#deal with loosers

[omgchristinaredford-blog]

Yes. california -

Welcome to COMPTON.

I'm from California

#california #compton #CALIFORNIA #californiacation #security #situation #ghetto #massive #CRAZY #people #private community #learn situation #deal with loosers #hollywood california #hollywood #not what you thought #figure it out #get out #leave #bye bye #get lost #others not wanted

[another-whump-sideblog]

Star

Orchard has company often, and she likes to show off her human servant, bragging about what a great deal she got.

Today, there is just one other faery. One with blue hair and eyes that change color every time they blink, and who smells of something Ray has never smelled before. Ray’s never been great with faces, but they think the faery’s facial features keep changing ever so slightly. Ray also can’t tell if the faery is a boy or a girl.

Ray serves them tea, respectfully avoiding eye contact.

“Who’s this?” The faery asks.

“A human I made a deal with. My servant.” Orchard says smugly.

“Ah. And what’s your name, human?”

Ray looks up. Orchards friends don’t usually talk to them. “I- Orchard calls me Servant. And what should I call you?”

“You can call me Star. And I’m not going to call you Servant. What about… Anne? That’s a human name, right? Can I call you Anne?”

“You can call me whatever you like.” Ray glances at Orchard, waiting to be told to leave and do some other chore. Orchard doesn’t seem to notice. All of her attention is on watching Star.

“So serious. Geez, what’d you do to them?”

“The human was like that before we made the deal. There are more important things to discuss. Servant, make yourself useful elsewhere.”

Orchard still won’t look away from Star. Ray quietly backs out of the room. If they’re lucky, they can find something to do that will make it look like they worked the whole time, while actually giving them a break.

—

The next time Star shows up, it’s for a big party. Star is the only person who has spoken to Ray with anything but disdain, so they find themself gravitating towards them. They still serve the other guests, of course. They just tend to end up closer to Star when they’re walking around, waiting to be asked to do something.

Ray has to walk a very thin line, showing that they care about the guests’ comfort while also not going beyond normal politeness, as fae will consider that an attempt to put them in debt. It’s exhausting.

“Oh dear, what happened to your poor hands?” Star has finally taken an interest in Ray again and approached them.

“I… mustn’t speak badly of Orchard.”

“Of course, I would never want to jeopardize your position here. I’m sure Orchard’s definition of a proper servant is very strict, and it wouldn’t be beyond her to use a tiny mistake on your end as an excuse to call off the deal. What will you lose if you break the deal, anyway?”

“I shouldn’t say.” Ray can’t think of why sharing the truth would be dangerous off the top of their head, but they’ve learned not to give any information to the fae that isn’t strictly necessary.

“Ah. I see.”

Someone calls for Ray across the room, reminding them they should not be so focused on just one guest.

“I must assist another guest.”

“Right, you’re on the clock. It was nice talking to you, Anne.”

Ray assumes that ‘on the clock’ is some kind of faery saying and puts the strange conversation out of their mind.

—

“I must confess, Anne, I don’t like the way Orchard treats you.”

Star came for some kind or meeting in a room that Ray wasn’t allowed to even get close to, but they’ve somehow ended up talking to Ray, halfway across Orchard’s home. Ray is sure they aren’t supposed to be here, but they know better than to question faeries.

“I am treated well. I am well fed and I have my own living quarters, which are comfortable.” Ray shouldn’t have shared that. Star doesn’t need that information, and they don’t think Star would tell on them for not complimenting Orchard. They’re off their game today.

“Okay, but you’re also, like, ten years old, and she burned your hands.

“I am not ten years old. The burns were usually accidental.” They really should just find a polite way to ask Star to leave them alone, but… they like talking to them.

That’s the problem. Ray has no issue with being evasive with the other faeries, but they don’t want Star to get bored and leave. They want to talk to the only faery who treats them like a person for a bit longer.

“‘Usually accidental?’ So she hurts you on purpose sometimes?”

“I don’t want to discuss this.”

“What do you want to discuss?”

Ray doesn’t want them to leave. They find a way to politely ask what they’ve been wondering for a while. “Should I call you sir, or ma’am?”

Star smiles. “Just call me Star.”

This is not the answer Ray was looking for. “Should I call you he, or she?”

“They.”

Ray doesn’t understand.

“You look confused.” Ray knows they don’t. They have been told by many, many people that their face doesn’t show their emotions correctly.

“I’m not a man or a woman. I’m not multiple people either, but your language’s gender neutral pronoun is also it’s plural pronoun, and you wouldn’t be able to pronounce the pronoun I use in my language.”

“Oh…” Ray feels destabilized in a way they haven’t since they first started serving Orchard. Also, they’re not positive what a pronoun is, though they can guess from context clues. “I didn’t even know you could be not a man or a woman. Is that a fae thing?”

“No, plenty of species have people like me.”

“How do you- how did you know you weren’t a man or a woman?”

Star laughs. Their laugh sounds close enough to someone suffocating to put Ray on edge, but Star seems fine. “It felt wrong to be called a man or a woman. I knew that wasn’t me.”

This is even more confusing to Ray, because neither binary gender has ever felt right to them either, but they’re sure they’re not like Star. Right?

“Hey, can I ask you one question? Then I’ll get out of your hair.”

“You can. I might not answer, though.”

“What year is it?”

Why would Star ask that? “Well, I know time flows differently here, so it’s probably been a few years, and me and Orchard made the deal in 1902, so probably around 1905 or so? I won’t be done with my debt for 60 or 70 years if everything goes right.”

Ray doesn’t understand the face Star is making. “I best get going, then. The others will wonder where I went.”

They hurry back in the direction they came from, leaving Ray very confused.

—

“Anne? Come here.”

It’s just Orchard and Star today, but Orchard left the room to do… something.

“Does Orchard let you care for the burns she gives you? Does she heal them or give you human first aid?”

“…No.”

“That’s what I thought. I got you something.”

Star holds out a small bottle of aloe vera gel. Ray goes to take it but…

“I would be in your debt.”

Star’s pupils change shape, narrowing to slits. They look distinctly… predatory. “Oh, of course. I’m sure you don’t want to be in anyone else’s debt. I’ll just give you an easy task, one you can do quickly, so you won’t be in my debt for long.”

“…you could thank me for giving you tea. Then you’d be in my debt for that and I’d be in your debt for taking the gel, and they’d cancel out.”

Star’s smile is slightly wider than a human’s could be. “I could, I definitely could. But that wouldn’t benefit me, would it?”

Ray knows they should feel upset. Star’s kindness is dependent on it benefiting them. Star doesn’t actually care about Ray’s well-being.

Instead of feeling upset, though, they feel… powerful. They’ve been given a choice, for the first time in a while. And Star has given them a lot of valuable information just by asking for a favor.

“What could I possibly do that would benefit you?”

“I’m sure you overhear a lot of stuff, working for Orchard. I just want to have all the information I can.”

Orchard charges into the room. Ray didn’t hear her coming, they were so focused on Star’s offer.

“Think about it.” Star says.

“Think about what? What are you two talking about?”

Star turns their attention to Orchard. “We were discussing human stuff. Did you know-“

“Ugh, gross. I didn’t invite you here to discuss humans. Servant, leave us.”

Ray does, feeling slightly giddy. Whatever they choose, it will be their choice, and the power that gives them is intoxicating.

—

The next time Ray sees Star, they don’t get a chance to speak. Ray thought that might happen. They slip Star a note.

Most information that would be interesting to you is spoken in faery languages. I would need to understand those to get you information. I also need you to understand that if Orchard caught me, she would consider my insubordination a breaking of the deal, and I would lose something I cannot afford to lose. I do not accept the deal.

Ray can’t just say “I don’t trust you and I’m not accepting the deal.” Star would get bored of them, and they’ve come to rely on the short bursts of positive attention. Ray needs to make sure Star always thinks they’re one convincing argument away from getting what they want, so they don’t decide to try and find someone else to provide information.

—

“Anne.”

Ray wakes up suddenly, heart pounding. Star stands above them.

“I understand that the favor I asked for will mean a lot of risk on your part. I’m willing to negotiate. What would make this worth your while?”

Ray can’t believe what they’re hearing. They get to negotiate?

They shouldn’t just negotiate for something they want, though. They should pick something that would require Star a lot of time, so that they continue talking to Ray.

“…It would be worth it if you could check on my sister for me, and tell me how she’s doing. And give me the aloe vera.”

“Where is your sister?”

“I don’t know. I don’t even know how long it’s been since I last saw her.”

“What does she look like? What’s her name?”

“I’m not telling you her name. She looks very similar to me.”

“Mm. Fine. I’ll find her. Shouldn’t be too hard, with magic. Then you’ll help me?”

“I still don’t understand faery languages.”

“Right! I got you something.” Star hands them a small seashell. “Put that in your ear, and you’ll be able to understand any language. And you can accept it now, because you’ve agreed to our deal already, right? I just need to find your sister before you start your end of the deal.”

Ray shakes their head and tries to give the seashell back. When Star doesn’t take it, Ray drops it. “I have no use for this until it’s my turn to fulfill my end of the bargain. Until then, it’s just a liability. What happens if Orchard sees it?”

Star’s eye twitches. “Of course. Well, I’ll be back when I find your sister.”

Star picks up the seashell and jumps out the window. Ray goes back to sleep.

—

The next time Star visits Orchard is much, much later. They slip Ray a note, this time.

I checked on your sister. I will tell you how she is and give you the aloe vera and hearing device if you agree to help me out.

Ray isn’t sure what to do. They can’t get into debt, but they also can’t lose the only person who’s nice to them. They avoid Star as they mull it over.

—

When Star stormed into the house, Ray was worried they were mad at them. But Star doesn’t seem to notice Ray. They went straight to Orchard and started yelling, switching back and forth between english and a faery language.

Ray listens from only a few feet a way, completely ignored by the faeries, trying to figure out what’s going on. They catch something about “sabotage” and “this isn’t what we discussed” and “do you think you can get away with crossing me? I will make your life a living hell!”

Star storms out as quickly as they came in, but not before shaking Ray’s life one last time. “It’s 2015. Orchard took your sister into the fae realm so she could use you as a servant for longer.”

Star slams the door on their way out. Orchard glares at Ray. “This doesn’t change anything. If you stop serving me, if you break the deal, your sister will die.”

Star has given Ray another choice. They look at Orchard, look at the door, look at Orchard. It’s their choice.

Orchard tricked them. Star only revealed the truth to get back at Orchard, but… it’s more than Orchard ever did.

Ray sprints out the front door, calling for Star. “Where is my sister? Where did Orchard take her? Star!”

But Star is already gone.

#jane’s pets #I wasn’t quite sure how to handle pronouns #and like how to refer to Star from Ray’s perspective #cause Ray is from quite a long time ago #and while queerness has always existed #they wouldn’t know about the terms Star uses without being told #but it feels weird to misgender a character in the narration… #i don’t know. hopefully the way I did it worked #this isn’t the first time narration has included stuff the character would only know in the future anyway #I’m a bit looser when it comes to 3rd person POV lol #technically ‘on the clock’ began to be used around the time Ray made the deal #but I figured it was a new enough phrase then that Ray wouldn’t have heard it yet #or maybe they did and just forgot #by the time they’re having that conversation with Star a long long time has passed

[venterry]

growing more interested in joining artfight this year but i need!!!! to finish character profiles i need to draw

#im aiming to add: my destinyguys + extras if i have the time #www/mys main cast because it would be fun and i finally figured out the logo for the shop #MIGHT add wallow cast but idk im still working out details and leaving open ends for later stuff so we'll see #won/diosyne have looser concepts bc of the way the story is written they could be fun but would take a while bc details #cosmos i kind of would like to add but the designs are SUPER simple & characters would be hard to define bc theyre more like a feeling #hdg could be cute but i wouldnt trust 90% of strangers online with that #the same would be for cpkm idk! thats something for future me to deal with when those projects are finished #black willow would be fun to do especially with the mirror designs but it would feel like furry bait lol #idk theres a lot to choose from & consider so im likely just gonna share ocs from small projects that r just for fun (including dstny) #venspeaks #long tags i need to go makd lunch

[iam-toxxic]

finally blocked that shithead and now I'm free again

#we are not “similar” #the only thing we had in common was selfdistructive tendencies #and while I'm still a decent person he just FUCKING SUCKS #actuallybpd #actuallyborderline #bpd fp #can't believe I wasted half a year dealing with that looser

[upsidedownwithsteve]

Steve Harrington x fem!reader [4.2K] loosely based on the movie float, lifeguard!steve, a summer full of swim lessons. mentions of drowning, eventual smut 18+

SWIM LESSON SCHEDULE

LESSON #1

“Oh, come on,” the guy coaxed, voice wheedling and a little slurred. 

You didn’t really know him, a friend of a friend's cousin who was visiting from out of town but he’d been cute enough to entertain five beers ago. He’d grown sloppier now, a little leery, his hand around your wrist as he udder you towards the dock that overlooked Lover’s Lake. 

You’d dug your heels in, smiling through your teeth as you shook your head and tried not to spill the cheap wine Robin had brought down the front of your shirt. The small beach that was hidden in a cove was surrounded by trees, green in the summer, full and making the crescent moon strip of land perfect for a bonfire and for some drinking. 

There were small crowds of people all over the sandy patch, sitting on blankets and cheap camping chairs, familiar faces lit by the small fire, people you didn’t know as well lingering between, bare feet on the edge of the shoreline. 

You’d came with Eddie, riding in the front seat of his van with a rucksack full of corner store liquor on your lap, the smell of weed coming off strong from the pocket inside his leather jacket. 

“A night full of potential clients, sweetheart, please,” he’d pleaded with you, brown button eyes wide. “The Jacksons have their cousins over from the backass of Georgia, they’ll pay for the rest of our summer if I show them the good shit.”

So you’d agreed, albeit grudgingly, letting your best friend haul you off your sofa and to the get together that you didn’t really want to go to. But Robin was there, and Nancy too, a few people you hadn’t seen since senior year, back for the summer to visit their folks and well - it wasn't all bad. 

Then the evening faded into night and the lavender skies turned inky, the same shade as the lake water. And when people got a little looser, whisky and bud light warming their veins, they laughed as they stripped down to mismatched underwear and dove off the dock, splashing and shrieking in water you couldn’t see the bottom of and god—

You’d, grimaced, turning away from the shoreline and sticking close to Eddie, the boy’s arm always brushing your own even when he was busy dealing, twenties fisted in his hand as he passed over baggies to a twenty something girl you’d never seen before. 

But then that guy found you, relatively sober and sweet until he wasn’t, sloppy with his arm around your neck, breath smelling like smoke and beer and he was pulling you towards the people in the water, telling you it was all part of the fun. You’d protested immediately, intensely, eyes wide as the water came closer and your feet hit the wooden planks of the dock. 

Between the gaps, you could see black, dark water rippling, the moon overhead glinting white off the tips of the current. Eddie hadn’t noticed you were gone until the stranger had dragged you half way down the decking. Your wrist burned from how tight he held it, how hard you tried to twist it from his grasp. 

“Hey— hey!” Eddie had barked out, loud and brash and aggressive enough to make a lot of people around him startle. He broke free from the circle that had gathered around him, lips set in a snarl and determination in his eyes. You knew fine well that when Eddie got his hands on this guy, it wasn’t going to be pretty. “What the fuck do you think you’re doing? Let her fucking go—”

But Eddie couldn’t reach you in time, not when his boots dug too deep into the sand and there were too many people to push out of the way. The guy laughed at a joke you weren’t a part of and then he pushed. 

Your arms swung wildly, windmilling as gravity took over, your balance gone and you were too near the edge of the dock to do anything about it. Your hands grabbed at the air, fingertips just brushing your new acquaintances shirt and his grinning face and beer blurred eyes were the last thing you saw before you back hit the water. 

It was as dark underneath the surface of the lake as it was above it, an icy shock despite how warm the day had been, how the heat still lingered in the night. You gasped, immediately inhaling, murky water filling your mouth and throat and you kicked, hoping that the direction your hands were clawing in was up. 

But nothing happened and your body didn’t move. 

On the beach, people were murmuring, too drunk to consider the consequences, too stoned to fly into action. Besides, only seconds had passed. Bubbles were floating in the spot you’d gone under, ripples evidence of the fact that you’d once been there. Eddie was sweating, shoving at people as he ripped off his leather jacket and prepared to vault himself onto the water after you but someone at the bottom of the deck beat him to it. 

Steve Harrington had dropped his beer at the first sign of the commotion, his part in the conversation with Jonathan Byers and his friend from California dying off as he turned to watch a guy he didn’t know drag you down the dock. The stranger had been laughing but you hadn’t, and before he could say something, Steve only had a second to look at the absolute horror on your face before you were forced backwards and into the lake. 

He was on his feet immediately, facing back up the dock to where you’d disappeared from, watching wildly for signs of you returning to the surface. And then Eddie was yelling at him, pushing past some underage kids from out of town, half of his jacket hanging from his shoulders and he was yelling. 

“Steve! Steve, she can’t fuckin’ swim, man—”

If Eddie finished the sentence or said anything else, Steve didn’t hear it. He launched himself off of the side, hitting the cold water with a splash he didn’t hear. Water filled his ears and fuck, he could barely see. But somewhere a little below him there was a flash of white from your shirt that had tangled itself up around your neck, your arms flailing wildly as you tried your damn hardest to kick up the way. 

Steve had grabbed your arm, your panic making you slip before he curled his fingers around your wrist and then you were being hauled against him, your back to his chest as he moved with a confidence you could never imagine for yourself. You’d been under for a minute, maybe a little more, maybe a little less, but Steve had your head breaking the surface of the lake in seconds. You were gasping and coughing, your fingernails tattooing half moon lines in Steve’s forearm as you held onto him, fear gripping you as hard as you did him. 

You thought you’d heard his voice, a low murmur in your ear that was fuzzy from the water lodged there, from the buzz and clamour that had then awoken on the beach as the music stopped and people were gathered by the shoreline. 

Eddie had been knee deep in the water, readily meeting you and Steve as the boy swam closer with you, and once your feet hit the sandy bottom, you lurched forward, hands held out to grab Eddie’s waiting ones. 

Steve’s were on your back, keeping you upright and steady until he saw that Eddie had you. You and Steve were both dripping and Eddie was swearing, his cheeks red and his eyes wide, unsure whether to rush you to his van first or hunt down the creep that had put you in danger in the first place. 

But Nancy was rushing forward with a blanket, wrapping it around your shoulders and taking in your chattering teeth and panicked stare, the vice-like grip you had around Eddie’s fingers. “He’s gone,” she said to the boy. “He ran off when he saw Steve dive in. Just get her home, Eddie.”

Steve Harrington had ended up in the front bench with you in Eddie’s van, your shivering frame sandwiched between both boy’s and no one said anything until you all got back to Eddie’s trailer. 

You hadn’t said anything as you’d headed for a hot shower, your wet clothes slapping on the bathroom tiles as you had stripped, slimy weeds and grains of sand stuck to your cold skin and your hands were still shaking as you twisted the squeaky handle to turn the water up hotter still. 

And when Eddie was ripping his room apart for dry clothes for you and Steve to change into, his eyes watery with anger, his throat tight with rage, Steve had been leaning against his door frame with his arms crossed over his damp chest.  

“We’ll get him,” he’d said quietly, just in case you could hear above the spluttering of the old pipes. “We’ll find out who he was and— and we’ll deal with him and then I’m gonna teach her how to swim, alright?”

Eddie nodded, movements sharp and jerky and he handed Steve a pair of black sweatpants and an old Metallica shirt. 

“Alright?” Steve had repeated, chin ducked to make Eddie meet his gaze. He had been so serious. “I’m gonna give her lessons. This won’t happen again.”

The sky was still half pink as you biked down the empty sidewalk. 

A blue-lilac colour, softer than you’d usually witness due to the early morning hour. The sun was still low, the town still asleep, the watch on your wrist telling you the seven am was still to come. Your bike chain whirred softly, brakes squeaking as you slowed by the chain link fence. 

Hawkins community pool was sun bleached and well loved, the old bunting that draped over the water barely red and blue, the shutters for the food stand still rolled down and locked. The aquamarine slide was now more white and it looked like it would give you an infection if your skin was to snag on one of the exposed bolts. But the gate was open, only just, and you sucked in a deep breath as you let your bike lean against the wall. 

Chlorine filled your nose as you walked in, the generator humming and the pool filter trickling, the sun loungers empty and still stacked against the changing rooms. Despite your early wake up call, the air was already warm, a humid kind of heat that Indiana summers brought, sticky and sweet smelling, like someone had left a jug of peach tea on their porch all day. 

The tiles that surrounded the pool were wet, recently hosed down and cleaned, and your sneakers slapped noisily as you walked towards the waters edge. You didn’t go too close, not at all, grimacing at the bright blue rectangle like it would force you in itself. It seemed somehow more menacing when it was still, a glasslike surface reflecting the cotton candy sky above it, no splashing and screaming kids to fill its depths. 

Then a boy appeared - no, more man than boy - from the staff building. 

He had red shorts on, the fabric sitting above his knees and an old white shirt that you assumed must’ve once said “lifeguard.” He was barefoot and tanned, sunglasses sitting on the bridge of his nose and he didn’t even notice you at first, too busy hanging a net back onto the wall. 

Steve Harrington was pretty and tall and he had really good hair. He was quieter than when you’d know him in high school, softer looking than he’d once been. But you didn’t really know him and he didn’t really know you. But he was friends with Eddie and you were friends with Eddie, so somehow, someway, that meant you were kind of, almost friends with him too. 

Except you weren’t and you had no idea why you’d agreed to this. 

“You can change in there.”

You hadn’t expected his voice, so you startled, arms wrapping tighter around your body and crushing the small rucksack that housed your suit and towel. You frowned at the idea, because changing meant one step closer to going into the water and you weren’t quite sure you wanted to do that yet. 

So you said nothing.

Steve just watched you from across the pool, brows raised. And then he shrugged and muttered something that sounded like “suit yourself,” before he threw his sunglasses onto a plastic chair and tugged his shirt over his head. 

You’d barely gotten a chance to really look at the quick flash of tanned, bare skin he exposed before he dove into the water, barely causing a ripple. You were slack jawed as you watched him move seamlessly below the surface, his body a pretty shade of blue as his muscles flexed, strong back and broad shoulders stretching as he swam. 

When he reappeared, much closer to you, Steve braced his forearms on the edge of the pool and dragged a hand through his wet hair, strands of it plastered to his forehead, water clinging to his lashes. 

You didn’t know where to look. 

“You’re not going to learn much if you don’t take your clothes off.”

Despite the way his words warmed you, skin heating up the same way the morning was, you scowled. You didn’t want to be here. Not at the pool, not around water, not with Steve Harrington and certainly not at seven in the morning on a Saturday. 

And now you were standing under the morning sun and the same boy that saved you from the lake was squinting up at you from the pool below and you were only really here because Eddie had begged you. 

It had been a whole week and you could still taste lake water on the back of your tongue. 

“Changing rooms are over there,” Steve motioned to the building behind you with a tilt of his head.

You tried not to look at him, or the water, when you nodded tightly, dragging yourself off to the ladies section. And when you came back out, the sun had risen just a little more and Steve was still in the pool, floating easily on his back as he used his arms to move slowly around the water. The rays were glinting off of the water and him, toned shoulders and soft stomach glittering with water droplets and suddenly the pool seemed an even scarier place to be. 

The old swimsuit you’d managed to pull on was a little on the tight side, all black and supposed to be modest if the too small size hasn’t been cutting into the swells of your ass and chest. It had been a good few years since you’d had reason to put it on, and even then, you hadn’t gone near water. A beach day on the Fourth of July with enough space between you and the ocean that you hadn’t even minded the sand too much. 

So you stood with your arms crossed over your chest, trying to hide the expanse of skin there, your knees pressed together and you looked downright mournful about your current predicament. If Steve hadn’t remembered the fear in your eyes that night in the lake as you scrambled for him under the water, he would’ve cracked a joke or two. 

Instead, he swam over to you cautiously, fingers curling around the edge of the pool as he swiped his wet hair from his forehead. “Hey,” he began gently. The town still hadn’t woken up yet, not really. It was just Steve’s voice and the hum of the pool filter, some cicadas buzzing in a bush behind the far side of the fence. “Nothing bad is going to happen, alright? Not here.”

You looked at him like you didn’t believe him, eyes wide and lips drawn into a tight line. You didn’t move an inch. And it wasn’t because you didn’t trust him, not really. You were exactly friends but Steve was close with Eddie and if Eddie trusted him— well. He got an automatic pass from you too. 

Eddie didn’t trust a whole lot of people. 

But the problem wasn’t Steve. It was most definitely the rectangle full of blue water, shimmering and pretty as it was, it looked deep, the slope of it going downdowndown and Steve’s body was distorted under the ripples, his legs looking broken and mangled, the surface lapping way too high across his shoulders and neck. 

Your body felt like lead, a dead weight ready to sink to the pool floor, legs unable to push yourself back up. 

You took a step back. 

“Okay,” Steve sighed and he tried really hard to not sound impatient. The day had barely begun and he’d make a promise to Eddie, one he really didn’t want to break. “We’ll take it back a little, yeah? Come over here.” 

You watched as he pulled himself out of the pool with an impressively low amount of effort. The muscles in his shoulders and back bunched up and he swung a leg onto the tiles before standing, water dripping off of him, cool and splashing your toes. He made a point of not looking at your and all your bare skin as he walked around the edge of the pool, right towards the back of the lot where there was a set of stairs that led into the shallow end. 

He didn’t look over his shoulder to check if you were following and you only hesitated for a second or two before you did. And when he reached the top of the steps, he waited for you and held out his hand, brows raised expectantly. 

You stared back. 

The water didn’t look as scary here, but not by a whole bunch. It was lighter blue, the white tiles on the bottom of the pool about more visible and the numbers that were flaking and painted on the side of the wall said the depth was only two and a half feet. 

You could drown in less, the voice in your head told you. It sounded a lot like your mom. 

So you kept your arms crossed for a little while longer, teeth gnawing unkindly at your bottom lip. Steve just waited, hand extended palm up and after a minute had passed, he took one step into the pool, standing ankle deep in the water on the top stair. He caught your eye then, smiling in what he hope was a reassuring way. 

“D’you trust me?” He asked, eyes squinting in the bright sun. There was a mole on his cheek that disappeared into the lines of his skin when he smiled. “S’okay if you don’t yet, but, I’m a lifeguard here, so like, legally? I can’t let you die.”

You surprised both yourself and the boy when you snorted unexpectedly, a sharp sound of amusement that you used a hand to cover up. But it seemed to encourage Steve, ‘cause he positively beamed at you, his hand wiggling, vying for your own. 

“C’mon, I promise I won’t let you go,” he swore. He leaned further forward, his fingers close enough to brush the softness of your stomach, if he so pleased. He didn’t. “We’ll start nice and easy today, alright?”

It felt momentous, when you slid your hand into his. He was still warm despite his pool damp skin, like the sun lived inside his bones. He grinned, victorious, nodding encouragingly when you moved to the edge of the steps. 

“We’ll do them one at a time, alright?” Steve moved to stand in front of you, his other hand catching your free one until he was guiding you closer and closer to the water, walking himself backwards with every step you took forward. You flinched when your foot hit the first step, the water warmer than you’d anticipated, brushing up just past your ankle. 

You had two feet in the pool and two hands in Steve Harrington’s and it felt like the entire world was about to implode on you. 

“There you go,” Steve murmured, warmth and a little hum of pride in his voice. “See? S’not bad, right? I’ve still got you.” So you took another step and another and suddenly the water was lapping at your knees. You froze, grip tightening around Steve’s fingers and your wide eyes found his, all too aware of the way you were very much in the pool now. 

“Hey, hey,” Steve’s thumbs rubbed over the back of your knuckles, the skin there burning from holding him so tightly. “Listen. Do you trust me?”

There was no joke that followed the question this time. His eyes were earnest and warm, serious as they looked at you, searching your face for any signs that you were going to flee. It took you a few seconds, swallowing dryly and taking a deep, staggering breath before you nodded. You did, you did trust him, and that was as surprising as you being in the pool. 

“Yeah,” you told Steve, voice a little weak and hoarse. “Yeah, I trust you.”

He squeezed your fingers and his smile was gentle, an achingly kind thing that made your eyes water in the corners and Steve let you stand on that middle step for a little while longer. “Good,” he finally said and his voice was as soft as yours had been. You tried not to look at the way the chain around his throat caught the sunlight, the silver turning golden, just like his skin. “Good. ‘Cause I’m not going to let anything happen to you, okay?”

You nodded, feverish and your movements jagged and you tore your eyes from Steve to look at your bare feet on the steps, your toes waving under the ripples, longer and skinnier and then fatter and wider. The sight made you dizzy, stomach tumbling a little but even still, you wished you’d had the forethought to paint your toenails something pretty. 

“Two more steps, alright?” 

Steve’s encouragement broke your senseless wanderings and you nodded again, words caught in your throat and he was leading you forward, hands wrapped around your own and he grinned when you took another step down, the water hitting your upper thighs. It was cooler as you went deeper, a stark contrast to the warm, sticky air above it and your skin prickled, mouth falling in a quiet gasp. Another step, happening almost too fast for you to overthink it, the water at your hips and making you swear as you rose onto your toes almost instinctively. 

Steve laughed, not unkindly, as you moved closer to him, unthinking as your hands left his in favour of clinging to his upper arms. It felt safer like that, anchoring yourself to his solid frame, but there was so much bare skin involved and not a lot of space left between you both as you held on for dear life. His fingertips brushed the sides of your waist before he must’ve thought better of it, cheeks burning before his hands cupped your elbows and he took a little step back so your chest didn’t touch his. 

“You’re alright,” he murmured. “You did it, yeah? That’s it. You’re in.”

Steve was grinning and you tried to smile too, trying to feel proud of your little accomplishment but the rest of the pool was stretched out behind Steve’s shoulder and the water there was so much more blue, cerulean leading into indigo until you couldn’t see the bottom anymore. 

Steve must’ve noticed cause he shook his head, the hand cupping your elbow smoothing up your arm until he squeezed, water dripping from his palms and coasting down your skin. “Hey, hey, none of that. That’s for another day. We’re staying here, alright?”

You grimaced at the idea of ‘another day,’ but his words still didn’t ease you. You licked at your lips, dots of chlorine on them and despite how stupid you felt, you asked anyway. “What if— what if l, like, float over that way? Accidentally.”

Steve smiled like he couldn’t help himself, laughter in his eyes and a grin that he quickly tamed. “We’re not gonna catch any waves in here, this isn’t Maui,” he was still smiling, teasing, just a little. But sensing your growing worry, he continued. “And if that had to happen - which it won’t - I’ll come and get you.”

You stared at him, heartbeat in your throat and so many other questions on your tongue. They died there, fizzing into nothing as Steve held your gaze, a silent promise in his brown eyes. You’d never noticed how long and thick his lashes were, still wet and spiky from when he’d been swimming as you changed. 

Maybe there was doubt in your eyes, or maybe Steve just felt the need to reiterate his statement, but when he said once more, “I’ll come get you, just like last time,” you really did believe him. 

#steve harrington #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington fic #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington fanfiction #steve harrington oneshot #steve harrington smut

[asiananeurysm]

.

#so I'm staying on at my old job part time but took the month of November off to settle into the new one #today was my first day back at the old job and it was truly such a fun time catching up with all my co-workers #i genuinely love the friends I've made there and i want to keep both jobs as long as i can #i really feel like i just got paid to hang out with my friends today and i loved it #to be there a few hours a week is great. I'm released from all the bull shit i had to deal with when i was there full time #it's so nice to be able to just chill at work. i used to feel so irritated there bc I had to do everyone's jobs for them #and i still care about doing a good job its just the expectations are so much looser for me now and i am relishing it #i genuinely had such a fun shift #personal

[jayden-writes]

fragile

pairing: Lucifer x gn!Reader

wordcount: ~1.5k

genre: hurt/comfort, angst

cw: descriptions of an injury (sprained ankle)

summary: When you sprain your ankle, Lucifer doesn't appreciate your attempt at hiding it.

other notes: no name, Y/N or MC used // based on this drawing by @sbmlamb // AO3 // thanks again to @gravedwe11er for helping me so much with this fic!

There was no doubt in your mind that you must have been the clumsiest being in all three realms. Twisting your ankle because you simply tried to keep up with the long strides of a demon? How utterly embarrassing.

Gritting your teeth, you kept following the brother that was escorting you back to the House of Lamentation today - Satan. It seemed as though he hadn't noticed the way you were falling behind or your minor accident at all, being too engrossed in his rant about something Lucifer had done.

Despite the mixture of pain and numbness radiating up your lower leg, you managed to catch up with him, maintaining a mostly normal expression and a steady gait. Turning his head towards you, the anger drained from his features as he observed you. He took in your carefully masked suffering and how your shoulders were heaving with the effort it had required to get back to him.

“I'm sorry,” he said, slowing his pace and giving you a worried glance, “I hadn’t realized that I was too fast for you. Are you alright? It looks like you’re in pain.”

Cursing yourself internally, you racked your brain for a believable excuse.

“I… uhm… I just have a stitch in my side. No big deal,” you explained, shooting him a reassuring smile.

Satan nodded and visibly relaxed at your words, returning his attention to the path. From that point on, the walk back was spent in comfortable stillness with him occasionally glancing at you. When you reached the mansion and entered, you exhaled a quiet sigh of relief and waved goodbye, heading straight for your room as quickly as you could without putting too much weight on your foot while still walking normally. Finally inside your own space, you hobbled towards your bed, sitting down to take off your shoe and sock, which jostled your ankle, and caused you to hiss in agony. Once it was bare, your eyes widened at the sight of it swollen and bruised.

“Fuck…” you muttered and attempted to move it, which only made the pain worse.

Suddenly, there were knocks on your door, startling you.

“Oi! It’s your turn to make dinner!” called Mammon’s voice out from the other side. Right. Of course. You had completely forgotten about that.

“Give me a moment!” you yelled back and you heard him disappear again.

Sighing, you removed the second shoe too, and slipped into a pair that had a looser fit to reduce the pressure on your foot. Then you limped towards the doorway, biting your tongue to stifle the pained whimpers threatening to escape you, and opened it. Peering outside, you looked to your left and right, checking whether someone was around. Satisfied at not seeing anybody, you stepped out and silently shut the door behind you. Making your way to the kitchen, you put as little strain as possible on the ankle.

Aside from being embarrassed about your clumsiness, you also didn’t want them to worry about you or for them to start treating you as if you were a fragile thing. You weren’t. You really weren’t. You were a human and they were demons. Surely, you would be able to handle this just fine on your own, and wouldn't have to rely on one of the brothers.

It took you almost twice as long as usual to get to the kitchen, but once you did, you immediately started gathering all of the supplies you needed to prepare the meal. Still, you stayed vigilant, closely listening for any noises so you’d know when to stop limping.

What you hadn’t accounted for, however, was the practiced silence of Lucifer’s steps. You didn’t hear him arrive, rather, you felt his presence, the way his crimson gaze burned into your back. It made the hairs on your neck stand up and you whipped around to see him leaning against the doorframe, his eyes narrowed and fixed on you.

“And what exactly,” he drawled, pushing himself off the frame to saunter towards you, “do you think you’re doing?”

“Cooking dinner…?” you replied hesitantly, although it sounded more like a question than an answer. His tall figure loomed over you, and you tried your best to maintain a casual position that kept your weight off your foot.

“Is that so?” he hummed thoughtfully, scrutinizing you. “What made you think that this was a good idea in your current state?”

“Huh? Come again?”

“You are hurt, are you not?” Lucifer’s voice was calm and collected, in contrast to the displeasure evident on his face.

“I’m not, I’m totally fi-” you began, only to be cut off by him saying your name sharply.

“Do not take me for a fool. Answer me. What made you think walking around with an injury was a good idea?”

“It’s my turn to cook dinner…” was your meek reply, and he simply sighed deeply.

“Seriously. You are incorrigible. I can’t believe you sometimes. Sit down. Now.”

Reluctantly, you obeyed him. He kneeled in front of you, reaching for your ankle, and pulled the shoe off with careful motions that betrayed the ire he was exuding.

“It’s just a bit twisted. I’m sure it’ll be fine by tomorrow, there’s no need to make a big deal out of this,” you mumbled, grimacing as you watched your swollen and bruised foot become visible again.

“Twisted, you say?” Lucifer echoed, his gloved fingers delicately grasping your injured body part as he examined it. At first, it was painful, but soon a soft glow emanated from his hands, providing a cooling sensation that dulled the ache. “It is not twisted. You sprained it, if not worse.”

“Oh…” you responded quietly. “Well, that’s not good, I guess?”

“Not good…” he repeated, shaking his head in disbelief. “That certainly is one way to say it. Especially considering that you have foolishly decided to keep straining it.”

Standing back up, he hooked one arm underneath your knees, wrapping the other around your back to lift you up. Your brain short-circuited for a moment as you were held against Lucifer’s chest. He was already halfway to your room when you managed to recover yourself and glanced up at his face to study his stern expression. Red eyes darted down to meet yours, and you flinched internally at the combination of anger and disappointment swirling in them, swiftly averting your gaze. Once he had entered, he placed you on the bed and made sure to elevate your ankle, then he turned to leave.

“Stay here and do not move. I will return soon,” he said gruffly, and with that, he was gone, leaving you alone. Defeated, you let your head sink into the pillow and stared at the ceiling. Eventually, the door handle was being pushed downwards, and heels clicked across the floor as Lucifer approached you, pulling up a chair to sit on.

“I will perform a quick diagnostic spell. It may cause an odd feeling, just bear with it for a minute,” he informed you matter-of-factly, and you gave an affirming hum, only briefly glancing at him to catch a glimpse of first-aid materials before looking away again. Mumbling some words under his breath, he grazed his fingertips over the swollen flesh, the leather of his gloves barely touching your skin. It was silent for a while and your foot prickled until he withdrew his touch.

“You are lucky. Nothing is broken, however, one of the ligaments is partially torn,” Lucifer explained plainly. “You will have to stay in bed and rest for at least a week.”

“A week?!” you exclaimed indignantly, propping yourself up on your elbows to look at him. “You can’t be serious! What about RAD? I have a presentation in two days!”

He huffed in annoyance and shot you a glare, taking out bandages.

“You have two options: either you will stay in bed voluntarily or I will have you tied to it. So, what shall it be, hm?”

Without offering a response, you sank back into the bed.

“Good. I’m glad you’re finally being reasonable,” he grumbled and started wrapping your ankle up carefully.

Turning your head away from him, you clenched your jaw tightly when the pain that he had dulled earlier with whatever spell he had used resurfaced temporarily. Lucifer heaved a faint sigh as he took note of your stubborn stillness and your tense posture. As soon as he was done, he put a cold compress on your ankle and sat on the bed next to you, the mattress sinking under his weight. He spoke your name; you didn’t respond.

“Come on now,” he whispered, his voice much gentler now, and he stroked a hand over your hair, “I am simply looking out for you, you know that, right? You are far too reckless with your health.”

“You’re one to talk,” you retorted, and pouted, but you turned your gaze back towards him, observing his softened expression as he hovered over you.

“Don’t deflect,” he chuckled, and cupped your cheek, leaning down to press a kiss to your forehead. “I will make up for it, alright? I am going to keep you company. Does that sound agreeable to you?”

“Fine…” you breathed.

“That’s my good human,” Lucifer cooed, tilting your face up to brush his lips against yours. “Now, rest.”

#jayden-writes #obey me #obey me fanfic #obey me fanfiction #gender neutral reader #no gendered pronouns #no y/n #obey me angst #obey me lucifer #obey me hurt/comfort #obey me shall we date #obey me nightbringer #omswd #omswd lucifer #might not be medically accurate lol #obey me lucifer x reader #obey me hurt comfort #obey me x reader #obey me lucifer x mc #obey me lucifer x you #gender neutral mc

[vinsmokc-sanji]

“I can teach you if you’d like”.

Pairing: OPLA Sanji x Reader

Summary: Sanji finds out you've never been kissed and he's a very eager teacher;

Word count: 1.6K;

Rating/Content Warnings: PG-13; AFAB reader, cigarettes, alcohol consumption;

Author's note: Ok, so... this might turn into a series with Y/N asking Sanji to teach her his ways. I'll see how I'll feel about it, but please: give me your feedback!

“I cannot believe that, Y/N!” said Sanji in a mocking tone, while ducking a punch that would’ve hit him square in the jaw if you two weren’t sharing a bottle of wine while on the crow’s nest as that was the only place that seemed to be away from Zeff’s eyes and gave the both of you at least a little sense of . “I cannot believe you’ve never kissed anyone!”.

“Shut up, you jerk! Not everyone is a whore like you” you replied through gritted teeth. Being the only girl at the Baratie, you dealt with more than your fair share of thirsty boys (and men), so no, you never had that sort of interaction before as overall the amount of attention you normally get was off putting. But of course, that’s what happened when Zeff wasn’t around; if he even though one of the guys was crossing a line, he wouldn’t hesitate to kick someone off the boat in a heartbeat. That little nugget of information about yourself was something that you’d never voluntarily tell, especially to Sanji, but the little wine you had before made your tongue looser than normal.

“And not everyone is a prude like you” the blond replied with shrugged shoulders; unlike you, Sanji tried his way with literally every single female humanoid he laid his eyes upon.

You frowned. “I’m not a prude, I just… got overwhelmed by you guys annoying me all the time. And now I’m too self-conscious of being bad at it, or awkward, or gross, or something like that, so I guess I’ll just never do it and die an old maid” you said dramatically, sliding down the wall in the way only a dramatic woman in her early twenties could. Sanji snorted and sat down by your side while precariously holding the bottle in one hand and placed his free hand on the top of your head. “C’mon Y/N. I’m giving you a hard time but it’s not that big of a deal”.

You rolled your eyes and shook your head, forcing Sanji to remove his hand; “Yeah, sure, it isn’t. Guys don’t even want to sleep with a girl if she’s a virgin as they don’t want responsibility, let alone deal with someone like me. No one wants to deal with this sort of baggage… and it’s fine, really. It doesn’t bother me”.

It was very clear that it did, in fact, bother you.

“I can teach you if you’d like”.

Sanji took a deep breath; the fact that he had a major crush wasn’t a secret to anyone at the restaurant and the wine you had shared was making him a bit bolder than usual.

Of course, he flirted with you every chance he had; but Sanji was highly aware of the line he couldn’t cross and that you mostly saw it as playful banter instead of actual flirting. Both of you had your dreams; you wanted to take over the Baratie when Zeff decided to retire, Sanji still nurtured his wishes for the All Blue and neither of you were going to allow anything to get in the way and you were so focused on your  own goals that you were constantly pushing yourself too hard to the point of exhaustion and getting an earful from Zeff after a handful of particularly hard episodes.

The blond had a shaking smile on his lips; enough to claim he was joking if you were offended, but your big doe eyes looked up at him in an unexpectedly eager way. “Really? You wouldn’t mind?” you asked, clinging on his sleeve as you shifted your position, now kneeling on the ground and staring at Sanji; “Please?”

Sanji felt his heart stop for a second, as he’d never imagined this situation: you, on your knees, asking for him to touch you. As much as he wanted this, he didn’t feel like that would be the best option given that you were both slightly drunk (and the romantic in him didn’t want your first kiss to be a sloppy drunk make out). Sanji knew that the jerk side of him would be kicking himself in the morning, but he just couldn’t do it.

“Sorry kitten, no way. I guess that’s the wine talking… talk to me in the morning and let me know if you’re still up for it, ok? For now, I think it’s best if we went to our individual beds, by ourselves”.

You were now pouting and whining, but still managed to get yourself up from the floor and leave back to your room, still pouting and dragging your feet. Sanji stayed out there for a little longer, trying his hardest not to chase after you, smoking one cigarette after the other.

***

The next morning, Sanji was a bit afraid of how things would go with you — he guessed you’d be embarrassed and avoid him, but you were just your regular self: sassy, animated, cheeky and efficient in the kitchen. Even though his mind kept going back to the crow’s nest situation, Sanji managed to keep his cool and muffle his frustration. As much as he hated to admit, he wanted you to remember last night. He wanted you to, again, beg and pout and whine wanting his lips on yours.

But he still thought that turning you down was the best option for both of you.

The Baratie had a regular day — as regular as a day in the Baratie can be. Sanji kept a close eye on you, but it was like last night had never happened. He tried not to let the bitterness get to him, but he was a little disappointed and upset; as soon as he could, Sanji escaped from the kitchen and climbed to the crow’s nest by himself so he could light up another cigarette and overthink.

Sanji was so lost in thought he didn’t hear you creeping from behind him and almost dropped his cigarette when he felt you tapping his shoulder. You couldn’t help but laugh softly at his over reaction, ignoring the indignant look Sanji was shooting at you. “What? What is it that you want, Y/N, that’s so important for you to nearly kill me?” Sanji had absolutely no bark behind his words, and you knew that.

“Is your proposal still on?”

Again, his heart stopped; he couldn’t feel his hands shaking slightly, and his whole face felt like it was burning. “Wha-what proposal?” Sanji asked, hoping to gain time and composure. “Don’t play with me, little eggplant. You know what I’m talking about” your pink ears and the fact that you were not able to keep eye contact assured Sanji that you were being serious.

“You mean it?”

“I mean… yeah. I came out here looking for you, didn’t I? It’s better if it's with you and not some random guy…” You looked embarrassed, avoiding Sanji’s gaze and fidgeting with your fingers; Sanji couldn’t help but feel his heart swelling by how endearing you looked right now. Without even realizing what he was doing, Sanji tossed his cigarette to the side and closed the distance between the both of you, grabbing your face with both of his hands and forcing you to look up to him. “Then I need you to look me in the eyes and tell me you really want it, Y/N”.

“Please, Sanji… Kiss me?”

Sanji hesitated for a split second before lowering his lips to meet yours; he could feel your trembling breath fanning his face, count every single eyelash that adorned your eyes and he could feel your perfume in such a way that he felt like he was drunk all over again — vanilla, almost like he was inside of a bakery.

When your lips touched, Sanji felt himself melting and he felt dizzy; his head was spinning and his stomach was exploding with butterflies, his heart felt like it was going to burst out of his chest and his fingertips were trembling on your cheeks. You were hesitant, taking you a few seconds before shyly embracing Sanji’s neck with your arms, pulling him closer.

Instinctively Sanji’s hand made their way to your waist, feeling the warmth of your skin under the thin blouse you were wearing. He had to make a conscious effort to not cross any boundaries as he didn’t want to scare you or cross a line, but it was hard to keep himself grounded when he started hearing the little content noises that were coming out from the back of your throat.

When you feel Sanji’s tongue touching your lips, your knees stop functioning for a moment and Sanji has to hold you tight so you won’t fall. His confidence and cockyness kicked in, and Sanji quickly had you pressed against the half-wall of the crow’s nest, his hands now seemingly all over you: your neck, your hair, your face, your waist; your head was spinning and now you had your hands tangled into Sanji’s hair, you could taste the cigarette he was having and that mixed with the expensive cologne he always wore made you feel like you were having a fever dream. You could feel yourself getting hotter by the second, and it felt like Sanji weren’t close enough to you.

Reluctantly, Sanji holds your face with both his hands and pulls away; he needs to take a deep breath and regain his composure. You whine, trying to pull him back so you can kiss him again, but Sanji merely kisses your forehead and brings you into a hug, tucking your head under his chin.

“There you go, princess. That was your first lesson”.

#one piece #fanfic #sanji #vinsmoke sanji #black leg sanji #opla sanji #sanji x reader #sanji x you #sanji x y/n

[goobyngreedy]

Introducing my Hazbin Hotel Au where Angel Dust is an overlord! The main differences mostly have to do with these 4 so I did a little drawing to show their respective character changes!

1.) the first and biggest difference is that Angel Dust is an overlord, and the vees arent. Angel Dust still made a deal with Valentino, but when he became friends with Charlie, she told her dad all about Valentino and he "disposed" of him. It wasn't hard for Angel to gain power after that using the skills he learned in the mafia.

2.) Eventually without all their additional income and power they had from Val; Velvette and Vox soon make deals to keep some sort of power, and that just so happens to be Angel they made a deal with. Vox outsmarted Angel a bit by making him think he was getting a better deal only owning his soul half the time.

3.) Husk also ended up making a deal with Angel rather than Alastor (which Angel actually won by cheating the whole time)

4.) Angel owns a club in place of the Voxtech tower, called "The Angel's Wing" and it is by far the biggest and most popular club in the pentagram. This club has a lot of different schemes and business practices going on behind the scenes.

5.)Husk is a bartender there at night, and was tasked with playing rigged card games with drunks at the bar to rack up cash. In fact the entire staff is compiled with scam artists. Angel will do anything to make money.

6.) Velvette has quite a few jobs, always with a headset on and by Angel's side as a sort of assistant. She also makes the outfits/costumes for some of the staff at the club. She always seems to appear right at the right or funniest time, which quite annoys Husk, but they are kind of friendly.

7.) Now Vox's whole deal is a lot different than the others. Since he has a looser contract than the other 2, Angel has to compromise on some things, and one of them is how Vox uses his surveillance. Vox usually works in the surveillance room, with a mic to assist the staff on what is going down, who is ripe to be scammed, and sometimes even let them know exactly what to say to get new clientele. However Vox also has a tendency to Pester another overlord, Alastor and Angel ends up having to clean up messes for him, and suck up to the other overlord, which makes him harder on Vox than the others.

8.) Just so you are all aware I AM IN NO WAY MAKING AN AU WHERE ANGEL IS AN ABUSER. He still has his trauma with being owned by someone and because of this he is one of the more remorseful and less violent overlord. He mostly deals in hustling/scamming, and prostitution where the doesn't mistreat the workers.

That's all!!

#huskerdust #hazbin hotel au #hazbin hotel fanart #hazbin husk #hazbin hotel #hazbin art #hazbin angel dust #angel dust #overlord angel dust #hazbin au

[inoreuct]

thinking about zoro noticing sanji being more restless at dinner one night. he’s imperceptibly frazzled, perfect suit a little less put together, tie looser around his neck and carrying a barely-noticeable tremble in his fingertips that isn’t usually there. zoro’s noticed him eyeing the bottle of sherry on the countertop whether he himself realises it or not, and the realisation dawns on zoro that the damn cook needs a break.

he of all people knows how sanji pushes himself too far— maybe not physically, but he will blatantly ignore burnout and mental fatigue until it eats away at him enough that he’s forced to stop, whether by the crew’s efforts or his own oft-disregarded limitations. it’s a form of undeserved self-flagellation that makes zoro want to punch a wall but sanji can’t know he cares, no, because 1. the cook won’t take well to being “mothered” (cue zoro’s eye roll) and 2. they’re supposed to be rivals. hello.

so after dinner he tidies the galley to sanji’s exact specifications (which he just,,, happens to have memorised, alright, stop making a big deal out of it. he knows all his nakama’s routines. shut up.) and finds the cook on the deck, liquor in hand, telling him that luffy had asked him to. he snags the sherry from sanji’s slender fingers so that the cook doesn’t drink too much too fast. he feels sanji struggle with words and leaves the space around them empty so that the cook can fill it as and when he sees fit.

it’s the least that zoro can do, he thinks. holding space for someone he cares about because he’s never been good enough with words to fill it himself, but sanji’s never seemed bothered.

zoro lets slip something that he doesn’t think about, the words natural as breathing, tries not to freak out about it, and takes his spot in the crow’s nest so that his cook can rest.

i wrote this properly in sanji’s pov and it’s here, by the way. if you even care.

#i’m kidding i love yall #the linked work’s a bit of a style study and a bit of angsting sanji for fun because i just can’t help it #he has so many issues i wanna pry him apart like a clock and find out how the hell he ticks at all #realising now that that sounds vaguely psychopathic but. can’t very well write about this curly swirly mess without losing your mind a bit #one piece #zosan #roronoa zoro #black leg sanji #zoro x sanji #sanji #one piece zosan #one piece sanji #one piece zoro #zoro

[fourbrickstall]

Such a stunning set! LEGO Dungeons & Dragons: Red Dragon's Tale by fan designer Lucas Bolt (what an awesome name too).

I got to shoot this set early for LEGO but it'll be available to everyone on April 4 IIRC and April 1 for Insiders.

Obviously I had to lug this model outside for a proper environment. It wasn't as tedious to carry than it was to keep the parts from breaking off here and there when I set it down.

There are lots of small parts that are only secured by a looser clutch jumper plate.

Thankfully, it's a ruin so anything slightly off is not that big a deal.

Anyway, a new home for my 60+ custom medieval fantasy minifigs that I created over the years. I'll share those again and shoot more in this set.

#lego #lego photography #toy photography #medieval #medieval lego #medieval fantasy #dungeons and dragons #dnd

[piosplayhouse]

My headcanon that I personally believe is 1000% right and that I will never let go of is that sy's biggest tell for not being sj is that he never gets quite used to dealing with the super long hair and elaborate hairstyles so he just fudges it a majority of the time before Binghe starts doing his hair

It was unfortunately covered by the ears but sj's hair is tensely pulled back on all sides of his head to form a tight topknot whereas sy's bun is much looser and unstructured (he woke up and put his brown hair in a messy bun etc) and he clearly didn't comb his hair to make the initial ponytail for the bun extra tight

#inspiration drawn from MY OWN LIFE ♥️ #i think sy would get a crazy tension headache if he tried to do sj's perfect topknot #like people talk about how if he was shorter pre death he mustve been running into door frames after transmigration #but can we talk about how his neck mustve been dying with the sudden addition of like 5 feet of hair #PLUS THE GUANS AND SUCH #the longest my hair has ever gotten was chest length and even then it kept getting tangled on doorframes and shit #imagine going from default chinese 20yr old haircut to rapunzel in one night #svsss

[wannaeatramyeon]

Hello it's the vegetable fic person here and- and- if you want could you write something about lookism guys finding out that their s/o is skipping their meals due to busy schedules or whatever 😭

Literally do not know why my asks revolve around food. I'd like if you include gun and jake but I literally leave it upto you love u

Hey vegetable anon! FINALLY getting round to this! Sorry for the wait!

Lookism x Reader: You, too busy to eat

G/N. No TW. Gun, Jakey, Goo, Sammy

Your boyfriend is concerned.

Skipping the odd meal, forgetting to eat, day dictated by a busy schedule - they get it. Except they have noticed this developing into a bit of an ongoing habit, one that is unwelcome and they wouldn't like to encourage.

They've also taken note of the way your clothes hang a bit looser, your cheeks looking a little sunken, and the dullness in your eyes.

They'll have to take matters into their own hands.

Gun Park

Gun learns a lot of new things, a lot about himself with you.

He never used to care about other people, least of all their diet.

After all, why should he? Even when his duties include being Crystal's bodyguard, what she got up to is none of his concern as long as she was safe.

However, with you, that's a whole other story. Whenever you're feeling sad, down, out of sorts. Gun feels a prickle of unease, affecting him until he finds out how to make you smile again.

And when your smile does come out, directed at him, because of him, he can barely describe it. Something not even the thrill of a fight can touch. Like being bathed in sunlight, directly touched by the sun's caress.

His sentimentality is something new he discovered too.

Gun peers down at the food order in his hand as he strides towards your home. All your favourite dishes from your favourite restaurant.

He's not sure he completely likes his softness with you, but as long as you do, he can't bring himself to mind.

Jake Kim

It starts with pursed lips and worried eyes, Jake's hands roving over your body.

Of course he thinks you're beautiful and as long as you're healthy and happy, it doesn't matter.

The worry is that you're not healthy and happy, that you're not eating out of stress. That whenever Jake has the time to cook for you, you will demolish every crumb in sight.

It's all the other times when he's too busy.

The solution, devised by Jake, is a revolving door of Big Deal members at your front step. At regular intervals with your favourite snacks or breakfast, lunch, dinner whenever your boyfriend can't make it.

.

.

"Morning, Y/N. Boss says hi!" Jason hands over a small container of food.

.

.

"Favourite snacks for boss's favourite," Brad grins at you.

.

.

"Jake says he'll see you tonight," Jerry averts your eyes, cheeks dusting with pink at the implication.

.

.

"Boss says," Lineman grimaces, staring to the heavens and wondering why this is now his life, "he loves you and to eat well. Rest well."

After a pause-

"Jason," Lua chides, barely able to keep the smirk off her face, "What else?"

Lineman flushes crimson, hand clenched white knuckled around your food," If you don't then... he said he'll make sure to...," Seriously. Fuck his life. "-punish you."

Goo Kim

"Say ahh!" Your boyfriend holds the spoonful of rice up to your lips. How on earth he has even made a game of this you don't know.

You keep your eye on him but turn your head away. "Goo."

"C'mon, do it for your Goo Bear."

"..."

"..."

He's not grinning. Not his usual slimey smile, not even his soft lift of the lips for you.

He's also not affecting his faux pout. Where he juts out his bottom lip and pleads with large eyes.

That unfortunately for you, he quickly learned that he will get his way 99% of the time.

Instead all you get are brows furrowed with worry and an expression that's trying to be joyful but doesn't fully mask the apprehension.

It's jarring whenever you get a glimpse of Goo's genuine concern, and touching too. Your boyfriend must really be worried about you to put up this whole charade.

Fine. You give in.

Opening your mouth just wide enough, "Ah-"

Goo breathes a sigh of relief, "There we go!"

Samuel Seo

The alarm on his phone vibrates.

Samuel excuses himself from the meeting, ignoring the disapproval radiating from Eugene. It doesn't matter. Some things are more important.

You pick up only after a couple of rings.

"Hey Sammy," A nickname that he at first hated but absolutely loves now. How could he not when you say it with such affection?

"Y/N," and even saying your name relieves some of his stress of the day, "Did you remember to eat dinner?"

"Yep!"

Samuel hears the smile in your voice. You're never annoyed with his calls, with him asking the same questions. You understand it only comes from a place of concern, a place of love. The way he calls you, like clockwork, despite his hectic schedule makes your heart hurt.

"I made some extra for you too!"

Samuel peers through the boardroom window. The figureheads sitting there, discussing something or another. He used to relish being a part of this, dream about one day ruling over it all.

Yet now, all he can think about is wanting to be with you.

He responds simply and honestly, "I can't wait to see you tonight."

#lookism #lookism x reader #lookism webtoon #lookism manhwa #lookism fic #gun park #gun park x reader #jake kim #jake kim x reader #goo kim #goo kim x reader #samuel seo #samuel seo x reader #wannaeatramyeon

[jet-teeth]

Specifically relating to my latest post, but in general also: I feel like my attention span has gotten so bad these days in terms of actually finishing anything, to the point that the deflection/procrastination-projects get as silly as "builds a whole-ass 3D model instead of finishing the goddamn drawing because that's somehow easier than dealing with the perfectionism demon hovering over my shoulder when I draw these days"

(I think this why I'm trying to chase looser styles/play around with traditional media here and there again, since anything too precise starts to activate the Overthink Demon. I guess what I post is "oops! All sketches" anyway, but a lot of things still get overworked. Probably should start using timers again or something idk) Rarely do I actually "finish" models as well, which is generally why I don't post any (they are almost always studies/character reference models) but let's see if I can get around to making some Printable Little Guys this year, since frankly I find 3D a more comfortable medium to work in than outright painting/doing rendered-out stuff

Ramble post, but I'm always interested in the topic of "process" when it comes to art, and how struggles & limitations might actually help an individual find what their strengths really are too (or, just reveal areas that need more work. I DO want to finish a couple of the paintings in my WIP folder, but I also have accepted that it's not gonna be the natural medium for me ever) (I always try to include art in long text posts like this so they aren't as boring. Have a Banana Cat drawing I never uploaded. Also yes the printer HAS been added to my enclosure and it's great fun :> )

#jet squawkings #Jet art #IDK what the heck it is these days but Art Is Hard #might have something to do with the medium involved + always figuring/remembering more things out about how my brain likes to work #(being a strongly spatial thinker paired with aphantasia is a really funny combination) #(but I think it might partially explain why the “Pain” in PAINting is real whereas Making Shapes in Blender is super zen for me) #Head Full Many Thoughts about the whole “aphantasia” topic as well but I might save that for another post #long post

[image-thot]

Throw Him Off His Rhythm: Mirage x Reader

Fandom: Transformers Rotb

Summary: After getting caught and subsequently losing a bet he made to his human, Mirage now finds himself having to follow through with his end of the deal.

Words: 1,517

Warnings: Masturbating, handjobs, Sub/Dom, orgasm denial

A/N: The reader is written as gender-neutral. I did indeed spend a little time today figuring out an average size estimate for how big a cybertrionians spike would be (more specifically Mirages) relative to them and their humans because I needed something to like visualise or something. Can’t lie I may be on my way to making a table of transformers and how big their spikes are, if you by primus wanna see that let me know XD

Enjoy the fic.

"Shit. Shit. Shit." The string of curses leaves Mirage's vocaliser as he awkwardly shimmied down the narrow alleyway.

"Why'd the perfect spot have to be so fragging, hard to get to." Mindful of his finish he carefully squeezes out of the alley into the outdoor courtyard. 

Sure it wasn't the nicest looking or biggest of hiding spots, but it was private and quiet. Panelling sliding open as he sits on the ground, leaning back against the brick wall he sighs in relief as his burning spike pressurises already dripping transfluid.

"Frag finally, for a second thought I was going to burst a line." Servo quickly dives down to wrap around his spike and he bites back a moan as his servo begins to stroke at a fast pace, aching to relieve the burning pressure.

"You couldn't wait until after the meeting?" Helm hitting the wall behind him as he groans, of course it couldn’t and you knew that all too well otherwise you wouldn’t have followed him out here.

Although amusing at the time making, a bet to see who could go the longest without needing to fuck or masturbate wasn’t his most brilliant idea. In his defence he thought humans weren’t capable of going more than a day let alone a week without having to self-service themselves, all but certain he’d have the win in the bag.

It didn’t help him that you’d poke and provoke his imagination, you’d butter him up with your sweet words which had done more than just stroke at his ego. Not-so-subtle innuendos had on more than one occasion almost had his interface panels sliding back, it’s a miracle he had managed to last this long.

“Obviously not.” Servo still stroking his spike as he speaks optics looking everywhere but your eyes, he doesn’t need need to look at your face to see the grin that spreads across it. “I can see that but aren’t you forgetting something?” Your words tease him as a huff of annoyance leaves his intake, slowly making your way over to him you lean against the wall next to him.

“Fine. Fine. You win. You a human can outlast me a cybertronian. Happy now? Cuz I could really use some help.” Continues to stroke his spike as other servo reaches out to grab you, when you quickly dart out of his reach a whined gasp leaves him.

"W-what? Come on you can’t be serious.” You chuckle at his needy response no doubt in your mind that if your roles were reversed he would have teased you.

“But didn’t you say the winner could order the looser around for an entire week?” Smugness dripped off your words as you watched his frame slump forward, a defeated sigh leaving him.

“Yeah, but I thought you’d just wanna be on top or something. Not like. Not like leave me hanging.” Sending the best puppy dog eyes he could muster your way, hoping you’d cave into his needs.

“Mirage. You wouldn’t be trying to go back on your word, would you?” A fake look of disappointment briefly covers your face as carefully move around his legs coming to a stop by his pedes.

“What!? Of course not! I mean, after so long I figured that you'd. You know, wanna fool around." Servos still as he watches you contemplate and tries to stop his legs from bouncing impatiently as he waits for your response. A devious look spreads across your eyes as you walk between his legs, hand coming up to trace between the seams as you move closer.

"I suppose, a little fun now wouldn't hurt. If you promise to stand by your word and do exactly as I say." Missing the dark edge of your words as he moans out a string of yes. Now standing in front of his leaking spike you give him a playful smile as you tap the servo that had slowly resumed its stroking.

"Servos by your side's big boy and no matter what. You don't touch me or your spike." Words are spoken as if you're sending him into battle, your hands gently caressing the metal and seams around his heated array.

"Sir yes sir!~" The chuckle he lets out after his own words are cut off by a soft moan and his servos drop-down like rocks off a bridge, digits grip the ground as your breath fans over his spike.

"Good." You hum as one hand trails up to his spike while the other continues to tease the wires between his seams.

Your eyes watch his faceplate like a predator, his optics offlining and scrunching up when your hand delicately runs up his spike. Shifting your gaze back down to his spike,  your fingers briefly graze over the tip blue biolights pulse at the touch and a gaspe escape his intake. Fingers move back down as your hand begins to slowly stoke easily gliding thanks to all the pre-leaked transfluid.

"Frag." A moaned whisper breaks from him as his hips twitch and he desperately holds back from thrusting them into your hand.

A chuckle escapes you, eyes moving back to his faceplate as they keenly watch him bite his derma as his helm hits the wall behind it. Digits dig into the ground below them, frame shifting uncomfortably as you barely increase the speed of your hand and a whine slips out and his optics online.

"Please baby. Frag you're killing me here." Optics looking down at you and he groans as a smirk briefly returns to your face.

"Aww, I'm sorry." A fake pout spreads over your face as your hand begins to stroke a little faster, eyes never leaving him as your mouth moves in closer to his spike.

"Would you like me to go a little faster?" The teasing words fan hot air over the sensitive tip of his spike and have his hips jolting up. Spike almost pushing into your mouth you move your head back with a chuckle and your hand speeds up.

"Yes! Please babes! Frag I wanna be inside you so bad!" Optics offlining as his words fall out along with his desperate moans as your mouth moves away.

Your other hand finally leaves the cluster of wires it had been teasing to wander to his spike, your thumb firmly runs over the tip and he gasps out. Frame shaking you can see the strain in his servos as he desperately keeps them from reaching out to grab you. Hand stroking faster as your fingers tease around his leaking tip, whined moans leave his vocaliser as he approaches his overloaded and you bite your lip holding back your own moan.

"Frag babes I'm so close! Frag yes. Yes." The words fall freely from him as his spike throbs, biolights pulsing quicker as he almost reaches the tipping point of his pleasure and just like that your hands pull away.

"What?! Frag babes you ok? I'm almost there." The desperation, confusion and slight concern are evident in his voice as his optics look down to identify the reason for your sudden lack of touch.

When his optics catch the devious smile spread across your face as your hands link behind your back, the realisation of your motives slowly comes to his lust-filled processor.

"No please! You can't! Babes come on. Just a little more! Don't leave me like this! I-I'm almost done then- you can ride my face place however long you want after! Please." Panicked and pleading for you to tip him over the edge, his legs shake and servos hit the ground in frustration but never make any move towards you or his spike.

The pleasure that surges throughout your body as you watch him in such a state of need and want, you almost want to jump on his spike then and there. Unlike your partner, you have a lot more self-restraint.

"I said I'd have a little fun. Nothing about letting you overload." You hum out enjoying the look of needy frustration that covers his faceplate.

"Come one. Babe's I've been good! I-I didn't touch-." His babbling words are cut off by your own stern ones.

"Good and you'll keep it that way." Smirk dissipates into your normal loving smile as you shift from between his legs.

"What no!" Shifting to his knees as you continue to walk into the small alley. "You can't leave me like this!" 

"I think I will." You muse out as you wave your hand for him to follow. 

"Perhaps I'll change my mind a little later. Until then we've gotta get back to the others." You call out from the end of the alley, not missing the small sob and whine that comes from him as you make your way back into the building.

"This is going to be so much fun if he can keep his servos away from his spike." You think to yourself as apologize to the others for your brief absence, trying to hide your smirk when a rather tense and twitchy Mirage tries to sneak his way back into the building.

#transformers #x reader #smut #reader insert #transformers mirage x reader #transformers mirage #mirage x reader #rotb mirage #mirage x human reader #mirage #rise of the beasts #mirage rotb #tf rotb #tf mirage #transformers rotb #oneshot #transformer drabbles #drabble

[aclowntiny]

Good morning/evening 🥳🤩

Can you do ateez reactions when they loose a bet with their s/o? (Any type of bet and of what the looser has to do) 💖💖💖

Call Your Bet!

Hello friend, hope you like this variety of bets 😘Warning: varying levels of suggestive (never explicit as always)! Sorry for late post here, I have covid 🤪🤙🏻

Hongjoong

Insinuating you knew the guys better than their leader was, in fact, fighting words, but you didn’t care. It was fun to tease Hongjoong, though perhaps it had gotten out of hand.

“I bet you you don’t know them all,” he challenged you, arms crossed.

Exhaling, you felt your posture drop. You weren’t afraid of a little betting, it was just that you were with a man who had expensive tastes. “What are you wanting to bet on this?” It wasn’t even that big of a deal, just that you could remember all the Ateez members’ drink orders.

“Hm,” he put a finger to his chin, gazing at you playfully, “how about a massage?”

Your eyes perked back up at that, a smile creeping onto your lips- that you could do. Gladly. A bet with no punishments was certainly not what you expected. “Of course. Let’s go.”

~

“Wow, how’d you know what we wanted without asking?” Yunho inquired with a smile.

“I just know you guys that well,” you replied, gaze sliding from your friend’s wide eyes to those of your incredulous boyfriend.

Hongjoong for his part glowed with pride. For all his bravado, it did his heart good to see you caring for some of the people he loved most. Laying a hand on your shoulder, he pulled you closer. Your heart settled warmly…at least until he leaned closer and whispered in your ear.

“I’ll show you later why I feel like I won.”

Seonghwa

“There’s no way I’m losing at this!”

“Come on, I know exactly what he's going to say."

Goofing off with your boyfriend, you'd made a bet that you knew how Hongjoong would reply when he entered the room. Seonghwa, of course, insisted he knew his best friend better and thus came the agreement that the winner would choose the next couples' day activity. Likely a movie or a new lego set if Seonghwa was the victor.

“There’s no way if you tell him we’re going to be making a mess in here the first thing out his mouth won’t be ‘no’ or ‘don’t you dare’!”

“Well, I think he’ll at least ask what we’re doing first.”

Seonghwa’s mouth opened, but footsteps at your back cut his chance of a snappy retort. The doorknob clicked as the man of the hour entered the room, greeting his friend first, then you with faintly pleased surprise.

“Hi, Hongjoong! Is it ok if we kind of make a mess in here?” You asked him innocently.

Ateez’s leader instantly arched a brow at you, glancing between you and his best friend. “Doing what? Are you tearing the whole place up?”

“Oh, like your reforming doesn’t do that,” Seonghwa teased him with a little shove.

For your part, you just pointed at him. “That counts! That counts though!”

“Yeah, you were right.”

Hongjoong’s smile fell. “What did I do?”

“We’re not actually making a mess,” you replied with satisfaction as you glanced between both men, “I just get to give Seonghwa a makeover now.”

Yunho

When Yunho invited you to game with him, he’d expected you to get competitive within the actual realm of the game itself, but alas. You taunted him with bet after bet until he finally agreed, sealing, well, someone’s fate.

“I bet I’ll win.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah. I bet the hoodie I will.”

He turned to face you with a look of exasperated amusement, hands leaving his laptop keyboard. “How can you bet my hoodie?”

Yunho had one hoodie you’d been desperate to steal ever since he first lent it to you. It was the most amazingly comfortable oversized dream of a garment and it was even your favorite color. Many a joke had been made in light of its wonders.

One corner of your mouth tilted up as you gave him your sassiest little head tilt. “You know how.”

You saw a look flash across his eyes ever so briefly, his most YA shut-up-make-me look, but then it faded into pure smugness. “Alright, fine. If you want it so bad, you’ll have to earn it. Ready, babe?”

All you could do was grin and ready your own screen, swiveling to face it. “You know it.”

~

“Well, I’ll be. Hiding was your whole plan?” Yunho’s look of equal parts frustration and awe as he spun in his chair to face you furthered your victory high, raising your smile and speeding your nod even more.

“Well, it was a survival match,” you reminded him with a shrug, “now pay up.”

Shaking his head fondly at your grabby hands, Yunho rose, stretched, and crossed his room to the closet, where he extricated your precious trophy and tossed it to you with a playfully voiced “Catch!”

Squealing with joy, you sat up to do just that, all but cuddling the garment to yourself as you savored the feel, the scent.

As he sat back down in his gaming chair, your boyfriend leaned against his desk with a soft smile. “Man, if I knew you were going to be this cute about it, I would have just given it to you.”

Hey, at least he got a kiss for a consolation prize.

Yeosang

“I’m going to find it first!”

“Says who?”

“Says me! I’m always lucky with these sorts of things,” you told your boyfriend.

Strolling across a green field had somehow turned into a competition, not that you regretted it as your heart sped a bit at the excitement and your chest burst with chuckles at the skepticism on Yeosang’s face.

Four-leaf clovers struck your fancy as you’d strolled, waving greenery reminding you of old tales of luck, not to mention childhood experiences searching for them and calling yourself a leprechaun if you found one. Thus bargaining with Yeosang for a pot of gold of your own.

“Loser buys dinner!”

At that, your boyfriend pouted. “I was going to buy dinner.”

“Then you better lose,” you winked and ran past him, bending over to scan the widespread greenery for wondrous irregularity.

Out of the corner of your eye you see him bend his knees too, stepping forward in the comical waddle you were surely mirroring. Trios of leaves danced in the breeze before your sight, drawing your focus such that your vision began to blur-

There! You had no idea how many minutes had passed, but right as your knees began to ache and the clover growth had practically burned its pattern into your vision, a beautiful variation to it all. A four-leaf clover.

“Found one!” You exclaimed in triumph, plucking it for proof.

The wide-eyed look on Yeosang’s face alone was priceless, the shocked smile slowly spreading across his… wait a minute.

“Did you lose on purpose?” Hand on your hip, you fixed him with an accusing look.

Batting his eyelashes innocently, he singsonged, “Maaaaybeeeee….”

“Hun,” you sighed.

He stepped closer, taking hold of your shoulders. “I just wanted to spoil you, what can I say?”

“Alright, sweet-talker,” you shook your head, leaning in for a quick kiss.

San

“So you think you can beat me at my own game?”

“Yes, obviously, that’s why I’m betting with you,” you teased, sticking your tongue out at San playfully.

Your boyfriend had taken you to the amusement park and you’d endeavored to see who could go the longest on the biggest roller coaster without screaming.

Pulling you into his chest, he shook his head with amusement. “So the loser buys the winner a souvenir?”

You nodded into his shirt, stepping forward in line.

“Sounds good to me. You’re on.”

“You’re going down.” Even as you chugged to the top of the most massive hill you’d ever been on, your eyes were locked firmly upon San’s sculpted profile, the way his fell back onto you as he turned.

“I’m sure I am,” he replied right as your car began its descent.

The moment the momentum started he threw up his hands and let out a loud whoop. You laughed despite the wild hoot it came out as, fixing San as best you could when a sharp turn threw you into his side.

“You didn’t even try!” You shouted over the wind’s exhilarating rush.

San grinned against the assault of air. “I want to buy you stuff!” He exclaimed triumphantly as you sailed down the next smaller hill.

Mingi

Corny as it may have been, you guys decided to try one of those couples’ bets where you see who can go the longest without touching the other. You had bragged enough about it being easy that if nothing else, your pride was at stake let alone any penalty.

You weren’t the type to play dirty (in this case literally or figuratively), so for the most part you just went about your day, though you had worn Mingi’s favorite outfit on you and you couldn’t help a faint smirk at the way his eyes traveled up it.

“Ready for the first movie, hun?”

“Yep!” For all his wandering eyes, your boyfriend had relegated himself to the furthest edge of the couch where he sat straight as a pin, hands folded in his lap.

With a snort, you chose the middle cushion, placing yourself just out of his reach and crossing your legs. “Popcorn?” You held out the bowl in your hand.

Narrowing his eyes, he leaned forward and curled his fingers around the top edge to lift it from you. “Nice try.”

You shrugged. “I’m just trying to enjoy the movie. You gonna be ok with this one?”

“Yeah,” he replied between crunching mouthfuls of popcorn, “of course I am, why?”

“I dunno,” you answered in a faint singsong and batted your eyelashes innocently, “it’s a pretty romantic movie.”

“So what?”

~

So what indeed. You heard the springs of the couch before anything, turning more out of curiosity, but you barely had time to register a single sight as Mingi surged forward and yanked you into an electric kiss in time with the main interests’. His hands slid from your shoulders down to your waist, your hips, as you metaphorically shook off your surprise and responded.

“To hell with the bet,” he said as you pulled away, satisfaction joining the smattering of red across his face at your smile.

“You won’t be saying that when you have to do whatever I say for a day,” you reminded him.

“Maybe I like that punishment,” he shot back with a shameless smile, returning to his sweet laugh the moment you playfully shoved him.

Wooyoung

“You’ve really never tried this before?”

“When would I get a chance to?” You countered, shifting beneath the sheets to face Wooyoung.

“I dunno,” he shrugged, leaning just inches from your face as his voice lowered, “you tell me.”

You accepted the kiss before you spoke, smiling into the shocking passion of it and leaning in deeper before you finally broke it. “I’m not exactly the ‘stay in bed all day’ type on the average day.”

“I know,” he leaned over you with a grin, “that’s why there are stakes. Last to get up and you get to pick how we spend the afternoon.”

“Or evening.”

His eyebrows shot up and down. “Or evening.”

You laughed and gave him a little push away, but he came right back forward to wind his arms around your waist. “There’s no way we’ll stay down that long. We’ll have to eat or, you know, go pee or something.”

“Not if we keep busy enough to forget.”

You didn’t disagree with the logic there, but he still got a light smack with a pillow.

~

“You know what?”

Wooyoung pressed even closer to you- if that was even physically possible. “What?”

“You’ve got me on your side now. This day’s been almost perfect.”

His eyebrows raised at that as he searched your gaze. “Almost?”

“Yeah, it’s been great,” you replied, giving him your most earnest eyes.

“But what could make it better?” He urged you, one of his hands finding yours.

“I’m just thirsty is all.”

Over a drink, yet his stare was so intense, eager. “I’ll get your favorite.”

“No, you don’t have to do that,” you told him.

“Anything for my darling.” Pressing a kiss to the back of your hand, Wooyoung rose from the bed, pulling on his robe. “I want to.”

“Ha!” You exclaimed. “Sucker! I can’t believe that worked!”

Realization hit him like a ton of bricks, widening his eyes and slumping his shoulders. “Oh, shit.”

“I win!” You cheered, raising your hands above your head.

He crossed his arms and stuck his tongue out at you despite still crossing the room to fetch your drink. “Whatever. We were probably going to pick similar things anyway.”

“True,” you giggled, rolling your eyes fondly, “but I’ll find a way to make it interesting, don’t you worry.”

Jongho

He started it, teasing as ever and confident in his victory if his crossed arms and prematurely triumphant smile said anything. Leaning against the counter, he’d briefly enjoyed your amusement at the apple he’d snapped in half for you before speaking.

“Bet you couldn’t break me one.”

“What,” you’d just teased, “getting tired of being the strong man?”

“No, it’s nice to be powerful,” he grinned shyly, “but I’ve just never seen you try anything like that before.”

You’d seen it done by ordinary folk before. Sure, why not? It was Jongho’s shtick and you never moved in on it, but if he asked, so be it. Reaching over to your countertop basket, you curled your fingers around one’s shiny red surface and straightened. “What are you betting?”

“Hmmm,” he paused, dark eyes drifting upward in thought, “a massage?”

“So boring! I want you to watch my favorite show with me!”

“All of it?” His eyes widened; his fingers flexed faintly against the counter. “How many seasons is that? Isn’t that a lot for one apple?”

“Alright,” you stepped closer to teasingly nudge him, “fine, first three episodes, then you can bounce.”

“Not that I’ll need to. Begin,” he urges with a grin and a wave of his hand.

Again, you’d seen this done plenty of times. One trick you remembered was to roll your thumbs when you squeezed and twist opposite directions- right? You liked to think if Hongjoong could do it, so could you, not that he wasn’t fit. If you had half the pecs he did-

Snap! Ok, guess it was opposite directions, because with a kickback of your hands you felt the pressure of a tear and saw two distinct halves, one upon each palm. Your smile rose dramatically like The Grinch’s as your gaze slid back up to meet Jongho’s.

“So…wanna make some popcorn?”

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