#wedding crashers [asks] | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

predestinatos · 4 months

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'tis the season, i guess — CL16

pairing: charles leclerc x fem!reader

summary: cold winter days bring unexpected company to your bookshop. or in which your ex needs help choosing a book for his girlfriend.

words: 3.5k

tags: angst, SO much angst, dark academia vibes for some reason?, genuinely heartbreaking. some fluff but not much!

note: this was based off of this request but i got a bit carried away and wrote a whole thing! also am now obsessed with listening to sabrina carpenter... i hope everyone likes this even though it is very painful, but lmk your thoughts pls!!

The bookshop was basically empty, all the noise you could hear being yourself trying to rearrange the books in alphabetical order, and soft music playing in the background.

you stood on your tiptoes in order to reach a book at the top of the shelf, knowing a bench was available but being too lazy to go get it. Wuthering Heights refused to reach your fingertips despite your efforts and soft curses to yourself a bit louder than usual due to the emptiness of the shop.

"Need help?" a male voice called from behind, causing you to roll your eyes. Here we go, you thought to yourself, another man who catches you alone in the shop and tried to hit on you, and you'll have to find him funny and play delighted to be in his presence despite how bothersome he is, despite the ring on his finger.

"No, I'm okay, really-" you started replying, putting on your best customer service smile, fixing your hair as you turned around to face the stranger. but the person who you faced wasn't a stranger in the slightest.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to scare you" he said as he reached behind you for Wuthering Heights, taking him zero effort to do so, increasing your frustration and disbelief.

those brief moments of closeness brought to you a thousand heart clenching memories, time standing still as his scent hit you softly.

"Try this one" you tried to stop giggling as you held the dark brown bottle in your hands and asked for his wrist.

"Tobacco Vanille? I don't want to smell like cigarettes!!" he joked, although he let you spray his wrist gently, so happy just for the sole fact that you were happy.

Your smiles reached your eyes as they met for brief seconds, waiting for the smell to hit his skin. Reactions weren't needed as your expressions turned from smiling to shocked, mouths widening at the scent that seemed to fill you both.

"It's AMAZING!" you half screamed excitedly as he smelled his wrist in confirmation. "Charlie, it smells so good I could eat you right now!"

He laughed at the nickname, at how pretty you looked, at how simple it all was. He kept laughing with the perfume in a perfectly wrapped package in his hand, the other holding yours.

"Uhm, hi" you said, as his big familiar hands stretched out to hand you the book, which you hugged tightly to your chest in an attempt to hide or disappear in it, you weren't sure "Thanks."

"No problem" he replied politely, almost annoyingly so, the tiptoeing already starting before more than a few words could be uttered, his hands in his pockets as he looked everywhere but you.

It was uncomfortable - the silence, the stillness, how both of you stood there like ghosts, waiting for some direction, something to do, something to happen. "So uhm... what brings you here?"

"Oh, I'm a wedding crasher" the stranger next to you replied, black tuxedo slightly touching your arm, a drink in his hand and shirt slightly unbuttoned.

"Really?" your eyebrows raised as you took in what he said and his appearance – the nose, especially the nose.

He laughed slightly, taking a sip of his drink and looking back at you "no, I'm friends with the bride," his finger pointed in the direction of the beautiful woman dressed in white, but all you could see was how big his hands were, adorned with rings. "And you?"

"I am an actual wedding crasher" you replied, cheeky smile adorning your lips despite the shyness you felt as your eyes locked with his. It was his time to raise his eyebrows and your turn to take a sip of beer as he repeated what you had asked seconds before. "Really?"

"No, I'm friends with the groom" you replied winking, enjoying the stranger's company and humor, his smile causing small dimples to appear in his cheeks as he looked down at his lap.

"You got me," his hand suddenly stretched towards you, palm open and inviting, "I'm Charles."

He kept shrugging and avoiding your eyes, despite the fact that he had willingly chosen to go to the place where you worked. It was making you impatient and angry, those emotions replacing the initial shock and sadness.

"I need your help choosing a book," his voice sounded weak and embarassed, shame coming through every vowel. You stood still, waiting for him to continue, wishing he'd speak faster, explain himself already or just leave and forget he even came. "For my girlfriend"

Those words twisted inside you like a sharpened knife that knew the cut would merely hurt, not kill. Despite that, you knew better, you refused to let him notice any sort of hint of how that information affected you. "Oh wow," was all you could say at first, turning around to keep placing books in shelves, distracting at least your body since your mind was restless "birthday?"

"Uh? Oh no, 6-month anniversary" he muttered, almost inaudibly. You were too aware suddenly of how your clothes felt on you, how ironic red was in the necklace you were wearing as you placed Anne Boleyn's biography in its correct place, tight between the other books. You refused to look to him now, nodding intensively so he would understand that you had heard what he said, your skin prickling as you struggled to move. Calculations ran through your mind, trying to place those 6 months in the timeline of both of your lives as he moved awkwardly behind you.

"It's funny actually, she really loves reading, I guess I do have a typ-" he began, trying to lighten the mood, but each word he said felt like another grain of salt being thrown at the open wound that was your heart.

“What does she like to read?” you interrupted him, purposefully so, knowing how clear your intention to move from the subject was.

“I read a bit of everything, but I love the classics,” you said as the cappuccinos arrived and sat prettily in the café’s table. You stared at Charles as he stared at you; his entire expression seemed to give you undivided attention, registering every word and movement of yours. He smiled at all the correct times, nodded at your statements and frowned at certain parts of your narrative almost as if he had been custom made for you.

“What’s your favorite book?” he continued, sipping his drink, some foam remaining on his top lip, a feature you smiled softly at, bravely leaning over with a napkin and cleaning it. “Thank you” he said as he noticed your blushing expression, his way of both reassuring you and brushing it off as something mundane, and you bit your lip, holding back a bigger smile than necessary.

“This is such a cliché,” you started, rolling your eyes at your answer, trying your best not to say it. “Go on” his hand suddenly stretched towards yours, resting on top of it gently, like a sheet perfectly fitted for a bed. Your body burned with the touch, what is symbolized, what it promised silently in that small café.

“It’s Catcher in the Rye,” you both burst out laughing.

“She loves Fitzgerald,” his hands touched random books, looking for something to do, fixing them, opening some of them and putting them back in place, reading the backs of them as if he was paying attention to anything they said.

“Good taste,” you tried the compliment route. You didn’t want to sound bitter, and you weren’t bitter. It was just a lot to take in so fast, his presence as painful as his words, the way both made you feel so small for such a big place, so big for such a tight room.

“That's the best thing a girl can be in this world, a beautiful little fool,” you quoted the author as you contemplated the choices available for a lover of Fitzgerald. Work could fill your mind. Pretending it was just one more client made it easier. “Any other author or book? Help me out, Charli- Charles” you cut yourself off before the nickname could come out, hoping he wouldn’t notice, knowing that he did. You felt his entire body tense behind you as yours did, making it seem like a picture frozen in time in place, The Star-Crossed Lovers.

Charles seemed so silent that you unconsciously felt yourself turning back to check if he was still there, if he hadn’t been a fragment of your imagination after all. He stood in place, for a moment his eyes looked at you as if they hadn’t seen you in his entire life, examined you as if you were as unknown as letters in a freshly printed page. That soon faded as he snapped back to reality, registering the question with incredible delay. “Faulkner. She also likes Faulkner.”

“Aaaand Faulkner is done” you brushed some of the dust off of your hands as you stood up, looking at the now organized Classics section. “At least for the next week! Thank you for staying with me, by the way,” you said to the phone, as its screen indicated that you had been on a call for 2:45:17 hours.

“No problem,” Charles smiled. You knew he did although you didn’t see him, and that sheer though made you smile as well. “Can you do me a favour though?” he asked, his voice filled with excitement, a puppy-like tone that you cherished “open the door, I’m freezing.”

At first you were confused at his request, and you were close to questioning it until it hit you. You didn’t believe it. There could be no way he was- you rushed to the bookshop’s door, opening it while still holding your phone. Heart racing, you opened the door and saw Charles’ frame standing there, the lights illuminating his red cheeks and nose from the cold, one hand awkwardly holding the cellphone, the other trying to balance two warm drinks. He was wearing a beanie that made him look younger, softer, a puffer jacket that seemed to hug him perfectly- “Is there a code or something?” he jokingly asked, his breath visible due to the cold air outside, and you realized you had been staring for too long. You stood aside, turning the phone off as he placed the cups on the counter and removed his extra clothes.

“You didn’t have to,” you started. “I wanted to.” “You’re so sweet I could kiss you right now.” “Do it, then.”

You started browsing through the spines of the books in the shelves in front of you, looking for answers to more than one question, relying on pulling you sleeves down to your hands to mask your nervousness.

“How have you been, though?” his voice made you jump a bit, pulling you back to reality as you pulled 2 books and held them against your chest with one hand, trying to keep them from falling by lifting a leg – an awkward stance, you were sure. “Great, actually” you replied, unconvincingly so.

Things were hard after what happened with Charles, and you had taken many different routes to get over it all at first – waking up hungover in strangers’ beds, not leaving the house, breaking hearts for fun, letting people use you for fun, meaningless moment after meaningless moment, where the highlight would be hearing a voice that sounded even slightly similar to his. They got slightly better, of course, a year had passed, you could function, yet it hadn’t scarred yet – it wasn’t even close. The wound was open and bleeding and hideous and his presence, his voice, his smell, his request, it all just made the blood spill harder.

“Really?” “Hmhm,” a nod. A cough from behind you, making you turn around. His face was stern, serious. Charles was considering if coming was a good idea, what even drove him to do it in the first place. There were so many bookshops, so many other gifts he could give, yet he felt like showing up, like seeing you, at least once. Now he was there and he felt peculiar. Something close to guilt crawled on his chest, but he wasn’t sure what he was feeling guilty of, which in turn intensified his guilt.

You reached for a third book, and as you did so, the ones you were holding fell once again on the old wooden floorboards. “Shit” you muttered, crouching to grab them as Charles did the same, you two being so familiarly close, the irony of the cliché overwhelming the both of you. Getting up, Charles felt the need to offer his hand for you to hold, a support you refused to take and acknowledge, pretending you didn’t see it when it reality it seemed to be screaming at you loudly and intensely.

“So here are my recommendations, I guess” you sighed, letting him assume it was due to tiredness, knowing that he wouldn’t. Placing the 3 books on the nearest table, they faced the both of you as you stood next to each other, his arm brushing against yours, eyebrows furrowed as he examined their covers and details carefully.

Mrs. Dalloway, Age of Innocence, and One Hundred Years of Solitude sat perfectly, yet stared at the both of you defiantly, knowing their words could cut through both of your souls if they pleased.

“Don’t let yourself die without knowing the wonder of fucking with love” Charles read aloud, laying in your bed next to you, your head resting gently on his chest as you felt him laugh softly, lying naked in . “You’re right, I think I like this author.”

You laughed alongside him, both unaware of the fact that you were laughing for different reasons.

Charles’ eyes glanced quickly towards you, the same memory haunting your minds as if you were locked in a cinema of nostalgia. Shyly, his hand reached towards the hardback edition of Age of Innocence, its soft colors drawing him attention when the other options were either too painful to grab or not as tempting for his eyes.

You leaned against the polished table, looking at the way he touched the pages tenderly, fingers brushing them with a softness that reminded you of times that had gone by yet seemed to close and so recent.

His features seemed so focused, eyes moving slowly across each sentence, eyelashes prettily adorning them, his throat bobbing up and down as he swallowed dryly. He almost seemed unreal, a mirage of a stranger who was once so familiar to you, breaking the spell when he chuckled softly. “What?” you asked, whispering, too afraid that a sudden movement might make him disappear entirely. The normalcy of the moment was as terrifying as it was comforting, a moment in which it seemed like you two were the same again. “Nothing it’s just, one of the sentences I stumbled upon…”

“Which one?” you rested your chin in your hand while looking up at him, forgetting the previous moments, the previous year, every previous instance in its entirety as he looked back down at you and bit his lip nervously.

“I want somehow to get away with you into a world where words like that -categories like that- won't exist. Where we shall be simply two human beings who love each other, who are the whole of life to each other; and nothing else on earth will matter.” the room went cold and silent as the night.

“I can’t give you a relationship” he stood in his own kitchen like a foreigner, a man you almost did not recognize. “Why not?” “Because I don’t do relationships and I don’t like labels and I don’t want to hurt you by convincing you that I can.”

Your ears rung as you fought back tears. You wouldn’t cry. You were too proud for that, to show him this mattered way more to you than to him. “If you don’t want to hurt me then try, Charles.”

He shrugged, arms opened in defeat and eyes looking at the window, the snow falling down outside, locking you both in this confrontation. “I can’t.” Frustration invaded your bones and skin as you asked why once again, though your voice was tired and broken.

“It’s not because of you, I just- Can’t I just love you?” “That’s what I’m asking you to do by staying,” you reply cut like ice, and as he moved closer to you and held your face in his hands, you knew you had lost. “I can’t. Because I can’t do relationships.”

“But you will” you pushed him away as you left, knowing you were leaving your toothbrush, spare underwear, and heart there.

He interrupted the stillness before you did, clearing his throat and his mind, failing to relieve you of the pain of the past. “I’ll take this one” he said, now too polite, too frigid to go back.

You held the book and moved towards the counter, aware of his footsteps behind you, following you. You knew he was doing it because he had to pay, because he was a customer, because that’s what you’re supposed to do – yet part of you wanted it to be for a different reason, wanted his hand to suddenly reach for your wrist and tell you it was all a lie, a big prank, he was sorry and he took it all back.

You wanted him to say something daring enough for you to explode at him, to scream everything you’ve been holding inside for a year, to go back to that kitchen and its dimmed lights. To dare yourself to ask how dare he come into your workplace and throw everything at you, all politeness and fragrance and small talk, like it was nothing when you felt everything.

Instead, you wrapped the present nicely, placing a bright ribbon at the top while he fidgeted with his wallet from the other side of the counter. It was almost done, this exchange, and you didn’t know how to feel anymore. You were tired. So tired.

“Why did you come here?” you asked, facing him fully, staring at his green eyes that tried their best to hold your gaze. “Seriously, Charles, why did you come here?”

At first, he stayed silent. You refused to break the silence this time, even if he left without an answer you knew you had asked it, you did not save it for late nights lying awake. “I know you think I didn’t love you, but I do” he said.

It didn’t seem like a reply to your question, it seemed like a statement he was waiting to get out since the moment he walked in, the phrasing odd with its verbs being intentionally used in different tenses that didn’t seem to matter, at least not anymore. All you could do was laugh in disbelief, anger, or hurt, or a mix of both spreading throughout your body.

“You were- are- very important to me. You helped me realize a lot of things and if I could, I would go back in time in a heartbeat. But I can’t” he grabbed the present, hinting at the fact that he was going to leave, yet it didn’t seem fair to you. This wasn’t an apology, and was nowhere close to it, your hands trembling were a proof of such.

“You never can” you raised your chin, pride fighting against hurt as tears threatened to roll down your cheeks, jaw tense and firm, “not when it comes to me.” And there it was. What you both knew was true, said aloud like a forbidden fruit that was now bit into.

“It’s more complicated than that. And it’s alright for you to hate me, but I genuinely do love you. I care about you and think about you more than I should-“

“Do you love her?” it was a stupid question, and you knew that. You knew whatever answer he gave you would be a slap in the face, unsatisfying and painful either way. You hated yourself for the slight jealousy you felt towards a woman you barely knew, who wasn’t at fault at all, whose only problem was being too lovable.

“I do. I wouldn’t have known that if it wasn’t for you” “Oh wow. Thanks for that one” you crossed your arms across your chest, making yourself smaller, trying to hide while looking at the clock – 15 minutes left until the shop closes. 15 minutes left of the last time you’ll ever see him.

“Why wasn’t it enough? Why wasn’t I enough?” he wanted to reach for you and hold you, a moment of involuntary movement almost drove him to do something he couldn’t possibly do, not anymore, at least. You looked at his sudden jerk of movement, how he stopped as if his muscles burned and prevented him from acting upon his instincts. It was the best answer he could’ve given you.

“I’m selfish. I want to look at a bookshelf and know a piece of you is there. I know I’ll never fucking see you again, and I’ll leave you alone, but God I need something to remind myself that you’re real” he said, eyes closing in shame or frustration, you couldn’t say.

“You took a part of me with you that night. And I’ll never get it back. And you walked in today and took a bit more. More than that book. And every time I think of you, you take another piece. So when you look at that book, think of your girlfriend. I am real. But what we had wasn’t. Not anymore.”

You started closing the register, ignoring his presence, hoping he’d go away. The only reason you noticed him leaving was the small bell that rang as he opened and closed the door, and you finally succumbed and let the tears run free.

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sourlove · 8 days

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Wedding Crasher ~ Part II of 'Street Rat' YANDERE BAKUGO KATSUKI

TW: OBSESSION, KIDNAPPING, MURDER, VIOLENCE, GORE, YANDERE THEMES

A/N: This was in very high demand so I hope you guys enjoy! Thanks for all the support xxx

READ PART 1 HERE

(Female Reader)

One cold, dark evening, Bakugo Katsuki walked away from the store you worked at and never came back.

Part of you couldn't care less. Another annoyingly persistent part of you cared far too much. It didn't make sense to you. Katsuki was nothing, and yet you still found yourself searching for those scarlet eyes in a crowd. The eyes that never drifted away as if they were anchored on your visage. Sometimes, in the quiet of your mind, you wondered if anybody would ever look at you like that again.

"Y/N, smile!"

Your cheeks hurt as your lips pulled into a wide grin. When you thought back on it, agreeing to marry the first wealthy man that asked might not have been the best idea.

"You lucky bastard!" One of Yuto's drunk friends laughed loudly, as he slung an arm around you carelessly. His breath stunk with expensive alcohol when he leaned in too close to you. "How did you end up pulling a girl like this when you look like that?"

The group laughed at that and you tittered along dutifully. Yuto smirked. "Laugh all you want but she was all over me from the start."

His friend (what was his name again?) groaned dramatically and your resisted the urge to push him off. Just a few more hours, you thought, and we can go home.

"Come on man, just tell us what you did!"

Yuto shrugged and sipped his drink. "You know girls like her. All they need to see is you throwing some money around and they practically throw themselves at you."

Everyone laughed again, voicing their agreement as if you weren't standing there, still smiling like a fool. It was true that Yuto and his friends were in a much higher tax bracket than you but it wasn't like he thought you were some kind of gold-digger.

...right?

The drunkard, whose name you still couldn't recall, leered down at you, bony fingers digging into your hip. "So she's that kind of girl huh?" His breath reeked. "Tell you what, I've got a five dollar bill, do ya think she'll let me get lucky tonight?"

This time, the only people that laughed were Yuto and his smelly little friend, though by the way his hand kept creeping downwards, you could tell it wasn't a joke. The crowd sort of chuckled awkwardly, many of them glancing at you, and you realized you had stopped smiling for the first time since morning.

Kenji. You remembered his name now. When you looked at him, all you could see was your reflection in the display area of the shop, looking down with a pompous, self-satisfied smirk. As if you were untouchable. The only difference was that you were the one being looked down on. The same way you looked down on Katsuki.

Kenji was still laughing when you swung, fist hitting his throat dead on. You watched impassively as he choked and coughed, eyes bulging nearly out of his sockets. Someone screamed and the creep gaped at you, holding his throat. You hoped it would bruise.

"Your breath fucking stinks," you hissed, just as Yuto pulled you away into the garden, away from the wedding reception. You stumbled and tripped but your husband's harsh grip on your arm kept you moving, deeper and deeper into the dark garden maze. The thought of a steamy escapade in the dark of night would have been promising any other time. But not this time.

You expected Yuto to be angry but you didn't expect him to slap you across the face. "What the fuck is wrong with you?! Do you know who you just hit right now?!"

"I could ask you the same."

The sudden voice made both of you jump. What you thought was a shadow shifted, revealing a large, broad frame of a man. He towered over Yuto, who was fairly tall, to his credit, but you could barely make out any features other than his light colored hair.

"And who the fuck are you?" Yuto snarled. "This is a private garden!"

The figure didn't move but Yuto surged forward, perhaps in some convoluted attempt to seem threatening. You wanted to tell him to stop, that something felt dangerous about this man but the stranger beat you to it.

There was a loud crack and you gasped when Yuto fell, struck down by the stranger's weapon. He stepped closer and a beam of moonlight fell over his face, highlighting chiseled yet familiar features. Your breath halted in your chest.

Bakugo Katsuki squatted down and fisted Yuto's hair, dragging him up to face level. "I asked you, do you know who you just hit?" The bat he used was covered in nails and a dark red substance you figured was blood, part of which was flowing from your husband's head.

"P-please," he stammered, all bravado gone. "I didn't d-do anything..."

A scowl marred Bakugo's features and he released Yuto's head, standing up. "Wrong answer, asshole." The spiked bat curved in a powerful arc in the sky before landing on Yuto's face. Again and again and again until he stopped screaming and only gurgled noises came from the mess of blood and flesh that used to be a human face.

You were paralyzed with fear, from the beginning of the assault until Bakugo finally locked eyes with you. Your knees gave way and you slumped to the ground, tears spilling uncontrollably. "Oh god, oh god, p-please- don't kill me...!"

Those eyes, those terrible scarlet eyes that you had stared down at from your pedestal, darkened. "Y/N..."

He recognized you. You sobbed and curled up protectively. "Please I'm sorry, please j-just don't kill me, I'm sorry, I'm so fucking sorry, I-"

This was it, the moment he would take his revenge on you for all those years of dismissal and mockery. Bakugo frowned and moved towards you but you immediately scrambled up, intending to run further into the garden. You had to at least try to get away.

But Bakugo was much faster and stronger than the scrawny kid you remembered. You barely took two steps before he had caught you, hooking a thick arm around your neck despite your screams and struggles.

"Don't worry, baby, everything will be okay once I take you home."

Darkness creeped into your vision and the last thing you saw was the scarlet blood on your dress that only reminded you of those terrible, terrible eyes.

READ PART 3 HERE

A/N: if you liked this, please like, repost and drop a comment or request!

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miraculousfanworks · 7 days

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Writing Prompt: The Invited Wedding Crasher

AU: Adrien has been homeschooled until he graduated and never met Marinette, Alya or Nino

Alya once read that people should send wedding invitations to rich people because their secretaries would just dismiss it and send expensive gifts or even just money, so she wants to try it out for fun for her and Nino's wedding by inviting Adrien Agreste. Little does she know that Adrien, while initially confused because he doesn't know these people, is absolutely thrilled because he has never been at a wedding before. He ends up contacting Marinette, Alya's bridesmaid who organises a large bulk of the wedding, to ask for gift ideas and the dress code and other such things. Meanwhile Marinette has no idea how to deal with this situation since neither of them had expected Alya's crazy plan to actually work, much less to get that celebrity to actually want to come to the wedding.

wedding shenanigans basically + Adrinette bonding

Prompt by: Lilafly

#miraculous fanworks #miraculous ladybug #writing prompt #fanfiction prompt #lovesquare #djwifi

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lanusky-the-imparity-goddess · 2 years

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... What?

Is this- her arm?

#my word is law [ic post]#wedding crashers [asks]#a ransom note

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just-a-cup-of-anxietea · 1 year

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You changed your icon!! It's so pretty!

I did!! Thank you! It’s an old art project recreation of a painting my friend gave me years ago. It also happens to be the very first thing I EVER made on procreate, which is insane to think about. To me it symbolizes an interest in learning new things (art skills) just for fun/just to try them and see what it’s like AND a general love/fascination of fantastical nature things (PRETTY COLORFUL SKY!)! I’ve considered recreating this recreation image, now that I kind of know what I’m doing on Procreate, but I like that this one is still rough around the edges. It’s a stepping stone project!

That’s a lot of information! But there you go!

#asks #Grace speaks #answered #bryn #bryn twin #daydreaming optimist #road trip buddy #wedding crasher buddy #baking buddy #cafe opening buddy #is that a tag we’ve used? I can’t remember all the tags we use #they’re really accumulating these nicknames

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daydreaming-optimist · 1 year

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Flower crown, lace, oil paints, and one of your choice! 💕

flower crown - when did you last sing to yourself?

a couple of minutes ago! I was singing another life from bridges of madison county :)

lace - when was your last 3am conversation with someone, and who were they to you?

I think it was a week or two ago? my best friend called and we talked about all sorts of stuff, we've known each other since we were 7 and she's basically my sister, but she lives on the other side of the country so we don't get to talk much

oil paints - what would you title the autobiography of your life so far?

oh gosh, I don't know! what's the theme of my life anyway? wait, am I allowed to use someone else's quote as my title? can my title be Mostly, I Want to be Kind? idk, I'm officially taking suggestions for the title of my autobiography

plants (my choice!) - pick a person to stargaze with you and explain why you picked them

I'd love to go stargazing with you! I think it would be so fun, and we could make up our own constellations, and make up stories for them, and look at the pretty lights overhead, and oh! we could make it a moonlight picnic too! so many possibilities and all of them are lovely and wonderful

~~~

aesthetic asks

#ok but bestie seriously we should go stargazing #and maybe while we're doing that we can figure out the titles of our autobiographies together :)#answered asks #ask game #mutuals #baking buddy tag #road trip buddy tag #wedding crasher buddy tag #tea and bookstore buddy tag #wow we really do have a lot of these

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daze4all · 3 months

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Imagine: Wedding Crasher! Blade

Imagine: Wedding Crasher! Blade kidnaps Groom! Dan Heng’s bride as in “Your wife is my wife” because we were once married, I have the jade bracers and earrings as proof. Lol.

Serious Take: Traditional red Chinese wedding vs comedic white western classic wedding gone wrong scenario

Blade defeats the guard escorting the wedding procession defeats guard and steals bride away from wedding palanquin

Does so to confront Dan Heng in fight/talk

Originally bride worried about Dan Heng past and now it come to haunt them both in Blade who says must pay the price.

Red wedding veil curation move aisde think it intended bridegroom but instead jealous blade.

Dan Heng goes to save bride reader confront blade.

Somehow end happily?

10x funnier if bride is Trailblazer MC for 10x chaos

Blade Steals the bride in a bridal carry and Dan Heng spars to get her back or he scoop up Dan Heng instead and stelle chases after lol

Silver wolf & Kafka outside waiting with getaway car.

Comedic : In a comedic white western classic wedding gone wrong scenario:

Perfect white wedding all character there, belabogs gepard and bronya, and crew, the loufu jing yuan and yanqing .

Front pew as fam the star rail crew march best bridesmaid, himeko happy mother-in-law

dad welt blowing his nose as proud father said wasn’t going to cry but is at omg my kids getting married thank god.

-The priest! loucha asking couple to say vows and if anyone object speak now or hold your piece

-and up comes Wedding Crasher! Blade walking slowly and purposely up the aisle says I object with sword by his side

- What why? Chaos as people get to feet ready to fight as he pointa his sword at the couple and say “there is price to pay” and something Dan Heng not being honest and technically already married due to some loufu law which Jing yuan reluctantly confirms.

- However another weird rule on loufu is that its all okay if they technically are all married lol . Basically my wife is your wife.

- Dan Heng not okay with this, Blade pushing it for his revenge, and chaotic! Stelle like okay a 2 for one deal don’t worry Dan Heng I love you enough to marry Blade too.

- Basically, the Yandere! Ex! Blade not over and likes to hold their past relationship over Dan Heng/Feng vs Dan Heng who wants to move on

Dan Heng aghast and against this sudden revelation.

Blade Steals the bride in bridal carry and Dan Heng spars to get her back

Or Blade scoops Dang Heng up and yeets as Stelle chases after Blade murder in her eyes. no one upset the bridezilla on her wedding day lol

Silver wolf & Kafka outside waiting with getaway car.

10x funnier if bride is Trailblazer MC for 10x chaos

+Devolves into a bet for the bride fighting chaos.

Gambler! Sampo taking bets on who will win the bride

Photographer! March shocked cries out “Dan Heng, I never knew you had secret lover!” while taking pictures to document Dan heng big day gone worng.

Best Parents! Himeko & Welt run up to support Dan Heng “We’ll Support you in whatever choice you make” understanding parent think their kid is gay/polymerous/has secret lover where Dan Heng is like “I need battle support! Not mental support.”

Groom! Dan Heng denying “I don’t! I don’t remember this man”

Modern AU a weird amnesia situation maybe where Dan Heng once married to Blade but hit head coma accident lost but found Stelle they fell in love go married but blade shows up to object at wedding .

Jing yuan coughing on the sidelines be like “I tried to tell him….”

Other guys Objecting the marriage saying they like Stelle too in a weird reverse harem situation.

Jing yuan want to Join maybe cuz they all friends lol.

Gepard the gallant childhood friend who never got to confess his feelings until now the worst moment lol “Since everyone else is professing their feelings and if I don’t now I’ll never get to and will regret it. I-”

“NO Gepard don’t bad timing “ Serval his sister interrupting and saving him embrassement

Bailu and Clara in the background cutely confused ask “I thought this was one wedding rather than one with multiple people?”

“Normally that is the case…but at this rate my calculations say no one will be getting married” Mr. Sampo analyzing the situation as chaos unfolds.

#dan heng #honkai star rail x reader #honkai star rail imagines #honkai star rail #male yandere x reader #hsr blade #yandere imagines #stelle hsr #stelle x dan heng #stelle honkai star rail #hsr stelle #stelle #renheng #hsr chaos #honkai star rail mc

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