Dust would crash his bike and freak out and people are like “Omg do you need help?” And he just scurries away like a scared rat with his totaled bike. He’d gravitate towards horrors house because he’s the only one that’s seen him and seems like he would be a handy man.
How did Dust get in his garage? Horror has no idea. All he knows is he hears noises in his garage and when he goes to check it out he finds dust trying to fix his bike in his garage.
Dust reluctantly lets horror patch up the worst of his injuries.
(sorry this took so long and looks so shit, ive been REALLY busy haha, and i drew everything without a ref, which i DONT do haha)
Chapter 4 of Worst in the business is out on ao3! :)
Things get spicy~!
You can find the fic summary and tags here. Below is a snippet from the chapter. Enjoy!
There are boons to the new system that got Kaveh banned.
Namely: Alhaitham Bahati is sitting at one star. (He's close to two — though he's gotten several zero star reviews from other dashers, which is nothing short of hilarious.)
Since Alhaitham's rating is scraping the bottom of the barrel, no other self-respecting delivery workers in the area pick up his morning coffee order, leaving it for Kaveh. Perfect.
Kaveh picks up the drinks and arrives at the house with glee.
"Good morning," he says as the door opens. He takes in Alhaitham's horrible bedhead, the droopy look of his eyes, and his slouched posture. "Or not?"
"Mornings are never good," Alhaitham supplies. His voice is rumbly, like he's just rolled out of bed. It makes Kaveh shiver in all the right ways.
Kaveh drops a latte in his waiting hands. "Explains why you ordered two." He watches as Alhaitham pops the lid off his cup.
"Hm." He replaces it with a frown. "You've ruined the latte art."
Before Kaveh can react — is he supposed to apologize for latte art getting ruined by, like, basic physics? They argue about this every other morning — Alhaitham nods to the other cup.
With a great sigh, Kaveh pops the lid off this one, too. As expected, the foam is all in disarray.
"That's disappointing."
"Well, what did you expect? For it to be different this time?"
"Is that so much to ask for?" Alhaitham looks so put out that Kaveh's retort dies on his tongue. The man looks so tired and... and…
"Um," Kaveh says, "if you have a pitcher, I guess I could… redo it for you?"
"That's not in your job description," Alhaitham points out. But after a beat, he steps aside. "Come in. I'll show you to the kitchen."
Kaveh follows him through the house, thinking about anything other than the fact that he's still on the clock and that this is not something he should be doing. Which isn't actually hard to do, because what the hell? Alhaitham's furniture is hideous to take in.
Kaveh points to the ugly carving sitting on the bookshelf. It has equally atrocious friends scattered around the living room. "What is this? It's so ugly."
"That is an Aranara. Surely you learned about them in preschool."
The moment Alhaitham assembles a pitcher, a frother, and a carton of milk on the counter, Kaveh gets to work. In a matter of a few minutes, in which they bicker about the merits of aesthetic taste, he's pouring the last of the foam over the second cup, tidying up the edges of the decorative feather he's created.
"There. See? All fixed."
Alhaitham takes the cup in hand, peering down at the art for a few moments. Then he takes a good, long drag of coffee, but not before swirling the cup.
Kaveh is dumbfounded. "You can't be serious."
"It's good." Alhaitham slides the other cup towards him. "Thank you."
"I just fixed the art! You whined about it!"
"It was nice. You looked very focused."
Kaveh shakes his head. "What are you playing at?" he asks. Two coffees... but Alhaitham normally orders one. And now he's teasing him. He let Kaveh into the house without arguing about the practicality of it even once.
But… no. Kaveh's got to be reading this totally wrong, right?
Person A is a superhero who wears a very simple mask that doesn’t cover much, which makes every reporter, villain, fan, hater, etc. think it would be super easy to find their civilian identity - a quest that many have undertaken, but no one has ever managed to learn who they really are. Theories are that Person A can change their appearance or use illusions, but the truth is, in their civilian life they work as a clown, and since they only leave their house for work and are in full clown makeup and attire, they are unrecognizable. Person B is the villain’s intern-sidekick who works as a delivery person in their civilian life to pay their bills, and ends up meeting Person A face to face when they deliver something to Person A’s house that Person A didn’t order but that the customer put in the address wrong. Person B is shocked to see Person A, but Person A doesn’t recognize them and offers to pay for the food anyway, so Person B doesn’t lose out on the money, and even gives them an extremely generous tip. So Person B decides to keep Person A’s civilian identity a secret, only out of a sense of repaying Person A for their kindness.
I legit have no idea what to call this, or what it even is. It's fanart for sure
It's been so long since I actually feel as inspired as this, I know cus I blank out 99.999% of the time when I sketched it. That's why I felt like I should post this :D
(Da sketch)
I regain my consciousness when I drew the lineart somehow, I was really excited to draw this probably.
So much so that I can't even focus completely on what I actually tried to draw earlier.
Anyway; XXX!Frisk and Under[XXX] belongs to @anovainspace
I took inspiration from this.
You should read it if you haven't, or I'll find you, and make you go on to that post, and like it and reblog it and stare at it and read it over and over again (pretty please?)
Medibang was used in the process of creating this fanart.
The ginormous sign that had to be half the size of the door it hung from would have been difficult to miss even if the PLEASE READ DELIVERY PERSON hadn’t been positively bedazzled in red and gold glitter to the point he was sure it could be seen from space.
Well...at least Sparkles had enough sense to recognize that anyone could be delivering their packages and not just delivery ‘man.’ Virgil rolled his eyes as he approached the home, carefully placing the two large boxes on the porch and hitting ‘delivered’ on his tablet before reaching up to grab the sign.
It wasn’t the first time he’d encountered notes left by the owners of the house, though most of them were accompanied by an obviously set up basket full of goodies for him to take from. Rarely a tip or something. But this? He tore the sign off the door revealing a much smaller paper, folded in half underneath it with an elegant Read Me written on it.
“Okay.” He muttered, glancing around the porch as he pulled that note off the door as well. No goodies. But a note? Maybe there would be a tip inside. That or Sparkles had just gone way over the top to ask him to leave the package somewhere else besides the porch.
He flipped open the page.
Hey,
Virgil raised an eyebrow at the freaking cursive that looked like it had come straight out of a disney movie. Geez. Sparkles could make anything fancy.
I know it’s a lot to ask and you probably have a ton more deliveries to do, but my son will be coming home from school soon and it’s his Birthday
“Well Happy Birthday to him.” Virgil muttered, reaching up to adjust his face mask. Why in the world did he need to know that?
Unfortunately, due to work, I can’t be there to greet him and so I was hoping that you would cover for me.
He looked up. “Cover...are you crazy?” Who in their right mind would admit to a complete stranger that their kid was coming home to an empty house?! That was just asking for the boy to get kidnapped.
Of course, Virgil brushed his fingers over his bangs, using the movement to furtively scan the porch for a security camera. A lot of houses had them these days and bingo. There it was, hidden in the corner. Great. Now he couldn’t even pretend to have not read this little note, the owner would know.
But still. Why him?! Couldn’t a neighbor have covered for Sparkles? Surely not all of them were gone to work. Surely they would be better options than risking disappointment on the whim of a delivery guy. He shook his head. This person had to have the luck of the Gods or something if he actually expected the package to arrive right before the kid got home. No one had that good of timing.
I left $200 under the mat.
Virgil stiffened, automatically looking down to the Welcome Princes, Princesses and Non-Binary Royalty!” castle shaped mat at his feet.
TWO HUNDRED--WHY?! He could have just hired a babysitter for that to greet the kid, not risk having a complete stranger take the money and run. “You. Are. Crazy.” Security cameras could only do so much. What if he’d just been a porch pirate? A noisy neighbor? Honestly someone had to have gotten curious over the stupidly gaudy sparkle sign that had been hanging from the door before Virgil tore it down.
One box has my son’s present in it. The other has Winnie the Pooh.
What do you say Pooh? Help me out and give it to him?
Pooh. Sparkles wanted him to dress up as...Pooh? Virgil shot the camera a dark look. “You’re kidding right?” He said, folding the note in half and shoving it into his pocket with one hand as he pulled out a pocket knife with his other, slicing through the tape of the first box with ease and pulling it open and froze as Pooh’s head stared up at him.
