#when i say i did this Super Fast i mean i did this today after work. still took several hours for whatever rzn

[knifebaby3000]

eleven years / when the thorn bush turns white, that's when i'll come home

[irndad]

hi im back! okey so def can see spencer still wanting to hug and snuggle with you even when fighting or mad at each other. he even gets genuinely ??? confused ??? when you try to sleep on the couch instead of in bed at night. he holds you and either reader or him is like "i know we are snuggling right now but i am still super pissed off at you." lol i can just see it. he may be petty when mad but he wont stop trying to touch you bc its a biological need of his and no argument is more important than needing you 🥺

enjoy this I did it very fast!!!! ily

He knows he’s not easy to be with sometimes. She would never say it, but it’s true. He doesn’t always get the jokes, sometimes pushes things too far and without even knowing it the ground gets pulled out from under him. 

And sleep- Sleep is so complicated. The memory of the first time she slept in his bed is etched into a place he could never erase. Spencer had always had trouble sleeping, either fear or alertness plaguing him into the late hours of the night. He used to lie awake, the kind of exhausted that feels like it’s seeping out of your bones, while constantly facts he’d unwittingly memorized about how sleep deprivation can cause brain damage. 

But then she’d come into his life. All soft words and gentle disposition, and there really is something magic about the way that everything just dissipates when her warm, soft body curves into his own. He’s slept well almost every night since. 

Except today, she isn’t coming to bed. 

It’s his fault, and he knows it. He wasn’t being fair. She hadn’t seen him for two weeks (and he hadn’t slept nearly enough without the weight of her form beside him since the last time he saw her) and she’d said that she wanted to be prioritized more. 

“I haven’t seen you in weeks, Spence!”

His head was killing him. Was it actually possible, for a headache to kill you? Her voice is audibly upset, and it’s alarming how he could be the cause of it. 

“Please,” he had said through labored effort, “Can we talk about this later?” 

“When would you like to talk about it? Because I don’t ever know if you’re leaving-“

“Do you even know what it is that I do?  That it’s not a choice for me to go? I have to do this. I can’t pick and choose and honestly, I don’t want to. If you don’t get that, we’re not doing what I thought we were doing.”

It sounds foreign, his own voice. And it’s after he’s said it that the sick taste reaches his throat because oh, that means the end. Her lovely face is unreadable for a brief moment, before something like grief splays over her expression.

It’s silent for a beat, and Spencer wishes he could swallow the words back up, rewind his life like a battered VHS tape where he’s not so stupid to mess up the one thing that’s ever brought him peace.

“You’re not yourself, Spencer. I’m gonna give you a minute.”

A minute, it turns out, is hours in the living room. She hadn’t left, thank fucking god, but she hadn’t come back. Of course she hadn’t. She wasn’t the one who needed to apologize. 

He’s just so tired. 

He thinks of her so-sweet voice, the curve of cheek- the junction of her neck and shoulder, and how much he would like to have her pressed against him. He pads out into the living room like a nervous puppy, and sees her sleeping on the olive green couch she had picked out. Her hair was splayed across the arm of the sofa, and her head laid on a throw pillow, their fuzziest blanket draped across her form. 

His first thought is how low he’s dropped, that he’s jealous of a blanket. 

His second his that she is not coming to bed. He sits beside her gingerly, and the scent of her body wash lingers in the air. 

“Are you planning on coming to bed?”

“I didn’t think you’d want me to.” He can tell she wants to sound cold, but the truth is much worse; she sounds guarded. 

“I always want you to.” It’s the most honest thing he’s said today, and it’s just not fair, how much he revolves around her. How he has waited 14 days, 13 hours and 34 minutes to hold her again and managed to ruin it within the first 20 minutes of having seen her again. He grabs her hand, soft and pliant against his in a way that almost makes his heart leap. “Please? Come to bed?”

Her gaze softens, the warmth and light that guides him back in her eyes, and he hopes his relief isn’t too visible. It’s then that she drinks him in. It feels too revealing like she can see right through him. His clothes are old. He’d rushed off the jet to see her, and the half moon circles under his eyes only lend to the unimpressive picture of himself. 

“Oh, sweetheart,” she breathes, touching the side of his face. He instantly leans into it, the contact more than he’d be willing to give up to save his dignity. “Come here.”

She wraps her arms around him, and he pulls her into his lap, squeezing her tight to his chest, like she might disappear. 

“I’m still mad at you,” she says, looking at him with such affection it betrays her words.

“That’s okay,” he says into her collarbone, “As long as I still have you.”

[jasmineeeeeeeeesblog]

Y’all I’m klauses and Caroline biggest shipper they should’ve been end game 😔

CAUGHT

‼️SMUT‼️:p in v, masturbation, oral (m! Receiving and f! Receiving), face fucking.

Summary: You were a werewolf. You ran your pack so unfortunately living in New Orleans. You had to report back to Klaus.

———————

I was one of the many who had to answer to Klaus. It’s not like I hated the man personally but I know he’s done very bad things . If he needed to he would cross you in a heart beat. He’s even done it to his own family. I stayed out the way with my pack and only seen him when I had too. I didn’t want my pack to get affected because I was too selfish to go meet with the big bad hybrid. He was not that bad to me. I mean obvious Klaus things but he was actually pretty kind towards me compared to others but I think that’s just towards women. I’ve never done anything to get on his bad side. I mean who would want to try. I may be a werewolf but I’m mortal. Who I look like going against an immortal original hybrid. That’s like a death wish. I’m not that stupid. He was attractive he had blonde curly hair, a fit figure, tall, and blue eyes. He was the definition of hot but id be dumb enough to fall for him. Any girl that falls for him ends up dead or was used by him. Getting caught up with Klaus is the last thing I want to do. I walk into the compound looking for Klaus. I hear him yelling my name. Me thinking something was wrong I use my super speed from my moonlight ring and I was at his bedroom door.

The door was cracked open. I could see Klaus with his around his dick with him moaning my name. “Just like that Y/n” He looked like a masterpiece his head flew back, cheeks red, messy hair, shirtless, and with gray sweatpants on. I would be lying if I said I didn’t want him right now. I move slightly and he heard his eyes shot up at me he threw the covers over himself and fixed his pants under them. I stared at him. “Oh un y/n I wasn’t suspecting you” he says breathlessly. “I thought today we had the meeting” I say. “Oh I forgot to tell you that it got canceled” he says. “Yeah I can see you were busy” I say with a smirk. His face falls down to a frown. I get down on the bed and push him back again. “Don’t let me stop you” I say. He gulps as he brings his hand to his sweatpants grabbing his dick and pulling it out. He wrapped a hand around it and started going at a slow pace teasing himself. I take his other hand and slip into my shirt and my bra. I watched him touch himself with a moan as he played with my nipple. He threw his head back with a moan. After all that shit I was talking I’m here in his bed…

He bucked his hips at his hand. He made eye contact with me. I felt my stomach getting butterflies. As I got wetter. He took my boob out of my shirt and then did the same with the other one. He pulled me up onto to him and whispered in my ear “please touch me.” His voice made me wanna go insane. I brought my hand to his dick. He moaned in my ear then started kissing my neck and touching all over of my boobs. I start stoking him at a fast pace. This big bad hybrid falling apart all because of my hand. I start kissing his neck and torso. “You’re falling apart all because of my hand” I said as I came back to his ear. “Y/n I’ll fuck the shit out of you right now don’t tease me” he says. “Who’s stopping you from not” I say with a smirk. I see his eyes turn into the gold and seeing his veins for a second then it went back to normal. He grabs my head and pushes it down to his dick. “Use you’re lips for something other than talking” he says. I slowly take his tip in my mouth licking and sucking it. He let out a groan and grabbed the back of my head and pushed me down and I gagged. He took his hand off fast but I grabbed it back and put his hand back on it. He started face fucking me. His moans were driving me insane. “Y/n can I finish in your-“ he said cut off by his own moans as I start going up and down at a fast pace and sucking him as I did and licking down his dick. He finished in my mouth and I swallowed it.

He sat up and opened my lips and seen that I swallowed it. I seen him get hard again. “You’re so perfect Y/n” he said. He flipped me over onto his bed and start kissing all down me taking my shirt off and just ripping my bra. I look at him frustrated as that was my favorite bra “don’t worry love I’ll get you new ones” he said with a smirk. He was kissing and leaving hickeys all over my breast’s and stomach. He reached the hem of my leggings and looked up at me for permission. I shook my head yes. He slid my panties and leggings down and off. I was fully naked in front of him and exposed before I could even let that sink in he slipped his fingers in me. I threw my head back. “Klaus” I said with a moan. He looked up at me with a smirk as he brought his lips to my clit. His pace quickened. He soon found my g-spot and I grinded against his fingers with a loud moan. He started hitting it at a fast pace will his tongue circled my clit. My legs were shaking. “Klaus I’m about to-“ I said but my head went back as he went faster and I finished all over his fingers. He grabbed my jaw with his other hand and made me look at him as he licked my juices off his hand. I sat up and slid his sweatpants all the way off. “Someone’s needy” he says.

He pulled me into a kiss as he laid me back on the bed and pulled away as he aligned himself to my entrance. “Can I do this y/n” he says. Instead of answer him I slowly push down onto him taking some of him he then slid the rest in me. I let out a gasp. He slowly pulled out and I whined. He than went back in me hard. I brought my hands to his back and started scratching it. He started pounding into me fast and hard. “You’re such a mess for me” he said kissing me. I cried out as he hit my g-spot. I tightened against him my whole body shaking as I finished around him. He threw his head back as I squeezed him. He went at a faster pace pounding into me. We were both a mess. He started slapping on my clit. I finished around his dick for the second time as he bottomed out and finished deep in me then with a few more thrusts to ride out our highs. He then collapsed on top of me. “This isn’t done yet”he said as fell asleep. Now I was up alone this man had just made me finish 3 times in less than an hour. That was the best sex I’ve ever had in my life but then I realized I was just another fuck to him. I was gonna leave before he woke up so it wasn’t awkward. I waited and made sure he was asleep. I used my super speed I grabbed my leggings and threw them on and I found his jacket on a chair my shirt was teared and I’d just give his hoodie back or throw it away. I ran to the door I opened it and Elijah was there about to knock. He seen the state of the room and of me and he smirked “where are you going” he says. I just run past him he didn’t make it a thing to find me but I know he was going to wake up Klaus. He probably wouldn’t care though. How was I supposed to face him after this.

I went to the bayou where my pack was. My best friend seen me as I was and started questioning me. She could smell the hoodie it was klauses scent. She started asking questions as in what happened but I just ignored her. I hope I didn’t make klaus mad and he wouldn’t want to help my pack. I’ll just go over and apologize later. I don’t know why I left but I just didn’t wanna be there when he woke up. I get in the shower and wash off. Then I get out and his scent from the hoodie was driving me insane for some reason. So I put it back on with some shorts. It’s been a few hours and he hasn’t came angrily over yet so I think I’m in the clear until I have to see him again. He probably didn’t care that much then. I laid on my bed and fell asleep. I soon woke up to someone opening my door I shot up. It was a dark figure I could see. I checked the time it was 2am. I grabbed a random object to throw at the person. The figure turned the light on and it was Klaus I set the object down. “Why’d you leave” he says in a stern tone. “I don’t know” I say. “That’s the reason you left I wanted you to stay” he says. “Why so I could be your new fuck buddy that you just use” I say snapping at him. I don’t know why I did he could kill me at any moment. “Is that really what you think about me” he says his face softened. I shake my head slightly. He crawled onto the bed with me and sighed. He laid on top of me not in a sexual way but more in a soft way and he rubbed my hips. I rubbed the back of his hair and he laid he sighed as he fell asleep. I soon fell asleep with him feeling safe in his embrace.

——————

This was smut with a little fluff I thought it’d be cute

[axelsagewrites]

Could you do a Roy or Jamie fic where the reader gets hurt? Even something silly like getting hit in the head with a ball at practice or something! They’re super concerned and want to take care of them! I also love angst…sorry if it’s a stupid idea. No worries if you don’t want to write it 💜✨

Jamie Tartt*Practise Mishap

Pairing: Jamie x f!reader

Word count: 1291

Warnings: reader getting hit by a football (which hurts a lot btw from experience), Jamie feeling guilty, fluff

A/n: i love this idea btw ive been wanting to write something like this for a while but i made this more fluff than angst

Masterlist here

You’d never actually seen Jamie at practise. There was the occasional time where you dropped him off or picked him up after, but you never lingered since he needed to concentrate. However today Jamie in all his genius managed to forget his phone this morning.

“Wouldn’t have forgotten it if you hadn’t have distracted me love,” he teased, a smirk toying on his lips that made you smack his chest.

“Can you not?” you said, nodding to where the coaches stood only a couple feet away.

Of course, Roy heard. A loud groan came from him before he barked at Jamie, “Back on the field Tartt,”

“You staying to watch Jamie in action?” Ted asked, far more politely than Roy who was sulking at the suggestion.

You looked between him and Jamie who seemed to perk up at the idea, “Is that allowed?”

“I don’t see why not,”

“Maybe he’ll actually put some effort in,” Roy mumbled.

Jamie just rolled his eyes at Roy before giving you a quick kiss, “Get ready to see the king in action,” he said before running back on the field as you laughed.

“How do you stand him?” Roy grunted.

Truthfully you found Jamie’s cockiness annoyingly attractive, but you didn’t think Roy needed to hear that. “What can I say? I’m a saint,” you joked.

Even though the practise was interesting at first it was just boys kicking balls around a field and the illusion quickly worn off. That plus you were supposed to get a bunch of things done at home since it was a rare day off. You turned to Ted to tell him, “I’ll probably shoot off in a minute or two,” you said at the same time as someone yelled “Watch out!”

Roy tried to grab your arm, pulling you out the way, but not fast enough and a ball planted right in the middle of your chest, knocking you off your feet. You hit the ground with a thud and all the air was knocked out your lungs.

You heard Jamie shout your name, but you were too busy coughing up a storm and trying not to be sick. Roy and Ted had crouched down beside you, Beard shouting for Nate to run for the first aider. “Are you alright love?” Jamie asked, dropping to his knees beside you.

“I think- “your attempts to speak was interrupted by more coughing and the urge to be sick, “Ow,” you winced.

“What the fuck were you doing Colin?” you heard the footballers begin to argue as they all rushed to your side.

“I was trying to pass to Isaac! I didn’t know he didn’t see me,”

“When I said improve your kick, I didn’t mean kill Jamie’s bird,” Roy yelled at him, standing up.

Ted tried to calm him, but it was Jamie who spoke first, “Oi! The lot of you move it. you’re crowding her now piss off,” his anger washed off his face when he turned back to you, “C’mon love let’s get you some help,”

“I’m fine,” you winced as Jamie pulled you to your feet.

“No, you’re not now be quiet and let me help you,” he said as he helped you over to sit on a bench at the side. The first aider came and gave you a once over and said it was all good but to be careful. So, Jamie naturally made them triple check. Colin also came over, apologising a million and one times to which you assured him it was okay, and Jamie tried not to death glare him.

Some water and painkillers did help but you still weren’t feeling amazing. Ted walked over with a guilty smile on his face, “How we are doing over here folks?”

“Better now,” you smiled, hiding your wincing as best you could.

“I’m gonna kill Colin,” Jamie muttered.

You rolled your eyes, placing a hand over his, “It was an accident babe. Let’s just let it go, okay?” Jamie didn’t say anything, but you knew he wouldn’t. “But I should defiantly go now,”

“Well Rebecca gave me a call saying to tell Jamie to take the afternoon off and take care of you,” Ted said and before you could protest, he cut you off, “Its doctors orders, okay? Now scamp you too. And try take it easy, okay?”

You felt bad making Jamie miss the end of practise but right now football was the last thing on his mind. after dropping you off at his place and surrounding you with pillows and blankets Jamie went on a Tesco run for snacks.

When he got back you laughed when you saw the almost overflowing bag. “We’ve got enough to survive the winter,” you joked as he sat it down. “You’re spoiling me,”

“Never,” Jamie said with a bashful smile as he pulled out the flowers from behind his back, “Got ye these as well,”

“Aw Jamie,” you gushed, standing up to take them from him but you winced slightly as you did.

Instantly concern washed over his face as he grabbed your arm to steady you despite you not actually falling, “You alright love? I knew that women missed something. What hurts- “

“Jamie,” you interrupted him, cupping his face with your hands making him pause in his tracks, “I’m fine baby I swear. Are you?”

“Yeah, course I am,” he said, wrapping his arms around you, “I just don’t want you getting hurt and that. I just feel bad’s all,” he said, mumbling as he hugged you tighter.

You moved your head to rest on his shoulder, hugging him back, “But why?”

“You were there to see me and then you got hurt. I know how hard those balls can hit,” he said before sighing, “Its all my fault,” he mumbled making your heart break.

You pulled back only to pull him to sit on the couch next to you, placing the flowers on the coffee table, “It was an accident. It was no one’s fault,”

“It was colin’s fault,”

“It was no one’s fault,” you repeated, rolling your eyes with a small smile, “Now are you gonna sit and mope all day or are you gonna take care of me?”

Finally, a smile cracked onto his lips, “Thought it didn’t hurt anymore?”

“I lied,” you said, sinking back into the couch in a dramatic display, “I am wounded beyond belief. You’ll need to do everything I need,” you joked with a hand splayed across your head.

Jamie leaned down to press a gentle kiss to your forehead, “Don’t I always?” he smiled. “Want me to put those in some water?”

“Yes please,” you grinned as Jamie got up to sort out the flowers, but you called out before he could leave the room, “Can we have a movie night?”

“If that’s what the lady wants, that’s what the lady gets,” he grinned, “Just try not pick a total chick flick,” he added with a smirk that made you roll your eyes.

By the time he’d returned with drinks and a takeaway menu you already had 27 dresses queued up, “Oh c’mon,” Jamie protested as he dropped onto the couch beside you.

“Please, I’m injured,” you teased making him roll his eyes but finally agree. Despite his protests Jamie was more into the movie than you were and made you pinkie promise to pause it when he went to get the food when it arrived.

Four chick flicks and an unholy amount of food later you and Jamie were curled up on the couch under a pile of blankets. “Feeling better?” he murmured in your ear though you could hear from his voice he was already half asleep.

“Feeling perfect baby, thank you,”

“Anything for you,”

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[nhlclover]

𝐆𝐎𝐎𝐃 𝐋𝐔𝐂𝐊, 𝐖𝐈𝐋𝐋 | 𝐖𝐈𝐋𝐋 𝐒𝐌𝐈𝐓𝐇

summary: after radio silence from you, will worries that you've forgotten your pregame tradition before his nhl debut.

warnings: little tiny bit of angst in the beginning, kissing, gross fluff

word count: 1.04k

notes: this almost went a totally different (and heartwrenching) way. also i know this is unrealistic but i don’t care!

The air crackled with anticipation as the Sharks’ first game of the season loomed closer, the arena filling with a sea of excited fans eager to witness the dawn of a new era in Bay Area hockey. The buzzing energy seeped through the concrete walls, even reaching the locker room where Will sat, shoulders hunched, elbows resting on his knees. His gaze stayed glued to the scuffed floor beneath him, though his mind was somewhere else entirely. He was thirty minutes away from making his NHL debut, the dream he’d worked toward his whole life. But instead of feeling exhilarated, his stomach was twisted into a million knots, and it was all because of you.

He ran a shaky hand through his unruly hair before picking up his phone for what felt like the hundredth time, staring at the screen with an expression that bordered on desperation. Still no messages. His thumb hovered over your contact, but he stopped himself from calling. You’d always been the first to text him before every game, sending a sweet “good luck” that never failed to make him smile, no matter how many times he read it. It was your thing, something he’d come to rely on, especially on game days. Today, of all days, you hadn’t said a word.

Will swallowed hard, trying to drown out the unsettling thud of disappointment. He clenched his jaw, tossing his phone into the compartment above his head with a bit more force than necessary.

“Yo, Will, what’s with the long face?” Macklin asked, dropping into the spot beside him, his voice cutting through the low hum of pregame chatter. “You’re about to live the dream, man. Smile a little.”

Will exhaled heavily, rubbing a hand over his tired eyes. “It’s nothing. Just… personal stuff.”

Macklin leaned in, his expression both amused and concerned. “Personal stuff? Come on, dude, you’re acting like you lost your puppy or something. Spill.”

“It’s just…” Will hesitated, debating whether he should even say it out loud. Finally, he gave in. “My girlfriend, she’s always texted me before every game. It’s kind of our thing. But today—nothing. And it’s driving me insane, man.”

“Dude, you’re trippin’ over a text?” Macklin shook his head with a grin. “She’s probably just busy or caught up with something. Doesn’t mean she forgot about you.”

Will nodded, though Macklin’s words did little to ease the uneasy feeling lodged in his chest. He wanted to believe that was all it was, but the silence from you felt heavier today, almost like a warning sign he couldn’t ignore.

The minutes ticked by, each one dragging slower than the last, and soon enough, Coach Warsofsky’s booming voice echoed through the room, calling everyone to attention. “Alright, listen up! First game of the season, boys. This is where we show everyone what Sharks hockey is all about. But before we hit the ice, we’ve got a special guest who is going to announce our starting lineup for tonight.”

Will barely registered the words, his mind still tangled up in thoughts of you, until he heard a voice that made him freeze.

“Hey, everyone. I’m super excited to be here tonight.”

His head snapped up so fast it was a miracle he didn’t get whiplash. There you were, standing just inside the doorway, looking slightly nervous but glowing under the fluorescent lights. It took him a second to realize he wasn’t dreaming, and when your eyes met his, all the tension drained out of his body. For the first time all day, he felt like he could finally breathe.

You cleared your throat, glancing down at the paper in your hands as you began to read out the names of Will’s teammates. With each name, the excitement in your voice grew, until you reached the last one. “And finally, starting at center, number 2…Will Smith!”

The room erupted into cheers, but Will didn’t hear any of it. He was already halfway across the room, ignoring the playful jeers from his teammates. He reached you in three long strides, scooping you up in his arms and lifting you off the ground. “You’re here,” he breathed, burying his face in your neck as if he needed to make sure you were real. “You actually came.”

You laughed, the sound like music to his ears. “Of course, I did. I wouldn’t miss this for the world.”

Before he could think twice, he kissed you, right there in front of his entire team, not caring one bit about the whistles and hoots echoing around the room. He pulled back just enough to look into your eyes, his thumb brushing over your cheek. “You had me worried, you know that?” he murmured. Will took your hand in his, leading you out into the hall where you could talk in private, away from his teasing teammates.

“Had to keep you on your toes,” you teased, giving him a playful nudge. “Besides, I wanted it to be a surprise.”

“Well, mission accomplished,” he chuckled, taking you back in his arms, keeping them wrapped around you as if afraid you might disappear. “I thought you forgot about me.”

“Never,” you said softly, fingers threading through his curls. “Good luck, Will. You’re going to be amazing.”

His heart swelled at your words, the weight that had been pressing down on him all day finally lifting. “Thank you,” he whispered. “You have no idea how much this means.”

He kissed you again, this time slower, savouring the warmth of your lips and the way you melted against him. His hands moved to your face, cupping your cheeks, feeling the way your lips curved into a smile against his. When he finally pulled back, his forehead resting against yours, he whispered, “I’ll make you proud out there.”

“You already have,” you replied, giving him one last peck on the lips. “You should probably go back now or else you’re gonna miss your first game.”

Will nodded, a confident smile spreading across his face. With one final squeeze of your hand, he turned and jogged back into the locker room, feeling lighter than he had all day. The game hadn’t even started yet, but he already knew this was going to be a night he’d never forget.

[lady-ace]

Injustice Ghost

(Putting out an Halloween post because why not? By the way, there will be mentions of blood and death, since this will talk about Injustice Billy, and what happened to him.)

Captain Marvel was missing.

Of course, the superhero comunnity was after the answers to what happened, and only got to know some things.

1-This was probably Circe's doing, going by the way the runes they found.

2-It could be undone.

3-The captain switched places with someone- and that someone could have come from anywhere in the multiverse. So, alternative universes were not out of the table.

It was going to be a long week, but it will be worth it.

/ / /

After a long mission and even longer meeting about said mission, Barry was hungry, (Well, running for a long time with no food and super fast metabolism does that to someone) and so decided to eat something in the Watchtower's kitchen.

As it was night and some people decided to go straight to bed after mission, some lights were off. When Barry opened the door leading to the kitchen, he headed for the light switch.

..That is, until he saw something in the dark. The only thing lightning up the room being the faint lights the window provided.

The thing he saw looked.. small. Where it eyes should be, Barry could see right through.

“Hello?”

Barry asked, and received no answer. As the silence dragged on, he decided to flip the light switch he was reaching for earlier. Maybe it was nothing after all?

As the lights came to life, Barry saw the figure. No, the boy.

He was indeed small, maybe 8 to 9 years old. Skinny, too. The weirdest thing about him was that he simply didn't have eyes. Where his eyes should be, there were simply nothing, the borders of where the eyes were supposed to be were caked in blood. In fact, the boy himself seemed see-through, transparent.

The child, who was looking at the window previously, startled when the lights came on, looking at Barry directly before vanishing into thin air.

“Oookay. That happened. Good to know the watchtower's haunted.”

/ / /

Barry: “Did i tell you guys what i saw in the kitchen last night?”

GL (Hal): “No? What did you see?”

Barry: “I think i saw a spirit. No, i'm sure i saw a spirit. Or a ghost.”

GL, in a disbelieving tone: “Dude, what? Are you serious?”

Barry: “I swear. It was a child, and when i flipped the light on, it just looked up at me and vanished! Gone!”

Clark, who was more believing: “So, you're saying the watchtower's haunted? How would this ghost even get here?”

[Barry shrugs]

/ / /

Clark thinks he finally understands what Barry means when he comes face to face with the ghost himself.

This time, it was in the watchtower's recreation room.

Since a meeting was to start soon enough, Clark decided to be extra early, and waited patiently in the recreation room. Currently, he was the only one here, as Bruce was in the meeting room already, probably planning how it will go.

According to the jornal Clark was reading, today was a slow day, with only Central and Gotham being attacked by major villains today, what most likely will be brought up in the meeting.

A shuffling sound besides Clark had him looking up from the jornal, looking directly at something that he had heard about before.

“..You're the ghost Flash told me about, aren't you?”

He asked the spirit, who looked at him blankly.

“You.”

It said. It's voice had an echo quality to it, and was so impossibly quiet, almost a whisper.

“Me? What about me?”

Clark asked the boy, confused.

“Why?”

It questioned, instead of answering.

“Huh?”

The boy stepped closer, as if analyzing Clark's very being.

“Why?”

It repeated, louder and clearer this time. Clark was sure if this.. person (?) had eyebrows, he would be frowning.

“I'm sorry, i don't understand what you mean.”

Clark told the spirit, with an apologetic tone in his voice. It was more than clear this ghost was trying to tell him something, ask him something. And yet, it wasn't able to, or rather, couldn't bring itself to.

The ghost got even closer, one hand pointing to it's eyes.

“This. Why?”

It asked, it's voice filled with hurt, betrayal. Like Clark himself had done something unforgivable.

“..You're asking me why are your.. uh.. eyes that way?”

The ghost shook it's head 'no', and then used the finger that was pointing to it's 'eyes' to get some of the blood in it's face, and proceeded to walked even closer to Clark, now directly in front of him.

As Clark was about to ask something, the boy began floating. The spirit floated up, until it was eye level with him, and put the finger on the jornal Clark was holding, the bloody fingerprint being fixated on a specific news title.

“Multiple innocent lives unfortunately lost in sudden villain attack!”

These words now stood out against the other news coming from Gotham. Clark just read about this- Joker had escaped Arkham yet again, but this time, without anyone knowing, and had planted a bomb on park. Hidden from anyone's view, it went off, killing some people who were just enjoying the afternoon in the park that day.

“Were you one of Joker's victims, little one?”

Clark questioned in the soft tone he uses with scared children- since others in the league don't talk much with civillians after savings, the responsibility almost always falls either on his, Diana's or (surprisingly) Bruce's shoulders.

If this was the spirit of a child who's life was lost in a tragic accident like this, Clark would stop at nothing to give it rest. No one deserved to be stuck, especially since this ghost didn't seem all that happy.

..is what he thought, until the ghost shook it's head no, and then paused.

“Joker? But..”

It's voice was quieter again. It- no, he, looked like he realized something.

"..joker's dead. You..”

Before any questions could be asked, the ghost spoke up again.

“You aren't him, are you? I don't belong here. i don't want to be here. Go away!”

Was the last thing Clark heard the boy say, before he pushed him (or tried to, really, he phased right through him) and disappeared into nothingness, just like Barry had told him he had done before.

This isn't just a silly little fact told by friends to scare each other. The watchtower truly is haunted.

/ / /

(this will have a part 2, i just don't know when)

[misstycloud]

Yandere Omega with a reader who has a lot of money and treats him like royalty, in addition to being super affectionate and coveted by other omegas

Sry this sucks I wanted it gone from my drafts or it’ll be there forever💀

——————

“I want more grapes.”

“Of course, sir.”

“Actually, add some strawberries while you’re at it.”

“Certainly.”

Inside a lavishly decorated penthouse, numerous people were running around doing different task assigned to them. The stress and anxiety of not performing their task correctly or perfectly enough hung well over their heads in a thick ominous cloud.

“Ah, be careful with those! They’re not cheap. Geez, you’d think they’re worth less than carboard the way they’re handling them”

The orchestrator of this was none other than a frail-looking young man, and not at all a scary operator.

He was beautiful- the man. Without a doubt one of the best looking people you’d walk by in your life. Which is obviously one of the reasons for his now luxurious lifestyle.

“Excuse me, sir?” said a voice nervously.

The omega swallowed the berry in his mouth, chewed lazily before saying, “Yes.”

“Your- ehm- order has arrived.”

He furrowed his brows, going through his memories, “But you said the bone china plates already arrived a few days ago? And that painting I wanted, it’s right there in the wall, you see.”

The attendant cleared his throat uncomfortably while loosening his collar. “Yes, they did arrive as well as the painting. However this is one of the- ehem- special orders. I put them away privately in your bedroom.”

Suddenly a lightbulb went off in the beautiful man’s head and he exclaimed in delight, “Ah, you mean one of those orders! Why didn’t you just say so from the beginning?”

The attendant didn’t even bother to answer, knowing his master had already ran off to unbox his items.

The omega squealed in joy as soon as he opened the box. Inside, perfectly wrapped in protective layers, laid a matching set of lingerie. Created from exquisite lace the handmade underwear came at a hefty price. Not that he was the one paying.

Gosh, he was so lucky! You really spoiled him so much. No wonder his head is turning in the wrong direction. He was living every omega’s dream. Managing to catch the attention of a highly respected and wealthy alpha is something every omega is told they’re supposed to do, but it doesn’t guarantee the consequences coming with it are great.

Not all alpha’s carry the same respect for others, especially omegas. But you were different! You treated him with outmost care and spoon-feed him every second. Oh, he just loves you so much!

“I’m home!” A voice rung through the penthouse and reached him.

“Sweetie!” The omega hurried to the front door to greet his lover.

You were slightly thrown back because of the force he had gathered when he hit against your body. You hugged him to your body and ran your fingers through his hair. Leaning down to his height, you breathed in his wonderful scent and smiled in bliss. Then your nose travelled further down to his neck.

"Haha, hey!" The omega squirmed slightly in your grasp. "That tickles."

"Did you miss me?" You ignored his pleas and continued sniffing him while asking directly if he'd thought about you today.

He became quiet for a moment before saying, "No."

But when you began affectionatly tickle him for real he changed his tone fast. Both of you landed on the floor (you made sure he wasn’t harmed, of course) in a laughing mess as he begged for mercy and gave up fighting you.

He blushed before admitting, “Okay, I did miss you. A lot actually.”

“Of course you did. After all, you are mine. My little omega.”

[lcriedlastnight]

hi, can i please request a little fic where the reader moves from australia (totally fine if you don’t wanna do aus, feel free to pick another country!) to the uk for karting. she meets lando at school and their friendship kicks off when he hears her accent and realises how gorgeous she is, and since then they have grown up together. even when she decided to give up racing while he continued to go into f1 she was there from the beginning. just something cute showing the timeline of their little relationship

hi! this is such a great idea anon, lovely. ur a genius and ily. big hugs. also i cannot believe the race today, lando should’ve won my man needs a little luck pls.

tw: fem!reader, swears, me not knowing karting lore, me also not knowing anything about australia, swears, lmk if you want me to add anything. p.s i am working throught all of my asks rn, there was quite a few so i am trying my best to get through them all before i open them again!

w/c: 1.7k

you first met lando at a karting competition when you were fourteen. you had just moved to the uk and you didn't have many friends, seeing as you were very introverted when it came to settings like this. even though karting was your entire world sometimes the nerves around other people would just grow to be too much.

lando was a little older than you, just shy of a year, meaning that you were in the same year at school. you noticed him in one of your classes and recognised him from your most recent race, the weekend before. his tanned skin and infectious smile was hard to miss. of course meeting lando had to come at a time where everyone around you was starting to figure out who and what they were attracted to and as much as it embarrassed you to say it, lando was who you were attracted to.

it started off as a little crush, it was harmless and he didn't even know who you were. you made it that way, not trying to make any friends in school - or karting for that matter. you were not sure when it turned into infatuation but if there was one thing you were good at it was hiding your feelings. so when lando himself came over to you to congratulate you on getting p2, you hide your nerves like a pro and only made it seem like you were shy.

that was the first time lando had seen you and honestly he could not believe it. he thought he recognised you when you had stepped onto the podium just after the race had finished, when it clicked that he knew you from school he felt a little guilty that he had never given you the time of day before. how could he have walked around the halls of the school, possibly even brushing shoulders with you, and not even know about it. the mere thought felt like a crime. in that moment lando knew he had to get to know you better.

"you were super fast on track today." lando's accent rings through your ears as you turn around after another race. you didn't get a podium finish this time. neither did he but you are gobsmacked that he is standing in front of you, complimenting you.

"thanks. you too. you were zoomin' around it." you say, australian accent heavy around your words. this is not the first time you have spoken to lando but it seems it is the first time he has actually listened because up until just now he had no clue that you were australian.

"you're from australia?" he asks, trying to play it cool as his eyes dart around your face, taking you in like he has never looked at another person before. you nod, going a little shy at his blatant staring.

"are all the australian girls this pretty, or is it just you?" lando smiles at you, you can't decide if it is a cheeky smile or if he genuinely means it. just like you can't tell if he is flirting with you or if he seriously wants to know how pretty the girls are back home. his words leave you speechless, not knowing how to answer his question. it is like lando challenges your silence with his own. you are both quiet for a while. lando just knows from there that he needs you with him, he feels the need to warm you up to him and erase your awkward nature around him.

lando sticks by your side until you have no choice but to warm up to him. you end up becoming best friends with the boy, pushing that lingering crush to the back of your mind any time the two of you are together, although you feel it grow the more he grows into his looks and the more he grows into his personality as a whole. you find that he just understands you like no one else has ever done before. sometimes you don't even have to tell him whats wrong, he just knows and he knows the exact way to comfort or distract you through it. the curly haired boy is by your side through every single decision you make and vice versa.

lando was the first person you told when you decided that you were going to quit racing. you were only eighteen, him nineteen, when you realised that as much as you loved racing, you were not so sure that it loved you back. lando being a prime example of this. he was already in f1 starting next season, his rookie season with mclaren, their first seat filled with big racing star carlos sainz. lando was making it big and as you had told him many times as he made his way through all the championships, you knew he was going to go far and do everyone he loved proud. you, on the other hand, well you had barely even made a podium in the past year and half, nevermind actually winning races. you knew you just didn't have what it took to make it to formula one, like lando did.

"i think i'm going to quit racing." you had confessed to your best friend while he was driving you both to the mclaren technology centre. he had promised you a tour of the place and you had been begging him until he eventually gave in. lando almost crashed the car in shock.

"you what, sorry?" lando asks, foot back on the accelerator again as the car jolts back into action. the boys head keeps snapping to you when he can, turning to make sure you were not in fact, kidding. "you're serious?" he asks again as you fail to answer his first question.

"i am. i'm deadly serious." you affirm. lando's mouth opens in shock. there was just no way. you were his racing girl.

"i'm super thankful for racing and where it got me and who it gave me," you thank god lando's eyes were on the road because it gives you time to shake off your look of longing as you trail off a little. you pick yourself back up when he coughs a little to bring you back to earth. "but i'm so tired of waking up on a race day and dreading it. i always told myself when i was younger that no matter what, no matter what anyone told me, if i was unhappy doing something, even if it was something i used to love, i'd give it up. i'm not going to beat a dead horse."

your best friend listens intently as he drives you both closer to the centre. once you have stopped talking it is a little quiet. you long to break it but you know you need to let lando process this. neither of you can even remember a time in racing without each other. it sounded like lando's own personal version of hell.

"well i'm proud of you for putting your happiness first." lando starts as the car pulls up in the parking space, dedicated to him. the thing was, you were not even jealous of lando already being in f1. that is when you knew that your love for taking part in the sport had died. you would never stop watching it though. lando made you promise you would try and watch every race you possibly could when he finally started his first offical season in f1.

you had kept your promise and followed him through to what would now be his fifth season. you were his biggest chearleader, constantly posting on your instagram and twitter about how unfair the stewards were bring to lando, and taking to your socials to celebrate the big wins. and when in his fourth season he was promoted to first seat and the second seat was given to a fellow australian you began to wonder the same thing as many of his fans. 'is lando collecting pretty australians like infinity stones or what?!'

the post race interview after lando gets his first win at miami is one you will never forget, especially because he confessed his feelings for you on live tv. you were absolutely gutted about not being able to make it to the race, even though you were never planning on going in the first place, it hurt more that you could not be there to celebrate his first formula one win, especially when it feels like you have been by his side forever. you shoot him a text saying he deserved it and to facetime you if he has time before he goes out and you know he will text you back when he sees it.

as you are back in australia for three weeks, you are sitting with your family as you watch and wait for the podium ceremony. all you wanted was to see your boy finally lift his trophy. every part of you knew that he was just glowing. you hadn't even seen his face from under his helmet yet.

as he conducts one last post-race interview before he has to get back for the trophy ceremony, you and the whole world stop spinning.

"yeah, i need to thank my girl. if you see this, baby. i love you, m'racer girl and i miss you. this is for you, it's all for you. i know you're watching. i'll call you before you sleep." lando speaks into the cameras like he is replying to your text message. you doubt at first that he was actually talking to you until he called you his racer. you cannot believe he just said he love you in front of millions of people. you missed him a lot.

lando ends up calling you and admits yet again that he loves you and this time you say it back. you tell him about the crush you have had since you were fourteen, and he tells you about how much he misses you and wishes you were just there with him. the kiss lando gives you at the airport when you are both reunited is caught by many paps but you stopped caring the second your legs left the ground, wrapping around his waist as his tongue met yours.

you constantly appear on the quadrant channel, showing up all his friends in karting races and every single time lando tried to convice you to get back out.

"i'll leave it to the formula one grand prix winner i think." you smile at him, those words always got to him. he can't believe he got the car and the career he had always wanted. it was finally a win-win for lando, for once in his life.

[junrenjun]

but even after this, you're still everything to me

choi seungcheol x reader, formula 1 au

genre: heavy angst

wc: 5.5k

warnings: fem reader, enemies to lovers, misogyny, death threats

a/n: another request by @straykidsstanforeverandever. lot's of heavy f1 jargon and such in this. if you aren't super in tune with f1, there may some references you don't understand. read with caution. title is a lyric from the grudge by olivia rodrigo.

Imola has always been one of your least favorite tracks to drive. And after today, you never want to come near it again. Maybe you’ll fake an illness when the time comes around next season. It would be nice to let the development drivers get some real racing time and you wouldn’t have to drive this cursed track again. 

A voice in your ears distracts you from the little pity party you’ve started in your brain. “Are you okay y/n?” 

Your race engineer’s question reminds you that your radio is being publicized on live television right this moment. Sighing, you quickly respond, “yeah Will, I’m fine. Today’s just not my day.”

The answer is half-hearted, but the man knows better than to question you right now, when you’re being recorded. He settles with, “okay, red flags are out for you. You can hop out of the car when you’re ready.”

You don’t think you’ll ever be ready. But life is tough and Formula 1 is tougher, so you undo your belts and pull yourself out of the car. You take a minute to inspect your blown out tire, before taking your helmet off. Marshals surround you, asking if you are alright, but you brush them off. You just want to be back in your driver’s room already. 

The journey back to the paddock is a painful one, both mentally and physically. Your knee is throbbing from where it hit against the side of the car on impact. You pray the cameras don’t pick up your limp. It takes all of your energy not to cry when you see the pitying expressions of the rest of the McLaren crew. Another potential win out the window, just like that. 

The rest of the race passes by in a flash. Between going to medical as per your trainer’s request (the cameras did in fact pick up the limp) and changing out of your race suit, you only catch the last three laps. One of the Mercedes cars wins by practically a mile. And it’s fucking Choi Seungcheol of all people. 

You have half a thought to turn the TV in your driver’s room off the second he crosses the finish line, but you don’t. You’re itching to hear whatever dumb thing he says in his interview today. The man is a walking PR nightmare. 

Sure enough, the camera is chasing after him the second he steps out of the car. After a few second water break, he turns to the interviewer, who asks him, “Great win today Seungcheol. You worked your way up from 5th to 1st within a few laps today. How does that feel?”

“It feels great. I mean I couldn’t have done it without y/n’s tire of course…”

You turn the TV off, cutting him off the second he mentions your name. Slumping back even more on the couch, you throw an arm over your eyes and let out a frustrated sigh. Whatever possessed you to choose a male dominated sport?

You’re thrown out of your thoughts once again by a voice from your doorway. “At least it was kind of a compliment, eh?”

When you peek out from under your arm, Oscar is leaning against the doorframe, arms crossed. You remove your arm from your face, scooting farther down the couch and patting the spot next to you. The Aussie moves to join you. 

After a few moments of silence you turn to face him. “You made it back to the paddock pretty fast.”

It’s his turn to groan this time. “I retired 7 laps from the end. Engine failure. I was in 3rd.”

You hum, wistfully. Then turn to look out the window. “Bad day to be Papaya, I guess. Think we can convince Jungwon and Pato to take our places at Imola next season? I think I have PTSD from this track now.”

Oscar simply snorts in response. For the small amount of time remaining before you have to face the nightmare that is media duty, you simply enjoy sulking together. 

A little less than a week later, you’re standing on one of your all-time favorite tracks: Monaco. Your mood now is starkly different than it was at Imola. You’re practically bouncing on your heels waiting for FP1 preparations. Jungwon is by your side, instructed by your team principal to “learn from the best,” since he’ll be driving here for F2. 

The kid is clearly a little nervous, but he’s endearing and a pretty decent driver, so you don’t mind. You’ve already gone over the track layout with him, giving him tips for certain corners and telling him where he can make up extra time. There’s not much feedback left to give until you see him drive in person, so you resort to small talk.

As you both walk up and down the pit lane, Seungcheol saunters up to you. You resist the urge to walk away, trying to keep a good display of sportsmanship in front of your junior driver. The Mercedes driver however, clearly does not care, because he says, “is this your replacement after the Imola incident y/n?”

Jungwon, bless his soul, looks mortified. It takes everything in you to not fire a sarcastic remark back. You’re both saved from the awkwardness by Oscar though, who steps in between you and Seungcheol. He clears his throat and tells you, “Andrea is looking for you. I’ll take Jungwon for now.”

You know Andrea is most likely not looking for you. You saw him ten minutes ago when you left the garage. Thank god for Oscar’s ability for thinking on the spot. Now you have some personal time to cool off before free practice.

Both Jungwon and Oscar watch as you jog back to the garage. The Aussie lets out a relieved sigh once you are back safely. He turns to make sure Seungcheol has walked away. Thankfully, he has. 

The younger driver looks at the other quizzically. “I didn’t really realize the rivalry was actually real. I thought it was an act for the cameras.”

Pushing around a stray rock with the toe of his shoe, Oscar sighs again. “Would you believe me if I said they were teammates once?”

Jungwon’s jaw practically unhinges from his face with how far it drops. The kid is probably too young to know them in any capacity other than their rivalry. “But they hate each other…” he muses aloud.

Oscar urges the kid to keep moving along the track with a hand on his back. “Yeah, well they used to not hate each other. They were F2 teammates. It’s none of my business to tell you everything that went down but something happened that year. By the end of the championship they wouldn’t even speak to each other.” 

Jungwon nods in response, but doesn’t say anything. It’s clear that Oscar won’t give up much information, so he drops the subject. But every once in a while, his mind turns back to it. What could’ve been so bad that you guys couldn’t even talk to each other as teammates? If it was some sort of on-track collision he’s sure it would’ve been talked about in the media constantly. Now he’s really going to have to find out. 

And there’s no one better to consult than his own teammate, Lee Chan, who happens to be in the Mercedes Junior Driver Programme.

“You want me to do what?” he asks incredulously. “He’s my mentor, I’m not going to bring that up. Are you dumb?”

“Dude, aren't you curious too?” Jungwon questions.

Chan rolls his eyes at his teammate. “Yeah I’m curious but not curious enough to risk my spot in this program just to ask Choi Seungcheol why he has rivalry with y/n.” 

“You don’t even have to ask him directly,” Jungwon tells him. “I asked Oscar about it, not y/n. Maybe you can ask George or Jeonghan about it.”

Chan throws his hands up in exasperation. “Oh even better, not only do I involve two of the biggest names in Formula 1, I involve one of their trainers and their teammates. What a genius idea!”

Jungwon covers Chan’s mouth as quickly as he can. They’re still in the paddock after all. “Dude keep it down.” 

The man just stares back at the McLaren junior driver, who sighs and says, “listen, I’ll try my best to get something out of y/n too. It’s not just you doing something.”

“Yeah that’s so motivating Jungwon,” Chan says sarcastically.

“Okay, okay,” he finally lets up. “I’ll pay for all of your afterparty drinks this weekend if you figure something out.”

This is motivating enough for Chan apparently, because he reaches his hand out for Jungwon to shake. They come to an agreement and part ways, heading back to their respective hospitalities.

Chan watches in the Mercedes garage as you set the fastest lap at the very end of Q3. He knows Seungcheol is going to be pissed when he gets back. Not only did you qualify P1, but he only qualified P6. His temper is much worse when he’s mad at both himself and someone else. 

Following Chan’s prediction to a tee, Seungcheol steps out the car practically fuming. He tosses his helmet at Jeonghan, who, as his trainer, is quite used to his behavior at this point and catches it. He marches right up to Toto, who is watching a replay of your final lap, and says, “she should’ve had a track limit violation at the chicane.”

Toto turns to him, surprisingly calm, and simply tells him, “She didn’t cut the corner enough to incur a limit violation.”

This is not the answer he wanted to hear, so he turns on his heel to stomp off to his driver’s room. Toto shouts at him from over his shoulder. “Take Chan with you. If you’re going to overanalyze every single mistake you made, at least someone should learn from it.”

Seungcheol whips his head back around to look at Chan, who nervously gulps. He wants to be mad at the kid, but he can’t find a reason to when he’s practically shaking like a leaf. Clearly he didn’t want to be thrown into this situation either. “C’mon,” he mutters and gestures at the junior driver to follow him. 

Back in his driver’s room, he unzips his suit, tying the arms around his waist before plopping down on the couch. When he looks up, the kid is still hovering by the door. Grabbing his iPad from the table, Seungcheol gestures for him to come sit down.

But Chan hesitates. “I can leave you alone, you know? I won’t tell Toto.” 

Seungcheol just rolls his eyes and gestures to the couch again. “C’mon kid. As much as I hate him right now, he’s right. You might as well learn from this and you’re already here.”

Chan makes his way to the couch rather cautiously and sits as far away as possible from the man, who is scrolling through the footage from qualifying. Without even looking over at him, Seungcheol says, “you can sit closer. I’m not going to bite.”

Not wanting to make him mad, Chan scoots a few inches closer. When he looks over at the iPad again, Seungcheol’s fingers are hovering over a video. He hasn’t clicked on it yet. He just sits there and stares at it. When Chan looks a little closer, he can make out your car in the thumbnail. 

Seungcheol clears his throat, looking away for a second. And then he turns back to Chan and says, “is it…uh okay if we watch y/n’s lap first?”

The question kind of stuns him. He was expecting Seungcheol to avoid any reminder of you at all costs. Scared that his voice will betray him, he just nods.

Seungcheol clicks on the video and they watch. The video is on mute and there’s no commentary from either of them. Just silence. As the lap ends, he pauses the video and whispers, “that was a good lap.”

Chan is even more surprised now. He was expecting a frustrated sigh or any sort of mean comment. But he doesn’t get any of that. Now, Chan’s scared that it’s a setup. That he’s trying to get him to agree just to berate him for it. He doesn’t know what to say.

Seungcheol senses that he’s not going to say anything and takes it upon himself to start the conversation. “She’s always been good at Monaco. Even since the first time she drove the track.”

This has really piqued Chan’s interest. Since her first time? Seungcheol was there the first time she drove Monaco? That had to be what? F2?

And then it dawns on him. Jungwon said something about them being teammates in F2. Hoping that the information is public knowledge (it should be, practically their whole racing lives are on Wikipedia) Chan decides to ask about it. “Was that when you were teammates?” He cringes the second the words come out of his mouth. Jungwon owes him big time.

While Chan was expecting him to look angry, Seungcheol just looks at the iPad dejectedly. “Yeah. At Prema. Do you…know about that whole thing?” he asks the boy.

Jackpot. Seungcheol willingly talking about it? He’d never thought this would happen. Then Chan remembers he actually has to respond to him. “Uhm, no I don’t think so. Jungwon said you guys were more…amicable back then.”

“Jungwon’s your teammate at MP?” he asks Chan, who nods in response. Then, Seunghcheol throws a curveball at him. “You’re not attracted to him right?”

Chan sputters at the question. “What? What does this have to do with anything?” When he looks Seungcheol in the eyes he’s dead serious. So he humors him. “No, I’m not attracted to Jungwon. I’m not even gay.”

Seungcheol just nods. “Okay, good. I mean good that you’re not attracted to him. There’s nothing wrong with being gay.”

This is getting weirder by the second. Chan gives him a questioning look. Why the personal questions?

Exasperatedly, Seungcheol sighs and says, “I don’t want to tell you this if it’s too relatable. I don’t want to scare you and make you not pursue a relationship because of something that happened to me.”

Chan is finally starting to put the pieces together. Then the light bulb goes off and he shoots out of his seat. “You and y/n were together?” he practically shouts.

The older driver drags him back down to his seat and shoves a hand over his mouth. “Be quiet, would you?” Then he releases Chan and slumps back against the couch. “I wouldn’t call it together. We weren’t dating, we knew that F1 would ultimately cause heartbreak for the both of us. We were just messing around. But we were exclusive, I guess.”

Chan doesn’t say anything. He just nods and waits for him to continue. “It was stupid and we both knew it. Especially y/n. She knew that if we got caught, it would affect her career more than mine. Even if we both knew that she was a better driver than I was. This sport isn’t kind to women.”

Seungcheol looks like he might cry. It’s so different from the Seungcheol that Chan witnessed 15 minutes ago in the garage. He doesn’t know what to do. He frowns and lets the man finish his story. 

“Y/n was a part of the Red Bull Junior Team at the time. She had been promised an F1 seat within 3 years if she won the championship. I was in the Mercedes Academy at the time too. So we attended a lot of F1 events together. And I was stupid enough to drag her to makeout in a hidden corner of the paddock at one of them.”

He paused, like the next part of the story would pain him to say. “A member of the press caught us. We both knew we were so screwed. He could easily out us right that second or even use it to blackmail us. Luckily Angelo from Prema was there with us that weekend and helped us negotiate with the man. Turns out this press guy is a big fucking misogynist because the final deal was that he wouldn’t out us if he could tell Christian Horner about our relationship. Said he ‘didn’t want no bitches in Formula 1.’ Prick.”

“Christian kicked her out of the junior program when he found out. He’s also a misogynist. I’m glad she didn’t end up there. He told her that he prefers people who win championships through dedication, not those who sleep to the top. But instead of being mad at him or the press guy, she was mad at me. She told me that I ruined her career. That she would never get into Formula 1 because of me. So she never spoke to me again unless it was at work.”

Chan looks at him skeptically. “But her career turned out fine.”

Seungcheol just shrugs. “Exactly.”

Chan is even more confused now. Understandably, you were upset by this whole situation. But why is Seungcheol a dick to you now? “But the whole rivalry? You seem to have started the hostility in that. Not her.”

The man sighs. “Her career turned out fine, Chan. But she continued to be mad at me.”

It’s starting to click in his brain. “So you’re mad at her because she never forgave you?” Chan asks. 

All Seungcheol says is, “bingo.”

They’re interrupted by Jeonghan knocking on the door and letting the F1 driver know that he’s due in a few minutes for media duties. Seungcheol leaves Chan on his couch without another word. 

“You’re buying my drinks in Barcelona too,” Chan tells Jungwon the second he opens his hotel room door.

Jungwon gapes at him. “What? We only agreed to the afterparty,” he says as the boys walk further into the room, away from prying eyes and ears. 

“Yeah well that was if I got you any information. I got you the whole fucking story, dude.” Jungwon’s eyes are as wide as saucers and he immediately starts asking about it. Chan recounts Seungcheol’s monologue to the best of his abilities. 

“Holy shit, dude,” Jungwon says once he’s finished, flopping down on his bed. “It’s like the opposite of enemies to lovers.”

Chan rolls his eyes at his teammate. “It’s sad, Jungwon. Y/n lost her future job and Seungcheol at the same time. And now they can’t even be civil with each other because they’re holding grudges.”

Jungwon mulls over his words for a minute. “Maybe I’ll ask y/n about it when she’s drunk tomorrow.”

“How do you even know she’s going to be drunk tomorrow, Won?” Chan asks his teammate.

He turns to flash a cheshire grin at Chan before plainly stating, “she’s either going to podium and drink to celebrate, or she’s going to do bad and drink to mourn.”

Chan rolls his eyes once again. “Speaking of which, I’m going to bed. No matter how well I do tomorrow, you’re paying for my drinks.” He drags himself out of Jungwon’s room and down the hall to his own.

You and Oscar are sitting at a table in the far back of the club, away from the hustle and bustle of the rest of the afterparty. Mingyu from Ferrari, his trainer Jungkook, Mark from Red Bull, and Chenle from Aston Martin are also gathered around. You’re enjoying the light conversation, basking in the high of your win.

Mark catches your attention after a minute of you spacing out, pointing toward the closest bar. “Isn’t that your little shadow, y/n?” When you look over you see Jungwon conversing with a blonde kid around his age. 

“Yeah,” you muse. “Kind of recognize the kid he’s talking to too. Can’t put a finger on his name though.” 

“That’s his teammate from F2. Lee Chan I think,” Oscar pipes up from across the table. “The kid with the otter helmet.”

A collective “ohhh,” leaves everyone at the table. “I’m going to get another drink,” you tell them. “Might bring the kids back with me.”

Mingyu snickers at you as you leave. “You can’t adopt them all, y/n!” he shouts as you leave. You flip him off behind your back. 

Approaching the bar, you order another drink for yourself and saunter over to where Jungwon is standing. “Hi Wonie,” you say, catching him by surprise as you ruffle his hair a bit. You turn to acknowledge his teammate too. “Hi Chan.”

Chan points back at himself like he’s surprised you know his name. “Is your name not Chan? Oh fuck I’m too drunk for this.” you berate yourself out loud. 

“Uh no ma’am, my name is Chan. Just surprised you know me, that’s all.” he says. 

You giggle a little bit. “Don’t call me ma’am, it makes me feel old. You’re the kid with the otter helmet, right?”

“Yes ma’am,” he says, before correcting himself. “No, I mean, yes. Yes, I’m the kid with the otter helmet.” You can hear Jungwon cackling at his friend behind you. 

You smile at him again before turning back to Jungwon. “Well I’m heading back to sit with those four dumbasses,” you say, pointing back to your table where Jungkook and Mingyu are arguing over something on Mark’s phone. “You two wanna keep me company so I don’t have to deal with them by myself the entire night?”

Jungwon lights up at the question. “Of course!” he practically shouts, and drags a begrudging Chan by the arm to follow you.

When you reach the table, you pat the empty seat next to you, gesturing for Jungwon to sit. Chan grabs the chair next to Mingyu, who messes with his hair and murmurs something about, “the otter kid.”

Jungwon seizes his opportunity ten minutes later, when Mingyu and Oscar are engrossed in a conversation with Chan, Jungkook has gone to the bathroom, and Mark and Chenle are on a video call with Mark’s boyfriend.

“I’m surprised you’re okay with Chan being here,” he says to you as quietly as possible, while still trying to be louder than the music. 

Your eyebrows scrunch at the comment, clearly confused. “Why?” you ask him.

You follow his eyes as they search around the crowd. They land on Seungcheol. Still facing your rival, he says, “Chan is a Merc Junior. Seungcheol is his mentor.”

Letting your eyes wander back to Jungwon, you steel your face into something more serious. “Jungwon, just because Chan is being mentored by a driver I hate doesn’t change my opinion of him.”

“You really hate him?” Jungwon asks. “I understand you guys don’t like each other for whatever reason, but hate is a strong word, right?”

You sigh at him. “Hate is in fact a strong word Jungwon,” is all you say and you leave it at that.

After a minute of uncomfortable silence, he decides to push his luck again. “...Chan said you guys used to be really close. When you were in F2 like us.” 

“Yeah,” is all you say in response. The conversation is just barely hanging on by a thread.

“I don’t want me and Chan to end up like that.” It’s kind of a low blow, he thinks, especially when you’re a little drunk, but it works. You turn to him with sad eyes and reach out to rub his hand comfortingly. 

You whisper so lowly, Jungwon can barely hear it. “You won’t end up like us, Wonie. I promise.”

The near tears in your eyes have him getting emotional too. All signs are showing that Seungcheol’s story is likely true. One last test to find out. “Why not?” he asks.

The tears are getting closer to spilling over and you turn your head to blink them away. While you’re still facing away, you mumble, “your relationship isn’t like ours. At least I hope it’s not.”

Hook. Line. Sinker. Jungwon’s got it now. Seungcheol was definitely telling the truth. He feels a little guilty about prying it out of you like that, but you seem to have sobered up with the conversation. Oscar’s voice breaks both of you out of your little bubble. “Y/n, everyone is going to head back to the hotel soon. You ready?”

You nod vigorously at the man, probably to hide the fact that there are tears in your eyes. You hop off your chair, grabbing your bag and your phone. Then, you lean down to ruffle Jungwon’s hair a bit. “Goodnight Wonie. You and Chan be safe tonight please.”

After bidding everyone else goodbye in the lobby, you and Oscar take the elevator up to your floors. Oscar’s room is one floor beneath yours, so he says goodnight with a comforting hug and a congratulations on the win. As you ride the elevator up once more, you think back to your conversation with Jungwon. Next time you see Seungcheol, you need to tell him to keep his mouth shut.

The elevator doors open and you turn to head to your room. You see a familiar flash of blonde hair round the corner. What convenient timing. You pick up your pace and grab his sleeve, and he whips around with a deadly look in his eyes. It only slightly softens when he realizes it’s you. You shoot him an equally deadly look back. “You want to tell me why my mentee was asking me questions about our relationship?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” is all he says. You roll your eyes.

“Don’t play stupid Cheol. You know Jungwon and Chan are teammates. What did you tell Chan?” As much as he wants to hate you right now, his heart can’t help but skip a beat when you call him Cheol. It’s been so long since you’ve called him that. 

“I didn’t tell Chan anything. Why would I tell him about anything other than racing?” he counters back.

It’s not believable enough for you, so you push. “Jungwon said something about Chan knowing we were close in F2.” 

Seungcheol, tired and wanting to just go to bed, tries to pull his sleeve out of your grip, but you relent. “You can look that up on the Internet y/n. Would you please let me go to bed?”

“No Seungcheol. This concerns both of us. He was asking all the right questions. If you told Chan about us, there’s no guarantee he keeps it to himself. He clearly already told Jungwon.”

He finally frees his sleeve from your grasp. “Can we at least take this somewhere private?” he whispers. You nod and he pulls you down the hall. He’s taking you to his room, you realize and the thought makes you sick.

Once safely inside of his room, he turns back to you with a fire in his eyes. “You wouldn’t have to worry about any of this if you forgave me.” It’s not the words you were expecting to hear, but they also don’t surprise you. 

You try your best to compose yourself. “You ruined my career Seungcheol. Of course I never forgave you.”

He throws his hands up in exasperation. “I clearly did not ruin your career. Look at yourself right now. You’re getting paid more than me. You’re way ahead of me in the championship. Your career is perfectly fine.” This comment starts what is basically a slightly hushed screaming match. 

“I had to fight my way in and got lucky with McLaren. I had a guaranteed seat at RB and you know that.” 

“You know it’s for the best that you didn’t end up there.” 

“That doesn’t make it okay!”

“What was I supposed to do, y/n. I couldn’t have stopped that press guy, I couldn’t have stopped Christian from releasing you, I couldn’t have controlled any of this. But you were the one that stopped talking to me. Just because we cut things off doesn’t mean I had to deal with radio silence for the next year.”

You pause, thinking over what you’re about to tell him. “I had to.”

He crosses his arms and he straightens his posture. “Bullshit.”

“I had to because of the press guy,” you tell him, urgently. 

“We took care of him, y/n,” he deadpans at you. He’s getting uncomfortable with the conversation now. He can’t sit still. 

Tears well in your eyes at the thought of releasing your biggest secret to the man you once loved. “He’s your fucking superfan Seungcheol. He’s been following you since your karting days, like a creep. That’s why he found us in the paddock that day. He was following you. And when he saw us together he took it as an opportunity. He saw me as a threat to your career. He didn’t just get rid of my Red Bull seat. He threatened me for months after through phone calls and emails, saying that if he ever saw me talking to you, he would end my career for good this time.” 

The tears in your eyes have finally spilled. Seungcheol’s heart breaks, both at your words and at the sight of you crying. After a minute of gaping at the revelation, he steps forward and wraps his arms around you. He rests his chin on top of your head as he lets you sob into his chest. 

“He,” you stutter, “he told me that if I didn’t let you win the F2 championship, he would kill me. That’s why I crashed at Baku and didn’t podium the rest of the year.” You rest your head back against his chest and sob again, harder this time.

Seungcheol reaches up to slowly stroke the back of your head, trying to calm you down. “I’m sorry, y/n. I’m so, so sorry.”

He already knew everything was his fault, but this makes it so much worse. People were threatening to kill you because of him? Suddenly, it dawns on him. How much of an absolute dickhead he’s been. For years he’s been pretending to hate you, throwing mean comments at you, picking fights with you, all while you were trying to protect yourself. “Why did you play along?” he asks.

You don’t look up. Instead, you just let out a questioning hum into his chest.

“The rivalry,” he says. “Why did you play along with it if you didn’t really hate me?”

“It’s good for publicity” you joke. There’s the y/n he knows and loves. Loves. He hasn’t thought about you like that in a long time. Now that he knows the truth, he wants you back in his life so bad. But he knows he doesn’t deserve it. 

“Is the guy still threatening you? Is that why you played along?”

You shake your head. “No. I was trying to negotiate for a bodyguard in my McLaren rookie contract and Andrea asked why. I didn’t want to tell him, but I had to. It would’ve gotten out eventually I think, had Andrea not had him arrested.”

“But why y/n? I’m still trying to understand why you didn’t tell me this. Why did you make it seem like you hated me too?”

You finally look up at him again, brave enough to make eye contact once more. “I thought it was too late to tell you. I had already lied to you, ignored you. That’s not the best way to come back into someone’s life.”

“It was for your own safety. I would’ve understood that,” he tells you softly. Your eyes are bloodshot and the area underneath them is puffy. His heart aches. This is all because of him. 

You shake your head again. “I didn’t think like that at the time. And you had already brought the rivalry into the media. Of course I would be mad at you when you were talking shit about me to the press.”

It’s not a guilt trip on purpose, but it still hits him where it hurts. “Ok, y/n. I get it. I’m a dick.”

“That’s not what I’m trying to say,” you mumble, helplessly.

Silence overtakes you both. Despite the circumstances, it’s not an uncomfortable one. Just two people mulling over their thoughts. Eventually, he breaks it with a whisper of “I miss you.” 

You whisper back an “I miss you too.” It’s real and genuine. You don’t say it because you feel like you have to. You say it because you want to. You hope he can pick up on that. 

He does. His forehead comes to rest against yours as his hand strokes your cheek. His eyes flick to your lips and you hold your breath. As his lips find yours, you feel years of tension release. A stray tear runs down your face and he brushes it away with his thumb. He pulls away.

“Do you,” he breathes out, “do you want to try again?” All you can do is nod in response. 

[cinnajun]

ᵕ̈ ೫˚∗: zb1 as your boyfriend

a/n: these get progressively longer the more you go on and that’s my bad, i’m just insane over this group idk …

notes: long hair is implied in jiwoong’s, yujin is not included due to his age!, i did not proofread this so sorry for typos

wc | 3.5k

jiwoong

i think this would be so much fun in the like adult way … like doing taxes together and watching tv shows

dating jiwoong means SETTLING DOWN!!! this is for the long run for real

in all seriousness i think being jiwoong’s s/o means you will feel very secure at all times

he isn’t interested in anyone but you … like seriously

looks at you like you’re the only person on the planet when you’re out and about

if anyone hits on him, he shuts it down SO fast that you’ll barely have time to process what happened

in terms of love languages, i’d say his is probably acts of service in both giving and receiving

there’s no better way to show him that you love him than taking care of little chores around the house (especially the ones he usually does) or picking up some toothpaste when he’s running low

in the same way, he loves to do those things for you—he really appreciates the way you smile when you find out he did the dishes for you <;<3

overall, a very sweet relationship, and a very very long-term one

IT’S ALMOST LAUGHABLE how gentle Jiwoong is as he braids your hair, pulling each strand off your head with such precision and cautiousness that you’d think he was braiding strands of pure gold. Weddings were long events, and you’d noticed that, every time you went to one, you ended up with a million knots in your hair that you had to spend extra time brushing out after.

So, Jiwoong had the bright idea to braid your hair—and insisted he do it for you, so that you wouldn’t have to keep your arms raised for so long, or something. You just didn’t think he’d try this hard at it.

“You can go a little faster, you know,” you said, painting your eyelashes with mascara. “If you go any slower, we’ll be late to the ceremony.”

“We can just sit in the back,” he mumbled, continuing to put one strand over the other. “I need to make sure it’s well-done so it doesn’t just knot your hair even worse than leaving it down does.”

You sighed, a little smile appearing on your face. “Whatever makes you happy,” you sighed, continuing to put on your mascara. “Who am I to say no?”

zhang hao

i feel like the most prominent part of dating zhang hao is trying to figure out how you scored him LOL

i mean look at him … he's so perfect it’s almost painful

and he’s such a good boyfriend that literally all of your friends are so jealous … and he’s the only guy they haven’t called ugly so that’s a plus LOL

i will say though dating him has to mean you’re really comfortable with yourself because just about everyone shoots their shot with him

obviously he turns them down but he’s too nice to do it in a way where they’ll actually be scared off (cough jiwoong cough)

he’s very loving and very appreciative, and loves hearing about everything you do

tbh he just loves you

his love language is definitely physical touch, but in the like sweetest way possible

he holds your hand and swings it around when you’re out and about, he leans his head on your shoulder when you watch movies, he puts his head in your lap when you’re sitting on the couch…

and he always stares at you, which is super nerve-wracking, but he just loves you so much that he can’t help it

seriously has heart eyes for you

IT’S NOT ALWAYS that your mom calls, but you supposed today just had to be the day. As much as you love her, she tends to talk your ear off, which is something you’d rather not deal with at a random time in the middle of your day. Nevertheless, it was better to get it over with now rather than later.

Hao had been napping with his head on your lap when she called, and you’d hoped that would be a good excuse to hang up. Except, when you pleaded with your mom, telling her that Hao was sleeping and you didn’t want to wake him, she insisted that she needed to talk to you right then. So, for the past twenty minutes, you’d been listening to her talk about her knitting club while you ran your hand through his hair.

You’d also failed to notice that Hao had been awake since before she’d even called. Initially, he just wanted a few more seconds laying on you before you kicked him off (because your thighs were cramping and you needed to stretch), but he’d been pleasantly surprised when your attention was stolen by the phone call.

So, when you looked down and saw him staring at you oh-so-lovingly, you choked on air, causing your mom to frantically ask you what was wrong. All the while, he stared at you, wondering how he managed to find you (but shouldn’t you be asking that)?

hanbin

if you’re feeling unloved, just date hanbin and he will fix it right up for you

he is an endless pit of love and is just waiting to give it to someone (that someone happens to be you)

you’re like 90% sure he popped out of a cheesy romance novel and wandered straight to your door but i digress

everything about this guy is so pleasant that it’s almost nauseating

his mom, how clean his bedroom is, how much he happens to enjoy cooking, how much he loves all the things you suggest as date ideas, it’s so much that your friends are suspicious that he’s hiding something incredibly unforgivable

he’s not, though, he’s just like that

and he just happened to be truly, madly, deeply in love with you so congrats on that one!!!

hanbin’s love language is also physical touch (shocker)

he’s super clingy, especially when you go out together, and has to have a hand on you at all times (if you get separated it will literally ruin his day)

really loves to cuddle with you…for example, if you decide to take a nap without him, you will wake up wrapped in his impossible to escape koala hug

he also loves kisses. forehead kisses, cheek kisses, all kisses … he especially loves it when you kiss his tattoos

he gets super enamored with you when you give him the same energy back, so try that out, too

EVERY DAY, YOU GET HOME from work around the time Hanbin’s decided to start dinner, and, every day, you attempt the same little prank. Slowly, you enter your home, trying to stay as quiet as possible.

The sound of the nightly news fills your ears, and the smell of whatever Hanbin decided to make attacks your nose. As subtly as possible, you put your bag and keys down on a dresser you have in the entryway, removing your shoes and tiptoeing through the house as quietly as possible.

As usual, Hanbin’s back is facing the doorway, and he’s hunched over the stove, fiddling with whatever he’s making. You tip-toe run up to him, bumping into him and wrapping your arms around his waist. He giggles, as usual, and puts his hands on your arms.

“Hi,” you say into his back, which prompts him to turn around in your embrace, staring down at you with the most loving expression he could muster up.

And, placing a kiss on the crown of your head, he says, “I missed you.”

matthew

CUTE BOYFRIEND!!!

matthew is like so clueless in a relationship and he’s just kind of winging everything, which makes him about 70% funnier

you’ll be out shopping and he’ll pick something up, usually a trinket of sorts, look you dead in the eyes, and say, “is this something people get for their partners?”

if you say yes, it will magically appear in your bedroom like 4 days later and he’ll be oh-so proud of himself

your parents LOVE matthew, to the point where you begin to wonder if they like him more than they like you

it’s nice, though, because they’re more willing to help pay for your utility bill if they know matthew’s benefitting from it too LOL

he’s such a sweet boyfriend that sometimes you like need to stop and put your phone down

his love languages are words of affirmation on the receiving end and gift giving on the giving end

when you’re away from one another, he texts you selfies along with cute little summaries of what he’s doing and absolutely expects you to do the same

also sends good morning/good night texts if he can’t say it in person for whatever reason

also has some like tiktok-worthy beige flags (the comments say they’re all green flags)

like he asks you what your ring size is like once a month and then comes home with ring pops and goes “i had them custom made to fit your finger”

and you’re like “omg matthew i can’t believe you would do that for me!!!”

MATTHEW’S HANDS ARE poorly covering your eyes as he leads you to this mystery-location that he’d spent the entire day hyping up. He swore it was going to absolutely blow you away, and had even said that you’d be at a loss for words.

“We’re almost there,” he said, excitement dripping from his words. “Be careful, there’s a couple of steps here.”

You did your best to ascend without face planting, although it was a bit difficult given that Matthew was unknowingly rushing you due to his excitement. “Okay, are you ready?”

“As ready as I’ll ever be.”

In a flash, he removed his hands from your eyes, and it takes you a second to realize what you’re staring at. It’s a table cutely decorated for some sort of picnic, with string lights overhead and a candle burning on the table. You realize you’re in your parents backyard pretty quickly, but the thing that really has you confused is the teddy bear sitting on the edge. It looks exactly like the one you carried around as a kid, albeit much cleaner—but you’d lost it when you were 10.

“I tore apart your house looking for it,” Matthew said, putting his head on your shoulder. “Mr. Tumnus, right? Like the Narnia character? He was behind the couch. I got him cleaned, too. Do you like it?”

taerae

swoon

UGHHHH taerae is so perfect

like he’s totally the boy next door, locker neighbor, church boy type of boyfriend

he asked you out on valentine’s day with a bouquet of your favorite flowers and a box of like really pretty chocolate-covered strawberries and you’ve been whipped since

you’re both wrapped around each other’s fingers in the most severe way possible

you’re also definitely like a married couple, specifically a couple of grandparents who’ve been retired for like 30 years

you probably share a friend group, and everyone in the group considers you two the parents of the group (you’re the dad)

almost always, you have a third wheel, but that’s fine because you and taerae are good at making sure it’s not awkward (which is why people always want to come on your dates)

taerae’s love language is definitely quality time

more often than not you’re both doing something completely separate from one another and he doesn’t care, he just likes knowing that you’re around

i don’t see him being the touchiest person, even in a relationship, so spending time together is the only thing taerae needs to feel loved. if you never blow him off and spend all of your free time just sitting next to him, he’ll be entirely pleased forever and ever

SOMETIMES, YOU FORGET that Taerae is in the room with you, which tends to be more embarrassing than you’d have wanted it to be.

Once, early in your relationship, he’d come over and you’d been spending time in your room. Except, hours had passed without you saying a word to each other, and you’d forgotten he was even there in the first place. You were so engrossed in your latest craft project, attempting to crochet, that he’d blended into the scenery of your bedroom.

So, when you kept messing up on a particular stitch, you found it fit to stand up and absolutely scream at the top of your lungs. When you got done, you planned to sit down and keep doing, but you heard Taerae laugh nervously behind you, causing you to freeze up.

“Uh, what was that?”

You turned around, staring at him with what could only be described as horror written on your face. You stared at one another in complete silence for what felt like hours, although in reality it must’ve been no more than five or six seconds.

“I forgot you were here,” you finally choked out, feeling heat rush to your cheeks. Taerae just laughed, and it only made you feel more miserable.

“You’re adorable, you know?”

ricky

ricky is such a sweet boyfriend

even if he’s a bit awkward at times he’s so nice to be around

i think he just cares about you so much that he fluctuates in the same way that you do…if you’re happy, he’s happy, if you’re sad, he’s sad, etc…

at the same, he’s always completely panicked that he is not doing enough for you

he constantly checks in to make sure that you are getting what you need from him, and, while he wouldn’t say it aloud, he appreciates it when you do the same

he doesn’t like conflict so he pretty much does anything he can to get rid of the problem before it happens

as such, if he finds out anything upsetting, he will approach you about it instantaneously

i think ricky’s love language is gift giving, though, both on the receiving end and on the giving end

whether it’s an origami flower made out of a receipt you got or a pretty necklace you found while out and about with friends, ricky treasures it like it’s his child

almost every gift you’ve gotten him is displayed in his room somewhere, like he’s got a whole shelf dedicated to things that you gave him …

all of his gifts are incredibly well thought out too even if they’re last minute

he also tends to just give you anything that you express literally any interest in

you like the hat he’s wearing? okay it’s yours now

“no i mean that i like it on you!!”

he doesn’t care it’s yours now

THANKS TO A FAMILY VACATION, you hadn’t been able to see Ricky for a week, which had been the end of the world for both of you. So, the moment you got back home, you ditched the comfort of your room to head straight to his house.

The moment he opened his front door, you collapsed into his arms, taking in the scent of his cologne mixed with the smell of laundry detergent coming from his sweater. Then, you realized that the sweater he was wearing was new.

You leaned back to get a better look at it, taking it in. “I like it!” you exclaimed, smiling up at him. He tilted his head in confusion, staring back down at you.

“Like what?”

“The new sweater.”

Without even skipping a beat, Ricky tugged it over his head, causing your mouth to drop open a bit. “Wait, no—”

Before you could finish your sentence, he’d pulled it over your head, and was waiting for you to put your arms through the sleeves. He smiled, happy with his sudden attack. “I knew you would, so I got two.”

gyuvin

dating gyuvin is so much fun

you were probably friends before you started dating, so when you start dating, it’s like your friendship amped up 200% along with like some kissing and stuff LOL

he knows you inside and out, to the point where you wonder if he knows you better than you know you

he also definitely had a crush on you for a loooong time before he acted on it so he remembers little details you shared in passing from years in the past

as such he’s constantly taking you out on the most lovely dates you could possibly imagine

you mentioned you like hot chocolate two years ago on a friend group outing? well good news! gyuvin remembered and he’s taking you to a world-renowned cafe that’s specifically noted for its hot chocolate

you like barbie movies???? every single one is downloaded onto his computer. every one. and he knows which one is your favorite

i think gyuvin’s love languages are acts of service + quality time

he just likes doing things for you and he likes doing things with you too … he just likes you tbh

he’d be heartbroken if you ever said no to one of his meticulously planned out dates so make sure to never do that (his friends would also hate you instantly and being hated by sung hanbin AND park gunwook is terrifying so don’t do that)

strangely enough, when you reciprocate the energy and plan out intense dates based on little tiny information, he gets super flustered, so try it out if you can

THE FIRST THING that comes out of Gyuvin’s mouth when he comes into your living room is, “You remembered?”

You’re almost taken aback by the question, eyes widening the moment the words leave his mouth. He was asking you that? After he remembered every little detail about you, from your favorite episode of your favorite show to your favorite breed of dog?

“Of course I remembered that you like soccer. How could I forget that you like soccer?”

You’d set up a little mini-party for the both of you to watch the World Cup, equipped with snacks and a jersey for his favorite team. And, somehow, he was a blushing mess, as if he didn’t expect you to remember something so basic about him.

“I don’t know,” he mumbled, turning away from you as he turned beet red. “I just…I don’t know, I wasn’t expecting it.”

“Well, expect it more often,” you said, linking your arm with his, a bright smile on your face. “Cause I love you. And I love doing things for you.”

gunwook

yea gunwook is definitely your first love and you’re really hoping he’ll be the last

you probably had some sort of super dramatic lead-up to you actually getting into a relationship, so you’re also probably super attached to each other by the first day you’re calling him “boyfriend”

even though he’s young, gunwook feels a lot of responsibility for everything in his life, so being with you is essentially his wind-down time

as a result you have a lot of sleepovers, which include doing facemasks and going to bed at like 9pm because he’s so tired

and you just generally spend a lot of time together because you’re an oasis in the middle of the desert for him

gunwook feels really proud that he gets to have the title of “your boyfriend,” so be prepared for him to call himself that a lot

it makes him all giggly and happy, which makes you all giggly and happy, so you’re pretty much giggly and happy 24/7

gunwook’s love language is absolutely words of affirmation

he’s under a lot of pressure (student council vice president, class president, like good lord he is leading the people) so he just wants to hear that he’s doing well, especially from someone he cares so much about

even just telling him that he’s doing his best will make him melt in a pile of i-love-you putty

and he makes sure to do the same for you :)

IT’S NOT OFTEN THAT Gunwook breaks under the pressure, but when he does, it breaks your heart, too. It’s inevitable that he loses his balance sometimes, given the fact that he often takes on way more than he can handle, but you’re always there to pick up the pieces.

“You need to go to bed,” you say as warmly as possible, placing a hand on his shoulder. He continues to write a flurry of numbers onto his paper, trying to fulfill his plans of finishing all his weekend homework so he could spend the majority of it hanging out with you. “You can finish tomorrow morning, okay?”

Gunwook stops, finally, leaning back in his chair. He looks up at you, a frown on his face, and you can tell that he’s starting to unravel. You cup his face in your hands, looking down at him with the calmest smile you can muster.

“You did a good job, tonight. And calculus will be there for you in the morning, okay?”

“Okay, okay. I’ll stop.”

You smile, a feeling of triumph overtaking you. “Thank you very much!”

thank you for reading!

[leclerc-drives-in-circles]

Nails

pairing: Rafe x fem!Reader

Summary: you have a nail appointment and ask Rafe if he wants to go with.

A/n: random fucking idea

Enjoy this really fucking stupid story I randomly thought of <333

Dividers by @saradika

You knew you wanted to get your nails done but you didn't know what color to get. This debate started when you were invited to your friends wedding a week before your summer vacation started. Two completely different occasions, and considering you had less than a week until the wedding you had to choose fast. It didn't help that the wedding dress-code was 'minimalistic and old-fashioned' so you couldn't choose a super bold color.

You were annoyed at everything when your boyfriend Rafe walked in.

"Hey baby what're you doing?" He said whole plopping down on the bed in your shared room.

"Looking at subtle but summer-y colors for my nai-" you stopped yourself mid-sentence and just look at him with mischief in your eyes.

"Hmmm" He hummed contemplating whether or not to say anything about your face. He decided on the latter. "What does that face mean, gorgeous?" He said after a bit of complete silence.

"Wanna go with me and pick out the color?" You say eagerly knowing damn well he won't turn down a chance to hang out with his best girl.

"Yes. What time is the appointment?" He asks simply.

"The appointment starts at 2:00 buy we can get there a bit early so you can see all of the colors we'll. And if you want you can choose the style and design." You say in not-so-chill tone.

"I will choose a nice sage green for the color and maybe coffin shape and them little flowers for design." He says feigning excitement.

You stare at him, mouth agape, trying to figure out where he learned all of this knowledge.

"Baby, what's wrong?" He asks curiously.

"How did you know that? Also what color will the flowers be?" You ask incredibly confused.

"Mmm the flowers will be baby blue with little yellow middle thingys and Baby, I've been waiting for you to ask me for so long that I have learned all there is to know about nails. Also I have designs in my mind for every occasion so I'm REALLY prepared." He says as if you're not staring at him in pure disbelief.

"You blow my mind everyday with the amount of knowledge you can fit into that head with the size of that ego." You snap jokingly. Would he really believe it if you were serious?

"Wow, Baby, you're so nice to me." He says sarcastically while pulling you in for a sweet kiss, probably the sweetest kiss you've experienced with him.

"Okay, we have to leave in about...Forty-five minutes so be ready by then and I'll close out my pinterest and get dressed." You said pulling away from him reluctantly.

"Okay, Princess." He says giving you a quick peck on the cheek before walking to your closet and getting the two of you matching outfits in a beautiful muted orange color.

"Ooh, cute outfit, my love." You say happily grabbing it and walking to the bathroom that is attached to your room.

When you walked out you swear you can feel all of the air being sucked out of the room because of the incredible gasp you hear your adorable boyfriend take. "Beautiful, absolutely beautiful, have I told yiu today that I love you?" He says dumbfounded almost.

"I don't think you have. Do you love me?" You say trying to fuck with him.

"You have no clue how much I love you, Darling." He says quietly, almost silently.

》》——>>

At the nail salon you picked out the colors for your nails and sat down. You picked, as stated before, a sage green, a baby blue and a yellow that could be seen from a mile away.

The whole time the lady wah painting you nails Rafe wasn't even paying attention, he was staring at you as if you were the most beautiful woman to ever walk this earth. And to him you were.

He was lovesick and at this point him being utterly obsessed with you made Topper and Kelse annoyed constantly.

After you were done you walked out to his truck and he opened the door for you and you climbed into the comfortable seat whole Rafe scurried to the drivers side and climbed into the truck the exact same way as you.

"Lemme see, Baby." He says making grabbing hands toward your hands.

"Okay, okay. Be patient, Rafey." You mumbled whole basically throwing your hands at him.

"Oh my Goodness, Baby, they look amazing!" He cheered in excitement.

"It was all you, Handsome." You said reassuringly.

And you both lives happily ever after-ish

Thank you for reading this hope you enjoyed as much as I enjoyed writing it.

If there are any typos I'm so sorry I was writing this half asleep and reread it and was like "Okay then!" And now I'm posting it

Taglist: NOBODY YET BUT LMK

Also, sorry if it seemed rushed

[faerygrant]

Heya i didn't know how to make a request but would you maybe consider doing a carmy x reader situ where donna meets their baby/toddler Valentina for the first time after not knowing about the pregnancy etc super angsty but with fluff/comforting smut at the end w/carmy

sunday

summary: Sunday lunch with Carmy and Valentina goes south when a certain Berzatto makes an unwanted appearance. [reader meeting Donna for the first time: here]

Apprehension did not even come close to describing the feeling Carmen Berzatto felt when he’d found out he’d be a father in 9 months. 9 short months. He’d be responsible for a tiny human being, who he feared in some way he’d let down. He was fucked, from his childhood all the way into adulthood, he was fucked. Thanks to his mother and his father and in some way thanks to his brother.

He didn’t want to scare you, so he tried to play it cool when you’d first broke the news to him. But that afternoon when he’d kissed you goodbye and got to work, Carmen headed straight for the stockroom where he locked himself inside and cried. He didn’t care about you seeing him vulnerable, if anything you were the only person he was okay being vulnerable around, it was just that he didn’t want you to feel like you’d done anything wrong, that you’d inconvenienced him, because you hadn’t. He wanted this, in some way. I mean he’d been the one to constantly tell you he wanted you to have his babies, the one who pumped you full almost every other night, the one to whisper pleads asking you to be the mother of his children and his wish had finally come true.

So Carmen wiped his tears dry and decided he wasn’t going to repeat the same cycle that his parents had. He had you and you were going to be a great mother and that’s how he knew there was no way your kid would ever be fucked up like him. He had Pete as an example, hell even Richie and he was going to take a page out of their book to try and be the best dad to this kid.

-

If Carmen thought those nine months had flewn by, he wasn’t ready for the first year of Valentina’s life. She’s grown so fast that at times he almost couldn’t believe it. Hit so many milestones he wasn’t even aware babies could. Her first little smile that she gave the two of you after her bath time, the first time she picked up her head all on her own, the first time she said dada, which had literally left him a crying mess. Some nights were sleepless, some miserable but everyday that he got to hold his baby in his arms and see that gummy smile of hers, he knew it was worth it. Carmen couldn’t thank you enough for making him a dad and everyday that he couldn’t put another one in you drive him nuts, but he understood that you were still adjusting to motherhood. You’d been such a trooper and Carmen never failed to tell you how proud he was of you, and he meant it.

Today was a Sunday, meaning the restaurant was closed and Carmen had insisted to take the two of you out for a little lunch in the neighbourhood, a treat for you since you’d been cooped up at the house with Valentina all week. Valentina was sat in a little high chair, face round, her chubby cheeks covered in strawberry as her tiny fingers played with the fruit on her plate. Carmen watched in awe of his little girl before he’d turned his head to take a peek at you inside the restaurant. You’d gone to grab napkins for your messy toddler and Carmen couldn’t help but feel like the luckiest man ever. You were smiling at the female attendant as you stood there in your little sundress, hair tied in your usual mom ponytail with your signature pink ribbon. Just as he watched you make your way back outside he watched as a random woman had approached you.

The woman had held onto your hand but you were quick to pull your hand back and quickly shuffled out of the restaurant. Carmen was confused to say the least, as he couldn’t make out of who it was from behind. Just as you made your way to the table, Carmen could tell by your face that something was bothering you.

“Who was that?” He asked, watching as you took your seat and started to wipe the fruit residue from your daughter’s face.

“Carm I- it’s no one.” The hesitation in your voice was alarming him and his anxiety was already starting to creep up on him.

“What do you mean no one, tell me?” He insists.

“It was…”

“CARMY?!” Donna Berzatto’s off putting, grating voice sounds from behind you and the only thing you can see is the way your husbands face falls at the sight of his unruly mother. Her hair was shorter than normal, her usual eyeliner was smudged and he could tell by the look on her eyes that she’d been drinking.

“Ma, what the fuck are you doing here?” Carmen’s face completely drops, his face is tainted red and you can see his hands instinctively reach for your daughter’s tiny leg.

“I was just getting a drink what are you do-” Donna’s sentence isn’t complete when she notices the tiny baby sitting in the highchair. The baby that was half you and half her son. For better or for worse, her granddaughter.

“Wh- who is this Carmy?” She points towards Valentina who was now growing agitated in her chair at all the attention and commotion.

“Ma not right now okay, I’ll call you.” Carmen tries to cut off his mother, reaching for Valentina who was now crying due to the unruly stranger who had intruded on her lunch.

“Wha- is that my grand baby, you didn’t tell me you were having a baby- or had a baby?” You’re sat there in embarrassment, not wanting to even think about where this conversation was going, part of you was also annoyed that she’d ruined your lunch and startled your baby.

“And for good fuckin reason, you’ve made Val cry now, some grandmother you are.” Carmen seethes as he rocks Valentina in his arms, trying to calm her.

“No one loves me in this family, my own son hides my grand baby from me and you, you little whore, I always wished he’d married that nice girl Claire instead. You stole my son and then withhold my grand baby from me?”

“Donna, you’re making a scene right now, please stop this” you finally say but Carmen is passing Valentina to you and grabbing his mother away from the table. Onlookers from the restaurant all murmuring and whispering, the embarrassment killing you on the inside.

“This is the reason why you couldn’t know about her, you disrespect my wife everytime you’re given the chance to come around and then cause a fucking scene. You’re never going to be in my life, let alone my fucking kids life.”

“Carmy please, it’s your mother you’re talking to. I love you, it’s just her trying to turn you against me.”

“Enough already, it’s not her Ma it’s me. I don’t want you anywhere near me or my wife or my kid, because everything you touch you destroy and I won’t have you fuck up any other person that I love. What Mikey killing himself wasn’t enough? Destroying Nats self esteem not enough for you? Fucking me up for good? You wanna do it to another kid?” Donna’s eyes fall in realisation and before Carmen can get in another word she’s running from the restaurant.

-

“Vals down for the afternoon, knocked right out” You say softly, making your way to Carmen who was sat at the edge of your bed, hands in his head as his arms rested on his knees.

“S’good, think she’ll remember any of that?”

“Carm she’s only 1, she can’t even remember what she ate for lunch, no way she’ll remember that.” You rub his arm softly and he places his head into the crook of your neck, his curls tickling you.

“God, I just don’t want to fuck her up, I’d never forgive myself” he lifts his head to look you in the eye and you can’t help but pity him.

“Carmen there is no way you’d ever fuck her up, you’re such a good daddy, you’re literally Valentina’s whole world. She lights up at the sight of you, her first word was literally Dada.” He laughs at that, finally cracking a smile for you, those beautiful blue eyes gleaming.

“Thank you baby, you’re a good mommy.” He kisses your forehead, his big hands cradling your head.

[evafhernee]

fit getting constant BACK to BACK donos about fitpac… the voices in his head trying to get him to admit his feelings lmaoo

anyways here’s a text ver compilation of fitpac donos and his reactions just from today it’s super long but I’m sure I wasn’t even fast enough to write 50% of it

“so you would be okay if pac dated somebody else? if he was someone else’s roomate?” (forgot his reaction)

“how about a friendly bet when fit will admit pac is more than a roommate”

fit: WELL, you’re gonna be waiting a while… NOT THAT I FEEL A CERTAIN WAY ABOUT HIM-

fit: ya’ll are going crazy with these subs… “tragic love” are you shitting me??

“you went on a date with pac, but yeah yoga room is cool”

fit: (head in hands)

“all it takes is a single confession and we'll let you rest. Just walk up to him, and say, I love you. and it'll all be over”

fit: that sounds dangerous… if I walk up to anyone and say “i love you” they’re gonna call the police on me!

pac just showed up. no way he heard all that. chat is scattering lmao

(after pac left)

fit: THAT COULD HAVE BEEN BAD… NO PARTICULAR REASON OF COURSE.

“No need to cheat when you're in love :3 <3”

(forgot reaction)

“Fit your date left, you missed the opportunity :( dont hate me fit te quiero mucho don huevo <3”

fit: (head in hands) what do you mean DATE… my ROOMMATE!

(forgot the dono but it was something along the lines of “you need to confess eventually”)

fit: you just want it NOW NOW NOW. it’s just a couple of months!

“give him flowers at least for gods sake, he did it for you”

fit: I know you’re the voices in my head but… IM NOT LOOKING FOR ADVICE.

“leave the poor emotionally stunted man alone chat he can move at his own pace. arguably calling a man you don't live with your roommate is gayer than being boyfriends anyway”

fit: WHAT DO YOU MEAN “EMOTIONALLY STUNTED”?

“So sir… Are you assuming something about slowburn and your roommate? Hm… SUS”

fit: (head in hands)

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

A Cat in the Kitchen

Part 1 (ft. Riddle and Silver) I Part 2 (ft. Trey and Kalim) I Part 3 (ft. Jade and Lilia) I Part 4 (ft. Deuce and Jamil) I Part 5 (ft. Malleus and Ruggie) | Part 6 (ft. Cater and Rook) | Part 7 (ft. Sebek and Floyd) | Part 8 (ft. Ace and Idia) | Part 9 (ft. Leona and Epel) | Part 10 (ft. Jack and Vil)

In which Gordon Ramsay-kun is isekai’d into Twisted Wonderland. Part Food Wars, part Hell’s Kitchen, all Master Chef—Night Raven College isn’t ready to take on this Michelin Star celebrity!!

Ready for a short supplementary cooking class?🌟 A day in the life of Prefect Gordon and his familiar Grim, told in three parts: breakfast, lunch, and dinner. After all, food is tastier when it's shared with friends and family~

Imagine this…

Gordon Ramsay stirred before the rats and the ghosts of Ramshackle dorm did. He was up by 5 am most days, first exercising and then rustling around in the kitchen fighting the gas stove to light (and stay that way!) and taking inventory of the dwindling ingredients in the pantry. At 7 am, the delicious smells would start up, rousing his housemates from their slumber.

This was the magic of a human incapable of spellcasting or sorcery.

"Mm... You're up super early again," Grim muttered from the doorway as he rubbed at his eyes. He yawned, still struggling to shake off the last remnants of sleep that clung to him. "I dunno how you do it."

"Not so hard once you've got the hang of it," he grunted in response. Gordon wiped his hands off on a dish towel before sliding a plate toward Grim. "Eat up now, we don't have much time before classes start."

"I dunno, I'm not too hungry."

"You? Not hungry?" Gordon's brows raised. "That's new. You feeling under the weather?"

Grim leapt, looking as though he had been caught with his entire body stuffed into a cookie jar. "N-No, I'm not! Yup, there's my hunger comin' back to me!"

He hurriedly yoinked a tuna sandwich and chowed down.

"See?! Ah'm jus' fine," Grim insisted, cheeks stuffed.

"Hmm, alright." Gordon tucked into a small bowl of oatmeal--prepared with baked bananas, almond milk, and dried cranberries.

"You got class today too or what?"

"Yup. Ashengrotto and the smaller Shroud this time."

“Think they’ll drive ya mad like the rest of them did?”

“I’ll hold my tongue until I’ve seen how they are in the kitchen for myself.”

“Keh, you’re no fun.”

The beast’s ears flattened. The blue fire that burned so brightly seemed to dim. Something weighed on his mind—of that, Gordon was certain.

“That means you'll abandon me before lunchtime again..." Between chews, Grim complained, "How come I gotta be just a student and you get to be a teacher too? The great Grim-sama oughta be showin' these newbies a thing or two!"

"I only teach what I know. I'm still a student in some ways, learning new things about food every day." Gordon shrugged, giving his friend a rough ruffle on the head. "You can be a teacher when you've mastered everything there is to master--neither of us is quite there yet."

"Why can't it be? I wanna fast forward to the part where I become an archmage already!!"

"Don't be impatient about making progress. I’ve made hundreds of dumplings in a day and still came nowhere near the level of perfection of a dim sum master.“

“Tsk, that sucks. Didja at least get to eat the bad dumplings?”

“It was all I had that day. They weren’t fit to serve to customers.” Gordon shook his head. “My point is, you’ll get there one day. Nose to the grindstone, Grim. You've got to work hard to earn it."

He spooned up the remainder of his oatmeal, then deposited his dirty bowl and spoon in the sink. Gordon plucked up Grim, who still had a mouth full of tuna, and tucked him under one arm.

“M-Myah?!“

“Right then, let’s head out. Brisk morning jog to wake up the senses—it’s a brand new day!”

“Lemme finish my breakfast first, sheesh!!”

Three classes before lunch, and they all went about as well as Gordon had expected them to. (That was to say, not well at all.)

During first period Alchemy, Grim had earned the ire of Crewel by disregarding the potion recipe. In spite of Gordon's reminders and warnings, Grim had taken one too many missteps. The wrong ingredient, the incorrect amount, the temperature too low or too high, the stirring too much or not enough.

He was then caught catnapping during Magic History and extensively told off by both Trein and Lucius. (The meowing had gotten very intense.) Gordon had apologized profusely in Grim's place.

Flying had not fared any better--Grim struggled to concentrate, his unsteady magic causing his broom to wildly buck, attempting to chuck him off. Gordon had to stop his rep of 100 push-ups to fetch his friend out from a shrub. Twigs poked at him, leaves caught in his fur.

By the time they were dismissed back to the locker rooms, Grim had melted into a furry puddle on Gordon's shoulder. "Maaan, I'm beat!! That was rough!"

"Rougher than usual." Gordon crunched on an apple. He had taken to the habit of eating small platters or snacks throughout the day over whole meals—it was more efficient for his lifestyle. “Something you want to tell me, or…?”

“N-Nothing’s up!” Grim snapped. "Quit worryin' about me. It's the boss's job to do that for their minion."

The chef rolled his eyes as he set Grim down on the floor beside him. He handed off a boxed lunch wrapped in a checkered cloth. "I'm off to teach. You'll be fine on your own, right? Find Trappola and Spade, settle down with your food, and don't cause trouble."

"I got it already!" Grim huffed. "Catch ya after...?"

"Always." His smile was strained, a bit tired but true. "Maybe I'll bring back some disastrous stories to share with you over dinner."

One last pat on the head, and then he was gone. Hustling down the hall, the white of his pristine chef’s jacket vanishing behind a corner.

Grim managed the rest of the hike to the cafeteria, balancing his lunch in his paws. He squeezed past the legs of various mob students, emerging safely on the other side. They rushed to line up for trays of food.

Suckers, Grim thought, paying in cash for food. Luckily for me, I’ve got something way better than whatever they’re serving.

“Oiiii, Grim! Over here!!” someone called to him. He looked—and there they were, the duo of troublemakers, marked by a heart and a spade upon their faces.

“Ace! Deuce!”

He scampered over to the two Heartslabyul freshmen. They had already secured their lunches, as well as an open seat for him.

“Hard night? Looks like you didn't get much sleep," Deuce commented. A fluffy omelet wobbled atop a mountain of ketchup fried rice on his plate.

“He's right, you really do look awful," Ace added cheerily--blunt as ever. He had opted for a slice of some savory pie, vegetables and meat oozing out from a buttery crust.

"Sh-Shuddap! The great Grim-sama was up all night cookin' up something big!" He slammed a paw down on the table. "Just look at your sorry lunches. They can't compare to what I have!"

"Did Prefect make your meal again? You should try to not trouble him too much.”

"’S not like I tell’m to! He does it on his own!” Grim snickered to himself. "He takes all these cheap ingredients and throws'm together to make these tasty dishes."

"Well, don't keep us waiting in suspense," Ace groaned. "Show us what you have already."

“Let’s see, let’s see!”

Grim undid the fabric knot that held his lunch in a swathe. The checkered pattern peeled back and the lid, once removed, yielded a creamy, cheesy bed of tuna bake.

Gordon had taken his beloved canned tuna and fried it down into flakes. It was then combined with a special mixture of seasonings, pasta shells, melted cheeses, onions and broccoli, and topped with bread crumbs. After a generous bake in their ancient oven, the dish had come out golden brown and bubbling.

“Whoooa, smells delish!!” all three of them drooled.

“Lucky bastard,” Ace muttered. He quickly put on a cheeky grin, his spoon prepared. “Ne, ne~ Lemme try some, Grim!“

“D-Don’t be cheeky, Ace! You can’t demand to mooch off of someone else’s lunch,” Deuce scolded his peer. “… Even if it does look really good.”

“Paws off!!” Grim shielded the box with his body. “My minion made this for me and me only!”

“Tch.” Ace’s expression dropped. “You get to eat like a king for free while the rest of us have to shell out and make do with whatever’s on the school’s menu.”

“It’s not that bad,” Deuce pointed out. “It’d be nice to be able to eat for free but I’m happy with the quality of food we get for the price.”

“This comin’ from the guy who was running low on pocket money for a snack the other day?” he smirked.

“H-Hey, I need to budget, okay?!”

While the duo bickered, Grim had started to shove his face into the box (silverware was too difficult to maneuver) and wolf down his meal. Cheese sauce painted his fur, bits of broccoli and tuna dotting his jaw.

It was heaven—or as close to heaven as he could get on the earth.

He licked his lips appreciatively, mopping up what was left on his face. Not even a little could go to waste. Grim was determined.

As he went back in for another mouthful, he felt a phantom hand cascade across his head, his back. Advice from that morning filled his mind.

“You’ll get there one day. Nose to the grindstone, Grim. You've got to work hard to earn it."

He shut his eyes, making a silent vow.

I’ll definitely… definitely pay ya back for all the hard work you’ve been puttin’ in too, partner.

Gordon bid farewell to the ghost chefs on his way out of the kitchen. The day’s leftovers and unused ingredients overflowed from his arms—a perk of the teaching gig, which helped to feed him and his feline roommate. He mentally parsed through what was available, dreaming up new dishes for the days to come.

There was a nice chunk of fresh tuna (Grim would love it) in his brown paper bag. Perhaps he’d sear it with a sesame crust, then drizzle the seafood in a yuzu-lime dressing to brighten it. He’s plate it with a microgreens salad. Chives, arugula, celery, radish, and ruby sorrel to encourage Grim to eat a variety of vegetables.

He made his way out of the school building and down the long, winding path to Ramshackle dorm. The sun was still out, warming the worn Prefect.

On the front porch, he rustled around in his pants for the keys. When he finally fished it out and inserted the teeth into the lock, Gordon swore he heard a series of suppressed giggles from beyond the door.

Odd.

The door swung open, and he was immediately accosted.

"Welcome baaack," the Ramshackle Ghosts chirped. One ushered him in from behind, another too his groceries off of his hands, and a third tugged him along by the arm.

"Come this way! Grimmy's got a treat for ya!"

"He's been working hard on it the second he got back from his last class."

"Oooh, you're gonna LOVE it!"

"What about dinner?" Gordon protested, watching his beloved ingredients sail off.

He was thrusted into their dingy kitchen--which doubled as the dining room, thanks to the table and chairs set up in one cobwebbed corner. The same old Ramshackle he woke up to every day. Rusty knobs and hinges, chipped cupboards, electricity and running water that blinked in and out.

But there, set on a table with uneven legs and splintered wood, was something extraordinary.

It was a stout cake, iced in light blue with a layer of dripping white and several lit candles stuck into the top. Black frosting formed the vague shape of a fish, TUNA piped over it in white. A single lollipop--pale blue, and in the shape of a paw--casually rested against the cake, as if it had been tossed on top for an extra flair.

A furry mass tackled and hugged Gordon's leg.

"Grim?!"

He was suited up in his own little chef's uniform. It was deep gray, verging on black, his apron tied with a striped-purple ribbon. A tiny toque--a chef's hat-- sat between his ears, a bandage over the bridge of his nose. A smear of white icing decorated his left cheek, and he carried with him a telltale piping bag squeezed thin.

Gordon blinked. "You did this?"

"Nyahahah! Were you surprised?"

"You told me you couldn't cook to save your life."

"He can't," a ghost piped up as he deposited the groceries onto a counter. "He's worse than I was when I was alive!"

"That's why Grimmy's been getting up in the dead of night lately. Been, what? Gotta be a few weeks now."

"He's been practicing his baking and then cleaning up the traces of his crime before you get up."

"What..."

"I wanted to pay ya back, yanno! For all the cookin' and cleanin' and whatever," Grim mumbled shyly, kicking at the ground. "So I figured I'd treat ya for once! I was thinking of a sticky toffee pudding at first since that's your favorite, but... it gets so sticky, it was hard to work with!"

He patted his stomach. "I couldn't put my stuff in the trash can or else you'd notice, so I had to eat up all my mistakes too! It was a lotta effort and way harder than it looked, so you'd better be grateful!!”

Grim looked away, rubbing at his bandage.

“… It helped me better understand and appreciate all the things you do on the daily.”

It clicked.

Everything suddenly made sense. Grim's tiredness, lack of focus, decreased appetite, defensiveness—it was all for this very moment.

"... I see." Gordon bent down, a smile taking shape on his mouth. A steady kindling in his chest. “This is your way of saying ‘thank you’.”

“M-Maybe! An archmage has gotta take good care of his minion,” Grim muttered.

The prefect laughed softly. “And you’re doing a great job at it. Hang tight, I'll get the stove going and whip us up some seared tuna to go with the cake."

“Myah?! Y-You’ve got tuna? Like, the real stuff?!” Grim’s eyes were wide and sparkling. A line of drool ran down his chin. "Fancy tuna...!!"

"Yeah. We can plate some for the ghosts too--so they can join us for a meal in spirit." Gordon nodded at their other roommates. Their pale faces brightened with excitement.

"Can we really?"

"It's been so long since I was last invited to a celebration like this!!"

"Oh, but we can't eat... Ghosts don't have digestive systems. The tune would pass right through us."

"... Grim, you have eat their shares. More importantly, it's being together for the occasion that matters, right?"

"Whoo-hoo!! You're the best minion an archmage could ask for!!" Grim cheered, leaping into the air, furry fist pumping.

“Let's get this dinner party started…!”

[2knightt]

if you havent already, request for the outsiders boys with a super sweet sunshine s/o?

↳i love you, so let me get to you!₊˚✧

──IN WHICH, the gang dates a happy go-lucky reader!。✦

||✰ — the gang, separately

Johnny Cade ;

your kindness probably frightened him at first, he wasn’t used to anyone as nice as you.

but when he gets to know you are—he can’t get enough.

your happiness probably rubs off on him.

johnny’s smiling more, opening doors for people, and has a little spring in his step.

the gang definitely knows about you and teases johnny about it.

“you gotta stop hangin’ ‘round y/n. you’re starting to get their smile.”

“yeah, johnnycakes. i swear—i ain’t never seen you this happy.”

“get used to it, i dunno.”

you refuse to see the bad in people, and honestly johnny kinda likes that mindset.

but he doesn’t at the same time.

he knows people in the world suck, he knows how cruel it can be—but with you by his side, you make it bearable.

you make him feel actual hope that he can get out of this place.

make him feel like he has a future.

“thank you.”

“for what?”

“..everything, y/n.”

Dallas Winston ;

opposites attract dare i say?

i can see you calming dallas down, just a bit though.

not too much. just a lot.

he stops beating up people for no reason, yelling so much, and even helps a few old ladies cross the street.

only when people aren’t look though. this is still dallas.

“jus’ get outta ‘ere, punk!”

“aw, dallas! you let ‘em go! ‘m so proud.”

“whatever.”

he mumbles, snaking an arm around your waist with his other hand stuffed in his pocket.

the gang was so fucking shocked when they found out you two were dating.

“…for real?”

“you ain’t pulling our legs, are ya?”

“no? what the hell would make you guys think that?”

“they’re sweet while you’re—you.”

“fuck’s that ‘posed mean?”

“nothing.”

i feel like a lot of people would judge you for being so happy, especially with the situation with soc’s and greasers.

but dally shuts them up real fast.

“they gotta be on drugs. no way someone can be that happ—“

“who? who’s on drugs? c’mon, you can tell me.”

“uh—no one, dallas.”

“you sure?”

“yeah.”

punches them anyways.

but i don’t want you to scroll with a bad taste in your mouth.

just know, you’re the only relationship dally has been serious about in a long time.

a very, long time. so—he loves you to death.

Ponyboy Curtis ;

admired you somewhat.

he loves the aura that surrounds you. he thinks it’s different—way different than what he’s used too.

he’s used to people beating others, spitting on people, mocking, teasing.

but you?

you go out of your way to help those who were pushed down, bullied, spit on.

he admired that. he admired you.

he loved that about you.

tries to pick up your habits—but ends up failing.

“pony, when’d you become so…happy go-lucky, huh?”

“is it bothering you?”

“a little.”

“…fuck you too then.”

i feel like he’d look for a partner like that.

his type??? possibly???

you just,

give him hope.

hope that he can leave tusla and live the life he wanted on the country side.

Sodapop Curtis ;

same thing, different font.

you two get along so well it’s sickening.

when the two of you walk in a room together you blind everyone with how bright the both of you are.

im not joking.

“did he really, soda?”

“yeah! can you believ—“

“JESUS CHRIST!”

“what?”

“get out.”

“WHY?!”

“what?!”

“y’all are ruining my bad mood. screw off.”

“is he always like this?”

“yeah. just ignore two-bit.”

takes after you a lot.

like a lot.

started fighting less, helping out more costumers at the DX, etc.

he loves talking about you.

he just

does.

you’re all he talks about. i’d know, cause i’m literally writing this rn.

Darry Curtis ;

THIS DYNAMIC IS SO CUTE OH MY GOD.

cold, closed off darry with a cute, kind and sweet reader.

i’m crying just thinking about it.

you force him to open him to others.

literally.

“how’s your day, darry?”

“okay.”

“just okay? didn’t something happen at work today?”

“well yeah.”

“then tell, em! he’s your brother, babe.”

people always chuckle, seeing you cling to his arm—all smiles while he sits, looking like a guard dog.

but as soon as darry glares at them—they stop laughing.

everyone calls you sunshine after darry mockingly called you that. sorry i don’t make the rules :/ (yes i do.)

“hey, sunshine!”

“oh—hey, dal!”

“don’t call them that.”

“why not, superman?”

“because.”

Steve Randle ;

Guard dog 2.0

you gotta hold him back all the time help.

“steve! you know violence isn’t good—i hate it!”

“LEMME AT ‘EM, BABE! C’MON!!”

isn’t also—not used to people being so nice to him.

so you being so affectionate, looking out for him, loving him—just being so nice to him in general is so..shocking.

“you did so good today, love. ‘m so proud.”

“what?”

“oh? did you not hear me?”

“no—i did. it was just, outta nowhere. kinda spooked me a lil.”

please just love him.

please. he needs it.

he needs someone like you in his life and he’s so glad you are in his life.

he would’ve lost his mind a long time ago if you weren’t.

Two-bit Matthews ;

YALL ARE SO CUTE.

silly goofy guy with a sweet loving partner.

you let him ramble about anything and everything. he couldn’t be more happy.

“and they dance, like all the time!”

“even the dog?”

“EVEN THE DOG! he got his own moves, y/n!”

brags about dating the kindest person in Tulsa 24/7.

like, actually.

if you don’t like his drinking cause you know it’s slowly killing him, he’ll slow down on it.

“two, you know i don’t like you drinkin’ this stuff!”

“i know. but it’ll be my last one tonight, promise.”

“better be, ‘m worried for you.”

you’re like all he talks about.

he’s just so blessed to have an angel in his life!

like, what’d a guy like him do to get a person like you? save a country?

[a-998h]

Hotel Day 1

It has been a week since I showed up, bleeding, on the doorstep of the hotel. It's been nice. Charlie is super friendly, if a little hig energy, and so has Vaggie. Niffy freaks me out, but Charlie says she's 80% harmless. Alastor still creeps the fuck outta me, but I'm not sure he can be anything other than creepy.

Waking up, I see a post it on the bedside table. The note was clearly written with a glitter ink pen. Next to the note is also a plate of food and a glass of somekind of juice. Rubbing the last bit of sleep from my eyes, I read the note.

Good morning, Y/N! I figured you'd want to sleep in, so I had Niffty leave your breakfast on the bedside table. It's chocolate chip pancakes! Anyway, once you're awake and ready, you can meet us downstairs for today's activities! See you soon, Charlie 💙 Ps. Husk has juice for you at the bar.

Well... How the fuck did Niffty get through a locked door? I stare at the delicious looking pancakes, Niffty is a creepy woman and I have no idea what she might have done to my food. After about 15 minutes of checking my food for any sign of tampering I decide to suck it up and eat. The pancakes are as delicious as they looked. I smell the jucie too, because even if the pancakes were fine, who knows what Niffty could've done to it. It smells fine, looks fresh, and there is no weird coloring. Drinking it, it tastes like normal cherry juice. When I'm done, I collect the plate, glass, and utensils. Walking down the stairs, I see Vaggie and Charlie looking at the TV with Alastor standing next to it. Angel is on the other couch holding a bottle of alcohol and Husk is still behind the bar. Niffty rushes out from behind the bar and takes my dishes. It was confusing seeing how fast someone so small could be.

Charlie waves me over, saying she has something she wants me to see. I look for a chair, but Charlie pulls me onto the couch between her and Vaggie. Being squshed between the two of them freaks me out, I hate having my personal space invaded and invading someone elses space. The next minute is spent watching something that looks like a lose approximation of a commercial. It makes me want to die on the inside, it looks stupid. Alastor asks us what we think.

"I'm sorry, what the fuck was that?" Vaggie yells.

Vaggie tells Alastor why his "commercial" is bad and how it doesn't explian that the how tell is trying to save people from extermination, whatever that means. Angel raised his hand, saying they could use him in the commercial as he's celebrity. Vaggie argues with Angel about him being a pornstar. As they argue, I start to ferl very uncomfortable. Charlie rejects Angel's offer, and Angel starts listing everything he can do. Walking over to the bar, I hang out with Husk.

"So... What's extermination?" I ask.

Husk's POV

Damn it kid, why did you have to ask me that. I look at Vaggie, she gives me a death glare. Taking a deep breath, I tell the kid to not worry about it. I normally tell it how it is, but this kid is innocent. This kid would be traumatized if I told them what extermination was, plus I don't think Charlie and Vaggie would be to happy with me if I told the kid.

"Ummm, you don't need to worry about it kid. But, maybe ask Vaggie," I tell them.

The kid seems disappointed, but this is what's best for them. Before the kid can stand up, Charlie comes by singing.

*One song later*

Reader's POV

Vaggie says that Charlie is doing something important, so we'll be making a new commercial. She asks Alastor for a camera, to which he makes her an old fashioned camera. Vaggie clarifies she needs a video camera, to which he hums in either annoyance or because he's being a teasing jerk. I watch from the side lines as Vaggie tries to flim Husk and Angel's part. I want to die on the inside with the way Angel is acting. Vaggie tells Angel to be less horny, I don't think it's possible, and for Husk to not have a script in front of his face. Husk says something about no being an actor and Angel flirtly teases him, to which Husk pushes Angel off the bar.

"Alright Reader, all you have to do is list some of the fun activites we do here," Vaggie tells me.

I nod, and Vaggie starts fliming. I start listing activies, but I start to panic and ramble. Vaggie turns the camera off, and asks if I'm ok. Nodding, I run back to the bar and have Husk pour me some juice. Vaggie moves onto the fliming Niffty, who doesn't even say her lines, only staring into the camera. Angel teases Vaggie, which makes her mad. She says she'll fix it in post before storming off. I ask Husk about how Hell works, and he gives me vauge answers. Asking Angel and Niffty leads me to learning a few things. Sinners can own other sinners souls, the extermination happens every year, and as long as I stay inside during extermination then I'll be safe.

I blink surprise. I stare into my glass of juice, scared and confused. I don't want my soul taken, and this extermination thing is yearly! I always figured that Hell was burtal, but this is a lot worse than I thought. Time passes, and I start to feel more and more scared. Niffty tries her best to comfort me, but it's Niffty so she makes me panic a bit more. Vaggie soon walks out with Alastor, saying he'll be helping us make a proper commercial. Alastor snaps his fingers and everyone else gets cool 1920s themed outfits while my clothes stay the same.

"Alastor, why are my clothes still the same?"

"My dear, you're not going to be in it," Alastor explains in a condesening manner.

I was upset and angry at being condesended. I ask him why I can't be in it and he says something about not wanting the commercial to full of people. I sit on the couch, watching as this shadow flim crew takes care of doing the commercial.

*One Commercial fliming later*

Once the commercial is flimed, Alastor leaves the hotel, saying he'll get this commercial aired. I wave goodbye, still disappointed. Vaggie asks what's wrong and I share my anger at not being allowed in the commercial and the condesending way Alastor spoke to me. Vaggie reassures me that Alastor is a just a bit of jerk and that, she is worried about having a child in the commercial. I point out how Niffty looks young, and Alastor reminds me that many sinners know who Niffty is and her connection to him. Vaggie tells me it's ok, and that she'll find another way for me to be involved in the hotel.

Charlie comes back, looking a bit worried. Vaggie greets her and leads her to the couch in front of the TV. I sit next to Angel as Charlie smiles and almost tears up at the fact that the group made a new commercial for the Hotel. The commercial barely starts before it's interrupted. We all growl and complain about it. The lady with souless red eyes and blonde hair on the screen says that the news station had just been told by the Heaven embassy, which was the base of the hourglass clocktower, that the extermination would be happening sooner. The screen shows the clocktower calender showing 176 days. This causes all of us to start freaking out.

Narrator's POV

The angel's ship scans the headless body of an exterminator angel. Inside, Lute gets angry as she tells Adam they should go down there right now and wipe every sinner off the face of existance. Adam tells her to calm down.

"We can't risk them catching on. But don't worry, when we com back there won't a demon left alive to pull a stunt like this again! And, the nephilim kid will be back where they belong!" Adam declares, smash the lamp in the ship.