#arcade apron

[zoomar]

Order Now!

Pac-Man You'll eat it up! Bumper Sticker

I ❤️ Pac-Man Apron

[plu-mo]

[red-robin-yum08]

I’ve finally been able to play Gotham knights and I just wanted to share some of my favorite screenshots so far😋

Tims little sticky notes that say “Robin rules” are my favorite thing

[lexirosewrites]

Day 7: Pack Dynamics

for @stmarchmm

Steve suspects something is wrong the moment he sees Max’s face.

He’s used to her stopping by a couple times a week, but school just let out a few minutes ago and she’s normally at the arcade with the rest of the party on Thursday afternoons.

“Hey, Red, what’cha doing here? Need more quarters? I think Dustin cleared me out last week to beat Will’s score on Donkey Kong, but I can go dig around the couch cushions or—”

Her lip is wobbling before he can finish drying the cup in his hands.

Steve tosses it recklessly back into the sink.

“Steve…” Max whines, the sad cry of a distressed pup making its way out of her throat.

He haphazardly dries his hands on his favorite apron then tosses it on the counter. Max needs him and household chores can wait.

His pups always come first.

“Shhhh, I’m here, pup. I’ve got you,” he purrs.

She���s not much of a toucher, let alone a hugger, but Max melts into his embrace and her face buries into Steve’s chest, subconsciously seeking out his scent for comfort.

Whatever has her so worked up, it’s a good sign. She knows who her pack is and that he’ll take care of her.

Steve continues to softly shush Max as melodically as he can, rocking them both back and forth like he would a fussy baby.

“Maxine… do you mind if we move this elsewhere? I’ve never met a problem I can’t solve from the comfort of my nest and I know we haven’t cuddled in a while.”

She doesn’t answer right away, but she definitely heard him.

A minute later, she nods and pulls away enough to look at his face. Not surprisingly, there are tear tracks down her freckled cheeks.

His heart hurts for her.

“Nest please,” Max agrees hoarsely.

He chirps.

Freeing up his body, he offers a hand for her to hold while they relocate to Steve’s nesting room.

Eddie had insisted on designating it as such just a few months after they started living together.

It mostly has the benefit of keeping the pack out of their personal bedroom.

They love their pack, but one can only be barged in on so many times before locks become necessary and Steve’s nest is a popular hangout spot for the pups.

“Climb in, Red,” he invites, gesturing towards the nest.

Steve had just straightened it up and changed the sheets earlier.

She hesitates for some unknown reason.

He cocks his head to the side, waiting for an explanation as to why she’s not jumping in like she usually does.

Max’s eyes flicker down from his face to his belly.

Ah. Right. That.

“Get in first and then you can help me,” he offers.

She accepts the compromise, settling herself amongst the many fluffy pillows, ultra soft blankets, and scent trinkets.

As soon as she’s comfortable, her hand shoots out towards him. It’s obvious she’s worried about his balance despite her own ongoing problems.

Max is a good kid.

He’s actually become quite skilled at moving about in their home since becoming pregnant, but the pups have their own instincts and they’re primarily to protect Steve and his unborn baby.

He still lets her help him into the nest.

“Thank you,” Steve tells her, even though it truly wasn’t necessary.

She falls right back into his form.

“I’m sorry.”

He glances down where she’s got her head tucked under his arm, unable to look at her face. All he can really see is the top of her shiny copper locks.

“For what, pup? It was just about time for an afternoon nap anyway and you know I love company,” he reassures her.

Eddie isn’t due home from work for at least another hour, but he knows his mate won’t mind if they have an extra place setting at dinner.

If anything, this is another opportunity for them to practice being parents.

They’ve only got a couple months left until it all becomes real.

“What’s going on, honey? Boy problems? Kids at school being jerks? Someone in ‘The Party’ being a jerk? You know I can put them in their place if I need to.”

She snorts. It’s a start.

“I’m not ready to talk about it,” Max whispers.

Her hand finds his bump and rests there lightly, gently.

“That’s okay. We don’t need to talk if you don’t want to. Is there anything else I can do to help though?”

His own omegan instincts are going a bit crazy not knowing how to make Max well again. She’s his responsibility and so is her happiness.

His pups are truly everything.

They all know he’ll soon have another pup— one related by blood and not just strong pack ties and scent, but they also know Steve is their mother too.

Some of them have moms already, but he is their second one. Someone to cuddle them and love them.

Protect them from the world.

As head alpha of the pack, Eddie has become their honorary father too.

It’s their shared drive as a mated couple to assure their pack is healthy and taken care of. Dysfunctional at times though it may be, their pack is full of so much love.

Steve’s never been happier.

Now if he could figure out how to bubble wrap all of the pups and shield them from all dangers, that would be perfect.

“Just this is good. I… I missed you,” Max confesses.

He gives her a gentle squeeze.

“Missed you too. Been pretty busy around here lately,” he remarks softly.

Her head pops up, curiosity filling her young face.

“Did you and Eddie get the nursery set up yet? I know you bought the paint this weekend and Lucas said—”

She cuts herself off with a sour frown and a bitter scent.

Oh. This is definitely a boy problem. Something with Lucas.

Steve knows their puppy love is messy sometimes. Young love and all that. But they’re generally pretty sweet to one another.

Clearly something happened.

It’s not his place to push. She’ll speak when she’s ready.

“Eddie actually spent three fucking hours trying to put that crib together.”

She laughs. Loudly.

He knew she would find it funny. Steve doesn’t swear around the kids often and Max has a potty mouth worse than most grown alphas.

“That dumbass,” she giggles.

“My dumbass,” he reminds her. “Best man I’ve ever known.”

He’s not even lying or exaggerating. Eddie is a godsend.

Perfect? Never. Loyal, loving, kindhearted, brave, and protective? Beyond Steve’s wildest dreams.

“You’re lucky.”

He is.

“I am. Eddie loves me a lot. He’s gonna be a good dad. If he learns to follow instructions better, he might even be a great one.”

Max hums in agreement. A bit contemplative.

“I think Lucas might be in love with me.”

Okay, so they are gonna talk about it after all.

“He might. Does that scare you?” Steve asks casually. There’s nothing casual about her finally opening up.

Her hand on his belly gets tense, but the touch is still light.

“Maybe… Everyone always leaves.”

Steve forces himself to relax. To not slander the dead or blame the only living blood relative she has left.

“They’d have to pry me away from you, Max. Eddie and I would never leave you of our own free will. We love you too,” he states.

This isn’t about them. But she needs to hear it.

“I know,” she whispers. “And I love you too, mom. I promise I’ll talk to Lucas about it tomorrow.”

His pups will be alright.

“That’s my girl.”

Steve pops an affectionate kiss to the crown of her head.

She purrs. So does he.

Therapeutic pup cuddles are so much better than washing the dishes.

[pucksandpower]

F1 Secret Santa 2023 Summary

Lance to Fernando: a captain hat for his new yacht and a bottle of wine

Yuki to Lance: a beanie (or toque in Canadian)

Zhou to Yuki: a Chinese cookbook and an apron

Charles to Zhou: a (second) Bottass calendar that he tried to return to Charles only for Charles to give it back to him again

Fernando to Charles: a padel racket

Nico to Pierre: a tripod 😉

Esteban to Nico: a 🥱 mug

George to Esteban: a Spider-Man travel mug, carrying case, and neck pillow

Kevin to George: a Santa Hoptimist (Danish figurine)

Logan to Kevin: a “shhh … I’m watching racing with daddy” onesie and a book about the best road trips in the USA

Lando to Logan: a Miami Heat mini hoop and basketball

Pierre to Lando: the actual gift (a headcover with Lando’s face on it) didn’t arrive in time so an “OnlyPutts” golf marker as a placeholder

Oscar to Alex: customized golf balls

Daniel to Oscar: a koala t-shirt and Christmas candies (is it still Secret Santa if your Secret Santa is impatient and spoils that he is your Secret Santa before you can even open your gift?)

Checo to Daniel: limited edition tequila

Alex to Checo: a Williams teddy bear and kids clothing plus Alex Albon Athletics sneakers

Max to Valterri: “A Simply Lovely Look at the Butt in Art” (a book of those photos of Valterri overlaid on existing pieces of art)

Carlos to Max: a vintage arcade mini

Valterri to Carlos: chilli pepper swim briefs and chilli hot sauce

[makingfanfictionstosleep]

im just thinking about lads men as girl dads...

zayne

i cant imagine him having a girl because it would require a lot from the stoic, indifferent and serious doctor

like imagine zayne's hair with many colorful hair rubber ties, clips and ribbons

him sitting on a tiny tea set — with pink apron, forced by his princess to use his 'girl voice', surrounded by plushies

if he grows a mullet, expect that it would be tied into two ponytails or tiny braids

ballet classes — he'd be forced to memorize the steps in case his wife wont be able to cover the practice at home due to hunter missions

he'd be forced by his princess to wear a tutu

and of course the tiny version of his wife would pout if he refuse to wear a crown that should go with a tutu

of course he has to role play the fairy god mother, with the wand and again... the 'girl' voice

would play elsa because of his evol

and his wife has a whole collection of photos and videos of the great doctor zayne who cant say no to a tiny girl because he love his princess so much

xavier

his daughter's personal lampshade during scary nights

his soft, gentle voice is perfect in calming his baby girl, would lull her back to sleep just listening to him ramble about random things

would tell bedtime stories and make it extra magical because of his evol

also would be forced to be the fair god mother because he can create fairy dusts

prefers it if his daughter would play with his fluffy hair cause it means he gets to lie down

would take her to the arcade and win a lot of plushies

his daughter would always get the full princess treatment — according to philos customs

rafayel

of course his daughter is a combination of his sass and his wife's stubbornness

would often argue over petty things, but of course he is just being playful (sometimes)

gets a taste of his own medicine (and his wife would too)

he'd often get surprised with his daughter's witty comeback, to the point that he'd have to stop himself from smiling proudly because its gonna bite him back in the ass.

loves tea party — would turn his hair to his sea god form, complete with his 'girl' voice

forced to play little mermaid, with the sea shells on his chest

sometimes he'd whine at you dramatically, how the sea god's powers have been reduced to a toddler's entertainment.

sylus

complete opposite of zayne — doesnt bat an eye at every request of his darling princess

tutu and crown? he'd wear the rainbow ones.

he'd even be a stage dad, prompting his girl the steps by gesturing — with a smug look.

would often compete with his wife on the favorite parent

knows every disney princess movie song lyrics

uses his 'girl' voice at tea party, but his girl would stop him because he sounded weird (he complains about it to his wife)

would force mephisto to stay away from his girl because it would get fat again (but the crow would sneak in her room at night)

ended up influencing his girl with his love for cars and motorcycles

built her own tiny castle in his mansion

caleb

would make his baby float in the air

sometimes he'd use his baby girl's tight grip to grab the remote from the coffee table using his evol

rough house plays — tickle time, bed wrestling, etc

his princess loves his bedtime stories

lets his baby use his bionic arm as a tree branch

painted nails, make up — yes, he'd let his girl do it on him

would let his girl draw on his bionic arm, even had one drawing marked on it permanently

can do his princess' hair perfectly — pigtails, braids, buns — all of it.

of course all of them spoil their own kid rotten.

[bellloving]

harringrove baby au <3 after (somehow) surviving the events of season 3 and scraping through his senior year, billy moves out of neil's house into a little apartment and gets a job working as a mechanic, pulling long hours trying to build up his California fund. he's barely got the energy to pull off his shoes before passing out on the couch most nights, so of course life throws another curveball at him in the form of an old fling dropping off a baby girl with his eyes. she's the sweetest thing he's ever seen and he's in love immediately but he's barely keeping his head above water as it is. billy needs help and he needs it fast. when it comes to the decision of who to ask, it's a no-brainer. billy knows that steve has experience with kids, seeing him drive the party to and from the arcade and hearing tommy jeer about how nancy's got him so whipped she has him babysitting holly. but most importantly, steve already knows. billy won't have to explain the scarring on his chest, or his habit of keeping the lights on throughout the night, or the night terrors that may have slowed down but never stopped. steve plays hard to get, but even he can admit that the offer is pretty good, free room and board with a nice weekly pay. with robin about to head out to college in Indianapolis, the thought of staying in that big empty house without her climbing in the window every night makes steve's skin crawl (plus he'll need a new gig anyway since there's no way he's staying at family video without her). his life is already ridiculous enough, why not add being his high school rival's live in nanny into the mix? but both of them quickly come to regret the arrangement. billy coming home to steve with an apron on and his baby on his hip, dinner cooking on the stove and the house spotless, fussing over billy and helping him take his boots off, running him a bath. steve seeing billy come home in his mechanic overalls, rough hands soft on his hips moving him out of the way to reach the sink, blond curls escaping from his ponytail to frame his face, asking steve how his day was, what his girl did today, if he needs any money when he goes to the store tomorrow. living in such close quarters, learning the smell of each other's body wash, fleeting touches as they bump into each other around the house, horrible horrible torture <3

[bullet-prooflove]

Good People: Carmen "Carmy" Berzatto x Reader

Tagging: @kmc1989 @wabi-sabi1090 @lostinwonderland314 @turtle-cant-communicate @fallout-girl219

Takes place after:

The Farm - Carmy recalls the day you met.

Prequel to:

Pears - It starts when Carmy makes an order he doesn't remember.

Mornings - Carmy sleeps better with you around.

Bubble - You have no idea that you saved Carmy's life.

Crazy, Stupid, Fucked Up World (NSFW) - Carmy tells you he lvoes you for the first time.

Everyone knows that Carmy has a thing for the farm girl. It’s the way his attention shifts when your name is mentioned, the fact it’s him that signs for the orders and no one else. They watch as he asks about your day and raise their eyebrows when he stands there and actually listens.

“You may as well be giving her fuck me eyes.” Richie says as he tries to wrestle The Beef t-shirt onto an inflatable hotdog in Jimmy’s backyard.

The two of them are setting up for that ridiculous kid’s party, hoping to knock a couple of grand off the debt Mikey owed him.

“I don’t have fuck me eyes.” Carmy mutters, focusing on slicing the oranges for the homemade Ectoplasm he’s made because Unc’s kid is nuts about Ghostbusters.

“Oh you do. You fucking do.” Richie argues as he pulls out the duct tape. “It’s probably the reason we’re getting such a discount, she likes the way you shake that pasty white ass underneath that little apron of yours.”

“You’re a fucking asshole.” He snaps at Richie, launching a piece of fruit at the back of  Richie’s head. It smacks him right on the dome and the other man turns to face him furious.

“What the fuck is with you?” Richie retorts, throwing it back. “Last month you got the shit kicked out of you by a guy dressed like a carrot, now you’re whoring yourself out for cucumbers. You’ve got issues man, big ones.”

Carmen really has nothing to say to that because honestly if he had to whore himself out to keep this business going, he probably fucking would. That’s exactly where his self-respect is right now, rock fucking bottom. It’s the reason he’s out here in the fucking suburbs slinging gourmet hot dogs for little monsters have no fucking clue how the real world works.

“I hate you.” He tells Richie as he throws himself back into his work the same way he always does. “I fucking hate you.”

It’s an hour later that Richie does the uncharacteristic thing and apologizes. Carmy thinks it’s probably got something to do with the Xanex he took about an hour ago.

“I shouldn’t have said that about Alice.” Richie says, rubbing his palm over the back of his neck. “She’s good people.”  

“Yea she is.” Carmy responds as he starts to make up another hotdog. “She’s helping us out in a bind because she’s a good person. It’s got nothing to do with my ass.”

Richie tilts his head from side to side as he pulls the bottle of Xanax out of his coat pocket and spills another tablet into his palm.

“It’s a little to do with your ass.” Richie tells him as he takes the pill, washing it down with a cup of Ecto.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Carmy asks as he puts the finishing touches on his masterpiece.

“It means for some fucked up reason she likes you.” Richie responds, shrugging his shoulders. “I don’t know why, you’re basically a fucking mop with eyes but she does and you should really do something about that.”

“Like what Richie?” Carmy retorts, turning to face him, his hands coming to rest on his hips. “I run a sandwich shop that’s failing so badly I had to pay for our meat order with change out the arcade machine thirty days ago, I’ve got jack shit to offer anyone right now.”

“I’m just saying you deserve to be happy.” Richie says as he leans back against the fold up table, the tension in his shoulders relaxing. “Mikey would have wanted you to be happy.”

Carmy doesn’t know what Mikey would have wanted because Mikey, he’s not here to tell him.

“That second Xanex just kicked in didn’t it?” Carmy remarks, changing the subject and Richie exhales, nodding his head.

“Oh yea, big time. I don’t feel a fucking thing.”

It’s on the way home, that Carmy starts to think about what Richie said, about you, about being happy.

Sitting in those fields at your farm on his days off, shooting the shit with you. It’s the closest thing to contentment he’s felt in years. If he was a better man, someone less mentally ill, he’d consider pursuing it but honestly he’s a fucking mess. He wouldn’t wish himself on any woman especially you.

“You’re punking out aren’t you?” Richie says from the passenger seat as he watches the world go by outside.

“No.” Carmy says, his grip tightening on the steering wheel. “She just deserves better than an asshole like me.”

Love Carmy? Don’t miss any of his stories by joining the taglist here.

Like My Work? - Why Not Buy Me A Coffee

[nilllaaz]

IF ONLY SHE KNEW

yuta sighed as he cleaned off the granite counters of the cafe; the white rag collecting any sticky residue that was left over from previous orders that might’ve spilled a little from the rush. every free minute he could spare, he was watching the clock tick by slowly, minutes feeling like hours in his head. he was going mentally insane hearing the loud ticks the minute hand would let out, signaling a few more hours he’d have at his crappy job. 

he liked the job because he was working with toge, but it was the same routine over and over again, an agonizing routine of getting up every morning at 7 am, talking to rude customers, clean up, go home, repeat. he’s been working there for coming up on 2 years, and everyday was more boring than the last. lost in his thoughts, he restocked the cups and napkins, the quiet music was helping drown them out at least a little. was the money even worth it, maybe if he’d worked at the local arcade that was across campus he’d at least have a little fun playing the claw machines on his breaks. 

the chime of the door snapped him out from his thoughts, he grabbed the rag before looking over at the door with a gasp. toge; who was on his phone at that moment, was quickly being dragged off to the side as yuta looked down at him. “toge, you gotta take this order. i cannot do it.” you can clearly hear the slight beg in his tone, what was yuta so worried about? 

well, it was you. 

his crush since senior year of high school. out of all days you could’ve seen him, it had to be the day where it was 90º in the cafe, the ac barely working wonders; his hair was slightly sticking to his forehead, and he was covered in stains from cleaning up just a few minutes before you and your friends walked in, his hands started to shake before he ducked behind the counter in attempt to hide himself from you; and thank god you didn’t notice him. 

“dude.. what the fuck are you doing.. get up.” toge whispered to him aggressively, trying not to sound like he was upset at your group. he shook his head nervously. “seriously, get up and take the order yuta.”  toge looked around to see if you guys had walked up to the counter yet.

if it was one thing yuta couldn’t do was talk to you; he’s been trying for years, but whenever he does, his hands start to get clammy and his throat goes dry. he can’t explain what you do to him. maybe it was the way you smelled like tom ford’s lost cherry, or the way you never failed to make his heart flutter when you talked while laughing, he thought your smile was beautiful. 

to him you were ethereal, angelic.  

toge groaned, causing yuta to crawl away quietly, mostly because he could hear toge’s tone drastically change when you came up to the counter; putting on his best customer service voice. “hello! how can i help you guys?” you looked at the menu above his head, a smile forming on your lips. “can i have a vanilla bean latte with cold foam and…” you drawled out shortly before finishing your sentence. “a strawberry shortcake?” 

toge nodded before putting it into the ipad, looking at your friends signaling that he was ready to take their order. after waiting a minute or two, they finished their order. “12.50 please.” he said, focusing on the ipad before finally looking up at you after taking the last bit of your order. you slid your card through the reader and took the receipt he handed you, taking your eyes off the tables before looking back at him again. “thank you so much!” you said with a smile before sitting down at the table with your friends.

“see, not so ba..” he cut himself off to see yuta no longer at his feet, furrowing his eyebrows and grabbed his phone out the pocket of his slightly strawberry stained apron. “this is the last time i fucking work with him if i know his crush is gonna be here.” toge mumbled angrily and texted him.

he shoved his phone back into his pocket, watching as yuta timidly came out from the bathroom. toge pointed towards the machines. “vanilla bean latte and a strawberry shortcake. go get it done.” his eyebrows were furrowed, as yuta looked at him with a slight pout. his face not wavering at yuta’s attempts to get him to do it. finally letting in, yuta got started on the order that toge printed out. “vanilla bean latte.. strawberry shortcake.” yuta mumbled, toge started working on the other orders, but hearing him mumble the orders 50 times was starting to work his nerves. he just rolled his eyes and kept working. 

“ooh ynn..” nobara said with a giggle in her voice. “did you see the cashier?” she fanned herself jokingly as you deadpanned. “i saw him, but i’m not here for a guy.” yuji tilted his head, laying with a scrap straw wrapper he found on the windowsill next to your table. “isn’t that what you said before we went to the amusement park and you met ethan?” “who the fuck is ethan?” megumi asked him before snatching the paper away from him as he muttered ‘aw man’ under his breath. 

“ethan! yaknow, the guy who ran the doomsday ride.” “again, his name was aaron. and he was hot.” you flicked the paper at his forehead, causing the 4 of you to laugh, but the laughter died down quickly when nobara basically snatched you up, shaking you. “yn! look!” she pointed to yuta, who was in his zone; he was chopping up the juiciest strawberries, clearly staining his hands and cutting board that laid on the once clean counter, he very clearly knew what he was doing because not once did a knick or cut show up on his fingers. 

you were basically burning holes into his palms at this point; but for some reason you couldn’t look away. maybe if it was a group of people who didn’t know you as well as them, they’d assume that you’re keeping track of your order, but they weren’t born yesterday. 

you liked watching the way he worked. his hands looked rough and calloused yet soft at the same time; they were so big yet they were delicately cutting up a strawberry into a shape that you normally wouldn’t see on top of a strawberry shortcake. he wanted to make it special to you, but he thought if the heart he was cutting it into was a little too forward. 

“dude, he’s cutting that strawberry into a heart.” “how can you tell gumi?” you looked over at him as he pointed with his pinkie “the top corners are indented, usually; or at least when you make me get them for you, the strawberry isn’t indented like that.” nobara laughed and looked at you “aww, he’s making it just for you.” “ok bitch, i don’t want anymore aarons. summer heartbreaks are the worst.”

“yn, he didn’t even know you.” megumi called you out; the both of you side eyeing each other.

“hey, i just want my croissant.” yuji could feel his stomach eating itself, as he laid his head on the table, with no other choice but to face the front of the store. “it’s coming yuj, give it a second.”

after a few minutes of waiting, you can finally hear your order being called, nobara made you get up to grab the order, but before yuji could offer his help, nobara yanked him down “go get it, he can wait.” you nodded slowly, a bit of confusion on your face. “i was gonna get it anyway…” you walked up to the counter, only to be met with yuta; he looked a lot different up close, his features were covered by his hair from afar, but up close; you could see his dark blue eyes, that were accompanied by deep eyebags. 

his facial piercings were shining slightly due to the sunlight peeking through the cracks of the buildings across the street, and his face was still, almost tired looking. the two of you looked at each other for a second; each second feeling like minutes. “oh um.. sorry, i'm order 329..” you said, smiling nervously, he snapped out of his thoughts, finally realizing how close he would've been to you if the counter hadn’t blocked his way. “yeah sorry.. here you go..” he handed you the food and drinks you ordered with a bright smile on his face. 

the sudden change in his demeanor gave you whiplash, but you returned the smile before taking your stuff, your fingers lingering over his gave him slight goosebumps that he could’ve played off as just being cold. you turned away before walking to your table. 

yuta gasped slightly, almost as a sign to finally take a breath, or else he’d die right then and there. “dude.. are you ok? you’re staring at your hand.” toge mumbled, waving his hand in yuta’s face with an eyebrow raised. “she touched me…” yuta grinned goofily, and toge swore; he could see cartoon hearts floating above yuta’s head. 

“you should get her number before she leaves.” “what?! i can’t do that!” the hearts popped away as he was brought back to the situation at hand. 

he finally got to see you after so long, and he blew his chance. 

“seriously? i can do it if you want.” “no. i wanna do it.” yuta looked at him, eyebrows furrowed as toge raised his hands, also furrowing his brows. “then go ask her. you have like 10 minutes.” 

yuta nodded and stared off in the general direction of your table, hoping you’d come up to him first. “hey uh.. here’s a tip.” you spoke up loud enough for him to hear, slipping him a $5. “the strawberry shortcake was really good. like.. you made it perfectly!” you smiled at him. “oh! it’s no problem, they’re my specialty..” you nodded, but before you can turn away he yelled a little. “oh wait!” he wiped his hands on his dirty apron, not realizing how loud he just was. “sorry, i was wondering if i could get your number..” you laughed, not at him; but at how cute he was when he asked. 

“sure.”

© property of nilllaaz ‘24. please do not repost, copy, modify, or translate.

taglist;

@sunflowertingzzzz, @k0z3me, @mollzaj, @mixzimi, @chiefinvestigatoremma, @evieskibidi, @7nknown

[wayvchip]

cute dates with boyfriend!wayv

kun invites you over to his apartment to cook dinner and have a relaxing wine night. except maybe it wasn't that relaxing since you both turn it into a tipsy masterchef cooking competition. although you are quite intimidated by his cooking skills, you don't let that stop you from trying your best (which wasn't very good). kun, being the nicest guy ever, lets you win. the winner chooses the loser's punishment. you make him wear an embarrassing apron that says "kiss the cook but don't touch the buns" kun complies and prays the pictures you took of him on your phone never end up in yangyang's hands, or else he would never hear the end of it.

ten loves volunteering at the animal shelter, especially a shelter with lots of cats who need extra love and attention. you and ten spend the whole day playing with the cats, feeding them, cleaning out their cages, and brushing their fur. he almost wants to adopt yet another cat or two or three, but you gently remind him this isn't in real life neko atsume so he cannot collect all the cats in the world (unfortunately). ten's eyes soften when he sees you cuddling a senior kitty and he can't help but think to himself he wants to raise many cats with you in the future.

winwin would take you to the beach on a sunny day to enjoy the light breeze and salty air until the sun sets. you notice how he doesn't even try to hide the fact that he is checking you out. winwin compliments you endlessly and gives you one of his jackets to cover up because he hates the thought of other people staring at you. throughout the day, you help each other reapply sunscreen, and you giggle whenever he struggles to squeeze the tube that barely has any sunscreen left, because it sounds exactly like someone after they eat taco bell. during moments he thinks you aren't looking, winwin manages to find a pretty pearly white seashell among the billions of grains of sand and gives it to you.

xiaojun would invite you over to his place and you guys spend the whole time building legos and geeking out over the newest flower and plant lego sets. he starts sweating when your hand accidentally touches his hand while reaching for the same lego piece, even though you guys are literally dating. silly ahh boy. after you both finish building the set in one sitting, xiaojun makes you one of his famous oreo mug cakes, and he makes sure to lightly blow on the spoonful of batter to cool it down before feeding it to you and watching you eat it (he is so whipped for you)

hendery would take you to a hong kong style cafe. it's cozy and cute, and has lots of history behind how the shop came to be what it is today. you have trouble deciding what to order since you are unfamiliar with cantonese food but hendery excitedly explains each dish in detail just for you. once you decide what to get, hendery orders for you in cantonese, which makes you fall in love with him all over again. his eyes light up when you show interest in learning a few canto phrases and he feels his heart melt a little when you repeat after his words and ask if your pronounciation was okay.

yangyang loves going to the arcade section in the amusement park. the bright, colorful lights, silly circus music, and sound effects from the machines makes him feel like he's reliving his childhood again. yangyang tries to show off his claw machine skills because he wants to impress you. he literally tries so hard and finally wins a plushie for you after his like eleventh attempt. while yangyang is rambling on about how the "claw machine was rigged" and how "it wasn't a skill issue" on his part, you give him a quick kiss on the cheek, which makes him shut up immediately and start blushing furiously.

[deathbecomesthem]

Blizzard

Eddie Munson x a Blizzard treat

MINORS DNI - +18 ONLY

For @jo-harrington. This was meant for your birthday, but we know that didn't happen. I love you forever.

Summary: Eddie works at the DQ and gets weird with some ice cream.

CW: Male masturbation, food play, brief discussion of vomit.

--

Eddie is torn between two paths of thought - needing cash in his pocket, therefore needing to go to work - and wondering what is the point of selling ice cream in the winter. The defroster in the van quit working in early spring, and Eddie had done what Eddie does - put it off. Well, now it’s cold again, and he’s wiping off as much of the frost accumulated on his windshield as he can with the crumbled Burger King napkins he found on the floor of the passenger’s seat.

He’s thinking about simply turning around and heading back into the trailer where he can at least crawl under the comforter in his bedroom to keep warm, and then he remembers that he can’t fix the defroster in the van without some form of income. Goddamn Rick for getting pinched again so soon after the last time. Eddie’s more than a little concerned that the next time he gets picked up it’s going to be for longer than the usual 90 days in lock up. How many strikes has it been? Surely more than three. Eventually Magistrate Johnson won’t be able to turn him loose on the good people of Roann County, even if that means facing the wrath of Rick’s favorite second cousin who also happens to be his wife. 

It could be worse, he could be working at the arcade still. It was 4 blissful hours behind the cash register before that red headed kid, Brant?, puked all over Donkey Kong. Eddie had a fleeting thought that he might be able to handle the situation, and then the smell hit him square in the face. He was out the door before Keith could get the mop from the back room, reaching back in to leave his name tag on Pac-Man as an afterthought.

Of course he knows that vomit can happen anywhere, but Eddie is fully prepared to immediately quit any job that requires him to get up close and personal with someone else’s bodily fluids. Technically, it’s a part of his side work to clean the bathrooms at the DQ after close, but technically, no one ever fucking checks, so technically, it’s the problem of whoever opens the next day. It doesn’t matter, this job is just a placeholder. Well, that’s what he tells himself, anyway.

Eddie climbs up into the cab and turns the key. The old girl coughs back, but ultimately turns over. He kisses the ends of his fingers and pats the dash. Good girl. He cranks the defroster while saying a little prayer that maybe it fixed itself overnight. Regardless, he needs that air to keep the windshield from fogging up while he makes his 15 minute commute to the edge of town. It’s a blizzard out there, and the irony isn’t lost on him. Driving in a blizzard to serve blizzards for $3 an hour.

—

“There he is,” Eddie can hear Lynn before he can see her. He’s late again. 

“Sorry,” Eddie calls as he shakes the snow off his jacket. He grabs an apron that’s just clean enough to not give him the heebie jeebies, and heads towards the front of the store. “The roads suck, maybe we should just shut it down for the night…”

Lynn is standing at the cash register, but she’s not alone. A customer is standing in front of her, and not just any customer. It’s you. Eddie slows his steps and lowers his head, as if he could disappear behind the curtain of his curls. 

“Eddie, can you please get your ass over here and take over the register? I need to get home before the babysitter decides to take off. Three days in a row, Munson.” Lynn doesn’t wait for Eddie to acknowledge her words, she’s pushing her way through the kitchen to the back door while he’s still tying his apron strings.

Eddie takes in a breath and looks up to meet your eyes. He’s pleased to see you still looking at the menu above his head so he can scan your face unobserved. You got your hair cut since he last saw you; it’s sitting on your shoulders under your blue knit hat. 

“Can I get a small Oreo blizzard -” you bring your gaze down to the person standing at the cash register and “- Oh, Eddie. I didn’t know you work here.”

It’s a blur, the next 10 minutes. As soon as it’s over, he couldn’t tell you what he said. The only thing he knows is that there’s heat in his cheeks even after he watches your back go through the front door of the store holding the paper cup of ice cream. If you had asked him before this interaction tonight, he would have pegged you as an M&M blizzard person. 

Eddie remembers that you liked M&Ms. You sometimes ate them secretly in Algebra class when Mrs. Harrison wasn’t watching. He would watch you reach into the front pocket of your backpack to get a piece of candy, and place it on the end of your red tongue. Just the memory is making the front of Eddie’s jeans uncomfortably tight. 

He sighs to himself, you’re not a goddamned teenager, Eddie. He’s looking out into the empty parking lot as your red brake lights disappear in the swirling snow. It really is stupid to be selling ice cream in this weather. The dining room is empty. Hell, the roads are empty. And you’re as hard as a rock, Munson.

Logic is out the window now, his erection is running the show while he prepares the ice cream treat. Not Oreo, but M&M. He tries not to consider that the smell of vanilla soft serve is making him even harder as the vibrations of the blizzard machine travel up his arms. He’s not thinking about where this is inevitably going to end.

Eddie locks the doors - front, side, and back - all with the blizzard clutched in his hand. Vanilla ice cream is melting down the palm of his hand. He scans the street again, only to continue to see no signs of life. He sighs in relief that there are no witnesses to what he’s about to do.

He allows himself to have a brief feeling of regret about not cleaning the bathroom thoroughly before pushing the thought out of his mind. It’s not that bad. Not really. Besides, his back is staying firmly against the door. It’s locked. He lets himself envision your open mouth, tongue peeking between lips. With his free hand, he feels the outline of his erection and moans.

Ice cream is dripping on the floor as he unzips his jeans and frees himself. He brings the ice cream to his mouth and his tongue laps at it. He strokes himself. He licks at the cold, sugary treat. He squeezes and bites the lip of the paper cup. Sticky melted ice cream runs down his chin while he runs his thumb over his slit. 

He doesn’t think about it. It’s instinct. His erection shrinks at that initial shock of cold, and then he gets his rhythm. The cup is too small to accommodate his entire length, but Eddie doesn’t even notice. He’s thrusting as hard as he can, his cock threatening to break through the bottom of the paper cup. 

Oh, Eddie! I didn’t know you worked here. You look so good. Eddie’s eyes are closed tight. He sees you with that blue knit hat on your knees in front of him. Mmmm, M&Ms, my favorite. It’s embarrassing how quickly he can come just at the image of your open mouth. Your tongue.

Eddie’s hips thrust into vanilla ice cream with crushed candy bits while his jeans are dropped around his ankles until he unloads his need into the back of that paper cup. He’s left with an M&M and jizz blizzard dripping down his thighs at 7 p.m. on a Tuesday evening in a fairly disgusting DQ bathroom. 

“Fuck it,” Eddie says, pulling up his jeans over his sticky legs. He wipes up most of the ice cream and M&M pieces from the tile floor, it would be wrong to make Lynn clean that up tomorrow. He leaves his apron and name tag on the counter before walking out the back door. 

Maybe Johnny over at the Shell is looking for a clerk.

[nizhspo]

saltwater secrets

chapter sixteen: things you can’t take back

genre: haikyuu fic, slow burn

pairing: tooru oikawa x reader

links: m.list, next

you’ve been dodging him for days.

swapping shifts with tara, lila, matsu, any host or hostess willing to trade. pretending not to notice when his name’s scrawled on the whiteboard. brushing past mentions of him asking when you work next. every time you dodge him, there’s a quiet satisfaction in your chest. a small, stubborn win.

but then— you show up one afternoon, ponytail too loose, apron folded under your arm, and it’s him, already behind the host stand.

you don’t even try to hide the way your face drops. the way your steps stutter.

he blinks. his mouth twitches like he’s already regretting it. “i switched shifts with lila,” he says, voice casual, smile thin. “i asked.”

you just nod. tight. no reply.

you barely talk the whole shift.

just the basics. table numbers. pickup orders. customer complaints. no jokes. no banter. no warmth.

he can tell you’re mad. he doesn’t know why, not really. and you’re not about to tell him.

bokuto picks you up after. the sun’s setting. your phone’s low on battery. you murmur a quiet “bye” without looking at him.

he doesn’t reply.

but you can’t dodge forever.

two days later, you’re scheduled for a full shift. long. busy. no getting out of it. not when you’re low on cash and still car-less.

you clock in. oikawa’s already there. you sigh.

it starts quiet, but then there’s a customer who tries to pay with tokens from the arcade.

oikawa raises an eyebrow. you raise one back.

“what is this, chuck e. cheese?” he mutters.

you snort, and that’s all it takes.

it unravels again.

jokes. soft teasing. little bumps of the shoulder. your hands brush at the register. you both reach for the menus at the same time. it’s too natural, too easy.

he watches you for a second too long. you ignore it.

“i thought you hated me,” he says finally, half-laughing.

you shrug.

“nah,” you say, shaking your head, tone smooth but tight. “i just try not to get too close to guys who collect girls like keychains.”

his smile twitches. just a little.

not surprise. not denial. more like guilt laced with something quieter.

you go back to folding napkins. he watches you for another second longer than he should, and the silence between you is louder than anything either of you said.

after the shift, he offers you a ride home and you hesitate. bite your cheek. think about saying no.

then sigh. “sure.”

you slide into the passenger seat. he drives. slow.

like he’s stalling.

you clock it. don’t say anything.

then he pulls into a curb near the boardwalk. “i’m hungry,” he says with a little shrug.

you blink. “okay?”

“you want something?”

you consider saying no. but… you’re hungry too.

you end up sharing fries under a flickering boardwalk light.

“you still thinking about volleyball?” you ask.

he nods. tosses a fry in the air and catches it in his mouth. “trying to figure out which college won’t kill me and still wants me.”

“good luck.”

“you ever miss it?”

you pause, fry halfway to your mouth.

“…sometimes.”

he glances over.

you keep talking. soft. honest. you tell him about the injury. about how it felt like losing your legs. about how quitting made you feel like quitting on yourself. but you had to. you tell him it still aches when it rains.

he doesn’t say anything, but he listens. really listens.

when the fries are gone, you start to reach for your seatbelt.

he speaks first. “you wanna come over?”

you pause.

he shrugs. “i mean—it’s closer than yours. and the backyard’s nice at night, remember?.”

you chew your lip. start to say no.

but then you look at him, the way his shoulders are curved, soft. hopeful.

“…sure.”

it’s quiet at his place. his backyard’s just like before. string lights swaying. water calm. air thick with spring. you sit in one of the lounge chairs. he brings you a drink: something fizzy and cold. you sip.

he sits next to you, close. knees nearly touching. the conversation drifts. gets quieter.

you say something stupid, he laughs. he says something cocky, you roll your eyes.

then his knee bumps yours. you turn to him, make a face—

and he reaches out, tucks your hair behind your ear.

your breath catches and you both freeze.

he doesn’t lean in, but it’s close, too close. just shy of something dangerous. you clear your throat, pulling back.

“so,” you say, teasing, “do you even do anything besides stand there and look pretty?”

his eyebrows rise. “huh?”

“just wondering,” you shrug, “how it feels to have the personality of a wet sock.”

he lets out a sharp laugh, and when he looks at you, there’s a slow, dangerous kind of smirk. “a wet sock, huh? i’ll show you wet.”

the way he says it: low, amused, almost daring, makes your brain short-circuit for half a second, heat flashing up your spine like he meant it that way. but before you can even react, he grabs you, strong and fast, his arms scooping around your waist.

“oikawa, don’t you dare—”

splash.

you’re underwater. clothes clinging. heart hammering. you kick back up, gasping. eyes wide.

already too late.

his face changes the second you break the surface: he’s staring at you.

your arms. your shoulders. your tail.

you blink and the lights behind him blur. you’re not quite sure if it’s pool water in your eyes or tears— maybe a mixture of both.

“oh shit.” he says.

the water feels cold now, colder than it should.

[crackedpumpkin]

𝐈𝐧𝐟𝐮𝐫𝐢𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐌𝐞𝐥𝐨𝐝𝐢𝐞𝐬 | 𝟎𝟗 |

[ 𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐯𝐢𝐨𝐮𝐬 ] | [ 𝐧𝐞𝐱𝐭 ] | [ 𝐦𝐚𝐢𝐧 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 ]

“I don’t get it.” You cross your arms, glaring at Jay, who looks like he’s seconds away from tearing his hair out.

“What’s so hard about down-up-left, smash-up, then down again two times ?” He jabs a finger in your direction, his tone accusing. His game controller lies abandoned on the carpet, thrown there in his dramatic rage-quit.

“Firstly, how dare you assume I know anything about this game,” you retort, raising a brow. Your own controller dangles limply from your hand as you return his glare with equal intensity. “Secondly, you’re the one who was lacking a teammate. In case you didn’t notice, I was busy trying to kill those aliens you let through.”

Jay groans, dramatically slumping back on the couch like the very fabric of existence has betrayed him.

To be fair, he’d given you little choice but to join him. He’d texted you the second your classes ended, announcing that it was his turn for guard duty. After a week of being chaperoned by Nya and Kai (who at least managed to stay professional about it) you were left with Jay. Fun.

Nya had dropped you off with a laptop full of incomplete Word files and a heap of boredom. It didn’t last long. Jay had instantly yelled for you to join him in the game room, and, well, here you were.

“Hello.” Zane’s voice cuts through the argument as he enters the room wearing a pink apron, carrying a plate of cookies. You seize the distraction, leaving Jay to sulk on the couch as you swipe one from the plate.

“I assume you’re having fun?” Zane asks, though you suspect he already knows the answer.

You smirk, nodding. “He can never know how I kicked your butt last time we played this game,” you whisper, giving Zane a conspiratorial glance.

“Your secret is safe with me,” Zane replies, though there’s a subtle hint of mischief in his tone.

You pat his shoulder, taking another bite of the cookie. “Good man.”

It’s then you notice something off. It’s not the blinking arcade lights in the corner or the disorganized pile of vinyl records waiting for salvation. Neither is it the foosball table that’s been turned on its side or the random origami paper on the ground.

“Where’s everyone else?”

Zane tilts his head, as though mentally ticking off a list. “Sensei Wu gave the students the day off. Nya and Kai are still on patrol. Lloyd is in the strategy room with Pixel, and Cole stepped out to grab some pizza for dinner.” He pauses, glancing at you. “Will you be staying?”

You sigh wistfully, longing for a slice of Hawaiian pizza. “I wish. But I’ve got dinner at home I can’t skip. I’ve already been out with you guys too often this week.”

“For your safety,” Zane reminds gently. “This thief, whoever they are, is still at large and remains a significant threat. However, Lloyd mentioned an update earlier. Perhaps you’d like to join me to hear it?”

Your gaze flicks to Jay, now fully engrossed in setting up a solo game, and then to your laptop perched on the table. “Yeah, alright. Lead the way.”

Zane guides you through a set of doors and into a lift, which hums softly as it descends into the depths of the base. The doors slide open with a hiss, revealing the familiar sight of the strategy room, bathed in the soft glow of monitors.

Pixel is the first to notice you, offering a welcoming smile. Lloyd glances over his shoulder, his brows lifting in surprise. “Hey,” he greets, a slight grin tugging at his lips. “Didn’t expect you down here. How’ve you been?”

“Could always be better,” you reply with a shrug, matching his casual tone. His grin widens, and you can tell he’s already picking up on your vibe.

“Heard there’s an update,” you say, gesturing to the room. “Anything I can do to help?”

Lloyd hesitates for a moment before nodding to Pixel. She presses a button, and in an instant, holographic screens materialise, casting a pale glow over the room.

You try to read the text, but it’s dense. Paragraphs of information fly past faster than your brain can process. Instead, your attention is caught by a sketch of a masked figure, their features obscured, and a blurry CCTV photo beside it.

“That’s the thief,” Lloyd explains, stepping beside you. His tone grows serious as he gestures to the photo. “Unfortunately, this is the clearest image we’ve got. All the cameras surrounding the jewelry store went offline during the heist. Pixel’s still analysing the footage for anomalies, but so far, nothing adds up.”

“Convenient,” you mutter, squinting at the screens. “So they knew how to cover their tracks.”

“Exactly,” Lloyd replies, his expression grim. “Whoever this is, they’re good. Too good.”

“And the Scrolls?” you ask, noticing another screen displaying text about their ancient origins.

“They’re connected,” he says, voice tight. “The thief’s after them for a reason, but we’re still piecing together why. If they get their hands on all of them…”

The weight of his unfinished sentence hangs heavy in the air.

“Well,” you say, crossing your arms and forcing a smirk, “guess it’s a good thing you’ve got a team of ninja and a… very stressed university student on the case.”

Lloyd chuckles lightly, the tension easing just a fraction. “Yeah. Guess it is.”

Pixel steps forward, her mechanical fingers tapping on a keyboard. “We’ve highlighted the thief’s potential next targets. With your permission, Lloyd, I can brief her on the details.”

He nods, and you step closer to the screens, your smirk fading as you take in the gravity of what’s unfolding.

“I believe Cole mentioned this at dinner the other night,” Pixel begins, swiping her hand across one of the holographic screens. The image shifts, revealing three distinct scrolls. Each is wrapped with a different colored string. One red, one blue, one gold, and sealed within ornate tubes etched with intricate patterns.

Pretty.

“These are the only three Scrolls whose locations are known,” Pixel continues. She points to the red scroll first, its intricate casing glowing faintly on the screen. “The Scroll of Fate. This was stolen here in Ninjago the night of the charity auction.” She taps the image, and it zooms in to show an empty display case surrounded by police tape.

Your hand curls into a fist at your side, recalling the way the ground had collapsed in on you with that stupid gauntlet the thief had worn when they punched the floor. 

Her finger moves to the blue scroll. “This is the Scroll of Dreams, located in Cloud Kingdom.” The image shifts to a floating realm wreathed in mist. It looks almost ethereal, your eyes widening in awe. 

Finally, she gestures to the gold scroll. “And this is the Scroll of Destiny, housed in the Temple of Light.” The screen transitions to a simple temple atop a grassy mountain, its white stone walls and red accents glowing under the bright sunlight. 

“Wait.” You hold up a hand, frowning as a memory tugs at the edge of your mind. “Didn’t Cole say there were four?”

Lloyd and Pixel exchange quick, knowing glances. You narrow your eyes, suspicion bubbling up.

“The fourth is… different,” Zane chimes in, stepping forward. His tone is calm, but his words carry a heavy undertone of solemnness. “Its location is a mystery, known only to its guardian, who guards it fiercely. Even its name has been lost to time.”

“Great,” you mutter, crossing your arms. “So it’s like some mythical hide-and-seek. What happens when the thief gets their hands on these three?”

“The first three Scrolls can be combined to form a map,” Zane explains. “A map that reveals the location of the fourth Scroll.”

You frown. Even the very notion sounds complicated. What’d they use? Glow-in-the-dark ink?

“Exactly,” Lloyd says, his jaw tightening. “That’s why we need to figure out the thief’s next move before they can get their hands on the others.”

Pixel nods. “And we must also understand why they are targeting you. Their intentions remain unclear.”

Looking at the ground with a defeated sigh, you kick at an imaginary pebble. Great. Juuuust great.

“Yes,” Lloyd says, his tone sharpening as he turns to face you fully. “Are you sure there’s no one you might suspect? Someone from your past, or even recently, who might have a connection to this?”

“What?!” You gape at him, incredulous. “Dude, I just moved here. I barely know anyone, and my enemies list is at a solid zero. I think. I’m pretty sure.” You pause at his sceptical look. “I’m sure.”

Lloyd exhales sharply, dragging a hand through his hair as his shoulders tense. “I had to ask.” 

“Maybe try asking the thief next time they pop up,” you quip, leaning back against the table. “Pretty sure they’d have more answers than me.”

Lloyd shakes his head, muttering something under his breath. Pixel offers a small smile, attempting to ease the tension.

“Regardless,” she says, her tone soothing, “your safety remains our priority. We will continue to monitor the Scrolls and the thief’s movements.”

“Good to know,” you reply, though the idea of being a walking target gnaws at the edges of your thoughts. Vulnerability isn’t an option, so you shove the unease aside and straighten your back.

Lloyd steps forward, his gaze softening. “We’ll figure this out. I promise.”

You nod, forcing a small smile. Pixel parts her lips, about to say something before another voice pipes up. 

“I got the goods!”

All heads swivel toward the lift. Cole strides in, pizza boxes stacked high in his arms, his grin as wide as ever. He stops short, eyebrows quirking as he takes in the scattered documents and glowing screens. His eyes land on you, and his grin shifts into a wry smile.

“You gonna stay for dinner or what?”

— — — — — 

You did not, in fact, stay for dinner. But right now, you wish you were back at the monastery. Anywhere but here, sitting next to Emily of all people. 

She cheers when the fireworks go off a short distance away, your dad gesturing back as he lights up another one. What was supposed to be a calm, peaceful dinner quickly turned into a kidnapping when he sprung the surprise of a beach hangout instead.

Emily had been caught off guard too, warily glancing in your direction before nodding when he grinned widely. Now, here she was, sitting awkwardly beside you, the two of you making an unspoken agreement to ignore each other as much as possible atop an old Barney the Dinosaur mat he’d somehow found.

“Here.” Her voice snaps you out of your brooding. She holds out a sparkler, its long, unlit stick wavering slightly in her hand. You glare at it, suspicion and annoyance bubbling up. Of course, she’d try to break the awkward silence with a gesture like this.

You don’t move at first, staring at the sparkler like it’s a snake ready to bite. However, your love for the stupid small stick wins out. Huffing out a breath, you snatch it from her hand, your fingers brushing briefly against hers.

Dang it.

“Thanks,” you mutter, though the gratitude is purely for the sparkler, not the person handing it to you.

She nods, looking away. 

A candle flickers a few feet away, stuck in the sand. Your dad had set it up earlier, claiming it was for the sake of convenience before running off to light up the more whimsical fireworks near the coastline.

You shuffle over, careful not to let the grains stick to your jeans, and lean forward to light the sparkler. The tiny flame catches with a hiss, and it comes to life in a shower of glowing embers.

For a moment, you just watch it, letting it dangle limply from your fingers as it sputters and sparks. The light reflects in your eyes, the embers reminding you of a certain someone. But the joy is fleeting. It fizzles out far too soon, leaving only the acrid smell of smoke and a charred stick.

You toss it aside, brushing your hands off. A firework whistles into the sky, bursting into brilliant red and gold. Emily claps beside you, her enthusiasm grating on your nerves.

You glance down at the sand, grimacing at the thought of it clinging to your clothes. With a resigned sigh, you shift closer to her. Anything to avoid the gritty annoyance.

She glances your way, perhaps sensing the movement. Her mouth opens like she’s about to say something, but she seems to think better of it, turning her attention back to the fireworks.

Another one explodes in the sky, showering the night with brilliant light. You tilt your head up, watching it fade. For a second, you close your eyes. It makes it easier to pretend that Emily isn’t there, that it’s your mother instead. 

Then, she hesitates. You can feel her glance, the kind of awkward sideways look that signals incoming small talk. Silently, you pray for the moment to pass before it even begins.

But of course, your prayers aren’t answered. They never are.

“So…” she begins, her voice tentative. “How’s Master Wu’s classes going?”

You tense, not expecting her to bring that up. Your gaze flicks toward her briefly before returning to the waves you can barely make out in the dim candlelight that slowly sweeps onto the shore. “They’re… fine.”

She nods, clearly trying to gauge whether that response is an opening or a dead end. She chooses the former, her tone turning almost casual. “He’s… quite something, isn’t he? You know, I actually met him once. A while back.”

That catches your attention, but only slightly. “Really?”

“Yeah.” She smiles, a little fondly. “At one of my book signings, of all places. He showed up right at the end of the event, stood patiently in line with this serene expression. At first, I thought he was in the wrong place, but nope. He handed me a copy of Heartstrings of Eternity —”

You can’t stop yourself from blinking at her. “Wait. Master Wu… a romance novel?”

She laughs, light and easy. “That was my reaction too. But he was very polite about it, said he appreciated the deeper themes and my perspective on fate.”

You stare at her, trying to picture Master Wu solemnly flipping through pages of a swoony love story. The mental image doesn’t compute, and yet, there’s a weird sort of charm to it. “Huh,” you say finally. “Never pegged him for a romance novel fan.”

Emily grins. “I didn’t either. But he has this way of making you feel like everything he does is somehow deeply intentional, you know?”

You don’t respond immediately, unsure how to navigate the conversation. Reluctantly, you offer, “Yeah. He’s… definitely got that vibe.”

To your horror, Emily continues. “He even gave me this little nugget of wisdom before he left. Something like, ‘The threads of destiny weave through all hearts, even in fiction.’ I’m pretty sure it was his way of telling me he liked my book.”

You hum absentmindedly, shifting slightly as the sand threatens to creep onto your clothes. A firework bursts overhead, painting the sky in gold and blue.

Emily watches the display for a moment before speaking again, her tone softer. “Anyway, I’m glad you’re taking his classes. He doesn’t exactly hand out invitations to just anyone, you know?”

Her words hang in the air, uncomfortably sincere.It would be easy to brush her off, easy to pretend the entire conversation didn’t happen and just not respond. But you’re reminded of the first time you met the rest of the ninja, how quickly you warmed up to their presence despite your whole soulmate situation.

Eventually, you nod. “I appreciate it. The classes are…” you hesitate momentarily, eyes flicking to her before casting them back to the mat beneath you, fingers tracing the outline of Barney the Dinosaur's mocking smile. “They’re good.”

You can hear her sharp inhale and already regret your words. Luckily, you’re saved from more conversation when your dad finally returns to the mat. He’s breathless, his forehead shining with sweat, but his smile remains as he collapses into the small space between Emily and you.

“Seems like my girls are getting along well!”

Emily parts her lips, glancing at you with uncertainty. You shrug your shoulders, offering probably one of the best responses you have given so far.

Your dad doesn’t seem to notice, or maybe he doesn’t care about the awkward tension lingering in the air. With an exaggerated flourish, he pulls a plastic bag out from behind him, the Chen’s Noodle Palace logo emblazoned in bright red on the side.

“Dinner is served!” he announces, holding the bag up like it’s a trophy.

You blink. “Chen’s? Here?”

“Turns out they do takeaway for beach picnics now,” he says, pulling out steaming containers of noodles. “I had to wait forever, but trust me, it’s worth it. Best noodles in Ninjago City!”

You and Emily exchange glances, both skeptical. Your dad opens the first container, releasing a savory, mouthwatering aroma that has you leaning in despite yourself.

Emily perks up, her earlier hesitation forgotten. “That actually smells amazing.”

“I know, right?” Your dad grins, passing you one of the containers and some chopsticks. “Dig in!”

You take a cautious bite, the flavors immediately bursting on your tongue. Sweet, salty, umami…it is surprisingly good. You don’t realize you’ve taken a second bite until you catch him watching you with an annoyingly triumphant smirk.

“Told you,” he says smugly.

Emily is already halfway through her portion, nodding in agreement. “Okay, I have to admit, this is probably the best takeaway I’ve had in months. Guess they really improved ever since the original owner stepped down.”

Your dad beams, clearly basking in the success of his food choice. Just as you’re about to go for another bite, Emily taps her chopsticks against her container lightly, drawing your attention.

“Hey,” she says, holding up a golden-brown piece of tempura prawn. “Wanna try?”

You hesitate, the automatic response on the tip of your tongue. No, thanks. I’m good. But the way she holds it makes you pause.

“Uh…” you trail off, glancing at her offering. Before you can decide, she gently sets the prawn on the edge of your container.

“There,” she says with a small smile. “No pressure.”

You glance at the prawn, then back at her, reluctantly nudging it into the noodles with your chopsticks. “Thanks.”

Your dad watches the exchange, his expression softening. He doesn’t say anything, but the glint of pride in his eyes is impossible to miss. You shift uncomfortably, focusing on the noodles instead.

“Wow,” Emily says after a moment, gesturing at the food with her chopsticks. “I don’t know what’s better, the fireworks or these.”

“Definitely the noodles,” you mumble through another mouthful.

She chuckles softly, and for once in a long while, the air between you feels a little less tense.

— — — — — 

- [ Musketeer ] has changed [ Cake Enthusiast ] to [ Rocky’s Dad ] -

- [ Rocky’s Dad ] has changed [ Musketeer ] to [ anarchy ] -

Rocky’s Dad [ 11:02 PM ]: i always knew id be used for my dragon

anarchy [ 11:11 PM ]: lol what

anarchy [ 11:11 PM ]: lololol what is this name

anarchy [ 11:11 PM ]: do i even wanna know

Rocky’s Dad [ 11:20 PM ]: sry was in the shower

Rocky’s Dad [ 11:20 PM ]: at least make my name shorter

- [ anarchy ] has changed [ Rocky’s Dad ] to [ kole ] -

kole [ 11:24 PM ]: .

anarchy [ 11:24 PM ]: ?

kole [ 11:24 PM ]: anyw i got the short straw for next week

- Incoming Call from [ kole ]-

“Send me your schedule.”

“For free?” You put him on speaker, resuming your essay on the study of Borg Industries. “Don’t tell me you’re enrolling like Nya did. How does she even find the time?”

“You’d be surprised at her multitasking skills,” Cole replies, his voice tinged with amusement. In the background, you catch faint sounds of Jay and Kai bickering. The noise fades, and you suspect he’s left the room. “Anyway, since I’m your bodyguard next week, I figured we’d need a solid cover story.”

You hum, absently tapping the spacebar. “What kind of cover story?”

The line falls quiet. You glance at your phone, narrowing your eyes as if the device itself could pull an answer out of him. “What kind of cover story, Cole?”

After a beat, he says, “I think it’d be easier if we pretended to be a couple.”

Your hands hover above the keyboard. With deliberate care, you set your glasses aside and pinch the bridge of your nose. “...Why?”

“For starters, I’m not about to enroll in a business course I know nothing about. And second, people don’t ask as many questions when it’s soulmate-related. Makes it less complicated.”

You groan.

“Wow,” he says, his voice mockingly wounded. “At least warn me if you’re a hater.”

You highly doubt he’s offended. Secretly, you suspect he’s just as much of a drama queen as the others, maybe worse.

Pausing, you weigh your options. Unfortunately, it does make sense. No one would believe two "friends" willingly spending that much time together unless they were besties or soulmates.

Luckily for you, he falls into the latter.

“Fine,” you relent, “but we’re setting some ground rules.”

“Oh, agreed,” he replies, adding a theatrical shudder. “Rule one: we can never fall for each other.”

That draws a laugh out of you.

“Rule two,” you continue, “hand holding is allowed, but no PDA. I refuse to be that kind of couple.”

“Absolutely. We’ll save the PDA for the privacy of the monastery.”

You can’t help the small smile tugging at your lips as you close your laptop and pick up a pen to fiddle with. “Rule three: you pay for our ‘dates’.”

“Dates? As in plural?” he teases. “Didn’t realize you liked me that much.”

You snort. “Very funny, Brookstone. But you know I have to study to pass. You only had to take a few Zoom classes.”

“Hey, online university is hard when you’re saving civilians half the time.” He clears his throat, his tone softening. “Will you be okay, though? Studying outside, I mean.”

Your chest tightens at the shift in mood. You nod reflexively before realizing he can’t see you. “I’ll be fine. Corner seats in cafes are better anyway. Out of sight, out of mind, right?”

The joke lands flat, and Cole forces out a weak chuckle. “How about we swing by Papa’s? He’s been asking about you.”

“I still don’t get how you managed to charm him into giving you free stuff every time he sees you.”

“What can I say?” His smugness practically oozes through the speaker. “I’m just that amazing. Good-looking too, if I dare say so. And also smart. Can’t forget smart.”

You hum in mock agreement, though part of you begrudgingly acknowledges it. He is rather handsome. Objectively speaking, of course.

“Welp,” he cuts himself off with a yawn. “I’ll see you next week.”

“And hereI thought ninjas never run out of stamina.” You state, picking up the phone. “Goodnight, Cole.”

“Night.”

You hang up.

— — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — 

Taglist: @candyquokka @mossy-mika @em-100-blog @cursedreader @alicesmile1 @alexa24 @raegreenie4 @burdeningbitch @viennasthings @cadencannot @ml3czqo @nanasemo @certified-cole-simp @beescomet @theblindhag @mitbin24 @sweetlittlebumblebree @brooklyniswriting @cantbecreative @something-else3 @iinlovewithfictionalppl @itz-moonlight @jebesovovise @ryeheep @letthelightin2112 @classically-bored @clearlawyereaglewobbler @anajellyc @the-midnight-duck @fru1ty-bage3ls

[i-hug-exploder-shanks]

Destiny 2 Incorrect Quotes: Eido and Mithrax- Mall Edition

Mithrax (peering into a pet store): ...These small creatures look like they would perish if hugged. Eido: They would. Mithrax (whispering): I must resist. Eido (holding up sunglasses): These are called “aviators.” They make people look cool. Mithrax (putting them on over his helmet): Do I now radiate swag, daughter? Eido: ...You radiate something.

Mithrax (in the food court): These fried... dough spirals. What are they? Eido: Cinnamon rolls. Mithrax (eating one whole): I am reborn. Eido: Okay, we each get one treat. One. Mithrax (returning with six bags): I have misunderstood the assignment. Eido: Father, you bought every candle in the shop. Mithrax: This one smells like “dreams.” It is called “marshmallow clouds.” I will never be the same. Eido (picking up a shirt): This says “Slay Queen.” What’s that mean? Mithrax: ...A title of noble conquest? Eido: ...Buying it. Mithrax (staring at escalator): It moves, yet it is a stair. Eido: Do not challenge it, Father. Mithrax (gripping rail nervously): It is unnatural and I do not trust it. Eido: Do you think Zavala would wear this? Mithrax (holding up a bucket hat that says “Commander of the Grill”): It is perfect. He would cry tears of confusion. Mithrax (in a novelty store): This mug says “World’s Okayest Dad.” Should I be insulted? Eido: It’s sarcasm. Humans weaponize it in the name of affection. Mithrax: Then I am flattered and confused. Eido: You can’t wear cargo shorts over your armor. Mithrax (already wearing them): I have so many pockets now. Eido (facepalming): Why did you challenge the arcade claw machine to honorable combat? Mithrax (shaking the machine): It mocked me. I will have the frog plush, or I will have vengeance. Mall Security: Sir, you can’t disassemble the gumball machine. Eido: We’re so sorry. Mithrax (with fistful of gum): IT DID NOT HONOR OUR AGREEMENT. Eido (smirking): You’re enjoying yourself. Mithrax (carrying 12 shopping bags and a boba tea): I am thriving in this strange retail battlefield. Mithrax: Let us bring back a gift for Saint and Osiris. Eido: What about this matching apron set that says “Grill Daddy” and “Grill Husband” Mithrax (already paying): Yes.

[bloomries]

be my valentine!

includes : lucifer, mammon, leviathan, satan, asmodeus, beelzebub, and belphegor.

summary : it's valentine's day, how will you spend it with your beloved?

warnings : gn! reader. food mention. valentines is my absolute faaaavorite holiday i love love and hearts and pink and chocolate~

LUCIFER

Loves the classics~ gets you a giant bouquet of red roses and has made a special, private reservation just for you two.

Today is really just an excuse to spoil you, Lucifer is secretly happy he gets to do so! Even though he claims Valentine's Day is a little silly, he doesn't miss his chance to celebrate it.

Very romantic and sincere and sweet, ugh, he's perfect~

Taking your hand in his, his thumb gently rubs against your wrist as he smiles at you. "Thank you," He says, a softness in his tone that puts you on edge— it's not often he lets down his walls to be so vulnerable. "For staying with me, and putting up with those idiots... I love you."

"I love you, too." And Lucifer certainly wouldn't mind if you leaned across the table to meet him in a sweet kiss.

MAMMON

Stayed up all night to try and make you chocolates but somehow failed— however its very last minute and he can't run out so this is what you're getting!

He's actually super nervous about it, getting bashful as he hands you the chocolates.

"If ya don't like 'em you can just throw 'em out," Mammon says, clearing his throat as he avoids eye contact. Burnt chocolates mixed up in a bag, the molds not holding together well and crumbling but you didn't have the heart to throw them away, so stealing yourself, you grab a chocolate and eat it.

"It's delicious!" You cheer, and although you're clearly lying through your teeth, Mammon appreciates it nonetheless.

"I- I'll get you some real chocolates next time."

LEVIATHAN

Sends you a bunch of those valentine meme cards/posts and a lot of 'this is us' with cuddling cats and such.

Braves the outside world in order to take you out on a date— to the arcade of course, where he wins you a bunch of plushies!

Panics when he realizes he hadn't asked you to be his valentine.

"And then I-" Levi cuts himself off mid sentence as he stares at the mirror backing of the claw machine. Today is Valentines Day, and he's just realized he hadn't asked you to be his valentines yet. Pathetically, he turns to you, eyes glistening a little.

"H- Hey, you'll be my valentine's right?"

You have to hold back a laugh, unless you want him to start balling in the middle of the arcade. Accept his request quickly now so that you two can continue your lovely date.

SATAN

Plans a scavenger hunt from the moment you wake up. It leads you to several locations in the house that hold some sort of present before leading to him in the kitchen, where he's made your favorite breakfast.

He's wearing one of those cheesy 'kiss the cook' aprons, and you happily oblige.

"There you are." You coo, entering the kitchen. He curses under his breath, turning around to greet you with a smile— you solved his riddles much faster than he thought, but this fact also makes him proud.

"I made your favorite." He grins, plating your food and then his. You pick at it, sneaking a bite before it can reach the table. He chuckles, sitting down beside you.

"Eat up, because there's another riddle under your food."

ASMODEUS

Romcom marathon! Asmodeus has already set you out a matching loungewear set (it matches his) and a bowl of popcorn and candy and some drinks.

Cuddling all day and flirting in between movies- Is there any better way to spend the day?

Tuffs of champagne hair tickle your neck and Asmo wiggles about to try and get comfy again. Your fingers grazing against his arm softly and sending goosebumps down his spine. He sent a glance up at you, a smirk forming.

"Are you trying to get something more than a movie out of this, hmm?" He asks, leaning up to meet your lips in a kiss. "Not that I'm complaining..."

"Uh-huh," You lean in to kiss him again, only to tease him by placing a candy in your mouth. "Pay attention, you're going to miss your favorite part."

BEELZEBUB

Almost forgot it was Valentines, and gets flustered when he remembers. He's not the most romantic, but he wants to do something for you.

Decides to make you breakfast in bed, although by the time it gets to you...

"Well, at least you didn't eat my favorite part?" You try to calm him down, taking the food and taking a few bites. Delicious. He sighs, rubbing his arm as he looks at the ground. "I'm not that hungry right now, you want the rest?"

Dejectedly, he takes it and devours it. Then he perks up as he gets an idea.

"How about we go out? That place you wanted to try opened up downtown just last week."

"Sounds perfect."

BELPHEGOR

Teases you for celebrating the cheesy holiday.

Might cave in and get you flowers and a simple box of chocolate, don't mention it, okay?

Is he blushing? Yes, yes he is.

"Oh? I thought the holiday was a waste of money and time, a corny holiday invented by capitalist?" Belphegor rolls his eyes at your words. You sure know how to irk him, don't you? But he loves that about you too.

"Yeah, yeah, if you don't want 'em, I'll just give 'em to Beel."

"Nope, they're mine." You coo as you snatch the bouquet and chocolates. "Thank you, Belphie. I got you a little something too." Well he certainly won't deny a gift from you~

[jjkeremika]

AoT men favorite places with you

description: AoT men’s favorite place to be intimate with you

pairing: Eren, Jean, Connie, Reiner, Porco, Levi, Erwin, Armin, Zeke, Bertolt // x reader

nsfwww

Eren

• prefers public places, not well hidden, like fingering you under the table or having you suck him off behind the racks at restaurants and shops

• risky, likes the thrill of potentially being caught, swears the adrenaline makes you look and sound sexier

• loves sucking on your neck and leaving hickeys, bites your shoulders enough to leave a visible mark for days

• shushes you while he strokes your hair, tells you that you need to be more quiet when you swallow him whole, that you need to bite your lip when he rocks his hips

Jean

• at home, in the kitchen, while prepping for dinner or while baking desserts

• likes lifting you onto the countertop, kissing and fondling you until his preset timers are going off

• always takes his shirt off before putting the apron on, just in case he spills something on it anyway

• smacks you with a spatula or wooden spoon when you walk by, threatens to do it again when you squeal

• watches you lick the batter off your finger with dilated pupils and starts palming his erection through the apron, staring at your lips the whole time

Connie

• well if it wasn’t the arcade, it wasn’t anywhere but home

• hes winning prizes and tickets at every game, smiling and handing you the gifts to keep, smacking your ass and kissing your cheek intermittently

• sometimes asks you to blow on his hands before ski-ball or air-hockey for good luck

• reminds you of that when he asks you to blow on his cock later, behind the pac-man operator, when he’s unzipping his jeans and you’re dropping to your knees

• sometimes will push up against you from behind, pushing your hips into the game as you play, as he teaches you

Reiner

• rents cabins so you two can be conpletely alone because he loves to hear you scream, and doesn’t want a soul to hear or see you (only him)

• likes you on your hands and knees, his hand roughly pulling your hair

• situates you so both of you are facing the wide window, overlooking the natural scenery as his hips slap against yours

• smirks at you in the reflection in the window, blows kisses when you both make eye contact in it

Porco

• could always find him hanging out under the bleachers, and he greets you with open arms and a big kiss each time

• wraps his jacket around you when he takes your shirt off; puts your shirt over his backpack so it doesn’t touch the ground

• holds you so close and so tight, protects your head with his hand if you two get too close to the metal benches

• loves the rattle of the bleachers when you grab onto the metal bars or benches as he fucks into you from behind

Levi

• hates doing it in bathrooms and kitchens

• prefers taking you to expensive hotels with clean sheets and fluffy towels, usually rents a room with two large beds so you can rest and relax on spotless sheets

• cleaning up is his favorite part, lapping up your streams of fluid from your thighs like a parched dog

• loves shoving his cock down your throat when he’s about to orgasm, loves feeling and watching you swallow his cum, enjoying everything more thoroughly with the knowledge that he doesn’t have to dirty a towel

Erwin

• back of the car, like you’re both hormone-crazed teenagers who can’t keep their hands off each other

• has a huge car, so sprawling you out into any position isn’t an obstacle

• always wraps his tie around his wrist, dangling it slightly, and sometimes sharply slaps it against your ass

• plays music through the speakers every time, always drives to the ocean or the lake

• likes the visual of you beneath him, his cock pushed between your breasts

Armin

• likes to be in private, at home BUT the back room at the public library comes quite close

• works there part time, so acquiring the room was easy, and there was something about seeing you amongst unbound books that evoked something inexplicable within him

• loves when you bend over him like an open book, especially when you’re asking him to lick you out while you suck him off

• always reminds you to be quiet when he’s louder than you are

Zeke

• likes to take you to plays and musicals and theaters and operas, “to enjoy the sounds and symphonies of art,” he’d say

• his hand is crawling up your thigh before intermission, tracing the tights pattern up your skirt

• hides the playwright over your lap so those in neighboring seats can’t gawk (but he also kind of likes it when they do)

• rushes you to the bathroom during intermission, hiking up your skirt and ripping a hole in the crotch of your tights

Bertolt

• plays basketball, so meeting him in the locker room after practice is the routine

• explores different positions on the benches and in the showers with you, bending you over it or holding you up

• loves holding your butt cheeks like two globes, moaning every time he compares his hand and dick sizes to the size of your ass

• blushes when he sees you at his games because he knows what will happen later in the locker room, what you’ve both practiced for