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thelostmagicians · 11 months

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Booksmart | Steve Harrington

Summary: Steve Harrington’s head may be full of air, but his heart is full of love. [4.4k]

Fluff, comfort, slight angst, insecure Steve

♡

Steve Harrington isn’t a genius. He barely passed his classes in high school, couldn’t get into college, and can barely keep his minimum wage job. He’s been belittled by his parents too many times to care about their opinion and he knows compared to his friends he isn’t as clever or witty, but he’s okay with it - at least he thinks he is. It might sting when Robin and Eddie tease him for being too slow or when Dustin sighs in frustration because he can’t keep up, but the ache dissipates when they look at him in adoration.

He blames his failing love life on his lack of intelligence. Although girls find his himbo-ness endearing, his relationships never last long. Most of the dates he goes on end up as dirty hookups in the backseat of his car and on the off chance a girl stays longer than a month he can slowly see the irritation replace the endearment in her eyes. He was just something to do during the inbetween phase of graduation and moving out of Hawkins, a trophy to conquer - to finally have slept with the previously known King. He used to be okay with that at the beginning, he got his needs met while girls crossed him off their list, but over time he craved more. He saw how Nancy looked at Jonathan, how Joyce laughed with Hopper, and how Robin blushed around Vickie. He was desperate for that feeling of being wanted and loved.

Even though he's surrounded by people who love and accept him as he is, he can't help but wonder if things would’ve been different if he was just a little smarter.

“Robin I’m telling you she started speaking a different language halfway through dinner,” Steve grumbles as he’s shelving the horror section.

Robin rolls her eyes at him, “Just because you don’t understand the words she’s using doesn’t mean she was speaking a different language, Steven. I don’t even think she knows anything but English.

Steve sighs under his breath.

He had gone on another date last night, but didn’t even make it past the appetizers before he made up an emergency and left. The night started off great, the Indiana summer evening had a cool breeze, he opened the door for her, and was rewarded with a kiss on his cheek when he presented her with flowers. Valerie had been nice, beautiful, and smart - maybe a little too smart for Steve. Don’t get him wrong, Steve loves strong, smart, and capable women. He loved hearing Valerie speak about physics and graphing linear equations, he loved learning about what interested her, but as the night went on he could see the light in her eyes fading as he kept asking her questions. The final straw had been when he told her he hasn’t read a book since high school and she laughed lightly before saying “you really are only a pretty face.”

“Maybe, I’m just destined to be alone, or like a back up plan for girls who come back to Hawkins after giving up on their big city dreams.”

Robin sighs and gives him a reassuring pat, “Steve, you’re a good man. You’ll find your one, trust me on this.”

Before he can say more the bell jingles as a gust of hot air is let in. Steve groans as he spots Dustin’s mop of curly hair and hears the chatter of 6 other teens. He holds the door open with his arm as he sees Lucas struggling with Max’s wheelchair.

“You guys can’t keep coming in here, Robin and I actually have work to do you know.”

“We wanted to pick a movie for movie night,” Max says.

He sighs softly as he meets her eyes. Steve’s always had a soft spot for Max ever since they’ve met and it’s only gotten softer since then, everyone knows this, but the kids tend to take advantage of this and use Max to get their way.

“Alright two movies max and no rated r ones.”

As he hears the bell jingle again he starts his greeting in a monotone voice, “Welcome to Family Video, my name is St—” he chokes.

“Oh my god, are you okay?” you ask softly.

He’s still coughing and panting slightly as he tries to give you a reassuring nod. Robin makes her way to the front to hand Steve some water and finish introductions.

“What he means to say is his name is Steve and I’m Robin. You can come get us if you have any questions.”

You nod politely, finally tearing your gaze away from Steve as you start browsing through the racks. Steve, however, can’t seem to stop looking at you. He’s seen a lot of beautiful women in his life, but none of them held a candle to you. Everything about you was just perfect to him and he didn’t even know you yet. His eyes repeatedly traced the slope of your nose, down to your plush lips, and back to your furrowed eyebrows as you read the back of a tape.

You lift your head up and he blushes as you make eye contact.

“Do you have any recommendations for sci-fi, I just moved to town and need something to keep me from getting bored?” you ask shyly.

“Err- We have a sci-fi section over there” Steve points to the rack behind him where the kids are gathered and quietly arguing over which movie to pick.

You speak as you make your way over, “Yeah, but do you have any recommendations for me? I feel like I’ve seen all the good ones already.”

Steve's face falls as he tries to come up with an answer.

“Have you seen Star Wars?” Dustin speaks up

Max and El groan loudly as you shake your head.

“I tend to stay away from franchises, but what’s it about?”

Before Dustin can answer, Mike beats him to it, “It’s about galactic adventures of these characters, it’s pretty cool.”

“We were planning on watching it tonight, we always have movie nights at Steve’s on Friday. You should join us!” Dustin exclaims as he tries to shoot Steve a sly wink.

Your eyes grow wide at the sudden invitation as Steve rests his head in his hands too embarrassed to speak.

“Is that alright with you, Steve?” You ask kindly.

Steve’s breath hitches as he hears you say his name, he slowly meets your gaze as he gives you a slight nod trying to avoid choking on air again.

Robin smirks at Steve as she hands you a post-it, “Here’s Steve’s address. Movie starts at 7 and bring as many snacks as you’d like!”

You grab the post-it and shoot everyone a small wave “I’ll see you guys then!”

Steve feels like he can finally breathe after he hears the soft slam of the door behind you.

“I can’t believe you would do that, just invite a stranger to my home like that,” Steve groans as he fixes his hair, again, in the hallway mirror. He glances down at his polo debating if he should change his shirt for the fourth time.

“Steve, she agreed to come while seeing you in a Family Video vest, I don’t think your outfit is what you should be worried about,” Jonathan teases him as he passes him a coke.

Steve shoots him a sarcastic smile before checking his watch. It’s 7:02, you should’ve shown up 2 minutes ago and he’s a nervous wreck. He sees your headlights before anyone else does and trips over Will’s backpack as he waits to open the door on the very first knock.

“Sorry I’m late, the petit fours took longer than expected.” You smile at him holding out a large container filled with small cakes.

He gives you a confused look too embarrassed to ask what petit fours are, so instead he takes the container and waves you in.

“What brings you to Hawkins?” Eddie asks.

“I actually came here for work, Hawkins laboratory needed another scientist to look at all the crazy stuff that’s happened here.”

Everyone basks in the uncomfortable silence as you mention the lab before Nancy speaks up, “You work as a scientist? You seem pretty young.”

You hesitate slightly, folding your hands in your lap, “I am young, but I graduated college at 16 and recently got my PhD and my advisor recommended me for this job, so here I am.”

Steve’s heart falls to his stomach, you were a genius, a child prodigy of some sort and you’ve accomplished so much at such a young age. There was no way you would even be slightly interested in him, but part of him was willing to take that risk - be okay with whatever you spared him because it was better than not having you in his life at all.

The movie is ignored as everyone pays more attention to you and your genius-ness. He hears voices all at once but all he can focus on is yours. The way your laugh ends in a higher pitch than it starts in, the way you softly reassure Nancy that college isn’t hard, but his favorite is when you say his name when you ask for his opinion on the theories the kids present to you. It makes him feel important like you care about what he has to say and you value his thoughts just as much as you would anyone else’s.

Steve might’ve only met you today, but he was already enamored. You might’ve knowingly opened the door only to Family Video, but you also unknowingly opened the door to his heart and started to fill every corner of it with you.

Steve doesn’t think he’s read this much in his entire existence as he has this month.

The first thing he did the morning after movie night was go to the library and check out as many books as he could about everything that sounded smart. He’s inhaled almost every book on poetry (specifically Shakespeare), astrophysics and European history. You’ve come to every movie night since the first one and you try your best to visit Family Video after work just to chat with Steve and Robin. He was slowly falling in love with you and he wasn’t going to let his dumb brain be the reason he lost you. He forcefully read every book from cover to cover, prying his eyes open with the memory of your impressed smile anytime he fell asleep. He’s made countless flashcards and pesters Robin to quiz them during their shift.

After two months of revising and memorizing he thinks he finally finds the courage to ask you out. You’re the last one to leave tonight, helping Steve clean up after everyone either left or claimed a spare room.

Steve’s hands are clammy as he ties the trash bag into a pretty bow, “I was wondering if… I mean you don’t have to… but umm, like if you wanted to go out. With me, I mean.”

Your eyes trace his face as you clench the empty red vines wrapper, “You mean like a date?”

Steve nods, unsure of your reaction. Part of him hopes you’ll say no and put him out of his misery, so he can finally stop learning, but a bigger part of him hopes you’ll give him a chance.

Your lips upturn in a shy smile as you fiddle your thumbs, “Yeah, I’d like that a lot. What did you have in mind?”

“How about next Friday, we ditch the losers and have our movie night? I’ll pick you up at 7 and we can catch a movie?”

You respond with a quick kiss on his cheek as you grab your purse and head out. Steve rests his head on the back of the door as he pumps his fist in the air and tries his hardest to not wake Robin and Eddie with his cheering.

You’re nervous as you pace in front of your door. Steve makes you nervous, but you don’t hate the feeling. You’ve never felt this way about a boy before, boys always had a competition with you, a majority of your dates ended up with the two of you trying to up each other with accomplishments, but with Steve everything is different. Even though the facts he tells are wrong, it was still endearing to watch him try.

You’re broken out of your thoughts with a knock on your door. You smooth down your dress and look in the mirror once more before swinging the door open. Steve stands there in all his glory, hair perfectly done, snug jeans, and a bouquet of flowers covering his stupidly handsome face.

“These are for you,” he pushes the bouquet towards you with a surprise force that you have to step back to avoid them pressing into your nose.

“Thanks Steve, they’re beautiful.” You set them down gently at the nearby table mentally making a note to find a vase after you come back home.

He opens his car door for you, waiting until you’re settled in before jogging back to his side. “There’s a French movie playing tonight, I think it’s about Marie - Annette, you know the queen who liked cake?”

You giggle quietly but opt to ignore his mistake because he just looked too fucking cute with furrowed eyebrows and a nervous smile.

“And after the movie I was thinking we can stop by somewhere for a late night snack?”

You nod excitedly eager to finally spend time with him far away from the eyes of your prying friends, “I didn’t know you knew French?”

“Uh, yeah.”

The movie was… boring and bland. Steve didn’t understand anything happening so instead spent the entire time admiring you, the furrow of your eyebrows, the tilt of your head, and the gentle bite of your lip. He remembered you mentioning to Robin that you were fluent in French, so thought a foreign film would be a good idea for a first date, but now he regrets his choice especially since you spent the drive to the diner asking him questions about the movie. Questions he didn’t know the answer to. Steve has charmed his way through life, but he wasn’t sure how much longer his charm would last with you, he had an inkling that sooner or later you would be able to see through his facade and you would see him as a disappointment.

You had a hunch that Steve was lying about knowing French and your hunch was confirmed when his shoulders tensed as the ticket guy told him the movie didn’t have English subtitles. He played it off with a laugh and a wave of his hand, but you could tell it made him nervous. You thought the movie was alright, but your favorite part was feeling Steve’s eyes on you. You try to be mindful when asking him questions, keeping them vague and more about opinions rather than asking him questions that have a right or wrong answer. He responds as vaguely as possible, gauging your reaction to see if you’re pleased with his answer or if he needs to backtrack and fix his opinion.

Your conversation at the diner starts to get more personal as you ask each other about your likes and dislikes. You learn that Steve broke his arm learning to ride a bike, his favorite color is green, and he’s always wanted a dog. Everything you learn about Steve just makes you like him even more and the potential of falling in love with him makes you giddy with happiness. Your hands brush occasionally as you walk back to his car. He bites his lip hesitating to grab your hand as he peeks at you from the corner of his eye. You make the decision for the both of you and take a hold of his hand swinging both your arms as he blushes.

“You’re really cute Steve Harrington,” you say as you force him to face you before gently pushing your lips to his.

You spend every free time you have with Steve now. It’s been a month since your first date and since then you’ve gone out plenty of times and if you’re not physically together then you’re talking for hours on the phone. Steve’s able to open up to you more than he has to anyone else and it’s only been a few months of knowing you but he knows he’s in love, yet he can’t ask you to be his girlfriend. He does everything a boyfriend should do, calling you during breaks, kissing your bad days away, and hugging you just right when you’re on the verge of tears, but he still can’t find the courage to ask you to be his, officially.

You express your concern to Nancy and Robin at an impromptu girls night, thrown together after a rough week for all of you.

“I just don’t know why he won’t ask me, I always want to ask him myself before I see him, but then I lose my nerve. Maybe he doesn’t even like me like that and I’m just reading into things,” you whine as you smear a homemade face mask on Robin's face.

“Trust me, Steve is a goner for you,” Nancy replies as she squints to make sure her brushes on the nail polish perfectly.

“Nance is right, Steve is in love with you, but you just make him nervous.”

“I don’t understand why though, how do I make him nervous when he’s Steve Harrington,” you sigh dreamily.

Nancy and Robin giggle as they see the childish frown on your face. You push your face into a pillow whining into it like a petulant child.

Nancy rubs your back gently, “Look it’s not my place to say, but Steve isn’t the smartest tool academically. And you’re this child prodigy and that makes him nervous.”

Robin nods in agreement, “Yeah, you do know he spent months reading all sorts of books just to impress you right? He isn’t actually as smart as he pretends to be. He just memorizes a bunch of stuff the days leading up to your date.”

You huff in annoyance, “Yeah, I knew that on our first date when he took me to that French film. But I don’t love him because he can tell me facts about the mesozoic era. I love him because he’s him.”

Nancy and Robin share a knowing look.

“You love him?” Robin whispers.

“What?”

“You just said you love him,” Nancy clarifies.

You breathe in deeply before letting it out, the weight of what you said finally sinking in. “Yeah, I do. I really do.”

Both girls squeal as they pull you into a hug, face masks and nail polish quickly forgotten.

You fall asleep that night knowing the next time you see Steve you’ll tell him. Tell him how much you love him and how he means to you.

Unfortunately for you and Steve, you aren’t able to spend any time alone lately. Work is crazy for the both of you and any time you have off it’s spent with the group. While you love spending time with your friends, you’re dying for a second alone with Steve. A second that only you both can cherish when you finally tell him how you feel.

You’re hoping you can finally catch a moment alone with Steve at the summer bonfire by Lover’s Lake. Almost every young adult in Hawkins comes out of hiding for this annual bonfire, usually thrown by college kids as a final hurrah before summer break is officially over. You hung out with Nancy and Robin for a while and meet some new people, but you’re aren’t able to find the one person you want to see. You finally spot him parking his car and hurriedly shoving his family video vest in the trunk, but before you call out to him you’re blocked by a freckled boy wearing a smug smile.

“Well if it isn’t the new genius of Hawkins,” the boy teases, voice filled with malice.

You smile politely, “I’m sorry you’re–”

“I’m Hagan. Tommy Hagan, surprised Steve hasn’t mentioned me considering we used to be the best of friends before he became a loser.”

You’ve heard about Tommy, mostly through passing from Nancy and Jonathan and based on Steve’s disgruntled face every time his name was mentioned, you decided Tommy Hagan wasn’t worth your time.

“How can I help you?” You ask in a monotone voice to show how disinterested you are.

Before Tommy can start you feel a pair of arms wrap around your waist and lips brush against the side of your head. You turn to see Steve’s grimace at Tommy before his eyes soften landing on you.

“Hi hon,” he whispers gently, his left arm moving from caressing your hip to soothing the ache in your shoulder.

“Hey baby.” For a second it’s just the two of you lost in each other’s eyes, you wonder if everyone else can see how lovesick you are for Steve. Before you can whisk him away for yourself Tommy interrupts again.

“Damn, Harrington. Didn’t think I’d see you go all soft again after what Wheeler did to you.”

You rolled your eyes at the mention of Nancy. It’s been years, both Steve and Nancy were over it, being happy for each other and supporting each other as friends. Yet everyone still brought it up because they had no other dirt on Steve.

“Didn’t know you were home for the summer Tommy,” Steve replies ready to end the conversation with his former friend.

At this point you see Jonathan and Eddie glancing from their spot near the fire. Both of them looking at Steve, silently asking him if he needed them. Steve shakes his head at them and squeezes your shoulder readying to lead you away.

“Yeah, summer is the only time I have off now. Between college and my internship. It’s hard out there man, but you wouldn’t know that, would you?” Tommy smirks knowingly as he pushes Steve’s buttons. He knows college has always been a sore spot for Steve especially since he was still stuck working at Family Video.

Steve grunts in response hoping his disinterest is enough to stray Tommy away from the both of you, but with Steve’s luck Tommy turns his attention to you.

“Surprised he can keep up with a genius like you sweetheart.”

You wrinkled your nose in disgust, the term of endearment turning sour coming from a mouth other than Steve’s.

Tommy continues to go on, swaying from the few too many drinks he’s had. “Did he tell you he barely passed high school? His dad complained to mine about how much of a disappointment he turned out to be. Can’t even get a job at his dad’s firm with the brain he has.”

Steve loosens his grip around your shoulder, cheeks flushing in embarrassment.

“You’re telling me your girl hasn’t caught on to the kind of screw up you are Harrington? You sure she’s a genius, or maybe you found someone that aligns with your IQ.”

At this point everyone is watching the words fly out of Tommy’s mouth, some snickering others shooting Steve looks of pity. Tommy Hagan is ripping him to shreds in front of everyone and yet all he can focus on is you. A look of disappointment mixed with frustration glazing over your otherwise sweet disposition. He sees his friends pushing their way through the crowd but before they could defend him he hears your honey like voice calling out for Tommy.

“What university did you say you go to, Tommy?” you ask sweetly.

“Indiana University of Business,” he smirks behind his beer.

“And I’m assuming your daddy paid for it? Cause you sure as hell didn’t get into school by your merit, considering you spent most of high school with your head so far up people’s asses that you couldn’t get enough oxygen to your brain. Hence, why you and your stupid ass are still playing into high school politics at your grown ass age.”

The smugness on Tommy’s face disappears.

“And what do you want to do with your future Tommy? Join daddy’s business? Turn out exactly like him? Cause last I heard he spends more time with his new family than he does with you. Maybe he finally got a child he actually loves.”

You knew it was a low blow, bringing up Tommy’s family issues, but you couldn’t care less. After everything he said to Steve, he had it coming and you only wish you were around in high school so you could’ve put him in his place earlier.

You heard a low whistle from Eddie, “Well guess the shows over folks. And looks like we have a clear winner.”

People start clearing out going back to mind their own business and you grab Steve’s arm leading him far away from Tommy’s frozen stance.

“Guess the secret’s out,” Steve mumbles.

“Huh?”

“Now you know I’m not really smart, so..” he trails off.

You smile, arms twisting around his waist pulling him close. “You know, I’ve met a lot of smart people in my life, but don't you dare, even for a second take Tommy’s words to heart. Because I know you, and I know that you’re the greatest person I’ve ever met.”

Steve pinches your chin, holding your gaze before whispering out a shy “yeah?”

You hear the insecurity laced in his voice as you nod fervently. “I kinda figured you weren’t as smart as you let on from our first date, but I said yes because even though you aren’t a brainiac you have a heart of gold. I see the way you take care of the kids, how you take care of your friends. And I love how you take care of me. I love you and everything about you, Steve Harrington.”

Steve blushes, his cheeks turn a rosy hue as he grabs your waist pressing his lips to yours in a kiss so sweet you think you’ll get a toothache.

“You really love me?”

“I really do.”

Steve presses another kiss before murmuring out an I love you against your lips.

Yeah, Steve Harrington is stupid. Stupidly in love with you.

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mostlysignssomeportents · 7 months

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A taxonomy of corporate bullshit

Next Tuesday (Oct 31) at 10hPT, the Internet Archive is livestreaming my presentation on my recent book, The Internet Con.

There are six lies that corporations have told since time immemorial, and Nick Hanauer, Joan Walsh and Donald Cohen's new book Corporate Bullsht: Exposing the Lies and Half-Truths That Protect Profit, Power, and Wealth in America* provides an essential taxonomy of this dirty six:

https://thenewpress.com/books/corporate-bullsht

In his review for The American Prospect, David Dayen summarizes how these six lies "offer a civic-minded, reasonable-sounding justification for positions that in fact are motivated entirely by self-interest":

https://prospect.org/culture/books/2023-10-27-lies-my-corporation-told-me-hanauer-walsh-cohen-review/

I. Pure denial

As far back as the slave trade, corporate apologists and mouthpieces have led by asserting that true things are false, and vice-versa. In 1837, John Calhoun asserted that "Never before has the black race of Central Africa, from the dawn of history to the present day, attained a condition so civilized and so improved, not only physically, but morally and intellectually." George Fitzhugh called enslaved Africans in America "the freest people in the world."

This tactic never went away. Children sent to work in factories are "perfectly happy." Polluted water is "purer than the water that came from the river before we used it." Poor families "don't really exist." Pesticides don't lead to "illness or death." Climate change is "beneficial." Lead "helps guard your health."

II. Markets can solve problems, governments can't

Alan Greenspan made a career out of blithely asserting that markets self-correct. It was only after the world economy imploded in 2008 that he admitted that his doctrine had a "flaw":

https://www.pbs.org/newshour/show/greenspan-admits-flaw-to-congress-predicts-more-economic-problems

No matter how serious a problem is, the market will fix it. In 1973, the US Chamber of Commerce railed against safety regulations, because "safety is good business," and could be left to the market. If unsafe products persist in the market, it's because consumers choose to trade safety off "for a lower price tag" (Chamber spox Laurence Kraus). Racism can't be corrected with anti-discrimination laws. It's only when "the market" realizes that racism is bad for business that it will finally be abolished.

III. Consumers and workers are to blame

In 1946, the National Coal Association blamed rampant deaths and maimings in the country's coal-mines on "carelessness on the part of men." In 2003, the National Restaurant Association sang the same tune, condemning nutritional labels because "there are not good or bad foods. There are good and bad diets." Reagan's interior secretary Donald Hodel counseled personal responsibility to address a thinning ozone layer: "people who don’t stand out in the sun—it doesn’t affect them."

IV. Government cures are always worse than the disease

Lee Iacocca called 1970's Clean Air Act "a threat to the entire American economy and to every person in America." Every labor and consumer protection before and since has been damned as a plague on American jobs and prosperity. The incentive to work can't survive Social Security, welfare or unemployment insurance. Minimum wages kill jobs, etc etc.

V. Helping people only hurts them

Medicare will "destroy private initiative for our aged to protect themselves with insurance" (Republican Senator Milward Simpson, 1965). Covid relief is unfair to people that are currently in the workforce" (Republican Governor Brian Kemp, 2021). Welfare produces "learned helplessness."

VI. Everyone who disagrees with me is a socialist

Grover Cleveland's 2% on top incomes is "communistic warfare against rights of property" (NY Tribune, 1895). "Socialized medicine" will leave "our children and our children’s children [asking] what it once was like in America when men were free" (Reagan, 1961).

Everything is "socialism": anti-child labor laws, Social Security, minimum wages, family and medical leave. Even fascism is socialism! In 1938, the National Association of Manufacturers called labor rights "communism, bolshevism, fascism, and Nazism."

As Dayen says, it's refreshing to see how the right hasn't had an original idea in 150 years, and simply relies on repeating the same nonsense with minor updates. Right wing ideological innovation consists of finding new ways to say, "actually, your boss is right."

The left's great curse is object permanence: the ability to remember things, like the fact that it used to be possible for a worker to support a family of five on a single income, or that the economy once experienced decades of growth with a 90%+ top rate of income tax (other things the left manages to remember: the "intelligence community" are sociopathic monsters, not Trump-slaying heroes).

When the business lobby rails against long-overdue antitrust action against Amazon and Google, object permanence puts it all in perspective. The talking points about this being job-destroying socialism are the same warmed-over nonsense used to defend rail-barons and Rockefeller. "If you don't like it, shop elsewhere," has been the corporate apologist's line since slavery times.

As Dayen says, Corporate Bullshit is a "reference book for conservative debating points, in an attempt to rob them of their rhetorical power." It will be out on Halloween:

https://bookshop.org/a/54985/9781620977514

If you'd like an essay-formatted version of this post to read or share, here's a link to it on pluralistic.net, my surveillance-free, ad-free, tracker-free blog:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/10/27/six-sells/#youre-holding-it-wrong

#pluralistic #corporate bullshit #lies #books #reviews #taxonomies #labor #denialism #consumerism #Nick Hanauer #Joan Walsh #Donald Cohen #history #object permanence #taking the right seriously

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mandosaur · 7 months

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This Little Slice of Life (Mike Schmidt x Reader)

Fandom: Five Nights at Freddy's Film

Pairing: Mike Schmidt x Reader

Word Count: 1,025

Estimated Reading Time: 3:43

Summary:

A tiny little drabble that takes place before the film's events.

When you imagined what your life was going to be like as an adult, you didn’t imagine this.

In your dreams, you saw yourself as a world famous pop star. You imagined yourself in sequin dresses that would cost a fortune standing before a stage of wild fans all screaming your name. You saw yourself on every magazine cover, touring every country, and attending the Met Gala. Paparazzi would flash your photos in your day dreams all while you rode in a limo spending thousands on any little thing that caught your fancy. You had always imagined a life of luxury and wealth for yourself as an adult.

You never imagined your current life.

You never imagined that you’d be in your mid twenties still living in the same street you grew up in. Never imagined that the fancy little college degree you got to appease your parents would bring you nothing but student loans that kept piling on. You didn’t think you’d be working some dead end job for minimum wage at a company with a shitty boss and worse hours just barely scraping by.

However, despite the huge deviation from what your childhood dreams believed would be a good future for you, you find you can’t be happier.

There’s something warm and familiar in the way your life works. Like a puzzle piece clicking together, everything just seems to work. Your life isn’t glamorous or extravagant the way your elementary school dreams all mapped out, but you wouldn’t trade it for the world.

Hell, you wouldn’t trade Mike or Abby for the world either.

Mike and Abby were perhaps the greatest riches you had. Mike had been your childhood best friend. You’d met him in the first day of Pre-K. A little boy holding a metal, superhero lunch box while his mom and dad kissed him goodbye. You’d befriended him on the playground of that first day and formed a friendship that had lasted all your lives.

You’d known him forever. Been there for him when Garrett had been taken, when his parents had died, and when he’d become Abby’s guardian. You’d always been there at his side.

First as a friend, then as a lover.

When you both turned 16, you had started dating. A simple choice between you both. By then, you’d both loved each other and had been pining for years. It was only natural for the two of you to start dating. Both of your parents encouraged the shift and the two of you were very happy.

10 years later, and the two of you had been together for a long time. You’d moved into the little home he shared with Abby. You shared his bedroom and was there to take care of Abby when Max couldn’t. Abby too was a joy in your life.

She had been born when you two were older and you and Mike had become her guardians. Abby really only knew the two of you. She doted on Mike, treasured him deeply if her drawings with him center stage were anything to go by, but she adored you too. She talked to you more than other kids her age, liked you staying home with her when your work allowed it, and drew you in some of her drawings holding hands with her and Mike.

She was a little gift in the life you had just like Mike. You loved them both deeply to the point where nothing else mattered.

To you, it didn’t matter that both you and Mike didn’t have money. Between your student loans and both your minimum wage paychecks, you two weren’t raking in much. Neither of you could boast being wealthy, hell, sometimes you couldn’t even boast being comfortable either.

But that didn’t matter.

Every day that you woke up to that poster of Nebraska on the ceiling and Mike next to you, every day that you got home to Max and Abby in the kitchen table working on homework, and every day that you were able to kiss Mike when he got home from work from the mall covered in fast food stains and all, none of it mattered. Not the debt, not the hardships, and not the struggles.

This little slice of life you’d built with Mike and Abby were paradise. Even if Mike’s aunt threatened custody every once in a while, even if Mike sometimes came home flushed and upset with a new termination notice in hand from his current job, and even if Abby sometimes preferred to talk to her imaginary friends than join you and Mike for dinner. Despite it all, this little home the three of you shared was your personal heaven.

And when Mike came home one day and suggested the two of you marry after talking to Abby, your little paradise increased.

Your wedding wouldn’t be anything that would elicit chatter among your friends. At most, you two would just wear your nicest clothes in your closet and walk down to the court house with cheap rings from Amazon. At most, your honeymoon would be a day where Max took Abby to her house and you and Mike ordered some take out from that Italian place in the mall that was about as fancy as any other fast food place. At most, you’d probably have one weekend to celebrate being married before Mike went to work at the mall and you back to your shitty job.

But it didn’t matter.

You loved Mike and Abby enough to the point where all of that sounded like a luxury. It might not have been the fancy delusions child you had about your future, but it was home. Mike and Abby had always been your home and any moment spent with them was better than whatever money could buy.

So, smiling, you had accepted Mike’s proposal and enveloped him and Abby in a tight hug. Had laughed when you felt Mike’s grin against your cheek and heard Abby’s little giggle against your arms.

Your life might not have been much to someone else, but to you it was paradise. A treasure nothing could ever replace.

#mike schmidt x reader #mike schmidt x you #mike schmidt #mike schmidt fnaf #divider by Saradika #michael schmidt x reader

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brucewaynehater101 · 5 days

Note

I do have a few more examples! Tim offers Mister Freeze unlimited funding to help his wife on the condition that he sometimes helps with other projects. He hires Harvey Dent to be his personal lawyer (not that he needs one). Blood Sport, Death Stroke, Dead Shot, and many other mercenaries are hired to "break into" Drake Industries to hunt down and "kill" Tim or "steal" important information in order to test his companies defenses and tell him exactly how they got in so that he can patch any holes. He hires one to break in every 2 to 3 months but never the same person in a year. Like if he uses Deathstroke in August he can't use him again until January.

Tim also doesn't want to force these rouges to move far away from their homes so he opens up branches in Metropolis, Central City, Star City, and others too. Anywhere he opens an office for Drake Industries, crime rate always plummets thanks to him hiring all the Henchmen and giving them stable jobs that pay at minimum double the minimum wage of the area plus really good health insurance and other benefits. They even have dental and 4 months paid maternity *and* paternity leave! The desk work may not be as exciting as their previous jobs but boy is it safer.

Also I would like to make one note. DI is one of the few major cooperations in America that openly does *not* donate to the Jusitce Leauge. Tim is still salty about Bruce Quest and during an interview where someone asked how much he donates to them, Tim said, "oh I don't. At all. It's not that I don't believe in them, I do, uts just. There's already so many places funding them they don't need me. But you know who does? The younger generation of heroes. Did you know that The Teen Titans only get funding through the Justice Leauge? I don't think that's very fair so I donate to them. I donate to Young Justice. I track down and do research on dozens of younger heroes who aren't part of any organization and check to make sure they're doing good in their community and then I directly donate to them. Superheroing is expensive, just look how much the JL spends on it! Could you imagine? Being fresh out of high-school, working a minimum wage job, and having to make your own suit and gadgets while also paying for *college*? The stories I have heard from some of them! This one poor kid, he told me that he had to use this roll of regular fabric he found in a dumpster because buying a roll was to expensive! Of course I sent him to a super hero tailor on my own dime, after all he just wanted to help his community saving kittens from trees and stopping local mugging. But still, small heroes like him are important. After all, didn't Superman start by saving cats from trees? Didn't Green Arrow start by stopping a mugging? Didn't Batman himself start by stopping a purse snatching? You never know who the next big hero will be in 5 or ten years."

I might have gotten a bit to into that rant. Listen. Listen this is a subject close to my heart. Small Time Heroes Are Important!

My gods, I love this so so much. You combined two tropes I love: Tim using Business to fund social programs/decrease crime/hire ex felons and criminals, and Tim turning his back on the JL after the BruceQuest.

Added with Tim funding small time heroes???? This is phenomenal

#dc comics #tim drake #dc universe #thank you for the ask!!!!#dc au

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rafesapologist · 4 months

Text

the set up — rafe cameron; part twenty

summary: you've been one of the pogues since childhood, and your loyalty has always lied within your friend group, who is practically your family. when a threat by the name of rafe cameron begins to threaten the pogue's plans, they assign you to gain the trust of the dubious kook and keep an eye on what he's up to. however, now it's been six months since your friends set you up to spy on the kook prince himself, but what you didn't anticipate was to fall head over heels for the boy. your relationship had soon become inviolable shortly after your guys' first exchanges, much to your friends' dismay, and you two became practically inseperable. that was, until rafe discovers the truth.

warnings: a lot of angst, mentions of mental health issues, time jump

author's note: good luck

It's been six months since you last saw Rafe Cameron.

The last conversation you both had was anything but pleasant, the words still stinging in your mind. The truth spilled out of you like a dam breaking, revealing the set-up against him that you and your friends had concocted. He pleaded for you to stay, his heart shattered into tiny pieces, and against your better judgement, you spent the night with him.

But as the sun rose and reality sank in, you knew it was best for you to leave before he woke up. You made a promise to give him space, hoping that he would come around on his own. But as days turned into weeks and then months, you never heard from him again.

Unable to face him at the golf course where he frequently visited, you quit your job there and found a new one at the Beach Club alongside JJ. The long hours and minimum wage were far from ideal, but it was enough to sustain you and JJ as you waited for your friends to return from hiding. In those moments, JJ became your lifeline - the only person who could make this unbearable situation even slightly bearable.

Each day seemed to drag on forever as you waited for that phone call from Rafe, hoping against all hope that he would forgive you and start fresh. But it never came. Slowly, a deep depression began to consume you as every day without him felt like a lifetime of agony. When you weren't working at the club, you locked yourself away in your room, trying to shut out the world and its painful reminders. Life lost its meaning as each day passed without any contact with Rafe. It felt like an endless cycle of loneliness and despair, an endless punishment for your foolish mistake.

"Hey there, how's it going, kid?" JJ inquires, coming up from behind with a pair of glass cups in each hand, interrupting your usual daydreaming routine. You straighten up your posture and forge a smile his way, watching as he scurried around the kitchen.

"Doing alright," you reply with a semi-flat tone, still somewhat detached from reality. "Is it a large gathering or something?" You motion towards the numerous cups he tossed into the sink, remnants of beer and liquor leaving their mark at the bottom.

"It was a damn party with sixteen people," he huffs, blowing loose strands of his blond hair out of his face. "Kids, parents, the whole shebang. It was a complete disaster."

You chuckle at his remark, shaking your head. "You'll have that, I guess."

"Yeah, I'm fine. Just didn't get much sleep last night, that's all." You keep your statement brief, hoping to sidestep any further scrutiny from JJ, who has a knack for probing. You're aware that his concern stems from witnessing your gradual downturn since the breakup with Rafe. Every agonizing night, he'd pass by your room in the hallway, hearing the stifled sobs, mistakenly thinking you were keeping it quiet.

The sound of clanging dishes fills the air as Sofia, your coworker, enters the kitchen. She balances a stack of dirty plates in her arms and greets you and JJ with a wide smile. Her eyes sparkle mischievously as she poses her question, "Hey guys, am I missing out on some gossip in here?"

You shake your head, amused by JJ's usual grumblings about customers, "Not much besides JJ venting."

Sofia playfully rolls her eyes and lets out a giggle at JJ's never-ending frustration with their clientele. But then her expression turns more serious as she shares her news, "But hey, I wanted to let you guys know there's gonna be a huge bonfire at the boneyard tonight. You should come."

You hesitate, unsure if attending such an event is your thing. "We'll be there," JJ interjects confidently, nudging your side with his elbow.

You turn to him with a shocked expression, surprised that he would answer for both of you without consulting you first. But JJ just looks back at you with a smug grin, knowing that you would have declined the invitation if given the chance. After all, spending your nights locked away in your room was your preferred way to unwind after a shift.

"Great! I'll see you guys later then," Sofia beams at JJ's agreement before leaving the kitchen and heading back to the dining area. "Really, JJ? You know those kinds of events aren't my thing," you scowl at him, crossing your arms over your chest. If looks could kill, JJ would be dead by now.

"Well they used to your thing," JJ retorts, his tone firm but laced with concern. "You used to love going out, having fun, being around people. It's been months since...well, since everything happened with Rafe. And honestly, I'm worried about you. You've been shutting yourself off from the world, and it's not healthy."

You stare at him for a moment, his words sinking in. Despite your initial annoyance at his presumptuousness, you can't deny that he has a point. Since the fallout with Rafe, you've become a shell of your former self, hiding away from any social interaction and drowning in your own sorrow. As much as you hate to admit it, JJ is right – you need to start living again.

"Fine," you finally concede, sighing heavily. "I'll go to the bonfire tonight."

JJ's face breaks into a wide grin, relief evident in his eyes. "That's the spirit! Trust me, you'll have a good time. And who knows, maybe it'll help take your mind off things for a little while."

You can't help but feel a flicker of hope ignite deep within you. Maybe JJ is right. Maybe getting out and being around people again will help you heal, even if just a little bit. You try to push away the thoughts of Rafe that immediately flood your mind, but they still linger, like an unwanted guest overstaying their welcome.

As the day wears on, you find yourself in a state of nervous anticipation. You carefully pick out an outfit that strikes the delicate balance between casual and put-together, not wanting to draw too much attention but also wanting to feel good about yourself. When evening falls and the sky is painted with hues of orange and pink, you make your way out to the boneyard.

The beach is alive with activity as people gather around the roaring bonfire. The sound of laughter and music fills the air, and you can feel the vibrant energy pulsating through the crowd. You take a deep breath, trying to steady your racing heart, and step into the midst of the festivities.

JJ appears by your side, a mischievous smile playing on his lips. "Ready for some fun?" he asks, his voice barely audible above the clamor of voices and music.

You nod, summoning all your courage. "Yeah, let's do this."

As you navigate through the throng of people, you catch glimpses of familiar faces from work and around town. Sofia waves at you from a group near the fire, her smile infectious. You offer her a wave in return, grateful for her invitation tonight.

As you approach the fire, the heat washes over you, and you feel its warmth seep into your bones. The crackling of the flames is hypnotic, luring you closer like a moth to a flame. You find yourself drawn to the dancing shadows that flicker against the night sky.

JJ leads you to a group of people gathered around a makeshift bar not too far from the fire. The air is thick with laughter and conversation, and the scent of toasted marshmallows mingles with the salty sea breeze. You feel a sense of belonging in this moment, as if the weight upon your shoulders is slowly being lifted.

Sofia greets you with a hug, her cheerful demeanor contagious. "I'm so glad you made it. We were starting to think you might bail!"

You laugh nervously, feeling a surge of gratitude for these people who have accepted you into their circle without question. "No chance of that now," you reply, trying to match Sofia's energy.

As the night unfolds, Sofia guides you through the lively crowd, introducing you to various friends and acquaintances. The beach is bathed in the warm glow of the bonfire, and the sound of laughter and music fills the air. You start to feel a sense of belonging, appreciating the distraction from the weight of your thoughts.

Sofia eventually leads you towards a group of people gathered near a makeshift bar. The atmosphere here is electric, with the scent of salty sea breeze mingling with the aroma of toasted marshmallows. You watch as a skilled bartender whips up drinks, and the chatter around the bar is animated.

As Sofia continues with introductions, you exchange pleasantries with the friendly faces around you. The nervous anticipation begins to ease, replaced by a growing sense of enjoyment in the company of these new friends.

Suddenly, Sofia mentions that she wants to introduce you to her close-knit group of friends, and she guides you through the crowd towards a more secluded area. The noise from the bonfire and the distant waves becomes a distant hum as you navigate through the lively gathering.

Sofia's friends are engaged in conversation, their laughter punctuating the night air. You offer polite smiles as Sofia introduces you to each person in the group—Topper, Kelce, and then, the name that makes your heart skip a beat, Rafe.

The moment your eyes lock onto Rafe's, a wave of emotions crashes over you. His appearance, altered since the last time you saw him, is evident in the buzzcut that replaces his once unruly hair. His eyes, once filled with a youthful spark, now carry the weight of experiences and challenges. They appear more mature but also worn down, leaving you to wonder if the breakup and its aftermath have taken a toll on him.

Your heart pounds in your chest, each beat echoing the unresolved feelings and unspoken words between you two. The unrelenting gaze he holds sends shivers down your spine, a mixture of nostalgia and regret flooding your senses. It's as if time stands still, encapsulating the raw essence of the moment and the complex emotions entwined in your shared history.

Sofia, oblivious to the sudden shift in atmosphere, continues with the introductions. "This is Y/N, she works with me at the Beach Club. Y/N, meet Topper, Kelce, and, of course, Rafe."

You offer a polite smile, trying to maintain composure despite the tension emanating from Rafe. The silence stretches, and the unspoken words hang heavily in the air. Rafe remains silent, his intense gaze locked onto yours. The once-familiar connection now carries an undeniable weight, and the emotions between you are palpable. The distance between you and Rafe feels both vast and intimate, the unspoken tension hanging heavy in the air. His silence speaks volumes, and the unspoken dialogue between you becomes a poignant narrative of the time that has passed.

The sight of Sofia walking up beside Rafe, followed by his embrace, sends a sinking feeling straight to your heart. A knot tightens in your stomach as you watch the two of them, and Sofia's words hit you like a sudden storm. "Y/N, meet my boyfriend, Rafe," she says, her voice filled with happiness.

Shock sets in, and your world seems to tilt on its axis. The revelation that Rafe, the person you once shared everything with, has found solace and companionship with Sofia creates a sense of nausea. The emotions swirling within you are a tumultuous mix of disbelief, betrayal, and a deep ache that seems to resonate with each beat of your heart.

Your gaze remains fixed on them, unable to look away from the scene unfolding before you. The bonfire's glow casts a surreal light on the trio, emphasizing the complexity of the situation. Questions flood your mind, and you find yourself grappling with the harsh reality of Rafe moving on while you're still entangled in the aftermath.

With a flat tone, you manage to say, "We've met before," acknowledging the shared history that once connected you and Rafe. The air grows heavy, and his jaw clenches even tighter, creating an unspoken tension that hangs between you two. The weight of unspoken words and unresolved emotions lingers in the air, creating an atmosphere thick with discomfort and uncertainty.

Sofia looks between you and Rafe, sensing the tension but not fully understanding the depth of your past connection. She decides to change the subject, suggesting that you all grab drinks and join the group by the bonfire. The invitation hangs in the air, leaving you with a choice to make – whether to navigate the night alongside Rafe and Sofia or find a way to retreat from the situation.

Despite the internal turmoil, you manage a strained smile, agreeing to join the larger group. The trio makes their way toward the makeshift bar, where you can't help but feel Rafe's eyes on you. The silence between you is deafening, each step echoing with the weight of unspoken history.

As you reach the bar, Sofia engages in casual banter with the bartender, leaving you and Rafe standing side by side. The awkwardness is palpable, a silent conversation unfolding between stolen glances and lingering tension. The air becomes charged with the ghosts of memories – the shared laughter, the whispered confessions, and the painful parting words.

Suddenly, a voice cuts through the discomfort, a familiar one calling out to Sofia. She excuses herself, leaving you and Rafe alone for the first time since your worlds shattered. The seconds stretch into an eternity as you both avoid direct eye contact.

Finally, Rafe breaks the silence. His voice is low, tinged with a hint of regret. "It's been awhile."

Rafe's comment about the passage of time lingers in the air, a subtle acknowledgment of the distance that has grown between you. You keep your gaze fixed on the ground, finding it too painful to meet his eyes. The weight of unspoken words hangs heavy between you.

"Yeah," you murmur, your voice barely audible over the surrounding noise. "It has been a while."

A heavy pause follows, filled with the unspoken truth of your separation. The mention of time only serves to underscore the absence of communication, the unanswered questions, and the silence that has defined these months of solitude.

"You never called," you say, your words tinged with a mixture of hurt and frustration. The memories of that night resurface, the promises unfulfilled, and the subsequent silence that followed. The pain of that unanswered call echoes in your voice, a testament to the unresolved emotions that have lingered for far too long.

Rafe's jaw tightens as he absorbs your words. The unspoken tension in the air seems to thicken, heavy with the weight of unaddressed issues. The crowd around you continues to buzz with life, oblivious to the charged atmosphere between you and Rafe. It's a moment suspended in time, caught between the past and the present, with the possibility of either reconciliation or further divergence.

Rafe's silence lingers for a moment, and just as the tension becomes almost unbearable, Sofia reappears at his side, seemingly oblivious to the underlying dynamics. She takes hold of Rafe's arm and playfully insists he joins her in the revelry. He glances back at you, his expression a mix of regret and something else you can't quite decipher.

"See you around, Y/n," Rafe says in a voice that carries a tinge of sadness before he's gently pulled away into the crowd by Sofia. The moment hangs in the air as he disappears, leaving you with a whirlwind of emotions. The reality of seeing Rafe after all these months hits you, and the weight of the encounter settles heavily on your shoulders. The bonfire blazes on, the crackling flames providing an ironic backdrop to the unspoken turmoil within.

The air is thick with a mix of emotions as you hastily navigate through the crowd, the tears in your eyes threatening to spill over. The vibrant atmosphere around you is now a blur as you search desperately for JJ, the only anchor in this sea of turmoil. Your heart pounds with a sense of urgency, the need to escape the situation becoming more palpable with each passing second.

Finally spotting JJ near the makeshift bar, you approach him with a sense of desperation. His eyes widen in concern as he takes in your tear-strained face. "Hey, what happened?" he asks, his voice a soothing anchor in the midst of chaos.

You grab his arm, almost pulling him away from the crowd. "We need to leave, JJ. Now," you implore, your voice choked with emotion. He doesn't ask questions, simply nodding and following your lead. The two of you slip away from the bonfire, leaving behind the flickering flames and the haunting specter of a past you weren't ready to face.

As you retreat from the beach, the distant sounds of laughter and music fade into the background. The cool night air offers a temporary reprieve from the overwhelming emotions that threatened to consume you. JJ walks silently beside you, giving you the space to process whatever had transpired.

As you and JJ continue to walk away from the beach, the words tumble out of your mouth in a shaky confession. "He's dating Sofia," you manage to say, the weight of the realization hitting you like a ton of bricks. Before you know it, the tears you've been holding back begin to stream down your face.

JJ's eyes soften with understanding, and without a word, he wraps his arms around you in a comforting embrace. The sobs escape from deep within you, each one carrying the pain of witnessing the person you once loved move on with someone else.

You let the waves of emotion crash over you, leaning into JJ's support. His presence is a balm, a reminder that you're not alone in this difficult moment. The two of you stand there, the night air filled with the sound of your quiet sobs and the distant echoes of the beach party you've left behind.

In that vulnerable moment, JJ remains a steady anchor, offering solace without the need for words. The weight of heartbreak is momentarily eased by the warmth of his embrace, and for now, you find comfort in the friendship that has become your lifeline.

taglist: @ellesalazar, @champomiel, @vadinaleme, @kys4-20, @gills-lounge, @allsmilesreally7, @sublimepenguinpeach-blog, @sp00ky-spr1te, @bibliophilewednesday, @haroldpotterson, @i-love-rafe, @ellesalazar, @calmoistorm, @abundantxadorations, @fals3-g0d, @gillybear17, @oiiviagrande, @hockeybabe87, @augustlikesdeath, @wpdailyminimeta, @palmwinemami, @loxleys-blog, @ikisscline, @flyestvenustrap, @ilovesteveharrngton, @ijustwanttoreadlols, @fastlovela, @wickedlovely121, @fals3-g0d, @givemylovetoall

#rafe cameron #drew starkey #rafe cameron x reader #obx #outer banks #rafe cameron fanfiction #rafe angst #rafe cameron imagine #rafe imagine #rafe cameron x pogue!reader #rafe fic #rafe cameron fic #jj maybank x reader #jj maybank #rafe cameron smut #rafe x reader

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kitkat238984 · 13 days

Text

I Bid This Bitch Goodbye

Summary: As Tony Khan's niece and junior producer, you were placed in charge of an auction event where fans can win a date with their favourite wrestlers.

But when you spy a face that has caused you nothing but trouble, you are determined to bring this bitch to the ground.

Notes: I meant to post this yesterday but oh well. Happy late birthday, Hook.

4339 words.

There was nothing particularly special about you. You were just an ordinary woman with an ordinary life, ordinary parents, and an ordinary education. You supposed the fact that your uncle-in-law happened to be a billionaire made you a little less ordinary than some others, but you never let it get to your head. Whilst in highschool you refused to let anyone know that were in close connections to such major businessmen in the sports industry. They would have flipped.

The friends you made were genuine and you were thankful for that… but unfortunately the enemies you made were also genuine. Right bitches they were.

You did try to make a living for yourself at first by working in a gas station, however, you weren’t really going anywhere with minimum wage, and the offer to work with your uncle in his new wrestling company was always on the table sooooo why not? A little career push never hurt anyone.

You were now a junior producer, learning the backstage roles that made up the AEW family that you were so warmly welcomed into with open arms. Everyone seemed to like you there and you gained many friends in your first few months, Hook being one of the wrestlers you’d grown especially close with, originally getting along because of your similar ages, and now you acted as if you’d been friends since childhood.

Of course, like any good childhood friend, he loved to mess with you and tease you, for example whenever you’re tasked to call him to the ring he thinks it’s a funny idea to go wandering around backstage, forcing you to go on a wild goose chase trying to find him.

—

“I need to start keeping an air tag on you”.

“Or maybe you should start being good at your job?”

“I’d actually be able to do my job if you weren’t constantly playing hide and go seek”.

—

Such a child…

Or how about the few times he snatched the clipboard straight out of your hands and held it above his head where you couldn’t reach?

—

“Just give it back. I need to get back to work”.

“No one’s stopping you from working”.

“There very clearly is someone stopping me”.

—

What a dick…

But! Today, he would regret all those times where he’d taken advantage of your job and made you look like a fool. He would be at your complete mercy and like hell would you take any pity on him; you were going to have your own back on this guy and he was going to suffer and you were going to enjoy watching it. Just like any good wrestling match.

You walked through the hall with a proud smile glued to your face, looking forward to seeing the faces of over-adoring wrestling fans, full of hope that they can outbid everyone else for a date with some of the most favourite wrestlers AEW had to offer.

As the organiser, you were one of the first people to arrive, only a couple of other producers and stagehands present who were setting up chairs - which were most likely to be discarded once they were in such close proximity to the wrestlers.

Oh, revenge was sweet indeed. You made this happen, Y/N. You’re an absolute genius.

When you proposed the idea of a charity fundraiser to your good ol’ uncle Tony about auctioning off dates with the wrestlers - not only to boost good publicity, but to give something to young children who had dreams of wrestling professionally - he immediately fell in love with the idea and told you to start making plans and secure some good people for the event.

Those wrestlers needed to be put to good use anyway. You knew they were good for something.

“Hey, have we got enough chairs for everyone?” you asked one of your colleagues who was setting up the seating.

“Uhh I think so. If not, only a few people will have to stand”.

You hum in response and start setting up the microphone and speakers before your sound guy arrives to take over. You’d hoped he would arrive soon because you had no fucking clue what you were doing. You were just tired of walking around watching everyone else do stuff.

Whilst playing with the buttons of the soundboard, a loud, ear-piercing boom echoed through the hall, accompanied by a few pained cries you’d caused people.

Oh, the cringe.

You practically threw the microphone down and stepped away from the area you were working on.

Best to leave it to the professionals.

“Good idea. Deafen us so we can’t hear the screaming superfans later”.

You turned to the sound of Hook’s voice to see him at the very end of the hall having just walked through the door. Just your luck for him to walk in as you embarrass yourself. But your luck was about to get better.

“Thank you”, you replied genuinely, watching his figure moving in your direction. “You’ll need it when they’re screaming in your ears all night. Probably in more ways than one knowing your record”.

He laughed softly and awkwardly rubbed the back of his neck as he stood only a few feet away from you.

“Hah you got me there, huh? A manwhore? Is that what you women call ‘em?”

You shot him a warm, patronising smile. “Only behind your back”. You quickly changed your mind. “Oh who am I kidding? I call you that to your face”.

You brushed past him, abandoning your post at the soundboard to help finish setting up the chairs, Hook closely following behind like a loyal puppy with his owner.

“Nah I wouldn’t do that. Not with a fan, at least”.

“Why’s that, fuckboy?” You joked.

“Very funny”, he responded, rolling his eyes. “I’d feel like I'm taking advantage of their love and adoration for me or something like that. Not that I’d blame them of course”.

You immediately stopped what you were doing and sent him a raised eyebrow. Like you’d believe that story. In the time you had known him, Hook had numerous women hanging off his arm (and that was only from what you had seen on social nights out with work), and sometimes those numerous women would be on one occasion. You were grateful you didn’t share the same hotel with him. Those were sounds you most definitely did not want to hear.

He seemed to have noticed the scepticism written on your face and spoke before you had a chance to reply. “You don’t believe me?”, he asked in subtle disbelief. “I can be a gentleman, you know?”

“You? A gentleman? I bet you’ve never even dated a girl before. I’ve only ever seen you walk out of bars with these ‘female friends’ of yours”. Despite ultimately joking, your teasing did have some truth behind it. For the four years you’d known him, you had never known this man to go out on a single actual date like to a restaurant or the movies or something cheesy like that.

It didn’t bother you, of course. Or at least that’s what you kept on telling yourself. You had no reason to be jealous; you didn’t even like him in that way nor had you ever thought about him romantically. That was partially true until this moment.

Sure you appreciated him, just the same as you appreciated all your hot friends. You work in the wrestling industry full of strong, sweaty, fit guys and girls. What did you expect?

Fine! You admitted Hook was easy on the eyes. So what? It’s not like you’d ever wondered what those perfectly sculptured muscles he so proudly displays in the ring yet modestly covers underneath his hoodie felt like. And it never once crossed your mind what was so addictive about running your hands through his tousled hair as you’d seen him among all the women do repeatedly.

Nope. None of that. Not. At. All…

…

It couldn’t be that soft, right?

Stop those intrusive thoughts, Y/N! It would never happen anyway.

“You’ll see one day”, he defended, snapping you out of your thoughts. “I’m just trying to have fun whilst I’m still young. I’m not rushing life like you seem to be doing”.

You sensed that you may have struck a nerve with the harsh tones in his voice as he looked at you expectedly, although you quickly felt awkward, a little ashamed of yourself for criticising his early life choices and perhaps taking your jokes a little too far.

A big apology would have to wait, though, as there was so much shit to be done before the event started and it would have been unfair if you weren’t pulling your weight enough. After all, this was your chance to show your uncle that you had what it takes to progress in the company.

Temporarily moving the problems with Hook to the back of your mind, you opened your mouth to speak a quick ‘sorry’ with the intention of making it up to him later like buying him a drink or something. However, another voice from only a few feet away echoed through the spacious hall.

“Hey, who’s been messing with this setup?”

Your sound guy must have come in without you noticing because you whipped your head around to see his face scrunched up with such confusion and frustration. You winced and turned away, pretending you didn’t know anything. Perhaps there was time for one long, drawn out apology.

Never had you been more relieved to be made fun of, hearing the sound of a snicker from a certain hooded figure standing before you to which you smiled lightheartedly in response. You should have known he wouldn’t stay mad at you for long.

What seemed like what was meant to be the end of the conversation clearly wasn’t because Hook still insisted on standing opposite you, staring and twitching his nose as if something was bothering him.

“What do you want?” You asked, not wasting any time and getting back to setting up chairs.

“What makes you think I want something?”

“Oh I’m sorry. Don’t you?” Sarcasm was basically your second language.

Hook was silent for a few seconds, allowing yourself to secretly smirk whilst your back was turned away from him. Just wait for it.

“Okay yeah I do want something”. Bingo. You were right as always. “I need you to bid for me”.

You scoffed into a breathy laugh. He couldn’t be serious, right? That’s like straight up asking you on a date without actually saying it and with a lot more complications than there needed to be. He continued.

“I’d give you the money back, I swear. I just really really don’t want to date a fan who’s desperate enough to be here to win a date with me. It’ll be chaos”.

As much as you questioned the cruel wording, you understood where his point was coming from. The entry fee in itself was five-hundred dollars and these people would have had to have been glued to their screen, waiting for the tickets to go on sale. On top of that, they wouldn’t even guarantee a date because they’d still have to bid a ridiculous amount of money in the auction.

You’d love to help him but you already had your sweet sweet revenge all planned out.

“Ooo it’s sooooo nice that you’re willing to give all that money to charity, and I’d hate seeing you at the mercy of some overbearing girl - or guy for that matter - buuut no. I’m not going to bid for you. It’d be wrong of me since, if you haven’t noticed, I’m running the whole thing”.

Hook’s silence spoke volume as he now knew exactly how you felt about him being in this auction.

“Bitch…” he muttered, turning to the side.

Gasp!

“What was that?” you asked sternly, finally facing him, not having stopped setting up the chairs until now.

“I said I… need to talk to Mitch”. He pointed to one of the guys on the other side of the room and pretended to approach him.

You sighed before calling out whilst he was still within a few feet away, “His name is Thomas”.

“Then I need to talk to Thomas, bitch”.

“Oh just fuck off”. The conversation ended with you indignantly laughing at his teenager-y antics.

—

Every single chair that you among others had placed had someone sat in it - well, they were all allocated, at least. One crazed fan that caught your eye was standing, of course, violently shaking the person next to her who you really hoped was her friend and not some stranger she was using as a human cocktail shaker.

It was show time. Honestly, you had no other job than to make sure everything was in check, ensuring that the auction went as you had envisioned. No introduction was needed as Tony Shiavone (who was way too happy to be the announcer for a change) went straight to it, announcing the first wrestler up for grabs, and you were quite content standing off to the side where you could watch the whole show as well as watching the crowd.

“Coming in from St. Marks Place, he’s cold-hearted, he’s definitely handsome, and the girls go crazy for him”.

Ha ha! Although it was the first auction, this was definitely the main event in your opinion. The one you had been looking forward to the most.

“Weighing in at 202 pounds, he currently holds the championship for the best single life. He’s Hoooooooooook!”

If the pool of merchandise wasn’t enough to figure out exactly how big of fans these people were, the screaming made it all too obvious. You hardly heard his song playing due to a mix of the yelling and the (hopefully temporary) deafness it caused you.

Seeing Hook walk on stage as just himself without the aloof persona he puts on was strange to say the least. It felt as though all these people got to experience a side to him that only you had the pleasure of seeing, which you knew was absolutely ludicrous because you weren’t the only person in his life. Perhaps it was the fact that these ‘people’ were the women who were about to pay a ridiculous amount of money at a chance for his heart.

Was this what jealousy felt like?

No, of course not. You had no reason to be jealous. You were about to relish in the suffering he was about to endure by one of these fans.

But what if the date… went well? What if he actually started a relationship with that woman? What would that mean for the two of you?

You desperately tried to shake your head out of those thoughts. He said he wouldn’t romantically involve himself with a fan anyway.

…but what if-? No! Shut up, Y/N!

Hook’s eyes immediately met yours, eyebrows raising as if to say ‘wish me luck’, to which you smirked in a reply, reminding yourself that this whole event was meant to be enjoyable for you.

“And we’ll start the bidding at three-hundred dollars. Oh straight in with the three-hundred”.

The bids came in so fast that you could hardly comprehend how many bidding paddles were flying up in the air until they began to slow down as the price continued to rise to those outrageous prices you were waiting to hear.

“Two-thousand dollars to the woman in the front here. Is there a twenty-one-hundred here?”

The higher the bids came in, the fewer women that were left standing, eventually cutting it down to just two, and then to one, and boy were they desperate.

“That’s five-thousand dollars to the woman at the front going once”.

Pause. You peered at the lucky lady who had won the date with Hook and what came into your view could have made your body implode from how badly your blood was boiling.

“Going twice”.

Pause. It couldn’t be her, could it? But that long golden blonde hair and sharp facial features were completely undeniable.

“Aaand-”

“Five-thousand one-hundred!” Your voice spoke out before you even had time to think, your glare not having left the woman who stood on the front row. Her disgusting victorious smile returned her natural hideous jealous scowl you’d known for years which whipped in your direction as probably many other heads, including Hook’s, did - not that you were paying any attention to anyone else now that the woman who had been harassing you for almost two years was here in front of you.

You were lucky you hadn’t spoken to the audience yet because you feared what kind of backlash you and the company would have received if anyone knew you - an organiser - started bidding in their own event.

“Two-hundred!” Her voice fought back to which you quickly retaliated with a hundred dollars more. Like hell was this bitch going to get what she wanted.

You knew Petra from highschool. She was one of those who thought she and her friends were oh so much better than you because of how much makeup they wore and how trendy their new Prada outfit was. She even bragged about her grades from time to time. After all, she did a lot of grinding on hard work to achieve those.

“Six thousand!”

Where the hell was she getting this money from?

You presumed she was rich all these years, but not ‘I’m gonna buy myself a famous boyfriend’ rich.

“Seven!” You on the other hand had no reason to worry about money. One huge benefit of working in your uncle’s business was the generous pay. Uncle Tony really did not hold out when it came to paying his staff.

You could see Hook’s perplexed look from beneath his hoodie directed at you, most likely wondering why you had such the change of heart, but you couldn’t let your focus drift away from the burden sitting on the front row. She must pay.

After you graduated and All Elite Wrestling had taken off, word had gotten out that you were Tony Khan’s niece, so when you mistakenly decided to post on Instagram about your new job there, the number of private messages you had received from people you had hardly spoken to in the past came flooding in, asking if you could get them tickets, or arrange a meet and greet with their favourites.

You’d decided to ignore all of them, however, there was one who was painfully persistent that you eventually had to tell them to shut the fuck up because it was never gonna happen. That person was, of course, Petra. Every week or so it was all ‘Can you set me up with Hook?’, ‘Oh my god isn’t Hook just the hottest?’, and ‘Can’t you do this for me after all you put me through in high school?’

Who the hell did she think she was? A princess? Not everything isn’t her fault.

You didn’t fail to notice the slight panic in her widened eyes after you raised the price by another thousand dollars.

Where’s daddy’s allowance now, bitch?

She hesitantly gestured to Shiavone to up the bid another hundred, however, now you knew she was running short of money, you felt you could wrap this up pretty swiftly.

“Eight-thousand dollars”, you said with a smirk. You were definitely going over your limit and you’d probably have to budget your shopping for a couple of months, but boy would it be worth it in the end to see that smug face wiped clean off.

“Nine-thousand dollars!” How many sugar daddies does this girl have? She probably knows she can leave and suck someone’s dick for another 1k.

No matter how she got the money, you knew you had more.

“Ten–thousand dollars!” The murmurs and Petra’s silence spoke all. You saw her visibly gulp and glance around the floor in disbelief. She wasn’t going to find another two thousand dollars on the floor so you really did not know what she could have been looking around for. She lost her pride a long time ago and she sure as hell wasn’t going to find it here.

“And the date with Hook goes to uhh… the lady over there for ten-thousand dollars!”

You sent Tony a small, thankful smile for not telling everyone who you were, and you were quite surprised that Petra hadn’t said anything appalling yet given she too knew that you had to have had a part in this event. She’d even begged you for weeks in advance if you could rig the event for her. In hindsight, you really shouldn’t have been at all shocked to see her here.

One of the backstage crew gestured for you to follow them to which you obliged, leaving the noise of disappointed groans behind you. One glance at Hook before you disappeared behind the curtain told you that this situation was just as awkward for him as it was now for you.

Your mind scoured for a suitable justification as to why you might have spoken up when you did.

You could say it was for charity? Those unfortunate kids were about to be bathed in riches and opportunities with the amount of money being thrown at them.

Not having any faith in your poor, disingenuous excuse, and seeing Hook making his way towards you, you decided that perhaps it would be better if you simply told him the truth. It was a valid reason after all. You wanted Hook to suffer for all the teasing he had done to you in the past but you didn’t want to torture him to death.

“Is that why you decided to work here?”

You stared at him with a puzzled look and he continued.

“Because you’re a secret superfan?”

Rolling your eyes, you scoffed and whilst waiting for an actual response to come to your mind, another half laugh, half scoff filled the silence, making his claim seem like the truth. You had not joined the AEW team because you were a Hook superfan (because you weren’t), but over the years of working alongside him in the background, you had naturally become one of his biggest fans.

“Yeah, you wish”. You regretted the poor excuse for a comeback as soon as it left your lips.

“Sooo are you gonna tell me why you just bid for me or are you gonna stand there all awkward?” He asked after a long hesitation.

Yep. The truth is better than an obvious lie.

“I knew the other woman from high school and trust me when I tell you that I was doing you a favour. She’s a slut. A tart. A whore if you will. I swear in God’s name if I ever see her again I will-”

“Alright alright I get it. You can tell me more on our date”.

You were glad Tyler decided to interrupt you there as you hadn’t even realised your hands clawing at thin air as if choking the very woman you hadn’t been able to get out of your life since you started working here. She had caused nothing but distractions and…

Wait, what?

“Date?”

Hook chuckled at your doe eyes. “You won fair and square, right?”

“Well yeah but I didn’t realise that– I didn’t think– I thought you wouldn’t– okay, a date sounds great”.

“Are you sure? I didn’t think you’d want to date a ‘fuckboy’ like me”.

Ah shit. Yeah you forgot about that. Well you supposed now would be a better time than any for an apology.

“Look I really am sorry for that. I was–”

“It doesn’t matter. You weren’t completely wrong. But I won’t be like that with you. How about tonight?”

You sent a warm smile of relief. Perhaps you had just been in denial all this time because you were suddenly super excited for this date with this good-looking, hilarious, kind friend of yours.

“Sounds perfect. It’ll probably be late, though. I have to help clean up”.

“I’ll wait, don’t worry”.

He edged past you and left you with your heart feeling like it was about to burst out of your chest and with butterflies hitting every inch of your stomach lining. The shaky breath you let out was quickly sucked back in when two hands gripped your hips and pulled your body close to theirs.

“I like it when you're nervous around me. Cocky didn’t suit you”, Hook muttered in your ear. Every part of you tingled now and you felt you could hardly move.

That would’ve been awkward if it wasn’t Hook.

You managed to turn your body, watching him make his way to the back door, looking like he was walking down a fashion runway or something.

Before he could reach for the handle, you called out to him, not letting him get away with the comment you had just realised he made.

“You’re still going to pay me back, though, right?”

He turned with a smirk and without saying anything, stuck both his middle fingers up at you before leaving the building.

Smug bastard…

You spent the remainder of the day with a gigantic grin plastered upon your face. You hadn’t dared show yourself on stage as the organiser after your little showdown with Petra, and you had hoped that all of those people out there would never figure out who you were either.

Perhaps she would leave you alone now after that whole ordeal, knowing that she lost and would finally be able to accept that she will never be able to get to Hook through you. You had to give her some credit, however, because without her, some other girl would have won and you would never have been given this date opportunity.

Instead, you would probably be eating ice cream in bed in pure jealousy rather than savouring the humiliation you had originally wished upon your date.

Your date… Ah! Exciting! This ten grand had better be worth it.

THE END.

Bonus: A few private messages! (I had no idea what I was doing)

Message #1

Message #2

Message #3 (Blurry schmurry. It's fine)

End notes: I would like to apologise for being naive. I thought it was cool that Chris and Hook were teaming, especially since I saw Chris Jericho's band in Feb (which was great btw) and I got overexcited at their collaboration. I scold myself everyday since he pushed Taz and took the belt.

#hook aew #hook x reader #aew #aew fanfiction #hook x you #hook x y/n #hook fanfiction #hook imagine #all elite wrestling #reader insert #fem reader

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raz-writes-the-thing · 7 months

Text

Snack Foods (Good Omens)

Aziraphale x Crowley x GN!Reader / requests are: open and encouraged

Summary: You're originally from the US and are feeling homesick. Your partners somehow just always know what to do to make you feel better.

Good Omens tag list: @coffee-and-red-lipstick @quickslvxrr @clarina04 @motionlessindoubt (send an ask to be added to a tag list!)

___ ___ ___ ___ ___

Moving to the UK had not been something you’d seen in your future when you were young. It was one of those things that just sort of happened. One week you were working minimum wage and working towards a degree, and the next week you were studying abroad. A month after that you were securing a job in your chosen field and you just… never looked back, really.

Your family was sad but supportive, thankfully. They understood how much your career meant to you and what these opportunities meant for you. They rang as often as they could and visited once or twice a year, which was great, but you still missed them, of course.

Your main source of solace when you really missed home was the Bookshop. You’d found it by accident one day after going to the coffee shop across the road. You’d met some friends there who had recommended the place. It was indeed now your favourite joint for a pick-me-up latte. There was nothing quite like a hazelnut coffee frappe, was there?

But you digress. You’d gone to the coffee place to meet your friends and spied the vintage-looking bookstore while you’d been there. After you’d finished with your friends you’d popped over to see what they had to offer.

Being so far from home had been particular torture that day and you’d been hoping to pick something up to distract you from your misery and transport you elsewhere. At least for a little while. Browsing rows of books, parchments, scrolls and everything else under the sun was where you’d first met Aziraphale.

A stout, comforting man (or you’d thought he was a man, anyway- at first) who had seemed to be trying to herd you out of the store before you bought something, which you had thought very odd for someone paying rent in the middle of London for a multiple storied building. But that was neither here nor there.

It had been an accident, really. You hadn’t meant to, but as soon as Mr. Fell had mentioned your accent and asked where you were from in an effort to divert your attention to his precious books, you had burst into tears. The poor man had looked so startled as you chastised yourself internally and wiped away the tears refusing to stop leaking from your eyes.

“I’m sorry,” you said, absolutely horrified.

“Oh, dear,” was his response. “It’s quite alright- though, I must ask- why are you crying?”

And so your friendship had begun. With a dash of tears and a sprinkle of awkwardness. After that, you’d popped in to the Bookshop whenever you were lonely or missing home to catch up with Mr. Fell. He’d set you up with a recommendation, a comfy chair and a cup of hot chocolate and leave you for hours to engross yourself in other universes.

You’d met Crowley shortly after you started going to the store regularly. It didn’t take very long for the two of you to become thick as thieves. You had a similar sense of humour and both of you found more joy than you should have in the misfortune of others. Not anything serious, of course but neither of you were able to not giggle when you saw the ass end of someone’s shopping bag just fall right out.

Anyway, all this was to say was that the two of them had fast become your best friends, confidants and then, one day after that, your partners. And as partners, they were very finely attuned to when you were not having a great day. Today was one of those days.

Crowley had ducked out for a bit before you’d gotten to the shop, and Aziraphale was pulling out all the stops to help you feel better. A new book, hot chocolate, a funny dance, even. Nothing was working. Well, that wasn’t strictly true. The dance and the following cuddles helped, but not by a whole lot.

Your Angel was doing his absolute best for you, and you were currently curled up in his lap with his hand stroking through your hair. You were sniffling sadly. You couldn’t even call back home with the time zone differences.

“Don’t look at those, my dear. You know they will only suffice to sadden you further.”

You were flicking through old photos, and as soon as the words left his mouth you turned the phone off with one more longing look. He was right, as usual.

“There, see? Better already. Crowley will be back soon, I’m sure. Perhaps you and he can play that game that you both enjoy so much?”

“Maybe,” you replied noncommittally.

The game in question involved doing your best to come up with more and more ridiculous ways to spend eternity. It was quite an amusing game. Particularly when drunk.

As if summoned by his name, Crowley wandered his way into the shop. He was toting a plastic bag which- judging by the bright colours within- meant it contained some sort of food. The Demon picked your legs up and sat down on the arm of the recliner, re-placing your legs back on his thighs when he was settled. He gave them a soft, comforting pat.

“Right. Can’t have you being sad, can we, Pet?” He supplied as a greeting. You blinked at him, nuzzling your head further into Aziraphale’s hand in your hair.

“S’pose not,” you replied suspiciously.

“It’s, erm, not much,” Crowley said, peeking into the bag before handing it over to you, averting eye contact awkwardly. “Might help, though.”

Your brows drew down in confusion and you moved the handle out of the way to view what was inside.

“Oh.”

Crowley repeated the statement, deflating somewhat.

“I- this is- Crowley.”

Aziraphale was beaming at you, scratching at your scalp. The motion gave you the shivers which in turn made Aziraphale chuckle.

“This is so nice? I can’t- oh my God- Cheetos!”

“Let’s not bring her into it, shall we? I don’t believe she had anything to do with it, eh?”

You shot the Demon an apologetic look and started ripping items out of the bag. Mike n Ikes, Flamin’ Hot Cheetos, Reese's cups, and- was that a root beer? A real, precious root beer? Was this Heaven?

This was possibly one of the kindest things someone had done for you since moving. ‘Demon,’ your ass.

“This is perfect, thank you so much,” you say tearfully while ripping open the bag of Cheetos and shoving one in your mouth. “Where did you get these from?”

Crowley squeezed your foot comfortingly. You wiggled your socked toes in his hand.

“Nipped over to the store in Edinburgh. Our Angel here heard they had specialty foods.”

You pecked Aziraphale on the cheek, giving him an absolutely beaming smile which he reciprocated happily.

“Oh, it’s no problem, really. I’m happy to do anything for either of you. More than happy.”

You picked up a Cheeto, offering it to the Angel who looked at its colour sceptically. You can tell he’s about to respectfully pass on the snack before he sees the expression on your face and he gives in, opening his mouth for you to feed it to him. He looks horrified as the taste sits on his tongue.

“Oh,” he says, chewing faster to get it out of his mouth. “That’s just… that's lovely, dearest. Thank you.” You offer him another. “No thank you, one was quite enough. More for you, after all.”

Crowley snickers and rejects the snack you offer him. He wasn’t big on food in general, but it would be rude not to at least offer. Crowley was more of a drinks man, anyway.

Once you’d had your fill you gave each of them a big kiss on the forehead, thanking them profusely for the effort. It really was one of the sweetest things anyone had ever done for you.

And as it turned out- it actually worked. It didn’t ease the ache of missing your family, but it did alleviate a little of that homesickness. You made Crowley promise to take you to the store sometime (and regularly after that) and while you certainly didn’t see your family often enough, you realised that you’d created a new family here instead- in addition to the one back home, that was.

As thanks, you promised to never make Aziraphale chow down on American snack food ever again. He was very much grateful. To thank Crowley, you washed the Bentley for him in skimpy clothes. It was safe to say he was a fan.

You may miss your birth home, but you had a lot going on for you here too, and wasn’t that just as important in the end? You thought so.

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loweya-blog · 17 days

Text

Cinderella (Obey Me Edition)

(Part 2, )

Once upon a time....

You were broke. Your job barely paid minimum wage and most of your cash went to paying the rent. Things like buying yourself new clothes that actually looked good on you or any sort of hobby items were out of your reach, unless you wanted to skip breakfast for the next few weeks.

Money had always been a difficulty for you but especially hurt when your friends went out to a fancy restaurant or some event where you couldn't attend due to your minimal paycheck. Perhaps you told yourself it was fine. Perhaps you hated it. But you had to move forwards, looking towards an uncertain future. Making do with what you could get at every turn.

Yet months of such conditions can wear a person down. Most of your time was taken up by work, creating an isolating atmosphere. The loneliness within your heart grew with every passing day as the world around you began looking duller and duller with each passing day. All you wanted was one nice night out with a few friends...

One day, a letter arrived.

It was right at your doorstep despite the fact you had a perfectly functional mailbox. A black envelope with gold trimmings and a dark red seal laid right at your door. When you took it inside and opened it, you found a beautifully handwritten invitation by some guy named Diavolo.

"Dear Recipient,

Congratulations! You have been selected to attend the Royal Seven Night Masquerade held by Prince Diavolo this year. This event shall be inviting two humans and two angels to help encourage relations.

Please sign the letter below to confirm your attendance to this event.

Yours sincerely,

Diavolo."

You blinked and stared at the letter for a few minutes. Was this a prank? You'd never heard of any prince Diavolo before. Still... the idea of a masquerade party sounded nice, even if it was just a prank in the end. Without thinking, you signed your name on the letter.

For the rest of the day you went about your business. The next night, you heard a knocking at your door. It was 7pm and nobody was supposed to be visiting. The idea that it could be your landlord made you internally groan as you went to open the door.

It wasn't the landlord.

A man with short dark green hair and a long fringe on his left that reached his nose. He wore a black tailcoat with gloves and had a prim and proper air about him.

"Are you MC?"

You silently nodded, still confused by this stranger and a bit wary at this un-welcomed visitor.

"Excellent. I'll be escorting you to this evening's masquerade."

Masquerade? What was he-

Then it hit you. The letter. You'd originally thought it was just a prank by some kid. The idea it may have been real hadn't even occurred to you. For a moment, you were stunned. The stranger was rather patient and seemingly amused by your confusion.

"I....I can't go to the masquerade," you explained when you finally found your voice.

"And why is that?"

He hadn't even changed his amused expression, just looking at you with a slight smile.

"I have nothing to wear," a part of you hated admitting it but in this moment you had no other excuse, "And I don't have a way to get there."

"Is that all?" Even after explaining all your reasons, the stranger seemed undeterred, "If that's the case, may I borrow a teapot if you have one?"

Your face must have twisted into a sour expression at the thought of giving up your one teapot, because the stranger was quick to reassure you.

"I promise, it will be returned to you unharmed."

Maybe it was the sincerity in his voice or your own curiosity. Either way, you ended up handing the precious teapot over. The stranger set it on the ground and took a few steps back. Right before your eyes, the teapot began to grow as swirls of colorful light encircled it.

When the light died down, a beautiful lavender blue carriage with a spout, handle, and golden wheels with little encrusted diamonds stood in place of your teapot. Your jaw dropped at the sight. Were you dreaming? What on earth was happening?

"The carriage will bring you to the steps of Diavolo's castle. As for your clothes...."

The same strange lights that had transformed your teapot now surrounded you. In a matter of seconds, your pjs had transformed into a gorgeous outfit of the finest silk and dripping with accessories you could only dream of. Even your hair and makeup were done to perfection in the most flattering of ways. Upon your face was a beautiful mask that would fit in any fantasy ball scene. And on your feet were a pair of glittering glass shoes that were surprisingly comfortable.

"I... how.... what?" you stammered.

"Now, there are a few rules you'll need to be mindful of," The stranger continued on with a smile, "First, don't tell anybody at the masquerade you are human, for your own sake. Second, leave before the witching hour. Once again I recommend that for your own sake. And to encourage you to follow the rules, this spell will only last until midnight. Once the clock strikes midnight, this spell will be undone and you'll be left in your pjs with only a teapot."

The stranger looked at you closely.

"Do you understand?"

Once he got a small nod from you, he simply bowed and left you alone to your own devices. Now it was all up to you. Would you go to the ball or would you stay home? Even if you disliked big events, it would be a once in a lifetime opportunity.

You carefully stepped into the magical teapot carriage and sat upon the pink cushioned seats within. The wheels of the carriage automatically began to turn and you were whisked off to the masquerade ball.

(Let me know if you guys want a part 2! :D)

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brsb4hls · 10 months

Text

Good Omens Spoilers:

I'm off work now and can sort my thoughts a bit.

So far I've seen only positive reactions and some posts complaining about criticism (which I have not seen in itself).

I very much feel there's something missing in the discussion.

I'm not gonna spoil people's fun and I certainly will enjoy fan stuff, but I cannot stop being pissed.

And it's not about wether Aziraphale reciprocates Crowley's feelings and if they are a canon romantic couple or not.

That's not the point. The point also isn't dolphins, it is that I feel that Gaiman perverted the original core of Good Omens.

He might have done it for angst and a dramatic build up and he might resolve it if there will be a third season (which cannot be guaranteed, so THAT ending could be what we have to live with), but whatever the reasons, he did it and it leaves a bad taste.

To me the point of Good Omens always was that heaven and hell as a strict and rigid concept were equally horrible.

The 'good place' so to say was always earth.

And being a human on earth was about being accepted with all one's quirks and also making one's own decisions.

If I remember correctly those points are mostly made by Adam (who actually is the main character of the book, it just has so many colourful supports you wouldn't notice).

So Aziraphale and Crowley fit way better on earth, because they're both too unique for a rigid corporate structure.

They already are their own little team even if Aziraphale sometimes displays a holier-than- thou attitude and needs Crowley to remind him what he would loose, if earth were gone.

So they both defy their respective bosses to keep the niche they carved.

The first season of the show manages to keep that core statement despite changing the characters up a bit.

And it ends like in the book, with Aziraphale and Crowley fighting the system and winning, being free.

And now it's all set back and actually made worse by Aziraphale willingly going back, as long as he's in charge.

In the show, Aziraphale was bullied by his superior and now takes his job. He thinks he can change the oppressive system from the inside instead of abolishing it altogether, or staying clear of it, because it is 'toxic'.

And yes, I did notice that tiny bit of blackmail from Metatron regarding Crowley, but after all that happened THAT should have given Aziraphale a clue about what he is getting into again.

He also doesn't seem to suddenly know his best friend of 6000 years anymore.

Crowley never had a problem with being a demon. He had a problem with how hell treated him.

And a problem with how heaven reacted to asking questions, which is a thing he loves, so why would he want to go back?

On earth, Crowley was completely ok with doing minor mischief and performing demonic magic.

And Aziraphale technically knows that, but he tries to drag Crowley along for purely selfish reasons. And on top he seems to think that as a demon Crowley is not good enough anymore.

And that completely goes against the point.

The point that has been made very clear before and made book and parts of the first season so great.

Gaiman let the system win.

(and pull Aziraphale back in after he successfully got out. That's like someone taking back their horrible job at the factory that pays minimum wages and pollutes the environment as long as they're forman).

#good omens 2 spoilers #good omens 2 #book omens #good omens critical #and I really miss people pointing that out #this is tumblr #why is everybody ok with that message just because they get 'angst' and 'feels'#that's not worth it for me #or maybe I missed smth #I would very much like to discuss #or find people who feel similar about that #long post

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theemporium · 3 months

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click 'here' to unlock the other boyfriends!

Steve Harrington didn’t show it easily, but he was a pretty lonely guy.

Not that anybody would’ve ever expected as much. He was Steve Harrington, one of the most—if not the most—popular boy of Hawkins High. He had parties almost every weekend, had people always following him, had people fawning over him.

There was no one in the world that seemed more admired than him.

But the smiles and laughs and large crowd of admirers didn’t mean much when he returned home to a large, empty house.

It felt quite stupid to complain about, and he was very aware of that. There were bigger problems in the world, in other people’s lives. It felt a bit privileged to whine about the fact his parents were never around and he grew up in a mansion that felt like a ghost town most of his life. It felt like such a miniscule objection in the grand scheme of things but it was so fucking lonely.

Even the nannies he had growing up were detached, barely even acknowledging him as a child. He was just a paycheque in their eyes. And even they stopped after his parents thought he was old enough to keep himself alive at the big age of twelve years old.

Steve couldn’t help it. He was a people’s person. He craved to have people around him. The loneliness was suffocating and he sometimes felt like he was scrambling to hold onto the people in his life—his friends, his girlfriends, his teammates. He felt like he was pushing and pushing and not really receiving much in return.

A lot of people assumed that meant Steve came off quite clingy but, truthfully, you just found it endearing.

“Back again, Harrington?”

“Couldn’t leave my favourite girl to bore to death.”

You snorted, the sound only making Steve’s grin widen as he rounded the counter and jumped up on a spot right next to where you were situated. You glanced over his attire, taking in the bright blue shorts that stretched across his thighs before your eyes snapped back up to him.

“Come to die with me then?” You questioned, eyeing the empty store (the one that had been empty since you started your shift) before looking back at the boy.

“Oh yeah,” he nodded his head. “Like Romeo and Julia.”

“Juliet,” you corrected.

His grin widened. “Book nerd.”

“Comes with the job,” you retorted as you halfheartedly waved at the store around you.

It was funny, really. Never in a million years would you have ever considered yourself and Steve Harrington to be friends in school. And yet, all it took was a summer full of minimum wage jobs and and sympathy on neither of you having a fucking clue what to do with your lives after school.

All it took was one broken car and an offer to carpool for the two weeks yours was in the garage for you and Steve to become friends.

Him working in Scoops Ahoy and yourself working in Willy’s Bookstore—you were quite a pair.

And without fail, whether he was working or not, Steve always showed up to entertain you at work. Whether it was during his own breaks or on his day off, you didn’t think a day had passed where you hadn’t seen the boy this summer.

“You don’t have to come here,” you said eventually as Steve began to thumb through a random book beside him. “It’s boring but I’ll survive a shift.”

“I know,” he answered with a shrug of his shoulders, his gaze focused on the words on the page. “But I like chilling here with you.”

You tried to bite back your grin. “Yeah?”

“Yeah,” he lifted his head, a light tint to his cheeks. “Plus, I was thinking…”

“Never a good sign,” you teased.

He rolled his eyes, but the nerves were still there as he tapped them against his thigh. “I was thinking we could do something after your shift ends.”

You raised your brows at the boy. It wasn’t unusual for you and Steve to do something after both your days were done. Though, more often that not, it resulted in the two of you grabbing something from the food court and eating it in his car, or him coming back to your apartment to crash on the couch.

You never went to his place. You never really questioned it. You had asked once, casually one night when you were sitting on the couch watching some movie he had brought with him, and he had just said his place wasn’t as ‘homey’ as yours. You didn’t push the topic after that, you quite enjoyed having him in your space.

“You got another movie for us?” You asked.

“No, I mean—” He paused, letting out a long breath before continuing. “I thought we could do something different.”

You raised your brows. “Like what?”

“I—” He faltered for a second. “I didn’t think that far ahead.”

You stared at him with an odd expression.

“God, right, fuck. I didn’t do this right,” he muttered, mostly to himself. He cleared his throat as he slid off the counter, turning to look at you as he tried again. “I want to go on a date with you.”

You blinked in surprise.

“That sounded demanding,” he winced a little. “I mean, will you go on a date with me?”

You opened your mouth to say something, but no words came out.

“We can do whatever you want!” Steve continued, seeming lost in his own rambles and slight fear that you’ll reject him. “I don’t mind, really! I just…I wanna hang out with you. I mean, I know we already hang out. But I wanna do more than hang out with you. I wanna be more than friends—if you want to. Shit, I didn’t even give you a chance to say—“

You didn’t give him a chance to continue before you grabbed his shirt, hands fisted in the material of the stupid sailor costume before you yanked him down to kiss him.

Steve stood frozen for one, two, three seconds before he finally reacted. His hands dropped to your waist, pulling you closer and tilting his head to the side as he deepened the kiss.

There was a voice in the back of your head reminding you that you were at work, that anyone could come and see you, that your manager could walk in and see you both. But you didn’t care. You really, really didn’t care.

“I want that date, Harrington,” you murmured against his lips when you finally pulled away, when you finally needed to breathe. “I don’t care whatever we do either, as long as it’s with you.”

His face brightened, in a smile so wide that you swore you had never seen him that happy before. “Yeah…yeah, brilliant. I’ll, uh, plan something and meet you after your shift, yeah?”

“You gonna keep the sailor suit on?”

He raised his brows. “You want me to?”

“The shorts can stay,” you decided, a cheeky smile on your lips. “The shorts can definitely stay.”

He snorted. “Noted, baby, noted.”

#steve harrington #stranger things #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington fic #steve harrington one shot #stranger things x reader #stranger things x you #stranger things x y/n #stranger things fic #stranger things one shot

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springseasonie · 10 months

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Auralism Pt. 2 | PJS (M)

Voice actor Jisung x fem reader

Part 1. Part 3.

Summary: just another night of your nightly routine except you've become a little more delusional than before.

Warnings: sexual content, auralism (voice kink), masturbation, guided masturbation, praising, degrading, parasocalism (it's bad for you)

Word count: 1,2k

A/N: I'm very glad all of you liked the first one so much. I had no idea people liked the thought of erotic voice actor Jisung as much as I did but I'm glad y'all all also see the vison lmao. Feed back is loved an appreciated 🩷🩷

"Hi baby."

"Jesus," you sighed breathlessly. Another night, you're laying in your bed on your back staring up at your ceiling. It's almost embarrassing how much you keep coming back to this specific audio. It's the first one you ever heard, but nothing will ever compare to it. "Stress relief" is what it's called, and it's exactly that. You only listen to it on your toughest days, and you're bound to have some tough days working a minimum wage job.

"For this audio, please calm your body down. Take a deep breath, okay? Close your eyes and feel the space around you."

You did just that, closing your eyes and sinking into your bed as you calmed your body down. At that moment you started to feel all the aches and pains from your day settle in.

"Try to forget about your day and just be present with me. I'm the only thing in your mind right now. I'm the only person you can hear. Focus on what I'm saying to you. You're gonna be a good girl and follow my directions like always aren't you?"

"Yeah, I'm gonna be a good girl," you mumbled quietly to yourself. You'd crawl in a hole and die if anyone had to bear witness to this exact moment. You're in a room by yourself responding to a man who's only making audio porn to pay his bills. But it's not your fault no one can live up to the expectations of his voice alone.

"Today, I just want you to relax. I want you to pull your clothes off for me. You can pause while you do so, I'll wait for you."

You paused it, taking everything off your body till you were on your bed completely bare. You quickly started it up, sighing when hearing his voice again.

"Now I need your undivided attention okay? Rile yourself for me. Run your hands all over your pretty body. Press your fingertips into your skin and feel yourself. Run your hands over your nipples. Pinch, squeeze them. Aren't they sensitive?"

That they were indeed. And so was your cunt. If there was a thing you needed to fuck more than right now it would be him despite not knowing what he looked like. You need that voice in your ear telling you that you touched him so well, that you made him feel good. It was going to drive you insane for the rest of your life probably. You pinched your nipples, hissing at the sting on the sensitive peaks. You did this every single time, listening to every word he said and it never got old.

"Move your hand to your mouth. Suck on those fingers for me. Yeah, just like that. You look so good, beautiful."

You put your fingers in your mouth, swirling your tongue over the digits coating them in your saliva. You were so turned on at the point you would probably burst.

"Take your fingers and put them between your legs. Rub your clit for me. Get it nice and wet. I bet that feels real good. Don't you wish it was me touching you? I bet you do."

You rubbed your clit slowly in a circular motion, deep breaths slowly quickening. Your legs spread wider as your other hand squeezed your breast, the ecstatic feeling spreading all over your body.

"Keep touching yourself for me. You're such a good girl you know that? Pretty, beautiful, good girl."

You kept going, soft moans now falling from your lips. All that was in your head was him, his voice. What else were you supposed to think about? Your brain had gone numb the moment you heard him say baby.

"Now I want you to finger yourself for me. I want you to stuff that pretty pussy with your fingers."

You did as he said, eyes rolling back at the stretch You've been aching to feel all day. It's been fucking with you all day, wanting to hear his voice even just for a second. You were addicted.

"Does my voice turn you on?" He chuckled softly, making your brain turn to mush like always. "Does my voice make your pretty pussy wet?"

"Yes, yes it does," you sighed as you fingered yourself. The sounds coming from your body were shameful. Panting and whimpering filled the room, your body getting hotter and hotter as your sheets stuck to your legs.

"Keep going. God, I wish I could see you right now. All cute and wet for me, legs spread wide. You're such a little slut for touching yourself to my voice, you know that? My little slut."

You nodded, a small smile tugging on your lips as his deep sultry voice landed on your ears. You wish you weren't so crazy and delusional but when he talks to you like that you turn to mush all over again. Your fingers grew in pace, palm of your hand also stimulating your swollen clit.

"You wanna cum pretty girl?"

"Yes, yes I do." You were whining, the sounds growing in pitch and volume the more you moved your hand. "F-fuck, oh my god.."

"You can cum. Cum as hard as you want, but don't you dare stop."

You kept going, fingering yourself harder and harder. The moment you curled your fingers inside of you, you came hard, vision turning blurry and mind going fuzzy. You were already so sensitive, but you were a good girl so you didn't stop. You wouldn't dare stop.

"I want you to cum for me again. I love it when you cum for me. I wish I could see it. I wish I could feel it. Feel that tight pussy around my cock squeezing me tight. I know you want that too. I know you want my big cock to stretch you good."

Your moans bounced off the walls, back arching off the bed as you kept thrusting your fingers. It was too much, but it felt so good. Too good. Your cunt was squeezing your fingers once again, wet squelches coming from between your legs.

"If I had you, I'd fuck you so good you wouldn't remember your name. You'd love that wouldn't you?"

"Yes, fuck yes.." You were gasping for air, eyebrows scrunched together right as you stared down at your hand, watching your fingers go in and out of you.

"But for now, I just need you to cum in your perfect, soft hands. Make a bigger mess for me. You can do it."

"J-Jisung, shit.." You came, and you said his name. You've never done that before. Maybe you're a little in too deep, but Jesus, there is no one that could make you see stars the way you did just now. There's no one who can make you shake by just talking the way you did just now.

"Do you feel better? Are you still stressed because if you are, I guess I didn't do my job. But when have I ever failed, hm? Now clean yourself up and get some rest for the next day, or the rest of your day. Bye beautiful."

The audio finished, leaving you heaving on top of your covers. Usually, you would just get up and clean up, but you felt different now. You moaned his name out loud like a crazy person. You were definitely in a little too deep. Maybe you needed to take a break from your nightly routine.

Just as you were about to close the app on your phone another notification popped up.

"surprise :)"

And just like that your night got a whole lot more interesting.

#nct #nct u #nct fanfic #nct smut #nct x reader #nct oneshot #nct scenarios #nct dream #nct dream fanfic #nct dream smut #nct jisung #park jisung #jisung imagines #jisung oneshot #jisung smut #jisung fic #jisung fanfic #jisung scenarios

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starsxblazing · 3 months

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Iridescence

I was listening to Iridescent by Linkin Park and all of the ideas for this AU were impossible to get out of my brain so this is what I pumped out within thirty minutes

Summary: Living in the slums of San Antonio, your train wreck of a life with your abusive boyfriend seems to be never ending. A new neighbor slowly pulls your attention towards him.

Warnings: descriptions of domestic violence, drugs, abuse, violence, description of blood and gore, death, personality disorders, depression, angst. So much angst.

Azriel x Reader

You sat in front of your full-length mirror propped on the floor, flinching when the front door to your trailer slammed shut, before examining the bruises covering your face. It had been a miracle that you had learned how to use makeup enough to cover up the evidence so that no one asked any questions. There were no longer any voiced concerns from anyone that you worked with or the only person that you had left in your life that you could consider a friend and it was a small relief.

Memories and thoughts turned over in your mind as you started the task of covering up the bruises adorning different parts of your face, searching to figure out where things went so wrong. Your relationship with James had been going on since you were sixteen and it had been tumultuous at the very least. He had always been on a downward spiral but you always kept the hope that he would be the person that you knew he had the potential to be.

His attitude had gotten even worse since the move. The small town that you both grew up in had a high crime rate that always made you afraid to do anything and there was a terrible problem with the lack of jobs. The latter was the biggest reason that you had moved to San Antonio once you had been accepted into one of the colleges here. You had been in the top five of your class, more than earning your bachelor’s degree in business. Despite your majors of finance and human resources, you struggled to find a good job in a good company.

Your two minimum wage jobs were barely enough to keep you afloat which resulted in the tiny, rundown trailer park that you now resided in. James refused to find work of his own and when he did, his employment never lasted long. It didn’t take a genius to know that he was purposely sabotaging his opportunities and making a bad name for himself but there wasn’t anything that you could do about it.

The fight that started as soon as you got off of work had lasted throughout the entire night all of the way up until he finally just left to do whatever it was that he did. You were exhausted and didn’t know how you were going to make it through your eight hours in the factory and then the retail job that you had immediately after.

Your car was just as bad as your home, nothing but a simple rust bucket that decided on its own some days to not start. Every wrong noise came from it during your commute to work and you couldn’t help but wonder just how long that it would last. The thought spiraled your depression further because you didn’t have the money to make any payments on even the cheapest of cars, unable to even afford to get any repairs that needed to be taken care of.

You forced the thoughts away while throwing on the simple t-shirt and a pair of jeans before slipping on your steel toed shoes and looking around your room, unable to linger on the many holes in the walls. The entirety of the small area constantly smelled of mildew, the leak in the roof from rain that followed the dense dry heat only making it worse by the day. What you could tell was once white carpet was now brown and littered with black spots that caused the putrid odor.

The bed, if you could even call it that, wasn’t in much better condition. The mattress, which was second hand, sat on the floor since you weren’t able to afford any form of a bedframe. You had gone without eating for almost a week simply by buying your also second hand couch that was barely usable. The small journal that was now on the floor from James’s violent outburst had been knocked from the tiny dresser and caught your eye just as you were about to leave.

As you flipped through it, your heart dropped at the list of bills and the ones that were due in just a few days. Your bank account had been drained yet again by your boyfriend and there was no way that you weren’t going to be past due. The thought brought tears to your eyes because it would only cost you even more money that you didn’t have. You cursed the horrible economy and the overpriced hell hole that you lived in.

Making your way into the small living room/kitchen combo area of your trailer, you stopped to look at the thermostat. A snort left you at the irony because it didn’t belong there. It wasn’t like it had worked since you had moved in five years ago. The common sight of a scurrying mouse from the corner of your eye pulled your attention to it just before it ran across your feet and through a hole at the bottom of the wall. A variety of roaches scattered across the walls from your presence but that was also nothing new.

Dirty dishes were piled in the sink, causing you to sigh because that had been another point of your argument from the night before. James didn’t work or contribute anything to the house. Not even cleaning. You were hardly ever there so it wasn’t like any of it was your mess to begin with. It was a never ending futile battle but it never failed to bug you at the end of the day in your exhaustion.

Your next task was searching for your phone and car keys, which had been thrown somewhere in the process. It had been hard at the time to know what he did with them since your vision had blurred at the time from where James had elbowed you in the nose. To the best of your knowledge, your keys were in the front yard somewhere but your phone was a different story. The broken window that overlooked the backyard told you enough. It was probably somewhere amidst the tall grass that was past due for a cut but your lack of a lawn mower made that impossible to do. It would die soon enough anyway since the cooler air of winter was slowly moving in.

Just as you suspected, your phone was in the damp backyard with the battery completely drained. There was also a new crack on the screen but you couldn’t be bothered to worry about it because it was too close to time for you to leave. Your keys took a bit longer to track down since there were no obvious signs of where they landed.

The sight of a moving truck at the front of the trailer next door pulled your attention away from your task, the new emotion of curiosity a welcome one. Your neighboring trailer was the nicest one in the park but it was far from being considered homey. It was a one bedroom just as all of them were and extremely overpriced for the condition that it was in. You had looked at it before moving into the one that you now lived in and it was in complete working condition, a far cry from being similar to your own.

Your gaze on the sight next door was enough to have you stumbling over the very item that you had forgotten about, nearly causing you to tumble to the ground right as someone was exiting the home. Heat rose to your cheeks when your eyes connected with the man’s across the small yards that you both had. You weren’t sure if it was because of the fact that he almost saw you fall or because he was the most beautiful man that you had ever seen.

Shaking your head to clear it, you snatched up your keys and hoped that you would make it to work without any problems.

@amara-moonlight @allygrace74 @sidthedollface2 @historygeekqueen @hnyclover @kalulakunundrum @historygeekqueen @bubybubsters @thisblogisaboutabook @mybestfriendmademe @caroline-books @justvibbinghere @wisdomofthebrain @nighttimemoonlover

#azriel x reader #azriel x you #azriel #azriel shadowsinger #azriel angst #azriel acotar

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jarviscockerssecrethusband · 1 month

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If most people were to be believed, nobody liked the poor fucks who peaked in high school. Unfortunately for Steve, he was one of that number.

Being rejected from college was embarrassing enough. Then there was losing his minimum wage job. Getting married too young. Rehab. Realising he was gay. Divorce. Rehab again. Only seeing the kids once a month. And of course finding out the morning before yet another job interview that there was more hair growing out his ass.

A too bitter coffee that tasted like laundry detergent didn’t help as he ran from the subway because his licence had been suspended. Neither did the bottom of the barrel cigarettes he’d had before walking into the building.

William Hargrove, head of a nation wide charity outreach programme for abused children. He needed some low level admin support and apparently Steve fit the bill perfectly. It was fine, Steve told himself. He’d just be another fat balding white guy who was only in it for the money. Steve knew his own generation well.

Billy was not like that. He was incredibly sweet and patient during the job interview, which apparently he always did himself, picked up on Steve’s dyslexia almost immediately and offered in office support and was unequivocally the most beautiful man Steve had ever seen.

Steve got hired. He started Monday. That would have been fantastic if not for the fact that Steve knew his only good suit had a tomato sauce stain on which refused to budge. Fuck his life.

Decades of porn had put Steve under the impression that crushes on a boss were fun, sexy affairs that led to coitus on the office table. Whoever came up with that fucking lie owed him a sincere handwritten apology. Crushes on a boss were not fun and were never reciprocated.

Billy was a very hands on boss. He’d go around to everyone’s desk, asking if they needed anything, organised staff basketball outings every week and was just genuinely the sweetest guy ever. Steve had read somewhere that Billy could have been a millionaire but refused to compromise on staff wages or any of his programmes. He tried not to get warm fuzzy feelings about that.

Shame smoking was not helping matters, especially not when Steve found out that a certain other person frequented his spot. He gave up smoking at work after that. Steve couldn’t come across as a complete disaster.

Miraculously, Steve was actually very good at his job. It was straightforward and repetitive and the special font on the computer meant that he could read it better. His co workers were all nice, well adjusted 20 somethings and they were surprisingly happy to involve a 58 year old in their shenanigans.

On the Billy front, Steve had finally managed to get out a full sentence without sounding like a teenage girl at a WHAM concert (the equivalent was One Direction now??????? Steve couldn’t keep up with teenagers) and generally Billy seemed to think he was competent. Not a particularly special employee but enough to talk about the game with over crappy office coffee.

Billy was also gay. Which was very cool and should not have given him as much completely unfounded hope as it would. It wasn’t the 80s anymore and they were very much not the only gays in the village. Practically every man who walked into his office started immediately drooling. Not that Steve could judge.

An official invitation to “basketball Fridays” was new. Steve had mostly waved it off in the past, because it would just be him against much younger men and his ego couldn’t handle that. Still, he decided to take it up. Just because Billy’s hair smelled like lavender.

It was just Billy when he got there. Basketball shorts were criminally good on his figure. Again, Steve couldn’t help but hope he’d suddenly be transported into a porn.

“Don’t mind a one on one game, just us old men?”

How could Steve pass that offer up? It was really too good to refuse.

One game turned into two into five and suddenly Steve was back to playing a game once a week. Sometimes it had practically the entire building, sometimes it was just the two of them. They’d exchanged numbers, just to discuss Steve’s love of Sixteen Candles. It was nice, having a friend who wasn’t Robin or Carol for once. Another guy. Another queer guy.

The next week Anthony told him to resign. He was kind of like a mini Jason Carver from back in high school, bar the religious trauma. Resign he’d said. For Billy’s sake. That had to be some sort of hr violation. Steve didn’t tell on him though. Billy cared too much about his employees for that.

Slowly, more and more people started saying it. Resign. For Billy. It felt like bordering on bullying. Some type of ageism. Still, Steve resolutely ignored it until it came from Gemma.

Gemma was Steve’s favourite. They had outrageously green hair, thrived off shitty horror movies and was the first person to not laugh at Steve for not knowing what Instagram was. They were a saint. But then they told him to resign too.

“Please Steve.” Their voice was as soft and gentle as ever, like waves cascading over the rocks. “You’ve got to quit. For Billy. Trust me.”

Bottom lip trembling but refusing to cry in front of anyone, Steve marched to Billy’s office and rapped sharply on the door. He stuck to the script, announced he was quitting “for Billy” and turned to walk out the door until Billy gently caught his hand.

“Steve”

Steve was going to miss hearing that voice every day.

“Do you even know why you’re resigning?”

This was even worse than the recurring nightmare of taking an exam naked.

“No?” He tried, voice sounding about as confident as a five year olds.

Billy cleared his throat awkwardly.

“Look I don’t know exactly what the team has been doing but I think why you’re resigning is because I can’t exactly ask you on a date as an employee?”

Ah. That was unexpected.

Thankfully Billy didn’t mind the stubborn tomato sauce stain when they got to the restaurant. Or Steve’s garlic breath when they kissed. And Steve found himself for the first time in a while, thinking that maybe being him wasn’t all that bad after all.

#billy hargrove #steve harrington #harringrove #harringrove ficlet #I love disaster Steve ok

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nevertheless-moving · 10 months

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But Peter Parker (no not that one, the other — yeah that guy) does actually have an OnlyAdmirer’s account though.

He doesn’t remember exactly when he started it — sometime after losing the job at the pizza place and before picking up the tutoring hours; he remembered he was short for one of Aunt May’s prescriptions that month, but isn’t sure anymore which one it was. Sometime during college.

Low ebb on crime that week, which meant he wasn’t making much from the Bugle, but he did have some extra time, enough to take a deep breathand set up the encyptions on his account (he should probably go this hard for all his spiderman stuff too, but eh, it had been fine so far).

He wears a mask (no not that one, though he did consider it because, you know, it would be freaking hilarious).

He pulls...a grand, whopping total of.... $100 a month. Wahoo.

Ok, maybe a little more on average; and sometimes its up to $200! It’s just worth the fees and the time, and after a while he has to admit it’s less stressful than any of his other gigs.

At first he’s paranoid about someone finding out, both in his personal life and his superheroics (he has, like, 10 self righteous rants prepared about the moral neutrality, nay the moral Good of sex work).

(He’s a little disappointed that it never comes up.} Eventually he doesn't think about it, especially not on patrol, not any more than he thinks about the taco shop, or the GrubHob gig, or any of the bazillion odd jobs that come with working class heroics. Eventually he doesn’t think not to mention it, and the set-up was perfect for him to — ok— sue him, he might have been trying to sound cool in front of an X-Man who was laughing at his jokes— He, uh. May have forgotten. How much X-Men gossip. It’s not like it would have been a big deal had the press event not happened two days later, and— why do other people always get a laugh when they repeat his jokes anyway!

Plus! He was on maybe two hours sleep when the tabloid asked him point blank and for a moment he was so wrapped in the euphoria of a non-Bugle rag interviewing him, and also not yelling at him for damages or anything serious, that he forgot he lived in a world where sex-work was stigmatized so— yeah. Good news! His secret identities are still fine, no-one’s even figured out which OnlyAccount is his. Bad news! Because his secret identity’s still intact, and noone’s figured out which twink is spiderpowered, he’s still only going to make $134 this month, which is barely more than minimum wage when you include prep time.

Other good news! Most fun he’s ever had explaining something from the internet to Jonah.

#peter parker #spiderman #spiderman fanfiction #nevertheless writing #Bad news he got kicked out of the Bugle headquarters #which means he’s either going to have to find time for another stream or go fishing in the Hudson for more lost wallets #JJJ: Bring Me Pictures of Spiderman! I don’t know what Website that Wallcrawler is ruining now but I want—#Betty: already recording #Peter (eyes glowing) (levitating slightly) : [deep inhale]#inspired by reading through brawltogether’s spiderman tag

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mins-fins · 9 months

Text

GENESIS (P.GW)

SUMMARY . . . even with everything hectic going on in his life, he will always be there for him.

PAIRING . . . park gunwook x male!reader

GENRE . . . fluff, angst

WARNINGS . . . mentions of sleep deprivation, and neglectful parenting

WORD COUNT . . . 1.7k

NOTES . . . this is how i cope with the fact that pretty much no one in my household cares about me or my well-being, or even respects me (the baby who can't speak loves me more than the sentient adults and children do) enough of that depressing stuff though because i love gunwook yay!

"seojun chew your food! stop spitting at haneul!"

"i— yuri! don't throw your food! i have to clean that later, you know!"

if you can't tell, y/n is currently at the end of the line right now. he groans and lets his head fall onto the counter, listening to the back and forth bickering of his three child siblings. it's 6:49 pm, and he is so so tired.

for the past four hours all he's simply been taking care of his brothers and sister, like he always does on the weekdays when he isn't working. he dislikes feeling tired; because there's still so much more to do even if they're already in the evening.

y/n can't remember the last time he earned a proper break, or was actually treated his age. his mom (who he absolutely despises at the moment and will probably despise forever), decided to have kids right when her son began high school, which means that he is now an eighteen year old high school graduate with two four year old boys and a three year old girl on his hands.

and y/n is as stressed as can be. it's not like before his mother was this amazing, flawless parent who did a good job at raising him, she wasn't, he had to learn every single basic life skill on his own because his mom was busy gambling away their money.

when he was ten she swore to him that he'd get better.

but she never really did.

and now she's out throwing all her money away at the casino, whilst he stays over at home making sure her kids are well fed, can sleep properly at night, and don't kill each other as they're trying to do now.

y/n knows it's not his job to do this, these aren't his kids, he can move out any time he pleases and leave his mom to actually have responsibility over her own children for once in her life, but he just doesn't have the heart to leave them.

he's practically raised these kids since the first day they came home from the hospital. he's the one who gave the twins their nicknames, the one who was present when all three of them walked for the first time, spoke their first words, began responding to him and what he'd say.

they're not his kids, he didn't choose to bring them into this world, but at the same time, he won't just leave them. he's been.. searching, trying to find a place whilst also trying to provide for his siblings at the same time, he barely makes minimum wage, he doesn't even know if he could rent a place.

as he stares at his young siblings, now cleaned up and simply watching cartoons while sitting on the couch. he sighs, simply wanting to collapse onto the floor and not get up for a long amount of time and just.. not exist anymore.

sometimes it gets so difficult, having to go to school five days a week, pick up his siblings from daycare then proceed to take care of them until their bedtime, make sure the house is clean, then watch as his mom strolls in at midnight, having wasted her money and usually wasted herself. he'd then work for a full 10 hours on saturday and sunday.

wow, his life is crazy is it not?

and he just turned eighteen like.. yesterday.

it pisses him off, yeah, but at the end of the day, he just deals with the circumstances of his life. he's gotten used to being the responsible one, being the one who takes care of the kids and is constantly sleep deprived.

y/n is about to fall asleep on the kitchen counter, the sound of the tv playing just melting into the air as he feels his eyes grow heavier and heavier by the second. his head is about to fall onto the counter when the doorbell rings, startling him.

y/n rubs his eyes, attempting to blink away the tiredness as he stands up and walks towards the door. he tells his siblings to continue watching tv and ignore it, when he opens the door, he smiles at who he sees.

"gunwook".

gunwook smiles, holding up a plastic bag. y/n tilts his head, raising an eyebrow. "what is in that exactly?" he inquires, and his boyfriend chuckles at him.

"candy" he responds simply. the three kids on the couch immediately perk up at the sound of the word "candy", toothy grins coming to their face.

"candy!?" haneul squeals, practically sprinting his way towards gunwook, he jumps up and down, seemingly energetic before even eating the sugary treats.

"if you want candy, sit down okay?" y/n places his hand on his head, ruffling his hair. haneul stares at his older brother, his boyfriend, then back at the couch where his own siblings are kicking their feet.

haneul shuffles his way back to the couch, and gunwook closes the door. y/n stares at him tiredly, but he smiles at the sight of him. "candy at seven pm? really?"

"what? your siblings deserve something sweet!"

"well, you didn't just witness them trying to kill each other with spaghetti, did you?"

gunwook shoves his partner's shoulder lightly, and y/n laughs. "okay, not too much candy, they have to sleep at night" he just earns a grin from gunwook, who nods.

"i got it y/n, you tell me all the time".

"you buy my siblings sweets all the time".

"because i love them" gunwook opens the bag as he says those words, and haneul gasps in delight. "just one piece, okay? your bedtime is soon".

seojun agrees, his voice muffled because of the treat he's chewing. haneul nods happily, and yuri gives a thumbs up, kicking her feet. gunwook gives the three a huge smile, enamored but their cuteness.

y/n stares at the scene unfolding before him, smiling fondly as he watches. gunwook isn't a kid person, but gunwook adores his siblings, always willing to come over to just see them.

the two have been dating for maybe half a year, but they've been friends for much longer than that. gunwook knows about y/n's situation, how he's stuck taking care of siblings because even though he wants to leave, he doesn't have the heart to leave them because his mom can't provide for them.

gunwook usually always comes over, whenever y/n is especially tired and simply feels like he can't do anything, gunwook will keep his siblings company as he collects himself.

of course, having to take care of your three child siblings whilst just becoming an adult yourself can take a huge mental toll on someone, and y/n isn't really doing well in this situation.

he blinks and sighs, covering his face in his hands as he feels his body about to slump over. he really just wants to fall on the floor and not wake up for a super long time.

when he focuses again, gunwook is now coloring with the three, who (surprisingly) stopped eating their candy and didn't ask for any more. gunwook has always had this power, he's always been able to easily calm down the kids amazingly.

a sort of charm, maybe.

gunwook notices his partners silence and turns to look at him, blinking. "y/n? everything okay?"

y/n hums, focusing once more. "yeah just.. tired".

gunwook stares, a knowing glint in his eye. he then looks back to the three coloring and smiles at them. "you guys continue, okay? i'm just gonna go talk to y/n".

the three nod, quickly going back to their coloring sheets and completely ignoring when gunwook stands up and turns y/n's way.

y/n is confused for a moment, he's about to question what gunwook meant but he quickly wraps an arm around his waist, nudging him lightly in the waist as they begin walking down the hallway.

"when was the last time you got a full eight hours of sleep, babe?" he immediately asks when the two of them are far away enough from the kids, y/n chuckles depressingly, because they both already know the answer to that question.

"do my eye bags not give it away?"

y/n laughs awkwardly, and gunwook simply glares at him.

"y/n" gunwook grabs his hands, and y/n shuts his eyes. "you really need to leave, what? are you gonna do this forever?"

"i'm not i just—" y/n pauses, god he's so tired, he feels like he can barely get his words out at this point. "i can't leave, it feels selfish to leave".

"it's not selfish to leave if your already doing everything, y/n, think about yourself, please?"

gunwook's words are said simply, he doesn't raise his voice, his tone doesn't change, he just tells it to y/n how it is, he tells him his opinion calmly and without issue.

ah, charms.. as usual.

y/n grasps his hands harder, as if he never wants to let go. he processes the words but he can't find a way to respond to them, for some reason. he blinks, staying quiet.

"i'll find you something y/n" gunwook whispers. "and you'll finally be able to live your own life, and take care of yourself, and.. you'll be fine".

y/n laughs silently. "your corny".

"corny? really?"

y/n laughs again.

"y/n, i just want you to be happy, you deserve to be happy, you deserve good things" gunwook says, and y/n somehow keeps the tears from falling from his eyes.

y/n lightly nudges him, and gunwook puts his arm around his waist once again. "you are corny".

"you love my corniness".

"yes, yes i do, how'd you know?"

they laugh, and y/n takes a few more seconds to simply stare fondly at gunwook. of course, his life wasn't ideal, his life wasn't amazing, he had many struggles it'd take a while to deal with.

but he had gunwook, gunwook was there for him, and that was more than enough.

gunwook was there for him.

and he's always will be.

#park gunwook #zerobaseone #zb1 #zb1 gunwook #park gunwook x reader #zb1 imagines #zb1 scenarios #zb1 drabbles #park gunwook imagines #𑁍 ࣪˖ 𓂃 isa's works!

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