catherine

Work is very slow please send some!!

lipstickbisous

for me┃c.m.b

this is inspired by that drawing of corbyn as spiderman. i don’t know why, but i’ve recently been obsessed with this idea. also, this a long one.

summary; in which corbyn is the friendly neighborhood superhero (y/n)’s been hearing about, but he after facing a death-threatening situation, he has a decision to make.

warnings? some angst, i guess but the end is sweet

request? nope

tags? @tempus-ut-luceant @keepseaveyweird @splendidseavey @jonahjizzy @poutybrock @ijustreallylovethem @technolilly @annabseavey @joyus-jack @fallingforbesson @boredombesson

you stared down at your phone again, something you’d been doing for the past five hours. you’d been waiting to see if corbyn wanted to text you back or not. neither of you had plans for the night, but it would be nice for your boyfriend to at least let you know he was alive.

it was something he’d been doing a lot more often now. at first, you thought he was just busy with schoolwork. you knew that he easily got stressed, so you backed off to let him figure it out. but he only blew you off and canceled plans more often.

you’d be lying if you said you weren’t suspicious. but what were you suspicious of?

you sighed and closed your eyes, leaning your head back on the headrest of the car seat in the taxi. you opened them again and watched as the buildings and bright lights and other cars passed by so fast that they looked like blurs of color.

you fixated your tired gaze on the small tv that played in the cab. it was a news channel that you knew you wouldn’t be able to stand.

“excuse me,” you politely spoke up from your seat to the driver. “is there a way to change the channel? or turn it off?”

no answer.

you frowned. “excuse me?” you said a bit louder.

no answer.

you sat back in your seat and frowned. it really wasn’t anything to get so mad about, but with the situation you were in and with how upset you were about your boyfriend, you could care less if you came off rude or not.

“now, the man in the red and blue tights - who is he?” the sudden mention of the mysterious figure who was known for saving lives in brooklyn caught your attention. “he goes by ‘spiderman’, perhaps from the webbing that he’s able to shoot from his hands? it doesn’t sound realistic at all, but ladies and gentleman, i present to you, the human spiderman.”

a small clip played on the tv. you had recognized it from youtube. it was him - the man in the red and blue tights, a symbol of a spider embroidered onto the chest of his suit.

he swung from building to building. you took notice of how agile and graceful he was. that’s not possible. you shook your head and rolled your eyes. fake news. bullshit.

you’d been hearing of this spiderman a lot more often, and you thought - you knew - it was nothing more than content people created for attention and money.

he sat on the edge of the building, his legs swinging off the end like he was five. his mask sat crumpled up in a ball next to him as he quietly ate his sub in peace. he munched on the food while looking at the city below him.

he sighed and sat back, leaning on one arm.

there was simply nothing to do. the city seemed to be fine - no villains to fight, no crime to stop. there was nothing for corbyn to do.

“hey, karen,” he spoke up, swallowing the food in his mouth.

“yes, corbyn?” the robotic yet lively female voice replied.

“any new notifications?” he asked, taking another bite of his food.

“let me check,” karen answered. it was two seconds before the blonde heard her voice again. “there are four messages from (y/n), two messages from mom, and two voicemails also from (y/n). are you ignoring her?”

corbyn’s eyes widened as he dropped his sandwich, not really bothering to check if it had hit anyone on the head or made a mess on the sidewalk. he grabbed his mask and slipped it on his head before speaking again.

“play me the voicemails.”

his heart fluttered when he heard your voice, but broke when he heard how upset you were.

“hey, um, corbyn? it’s (y/n), i was just wondering where you were. you just stopped answering me all of a sudden. i didn’t know what happened. you didn’t read any of my texts, so i just hope everything is okay. um, bye, i guess. text me when you get this. i love you.”

“corbyn, it’s (y/n) again. i’m still worried about you. it’s been five hours, you never go this long without at least saying ‘i can’t talk right now’. i just need to know that you’re okay. i’m sorry about this. sorry if i seem clingy or anything, i just need to know that you’re safe. i’m worried. again, text me when you get this. love you.”

“damn it,” corbyn whispered under his breath.

“are you done for the night?” karen asked.

“yeah, karen, i’m done,” corbyn said before shooting a web to a building in the direction of (y/n) and his apartment. “i gotta get home to my girl.”

you were sitting on your couch. the tall lamp next to you was turned on, and so was the one in the kitchen but other than that, your shared apartment was empty. the tv was off, the washing machine could be heard running from the laundry room. this was your second time doing this load since you’d missed drying it the first time.

you were beyond angry.

actually, you weren’t even angry.

you were hurt. it seemed dramatic, and maybe you were just overreacting, but by that point, it had been seven hours since you’d even gotten a text. you had never gone this long without a notification of some sort from corbyn.

you had a glass of wine next to you. you were just 21 years old, and it was strange for a college student to drink that certain alcoholic beverage, but you found it as a good way to soothe yourself when corbyn couldn’t.

you heard the front door unlock as you sipped your drink quietly. the blonde boy hadn’t yet noticed you sitting on your coach as he shoved the bag with his suit inside into the closet and threw his phone onto the counter.

he sighed before seeing your figure. “(y/n)!” he yelled out in shock. “i didn’t think you’d be awake!”

you shrugged. “i’m awake for you.”

corbyn noticed your lack of enthusiasm that you usually had for him when he came home. he nodded uncomfortably and sat down beside you. you didn’t move at all. you stayed in your position with the wine in your hand and your eyes on the floor.

“what’s with the drink?” corbyn smirked, knowing that you didn’t usually drink.

you shrugged again. “i was thirsty.”

“look, baby, i’m sorry for being late,” corbyn said to you, hoping his apology would end the entire situation. it seemed pathetic, but corbyn really didn’t feel like dealing with the problem at that time.

“i’m not mad because you’re late,” you shrugged, once again, your repetitive actions angering the blonde. “you have school. you’re busy, i get that. i understand, i’m busy too, but that doesn’t mean you blow me off for over five hours corbyn!”

“i know, i know-” corbyn began.

“i don’t think you do,” you spat out. you didn’t realize how angry and hateful your words were, but you saw how much it hurt corbyn. “we’ll talk about it some other time. i’m going to bed.”

corbyn sighed. “hey, karen,” he greeted the robotic voice in his suit.

“hello, corbyn,” the familiar voice spoke to him. she had a spring of energy to her voice that corbyn just couldn’t match. “you sound upset. is there something bothering you?”

corbyn shrugged, the same as your actions the night before. “i don’t know,” he said, sighing. “me and (y/n) had a fight.”

“was it connected to the missed phone calls from last night?” karen asked politely. although she was a robot, corbyn could’ve sworn he heard genuine concern in her voice.

corbyn nodded, replying with, “yeah,” he sighed, looking down at the city glowing below him. “i’ve been keeping this secret from her for so long that i don’t even know how to tell her. it’s killing me. she deserves to know, but i’m pretty sure she thinks that ‘spiderman’ is bullshit.”

“i’m sorry to hear that, corbyn,” karen responded. “but you are going to have to tell her soon. your missions are getting more and more dangerous. something could happen to you and (y/n) would never know.”

corbyn nodded again. it was almost like talking to his mother. there was good advice given, but corbyn still wasn’t sure how to use it.

“it’s just that-” corbyn wanted to tell what was on his mind so badly. he knew that you were the best option but talking to you was so hard. he didn’t know if you’d be angry, or sad, or perfectly fine with it. “what’s that?”

corbyn’s focused on a commotion below him. there were red lights flashing in the corner of two building connected together. he heard the glass of a window break, the shards flying all over the sidewalk and street.

“karen, i gotta get down there.”

corbyn jumped from the building he sat on and sprung webbing from his suit so it gripped the building beside him. he swung from building to building until he finally reached the chaotic scene.

there were three men, each with large guns, and a large dog that had remained surprisingly quiet until corbyn had shown up.

“uh, excuse me there,” corbyn casually walked up. the three men whipped their heads and guns around to face him. the blonde boy threw his hands up in defense. “woah, woah, woah! lower the guns, guys! i’m just tryna tell you something?”

the three men remained quiet and confused.

“what you guys are doing looks extremely illegal, just saying?” the men’s eyebrows cocked in confusion. “illegal? it means against the law. no?”

“shut up!” the man yelled.

“hey!” corbyn yelled back. “that is not nice! you could at least say please!”

a second man, bigger than the first but shorter than the third spoke up. “oh, for fuck’s sake,” he muttered he pulled the trigger on his gun.

corbyn barely had time to react. his eyes widened and he swung to the left, his webbing connecting to the building. he looked behind him and listened to the crash that the shot had made.

behind him, the entire wall of the building had crumbled. the bricks splayed across the sidewalk and the street. corbyn could see that the shot had hit the lampost because the metal pole had a large dent in the middle. there was a cloud of dust from the rumble and it reached into corbyn’s throat, causing him to cough.

the coughing acted as a distraction. he hadn’t even noticed the biggest man approaching him until karen’s voice spoke up. “corbyn, watch out!”

corbyn’s blue eyes looked up and behind him as a large fist was thrown in his way. he felt the sudden force collapse into his skin as he was pushed over onto his back. his spine roughly hit the concrete, and he tasted blood in his mouth, but he tried to stand up again.

this time, the two large hands grabbed his sides and thrown him into another lampost. corbyn groaned loudly from the immense pain the beating was giving him.

“corbyn, you’re bleeding from your-”

“shut it,” corbyn groaned, ignoring how rude he was coming off. “this is gonna be a long night.”

corbyn limped in his red and blue tights. lucky for him, it was after 2 am and everyone in his apartment building was gone. he had his mask crumpled up in a ball in his hand. he wheezed as he leaned against the wall of the lobby, leaving a very faint trail of blood across the brick wall.

he stumbled into the collapsed into the corner. his finger brushed against the 4th floor button; fortunately, he had forced enough weight onto it for it to close the elevator doors and take him to his home.

corbyn gripped the bar on the elevator wall, not caring if his blood stained the metal or not. his breathing became uneven as he watched the menu display which floor the elevator was on. once it reached the fourth level, corbyn tried his best to lift himself up.

his muscles cramped and shook as he did his best to stand up. there was a small ‘ding!’ from the elevator as the doors pushed open in front of him. his breathing was heavier as he walked down the long hallway, and he became dizzier as well.

his vision started to blur, but he could see the outline of his apartment door.

“she’s right behind that door,” corbyn whispered to himself. he was half delirious from the blood loss. “(y/n) is waiting for you behind that door.”

he approached his door and tried to grip the doorknob. most of the blood on his hands was dry by then, but he still had difficulty in getting a firm grip on the knob. he groaned in frustration before he slipped the sleeve of his suit into his palm and twisted it open.

as the door opened, he fell down into his apartment, his cheek hitting the floor. he groaned, needing exactly just that at the moment - more pain.

there was a first aid kit underneath the sink. the sink was approximately four feet away from him. he had tried multiple times to stand up, but it was to no avail. he crawled to the cabinet under the sink and lied down, having no strength.

“you need a hospital,” corbyn muttered. “but you can’t go. don’t put (y/n) through that.”

he pulled open the cabinet and reached for the first aid kit, but stretching his arm sent a shock down his stomach. he bit down his lip to prevent him from screaming out in agony. his hand slapped down to the part of his ribcage that had started to hurt.

he needed help. he didn’t want to put you through this already, but it was either that or pass out from blood loss and you’d find him in the morning. either way, his secret would be shown to you.

he knew you were sleeping. he imagined what you looked like. you probably looked so soft and tired as you were curled up with the blankets in bed. you’d be cuddling the sloth pillow corbyn had bought you one year. your eyes would be gently closed as your eyelashes brushed against your cheek.

you were probably so peaceful.

and corbyn really didn’t want to disrupt that.

“(y/n)!” he screamed out from his position with as much strength as he had. he had already lost his breath and he inhaled deeply before yelling for you again. “(y/n)!”

you weren’t a heavy sleeper. he knew you could hear him. he heard your footsteps trailing out of your room and down the hallway, into the living room and the kitchen.

you gasped. “corbyn!” you instantly noticed the dried blood that had leaked from his noise, the cuts on his lips, the bruises on his cheekbones.

“hey, babe,” he smiled and waved a hand. “can you help me here?” he pointed toward his wound and then to the red box under the sink.

you nodded, not even acknowledging the fact that her boyfriend was wearing the spiderman suit. you grabbed the first aid kit and instantly applied gauze and pressure to the wound. corbyn groaned out in pain, for there was a bruise you were pushing right on.

you gasped and instantly moved. “i’m sorry!” you looked at him with concern in your eyes. “sorry, sorry, sorry.”

corbyn shook his head. “it’s okay, baby, just help me.”

you nodded and noticed he was bleeding through the first dressing. you pulled down his suit, still not noticing the spider symbol on his chest, and added another dressing to his wound. you looked him in the eyes as you applied more pressure.

you were at a loss of words. corbyn looked up at you and tried his best to smile. “you need a fucking hospital,” you whispered, pressing on the dressing. the next part was the gauze. you grabbed the roll of material and rolled it over corbyn’s ribcage at a 45 degrees angle.

“you’re so good at what you do,” corbyn was clearly delirious as his words became slurred.

“i got to medical school for a reason, corbyn,” this scared your boyfriend. you never used his full name unless you were joking or mad at him. and in this case - you were mad at him.

you wrapped the roll of gauze around his torso and used the loose ends to tie a knot. you kept it tight, staring corbyn in the eye as he winced when you pulled it for the last time.

“stand up,” you told him. corbyn looked up at you and saw the anger and sadness and concern in your eyes. he grabbed the edge of the counter and whimpered as he pulled himself up, defying gravity.

you held his arm and helped him stand. you threw one of his arms around your shoulders so he could walk with the support of you. you carried him to your bedroom and sat him on the bed. you entered the bathroom and grabbed a wet cloth.

as you wiped corbyn’s face off, your eyes glued to his injuries, his eyes were glued to yours. he winced slightly as you wiped off the open wounds on his lips, but that didn’t take his gaze off of you.

you noticed him staring. “don’t try and start buttering me up, besson,” you said, throwing the cloth into the bathtub. you looked through the drawers of his dresser and grabbed him a hoodie and a pair of boxers.

you walked back to him and set the clothes beside his legs.

and that’s when you saw it

the blood-stained, red and blue tights. the spider symbol embroidered on his chest. the iconic mask that he held in his hand. there was a web pattern on his suit that you knew was famous.

spiderman.

you gulped and looked up at his blue eyes. he smiled unsurely at you as you looked at him in disbelief.

you stood up from where you sat and felt your breathing pick up. “(y/n), (y/n), baby, calm down,” corbyn stood up and reached for you immediately as you began to walk away backwards.

“y-you- you’re- yo-you’re wea-aring,” you stuttered over your words, not being able to get the idea out. you were in so much shock you couldn’t even stand up.

you looked up at him. “corbyn,” you said simply, gulping again. “y-you’re…spiderman.”

corbyn slowly nodded, having no idea what would happen next. “yes,” he spoke slowly and carefully. you looked like you were about to faint. “i am.”

you nodded, biting down on your lip. it was late. your boyfriend could’ve just died, but you couldn’t be mad at him. he looked at you with concern and love and hope and you could read every thought of his in those blue eyes.

“that’s pretty hot,” you chuckled, your response taking corbyn by surprise. his eyes widened and his eyebrows raised. “no gonna lie.” you chuckled.

“take the suit off. put it away for the night. you’re hurt badly and you’re gonna be sore. put on the hoodie and the pair of boxers. get in bed. i’ll make us some tea, yeah?”

corbyn sat back down on the bed and slightly smiled, seeing the soft side of you he loved. he nodded. you walked over and kiss his forehead. you muttered with your lips against his forehead.

“just promise me you won’t go out every night like this anymore? you could’ve died and i wouldn’t have known why.”

corbyn nodded again, closing his eyes and leaning into your kiss. you ruffled his soft, blonde hair and stood up.

“for me.”

Omg this is the cutest🥺

sassysnowperson

Titles. They’re the worst.

You know what the solution is? Use a Hozier lyric. Too much work? I made a generator that will summon one for you.

It works surprisingly well as a prompt generator, as well.

archival-hogwash

PLEASE USE THIS IT IS SO GOOD

snowlady’s done it again :DDDDDD

counterpunches

#new prompt thingie#generate a title and send it to your fave author and make them write u a fic for it

hiiiiii do you have any good daniel fics?

Okay I’m not sure if you wanted Daniel fics in general or daniel one’s that I’ve written so I’ve made a list of both :) and i couldn’t do it on my phone so I had to wait until I could use my lap top so sorry it took so long, that’s why! Hope this helps

Mine: There’s more on my masterlist, these are just my top ones I think?

Feeling Blue

Sticky Notes

Daniel holding your baby for the first time after you give birth and he’s so scared to hold him because he’s so small

Being best friends with Anna and dating Daniel and you and D get into a fight

Dating Daniel but being a huge space nerd so you’re constantly talking to Corbyn and he starts to get jealous

Others: The list I could make rn of blurbs and fics is ridiculous so these are just some of the ones at the top of my likes, but if you scroll through my likes theres like a million there

That Was It - @jackscorbytch

Waitress - @decafmarais

I Knever Knew- @jackscorbytch

Daniel Blurb- @cloudsncoffee

You’re Mine? - @wdwimagine

i literally smiled so much after i saw this!! i’m so honored thank you!!!💓💓😭

#daniel seavey #why dont we #daniel seavey imagine #corbyn besson #jonah marais #zach herron #jack avery #why dont we imagines #daniel seavey x reader #daniel seavey fanfic #why dont we fanfic

masterlist

jonah:

medicine

one

bondi swells

jack:

home

corbyn:

crayon

daniel:

waitress

waitress | daniel seavey

“Come in Bubba, lunch break is over.”

You took your three year old son, Harrison, by the hand and guided him through the employee parking lot. He struggled to keep up with you as you swiftly made your way to the back entrance; you felt bad for rushing him, but you couldn’t afford to waste any time. Time was literal money, in this case. You let him go in front of you as you opened the door, guiding him by pressing your hand on his shoulder. “To your left, Harrison,” You instructed. He took a second to remember which direction he was going and then quickly skipped down the left hallway.

You were a single mom working two day jobs and one night job in the summer. This one, working as a waitress at a local mexican restaurant, was one you prayed was temporary. You were working on getting your bachelors degree in business by online school, but your graduation seemed to be farther away every day.

There was a small room on on the right that your manager used when she wasn’t on active duty, but graciously let you use it as a playpen for the time being. After Harrison realized where he had returned too, he beamed and ran over to his blanket that was littered with coloring books and dinosaurs. You followed him and leaned his monkey backpack against the wall. You grabbed your uniform shirt and slipped it over the white t-shirt you were wearing while your son squatted down to pick up his t-rex from the floor. Before you turned to leave, he extended his little arm that clasped the figure inbetween his fingers. “Mommy!” He cried to get your attention.

You bent down and smiled at him, fixing his blonde hair so it didn’t fall into his eyes. He started babbling on about the dinosaur and turned to get another one. You took this as your que to stand up and innitiate it wasn’t playtime anymore. “Harrison, remember what Mommy told you to do, okay? Don’t leave this room.” You sternly looked into his eyes as he blankly stared up at yours. You sighed and hoped he retained some of what you just said. You blew him a kiss and scurried out the door before you missed your shift.

As you checked on your fifth table in the last thirty minutes, you took a moment to lean against the wall and breathe. You had never seen the restaurant this crowded before, and there was even more people waiting to get in. One of your coworkers, Amanda, suddenly swooped in by the register and went to swipe somebody’s card. She saw you out of the corner of her eye and breathed a sigh of relief. “There you are, I finally found you. Okay, so Braelyn needs you to attend a special table at the back,” She gestured to the closed doors at the back of the restaurant; the room was typically reserved for big groups of people. “She was trying to come tell you but couldn’t find you.”

You sighed and began putting the complimentary waters on your tray. You hated working those types of groups; big groups never tipped well and were a bad experience overall. “How big of a group?” You asked, preparing for the worst.

Amanda turned around. “Only 6.”

You furrowed your eyebrows at her. “6? In the closed off room?” You questioned.

“Yeah,” She confirmed. “I told you it was special.”

You shook your head a little bit and hoisted the tray so it was balancing on your shoulder. You made your way to the back, weaving through pushed out chairs and children running in and out of the isle. You swiftly got to the frosted glass doors and slid one open, not seeing anyone at first. You slipped inside and saw a group of boys sitting in the far right corner, as far away from the doors as possible. It was odd, but you didn’t have time to ask questions.

“Hey guys,” You greeted as you approached their table. You set your tray down on the empty table next to them and began dispersing the waters you had brought in. “How are you today?”

There was a collective murmur of “goods” and “thanks” as you handed out the last water. As you went to take out your booklet, you studied the men you were catering. Three sat on each side, all of them looking in their early twenties. Two had bleach blonde hair, three with dark brown, and one with curls emiting wildly. “What can I get you guys?”

You turned to the right side of the table, which seated one with bleach blonde hair first. He looked up at you with bright blue eyes and a partial smile. He‘s kind of cute, you noted, They’re all pretty good looking. He stared at you for a moment before quickly looking down at his menu, giving an exaggerated panicked face. “I wasn’t ready,” He laughed. You softly laughed as he motioned for the boy next to him to go.

After you received all their orders, you went to take up the menus. The brunette man sitting on the end of the left side collected all of them and went to hand them to you. As you were exchanging them, he partially leaned in. “Just a request, if possible, to keep this side of the restaurant as low key as you can,” He said in a low tone. “I don’t know how much they told you, but these guys need as much seclusion as they can get.”

You paused for a moment, trying to process what could possibly need “as much seclusion” as they did, but nodded anyway. “Of course,” You assured. The blonde one across from him scoffed, “Tyler you make it sound so serious.”

The whole table chuckled and gave their short remarks as Tyler shrugged. “I’m not taking any chances,” He told them, and then turned to you, “Thank you so much.”

When you went back to the kitchen and gave the cooks their orders, you leaned back against the counter with Amanda, recounting what just happened. You both people watched for a moment before she spoke up, “I haven’t heard anything about them. Just ask them when you bring their food,” She suggested. “From what you said they seem nice.” You nodded and went to attend your other tables.

It was about 10 minutes before you checked back at the kitchen and grabbed what was most of the boys’ food. You packed it onto your tray and once again made the journey back to the unfrequented room. As you got closer, you could see that the door was ajar a significant amount. One of them probably left to go to the bathroom, you assumed. Following suit, you tried to make yourself as unknown as possible and slipped into the room, closing the door with your foot.

You turned on your heels to face them and saw a child standing at the end of the table. The blonde, who know was sitting sideways in his chair so his whole body was facing the boy, was examining something in the little ones hand that looked to be a toy. You furrowed your eyebrows with concern and quickly shuffled over. You froze in your tracks and nearly dropped the food when you realized it was Harrison, your own son, standing at end of the man’s knees. As quickly yet smoothly as possible, you walked over to the table and set the tray down on the empty table aside it. Harrison saw you and beamed up at you, once again holding up that dinosaur he had earlier. “Mommy!” He squealed.

Everyone at the table shot their wide eyes at you, and you felt the blush rising to your cheeks. You bent down to Harrison’s level and put your hands on his arms, forcing him to look into your eyes. “Harrison James, you aren’t supposed to come out into the dining area, remember?” You scolded gently. You didn’t want to be harsh because he didn’t know that he did wrong. He probably saw you walk into the room and didn’t realize it was a part of the working restaurant. “Can you go back and wait for Mommy? We’re only a few hours away from going home,” You reminded him.

He slowly nodded and you stood up, guiding him gently out the door and making sure he went to the right spot. You stood in the doorway and took a deep breath, trying not to cry. This wasn’t the life you were promised; the one your ex had told you he would provide. This wasn’t the life Harrison deserved. He should be able to run around in his own home on week days, playing and watching movies when he pleased; not sitting on the floor next to a desk in some restaurant. He deserved to go to preschool and see friends and have big birthday parties. But as you had to homeschool him because of finances, you were really the only person he knew. He probably had the time of his life talking to the boys at the table, it was somebody new.

You turned on your heels after you collected yourself and walked back to the table. “I’m so sorry about that guys,” You said quietly. They all refused your apologizes, saying how sweet and cool he was. You began to call out food orders and hand them to the boys who claimed them. As you handed the last plate out to the curly headed boy, the blue eyed boy spoke up, “If you don’t mind me asking, how old are you?”

“20,” You answered.

He smiled a little bit and nodded. “You’re a good mom. I can tell.”

You didn’t know how to take the compliment. “I don’t necessarily feel like one,” You said, slightly laughing. You instantly bit your tongue after you said that; you shouldn’t be opening up to these people. They had no care for what you were saying. You were on the job, anyways. “Enjoy,” You spit out, rushing over to grab your tray.

“Wait-“ He called out, turning around in his seat. You took a deep breath and turned around. “I can assure you you’re doing a really good job. I don’t know you or your situation, but I can tell you’re a strong woman.” He eyed your ringless finger.

“Thank you,” You said shyly. You gave a small smile and slipped out of the room, firmly shutting the doors behind you.

You came back to check up on them near the end of their meal. “How was it all?” You said, more stable now. They all gave great feedback as you pulled out the check. “Really good to hear! I’m glad you guys liked it.” You set the check down at the end of the table and clasped your hands together. “Is there anything else I can get you guys before you go? Any waters or snacks for the road? I hear you have a long way to go.”

Tyler looked to everyone as they all shook their heads. “I think we’re good,” He concluded. You gave them all one last smile. “Thank you so much guys,” You said routinely; except this time it felt a little more than a curtesy. You took some of the empty plates and bowls from the table and headed back to the kitchen. When you came back to get the final dishes, the table had been cleared out and money was left on the table. You set your tray down and went over to count it. It covered everything and left you a more than plenty tip.

You smiled at the generosity and put the cash inside the checkbook, slipping it onto the pocket of your apron. Before you grabbed the last couple of plates, a disposable napkin caught your eye. It sat partially under an empty water cup and in the same spot that blonde sat in. It had a phone number written at the top and a note written in shaky handwriting.

I normally don’t do this, but you weren’t of the ordinary. Text me anytime :)

Daniel

You blushed and stared at the napkin before quickly pocketing it. Biting your lip and succumbing the urge to squeal like a little girl, you finished picking up the table. Nobody had made you feel that way before.

Maybe this job wasn’t that bad.

lipstickbisous

1. Post a picture of u?

2. Would you date an 18-year-old at the age you are now?

3. Do you prefer to be friends with girls or boys?

4. Would you ever smile at a stranger?

5. Can you commit to one person?

6. How do you look right now?

7. What exactly are you wearing right now?

8. How often do you listen to music?

9. Do you wear jeans or sweats more?

10. Do you think your life will change dramatically before 2020?

11. Are you a social or an antisocial person?

12. If the person you like says they like someone else, what would you say?

13. Are you good at hiding your feelings?

14. Can you drive a stick shift?

15. Do you care if people talk badly about you?

16. Are you going out of town soon?

17. When was the last time you cried?

18. Have you ever liked someone you didn’t expect to?

19. If you could change your eye color, would you?

20. Name something you have to do tomorrow?

21. Name something you dislike about the day you’re having.

22. Have you ever liked one of your best friends of the opposite sex?

23. Are you nice to everyone?

24. What are you sitting on right now?

25. Do you think you can last in a relationship for 6 months and not cheat?

26. Have you ever wanted someone you couldn’t have?

27. Who was the last person you talked to before you went to bed last night?

28. Do you get a lot of colds?

29. Have your pants ever fallen down in public?

30. Does anyone hate you?

31. Do you have someone of the opposite sex you can tell everything to?

32. Do you like watching scary movies?

33. Are you a jealous person?

34. If you had to delete one year of your life completely, which would it be?

35. Did you have a dream last night?

36. Is there anyone you can tell EVERYTHING to?

37. Do you think you’ll be married in 5 years?

38. Do you think someone has feelings for you?

39. Do you think someone is thinking about you right now?

40. Did you have a good day yesterday?

41. Think back 2 months ago; were you in a relationship?

42. Is your life anything like it was two years ago?

43. If the person you wish to be with were with you, what would you be doing right now?

44. What’s the best part about school?

45. Do you have any pictures on your Facebook?

46. Do you ever pass notes to your friends in school?

47. Do you replay things that have happened in your head?

48. Were you single over the last summer?

49. What are you supposed to be doing right now?

50. Don’t tell me lies, is the last person you texted attractive?

SEND ME NUMBERS AND I WILL ANSWER.

Send me some!!!

e-seal-deactivated20210319

need something to keep me busy writing!!

wdwbabes

chella

ladies…stan yourself

biggest-gaudiest-poltergeist

I’m trying but she’s so damn problematic

macrolit

This could be fun. I scored 11. How about you?

20… Oof

hobby: slightly misquoting Vines just enough for people to notice but not quite enough for them to be certain it’s on purpose

biggest-gaudiest-poltergeist

i’m angry about all of these

sea-anon

Wouldn’t you like to know, newsboy?

What up, my name’s Jackson, I’m 15 and I never fucking learned how to read

This physically pains me.

“I am the sea guardian, guardian of the sea!”

“Neptune quivers before him!”

“Fuck you!”

If your name is Jamie and you’re really pretty come on raise your hand

why do you insist on tormenting me

“Hey baby, Happy One Year.”

“I’m 24-”

Katelyn why would you do this to me

snarling-through-our-smiles

“Chris! Is that a blunt?!”

“No, this is a mark-”

“I’M CALLING THE FIRE DEPARTMENT”

aberrantemotion

@fangirl-rage I’m so proud of you

fishiest-fish

*gun shot, lamp breaks*

THIS IS WHY DAD DOESN’T FUCKING LOVE YOU

cyrusdoodles

“Does anyone tell you look like Rihanna?”

“Nah, they usually tell me I look like Shalissa.”

“Who the fuck is that?”

“Me, bitch!”

fishiest-fish

Look at all those ducks

franthehorsegir

I’m crying right now

zachheroine

Oh my god! I love Subway! Subway is my life.

sandersstudies

I love genuinely innocent “boys will be boys.” Just saw a guy come out of a frat house to poke a pair of jeans they’d left outside - they were frozen solid, and as soon as he confirmed that, like twenty more boys came rushing out of the house going “YOOOOOOOOOO”

rebelminds

I heard grunting outside my window the other night and there were four boys struggling to push this giant snowball (like 7 foot diameter) down the sidewalk.

I once lost my keys at a frat house.

My drunk ass had actually walked home without them, pounded on my apartment door, gotten let in by my rightfully-disgruntled roommate, and proceeded to pass out on the couch. Apparently I puked in the toilet before passing out. I do not remember this part.

The next morning, I schlepped back to the frat house. I stood there, right in front of the front door. This was a novel experience for me. I’d never been at a frat house in broad daylight before.

A boy, presumably, of the house, asked me what I was doing.

“I lost my keys in here last night,” I called back. “I was seeing if I could go in and look for them?”

He opened the door and gestured for me to come in.

“Go wherever you want.”

I’d never seen a frat house post-party before. Wandering up the stairs and through the halls, I was surrounded by hungover and still-drunk frat boys stumbling around in their socks and sandals and gym shorts, seeking out food and showers like moths to a porch light. A few of them threw puzzled glances my way. I’m sure they thought I was some post-bacchanalia hallucination.

I entered one room where a boy was drunkenly watching some Old Yeller-esque movie on a tiny TV in the corner of his room from his bed.

“Do you like dog movies?” he asked, voice all mumbly from grogginess and also from the fact that his face was squished against his pillow and half-buried by his blanket.

I told him I did.

He mumbled again, pleased, and asked what I was doing. I told him I was looking for my keys.

“Sorry, I haven’t seen any keys around here.”

I didn’t doubt him.

Twenty minutes had passed. I’d searched just about every bedroom and nuclear-waste-dump-site of a bathroom in that house. I’d given up on ever finding my keys and was prepared to beg my roommates’ forgiveness and get a new set copied.

As I stood there in the hallway, silently bewailing my predicament, a particularly-burly frat boy approached me.

“You need help with something?”

“I lost my keys here last night and I can’t find them, I’ve looked everywhere.”

“What do they look like? I’ll put it into the group chat.” He was already pulling out his phone.

No one ever checks a group chat, I thought, but what the hell. It was worth a shot. “Um, it’s just a ring of keys. The keychain is a pink plastic cat, though, like yea big. Like bright pink, you can’t miss it.”

He nodded, presumably typing this description faithfully into the group chat.

“Alright, I sent the message out. Good luck.”

And with that, he turned and left.

A few moments later, I heard a distant thundering. It was coming from upstairs, and it was getting louder and louder. One assumes that how I felt in that moment was how Simba felt seeing the wildebeest stampede through the ravine as a horde of large young men all thundered down the stairs, making a beeling for me.

“Someone tell the girl!” One of them shouted, faceless in the mob. “Girl! Hey, GIRL!!! We found your keys, girl!!!”

They circled around me. I hadn’t felt that small since I was maybe eleven years old. One of them split himself off from the crowd.

“Are these -” he pulled out a ring of keys from his pocket, “your keys?”

And lo, there was the distinctive bright millennial pink cat keychain dangling off the ring.

“Yes,” I whispered. “Oh my god, yes.”

“EYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYY!!!”

The cheer went up.

Turns out he found them in the bathroom upstairs. I thanked them again profusely. There was a scattered round of “no problems” and then, just as suddenly as they descended, they all dispersed, like ships in the night.

people who sent requests!!

they are being worked on!! i’ve had a lot of finals and sports activities and i can’t decide whether i like what i have or not. i will be releasing a short fic tonight just to post something!!:)) thank you for your patience

lemme tell you abt my crush,he is in 8th grade, I'm in 7th, he's a ginger, he's 5'9", he's the most athletic boy out of the entire school, he has a super fucked up life (his dad is an ex-military drunk, and his mom is a raging drug addict, he lives with a foster mom w his little brother and threatens to fuck his dad up a lot which make me sad) he likes to sing, he is so funny jksjdkjsk he is so perfect

omg i just saw this im so sorry!!

my crush is kind of similar to yours!! i hope he can grow from his background - he sounds like such a fun person to be around!! i hope you guys someday can make it work out;))

joyus-jack

its fine! but he isnt my crush anymore he can fuck off tbh. he was leading me on oof