#he wears a hat & scarf always

[iniziare]

Tag drop: Dorian Pavus

[fgooooooo]

Wobbly Nort

My pen pressure drops with temperature so the lines are uneven 🥲

Still, enjoy this winter nort! ❄️

[caffeinewitchcraft]

Ghost Eater

Summary: You don't like exorcists. They don't much like you either.

-----

You’d always thought big restaurants like the Brownie Industry only did well in small, midwestern towns like the one you came from. A year working in LA has taught you that, no matter where you go, people will always love garlic bread and sugar.

It’s your day off which means you’re pulling a double shift. You haven’t had time to wash your hair for the past two weeks so it’s frizzing out of your claw clip and flying wild around your face. The lighting is so dim that you’ve tripped over two black purses already, luckily not while you’re running food. The big dining room sounds like an apiary with the tittering laughter of the later adult crowd that’s filtered in from the theater across the four lane road. The main difference between the Brownie Industry here and the one back home is size. The ceiling soars overhead, supported by a series of concrete pillars separating the dining area into three sections.

Normally it would be three servers per section. Today, it’s just you in yours.

One more hour. That’s what the manager promised you. It might even be true if the host stand quits seating you after the table you’re approaching.

There are three people at the table. A woman whose hair might be light blonde or gray in the light of day, her eyes light and piercing. Her face is soft from age, emphasized by the tight, lace collar of her off-season sweater. She reminds you strongly of your mom’s nemesis on the HOA board. The man couldn’t be more out of place next to her despite their equivalent age. He’s wearing a leather jacket – again, it’s not cold here – and a Norwegian metal shirt underneath. His hair is definitely white, so white it almost glows. He’s frowning at the teenager across the table as if she’s touched his motorcycle without permission.

The teenager might be the first you’ve seen all night who doesn’t have their phone out. She’s decked out in what you consider grandma florals – a t-shirt scattered with daisy chains, a bucket hat made out of nana’s carpet bag, and a hand-crocheted scarf in pastel.  You can’t really see her face under the shadow of her hat and there’s an odd, blurred quality to the way she fiddles with her napkin. You let your eyes skip past her and back to the two adults. Teenagers don’t pay the bill.

“Welcome to Brownie Industry!” you chirp. You’re sweaty and red but the faded yellow light hides that. You’re a service industry pro so none of your exhaustion shows on your face when you ask, “Is this your first-time dining with us?”

If you weren’t so burned out, you’d have noticed before you introduced yourself.

“Are you Grady?” the woman asks. Her voice is more posh than you expected even with her lace collar. “Grady Pace?”

Fuck. There’s a noticeable temperature differential now that you’re close to them. The restaurant is warm from the number of bodies, maybe even warmer than the summer air outside, but stepping up next to their table feels like walking into an ice rink.

“I’m your waitress,” you say. You don’t have time for this conversation. You’ve got five minutes in your cycle to take their order and then you’ve got food to run. “If you need any other services from me, I have a website.”

“We messaged you,” the man says. His lips thin to the point his thick mustache covers them entirely. “You never responded.”

Because you’ve been making more money at the Brownie Industry than your other job. “I’ll take a look at it tonight.”

“Wait,” the teenager says, sitting upright. She looks from you to the adults and back again. When she smiles, there’s no humor in it. “This is why we drove eight hours to have dinner at the Brownie Industry? For her?”

“Katie, be polite—”

“I’m sorry,” Katie says, “It’s just—I found a priest, you know? An actual exorcist priest and you guys want to trust a waitress over him?”

“Ugh exorcists,” you say. The memory of sour cabbage is so heavy on your tongue that you stick your tongue out in disgust. When you see Katie’s look, you backtrack. “Effective! Definitely effective.”

“Your mistakes have cost us too much already,” the man says, shaking a finger at her. “We are not converting just for an exorcism.”

“I normally don’t agree with your father,” the woman tells Katie, “but in this case I would like to leave conversion as a last resort.”

“We wouldn’t actually convert,” Katie says, rolling her eyes.

“Pretty sure exorcists can tell when you lie,” you tell Katie. When her scowl deepens, you clear your throat. “Did you all need another minute to think about the menu?”

“We need you to help us,” the dad says. He scrubs a hand over his face. “Look, I know you’re at work and I’m sorry we’re bothering you.”

“We’re desperate,” the mom says. She reaches for her purse. “We’ll pay you. Triple the rate on your website or even quadruple. We need that thing gone by tonight.”

Katie covers her face. “Mom. You’re embarrassing me. Terry isn’t that bad.”

“Oh, he’s bad, young lady,” the dad says sternly. “A bad influence.”

“We caught her trying to perform another séance yesterday,” the mom confesses to you. She leans forward with a pinched expression. “So Terry’s friend Larry could visit too.”

“Interesting,” you say. The food bell rings, but you think you can ignore it for another minute. You study Katie’s blush. “Why did you do that?”

If she was being compelled, she won’t have an answer to your question. You’ve dealt with a lot of ghosts in your time, but so few are sentient enough – or powerful enough – for compulsion.

“Go on,” the dad says, gesturing at you. “Tell her.”

“Leroy, she’s embarrassed enough,” the mom says.

“No, she’s not, Sarah.” The dad – Leroy – gestures to you again. “Tell her.”

Katie huffs, clearly resistant. But when her dad huffs back, she caves. “So,” she says, “I have this YouTube channel—”

“I’m off in an hour,” you interrupt. You don’t care that you’re being rude. Your patience ran out as soon as she said YouTube. “I’ll meet you in the parking lot.” You turn to go.

“A moment!” Sarah shakes out her menu. “How’s the nicoise salad?”

Of course they’re going to order. They’d better tip too if they want you to help them with their ghost problem.

----.

“You said an hour,” mom Sarah says when you leave out the employee entrance. She’s shivering next to her daughter. Leroy is off smoking behind his motorcycle, parked next to the Tesla Katie is leaning on, but he stubs out his cigarette on the asphalt when you walk up. “It’s been two.”

“I had side work,” you say instead of it would have been one if not for you. You rub your bare arms when the familiar ghost chill washes over you. You want nothing more than to go home and wash the scent of garlic and brownie batter out of your hair. “Was there something wrong with my service?”

“No?”

You try to make your voice light. “I see.”

Sarah frowns at your tone anyway. “Why?”

“You tipped five dollars.”

Katie jolts like a scalded cat. “Mom!”

Leroy scrubs a hand over his face. “Sarah…”

“What?” Sarah throws up her hands. The parking lot lights catch on her Swarovski charm bracelet. “I tipped!”

“Like ten percent,” Katie says. She pulls her bucket hat over her eyes for a beat and then peeks at you from under it. “I’m so sorry. It’s not you, she’s always like this.”

“It was actually a six percent tip,” you say. You’re getting a clearer picture of this little family now. It’s becoming more and more understandable why Katie might have started summoning ghosts. “If you want to be precise.”

Leroy reaches for his back pocket. “Let me.”

Sarah swats at his hand. “We’re about to pay her a lot more than that!”

“For a completely separate job,” Leroy says. He pulls a twenty from his wallet and hands it to you with a grimace. “Sorry, Grady, I should’ve checked.”

“You should’ve paid if you cared so much,” Sarah retorts. She folds her arms over her chest. She taps her cheek and widens her eyes. “Oh wait… you never pay.”

“Sure,” Leroy says. This time it’s his turn to throw his hands in the air. “Sure, Sarah. I don’t pay for anything to do with our daughter’s private school or her dance classes or her health insurance—”

“If the court hadn’t mandated—”

“You make twice as much as me—"

“Guys!” Katie says loudly. Her mouth is a thin line of upset when she says, “Argue about what an expensive burden I am later when we don’t have an audience, okay?”

Her parents speak at the same time.

“You’re twisting my words,” Sarah says. “I never said—"

“Sweetie, you’re not a burden—”

“Can you just get this ghost out of me?” Katie asks you. She goes for nonchalance and falls short. “My parents haven’t been in the same room for the last five years for a reason.” She fakes whispering. “They don’t play nicely with others.”

Sarah bristles. “Katie.”

“God, I know how that is,” you say. The whole interaction is giving you the worst case of sympathy for Katie. Before her parents can say anything else, you change the subject. “How long have you been haunted?”

“Six months,” Katie says. She fiddles with her bucket hat so that you can see her eyes for the first time. They’re brown, like her dad’s, and have heavy bruises underneath. She shrugs. “They only noticed a month ago though.”

“I noticed your behavior had changed,” Sarah defends. Like her daughter, she fidgets. She plays with her bracelet and clears her throat. “I thought it was a teenage thing.”

“What signs did you notice first?” you ask the parents. They glance at each other and then away.

“Let’s just say we noticed different things,” Leroy says dryly. He pulls out his phone.

“Moodiness,” Sarah says. She ticks them off on her fingers. “Laziness. Disrespect. Over-sleeping.”

“Those are just teenager things,” Katie says with an astounding level of self awareness. She shrugs. “I’m a senior now. They’re lucky it didn’t start sooner.”

“I,” Leroy says, “noticed this.” He turns his phone towards you.

“Ah,” Sarah says, “Yes. That.”

You examine the picture. It’s of Katie on a small dirt bike. She’s wearing a helmet in the picture, but you recognize the fashion sense in the floral boots she’s wearing. The scene behind her is of the hills, low scrub brush recognizable to someone who’s lived in LA for the past five years. On the bike behind her is a smudge. It could be a cloud of dirt blown into frame or maybe a camera glitch. It could be if it weren’t for the leering face emerging from the cloud right behind her head.

“I just want to say I did not agree to getting her a motorcycle,” Sarah says.

“Mom, not the point,” Katie says.

“Look how close that creep is to my daughter,” Leroy says. He jabs a finger at Katie’s waist in the photo where you can see a ghostly hand. “I want him gone.”

“Dad, he didn’t mean anything by it!” Katie turns to you earnestly. “Terry never rode a bike before and I thought, like, what if he moved on after he got a chance to? It was a philanthropic effort!”

“Plant a tree if you want to be a philanthropist,” Leroy growls. “I want this guy away from my daughter.”

“He doesn’t mean any harm really,” Katie says. “He would move on if he could! He says he’s stuck to me because of how I summoned him. He’s like, really sorry. He even spelled out Sorry in the bathroom mirror once.”

“What,” Sarah says in a dangerous voice, “was Terry doing in the bathroom with you, Katie?”

Katie splutters. “Mom, don’t be gross!”

The family descends into bickering. You have heard about ghosts being stuck to a person before, but usually that’s when the person has some sort of psychic powers. Katie’s wearing crystal in her ears, but they aren’t charged. She might develop some talent later in life, but right now she’s a normal girl.

The parking lost is nearly empty now. You recognize a few employee cars, but very few customers. The kitchen will be cleaning for another half hour before they’re ready to go home.  The reality is that, if Terry is stuck, you might not be the best way to handle the situation. If he’s not…

Well.

It’s time to talk to Terry.

Opening your ghost sense is hard to describe. Some psychics liken it to a third eye, right in the middle of their forehead. You’ve always thought that sounded really cool like maybe the world gets cast in a blue hue when they do it and the dead appear like they do in movies. You’ve met other psychics who say it’s like a sixth sense. They know where the ghost is and it’s like they download all that information until their minds can just sort of conjure their image.

For you, it’s like letting your body remember it has a second mouth. Cats have an extra sensory organ on the roof of their mouth that lets them detect scents better. Your second mouth is a bit like that. You can still smell brownies and garlic and the city air of LA, but you can also smell/taste something else.

Something like…pepper?

Your eyes water and you sneeze so viciously that your eyes close. When you open them again, four people are staring at you in surprise.

“Gesundheit,” Leroy says.

“You sneeze like Dad does,” Katie says.

“Did no one ever teach you to cover your mouth?” Sarah asks in disgust.

“I wish you would’ve sneezed on her,” Terry says, nodding to Sarah. “She’s such a bitch.”

“Thank you for the commentary, everyone,” you say. You wipe your nose with the collar of your shirt as you consider Terry. It’s dirty anyway. “Terry. Interesting name for a ghost.”

Terry hasn’t noticed that you can see him yet. He’s floating behind Katie, one arm casually flung over her shoulder. It’s hard to place when he died based on his appearance alone. His hair is chin length, emphasizing the width of his jaw. Squire cuts have been popular for several decades and the bowling shirt he’s wearing could either be a modern fashion statement or a dated uniform. He looks to be in his mid-twenties, sun-kissed and with the air of someone who tells a lot of jokes at the expense of others. His arm around Katie strikes you as possessive, the glare he gives her parents venomous.

“I didn’t name him,” Katie says. “He said it’s short of Torrance.”

You blink. “Wouldn’t he be Torri then?”

“That’s a girl’s name,” Katie and Terry say at the same time. Their cadence is so close that it actually sounds like Terry’s baritone comes out of Katie’s mouth. For a moment, his arm flickers, clipping into her shoulder like a bad animation. When it does, Terry’s form grows brighter, more solid. Then Katie shivers and he’s forced out of her.

You and Terry click your tongues at the same time.

You remember how Katie’s hands seemed to blur at the dinner table. Terry’s not just haunting Katie. He’s trying to possess her. You wonder if that’s why Katie looked up an exorcist rather than a simple spiritual cleansing. Did she know how much danger she was in?

“Okay,” you say. You tear your attention away from Katie and Terry for a moment. Business first. “Sarah. Leroy. Who was it that found my site?”

“I did,” Sarah says. She raises her chin when you can’t hide your surprise. “When Katie was looking up exorcists—”

“She didn’t mean it,” Terry says. He pats Katie’s hat. “Right?”

“—I looked up alternative solutions,” Sarah says, not having heard Terry. Her confidence falters for a moment and she rubs her arm. “I have had some… negative experiences with exorcisms. I don’t want my daughter to go through that.”

Katie’s head whips towards her mother. “What? I didn’t know that.”

“It was a long time ago,” Leroy says. For the first time, he reaches out and hugs Sarah with one arm. You don’t know what surprises you more; Leroy hugging Sarah or Sarah leaning into his side. “When Sarah told me, we decided to put our differences aside. I vetted you through some of my contacts and they all agreed you’d be a safe bet.”

“I am,” you say. You’re not bragging either. You’re probably the safest bet in half the western states besides your older sister. “There are some…peculiarities in my method.”

“Charlatan,” Terry whispers in Katie’s ear. He’s grinning now. “Only charlatans are that confident. Look! She can’t even see me!”

Katie looks doubtful.

Usually, you’d try to talk to Terry at this point. Sometimes spirits can be negotiated with. They can be encouraged to move on or to take on a less aggressive form of haunting. Those that are truly stuck can be helped with the right sort of ritual work. But the way Terry’s affecting Katie’s mood and that fucking arm around her shoulders…

You don’t really want to talk to Terry.

“We can ask Terry to move on,” you tell the family.

“Nooooooo,” Terry says and flips you off. “Pass!”

“Sometimes spirits don’t realize how deeply they’re affecting their hosts,” you say.

“You don’t even know how deep I’m about to be,” Terry jeers at you.

“Many ghosts are confused when they’re called to interact with the living,” you say. “It can blur their understanding of death and, as a result, they cling to life. If they stick around long enough, their presence will affect the living like what’s happening to Katie. It’s not always malicious. It can be a symptom of that confusion.”

“Katie, tell her to piss off,” Terry hisses in the teen’s ear. “I’m not confused, I’m bored.” His voice deepens. “Tell her we don’t need her help. Tell her we’re going home.”

Katie opens her mouth robotically. “That’s…” Her brow creases as she tries to figure out what she was going to say. “It seems like we don’t need help then. Terry will move on when he’s ready, like I thought.”

“We aren’t paying you for a ghost therapy session,” Sarah snaps. It’s only because you’re really focusing that you can see the unease under her anger. She’s noticed something wrong with Katie. “Katie, Terry is going away today.”

“Fuck you,” Terry says.

“Fuck you,” Katie says.

Leroy’s head rears back. “Katie, you don’t use that language with your mother!”

“Fuck you too,” Katie and Terry say. The parking lot lights flicker.

“No, fuck you, Terry,” you say, stepping between Katie and her parents. Leroy starts like he’s going to pull you out of the way, but he doesn’t.

“Terry?” Leroy asks. He looks scared. “Terry said that? Is Terry possessing my daughter?”

“Not yet.” You eye Terry’s arm and the way his fingers are sinking into Katie’s arm.

“Oh fuck,” Terry says. He doesn’t look scared. Not yet. Instead, he grins. “You can see me.”

“Not every ghost is malicious,” you tell the parents without taking your eyes off Terry. “But some are.”

“I’m not malicious.” Terry runs a hand through his hair, still grinning. The parking lot lights flicker overhead again. “I care about Katie a lot.”

“Terry’s never hurt me,” Katie says.

You ignore her. She’s not even shaking Terry off now. Her gaze is dull on your face when you say, “I don’t mean to sound like I’m some sort of ghost therapist. However, it’s important to differentiate between malicious and non-malicious hauntings in my practice. My methods are unconventional and, if used indiscriminately, I can get in a lot of trouble.”

“We won’t tell anyone,” Leroy says. He steps into your periphery. His gaze flicks from you to the spot you’re staring at over Katie’s shoulder. “We want Terry gone.”

“Not a soul,” Sarah promises. She comes up on your other side. “Please help our daughter.”

“Terry,” you say. Your second mouth is yawning wide somewhere in the back of your brain. The taste of pepper isn’t as overwhelming now. “Last chance. Renounce your claim on Katie’s soul and slither back into whatever hole you came out of.”

“We’re soulmates,” Terry says. He bares his teeth at you. “Go on, Charlatan. Call on your God to banish me. I’ve been around for decades and no exorcist has ever been able to put a scratch on me. And when they manage to push me out?” He laughs and the temperature drops another ten degrees. An unholy light flickers in his eyes. “I just come right back.”

“Then I guess I won’t feel guilty,” you say.

“Guilty?” Katie asks.

You walk forward two steps and grab Terry’s face. Terry’s skin is soft and jelly-like. His facial bones undulate like rubber under your grip. “Hi, Terry.”

Now Terry’s afraid. “What the fuck, you can touch—?”

“Bye, Terry.” You drag him towards you. His fingers pop out of Katie’s arm with a wet sucking sound, and he claws at your wrist.

“Wait! Waitwaitwaitwait--”

You eat Terry.

People come from all around to eat at the Brownie Industry. They love the density of the desserts and the heaps of garlic spread over home-baked (shipped frozen) rolls. It’s a treat to know you’re always going to enjoy the meal even if you’re far from home or eating at the same location a hundred times. It’s consistency, sugar and butter. An easy addiction to have.

Eating ghosts is like that for you. They fizz in your second mouth like champagne and melt like fudge. It’s hard to describe and the ephemeral quality of it sends shivers down your spine. Somewhere Terry is screaming in anguish, maybe crying. You think that the family you’re helping is screaming something too, but the sensation of eating is so consuming you can’t hear the words.

Terry is younger than other ghosts you’ve eaten. He doesn’t have the depth of flavor you’d once been addicted to back in Illinois. The best ghost you’ve ever eaten had been like a six-course meal with all the centuries she’d been carrying. In comparison, Terry is like a bag of pepper chips. Interesting, but gone in a moment. Still, he hits the spot.

When you’re done, you burp a purple cloud of ectoplasm into the still night air.

Leroy is the first to speak. His eyes are so wide you can see the whites all around them. “Pay her, Sarah,” he says breathlessly. His hands shake as he reaches for Katie, steadying her on her feet. “Now.”

You smack your lips and graciously accept the wad of cash Sarah hands you. You raise your eyebrows. “This is more than three times my rate.”

“Consider it a tip,” Sarah says. She’s more composed than Leroy, but still pale. She studies you. “That was…revolting.”

“You didn’t have to watch,” you say. You put your money away and then perk up at a sudden thought. “Hey, if you can, can you leave me a review on my site?”

“I thought you didn’t want us to tell anyone?”

You wave your hand. “Secrets are bad for business. Besides, Terry deserved it. I’m sure they’ll understand if you write that in your review.”

“They…?”

You smile and don’t answer.

The family don’t ask many more questions after that. The parents promise to leave a review and Katie just stares at you as if concussed. You assure the parents that she’ll be back to normal as soon as the soul-shock wears off. 

“And if it doesn’t?” Sarah asks.

“Message me,” you say.

“You don’t check your messages,” Leroy says.

“Oh,” you say, patting your stomach, “I’ll be checking them a lot more often now.”

You’re hungry again.

---

(Patreon)

[cottonlemonade]

“So, what made you come to Paris?“, you asked, spearing a buttery potato with your fork.

“Ever seen the movie Ratatouille? Completely changed my life. I just knew I had to follow Remy‘s footsteps.“

Tendou immediately regretted his answer the moment the words leaped out of his mouth. He finally managed to ask you out, a girl so far out of his league that he had already sent bragging texts to his former teammates before he even got dressed for the first date, and now this. You looked at him, blinked for a moment, and just as he started seeing his life flashing before his eyes, you burst out into a snort of laughter. A few people at nearby tables turned to stare but he only waved them off, focusing on you trying to regain composure.

For weeks he had seen you in the afternoon waiting for the same train as him. In the mornings your route to work took you by the shop he worked at and one day, as you were ogling the pralines displayed in the window, biting your lip in torn temptation, you had made eye contact with him and soon started smiling and nodding and eventually even waving to him as you passed the chocolaterie. He figured, once he was at the train station you didn‘t recognize him without his large white hat and pristine uniform and he didn‘t know how to approach you. That was until a terribly helpful gust of wind blew your scarf right off your neck and he chased it down for you, giving him the perfect opportunity to ask for your name, your number, and your time to get together.

And now you sat across from him in a corner of a tiny restaurant, with lights dancing in your eyes, wearing a dress that was obviously designed to make him crazy with how exquisitely it wrapped around your soft body.

You cleared your throat and said, “I was always more a Beauty and the Beast girly myself. After seeing it I always yelled Bonjour! every morning - drove my friends and family nuts! People on the street were looking at me weird, too, so I decided to move to France.“

Now it was on Tendou to laugh. Wiping a tear out of the corner of his eyes he chuckled, “I love you.”

“Hm?”

“I asked if you wanted to get dessert.”

You beamed at him and nodded.

[lewisvinga]

around the world | lewis hamilton x fem! reader

summary; influencer y/n decides to do the trend of showing off her outfits with lewis as they traveled around the world.

warnings; none ??

word count; 815

taglist; @namgification @louvrepool @locelscs @thehufflepuffavenger1

note; requested! this was longer than expected😭😭

masterlist !

“Okay, ready?” Y/n questions after setting up her phone on the desk in their room. They were currently in their hotel room in Las Vegas, almost ready to leave for the opening of the Las Vegas Grand Prix when she got the idea to shoot the tiktok.

“Wait, what do I do again?” Lewis asked with a chuckle, smoothing down the long black coat he wore on top of a black top with a deep v-neck.

“I showed you like 20 times, Lew.”

“Was too distracted by your pretty face.”

Y/n playfully rolls her eyes, ignoring the blush on her face as she holds one hand out. “Just clap my hand while crossing your legs at the same time.” She explains while copying the motion.

Since they were known as a fashionable couple who always matched, she wore a similar outfit to his but in a dress form. She wore a midi tight black dress with a v-neck and a matching black coat. They both wore their matching pearl necklaces from Valentino and even had matching sunglasses. She of course had her black mini Kelly in hand, an anniversary gift from him from a couple years prior.

“Ready, Lew?”

“Ready as I’ll ever be, gorgeous.”

Y/n puts on the countdown and takes a couple steps back to make sure their full outfits are in the frame. The moment the song began, she held her hand out and Lewis did exactly what she explained to him.

“Perfect, now I just gotta remember when we go to Abu Dhabi.”

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡⋆⋆ ˚｡⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡⋆⋆ ˚｡⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡⋆

“Okay, now we do the same but in these outfits,” Y/n explains again, adjusting her phone in his driver's room. Fortunately, she was quick to remember to record the next part of her TikTok.

They both wore baggy red pants but Lewis wore a white Mercedes shirt while she just wore a plain white blouse with a white Lady Dior in hand.

“Same thing as last week, right?” He asked with a smile as she began the timer.

“Exactly!” She nods in reply, her smile matching his. The song began to play and they copied the same movement they did the week before. Once it was over, she quickly grabbed her phone to check the footage. “Oh, this is gonna be amazing once we finish!”

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“Roscoe, sit,” Lewis tells the bulldog who wore a wide smile. They both watch as Y/n props up her phone on the front porch of their home in England.

The ground was white with snow and the sky let more snowflakes fall. They were wearing layers upon layers due to the freezing temperatures. Of course, they had matching navy blue jackets, and even Roscoe wore a matching vest. Their pants were both black but he wore black boots while she opted for navy boots.

She adjusts the grey scarf she wore that matches his as she starts the timer. “Roscoe, smile for the camera!” She exclaimed, rushing over to stand on the other side of the dog.

Roscoe was seemingly posing as the song began once again, and again Lewis and Y/n did the same movement.

“Roscoe is gonna look so good in that one!” He lets out a laugh, the corner of his eyes crinkling as he bends down to pet his bulldog’s head.

“He’s such a good boy, aren’t you, Roscoe?”

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“Ending it with Brazil?”

“To let the fans know it’s our honeymoon.” Y/n replies in a ‘duh’ tone. She smiled at him and glanced at their matching outfit once again. Lewis had decided to take his braids out and wear his natural curls for the summer, something he usually does when he isn’t racing.

His honey-brown curls were tied into a low bun and covered by a blue hat. He wore an oversized yellow Nike shirt and an earth-green tone pair of baggy pants. Y/n opted for wearing a skirt the same color and a blue Christian Dior tote bag instead of the cap. She also wore a yellow Nike top but it was fitted instead of loose.

It was one of her favorite outfits in one of their favorite countries. Brazil was always special to him and it became special to her, hence their honeymoon location.

“Okay, last one, and be ready!” She exclaims, pressing the countdown once again.

Lewis couldn’t help but stare at her with adoration in his eyes and a loving smile as they did the same moves for the last part of her video. He can already see all the comments they’d get on how he stared at her but he honestly couldn’t care.

He zoned out as he watched Y/n get excited over the video. He was eternally grateful that he was able to go around the world with his wife by his side.

[hisui-dreamer]

jade leech who's so in love with you but too shy to actually confess (since moray eels are cowards) so he instead misleads everyone to think you're dating:

loves lending you his jacket/scarf whenever you're cold so he can see you in his clothing, and everyone's left to wonder why jade leech has something missing in his outfit

gifting you little pieces of accessories whenever the occasion is fitting, they're always chosen with care so you can wear them everyday and if you don't pay too much attention, you won't even notice the pattern is mushroom themed

he likes using his hat to cover the two of you faces whenever he's whispering to you. to other people, it looks as if you're kissing each other, but he's just telling you to be mindful of a certain group of students. why's he covering you with his hat? oh, he simply doesn't want anyone to read his lips ;)

actively learns your schedule and the routes you take to classrooms so he can adjust his own route. oh, he happens to be taking the same route, would you mind if he joins you?

if you're working at the mostro lounge, he carefully plans what tasks to give you so you won't overwork yourself. yes, it's alright prefect, you can go take the orders, the others will be in charge of washing dishes

if any customer ever finds trouble with you, you never no need to worry. the customer usually finds himself unable to utter a word once a looming figure behind starts glaring into their soul

after some time, the entire school fully believes the two of you are dating, and by your reaction to hearing said rumours, he's quite sure you have some feelings for him too

he originally planned to confess once he was absolutely sure you returned his feelings. but maybe he wants to enjoy seeing you all flustered and shy around him for a little bit longer ;)

[genshin-obsessed]

Could I request Neuvillette and Wriothesley finding out their s/o makes the Melusines (including Sigewinne) cute plushies and clothes?

So I’ve recently gotten into crocheting and knitting and omg like I would do this! I would love to do this ;w; GIMME A MELUSINE-

✧ Neuvillette ✧

Ugh his heart. It can’t take it.

He’ll just be working at his desk and a melusine will come in to talk to him about something. And he’ll just see it. That wasn't the first time either, it's like every other melusine friend of his!

A cute little stuffie or a scarf, maybe a sweater, potentially socks, a bookmark, something. It was kinda weird because they just start popping up one day. Like, they didn't have any and then suddenly they all had something.

He knows exactly who made it, his beloved. You love spoiling the melusines rotten with your yarn crafts. He honestly loves to watch you work.

Neuvillette loves to buy you yarn because he knows you’ll make them something. He's never disappointed because you always end up making the most creative things. Where do you keep getting these ideas????

You’ll even make him something. He keeps every last creation. Never lost a single one over the years.

✧ Wriothesley ✧

He didn't know you made things? Like he knew you were creative, don't get him wrong and he'd seen you around with lots of knitted items. But he didn't know you made them.

One day, Sigewinne came in and she had the cutest little hat on her head. He had to ask. So she was all like "oh! (y/n) made it for me!" He was a little shocked.

He asked you, you explained, and he was just so interested! Since then, he likes to watch you work. You even made him a little tea cup and a tea bag book mark and he loves them so much.

He makes sure his desk is always dust free, they look super clean and brand new.

You've made him things like gloves, even went out of your way to make him a whole ass jacket. The man could wear everything you made him so proudly. Please never stop.

He will happily fund the supplies needed. You just tell him what you need and just be a teeny bit patient, like a couple days, and you'll have it. He tells everyone too.

[hotluncheddie]

for the @steddie-spooktober day 23 prompt : witch

rated: G | cw: none | tags: pre s1, flirting, Eddie Munson has ADHD

🧙🧙🧙🧙

‘Are you a witch?’

Eddie looks up from his notes, at Steve Harrington walking through the golden and red autumn leaves towards the picnic table in the woods. Scarf wrapped around his neck in a way that shouldn’t be attractive but is. (Eddie doesn’t know why knowing Steve is warm stirs his loins, but it does… shut up.)

‘What?’ Eddie asks.

Steve motions to his own hair. Making a sort of pointed steeple motion above his head.

Eddie lifts his hand and his fingers brush the felted grey wool of the pointed hat he made (with the help of Mrs. Carpenter two trailers over - old gal is metal at fibre arts.)

Eddie had shoved the hat onto his head that morning so he wouldn’t forget it. He made it special for hellfire tonight, always going extra spooky with his delivery around Halloween. He had, apparently, forgotten to take it off.

It dawns on him then that he’s been wearing it all day.

No one said anything.

He’s going to kill his friends.

‘I’m a wizard.’ Eddie says, finally pulling the hat off and clearing his throat. ‘You wanna score?’

‘Yeah, the usual.’ Steve leans his palms against the picnic table, rocking on his heels. ‘S’cool.’

‘What?’ Eddie looks up.

‘The hat, it’s cool.’ Steve smiles, handing over the cash in exchange for his joints.

‘Oh. Thanks.’ Eddie, doesn’t know what’s going on.

Steve nods, throwing the baggie up and catching it.

‘Well, I’m gonna go find out if you put a love spell on this.’ Steve says with a wink, pocketing his stash walking off with a wave over his shoulder.

Eddie sits there with his mouth slightly open.

Did, does, did Steve Harrington just. Huh?

🧙🧙🧙🧙

Tag list : @scoops-aboy86 @xxfiction-is-my-realityxx @pearynice @marvel-ous-m @thecatkingsthrone

@cheesedoctor @chickensinrainboots @chameleonhair

[cutiecorner]

Caregiver Alfred during fall ♡

Looooves to decorate for Halloween. Any holiday really, but the fall and winter ones are his favorite. Will celebrate any holiday you celebrate with gusto!

Will let you play while he does yard work, or you can help, if you want. You may get to use the leaf blower. With supervision. If you're good

Always makes sure to have a cozy drink at the ready after you play outside.

Similarly, he always has a thermos with tea for outdoor outings. He has a separate one for you with your drink of choice (tea, cocoa, cider, whatever)

Makes sure you're warm 100% of the time. Inside? Blankets. Outside? Coat and mittens. All the time? Sweaters.

If you do get cold, he'll give you his coat, his scarf, his hat, anything. With only a little bit of nagging that he told you so. If you prefer to burrow into his coat while he's wearing it, he's not opposed.

He knits, but he's bad at it. He's much better at sewing. He still tries to make hats, scarves, and mittens, but he's a little embaressed when you wear them. Seeing you smile makes it worth it though :•)

Kind of an Instagram mom but for his own scrap books. Wants to take his little ones to all the fall spots, pumpkin patches, fairs, football games, all of it. Takes lots of pictures and makes pretty pages for them.

Insists he doesn't like American football but he's invested. He doesn't yell at the TV because it makes little ones anxious when he raises his voice, but he will swear in a very British way that makes you giggle.

Buys so much candy for October. Makes a lot of special spooky treats, too.

Goes very hard on making costumes. Nary a store bought costume in the house. He will make anything you ask in exquisite detail, and take so many pictures

[cloudyskydreams]

S/O wearing their clothes! UT,UF,UF,HT

Thought this was a cute idea actually got inspired from the last request but decided to make it its own thing. Small little drabbles and two posts for the day I feel accomplished! As always hope y'all enjoy!

Undertale:

Sans: The rare occasion his jacket is to get washed and you pull it out of the dirty laundry to wear it. It smells like pine and ketchup and you relax into the smell as you stand in your shared bedroom. A chuckle from behind you has you spinning around and you see and amused Sans staring at you through lidded eyes. "was wondering what the jacket was in here" he puns and you smile as he steps closer pulling you into him. "you look cute starlight, you should wear my clothes more"

Papyrus: It was a brisk autumn day and the air outside was cold enough to make goosebumps rise in your skin. You had only brought a jacket to the outing with your bonefriend and were regretting not bringing mittens or a hat or something of the like. Papyrus noticing how cold you were took off his scarf and wrapped it around your neck, it's a large comfy scarf too. "HERE YOU ARE SWEET PEA DONT WANT YOU GETTING COLD." He thinks you look just perfect in his signature scarf and plans to make you one similar.

Underfell:

Red: Red had taken his jacket off while working on your car and you being the grateful partner decided to give him a little show when he got back. Slipping on a pair of booty shorts you know he drools over you in and his jacket you pose on the couch and wait for him to come in. It takes a bit and you end up scrolling on your phone but his reaction is priceless. He drops he tool in his hand and his mouth is open in shock as he takes in sight of you. "fuck sweetheart you don't know what you do to me," he growls as he practically pounces on you.

Edge: Edge had left his clothes on the bed while he hopped in the shower after a long day and you saw your opportunity to try on his prized cape. You chuckle and slip the thing around your neck before impersonating the loud skeleton. He of course finishes much quicker than you anticipated and can't even pretend to be mad when he sees you parading around pretending to be him in his cape. He knocks on the doorframe and smirks upon seeing you're shocked face. "WHAT ARE YOU DOING PET?" he questions a fire in his eyes as he steps closer to you and pulls you flush against him by his cape. He enjoys seeing you in his clothes as it's sort of a way for him to mark you as his. He also thinks you just look great in his clothes.

Underswap:

Blue: You had stolen blues bandana and had decided to center your entire outfit around the little piece of cloth as a little surprise for him. You dressed up a little and put on the bandana before getting to work on breakfast. About ten minutes later a sleepy Blue exited the room half dressed and rubbing his eyes. "LOVE HAVE YOU SEEN MY— oh…" He takes in the sight of you before smirking. "ISN'T THIS A SIGHT FOR SORE EYES, DRESSED UP ALL FOR ME?" He waltzs over and kisses you while adjusting the bandana. He really enjoys the look and might ask to twin with you in the future.

Stretch: Stretch had simply switched out what hoodie he had worn that day and you had snatched his signature orange one when you had the chance. "aww honey don't you look cute," He snaps a picture upon seeing you and chuckles as he sends it to Blue ranting about how cute his s/o is. He definetly leaves clothes out more often for you to find and wear. He might doodle you in his hoodie in his free time the image is stuck in his mind.

HorrorTale:

Axe: He takes his jacket off occasionally and forgets where he puts it. Was actually coming to ask if you had seen it when he found you wear it, and lemme tell you it dwarfs you. Let's out a little "…oh" and his eyelights dilates to fill his whole socket as he stares at you for a few seconds. Thinks it's the cutest thing he's ever seen and occasionally will simply take his jacket off and dump it on you because he enjoys your smell on it.

Willow: His scarf is pretty torn and he wears it mostly out of sentimentality when he does. He has a new one but this one just holds so many memories he can't get rid of it even if alot of those memories are bad. You slip it on after finding it one day poking around the house, he finds you wearing it and he doesn't really react. "Hello Dearest I See You've Found My Old Scarf," He ruffles your hair and tells you the story of how he first got the scarf. Gently folds it and puts it up when you're done wearing it. He's happy to let you wear his other clothes too and as he's a giant they're all pretty huge on you and he thinks that's cute.

[itaipava]

— christmas with f1 boys.

˒ ⌕ LANDO NORRIS

snow fight: he would take you to make angels in the snow but, when you least expected it, you would be attacked by a snowball and when you looked at him, he would act confused as if nothing had happened, so you take advantage of this moment and play more snow on him, which causes a snow fight. you lose track of time because you’re too busy throwing snow at each other while trying to hide: you laugh so much and have fun like children. after a while, he comes to you: he hugs you and kisses you several times, which makes you laugh even more because his lips are cold. later you go home to watch christmas movies while drinking hot chocolate.

˒ ⌕ DANIEL RICCIARDO

building a snowman: he would be very excited to build a snowman with you and he wouldn’t even try to hide it because honestly he probably waited all year for it to snow so he could build one with you. he would try to make it look like one of his friends but it wouldn’t work anyway. the snowman is a little jagged and deformed, but you two worked so hard on it, you love it anyway. he would let you add the finishing touches like; the scarf, the nose, and any hat you could find in the dorm that would fit your crazy snowman. his name would be from your shipp and he would take so many pictures to always remember this special and funny moment.

˒ ⌕ CARLOS SAINZ

making cookies together: he promises to help you, but he spends all the time with his arms around your waist, resting his chin on your shoulder as he watches you do all the work by yourself. but after you complain, he helps you cut the cookie dough in the shape of stars and christmas trees, complaining about how cliché it is but still enjoying spending time with you: this moment is so precious and genuine to him, spending this day with you it’s truly a blessing. and when the cookie is done, he smiles and brags about being an amazing cook

˒ ⌕ CHARLES LECLERC

ice skating; he would pick you up on a date, not telling you where you were going; so you would be very surprised when he pulls into the parking lot of an outdoor ice skating rink. it would be all decorated for the holiday with christmas lights everywhere and it’s so beautiful you can’t stop smiling and admiring the place around you. you’d probably need to wear those things kids use and hold so they don’t fall on the ice and he’d quickly grab it for you, trying to hide the smile on his face. he just circles around you while you barely move and try not to fall. when you start to get a little more used to it, he grabs your hands and holds you to keep you steady, looking sweetly at you. asking strangers to take a picture of you two for him to send to his family as a keepsake. then he’d buy you hot chocolate later and walk around town with you until it’s time to go home <3

˒ ⌕ OSCAR PIASTRI

going to shop together: walking through the crowded mall hand in hand as christmas music plays softly on the intercoms. after buying some presents for your friends (with you having to help him because he has no idea what to buy) you decide to split up to buy presents for each other; at the end of the day he takes you to dinner in a beautiful and comforting place. he lightly pats your hand on the table as you wait for your food to arrive, enjoying the snow falling outside.

˒ ⌕ LEWIS HAMILTON

decorating the christmas tree: he would have all the trinkets and decorations ready when you get there and he would smile a little embarrassed at how excited he is; he would take it so seriously; it would be so cute and precious. he probably has a color scheme for all the embellishments and decorations, so everything matches and that makes you even more enchanted. he helps you to place all the ornaments that are too high on the tree for you to reach; smiling without you noticing because he doesn’t want this moment so unique and pure to end ever. he also loves taking photos of you distracted while you decorate the tree or when you pet roscoe who watches the two of you with curiosity. he also likes to take several photos of the three of you together, to save this precious and genuine moment and to post everywhere — and brag about having a beautiful family.

˒ ⌕ MAX VERSTAPPEN

making a gingerbread house: he’s the one who came up with the idea and honestly he’s really good at it! he is very focused and silent as he puts the frosting on the walls of the house, but he also gets even more intense and focused as he glues the walls together, whispering something like “no sudden moves, babe.” as if it were the most important thing of all. but of course, he would still have fun with it and mess with you a bit; he probably smears frosting on your cheek or nose and kisses you with the excuse to ‘clean up’ but you two would also discuss how to decorate the outside of the house; he wants to use chewing gum as a doorknob and you want to make one with glace; it takes hours to finish, but once done it looks amazing; it’s a mix of both of your design ideas and you both love it <3

[miupow]

Hihi!! May I request headcannons about the TXT members who are dating reader who crochets a lot?

tubatu with a partner who crochets .ᐟ

★ ── ot5 x gn!reader ⸝⸝ tooth rotting fluff

੭ ⭑ 𓂃⠀⠀⠀ [ m. list ] ⭑ [ reblogs and feedback appreciated! ]

i love crocheting and knitting <3 one of my favorite hobbies

𝓢OOBIN

is just so endeared

thinks it’s so cool that you can crochet and is always in awe of your skills and what you make

would ask you to crochet him something that he can take with him on tour <3 a little plushie or a blanket

no matter how many of your creations you give him he’s always so surprised and excited, telling you that you did such an amazing job!

loves cuddling with you and watching you crochet, just wordlessly watching your hook work away

𝓨EONJUN

you’re his favorite luxury designer, more than any dior or moncler.

always asking for hats or gloves or whatever else he saw online, “could you do something like that?” and you always tell him yes because his pout is just so cute

loves to wear the things you make him out in public or on his insta, showing it off <3 will tell anyone who listens that his girlfriend made that hat/scarf/sweater/whatever

constantly buying you yarn he thought you would like or that he found pretty, you have so much yarn you don’t know what to do with it all

holds your yarn for you while you crochet

𝓑EOMGYU

he constantly calls you a grandma as a joke but he thinks it’s the cutest thing ever that you crochet

begs for you to teach him and then gives up after the first lesson lol

encourages you to make things for yourself instead of for him, is so supportive of your entirely crochet wardrobe. isn’t his girlfriend so cool??

does love the occasional gift though. crocheting him a new fluffy soft sweater every christmas <3

helps you measure yourself, pin and sew together pieces, put everything together

𝓣AEHYUN

always asking you questions about your crochet

loves to listen to you talk about something you’re so passionate about and is genuinely interested in learning about what you do

learns how to do it himself fairly quickly because he’s a genius lol he’s not very good but he can do it! giggles every time you crochet together and yours looks so much better than his

will proudly wear or display anything you make him — and you proudly display his own crude little creations

he is so enamored by you it’s honestly disgusting. he’s never acted like that with anyone else

𝓗EUNINGKAI

plushies !!! so many amigurumi plushies

will never ask for anything because he’s too polite. please make him things he loves it he goes absolutely crazy every time kissing and hugging you and telling you how much he loves you

snuggling against his warm chest as you crochet and he games <3 always so cozy and laid back with him which gives you so much time to crochet

you let him pick the colors when you go yarn shopping and he takes it very seriously

crocheting him a special blanket for your anniversary.. cuddles just advanced tenfold

[zae-heeyyy]

Chiaroscuro

Summary: You're very fond of silk scarfs and Arthur Morgan. Pairing: Arthur Morgan x Female!Reader Word Count: 1,555 Tags: fluff, developing relationship, Horseshoe Overlook, kissing, affection

a/n: It's been 10 years since I've written and published any type of fiction, so I'm a bit out of my comfort zone. Also learned that they mostly used "scarfs" instead of "scarves" in the 20th century so I wrote accordingly. Let me know if you enjoy; thanks for reading!

( ´˘ᴗ˘)♡(´ ❥ `✿)

chiaroscuro: an Italian term used in art to describe the contrast between light and dark, often associated with dramatic lighting.

You let yourself indulge in one of the few simple pleasures you could afford: silk scarfs. Your clothing trunk was full of them; they were light and didn’t take up a lot of space, something you had to think about in your line of work. The often patterned and bright pieces of fabric were soft and delicate, two things you frequently wished you could be if your life had gone differently. You didn’t want to admit it, but you cared about looking pretty. You didn’t like to go out of your way to style your hair or put on makeup daily, so you settled on scarfs. Still, you didn’t feel like you were easily noticed, like Mary Beth or Molly, but you’d caught the attention of the only one you’d care to, Arthur Morgan. 

Arthur had started to notice your growing collection. He invariably knew when you were wearing a new one, always taking the time to acknowledge it. “New scarf?” He’d ask with his brows raised, or “That’s a nice one.” Sometimes, he’d tease you, “We’re gonna have to get you a whole wagon for all those scarfs.” More seriously, he had started complimenting you, “looks mighty fine, miss,” he’d say, tilting his hat. You’d flush and thank him shyly, and the two of you would go about your separate ways.

Then, the cowboy started seeking you out in the mornings, leaning casually against the wagon where your clothing trunk and scarfs were stored. The two of you would share small talk while you picked out your scarf for the day. He would smile and nod in approval of your choice, no matter what it was, and then he was gone again, disappearing like a whisper in the wind. Once, he leaned over you, grabbed a specific scarf from the pile, and held it out, “That one’s my favorite,” he’d say, making you work to maintain your composure when you were beaming inside. 

After a week or two, your communication was much less vocal. It was intense eye contact and shy smiles and nods. He’d silently look through your scarfs, pick one, and wrap it around your neck for you. He seemed so confident in the moment but would scratch his chin and look away right after, finding some excuse to swiftly depart. His sudden lack of confidence embarrassed him, but you found it endearing.

Finally, the tension had built. Arthur was wrapping your scarf around you like he’d started to do, and you grabbed onto his hands as he finished tying the knot. Both of you paused, staring intently at one another. You lifted up on your toes just as he bent to reach you. It was hard to say who kissed who first, but you’d never been kissed so gently and tender. You wondered if you’d made him want to be that way-- gentle and tender, words no one would usually use to describe the outlaw. You could’ve kissed him forever, but you had to breathe, and he had a job to do. But you’d been giddy, and your heart would flutter whenever he was around; it also ached for the following day when you’d have your moment with him again. 

Some mornings, he’d be there waiting before you’d even gotten completely dressed, still in your shift and bloomers from the night before. He’d hand you a metal cup of coffee, and you’d stand close together, shoulders touching, and you two would go on about whatever came to mind. When you couldn’t waste any more time, he’d pick out your scarf and tie it around your neck. You’d share your anticipated kiss before he went off on whatever errands Dutch wanted him to run for the day. 

You’d found him sitting alone another day, seeking solace from camp with his back against a large rock. His head was dipped into his journal, sketching so intensely that he didn’t notice your approach. You’d only caught a glimpse of pencil markings on the page when he looked up, saw you, and closed it. You’d wonder what he was always writing in that thing, but you respected him enough not to ask. He reached out for your hand and pulled you down to sit with him, not letting it go for the entirety of your conversation. You and he would spend hours behind the boulder, lost in conversation. The mystery of the leather-bound book’s contents would fade away, consumed by memories he’d share with you.

But you’d find out sooner than later by accident. Arthur hadn’t returned to camp in a few days, which was typical. However, it wasn’t normal for him to stalk straight to his tent on his return. His routine usually involved stopping by the donation box or sitting by the fire and, lately, seeking you out. You discovered him in his tent, digging through his satchel, his brows furrowed in frustration. His face softened as you approached, and he looked at you, scratching the back of his neck.

“Lost my damn pencil,” the brooding man murmured, looking around his tent.

You helped him look around his tent and through his satchel, taking the leap to dump all its contents onto the cot. Cigarette cards, documents, herbs, feathers, and his journal fell onto the bed. You’d started to give up when you noticed the gray tip of the pencil sticking out of the journal. You flipped the book open without thinking, too caught up in being the solution to his problem to realize you were about to invade his privacy. As you went to grab the pencil from the crease of the journal, your eyes fell on the bookmarked page. The markings on the paper were so detailed and intricate that you couldn’t help but draw your eyes to them. You’d gone quiet, and he turned to face you. His eyes landed on the open journal briefly before you closed it hastily. Handing it back with the pencil on top, you murmured a quick apology. You looked away from him, putting the contents of his satchel back and going to stand. He gently grabbed your wrist as you tried to leave, making you stop in place. Without resistance, you found yourself guided to the cot, where he sat down, pulling you beside him. His face was soft but riddled with thought as he opened his mouth to speak.

“I—“he paused, searching for the words but decided to show you instead. In your full view, he opened the book, smoothing the pages over his lap. Above an inscription, he’d drawn a flower. You recognized it instantly as a printed flower from a scarf you wore a few days before. Your fingers reached to absent-mindedly touch the fabric around your neck. Then the words caught your eyes and made them almost fill with tears, “That girl and her scarfs bring color to my dull, dull life.” You laughed and wrapped your arms around him. As surprised as he was, he wrapped his around you and held you close for a while

The gunslinger had been less shy after that, keeping the journal open when you’d come to sit beside him behind the rock. He’d sometimes tear a page out and hand it to you or leave it for you to find. You’d started finding them all over the camp. He’d leave one in your clothing trunk, caring to leave several if he knew he’d be away from camp for a while, or you’d find one tucked under your pillow when you went to lay down for the night. The sketches were always so identical to your scarfs that you knew exactly which scarf he was thinking about when he drew it. You’d study the drawings, noticing all the elaborate lines. You wondered how the images stuck in his mind so easily, but he’d confessed to you that every part of you stuck in his mind, always. 

You woke and walked to the wagon one day, but he wasn’t there. In his absence was a small box wrapped in twine with a bundle of English mace sticking out of the top. Your name was scrawled across a tag in his handwriting. You opened it to a pool of plain white silk. “Pure as you” was written on a piece of torn paper on the inside. You beamed but left it in the box and tucked it away with all your other scarfs. 

Arthur returned to camp in the evening just as Pearson had served the stew. As he approached, he smiled at you, but his smile fell when he noticed your unusual lack of a scarf. 

“Did you—“he started to ask, but you threw your arms around him and cut him off with a kiss. 

“‘Course I did,” you pulled him to the spot at the wagon and held the box to him, “Just been waiting for you to tie it on.”

His mouth formed into a slight grin, his chest rising and falling with a deep chuckle.

“Wouldn’t have it any other way, darlin'.”

He enveloped you in the scarf, sealing his gesture with another affectionate kiss. As you sat together at the fire, you were engulfed by another type of warmth–– your feelings for Arthur. Though neither of you had said it yet, you knew you loved him, and he loved you too.

[mncxbe]

bsd men and what they do for christmas

𝑫𝒂𝒛𝒂𝒊, 𝑪𝒉𝒖𝒖𝒚𝒂, 𝑭𝒖𝒌𝒖𝒄𝒉𝒊, 𝑺𝒊𝒈𝒎𝒂 𝒙 𝒇𝒆𝒎!𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒆𝒓

𝑮𝒆𝒏𝒓𝒆: sfw/nsfw/ severe brainrot♡

𝑫𝒂𝒛𝒂𝒊 𐙚 ‧₊˚ ⋅

can I just start by saying that this man has never celebrated Christmas properly so he's so excited to spend time with you

Dazai prefers to keep things simple: homemade dinner and then watching a movie

you're supposed to open the presents in the morning but he isn't patient enough. the moment he sees them under the tree you so kindly decorated a few days ago he has the biggest smile on his face

"come on bella you don't seriously want to wait until morning. how could you do this to me? you know how curious I am"

you end up opening the gifts that night. he's gonna loves whatever you get him really but his heart literally melts if you knit him a scarf or write him a letter. dazai's a sucker for self-made gifts

the only appropriate way to show his gratitude is to bend you over and fuck you nice and slow, your face mushed in the cushy pillows on your shared bed as he takes you from behind

"there you go pretty girl. my, my I'm starting to think this pretty pussy of yours is my favourite gift so far"

you can bet he wears a santa hat

����𝒉𝒖𝒖𝒚𝒂 𐙚 ‧₊˚ ⋅

he'd take you out to the most expensive restaurant in town for a proper meal

after that, if you find a rink that's open on Christmas eve he takes you ice skating (totally not an excuse for him to hold your hand)

once you get home you cuddle on the couch while watching a generic movie like Home Alone. it's always the classics I'm telling you

he has a fireplace!!! and insists on opening the gifts next to it

among other stuff, he gets you Christmas themed lingerie and makes you wear it in bed. cuz after all, you're the best gift he could ask for

forget about baking him sweets, the only dessert he wants is your pretty cunt. he's gonna eat you out for what seems like hours, making you cum on his tongue at least two or three times before he even thinks about fucking you

"shiit baby you look so pretty like this. you like it when I spoil you rotten don't ya? I bet you do- oh fuck yea cum f'me doll"

𝑭𝒖𝒌𝒖𝒄𝒉𝒊 𐙚 ‧₊˚ ⋅

hubby's busy even on holidays

he probably has to attend some obnoxious event and ofc you go as his plus one

he's gonna spend all evening sulking and complaining about how idiotic the whole party is

by the time you two get home he's too exhaused to do anything but you may be able to bribe him to stay awake for an hour or two with some gingerbread

can I just say he'd probably get you the nicest gifts? i'm 100% sure he has a good salary so he can afford whatever you want. expensive jewelery or skincare? sure, no problem. a stack of books with those pretty decorative covers? fine again

he probably gets a bit tipsy on mulled wine so be prepared to hear a silly yet lengthy love confession before bed

falls asleep before midnight but he's gonna make up for it in the morning if you catch my drift

𝑺𝒊𝒈𝒎𝒂 𐙚 ‧₊˚ ⋅

sweet baby's so anxious at first

he's never celebrated christmas before so he doesn't really know what to do. this whole idea is so new to him but he can't deny he loves spending time with you decorating the house

Sigma wants to try any tradition you may have; baking winter themed cookies, making crackers, watching a movie marathon

when it comes to gifts he doesn't really know what to get you so he ends up buying multiple things he thinks you'd like and he's so happy when you tell him you like them

cuddles cuddles cuddles all evening under a cushy blanket with a mug of hot chocolate in your hands

he'd look so cute wearing one of those reindeer headbands

if it's snowing, take him slow dancing in the snow or on a walk around town. he's gonna love the pretty christmas lights

[rockinmusicquarterly]

my voices :> (alt text labels who's who)

long ass design notes under the cut:

smitten

went with a sort of roman poet vibe for him with the sash and wreath, plus a nice cape for the dashing hero look, all pinned with a (unspecified) flower right over his heart

hero

his feather coating is short and rounded, meant to give off the look of puffy sleeves like a medieval prince or bard. his little head tufts are heart-shaped also

his wings are shaped rather elegantly, in an almost stereotypically "angelic" way

my mindset for him was as middle-road as possible: in height, feather length, wing size, color values, etc. truly just The Guy

neck bandana for the adventurer look, and some shoulder pads that, while offering some protection, are overall pretty unqualified for the kinds of horrors to be wrought in the construct; he's prepared, but not that prepared

while the other voices have 2 front-toes, hero is one of three voices who has 3. this is done to show he has more of a... i guess closer connection to TLQ (who also has 3), since he's there from the start and feels the most fleshed out overall

contrarian

the shortest king of them all

definitely aiming for the jester aesthetic, but in what i hoped was a more subtle manner? his head tufts are the general shape of a classic jester's hat, along with all the bells he's adorned with - you can hear him coming from a mile away. wears half of a comedy mask bc (gestures) he's Like That

his wings are tiny and cartoonishly shaped, only able to lift him off the ground out of pure looney tunes physics. his whole thing is just rounded, playful edges

3 front-toes like hero, showing how he grows somewhat out of his titular role in the strange beginnings ending, becoming more of his own person than just a singularly-defined Voice

cold

the tallest king of the bunch

his feather coating is a disaster, this man does not care about preening himself & it shows. lots of loose feathers sticking out and ruffled in every possible spot

the last of the voices with 3 front-toes: the cold seems to have an (albeit implicit) understanding of the TLQ's (and to an extent his own) role as a deity, finding familiarity in the textured nothingness - though, he isn't as "special" as he'd hope

the giant wings give him a more imposing presence despite his twig frame, i imagine him sometimes wrapping himself in them like a big cloak

his scarf is positioned just so to make the scar over his heart (matching the spectre's of course) an open target - as if giving one the invitation to make him feel Something

opportunist

this one was where i wanted to start adding design parallels between the canonical voice "pairings" in the game (consumption & betrayal, pain & unfamiliarity, etc.) so he and the hunted share some design elements

they both have little utility belts, but the opportunist carries on him nothing but a poorly concealed blade - looking out ultimately for himself in the long run

lil braid cause it's cute, and to me has the sort of sleek, tidied-up vibe of someone who wants to come off like he knows exactly what he's doing

i think his wings are on the larger side, but he generally keeps them pinned under his clothes to make himself appear non-threatening

hunted

verrry dirty with lots of loose leaves and branches stuck in his feathers. he can try to wash them out, but they're always back before long. dirt boy (affectionate)

has a utility belt like the opportunist, but he uses it to carry a pouch full of various goodies & medical materials - always trying to look out for everyone else, concerned most with group survival

unlike the opportunist who can pull them out whenever he wants, the hunted's wings are fully pinned beneath his cloak & rendered unusable. something something about how his instinctive fears keep him from reaching his full potential?

(though given what can happen in the den maybe it's best he keep that potential unfulfilled lmao)

digitigrade legs are cool :>

cheated

like the razor, he's all sharp edges and angles. he's covered in jagged scars outlining the general spots where the razor chops TLQ up, along with some other missing chunks around his tufts & limbs

(at first i wanted to have some of them look like autopsy scars, but i couldn't quite get the shape right & it was just too much visual clutter 😔)

covered in bandages similar-looking to the contrarian's wrapping things, though they don't do him much good in the long run

not as short but still short king. free my man he did nothing wrong

stubborn

while the cold is slightly taller than him, he's overall the biggest of the bunch

the only one with pants (skirt) privileges because i know in my heart he's the guy who has to be convinced into wearing a shirt. his is adorned with a few of his own feathers

scarred all over, including his wings which are pretty much broken beyond use from all his fighting. he doesn't care - it seems fairer overall to stay on level ground alongside his opponent(s). unlike the broken's wings, stubborn's are flared out despite their damage - essentially saying, "come at me"

lil ponytail cause it's cute

skeptic

both to match the smitten's general look and to try something a bit different from the classic detective vibes, i went with a sort of vampire hunter look for him? not sure how much sense it makes but i think it looks neat

while the smitten's sash is large and goes right over his heart, the skeptic's utility belt avoids it altogether - skepticism vs blind devotion yadda yadda

always carries the pristine blade in a little holster, since he refuses to let TLQ go on without it in all his main routes

on the taller side compared to the smitten

paranoid

in contrast to the cold's unpreened disheveledness, the paranoid is ridiculously overpreened, giving his feathers a messier, plucked shape

(i wasn't brave enough to draw them but i know in my heart he's got some bald patches)

has a big, splotchy scar over his heart with little blood vessel/nerve lines diverging off of it - his route has TLQ dying of "fright" (something usually associated with a heart attack), compared to the cold just skewering himself

his little cloak-thing is torn to shreds, trying and failing to hide his heart - while the cold leaves his purposefully vulnerable

short(ish) king

broken

my beloved <3

very disheveled, though not as bad as the cold or paranoid. he's generally too miserable to worry about caring for his appearance, but is more open to the effort than the cold (and less neurotic about it than the paranoid)

clipped talons and nails

has a shackle around his neck for the obvious pet/prisoner imagery from his route, and one around his ankle on the opposite side & limb from where the princess is usually chained up

he's scarred up, but in more i guess "deliberate" places than the stubborn. one near his neck reaching to his heart, one winding around his midsection, and one on the back of his knee

his wings are broken & unusable like the stubborn's, also open though in a more subdued manner, showing the openness of his pain & vulnerability

[dvrk-moon]

LEE HEESEUNG ; 이희승

— requested: yes!

— synopsis: running into your rival house’s quidditch captain with your friends at hogsmeade wasn’t exactly the way you planned to hard launch your relationship. 

— word count: 2k

— genre: harry potter au, fluff, a bit of angst sorry i love angst

— pairing: gryffindor!heeseung x fem!slytherin!reader

— featuring: jake, sunghoon, jay, aespa yizhuo (ningning) and minjeong (winter), loona/loossemble yeojin and hyeju, txt huening kai

— warnings: cursing

— taglist: @llvrhee @lovelycassy

i. BUTTERBEER AND EXPOSURE

It was cold, to put things lightly.

It was the second week of December, about a week before the fall term at Hogwarts ended, and the winter season decided to make its presence known well this year with the chilly winds and white snow covering every surface imaginable. You were donned in a sweater, jeans, boots, a puffy coat, and a green scarf to accentuate your Slytherin pride. You weren’t wearing gloves, and the frostbite that would soon be eating away at your hands was making you regret not deciding to wear a better outfit to Hogsmeade.

You were currently stood outside of Three Broomsticks with one of your best friends who’s also the captain of the Slytherin quidditch team: Park Sunghoon. The two of you were waiting for some other close friends to join you at the tavern for some Butterbeer and unloading stress after the packed term.

Sunghoon watched you shove your hands into your pockets after trying to warm them up for the third time in the past minute; he laughed at your once-again failed attempt, rubbing his own (gloved) hands together, “You really should’ve brought gloves, Y/N.”

“You really should mind your business.” You retorted, giving him a sour look. You looked at your watch, “What’s taking them so long, anyway?”

“I dunno, you know how Hyeju and Yizhuo get when Jay is running late,” he sighed, “because what I bet is that they left without him, like usual, and then they felt bad and went back for him, like usual.”

“You’re definitely right,” you paused, “but that doesn’t mean we need to suffer in the cold for them. Can’t we go inside?”

“No,” Sunghoon laughed, “they’ll be pissed and you know that.”

Your friend group, comprised solely of Slytherins, seemed to always have situations like these happen to it. Especially those consisting of Hyeju and Jay.

As if on cue, the echoes of the voices of the aforementioned Yizhuo, Hyeju, and Jay were heard in the distance. You playfully rolled your eyes at the three as they made their ways into your field of vision.

Hyeju ran ahead of the other two, clad in a puffy coat and fuzzy hat that made her look like a second year rather than a seventh year. Even running late, she was dressed more appropriately than you were.

“There you guys are,” you huffed when they got closer, “we’ve been waiting for like ten minutes. It’s freezing.”

“Maybe you should’ve dressed warmer,” Jay said, shrugging, “just an idea. Wanna go inside?”

“I thought you’d never ask.”

The five of you entered the tavern, immediately met with a wave of warmth and the chatter and laughter of the fellow tavern-goers. The scent of Butterbeer and Rum enveloped your nose and made you smile without realizing. The warm lighting welcomed you into a table around the middle of the room.  

A waiter soon found his way to your table, “Good evening, everyone. Do you all know what you want or should I give you a few minutes and then come back?”

“I think it’ll just be a round full of Butterbeer, so long as that’s okay with you.” Sunghoon motioned to the whole table, smiling at the waiter.

“On it. I’ll be right back with those for you.”

Talk about school and classmates flowered easily into the conversation, mostly about Quidditch and your recent loss to Gryffindor’s team a weekend prior. Sunghoon wasn’t pleased about the situation, and he especially made his disdain towards the Gryffindor Quidditch team captain, Jake Sim, known.

“It’s bloody stupid,” he nagged, “Sim caught the Snitch at the worst time. We were up 20, and then of course the ‘Golden Boy’ had to sweep in and get the victory. God, I hate Gryffindor.”

Your friends all agreed with Sunghoon, but you kept quiet. 

You were secretly dating Lee Heeseung, one of the Chasers on the Gryffindor team, and none of your friends knew. You had shown up to the match with them, clad in your Slytherin attire, cheering on Sunghoon. In the middle of the match, however, you feigned sickness, and told your friends you were going back to your room to rest. You roomed with Yizhuo, so you had to make sure that whenever you were done with fibbing to them, you had to beat her back to the housing.

What you were really doing was going back to the Slytherin common rooms to change into Gryffindor attire so you could cheer on your boyfriend. Luckily, the entire house was attending the match, so you had no worries about being caught in the Gryffindor wear. You snuck back to the match and found yourself with a few of Heeseung’s friends, Kai, Minjeong, and Yeojin.

Your friends still had no idea (you hoped) about what happened that day, and you intended to keep it that way. So, instead of speaking against their badmouthing, you just sat there in silence.

The waiter returned with your drinks and you wasted no time getting started on yours.

As if on cue, a voice cut through the noise that you would be able to recognize anywhere; it was Heeseung, accompanied by Jake, Yeojin, and Minjeong, who had just also walked into Three Broomsticks.

“Speak of the Devil.” Sunghoon snarled at the presence of the four.

“Ironic,” Hyeju laughed, “that’s bloody ironic.”

The four Gryffindors sat themselves at a table not far from where you and your friends were sat, close enough to be in earshot despite the chatter of the tavern.

You knew Sunghoon was a lightweight, but you didn’t think he’d be drunk (or ballsy) enough to already start conflict with the Gryffindors.

“Aye, Sim,” he called, to which Jake whipped his head around to spot the voice. At the sight of Sunghoon, he rolled his eyes.

Heeseung had also turned his head, quickly scanning the group to look for you. His gaze softened when you locked eyes, but he quickly sent a glare to Sunghoon.

“What do you want, Park?” Jake asked, turning his body around to face your table. He laughed, “Not still caught on that Quidditch match, are you?”

“Oh, yes, I am, actually. Some bloody sense of luck you’ve got, I wouldn’t be surprised if you’d cheated to win.” 

Jake rolled his eyes again, “Maybe we’re just better, Park. Ever think of that?”

“No,” Sunghoon glared, “it has never been a thought in my mind, and it never will be. Because it’s just not true.”

“You really think so? Because, if I recall correctly, one of your friends even came to cheer on Gryffindor. Some loyal housemates you have,” Jake said, “won’t even cheer on their own team because they know we’re better.”

Jake’s eyes flashed towards your own for a split second, making you widen your eyes in an attempt to get him to stop talking. 

“As if,” Sunghoon commented. He looked at all of you, “because I saw them all there cheering for Slytherin.”

“Clearly you weren’t looking close enough.”

You saw Sunghoon furrow his eyebrows, to which he glanced back around the table. You swallowed briefly, hoping that he wouldn’t notice your nervous look. You again widened your eyes at Jake, urging him to stop.

“What’s going on…?” Sunghoon looked confused, and a bit hurt.

Yeojin grabbed Jake’s shoulder, letting him know that he should probably let up and not let his pride get the best of him.

“Can someone please just explain what’s going on?” 

The desperation in Sunghoon’s voice caused you to look over at Heeseung, who gave you a reassuring smile, almost telling you, ‘It’s okay, let them know if you want to’.

You sighed and grabbed Sunghoon’s arm, forcing his attention towards you. His look melted from one of hurt and confusion to another of something indescribable.

“I’m sorry for keeping this a secret,” you started, “but now that you know, I can’t lie anymore.”

“Did you really go cheer on our rivals, Y/N?” Hyeju asked, looking at you with a hint of betrayal.

“I did. But I had a reason to,” you clarified, “because otherwise I would have never cheered on Gryffindor. No offense, Jake.”

Yizhuo stifled a laugh at the look that Jake gave you which was one of shock. It seemed like out of all your friends, she cared the least about the situation at hand. Jay and Sunghoon stayed quiet.

You stood up from your spot and walked over to behind Heeseung and placed a hand on his shoulder. You sent your best friends a slightly apologetic look, but started, “I cheered on Gryffindor because I…”

You trailed off. This was a lot harder than you’d anticipated. You started again, “I’m dating Lee Heeseung. He’s a Chaser, and I’d gone to every other match to cheer him on. Sunghoon, I’m really sorry about lying. It wasn’t fair to you guys.”

“You have a boyfriend?” Jay questioned, finally breaking his silence. He laughed, “God, I thought you were going to die alone. This is great news, actually.”

Yizhuo and Hyeju laughed, and the tension seemed to ease at the joke. Even Jake cracked a smile. 

But Sunghoon still didn’t say anything.

You returned to your seat which was next to him. He barely acknowledged your presence.

“Do you wanna talk?” You asked. You looked at him, “We can go outside.”

Sunghoon vaguely nodded and stood up to lead you outside into the cold. Once outside, he sighed.

“I’m really sorry, Sunghoon. I should’ve been there to cheer you on,” you said, “I wasn’t being a very good friend.”

“It’s not even about that, Y/N.” He spoke, frustrated, yet seemingly more calm than earlier, “Why did it have to be a Gryffindor of all houses? Our rival house? Really?”

“I know, I’m sorry…” you apologized, “but it just kind of happened. Honestly, I am sorry for lying to you all for so long. But I’m the happiest I’ve been.”

“When did you start seeing him?”

Heeseung stepped out of the door right before Sunghoon started his sentence, and answered the question for you:

“We’ve been together since April.”

“April? Y/N, that’s a long time.” Sunghoon said exasperated.

“I know,” you said, watching Heeseung make his way to stand behind you. You brought your attention back to Sunghoon, “but you always talk so lowly of Gryffindors. I didn’t want you to feel betrayed.”

“I’m more upset that you felt the need to lie to us for so long, Y/N,” he huffed, “I’m really happy that you’re happy. But we’re your best friends, why didn’t you feel like you could trust us with knowing this?”

Heeseung wrapped his arms around your shoulders to preserve heat. Sunghoon’s gaze softened at your smile towards Heeseung.

“I’m happy for you,” Sunghoon said, “I really am. I’m sorry we had to find out like this, my pride got the better of me during the argument.”

“I forgive you, and I’m sorry for lying to you.”

“It’s okay, we know now, and that’s what matters,” Sunghoon replied, “at least you’re not dating Sim. That’s what really matters.”

You laughed at him.

“I’m gonna go back inside,” he told you, “and maybe try to make friends so that things aren’t weird,” he stopped, looking at Heeseung, “but you better treat her well. I have no problem being anti-Gryffindor again.”

Heeseung laughed nervously as Sunghoon entered the tavern again. You turned around in his embrace, craning your neck to look at him. 

“So,” you started.

“So?” He questioned, raising an eyebrow at you and breaking into a smile.

“I’m sorry.”

“Why are you sorry, angel? You did nothing wrong. It’s better that they found out eventually, but I should be sorry for not keeping Jake in check.”

“You’re okay,” you reassured, wrapping your arms around him. You pressed your cheek against his chest, “I’m happy they know. Sunghoon will get over the loss.”

“Hopefully.”

You looked up to notice the snowfall that had started falling on Heeseung’s brown locks. You pressed yourself closer to him for warmth.

“Maybe they could even become friends.” You suggested.

“I hope they can become friends: Jake and Sunghoon. I feel like they’d click.”

Peeking into the window of the tavern, you noticed how your friends and Heeseung’s had conjoined into one table. 

You let your face break out into a relaxed smile, “Maybe.”

a/n : this was so fun to write i can’t wait to get to other reqs