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cherry-pop-soda · 10 months

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Hi hi hi!!! I wanna know more about the roller skating 👀

hi sorry it took me so long to get to this!!! i just have no idea where to begin HDSJDH

so i guess one thing i’ll start with is the different disciplines. ill give ice skating equivalents as much as i can so it makes more sense. so there’s:

freestyle/freeskating, which is the one with jumps and spins like you see the most on tv. i did this one for a long time but i don’t care for jumps very much so i eventually stopped. (love spins though)

freedance, which is the equivalent of ice dance if you’ve ever seen that. it’s the one with all the footwork and “twizzles” (twizzles are literally so hard jesus christ). i did this one for not as long because i started doing it started later on but it was my favorite. it was the most expressive and open one to me where i had the most freedom to perform. i still miss it. (theres also team freedance, where a guy and girl do a freedance together, but i never did this. it’s really complicated and fun to watch though and also team freedance lifts are kind of insane)

dance, which is basically like doing a ballroom dance pattern/steps around the floor. there’s team dance where you do it like real ballroom dancing, with a partner, and solo dance where you do it by yourself. team dance is scary asf and i did it for like two years max when i was maybe 10ish. i almost did it again but it was scary and i wasnt the right height for the guy so then i ended up not.

style dance, which is like a freedance except you stick one round of a regular dance pattern somewhere in the middle of it. i did this for like a year because mostly only the higher up levels and older age groupings have to, and i wasn’t there for a long time before i quit, but it was fun. (there’s also a team version of this, but ditto from team freedance, i did not do it)

figures, which is a totally different thing where you stand on one leg and follow circles painted on the floor. you have to do your best to stay on the line. you also add one foot turns eventually. it looks and sounds really boring, but it’s incredibly fun when you’re at a high level. it’s incredibly incredibly precise. sometimes whether or not your foot was on the line could be a matter of something as small as the way you angled your ear. out of all the things i did i was the best at this. the precision gave me a headache sometimes but at the same time it was my favorite part 😅

loops, which are like tinier figures (the circles you follow are a lot smaller) and instead of doing turns and stuff you make literal, and i mean LITERAL, loops on the floor. there’s usually a precisely proportioned loop drawn on the floor so you have something to follow as well. it sounds weird, but it’s equally fun and scary. they’re a lot of fun. (well, except when you’re doing them on a really slippery floor, and your foot keeps losing traction and slipping out from under you 😂)

pairs, which is the one you see on tv with ice skating where there’s a team of a guy and a girl and the guy lifts the girl and spins her and throws her. (btw, im not exaggerating when i say throws her, theres for real these things where the guy just throws the girl into a jump and she has to rotate and land it by herself. i hated these with a passion because they were scary. there’s also another similar thing where the guy throws the girl and she rotated, but he catches her at the end. i hated those slightly less because they were a little less scary.) also, oh my god, i have insane stories from doing lifts, holy shit. there’s some lifts that i really liked because they were fun and secure and i could see everything and some that i hated because they felt unstable. there’s at least one lift that i personally think should be banned because it’s so unstable. it’s also different than ice skating pairs because there’s a few things you do in rollerskating pairs that would be so insanely dangerous on ice skates that they don’t do them (see: The Guillotine Spin ™) (please ask me about this, i have so many stories and i could go on forever and it’s my favorite to talk about because it’s insane, it needs its own post truly)

quartet, which is like. a showy thing in a group of four people. i never did it so i don’t know that much, but i did watch people i know do it.

show numbers. i despise these because whenever we did them there was SO MUCH DRAMA (once again i have so many stories it could use it’s own post) but if done well they can actually be a lot of fun. basically it’s just a big group of people performing a show together, with some tricks like pinwheels and group circles, and other things i have no idea how to explain. usually there’s a theme and everybody has costumes. (i’ve been all kinds of things, including but not limited to a chicken and also a dragonfly)

precision team. i never did this and only saw it rarely, so sorry if my explanation isn’t as good here. basically it’s a lot like a show number but the goal is for everybody to be as perfectly in sync as possible with every step. there’s also usually more people in these, which makes it even harder. they’re kind of insane to watch, but they’re not very common.

i should probably make another entire post to explain how competitions work, especially because it’s different in america than everywhere else. (the american “we have to do everything differently” still shows up a lot in this sport, which is a whole other subject i could also talk a lot about. there’s differences in age groupings, skill level groupings, scoring styles (i could go on about this forever too) and even the style of how you do dance steps between america and the rest of the world. it’s kind of annoying at times.) but one thing that’s the same with ice skating is the regionals->nationals->worlds pipeline. however i think ice skating also has sectionals before regionals which roller figure skating does not have. there’s also other international competitions aside from worlds, which are very fun. i have plenty of stories from when i went to those, as well as plenty of stories from both regionals and nationals. crazy shit always happens at competitions, lmao.

and there’s also achievement tests, where judges come in and judge your skills im a certain area and you get either a pass or fail. also when you pass they send you a little pin in the mail! i have a ribbon with most of mine stuck to it (i lost a few though, lol). i can also judge lower level tests which i do from time to time.

anyways, this is just an overview!! i’m telling you i only just skimmed the surface with this post. it’s a very insane sport with a lot of different aspects going on all at once. i don’t even know how i keep track of all the crazy stories i have, but i’m happy to tell more of them !!!

#cherry talks about roller skating #<- making a tag !!

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morganee · 1 year

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Byler Fic Rec Week - Day 6: Canon divergence

the taste of the color by waffles_isa (@waffles-isa) (699 words, complete)

It's a world where people are only able to see in black and white until they find their soulmate. Everyone's worried about it, but Mike is completely chill.

Static Re-connection by IllogicalFallacy (@illogical-fallacy) (62k, complete)

AND - H E R E - I - T H O U G H T - U ‘ D - F O R G E T - M E N E V E R N E V E R - E V E R - ? N E V E R - E V E R He thought about the way Will had looked at him all those years ago, lying in the hospital bed, eyes not his own. Even through the fog of possession, something behind Will’s gaze had clicked and recognized Mike for who he was. Even without anything else left, Will had still remembered the connection he had to his mom - and... to Mike. His trembling fingers hesitated for an infinite moment, before typing faster than his brain could hope to process, P R M S E - ? Y E S A miles-apart, oblivious mutual pining, emotional summer vacation disaster-fest starring Mike, Will, and one incredibly unreliable radio connection.

must be a devil between us by els bloody rollerskate (@super-nova5045) (37k, ongoing)

Don’t assume that because every gate was closed by your telekinetic girlfriend before the world split in two everything will be okay. Your best friend might become a new target of this monster four months later on summer camp and be in grave danger. Or do. He’ll have to die. Ever since November 1983, when Will Byers went missing, shit has just gone downhill for Hawkins, tragedy after tragedy afflicting a once peaceful town. For the first time ever, Mike Wheeler, is at peace – he’s going to Camp Hero in the summer of ’86, where the high-schoolers of Hawkins bond for a summer of “totally rad, epic fun”. The only thing that could possibly spoil it? His best friend, Will, happens to be attending camp too, as well as his girlfriend El – the two people Mike was trying to avoid; the sheer level of awkward tension between them driving him insane. Mike’s trying his best to ignore Will and even worse, ignore the feelings for Will he tried to repress, too. However, when his assumed-dead dungeon master, Eddie Munson, steps foot on Camp Hero on one midsummer night, Mike knows he must get over his tension with Will and El and reunite his friends to destroy Vecna, once and for all.

A Hope to Cling To by midnighteverlark (18k, complete)

While talking to Will in the shed, trying to break through the Mind Flayer's control, Mike starts thinking about what he would do if Will gave up, and completely unintentionally blurts, "I love you." Mike's existential crisis follows. Meanwhile, Will uses the words as his anchor, holding onto this glimmer of hope with all his might as he struggles to hang on against the Mind Flayer. Basically, a more Mike/Will-centric version of episodes 8 and 9 and the time beyond, with a good dose of of grit and Serious Stuff but also plenty of happiness and some fluff to come. (I mean, come on - Will is a gay kid in the 80s who just craves love and acceptance, and he deserves A Break. Mike is just realizing he's bisexual and he needs some love and acceptance and A Break too.)

king of my heart by bookinit (@bookinit02) (21k, complete)

Will finds himself wondering, sometimes, if his mark matches Mike’s. He thinks it must, really—he can’t imagine wanting to spend the rest of his life with anyone else. Mike’s cool and strong and brave and funny. His hair flops down over his forehead and his eyes bore into Will’s soul, always so steadily intense. He doesn’t cry when he scrapes his knee. Instead, he just gets back up. Will thinks that if Mike isn’t his soulmate, something is seriously wrong with the world.

truth serum side effects (may include: accidental gay confessions) by sterrenhemel (1k, complete)

"You okay?" Mike asks him. "Yeah, your hands are really soft." And— Jesus Christ, what was that? Sure, it wasn't a lie, but... what?! "Uh, thank you?" Mike replies awkwardly. Will wants to hit himself. Why would he say that? "I'm sorry. I don't know why I said that." Or the one in which Will is hit by a truth serum.

#byler #bylerficrecweek2023 #bylerficrecweek #byler fic rec #byler fic #will byers #mike wheeler #stranger things

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coshechka · 9 months

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saw a post about robot chicken on my dash and got hit with a wave of such raw fury my eyes began to bleed. full disclosure i never actually watched it for like fun but i got to work on a few episodes back when i worked at the pirate translation studio and it was the fucking W-O-R-S-T. might seem easy to an untrained eye but!!! 1) our job apart from actual translating included maintaining the glossary and the character list which had to include Every Single Speaking Character appearing on Every Single Episode with their name AND face and. you can imagine 2) how many mothershitting characters could be featured in a single episode composed of a gajillion 10-second sketches all about a new set of different cunts you've never even fucking heard of in the last 25 years of your life like who the fuck is punky fucking brewster? i guess i'll be spending the next ten minutes learning just to fill one more row in the goddamn google doc table which 3) served no fucking real life purpose given that there would be like 4 voice actors maybe working on one show? so that's hours of your life sorting through buckets of shit with your bare hands for nothing. and 4) the motherfucking table was miles and miles long and full of images and it would get blown up to the point that we had to make a new document like every half season to keep our sanity and if you think my piece of shit laptop was able to bear the load with dignity as a result and not choke like i made it download cia war crime databases every time i had to scroll two pages down you're very very wrong. also you had to cross-reference with the old tables anyway for consistency so. good luck with that. and finally 5) i snatched the fucking star wars musical episode which i think was actually one of the fun ones but. jesus fucking rollerskating christ. never again.

#i'm actually genuinely proud of all my song translations from that era but the amount of grinding this took was so not worth it #oh btw i didn't put it right the whole episode was not a musical if it were i would for sure pick my brains out through my nose mummy style

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neigma · 6 years

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I made a fantroll, and he's a fish. Ye :) Alistn Cermun - brought a knife to a gunfight and won - constant headaches due to water pressure - don't ask how he rollerskates underwater Aquacen - Sign of the Avant-Garde

#I'm actually kinda proud of this #this is my first good full body piece #also Jesus Christ in a handbasket drawing rollerskates is hard #homestuck #hiveswap #fantroll #neigma art

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pettyprocrastination · 4 years

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Panty & Bambi

Francisco “Catfish” Morales x Roller Derby!Reader

Summary: Helena Morales celebrates her 12th birthday at the roller rink, where she plays cupid for her kind father who’s attention has been captured by a confident skater that danced about the rink.

Warnings: profanity, uhhh mention of alcohol?? Frankie being a fucking BOTTOM about buff thick women lmao.

Word Count:2.9k

Perm Taglist: @honestlystop

authors note:Wrote this because I’m sad about not being able to do derby this season and i’ve been watching lots of bouts to comfort myself in it lmao. Big inspiration to @qveenbvtch who wrote a fucking MAGICAL javi rollerskating fic called Ring My Bell!! It’s so fucking good read it here !!!!!! Big thank you to my boo @captainsamwlsn for reading this for me ILY Thais so fkin much <3

“For her next birthday could your daughter pick something that isn’t fucking murder on my knees?”

Frankie stared at his friend and god father to his now twelve year old daughter under the flashing fluorescent lights of the roller rink before taking a sip of the cheap beer in his hand. “Don’t whine Santi.” Frankie laughed. “We both know you’d do anything for her.”

Which was true.

Helena had only been a baby when the group went to Columbia to take down Lorea. They had always been a close-knit group of friends, but what happened on that trip, that shit-show of a mission, made them appreciate having each other even more. They visited Tom’s family when they were able to, the first few months after his death his ex-wife wouldn’t even let them on the front lawn. She took to screaming and cursing at them for his death, they didn’t tell her about the teenage boy that took her ex-husband’s life to avenge his brother.

Tess did in fact get into Harvard. She sent Pope letters from time to time. She didn’t blame him or the others for her father’s death like her mother did. The boys couldn’t say the same for themselves.

But the family they did have, the sweet chunky cheeked little infant girl Frankie was proud to call his daughter? Oh they all worshiped her. Little Helena had them all wrapped around her finger from the moment they set eyes on her.

The men had been there for every tea party, fairy tale, and birthday. They watched her go from mashing cake into her mouth at one years old to laughing at a skate rink with her friends at twelve.

Frankie had been there for everything and his boys were there to help him.

He couldn’t say the same for Liana.

“Twelve years brother.” Pope remarked. Frankie groaned and let his head fall forward.

“You don’t have to tell me man. Where did it all go?” He looked out on the rink with a smile, watching his daughter skate with ease on the polished wood floors while Ben wobbled along next to her, looking more like a baby taking its first steps than a grown man.

“It feels like just yesterday I was changing her diapers, now she’s in eighth grade.” Frankie sighed, released the vice like grip he had on the neck of his bottle. “Fuck man, I’m not ready for her to go to high school, I don’t know what I’ll do with myself.”

“You’ll do what you’ve always done for her, ‘Fish.” Frankie looked up to see Will standing at his side, setting a comforting hand on his shoulder. “You’ll be there for her. Which is more than I can say about half of the dead beat dads out there now.”

“Dad!” She called out, her pigtails swaying as she turned to him, hands held out with a big grin. “Come on!”

Frankie ignored the pop of his knees as he stood up with a groan.

“I’ll pray for your back hermano!” Santi called out with a barking laugh as his friend slowly stepped onto the rink with shaking legs

Frankie couldn’t give his little girl the world no matter how much he wanted to, he was just one man. But damn if he wouldn’t skate with her at her birthday party.

Helena took his hand in hers as they skated, which he knew was more for his safety than hers. But he still felt his heart clench at seeing just how small his daughter’s hand was compared to his.

“How are you so bad at this!” She giggled upon seeing his knees buckle for the third time in two minutes. While Helena had taken to roller skates with ease, the same could not be said for her father, who clutched onto her hand like a lifeline.

“Mija, the last time I was on wheels like this was before I broke my ankle skateboarding.” A woman skated by them, the wheels on her skated lighting up a bright pink each time they made contact with the floor. You turned, skating backwards for a moment with a carefree smile before turning forward again.

Frankie’s knees buckled when Helena’s hip bumped against his.

“God-” His daughter snorted. “Maybe if you stopped staring at that lady and focused more on skating you wouldn’t be wobbling like an old man on a walker!”

His head snapped to his daughter like a whip, for a moment uncaring how he nearly lost his balance. “I am not-I wasn’t-did you just call me an old man?”

His daughter simply stared up at him with that smug little grin that he swore Santi taught her.

“She’s pretty.” His daughter noted, he spared another glance up, feet sliding across the floor as he did.

You skated around another couple, hips swaying to the song playing over the speaker and hands raised high over your head. You brought one foot in front of the other in a sashay along the rink, gliding over the floor with grace that Frankie couldn’t even try to get as he gripped his daughter’s hand for dear life while they skated along the inner rim of the rink.

His daughter tugged at his hand, which had gotten arguably more sweaty when he realized that you would be passing them once more. “You should say hi.”

Frankie shook his head and offered his daughter a smile. “It’s your birthday ‘lena.” He reminded her. “You should be having fun with your friends instead of worrying about your old man’s dating life.”

Helena tilted her head in thought before smiling and letting go of her father’s hand. “Okay!”

“Wait-wait!” Frankie shot his hands out to balance himself, without the help of his daughter he felt even more off-kilter and out of his element. “Where are you going!?”

His daughter laughed before joining her friends that had skated ahead of them. “You told me to have fun with my friends! So I’m going to!” She looked behind him and smiled so wide he felt his heart drop. “Have fun dad! You got this!”

“Helena Maria Morales if you don’t-” Frankie’s threat was cut off when his legs wobbled against, one foot shooting out to steady him, except he was on fucking roller skates, which only caused his foot to slide out from beneath him and send him tumbling onto the hard floor beneath him.

Had it not been for his skating savior that is.

You shot forward, one hand gripping the collar of his shirt meanwhile the other grabbed the waistband of his trousers to steady him. On instinct his hands gripped your hips like you were a life preserver and he was a man lost at sea.

“You alright there buddy?” Frankie simply stared at you, throat tight and mouth wide open as his bright wracked for a single thought, a single word to say to you.

“Jesus Christ.” Santi groaned from the other side of the rink. He and the other boys sat watching in equal parts awe and dismay at their friend being caught like damsel and then absolutely flounder in front of you. “Say something you idiot!”

“Oh this is painful.” Ben snorted. “I don’t want to look away!”

“I’m uh, yeah I’m good.” Frankie realized as you pulled him upright how fucking strong you were, and it made his knees knock together for a whole different reason. His hands tensed and he realized he was still holding onto your hips. “Oh fuck, I’m so sorry I didn’t mean to-”

“It’s fine, really.” You held up a hand to silence him, his mouth snapped shut as if it were a trained command. “I know you aren’t some creep trying to cop a feel, I’ve been watching you skate for a while now.”

Frankie looked down at the floor. “Yeah well, the last time I was on wheels was when I was sixteen and tried to impress a girl at the mall by grinding on a rail with my skateboard.”

You slowly took his hand in yours and began to skate forward, slow smooth steps that he did his best to mimic. He was so focused on not falling he hadn’t realized that the pair of you were skating like a couple. “Did it work?”

“Fuck no!” He laughed. “I broke my ankle, lost a tooth, then she and her friends all laughed at me.”

You smiled at his story, noting the way the multi-colored lights bounced off his profile. “Well, I’ll do my best to make sure you don’t break an ankle or lose any teeth tonight, alright Bambi?”

Frankie’s feet wobbled again and tightened his grip on your hands, marveled for a moment at how soft they felt against his. “Bambi?”

“Yeah.” You offered him a slight shrug, he still wasn’t sure how you could skate around others with such ease while also maintaining a conversation, but was thankful for it either way. “You both have brown hair, both have shit balance-”

“Gee thanks.”

You giggled and flicked the tip of his cap. “Let me finish.” You scolded. “You both have shit balance, and you're both pretty fuckin’ cute.”

Frankie felt his heart race and his lips curl into a shy smile. He watched the colors that danced over your form like a kaleidoscope. “Well my actual name is Frankie-” The tip of his skate dipped forward, catching on the floor and sending him careening right into your arms. You kept your feet together at an angle to keep from falling, hands grabbing onto him as he barreled forward, arms thrown around you and nose pressed against yours. “-but I guess Bambi is pretty fitting too.”

“Well Bambi-” Frankie felt a tingle down his spine every time you called him that. A nickname so sweet and innocent had no business making him feel so hot under the collar. “How about we take a break from trying to keep you from falling flat on your ass and go sit down for a bit? If your daughter doesn’t mind that is.”

He looked over your shoulder, where Helena stood with two of her friends, smiling wide and flashing her dad two thumbs up.

“I don’t think she'll mind.”

```

“A pilot?” You whistled, leaning back in his chair. “Damn, you’ve got me beat. I’m just a high school English teacher!”

Frankie shook his head, toe tapping on the linoleum floor of the little snack corner of the rink that pair of you were sitting at. “Now I wouldn’t say all that. I mean, spending your entire day dealing with teenagers who definitely don’t want to be there? You must have the patience of a saint.”

You bumped your knee against his. “We’ll now you’re just trying to flatter me.”

Frankie held one hand up and the other over his heart, as if he were taking an oath. “All truth here, coming from a former AP English kid.” You gasped and held one hand over your chest and pretended to swoon.

“An honor student of my subject? Be still my beating heart!” Frankie snorted into his drink, which caused you to in turn laugh loud enough for the people in front of them to turn and glare.

He had always hated dating. It felt so forced, so uncomfortable. The icebreakers were only met with bland replies of women who clearly weren’t interested in him, and only became less interested when they learned he was a father. That or they would praise him for being so “brave” to raise his daughter on his own. What, as if he was supposed to walk out on her just like her mother did? It turned him off to the whole situation.

But this? Sitting in the tiny snack corner at a roller rink, sipping overpriced sodas and laughing loud enough to annoy people while staring at the most beautiful woman he’s ever seen? Oh it was better than any date at a four star restaurant he’s been on.

“Trust me.” He told you. “You would’ve hated me as a student.”

“I could never!”

“Oh yes you could!” He laughed. “I fell asleep in class all the time, never answered questions and uh honestly?” He pulled his hat low over his face with a shy smile. “If I had you as a teacher? I’d never get anything done.”

His eyes flicked to the sleeve of your shirt, seeing your biceps strain against it as you leaned over for your drink. The shorts you wore hugged the thick muscle of your legs and he felt his throat tighten up at the thought.

You smiled and pushed his cap up so you could see his brown doe eyes. “I’m gonna take that as a compliment, Bambi.”

Santi watched the pair of you, nearly nose to nose when you leaned in close to toy with his hat. He smiled and bumped Will’s shoulder. “Look at ‘em go. ‘Fish still has it.”

“That’s our boy.”

They had all gotten the call when Liana left, she had simply packed her bags in the middle of the night and vanished. Leaving Francisco and their six month old baby alone. They knew how much it hurt him to see her leave, how much he blamed himself and wracked his brain for how to fix it, how many times he called her and pleaded for her to come home. If not for him, for their daughter. Their little baby girl who wouldn’t stop crying because she was hungry and mommy was gone.

But to see him now, blushing like a school boy while talking with a woman who his daughter practically pushed him into, they all felt a swell of pride.

If any of them deserved a happy ending, it was Catfish.

“If he doesn’t ask her out-” Ben sighed. “I’ll kill him. Just fucking murder him.”

Sadly, just as Frankie was about to ask that dreaded question, if he could get your number or hell, if you’d like to get a drink sometime, a woman with bright pink hair poked her head over your table.

“Hey panty!” She called out and Frankie damn near got whiplash at that nickname. “Can you give me a ride home? My car is busted and my boyfriend can’t pick me up.”

Your shoulders deflated at her response and Frankie couldn’t help but feel a little prideful that you felt dejected to leave his side. “Yeah no problem Jammie.”

“Thanks!” The girl chirped. “I’ll meet you outside!”

When she left, Frankie turned to you with a slow smile, his eyebrows shot up to his hairline. “Panty?”

“Ughh I know!” You groaned into your hands. “It’s not some weird nickname or anything it’s just my derby name I swear!”

Frank leaned back, eyes wide in admiration. “You play roller derby?”

You grinned, shoulders back and confidence oozing off of you at the mention of your sport. You tucked your hands behind your head and Frankie took that moment to marvel at the muscle that strained against your shirt. “Damn right I do. Not to brag but I’ve been the MVP for the last three seasons.”

It was absolutely a brag and he loved it.

“You know-” Your eyes flicked to his, shy and skittish. “-we have a bout, a game, this Saturday if you want to come. It’ll be here, at eight. You don’t have to-”

“I’ll be there.” He promised. The thought of you in those spandex shorts on skates, being positively brutal to other women on the track with that confident grin? Christ, he wouldn’t miss it for the world. “I’ve never watched roller derby before but, it’s recently piqued my interest.”

You smiled, raising your foot to knock it against his. “Well I hope it keeps you interested Frankie, because you’ve piqued mine too.”

Frankie felt a swell of pride in his chest at your shy smile and sweet words. He felt like a kid back in high school, trying his best to woo the girl in his biology class with passing notes in hopes of getting a date.

Only this time he had more experience and a lot less acne.

“Panty!” The woman shouted. “Lets gooo! I work the morning shift tomorrow!”

Your face fell. “Looks like that’s my que to head out. I’ll see you Friday though?”

“Fuck yes.” Frankie breathed out, before regaining his composure. “I mean uh yeah, yeah I’ll uh, see if I can make it.” You laughed and stood up from the table, turning on your heel at the final moment to press a quick kiss to his cheek.

“I’ll see you then, Bambi.” You purred, before walking out of the door and past His daughter and three grown ass men, who stood in a circle nearby like a bunch of gossiping old women.

Frankie didn’t even have a moment to realize you kissed him before his daughter bounded over to him asking eighty questions within two seconds.

“What's her name? Is she cool? She seems cool! Are you guys dating now? Did you ask her out? Did you get her number?”

He brought this daughter in for a hug, bringing his hand down on the crown of her head in a playful nuzzle.

“Alright speedy gonzales.” She laughed into his side and tried to wriggle out of his bear hug. “No more matchmaking, you hear me?”

“But it worked! Didn’t it?” His stern facade melted away at the excited grin on Helena’s face.He sighed, letting his chin fall onto the top of her head.

“We’ll just have to wait and see mija.”

His daughter whooped in victory, throwing her hands high in the air in celebration.

“That means it worked!”

#Panty & Bambi #frankie morales #catfish morales #francisco morales #francisco morales x reader #catfish x reader #frankie morales x reader #triple frontier #pedro pascal #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal x you #the meaning of her derby name will make more sense in the next chapter i SWEAR

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brbsavinggotham · 3 years

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⛲aspire, foresee, venture 🌊

aspire: what are 3 things you want to achieve next year?

i’m taking a pretty big leap in 2021 and becoming my own boss, jesus christ i’m scared. and excited! but mostly terrified. so the main thing i’d like to achieve is to... not fail at this project. or if i do fail, i’d like to fail knowing that i fully threw myself into it and didn’t hold anything back out of fear. i’d also like to make a pair of jeans and save some money for a house, god i’m so sick of renting.

foresee: in 6 months i will be...

happy! better at rollerskating!

venture: name 3 new things you tried this year.

this was a pretty big year for me extending my comfort zone. firstly i gave cohabitation a shot and it’s better than i thought it would be. being in love is good actually, and there’s way less chores to do when you live together. secondly, i tried my hand at making something tailored - a blazer! it was incredibly fun and mostly successful, the only downside is i have nowhere to wear a blazer to. and lastly, i tried squats! my newfound love. historically i’ve had terrible messed up knees and all of last year i refused to try squats even though everyone told me they’re actually good for your knees, but i gave in to peer pressure finally and it’s been amazing!

#meme things #flipwizard #thanks for the questions these were fun!!!

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ahh-fxck · 4 years

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Modern Gay Bar AU: Warrior’s Blues Chapter 2

Hey guys, it’s here! I DID IT! I did the thing! Chapter 2 is complete for your reading pleasure. Hope you like it :)

Author’s Note: This fic deals with some pretty heavy themes, including but not limited to alcohol, homophobia, military trauma, and PTSD. You have been warned.

Ao3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24903460

A big thanks to @stressedspidergirlsfandomblog , the best beta in the world.

Tag list: @astouract @smolpoe @yes-im-the-violin-girl @ladyknight-keladry

Please let me know if you would like to be tagged for future installments!

Chapter 2: Do I Look Like I Have A Permit?

“Selling drinks to minors?” He asks quietly, as Jaskier hangs up the phone with a heartfelt curse and then picks it up to dial again.

The younger man nods, lip curled in a snarl, punching the buttons on the base of the phone as if he could slake his rage on them. “Fucking ass cocking cheerios, yes, and of all the nights-” There is the sound of a voicemail beeping coming out of the handset, and Jaskier snaps, “Julia, if there’s any God in heaven right now you will pick up this damn phone. I need a bartender yesterday. Call me if you get this tonight.” He slams the handset back down onto the base and presses his fingers to the bridge of his nose, slumping down to sit on the desk.

Geralt shifts awkwardly again, eyes playing over Jaskier’s graceful body as he hunches in thought. His eyes drag over his sequined shoulders, linger on the soft hairs at the nape of his neck. The skin on his chest pulls hotly and prickles as he studies them, searching for words. “Uh…” he manages, throat tight, then grimaces. “No one else to call?” His insides feel like they are fizzing, the sensation making it hard to think clearly.

“Mmph,” Jaskier mumbles, flapping his hand at the cards in irritation. “No. No, my staff isn’t very large, and I’ve never… never had to call back up on Pride.” A quick grin, more a snarl, flitted across his usually soft face. “Tips are too good. God’s cock, Lars is a fucking idiot. I swear if I see him again I’ll-”

“Do you need help?” The words tumble out of Geralt’s mouth before he can think them all the way through.

Chapter 2: Do I Look Like I Have a Permit?

He awakens an unknown amount of time later to a rhythmic buzzing that shakes the bed frame subtly. As he lifts his head, the sound resolves into a thumping bass beat that reverberates through the whole building. He sits up, swinging his legs off of the bed, and scrubs his face tiredly. His stubble scrapes against his palms, his bandages, his injured hand beginning to distantly throb as he awakens. His head is still swimming faintly, and the sensation of his aching hand doesn’t feel quite real. The humid air is cooler now, taking on a clammy quality in the old brick room, and it smells faintly of the night.

He sits for a long moment with his face in his hands, trying to pull himself together. The sleep has helped, but the clarity it brought carried with it unmistakeable despair, as well. Staring numbly at his boots, he feels a wave of shame creep up his body as he remembers again what he’s lost. He eventually fumbles them clumsily on, desperate for something to do with his hands, some way to feel less vulnerable and lost. The process is hampered by his injured hand, but he manages it eventually. He barely has time to steal another guilty look at the phone before he hears the bang of the back room door slamming, followed by raised voices.

“...Kids, Lars! I swear to fucking Jesus Christ on rollerskates, you absolute asshole, if I get shut down because of you I will find you. You always check ID, especially on 18 and up nights! ALWAYS,” There was a mutter, and the louder voice cut it off, “I Do Not Care if it was dark, you absolute fucking dumpster fire of a human being! This is literally what I pay you for. NO! That is what I paid you for. Get out! Out, out, out! You’re fucking fired, and if I catch you anywhere near any of those fucking boys, I will personally see you to the fucking hospital!” The last word is roared, loud enough that Geralt startles on the bed. The springs creak as his body jars, and as he is beginning to stand, the door to the office bangs open. Jaskier, alight with fury, barges into the office and seizes a rolodex on the desk, flipping through it with short, sharp motions.

“Fuck me, fuck me, fuck me, fucking bag of cocks, FUCK!” he swears. Abruptly he stops, stormy blue eyes coming up and fixing on Geralt standing awkwardly near the bed. “Ah, fuck me. I’m sorry, I hope I didn’t wake you,” he says, pulling a face. “I ah, just had to fire my bartender in the middle of the rush.” His gaze drops back to the rolodex, still flicking furiously. “Fuck me, I don’t think any of these assholes are even going to be near their phone at this time of night. Not on fucking Pride…” His voice shakes with stress as he pulls out a few cards, tossing them onto the desk. Geralt watches silently as he begins to dial, shifting from foot to foot.

“Selling drinks to minors?” He asks quietly, as Jaskier hangs up the phone with a heartfelt curse and then picks it up to dial again.

“Do you need help?” The words tumble out of Geralt’s mouth before he can think them all the way through.

Jaskier groans out a low chuckle, shaking his head. “Oh, darling, do I ever. But what could you possibly do? Bounce? Bartend? Have you even been behind a bar before?” He drops his head into his hands, soft chestnut hair falling over his face as he rubs his eyes. “Fuck me,” he adds as an afterthought, muffled between his hands.

“...I think you underestimate the amount of time servicemen spend in bars,” Geralt finally says, a lopsided smile creeping across his face. “I can make most drinks in my sleep.”

Jaskier’s head comes up, and he eyes Geralt suspiciously. “Drinking is not nearly the same thing as mixing, dear heart,” he says doubtfully, but Geralt can tell from the way he is hesitating that he is at least listening.

Sighing, he steps away from the bed and goes to lean against the wall in front of Jaskier, crossing his arms across his chest in a confident gesture. Here, at least, he is on solid ground. He may have lost everything, but he knows drinks. “Old Fashioned. One teaspoon simple syrup, two dashes Angostura Bitters, orange peel, two ounces of rye or bourbon, one maraschino cherry.”

Jaskier draws back, tilting his head to the side as he listens with a little furrow between his brows.

Warming to the topic, he feels more sure of himself as he begins to list ingredients without a second thought. “Dark and Stormy. Two ounces of dark rum, five ounces ginger beer, garnish with a lime. Long Island Iced tea. Half ounce gin, half ounce vodka, half ounce rum, half ounce tequila, half ounce triple sec, two tablespoons fresh lemon juice, spoonful of sugar, ice cubes, cola, garnish with a lemon wedge.” Geralt begins, slowly, to grin. It feels good to surprise Jaskier, to show him that he’s competent. “I can keep going.”

“How…?” Jaskier finally asks, mystified.

Geralt’s grin widens, and he finds his eyes traveling down Jaskier’s half-naked body, then dragging slowly back up again. As their eyes meet, he drawls, “Always had a good eye for proportions.”

Jaskier sits back a little further, small spots of color forming on his cheeks, but then narrows his eyes at Geralt. “What about a Cuban Rose?” he asks, suspicious but also intrigued.

Geralt replies promptly, “One and a half ounces white rum, three-quarters ounce orange juice, and a dash of grenadine. I can do more.”

“Dark N’ Fluffy,” Jaskier presses. He is still eyeing him doubtfully, but his eyebrows shoot up as Geralt replies.

“Two ounces marshmallow vodka, two ounces chocolate liqueur, one ounce cream, garnish with mini marshmallows and cocoa powder.” He chuckles, shaking his head. “Tastes like an easter egg kicked you in the teeth, but to each their own.” He can feel his body beginning to relax as he speaks about the drinks, feeling on firmer footing at last.

Jaskier sucks air between his teeth thoughtfully, then says, “Mai Tai.”

“Hmm… That’s a trick question. Do you want the Trader Vic’s version, or the crappy one?” Geralt fires back.

Laughing, Jaskier raises his hands in surrender. “Okay, okay. Fine. Got a server’s permit?”

“Do I look like I have a permit?” Geralt retorts, drily.

Jaskier tosses his head back and barks out another laugh, then shakes his head. “No. No, I suppose I can’t have everything.” He hovers on the edge of his desk, hesitating, then throws up his hands. “You know what? I can’t think of a better way out of this. You’re hired for the night.” Pushing upright, he bustles out of the office and into the dimly lit storage room beyond. “Come with me, let’s get you started.” He flings his arms out in a broad gesture, declaring merrily, “If I’m going to go out of business for breaking the law, I want it to be with drinks all around.”

“Hmm,” Geralt drawls, finding himself oddly charmed by the showy way Jaskier moves. Pushing off the office wall, he follows him into the storage room beyond.

Jaskier gestures around, pointing at necessary supplies. “Beer kegs, cups, napkins. The bar back knows where everything is, but don’t let him touch the cocktail shaker, the man is a menace. Mm, let’s see, straws… Yes. Alright, let’s go, darling, out front. It’s going to be loud, are you ready?” He pauses, blocking the doorway, turning an appraising eye on the big man behind him.

Drawing up short, Geralt also pauses as he reflects on the question. Normally, he would have scoffed and barged right past Jaskier out into the club, but he was still frazzled enough from earlier that the question merits a moment of consideration. Finally, he nods. Fierce blue eyes rake across him, and this time he meets the gaze steadily, unflinching. That seems to satisfy the younger man, and he gives a quick nod.

“Well, then, let’s be off!” he cries, pushing through the door and into the noisy, crowded club.

A wall of sound, scent, and colorful light hits Geralt like a truck as he steps out behind Jaskier onto the dance floor. Booming bass in a disco style beat thrums through the bodies as they dance, and a woman’s voice threads tinnily out from the speakers. “Look around, everywhere you turn is heartache, it's everywhere that you go,” she sings, Jaskier weaving along the wall towards the bar. “You try everything you can to escape, the pain of life that you know. When all else fails and you long to be, something better than you are today, I know a place where you can get away. It's called a dance floor…”

Geralt sets his shoulders and puts his head down, following quickly after Jaskier, trying not to look too closely at the people he is passing. The scent of sweat and cologne and sex is thick on the air, making him dizzy. It is with palpable relief that he ducks behind the bar, glad to put a solid piece of furniture between himself and the beautiful, gyrating people on the dance floor.

Over closer to the bar it is much quieter, even with the growing crowd queuing for drinks. The bar itself is surrounded by small tables, places where little knots of people gather to sit and drink together off of the main floor. He feels a little lost as he watches two men lean together, tongues sliding into each other’s mouths. Heat races across his shoulder blades and pulls at his groin, mingling with a sharp twist of fear. He is relieved when Jaskier begins to speak, half shouting over the music.

“Okay, darling, here’s how it’s going to work. I will show you where everything is, you show me your chops, and you get to keep the tips. Make sure to split them with the kitchen and bar staff, or they will hate you for life, I warn you now!” He begins bustling around behind the bar, identifying taps, pointing out hidden locations of necessaries like maraschino cherries and clean towels, then steps back. “Okay, I think that’s everything. Questions?” Geralt looks around the bar carefully, memorizing the locations of everything. Someone calls a complaint out to Jaskier, who holds up his hands apologetically. “We’ll be right with you, gorgeous! One moment!” His gaze returns to rest on Geralt, who is cracking the knuckles of his uninjured hand thoughtfully against his bicep.

Finally, Geralt shakes his head “I think I’m all set. Who’s the bar back?”

Jaskier grins, turning to shout back over his shoulder. “Yarpen? Where the fuck are you? It’s slammed out here!”

Around the corner of the kitchen door, a short, wiry man with a bald head and a full ginger beard appears almost immediately. “Here, just replacing the orange sli- hello,” he breaks off, taking in the towering figure of Geralt standing behind Jaskier. “Why, aren’t you fine!” The man’s green eyes twinkle playfully, his teeth flashing in a crooked grin. He is dressed in jeans, a leather harness adorning his spare, muscular torso, and a nipple ring winks up at Geralt in the dim light of the bar.

Rolling his eyes, Jaskier steps out from between the two of them. “Yarpen, this is Geralt, our new bartender for the night. Play nice, he’s new in town. Geralt, this is Yarpen, my bar back. Don’t let him get to you, he’s an idiot.” And with that, Jaskier smacks Yarpen’s muscular shoulder lightly. “If he needs to know where anything is, show him. Run the register. Keep an eye out in case he misses anything.” Turning to Geralt, he taps the man’s broad chest, “And check. Every. ID.”

Geralt grins easily down at Jaskier, studying his cerulean eyes, taking in his soft handsome face as it sets in a ferocious expression. His golden gaze lingers for a second on his thinned lips before flicking back up, eyes locking with Jaskier’s. “Got it. Check IDs, don’t fuck it up.” His body hums with the nearness of the other man, blood still fizzing like champagne. He feels better now, confident, almost forgetting to be afraid and heartsore as his eyes travel across the face in front of him.

Jaskier’s tongue flicks across his lips briefly as he considers Geralt, then seems to shake himself, nodding. “Exactly. Don’t fuck it up. I’ll be at the door if you need me.” He whirls, making apologetic noises to the deepening crowd at the bar. “Sorry darlings, had a minor emergency. Meet Geralt, your new bartender!” And with that, Jaskier flits out from behind the bar and races back to the front door of the club, relieving a man in a cook’s apron. The broad-shouldered man has wild red hair and an ominous frown, but as he approaches, Geralt sees that most of the lines on his face are from laughter. He moves aside, noting with surprise that the cook is even bigger than he is as he slides around him and passes into the kitchen. Then he turns to the crowd. “Right. Who’s first?”

#modern au#geraskier modern au#geraskier pride week 2020#gay bar#gay bar au#modern gay bar au#geralt#jaskier#geralt x jaskier#jaskier x geralt#geraskier#geraskier fic#geralt of rivia#julian alfred pankratz#pride#witcher#the witcher#the witcher fanfiction#the witcher fanfic

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spideyy-girl · 5 years

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Red Cheeks and Bloody Noses ~ Richie Tozier

Request: HEYYYY beautiful! I had an idea and I thought you’d be the perfect person to write it. I was hoping I could request a Richie T. x reader where she wants to do something nice for Richie so she rents out the Derry’s arcade/roller rink for a cute little hang out but it makes them both all flustered and ends up being a fluffy date with a bit of kissing? ✨

Summary: Richie takes Y/N out to distract her and have a fun day to themselves at the roller rink, even though Richie isn’t the best at skating…

Fandom: IT (2017)

Warnings: mentions PTSD, swears a lot, sexual innuendos (obviously, its Richie), blood (nothing too violent).

Word Count: 2016 (5.6 pages)

Date: March 11, 2019

A/N: So I sort of did Richie is more comforting the reader, but also the reader is comforting Richie sorta. Also sorry this took soooo long but I hope you like it. My first IT imagine yay!! REQUESTS ARE OPEN so if you liked this and want to see more, please tell me!!!!

It had been a week or so since the events that occurred at the crackhead house on Neibolt. It had also been a week since the Losers stopped talking to each other. Y/N sat in her room, legs crossed on her double bed, blank-mindedly staring at herself in the mirror hung up across from her. She had been in a dazed sort of state ever since she saw it, the creature had been plaguing her mind and appearing in her horrible nightmares since. She had tried reading a book, that always seemed to calm her down before, but she couldn’t find herself focused enough to even get through a page. In fact, she felt like she couldn’t focus on most things nowadays.

The loud ring of the telephone made her jump, and knock herself off the high bed. She rubbed her head, looking at the doorway. She steadily stood up and made her way downstairs, still trembling from the earlier shock. Her shaking hands slowly went for the receiver before picking it up and holding it to her ear.

“H-hello?” she asked quietly, hoping not to hear children singing some creepy anthem again. Her breaths were uneven, waiting for the person on the other line to respond to her.

“Jesus fucking Christ, Y/N. I thought I ringed Bill with all the s-s-s-stuttering!” Richie Tozier’s loud voice erupted through the smallish device, causing her to immediately bring it away from her ear slightly. She sighed and rolled her eyes.

“What do you want Richie?” she asked, slightly annoyed. Y/N L/N and Richie Tozier have known each other for as long as they could remember. Sure they were considered as best friends, but they still annoyed the hell out of each other. To Y/N because he kept asking her out, and to Richie because she wouldn’t accept his offer.

“What do you think I want, babydoll,” Richie says, trying to sound flirty but just coming through as awkward. “I want to take you out and for you to ride me like a merry go round-”

“Oh my fuck, Richie! Do you ever shut the fuck up!” Y/N screamed as to hopefully not hear the rest of that sentence. She closed her eyes tight and cringed, trying to get that horrible statement out of her head. “How many times do I have to tell you, it will never, EVER, happen.”

“You say that now,” Richie counterparts, she could hear his smirk in the way he talked.

“Yeah, and I’ve been saying it for the past 7 years,” she replies. She hears Richie sigh on the other side of the line.

“Yeah whatever, but it will happen!” Richie proclaims. Before you could tell you otherwise, he continues. “So… have you talked to anyone yet?” he said, his voice suddenly getting quiet. It was odd to hear Richie so serious and concerned.

“No, I tried calling Bevvy but she didn’t answer.” Y/N said, feeling sad again. When she had met Beverly, she was so happy that there was finally another girl in the Losers Club, since she had to deal with the four boys for at least a decade. They had gotten really close but had disagreed when it came down to the fighting the demon clown argument. “What about you? Have you heard from Eddie or any of the other boys?”

“Well, Stan invited me to his bar mitzvah, so that’s sick,” Richie said, he also sounded a bit down. “You’re actually, uh, t-the first person I’ve c-called.”

“Look who’s stuttering now?” Y/N joke light-heartedly, earning a small laugh from the boy.

“Yeah yeah, whatever,” Richie dismissed her quickly, before mumbling something that was almost inaudible, but she had just heard. “Goddammit, Y/N. The one time I tried to be nice to you-” he cut himself off with a sigh, before speaking at a normal level again. “How are you? How’s your, uh, injury?” he asked. Y/N took a deep sigh, before lifting her short sleeve up to her shoulder, revealing a large and still very bruised and puff gash, she pushed it back down, not wanting to look at it.

“Let’s just say that it’s definitely not going anywhere anytime soon,” she said quietly. Her slightly brightened mood dimming out again fast.

“You alright?” he asked again, sounding concerned. Y/N didn’t know, but Richie very much loved the girl, and wouldn’t be able to handle if anything happened to her, which is why he freaked out on the other Losers when her arm was almost slashed off.

“Yeah, Richie, I just told you that it’s okay-”

“I’m not talking about your arm, dumbass,” Richie cut her off mid-sentence. “I meant after what happened, Y/N, you looked like you were about to shit yourself and you suddenly became mute. I know you, Y/N L/N, and you’re an obnoxious loud little bitch all the time. You fucking scared me.” Richie started to ramble, not knowing why he was suddenly spilling everything to her but knowing she probably needed the comfort anyways. After waiting for a response and not getting one, he spoke again.

“Alright, get off your ass and out the door, L/N. We’re going rollerskating! And yes you have to because I know it’s your favourite!” And before she could complain, he hung up. Y/N let out a loud groan before getting dressed and ready.

Half an hour later, Y/N finally pulled up to the rollerskating rink. Bright pink and green neon lights flashing the words right in front of her. She locked her bike and helmet to a nearby pole before walking in. She had tried to cover up the bags under her eyes with her mother’s makeup, and the stress pimple that formed on her relatively clear face, but neither seemed to be successful. She walked through the building, to the attached small diner on the side of the rink, where she found Richie sitting in their usual booth, slurping aggressively at a chocolate milkshake. Another Y/F/F milkshake stood in front of him, waiting for you. You smiled while you plopped down on the bench across from him and pulled the sweet beverage closer to you, already starting to feel better.

“Hey there, hot stuff,” he said, slicking his hair back and nodding at you. You rolled your eyes, trying not to let your small smile peek through.

“Don’t ruin this for me, Rich,” she warned him, quickly taking another sip of her milkshake before standing up with him and going to the desk to rent a pair of roller skates. Richie followed her, shrugging at her warning. They put on their wheeled shoes and got on the track and started skating around the brightly lit room.

Y/N had always loved rollerskating, she loved to overly loud music playing, the dark room lit up with patterns made up of neon lights on the walls, the oddly delicious milkshakes they made here. She came here almost every day, so it was safe to say that she was quite comfortable when she got on the rink. Richie watched as she gracefully placed one foot in front of the other, gliding against the sleek wood floor, as if it was easier than walking.

Richie definitely couldn’t relate to that sense of easiness when it came to this particular activity. Richie struggled before his wheeled skates even touched on the slippery floors. He must’ve fallen on his face at least 5 times before he joined Y/N on the track. And after that, well it was a bit of a shit show, for Richie at least. To say he was completely flustered would be completely true. Richie thanked god that the room was so dark so that Y/N couldn’t see his terribly red face, even though the darkness was also a factor to him tripping every two seconds.

“You alright, Rich?” He heard Y/N question, after Richie fell again, his face making a loud slapping sound against the wood. Y/N skated to him quickly, bending down and trying to help him on his knees. She gasped when he lifted up his face, revealing a slightly crooked nose and blood, lots of blood. Y/N had to really calm herself down, as the sight of the dark red liquid made her feel like crying, starting to bring up horrible memories.

“Yeah, yup, I’m all good,” Richie says, grasping at his nose. He and Y/N quickly get off the rink, Y/N making sure to hold his arm so he doesn’t trip again.`Y/N unties his laces, not really bothering to do hers in the process, as Richie stuffs his face with tissues to attempt to stop the bleeding. After taking them off, they rush quickly to the bathroom. Y/N immediately sat him on a toilet and got a wet paper towel to put on the back of his neck, as well as an abundance of toilet paper to help stop the bleeding from the source.

“Y/N, I appreciate this and all but… you know this is the boy’s washroom?” Richie ass, as she rushes around the small disgusting bathroom, trying to find more ways to help.

“You know I don’t really give a shit?” She quickly replied, finally walking over to him and kneeling down next to him, holding the paper towels in place as he tries to control stream. “It doesn’t look good, Richie. We should take you to a doctor-”

“No no no no no, I’m feeling better already!” Richie exclaims, attempting to get up, only to be pushed back down by the girl, giving him a stern look. She continued to tend to him, but taking a step back and looking at him. Richie smirked, pushing up his glasses.

“Whatcha lookin at, sweetcheeks?” He asked, wriggling his eyebrows. Y/N scoffed, rolling her eyes before going back to help stop the blood.

“The giant fucking mess on your face,” Y/N replied sarcastically, referring to his out of place nose, which she grabbed and snapped back into place, causing Richie to let out a loud groan of discomfort. He grabbed his nose, as Y/N cleaned up the rest of the blood before standing up to wash her hands. Richie stood up after her, going to the bathroom mirror to check out what happened.

“Hey, look! Good as new!” He says happily. Y/N smiled, her teeth peeking past her lips. She shrugged.

“All in a days work,” she joked, taking Richie’s face in her hands, examining the wound. Richie’s face fell and his cheeks went red again. “You should still get that checked out though.” She pulled away, not removing her hands from their position, and looked at the flustered boy.

“O-okay, t-thanks,” he managed to get out, the words falling quickly from his lips. Y/N smiled, she went up on her toes and pressed a lingering kiss to Richie’s lips, her hands winding around to the back of his neck. Richie tried to kiss back, but the kiss ended as quickly as it began.

“Thanks, Richie,” she said, a smile on her lips. “Today was actually a lot more fun than I thought it would’ve been.” Richie smiled nervously at the girl, not knowing how to reply. This was literally his dream coming true. Her hands slipped from his neck back to her sides as she went up and pressed another kiss to his cherry red cheek. “I can’t wait for our second date,” she whispered in his ear, before slipping past a man trying to get into the washroom, giving her a weird look in the process. Richie couldn’t help but stand there starstruck for a few seconds, before a giant shit-eating grin came upon his face as he ran all the way home, shouting and pumping his fist in the air.

“Stan the Man!! You wouldn’t believe what happened today!”

“You’re right, Rich, I probably won’t.”

#richie tozier #richie tozier x reader #richie tozier imagine #finn wolfhard x reader #it #it (2017)#requests open

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exeggcute · 5 years

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everyone’s losing their minds over the movie adaptation of broadway’s classic musical cats, and believe me when I say that I am right here with you (both in that this movie is a horrific disgrace and that cats is not a particularly good musical to begin with), but I also feel like people don’t realize that cats is pretty tame by andrew lloyd weber’s standards. yes, this is a show loosely based on a set of t.s. eliot poems about anthropomorphic cats who form a mystical death cult, but this still pales in comparison to:

evita, a musical about (the extremely controversial, to put it lightly) argentine president juan peron’s wife, eva peron, a role popularized by the incomparable patti lupone

jesus christ superstar, a dramatic musical retelling of judas’s betrayal of jesus (and jesus’s subsequent crucifixion), which initially began as a rock opera concept album before being adapted for theater, and features a full orchestra, rock band, and gospel choir

phantom of the opera, which everyone fucking knows at this point, but is also the longest-running broadway show of all time and goes completely all-out in terms of theatricality. the famous chandelier drop was even adapted for the touring show and featured a giant chandelier that appeared to drop over the audience and shatter into a million pieces of priceless crystal

starlight express, a musical sort-of-not-really based on thomas the fucking tank engine, which is about singing anthropomorphic trains who race each other to impress (sexy) lady trains. the whole show takes place on this elaborate set with tracks that circle the audience and all of the actors are on rollerskates as they perform, meaning that they zoom around the theater as they sing and also sometimes completely fall and eat shit.

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qqueenofhades · 3 years

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Nina pulling that reverse uno card on Mr garbageman while he was threatening her had me wheezing so hard I nearly passed out. he is so gloriously dumb and I live for it. like, oops, not gonna throw ya in prison anymore, you indirectly saved the love of my life. however you are NOT invited to the wedding which is definitely still happening ten years from now after she unblocks me and starts answering my calls again ☠️ also wanna say ur writing is a gift and your inej pov was so good!! thank u for sharing this fic it makes me so happy even when there's pain.

I'm sorry but that may hands down be one of the funniest scenes in the whole fic. Not of course because it is intended to be, or because the situation is funny, or either Nina or Aleksander think it's funny, but for us as readers??? VERY POSSIBLY SO.

I mean. Aleksander is seriously competent and scary at this point. He has threatened the Crows, nearly killed Kaz and sent him on the run (of course he did fail at that for a dumb reason, because he got whacked upside the moronic beautiful head with Kaz’s cane, but details), attacked the Crow Club, taken the Crows as hostage, marched around Amsterdam with his retinue of scary GRU assassins, captured Nina, and has her pretty much totally at his mercy. He has even managed to give her his Villainous Monologue and delve into his passion about the True Meaning of Christmas Machiavelli. HE HAS ALL THE CARDS! ALL OF THEM!!!

And then. Oh no. The word "Alina" comes out of Nina’s mouth. ALEKSANDER.EXE HAS STOPPED WORKING DUE TO AN OVERLOAD OF GARBAGE IN THE COMPACTOR. You can literally SEE the steam pouring out of his ears as everything backfires. Because oh no, Nina might know Alina. NINA DO YOU KNOW ALINA AND CAN YOU CONVINCE HER TO UNBLOCK ME?? Ah SHIT this dangerous threat to the Russian state has an ex who saved Alina's life you say? Mother fucking shit brick crap on a rollerskating Jesus Christ bongo board, DO I HAVE TO LET NINA GO BECAUSE OF THIS???

And then he just. Does that. From completely in command of absolutely everything to smoking pile of trash scented rubble in 0.5 seconds. HOW DID THEY EVEN GIVE YOU A JOB, ALEKSANDER. YOU ARE ACTUALLY THE WORST.

Aleksander in the background: ...maybe she will call up Alina and tell her that I still love her?

Nina: nope. Will not be doing that. No. Goodbye.

Aleksander:

#anonymous #ask #pel asks #god emperor of garbage universe #truly breathtaking

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chibisquirt · 5 years

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How I Realized I Was Aro

I saw this reply on @whenas-in-silks‘s post about being aro, and @theolegriz I hope you don’t mind, but I wanted to make a new one because my answer was pretty complicated.

And then here is what was at that link.

So the wiki page is right: it’s hard to talk about. Personally, I find sex a little bit easier to talk about-- plus I know, like, a ton of demi and ace people, including both of my sisters-- so for me, the way forward came through hearing the way ace people talked about sex, and making the analogy to how I felt about romance.

(There is supposed to be a read-more here! Since Tumblr is the devil, there may not be, but there is supposed to be one!)

Some ace people talk about sex repulsion, feeling uncomfortable or grossed out by sex. Do I feel that way about romantic gestures? YES, actually, I do!! Huh, imagine that!

Some ace people find the cultural obsession with sex baffling. Do I find the cultural obsession with love baffling? Yes! Romeo and Juliet-- Romeo is exasperating. Jesus christ, did that man hang his brains from a rafter or something? Love at first sight-- what the fuck is that shit? But when you find yourself constantly wondering why everybody is losing their minds over something that you’ve always been perfectly rational through, you have to wonder if maybe you’re just not feeling it the same way...

The one romantic relationship that made sense to me was always friends-to-lovers. Alanna the Lioness and George Cooper were my gateway drug there, followed swiftly by Quinn and Nick from Crazy For You. Oddly enough, though, friends-to-lovers bears a lot in common with the queerplatonic relationship we’re all saying we want so much! Omg that’s so weird!!!

(By the way, queerplatonic relationships don’t have to be sexless! The name had me fooled, but then I actually looked up the definition and woah, that’s exactly what I want!!!)

Autochorisexual aces (including some of my favorite authors!) are happy to have personal sexual fantasies/masturbation, but are turned off/alienated when it comes to live, in-person sex. Do I, like them, read fiction that contains fantasies of the very things I claim to dislike? Yep, sure do! But that doesn’t mean I want it to actually happen, in person. That’s a, uh, nope, nope, no, no thank you, moving right along.

(A possibly flawed analogy: a/b/o : aces :: soulmate aus : aros???)

And, last but not least... Like non-binary and trans folks, aces and aros should be aware that asking the question is itself partially diagnostic. I mean, it’s not a golden bullet or anything-- silver bullet? Silver bullet. Or golden ticket. Whatever. So it’s not that, but... if you’re wondering if there’s something different about you, that’s a good sign that yes, there is something different about you! Now you just get the joy and exploration of figuring out what that is!

Being Aro is opt-in. No one gets to come along and tell you that’s what you are. Also, if you think you might be, and you say you are, and then later realize you’re not, then okay, you’re not. The only people who will come after you for that are assholes, and you should flip them off while rollerskating out of their lives anyway.

#aromantic #aroace #aro #personal #okay to reblog

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arkhamcitysirens · 6 years

Note

Since you ran that poll can you rate harley's outfits on personal preference?

why yes anon, i would love to!

1. assault on arkham

this outfit is PERFECT. i really wish it was more popular because there is nothing quite as incredible as this updated jester costume… it’s an amazing reinvention of the classic look and i LIVE for it!!! (also i might be cosplaying this soon??? either this or possibly the actual classic jester, i bought the pattern today!)

2. classic jester

all i can say is that this outfit is harley quinn. and also it looks amazing without the cowl too. and the shiny latex variant in arkham knight made me ten times gayer.

3. batman telltale

this is a really weird take on harley but FUCK the boots and the corset and the hair??? never before have i so desperately wanted to have my head bashed in by this woman

4. arkham knight

bitch!!! the tutu!!! the dip dyed pigtails!!! the baseball bat!!! harley looks like a kinky ballerina i’m down for it,,, too bad i can’t pull it off because my cosplay of this outfit was a Mess but i guess that just proves how incredible the outfit is

5. arkham asylum

controversial outfit but idc!!! i like the colours and there’s something especially wild about arleen sorkin’s cute voice coming out of this girl in pigtails and a sexy nurse costume idk. plus the BOOTS jesus fucking christ

6. roller derby new 52 solo series

this was my first harley cosplay so i’m biased but it’s cute, it’s fairly comfortable, and the half-red half-black hair is killer please rollerskate over me babe

7. suicide squad comics new 52

oh boyyy this needs some justification... i know it’s a total departure from previous harley stuff! i know it’s skimpy af! but when it’s drawn to be actually fitting so that her boobs aren’t falling out, this outfit is my EVERYTHING. look at the rock candy statues of this costume and you’ll see what i mean- i especially love the pink and white variant! although it would basically be completely useless in reality- imagine fighting to the death in that bitch of a corset

8. dc bombshells

cute, fun, i love the orange tips to harley’s hair, i just don’t think running around in a bra in the 1940s would be very safe, acceptable or comfortable considering she’s fighting the nazis in this universe and overall something just feels a little off

9. injustice 2

this outfit is GOOD. i like the hair and the make-up. i just don’t think it’s extra enough for harley, i could wear that anywhere and look fairly normal i think… not recognizable enough for a superhero/supervillain/generally extreme character

10. lego batman movie

harley’s anime-style hair in this is GORGEOUS and i love the smylex shirt! but overall the outfit has a LOT going on… almost too much… there’s a looooot to take in it can be quite overwhelming imo

11. dc superhero girls

i can’t say anything bad about this outfit for its purpose? it’s totally realistic for harley’s skillset, the hair is cute, and it’s a great design for a show aimed at young kids, i just find it kinda boring ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

12. suicide squad movie

i used to like this outfit a lot more, i’m not really sure why but its appeal has worn off. i appreciate the bright colors and the shiny jacket is brilliant + the hair too… i just wish harley’s body wasn’t covered in various ways to say she belongs to the joker

13. arkham city

no reasoning for me not really liking this outfit. it just doesn’t strike me as harley and i’m not sure why. however i do like the version of this outfit featured in injustice a lot, i think it’s because the colors are so much brighter

14. injustice insurgency

there’s a lot going on with this one and although i quite like most of the costume, the fucking pigtail gun holster things are just too much for me i can’t handle it

15. gods and monsters

this is commonly regarded as The Worst Harley Outfit, usually alongside the suicide squad comics outfit, but i don’t hate it, i just think stripping her down to her underwear is decidedly unsexy

16. injustice: gods among us

FUCK THAT GREEN HAIR. WHAT THE FUCK. WHY ARE HER TITTIES OUT. HER HAIR IS GREEN. HOW IS SHE GONNA FIGHT IN THIS LITERAL MORTAL KOMBAT RIP-OFF WITH NOWHERE TO KEEP HER WEAPONS. WHY WOULD YOU MAKE HER HAIR GREEN. SHE HAS NO PANTS ON. GREEN HAIR WHAT THE FUCK!

#Anonymous #anon #answered #as you can see my opinions on harley's costumes change constantly #i think i ranked arkham knight first last time and the suicide squad comics at the bottom #i'm indecisive! i can't help it! it's part of my charm!#harley quinn

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ofmistyeyes-blog · 6 years

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throughout the mist jay heisel ( a seventeen year old boy, need i remind.):

-gets (falsely) accused of sexual assault.

-is placed IMMEDIATELY in a position of power in times of crisis by being one of the decision heads along with gus and kyle.

-gets to fly a drone! because he knows how to it’s the only decent thing that happens to him in any early episode

-is the person who finds the dead bodies of two soldiers in the dead of the night, by himself, in the dark.

-is the person who CUTS DOWN these bodies instead of any of the numerous adults that are in the mall!!

-plays a role in the brute squad as well, he’s usually partaking in the calming down of people who need to be restrained or held back.

-tries to plead his case to the girl he likes who accused him of assault, literally trying his hardest to get her to forgive him.

-exhibits the strength to hold back two adult nerd men :/

-gets a GUN pointed at his head for asking alex to tell her mom that he didn’t hurt her!!! she threatens him with the gun the whole series hes only seventeen calm ur fucking self PLUS in this scene she says ‘i always was an anarchist’ like CLEARLY implying she’d fucking do it !!!

-at this point feels obligated to help as much as possible like he’s also part of the whole helping gang whenever sb has a panic attack to make sure they don’t run out into the mist

-smiles for the first time since the mist came to the mall the mall when he’s given a fucking FOOTBALL that’s how happy he is he FINALLY gets to be a fucking KID again!!! jeez

grown ass woman literally says to him ‘hey if i’m looking to get date-raped i’ll invite you into the conversation.’ like dont be such a fucking bitch!!! jesus christ he literally said ONE OFFHAND THING

-the FIRST person to run to help at the bookstore (which was a BULLSHIT scene i fucking HATE it)

-the same grown ass woman from the first time is back again and he says ‘maybe we should wait ‘til the police get here’ and she NO JOKE says to him ‘you wanna wait for your dad? well tell me what would he do if he were here? because the officer heisel i know isn’t a pussy like you.’ THATS BECAUSE HE’S A FUCKING CHILD, COURTNEY!!!!!! AND HIS DAD IS A GROWN UP ***CHIEF POLICE SHERIFF!!!!!***

-breaks down a locked door, runs through fire, then grabs a fire extinguisher that BURNS THE FUCK out of his hand to save himself and alex.

-god okay i hate everything abt the next mall scenes okay first he gets blamed for locking the door AND setting the fire to kill alex FIRST by alex ‘did you do it so you could play hero?’ and he has to convince her that he DIDN’T!!

-AND THEN he’s finally got everything calmed down, he’s walking with alex, he’s finally gonna feel safe bc he’s allowed to stay in the other place with alex’s crew, and alex’s mom SEES him, and PUNCHES him in the face without a fucking WORD!!!! this grown ass woman!!! then alex’s mom BLAMES HIM for starting the fire !!! she doesn’t give a fuck about this boy and she hasn’t seen what he’s had to go through but he is tired enough of this woman to say to her face ‘and i just don’t believe you’re gonna shoot me over where i crash.’ HELL YEAH BABY

-alex’s mom then threatens to shoot him again but lets him stay. we’re fine!!! stop threatening jay

-then. THEN!!! alex’s mom is clearly sick of him she hates it when they even smile at each other and literally always talks about how she wants to shoot jay like she sits down and her friend goes ‘there was no touching’ and she goes ‘shame, i wanted to shoot him.’ who says that about a fucking seventeen year old!!

-he finally gets to have a little fun with alex they go rollerskating and then they kiss he’s so happy and then they come back and he’s asked to help with water and always eager to please he’s like ‘sure thing.’ and guess the FUCK what!

-alex’s mom LOCKS him into a room with NO windows down a long ass hallway, basically imprisons him all bc alex and him were happy together no offense but she’s such a cruel bitch she didn’t even try to talk to him!!!

-she visits him like a few hours later and he is EXHAUSTED he literally asks her ‘why not just let me die?’ when she throws this crummy bag at him that has HALF an energy bar and some water like,,, btich

-he tells her that his dad thinks that he’s guilty of a crime he didn’t commit too and she literally says to him ‘if you’re looking for pity look elsewhere’ you are the only person he has talked to in HOURS he’s gone from being surrounded by people to being completely alone in a dark room exhausted and tired and upset let him overshare you insufferable BITCH

- when he’s finally seen again he’s KEPT in there with alex and her mom and adrian and they’re all together and he’s so HAPPY to see alex again but adrian and alex’s mom hate him so he’s very,,, uhhh,,

-gets BEATEN with a paint can by adrian like hes gone through ENOUGH!!! they just LEAVE him on the ground too like jesus christ kid prob has a broken shoulder

-HIS DAD IS HERE! he’s so happy to see him he starts turning around on the floor despite having a probably broken shoulder blade and his dad helps him up and he is so obviously in pain his shirt is DRENCHED in sweat and everyone just watched him fucking LIE there im in bits.

-the infamous scene where his dad sends him out to the mist to die (’: he doesn’t die he survives bc he’s a good boy

-then he dies saving alex from the mist vortex that nearly killed her despite having EVERY reason not to do it he did it because he clearly cared sm and he wanted to save her!!!! god he’s so unequivocally good

#i love jay you heard it here first #✘ ⠇ NONEXISTENT IMPULSE CONTROL! ( OOC. )

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squidbatts · 7 years

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whoa now (think i'm going down)

Melchior may not know how to rollerskate but he sure knows how to pine.

Or: the rollerskating diner au that no one asked for but I wrote anyway

{some happy melchiotto for all your happy melchiotto needs. inspired by this, dedicated to: the twitter kids, that anon who asked me to write more melchiotto on the sa_confess tumblr, and every single person that’s ever complained about melchiotto ever}

ao3

“Melchior, honey, can you come down for a minute?”

Melchior, who had been on the phone with Moritz, stops mid-sentence at his stepmother’s voice.

“I gotta go,” He says to Moritz, before moving the phone away and yelling back, “Coming!”

When he stomps his way down the stairs and into the living room, he’s faced with his mothers sitting on the couch together and smiling just a bit too nicely. Melchior pushes down the sudden urge to run.

“Mom, mama?”

His stepmother, Magdalena Robel, points at the chair across from them. Melchior warily sits down.

“Melchior,” His mother, Fanny Gabor, starts, “We’re concerned.”

“Concerned,” He repeats flatly, raising an eyebrow.

Fanny and Magdalena share a look. Magdalena takes a breath. “Concerned is a… strong word, but we’re a bit worried about your summer plans.”

“What summer plans?” Melchior asks, because the only summer plans he’d had were sleeping a ton, hanging out with Moritz, and maybe going over to the Rilow’s to use their pool every now and then.

“Exactly, dear,” Fanny says, “We just think your time could be better used. Ernst is going to help out at that summer camp-”

Melchior rolls his eyes. “I applied there, mom, you know that.”

“We also know that you didn’t do your best on that application,” Fanny says.

When Melchior looks at them, betrayed, Magdalena adds, “Ernst sold you out.”

Goddamn it Ernst, Melchior thinks, then he says, “So what do you want me to do?”

Magdalena and Fanny exchange another look, this one longer and with several dramatic eyebrow movements.

“Well,” Fanny says, “We could always use more help in the diner.”

‘The diner’ is called The Place, and it’s a 60’s-esque diner that Magdalena inherited when her husband died. It was a wreck by the time he died so she had sold it to Fanny as soon as possible for a ridiculously low price, but Fanny had fixed it and opened it up, turning it into a successful rollerskating diner against all odds. Magdalena tells Ernst and Melchior (and, honestly, anyone she can get to listen) that Fanny’s determination and business savvy are what wooed her; Fanny tells everyone that Magdalena’s faith in Fanny and genuine happiness and excitement about the diner are what made her fall in love; regardless, the diner has played a pretty big role in Melchior’s life for as long as he can remember--playing with his cars in one of the booths, doing his homework in the kitchen, helping his mothers wash dishes and clean tables after hours--so being asked to help isn’t too out there. What is out there is them asking him to wait tables.

“You’ve seen me on skates, right?” Melchior had asked when his mothers had revealed their plan.

Fanny had sighed and Magdalena had clicked her tongue and said, “That was years ago. You’re much less clumsy now, I’m sure you’ll be fine.”

Now, morning of his first day, Melchior isn’t so sure. He’s never been good with spinning wheels under his feet and he doesn’t think a couple of years will have fixed it.

“Come on, Gabor, we don’t have all day,” Hanschen, Fanny’s favorite employee who’s been forced into this ‘new employee training’, snaps, gliding over and stopping sharply right in front of Melchior.

Melchior, though he would never say it, is impressed. Still, “I’m not going to be able to do this.”

Hanschen rolls his eyes. “Okay.”

“No seriously.”

“Sure.”

Melchior opens his mouth and closes it again. He shakes his head. He leans down and laces up his rollerskates.

“Now stand up,” Hanschen orders. Melchior complies.

Or, he tries to comply, but his legs go in two different directions and he ends up falling back into the booth, a hand clutched to the tabletop.

“I can’t do this,” He says.

Hanschen sighs as though Melchior is being ridiculous and needlessly difficult. He leans one of his skates forward to plant it on the stopper and reaches a hand out. “Take my hand. I’ll help you up, if I must. It takes a while to get used to standing up with the skates on.”

Melchior squints up at Hanschen. “Are you going to drop me?”

“I’m not going to drop you.” “But what if you do?”

“I won’t.”

“But-”

“Melchior Gabor, I swear to god,” Hanschen snaps, “Take my hand and stand the fuck up, you are going to skate.”

Melchior takes Hanschen’s hand. Hanschen pulls him up and Melchior flails for a second, grabbing onto Hanschen’s biceps to steady himself, before getting his balance. Hanschen, who looks disgusted at being clutched at by Melchior, sighs.

“Let go.”

“I can’t,” Melchior says, his hands tightening. Hanschen yelps, probably because Melchior’s nails are obnoxiously long, but he doesn’t let go. “I’ll work here, in the kitchen or something, but I can’t use these, these deathskates.”

“Deathskates,” Hanschen snorts and rolls his eyes, “Whatever, I’ll tell Mrs. Gabor. Sit down and get those things off.”

Melchior lets go of Hanschen, collapsing back into the booth and untying the rollerskates as fast as humanly possible. It would take a lot to get him to put those on again.

“Oh my god, who is that?” Melchior asks as the prettiest boy ever walks into the diner. He’s working behind the counter, where he’s been banished--since it’s the only serving job that doesn’t require rollerskates, although Melchior doesn’t know why his mother can’t just let him wait tables and not wear the skates--but it’s slow and he’d been texting Moritz and playing hangman with Hanschen between customers. Now, though, he nearly leans over the counter so that he can get a better view of the cute boy.

Hanschen turns around and looks at the door, furrowing his brows. “Ernst? Your stepbrother? What are you-”

“No! Jesus, I know Ernst, obviously,” Melchior shoves Hanschen as well as he can with the counter between them. It really does anything, but it’s the principle of the action. “The boy with Ernst. Who’s he?”

“Oh, you mean Otto Lammermeier,” Hanschen says, rolling his eyes, “He’s working at the camp with Ernst.”

For a moment, Melchior regrets not helping out. The boy is attractive, with smooth olive skin and almond-shaped eyes, and Melchior can’t stop staring. He sighs dreamily, “Otto.”

“Oh, jesus christ. I’m not doing this, I have work to do,” Hanschen groans under his breath as he skates away to deal with his tables. Melchior lets him go, too busy watching as Ernst and Otto try to choose a table.

“Ernst! Ernst, over here!” Melchior whisper-shouts, waving his arms are inconspicuously as possible. Ernst smiles at him and starts over towards the counter, saying something to Otto and gesturing to Melchior. Otto nods and glances over, meeting eyes with Melchior.

Melchior takes a sharp breath, looking into Otto’s dark eyes. Melchior, still mostly shocked and flustered by the eye contact, raises a hand to wave. Otto smiles softly and waves back.

Oh my god, that was adorable, Melchior thinks, and he’s is too busy trying to make sure he looks as attractive he can in a pale pink dress shirt and a powder blue apron to notice Hanschen skating over to Ernst until it’s too late. Hanschen doesn’t do anything but smile and gently gesture to his section and Ernst is honest to god tripping over himself to go sit in the booths.

He seduced him away, what a dick, Melchior thinks. Hanschen turns around and smirks at him before skating away, backwards like the show off that he is. Melchior flips him off.

When Hanschen skates by Melchior to put the order in, he says, “Wow, Otto is such a nice boy. What a shame that you’re stuck here, behind the counter, unable to talk to him. If only you could rollerskate...”

“You’re an asshole,” Melchior says, scowling.

Hanschen laughs as he picks up the drink tray, nearly spinning his way back to Ernst and Otto. Melchior sighs. Hanschen is an asshole, undoubtedly, but he does have a point; if Melchior could rollerskate, this would all be solved.

Melchior nods to himself and pulls out his phone. He has a few texts to send.

It’s ten o’clock at night and Melchior is in a skatepark.

“It was really nice of you to agree to do this, Thea,” Moritz says.

Thea glares at Melchior and sneers; despite the fact that they’re only related through adoption, Melchior would swear that he can see a family resemblance between her and Hanschen in that moment. “I’m not doing this out of the kindness of my heart, Stiefel, Gabor’s going to owe me.”

“What?” Melchior says, pausing in pulling his skates on, “What am I going to owe you? And why?”

“Ilse is out for your blood, you asshole,” Thea says, “If she knew that I was doing this, she’d kill me.”

Moritz turns to look at Melchior with wide eyes, upset eyes. “What did you do to Ilse?”

“Nothing!” Melchior says, defensively. He’s still on the ground even though his skates are laced, so it’s easy for Moritz and Thea to stare him down.

“Are you sure?” Moritz asks.

Melchior makes a show out of rolling his eyes at the question, but then he thinks for a moment. Oh. “Okay, nothing to her.”

“Melchi,” Moritz sighs, exasperated. Melchior shrugs helplessly.

“Whatever! It happened like a month ago, and if Ilse is just now hearing about it than that’s her fault,” Melchior says resolutely, rubbing his nose and remembering the beating Wendla had given him at the time. “Wendla already served out punishment, Ilse needs to chill.”

“You’ve met Ilse, right?” Thea says with a mocking laugh, sharp and cruel, “Since when has Ilse ever been chill?”

Moritz runs a hand through his hair, only succeeding in covering his hand with gel and messing up his artfully messy look. He wipes his hand on his jeans. “I’ll talk to Ilse. You’ll still teach him, right?”

Thea rolls her eyes and shrugs. “Yeah, might as well. A favor from Gabor could be useful.”

“Thank yo-”

“But he better be a quick learner, because I’m not devoting more than two hours a night to him and he only has, what, a week to learn?”

Melchior sighs dejectedly. “Yeah, a week. Ernst said that he’d bring Otto back around next weekend, so.”

Thea looks at Melchior, sitting nervously on the asphalt. She huffs and puts out her hand. “Come on. I won’t be able to make you into a roller derby star or anything, but you should be able to serve tables.”

Melchior steels himself and takes her hand.

Melchior shakily skates through the diner, mostly handing out menus and occasionally carrying single cups back up to the counter for refills. Sometimes Hanschen will skate literal circles around him when he’s moving around the diner, which the patrons apparently find adorable and hilarious in equal measure, but even Hanschen’s teasing is tempered with some kindness and admiration in Melchior’s quick adjustment.

“Are you even sure that he’s going to come in today, loverboy?” Hanschen asks. He’s (correctly) assumed that the reason that Melchior’s made today his first day is because he’s expecting Otto.

“Ernst said they would.”

“But what is Otto wants to go somewhere else?”

“He wouldn’t,” Melchior starts, then, he stops. It’s completely logical, they came here last week under Ernst’s instruction, Otto could want to go somewhere different now. “I have to check my phone.”

Hanschen’s laughter follows him to the kitchen as he pulls out his phone. where r u?????? He texts Ernst. Ernst responds after a second, I was just about to text you, we’re outside.

Melchior does not scream or jump for joy, but that’s mostly only because he’s working and in rollerskates. He does however skate back out, smoothing down his uniform and trying to act casual.

Ernst comes in, chattering to someone behind him and oh god, he’s brought more people. Ernst leads his friends, Otto among them, to a booth. Otto and Ernst end up sitting on the two ends. Melchior takes a deep breath, C’mon, you can do this, you can face Ernst, a few of his friends, and a cute boy. You can rollerskate. He grabs some menus and skates over wobbily, managing to stop without running into the table. He hands the menus out and gives his most charming smile.

“Hi, I’m Melchior and I’ll be your server today,” He says. Ernst gapes.

“You’re serving?” He asks, “I thought you worked the counter, isn’t Hanschen working today?”

Melchior scowls, “Yes but-”

“I’m playing babysitter today,” Hanschen says, skating by smoothly with a tray of food in one hand. He pauses to squeeze Melchior’s cheek. “Baby’s first day serving and all that.”

Ernst and friends laugh, but Melchior is too busy scowling at Hanschen to really notice.

“Anyway, I’ll just leave you with the menus, I’ll be out to get your drink orders in a bit,” Melchior says, louder than strictly necessary after Hanschen leaves. He smiles again, looking over the table and catching Otto’s eye. Otto is just as attractive as Melchior remembers, maybe even moreso, and he’s smiling back dazzlingly. Melchior is sure that his heart skips a beat when they lock eyes. “Um, yeah. Bye.”

He skates back to the kitchen as quickly as possible and scrubs a hand down his face. Okay, so he’s mildly embarrassed himself. Whatever. This is fine. Nice try, not that convincing though, He thinks to himself, groaning quietly. He pulls out his phone. who r those ppl w u, he texts Ernst. It takes a second but Ernst replies Anna, Georg, Martha. They heard that we were going out and wanted to come and Otto said they could, and Sorry!!!, and finally, I didn’t know you’d be serving us??? I thought you were just going to just flirt with Otto from the counter. Melchior runs a hand over his face. He takes a deep breath. He skates back out. Just as he’s reached the table, before he can even speak, he turns his left foot the wrong way and falls.

Oh, christ, this is how I die, He thinks. He twists his body midair so that he can fall on his ass instead of flat on his face. He squeezes his eyes shut. However, instead of hitting the ground, he feels himself land on something much softer, with an arm around his back. He opens his eyes and flushes immediately.

“Hi,” He says, staring into Otto’s eyes and having fallen into Otto’s lap.

“Hi?” Otto half-replies, half-asks, bewildered.

It definitely takes Melchior a second too long to get up, but the feel of Otto’s strong arm holding him up was just amazing.

“Uh,” He starts when he stands, stuttering and embarrassed, avoiding Otto’s eyes. “So, what do you all want to drink?”

Melchior stuffs a hand into his mouth to muffle the screaming that he wants to do. He takes a deep breath. He starts retrieving the drinks.

“Everything is fine, you can come back from this,” He repeats to himself under his breath, hoping that if he says it enough it will be true. While he's doing this, Hanschen slides into the kitchen with a tray of empty plates. He takes one look at Melchior and starts cackling. Melchior squeezes his eyes shut and groans “You fell into his lap,” Hanschen manages to gasp out, “This is the best thing I've ever witnessed, ever.”

“I can't go back out there,” Melchior says.

Hanschen wipes laugh tears from his eyes, “You have to.”

“The only thing I have to do is curl up and die.”

“No, seriously,” Hanschen sobers up, “He didn't look upset about it. Shocked and confused, but also a bit charmed.”

“Really?”

Hanschen huffs and rolls his eyes. “Why would I lie about that?”

Melchior nods, more to himself than anything else, and heads out with the drink tray held on both hands.

I can do this, he thinks. Then he tries to turn around the counter too sharply, catches his hip and gets himself off balance. He doesn't fall, but he does flail a bit and the drink tray falls from his grasp with several, clattering, wet crashes. Melchior freezes, his face flushing in embarrassment as everyone's attention is drawn to him. He sees Otto, a hand over his mouth, his eyes squeezed shut, and his shoulders shaking with suppressed laughter. Melchior flushes even more and runs back to the relative safety of the kitchen.

operation hot waiter failed, im changing my name and moving to germany, Melchior texts to Moritz. Moritz responds with Hush, Ernst's livetweeting the whole thing and it's not that bad. Melchior begins to send another text about how it is, in fact, exactly as bad as Melchior thinks it is, and quite possibly worse if Ernst is sharing his humiliation with the internet, but Hanschen snatches away his phone. He's holding another drink tray, which he offer to Melchior.

“Come on.”

“I can't,” Melchior says, “I’m going to go live in the basement, never to be seen again.”

“You don't even have a basement,” Hanschen huffs.

Melchior shrugs.

Hanschen takes a deep breath, balances the tray atop of his right hand, and grabs Melchior’s shoulder with the other. Melchior tries to resist, but the roller skates make it difficult to get enough friction.

“If you make me spill these drinks, they're going all over you,” Hanschen warns. Melchior, deciding that he's had enough humiliation for one day, stops struggling.

Hanschen pulls him all the way to the table and gently sets down the drink tray, still holding onto Melchior's collar like a disgruntled mother cat. The chatter at the table had stopped upon their approach. One of the girls rolls her eyes and elbows Otto in a way that Melchior thinks is supposed to be subtle.

“Sorry about him,” Hanschen says, his beaf customer service smile on, “He gets flustered when he's around such attractive people.”

“Hanschen,” Melchior hisses, eyes bulged and mouth slack with shock. It was said as though it was a casual flirtation, but there's no way that it's not obvious who Melchior is “flustered” by. Hanschen, the asshole, ignores Melchior.

“He'll be taking your order,” Hanschen continues, “And while I can't promise anything, I'm sure he'll do his best to not spill anything else.”

Hanschen skates away to his other tables with a lazy wave, leaving Melchior on his own to deal with them.

“So, uh,” Melchior says, pulling out his notepad and holding onto it like a lifeline. One of Ernst’s friends, the boy with the glasses, is snickering into his water. Ernst has his phone out, clearly and unabashedly livetweeting Melchior’s distress. Otto is staring resolutely at his plate, his ears flushed. “What can I get you to eat?”

Melchior takes their orders with no other issues, but he can’t stop his eyes from drifting back to Otto. Melchior catches Otto’s eye once by accident and his entire face flames up, as does Otto’s. Melchior would probably feel bad about the embarrassment and possible teasing that he’s causing Otto, if the other boy wasn’t so cute. It happens a few more times--it honestly was bound to happen with how Melchior ended up spending the majority of his time there outright staring at Otto--and by the time he gets back to the kitchen to put in the orders, he’s beyond flustered. He presses a hand to his ribcage and he fancies that he can feel his heart beating wildly against it.

Melchior manages to get everyone's dishes out without much difficulty, against all odds. He isn't exactly the picture of elegance and grace and he has to take multiple trips to carry everything out but it all gets on the table and he doesn't trip and/or die, so he counts it as a success. He surveys his work with pride as Ernst's friends speak quietly and appreciatively about the food.

"Anything else?" He asks, mostly as a formality. Their cups are all full and they have food now, they shouldn't need anything else.

There are several looks exchanged. Otto's ears pinken again. Ernst rolls his eyes dramatically and pulls a pen out of his bag, handing it to one of the girls, a deeply tanned girl with bleach-blonde hair. She takes one of the extra napkins on the table and scribbles something on it, grinning wide enough to split her face, handing the pen and the napkin to the other girl, a tall black girl. The other girl adds to the scribbles before handing everything to glasses boy. Glasses boy squints at the napkin and nods approvingly. He hands the napkin to Otto and the pen back to Ernst. All four of them stare at Otto. Melchior stands awkwardly at the table, still waiting for an answer.

"Uh," He says. Ernst holds up a hand to stop him.

"Patience is a virtue."

Melchior huffs and quietly mutters, "I'm an atheist," but he doesn't try to speak again.

Otto flushes more under the forceful stares of his friends, until he lifts his head and narrows his beautiful eyes at them.

"Seriously?" He says.

Blonde girl nods frantically. "We did all the work for you!"

"Not all the work," The black girl says, coyly. Otto glares at her. Melchior wishes that he wasn't wearing deathskates so that he could tap his foot on the ground.

Glasses boy leans forward so that he can easily see Melchior, some of his hair hanging into his syrupy pancake. "Ernst's brother," He starts.

"Melchior," Melchior corrects. Glasses boy rolls his eyes.

"Yeah, whatever, I don't really care. Listen, point is, I've had to listen to Otto asking Ernst about you all break for the last week, and he's barely been able to get the balls to-" The boy winces, and by the looks on the black girl's face, Melchior would wager that she kicked him, "God, fine, I'm sorry. He's barely been brave enough to talk to you at all, even though we've just about had our ears talked off this whole time."

"I'm- What?" Melchior asks. Otto's head is on the table now, unresponsive and brightly flushed. Melchior honestly isn't doing much better. "Why are you telling me this?"

"Because we just wrote Otto's number down but he's being a baby and won't give it to you.," Blonde girl says, "You're into him too, right? Ernst said you were."

Otto and Melchior's heads both snap to Ernst, who's looking at blonde girl with wide, betrayed eyes. Well, that's relatable, you traitor, Melchior thinks.

"You told them that?" Melchior asks, at the same time that Otto hisses, "Why didn't you tell me."

Melchior blinks. He turns to Otto only to find that Otto's done the same.

"You like me?" Melchior asks.

Otto flushes and puts out a hand, the one with the napkin in it. "My friends may lack finesse and have the subtlety of a herd of rhinos, but I think that I'd be interested in going out with you sometime."

Melchior takes the napkin like it's a delicate artifact, blinking at it in shock. "Uh, I'd like that too. I'll call you?"

"It's 2017, you can text him," The black girl says. Otto frowns at her.

"Ignore her," He says, his face softening as he looks at Melchior. "You can call."

"Okay?" Melchior half-says, half-asks. "I'll be in touch, I guess?"

"You better be," The glasses boy and the blonde girl say in scary unison. Melchior nods sharply.

He stands there for a second more, still shaken up and shocked at this turn of events, before retreating to the kitchen to put Otto's number in his phone.

hi, he messages. His phone pings almost immediately with a responding, hi.

Melchior feels an unstoppable grin spreading across his face. It seems that there are positives to working in the diner after all.

#melchiotto #spring awakening #melchior gabor #otto lammermeier #spring awakening fanfic #one shot #it was honestly So Hard to keep from writing 'yall' like ive become a Different Person from living in the south

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