#ask-flip-frost

[muppeteyes1001]

📂 📂

Send “📂“ for a random yet completely useless headcanon I have

(📂) 1. Kitt is unable to grow flowers. No matter how much she reads or how many techniques she tries, she just can't seem to do it. Even if she does manage to get flowers for herself, they tend to wither and die after a day or two. She may be skilled when it comes to mechanical repairs, but anything related to botany simply evades her.

(📂) 2. A drink that she enjoys on a cold day is called London Fog. It's simply earl grey tea with steamed milk and vanilla, which gives the tea a cloudy appearance.

[ask-thedepressedkidatthetable]

*Throws all of the 50 Qs into your ask box and twirls away*

50 Q’s For The Mun

1.) describe yourself through the eyes of a stranger? The perpetual foreigner. Or, if they do happen to be from another country, a like-minded friend. (People say I have an accent .  .  . Spoiler, I don’t think I do.) People have said that I look interesting, am quiet, awkward, scary, and that i know a lot. 2.) what is a quality you’d like to change about yourself? I feel like I’m very flighty and have a hard time following through with what I say- if I can at all. I’d like to change that someday. 3.) what is your worst potential fear for the future? I think .  .  . That I’ll be caught between mildly depressing comfort and the chance to actually grasp everything I want in life for a little risk and I’ll make the wrong choice. 4.) which television series do you use as a form of escapism? I use YouTube for that primarily. Um .  .  . Maybe The Addam’s Family. 5.) share a secret about yourself? I think in some ways, I actually live a double-life. So that’s a thing. 6.) if you could choose any place in the world to visit, where would it be? why? Oh, I’d like to go to Germany someday and visit some of the sites associated with Johann Wolfgang von Goethe. He was an interesting person. 7.) what advice would you give your childhood self? Um .  .  . honestly? Be more of a jerk. It more has to do with having a hard time setting boundaries and saying no to things. Or calling people out when they’re acting inappropriately. Not great life advice though? 8.) describe how you envision your ideal life partner? I suppose someone I can connect with on an intellectual and emotional level. Someone understanding and compassionate enough to help me pull through my own problems and a team player when we have joint problems we need to solve in life. 9.) what is your favorite environmental season? why? I like when it snows in winter, but otherwise probably fall xD I do not love being out in the super freezing temperatures with no snow. 10.) what’s one book you’d suggest every person should read? Mathematics for the Million - Lancelot Hogben (That’s the one that talks about how when America reached the trillion dollar debt, that if you lined it all up in twenty dollar bills, it’d basically stretch for sixty miles .  .  . Honesty there’s a lot of books on this list. It’s not just one.) 11.) what is one song that’s able to bring you to tears? 1,000 Light Years Away - Slime Rancher 12.) describe your best friend? Kind, compassionate, smart, doing no harm but taking no shit from people, and just... incredibly driven, even in hard times. 13.) what was the premise of your last dream? Well .  .  . I was at my old job, and for some reason we were running pads (for furniture), but for some reason, instead of pads it was coming out as pants and shirts, long and wide ways. And who do I see but an old coworker / friend? So he was stacking, and it’s supposed to be twenty-one to a bag and they’re coming off three at a time pretty fast. So, since he’s never done that before I was like, out of my way, I’ll handle this. Of course the line starts moving really fast, and with the way it’s coming, you can’t just push it back and throw it in a nice stack. So we’re bagging stuff anyway, just trying to keep it off the floor and he’s like, “Hey, how many is it supposed to be in a bag?” And I told him, “Twenty-one.” “Some of these bags don’t have twenty one in them.” We were doing shit like putting five things in a bag, forty in a bag, whatever! And I just told him like, “I don’t give a shit. We’re sending it anyway.” So quality control is out and we’re both basically like, cool. We’re talking and all, and he mentions that some other coworkers came back and are working in other departments now. One went to maintenance, the other somewhere else, and it kind of swung around to the fact that they were all wearing matching shirts that said, “I’m a thief.” on a nice, tattoo style gothic font on the back and that no one else was getting the joke! I was the only one that brought it up.  .  .  . 14.) what’s your favorite warm beverage? Crappy (very important) black tea with honey and milk. 15.) name one musical album that greatly impacted your life? why? Sandcastle Kingdoms by NateWantsToBattle / It summarizes some of my fears in life and like, pulling through for that one person. Because you don’t see it, but they believe in you, and sometimes that’s enough. 16.) what’s your favorite form of flattery? I enjoy flirting for the sake of it, does that count? Flattery tends to make me uncomfortable, so I’m not sure there’s such a thing as a “favorite.” 17.) what’s your favorite painting? and describe how it makes you feel? It’s a painting I got at the antique store. It’s a moon in a red forest background with silver mixed in. It makes me feel like there’s a sense of adventure and comfort just over there. The forest is in your own backyard. 18.) describe your personal style? Want to be a lot more alt leaning, but currently you’ll catch me in a lot of gray and layers. Kind of a grunge, t-shirt video game nerd, and alt mashup. 19.) what was the last concept that inspired you? @heartxshaped-bruises Casper. 20.) who was your very first artistic inspiration? My very first one? I liked rainbows and architectural drawings. Drew a lot of houses as a kid. 21.) how long have you used tumblr for? how has your style changed over the years? About seven years now. I guess I use the queue a lot more, prioritize life a little more, and tag a lot less on my main blog! xD 22.) what was your first cell phone? Um .  .  . Basically the same model I have now, only it let me use Google Music instead of YouTube music. Android piece of crap. I never wanted a phone. It was thrown at me one day and I couldn’t take it back -_- 23.) what is your favorite fruit flavor? Kind of want to say rambutan right now. 24.) whom would you resurrect from the afterlife? which 3 questions would you ask them? Storyboard artist Harold Michelson .  .  . I’m not sure what three questions I would ask specifically. Probably things like where how he learned to do the stuff, how you learn it, important tools, all that. 25.) if you could choose only one meal to eat for the remainder of your life, which would you choose? Lentils and rice. Because it’s yummy and you can add a lot of stuff with it! 26.) which of the 7 deadly sins do you struggle with the most? and which the least? Wrath and .  .  . I think envy. 27.) your latest obsession? and why? @heartxshaped-bruises Casper. He’s such an interesting character- Tragic, strong, kind with a bit of bite to him. I’m so totally in love! 28.) if you could domesticate any animal as your pet, which would you choose? Sharks. They’re nice. 29.) what’s your least favorite smell? Crack. Had a hard time thinking of it, but it’s crack. Gives me an instant headache that won’t go away for hours. 30.) favorite “mythological” creature? and why? Dragons. Any form of dragons, they’re strong and have good ideals. 31.) name a scene from a movie that makes you cringe? No one specific scene comes to mind, but in general, poor survival skills in movies! It’s like fatal funnels aren’t even a thing! 32.) favorite piece of memorabilia you own? I own the sheep mask from this music video here! :D 33.) your personal favorite oddity about yourself? I can climb like a mountain goat real good! 34.) favorite concert/show you’ve attended? I went to an All Time Low concert in my hometown. Oh my god that thing was a riot! They almost got booed over nice-y small-talk XD 35.) what’s one thing you would tell to the last person who betrayed you? Honestly, I have no idea. There’s more to say, but at the same time, everything that needed to be said was said. 36.) your favorite mantra to live by? I’m not sure I live by it the way I want, but I like, “Don’t tread on me.” 37.) do you have any strange habits? Not sure if it’s really strange, but I always make sure people aren’t following me when I go anywhere. 38.) what’s your favorite white-noise to fall asleep to? Just random YouTube lets-plays. 39.) what is your favorite gemstone? why? This answer is sure to change, but I like tourmaline. 40.) how do you choose to cope when you’re upset? I like being alone in my room. No one to talk to on the phone or on social medias, maybe watch some YouTube or just sit in silence for awhile. 41.) what are you currently trying to accomplish? Trying to center who I am with who I want to be. 42.) what’s your favorite item you’ve purchased secondhand? A Franklin chair! It was half off at an estate sale! 43.) describe your personality is only 3 words? Stubborn, sarcastic, awkward 44.) how is your relationship with your parents? Fine. Maybe a little distant. 45.) an instrument you aspire to learn how to play? The bagpipes! Growing up, there was always this one neighbor that played Amazing Grace at certain times of the year. Sounded pretty good! Never-mind that bagpipes are loud and I live in an apartment.  .  .  . 46.) relate yourself to one movie character? 47.) least favorite music genre? why? Not exactly a singular genre- but pretentious music in general. Pop and Christian music in general come to mind here. I don’t mind the actual music per say, but people act all weird about some of it. 48.) which animal would you be the most terrified to encounter? Probably a bear. 49.) name a public figure you find to be overrated? why? Jim Carrey. God, fuck that man. A: Canadian (not a plus.) B: Everyone goes on and on about how nice he is and it’s just not believable! I don’t care what they say, I think he’s an asshole, and the only things he’s in that’s any good are when he’s playing assholes! 50.) what purpose do you get out of using tumblr? Ideal social media. Instagram is bullshit, more features than Discord, always hated Facebook and Twitter. Tik Tok is just propaganda .  .  . Ugh. Let’s end this here.

[ask-thedepressedkidatthetable]

@ask-flip-frost

[jazzy-art-time]

Frost updated reference as of 3/30/2023

Wow, such a important character for the story Allow me to never discuss him or speak of him ever have a reference update as a sacrifice for literally never mentioning you Frost

[habitual-creatures]

*shuts window, goes out and stands on the porch*

You left without saying what to do… besides convince them… soooo yeah, this is as convinced as they’re gonna get…

A̸n̸d̷h̴o̷w̴c̵o̷n̷v̴i̶n̴c̵e̴d̶-̸ ̵i̶s̵ ̶t̴h̸a̷t̶ ̷e̵x̶a̷c̵t̷l̶y̸?̶

[markiebutterhands]

In Which Markie Sings For His Mom

A fidgeting Markie found himself in front of Flip's enchanted tree home. Biting his lip, he craned his neck back at his companion who, by this time, he considered an older brother, though he'd never admit it.

"I-I don't think I can do this... Can we go back and practice again?"

"Hm? Did you not tell me that this would be the best time? Or would you rather do this on another, non-celebratory day?"

"...Yeah, you're right. I just... well, it's my first time singing, you know?"

"And you are surprisingly good at it. I could not believe you told me you never sang before. I do not mean to... butter you up-" Markie visibly winced. "pun unintended of course, for lack of a better expression, but you could have fooled me if you told me you were a bard-in-training."

"Okay, I guess I'll go... Here goes nothing."

As soon as he finished knocking on the door and the calming visage of Flip came into view, the boy spoke with a quivering voice,

"Happy Mother's Day Mommy, I wanted to surprise you this day with uhh... Well, I figured I've always cooked you delicious desserts so I thought I'd do something different for you! Uhh, Mr. Xalroc told me you love music, and I heard the kids in the neighborhood singing this to their moms, so, well, I hope you like it!"

~Maybe I'll never know the love it takes

To make me a happy home that's warm and safe

And maybe I'll never see how you pray for my every need

And wonder what more you could do for me

But when you walk by my side Read me stories at night

And teach me to trust in God's love

You give me a hug, maybe two

And you say, "I love you"

Then I think you're doing enough

Maybe you wonder if you're teaching me

Every good thing that I can someday be

But all that I know of faith

And of kindness and love and strength

I've learned just by watching you every day

So when you stay by my side

Hear me stories at night

And teach me to trust in God's love

You give me a hug, maybe two

And you say, "I love you"

Then I think you're doing enough~

At the back, Xalroc's eyes were visibly watering, a solemn smile on his face. Speechless, the boy then gave his mother a nervous smile.

“Happy Mother’s Day to you mommy! And the same goes for Aunty-mun too! I got her a maple syrup cake ‘cause I know it’s her birthday, my mun told me!”

@ask-flip-frost

[ask-thedepressedkidatthetable]

@ask-flip-frost

Tea set

[jungwnies]

scaring your f1 boyfriend | requested

୨ৎ : featuring : max verstappen, lewis hamilton, george russell, carlos sainz, charles leclerc, lando norris, oscar piastri ୨ৎ : synopsis : jump-scaring your boyfriend LOL

୨ৎ : genre : humor ୨ৎ : tws : teasing, yelling, fluff, lots of jumpscares, mentions of scary themes ୨ৎ : word count : 3840

୨ masterlist ৎ

ᡣ𐭩 a/n : the max photo above is literally killing me i cant 😭

ʚ・max verstappen

max had just stepped into the shower, letting the hot water rinse away the stress of the day. the bathroom was dimly lit, a soft glow from the streetlight outside filtering through the small frosted window. you, meanwhile, had been sitting on the couch, bored out of your mind, until the perfect idea struck you.

with the stealth of a spy, you crept to the bathroom and flipped the light switch off. the room was immediately plunged into shadow, save for the faint moonlight that spilled through the window. you silently positioned yourself in front of the shower curtain, your heart racing with anticipation.

inside, max paused. "y/n? did the power go out?"

you stayed silent, fighting the urge to laugh.

"y/n?" his voice was louder this time, tinged with confusion. "hello?"

still, you said nothing.

there was a beat of silence, then the water stopped. you heard him shuffling around, probably grabbing a towel.

"did you forget to pay the electric bill or something?" he asked, his dry humor cutting through the quiet. "seriously, what’s going on? you can at least answer me, you know."

you didn’t move a muscle, standing perfectly still, a shadow among shadows.

"y/n, if you’re trying to mess with me, it’s not funny," he said, his voice closer now.

the shower curtain shifted slightly, and then it flew open. for a second, max didn’t register what he was seeing—the faint outline of a figure standing inches away from him, completely silent and unmoving.

"WHAT THE F—" he jumped back, nearly slipping on the wet tiles as he grabbed onto the shower rod for support.

"y/n!" he barked, his voice cracking slightly. "what the hell is wrong with you?!"

you couldn’t hold it in anymore and burst out laughing, clutching your stomach as he stood there, towel in hand, glaring at you with wide eyes.

"oh my god," he muttered, his hand still on his chest as he tried to catch his breath. "i actually thought i was about to get murdered in my own shower. do you know how ridiculous that is?"

"you should’ve seen your face!" you gasped, tears streaming down your cheeks.

he stared at you for a moment, then shook his head. "you’re lucky i didn’t slip and die. imagine explaining that to everyone." his lips twitched, betraying the smallest hint of a smile.

"totally worth it," you managed between giggles.

he groaned, wrapping the towel around himself. "you’re insane, you know that?" he muttered as he walked past you.

"and you’re so easy to scare," you shot back, grinning.

as he left the bathroom, he called over his shoulder, "enjoy your victory, y/n. because next time, i’m getting you."

ʚ・lewis hamilton

lewis had just wrapped up an exhausting day—a full schedule of training, meetings, and, of course, dodging paparazzi. as he entered the dimly lit bedroom, he was humming lightly to himself, his calm demeanor a stark contrast to the chaos you were orchestrating under the bed. you were lying in wait, suppressing giggles as you positioned yourself for the ultimate ankle grab.

he moved around the room with his usual grace, taking his time as he set his phone down on the nightstand and slipped off his jacket. "man, what a day," he muttered to himself, running a hand through his braids. oblivious to the brewing chaos below him, he leaned down to untie his sneakers. you had to bite your lip to keep from laughing—you were so close.

finally, he stood, stretching his arms with a relaxed sigh, and took a casual step toward the bed. now or never, you thought, and as soon as his foot came within reach, you shot your hand out and grabbed his ankle.

"OH SH—!" lewis screamed, leaping so high he looked like he was auditioning for a horror movie. he scrambled backward, nearly tripping over himself as his eyes darted around the room, wide with panic.

"NOPE. NO. NOT TODAY," he shouted, grabbing a pillow off the bed like it was a weapon. "WHO—WHAT IS THAT?!"

you couldn’t hold it in anymore. rolling out from under the bed, you were already crying with laughter, clutching your stomach as you gasped for air.

"y/n?!" he blinked, realization dawning as his terror morphed into sheer disbelief. "nah, nah, nah. are you serious right now?! you’re the demon under the bed?!"

"your face! your scream!" you choked out between fits of laughter. "i didn’t know you had that kind of altitude! do they measure verticals in f1?"

he stood there, hands on his hips, still holding the pillow like a shield. "first of all, don’t test me. i thought i was about to get dragged to hell. second of all, i will sue you for emotional damages."

"oh, come on," you teased, finally sitting up. "you’re a seven-time world champion, but a little ankle grab gets you?"

"don’t even start," he said, his voice shaking with residual laughter as he tried to regain his composure. "i thought i was about to throw hands with a ghost or something!"

"worth it," you grinned, dodging the pillow he threw at you as he finally shook his head, laughing.

ʚ・george russell

it was 3am, and george woke up to what he thought was the faint sound of your voice calling his name. groggy and slightly disoriented, he sat up in bed, glancing over—only to find your side empty.

“y/n?” he called softly, but there was no response.

with a sigh, he swung his legs over the bed and got up, rubbing the back of his neck. the house was eerily quiet, the kind of silence that made every little sound feel amplified.

he stepped out into the dark hallway, the faint moonlight from a nearby window barely illuminating the path ahead. “y/n?” he called again, his voice a bit louder this time.

then he saw them.

at the far end of the hallway stood two small figures wrapped in identical blankets, their faces barely visible in the dim light. they were completely still, their heads slightly tilted to the side in perfect synchronization.

george froze, his breath catching in his throat. “what... the hell?”

he squinted, trying to make sense of what he was seeing. his heart started to pound as one of them took a tiny, almost imperceptible step forward.

“y/n, if this is some kind of joke, it’s not funny,” he said, his voice betraying the fact that he was definitely spooked.

then, in perfect unison, your twin cousins whispered, “come play with us...”

that was it. george practically stumbled backward, his hand slamming into the wall for support. “oh, NO. absolutely NOT.”

he turned on his heel and bolted back toward the bedroom, muttering under his breath, “nope, nope, nope. i didn’t sign up for this. i date you, not some stephen king horror scene.”

you, of course, were hiding just out of sight, trying your hardest not to laugh as you watched the whole thing unfold.

george made it back to the bedroom, his nerves still shot. he sat on the edge of the bed, running a hand through his hair and muttering, “this is why i don’t watch horror movies…”

just as he started to relax, he looked up—and there you were, standing completely still in the doorway, wrapped in your own blanket, your face partially obscured by the shadows.

"oh, for—NOPE!" he yelped, scrambling backward on the bed like a man who had just seen his worst nightmare materialize. "y/n, what the actual—how are you everywhere right now?!"

you couldn’t hold it in anymore and burst out laughing, flipping on the lights as tears streamed down your face. “oh my god, george, you’re too easy!”

his eyes adjusted to the sudden brightness, and that’s when he noticed your cousins peeking into the room behind you, still eerily in sync, still in their matching blankets.

he groaned, rubbing his temples. “y/n, it’s three in the morning. i genuinely thought i was about to get haunted by some creepy twins.”

“but you weren’t,” you teased. “just my cousins. aren’t they great actors?”

the twins gave him a little wave, their innocent smiles betraying none of the chaos they’d just caused. george blinked, staring at them, then at you. “your cousins?! so, you planned all of this?”

“yep,” you said proudly, walking over to sit beside him. “they nailed it, didn’t they?”

“nailed it?” george repeated, still clutching his chest. “y/n, i thought i was about to die. do you have any idea what it’s like to wake up at 3am and see that at the end of a hallway?”

you couldn’t stop laughing as he continued his rant. “honestly, you’re lucky i didn’t faint. or worse—trip and break something.”

“but you didn’t,” you teased, nudging him.

he sighed dramatically, finally flopping back onto the bed. “if this is the kind of chaos i’m signing up for with you, i’m going to need to start sleeping with a nightlight.”

you grinned, leaning over to kiss his cheek. “you love it.”

he groaned but couldn’t help the small laugh that escaped. “remind me to check for tiny people in blankets before leaving bed at 3am from now on.”

ʚ・carlos sainz

it was one of those mornings where carlos was running a little behind, juggling work and trying to get out the door as quickly as possible. he hopped into his car, mind already on the busy day ahead. he tossed his jacket onto the passenger seat, started the engine, and zoomed off toward the office, not noticing that you were quietly hiding in the backseat.

you’d sneaked into the car earlier when he was distracted, hiding behind the seats and waiting for the perfect moment to scare him.

as carlos drove through the city, his thoughts were consumed with meetings, deadlines, and that one email he needed to send. he hummed along to the radio, completely oblivious to the fact that you were crouched behind him, practically holding your breath.

when he finally pulled into the parking lot at his office, he parked the car and got out, walking around to the back to grab his jacket. you could feel the excitement building up. now, it was showtime.

as soon as carlos opened the back door and turned his back to grab his jacket, you slowly sat up and leaned forward. you had just the right angle to pop your head into his line of sight.

“you forgot something,” you whispered, just loud enough for him to hear.

carlos froze. his eyes widened, his whole body went stiff, and before he could even process what was going on, he screamed, his voice high-pitched and panicked.

"¡ME CAGO EN LA P...!" he shouted, his heart racing as his body jerked back. "¡QUÉ COÑO ES ESO?" ("I shit myself!" "What the hell is that?!)

his hands shot up as if he was ready to defend himself, but he just stood there in complete shock, looking at you in the back seat.

after a few seconds of complete silence, he finally found his voice. "y/n, WHAT THE HELL?!"

you were barely holding back your laughter, completely enjoying the chaos you’d caused. “i got you good, huh?”

"cabron!" he cursed, still catching his breath as he tried to steady himself. (jerk!) “why the hell would you do that?!”

you stepped out of the car, still laughing. “i couldn’t resist!”

“seriously, you scared the life out of me,” he said, shaking his head and trying to calm down. he took a deep breath, his voice finally switching back to english. “you know, one of these days, you’re going to be the death of me.”

“you love it,” you teased with a grin.

“yeah, well,” he muttered, rubbing his chest where his heart was still pounding. “next time, you better believe i’m checking the back seat before i even get in the car.”

“oh, i’m counting on it,” you said, still smiling from ear to ear.

ʚ・charles leclerc

charles was live on twitch, fully engrossed in a high-stakes sim racing session. he had his headphones on, occasionally glancing at the chat to answer questions or laugh at their antics. what he didn’t know was that you, his girlfriend, were plotting a masterpiece of chaos behind the scenes.

armed with some impressively dark body paint, you transformed yourself into a shadowy figure, blending almost perfectly into the darkness behind his gaming chair. the setup was perfect—his room was dimly lit, with just the glow of his monitors keeping things visible. you slipped quietly into position behind him, crouched low, and waited.

his chat was quick to notice something off.

chat: "charles there’s someone behind you 😳" "bro wtf is that in the back" "TURN AROUND CHARLES."

but charles just chuckled. "guys, stop trying to scare me. i know y/n isn’t here, she’s downstairs."

you bit your lip to suppress a laugh as the chat erupted with frantic messages. then, it was time to strike. you let out a low, guttural growl, something straight out of a horror movie.

charles froze mid-turn. "uh—what was that?" he muttered, glancing around nervously.

"it’s probably the wind," he said, but his voice wavered.

he finally spun around in his chair, squinting into the shadows. at first, he didn’t see anything—just darkness. but then, he grabbed his phone and turned on the flashlight.

"chat, you’re being ridiculous, there’s no one here—"

and that’s when he saw you.

painted in a deep, almost pitch-black shade, you stared back at him with wide, unblinking eyes. the flashlight beam caught your eerie silhouette, and he let out the most high-pitched scream you’d ever heard.

"MON DIEU!" he shouted, nearly falling out of his chair as his chat went wild with laughter and messages like "💀💀💀" and "i can’t breathe."

you burst out laughing, standing up to reveal the full extent of your paint job. "surprise!"

"y/n, WHAT IS THIS?" he exclaimed, clutching his chest. "i thought you were a ghost! or a demon!"

his chat was absolutely losing it.

"she’s a menace omg." "y/n deserves an oscar for this." "never trusting the dark again."

charles glared at you, though his lips twitched in amusement. "you are unbelievable. i will get you back for this, i promise."

"worth it," you said with a grin, blowing him a kiss.

the clip went viral, and for weeks, his fans teased him about his "ghost girlfriend." meanwhile, you were already planning your next prank.

ʚ・lando norris

lando was sprawled on the couch, his attention fully on the game in front of him. his fingers moved rapidly over the controller, the sound of the game providing a steady backdrop to his intense focus. you had been waiting for the perfect opportunity, and now was your chance.

earlier, you had picked up a realistic fake cockroach, the kind that would easily fool anyone into thinking it was real. with it in hand, you silently crept toward lando as he was deeply engrossed in his game, completely unaware of the chaos about to unfold.

you waited until he leaned forward, his eyes glued to the screen, and then you placed the cockroach right on his lap. you quickly backed away, staying just out of sight, holding your breath, waiting for his reaction.

it didn’t take long.

lando, completely unaware at first, shifted in his seat, and then his eyes widened when he glanced down and saw the cockroach. for a moment, he froze, his brain taking a second to process what was happening. and then, in true lando fashion, his reaction was absolutely priceless.

“what the hell?!” he yelped, jumping off the couch like he’d just been electrocuted. the controller flew from his hands, landing with a loud clunk on the floor. he stepped back, looking down at his lap like the cockroach was some kind of ticking time bomb.

“oh my god!” he shouted, his voice higher than usual as he stumbled backward, his eyes scanning the floor. “y/n!! what the actual hell?!”

you were already standing by the door, biting your lip, trying to keep from bursting out laughing at his reaction.

“i—uh, i just thought you might want to meet a new friend,” you said, grinning as you stepped into the room.

lando’s face had gone from absolute panic to an exaggerated glare. “no! that was not funny. you’re a menace!” he took a deep breath, trying to calm himself down, but his heart was still racing. “i thought i was about to die. i can’t believe you did that to me.”

you were laughing at this point, absolutely loving how freaked out he was. “you’re so dramatic,” you teased, holding up the fake cockroach. “it’s just a toy, lando.”

he stared at you like you were insane. “you know i’m terrified of bugs, and you still thought this was a good idea?” he rubbed his face in exasperation, though there was a slight smile tugging at his lips. “i swear, i’m going to get you back for this.”

“yeah, yeah,” you said, still grinning. “you’re so lucky i didn’t make it real.”

lando shot you a side-eye. “next time, i’m locking the door. and you’re not getting anywhere near me with anything that crawls.”

ʚ・oscar piastri

you had been eyeing that haunted doll on ebay for weeks. the description was too good to pass up: “genuine haunted doll, spiritual energy present, handle with care.” it was perfect for a prank, and you knew oscar would hate it. he was already freaked out by anything remotely supernatural, so you were just dying to get your hands on this doll. when it finally arrived in the mail, you couldn’t wait to start your little game.

of course, oscar had warned you that buying a haunted doll was a terrible idea. “don’t you dare bring that thing into our house,” he had said, his face scrunched in worry. “it’s bad enough that you already watch ghost shows. why do you need an actual haunted doll?”

you grinned mischievously, already planning your moves. “it’ll be fine, oscar. i’m sure it’s just a bunch of fake stories.”

he didn’t look convinced, but as usual, you went ahead with your plan. the night after the doll arrived, you decided it was time to mess with him. you placed the doll in the living room chair, its beady little eyes staring blankly ahead. in the dead of night, you casually walked past, dropping it on the floor, facing a different direction.

by the time oscar woke up the next morning, he was already uneasy. he noticed the doll on the floor in the living room, but he shrugged it off—until it happened again.

the next night, you quietly slipped the doll onto the bed, positioning it so that its lifeless gaze met his when he opened his eyes in the morning. as expected, he jumped back when he saw it, groaning loudly, "y/n, come on! this isn't funny anymore!"

"i swear, oscar, i don’t know how it got there," you said, acting all innocent, trying not to burst out laughing. "maybe you moved it?"

he glared at you. "no, i didn’t. i know you’re messing with me."

but it wasn’t over. you kept sneaking the doll into different spots: the bathroom counter, the kitchen table, the shower. he would get startled each time, becoming more and more agitated. you kept up the act, pretending to be clueless, like the doll was really just showing up on its own.

that night, though, something strange happened.

as you were lying in bed, just drifting off to sleep, you heard something faint. a soft scraping sound. it was so quiet, you thought it was just your imagination. but then, you heard it again—a slight, dragging noise, coming from the living room.

oscar shifted beside you, his eyes wide. "did you hear that?" he whispered.

you stayed still, listening, trying to figure out if it was just the house settling. but then it happened again, louder this time. a small creak of wood. it sounded like… steps.

oscar was now wide awake, heart racing. “please tell me that’s not the doll.” he whispered, voice shaking.

you swallowed hard, your earlier bravado fading. “it couldn’t be.”

both of you slowly got up, creeping into the living room. as you approached, the doll was sitting in the chair again—but its head was turned toward the door. the same direction you and oscar had just come from. you froze, your stomach dropping.

oscar's voice was barely a whisper. “nope. i’m done. this is actually haunted.”

you could barely breathe as you stepped closer, but something felt off. something wasn’t right.

and then, in an instant, the doll’s head jerked to the side. a loud creak echoed through the room as it turned to face both of you fully.

oscar went pale, his voice cracking. “y/n… i think your little prank backfired.”

before you could react, oscar practically bolted for the door, yelling, "i’m not sleeping here tonight! i’ll take my chances with the cold!"

you stood there, dumbfounded, looking between him and the doll. your heart raced as you realized you had been pranking yourself just as much as him.

“uh, yeah,” you muttered to yourself, stepping backward. “maybe we should call it quits on this haunted doll thing.”

but oscar didn’t even hear you. he was already out the door and halfway down the hallway. all you could do was look at the doll, now facing the front door with a strangely satisfied expression.

“looks like you got me back,” you sighed, glancing at the doll’s unblinking eyes.

and for the first time since buying it, you had second thoughts about having it around at all.

you took a deep breath, trying to shake off the dread creeping up your spine. oscar’s panicked face flashed in your mind, and you realized you’d gone way too far.

you looked at the doll, still in the chair, and muttered to yourself, “i think i’m calling someone tomorrow.”

oscar, hearing your voice behind him, turned back toward you from the hallway. “what?”

“i’m calling someone who deals with these haunted… things,” you said, crossing your arms and trying to look confident despite the unease settling in your chest. “someone who knows how to get rid of it without… angering it, or whatever.”

oscar stared at you for a moment before his eyes widened. “you’re seriously going to call someone? now?”

“i don’t think this is a joke anymore, oscar,” you replied, glancing back at the doll. “i’m getting rid of it tomorrow. trust me. i’ll handle it.”

oscar didn’t look convinced, but his relief was palpable. “good,” he muttered. “i’m sleeping at a hotel tonight.”

you watched him disappear down the hall, before turning back to the doll. “guess we’ve both learned our lesson, huh?” you said quietly, the weight of the situation finally hitting you.

tomorrow, you’d be dealing with the haunted doll… but for tonight, you figured it was better to stay far, far away.

© 2024 jungwnies | All rights reserved. Do not repost, plagiarize, or translate

[rafesangelita]

i feel like rafe and sweetheart!readers first kiss comes from reader but rafe deepens it. like she’s teaching him how to make frosting and he’s got some on the corner of his mouth and sweetheart!reader is like “uhm rafe… you have- nvm” and just stand on her tiptoes to kiss it off and he goes nuts sitting her on the counter to finally kiss her the way hes wanted to the whole time.

warnings: fluff, heated kissing, rafe hating his job lol

“make sure you leave the mixer in there long enough.” you were currently teaching rafe how to make your infamous buttercream frosting, and even though he was doing good, he couldn’t stop himself from dipping his finger inside the bowl every five seconds.

“it’s gonna be gone before we could finish!” you laughed, playfully swatting his hand away. “alright, alright.” he backed away, watching as you took over mixing for him. “i really appreciate you, you know..” you had spoken up, meeting his eyes.

“for what?” you stopped what you were doing, leaning against the counter to face him. “for everything. i don’t even have to ask you to do anything for me, you just do it.” you shrugged. rafe nodded, smiling softly. the action drew your attention to his lips, a smudge of frosting smeared on the corner.

you giggled, shaking your head as you pointed at his mouth. “what?” he started wiping his face, your giggles turning into full on laughter as he continued to miss the spot. “where is it?!” just as you were about to reach up, you noticed the frosting on your own fingers.

“just- um, okay..” you tippy toed, bringing your lips to barely brush over his before pulling away. rafe just about died when he saw you lick away the sweet mixture, your eyes sparkling as you looked up at him. “did i overstep?” it was silent for a few moments before you found yourself being manhandled.

his lips were on yours in an instant, both of you melting into each other’s touch. you’d wanted this from him since the day he bought your entire basket of cookies at the country club. you moaned into the kiss as he picked you up, placing you on the counter.

nothing, not even the bowl of frosting next to you two, was sweeter than hearing those pretty sounds leave your lips. rafe wasted no time, slotting himself between your thighs as his hands dug into the skin of your waist. he had never wanted someone this bad.

you weren’t used to being kissed like this, your fingers trailing across his chest as he deepened it, his tongue finding yours. butterflies fluttered in your tummy when you heard rafe groan. “y/n..” he pulled away breathlessly, swallowing thickly at the sight of your already swollen lips.

“don’t stop.” you tugged on his shirt, a smug look forming on his face. as much as he wanted to keep going and flip up that skirt of yours, he pulled away, hard as a rock in his jeans. you noticed immediately, wanting nothing more than to please him in that very moment.

“i don’t want you to think i’m here just to have my way with you.” he cleared his throat, your shoulders falling in defeat when you heard the jingle of his truck keys. “i know that..” you trailed off, stepping closer to him. he took your lips again, this time placing his hand on the small of your back.

your eyes fluttered closed, your dainty palm resting in the curve of his neck. “please don’t leave.” you whispered, his erection pressing against your stomach. rafe pecked you one more time before his phone rang.

“hello? yeah, i-, i’m on the the way already.. yes, i know we have work early. alright. i’ll see you.”

“that was my dad. we have a job in the morning.” he pinched the bridge of his nose, sighing. “when we take that step, i don’t want to be in a rush to get home or leave you before you wake up.” rafe held your face in his hands, tucking a piece of hair behind your ear.

you didn’t want that either. nodding at his words, you hugged him, relishing in the feeling of his arms wrapped around you. “okay.” you hated every second of watching him walk to his truck. “we’ll pick up where we left off, ‘promise sweetheart.” you smiled, giving him a small wave as he drove away.

[muppeteyes1001]

🍻

Send in 🍻 for our muses to go drinking together

Kitt settles herself in the corner of a small tavern called the Three-Eyed Raven. It was a fairly late night and a work night for most, meaning not a lot of patrons up and about.

Taking a sip from a cocktail glass that contained a pale purple tonic called the Aviation, she then briefly places it down onto the counter next to four empty glasses. Turning her attention towards her new drinking buddy.

"Hehe .. Ya know, I don't think I've ever had the pleasure ta talk with an actual fairy before .. Not that I didn't believe in ya or anythin' like that ... I just mean that .... I've chatted with dragons, an' big bugs, an' kings, .... Even had an angel for a companion for a while .... I miss that big pidgeon ...... But, you! .... Nevah thought I'd see ya outside one of my ol' storybooks, yeah"

The felinoid was a tad on the tipsy side for sure. Though was still able to carry on a proper conversation.

[ask-thedepressedkidatthetable]

@ask-flip-frost

I am so normal I am so normal I am so normal. You are amazed and astounded at how normal I am and how easy it is for me to do base human tasks.

[ask-thedepressedkidatthetable]

@ask-flip-frost's comment on (x): I’ve actually been thinking on that lately! What was their relationship when Alex was really young? Not just in front of him, but behind closed doors. Struggles, frustrations, good things/humanizing things as well as bad, etc. Social backgrounds, all that.

"I'm not crazy." She spoke, barely above a hushed whisper. Exhaustion crept into her voice, but sleep was still far away for her, unlike the child sleeping against her chest. Alexander, they'd named one half. The other, Grayson wasn't in their arms. "I know you're not."

"Then why didn't you say anything?" What was wrong with him? Was she alone? Did they have a family or didn't they? She felt like she was choking on every unspoken word as she looked down at Alexander. It wasn't supposed to be like this. It was supposed to be beautiful- more beautiful than this. But it wasn't his fault, was it? How could it be? The child was only a few hours old, lifting his head to look at her and give a gentle cry after birth . . . He was a strong baby. He was also looking for his brother. She knew it. "Damn it! Because we were testing the limits as it was! After everything, they're not getting both!"

"So one was good enough?"

No . . . It wasn't. But he wasn't losing her and Alexander. He couldn't lose her and he knew the looks the nurses and doctor's had been passing between themselves, a silent language easily understood. "We're going to get Grayson-" She flinched, tears sliding down her face again. "We're going to get him back." They said a man could not die if his name was still spoken, but it was too much to hear in the space between them now. Memory would have to do. Minutes, where everything was okay.

They drove home, the three of them holding onto each other through the night and passing day.

I would say tragedy strained all of their relationships. Things changed, and there was never any moving forward. The hospital took Grayson away, pronouncing him dead. Alex's parents never believed that to be true. A search for the truth began, but they had so much to lose, and had already paid dearly. The hope was always to find Grayson and have a family again- a complete family. But as Alex grew up, the reality that he was an only child seemed to take hold. There was too much to say, holes dug in too deep and personal conspiracies they had in mind to explain to him about having a brother, so they never mentioned it.

They just had each other in some ways. With a few notable exceptions, they cut ties with their families after Alex's birth, proven time and time again that they just didn't understand . . . that they would make things worse and work against them at a moment's notice. Alex was too important for that. They were going to keep him safe from others at any cost.

As for social backgrounds, I still have little idea. High enough to justify traveling and an expensive house, but it's not like they're on top of the world.

[clockwayswrites]

Of course, safe house didn’t mean empty house. “What the fuck are you all doing here?” Jason asked as he tossed his keys onto the side table. Tim, Steph, and Cass all looked back at him like they were the very picture of innocence. Ever since that first night, all three of them had decided they were invested in Danny’s well being. “Depends if the hearing aids worked,” Tim said. “Are we celebrating or commiserating?” “Celebrating,” Danny breathed out, all of the hard sounds of the word missing. The trio didn’t seem to mind (they never did) and a cheer went up. Danny started at the noise before he broke out in a grin. “Great, that means we don’t need to change the icing,” Steph said. She pulled the black lid off the sheet cake in the middle of the small table with a flourish. It read ‘happy anniversary’ in that bold blue frosting that was sure to stain everyone’s mouth in seconds. Jason just rubbed at the bridge of his nose. He didn’t say anything though, because Danny was laughing that soft laugh of his as he took in the absurdly off topic cake that they had gotten him. It was weird, but if it made Danny happy then it was good. “Only little slices right now,” Jason said, “otherwise everyone will be hyped on sugar and not eat dinner and I am not dealing with that.” Tim flipped Jason off.

[ekkothroughtime]

staring problem | ekko x reader

Word Count: 2,000 Notes: Not particularly sexual, but MDNI, AFAB!Reader. Body (boob?) worship, tight-fitting clothing (no sizes mentioned), fluff, couch cuddling, the briefest food mention of all time. Ekko might have an oral fixation. The prompt for this warmup was literally just Ekko loving on your boobs, do with that what you will. No description of breast size.

Looking back on it, you absolutely knew what would happen when you squeezed into this tiny little black top.

In your defense, though, you had only been curious if it would even fit, pleasantly surprised to find that the soft material was designed to stretch and hug your frame like a second skin.

And it was just so warm that you couldn't bring yourself to peel it back off, not when the first wisps of winter are already twisting through the air. Niping at your nose, frosting the ground, and squeezing through the cracks in your front door, desperate to terrorize you and your already cold feet.

If anything, it's Ekko's fault for bringing it to you.

Some little thing he found while sorting through the new batch of clothes collected for the Firelights. But for someone so intelligent, he sure looks shocked the moment he looks up and sees you standing in the middle of the base.

You're pretending that you notice the way his eyes go wide, feigning ignorance, as you hang these new decorative lights. Using a hoverboard would have made this easier, wouldn't have had to reach so far overhead, but there's an ulterior motive here. Shamelessly twisting your body. Blissfully unaware of the familiar gaze that drinks in your frame, like a man who has just found a glass of water in the desert.

"Please be careful," Ekko's gloved hand presses into your lower back, and you don't need to look to know that the other is in front of you. Ready to catch you the moment you slip.

But try as he might, he can't keep his attention focused on what you're doing. Distracted by something that isn't your diligent hands, securing the string of lights to the wall.

Even after you've finished with them, and Scar calls Ekko over to come look at the engine they're repairing, you can't help but feel as if you're being stared at.

It's one thing to feel the other Firelights looking you over. With so many newcomers these days, all with varying estimations of how long it's socially acceptable to stare at someone, it's bound to happen, but this is different. The script has flipped.

For once, it's Ekko staring at you.

He thinks he's being subtle about it. Looking over his shoulder every time you walk past, going out of his way to ask you questions that he definitely knows the answer to. He's up on the balcony, head swiveling to keep up with you as you walk around the tree. Just so happens to think there's an issue with his hoverboard, one that requires him to fly past you half a dozen times.

You've got a fairly good idea of what could possibly have him so distracted, but it's only confirmed later in the afternoon when you're all huddled around for a meeting. It's another one of Scar's debates about capacity issues, and this time, it sounds like they're actually making progress on it, but...oh, what the hell. You're not listening.

You can't.

Not when Ekko is sitting eight feet across from you, hands clasped in front of his face, staring dead at your chest without the slightest hint of awareness of what he's doing. As if one quick glance won't reveal that he's more focused on the shape of your breasts than the overwhelming topic of where to put everyone. No bra to alter their shape into something modest, and with the way this shirt hugs every single inch...

You cross your arms, letting the motion squish your boobs into a new position.

Ekko's eyes dart up to your face. Caught red-handed.

"Ekko, you got any ideas?" Scar tilts his head, briefly looking toward you, then back to Ekko. Seems he caught on to what was happening a long time ago.

For once in his life, Ekko doesn't have a single clever suggestion to offer. A crucial mistake that keeps him at the meeting long after it ends; the capacity issue won't solve itself, and ideas don't grow on trees.

You're settled into the patchwork couch when Ekko finally pushes through the door. Face paint smeared across his forehead, some of it mysteriously staining his cheek, as if he's wiped his head with his hand and then rested his face in it. One of these days, he'll figure out how to get the consistency right with these new materials, but until then...

"Did the kids get you with a paintbrush again?" You giggle, aimlessly reaching out for him despite how far away he is.

Every muscle in his body seems to relax at the very sight of you, tension melting away like metal under one of his blowtorches. "I smeared it all over my face again, didn't I?" His voice has already lost its usual confidence, resigned to something much quieter.

Any other day, you would chide him for walking out of his shoes, leaving them scattered across the floor to be tripped over later, but you don't think he even has the energy to carry them over to their designated place by the door. All lazy smiles and half-lidded eyes, collapsing into you the moment he's deemed himself close enough.

"And here I thought I would have an easy day," Ekko grumbles right into your collar, groggy voice vibrating through your bones.

"An easy day for the leader of the Firelights?" You tease, running your hand up the back of his neck, nails tracing against his skin. "Never."

His whine cuts through the air, long and drawn out, as if being reminded of his status is the worst thing he could possibly hear right now.

"I'm sorry," laughing, you press a kiss to his forehead, where you're certain you'll get the least amount of paint on your lips.

All he has the strength to do is groan again, tilting his head until he's fully buried his face into your chest. Maybe if he snuggles close enough, nobody will be able to come ask for another favor that he'll inevitably say yes to.

"I should have never given you this shirt," Ekko still isn't lifting his head. Content to stay here with his face smashed into nondescript fabric for the rest of his life.

"What, you don't think it looks good on me?" Feigning hurt.

"It looks gorgeous on you," it comes out a little too fast. Seems he's been sitting on that thought for a while now. "That's the problem."

"I can tell," you have to momentarily pause with that thought, preoccupied with sorting his hair back into place. "You spent half of the afternoon and the entirety of the meeting staring at my chest. I'm shocked Scar didn't call you out on it."

"Oh, he's never gonna let me live it down," Ekko's tired chuckle is the prettiest thing you've heard all day. You can only imagine what went on the moment you left.

But one can only lie next to one's favorite temptation for so long. It's only a matter of minutes before he begins to wander, using the tip of his nose as a guide, wandering across your chest until he brushes over the soft swell of your breast.

A vague, warm pressure greets you. There and gone in a matter of milliseconds, leaving behind a coolness that wasn't there before.

And he does it again, a little bit slower this time. Easier for you to catch. The swift dart of his tongue, wetting the material of your shirt, and maybe he's misplaced his concepts of shame because there's no trace of it to be found today. Content to mouth over your breast, no real end goal to be found. Doing it just for the hell of it.

"What could you possibly be doing?"

No answer.

You're making no move to stop him. It's comparable to a feather-light massage, diligently working over you, leaving no space unattended to. He'd make this his full-time job if circumstances would allow it.

The left half of your shirt is almost entirely damp, your nipple gradually hardening from the cold, poking through the fabric, only to be greeted with his burning mouth. Tongue flicking over it, the faintest pressure of his teeth sending it off.

But the right side can only be neglected for so long, stealing his attention away from your left. Marking it in much of the same way while his hand rises to cover the wet mess he's made of you, warding off the chill before it can grow uncomfortable.

"How long." Kiss. "Will you." Kiss. "Let me do this for?"

You trace the outline of his jaw with the tips of your fingers, humming. "I haven't thought that far yet."

Forever, or until you can't stand it anymore. Whichever comes first.

Enabling him is the worst thing you can do in this situation. You've only got so much time before the dinner bell rings. Even less to change shirts and scurry across the hideout before everything grows cold, but you just can't bring yourself to deny him...whatever this is.

Even if you did want to, it's so hard to find your voice when he peeks up at you. Gentle brown eyes peering through thick lashes, drinking in your expression as he mouths at your breast, drool spilling off his tongue like you're the best thing he's ever tasted.

His hand appears at the hem of your shirt, pushing it upward. Past your belly and over the stunning swell of your chest, and fuck, those eyes sparkle at the sight that greets him.

That mouth of his wobbles. Opening and closing, visibly searching for words that he doesn't have the capacity to conjure up right now. Doesn't find them until after he's pressed a kiss into the underside of your boob. "Has anyone ever told you that you're breathtaking?"

"You," deadpanning. "Every day since the day I met you."

Ekko looks away from you, suddenly very, very interested in the stitching of the couch. As if he's ever cared about the odd green square that covers up the burn mark one of his inventions left behind.

It's remarkably easy to slip your hand beneath his chin, delicately turning him back to look at you. His eyes are a tad reluctant to meet with yours, still bracing for the impact of you expressing some kind of irritation with him that has never, ever been there.

"And I love every second of it." Whispering. A secret meant solely for the two of you to share.

Oh, he just lights up at the sound of that. "Yeah?"

"Yeah."

He's still just as slow as he was the first time. Diligently kissing at your soft skin, loving on every little inch. Hot, wet tongue tracing shapes and his fingers smearing the saliva left behind. The other hand works carefully at the side he's not playing with yet, massaging loose circles into it. His callouses are just the right amount of friction, enough to create a slight drag that you can't possibly ignore.

"And you don't mind me doin' this?" He shouldn't be talking with his lips half wrapped around your nipple, but ugh, the vibration of his voice...

You're not sure when your hand made its way to the back of his neck, but its there, stroking up and down in a manner that always makes him melt. "I would have told you if it bothered me."

If you had known that something as simple as a new, form-fitting shirt would have ended in this, you would have invested in one sooner. Scratch that, an entire clothing business. Maybe you can find a shirt that'll fit him, too. Give yourself an excuse to kiss and suck on those lovely, bulging biceps that you so often find yourself staring at.

A yawn takes over his handsome face. Contagious. Passing on to you like a bad cold. And just like that, it wanders back to him, running its course through him one, two, three more times until his eyes have watered to the point of tears streaming down his cheeks.

Your thumb swipes out, stroking them away and smearing even more of the paint across his face. Oops. "You still have time for a nap if that's what you need."

"Here?" There's that glint in his eye again. Hopeful.

The bed would be so much more comfortable, but... "I don't see why not."

And as he helps to pull your shirt back down and snuggles down into his favorite spot on your chest, you can't help but get the feeling that you've unintentionally created his new favorite thing to do with you.

...not that you're complaining.

[markiebutterhands]

Markie beamed, his eyes sparkling. "I'm glad you like it!! And I'm sure it will, it's vanilla and maple!" Markie flexed his arms.

"Happy birthday mommy!! Hope you're doing great! Mr. Xalroc taught me how to do this fili-bee stuff, it's cool right?? Also I heard somebody sent you a bunch of crispy fried bees and rum so I didn't put any for this cake, sorry! :P Still I hope you like it!! I love you very much!!!"

@ask-flip-frost

"THAT is a fancy looking cake, kiddo! Thank you for going to so much effort. I'll bet it tastes fantastic~" Flip peeped happily.

[dearsnow]

Can you do the outsiders reacting to you doing the orange peel theory (asking them to do a small task you can do yourself) I love your writing‼️

THE ORANGE PEEL THEORY

- in which you ask the greasers to complete simple, unassuming tasks that you can easily do yourself. (the outsiders x gn!reader, fluff)

a/n - this is so cute omg 😭 the orange peel theory is so trivial but it’s a very neat concept and i love writing things like this. and thank you!!

includes: johnny, ponyboy, dally, sodapop, & darry

“Oh shoot, I dropped my pencil. Could you get it for me, please, JOHNNY?”

Johnny does it without hesitation. He doesn’t question it, even though the pencil is way closer to you than to him, and he has to bend at an awkward angle to pick it up. You could ask him for almost anything and he’d try his best to do it. He lives and breathes to help you.

“Yeah, I got it.”

//

“Hey, PONY, can you flip this page for me? My hands are real tired.”

Ponyboy is a bit confused, considering your hands are resting on the sides of your book already. However, when he thinks about it, you might’ve hurt your hands somehow or maybe you just don’t have the energy to complete a task that is seemingly very simple. In any case, he’ll put his thoughts aside and do it for you.

“Sure. Are you okay, though?”

//

“DALLY, could you peel this orange?”

He snorts and asks if you can’t do it yourself while taking the orange from your hands. He throws it from hand to hand over your head, and when you reach to take it from him, he’ll pull it back and peel it. He’s not bothered by it, but he will take half of the orange for himself as compensation.

“Done. Need help peeling off anything else of yours, now?”

//

“Wait, SODA, would you wipe the frosting off my cheek?”

When you ask this while making a cake with him, Sodapop assumes you’re playing around. He licks it off your cheek instead then bounces away before you can berate him for being gross. He would also do pretty much anything for you in his own way- as long as you don’t get too pissed at him.

“Hah! You can’t get mad, you asked for it.”

//

“DARRY, can you cut my hangnail for me?”

You ask, handing him a pair of nail clippers. He’s confused, astounded, and mildly amused by your proposition. He asks you if you can’t just do it yourself, but halfway through talking to you he changes his mind and gently grabs your hand. He’ll act annoyed, but secretly he enjoys taking care of you in these little ways.

“Can’t you… fine, fine, give me the clippers.”