#last time i wrote anything large on paper

[pupika-samika]

They don't do writing assignments like they used to

I remember back in 6th grade I had a creative writing assignments. I had to use 10 sheets of paper, front and back, to write my full story. We only used the laptop to write our final draft and print it out and even then, we'd be lucky if our teacher allowed that

Laptop day was a privilege. Laptop day meant we didn't have to write and could watch videos instead of our teacher. Laptop day meant we could sneakily play games while our teacher wasn't watching only to get caught because we were smiling and laughing

Nowadays, kids have laptops they bring home. I just talked with my friends younger brother who's in 6th grade and they do everything in computers. My friends brother has terrible handwriting and barely knows how to spell without autocorrect

I think incorporating technology in school is an amazing idea but when will the line be crossed on incorporating it into daily schooling versus having a computer be a child's brain for all 12 years of schooling

[lanadelreyscokewhor3]

DISEASE- P.B PARKER

Pairing- Peter x Fem! Reader (friends to lovers)

Word Count: 3.8k

Summary: You and your friend group head up to Peters infamious ski lodge weekend getaway, the same as every year. Except this year, theres tension in the air, and a masked man on the loose. Your actions have consequences....

(UNTIL DAWN INSPIRED) (but u dont need to play the game to read:) )

Warnings: SMUT, lowkey darkish peter, dumbification kink, mocking, size kink, fingering, teasing, creampie, swearing, foreplay? (peter gets off on y/n getting scared), mentions of booze and implications of torture

Notes: since the revamped verison of until dawn came out my obsession has came back full force, so i wrote a fic with marvel characters as if they were in until dawn! i wrote this in one sitting lol. its not lore accurate but..love josh washington.. so of course peter must be him....

"could play the doctor, i can cure your disease/ if you were a sinner, i could make you believe/ lay you down like one, two, three/ eyes roll back in ecstasy/ i can smell your sickness, i can cure ya/ cure your disease"- disease, lady gaga

You stared in dismay at the thin piece of paper that fluttered in the wind, barely clinging to the large iron gate by a thin piece of tape.

“Gate Broken. Climb over. -Steve”

Taking a breath, you gathered your wits about you, grumbling the whole way over to the side of the wall where the stone sides had started to crumble, giving you access to climb up and over. This was not the way you wanted to start your weekend getaway at Peters lodge, but it seemed you had no choice.

First your bus was late due to black ice, then your bag had dropped in the deep snow, the fabric dripping cold drips of water down your thin jacket. And now this.

Would anything go right this weekend?

You were nervous. You hadn’t seen the group in over a year, but once Peter had sent a text to the group, everyone had been quick to respond. You were excited to be back but also… anxious.

It had been a while since you had been here and what happened last time…

Your fingers stung as the stone dug into your palms, and you huffed chilled air as you tossed yourself over, feet tingling as you landed with an oomph.  It wasn't far now to the ski lift. You’d be out of this cold, haunting forest soon enough, surrounded by your friends' warmth.

Especially Peter's warmth, a little voice in the back of your head chimed.

The longer you thought of him, the warmer your cheeks became, making your breaths turn to startled pants in the deep snow. You and Peter had been friends since the first year of college, which he then introduced you to the rest of the group.

Bucky, who had been Peter's best friend since childhood, Steve- the big flirt (not nearly as bad as Peter though), Natasha- who was Bucky's girlfriend, Wanda, her friend Matt, and Loki.

All of them had been welcoming to you, making you feel right at home as if you had been friends with them for years. But when things got out of hand last year at the lodge, when Peter's sister went missing… it was distant.

You had pushed that memory as far back as you could, so whenever you tried to conjure it to the surface it was murky. A prank had gone wrong, despite you begging to the group to end it- Peter passed out on the couch.

His sister had been so in love with Bucky and well…

You watched the lift inch towards you, the doors swinging open with a loud clang. You closed your eyes in prayer that this car wouldn't snap with you inside, the old thing barely inching faster than a snail's pace.

Surely if the Parkers were rich, they did maintenance checks regularly? You doubted it.

The glass inside was foggy, and you traced a heart on the window pane as you started to trudge up Blackwood Mountain. The scenery was beautiful, the sun starting to become covered by rolling clouds, the snow coating the trees below- but all you could think of was Peter.

You had always had a crush on him but recently it had turned dangerous. All you could think of was him. Ever since he had sent that text to the group, it was like a switch in your body had snapped. Like you were reminded- “oh shit, yes, yes I do like this man”.

And no amount of time or distance would change that.

Wanda and Natasha had always teased you, insisting Peter liked you back- but he flirts with everyone. You refused to believe it, not wanting to give your hopes up… in case they were playing a prank on you.

You couldn't help but worry about him though, with everything that had happened. You hoped he didn't resent anyone for what had happened that night.

You wished you could've stopped it, could've been there to wake him…

The car jutted to a stop and rocked back and forth, the door remaining shut. Oh fuck. You peered your head through the window in the door and saw Wanda with Matt, waiting at the stop. You banged on the door, snapping their attention over to you with a start.

“Could you open this? I'm uh.. Kinda stuck.”

Wanda laughed as she walked over to you, banging on the door before pressing the old button that took several seconds to work. Finally the doors swung open, leaving a loud creaking sound in their wake that echoed off the mountains.

“What, you didn't want to see us so you stayed in the car?” Matt called, a smirk on his lips as Wanda wrapped her arms around you, grasping you in a comforting embrace.

“Oooh I missed you girl! It's been so long since we've been back.” she smiled softly as Matt hugged you, taking the soaking backpack from your back. “I missed you guys too. Is anyone else here?”

“Everyone now I think. It's almost night-time, so I’m sure they're all waiting at the lodge for us.”

You bit your lip, nodding solemnly.

“Were you guys waiting long? Sorry, you didn't have to or anything, my bus was super late and the gate was broken…”

“What no! It's all good girl, Matt didn't mean anything by it. We’re just all so excited to see you.”

“Especially Peter.” Matt laughed, and you put your head in your hands.

“Maybe he’ll warm you up Y/N, since it's so cold out here.” Wanda winked, making you giggle. “Well, let's hope he can warm my freezing buns up.” you snorted, earning a pat on the back from Matt.

“Atta girl. Maybe we’ll all get lucky tonight.” he said, and you flickered your eyes over to catch Wanda blushing deeply.

Wait.. were they? You didn't push it. You'd find out as the night went on.

Who knew what had happened in that year, maybe things had changed. You didn't have much time to think about it before you arrived at the lodge's entrance, warm light glowing from inside.

“You get the easy treatment. I heard Bucky and Peter had to break in and unmelt the lock.” Matt grimaced, and you couldn't help but laugh as you imagined Bucky falling flat on his ass through the window.

“Jesus. You guys just needed me here, I could have warmed the lock up with my hotness.”

“Damn straight bitch!” Wanda laughed as she unlatched the door, letting the warmth wash over your frozen bones. An eruption of cheers sounded from the blazing fireplace, drinks opened on the ground.

“She made it!” Steve called, rushing over to give you a bear hug, practically picking you up and swinging you around like a rag doll.

“Oh fuck youre freezing. Did you walk all the way up here?! Is that why you're late?”

You rolled your eyes. “No, my bus was late. I’m so sorry guys.”

“We thought you forgot about us.” Peter smirked, boyish charm radiating off of him, a lint in his eyes as he walked over to you, towering over you.

“Hi. I'm so sorry Peter, I swear-"

" I'm kidding you. Cmere.”

You wrapped your arms around his torso, breathing in his scent of musk and amber, his skin like fire compared to yours. “Fuck Steve was right. Shit, come sit by the fire.” he urged, and as if on cue, you shivered.

He helped you peel your cold layers off your body, hanging up your coat to dry. Bucky gave you a taste of his warm whisky, immediately making you splutter and grimace at the strong, overpowering taste.

Jokes were tossed around, and you found yourself in an easy rhythm with the group, as if nothing had ever happened. You looked to Peter in reassurance, already finding his eyes staring you down when you met his. He studied you as you talked to Natasha, drinking you in.

You tried to keep your composure, but the butterflies churned in your chest.

“Did you want to take a warm bath?” Peter asked, everyone turning to look at you as you shivered again.

“No, no it's okay Peter. Thank you though.”

“Are you sure? You're still freezing.” Loki nudged you with his leg from where he stretched out on the couch. Everyone looked at you with concern, Peter most of all.

“Okay maybe that would be nice. But that wont take away from what we're doing? I don't wanna just leave you guys.” you frowned.

“What?! No! Matt and I were gonna go for a walk around anyways, and I'm pretty sure Bucky, Loki and Steve wanted to dig out some spirit board anyways. Go take a bath and warm up, okay?” Wanda smiled softly at you, urging you to go with Peter.

“I just have to turn on the hot water.” He said, making his way over to the basement door. “I can come with you.” you offered.

“You sure? It's cold and dark.” You shrugged, honestly just wanting more time with Peter. “It's my bath, and I hear I’m pretty good at holding a flashlight.”

He laughed, tossing you his light. “Flashlight duty it is then.”

You followed him through the dark passageway, old stairs creaking under your weight as the little spotlight guided you onwards. The door slammed behind you with a slam, making you jump.

“Sorry, that always slams like that. This place is old as dirt.” You laughed, wrapping your arms around yourself as you shivered, not only from the cold but how eerie it was.

“Man, it's creepy down here.” you noted as you finally reached the crypt, barely being able to see anything but dark shadows in the far distance. “What, you can't handle a little cobwebs?” he teased, shooting you a wink as he made his way over to the pipes.

You followed him, giving him a playful smack across his solid bicep, aiming the light where he navigated. It was quiet all but the drip of water on the concrete concrete floor, and your heavy breaths.

“Peter?”

“Hm?” You started fidgeting nervously.

“Are- are you doing okay? I mean, with everything? Today was a hard day, so I just…”

“I’m okay. I just… can't think about it for too long, ya know? But I wanted us all together to celebrate. To take our minds off of it.” he shrugged, switching on the hot water at last.

“I understand. And, thank you for inviting me Peter. I really appreciate it, and if you need anything at all… we’re all here for you.” you softly smiled, sensing his pain and vulnerability.

“I know. And between you and me, I wish I could have only invited you.” he winked, hand reaching up as if he wanted to tuck a loose strand of hair behind your ear before he caught himself.

There were the flirty comments again.

“You’re really sweet Y/N. You’ve been what I’ve needed this year, ya know? Just the thought of you is enough to cheer me up. I’m really happy you could make it.”

You felt your cheeks start to heat under his gaze. You knew he had been in therapy for some time now, and you hoped the sessions helped him. You always thought maybe you could fix him, not that he needed to be fixed. He wasn't broken, he was just…

A loud bang sounded from the corner of the room and you jumped, instinctive leaning into Peter. “What was that?” you croaked quietly, flashlight starting to shake.

“I have no fuckin idea.” he murmmed, stepping in front of you, as if he was to shield you. “Should we.. Should we check it out? Maybe it's an old pipe or something?”

“Old pipes don't make that noise.”

You gulped. Suddenly, something lunged for you and you screamed, clinging to Peter's bicep as you two started to bolt towards the stairs, and you nearly tripped up them as the shadow rushed at you.

Stumbling up the stairs you almost made it to the door before you could hear laughing.

“Hah! You just got Bunked! Get it, like punked? But I did it, so it's Bunked.” Bucky howled with laughter as he tugged the dark sheet off his body. Peter chuckled along with him, but your eyes nearly popped from their sockets.

“You- well you fucking dick!” you screamed, stomping down the rickety steps to give him a peace of your mind. Smacking his chest you growled.

“What the fuck were you doing?! You nearly gave me a heart attack!” you snarled, pawing at him with closed fists.

“Hey, hey I’m sorry okay! We always do pranks here. I had to, because of tradition.”

“Did you know about this?”

Peter rolled his eyes, moving closer to you. “Nope, but you're cute when you're scared. Don't act like you weren't clinging onto my bicep like a monkey just then.” Peter smirked coyly, winking.

“You're both dicks.” Peter mock gasped, turning to Bucky with eyes wide in bewilderment. “You hear that Buck? She thinks we’re dicks! Guess my chances of getting some are slim.” he snickered as you trotted up the stairs, giving them an eye roll before escaping back out into the main room.

----------------------------------------------------------

You weren't sure how long you stayed in the bath, but the water was cold. You woke with a start, eyes fluttering open as the chill sent little shocks down your body.

You must have fallen asleep in the tub, the night darker than ever.

A little candle flickered on the vanity, and you grabbed it as you wrapped yourself up in a towel, wet footsteps trotting across the hardwood floors. It was dead quiet in the lodge, not an echo of chatter from the main room. You knew people had probably gone exploring, or gone to sleep but this was eerily quiet.

Something felt off. Something was wrong.

“Guys? Hello?” you peered your head out and saw nothing but an empty hallway. With only the candle to lead you on your way, you slowly padded down the hall, poking your head into empty rooms.

“Was I really asleep that long?” you murmured to yourself as you finally found your room where Matt had dropped off your bag near the freshly made bed.

It was uncomfortably large the lodge, and you constantly felt a set of eyes following your frame. You set the candle down, shutting the door behind you as you went to rub your pjs.

If this was another prank they were playing… you would be pissed. Once was enough for the night. God knows you needed another heart attack.

Humming to yourself, you bent down to grab your lace panties from your bag, turning around only to scream.

A large man towered by the doorway, lingering in the darkness, body hidden in heavy overalls, gloves adorning his hands- a mask on his face.

You nearly dropped your towel, backing up and falling onto the bed. Scream dying in your throat as he got to you in two large strides, gloved hand covering your mouth as the other scooped you up, backside pressed against his large frame.

You whimpered into the leather, hot, silent tears streaming down your cheeks. “Please don't hurt me, please. Please..” you cried, muffled in his glove.

“You’re so pretty when you're scared, baby. You promise you won't scream if I remove my hand?”

You nodded frantically, willing to do anything this stranger told you to save yourself. You hiccuped on your sobs as he slowly removed his hand, instead allowing it to come up and stroke your hair gently as you cried in his arms.

“Shh, shh baby. Not a word okay?” the distorted voice asked and you nodded again, too scared to make a peep.

“You’re so, so pretty when you cry baby. You know that? You’re so hot when you’re scared. The way you held my bicep earlier? Just wanted to pick you up and pound your little body, fuck.”

Realisation dawned on you, eyes widening in shock.

“P-peter?” His arm let go and you stumbled onto the bed, scooting away from him as he took off the mask, revealing that glint of mischief in his eyes, that coy smirk on his lips as his tongue darted out to lick the lower one.

“What are you doing?” you asked softly. He tilted his head, studying you. “Pranking everyone else, like they did last year to us. Just thought I’d stop by to check in on you.” he smiled.

You gulped as the mask thudded to the ground. “Where is everyone else?”

“Oh they're all out. I was hoping some trauma bonding would make Wanda and Matt finally make that move, ya know? Maybe I’m doing them a favour.” he chuckled.

“But why.. Why were you dressed like that?” you asked, clutching your towel tighter to your breasts that poked out at the top as he slowly made his way closer to you.

“Just some harmless fun. Did it scare you?”

“Y-yeah.”

He pouted. “You're so pretty when you're scared. I'm sorry for making you cry sweetheart. You were just too good to resist.” he sighed, thumb brushing your tear stained cheek.

“I-its okay.” you stumbled over your words, flustered at his proximity, body growing hot at his touch and the hungry look in his eye as he stared down at you.

You squeezed your thighs together, trying to be subtle, but failing miserably. You felt your arousal leaking out of you down your thighs, and your breath was shaky.

You wanted him so bad. But what kind of sick fuck would you be for feeling this way? When he had scared you to death?

He looked you up and down, eyes lingering longer on your breasts, licking his lips hungrily.

He knew. He knew the effect he had on you.

“Now baby, tell me. Did you like that stunt I pulled just now?”

You were silent, refusing to meet his eyes.

“Did I make you flustered? Did that turn you on? Hm?” his low voice sent another pulse down your spine, and you clamped down on nothing. “Mhm.” you nodded.

His fingers gripped your chin, making you jolt with a start as he forced your eyes to meet his. “Do you like how helpless and weak you felt? Cause I did. I could do whatever I wanted to you baby, and no one would even know. It's just you and me.”

You whimpered, making him smirk. You felt yourself being backed up on the bed, Peter hovering over you as you lay flat under him.

You were his now. And fuck, if you didnt like it.

“P-peter-”

“You know how long I’ve wanted you baby? Fuck.”

“I-I wanted you too.” you confessed softly, looking up at him with doe eyes, already starting to feel your brain go fuzzy with his presence.

“Yeah? Even just then? You liked it, didn't you?”

“I.. I did like it.” you bashfully admitted, and he groaned.

“I knew you were a dirty girl. Aren't you? You want me to fuck you baby?” You nodded, hand slithering up to grasp his bicep, the way you knew he liked. He hissed, head dropping down to take a breath.

As if he was controlling himself, like an animal on a leash that threatened to snap. “So little under me. Such a cute lil thing, so breakable.” he sighed to himself as he pulled your hand away, hand lingering on your towel knot.

You met his eyes that pleaded, asking if he could go further. “M’ not breakable.” you murmured, taking his hand in yours to yank the towel loose, letting it come undone around your naked body.

He drank you in, having to reach down to adjust himself in his overalls. “We’ll see about that when I’m done with you.”

His fingers traced your smooth skin, a finger dragging down your abdomen, tapping your inner thighs, making you wiggle. “So responsive. You like when I touch you here?”

You nodded. “Please.”

“Please what?”

“Please touch me Peter. Please. Need you so bad it hurts, it hur-”

His fingers slid through your slick folds, rubbing your clit gently. “Shh shh that's it baby. You just sit still and I’ll take care of you, mkay? Gonna make you so dumb n helpless.” he cooed at you, your mouth parting in an o shape as his large finger slipped inside you, clenching around the digit.

“Gotta stretch you out. You’re so tight, fuck. Youre so hot, like a fuckin porn star.” Your back bowed off the bed as he worked your clit, the rough pad of his thumb taking over as he pumped two thick digits in you, curling just the way to make you moan.

“Peter, Peter f-fuck, feels so good-” you choked out, his palm splayed on your tummy to keep you from wiggling away.

“Yeah baby you gonna cum? Yeah?” he teased, his fingers slipping out at the last second, making you groan in protest, before he slammed home with his cock.

You gasped, screaming at the fullness, as he watched your face contort from pleasure to pain, back to pleasure again. Your mascara was smudged from your tears and he swore a hint of drool trickled from your lips, and fuck if it didnt turn him on even more.

“Is it too much for you honey? You gonna take it all?”

You couldn't even response, eyes rolling to the back of your head as he fucked you, snapping his hips hard and fast, letting the animal off the leash. He couldn't control himself any longer. He had wanted this for too long, and the idea of the two of you being alone, with no one around for miles made him snap his hips harder.

“Yeah you like when I fuck you? Youre so fucking slutty baby, letting some masked man fuck you. But you like it, don't you? I always knew you were a freak.” he growled, making you mewl, clinging onto him.

“Scream baby. No one can hear you.” he chuckled as he abused your cunt, the sound of skin merging with your juices making a squelching sound that mixed with your moans.

“I c-can’t, too much-” you slurred, making him cluck his tongue.

“Cum baby. Cum for me.”

That was all you needed to hear, orgasm rippling through you hard and rough as he continued to fuck you through it.

“Such a good girl. So wet, fuck. Fuck I’m gonna cum, fuck fuck Y/N, you’re so fuckin hot-” he growled, pace faltering as he reached his orgasim, shooting ropes of his sticky seed inside you.

The world was blurry, the room spinning as he stilled inside you, breathing heavily himself as he cooed down at you. “Baby? You with me?”

“Mhgm.” was all you could mutter out, body shaking and twitching from the overstimulation. “I’m gonna go clean you up okay? You gotta let go for two seconds.”

His soft, protective demeanour came back within seconds, as he slowly peeled your grip from his biceps, crescent moon shapes adorning them.

“When we’re all clean I gotta go clean some stuff up with them okay? And then we’ll have the whole place to ourselves and we can rest, pretty girl.”

[totheblood]

white horse

pairing: spencer reid x reader

summary: spencer notices a change in you and helps you in his own spencer way

warnings: mostly fluff, grief mentions.

a/n: wrote this short thing to fix my spencer reid obsession! AI AUDIOS in the fic also reblogs, asks, and replies are so appreciated and encouraged! thank u kisses

wc: 1k

"my heart always wants to run."

Spencer was unfocused.

The hum of the air conditioner in the precinct wasn’t enough to drown out the thousands of thoughts in his head. What he should have been doing was analyzing the geographical profile of the current unsub, maybe even collecting witness statements or completing paperwork, but no. Spencer Reid was unfocused on the case and completely focused on you.

Ever since Hotch presented the case your entire body language had changed. It was like you had folded in on yourself, deflated in a way that made Spencer’s heart crunch. On the flight to LA, you nervously bit at your nails as the team spoke, bouncing ideas off each other, not contributing to the conversation like you usually did. You took a backseat in this case and for the life of him, Spencer couldn’t figure out why.

The minute you joined the BAU you were as elusive as they came. You barely spoke about yourself, never attended group gatherings, and kept conversations strictly professional. Spencer used to brainstorm reasons as to why you were so reserved, but he stopped once he started thinking of ways to get you to like him.

He would bring you the mini muffins from the cafeteria that were always sold out by noon, but you would always politely decline and claim you had just eaten. He would sit next to you on the jet and make small talk to which you replied with one-word answers. He always made an effort to include you in conversations not pertaining to work but you just would not budge. The only time he got a glimpse into the real you was when he made a stupid off-hand joke about Aristotle and you chuckled from your desk. He did his best to ignore the feeling that swelled in his chest. 

Now he was getting a glimpse into your life in a way that he didn’t expect. You were on edge. Something about this case was personal to you. He noticed it in the way you took small gasps every time a new body was found, or how you opted to do paperwork instead of being in the field. As someone who has seen you do a million takedowns with a smile on your face, Spencer knew something was wrong when you opted to stay back. The unsub was kidnapping pairs of sisters, murdering one, and letting the other live. It was gruesome and cruel, and he was accelerating. Spencer should have been doing literally anything to help, but his attention was on you.

“I can feel you staring,” you breathed from your place at the large conference table, not looking up from the paperwork. 

“Oh, uh-” Spencer fumbled as he sat up, “I’m not- I wasn’t really staring, I would say I was observing.”

You put your pen down and looked up at him, eyes squinted as you looked at his face, “Why?”

There was an edge to your voice, like you were already pissed and he was just making it worse. 

“Well, you usually write faster, you have a notch in between your eyebrows like you’re thinking really hard about something, or trying not to. And you, uh, scratch the back of your ear when you’re nervous,” he blurted out, sitting up straighter, “and uh, I wanted to make sure you were… okay,”

His last sentence made you sit up straighter as your whole face softened. You looked down at the papers in front of you then back up at him, “I didn’t realize anyone noticed,” you whispered voice low.

“Well,” he started, getting up and moving to sit down next to you, “you’re one of us… aaand we’re profilers, we kind of notice these things.”

You let out a small laugh as you shook your head and looked up at him. His hazel eyes were practically sparkling as he stared at you. If you were being completely honest, it was intimidating. 

“I’m sorry, I’ve been,” you squint your eyes, thinking of the word to think of, “distant. I’m just not used to all of this, it’s overwhelming.”

“No, it’s okay,” he said almost instantly, voice soft, “This job is a lot, I don’t blame you. But today… this case,” his voice trailed off.

You took a deep sigh, resting your hands in your hands as you shut your eyes for a minute before you spoke, “My sister… she died. I don’t want to talk about it but, this case reminds me of it. Reminds me of her.”

“I understand,” Spencer hummed, in such a soft voice that it almost instantly soothed you.

“God, it happened so long ago I just don’t understand why I can’t get over it,” you shook your head, rubbing at your face before speaking again, “it’s like every time I remember it, I shut down. It’s like I’m broken or something.”

Spencer paused for a moment, looking you over before speaking, “Did you know that grief can actually alter your brain chemistry? Research has shown that the intense emotions associated with grief can increase levels of cortisol which can impact memory and cognitive function. In fact, there's evidence suggesting that the brain of a grieving person might resemble that of someone with a traumatic brain injury.”

You looked over at him, eyes a little wide as if you were taking in everything he just said. 

“I don’t know if that helps but-” Spencer started but was cut off by the sound of your voice. 

“It helps,” you breathed a laugh, “it really helps, so uh, thanks.” 

“You know, I’m always here if you need someone to talk to-” He spoke before tumbling over his words, “I mean we’re all here if you need someone, not just me but all of us.” 

You gave him a tight-lipped smile which he returned, “Thank you, Spencer,” you looked back at your paper before glancing back at him, “I might take you up on that offer.”

With his cheeks tinged pink, he nodded, picked up his messenger bag and exited the precinct conference room where Derek was stood in the doorway, clapping a hand on his back as he exited, “You’re in deep, pretty boy,” he commented with a laugh. 

“Shut up,” Spencer said under his breath, his cheeks now growing a shade or two darker. 

You had said maybe the most you ever had to him in your entire four months of working there and Spencer left the room blushing. He was for sure in deep.

[homestylehughes]

boyfriend luke headcanons

pairing(s): luke hughes x fem!reader

summary: headcanons of bf!luke!

wc: 568

warnings: fluff!! cute luke, smut 18+. sfw and nsfw!

authors note: hiii guys!! guess whos back...me! i just finished my last final WOOOOHOOO! but i still have to write a 10 page paper final... gulp anyways!! i love writing headcanons recently... they're so fun so write. i wrote for luke, luke might be my fav hughes brother... he's been looking a little too good recently NO SURPRISE! anyways im working on more fics tonight so more things will be coming!! im currently working on a long quinn fic, super excited for that to come out. omg this is so long im so sorry, okay im done yapping now!! like and reblog if you enjoyed it<3 much love as always <3

OH!! my requests are open, send something in or just talk to me:)

happy reading<3

Sfw: 

Bf!luke: luke loves having his hands on you at all times. Cuddling you when you guys are home alone and having an arm and hand on you when you guys are out in public. Always making sure you know that he's always there.

Bf!luke: luke loves to plan cute little dates for you guys, always changing it up. If it's a picnic in the park or dinner at a fancy restaurant. Your favorite dates are the random ones, just getting in the car and doing something, those always make the best memories. 

Bf!luke: Luke is a quiet but attentive boyfriend. He's always there when you need a shoulder to cry on, he always listens to you about everything you want to talk about. Luke is quiet in some momentents but you don't mind it, you love how soft and quiet he is, showing how he cares for you in intimate ways.

Bf!luke: He's such a competitive game player. He hates losing, especially to you. Your favorite moment with him is when guys were playing scrabble and he lost in the last round, flipping the scrabble board with a dramatic sign. Lets just say he was picking up scrabble pieces for 2 hours straight. 

Bf!luke: It's no secret that Luke can't cook, but he tries for you. Waking up before you, his mind set on making you breakfast. Trying to be as quiet as he can in the kitchen, trying to pull something together to impress you with. He always ends up going with things that don't involve him using the stove, as a safe bet. The cereal and yogurt bowls never fail to make your heart burst whenever you see them. Knowing it's not much, but it means so much to you because luke made it for you. 

Nsfw: 

Bf!luke: people wouldn't expect it but luke is one kinky guy. He loves trying new things in the bedroom. Tying you up, trailing ice cubes down your body, you name it he’ll do it.

Bf!luke: shower sex. Luke loves shower sex. Watching the water run down your body, has to be one of his favorite sights. Kissing your neck from behind you, guiding his hands along your waist pulling your body back towards him. He’ll slowly push your body against the shower wall, trapping you body with his arms caging you in as he works his way down you body, as your moans fill up the shower walls. 

Bf!luke: luke loves it when you praise him, he definitely has a praise kink. Pulling on his hair while he eats you out. Looking down at him as he's between your legs, moaning at how good he looks from down there. Urging him on saying “fuck right there” “yes luke oh my god” “you look so pretty between my legs”, and his personal favorite is when you call him “good boy”. 

Bf!luke: luke loves ur thighs, kissing them, laying on them, anything that has to do with your thighs he loves. He loves gripping them while your on top riding him, his large hands gripping your thighs with such force that will definitely leave a bruise the next day. 

[luvfy0dor]

Ahemm can I request s Fyodor x reader whos also russian but speaks better Japanese then him (i find it funny he's bad at learning Japanese) ♡

“Trust Me, Mine is Better ♡⁠˖” Fyodor Dostoevsky x GN!Reader ੈ✩‧₊˚

Warnings; Google translate Japanese, cursing, not proofread

Description; Fyodors partner is also Russian, but is better with speaking Japanese and learned faster, so his partner helps him out

A/n; I wanna have a study date w him so bad omg 3:

• He'd be a teeny bit passive about it to be honest, but all in all he'd be proud of you. It's not often that he comes across someone who's better than him at anything intellectual.

ೃ⁀➷

Being in Japan with your boyfriend was lovely when he wasn't out being a terrorist. He loved to sight see whenever he left your homeland of Russia, but directions weren't his forte, nor was the Japanese language. You were able to speak it rather fluently though. You didn't have much of an accent to begin with, but however much of an accent you did have immediately disappeared when you opened your mouth to speak Japanese. He couldn't help but feel a little jealousy bubble in his chest when you could fluently speak with a random stranger in the street to ask which way something was, but he hid it well. As a matter of fact, he'd praise you.

"すみません、地下鉄の駅はどこです��?" (where is the subway station?) You asked when you stopped a man in the street, looking for a way home with your boyfriends hand in your own. You could almost feel Fyodors subtle glare gently burning through your skin like corrosives while you listened to the guy pointing you in the right direction. “ありがとう!" (Thank you) You say, giving a small nod of appreciation and leading Fyodor in the direction you were given. "Wow, Moya Lyubov, it's like you get better at speaking Japanese every day. Even your writing improves just as rapidly." The words rolled off his tongue smoothly and you gratefully accepted his compliments, smiling and squeezing his hand. "Thank you, yours does too. It's nice that we're both learning Japanese, so we can help eachother out." You say, looking at the street ahead of you, heading down a flight of stairs to a subway station.

"You sound like you're past simply learning." He says lightheartedly, a small smile on his face. You look over to him and nod. "I mean, I can get around, but I still have so much to learn and that's okay- Fedya, oh my gosh! We could have cute study dates together!! A lot of people do stuff like that in highschool or college, but since we were never together during either of those, we could do, like, a mock-study date." You say, excited by your new, groundbreaking idea. He seems amused by your enthusiasm, wrapping an arm around your shoulder and pulling you closer to him. “I wouldn't mind being taught how to speak and write better as long as it's by you. Other people are much more condescending and teasing." He says. You could only imagine he was referring to Nikolai after watching him show the clown a paper with large Japanese symbols written on the paper, to which Nikolai started giggling and asked him what the fuck it was supposed to be.

Needless to say that was the last time Fyodor turned to Nikolai for constructive criticism, he wrote him off as unhelpful in this manner. Instead he'd only get it from native speakers or people who are, in his eyes, fluent in the language. They could give him real advice. But since you were proposing a study date with him where he could get constructive advice from you and do some more learning of the language in his own way, there was no reason to pass that opportunity up. You both agreed on the next evening after he got home from a DOA meeting, and it was more than pleasant. You both laid in each other's presence, practicing your writing, doing Duolingo lessons here and there, and etc. You eventually got bored, craving your lovers attention instead of knowledge. You leaned over and brushed his hair away from his face before whispering into his ear. “キスしてもいいですか?" His eyebrows furrow and his head turns to face you.

"Can you what?" His words are slightly slurred together with his accent and sleepiness. His lips are pink and clearly chewed with focus and frustration and his eyelids are droopy. "Can I kiss you?" You repeat in English. His eyes widen and he grins, reaching out to cup your face, pulling you in. "You don't have to ask to kiss me, Moya Lyubov." He closes his eyes and lets his lips meet yours, moving them together and rubbing your cheek with his thumb. You entangle your fingers in his hair and part, taking a quick breath of air and resting your forehead against his. "I know, I just figured I'd give you a new phrase in Japanese." He laughs and pulls you into his thin body. "Who else would I need to say it to?" His hands rubbed up and down your back. "No one, but still- just let me be flirty while staying on topic, alright?" You say with a laugh, twirling his hair around your finger. Not to say neither of you learned anything during your study date, but just in case Fyodor didn't, he now knew how to ask to kiss you.

A/n; sorry this post is like an hour later than usual my bad chat ☹️

[pit-and-the-pen]

Your Love is Sunlight- Unrequited Love Pt.3

Whoops. Part 3 to Requited Love but could also be read as a stand-alone (I think I gave enough context to do that). This will be the last linear fic for this little series. But there will be more from this OC.

Let me know if you want to be added to the on-going taglist for this OC

Eris x Day Court! OC (Sunbeam) 

Warnings: Suggestive language, heavy kissing. One singular dialogue line with misogyny. Eating (as always let me know if I'm missing anything)

Also I’m heavily messing around with canon/ lore for mating bonds here. 

[Part 1] [Part 2] [Pt. 2 Alt Ending]

WC: 3.7k

divider by @cafekitsune

The request came not even a week later. A week that I could not get the red head out of my thoughts. Eris was a perfect gentleman that night, only lightly chucking as he held my hips away from his after our heated kiss.  We danced the rest of the night away until my shoes had worn painful blisters into my heel. And I would do it a million times over if I got to see that look in his eyes

Eris looked at me like he actually saw me. Like a was someone worth looking at. Not a second option. No, he looked at me the way no one ever had before and I was drunk off of it. The fire in his eyes was enough to make me want to sink to my knees right then and there. I had told him that much that night. 

But instead, he went back to his court. The very court whose seal is on the envelope in my hands. The paper so dark red it was almost black. I opened it with shaky hands and scanned over the words, over and over. Written in loopy, beautiful cursive. The note was short and sweet 

Sunbeam, it would be my honor to show you around the Autumn court. You’d be my personal guest. 

I will be waiting for your reply. 

Yours,

Eris 

One little word made my heart skip a beat. YOURS. Something deep in my chest purred at the idea but I brushed it off to the side. Flirting is one thing but the idea of Eris ever truly wanting something like that with me seemed too good to be true. So I wrote back my enthusiastic yes and in a puff of smoke that left the room smelling faintly of cinnamon, the letter was gone. Returned back to the male that had written it. 

I had never been to the Autumn Court before. My eyes tried to adjust to the beautiful reds, greens and yellows in hues I’d never seen outside of paintings. The cool breeze that seemed to whisper in my ear as it brushed past. Everything seemed alive as I heard the scurrying of animals on the leaf covered ground. When the air rose a few degrees, you already knew who was walking up to me. I greeted Eris with a tight hug. He was dressed in a handsome emerald green button down with gray slacks. His hair tied up out of his face unlike the other night at the ball. Those same golden rings littered his fingers. I blushed as I realized my eyes had been raking over him. If he had noticed, he didn’t say anything. Suddenly not knowing what to do with myself, I gave him an overdramatic curtsey raising my voice to stuff almost regal pitch. 

“High Lord.” He quickly recovered from the confusion that washed over him. He smiled, catching on, before he bowed low

“Allow me the honor of showing you around.” He said as he extended an arm to me. His voice dripped with that same faux stuffiness. The two of you looked at each other, holding back laughter. I broke first. My laughter rang through the large forest at my back. His head was thrown back, blinding white teeth flashing. Once we had recovered, he held out his arm again. Voice back to normal. “I would still like to show you around.” I took his arm and the two of us walked around the manor that seemed to rise out of the forest. 

AS he showed me around, he told me of the renovations that had recently taken place, pointed out the things that he still planned to change. The inside was just as breathtaking as the woods around the house. Rich colors and soft, plush fabrics filled the space with an unmistakable warmth. One that Eris had painstakingly tried to create. 

“And this will be your room for your stay. I already had your things brought up and I had Tessa and Clover, two of my mothers maids, pick out some warmer clothes for you.” He gestured to the large armoire in the corner of the room. “If you need anything else please don’t hesitate to tell them or myself.” Thanks rushed out of my mouth as I gaped at the room. 

My  room at the day court had floor to ceiling windows that allowed for sun to streak through at all waking hours, marble and gold littered every surface possible. This room was cozy enough that I instantly felt my eyes get heavy. Dark wood paneling ran across the walls. Heavy curtains over the windows that had been pinned back displayed the colorful trees. And the bed.the bed. It was covered with the softest, plushest blankets I had ever seen. Pillows covered over half the bed and it made me want to do nothing but burrow into them and never leave that bed. My feet drifted on their own accord over to the bed, I reached out a hand and almost sighed at the feeling of the fabric against my fingers. Just as soft as they looked. 

Eris’ content laugh pulled me out of my trance. I turned around to face him, he stood in the doorway still. “I’ll let you get settled. I can show you around more later today before dinner? If you want.” My heart fluttered at the idea, the thought of his court seeing us together. Of course, it was probably just to make sure I didn’t get lost in the maze that was the manor. At least that’s what I told myself, but as he took one more glance at me before he walked out of the room, I wasn't sure how much I believed that. 

Although I had bathed earlier that day, the deep tub in my bathroom all but called my name. I sniffed random bottles of oils and poured in spicy, warm smells. The oils seemed to curl in the air and beckon me to sink deeper into the water. Completely submerging my head until I needed to come up for air. I sat in the bath until my skin started to prune. Groaning, I pulled myself from the soothing water and dried off. Wrapping the towel around myself, I padded over to the closet and ran a hand over all the clothes Eris had given me. The closet was full of jewel tones and deep reds. Floor length dresses that were heavy enough to keep out the nip of the air at night but light enough to walk around in during the day. I picked an emerald long sleeve dress and blushed at the realization that Eris and I would be matching. Before I could lose my nerve, I pulled the dress over my shoulder. The front buttoned up all the way to the ground. The waist tucked in slightly flaring out around my hips. It felt amazing against my skin and fit like a glove. 

A knock at the door pulled my eyes from my reflection in the mirror. My hair was still wet from the bath and small waves were starting to form at the ends. Eris opened the door and stilled as he took me in. I felt like I was a thousand feet under his heavy gaze. He looked down at his own shirt for a second before he looked at me again. 

“Autumn court is a good look for you, Sunbeam.” My whole body flushed at the compliment and I hummed in agreement. A small yip from the hallway split my focus. A small furry face pushed through his legs, almost toppling the High Lord. “Azelia” he whistled, the hound stilled for a second before prancing over to me. She sniffed at my skirt before she sat at my feet, giving me her full attention. I reached down to pet her and she rolled over onto her back. I laughed at the twitch in her tail as I ran a hand over her stomach. Eris whistled one more time and she barked back before flipping back over and walked to sit at his feet in a similar manner. I giggled at the exhausted look he shot the dog. She only barked in her own form of laughter. 

Eris and I walked along a river by the house. He helped me pick out the perfect stones for skipping across the water. Coming up behind me to make sure my arm had the perfect flick to make it sail over the surface. I wasn’t nearly as good as he was, even with his help. Something he pointed out with a smirk. I pushed him lightly and he clutched at his chest like I had mortally wounded him. Crouching down onto both knees. I walked closer to him.

“Oh please, Eris ge-” My words were replaced with a yelp as he wrapped his arms around my legs and pulled me over his shoulder. I could only laugh my head off as I pounded at his back. Demanding he put me down. When he did, I felt the tree against my back. 

“Have I told you how beautiful you sound when you laugh?” I blushed and shook my head. 

“It can’t be that special. No one has ever said that before.” He knew who I was speaking about and he pulled my chin up to look him in the eyes 

“I wish I could offer the usual sentiment of killing the male that ever made you feel this way but that would complicate things as a high lord,” he winked at me. I felt my shoulders loosening at the humor in his voice. “But you say the word and I will.” He picked up a lock of my hair and twirled it around his finger. “You’re radiant and anyone who has ever made you feel otherwise is either blind or dumb or both.”

We had leaned in so close to one another that I could count the freckles on the bridge of his nose. Someday I hoped he would let me kiss each and every single one of them. My eyes flickered down to his lips and he was smirking as he followed my eye line. 

“Is there something you want, Sunbeam?” The little shit. It’s like my words had evaporated completely. Brain went fuzzy as his smell wrapped around me. I could do nothing but whimper. He made no other remark, only used his hand already in my hair to grip the back of my head. He growled as he smashed his lips to mine. This was nothing like the kiss from the ball. That had been exploratory and warm. This was an all consuming inferno. Burning through every ounce of self doubt I harbored. Scorching through my veins until only Eris was left. His free hand wrapped around my waist and pressed me against every delicious inch of him. When I started undoing the buttons of his shirt, he still his lips. His hand went to rest over mine and I reluctantly pulled away from him. I tried not to show the hurt on my face. And he leaned in to whisper in my ear. 

“The first time I'm inside of you will not be outside. Nor when we're rushed. I need time to make you scream my name. For all of Priyanth to hear that you’re mine.” Something more than hunger flashed in his eyes and I felt that look deep in me. 

“Eris.” I gasped out. He brushed a soft hand down the side of my face. 

“You can’t say my name like that sweetheart, not when I have to sit at dinner with the rest of my court in less than an hour.” I blushed at the meaning behind his words and tried, and failed, to not look down to the front of his pants. The evidence behind his words. My tongue ran across my lips at the sight. He groaned and stepped away from me. 

“You are a bad influence. But I meant what I said.” He booped my nose with his pointer finger, “ Now please go get ready for dinner.” His hand lingered on my arm for a fraction longer before he reluctantly let go.

I got dressed in a daze. A wild blush would not leave my cheeks. Everytime I managed to push away my errant thoughts, more would seep back into my mind. 

Before I knew it, I had changed into a new dress and was walking side by side with Eris down to the dining room. A few members of his court were already there, talking amongst themselves. They smiled up at him as we passed. As I sat down next to him they introduced themselves in kind tones. I nodded trying to keep up with their names and faces. More people started to come in and eventually all the places at the table were filled. 

There was no big speech or ceremony to start dinner. Everyone ate at the pace that they wanted to and cups of wine were being poured and shared. 

A deep voice of an older male pulled me from my conversation with the female,Fern I think was her name, next to me. 

“I’m still trying to figure you out.” He stated plainly. 

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, you hung around Rhysand and his cronies. Came crawling back to Day where Helion welcomed you with open arms,” I felt the room grow hotter. “So I’m simply wondering how to get you in my bed too.” One second the male had been sitting at the table and before I could even blink, he had been blasted across the room. He sat up, eyes unfocused as he put a hand to his head. All eyes turned from the male now lying on the floor to the High Lord who was picking at non-existent dirt under his nails. 

“You will not speak to any female, especially guests, like that in this court. Ever. Again.” He hardly looked up at male before he evenly said, “You’re dismissed.” Two of the other members of the court scurried to his side and helped heave him to his feet. Quickly getting him out of the room. 

“I’m sorry you all had to see that. There are many things I will tolerate but comments like that are not one of them.” Eris said to those remaining from his court. All of them nodded along, not fear but appreciation in their eyes. I felt my heart soften at his words. Beron would have let a comment like that slide, maybe even agreed with it. It would take a while, old habits run deep but Eris would squash that old cruelty out of the Autumn court piece by piece. The thin line of determination in his face told me that much. He turned his attention to me “Are you all right?” He quietly asked me. The sound of silverware clinking against plates and light conversations filled the silence from moments ago. I nodded. 

“You didn’t have to do that, you know? It’s nothing I haven’t heard before.” His mouth set into an unamused look, anger pinching his eyebrows.

“Sunbeam, I will not allow anyone to talk to…” he took a breath, about to say something but seemingly changed his mind. “I would do it again.” I knew he was telling the truth and thanked him for his kind words. 

The next few days passed too quickly. I spent the days in Eris’ presence, him waving me off when I apologized for keeping him from his duties. He assured me that making me feel as welcome as possible was a hundred percent part of his responsibilities. Both as a High Lord and a friend. Friend. I bristled at the word. Only a few more heated moments had passed throughout the days, and nothing like that night before dinner. I was wound tight and from the way his eyes kept flickering to my lips, I knew he was too. Everytime I would go to take things further, he would steal my hands or push away from me entirely. That same excuse said through gritted teeth. I didn't question it. If it happened it happened but being around him so much made it harder and harder to keep my thoughts at bay. 

This was one of those moments. I was supposed to leave the next morning and my hands were currently wrapped in Eris’ hair. My back pressed firmly against the door of his room. He peppered my neck with small bites that had my blood singing for him. I didn’t reach for his shirt this time, despite the need rushing through me. I instead went to the buttons on the front of my dress. Eris all but growled, “Gods you’ll be the death of me.” He groaned into my neck. I used my grip in his hair to pull his face back to mine. 

“Do you want me to?” I asked, suddenly feeling self conscious. 

“I would want nothing more darling but if you do, you won’t leave my bed in the morning.” He went back to kissing my neck and as he found that sweet spot right below my ear, I let the argument die on my tongue. If this was all I got from him, I would gladly take it. Regardless of how much more I wanted. 

I woke up in the morning with my lips still swollen from the rough kisses the night before. I didn’t need to look at my neck to know the angry red marks that would be faded by the time I left. I sighed at the thought and curled deeper to my blankets. Shutting out the thoughts of leaving and the heaviness that creeped into my bones. 

Eris and I spent the day with his hounds. We walked around the forest, me chasing after them as he hung back, throwing sticks after them. We laughed until our lungs hurt and his pack walked between us with ease, slipping in and out between our legs like they had been doing it all their lives. 

It was finally time for me to leave. Helion was about to come to winnow me back to the Day Court. My bags had already been sent back. And I felt the disappointment on my face as he gave me one short kiss goodbye. As he pulled away from me it felt like the ground was being pulled from under me.

“Eris.” I called to his retreating form. When his eyes met mine it was like the air had been knocked out of my lungs. It shouldn’t be possible. I felt tears well up in my eyes. This could not be happening again. I had lost this chance when my bond with Azriel had been severed. Or had I? No one had ever gone as far as I had before. I didn’t just reject the bond. Helion had pulled it from my body, completely erased it for the both of us. Did that mean I got another chance? A small voice in the back of my head remembered those dreaded words. Maybe the cauldron gets it wrong. Could this be the cauldron making it right? Looking into those amber eyes, it felt right. In fact, nothing had ever felt so right before in my life. It was never like this with Azriel. He never loved me, was never going to love me. But Eris. Eris, who was always kind to me. Eris, who always greeted me first when he visited my old court during Hlyberns reign. It all made sense now. Everything had played out for this exact moment. I took a sharp inhale as I reached out through the bond, expecting that all too familiar coldness I had been greeted with all those years ago.

 Eris’ eyes snapped to mine as his body jolted. His mouth parted, words seeming to fail him. The other side of the bond was not in fact empty. But full of warmth and love. Love for me. We could do nothing but gape at each other as that thread, as golden as the leaves around us, grew thicker as it stretched between us. 

Tears welled in my eyes at the feeling. So much comfort and love running down the bond it almost pulled me to my knees. We both stumbled forward until our arms were wrapped around each other.

“I was so worried you would never feel it.” Eris spoke into the crown of my head. 

“When…”

“The moment I saw you at the ball. The first time I saw you after you cut your bond with him.” I squeezed him as tight as my arms would allow. “I didn’t know the depth of the magic Helion had used on you, I went to talk to him after to see if it was even possible and reading that book further, we realized it was.” I pulled back just enough to look him in the eyes. The sun reflecting off of them made them honey brown. He smiled at whatever emotion I accidentally sent down the bond. 

“I’m happy it’s you Eris.” He looked shocked. “If I had to go through all of this for it to be you, then it was worth it. Every second of it.” Tears of his own trailed down his face and I placed my head against his chest, listening to his steady heartbeat.  “Don’t go. Stay here with me.” His voice reverberated deep in his chest. “You don’t have to make any decisions right now. But stay here, let me do this the right way. The way you deserved the first time.”  I could do nothing but blush and nod. My throat felt tight at all the feelings, mine and his. A breathtaking smile I had only seen him give me split across his face. My feet suddenly no longer on the ground as he picked me up. My skirt billowed out around me as he swung me lightly around, like he had on the dance floor that night. I squealed in delight and buried my face into his shoulder. Inhaling his deep earth and cinnamon scent and thanked the cauldron that it didn’t always get it right. The first time.

Copying over the people I tagged in the last one! I promise this is the last one I'll tag yall in unless you ask

@cleverzonkwombatsludge @myromanempiree @starsandsins @melmo567 @saltedcoffeescotch @daycourtofficial @anainkandpaper @leyannrae

[ephie-om]

Song: Talk Too Much: COIN

Yes I know this is 1.5 times as long as any other piece I've written for this event. A man can have favorites ok

Day 10: Diavolo

In retrospect, you really should’ve known it was him. Unfortunately, a lack of knowledge about Devildom culture and a large amount of your own insecurity had conspired to make you completely oblivious. Everyone except you had known, and for some reason, absolutely none of them had decided to come out and tell you.

It started with the classic romantic gestures, notes in your locker. They were simple little declarations of love from your secret admirer, talking about the way your eyes light up or the way you laugh when you’re not worried about how you sound. You kept them all in a shoebox stashed under your bed, worried about what the brothers might say if they found you holding onto them. They received fanmail and love letters constantly, which meant they were jaded to the prospect of any of them actually meaning anything. So you kept it a secret as best you could. Through your subterfuge, you completely failed to see that every letter on your notes was embossed with gold.

After a few weeks, you started to find flowers on your desk in the morning. Just a single blood-red rose at first, petals tipped with a deep purple. It became your daily routine to breathe in the smell, the scent bordering on bitter, but not unpleasant. You kept them hidden in your bag to take home, and the vase you kept on your nightstand was filled for the first time. Then it became three flowers, then five, and eventually you were getting full bouquets every morning, tied with a deep red silk ribbon. Your classmates didn’t pay it any particular attention, in fact, they looked away hurriedly from your flowers, so you assumed this was normal. You had to crush the flowers a bit to stuff them into your bag, but you tried your best to revive the petals once you got home. Thankfully, none of the brothers who came into your room ever commented on the three vases you now owned.

The gifts started to get a little more personal, cases of your favorite Devildom candy at your doorstep every week on the dot. Those you couldn’t hide, so when the brothers asked you about them, you were forced to explain the situation. Shockingly, they didn’t force you to surrender the candy until they could check it for poison, or rip your flowers apart to search for traces of a love potion. The biggest reaction you got was from Mammon, whose eyes flashed yellow when he sniffed the note, and he dropped it immediately. Asmo had just winked at you and told you to be careful.

Your secret admirer tripped up a few times, not that you had particularly noticed. You had found a letter in your locker for an intensive spa session, covering every area that needed attention head to toe, fully paid for. Unfortunately, none of the ingredients in the Devildom’s high-end skincare were human-safe, so you regretfully threw the paper in the trash. You received two more letters the following days, then they disappeared entirely.

Three months after the notes began, you were receiving golden jewelry on a weekly basis. You happily used all the gifts you could, relishing in the anonymous affection. You had no particular desire to know who this person was, worried that it would break the illusion. Some part of you was scared that it might all be over once they actually talked to you, so you tried to push it out of your mind.

You had mentioned your worries offhandedly to Satan, wondering how this person could be so sure of their love for someone they had never met. Satan had snorted derisively at you and refused to answer, so you stormed off. Your mind held onto his reaction, and now you were worried that your suspicions were justified. You resolved to put an end to the situation, so you wrote a note to your admirer and placed it in your locker after your last class of the day. The note kindly asked them to meet you at a small, out-of-the-way coffee shop the next day so that you could break the news to them.

That was how you found yourself in front of your closet trying to decide what to wear to break up with someone you weren’t even dating. You sighed, tossing another pair of pants into the rejected pile on your bed. You had tried to get Asmo to help you with the outfit, but he had made some half-assed excuse about a hair emergency and left you to your own devices. You finally settled on a black pair of ripped jeans with a sage green cropped t-shirt and a thin gold chain, before you realized that the necklace was from your admirer. You threw it on the floor in frustration, running your hands through your hair. You didn’t have enough time to match more jewelry, so you gave up and headed out.

The rusty hinges squeaked as you pushed open the heavy door. The rich smell of espresso hit your nostrils, and for a moment it reminded you of the roses in your room. You glanced around the room to find that you were the only one here. Since you got here early, you ordered a drink and settled yourself at a corner table, waiting. Anxiety twisted your stomach and you fidgeted with your fingers, grateful when your drink came out so your hands had something to hold onto.

The door screeched again as a massive demon walked in, having to stoop to fit through the frame. The demon behind the counter froze in their tracks, eyes wide. The pit in your stomach faded as you recognized Diavolo. You let out a slow breath, relieved. His eyes swept the room, finally finding you. You waved at him happily. “What are you doing here?” you asked cheerily.

He swallowed hard. “I’m here because someone asked me to meet them.”

“Oh, I’m meeting someone too! You could sit with me until they get here if you want.”

He sighed. For some reason, the sight of the smile on your face didn’t cheer him up, which was odd for him. “I’m here to meet you,” he finally admitted.

The pieces had only just started to come together in your head, but you weren’t ready to think about it just yet. “You came to meet me?”

He nodded, a deep red blush across his cheeks. He settled his large frame into the chair across from you, not quite meeting your eyes. “Your note sounded bad.”

“My note?”

He looked at you, a mixture of embarrassment and disappointment in his eyes. “The note you left in your locker. You titled it “to my secret admirer”. I thought I’d done a terrible job at keeping it secret.”

You blinked at him, your mouth opening and closing like a fish. “It was you?”

He laughed nervously. “Of course it was me. I really thought you knew.”

You took a few more moments to process the revelation, burning your mouth on your drink twice. He looked at you curiously. “So what did you want to tell me?”

You wanted to tell your secret admirer that since he didn’t know you, the relationship would never work. You wanted to tell him the constant gifts set a standard you weren’t sure you could reciprocate. You wanted to tell him that since he was Diavolo, none of that mattered any more.

It was your turn to go bright red. “Nothing.”

“Nothing?” he asked bemusedly.

“Nope.” You fiddle with your cup, melting under his gaze. “Just… thank you. For all the gifts and the notes and everything.”

He laughed. “You don’t have to say that if you didn’t like them.”

“What do you mean, I didn’t like them? I loved them.”

“I watched you stuff an entire bouquet of roses in the bottom of your schoolbag and keep them there for eight hours. To me, that doesn’t say you liked them.”

You wanted to crawl under the table. “I loved them. I’m just so sick of the brothers trying to keep everything unknown away from me and I was worried they would, I don’t know, find you and kill you.”

“Well, it wasn’t exactly unknown. The minute I figured out I was in love with you I told Lucifer.”

You gaped at him and he just shrugged in response.

“He’s my right hand man. He knows everything he needs to know, and you live in his house, so he needed to know. I gave very clear instructions for none of his brothers to interfere in any way,” he said, so nonchalantly he might be talking about the weather rather than his attempted wooing of you.

He shifted his hand slowly across the table, looking away. You narrowed your eyes; you were onto his games now. “You can just hold my hand.”

He grinned. “Really?”

You grabbed his hand first. His large hands might have been even warmer than your drink as he stroked your knuckles with his thumb gently. His golden eyes shined, and he made eye contact with you as he brought your hand to his mouth and kissed it softly. You can’t keep the smile off your face, and you saw it mirrored on his mouth. He set your hands back on the table, savoring the moment.

You gasped as you were struck with a sudden realization. “Diavolo, you shouldn’t be doing this in public. Someone could see us!”

He laughed heartily. “My dear, you already did most of the work for me by picking such an inconspicuous place. All I had to do was kindly speak with the owner.” He motioned towards the door, which now had the ‘Closed’ sign facing outwards. He winked at you when your gaze traveled back to his face. “Perks of dating the ruler of the Devildom.”

You grinned back at him. “I like the sound of that.”

[somber-sapphic]

Undignified

〖Summary: Caitlyn wakes up in Vi's bed with a nasty fever.〗

〖Word Count: ~500〗

〖Pairing: Caitvi〗

〖Notes: Wow would you look at that, I wrote something! This is super short because I don't know the characters well yet. So sorry for any inaccuracies, I've only seen the show once. Please be nice, I haven't actually written anything in over half a year.〗

☾Masterlists☽

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

Caitlyn woke with gasp, followed by a series of rough coughs that shook her to her core as she tried to claw her way out of the blanket tucked around her. She didn't fully recognize her surroundings, the room was dark and small, but cozy in a way. She certainly wasn’t in Piltover, the lack of glistening white marble and sounds of fighting outside were enough to tell her that. So she was in the Undercity, that could only mean one thing.

“Easy there cupcake.” Vi murmured, a calloused hand settling on her forehead. Caitlyn stilled, the sound of her voice instantly calming her. It didn’t matter where she was anymore, she knew that she would be safe with Vi. The pink haired woman would keep her out of any real danger. With the question of her safety settled, Caitlyn allowed herself to look inward to her aching limbs and foggy head. 

“I’m ill?” She croaked, blinking up at the blurry figure of her girlfriend. No matter how hard she blinked she couldn’t manage to clear her vision, it was irritating. Being ill was irritating. She had so much to do, she had no time for this. Unfortunately frustration was not enough to stave off the fever that was keeping her practically nailed to the bed. She could barely keep her eyes open. 

“That's an understatement. I found you half conscious in an alley, figured it’d be better to take you here. That way I can keep an eye on you.” Vi brushed a strand of navy blue hair behind Caitlyn’s ear, studying her face with careful scrutiny. The enforcers skin was paper white, the fever flush on her cheeks making her appear even more frail. Her eyes were sunken, filled with anguish. 

The past few weeks had been tough on her, tougher than she’d ever truly let on. Vi knew to some extent, understood the wordless looks and touches that lasted longer than they needed to. There was never any doubt about the internal struggle Caitlyn had been waging, but also no conversation. There was no time for that conversation.

A barking cough tore itself from her lungs, the grating feeling scraping across her dry throat. She was too tired to lift a hand to cover her mouth, but she still tried to muffle the fit into the blanket. She was a woman of status after all, she needed to hold onto some decorum. 

She felt a cool glass press against her lips, a hand propping her head up so that she could drink. She took large, grateful sips, the liquid soothing her throat. 

“Thanks.” She mumbled, turning towards the hands that were holding her up. She wanted to be nearer to Vi, she felt alone without her touch. It was undignified, but there was no fight left in her. She needed comfort, the strong warrior had gone and replaced her with a weak, sick woman.

“Will you…lay with me? I’m cold…” Caitlyn murmured, emphasizing her point with a painful shiver. Her body couldn’t even do her the kindness of allowing her to be cold in peace, the body aches were enough to make her tear up. Vi grunted quietly and made her way under the blanket, wrapping the taller woman up in her arms. Caitlyn shifted so that she could place her head on Vi’s chest, taking comfort in her rhythmic breathing and steady heartbeat. She could allow herself this peace for a little while, just until her fever broke. 

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[tiredofthehumanlife]

Exquisite bedding and a loving married couple

Part two

Barbie dolls: husband! president!Coriolanus Snow x gn! Reader

Word: 3.4k

Summary: you grow closer to your husband (of who you were forced to marry 😱) also you have chronic pain/ a disability in that area it's left vague so everybody can enjoy and not just me

Warnings: I won't lie to you he's a good amount ooc but this is because I wrote this before I finished the book and before I watched the movie so I only knew academy coriolanus, so maybe just pretend like everything worked out for and became president nicely idk, you have chronic pain/ a disability that makes your body hurt idk just roll with me, forced marriages, you like art now it's like all you do, non sexual nudity, you make friends with the Avoxes that work for him, you cry, you say you're defective and coryo is like "hey hurumph dont do that🙅", yeah that's it really

Coriolanus didn’t exactly know what was expected of him during a forced marriage. He didn’t hate you, but he didn’t exactly like you very much either. He didn’t even know your favorite color and now you both shared a house, bed, and a last name. What is he supposed to do? 

You didn’t seem to like him very much either. You barely spoke, only saying a few words to the Avoxes and even fewer to him. Sometimes he questioned if you were an avox yourself, and then you’d mutter to yourself and it was crossed from his mind.

You rarely looked at him, often just floating around the mansion like a ghost and glancing at him when he tried to ask you a question. Coriolanus doubted you even knew his name at this point.

Sometimes you’d leave him notes clipped to his hanger holding up his suit for the work day. They were never anything of substance just a question you had about the house or a question about the things you were allowed to do. Coriolanus had no idea why you were asking him if you could go on a walk, he didn’t really care what you did ever as long as you made it back to the mansion in one piece and didn’t spread rumors about him.

You did share a bed and that was about as close as you two got. You slept on either side of the quite large bed and pretended the other person didn’t exist. 

As time passed you seemed to settle into the new house and new life. You had fluffy, useless conversations over dinner. It wasn’t much but it was better than the silent treatment. You learned every Avox’s name in the mansion. You started leaving notes asking for utensils that he assumed were for your hobbies.

He didn’t know any of the names but he still took the list to a craft store and let an employee handle it. Coriolanus left it in the sunroom you had claimed as your own. You spent all your time in there, staring out at the gardens in the backyard. He wondered why you didn’t just walk in the gardens but he wasn’t pushing it.

A small hint of a smile graced your features when you sat in that room and it was the happiest he’d seen you in the mansion so he wasn’t asking you any questions. He left the bags from the craft store on the rounded wooden coffee table. Coriolanus left a card with his initials on it in front of the bags. He hoped it’d give him some positive credit in your heart. 

The next day when he came home from work he peaked into the sun room to see it had been taken over by your presence. Art supplies and half-finished works were scattered everywhere.

You were sat on the luxurious chaise with a pattern that reminded him of the Grandma’am’s dresses. You had color and white streaks on your face, your hands were filthy, and you were fanning yourself with a piece of paper like the excitement made you break a sweat. All that mess would’ve made him upset. Imagine if you got that paint on the furniture. All the negative thoughts he conjured up washed away the second he saw the happy and relaxed look on your face. You looked at home. Coriolanus left it and slipped away from the door without gaining your attention. 

After that, he felt like you truly getting comfortable. Especially with him. He thought you might even like him more than an acquaintance. You started leaving compliments on his hangers instead of questions and lists.

Coriolanus still remembers reading the first one and blushing like a schoolboy. He shoved the note into the top drawer of his dresser and ignored the burning on his cheeks. Strangely enough, he started to find your art everywhere. He found a new small vase on his dresser one day. It was very small. It could hold maybe three or four flowers but it wasn’t the size that caught his attention. On the white background of the ceramic vase were little engraved roses. He thought of you being observant enough to notice him wearing them.

Coriolanus wasn’t sure how to thank you. He took a page from your metaphorical book and left a note to you on your dresser. He spoke of how he wanted to thank you but didn’t know what would bring his message across. Initially, he had thought of buying you some fancy jewelry on the ride home but it didn’t seem like something you would enjoy. He suggested an art thingy you really wanted. 

You thanked him for the note over dinner and started rattling off all about the art supplies you loved and all the art facts you knew. He couldn’t understand a word of what you said but still nodded along and hummed. A smile and sparkle in your eye had found your face. Coriolanus didn’t realize your face could make that expression. Halfway through one of your sentences your face fell. You stopped speaking and looked down at your plate. Coriolanus stared at you, wondering what could’ve provoked you to lose all of your energy like that. You shook your head like you were disappointed in yourself. 

“Sorry, I know you probably don’t want to listen to me talk all night. How was work?” You said, keeping your eyes on your plate. Coriolanus’ brain worked a thousand miles to catch up with yours. He sat back in his chair, wiping at the corners of his mouth. 

“I was listening. I was quite enjoying it, actually. That French painter used to eat yellow paint? Right? And I’d rather not speak of my work. It’s draining enough there much less coming home to talk about it.” Coriolanus said, making you lift your head. Your smile hadn’t returned but your defeated shoulders left. You looked him up and down. 

“He was actually Dutch. He just lived in France.” You muttered. He actually didn’t mean to mess his facts up but he was glad it got you talking again. You straightened up, a quarter of your spirits returning. “Also he didn’t eat the paint so he could ingest the happiness, as many believe. He tried to poison himself with it.” You said. Coriolanus scribbled down on his mental notes about you; you could not stand an incorrect art fact. He knew how to get you talking now. 

He thought everything was going so well too. The day had been pretty good. There was a note on his suit that complimented the tie he set out. Work was work but today felt less grueling with your simple compliment stirring in his head all day. He found a tiny ceramic cat snoozing away on top of his dresser. That he quite enjoyed.

Coriolanus said so over dinner as well. Your energy was lower, only answering with short responses. He tried to raise your energy by asking about what art project you worked on today but even that couldn’t pull you out of your slump. He assumed you must’ve had a rough night. Though he didn’t remember you tossing and turning. 

An Avox had ran you a warm bath after dinner. Though after you had slipped into the water, they started helping with the work in the kitchen. Coriolanus personally wouldn’t spend so much time in the bath but he wasn’t you so what did he know?

After he finished dressing for bed and setting out his suit, he maneuvered his way to your shared bathroom to brush his teeth. Sure he could’ve walked a few feet down the hallway to another unoccupied bathroom but strangely enough he missed your presence. He raised his hand to knock on the door but paused when he heard sniffling on the other side. Coriolanus wondered if the right thing to do was to go hide in the bedroom until you left the bathroom, go use the other bathroom and ignore your struggles, or knock. 

He rapped his knuckles against the wood, leaning his ear towards the door. Coriolanus raised his voice so you could hear him, but his tone remained soft.  He said he needed to use the sink and would be in and out in a few minutes. He waited for you to answer. You called for him to come in.

Coriolanus gently pushed open the door and tried to meet your eyes. You were sunken low into the bubbling water, only your face from the nose up present. You stared at the bathroom wall, avoiding his gaze. Coriolanus moved to the sink and brushed his teeth as fast as he could without disregarding their health. When he finished he turned back to the tub, feeling strange just standing there staring at you in the bath. 

“Are you okay?” He whispered. You sniffed and splashed the bubbles against the bathtub wall. You nodded, making waves in the soapy water. 

“Are you sure? I heard crying from outside the door.” He said, pointing over at the closed door. Your chin surfaced over the water. You turned to face him. Your eyes were red and it was entirely evident you had been crying for a long time. 

“Nosey.” You said, just barely passing over a breath. Coriolanus sank to his knees next to the edge of the bathtub. 

“I can help. Promise. I just don’t know what’s wrong.” He explained that like you didn’t get it. You fully understood without his help. You sighed and dropped your head back against the bathtub wall. 

“Promise you won’t judge me?” You asked, peeking an eye at him. Coriolanus tried to think of something that would cause you to cry in the bath and make him judge you. He came up with nothing. He shook his head. Your hand splashed out from the bubbles, holding out your pinkie towards him. Coriolanus intertwined his pinkie with yours, shaking it slightly to signify the deal. 

“Sometimes my body hurts. Really bad. So bad I stay up at night crying because it won’t stop. It makes just living really difficult. Sometimes I feel like I can’t move because I know if I do it will hurt more so I just plop myself into one spot and don’t move.” Coriolanus was shocked he hadn’t been able to deduce this before. No wonder you didn't walk in the gardens or meander about the mansion. You found a room and stayed there. He really wasn’t observant apparently. Coriolanus slipped his hand into the water, soaking his pajama shirt sleeve. Coriolanus’ hand found yours immediately. He intertwined his fingers with yours, running a thumb over the back of your hand soothingly. You sniffled again, glancing over at the wall before looking back at him. 

“Earlier today it started to flare up but I thought it would be manageable. It started really hurting at dinner but I knew I just had a few more things to do and then the day would be over. But now I feel like I can’t move, it hurts so bad I can’t stand up. I can’t even call Mavvy because she's in the kitchen. It hurts, so much I don’t know how I can get out of this stupid bathtub.” You said. Your frustration boiled over and slapped your other hand against the water. It splashed Coriolanus on the cheek. He was going to say that was quite rude of you but you slumped against the side of the tub in such a pitiful way he couldn’t bear to say anything mean to you.

Coriolanus wasn’t sure who Mavvy was but he could assume she was one of the Avoxes that work in his mansion. He hummed and reached for your face. He gently brushed away a tear from your cheek though it didn’t matter much because all your skin was wet. 

“Let me help you out,” Coriolanus said, squeezing your hand under the water. You straightened your head, staring at him with a strange expression. 

“Are you sure? I can do it. I can. It will take me a long time and a lot of tears but I can do it. You don’t have to. You’d have to change your pajamas and everything.” You said. Coriolanus lifted your hand from the water and gently pressed his lips to the back of your hand. 

“I don’t mind. Let me help, I want to.” Coriolanus said. You huffed and nodded. You slowly pulled yourself up into a sitting position. You clenched your teeth in the process. Coriolanus wondered how badly it burned just to sit up, but by the look on your face, he didn’t want to find out. Coriolanus slipped your intertwined hand over his head, pulling your arm over his shoulder. He pulled his arm around your waist and tugged you closer to his body. You’d need all the support you could get to leave the tub. 

“Ready?” Coriolanus whispered. You sucked in a deep breath and nodded. Coriolanus counted down from three before pulling your body up. You groaned in the process and clutched his hand tighter. Your legs shuffled and you finally pressed your feet to the bottom of the tub. Coriolanus tried to pull you higher into a standing position. You gasped and flung your free hand out to brace against the wall. 

“Stop. Stop. Just wait a second.” Pain pulled at your words and he wondered if you were going to cry again. It hurt holding his half-standing half-squatting position but he knew it couldn’t hold a candle flame to your pain. The way you were gasping like a fire was set to your skin every time he moved a centimeter made him wish he was a stone statue. You steadied your breathing and knocked your hand against his chest. He took it as a signal to continue. Coriolanus tugged you up onto your feet and you were finally standing in the tub. You let out a shaky breath and pressed your head against his shoulder. 

It took a lot of time and effort but eventually, Coriolanus was able to pull your wet body into your shared bedroom. He helped you sit down on the edge of the bed, a few curses following after you. He skittered into the bathroom and brought a towel back to you. You tried to argue against it but he waved you off and sank to his knees in front of you. Coriolanus dried off your body. He tried his hardest to move your limbs slowly, to not cause more harm. Your body was dry after a few minutes and he flung the towel away, helping you shuffle up towards your spot on the bed. Coriolanus helped tuck you in, apologizing when his wrong move made you groan. 

Coriolanus sat next to you on the bed, caressing your face in hopes of it soothing you. You hummed and leaned into his touch. You opened your eyes and looked at him sadly. 

“Sorry.” You whispered. He wondered if it hurt to talk louder but didn’t want to ask you questions about it. You had enough going on right now, evidently. 

“For what?” Coriolanus asked, rubbing his thumb over your cheekbone. You shrugged, wincing after. 

“Being defective, I guess. You should’ve gotten a better deal with this whole marriage thing.” You leaned your head against your pillow and stared at the sheets. Coriolanus felt his heart squeeze. It was preposterous. Truly. For you to think this way about yourself. He shook his head, leaning down to put his face in your line of sight. 

“You are not defective. I wouldn’t want anyone else to marry. Just because you have any disability or health problems does not mean I’m itching to send you away. I know our marriage wasn’t exactly out of passion but I’ve grown to care for you. I want you to be happy and comfortable. I’ll carry you for the rest of my life if it brings a smile to your face.” Coriolanus brushed his knuckle against your temple. You leaned your face into his hand, closing your eyes. Coriolanus leaned down and pressed his forehead against yours for a moment. 

“Thank you, Mr. Snow.” You whispered. Coriolanus pulled back and snorted. You glared at him, turning your head away from him. 

“Please, Coriolanus.” He thought about telling you to call him Coryo but he decided he should let you warm up to him more. You nodded and slowly moved your hand towards his and held onto it. 

That night he was sure that you two were sleeping closer. You were both on opposite sides of the bed but you were still latched onto his hand. In the large space between you two, that he once visualized as a brick wall, were your clasped hands. You didn’t move in your sleep, still in the position he helped you into last night when he woke up. Coriolanus wiggled around in his sleep but his hand was still with yours when his alarm went off. 

He gently pulled his hand away from yours and slowly sat up. Coriolanus worried if he moved the mattress too much it would cause you more pain. It hurt so bad yesterday that just him moving your leg up from the floor made you wince. Coriolanus doubted one sleep would make it better.

Coriolanus turned off his alarm and sat still on the edge of the mattress with his back turned to you. He wished he could just fling himself back into bed and never leave again. He wondered if he could call in sick, his partner was sick.

Coriolanus sighed and rubbed his face, hoping it would brush away the fatigue. He was startled when a hand ran down his back. Coriolanus turned his head back and saw you staring at him. Your face was evidence enough of your long night. Your eyes were droopy and you looked at him in a way that made him sure you had plenty of struggles falling asleep with pain coursing through your body. Coriolanus leaned to the side, taking your hand away from his back and into his palm. 

“Thank you.” You whispered, sleep still pulling your words into the sheets with you. Coriolanus shook his head and rubbed the back of your hand again. 

“I don't need thanks. I wanted to help you.” He said. Coriolanus leaned over the bed next to you. Your eyebrows pinched when the mattress sank under his weight and he mentally smacked himself for it. You nodded in acceptance of his words. He gently brought your knuckles to his lips again. When he pulled back he found your eyes had shut. Coriolanus reached up and gently brushed your temple with his thumb. Your eyes opened and you stared at him. 

“Take it easy today, okay? Don't push yourself.” He whispered, his lips still close enough to your hand that you could feel his breath. You nodded and slowly scooted further down the mattress. It didn't look like it caused too much pain but you squeezed your eyes shut all the same. 

Coriolanus didn't get a note on his hanger today, though he wasn't surprised. Apparently, you couldn't let him leave the house without a compliment to think of during the day because your quiet voice called out to him as he reached for the bedroom door. Coriolanus turned back and raised an eyebrow at you in question. You complimented how the suit brought his eyes with your cheek pressed against your pillow and your eyes falling shut despite the fight you put up. He thanked you and headed for the front door.

On his path there he ran into an Avox. He told her Mavvy needed to be within calling distance of you at all times today. Her lips twitched for a second before she schooled it that told him he was talking to Mavvy. The Avox nodded in understanding and he left for work. 

When he returned from work, you were still in bed. You had changed positions in bed, laying on your side with a book open. In the corner of the room was the Avox he spoke to this morning, sat in a wooden chair and reading her own book. You lifted your head when the door opened, smiling at Coriolanus brightly. It must've been a really boring day if you were this excited over seeing him.

Coriolanus spent the rest of the evening in bed with you. He asked Mavvy to tell the rest of the maids and butlers that dinner was going to be served in the bedroom that night. He liked eating dinner with you at the table, but he liked this much more. Coriolanus felt like you two were actually a loving married couple. You were more relaxed this way, laughing and cracking jokes that made him snort.

If he didn't know you barely liked him as a friend, he would've kissed you. Coriolanus was okay with this though, laughing with you and eating your dinner in the exquisite bedding.

Part two

[weareapackofstrays]

Come Light Me Up // Ji Changmin

Genre: Non-Idol college au, classmates to lovers?

Pairing: Changmin (Q) x F!Reader

Warnings: Smut, Cursing, Masturbation. MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!

Word Count: 3,305

A/n: Loosely inspired by a dream I had last night. Wrote this one quickly so there will probably be some mistakes. Graphics by @saradika-graphics!

It was the start of a new semester. While the first day of classes made some students nervous, you looked forward to it. Everything smelled like fresh books, paper, and ink. There were only two more semesters left until graduation and you couldn’t contain your excitement. A few of your classes this semester were completely online, which was convenient for you since you had to take on a few extra shifts to pay for this year's books and labs. 

After clicking the zoom link to start your first class of the day, you scan over the 20 or so faces blinking back at you for anyone familiar. While you recognize a few students from previous classes, one unfamiliar face grabs your attention most. Your eyes fall on a man who you had not seen before. He is dressed in a simple black t-shirt and grey sweats. You notice he is sitting on his bed as if he just woke up and his ruffled dark hair definitely looks suspiciously like bedhead. He was too casual and it irked you. While you weren’t a perfectionist, you still felt like how you presented yourself on the first day of class set a precedent for the rest of the semester. You force your attention away from him to focus on your Professor’s greetings. 

As class progressed you kept catching yourself staring at the student who you learned was named Changmin. He seemed so uninterested in class and it looked like something was distracting him off camera. It annoyed you and you weren’t sure why. Did you find him attractive? Of course. Changmin was very good looking, but he gave off douchey vibes so you did your best to pay him no mind. A task that would prove difficult.

The days pass by and you still find yourself totally bothered by this guy. Your eyes kept finding Changmin on the screen every time you attended class. And to make things worse, even though he never seemed like he was listening to the lecture, he still got every answer correct when the professor asked. It was starting to piss you off. I’m sure if anyone was watching you they could visibly see your annoyance and unbeknownst to you, someone was watching. Sometimes you would catch Changmin’s eyes staring right into the camera and you could swear they were looking back at you. But there was no way…right? 

If there was anything he was paying attention to, it was you. Changmin noticed you on the first day of class too and every time you popped up on the screen he would look you over. He found it amusing the way you would be dressed up, make up done, even for a Zoom class. Like today for example, your hair was in a half updo, clipped back with a large pink bow. You were wearing what he assumed was either a blouse or dress with puffy white sleeves that only annoyingly teased your cleavage. He couldn’t tell if you had lipstick on, but your lips looked particularly glossy…and delicious. Changmin could tell you were the type to be a teacher’s pet and the idea of corrupting you started to quickly creep into his mind. He watched every facial expression of yours, noticing how excited you would get when you knew the answer to something and the way you’d grow agitated every time he beat you to the answer. Your perfect facade faltering before him. He especially loved the way your lips would pout when you were trying to concentrate. It drove him crazy. He could no longer hold back so he decided to take a chance.

-

During the third week of class, your Professor announced that there would be a test coming up this Friday. You tried to remain calm, but the thought of a test so soon gave you anxiety. A ding from your zoom chat pops up interrupting your thoughts. It’s a private message from a classmate. You squint at your screen to see who the message is from. Surely, you must be misreading. It was from Changmin?! 

Changmin: hey, wanna study together? 

You have not actually interacted with Changmin before, in fact, you're not even sure you have ever exchanged words. The extent of your interactions was usually him saying something that bothered you and you rolling your eyes at him several times throughout the class. You continue to stare at his message. Hesitating for a few more moments, you finally start to type. Changmin watches you intently, anticipating your reply.

Y/n: Why do you want to study with me?

Changmin smiles while reading your message. 

Changmin: because we’re probably the only two in this class who actually give a shit 

You snort, forgetting your audio is on and quickly rush to mute yourself. Changmin watches your cheeks turn pink with embarrassment and laughs. Even though the conversation is private, you still look around at the other classmates nervously wondering if they know what’s going on.  

Changmin: you’re cute

You bite your lip to hold back a smile not wanting to give him the satisfaction. Changmin watches you roll your eyes at him, as you usually do, and it ignites his hunger further. 

Y/n: Fine.  Changmin: i’ll zoom you tomorrow night? Y/n: Sure, 8pm tomorrow then. Just ping me. Changmin: 8 is kind of late, no?

You glare at him briefly before responding.

Y/n: I get off work at 7:00 so I will need some time to get back and change. Changmin: sounds good. I’ll call you at 8pm sharp. Can’t wait!

Ignoring his last message, you turn your attention back to the Professor. Changmin can’t erase the grin on his face for the rest of class.

-

The next day you rush home after work to hop in the shower. Butterflies start to dance in your belly, but you do your best to shoo them away. You consider dressing up like you usually do for class, but worry Changmin will think you’re trying too hard. Ugh, why do you care what Changmin thinks, Y/n? You settle on a t-shirt and shorts with some cozy socks. Looking at the clock on your laptop, you start to feel the nerves as the time approaches 8pm. You continue to look at the clock and your watch every few seconds until finally the Zoom call notification pops up on your desktop. Shooting up from your chair, you quickly take a look in the mirror one last time to check your appearance before answering. 

“Changmin.” You say simply, lacking any emotion.

“Y/n,” he responds with a hint of amusement. 

You grab your textbook and open it. “I figured we could start from the beginning to refresh our memory first before diving into the most recent lectures.”

Changmin smiles, placing a pair of black rimmed glasses on. He looks good and he knows it. “Whatever you say.” He reaches for his book as well and opens it to the first chapter. “I’m all yours.” You grimace and give him a pointed look. He laughs and you watch the way his Adam's apple bobs on his long neck. He crosses his arms in front of him and your attention shifts to the curve of his biceps. Changmin is wearing a white t-shirt and what look to be his usual grey sweats. He notices your attention and tilts his head curiously. “Are we going to get started?” Your eyes dart up to meet his realizing you’ve been caught looking at him. You clear your throat and thumb through a few pages. 

Changmin actually turns out to be a decent study partner and you're shocked at how thorough his notes are. After about 20 minutes into your study session, Changmin decides he’s bored and wants to change the subject.

“Why do you get dressed up for every class?” You look up from your note taking and cock an eyebrow at him.

“I could ask you the same.” 

“But I don't.” 

“Exactly.” You throw him a sarcastic smile. He smirks in response.

“So…?” He’s waiting for your answer. You sigh and place your pen down. 

“Because I can.”

He nods. “Fair enough.”

“Why do you care?” you ask, resuming your writing.

Changmin places his thumb and index finger on his chin to ponder. When he doesn't immediately reply you look back up at him. “I suppose I just find it interesting when the rest of the class are practically in pajamas or off camera. Are you trying to impress someone?”

“Maybe I just like looking my best.”

“But right now you look pretty casual.”

You look down at your attire and internally curse. Maybe you should have dressed up. As if reading your thoughts, Changmin quickly adds, “Not that you don’t look good. I like the way you look tonight too.”

You’re not sure how to reply to his flirtation attempt so you try to get back on task. 

“I think the Professor is definitely going to have chapter 3 on the exam. He dedicated two of our lectures to it so I think we should review our mutual notes.”

Changmin pushes back on his chair, balancing on the back legs. He places his hands behind his head. “Mhmm,” he simply hums in agreement. You look up from your book and notice Changmin’s shirt has ridden up, exposing his midriff. His stomach is taut and toned. You try to continue your thought, but end up stuttering over your words. He reaches down and rubs his abs and that’s when you notice the veins leading down his stomach disappearing into his briefs. Changmin’s legs are slightly parted, giving you a full view of his lean body.

“Um,” You try to compose yourself, but struggle. “We..um..page 46…” Words fail as you start to imagine where those thick veins lead to. 

“What was that, Y/n? Didn’t quite catch what you said.” You look at him and frown. He’s teasing you and you know it.

“What are you doing?” You ask, impatience in your tone. 

“I see the way you watch me in class, Y/n.” Pleasure shoots down your spine and you shiver. 

Attempting to feign ignorance, you turn away. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” 

“Yes, you do. I watch you too. Every time I see you roll your eyes at me I think about stuffing my cock down your throat to teach you a lesson.” You drop the pen in your hand. 

“Wh-what did you just say?” 

Changmin leans into the camera. His eyes shift down to stare at your mouth. “I think about the way those pretty lips would feel wrapped around my dick.” He closes his eyes briefly and moans as if imagining it right now. “Drives me wild. I look forward to seeing you every class. Thinking about ways I can piss you off.” 

“Changmin…you shouldn’t say these things,” you squeak.

“I’ll stop if you really want me to.” He leans back in his chair again and crosses his arms. The veins on his toned forearms poke out and you gulp at the thought of them around you, his hands gripping your neck. You shake your head to rid yourself of these thoughts. Changmin smirks and meets your eyes. “Do you want me to stop?” He palms his groin and you realize he’s hard.

“Fuck,” you say to yourself. Changmin places a hand around the outline of his dick and starts to stroke himself. You bite your lip as you watch him, feeling yourself growing wetter with each stroke. His eyes are on you as he slowly rubs up and down. A low groan escapes his throat.

“No,” you finally say.

“No what?” His voice is hoarse. 

“No, don’t stop.”

Changmin pushes his sweats down slightly to give you a better view of his hard dick and for better access. 

“Like what you see?” You nod enthusiastically and he chuckles.

“Does baby wanna see my cock?” You nod again.

“Use your words, Y/n,” he says sternly.

“Yes,” you whisper.

“I can’t hear you, baby.”

“Yes, I wanna see it.” Your voice is more confident. 

“And what will you give me in return?” 

Meeting his eyes, you ask, “What do you want, Changmin?” 

“Take your shirt off.”

Completely committed to whatever this game is, you agree to pull your shirt over your head, leaving you just in your pink lacy bra. 

“Mmm so pretty. What type of pants are you wearing?” 

You tilt the screen of your laptop to give him a view of your whole body. You’re in a pair of sleep shorts. Pushing your desk chair out of the way, you stand. Changmin looks you up and down, finally getting the chance to admire your full form.

“Take your pants off, sweetheart.” 

You shake your head. “Your shirt first.” 

Changmin considers refusing you, but he thinks your demanding tone is hot and does as you say. His body is chiseled. You’re surprised at how tiny his waist is and it makes your mouth water. Starry eyed and mouth agape, you stare unabashedly now as he resumes touching himself.

“Y/n, take your shorts off.” He is growing impatient with each touch of his hand. You stand and drop them to the floor, revealing a matching pink lace thong.

“You got all dressed up for me, baby?”

“No…”

“I bet you wanted to show it off. Hoped this would happen, huh? Fucking slut.”

You scoff. “You’re so full of yourself.” Despite your words, you can feel how aroused you are. Feeling bold, you sit on the edge of your bed and spread your legs, giving him a view of your clothed pussy.

“Fuck, Y/n.” He starts to stroke himself faster.

“Take your pants off, Changmin.” 

“Ooh, say my name again, baby!” he moans.

“Please Changmin,” you whine as need starts to take over you.

He stands and slides his sweats off. The head of his cock is peeking out of his briefs and you lean towards the camera a little for a better view. You want to touch yourself, but still feeling shy, you resign to rubbing your thighs instead. He sits back down, keeping his legs spread for you.

“I want to see your boobs.” 

You chuckle and unhook your bra without hesitation. You're horny and want this as much as him now. He watches it fall to the ground. You move closer to the camera so he can see your breasts better and now his mouth drops. You smile at the way his body reacts to you.

“You’re so fucking gorgeous, Y/n. I just want to wrap my lips around your tits. Swirl my tongue until your nipples are hard.” You suck in a breath trying to hold back a moan. “Are they hard right now?” He wonders aloud.

You gently rub over your nipple knowing full well they’re erect. “Yes,” you say.

“Fuck I bet they taste amazing.”

“I wanna taste you, Min.” His eyes widen, surprised by your candor. 

“Yeah, baby? Want me to fill your mouth with my come?” You nod eagerly.

“Let me see you,” you demand.

He shakes his head. “Need you to earn it, baby girl. What do I get in return if I take my cock out for you?” You take a moment to think, then sit back on your bed. Leaning on your hands, you spread your legs wide again and dip your fingers into your panties. A breathy moan escapes you at the contact. Changmin groans in response. “Yeah, baby. Touch yourself, like that.” You toss your head back at the feeling of your fingers on your sensitive clit. “Don’t take your eyes off of me, Y/n.” You face him again and continue to rub while he stares. 

“Well?” You moan out. He nods understanding your question. Changmin lifts his waist and pushes his briefs off. His cock springs back, slapping against his abs while precum dripples down the sides. He looks so hard and you can tell he needs relief. You lick your lips at the sight of his long cock. “Touch yourself too, Changmin. Get off with me.”

“Fuck yeah, baby.” He spits in his hand and starts to fist his cock, squeezing his red tip with each pump. You pick up your pace, the sounds of your arousal and his slick fist echo around you. Your breathing starts to quicken and you can’t stop the moans that leave your lips. “Stick your fingers inside and pretend it’s me.” You do as you're told and try to reach your sensitive spot.

“Mmm not enough. I need you, baby,” you whine.

“I know, I wish I was there with you. Next time.”

“Next time?”

“Yeah, next time I’ll come over and fuck you for real.”

“Come over now then.”

“But you look so pretty touching yourself for me.” He tries to match your pace as you push in and out of yourself spreading your wetness back over your clit.

“Feels so good, Min. Wish you could have a taste.”

“Oh, fuuckkk. Baby, have a taste for me.” You pause momentarily, never having tasted yourself before, but you want to please him. Removing your fingers, you insert them into your mouth and sigh at the taste on your tongue. Changmin curses and starts to pump faster.

“Such a, fuck…such a good girl.” He can’t hide his moans anymore and you're surprised at how high pitched they are. It turns you on further so you return your fingers to your clit to rub harder. “I’m close, Y/n. So fucking close, but I wanna come with you.”

“Wait.” Impatiently, you take your panties off giving him a full view of your pussy. Changbin bites his lip as he looks over your body, watching the way your face contorts as you pleasure yourself. His orgasm is fast approaching.

“I can’t wait to fuck you, baby. I’m going to destroy you.” His words help bring you closer to your release, pleasure building with each bump to your clit. Your ministrations increase and you can feel the band about to snap. 

“Min, I’m, I’m-” tears start to spring at the corners of your eyes. You’re so close. “Ah, ah, ah, ah.” Your cries increase. 

“Yea, baby, fuck! I’m gonna come too.”

“I’m…Changmin, I’m…coming!” You gasp. Changmin shouts your name as he comes with you, spilling white hot liquid over his hand. He continues to pump himself through his orgasm and you do the same. Moaning and rubbing until your thighs start to shake. He looks into your eyes as the two of you try to recover your breathing. You can feel your heartbeat in your ears. 

“Y/n, you’re so beautiful,” Changmin says suddenly. The compliment makes your heart flutter. He looks down at his covered hand, amazed at how hard he came. 

“If I was there I’d lick you clean,” you say.

“I bet you would. Guess you’ll just have to show me next time.”

“Next time.” You agree. 

Changmin walks off screen to wash his hand so you put your shirt and shorts back on. When he comes back, you sit back in your chair at your desk. Changmin notices how flushed your cheeks are. His attention makes you feel hot all over. You both sit in silence. He struggles to think of what to say next and you giggle at how nervous he suddenly seems. 

“Not getting shy on me now are you, Min?” He rolls his eyes at your teasing and you both laugh.

“I guess I’ll see you tomorrow. Not sure if this study session was too helpful…” 

Shaking your head, you chuckle before giving him a wave. “See you.” 

“Good night, Y/n.” Changmin returns your wave.

“Good night.” You both smile at each other before closing out the zoom. 

End.

xx

[waitmyturtles]

Have you read any of the Thai academic papers regarding MAME's work? sometimes I feel like fandom at large has a very strong western bias towards her that borders on xenophobia in review of anything attached to her unless it's more low stakes gmmtv style stuff like wedding plan was which suits western sensibilities more.

Hi, Non! This is interesting framing you've put forth here. I want to note that I'm close with some folks, particularly @bengiyo and @lurkingshan, whose critical tastes I trust, and I can assure myself that they would not call Wedding Plan low stakes. During my Old GMMTV Challenge project, I promised myself that I would not watch another MAME show after Love By Chance and TharnType, and I've taken Ben's and Shan's urging to chuck that aside to add Wedding Plan to my OGMMTVC syllabus, which I'll get to after my summer travels. Let me take a second to sort this all out in a more sensible and chronological answer to touch upon what I know about MAME now that I'm much more read into Thai BLs and the history of the genre.

Regarding academia and MAME, I have not read Thai source material on her start and her legacy in Thai Y novel writing and Thai BL/Series Y television productions. What I am in the midst of reading at the moment is Dr. Thomas Baudinette's Boys Love Media in Thailand (Baudinette hailing from Australia), and he does get in depth with MAME's beginnings, which for me was the first primary source material that I have encountered about her background. To summarize quickly, MAME (along with individuals like INDRYTIMES/Kwang Latika, who wrote the original novel for Love Sick, and others) was part of the first crop of young middle-to-upper-class female college students who became enamored with Japanese BL/yaoi manga, as well as (in many cases) K-pop idols, and began writing fan fiction about and/or in the styles of these interests, which led to the development of the unique Thai Y novel genre.

It does seem to me, at least on Tumblr, that a good chunk of Western fandom here has written off MAME. I'm Asian-American, and I come to my hesitation about MAME from a particularly Asian perspective, so I really can't speak for the non-Asian fans about what they're rejecting. Let me at least explain what I'm rejecting, and how I've engaged in dialogue about it with critical friends here.

LBC did not have as much of what I will attempt to describe as I saw in TharnType, something that I might now call collectivist homophobia or collectivist bias. But LBC had a smattering of it, something that I smelled early on in that series. In both series, MAME seemed to approach her characters, to me, with a distanced hand of judgement that, to me, recalled the kinds of biases that my Asian parents tried to implant in me in my childhood, that I rejected throughout my young years. Queer material is so very often not good to its queer characters, and it seemed to me through LBC and TT that MAME intended to gild that lily to channel a populist homophobia that she seemed to know would resonate with a broader fanbase -- which it did, in part, because TharnType in particular was the first Thai BL with heat in every episode.

(Two things to note about my review of TharnType that I penned last year. First item to note is that Boys Love Media in Thailand had not been published yet, and I had not read primary source material about MAME. I was enraged at the time about fan theories that MAME had been a victim of sexual assault, and had therefore written her queer characters with the biased vitriol that I perceived coming from her because of that theorized past. I still think these theories are equivocating and problematic. Second item is that I heavily recommend reading the reblogs of my TT review, tags and posts and all, to see literally the spectrum of commentary of the MAME fandom/anti-fandom across Tumblr. Writing that post and reading those reblogs was a hell of a great experience.)

Just to summarize this, then -- I choose to not engage with MAME because I see under- and overhanded bias in the work that I've watched, with my Asian eyes; and I just might assume that many Westerners see the same thing. But I don't really know, because I haven't talked to that many Western fans about the depth of this.

So what does this mean for this moment in time? I understand MAME's Love Sea is airing, which I'm not watching, and I missed the boat on Love In the Air -- so I think I'm missing some critical and/or catty chatter about those two shows from the fandom because I don't have context.

But I do know there are folks out there that either write MAME off wholly, likely for similar reasons that I've listed above, and/or hate-watch her shows and post about it. To each their own.

I would not have considered Wedding Plan if Ben and Shan weren't screaming about it. I'm happy to have fewer shows on my plate, I got no time. However.

Nothing in this world exists in a static vacuum. If MAME is experimenting with tone, approach, style, and even taste regarding her shows, then more power to her. @bengiyo's post linked above about Wedding Plan is important for me to see, because I see that he's noting that parts of the fandom may have actually demonstrated real homophobic dialogue about MAME's fictional characters, which, to me, I'm like, what? Really? You got time for that? But also:

If MAME, back in 2019 with TharnType, picked up that her Thai and global fanbases were more inclined to check in with collectivist homophobia, as I'm calling it.... and now, in 2023-2024, has noted that her fanbases might be far more inclined to support real queer equality and overtones in shows, and is including those themes in her work -- can we not welcome that change in? That's why I'll give Wedding Plan a shot.

Let's be sassy and ironic for a second. Could she be making this change for da money and the fame? Sure. But -- capitalism unfortunately rules this world. Car commercials in the States have interracial queer couples parenting children nowadays. If equality talks to money, then content makers will take note. I think I'd be a hypocrite to say that MAME shouldn't make her dollar, all while she's experimenting with more equitable stances.

Last note. There's been quite the dialogue simmering these past few weeks about GMMTV's We Are, and whether or not GMMTV is stepping away from a past where many (not all, but many) of its shows explored queerness in depth. He's Coming To Me, Bad Buddy, Dark Blue Kiss (yes... the first three shows I listed were Aof Noppharnach shows, fuck), Theory of Love, 3 Will Be Free. The major GMMTV BL/GL shows that have aired recently that have made huge waves on social media -- Only Friends, 23.5, Last Twilight, and now My Love Mix-Up -- were/are helmed by branded (capitalism, hello!) pairs, and three out of four of them were flops, with MLMU already treading that territory in EPISODE TWO, for heaven's sake. (Y'all, read the reblogs on this post. Wow.) I finished a rewatch of The Eclipse weeks ago, and I'm dragging my feet on my review, because of what I think that show represents for what branded pairs end up doing to otherwise original content.

I want to posit a theory, that I'll work more on when my OGMMTVC is over, that we have living, real-time proof that the branded pair system is failing good content -- because these shows have to produce engagement snippets of these pairs, instead of more broadly penetrating artistic content. GMMTV's one-off shows with non-branded pairs, like Be My Favorite and Wandee Goodday, are FAR MORE INTERESTING content-wise, varied and inquisitive in their artistic takes on queerness. Even Cherry Magic, featuring the long-awaited return of TayNew, felt fresh, because we literally hadn't seen TayNew in FIVE YEARS. Tay actually KISSED ANOTHER DUDE, shocker!, in 3 Will Be Free. I want to go back to those days, where the pairs could act well outside of their range and their business partners, instead of being limited to the same tone and style that their pairings and their fandoms demand.

I say ALL OF THIS, because isn't it interesting that GMMTV seems to be reverting on a scale of inquisitiveness about queerness -- and MAME seems to be going in the opposite direction?

I would not have expected it. But I have found, lately, some of GMMTV's "takes" on "queerness," as in Only Friends, to be outright offensive. This corporation has become far more gunshy to let their branded pairs just be fictionally gay. If MAME wants to take on a healthier stance of equity, and to play around with more realistic depictions of what it means to be queer in Thailand, then go for it, girl. I will admittedly be watching Wedding Plan with my Asian side-eye and my smell tests for bias, but I look forward to being proven wrong about my suspicions. I want to be a responsible fan here, open to MAME's changes.

This ended up being a lot, but thank you for provoking these thoughts, Non.

[everythingisawayoflife]

MORE Random West Wing Headcanons bc I said so

i’ve gotten back into the show recently (esp bc i understand all the politics and crap) and i feel the need to talk about my favorite dysfunctional political administration

in the first post i made, i said ainsley and sam dated for two years before breaking up. well that breakup didn’t last very long. a month later, they started dating again. from that point, on they never left each others side. they live in georgetown with a rottweiler and four kids.

after being really involved in solving a finance crisis, josh was invited to throw the first pitch at the Mets game. when the camera zoomed in on him, he was visibly emotional.

donna was over at josh’s apartment so much during his recovery period, they’ve begun to have weekly movie nights. they continue this tradition even after marriage and kids.

josh and donna’s house has a wall in the hallway of their house when you first enter that is covered with their kids’ handprints - at first, it was just their oldest being naughty but they let it grow into the Moss-Lyman art exhibit. even sam and ainsley’s kids, and toby and andy’s kids have added their prints to the wall

there’s a weekend every summer where all of senior staff and their families come up to Manchester and stay on the Bartlet Farm at Abbey’s insistence - she wears the title of “Grandma Abbey” proudly

at the inaugural ball (aka s4 josh & donna), josh and donna spend so much time together that a lot of the people there going to congratulate josh on getting bartlet’s second term mistake josh and donna for husband and wife - as a joke, donna and josh let people believe it

^^they end up getting quite the talking to from abbey - because she’s mad they didn’t tell her first (and cj, who has to field press questions the next day and they almost caused a domestic incident)

as an april fools day prank, zoey and charlie covered bartlet’s walls in the oval office with sticky notes - sam helped and wrote a “your mama” joke in latin as payback for bartlet having fun with the staff

josh has a terrible habit of biting the skin around his nails until they bleed - he doesn’t realize how bad it is until he turns some papers into the president with large drops of blood on them - donna keeps spare bandaids at her desk

toby likes to have a little fun with donna and say things to deliberately get a reaction out of her - some are truths, some are lies. one truth is that he likes beans on toast. donna called him clinically insane.

leo really likes musicals. can he sing? hardly ever. but on days he finds he needs to relax, he puts on the original cast recording of oklahoma and everything turns out okay

donna unofficially adopts a sickly kitten that lived in the trash near her apartment - she names it Brownie and nurses it back to health

^^Josh is allergic to Brownie but doesn’t say a word to Donna until after they’ve been married and had kids when they reach the age where they start asking for pets

Donna is sort of a multiple-threat kind of girl - she was an excitable kid so she grew up knowing how to do all kinds of things - these things are tap dance for seven years, karate for two years, horseback riding has been the only constant in her life, she can knit and sew, and she even speaks a little french - josh LOVES it when Donna speaks french

josh is always cold, he’s never run warm. donna knit a blanket for him as a birthday present. he’s never said anything but it’s one his favorite things in the whole world

donna actually likes hearing some of the president’s obscure historical tidbits - she even goes so far as to learning some of her own to exchange with him

toby visits the veteran’s grave that he buried every year and even talks to him a little while he’s there

it took a solid 20 minutes after donna had their first kid to let someone else hold him besides josh. the third person to hold their kid was bartlet.

^^^donna has never seen josh more in love than when he held their kid for the first time. cj took a photo of josh gazing at the little baby swaddled in blue clothing with visible tears streaking down his face. it’s one of donna’s favorite photos.

Sam is really good at hockey. He takes his kids to hockey games whenever he can.

[ode-to-fury]

One Small Freckle

Pairing: Gale/Tav

Words: no clue

Summary: Whoo boy I woke up this morning and this lil drabble basically wrote itself and I like it so much I thought I’d post it. Self indulgent to the max which is my favourite type of fic to write. Gale has some morning after thoughts. This is based on my Tav but idk I think it’s fairly vague.

Gale lay awake, surrounded by Shadow Weave which terrfied and tempted him in equal measure, thinking.

Gods.

Gods.

He’d meant it as a farewell. He’d meant it as- as a last night, a last wonderful night with the woman he had come to love. He’d meant to show her one more facet of his beloved Weave before the inevitable happened, perhaps to give her something to explore in future. In truth, it had been a selfish, shameful thing, and he’d known it would hurt her more than anything else.

I’m in love with you, too.

He’d made his peace with the fact that his life would pay for his follies. It had all made perfect sense to him. Too much sense. He’d endangered the Weave with his ambition, and Mystra had spurned him, and now, to protect that thing which he loved the most and earn his godess’ forgiveness he simply had to destroy himself.

It had made perfect sense, in his heart, in his mind. No doubt Mystra had known it would, clever, clever thing that she was.

And what would it hurt for the world to have one less grasping wizard in it to sully its wonders? Who would miss him?

His mother, perhaps. And Tara. But the two of them would be safe from the destruction he would cause, far away in Waterdeep. And even more safe, when the threat of the Absolute was gone. They would mourn, but heal. In time.

I’m in love with you, too.

Her hands had callouses on them that scraped against his skin when her fingers danced across it. Those callouses scraped against his own, from the years working with his staff, from writing. Such mundane tasks that he yearned for now. She had one small freckle on the palm of her right hand, just below her thumb, that he could have spent hours admiring. Had she always had it? Or was it from days spent in sunlight adventuring through Faerûn, seeing all those places in the flesh he had only ever seen on paper?

Had he ever loved anything so much as he loved her hands? He remembers the first time they’d touched, trapped in that rock. Warmth eminating from her fingers, even then. If he’d known how the touch would damn him, would he have taken that hand?

Yes. In a thousand different realities. In every lifetime he could concieve of, the answer was yes.

I’m in love with you, too.

He’d attempted to match the colours of his nighttime illusion to her eyes, though he thought he’d come up woefully short. In some light, they seemed grey, like thunderclouds, or green, or blue. Then she would grin, or laugh, and starlight would burst forth from them. Days upon days he could have sat finding the perfect words for that light, for the brown specks that floated in it like leaves on the surface of a pool of starlight. He’d tried to count them, but he hadn’t had the time.

Time. Once he’d thought he’d had enough. He’d thought he would have lifetimes, like Elminster. Thousands of years to unravel the universe, it’s secrets, it’s functions. Now… now when all he wanted was to watch as the corner of her mouth quirked upward, and a dimple appeared on her cheek, now he would run out of that which he had taken for granted for so long.

I’m in love with you, too.

And then. Then he’d made the largest error of them all, and forgotten that she was not a goddess, despite his feelings on the matter, and she would not know to guard her thoughts in the astral plane, when they connected.

Pleasure had ripped through him, as Mystra had shown him, in the way he loved, but knowledge also.

He’d seen her thoughts, the hurt he was causing her, but the love also. A love large enough to match his own, at the least. He’d seen her fears, and her dreams, and her loves. Forests she’d walked through and rivers she’d crossed. Her yearning for greatness and reknown and acceptance. Glimpses of firelight and laughter, of tears and loneliness. Such loneliness it had made him gasp with the pain of it.

They’d mingled and loved like the gods do, but the clumsy fumbling of their mortality had interfered, and Gale had lost himself in the essence of her and had had no desire to find his way back to himself. Not ever.

I’m in love with you, too.

He lay awake in the darkness of his tent. She had fallen asleep after, which he understood. The darkness, the fear of the past days, the battles at Moonrise to rescue their allies, and now this. Now he had added to those burdens.

He’d been walking toward a precipice. Toward the abyss of nothing. Away from the pain of his heartbreak. Away from the physical pain of the orb and his arcane hunger. He’d stared into that darkness that had been beckoning since the day the orb had stolen his powers, his goddess, his life. Mystra had given him a chance to find solace in that darkness. To redeem himself in it, and save the Weave as he did. It was right. It had to be right, or she would not have commanded it, no matter her anger toward him.

I’m in love with you, too.

Away from the darkness there was pain. Strife, death, and pain. But there was life. There was Karlach, with her easy smiles and childlike hope and vulgar humour. There was Astarion, with his snide remarks and his hunger for power that matched Gale’s in a way he did not quite like, but who was by his side when he needed it. There was Shadowheart, who was closed off and sullen but who healed his scrapes and bruises with a wink and always shared her wine. There was Wyll, with his bravery and goodness and who would help Gale think of a word to rhyme with “pool” if he asked. Lae’zel, who could barely hide her smile when he asked her about her home amongst the stars and who was stronger than the rest of them combined. Weave save him, it gave him strength too.

And there was Tav.

I’m in love with you, too.

Before Elminster’s appearance he hadn’t thought about Mystra in days. The realisation had terrified and elated him in equal measure. If she had asked this of him two months ago, before the tadpole, he would not have hesitated, not for a moment.

Tav’s lips had brushed over the mark of the orb on his chest, kissing that which he had been cast out and condemned for. Her lips were soft, despite their time exposed to the elements. He wanted to ask her how she managed it. He wanted to ask her so many things that he did not have time for now.

I’m in love with you, too.

And in the darkness of his tent, surrounded by the Shadow Weave which tempted and terrified him in equal measure he finally realised that something in his heart and mind had changed.

He did not want to die.

The thought terrified him worse than anything else he’d experienced in the past weeks, and there had been some truly bloodcurdling sights.

Somewhere along their journey, perhaps next to the fire when Wyll was telling stories, or fighting with Tav at his back, knowing what she would do even before she did it, or walking along sharing thoughts with Astarion and Lae’zel, somewhere along their journey he had started living again.

Despite the orb, despite the tadpole, despite their dire, almost inevitable odds of catastrophic failure, he had started living again.

And gods, was he enjoying it.

I’m in love with you, too.

The night before he had bonded with her in a way he had not bonded with anyone in his life, not even Mystra, for she had always kept herself apart from him. Tav had had no such boundaries, and he had kept none from her.

Perhaps they would all die before this was over even without him detonating the orb. Perhaps they would transform into illithids and lose their souls. Perhaps this Absolute would crush them without so much as a second thought.

Or perhaps they would triumph, slim as their chances might be.

I’m in love with you, too.

But he would face it at her side. If they found this Heart of the Absolute and they decided it was best he go forth with his plan, then gladly he would. But until then, if she asked him to live he would live. If she asked him to defy Mystra, he would. If there was even the smallest chance that he would one day have the time to write poetry about that small freckle beneath her thumb, he would defy Ao himself to have it. He didn’t want to die. He wanted to live. He wanted to live with her, with their friends beside them.

And in the darkness of his tent, surrounded by the Shadow Weave which tempted and terrified him in equal measure, he grinned, and decided he would attempt to get some sleep before what would surely be a grueling day. Perhaps his last. Perhaps.

But certainty was ever an elusive creature when it came to adventures such as theirs. Hadn’t he been telling Tav so ever since Elminster had appeared?

He closed his eyes.

I’m in love with you, too.

[astermath]

the harrington way･ﾟ☆

pairing: steve harrington x fem!reader

summary: steve won’t stop distracting you from studying for your midterms. to soothe your frustrations he uses his own, supposedly more effective way of quizzing you.

word count: 3.1K

tags: kinda mean!steve, reader is in college, established relationship, oral (f receiving), a bit of a breeding kink lol, reader is a bit of a brat, unprotected sex (wrap it before u tap it guys) minors dni!

notes: inspired by this ask that @stevenose wrote out for me, tysm for the inspo <3 i'm a history major so I sprinkled some history trivia in there lol

please let me know what you think!

Midterms had been positively kicking your ass. You’d been working harder than the devil, spending half your time awake in the library or at your desk, stressed out of your mind. And your boyfriend was well aware of this too.

He’d tried countless times to coax you out of your room for a date, even just to go get dinner, but to no avail. You felt bad, of course, you didn’t want your relationship to suffer under the circumstances of your education. But college is a privilege, your parents both worked very hard to help you achieve your dreams, and you weren’t about to let them down.

So, you’d compromised. You let him stay in your room while you went over your last chapters for premodern history. It was supposed to only be an hour before you’d finish up and the two of you could watch a movie, but the words weren’t sticking in your mind whatsoever. Maybe you’d overworked yourself, your stress levels way beyond anything anyone could consider healthy, but you were determined to keep trying.

You groan, flipping your glasses up to rest on your head while you rub your face. The sound made Steve rise from your bed to his feet, popping up behind you.

“You ‘kay sweetie?” His large hands settle onto your shoulders, concern only growing when he feels how tense they are.

“No,” you lean your head back, and you could see his brows furrow worriedly at the sight of your eye bags, “I’m going to explode if I have to read about another another dynasty…”

“Well, don’t,” he leans down to press a soft kiss to your lips, “I prefer to have you in one piece.”

“And I love you Stevie,” you lean back forward, hunched over the dozens of papers on your desk, “but I prefer to pass this course. I seriously cannot retake this.”

He sighs, hands gripping a little tighter at the taut muscles of your shoulders. It was like you were an elastic band, stretched so thin you could snap any moment. You were grumpy, and it wasn’t your fault, he knew that, but he missed spending time with you. He’s not used to spending this much time apart, even if it for the sake of your studies.

“Come on,” his thumbs press into your shoulder blades, “let me help you out a little, at least.” He starts making circular motions, and you bite your lip to suppress a groan at the contact. “Let Steve’s magical hands to their thing.”

You could just hear the smirk in his tone, but there was no possible way you could be relaxing when you hadn’t even properly revised yet. “Steve, I—“ you interrupt yourself with an accidental whine from his impromptu massage. “I can’t relax right now, I haven’t even used my flash cards yet.”

His eyes flit to the pastel cards placed on your nightstand. Clearly you’d been revising a lot before bed, which wasn’t exactly helping your sleeping schedule either.

“I can help with those.”

“You?” You lean your head back again, expecting a joking grin, but instead being met with a genuine smile. Steve wasn’t exactly what one would call an academic weapon, but you’d be rude not to let him try and help at least. “Hmm… Fine, I don‘t see why not."

He gently brings you up off your desk chair, unable to keep his hands off you now that he's started. His strong arms wrap around your waist, and he senses your hesitation at first. "If I'm gonna quiz you, ya gotta loosen up a little honey," he leans his head down slightly, "plus, I'm gonna quiz you my way."

"Your way huh?" You decide to take his bait. Though he isn’t in college like you, and he never really scored too well in high school, you were intrigued nonetheless. And you weren’t immune to your boyfriend, after all. You were bound to cave to his advances eventually.

"Yeah," his lips ghost over yours, "the Harrington way."

"Alright," you grin, "color me intrigued."

He takes that as his cue to close the distance between you two and press his lips to yours. Usually he'd start off slow, ease you into it, but truth be told, Steve had been deprived of your affection for long enough. The kiss is a lot more passionate than usual, teeth clashing slightly as his tongue slips into your mouth, eliciting a soft whimper from you.

You stumble backwards onto the bed with him on top of you, albeit less by accident and more as an advance. His hips settle between your thighs, and you could feel the reason for his urgency pressing against your heat. Even through a layer of underwear and tight jeans, the shape of him was so clear to you.

"Steeeeve..." You whine, transitioning into a giggle as you drag out his name. His lips move to your neck, pressing sloppy, wet kisses to your sensitive skin. "This all-- fuck-- part of your technique?"

You could feel him smile into the crook of your neck, hands slipping under your shirt, nudging it up.

"Yep, just let me do my thing baby... All part of the plan..."

At this point it was nearly impossible to deny Steve anything. Not just because you felt bad for your distance as of lately, but because your mind tended to go blank with his hands on you like this. You'd already succumbed to his touch, too late to turn back to your desk now.

Your shirt was discarded onto the carpeted floor, his own following soon after. He works on unhooking your bra while leaving feverish kisses all over your chest, nipping every now and then. His breath hitches when it’s discarded, and he’s met with the sight of your bare breasts. It didn't matter how many times he'd seen your tits, he'd never get tired of it. Ever.

He wastes no time in latching onto your nipple, rolling the other one between his fingers. His tongue kitten licked over the sensitive bud, hazel eyes peering up at your expression, which was growing increasingly desperate.

His lips drag over your skin, leaving tingles in their wake as he moved over your stomach. He halts when he reaches the waistband of your shorts, eyes flicking up at you for a moment before he started scattering teasing kisses right above the hem.

"Stevie..." You sigh his nickname, propping yourself up onto your elbows so you could watch him. You knew he was teasing you, lips remaining so close yet so distant from where you needed them to be.

"Impatient?" He questions, hands coming up to settle on your hips, thumbs skirting just over the edge of your bottoms.

"Look who's talking..." You scoff, the cockiness in your voice disappearing as soon as he traces his fingers over your clothed pussy. "O-Okay, jesus, quit... Quit teasing baby--"

He refrains from rolling his eyes at your attitude, knowing you were quite pent up yourself. You'd usually never go this long without fucking, so he understood the sexual frustration. Luckily, that was his exact field of expertise.

He hooks his fingers around your shorts, and you take his hint to lift your hips to help him pull them off, along with your panties, joining the rest of your clothes scattered on the floor. He smiles at the sight of your slick coating your folds so beautifully, proof of just how worked up he'd gotten you by just kissing you and touching you a little.

"Fuck, you're soaked baby," he leans down onto the bed, arms hooking around your thighs and pulling your heat closer to his face. He runs a teasing finger up and down your slit, coating it in your juices. "Jesus, she's just begging for me, isn't she?"

Your hips buck at his dirty words, whining softly. You’re so close to just grabbing his hair and grinding against his face, but you know the payoff to his teasing would be worth it in the end.

He leans down and licks up your cunt, stilling at your clit, flicking his tongue over it a few times. His brown eyes peer up at you, watching you lose your composure over just the faintest of touches. He adores watching you become undone for him like this, melt underneath his touch, loosen yourself up a little.

He continues working on your needy clit, groans sending vibrations through your core that make you grip the sheets beneath you. If your mind wasn't so hazed with what he was doing to you, you might have noticed the hand coming down to his pants, palming himself. He tended to get off on your arousal like that, your moans and whines only spurring him on further.

"Sh-Shit-- Stevie!" You cry out his name, fingers gripping his chocolate locks when his lips closed around the sensitive bundle of nerves. You weren't going to last much longer, and he could tell with the way you were bucking your hips into him.

He wanted to ask you if you were close, in that teasing, cocky voice he knew you secretly loved, but he’d rather die than tear his lips away from your cunt at that moment. So he just kept going, tongue lapping away at your sweet juices, eyes fluttering shut as he loses himself to the sound of your moans.

The coil in your lower stomach snaps, and you moan his name loudly as your orgasm crashes through your body. Your fingers pull at his locks, earning a groan from him as your vision goes white with pleasure. You continue to ride out your orgasm against his face, whimpers falling from your lips with every roll of your hips.

Steve, a bit reluctantly, pulls away from your core, catching his breath. He looks so beautiful, lips swollen and pink, lower face just covered in your slick, hair all messy from your the firm grip you had on it.

He wipes his mouth clean with the back of his hand, grinning at your fucked out expression. “You ‘kay honey?”

You nod, a sweet, dazed smile adorning your face in response. “Yeah… Not quite done with you yet though.”

He smirks, sitting up to undo his belt, eyes not leaving yours for even a second. “Good,” he continues to pull off his jeans and boxers, “because that was only the first step of the Harrington way.”

You roll your eyes, almost having forgotten about the fact that he was supposed to be quizzing you. “You serious?”

He replies by leaning down and pressing a soft kiss to your lips. “Do I look like I want my girl to be failing college?”

You nibble on your bottom lip, shaking your head slowly. You can feel his cock rub against your thigh, and the contact alone is sending tingles of pleasure through your body.

“Good.” He wraps his arms around your waist, almost manhandling you on top of him. You squeal from the sudden change of positions, giggling from the spontaneity of it all.

You’re already reaching down for his cock, ready to line yourself up with him and slide down so painstakingly slow like you usually would. But he grabs your wrist before you get a chance to, and the expression on his face is a lot more stern than the one you saw just moments ago.

“I’m serious about this, so you gotta be too, okay?”

“Yeah, I am, god, just— I need you inside me Steve, like right now.”

“I know sweetie, and you can, if…” He reaches for the flash cards on your desk, picking out a random one and reading over the question. “You can tell me who was widely credited with publishing the first ever printed Bible.”

You whine out of frustration, trying to think back at all of the subject matter you’d crammed into your head the past few weeks. “Shit, baby, you’re kinda putting me on the spot here…”

“C’mon,” his hand reaches down to grab his cock, running the head over your folds and gathering your slick onto him, “think sweetie, you got this.”

You bite your lip, resisting the temptation to force your hips down onto him. You peer down at him, his eyes meeting yours in an expectant gaze. “I-I, uhm… Gutenberg, it was— it was Gutenberg.”

“Good girl,” he coos, and finally pushes up his hips to slide inside you.

“Fuck!” You moan out, louder than usual. You suddenly realize your dormmates are in for quite the treat that night.

You try to move your hips, but his right hand on your hip stops you from doing so. Even with you on top of him, he’s still in full control of you, it was honestly pretty impressive.

He fucks into you at a slow, lazy pace, feet planted flatly onto the mattress to ground himself. His cock drags deliciously over your walls, and you can feel every curve and ridge of him inside you like this.

You whimper when he stills his hips, already opening your mouth to protest before he interrupts you by holding up a finger and taking out another flash card. “I’ll continue if you can tell me when Queen Elizabeth I reigned.”

“W-What… I don’t— I don‘t know, uhm…” You’d never taken the expression “fucked stupid” seriously, up until that point. He was being so mean, so teasing, and you'd be lying if you said you weren't loving it. Maybe this was his payback for being away from him for this long.

"Don't tell me I've already fucked the answers outta you," he smirks, and it makes you whine, clenching down onto his cock. You liked this side of him, so mean, even if you knew he was just going to shower you with kisses and praise after.

"N-No, I--" you furrowed your brows, "uhm... 1558... t-to..." you could feel his cock twitch inside you, and it almost makes you lose your train of thought, "1603, I think-- fuck!"

He wastes no time in driving himself deeper inside you, your treat for answering correctly.

"So smart, look at you-- shit-- my little academic..." He coos, hand coming down so his thumb could play with your clit. You begin moving your hips to meet his halfway, the obscene, almost pornographic sounds of skin slapping skin filling the room.

You almost didn't notice that he'd grabbed another card, too busy chasing your orgasm now that he was finally giving you something more to work with.

"When did Luther post the 95 Theses--"

"1517!" you cry out, hands coming down to rest over his hairy chest, supporting yourself as you worked your hips over his throbbing cock.

He looks up at you, trying to keep his own composure, but it's getting harder by the second. You look so beautiful, tits bouncing, lips parted as his name falls from them after every other whimper and moan. He's doing his best to keep up his strict tutor persona, but he feels his own orgasm creeping closer by the second, not being able to stop his hips from rutting into you.

"A-Alright--" He almost drops the stack of cards on the floor, trying to grab a random one as he reads it aloud, "Which scientist-- fuck-- f-formulated the laws of... of planetary motion-- holy shit baby--" his brown eyes find yours again, unable to hold back the continuous groans and whimpers you're earning from him.

You feel that familiar heat building up in your stomach, your thighs burning from making you bounce over his cock the entire time, but you ignore the strain it has on your body. All you want to do now is cum, feel him fill you up to the brim until it's leaking out of you.

He can tell you're not even thinking about the answer, so, although a bit reluctantly, he starts to slow down. You open your eyes, looking down at him with a pleading gaze. You're about to start sobbing, tears already watering up your vision as you bite your lip. "I-I-- Uhm, fuck, Stevie, I--"

"Come on," He taps your ass lightly to encourage you, "that pretty mind's gotta be good for somethin', think, baby."

A stray tear rolls over your cheek, thoughts of everything you'd been studying running rampant. Your eyes widen, and in a sort of eureka moment, you yell out a name. "Kepler! I-It was Kepler!"

"That's my girl," he groans out, throwing the card besides him and reaching out to fully envelop you in his arms. He starts to piston himself into you at a pace your hips couldn't possibly keep up with, instead holding onto him as tight as you could, moaning his name over and over into the crook of his neck.

"'M gonna cum," you manage to mumble between your pleas, thighs starting to tremble.

"Me too baby, gonna fill you up so good-- shit-- gonna give you your reward-- fuuuck!" He groans loudly, pulling you flush to his chest as he paints your walls in his sticky warm cum.

You follow right after, clenching down on him and milking his cock for every last drop, your body going limp against his from pure exhaustion. Your orgasm ripples through you, the aftermath rendering you completely fucked out, but blessed with the euphoria of your release.

The two of you continue to lay there for a bit longer, catching your breath and enjoying the warmth of each other's bodies. Eventually, Steve pulls out, and you sigh at the emptiness without him inside you. You feel some of his cum dripping onto your thigh, making a mental note to ask for a shower together later. In a moment, at least. When you'd regained your ability to walk.

You pull away from his neck to look at your boyfriend, who seems to be pretty satisfied with himself. "You did so well sweetie," he leans up to press a gentle kiss on your lips, "you're totally gonna ace that exam."

You'd almost forgotten you had an exam the day after, but surprisingly enough, you weren't that stressed. If you could come up with the answers while he was pounding into you, you could write them down in a lecture hall no problem.

"I'm pretty fond of studying the Harrington way, actually," you smile, reaching out to brush some stray brown locks away from his face.

"Really? Huh," he doesn't mention the fact that he didn't even look at the answer the last time. He was way too eager to make you cum, and besides, you're a smart girl. You're going to ace that exam either way. "Well, if you want," he glances at the clock on your nightstand, "I think we have time for another round of revising."

"Hm..." You pretend to mull it over, "in the shower?"

"In the shower."

let me know if you'd like to be added to the tag list for further steve harrington related content!

comments and reblogs are highly appreciated!

[love-kurdt]

I Don’t Know How to Be Something You Miss (byler)

Will comes home crying on the night of August 16th, 1989. His dad, Jim Hopper, clocks him immediately. They have a heart-to-heart.

Title and story based off "Last Kiss" by Taylor Swift <3

word count: 2,084

ficlet ao3 link

“Hey, kid. How was Mike’s?” Hopper asked as Will shuffled through the front door, his face tense and eyes red-rimmed.

“It was fine,” Will mumbled, dropping his bag by the stairs.

“You eat dinner there? Or do you want me to heat something up for you?”

Will shook his head. “No, I was gonna eat here, but I’ll do it myself. Thanks, though.”

Hopper didn’t respond right away, just studied him with those sharp, observant eyes. Will hated how easily Hopper could see through him. “You sure you’re okay?”

“Yeah, I’m fine,” Will replied curtly, heading toward the kitchen.

“Then why do you sound like you’ve been crying?”

Will froze mid-step, his shoulders stiffening. He turned to face Hopper, his voice rising. “I said I’m fine, Jim! Jesus! Just leave me alone!”

Hopper blinked, clearly taken aback, but Will didn’t wait for a response. He stormed up the stairs, slamming his bedroom door behind him. Once inside, he threw himself onto his bed, burying his face in his pillow. The remorse hit him almost immediately, a dull ache in his chest. He hated snapping at Hopper, and the way the word “Jim” had come out felt like a slap in the face— not just to Hopper, but to himself. He’d worked so hard to build this relationship with Hopper, and moments like this felt like he was tearing it apart, brick by brick. He always tried his best to rise above, but… he was so angry at Mike, and had taken it out on Hop. He didn’t deserve that.

The memory of Mike’s kiss played on repeat in his head, colliding with the image of those letters— so many words Mike had never shared with him. It made his stomach twist.

After a few minutes of stewing in guilt-riddled silence, Will sat up with a groan. He couldn’t just leave things like this. Pulling himself together, he headed back downstairs. The kitchen lights were still on, and Hopper was sitting at the table, a beer in one hand and a Better Homes and Gardens magazine in the other. The scene was so normal, so Hopper. He glanced up as Will walked in but didn’t say anything, waiting for him to speak.

Will shuffled to the fridge, pulling out a container of leftover chicken piccata. He heated it in the microwave and sat down across from Hopper, avoiding eye contact as he fiddled with his fork.

“I’m sorry,” Will said eventually, his voice low. “For, um… everything. You didn’t deserve me snapping at you. And… you’re my dad, so I’m sorry for calling you… you know. Jim.”

Hopper’s face softened, and he set the magazine down. “Thanks, kid. I appreciate that. I know something’s bothering you, though, so I’ll let it slide… this time.”

Will managed a small laugh, his grip on the fork loosening. Hopper leaned forward, resting his arms on the table.

“What happened?” he asked gently.

Will hesitated, the words stuck in his throat. Hopper’s patience was a steady pressure, silently coaxing him to talk. Finally, he sighed and pulled his bag onto the table, fishing out a pile of papers held together by a large paper clip in the middle.

“These,” he said, dropping them onto the table with a thud. “Mike wrote them. Twenty-six of them.”

Hopper raised an eyebrow, picking up the stack. “Twenty-six, huh? That’s some effort. What do they say?”

Will gestured vaguely. “Read one.”

Hopper removed the paper clip and straightened the first letter in his hand, his eyes scanning the page. His brow furrowed as he read aloud: “‘Dear Will, I’m so in love with you.’” He let out a low whistle. “Wow. That’s a start.”

“Dad—” Will groaned, burying his face in his hands.

“Hold on, hold on,” Hopper said, grinning as he kept reading. “‘I wanted to kiss you. I really, really wanted to kiss you, Will. And I want you to hold me in your arms forever, because it’s the only place I can truly call home.’” He looked up. “Kid, this is a love letter. A real one.”

“I know,” Will muttered, his voice muffled by his hands. “That’s why I hate him for it.”

Hopper leaned back, giving Will a bemused look. “You hate him? For what? Loving you? I thought that was what we were rooting for!”

“No! I mean—” Will let out a frustrated sigh. “Because he didn’t tell me! He just… wrote all of these and never said anything! And now I’m supposed to just… what? Be okay with it?”

Hopper studied him for a moment before setting the letter down. “You’re overthinking this, kid.”

“I’m not overthinking,” Will snapped. “This is serious!”

Hopper raised an eyebrow but said nothing, waiting. It was a strategy that always worked on Will, and tonight was no different.

“I can’t do anything now because he already kissed me,” Will blurted, his voice barely above a whisper. He stared at the plate in front of him, unable to meet Hopper’s eyes. “After I found the letters.”

Hopper’s eyebrows lifted. “He kissed you, huh? And what did you do?”

Will swallowed hard. “I ran.”

Hopper blinked, leaning forward. “You ran? After he kissed you?”

“Yeah,” Will said, the word sharp and defensive. “Because… because I don’t believe him, okay?”

Hopper frowned. “Don’t believe what? That he likes you? Kid, the guy wrote you twenty-six love letters. You think he’s just messing with you?”

Will pushed his plate away, his appetite gone. “I don’t know what to think. He kept those letters from me. For years, Dad. If he really felt that way, why didn’t he tell me? Why now?”

Hopper scratched his beard, considering. “Maybe because he was scared. Or maybe he didn’t know how to tell you. Hell, Will, sometimes it’s easier to write things down than to say them out loud.”

Will snorted, shaking his head. “It just doesn’t make sense. If he cared about me so much, why hide it?”

“Maybe for the same reason you’re sitting here doubting him instead of talking to him about it,” Hopper said, his tone gentle but firm. “Fear. People do stupid things when they’re scared, kid. Doesn’t mean they don’t care.”

“It’s not the same.”

Hopper gave him a pointed look. “Isn’t it? You ran because you didn’t know what to do. Maybe he didn’t, either.” Will didn’t respond, his fingers fidgeting with the edge of his sleeve.

Hopper sighed, leaning forward to rest his elbows on the table. “Look, I’m not saying you have to believe him right away. But you owe it to yourself— and to him— to figure this out. Running’s not gonna help anyone.”

Will looked up at him, his expression conflicted. “What if I’m wrong? What if he doesn’t mean it? What if—”

“Will,” Hopper interrupted, his voice steady. “What if he does? What if this is real, and you’re too busy doubting it to give it a chance?”

The weight of Hopper’s words settled over him, sinking into the cracks of his doubt. “I don’t know if I can,” he admitted quietly.

Hopper was quiet for a moment before speaking. “You know,” he said, his voice softer, “after Sarah died, I started writing her letters.”

Will’s head snapped up, his eyes widening. Hopper rarely talked about his daughter.

“I didn’t know how else to deal with it,” Hopper continued. “I’d sit down at the table and just… write to her. About my day, about how much I missed her, about all the things I wished I’d said when I still had the chance.” He paused, his gaze distant. “It helped. A lot. More than I expected it to.”

Will swallowed hard, his throat tightening at the thought of Hopper, alone, pouring his heart out onto paper.

“Maybe you should try it,” Hopper said, his eyes meeting Will’s. “Write Mike a letter. Or twenty-six, if that’s what it takes. Get it all out— everything you’re feeling. You don’t even have to give it to him. Just… write it down.”

Will stared at him, the suggestion settling into his mind. “You think it’ll help?”

“It did for me,” Hopper said simply. “And hey, worst-case scenario, you’ve got some practice if you ever decide to write him back for real.”

Will let out a small laugh, shaking his head. “You’re full of advice tonight.”

“Just trying to help,” Hopper said, reaching across the table to squeeze Will’s shoulder. “You’ve got this, kid.”

Will glanced down at the letters again, then back up at Hopper. For the first time all evening, he felt the weight in his chest lighten. “Thanks, Dad,” he said quietly.

Hopper smiled, his hand still firm on Will’s shoulder. “Anytime.”

Will finished his meal in silence, the letters sitting between them on the table, no longer just a source of frustration but a bridge to something bigger. Something he wasn’t quite ready for— but something he knew he couldn’t ignore.

The next evening, Will sat at his desk, staring at the blank sketchbook in front of him. The desk lamp cast a warm glow over the surface, but it did little to calm the knot twisting in his stomach. He twirled the pen in his fingers, debating whether this was a good idea at all.

“This is stupid,” he muttered under his breath, his eyes darting to the pile of letters from Mike sitting at the corner of the desk. He hadn’t touched them since last night, afraid they’d say something new if he opened them again— something even more overwhelming than before.

Will sighed, pressing the pen to the paper, and began to write.

August 17th, 1989 Dear Mike, I can’t believe I’m actually doing this. This is so stupid. It’s not like you’ll read these, anyway… and it’s my fault that you won’t.

Will paused, chewing on the cap of the pen. It felt easier to pour his thoughts onto the page when he pretended Mike would never see it. He tapped the pen against the desk, staring at the words he’d written. Should he be this honest? Did it even matter? He continued.

I ran away last night after you kissed me, and I’m pretty sure I already regret it. You came into the store earlier looking for me, and… I hid, like the coward I am and have always been. I didn’t want to face the fact that I hurt you.

He set the pen down for a moment, his hand trembling. Writing it out made it all feel so real— the kiss, the way he’d bolted, the look on Mike’s face when he left. Will swallowed hard, trying to shake the memory before it overwhelmed him.

He picked up the pen again.

It’s just that when you kissed me, I was still so overwhelmed with anger towards you for keeping these letters from me. For keeping the truth from me. If you had just been honest with me about your feelings, things could have been different. But I can’t do anything now. I left, and I won’t blame you if you never want to talk to me again.

Will paused again, rereading the last few sentences. He rubbed the back of his neck, feeling heat creep up his face. “Too much?” he muttered, but he didn’t cross it out. He needed to say it, even if Mike would never see the words.

Hopper suggested this, actually. Writing letters. He said he used to write them to his daughter, and that it really helped. I’ll admit, it’s a cool alternative to journaling. Feels less formal. I get why you did it.

The corners of Will’s lips twitched upward for a brief moment, a flicker of understanding crossing his mind. Writing like this felt… easier. Safer. He tapped the pen against the desk again, thinking of how to finish the letter.

So, um… yeah. I don’t know how to end this. You’re the writer, not me. I’m just… yeah. I’m sorry for everything. Love, Will

Will leaned back in his chair, staring at the letter. The words blurred slightly as his eyes misted over, and he blinked quickly to clear them. It wasn’t perfect, but it was honest. That was all he could manage for now. He closed the sketchbook carefully, making sure not to smudge the fresh ink, and set it aside. For the first time since leaving Mike’s, he felt like he could breathe just a little bit easier. He knew he’d never question Hopper’s wisdom again, that was for sure.

[aritsukemo]

A Mid-Night Snack | Kunikuzushi

Music Artist Kunikuzushi x Idol Reader

Warnings: Major Character Death ( Kunikuzushi ), suicide, depression and bpd are implied, drugs are referenced and used ( Kunikuzushi takes antidepressants and ends up overdosing on them ), severe hallucinating ahead ( Everything that happens in this fic does not actually happen ), Scaramouche is used a stage name, Kunikuzushi as his real name, modern au ahead, also nasty topics such as vomit and blood are used as descriptors towards the end. With all that said, please enjoy this at your own volition and risk!

A/N: It's officially January 3rd where I live so Happy Belated New Years and Happy Birthday to my gloriously written shnookums Wanderer! To celebrate his birthday, I've decided to do a part two to my former-drabble-now-fanfic 'A Boring Experiment'! I'm seeming to have a pattern in trying new things with him so like my other Kunikuzushi fanfic, this is completely new ground for me. That said, I hope you can still enjoy. ( Also this is a gift for the one who enjoyed my little drabble i wrote on a whim and requested a part two of it! )

Part One: A Boring Experiment | Part Two: A Mid-Night Snack

Tagging: @nursedflowers / @kazusys

Beep. Beep. Beep.

 "Lately, a new all boys group going by the name of 5WIRL seems to be on the rise to stardom! In only two weeks their debut album, 'Alone With The Wind', has already charted as number five in The Billboard Global 200; an astonishing feat that has only ever been accomplished by the solo artist Scaramouche!"

 "Speaking of him, a new shocking piece of evidence has urged police to reopen the case regarding the sudden and tragic death of world-famous idol Y/n L/n. It has officially been revealed that L/n had a high dosage of prescription drugs in their system by the time of their death which have made police believe drove them to jumping."

"Furthermore, it's now being suspected that their death was not actually a suicide but instead a cruel setup. By who, you may wonder? Well, it's obviously none other than the love of their life Scaramouche himself! More about our thoughts after this commercial break—!"

With the click of a button the radio fell silent, allowing the quiet that once trespassed into the bedroom to seep back in. A groan of the one who was disturbed is as brief as their stretches as they sit up, their purple hair flopping in disarray around the sides of their face as they check the clock. It reads 3:12am.

It felt odd to wake up at such an hour seeming as it’s usually the time he's falling asleep. It pulls another groan out of him, but this one was wrapped in frustration rather than drowsiness. It was always a challenge to get to sleep in the first place let alone get back to sleep, especially after—

A growl rumbles through his core, interrupting his thoughts. Its origins are the center of his stomach; a consequence of deciding to lay around in bed instead of making dinner last night.

He decides his next move rather quickly; he might as well get a snack.

Beep. Beep. Beep.

He's in the kitchen in another five minutes and snacking on some instant ramen in the next. He doesn't bother going back to his room, finding himself too famished to do anything except stuff his face—which he inevitably does.

His elbow brushes against the counter that he leans on as he raises the cup in his hand, lifting a large portion of noodles up with his wooden chopsticks in tandem, before immediately bringing it to his mouth and relishing in its bland taste.

 "Hmg...Kuni', is that you? Why are you up?"

Beep. Beep. Beep.

He turns at the sound of the familiar voice—the sweet symphony of his beloved’s wrapped in the raspiness of sleepiness—and, upon turning, is greeted with the sight of your drooping eyes boring into his own.

 "Got hungry," He simply mumbled, his tongue feeling like a paper weight in his mouth. He tried his best to ignore the feeling.

You slowly walked up to him, your feet thudding against the floor as if being dragged down by an anchor. You reach him after ages, and when you do, he lifts his arms up and allows you the space to dip under them and slug your arms around his waist. As if your head weighed one thousand pounds, it immediately flops forward and collides with the soft fabric of his sweatshirt. Kunikuzushi immediately cages you, and after that, resumes his eating.

 “Don’t get food on me,” You warn, though you’re too tired to convey your words in a properly threatening way. Even if it did, his reaction would’ve been the same; rolling his eyes heavenwards.

 “Don’t insult me. Unlike you, my food actually goes into my mouth.”

The room fills with silence again after that...not really. Periodically, a series of slurps fill your ears; a product of your boyfriend being too eager to stuff his face which ultimately results in him having to suck up a long trail of ramen in one go. You don’t mind the sound though. In fact, you actually find the obnoxious noise pleasant and you’re sure that if it continued, it’d be able to serenade you back to sleep..

Then again, you’re so tired right now that a blow horn would probably have the same effect on you. The only thing you can imagine having the opposite effect on you right now would be—

A loud gurgle cuts through all other micro-noises in the room, its animalistic growl devouring any other sound and swallowing it whole so that when it fades there’s complete silence. A heartbeat of time passes before you finally open your eyes again, peering up at your boyfriend with a kitten-like gaze when you do. He exhales in an exasperated manner yet his arms lift regardless. You take the opportunity to slip from him, your grip loosening around his body until it fades altogether, allowing him to walk past you.

Beep. Beep. Beep.

You were in the dining room now—if you could even call it that. Really it was just a cheap, foldable table the two of you shoved in the corner of the open kitchen along with some chairs.

You sat across from each other. Kunikuzushi—long finished with his cup of noodles—staring absentmindedly as you demolish the freshly-microwaved ramen cup with vigor. He watches in silence. His eyes follow the journey of your utensil as it twists and wraps the yellow strands around it until it’s sturdy enough to lift into the air before traveling slowly upwards. He catches every little twitch of eagerness your lips make before they finally open and allows the delicious, soft food into your mouth at last where he hears a loud crunch!

Beep. Beep. Beep.

He blinks, the sharp noise forcing him from his daze and back to reality. His face then tightens, scrunching up from perplexment and overall discomfort at what he had just heard. You catch his expression by chance and noticing it has you looking up, your own look of confusion painted on your face.

 “What’s wrong?” You question, still chewing on the huge bite. He doesn’t answer you and simply stares at you with a narrowed gaze. It earns a scowl from you and another loud call of his name, “Kuni’!”

 “I can hear you,” He quickly snaps, “No need to yell.”

You can feel the end of your brows twitch, agitated by his tone and overall comment. Kunikuzushi notices, but doesn’t speak on it and instead listens to your soft munching until it eventually ceases.

 “If you heard me then you should’ve answered,” You grumbled, already preparing your next bite by forcing your utensil to twirl once again, “And you get an attitude when you were the one giving me strange looks.”

 “..Anyways..nightmares aren’t usually a common occurrence with you unless..” You find yourself hesitating to ask your question and decide to calm your nerves with another bite of food.

You bring your utensil up to your lips again, this bite is bigger than the last and you can see the thick, white steam admitting from each yellow strand. It singes the delicate skin of your lips when it gets near and you have no choice but to take the time to gently blow the steam away. It’s in that little time that you finally work up the courage to continue.

 “..Have you taken your meds?” You whisper the question into the darkness, your eyes glued to your noodles, too scared to watch his reaction take shape—to see his lips dip into a frown and his eyes darken with annoyance.

 “Yes, I took ‘em before I went to bed,” He grumbled. The lack of vexation in his voice coerces you to glance up at him. He simply looked exhausted, nothing more. It was a sight that was as surprising as it was relieving. You found yourself staring for longer than you probably should’ve. Kunikuzushi’s eyes quirk up and he catches your gaze, frowning when he does so. It’s only then that you realize how unconvinced you likely looked in that moment.

Alas, it was too late to fix your face because the damage had already been done. The love of your life was already looking away and flicking his hand, saying,  “You can go check if you want. I’m sure you know the exact number of pills I had in there.” 

His comment was deep with scorn and though his eyebags and lazy tone hid it well, you could tell you had hurt him to some degree. It made your heart sting, made your frown grow three times bigger, but you stood to your feet regardless. You might as well.

A moment of silence passes as you make your way to the kitchen, passing the table and ultimately him as you slowly make your way over to the specific cabinet near the fridge where the two of you kept all your bottled remedies. You reach for the handle and quickly realize that you had accidentally brought your noodle cup with you, seemingly too hungry to part with it. It makes you pause only for a moment, though, and ultimately, you switch hands, grab the handle, and swing the cabinet door open.

Medications of all kinds sit in the same place you had left them it seems, there varying lengths and thrown around locations making the small space seem like a mini junkyard. You scan each bottle, briskly reading the description of those whose initial appearance matched the particular bottle you were looking for only to quickly move on upon reading the first couple letters. You do that for some time, reading bottles, moving bottles, and even restarting the process once or twice…but it seems what you were looking for was nowhere to be found. It had completely disappeared. 

 “Kuni’,” You called. Having long set your cup of noodles aside and are now gripping both cabinet doors, which are both now wide open, by their knob handles. You hear his raspy hum—his sign of acknowledgement—and it’s then you finally say, “Where are the pills?”

Beep. Beep. Beep.

 “Should be on the second shelf,” He replied, “Well they aren’t,” You retorted.

 “Look again,” He tells you, “I’ve looked through the cabinet, like, three times already; they’re not in here,” You told him. 

Beep. Beep. Beep. Beep!

 “I put the bottle back in the cabinet after I took one, it should be in there,” You heard him say. You could tell he was agitated. It was especially clear in his next words, “Do you think I’m lying?”

Beep! Beep! Beep! Beep!

 “No,” You tried to say as sincerely as possible despite raising your voice. Though past experiences have made you doubtful, you do vaguely remember him convincing him to take them the other night and him getting up to go and take them.

Did he hide them then? The thought sits at the back of your mind, but you try to ignore it. Unfortunately, your subconscious suspicion must be blatant in your voice—more so than your heartfelt sincerity—because the next time he spoke, it was with the same irritability as before.

 “You think I’m lying,” His earlier question comes out as a firm statement and has you just about wincing upon hearing it. Kunikuzushi looks back at last and his eyes lock with your discomforted expression—a rather audacious look to have on your face in his opinion, seeming as you’re the one accusing him of doing wrong.

Beep! Beep! Beep! Beep! Beep! Beep!

Seeing that your previous plan of diffusing the situation—and his anger—failed miserably, you move on to your next one, going on to ask in a cautious tone, “Why are you getting so worked up anyways? All I did was tell you that your medication wasn’t in the cabinet.”

 “Unless…Kunikuzushi, did you actually—” You stop yourself from letting the full sentence slip out, but it was futile. The rest of your question weighed heavy in the silence that followed, lingering in your boyfriend’s ears—his mind—until he finally exploded.

 “I took the fucking pills, aright?! I took them last night and then put them back in the cabinet! Them being gone now has nothing to do with me!”

Beep! Beep! Beep! Beep! Beep! Beep! Beep!

  “I didn’t mean it like—” “Bullshit. You know exactly what you meant!”

Beep! Beep! Beep! Beep! Beep! Beep! Beep! Beep! 

 “Do you even think I took them? Because I did. You know why? Because someone wouldn’t stop bitching about it!” His screams bounce off the walls before reaching your ears. The volume has you flinching away from it.

You’re sure that if your neighbors weren’t out of town, you’d have a noise complaint taped to your front door come morning..

Beep! Beep! Beep! Beep! Beep! Beep! Beep! Beep! Beep!

His voice suddenly dips, evening out to his normal tone yet still holds his anger as he spoke, “I’m not a child. I’m capable of doing things without you having to constantly keep up with me,” He turns his head away from the entranceway—from you—deciding to direct his glare to the table instead. Having such an intense gaze off of you felt like a drop of water in a desert; relieving. It allows you to breathe and move at last, albeit with trepidation, and you do so, slowly making your way over to him.

Beep! Beep! Beep! Beep! ………..Beep.

You make it up to him relatively quickly even with your turtle-paced walk. You stop right behind him, but he doesn’t acknowledge the newfound proximity and continues to keep his back turned to you. You don’t feel disheartened by this. If anything, you found this a blessing. After all, it’s much harder to keep your voice from wavering when you have daggers pointed your way.

 “I’ll admit, for a moment, I did doubt you” You began, your hands reaching out for him, your shoulders relaxing when he allows you to slide your hands onto his shoulders. You grip at them, tenderly squeezing and massaging the tensing flesh underneath your fingertips as you continue on to say, “Even so, I believe you now. I mean, why else would you get so upset otherwise, right?”

Kunikuzushi remains silent so you assume that’s his way of giving you the green light to keep going. You take the chance, leaning in to plant a kiss to his scalp before muttering into it.

 “I don’t see you as some helpless kitten, but I just..I worry about you sometimes.. A lot of the time, actually. I always am. I never intended to come off as bossy. I do try to stress the importance of taking your medication and following up on your appointments with your therapist, but that’s only because I want to ensure you’re okay.” 

 “That still doesn’t give me a pass for my actions, though, and I hope that you’ll be able to forgive me. If not immediately, then maybe after some cuddles and a good night’s sleep?” You’re full on leaning into his back now and you’re certain that at this point you were likely leaning all your body weight onto him. It wasn’t entirely on purpose. In fact, you’re pretty confident in your assumption that those noodles digesting in your stomach had sucked away the little energy you had in you and were the cause of this, but you didn’t really mind. Not if he didn’t. 

 “I’m going to bed,” Is what he mutters instead of an apology for his overreaction—not that you expected one from him anyways. You stopped expecting and hoping for things like that a long time ago, as sad as that may be.

He sits up and you begrudgingly straighten up yourself. Too tired to even hold your head upright, your head droops as if it weighed the same as a sack of jewels. Having no choice but to stare downwards, you watch as the chair legs move back and his knees straighten out as he stands up. You slide back, allowing him space to walk past you. He does just that, but before he’s completely out of reach, he swings his arm back and hooks your fingers with his. It’s then that your eyes open to what he really said, or rather, what he wanted to say but couldn’t bring himself to.

 “I’m sorry. Let’s go to bed, please.”

You squeeze his hand once and never let go; silent proof of your acknowledgement and acceptance. Kunikuzushi, feeling your grip warming his hand, steps forward..only for his knees to suddenly become jelly underneath his skin.

His legs buckle for a mere moment before he collapses, ultimately dragging you down with him. Your descent is short, yet you still stare at him as if you two had just fallen off the side of a mountain and managed to survive the fall unscathed; bewildered and fearful.

 “Are you okay?” Your lips move faster than your brain can process what just happened. Your limbs do too, your free hand coming up to cup his cheek. Kunikuzushi leans into your touch instinctively only to soon after peel it away from his slicken skin; a contradicting action, one of many that made up the person you loved.

 “I’m..” He meant to say fine, but slurred incoherency replaced the word instead. It made your brows furrow, made your worries grow sky high, but as you fixed your lips to ask him more questions, he suddenly leaned against you and it was then that you finally realized the problem.

Your poor baby was tired—no, exhausted. So much so that he could barely even walk.

You sigh—more so out of relief than anything else—as you force yourself onto your feet once again. You help him up, and despite the feeling of him leaning against you feeling like a boulder crushing you, you slung his arm around your shoulder before beginning to walk step by step to your safe haven—the place you both often yearned for when you wanted to escape from the world; your shared bedroom.

In a matter of minutes, the two of you were wrapped under the gentle heat of thick covers while your heads were caressed by the soft plush of your pillows.

At last, you two found peace. You especially felt relaxed at the warmth of the noodles you ate earlier feeling like a fireplace in your stomach, though it did little to improve your overall circulation. Nevertheless, it fueled your drowsiness, gave you a push as you crept to the edge of the hill of sleepiness, just about tipped you off the edge that led down to the bottomless abyss you’ve come to call dreamville.

But how could one properly sleep with their goodnight kiss?

 “Goodnight, Kuni..” You whispered, eyes just barely open as you lazily craned your head upwards. Kunikuzushi, as if having read your thoughts, was already leaning in.

You meet at a point and your lips connect and grow slick in an instant by each others’ saliva. His mouth starts tingling, quickly spreading to his tongue. It felt as if someone had spit already chewed up food into his mouth. It forces a grimace onto his face that’s barely visible even when he pulls away. In the end, as you turn on your side, he tries to swallow down. He struggles. His saliva feels like a soggy chunk of ramen, but he manages to succeed. Unfortunately for him, the taste lingers, and in the end, he forces himself to ignore the sickening feeling and taste altogether.

He grumbles out a similar phrase of wishing you a peaceful night's sleep, finding himself licking his lips as he does so. His tongue brushes along his lips, swiping up the thick slick that coats it. With his eyes closed, he doesn’t notice its color and though it burns his tongue and makes him want to vomit just like your kiss did he, again, pays it no mind. Though his reason this time was because he simply had no other choice, too tired to even open his eyes.

He begins drifting off to sleep. His strength fades first; starting from the tip of his toes and slowly making its way up to his face—which felt as if it had been splashed by a bucket of water. It felt damp, just as it did earlier when he woke up. Was it sweat? If so, how long had he been sweating?

....He’ll find his answers tomorrow, surely.

His body seems to fall asleep before his mind could catch up, and because of that, he remained awake despite his eyes and sense of touch having long left him. It feels weird—discomforting even—to feel so numb and only be able to hear the slow thumping of his heart. Though it was still a paradise when compared to his sleep paralysis moments he’d have at times.

All things must come to an end at some point though, good or bad. This is no exception. Slowly, the beat of his heart slowed to a point a turtle could beat it in a race before it stopped altogether. What quickly followed that was his fade in consciousness—which felt as though he was falling down a deep, clean hole. Nothing to grasp at, nothing to feel.. Nothing to guide him but the eerie sense of weightless chilling his bone marrow.

And just before he hit the bottom he heard your voice, suddenly felt your touch, and it was as if every negative thing that was happening to him in that moment had vanished..

 “No matter what happens, Kuni’, I’ll always love you and stay by your side. I’m not going anywhere, so please, sleep without worry so that when you awake again, you’ll be able to properly relish in the sun.”

………………….Beep………………….

 “Tonight, many are mourning the depressing news regarding the worldwide music sensation, Scaramouche—real name Kunikuzushi—who was found dead in his vacation home this morning.”

 “They say that friends of the artist had grown concerned due to his sudden drop in communication and decided to pay him a visit after he missed an important get-together that had been planned months ahead of time. When they arrived at his vacation home, they found that all the lights were off and the door unlocked which spurred them to investigate and eventually find him dead in his bed, choking on his own blood and vomit.”

 “It is reported that his cause of death was caused by severe overdose likely triggered by the chewing and ingesting of Amitriptyline. With the discoveries made so far, Police suspect his death of being a suicide and that he had to be dead for at least a few days before he was discovered.”

 “It causes many to wonder; could his sudden death have been related to the Y/n L/n case? Possibly driven by his own guilt? Or did his now missing manager have something to do with this? More about our thoughts on tonight's talk show after this commercial break!”

Dividers were made by me, pictures used are from Pinterest, post formatting is inspired by @xxsabitoxx