#like when i figure out where the colors are supposed to go

[formosusiniquis]

have your cake

So way back in August 2023 the steddiemicrofic challenge was Cake and 311 words, my head empty brain came up with one thought and it was Steve Munson having a bakery called Mun's Buns and so many months later I finally got around to finishing my vision

Ships: Steve Harrington/Eddie Munson; Tommy Hagan/Carol Perkins; implied/past Tommy Hagan/Steve Harrington/Carol Perkins WC: 6408 | T | tags: Future Fic, the lightest of post homoerotic friendship breakup angst, fluff, Tommy POV AO3

The bakery has a stupid name, is the first thing Tommy thinks when Carol tells him where he's supposed to meet her on his lunch break. He’s still thinking that, when he sees the place for the first time through his rain speckled windshield. It's a modest storefront, small for what Carol says is a booming business, tucked in next to a used bookstore and a music shop. There's a baby yellow awning hanging from the front just underneath a sign lettered in soft blue that reads Mun's Buns.

He's late, is the second thing he thinks after pulling up. Caught up in some stupid bullshit for his dad he hadn't managed to slip away until 12:30. Even then it had only been because Tommy had told him he was going to be late for their cake tasting. He'd rolled his eyes when his father and Greg, a guy that Tommy only considers a co-worker in the sense that they are technically on the same payroll since Greg in every other aspect is incompetent and an idiot, had winced. Shooing him away like a kid who'd just admitted that he's already twenty minutes past curfew. But catching sight of the way Carol has her arms crossed, tapping her foot fast enough to kickstart a motor, while her hair hangs limp in a way that it hadn’t this morning a third thought crosses his mind: maybe he should have been a little more worried.

Waiting isn’t going to make things any better. So he steps out of the car, let’s the misty damp cling to him in a way that makes his dress pants and button down feel like a poorly tailored second skin, and takes his licks like a man. "Late, thirty minutes late. Christ, it's the only thing I've asked from you Tommy." Her right hook stings just as badly as it did sophomore year when she punched him for asking out Erin Murphy instead of her.

Shit like that is probably why no one expected them to make it this long or this far.

When they went away to college; different schools, hours apart. His parents had been gleeful as they'd warned him that high school relationships didn't always last. That he should keep his options open, he didn't want to miss out on the love of his life just because of comfort. He didn't get offered the family ring when he decided to propose right after graduation. Carol has always been particular. Wanted the house to come back to before the wedding could happen, wanted a long honeymoon. That meant saving, a lot of it. Tommy knew and Carol did too, they'd overheard his mother and aunt gossiping in too loud voices after too much wine that they hoped the long engagement meant they were both trying to figure out a good way to break it off with one another. 

Still, over the course of their now five year engagement no one's asked once if they wanted to trade for it.

Carol thought it was horrendous anyway. She’d had her ring picked out since ‘85, styled her class ring so it would look like the oval cut diamond she wanted. Had him slide it on her finger the second it came in.

Cause in the politest of terms, Carol could be a raging bitch. She was Tommy's favorite person in the entire world.

There’s going to be a bruise on his shoulder tomorrow, even if she’s guiltily smoothing a hand down his arm now. Thrust toward the door first in offering, Carol is sorry she hit him but she’s not apologetic. “I’m serious, Tom, if we lose this appointment and have to go with Sweet Treats for our cake I'll- I'll-"

Whatever threat she was preparing is drowned out and then cut off by the echoing TONG of the door chime. A light in the back shifts color for a second, out of place enough that he wonders if he even really saw it. Head tilting toward Carol, his question catches in his throat when he notices her pinched off appraising. Better not to add to the ammunition she might already be building.

And if Carol is looking he better do it too. She'll want to debrief when they're having dinner tonight, just like they did with the florist, the caterer, the three wedding planners they'd met with, and each of the venues that they'd visited. And it wasnt because she was demanding, fuck you Greg. It wasn't because she was being nitpick-y, alright it was a little bit because she was but he liked being particular with her. He liked being involved in his wedding.

So he looked around.

The way they utilized their space -- a building that big and there's barely enough room to stand, we want someone who knows how to work with limited space for the venues we're looking at -- was the reason their first wedding planner hadn't gotten hired. Small, but not cramped. There are a handful of tables scattered in the open space in front of the counter. It’s the kind of small town cozy that Hawkins had tried for and he doesn’t see very often anymore now that they’ve moved out to Indianapolis.

It’s lunchtime, still too early for people to be seeking out the rows of deserts in their neat glass counter and too late for the breakfast crowd. But one of the tables is occupied by a teenager with long, black braids scribbling in a notebook while a slice of ice cream cake melts on a plate by her elbow. 

Everything was neat, organized, and compliant with health code regulations -- they hadn’t even made it in the door of the first caterer’s when she noticed a trail of ants and roaches marching into the open kitchen door.

Carol had always been quick when she was making up her mind about something. Like those Sherlock Holmes stories they’d had to read in school, in a couple of seconds she could spot everything she needed to make a decision. After a decade Tommy still couldn’t keep up; but he was always best at following someone else’s lead.

The smile she’s got frosted across her face is as sugary and fake as the roses on the cupcakes he can see behind the low topped counters as she approaches the only visible staff member. A girl, young in the way that nebulous way anyone younger than him was now, with thick squared glasses that magnified two distressingly blue eyes. The counters looked like they were designed to sit low enough that she could easily see over the top while in her wheelchair.

“Welcome to,” her customer service tone borders on bored. Two words into a clear script and she sighs, as if saying the name physically pains her, “Mun’s Buns. We’ve got a special series of summer flavors: Strawberry Lemonade, Lavender Mint, Chocolate Fudgsicle, and,” she sighs again, “for the grownups a boozy Blue Moon with orange zest.”

“How about a wedding cake.” He’s impressed. Carol made it through the speech without interrupting.

“Do you have an appointment?” the girl raises her voice, enough to make them both flinch back. Customer service isn’t a requirement for this part of the job necessarily, but Carol had bailed on two venues because the staff hadn’t been polite enough.

Her smile doesn’t crack though, “Yes.”

Even though he’s pretty sure this girl has to be basically blind with the inch thick frames, she levels Carol with a lethal stare. “Not you.”

From the open entryway behind her Tommy had been able to make out what sounded like the highlights of yesterday’s game. He assumed that space had to be the kitchen where these rows of deserts were made. He’s still surprised when a guy’s voice is shouting back, “I don't know, Max, do I? Why don't you check?”

“How am I supposed to do that?” Max shouts back, glowering at then in stand in for her mystery boss.

“With your finger, asshole. It's in braille. When I gave you this job you said you were actually gonna work.”

“Douchebag." Her eyes never leave them, while her hands rummage around in a space beneath the counter where the cash register sits. Max offers no explanation or apology for her shouting or for her boss. A large red appointment book gets slammed down on the nearest counter, making Carol jump but the neat two by twos of chocolate frosted cupcakes don't budge. He watches, a little fascinated by the way her finger scans the page before slowing. "Did you write this or did Dustin?"

Carol has always valued gossip over professionalism, he thinks that’s why she’s done so well as a hairdresser even though she was always awful at chemistry. It’s also why he’s held off from pointing out that they could solve this a lot faster if this guy would come out from the back. "Why?" 

“Cause one of you can't spell and one of you is trying to invent braille shorthand. So I'm not really sure what to do with TomGan Wed.”

“It might be Thomas and Wedding.” Carol leans over the appointment book as she says it, using a tone of voice he has never once heard her use in the entire time he’s known her. He thinks it’s supposed to be helpful.

“Wedding sampler.” The girl calls toward the back, “It's getting late.”

“I’ve got it,” the voice from the back shouts back.There’s an effortless assurance Tommy can hear from where he’s standing. It hits him with a wave of nostalgia so strong he grabs Carol’s arm on instinct.

“Really,” she says, cutting her gaze over to him. He’s not sure what she sees. “If we could hurry this along, it's just we've only got an hour.”

“You're late.” The glare she gets shuts Carol down faster than he’s ever seen.

“Right.”

“Okay I've got it.” The voice from the back is now the voice in the doorway. Hidden for a second by a serving tray loaded with samples of rich looking cake, it’s the first time since arriving that Tommy has actually wanted to be here. Not just because he can make out strong shoulders and a body of a man that’s still very fit but clearly enjoys his work too; the hint of love handles above strong thighs. Only then that tray dips, and for the first time since 1985 Tommy finds himself looking at the shocked hazel eyes of Steve Harrington. “Oh.”

Carol reacts for him, taking in a breath sharp enough she might puncture a lung. They’ll both wind up suffocated on the floor of this stupid bakery with an awful name, because Tommy can’t manage to breathe at all looking at Steve. Still unfairly handsome, faintly pink at the shock of seeing them too he imagined.

His hair is long, is the first real thought his half fried brain manages to put together. Soft looking even where it’s damp at the temples where sweat has pooled. He has it pulled back with a couple of the same butterfly clips that Carol likes to use.

His second, somehow more hysterical thought: this wasn’t how Steve Harrington was supposed to be included in his wedding.

Tommy was six years old and knew he wanted to marry Steve. When he’d told his mom -- to ask for her ring, Steve thought it was romantic like princes and princesses that they had a special ring that they got married with -- she’d grabbed by his arm so hard it’d left finger shaped bruises. So he’d held that certainty quiet in his heart until he was ten, and suddenly it was okay to want to play with girls on the playground -- he thinks it’s because Steve got tired of there never being an even number when they tried to play kickball, he had a way of making everyone want to do the thing he was. Carol wasn’t afraid to tell Tommy C. that he was dumb or to tell Mark L. that he hadn’t actually made it to the base, Steve liked her fast. Too fast, and Tommy had to tell her that one day he was going to be able to keep Steve all to himself. But he knew that it wasn’t right to say that now, even if he wasn’t all the way sure why it wasn’t. He was ten, but he would be eleven soon, and he took this part of him that he’d kept secret for so long and he whispered it to Carol under the slide while Steve tried to convince Brad P. that he could too pick two people for his kickball team first.

He was ten and Carol said they could share. Boys can’t marry boys, but girls can. So they could both marry her and live together forever.

It became a joke when they finally shared it with Steve, thirteen and boys going out with girls wasn’t funny the way it used to be. Sarah Jane asked Carol if she had a chance at going steady with Steve. She told Tommy about it later and they both told Steve that he was too good to date any of the girls in their grade. “Well I’ve got you guys,” his voice cracked when he said it, throwing an arm around both of them. Carol didn’t care as much, but even she’d noticed the way Steve was changing from boyish to handsome.

They were sixteen and disaster was just around the corner, not that he knew that. Steve dated around but he always came back to them. The head, the heart, the body. They don’t feel complete without each other -- at least Tommy doesn’t. Mr. Kripke, who was hungover more often than he wasn't, passed out ten minutes into study hall. Carol didn’t even wait to see if he’d wake back up before she left her assigned table for theirs. She smoothed out a lined piece of notebook paper for them, and Tommy scoffed like he was supposed to. “Aren’t we a little old to be playing MASH?”

“It’s dirty MASH, and I thought you’d think it was funny.”

“I think it’s funny,” Steve had said, “that you’re getting eiffel towered on your wedding night. Who else is joining in, Carrie?”

“We couldn’t agree on who got you for their side of the aisle. So we’re taking you to bed instead.”

He was sixteen and the way that the two of them looked when they shared a joke was the hottest thing in the world. The way their smiles mirror when they turned to him, sharp and ready to flay open the softest parts of him.

Tommy’s two days older when Steve lets him kiss the taste of Carol out of his mouth.

It was three days after he turned seventeen and he had to pretend he didn't want to die when he saw how Steve looked at Nancy Wheeler. Like he didn’t want to rip his hair out because Steve was fucking infatuated with this mousy little teacher’s pet and wouldn’t even look at him anymore.

He still doesn’t like to think about the breakup. He pokes it like a fresh bruise. Less often now, but when he does he digs his fingers in. Baits Carol into fights he doesn’t mean just so he can pretend like he hasn’t lost something that hurts like a limb.

Steve Harrington turns twenty-eight next week, and he’s standing in front of them both holding pieces of what might turn into their wedding cake.

“Wow I can’t believe you’re in Indy!” False excitement grates, but at least Carol has gotten herself together enough to speak. He thought he’d have at least another few months to prepare for the thought of seeing Steve, by their ten year reunion he was going to be married and happy and over it.

“Yeah, this is- Married, wow! I kinda can’t believe you haven’t already.” He says it to Carol, his platitudes had always been for Carol, but his eyes find Tommy. 

While Carol chatters at them and for them both, nervous, he knows she’s nervous. The situation is sudden and strange and fraught. But Tommy just looks at Steve, who looks at him. He’s getting married in three months, one week, and two days from now and for the first time in eleven years Steve is looking at him.

"Takes a while to save up for when you want the best of everything. Dad's still the skinflint he always was, I think he'd pay me less than minimum wage if he could get away with it."

And those soft brown eyes look so sad, looking at him. Sometimes he thinks no one will ever understand him the way that Steve did.

"There's nothing wrong with wanting the best, or having a long engagement." Carol defends. It's the same line she's been giving everyone. Defensive of him and herself and the choices they've been making. He can't believe Steve is someone she thinks they have to defend against.

“I really hope you're happy, man," he says, and the sincerity is a balm on the sting of this conversation. He pushes his hair back from his face, the way he always has when he's uncomfortable and trying not to make it obvious. And there's a fresh new hurt when Tommy catches sight of a plain gold band on Steve's finger, shining bright between the golden highlights of his hair.

“I’m happy about this,” he can say honestly. Carol is one of the only things he’s ever been sure about. She held him steady as she could when his other sure thing left him with a cracked foundation in a convenience store parking lot. “What about you? How long after meeting the future Mrs. Harrington did you wait to put a ring on her finger?”

“Tommy,” Carol chides as the teen in the corner snorts. To anyone else it would sound like a reprimand for being nosy, he, and he suspects Steve, knows she’s telling him to stop worrying a scab that has no hope of healing right.

Married and they didn’t know. Wouldn’t have found out until the reunion. It’s not like he expected an invitation, maybe an engagement announcement sent to their parents’ houses. They’d sent one to Loch Nora when the real ring had finally made it to Carrie’s finger. It was equal parts olive branch and offering. They’d gotten it back return to sender with no forwarding address.

The bell above the door tongs again, loud enough to make Carol jump. The platter of cakes doesn't shift at all in Steve’s hand. His arm shows no sign of fatigue. It’s almost distracting enough that he misses the obvious. The bell signals someone is coming into the store.

“Sorry, Sweetheart. I know I said I wasn't gonna be late but Mike…” There just inside the door is the Freak. Undeniable even with his head down as he digs through his shoulder bag. From the riot of poorly maintained tangles that still hang around his shoulders to the expanded mess of tacky ink on his arms. The only thing that’s changed is the age in his face and the band on his shirt.

“Munson?” Carol has the reflexes and the personal grace to address him first. Shock more than the disgust it might have been when they were still kids.

Tommy feels like a kid still. Looks to Steve in an instinct he’d thought he’d stamped out years ago, only to be met with wide eyes and teeth grit tight enough to draw out the square line of his jaw.

“Christ, I still get nightmares that start like this.” Munson says, eye darting between the three of them. “Max, am I naked?”

“Don't know, don't wanna know.”

“I thought you'd be able to tell by the energy in the room.” He wiggles his fingers, still bedecked in silver, like they can divine the vibrations or some witchy shit.

That’s enough to make Steve break just a little. A soft, exhaling scoff before he finally starts to move out from the counter. Tommy catches, and he doubts Carol misses it either, how Steve passes the closer tables to set his tray down between them and Munson.

“I can tell I don't want to be here for this.” Their redheaded audience member says, “I'm taking my 15.”

“Don't go harass Mike, he's finally working,” Munson says.

“Will and El are on shift on the other side,” Steve calls out, not looking at any of them as he moves cakes from his tray to the table. A deliberate selection he seems to be making.

“Whatever, I’m gonna call Lucas and break up with him so he can play better or whatever.”

“Don’t be too harsh,” Munson calls out, “I’ve only got him on a five point spread.”

If Carol’s nails break from how hard they’re digging into his arm, somehow it’ll be Tommy’s fault. Not the fact that they’ve advanced the worst part of their ten year reunion by months, and also Munson is here and knows shit about basketball.

“Sorry, think my hearing’s going, sounded like you said you want him to lose and he’s getting kicked from the next one shot. I’ll let him know.”

“She gets that from you,” Steve and Munson say in sync. Glaring playfully at one another the way Steve used to with Carol.

“I’ll tell Robin you were-”

“Do not sick Buckley on me, Max made the deaf joke not me.”

“Weird, that’s not what I heard.” Steve has always claimed his hair as his best feature. It isn’t -- Carrie liked his eyes, Tommy his hands -- but it’s hard to deny that it doesn’t look good, flipping over his shoulder. His smile is private, just for Munson, soft the way he got whenever he picked up a new girl. Carrie taps the back of his hand, two sharp smacks, their signal for years that he needed to pay attention and notice something she had. Wide, nervous eyes dart to Steve -- like he hadn’t already been looking at Steve -- so he does his best to assess the way Carol would.

Jealous, viciously, Steve had been theirs in every way that mattered since they were ten years old and Carol had never liked sharing her toys with anyone but them. She watched his face for any sign of unhappiness anytime a new girlfriend came along, and when she found one she passed it along to him. So he could pick and joke until Steve was all theirs again.

So he checked the face. Tried to ignore the way Steve was lit up from the inside out with a joy he could barely remember, and then he saw the hearing aid.

He tapped back, three times. O.M.G.

“The 1985 Homecoming court here to reveal that this has all been a long con, Stevie?”

“Yeah I faked the name change paperwork and picked up a fake ID, sorry I took my business somewhere else.” Steve says it with the sincerity he’s always made those kind of jokes with, his strange sense of humor never coming across when he always sounded so serious. 

Munson gets it though, snorts loud and ugly, before a smile pulls wide across half his face the otherside taught with a gnarly scar. “Now I know why my fake ID business went belly up when we got to the city, not like I only sold three in high school.”  He gestures to the three of them in a wide arc.

Sophomores, they had decided it was time to throw their first real party now that Steve’s parents had moved out of Hawkins in all but name. Steve was a latchkey kid of new proportions and took to self sufficiency in a way that had seemed adult to him then; and in hindsight looked more like a child fighting for his life. Steve bragged how he’d been saving up the weekly checks they’d sent to ‘sustain him’ while they worked in the city during the week. His contribution to Tommy and Carol’s vague plan to throw a kegger by the pool. When they’d floundered, immediately, with the hows, Steve had been the one to suggest going to Munson.

“Love this preview of the reunion,” Carol cuts in, there’s no bite but Munson bristles anyway like she’s being rude for reminding them that there are customers present. “Steve?”

It’s funny, Tommy thinks, the way Steve still straightens his back at Carol’s tone. All this time and he can’t fight the old ingrained instincts either.

“Dustin made the appointment,” Steve apologizes, even as he’s posture perfect and preparing his pastries. The unsaid, ‘I definitely wouldn’t have’ doesn’t go unheard and it doesn’t sting any less even this far from their last interaction.

“Munson could join us,” Tommy offers, a new olive branch since their last one was never seen. Even if it does raise three sets of brows and makes Carrie’s nervous smile tighten even more in the corner of her mouth.

“Well at least one of us has to,” Munson, Eddie, says. Just says, tone like it was meant to be something said under his breath.

He's grown up a lot since high school, they both have. Still, he's only got twenty minutes left on his lunch break and it's been a long day. "God, is that why it's called that?" Growth, he doesn't say that Steve Munson sounds a lot dumber than Steve Harrington.

"It's charming," Carol and Steve both say. Though Carrie is definitely lying and Steve barely gets it out from between his gritted teeth, a sore spot. He's always been good at finding Steve's bruises.

"It's charming," Tommy agrees, like he always did when he was out voted.

Eddie has a smirk spread across his face and a ‘too proud of himself’ look in his eyes. Mouth open to make some quip that Tommy is going to pretend is funny, for Steve’s sake. Now that they’re here, he’s going to do something to show that they could talk to one another again. Steve clicks his tongue, taps his index and middle finger down to his thumb two quick times before he can.

He turns to the girl in the corner, "Erica, scram, go help Robin and the kids with the new donation that just came in."

The teen continues to scribble in the notebook in front of her, bulky headphones over her ears, she makes no sign that Tommy can see that she's heard Steve speak. "Erica, go, or I'll tell your mother you moved out of the dorms. You're 20, it's not child labor, and you've got a timecard."

She sighs and wordlessly packs up her things, she gives Steve a scathing look that takes Tommy back to high school. The withering eyebrow and rolled eyes would have been just at home on Steve’s own face in 1985, but she marches behind the counter, the sound of her dish rattling in the sink before she disappears out the same door that the redhead had gone out.

Now that the room has been cleared, an awkward silence has found the space to squeeze in. Munson, the original, still standing in the doorway and Steve standing between his unlawfully wedded husband and the two people who had lost their chance at him years ago.

The wedding and the reunion both on the horizon had dredged up a nostalgia that Tommy and Carol had been dealing with in their own ways. Dredging up old yearbooks, Carol had found a shoebox of old notes that she’d kept. Conversations written in three different inks by three different hands, nonsensical after all this time. Tommy woke up from dreams that he hadn’t had in years. Always of Steve and Carol, a study in opposites, but similar where it mattered.

“Well,” Steve says, taking charge of the situation like he always would when the other two faltered, “you’re here for a reason. We might as well get started on it.”

Steve’s fingerprints are still on them, just like he’d noticed theirs on him, molded as they were together. They’ve always bowed to his expectations, and his whims. When he ushers them to the table with a spread hand, Tommy and Carol go where they’re beckoned.

And so does Munson.

They keep an empty chair between them, an artificial divide for Tommy’s sanity, but with the sprawl of Munson’s legs their knees still occasionally brush together. Carol had taken the spot closest to Steve, who has stayed standing. He is their gracious host, marking the head of the round table.

“I pulled out the full sampler before I realized it was you,” Steve says. Even with as off balance as the interaction has felt, Tommy doesn’t feel his hackles raising. While it’s possible he’s gotten more subtle with his digs, Steve’s vicious tongue was usually unmistakable. “I can tell you about as many of them as you want though if you want to pretend like we don’t already know what I’ll be making you. I’m sure neither of you have eaten lunch yet.”

“You are going to take us on?” Carol asks. Shock always gives her tone an extra edge, defensive and catty, even if she’s really just waiting to see if another shoe will drop.

“Obviously,” Steve says, placing a faintly orange square of cake in front of her. He slaps Eddie’s hand away from another piece without looking away from either of them. “That’s as far as I’ll be going in participation though.”

He doesn’t miss the way Steve’s mouth twitches up with the joke, a filthy smirk that leaves Tommy flushing hot. Too warm to not be a bright and obvious red at the acknowledgment of that old private in-joke.

It doesn’t get better when Carol moans, “Oh my god, Steve!” Even if it is about the cake.

He laughs, and Tommy suspects the two are actually trying to kill him. He chances a glance over at Munson who looks like he doesn’t care at all that his husband has made Tommy’s fiance moan. He is watching Tommy though, an inquisitive look like the one Carol gets when she happens to catch a nature documentary.

“Yeah,” Steve agrees with Carol, “I’ll do something small with that citrus cake for you and Tom so you’ve got something you’ll actually eat on your wedding, maybe a pineapple buttercream on top like that nasty Juicy Fruit gum you like so much.”

“I mean it’s really crazy how you’re so good at this when you’ve never had any taste,” Carol compliments, she never did learn how to be nice.

He could probably count Steve’s teeth in the answering smile. Tommy can feel it like an ache in his chest how much he missed this. He snatches another cube of cake off the tray just so has something else to focus on.

“That’s the fancy one for the people who hate their guests,” Munson says as the cake has settled on the flat of Tommy’s tongue.

“It’s lavender,” Steve corrects, and the floral flavor is lodged in the back of his throat at least gives him a reason now to feel so choked up. “And it is for a particular sort of bride.”

“Are you saying I’m not fancy and particular, Munson?” Carol asks. 

She’s obviously talking to Eddie Munson, who lifts his hands up in answer. But it’s Steve who says, “If you tried to feed that to Gail she would leave the reception bitching the whole time.”

“Well go on,” Tommy finds himself goading now that he’s swallowed, “finish calling your shot, Stevie. You said you knew what we were walking out of here with.”

Carol reaches across the table, locking eyes with Eddie as she snags the piece closest to him. The one his fingers had been inching toward like he thought Steve wouldn’t notice him trying to take it.

“I’ll make a small citrus cake for you, Carrie, we’ll hide it in the back of the larger cake so you can get the pictures of you cutting it and smashing into each other's faces-”

“We will not be doing that,” she interrupts, the warning for him and also unnecessary. He already knows how she feels about being embarrassed in public.

“Then the big cake for your guests will be a chocolate cake, I can cover it in a buttercream or a fondant icing also chocolate, because it’s the only kind of cake the Hagan family will eat. Even though I’m sure John hasn’t given you a dime for the wedding, he’ll complain until Hannah gets married if he doesn’t like the cake.”

“Really,” Steve continues, “the only thing up in the air is how many people you were able to get away with not inviting, Care.”

The two of them start talking actual wedding logistics, and as Tommy grabs another bite of cake -- this one looks like it might be a normal flavor -- he figures the real show of good faith would be talking to the only other person at the table while he eats what Steve correctly dubbed his lunch.

“Y’know he never actually answered me,” he says in an undertone.

Munson seems surprised at being spoken to, only widens his eyes in response to Tommy’s unasked question.

“I asked Steve how soon after the first date he proposed, he never actually answered.”

Eddie softens at the edges before he can even say anything. Steve had a way of doing that, bringing out the romantic in a person. He loved with a passion that demanded it be matched. “Technically I proposed to him, but he says it doesn’t count because we weren’t together and I was high on morphine after a major surgery and thought he was Apollo, come to whisk me away.” The smile on Munson’s face looks dopey and drugged up now, like the very memory of whatever hospital stay is so ingrained in his mind he can feel the high now.

“But,” he goes on, “he told me we were getting married whether it was legal or not about three months after he got legally married to another woman.”

“Stop,” Steve has always been able to sense when he’s about to be the butt of the joke. He has a finger pointed at Eddie like a teacher delivering a lecture. “You can’t tell people that. It was for tax reasons, I’m not cheating on my wife.”

“You say tomato, I say whichever one of us is your least favorite has to be the extramarital affair.”

“I say, you’re the most obnoxious person I’ve ever met.” Tommy can hear the warm affection behind the insult, the way their picking is a safer way to express their passion for one another.

He thought he would be jealous of whoever finally managed to reel in Steve Harrington for good, and he is. The emotion is there, present in the snarling tangle of emotions that this encounter has left in him. One that he and Carol will have to slowly tease and pick out tonight when they’re home in bed. Trying to make sense of what each thread is and what it means for them. But the one bright pulsing thread he can make sense of is happiness. He’s happy for Steve, happy that he gets to see an old friend so at ease and obviously cared for.

And he’s sad that his time is up, his lunch hour so close to an end he’ll be late getting back to the office. Something he can already hear his Dad and fucking Greg giving him shit for. Which means they have to end their time here.

Steve walks them to the door, flips the sign to mark them closed for lunch.

“Congratulations again, you two,” he says, “I really am happy I can get to be a part of this with you all. Even if it’s a little different than we used to imagine.”

Carol reaches out for the both of them, puts her hand on his arm. Tommy finds that he’s the one who actually says, “We’re glad you found someone who makes you this happy, dude. You deserve it.”

“Yeah, he’s alright most of the time.” It's said with such fondness it becomes a declaration. It’s hard to imagine how they thought they could ever be the something that could make Steve this happy. But maybe in a different life, under different circumstances it could have been.

There’s a minute where they all stand in the doorway. He wonders if they’re all afraid that this might be the last time they see each other, speak to one another, until Steve is delivering the cake on the day of the wedding. Maybe it’s just him, he was the one who pushed back the hardest after things ended.

Someone finally gives in and pushes the door open. It’s TONG a death toll for their current conversation. But it also sends a jolt through Steve, he straightens to his full height like a shock has gone through him. “Here,” he says, “here, um.” He digs around in his apron until he finds a pen and a receipt pad. Jots down something before tearing it off and putting it in Tommy’s hands, “It's our home number, in case you have any cake emergencies or something.”

They really can’t stay any longer.

Carol takes the note, better at keeping track of these things than Tommy is. It’s hard to know if they’ll actually use it, maybe after they talk about it, but if they do she’ll be the one to do it. She’s always been braver than him.

There’s no way of guaranteeing anything but the fact that they’ll have a cake on the table on their wedding day. But he hopes that Steve might stay for the ceremony once he brings it, he can even bring Eddie if that’s what gets him there. 

Alone in his car, Tommy lets himself take a minute to think about Steve Harrington one last time. He isn’t going to get what he wanted as a kid. Doubts that he’ll ever be as close to Steve as he’d been in childhood, too much time has passed and too much has changed.

But there’s an opportunity to get to know Steve Munson, and he isn't going to pass it up. Even if he doesn’t know how to name a bakery.

#steddie #steddie fic #implied past stomarol #Baker Steve Harrington #my fic #tommy x carol #tomarol #genuinely don't know what their ship name is I'm sorry #future fic #the author is experiencing some complicated emotions about their 10 year reunion and this is now the second fic I've posted this year- #-that's mentioned one so clearly forcing fictional characters to emote about it for me is not working #the terrible trio do own every business in the little storefront Tommy mentions and they employ the kids who they have a stable income- #-while they work on their passion projects

[quesadilla-day]

sword dance ⚔️

#kunikuzushi #genshin impact #scaramouche #art #mine #the colors started out just as contrast blocking whatever it's called #like when i figure out where the colors are supposed to go #but i really dug the combo so it stayed!! #chief!!! there's a little dancing man on the roof! he broke into the sword cabinet again!!! #oh cripes oh geez oh man alive #this is the third time this month!!! #chief!!! the shogun's son is on the roof! (what's he doing there??) a sword dance!! #idk if this is acreage at all. #what is a sword dance #just had a lot of fun with the pose is all

[todayisafridaynight]

matrophobia

#rgg #ryu ga gotoku #ryu ga gotoku 7 #yakuza series #yakuza like a dragon #yakuza 7 #masumi arakawa #masato arakawa #snap sketches #oh my god im going to pass out but my tag ramble is necessary. like especially this time #i was just gonna draw his Actual mom but then i wanted to get saucy with it. also i miss drawing wolves but theres a purpose i promise #ive loved wolves since i was a kid since theyre like. family-oriented and shit. of course a lonely loser ass kid gonna think thats cool #when i think of wolves i think of family- which is what you should think of with your mom right #but a lot of people know wolves are monsters so. ysee where im goin with this one #the flowers and thorns arent Just Random i Double Promise: i snagged inspo from her flower shirt #i originally had the roses be purple to highlight that buuut i didnt want any more color aside from red #did i have anymore notes..... i dont think so. thats all i had to explain :) this is mid ik i just needed it done tho im TIRED #OH HER MULTIPLE EYES its supposed to be inspired by her necklace :) the third eye has a purpose im too tired to explain rn tho #the jo alternative was more depressing since i wanted to put emphasis on his feelings of inadequacy in that #BUT i figured hey. let me have a /lil/ happiness today right. i can do that at least let me draw that at least #ignore the fact i got more bad news while drawing this and almost abandoned it as a result but we push through :) #in any case. im subjecting arakawa to more horrors tomorrow i guess sorry king youve had it good too long. i GUESS #to round this off. Obligatory Vent Portion because myyyyy GOD. i have nightmares about my mom every night #its been that way since like. february- ive always had nightmares bout her but theyve ramped up since The Event #and for the most part i just wake up tired and despondent but sometimes the nightmares just make me wake up gasping for air #like i was TRULY just fighting for my life then and itd been a while since i had a nightmare like that #and just. coupled with how trash my months been. and now that im comm free.(dm me;) ) i figured id express the soul a bit #alright NOW im done. im pretty sure. goodnight everyone come back for part ii of. whatever this was #IM ALL OUT OF TAGS NOW LMAO THATS EPIC ok bye fr

[cozage]

It's me again, feel free to ignore this if you're only taking 1 request per person

Congrats on 2k followers ♡

I would like to request, option 1, the reader asking "can I give you a kiss? If you don't like it, you can can return it" with Zoro, Sanji and Luffy (if you can also with Law, Ace and/or Kid)

Thank you in advance, hope you have a lovely day ♡

Nonsense! If you send it in and I like it, I'll write it! This was a fun request too :) I would've done them all if I had the time <3

Characters: gn reader x Zoro, Sanji, Luffy Total word count: 740

Returned Kisses

Zoro

“Zoro!” you sang, skipping across the deck. “I have a question.”

Zoro groaned. Your questions were never as simple as you initially made them out to be. 

“Can I give you a kiss?” you asked, your cheeks turning a cute rose color. “If you don’t like it, I can return it!”

Zoro scowled at you, trying to decipher your strange slew of words. “How do you return a kiss?” he asked. He set down the weights he had been using, trying not to sound too interested. 

“I guess you’ll just have to see!”

His eyes scanned the ship. There was nobody else around. And he had to admit, he was curious how your lips tasted. 

“Make it quick, then.” He sighed, trying to act as if he were apathetic to the whole idea, but his pinkened cheeks did not go overlooked. 

Your lips pressed against his, and he could taste a distinct sugary sweetness Normally he hated sweets, but he found it quite enjoyable upon your lips. 

When you finally pulled away, he quickly wetted his own lips with his tongue, desperate to get another taste. 

“I think I’ll return it,” he said, looking at you. 

“Oh.” Your shoulders slumped in defeat. “Not very good then, was-?”

He pushed his lips back against yours with a sort of desperation and hunger that you weren’t expecting, and your mouth fell open in surprise against his. He quickly pushed his tongue past your lips, hungry  for more of your sweetness. 

When he finally pulled away, he shot you a cocky smirk. “Maybe you should try again later. I might not return it next time.”

Sanji

“Sanji!” You opened the swinging door to the kitchen, searching for him. 

“Do you need something, my love?” he asked. “Whatever you want, I will gladly give you.”

“Great!” you smiled. “I was thinking I could give you something, though.”

“Me?” He looked around the room, trying to figure out what you meant. 

“Yeah! I was thinking I could give you a kiss,” you offered. “If you didn’t like it-Sanji!”

The poor cook had collapsed to the ground, sent into shock by your offer. He seemed to be mumbling and babbling words, but you couldn’t make them out. 

You knelt down next to him, pulling his head into your lap to make sure he was okay. 

“Oh, Y/N love,” he whispered, finally coming back to his senses. “I had this strange dream where you offered to kiss me.”

You laughed. “I did offer to kiss you.”

His eyes were suddenly clear now, and very focused on your lips. So you bent down and pressed them against his own. You could hear his breathing become shallow, but you steeled your nerves and stayed there for a moment before you pulled away. 

“If you don’t like it, you can return it,” you whispered. 

Sanji’s eyes were practically hearts as he stared up at you. “Can I still return it even if I did like it?”

You giggled, crinkling your nose as you laughed. “I suppose so.”

“Good!” He reached up and pulled you back down to him, keeping his lips pressed into yours until Luffy ran into the kitchen looking for more food. 

Luffy

“Luffy! Come here!” you called up to the captain. He was in his seat on the figurehead, like always. 

“You come here!” he yelled back. Rubber arms extended towards you and whipped you up next to him. “What’s up?”

“Can I give you a kiss?” you asked. “You can return it if-”

His lips smashed against yours, and you could feel his mouth stretching into a smile. You couldn’t help but smile too, your head foggy with giddiness at his willingness to say yes. 

He finally pulled away from you, his laugh filling the air around you. “That was nice.”

“I was supposed to give you a kiss, Luffy!” You were trying to scold him, but you couldnt wipe that stupid smile off your face. 

“Do you want to give me one?” he asked, his eyes lighting up. “You can give me another one!”

You leaned back into another kiss, his arms already wrapped around your neck. He was trying not to be too eager, but once your fingers tangled into his raven locks, he abandoned all common sense and worked to devour as much of you as he could get.

#one piece #one piece imagine #one piece scenario #one piece x reader #one piece x you #zoro #roronoa zoro #zoro x reader #zoro x you #zoro x y/n #sanji #black leg sanji #vinsmoke sanji #sanji x reader #sanji x y/n #sanji x you #luffy #monkey d. luffy #monkey d luffy #luffy x reader #luffy x you #luffy x y/n #cozage #✧˚zoro✧˚ #✧˚sanji✧˚ #✧˚luffy✧˚

[moonstruckme]

perhaps whimsical!reader x one of the marauders (you choose) who’s being made fun of but doesn’t realize it? And they defend you or talk to you or something?

Thanks for requesting <3

Remus Lupin x whimsical!reader ♡ 745 words

Remus watches as your eyes drift out the window beside his couch.

“I think you’d like it,” James continues, unaware that he’s lost your attention as he tells you about the shop he��d gone to with Mary the day before. “They’ve got incense and crystals, all that stuff.” 

When you don’t react, Remus nudges your leg with his. 

You look at him. “Hm?” 

“That does sound like someplace you’d like,” he tries to clue you in, “doesn’t it?” 

“Oh, yes.” You give James a breezy smile. He returns it with ease, not a lick of pique about him. “Thank you, James, I’ll have to go. Where is it?” 

James’ thick eyebrows come together. “You know, I’m not actually sure. Mary led the way there and I just sort of followed, but I want to say it was on fourth.” 

You nod, and Remus smiles at your obvious expertise on the matter. He doubts there’s a shop of that kind that you haven’t been to, but you’re humoring James just to be kind. “Right, there’s a string of them on fourth street. Maybe I can ask Mary sometime and see if—oh, the fawn is standing up!” 

You grab Remus’ hand excitedly, turning in your seat to get a better view out the window. Your eyes are very nearly heart-shaped as you coo over the baby deer wobbling to its feet a few yards from Remus’ home. “Oh my goodness, it’s so precious. Do you guys see it?” 

Remus shoots James an apologetic look, but his friend smiles and shrugs it off, coming to lean over the couch beside you. 

“It is really cute,” he agrees.

Sirius laughs. “You’ve really got yourself a goldfish, haven’t you Moony?” You don’t pay him any mind, but Remus regards him quizzically. “She can’t seem to talk to anyone for more than two seconds before she’s distracted by something shiny.” 

Now, you turn, your head tilting like a puppy’s. “It’s not shiny, Sirius, it’s a fawn. Do you want to come see?” 

“It’s a figure of speech, love.” 

“Pads.” Remus’ voice is hard. “Don’t.” 

Your brows pucker at your boyfriend’s tone. “Remus,” you sound almost hurt, “what’s wrong?” 

He wraps a protective hand around your thigh, but James speaks before he can. 

“It’s nothing,” he says cheerily. His voice drops to a conspiratorial whisper. “They’re always squabbling like this, they’re like an old married couple. Best to do as I do and stay out of it.”

“Oh, please,” Sirius guffaws. “Like you’ve ever stayed out of anything in your life.” 

“I’m sure I don’t know what you mean,” James says. Remus relaxes as the beginnings of a bemused smile touches your lips. “I don’t partake in any such childish quarreling.” 

It’s only after his friends leave and Remus is cleaning up his kitchen from all the snacks they’d left strewn about, that he says quietly, “Don’t mind Sirius, dove. His sense of humor can be mean, but he wouldn’t tease you if he didn’t like you.” 

You pause sweeping up the floor, looking at him curiously. “What do you mean? I thought they were both really nice.” 

“They are,” he says, “but I just want to make sure you understand that when Sirius was making fun of you, he didn’t really mean anything by it.” 

“He was making fun of me?” 

Remus swears he feels his heart fall right out his ass. 

“Yes, sweetheart, but like I said, he was only teasing.” He gives you a small smile, but at your puzzled look, reluctantly clarifies, “You remember when he said you were a goldfish?” 

You nod. 

“That was it, dove. That was the joke.” 

“Oh.” You smile funnily, one side of your mouth quirking up more than the other. “Is that supposed to be a bad thing? I’d love to be a goldfish.” 

A little laugh startles out of Remus. “Really?” he asks.

You nod happily, resuming your sweeping. “They can see more colors than humans, did you know? And they’re really very pretty.” 

It’s all Remus can do to keep from crossing the kitchen to squish you in a hug. He’s grinning ear-to-ear. “Well,” he says, trying to match your serene tone, “then it suits you, dove.”

“I think so,” you say lightly. “You should be a goldfish too, Remus. Or actually, I think I see you more as a seahorse. We could both be seahorses, if you like.” 

“Don’t seahorses mate for life?” 

“Mhm. Suits us, don’t you think?”

#remus lupin #whimsical!reader #remus lupin x whimsical!reader #remus lupin x reader #remus lupin x you #remus lupin x fem!reader #remus lupin x y/n #remus lupin x self insert #remus lupin fanfiction #remus lupin fanfic #remus lupin fic #remus lupin fluff #remus lupin drabble #remus lupin scenario #remus lupin blurb #remus lupin imagine #remus lupin oneshot #remus lupin one shot #marauders au #marauders #the marauders #marauders fanfiction #marauders fanfic #marauders fic #marauders fandom #hp marauders

[atskiruma]

he makes you cry

expl: he doesn't usually care about others' feelings, so how was he supposed to know what he did to you was mean?

a/n: appalled that this is my first time doing my favorite geo boy, appalled and ashamed; also exhausted this might not be my best work, requests sent will be fulfilled soon, i just need some rest! just got hired at a job that i went for an interview with today, so work will slowly be coming out later and later, sorry!

ask me anything

masterlist

second-person writing no pronouns used, 2,818 words

Xiao was not fond of caring about others' emotions, nor did it ever occur to him that he should care. He tried to keep his life as simple and as peaceful as possible because he deserved it after everything he went through before. Which was why he was so confused when someone would cry in front of him. Xiao never cried when times were hard, what made those salty tears escape human eyes so easily?

Most of the time, he never saw people cry, and if he did, he ignored it. That's how he was taught to deal with emotion, he'd ignore it.

It began when you were up in your room at the Inn, minding your business and trying to figure out how to make the woven bracelet that the Traveler had taught you. Frankly, it was pretty difficult, and when the Traveler was teaching you, you were so busy watching them that you never actually learned.

The hours were beginning to fly by and you could hardly make out the original pattern you were trying to replicate. Repeated failures over and over and piling yarn began to stack up on the bed next to you. It was when you had finally gotten it down to only mess up again because something distracted you was when you finally snapped.

Throwing the bracelet across the room where it rested under the table, streams of hot tears began to roll down your cheeks in frustration. You were doing everything right, why wasn't it working!

It happened to be the same time you were leaving your room when Xiao was strolling down the hallway. The two of you made eye contact and his eyes flew to where the tears were running toward the bottom of your neck. His eyes widened only a little bit and his mouth opened and closed like a fish only to not know what to say.

You also stood still and stared at him. Why? Maybe you were just waiting for him to comfort you or you were curious about what he had to say. But when it was clear that he'd keep gapping like a fish, you started to walk off again. Only for him to grab your wrist before you made it too far and pull you a bit toward him.

"Are you okay?" He asked in a soft voice, hardly making eye contact with you and finding his shoes on the floor more entertaining. It was shocking to see him show such concern in general, but you remembered why you were upset and started to ball again. Pushing yourself into his chest and crying warm tears into his shirt.

His hands fumbled on the sides of you for a while until he rested them softly on your hips. Awkwardly patting you in a form of reassurance he'd never shown anyone before.

His face was pretty flat when you began to show signs of distress and sadness. Albedo was too focused on his experiment to even realize that something went wrong on your end. The sound of a beaker crashing to the floor sounded across the room, but he still kept looking forward, hardly hearing anything at all.

That sound kept up for a while, you were pretty sure you broke at least 5 beakers in the time it took for you to get them from the spare cabinet. It wasn't until the 6th beaker that you managed to catch did Albedo actually turn around to see what had happened.

His experiment seemed to be going fine, the color of the liquid sitting at the bottom of the beaker matching the picture right next to it perfectly. You sighed when you saw he had already beaten you to make the antidote.

"I don't know how you do it 'bedo. This one is probably the most difficult I've done." You said before wiping your forehead which was littered with sweat from how hard you'd been concentrating.

"Just try again, I'm sure you'll be able to complete it." He said, his encouraging words going little to no length and falling straight to the floor. It didn't help that the trashcan full of your previous broken beakers was so close. It was extremely discouraging to see how much damage you've caused just trying to learn how to brew the antidote.

Then Albedo took his leave, putting his things down when he realized the clock read 9 PM. Bidding you goodbye, he looked back one last time with his handle on the doorknob and spoke. "Humans sometimes do not carry the skill to complete such a difficult task, do not push yourself to do something you simply can't achieve."

And then the door shut. All you did was stare at where he previously had been, his words repeating in an endless loop shrinking infinitely into your mind.

"Huh?" Was all you said before a warm feeling rushed down your cheeks and landed on the toe of your shoes. Did he just call me stupid? You thought to yourself. The frustration you felt along with the fact that he just said that, caused a rush of salty tears to leave your eyes. Your eyelashes stuck together as tears mended them together.

You continued to stand there and cry, until the door opened again and the alchemist stuck his head back in the door, announcing he forgot something towards the floor. That was until he lifted his head up to see you standing there, crying. For once, he stood still and just stared at you unable to conjure any words for the scene he was witnessing.

The sniffles and the silent sounds of tears padding the floor were all that was making sound in the room. As Albedo continued to stare at you like the two of you were playing a game of freeze tag.

"I'm stupid aren't I 'bedo?" You said, which made him flinch when the sound of the nickname you gave him came out in a harsh and rude manner. "Too stupid to figure out the dumb potion because I'm just a mere human in your eyes."

"What're you talking about?" He said, with the quietest and most emotion-full voice you've ever heard him use. Albedo continued to step closer to you, almost as if he was never moving at all. When he finally did reach you, his hand brushed against your cheek and his eyes held so much concern it could fill up the sea.

"I don't think you're lesser than me, is this about what I said? I didn't mean it like that..."

You kept sniffling while looking at him, still stubborn for more than what he was giving you. His arms reached around you and held you close, something he often did when Klee would sob, which he learned from Jean.

The two of you stood like that for a while, until the blazing sun rested its eyes in the distance, and the sorrowful moon began to creep up the valley.

"What is wrong with you??" Tighnari's harsh voice came out in a way you only heard once in a while. His irritated look glared at you from where you stood, all you had done was knock down a few books, but it looked like other things were really beginning to upset him.

You expected to greet the forest ranger and spend some time together, seeing as the both of you made those plans a while ago, but it seems that he was really busy with something that he was supposed to finish a while ago.

He whipped his head back to look at the beakers on the table, making a very loud and audible sigh at your appearance here. "I'm busy, so make another time for..." He waved his hands around dramatically and quick, "Whatever it was you were planning and leave me be."

You stood silent for a while, shocked that he was giving you such an attitude, but at the same time, you had no idea how to respond to what he said. So, you did just that and didn't respond, turning on your heels and leaving. Unfortunately, Tighnari didn't hear you leave and assumed you were still sitting there waiting for him like usual. So when he turned around and opened his mouth to address you and apologize, he stopped in his tracks to see you weren't there.

When you saw Tighnari again, it was actually just his voice you had heard and your eyes didn't flicker to see if it was actually him. Collei was holding some sort of dinner for the forest rangers in the area, to both thank them and congratulate her for beating Eleazar. But you finally did see him when it was too late, and you were bumping into the forest ranger with food in your hands.

A shocked gasp came out of your mouth till the echoed noise of a bowl rumbled onto the ground and crashed down, the food flying along with it. Your distressed state increased, and you immediately flew down to try and clean it up.

In fact, you were so busy trying to clean the bowl of food that had spilled over that you didn't even realize the forest ranger was standing behind you with his hands behind his back. Until the call of your name was repeated for the 3rd time, did you turn around to look at him, tears in your eyes from how frustrated you were?

Tighnari's eyes widened before he immediately dropped to his knees and put his hand on your shoulder for comfort. It shocked him to see you in such a vulnerable state, especially with how cheery you always seemed around him.

"What happened? Are you alright?" Tighnari said, before moving his eyes down to the food splattered all over the dirt. You didn't even realize how much helping out at the party would stress you out. As soon as Tighnari muttered the words are you alright, tears flooded out more and more as you tried to hide your face in your hands. Your shoulders and body shook with how much you were crying. Tighnari moved closer to you and shielded you with his body.

Not only did he treat you terribly before, but the first time he sees you in days, you were crying? His heart felt like it could break then and there. His hand came around your back to soothingly rub circles on it while you continued to sob. His ears even flattened a bit on his head in guilt.

When Collei had come around the corner to see the pasta salad splattered on the ground, and Tighnari hugging you with his tail between his legs. She smiled and sighed a bit, before walking away to leave you two be.

It felt like a long time while the two of you sat like that, his hand never stopping to rub your back. You finally pulled away to look at him and Tighnari rested his hand on your cheek in a comforting manner.

"I'm sorry I treated you like that, I was irritated and you came in at a bad time. I never want to hurt you." His guilt-written face and ears practically flattened to his head making your heart beat in a painful rhythm.

"You can make it up to me by helping me clean this up?" You said as a sly grin grew a little bit on your face. He smiled back and rolled up his sleeves to begin cleaning.

Scaramouche was a mean boy, everyone knew that he had no filter and he acted as if he didn't care about anyone when in reality it was the exact opposite.

"You're pathetic!" He yelled at the top of his lungs, looking at your shocked expression and stance from across the room. You had just failed to do the task that Nahida assigned you again, and it seemed like the newly-found anemo holder was growing more and more impatient watching you fail over and over.

"Excuse me?" You spat back, clearly irritated with his outburst and pushiness. Scaramouche scoffed again before trailing over to where you were, Nahida watching the interaction from her desk.

"You've been doing it all wrong, and that pathetic idiot brain can't seem to comprehend that." His fingers flew a swift flick to your head, pushing you back a centimeter. "If you keep failing, shouldn't you be trying something else instead of pushing the same solution over and over? Moron."

His insults over and over were hurting, sure, but you were used to it. When you felt good. Right now, this was the last thing you needed after failing again and again. At one point you even glanced over at Nahida after failing and saw her face look a bit reluctant about your skills. Which increased your anxiety tenfold.

"I never knew someone could be so stupid. I even worked with morons every day in the Fatui, but none match up to how idiotic you are." Scaramouche just kept blasting insult after insult at you. What was with him today? Was he really that peeved you didn't wait for him in the morning to walk over here?

Moving aside and putting your hands up defensively, you made way for the prince and his smart brain. He moved in front of you and began looking down at what you were doing. It looked like Nahida was still working with you on Fermat's Last Theorem, which was an extremely difficult math equation, back in the 17th century. Scaramouche made a noticeable eye roll before sitting down to begin writing out how to solve it.

What he didn't see was your reaction to the last flinching insult he threw your way. He didn't witness the tears swell up in your eyes and he also didn't see you walk away and leave the sanctuary. Only witnessing your presence gone when he looked up to turn another sarcastic comment towards you. Scaramouche's eyes widened for a fraction of a second before looking around him to see where you went. He turned towards Nahida when he couldn't find you and she looked up at him before looking back down at her papers.

"Tsk, whatever." He pushed his seat back and sat up to leave, wondering what he should have for dinner instead of concerning himself with where you went. It wasn't until later in the evening when he saw you again, sitting back at the desk, not uttering an obnoxious sigh or an irritating "What does this mean??"

He eased himself over to you with his hands in his pockets before leaning behind your shoulder to see what you were doing. You were working on the problem again, but his copy of it was nowhere to be seen, that is until he looked towards the trash and saw his handwriting on the paper barely crumpled and resting near the top of the bin.

"You threw away my paper?" He said with irritation lining every letter. You kept writing though and paid him no mind. The silent treatment seemed to be really riling him up because he continued to berate you over and over as you sat there taking it and continuing to work.

It was only an hour later that it really started to bother him with you being quiet. Maybe what he said earlier was too harsh, he didn't really feel that bad, but if it meant you weren't going to speak to him then he had to do something.

Leaning over you again, he placed his hand on your upper arm, grabbing your attention from the unusual act. His eyes met yours and held the stare for a couple seconds before he spoke,

"I'm sorry." That was all he said.

You raised an eyebrow at him, before squinting your eyes in confusion and responding.

"Sorry for what..?" The sarcasm dripped from every syllable and landed on his fragile ego.

His eyes widened and he took his hand from your arm, frowning and shouting back,

"I don't repeat myself! Accept the apology I gave you."

"You're such a child, does saying sorry really hurt that bad?"

"You heard me!"

Your eyes rolled and you turned back to your paper as if you were going back to ignoring him, his eyes softened again and he grabbed your arm once more.

"I'm sorry I said those mean words to you. I didn't mean it, I don't like it when you leave without me and I don't like it when you're upset."

When he grabbed your arm, you didn't turn to face him again, but after hearing the words he spoke, you turned again with a smile on your face and leaned closer to his.

The blush was evidently growing the more you leaned in, and you could see his adam's apple bob with nervousness.

"I accept your apology Kunikuzushi."

#genshin impact #genshin impact imagines #genshin impact x reader #xiao x reader #xiao imagines #albedo x reader #albedo imagines #tighnari x reader #tighnari imagines #scaramouche x reader #scaramouche imagines #atskiruma

[thethingswedotomorrow]

I love the Good Omens 'Night at Crowley's Flat' trope where after stopping the apocalypse in season 1, they go to Crowley's Flat and talk and kiss and fall in love and have a peaceful night, I do.

BUT

What if the night became 'The Night an Angel and a Demon Get Insanely Drunk and Teach Each Other How to Act'

Because honestly

They go to the flat, and ALL they know is they are going to have to swap themselves if they want to survive and finally be free from Heaven and Hell

But they have absolutely NO clue how to pull it off successfully

Sure, they know each other in and out.

Aziraphale has Crowley's eye color committed to memory (and also to paper, since Aziraphale spent 4-5 years in the late 80s trying to find a craft store in London that could help him do the color justice)

Crowley could find his angel in a crowd of millions (and not even just because only one single person in that crowd would be dressed in that ridiculous shade of tartan)

BUT they know they have to truly get this right, down to the exact detail.

So, naturally, they start by promptly opening the closest bottle of scotch that Crowley had available

Crowley was convinced this would be the easiest thing they've ever done

"Only you, Angel, would find a way to worry yourself to death AFTER stopping an apocalypse"

They begin with the easy part, switching corporations and clothing.

It was easy. Until Aziraphale realized he had to actually physically move in the very, very tight pants Crowley prefers.

The first three times he tries walking, he falls face down. And each time, realizes how it's equally hard to get back up again.

Not to mention that Crowley's corporation had learned that after 6000 years, it didn't really need all those vertebrae and bones since he never used them anyways

So now Aziraphale is just laying on the floor in terribly tight pants, very confused on how Crowley has managed all this time

(Crowley is also on the floor, having dropped there laughing after the 2nd attempt)

After they both get up (one much faster than the other) Crowley tries coaching the angel on how to walk like him

Until Crowley realizes he doesn't actually know how he walks, he just sort of wills himself forward and hopes his limbs keep up with him along the way

Eventually, after enough drinks, they settle on a technique called "Just pretend all your limbs are snakes. And you're a snake. Honestly, just as snake-y as you can manage, Angel."

Aziraphale, as difficult as this was for him, figures out that he may have gotten the easy side of this situation here. Crowley very much disagrees.

"Once an Angel, well, definitely not always an Angel, but close enough right?"

He very quickly realizes he may be wrong when Aziraphale asks Crowley to copy his walk

"Dear Lord Crowley, it cannot be that hard. You simply have to walk in a straight line"

It was indeed that hard.

Crowley has all his vertebrae now, but no knowledge of how they should be used

He tries to hold his hands behind his back and march forward, walking in what he thinks is probably, on some plane of reality, maybe a straight line

He's convinced that he's the perfect image of a stereotypical angel, head held high, an air of 'holier than thou' surrounding him

When Crowley asks Aziraphale, he only says, "Well, I suppose it will have to do for now."

Internally, Aziraphale thinks of the fact that Crowley looked identical to a bumbling penguin walking on ice.

When Crowly sits down, very pleased with himself for an impeccable performance ("As always, Angel. I've still got it." Aziraphale uncaps the vodka and drinks straight from the bottle, just staring into the distance.

He has just realized that their existence hinges on whether Crowley can figure out how to sit on a chair like a proper being with appendages and a spine.

And the odds are not in their favor, if they way the demon is sprawled out on the couch (reminding Aziraphale suddenly of a very well-done noodle, and suddenly he's starting to wonder if humans had the right idea with stress eating) is any indication

Crowley announces that he refuses to utter the words tickety boo, even if faced with destruction

"Honestly I think I'd rather have the holy water at that point" "Crowley." "I swear you just make sounds up sometimes, those aren't even real words"

4 bottles (and a very large order of takeout) later, they've got the act down well enough that it's starting to weird Crowley out

"Angel, seriously, enough with the nose. When have I ever done that with my nose? Exactly zero amount of times. I'm not a rabbit"

2 bottles later and Aziraphale has miracled Harry the Rabbit into the flat for a reason they can't quite remember

But they've got music playing from somewhere in the corner, and plenty of drinks, and the night goes on into the morning, and then they're sobering up and marching out for the most dramatic acting of their lives

And the world hasn't ended yet, so they'll probably be fine. Probably.

#aziraphale #crowley #good omens #ineffable boyfriends #ineffable husbands #good omens headcanons #good omens fic #crowley good omens #good omens aziraphale #good omens crowley #crowley x aziraphale #aziraphale good omens #otp: ineffable #ineffable spouses #ineffable idiots #good omens s2 #good omens fluff #crowley and aziraphale #aziraphale x crowley #crawley #good omens hc #ineffable #neil gaiman #good omens aziracrow #aziracrow #amazon good omens #david tennant #michael sheen #GOheadcanon23

[fangirl-dot-com]

Chapter 16 - Chéri

Aha, so I went a different route this time and the POVs are all over the place! But I enjoyed how this one turned out. Hit me in all the feels. just a bit angsty but nothing too terrible!

I hope you all enjoy this chapter! much love from me

Like always comments, questions, concerns, reblogs, and likes are always appreciated!

TAG LIST IS CLOSED

Arthur hated the rain. 

Sure, you seemed happy when you danced with P and splashed in the puddles as you waited for the signal for you to get in your car. The smile on your face should have been enough to damper his bad feelings. 

But it was raining. And it was Suzuka. 

He felt heavy as he got ready earlier that morning. The sad smile on Charles’s face hadn’t helped either. They both felt it when their feet touched the asphalt. They felt it as they held onto each other for a little longer than usual before Charles got dressed. 

He tried to take deep breaths before the cameras turned on as he was supposed to help Jensen and Nico with the interviews today. Both ex-drivers seemed to understand the weight that this track had on the younger Monegasque, so they covered the heavier questions. 

Arthur could only be glad that he was technically supporting you today. The navy polo felt itchy on his skin. Sure, he missed the red polo with the yellow symbol, but navy was your color. It helped him feel closer to you, when you were kilometers away in your car. 

He could tell people wanted to ask. He knew they were itching to just say, “How does it feel to be back on the circuit that killed your godfather.” But, they’d never ask, they would just send sad smiles that didn’t quite reach anyone’s eyes. 

Even you, his smiley best friend, could tell something was off. 

Arthur’s hands itched more than the skin under the polo. He would never be able to explain the sensation, but they itched. Maybe he should hold a cold can of Red Bull to cool the burn, but that wouldn’t help. 

His eyes were strained as he watched the data computer in front of him. He checked and checked again. 

Your tires would be fine. There’d be no stray cranes or tractors. The car was safe. 

Well, that’s what everyone told him and Charles 9 years ago.  

You scared him when you put a hand on his shoulder. 

“Jumpy today?” you questioned. You were already in your thick race suit, a helmet was in your hands. It wasn’t anything special, just your plain navy and gold one. You had already showed him your special one for Miami. 

He shrugged, not knowing how to answer. “A bit.” 

A sad smile formed on your face. Right now, he didn’t need words. He just needed you and Charles to be safe, and not be in the car this weekend. 

He finally sighed and turned to face you as he took your helmet in your hands. For a moment, he thought about smashing the damn thing, since he knew you didn’t have a backup. But what would be the point. 

He placed the lid on your head, keeping it above your forehead. “Starting pole today?” 

Now your smile was genuine. “Yep! Thur, I have a chance to win this!” 

He tried to mirror the smile, but again, it didn’t reach his eyes. Normally, he’d wait to kiss the “forehead” of you helmet, but today he needed a little something extra. 

Your eyes closed as he leaned in and placed a kiss on your head, almost between your eyes. You placed your hands on top of his, where they were still holding your helmet as a mushroom hat. 

You whispered, “Are you ok?” 

Arthur backed up just a bit. “Like you said, a bit jumpy.” 

Looking back, you knew you should have listened to the warning bells that were going off in your head. Arthur was rarely jumpy. 

And he loved the rain. 

You stepped closer and gave him a hug. Tears might have pooled at his lash line, but he’d never admit to it. He squeezed just a bit tighter before letting you go, so you could get into your car. 

Another hand was placed on his shoulder. His eyes met the figure of Kelly, who was holding P. Her eyes, he thinks, were trying to tell him that you’d be alright. That Charles would be alright. And that nothing would go wrong. 

How wrong she was.

Starting Grid: 

Y/n L/n 

Max Verstappen 

Charles Leclerc 

Fernando Alonso 

Carlos Sainz 

Lewis Hamilton 

Lando Norris 

Lance Stroll 

Oscar Piastri 

George Russell 

Alex Albon 

Pierre Gasly 

Logan Sargeant 

Esteban Ocon 

Yuki Tsunoda

Daniel Ricciardo 

Nico Hulkenberg 

Valtteri Bottas 

Zhou Guanyu 

Kevin Magnussen 

“And it’s lights out and away we go for the Japanese Grand Prix. Y/n L/n gets a good start down the first straight with her teammate Max Verstappen right behind her. Charles Leclerc goes wide, trying to gain the position around Verstappen, as the Dutchman is still trying to get the jump ahead on his rookie teammate and does he have it on the first turn? 

“No he does not! Y/n L/n leads the Japanese Grand Prix!” 

Was it normal if his heart was racing just as fast as these cars were? Well, for some fans it would be due to excitement. And, deep down, Arthur was very excited. You were doing everything that you ever dreamed of doing. 

You’d make 5-year-old Y/n proud. 

“Looks like the rain is drying up a bit. We’ll see who gets called into the pits first, and it looks like our race leader has been called in to switch. Now, she started on the intermediates and looks like she’ll be going to the hards. Weird call, but so far this season she has been on the bad end of tyre degradation. So we’ll see if she’ll be able to keep her lead with the hards. 

“Seems as though she has started a train of pit stops and still comes out in P1.” 

Your car was cruising. Yes, your heart was racing, maybe going as fast as your RB20. And it was due to excitement. You were leading, with a comfortable gap. Right now, you couldn’t see anything in your mirrors. 

You pressed your radio. 

“Mitch, what is the gap? And will I be able to take a win or do I need to let Max by?” you questioned. You were hoping that it’d be the first instance. Your maiden race win on your fourth Formula 1 race. What a start that would be. 

Mitch finally answered. “Just talked to Christian. If Max is able to catch you, then you’d need to let him by. But, right now your pace is the same if not faster than his. So, kid, I’d suggest you keep making qualifying laps and you might be a race winner today.” 

“Copy.” 

Your car jerked around a corner as you continued to press. 

You were hungry, starving even, for that win. You’d show everyone who doubted you that you were capable of winning. 

Yet, around the spoon corner of turn 13 and 14, the RB20 slid a bit more than you intended to. 

Your finger flew to the radio button. “Uh, Mitch what was that?” 

Her response was immediate. “Your breaks are a bit hot. I know I told you to push, but please slow down on the turns.” 

“Got it. And who is the car in front of me? Did someone get around or?” 

“That’s Ocon. He dropped down after he pitted and will be a lapped car in about a lap or so.” 

Arthur listened from the pits as Mitch gave you some advice. The first time he saw your car jerk a bit too much, he swore he died right there. He was thankfully given a pair of headphones so that he could listen in on whatever you said. They were uncomfortable, but he’d do anything right now to be closer to you. 

He watched as you got closer and closer to the Alpine. If you got around it, you’d be home free with almost 10 laps to go. 

Your first win. He could almost taste it for you, and he wasn’t even hungry for a victory. And maybe after your win, it’d be a good time for a confession. 

But he had hope that things wouldn’t end like that. 

You’d get a win and he’d get the one thing he’s wanted ever since you scared him at the first meeting. 

“Mitch, he’s braking hard on the turns. Can you please let the stewards know? He’s going to be a lapped car but is defending like he’s in first place.” 

One of the Red Bull engineers immediately got on it. 

“Mitch?” 

Was Arthur hearing things, or did you sound panicked? 

“Yeah Kid? We’re on it about the breaking.” 

“He’s not letting me by! And my breaks are acting weird again.” 

You sounded panicked. Mitch pressed a couple of buttons as Arthur started to nibble on his fingers. 

“Mitch! My breaks.” 

“Kid, they’re overheating. You need to slow down.” 

“Mitch I need to get around him. Seven more laps left.” 

“Kid, I know that, but we don’t need you spinning out.” 

Arthur’s hands began to burn as the itch got worse. 

“He’s going deep. I can go around.” 

“Kid, it’s too risky. Just wait until he’s given a penalty.” 

“I can do it! I’ll be a race winner!” 

“Kid, hold on!” 

“I got it!” 

Arthur’s heart stopped racing. 

“Kid!” 

“L/n tries to go around the outside of Ocon and…” 

Oh.

The sound was silent and deafening at the same time. 

A ringing sound echoed in his ears as he watched your car flip and flip and flip. 

Asphalt. Sky. Asphalt. Sky. Asphalt. Sky. Grass. Sky. Grass. Sky. Grass. Sky. Barrier. 

Black. 

The garage was in chaos, but somehow everything was going in slow motion? Arthur just stood still as everyone raced around.  

“That is the Red Bull of Y/n L/n that has gone into the barriers. It seems to be wedged upside down and stuck. Do we have any answer from inside the car?” 

Mitch frantically held down the radio button. 

“Kid answer me? Kid? Come on. This isn’t funny.” 

Arthur just stood still. 

Next to Mitch, GP was on the radio with Max. 

The Dutchman passed the accident site first. 

“Ah, was that Ocon? Serves him right for last week. Gap to Y/n please?” 

“Uh. That is a red flag Max,” GP sighed, “please come back to the pits.” 

“Fine. Tell the kid that we can drink a juice box or something.” 

“Just come in.” 

The rest of the drivers got similar radio messages. 

“Be careful. Red flag, there’s a Red Bull in the barriers Charles.” 

Charles’s heart dropped but he covered it with a chuckle, blissfully unaware. “Max finally made a mistake?” 

There was no answer from Xavi. 

“Red flag, return to the pits Lando.” 

“To the pits please Lewis, there’s a red flag.” 

“George, come in. Red flag is out and you need to get to the pits.” 

“Ah, Daniel, red flag. Back to the pits please.” 

“Oscar, please come to the pits. There’s been an accident and it’s a red flag.” 

“Logan? Pits please, the red flag is out.”

“Arthur!” 

The yell of his name brought him out of his stupor. His eyes met Mitch’s brown ones, where she was beckoning him over. He took the itchy headphones off and all but sprinted over to the pit wall. Immediately, Mitch put her own headphones on his head. 

“Talk to her. Get her talking.” 

It was a command that Arthur would take to heart. 

“Y/n?” Damn it, voice crack. “Y/n, please let me know you’re ok?” 

“It seems as though Arthur Leclerc is trying to get L/n to respond. Is there still nothing? The marshals are over there, and are trying, but she’s not out of the car yet?” 

Max looked around for your matching Red Bull. Two juice boxes were in his hands as he looked for your helmet. Had you gone for another lap on accident? He turned to the red-clad Monegasque who was weirdly frozen next to him. 

“Hey Charles, where’s Y/n…” 

The juice boxes fell to the ground as Max’s attention was now on the big screen that was broadcasting the wreck site. 

Next to him, Charles’s eyes were welling up with tears. His head swerved as he tried to find his brother. Curse him for wearing the dark polo. 

“Hey, Charlie?” 

A voice called for him through the fog, but his brain was hyper-active. Two hands were placed on his shoulders and blue eyes blocked the big screen. 

“She has a halo. Right now, they’re trying to get her out, ok?” Max tried to comfort the Ferrari driver, but was having some issues not crying as well.  

Charles mindlessly nodded. Pierre had come by a few moments later and brought him into a hug. It was then he let the tears fall along with his knees as he dropped to the asphalt. 

Max whispered as tears began to fall. “Come on kid. Just answer please.” His hands were tucked under his face, almost as if he were in prayer. 

Lando and Oscar held on to each other, trying to offer some comfort. Daniel stood behind them, hands at his sides. 

In his mind, he only thought, “Was he going to lose another friend to this track?” 

Charles was still on the ground, being comforted by Pierre as he rocked back and forth. “No, no, no. This cannot be happening again. Pas encore, pas elle. J’ai perdu Jules, je ne peux pas la perdre, Arthur ne peut pas la perdre. S’il te plait, s’il te plait, s’il te plait.” (Not again, no her. I’ve lost Jules, I can’t lose her, Arthur can’t lose her. Please, please, please.”)  

Logan sat numbly on the ground a little ways away. He had gone to get his headphones first thing to block everything out. He would laugh if he could at the next song that played through the speakers, but didn’t. Life is a Highway wouldn’t have the same meaning after today. 

Alex was on the phone with Lily, trying to update his girlfriend. You weren’t close with Alex yet, but he saw how well you treated his teammate. 

Lewis and George were couped up in the Mercedes garage. Lewis had refused to turn around and look at the big screen. Ten years hadn’t even passed since it last took a life and Lewis wasn’t about to see them drag your body from under the wreckage. George was trying to cope. Sunglasses were on to hide his tears and red eyes. 

At this moment, they were all prepared for what was to come: your body draped with a white blanket. 

Arthur was still trying. In this moment, it was just you and him. You were alive, you had to be. 

“Y/n? Please answer me? I-I can’t lose you. Ok? Can’t lose you like Jules. S’il te plait, tu dois aller bien. Nous avons encore tellement de choses a faire. Tu as besoin d’une victoire, et je te dire ce je ressens. Chéri…” (Please, you have to be ok. We still have so much to do. You need a race win, and I need to tell you how I feel.”)

A crackling noise came over the radio, right as he was about to give up. His breath hitched. 

“Y/n?” 

“Heeyyyyy,” you voice sounded. A sob escaped from Arthur’s lips. 

His hands didn’t itch anymore. 

“You are an idiot.” 

A groan left your mouth. “I know. Shit, I’m stuck.” 

Mitch, who now had another headphone set on her head, started to talk. “Ok kid. The RB20 was designed for this. You just have to keep kicking the side.” 

You sighed. “Ok.” 

You managed to scrunch yourself in the cockpit and began to kick. That was the moment that Arthur ran back to the garage. 

“She’s awake and answering!” 

Cheers filled the air while Christian crouched down. 

“Thank God,” he whispered, before standing back up and walking out to the pit lane. 

Kelly was the one to grab Arthur’s shoulder. “Come, I can drive you to the hospital. She’ll need us.” 

With a nod of his head, Arthur grabbed your bag and off he, P, and Kelly went. Vito quickly followed after them, hands full of your documentations and everything you'd need.

On the pit lane, Max watched as the wall of your RB20 suddenly flew away from the car. 

“Charles,” he barely whispered, but the Monegasque heard him somehow and stood up swiftly. A hand grasped his shoulder, and he whipped around to find Christian. 

“She’s ok.”

By now, everyone’s eyes were trained on the car. Marshals swarmed around it, ready for anything. What they didn’t expect though, was for one leg to swing out and then another. By the time they got over their shock, you were already halfway out. They quickly kneeled to help you further. 

“She is out of the car and looks completely fine! She will have to be taken to the hospital. Our calculations are showing that when she stopped, she experienced 54 g-forces. We don’t know if the race will be continued for the remaining 7 laps, but we will keep you updated.” 

Your feet squished the grass as you limped toward the on-site ambulance. You looked around and saw multiple cameras, watching your every move. You were thankful for some of the marshals who tried to push them away. But, in the back of your mind, you knew you needed to let everyone know you were fine. 

So, with a probably sprained ankle, you started to lightly bounce and raise your hands and wave. A few laughs were let out by the people around you. You pressed a finger toward you heart and then lifted it to the sky. 

Charles knew exactly what you were doing. He finally lifted himself off the ground, with Pierre’s help, and did the same motion. 

Thank you Jules. 

Max was back in the garage, now getting ready for the last few laps. He was angry. Honestly, they should just let everyone go, but a race is a race and it’s not completed. 

Mitch and GP came over. 

“Kelly went with Arthur and P to the hospital. She says that she’ll keep us updated,” GP told him. 

Mitch sucked in a breath. “We’ll let you know how she is after the race. And Max?” 

He turned to your engineer. 

“Win for her. Ok?” Tears lined her eyes. 

Max nodded, wanting to win for you. 

He put his helmet on and stalked toward his car. 

“And Max?” This time it was Christian, who had jogged up next to him. Max turned his head, full attention on his team principal. 

“Give Ocon hell for us.” 

Max turned back toward his car, eyes quickly darting to the alpine vehicle. 

Oh, he would. 

Race Results: 

Max Verstappen +25

Charles Leclerc +18 

Lando Norris +15 

Oscar Piastri +12

Carlos Sainz +11

Lewis Hamilton +8

George Russell +6 

Daniel Ricciardo +4 

Alex Albon +2 

Fernando Alonso +1

Logan Sargeant +0 

Yuki Tsunoda +0

Pierre Gasly +0 

Valtteri Bottas +0

Lance Stroll +0 

Kevin Magnussen +0

Nico Hulkenberg +0 

Zhou Guanyu +0 

Esteban Ocon +0 

Y/n L/n – DNF 

Standings after Suzuka 

Max Verstappen – 100 points 

Charles Leclerc – 66 points 

Lando Norris – 42 points 

Y/n L/n – 41 points 

Lewis Hamilton – 32 points 

Oscar Piastri – 31 points 

Carlos Sainz – 28 points 

Fernando Alonso – 23 points 

Daniel Ricciardo – 21 points 

George Russell – 20 points 

Alex Albon – 4 points 

Logan Sargeant – 0 points

Lance Stroll – 0 points

Pierre Gasly – 0 points

Yuki Tsunoda – 0 points

Zhou Guanyu – 0 points

Kevin Magnussen – 0 points

Nico Hulkenberg – 0 points

Valtteri Bottas – 0 points

Esteban Ocon - 0 points

Constructors Standings after Suzuka 

Red Bull – 214 points 

Ferrari – 139 points 

McLaren – 105 points 

Mercedes – 87 points 

Racing Bulls – 36 points 

Aston Martin – 26 points 

Williams – 4 points

Alpha Romeo – 0 points

Haas – 0 points

Alpine – 0 points 

f1 has posted *pretend there are no cars in the back of the second photo*

f1 Y/n L/n is out of the Japanese Grand Prix following a nasty impact! Mechanics who looked at her car found a faulty brake pad that caused an intense lock up on turn 15. The Red Bull rookie would have experienced around 54 G's when her car finally stopped at the barrier. L/n was escorted to the local hospital and was later released today.

liked by y/n_nation, maxiel_lover, iamred_iamyellow, and 94,873 others

y/n_updates I am so thankful that she's ok now, my heart stopped for a few minutes until she got out

y/nxarthur Arthur's and Charles's faces as they were waiting for her to get out, I was sobbing

leclerc4ever well, considering they lost their godfather at this exact circuit almost ten years ago, I felt their pain through the screen thur_thur exactly, Arthur's cries over the radio will haunt me for the rest of my life

box_box_express does anyone know who went with her? obviously the drivers had to finish the race

y/n_nation some sources say that Arthur and Kelly went with her as well as her manager Vito box_box_official thank you!

rb_rookie Red Bull finally released a statement that they will be looking into the faulty part, because apparently Max was also having the same issue

y/n_lover glad our girl is ok, but did anyone see how mad Max was? she locked up because she was breaking too hard behind Ocon. He needs to be stopped because this is Y/n's second impact and its all because of him

f1_fanatic ikr, and he was about to be a lapped car too!

b0x_b0x_nightmare she flipped almost 10 times, she could have died - Jules was definitely keeping her safe (thank you halo)

y/n_marry_me AND THIS WAS SUPPOSED TO BE HER FIRST WIN TOO GRRRRRRRR

f1_gossip has posted

f1_gossip looks like Mad Max is BACK. The dutch driver was seen yelling at Alpine driver Esteban Ocon after the race. Some sources say he was needed to be held back and Ocon had to be escorted back to his own garage. Max also barely responded to any of the post-race media interviews and immediately left after he was done.

tagged: maxverstappen1

liked by max_max_super, f1_fanatic, y/n_on_TOP, and 24,028 others

f1-fan BAHAHAHA I was laughing my ass off when Max was yelling at Ocon because he deserved it

max_max the return of Mad Max (although I wish it was under different circumstances, I feel so bad for Y/n)

lestappenlove I also saw Charles join in on the yelling as well

max&kid well deserved for Ocon. Seriously though, he needs to have like a penalty or something

y/n_fanclub is it bad that I wished Max would have punched him?

max_is_da_best nope, because I think we all wanted that to happen

leclercxverstappen I know for sure that if Arthur was there, he would have gone off too, you don't mess with Y/n and expect to walk away unhurt

max33 he was FUMING

y/n.89 has posted

y/n.89 everything hurts but pookie made it better with Macas, Cars 2, and the Porsche 911 Lego set - I'll be back, that top step is MINE

tagged: arthur_leclerc

liked by ollibearman, lewishamilton, danielricciardo, y/n_updates and 73,911 others

y/n_nation so happy for the update! we're all so glad that you're ok!

oscarpiastri mad that he got a picture and not me, I was literally also there

logansargeant and I brought your blanket?? y/n.89 but did you bring me macas, my favorite movie, AND legos?

olliebearman that's it mom - I'm coming to visit before you actually die

y/n.89 SON! olliebearman MOM! arthur_leclerc son? olliebearman DAD? maxverstappen1 son?! charles_leclerc dad?! olliebearman grandfathers? landonorris hold-up

y/n_updates POOKIE?? HELLO?

y/nxarthur me rn, having the urge to say something about the word "pookie": STAY IN THE BOX, NO! STAY IN THE BOX, NO!

that_1_y/n_fan I wonder what the doctor said

y/n.89 basically I have bruises in the shape of my seatbelt and a sprained ankle from kicking the side of the RB20 to get out. just some r&r needed before Shanghai! y/n.fan703 oh my gosh feel better!

danielricciardo hope you feel better darl! Heidi and I will be over with some actual food

lewishamilton Roscoe says that you need some snuggles, we'll come over when you tell us to francisca.gomez coming over with pear and some other get better goodies :D y/n.89 I love you all!

maxverstappen1 was the Lego set really necessary?

arthur_leclerc YES y/n.89 YES landonorris YES oscarpiastri YES logansargeant YES maxverstappen1 ok sheesh, sorry

y/n-y/n-fan is no one going to address the middle picture??

author shhhhhhhh (its for the plot)

f1_fanatic Ocon better watch out cause it's on SIGHT

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[mariasont]

Dress Code - S.R

a/n: got a little carried away with this one, but ugh just imagining spencer reid coming to my defense has me down BAD

masterlist

‧₊˚ ✩°｡⋆♡ ⋆˙⟡♡ ⋆˙⟡♡⋆｡°✩˚₊‧

pairings: spencer reid x bimbo!receptionist!reader

summary: in which spencer reid doesn't appreciate an agent questioning the length of your skirt

warnings: fluff, a rando flirting/being rude with the reader, mini skirts 4 life, definitely not appropriate for work but spencer doesn't give a FUCK

wc: 1.5k

"Interesting choice of attire for the FBI," the man's voice commented as you paused in the midst of penciling in his meeting with Chief Cruz. "Isn't that skirt a bit... short?"

The man was tall, though not quite as tall as Dr. Reid. His hair, a dark shade that caught the light as he moved (more so because of the liberal amount of gel in it), was neatly trimmed, but it lacked the effortless charm of Spencer's curls.

You had unwittingly set a standard, with Dr. Reid as the benchmark. You tried to go on dates, to distract yourself from the boy genius, but those dates turned into a mental tally--he's not as smart as Spencer, not as kind, not as attractive. 

Maintaining an unshakeable smile, you stood up from your work area. "You think? I just love how it twirls when I spin!"

You demonstrated--the pleated hem of your pink tweed skirt billowing out around you. You wobbled on your heels, a giggle escaping you as you used the desk to steady yourself. Spencer's gaze followed your every move as you tucked a couple stray curls behind your ears.

Spencer intended to maintain a respectful distance, to grant you some space, but he found himself consistently drawn towards you, as if pulled by gravity itself. You were irresistibly captivating, and it wasn't lost on him that this allure undoubtedly affected others just as much.  

His gaze sharpened into a glare, almost tangible in its intensity, directed at the man who hovered too close in your personal space, eyes trailing where they shouldn't as the fabric of your skirt fluttered with your movements.

The agent let out a soft laugh, inching forward to prop his elbows on the desk's edge, his eyes subtly scanning your legs. "I'd wager it becomes quite the tactical distraction during interrogations."

"Oh, I don't go into the interrogation rooms, silly!" you laugh, a melodic ripple in the air, as you ease back down into your chair. 

You cross your legs, one over the other, the action accentuating the graceful lines of your figure, skirt settling into place with a soft rustle. 

The man's smirk broadened, his eyebrow lifting in a choreographed motion. "You don't say?"

Your smile is radiant, blissfully unaware of the sarcasm in his voice. You tilt your head, a soft gesture as you rearrange a vase brimming with colorful flowers on your desk--a thank-you from Garcia for the cupcakes you gifted her with last week.

"Yep! I'm the first face people see here, and I want to make sure it's a good one!"

He nodded slowly, a sly grin spreading across his features. "The first face, huh? I suppose with a view like that, it's hard for anyone to get past the front desk. But isn't it a bit distracting for the agents?"

"I believe it's all about focus. And our team has an exceptional ability to focus, no matter the environment."

It was a welcome surprise to watch Dr. Reid make his way toward you, his walk a familiar lanky stride that somehow managed to be both awkward and graceful. You like his tie today, still crooked, but charming, and it was decorated with blue stripes that trailed up the side. Despite the sharp lines of his suit, there was something so undeniably soft about him. 

"Dr. Reid, I..."

Spencer didn't let him finish his thought. "And speaking of work, I believe Chief Cruz is waiting on you for those files. Best not to make him wait."

You weren't speaking of work, but the agent was quick to excuse himself, nonetheless.

"He seems nice, doesn't he?"

Spencer's lips twitched, on the verge of breaking your idealistic bubble, but he stopped short, arrested by the sincerity shining in your eyes. The idea of spoiling your untainted perspective felt almost sacrilegious, not when your smile was so genuinely sugary it nearly could've brought him to his knees right then and there. 

"Yeah," he conceded, his eyes trailing over your complacent face. "Nice."

You looked down at your skirt, plucking at a thread that had come undone. "You don't think it's too short, do you?"

You stood, ensuring he had a complete view, your palms delicately pressing the fabric down. Spencer's eyes opened a shade wider, the unexpected display catching him off guard. The skirt's length--or lack thereof--left little to the imagination, your thighs on full display, but he'd keep that thought to himself, and with any influence he had, everyone else would as well. 

"No, it's fine, you look lovely."

"Lovely?" your eyes basically shimmered in this light, your chin gently resting in the curve of your palm as you fixed him with an intent stare. "That's high praise."

"Deservedly so."

"Dr. Reid, I'm blushing."

And you were, pink radiating across your neck and cheeks, but he was sure a similar rosy shade was coloring the tips of his ears.

You rose from your chair, circling the desk to position yourself directly in front of him, close enough for him to detect the light scent of Dubble Bubble on your breath. He, almost instinctively, found himself leaning in your direction. 

"I just love how it feels," you noted, hand brushing against the cloth. "It's so soft, see?"

You extended the hem of your skirt towards him. Spencer's hand hesitated, then tentatively touched the fabric, clearing his throat in the process. He was even closer now, the scent of your perfume--what he thought was a mix of roses and a hint of citrus--engulfed him. The skirt was soft like you had said, but it was the warmth radiating from your skin that sent a jolt through him. 

His knuckles grazed against your thigh, whether intentional or not he really wasn't sure. His usual clarity wasn't up to par, not with you standing so close, looking so nice. The world seemed to spin when he was around you.

You let out a giggle, a soft and effervescent sound that seemed to steal the air from his lungs. "Do you see what I mean? It's like wearing a cloud."

His hand snapped back as if touched by fire, his face awash with a flustered glow. "Yes, it's...very soft," he managed, raking his fingers through his hair, his gaze darting to any point but your legs, the memory of its softness scattering his concentration.

You offered a beaming smile, naively unaware to the sheer havoc you wreaked on his senses. He needed to get back to work to prevent any rash decisions--like taking your face in his hands and pressing his lips to yours right there, an act that would certainly mar his professional record. He also wasn't sure you'd appreciate that. 

As though you had plucked the thoughts straight from his mind, your fingertips brushed softly over his chest. "Goodness, I've been rambling on, haven't I? You probably have, like, super important stuff to do."

Your touch seemed to still the air between you, Spencer's breath hitching, momentarily losing his train of thought. "Oh, uh... well, no, it's actually kind of a slow day for me right now."

Your hand, moving from his chest to rest on his arm, offered a tender squeeze. "Oh, that's good, isn't it? You guys are always super busy, it's about time the universe gave you a break, huh?"

Just as Spencer opened his mouth to reply, you bit your lip, cheeks flushed with a sudden realization. "Oh no, I totally just jinxed it, didn't I?"

You quickly rapped your knuckles against the desk. 

Spencer cocked his head to the side, a bemused chuckle escaping him. "What?"

Your words bubbled over with delight, closing the gap between you and Spencer until you were almost chest to chest. "Look at this, I'm the one who is teaching you something for once!" Your smile was wide and uncontainable. "So, knocking on wood--it's supposed to ward off bad luck or reverse a jinx, just like I might have done."

A myriad of scientific retorts teetered on the tip of his tongue, each one ready to debunk the notion of luck and its superstitious rituals. But those thoughts dissolved in the glow of your smile, as radiant and illuminating as an 1800-watt lightbulb. 

"Really? That's fascinating," he mused, his smile soft. "I'll have to remember that."

"Right? Oh, and don't get me started on finding a four-leaf clover. I swear it's lucky. I found one once, and I had the best day ever."

To him, it seemed like you didn't have anything other than good days, despite the statistical improbability. 

"I don't doubt it," Spencer replied with a knowing smile. Noticing the same agent coming out of the hallway, he excused himself. "Well, I'm going to get back. I'll, uh, see you later?"

"You know where to find me," you said.

As you spun to retreat to your desk, he offered a last, discreet glance at your skirt, more specifically the shape of your ass in it, before following after the agent.

"Walk with me, yeah?" Spencer suggested, his tone leaving no room for argument. It was out of character for him, but the way his jaw tightened suggested he didn't care. Once the distance granted privacy from your ears, he stated plainly. "Her attire is not up for discussion. If there's a concern, I'm the one you talk to."

The remainder of his day passed just as slow, and in the back of his mind, he entertained the thought that he had your knock-on wood to thank for that.

taglist: @hotchhner @khxna

#spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x bimbo reader #spencer reader x bimbo!reader #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reader x female reader #criminal minds fic #spencer reid fic #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid drabble #Spotify

[lovebugism]

can i request something with a reader who’s just really into steve’s scoops ahoy uniform?

hi, my love! thanks so much for your request!! what better way to celebrate july 4th (aka stranger things 3 day) than by commemorating steve harrington in his scoops ahoy uniform? tw for smut mdni!! (2.1k)

bug's summer fic fest ♡

When Steve told you he got a job slinging ice cream at the mall downtown, you didn’t think much of it. 

In fact, you spent the better part of that conversation comforting him. It was an existential crisis of sorts, wherein he’d spun himself into a panic about not going to college, not being successful, and not providing for you in the way that partners are supposed to. 

You figured it was a bruise to the ego more than anything — especially with his asshole father constantly looming over his shoulder. A steady reminder of what he could’ve been in ways more daunting than just one.

But then he showed you the Scoops Ahoy mandated uniform, held it in his hands with all the boyish reluctance of a child. According to him, the bright blue sailor’s outfit was the most dehumanizing thing of it all. It even came with its own stupid hat. 

You were so turned on by the idea of him wearing it, you forgot you were supposed to be consoling him. You quickly forgot why the job was ever a bad idea in the first place. Steve, albeit a bit confused by your sudden giddiness, was more excited to go into work the following Monday when he knew you were visiting him the first chance you got.

You’re practically skipping when you walk into Scoops, skirt swishing around your thighs. It was later in the morning, which meant business was relatively slow. There’s an older couple sharing a sundae at one of the booths, but other than that, you’re the only customer in the store.

Steve stands at the register with a smile on his face he doesn’t know is there. He’s been a real grouch all morning, but he’s forgotten why at the sight of you.

You beam at him, propping your elbows on the counter and putting your chin in your hands. “Do the line,” you gush.

His chest inflates with a deep breath in, then deflates with a sharp exhale. You don’t even notice that it’s a sigh of annoyance at first, too focused on the scarlet tie around his shoulders and the tufts of chest hair peeking out from the top of it.

“Ahoy, sweetheart,” he greets, still grinning despite his lack of enthusiasm. He tilts his head to his shoulder and recites his line: “‘Welcome to Scoops Ahoy. Would you like to set sail on this ocean of flavor with me today? I’ll be your captain’— How was that?” 

“Even better in uniform,” you marvel in a lilt. Then you squint at him. “I better be the only customer you’re using that sweetheart line on, though, Harrington.”

Steve scoffs like the thought of saying it to anyone else is appalling. “I’m pretty sure you’re the only person in the world I’ve ever called sweetheart, sweetheart.”

“Good. I plan on it staying that way.”

The boy smiles to himself. 

He likes when you get all possessive. Maybe because he spent the majority of his past relationships having to be the jealous one — always worried about never being good enough, being left. He likes how confident he is in the fact that you only have eyes for him. Even if he is wearing a stupid sailor’s uniform. 

“What do you what, huh?” the boy asks as he pulls out his metal scoop from the apron tied around his hips. “Choco-mint with chocolate sprinkles?”

He’s already spooning the green ice cream onto a cone for you before you say a word. You like that you never have to tell him what you want, that he knows you like the back of his hand already. 

“Ooh. He looks good in a sailor’s outfit, and he’s attentive?” you singsong lowly. “I think you might be a keeper, Steve Harrington.”

The boy rolls his eyes as he turns away from you. He walks to the opposite wall, where several containers of variously colored sprinkles sit in a large tub. When he bends over to smother your cone in the chocolate kind, the white hem of his shorts climbs up his thighs. You almost forget to breathe.  

Steve turns around to catch you staring. You don’t even blink.

“Stop ogling at me,” he laughs with pink cheeks. “It’s getting weird, babe.”

Your brows pinch. “Why is it weird to look at my boyfriend?”

“Because your boyfriend looks like an idiot. Like, this should not be turning you on, sweetheart.”

“The heart wants what it wants, Stevie,” you shrug with a whimsical sigh.

He meets your smirk with a half-hearted scowl and passes you the ice cream cone. When your tongue darts out to taste it, his brain malfunctions for a moment. “Seriously, babe,” he scoffs when his senses return to him. “What about any of this is attractive to you?”

Your head tilts as you scan his muscular form, looking far more boyish than usual in his flamboyant uniform. “Well, for starters, those ankle socks are strangely sexy—”

Steve snorts at the offbeat start to your list.

“—And your thighs look delectable in those shorts. Your arms do, too. You’ve been working out so much, they barely fit in those sleeves,” you compliment. The corner of your mouth quirks into a half-smile as your eyes flit up to his hair. “Also, something about the hat and ascot combo is really doing it for me.”

Robin comes out of the break room then. The door swishes back and forth. “You could’ve just said everything and be done with it,” she grouses as she clumsily sits her white cap on her head.

She looks about as grumpy as Steve, like something about the linoleum tile and fluorescent lighting is sucking the lives out of the two of them.

“Don’t worry. You look hot too, Buckley,” you promise with a smirk.

Her head tilts sweetly to the side as she musters a grin of her own. “Thank you.”

You turn back to Steve with an expectant gaze. “When do you go on break again?”

He twists his wrist to check his watch as you take another lick of your ice cream cone. 

Robin answers for him. “Now, preferably.”

“What?” the boy asks with furrowed brows. “I still have, like, fifteen minutes left.”

“Just go fuck and get it over with,” she groans, ocean-blue eyes wide and pleading. “I can practically smell the sexual tension radiating off both of you.”

Steve wants to argue, but you only smile. You nod your head towards the exit. “C’mon, sailor.”

He has no choice but to follow behind you. He’s been doing it for years now, and you haven’t disappointed him once. You lead him by his hand through the bustling mall, chucking your half-eaten cone into the bin when you reach the entrance.

Steve isn’t surprised when you wind up at his car in the employee parking section. He swirls with a boyish excitement, anyway. 

Everything feels so new with you. 

Even the things he’s done a thousand times.

Including, but not limited to, fucking you in the backseat of his car.

You’re on him the second you shut the door behind you. Your skirt bunches at your hips as you straddle his thighs, kissing him with the intent to swallow him whole.

Steve’s hands are limp at his sides in shock. It leaves you doing most of the work yourself, pulling down his blue shorts and gray underwear in one fell swoop. You tuck the hem of them beneath his heavy balls and half-hard cock.

His head falls back against the seat when you start fisting him completely stiff.

You twist your wrist in the way you know he likes — squeezing him towards the top before falling to the stem of his cock again. Your thumb swipes over his bulbous head to collect the pearly pre-come beading there. 

If you had enough room in the backseat of his Beamer, you might’ve forgone the sex entirely and just taken him into your mouth right then.

Steve’s rosy mouth falls agape to billow pretty little moans for you. You tug on the red tie around his neck to get his attention again. His glazed-over, honey eyes flutter open to find your smirking face. 

“Can I take a ride on your ocean of flavor, Stevie?” you tease with a mischievous glint in your eye.

“It’s ‘set sail,’ but yeah— shit,” he swears when your thumb grazes his leaking tip again. “Of course, you can, sweetheart…”

With his consent, you grip the bottom of his cock, pushing your panties to the side to line him with your pulsating entrance. He might’ve asked if you wanted a little preparation first, but when his silky head grazes your satin walls, he knows you’re more than wet.

Your pussy’s already drooling all over him, and he isn’t even inside you yet. 

The both of you exhale low moans when you finally slip him within you. Your walls are warm and wet — the softest velvet imaginable, and perfectly snug around his achingly hard cock. You keep your fingers wrapped around the tie on his chest, using it for leverage as you grind your hips back and forth over his thighs. 

Steve goes pussy drunk almost instantly, babbling like crazy at the feeling of your cunt sucking him further and further inside of you.

“Oh, my fucking god, baby,” he moans, the words sounding stiff as they spill from his tightening throat. “You feel so good. So tight, too— Shit. Pussy’s drooling all over me, sweetheart.”

He can’t see you from this angle — can’t see the way your dripping cunt takes him so well or the way your ass glides perfectly over his heavy balls. But he can picture it, can feel your slick drenching his pubic hair and happy trail.

He so desperately wishes it were possible to fuck you with his cock and have you ride his face at the same time. His mouth waters at the thought of tasting you.

But this is good for now. 

This is perfect.

With the energy he’s got left from his drifting senses, he grips the plush of your ass. He spreads your flesh apart, and the feeling of his fingers digging into your skin makes you clench around him. He almost loses it, then — when the smacking of your thighs and the wet squelch of your drenched pussy fills the small car, going slowly cloudy with your entwining heavy breaths.

“You’re so hot, Stevie,” you manage through labored pants. Your heavy-lidded gaze threatens to close, but you don’t want to stop looking at the boy below you. You want to commit all his features to memory — his pink kiss-bitten mouth, reddened cheeks, and honeyed eyes. You want the image of his fucked-out features to stain your mind forever.

“God, babe,” he sighs breathlessly, a moan mixed with a soft laugh. “I still don’t— I really don’t get it, sweetheart.”

“Are you seriously complaining?” you smirk as you glide your hips over his thighs again. 

Your swollen clit catches the polyester of the bottom of his shirt. You swear your eyes cross as your mouth opens in a low keen.

When your pussy clenches at the ethereal feeling, his cock jerk within your tightening velvet. Both of you are nearing your orgasms full throttle now. You can almost taste the sweet vanilla of your climax.

“No. Fuck no, I’m not complaining,” he assures with a shake of his head. “You’re just really fucking confusing and really fucking hot... Fuck—”

His head falls back again, exposing the golden tendons of his neck. You’d bite at them if you could stop looking at him. You smile even though he’s not looking at you — even though your thighs are burning and your knee is digging into the seat belt latch. “I can’t wait to fuck you when you get off.”

“Yeah?” he hums, eyes still halfway closed.

“Yeah,” you repeat with a nod, still rocking against his lap while his cock rubs relentlessly at the deepest parts of you. Your clit catches his shirt with every pass of your hips, sending a white-hot feeling of nearly unbearable pleasure shooting up your spine. “So I can get a real good look at you while you fuck me in this uniform.”

Steve squeezes his eyes shut as his jaw clenches. He tries not to come at the sound of your voice and how the words spill like honey from your mouth. 

Despite the less-than-ideal location — at the edges of a mostly empty lot — he doesn’t want this to be over quite yet. He wants to feel you gush on his cock over and over and over again. He’s afraid he won’t be able to focus on work until you do.

If he knew that slinging ice cream for three dollars an hour in a stupid sailor’s outfit would drive you this crazy, he would’ve dropped out of school and put in an application forever ago. 

#published by bug #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington smut #stranger things x reader #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington x you #stranger things imagine #stranger things fanfic #stranger things fic #steve harrington fanfiction #steve harrington fic #st drabbles #stevie drabble #bug's summer fic fest!

[p0rk-guts]

Velvette if she served cunt

Design breakdown below 👇🏾(BEWARE IT'S VERY LONG)

Alright going into detail about my gripes and edits. Like Velvette but her design is just. Not good to me. None of her (main) outfit details look like they fit to me— pinstripe pants + long fur coat paired with black crop top and scene sleeves? Skull earrings? TINKERBELL HEELS????? Tell me how any of that meshes well or even makes SENSE for the social media influencer persona she's supposed to have going on. Now that I think about it I'm pretty sure she's supposed to be clown themed... But I'm just gonna toss that idea out bc being a revered social media influencer and a clown at the same time just seems a bit oxymoronic to me, and the "clown" details aren't adding shit for me.

And don't think I forgot about her features. Pale ash grey skin and wavy hair at best. If she was supposed to be some type of creature where a nonhuman skin tone would make sense then maybe I could let it go?? But as far as I can tell she doesn't have an object or creature or animal theme like the other V's and if she does I shouldn't need to do detective work to figure it out. There is no reason for *any* of these poc characters to have grey skin, especially since they don't have any other poc features at all.

Sorry that shit gets me heated anyways. Onto my redesign. Gave her a more obviously black skin tone and textured hair bc I love a 30 inch buss down as much as the next girl but considering how there are no significant poc cast members with visibly textured hair I think she deserves to flaunt some coils if no one else will.

Ngl I'm not. A fashion girlie. Idk what's trendy idk what screams "influencer" so a lot of this was just throwing shit at the wall that I've seen around recently but it looks cute enough to me. And there was a bit of inspiration taken from Aliyahcore and ghetto fabulous fashion ❤️

If you can't tell this is shamefully inspired by lovesart23's Velvette reimagining because imo they had some outstanding ideas for Vel. I low-key stole their idea for those floating eyes in her hair that follow her around and help her keep tabs on shit it was just a superb idea for a social media overlord to me. I also took some inspo from @furbtasticworksofart 's redesign because vampire influencer sucking up the souls of her followers in exchange for content??? Too good (also the eyes were supposed to have bat/vamp wings I just forgot 😭) So yeah she's a vampire demon now. Without the features she was looking too human anyhow. Maybe she also feeds off of the energy of her followers through tech like after Vox mind controls them or whatever... Idk idk is that anything

Speaking of Vox, the screen glasses are meant to connect her to him w/ their color and shape while serving the purpose of being like a second phone she can post and check the web with. Like lovesart said in their reimagining vid, Vel doesn't really do more than pose for selfies and scroll on her phone when it comes to social media so in my head she's constantly flipping her shades on and off, using them to scroll and stay active, and they can show when she's not paying attention or respect to something/someone bc scrolling is more worth her time in the moment.

The hearts everywhere are also supposed to kinda represent social media likes + connect her back to Val w/ his heart patterns. That might've been what the hearts in her og design were for but. I just didn't like their placement bc I'm a nitpicker and a hater❕

I have so much more I could say about possible ideas for Velvette because I love evil black girls and I only want them to succeed in my media and I could treat her so much BETTER but I'll refrain bc this is way too long anyway.

Alright for reading/scrolling through all that rambling I offer you the sketches + some alt hair ideas I had

P.S. I'm very open to constructive criticism but if I see anyone just dick riding in my replies or rb's I'm just blocking you on sight ✌🏾

#hazbin hotel #velvette #velvette hazbin hotel #velvette redesign #hazbin hotel redesign #my art #digital art #character design

[starseungs]

after the curtain falls. lmh

lee know x gn!reader — spring was a season welcomed by all. what a pity that the notion of ‘all’ exempted you.

genre/s — angst, fluff, its just hurt-comfort, university au • 2.9k words

warning/s — break-up aftermath, profanity, commitment issues, minho gets called a bad bf (sorry), there's a twist i swear !

note — its quite literally been a year since i last wrote a fic so i would love to know how the quality of my writing is !! feedback is greatly appreciated 🫶

2024 ⓒ starseungs on tumblr. do not steal, repost, or edit.

Spring was never supposed to be this lifeless.

It was a season of new beginnings, where growth is celebrated and life is nurtured back into full bloom. A time of bright colors and freshly scented air floating all throughout the expanse of space, bringing soft smiles of comfort towards anyone who takes it in. Springtime was welcomed by all.

What a pity that the notion of ‘all’ exempted you.

You didn’t know why your spring was so vastly different from the others near you. You’d like to think that your winter started off just as normal as everybody else: watching the crisp fallen leaves on the ground get replaced by a fresh coat of snow, feeling the familiar prick of the icy season’s breeze on your skin as your body tried to suppress a giggling shiver, as well as seeing puffs of steam come out of every warm breath you took, reminding you that despite the cold weather, you still held a warmth inside of you.

Just who would have known that your spring would be the complete opposite, with your heart frosted over despite the rising temperatures? But somewhere in the back of your mind, you knew exactly why. You would never want to catch yourself admitting it, but maybe it was the way your winter ended in a snowstorm of emotions.

It wasn’t every winter that someone had a fight that could completely shatter an intricately built mosaic. It also wasn’t every winter that you would watch your other half walk out of your life without so much of a single falter.

You knew so damn well that it wasn’t every winter that you could get your heart broken.

Perhaps that was why you allowed your heart to get glazed over by ice. After all, it was the only thing keeping it together without requiring you to spend too much effort. Sure, it melted a bit every now and then, but it was easier to freeze liquid than it was to achieve the complete opposite.

It was for the same reason that you found solace in the springtime evenings, where it resembled even half of the winter that was keeping you human. The dimmed atmosphere of the surroundings was able to neutralize all the parading palettes of color, leaving you with a monochrome wonderland that was much more comforting to the eye.

The walk back to your dorm building wasn’t anything special. It really wasn’t supposed to, nor did you expect something to happen. You had just gotten over the hurdles of coursework back in the school’s library when you decided to call it a day, peacefully trek back to your dorm room, and get to sleep the hours away until duty calls. That was how your evening was supposed to go.

Except it didn’t.

When you first saw a figure more or less passed out near the lower steps of your dorm building, you were visibly concerned. Why wouldn’t you be? At this time of the day, it would be dangerous to just leave yourself undefended in public. That, and who in their right mind would be willing to snooze away amidst the midnight breeze?

That was enough for you to start a little jog toward them. Was this person locked out? Were they drunk? Should you help them? All sorts of questions popped into your head as you got closer to the steps the figure took as their bed for the night.

And yet all those same questions vanished into thin air the moment you caught a glimpse of the person’s face.

“—Minho?”

His name came out of your lips so frail, as if any stronger, and the scene before you would shatter into nothingness, telling you once again that it was all in your head. That you had wished to see him again.

It was almost comical just how fast the sight of him brought back the familiar prick in your eyes—the tears fighting the crisp blow of the wind to keep themselves at bay. This wasn’t how your evening was supposed to go.

Granted, the fight between you was a petty one. Well, not more so petty than sudden since it literally blew up out of nowhere. It started off with a question about commitment. Arguably simple one of where you saw each other in a few years. You had gone first after you asked, rambling happily about graduation and living together. Minho chuckled along with your plans, and to you, he even seemed glad to hear them.

Yet, when the topic of marriage was brought up, his smile immediately turned blank.

Of course, you noticed his drastic change of mood right away. What kind of significant other would you be if you didn’t? But when you reached out to ask him what was wrong, he merely brushed it off as being tired.

Except that both you and him had done nothing but lay around the whole day.

Maybe you, too, had a fault in all of this. You prodded him more about the topic, not knowing you were agitating a ticking time bomb running out of time. If you only knew, then it shouldn’t have come as a surprise that he eventually exploded, spitting out that he wasn’t too sure about marriage.

In your view, that would have been fine. You were willing to talk it out; perhaps he had other plans for the both of you that would settle just fine in yours. There was no way you’d pressure Minho into doing something he didn’t feel like doing. You had too much love and respect for him to do so.

It was in an unfortunate turn of events that you had to find out the sentiment wasn’t shared in the same way you did, as when he slammed your room’s door shut after expressing that it wouldn’t work out, he took a piece of your heart with him that left you incomplete on the days that followed.

And yet, there he was again. Marching into your life like nothing ever happened.

In a blinding flash of hot white fury, you marched up to Minho’s peaceful figure, blissfully unaware of the chaos headed his way. Your body shook in the repressed burst of energy, trying not to lose yourself in public despite the area devoid of people. After reaching him in less than a minute, you saw no hesitation in leaning down to wake him.

“Minho,” you grasped at his right shoulder, trying to shake him out of slumber. You saw the action as intense in a way that was borderline frantic, not a care for the state of the joint you had grabbed. After all, why would you? Yet, while you’d like to believe you did a great job at expressing your displeasure, a small voice pestering at the back of your mind begged to say otherwise.

It was a mere whisper—directed at the act you just committed, one that shouldn’t even bother you in the slightest. Yet, it did. So painfully so.

That kind of gentleness isn’t reserved for a heart swirling in rage.

The slight squeeze in your heart at the notion only made you grit your teeth further in displeasure. Curse your damned heart for keeping its fondness for the man before you. The same man who was still up in dreamland while you were fighting your own war at the present. You clicked your tongue in building irritation.

“Wake up, or else I’m leaving you out here to freeze.” With one last shove, Minho finally came back to Earth.

You watched as he fluttered his eyes open, ignoring the warmth that seemed to spread over you once you got a glimpse of his big almond eyes. Minho sure took his sweet time to process his surroundings, causing you to purse your lips in uncertainty when his gaze lingered on your figure towering over him a bit too long with an unexplainable emotion.

“Hi,” he mumbled slowly, a small smile ghosting on his rosy lips. “Even in my dreams, you never fail to look so lovely.”

Cold air filled your lungs as you sucked in a breath at his words. You hated the way he easily melted the ice that you had covered your heart in. Without even meaning to, Minho had already managed to tear down the first layer of protection you had set up to keep yourself sane. There were a lot of things you wanted to tell him back, but you held your tongue. This wasn’t the right time.

Nor would that time ever come.

“It’s not a dream,” you opted to inform him of what was left of the goodness in your heart, partly feeling guilty for his disoriented state. “Get up, Minho. It’s cold out here.”

“You’re—what, wait!”

Minho scrambled frantically from his seated position on the dorm building’s steps, clumsily finding his balance to get up. The rush of suddenly standing after a nap came over him like a wave, causing him to stumble with a groan as he let the blood that came up settle. You sighed at Minho’s efforts, turning back around to continue your way towards the entrance.

“You should go back home.”

“I won’t!” He replied in haste, pure desperation seeping over his words. “Not again. Not when I spend every passing hour regretting that I did back then when I clearly shouldn’t have.”

You felt your world still at what Minho had just said. Did you hear it correctly?

“Please, Y/N.”

Minho’s footsteps echoed in your mind, telling you that he was moving closer. But your body had yet to listen to the warning bells you had set off, keeping you still in the same place you had stopped in. You surprised yourself with the small whimper that escaped your lips after feeling warmth radiating right behind you.

“Can—can I hug you?”

And just like that, the dam broke as the first fits of sobs spluttered out of your body in waves, barely getting contained as Minho wrapped you with his arms firmly. You turned to face him just to throw weak punches at his chest. “I hate you so much!”

“I know,” he said, hugging you tighter, as if you would disappear the moment he eased his hold. “I know you do.”

“Do you know how hurt I was? How could you just leave me like that!”

“I don’t know,” Minho answers again, completely giving in to your inner turmoil. He let you dampen his hoodie with your tears without any reference. “I was stupid.”

“So stupid!”

“Very stupid,” he repeats your words without hesitation, finally pulling back slightly to see your tear-stained face, gently wiping the fresh drops that escaped with his thumb.

You cursed the way your body naturally leaned into his touch. You disliked the way his voice soothed your running mind from the horrors it placed upon yourself. You hated the way you felt comforted by his presence, the same way he hurt you with his absence.

And most of all, you despised the way you couldn’t bring yourself to stay mad at him.

“I’m sorry,” Minho said heavily, visibly trying to keep his own tears at bay. “I know that won’t fix all the things that happened, but I still wanted to let you know.”

You exhaled shakily.

“I—I won’t force you to accept my apology,” he continued. “But please—God, Y/N. I don’t think I’d be able to handle you telling me to go home and never fixing us. I wouldn’t survive in this world without you by my side. I promise I’ll do better for you. I’ll reflect on what I need to, just—”

Minho breathed in deeply.

“Give me another chance.”

The two of you breathed in unison for the first time in weeks.

“Cut!”

“Nice,” Jisung’s squeal of joy could be heard throughout the wide space, carefully fumbling with his video camera to watch the scene’s replay. “That was a great take!”

Seungmin groans at the noise level. “Seriously, would it hurt you to keep it down? Some people are already asleep,” he scoffs, really not wanting to deal with a complaint filed against them this late into the night.

The younger of the two only juts his lower lip forward into a childish pout. “But it’s only midnight. We’re in university. Who gets to sleep that early in university?” Seungmin only bites back a retort after sensing genuine confusion in Jisung’s tone.

“Whatever,” he grumbled.

At the sound of their bickering, the late night’s breeze didn’t seem to be as frosty as it was a few minutes ago. You distantly hear Seungmin and Jisung continue to talk, now finding themselves in a heated discussion about the next scene. A light chuckle was heard coming from the man still holding you.

“Well, I’m glad that they’re having fun,” Minho comments, greatly amused at the duo. You felt his gaze drop down towards your head, still resting on his shoulder. “Feeling okay?”

You could only nod at his query, too exhausted from enacting the scene that just finished. He hummed at your non-verbal approach to answering, running a hand through your hair to soothe your dropping emotions.

“What’s going on in that pretty little mind of yours?” You let out a soft giggle at his wording before snuggling yourself closer to his figure. Minho lets you do your thing with a smile.

“Let’s not ever do that.”

“Do what, love?” He asks, requesting that you elaborate. You listened to his heartbeat thump calmly before speaking up.

“Break up,” you said, the thought leaving a bitter taste on your tongue. “I don’t like the feeling. It hurts.”

Minho laughs again, but this time it was aimed at you. “Well, of course it’s going to hurt,” he says with a light tone. “You’re going to be losing me!” You slapped his arm in annoyance.

“You are such an ass, Lee Minho!”

“Ow—hold on!” He chokes out in between chuckles. Minho takes hold of the hand that was assaulting his arm, slipping it into his own and entangling both of your fingers. You couldn’t help the heat that washed over your face at the intimate action. Minho seemed satisfied with your reaction. “If it makes you feel better, it’s going to hurt me too.”

You pull away to raise a brow at his statement. “Why? Since you’ll be single?” Minho pretends to think for a second.

“I mean, I guess?” You shot him an icy glare at his admission, but the tender smile he gave back at you made your angry facade falter in an instant. It looks like on-screen you had the same issues with their own Minho—both being undeniably weak when it came to them.

“Stop giving me that look,” you sigh amidst a smile you were suppressing.

“What look?”

“That look,” you say, almost in a breath as you struggle to chase the words out of your mouth. “The one when you look at me like I’m the only person in this world.”

It was a look you’ve seen too many times. One that he would give you both at the most intimate of moments and the most random of times. You see it when you wake up in the morning to him already awake beside you; you saw it when you squealed in joy after winning a prize from those rigged claw machines in the arcade across town; and you see it especially when he sees you waiting outside his class’ building after an extensive lecture, holding two cups of coffee for both you and him. It was from those times that you realized—it was Minho’s gaze of unfiltered love for you.

Minho pulls you back into his arms, still unable to let go of his endearing grin. Your head finds its way back into the crevice of his neck, finding home in it once again, like second nature.

“That’s because you are the only person in my world.”

“We beg to differ.”

Minho could only roll his eyes at the eerily synchronized voices of Jisung and Seungmin, leaving you to crumble into fits of laughter. He scoffs before replying, “If I lose my beloved darling, then you guys are losing an actor.”

“Well, you wouldn’t be trying to salvage your relationship if you stopped being such a shit boyfriend!” Jisung bites back at Minho’s threat.

“What, so you would rather watch us be all lovey-dovey in front of you? I didn’t take you for that kind of person, Jisung.”

“Seungmin, he’s fighting me again!”

“What am I, your mom?”

The night continued on in blissful laughter and amused smiles, finally fitting for the season of spring. Even with the chilled breeze of the evening air, the warmth exuding from the four of you would remain, defrosting the ice you had layered on your heart for the scene given to you. Deep in your mind, you knew that this was really how your night was supposed to go.

That as much as you loved creating little scenarios for your friends’ films, you’d always prefer the life you had after the curtain falls.

mastertag 🔖— send in an ask if you want to be added ! 🫶

@fairyki @hysgf @euncsace @comet-falls @starlostseungmin @ameliesaysshoo @hyunverse @djeniryuu

sorry for anyone tagged that didn't want to be !! i used my old mastertag from a year ago for this fic. i'll be creating a new one soon, so kindly just tell me if you want to be included still 🤍

#starseungs-library #stray kids imagines #skz imagines #skz #skz x reader #stray kids #stray kids x reader #lee minho imagines #lee know imagines #lee minho #lee know #lee minho x reader #lee know x reader #stray kids fanfic #skz fanfic #lee minho fanfic #lee know fanfic #skz angst #stray kids angst #skz fluff #stray kids fluff #lee know angst #lee know fluff #stray kids fanfiction #skz fanfiction #lee know fanfiction

[stayinlimbo]

the world is ending (but i'm happy you're here with me)

pairing: lee minho x f!reader genre: established relationship, fluff, hurt/comfort warnings: one (1) swear, mc is mentioned to have longer hair at one point, slightly unedited, lowercase intended word count: 1.07k note: i had a lot of fun writing this, so i hope you enjoy it too ♡

there comes a time in every girl’s life where the overwhelming urge to change her physical appearance eclipses all sensible and rational thought. as it turns out, you’re no exception. 

“you’re going to laugh.”

“no i’m not.” 

“you already are,” you deadpan, frowning at minho’s pitiful attempts to repress the growing smile quirking at his lips. your boyfriend has the audacity to chuckle at your words, pushing himself off the couch and gliding towards your stiff figure standing at the entrance of the living room. 

“you can’t blame me, you look so cute and adorable right now,” he defends. an arm snakes around your shoulders and you relax slightly at his touch, wrapping your arms around his middle. “besides, it can’t be that bad—at least, not enough for you to have to hide from me.” 

minho pulls you further into the warmth of his chest, the tender embrace sending a small shiver down your spine. his lips meet the side of your hooded head in a firm kiss, the extra pressure ensuring you would feel the loving gesture. the usual trail of kisses towards your forehead and cheeks is blocked, currently concealed by your (his) hoodie’s drawstrings working overtime to reveal only a small oval of skin. 

the hood’s bunched fabric frames the top of your eyes and lips. you can barely see in front of you until one of minho’s fingers slips into the opening to try and take a peek at what’s covered inside. 

minho is being nice; you look ridiculous.

and it’s your fault really. you should have known you couldn't escape your misfortunes that easily. 

work for the past month has been hell: the road-closure of the usual route you’d take, tacking on an additional fifteen minutes to your commute. the early mornings you have to endure to clock-in on time. the “important” group project your boss delegated around the office. the unpaid overtime for said project. the same petty, passive-aggressive coworkers breathing down your neck and critiquing your every move because you made a mistake once—all casting insurmountable pressure on your already exhausted state. 

you finally snapped when someone callously stole the lunch minho had prepared for you from the breakroom’s fridge. 

you suppose now it was your brain’s attempt to regain some sort of control over the strenuous situation, but the impulse to cut your hair, try a new style, start fresh with your appearance bombarded every thought on the journey home. call it an impulsive thought, an intrusive thought, whatever—you needed to do something.

too bad the hair stylist couldn’t follow directions for shit. 

“minho, i’m serious,” you whine, burying your face further into his chest. suffocating in the arms of the man you love doesn’t sound like such a bad idea right now. “she ruined my hair. how am i supposed to go out in public like this?”

“i can’t tell you if you haven’t even shown me yet. i’m sure it’s not as bad as you think,” he muses, chuckling at the vibrations tickling his torso from the muffled groan you release. 

minho starts to sway the two of you back and forth at your silence. the rhythmic movement cradles you in a comforting hold, temporarily soothing your spiraling thoughts. he’s right; you’re going to have to show him at some point. might as well just get it over with now. 

a defeated sigh escapes you. well, here goes nothing.

you step out of minho’s arms and pry the hood off to reveal your botched hair in all its glory. 

uneven bangs, a completely different color than from when you left for work this morning, fall into your face and cover the top of your eyes. you can’t see yourself but judging from minho’s small hiss and surprised, contorted face, it’s not pretty. 

and it’s not like you asked for anything outlandish: a standard cut and a new style of bangs was your definition of revamping your appearance. so when the stylist cut off a majority of your hair, it took everything within you to not immediately burst into tears as the salon’s floor and your lap splayed the once lengthy remains. 

you don’t even know where she got the idea of bleaching your hair. now your wallet and soul are emptier than ever and there is nothing you can do except hope minho doesn’t ask you to turn around because the layers are downright atrocious. 

“so? what do you think?” a wobbly smile makes its way onto your face. “not what you were expecting, right?”

you can’t help the tears welling into your eyes at his silence. he’s just…staring. certainly this can’t be the dealbreaker, right?

 …right?

you’re saved from your inner turmoil when minho moves forward to carefully bring you back into his arms. the tears finally spill down your cheeks and onto his shirt, the comforting scent of minho flooding your senses once again. if you could hide here forever, you would. 

“it’ll grow back.” 

“i know.”

“you still look sexy.” he pinches your side, coaxing a watery laugh from you. his smile is infectious, and you can’t help but tearfully look up at him with one of your own. 

you playfully guide one of his hands towards the back of your damaged hair, leaving it there. “so you’re not breaking up with me over this?” you tease, resting your head back against his chest. you don’t notice the subtle shift in your boyfriend’s gaze until he softly calls your name.   

“i would love you even if you were bald,” he confesses quietly, squeezing you tighter to him.

you can’t help but snort into his chest. “yeah?” 

“yeah. i will love you now until it’s long again. i will love you with any hair cut, color, style, anything. even if you hate it or one day regret it, my love for you won’t change,” minho assures, his sincerity echoing in his words.

“so if i dyed my hair pink tomorrow, you’d be okay with it?”

“do what you want, whenever you want.” 

because it doesn’t matter to him what you do with your hair. you’re still you, his beautiful and resilient (and sexy) girlfriend. even as his hands run through the chopped, disproportionate strands on the back of your head, he finds you more and more enchanting with each passing day.

“i will be here for you. always.” 

✦ . ⁺ . ✦ . ⁺ . ✦ . ⁺ . ✦ . ⁺ . ✦ . ⁺ . ✦ . ⁺ . ✦ . ⁺ . ✦ . ⁺ . ✦ . ⁺

(“i still have to go to work.” 

“just wear a hat.”)

────────────────────────────────────────────

liked this work? want to let me know how i did? please like, comment, and/or reblog; they are greatly appreciated my asks are always open ♡

#lee know x reader #lee minho x reader #lee know #lee minho #skz x reader #lee know fluff #lee know scenarios #lee know x reader fluff #skz fic #lee know angst #stray kids x reader #stray kids fic #stray kids fluff #stray kids imagines #stray kids #skz scenarios #stray kids angst #stray kids minho #kpop imagines #skz au #stray kids scenarios #skz #lee minho x you #lee minho x y/n #skz hurt/comfort #lee minho angst #lee know imagines #stray kids x you #stayinlimbo

[wonniesdoll]

locked up - yjw

MDNI 18+ ONLY! this is SMUT.

- this is my first time ever writing smut, so feedback is totally appreciated but pls be kind and lmk what you think :)

- english is not my first language! do lmk if you see any spelling mistakes hihi.

-

warnings: female reader, throat fucking(f!receiving), chastity belt(f!receiving), anal play(f!receiving) reader can be picked up and carried, hair can be grabbed, "you" pov, vaginal pleasure denial? is there a word for this idk!! degrading word! (slut) used on reader, jungwon is readers bf and they are kinky! reader is desperate but super into what's going on

umm.. this is my first smut so lmk what else i should add here since idrk how tumblr etiquette works but lmk if i did anything wrong pls!

also how do you make text a different color without having it be underlined pls help me a girl is struggling! also sorry the layout is ugly i was struggling with all the editing omg but happy reading! if anyone has tips or anything for me or wants to be friends even plsplsplps slide into my dms I'm so nice!!!

it starts here!

an irritated whine rips out of your throat as your boyfriend, jungwon, puts the stupid, stupid chastity belt on you. the one he's been threatening to put on you as a punishment since.. well, for a long time. but today is when you managed to make him snap.

finally.

the action of him going through with putting you in the chastity belt proves to frustrate you even more, the cage encasing your throbbing pussy into an evil metal cage.

specifically designed to deny you pleasure.

"shut up, brat." he angrily mutters, his hands working harshly to secure the belt as you squirm on the bed.

"I'll be good from now on, i swear!!" another whine of protest slips out, and you immediately draw back seeing the way Jungwon's eyes narrow at you when he hears your voice once more.

"I told you earlier, baby. sluts like you don't deserve pleasure. pleasure is for good girls." he says, fastening the belt for the last time and securing the it with a small padlock before pulling back slightly to admire his handiwork, key in hand.

you're prettily sprawled out and squirming underneath him, naked, just how he likes it. your soft skin is glowing underneath the faint streams of evening sunlight filtering through the curtains and onto your desperate, pathetically adorable body.

"I'm sorry for touching myself without your permission, but isn't this a bit too harsh? a chastity belt, really?" you complain diligently, still wanting to stay on his good side for the sake of your throbbing pussy.

Jungwon simply grins in response, his dimples making an appearance and melting your heart despite your uncontrollable horniness as the chastity belt restricts you.

"i told you, no cumming for a week. how am i supposed to know you won't try to get that desperate pussy off while I'm away, hm?"

his catlike eyes glance down at the chastity belt, a metal one he had ordered to be perfectly fit for your pretty body. he smirks again before stuffing the key into his pocket and shuffling a bit further away to admire you even more.

"i won't! please just take it off, Wonnie.." you whimper, begging softly, wanting nothing more than to jump on top of him and ride his thick, hard dick until you both pass out.

"if you had been a good girl, this wouldn't have happened, you brat." he grins as he comes closer to your figure on the bed, languidly sliding his hand down the chastity belt, right where he knows your slit is dripping and quivering.

so wet. so ready for him. so naughty.

you watch him with dilated pupils. dirty, vile thoughts running through your pretty little head as he continues his teasing ministrations.

your breath hitches when his hand suddenly slips lower, tracing along the metal ring that presents your other hole to him. the forbidden one.

that's right. not only does Jungwon's punishment include denying you of your own pleasure for a week, it also includes him taking you anally, since he sure as hell isn't going to suffer through a week of no sex because of your bratty behavior.

"do you remember the rules i explained earlier, baby?" your boyfriend asks, his pretty fingers circling around your puckered hole as he watches your facial expressions carefully.

he loves you after all, and he wants to make sure you're not uncomfortable throughout this entire encounter.

"yes i do. you're not touching my pussy for a week, nor am i allowed to. you'll satisfy yourself by using my ass or my mouth." you obediently repeat the rules back to him, eyes lighting up at the smile on his face at the sight of you being so good.

"that's a good girl." he praises you, his finger dragging some of the slick on your inner thigh before lazily falling back to your asshole, which he begins teasing with that very same finger.

you jolt in surprise, trying your best to relax as you sink into the pillows, a faint whimper escaping you at the feeling of his fingertip stretching your ass out slightly as it begins tipping into you. the heels of your feet dig into the mattress slightly as you focus on the delicious feeling.

your eyes land on the bulge that can easily be seen in his sweatpants. he's been achingly hard ever since he got home, expecting to see his sweet, cute girlfriend readily waiting at the door to be able to greet him with a kiss and a hug like usually.

yet, all he was met with when he tiredly walked in after a long day of recording and practice, was a dark house along with faint moans coming from your shared bedroom.

upon further inspection, Jungwon had found you, wearing only one of his shirts. the fabric of the white cotton was draping onto your thighs as you rode a pillow. his pillow. there was a blissful look on your face as you chased your high with closed eyes and an open mouth, sweet little moans slipping from your lips as you called out for your boyfriend while having absolutely no idea that he was watching you from the doorway.

that's how you ended up in this predicament in the first place, now having little to no say in what would be done to you during the oncoming week. and you couldn't be more turned on at the thought.

the thought of Jungwon using you for his pleasure while simultaneously denying all of your needs made your pussy unbelievably wet, little droplets of your essence already leaking through the slit of the chastity belt, staining the silver metal in your juices.

you opened your legs a bit wider for him to get a good look at the sight of his finger sliding in and out of your exposed asshole, the metal ring almost serving as a guide for where exactly to train your eyes to have the best view.

"f-fuck.." you bite back a moan. anal had always been something you'd been into, and it's only recently that you brought it up with Jungwon, who was more than happy to help you indulge in your desires.

"language." you jolt when your boyfriend slaps your inner thigh sternly, yet softly. his tone isn't angry, it's a warning.

"sorry, wonnie.." you smile sheepishly as he continues to gently stretch your asshole with his fingers.

one finger, then two, then three. at this point you're a blubbering mess. uncontrollably moaning as your chest rises and falls rapidly while he fingers your asshole with a smirk on his face. "wonnie please.." you beg softly, your sweet eyes pleading with him.

"not a chance, baby." the man simply grins at you before reaching over and grabbing an adorable buttplug off the bedside table. it's metal, it has a base with a pink, heart shaped jewel that perfectly matches some of the other cute pink pieces of lingerie Jungwon buys you all the time.

he coats it in a layer of your slick that's leaked out of the slit in the chastity belt before carefully slipping it into your tight asshole, presumably to keep you nice and stretched for when he wants to use you there, which you absolutely couldn't wait for.

"please, not even anal? you really won't even fuck my ass? i need it wonnie.. please." you beg softly, wanting nothing more than to have your boyfriend's pretty cock sliding in and out of you while you moan into his mouth.

"no. you don't deserve to be touched by me right now, you've been bad." Jungwon huffs in response, making sure the buttplug is fit snugly inside of your tight little ass. his hand comes down to leave a smack on the skin of your plush ass, grabbing a handful and spreading your cheeks to get a good look at the buttplug inside you and the metal ring which would allow him to use your ass at all times if he so wished to.

his eyes then moved upwards, his teeth digging into his bottom lip as he trains his gaze onto the metal slab encasing your pussy. your tight, sweet wetness. he lets out a small, audible groan at the sight of the amount of essence dripping out of the slit in the middle of the chastity belt, imagining how good your tight pussy would feel right now, skilfully gripping his aching cock as you whimpered his name.

he shakes away the thoughts, wanting to stay strong and true to the discipline he has planned for you, finally allowing his eyes to peer even higher and to look at your desperate, adorable face.

your pupils are completely dilated, your beautiful tits moving up and down with the deep breaths you take as you look deep into his eyes with the most desperate expression he's ever seen on you.

"please?" you plead innocently.

fuck.

fuck.

Jungwon could smack himself in the face in frustration, his cock twitching at the sound of your sweet voice, sounding so pathetic. so pretty. so perfect. He wanted nothing more than to rip that chastity belt off you and to bury himself deep inside your wonderful pussy for all eternity.

but he didn't. he wouldn't.

"No. Now stop whining and get on your knees." his hands move to the waistband of his sweatpants, pulling them down along with his boxers as you rush to kneel in front of him.

Jungwon smirks down at you as he pulls his hard cock out of his sweats, eyes trained on your desperate face.

your own eyes are locked on Jungwon's hard cock. the shape of his mushroom tip, each vein, each barely noticable ridge completely engraved in your mind.

you were a slut for cock. you were an absolute whore for your boyfriend's cock, though.

The man in question stands tall in front of you, grabbing the base of his cock and hissing softly as he strokes himself a few times, his free hand reaching towards your hair to grip it, gently pulling your face closer to the twitching muscle as you breathe out in contentment.

"suck." he commands, slapping his achingly hard cock onto your cheek twice.

you don't have to be told again, opening your mouth and swirling your tongue around his pink tip, savoring the taste of the precum that's been dribbling out since he got home.

a small moan escapes you just as Jungwon groans in satisfaction, leaning back against the wall as he watches you slowly work your way down his cock.

you look up into his eyes, making eye contact as you take him into your mouth, hollowing your cheeks as you bob your head.

the sight above you belongs in a magazine, or on the wall of a museum, maybe it even deserves to be displayed on one of gigantic building's screens in time square.

jungwon is looking down at you, the same intensity in his eyes that's undoubtedly being mirrored back to him as you suck him off how he likes it. his lips are parted as he groans, waiting for the perfect moment..

it's when you finally ease his cock into your willing, tight throat that jungwon knows it's okay for him to retake control. so he does.

you moan softly around his cock as both hands trail down, gripping your hair tightly, yet gently.

"tap my thigh twice if you want me to stop, yeah?" he whispers, stroking your hair affectionately before his expression hardens and he stands up a bit straighter.

you can barely nod due to his tight grip, but you both understand it. you're ready.

with that, he takes control. his hands are swiftly tangled into your hair as he thrusts forward slowly, burying his length deep into your throat and letting out what's possibly the sluttiest moan you've ever heard from a man.

you're no different, trying to trail your hand down to rub your clit before the realization sets in. you're locked. caged up. your poor clit and hole completely off limits.

you're not sure if you tear up because of the thought that you can't get off, or because of the fact that the tip of Jungwon's cock keeps slamming against the back of your throat, but you quickly focus on relaxing your throat once more, trying not to choke too much as your boyfriend fucks your face, smirking when he sees you remember the chastity belt.

"aw, my poor little slut." he grins devilishly, driving his throbbing cock in and out of your throat. "can't even get off without me, hm?" he smirks at the way you look right now.

there's an almost dollike expression on your face. to him at least. your pupils are completely dilated as you try to keep eye contact with him, there's a bunch of drool running down the corner of your mouth, and dripping down your face and onto your pretty tits, the mixture of your saliva, tears, and his precum making him twitch in your throat.

Mmm," he hums, his hips undulating in a rhythm that matches his moans. His left hand lets go of your hair, now trailing down, he gropes your breast, squeezing and pinching one of your sensitive, hardened nipples. his thrusts don't slow down at all as he lazily plays with your tits while fucking your throat.

"fuck. I'm close." jungwon warns, his hips not stilling at all as he pistons in and out of your willing mouth. you're all too turned on right now, and he can tell by the way your arousal is leaking from the slit in the chastity belt and onto the floor while you choke on his cock.

the mere thought of you being so turned on yet so helpless makes his vision go white as his orgasm washes over him. his hips twitch uncontrollably as he shoots his load deep into your throat. his hands are now both gripping your head tightly as he keeps you right where he wants- no. where he needs you as he fills your throat with his pearly cum while moaning out.

he groans out, his hips jerking violently as he empties his cum down your throat. "Swallow." he commands, his grip tightening in your hair.

and you? you couldn't be happier. your own eyes roll back as you feel his cum invade your body. the way he's holding you down so tightly, his cock absolutely enveloped by your throat as he cums down it. you obediently swallow around him, the feeling of your throat convulsing around his length making him let out another deep groan.

your nose is buried into his neatly trimmed pubic hair as he holds you there for a few more seconds. he then pumps in and out of your mouth twice to ride out his high before finally pulling out, allowing you to catch your breath.

you pant, looking up at him with teary eyes and a messy face. "i swallowed.." you inform him in a timid tone, suddenly feeling a bit shy under his gaze.

"I know," he smirks, his hand moving to stroke your cheek gently while you open your mouth to show him you really did swallow all the cum he spilled inside. "such a good girl."

you look up at him pleadingly, whimpering softly. "please, wonnie.. it's not enough!" you complain once more, tugging on the stupid chastity belt in frustration.

Jungwon giggles softly, taking his pants and boxers off completely before leaning down to pick you up and take you into his arms, carrying you to the bed with ease.

you relax as he lays you down on the bed on your back, taking another good luck at your pretty little plugged up asshole, the ring around it making it even prettier.

he's always liked jewelry on you, after all.

his hand trails down and he strokes his throbbing cock once more, cursing softly when he realizes he's still achingly hard for you.

you whimper once more, spreading your legs a bit more and pulling them up to your chest, showing off my caged pussy and the jewel on the hilt of the buttplug.

"wonnie please.. just want your cock in me. I'll be a good girl, i swear. please?" you beg pathetically, tears now dripping down your sweet face due to the sheer frustration you felt at your needy pussy being so neglected. he wouldn't even touch your ass?

Jungwon simply smirks, cooing at you before leaning over you to kiss you passionately, his tongue sliding into your mouth to taste himself on your tongue as his hands trail down your body, resting on your tits as your legs wrap around his waist.

the tip of his cock leaks precum all over your caged pussy, the metal now coated in small spurts and smears of the pearly essence.

he kisses you a bit more, tongue exploring your mouth as one of his hands slide from groping your pretty tits to your hips before finding its way between your legs to gently tug the buttplug out.

you draw in a sharp breath at the intensity of his actions, a shiver running down your spine as he leans down to whisper in your ear as you feel the buttplug gently being pulled out of you.

"are you ready for me, baby..?"

2024 © wonniesdoll on TUMBLR. PLEASE DO NOT COPY, TRANSLATE OR REPOST.  

-

*screams internally* if u read to here idk i just planted a fat kiss on ur forehead mwah ily and I'm making an introduction post soon SO STAY TUNEDDDD

#enhypen smut #enhypen #jungwon smut #yang jungwon smut #enhypen hard hours #enhypen hard thoughts #jake smut #heeseung smut #jay smut #sunoo smut #niki smut #sunghoon smut

[dotster001]

If your still doing requests can you do a scenario where in the ghost bride event instead it’s the ghost groom and yuu is the one being captured as the bride

The Ghost Groom

Summary: Fem! Reader

CW: just like the ghost bride, the ghost groom has unrealistic expectations about what a princess is, Fem reader, reader gets kissed, but ooooh by whom?

A/N: figured this one was perfect for spooky week! I always enjoy giving the boys opportunities to be silly

One second you were resting in Ramshackle, the next a blue, and handsome, ghostly looking figure was gazing at you lovingly as you slept.

"Oh my God, is this sleep paralysis?" You whispered.

He giggled and booped your nose gently. "No silly. I'm just admiring my princess while she rests! Is there something wrong with that?"

You stiffened, and slowly creeped your hand over to hopefully wake Grim.

"Princess?" You asked nervously.

"Mhmm. I've searched so long for you. You can't blame me for just staring, right?"

"I think you are looking for someone else. I'm not a princess." Your hand finally reached Grim and you attempted to shake him awake.

He frowned. "Princess is a state of being. It's in the glint in your eyes, the quirk of your smile, your adorable furry companion, and your eccentric living quarters. Why, everything about you says, 'beautiful princess waiting for prince charming to save me!' But don't worry too much about it. Once we wed you will be a princess in title as well!"

"Huh?" You croaked out, hearing Grim groan out a confused sound, as some ghost knights approached the bed and pulled you along with them.

…..

"Headmage, the ghosts kicked us out of the school," Ace whined in Crowley's office.

"Headmage, what is going on?" Riddle asked.

"They took my sleeping spot," Leona grumbled.

"Oh, I suppose it is that time again," Crowley groaned, massaging his temples. "Every four years, on this night, the ghosts rise from the grave in search of a bride for the Ghost Prince. They'll be gone by morning. Nothing to worry about. Although," he paused thoughtfully, "usually they only camp out in Ramshackle. They don't tend to go much farther than the greenhouse. It's odd that they'd commandeer the school."

As if on cue, Grim burst into the room.

"Headmage! Some ghosts stole my henchhuman! You have to do something!"

Plan A

"I can't believe we agreed to this," Epel muttered bitterly.

The task force was made up of himself, Lilia, Vil, Silver, and Jamil. The "prettiest" members of the school.

The ones who could pretend they were women and get away with it.

"You want to save Y/N, yes? Then don't blow this, and remember your training," Vil snapped.

Epel grumbled and hiked up his skirts as he climbed a flight of stairs.

"Epel, the art of disguise is a very useful skill. It's something you can use for the rest of your life," Silver offered.

"Ah, that's my boy!" Lilia grinned, ruffling Silver's styled hair affectionately.

"I wouldn't do that, Vil might kill you," Jamil snickered.

The trip was long, and some of the task force had not walked in heels before, but they soon arrived in the dining hall.

"No, no, no! That is the wrong color! Everything must be perfect for my love and my special day!" The prince snapped at a ghost servant who was laying out a tablecloth.

And that's when they saw you. Dressed in a pearl white gown, a shimmering veil in your perfectly styled hair. You were covered in pearls and diamonds, and wearing an enormous, glowing, ring.

Oh. And you were tied down to a chair.

"Play it cool," Vil hissed to Epel, who was about to not play it cool.

Lilia stepped forward first, practically floating as he walked over to the prince in his large green ball gown.

"Your highness," he curtsied deeply, putting on a sweeter, higher pitched voice than normal. "We hope we are not too late. But we heard you were searching for a princess, and wanted to prove we were the truest princesses."

The ghost looked between you and Lilia, confusion on his face.

"But I've already picked my bride."

"They seem to be truer princesses than I am, Erik. At least give them a chance," you said hastily.

He pressed a hand to his chest in awe. "Your kindness knows no bounds! Truly, there can be no better bride than you! But to ease your heart," he turned back to Lilia. "You have permission to try and woo me."

Lilia curtsied again. "You are so kind. It is I! Princess Lilia! I can offer you a large kingdom, with many riches."

"But what is inside your heart, Princess Lilia. Do you have an animal companion?"

"I have a dragon!"

The prince gasped, and shot a bolt of blue lightning at Lilia, causing him to groan.

"A true princess must be rescued from dragons! She would never have a dragon companion!"

"Can't move," Lilia groaned. "Retreat." He hissed from his teeth, but it was too far, too late for them to escape now. Erik's eyes were on them.

"Your highness," Vil gave the most beautiful curtsy anyone had ever seen. "I have no animal companion, for my companion is my loyal hunter and bodyguard, who protects me from all the sins of the world."

"Hmm. That is very princess-like."

"This is so fucked up," you groaned.

"And you are very beautiful. Perhaps you are a true princess," he looked back at you thoughtfully, and your breath hitched. Were you about to be free?

"But Y/N is also a true princess."

"Oh please," Vil snorted. "As beautiful as she is, we all know I am the fairest."

You didn't feel as bad when Vil got struck with the blue lightning. It was well deserved, in your opinion.

"Comparing your beauty to another's is not very princess-like!"

Epel pushed Jamil forward, much to his dismay.

"Um. Your highness, I will bring you great gifts. My kingdom has," Jamil bit his lip nervously, "Jams. Lots of jams. Grape jam. Pear jam. Yam Jam."

"Yam Jam!" You tried to sound excited, hoping it would entice Erik. 

"And jellies!"

"Oh!"

"And spoons! Tiny spoons! How did they get so tiny?"

You gave a cough, and Jamil froze. Then you heard, "Snake Whisper."

"You are unworthy of Y/N, and will give them to me," he said smugly.

Erik raised a brow. Then screeched. "How dare you! I am a true Prince. Of course I am worthy of Y/N!"

Blue flashed and Jamil was frozen.

"So, snake whisper doesn't affect ghosts. Got it," Jamil muttered under his breath.

"Panicked, huh?" You snickered.

"A little, yeah," he whispered back.

Epel stepped forward next, giving an unenthusiastic curtsy.

"I'm Princess Epel," was all he offered.

"You are the one of the fairest maidens I've ever seen! Almost as fair as my Y/N. Don't you agree, my princess?" You nodded enthusiastically, but shivered as you saw Epel begin to shake with rage.

"Her petite frame! Her doe eyes! Why if our daughter is half as beautiful as her, I shall be a very proud man!"

"DAG NABBIT SHUT YER FLIPPIN MOUTH!" 

Erik froze, you stiffened, and Vil groaned in disappointment.

"Epel," he groaned. But the blue lightning was already flying.

"You're not a princess! You're a man! A crude man at that. You're not worthy of me, or my princess."

"COME CLOSER AN I'LL SHOW YOU EXACTLY WHAT I'M WORTHY OF!"

"Please gag him before he says something my princess shouldn't hear!" Erik cried, covering your ears, despite you having heard far worse from Epel in the past.

Once Epel was gagged, he turned to Silver. Who was, much to your dismay, asleep.

"Oh! This one must be a princess! She has a sleeping curse!"

"Maybe you should try to wake her?" You offered helpfully.

He looked at you, a tormented expression on his face.

"But I love you. And only true love's kiss can break the spell. Perhaps if I kiss you instead, our love will burst out and wake her! Minister, well begin now!"

"No! We can't begin! I, uh, I feel bad having a wedding while she's still asleep. And the dining hall isn't finished being decorated yet!" You cried. You'd been told by the ladies who dressed you "not to worry", that once you kissed Erik, you would be able to join his kingdom. His ghostly kingdom. No thanks.

You eyed Silver, hoping that the man who was typically the knight in shining armor would wake and save you. Nothing.

Erik sighed sweetly, pushing a stray strand of hair off your face.

"You're right. The wedding must be perfect. So where are my scones!" That last bit wasn't a question. It was an angry demand.

Crowley put down the mirror he'd been using to watch what the A team was doing.

"Well that was a disaster," he groaned.

"What a load of rubbish! He's literally looking for a princess from an old fashioned fairytale book! That's the only thing he'll let Y/N go for!" Ace shouted.

"It's kind of sweet, if you think about it," Deuce muttered.

"It's bullshit! No one's like that! It's an unrealistic expectation!" Ace snapped back.

"I know! I meant the part about Y/N!" Deuce snapped.

"Enough, cubs. It's obvious he has no intention of releasing Y/N. So we need a different plan," Leona said with a smirk, implying he already had a plan in mind.

"What were you thinking?" Crowley asked tiredly.

"The ghosts leave in the morning, no matter what. If they don't finish the marriage to Y/N, Y/N stays behind. So we just have to ensure the wedding can't happen."

Plan B

"Everyone understands their roles?" Leona asked.

Floyd, Ruggie, Jack, and Ortho nodded.

"Alright. Charge!" He shouted. The five slammed through the door, dead set on causing as much destruction as they could.

Leona began turning anything he could touch into sand; tables, decor, flowers, nothing was safe. 

Floyd smashed every food he could get his hands on, delighted giggles leaving his mouth at regular intervals.

Jack flipped tables, and fought off the guards who attempted to stop them.

Ortho blasted various parts of the hall, having way too much fun doing it.

Ruggie snuck through the crowd to where you and the "princesses" from Plan A were. But your chair wasn't there.

"It's a trap, isn't it," he asked Jamil.

"It wasn't supposed to be," he sighed tiredly.

Ruggie heard an inhuman screech, and felt his body go numb, unable to move.

"Damn," he muttered.

"How dare you? How dare you!!!!" Erik screamed, dragging you along by a rope lead. He must have forgone the chair, and decided to just numb you like the rest.

"You're ruining my special day! Our special day! How dare you!"

He zapped Jack, then Floyd, then Leona, then Ortho. All four verbally protested.

"Shut up! Look what you've done! We'll never finish in time!"

"Initializing death ray," Ortho began.

"No! Ortho! Sevens, please no death ray!" You screamed, quickly followed by everyone else protesting.

The boy pouted, but shut down the death ray anyway.

"I suppose we'll just have to have the wedding now," the ghost groom began.

"No!" You shouted. "I mean, I think my guests and I all agree we at least need a cake, right?"

Erik squished your cheeks together, hearts in his eyes.

"Anything for you, my princess!"

Everyone sighed in relief.

Crowley put down the mirror and looked at the remnants in his office.

"Any other bright ideas?"

Rook bowed deeply, "If he is searching for a fairytale, we must play along. Oui?"

Plan C

Rook lead the march towards the dining hall, his cape and rapier complimenting his outfit nicely. He looked over at his men. The entirety of Heartslaybul. There was no one else he would rather have serve as his knights. Even if they had a hard time getting into character.

"The cape is pulling at my neck," Deuce croaked.

"Then be better!" Ace snapped.

"I will behead both of you this instant,"Riddle hissed, coming off more as mom than knight to the fair Princess.

Cater meanwhile was trying to get a selfie in his knight outfit with Trey, while Trey wanted no part of it.

"C'mon, Trey! We look too good not to post!"

"I'm too focused on the possibility of Y/N dying to look good for a photo!"

They were an unusual group of knights. But still. Rook knew they would more than serve their purpose.

They arrived at the door, but this time, there was a ghost guarding it.

"Who goes there?"

"We're the princess' knights. If you take Y/N, we have to come with." Rook gave a well practiced flourish of a bow, which was mimicked by the men of Heartslaybul.

"Ah!" The guard said. "Of course, forgive us! We should have informed you immediately!" He opened the door, and the men walked through, uninhibited.

Meanwhile…

"Mmm my back hurts. I can't stay in one position for this long anymore," Lilia groaned.

"And I'm bored," Floyd pouted.

"I'm losing out on beauty sleep. My skin will not be forgiving."

"Big brother has been trying to call me home for an hour."

Lilia smiled sweetly at Erik. "Look, forget the cake. How bout you just give her the smoocharoo?"

"What?!?" You shouted. Was Lilia selling you out?

"He seems like a good guy. You'll be fine, Shrimpy."

"I literally won't be fine, that's the whole point!" You cried. But Erik seemed to be thinking. And that wasn't good.

"You'll die, but there's a chance you'll be at the Isle of Woe! Then you have to visit big brother and I!"

"Ortho no! Not you too!" 

"I mean, our guests are saying they don't need cake, my love," Erik whispered, his voice husky as he leaned in slightly.

"No!" You shouted.

"Smoocharoo. Smoocharoo." Lilia began the chant, but multiple voices quickly joined in.

The door burst open, interrupting the chant, and the kiss that was getting closer. You heaved a sigh of relief as you saw Rook and the Heartslaybul boys….all dressed like knights?

"Forgive our tardiness, your highness. Your beloved knights have finally arrived," Rook said loudly.

"Ah, yes. My knights. Good," you said, a fake grin filling your face.

"Your highness, the fact that you did not alert the princess' knights to your intentions, brings this whole arrangement into question," Riddle stepped up next the Rook, his eyes narrowed.

Erik's jaw dropped.

"Oh. You see I was so excited, I didn't…"

"You don't even have proof you can protect our Princess! Look at this room! It looks like a war happened here!" Cater gestured around as he joined the line.

"You're taking things out of context! I defended her, which is why she is still here!" Erik was beginning to get angry again.

Trey cleared his throat and stepped forward, "And what's this about no cake? Our princess deserves the finest of baked goods, which I am more than capable of providing. Do you have a kitchen nearby?"

"Yay! Trey approves of operation smoocharoo!" Ruggie shouted, leading to a couple chants of smoocharoo.

"Oh my sevens!" Ace shouted. "You all have zero dignity! No wonder you're frozen! You don't deserve to be moving with those attitudes!"

"What I meant was," Trey glared at Ace, attempting to keep more lightning at bay, "our Princess deserves the best, and I don't believe you've provided it."

They seemed to have finally gotten through to him. Until Deuce's sword belt just…fell off.

"You aren't real knights!" All five were frozen in one blast.

Rook giggled, "Ah well, we tried to save you. And the bitter defeat, and pure sorrow we will feel at your loss will fuel many a work of art!"

"Thanks Rook," you growled sarcastically.

To dig the dagger deeper into your heart, it was at that moment that the new cake arrived.

"Finally! I can be wed to my Princess!" He dragged your rope lead over to an area that had flowers arranged, and stood you in front of the minister. Funny enough, the minister was self aware and never asked for your consent.

"Then by the powers vested in me-"

"I object!" A voice cried out.

Plan D

You turned your head to see Azul, flanked by Jade and Sebek. Azul wore a crown, and was dressed in the very image of a fairytale prince. Sebek and Jade were in full armor.

"You have stolen my Princess!" Azul said authoritatively.

"Y/N's my princess!" Erik hissed, his impatience finally getting the best of him.

"I have a document right here, between the Princess and I, stating an intent to marry, and join our two kingdoms, for love of each other. You may compare the signature to that of the princess, but you'll find it's quite authentic."

Erik stared at the document in his hands, and suddenly his blue glow turned bright red, nearly blinding all of you.

"No! Y/N IS MY PRINCESS! A PIECE OF PAPER ISN'T GOING TO CHANGE THAT!" You'd only been scared of him before because his kiss meant death. Now you were just scared of him in general. 

"Your highness," One of his ghost knights spoke up. "A true Prince would at least look, and honor the document, lest he becomes the villain." 

Erik took a calming breath, his color going back to blue, and put on a tight smile.

"You're right. Okay, show me your contract."

Azul smiled, and handed him the golden document. He read it over, then looked at you with a heartbroken expression.

"You truly are in love with this Prince Azul? He is your fairytale Prince?" 

Azul smiled smugly at you, and you fought back an eye roll as you nodded sweetly.

"Then I suppose I have to let you go," and suddenly the numbness of your body ceased, and you were able to move. You inhaled heavily.

He looked up into the windows of the dining hall. The sun was starting to rise.

He looked at you sadly, and gently cupped your cheek.  

"I wish you every happiness."

And you couldn't help but believe him.

"Before I go again, my princess, er, your princess, deserves her kiss," Erik whispered. You held back a dry heave at Azul's mock bravado.

"Anything to ease your parting, your highness!" He stalked towards you, and you saw Jade snicker over his shoulder, while Sebek turned bright red.

"Princess?" Azul said with a smirk, though now that he was up close, you could see a tinge of pink over his cheeks.

"Ew, please don't," Ace muttered, but he was struck by blue lightning again.

Deciding to suck it up, you grabbed Azul by the collar, and pressed your lips to his. His eyes widened in shock, his face going bright red, but after a moment, he relaxed.  

"Get it, Azul!" Floyd shouted, and he immediately separated himself from you. 

"There, may you rest in comfort," Azul said, an arm around your shoulders, but his red cheeks showed no sign of fading.

"Thank you," Erik smiled softly at you, and all the ghosts faded one by one.

You and Azul stepped away from each other the second the last ghost vanished.

All the people stretched as they became unnumbed, groaning.

"Well that sucked,"Leona grumbled.

"I'll never get the image of Azul kissing Y/N out of my head," Ace moaned.

Epel gagged next to him, as he ripped off the ball gown he was wearing.

"Now what?" Vil groaned, massaging his neck.

The door slammed open.

Plan Party

"Ha! While you guys were busy, the headmage put us in charge of victory party planning!" Kalim announced, his crew following him slowly. One seemed confused, the other didn't want to be there.

"Absolute nightmare. I got the bad end today," Idia muttered as he hid behind the stacks of food Kalim had given him to carry.

Malleus looked around the venue in full confusion. Then he looked sad. 

"Was there a wedding, and I wasn't invited?"

"Don't worry, Tsunotarou, I wasn't really invited either," you said bitterly. This made him smile sweetly, until he saw your outfit, making him confused again.

"But you're the one wearing the wedding gown?"

"Don't worry about it," you muttered. You turned to Kalim. 

"What do you mean you were in charge of the victory party?"

"Well, Malleus and I weren't allowed to try and help, and Idia was busy, so after the headmage sent out operation fairytale prince, he told us to start preparing for the after party!"

You blinked a couple times, then yawned.

"Can we party tomorrow? I'm going to bed."

You ripped off your veil, threw it on the floor, then left the dining hall.

"Quick! Azul! Go after her!"

"Shut your mouth, Floyd!"

It was at that moment, Silver woke up. He looked around in confusion, then frowned at Lilia.

"Did we win, Father?"

"That we did my boy! That we did!"

#twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland x reader

[hyunnie04]

puppy love

inspired by that one scene in skip and loafer where mitsumi pets shima's hair;; not my best but its cute jskfdh

kim seungmin x reader

genre: fluff, non-idol au

you have been staring at seungmin the entire day. not because of anything bad, it’s just that there's this one thing that has been bothering you lately. propping your fist against your chin, you let out a burdened sigh.

ever since he had dyed his hair this captivating caramel color at the start of senior year, which was only a few weeks ago, you can’t seem to get your eyes off him. 

the change was refreshing, like seeing him in a completely different light. it had suited him so well, the blondish gold complemented his features like it was supposed to be like that from the start.

whenever you would place your curious gaze on him, the gears in your mind start turning, unable to place your finger on what it reminded you of. it had definitely started to become sort of a routine for you.

you’re also pretty sure seungmin had figured out you have been burning holes at the back of his head during lectures or lunch. he would sometimes look back at you with a quirk of his lip and a questioning gaze, making you shift your focus to somewhere else, cheeks reddening like a child catching glimpses of their crush.

but now you are sure he looked like someone. but who? you’re trying to figure that out yourself.

you don’t know where this sudden fascination with his hair came from, was it because it made him look so handsome? or maybe the way it looked very cute whenever it flopped around when he moved? 

confused feelings for the caramel haired boy aside, you decide to let it go.

you were hanging out with the man himself and a bunch of other friends one afternoon and started scrolling through your phone. they wouldn’t mind, seeing as to how all of them were currently preoccupied with playing a board game.

“hey, you can’t just do that! you have to give me money!”

“i can do whatever i want!”

you subconsciously block the noise coming from your rowdy friends, very much used to the chaotic nature. your thumb landed on a really adorable picture of your sweet little puppy back at home, already missing him. a thought instantly strikes you.    

you look up from your phone. and then to seungmin. and then back to your phone. 

it’s the exact same?!

you’ve finally cracked it. he looked exactly like your family dog. comparing him to an actual dog sounded mean, but you meant this genuinely as a compliment, you absolutely adored your golden retriever puppy- haru, more than your own family. the longer you thought about it, it’s sweet demeanor and honey colored coat resembled kim seungmin right in front of you.

after thinking about this revelation, you kept it to yourself, out of context it could sound mean. the last thing you wanted was to offend someone when you meant it in an endearing way.

so upon walking home one day, hurried footsteps trailed behind yours, prompting you to turn to see who it was. it was seungmin himself, his hair flopping in the wind, resembling the cutest pair of puppy ears.

he finally stopped, panting heavily after chasing you for a good while now. he straightened up, opening his adorable mouth to say something to you.

you couldn’t help yourself, the thought of wanting to feel his soft looking hair.

“haru-” you cover your mouth as soon as the words left it, extremely mortified to have said it out loud.

“haru? who’s that?” seungmin teases your increasingly flustered state. “are you mistaking me for someone else?” it was too late, you have to explain now.

“no...its...my…family’s dog…” you blurted out, embarrassed of saying it in front of him. you had fully expected him to get mad but he doesn’t. instead, seungmin lets out a chuckle, his eyes crinkling in what seems to be delight.

“well, my hair is really soft.” he watches your face morph into confusion as he tucks his hands coyly into his pockets. he wasn’t mad?

 “do you want to touch? you've been staring at it all week.”

seungmin wasn’t known for being touchy with his friends or anyone for that matter so you can imagine the shock on your face when he leans down to your level, silently allowing you to do so.

placing a hesitant touch on his honey hued locks with one hand, you slowly bring your other to ruffle his head, really going at it and much like you would do to haru. a grin graces your features as his strands get messed up, absolutely elated that you now know what his hair feels like.

once you were done, he straightens up and pats his messy hair back in its place as best as he can. seungmin quietly wraps an arm around your shoulder, as if nothing happened.

“got it out of your system?” you nod gleefully.

“good, now i can ask you out for a date.”

#skz x reader #stray kids x reader #skz scenarios #seungmin #seungmin x reader #kim seungmin x reader #seungmin fluff #skz fluff #stray kids imagines #skz imagines #stray kids scenarios #stray kids x you #stray kids fluff