#i can write i can talk to people and work a register please give me money not brain teasers

[yumeboshi]

hi yume congrats on your follower event, you deserve each one !! <3 can i please order a dragonfruit champagne sundae HEHE 🧚🏻‍♀️

❝ THANK YOU FOR YOUR ORDER、@justblades .ᐟ ⟡ HERE IS YOUR RECEIPT FROM CAFÉ YUME ⟡

𐙚DRAGONFRUIT CHAMPAGNE SUNDAE：sends you right into ‘paradise’!

𐙚 dish desc。．a drunk date gone unexpectedly wrong?

．。𝜗𝜚 labels。smutty, drunk, engaged in Sunday and not yet with blade, im sorry if you were disappointed dhil was not here because of the dragon label (I really can’t write him well lolol i hope I compensated with blade & chicken boy) MINORS DNI

．。𝜗𝜚 ingredients。sunday and blade

#SྀིྀིྀིྀིྀིྀིྀིྀིUNDAY

A FANCY dinner in the Reverie’s most expensive restaurant is nothing but a part of SUNDAY’s “casual date” plan.

he’s a refined man, and a gentleman at that- he knows all the right things to do to swoon you. he knows how to make you flush, he knows just exactly when you expected a kiss from him. and of course, he knows what to say to make you fall over yourself, as if he has the entire script of your dialogue in his hands. things like this are so easy for him to do, and his plans always work out because of how expertly he steers you around.

unfortunately, a possibility he did not foresee was this— a drunk you, wasted and tipsy and giggling at his ‘funny chicken wings—‘ all the while carelessly leaning into him and basically being so difficult. it was difficult for him to restrain the heat that slowly pulses through his entire body when you sloppily say daring things your shy self won’t ever dare say when sober.

“sweetheart, please— we’re in a public area.” he gently tells you at first, trying to recover you back to your original state— although it’s just futile attempts of him trying to make you sit upright and not leaning into his chest because it makes him hot and hard to breathe.

“no we’re noooot, people aren’t around….” you slur, batting your eyes up at him sleepily with an attractive little smile lit up by the dim candles. and lord, he feels tricked. he feels like he’s lost to you for some reason- the way your sleepy gaze and your soft voice pulls on his restraints deceptively gently like a siren’s call- he’s glad the area is dim and people aren’t around, because the head of the oak family not knowing what to do with his evident blush across his face would give away how little control he actually has over himself.

“don’t do that,” he reprimands you. his eyes are blazing with a dark flame that’s far too intense for you to take in-

but your sluggish brain does not register anything- you only giggle and swat his arm that’s warningly on your own. “or else what?” you hiccup with a grin.

lavish silver plates clatter and fall to the ground rhythmically with your loud gasps when sunday’s cock thrusts violently into you once more, a lewd slap echoing across the embarrassingly empty restaurant— chest pressed firmly against your table while you hold onto the smooth sides to barely hang on. “—s-slow down,” you’d plead to him- helplessly dangling to the silky tablecloth, to no avail, since it slips out of your grasps easily when he pounds into you with dangerous speed.

“oh? you seemed keen to tease me earlier. are you already sober, angel?” he slows to talk to you in condescension, but when you try to tell him that the alcohol made you do that— he only picks up the pace, escalating your words into incoherent pleas of release-

“saying such dirty little words in a lovely restaurant. do I have to fuck in some manners into your pretty head?” with another violent thrust and a groan, he drags himself out against your slit to coat it with wet fluids that trickle down your sides to spill all over the table.

yes, he thinks it’s deceptive, the way your pussy struggles to take in his load, the way you mewl and squeal his name for more, drunk and needy— the way your ass moves so lewdly with the rhythm of his thrusts, skin trembling. this is sin, he knows, but you are just too beautiful for him to stop. maybe he will have to feed you more purposeful alcohol when you’re sober again, because fuck, how could you be even more obscenely seductive in this state?

#BྀིྀིྀིྀིྀིྀིྀིྀིLADE

BLADE doesn’t know how to react— because his only recent alcohol experience is when he occasionally joined kafka for wine- and the woman showed no signs of being drunk at all.

but when he sees you- subdued to a giggling tipsy mess, his mind draws a blank. What was he supposed to do? he calls your name out briefly, then realized you were too busy burying yourself in his arms like a cat, smiling dreamily at him while telling him his eyes look so pretty today.

he doesn’t like the way his chest tightens up when you say that. he doesn’t like the way he feels so out of control as if the mara is actually taking him over- guiding his hands to tighten around your waist, possessive touches that make you squeal.

“stop that,” he mutters, indirectly at you and at himself.

“stop what, bladie?” you ask with a playful kiss on his jaw, which visibly tightens. “oh come on, don’t be so uptight. didn’t you plan this date?” you continue to trip over your words and droop all over his arms like pudding so bad that blade had to press your back against him so you won’t tip over.

he did plan the home date, just by Kafka’s constant teasing. she’d told him that wine was the perfect idea, that they would be able to have a “heartfelt one on one conversation.” he thought that part meant you would be able to be coherent but unfortunately no, now you’re drunk and illogical and basically his entire plan to talk to you seriously about engagement just went downhill.

“we have to talk,” he says directly, although his voice comes out so weird, as if it’s being strangled. the weird heat in his body spreads violently when you turn around to face him with a little lovely smile, eyelashes drooping, hands so sneakily fiddling with the hem of his belt.

“what could you possibly want to talk about right n—ngh!”

your sentence goes unfinished, and the next thing you know, your face is pressed flat against the cushion couch. you can’t see anything at all, but you hear hasty movements and a belt clanking to the floor, and suddenly his cold hands are right on you, veiny fingers tracing the outline of your puffy clit before hooking up the strap of fabric with a finger to tear it easily.

when you continue to beg him for an answer, he shuts you up with his thick cock that wedges its way into your gummy walls, stretching you all so suddenly to make you gasp into the pillows.

“b-blade,” you whine, “-s’ too big.”

“ill make it fit,” he says simply, but the primal groan beneath it lets you know he’s not going to stop until he fits it in.

he buries into you at a cruelly fast pace, too lost in his own euphoria to hear you whimper and sob how much it’s hurting. aeons, why is he doing this just now? the way you clench around him draws out a lengthy groan, leaning against the table to calm himself down from such an arousing sight of glistening moisture soaking his cock nicely.

the cold air tickling your ass disperses quickly with his animalistic thrusts that give you burning heat, fucking out your constant whimpers and squeals that you’re going to cum, and he lets you cum, hastily pounding himself in to relieve the bothersome blistering arousal that spurts all over your walls to paint them his.

now he knows that kafka fucking did plan this out, but he’s not angry. in fact, he is almost thankful she set him up, because good lord, he knows he won’t ever be satisfied until your holes are stuffed full with his cum.

[inlovewithpandora]

ੈ✩‧₊˚ — Summers Of Pandora ᝰ Day 2 - One Bed

Artists — Neteyam x fem!Omatikaya!reader

Lyrics — You and Neteyam spend the night together on an overnight hunting trip and while you’re trying to sleep the mighty warrior can’t keep his body under control

Music Advisory — nsfw content (18+), porn w/ little plot, aged!up Neteyam, suggestive/allusions to sex, best friends trope, one bed trope ᝰ this fic does contain aged!up character smut so if you don’t like that type of content please don’t interact and continue scrolling!!

Duration — 767 words

Index — pänutìng - promise • ftang - stop

Words From Artist — This is my first writing smut for Neteyam and it was fun writing it! Always feel free to comment and reblog, I love reading y’all reactions! I hope you enjoy!!

Current Platforms — event m.list・main m.list・event taglist ・prompt list

“Neteyam, move over. You’re all over me.” The agitation in your voice is clear while you try to scoot over, trying to give yourself more space so you can get comfortable and finally get some rest.

“If you haven’t noticed this bed wasn’t created for two people.” He replies with a groan while trying to keep his body from slipping off the edge of the bed.

“Fine, just turn on your side or something. It’ll give us a little more room.” You whisper through a yawn while flipping on your side, turning your back towards him and pulling the woven blanket that you and Neteyam are sharing over your body.

Neteyam has a feeling that this idea isn’t a good one but he wants to keep you happy and doesn’t want to put up a fight since it’s so late and you both are tired from the hunting trip today. “Uhm, okay.” He turns on his side, the side that’s facing your back, the side that gives him the perfect few of your beautiful ass and round hips. While Neteyam tries to focus on anything other than your body he notices you scooting back, making a low hiss fall from his lips. “W-Wait, y/n.” He says hesitantly while shifting his hips back, hoping you stay still.

“Stop poking me Neteyam, it’s too late at night to be playing around.” You wiggle around a little, trying to find the perfect position and get comfortable.

“I’m not, I pänutìng.” He breathes heavily while placing a hand on your hip, trying to calm your movements down. “ftang moving around so much, you’re making it worse.”

“Making what worse?” You ask in a confused tone, not understanding what Neteyam is talking about. Once you turn around to see face Neteyam you see his face all flushed, his normally blue cheeks gaining a purple hue, making you wonder what that could be about. “Neteyam, how many times do I have to ask you to stop-” You place your hand where you feel the poking in your back, wanting to grab whatever hard thing is giving you discomfort, but what you feel against your palm isn’t what you assumed it was going to be. When you realize it’s Neteyam’s hardened cock in your hand your eyes bulge open, not expecting to feel your best friend's length tonight.

At first you don’t know how to react to what’s going on but you can’t help but feel a sense of warmth spread through your core when it registers that you caused Neteyam to become erect. You’ve always had a crush on him but you never knew he felt the same, now you finally have your answer. Since his feelings are clear and you’ve always fantasized about pleasing Neteyam, why not take this opportunity and give him a nice little handjob and help him achieve the sexual release his body is clearly asking for.

“y/n…” He mutters out while looking down at your hand grasping his cock, feeling it throb the more he thinks about you touching him because he’s always wanted this moment to manifest he just didn’t think this is how it would happen. He doesn’t want to seem weird for enjoying this lovely accident that you both stumbled upon but he can’t help it. “M-Maybe we shouldn’t- you shouldn’t do this…”

“Why not? I just want to help out my best friend, it’s the least I can do after causing it.” Your fingers work their magic to untie the strings that hold his loincloth together and once they unravel you lay eyes on his cock, swollen and veiny with droplets of his pre-cum already making an appearance. Your thumb gently swipes over his leaking tip, teasing his slit before moving your hand downward and slowly stroking his cock, already eliciting sweet groans to fall from his lips. “Just relax, Neteyam. I’ll take care of you.” You whisper softly in his ear before gliding your tongue around the shell of his ear and making your way down his neck and to his jaw, covering each inch of skin you touch in kisses.

In a million eclipses the mighty warrior never thought he would see the day where Eywa would grant his wish to share an intimate moment with you but here you are, giving him a handjob and him crumbling in your hands and succumbing to your pleasures. Now he’s thankful that his father made him come on this overnight hunting trip, this is so much better than being alone in his mauri and jerking off to the thought of you.

Fanbase — @eme1hyst @o-kingston @erenjaegerwifee @Kaydoux @biaaaaaaaa1 @hikotaru @thisaintredwine @lexieeeeeeeei @that-gurl25 @Peanut713521 @anemonelovesfiction @32saucy-minx @rae @bigdikzaddy @laylasbunbunny @merlinbtch @morisim @btsiguess-kpop @sussybaka10 @galactict3a @shima @eyrina-avatar @headsincloud9 @buble787635 @normspellmann @em-x0 @sliqeramx @lexasaurs634 @yetanotherattemptatanaccount @myh3artttt @savagemickey03 @neteyamyawne @neteyamsblog @deadgirlrin

— all rights reserved © INLOVEWITHPANDORA 2024. all fanfics belong to me, do not copy, translate, repost nor recommend on tiktok any of the works seen here.

[libingan]

im literally writing this in the middle of an online meeting LMFAO your bitch is in college, yall!!!!!!! and i'll be on this laptop until 8:30PM hahaha..... anw this is abt reader who wants kyle to be rougher in bed so she deliberately riles him up by getting him jealous there is no sex sorry guys

sex with kyle has always been good—better than good, in fact. he’s gentle, considerate, and utterly devoted to making sure you unravel with pleasure under his touch. every time, he focuses on you, putting your needs above his, ensuring you’re satisfied before he even considers his own desires. it’s sweet, thoughtful, and exactly what you’ve always wanted. but sometimes… sometimes, you crave something different.

you can’t help but fantasize about kyle taking what he wants from you, losing control, fucking into you like you’re just a toy for him to use. you want him to be rough and domineering, to show you a side of him you’ve never seen in the bedroom. you’ve tried everything—being bratty, sassing him out, sometimes even deliberately annoying him in hopes of pushing him over the edge. but it never works. he always brushes you off with a patient smile, calm as ever, as if he’s completely immune to your provocations.

that’s when you get the idea to flirt with another man during one of your shopping trips.

the market is bustling with activity, people moving around, chatting, haggling with vendors. kyle had just excused himself to the restroom, leaving you alone to browse. it’s then that you see your opportunity.

a man about your age, maybe a bit older, with a friendly smile and an easygoing manner, starts a conversation with you as you look over a display of fresh produce.

“hey there,” he says, giving you a once-over before focusing on the vegetables in front of you. “you new around here? don’t think i’ve seen you before.”

you smile back, trying to put just enough charm into it. “yeah, just passing through with a friend. figured we’d stop by and pick up a few things.”

he nods, leaning a little closer. “well, you’re in for a treat. this market has the best stuff. need any recommendations?”

you tilt your head, pretending to consider it. “i wouldn’t mind some suggestions. maybe you could help me find something good?”

the man grins, clearly pleased with the attention. “sure thing. name’s mike, by the way.”

you introduce yourself, and the two of you chat for a bit longer. he’s friendly, flirty in a harmless kind of way, but you notice the way he keeps inching closer, his eyes lingering on you. it’s exactly what you were hoping for.

then kyle returns. you spot him out of the corner of your eye, and for a moment, you feel a pang of guilt. but you push it aside, determined to see this through. mike suddenly wraps an arm around your shoulder, pulling you closer in a way that’s casual but undeniably possessive.

kyle’s expression shifts as he watches, his brows furrowing in confusion, then anger when you do nothing to stop the man’s touch. you can see it in the way his jaw tightens, his posture stiffening as he approaches.

“hey, love,” kyle says as he comes up to you both, his voice cool but with an edge to it.

you look up at him with a smile, but before you can introduce him, mike speaks first. “oh, hey there. you must be the friend they mentioned.”

kyle’s eyes flicker with something dark, and you can practically feel the tension radiating off him. “friend?” he echoes, his voice a low rumble.

you nod, trying to keep the situation light. “yeah, this is kyle. we’re just out doing some shopping.”

kyle’s gaze locks onto yours, his eyes narrowing slightly. “right. just shopping.”

there’s a moment of silence, the air between the three of you heavy with unspoken tension. mike, seemingly oblivious, starts talking again, but you barely register his words. all you can focus on is kyle, the way his usually warm eyes have gone cold.

“let’s go,” kyle finally says, cutting mike off mid-sentence. his hand wraps around your wrist, not harshly but with enough force to make it clear he’s done playing along.

you barely manage a goodbye to mike as kyle pulls you away, his grip on your wrist firm as he leads you out of the market and towards home. the silence between you is deafening, and your heart pounds in your chest, but it’s not the thrill of anticipation you’d been hoping for. it’s something else—something almost like fear.

when you finally reach the apartment, kyle lets go of your wrist, taking a step back as he runs a hand over his face. but he says nothing. he doesn’t even look at you, just stands there, his back to you, the silence hanging heavy in the air.

“kyle…” you begin, your voice trembling as you take a step toward him. “say something, please.”

but he doesn’t respond, doesn’t turn around. the stillness is unbearable, his silence so intense it’s like a physical presence in the room. you feel your heart pounding in your chest, your stomach twisting into knots as you wait for him to react in some way—any way.

“kyle,” you try again, desperation creeping into your voice. “please, talk to me.”

still, nothing. he’s like a statue, immobile and eerily silent, his shoulders tense, his fists clenched at his sides. tears prick at your eyes as the guilt and fear overwhelm you. this isn’t how it was supposed to go. you wanted to push him, to see a different side of him, but now… now you just want him to speak, to tell you everything’s going to be okay.

“i’m sorry,” you whisper, your voice breaking as you move closer to him. “i’m so, so sorry.”

finally, kyle turns to face you, his expression unreadable, his eyes dark and troubled. he’s still silent, his gaze piercing as he looks at you, waiting.

you can’t take it anymore. the words tumble out of you in a rush, your voice shaky and filled with regret. “i just wanted to rile you up. i wanted you to be rougher in bed, and i didn’t know how else to tell you. i thought if i pushed you, maybe you’d… i don’t know… take control or something.”

for a long moment, he just stares at you, and you feel yourself crumbling under the weight of his silence. then, finally, he speaks, his voice calm but laced with frustration. “you should’ve told me that. communicated instead of pulling this little stunt.”

his words cut through you, the calmness of his tone almost worse than if he’d yelled at you. there’s no anger, no shouting, just a quiet, controlled disappointment that makes you feel small.

“kyle, i didn’t—” you start, but he cuts you off with a shake of his head.

“you didn’t think,” he finishes for you, his voice still infuriatingly calm. “i get it, i do. but this? what you did? it wasn’t the way to go about it.”

you bite your lip, tears slipping down your cheeks. “i’m so sorry. i didn’t mean for it to go this far. i just didn’t know how to ask for what i wanted.”

he sighs, running a hand through his hair, clearly trying to keep his emotions in check. “you could’ve just asked,” he says softly. “i would’ve listened. i’m willing to try it for you, but not like this. not when you’re trying to push me into something i’m not prepared for.”

you nod, wiping at your eyes, feeling utterly ashamed of yourself. “i know. i was stupid, and i’m so, so sorry.”

kyle steps closer, his hands gentle as he cups your face, wiping away your tears with his thumbs. “we’ll figure this out,” he murmurs, his voice softer now, the tension easing slightly from his frame. “but you have to talk to me. no more games, alright?”

“alright,” you whisper, leaning into his touch, relieved beyond words that he’s still here, still willing to work through this with you.

he presses a kiss to your forehead, his lips lingering there for a moment. “i love you,” he says quietly, and you can hear the exhaustion in his voice, the emotional toll this has taken on him.

“i love you too,” you reply, your voice thick with emotion as you cling to him, vowing to never put him—or yourself—through something like this again.

[hmslusitania]

15 for timkon if you'd like! (“This is a lot, even for you.”)

“Oh boy,” Kon says, hesitating in the entryway to the microcave Tim’s claimed. When Steph and Cass had called him about it, he’d thought they were exaggerating. In Kon’s defence, Tim’s been on more than a few somewhat unhinged murderboard investigations in his life, and the girls’ claim that this is actually, truly, the most unsettling one he’s done, that he’s locked himself in a microcave and they’re not sure he’s been eating — and are absolutely sure he hasn’t been sleeping — had felt melodramatic in the way only Gothamites can get.

In reality, he thinks they might’ve undersold it.

“Uh, hey, buddy, whatcha doin’?” Kon asks, hovering over the piles of office document boxes that — jesus fuck, is that a LexCorp logo?

He finds Tim in the centre of the microcave next to the aforementioned murderboard, and then he kinda wishes he hadn’t. The focal image in the centre of Tim’s web of red yarn and blue yarn and green yarn and something that looks like yellow caution tape that’s been twisted into thread is… Kon.

Tim is hunched in gargoyle posture next to the murderboard, chewing on the wrong end of a pen while he stares at the board with eyes so far past unfocused and surrounded by such dark bags that Kon’s kinda a little surprised Tim hasn’t like… toppled over and passed out.

At the sound of Kon’s voice, Tim spins on the balls of his feet and hurls the pen from between his teeth at him. Kon rebuffs it with his TTK and when the pen clatters to some scattered manila folders on the cave floor, Tim frowns.

“You’re… real?” Tim asks, lifting an eyebrow to inspect him. When he talks, Kon can see the dark spot of ink on his tongue that really can’t be pleasant to taste.

“Please tell me you haven’t been hallucinating,” Kon requests, and immediately regrets it because he’s really not sure he wants the answer to that.

“Um, n—just like the squiggles in the corners of your eyes when you’re sleep dep—why are you here?” Tim asks.

“Well, this is, uh, kind of a lot, even for you?” Kon replies, and hovers closer to the one working electronic in the microcave besides the flickering overhead light: the coffee pot. There’s nothing but tarry sludge at the bottom of the pot which is definitely contributing to the acrid scent of the cave, alongside Tim’s general state of being.

“Oh,” Tim says, looking back at the murderboard and then to Kon again. He seems to finally register that the subject of his investigation is now in his personal space, because his eyes go wide in addition to glassy. “Oh.”

“Any chance you’ll tell me why I’m the subject of this, uh…” Kon trails off, gesturing at the murderboard. Tim doesn’t write his tacked-on notes in any sort of way Kon can read. It’s not actually shorthand, not the official version of it, but probably some hybrid system Tim’s developed on his own. Whether or not it’s legible to other Bats is anyone’s guess.

“Um,” Tim says, and falls off the balls of his feet to land hard on his ass on the desk where he’s been perched. Based on the way he rubs absently at his knees and rolls his ankles around, Kon gets the impression he’d been crouched like that for way too long. “You’ve been, uh, exhibiting some… uncharacteristic behaviours? For about ten months now, give or take.”

Kon blinks. “I have?”

“Yeah, your sense of humour’s shifted, because you keep finding me funnier than other people in our group,” Tim says. He reaches for the pen he’d had in his mouth, like he means to use it as a pointer stick, and remembers at the last second that he’d thrown it at Kon to test his realness. Kon picks it up and offers it to him. Tim thanks him with a distracted, dazed expression, and then points it at the red lines. “And, um, you’ve been agreeing with me more? So, like, I know you haven’t been replaced by Match this time, because that was all about him trying to argue with me and divide our team. Also, you keep looking at me more when you think I’m not looking, I had to run through so many hours of security tapes.”

Tim points to some pretty damning screen grabs of security footage from the Young Justice HQ that kind of make Kon want to die of embarrassment.

It kind of sucks that Tim is so smart that he’s noticed all of this, but has also completely failed to put it together.

“So, what’s your conclusion, detective?” Kon asks.

“I don’t… know,” Tim huffs, and rubs the heel of his hand into one of his eyes like it’s about to give up on him and he needs to fight it into submission. “And I can’t think of what happened ten months ago that would’ve started a change in behaviour or—”

“Can I give you a hint?” Kon asks, swallowing down the nerves it immediately gives him, just to offer.

Tim blinks. “Wait, you’re aware of the change in behaviour?”

“Yeah, Tim,” Kon says, only keeping himself from laughing at the consternation on Tim’s face by the skin of his teeth.

Tim looks between him and the murderboard, a deep frown on his face. “So what happened ten months ago?”

“Well, eleven months ago, you told us you’re bi,” Kon says. He folds his arms across his chest and tucks his hands under his biceps to keep Tim from noticing them shake with nerves. Not that Tim’s really in a state to notice anything at this point. “And it took me about a month to do some soul searching and figure out that I am, too?”

The furrow between Tim’s eyes gets just a little deeper, like he can’t make the math problem add up. “But… if that’s it, then why are you looking at me like…”

He trails off, staring at the board for an excruciating enough length of time that Kon seriously considers just flying away and hoping Tim’s so out of it that he won’t actually remember this conversation.

“Wait, you like me?” Tim asks, face fever-bright when he looks away from the board to stare at Kon instead.

“Only kind of, like, a lot?” Kon replies, balling his hands into fists under his arms.

“Oh,” Tim says, and finally, to Kon’s relief, his face smooths out into a smile. “Cool.”

And, mystery solved, he immediately loses power to all systems, and slumps into a deep sleep. When he starts to topple forward off the desk like a marionette with the strings cut, Kon swoops forward to catch him. There’s probably a bed somewhere in this microcave, but if there is, it’s completely buried by Tim’s boxes of files, and Kon doesn’t want to dig. He cradles Tim in his arms and carries him out of the cave into the uncharacteristically pleasant Gotham evening, and when Tim burrows closer into his chest and murmurs, “like you too,” Kon can only smile.

[frankenstein-ate-my-left-shoe]

@steddiemas Day 7 - Mall and/or Job

pairing: steddie | word count: 1,884 | rated: G

“Munson Residence, wha'd’ya want?” Eddie groans into the receiver.

Whoever this is better be someone super fucking important to have woken him up with their damn ringing. He’s surprised Wayne didn’t wake up too, but it’d be kinda hard to hear the phone over those snores.

“Eddie! Thank god,”

Oh. Steve! Very important, actually.

“Oh, hey Steve, what’s up?”

“Eddie, can you do me a huge favor?”

“Yeah, of course, what’s wrong?” he immediately spirals into what all could have gone wrong, what could be going wrong. Everything dark blue and cold, vine-y and the flashing of red lightning—

“Nothing, nothing–well, something.. Can you please run to my place later today and grab my lunch? I forgot it this morning and I know I’m not going to be able to run back and get it and get back in time to eat it before my break is over.”

“Your lunch?” “Yeah, I packed one this morning but left it on the counter. There’s a key under the mat and everything.” Eddie barks out a laugh, “Tryin’ to get robbed, big guy?”

“I don’t care about any of the shit in that house.” Steve scoffs. He shrugs even though Steve can’t see him. “Fair enough. Sure Stevie, I’ll bring your lunch; when do you want me there?” “Dude, you’re the best; My lunch break is right at noon, can you be here just before then?”

“Got it. Five to noon at Family Video.” he drawls out as if he’s writing the information down.

“Uh, actually…not Family Video..”

A short two hours later, Eddie finds himself among a throng of people inside Melvald’s. He has to fight his way forward at first, but the crowd thins out as he gets closer to the registers.

Damn, he’s not even that far into the store and he feels like he’s ran a mile.

“Ms. Byers!”

“Oh! Hello Eddie, what brings you here?” “Steve called and asked if I could drop off his lunch to him. Do you know where he is? I didn’t even know he was working here.”

Joyce just grins at him. It’s weirdly mischievous. “Only temporarily, he’s near the back of the store. Just head back there and I’m sure you’ll find him.”

“Uh..thanks. See ya later Ms. B.”

He wanders toward the back of the store through the aisles, but stops up short when a fake white picket fence blocks his path.

The whole back corner of the store has been covered in fake felt snow, a couple of those fake plastic trees like Steve’s (though these are a normal size), a candy-striped ‘North Pole’, and dozens of paper snowflakes hang from the ceiling between what seems like hundreds of string lights.

And there, sitting in the middle of it on a throne that looks suspiciously like the one he used to use during Hellfire, is Steve. Dressed in a Santa suit. With long white beard, big ol’ belt and buckle, shiny black boots..

“Psst!”

He’s got something stuffed into his Santa jacket to give him the right shape, and even some small half-moon glasses, but those sparkling eyes, the freckles, that one swoop of brown hair stubbornly sticking out from under the fuzzy brim of his hat, that’s all Steve.

“Eddie!”

Santa Steve is fully enraptured by whatever story the kid on his knee is telling him, their hands waving every which way but somehow missing smacking Santa right in the face. Steve just continues to nod along, then gives them a hearty “Ho Ho Ho!” when they try to squeeze their tiny arms around his fake belly.

“Eddie!!”

He glances over at the sound of his name, and sees Robin waving frantically at him from her spot at old school music stand-turned-podium. She’s got on some sort of outfit that honestly looks like it was supposed to be a jester costume, where’d she even get that from?

His feet start toward her, but his eyes fall back on Steve Claus, now posing for a picture with the kid who’s smiling so wide it looks like his face will split in half.

Managing to take his eyes off Steve for a moment, he sees Jonathan behind the camera, and that Argyle kid is crouched in front of Robin, talking to the next kid in line to see Santa. All three of them are wearing matching jester costumes.

Eddie steps up to her podium after Argyle and the new kid pass in front of him to see Steve, “Family Video not paying enough, Birdie?”

She rolls her eyes, “Well, the extra cash doesn’t hurt. Joyce asked us to help out.”

He nods at her, and finds his eyes drifting back to Santa Steve.

This kid is much more shy than the last one, tilting her head down and taking short glances up at Steve’s face.

Steve is saying something to her, a low comforting sound that Eddie can only make out the tone of. His one hand covers the entirety of her upper back, and his thumb is moving up and down to try and soothe her nerves. His head is ducked down to be more level with her, looking at her over those half-moon glasses.

Suddenly, the girl’s head snaps up and Steve leans back a bit. “Yeah?” he hears him say.

The girl grins, nodding her head like crazy, then she too is squeezing Steve into a hug. It’s so unfairly endearing, he can actually feel his heart swelling in his chest.

Robin speaks up then, “So..?”

“So?” he repeats dumbly.

“So wha’d’ya think, Munson?” 

“Does he need a Mr. Claus?”

He regrets the words as soon as they’re out of his mouth.

“Uh, wait, I mean Mrs.–Do you have— is someone going to—”

Eddie chances a look over at her…she’s wearing a smug, shit-eating grin. She leans toward him conspiratorially and mumbles out “I wouldn’t mind a Mrs. Claus myself.”

She leans back, still looking smug, but there’s a note of panic in her eyes.

He lets out a breath he didn’t know he was holding. “So would he.” he mumbles out himself, jerking his chin towards Steve.

Robin only shrugs “You never know.”

“You never—what do you know, Buckley?” he asks, stepping closer and pointing an accusing finger into her still smug face.

“I know that there’s some mistletoe hanging above the breakroom door.”

He’s confused for just a moment, then understanding floods through him, “You little—”

A short whistle interrupts his incoming tirade, and Eddie can see Steve Claus moving out of the corner of his eye.

“Sorry folks, it’s time for Santa’s Cookie break!” Robin calls out over the long line of people. “He’ll be back in 30 minutes though, don’t you worry!” the smile falls off her face as soon as she turns her back to them.

Eddie follows her, Jonathan, and Argyle toward the back rooms, “I’m gonna take a nap.” She says, “Tell Santa to grab me before he goes back.” She waves toward a door as she passes it and from the sprig of greenery hanging above it, this must be the breakroom. 

Robin takes a right down a turn in the hall, and Jon and Argyle push out the back door of the building.

He expects more of the same when he opens the door to the breakroom, for Steve to huff and grouse about the kids or the parents or something, but when he does, Steve is grinning ear to ear as he combs through his (now removed) fake beard.

“Hey Santa Stevie.”

“Eds!”

“I’ve got your lunch.” he holds up the brown paper bag for Steve to see. Steve nods, and lays the beard out on an empty chair, taking off his hat and glasses too and setting them both on top before stepping forward to grab the bag. “And you have hat hair.” Eddie laughs.

Steve’s free hand jumps to his head and scruffs up the long hairs, making them stick up every which way instead of just being plastered down on his forehead.

“Better?”

“Sure, big guy.” Eddie pokes Steve’s fake belly.

Steve chuckles, then heads to a table in the corner where he dumps out his lunch bag.

“So what’d Past Steve pack for Future Steve?” Eddie asks, plopping down in a chair kitty-corner from Steve’s. “Bologna and mustard sandwich, Doritos, and half of a leftover Hellfire cookie.”

“And a Coke,” Eddie says, taking a can out of his jacket pocket, “I grabbed one for you from your fridge.”

“Thanks, Eddie.” Steve smiles warmly at him. “You want some?”

“No way dude, you gotta get your energy back after dealing with all those kids, right?” Eddie says, waving him off. 

“Eh, some of them are little assholes, but most of them are really well behaved.” he’s ripping his sandwich in half, “Gotta impress Santa, right?”

He offers him one half, and Eddie takes it.

“It’s really not a bad gig, though the beard is itchy as hell…”

Steve starts talking about some of the kids who have come by in the last couple days of them doing this, having started on that past Monday, the 1st.

There were the kids asking for baseball bats, Lincoln Logs, Malibu Barbie, Rockstar Barbie (“Barbie’s a rockstar now?”, “Barbie can be anything, I guess.”), all the usual things.

Then there were kids that asked for actual Santa stuff, “I don’t want my mom and dad to get a divorce.”, “I wish I had some friends.”, “I want my grandpa to get better.”

“Makes me wish I actually was Santa, y’know? Then maybe I could actually help them.”

Eddie’s heart is definitely getting way too fuckin’ big for his chest.

He puts his hand on Steve’s forearm where it’s resting on the table between them. “You are a good man, Steve Harrington.”

Steve’s face flushes nearly as red as his suit. “Thanks, Eddie.” he glances above Eddie’s head then, “I better go wake up Robin, if she naps too long on top of the potatoes, she gets cranky.”

Eddie snorts out a laugh, “Yeah, better get on that.”

Steve stands up and tugs on his hat, not bothering to put on the beard and glasses yet. The fuzzy white band smushes a lock of his hair onto his forehead. 

“Hold on,” Eddie stands as well, reaching forward to tuck the hair under the bottom of Steve’s hat. “Now you’ll be ready to see your adoring public.”

“Thanks,” Steve laughs, walking with him toward the door.

And of course, Eddie forgot all about the damn mistletoe until Steve’s arm stops him in the doorway.

‘Jesus H. Christ…’

He glances over at Steve, then up at the offending plant.. 

Eddie looks back down, out toward the rest of the store where they’d be clearly visible in the doorway.

“I guess you owe me one, huh big boy?” Eddie chuckles, ‘Stupid plant, stupid Robin, stupid Ed–’

His thoughts are cut off when Steve tugs him back into the breakroom, moves him against the wall, and leans down to press a kiss to his cheek. The opposite to the kiss he’d given Steve three weeks ago.

Steve leans back, a smirk on his lips and a pink flush on his face. “Now we’re even.” he winks, then turns out the door to wake up Robin.

i may have actually kicked my feet and giggled about this one lmao

also, rockstar barbie mentioned here is from the 1986 Barbie and The Rockers set

also, also, i'm getting rid of the 'pre' before the steddie up top, you all know what's happening and where this is going lol - it's steddie.

other parts! Pt. 1 (Day 1) | Pt. 2 (Day 2) | Pt. 3 (Day 5) | Pt. 4 (Day 6) | Pt. 5 (Day 7) [YOU ARE HERE] | Pt. 6 (Day 11) | Pt. 7 (Day 13) | Pt. 8 (Day 18) | Pt. 9 (Day 21) | Pt. 10 (Day 25) also on AO3! this year

[luvstarss]

can I have a request with jj maybank x shy! reader where you work at the beach in a bar or something like that and stares at him all the time bc you're afraid to ask him out and he gives a typical jj answer for stalking him and you're upset & avoiding him. until kie tells JJ he's wrong it's just you're in awe? Fluff ending please 🥺

You can write it like you want, just an idea! Love it anyway

Oblivious

JJxReader

Warnings:Alchohol.Talk about sex I guess?

I'm working behind the counter as I watch JJ pick out some surf gear "You're staring"my co-worker Leah chimes in "Hm what?"I say as I snap out of my train of thought. She just laughs and continues to stock shelves.

JJ had been coming into the store almost every day for the last few weeks buying random shit like surf wax or a new shark necklace. He comes up to the counter "Just them please" he says as he looks at me with a smile "You've been coming here a lot recently"I giggle with a smile "Surf season coming up good waves and shit I gotta prepare" he replies with a cheesy grin.

I round up his items "fifteen dollars fifty"I say as I open the register "fuck I've only got 10 hold em' for me ?I'll come back to pay for the rest" he replies as he looks through his pockets embarrassment painted on his face."you're good"I say with a small smile "what?"he says looking up “don't worry about it take it as my discount"I say "oh-Thankyou so much"he says  with a warm smile as I give him his stuff and he leaves the surf shop.

Timeskip

“You sure I look okay Ames?”I say in an unsure tone to my best friend Amy as I look in the mirror pulling my dress down and doing what I can to make myself feel more comfortable in the short skin tight material “bitch you look so fucking good” she says as she stares back at me through the reflecting in the mirror.

“don’t worry JJ will love it” she adds with a teasing grin. I give her an unimpressed look through the mirror “I fucking hate the fact I like him” I reply as I brush out the curls in my hair “Can’t help true love” she says with the same teasing grin still painted on her face.

Me and Amy finish up getting ready and head to the boneyard. As we walk onto the sand the sweet smell of alcohol and weed fills my senses. We go over to the keg and fill up our cups. As I look around grasping my surroundings I lock eyes with a familiar blonde boy standing with his usual group of friends wearing his signature grey cargo shorts and black tank top. I immediately look away and turn back to Amy.

“are u even listening?”she scoffs “I-yeah”I reply my tone sounding a lot more unsure than I intended “girl go over there”she grins as she follows my gaze to JJ “No way shut up”I respond with an eye roll.

Somehow throughout the night me and Amy had migrated around the bomb fire with JJ and his group of friends just laughing and talking to each other the alcohol taking slight effect slowly but surely. Me and Jj keep catching each other’s eyes but I ignore it and keep talking to other people surrounding us.

“JJ you just can never admit you’re in the wrong dumbass” Kiara giggles as she sips her drink. “No, she practically tried to fuck me on the fucking sand!”He defends “I mean I wouldn’t have said no to a hot kook” he adds with his signature toothy grin. I feel my cheeks rush in slight jealousy. Amy gives me a look. “JJ you need to get over her” John B. chimes in “Her dad's like a rich kook who owns the whole entire neighbourhood “John b adds deflating JJ's ego.

I get up and go back over to the keg to fill up my cup. Amy jogs over to me “You okay?” she says scanning my face for a signal of how I feel “What? oh yeah, all good” I reply with a small smile “He’s being an ass don’t worry” She says referring to jj talking about that girl “Amy me and JJ have had like two conversations I have no right at all to be jealous and shit “I reply as I run my hand through my hair “so your jealous?” she clocks with a smirk “bitch shut up” I scoff with a grin as we go back over to the group.JJ shouts my name “Hm?”I respond confused as I look at the blonde .

He looks at Kiara then back at me “Your a kook if you were my girl-“He begins clearly trying to prove another point to John B or some shit before he can finish Kiara hits him in the arm “what did I do!”he responds in a defensive tone. I laugh it off as I sip my drink.

Me and Amy end up wondering off from the group I see Kiara talking to JJ.

“JJ she obviously fucking likes you!”Kiara says as she hits JJ arm “Stop fucking hitting me!and no she doesn’t!”he says defending himself“you’re so oblivious”Kiara sighs “You don’t see it because your a guy”she adds “I-cam does not like me your just being weird”he scoffs “fucking talk to her JJ”Kiara adds as she goes off to talk to John B.

Im just stood with Amy as we talk and sip on our drink when I see the blonde slightly stumble over to us “Cam can I talk to you?”JJ speaks as he look between me and Amy . Me and Amy just give each other a look “I-um sure”I reply confused . Amy nods as she walks away back over to the bombfire. “What’s up?”I say confusion still laced in my voice . “Do u like me?shit- I don’t know how do do all this shit-Kiara said you liked me”he says as I runs his hand over his face in embarrassment .

“I-well -“I begin. “I like you and I feel really bad talking about that girl in front of you earlier. Kiara told me and it was a total dick move”he says as he scans my face for a sign of hesitance “wow JJ captain of hookups actually likes a girl?”I grin teasingly.He gives me a look with a grin spread on his face “I like you too Maybank”I laugh “Soo does this mean free shit from the surf shop?”He grins as he throws an arm around me .

Hate the ending of this sooo much. I hope this fits the request enough I tried. Thankyou for the request 💞

[reneesghostinthelivingroom]

Hello, Could you write about Reader being terrified of coming out as a lesbian and it is giving her so much anxiety. Renee helps her

It's just angst-hurt/comfort-fluff ?

Love you work XOXO

🧡💜

You Call At 3am, I'm Picking Up

|| Reneé Rapp x fem!reader

|| Warnings; swearing, reader struggling with sexuality, reader and renee are friends, anxiety

|| Summary; Reneé and reader have been friends for years. Reader's struggling with her sexuality and Reneé helps her out.

Requests open!

Started; September 18th

Finished; September 18th

~~~

Reneé had woken up at 3am to a call from you. She had a separate ringtone just for you, so she could easily recognize when it was you calling versus someone else.

With a tired groan, the blonde reached for her phone and picked it up, answering your call." Hi, baby." Her tone was low, little raspy from sleep.

"I'm gay." You practically blurted it out between sobs and it took her a moment to register what was actually happening. She quickly sat up, holding her phone to her ear," Reneé, I'm gay and I don't know what else to do-"

"Okay, okay. Shh, baby. Deep breaths." She waited as she listened to make sure you were taking breaths," I'm proud of you for coming out. That's amazing and we can totally celebrate later if that's something you're down for- but right now we can just talk. Or you can talk and I can listen."

You took deep breaths, listening to Reneé's voice as she rambled. The idea of celebrating with her later was nice... but you were still freaking out. You'd been up all night having anxiety attacks over this until you finally called Reneé. Who was one of the only gay people you personally knew.

"I... I'm scared, Neé. This changes everything- I- God. Fuck." You groaned, leaning back on your bed. You couldn't get your words together you were so exhausted. But at the same time you couldn't sleep. Sleep- shit. You just realized you probably woke Reneé up," God, I'm sorry- I woke you, didn't I?"

"You did. But it's okay. Especially when it's for a call like this. Want me to come over?"

"Yes please." You breathed out a sigh of relief. Glad that Reneé wasn't upset with you for waking her and glad that she was coming over to help you. She was an incredible friend and you don't know what you would do without her most days.

It didn't take long before you heard a knock at your door and went over to open it, finding Reneé standing there with a box of chocolates and your favourite ice cream.

"Wasn't sure if this would be a chocolate situation or an ice cream, so I bought both." She handed them to you and you gave her a soft a smile. Taking the sweets from her.

"Thanks, Neé." You moved out of the way so she could get inside and headed to your kitchen. You put one of your treats away (you can decide which one) and kept the other. Walking back over to Reneé who sat on the couch, watching you closely.

"What do you need from me? Advice? Comfort? Someone to listen?" She asked, she wanted this to be all about you. It was a big moment.

You thought about it and then looked into her eyes as you took a bite from your treat," maybe all three?"

She nodded and rested her arm to the back of the couch as she faced you fully, listening to your every word.

"I just... lately I've really started notice that I feel different around girls. Like, how I'm supposed to feel for guys but I don't feel that way at all for them and it was just really confusing. I've been up the last week or so just nonstop thinking about it and then finally just decided to call you because I really don't know what else to do." You rambled out, she sat and listened.

That explained why you looked so tired to her all week, Reneé didn't realize how poorly you'd been sleeping and that worried her.

"It can feel that way." Reneé nodded," if you're certain you're gay then you're gay, that's okay, Y/N. And if anyone tells you otherwise you send them to me."

You laughed a little at that last bit and nodded, yeah. You'd be safe with Reneé backing you up.

"Thank you, seriously. You're... amazing." Reneé didn't miss the dreaminess in your tone and bit back a smirk. She had a good feeling about what that meant and how you felt towards her, but she stayed quiet on that. Wanting you to come to terms with it first because you probably didn't even fully realize at this point.

"Of course, baby. How do you want this to go? Do you want people to know?" She asked.

"I don't think I do... at least, not yet. I want to get a little more comfortable with it first."

She gave your hand a small squeeze," sounds perfect. You don't ever have to come out if that's not something you want, either. But should you decide to... I'll be there every step of the way."

The rest of your night was spent relaxing with each other, eating snacks, watching movies. Until about 5am when you both fell asleep against each other on the couch. And that was the best sleep you'd had in a long time.

[em-harlsnow]

i was just watching a new trend that's going on rn that people tell their partners "i wasn't satisfied with your performance last night" and it reminded me of you it'd be so funny if mickey tell ian that lol

Okau so i looked for this one everywhere, but i couldn’t find a good example so i’ll have to make it up as i go!

So Mickey starts getting annoyed. ian’s just constantly having this little laugh to himself about these stupid toktik clock trends, and mickey’s sick of it.

he thinks for a while about how to get ian back, and decides that the best way would be to give him a taste of his own medicine.

by downloading toktik, which is apparently tiktok.

at first it’s very weird, and it takes a while for him to understand how the app works. when he does, he searches ‘couple prank’ into the search bar, remembering the point of this whole thing.

the second one he sees is interesting, so he resolves to try it.

they’re eating breakfast, ian absentmindedly typing on his phone. he’s probably looking for more ways to confuse mickey with those stupid trends.

he swallows the food in his mouth.

“you know last night?” mickey says.

“yeahh” ian responds, only looking up from his phone to smirk.

“yeah, i wasn’t really satisfied with your performance, man.” he tells him, then gets up and puts his plate in the sink.

it takes a moment to register, but when it does it’s exactly what mickey expected.

“what?” ian whips around.

mickey just shrugs.

“what do you mean you weren’t satisfied? i was great!” he rises from the table, waving his arms around.

mickey tries to contain his laughter. “i dunno about that. i think you’re losing your touch.”

ian gapes like a fish out of water. “losing my- no! no i’m fucking not!”

“uhuh, sure.”

“what the fuck, mickey! do you even remember last night?”

��‘course i do. which is why im saying this.”

ian presses closer, squinting at him to see if he’s lying. “last night was good.”

“sure it was tough guy.”

mickey can see ian’s brows furrow as he gets more and more annoyed. last night was good, which is probably why he’s so confused.

“well, what was wrong with it? i’m sure i can improve.” ian tells him, immediately switching to horny and annoyed instead of just annoyed.

“you didn’t last very long.”

“what?! were you even there last night?!” he rages, taking his hands off of mickey.

in response, mickey just laughs.

“please, i killed you in two seconds.”

“you- wait, what?” ian stutters, suddenly even more confused.

“i said i killed you in two seconds. you’re shitty at video games.”

ian blinks a few times, putting two and two together. “you weren’t satisfied with my performance last night in liam’s shitty fortnight game?” he says, outraged.

“yeah. what’d you think i was talking about?” he asks, playing dumb.

ian seems to catch on. “you’re such an ass.”

“dunno what you’re talking about.” mickey shrugs, barely containing his laughter.

when ian grabs him again and places him on the counter roughly, he’s not exactly surprised.

<3

hope it lived up to expectations!

—-> send me tiktok trends and i’ll write a fic!

[ohbo-ohno]

Can't get over how fucking puppy shaped Johnny is. And how everyone can see it. Us, Ghost, the 141, his co's before them. That man is just begging for a good boy (and a belly rub!) and any excuse to get on his knees for his superiors. Like fuck, but for all his healthy disrespect of authority, Soap was made to take orders.

Just imagine that Simon isn't the first co to get handsy with Johnny, that he isn't the first to push the boundaries of what is proper. Ghost is all satisfied how well Soap is taking his slow puppyfication. Meanwhile Soap is so used to his co's giving him pats on the head, making him eat from their fingers, kneel between their legs and making dehumanizing comments about him that he doesn't even register what Ghost is doing as anything abnormal.

Just. Puppy!Soap where everyone and their mother knows that that was not supposed to be a human and treating him accordingly.

oh my GOD i just recently read a fic where soap (or maybe ghost) had had a previous CO take advantage of him sexually under the guise of "punishment" and he went to price (or maybe ghost) after he fucked up, expecting the same treatment, and instead of telling him "that's wrong, report that freak" price/ghost just takes advantage of him in the same way and 🥴🥴🥴 if someone here recognizes it PLEASE link it i need to reexperience it

anyways thinking about johnny obviously being completely puppy shaped, but because everyone sees that and treats him accordingly he becomes even more puppy shaped. like he becomes more obedient (and well trained) once people start to occasionally treat him like he's a dog :(

like CO's will write little notes in his file specifically about how he needs verbal praise (multiple literally wrote the words "good boy" or "good sergeant") and there are a couple notes about physical touch - punishment or congratulatory - work best to get his attention. CO's read those notes, take one look at johnny, and go Oh Alright and act accordingly. price and ghost are no different

price is more "talking to you like you're a K9 because it's what makes you most effective in the field" and ghost is more "talking to you like the mutt i just brought home who hasn't been trained yet because i want you to think of nothing but pleasing me", yk?

(it turns out that ghost's biggest problem isn't getting johnny to behave, it's getting everyone else to stop fucking touching him like only ghost should be)

[prince-liest]

Omg, I just wanted to say I ADORE your characterization of Al and Vox! I don't even have the words to express how much I love reading your stuff, especially the Anon responses you post on here. The behind the scenes thoughts are literally my food, lifesource, its so good when people not only write characters IN CHARACTER, but also include stuff about their analysis/understanding of the character too.. I'm literally obsessed with breaking down characters and yk, cracking their chrome domes open to see how they work (which admittedly, I am not the best at <_< but I love reading them). Just wanted to say how much I love your writing. I had maybe 2 questions, please don't feel pressured to answer them :>

What in your mind (in reference to the 66.6 fics) would motivate Alastor to let Val get close to him in the first place? Or was that more you picking these two characters up by the scruff of their necks and plopping them into a hypothetical scenario to explore their character and write some fun intimate thingsTM?

What do you think of the dynamic of Vox and Al vs something like Lucifer and Al? Personally I've noticed that something Alastor craves, behind the mask of his static smiling persona, is attention. He's (at least how I saw it) usually peeved when people don't care about his absence, and seems especially bothered by the King of Hell refusing to really acknowledge him, so he goes out of his way to push Lucifers buttons (like calling himself a father figure to Charlie, IN FRONT OF HER ACTUAL FATHER LOL) whereas with Vox, Vox is literally CONSTANTLY thinking about Alastor. Man literally interrupted his regular TV program to do a segment about how much he totally didn't at ALL care about Alastors dissapearance or the fact that he returned (suree buddy). So Alastor can have more fun with him and annoy him by ignoring and messing with him on purpose.

ty if you do respond to this, sorry if it was hard to understand, sometimes I forget how to put the thoughts in my brain into coherent words!

Ahhhh, thank you very much, anon! I'm especially happy that you're enjoying my commentary on Tumblr, haha - I spent a while on Twitter because that's where all the fandom zines I was in were being hosted, but nothing beats Tumblr for giving me a nigh-unlimited word count and a captive audience for my rambling! >:D <3 I'm back to cocooning myself on the OG hell site.

Thank you for this ask, it really brightened my day! :D

As for your questions:

1. I'm assuming that was a typo and that you mean Vox (but in case you did mean Val: that was just a funny accident of him walking by the room! Alastor wasn't paying enough attention until it was too late), and to that I say:

I think Alastor allows Vox to take a go at him in canon because he finds Vox's obsession with him to be entertaining, but also because Alastor is kind of a narcissist and that same obsession massively feeds his ego, especially in a political climate that otherwise forgot about Alastor. Vox's whole "Who gives a shit about Alastor coming back?! Haha, now let me have a public meltdown and short out power to the whole city about it! Oh, fuck, why is he back, though?? Can we send a spy in to find out??" is exactly the reaction that Alastor wants every time he mentions his mysterious absence and gets brushed off.

At the same time, Alastor doesn't seem to register Vox as a sincere and genuine threat. He's a big enough fish in the Pride Ring pond that his obsession with Alastor is gratifying, but Alastor's self-absorption also doesn't really allow him to treat Vox as a threat tier above "annoying in a funny way, and also television is stupid." (Perhaps this will change in season 2... :eyes: (or perhaps Alastor will get Even Worse) (please god let him get even worse))

So those two things in combination make Vox the perfect candidate for Alastor to experiment with while maintaining his ego and not feeling particularly threatened. Despite Vox's Safeword 101 talk, Alastor would never put stock into that system with Vox unless he was certain that he himself would be able to back up a 'no' with overwhelming force. Him even considering safewords in the Live On Air! series is less for his own sake and more a politesse he offers on Vox's request to warn Vox to slow the fuck down before Alastor tries to put his insides on the outside.

2. And in direct contrast, we have Lucifer...

... Who Alastor obviously actually cares quite a bit about, because he's a whole nother power tier from both Vox and Alastor, and furthermore and possibly even more importantly, a credible threat to Alastor's relationships and standing in the hotel. I think a lot of discussion I see about Alastor prodding Lucifer seems to talk about how quickly he got annoyed about Lucifer's comments, but that misses the fact that he was pissed off before Lucifer even showed up. He got pissy the moment he saw the welcome sign, actually! And I wager that he was narratively absent for the scene where Charlie actually calls Lucifer because he would have done his best to manipulate her out of doing so had be been there.

And given that the two clearly haven't met before (though obviously Alastor knows of Lucifer - and hates that the inverse isn't true, hah), it's not 100% clear exactly why he's immediately so annoyed, but in my personal view of things and barring something like "he's projecting onto Lucifer because his contract is with Lilith," I think that what we know of Alastor's personality points most strongly to "he liked being the hotel's benefactor and sees it as His Project, and doesn't like the idea that Charlie called daddy for something that she thought mysterious, powerful Alastor couldn't handle." He distracts a lot with obviously-goading comments about practically being Charlie's dad in his duet with Lucifer, but underneath that he puts a lot of emphasis on the work he's done for the hotel and the fact that he's been supporting Charlie and the hotel from the start, so why the fuck is this deadbeat asshole suddenly turning up?!

Tl;dr: Charlie missed her insight roll on Alastor's personal investments and he's sooooo offended - and taking it out on Lucifer!

I think one of my favorite things about both Lucifer and Alastor is that they both sooo obviously belong in the Pride Ring, hahaha.

[miloformula123fan]

hi! can i request a combination of 23 and 59 with oscar??

Hi!!! I honestly loved writing this, although I apologise for the small cliffhanger I left it on.

Please keep requesting - y'all have awesome ideas we agree on a lot of stuff :) - my guidelines are here, and if you want some prompts, they are here.

also feel free to come in and start chatting to me in my asks, would love to get to know y'all better

Oscar Piastri x Reader: (CW: f1 crash (non descriptive), angst, fight)

One day you’re gonna need me and i’m not gonna be there to fix it

Keep fighting, i can’t lose you.

---

“Oscar!” Y/N called from the bedroom. “Can you come here a minute?”

“Sure, darling, what’s wrong?” Oscar walked into his bedroom that he shared with his partner, smiling when he saw them on their phone in their bed.

“I saw Alpine’s announcement. Congrats! Can’t believe I’ve signed so many NDAs and you still couldn’t tell me!” Y/N looked up with their excitement evident. Working as an Alpine race engineer meant that they couldn’t wait to eventually be talking to their boyfriend over the radio.

“What? What did Alpine announce?” Oscar looks so confused. Yes he is the reserve driver for Alpine, but he hasn’t extended anything with Alpine, unless it was a sponsor announcement, but he didn’t think he’d announced any of those either.

“Oscar…what… Alpine announced that you’re driving for them to replace Alonso. I’m going to be your race engineer! What…why are you looking at me like that?” Y/N’s smile started to fade, their confusion evident. They could see that Oscar wasn’t comprehending what they were saying.

“Because… I’m not driving for Alpine next year. I’m driving for McLaren.” Oscar looked at his partner in confusion. What was Otmar on? Yes there had been some contract negotiations and honestly Oscar and Mark hadn’t been able to find any fault in the contract. It was just that what McLaren had offered was a lot better. And their data looked better.

“But…both Daniel and Lando have contracts for next year and Alpine just announced the damn thing. What do you mean you’re leaving me for McLaren?” Y/N’s face looked like they were about to cry

“I haven’t signed any contract with Alpine… I- I need to talk to Mark, I need to sort this out.” Oscar pulls his phone out of the charger and sees that he’s already had about 10 missed calls from Mark - considering it’s about 5am where he is, this is a slight surprise. Although maybe not, considering how big of a fuck up this is. Then Y/N’s last words dawned on him.

“I-I’m not leaving you for McLaren. You’ll always be my girlfriend, regardless of what team I’m driving for.” Oscar started panicking as he saw tears starting to fall down Y/N’s face as they furiously tried to rub them away. They then got up from the bed and started repacking their suitcase, not too hard considering they’d only arrived here last night.

“Really? How am I meant to make sure you’re safe when you’re driving for another team? Oscar, listen to me, one day you’re gonna need me and i’m not going to be there to fix it.” Y/N finished zipping up their bag and looked at Oscar. Both of them had tears streaming down their faces that they looked at each other before Y/N kissed Oscar softly on the lips and walked out.

—

Y/N saw the crash from the pitwall, but didn’t fully register what had happened until halfway through her message to Gasly ‘Box, box Pierre, red flag, it’s Oscar… sorry, it’s Oscar off.’

“Is he okay?” She could hear Pierre’s worry through his voice.

“No response yet, the team is working on it and the marshalls are working on getting him out, but his vitals appear okay, likely just unconscious from the crash.”

“Okay, copy, box box.” Similarly she could hear his resignation and determination as he came into the pitlane.

Y/N just sat there, listening to the rain pattering on the roof of the pitwall, feeling the tears fall down her face rapidly and her breaths becoming shallower. She could feel some people giving her a little comfort and rubbing her shoulders, nearly everyone had known about their relationship last year and nearly everyone knew how it had ended mid last year due to the chaos of Oscar’s contract woes.

Pierre came up and comforted her, but she refused to take her headphones off until she heard through the radio that the race had been abandoned to unsafe conditions, as it should’ve been hours ago.

When Y/N heard this she ran from the pit wall towards the medical centre. Everyone got out of her way, the exception being Mark, who had clearly been waiting outside the garage for her appearance, who also sprinted through the paddock with her to the medical centre, where a quick check of IDs had granted them access to Oscar’s room, where he had been left and they had been told to call a doctor or nurse should he wake up. Y/N pulled up the plastic chairs and sat next to Oscar’s bedside, as Mark excused himself to grab them both some coffee. She looked at Oscar and whispered, half choking on her words, voice cracking ‘Keep fighting, please Osc, I can’t lose you.’

[wannaeatramyeon]

i have a silly little (very angsty) idea but im not sure if its what you would be comfortable writing so please ignore this if youre not up for it!

im thinking of gun, goo, samuel, vasco, and eli (seperately + remove anyone u want if its too many) with a recovering addict reader who they thought was clean but had actually relapsed awhile ago and they find out (whether its bc reader ODs, they catch reader high, they find readers stash, whatever reason)

sorry if this is a sensitive subject, they j tend to help me a lot, thank you in advance whether you write it or not.

TW: Substance recovery

Hi Anon, I hope you are doing ok. Stay strong, you can do this. Please ping me if you ever want to talk or vent. I really wasn't sure about writing this because my experience is sorta limited. But hopefully this helps.

Lookism Boys helping with Recovery

Gun, Goo, Samuel, Vasco, Eli

You've felt the symptoms of withdrawal before; the cold sweat, the nausea, the shaking. This isn't the first time you tried to quit but you hoped it was the last.

However, all this was caused by your boyfriend standing in front of you. Your body violently registers what is in their hand before your brain can. Your stash, your just-in-case, and you want to throw up.

You slump to the floor, head hanging in shame. Too ashamed and guilty to meet their eyes, to find disappoint and anger at the promises you've broken.

Gun has seen a lot of things in his life so far. A lot of people addicted to a lot of things, and himself is no different. He thinks about the cigarettes in his pocket, and his own unhealthy obsession with fighting - that he is very willing to give his life up for.

With you, he understands the struggle, the pull. The battle everyday.

"Y/N," he says, crouching down next to you and taking your hand in his.

Your name is soft on his lips, and finally you meet his jet-black eyes. To your surprise you see no judgement.

Gun places a tender kiss on your forehead, "What can I do?"

"Princess-" Goo starts, and he can see you flinching. He can be unrelenting with his sharp words but he would never- Never with you, and never when you're so vulnerable.

His voice softens, "Have you been-"

He doesn't need to finish your sentence and you're already vehemently shake your head. You need to let Goo know that it's not what he thinks. You haven't been using, you've just been keeping that around.

And now you think about the words to explain yourself, you realise how stupid that sounds.

The silence stretches.

"Hey," and Goo is next to you, an arm around your shoulder, "I want you around for a long time and a good time, ok?" He wipes the tears from your cheeks. "Your Goo-bear is here for you."

Samuel crouches down next to you, but you still can't bring yourself to look at him.

With careful hands, he tilts your face up to meet him and thumbs away your tears.

"You haven't?" he asks, and you say no, leaning into the comfort of his palm.

Samuel thinks about what he can do, and after a beat, announces that he's going to take some time off work. Your immediate thought is he's trying to keep an eye on you, he needs to babysit you, he doesn't trust-

"Y/N." And that stop your brain from spiralling. He knows you too well. "You're not alone."

Samuel presses a kiss to each of your eyelid, kissing the tears away, "I think we both deserve a break. Why don't we go away somewhere together?"

Old Vasco would react with anger and disbelief. Now, after talking to you, after educating himself, he tries. He really tries.

Something he had to do without Jace, or any of the Burn Knuckles because he wouldn't betray your trust like that.

And the more he reads, the more he understands. Sort of. Vasco still sees the world in black and white, but more and more shades of grey are entering.

"Is there more?" he asks, and you shake your head. "I'm just going to..." he trails off, binning everything he found before he seeks you out again.

It kills him to see you struggling, to struggle everyday. he wants to support you anyway he can.

"I'll never fully understand but. Y/N. I want to help."

Eli has made many mistakes in his life. He thinks about Heather, he thinks about Hostel, he thinks about Olly and his own drug use.

But you and him, that's not a mistake. That's so far from a mistake.

"I didn't know you were still using," and you hear the question in his voice. His desperation to prove him wrong

"I'm not!" You deny, and it's the absolute truth.

Not since Eli and not since Yenna. And with Eli, the unfortunate reality is that his love for you is contingent on this.

That he won't allow anything like this around his daughter, and you can't blame him.

"Y/N," and his eyes soften when you meet them, "I'm really proud of you."

[by-kilian]

Update

Hi everyone! I know I've been pretty quiet on here but I just wanted to let you all know I'm still here.

Few housekeeping things first though!

If you haven't noticed already, my AO3 is still here BUT it is now locked to registered users only meaning you need to have an account if you want to read my works. This is to combat the heavy amount of bots commenting/scraping/and AI shit that fanfic has faced within the last two years. It's only gotten worse as time goes on and it really sucks, because I hate to put my works behind a wall for guest readers. But it's not as if they're gone, they're just tucked away. Still, with that note, I want to recommend that you download my stories if you enjoy them so that you can keep them for personal use. I recommend downloading ANY fics if you enjoy them, but especially now with so much AI stealing going on. I know myself and many other authors are not opposed to scrubbing our works off the internet as much as possible if this goes on, and while I don't hope for that to happen, it's always a possibility so just a heads up to download anything you love (by anyone, not just me!)

I no longer accept anon asks. I am so deeply sorry to those of you who spoke to me on anon and were always lovely and sweet, but it will not be turned back on. I can't be arsed dealing with peoples' shite when all I do is stay to myself and write 😂. However, if you want to talk to me but would prefer a level of anonymity, please send me a message with ❌ <- this emoji in it. I will answer you PRIVATELY, and it will go straight to your tumblr inbox. I speak to one of my readers this way exclusively and it always works really well :), so if you're open to that, feel free to send me an ask. I don't bite.

I do plan to write the epilogue for STH soon but as you can tell, I'm giving myself a bit of a break. Seeing that it is the epilogue, I feel a little more comfortable leaving some time between the update since the story technically has its proper ending, but I do plan to write the epilogue. Just been a bit busy juggling a lot of things at the moment. <3 But when I find time, I will write and post it.

Thank you all for your love and support, hope everyone is doing well and staying safe esp if it's summer where you are!

[aquariuswritersblog]

Give Me A Chance (Hawks Fanfic) Pt. 1

Hi everyone! This is my first real post ever! Pls read it and let me know what you think. Hopefully, the next parts will be spicier fr. Also, in my head Hawks is tall, and I know mha is supposed to be set in like Japan, but girlie still has an English degree. ENJOY

______________________________________________________________

It’s another tiring and monotonous day at y/n’s barista job dealing with sticky syrups and impatient customers. Y/n works at a cute cafe in the heart of the city, and she is a hardworking barista who usually tries to make small talk with customers and be as polite as she can, but talking to people all day can be tiring. Today brought something different, more interesting than y/n’s everyday. 

During a slow part of her work day, y/n looked up from the counter when a customer entered ringing the shop bell. A tall-ish man with his hair tucked into a stupid looking-black fedora walked up to the counter with all too much confidence for simply walking into a coffee shop. As he approached the counter with a smirk, he called out in a cocky voice, “Nice hair, barista.”

Y/n could feel herself turning red as the man in black stood in front of her. Umm what the fuck? Is he talking to me? There’s no one else here. Is something wrong with my hair, thought y/n. Y/n usually can’t be bothered, but dressing up a little makes her feel lighter and helps her get through the day. She thought she looked cute today with her cat-eye, cute braid, and coffee earrings. Hot shame flooded through her as she felt the man’s insult. She shot the man with an accusing look as she checked her braid resting on her shoulder, and, sure enough, the curly ends were coated in white, whip cream. Y/n gasped and started to clean the cream off her hair, and when she looked up at the man again, she saw him glance at her hair, then back to her eyes, and he said, “So… how’d that happen?”

Y/n definitely let herself get a little too flustered (she is nervous around guys with hot voices), and she replied snarkily, “Well, your fedora looks stupid.”

A loud chuckle erupted from the man and after the small moment it took for him to recover, he asked, “Could I get an americano please?”

Y/n almost received whiplash by how quickly he changed topics. She honestly could have gone back and forth with this guy all day, but she was too flustered and felt like keeping her job, so she sucked it up and replied, “Of course, sir. Could I get a name for that order?” 

The man frowned and quietly answered, “K.”

“Thank you, sir,” Y/n replied as the man paid. Y/n walked away keeping her annoyance to herself.

While y/n was busy making his drink, the disappointed look lingered on the man's face as he waited for his drink to be made. After a while, y/n finished making the drink and called out, “Americano for K,” while staring down the man with the stupid fedora. She quickly walked away from the drink after she placed it down, trying to avoid another interaction with the man. Back at the register waiting for customers, she watched the man walk out of the shop with admittedly less cockiness than he entered with. Glad I knocked him down a peg, she thought with a smug look on her face. He was actually fun to talk to. And hot. 

Suddenly, with one foot out the door, K turned around and said, “You look really cute, y/n.” Then, the door shut behind him. Left with just the ringing of the bell, y/n’s face turned red again. How did he know my name? She tilted her head down and found her name tag pinned to her apron. K can’t be his real name.

***Flashforward a few weeks***

Y/n stood in front of the steps for a large, corporate-looking building. Today was her chance to start her career and get out of the cafe. Today was her interview with the writing team for a PR company for different hero agencies. Her interview was at noon, and she prepared all morning. She knew that this particular company, Heroes PR, worked with heroes like Endeavor, Mirko, Best Jeanist, and even Hawks! Being on this writer's team would mean that she would help with projects like creating storylines for comic books and movies surrounding the heroes but also write public statements given by hero agencies or general communications that need to be written up. Being on this writing team would be a dream career job. Y/n has been working towards this goal since college, and now that she has an English degree, she needs to start making her moves. Standing outside of the building, she built up her confidence to walk in. The writing team interviewing her had already seen a portfolio of her writing, and she knew that her writing would speak for itself. However, that did almost nothing to calm her nerves about the interview. Even if her writing was amazing, if she flops this interview or does not vibe with the team, there is a very good chance that she will not get the job. Writing positions like these, where the writers get to work with pro heroes, are highly competitive. She was ready though.

About 10 minutes before they were expecting her, she walked in through the front entrance and made her way to the interview room which they had emailed to her previously. Making her way up the elevator and through the building, Y/n repeated talking points in her head that she thought they might bring up. As she was about to open the conference room where the interview would happen, she heard a familiar voice for a split second as a gust of wind zoomed past her in the hallway. She turned her head to see what it was that practically flew past her, blowing her hair awry. Right as she lifted her hand to fix her hair, the door to the conference room opened right in front of her. 

“Miss L/N, are you ready for the interview?” a tall man in a plain suit asked, lacking any kindness or politeness. 

Already flustered, y/n quickly answered, “Of course, sir!!” She tried to enter the conference room, but the plain man who was supposedly on the writing team was blocking the entire doorway with his stocky body. 

“Actually miss, we’ve read your works and we think you are an amazing writer. However, we are looking for a more… assertive fit for the position,” said the man with a deep voice while blocking the doorway. His eyes roamed over her body, pausing too long on her breasts and hips. What a perv, she thought. 

“Wait, sir! Please at least hear me out, give me a chance to talk about what I can bring to this team! I promise you won’t regret it!” pleaded y/n, trying to preserve any ounce of dignity that she had left. 

“Sorry miss, maybe you can try with another—” Suddenly a second gust of wind hit her and the man in the doorway, and another man with a confident, playful manner and voice appeared next to her.

“Hey guys, I overheard some voices talking about a writing position here. As that job is directly related to my position, I figured that I could offer some of my own input today,” said the man who just flew over here— Wait, that’s not any man, thought Y/n. That’s Hawks. Like THE PRO HERO HAWKS. And there he was, standing in his full uniform; wings taking up a huge amount of the space in the hallway. Seeing as THEE Hawks was standing right next to her, y/n was definitely freaking out internally. He was tall, and his blonde hair was just as striking in person as it is on TV. Y/n is a Hawks fan for life, and that was another reason she wanted to work with heroes. 

The interviewer man started, “Sorry, but this decision is ours to—”

“Yeah, no. Sorry,” said hawks over the interviewer man. “But if you refuse me any further, I might just have to contact my team about this,” said Hawks in a playfully worried tone. Hawks positioned himself behind you and placed his hands on your shoulders lightly and moved you forward so that both you and hawks were walking towards the man in the doorway. He was literally pushing you into the room, and using the fact that he is Hawks to get the man blocking the door to back up. Each step Hawks walked you closer into the doorway and into the room, the man who was blocking the door backed up. Eventually, Hawks had moved both you and him into the conference room where the entire writing team was sitting. Now, Y/N, Hawks, and the formerly-blocking-the-door-man were all standing in front of the writing team that was supposed to be interviewing her. 

Looking around, she thought, Ugh, of course it’s a room full of men. Hawks, who didn’t stop talking to the interviewer man the whole time, continued by harshly declaring to the room, “Shame on all of you for not even giving this pretty writer a chance. You all are going to give her a proper interview right now, and I’m gonna stay here for all of it!”

Y/n was a mess of emotions at this moment. Hawks hands were still on Y/N’s shoulders as hawks stood a bit away from her while looking over her shoulder to scold the writing team. His hands on her shoulders, Hawks being that closer to her; yeah, safe to say she was pretty flustered. The entirety of the team was dumbstruck at Hawk berating them, and Hawks using the word “pretty” to describe her distracted her for one second. This is so embarrassing. I have to get out of here, she thought. Quickly, Y/N walked a few paces away from Hawks, faced the room with teary eyes and a red face, and said, “Thank you for the opportunity.” Then, she practically ran out of the room with her bag in hand. She headed straight to the elevator, and the wait for the doors to open felt like hours. When she finally stepped in and pressed the 1st floor button, Hawks flew down the hallway at almost a sonic speed, stopping in front of the elevator. Y/n was extremely embarrassed to see him again and started smashing the close door button. As he was standing there, she stumbled out the words, “I’m so sorry for causing a scene, Hawks sir.”

Right before the elevator door closed, he spoke, “Please don’t be sorry Y/N. You let me walk all over you in that coffee shop; don’t let them walk all over you. And call me Keigo.”

The elevator door closed, and y/n stood alone as the elevator descended. Realization hit y/n. Oh my fucking god. K from the coffee shop is Keigo. Without his wings and with his stupid hat, he didn’t look the same. Wow. Wait, what does this mean? Does it mean anything?

***Later that night***

That interview went so horribly. It’s been like 8 hours since then, and it’s still the only thing I can think about. Y/n sat down at her little desk that took her ages to assemble in her apartment. At her desk, she opened her computer and thought, May as well start job searching again, I bet I can line up another interview with another company. As she checked her email, there was an email from Hawks’s team sitting right there in her inbox. She fully stood up and walked around her room to calm down until she could sit back down and read the email.

The email read: “Greetings Y/N L/N! We are so excited to offer you a position at the Hawks Hero Agency! Your position will be to act as a writer and liaison between the PR Company and our agency. You will, unfortunately, still would have to work with the writing team of Heroes PR, but you would get to conduct your operations out of the Hawks Agency building instead of the Heroes PR building. We await your response! Tomorrow, you should receive an email with more specific information on this position. Cheers, Team Hawks.”

Damn, thought y/n. They really gave me a chance. I guess I don’t need to job search anymore.

______________________________________________________________

Let me know what you think and pls like or reblog if you want! Or follow me!

[xxcatzladyxx]

Hawks x Reader

Hello everyone! ❤️

Pairing: Hawks/ Keigo Takami x Female! Reader

Summary: Like every day, you stand at your Work and think, Like every day, nothing Special Happens. Thought wrong. Until a specific customer enters the store

Will there be a Part two? Yes of course!

Have a good read!

Any requests? Write me! Love you!

Your Wolfi 🐺

~~~

You're standing behind a register at a fast food store. Your forehead is literally dripping with sweat. You go about your work like a robot, cashing in one customer after another. You're mentally counting down the seconds until you can finally finish work and get out of this madhouse. For today at least. People are pouring in en masse, leaving you no time to catch your breath. A slight headache knocks on your forehead and reminds you that you should drink something. A large glass of water. Ice cold. But you can only dream of that at the moment.

Another group of customers enters the store. You roll your eyes in annoyance. Is there anything free in your shop today? Well, you should know that better than anyone. Nothing is free. Humanity is just getting crazier. Even if the customers are paying for your living in some way, you can't understand how people can stuff themselves with this poison that is fast food. Your best friend is a case in point. She sits at a table right next to the counter and stuffs herself with a huge mountain of fries. Like she does every day. She doesn't really work. She helps out her parents, who pay for everything, from time to time. Otherwise she sits with you at work and talks to you about her crush. Day in, day out. You're already sick of it.

She waits every single day for him to show up here. He could never say no to a place like this. Fast food is his favorite. It's stuck in your mind. God knows why. You don't even know him, even though he enjoys great popularity. You only know him from your friend's stories. He's supposed to be an attractive young man with blond hair. Eyes like gold. Large, red wings adorn his back. He is a hero. A pro hero.

You don't understand the fuss about heroes any more than you understand the enthusiasm for fast food. Ironic, given that you work in a fast food store. But you're more concerned with the enthusiasm for heroes. They're just people like you and me, aren't they? Well, they have extraordinary abilities, but they're still just people. So what's so great about heroes? They protect others! Great! You mentally clap your hands. That's what the police do too. Why aren't the police celebrated like the heroes? Because they don't have any special skills? Your head is already starting to spin from all the questions you're asking yourself. That's as far as you can think about it. Your friend brings you back to the here and now.

"Oh, here he comes!", she squeals, dropping her fries and staring at the entrance to the store. You're still busy with customers and can't concentrate on HIM. The others have priority. Whether he's a hero or not. First come, first served. Your friend's squeaking gets louder. However, the squealing isn't just coming from her. Other women also join in. You're just saying goodbye to one customer and getting ready to tackle the next one.

"Hello, what would you like?", you say your routine sentence.

"I'd like your number.", you stare wide-eyed at the customer in front of you. You choke on your own spit.

"Please what?", you ask, completely absent-minded. Out of the corner of your eye, you see your friend's cell phone slam onto the tabletop. Her jaw drops. She stares at the guy in front of you just as dumbfounded as you do. With just one difference. She knows who is standing in front of you. You don't. It's her crush. The pro hero Hawks. Now you notice the big red wings. Before you can say anything, your friend speaks up. She joins you.

"She'd love to give you her number. She's just a bit shy and you took her by surprise. But don't worry! Here's her number.", she takes a napkin and scribbles your name and number on it and holds it out to the hero. He grins to himself and takes the napkin. In the meantime, you stand rooted to the spot and can't move. What's going on in front of you? She didn't just give him your number? Is this the hidden camera? Is someone about to come and tell you that it's all just a prank? Or are you still in bed and dreaming all this?

"Thank you! So, your name is (y/n). A very beautiful name for a beautiful woman.". the hero continues with a grin.

"Awww!", your friend gushes, gazing at the blonde with her eyes.

The world seems to have come to a standstill around the three of you. None of your colleagues care that you're standing around looking stupid and not doing your job. The other customers in the store don't seem to notice you either. Except for a few female ones. They look at you with envy and hatred. But you don't notice that. You don't notice anything at the moment. Your head is completely empty. No voice reaches you.

“Haha, how cute!”, Hawks laughs quietly as your cheeks turn a light pink.

"I'm telling you, she's shy. She can't handle compliments at all. She immediately blushes.", your friend smiles.

"Good to know.", Hawks smiles back.

You're slowly but surely coming back to your senses. You want to jump on your friend's neck and choke her until she runs out of breath. What the hell is she actually doing? And what kind of rubbish does she actually say? You and shy? Those are two worlds. You were just caught off guard. That's all. This is not shyness!

“Is there anything else I can do?”, you find your voice again. Unfortunately, not as confident as you would like.

"No thank you. That's all I wanted. I'll write to you. See you soon, my beautiful!", he waves you goodbye and takes off.

“Yes..”, is all you manage to say.

~*~

You almost wiped the incident at work from your mind as you collapsed onto the couch. Your phone vibrates next to you. You sigh, thinking it's your friend who just wants to talk about her crush again. You reluctantly pick up your phone and look at the screen. You almost drop it when you read a message from an unknown number. You start to sweat and you feel unintentionally warm. You feel like you're in love. You don't even know him. Why do you feel this way? You tap on the message to read it completely. You get even warmer and you curse your friend forever.

[insanityisdivine]

Fandom Ask Game: 6, 12, 22 please!!

6. Show us a bit of a WIP!

"We could make it work. We could—"

"They'll know it's not me. The kids are gonna be aggravated when they find out. You know I don't play like that."

"Not if we fix this now. We could practise, you know. We can change how things are played live. We could integrate you back–"

Ace exhaled through his nose. "I don't want back in, Paul. There is no coming back. Now I appreciate this gesture but I've made up my mind. I already have plans."

Something in Paul finally snapped. "Plans? Plans with what? Crashing cars and almost killing yourself?"

"No." Ace gritted out. " 'm been writing, reaching out to people. I know I can be more. KISS isn't working for me anymore. It's stifling. I'm more creative without—"

"Without me?" The words came out before Paul could register what he had just said.

The guitarist's brows furrowed. "No. I mean this band…this dynamic. You know what? Forget it. You're just gonna get upset."

"Of course I am upset! Don't you know what this will do to us!?! I've been doing everything I possibly can to keep us afloat and this is how you thank me!?"

"Hey what happened to 'one for all and all for one'?"

"It stopped when Peter and you stopped showing up. Stopped putting in the work. Stopped when you both got so fucking lazy. KISS isn't a joke."

Now Ace was pissed. "If that's how you feel then why are you even fucking here? You should be happy I'm going."

12. What's the funniest or craziest AU idea you've ever come up with?

Ace finding out there's fanfics about him and Paul and invites himself on Eddie to talk about it lol Paul recieves psychic damage as a result

22. Give us a headcanon for [character]

Ace is the most emotionally resilient of the two. Paul is always on the cusp of wanting to kiss Ace or throttle him