#like jesus some people will actually be so rude over it

[kufner]

watching people be mad about getting "spoilers" on decades-old shows makes me wanna gouge my eyes out

[ariaste]

Apparently there was some lil drama in Good Omens fandom again about people being deeply nervous and scared of the end of Season 3, and I wrote this in the replies of one of the asks that Neil Gaiman answered, but I feel like it is deserving of being crossposted into its own post (in a slightly expanded form) so folks actually see it.

cmere, good omens fandom, we're having an intervention. a Come To Jesus talk, if you will.

First of all, I'm literally begging the fandom to:

learn what personal boundaries are, especially around parasocial relationships with strangers. (Suggestion: When sending asks to authors you like, use "polite work email" etiquette, not "joking with a friend" etiquette. The latter comes off REAL weird sometimes, and sometimes outright mean/rude/bullying).

take a couple deep fucking breaths

embrace the philosophy of The Author's Intent Only HAS To Matter To The Author, It Does Not Have To Matter To YOU. If you do not like the author's intent, you can say "hmmmm no thanks" and write some fanfic. That's what it's for.

Friends, Romans, countrymen..... Stop trying to make Neil Gaiman responsible for your happiness. For one thing, that is an absolutely unfair and cruel burden to put on a stranger who doesn't know you. Neil is only responsible for Neil's happiness. You're responsible for your own happiness. In fact, do not rely on ANY external source to guarantee your happiness, not even very nice people like Neil, not even your significant other, not even your family members. Yes, those people might be able to help you with your happiness, but they cannot guarantee it. Expecting a third party to guarantee your happiness is how corporations exploit you, and it is the source of all media trauma. Take agency over your own joy! Don't give away your power! Plan to DIY your personal ideal ending!

Neil is not telepathic, Neil cannot know all your hopes and dreams and wishes, nor SHOULD he be expected to know them, nor does he have space to know them. He is busy with things like his own and Terry's hopes and dreams and wishes. Their hopes/dreams/wishes are just as valid and important as yours, aren't they? Yes, they are. So calm down. caaaaaaaallllllm dowwwwwn.

Yes, I love the show very much too, but at the end of the day it is just a story. And the great thing about stories is that you are empowered to retell them in a different way. It is not real, so if you end up unsatisfied by S3, then blithely impose your own reality and build your own joy. It's not like it's the End Of The World or anything (lil fandom joke there for you)

And look, if you read this and you're feeling Mad and Upset or Frustrated about it, that is a symptom that you are maybe feeling a little stung in your Media Trauma parts. I am sorry that other stories have let you down in the past, and I really sympathize that you are feeling scared about the fate of this story that really matters to you. You've invested a lot of love into it! I really understand the fear! You don't want to be hurt again, and that's super understandable and normal.

But bestie, literally the only way for you to find a story that's exactly perfect for you and that won't hurt you at all is for you to write it yourself. I know that sucks to hear, but it is the truth. If you keep pinning a hope of perfection on other people's stories, you will keep getting traumatized by the media you consume. Love other people's stories for what they ARE, not for the stories that you WANTED them to be -- the same way that we love people, you know? You have to let a person be their own person; you can't force them to be someone else. That's fucked up, so if you notice that you keep trying to do that, maybe go to therapy so you can be that Someone-Else person for yourself (or, if you can't afford therapy, read some self-help books from the library or find some good channels on Youtube who make content that might help with that (I really like JulienHimself)).

If you need a story to be something big and important for you, if you are seeking catharsis and healing from a story that matters to you and you're really scared that you won't get it, then open a Word document and start typing. You can do it. You're a human being, and you evolved to tell stories. Literally it's a species specialization. You got this. It's gonna be okay, because you're going to seize the means of production and MAKE it okay. Yes? Yes.

Good Omens S3 will be what it will be. It will be what Neil wants it to be and what Terry would have wanted it to be. Period. That IS actually the highest achievement and the most noble and admirable accomplishment that we can hope for. And hey, maybe what they want overlaps with what you want, and that will be wonderful! But that will be merely a happy coincidence. The only person who can TRULY center your wants is YOU. So stop trying to trap Neil into doing it, please, because he's busy and it's not his job, AND because your wants do matter and you deserve to have someone who can give your wants their 100% full attention (aka you. that's you. only you can do that. Not even your best friends in the world can do it. Not even your mom can do it, at least not if you're old enough to know how to read.)

It's gonna be okay. Really. Really, it is. No, stop typing the snarky melodramatic reply. This is not the time for jokes; I'm being serious. It's going to be okay. Neil Gaiman can only break your heart exactly as much as you allow him to do so. That's how art works. You have to consent in order to be affected by it, and you can withdraw your consent at any time. You're going to be okay. I promise. As long as you choose to claim your own agency and your own empowerment as an individual, then all will be well and all manner of things will be well.

[p3terparker]

𝗽𝘂𝘁 𝗶𝘁 𝗼𝗻 𝗺𝘆 𝗰𝗮𝗿𝗱 - 𝗽𝗲𝘁𝗲𝗿 𝗽𝗮𝗿𝗸𝗲𝗿

𝘀𝘂𝗺𝗺𝗮𝗿𝘆: peter and you argue because he loves to spend all of his money on you.

𝘄/𝗰: 0.5k

𝗮/𝗻: sorry for disappearing for a few months… again 😭 i am slowly getting back into writing so please bear with me! i saw my last fic reached over 9000 notes so that really motivated me to write something else for you guys ♡ i’m not so sure how i feel about this but i really do see peter as the type of boyfriend to blow all of his paycheck on you so i just had to write this LOL anyways i hope you all enjoy this!!

“put it on my card” you suddenly hear peter say as he pulled your earphones out, causing you to jump.

you were trying to keep yourself awake while waiting for peter to come through your window after patrolling for the night. to keep yourself occupied, you decided to listen to music and do some online shopping (which consisted of you just putting things in your cart but never actually buying anything). with your back facing your window and your earphones in, you didn’t see or hear peter come inside.

“jesus christ peter, don’t sneak up on me like that!”

“yeah yeah whatever” he says not really caring that he nearly scared the life out of you. “as i was saying before you rudely snapped at me, put your order on my card”

“i literally have over $400 worth of clothes in my cart”

“and?”

“what do you mean and? that’s expensive”

“your point?”

“that’s more than half of your paycheck”

“doesn’t matter. the whole reason why i have a job is to spoil you” he says while taking off his suit and getting comfortable in your bed.

“aww pete, you’re too sweet. but still, no. i don’t want you spending that much money on me”

he hummed an okay which led you to believe he was gonna just drop the conversation.

you were so wrong.

before you know it, he’s shooting a web at your laptop and dragging it over to him.

“NOOOO!” you scream dramatically and tackle him on your bed before he can type in his card information.

“LET ME BUY YOU CLOTHES!” he screams back while trying to push you off of him so he can grab your laptop again.

you quickly snatched your laptop from the bed and ran out of your room as fast as you could.

“GET BACK HERE!” peter shouted while chasing after you to which you just ignored and kept running away.

“you know what, you leave me no choice” he abruptly stops chasing you which causes you to stop in confusion.

suddenly, he jumped and stuck to your roof with his webs, and webbed your laptop over to him. you literally had no way of getting to him now.

“that’s no fair, you’re cheating!” you whined.

he laughed at you standing helplessly below him and finally placed your $450 order on his card.

“here you go” he smiled and jumped down from the roof, handing your laptop back over to you.

before you were about to scold him for spending so much money on you, you heard a knock at your door.

you and peter both looked at each other confused because you weren’t expecting anybody for the night. he walked to the door and opened, revealing the people you were least expecting.

the police.

“hello, we were called over here for a noise complaint. your neighbors reported screaming being heard from your apartment room and they were concerned. is everything alright?”

you did not expect to end your night by explaining to the police that you and your boyfriend were screaming over buying clothes.

[queers-gambit]

You Might Think It's Foolish

prompt: meeting your boyfriend's family for the first time creates anxiety, so, you stick to his side. at dinner, his mother calls out your clinginess - and Aemond doesn't defend you. or when someone else calls you clingy and he doesn't defend you / agrees with them.

pairing: modern!Aemond Targaryen x female!reader

fandom masterlist: House of the Dragon

collection masterlist: Clingy Baby

word count: 3.1k+

warnings: short and to the point, angst, hurt and no comfort, drama, relationship angst, stand alone, cursing, toxic family, toxic relationship...? barely edited, author's tired of her drafts.

Fall. Autumn. A time of shedding the old and preparing for the new. Perhaps that was why this happened - the universe was trying to shed what was unwelcome in your life. Yet you wouldn't see it this way for several long months.

The trees grew over the winding backroads in a curved canopy; creating a golden tunnel for visitors to pass through on their way to remote destinations. You were no exception, cruising at a leisure speed while taking slow, deep breaths to attempt to soak in the beauty autumn in the Northern Hemisphere brought. It was impossible not to feel enraptured by the serenity of the country roads, music set so you could hear it but still have a conversation if you wanted.

Your passenger princess told you it was the next right.

"I can't believe we're late," you whispered, sighing in strained stress. "This is a horrible first impression, Aemond."

"We won't even be the latest," he smirked.

"Doesn't matter, it's still rude to show up when the party's already started."

"We were busy."

"You were getting a new tattoo," you deadpanned.

"Exactly as I said - busy. And you got your third ear piercing, so, I don't want t'hear it."

You swallowed, making the right turn. "That's the house?" You gawked.

"Mhm," he gazed out his window, "welcome to the Targaryen Manor, princess."

"I forget you're from old money," you muttered, finding a suitable parking space and pulling in. You gathered your belongings, including the flowers from the backseat you insisted on bringing for his mother, and vacate the car.

"You're gonna be fine," Aemond smirked, tossing his arm around your neck as you moved up the walkway. "Just be yourself, laugh at their jokes - you'll fit right in."

"I feel like I can't even afford to be here," you whispered, approaching the front door. He chuckled and took your hand, letting you squeeze it tight as he opened the door and lead you inward. "Jesus, Mary Mother, and Joseph," you gaped, eyes bugging wide as the interior.

The term "fancy" didn't even begin to cover it.

And Aemond just smirked at you, amused by your response; knowing your family grew up without money and the nicest thing you owned for years was a Wii that had been purchased from a family-friend for a third of the price. So to see you here, amongst luxury and money, was an absolute treasure to him.

However, that was short lived, because the next thing you noticed was the amount of people milling around. There was at least 13 different people in sight, and for some reason, you knew there was likely many, many more. Aemond lead you into the kitchen, and from there, you could barely keep up.

First, you met his mother, Alicent. She was a kind woman, but stoic and calculating; observant with a quick wit. She intimidated you, made you feel small, burned you under her stare; and since you were dating her favorite child, you knew she was scrutinizing you. You felt desperate for her approval, and when you offered her the large bouquet of flowers, she actually let her lips twitch in a small smile. She thanked your generosity and consideration, making you feel like you had some kind of breakthrough with her.

When Alicent went to put the flowers in water, Aemond assured he thought his mother "adored" you before introducing you to his father - the birthday boy. He was sweet; soft spoken and bright-eyed; all too happy to have a conversation with you. He asked how you and Aemond met, then what you were studying in university, if you liked it, what you wanted to do with your degree. He asked what food was your favorite, if you played sports, about your family, and if you had any hobbies. Viserys Targaryen had a kind soul, making you wonder how he and Alicent remained married.

Though they say opposites attract.

Aemond showed you around the house, stopping to introduce family members; then heading to the backyard where you were drug around to meet the hundred other family members. You were close to tears the whole time, knowing it was his father's birthday, but not knowing how bloody big his fucking family was - and that they'd all show up today. You felt blindsided, it felt like a deliberate withholding of information to convince you to come. You were under the impression it was a family dinner, but now, you understood, it was an actual celebration.

There was people everywhere you looked, everywhere you turned. Voices spoke over one another, children ran around playing tag or jumping on a trampoline; babies cried and screamed, the grill was loud with sizzling meats, and a radio played through intermittent static. Multiple dogs ran around, trailing mud everywhere, even going as far as to shake their coats out to shower bystanders. The smell of charcoal, smoke, and chlorine mingled with that tangy-good scent of BBQ; but it made your eyes sting.

It was a sensory overload.

It was a miracle you hadn't burst into tears yet, but you remained anchored to reality by maintaining a close proximity to Aemond.

You held his hand in a vice grip. You held his bicep with a curled-grip that left fingernail indentations in his skin through the fabric. You held his waist, belt loops, anything you could grab onto in a possessive grip. You constantly touched him to reassure yourself he was still with you; being your anchor to reality, tangible and real since your anxiety drowned you in a sea.

You didn't think it was an issue. Didn't think anyone would notice, so you obviously didn't think anyone would care if they DID notice. You liked touching Aemond, it kept you grounded; if someone had an issue with that, it was 100% just a personal problem. However, plenty of people did notice, and when you sat down for dinner, you were unprepared for the ambush.

Conversation was flowing; food passed around and utensils scraped plates. Drinks sweat into the table cloth, citronella candles twinkled, and laughter was in an abundance as each person found merriment in their family. You were feeling more relaxed, but the truth was, there was so many people here that you felt nauseous enough to only take a few small bites from your plate.

Aemond noticed and met your eyes, subtly opening his hand to you in an offer for comfort. You all but snatched his hand into yours, smiling in thanks as he only smirked broadly and continued eating. You tried to sample what you could, but it was impossible to stomach much of anything. You reached for your water, took a sip, and heard Alicent question your name.

When she had your attention, Alicent asked, "Have you had many boyfriends, dear?"

"Oh, no," you answered honestly, "no, I've gone on dates but Aemond's," you laid your free hand to his bicep, sliding down to take his hand with yours, "my first boyfriend."

She hummed and stabbed her fork into the salad set in front of her, muttering in a lower tone, "Then I guess I can overlook it all."

You cocked your head, setting your glass down, wondering, "Overlook what?"

"The clinginess," she shrugged, reaching for her wine glass. "You've been stuck to his side all day - never even parting to go to the restroom, it seems. So, because he's your first, I can overlook all this... For now."

Your head began to spin like in a bad cartoon. You felt your heart cement and drop to your stomach; throat swelling to suppress either sobs, vomit, or both. The entire table was quiet. "I-I'm sorry, Mrs. Targaryen," you offered in confusion. "I'm sorry if I've offended you, but it's not with malicious intent."

"No?" She mocked.

"No," your head shook vehemently. "I did not realize my actions could be interpreted negatively, and I assume you, it was not my intention to create tension."

"Oh, spare me. You haven't let go of Aemond once all night, and even now, as we all sit for family dinner, you hold his hand hostage; preventing you both from eating. Don't you think he'd like to spend time with his family without needing to make you feel included in every single thing he does or says today?"

You gulped, "I did not mean to offend you nor your family."

"It's not offensive," Helaena Targaryen, Aemond's only sister, tried to intervene. "If you feel uncomfortable in any situation, why not seek out that in which you already know helps comfort you?"

How had it come to this?

"I am not offended," Viserys croaked, "I find young love refreshing."

But this made Alicent rage, "It is offensive when you prevent Aemond from actually visiting with his family. It's his father's birthday for God's sake! We don't have an infinite number of them left! If you want to hang all over him when you're at university, fine, but when you're here? In public? Around family or elders? It's not acceptable behavior, especially when you prevent my son from participating as a member of this family."

Your mouth went dry as you remembered your parents did not raise you to ever tolerate disrespect. If someone offered insult, sure, walk away, but they also taught you to stand up for yourself in particular fights. This felt like one of those fights.

There were also vivid memories long since repressed that flashed you back to your own parents telling you, you were clingy. They didn't want you hanging off them, distracting anyone, being an overall nuisance; so they started fighting your fire with their own. They became verbally aggressive, constantly ridiculing and belittling you; attempting to keep you humble by insulting your character - saying nobody (be it man or woman) would want someone like you. Your baggage was too heavy and you knew it, your parents telling you it was why you felt the need to cling in the first place.

If you held on tight enough, the weight of your trauma would eventually anchor your person in place. It'd be too late to swim away once that anchor sunk.

You looked at Aemond, thinking he'd tell his mother to quiet down, but he never did. He just stared at the table, so, you tossed his hand into his lap - feeling disgusting by his physical touch right now.

It was evident he wasn't going to defend you, so, you defended yourself, "I know you might think it foolish, but the reason I was 'all over' your son was because I was caught off-guard by the number of family members who attended today. I was lead to believe this would be a small, intimate affair so I could properly meet his nuclear family, and when I realized that was not the case, yes, I held onto Aemond because I felt incredibly anxious. I cannot control what makes me uncomfortable, but I was expecting under ten people - not close to a hundred. So, truly, if me seeking solace with my boyfriend upsets you, I am sorry, but I will not apologize for feeling blindsided and misdirected - I will not apologize for feeling anxious and nervous amongst such a large family that I've never met before, and - "

Aemond snapped your name, silencing you instantly out of sheer shock; your eyes widening a fraction. He growled, "That's enough, do not speak to my mother like that."

"So, she's allowed to call me clingy, but I can't - "

"I told you to watch your mouth," he seethed, "and not speak to her like you just were. She made an observation - an accurate one - not out of spite, like you want to do in retaliation."

You scoffed, while glancing between mother and son, nodding slowly. You mutely used your cloth napkin to blot around your lips, swipe your tongue over your teeth as you pushed your chair back and slowly stood. "You know what? I don't need this shit. I refuse to sit here and let you speak to me as if you're holier than thou," you told Alicent, then looking to Aemond, "nor will some mama's boy gaslight me."

Helaena giggled behind her hand as you swiped your purse and phone, turned on your heel, and walked away. Aemond sighed and called your name, standing from his own chair, still trying to slow you down by calling out to you. "Aemond," Alicent snapped when he meant to move after you.

"You've done enough," he told her, jogging after your retreating form while calling your name.

"Nice one, Mum," Aegon scoffed. "That's one way to make sure he doesn't knock her up - just break them up."

"Aegon," Daeron groaned.

"What? Isn't that what she was afraid of? Aemond getting too serious with her?" Aegon snapped. "He's finally happy, and you what? Had to implode that?"

Aegon's words sunk into his mother's heart as Aemond rushed after you, nobody untouched by the things he said.

Outside, you rushed for your car while fumbling with your purse and keys. Aemond followed, still. He finally caught up when you made it to the car, his hand whipping you around to face him.

"I didn't fucking mean it," he rushed, holding you securely in his grasp. "Hear me? I didn't fucking mean it, I-I just wanted the arguing to stop, I know how Mum can get and I didn't want it to escalate. I'm sorry, I'm so sorry, my love, I didn't mean it at you - I just - I panicked - I don't know why. Perhaps we're both still very green to this whole relationship thing."

"Oh! Fuck you," you snapped, pushing him off you.

"Listen to me - "

"No, you're done talking," you raged with your manicured pointer finger jabbing the air between you in a dramatic fashion. "Your mother fully insulted me in front of everyone - your entire family, whom I wasn't even aware I was meeting, nor was I even ready to meet!"

"What?"

"I was willing to meet your parents and siblings. Not your entire extended family! You meet the nuclear family first and when ready to level-up, you bring your significant other around your aunties, uncles, cousins - whatever. You ambushed me," you snapped. "You totally caught me off guard - but instead of apologizing and acknowledging my discomfort, you just carried on on your high horse. You let me hold onto you - yet there was no word about being clingy - and you even reached for my hand a few times! Yet I was the one being slandered and labeled as 'clingy'!? But you know what? That's cool, really fucking cool, that's fine. Like I said before, fuck off. I don't need to be with someone who crumples like a wet piece of paper when Mummy Dearest starts to huff and puff. I need someone who's going to tell their mother to cut it out when they're trying to wrongfully insult me - your girlfriend. Better yet? I need to be with someone whose mother doesn't start on that bullshit! That has respect! Decency! Now get the fuck away from me!"

You shoved him back a few steps to give room for you to open your car door and get in - immediately hitting the automatic locks. You started the engine, put your seatbelt on, took one last look at your first love as he tried to plea with you through the rolled up window, then shifted into gear and pulled away.

You felt your anger boil to a new height when you replayed the entire day. How dare Aemond? How dare he try to manipulate this situation? He had no right to ask you to shut the fuck up while his mother was free to run her mouth! Well, first and foremost, how fucking dare Alicent insult and challenge you in such a public setting? How in the Seven Hells had Helaena been the only one to defend you? What the hell did you even need defending against? Why did you showing affection and needing reliable support upset Alicent that much?

Your phone began to ring, and when you glanced at it, you saw Aemond's contact photo displayed on the screen. You ignored it and put your phone on airplane mode, leaving it on for now. However, after a few long moments of stressful thinking, you turned the setting off and called your sister - knowing no matter what, she'd be your rock. When she answered, you told her a simplified version of events, and at the end, your tears had been triggered and she was encouraging you to come over to her house.

You agreed, shut your phone off this time, and drove to your sister's place. When you arrived, you were shocked to find her waiting in the driveway, opening her arms with a pout when you got out of the car. "C'mere," she cooed, enveloping you in her arms when you stepped into her embrace.

"Why do boys suck?" You whimpered.

"Because that's just how they were programed," she sighed.

"Sh-She called me clingy," you managed through your tears, "his mom called me clingy, a-and Aemond d-didn't defend me. So, when I had to defend myself, he just told me to be quiet 'cause his mother wasn't wrong - or what-the-fuck-ever."

"I know, honey," she sympathized, giving you a squeeze. "What're you thinking?"

"That I can't trust someone like that," you admitted. "And if I can't trust them, why be in a relationship?"

She nodded, "I think you know what you need to do next."

"I don't want to."

"Nobody really wants to, but it's necessary," she held your phone out for you after pulling it from your back pocket. "Don't let him or his mother disrespect you - especially in front of his other family members. I mean, shit, how're you supposed to face any of them again after that?"

"Exactly, his mom didn't exactly do it in private..."

"See?" She stared at you while you sighed, shaking your head. Your sister encouraged, "Make the call. This isn't a sustainable relationship, and Aemond shouldn't have to choose his mother and his girl - so, let's just make it easy on him, and you choose. Wanna be with someone who lets his mother say shit like that to you? Who tells you to be quiet, instead of shutting down his mother's insults?"

You frowned, whispering, "I don't think this is enough to break us up. It shouldn't be, right? This shouldn't be the end-all, be-all, should it?"

"No, honey, but the disrespect cannot stand, either," she shot back. "If he felt so comfortable to say that in front of his family like that, you don't wanna know what he's gonna get comfortable doing in more private settings." Tears filled your eyes as she reminded gently, but firmly, "Make the call."

requesting rules and masterlist

HOTD masterlist

Clingy Baby masterlist

[steddielations]

It's just another boring day running the store, even more boring than normal since Robin’s out sick. There’s not any kids around either, the beanbags by the bookshelves have been empty all day.

Steve’s working his shift alone. It’s all very mundane, just waiting for the clock to run out. That is, until the door flies open.

It’s just a flash of black clothing and the clinking of metal accessories as the figure suddenly barrels right over the counter. Steve shouts and immediately reaches for the nail bat— yes the nail bat— he keeps behind the register. He brandishes it menacingly as the person stands upright.

It’s a man, with crazy wild hair and even crazier eyes, widening comically at the bat and holding his hands up. He squawks at Steve.

“Whoa, hey! What is that thing?! What the hell, man!?”

“Don’t ‘what the hell’ me, I’m the one what the helling you here!” Steve snaps back.

“What!”

“Just tell me what you think you’re doing here, punk!”

Something like disbelief comes over his face, and he lowers his hands to gesture over himself, “Dude, I’m clearly a metalhead.”

“I’m gonna put some metal in your head if you don’t start talking,” Steve snarls, gripping the bat tighter.

“Okay, okay!” His hands flail, shifty eyes bugging out the front windows before he suddenly crouches down behind the counter, “Just let me hide out here for a minute, there’s— people after me that I can’t deal with right now.”

“Oh yeah, what 'people’?” Steve narrows his eyes at the expensive looking chain dangling around his neck, some kind of red pendant on it, “Did you get caught stealing from the jewelry store next door?”

Again, he gives that look, not the typical guilty look when Steve chases down the usual petty thief, he just looks like he can’t believe he’s in this situation, as if he’s not the one that hopped over the counter.

“I didn’t steal anything, alright? I just need to wait here until it’s all clear.”

“Mr. Simon is chasing you, isn’t he?” Steve groans, lowering the bat to rub his hand over his face. He hates that old jeweler, always complaining about Steve taking his parking space when he doesn’t even have a car to use it. “Christ, okay. He might have a war flashback and actually kill you, and I already have enough shit on my conscience. You got two minutes.”

“Five?”

“One and a half.”

“Okay, Jesus. Two please and I’ll let you have a picture after, whatever you want.”

Steve thinks it’s a weird thing to offer at first, then it clicks.

“Yeah, I do want a picture ‘cause your ass is going on the banned wall,” Steve points the bat to the array of photos on the back wall, right up there with the little pricks that kept asking what shelf the skin mags were on, and the asshole that was rude to Robin once.

The guy looks over and he… chuckles, “Starting to think I picked the wrong counter to hide behind.”

Steve glares when he’s met with the stranger’s smile, “You think?”

“The rainbows in the window caught my eye, thought they were pretty cool,” he gives Steve a kind, but measured look, “I’m assuming the bat is for people who don’t?”

That rocks Steve a little. The subtle touches of rainbow decorating the storefront were Robin’s idea, just a welcoming sign for those who know what it means, who need it. Which, apparently, is this guy too, dark eyes watching as Steve makes the connection.

Plus, the kind of kids that get off the bus and hang out in the beanbag corner of the bookstore, also tend to be the type that bullies flock to, but not here, Steve makes sure of that. Not with the nail bat, that’s for things more serious than school bullies.

“Is that who’s after you?” Steve asks, shooting a look out the window. His gut starts to twist in some form of empathy for the guy, it would make sense why he hurtled inside so quickly.

“No, nothing like that, but I still need to lay low for a second.”

Steve squints, empathy gone.

“Okay well, the bat is for thieves too, then. You know, Mr. Simon might be a mean old shit, but he doesn’t deserve to be stolen from. He’s got a family, dude.”

“Well, isn’t that admirable. Look, I appreciate what you’re doing here, the whole local protector, vigilante bat-man thing, it’s pretty badass,” A pun. This would-be thief really just made a damn pun about Steve’s would-be murder weapon. “But I didn’t take anything from anyone, Stevie boy.”

Pun forgotten, Steve grips the bat tighter, demanding to know, “How do you know my name?”

Another annoying smile as the guy gestures to his chest, where Steve’s name tag is. Right.

“Tell me yours,” he counters, noticing how the guy’s smile falters, looking hesitant, crouching lower, hiding. Steve sighs, “I’m not gonna go to the cops, man. Your face is going on the wall and your name is going on the list.”

This guy is just smirking way too much for someone in his situation, “Wow, I must be real special then. It’s Eddie. Eddie Munson.”

“Okay then, Munson,” Steve narrows his eyes at the necklace again, “If you didn’t take anything, then where’d you get that chain, huh?”

This Eddie looks caught off guard, his mouth already formed into some excuse that Steve cuts off.

“Just hand it over,” he flourishes the bat this time, satisfied with how Eddie looks both impressed and intimidated. His eyes stay on Steve as he removes the necklace, dark and alive with something, like he’s enjoying this somehow.

“Okay fine, easy with that thing, big boy. You can keep it for now as collateral for letting me stay.”

He passes Steve the chain, and Steve doesn’t want to fuss with his jean pockets so he just slips it over his head, Eddie’s eyes tracking where it falls around his neck. He sees it’s not a pendant like he thought, it’s a red guitar pick resting against his chest. Not Simon’s usual merchandise, but the chain definitely is, it’s expensive, Steve can tell.

“But, as good as it looks on you, I’m gonna need it back when you realize it’s not stolen.”

Annoyance. That’s the flare of heat Steve feels, it has to be, this whole exchange is getting him hot under the collar. He obviously knows Eddie’s hitting on him, not the first time he caught someone up to no good, and they clocked the rainbows and tried to flirt their way out of it. And this guy isn’t bad looking, maybe under different circumstances in a nice bar somewhere, Steve would flirt right back, but he’s not falling for it now.

He’s glad the couple minutes are up, doesn’t know why he checks out the windows to make sure it’s all clear for Eddie.

Bat still in hand, he makes Eddie stand while he fishes out the polaroid camera behind the counter.

“Don’t you want to get in the photo?” Eddie asks.

Steve’s free hand snaps to his hip, “And why would I want that?”

“Right,” Eddie grins, sticking out his tongue when Steve holds up the camera, throwing up that same hand sign that Dustin keeps making nowadays when the flash goes off. “No fun kissin’ a picture of yourself. Or, maybe it is when you look like you do.”

Steve rolls his eyes, “Playing cute with me isn’t gonna get you off the hook,” and sits the newly printed polaroid on the counter, ignoring the way his cheeks feel hot. It’s just the adrenaline coming down.

He finally puts the bat away, still watching warily as Eddie comes closer, picking up a pen and scribbling what looks to be his phone number on the photo.

“Gotta say, this was nice, Steve. I’d love to do it again sometime,” he smirks, hopping back over the counter the same way he came, “I mean it though, give me a call about that necklace. What kinda rockstar would I be without my lucky guitar pick?”

“Yeah right,” Steve snorts, “I don’t wanna catch you around here again. I never forget a face, Munson, especially not yours.”

“I’m flattered,” he pats his hand over his heart, then throws Steve a wave as he pushes open the door, “Keep that up and you can call me anytime.”

One last wink that sort of makes Steve’s chest flutter and he’s gone. It’s nothing, just some crazy guy that annoyed him half to death, and he hopes he never sees again.

When his shift ends later that evening, he goes next door to try and return the necklace to Mr. Simon, but he insists that it wasn’t stolen from his shop.

Steve’s starting to think he may have accidentally robbed someone at nail-bat-point. But it’s not possible because that’s not possible. How do you accidentally rob someone? What crime would he even be charged with? A little oopsie burglary? Ridiculous.

No, the old man is just out of his mind and doesn’t recognize his own shit. It’s the only thing that would make sense in that whole bizarre situation. Who else would Eddie have been ‘hiding’ from? Why else was it so urgent that he handed over the necklace without much fuss?

It’s not until days later when Dustin hops onto the counter that Steve really realizes.

“Steve,” Dustin says slowly, “Why am I looking at a picture of Eddie freaking Munson on the banned wall?”

Steve looks around, “That guy? You know him? I caught him stealing from Mr. Simon the other day.”

“You— He— What!? He was here?” Dustin sputters, “Steve, I’m 1000% sure he wasn’t stealing shit! What did you do to him?”

“I did my job, Henderson. I banned him from the store and got back the necklace he took— What— Why are you looking at me like that?”

“Steve.”

It’s over the course of the next conversation, getting completely chewed up and spit out by Dustin that Steve learns he didn’t just accidentally rob someone.

“STEVE.”

He accidentally robbed a world famous rockstar.

Steve spends the next few days so deeply embarrassed that he can’t even dare to pick up the phone. He gave Eddie such a hard time when all he needed was a place to hide out so he didn’t get mobbed by fans and paparazzi.

Looking back on it, knowing what he knows now, Eddie handled it with such grace. Steve’s even more ashamed, not because of the whole rockstar thing, but because it's shitty to hurl accusations and a deadly nail bat at anyone, and take their stuff on top of that.

He finally bolsters up the courage to dial the number. As soon as he hears ‘what’s up, it’s Munson’ on the other line, he lets loose a string of apologies and a promise to give the necklace back as soon as he can.

It gets cut short with that same chuckle that still gives him a warm chill even down the phone line.

“Keep it. Looks better on you,” he can hear the smile in Eddie’s voice, “But that means you’re gonna have to come to my show tonight. Can’t play without my lucky guitar pick, can I?”

[zweiginator]

Drunk sex w patrick after a party perhaps???? Like you both get wasted and it’s just super messy and sloppy and hot 🤞🏻🩷😗

you both having the most massive crush on each other but you’re both way too stubborn to admit it. literally won’t make the first move. but as soon as alcohol is involved at this party you’re at— anything is game.

You shouldn’t even like him—he’s rude and cocky and has had everything in his life handed to him on a silver platter. but he’s addicting. those pretty green eyes and how his muscles ripple underneath his shirt.

he comes up to you and asks you bluntly, with a drunken slur: “why haven’t we fucked yet?”

“how fucking drunk are you?” you’re getting there too—but lord, Patrick has no filter on his words or how he’s looking at you right now. it’s making you starve for him.

“drunk words are sober feelings or whatever that quote is.” He stumbles into you a bit. “but actually—I know you want me.”

Again, with the cockiness.

“you sure?” you stand closer to him; he’s clearly looking down your shirt.

“I know you do.” so fuck me already.”

plenty of people are looking at the two of you; they’re ready to intervene, but you like his attention. You despise how much you fucking need it.

you feel his forehead; a plan comes to mind.

“are you okay? you look pale.”

“stop trying to change the subject.”

you grab his hand. “here, let’s get you to the bathroom.”

the door shuts.

“I’m not-im not sick. ‘m fine.” Patrick says.

“I know.” you pull him by the collar of his button up, using your other hand to fumble the buttons open.

“oh fuck.” he smiles at your desperation.

you kiss down his chest until you get to his belt. looking up at him, he looks perfect. abs flexed and toned, lips red and bitten. the veins in his arms protrude as he holds onto the sink for purchase.

his cock is heavy on your tongue, and you suck on the head, looking up at him. your eyes water as you push him deeper and deeper down your throat. when you lick down his shaft and suck on his balls, spit dribbling down your chin, Patrick is so loud you have to tell him to shut up.

but he can’t—and he doesn’t want to.

he pulls you to his level and kisses you hard, tasting himself on your tongue as he spits and drools into your mouth. groans as his fingers feel how wet your cunt is.

“fuck me.” he says. he’s almost begging. “fuck me here.”

you get him on the floor and he pushes your panties to the side, lining his weeping cock to your entrance.

“wait-“ you say. “The door’s unlocked.”

he pulls you close so your forehead is touching his. “don’t care.”

you sink down on him slowly, slowly and then all at once. he’s so fucking big and you almost want to tell him. but he knows from the look on your face, how your cunt stretches around him.

his hips buck up into you and he won’t shut up. his pleasure along with his drunkenness has him literally drooling for you.

you don’t know what comes over you, but you shove your fingers into his mouth and slap him hard with your other hand. “shut up or I won’t fuck you ever again.”

“oh Jesus Christ-��� Patrick doesn’t listen to you. Of course he doesn’t. “Bull fucking shit.”

he smirks up at you, his hands finding your hips to fuck up into you.

you test the water; you like how he responds to your dirty talk, how he wants you to take control.

“such a dirty fucking boy.” you tell him, grabbing his jaw.

he nods, his mouth hanging open as a cracked moan comes out.

“all yours—please fuck me harder.”

“open your mouth.”

it’s almost funny how fast he’s listening now. you spit onto his tongue and his hips buck up, his balls loud against your ass. Pre cum drips out of your cunt and down your legs.

“I’m cumming—where do i?”

you pull off of him and suck him into his mouth, feeling his hot cum spurt onto your tongue, into the back of your throat. some lands on the corner of your mouth, and Patrick gathers it with his thumb and sucks it into his mouth.

“next time, I’m fucking you.”

“who said there’s a next time?” You pull your dress down.

“i did.”

[denwritesandcries]

Later we'll fall because of this – H.C

Pairing: loser!hazel x fem!reader

Summary: Maybe you should have considered what it actually meant to get in a relationship with Hazel, especially a fake one, before you said yes, because now you're falling deep and deep in it and you don't know what to do.

Word count: 5,5k.

Content: cursing, fake dating, kisses, pining, slightly angst, miscommunication, unhealthy situationships, mentions of blood, hazel sends mixed signs (unknowingly), reader is a LOSER, insecure!hazel, flirting, dumb teenagers.

Note: This shouldn't have taken so long since I had all the story planned already, but august was just… crazy, jesus. Anyway, hope y'all enjoy and thanks for being so patient and supportive with this small series, it really means the world to me.

English is not my first language.

<<

You barely register what happens through the rest of the night, returning home with your head completely flustreaded and your heart pounding in your throat, a goldfish in a fragile plastic bag on your shaking hands and a single text from Isabel when you finally fall into bed.

[josie told me what happened

you're welcome btw]

Well, fuck.

Maybe you should have considered what it actually meant to get in a relationship with Hazel, especially a fake one, before you said yes, because now you’re standing outside the school, nervously clutching the straps of your backpack and not having the courage to go in and face what’s to come.

Still, you do it, because Hazel asked to meet you at your locker before classes started and ignoring her now would just be rude – as if you could ignore her in the first place – so you put your head up and walk down the halls feeling like everyone is staring at you.

And she’s waiting just like she said she would, swaying from foot to foot and seemingly searching for something in the crowd of students. The ear-to-ear grin Hazel gives you when she sees you coming makes your anxiety ease a little.

You greet her a little hesitantly, it’s not like you’ve spoken much since the fair, so you’re not sure how to avoid making things awkward.

Apparently, neither does she, “Hi!” Hazel answers, a little too loudly, before cringing and looking around, as if at any second someone might come along and expose the lie you’re about to tell. Clearing her throat, she starts again, “So, I just wanted to know if it’s okay for me to start walking you between periods now, or— or maybe give you a ride after school, I mean, I know that you usually take the bus but,” Hazel begins to ramble, “I thought that would be more convincing, since, you know, that’s what couples do and—”

“Haze, it's okay,” you interrupt, resting a reassuring hand on her shoulder instinctively, brushing some lint off the hodie she's wearing to keep yourself from overthinking it, “Yes. For both things. It's not like we've never done that before, right?”

“...Right,” she looks down at your hand where it's rubbing circles on her shoulder, blinking in realization, “You're right!” she groans, “We already do all this stuff, how are people going to buy it if nothing changes between us? How will PJ?” You try to hold grimacing at the mention and Hazel rests her hands in her head in panic, “Fuck. We should've planned this before we got here, I'm a terrible liar.”

You really should have and she really is a terrible liar. Great, now you're getting nervous too. That's what happens when two anxious teenagers decide to do something on impulse. Just great.

“Okay,” you take a deep breath, someone has to take charge here, “Why don’t we just play along today without elaborating on anything for everyone? Then when class is over we can go to my place and plan everything properly together.”

Hazel relaxes a little at your words and nods, “Yeah, yeah. Sounds good,” she clears her throat, “So, I guess we’ll just have to wing it for today then.”

“It was your idea, sweetheart,” you shrug, “We’ll get through this day.”

The first bell rings and Hazel takes on a determined expression, nodding, she turns, gently taking the bag hanging from your shoulder and placing it next to hers, ignoring your confused look to extend a hand to you, “C’mon, we better not be late this time.”

And you go.

It takes a moment for you to absorb the gasps of excitement and surprise that come when you and Hazel enter Mr. G’s class, too busy cataloging the way her hand feels in yours to pay any real attention to your surroundings. Hazel’s hand is cold and a little damp from flutter, you can perfectly feel the outline of the loose rings on your intertwined fingers and it feels simply perfect. It’s different then other times you’ve held hands, as if she wanted to transmite another kind of feeling. As if she wanted to show it off.

Hazel’s voice sounding close to your ear brings you back into the moment, she squeezes your hands together with an excited whisper: “I think it’s gonna work, she’s already looking at us.”

And sure enough, there’s PJ when you look up, sitting on the edge of the seat with her gaze burning into your hands, Josie watching the scene next to her with a raised eyebrow.

There’s also Sylvie and Annie, a bit perplexed but still cheering from their seats, not giving a damn about the students they don’t know coming into the room to actually try to study.

“What is that?” Sylvie slaps her hands on the table excitedly as you sit next to her and Hazel hands you your backpack, “You guys are a thing now? Dude, that’s awesome!”

“So you did listen to me,” Annie nods to Hazel in approval, “I told you that it had better options. Good job, Haze.”

Hazel lets out an awkward laugh, accepting the teasing with a red face and you stand there, shy and a little confused. You didn’t expect them to react so… genuinely happy, as if you hadn’t all been talking about her liking someone else just a few days ago, in fact, you expected a barrage of questions and suspicious looks. Well, who knows, maybe luck was just on your side with that.

(You kick Jeff's chair hard when the teacher isn't looking as you hear him laughing with his stupid friends about "the freak finally getting a girlfriend", giving Hazel an innocent smile when she turns around with a questioning look at the noise.)

The day passed peacefully, with Hazel walking you to every period, rushing to carry your bag and open doors for you, smiling brightly at your nods of approval and making sure to hold your hand at every opportunity.

It was really sweet to have someone do that for you, to try so hard. It made you feel like a schoolgirl in love and sighing in the hallways – which, for what it’s worth, you were – a warm, timid feeling filling your chest every time she came into view. During lunch she put an arm around you, happily chatting with everyone, taking your hand to play with your fingers once PJ was there too. You almost managed to swallow the bitter taste in your mouth and enjoy it fully – almost.

Now you were both leaving, absently commenting on the reactions you had elicited and you're thinking about what topics to cover when you get home to discuss and match stories, you had to make sure you were on the same page.

“Psst,” Hazel calls as you reach her car, opening the passenger door for you and placing a gentle hand on your shoulder to stop you from getting in.

You frown at her upset expression, following her gaze to find the scene she’s staring at the other side of the parking lot.

“Oh,” it’s Josie, Isabel, Brittany, and PJ, of course, but this time with a new addition. The cheerleader Hazel mentioned before, clinging to the arm of a very pleased-looking PJ, “Shit, I’m sorry, Haze.”

Her lips press into a thin line and you feel a pang in your chest at how uncomfortable she is about this, but you can’t say anything because Brittany spots you and waves goodbye as she walks to her own car. And now all of your friends have seen you both too.

“They’re looking,” Hazel mumbles. She seems closer, even though you haven’t heard her approach. Her hand is still holding the door, she's almost leaning over your body.

“I've noticed,” you whisper back. You don't know why your voice suddenly got low, a shiver runs down your spine as you feel her touch moving up your arm.

Hazel leans in even closer, her breath is warm against your face. You gulp.

“She's looking.”

Maybe it was pretty naive, or stupid, that you started dating someone – whether it was fake or not – with the intention of showing it off and not having considered for a second that you would kiss that person, like, actually kiss them. It was just a small detail that your mind chose to so carefully ignore for the sake of your sanity. And that you shouldn't freak out about it, since in theory you've done this before. Still, here you are.

Hazel gets impossibly closer, bringing the hand running down your arm gently to rest on your cheek and you melt in the roughness of her touch, feeling the cold on your warm skin. Your breath hitches as Hazel looks deeply at you, searching for something that she seems to find when you close your eyes in anticipation.

It's all a matter of seconds, but time seems to freeze in the most cliché way when Hazel's lips meet yours for the first time. Her mouth feels warm and soft, a few strands of hair falling through her forehead tickle your face and you can't believe this is real. You swear your heart could explode at any moment with how fast it's beating and it would be totally worth dying for the way you feel right now.

And then when you sigh, about to put a hand on her waist to deepen the kiss, the moment is over and Hazel is pulling away with a little smirk to the driver's side.

You hear Isabel clapping her hands provocatively in the background, but you're too mortified to react in any way other than shakily getting into the car.

What are you doing with your life?

You’re pulled out of your reverie when Hazel stops at a red light, having been silent for most of the short drive, head leaning against the window.

“I’m sorry,” she clears her throat hastily and you look up in confusion, “I— I should’ve asked before kissing you like that. We haven’t talked about this yet, if it was okay or not and I keep doing things without telling you about it. I’m scared I might have crossed the line now ‘cause you still haven’t said a word about it.”

Hazel thinks you’re mad at her. That calm, intense demeanor she seemed to have assumed for a moment is nowhere to be found and you notice the way her hands nervously grip the steering wheel, doing everything she can to keep from looking at you directly. Hazel thinks you’re mad at her, when in fact it couldn’t be more opposed to it.

It’s just that you can’t stop thinking about the kiss. The feeling of her lips lingers on yours like a ghostly touch as the scene replays in your mind over and over.

And you’re bubbling inside. It’s a new thing you never seriously believed you’d share with her one day. In your most vulnerable moments, you knew your fantasies about kissing Hazel were nothing more than that. The real thing, however, was different than what you imagined. All-consuming, completely addictive, and it left you shocked, disturbed.

Because you wanted more.

How could you experience having all of this only for reality to knock on your door and you realize it wouldn’t be for as long as you wanted? You wondered how it would end after this.

You were fucked.

“No! I'm not mad at you!” You exclaim, trying not to turn into a mess, “You didn't cross any line. It's just that, uhm…” your body seems to heat up from your face to your chest in embarrassment. How do you tell someone you just had your first kiss when it all happened like it was nothing? “It was sudden and I… well— I've never kissed anyone before that.”

You said the wrong thing.

“What?”

“Haze.”

Hazel seems to freeze for a moment, eyes wild and nostrils flaring, the exact expression of someone who is about to freak out. Her face turns evidently red.

“What?”

You rush to stop the spiral she's in: “Haze, it's okay. It's no big deal, seriously.”

“I— I stole your first kiss?” She's completely panicked now, “Oh my god, Y/N, I'm sorry. I'm so sorry.”

You don’t know how to tell her that apologies only make you feel bad, that you wish it wasn’t a regret for her, because after all it wasn’t one for you.

“Sweetheart, please,” you try again, instinctively placing your hand on her arm, “It’s alright. It was good, I can’t think of anyone else who would have treated me so gently like that. And you didn’t know, okay? It wasn’t on purpose.”

Hazel gulps, clearly drowned in guilt, her gaze dropping to where your hand is touching her and back to your face, suddenly shy. You pull away as if you’ve been burned, but neither of you can say anything because what feels like the longest red light in history finally turns green and a car behind you honks and swears loudly.

She clears her throat, turning back to driving:

“I still should have asked anyway.”

You snort: “If you had asked me, I still would have said yes.”

“Oh, okay.”

As if you couldn’t make things any more weirder. Great.

Hazel looks flustered and desperate to break out of the tension that’s settled over the car:

“But,” she mumbles in a perplexed tone, “What about that time you and Sylvie got locked in the pantry on Stella’s birthday? I thought…”

Maybe at this point you should just jump out of this moving car and buy a shovel, since you’re so spectacularly good at digging your own grave.

“We promised to never talk about that again.”

“Right.”

You both only speak again once you’re back in your room and you end up snapping with Hazel when all she does is sit on the bed with her eyes stuck on the floor, a whirlwind of thoughts so obvious in her head that you can almost hear them. You end up stuttering something like ‘you said you’d come over so we could talk and now you’re going to spend the whole time in silence?’

Hazel still looks very uneasy, as if she expects you to change your mind and yell at her at any minute, but she relaxes a little when she notices you letting her guide the conversation at her own pace.

You decide to formulate a simple story just in case your friends decide they want details and ask about it. Yes, you’ve just gotten together a couple days ago; Yes, you’ve liked each other for a long time and were just too much of a coward to admit it; No, you haven’t been on your first official date (yet). Basic and realistic, nothing that would raise suspicions or that you could end up messing, because if there was one thing you knew for certain in all this time knowing each other, it was that Hazel was terrible at sustaining acts for long.

Hazel also makes a point of asking you thousands of times what was okay or not in terms of PDA, checking you for any sign of discomfort that might be being omitted – you said that everything was fine, as long as she asked you or gave some sign first, which she swore she would do.

It's only when Hazel is gathering her things to leave that you ask perhaps the most important question about everything, watching her put the bag on her shoulder and push the hair out of her eyes. She looks beautiful.

"How long do you think this will last, Haze?"

She hums, a little uncertain and suddenly thoughtful: "Until it works out, I guess? I think we'll just have to make sure that it happens fast," she licks her lips, "I... I'll make it up to you for this, okay? For all of this.”

You mumble an agreement, staring at her as she says goodbye and walks away.

You feel too anxious to sleep, your heart pounding against your throat irritably as you roll restlessly over the blankets once more. You come across your desk, where the aquarium with your goldfish swims in circles. Poor thing, you should give it a bigger house, maybe with a den to hide in, just like you want to do now.

You can't stop reliving the moments of the day, every second spent with Hazel comes right back to you. Hands holding, gentle acts, soft gazes, the kiss. The goddamn kiss.

You ponder for a long moment if it would be worth it to enjoy what would come next if PJ actually made a move and you had your fake breakup – which would probably hurt like a real one – so that Hazel would be free to move on. Would you be happy for her? You weren't sure.

You weren't sure of much, but just thinking about them being together in the hallways, acting and touching like you just did a few hours ago for the rest of the year until graduation makes you sick. Would you still be as close as you are now? It might be a little awkward being friends with your ex, especially if her current partner kind of hates you already.

Sighing, you reach for your phone on your desk, scrolling through it to find a spam of texts in your group chat with your friends. You snort, of course they wouldn't stay quiet after the parking lot scene, as if they would miss out on gossip like that.

10 unread messages

annie (with an I)

[guys I've heard the gays gave a show in the exit today]

britt-britt

[they did but y/n wont answer any of my texts and its been hoursss

omg do you think they died on the way back??]

annie (with an I)

[what??? no. definitely not]

slaylvie

[oh maybe she's just too busy with her NEW GIRLFRIEND

stealing the girl all to ysf that was such a queen move fr]

isabeautiful

[she's probably just ignoring us britt it's not like she can't read or smth]

britt-britt

[u sure?

oh ur probably right

wait can u read y/n or are you like that one lady from glee]

Y/N silenced the group.

slaylvie

[now that's just fckng rude.]

You definitely won't reply to anything after this long and chaotic day, especially not about the subject you want to get off your mind, instead, you huff and open the private chat with Isabel after seeing the proud text she sent earlier.

[you've planned all of this since the beginning, didn't you?]

She replies in the next second:

[you only realized it now?]

Hazel keeps her promise of what she said about making it up to you and the next few weeks are uneventful. It’s almost natural how your routine adapts quickly to the new things.

Holding hands in the hallways, sticky notes with sweet words stuck on your locker, good morning and good night texts, arms around each other when you sit down at lunch or at the club, kisses – even though they don’t happen as often as you would like – Isabel even manages to convince you to go on a double date soon and even though Hazel makes a point of touching you or talking loudly about your plans whenever PJ’s around, she doesn’t whine about it to you anymore, which strangely feels like a victory.

A very short-lived victory, since you end up with a chapped lip because of it.

You honestly hadn’t seen it coming. It was just another afternoon of club practice, your meetings had been cut short for a while – the school had to punish you somehow after Huntington – and you’d finally gotten back into the swing of things with the fighting and the exercises and no one had gotten hurt besides a few bruises on their wrists.

Until PJ declared that she would be your partner.

You’d noticed how she’d been acting lately, responding to everyone in her typical passive-aggressive way and glaring at you with a sour expression whenever Hazel was around and finding excuses to touch her whenever possible, a result of all your displays of affection and the gossiping your friends were sure to do when you weren’t hearing.

You thought Hazel would be pleased with this since it was a sign that the plan was working, but she seemed oddly uncomfortable, bringing up the subject less and less. In fact, you’re pretty sure there was once or twice when she simply took your hand and led you somewhere else.

Maybe that gave your stupid heart the false hope you tried so hard not to cling to and made you sigh even more lovingly when you laid eyes on her and it's likely that you weren't the only one who noticed it.

That could explain PJ's loud steps approaching with her fists clenched at her sides as you, Isabel and Hazel tried to reach a consensus on which ice cream shop to go to next weekend, waiting for Josie to finish her round from where she was furthest away to vote too, and it explains her insistence even after you lied and said you had already agreed to go against Annie later – which was also a bad idea, that girl knows how to do more than just throw a few punches.

She didn't take no for an answer and even Hazel seemed hesitant to let you go, pulling you close and trying to convince PJ that maybe it would be better if she went to help some new members with their moves. It didn't work, of course, but the concern in her voice melted your heart a little.

So you've ended up in a circle with your teammates cheering loudly and the first punch that hits you makes your head snap to side with a loud crack, your gaze falling on Mr. G, engrossed in his phone at the back of the court.

Well, you think, at least your funeral won't happen without the supervision of a – partially – responsible adult.

You hit back just as hard as she did, but you end up lying on your back on the mat in pain anyway, listening to your teammates, oblivious to the tension, congratulate PJ on her easy win. Damn, she really took all her amassed anger out on you.

“Are you okay?” Hazel’s worried face fills your vision and you groan as she gently pulls you to sit up, cupping your face gently, “You’re bleeding.”

“I’ll live,” you joke, but she doesn’t seem to find it funny, tilting your chin up to inspect it better, lips pressed into a thin line.

Suddenly, you saw PJ approaching with an expression that failed to not look proudly – if the little smirk on the corner of her mouth said anything – even with the bruises forming that you left on her, she leaned over and patted Hazel on the shoulder, making a provocative comment that you didn't bother to pay attention to, as if she expected Hazel to congratulate her too and that was enough for her expression to change completely. Her forehead furrowed, her nose twitched in disbelief and you could feel the way her hands shook a little with pent-up anger where they descended to your shoulders.

“What the hell is wrong with you?”

Both you and PJ widened eyes, not expecting the explicit bite in her voice. It was unbelievable that Hazel would be rude to anyone, much less to the shocked girl in front of her.

PJ didn’t seem to really understand why there would be anything wrong with what she just did and that almost made you feel bad for her, but anyone should know better than to tease a stressed-out Hazel.

She coughs, clearly embarrassed:

“Jeez! You never know how to take a joke,” she holds up her hands in placation, looking indignant, before fixing her eyes on you, “We were just playing, it was fun, right?”

If you were less petty, maybe you would have nodded and moved on for the sake of your crush’s potential dream relationship but honestly? It’s hard to give a fuck about any of those things when you think about how swollen and bruised your face will be on the day you’re supposed to have the closest thing to a cliché, cute date before graduation.

“For you, maybe.”

She rolls her eyes and looks like she wants to say something else, but Josie comes over and quickly wraps an arm around her shoulders, apologizing and dragging her away to avoid any further discussion with a grimace on her face. It’s only then that you notice the curious looks of your friends at the scene.

Hazel takes a deep breath, biting her lip nervously and looking suddenly embarrassed, before moving to help you up.

“C’mon,” she clears her throat, “Let’s take care of you.”

Hazel is upset.

She hadn’t been quiet for a single second the entire time you’d arrived at the infirmary, having spent the entire journey there mumbling incoherently. Now she had one hand firmly resting on your knee on the stretcher she’d insisted you take, while the tired-looking nurse tried to explain that none of your injuries were serious enough for anything more than bandages and an ice pack – which you’d already tried to tell Hazel, but to no avail.

“Are you sure she’s okay?” she asked for the millionth time, and you could practically feel the effort the nurse was making not to sigh.

“Yes.” She replied, pulling a box of kids' band-aids from her uniform pocket to give it to you, “She didn’t hit her head when she fell, did she? So all you have to do is clean up the blood and wait for the cuts to heal.”

“Okay, hm-hm,” Hazel nods quickly, effectively dismissing the nurse, “I can do that.”

This time the nurse does sigh and give up, mumbling about not getting paid enough before leaving the room – definitely to get a moment away from the annoying teenagers she's seeing all day – and then you’re alone.

Hazel finally goes quiet and her face scrunches up in concentration as she grabs a damp cloth so she can wipe away the red staining of your face and something twists in your stomach.

She hasn’t spoken directly to you since you left and something twists in your stomach at that.

She’s mad at me, you think.

It was obvious that you couldn’t control yourself, painfully obvious that something was going to happen and that you were going to ruin everything because of your temper and your inability to keep your mouth shut. You made this bed, now it’s time to accept the fact that, first, you suck at making beds, and, second, you have to lie in it. Both figuratively and literally. Well, it's a stretcher, but still.

“I'm sorry, Haze,” you say regretfully, holding her hands working on your face in place so she stops and turns her attention back to you.

“Hm?” She lifts her head looking surprised, as if only then remembering you were there too, “For what?”

You look away embarrassed, biting the inside of your cheek: “I didn't mean to ruin things with PJ back there, I know that she was finally doing something and…”

“Wait,” her eyes widened, “Wait, wait, wait, you think I'm mad at you?”

You blink, hesitant: “You're not?”

“No, of course not!” Hazel grabs your shoulders frantically, “You just got beat up, why would I be mad at you?”

You shrug wordlessly, feeling a weird sensation of a deja-vú and Hazel releases you to rest her hands on the stretcher in exasperation.

“Oh, man,” she sighs. “I'm angry with PJ for what she did and I'm angry at myself for letting it happen.”

“But… I thought you'd like that she got jealous,” you fidget, confused, “She finally made a move, right?”

“Not like that! How would I be happy with her getting so possessive that she decided to take it as an excuse to hit you?” Hazel asks incredulously, looking at you like she's tired of even thinking about it, “That was completely out of line, this is not a PG13 gay version of After.”

You freeze for a second before bursting into laughter, ignoring the burning sensation on your lip that the action causes, and Hazel sits down next to you, seemingly satisfied that she’s wiped the worry from your face.

“Ugh, I don’t know,” she groans, running a hand through her hair looking lost.

“Don’t know what, sweetheart?” you turn to her, shoulders touching.

Hazel shakes her head as if trying to push away the thoughts that are bothering her, busying herself by opening one of the bandages for you:

“If I still want this,” she starts hesitantly, “I thought I wouldn’t mind if she kept being mean to me every now and then as long as she showed me that she liked me more, but I— I don’t want that to happen if it’s hurting you. I don’t want to be with someone who would hurt you.”

Your throat is dry. Hazel looks up to catch your eye and places the bandage on a cut on your chin, her hand stays there and you can hear your heart pounding against your ears.

Does she mean…? You're breathing fast, her face is so close to yours that you can feel the heat radiating from her skin. This has to be a dream or some kind of bad joke, maybe you did hit your head and are in a coma right now. You swear everything is in slow motion and there's a cheesy song playing deep inside of your mind. God, if only you hadn't fallen so hard.

You think back to all the moments you've shared so far, years and years of touching and spending time together, learning details about each other and trying to think of the part you missed when Hazel started looking at you like that, does she even know she's doing it? You think, searching deep in your memories, how could you miss that?

Maybe it was earlier this week, when she came up to you happily skipping and handed you a paper flower with the utmost pride she could muster that she had made it herself, because 'You said you always wanted to receive flowers, but you didn't say what kind, so I made you a special one.’

Or days ago, when she started leaving silly little notes stuck to your stuff, even though you saw her all the time; ‘see u later!’ in messy handwriting, ‘have a good day’ scrawled with a cartoon taped to the cover of your math notebook, ‘i'll be thinking of u’ on the locker door she just left you in, a stupid pun written in neon marker just because.

Was it before that? When she kissed you then? Before? Long before?

“Haze,” you call.

When did the possibility of her loving you become real?

“I thought I wanted it,” Hazel murmurs, “But I'm not sure anymore.”

She's going to kiss you. There's no one around now and she's going to kiss you because she wants it, not to show off. And you want it too, more than anything.

You move your hand to find purchase on her chest, grabbing a fistful of the shirt she's wearing. Your noses are brushing now, Hazel’s eyes narrow and you can almost taste her.

Then the nurse walks into the room, dropping the papers she was carrying when she sees the scene and the moment is completely lost.

She shoos you both out of the room, no matter how many stammered excuses you try to give her and you and Hazel trade shocked looks alone in the hallway before laughing as hard as you never did. The sound fills your ears, it’s completely divine. You laugh and laugh and laugh and you’ve never felt so happy, feeling your stomach flutter with butterflies when you feel her hand brush against yours, that she’s still here.

The laughter stops as it steals your breath – it wasn’t the only thing that stole it – and you feel cold where your skin was warm just a second ago, turning your head to find her a few feet away from you.

“Are you alright?” You ask, smiling, feeling light, as if you weighed the same as the paper flower stored in your bag.

She stares at you, hair messy, face red, clothes wrinkled and eyes full of emotion that you can't distinguish with how quickly they pass. You wonder what she's gonna do, if she's going to press you against the wall and kiss you here in this hallway like she wanted before, if she's going to take your hands and tell you that she wasn't sure about things, but wanted to find out with you. Another emotion flashes in her eyes as she takes another step back, the only one you can recognize: regret.

Hazel turns and runs away from there. She leaves.

Luck has been on your side for a long time during all of this, so of course at some point everything would end up going wrong. And you, of course, would end up in the crossfire.

[cryptidghostgirl]

Heya! I just found you and I knew that I immediately had to put in a request!! May I ask for Alastor x chubby reader?? With hurt and comfort?? Where a random demon makes her feel bad for being chubby and Alastor comforts her AND CONFESSES that he's in love with her 🙇🏻‍♀️🙇🏻‍♀️🙇🏻‍♀️ and then in true Alastor fashion he rips the demon apart for making reader feel bad PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE

A/N of course!! this is good vibes. yes. 11/10 for the adorable scale. I've been writing so much angst,, the fluff request is so welcome. ALSO THIS GIF I FOUND FOR THE IMAGE OF THIS STORY IS SO CUTE WTF.

Sweet (Alastor x Chubby!Reader)

Pairing: Alastor x Reader

Warnings: Hurt//comfort, tw for body image stuff/issues, gore but make it cute, uh... fluff. Sickeningly sweet fluff. Extra TW body image stuff. May or may not have channeled some of my ten years experience with eds into this one besties, sorry about that.

Word Count: 3,330

Master Lists:

Master Lists 

Hazbin Hotel Master List

The truth of it was: Y/n knew exactly how pretty she was. That didn't keep it from hurting when people made unprovoked, snide remarks about her weight. More than one thing can be true at the same time.

She was kind of used to it by now. People in the human world had been rude on occasion, she'd had doctors occasionally act discriminatorily towards her because of her weight, a shitty date or partner or two who told her to lose it, but it had been nothing in comparison to Hell. It was Hell after all, home to the worst of the worst. Y/n tried to toughen up, thicken her skin. After a life on earth and another fifteen years down below she couldn't help but feel like it shouldn't hurt anymore. It still always did.

This one had been particularly bad. Y/n had stepped out of the hotel, intent on meeting a friend for lunch. She'd gotten all dressed up for it too, in her favorite outfit with her makeup done all pretty. She hadn't just felt good stepping out, she'd known she was hot. There had been a spring in her step and a coy smile on her face as she lowered her heart shaped sunglasses from the top of her head.

Five minutes, four blocks. That's all it took.

"Jesus, who let you outside in that?" the man had laughed, "Cover that shit up, I'm gonna vomit."

Y/n had sent her friend a text, saying she wasn't feeling well. She had apologized and asked to reschedule. Y/n had gone home.

Angel Dust had tried to approach her as she had stormed into the lobby but, she had brushed him off, rushing to her room. Y/n hand't meant to be rude. She had every intention of finding him later to apologize, the tears had just been pressing hotly behind her eyes and she needed to be alone. She loved Angel, trusted him, through of him as a brother but god, she did not want to cry in front of him. Not right now anyways, not over something so... so... stupid.

Y/n slammed the door to her room harshly behind her as she entered it, throwing herself onto the bed and burying her face in the pillow. In the comfort of pinks and piles of stuffed animals, she sobbed.

It wasn't even the comment that was getting to her anymore, although it had been a particularly awful one. No, what was upsetting her now was how she'd let it get to her. She felt stupid and weak and more than anything in the world she just wanted to rip the clothes off her body along with her skin and disappear from the physical world.

Her shoulders shook harshly, the pillow now damp. She was sure her makeup was a mess but didn't care. It wasn't like anyone was going to see her anyways, not until tomorrow at least. Y/n was trying to get redeemed but she wasn't trying to get made fun of. If she could keep this to herself, she was going to.

It wasn't that she didn't trust the others in the hotel. Y/n actually trusted them more than about anyone she'd met in Hell up to this point. They were kind and caring, invested in themselves and one another even if they pretended they weren't. There was just the fear. There was always the fear, the internal need for perfection, to show no weakness.

Almost as if the universe was fucking with her, as if it could tell exactly what she didn't want, there was a knock at the door. Y/n groaned audibly into the pillow. Of course, just when she wanted to be left alone. The knock came again and she slowly sat up, still sniffling and hurriedly wiping her eyes.

"Uh, yeah." she called, trying her best to keep her voice from trembling and praying she didn't look too much of a mess even if it was probably just Charlie or Angel, "It's open. Sorry."

Y/n's eyes widened slightly in shock as Alastor opened the door. Out of everyone in the hotel, he was probably the person she knew the least. She made the effort of course. Despite knowing his status and his history, she tried to play nice and make friends. It was he who avoided her, not the other way around.

To be perfectly honest, Alastor made Y/n a bit nervous. It wasn't because of his reputation. They were in Hell for heaven's sake, everyone had one of those. No, it was the way her heart beat a little faster when he was in the room. It was the way that every time she looked at him, she secretly hoped she'd catch him looking at her too.

Alastor had never been in Y/n's room before. It was all satin and pink and lace. He couldn't help but think it suited her to a t. It was all perfect, she was perfect. Except here she was crying, just as Angel had said she might be.

What had happened was this: Alastor had over heard Angel saying something to Husk. They were at the bar, Angel was drinking as always, and saying he was worried about Y/n. Alastor had pressed and when Alastor pressed, he always got his way. Apparently Y/n had come back to the hotel mere minutes after having left to go get lunch with a friend. Angel said she had seemed really agitated, genuinely upset.

That had made Alastor angry. Not normal angry more delicate than that, more minute. It made him upset, he hurt for Y/n in her theoretical pain. He wasn't used to this whole feeling things thing. His body on autopilot, Alastor himself had been surprised when he found himself before her door, poised to knock.

Y/n watched him, her eyes glassy and her cheeks flushed. There were dark circles of mascara beneath her eyes that matched the stains on her pillow behind her and her pretty dress had a few wrinkles in it.

"Whatever is the matter, my dear?" Alastor asked, stepping fully in to the room.

"Oh, nothing." Y/n tried to brush him off, looking away towards the window as she pulled a stuffed animal into her lap.

It was her trembling lip that gave her away. Alastor let the door fall shut behind him. Y/n turned as she felt the bed dip beside her, her mouth slightly open.

"I would advise you not to lie to me."

He hadn't meant for it to sound like that. He saw the way Y/n stiffened instinctually at his words, at his tone. Alastor didn't know how to exist in a non threatening way, its how he'd lived his whole life in this world and the one before it. It was how he protected himself. He took a breath.

"What I mean," he slowly corrected himself, "is that you don't need to lie. I..."

He cleared his throat, uncomfortable with the way he was forcing himself to be honest. Honesty was, however, the only option. He saw the way Y/n's gaze was distant, her body tense. For the first time in his life, he wanted to help someone else. It was strange. Alastor submitted himself to the oddity of it all, the discomfort. It was his gift to her.

"I'm here to help."

"I..." Y/n trailed off, big wet tears pooling in her eyes, "It's nothing. I'm okay, really. It's stupid."

With a gentleness that surprised both of them, Alastor lifted a hand to her face, wiping a stray tear. He held it on the tip of his finger before his eyes, examining the way a jeweler would a diamond.

"If it's upsetting you this deeply, it's not stupid."

That was the last straw. Y/n, unable to hold herself back any longer, collapsed into his chest. Her body shook with sobs. Alastor held his arms out, unsure of what to do with them. It took him a second to comply with her unspoken request, wrapping them around her. He found himself rubbing small circles on her back, trying to soothe her.

There was a reason Alastor avoided Y/n and it was that the demoness made him feel things. Things he was unaccustomed to feeling, things that felt dangerous in their warmth and care. Bubbly little things that got caught in his chest and tied up his tongue. If he had thought about his actions, he wouldn't have come to her side but he hadn't and so, here he was. This was all unknown territory, he felt blind and alone in the dark. Alastor didn't like that.

They stayed like that for several minutes until Y/n was finally able to regain some control of her breathing. She calmed herself methodically, as if it was a ritual she was well practiced in. Alastor found himself wondering how many times she had felt like this, reacted to something in her life like this, and had no one there to hold her. He didn't like that thought. He couldn't decide what was worse, if no one ever had been there or if there was someone else who she wanted in times like this, someone other than him. Someone better, more well versed in the delicate intricacies of emotion.

She lifted herself from his chest, his arms falling from her back to his sides as she wiped the last few stray tears.

"I'm sorry." she half laughed, "I don't know what came over me... and I've ruined your suit."

Alastor looked down. There were indeed black stains from her running makeup on his jacket. Normally such a thing would irritate him to no end, anger him even. It was Y/n who had made them however and so, he didn't care. He turned back to her, shaking his head slightly.

"Nothing a wash can't fix. Now, why don't you tell me what happened?"

"It's stupid." Y/n shook her head, her eyes finding her hands in her lap.

She still held the stuffed animal there, a rabbit. She fiddled with it's ears absent mindedely, twisting them and rubbing them in a practiced manner.

"Y/n." Alastor gently warned and she sighed.

"It's just... something someone said to me. That's all."

Alastor's brow furrowed slightly at the notion.

"What did they say? Who was it?"

The words had fallen from him quicker than he had meant them to, more earnestly. He was grateful Y/n seemed to stuck in her own world to notice such a thing.

"Just some asshole making a comment about my weight. Saying that I shouldn't wear what I wear, saying the sight of me made them nauseous. The normal dickwad stuff. I should be used to it by now, I've been chubby all my life but... I don't know. It still just makes me want to disappear. To rip myself apart by the fistful, you know?"

Y/n looked up at Alastor when he didn't respond, her cheeks red with embaressment.

"I told you, it's du-"

"Who the fuck said it?" he asked through gritted teeth, trying his best to remain calm.

"Alastor, it's fine." Y/n sighed, "I don't know why you're getting so worked up about it. Like I said, I've heard it all before."

She made to turn back to the plushie in her lap but before she could, Alastor cupped her face gently in his hands.

"Al... what are you..."

"Y/n, you are stunning."

There he went again, not thinking. Y/n was dangerous, to be avoided. She paraded around in her sweet sundresses and angelic disposition, practically unfit to have been sent to Hell in the first place. She was the simple syrup in lemonade, she was the best mixed drink.

Her tongue ran gently over her lips, an innocent and thoughtless gesture on her part that sent his mind reeling as she mulled over his words. Her brow furrowed.

"Alastor, I-"

"You are the most beautiful person I have ever laid eyes on, living or dead."

There he went again, his tongue a million miles ahead of his brain. Y/n let out a light laugh, her head still in his hands.

"What?" Alastor asked, feeling the heat rush to his cheeks, "I mean it."

"I thought you hated me." Y/n confessed.

"Far from it, my sweet."

His voice was barley more than a whisper. Y/n looked away.

"You drive me to distraction."

Her presence was like some strange truth serum rushing through his veins, now he had started, he couldn't seem to stop.

"I've never... You're unlike anyone I've ever met. You shine in this dark place."

"Alastor, this is a lot." Y/n admitted after a moment.

"My apologies." he let go of her face, his heart sinking, "I did not intend to make you feel worse."

He should have known. Alastor, in his foolish frenzy, had forgotten himself, his legacy, his persona. How could someone as sweet as a sun ripened strawberry stolen straight from the bush feel anything towards him save fear?

"I'll go."

Alastor made to get up, had every intent to actually leave and give Y/n her space. At the felling of her small hand on his arm, he paused and turned back to her.

Y/n's face was bright red, she refused to meet his gaze. Her arm not holding him was wrapped tightly around her stuffed animal like a charm.

"No, please." she took a deep breath, meeting his eyes once again at last, "I... I think... you're rather... handsome... as well."

Her speech was halting, uncertain in its anxiety. His smile widened.

"You do now, do you?" he asked, lifting her head a little higher with a finger beneath her chin.

"Oh hush." she scolded him, "If anyone was going to lie out of the pair of us, I'm pretty sure it'd be you. I am trying to be redeemed, in case you've forgotten, and you probably just want my soul or some shit."

"How can I prove to you that the only way I want your soul is given willingly and out of contract?"

Y/n laughed again, a genuine joy.

"Pinky promise me."

She held up a hand and Alastor quickly locked pinkies with her.

"I meant every word I said. I've had... eyes for you for a while now. You are the rosy fingered dawn. You are... you're you. You are Y/n."

"I am Y/n, aren't I." she smiled cockily back.

It was a relief to see her return to her normal confident self.

"I meant everything I said too. I've... I've had eyes for you too, or whatever."

She looked away, her cheeks even brighter pink than before. Alastor let go of her pinky and, leaning forward, pressed a soft and tentative kiss to the top of their head. Y/n immediately snapped her head back to him. Before he could register what was happening, she had tackled him in a hug, throwing them both to the bed.

Looking down at him from her perch on his lap, she smiled brightly.

"Can I kiss you?"

The question took him by surprise. He had never kissed anyone before save the tender kiss on the cheek reserved for dear friends and close family. He hesitated in indecision, in uncertainty.

"You're allowed to say no." Y/n followed up, noticing his apparent discomfort, "I don't want to move things too fast for you."

Alastor shook his head, the truth of his own desire unexpected even to him.

"No. You can."

Y/n's smile widened as they dipped down, pecking him on the lips. His cheeks warmed as she straightened herself up again, her hands pressed flat against his chest.

"You have no idea how long I've wanted to do that for."

She smelled sweet, she looked sweet, god, she probably even tasted sweet. His tongue darted out of his mouth across his lips jus ever so slightly, the flavor of her strawberry lipgloss fueling his infatuation.

"Do that again."

It didn't take long for Alastor to track down the demon in question that had sent Y/n spiraling that afternoon. After their promise had been made and she had agreed to the date he had proposed for the next day, she had spilled everything. Her head in his lap as he had run his fingers through her hair, she had complained liberally about the demon. Her complaints had, thankfully, included a full description of the man.

Once the hour was late and he was sure she was fast asleep along with everyone else in the hotel, Alastor had slipped out onto the streets. The demon was, of course, easy to locate. He was loud and distinctive. Alastor found him drunk in a bar harassing a woman. He watched, waiting patiently until the man left and when he did, Alastor followed him.

He cornered the demon, sending his shadows to torment the man. He was on his knees close to tears by the time Alastor finally decided to join in on the fun. He leered down at the demon, grinning from ear to ear.

"I heard you said something rather cruel today." he hummed.

"I didn't!" the man pleaded, "I swear!"

"Not even to a pretty little demon in heart shaped sunglasses?"

The man's eyes widened slightly in obvious recollection.

"I... fuck, I didn't know. I swear, I didn't know who she was. I didn't know she was with you!"

Alastor stretched in the darkness of the ally, his horns growing thorny and tall as he entered his true demon form. The man trembled in fear. It was pathetic, truly.

"It doesn't matter. You ruined her plans for the day and so, in return, I am going to ruin you."

With those final words, he pounced. The tongue of the man was the first thing to go, ripped with great force from his throat and tossed to the side.

Next were his ears, Alastor tore them from his head slowly. The man screamed, a choked and guttural sound through the blood in his throat. Alastor laughed shamelessly, his claws finding a home in the demon's stomach next.

He disemboweled the man with ease, careful to keep everything connected so he was still alive. Then, he went for the eyes, gouging them out in harsh slashing movements. Alastor straightened himself, looking down upon his mess of a creation.

"I would say that next time you will think before saying something like that again but, I think we both know there wont be a next time."

A strange sound left the demons throat, obviously a plea of mercy. Without a tongue, he could not articulate his wishes.

"What?" Alastor asked, putting a hand to his ear as he slowly returned to his normal appearance, "I am sorry but could you say that again? I couldn't quite make it out."

Another strangled, desperate sound left the man's throat. Alastor laughed.

"Well, I've given you a chance to beg for your life and you have chosen not to take it." he taunted, leaning back over the man, "I supposed that means you have opted for death. Very well."

In a single, swift movement he tore the man's throat from his neck. The demon twitched under him for a few seconds longer before at last stilling in death. Alastor examined his work for a moment before pulling himself to his feet. Without a glance back towards the body, he straightened his jacket and let his shadows take him from the ally.

Y/n was under his protection now. He had tried so long to avoid the call, the weakness, her charms pulling him in. At long last, he had succumbed and under his watch, no one was going to ever make her feel anything less than perfect ever again.

----

A/N This is the first time I have ever written something like this, I hope it was okay.

[itsstrange]

First Impressions

Fandom: Ted Lasso, Sudeikis Fans

Relationship: Jason Sudeikis x F-Reader

A/N: A little something for all you Suds Fans. This will become a mini series, aiming for either 5 to 10 chapters, not sure yet, but it will contain Adult Content so be prepared for it! Warnings will be posted in the beginning of the Chapter!

Summary: “Uhm..,” He furrows his brows as he glances down at you then behind your head, then back to your eyes, “Is this the.. men’s restroom?” In Other words, You didn’t think you’d be meeting your celebrity crush just outside the restroom from a club.

Word Count: 5.3k

Warnings: (Yes) Will Contain Adult Content, Fluff, Angst, Smut, Jason Sudeikis Being a Soul, Etc.

———

Enjoy! ✨💓

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—————————

Jesus it’s a maze here. You think to yourself as you do your best in walking through dancing bodies, ducking under wailing arms as they move to the music, brushing past couples who were determined in eating each other out, awhile doing your best in not spilling your drink. Nearly 30 bucks in this cup and you weren’t going to wait another 20 minutes for a new one nor did you feel like walking back towards the monstrosity of a crowd.

So, clutching and guarding your drink like it’s made out of gold, you push yourself to get through the sea of bodies. At one point you even had to dance your way through since that was the easier way to get by, but just as you were getting near the end a hand wraps around your waist, pulling you flushed against a firm body earning a yelp from you. Turning around you see a man grinding on you, sweat rolling down his temples as he moves to the music.

You shake your head at him signaling you weren’t actually dancing, just trying to get through but he clearly didn’t grasp that because he’s back to grinding at you. A laugh escaped from you as you go with the flow and somehow managed to slip from his hold without him even noticing, proving to you that he was extremely intoxicated in.. whatever it was he was on. Still chuckling to yourself— you continue to dance your way through dancing bodies till you’re free from the crowd, making you relax your tensed shoulders and walk the rest of the way to your booth.

You couldn’t wait to share what just happened with your friends, but just as you reached the table where they were talking amongst themselves, the smile that was on your face quickly fades when you don’t see a face with your group.

“Where the hell is Ethan?” You ask a friend over the blaring music,

A knowing look settles on her face as she points out towards the crowded dance floor.

“He started crying then left to the restroom,” The same look ends up on your face as you slam your drink on the table before making your way towards the back of the bar,

Back to the crowd, but at this point you didn’t care. Hell, you didn’t even danced your way through this time, you just rudely walked past them, earning some remarks from people but you kept walking till you made it to the other end of the bar/ club, you still didn’t know what kind of place this was because at one point it felt like a bar until out of nowhere it turned into a raver in here. Quickly you make your way to the restroom, except it wasn’t towards the woman’s, no, you straight up went to the men’s.

Where you noticed just how empty the hall was compared to the woman’s restroom. Looked like a damn airport line just to use the toilet, which had you considering in just using the men’s restroom to avoid such line, but the thought of having to use their space had you scrunching your nose knowing their restrooms weren’t as clean as the woman’s. At least club restrooms. Outside of here they can’t be the same.. right? They shouldn’t be.

Pushing through the doors you walk down the hall till you round the wall, finding Ethan leaning against the sink as he washes his face. The sight broke you, you always hated seeing your best friend cry no matter the situation, but right now you weren’t tolerating it.

Making your way towards him you grip his face before forcing him to look at you, noticing the slight jump scare from him but chose to ignore it as you stared deep in his dark blues.

“You shouldn’t be here,” Ethan says first, words coming out muffled considering his cheeks are squished by your hand,

“Neither should you,” You argue back, still not letting go of his face, “You know what else you shouldn’t be doing? Crying for that idiot!”

Ethan rolls his red eyes, settling them on the wet sink as you continue, “Screw him Ethan! He’s the one losing somebody incredible! He’s the one that lost, not you,”

You tell him, ignoring the way a man comes out from one of the stalls with a confused look as he slowly walks towards the sink where he washes his hands before quickly leaving the odd moment.

Ethan tries pulling from your grip with a roll of his eyes, but you tighten your hold on his chin as you force him to look at you before repeating your words again. Reminding him he’s worth more than some asshole who only wanted games, reminded him he never cries over a man who clearly doesn’t deserve him or deserve his love. Your words brought fresh tears from him but not once did you stop, you kept going, he had to know that he wasn’t going to be wasting his breath or time for some piece of shit who didn’t deserve him.

Tears falling down his cheeks he listens to you, taking in your words, weighing them, holding them dearly to himself like a comforting blanket. You knew he always loved your support no matter what it was for, he loved it and cherished it whenever you gave him a piece of your heart. From the first day of first grade, he knew you two would be joined to the hip, and boy was he right.

Nothing was able to separate you two. Yes arguments would happen here and there, but you two always managed to find each other again, your strong bond was there to keep you both together, reunite you both.

“So, fix yourself. Be a bad bitch and come back outside to have drinks,” You tell him eventually which he nods his head at you, “I mean it Ethan!”

You yell over your shoulder as you walk towards the door. Walking out the restroom you turn to your left without looking, eyes casted behind to hopefully find Ethan walking out the door which caused you to collide with a firm body. However, as you glance up to apologize, the words get caught in your throat along with your body going rigid when you lock eyes with familiar brown orbs.

“Oh sorry bout that,” It was his deep voice that confirmed it was truly him,

You knew his voice like the back of your hand. Being a fan of his work, of him, for so many years you just knew the low pitch of his voice like no other.

“Uhm..,” He furrows his brows as he glances down at you then behind your head, then back to your eyes, “Is this the.. men’s restroom?”

Jesus fucking Christ say something!

“Oh uhm.. yes I’m sorry. I was just—.. my friend he was.. he started crying and then I just—,” You words jumbled together as you remain holding his gaze, however, Ethan coming out of the restroom stops your ramble, preventing any further humiliation,

“Okay bitch! You’re right! Fuck that piece of shit I’m ready for some drinks!” He yells but stops in his tracks when he stands next to you, recognizing the man nearly hovering over you,

“You must be the friend,” He comments with an amused smile, those dimples of his that have always made you swoon appear on his cheeks,

“And you are Jason Sudeikis,” Ethan points at him with a wide smirk,

Jason gives a soft chuckle, “That I am,” His eyes finding your own once again, smile widening even more when you both lock eyes,

“Well this here is my better half, (Y/n). Who is incredibly obsessed with you and your work,”

“Ethan!!” You scream with wide, embarrassed eyes as you look at him,

“What? You’re just staring at him like some weirdo instead of introducing yourself,” He waves you off with a roll of his eyes, causing your mouth open in horror, embarrassment and shock,

You seriously can’t believe this is happening. Can’t believe this is how you’re meeting your celebrity crush, at a bar-club while your best friend introduces you in the most embarrassing way. You honestly didn’t want nothing more than to be sucked to the ground where you can hide away, away from this moment, from him. You’re definitely not going out any time soon.

As if you’d ever run into him again.

Jason on the other hand kept looking between you two with an amused look, smile only widening the longer he kept his focus on your embarrassed frame, then softly chuckling once again when your hand slowly covers your mouth. Obviously you didn’t notice this since you were doing your best in avoiding his gaze.

“Anyways, it was nice to finally meet you. Enjoy your night!” Ethan yells over the music with a wide smile as he taps the man on his shoulder before walking past him,

Jason nods at him with a wide smile, following his dancing frame till he disappears in the crowd before bringing his gaze back to you, where you still stood in shock and embarrassed.

“He seems like a great friend,” He tells you, wide smile still plastered on his face,

You remain staring at him with wide eyes, words not being able to push past your throat, but with the little strength that you had you managed to let some words out.

“I am.. so sorry about that,” You say through your fingers, however, before he can say anything back a man walking by prevents him to speak, which you used that opportunity to walk away,

He watches your frame leave with quick steps, wide smile still on his face as he replays the little moment, being completely hooked on it. On you for some reason. He didn’t know what it was, but he was interested, causing a small chuckle to vibrate in his chest as he makes his way towards the restroom.

You on the other hand, the embarrassment that you felt was so strong that you were considering in ditching your friends and going home, because after what you just encountered? Yeah you definitely want to go home, but you couldn’t just leave them alone, couldn’t leave them out of the blue, or leave Ethan after giving him a whole lecture in the men’s restroom. Just suck it up, it’s not like you’re going to see him again, the voice says in your head as you squeeze your way through the dancing crowd.

So, pushing down that feeling and quickly making your way back towards your group, where they all laughed and talked amongst each other you convinced yourself to stay, because you knew the voice was right. It was such a large building, he could be anywhere inside, which would most likely be in the VIP section of the bar so there was no way you would run into him again, plus, there’s a high chance he just wanted to use the restroom before leaving. Which you hoped because you don’t think you’d want to meet him again, not after that encounter.

So, for the rest of the night you enjoyed yourself with your friends— after slapping Ethan upside the ahead of course— and forced yourself to not look around the building for him. Both to avoid him if seen and just to see if you can catch a glimpse of him again before he left, but after the fifth time of scanning your surroundings and not finding him anywhere you brought your focus to your friends.

Once finishing your drink and taking a few shots with your group, the encounter was buried in the back of your head. Forgotten for the night. You enjoyed the moment with your friends, laughing, singing, talking, dancing and drinking was shared with them as the night went on. After what seemed like your 7th shot— you honestly dont remember how many you’ve had— but the buzz began creeping its way up which made you slow down on your drinks. You were the designated driver that night after all, if you didn’t control yourself now, neither of you would make it back home.

You still continued drinking with them, just paced yourself as well as drinking water on the side. Your friends on the other hand were not counting their drinks by any means, they were determined to drink themselves into oblivion. It seemed like a great idea now, but knowing them all too well they’d regret it the following day. They always do.

At some point during the night, your group eventually scatters, three of them along with Ethan were on the dance floor with men they found, where your other friends decided to go home since they were in no condition to continue with the night. After making sure they got in their Uber safely and paid the driver a heavy tip— in case they empty their stomach during the ride— you walk back inside the building where you debated on walking back to your booth where you’d sit alone or walk to the bar where you can sit on the stools alone. After standing by the entrance like some weirdo you eventually decide on the bar.

You made your way through dancing bodies once again only this time you hardly struggled since the dancing floor had fewer people, considering it was two in the morning and the place closed at three. Yet that didn’t stop your friends from living it up.

Once at the counter of the bar, you sit in the corner which gives you a perfect view of your friends dancing. A small smile tugs on your lips at the sight, you were glad they were enjoying themselves they been through a lot these past few days, they needed this night. Stress reliever. Which is why you let them be till the bar closed.

As you switched your gaze from your friends to your phone then back to your friends, the bartender makes his way towards you, asking if you wanted to order anything before they closed in fifteen minutes. You hesitated, but eventually settled for another jack & coke along with two last shots for the night. Nodding at you he goes ahead and turns around to prepare your drinks. Three minutes later he places two shot glasses in front of you, but just as he did you didn’t notice a figure settling next to you until you hear them speaking out.

“Well if it isn’t peeping Tom,” That deep voice vibrates in your ear drums, causing a cold shiver to run down your spine when you know exactly who it is,

Slowly turning to your right you meet gazes with Jason, who had a large smile on his face. His beautiful dimples displayed on his cheeks.

“Hi,” He speaks at a normal level considering the music wasn’t as loud as it was before,

“H-Hi,” You respond with a stutter, shy smile tugging on your lips,

“It’s (Y/n) right?”

You nod your head, “Yeah,”

You honestly have no idea how your calm at the moment when you’re freaking the fuck out on the inside at the fact of him remembering your name. Which you’d like to point out the encounter happened fucking hours ago, yet, here he is, saying your name beautifully with that deep voice of his.

“I’m really sorry about.. earlier. My friend he can be..,” You shake your head with a heavy sigh through your nose, embarrassment rising once again when you think back to the moment,

However, Jason only waves you off with a smile, “Don’t worry about it, caught my attention didn’t it?”

A chuckle along with a shy smile escapes from you, feeling your cheeks heat up at his words. You still couldn’t believe how calm you were at this very moment, guess you can thank the alcohol in your system for doing most of the work in keeping your nerves down because you knew for sure having any sort of conversation with this man right here in a sober state would not look like this at all. So yes, at this very moment you were glad you took those shots earlier and glad you had ordered two more.

Which you quickly drank one to keep the nerves from rising.

In a matter of seconds you both fall into a deep conversation. It switched from topic to topic, from where you were from, to what you both like to do on your spare time, to what you did for a living which you then responded you owned a bar.

“Really?” He questioned with a surprise yet interest tone,

“Yeah, it’s my uncles bar but he retired a few months ago so now I run it for him,”

“That’s really generous of you, not many people would stay in the family business. That’s pretty cool,” His smile causes a shy chuckle to escape from you, then continues with, “This bar got a name?”

You nod your head with a smile, “Cohen’s Bar, it’s in Brooklyn,”

That got him to raise his brows at you, “You don’t say?”

“Uh huh,” You respond with a soft chuckle, earning a wide smile from the actor when he knew you knew he lives somewhere in Brooklyn,

Another few minutes passed by, more stories were shared with each other which you couldn’t help but smile widely whenever he spoke of his personal life in such high spirits. Regardless of who he’s become over the years, he always had that love and brightness in his eyes when speaking of his hometown or old memories of his childhood. It was truly amazing. Not only because you were talking to this amazing man right here, but because you’re getting to know him in a personal manner and that alone you cherished deeply.

“So, what is the great Jason Sudeikis doing at a place like this?” You ask, curiosity poking at you when you have a feeling this isn’t his typical Friday night,

Despite him being to award shows and carpet events, you didn’t take him as the type to also pop in to clubs for a night out. And if he was the type, then at least you learned something new about him.

He smiles widely at your compliment, dimples deepening the wider his smile gets, never failing in making you swoon at the sight. Looking behind his shoulder for a split second, he averts his eyes back to you with the same smile.

“See those guys over there?” He motions to his left with his head, turning in the direction you spot a small group huddled in a booth talking and laughing amongst themselves, “My buddy in the white shirt, it’s his birthday, wanted to go bar-hopping, which explains why we are currently here,”

“Ahh,” You respond with a short chuckle, understanding his situation, which you then noticed he seemed completely sober compared to his group of friends,

It was also then you fully took in his appearance; hair beautifully styled upwards and parted to the right, a dark navy jacket rested on his frame with a black T-shirt underneath, grey jeans with some classic Air Jordan 3’s on his feet. He looked handsome as usual, never once has he ever disappointed you, despite him always wearing a hoodie in public for any occasion, him without it was just as dashing.

“So..,” His voices brings your focus back to his eyes that were staring fondly at you, “What is the beautiful (Y/n) (L/n) doing at a place like this?”

His flirtatious comment immediately brings heat up your cheeks, causing his own smile to widen when he catches the moment. He absolutely loved it how you responded to him, how genuine your smile and laughter would sound with any joke or story he’d share with you, how genuinely interested you were about anything he’d say rather than other people who always pretended to care just get something out him, whether it was regarding about work, a photo, an autograph, whatever it was they were looking for he’d always be able to read it off of them right away. But with you, all he read was honesty, genuine interest, and pure respect.

And that alone got him hooked on you. Your whole aura was absolutely inviting, lovable, sweet, funny, charismatic, he had just met you but boy was he absolutely in awe of you. Despite knowing you are a huge fan of him and his work, you still treated him like any other human being, you kept a conversation with him like any other close friend would. From the minutes or hour he’s spoken to you, he truly enjoyed your presence and has been wondering how exactly he can continue in enjoying your time without making it seem like all he wanted was to take you to bed.

From the moment he ran into you a few hours prior, he’s been interested in you. After he had used the restroom and went back to his group of friends on the other side of the building, his mind would often wonder back to the small moment he had with you, wondering if he’d miraculously run into you again. When he finally did find your frame sitting alone at the bar towards the end of the night, he couldn’t help the way excitement danced in his lower stomach. Then couldn’t help the way nerves overpowered that excitement in his stomach when he was able to capture your features under the glowing light, thinking just how beautiful you looked, how mesmerizing you were, how easily it was for you to halt his steps as he couldn’t stop observing your frame. He was indeed starstruck by your presence, just like how you were when running into him.

“See that group over there?” You point your thumb behind your shoulder without looking, causing a smirk to spread on the mans face at your mocking question but still sends you a nod when looking towards your friends, “They had a rough couple days, so I thought a night out would help make them feel better,”

Jason hums at you with a slow nod, bottom lip slightly pouting as he continues to look behind your shoulder, “Well I can definitely say that your plan was successful,”

You furrow your brows in confusion, not quite understanding his words until you turn to face your group where your facial expression changes from confusion to shock in less than a second. Standing shirtless on a medium coffee table, Ethan twirled his shirt in the air while the rest of your friends cheered him on.

“Oh my god,” You say in shock, embarrassment as your best friend continues twirling and twerking on the poor table,

Although, what you didn’t see was the way Jason had an amused smile on his face as he watched your group of friends living their life. However, in less than a second he sees you bolting from your chair when Ethan slightly loses his footing and falls off the table, landing with a loud thud on the floor, Jason follows after you to give you a hand but as he appears next to you he sees how your friend was hysterically laughing on the ground, along with your other friends.

“Jesus Ethan,” You say with a chuckle as you help your friend to sit on the ground, who was still laughing by the way,

However, a high pitched excited yelp comes from the man when he glances upwards, getting a sight of Jason crouching next to you as he helps you with your intoxicated friend.

“Oh my god it’s you again!” He points with a wide smile, then gasps when he turns to you, “Did you get his number?!”

Your eyes grow wide at his question, “Ethan!” You turn to look at Jason with an apologetic expression but only see how a wide smile is on his face,

He was enjoying this way too much.

“I’ll make sure to slip it in her pocket don’t worry,” Jason responds with that same wide smile before helping your friend off the floor and onto the table that nearly ended his life,

You on the other hand remained crouched as you tried processing his words. Was he being serious? Theres no way right? He can’t be, he’s just throwing jokes. There’s no way the famous Jason Sudeikis would ever give you his number! I mean.. he’s Jason Sudeikis and you’re… you! No one important. Of course he’s making jokes, that’s who he is, humorous. There’s absolutely no way.

Your other friends stumbling behind Ethan brings you out of your rambling thoughts, which also brings you to your feet as you quickly reach out for them before having another pair of friends on the floor.

“Okay, I think it’s time to go home now,” You tell them all, which of course earns you disagreement from all of them,

“You park close?” Jason asks as he stands up straight, hand still firmly holding on to Ethan so he won’t fall over,

“I got valet,”

He nods, then turns to behind his shoulder for a split second before looking back at you.

“Here gimme your keys,” You’re quick to decline his offer, you already made a fool of yourself and probably wasted his time by talking and helping you with your drunk friends,

“It’s fine really,” You try once again,

“Well from the looks of it, you’re gonna need all the help you can get,” He says, warm smile on his face as he motions his extended hand to give up your keys,

His smile, his eyes, his dimples, his inviting aurora was what made you give in. Giving him a tired smile you place your keys in the palm of his hand, which widens his own smile before looking behind his shoulder where he calls out to someone in his group of friends. A tall man in a plain black t-shirt , dark hair, comes walking towards you. Jason briefly gives him details of the situation you’re in and without another question or comment, the friend leaves with an inviting nod.

It was about 30 to 40 minutes later when Jason checks his phone, the screen illuminating his features oh so beautifully before letting you know your car is waiting at the entrance. Once you were certain the girls were able to walk on their own and grabbed whatever they were leaving behind, you give Jason a nod who easily lifts Ethan from the table before following you out the building. Every now and then you’d hear him laugh at something Ethan would say, you just hope it wasn’t anything regarding to you or regarding anything embarrassing otherwise he’d wake up in a ditch rather than a bed.

Stepping through the doors, your black 2023 Honda Sport Sedan was indeed waiting for you at the entrance, Jason’s friend standing next to it as he conversed with some security guards outside. Your friends drunkenly singing a random song brings the man’s attention towards your group, where he quickly gives Jason a hand with Ethan by carefully putting him in the backseat. Once everybody was inside, still singing their lungs out, you let out a heavy sigh, both from exhaustion and relief now that they’re in the car.

“You sure you’re good to drive?” Jason asks once he closes the door to the backseat,

You give him a nod, “I stopped drinking a couple hours ago,”

He narrows his beautiful eyes at you, that somehow look bright brown under the neon bar sign, but with a small smile tugging at his lips he hands you your keys. Definitely not being able to stop the way electricity runs through your fingertips at the slightest touch of his own, nor did you try and focus on how he purposely ran his fingers against your own for more than three seconds.

Oh how you wished the night wasn’t ending, how you wished you still had time with him, how you wanted to talk to him till the sun rose then fell back down. Talking with him was so easy and smooth, like molasses. He was so easy to communicate with, such a gentleman in all aspects, just like how you always pictured it and seen on interviews. He was so outgoing and welcoming, making sure you felt comfortable without even trying or even knowing. But now, sadly it was coming to an end.

After this night you’d definitely won’t see him again other than your screen, so of course you stood just outside the building staring into his eyes in silence. Wide smiles displayed on both your faces as if you both knew what the other felt at the moment. But it was you who broke the comforting silence.

Clearing your throat you shyly look away from his eyes, “It was really nice meeting and talking with you, I enjoyed it,”

His smiles widens, eyes never leaving yours, “Yeah same here,”

“And thank you again for..,” You don’t finish your sentence as you motion your hand behind you where your group of friends are now laughing hysterically in your car,

He slightly chuckles, “Of course,”

Another moment of beautiful, comfortable silence falls between you two as you both hold each others gaze once again. Clearly neither one of you have gotten enough of each other, but unfortunately, it was him who broke the silence this time.

“Drive safe?”

You nod at him again with a smile, “I will,”

With that you climb into the car, your friends singing off key to some song you don’t recognize, at least not when they’re the ones singing it. But as you get in, turn on the ignition, you glance out your window once again, sending him one final smile and a wave. Which he returns with those dimples displaying on his face once again.

Fuck how you’re going to remember this night for the rest of your life and oh how you wished it wasn’t ending just yet. But, life has to move on. You’ve got your path and he’s got his, both completely different from each other that it just will never happen.

This was a one time thing.

Or as they call it “one hit wonder” Regardless of what they call it or how it seems, you were incredibly grateful to have such an intimate connection— moment with Jason Sudeikis. Even if it was only for a couple of hours, you were still grateful. You wouldn’t have it any other way, would rather sit down with him and talk than spare a photograph or autograph, because rather than capturing that five second moment on camera, you rather have a memory of having a decent conversation with one of your favorite actors.

So yes, despite you not wanting the night to end, you were glad you got to talk to him for those remaining hours. Definitely a core memory.

However, you nearly tripped on your carpet of your room as you fished out your keys from your pocket. Just as you were going to place them on your side table you noticed something red sticking underneath your keys. Pulling it out you noticed it was your valet ticket, however, it was the neatly written phone number behind said ticket that made your foot get caught with the ripped corner of your carpet that had you stumbling towards your bed. Just barely catching yourself on the frame of your bed you continue to glance down at the ticket in your hand, still not quite believing in what you’re seeing.

But after numerous times of rubbing both your eyes and slightly pinching your skin, you believed your vision was not playing tricks on you. And the number was in fact permanently written on the back of your ticket.

Call Me

718-656-7785

——————————

-> I Hope Y’all Liked This One!!! It’s Been Long Overdue And Have Been Coming Back & Forth With This One For a While Now!

-> Just Letting Ya’ll Know That You’ll See This Hunk of A Man on My Timeline More Often 😚✌️

-> Another thing, I’ve Got More Ideas Not Only Regarding Sudeikis, But For Other People/Characters I Write For So Stay Tuned For That!!!

-> Make Sure To Turn On Post Notifications!! 🔔 For More Updates!!

——————————

[co6kiesvr]

summary: xavier is tired of you avoiding him

genre: angst

days, it’s been days since you’ve last talked to xavier. it’s not that you’re in a fight, or you hate him or something. but you’ve just been so caught up in this case you’re working on, that you couldn’t find the time to talk to him.

the only people you’ve been talking to are the dead. you’ve had this ability since you were a kid, you’ve made connections with them, and they’ve been helping you with this case.

your brain couldn’t focus on anything other than that, you needed to find out who the monster was. you needed to find out why this monster is killing innocent people. you needed to know everything

and here you were in your room, working on the case, pictures of dead bodies, evidence and papers scattered all around the room. your friend avery, a girl who had died at birth, and also a close friend of yours, was sat there as well, helping you collect your thoughts.

a knock on the door was heard, you turned to see none other than xavier entering the room. your roommate wasn’t around, and avery left when she heard the knock, so it was just you and him

“hey” he said, looking around the room as he saw the stuff, “still working on the case, huh?”

“uh, yeah.” you said, “avery helped as well”

“mhm…so um, do you wanna maybe pause this for a second and go on a walk with me?”

“what? of course not!” you said in a rather rude tone

“what?” he said, a little hurt by the tone

“i’m busy” you said as you kept organizing your work

“are you serious right now?” he furrowed his eyebrows, “you—you haven’t talked to me in almost a week…come on y/n are you seriously gonna reject me just because of some case that you have nothing to do with?”

you continued doing your work, not responding

“wow. you really—do you even care?!” he snapped

“about what” you said

“about—about me! about…us, do you even care about that?! you really live in your own world. the cops have this handled and you just wanna include yourself for no reason. i’m trying, i’m really trying to wait for you, and be patient. but you don’t seem to give two fucks if i’m even here or not! i’m not doing this anymore, i’m done.” he said, and you froze

you froze as you heard his footsteps fading, you froze as you realized a hole in your heart was forming, you froze when the case you were working on was not a care in your mind anymore, you froze when you realized…he left you. he left you and you were the reason.

xavier really was patient with you, at first, you would talk to him often, then you started talking to him at the end of the day, then you’d talk to him every other day, and then—you wouldn’t talk to him at all.

it’s funny how you don’t realize how important someone is, until they’re gone.

for the very first time, you felt alone.

like actually alone, you’d usually have avery, or another friend with you, but most of the time, you had xavier, and now he wasn’t coming back.

you felt tears brimming in the corners of your eyes, you had never cried before, let alone over a boy

but he was special.

you got up and ran after him, only he was now probably back in his room.

but nonetheless, you ran to his room, and knocked on his door repeatedly until he opened it

“jesus im coming—y/n?” he said, going quiet

you went inside his room, and once he got a good look at you, he knew

“oh my god are you crying?” he said as he gently grabbed your face, wiping your tears

“i’m sorry” you cried out, and he was quick to hug you, “i’m sorry i was just focused on the case and—“

“hey, hey it’s okay.” he said as he stroked your hair

you looked up at him, and soon your lips collided.

once you let go, you were quick to speak

“you were right. i’m dropping the case, the cops have it handled and i should’ve just—“

“no” he said

“what?”

“i’m not telling you to drop the case, baby. i love that you’re working on it and trying to keep everyone safe. but we work on it, together. i cant have you getting hurt” he said as he gently rubbed your cheek with his thumb

“really?”

“of course” he smiled

you might act tough on the outside, but on the inside, you truly loved him.

[lambilegs]

lee harker with a mean-ish girlfriend 🙈🙉🙊

lee with mean!girlfriend/partner headcanons 🎀 (contains: both sfw and nsfw content, reader getting gagged, humiliation kink, both reader and lee domming, spanking, dirty talk, reader receiving fingering and oral, reader is referred to as having a "cunt")

🌷͙ ͙۪۪̥ ͙ ♡𐡘 𐡘♡𐡘 𐡘 ֎ 𐡘 𐡘♡𐡘 𐡘♡ ͙ ͙۪۪̥ ͙🌷

NOOOOO bc wait... 👀 I've thought of this before too. also this was SOOOO much fun, and so hot to write, I didn't even know how bad I needed to write this till you requested it so thank you so so much 💗

first off -- literally gets turned on when you're rude to people who actually deserve it. like, if you're rude to someone who's behaving in an entitled way in a grocery store, she'll just watch in awe. because while she, too, would stand up for people, she'd never have the nerve, or even natural tendency, to do it with as much sass and attitude as you. so, watching you put people in their place, in a way she never could, is pretty satisfying, and she can't help but take a bit of pride in it.

but. she also finds it hot as fuck. the confidence in which you call the person out, the snarky smile on your face, the harshness your tone takes on... you wield so much power, and it's incredibly hot.

cue ten minutes later -- you're on your back in her backseat while she eats you out, mumbling against your sloppy cunt, "jesus, you looked good."

and speaking of sex, she probably gets into such a subby mood when you get like that, wanting nothing more than to worship you with her mouth, fingers, strap -- you name it. which LMAO you do. sometimes, you're mean with her in the bedroom too, teasing her mercilessly, gently bullying her, making demands left and right. and she's putty to it, holding back moans and willingly laying on her back, ready for you to ride her face or do anything you want to her.

you're incredibly bossy with her. she's usually on the quieter, more observant side, and it contrasts, ironically enough, pretty nicely with how upfront and abrasive you can be LMFAO usually, when you're a bit bossy w her, she'll just quietly sigh and do what you ask IDJSDKJ

but, I def feel like you can't be too mean with her. quiet and allusive as she is, she doesn't like people talking down on her. she gets enough of that at work, she doesn't need it from her own partner too

dude if you stand up for her?? she's either extremely touched by the amount of anger you feel on her behalf, or again, finds it so hot how willingly you throw yourself in defending her, and how your care for her exceeds any sort of filter you may have. either way, she relishes in being taken care of in such a way, especially since she's not used to it

sometimes goes to you to figure out if something someone says is rude bc she can't tell herself, and asks for your opinion on how to respond. though she does take your advice w a grain of salt bc you usually just wanna be rude to anyone who's even slightly mean to her

she's just so awkward and reserved and it makes her the PERFECT target for playfully and gently bullying. you'll grab her jaw and move it side to side, cooing at her, you'll sometimes instigate and taunt her just for the fun of it, you'll tease the shit out of her when she unintentionally does something even slightly embarrassing or silly. it's just your love language tbh LMAO

if you take it too far, she'll give you a sharp look or firm response, and you know to stop. but, usually, she just ignores you or quietly disses you back (she does it so smoothly you sometimes don't even realize it till some time later LMFAO)

loves putting you in your place -- will sometimes bend you over her lap, spanking at your ass and teasingly mumbling, "were you all talk? where's all that snide attitude from before?" if you piss her off before or during sex, she'll edge you for so long, pushing you to submit fully to her before she finally gives you release. she'd sit with her back pressed against the headboard of the bed, your legs spread out over her lap, back flat on the bed, just fingerfucking you with hard, deep strokes, staring at you intently, saying, "you sound so wet. you just want someone to shut you up, don't you?" hmm, what else? totally gags you sometimes with her fingers, strap or your panties while fucking you, just delighting at the way you whimper and moan at having her make you yield to her dominance and forget all the attitude you were giving her before

anyways ummm who wants a full length smut of lee w mean!girlfriend bc I think I need it

[thefatedthoughtofyou]

Saw this meme and iiiiii did a thing... a steddie thing... obviously

( Eddie has a small dick in this if you don't like it don't read it. We support small dick supremacy in this house thank you for your time. 😊 )

😅😅😅

I'm picturing them at a bar. I wanna say maybe Steve is the bar tender, and he's been seeing Eddie around. He comes in. Talks a little, he's kinda quiet. Like he's stuck in his head, like he comes there to think. He's always scribbling things on napkins. Steve thinks they might be song lyrics, the way Eddie hums and taps his fingers as he writes.

But Steve obviously sees him looking at him sometimes. It's a gay bar, it happens, but Eddie doesn't leer at him, or chat him up in that way. It's always just friendly conversation.

Steve kind of loves it. Loves being able to just chat and not worry about getting stalked out to his car by a creep. And then one day some drunk dude is hitting on Eddie HARD. Leaning into him and grabbing at his arm and just when Steve is about to say something the guy actually says the words,

"how big is that dick?" Like... in real life. Out loud. And grabs for Eddie's thigh, and Steve watches Eddie catch his wrist, easy, watches him shove the guys hand back at him, saying,

"small. Leave me alone." Without even looking at him. And Steve fucking barks a laugh because that was... fucking hilarious. But also... kinda hot. Like, he's known he likes Eddie for awhile but seeing someone come on to him had sealed the deal, jealousy crawling over his skin, but then seeing Eddie shut it down, in the funniest fucking way Steve had ever seen, had just slammed it into place.

The guy scowls, says something rude, and stalks off. But Eddie is looking at Steve cuz he's still chuckling. Doing that cough thing like he's trying to cover it up but the laugh is still extremely prominent through the coughing. And Eddie watches him with raised eyebrows cuz like... damn okay. Cute bar tender thinks he's funny. And Steve is like,

"Sorry man. That was just, fuckin hilarious. Not the guy grabbing you, obviously, just, how you delt with it. Like that was... the best thing I've seen in awhile. Just... just sayin." He shakes his head to stop himself rambling more, he needs more friends to hangout with besides Robin, she's rubbing off on him. So he just reaches into the cooler and grabs Eddie his usual beer, slides it over the bartop to him, tells him it's on the house.

"Thanks." Is all Eddie says, but he looks happy, small smile still on his face.

And when the bar's closing, and Eddie is still there, just idly talking to Steve all night. Steve takes a chance. Says some cheesey line about letting Eddie walk him home. And Eddie flushes red to his ears but nods, takes the last sip of his beer and helps Steve flip the chairs onto the tables so he can do a quick sweep. Steve's locking the door when he hears Eddie clear his throat awkwardly, like he wants to say something. Steve looks at him, waits.

"I uh... look I know you thought I was being funny... earlier." Eddie scratches his head, nods into the bar. Steve nods, lets him continue.

"But I uh- I was also being serious?" He grimaces, eyes on the ground.

"So if that's like... a deal breaker? That's- that's totally okay. I just uh... I dont know. Thought I should maybe warn you before- before anything...happens?" His eyes widen and he takes a step back.

"Not that anything was gonna happen! Like I wasn't expecting... THAT. I just... oh my god I don't know. People can be assholes about small dicks so I just wanted to be up-front about it in case you thought I was kidding when I told that guy that. Cuz I was being serious and I'm gonna stop talking. Jesus christ." He breathes the last part, shaking his head at himself, his face twisted in what looks like pain. Steve thinks he's fucking adorable.

He steps closer, puts his hands on Eddie's hips and pushes him gently against the brickwall of the bar. Rests his head against Eddie's as he laughs a little, Steve's fingers pressing into his hips tickling a bit.

"I don't care. Honestly I uh..." he pauses, pulls back to look at Eddie, his eyes are wide, his cheeks are a deep pink now.

"I was kinda hopin you weren't kidding." Steve tilts his head, smirks at Eddie, just a little. A light smirk. Not the full thing, doesn't wanna overwhelme him. Yet. Eddie sucks in air, blinks at him.

"Oh. Yeah?" He asks, his voice breathy, pitched higher than usual. Steve nods, sinks his teeth into his lip, and brushes his nose against Eddie's.

"Yeah. Still wanna walk me home?" Steve asks, staying close. Eddie nods, his hands moving to Steve's shoulders.

"Yeah. Yes absolutely. I'd love that. I'd love too." He rambles, swallowing hard.

And Steve can't help himself anymore, ducks forward and presses a soft kiss to his lips. Eddie makes a little sound in his throat and Steve fucking adores it. Already in so deep for this guy. But it's been months. Eddie's not a new thing in his life. Just, this part of it is new.

Eddie blinks at him when he pulls back, steps away from Eddie but holds out his hand. Eddie smiles, reaches out and takes it, lets Steve drag him away from the wall and down the sidewalk. Their fingers laced together, hands swaying between them as they walk through the dark.

[incorrectcreepypastafam]

Creepypasta As Markiplier And Friends Playing Uno

Jeff: what was I supposed to do? Suck some dick for better cards?

*Toby, Lyra, & Liu have two cards*

Jeff: Look at you with your two card powwow over there

*Liu starts drawing a bunch of cards*

Liu: So Jeff suddenly I’m on your team

Ben: keep it yellow, I can screw Jeff over

Liu: no *makes it red*

Sally: *constantly draws cards*

Sally: *finally gets a card*

Ben: *plays a reverse*

Sally: *starting to draw again* Here we go again

Lyra: *reverses it*

Liu: no thanks *reverses it*

Jeff: *saying fuck you everytime he pulls a card*

Tim: fuck all of you

Jeff: you don’t know that

Tim: What?

Jeff: I know what I said

Jeff: thank you, fuck you, I can’t decide which one

Liu: we’re all having a fun time. We’re thanking each other, we’re fucking each other. It’s all good

Ben: why is your hand so big, Jeff?

Jeff: you know, some people are just genetically gifted with bigger hands

Brian: I didn’t mean to fuck you, it just happened

Tim: can you stop accidentally fucking me?

Toby: can we start intentionally fucking Jeff?

Brian: what have you got against Jeff? Jeff’s done nothing

Toby: Jeff’s done everything

Brian: do you have any nice things to say about Tim, Jeff?

Jeff: I’ve seen shorter people

*everyone laughs*

Jeff: compliments are hard

Toby: taste this, fuckers

Jeff: okay that’s a little rude

Lyra: that’s aggressive

Toby: well now I have to draw cause yellow’s a dick pee color

Lyra: dick pee?

Jeff: what other kind of pee is there?

Brian: guys I have to pee again

Jeff: do you have fucking prostate cancer or something?

Ben, playing a +4: think about what you’ve done

Jeff: I will not

Jeff, playing a +5: eat this, dickhole

Liu, stacking it with another +5: eat this, dickhole

Toby: Ben, how could you do this to me

Ben: easily. It’s that color

Sally, skipping Ben: go away

Jeff, to Ben: the thing is I don’t like you, I like Toby

Jeff, drawing cards: you should’ve remembered. you should’ve remembered. you should’ve membered. you should’ve membered. you should’ve membered. you should’ve membered. You member? Do you member?

Liu: you just drew eighteen cards

Jeff: youuuuuuu should’ve membered

Jeff: you didn’t member hard enough

Tim, through his teeth: good luck changing the color you a-holes. This one’s mine

Jeff, after getting +15ed: NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO *takes a breath* NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

Lyra: oh my Jesus

Jeff: Jesus left long ago

Toby: *coughing*

Jeff: you dead yet?

Toby: you know one day I’ll be dead and you guys will be like “you know his jokes weren’t actually that bad”

Lyra: Jeff, im so sorry

Jeff: why shut up stop go away

Jeff: you berate me like I murdered your family

Brian: when? Did you murder my family? You asshole

Ben: seven plus seven is fourteen. Fourteen divided by three is not a whole number. *starts drawing* uhhhh I lost my train of thought. I’ll just draw I guess

Brian: betrayal is in my blood

Liu: what are you? Some kind of liar?

Ben: yes

[a-hobit]

Okay I get why I’ve been feeling like most bkdk fics that haven’t seen Katsuki smile and have Izuku brain seem ooc to me now. Listen. I realized that before he woke up he couldn’t really confess like the next day and it feel completely in character. He still seemed like he had some things to work over…now? God I thought over and over and now feels like he fucking could.

He could confess anytime.

Because his internal battle finished. He’s done hiding how he feels to other people! Izuku is not at all there yet but Katsuki feels like…Jesus he feels like he actually is in love with Izuku and could say something once the war is over.

How crazy is that??? That he seems ready for the first time so him hiding his feelings, being rude to izuku, angry while spitting it out, dating someone else, or angsting about Izuku in general feels so ooc! Because he’s fucking ready!

[dmercer91]

i love opposites attract au so much 🥹 what would happen if someone (maybe a new teammate or someone who does really know black cat) said something rude about her like maybe about her personality or her shyness? i feel like luca would be ready to sock someone in the nose LOL

he is always so ready to punch someone when they talk shit about her for no reason and after he walks away from the situation he just feels so sad

he wishes people saw her the way he did and that they’d at least try and give her the benefit of the doubt

through my eyes | opposites attract au, lf63

luca had been paired up with seamus and another guy from their class for an assignment, and they’d been sitting in the guys living room talking away for the last hour, assignment be damned

“you guys must get like a fuck ton of girls at parties, right? i mean like, hot girls, too,” the guy had commented, tilting his head so his words served as a question

“eh. sometimes, sure. lucas got a girl though, he’s head up his ass in love with her,” seamus smiled, looking over at luca who gave a small smile, the reminder of you making his heart flutter

“yeah? you got a picture?” the guy chuckled, watching as luca turned his phone screen and showed him the picture of you two he had as his lock screen

you were laughing together, you pretending to open up to bite his shoulder and him just beaming at the camera. it was one of his favourites of the both of you.

“oh. yeah, i think i’ve seen her around. shes pretty weird,” the guy shrugged, going back to seamus and staring to ask about some of his hookups.

seamus shook his head “dude. what the fuck,” he raised an eyebrow, coming to your defence while luca soaked in the comment, already angry.

“what? i’m just saying, man, you can do better,” the guy scrunched his face, confused as to lucas and seamus’ reactions

“she’s beautiful. and she’s quiet, yeah. but she’s not weird. she probably just didn’t fucking like you,” luca but in, eyes cold and pissed towards the guy.

“no, fantilli. she’s weird. she doesn’t talk to anyone and she’s about to fucking bite you in that. weirdo shit,” he vaguely gestured to lucas phone, rolling his eyes.

“you don’t know a thing about her, man. don’t fucking talk about her like that,” luca replied, fist gripping his phone roughly

“whatever. keep fucking your weirdo girlfriend. the rest of the team can have the hot, normal ones,” the guy smirked, clearly just trying to rile up luca and see how far he could take it

“jesus christ- let’s go, luca. grow a fucking sack, asshole,” shea eyed the guy, shoving his and lucas things in their bags and pushing him out the door, trying to get the both of them out of the situation as fast as possible

luca was quiet for a good while, a somber look plastered on his face while they walked back to his and your apartment.

“she’s such a sweet girl. nobody tries to see through her when she’s quiet,” he mumbled, looking over at seamus who was visibly uncomfortable because of everything that was said at their partners place

“don’t pay any mind to him, fants. the team loves her, shy or not,” luca looked down, a small smile forming on his lips

you were still pretty brash with a lot of the team, but they all included you in the group and loved lucas love for you regardless.

the people he actually cared about were all that mattered, no matter how bad he wanted everyone to see you how he did.

[damiianismwayne]

damian: what did you draw

dick: a dog and he's bored.

dick: what did you draw?

damian: a stick.

dick: a stick?

damian: a stick from the park WHERE YOU PROMISED TO TAKE ME TODAY

dick: name a country beginning with V :)

jason: venezuela!

tim: vinland-

dick: huh??

jason: vinland?

tim: vinland

jason: OH MY DAYS! LOW IT! DONT CHAT TO ME! YOU SAID WHAT-

tim: i said vinland...

jason: VINLAND?!

jason: YOURE ON SOME JOKE TING

tim: he said F blud!

jason: whatchu said-

dick: 'V'!

jason: V.

tim: venus!

jason and dick:

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA

dick: fuck you. I HOPE YOUR WHOLE FAMILY HAS A NICE CHRISTMAS.

jason: i'm sorry, but i just cant support the existence of white people. thats not right.

damian: oh really? whats that.

tim:

jason: an exception.

damian: would you... still... love me.. if i was ga-

bruce: hm? if what?

damian: no that was the question-

dick: what did you get tim for his birthday?

jason: i got him a kitten.

dick: really?! me too!

stephanie: i also got him a cat!

duke: looks like we had the same idea!

jason: duke, please... tell me you didnt get tim a cat as well..

bruce: i got him... a kitten.

tim with the 5 cats around his room: THIS IS THE BEST BIRTHDAY EVER

dick: i'm also dressed, and- i made BREAKFAST.

dick: wait, where are my eggs-

damian: in my belly.

tim: why do you have a jojo siwa backpack?

damian: why are you such a fucking bitch.

tim: jesus fuck...

criminal running away from batman:

tim: look at this guy runnin.

tim: tf you runnin for?

tim: somebody chasin' u or something??

tim: ...

tim: OH FUCK WE CHASIN HIM-

damian: sis is this you right here in this alley?

jason: sister if you see a bitch in the alleyway with a dome-shaped red helmet over his head that is NOT me. GO. THE. OTHER. WAY.

joker as red hood:

damian: who is thissss-

dick: those are my favorite roast potatoes :)

jason: ill have you know...

jason: dick grayson.

jason: that those are actually MY favorite roast potatoes.

jason: so ill let ya off easy this time, dick grayson.

jason: with just this lil warnin.

jason: they cant be both our favorites, now, can they?

batman: what the-

terry: im batman. i need you to come with me

batman: who the heck are you?

terry: i just told you- listen. im from the future.

batman: how dare you point at me?

terry: you were pointing first

batman: rude to point.

terry: YOU ARE BEING VERY RUDE YOURE NOT EVEN FROM-

dick: which one pointed first?

damian: batman pointed first! obviously!

terry: YOURE POINTING AT ME RIGHT NOW!

batman: youre pointing.

terry: LOOK AT YOUR FINGER. LOOK AT YOUR FINGER RIGHT NOW-

batman: its different from normal pointing.

terry: YOURE ACCUSING ME OF POINTING WHY-

jason: alr important question for our friendship. when you go to the movie theatre do you ask for extra butter or regular butter? or no butter?

dick: i put skittles. not skittles- m&ms with the popcorn

jason: alr im gonna remove richard from this call-

dick: HOLD ON PLEA-

jason: something devilish has been brewing within me for years on end that will only escape through the means of physical violence.