#but also i've been soooo sleepy

[lilybarthes]

***

[barkingangelbaby]

so so sleepy today even tho we went to bed at 10:30 :(( what the heck man

[alltimefail-sims]

I have been woefully unmotivated and unfocused lately so please excuse the lack of consistent sims content on here. I know getting seasonal depression symptoms in the summer sounds kinda crazy... but that's what we're working with.

Just know I really am doing my best to work through this weird burnout!!! Best I can do tonight though is give you guys a picture that I saw on Twitter with a silly caption.

[nicka-nell]

omg ur taking requests!

can you do some angst to fluff with Atsumu, Iwaizumi, Suna, Kuroo, Ushijima, and Sakusa (I’m sorry if they’re too many you can choose whoever you want to write about from these characters, I luv all of them soooo much)

Can you make it like really really Angsty in the start. Like the characters doing something they’ll regret a lot and then they spend a lot of efforts making up for it? Please make it fluffy in the end, I can’t handle sad endings 😭

Also please don’t include anything with infidelity or mentions of it. My boyfriend of 3 years cheated on me last month and I’m having such a hard time.

Thank you for considering my request. And there’s no pressure to accept, I don’t mind at all.

Hi! yes I am taking requests right now. 😇 First of all, I'm so sorry that you had such a negative experience. But tbh, you're better off this way. Nobody needs such an ass cheating on them! 😔😤 My ex did that too, with my ex-best friend btw. I also had a hard time but quickly felt better because I realised that it's a waste of time to cry over such a dick. I hope you don't lose hope in a healthy relationship based on trust. There really are good people out there and I hope you find someone who can appreciate you. Sending you a lot of hugs and kisses. 🤗💚❤️‍🩹

And for your request. I've written three stories for Tsumu, Iwa and Suna. Unfortunately they got a bit tooo long for my taste, so I only made these 3. I hope that's okay. I really had problems making it super angsty (urg, I need more practice for angsty stuff 😵‍💫). As you wished, I didn't include anything with cheating (even though I had a few ideas haha.) and I also added a trigger warning before each story. I think Iwa's and Suna's in particular might be a bit darker... so you can decide on your own if you want to continue reading it or not. Anyway, I hope you still like it, and thanks for your request. Stay healthy! 🥰💚

Regretting their actions

Pairing: Atsumu x, Iwaizumi x, Suna x reader

Warning: angst to fluff, break-up (Atsumu, Suna), mention of abuse/anger issues, mention of blood (Iwaizumi), mention of abortion, mention of drugs/pills (Suna)

Part 1 | Part 2 (End)

tw: mention of break-up

You met Atsumu when he came to his brother’s onigiri store for the housewarming.

The two of you got along well quickly. And it wasn’t long before he kissed you at a party, looked at you with his cheeky grin and said, “Tastes better than a victory.”

More things happened that night. Not just simple kisses and when you woke up next to him in bed, he asked you, still sleepy: “You’re my girlfriend now, aren’t you?”

You’ve been together for several years now and were thinking about moving in together soon when Atsumu’s career suddenly took off. He was traveling abroad more often and had less time for you or looking for an apartment.

And then it happened…

You scroll through the apartment search app for something suitable for the two of you, lying on the bed while missing him terribly. You close the app to go to your messenger, only to realize that you were the one who last texted Atsumu... two days ago… Two blue check marks indicate that he has read your messages but has not replied. Your fingers hover over the keypad of your phone and you think about writing to him. Maybe he read your message during training and didn’t have time to reply. Maybe he just forgot about it afterwards... maybe...

“Hey Tsumu... I know you’re busy but, I hope you’re doing well. Love you.” you type into your phone and send the message with a strange feeling in your stomach. It doesn’t take long before you see under his name that he is online. The gray check marks next to your message turn blue, but instead of replying, you see that he went offline again. You swallow a big lump down your throat, your heart feels heavy. Maybe he can’t answer you right now... you try to convince yourself again.

Several hours pass as you sink your head into your pillow and try to stifle your tears. Atsumu’s sports t-shirt is in your arms, which he had given you before his trip abroad. Time passes and suddenly you hear the ringtone of your phone as a message arrives. Your heart hits loud against your chest as you reach for your phone and see your boyfriend’s name. But your joy quickly disappears, the lump in your throat gets bigger and you can’t breathe. 

>> Hey... listen, I think it’s better if we end the relationship… break up. I don’t know, but I just don’t have time for it. I’ll see you around. <<

It feels like a slap in the face. As if this is a poor joke. You want to write to him, ask him what this is all about, but your tears blur your vision. The only thing you send is a “really?” but the message is no longer read. It remains on one gray check mark.

Two days go by and you still think it was all a bad joke, but every time you read his message, you feel like throwing up. Has he really dumped the whole relationship? By a shitty text message? You open your Instagram account and enter his name almost as if on autopilot.

Another slap in the face as your tears run down your cheeks again. His bio no longer says “Best setter and proud boyfriend” but simply “Setter MSBY Black Jackal”. All the pictures he had with you on his account have been deleted. Instead, you can only see advertising photos or private photos of him. The last eight pictures are of him, Hinata and Bokuto dancing and having fun with fans in different bars. Atsumu grins at the camera as if he doesn’t care about you at all. As if your relationship meant nothing to him.

You text him some more times, leave him voicemails because he never answers your calls. But after a few days, you let it go. It only frustrates you even more to see how little this relationship actually meant to him. For days, you cry yourself to sleep, what doesn’t go unnoticed by Osamu. After all, he sees you three times a week when you help him out in his store. When you tell him what has happened, he is also speechless, because Atsumu has really pissed him off with all his raving about you. So why would he break-up with you out of the blue? Osamu can’t see you as devastated as a heap of misery. So he also tries to find out the reason for the break-up between you and his silly brother. But when he calls him, Atsumu only faces him coldly on the phone. “Did she tell you to ask me? Leave it okay? I think I just realized that I don’t want a relationship.”

Two months go by and somehow you still can’t believe that your relationship just fell apart. Osamu tries to distract you somehow, but it doesn’t help because he reminds you too much of your idiot ex-boyfriend.

Nevertheless, you are grateful to Osamu for swapping your shift with his coworker’s shift so that you can open the store with him in the morning. That way, you avoid running into Atsumu, who is more likely to be in the restaurant in the evening as soon as he returns from his stay abroad. You’re not ready to face him at the moment.

Just as you’re about to finish work, you remember that you wanted to show Osamu a video on your phone. “Look, the new trailer for the second season of this soccer series is out. Shall we watch the first episode together on Saturday after work?” you ask Osamu as he approaches you and looks over your shoulder. He rests his hand on the counter next to you, his chest almost touching your back, but he keeps his distance from you respectfully. You are both focused on the trailer, not hearing the doorbell from the store.

Atsumu is tired. The flight was delayed, and he hasn’t been able to sleep properly for weeks. How could he sleep well with all the partying and Hinata as his roommate, who spent the night in the hotel calling his friends from Karasuno. At least that’s what he tells himself… that this is the reason for his sleepless nights. But this thought vanishes when he steps into his brother’s store hungry, actually only wanting to eat a few onigiris and then go home. Into his apartment. His empty, dreary apartment. But as he walks through the door of the store, it feels as if someone has hit his chest with full force, knocking the air out of him.

He sees Osamu leaning towards you with a sense of familiarity. What’s going on there? And why does it bother him so much that you giggle and look at Osamu, who returns your gaze with a nod and a smile before turning to the door? His brother winces when he sees Atsumu. As you turn around as well, your smile disappears.

You look at Atsumu as if you’ve just seen a corpse, before packing your bag and saying goodbye to Osamu with a “See you tomorrow.”, only to walk past Atsumu with quick steps. You don’t even give him a glance, knowing that if you locked eyes with him, your tears would run. You would want to ask him questions upon questions. Why did you break up with me? Why am I not enough for you? Why did you lie to me for so long? Why...

As you walk through the door, you accidentally bump into him. This nudge, which was actually rather gentle, felt so painful. Why does it bother Atsumu to see you standing so close to his brother? Why does it hurt him that you stared at him with those empty eyes, as if he were a stranger? No. Worse, as if he were someone who had hurt you. Why does he have the feeling that he couldn’t make a sound if he opened his mouth now? The answer is simple, and even Atsumu seems to understand it by now as he looks from the now closed door over to Osamu, who stares at him with an indifferent expression crossing his arms in front of his chest. “So this is what someone who has realized that he doesn’t want a relationship looks like? Ya look like shit.”

Oh, how Atsumu would love to punch Osamu in the face. “Why are ya touchin’ my girl?” is bitter on his tongue, but he has no right to say it out loud. After all, he was the one who turned you down. The blonde Miya suddenly realizes how incredibly stupid his action was.

Back then, Atsumu had not expected to be traveling abroad so often. At first, it was only temporary stays. Nothing that would damage a relationship.

But the last few times in particular, he was sometimes away for several months. You kept telling him on the phone that everything was okay, but every time he called Osamu, he said that your eyes were sometimes red when you came to work and that you looked tired and sad.

Atsumu knew he was the reason. That you’d probably be better off without him. After all, you’re a great woman, someone who would find a new partner quickly.

You didn’t deserve to be sad all the time when he was gone. You should be happy. After all, a smile suits you so much better than a sad expression.

Atsumu would concentrate on his career. It would be difficult for him at first, but he would manage without you. He had to… for your sake.

So his mind was made up when he read your unanswered, concerned messages. If he texts you now to say that it’s over, being an ass to you, you’ll be able to forget him quickly… That was what he thought. 

But it wasn’t that easy. Your puzzled messages, your crying voice on his voicemail, broke his heart. Yet he tried to cover it all up with parties and his dear fans. He convinced himself that he was fine. Only to arrive home, see you and realize what an idiot he was, how much he missed you.

And now it’s Atsumu who reaches for his phone and texts you message after message.

Atsumu 8:02 PM: Hey babe, no.. hey Y/n. I know I have no right to text you. But please… let’s talk. I fucked up. Damn, I fucked up so hard that I don’t even know how to start… shit…

Atsumu 8:12 PM: Please… please answer your phone, babe…

Atsumu 8:44 PM: I know I’ve fucked up. I know I hurt and disappointed you. Fuck, I know I was an ass. Yk, I thought I was doing the right thing. 

Atsumu 9:34 PM: Fuck… please answer me… I still… damnit. 

That was the last message you received from Atsumu before you put your phone away and tried to forget him. Why is he doing this to you? Why is he stirring up your feelings again?

But Atsumu doesn’t think about stopping now. He runs to your house, to the apartment building and rings your doorbell. Once, twice, he rings so often that you can’t ignore it. You are about to tell him to leave through the loudspeaker system, but he interrupts you.

“Fuck baby, please open the door. I’m… I still love ya, okay? I always loved ya. I - shit, can ya even hear me? Fuck…” he curses agitatedly and presses the bell next to your nameplate again several times.

But instead of letting him in, you go down to the entrance of the apartment building and open the door with an expression on your face that Atsumu has never seen before. What is it? Anger, sadness, despair? Everything somehow.

“Say... are you kidding me? Do you think that’s funny?” you ask him, bewildered, still standing in the open doorway. Of course, you wouldn’t just believe him. Atsumu could have guessed. Your reaction was completely understandable. But he has to do something to show you that he’s serious.

“No, no, I don’t. I’m dead serious. Please let me explain,” he says, and starts to tell you that he thought a break-up would be best for you because he’s not good enough for you. Since you were obviously so sad about him leaving so often and he didn’t want to be the reason. He tells you that he thought he could get over you, but that he had to realize that you are the most important thing to him. Something… someone he doesn’t want to lose. With shaky hands and a still agitated voice, Atsumu takes out his phone.

“I wanted ya to hate me so that it would be easier for ya. But believe me, I... I couldn’t forget ya. Look, you’re still my wallpaper. All the photos of the two of us are still on my phone, all the memories-“ he is about to unlock his screen when his phone falls out of his hand and drops to the floor. Atsumu seems to be completely overwhelmed right now, as if he doesn’t know what to do. Should he bend down, pick up the phone, should he keep talking to you or hug you? He doesn’t know.

”Baby, please, please, I’ll do anything. Please gimme a chance. I’ll talk to my agent about not takin’ so many jobs abroad. I will be with ya more often. Always write to ya and call ya in the evening when I’m not at home. Let’s look for an apartment so we can move in together. Please, please, I would do anything. Please believe me that I love ya. Please..." he begs in a voice that becomes more and more brittle with every word. His eyes are full of emotion and his hands, which have unconsciously reached for yours, are trembling terribly.

“Two months... two months you ignored me, treated me like a piece of trash.” You say in a low voice as you search for eye contact. Atsumu has never felt so scared. Only now does he realize that the love of his life is standing in front of him, and that this might be the last time he’ll see her again, the last time he’ll touch her skin. But then again… Atsumu was an ass, so why should you forgive him? No, he can’t think like that. After all, you loved him. And if you love him as much as he loves you, then maybe there’s still hope.

“I know, and I know I can never make it up to ya. I know it’s not done with an ‘I’m sorry’. I’m the dumbest, most idiotic ex-boyfriend you’ve ever had. But... I’m stubborn too. And if that means chasin’ after ya for 10 years, drivin’ to yer apartment every day to ring the doorbell and tell ya I still love ya, wishin’ ya a good night every day, nice dreams and telling ya how important you are to me... I’ll do it. Every damn day, if it means there’s still a little hope for us.” He answers you hoarsely, keeping eye contact, hoping that you see how honest his words are.

You sigh, bend down, and pick up his phone before handing it to him. Atsumu doesn’t know what to do with all this. His face grimaces as if he’s expecting the worst. “Then... you shouldn’t lose your phone... if you want to write to me every day,” you answer him, a weak smile on your lips. Atsumu’s sorrowful expression suddenly changes and you see him looking at you with hope.

“Does that mean ya...” the blonde Miya can no longer contain his emotions as he leaps forward and pulls you into his arms. His embrace is so tight that you can barely breathe, as if he’s afraid you’ll slip out of his hands. Firm, but quivering. His whole body is shaking and you’re sure you’ve just felt something wet on your skin. Tears? Is Atsumu crying? “I promise to be a pain in yer ass every day. To text ya, to call ya, to be there for ya. Even in yer sleep. Okay? I love ya... I love ya so much...”

tw: abuse, anger issues, mention of blood

You’ve been with Iwaizumi since your school days. Back then, as a little flirt at school, Oikawa and Matsukawa mainly teased Iwaizumi for having a crush on you.

But in the end, many were jealous of the perfect couple who waltzed together on the dance floor at the prom with loving looks on their faces.

You were inseparable. Even Iwaizumi’s stay in America for his university didn’t affect your relationship. So it was no wonder that you got married after his return and were the perfect happy couple.

At least for the first few years.

The stress of being a coach for the Japanese national team is weighing on Iwaizumi’s mind. He normally handles stressful situations well, but he is under pressure.

If the team fails to perform in the next few games, he will lose many sponsors and possibly even his job.

Iwaizumi is constantly on edge and you feel like you have to walk on eggshells around him so you don’t provoke him.

More often, he has sudden temper tantrums, shouting at you about things that aren’t worth mentioning. “Damn it, I told you I need this one shirt for today. Why isn’t it clean?”

And once, when you stumbled with your words and asked him whether it might not be better to take a break as a coach, he was so angry that he almost hit you. But he managed to hold back and just sighed before going out for a beer in a nearby bar.

You don’t want to admit it to yourself, but right now, you’re really scared of your own husband.

Today was another training match between the Japanese national team and the Indonesian team. The team’s performance was better, but nowhere near good enough to shine. You watched the game on TV and run through your imaginary list in your head already, of potential trigger points for Iwaizumi. You don’t want him to get upset. The laundry is done; the house is clean; the food is also ready and in the fridge. Did you take out the trash? You chew nervously on your lower lip as you walk to the kitchen and let out a relieved sigh. That’s done too.

You are just closing the lid of the garbage can when you hear the key in the lock of your front door and Iwaizumi comes home with a surprisingly normal, “I’m home, my love, smells good in here”. Your shoulders relax immediately, a smile is back on your lips as you walk cheerfully into the hallway to greet Iwaizumi.

“Hello darling! How was your day?” Iwaizumi hugs you and leans down so you can kiss his cheek. “Let me eat something first. My day has been really exhausting,” he sighs, watching you nod and turn around to warm up the food for him. Your husband hangs up his jacket, puts down his bag and is about to turn around to follow you when he stumbles against a nearby vase that you had placed as a decoration for the fall changeover. The vase swings, loses its balance and falls to the floor in pieces.

“Shit!” You hear Iwaizumi curse and immediately run to him, anxiously hoping that nothing has happened to him. But luckily, he is unharmed. “Wait, I’ll clean up the broken pieces, you eat-“ you’re about to say, but Iwaizumi interrupts you loudly. “Always this stupid bullshit you put up. Shit, I could have hurt myself. If I miss now, that’s it for my career!” he shouts and stomps past you. You turn around hastily and apologize. “That wasn’t my intention, really,” you say, before realizing that it was a mistake to talk back. Iwaizumi turns around, his eyes ferocious and angry like a wild animal as he takes a step towards you. Your heart is beating restlessly and you are suddenly afraid.

“Not your intention? Admit it, you’d be happy if I got rid of the job!” he shouts, noticing how you start to tremble and shake your head. But Iwaizumi doesn’t seem to be in his right mind as he takes another step towards you. “Go clean up the mess! Make yourself useful!” he says through gritted teeth as he looks at your anxious and puzzled face. You know you should move, but your body doesn’t seem to listen, too scared to move a finger. And then it happens.

Iwaizumi grabs you by the hair and pulls you towards him. You cry out, weeping bitterly as you hear his voice again. “Are you deaf?! Get going!” he shouts, before pushing you away with more force than necessary. You lose your balance, stumble over your own feet as you fall and hit your head on the edge of the stairs in the hallway next to the broken vase. Your head hurts terribly, something warm flows down your face, sticking to your hair and making your vision suddenly completely different. It gets smaller and smaller before everything goes black in front of your eyes and the sounds around you stop completely.

Iwaizumi is abruptly perfectly sober and only now understands what has just happened. What he has just done to you, the woman he loves more than anything.

His eyes are big as he stares at his hands, which start to tremble in front of him.

Panic spreads through him as he looks at you. At your motionless body, at all the blood under your head.

He doesn’t know how he did it. His memories are hazy, but he can still remember trying to wake you up, in vain.

He had taken off his shirt, pressed it on your head injury to stop the bleeding and somehow managed to call an ambulance. Iwaizumi can’t remember anything else, just the one question from the paramedic who put you on the ambulance stretcher and took you to the hospital. Since Iwaizumi was your husband, he was allowed to drive with you.

“How did this happen?” the paramedic asked, as Iwaizumi answered quietly, “I don’t know... I really don’t know.”

It’s now been some hours after the accident and your head had been stitched up. Thank God it wasn’t as bad as it looked at first.

You’re still in the recovery room, Iwaizumi next to your bed on a chair, his hands folded in his lap as he hangs his head in bewilderment, looking at his wedding ring shining on his ring finger.

What happened? What has become of him? He still can’t believe what he has done.

He looks at his hands again, opens them, starts to tremble, clenches them into fists and realises how he lets out a frustrated sigh, which he had been holding back, as warm tears roll down his cheeks, soaking the fabric of his trousers.

In his mind, there’s only your shaking body, that frightened look, your screaming, and then this unbearable silence.

When you open your eyes, your head throbs a little and you have to squint through the bright, clinical light. “Where... where am I?” you say quietly, looking around the room and noticing that you’re lying in a hospital room. Next to your bed is none other than Iwaizumi. But he looks different. Broken… He shrinks at your words and looks up at you. You see his red eyes and how he hesitates whether it’s okay to take your hand in his. Iwaizumi gets up from his chair, wants to close the distance to your bed but his legs collapse and he falls to his knees when he suddenly starts to... cry? 

“Haji- me...” you say, still feeling exhausted. “I’m... god I...” Iwaizumi doesn’t know what to say, doesn’t know how to look you in the eye. He takes a deep breath, regains his courage before peering at you. Carefully, he grasps your hand, checking if you are afraid, but you don’t seem to pull it away. Maybe because you’re still too tired. Awkwardly, he strokes the back of your hand before resting his forehead on it and closing his eyes briefly.

“I’m a terrible husband. I’ve done everything I shouldn’t have done. Instead of carrying you on my hands, bringing a smile to your face and protecting you from everything that would harm you, I’ve done the exact opposite. Instead of being happy to see me, you’re just scared of me, aren’t you?” he says in a shaky voice and looks up at you again. You are calm. Just stare at him with a hurt look.

“I.... I can understand if you want a divorce. If you don’t want to be with a monster like me anymore. I really can’t even blame you. But... please let me tell you one thing. When I saw you lying on the floor like that, the world collapsed inside me. I was afraid of losing the most important thing in my life. And the most important thing is not my job, no, it’s you. And I’m ashamed that I’ve forgotten that. I am disgusted with myself and I know that is no excuse. What I have done is unforgivable. But please... if there is still a bit of hope, then I will try to do everything I can to be the man you fell in love with again. I want to be your Haji-bear again. Your place of peace, and your favorite person. I will go to anger issues therapy, behavioral therapy. If it’s better for our relationship, I’ll step down as a coach and see if I can find a job as a volleyball coach at a school. No matter what, I would do anything.” Your hand becomes wet as his tears land on it. His words move something inside you. You want to believe him, you don’t want the relationship to end either, but everything that has happened so far will not pass by without damage.

“I need time, Hajime... If you really mean it, please grant me the time...” you answer him and notice how your words seem to tear him apart. But at the same time he seems to want to make the best of the situation. He lets go of your hand and stands up just to sit back down on the chair next to your bed, looking at you determinedly, his eyes still red and swollen. “As much time as you need. If it means we still have a chance...”

A few months pass. Iwaizumi has passed on the house to you and moved into his parents’ house to give you the space you need. He goes to therapy three times a week and tells you about his progress. He is still coaching the national team, but his assistant coach is taking a lot of the work off his hands and the volleyball team seems to be playing better again.

Just like when you were at school, you’ll find a letter in your letterbox once a week. Back then, Iwaizumi always told you a bit about his week and wrote it down because, funnily enough, he was too shy to talk to you in person. Only that in his current letters he writes that he misses you, but hopes that you are doing well at the moment.

He meets you in public places, goes out with you, so that you gradually feel more comfortable with him again, that you can see his progress in therapy and don’t just think it’s empty words.

Six months have passed since the incident. You are standing in the bedroom, changing the sheets, when Iwaizumi comes through the front door of the house. “My love, I’m home,” you hear Iwaizumi’s calm voice. Coming home from his therapy session, he hangs up his jacket in the hallway as your voice lets him know where you are. 

Iwaizumi puts the flowers he bought for you on the kitchen table before he sneaks into the bedroom and sees you trying to unfold the sheets to put them on the blankets. With silent steps, he reaches around your waist to throw you onto the bed with him, wrapped in the covers that were in your hands earlier. Screaming, you laugh in unison with his chuckle as you look into each other’s eyes. “Hajime! Don’t scare me like that.” you laugh softly, while his hand gently tucks your hair behind your ear. Iwaizumi looks at your forehead, at the small scar that is left from your injury, before leaning forward and giving you a kiss on that spot.

“I’m sorry, but that was just so tempting,” he says, closing his eyes as he pulls you closer and just relaxes in bed with you. He strokes your back and kisses your forehead once more. “Hajime... what’s going on? Why are you so clingy suddenly?” you laugh, but Iwaizumi doesn’t join in the laughter, instead answering you seriously.

“Today, six months ago, I almost lost you. I’m just grateful that nothing happened to you. Thankful that you gave me another chance, even though I showed my worst side.” You can’t think of the right words to answer him, so you just smile, snuggle closer to him, and close your eyes. Safe in his arms, with his pulsating heart at your ear, you fall asleep.

tw: mention of abortion, mention of drugs/pills (without consent) 

Suna and you were just friends for a long time. Even if the others saw you more like a couple.

You were the only one Suna didn’t mind when you sat next to him and pulled out one of his earphones to listen to music with him.

You always had the same route to school and if one of you came to school alone, you knew immediately that the other one must be sick. 

With graduation, you mentioned that you might want to study abroad. That time, Suna had a weird feeling in his stomach for the first time. As if he was afraid of losing you.

That was the day he realised that he felt more for you than just friendship.

The same evening, he asked you to come over and watch a movie when he yawned in a very clichéd way to put his arm over your shoulder and pull you closer to him. He didn’t know why he was so nervous, but he just was.

A number of things went through his mind. What if you don’t feel the same way about him as he does about you? Will you still want to study abroad? Would you end your friendship with him if you didn’t feel the same way?

He tried to block out the questions and then, with his usual calmness, asked you if you could imagine anything more than a friendship. Luckily for him, you said yes.

From that moment on, everything was perfect. You had created your own little world over several years. You studied, and luckily not abroad. Suna was successful in volleyball, so you were both able to buy an apartment together quickly.

Just the two of you. Your friends were there from time to time, but in the evenings you were always alone at home, arm in arm, in the quiet flat without any noise or other people to disturb you.

Until one morning where you look at the little piece of plastic in the bathroom, stunned, when the two red stripes tell you that you are pregnant.

You hadn’t spoken to Suna about having children yet, but you’ve been together for so long now and everything is going well that you assume he would be just as happy as you are.

You thought…

When Suna comes home, you’ve already prepared a little surprise. There are a pair of baby shoes on the table in the living room, the pregnancy test in front of them and a little balloon with “Best Dad” written on it. You can’t help smiling as you see Suna walk into the room when you call out “surprise”, looking a little shy in his direction. But Suna’s reaction differed from what you expected.

Almost disgusted, he looks in your direction. “This better be one of those stupid TikTok pranks, right?” he says, and your smile disappears abruptly. Your stomach turns and you feel sick. And not because of the pregnancy. You stand there irritated, only able to utter a quiet “No... it’s not a joke”, confused by his negative reaction. “No? What week are you in? Tell me you can still have an abortion...” he says, annoyed, as he walks towards the table to see if there is any information about the week of pregnancy on the pregnancy test. 

“What?” you say in bewilderment, still looking at Suna, who throws the test on the table in frustration before starting to massage his temples. “We’ll go to the gynecologist tomorrow, okay? Get rid of it. A child means responsibility. You have to look after this thing all the time, you’re no longer flexible and it’s noisy too... I just don’t want that.” 

His words feel like a thousand stabs. Never have you seen Suna act like this before. You anticipated that he might be a bit taken by surprise and perhaps not be able to deal with the situation at first, but Suna seems to have a very clear opinion on the subject. He doesn’t even seem to be willing to talk. But abort a child? Let Suna’s and your baby die just like that? You can’t do that. You don’t want that. 

The two of argue. Suna’s look gets progressively angrier. Yours sadder until he decides to leave the house with a “Do what you want, maybe it’ll die anyway”. Now you’re home alone with his painful words. You stand rooted to the spot in the room for several more minutes until the strength in your legs finally gives way and you slump to the floor, crying bitterly. The night, you spend alone in your bed, without Suna. He doesn’t answer his phone and doesn’t reply to your messages. You don’t hear from him the next day either, and he hasn’t come home. Thank God you get a message from Osamu, who texts you that Suna is with him and that you have nothing to worry about. But how are you supposed to stay at home without worrying if your boyfriend doesn’t get in touch with you and you’ve been arguing for days? You are scared. Afraid for the baby, afraid for the relationship and everything you two have built up.

Another day passes. You lie in bed, tired and lacking in energy. Nevertheless, you pull yourself together and get up, go to the bathroom to get ready for the day and don’t notice when the front door opens and Suna walks in. “Baby doll, I’m at home... and... I’m sorry...” you hear Suna’s voice and walk out of the bathroom. Even though you had a fight, you are still happy to see the man you love so much again. With a somewhat sad smile, he stands there, a bouquet of flowers in his hand as he approaches you.

“I’m really sorry. I behaved like an ass. You took me by surprise with the news and somehow... I don’t know. What do you say you sit down now? I’ll make us a drink and we can talk about all this. About the baby, and what happens next?” You can hardly believe his words. What has Osamu done in the last few days to make Suna suddenly do a full turnaround and be willing to talk to you openly, without shouting about becoming a parent? You make a mental note to thank Osamu later, before nodding with a smile and sitting down on the sofa in the living room.

But what you don’t know is that Suna went to a friend, a doctor, who gave him two pills before he came home. Pills for an induction of abortion. You have to take one now and the other two to three days later.

Suna knows that you wouldn’t take these pills voluntarily.

So he makes sure that you are indeed sitting in the living room before he takes out a small bag containing a pill, puts it in the grinder and turns it into a fine powder before mixing it into your iced tea.

He takes a deep breath, putting his smile back on as he walks towards you in the living room, where you are already waiting for him with happy eyes.

Without saying much, he hands you the glass, sits down next to you and watches you.

“I know it’s all so sudden and I could have said it differently. I really took you completely by surprise with the news,” you say quietly, looking at the iced tea in your hand, unaware that an abortion pill is floating there.

Suna listens attentively as you talk about how you first had to understand what a pregnancy means, but that your overwhelm quickly turned into joy because you are looking forward to holding a mini version of the two of you in your arms in less than 9 months. You talk about all the beautiful things that are going through your head, while Suna continues to listen to you, his eyes constantly focus on the tea in your hands and you.

He keeps looking at you as you raise the glass and press it to your lips, ready to drink the poison cocktail, when he realizes what he was doing. What he’s trying to do here.

Panic strikes him. His green eyes widen as he literally knocks the cup out of your hand. It falls to the floor with a loud thud. “Don’t drink that!” he says in an unsteady voice and looks at you in horror.

But you don’t understand anything, only shake your head.

“I don’t know what’s gotten into me. I... I think I just made the worst mistake of my life,” Suna says, looking back from you to the broken cup. You don’t understand what’s going on and tilt your head, asking him if everything is all right. But when Suna continues talking and tells you what was in your tea, your world collapses. You are shocked that your own boyfriend wanted to do this to you. “I was overwhelmed. I... I know that’s no excuse. But when I heard you talking, I realized that -“ Suna wanted to continue, but your voice cut him off, your words silenced him.

“Let’s break up,” you say, and unlike before, unlike when you argued a week ago, your voice is determined now, your eyes full of pain and betrayal. Those green eyes that used to mesmerize you are now looking at you desperately. “What?” Suna whispers softly, followed by a “No, wait”. But you interrupt him again.

“You just wanted to give me some drugs without my consent so I’d lose the baby?! No, Rintarou… I’m breaking up with you. That... no, I can’t do that.” Abruptly, you get up from the sofa, ignoring the hand that tries to grab you before quickly slipping into a jacket and a pair of shoes just to leave the apartment. Suna wants to run after you, but his legs won’t move. His mind and heart are screaming to run after you, to stop you and tell you he’s sorry, but his body just won’t obey him. When he finally manages to get up, you’re already gone.

Still wearing his slippers and without putting on a jacket, he eventually runs out to check out all the places you love, all your friends, to see if he can find you somewhere. But no matter where he looks, he can’t find you. You don’t reply to messages or phone calls. The mechanical voice of your voice mail greets him directly. “Shit, shit, shit!” he yells as he stands in the park where you two had your first official date. The surrounding people look at him. Some with an irritated look, some as if they were pitying him.

Without really knowing where to go, your legs automatically led you to the bus that goes to Kita’s home.

Kita was one of your best friends back then. And you knew that if you went to Kita and told him not to tell Suna that you were there, he wouldn’t tell his friend either. And that’s exactly what Kita did.

You were in Kita’s guest room when you heard Suna’s voice in the hallway.

He sounded shattered, broken, as he begged Kita to tell him where you were.

This went on for several weeks, until one evening Suna rang the doorbell again, trying to talk to Kita in a voice you had never heard before.

His voice was so thin, so fragile, as if a heap of misery was speaking out of him.

Kita tells him once again that he doesn’t know where you are when you hesitantly open the door, thinking about going downstairs and listening to what Suna has to say. But for now, you just listen to the conversation.

“Please, Shinsuke, I know you know her location. Please, just give her this. Please...” Kita sighs, followed by a soft “ok...” before the front door closes. Your best friend’s footsteps creak beneath the floor as he walks up the stairs, looks at you a little twisted and hands you a large package.

You know that you demand a lot from Kita. It’s not easy for him to lie to his friend either. Eventually you have to talk to Suna.

Alone in your guest room, you spend almost half an hour looking at the unopened package at the other end of the bed until you finally decide to open it. When you see what’s inside, surprise catches you. Multiple emotions flow through your body without you even noticing how your eyes suddenly turn glassy. Small letters and several items are in the box. You take out the letter that is on top of all the other items.

“My love, I don’t even know where to start. I can’t apologize for what I did. Nevertheless, I want to tell you that I’m sorry. I was confused and scared. Our relationship has always been perfect so far and I thought it was great that it was just the two of us and that no one else disturbed our privacy. I was afraid that when we had a child, we would argue, have no more time for each other, and grow apart. I was selfish and didn’t think about how you would feel. I wasn’t thinking about our baby. The thought that we were both going to be parents hadn’t crossed my mind at all. But every time I walked past those little shoes you had placed in the living room, I couldn’t think of anything else but seeing our child standing in them. How it tries to move around in it, sometimes falls down because it loses its balance and seeks shelter with its beloved mom. I regret every second of what I’ve done, every word I’ve said. Hurting you was the last thing I wanted to do, and yet I did it. I am sorry. I am so terribly sorry.

I did some research. Did you know that it is currently very difficult to find midwives? You should probably start looking very early on. My team colleague gave me the number of the midwife he and his wife had at the birth of their two children. I also have three other numbers. You might want to give them a call. There are also birth preparation classes in our town. I have also put a brochure in the package for you. You don’t necessarily have to go there with your partner. With me… So... if you want, you could also go there with Kita, even if I would be happy if we both did it together. But I can understand if you don’t want to.

Are you eating enough? You should pay particular attention to your diet during pregnancy. A lot of women suffer from a vitamin deficiency during pregnancy. But you have probably already discussed this with your gynecologist. Anyway, I’ve written down a few recipes for you that are rich in vitamins. I admit that Osamu helped me a little with this. Oh, and on the back are some things you shouldn’t eat during pregnancy. Raw eggs and products containing them such as ice cream, mayonnaise and so on... you should not eat them, because the risk of salmonella infection is high. Peanuts can contain aflatoxins, which can also harm the fetus... but as I said, I’ve put together a list for you. In case you didn’t already know all this already. There are a few other things in the box. Maybe you’d like to take a look.

I hope you are doing well. I hope the baby is doing well too. Have you thought of a name yet? Do you know whether it will be a boy or a girl? I’m sure there’s already a little bump on your belly. I... would really like to be with you right now. Would love to hold you in my arms and stroke your tummy. I know I made a mistake that can never be fixed. But if you’re willing, if that’s what you want, I’d really like to be by your side again. And if not as your boyfriend, then as the father of our baby. I would like to do couples’ therapy with you so that we can find our way back to each other… So that you can trust me again. Because in all of this, I was the problem and never you. But only if you want it too, of course. I know it may be hard to believe, but I love you. So much that a life without you scares me. I am sorry…”

You’re crying bitterly by now as your tears blur the ink on the letter before you put it aside and look in the box. Next to a small onesie for babies, there is a note with the telephone numbers of midwives, a small book with recipes, the brochure he had mentioned and another box containing photos and memories. Pictures that Suna had always secretly taken of you at times when he thought you looked extra pretty. You always found the photos embarrassing, but for him they were beautiful to look at. Because they were moments when you were just being you, not smiling for the camera or doing anything else to disguise yourself.

There was also a necklace with shells on it in the box. You made it for Suna when you were on vacation in Croatia. It turned out incredibly ugly, yet Suna wore it proudly during the whole vacation. You’re touched that he still has this ugly necklace. Little notes that you wrote to each other at school are also in there. So many more memories from the past. Where had Suna hidden this little box in your apartment so that you never noticed it?

You hastily get up, open the door and run down to the hallway as Kita comes out of the living room and looks at you questioningly. “Is everything all right? Do you need to see a doctor?” He asks concerned, but you just shake your head, wanting nothing more than to see Suna, talk to him again. He asks you if you are absolutely sure, but your determined nod is enough for an answer. So he grabs his jacket and car keys, driving you straight to your ex boyfriend, to your apartment. He doesn’t want you to take the bus in your current state.

Suna is sitting in the living room. In front of him on the coffee table are various reports on pregnancy, parenting and more. His head is leaning on his hands as he takes a deep breath. Have you opened his package yet? He wonders, unable to think clearly, when he hears the key in the door lock and runs into the hallway as if stung by a tarantula. His eyes are wide as he looks at you, standing rooted to the spot in the doorway, not knowing how to react.

“Shinsuke... Drove me here...” you say. “I opened your package.” You continue, watching Suna swallow hard, still not moving an inch from the doorframe. “How are you, the baby?” he asks quietly, almost absent-mindedly, as if he can’t believe you’re really standing in front of him. “Good... can... can we talk?” you ask and watch him nod, having trouble sorting out his feelings. You take a step towards him, clearly seeing the dark circles, the red eyes, the slightly thinner face, as if he has lost weight. And on closer look, you can see his whole body trembling.

“Is everything you wrote in your letter true?” you ask him, trying to keep your voice as calm as possible, even though you’re at your wits’ end. “Yes, yes all of it. I’m sorry for everything... I want nothing more than to see you happy. To see our baby happy. And if you want another partner by your side to be happy, if you don’t want me in your life, then I will accept that.” Suna whispers, knowing that if he were to speak even a little louder, his voice would fail and he would cry. You take another step towards him. “What if I want you? Want to give it another try?” You have barely spoken your sentence before you hear a bitter shuffle from Suna, which he seems to have been suppressing the whole time. His shaky hands carefully reach for your face before he presses his forehead against yours and says softly, “I would wish for nothing more than that.”

Although you hesitate for a second, you finally put your hands around his back and stand with him in the doorway for a while. Neither of you says a word. Both of you let your tears run until Suna releases you at some point and gives you a kiss on the forehead. “You shouldn’t stand for so long. You’d better get some rest,” he says in a somewhat steady voice before helping you out of your jacket and leading you into the bedroom, where he pushes the sheets aside so you can lie down. 

“Rin, but I’m not tired at all...” you say, even though you are exhausted, but Suna lies down right next to you, pulling you close while his free hand moves to your stomach. “I know... But... let’s just lie here like this for a moment, regain our strength before we talk... Talk about everything, our future, how I can make it up to you, our little baby… Agree, baby doll?” He whispers tiredly. Yet you also notice how all the crying is slowly making you a little tired. “Agree, Rin.” you smile weakly, snuggling closer to him as you both fall asleep arm in arm, his hand protectively on your baby bump, your hand on his.

[shotmrmiller]

Purely self indulgent ask cause im tipsy., but how would the 141 deal with a partner that was just tipsy enough to be giggly and sleepy?? I can def see JOhnny matching energy and making them laugh and matching energy, Gazx being also matching energy but aslo giving them water and soft, Price and Ghost i see as a mix of very amused and very "ok lovie, time to go to bed" and tucking them in. Anyway, thank you for writing your fics and drabbles i check your blog every day after work <3 Your underground fighter au! is my absolule fave, but babysitter is also soooo good too. sorry for my typos im sure are making this hard to read lol.

soap has drunk as much as you and isn't nowhere near pissed as but he finds it cute and doesn't police how much you drink but will eventually just hide the bottle like there's no more hen time for bed :)

kyle's watching you have a good time and def indulges you in every little thing. doesn't matter if your cackling at a picture of clifford the big red dog on x, he's chuckling with you. want chinese he knows you won't eat? already on the phone. yes, you can sing him a song. also drink your water.

john's a heavy ass drinker. sips on scotch all day if he can. smokes heavy too. def tells you to slow down and drink some water unless you wanna end up with a hangover tomorrow. he lets you smother his face with drunken kisses in front of everyone. doesn't gaf. if you're happy he's happy.

simon doesn't let you drink certain things. doesn't drink if yall are out in public either. someone's gotta keep you safe. he'll have a pint at most. but when yall come home post date, he breaks out his favorite kentucky and has you sit on your lap. watches the way you talk with your hands while slurring out a story he cannot understand but it's important he hears it so he's not interrupting you. water. tylenol.

edit: stfu not every day after work! i love you! 😭 i'm sorry i've been mia but i got something in the works that started as asshole simon that turned into he's fucking rude but also kinda slick with it so ig i'll let him in my pants and at least reader isn't a complete doormat just sorta kinda otherwise it'd be just kidnapping lmfao like unhand me sir!

[fatesundress]

⭑ observations. tom riddle x reader

part ii here.

summary. you've been going to hogwarts for four months, and find this whole school-wide obsession with tom riddle a little bit ridiculous, and a little bit contrived. surely not all the rumours are true...

tags. smut (minors dni -_-), fem anatomy, fingering, reader who is soooo in denial, trying to worm into tom's brain like a parasite and failing miserably (me projecting), i think reader is implied to either be short or tom is implied to be tall, ooc tom because i am so far from the belief that he would ever just spontaneously hook up with someone but… it is what it is.

note. this is my first post so support is much appreciated!! god forgive me, i've never written smut in my life, and it's safe to assume any smut i write within hogwarts is a university au — these people are all 18+ tyvm. also, i tried my best to make reader fairly neutral, but it's late, and if i've fumbled over some description bc i'm sleepy i shall fix it in the morning ♡

word count. 5.1k

Your first observation is that nobody has Tom Riddle quite right.

He’s beautiful, yes (obvious, repetitive, shallow), and undeniably intelligent (being paired with him in Potions has proved that in a matter of weeks), untouchable (this one is a bit interesting), and, above all, unusual. The latter you like the most. It makes you feel unabashedly exceptional in all the very unexceptional gossip about him. No one ever uses that word to describe him. A rarity of charisma and charm — austere, refined, and clinically polite. Unusual has a negative curve to it that most people don’t attach to the elegant litheness of Tom Riddle, but your observations cannot be stated without the word.

It’s prompted and peddled by Selwyn’s much-too-enthusiastic vehemence in the wake of your first.

You narrow your eyes at her and say it again, no less certain than the first time. “Tom Riddle has not had sex with half the school.”

It’s a bit of a jump. Some necessary context is removed.

Riddle, once more, rarity of charisma and charm and austere blah blah blah, has been rumoured since you arrived this year from your last school to be some silent conqueror, oh-so nimble with his hands and nimbler even with his other appendages, and you — you’ve only been here four months and it’s laughable how many people believe it.

Backtrack to untouchable (this one everyone agrees is a primary characteristic of Tom Riddle, there’s no debate there) and the reason you find it interesting. Untouchable doesn’t exactly work if everyone in the bloody castle has been touching him this whole time. And it’s not as if he could hide it, not as if people wouldn’t be giddy to tell their friends of their exploits with the beautiful, revered Head Boy. And such exploits would be whispers among the halls in a matter of hours. You’ve considered this, with almost scientific determination, and it’s impossible. Tom studies all day, and when he isn’t studying he’s corralling Slytherin first-years away from forbidden corridors, attending to Dippet’s newest errand, escorting third-years to Hogsmeade, dining with the Slug Club, and — point is, someone would have noticed by now if he was disappearing into broom closets with a new lay every weekend.

But Selwyn shakes her head, because this rumour is such an integral part of Tom’s allure. He is, somehow, both untouchable and a master at touch. Distant until he isn’t, and then he can break you apart with practised, perfect hands. It’s all very mythical.

“Look,” she says, “maybe if I’d only been here four months, I’d think so too, but everyone else knows—”

“Maybe it’s because I’ve only been here four months that I have the objectivity to recognize how ridiculous you all are. He’s not a god, Selwyn, he’s a scholar, and an obsessed one at that — has it ever actually occurred to you he might not have had sex at all?”

This, now, is sacrilege. 

Selwyn gapes at you, and you shake your head in surrender before you burst out laughing at how offended she looks. “Fine, whatever. Consider the matter dropped. I give up.”

You don’t really give up. It’s very fun research.

Your second observation is that unusual is not an apt enough word for Tom, and maybe you don’t possess the vocabulary to think of one that is.

You’re in the Restricted Section. This is unrelated to your Tom research, and perfectly sanctioned, with a key granted by the librarian who you feel sorry to admit you have not remembered the name of, and the library, by all means, is still open. It’s a late Thursday night, but not past curfew. You’re there with a study partner you rather wish you weren’t — Gregory Godefrey, Gryffindor (the alliteration is nauseating), and the only half-decent fellow in your Ancient Runes class, but not especially bright. You feel more like his tutor than his partner. In short, the regular books on the topic you’re writing your end-of-term essay on are slim pickings, and thus — Restricted Section.

“So,” you say, “the scriptures might look the same, but they’re written in vastly different time periods, so the meaning has changed. If you were to charge a spell with one of Ashe’s runes now, there’s almost no doubt you’d get a completely different result.”

“I don’t get it,” Godefrey grumbles sleepily into his sleeve. “How’s anyone meant to use runes if they can just change like that?”

You sigh, shaking your head. “Any magic can change, Godefrey. Half of the stuff we learn is based on intention and skill. Uagadou barely even uses wands — all of this is arbitrary.”

“My head hurts.”

“Then… just… just go to bed. I’ll finish up here and we’ll try again on the weekend.”

He grins with heavy eyes, lugging his bag over his shoulder and leaving you a packet of sherbet lemons you bitterly wish he’d pulled out sooner. “Wicked — you’re the best. See’ya.”

“See you…” you mumble, unwrapping one and popping it in your mouth.

You don’t stay for long, twirling the key to the Restricted Section around your finger as you tuck your books back into their shelves.

“It’s ten past curfew,” says a voice from behind you, all cool, measured authority, and you nearly collapse.

You stare up from where you’re grabbing onto your knees for balance, your heart halfway out of your chest.

Tom Riddle is there, his Head Boy badge somehow still glittering in the dim light of the library, and it’s only by the half-smile quirking at his lips that you can detect his words weren’t some sort of threat.

“Right, thanks.” You gather your breath. “I was just leaving.”

“Pity about Godefrey.”

You blink. Having worked with Tom in Potions since September, you’ve become perfectly adjusted to speaking to him… only about Potions. He indulges in polite small talk, he smiles freely, but your distance from him is the same as it is with everyone else, if only for the fact that, you suppose, you aren’t actively pursuing anything closer.

Oh. That is interesting — would he be so easily intrigued? It’s a bit cliché, but you suppose he is too.

You’re making an awful lot of assumptions from the words ‘pity about Godefrey,’ and then, you don’t actually have a damn clue what Tom could mean by that.

“Sorry?” you ask.

“Godefrey,” he repeats. “I assume you’re being made to tutor him.”

Right. He must have seen him on his way here. That would make sense.

“No, actually. It’s entirely voluntary — he’s my study partner for Ancient Runes.”

His chin lifts in some nearly imperceptible way, smiling still, and you know he’s a polished thing, an unusual thing, but it reads as an especially fake smile then. “Ah.”

… Oooookay?

“Well —” you start, a mechanical smile of your own forming — “curfew, then.”

The charm fixes onto his face like a damn ornament. You want to flick it away with your finger. “Of course. I’ll see you in Potions?”

You nod, leaving the key behind the librarian’s desk as you slink awkwardly away. Into the corridor. Off to bed. Yet another note to scrawl on the enigma of Tom Riddle.

You see him again first thing in the morning. You’re yawning into the archway of Slughorn’s stuffy classroom, eager to dump your bag over your table and empty the many contents necessary for today’s lesson. 

There’s one girl, the oldest of the Lestranges, who glares daggers into the back of your head every class. Tom is, as always, nonplussed, asking you about your morning as you both prepare your phials and ingredients. You can’t help but shake your head at him this once, a bemused smile on your lips as you glance between him and the Lestrange girl.

“Have I offended her somehow, or is it just that I’m paired with you?”

He laughs under his breath. “I daresay that is the offense.”

You can’t help it. You’re mumbling to yourself in amazement at the bizarre, borderline cultish devotion this school has to Tom Riddle. “Unattainable commodity that you are, Riddle…”

“Well," he begins, his smile small but his voice amused, “I hope you don’t think of me as quite that far outside your grasp."

You freeze.

Are you — have you missed something? Has your casual (really, very casual and not at all unwarranted or peculiar) research for the sake of dispelling Selwyn’s obsession skewed your memory of Tom? Has he always said things like this to you? Have you always read into them like this?

One of his eyebrows rises, and it might be his notorious flattery — but if so, he makes it sound like an obvious truth, and you stammer over the jar of foxglove in your hand. Then you look away, unscrew it, do well not to put too much weight on his words.

“Hm. I have no need for you to be within it, Riddle." You say it with all nonchalance you can muster. To spit it at him in some aggressive dismissal would be to treat it like a big thing. 

It isn’t a big thing. He’s talking to you like he talks to everyone else.

But you catch the barest flicker of disappointment on his face, a flash of something that might even be annoyance. Then, though, it’s gone, and he’s back to that same unshakable, confident smirk.

As the lesson proceeds,  he’s once again the sharpest thing in the room.

You watch for him in the library that weekend, a bit distracted while you and Godefrey study. Without your guidance, there isn’t much studying occurring at all. Godefrey is sort of skimming the pages of a textbook, yawning, as always, like he’s never had a good night’s sleep in his life, and you’re suckling sherbert lemons until the roof of your mouth feels raw.

“What was it you said about Calarook’s Method?”

Your eyes snap from the empty doorway to Godefrey’s face. “Huh?”

“Calarook’s Method.”

“Oh.” You sink boredly into your seat, twirling your quill between your fingers. “It revolutionised the usage of runes globally. She incorporated — um — a much simpler means of translating the scriptures for different methods of magic.”

“Ohhhh, I remember now. Did you write that down?”

“Yes, Godefrey, I wrote it down.”

The final hour before curfew dwells agonisingly longer than it should. It feels like three, at least, until you’re packing your things and bidding Godefrey goodnight, tired legs dragging you down the corridors.

And then you straighten. You stand tall. (You’re absolutely normal about the sight before you.)

Tom smiles at you as he turns the corridor to approach.

“On patrol?” you ask in a friendly tone.

You’re… friends, right? Being someone’s Potions partner for four months qualifies as some degree of friendship, does it not? After all, he did say not to think of him as too far outside your grasp. That was a line if you’d ever heard one, but — you could be Tom’s friend the way everyone is his friend: wholly detached until you were needed.

“Leaving detention,” he answers with a timbre to match.

Your eyebrows raise at that.

“Leaving the second-years I watched in detention, I should say.”

You shake your head. “I should have known.”

“And you?”

“Studying again.”

“Ancient Runes?”

“Mhm.”

“...With Godefrey?”

“That is the concept of a recurrent study partner, yes. It’s recurrent.”

He doesn’t look very much like he appreciates your sarcasm.

“So, then,” you mutter, clearing your throat. “Curfew, I suppose.”

“You performed well in Potions today,” he says after you. It feels like the sort of thing someone says when they don’t want someone to walk away.

You bite your cheek between your teeth — such assumptions will get the better of you. Such assumptions will lead you down a path of crude, obsessive analysis (though you suppose you’ve been doing that all this time, haven’t you?) where you think, in some unspooling knitwork, that there are really only a select few reasons he could want such a thing. Your mind draws to the irresponsible conclusion, as he walks toward you again, a new glint in his eyes, that it’s exactly the sort of thing someone says before rumour has it they disappear into the nearest broom closet with the one they approach. This, you’ve decided an observation ago, Tom Riddle does not do.

“Thank you,” you say carefully. “So did you.”

“We make for a good pair, don’t you think?”

Crude, obsessive analysis. “Slughorn certainly does.”

“And I am asking you.”

He stops a respectable, inviting space before you. His weekend attire is a grey jumper and black slacks, his dark hair in its regular, pristine waves, hands laced behind his back. Everything about him is a request to be met, and not to step forward and close the distance himself. Close the distance, pristine waves, inviting space — you’ve lost your damn mind. You sound like Selwyn. The sugar of a whole packet of sherbet lemons has rendered you imbecilic. You’ll be off to bed, then — sleep this absurdity off.

“Of course, Tom,” you say with a polite smile. “It’d be hard to disagree with the grades I get in that class.” You grab onto your bag to have something to do with your hands, to perhaps signify you’ll be making your exit now.

He seems a bit amused to have to contort himself through the specifics of his meaning. “I was referring to our… rapport.”

“Rapport?”

“We work well together. We communicate efficiently.”

We communicate efficiently? Damn if you couldn’t suddenly make sense of the rumour he’d be applying for the DADA post in the future — that one was definitely true.

“Yes, we do.”

He steps closer. “And I remain far outside your grasp.”

You blink, and there’s a stark, sinking feeling as your eyes drift over the unmarred ivory of his skin, his jaw, his throat, his — no, absolutely not his hands — and you let yourself wonder for the first time if the rumours, albeit exaggerated, have even a shred of truth to them. One exploit, perhaps, to satisfy his endless curiosity. Something academic, like — oh, God, like the way you’ve been studying him for weeks. His hands carving a path down someone’s body to etch it in his memory, another skill added to his arsenal, a new way to work his fingers without a wand, a new way to work his mouth without a word.

It’s only a moment that you wonder it. Some flash of pictures in your head. It is, nonetheless, a moment far too long, and one you don’t know that you can return from.

Tom looks at you from under his eyelashes with an expression that suggests he's the only one in on a very funny joke, and the air is… different. Thick like the Potions room but in a way that’s entirely unfamiliar, not cloudy with the steam of cauldrons but hazy with the proximity of him, cologne and quill ink and something you can’t catch because you’re trying too hard to breathe it all in at once.

But he steps forward again, and seems to say in the slow way he moves, that if you’ll let him, he'll place a hand on your shoulder, and if you’ll allow that — well — then he'll move that hand up to gently frame your cheek. And then, and you no longer consider yourself at all versed in the realm of Tom Riddle, but you think you know what’ll come next.

You allow all of it. You know very well in advance you’re going to allow all of it.

And still, like it’s a surprise, you shiver at the feeling of his hand on your cheek, at the gleaming, certain look in his eyes. Your gaze flickers to his lips for just a second (a fleeting, tiny second you pray fruitlessly he doesn't notice) but his lips curl into the barest of smiles. Something so like him, small but unrestrained, like it never had any hope of growing bigger, but then — you’ve seen the way he grins at you sometimes when you say something stupid in class — you know he’s capable.

“You know what I'm going to do, I assume," he says quietly. It's not a question, per se — more of a statement, and he keeps his eyes fixed firmly on yours as he says it. He's so close you can feel the warmth of his breath. And then he leans in so slightly it might be imperceptible if you weren’t staring, holding your damn breath. “Are you going to let me?"

“I..." You're humiliated to find you are actually struggling to speak. His lips are so close to yours you can feel the ghost of them, can imagine what they might feel like on you. Your mouth is very dry. “We’re… friends, right?”

His voice only wavers for a moment, even as his lips inch ever closer to yours. His voice is tauntingly low, and there's an intimate sort of smile there, a chastising, humorous gleam to his eyes. “Friends," he breathes, and then his lips do close that short distance, and you feel the barest trace of his mouth against yours — his lips, soft and supple against your skin. A moment's kiss. Gone as quickly as it came. “Should we be friends?”

You gape at him, breathing far too heavily for such a chaste kiss, and you imagine your eyes are blown wide, and you lick your lips for a reminder of his taste but it isn't enough. You don't think before standing on your toes to find his lips again. Of course, Tom is stood impeccably straight, his chin almost pointedly jutted so that he can look down at you, and you actually — it's horribly embarrassing — you groan, or whine, or make some sound of blatant discontent at the fact that your kiss doesn’t reach him.

To his credit, his laugh is a very small one. Had it been the other way around you would have been far less forgiving. “I suppose the answer is no, then?" he says, with the implication that the next move might be yours.

“Tom," you as good as hiss (really very foolish of you to use the word forgiving to describe Tom Riddle), “you're being... you're being mean." And you refuse to make the first effort again, even though you probably appear to be a train wreck, your chest is heaving, and you... you want him.

“Am I?" he asks, and he tilts his head to the other side, almost as if to get a better look at you. “How so?" You think he's enjoying himself far too much. But he remains where he is: close enough for you to reach him if you would just yank him toward you and be done with it, and far enough away that you can't take that step without giving him the win.

You stare at him for a long moment, and then with teeth gritted so tight you might chip one, turn to walk away. Tom makes some very hollow, annoyed sound at your stubbornness, and thank god you feel him behind you: soft, lulling, not so immovable as you. 

You stop. His fingers brush your hair to the side. His mouth hovers over the skin of your neck. You shudder.

“Tom..." you sigh, half-exasperated, half-sighed, half-surrendered, but he doesn't answer or stop or do so much as acknowledge your mumbling. He only presses forward, until his breath is right by your ear and his lips, soft, gentle, are against the junction of your exposed neck, and you feel his mouth, the gentle pressure of his lips against your skin... so tender, so light that it doesn’t feel at all like something merciful.

It feels singularly, purposefully cruel.

Your third observation (if you can manage the thought) is that Tom is driven by your reactions. Every little mewl, every shudder, every gasp, he wants more of. He wants whatever you're willing to give him, and you suspect it wouldn’t be hard for him to take it all. Every movement of his hands, his mouth, his — oh, oh no — his tongue, abide by whatever you respond to most. He draws in patterns. He stops. Appreciates the speed of your pulse on the curve of your throat for a moment and then tastes it again. It doesn't seem like he particularly cares what he gets out of it. The intrigue for him is having the proximity (he greatly enjoys that you’ve allowed him it) and capacity (that, you think, he’s always had) to make you fall apart.

He's spinning you then, so you're pressed facing the wall, his chest against your back, and the way he whispers against your skin makes you shiver. You dare to think he feels it, his chest heaving against your back, his breath warm and steady by your ear. And as he kisses you you can't help but imagine what might happen if he were just a few inches lower, if he were to sink to his knees, kissing the soft flesh of your chest, and down, and down, and down…

Your eyes flutter closed, and it's clear you like what he's doing by the sound that escapes you — something loud enough for him to stifle your mouth with his palm. Perhaps a little too much. Perhaps you’ll be embarrassed about it later. But right now his tongue is brushing against your skin again, and there’s something very dizzying and hot that starts with his mouth on your neck and works its way down until it's a challenge just to stay standing. You wonder if he can tell just how weak in the knees you are right now, whether that only makes him push forward, and —

And that must be it. He must know, because you think you're trying to say something but you can't form the words, and he has to feel the reverberations with his teeth bracketing little violets on your neck, he must feel the way your legs buckle, how you're held up only by the weight of him behind you.

He must know.

He pushes forward, his fingers bury in your hair, and he pulls your head back slowly — not necessarily to expose you further, but to better see your face. Your eyes lock with his over your shoulder, and there's that hunger there, lips swollen with the print of you... and his voice, when he speaks, is as if he's only barely stopping himself. “Do you want me to stop?"

You shake your head before you think he’s actually finished the question, swallowing the cotton-dry feeling in your throat. No, no — him stopping is the very last thing you want — you feel entirely rational and not at all melodramatic in saying you might just die if he stops. You want more, and he's looking at you like that’s the only thing he’s ever wanted.

He bites down gently on your neck, and you gasp as your knees finally go out from under you (you almost think he planned for this with how quickly he catches you), and you wonder if he'll do something you can't bear; if you'll be reduced to a mewling, drooling mess before he's finished with you.

Your fourth observation — which really is the last one you can muster before it starts to melt into something else — is that you make him human in the only way he can understand: panting into him, fingers in his skin, white-hot and damp at the centre of his obsession. The object of his affection. You make him understand something more singular than ambition. 

Want.

And then his spare hand is dipping past your skirts, and you dig your fingers into his wrist — the combination of the hardness pressed against your back, his hands marking a path to forbidden territory, his finger curling into your mouth as his lips continue their assault on your neck — it's too much. It’s deliriously, disastrously not enough. Your vision is starting to blur.

His fingers stop at the curve where your thighs part and you bite gently down on him to quiet the noise that wants to escape you. He hums against your throat, continuing to kiss and lick and bruise you. You're dazedly aware of the cool air on your thighs as your skirts halo your waist, the heat inside, the shudder as his fingers find your core, and carefully begin to circle you. You feel self-consumed, immolated, devoured and spat out again. You feel like you're still falling, and Tom is the only force that keeps you standing.

He draws in slow, expert patterns — and you think, nonsensically, somewhere very distant where you still have sense, that they can’t be expert, he must have read something or observed some — oh. He’s pushing the thin fabric aside until his fingers are pressed directly against your flesh, and he makes a satisfied noise in the back of his throat as the evidence of how much you need this soaks his fingers, as they begin to sink in without resistance. Oh. Right. You don’t remember exactly what you were saying. 

You gasp at the feeling of having him inside when they finally curl into you. 

His finger is pulled from your mouth with a small pop, and you can’t even really muster the capacity to be embarrassed by the lewd, wet sound of it. He watches you over your shoulder, at his fingers vanished between your legs, at the drool clinging to the digit he’d quieted you with. He’s smiling into your neck now, proud and grateful all the same.

“Mine,” you think he murmurs, but it’s more something you feel than hear, some vague, hazy consonants pressed to your throat. It would be very like him, so you decide that yes, that’s probably what he said. And there’s something funny about it — the idea of being his — about what it means for him to want you so badly that he says it out loud. It feels a little bit like he’s yours, too.

Tom’s breathing is harsh, the fingers inside you moving as if they have a will of their own. Every muscle in your body constricts and squeezes around them; every cell, every neuron, comes roaring to life; and you’re fucked. You’re so completely fucked. His teeth scrape against you again, wholeheartedly pleased. This is what he wanted to see — the utter loss of you — when you are nothing but sensation, barely aware of your limbs as they slump against him. Tom is it; Tom is the only thing you can think of.

Tom is, inexplicably, upsettingly good at this.

“Look at you," he says softly. And his touch changes; it becomes slower, more deliberate and careful.

You’re trembling hopelessly. The way you coil and collapse under his touch is just further encouragement. He doesn't even bother to speak anymore, only pants, his eyes half-lidded, his lips swollen and slick when they attach to your throat again. Your whole body is on fire, and he's the one setting you alight — there is not a single inch of you that is not alive with the feeling of him, and you can barely breathe through the slow, heavy rush of it. 

You think you cry at the divine curve of his fingers carving inside you, slow and soft and then intense — when you grip his arm for more friction, and one of his hands is coming up to wipe a tear away but the feeling flares in your abdomen and you're only half aware of it, really — you think your eyes have rolled back. You think you've gone somewhere else. 

He keeps you just on the precipice, just shy of losing control, just far enough to leave you craving for more.

“To—Tom," you sob, gasps cleaving his name in two — you're on the brink of something incomprehensible, building inside you to something you can't help but think is about to shatter, your eyes clenching shut as you grip him so hard you're certain your fingers will leave marks. “I'm gonna—"

“I know," he breathes against your neck, hands running a familiar path along your body; he's so very, very proud that he's made you like this. He just barely bites into the spot above your collar, curls his fingers, and then you’re falling — something unfurls inside you and can’t be collected, something hot and depthless that your hands can’t clutch at from where they’re clinging so desperately to him — and you think, coming down from it with trembling, debilitating ecstasy, that he looks very much like he’d be proud to make you like this over and over again.

You're flattened, and that triumph in his eyes — the absolute satisfaction of seeing you this way, of knowing that that he's the one that did it to you — that feeling fills your mind and makes you collapse even more, makes you want to melt and flow into liquid at his feet; to give in, do whatever he says, even if all he says is just be like this for him.

He slowly removes his fingers as you come down, and your eyes are blinking for focus when he turns you around, his thumb coming up to brush over your bottom lip and you sigh at the taste of yourself as he pushes it inside your mouth. His other hand brushes away the damp, stray hairs that have fallen across your face, almost reverently, a silent worship as he takes you in, appreciates everything you just gave him.

He smiles gently at your half-blinking, half-vacant expression, his thumb still in your mouth; he watches you for a long moment in silence. His eyes are heavy-lidded and he's got a small quirk at the corner of his mouth as he pulls his thumb away and swipes it once more over your lip.

You're still not quite sure you can find words. Still not sure they'd form right as your tongue darts over the residue of Tom's finger and you flush impossibly hotter at the feeling of your own arousal on your mouth. Tom fixes your hair behind your ears and it doesn't seem like he's ready to stop taking you in in this state — your hair wild,  lips swollen, throat bruised and dress askew — and he leans in so tenderly it startles you, pressing a faint, almost imperceptible kiss to your forehead.

“Tell Godefrey he’ll be needing a new study partner. I think you’ll find yourself committed elsewhere." And with that he turns on his heel, perfectly composed, and disappears into the darkness of the midnight corridor.

Oh God, you think, and you’re too stunned to even react as you watch him vanish. It takes you a moment before you regain your senses, and you can only just manage to sputter out a breathless, miserable sigh into the air before you.

You are so completely, utterly fucked.

[jmdbjk]

Privates First Class Park Jimin and Jeon Jungkook: Our first real look.

Jimin and Jungkook. I know, I'm being insufferable but I can't NOT dwell on them a little more. Festa activities will make us move past this so fast as things always do in BTS Army life.

But you don't realize how much is bottled up or how starving you've been until you finally get to feast on that one thing you've been missing. That didn't sound very appealing and I'm not really that pathetic (its mostly the busy-ness inside my head) but you know what I mean, right? I've missed them soooo much!

Military life seems to have been going well for them. Since January we've had very little news about them. Just military blips here and there... training with U.S. Marines... kitchen police... cooking rice... cleaning from top to bottom... learning to aim big-ass missiles and hitting targets and living on rations for a week. Even receiving recognition for outstanding service.

Almost every day I imagine them doing their daily duties and all... but there was little to go by. And that's fine. Some of those things I don't want to think about. But that's what they are doing every day.

Seeing them in real time in the flesh is very reassuring.

One thing that was noticeable to me is that Jimin and Jungkook did not look like their usual sleepy-head selves they are at that time of the morning. But they both looked strong and composed. Going to bed every night like a normal person and getting a good night's sleep is a healthy habit they will probably break the moment they are discharged.

Jimin... just wow. His hair grew out. No more buzz cut. But also, the duality continues:

Someone posted a comparison pic of Jimin's painted nails and a close up of his hands which now have what look like healed spots on his hands and knuckles and scuffed nails... I don't have the pic but it shows how he's fully immersed in his military duties. Hands do get beat up somewhat when you work with them a lot.

Jungkook looked amazing.

Jungkook's little burn scars... that damn edge of the oven or hot pan will get you when you least expect it! Got him twice too! Ouchie! I hope it didn't bother him for too long. To the infirmary!

He'll get Polyc to cover that up with a new tattoo. Or maybe design one around it to highlight Jungkook's battle scars he received while an enlisted man.

One thing they are most likely gaining now is self-confidence in the ability to do something NOT in their wheelhouse. Leading people or working with people who are not the ones they used to see day in and day out for ten years. Learning new skills, being part of a different team, doing different things can be enriching and will enhance other parts of their lives.

Not being with the people who are paid to be there to make sure they look good and every whim is taken care of....the isolation had to be culture shock for them. Knowing they are together, that center of familiarity when they are faced with something new, is a great source of comfort.

Jimin and Jungkook showed up to Jin's discharge in full uniform. I will assume they arrived together straight from their base, where they must remain in their uniforms at all times.

Hugs all around. Jimin's are the best, most heartfelt hugs.

Jimin and Tae's hug... I felt that shit. The squeeze, the "no, don't let go yet," the fullness of it. They mean a lot to each other. I know they've always been close, they've told us so, they've reminded us they speak to each other often even when they weren't working as a group.

And I'm sorry but the awkward side hug between Tae and JK was not "tHeY jUsT sPeNt TiMe ToGeThEr." Be for real. Are you fucking blind? That was Tae saying "bro, didn't realize you walked up behind me, are you not gonna hug me too?" And JK going "oh, well, ok if you insist, bro (since you won't let go of my wrist)."

No, Jimin and Jungkook did not hug each other... they just got out of the car that they rode in from their base where they live together. Where they showered and got dressed and ate breakfast together before getting in the car. It is perplexing how that is even a question I see people put out there.

There was curiosity as to whether Jimin and Jungkook were on day leave or what and initially seeing them in uniform the first assumption is that they might be only on temporary day leave and would have to return to base that evening. But then we got the group pic at the Hybe building and Jimin and Jungkook had changed clothes. From what I understand, when a soldier is on day leave, they must remain in uniform AT ALL TIMES during that day. No quick change into some other clothes for a while. REMAIN IN UNIFORM AT ALL TIMES NO MATTER WHAT. So them being in civvies tells us they are on vacation/days off. We don't know how much time they took off but perhaps they won't go back to the base until Monday.

During their days off they will probably separate and go do their own thing. Maybe they will take time to go to Busan and visit fam. Most likely, Jungkook will go check on the progress of the Itaewon house construction (the exterior of JK's new house is black and it will have a tiny balcony that faces the street and appears to have some livable rooftop space). Jungkook may visit Bam. They may visit their other friends. Since the entire group was there, they most likely shared how they were doing and most likely talked about next year.

The delulu mode has activated...

[sweetheartturtle2007]

Hihi!! I'm back again, I was wondering if you could do cg hc for Chris and Martin from Wild kratts? Agere maybe a little petre? (White tiger) Also, a tiny thing I imagine is that we would play in tiger creature power suits! And go on adventure in the tiger creature power suits!!

I've recently restarted watching wild Kratts soon you're in perfect timing! 🐾👬

They're both big brother caregivers, nobody can tell me otherwise.

They love to take you out on adventures with them, although aviva has to keep an eye out for them because of all the trouble they get themselves into.

Of course that doesn't mean that they're not responsible, you're always holding hands with Chris or martin when you're out.

They gave you a little notebook that you always bring on your adventures so that way you can write down everything you learn from animals.

Talking about books, they have gifted you lots of books about different animals from the ocean, forest, dessert, etc.

They both always carry a backpack where they have all the stuff they need for missions and they have another one where they keep all your stuff(bottles,blankies,snacks,books,toys,etc)

Chris loves to play with you, play pretend is one of his favorites but he also loves to play with your animal plushies and toys, he takes you out to play in the sun and go on search of new animals.

Whenever you and Chris come back from playing, you're both covered in dirt or mud, completely desalinated and tired from all the running and jumping you both do whenever you play.

Martin likes playing with you like that as well but he prefers to play and teach you at the same time. He gets you lots of activity books and enciclopedias. You both are always sitting at the table doing activity books, reading stories or coloring, all of that while having some delicious juice 🧃 and snacks (mostly cookies)

In the morning, one of the two Kratts is always holding your sleepy self in his arms while the other is cooking breakfast.

When aviva gave you your first power suit, they were both tearing up cause, THEY'RE SO PROUD OF YOU.

They loved when you turned into a white tiger, they immediately did the same as well and you 3 played for hours that day.

You'll be learning a lot about white tigers 🐯

The Kratts will prepare a little corner for you to play with your power suit. It's filled with toys and plushies.

Chris like to play chase with you while you're on your power suit, you'll chase him around turtle and tackle him to the ground and tickle him.

"HAHAHA m-martin h-help ! A w-white ahahaha t-tigers attacking me hahaha" he couldn't talk because of your tickling, you just kept laughing as you played with him. You do the same with Martin and the rest of the gang.

They're keeping you away from Zach of course, not only is he a bad guy, he has tried kidnapping you once.

I like to headcanon that martin and Chris can sing really well, soooo there are lots of Lullabies when you go to sleep.

Martin is kind of strict when it comes to your sleep schedule. "Look at the time lil fangs, time for bed, no no no don't give me that face, you're going to sleep." He's not mean, he just wants you to have a goodnight sleep :(

Chris sometimes lets you off, "what's so bad about missing some hours of sleep?" Yeah...he had to deal with your grumpy sleepy self the next morning and also get scolded by martin.

I also headcanon that they both like to eat healthy, so they prepare tasty and healthy meals for you.

Nicknames: martin: lil one, tiger, lil fangs Chris: squirt,lil adventurer, tiggy(tiger)

10/10 they're the best brother caregivers you could get.

Hope you liked this, sorry it took so long. Ive been kinda busy.

Here you go 🐯🙏💓

[inmyminditsreal]

Lego Is Life

Fem!reader x Spencer reid

Word count: 700 ish

Summary: Woken up by a very eager 8 year old daughter, Spencer and I crawl out of bed and indulge in Lego like true adults.

Warnings: sweetnessss

I'm supa tired so if this is rusty IM SORRRY!! also sorry i haven't posted in like 30 years. been tired and focused on school!! Hope you enjoy

Enjoyyyy!!!!

Spencer had just finished a case and as soon as he got home, he almost fell asleep while hugging me. I told him we should just go to bed, he agreed. So now we’re crawling into bed, finally able to get some sleep. Though, with an eight year-old daughter it’s very hard. Most nights we're woken up by bad dreams, the monster under the bed, that she puked, or that she wants to cuddle. We eventually both drift off to sleep, holding each other close. Until,

“Daddy! Come look at this!” Our daughter says as she bursts open the door. With a loud groan followed by a smile, Spencer crawls out of bed, picks her up and says,

“Where to sweetheart?"

“My bedroom!” She says with a stifled giggle. Curious as to what this mystery was, I crawl out of bed too and begin to follow them. I check my phone to see a whopping 1:37am. In the bedroom I see that Kasey has just finished building her Lego friends set.

“Awww that’s awesome sweetie.” I smile from the doorway with a yawn, and see Spencer give her a big high-five.

“I love it. Which one is this?” Spencer asks.

“This is the best waterpark ever. I call it Kasey’s Kool Slides, but cool with a k. It has all the cool characters and I can make them fight each other! It says you can add water to it! Can I?” 

“As long as you do in the living room, where there’s no carpet.” I add with a smile.

“So! Wanna play?” She zaps while looking at us with the biggest grin I've ever seen. 

We both look at each other with tired eyes and smile. “Absolutely.”

“YES! Okay so this is Emma, she’s my favourite and she likes Mia, Autumn, and Stephanie. But the other girls are their enemies! They’re the mean girls at their school.”

“Are they mean enough to give a tickle attack?” Spencer laughs as he throws her on the bed and tickles her into a fit of giggles. 

“Stop!!! Let's go to the living room and fill it with water!” She giggles as she escapes from his arms and runs down the stairs. 

“Are you sure you’re not too tired honey?” I ask Spencer, seeing his giant eyebags. 

“Of course. How could I miss out on this waterpark drama.”

I smile as he picks up the Lego set and walks down the stairs. Kasey has already cleared a big spot on the living room floor and filled a cup with water. “Are you ready?” She asks us both.

“Mhm.” I say, as we sit down by her and watch as she pours the water in with a giant smile. I watch as Spencer takes one of the characters and begins to fight with the one in her hand. She gasps and pushes his down the slide. Both of them, smiling like idiots. I join in  and they eventually tire eachother out. She collapses on top of Spencer, who has already fallen asleep on my lap. I snap a picture and gently wake him up,

“Spence, wake up its 3 in the morning. Honey, wake up.” I whisper while gently shaking his shoulder. His eyelids shutter and he looks up at me.

“Hi beautiful.” He smiles and shuffles his position.

“Don’t move!” I whisper-shout while pointing towards Kasey. He slips her into his arms, we both walk up as I pick up the lego set. In her room he sets her down on the bed and pulls the covers up slowly. She opens her eyes and smiles at us. 

“Goodnight mommy. Goodnight daddy. Can we play more tomorrow?” 

“I’ll see what I can do about that sweetheart. I love you.”  He says as he places a soft kiss on her forehead, and I do the same.

“I love you so so soooo much sweetie. Goodnight.” I whisper.

“I love you too.” She mumbles as she snuggles into her blankets. We turn out the lights and quietly shut the door. 

“She’s so cute, oh my god.” I mumble as we walk back to the room.

“So cute.” he says with a sleepy smile. I show him the picture I took of the two of them sleeping. He smiles and whispers softly,

“I love you so much.” While looking down at me. He collapses into the bed and I follow right after, crawling into his arms and drifting softly asleep.

[johannestevans]

the worst part of being an autistic laios fan is that laios is still just normal to me. Giving (seemingly) relevant information or facts on a topic just to come off as off-putting? everyday occurrence. people assigning malicious intent on your most banal of behaviors and actions? everyone's been there! beholden to unspoken rules about vague social cues? Classic!

i thought dungeon meshi was just a fantasy manga except this time they put in an ACTUALLY normal guy. nope hes just autistic ;'j

fhsdkjggsh honestly yeah, Laois is genuinely the most relatable character I've ever seen in television / read in manga, like

Laois in Dungeon Meshi for his autism and his blunt speech and the way people wilfully misinterpret everything he says and find him creepy or weird just for his love and enthusiasm is so wild, esp bc like. the extent to which Marcille shares many of his traits and his passions, but because she's sort of sleepy and softer spoken, people don't respond to her with the same coldness and aggression, and the way in which that's gendered? that doesn't feel great either!

I love the different autistic vibes and communication styles in dungeon meshi because it's soooo real, but also like. yowch with the way ppl react and respond fghkgjhg

idk if you've seen Twittering Birds Never Fly but i found Yashiro and Doumeki super relatable as well from an autistic and trauma perspective but it's a lot heavier than dungeon meshi

[blueboyinthestars]

𝐈𝐍𝐓𝐑𝐎

Hello! I'm Hamato Leonardo, the eldest of my brothers!

I am a minor, so i ask you to please not be weird!!!

any pronouns are okay, although recently i've been preferring he/him

Tags!!!

#leorambles

#🍊<3 mikey<3

#zenny<3 zen<3

#💣 <3 raph<3

#elltalks anything by me that was deemed out of character or is something that seems odd for me I guess.

#📋🖥 <3 donnie<3

#💀💣<3 Casey!! IXBSKANA >////<

#🧪👶<3 april<3333

#💙🎵 Music!!!

#❤️💜🐢 @purpleshellhaver

#❤️💥 raphie<33

#LILJELLY!! @purpleshellhaver AGAIN bc I love my Lil bro sm and I also can't take away their matching tag with his twin so he get two!!.

Let me know if either of you two don't want to be tagged!!

#sleepyleo💙 posts made when sleepy!!

MY FAMILY <3

@raphzilla

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@doctordelicate-touch you remind of an orange sweater. Your awesome.

@straighteal my baby bro<33

@blueeedevilll SILLY!?!??!!?

Tello, I already tagged not gonna make them suffer three times!!!

DNI if you support t-cest/pro-shipping, Wilbur Soot, Dream, Melanie, or being a shitty person!! TY<33

I also have an account over on spacehey under the same user that is being set up, and am connected to @blueboyinspace

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(Now some other important stuff)

I'm a sys.?

I now have discord! Not comfortable with dms until I get to know you tho.

I don't entirely understand this all and how i feelz but people's identity change all the time,

[agirlwholovesrockstars]

when the clock strikes 12

☆ EDDIE MUNSON'S MASTERLIST ☆

❣ AGATHA'S MAIN PAGE ❣

Summary : while awaiting for the new year countdown, Eddie had an idea to blow your mind

Word Count : it's for the mini fics section soooo lengthwise? probably solid

Warnings : 18+ (MDNI)SMUT‼️Eddie Munson x FEM!reader, language, slight alcohol consumption, reader and Eddie are both (20), slight somnophilia 🫠, aftercare, no use of y/n, reader is slowly waking up and Eddie asks for permission and if you're still uncomfortable with that please don't continue to read, that's just it really

What to Expect : SMUT and FLUFF, Eddie being a silly goose, set in modern era (of course, there's still a touch of 80's in there), UPSIDE DOWN & VECNA DON'T EXIST IN THIS!

Note To Reader : GIF for this because I'm missed seeing him moving on my fics lmao, also the divider is made by me hehe- I'm literally exposing myself out here, please forgive for my salacious thoughts 🙏🏻 (if you know me in real life? no- you don't 😃)

Author Note : I know I've been long gone for a while but I'm trying my best to post new fics as much as I can! there has been a lot of happenings with my life especially we're having a lot of events like family reunion 🫠 (but it's so much fun tho ngl)

The preparation for new year's is going so well

So well, that you haven't realized how tired you really are

You're so productive that you've used too much of energy on yourself for working to prepare for the party

You wanted this to be perfect

You want everything to be settled in according to your plan

Eddie knows that you're always so "serious" when it comes to decoration and especially when there's an occasion

He loves you for it though, you just don't throw parties

You throw the greatest parties all the time and you never missed

All of your friends are in there, Steve, Robin, Jonathan, Nancy, Argyle and the freaking kids that you always adored so much

You looked around at everyone in the room

Jeff and Gareth are bantering at each other with some album, Dustin and Lucas fight over which 80's fantasy film is the best, Steve, Robin and Eddie surprisingly getting along with the same pop music artist, you could see the three of them geeking at each other

Max and Jane do makeover at each other which aches your heart of seeing them so close to each other, it's really so sweet to have a real girl bestfriend like that

"I'm gonna refill your glass" Nancy pasts over to you snatching the glass on your hand so swiftly that it makes you snap out of your head

You slowly trying to register what just happened and you smile finally

"More wine? really?" You say as you watch her fill your glass with wine

"Uh, yeah?" she replies with a dramatical jerk to her head as you chuckle

"But it's only 9pm!" you exclaim with wide eyes but a fond smile on your lips

"are you saying that we should only be drinking when the clock finally strikes 12?!?" she says while she fills her cup, she takes glances at you and back to her glass

"Ah- yes, that! exactly!" you point to her using your index finger as you holding your glass of wine

You could already feel yourself getting drowsy a little bit from the wine

Red wine will always make you feel sleepy

You don't even know if it's the alcohol or you just really need to doze off for a minute before you could scream at the top of your lungs for 2024

You don't even know how many glasses that you already take

"Did we just finished the whole bottle?" You feel the world is spinning on you

Nancy, your bestfriend- raises the bottle in front of you as she snorts at your disapproval look

"Kinda?" she says slurring as she smirks at you

"What do you mean? Kinda?!"

"Hey- woah!"

Jonathan passes by and bless him for his instincts because Nancy would've been knocked her head on the counter as she starts stumbling from her stance, he catches her on time

Nancy giggled as you rolled your eyes in annoyance, massaging your forehead

He saw the look from your face as he chuckles

"She got too far again, huh?"

"Yeah, she always does, Jonathan, nothing's new" you reply as you also can't walk properly

"Wait- don't move- should I call-"

Before Jonathan can finish his words, the voice of your boyfriend booms out of nowhere while Argyle tails behind him, looking at you and Nancy

"Sweetheart- how you've-"

Eddie clocked the wine bottle from Nancy hand

"Did you dr-"

"Don't even try it, Ed's" you placed your palm over his mouth as you stumble forward, he immediately wraps his arms around you as you started pressing all of your weight against his chest making the male laugh as he gently hold the back of your head

"Y'all getting drunk already? It's not even 12am yet" Argyle with his iconic tone, you seriously have no idea which one of his voice is normal

You've never heard him talk in normal voice before so you're used to him having that voice that sounds so freaking high as fuck

But, he's a good bud tho, so hilarious

"Blame her, not me! Eddie tell them!" You defend yourself as you put your chin onto his chest as you look at him with a pout on your lips, he smiles as he ruffles his face against yours making your face scrunch up from his action, he laughs again

"What's with all of the commotion?" Steve arrives with hands on his hips

"The two got their selves drunk again" Jonathan points to you and to his girl

"As if that's new" Robin appears in the corner with her arms crossed leaning against the side of the wall

Steve chortles "Wait- you got hustled by Nancy again?"

You groaned from Steve's teasing "yeah, I always fail to see that, thanks" you say

"I told you, you shouldn't brought the wine here, you moron!" Robin uncrosses her arms finally figuring out where the wine misplaced her eyes widen when she saw Nancy holding it, she snatches it making her bite a laugh as Jonathan also connecting the dots at the scene

He pressed his lips together to not burst from laughter

Argyle watches both of his friends having a fit of unnecessary argument

"I think I need to grab a popcorn for this" he leaves abruptly as he looked at your kitchen cabinets and came back munching in a bag of popcorn, very entertained at the scene

"I-I don't know how she got it!"

"Did you hide it properly!?"

"Look- Robs-"

Robin clicks her tongue as she asks "Nancy, how did you get the wine bottle?!"

She turns around with a lopsided smile as Jonathan steadys her

"I just saw it hanging around but-"

"But?"

"I think Steve" she points at him as she chuckles making the boy winces as he finally remembered of what he's done

"Forgotten about it that he left it out there, soooo" she giggles again making Robin grumble as she raises both of her eyebrows at Steve

"Oh- come on!" Steve runs his fingers through his hair as he decides to turn back leaving all of you

"Hey! don't you walk out on me! I paid for that expensive shit-" Robin follows him as she starts pointing everything on him

Argyle, Jonathan, Nancy and Eddie all laughing at the scene while meanwhile you, Eddie could hear you chuckle a bit but you made a little hum

He draws back his attention at you, he looks down at you

"I think I need to doze off for a minute" you say to him with your sleepy eyes

He smiles as he kisses the top of your head he put his arms around you "Yeah, sure"

Eddie says to Jonathan and the rest that you and him will be out for a while, they all nod and said "Don't be late for the countdown"

Your boyfriend leads you to your bedroom as you throw yourself at your bed as he closes the door walking towards you, you lay behind your back as you stretch your whole body, Eddie chuckles at your tipsy behavior

"I love my bed"

"Yeah, you always do"

"Uh huh"

He snickers "Okay, honey, are you well? are you sober?" He leans down at you

"Eddie- you know the alcohol hits harder at Nancy right?"

"I'm just checking you know to see if my girl's alright" he shrugs as he put his hands inside of his pockets

"I'm very much, okay, eds- I'm sssleepy" you yawn as you feel your eyes dropping until it shuts completely

He chuckles as he shakes his head he leans down as he kisses your forehead you smile at the gesture as it makes you even heavier to fall asleep

Eddie watches you sleep as he stands over at the window

The neighborhood outside is quite a watch, everyone is having fun, everyone is having a blast

The music outside is dull but he can hear all of his friends laughter and the screams of excitement from them

He shifts from where he standing as he tears off his eyes from the outside of your window and goes back at you

You turned on the other side, so you're now facing him as you snuggle against your pillow

Eddie smiles to himself, he feels so good having you in his life

He walks towards you as he moves the fallen hair strand on your face

His eyes softens as he sats down beside you

You stirred up from the movement on the bed as you try to open your eyes, you smiled when you realized it's Eddie

You pulled him closer beside you as he lets you take him laying down with you

He put his other arm over you as you cuddled against his chest almost hugging him in the process

You feel more cozier and even more sleepier than before

The moment you move your leg over to his

Your skirt rise up exposing more bare skin to him, his breath hitches at the sight of it

He looks down at you, he double thinked- maybe- it's a bad idea to do this but he wants you so badly right now

He shouldn't even be thinking that you will get mad because hell-

You trust him

So.....

He starts sinking down beside you, you moved slightly as he continues to do his work

He plants hot kisses over your neck when finds your sweet spot- you hum lightly

He's now on top of you, holding your hips, he's positioning you laying on your back, your head is on the side, still sleeping peacefully

He goes over to your chest, you're wearing tube top with a zipper in front, so he has a access to your bare chest, he kisses more and more

Your body couldn't even register what's going on

You felt hot and cold all over because of the midnight's weather and from your body heating up from the tension that your boyfriend is giving you

You feel him going lower and lower but you can still feel your eyes tired

He watches your soft heaves from chest rising up and down, his eyes darkened when he puts his hand inside of your skirt, he slowly reaches at the hem of your panties

He licks his lips, your skin feels on fire because of his fingertips, your stir from your sleep once again but still not opening your eyes

He doves onto your lips, kissing you, and you hummed as you lazily kissed him back

"May I?"

You move your head onto the other side, you catch a glimpse of the clock, it says 11:20pm

"Ed's, we might get late-" even though, you want him to do it

"Please"

You're not even opening your eyes yet but you can see his pleading eyes being directed at you

"Yes, Eddie, you can have me, take it all" you sank down further making Eddie groaned when his fingers touched your center, it's drenched

He hook his fingers on your underwear along with your skirt discarded on the floor

You shudder at the cool air as Eddie positioning himself comfortably

He smears kisses on the inside of your thighs as he goes closer and closer to your core

You moved your head on the other way as you try to close your legs when you can't help but feel the arousal that's coming in

But he places his palms on the sides of your legs spreading you open as you can feel of your insides burning from his touch

His hands are everywhere, when the moment he swiped his fingers at your core, you released lewd noises as your breathing goes quicker

He licked his finger cleaning it off with his tongue, he grins down at you

He holds your hips as he leans down

"Ed-"

Before you can finish your sentence, he doves down lapping at your juices as you gasp from his sudden action

His eyes are glued to you as he continues to do his work, watching your once peaceful slumber turns into pleasure

He devours you so satisfying that it's making you close your legs, he smirks as you can feel his tongue go lower inside, you mewled

He holds you tightly as you grip on the sheets, he sucked more and more of you until your can feel your legs shake

You can feel his hand reaching on the hem of your top, you slightly open your eyes as you find the zipper as you pull it down

He grunts when he saw your breasts that he worships everyday, you loved the way he admires your body

You're now naked so divinely displayed for him

His free hand kneads your boobs as you moaned, he dives back down as he starts to bully your clit

You can feel your body tremble from the sensation forming up in your stomach

You reached for his hair as you pull it making his eyes grow hungrier and eats you like man starved for days

"Oh- Eddie-"

He carries the back your butt as his tongue digs deeper earning a squeal from you when he reaches the spot that you didn't know it existed

Your eyes are heavy-lidded, you try to watch him but you can't when your brain can't place your emotions whether is melatonin or oxytocin

you're not sure at this point but hella you feel so fucking amazing right now

He abruptly stops and when he does, you finally open your eyes

"Wha- what- don't stop!" You whine

"What about the countdown?" His lips are covered with your slick and his saliva altogether not caring a single shit that it's literally dripping down on his chin

You gasp at it as you moaned, he chuckles darkly, you know what he's doing he's teasing you

"Do you know that you're frickin' beautiful without even trying?" He goes at his usual antics as you beg for him to come back down

"Eddie, please!"

"Not until you see stars"

"What-"

Before you can utter another word, he goes back in but this time he places your legs over his shoulders another spectacular angle making you shiver from his touches yet again

He grips your legs, thighs, arms, your belly, he squeezes your boobs and it's literally fucking everywhere

One thing, you know it's for certain that you really would unashamedly come from his simple touches

He pokes his tongue down on you but when he curled it, you chant his name like a prayer, you have the ability to scream his name without being caught in action inside of the room because of the loud noises from the people and the music

Your eyes burn from the threatening tears but Eddie is not having it, he wanted you to fall apart completely for him

You moaning louder and louder when he swipes his tongue on your entrance when he puts your legs down on the bed

"You're still not seeing it, I see"

"D-Don't stop- please"

He opens your legs again as he resume to his mission, he tongue fucks you as he digs in and out, you squirm at it as he starts picking up the pace as you let out a ragged breath

Goddamn, he is killing you right now, you can already die right then and there heavenly

Your mouth falls open without noise coming out of them as you yank his hair, he growls as you couldn't believe that he could reach every spot inside of you

You arched your back as you start grinding against his face, his eyes flashes devilishly mischief as he didn't stop this time

He laps once more until you cry out his name

You jolted when the fireworks exploded booming the entire neighborhood

You come on his tongue as the same time the fireworks started

Your legs are spent, you feel boneless but a sickly smile is now sitting on your lips

He let you get back on earth for a while as he cleans you up, he dresses you up not leaving single skin left behind without his kisses

"You saw it, huh?" He grins like a devil that he is but you love him, he holds the door open for you letting you first outside

You saw all of your friends jumping on to the music and celebrated very happily

"I did" you admit ignoring the rosy tint on your cheeks "and it was much more better"

"Than?" He throws his arms around your shoulders

"The fireworks" you smile as he chuckles as he kisses the top of your head as he squeezes you to his side

[merakiui]

Omg that last thought tickled about sick reader w trey tickled me soooooooo good 😭

I raise you this!!! Darling hates the taste of medicine, so trey tells her he'll use his unique magic disguise it to have the flavour of her favourite juice. Little does she know, trey has literally just been giving her juice and lying about it being medicine the whole time 😭😭

Omggg and visits to Doctor Riddle??? Riddle is totally in on the whole thing and is secretly giving trey advice on how to keep you jussttt sick enough to keep you entirely dependent on him without putting you in any true danger. Maybe the two of them really crank up the dramatics by helping you to slowly get better, and then as soon as you start to misbehave too much, it's back to square one.

Sometimes your head gets so loopy and gone that while you let trey bathe you, you're not entirely aware of everything he's doing to your body 😭😭

You and that anon are so big brained for this. I really like this trope because I've always been quite sickly (it's something that seems to run in my family.) When I don't feel well I'm literally soooo whiney and clingy and I *need* someone to hold me, and I get the feeling that trey, Floyd, Riddle and rook in particular are the ones who would eat that shit up

OOOOOO YES YES OTL

It’s such a good trope, especially for Trey and (doctor) Riddle! They’re so logical and level-headed most of the time, but rational thought is thrown out the window when you come into the picture. Trey has done so much for Riddle, so Riddle feels as if he needs to return the favor somehow, even if that means compromising your health for the sake of returning goodwill. And you have to trust Doctor Riddle because of his credentials! He’s a doctor! He’d never lie to you! It’s his job to help you get better, and sometimes you do get better. But then you’ll push Trey away when he tries to get close to you or you’ll try to run away; and now you’re bedridden once again. :( it’s a vicious cycle you fail to realize because you’re so certain you just have poor health.

Omg and being unaware while Trey bathes you because your head is so foggy and you’re so sleepy… aaaaa normally Trey tries to be good and keep his hands to himself. He doesn’t want to do anything you might dislike him for, but you’re so out of it when you sit in the bath, leaning against the wall and closing your eyes. And he’s so tempted to do more than just washing. He limits himself to lingering touches when you’re in this state, his fingers never going any further than he intends them to. Though he wants to feel more of you, preferably inside you, he holds himself back. He likes you, and sometimes he feels guilty about that because he likes you too much.

Or maybe he holds himself back for all of one week before he realizes he can successfully get away with more than just groping. :) maybe he even knocks you up during one of these times and neither of you realize it until Trey starts suspecting it when you exhibit certain symptoms; and now suddenly your health is no longer declining. Now you have to be healthy and well for the baby, and Trey and Riddle can no longer keep you sick, lest they somehow harm the baby with their interferences.

Omg I agree that Rook and Floyd also work for this trope! Although I also feel like Jade enjoys it just a little more than Floyd. Floyd likes it when you’re needy and clingy; Jade likes the idea of being in total control of you when he intentionally makes you sicker and weaker. I also think Vil would be good for this trope! He knows his way around poisons and curses. :) he could easily utilize this knowledge to keep you just weak enough to rely on and love him while still allowing you to feel like yourself most of the time.

[moodywyrm]

vi kissing your back in the sweetest way ever ✨️

oh yeah!!! she is soooo soft I love her <3 also I've been getting a lot of like aftercare/morning after request so we're gonna put this on in the same vein. college vi, the same au from "no breakdowns here"

I imagine that Vi, when she's safe and comfortable in a space, is not the one who wakes up first. she's a sleepy girl! so the morning after really intimate, intense sex, she is out like a light. delivers and receives aftercare and then she is fucking Out man, snoozing. so you wake up before her, taking a second to admire just how soft she looks in the morning light. everything about her is just softer, her hair is less intense, all mussed up and drooping around her face, her face is relaxed, her mouth a lil bit open and her eyelashes brushing against her cheeks. she's so fucking pretty. you take your time admiring her before deciding to get up, wanting to have breakfast ready by the time she's up.

so u walk into the kitchen, in her sweats and a sports bra. your back is exposed to the fresh morning air as your open up the windows in her apartment. you're standing at her stove, cooking up sausage and eggs for your strong girl when she slumps into the room, immediately clinging to you.

"goodmorning vi, how're you feeling baby?"

she hums, pressing a kiss to your neck, " 'morning princess, making us breakfast? how'd I get so lucky," smiling against the back of your neck and trailing kisses down to your back, placing some smooches across your shoulders. her arms are warm around your waist, her hands massaging at your tummy, and she's being so touchy that you can't help but giggle at the touch.

"mmm I'm the lucky one, now go sit down honey," but she doesn't let go!! no!! she just clings harder, pressing more kisses to you. you have to finish cooking like that, because she Only lets go when you hand her plate of food that she fuckign Inhales before going straight back to holding you. what can I say, she's a clingy girl! loves holding you!

[suddencolds]

sending u a star!! ⭐️ sorry i wanted to go thru and pick a specific fic but im too sleepy lol but any yvescent piece u had thoughts on :D

[from Fanfic Writers - Director's Cut]

hello!!! THANK YOU N, IT MADE ME REALLY HAPPY TO RECEIVE THIS 🥹🥹🥹

I also realize am responding to this like 2 months late :') I thought for a long time on which fic to comment on, and now that I've posted Atypical Occurrence pt. 2, I thought I might as well write out my thoughts on it while they're still fresh and bc it's close to my heart (I hope that's okay hehe)

—

⚠️❗️ Warning that I will be attaching snippets from my deleted drafts below!! Please read the published installment before you proceed to read this post. This is a little embarrassing... all I can say is that those drafts were deleted for a reason 🥴

—

There’s a grocery store that’s a ten minute drive from Vincent’s apartment. 

I rewrote this scene... 3 or 4 times? It gave me sooo much trouble 😭 I think in the first draft Vincent actually tears up tasting Yves's cooking. (I know, Vincent, I want Yves to cook for me too 😭❗️)

Terrible (ugh 😭) first draft screenshot under the cut (screenshot = old draft, indented quote = current draft):

(Yves pulling up a chair at the end... you can tell he is totally at a loss on what to do 😭 and I, too, was at a loss on what to do)

I wrote this ^, and I was like... this moment just feels unearned? I personally despise outlining + I love going in (mostly) blind. Sometimes the first draft works out of the box, and in this case, the first draft (and the second draft, and the third draft) were all soooo bad that I literally had to take a month-long break to regain my confidence 😭

Anyways! I knew right away that Y was going to cook something for V (it's mentioned here and there throughout the series that he is a really good cook 😭 And in part 3 of Fool Me Twice, Yves promises to make Vincent something more ambitious than hot chocolate. He's finally kept his promise now, 12 installments later 🙇‍♀️ )

From draft 2, there was only one scene which I was sure I was going to include in the final draft, aka, spared from the recycling bin. (But I just checked the final draft and it's nowhere to be seen?? Interesting.)

I would have managed fine on my own.

On this (deleted) scene, and more broadly: I think it's important to me that Yves recognizes that Vincent is self-sufficient in many ways: when Vincent says he will be fine alone, he is telling the truth. Yves doesn't have to stay—he recognizes this too, when he heads for the door in the published draft.

Still, Yves stays, of course—initially, because he insists, and later, because Vincent asks :)

“…You won’t leave unless I eat, then,” Vincent says. He says it evenly enough that it barely registers as a question. Yves smiles at him. It’s not a wrong conclusion. “Exactly,” he says.

It was really, really fun writing the differences between caretaker!Vincent (in Fool Me Twice pt. 5) and caretaker!Yves 😊 I usually don't like to say too much on the end of character analysis, bc I like my work to be interpreted as it is: the text is canon, and everything I'm saying here is just me yapping on about my headcanons. (I have been roasted for saying this by a dear friend of mine, probably rightfully so:)

With that disclaimer: Vincent to me (I can only speculate, etc) is a very no-bullshit caretaker (he likes to enforce whatever will lead most directly to the person's recovery; he actually worries a lot, but his worry often manifests as frustration/snappishness), whereas Yves is a lot more permissive and, for the most part, manages his stress—he is the eldest sibling, after all! I think he does what he can to make it a more tolerable experience :)

“So this is just a Yves thing.” “What? Showing consideration for my friends?”  “Showing consideration is one thing,” Vincent answers. “You could have left after dropping off the files. You would still have been showing your consideration.” “I guess that’s true. But at that point, I was already here,” Yves says, with a shrug. “It seemed logical to check up on you.” “Well, now you’ve checked up on me,” Vincent says. “So you can go.” Yves supposes this is true.

Vincent takes things very literally (and I think he's actually quite aware of the social niceties around these kinds of things, which is in part why he is so skeptical to assume that Yves means anything more.)

There’s a hand on his sleeve, tugging. Yves goes very still. When Vincent notices what he’s done, alarm flashes through his expression, and he pulls his hand away as if he’s burned.  “Sorry,” he murmurs, again. And just like that, he’s back to how he always is—his expression perfectly, carefully neutral, in a way that can only be constructed. “I’m sorry.” But Yves doesn’t forget what he’s seen. “You can go.”

This scene means a lot to me!! It took a loooot of editing to hammer into place (the doc I wrote it on is titled "fixing this scene would FIX ME" haha). I think this is the first time Vincent has actively sought out Yves's comfort 😭 And he regrets it almost as soon as he's said it, because he does not do things without a good justification, and wanting something—even wanting it badly—does not feel like a sufficient justification to him. But give Yves an inch and he will take a mile!! He will take a hundred miles!! That is just the kind of person that Yves is.

I was talking with some friends previously about how I wanted to write Vincent reaching out for Yves. How I wanted Vincent to, through the haze of fever, cross a line that he'd previously not allowed himself to cross :') I think it is a time-old trope to have someone, in their feverish delirium, utter something embarrassing and utterly uncharacteristic of them, or divulge something that has been difficult for them to say.

This whole time drafting, I was thinking, how can I set up a moment like that and have it feel earned? How badly would he have to be feeling? What kind of setup would justify getting past his 590859 mental defenses? (I do not like to outline, but sometimes I do have an emotional beat that I have in mind, and then I have to work backwards to figure out the setup. This took SO much working back from, and I really thought about it for very long). I was almost sure that Vincent would regret it immediately after too 😭

Yves opens his arms out in offering, tries on a smile. “I’ve been told I give good hugs. Good enough to cure all ailments, obviously.”

Ahh, so Y offering V a hug is inspired by a fic I read 6 years ago, where a character offers another a hug as a joke and then the other character surprises them by taking it. Yves is really offering here, but I think he recognizes that joking about it will make it easier for Vincent to accept 😭

Yves has hugged a fair share of people in his life. He doesn’t think he’d be able to list them all if he were asked to. It’s different, though, being so close to Vincent—so close that Yves can reach out and let his hair fall through his fingertips. He can lift up his palm and feel the rigid line of his spine, the slope of his shoulders; he could reach out and trace the dip of his wrist, the form of his hand. Vincent’s chin digs slightly into his left shoulder. His nose is turned slightly into Yves’s neck—like this, he is almost perfectly still. Yves can feel the warm brush of air against his neck whenever Vincent exhales. He is so close that Yves is afraid, for a moment, that he might hear how badly his heart is racing.

I have nothing to say about this paragraph except that I edited it for like 40 minutes straight.

Last thing!!

“We had a habit of keeping the heat off, in the winters, and closing the windows.”

The scene near the end (where Vincent tells Yves about his childhood) is actually the scene which came the most easily to me. I also did not write it last; I jumped around. It took me around 1.5 hours. (By comparison, simply editing the scene before it took 11 😵‍💫)

I did always intend for Vincent to disclose... well, /something/ about himself. (You can tell that when I plan, that's really as far as I plan LOL)

Anyways, when Vincent wakes Yves up (after Yves falls asleep at his desk), I initially wrote it so that Yves wakes Vincent from a nightmare.

But (as direct a link to vulnerability as that might have been,) Vincent would not talk about his nightmare 😭 So I switched gears.

I also specifically wanted to write about Vincent's experience being cared for growing up. I think something that's culturally resonant with me (as an Asian American, and the eldest daughter to immigrant parents) is like, the ways families can and cannot say I love you—the quiet things that are done in place of a more direct expression of it. The way that while unspoken consideration can speak volumes, it can just as easily be invisible. But even now, writing this post, I feel like it's difficult for me to untangle the feelings and experiences I've had into something that feels sufficiently multifaceted.

Vincent has a different childhood from I do (it is probably worth noting that I do not project onto any of my characters, nor do I use them as a vessel to get my own experiences across). I think I'm just drawn to writing tricky/non-straightforward expressions of love, in general :) Sometimes that is the kind of love that resonates with me most.

[ontosgold]

I LOVE the way you drew ryomina they are soooo 🥺💖🥰🥺🥺🥰🥰🥺🥺💖💖

Curious, I would love to know if you have more personal headcanons for them! I love your art of Minato wearing glasses

Good luck in uni!!!! Hope you have an amazing day/night ^^

THANK YOU ANON :D !!!!!

and yes I have a few more hcs !! thanks for asking hehe now i get to ramble >:)

I have some hcs regarding fashion and such !! I've kinda been thinking about this a bunch ever since I made those casual outfits for ryoji

-ryoji loves expressing himself through fashion, he really enjoys experimenting with clothes and discovering his style

-he likes going on shopping outings with yukari (minato has been dragged along a lot as well) (yukamitsu ryomina double shopping dates !!)

-ryoji's a big fan of yellow and also just any bright colours that go well with it. he's a bright and colourful boy :>

-minato never really cared much about fashion or style, a t-shirt is usually just good enough for him (his style is just. if its comfy and it looks nice then its good) and he's not a fan of bright colours or anything that makes him stand out too much. ryoji's been trying to get him to experiment a bit

and here's some of my more general hcs for them ^_^

-ryoji's a lot quieter when its just him and minato and minato smiles more around ryoji (minato is completely unaware of how much he smiles in ryojis presence and he'll get a lil embarrassed if someone points it out)

-minato's sleepy and tired all of the time. chronically sleepy (<- lol). god's sleepiest soldier. but he feels super comfortable having naps around ryoji. sleeping when he's nearby just feels safe.

-if ryoji and minato are hanging out at the dorm together, there is a fairly high chance that minato will end up asleep.

-also i like to imagine that if the two of them have a movie night at the dorm, they'll both end up asleep by the end with koromaru all cosied up with them too (<- i should draw this sometime)

-minato's super introverted. while he loves spending time around the ppl he cares about, he only has so much energy for socialising. ryoji is the one person minato can spend all his day around without draining the social battery

-also minato's a pretty quiet guy, he's a man of little words. he prefers to listen to people, rather than be the one leading the conversation. and bcs ryoji and mina know eachother like they know themselves, they don't always need to communicate verbally. I like to think they spend a lot of their time sitting in comfortable silence together

-ryoji's super fascinated and interested by all the simple joys in life. whenever he's out with minato he'll point out things like pretty flowers, birds, the way the clouds look. and they'll stop to admire the sunset if they're out late. and of course minato takes a lot of interest in the things ryoji points out to him :>

also i hc ryoji as bi and minato as greyromantic ace ^_^ !! ryoji and minato's relationship is something so much more than a typical romantic relationship to me