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#but there was that feeling of “oh but I don't feel like I'm an actual real life bunny” that put me off using the word therian
prettyboykatsuki · 1 day
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✮ tags ; gn! reader, established relationship, fluff, alcohol.
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"Shouto,"
"Hm?"
"You're drunk,"
Your boyfriend leans his head on your shoulder and makes a noise in the back of his throat. "A bit."
More than a bit, you think. In actuality, you don't think you've ever seen him this drunk before. He's okay with alcohol, usually - but tends to stay away from drinking too much. You think the last time you saw him get actually drunk at all, you were both twenty and he was barely tipsy then.
He doesn't like getting drunk, he's told you before. A few times. The lack of control and hazy memories make him just slightly anxious, so he's careful around liquor.
You've been dating for years now, and unless he's living some double-life (a different one than being a hero) - you've never seen him get this wasted. Ever. To everyone else in your surroundings, it probably doesn't look that way.
But you've spent enough time to know him, and he's not like this usually. Nowhere near as absent minded he is now, at least. He hasn't been able to sit still since he downed that last bottle of shochu. He went to go play with Bakugou's cat, Momo and you couldn't find him afterwards. You lost sight of him for about half-an-hour until you finally found him in the living room while everyone else was outside, feeding Momo some treat that squeezes from a tube.
(You still don't know where or how he found where Bakugou kept the treats, but you decide it's better you don't ask. Plausible deniability, or something.)
You're both grown-ups, and you're not one to worry about his liquor intake. Still, though - you're worried. Even if it seems like he's not different to everyone else, you can tell. And it's bothering you.
"Shouto," You call out to him, your hands reaching to pet the back of his neck. He's a head taller than you, and a little heavy. Palms smooth against the prickly ends of his hair - tapered and neat. He presses his cheek to your shoulder. "Shouto, love."
"Oh," He says, suddenly remember where he is. He stands up but doesn't back away far enough to give you space. You're in a far off empty corner. Most people are in the backyard but Shouto wanted some air - so you're crowded against a wooden fence and wall with your boyfriend locking you in out by the entrance. He smells nice, you think - clean with a soft touch of aftershave. You look up at him. "Hi,"
"You're drunk," You repeat, watching him blink rapidly - bleary eyes and the faintest line of a smile whenever he glances at you. He's bent over, staring at you hard. "Is something wrong?"
His expression is the same as always. Unchangingly neutral with a strong and uncharacteristic rosiness to it. Your boyfriend is handsome, alarmingly so. You're aware of it constantly, but this new face knocks the air out of your lungs.
He's... pouting you think. But not fully. His lips aren't drawn together, it's subtle like most expressions on him.
But it's...there. You're not imagining it - the soft furrow of his brow, the press of his lips. His expression grows warmer and it only makes you more confused. He shakes it off, all of a sudden, a micro-expression that fades just as quickly as it appears.
"I'm okay."
"Are you?""
He blinks slowly at that. Concern aside, you can't help but think he's cute like this. His ears are pink enough to stick out against his skin, cold air making them flush even darker.
"I'm okay," He says, then looks at you. He sobers up if only for that moment. "Had something on my mind."
"Something you can't tell me?"
"It's supposed to be a secret," He mumbles. He's really drunk. You realize this late. "So I don't know if I can."
"Mm," You reply. You feel like doting on him suddenly, so you do, petting the back of his neck before hugging him a little. "That's okay."
He follows up with a light groan. You've never heard him complain like that, so you laugh. "But I want to tell you."
"I promise I'll keep your secret at least."
He smiles at you more fully that time.
He pauses for a minute, thinking it over. You don't do or say anything in return. A beat passes of you two standing and swaying with silence where Shout to grabs your hands from in front of you. You think he's being affectionate again, wanting to hold them.
He draws your hands to his pocket though. The angle is awkward, makes you bend your wrist on the inside of coat pocket until you feel something hard and square touch your fingers. It's velvet from the material. A box of some kind.
...A box?
Shouto guides your hand again, this time out. When you pull it out, his palm is over yours. It's a jewellery box. You blink a few times, confused. Shouto hasn't let go of your hand.
"I keep missing the timing," He says, hiccuping. The lack of sobriety more clear than ever from the slight slur in his words. "It's been in my pockets for a while."
Your eyes go wide open. You can feel your own confusion and excitement twist and tangle inside of you, frantic to get a better read on the situation. He smiles down at you, disarmingly and then closes his eyes. His forehead is warm as it touches yours.
"...I thought you didn't want to married. Not really, at least." You whisper.
"Me too," He says, a wetness to his laugh that tugs at your heart . "It was on a whim. I wanted to talk to you about it. But." He frowns a little "It's tough."
You chuckle, a sudden wetness to your voice too. "I bet it was,"
He smiles at you, big and stupid. "I love you," He closes is eyes and presses his forehead to yours more. "Thank you for everything."
"Shouto," You repeat, unsure of what else to say. "What brought this up?"
"Mm," He shrugs, getting sleepier by the minute. "I thought giving you my last name would make you suffer." He admits, soft and unsure. "But taking yours. That felt...okay. Felt nice."
"You're silly."
"Yes," He says, not denying it. "And I love you."
"And you love me." You repeat, a grin splitting your face. Big tears at the corner of your eyes, making your vision sting and your cheeks ache. You look up at him again. "Enough to marry me?"
He seems almost sheepish that time. "If you'll have me."
"Are you sober enough to even remember this?"
His embarrassment makes him blush and laugh again. "My heart is beating so loud I'm a little afraid of it. So yes. I'm sure I'll remember." He admits.
"Let's get married, then." You repeat to him, so achingly happy you think you could die. You wonder when to tell your friends. Bakugou will be pissed you did at his place. "If you'll have me."
He smiles. "I'd like too."
You lean up to press a kiss to his mouth, and Shouto holds you there to kiss you longer than you expect. When you're done kissing, he's smiling.
"Anymore secrets?"
He thinks on it, then hums.
"We should get a cat."
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rafeandonlyrafe · 2 days
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followed (part one)
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words: 1.2k
warnings: stalker (not rafe), violence, rafe beats someone up but the guy is a creep
followed (part one) / accused (part two)
“hey.” you whisper, ducking under the man's outstretched arm as he looks at the various snacks on the shelf. “pretend you know me, please. i'm being followed.”
rafe doesn't really question it, wrapping his arm around your shoulder and smiling down at you, just as a man turns down the aisle. 
“there you are, baby!” you put on a big smile, eyes still wide, telling the truth of your feelings as rafe can see how nervous you are. “been looking all over the store for you!”
rafe can see the guy, overdressed in lots of layers of jackets, physically deflates when he sees you're no longer alone and defenseless.
“sorry, babe. i got caught up with the snacks.” rafe laughs, grabbing a random bag off the shelf and dropping it into his basket. 
“its okay.” you shake your head. “just happy we're back together.”
rafe keeps you close to him, arm wrapped around your shoulder as the man moves away. you let out a sigh of relief, head tipping forward to rest against rafes chest.
“thank you.” you say before straightening up and taking a step back.
“no problem.” rafe could tell how pretty you were from the moment he saw you, but now that you're not riddled with nerves, he can see that you're gorgeous. he shifts the basket to his other hand as he reaches out. “im rafe.”
“y/n.” you shake his hand, palm still slightly sweaty.
“let me stick with you while you shop, yeah? just in case he comes back.”
“oh my god, i would really appreciate that.” you lay a hand over your chest. “i dropped my basket a couple aisles back when he turned down the same row.”
rafe follows you, keeping his head on a swivel. he knows he can take the guy, he looked on the older side from the brief glance rafe had at him, but that doesn't mean he wants to get surprise attacked.
“i don't have much more that i need to grab.” you explain to rafe, walking just a step in front of him, causing you to turn down the aisle first.
you gasp and back up into rafe when you realize the same man is now hovering over your basket, waiting on you to return to it.
“i got you.” rafe whispers, dropping his basket, causing it to clatter against the floor. the man glares and doesn't back off like rafe was hoping he would.
“back away from my girls shit.” he growls out, dropping his voice. 
“oh yeah, what are you gonna do? beat me up and then get arrested? there's cameras everywhere.” the man says, taking a step forward.
rafe is quick to reposition himself to stand in front of you. “and then those same cameras will see you following my girlfriend all over the store. get out before i beat your ass.”
the man looks rafe up and down before rushing away, hopefully finally actually leaving.
“shit.” you let out a whine, causing rafe to quickly whip around to face you, seeing tears welling up in your eyes.
“hey, you're safe now.” rafe says, placing his hands on your shoulders, gently rubbing them. when the tears break loose and slide down your cheeks, he pulls you forward into his chest, allowing you to sniffle until you've got yourself under control.
“sorry.” you laugh awkwardly, wiping away the tears before realize you'd left most of them as a stain on rafes shirt.
“it's okay.” he says. “men who mess with women and kids are the worst.”
you nod in agreement. “i don't know how to thank you…”
“you can thank me by not wasting your tears on that creep, alright?”
you nod as rafe grabs your basket, not handing it to you as he picks up his own. “what else do you need to get?” he asks.
“um, just some snacks.” you follow rafe as he confidently walks through the store.
you finish your shopping together before heading to the checkout. rafe doesn't even let you argue as he pays for what you have in your basket, a little shocked by how much he makeup costs, but he knows it won't dent his bank account.
“shouldn't i have paid for you since you helped me?” you ask as you walk out of the store, glad that the parking lot is lit up with street lights, as the sun has set.
“nah.” rafe just smiles at you. “now where's your car? wanna make sure you get in safe.”
you lead him towards your jeep, watching his muscled arms as he puts your couple bags into the trunk.
“thanks so much. i… i don't even want to think about what would have happened to be if you weren't there.” you take a deep breath.
“hey, don't worry about it.” rafe watches you climb into your car, giving him a small wave before taking off. rafe watches you leave, turning out onto the street before walking to his car. 
hes about to pull out of his parking spot himself when he sees a beat up sedan sat in the darkest spot of the lot, right under a burnt out light. rafe squints into the darkness, letting out a growl when his suspicions are right. 
he leaves his car, not bothering to sneak as he walks up and taps on the window. the man is disgruntled but rolls it down.
“there's cameras in the parking lot too.” he says.
“yeah, but it's pretty dark right here.” rafe looks around before reaching into the open window, holding the man by the collar while his other fist pummels into him, hitting his face over and over until it's a bloody, bruised mess.
“that'll teach you to never mess with poor defenseless women ever again, fucking creep.” rafe isn't finished yet though as he spits onto the man, taking the keys out of the car and tossing them away, leaving the man to have so scrounge on the ground for them later.
“shit.” rafe turns around to see your car is back in the parking lot, your eyes wide as you watch him from the drivers seat.
rafe wipes the blood off his knuckles onto the guys shirt before walking over to your jeep.
“im sorry you had to see that.” rafe says as you step out, piece of paper in hand.
“it… its okay.” you shake your head. “im glad you did that.” you're not one for violence, but the creep had it coming.
“are you okay?” rafe asks, not sure why you came back, but he's glad to see you again.
you stick your hand out, giving the paper to rafe. “came back to give you my number. can't believe i left without doing that.”
“ah.” rafe smirks. “seeing me beat up that guy didn't make you change your mind?” he sticks the paper into his pocket, knowing he's going to pull it out the second you're gone to save it to his phone then memorize the digits.
“not at all.” you admit, looking down at your feet. “if anything, it makes me like you more.”
“dinner this friday?” rafe doesn't want to wait to plan out your date, needing to know before letting you go when he will see you again.
“that's too far away. how about tomorrow?” 
rafe is surprised how forward you are, but grateful for it as he nods. “ill text you.”
“ill be waiting.”
sfw taglist: @winterrrnight @bejeweledreverie
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sunkissed-zegras · 2 days
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headcannons of you being a media girl for the team and KK constantly annoying you and pulling you with her to make tiktoks
you cannot tell me that kk wouldn’t be all up in that camera
“welcome to the kk arnold show-“
“ KK GIMME MY DAMN CAMERA!”
𝐔𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐍 𝐖𝐁𝐁 𝐌𝐀𝐍𝐀𝐆𝐄𝐑!𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐂𝐀𝐍𝐎𝐍𝐒
─ warnings | nothing but light banter, pretty much nothing else?
─ taglist | @xocherishxo @iienstein @yazmunson @euphternal and here's a link to my taglist if anyone would like to join!!
─ ev's notes | so instead of like media girl hc's, i'm gonna do manager, it's basically the same thing except manager kinda does everything, it's not limited to photos and social media. it's BASICALLY the same just more of an umbrella term LOL, i hope y'all enjoyed!
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you've been the manager for the women's bb team since freshman year and let's just say it's SO chaotic but very rewarding
and yes, you're so right
kk would force you to be in the videos and you're all like force smiling, looking like you're being held hostage
everyone in the comments are SCREECHING cus your answers are always so hilarious and they all love you
"who has the best music taste on the team OTHER THAN YOU?" "other than me?????" "yeah.." "no one, i have the best one"
but people love you sm
i feel like they'd make compilations of you interacting with the team (in specifically the tiktoks bc they're funny af)
eventually people coin the term... "y/n and her toddlers"
you're like the mom of the team (obviously cus ur the manager) but like in more ways than just one
like the freshman first start to open up to you, every comes to you for advice, etc etc
they all just ADORE you
cus who wouldn't?
since you're in charge of the social medias, you FEED the paige bueckers girlies
you take so many pictures of our girl and everyone on tiktok loves u for it
on the buses to games, oh god bless u
especially the really long car rides, everyone will do anything but sleep when the only thing you're tryna do is sleep
LIKE EVERYTHING, they will bring cases of redbull bc they swearrrrr it's team bonding
(they just wanna shit talk everyone they know)
they drag you into everything, especially like if two (or multiple) of the girls are having problems bc you usually know how to deal with them
they adore you yes, but they also fear the fuck outta you
so you make them sit down and talk it out (with you + any seniors at the time to make sure they actually do) then BOOM it's fixed
again, you're like their mom
here's a little snippet of what it's like being their manager 😗
──
"Hey y'all, welcome back to the KK Arnold show! Today we're gonna go interview the mysterious Y/N," KK shouted as she looked at the camera with a smile, beginning to walk to the sidelines of the empty court. She gestured to keep walking until they eventually reach you.
You looked up to meet the camera with a confused smile as you setup your camera. KK couldn't help but let out a laugh, causing you to shake your head in amusement.
"Everyone wanted to have an interview with you, how do you feel about that?" KK finally got out after she stopped laughing, unable to maintain a straight face at your confused expression.
You laughed softly, adjusting the camera before responding, "Uh... well you know, it's part of the job."
KK shook her head dramatically as the camera zooms in on her face, "She hates you guys, Y/N is a D1 hater-"
"No, oh my god shut up!" You laughed as KK gave you a mock glare. "I love you guys."
"How do you feel about the edits?" KK held in her laugh as she glanced back at you then the camera, wiggling her eyebrows.
"Of... Paige?"
KK shook her head, "No, of you."
"There are edits of me?" You couldn't but laugh as you shook your head, taking a seat on the bench as you finished up setting up your film camera.
"Yeah, the people are going feral." KK smirked, clearly enjoying your reaction. "Oh don't act like you haven't seen them, we send them to you on the groupchat."
You glared at KK before she bursted out laughing, putting up her hands in surrender. "Bro, leave me alone."
"No, you signed up for this when you became manager." KK joked as you held in your laugh with a thin-lipped scowl, pretending to be annoyed.
Before you could respond, Paige and Nika walked out to the court and KK waved them over. "Guys, Y/N's being a hater again."
"Aw, be nice to the freshman, Y/N." Paige joked as she joined you on the bench. KK sent her a glare as you and Paige laughed, Nika joining you two on the bench with a grin.
You shot KK a playful glare, though the corners of your lips couldn't help but twitch upwards. " Yeah, freshman privileges only go so far, KK. Don't push your luck."
"Bro," KK sighed exasperatedly as all three of you laughing. "Anyways back to the interview, how do you feel about the Paige edits?"
You and Paige glanced at each other before Paige began laughing. "Actually, as an veteran-edit watcher, they're really good. I don't know about the audios though, they're not very cordial."
"Oh my god, Y/N watched the KK Arnold show confirmed?" KK gasped as laughed loudly, joined by Nika and Paige.
"Bro, I recorded that video."
KK's smile dropped as she dramatically side eyed the camera and gestured toward her neck. "Cut the cameras, cut the damn cameras."
The camera didn't cut, it zoomed on all three of you laughing loudly. KK tried to maintain a serious expression before she sighed dramatically, "the haters are gonna keep hating."
"Facebook ass quote," Paige mumbled as you began laughing even harder, feeling your stomach beginning to hurt as tears began to build in your eyes.
"Oh you really wanna play with me right now," KK joked as she stormed toward you and Paige as the camera cut dramatically.
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↳ make sure to check out my navigation or masterlist if you enjoyed! any interaction is greatly appreciated !
↳ thank you for reading all the way through, as always ♡
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chahnniesroom · 2 days
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to have and to hold
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pairing: bang chan x female reader
summary: you don't think there's anything chan can do to make you love him more. chan continues to prove you wrong.
word count: 1.4k
warnings: mentions of pregnancy, lots of fluff!!
a/n: sorry it has been so long since i posted! i have been wanting to write this since that ep of return of superman where chan and felix took care of rowoon, it was so so sweet. also i'm so sorry but i did not edit this at all
till death do us part collection | read it on ao3 | masterlist
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“Do you think you’d ever want to have kids?” 
Your question breaks through the quiet dialogue of the show that you and Chan are watching. Behind you, you feel Chan freeze before he forces himself to relax and continue fiddling with your fingers.
Chan hesitates for a moment longer before answering.
“I don’t know,” he says, slowly and carefully. “I think that I’d want to eventually, but right now? Being an idol- It would be difficult. I mean, for anyone it’s hard, but especially with this career…”
“Do you like children?” you ask, curious even though you can anticipate his answer.
“Yes.” This time he replies immediately, although his voice is still cautious. He releases your hands from his hold and gently nudges your shoulders so that you twist to look at him. “Y/n- Do- Are you-”
“What?” you stare at him, not sure why he suddenly seems so worried.
“Are you pregnant?” he asks gently. “It’s fine if you are! We can totally work things out and I will 100% support you the whole time-”
“Oh!” You smack yourself in the forehead. “No! Definitely not! I was just thinking.” 
“Ah.” Chan slumps against the back of the couch, this time he’s actually relaxed. “Just thinking or- what brought this on?”
“I’m sorry,” you say hurriedly. “That must have been out of nowhere for you. No, it’s because my older sister’s wedding anniversary is coming up, the first one since she’s had a kid, so I wanted to let her go out without having to worry. I was wondering if you wanted to help me babysit?”
“I see,” Chan says, sounding relieved. “Your sister. Yes, I haven’t met Doyun yet, right? I’d love to help you take care of him.”
Your sister is delighted that you’ve offered to take Doyun for an evening and you quickly coordinate with Chan what day would work best. It’s not possible to babysit on your sister’s actual anniversary due to Chan’s schedules, but your availabilities line up on a Friday night the weekend after.
Chan is nervous leading up to it, which you find absolutely adorable. When you look over his shoulder one night, curious what he’s focusing so intently on, you find him scrolling through articles on interacting with babies as well as tips on baby-proofing an apartment.
Before your sister arrives, you work with Chan for a few hours transforming the open area of your apartment, placing pillows and draping blankets over sharp corners and making sure to keep any small objects out of reach. 
When the doorbell rings, Chan panics, popping his head out of the kitchen from where he’s been trying to figure out a way to prevent Doyun from being able to open the cabinets.
“We're not ready!” he says, eyes wide.
“What do you want to do, keep them waiting outside until you finish?” you joke, then pause when it looks like Chan is actually considering it. “Don't worry, I'll go let my sister in and you keep working on that. We'll be watching Doyunnie the whole time, so even if you can't work that out, it's fine.”
Your sister doesn't stay for very long. She hands Doyun off to you and assures both you and Chan that your place looks safe for a baby. After going through everything that is packed in the massive diaper bag that she’s leaving with you, she heads back home to get ready for her dinner.
Doyun has a short attention span and cycles between playing with a stuffed animal, a ball,
some plastic fruits and vegetables, and toy trains within the first hour. He is so adorable that you and Chan don't mind how much energy is required to keep him occupied. Luckily he's a fairly easygoing baby and hasn't fussed at all, although it did take a while for him to warm up to the two of you.
He's comfortable now, especially since Chan has started to spin the two of them around, hands firmly gripping Doyun’s torso. Doyun absolutely loves it, shrieking in excitement with his eyes crinkling. Even after a few minutes of the same thing, he never grows bored, just as thrilled everytime that Chan lifts him above his head. Although Doyun isn’t very heavy yet, after 15 minutes there’s sweat visible on Chan’s forehead and he’s starting to get out of breath.
“How about we take a bit of a break? Do you want to read?” Chan sits Doyun down against some pillows and rummages through the bag that your sister packed, finding some of the books that she included.
Chan hands the books over and although Doyun accepts both of them, he throws them aside and instead clumsily reaches up towards Chan, clearly asking to be picked up again. Chan pretends to groan and complain as he lifts Doyun back up.
“Aww,” you coo. “He really likes you.”
“And I really like him,” Chan says, spinning Doyun around. “I just wish I hadn’t gone to the gym earlier today, I didn’t realise what a workout this would be!”
Eventually Doyun grows tired, no longer begging Chan to continue. This time when Chan settles him on the ground, he just looks around curiously before crawling up to Chan and grabbing at his curls.
“He’s so small,” Chan marvels. “Look at his little fingers!”
He reaches out towards Doyun, who immediately wraps his hand around Chan’s index finger and pulls it towards his mouth.
 It's comical to see the difference in size between their hands and Chan visibly melts, allowing Doyun to gum at his fingers, quickly covering them in a sheen of saliva.
“Are you hungry Doyunnie?” Chan asks. “It’s almost time for dinner, let’s see what your auntie prepared for us.”
By the time Doyun is set up in a high chair with a bib on, you’ve finished cooking. Dinner for Doyun is simple, consisting of steamed vegetables, tofu, rolled omelette, rice, and a bit of fruit. You’ve also used the same ingredients plus a few additions to make kimchi stew for you and Chan.
Chan is distracted the whole meal, prioritising feeding Doyun and wiping his face clean in between bites over eating his own food. It's a futile effort since Doyun seems more interested in smearing the food around rather than getting it into his mouth.
When you're finished with your food, you switch spots with Chan and coax Doyun into eating the last few bites he has left while Chan scarfs down his own meal. 
After dinner, you carry Doyun into the bathroom and start filling the bathtub with a shallow layer of warm water. He watches with wide eyes as you add bubble bath that changes the colour of the water to a deep blue and creates a thick cover of bubbles. After washing the dishes and wiping down the kitchen, Chan joins the both of you just as you’re rinsing suds out of Doyun’s hair.
Cleaned and dressed in a fuzzy onesie with tiny bear ears poking out from the hood, Doyun struggles to stay awake for the rest of the evening. It’s obvious that he’s tired, he’s starting to get cranky and his blinks get longer and longer, but he stubbornly continues to play. After his third time nodding off while slotting plastic shapes into a cube, Chan picks him up and walks him around the room, rocking him slightly while humming a melody that you can’t recognize.
When your sister comes to pick up Doyun, he's sprawled out on Chan’s chest, deeply asleep. A line of drool drops from his open mouth to form a wet spot on Chan’s shirt, but Chan doesn’t seem to mind, staring at Doyun with stars in his eyes.
That night, right when you're about to fall asleep, Chan speaks up. His arms are wrapped around you and you can feel his breath against the back of your neck. 
“I think,” he says quietly. “I think I want kids. Not now, I still have the same concerns as before, but in the future? I want it.”
“You did so well with Doyunnie, it looked so natural,” you agree. “I think you would be a great dad.”
“Only if you’re there by my side,” he corrects.
“There’s nowhere I’d rather be.”
till death do us part collection | read it on ao3 | masterlist
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laneywrld · 3 days
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things lost and things found | Lewis Hamilton
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part one
word count: 9.2k
warnings: smut, smut, more smut, fluff.
There's no way for a friends-with-benefits agreement to fail when both parties understand the rules.
"Do you ever get tired?" 
Lewis turns his head to look at her inquisitively.
"What do you mean by that, Clem?" He chuckles.
Clem turns over onto her side, propping her head up in one hand.
"Do you think about having a life of your own without racing but with a family, a wife, and kids? Do you ever want to go home and stay home?"
Lewis stares Clementine in her dark eyes before he turns and looks back up at the blank ceiling.
"I don't know." He whispered into the air. "I don't have much time to think about things like that, serious relationships and such." He winces as he says the words.
"You're not hurting me, Lew, I know what this arrangement is. I was just curious." Clem chuckled, plopping back onto her back. She pulls the covers up to conceal her bare chest.
They lie in silence again, and Lewis is left to think about what she'd just asked him.
He spent a lot of his time in a serious relationship, and immediately after that ended, he was in his single bachelor phase; somehow, as the years went on, it never ended. That's how he's gotten Clementine in his bed.
Of all the girls he chose to spend his time with, Clementine was easily his favorite. She wasn't artificial or an ass-kisser to him; she was simply herself. And Lewis wasn't used to coming across women like that, given his status and all.
Clementine was actually the complete opposite of every other girl in his rotation. She was younger than him, yes, but she was also smart and had dreams she wanted to achieve on her own. He liked to joke that everything about her screamed old lady. Clementine liked that. 
What's cooler than an old lady? 
"I'm going to take that as a compliment. I can't wait to get old; there's beauty in knowing you've lived; I know I'm going to spend my life fulfilling my potential. It'd be cool to be an eccentric old lady, just happy and peaceful. Content with life."
It was entirely by chance that he ran into her at all that night two years ago. He had been taking a late-night walk in the streets of New York when he first saw her. 
Initially, her style caught his attention, but the closer he got to her, the more noticeable was her smile and then her voice. God, she had the voice of an angel. She had that classic American drawl, so sultry and sweet like she was straight out of the fifties but with a twist. 
Then he realizes that he's seen her before, and he stops in his tracks, trying to pinpoint where exactly he'd recognized her gorgeous face from.
"Do I know you?" Lewis questions confidently.
Clem halts, her lips puckering in as she squints at the unfamiliar man. "Sorry, Sir. I don't think so."
She surely doesn't recognize him.
And then it clicks, he snaps. "My photographer, Timothy McGurr!"
"Oh wow," she smiles. "I love Timmy. You said he's your photographer?" 
"Yes, for the last four years."
"Wow, four years." She marvels, "You model?"
"No." He laughs, shaking his head, "I race cars."
"Nascar?" She wonders, tilting her head to the side.
"Formula One." He corrects, and she hums, impressed.
"I've heard serious things about you guys over there. Anyhow, it was nice meeting you," she trails off, allowing him to introduce himself.
"Lewis." He sticks his hand out, "Lewis Hamilton."
As she shakes his hand, her phone lights up with a notification just as a black SUV pulls in. "That's me. It was a pleasure meeting you Mr, Hamilton." She smiles kindly, and then she slips into the vehicle and rides off into the night. 
Lewis stands there for a second. He doesn't know why, but he feels drawn to her for some reason.
The very next morning, he called his photographer for her details. Lewis has always been rather bold, so he isn't nervous when he dials her number. "Hi, Clementine?"
And the rest was history.
Lewis has learned one specific thing about Clem since their rendezvous began. She was an intense person. She liked to talk about any and everything. Lewis didn't mind it, though. It was nice to unpack with someone he knew wouldn't judge him.
She had a way of making anything she asked feel deep. Lewis was both enamored and intimidated by that.
Just as she was intuitive, she was equally as open. Lewis knew he could always bounce the question back to her, and she'd give him the most well-thought-out and theoretical answer. 
He loved listening to her talk just as much as he loved fucking her. 
"Do you ever get tired?" He ricochets.
"All of the time, and it's sad because I'm still so young, but I often wonder if any of this is even worth it. Is slaving away so hard going to be worth it in the future if I've spent my glory days basking in trying to find glory."
"I have faith in you, Clem. You're already lightyears ahead of the rest of us with that mind of yours."
She chuckles, and they bask in the comfortable silence for a while longer, both looking up at the ceiling of his New York penthouse like they're staring out into the galaxy.
"Do you feel like you have enough glory?"
"No," he answers honestly, "I won't be content until I reclaim my eighth." 
From the corner of his eye, he sees her head lull to the side and stare at him. Lewis doesn't get uncomfortable when Clem stares at him like he does when most people do. The idea of her reading into him is flattering more than unsettling.
"If you weren't a driver, what would you want to be?"
"A designer of all sorts, really. Music, fashion, you name it." He lists off, and she lets out an mhhm sound. 
"I can actually see that. You have a very creative mind." She praises.
"What about you? What would Clementine Russell be doing right now if she wasn't an actress?"
She chuckles, "Well, for starters, I wouldn't be naked in your bed. I'd probably be somewhere in the middle of nowhere, like Montana." She gasps, "Yeah, Montana! And I'd have a farm full of animals that I'd never eat, and I'd go out and sit and paint or write more stories that no one would ever see. If I could go back in time, I'd just write my stories, not play in them. I would hike the same mountain every day and watch the sunset. Yeah, I'd sit and watch the sunset every day and admire how beautiful everything becomes. "
For some reason, that statement holds a more significant sentiment than she intended.
"You sure do have a way with words."
"I try." 
Silence falls over that pair again until she breaks it.
"Do you think I'm annoying?"
"No, never." Lewis reveals, "I actually like having you here to talk to; why do you ask?"
"Sometimes I feel like I talk too much and ask too many questions."
"I think you make people feel seen when you ask questions the way you do." He hums. "Do people ask you questions?"
"No, not really." 
"Do you wish people asked you questions, Clem?"
"Yes."
That's when Lewis realizes that all that glimmers isn't gold. Clementine Walker had the life of a star. She could do anything she wanted at any given time. Yet she wasn't content with her life. She was actually rather lonely. 
"I write scripts for myself to act out when I want to talk about something." She chuckles dryly. "That's pathetic."
And suddenly, Lewis feels terrible for not asking the woman more questions. He feels like a shit person for receiving her and giving her nothing in return. Clementine was better than therapy for him; who gave therapy to her?
"What if we lay in bed after every meetup and we just talk? I consider you to be a friend Clem. I like listening to you. I like hearing about you, too."
"Okay."
"We can start now?"
"You first." She has a giddy smile on her face as she turns over to face him.
"Why do you think you feel everything so deeply?"
She hums, her eyes casting downward as she allows the question to ruminate. 
"I expect everything to be meaningful. I have a hard time seeing anything objectively. Everything has to mean something to me, and if it doesn't, what's the point? If it has no purpose, how am I supposed to accept it? I feel so deeply because every word, action, and situation has to mean something; there has to be a reason behind it. I've never had someone tell me that things weren't that deep; I wasn't taught to brush things off; I was taught to feel and to try to understand everything and everyone."
"I think that's beautiful. You're such a gracious being, you know that?"
She whispers a quiet thanks as she thinks over what to ask him.
"What's one thing you lost as a kid that you wish you could get back?"
"I had a remote-controlled big Homer car when I was a kid, and I used to drive it in the park every day. I got distracted one day and left without it; when I came back the next day, it was gone."
"Who gave it to you?" Clem inquires, and when Lewis turns onto his side to face her, she looks so intrigued by what he has to say. He doesn't think anyone has ever cared so much for what he has to say if it wasn't involving his career.
"My dad, for my sixth birthday. We were poor, so it meant a lot to me; I really cherished it. Felt like I took it for granted, I loved that car so much, but I left it. How could I forget something that important to me?"
Naturally, Lewis opens up to Clementine.
"You can love something and still lose it, which illustrates how much you adore it in the end. You never really know how much you appreciate something until you no longer have it." Clem enlightens.
Lewis wonders how her brain can process such complex thoughts in mere seconds.
"What have you lost?"
"A letter from my dad." Clem hums. "When he was in prison before things got bad with my mom and he stopped reaching out, I was turning eight, and he sent this beautiful card. It was Clementine orange, and when you opened it, a three-dimensional cake popped out with like a million yellow candles. I remember it saying these candles don't compare to the light you brought to the world on this day many years ago." Clem chuckles as she describes the elaborate birthday card. She picks at Lewis' sheets as she speaks.
He sees her lips pressed together, and she turns to face the ceiling again. She doesn't seem like she intends to keep talking.
"I'm listening, y'know. I'd love to hear more." Under the covers, his hand travels down until it catches hold of Clems. 
"I-um, He wrote his message in like really elegant cursive, and I was a kid at the time, so I had my grandpa read it to me over and over, like every day, until I had fully memorized it. I had never seen my dad in person. I had never heard his voice, not even over the phone. I had never even gotten a letter from him before. Still, the things he wrote in that letter were beautiful. I remember feeling a little less lonely as if he loved me unconditionally. There were dried tears embedded in the paper material. I knew he cried as he wrote it, and that made me feel like, damn, this is a man who means what he says, feels exactly what he writes. I don't know when I lost that letter or how I just knew when I went for it again. It was nowhere to be found. I'm forgetting the words he wrote to me."
"Have you heard from him since?"
"Once but not directly. When I turned fifteen, he was released. He felt like he wouldn't know how to be a father when he got out. Which I understood. I can't force anyone to have a relationship with me. It must’ve been hard going in when your child is an infant and coming out to her fully bloomed. He cried on the phone to my grandpa every time he argued with my mom. She'd say nasty things to him, like how he'd never be a father to me and how I was better off. I figured when you're locked in a cell, and all you can think about is going home to your child, it must’ve been hard to hear that you would never account for anything. I believe he gave up. Not everyone is strong enough to take on that kind of mental battle."
Even as Clementine describes how fucking sucky her childhood was, she is still showing grace to the people who ruined her innocence.
"He never asked to speak to me during these calls. My mother always kept him at a distance when he was in prison. If he had written more letters than the one he sent to my grandpa, like he wrote that he did, I never got them. She was good at telling him that she didn't want him in my life. I don't blame her either; neither of them was ready to be parents. I got a call on my eighteenth birthday. It was just breathing on the other side for a while. I had a feeling it was him, so I didn't hang up, but it was a gravely voice on the other end and he sounded a little choked up. Said the exact same line from my birthday card, I'm not sure if you like cake, but eat a lot of it today princess. Happy birthday. And then the call disconnected. Kind of fucked me up a little bit because I think I was just getting to a point where I was finally okay with not having parents."
"I'm sorry." Lewis solaces. 
"It's cool, builds character." She jokes dropping her elbow and lying completely on her side.
"I pride you on your gracefulness, truly."
"My grandpa always told me that if you can find grace in failings, life becomes more beautiful. If you can find grace in every situation, eventually, those graces will catch up to you. Everyone deserves to have grace; who am I to hold something above someone else because of how it made me feel? You never know what made someone act the way they did. In the end, it may have affected them more than me, but as long as I'm gracious and I consider these kind of things to be a possibility it makes it easier for me."
Lewis thinks back to all the times he handled situations without grace, when he allowed himself to blow up over small things, and how, in the end, it made situations worse than they needed to be. He internally hums at the realization.
"Shit." 
She is shuffling from his bed, sheets clutched tightly against his chest. 
She gracefully moves around his room, the sheets fitting her like a gown. Lewis props himself up on one arm, watching her gather her belongings. 
When she tosses the sheet back onto the bed, he watches as she pulls on her pants and steals his button-up to throw over her thin tank top.
She sits on the edge of his bed, throwing on her worn Adidas sambas. 
"It's been a blast, Sir Hamilton." She bows, and he softly launches a pillow at her. She catches it with a sweet grin and places it at his feet. "I have to be on set early tomorrow. My assistant sent a car for me."
"I'll call you when I'm back in town," he suggests, and she nods, letting out a noise of agreement as she saunters over to his bedroom door. 
"Be safe out there on the track." She blows him a kiss, and then she is gone, and he hears his front door close gently. 
Lewis likes spending time with Clem. She has a way of taking every ounce of stress from his bones.
Lewis wasn't a relationship kind of guy, and he liked that Clem understood that. She wasn't trying to force a relationship on him or was convinced she could change his mind. 
Clem was there for the great sex and the even better conversations. The two of them had made great friends out of each other, and they were both content with the status of their association.
Lewis never told Clementine this, but he liked watching her work. He liked how she could put out art, and he could resonate with it. Lewis thinks that Clem is the most emotionally intelligent person he's ever met, which is why everything she puts her hands on just works.
And it shows. Clementine is the kind of person whose words sound like they're straight from classic literature. She has a way of speaking that instantly captivates every person in her proximity.
Clementine was a Jill of trades. She liked to act, but she was an even better writer. This is why she was awarded co-director of her award-winning show after helping to direct only three episodes. He knew she had a knack for all things creative. She liked to draw, paint, and read, and she had a thing for tattoos just as much as he did.
Clementine was actually so fucking cool.
People loved her naturally; she only had to be herself, and it made people gravitate towards her. 
Being around Clem was like having the hands of an angel on you. It was impossible to feel troubled, even if you were going through the most unfortunate or stressful circumstances. If you had Clem, trust you'd feel nirvana.
Her words echo in his mind. I write scripts for myself to act out when I want to talk about something.
He switches on his television and clicks on the Netflix app. It's the first option under his 'continue watching' category, and he presses resume. 
Lewis loved her show, though he never admitted it. It was artsy and different than what was new and hot now. Clem channeled all of her favorites to make this show. He remembers her describing her obsession with Jim Carrey and The Truman Show. Her favorite movie of all time was Eternal Sunshine of The Spotless Mind, and her favorite character also shared her name. 
He knew that Clementine cried when she read Tuesdays with Morrie, just like she did when she watched Requiem for a Dream. She had an odd obsession with The Joker movie and was even more obsessed with the lore of how each Joker is portrayed differently. She always saw herself in Charlie, from the perks of being a wallflower.
She rewatched What's Eating Gilbert Grape at least once a week. If you asked her, Tim Burton was the best director in the world, and she had a special connection to Edward Scissorhands. She also loved anything with a narrator.
She was right. It makes you feel each character a little bit more to hear their every thought.
He now knows that she likes to narrate her own show because she likes to talk about what she feels. No one asks her how she feels.
Everything that Clem likes is so deep and complex, and it fits her perfectly. 
He must admit that he had never heard of any of these shows, movies, or books before meeting Clementine. But seeing how passionately she described them had him desperate to enlighten himself. He sees the inspiration of it all in her show. 
Every episode starts with a question. Clem appears facing away from the camera, an oversized Carhartt denim jacket adorning her frame. He sees that she is sitting on a mountain, a camera held to her face, taking pictures of the most scenic view he's ever seen.
Her voice emerges through the speaker, yet her mouth is unmoving.
"You can go anywhere in the world under one condition. You'd have to stay there forever, everything unchanged and nothing new will ever come. Where do you choose?"
The camera is still panned out but moves to the side, where he views her relaxed frame from the side. As the camera zooms in she breaks the fourth wall, turning to face the camera. The sky is oddly vividly blue in the background and the clouds are all weirdly perfect. 
"Probably here."
As the sun sets, the sky adorned in perfect warm hues, she sets the camera beside her and folds her hands in her lap. She turns to face the beautiful view, and she looks more content with life than she's ever seen.
Her voice rings through the speaker again as the camera pans out, and her body begins to look smaller and smaller against the vast sky.
"You can still see the sunset even on the darkest of days.”
-
The next time Lewis sees Clem is at her the Cannes movie festival.
She is obviously the lady of the hour, and he's had a hard time catching up with her. 
When he finally does see her, his breath hitches as she maneuvers through the crowd and away from the red carpet in a very elaborate gown. She looks like a princess.
Like she can feel his eyes on her, her head turns and she sees Lewis standing amongst a group of other celebrities. 
There are three people surrounding her. Zeus, her bodyguard, SK her assistant and finally her publicist Nia.
She approaches him, ready to greet him with a wide grin; Lewis has a grin of his own covering his face as he steps ahead of the group.
"Lewis, Hi!" She pitches, raising her arms to hug him; he happily accepts her embrace, wrapping his own around her frame. 
"Can't wait to see you on the big screen." He boosts, and she smiles up at him, ready to reply, when a hand clamps down over her wrist and begins pulling her away, "Sorry, got to keep going, Clem."
She offers him a rushed smile, lifting her dress so that she can exit with speed. Lewis has never once felt like the fan in a situation until it came to Clem.
"So the movie is going to be about cannibalism?" His friend asks, looking through the pamphlet.
"No," Lewis combats. "I mean, yes, but it's deeper than that, the flesh represents..." and he drones on describing the lore of her new movie, Bones and All.
His description is almost word for word the way you described it to him after he asked the same exact question.
"So it's a movie about eating people?"
Clementine laughed, shaking her head, and moved to sit against his headboard. Her skin was still flushed from their previous actions, and her mouth was dry. 
"Cannibalism is just the placeholder for many different vices. Everyone has their vices. By using something that damn near everyone looks down on, the symbolism of just how serious these issues are get understood tenfold. Think of it like this, you get mental illness from one parent, and the other denies that you have it. They believe you're perfect, nothing is wrong, but deep inside, there is this illness growing in you and festering out of control that you can't get help for, that won't be accepted."
"Imagine being homosexual, imagine not being able to express that, especially in the eighties; it becomes a bliss you have to satisfy in private. Something you must keep a secret, or something bad will happen to you. Some vices are passed on, like alcoholism or addiction, and even trauma can be passed on, like mental illness; it's about how you have to hide it all, how it catches up to you, and how it ruins you. If you watch it, think about that, Lewis. Think about what each character represents. What is the flesh they're eating?"
Lewis cries during the movie. He sees that he is not the only one as the lights illuminate the cinema, and there are no dry eyes in sight. Lewis would never understand how Clem was able to have such a complex mind and also make it so simple and still artistic to the point where anyone could understand.
Lewis usually hates being forced to attend film festivals. He especially dreads the standing ovations that drag on and on. But he graciously stands for the entire seventeen minutes that her movie receives. 
He's always told Clem that, at a certain point, she'd have to let that humbleness go. Lewis was a humble person, there was nothing wrong with it, but he didn't like that Clem thought she didn't deserve praise for her work. He wanted her to know she was the shit. 
He feels his heart swell with pride as she marvels at the cheers, whoops, whistles, and applause. 
He places his fingers between his lips, letting out a whistle of his own. It dominates the space, and she turns to face him like she knows it is him.
Clementine's grin grows impossibly larger, and she lifts her arm to wave at Lewis. He spreads his arms out in front of him and bows at her.
Clementine chuckles, shaking her head at him. 
Although she attends the film festival every year, this was her first time presenting her work as a director. This was a huge deal to her. Not only was she the star actress in the film, but this was hers. Her work, her words, her art, and people loved it and understood.
As two more dreamy minutes pass on and the cinema falls into an air of collective chatter, she folds her hands over her heart and speaks to her fellow costars. 
"Holy fucking shit," Timothee curses, "do you understand that we just got a nineteen-minute standing ovation?" He places her head between his hands, pulling it towards him and placing a kiss in her hair. "Fuck, Clem. You're a fucking creative genius, you know that?"
-
When Clementine finally got used to people she realized that she actually does like parties. Here she was being celebrated by people, some she knew, some she didn't all the way in France. 
She is in a mansion in France, fresh off the red carpet, throwing back shots with every pat on the back. There is a thrill in being praised, and with each pat on the back or congratulatory kiss on the cheek she gets, she feels herself levitating.
When Clementine first got the idea for the movie, she stayed awake for twenty-four hours, holed up in her bedroom, typing away at her keyboard as she planned and created rough drafts of a proposal. 
If you asked Clem, she doesn't think that she's a creative genius like everyone else believes. She thinks that she materializes how she feels into forms of art that people will understand. She doesn't sit and think long and hard or even look for targeted things to express. She just knows. 
Clem wanted to write a movie for those she felt had been denying themselves. For the kids confused about their feelings and things they can't control. From alcoholism, sexual identity, mental illness, addiction, and all the way to feeling lonely and navigating life on your own. She wanted to make a movie that materialized how it feels to come of age without understanding the purpose of life. And she'd done it.
Clem wouldn't say she was particularly close to any of the people here at the afterparty, minus Timothee. They had grown very close since filming together. 
Clem actually wouldn't say she was close to many people at all other than her small, tight-knit group of friends and, of course, Lewis. Which is ironic because their entire relationship is built on the basis of sex. 
She can't lie; when she first met Lewis, she was instantly attracted to him. He had a certain kind of charm about him that just screamed, You're going to respect me.
Clem liked that Lewis stood ten toes behind what he believed, always. She liked that he was genuinely a kind person and not just pretending for the media. What he put out was actually who he was, and Clementine wasn't used to seeing that in the celebrity world. 
Lewis fully intended to be friends with Clementine when he called her that first night, but the longer they were in each other’s presence, the more obvious it was to sense the lingering sexual tension between them.
Clem wasn't offended when Lewis admitted that he wanted to sleep with her and keep her around without the formalities of a romantic relationship.
In fact, she was fine with it. 
She didn't judge him when he explained how he wasn't a relationship kind of guy. She listened intently when he described how demanding his job was, and she even hummed along in agreement when he concluded that sex can sometimes just be fun.
It'd been two years since she first met Lewis; she was older and more mature. More demanding of herself. 
She was learning to let things go as the days passed and let things come when the world felt. 
She feels like she's gotten to know herself better, and she owes a lot of that to the nearly 40-year-old driver who has taken the time to unravel parts of her that no one else bothered. 
So when she sees Lewis walk through the grand entrance now dressed in a far more casual outfit than the black Louis Vuitton tuxedo that adorned his frame earlier, she can't help the way her smile makes her eyes crinkle.
She rushes from the bar, slipping past the guests, crowding the home, and speeds up the stairs as fast as her heels can take her. 
She lets her dress fall at her feet as she tosses on her own less formal outfit and descends the stairs again in search of her friend.
He sees her first, perched on the stairs with a concentrated face, and he chuckles at just how focused she looks. Her eyes are scanning the crowd, and he waits patiently until her eyes catch his.
When they finally meet, he raises his hand in a cool wave, and she grins, skipping down the stairs. He raises his brows when she finally makes it to him after being stopped time and time again by other partygoers.
"Lady of the hour, huh?" He jokes, pulling her into him. 
"I don't even know these people," she whispers, smiling softly and offering a wave as a drunken man passes by and calls out her name. She turns back to Lewis with fogged eyes, "Timothee wanted to throw an afterparty, so here we are."
"You have been celebrating?"
"I've taken a few shots or so." She smiles, "Can we get out of here?"
Lewis nods, "Yeah, of course."
His hand travels down and takes her own, leading her from the full house. "Where do you want to go, love?"
"Anywhere is fine; just want to be far away from people." She sighs.
Lewis peers down at her, watching as she scours the long driveway.
He motions her to his car and she slips from his hold already pacing towards it. She hops into the passenger side when she hears the car unlock and he plops down into the drivers seat.
"Why are you here in France? You didn't tell me you'd be here." Clem inquires as Lewis places his phone into her lap so that she can play music. He always preferred her music taste when they rode in the car late at night.
"I wanted to see the movie and support my friend." He smirked.
"You have to be in Monaco tomorrow!" she gasps. " You can't do that, Lew. You need rest. When did you even get here?"
"I touched down today after qualifying."
"No." Clem disapproves, "I could’ve just gotten you tickets to the premier. You must be so tired." 
Lewis shakes his head, "M'fine. Besides, I wanted to be one of the first people to see it." Which was a lie because he was totally exhausted. 
"Early flight tomorrow, then?" Clem asks.
Lewis only nods, already knowing her eyes are set on him. Frank Ocean begins to play through his speakers, and he hums along to the song playing. It brings upon his next thought.
"I say you posting in the studio?" He eyes, "Let me find out Clemy girl about to be in the booth spitting."
She laughs shaking her head, "not even, I was just there with Tyler. Did record a few vocals for him though."
"Maybe one day you should, I don't know, release something of your own."
Clem scoffs, "I know you think I can do everything. We're not all great at everything."
"It's true, do you think you can do it all, besides I've heard you singing in the shower; sounds nice."
"So you wait outside of the bathroom listening to me, creep."
He smacks his teeth, removing one hand from the wheel to blindly mush her.
"I'm serious, though. I think you have a beautiful voice."
"Thank you. Maybe one day we'll both stop playing in the studio and do something together." She chortles, "So I guess what I'm saying is, I'll do it if you do."
Lewis smirked, nodding his head. "Deal."
Lewis takes her back to his hotel for the night. He smiles as he watches her from the living room. She is on the balcony, arms spread along the banister. 
He approaches her. Like she can sense his presence, she speaks up, "Beautiful, isn't it?"
He doesn't bother looking out to the view. He keeps his eyes on her. "Yeah, very beautiful."
Sometime in the night, the two of them ended up entangled in his bed, both on their sides, as Lewis thrust into her from behind. One of his arms is outstretched and serving as a pillow for her neck, and the other is wrapped around her waist, holding onto her hand as he moves deeper and deeper into her warmth. 
He knows that when she squeezes around him for that final time, he's as good as done for, sheathing himself as far as he can get; his mouth drops open as he releases himself in heavy spurts. Clem exhales as he finishes, her grip on his hand loosening slightly. 
Lewis doesn't bother to remove himself from her core; the arm nestled between the crook of her neck and shoulder bends until his hand is cupping her jaw and forcing her head back towards him, where he is leaning over her shoulder. He smashes his lips against hers in a searing peck, one after the other, until he holds his mouth against hers. She opens her mouth, and their tongues glide against each other in perfect harmony. 
Finally, they pull apart to breathe, and Lewis pulls out with a hiss. They both fall onto their backs, his taken arm still resting beneath her head and his free arm holding their conjoined hands against his chest.
"It gets better and better every time." She admits, and Lewis lets out his signature boyish laugh, turning to face Clem. She is taking the time to catch her breath, a happy, satisfied grin covering her face as she stares up at nothing.
It's like a scene from a movie. The curtains flowed gently against the wind, and the night sky of Cannes was illuminated by stars blazing through his open balcony doors. Clem's exquisite side profile is the main focus.
He reaches over, pulls his phone from the nightstand, and slyly takes a picture before dropping his phone beside him and reconnecting their hands. 
"I should go," Clem announces with a sigh. "You have an early morning ahead of you."
"You don't have to go." Lewis tested, "It's late."
"It's always late when we're together, Lewis." Clem reminds.
"I- Just stay the night. It doesn't have to be weird. We know what we're doing."
He feels her head turn against his head and knows that she's looking at him with those same endearing eyes. "Okay," she whispers into the air.
"Besides, we haven't talked." Lewis murmurs, and Clem smiles. "Can't break the ritual. You remember when I asked you where you would be if you weren't you, and you said Montana?"
Clem hums in agreement. "Yeah, what about it?"
"Think we should go one day, you and me. See those animals; climb that mountain."
Clem wills back the tears burning behind her eyes. That conversation occurred two months into their arrangement, and two and a half years later, here he was, bringing up small details to a dream she'd told him about briefly. 
"What?" Lewis murmurs, watching her grin.
"Nothing, just surprised you remembered that, is all."
"I remember everything you say to me, Clementine."
"I'd love to go to Montana with you," she whispers after a while. "It's the prettiest in spring." 
"Well, we'll go next spring then." Lewis declares.
Clem smiles against against his arm, placing a peck there. "Deal, if you're not sick of me by then, we'll climb that mountain in Montana."
Lewis turns back towards the celing hoping she can't tell that her simple actions had his face burning and had his blood rushing. 
"You know in eternal sunshine of the spotless mind when they're laying on the ice?"
"Yeah, Clem." Lewis chuckles. "We've watched it a million times."
"That's what it feels like laying here right now with you."
"Thank you." Lewis grins.
"Her hair was blue." Clem points out. "Her hair changed colors to represent their relationship. Why do you think it was blue?"
"They were starting over. Maybe she was still down about erasing him."
"Huh," Clem sighs, "that's a good take." 
"Shower?"
"With you?" She wonders.
"If you're okay with that."
 "I just let you fuck me into oblivion. Why not let you clean me up."
Much cleaning hadn't gone down in the shower. 
clementine
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clementine the best week, the most perfect week.  
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lewishamilton Amazing movie 🙌🏽 such a deep message.
tchalamet And she's done it again people.
badgalriri Such a beautiful film, queen. ❤️
pharell, You're a literal artistic genius; I look forward to working with you in the future.
user Clemmy + Timmy. The duo we didn't know we needed.
-
As Lewis saunters around the hotel room quietly the next morning, he keeps a cautious eye on the girl in his bed. He trips over his discarded shoe as he focuses on not waking her up. He mentally facepalms himself as she begins to stir.
Clem sits up, dazed and groggy; she clutches the sheets to her chest as she peers at Lewis, who looks like a deer caught in headlights. 
"Good morning," he winces, "Sorry, I was packing my suitcase back up, didn't mean to wake you."
"It's fine," she rasps, reaching over to grab her phone and checking the time. When she sees that it's seven in the morning, she internally groans but slides her legs off the side of the bed to get ready to pack herself up.
"Woah, hey-" Lewis is by her side in an instant. "Where you going, love?"
Clem pauses, still half asleep she examines him through puffy eyes. "Your flight is at 8:30, right? You're about to head out."
Lewis nods but lifts her legs back onto the bed. "Yeah, but checkout is not until twelve." 
When he realizes that she is still glancing at him in confusion, he sits on the bed beside her. "You can stay here, Clem; get some rest before you get on the road. I'll leave the room key with you. Just let them know you're checking out for the king suite."
He laughs as she furrows her brows. "Don't make it weird." he reiterates from last night. 
She lets her head fall back against the pillows, more than happy to return to her slumber.
"How long are you going to be in Monaco?"
"About a week." 
Clem tried not to think too deeply about his big palm spread over her thigh, his thumb caressing it so tenderly.
"Oh." She mutters, "and then Canada?"
Lewis chuckles, his hand coming up to hold her jaw tenderly, his thumb caressing her cheek. "Look at you," he chuckles, "got my schedule memorized, huh?"
Clem feels the familiar burning in her face as she suppresses her shy smile. "Oh, please." she scoffs. "We've been at this for two years. Of course, I remember the times you begged me to hop on your plane and fly to you so that you could get your rocks off."
Lewis smirks, "Look at that, caught a flight to you this time." And he's bending down and smearing his mouth against hers. He dominates the kiss, his large hand on her jaw keeping her in place for him to use her mouth as he pleases. "Mhmm." he groans pulling away. 
"Wanna stay with you here all day, Clem. But I've got a flight to catch." 
He is standing and bending over to press one last unexpected peck to her mouth and then her temple before he is at the end of the bed and latching onto his suitcase. 
"The keys on the table, okay? Go back to sleep, and order yourself some food for me when you wake up. And text me, okay?"
Clem sits up, still mind-boggled from the kiss, and nods her head. 
Lewis smiles, sending her a wave and easing out of the door.
Clementine nearly screams as the door clicks shut, and she hears his footsteps getting farther away.
Casually kissing wasn't a thing between them. Lewis was sweet, yes, but not once has he sat and caressed her and spoken so softly to her. She had never spent the night with him or fell asleep in his arms. And here he was, flipping her entire world upside down and telling her not to make it weird.
It's what she repeats to herself over and over throughout the day as the tender moments with Lewis replay in her head. 
He was just being a friend, of course he would show up to support her, right? Of course he wouldn't want her to be on the road late at night or extra early in the morning? And they've kissed before, only during sex but maybe he was wound up in the moment, they were friends with added benefits, did those benefits now include impromptu kisses?
She groans as she checks out from his room and hobbles into the waiting SUV where her assistant waits with her packed bags. "You had a time last night." SK teases as he takes in his boss' disheveled appearance. 
"Shut up." Clem grunts, buckling herself in. 
SK raises his hands in surrender and then gets back to typing away on his phone. Clem lets her forehead drop against the window as she drives through the beautiful French city. 
"Hey, SK?" When he lets out a noise to signal he's listening, she asks him for a favor. "If I asked you to find something for me and get it sent to Monaco, do you think you could get it there before the end of the week?"
SK smacks his teeth, "Girl, please, do you know who you're talking to? I could have it there tomorrow."
"You're the best, SK." she smiles.
"Don't I know it. What is it you need me to get my hands on."
-
Sure enough, the next morning, Lewis is interrupted by a knock on his door as he clips on his jewelry. 
He saunters over to the door his pants hung low and shirtless, swinging open the door to reveal the butler that the hotel provided. When his eyes travel south he see's the luxurious gift box in his hands.
"For you, Sir Hamilton. Delivered early today, pre-approved by your assistant."
Lewis thanks the man, motioning for him to hold still for a second as he rushes to retrieve some hefty bills from his wallet. 
He pulls the box from his outstretched hand and replaces it with the bills.
When Lewis closes the door and saunters over to the couch, he plops down and sets the box on the coffee table.
He pulls the stock card from underneath the black ribbon and smiles as he reads over it.
thank you for showing up for me, and congrats on yet another win.
- 🍊
He smiles and taps the card against the box a few times before deciding to open it. He lets out a surprised squawk as he lifts the lid and sees a packaged vintage Big Homer super buggy.
Lewis covers his mouth with his hands stuck between letting out a scream that would resemble a child on christmas day or a cry.
Clementine Russell, he thinks, the woman you are.
He pulls out his phone, snaps a picture of the gift, and sends it to her.
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ovaryacted · 2 days
Note
i feel like Leon also would be a bit dominant in bed, since he doesn’t really have much control over his life, that would be the one aspect he can control
Oh yeah absolutely. This is actually one of my favorite things to think about when it comes to Leon in particular, how his current place in life dictates how he acts in the bedroom.
I've said this like a hundred times but if Leon is more dominant, he's a soft pleasure dom if anything. He lives to please, to serve, and that may sound like he still lacks control, but in this sense giving his partner pleasure would satisfy his personal needs of being able to do something other than bring pain.
I also think his dominance would pop out in certain instances because he would hold himself back unintentionally. It's not that he doesn't have the capacity of being dominant, it's the how that really gets him thinking. He doesn't want to cause harm unless it's asked for, and I'm going to assume a man like him probably has the ability to seriously hurt someone as we've seen. He's trained to kill people, he's an actual government trained hitman, and people don't realize it but that's what he is.
In the earlier stages of his life, I don't see him as having any dominant qualities only because he lacks the experience. I'm not saying this to ruin people's fantasies, but he just gives soft pretty boy vibes that needs reasurance. He doesn't give me the vibes of "#realfucker" yet you know?
Now in RE4R and beyond, I definitey see the dominance coming through but it won't be something that happens right away, nor will it be intense the first go-around despite the fact that Leon can be an intense guy. I think the dominance goes more in hand with how comfortable he feels with himself and his strength, and feeling safe in taking control and being selfish with his pleasure.
It would probably be best reflected in being commanding and praising in the bedroom and being vocal, wanting to hear his partner's approval to what he does so he can get a read on the situation, on what is good and what he has to tweak. It's little things like:
"Eyes on me"
"You can take it"
"Keep your hands above your head"
"That's it, doing so good for me"
Not to mention his touch would be more intentional, harsher in the sense of not being scared to grip too hard. He'd knead the skin, kiss deeper, and if it were really up to him, he would leave faint marks all over someone's body to be found the next morning. The things that he would do are done in an act of poessession, where he wants to own something even if it's just for one night, and that's both owning the ability to dictate what happens in the bedroom, and to be with someone that cares enough to let him explore.
On the plus side, whenever Leon is a bit more dominant, I think he cranks up the aftercare higher for the session. Depending on how harsh he is, and trust me he can be and it gets worse as he gets older, the need of reassurance after moments like that will be in higher demand.
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suiana · 2 days
Note
lol am I allowed to ask for yan!fwb? or have you already done that? like darling isn't looking for something serious, just casual, but yan!fwb is already planning their marriage when they get darling inside their sheets
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(yandere! fwb x gn! reader) (silly😜) (dom reader)
"can we just fuck why do we have to go out for dinner?"
"because... because it's for the plot?"
you stare at the male, deadpanning at him as you roll your eyes at his stupid answer. what plot? you two were just friends with benefits, why'd he need to bring you out to some fancy ass restaurant to eat?
and he even made you dress up?? what the hell?
don't friends with benefits just fuck and get it over with? that's the whole point isn't it? why's he treating you like you're his lover?
"dude this feels like a date."
"i- it's not!"
the male stutters, cheeks pink as he nervously offers his hand to you to escort you into the restaurant. you stare at it before slapping the hand away and walking in. geez, did he seriously think you were about to act like his lover? no way!
the male pouts, cheeks flushed as he quietly trails behind you like a little puppy. aw... his hand really felt lonely and he thought yours might be too ☹️ no matter, you'll be fucking him tonight anyways...
"ahem-"
the male clears his throat as he anxiously fiddles with his phone, walking up to the main desk. you watch in slight amusement as the receptionist and waiters immediately gush over him, carefully bringing the two of you to what seemed like a private room? woah, you knew he was rich but you didn't know it was like this rich.
"a-ah... you can order anything you want... I'll pay."
"thanks."
you mumble boredly, flipping through the expensive menu that you'd never have touched if it weren't for him. dawg maybe you'd let him dominate you for once... as a way of saying thanks.
...
nah. actually you think he'll break down in tears if you told him to dominate you. he's such a crybaby.
"hey-"
"yes my love?!"
the male exclaims, hearts in his eyes as you stare at him with the most disgusted look you can conjure. ugh, he's always like this! treating yoh like his lover, calling you petnames... is he delusional or what?
"firstly, don't call me that. secondly, what do you recommend?"
"o-oh... hm, i recommend the A5 wagyu and the caviar-"
you blink in confusion, brain not processing any of his words. god damnit, why was rich people food so confusing?! all these fancy names for a tiny plate of food?!
"you know what, forget it."
you mumble as you slam the menu shut. the male jumps slightly, whimpering as his lower lip pouts. aw, it's times like this where you can't help but think he's so freaking cute.
"ah... I'm sorry darling! w-we can go to another restaurant instead... oh i knew this place wouldn't be to your tastes and i-"
"i want you instead."
you cock your head at him, grinning as you make your way towards the flustered male. you drink in his delightful expressions, humming happily as your friend with benefits turns into a cute puddle of blabbering words.
yes...
you never were that hungry for food anyway.
and he would fulfill your hunger much more easily.
"hehe, you really are the cutest, aren't you?"
"oh darling!"
ah. guess it really is time to devour him. in more ways than one.
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weebsinstash · 1 day
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People keep asking me if I have any 'yandere Alastor vs. yandere Lucifer fighting over Reader' ideas, and I gotta say one of my favorite ones is uh
Ok so I just am trying to kick myself in the ass to write this in of itself, but, I really like the idea of Alastor just straight up tricking you into giving him your soul. "Oh what if Reader takes a deal from him" no what if he makes a deal for your soul and you don't even fucking realize what you're doing and it's completely unintentional. I'm talking, my specific idea, is that after a prolonged series of events where you both gain and then lose Alastor's respect, he then approaches you when you're just like DRUNK DRUNK and, you're being all social and slurring and honestly he's embarrassed for you but at least you're talking to him, and, he sets his trap: making it seem like just an innocent little game, Alastor suggests you two have some kind of drinking game, and the winner can take ANY ONE THING from the other, and he's even all "oh, you don't even have to bother yourself with thinking about it! I could simply JUST TAKE IT and not even inform you, so then you wouldn't even have to worry yourself about whatever it is I decided to... acquire for myself :)"
And here's your drunken delusionally confident ass, thinking YOU'RE gonna pull one over on HIM, YOU trick ALASTOR "oh haha there's definitely nothing I have he wants lol, what would he do, take my cellphone or some of my shitty clothes or collectibles, lmao, I'm gonna win and I'm gonna ask him for some sort of special power or cool thing or gossip, this is low stakes high reward for sure"
Cue you like IMMEDIATELY losing his challenge, and even then, you're all smiles and laughs, "aww, I thought I had you there! So what are you taking?" And he just "Ohhhh, nothing :) actually I... even already took it from you!" And he starts LAUGHING laughing and you're just like "oh, you bastard, you got me! >u< more drinks, yay!"
I like the idea that Reader wakes up the next morning STILL in compete ignorance but uh, eventually you find out exactly how terrifying having someone else own your soul is when Alastor gives you some sort of command of something you REALLY do not want to do and you can't even control your own body to stop yourself from doing it anyways. Just the... violations of privacy, the loss of autonomy. He can force every thought and secret out of your mouth, your head, and move your body to the best of its abilities, and also just, PLUCK you to his location at will
So. Lucifer finds you just absolutely BROKEN in bed, like emotionally devastated, you are as close to suicidal as you can be for someone who cannot die, and, maybe you've even self-harmed. And after some gentle prodding from the Devil, you reveal what Alastor did, but, even more than that, how it made you FEEL. Alastor had approached you as some kind of friend, then started to want to exert some kind of ... control over you, commenting on your lifestyle choices, wanting you to do things with him in HIS way, and then when you resisted, he acted like you were a disappointment, even stopped spending time with you, and THEN, after you thought he was done with you, TRICKS YOU into giving him YOUR SOUL. It's just completely destroyed your psyche. It's reinforced horrible things you've thought about yourself your entire life. It made you feel alone, and now, you don't even have your soul anymore
So naturally Lucifer is like, "That's horrible! I'm so sorry he hurt you like that, I won't let him do this!" AND JUST FUCKING UNDOES IT. Contract WHAT? Radio Demon WHO? this is HELL and Lucifer is, you know, THE DEVIL FROM UH, THE BIBLE, and he's just snapping his fingers and you FEEL your soul come back to you and now you're breaking down crying for entirely different reasons while Lucifer holds you
MEANWHILE ALASTOR, who is fucking off elsewhere, may or may not be lovingly gazing at whatever form your soul is taking within his grasp, HAS IT RIPPED AWAY FROM HIM AND STARTS LOSING HIS MIND. Some "Wait, what just happened? Ffffuck." shit for real, he's, abruptly jerking out of his chair so hard it's sliding across the floor and he's racing back to the Hotel. Charlie stands up for him and shouts down her father that he has no right to ask the Radio Demon to leave, but, Charlie "attempts" to give Alastor "a stern talking to" about how "friends don't take other friend's souls, taking other people's souls is not how we get into Heaven" which, of course, falls on deaf ears, but Charlie isn't the Morningstar Alastor is wanting to concern himself with
And of course, there's Lucifer, making sure he's standing close to you, maybe even between you and Alastor, standing in front of you protectively, MAYBE EVEN HOLDING YOUR HAND TO COMFORT YOU. Alastor just immediately putting two and two together what happened and all but grinding his teeth into dust. Not only has Lucifer interfered and taken something IRREPLACEABLE from him(which was something he took from YOU lol), but, Lucifer has driven a wedge between you ans the Radio Demon. Alastor is watching you regard him with nothing but anger and sadness and fear while clinging to the tiny fallen angel and just, ohhhh, if looks could kill, the staredown these two are having with each other over you...
You've got one yandere who had your soul within his hands and had it taken back before he even got to enjoy having it, didn't get to DO anything with it, and another yandere who, quite understandably, feels that it isn't safe to let you leave from under his protective wing, and BOTH of them are convinced you have to be protected from the other while ALSO being super powerful
You know, the perfect combination of dangerous abilities and dangerous minds :) obviously our favorite Appletini is the more powerful one, but I think our Bambi could give him a good run for his money through sheer trickery alone. If you thought it was annoying getting pulled into antagonistic musicals BEFORE--
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sanguineterrain · 2 days
Note
Hey! Can I request a Clark x reader where they're dating but reader doesn't know Clark is superman. And then superman interacts with them for whatever reason and is flirty bc that's his person!!! But reader is like ☝️ hey buddy back off. I'm HAPPILY taken
this is such a cute request!!!! Argh!!!!
clark kent/superman x gn!reader. fluff, brief danger but r is okay. superman flirting with you but he's dating you? he's just a goober. i lub him <3 PLEASE feel free to imagine maws!clark. I feel like this is very himcore 🥰
****
Being a florist in Metropolis is good work. Lots of people still buy flowers, which is great. Many actually buy bouquets for Superman and leave them on display as support. Poppies, yellow tulips, and cornflowers. They're one of your favorite arrangements.
The downside to being a florist in Metropolis, however, is that on occasion, your flower display ends up the target of a killer robot.
You're not sure why that is. Mostly, you wish people would stop building killer robots.
You've gone outside to see what the commotion is about when you're grabbed by a metal claw. It squeezes hard, almost cutting off your air. You squirm in terror as the robot stomps down Main Street, crushing cars and asphalt in its wake.
"Help!" you scream when you catch your breath, and the robot squeezes you harder.
A dizzying blur of red, yellow, and blue zips past you. You think of your flowers.
The blur cuts through the metal like nothing. The robot begins to collapse, twitching and groaning. Its metal creaks, grip loosening on your body.
You hardly fall before Superman is there, cradling you to his chest.
"I've got you," he says, tucking you close.
You look up at him, and he beams at you, like saving you from a killer robot has been the best part of his day.
Come to think of it, Superman came to your aid surprisingly fast, even for him.
And he holds you... intimately. Like you've known him for years. Your heart picks up.
"Uh," he says, cheeks flushed. "Are–are you okay?"
You smile politely, arms around his neck. "Yes, I'm fine. Thank you, Superman."
He nods, flying down the street. "Good. I'll get you back to your shop and clean up the flowers."
You tilt your head. "How do you know I'm a florist?"
Superman looks at you, blue eyes wide.
"Oh! I... uh, I've seen your arrangements all over the city. They're beautiful. I'd never forget that they belong to an equally beautiful face."
Goodness. If Superman is this forward with everyone he rescues, it's no wonder your flower arrangements are in high demand.
"I'm flattered," you begin, and Superman once again aims that grin with the power of a thousand suns at you. "But, respectfully, I'm very happily taken, so I would appreciate it if you'd keep this rescue professional."
Superman raises an eyebrow. To your surprise, he smiles wider.
"Oh, I'm sorry," he says. "I didn't realize you were taken. My sincerest apologies. I hope I didn't make you uncomfortable."
"No, it's alright. I'm honored, but you couldn't pull me away from my boyfriend even with your super strength."
Superman's cheeks turn pinker. He sets you down in front of your store with the utmost care, not letting go until you have your bearings. He takes a step back, rubbing his neck. The gesture makes your brain itch. You don't know why.
"Well, uh, he must've done something right if he's lucky enough to be with you."
"Luck has nothing to do with it," you say fiercely. You don't know why you're so indignant about defending Clark's reputation to Superman. It's not like Clark will ever hear about it.
"No?"
"Not at all. He's an incredible person, kind and smart and loving, and if anyone's lucky, it's me."
Superman makes an aborted gesture to take your hand, then redirects and awkwardly pats your arm instead. You squint at him. He quickly moves away.
"Ah. Sorry. Well, I doubt that. I bet you're equally spectacular."
"Oh. Thank you."
You primly take his hand and give it a good shake. Superman bows his head and laughs.
He takes a step back, eyes bright like you've just made his day.
"Well, I wish you the best with your boyfriend. I'm sorry for being so forward. I've seen your Superman bouquets; your reputation precedes you. I make it a point to know reputed people in Metropolis."
"I can't imagine I'm very high on that list," you say.
"Ah, you'd be surprised. Besides, I never forget a face."
Superman darts behind you and moves at neckbreaking speed to clean up your partially maimed flowers. In three seconds, it's returned to its former glory.
"Well, uh, I'll be seeing you," Superman says, hands clasped behind his back. "I mean, I hope not in a circumstance like this! Th-then again, when else would we see each other? Scratch that, I hope there's no reason for us to cross paths because that would mean you're in danger. Uh, but I don't mean that in a bad way! I just—"
You snort and reach over to take a yellow tulip from your display. You give it to Superman, who takes it like you've just handed him a newborn baby.
"I'm still taken," you say. "But you're very sweet, Superman. Take care, alright?"
"Yeah," he says, tucking the tulip into the strap of his cape. "Yes, you too. Goodbye!"
He soars away, the tulip like a star on his cape.
Superman is handsome and kind, no doubt. But he's certainly no Clark Kent.
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cupidhoons · 17 hours
Text
you are the only exception ⟡ ksn
syn you hate everyone — everyone except him
genre & warnings non idol! au, popular(ish)! sunoo, grumpy reader x sunshine sunoo, pure fluff, s2f2l, lmk if there's more back2navi
NOTE HURRAY A SUNOO FIC!! i love my baby TO DEATH kim sunoo ily i wish U were Real 🙁🙁 this is also for @ashtxrie my fav sunoo stan 😇 also happy 200 posts to me :)!! thank you all for the love 🫶
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you hated school. you hated walking there every morning and you hated those teenage boys who are way too loud about their business. you hated the girls who would go up to you and tease you about how lonely you are. you hated every single aspect of your current life.
except for kim sunoo.
sunoo was the only person in your school to ever go up to you with clear intentions of being your friend. you remember him coming into the school and almost immediately became one of the popular kids. he was a ray of sunshine — your ray of sunshine.
he came up to you with the brightest smile anyone could ever have. you swore you fell in love right then and there — i mean, who wouldn't?
"hello! i'm sunoo, what's your name?!" he beams brightly. you were slightly taken aback by his actions, of course. no one ever came up to you unless they wanted to make a backhanded compliment towards you.
"um...hi?" you say hesitantly. it hasn't even been a full week since he's been here — did he already hear stuff about you?
he looks at you expectantly. with his bright eyes looking into yours, it was hard to focus on what he had just said to you. you hear him clear his throat and you snap back into reality.
"sorry...um...i'm y/n. it's nice to meet you, sunoo." you say in a monotoned voice. you expect him stop smiling and walk away — similar to how everyone else does — but to your surprise he doesn't.
from that day on he never left you alone. you didn't mind as it was nice to have someone around you. you eventually got closer and you slowly let your guard down. he was the first person to ever see you smile and laugh.
"oh my god! y/n, did you just laugh at my joke!?" he says in disbelief. you never usually laugh at his jokes — as they were incredibly corny — but today, you couldn't help it. not only was it actually funny, but it was also a sign that you were getting comfortable with him.
you giggle at his reaction as you nod. "i'm afraid i did. i didn't know you were capable of being funny!" he lets out a dramatic gasp which makes you smile even wider.
"and i didn't know you were capable of even smiling!"
"well, that makes the two of us."
since then your friendship has bloomed into more romantic terms. you realized that it was getting harder to focus on your schoolwork, which by the way, was unlike you. not only that, but you also had insane amount of butterflies whenever you talked to him.
so, one thing led to another. it got to a point where you couldn't keep in your feelings anymore and you ended up accidentally confessing. you worried that he was going to leave you — but he didn't.
"yah! why do you look like you're about to cry?! didn't you hear me?! i like you too, stupid!" he lightly pushes your shoulder in a teasing way then pouts. "you know i hate seeing you cry! and as your boyfriend, i can't let you cry!"
he pulls you closer to him and cups your face. you look at him surprised.
"i told you once that i'll never leave you. so don't worry, okay? i'm not going anywhere, nor do i plan to." and before you could say anything — he puts his soft lips on yours.
he stays true to his promise today. as you lay in bed with your now boyfriend, admiring his features as he sleeps. the sun seeping through the window as you snuggle closer to him — he was the only exception, and you didn't plan on changing that.
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permanent taglist (open — send an ask to be added) ; @kyoaeri @copyhanni @flwrstqr @dioll @wonifullove
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somegrumpynerd · 18 hours
Note
I think that nightmare living with his boys after the truce(actually even before that) is literally hearing a clink and him yelling "KILLER, DUST, GET OUT OF THE KITCHEN AND STOP FIGHTING"
(I don't know if I worded that right so I'm sorry if you can't understand-)
Oh absolutely!! When Nightmare hears rummaging around in any room he has to go check, because usually it's just Horror preparing food or one of them doing something, but there's always a chance he's about to break up a fight
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What I like to imagine is how long after an agreed truce (and assuming Dream comes to visit now and then) does Dream feel confident enough to break up the fights
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(He's very good at it, as it turns out)
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theminecraftbee · 2 days
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okay you saying Three and Grian would clash makes me wanna see a multi-dimensional smash up where they meet
I MEAN SAME, one of my most self-indulgent desires is this, and i'm trying to remember if i've talked about this before on the blog or just rambled to my friends about it, lol. because it would be INTERESTING. there would be a lot of emotions going on there, it'd be messy!
because like, okay. so on grian's end: three is very clearly the bad ending, to him. this is the ending where the watchers erase grian and leave behind a strange little weapon who does stuff like "starts following orders when stressed", which is like, in grian's mind, the opposite of grian's behavior. and yeah, sure, three insists it isn't grian, but that doesn't make that not fucked up to grian, and probably also like... i don't know how good grian would be at seeing past that, you know? (bonus points if this grian is, himself, a standard "grian is a watcher who left" construction, because, you know, woof.)
but meanwhile, three like, has known identity hangups about grian. three would already be in a frustrated state of "i am NOT grian though" like, from the jump. but three would ALSO be forced to look at the version of the world where grian stuck around. and in some ways, three would look at that and see all the things its existence prevents, which would suck! but it would ALSO be a scenario where... so the thing is, the only version of grian that three knows is the posthumous version. the version that got lionized in death. this idealized image of the man. and i feel like three would see grian and find him... disappointing, in comparison, because ANYONE would be! but that'll also sure be a Thing.
(additional bonus points: grumbot. things that are DEFINITELY on the list of "things three didn't do in its own timeline and if mumbo did three treated wildly differently", and also on the list of "so do you think the human weapon with identity issues might identify with that robot or what" and also given that the rift remains one of the easiest crossover excuses on hermitcraft, oh man, oh boy. anyway.)
how would this end? I DON'T KNOW. i haven't managed to actually WRITE this self-indulgent thing although i have looked at all my friends with wide sad eyes about it in case any of them do, lol. but rest assured I HAVE THOUGHT ABOUT THIS GREATLY.
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xzhdjsj · 1 day
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By Your Side
Isaac x Reader
Isaac comforts you
Reader is on their period and is frustrated with work.
Anyone ever had cramps so damn bad it made you throw up? Cuz that was me last week and istg i was gonna die
Also this was supposed to be entirely fluff but idk what happened and now we have this😭 It all works out in the end though!
✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧
It's been a day since then, and as you’d expected you feel no better. It'd take a miracle for that to happen anyways. Periods are horrible, it makes your mood sour and your body ache. Not to mention it's annoying and a hindrance to your work. That doesn't mean that Isaac lacks understanding and thinks it a hindrance too, quite the opposite actually. Isaac insists you don't lift a finger if you're not feeling well, and if you do, he's always close to keep an eye on you.
And there it is again, that discomfort in your lower abdomen and back, a tell-tale sign that your period was on its merry way to ruin your week. With a hand across your stomach, you quickly tapped your phone, checking the date. Who knew a month of cramp-free frolicking would be over that quickly. You mentally curse yourself for not keeping track again and head off to the bathroom.
Though, that doesn't always translate well in your mind.
You sat opposite him in his office, hovering over a document you've read at least 10 times but still can't seem to grasp. Each time you feel like you understood, you realise your mind had wondered off in the middle of it or you got distracted by the throbbing pain in your lower abdomen.
Isaac's gaze would find you every minute or so. He'd flip a page, then look up. Or he'd type a sentence and glace at you before continuing. It was his little system of ensuring you weren't struggling.
This time his eyes find you in a frantic state. You let out a deep sigh, flipping the page over to start reading from the top all over again. The frustration was evident, knitted in your eyebrows and the frown on your face. Your eyes were unfocused, and you kept shifting your body every few minutes.
"Are you okay?" Isaac broke the silence.
"What?" You look up at him confused by his sudden question, and a little annoyed your focus was once again broken.
"I asked if you were okay."
You rubbed the side of your neck and sigh.
"Oh, yeah. I'm fine." You dismiss him, returning to the words on the page in front of you. Adamant to get it right this time.
"Are you really? You look a tired Pickle." His voice knocks your focus again.
"I'm fine Isaac." You tell him again. this time sternly.
"Are you sur-"
Your fingers massage the bridge of your nose, and your patience runs thin.
"God Isaac, I said I'm fine! I'm perfectly capable of working right now! It's literally just a period, I'm not bed ridden or something!" The words pour from your lips before you could think them through and instantly, you regret it.
"Right, I'm sorry dear. I was just worried." He's a little surprised, had you looked at him while speaking you'd see the way his eyes reflected it.
To be honest, you’re a little surprised at yourself too, but all you could think of right now was how the FUCK do you respond to that? You open your mouth to say something, anything really, but when you finally looked over at him, he's already shifted his focus to the screen in front of him. There isn't a single thing you could think of to say to him anyways.
You bend your head again, looking at the page you deemed so important earlier. Now it was just insignificant, and part of the reason for your outburst.
'How foolish' you thought to yourself, getting upset at him for showing concern over a matter he had little experience with. And despite his inexperience, he was only trying to help. It wasn't like you got any work done in the 30? 45 minutes? an hour? you were sat here. That only meant that he was right, you were clearly having a difficult time and he was observant enough to had noticed it.
The regret crashes into your chest like a tsunami. You wondered how he was feeling right now. You were considerably rude, surely that would hurt him. What if that gave him the impression that he was annoying? Because he most certainly was not! What have you done?
The thoughts swirled around your head like a brewing storm, threatening to explode at any moment. It didn't help that various parts of your body were still in pain and the only sound in the room was papers being shuffled and the clicking sounds of his keyboard. The pain gnawed at your flesh and the silence burgeoned your thoughts. There’s a lump in your throat and you’re not quite sure if you need to throw up from the pain or cry your eyes out. It was only when a single teardrop dripped onto the page below you that you realised you didn't want to be in the room anymore. You swiftly lifted your body from the chair and Isaac looked over at you right away. You couldn't return the notion; the bubbling pot of shame and regret wouldn’t let you.
"I uh,” your voice cracked and you're still unsure of what to say. "Excuse me."
You quickly push past the desk, rushing out the door. You were able to hold yourself together in front of him, but once outside, your emotions came tumbling over. The tears flowed freely down your cheeks, and you ran up the stairs to your room.
You threw yourself onto the sheets, your face buried into a pillow as your body folded into itself like an armadillo. It hurts so much. Your body, your mind, it all hurts. You sobbed into the pillow, squeezing it tightly against your chest for what felt like an eternity.
Eventually, there was a gentle knock on the door, then a soft call of your name as the door slowly swung open. You didn't hesitate, discarding the pillow quickly to sit up and voice your scrabbled thoughts.
"Isaac I'm so sorry! I- I didn't mean to yell at you- I know you were just concerned and I should’ve listened to you when you said I could rest for today-"
He takes big steps towards the bed, immediately taking you in his arms.
"Shhhhh, calm down my love. It's okay."
You're gripping onto his shirt for dear life, sobbing into his chest but he doesn't care, he pulls you even closer engulfing you fully into his body. His arms were secure and protective around you as he whispered sweet nothings into your hair. His voice is so gentle and soothing, and when combined with his hand caressing up and down your back, your choked sobs were simmered down to deep breathing in no time.
"Are you feeling better?" He asks and you nod.
"I'm sorry I was so rude to you." You were barely able to murmur.
"Are you still worried about that? I won't lie, I was taken by surprise but only because this has never happened to me before. I know you aren't feeling your best today, so I understand why it happened." He explained, leaning down to place a tender kiss on your forehead. "Now, are you in any pain?"
You sigh, "Yeah, I think my cramps are extra bad this time."
"Do you want me to get you something to eat? Maybe I could make you some tea and I'll get you some painkillers."
"No!" You suddenly move and the pain stabs you sharply in your side. "Ah shit!"
"Careful, Pickle" Isaac helps you, guiding your body down onto the bed. "I'll go get you those pills, hold on for me okay?"
"Isaac, can't you just stay? Please?"
"I'll be back before you know it, just stay here for a couple minutes. You’re very strong, I’m sure you can handle just that right?"
He disappears out the door, but as promised, returns after a few minutes.
"This is all I could find." He presented a single pill to you with a glass of water. "I'll need to make sure we get some more and find other alternatives to help you. I've read that heating pads are very common, so I ordered you one."
You take the pill from his hand, washing it down with some water.
"When did you do all that?"
"Just now, before I came up here."
"So, I yelled at you and you were researching and ordering a heating pad for me? Now, I feel even more awful!" You body falls back down onto the bed.
"Don't. It happens to the best of us, I'm well aware frustration isn't easy to handle." He casually spoke while getting into bed next to you. He reached for the blanket while you nuzzled closer to him, pulling it over your bodies.
“Am I disturbing your work?” You ask.
“No, it can wait.” He was quick to dismiss the idea of work. “I was thinking, what should I make you for dinner?”
He rubs circles in your back, from top to bottom. The warmth from his hands and the effects on the painkillers relaxed your body and made your eyelids heavy.
“You’re gonna cook for me?” You yawn.
“What? Is my cooking not good?” He teased playfully.
You giggle at his response. “Hmm of course not, I love your food. But I don’t know, hmmm how about mashed potatoes?”
“Just mashed potatoes?”
“Yeah, that’s all I want.”
“Sounds easy enough.” He kisses the top of your head. “You should get some rest now.”
“You’ll stay with me, right?” You yawn again.
“Of course my love, and when you open your eyes again, I promise I’ll still be here.”
His gentle hand against your back, and comforting scent made your body heavy and lulled you to sleep in no time. You dreamt of him, and when you woke up again, he was still there with you, eyes closed and mellow breathing as he slept.
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yesimwriting · 3 days
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we need more felix and lovie content i miss themmm
i miss them too,, i have so many drafts and half finished fics with them but i've had so little energy/time to actually finish any of them bc of finals
but i'm pretty caught up with school rn (by tuesday i'll be on summer break!!) so here's a bit of an i'm-sorry-for-being-absent drabble :)
The nail of your thumb drags against the edge of the page, finally getting the glue to fully adhere to the page.
You press your back against the wood surface of your desk chair to admire your handiwork. The background of your latest scrapbook page has come together just the way you wanted it to. You pick up the book carefully before turning your body.
"Lex," you beam.
Felix doesn't sit up fully, but he does lift his head. The arm holding up his copy of the latest Harry Potter relaxing. "Oh," he mumbles it in that way that reminds you of one of the things you like best about him. He has this talent for giving attention. Where other people would just be polite without a second thought, Felix takes the time to really look before commending.
He pushes himself up in a way that awkwardly squishes your pillow. "That's good." Felix straightens, legs crossing beneath him. "That's really good, Lovie." His thumb tucks itself between the pages of his book, a make shift bookmark. "The edges, the paper..."
"Thank you." Another thing you love about Felix is the fact that you can always tell he means his praise. You turn forward, setting your scrapbook back onto your desk. "You should make one."
The corner of his mouth pulls itself into a version of a smile that's so soft you almost miss it. "Yeah?" You nod. Felix's smile shifts into something more assured. "Maybe tomorrow night."
You try to picture Felix spending a Saturday night in either your room or his, cutting up scraps of paper and gluing them down instead of at a bar or some party. The thought makes your feel warm in that way that's so exclusively Felix. It also feels blurry, intangible in its unlikeliness.
As happy as it'd make you, tonight was already surprising enough. It's not like Felix goes out every night, and this isn't the first time the two of you have stayed in on a Friday, but nights like these are rare. You can't picture two of these in a row.
"Tomorrow?" You pull your legs out from under your desk, entire body angling itself to the side so that it's easier to look at him. "Tomorrow's Saturday."
He lets out a partial laugh. "And you're dying for a rager?"
"No," you mumble, dragging out the vowel sound in an attempt to sound more sarcastic. "But you like going out." You lean forward, resting your chin against the chair's back. "And it's not like I hate going out, especially with you..." You trail off, eyes shifting away from Felix and towards the bed post closest to you. "And I don't want to be the reason you don't do things you like."
For a beat, the only sound is the low, rhythmic tapping of Felix's pointer finger against the spine of his book. "I like a lot of things."
You lift your head. "I know."
"I like doing things with you."
The warmth comes back with a vengeance. You tap your thumb against the side of your seat for the sake of doing something. "Me too."
Felix shifts, extending one leg to make himself more comfortable. "Good." He's so quiet for a second, you almost think that might be the end of the conversation. You're about to go back to picking out the pictures to finish off the page you'd been working on when he starts again, "So you don't need to worry about me resenting you."
Your eyes narrow. "I didn't say anything about you resenting me." Your chin lifts slightly, an attempt at displaying your indignation. "Why are you saying it like that was an option?"
He grins, dropping himself back onto your pillow. "No reason."
You roll your eyes at his sarcasm. He's the one that came over to your room without being asked to. "Sure."
"What?" His tone implies nothing but perfect innocence. He picks up his book, opening it as if he's done nothing wrong. "Y'should come over here before the resentment sets in and I lose all interest."
You let out a loud sigh, but move to stand regardless. "Yeah, that feels like a real possibility."
When you don't move, Felix glances away from his book. "You're not gonna come over here?" He looks up at you, a hint of a pout playing at his expression. "I was kidding."
You cross your arms, fighting against a smile. "I just stood up." That's not enough to convince him to stop looking at you like that. You take a few steps forward with a sigh that's more out of habit than anything else. "You are so dramatic."
You sit on your bed, crossing your legs beneath you. Felix shifts onto his side. His freehand finds your knee. "You cried because of this book."
Eyes narrowing, you lean forward to get a better sense of how far into the book he's gotten. "Wait a few chapters."
Felix snaps his head in your direction, "Lovie. You said you wouldn't--" Your sentence runs into his, "I didn't--I didn't spoil it."
He frowns, watching you skeptically. "That was mean."
"You started it." You're aware that you sound like a little kid, but you can't help it. With a sigh, you give up, laying down. He's taking up most of your bed, but you're far from uncomfortable. "Fine. I'm sorry."
With little warning, Felix leans forward and presses a kiss against your temple. "Want me to read to you?"
You're used to Felix's random displays of affection, but every once in awhile something will take you by so much surprise you feel it more than you should. You blink. "Yeah," you mumble, hoping that your voice comes out even, "Sounds nice."
Felix shifts onto his back, one hand finding your arm and the other holding his book.
----
taglist; @vader-is-hot @spiritofbuddha @getosangie @freyafriggafrey @ilovehyperfixating @aryiannarae @willowpains @ker0senebunny @lilyrachelcassidy @khxna @imbabycowboy
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allllium · 3 days
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Heyaaa, I have a request! If it's not too much trouble, have you listened to too sweet by Hozier.. that song with the tf 141 boys (if it could be Ghost, it would be great!!)
Thanks in advance!!! And it's perfectly fine if you don't wanna!
~ I'm really sorry this took so long, I have not been feeling great but here it is. I hope you like this because honestly I am terrible at comprehending songs but I think this fits pretty well :)
~ If you're not happy with this for any reason please let me know and I will happily redo it with your advice <3
~ Fluff, WC: 1,189
You have a crush on Simon Riley. You know this, and so does everyone else, including him. Despite the very obvious adoration on your part he's never said anything about it.
You honestly have no idea how he feels about you and you're not sure you want to know. You do tons of little things for him and he does things for you, but that's all your relationship entails.
You are both so different it's not like you could ever fit together so perfectly, right?
I take my whiskey neat
“Here you are Lt.” You slide him a drink across the table. He makes a face behind his mask that you now recognize as his scowl. “Don't make that face at me.”
“You can't even see my face,” he replies, in his signature thick accent. “And I don't need you buying me drinks.”
“Well that's too bad 'cause’ I did. Don't tell me you're gonna let good whiskey go to waste.”
His deep brown eyes stare at you for a heavy moment before picking up the drink, lifting his mask just enough to show his cut jaw and full lips.
“Usually this is where I get a thank you.” You taunt him, trying not to let your gaze linger on what you can see of his perfect but slightly messed up face.
“Don't push your luck, Sargent.”
My coffee black…
“Oh dark like your soul, ain't that right Lt.” You gesture towards his black mug of black coffee.
Simon takes a deep breath as he takes in your words, his chest rising and falling in annoyance. He shakes his head silently, apparently not wanting to pleasure you with a response.
“Seriously, how do you drink that?” You put your hand on his perfect arm to push him out of the way of the coffee pot.
“Oh let me guess you take your coffee with a pound of sugar.” He rolls his eyes at you, in more of an attitude than you appreciate.
“Incorrect. I'm sweet enough as it is.” You smile at him while you turn around to stir your drink.
“Maybe a little too sweet don't you think?”
“Only to you.” You mutter under your breath.
…And my bed at three
“Oi Lt, what are you doing up at this hour?” You take amusement at the way this giant of a man jumps slightly at your voice.
“Did you just say oi?” He asks as if he didn't just hear you say it.
“Yes I did, do we need to get your hearing checked?” You make fun of him for the hundredth time that day.
“Why?” His gruff voice cuts through the air.
“I want it on record that I don't appreciate this attitude of yours. And I said "oi” because I'm becoming more like you.”
“I don't say oi.”
“I don't believe you. You sound like you say it.” You shrug and take a seat on the couch next to you.
“What does that mean?” He sits down next to you but he seems like he doesn't want a real answer.
“Your voice.”
“What's wrong with my voice?” This time it seems like he actually wants to know what you think.
“Oh nothing. It's a nice voice but it just gives me oi vibes.” He stares at you like you're crazy.
“I have a nice voice do I?”
“Don't let it get to your head.” You lay your head.on his shoulder.
No one speaks for a while but eventually Simon sits up. “It's three in the morning, we should get to bed.”
“Yeah that's probably smart.” You give him a big smile when you stand up. “Goodnight Lt.”
You're too sweet for me
“And here you are.” You take a dramatic bow as you hand Simon his gift, acting as if you just delivered the most important thing in the world.
“What is this?” He asks with a tone of impatientence.
“A gift.”
“It's not a holiday-” You quickly cut him off.
“Or your birthday I know, but I remember you saying something about it and got it for you”
“How do you know it's not my birthday, I've never told you that.” He pauses for a split second before continuing, “Did you look at my files?”
“That's not important, open your gift.” He shakes his head but opens the bag you've given him.
Quickly, he pulls out a mask just like the one he's currently wearing. A mask you've handmade just for him.
“What is this?” He instantly demands.
“That is what we call a mask sir. I remember you told me about that one having an annoying hole so I thought I'd help you out. Originally I was just gonna patch the hole but then I figured that mask has been through a lot so you deserved a new one.”
He loudly clears his throat. “I hope you know there won't be a gift in return.”
“I don't expect one, simply doing a nice thing.”
“Well thank you Sargent.” You smile at his thanks, feeling how much he means it.
“Anytime.” Is the only word you get in before he runs off.
You're too sweet for me
“You know this is basically our third date.” You randomly blurt out. You're sitting with Simon in a coffee shop off base. You don't know what you were expecting with Simon off base but one thing you never thought about when inviting him out is his absence of the mask.
Obviously wearing it would draw more attention than usual but now you're sitting straight across from the face of the man you're practically fawning over.
“This is not a date.” He defends roughly.
“Yes it is, our first was dinner and second was the bar so that makes this the third.”
“Those weren't dates, just outings between friends.” He runs his eyes everywhere but your face.
“Aww so you admit we're friends.” You can't help but tease. “But I'm being serious Simon. You can't deny it forever.”
“Yes I can.” He fiddles with his drink as you continue your mini interrogation.
“No you can't. I know you like me, Lt. Why won't you say it.”
“You're different.” He begins.
“If you start to say I'm dumb you're getting punched.”
“No! Of course not. You're different from me and I don't know if we would work.”
“Bullshit. Spill it.”
“Fine, you're too sweet.” He spits out as if it was fire coming out.
You can't help the bubbling laugh that spills out your mouth. “Too sweet? What does that even mean?” You ask him, still laughing.
“I don't know. You're too sweet to me, you give me things and you say all the right things and I don't think I could give all that back to you.”
‘I don't want you to give me anything back. I want you to give me you, you're too sweet for me too Lt. Even if it is in a different looking way.” You slide your hand across the table to lay on his. He returns your hold and gives you a smile that is uniquely his. This is all you need.
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jazeswhbhaven · 10 hours
Text
I was curious so I looked at the prologue (yah I know whatever side-eye me but anyway)
*spoilers ahead*
I'm going to talk about this in bullet points because this is more like a curiosity read instead of a "I'm going to invest in this" read.
Levi Childish Jealously Overall Thoughts:
First, now I get why they said "chlidren's day" It is because MC was talking about Minhyeok and them hanging out each children's day together and their fond memories of such
Also, Levi are you fucking srs why are you checking up on MC with a damn crystal ball as if your ass can't stand the fact that they're out smiling with the Gehenna besties like????
I clicked on the prologue and his ass was already mad and it made me laugh because see??? see what I mean by he's always mad about something? lmao
Also he made Foras go out and help him do the spying like? Ok
He made Foras feel bad about suggesting to go nerf Minhyeok if Levi wished it and this man is like "oh a sudden death that will make one miss the other forever" and he's referring to Solomon here and Foras was like "fuck" (HONESTLY Levi he only suggested that to make you feel better like don't do that .-.)
Learned some stuff about the devil named Seere, who can travel anywhere and through dreams too in a blink of an eye (reminds me of someone from another fandom...) and that's the one who produced the memory manipulation spell and it seems he just does this any way to cause mischief on Earth (so if anyone experiences deja vu blame him /j)
So the rules are, Levi can't alter things too much or it messes with each others minds or causes both of them or just Levi to wake up out of the dream if I'm getting that right
also Satan is about to get pissed the fuck off because they also got a sleeping spell/poition from Seere and everyone in the palace was asleep LMAO. The fact that he pretty much knocked everyone out so he could do what he wanted without pushback goodness.
NOW i'mma go over the dream events:
Minhyeok looked so ready and adorable in his uniform, confirmed this is high school Minhyeok and MC.
Minhyeok saw Levi just standing in his room and was like o______o the fuck? And Levi literally snapped his fingers and erased him.
Imagine the nightmare Minhyeok had as a teenager and was like "a demon fucking erased me from existence omfg" and his parents were like ???? and his brother was like "lol wut"
anyways moving forward, MC noticed the changes but didn't challenge them (Levi is hot wow gonna forget my friend ig /j)
Already this man is mad at MC for tripping and not tying their shoes...plz???
Also for whatever reason MC is very clumsy here, like everything reads to me like a Kdrama where every moment MC is falling, tripping, forgetting shit and Levi is getting annoyed and pissed off at every mistake and it's sending me because dude it is not that deep please relax
Cool Levi moments though is when he ties the shoes, blocks MC from getting hit by a volleyball, lends his gym clothes, gets a cream bun for MC, and takes MC to the nurse because they sprained their ankle
WTF Levi moments is....him basically glaring at the teacher who didn't challenge him, choking another fucking student for almost hitting MC with the volleyball, shoving students (actually I like that and wish I had someone to shove people out the way to get me stuff)
everything else was pretty tame and a good set up though for a highschool au, ASIDE from the sexual stuff? (again personal preference so don't axe me in the mentions)
Next, some screenshots of Levi doing the MOST
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You see this? This is you all's king btw because he and I would have been boxing...like? don't fucking call me stupid for forgetting shit like a bitch has ADHD so yeah I fucking forgot damn.
and CUT THEIR FEET OFF? LEVI PLEASE
But again this is good material for how he would act in a school au setting, I do remember doing a childhood au with him and the other kings and he reacted similarly by finding everything they did annoying, kept to himself, and caused an issue that nearly killed everyone because he couldn't control his powers just yet, so if I do decide to do a highschool au with Astra I'll remember Levi's reactions for reference
Oh and a couple other things
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this is our official room in Gehenna?
Baby....
I'm giving Satan extra smooches this room is gorgeous? Do we fuck in here too? I would. (i'm a sucker for canopy beds with ornate designs)
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Just some mini lore about Seere. Also something about him being under Asmodeus or this being mostly monitored by Asmo? (someone help here I was speed reading) So that's interesting.
Overall, everyone that likes schoolboy role play sexy time, have at it. My journey stops here at the sfw part.
Justice for Minhyeok though he is just in the void somewhere like
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a funny thing before you all go look at Glas' name
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it's usually Glasyalabolas, right? I was cracking up because he's never beating the Ikea furniture name allegations.
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