#Johnny Simpson x Reader | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

b4mpyre-k1zz3s · 11 months

Text

Award (shit)Show

There’s many things that come with being the manager of the cast of MTV’s Jackass.

Johnny Knoxville X Gn!reader (if you squint)

3k Words

(Fluff)

Warnings: Suggestive content, crude language, drug use, alcohol, vomit, flirting, bar fights (it’s Jackass)

An: Wow!! This fic took a WHILE loool little different from what I usually do, but I hope you enjoy!

“Goddamn it!!” You yelled over the shitty in ear monitor, “Where they fuck are they?!”

You always hated when this happened, but nevertheless, it was routine. You open the door to the dressing room and- poof! Just like magic, the idiots disappeared! Though you really hoped that, one day, they might, actually. Storming into the empty room like a bat out of hell, you panickedly scanned over every dusty surface, every dirty mirror and sordid piece of upholstery like your life depended on it while some poor, defenseless MTV intern stuttered some excuse over the line. You cut them off, “Yes, I know the show is in an hour!! There’s nothing I can-“

In your haste, you had neglected to notice a certain, very important detail- namely the leader of the very men you were searching for passed out on the second hand, stained, dressing room couch, half dressed, and with a beer bottle in his hand. You sighed in relief and spoke back, “Nevermind.” You clicked off your monitor.

You leaned down, grabbing the broad, bare shoulders of the unconscious man and gently shaking them. Johnny stirred, his closed eyes fluttering open just slightly- just enough for him to catch your gaze. He grumbled, his voice rougher than usual, “Hey Y/N.” You could tell he wasn’t happy to see you, but you put on your best customer service tone.

“You have an award to present in 30 minutes, Johnny!” You lied through your faux grin, knowing it was the only way to get him up. He groaned like a teenager not wanting to be woken up for school, his head falling back and grip tightening around the bottle. “C'mon! We gotta get you ready, right? Let’s get you up.” You scooped your hands under his armpits, hoisting him up with some effort and walking him over to the mirror as he dragged his bare feet on the hardwood.

Johnny squinted at the bright lights of the makeup mirror. Now, you knew he wasn’t totally sober when you walked in, but that fact was undeniable when he looked down at you with half lidded hungover eyes, with pink bloodshot scleras and blown out pupils. He cracked a smile, swaying in your hands still as he slurred in a thick southern accent, “‘look like shit, don’I?”

Well, he did, but you weren’t about to say that, especially knowing how vain Johnny was. “Pfft! Nooo! Not at all!” He chuckled, leaning down a couple inches from your face, chuckling quietly, “God, you’re so sweet.” You would’ve sworn your heart stopped for a second before you got your bearings again. But as attractive as he seemed at the moment, you did have an objective. Moving behind him, you fixed his perpetually messy hair under the yellowing, half burnt out lights of the mirror while he blinked groggily. “Look at m’fuckin eyes…i do look like shit.” He whined, examining his own face. You grabbed his glasses from his pants pocket, him having seemingly forgotten they were in there, and the world was right again. You continued fixing him up as he rambled to you, “You know that Jessica girl?”

“Simpson?” You questioned, trying to keep him busy as you stepped away to grab his shirt from the ground. “Mmhm. God, she’s great.” You were a little concerned by this as she just so happened to be presenting at the same award show you were at- something about some movie she was in.

“Not as cute as you, though.” Johnny added, giggling. That was Knoxville- always flirty when intoxicated. He feebly stuck his arms up as you came back, like he was expecting you to pull his shirt over his head. The things you have to do for this fuckin job. “See, tonight Steve’s gonna do that bit when we present…the, un, the one where he says, ‘who’s got four thumbs and loves-“ You sighed, doing as directed, tugging it onto him. “You are going to be on international television, Johnny. You have got to be on your best behavior!”

“Sorry, sorry…” You walked him back to the couch, sitting him down gently while he got hesitant at your chiding, hands in his lap. He looked up at you through his glasses with those still heart melting eyes as you explained, “I’m gonna get someone in here, okay? And they’ll take you out when everyone’s ready, but I have to go now, okay?” He nodded, and you hoped that he was actually listening. “Good! I’ll see you soon, okay?”

Usually you’d ask him to repeat your instructions back to you as Johnny had a horrible habit of just not listening very well, but you really didn’t have the time. Just like that, you zipped out of the dressing room, filtering down the crowded, chaotic hallway, clicking on your monitor again, “Can we get someone at the dressing room with some ice water? Knoxville’s more spaced out than an astronaut in there and I can not have him passing out again!” And just as you said that, there goes the intern from before, zipping past you and into the open door.

As much as you hated the job, it had its perks. For one, you could always have someone do something for you, whatever you needed, such as that intern, now newly appointed babysitter. Of course, that wasn’t consistent, as at the moment, you were stuck with dreadedly searching for the second names on the billing- Steve-O and Pontius. They always did something, and it usually end ended up as some horrendous prank on you. You squeezed through the buzzing crowded hallway, and after you got no answers from your repeated questioning of your coworkers, you resorted to the next best thing. Knocking on doors and jiggling handles- you got very close to many very famous people who completely hated you for daring to interrupt them getting ready, slamming doors in your face while in all various stages of putting on makeup or doing hair.

As you rapidly searched, you didn’t notice when the door you were knocking on swung open, as if it wasn’t closed at all, and you weren’t sure if you were relieved or more perturbed at the sight.

There, on the floor of the completely trashed dressing room, were the two giddy, semi nude men you were looking for, clad only in their, as they called their, ‘cheetahs’, in a pile of pilfered women’s clothing, giggling at each other like school girls. Upon further inspection, you noticed that that wasn’t all that they were wearing.

“Y/N!! Dude, I’m so glad you’re here!” Steve turned to you, grinning with a bloody nose and a full face of makeup, a tube of bright red lipstick in hand. “See, Pontius and I had this great idea, and-“ You rubbed the space between your eyebrows, tilting your head down. “I don’t even care. I have more important things to d- Chris, are you wearing heels?”

Chris nodded. “Well,” he rationalized in that cute, kinda dumb way, “Steve-O couldn’t walk in them, so I had to!” Well you couldn’t really argue with that. Admitly, he was the only member of the cast that could walk in heels, or at the very least pull them off, but you weren’t sure how people would react to seeing Party Boy himself in an animal print speedo and shiny candy apple red pumps. It would surely cause an uproar, but hell, it’s 2001, maybe that would be a good thing.

You furrowed your eyebrows, sighing. “Whatever, just don’t get into any more shit while I’m gone?” Cue the laughter. Cutting the noise, you got a call on your cell phone and turned to leave. Not waiting for a response, you slammed the door behind you, flipping your phone open and recognizing the number, you took the call. “Ryan?” Your eyes opened a bit wider in hope- maybe your job would be getting easier tonight. The voice that giggled back,

“Y/Nnnnnnn~…” It was Bam, hopelessly drunk. Goddamn it! You leaned against the now closed door behind you. “When- when’s that- uh…that show again?” You could hear the crowded bar behind his voice as Bam talked, mouth too close to the speaker. You thought for a moment, eyes glancing up for a clock. “I think it’s at…”

Your eyes landed on the taped sheet of paper on the dressing room door and you nearly shit a brick. It read in comic sans,

Jessica Simpson

Fuuuuck. If you weren’t getting fired after this, you planned on buying a lottery ticket after this show. “Seven.” You replied matter of factly after finding a clock. Bam laughed, “No, that’s not right, cuz sevens in fifteen minutes…'dozen make ‘ny sense…”

Boom. Second heart attack of the night. Turning on your heel, you bolted for the exit, shouting for someone to go to the dressing room and watch those two while you were out. Bam just giggled on the other end of the line. “Where are you?”

“How should I know?” He drunkenly joked, “Some fucking Irish place, ‘iguess.” Wow, very helpful. You snapped the phone shut, looking around near the venue for the kind of establishment those two would frequent- nowhere good. You clicked on your monitor again to check if anything was going wrong and turned it on to your manager yelling at you, “Y/N!! Where are you?! They’re on in 15!”

“I know, I know! I’ll get back in 10! I found Chris and Steve in Jessica Simpson’s dressing room, so-“ You didn’t imagine how weird it would sound before it left your mouth. “You what?!?” “I don’t have time, just get someone in there and keep them in one place!” You clicked it off as you found what was probably the right place- a little hole in the wall-ly place called Mc’Hale’s. Parking, you threw the door open, charging into the dark, crowded establishment. Almost immediately, you found Bam and Ryan, the two having attracted a thick cheering crowd you squeezed past.

Now, you’d seen bar fights before, but nothing like this scene. Bam was swinging those limp little fists at the speed of light at the guy he had pinned up against the sticky bar while drunkenly yelling through gritted teeth, “Yeah? Yeah? How you fuckin like that? Huh?” You would’ve been concerned if the guy he picked a fight with hadn’t been at least 5 inches taller than him and seemed completely unaffected by his weak punches, laughing at him. What did concern you, however, was when Ryan, who had seemingly maintained his cool, grabbed a wooden stool from under the bar.

“Okay, okay! Time to go!” You decided to stop it before it got ugly, stepping past the barrier of people and picking up Bam by the back of his jacket like a kitten, pulling Ryan’s interest. You tugged him back, getting a good look at his face in the yellow swinging lights of the shady bar.

He stared at you with wide, glassy icy blue eyes like he was surprised that you would’ve stopped him, cheeks flushed with alcohol. A stream of blood trickled from his eyebrow, warm liquid dripping down his face and smeared on his cheek bone. Bringing your thumb to the cut, you roughly wiped the blood away, eliciting a wince from him. You scoffed, rolling your eyes as the crowd parted for you to drag him out. “Cmonnnnn…”

Like a petulant child, Bam’s legs went weak under him, pulling you down as he practically threw himself on the ground. Ryan, the significantly more sensible and coherent one, followed behind to help you, grabbing his shoulder and hoisting him up off of his feet. You threw the car door open, tossing him in the backseat while he complained, “Ryan fuckin started it!! Why’re you mad at me?!” You slamed the door as Ryan turned to you, seemingly uninebriated save for the smell of Jim Beam on his breath, “I have no idea what he’s talking about.”

Ryan sipped the beer he still had from the bar as you pulled into the theater, internally laughing to yourself in disbelief. You did it, you crazy son of a bitch. “Okay! Out, out!!” What a contrast to earlier tonight, not even caring about niceties as you hauled them out. Bam stumbled, whining the whole way, trading mumbled remarks with Ryan the whole way backstage. “God, why’da have to be such a bitch about stuff?” “ ‘M not a bitch…you’re a bitch…” Ryan chuckled, “Yeah, says the guy who pissed himself.”

“Great! Just great!” You ranted on your monitor, standing by the stage door keeping watch over Bam and Ryan, “We have two drunks- one who pissed himself, two guys in makeup- one in heels, and the star of the whole program so high he can't stand! Mtv is just going to love this!” Ryan leaned towards your microphone, chucking, “Oh, I'm sure it’s all just gonna go great.”

“Here comes wonderboy.�� Bam leaned forward, snickering at the sight- the tiny intern lugging the barefoot, comparatively huge Johnny along. “Hey, Knoxville! How’re you doin?” He licked his hips, blinking hard behind his glasses at the bright lights. “Awful.” The other two nodded, in a sort of unsober solidarity. All heads turned as you heard the announcer on the other end of the curtain over the speakers, “Ladies and gentlemen, do not try this at home! Welcome the stars of Jackass, Johnny Knoxville, Bam Margera, Ryan Dunn, Chris Pontius, and the handsome and talented Mr. Steve- O!”

You whisper-yelled over your monitor, “Where the fuck are the other two?! They’re- they’re supposed to be here! Now!” The person on the other end of the line couldn’t come up with an answer, stuttering something about the dressing room. You bolted in that direction, throwing one the door.

“Where the fuck did they get duct tape?!” You questioned, less concerned with the silver bound gentlemen on the floor and more concerned with how they got there. Idiots. You grabbed them under the arms and tugged them to their feet, not even nothing to get them out of the silver wrapped around their wrists and ankles. “Oh, Y/N! My hero!” Steve joked as they shuffled along to the others. Finally, everyone was together and you could start the parade of freaks, almost on schedule!

Now drenched in sweat, you slank to the back room with all the tv monitors, exhaustedly throwing your jacket on the stiff office chair and melting into it, your head falling backwards and switching the channel of your monitor so you would be speaking to cast, not crew. Crowd applause and the twangy tones of Corona echoed from the tinny desk speakers as the footage thousands of Americans would be watching played out first and foremost on the shitty little computer in front of you. “Wow, Steve O!!” The charming talk show guy who hosted the show started, “Can- can I ask about the dress?”

The dress? Your head snapped up, and there it was, fitting his gangly frame surprisingly well, a cobalt blue sequined mini dress that shimmered under the stage light so beautifully- it would’ve looked stunning on anyone except, well, Steve-O. Pontius giggled, “The dress? Or the heels?” Talk show boy glanced down, “Heels?! Oh- oh wow!” He chuckled unbelievingly. Steve licked his lips, leaning into the microphone, “Well, the thing is- it’s such a special night!” He tucked a non-existing lock of hair behind his ear while avoiding the question, “And- and I’m just so star struck right now.” Knoxville nodded, leaning in to speak as he wobbled against the lectern like an unstable vase, “Y’know, I just can’t believe I’m on stage with you man- what’s your name again?”

Slightly insulted in the way people who think highly of themselves get, he opened his mouth to speak to speak, but almost as if on cue, Bam leaned forward and, with much bravado, heaved over the lectern, dripping down the side of the stage and delicately spraying the tuxedoed crowd in the very first row with bright green Midori Sour flavored vomit.

And the ‘ew’s. Chaos, choreographed like a balet- it always seemed to play out like this. Ryan, who had up to this point mostly gone under the radar and was seemingly the only one keeping this award train rolling, swiped the now warm, neon green card from the stand, “So, who’s this award going to anyway…?” Abandoning all plans, the host tore it from his hands, quickly ripping it open.

“Jessica Simpson!!” He feigned excitement as your stomach dropped. This could either go well or probably, most likely, very bad. And she walked onstage all pretty, waving to the audience and smiling like a Barbie doll while avoiding the aforementioned green puddle. She walked up to the cheap, unstable lectern, giving the garden variety acceptance routine. So lucky to win actress of the year, I’d like to say blah blah blah. Applause! And as the studio cameras panned, she leaned back from the microphone to say something. However, she didn’t move enough. Still caught on the feed, she turned to Pontius with sarcasm, “I really like your heels.”

“I like your heels too!” All insult was lost on Chris, laughing at his own dumb joke. Jessica scoffed, crossing her arms and walking offstage, completely disregarding Steve’s own attempt to get at her. The crowd roared with laughter, as did you. More likely than not, the whole thing would be cut out for home broadcasting, but god, it was good. It always was.

#jackass #bam margera #johnny knoxville #steve o #chris pontius #ryan dunn #jackass fanfic #jackass fanfiction #johnny knoxville x reader #fluff #jackass x reader #I’m so sorry Jessica Simpson

100 notes · View notes

littleoddwriter · 2 years

Note

Johnny Tightlips x male reader nsfw headcanons perhaps??

Johnny Tightlips x Male!Reader | N/SFW Headcanons (18+)

Hey there! Thanks for the request, I hope you like these. :')

notes; Male!Reader; Kissing/Making Out; Dry Humping; Blowjobs; Anal Fingering and Sex.

Johnny is someone who rather shows that he loves someone, instead of saying it out loud. Actions speak louder than words to him. So, deep, lingering kisses are a must. So are touches, innocent and not.

He loves making out with you, such as leaving marks on your neck just so everyone knows that you're his. He's possessive like that, but not overly so.

Often, making out will lead to dry humping on the couch, or wherever you're doing that. He pulls you close, presses your growing erections together through your pants and grinds his hips against yours. Sometimes when you're at home anyway, nothing but this will happen and you both come in your pants, or it leads to actual sex in the bedroom, of course.

Johnny loves sucking you off. So before you fuck, he pulls down your pants, gets on his knees and takes you into his mouth as far as it'll go.

After that it's usually a bit of a 'fight' to decide who's on top because you both like it either way, so it always depends on the mood and many other factors. Sometimes you both just can't decide and so only blowjobs, and other things, it is.

When he's on top, he likes to take it a bit slower, but with hard, powerful thrusts that make the bed shake anyway. He also takes his time to prepare you, making out with you as he's fingering you open, and going up to four fingers just to make sure.

In terms of preparation, you both are pretty much the same. But when you're the one fucking him, the way you do it wholly depends on your mood. Sometimes you like to fuck him into the mattress and other times you're genuinely just making sweet love to him. Either way, he's living for it.

#i swear everyone loves the Springfield Mafia and i appreciate that jhdskhfkshlfks #nsft headcanons #male reader #johnny tightlips #johnny tightlips x reader #springfield mafia #the simpsons #idk why i went off like this but i'm glad it's not just four bullet points for once

26 notes · View notes

max-legmans-keys · 29 days

Text

Master List

Who I write for + fc

I do take requests for fics

-----------------------------------------------

Luca Angelo (Oc)

-----------------------------------------------

Max "Legs" Legman

-----------------------------------------------

Vittorio DiMaggio Jr(Oc)

-----------------------------------------------

Louie Walters

-----------------------------------------------

Andrea Angelo(Oc)

-----------------------------------------------

Johnny Tightlips

(currently unsure on FC)

-----------------------------------------------

DJ Frye (oc)

-----------------------------------------------

Daniel Frye Sr(oc)

-----------------------------------------------

#luca angelo #max legman #legs #the simpsons oc #mafia simpsons #louie walters #johnny tightlips #vittorio dimaggio jr #x reader #andrea angelo #the simpsons #Simpsons #master list #dj frye #daniel frye sr

1 note · View note

mysadcorner · 1 year

Text

Masterlist Navigation - Requests Open

- Credit to the gifs owner - Please be specific about characters wanted in requests -

REQUEST RULES!!!

Scream Masterlist

Metallica Masterlist

DC Masterlist

Stranger Things Masterlist

Heathers Masterlist

The Punisher Masterlist

Voltron Masterlist

Bullet Train Masterlist

How To Train Your Dragon Masterlist

Marauders Masterlist

Actors Masterlist

Star Wars Masterlist

The Walking Dead Masterlist

Other:

Sam Monroe Masterlist

Stiles Stilinski Masterlist

Levi Ackerman Masterlist

Ghost Riley Masterlist

Shaggy Masterlist

Percy Jackson Masterlist

Jesse Pinkman Masterlist

Elvis Presley Masterlist

Finnick Odair Masterlist

Alucard Masterlist

Peter Pan Masterlist

Hawk Masterlist

Ace Merrill Masterlist

Eric Draven Masterlist

Jordan Knight Masterlist

Wilbur Soot Masterlist

Arthur Morgan Masterlist

J. Daniel Atlas Masterlist

Jay Kelso Masterlist

Steve Randle Masterlist

Groundskeeper Willie Masterlist

Bart Simpson Dating Headcanons

Bender Masterlist

Max Rockatansky Masterlist

Druig Masterlist

Kit Walker Masterlist

Tate Langdon Masterlist

Tony Stark Masterlist

(Tom Holland) Peter Parker Masterlist

Wolverine Masterlist

Spiderverse Masterlist

Arthur Shelby Masterlist

Thomas Shelby Masterlist

Shelby Brothers Masterlist

Sebastian Michaelis Masterlist

Vincent Phantomhive Masterlist

Daniel Larusso Masterlist

Johnny Lawrence Masterlist

Hal Jordan Dating Headcanons

Harry Hart x Opposite!Reader Headcanons

278 notes · View notes

oncasette · 2 years

Text

𝐆𝐔𝐈𝐃𝐄…

✷ here’s a list of characters i currently write for + some common themes / tropes i tend to enjoy !

✷ favs, requests open, requests closed, *sfw only

in terms of requests! my ask box is always open but i reserve to write or not write anything that comes in. i keep everything in the bin in case one day it sparks something!

✷ links lead to fan castings!

BALDUR’S GATE III. astarion ancunin, gale dekarios, karlach, shadowheart

DC. barry allen, rick flag, dick grayson, harley quinn, jaime reyes, tdk!bruce wayne

EIGHTIES. charlie dalton*, jason dean, kevin dolenz, johnny lawrence, blane mcdonough, ronald miller*

HARRY POTTER. regulus black, sirius black, james potter, remus lupin, theseus scamander

TED LASSO. roy kent, ted lasso, jamie tartt

MARVEL. druig, eddie brock, frank castle, scott lang, matt murdock, mcu!peter parker, tasm!peter parker, peter quill, helmut zemo

MILES TELLER. willard hewitt, andrew neiman

OBX. rafe cameron, jj maybank, topper thornton

PEDRO PASCAL. jack daniels, frankie morales, javier peña, marcus pike

SCREAM. ethan landry, stu macher, charlie walker

STRANGER THINGS. steve harrington, jim hopper, eddie munson

TOP GUN. bradley bradshaw, nick bradshaw, tom kazansky, jake seresin, beau simpson

MISC. art donaldson, carlisle cullen, walt finnegan, logan huntzberger, benny miller, eric northman, kai parker, harvey specter, stiles stilinski, phil wenneck, charlie young, patrick zweig

TROPES I’M PARTIAL TO... mutual pining, fake dating, lovers to enemies to lovers, (childhood) best friends to lovers, summer love, vampire!au, domesticity, age gap, guy falls first, hurt/comfort, second chance romance, roommates to lovers, old money!au, dad’s best friend, best friend’s brother

TROPES I WON’T WRITE… non-con, rpf, pedophilia, age play/regression, pet play, anal play, water sports, scat, sister!reader (ex. eddie munson x henderson!reader)

#nav

238 notes · View notes

johnny-simpson · 4 years

Text

Anyone Else but Me (Johnny Simpson x reader fic)

Johnny Simpson was ethereal, an angel on earth. He had a habit of just sitting and letting all the gals flock to him, and that was even before the Donny Nova Band, before he shipped off the fight for Uncle Sam and the red, white, and blue. Before his jeep flipped three times over. Before he could barely remember his name. Before you could even remember what it was like to have your heart broken. Before your world came out from under you.

You had known Johnny Simpson since middle school, you were paired up in english class by Ms. Francis to discuss the living situation of Laura Ingalls Wilder and her family, and like that, you two had become inseparable. You knew everything there was to know about him, and he knew all the bits and pieces that made up you. The whole school, including the faculty, and even both sets of parents thought you two would get hitched. And, they were right, mostly.

A little while, in the odd space between the end of high school and the start of college, Johnny had worked up the nerve to finally make a pass at you. Which you reciprocated. You started dating soon after, the happiest year of your life. It was filled with moving into an apartment, going to swing clubs, dancing in your kitchen to Glenn Miller records, where now you can’t bear to live, put on the record, or listen to “Don’t Sit Under The Apple Tree.” You can’t bear to listen to any of those, knowing you can’t have your lover

When you got a telegram saying that Johnny had a semblance of recollection of his crash but nothing else, you thought your heart was going into cardiac arrest. You knew the basics and that was enough for you to cry whenever you think of it. The thought of Johnny being scared as his jeep is flipping uncontrollably makes you want to scream. After you got the telegram, you had decided to get out of his life, not making contact with him. All you knew was that when he got home, he didn’t know his own family, his home, or his, well you and his’ apartment.When you got word that he was coming home, you quickly packed your belongings, adamant that he didn’t need you in his life.

You now live by yourself in a small house in the same area as your old apartment. The amount of times you’ve debated going to the apartment, using your key to get in, and telling Johnny the whole story. Oh, how swell would it be to be held by Johnny once again or dancing to records in the living room, to be able to fall asleep with his arms around you, to be able to laugh about nothing.

Instead, you live in a one bedroom house, alone. You no longer fall asleep to someone else’s breathing, but to the wind blowing outside the window. You now do mundane chores around the house in silence, fearing the music on the radio could render you inconsolable.

Ever since you heard through the grapevine that Johnny was a drummer in a swing band, you tried to make it to every gig. Asking around if you didn't know where they were playing, desperately most of the time, hoping to see glimpses of your old lover. That’s how you became acquainted with Jo and Oliver, owners of two separate clubs. They knew of your past love with Johnny and of your heartbreak, showing their sympathy

You never really did anything at the clubs. Never really dancing with anyone, mostly just sitting at a table sipping daiquiris. Sometimes accepting the drinks of men passing by looking for a shot with you. It never went any farther than small talk. You wouldn't let it. No one could ever replace Johnny.

“Thank you,” Donny said one night after finishing “You Deserve It,” a winning song, “We are the Donny Nova Band.”

The band got off stage, packing up their instruments, and as the club started to file out through the doors, you looked down at your drink, your hand gently rocking your glass to swirl the contents. You were so consumed in your drink you didn't hear someone walk up to you.

“I have seen you at every gig but never dancing or sitting with anyone, why's that,” a voice asked that made you jump, almost spilling your almost-empty drink. You looked up to see the saxophone player, Jimmy, you think his name is, staring at you, waiting for a response

You shrugged, trying to come off as nonchalant. “Must be a coincidence, I guess.”

He let out a small but sort of genuine chuckle. “That’s what I thought the first three times, but you are always at every gig of ours without fail. Now, that leads into the other question which you've not answered. Why aren't you with a group or someone else. “ he asked, sitting down in the chair across from yours.

You looked away from his intense stare and found your gaze fixated on Johnny. Johnny looked like he was having a casual conversation with Donny and twirling his drumstick. Jimmy caught your gaze and let out a sigh.

“If you come to every gig just to catch the attention of Donny, I hate to be the bearer of bad news, but you're barking up the wrong tree. He has his eyes on someone else, I'm afraid,’ he said somewhat softly.

You couldn't help but let out a laugh. “No, no, no. I'm not worried about that. It’s Johnny i come to see every gig,” you said,

“Ah, so you're a fan of Johnny’s,” he said with a sly smile. “I'm more than that,” you trailed off and before you knew it you were sharing your history with Johnny to his bandmate. “He doesn't remember me, but I know that if I come to every gig, I get to be with him, even if for only a bit.”

Jimmy gave you a look of apology mixed with understanding. “I'm not trying to sugarcoat or bullshit my way through trying to comfort you or say that it must be hard. Because, I know it is. I know what it’s like to lose your love. But you have another chance to win Johnny back, it's not all lost.”

And for the second time that night, a voice next to you spoke, but it was different, because this time you knew the voice. You stilled, your body frozen in a shock of some sort. It had been almost two years since he had even been physically next to you. Your heart was racing, you were sure you could feel your hands shaking and becoming clammy. Is this actually happening?

“Did you say my name, Jim,’ asked the former love of your life. His hat was perfectly on his head and once again, he's fiddling with his drumstick. Jimmy nodded and gestured to you.

“My friend,” he paused realizing, he never asked for your name, and you realized that as well so you spoke up.

“(y/n). (y/n) (l/n),” you said, a small part of you hoping that the reiteration of your name will jolt his mind back to remembering you. It didn't, to your utmost disappointment, but you didn’t let it show. It was a silly thing to wish for, honestly.

“Yes, my friend, (Y/n), over here was admiring your drumming ability,” Jimmy said. Johnny’s face lit up at the compliment and turned to look at you. You shifted your body to face him as well, and once you made eye contact, you felt at peace, butterflies, and grief all at once. It was the most overwhelmed you have felt, save for when you had gotten word the latter had his jeep flipped three times.

“Well, thank you,” his eyes shone with excitement and his cheeks were a slight pink, whether it was from the adrenaline of playing live or from your compliment was anyone’s guess. He held out his hand, which you took, and he brought your hand up to his lips and kissed it softly. In spite of yourself, you smiled and blushed profusely. Your fingers were buzzing after the contact and couldn't bring yourself to bring your hand back. “It’s nice to meet you, Miss (Y/n,)” he said gently, “Thank you for coming.”

You nodded at his proclaimed gratitude. looked him in the eyes, and the overwhelming feeling of love and loss was back for the second time that night. You never wanted to leave the feeling if it meant you could stare at him forever. You could feel yourself falling in love all over again and before you could make any mistakes or profess your love, Jimmy cleared his throat, snapping you out of the trance.

“I’m heading out, (y/n), want me to take you home,” he asked, knowing well enough that he had to get you out of the club immediately before you broke down with grief of what used to be. You nodded and pulled your hand out of Johnny’s calloused hand, immediately missing the comfort and warmth of your lost lover’s hand.

“It was nice meeting you, Johnny,” you brought yourself to speak, struggling to get the words out. He tipped his hat and mentioned that he couldn’t wait to see you again with a wide grin that was brighter than the lights on a movie set.

Jimmy took your arm in his own, linking them in a hurry. “Alright, I will see you all on Tuesday,” he spoke loudly, talking to the band and Julia. You gave them all a slight wave and with that, you and Jimmy headed out of the building, leaving Johnny behind with the other members.

---------------

and thats a wrap for chapter one!!!

#bandstand fanfiction #bandstand #broadway fanfiction #broadway fic #fic #Broadway #johnny simpson #johnny simpson x reader #bandstand fic

34 notes · View notes

chipmunk-anon · 5 years

Text

You opened your door to find Johnny balancing a large bouquet of daisies, a thermos of what was either soup or tea, and a stack of several tissue boxes. “Heard you were sick so I brought provisions.”

You let out as much of a chuckle as your stuffed up nose would allow. “Johnny, you didn’t need to do all this.” You managed the words hoarsely before being hit with several sneezes. “I’m feeling much better, really.”

“Even I can tell that’s not true. You sound awful, (Y/N) .

You nodded your head in defeat and welcomed him inside. “Sorry.” You plopped down into a large armchair littered with tissues. “I just hate being sick.

“Well that’s why I came. I know what it’s like to be stuck in bed with a head that feels like it’s swimming and at the same time like it’s all stuffed up and about to explode

You sniffled and wiped your nose with your sleeve. “S’pose you’re right; most people get the flu real bad at least couple times during-” And then you realized that wasn’t what Johnny had been talking about. “Oh,” you said as your hands came to rest in your lap. “Johnny, I… I’m sorry. I know I say that a lot, but you gotta know I mean it every time.

“Why are you sorry? You’re not the one who made yourself sick. ‘Sides, I’m happy to come check on my girl.”

You blushed when he said this. The drummer immediately tried to pull back the little piece of sentiment. “Oh, no no, I didn’t mean it like that. I just meant you’re my friend and you are a girl… you’re my girlfriend- No! That’s wrong. That is definitely not what I was trying to say” Johnny brought his palm to his forehead. God, I am such an idiot. This always happened. He always seemed to forget something or say the wrong thing and screw things up. “I should go.”

“No, don’t!” you near shouted. “I mean, stay with me?” You smile hesitantly. “If you don’t mind being around all my germs, that is.”

“Of course I will. (Y/N), I’d stay with you if you had the plague, doesn't matter how contagious you were. I’d stay with you if you were at death’s door. I’d- I’d stay with you if I was the last healthy man on Earth!”

Your smile widened as he came to sit beside you on the arm of your chair. There wasn't anyone in the world half so wonderful as Johnny.

#bandstand #bandstand x reader #johnny simpson x reader #bandstand musical #bandstand the musical #bandstand imagine #bandstand imagines

33 notes · View notes

woildismyerster · 6 years

Note

Hey there! So your Johnny Simpson fic was amazing and perfect and I was wondering if you’d be willing to do just one more? Maybe this one a little angsty but with a happy ending? Just so when I read the fics over and over again I can switch between angst and fluff? Of course you absolutely 100% don’t have to. Just if you want to and have an idea. Love you. Love your writing. You’re an angel.

You know, I’m not sure that I’m capable of writing angst. I sure tried, though.

“You’re joking,” you said. Your fingers shook a little, wrinkling the form Johnny had given you. “This isn’t real.”

“It’s real,” he said. He grinned at you, but there was an edge of dread under it. That seemed about right - he was a hero, off to war, and that was as bittersweet a thing as there could possibly be. “I’m shipping out next week.”

“No,” you said. “You aren’t.”

He was not leaving, because it wasn’t possible for there to be a town without him. How could you walk into the diner if he wasn’t there? Were you supposed to look out at crowds of people, knowing that he wouldn’t be in them? Who would mow your father’s lawn? Who would ask you to proofread his job applications, even though you always griped about it? Who would take you out for drives on the weekends, ignoring the girls he actually dated, so you wouldn’t be lonely watching your friends with their beaus?

“I won’t have it,” you said.

“I’ve already enlisted,” he said. Johnny had taken you out for a drive, but hadn’t talked about what the purpose was until he had parked in your driveway again. Maybe he was too scared to tell you. Maybe he had worried that there would be nothing to talk about in the wake of the news. “Y/N, I want to make the most of this last week; please don’t be mad.”

“Why on earth would I be mad?” The question was thick with disdain. You knew that it was misplaced; you were angry at the situation, not the man. “Because my best friend joined the military without talking to me? Because he’s probably going to die, and I won’t find out for weeks? Maybe I’ll never find out, and I’ll always wonder what happened out there. Psh, no, I’m not mad.”

“People are dying,” he said. He grabbed your hand, and even in your anger, you couldn’t bring yourself to pull away from him. “If I can help, shouldn’t I?”

“This ruins all of your plans,” you said. A tear slipped out and you wiped it away before he could. You knew that he would try, and that was too much of a blow.

“My plans will still be there when I come home.”

“If you come home.”

“And you’ll still be here when I get back,” he said. “I will come back, and it’ll be you and me, like always.”

“Maybe not,” you lied. “Maybe I’ll marry somebody else and move to California, or New York. Somewhere far away.” Fat chance. You had decided that you wanted to marry Johnny years ago, before marriage was a passing thought in most boys.

“That’s actually what I wanted to talk to you about,” he said, and the first note of nervousness rang in his voice. “Can you wait?”

“Wait to get married until you get home?” You wiped at your face again and plastered on a small, teasing smile. “Why, so you can be my maid of honor?”

“So I can be the groom,” he sighed.

Your head whipped to the side, and your hand jerked out of his. “What?”

“Y/N - you and I were always heading here, right? It’s always been us, and I think I always knew it would be us in the end.”

“You’ve never acted like it,” you said. The words were matter-of-fact, not bitter. That didn’t lessen the sheepish look he gave you.

“We had time. I wasn’t worried.”

“But now you are?”

“No,” he said immediately. “I’m not worried. I’ll come back to you. I just want to be sure that, when I do, you know what I’m hoping for.”

You picked up his hand from where it had settled on your thigh. “Johnny -”

“We’ll write while I’m away, and if nothing changes, I’ll want to marry you,” he rushed. “Please.”

“We’ll write,” you said. He looked at you, uncertainty evident, and you smiled. “We’ll write, and we can talk about the rest later.”

“I’m not sure if I should be disappointed or not,” he teased.

“Not. Definitely not.” You squeezed his hand, and he squeezed you back. “Come home, and we’ll figure it out. I don’t want to tell my parents about an engagement without the fiance there.”

He laughed, and it sealed the agreement more than a contract ever could.

“Were we friends?”

His question upon coming home was worse than any of his other uncertainties - worse than not remembering your name, his hesitancy to be alone in a room with you, the fact that he had to ask you how you took your coffee.

“Still are,” you said. You took a stiff sip of coffee. “It’s always been the two of us.”

“They said that I have a lot of friends,” he said.

“Do you not remember any of them?”

“Some,” he mumbled. “Not their faces, but moments with them. It comes and goes.”

You wanted to ask what he remembered. An unofficial proposal? Sneaking out to meet in the park? Eating bologna sandwiches at drive in movies? You wanted to ask him what he knew about you, if anything, but that didn’t seem fair. That left only one thing.

“Can I help?”

“No,” he immediately said. “No, the doctor said that this is how I am now. After the crash, this is miraculous enough.”

You hummed, dissatisfied.

“Did you hear about the crash? It’s a wild story - I was riding in the car -” Johnny smiled while he spoke, and though it was beautiful, it was not the smile he reserved for you.

“You live on my block,” Johnny said thoughtfully.

You white-knuckled the shopping basket, trying not to look like you wanted to break something, scream something, change everything. “I do.”

He gave a pleased smile. “Good. I’m not so good at remembering faces, you know. Not after the car flipped three times.”

You reached out a hand for him to shake. “I’m Y/N.”

His hand, holding yours like it was something fragile, faltered in its shake. “Y/N.”

“Yes.”

“I know you,” he said. His brow was furrowed. In another time, you would have smoothed the lines with your thumb. He would have smiled at you then, but now the brow would only have dipped deeper. “I’m sure of it.”

“I’m your neighbor,” you offered.

“More than that. I remember you.”

“We were friends.” Then, after a blinding pulse of panic, “are. Are friends.”

He gave a nod, but you saw him running his troubled fingers along the sleeve of his suit jacket. “That’s not what I’m thinking of, but I don’t know what it is.”

You grinned, light and soft. “We were madly in love. You wanted to marry me.” He stiffened, but relaxed when you shot a late wink.

“That seems closer,” he said distantly. He shook off the uncertainty and smiled back. “Can I walk with you? Just until you’re ready to go home.”

You shuffled to the side. “Be my guest.”

Matthew Morgan asked you out in high school. You said no, and Johnny laughed about it for days.

Matt asked you out during the first winter break of college. You said no, and Johnny joked that at least you would always have a back up. You had been furious at him for saying so, but that didn’t stop him from bringing it up periodically.

Matt asked you out during the war. You said no, that you were waiting for your man to come home. You wrote Johnny about it, and he said that you would never have to worry about it again. He said that before you knew it, you would be planning a wedding.

Matt asked you out after the war. Johnny’s brow furrowed every time he saw you, like he thought that he almost knew you. You said yes to Matt, and there was nobody to tell you that this was not how your life was supposed to turn out.

“Who’s the guy that keeps coming to your house?” Johnny walked with you through the store again, carrying a basket of his own.

“My boyfriend,” you said. The word sat funny in your mouth. It hadn’t when you told your parents, and it hadn’t when you talked to the friends you usually ran with. It was just Johnny, who smiled more every day and seemed to feel more like himself every time you saw him.

“I didn’t know you were seeing somebody!” He grinned. “What’s his name?”

“Matt. We went to school with him.”

“Did we like him?”

“Yeah.” You grabbed an apple and looked it over, scanning for bruises. “Not as much as he liked us, but yes.”

“That’s great. Really.” He was all warmth, all slow charm and pleasant cheer. “Can I meet him? Again?”

“Absolutely,” you said. This had to be a new chapter of life. This had to be a new start, where it wasn’t you and Johnny against the world. This time, you would have boyfriends. You wouldn’t pine. “You should come over sometime.”

“I think a lot of people were worried you’d be alone forever.” Then, with a light elbow in the side, “I never worried. You’re too good not to be snatched up.”

Sometimes you thought about telling him everything - that he had snatched you up, that everybody worried you’d never move on. You decided not to; it wouldn’t help anything at all.

“And the car flipped -”

“Three times,” Matt finished. His smile was gentle, but annoyed nonetheless. “I know, John. You’ve told that story before.”

The two men sat at your kitchen table, sipping at coffee. You cringed at Matt’s words. Yes, Johnny retold stories. That had never bothered you; he was a good storyteller, and he was an avid listener when you wanted to talk. You had been nervous to reintroduce the boys, but now you were embarrassed at Matt’s behavior. It wasn’t as though Johnny could help it.

“Have I? Sorry, bud.” Johnny’s eyes were apologetic, but they didn’t go pink the way they sometimes did when you had to remind him of something.

When you escorted him out, you scowled at Matt. “That was rude.”

“He won’t get better if nobody pushes him, doll.” Matt shrugged on a coat and smiled at you, eyes crinkling at the corners. “I’m trying to help him.”

“He isn’t sick. This isn’t something that we know will get better.”

“In that case, it isn’t like he’ll remember this next time we see him, right?” He leaned in to kiss your cheek, but you ducked away.

“He might. He remembers me,” you said.

“Not the way things were,” Matt said. It was the only time he was remotely cool with you - when you brought up your life with Johnny before. “He only knows the bones of who you are now.”

When he tried to kiss you again, you let him. You let him, and went back to speak with Johnny. Johnny joked more with just you, and you suspected that he may have been playing dumb.

“So,” you asked casually, “what did you think of Matt?”

“He was alright,” was the non-committal reply. “I think you’re settling.”

“How’s that?”

Johnny shrugged, and that was all.

Johnny seldom came to your house. Your parents didn’t know how to deal with him after everything, so it was better to spend time elsewhere. There was also the added need to keep Matt from seeing him come over - the two of you did nothing inappropriate, but you were sure he would make a scene if he thought something was going on. When the doorbell rang and he was the person visible through the window, you were sure that something was wrong.

“Johnny, hey! What’s going on?”

“We should go on a walk,” he said, and a sliver of ice settled in your heart.

It didn’t seem like he had a destination in mind when he led you through neighborhoods and trails. That made you feel even worse - this was a Walk. Something was happening.

“I asked you if we were friends,” he finally said.

A part of you wanted to make a joke. Which time?

“And I told you that we were,” you said instead.

“But that wasn’t it,” he said. He looked at you, and the ice spread when you saw the look on his face. “I was rereading your letters. They never made much sense to me, since I had half of a conversation that I didn’t remember.”

“Okay.”

“But there was one letter - you said that we would be talking to your father when I got home. I remembered something when I reread it.”

You knew that letter. You had been speaking lightly at the end, not wanting to get too sappy while you told him that you would have him when he got back. The two of you had always known it, on some level or another, but it was the only time you said it baldly. You would talk to your father - you would marry him someday.

“I’m sorry,” you said.

“You should have told me,” he said, and the anger in his voice was unfamiliar to you. This wasn’t irritation when you insulted a girl he dated, or offense when you took a joke too far. This was betrayal. “You should have told me that we loved each other.”

“You didn’t know me,” you said. It was the only response you could think of - nobody else had really known. It was just the two of you, making a promise that you could no longer expect him to keep. “I didn’t want to hold you to something -”

“So it was better to lie? To let me believe lies about my life?”

“Yes! Wasn’t that easier? Would you rather have tried loving somebody who you barely knew anymore?” Your eyes were filling with tears, but you had to dig your nails into your palm to keep your voice steady. The tears spilled over. “You weren’t the same. I would not expect you to keep a promise that a different man made.”

He reared back, surprised. “I’m still Johnny.”

“Yes. But not exactly the same. I won’t expect you to love a person you don’t know.”

“I don’t know that you,” he snapped back. “But of course I love the one I have now.”

You flinched. “What?”

“I love you. I know that you don’t - I would never ask you to -” He trailed off, helpless, and reached over to wipe away one of your tears.

“Stop saying that,” you said. His hand froze, inches from your face. “You think you love me, because you think you’re supposed to. You don’t have to marry me now, Johnny. I’m seeing somebody else. All bets are off.”

He said nothing, so you walked home alone.

Johnny called you a few days later. “I’m sorry.”

“Okay,” you said. “For what, exactly?”

“The timing,” he sighed. You could picture him leaning against the wall by his phone, trying to rub weariness from his eyes. “You’re right - we’ve both changed. I wish you had told me, but nothing would have changed. I’m sorry for getting angry.”

“I’m sorry for hiding things,” you offered. You had been coiled like a spring for days, but you could feel the unwinding begin. “You were trying to find yourself, and I made that harder. I shouldn’t have.”

“So we’re good,” he announced. “Back to normal.”

“Alright.” You grinned. “You and me, good as new.”

“So we’ll keep going shopping together, right? One of the shop girls has been making eyes, but her breath smells like something died in there, and she never makes a move when you’re there.”

You agreed to meet with him later and hung up, feeling inexplicably relieved and unhappy. It wasn’t until later, when he was shaking a box of rice like a tambourine, that you realized that he had never said he didn’t love you. Whether that was the good feeling or the bad, you weren’t sure.

You let yourself into Johnny’s house with the key he kept under a loose brick. He had always kept it there, and you had always let yourself inside when you thought he needed you. That hadn’t happened since he came home, but you hadn’t seen him in a few days. It seemed necessary.

“Johnny? Is everything alright?” You walked through the kitchen, the living room, the hallway. You knocked on his bedroom door, but didn’t feel right going in without his permission. “Johnny?”

There was a creak by the basement door.

You crept closer, grabbing a glass that sat on a table. It was probably Johnny.

It might not be Johnny.

You nudged the door open with your foot, jumping back when Johnny lunged through the doorway. He held a drumstick like he had been prepared to stab you with it. When you thought about it, he probably had been.

“Johnny! Christ, it’s me!”

His eyes were wild while he looked at you, but he didn’t attack.

“Johnny? It’s Y/N.”

He blinked, and a little sense came back. “Y/N. What are you doing here?”

“I haven’t seen you for a few days. I thought I should check in.” After a quick one over - wrinkled pants, messy wife beater, purples smears of shadow under his eyes - “I think it was a good call.”

He looked down at himself and shrugged. When he looked back up to you, the weary lines under his eyes were deeper, but his eyes stayed bright. “There’s no need. I’ve been busy practicing the songs Donny wrote for the contest.”

“Have you been sleeping?”

“Sleep is for the dead,” he said cheerfully.

“You’ll be among them soon,” you shot back, “if you don’t eat and drink.”

He sighed, but it was fond. “I know, Mom.”

“I’m going to cook something,” you said with finality. “Go to your room.”

“Mom -”

“Young man,” you warned.” He laughed, and the smile was just right.

Johnny was already asleep when you brought a plate back to his room. You set the food on the bedside table for him to have when he woke up and turned to go, but paused to look at the room. In many ways, it was the same as it always had been. Pictures and awards everywhere; what was once a collage of memories was now a shrine to who he had been.

There was a small, grubby pile of letters on his desk. The edges were curled and dirt smudged the once clean paper, but the ink flowed as smoothly as it had on the day you wrote the contact information. You scanned the pile, and most of the letters were from you. Four years worth of letters, from a lover to a love long since lost.

You shouldn’t be looking at these things. They were none of your business.

The more you looked at the room, the more of yourself you found in it.

A picture of the two of you at your high school graduation.

A scarf that you gave him for Christmas years prior was draped across a chair.

By his bed, there was a pile of scrap paper and napkins. You told yourself that cleaning up after him would explain the snooping away. Of course you saw his room - you had been cleaning it. You grabbed the pile, but froze when you glanced down at them.

“Y/N is your neighbor across the street. Your friend. Can help you remember.”

“Y/N likes going on drives.”

“Invite Y/N to the next concert.”

Every scrap had facts about you in Johnny’s rough, spiky scrawl. He was trying to find you again; maybe this was a buildup of everything since he came home. It wasn’t enough, but it was close.

“That show,” you told Johnny, “was amazing. The greatest thing I’ve ever seen, really.” You and Matt had gone to watch the Donny Nova Band perform; it was one of the last shows before they’d have enough money to make the trip to NYC. Your cheeks were flushed from dancing, and a few strands of hair were plastered to the back of your neck. It had been incredible.

“Good enough for us to win in New York?” Johnny reached over to fix your hair. He could do it quickly, but he took his time.

“You could win any contest,” you promised. You glanced back toward the men’s room, checking to see if Matt was back yet. “Think you’ll stay in the city?”

“Dunno.” He looked surprised, like it hadn’t occurred to him. “Why would I?”

“You’d have more opportunities. A fresh start. Screaming fans.”

Johnny shrugged, lips quirking while he listened to some of his bandmates joyfully playing snippets of music for each other. “I like it here.”

He twirled you quickly, calloused fingers gentle in yours.

Matt materialized next to you, grinning. “Haven’t you danced enough tonight? I’m done in.”

“Glad you enjoyed yourself,” Johnny said. He smiled, but it had dimmed a little.

“You guys were great.” Matt turned to you. “Ready to go?”

“Sure. Go get my coat?”

When he left, you threw your arms around Johnny’s shoulders. His hand splayed across your ribcage, fitting into the same places they had for years. It had been ages since you had hugged him, but it was as though nothing had changed. “Good luck,” you whispered.

“I’ll be back,” he murmured back. “Didn’t I promise that? I’ll come back to you.”

And when I do, the past whispered, you know what I’m hoping for.

You held him until your boyfriend came back. When you got home, you broke up with Matt. You couldn’t explain it to your parents, and you could hardly explain it to yourself. Johnny was coming back to you, and you had to be ready for him, right?

“This place is incredible,” he told you over the phone. “The beds are huge.”

You laughed. “The beds? Really? You’re in the greatest city in the world, and all you have to talk about is the bed?”

“It’s hard to describe,” he admitted. He tried to paint it for you - bright lights, cars everywhere, crowds of people where you couldn’t blend in but couldn’t stand out. “You’ll have to come here. Maybe Matt can bring you someday,” he finished.

“I actually broke up with him.”

“What? When?”

“The night of your concert.” You absently messed with the phone cord, wrapping it around your finger until it went purple. “I realized that he wasn’t right for me. I was settling, you know.”

“Yeah,” he breathed. “Yeah, he wasn’t good enough. Not even close.” Then, clearing his throat, “we can talk more about that when I get home. We can go for a drive, maybe. I’ll be able to afford any car I want, you know.”

“Yeah,” you grinned. “Yeah, I’m not settling anymore. I expect the best car.”

“Only the best for you.”

Johnny had parked in the driveway, and you suddenly felt five years younger.

“I feel like a queen,” you said, looking around the car he had been driving since he was seventeen.

“I may have spoken too soon,” he admitted.

“You? Have faulty timing? Impossible. That would be as strange as, say, forgetting you had a secret fiance,” you teased.

“That’s a spectacular transition,” he said. He grinned. “I couldn’t have planned it better myself. Y/N, about the secret engagement.”

“Yes?”

“I think we should give that another shot.”

“It went really well last time,” you commented.

“Last time, I was leaving for something dangerous. This time, it’s as safe as life,” he said.

“You’re leaving again?”

“On tour,” he said. “I was thinking that we could write while I’m gone, and when iI get back -”

“You want to talk to my father?” You grinned at your lap. “Real original, Johnny.”

“I’ve got a good feeling about this,” he said.

“Write me,” you said, “and we’ll talk.”

You reached over the space between the seats, turned his slim face to face you, and kissed him. It was as good a way to seal the deal as any.

#bandstand #johnny simpson #johnny simpson x reader #Ally writes

51 notes · View notes

imaginesforjohnnydepp · 3 years

Text

Meeting Johnny While Filming a Movie (Johnny Depp x fem reader)

@kittenlittle24 @evelynrosestuff

-So you’re a young actress, a college dropout much to your parents’ dismay, trying to make it in the industry when your agent tells you about a script for a movie called Rum Diary for a character named Chenault

of course, you may not match the physical description for the character but you manage to charm the casting directors and Johnny

only problem is, they’re also looking for Scarlett Johansson

thankfully she turns it down, which works out for you since you and Johnny have a natural chemistry

-He and Vanessa have been apart for a while now, but you’re still a little apprehensive because of the age difference

but holy shit, you’ve never been this attracted to anyone before

the two of you decide to give it a chance anyway

the media has a field day but you do your best to keep your relationship private

-You’re instantly a media darling during the press tour

you cover just about every magazine there is leading up to the movie’s release

the chemistry between you and Johnny in interviews is undeniable at this point

-Eventually, the two of you subtly confirm you’re a couple

getting approval from friends and family, especially his kids

-Trying to maintain the relationship as your career picks up speed

you’re finally starting to feel like an adult in a serious relationship

just a hint of talk about marriage

-The same online publications and people in the comment sections that tear down you and Johnny report about Catherine Zeta-Jones and Michael Douglas and their “amazing relationship”

really, what’s the difference between you and Johnny and CZJ and Michael Douglas?

you’re well above the age of consent

-Johnny finally popping the big question a year later

he came to visit you while you were filming in Canada

you had a day off due to the weather and they had to shut down production for at least a few days so the two of you just stayed in your hotel room all weekend ordering room service

you were definitely not expecting it because you were wearing your dad’s old college sweatshirt, a pair of gym shorts as the two of you were watching The Simpsons

of course you said yes

-The wedding was a simple beach wedding at Johnny’s estate in The Bahamas

the number of guests from your side was pretty small, just parents, niece and nephew who served as ring bearer and flower girl

-All of your naysayers being surprised that you’re still going strong years later people “apologizing” to you about the misogynistic jokes at your expense early in your career because of the feminism enlightenment

you proved that you were definitely here to stay after landing nominations at all the major award shows

“Y/N L/N and Megan Fox deserved better”

yeah, no shit

-You and Johnny eventually being relationship goals

#johnny depp imagines #johnny depp imagine #johnny depp x reader

242 notes · View notes

headoverhiddles · 5 years

Text

Universally Loathsome - Marilyn Manson x Reader

Synopsis: After his show at the Hard Rock in Orlando, you and your man put your complimentary Universal Studios park passes to good use.

Notes: I wrote this because Universal Florida is my happy place, and I need a pick me up right now lol. Also, this takes place right after this concert, so Heaven Upside Down era.

His lazy drawl fills the Hard Rock Cafe arena, as the strobes go crazy.

"I love you beautiful motherfuckers so much," he points to the crowd, to a response of deafening cheers, "Florida's where it all started for me, and... I almost got arrested for indecent exposure in Jacksonville, which is... pretty close to here." More cheering. "So if any willing gentlemen in the crowd would like to come up here... and let me put my dick in their mouth..." The cheers grow. "...History can repeat itself." He grins, stumbling around and leaning on the mic stand. "I wonder what would happen if I... oops," he pops the top button of his vest open. "Oh no, I can't believe I just showed you all my tits, ahh, I'm such a slut..."

The crowd is going absolutely insane, and he winks over to you suggestively. You watch your boyfriend, trying to hold in your giggles. He's in what he likes to call rascal mode tonight, you can tell. And good thing-- you two roped complimentary passes inside the theme park for the rest of the night to celebrate, so he can let out all this energy after the show. The regular park closes in a half an hour, horror nights too, with it being Halloween, but the extra hour is just for you two, paid for well no doubt.

After Mar's done and the strobes distract the audience enough for him to bound off stage, he runs into your open arms. After you hug your sweaty man, he picks you up, spinning you around and smiling like a big kid.

"Let's go play."

"Shower first," you give him a stern look. He nods, resigning himself to the fact that he's really gross and covered in sticky glitter makeup.

You hang out backstage as he gets cleaned up, saying goodnight to some of the roadies. You check social media and search for this concert, as you do sometimes just for fun, and see people already sharing photos they'd taken of Marilyn screaming or wading into the crowd.

You snort to yourself, and save one that looks right up his nostril. Beautiful angle, and perfect for blackmail when he's being a dick.

"Let's do this."

You turn, and see him dressed in a hoodie that reminds you of the full body zip from his High End Of Low days.

"I know what you're thinking, and no, this is not the depression hoodie," he sticks a finger in your face and wags it. "I burned that a long time ago." You pretend to bite his finger, and take his arm.

Your bodyguards, who warily agreed to leave the two of you alone once you get into the park, lead you down, out the back door of the hotel venue, and through a citywalk shortcut to the front gates of Universal Studios Orlando.

"I haven't been here since I was a teenager," you grin, listening to the entrance music and sighing from the nostalgia. "This has always been my happy place."

"I've literally never been here," he tells you, "We go to the one back home in LA, but I've never been to this one myself. I used to live here but I only ever wreaked havoc on Disney with Twiggy."

"Oh, Universal was spared?"

"Until now, yeah. So you'll have to be my tour guide here." He takes his sunglasses from his face, hands them off, and turns to his guards. "Okay, that's fine, we're fine."

"Sir, we really think--"

"We talked to the park operators, and there's like... nobody here right now, we're both fine," Marilyn insists, "Bye." So, you two are left alone as you walk toward the gates.

Your passes are scanned by an older woman who doesn't seem to recognize Marilyn, since his name on the pass is Brian. For the best. To your left, towers one of your favourite rides.

"The Rip Ride Rockit," Marilyn reads the sign, "Ooh. Ooh, I wanna do this. Fuckin cool looking."

"Bri, you get sick on roller coasters."

"I'm too drunk to be sick, the drunk sick makes me not motion sick."

"Well, glad to hear your body has a system," you sigh, and he takes your hand as you two run toward the lit up ride.

"You get to pick your song as you ride," he muses, "Motherfuckers should have my songs on here."

Because he likes to stir shit up and see what he can get away with, Marilyn uses a VIP lanyard with his face on it to get into the express lane.

"Uh..." the young employee hesitates, frowning, "Sir, this is a meet and greet for that concert, not for--" Marilyn puts his hood down, and the guy's eyes widen. He waves you both through, starstruck.

"Whoever said you shouldn't use your fame to get stuff... probably wasn't even famous," Marilyn says, pulling you up the steps.

"What's the hurry?" you laugh, trying to keep up, "You're just gonna throw up all over me anyway."

"It's a music ride, that's very exciting to me," he says. You can't deny you've missed this ride too, so you keep up.

You're the only two on the roller coaster train as you both pull the bar over from the side to strap yourselves in. The employee working comes over to check, and gives a thumbs up to the operator.

"Give me a handjob," he giggles.

"No! I'm gonna rip your dick off if we do that on this!"

"Nah, that'd happen like... on the Mummy." Apparently he remembers what the Mummy is like in the LA Universal park, and he's not wrong. "Uh. Uh," he starts to snap his fingers as the ride goes up, "Yeah. Hell yeah."

"What song?" you laugh.

"Stronger, by my boy Kanye."

"He's a dickhead, you know."

"So am I, doesn't make my music any less amazing."

You smirk. You'd picked Stronger as well, anyway.

After the ride, Marilyn hangs onto you, a little bit woozy. "That was a mistake."

"I told you."

"I don't listen, I'm a child, you know this. I don’t like the rides, but the rides like me."

You two walk through the park, past the San Francisco area of the water in the middle.

"This is nice. Just walking."

"Yeah," he says. "It's nice not to vomit." You rest your head on his shoulder, giggling.

You two do a few more rides-- he has way too much fun in Men in Black shooting at everything, and Simpsons becomes a favourite, even if the only part he could keep his eyes open for was the funny queue playing the episodes. He even takes some dark, creepy pictures with the employees in Diagon Alley, posing in his new Slytherin scarf he bought.

"Can this be used for sexy purposes?" he asks one of them, holding up a wand. The girls giggle, and you roll your eyes.

"Um. Wouldn't recommend it," one responds.

"On the other hand..." the second one shrugs, "It's magic. You could just make it into something that could be used for sexy times."

"I like the way this one thinks," Marilyn smirks. "(y/n), I'm gonna use this in you."

"Like hell you are.”

“Please?”

“You can use it to spank me.” You lean in to whisper. “It’s too thin to put it in.”

Marilyn buys the wand just to make up for the trouble he's causing the poor employees.

You head out of Harry Potter world, and circle back around to do ET.

"I wanna do the Mummy again. And what about those big ones across the citywalk thing? Spiderman, he's cool. I wanna do his ride."

"That's the other park. If you wanna deal with your manager having a meltdown by requesting another day here tomorrow, that's your call." He immediately takes out his phone, and you huff, feeling sorry for the guy, always having to rearrange flights last minute.

"Yeah, hey. It's me," Marilyn drawls into the phone, "I need another day here tomorrow. No, I'm just... I'm gonna be really hungover. Lots of vodka and drugs and stuff. Yeah. Amphetamines, got my face in a big... yeah, really bad, I won't be able to fly tomorrow." His eyes light up like a kid in a candy store as he sees the Halloween Horror Nights 2018 tribute store. "Gotta go, I'm snorting coke off (y/n)'s tits. Cancel my flight!"

You both run in, and get shirts from inside-- yours is a Halloween 4: The Return of Michael Myers one, and his is a Killer Klowns from Outer Space one, with a little clown in boxing gloves on it that says 'Shorty's Boxing Gym: Knocking Blocks Off Since '88." He poses for a picture of the new shirt in front of an old horror movie poster, hands in his jacket pockets and doing his signature sneer. He posts it on his Instagram, captioning it:

Next motherfucker's gonna get my metal. Pic📷: @(y/handle) #justustwoclowns #wannatussle #truelove #wehatelovewelovehate #happyhalloween #universalorlando #shooterjennings.

You head inside the Egyptian crypt that leads to the Mummy, listening to Brendan Fraser's fake interview about the strange things going on on set.

"I met him once," Marilyn tells you, "He was scared of me, he thought I was flirting with him."

"I can see how he would. You're just overly affectionate," you pat his arm.

"And high as fuck, but I wasn't flirting with him. He's too much of a pretty boy for me."

"Yet you still wanna fuck Johnny," you tease him, and he grins, unable to refute that.

You finally get to the loading area after Marilyn stumbles over four posts in the dark queue. The lady there squeals. She's a different one than the one working earlier, and she's obviously a fan.

"Sorry for her," her coworker says, "She's a huge fan of your stuff."

"Nah, it's cool," Marilyn offers a smile.

"I was at the concert, which is why I'm working late," she explains hyperactively, "God, you were soooo amazing!" Marilyn thanks her. She waves at you as well. "By the way, I see your pictures together on insta at shows and premieres and stuff, you two make a really cute couple. Goth icons!" You smile at the girl, and thank her and her coworker for working late for you two. An obligatory selfie later, you and Marilyn get into the ride, and start heading through the darkness. You get to the part where Imohtep's face appears and fire blows beside you.

"You say god," he mutters. "I say Say10."

You get off the ride, and you nearly lose your shit when you see the ride photo. You fall to the floor, and Marilyn looks up at the screen in inquiry.

"Oh my god."

"We're buying it!"

"Absolutely fucking not. Look at my chin!"

"I love your chins, baby."

"I only mentioned one, but thanks."

You dash over to the counter, ordering the picture in the biggest size. It's gold. In it, you've got one hand up happily, the other looped with Marilyn's, and you look generally normal, other than your hair blowing a little from the force of the acceleration. His eyes are glinting yellow from light reflection, so he looks legitimately possessed; he's got his chin pressed down into his neck folds, and his mouth is halfway open, like he just remembered something he wanted to say. It's the most awful picture of him you've ever seen, so naturally, it's getting framed at the house next to his lovely prosthetic limb collection.

"Mm, makes me wanna fuck you," you lick your lips, "Give it to me, baby, I wanna look into those sexy yellow eyes while you destroy my pussy."

"You're fucked up."

You nearly collapse in laughter again.

Despite the terribly candid ride picture, Marilyn decides he likes the Mummy a bit more than the Simpsons, and after riding it four more times without fail, he's nauseous as all hell (as are you) and done in for the night.

You hold hands, heading to the gates. "Hey. Want to stop at Ben and Jerry's on the way out?" you ask.

"Nah," he drawls, hand moving down to your ass and giving it a spank, "You're the only thing I wanna lick tonight." Even motion sick and half-way to hungover, he's still in rascal mode.

A car comes to pick you up, and some press follow you to the car for a bit, taking photos and asking Marilyn for comments on the park and the show until Marilyn wraps his Slytherin scarf around his face. He gets into the car with you, and rolls the window up. The paparazzi obviously saw the Instagram post.

That makes you think...

Messing around on your phone as you're driven back to the hotel, you giggle. Marilyn keeps looking over, but he's currently too nauseous still to speak. You giggle again, and send off what you'd just done.

"Happy Halloween," you grin, punching his shoulder playfully.

He looks at his buzzing phone, and snorts. His bad Mummy picture and stylish posing Instagram picture are side by side, with your accompanying text: "Get you a man who can do both."

129 notes · View notes

rawiswhore · 4 years

Text

Triple H x Fem Reader- “One Caress”

I've said this once, and I've said it again...December really is the most wonderful time of the year.

Not just because December is the month of Christmas, but Triple H shaved his facial hair he had in the summer of 1998, and you love Trips when he doesn't have facial hair.

That's not all, Shawn Michaels has made a brief little return to the WWF, Billy Gunn's hair has grown longer, and the Hardy Boyz get to wrestle in the company this month, how awesome is that?

Granted, Shawn did make a return to the WWF in the summer of 1998, looking hotter and sexier than ever before, though in December of that year, so many hot men are in the WWF that month.

Throughout 1998, there were many WWF stars who blew up in popularity, Stone Cold Steve Austin, Triple H, Sable and even you in general are examples, and another pro wrestler who is finally starting to go over that year is Kane.

Granted, Kane debuted his iconic brother of the Undertaker character whose face was burned during his childhood at the end of 1997, but keyword, that was at the end of the year.

Kane really blew up in 1998, and much like the Undertaker, one of Kane's signature moves is a "chokehold", where he grasps someone's neck in his hand and even lifts you up from the ground.

Nowadays, women would be all like "Choke me, Daddy!" to Kane.

And guess what?

In December of 1998, Kane even did that to you, where he grabbed onto your neck and lifted you up in the ring's mat, your feet and legs were kicking, looking like a kid about to be spanked.

You could've easily hurricanrana'd him where you wrap your legs around his neck and flip him over, but he's so much bigger than you are and you'd probably end up breaking a body part like your neck if you did that, and it's the Attitude era, which did have a few empowering storylines towards women (i.e. Sable wanting to get away from Johnny Mero's controlling ways), but this was the bikini contest/bra and panties/evening gown match era, where women were usually damsels in distress.

Besides, you're not even that strong either.

Despite Kane grabbing onto your neck, Triple H ran into the ring and saved the day, rescuing Kane from ever hurting you, though Kane could easily kick Triple H's ass.

Triple H threatened Kane not to hurt you, he cares deeply about you, but Kane doesn't care.

Although, Kane is just playing a character, he's not really an evil, demonic psychopath he plays in the ring, and he didn't even really hurt you that much when he grabbed your neck.

When the show was over, you were lying in a bed in a hotel room with Triple H, and instead of you lying on top of him, he was lying right next to you, laying on his stomach on the mattress.

He'd love to lay on top of you, but he's so much bigger and heavier than you are, he's afraid he might crush you.

You were tired that night, and while Kane didn't really hurt you, though...

Triple H remembers how you used to comfort him and gush about his body parts (and you aren't just talking about his penis).

He lifted his hand from the bed and placed the pads of his fingers on your neck, where he gently caressed and slid the pads of his fingers down your neck, where Kane's fingers were gripping your neck.

"Are you alright?" Triple H asked you. "I'm not hurting you or anything?"

"I’m fine!" you answered and confessed.”You’re not hurting me!”

Thank God, he thought.

The touch of his fingers stroking down your neck felt so good, perfect after Kane gripped on your neck.

"You have such a beautiful, slender, feminine neck" Triple H purred and complemented, his voice sounding gentle and soothing as his strokes of his fingers "I don't want anyone to break that gorgeous neck of yours"

Even though Triple H played a horny, immature fratboy who motions at his crotch and tells people to "suck it", he's a hopeless romantic deep down inside when he isn't playing an obnoxious cad on television (or even sometimes backstage).

You're even surprised he uses words like "slender" and "feminine" at you, wonder if he's taking his smooth talking and romantic quotes from Jacques from "The Simpsons" where he tries seducing Marge at a bowling alley?

You smiled hearing Triple H say those words to you, he really cares about you.

"Awwwww, thanks!" you said, smiling to him.

"You're welcome" he replied, smiling back at you, his voice husky but smooth.

"You sound like me at the beginning of this year when I was gushing over how big your neck and muscles are" you said. "Complete with caressing my neck"

That's probably where he got his idea to caress your neck and say those things to you.

"As a matter of fact, I do!" he said matter of factly, like he knows what he's doing.

He even nodded his head a bit when he said that and smiled.

You smiled right back at him, you looking like you're giggling at him.

The pads of his fingers weren't just sliding down your neck, but also the middle of your neck, where his gentle strokes and caresses made your arms feel these little tingles.

He really wants you to feel good, and you could use this after Kane grabbed onto your neck.

You're reclining your head on a pillow, the rest of your body, specifically the back of your body, resting and lying on a mattress.

"Nobody ever hurts my baby" he said, lifting one of his hands and pointing his index finger at yours.

He would never say anything like that on live television in the ring, though he wanted to say that to Kane or anyone else who tries to hurt you.

"If anyone else ever tries to hurt you, I'll fuck them up!" he threatened.

"Kane didn't really hurt me" you confessed "He's just playing a character"

"I know" Trips admitted. "I'm just saying, I'm looking after you"

Triple H really cares about you.

When you had a drug and alcohol addiction, back when Triple H was known as Hunter, he told you if you got off of drugs, he'd marry you, and he saved your life.

You did get off of drugs and alcohol just for him, though he hasn't proposed to you yet.

His knees crawled up a bit more towards you, his face and head getting closer to you.

He leaned his face into your face, and instead of kissing your lips, he nudged his nose into yours, although his nose was nudging against the right side of your nose.

He then began to brush his nose back and forth against yours, giving you what they call an "eskimo kiss".

You could feel his nose nudging into yours, and you made your head move back and forth, your nose nudging on his, "eskimo kissing" his nose back.

He suddenly paused, lifting his face up and away from yours.

Since tonight, he sounds and is acting somewhat like you were, you rolled your body over and toppled over him, he now lying on his back on the mattress.

This took him by surprise, he chuckled slightly when you rolled over and toppled over him.

"Sorry" you apologized "I hope you didn't mind me rolling on top of you"

"No, I don't" he confessed.

You have reasons why you rolled on top of him, though dammit, you could've done this while he was snuggling next to you and even slightly on top of you.

You lifted your hands from the mattress and placed them on his jawline, where your hands caressed and roamed on his face.

"I'm so happy you've shaved" you confessed, saying this while you caressed his face. "Your face is now so smooth and hairless, just the way I like it"

"Thanks!" he replied, smiling at you.

"You're welcome" you replied, smiling at him back.

"I regret that the Undertaker or even Kane didn't have a moment where they 'chokeheld' me back at the beginning of this year" you confessed "Or even in July of this year".

"Why?" he asked.

"You looked so hot at the beginning of this year" you explained. "And you could've comforted and caressed my neck after the Undertaker or Kane chokeheld me, during this same time I used to gush about your muscles and long blond hair and your thick neck"

He nodded his head, understanding you.

And you caressing his face brings him back to the beginning of 1998, when you squeezed his muscles and kissed his neck.

Speaking of necks, he leaned his face into your slender neck, his nose nudging into the middle of your neck, where his nose slid down your neck.

You felt his nose slide down your neck, his nose tickling your neck.

Yeah, people make fun of him for his big nose, but you love his iconic, signature big nose.

He pulled his face away from your neck, he slightly panicking.

"Are you okay?" he asked. "I'm not hurting your neck or anything?"

"No, you're fine!" you confessed. "If I was hurting, I'd say it!"

Indeed.

He leaned his face back in your neck, continuing to slide his nose down your neck.

When the tip of his nose reached the bottom of your neck, he lifted it to the right side of your neck, where Kane gripped his fingers, and slid it down your neck.

You didn't mind this at all, though you prefer his finger tips doing that to your neck instead of his nose.

Since Triple H has such beautiful, golden blond hair, you moved one of your hands behind his head and squeezed it between the back of his head and the mattress, where you ran your fingers down and through his long golden locks.

His hair is so long, smooth and silky, perfect for you to run your fingers down and through.

His nose slid down anywhere where Kane grabbed your neck, he was trying to comfort you.

Since you used to kiss on Trips' thick, wide neck at the beginning of this year and gush over his neck, his lips nudged into your neck, where he brushed and slid his lips down the middle of your neck instead of his nose.

He even let his breath out on your neck while he did this since Kane "hurt" your neck.

This feels so good, tingles are running down your spine and the hair on your arms is standing up.

"Ohhhhh, yeaaahhhhh!" you moaned, your head leaning back and your face looking like you're having an orgasm.

He could ask you if he's hurting you, but you aren't crying out in pain, and you sound like you're enjoying this, so...

Plus, Kane didn't hurt you that much.

When he reached the bottom of your neck, he moved his lips over to the left side of your neck, brushing and sliding his lips down your neck, releasing his breath out of his mouth.

His lips slid down the right side of your neck as well, anywhere where Kane grasped your neck.

He didn't just slide his lips down your neck, but also kissed your neck a few times as well, burying his face in your neck, kissing your neck like it was your lips.

Before the two of you drifted off to sleep, he should've threatened and shouted that if anyone ever tries to hurt you, he'll fuck that person up, that's how much he cares about you.

He doesn't care about you so much he'd abuse and control you like Stone Cold Steve Austin did to Debra in the early 2000's, but he does love you very much.

Throughout your relationship with Triple H, he never hurt you, never tried controlling you, what you wear, or gave you any rules.

He's a wonderful lover.

#triple h #1998 #90s #wwf #attitude era #fanfiction

2 notes · View notes

tabloidtoc · 4 years

Text

National Enquirer, March 2

Cover: $100 billion Mormon charity scandal exposed

Page 2: Rihanna has been trying to party away her pain since her nearly three-year romance Hassan Jameel ended and her family wants her to ditch Hollywood and come home to Barbados

Page 3: Julia Roberts kisses and holds hands with Bruce Bozzi as husband Danny Moder was right next to her

Page 4: Reba McEntire and Kelly Clarkson are the best of friends in public but behind the scenes Kelly thinks Reba is the mother-in-law from hell

Page 5: Amber Heard spent Oscar night at a party trashing ex Johnny Depp and claiming she was the real victim despite audiotapes where she admits she hit Johnny, Quentin Tarantino is taking heat for basing a character in Once Upon a Time in Hollywood on convicted pedophile James Stacy

Page 6: Child star turned train wreck Macaulay Culkin is sparking new fears he will spiral into a drug- and booze-fueled relapse after making light of his struggles with addiction, Robert Conrad was still alive when his family began feuding over his $10 million estate

Page 7: Anne Heche says she’s broke and doesn’t have enough money for food and shelter and also asked a judge to order her ex James Tupper to pay back child support payments in their ongoing legal battle over their ten-year-old son Atlas

Page 8: Chrissy Teigen has been secretly tormented by domestic violence hell -- her brother-in-law tried to strangle her half sister Yatinee

Page 9: Troubled Matthew Perry has been included in plans for the upcoming Friends reunion but he’s been iced out of social gatherings with his former sitcom pals for fear he’ll go off the rails

Page 10: Hot Shots -- Alfonso Ribeiro, Jenny McCarthy and Donnie Wahlberg, Diane Keaton

Page 11: A tarot reader told 46-year-old Heidi Klum she would get pregnant and now Heidi and husband Tom Kaulitz are committed to making it come true, Jon Peters says he paid off $200,000 of Pamela Anderson’s debt before ending their marriage after 12 days

Page 12: Straight Shuter -- Green Day and Snoop Dogg and Martha Stewart make cocktails on Ellen, Liza Minnelli looks unrecognizable on the cover of Variety, Jay-Z is producing next year’s Super Bowl halftime show and has already booked himself and wife Beyonce, Jennifer Lopez’s daughter Emme has been receiving record deals since she took the stage at the Super Bowl halftime show but she’s only 12 so her parents J.Lo and Marc Anthony want to take things slow, Jessica Simpson is in talks to join RHOBH

Page 13: Jim Carrey acted like a sleazebag during promotions for Sonic the Hedgehog when he told a female reporter that the only thing left to do on his bucket list was her, Chris Brown and Amber Rose got facial tattoos, Jussie Smollett has been hit with six new charges for allegedly lying to Chicago cops about a racist and homophobic attack

Page 14: True Crime

Page 15: Coronavirus is Chinese bioweapon gone rogue

Page 16: Jennifer Aniston still wants to have kids, Kate Hudson is planning a wedding to musician Danny Fujikawa and wants all her kids’ dads to perform at the wedding like Chris Robinson of The Black Crowes and Matt Bellamy of Muse

Page 17: Kobe Bryant saved his once-troubled marriage to Vanessa Bryant by rediscovering his Catholic faith

Page 18: Real Life

Page 19: Lizzo lived in her car before hitting it big, Dr. Oz’s once-popular talk show is on life support and he has reached out to Kathie Lee Gifford to revive it

Page 20: Jeffrey Epstein’s former right-hand woman Ghislaine Maxwell is selling his darkest secrets to the highest bidder, Prince Harry and Meghan Markle were plotting a billion-dollar money grab before Megxit

Page 21: JonBenet Ramsey’s possible killers named in a podcast

Page 22: Cover Story -- Mormon Church rocked by $100 billion scandal -- whistleblowers claim officials misled members and never spent treasure collected for charity

Page 24: America’s dirty clergy revealed

Page 28: New probe into Malcolm X killing -- lawyers say two were wrongly convicted in the 1965 shooting

Page 29: How to spot a spycam in your hotel

Page 30: Health Watch

Page 36: Tupac Shakur is alive and being guarded by a Navajo tribe in New Mexico, Ozzy Osbourne’s Parkinson’s disease has devastated his family but his daughter Kelly Osbourne said the tragedy has brought the two of them closer together

Page 38: Aging diva Madonna was kicked to the curb by boytoy Ahlamalik Williams and has been hell to deal with ever since, Tanya Tucker finally getting married at age 61, Hollywood Hookups -- Mario Bello and Dominique Crenn engaged, Don Felder engaged to Diane McInerney

Page 42: Red Carpet Stars & Stumbles -- Oscars -- Florence Pugh, Gal Gadot, Scarlett Johansson, Natalie Portman, Janelle Monae

Page 45: Spot the Differences -- Tesla co-stars Ethan Hawke and Kyle MacLachlan at Sundance

#tabloid #tabloid toc #mormon church #julia roberts

17 notes · View notes

littleoddwriter · 2 years

Note

Headcanons for Johnny Tightlips x Male!reader with long hair?

Johnny Tightlips x Male!Reader | Headcanons

Hi there! Thanks for the request, I hope you like these! :')

notes; Male!Reader; Long Hair; Love Languages; Hair Brushing & Styling; Fluff; Implied/Referenced Toxic Masculinity & Threats.

He's more physically than verbally affectionate, and he loves playing with your hair, not only because he likes it as a whole, but also because he knows it makes you feel good and loved, and that's all he wants.

Absolutely lives for styling your hair - he's actually very talented and so it's become quite the routine for you in the morning to sit down and have Johnny do your hair however you or he want(s) it.

In the evening, he brushes it out for you. It's so soothing for him to come home and just sit back and relax, while he's only focusing on the brush strokes.

If someone makes a comment along the lines of 'real men don't have long hair', he puts the fear of God into that person, then. He's just very protective of you in general, but if anybody dares to give you shit for having long hair, he's basically going feral because your hair is one of his most favourite things about you.

#fluff headcanons #x male reader #male reader #male reader insert #johnny tightlips #springfield mafia #the simpsons

28 notes · View notes

viralhottopics · 7 years

Text

Kids’ Choice Awards 2017: The Complete Winners List!

The kids have spoken — and it’s not just about John Cena getting slimed!!

The 2017 Kids’ Choice Awards took place Saturday night, and some stars walked away as fan favorites.

In case you missed any of the awards, we’ve got the complete winners list right here.

Ch-ch-check it out (below)!

Favorite Kids’ Show

Game Shakers Girl Meets World Henry Danger (Winner) Nicky, Ricky, Dicky & Dawn The Thundermans

Favorite Family Show

Big Bang Theory Black-ish Fuller House (Winner) Marvel’s Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. Supergirl The Flash

Favorite Reality Show

America’s Funniest Home Videos America’s Got Talent (Winner) American Ninja Warrior Paradise Run Shark Tank The Voice

Favorite Cartoon

ALVINNN!!! and The Chipmunks SpongeBob SquarePants (Winner) Teen Titans Go! Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles The Amazing World of Gumball The Loud House

Favorite Male TV Star

Benjamin Flores Jr. (Triple G, Game Shakers) Aidan Gallagher (Nicky, Nicky, Ricky, Dicky & Dawn) Jack Griffo (Max, The Thundermans) Jace Norman (Henry, Henry Danger) (Winner) Casey Simpson (Ricky, Nicky, Ricky, Dicky & Dawn) Tyrel Jackson Williams (Leo, Lab Rats)

Favorite Female TV Star

Zendaya (K.C., K.C. Undercover) (Winner) Rowan Blanchard (Riley, Girl Meets World) Dove Cameron (Liv and Maddie, Liv and Maddie) Lizzy Greene (Dawn, Nicky, Ricky, Dicky & Dawn) Kira Kosarin (Phoebe, The Thundermans) Breanna Yde (Tomika, School of Rock)

Favorite Movie

Batman v Superman: Dawn of Justice Captain America: Civil War Ghostbusters (Winner) Pete’s Dragon Rogue One: A Star Wars Story Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles: Out of the Shadows

Favorite Movie Actor

Ben Affleck (Batman, Batman v Superman: Dawn of Justice) Will Arnett (Vernon, Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles: Out of the Shadows) Henry Cavill (Superman, Batman v Superman: Dawn of Justice) Robert Downey Jr. (Iron Man, Captain America: Civil War) Chris Evans (Captain America, Captain America: Civil War) Chris Hemsworth (Kevin, Ghostbusters) (Winner)

Favorite Movie Actress

Amy Adams (Lois, Batman v Superman: Dawn of Justice) Megan Fox (April, Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles: Out of the Shadows) Scarlett Johansson (Black Widow, Captain America: Civil War) Felicity Jones (Jyn, Rogue One: A Star Wars Story) Melissa McCarthy (Abby, Ghostbusters) (Winner) Kristen Wiig (Erin, Ghostbusters)

Favorie Animated Movie

Finding Dory (Winner) Moana Sing The Secret Life of Pets Trolls Zootopia

Favorite Voice From An Animated Movie

Ellen DeGeneres (Dory, Finding Dory) (Winner) Kevin Hart (Snowball, The Secret Life of Pets) Dwayne Johnson (Maui, Moana) Anna Kendrick (Poppy, Trolls) Justin Timberlake (Branch, Trolls) Reese Witherspoon (Rosita, Sing)

Favorite Villain

Helena Bonham Carter (The Red Queen, Alice Through the Looking Glass) Idris Elba (Krall, Star Trek Beyond) Will Ferrell (Mugatu, Zoolander 2) Kevin Hart (Snowball, The Secret Life of Pets) (Winner) Charlize Theron (Ravenna, The Huntsman: Winter’s War) Spencer Wilding (Darth Vader, Rogue One: A Star Wars Story)

Favorite Butt-Kicker

Ben Affleck (Batman, Batman v Superman: Dawn of Justice) Henry Cavill (Superman, Batman v Superman: Dawn of Justice) Chris Evans (Captain America, Captain America: Civil War) (Winner) Chris Hemsworth (The Huntsman, The Huntsman: Winter’s War) Scarlett Johansson (Black Widow, Captain America: Civil War) Felicity Jones (Jyn, Rogue One: A Star Wars Story) Jennifer Lawrence (Mystique, X-Men: Apocalypse) Zoe Saldana (Lieutenant Uhura, Star Trek Beyond)

BFFs (Best Friends Forever)

Ruby Barnhill & Mark Rylance (Sophie/BFG, The BFG) Kevin Hart & Dwayne Johnson (Bob/Calvin, Central Intelligence) (Winner) Kevin Hart & Ice Cube (Ben/James, Ride Along 2) Chris Pine & Zachary Quinto (Captain Kirk/Spock, Star Trek Beyond) Neel Sethi & Bill Murray (Mowgli/ Baloo, Jungle Book) Ben Stiller & Owen Wilson (Derek/Hansel, Zoolander 2)

Favorite Frenemies

Ben Affleck & Henry Cavill (Batman/Superman, Batman v Superman: Dawn of Justice) Chris Evans & Robert Downey Jr. (Captain America/Iron Man, Captain America: Civil War) Ginnifer Goodwin & Jason Bateman (Judy/Nick, Zootopia) (Winner) Dwayne Johnson & Auli’I Cravalho (Moana/Maui, Moana) Anna Kendrick & Justin Timberlake (Poppy/Branch, Trolls) Charlize Theron & Emily Blunt (Ravenna/Freya, The Huntsman: Winter’s War)

Most Wanted Pet

Baloo from The Jungle Book (Bill Murray) Dory from Finding Dory (Ellen DeGeneres) Po from Kung Fu Panda 3 (Jack Black) Red from The Angry Birds Movie (Jason Sudeikis) Rosita from Sing (Reese Witherspoon) Snowball from The Secret Life of Pets (Kevin Hart) (Winner)

#Squad

Finding Dory Ellen DeGeneres, Albert Brooks, Kaitlin Olson, Hayden Rolence, Willem Dafoe, Ed O’Neill, Ty Burrell, Eugene Levy (Winner)

Captain America: Civil War – Chris Evans, Robert Downey Jr., Scarlett Johansson, Sebastian Stan, Anthony Mackie, Don Cheadle, Jeremy Renner, Chadwick Boseman Ghostbusters Melissa McCarthy, Kristen Wiig, Kate McKinnon, Leslie Jones Rogue One: A Star Wars Story Felicity Jones, Forest Whitaker, Diego Luna, Ben Mendelsohn, Alan Tudyk, Donnie Yen, Riz Ahmed, Mads Mikkelsen Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles: Out of the Shadows Noel Fisher, Jeremy Howard, Pete Ploszek, Alan Ritchson X-Men: Apocalypse James McAvoy, Michael Fassbender, Jennifer Lawrence, Nicholas Hoult, Evan Peters, Tye Sheridan, Ben Hardy, Kodi Smit-McPhee, Sophie Turner, Alexandra Shipp, Olivia Munn

Favorite Music Group

The Chainsmokers Fifth Harmony (Winner) Maroon 5 OneRepublic Pentatonix Twenty One Pilots

Favorite Male Singer

Drake Justin Bieber Bruno Mars Shawn Mendes (Winner) Justin Timberlake The Weeknd

Favorite Female Singer

Adele Beyonc Ariana Grande Selena Gomez (Winner) Rihanna Meghan Trainor

Favorite Song

“24K Magic” Bruno Mars “Can’t Stop the Feeling!” Justin Timberlake “Heathens” Twenty One Pilots “Send My Love (To Your New Lover)” Adele “Side to Side” Ariana Grande ft. Nicki Minaj “Work From Home” Fifth Harmony ft. Ty Dolla $ign (Winner)

Favorite New Artist

Kelsea Ballerini The Chainsmokers Daya Lukas Graham Solange Rae Sremmurd Hailee Steinfeld Twenty One Pilots (Winner)

Favorite Music Video

“24K Magic” Bruno Mars “Can’t Stop the Feeling!” Justin Timberlake “Formation” Beyonc “Juju on That Beat” Zay Hilfigerrr and Zayion McCall (Winner) “Me Too” Meghan Trainor “Stressed Out” Twenty One Pilots

Favorite DJ/EDM Artist

Martin Garrix Calvin Harris (Winner) Major Lazer Skrillex DJ Snake Zedd

Favorite Soundtrack

Hamilton Me Before You Moana Sing Suicide Squad (Winner) Trolls

Favorite Viral Music Artist

Tiffany Alvord Matty B Carson Lueders Johnny Orlando Jacob Sartorius JoJo Siwa (Winner)

Favorite Global Music Star

5 Seconds of Summer (Australia/New Zealand) BIGBANG (Asia) Bruno Mars (North America) Little Mix (UK) (Winner) Shakira (South America) Zara Larsson (Europe)

Favorite Video Game

Just Dance 2017 (Winner) Lego Marvel’s Avengers Lego Star Wars: The Force Awakens Minecraft: Story Mode Paper Mario: Color Splash Pokmon Moon

So fun!!!

Congrats to all the BIG winners!!!

What’d U think of last night’s show, Perezcious readers?! Let us know in the comments (below)!!!