#thank u for sending this in!! this was fun

[winwintea]

underneath the tree

PAIRING ↬ co-worker!lee jeno x female!reader (ft. bm from kard, ningning from aespa, yeri from red velvet, julie from kiof, mu from epex)

GENRES ↬ social media au (smau), fluff, romance, some angst, very fun no tricks i promise okay (im very serious pls trust me yall)

WARNINGS ↬ profanity, alcohol/drug consumption, sexual jokes, sexual content, (nothing explicitly written out) maybe some stalking but it’s okay it’s jeno, i probably have a love actually obsession, bm is a questionable(?) boss, jackson wang is here to throw a party

SUMMARY ↬ you’ve heard enough of the word ‘christmas’ and it was only the beginning of december! sometimes you’d wish people would just throw their cheerfulness out the window and focus on reality. unfortunately for you lee jeno has just drawn your name for the company’s annual secret santa swinter swap and he’s going to make sure you get a gift you’ll never forget. (and maybe even get you to appreciate christmas along the way?)

UPDATE SCHEDULE ↬ everyday starting the first of december! merry christmas!

TAG LIST ↬ OPEN at the bottom (send me an ask or request here if you’d like to be added! + those tagged will be in the tag list of all chapters of this series!)

PLAYLIST ↬ here!

AUTHOR’S NOTE ↬ it’s tiiiimeee! been working on this for ages… planning since like july (i’m just a girl…) very very very inspired by love actually. jeno is a self insert atp???? i love christmas too much??? movies??? songs?? food???? drinks?? sign me up i need jackson wang to throw me a party rn. thank u to everyone who helped when i was stuck with ideas 🙏 yall are the best <33

the chorus groups:

one | two

carols:

track. 01 ↬ white winter hymnal

track. 02 ↬ we need a little christmas

track. 03 ↬ it's beginning to look a lot like christmas

track. 04 ↬ jingle bell rock

track. 05 ↬ sleigh ride

track. 06 ↬ winter wonderland

track. 07 ↬ the first snow

track. 08 ↬ be there for me

track. 09 ↬ run rudolph run

track. 10 ↬ the polar express

track. 11 ↬ christmas don't be late

track. 12 ↬ mary, did you know?

track. 13 ↬ all i want for christmas is you

track. 14 ↬ snowman

track. 15 ↬ the polar express

track. 16 ↬ love actually

track. 17 ↬ a nonsense christmas

track. 18 ↬ officially christmas

track. 19 ↬ do they know it's christmas?

track. 20 ↬ christmas time is here

track. 21 ↬ wonderful christmastime

track. 22 ↬ carol of the bells

track. 23 ↬ believe

track. 24 ↬ snow dream

track. 25 ↬ christmas is all around

track. 26 ↬ underneath the tree

track. 27 ↬ christmas canon

track. 28 ↬ ???

[jelzorz]

197.

It feels like treason to think it. Opeli would feel guilty for it on a normal day, she thinks, but the situation is dire and she wonders if anything will ever feel normal again. The Banther Lodge is a far cry from the castle, and it is crowded enough without the kingslaying elephant in the room.

She watches Soren fight Rayla over it.

She watches Ezran hide his tears.

She watches the Kingslayer walk free.

Well, she thinks. There are certainly worse things than thinking it. There are worse things than talking to her friends, her family, who also happen to be part of the council. Worse things have been done than calling a meeting behind Ezran's back, who is the King, yes, but a child first, and he has enough on his hands without this too.

"I don't think Prince Callum can continue being a part of this council."

Soren grimaces. Corvus shifts uneasily on the spot. Barius makes a face and fiddles with his hands.

Opeli stares them down. "Do you disagree?"

A pause. A sigh. Soren huffs and glances through the cellar kitchen window to make sure Callum is still preoccupied with defending Rayla and her murderous father from anyone who dares to look at them the wrong way. "No," he mutters after a moment. "You're right. You usually are, but this... Is Ezran's decision, not ours."

Opeli scowls, some misplaced maternal instinct raising her hackles. "He's dealing with enough," she says shortly. "He's eleven years old, his home has been destroyed, and his own brother returns with the elf that killed—"

"We get it," interrupts Corvus tiredly. "And we're not disagreeing with you. You're right. But what are you asking us to do, exactly? Kick Callum off the council? Is more internal conflict really what we need right now?"

"With respect, High Cleric," says Barius, "are we even supposed to be having this meeting? Isn't it breaking some sort of law to be talking about this before talking to King Ezran?"

Opeli wrinkles her nose at that, the wrongness of this heavy in her gut. "It's not illegal to bring up a concern with members of the council in confidence," she grumbles. It's a weak argument, but it's been played in court before, and she's not above playing the same dirty tactics to keep her king safe. "We are Ezran's council," she asserts. "Our duty is to him and to Katolis and I don't believe Callum's priorities are quite the same. He—" She grimaces too and locks eyes with Soren. "He's starting to remind me of your father."

Soren snorts at that. "Don't I know it," he mutters, and Opeli sees the truth of it in his eyes. Soren would know better than anyone what magic can do to people, the kind of power it gives them, the cleverness they think wielding it grants. "But Opeli, seriously, what are we going to do? We can't just arrest him. All this aside, he's still the prince. He's Ez's brother."

"One might argue that King Harrow was his stepfather, and you can see how much he cares about that."

Another pause. The room flinches because they all know that it's true, what an insult it is to Harrow's memory that his murderer would be allowed to dine at his son's table.

"Have you asked Ezran what he wants to do?" asks Corvus at last.

Opeli winces. "I didn't want to burden him with it," she mumbles. "I don't know that he knows what to do and frankly... I don't either."

"A first," says Barius, not unkindly. "It's all right to be concerned, High Cleric. It's all right not have all the answers."

"Yes, well." Opeli clears her throat and bows her head, hiding her weakness in the way her hood falls over her eyes. "I'm not particularly good at not having answers. I've come to you three hoping you might have them instead."

"I don't think we can help anymore than you," says Corvus wryly. "But our duty is to Ezran, the same as you. Soren and I won't let anything happen to him. The same way Barius won't. The same way you won't. Okay?"

"Call it a secret council pact," adds Soren with a grin. "If Callum does anything else stupid, we step in, no matter what. Deal?"

Hardly, thinks Opeli, even as she nods. She takes what little solace she can get.

[anakinstwinklebunny]

hi diva!!!! i was wondering if you’ve seen the movie “secretary” 2002….iykyk..

there’s one scene where the main girl crawls towards her boss with some papers in her mouth…hear me out….that scene x stephen glass….

he can be the boss or the one crawling i don’t care! thank u, i love ur work

-💜

TW: Stephen Glass lmao

Author's note: I am a diva again, slay. Welcome to the bunny's family beautiful anon, hope you'll enjoy it :33 also fun fact, I did literally the same thing with Clayton Beresford here

You stood awkwardly in the doorway, papers clutched in your hand, his email instructions still vivid in your mind:

'I need this report on my desk. No edits. Bring it to me in five minutes. Alone.'

STEPHEN GLASS was seated behind his desk, dark hair slightly disheveled, his glasses perched precariously on the bridge of his nose. The soft scribbles of his pen writing on the paper was the only sound you could hear in the room.

“Close the door,” he said without looking up.

You did as you were told, the sound of the latch clicking shut sending a small shiver down your spine. You approached his desk, the papers trembling slightly in your hand.

But before you could set them down, Stephen’s eyes flicked up, pinning you in place as if you did something wrong

“Not like that,” he murmured, leaning back in his chair “i want you to bring them to my on your knees.”

Your breath caught.

Have you heard him properly?

“Excuse me?” you managed, though the slight quaver in your voice betrayed your attempt at defiance.

“You heard me,” he said softly, but there was nothing gentle about the look in his eyes. ���Crawl to me.”

Heat flared in your cheeks, indignation and something else—something choking the air out of your lungs. You hesitated, but the way he was gazing at you was unbearable, stripping away every ounce of resistance until you finally sank to your knees.

The carpet scratched against your skin as you inched forward, the papers clutched tightly in your hand. Stephen’s smirk widened, his eyes darkening with satisfaction as he watched you close the distance between you.

“Good,” he murmured, his voice low and smooth - the one you imagined late at night when none was around. “Keep going.”

“Slower,” he murmured yet it was so commanding and firm you obeyed without much thoughts

Your palms pressed against the rough fibers of the floor while you inched forward, your head bowed, too nervous to look at his eyes. Each shuffle of your knees was deliberate, slow (just as he wished), and humiliatingly loud.

By the time you reached him, your heart was pounding, your breath shallow. You held the papers out to him, your arm trembling slightly.

But Stephen didn’t take them.

“Use your mouth,” his voice barely above a whisper.

His expression didn’t falter.

He was completely serious.

Swallowing hard, you hesitated for only a moment before you obeyed, clenching the papers between your teeth. Stephen’s gaze flicked to your lips, his lips quivering as he reached out, brushing his fingers against the edge of the paper as he took it from you.

“Good girl,” he murmured, his voice dripping with satisfacting approval.

Your cheeks burned, your knees aching from the position, but there was something undeniably electrifying about him at the moment. The power he held over you, making you submit so easily.

“You’ll do anything I ask, won’t you?” he asked, his voice barely above a whisper as if he was on the edge of finishing something..

Your thighs clenched instinctively, a spark of heat shooting through you at his words. The question hung in the air, demanding an answer.

Your answer.

“Say it,” he demanded, his tone sharper now, leaving no room for hesitation.

“Yes,” you whispered, your voice barely audible around the papers. “I’ll do anything.”

Stephen’s eyes glittered with satisfaction “Good.”

He set the papers down on his desk without a glance, his focus entirely on you. His hand slid under your chin, tilting your face up to meet his gaze. The intensity in his eyes made your heart race, your entire body trembling under the weight of it.

“Now,” he said, his thumb brushing along your jawline in a touch that was as gentle as it was possessive, “let’s see just how far you’re willing to go.”

TAG LIST: @kingdomhate @divineani @haydensprettyprincess @skyguys-princess @catnipaddictt @heartscone @haydensbbg @inneedsoffanfics @jediavengers @literally-izzy @anisluvrgirl @slutforfinnickodair @xhunnybeeex @fuckmyskywalker @gallerygourmet @deceptiive @anakinskwkler @bimbo-baggins17 @cookybananas @emotionallybruisedx @diorvalentina @sevinax @throughparisallthroughrome @aniiuv @ritosparty @ninastyless @lily-strnlo @thesassypadawan @awhhayden @sydkneez

[mintaii]

one piece characters! suggestions were taken from here and twitter 🤠

[stevebabey]

uhm shyly comes into your inbox to give a steve idea :’)

finding him so so so pretty in that stupid dark blue polo, not being able to really look at him properly. it’s tight against his chest and stomach which makes him look delicious, wanting to be devoured really. he’s simply so pretty. worst thing is: he fucking knows it. so he’s cocky about it and teasing, it’s never relenting. he loves it and honestly so do you.

(feel free to ignore!)

trying to get my steve groove back on!!! thank u for sending something nonnie!! a lil bit of shy!reader <3 just a blurb too

Steve doesn’t know it’s a favourite of yours.

One of his polos fits his chest pretty perfectly if anyone asks your opinion. It’s that nice navy colour that looks good against his tan skin, with a bold stripe of white through the middle. A little plain but classic.

It hugs his biceps snugly and stretches ever so slightly over his chest. At the right angle, you can see the definition of his pecs and it’s awfully good at reminding you of what they look like with no shirt on at all.

The thought makes you fluster a bit.

He’s got plenty of polos but this one— this is your favourite. And he’s wearing it tonight, on Valentine’s day, and now you’re not quite sure you’ve been as slick with your wandering eyes as you hoped.

Across the booth, Steve smiles at you, his lashes kissing in the corner. He reaches up to scratch at the back of his neck and your eyes zero in on the bulge of his bicep instantly.

Steve’s smiles melts into a grin, a tad wicked.

Yeah, okay, maybe he does know it’s your favourite.

You fluster again. Something nudges at your foot under the table, right as Steve says, “What?”

He’s teasing. He definitely knows what.

“Stop,” you murmur, on the side of embarrassed. “You know what.”

Steve smiles again and drops his arm, thankfully, only to fold them and lean forward on the table. It does wonders for his arms, especially in that shirt. Damn that shirt. Damn him. He’s evil.

“Do I know what?” He pretends to muse thoughtfully.

He tilts his pretty head to the side just an inch. His eyes stay locked on you, drinking up every second your flustered reaction. You’re beautiful, even more so when you get all embarrassed about liking him.

“Steve.”

“What?”

“I will not be responsible for any further inflation of your ego, thank you very much.” You mumble it as you take a sip of your soda, eyes on the table. Why is it so terrible to have him know you were leering at him?

Steve laughs loudly. He finally slides his arms back and off the table, giving you a temporary relief.

“You’re the only one who can inflate my ego, actually.” Steve counters, his brows raising. He steals a fry off your plate and chews it slowly.

You eye him over your cup, skeptical.

“What do you mean?”

“Well,” He shrugs, swallowing his food. He takes a sip of his own milkshake, oh-so casual when he says, “Your opinion is the only one that really matters to me anyways.”

He grins across the table at you, a more mischievous shine in his eyes.

“Why do you think I picked this shirt?”

You’re equal parts mortified and enthralled at what he’s said. In your surprise, you accidentally inhale a bit of your soda and it burns as it goes down the wrong way— you cough awkwardly to clear it. Okay, less equal, more mortified now.

It’s your turn to ask. “What?”

Steve nudges your foot under the table again, teasing and flirting all in one. His pink lips curve into that grin that makes your heart flip flop— and there’s even a slight pink tinge to his cheeks. As though he’s also endeared but embarrassed by your attention.

“It’s your favourite.”

“It’s—” You splutter and for some reason, decide to lie. “No, it’s not!”

“Yes, it is!”

“No, it’s—” You pivot mid-sentence. “Who told you?”

Steve laughs again, that big loud belly-laugh where his cheeks get all chipmunk-y cos he’s grinning so hard. When he stops laughing enough to talk, he’s reaching across the table. You’re not quick enough to pretend to avoid his hand as he snags it with his own.

“Baby,” he says. “Nobody had to tell me. I could just tell.”

Somehow when he says it like that, when he calls you baby in a voice all sticky with fondness, it doesn’t seem like such a bad thing at all.

You nudge him back under the table and sip your sofa again to try think of something to say. He knows what you look like when you love something. How terrifying. How intimate.

Another sip of soda. Steve rubs his thumb over the back of your hand, content to gaze you. His view is sweet enough he must have cartoon hearts circling above his head.

You can’t think of anything to say in the end, so you just squeeze his hand and nudge his foot again — and trust that he’ll just be able to tell what you mean.

[dwightschrute11]

Mc page 2 except it’s like 2 months late

In order:

@superconductivebeans Julia Wright

@thursdaymoonrise11s Phoebe Honeyball

@faustinio27s Bonnie Hutchinson and Faustine Daemon

@theladyofshalott1989s Damien Evans

@julietpricees Juliet Price

@anomalyalys Elsie Corbin

@sunshines-legacys Sunshine Sparrow

[kusanagihaku]

*knocks at your door*

May I have haru + 🦊? （⌯'-'⌯)(∗´艸`∗)

hehehe haru as a nine-tailed fox!!

send me an emoji 🌱☂️✨ and your favourite ghoul 👻 for a doodle!

[celestialtarot11]

What does sun in the 8th remind you of?

golden glitter raining from the sky, turning into embers and ashes. smudging onto hard floors, leaving a bittersweet remembrance. you’re crowded by their absence, flooded with their visuals, and yet they remain eerily distant in the shadows. slippery like mercury. hard to get any real grasp, yet they burn so bright you’re blinded by the weight of their existence. always leaving behind their scent, their mark, their words somewhere. you think you see a sign of them, a touch of warmth lights your weary heart, and then it’s cold. cold like the way they stripped you vulnerable with their eyes. they’re desperate for a chance to redeem their soul, yet somehow hide from the sunlight, crawling back to their corners of darkness. morphing into the shadows.

[hungharrington]

omg a huge congrats again on hitting 1K bae!! u deserve it sm and I'm so excited for this sleepover teehee

soooo if it tickles your fancy I figured I'd send smth in early for our communal bf steve, could be as long as u want it to be!

[ GAZING ]  receiver taking sender’s jaw and saying “look at me” during sex or foreplay.

oh and have an amazing day ofc <3

aster! thank u so much honey :') feelin v loved and im glad u were as excited as me!! here's to the communal boyf <3 enjoy <3 MDNI, fem!reader, this entire blog is 18+

You're trying not to be overwhelmed but it's a lot.

Everything feels turned up to 11; the very sound of your heartbeat in your ears, the pulse of lust that thrums through your body, the feel of Steve's cock gliding in and out of your wet heat in a deliciously slow drag. It's a lot.

You can feel yourself trembling, just a little bit, your hands around Steve's shoulders sinking tighter in their hold.

"Steve," you cry, tugging him closer. You need to hide your face away, need to have him closer, need him to go slower— no, faster. You don't know what you want, so you just press your face into his shoulder and mewl his name again. "Steve."

The sound of your slick is loud, a lewd sort of squelch as Steve fucks you into the mattress, his body pressed above yours. He's moaning lowly, one hand on your hip, one fisting the sheets beside your head. He looks fucking ethereal — hair messy and that slight flush to his face, pleasure contorting his features.

His hips meet yours in a teasing pace, deep enough to have your back arching with every thrust and yet not enough. The fire in your gut coils up tighter ever so slowly. You want- you want— you want more. But god, it's so much.

You shift your legs, sliding them up til they wrap snug around Steve's waist — you pull him closer, need him closer.

"Y'good, honey?" Steve asks, voice raspy and breathy. "My girl okay?"

His words only succeed in winding the knot in your belly tighter and you pull him closer, eyes scrunched up as you silently urge him to go faster. You're not sure if you're capable of saying anything except his name. Whiney little noises escape your mouth, chest heaving. You sound completely fucked out.

Steve's hips slow in their pace and the whine that escapes you it pitiful, your legs around his waist tightening in hopes he'll continue. You can feel Steve's tummy press against yours as he shifts closer, his hand moving to move some hair out of your face. He hasn't stopped, his hips still roll into yours, cock fucking in and out of your hot cunt, but it's tantalizingly slow.

"Hey, hey, hey," He starts, voice a low little whisper. "Lemme see your face, hmm? C'mon, look at me." His fingers move, tucking under your jaw and nudging you out from hiding away in his shoulder.

Your eyes crease open, mouth already hung open in a whimpering moan and Steve softens completely at the sight of you; his girl, all teary-eyed on his cock. He purposefully nudges his cock in deeper, his hand on his hip holding you in a place and you mewl out pathetically — Steve surging forward to capture the noise with his kiss. He stays close, forehead pressed against your own.

"Oh, baby," He coos, not unkind. He gives a sloppy kiss to your cheek at the same time his hand travels off your hips, his fingers finding your clit. You gasp into his mouth, back arching up so your tits scrape against his chest, and Steve grins. "That's it, just take it. Good fucking girl, taking what I give her, yeah?"

"Steve," you gasp, fingernails digging into his skin by now. You feel delirious, can feel the beginnings of white hot pleasure teasing at your edges.

"I know, I know," Steve murmurs sweetly, his thrusts starting to pick up the pace. The sounds of your slick mix with the slap of skin on skin as he starts to fuck properly, his fingers still dancing on your clit. You moan louder. "You just take it and feel good, mm? That's it..."

[sacchiri]

Hellsing 2002 calendar illustration.

Ein wunderliche und erschröckliche Hystori von einem großen Wüttrich genant Dracole wayda Der do so ganz unkristenliche marrter hat angelegt die mensche, als mit spissen als auch die leut zu Tod geslyffen

A wondrous and frightening story about a great berserk called Dracula the voivode who inflicted such unchristian tortures such as with stakes and also dragged people to death

[sforzesco]

When you talk about Philippino history and then Roman history, as a Venezuelan it's been making me think about our history and like, I've always thought there's a lot of similarity there but now it's like...its so similar. Your house is haunted too! I always think about how we won wars against the colonizers but their ghosts are still there, and they still sit at the dinner table with us every night. Your work is so cool, I feel like I can extend that train of thought further through time. I've never been interested in Rome but now I kinda am!

Venezuela 🤝the Philippines: being haunted houses (colonized by Spain)

also that is so SO real, the ghosts really are with us!! THEY ARE AT!!! OUR DINNER TABLES!!!!! ngl, once you start noticing it, it's impossible to NOT notice how they've crawled into the spaces and just. stayed.

ancient Rome is so weird for it too, because if you asked me about it, I wouldn't immediately put ancient Rome down for haunting the Philippines, except for the fact that like Catholicism, it's fucking everywhere. it's gotten in the cracks and spaces between the walls. On the stage of theater, Nadres' Hanggang dito na lamang at maraming salamat: the main character is named after Julius Caesar

Closet Queeries, J. Niel C. Garcia

and so many people are named after figures from ancient Rome (I know enough Mark Anthonys I've run out of differentiating nicknames for everyone) that it rivals Catholic saints for naming conventions. neo classical architecture had it's moment in the sun in Manila, our ilustrados brought some of it back when they returned from Spain to call for reform, and then independence, and I am struggling to hold back a plague-infection comparison about that. like, something else crept in with Spain, and like Spain's ghosts, it Did Not Leave.

but on the other hand! there's a long, centuries long, tradition of using the events of the Fall of the Republic to discourse, discuss, to vent or call for action, current events. it provides a interlocutor when something hurts too much to say directly, it provides a stage to explore a tragedy that echoes in our own histories, it gives a script to voice an ideal that a government might otherwise put down. how many centuries have we used Brutus (and Cassius) to rail against Tyranny, and how many centuries with equal enthusiasm have people used Julius Caesar as a martyr to justify the rights of Kings and Empires? these things are equally as important (in a different way) from the ancient events that actually transpired. (this specific topic, of Brutus & the Assassination of Caesar and it's literary revivals in history, are the focus of The Brutus Revival, Manfredi Piccolomini)

and the cores of these things conflict with each other, but in that friction, it's like there's an invitation to sit down and think for a minute. to look back at history and feel it's immediacy in the present.

ANYWAY I got carried away, but I am glad!! that my stuff could make Rome interesting!!! I hope that you find new doors of thoughts to explore!!!!!!!

[gatheredfates]

A finished FFXIV Swap for @sylaurin! Loosely based off this post, because there's no way Alisaie would be outdone. Sadu is just there to egg them both on. ☀️

[red-flagging]

💛 seb/lewis :-)

(kiss fic prompts!)

a little epilogue to rabbits are chasing :)

Lewis's flight lands at 8:02PM, which means that by 7:31PM, Seb is parked outside the airport arrivals door, drumming his fingers against the steering wheel and scanning the sky for approaching planes.

It's quite silly, getting here so early, but it's not as if there's much left to do at home. There's roast vegetables waiting in the oven, the cauliflower steaks that he started marinating earlier this morning chilling in the fridge. Mina and Ellie are safely ensconced in their duck coop with the heater turned on for the night. The sheets on the guest bed are freshly washed.

The car parked behind him starts up. Its headlights illuminate Seb's cabin. For a moment, he catches a glimpse of himself, harried and too-bright, in the rearview mirror. He scrubs his hands down his face. Christ. Get it together, Sebastian. He is a full 39 years old. Far too old to be getting the same jitters that he did the first time he invited a girl over at age 17, agonizing about what album to have playing when they came back to his room. Lewis is far too old for Seb to be doing all this. Lewis might not even be gay.

His phone buzzes. Seb nearly jumps out of his seat.

Lewis

just landed

getting my luggage now

hows it so freaking cold here

The inside of the car is already fogging up. When he'd asked Lewis to send dates he could come visit and Lewis had said just so you know the next few months are kind of crazy for me, Seb had expected late fall, maybe the holidays. Not the middle of slush season, when all the roads up the mountain have a 50/50 chance of being so muddy that they're undriveable.

Sebastian

I'm outside, in the blue Infiniti :)

He glances back up at himself in the mirror. The scab from where a wood chip caught the corner of his eyebrow while he was sanding the new planter box is almost healed over. His hair looks as good as it's ever going to. If Lewis asks whether he's been using conditioner, he's fucked.

It shouldn't feel like this. Seb beat Lewis to Senna's record, and Lewis still laughed at all his jokes the next season. Lewis watched Seb DNF twice in five races and still said in the media pen that he was waiting for the day Seb would be back up on the podium with him. When they inevitably auction off Lewis's Le Mans racesuit, it'll have to be with Seb's snot all over the front of it, because Lewis let Seb sob all over him and then laughed as he wiped sweat off of Seb's cheek with the sleeve. After all that – the fact that he's about to be in Seb's house for the next week shouldn't make Seb feel like he's standing in front of Lewis naked, without even the promise of a fast car or a good competition to distract Lewis from looking right at him.

His phone buzzes again.

Lewis

outside i think

Seb peers through the windscreen. Lewis – or rather, the blurry figure lugging a giant suitcase behind him that he assumes is Lewis – waves at him from the sidewalk. Seb flashes his lights at him twice.

The back door opens and Lewis's head, along with a burst of cold night air, pops in. "Hey," he says, a little breathlessly. "I don't think this is going to fit in the back."

It does, eventually, but not without a fight that involves Seb having to climb into the trunk alongside Lewis's suitcase and physically wrestle it into place while Lewis shoves from behind. They're both out of breath by the time they finally climb back in the front and slam the doors shut.

"You know, there are beds at the farm," Seb points out. "You didn't have to pack your own."

Lewis shakes his head, tugging off his gloves. His coat collar is turned up around his neck. He's wearing an an ear warmer headband, held in place by two butterfly pins. Every other bit of uncovered skin is pink, even with the heat in the car up at full blast. Lewis shoves his fingers in front of the vents and sighs with relief, closing his eyes. "Ugh, thank God," he says. He sounds exhausted. "Listen, you're lucky I fit everything into one." It sounds far less like a joke than Seb would hope. The fact that the fondness in Seb's chest still manages to outweigh the exasperation is probably a sign that Seb's beyond salvation.

"Next time I'll bring a trailer so you can fit your bathtub and toilet, too," he says, reaching for the keys. The engine purrs to life as he flicks the lights back on, then leans forward to scrub the worst of the fog off the windscreen. The thermometer on the dash says it's still 3 degrees outside. They might still be able to make it back before the slush freezes over. "Okay," he says, sitting back down and twisting around to reach for his seatbelt. "Ready to go?"

Lewis doesn't say anything. When Seb looks over, he's staring out the front window, playing with one of his rings.

"Lewis?" Seb asks.

Lewis's head jerks around. "Hm?" he says. "Oh. Yeah." He doesn't move to put on his seatbelt.

Seb frowns. Kills the engine so he can properly turn in his seat. "Lewis," he says. "Is everything –"

Lewis leans across the console and kisses him.

It's barely half a second. Seb still hasn't moved by the time Lewis sits back down on his side of the car.

"Uh," Lewis says, after a second. He clears his throat. "Sorry. I just – Shit. Sorry. The whole way over, all I could think about was – I had to get it over with before I chickened out."

He's fiddling with his rings again, but his eyes stay fixed on Seb's. His jaw is set. He still looks half-ready to bolt through the door behind him, out into the night.

"Well, you don't have to make it sound like taking your medicine, Christ," Seb says hoarsely, and drags Lewis back across the console to kiss him properly.

Lewis's lips are still cold. When Seb opens his mouth, Lewis sighs, pressing in closer with a soft sound that makes Seb want to go twenty years back in time and kick himself for not figuring out how to make Lewis make that noise sooner. His hands settle on Seb's wrists, holding him in place. Seb slides his own hands up, cradling the back of Lewis's head, to return the favor.

When he finally pulls away just far enough to catch his breath, Lewis follows him, close enough that their noses bump. His eyes are wide. This close up, Seb can see the dark circles under them more clearly.

He closes his eyes. Lewis is still there when he opens them.

"How long have you been awake?" he asks.

Lewis blinks. "What," he says. "Are you talking about."

"Sleep deprivation," Seb says. His heart is pounding hard enough that he feels it in his throat. "People start to get delirious when they're tired enough –"

"I was awake for 24 hours and I didn't kiss you at the end," Lewis interrupts, his eyes sharp and bright. "I'm not making the same mistake twice."

Seb opens his mouth and nothing comes out. He tries again. Still nothing.

"Fuck," he says, closing his eyes. "Okay. Okay." He drags himself back upright and reaches for the keys. "We can – tomorrow. But we should – you need to shower. And sleep." Lewis's hand settles on his leg. Seb rests his own on top of it; after a second, he squeezes Lewis's fingers gently. Lewis flips his hand over and laces their fingers together.

"Yeah," Lewis says. His thumb traces over Seb's knuckles. "That – tomorrow sounds good."

The slush crackles under the tires when Seb starts to move. Ahead of them, the headlights carve a path through the darkness. Lewis's hand is a solid, steady weight against his leg. "Okay," Seb says, to himself, to both of them, to no one. Lewis hums softly from his side of the car. He squeezes Seb's knee gently.

Seb closes his eyes for a second. "Okay," he says quietly. "Yeah. Let's go home."

[woolying]

I LOVE U FANGANS !!! I LOVE U DR OCS !!!

just a few i enjoy <3 yay sooo cool ooough

dr mira : @gooseagain8 drsg : @danganronpasurvivorsguilt dr50th : @okthatsgreat drdw : @sir-sunny

the stupid idiot is mine teehee

[tetzoro]

good morning friendz & happy monday ! chased some pretty sunsets over the last two nights so i wanted to share <3 i hope everyone had a good weekend and their monday is off to a good start (ㅅ´ ˘ `) ᡣ𐭩

[pinkwindowwithin]

If you get this, answer with three random facts about yourself and send it to the last seven blogs in your notifs! Anon or not, doesn't matter, let's get to know the person behind the blog <3

^^

WAAH SORRY I MISSED THIS 👁️👁️ anyways…

Random fact number one: I am a twin… not identical though we’re fraternal so we’re boring 💔

Random fact number two: I have been into Tangled (Varian specifically lol) since 2018!! I am very normal about that boy… I also had an instagram account for posting tts art but I only have like. One pic from back then so here it is lul

Random fact number three: uhrhehemh I have nothing (I am a very boring person hegehe) so here’s a wip