#Genuinely surprised I actually posted this

[maniculum]

This resonates with me as my extended family has a similar fixation on preserving family names — though they’re not as creative with it, I have to say. There’s no Roy-Emmet-Jack rotation or first-syllable approach, just “well whose name hasn’t been passed on to the next generation? great, that’s the baby’s name now.” And nobody’s as bad off as poor Breathnach Thomas.

I have a couple cousins with unusual or old-fashioned names that get funny looks — I’ve had multiple exchanges along the lines of “your cousin WHO? did you mean [more common name that kinda rhymes with what I said]?” “no i did not.” A bunch of us go by our middle names for one reason or another. Two of my cousins-once-removed have entirely normal, common first names that I genuinely don’t remember because they’ve been referred to by their middle names since infancy despite those middle names sounding like last names. I have one cousin whose first & middle names are both common but also firmly gendered in different directions: I won’t dox them, but it’s along the lines of “Frederick Jane Lastname” because there was a traditionally-female name that needed to be given to someone and the only available baby was AMAB. My sibling ended up joining the “go by the middle name that sounds like a last name” crew a while back, but that was for gender reasons.

I’ve got one of the more inconvenient-for-paperwork names, actually, which I’ll explain under a cut because I ended up going on a bit.

See, my grandfather was named after his maternal grandfather. And his mother had changed her name when she got married, but wanted to give her son his grandfather’s full name, so he ended up with two middle names. Firstname Middlename Maidenname Lastname. Nobody really liked the sound of “Firstname”, though, so he always went by Maidenname Lastname. Then he named his son the same thing, who named his son the same thing, so I’m Firstname Middlename Maidenname Lastname III. All of us agree that Firstname isn’t a good one, so we all go by variants of Maidenname Lastname. (Which means we’re all also on Team “Middle Name That Sounds Like A Last Name Used As A First Name”.)

The maiden name in question — I’ve almost certainly mentioned on the podcast what “Mac” is short for, but rather than dox myself in a text post, let’s say it’s “McKenzie”. Convenient in that it contains two syllables that are at least semi-normal names. So my grandfather always shortened it to “Mac”, and then to differentiate, rather than use one of the other surplus names, my father went by [not actually] “Ken”. My father once told me that he pitched the idea of using the last syllable for me (not actually “Zie”, but something else that in no way passes as a standard name) but was vetoed, so I’ve always been another Mac.

You would be surprised how many forms, both physical and electronic, are against the idea of two middle names. I’ve seen my second middle name squished into my first middle name to make a single word, or hyphenated with my last name, or just deleted — which is unfortunate because it’s the one I actually use. (I fully agree with my father & grandfather that “McKenzie Lastname” is the best-sounding use of our nomenclature inventory.) So I’m constantly explaining to various bureaucrats that yes, this thing that says “Mac” is referring to me, I know your system says my name is Firstname, but I go by my middle name (a practice that is in itself apparently less common than i always thought growing up) — it’s short for McKenzie — yes, I know that your system doesn’t say my middle name is McKenzie, it wasn’t designed to handle four-part names and just deleted that one — yes i’ll hold.

When I was younger, I wanted to change my name to get away from the problem — my idea was to just chop off both the first name and the last name, then I’d have the entirely normal-sounding Middlename McKenzie — but never got around to it, mostly because I was also worried that a name change could just multiply my paperwork complications. Once I’d committed to an academic career, though, I kind of came around on it, because if I just use the first two names as initials, “X. X. McKenzie Lastname” turns out to look pretty good as an author name on papers & such.

The latest paperwork issue has been how this interacts with my current employer’s “preferred name” form. It doesn’t let you enter a full preferred name (like “X. X. McKenzie Lastname”) and say “okay use that one”, and it doesn’t have a “just use my middle name for everything” option. So it turns out that the only way HR could get the system to call me “McKenzie Lastname” was to tell the computer my name was actually McKenzie Middlename McKenzie Lastname. I’ve decided to live with it.

Random question, could you give some ideas on Irish names your family may have in the 1950-60s? I got a character with an Irish grandpa with 9 brothers and sisters (3 brothers and 6 sisters) and I only got the oldest sister name (soairse) and his name (Caine). I guess I could just name the rest some form of jack and Margret since those seem to be popular, but I wanted to see if there were some “interesting” names you found in your family tree that maybe one of the siblings got named after some ancestor?

Firstly for the sake of clarity: I'm American, not Irish. All of my ancestors for the last 4-5 generations have lived here, and while I like learning about the language/music/culture, I am absolutely not an expert. I HIGHLY recommend getting a sensitivity reader, I'm sure someone in the comments can wave at you if they're willing to take on the job.

Second, Triple-check the spelling, pronunciation, meaning and provenance of any names you do choose, and ABSOLUTELY DO NOT TRUST ANY BABY NAME WEBSITES, they're basically all AI slop at best. The best written-down lists and meanings are actually on Wikipedia.

Third: If you want to learn more Irish names, you can look up the names of like, any Irish musician or artist. I think spotify still has Genre Playlists, if you look up "Irish Folk" you'll get a shitload of names of Real Irish people- and hey, if Hirohiko Akari can name all his characters after 80's pop bands, you can make a subtle ref to modern musicians. Also you'll get a bunch of fun music! --- So while I was writing this, I somewhat departed from the intent of this response, and am putting the last point under a cut because the post got long. And weird.

So there is a thing in Irish-american families, and I think it's true in the British isles still where there are "Family Names", where the same set of first names is recycled over and over and over across generations. My dad's family has exactly three male names that they rotate through over the generations: Roy, Emmet and Jack*. In that order, where the son takes the father's first name as his middle name. My great-grandfather was Roy Jack Surname, my grandfather was Emmet Roy Surname, and my dad is Jack Emmet. My sister and I were AFAB, so the names skipped us and my male cousin in my generation is now Roy Jack. In the event that there are more than three living men with the same surname in the family, that's when they start reaching for the Given Names Of In-Laws We Like and might introduce a new name into the lineup.

*Names changed for privacy above and hereafter, but you get the idea.

So if any of your characters are descendants of that grandpa? They may share a first or middle name with one of his siblings. in fact, they may share the SAME first and middle name with a living relative, and be called "Junior" or "Young Firstname" to distinguish them from the relative they were named after.

My mom's family is from England and has a similar tradition: any new girl born into that family gets a name that is based on the name of one of her living female relatives, usually by sharing the same first letter or syllable. Elanor after Eloise, Vivian after Virginia, and also Jenny after Virgnia via 'Ginny' and every variation of Margret ever, which there are way more of than you'd think.

I cannot recommend doing what they did with Male names though: Name literally every boy Bob* for like five generations, and distinguish individuals by middle name (Bob-Howard and Bob-Benjamin) surname (Bob-Jones and Bob-Bailey) or Honorific (Captain Bob, Dr. Bob, Bob Jr.) when yelling out the kitchen window.

Most families have to good sense to not have the same name repeated in a generation, even if it has a shitload of nicknames. A mother and daughter might both be Margrets (with different nicknames), but two sisters or cousins wouldn't be.

If you've got in-laws you like, but their surname didn't carry over to their kids, you can also just use their surname as a first name! "Regan" is a first and last name, as are Riley and Bailey. This works out in some cases but not in others:

I have a pretty rare surname- last time I checked, there's only 14 people with it worldwide. It's similar to two other VERY COMMON Irish Surnames, but spelled different and from a different region. It's also Very Definitely A Surname- nobody would see my surname alone and think its a firstname.

Since I don't want to bandy it about, we'll pretend that it's "Breathnach", which has a similar vibe.

My Iowa family is Enormous and all descended from my Great-Aunt Lilyanne, Emmet-Roy's sister. Being a good catholic girl, Lillyanne took her husband's surname when she married, and most of her descendants still have that surname, and none have Breathnach.

After the last of my grandfathers grandchildren were born my Iowa family was sad- all but one of Emmet-Roy's grandchildren was female, and my male cousin has his father's surname. Assuming that we would all marry and take our spouses names, the Iowa family despaired that that the Breathnach name would die out!

So one of my second cousins decided that she would Carry On The Family Name, by giving it to the son she was carrying as a Firstname.

Yeah.

Being "Breathnach Surname" is bad enough, but this was compounded by the fact that the Iowa family's surname is Thomas.

YEAH.

My poor cousin Beathnach Thomas, who always has to re-do his paperwork because NOBODY ever puts the names in the correct boxes, who had his first name printed on every jersey he ever had because the uniform place went "that can't be right!", who cant buy his own beer because he's had so many drivers licenses confiscated because liquor store owners and bartenders think his ID is a fake, who has to not only spell his name to everyone he meets, but explain it too.

Then I made it worse.

I ran into cousin Beathnach in Bozeman, Montana quite by accident a few years ago, and while catching up, I mentioned that I was married.

"You know, it's a real hassle, but I'm kind of glad I've got the name I do. I'd heard you sister changed her name, and now with you married- I'd be sad to think we were running out of Breathnachs, you know?" he laughed.

I had to explain.

I married the most wonderful man in the world, who has an extremely common first and last name. Which was kind of a problem, because he shares it with some truly rotten people that always come up during background checks and he has have to explain he's not THAT asshole. It also sounds like and is only a letter or two off a lot of other very common names so his mail is constantly sent awry.

My husband will shortly abandon his too-common-for-comfort surname and become the newest Breathnach, taking the total to 15 (the paperwork takes a while).

...So the name lives on through us anyway, and poor cousin Breathnach Thomas went through all that for no reason. He got very quiet, got up from the table and walked outside to the veranda of the restaurant we were in to stare into the picturesque scenery for a while.

"Well, it's not like people change their first names..." he sighed, when he returned to the table.

"...You know how my sister changed her name? She only changed her first name. She's still a Breathnach." I explained quietly.

I've never seen a man look so haunted.

"I know lots of people who've changed their first names, actually. Mostly for transgender reasons, but a bunch because they just didn't like the one they were given." I added, because if he's going to get his world turned over, it's best to flip it all at once.

His brow furrowed at the ponderous speed of a continental collision, approaching the idea with caution. "...I'll have to think about it."

It's been about a year, but since then, I'll get a text from him every few weeks, auditioning a new given name. I do my best to be fair- I give him the meanings of those names, how they're likely to be misconstrued (some are tolerable annoyances, some pose a safety risk), and if he'd be sharing that name with anybody notable or troublesome. The first few were clearly based on Breathnach, but he began to branch out, and the trend of names has indicated that the idea of Naming Himself is causing my cousin to examine himself, and come to some Realizations (TM).

I realize I have gotten completely off-topic from your actual ask, but I urge you to really get into the nuance of nomencalture, because a name can tell a fascinating story.

[cinnamqnx]

⋆. 𐙚 ˚ strawberry milkshake ft, oliver aiku

summary. in an attempt to make your ex boyfriend jealous, you go to your last resort and go on a date with the biggest player you know. to your surprise, he’s not as bad as he’s made out to be.

“i don’t bite, y’know.”, oliver says, his small, usual smirk plastered on his face as he looks at you from across the diner booth.

“confirmed by no one.”, you retort, giving him an awkward smile before sipping on the strawberry milkshake oliver had ordered you.

“yeah? why’d you come on this date with me then?”, he asks, placing his knuckles on his cheek, “or are you still hung up on your ex that you feel the need to make him jealous?”

okay damn, he didn’t need to call you out like that.

“i’m not hung up on him.”, you scowl.

“then why you tryna make him jealous?”, he questions, tilting his head as he smiles.

you open your mouth to answer him, but a reply doesn’t seem to come out. you wasn’t really sure what you were doing. were you over him? did you just want some payback?

“yeah, i thought so.”, he chuckles.

“i can help you out if you want, i know how to make a guy jealous.”, he shrugs.

you give him a weird look, sipping on your milkshake, “really?”

he hums at your question, “here, how about you take a picture of me holding your hand and post it on your story.”

“why are you actually wanting to help me on this?”, you question.

he shrugs again, “got nothing else to do here.”, he pauses, “besides, your ex is annoying as fuck, it would be funny seeing him jealous.”

you give a small smile at his response, “okay then.”

you ended up posting the photo, spending the rest of the date with oliver, eating greasy fries and burgers and surprisingly enough, not even thinking about your ex.

you were pleasantly surprised by how much oliver made you laugh. maybe it was his initial charm to reel women in, or maybe he was just a genuine guy with a questionable reputation.

it didn’t matter, you were having fun.

suddenly, you hear your phone vibrate against the tabke, picking it up to see it was you ex.

“that who i think it is?”, oliver asks.

you hum, showing him the screen.

“you gonna answer him?”, he tilts his head as he asks.

you shake your head, declining the call and putting your phone on do not disturb, “no, i’m having a good time here.”

you watch his smile widen. not his stupid smirk, but a genuine, sweet smile.

“hey, lemme try some of your milkshake, i’ve been eyeing it all night.”, he sits up.

you couldn’t help but giggle, sliding the half empty glass of strawberry milkshake towards him.

[gumims]

love at first spike <3

tldr; headcannons with hq boys on vday!

includes: osamu, atsumu, kuroo, kenma, suna, hinata, oikawa, and bokuto

osamu miya

osamu doesn’t make a big deal out of valentine’s day, but that doesn’t mean he forgets. he wakes you up with a bag of onigiri he made just for you, wrapped neatly with a little note that just says eat up in his messy handwriting. he’s not one for grand gestures, but he does take you out for a quiet dinner at the end of the day, probably somewhere with good food and not too many people. if you tease him about being soft, he just shrugs and says, “figured you’d like it, that’s all.”

atsumu miya

atsumu is loud and obnoxious about valentine’s day. he makes a big show of handing you a bouquet in front of everyone, winking like he’s in some kind of romance movie. he probably tries to get you to wear matching colors with him, and if you refuse, he whines about it the entire day. but despite all the theatrics, he gets serious when it counts—pulling you aside at the end of the night, pressing a kiss to your forehead, and mumbling, “thanks for puttin’ up with me, babe.”

kuroo tetsurou

kuroo is a mix of flirty and sentimental. he gives you a corny science-themed valentine’s card, are you made of copper and tellurium? because you’re Cu-Te, but then follows it up with something more heartfelt, like a handwritten letter or a playlist of songs that remind him of you. he drags you to some nerdy museum or a rooftop with a view of the city, where he wraps an arm around you and grins. “happy valentine’s, baby. how does it feel to date the most charming guy alive?”

kenma kozume

kenma acts like valentine’s day is just another day, but you notice the small things—he waits until midnight to send you a simple happy valentine’s, and he actually sets his games aside to spend time with you. he lets you pick the movie or the game, and if you ask him about it, he just shrugs. “it’s your day too, so whatever you want.” it’s quiet, it’s effortless, but it means everything coming from him.

suna rintarou

suna acts like he doesn’t care, but he’s a menace about it in his own way. he’ll send you blurry, badly drawn valentine’s memes all day and make sarcastic comments like, wow, lucky you, getting to spend today with me. but then he casually pulls out a small gift—something he knows you wanted but never expected him to remember. when you call him out on it, he just shrugs, leaning in to kiss your temple. “yeah, yeah, better get used to it.”

hinata shoyo

hinata is so excited about valentine’s day. he gets you a big, goofy stuffed animal and a box of chocolates, grinning ear to ear when he hands them over. he’s the type to plan a full day of activities—maybe a cute little café date, followed by a spontaneous adventure, because he just wants to do everything with you. he gets all flustered when he realizes how much effort he put in, rubbing the back of his neck. “i just… i wanted today to be special for you, y’know?”

oikawa tooru

oikawa goes all out. he’s got flowers, chocolates, a fancy dinner reservation—he treats valentine’s day like it’s a scene straight out of a romance drama. he probably posts about it too, making sure everyone knows he’s the best boyfriend ever. but when it’s just the two of you, he gets a little softer, a little more genuine, resting his forehead against yours. “you know, i’d spoil you like this every day if i could.”

bokuto koutarou

bokuto treats valentine’s day like a big event. he wakes up extra early just to surprise you with something ridiculous, like a giant balloon or a heart-shaped breakfast. he’s so hyped to spend the entire day with you, practically bouncing with excitement. at some point, he probably gets sentimental, pulling you into a crushing hug. “honey, you’re the best thing ever,” he says, voice muffled against your hair. and you know he means every word.

[wrioreid]

| Valentine's Day | spencer reid x reader

You and Spencer have plans to celebrate your first Valentine's Day together.

Warnings: fluff, slight angst?, indefinite season, some references to the series, without a definite pronoun I think?, lots of rambling.

Author's note: Hello, happy Valentine's Day! The day is literally over, but I only managed to post now :c I really wanted to write something involving my pookie and rewatching some episodes I had some ideas to put in the fanfic. Sorry if any part was confusing or doesn't make sense, I swear I tried!! Anyway, I hope it's fun to read!

The simple drops of icy water that fell calmly from the tree branches contrasted completely with the warm feeling emanating from the couples walking around there. Couples, lovers, families, friends. The street was full of people who were overflowing with love for each other, and you watched them solemnly while leaning your back against the icy wall of some random store. Not even a morning of persistent rain and unpleasantly below-par temperatures could spoil the romantic atmosphere and prevent people from loving each other.

It was February 14th, Valentine's Day. Or rather, your first Valentine's Day with someone. It was late afternoon and the rain had stopped, leaving only small drops of water as a reminder. The temperature continued, but nothing that good layers of clothing and a warm love couldn't solve.

You were waiting for Spencer. You had started dating the previous year, after February, so this was the first time you would celebrate this day together. In fact, neither of them cared about the date. You could even hear his skeptical voice again, talking about how this celebration made no sense and that it stopped being a proof of unconditional love a long time ago. On the other hand, you had never cared about the date because you had never had someone special enough to show that you were still made of love. Now that you had someone, you wanted to make the date unique.

You bite your lip, trying to suppress a smile, remembering how Spencer looked when you answered him saying that you had the desire to experience the magic of the day at least once. Not shocked, not surprised, but hopeful. The “Me too” that he whispered uncertainly like a secret being eternally kept in your mind. After that day, you started planning how you would spend the celebration, the millions of colored papers full of ideas - and dreams - scattered on the floor of his house being a warm memory in your mind.

But even though the plans were set a few good weeks ago, you - and neither he - could control your nervousness when today finally arrived. Even when you were walking together a few hours ago - him accompanying you to your house as he always did at least once a week - you couldn't hold a decent conversation. There was barely a goodbye, just you running inside the house to get ready and him running to his house to do the same. Now there you were, playing with a small puddle of water in front of you with the boot you had specially chosen while you waited for Spencer to arrive.

It wasn't like him to be late at all, and it was starting to get difficult to control your anxiety. Maybe he gave up. Maybe he realized it was something silly and irrational to celebrate. There were millions of thoughts battling against the small memory of the genuine smile he let out every time he read the post-its with the ideas for the long-awaited day.

Despite his confession when the subject came up, you had never actually talked about Valentine's Day before, much less if he had ever celebrated it. You knew that Spencer had already been in relationships with a few other people before, but you deduced that he had never celebrated the day, probably because he let reason take over, as always. However, deep down, you couldn't help but think that it was because he never allowed himself to celebrate, the idea that he was incapable of being loved rooted in his mind.

You felt pain in your heart, almost like a heart attack, when your relationship grew deeper and you would notice with each encounter these small - big - scratches that he had on his soul. Someone who would like to be seen as normal, to be perceived as someone capable of loving and being loved.

So, you take a deep breath and let the bad thoughts go away. Deep down, this is also his wish, and you accept this fact. You push yourself away from the wall, determined to find a better and more visible spot to make it easier for him. However, you didn't count on finding him standing in front of you when you stopped looking at the floor. And damn, he looked stunning.

His soft and tidy hair, his untidy white t-shirt, the wine-colored cardigan on top showing off his crooked black tie, his slightly wrinkled dress pants quickly revealing the pair of mismatched socks. All of this being soaked up by the dark gray overcoat and the purple scarf. There was literally nothing different about his style, but at the same time there was everything. Maybe it wasn't anything different physically, but whatever it was, was enough to make the thoughts that tormented you before seem like nothing more than a small fraction of an unknown nightmare now.

Spencer clears his throat, trying to bring your attention back to the real world. You can't tell if he's blushing because of the cold or because he's been stared at so intensely, but either way, it's cute. "Sorry I'm late," he says quietly, even though no one else can hear.

"It's okay, we'll still be a few minutes early." You smile playfully and awkwardly stand next to him, ready to go to the first attraction of the day. After millions of desires were buried by a job that took up too much of your time, the final decision was a traditional Valentine's Day schedule so that you could enjoy all the romantic experiences that couples usually have - as much as possible. The first stop would be at a small local theater to watch Romeo and Juliet. Afterwards, you would enjoy a beautiful romantic dinner at a special place, and by that you mean that you would have dinner at Spencer's house. And then, he would walk you home. It sounds simple, but it was more than perfect.

Despite your movement, Reid doesn't move. He looks at you with a tight-lipped smile as he unrolls a black and white fabric from his messenger bag. You hadn't realized it was there and before you know it, he's lovingly wrapping the scarf around your neck.

"I knew you'd forget," he whispers, smiling like a child who's been naughty. You use the scarf as a shield to hide your flushed cheeks, starting to walk quickly after whispering a thank you. The smell of freshly washed clothes with a hint of fresh vanilla is the only thing you can smell now, intoxicating you like a drink.

However, it's not enough to make you not notice the awkward silence between you. You've known each other for a long time and talk a lot, but the idea of ​​something new, a unique - and secret, in a way - celebration between the two of you was too much for both. You snuggle even closer into the scarf and slide your hand closer to his, your pinkies touching. You notice him looking at you from the corner of his eye, a look full of secrets for the others, but not for you. Calmly, he intertwines his fingers with yours, you now walking hand in hand and both of you smiling foolishly behind the scarf.

The play's performance was interesting, but it was hard to concentrate on it while Spencer made several dissatisfied expressions beside you. "It's almost revolting how a play about young love, family rivalry and lack of communication turned into a mere sad story about love at first sight. And I haven't even talked about the imaginary balcony yet!" It was the last thing he said after you left the theater and started walking towards his apartment, distractedly engaging in other matters.

“You can’t deny it, Spence,” you laugh out loud, smiling at his pouting face. “Love moves worlds!”

“It changes realities, that’s what it does,” he mutters, looking irritated, but a playful smile plays on his lips. “A tribute to a bishop who went against an emperor turned into a celebration of love with an exchange of gifts and declarations just because they decided to combine love and romance! And it makes much more sense for the celebration to exist because this is the first day of mating for birds. It’s the order of life!”

“Of course, it makes much more sense for men to leave love messages on their loved ones’ doors because the birds are procreating,” you giggle. “I think I’m talking to the reincarnation of Claudius II and I didn’t know it.” You joke, having even more fun when you notice Spencer pondering his words for a few moments, a furrow forming between his eyebrows.

“Technically, men who have nothing to lose are better at war than those who have love,” he pauses, now speaking again with a mischievous smile, “For example, I worked much better before I met you.”

You stop walking, shock written all over your face as you stare at him in disbelief. Spencer laughs, stretching one of his hands to intertwine them. He gently kisses the top of your hand. “Contrary to statistics and facts, I have been working better since we met and you know that very well,” he whispers, still with your hand close to his mouth, his lips brushing against your skin with each movement. You turn your face away, still angry, but taking the opportunity to control the immense urge to kiss him.

However, the whole act ends when you feel something different in your hand - the same one he was holding until just now. You turn your head quickly only to notice the beautiful red rose that magically rested in your hand, its scent so present that even from that distance you could smell it. Paralyzed, you stare at Spencer, mouth open, not knowing what to do. He stares back at you with a smile from ear to ear, his nose red from the cold.

“As someone told me the other day,” he says calmly and amusedly, “It’s worth ignoring the hype, the advertising and the high prices for someone special.”

You can barely react. Twirling the rose between your thumb and index finger, the only thing you can do is control the tears that are welling up in your eyes. It’s the first time you’ve received a flower so full of feelings from someone. A single, simple flower, but it was worth more than an entire field. Spencer calmly waits for you to recover, tenderness sparkling in his eyes.

“You’re an idiot,” you manage to whisper, hugging the flower gently so as not to ruin it or hurt yourself, despite your clothes. “H-How? Since when?”

He shrugs, reaching for your hand again and intertwining it with his, putting both in the pocket of his overcoat as he walks on again. “A magician doesn’t reveal his secrets… and he always has tricks up his sleeve.” He lets a sentence hang in the air, more mysterious than it should be. You stare at him, waiting for him to continue, but you only get a pat on the hand.

The rest of the way was calm and quiet, but comfortable enough for you to process everything, your eyes never leaving the delicate flower resting on your chest. When you arrive at the apartment, you can't help but notice how much - more than ever - this place made you feel like home.

A small smile escapes your lips as Spencer offers to help you remove and put away your coat and scarf. He removes his own scarf and coat as well and offers to put your rose in a container of water so it doesn't die. You hand it to him and as he disappears into the kitchen, you wander through the rows and rows of books, stopping when you notice that the chess pieces were not on the usual table, the moonlight coming through the window and illuminating only the chess board.

"I couldn't think of a better place," you hear Spencer say before looking in your direction, noticing the beautiful vase with several roses that he held in one hand and the tablecloth that he held in the other. He lovingly hands you the jar, smiling softly “I tried to put them all in my bag, but it was a bad idea, so they were waiting for you” he laughs embarrassedly as he arranges the tablecloth on the table.

You smile from ear to ear, enchanted by the beauty of the flowers, and place the vase in the center of the table so you can help him set up the rest of the romantic dinner. When everything was finished, you stop for a few moments to appreciate it and can't help but smile when your gaze lingers between the two chairs. As your relationship with Spencer deepened, a second chair began to appear frequently at the chess table, a sweet reminder of all the times you played there - and that, now, was even part of the scenery in his apartment -.

You sit there, smiling amusedly when Spencer reappears with a lit candle in his hand. "Waiter, please" you joke. He looks at you with arched eyebrows, carefully placing the candle next to the flowers. "On average, more than 7,000 candle fires happen here in the country each year".

You laugh nasally, fascinated by the moment "Thank you, Spence… I don't even know what to say. Everything is so… right, so romantic".

“It’s the least I could do and… I actually wish I had cooked, but time…” he scratches the back of his neck, embarrassed.

“It’s perfect, seriously. Next time we’ll cook together and you’ll see my culinary skills,” you say, making a silly smile appear on his face as he nods positively.

You eat and talk calmly for a long time, enjoying each other’s company. When darkness already dominates the streets, you realize it’s time to end the night. After helping Spencer put things back in their proper places, you pause in the middle of the room on your way out, pondering what to do. It was still Valentine’s Day and you hadn’t kissed.

However, in these last moments, Spencer seemed more spaced out and lost in his own thoughts, probably overwhelmed by the emotions of the day. You feel bad for a moment, wondering if you hadn’t forced it too much with him. So, you choose to quickly grab your flowers and your coat, your little goodbye speech already on the tip of your tongue.

“Wait,” Spencer, who was standing there watching you get ready, spoke hurriedly and, after making sure you weren’t leaving yet, disappeared into his room, returning moments later hugging an object to his chest. He walked until he was close to you, but never stopped looking at what he had in his arms. Looking closely now, you noticed that it was a somewhat old book, with some obvious marks on the cover and spine.

Spencer opened and closed his mouth several times, but unable to say anything, he just handed the book to you. Parlement of Foules was printed in large letters.

“T-This is considered the first Valentine’s Day poem,” he said uncertainly, his tone lower than normal, as if he wasn’t talking to you. “For this was on St. Valentine’s Day, when every fowl comes there his mate to take… is a 700-line poem that follows the tradition of dream vision poetry, a medieval literary style, and Chaucer uses it to discuss romantic love and freedom of choice… my mother read it to me when I was a child” he finishes in a whisper so low that you doubt if you heard it right. You press the book against your fingers, understanding the weight that it implied.

Spencer bites his lip, but resumes speaking, now with a more confident tone “It was a poem that stuck in my memory, more than any other and… given today’s date I would like it… to become important to you too. It’s the second copy my mother had in case something happened to the first one… but nothing ever happened and well… one copy is enough for me” he smiles embarrassedly, scratching the back of his neck “I-I left some notes throughout the book, too, so you would always feel accompanied while reading and… well, know my opinions about it”

“Couldn’t you read it to me too?” The question escapes your lips, your eyes glazed over the book as you caress the cover with interest.

Spencer is taken aback by the question, but a small smile plays on his lips. “I could too, of course” he paused again, now looking at you expectantly “There’s one more thing in there…”

You press your lips together and stare at him. Passion, surprise, affection… you felt so many things in that moment that not even the cold wind outside could cool the warmth that permeates your heart. You delicately open the book, noticing a writing on the title page. It was in pencil, and the marks from previous attempts were still there as if they were telling you a secret, but they didn’t get in the way of reading the large, hurried letters.

You can only teach a child to love by loving them. Johann Goethe, From your Spencer

A small drop falls onto the page, briefly staining the paper. You then realize that tears are streaming down your face, even though a tender smile has not left your lips. Spencer comes even closer, taking the book from your hand so he can hold it in his. With his other hand, he slowly passes it over your face, wiping away the small drops that insisted on running down.

“The whole discussion of the poem revolves around love… whether people are destined to be together or whether they have the right to choose, whether by passion, affinity or social conventions.” He speaks delicately, never taking his eyes off you. “Love is everyone’s final destiny, but it is a complex, free and uncertain process that, honestly, is still the action of hormones and neurotransmitters…” He bites his lips, quickly looking away to look at you again, determined. “But even so, even though it is not destiny… I firmly believe and I am more than happy to know that I made all the correct choices that led us to meeting.”

Honestly, fuck it. You put your hands around his face, cradling him, and bring him closer to you. Your lips touch gently, and you can't focus on anything else. Spencer timidly holds your waist, pulling you closer to deepen the kiss. Delicately, he starts to run his hands over your body as if he were appreciating a work of art until he reaches your face, where he caresses the side of your cheek with one hand and pulls you even closer with the other - if that's possible -. You separate from the kiss panting, but remain close, your foreheads touching. Spencer calmly places a tender kiss on your nose, then your forehead and, finally, on the top of your head, enjoying every second.

When you look at each other again, the only thing you can whisper are several "Thank yous". He smiles lovingly, still caressing your face.

“I don’t even know how to thank you, Spence,” you whisper. “You gave me so much today, with so much love, so much dedication… and I only gave you a meager little letter with messages that you surely already knew… I really don’t know how to repay you.”

His smile widens and when he answers, you feel like you’ve finally found your place. “Nothing could surpass the happiness your letter brought me, love, there’s nothing you can repay. However, it would make me even happier if you slept here…”

Author's note 2: Hello there! If you've made it this far, thank you so much for reading! I'm also on c.ai with the same user @/wrioreid, but the process of making the bots is going veryyy slowly.

[bizarrzibub]

I am not the kind of person who usually reblogs ads (a tragic creature with a dry bussy) but why is tubi cowboy?

This character's grotesqueness is absolute. He is a non thing. He is a negative space of loveability. I didn't know horniness had an opposite feeling until I saw him.

There is something cosmic about it. It will not surprise me at all to find out that I have been cursed in some way and I am the only one who can see the tubi cowboy.

Is his brain shaped like a cowboy hat? Is there an actual cowboy hat where his brain should be? Why is it veiny?

Why, oh great old ones, WHY is it that every single ad I've seen on tumblr for the past 4 days have been this........ thing?

The CGI or makeup or whatever is going on here is genuinely quite well done. Is it a prelude to the consequences of playing God, how much effort we are willing to put into the visual simulation of flesh bent into impossible shapes? Are we but another in a chain of beings exercising cruelty on lower dimensions of reality? Are we, like the Tubi Cowboy, one of infinite windows into the abyss through which our creators look and fall silent at the power and dread of their own creativity? Perchance.

Tubi Cowboy is under every 8th or so text post. He goes for just long enough for my adhd addled brain to rest, but he returns. He gazes back. Oh, no, oh God! Help me! I'm beginning to understand!

Went to the wild west and back to get you these Tubi recos. You’re welcome.

[prettygirl-gabi]

My Heart Beats For You

Pairing: Jana El Alfy x Reader

Fandom: UConn’s women’s basketball

POV: First-person

Word Count: 1,400+

Summary: Your turn to do the planning

Valentine’s Day is supposed to be a day full of love, cute surprises, and quality time with your person.

But when your person is a D1 basketball player at UConn—who also happens to have a brutal practice schedule—it means adjusting expectations.

Jana and I had been dating for almost a year now, and this was our first Valentine’s Day together. I knew she wanted to do something special, but with practice running late and a game coming up, she hadn’t been able to plan much.

She had apologized at least five times over FaceTime last night.

“Habibti, I promise I’ll make it up to you,” she had said, her accent thick with sleep as she lay in bed, eyes barely open. “Next weekend, I’ll plan something perfect.”

I had laughed, shaking my head. “Babe, it’s fine. We can just spend time together.”

Jana had pouted. “But I want to do something special for you.”

She was adorable when she was frustrated, and I knew she was genuinely upset about it.

So, I decided to take matters into my own hands.

If Jana couldn’t plan something for Valentine’s Day, I would do it for her.

The plan was simple but thoughtful.

After checking her schedule, I realized she had a rare free evening after practice. So, I set up a small picnic in her dorm—candles (fake ones, because I wasn’t trying to get us kicked out), a blanket on the floor, her favorite takeout from the Mediterranean spot she loved, and a playlist of all the slow R&B songs we played when we cuddled.

I even got her a small gift—a silver chain with a basketball pendant, engraved with our initials on the back.

Now, all I had to do was wait.

By the time Jana finally walked through the door, she looked exhausted, her duffel bag slung over her shoulder, hair still damp from her post-practice shower.

The second she saw the setup, though, she froze.

Her eyes widened as she took in the candles, the food, the cozy setup on the floor.

“Y/N…” she breathed, dropping her bag.

I grinned. “Happy Valentine’s Day, habibti.”

She blinked a few times, as if making sure she wasn’t imagining it. “You did all this… for me?”

I laughed, standing up and walking over to her. “Of course, I did. You’ve been so stressed about not having time to plan anything, so I figured I’d handle it this year.”

Jana shook her head in disbelief, her arms wrapping tightly around my waist. “You’re amazing.”

I pressed a kiss to her cheek. “I know.”

She laughed, finally relaxing into my arms.

Once she changed into comfy clothes, we sat on the floor, eating and talking about our days.

“I swear, practice was a nightmare,” Jana groaned, taking a bite of her food. “Coach had us running full-court sprints for what felt like an hour straight.”

I winced. “That sounds awful.”

She nodded, rubbing her sore shoulders. “I was literally ready to collapse.”

I reached over, massaging her arm. “Poor baby.”

She hummed in approval. “Keep doing that, and I might propose right now.”

I smirked. “Oh? Is that all it takes?”

She grinned, leaning in closer. “That, and the fact that you’re literally the best girlfriend ever.”

I rolled my eyes but felt warmth spread through me. “I try.”

Jana’s gaze softened as she looked around the room again. “Seriously, Y/N. This is the best surprise ever. I don’t deserve you.”

I nudged her. “Don’t be ridiculous. You deserve everything and more.”

She exhaled, shaking her head. “How did I get so lucky?”

I smirked. “Must be my charm.”

Jana laughed, then suddenly perked up. “Wait. I actually have something for you, too.”

I raised an eyebrow. “Oh?”

She got up, rushing over to her duffel bag. When she came back, she was holding a small, neatly wrapped box.

I blinked in surprise. “Jana… when did you—?”

“I’ve had this for weeks,” she admitted, rubbing the back of her neck. “I just didn’t plan anything big because I didn’t think I’d have time.”

I carefully unwrapped the box, revealing a delicate silver bracelet with a small charm in the shape of a heart. On the inside, there was an engraving:

“My heart beats for you.”

I stared at it, my throat tightening.

“Jana…”

She shifted nervously. “Do you like it?”

I didn’t answer. Instead, I lunged at her, wrapping my arms around her neck and kissing her deeply.

She made a surprised noise before melting into it, her hands finding my waist.

When we finally pulled back, I rested my forehead against hers, grinning. “I love it. And I love you.”

Jana smiled, her hands gently holding my face. “I love you too, habibti.”

---

■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■

                 -Thank You For Reading!🩵🩶

                             -prettygirl-gabi🎀✨️

[scrumptiousstuffs]

Hey anon here

I know I will be sounding very stupid here and as much as I love being a delulu fan but I know how the bl industry works and as for a fact the entire entertainment Business for that matter, it's about engagement and fan services, I saw almost all the couples of gmmtv put stories about their dates and how they celebrated their valantine with each other but then realistically speaking I know for a fact most of it was fan service coz no way each cp in a company is dating each other so what's your take on this whole thing, also I'm not saying they are faking it or something like if some of them are dating then that's really good but all of them it's hard to believe

Also I'm a firstkhao fan and well as much as I wanted them to post something just to feed my delulu but then they didn't and that's so them and how many chances do you think of them dating two different people is true as I saw on fan speaking about it and I know it was for fun but then why not it's their Life after all and we are just fans who live them together

Hi anon.

So, I’m not going to say I know much about how CPs and the entertainment business work.

However, I think you are right in saying that most official CPs (and even some who are not - like Kapook and Ciize!! 😉) put up some sort of photoshoots or coupl-y type of activities (either going for dinner/sunset dates or making reels of giving each other beautiful bouquet of flower etc.) are doing a level of fanservice - be it for the fans to squeal over, promoting their upcoming series or to attract engagement to better their work prospects.

But I also feel most of these CPs are genuine friends in real-life and for them, doing these sorts of activities are fun for them. After all, you get to hang out with a close friend whom you cherish, even if you have to put up a photo (or 2) +/- video reels on your social media as an “obligatory post.”

What I do feel somehow sad for the CPs are when fans (+ media outlets) keep asking insistently “what are your plans with so and so?” - I’m pretty sure JoongDunk got asked multiple times these questions leading up to Valentine’s Day. And then asked again during their recent work event on 14/02/25 - what their Valentine’s dinner plan is? What gifts did the boys buy each other? How do you guys show each other your love? (Or something to that effect) - cause I saw Dunk (to his credit he was very professional), answering that Joong’s way to show love is by physical affection while he showed his by cooking/baking with Joong always the first one to taste his food.

Maybe I’m in the minority, but my personal opinion - if the CPs want to tell us, they can do so without anyone else badgering them about it through their social media posts at their own time and choosing.

As for FirstKhaotung (they are also my OTP 😂anon!!!)…I admit I was puzzled when the fans are disappointed about the lack of “Valentine updates” from them.

Firstly, both boys wished the fans “Happy Valentine’s Day” on Twitter (even if First was trolling us with a picture of P’Tha in the middle of him and Khaotung 🤣)

Secondly, both boys posted IG updates of them wishing the other Valentine’s Day with song choices that I could only interpret as love confession to each other… 🙂‍↕️🙂‍↕️🙂‍↕️

Thirdly, are we all that surprised the boys don’t put up videos/pictures of them giving each other flowers/chocolates? (Or doing couple photoshoots?) - I get the feeling they are just happily nesting in Khaotung’s brand new house with 3 fur babies around them while playing video games after perhaps brunch/lunch + shopping together (cause let’s be honest, that will be their version of a perfect Valentine’s Day).

So , Iike you anon - I am not surprised by the minimal Valentine posts/photos from them (in fact, I was pleasantly shocked the IG posts from them happened at all - which led me into more delulu land hahah)

As for them actually dating another person 🤷🏽‍♀️…who knows. If/when it happens, I’ll cheer them on. However, all I know is that whoever is dating First/Khaotung, will actually be dating them as a set rather than one person 😂. My head canon is that F/K going on a date with someone, and the bestie who is NOT on that date will just tag along anyway 🤸 …

[hitlikehammers]

steddie does the 🌷flower-blooming🌷 disease love thing—but make it ✨only softness✨

OR: think hanahaki with a princess romantic, ✨non-life threatening✨, horticultural🌿 streak

Honestly: after everything, the flowers should not have been a surprise. And look: sappy romance novels might talk about choking on them or what the fuck ever, about it being lethal if unrequited, blah blah etcetera. But as far as Eddie ever understood, it was kinda like…your body having too much of a thing, and needing to expel it, lest it cause some kind of imbalance. But when it was love—requited or otherwise—it expelled itself as something a little horrifying, but undeniably beautiful. Flowers. And you tend them as best you can. They’re a part of you. Because it’s terrifying. But it’s beautiful. You’re in love that big.

rating: t ♥️ tags: post-s4, falling in love, friends to lovers, fluff, romance, softness, hanahaki disease, or really more: hanahaki-adjacent 🌺🌻, as in: NO life-threatening angst ONLY big feelings and beauty, feelings reveal, love confessions, happy ending♥️

for @steddielovemonth day sixteen: “If I had a flower for every time I thought of you...I could walk through my garden forever.” ― Alfred Tennyson

A lot had changed since Vecna. Aches and pains that weren’t there before. Nightmares featuring a very new cast of characters. A family he never could have imagined cobbling together who actually took the concept seriously, in a way Eddie had never felt anything close to in his life—save with Wayne. Random worries that plagued a lot of random moments, unprovoked.

Steve goddamn Harrington sliding almost too-perfectly into every little crevice of Eddie’s life—except for the sexy ones and…that hadn’t started as a problem. In fact, it hadn’t started even as a consideration, because gorgeous as he is? Straight-hero-boy was never gonna be on Eddie’s metaphorical dance card. So it’d been a much less convoluted and earth-shattering experience—though it still very much was both of those things; just less—to wake up in the hospital with Steve napping at his side, or squinting at a pamphlets nurse had left about physical therapy; or waking up and Steve was already in the kitchen making breakfast, like real breakfast, when Eddie’s meal standards usually involved shoving his hand into a box and stuffing his mouth with theta he could grab. Or Steve just, stopping by before or after his shifts, to see if Eddie needed anything. To listen to Eddie ramble about a campaign, or bring Eddie the latest release from a band he said he liked probably one time. To fall asleep on the bed on top of the comforter and cut the nightmares short just by rolling over with a hand to eddies chest and a muffled S’okay.

Or most uncanny: coming over, just to hang out.

So getting used to all that made it easier to segue into going to visit Steve at work when Eddie could finally move around enough to drive again. Stopping at Steve’s place unannounced when he’d finally been convinced he was genuinely welcome—by way of Steve giving him a key, what the fuck—and that there really were no parents waiting with pitchforks. Trying his own hand at making meals for when Steve worked midday shifts, so he’d have something when he pulled in—so what if it’s frozen pizza. It’s the fucking thought that counts—and Eddie really does need to start small. He really can’t start a fire in Steve’s kitchen, so he needs to get a decent track record going here in his own first.

Because he does want to cook for Steve. In Steve’s kitchen. When he spent the night at Steve’s, even. When he kept some nightmares in check.

Honestly: after all that, the flowers should not have been a surprise.

And look: sappy romance novels—aimed either at horny teenagers or housewives who can’t get a refill on their antidepressants—might talk about choking on them or what the fuck ever, about it being lethal if unrequited, blah blah etcetera. But as far as Eddie ever understood, it was kinda like…your body having too much of a thing, and needing to expel it, lest it cause some kind of imbalance. Like lots of…body things.

But when it was love—requited or otherwise—it expelled itself as something a little horrifying, but undeniably beautiful.

Flowers.

So when Eddie starts growing jasmine from his fingertips; honeysuckle in the hairs on his arms and legs; bluebells from every line of scar tissue, no matter where it ran; alternating sunflowers, dahlias, and red asters, straight from the center of his sternum, always in the same order and always accompanied by whichever wasn’t steadily unfurling from his chest, the other two in spades were getting coughed up not violently, but persistently, in the meantime—always, like all of it, a little fucking terrifying—with blossoms of lisianthus to cover both his nipples—which he had to look up; they were real pretty but fuck if he’d ever seen one before it bloomed his tits like a Renaissance painting trying to be censored by a stray leaf—before he pulled them all the way out and sparked the cycle again: horrifying. But he knew enough that the point was to cultivate the growth, the encourage your own body doing its thing to keep you a-okay (or close enough), so he does what everyone’s taught to do, if this…challenge happens to visit upon them.

You fucking plant them. So they can take root the way they want to but can’t—whether because it’s too much for anyone to speak and show even their truest, most treasured partner, or because they don’t, or can’t, have a partner with whom to even try—but you plant the growing things, the living embodiment of what your heart’s beating out of your pores.

Literally.

And you tend them as best you can. They’re a partof you.

Because it’s terrifying. But it’s beautiful.

You’re in love that big.

And of course Eddie knows why. He watches Steve sleep too much, touches his chest to ease the nightmares too much, cooks next to him too much, feels his breath catch at his side on the sofa too much, for him not to know.

He’s kinda proud of it, actually. Because what he feels is this huge and terrifying and exquisite. No matter what he can never do about it with his gorgeous straight now-undoubtedly-best friend.

But it is massive and terrifying and beautiful, and fuck yeah his every cell should be blossoming a testament to the fact that he, freak-supreme Edward Munson, gets to feel it. No matter what comes or doesn’t—save for the flowers themselves.

It’s predictable, though, and definitely in line with both Eddie’s general mixed bag of luck, as much as with the life and routine and expectation of the presence of Steve goddamn Harrington, that…well:

“What is this?”

Eddie tapping down the soil around the last of this morning’s ready-to-transplant blossoms he plucked straight out the shower—good for like…watering and stuff.

He thinks.

He hadn’t heard Steve’s approach, is the thing. And he’s never shown Steve this little space, cordoned off at the edge of the woods behind the little house their government money earned them. It’s mostly out of sight. There no reason to poke around out here.

Save…well. This reason.

“Just my garden,” Eddie tries to say all casual, keep it light like his heart’s not in his goddamn throat.

“You,” Steve says slow, walks the perimeter like he recognizes on sight what this is, what this means, that it’s all terrifying and beautiful and something close to sacred.

All he says is:

“These can’t grow this fast.”

Like he actually does specifically know for a fact that the various species in the ground in front of them couldn’t naturally be this big, this fast, in the time since the Munsons moved in.

Eddie still asks, because he’s never taken Steve here, wasn’t expecting Steve to find him here now, and his heart’s still knocking wild at the base of his fucking throat:

“How do you know?”

Steve looks at Eddie for a series of blinks that feel probably a lot longer for how many heartbeats fit into the space of time. Then he shrugs, eyes back to the flowers:

“I like to garden.”

That’s news to Eddie.

“How do you know I didn’t like to garden, too? Y’know, before?”

Because Eddie could have. Not like they’d known each other. He doesn’t know where in the fucking trailer park he’d have done it, let alone hidden it from view so as to have no evidence, but he couldhave. These beauties could have been salvaged from a former home, a half-former life, for all anyone could prove—the trailer’s long been confiscated and the lot it’s sat on’s still quarantined.

Steve leans over the sad little fence Eddie’s put up around the edges, where the larger plants—mostly the ones that burst out from the center of his chest—make a border. His eyes flick up to Eddie’s as he reaches for a petal, but doesn’t touch: he’s asking permission.

And of course Eddie nods, because anything he has is Steve’s. No question.

“Who is it for?”

Eddie nearly can’t stop himself from snorting because: anything he has is Steve’s.

This, maybe most of all.

“No one I can have,” Eddie leans against the opposite line of fencing as Steve strokes bright red, bright yellow, satiny fronds that looks right in his hands.

“That’s insane,” of Steve’s response, more to the flowers than to Eddie.

Bur at the very least it lets Eddie get the snort he’d stifled earlier out as he deadpans:

“Gee, thanks.”

Steve looks up then. Petals still held delicate between deft fingertips.

“No, I just,” and his eyes are wide when he glances back down, releases the petals gently, makes sure they fall back to where they’re meant to lie. Pristine.

Precious.

Something pings like a plucked string in eddies chest, underneath where he’s due for a sunflower to appear real soon

“I mean, loving you would be such a,” Steve looks up and locks with Eddie’s eyes:

“A privilege.”

More plucking in Eddie’s chest for that, Jesus fuck. The sprouting of a petal above the sensation. Quicker; more urgent—his heartbeat slamming like it’s pushing the blossom out all on its own.

Eddie doesn’t know what to make of that, save maybe that’s how this works, when the reason for it all is standing in front of you, spouting…this.

This.

Then Steve’s glancing around a little more, taking in the varietals on display a little more intently before he adds:

“Flowers or no flowers.”

He says it almost a little breathy, but. It might just be Eddie’s imagination.

“I never really understood it,” Steve goes on, apropos of everything but still kinda out of nowhere all the same. “Like is it supposed to be a, a modern day dowry or something? But it’s not worth money which, I guess,” he licks his lips, and Jesus H, he’s so fucking beautiful.

Terrifying, but beautiful.

“That would be better, really,” Steve decides with a gentle little smile. “Means more.”

It means…everything, really. Steve means everything.

Flowers or no, he already did. And now, it’s…Eddie kinda appreciates the terror. He loves knowing, having tangible proof of how his heart’s that set, and unwavering with it.

“I wished for it. As a kid.”

Eddie tilts his head as Steve lifts a while sunflower—the one flower especially that Eddie knows gives full weight to the who of all this.

As if there was any question.

“So many times,” and Steve’s burying his face a little in the massive head of the flower—they don’t smell like much, Eddie’s learned.

But he kind of thinks what they do smell like, really is sunshine.

“Can I,” Steve swallows, straightens, looks hopeful, nervous.

Beautiful; terrified.

“Can you, just,” he clears his throat, and extends a hand; “cane you come with me somewhere?”

As if it’s a question. As if it’s ever been a question.

His hand’s in Steve’s between heartbeats.

“I need to show you something,” Steve whispers, but his smile is…golden.

The car ride is silent, but they done let go. Eddie gets led into the Harrington house, up the stairs, farther down the hall than he ever really goes.

He understands why once the door to one of the last rooms is opened, and as he’s led inside.

“Steve…”

He takes in the fragrance; he takes in a puzzling cross of chaos and maze-like intrigue in raised flower beds under greenhouse lights. It’s like a puzzle, a game, on a rich-boy budget.

It’s two lives, laid out in a single beautiful testament.

“I didn’t always love to garden, just always wanted to,” Steve murmurs low; terrified—but so so warm; “wanted to feel enough, to garden.”

Eddie turns from taking in the intricate lines from a bird’s eye perspective, appreciating how it draws him in, like it, like it’s for—

“Who,” he chokes around the question he can’t help but ask, hope to big and goring, a bubble set to burst through his ribs:

“Who’s it for?”

Steve leans closer, raises a brow.

“Eddie,” he says pointedly; it’s terrifying, how beautiful Eddie’s stupid simple name sounds in that voice, on that tongue.

Steve grabs Eddie’s hands again and walks the through the labyrinth slow, intentional, and eddies breath catches when it hits him: they’re all the same.

The flowers are familiar because their gardens are the same.

Save for one striking difference. A notable lack of yellow. But then—

Steve crouches a little, lifts a very delicate flower hanging from a broad-growing shrub, frames it in the hollow of his palm.

“What do they look like, to you?” Steve asks, but the answer’s fucking obvious:

Music notes. They’re, they’re…

They’re Steve’s garden’s sunflowers.

They’re the ones that make it undeniable, the answer to Eddie’s shaky-hopeful question.

But if they weren’t, if they somehow were not themselves enough—

Steve pulls Eddie close, close, closer.

Kisses his mouth as satin-sweet as a petal between fingertips.

And Eddie’s chest feels like it’s blooming every shade of loving, all at once, for the discovery:

He hadn’t even scratched the surface of just how much love he could feel. And there’s not terror in it, now.

But there is so much more beauty.

✨permanent tag list: OPEN (lmk if you want to be added/removed): @ajeff855 @allmyfavoritethingsinoneblog @anthrobrat @askitwithflours @awkwardgravity1 @bookworm0690 @bumblebeecuttlefishes @captain--low @depressed-freak13 @disrespectedgoatman @dragoon-ze-great @dreamercec @dreamwatch @dreamy-jeans137 @estrellami-1 @friendlyneighborhoodgaycousin @goodolefashionedloverboi @grtwdsmwhr @gunsknivesandplaid @hiei-harringtonmunson @hbyrde36 @imhereforthelolzdontyellatme @kimsnooks @live-laugh-love-dietrich @madigoround @mensch-anthropos-human @nerdyglassescheeseychick @notaqueenakhaleesi @ollyxar @pearynice @perseus-notjackson @pretend-theres-a-name-here

divider credit here and here

[cinderflower]

.

I hate that I can tell when my work stress starts to tank my mental state and I hate that it all overlapped with MalMiq week, but man this week has been the worst in a very long time. Pretty exclusively in regards to the communities on bluesky and twt (truly a cesspit) not so much tumblr, but man it has been so utterly and completely discouraging to put my all into a community event and put my best foot forward to support the other artists (I left a few comments but not as many as I planned to, I do want to circle back and leave more when my brain is less shit) but it just so rarely seems to be reciprocated. And I know that I'm not owed anything, I should support because I do genuinely support - and I do! - but it'd be a lie to say that it doesn't feel bad to not get that same support from the actual community in return.

Like, I get it, I'm a mediocre artist and writer on my best days because they're just my hobbies, and especially on twt the talent there is insane in comparison. But even with my expectations set so utterly low, it's just been a bit surprising how little people engaged with my work comparatively. I don't know. Am I worse than I think I am? Is my art that unpalatable? Especially the day 1 art, that's the one I was most proud of even if I couldn't execute it as well as I wanted, and it flopped harder than even the art/fic for Kintsugi.

As for fics, I know I personally am very proud of Kintsugi and I spent an obscene amount of time on it, but the only other fic of mine that flopped this hard this fast was Hypnagogia (ironically another fic I was super proud of). So at a point it's just like, is the fic fandom space truly so dead? Or is it me? I know I've really fucking struggled with writing up to my normal quality standards with how dreadful the brainfog has been, but I didn't think it had dropped that much in quality. Like I used to get at least some feedback.

I don't know what my point here is other than just to vent I guess. I know this is definitely worse because work has been utter hell this week and I am at an all time low. Well, that and the AI hellscape and US pol fascism nightmare. But art is supposed to be a conversation but it's so god damn hard to put myself out in the fandom space and earnestly try and community build only to be met with nothing.

If you made it this far, even if you don't like my fics or art, or they're not your speed - try to engage with artists and writers you do like. Especially the smaller ones, or the ones who draw or write "taboo" art. We're sitting at a table when we post our art/fics, inviting you to sit down with us and talk about this thing we both clearly like, but what's the point if everyone is too afraid to take a seat? If everyone just walks by, takes the art/fic from the table in silence, and scurries off to shove it under their bed and never speak about it?

(to the people here specifically on tumblr who I do interact with a bit more regularly, thank you, your support genuinely means the world to me and does truly motivate me to keep publicly sharing my works)

[smthliminal]

So, she wasn't a lawyer yet had lots of experience with contracts. That only intrigued him further. Isaiah knew well enough that it wasn't likely he'd guess her profession so he didn't want to waste time attempts. "Fair enough," he smiled, eyes inquisitive, "what is it you do then? My brain is working on the not law yet seen plenty of contracts. You don't strike me as someone in sales —" And he couldn't even say why that was. Sales people just had a little something different about them.

While Zey wouldn't disagree that someone didn't already have their phone out to document the scene he didn't want to end up as background to someone's video. He too began to look around for a camera and his green eyes shot in the direction she pointed out and sure enough there they were. "Ah man, I'm actually a little disappointed if this was all just an act to get some views. You know?" It wasn't that he genuinely wanted people in strife, Zey was just tired of everything being for likes and followers. Still, he had humor of the situation and smirked at the woman he found himself in audience with. "Should we ask for their handle so we can check if it's posted? Maybe they can tag us." He didn't have TikTok. "I'm curious as to what everyone thinks happened," Isaiah mused.

Even if he felt a little too invested in what her answer might be Zey leaned in a little closer to gather her idea and nodded, he'd been thinking the same thing. The woman surprised him with her share, though. It was always a bit of a nice thing when you were on the receiving end of something personal from someone else. Everyone was looking for connection, right? "Damn, how'd he react then? What'd he do?" It was shameful that women had to go to such lengths for safety. That they worried too much about reaction to do such a thing privately. "And you filmed it on top of being in public? Sounds like you found out he was a narcissist or something to that effect." When she turned the question on him, Zey looked back to the arguing couple and then slight shrugged when his eyes met hers again. "I was thinking the same. Maybe it popped off because he got a text and she asked about it. You know?"

Zuri smirked, her arms crossed, her just hovering casually at all the action. "Lawyer? Nah, not in the least." She paused a beat on the word, poking her temple with a pointer finger. "But I have read enough contracts to know when one is about to get screwed." Guarantees, disclaimers, and the fine print and what not.

She turned her face back to the argument, as unobtrusively as she could. "Someone is definitely recording this," I bet there is already a TikTok live stream underway," she joked. Her eyes wandered around the crowd, and found the familiar spark of a phone held against the light. "See? The internet is about to have a field day with this one."

And her voice lowered a bit into something more conspiratorial and just enough of a lean to be interesting.

"As for what started it? It could be anything...If I were to guess I'd say public breakup gone wrong. I can speak on this because I once broke up with a guy in public thinking he was more likely to walk away quietly than make a public spectacle. I was wrong," she said, sharing way too much. "So what's your guess?" She asked, looking back at the male as she raised an eyebrow.

[somany-fandoms-solittle-time]

In A Sentimental Mood: A Ruggie/Yuu Oneshot

Some quick Housekeeping! This was originally meant to be a song-fic but the only time I remembered to/felt inspired to write was nearly the middle of the night (as writers do lol) so I didn’t have enough mental energy to splice the lyrics together into the story. Instead, I listened to the song on repeat while writing, like, HALF of the fic but I thought it was cute enough to fit the vibes. The narrator's voice and descriptions were hard to keep consistent as well as concise, but whatever. I don’t think I properly matched Ruggie’s speech pattern but I think it’s close enough to ‘random, working class teenager’ for now.

Also! It’s an X Yuu but I’m pretty sure I used all GN! Pronouns so please feel free to read it as an X Reader (who’s the Ramshackle Perfect). It felt kinda awkward to not describe the character or use open descriptors (like Y/N, HC, etc.) but feel free to add any notes or styles to try out for an open reader audience. Honestly feel free to comment or message any feedback lol! I don’t have a beta reader atm (I might ask either my gf or my IRL friend who’s also into TWST) but it could be fun to have a random stranger react to my writing so they’re disconnected from personal feelings and whatnot.

 I have a fic introducing my oc a little interacting with the Pop Music Club, but it’s making out to be longer than expected so between writing for my own AU/ocs story I’ll be posting cute lil song-fics as well as crackhead interactions lol! Maybe a few headcanons as well. I’m not sure if I would have ever actually started writing fanfics (or writing in general) instead of simply daydreaming about it if it wasn’t for @twst-beam and @krenenbaker , so a quick dedication for them for lowkey lighting a fire under my ass. Not only have you opened the creative floodgates, but actually gave me the motivation to actually TRY and put it into action. Anyway…. ON TO THE STORY BITCHES!!! ENJOY THE THE SWEET HYENA BOY (who weirdly looks exactly like my Boyfriend, lol) AND COME REALISH IN THE CHAOS~

In A Sentimental Mood:

A Ruggie/Yuu one-shot

It had been a long day. Scratch that–it had been the longest year of Ruggie Bucchi and Yuu’s life! However, there was something especially trying these last 24 hours. Maybe it had something to do with how this was the first day off the both had (that lined up) in w e e k s and they STILL BOTH got called in to run some nonsensical errand. Or maybe it’s because when the First Year Squad were supposed to be babysitting Grim the entire first floor of Ramshackle got absolutely trashed. 

Something about stupid bets, idiotic magic competition, and a prolonged chase. Afterwards, Rugs and Yuu had to help clean up! The aftermath of the wreckage was too much for the Hodge Podge group of freshmen.

What really topped the day off was the mission impossible scheme the couple failed to pull off. Originally, the two were simply planning to “borrow” on one Leonas (numerous) credit cards while the latter was passed out for an all-expenses-paid date out. It’s not like they were about to rob the second prince blind! Just a few trips to their usual thrifting stops, maybe hassle with a local boutique and then some semi-fancy free grub. 

Instead they got caught two shops in when they decided to grab some food before being totally weighed down by paper shopping bags. Since they had a later start, Yuu suggested getting dinner to the new uppity wine-and-dine.

“C’mon Rugs~ When are we gonna have another chance to dine like Kings? And on a Royal Dime at that!” they foolishly (but successfully) tempted the poor Hyena into a little more Mischievous than the two realized.

Too bad their Dinner Date got cut short from one of the waiters recognizing the Sunset Savannah Royal Seal on Leona’s card. It took an hour and a half of being corralled into a backroom, 3 ominous threats of calling the police, snarky back talk and just general arguing before Leona strutted into the Restaurant and vouched for his underclassmen. Seeing the lazy Lion not only WAKE UP, but come off campus was a bit of a surprise for the thief couple. 

What wasn’t as surprising was his smug, diva face while declaring that they would need to pay him back for disturbing his nap. After hasty, and admittedly sheepish, promises to the Prince, he collected his missing card and strutted back to campus. Luckily, he was secretly a bit of a softy towards his unofficial Vice and the magicless Perfect that saved his life (and probably his status for not ratting him out to his older brother). It’s safe to say while making the switch a decent stack of Thaumarks was placed in Ruggie’s wallet.

So yeah, in a word, the day had been a bit of a shitshow. A clusterfuck of misfortunate events (and if it weren’t for Leona, Yuu and Ruggie would not only be in some kind of jail but also flat broke). 

But finally–finally–this hardworking hyena Beastman and the Ramshackle Perfect were about to have some peace and quiet! A moment for just the two of them. A small, precious moment late at night. After the longest night of their collective lives, the two were able to cuddle up and appreciate what they had. Even if all they had was encompassed by long, tiring days and horrendous luck… and having the bend to the whims of some of the brattiest Divas of NRC.

Regardless, this time isn’t about them. It’s about Ruggie Bucchi and Yuu enjoying what left they had of their day off, Damnnit!  

“Ya’ know,” Yuu hummed into where their face was buried for max comfort; Ruggie’s chest. “Today wasn’t a total bust.”

Ruggie snickered sarcastically as his left hand paused its petting motion through his significant other’s hair. He was clearly only humoring his lover's thought process, yet paying attention all the same.

“I’m just saying it wasn’t a total loss,” they began to half-jokingly argue, “I still got to spend the day with you. Besides, you gotta admit it was pretty funny watching that stupid manager’s annoying face drop when Prince Grumpy strutted in all pissy!”

“Shee Shee Shee! Fair enough, Sugar! Good thing he didn’t realize Leona’s always cranky… or that His Majesty~ was mostly just pissed he had to wake up.” Ruggie answered playfully.

“It was kinda sweet of him for letting us, mostly, off the hook though. He even let us keep our goodies along with that sneaky bonus,” Yuu mentioned while lazily motioning towards the small mound of shopping bags and the miscellaneous items inside.

“Pleeeease~ He probably spends more on a single earring than we did with his card and cash combined,” Rugs pouted enviously. To emphasize his pout, he completely encircled Yuu with his arms and clutched them tightly. He was hanging onto them tighter than a swiped snack from the cafeteria on Doughnut day.

“I don’t know,” his partner giggled in response, “Leona’s been such a softy lately… but his whole dark and brooding reputation gets in the way a bit.”

“Dark and brooding?” Ruggie snorted, “Dunno if Leona’s habits of lyin’ around counts as dark and brooding.”

Yuu tried to suppress their elated smirk at feeling the slight tremor of quiet laughter. “True, that’s more of Mal’s stick isn’t it? Angsty and depressed?”

“Nahhh, that’s Idia’s thing! Also, I still can’t wrap my head ‘round you calling Malleus by some nickname.” His laughter died down as he scrunched his nose at the thought of his partner so buddy-buddy with one of Twisted Wonderland’s most powerful mages. And a crown Prince… with servants and castles and-

“You do realize that Malleus is like a GIANT kid right? I mean, yeah he’s some super powerful wizard-”

“Mage!”

“...whatever. He’s an absolute beast when it comes to magic and whatnot, but he’s got this whole ‘homeschooled only child’ vibe going on and honestly? It’s a little pathetic, in a cute stray way.”

Ruggie didn’t really know how to feel about his partner’s revelation. On one hand, he knew they were just friends and had befriended each other longer before Yuu realized Malleus’ status. That didn’t necessarily make it any easier to cover up the inherent inferiority or the slight unsettling fear. Good thing they didn’t feel the usual pressure of this world’s social ladder… but that doesn’t mean they won’t start worrying if he stayed lost in thought for too long.

“.......what was your world like for you to turn out so weird?” 

“Hey!”

Ruggie continued to laugh, but it came out a little bit strained. Yuu finally glanced up in order to catch a glimpse of their boyfriend’s adorable pout.  His lightly scrunched eyebrows and the way his ears seemed to fold-in on themselves made him look like a grumpy puppy. Absurdly cute, but clearly bothered, and they both had had such a long day t wouldn’t be right not to cheer him back up!

“Oh, c’mere!” the Perfect said through teasing giggles as they flipped Ruggie over to switch positions.

Rugs was currently (and quite contently) snuggled face first into his lover's chest; enjoying the sound of their heartbeat along with the comfortable extra cushioning. His arms reached slightly down to wrap around their waist snuggly as the two pairs of legs naturally crisscrossed at the joints. The moment he fully relaxed was when Yuu started to softly pet his bushy hair and scratch along the base of his ears.

Pure Heaven.

“Were you getting grumpy because I kept mentioning Leona and Malleus?” the Perfect lovingly taunted now that he was trapped and attacked (with euphoric head scratches) in his weak spot. Truly, an idiots mirage of paradise.

“C’mon Sweet Cheeks! Ya Couldn’t’ve least let me keep my pride?” Rugs whined, quickly going back to frowning deeply but unable to hold it for long. There was no chance in all of Twisted Wonderland he could stay “upset” while his precious Dandelion Fluff’s fingers softly caressed his sensitive ears. At least he could cover-up the way he melted, burying himself further into their figure. Luckily, Yuu was already squeezing him closure with a burst of affection,

“Don’t worry, my silly Hyena, the only one I was focused on today was you. The only one I wanted to spend time with was you. And the only person I think of from dawn till dusk, and dream about the whole night through, will always be you, Ruggie Bucchi.” Yuu declared playfully, then slowly breathlessly serious with a sappy amount of affection as they watched Ruggie's tail wave faster and faster.

“Shee shee shee,” Rugs bashfully replied, “where did all that come from outta nowhere?”

Yuu wistfully sighed, “I guess I’m just in a sentimental mood.”

The two shared some playful hushed whispers until Ruggie had to turn his head to hide a yawn. His attempt was futile however, as Yuu caught it–but instead of teasing him over it they simply snuggled him closer and quietly sang an old, sweet crooner love song from their home world. Despite the long day, it felt blissfully short as the two peacefully drifted off to sleep in each other’s arms. 

[sunsetsandsunshine]

AHHH I'm so happy youre back to writing! I felt like the Rottmnt tickle community was dying there.

Been dying for a lee! Mikey Ler! Big bros fic.

~ 𝙿𝚕𝚎𝚊𝚜𝚎 𝚗𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚛 𝚍𝚊𝚗𝚌𝚎 𝚊𝚐𝚊𝚒𝚗… ~

❤️💜🐢💙🧡 𝙵𝚒𝚌 𝚛𝚎𝚚𝚞𝚎𝚜𝚝𝚎𝚍 𝚋𝚢: 𝙰𝚗𝚘𝚗 𝙽𝚘𝚗𝚗𝚒𝚎 ❤️💜🐢💙🧡

·̩̩̥͙＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚𝙾𝙷 𝙼𝚈 𝙶𝙾𝚂𝙷, 𝙰𝙽𝙾𝙽 🥲💔⁉️ 𝚃𝙷𝙸𝚂 𝙱𝚁𝙾𝙺𝙴 𝙼𝚈 𝙷𝙴𝙰𝚁𝚃 𝚆𝙷𝙴𝙽 𝙸 𝙵𝙸𝚁𝚂𝚃 𝚁𝙴𝙰𝙳 𝚃𝙷𝙸𝚂??? 𝙰𝚜 𝚕𝚘𝚗𝚐 𝚊𝚜 𝙸’𝙼 𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚜𝚝𝚒𝚕𝚕 𝚕𝚒𝚔𝚎 𝚁𝚘𝚝𝚝𝚖𝚗𝚝, 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚁𝚘𝚝𝚝𝚖𝚗𝚝 𝚝𝚒𝚌𝚔𝚕𝚎 𝚏𝚊𝚗𝚍𝚘𝚖 𝚜𝚑𝚊𝚕𝚕 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚆𝙸𝙻𝙻 𝚜𝚝𝚊𝚢 𝚊𝚕𝚒𝚟𝚎…𝚗𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚛 𝚏𝚘𝚛𝚐𝚎𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝🩷💝💕˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*＊·̩̩̥͙

𝙶𝚎𝚗𝚛𝚎: 𝙵𝚕𝚞𝚏𝚏

𝚆𝚘𝚛𝚍𝚜: 𝟸,𝟼𝟹𝟸

𝙻𝚎𝚎: 𝙼𝚒𝚔𝚎𝚢 🐢🧡

𝙻𝚎𝚛’s: 𝚁𝚊𝚙𝚑 🐢❤️, 𝙳𝚘𝚗𝚗𝚒𝚎 🐢💜 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝙻𝚎𝚘 🐢💙

𝚂𝚞𝚖𝚖𝚊𝚛𝚢: 𝙳𝚘𝚗𝚗𝚒𝚎 𝚒𝚜 𝚝𝚛𝚢𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚝𝚘 𝚝𝚎𝚊𝚌𝚑 𝙼𝚒𝚔𝚎𝚢 𝚑𝚘𝚠 𝚝𝚘 𝚍𝚊𝚗𝚌𝚎 (𝚘𝚛 𝚒𝚗 𝙻𝚎𝚘’𝚜 𝚠𝚘𝚛𝚍𝚜: 𝚙𝚊𝚛𝚊 𝚋𝚊𝚒𝚕𝚊𝚛 𝚕𝚊 𝚋𝚊𝚖𝚋𝚊). 𝙱𝚞𝚝…𝚒𝚝’𝚜 𝚔𝚒𝚗𝚍𝚊 𝚑𝚊𝚛𝚍 𝚝𝚘 𝚝𝚎𝚊𝚌𝚑 𝚜𝚘𝚖𝚎𝚘𝚗𝚎 𝚑𝚘𝚠 𝚝𝚘 𝚍𝚊𝚗𝚌𝚎 𝚠𝚑𝚎𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚢 𝚍𝚊𝚗𝚌𝚎 𝚕𝚒𝚔𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚢 𝚑𝚊𝚟𝚎 𝚝𝚠𝚘 𝚕𝚎𝚏𝚝 𝚏𝚎𝚎𝚝…

(𝙰/𝙽: 𝚈'𝚔𝚗𝚘𝚠 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚍𝚛𝚒𝚕𝚕. 𝚃*𝚌𝚎𝚜𝚝 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝙺𝚒𝚗𝚔/𝙽𝚂𝙵𝚆 𝚋𝚕𝚘𝚐𝚜 𝙳𝙽𝙸!!!) 

𝚃𝚊𝚐𝚜: @shut-up-jo @veryblushyswitch @someone1348 @pocky-dragon

@danineedshelp @jamiesgotchu @saturnzskyzz @savemeafruitjuice

@my-l0v3r-v3rse @mythica0 @titters-and-tingles

𝚆𝚊𝚛𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚜: 𝚃𝙸𝙲𝙺𝙻𝙴 𝙵𝙸𝙲!!! 𝙵𝙸𝙲 𝙰𝙱𝙾𝚄𝚃 𝚃𝙸𝙲𝙺𝙻𝙸𝙽𝙶!!! 

𝚃𝚆: 𝚃𝚒𝚌𝚔𝚕𝚒𝚗𝚐, 𝚌𝚞𝚜𝚜𝚒𝚗𝚐, 𝚜𝚒𝚋𝚕𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚋𝚒𝚌𝚔𝚎𝚛𝚒𝚗𝚐/𝚝𝚎𝚊𝚜𝚒𝚗𝚐/‘𝚋𝚞𝚕𝚕𝚢𝚒𝚗𝚐’ 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚖𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗𝚜 𝚘𝚏 𝙶𝚎𝚗 𝙰𝚕𝚙𝚑𝚊 (😵)!!! 𝙸𝚏 𝚊𝚗𝚢 𝚘𝚏 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚏𝚘𝚕𝚕𝚘𝚠𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚖𝚊𝚔𝚎𝚜 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚏𝚎𝚎𝚕 𝚜𝚘𝚖𝚎 𝚠𝚎𝚒𝚛𝚍 𝚝𝚢𝚙𝚎 𝚘𝚏 𝚠𝚊𝚢…𝙸 𝚜𝚞𝚐𝚐𝚎𝚜𝚝 𝚝𝚘 𝚗𝚘𝚝 𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚍 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚜 😅…

𝙰𝙻𝚂𝙾 𝚆𝙰𝚃𝙲𝙷 𝚃𝙷𝙸𝚂 𝚅𝙸𝙳𝙴𝙾 𝙱𝙴𝙵𝙾𝚁𝙴 𝚈𝙾𝚄 𝚁𝙴𝙰𝙳 𝚃𝙷𝙴 𝙵𝙸𝙲 𝚃𝚁𝚄𝚂𝚃 𝙼𝙴 𝙾𝙽 𝚃𝙷𝙸𝚂 𝚈𝙾𝚄 𝙶𝚄𝚈𝚂 𝙸’𝙼 𝙳𝙾𝙸𝙽𝙶 𝚈𝙾𝚄 𝙰 𝙵𝙰𝚅𝙾𝚄𝚁

𝚂𝙺𝙸𝙿 𝚃𝙾 𝟶:𝟷𝟿– 𝙸𝚃𝚂 𝙱𝙴𝚃𝚃𝙴𝚁 𝙰𝙽𝙳 𝙼𝙾𝚁𝙴 𝙵𝚄𝙽𝙽𝚈 🕺🏾✨ 

＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚𝙴𝙽𝙹𝙾𝙾𝙾𝙾𝚈𝚈𝚈𝚈˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊·̩̩̥͙

“MOVE YOU’RE HIPS, MIKEY!!!” Donnie yelled at his orange cladded younger brother. 

“I’M TRYING!!!” The box turtle yelled back, “DOES IT LOOK LIKE I’M SHAKIRA?!”

“WELL, YOU’RE HIPS DEFINITELY DO LIE BECAUSE I SEE NO FUCKING MOVEMENT!” The elder yelled in return which earned a loud snort of amusement from Leo in the peanut gallery; the slider enjoying the chaos and banter between Mikey and Donnie. 

It was a nice Saturday evening and the four brother’s spent the day just…casually hanging out, for no exact reason in particular. The brother’s just truly wanted to chill (for today…).

They did karaoke, binged movies, and y’know…just chilled. That’s what Summer was about: relaxation. 

Well…they were relaxed.

Until their nerdy scientist brother found a TikTok video that he quote on quote ‘Had to learn to get with the trendy trends for his likey likes.’

His words, not mine.

And so, he dragged Mikey into it because the dance required about two people (and Donnie wasn’t trying to make it seem like he was lonely). But sadly and not surprisingly, the young scientist has been trying to teach the youngest the choreography for about…3 hours.

3 hours. 

Let that sit with you for a second. Let that marinate. 

And let’s just say…Donnie’s patience wasn’t exactly the best. Especially when it came to dance. Plus, this dance wasn’t even hard! All that was required to do was move your hips and do dramatic hand movements like some stereotypical blonde ordering an overcomplicated Starbucks order!

In conclusion: not hard at all! 

And Donnie knew he wasn’t raised with a piece of cardboard! Mikey knew how to dance…!

…To an extent, anyway…

“It’s not my fault I’m stiff!” The youngest whined which only caused the second oldest to simply scoff, rolling his eyes with sass, “Well it’s gotta be someone’s fault.”

“It’s probably Draxum’s.” The slider suggested. 

“I concur. It is probably Draxum’s fault.” Donnie agreed, “Anyway, stiff or not stiff, I need you to learn how to do this dance.” The box turtle groaned again at the comment, “Why me though? Why can’t you just do it with Leo or something???”

“Me and Leo already learned the dance!” The softshell huffed proudly, “We learned, practiced and recorded it all yesterday.” 

“Twin type shit.” The second youngest added on, sending Donnie finger-guns. 

“Twin type shit.” The purple loving turtle amusedly agreed, not doing the same hand movement but just doing an awkward thumbs up which Leo couldn’t help but giggle to. 

Raph, who was sitting next to Leo on the couch scratched the top of his head a bit, pondering slightly. “Why don’t you try doing a different dance?” The eldest suggested, “Y'know…maybe one that doesn’trequire so much hip movement…?”

“Like The TikTok Rizz Party dance!” Leonardo happily suggested, standing up excitedly which only earned hard glares from all of his brothers. The second youngest rolled his eyes at the looks, putting a hand on his hip, “Oh, don’t look at me like that. You gotta admit: it’s simple to learn.”

“It’s not a dance— it’s a freaking demon ritual.” The snapping turtle deadpanned. 

“Same difference...” Leonardo huffed, sitting back down next to his older brother. Raph sighed impatiently, rubbing his temples like a single Mom that worked two jobs (sorry not sorry for that reference), “I’m too young for all of this bullshit…”

“Raph!” The youngest suddenly wailed, “Aren’t I moving my hips???” Mikey whined impatiently, demonstrating the dance which got a small stifled giggle from Leo. The leader in blue got up, covering his mouth to try and stop himself from laughing as he went to the kitchen to get a glass of water. 

The eldest turtle grimaced, trying to hold back his laughter as well, “You’re…You’re moving something…” 

“He’s moving his fucking chest and shoulders…” Donnie explained, “Which are nowhere near your hips.” 

“Again: The Tik Tok Rizz Party is still an option.” Leonardo happily said as he went back to the lounge area and started to do the quote on quote ‘Tik Tok Rizz Party’ dance. The purple loving teen inwardly cringed as he watched his slightly younger brother’s antics, sighing sadly as he covered his face. 

Of all the individuals he had to be twins with…

“Sit your hyperactive ADHD ass down.” Raph demanded as he grabbed Leo’s shell with his hand, forcing him to sit back down.

“Anyways. Angel, I want you to move with your hips!” The softshell emphasized again, going behind Mikey and squeezing his hips to demonstrate how and when the youngest was supposed to move them (since the box turtle was apparently having an issue separating his chest from his hips).

Y'know, stiff people problems. Something Donnie couldn’t possibly relate to nor understand. 

“EEP-!!!”The youngest suddenly squealed, his face morphing to one of giddy panic, “D-Deehee! Noho stahahap!”

“I am helping you with your atrocious dancing, you buffon! Now stay still!” The second oldest huffed, squeezing the shortest turtle’s hips again. 

“You’re 'helping' tihihickles!” Mikey complained, holding onto his scientist brother’s wrists in a small attempt to stop him. Which didn’t…obviously. But it was worth a shot. An A for effort some might call it. 

Donnie tried to stifle his giggles, raising a confused brow, “Oho, my helping tickles, now does it? How is that even possible, my dear younger brother?” 

“Wahait w-wahahait dohohon’t— *squeal* nahahaha!” Mikey laughed, throwing his head back on Donnie’s shoulder as his knees gave out, trying to retreat unto the floor but his older brother only followed him as he did so.

“Don’t? Don’t what~?” The second oldest turtle asked incocently, scribbling his fingers against the other’s sides. The box turtle curled in on himself on the carpeted floor, kicking his legs back and forth. 

Donnie snickered, “Dude, I’m genuinely asking! What do you mean 'don’t'~?” 

Michelangelo just hugged his middles as he squirmed and screeched, giggling his small little heart out as his older brother tickled him. The young scientist sighed dramatically, sitting on the youngest’s legs as he stopped tickling him for a moment. 

“Hey, guys?” Donatello said as he turned to the red and blue duo sitting on the couch, “I miiiiight need some help over here. I’m feeling ignored by this one— he’s not answering me.” He deadpanned as he jabbed the turtle below him in the side, causing the youngest to sound like a overpowered drill screwdriver fusion. 

“Say less.” Raph grinned, going over to the PB&J duo as Leo quickly followed right behind. 

Okay…well, this hang-out-with-your-brothers-just-because-you-can hangout was turning left veryquickly. Perhaps that’s what Mikey gets due to the fact that he was spinning left and Donnie was spinning right…

Even though the purple banded turtle told him numerous times to turn the other direction, the youngest didn’t feel like listening. I guess he now knows how the second oldest feels when Mikey doesn’t pay attention to his 4 hour yap sessions.

As one smart, tooootally not demented 21 year old said: Karma’s a bitch. 

The box turtle squealed loudly as his other brother’s approached next to him and sat down. The youngest immediately retracted into his shell as panicky giggles from him echoed around the lair. 

The three older brother’s collectively groaned, knowing they’ve alllll danced this dance before. “Ugh…I hate when he does that…” Leo complained dramatically as he crossed his arms across his plastron. Raphael cracked his knuckles, his grin widening, “Don’t worry, boys. I got this.” The red banded turtle put the Mikey in his lap, blowing a raspberry directly on the youngest’s stomach. 

The reaction was almost like the speed of light as the orange banded turtle immediately erupted into loud mouse cackles, trying to wriggle his way out of his older brother’s iron grip although now that he was caught in the lion’s den…his attempts of escaping were now futile.  

“WHAHA— *squeak*?! NAHAHA?!?! *Squeak* RAPH RAPH RAHAHAPH!!!” Michelangelo giggly sputtered out, his laugh raising a pitch as Raphael refused to take any breath’s on the raspberry and just continued and continued. 

And Mikey knew Raph. For heaven’s sakes, that was his brother. The paint loving turtle knew (definitely NOT from experience) that Raph would not take a break unless the orange banded got out of his shell. 

“WHYHYHYHY???” The orange banded turtle cackled, his limbs and head coming out of his shell as he tried to glare at his brothers, which they all couldn’t help but awe to. “Awe, there you are~! Now this is definitely a fair fight!” The gentle giant happily exclaimed, removing his head from Mikey’s stomach. 

“ThIHIs ihis ahan ahamBUHUSH!!!” 

“Same difference.” Leo shrugged, squeezing the box turtle’s ankles repeatedly. “NAHAT THEHE FEEHEEHEET!!!” The orange banded turtle cried, kicking his legs around to try and make Leo dislodge his grip on his ankle. “Jeeheez…I didn’t eheven doohoo anything yehet!” The slider commented smugly.

“Guess it tickles that bad, huh, Mikester~?” The blue banded turtle teased. 

“BEEHEE QUIHIHIET YOHOU AHAHASS!!!”

Leo dramatically gasped at the rebuttal, gently pulling his little brother’s toes back and scribbling his fingers all over his arch. “That is no way to talk to your beloved older brother!” The slider lightly scolded. Donnie, who was next to Mikey nodded in agreement, his fingers pinching all over his littlest brother’s ribs, “I think someone needs to be taught a lesson…” 

“NOHOHAHAH! IHI DAHA— *squeak* DOHOHON’T!!!” The box turtle protested, swatting his hands on Raph’s arm like a drunk jellyfish. “And hitting too?!” The blue banded teen announced, “Your reeeeallyasking for it…” 

Raphael raised a hand, wiggling his fingers near Mikey’s neck. The turtle in question paled, “NAHAT THEHE NEHEHECK!!! YOHOU GUHUYS IHI ACTUALLY CAHAN’T DOOHOO THIHIHIS PLEHEHEASE—“

“Your neck? Oh, what a great idea!” Donnie smiled sweetly, one of his hands dancing around the right side of the fake dancer’s neck as Raph dipped his head in the other side. “IIIII…gitchie gitchie gotchu~!” The gentle-giant teased, rubbing his face back and forth in the crook of the youngest’s neck. 

Mikey let out the most inhuman screech to ever exist in between his cackles, shaking his head and scrunching his shoulders desperately, “LEHEHET MEEHEE GOHOHAHAHA!!!” He squeaked. 

“WHYHYHY MEEHEEHEE?!?!” The box turtle whined despreatley through his laughs, unable to do anything but just lay in Raph’s lap and just take the tickles at this point in time. 

Speaking of, WHY was he getting tickled by his big brothers in the first place again??? What the hell did he even DO to deserve this torment? They all just basicslly jumped him as if he had money on him or something!!!

And for the record: Mikey in fact did not. This time at least. 

He borrowed some cash from April last week but immediately put it inside of his piggy bank the second he got home. Since he knew either one of his greedy grubby hand brother’s would snatch that cash cash money cash cash right away…

But…wait.

What was Mikey pondering about again???

“Because you’re the youngest.”The blue loving teen simply said, “Aaaaand we just gotta tickle the heck out of you ‘cuz you’re just so cute~!” Leo cooed playfully, his hands squeezing and prodding at Mikey’s knees. 

“Not too much now, Leo. You’re a baby brother too.” Donnie commented smugly. “By two seconds!!!” The blue banded turtle pouted, glaring at the soft-shell. The soft-shell in question chuckled at the angry face expression, kneading Mikey’s hips mercilessly. “Two seconds that makes you the second youngest. And a baby brother.” He taunted, grinning at the annoyed look that his younger twin was giving him. 

“What are you guys going on about? You’re all baby brothers.” Raph exclaimed.

“So are you!” Leo huffed, “April exists, y’know!”

“GUHUHUHUYS!!!” The youngest screamed, trying to get his siblings attention as they bickered. “Hm? What’s wrong, little bro? Did the Tickle Monster find a bad spot~?” Raph asked, now blowing raspberries at the orange banded turtle’s neck. 

“YOHOU— *squeal* FAHACK!!! GOHOH AWAHAHAY!!!” The box turtle screamed. Leo rolled his eyes fondly, scoffing lightly, “You love this so don’t even, Miguel.” 

“Why should we go away~?” The eldest fake pouted, tickling Mikey under his chin lightly, “Is this a bad spot~? Is that why? Yeah~? Awe, what a shame…” 

“PLEHEHEASE BEEHEE QUIHIHI— *squeak*!!!” The youngest bellowed, “STAHAHA— STAHA—!!! PLEHEHEASE AHANHTHING BUHUHUT THAHAHAT!!!”Mikey purely went into silent cackles, happy tears falling down his face as tiny mouse squeaks followed. “IHIHI *squeal* SURRENDER!! GUHUYS PLEHEHEASE *squeal* I’M *squeal* GOHOHONNA DIHIHIE!!!”

The three brother’s removed their tickling hands, ceasing their attack as the youngest wheezed out remaining laughs breathlessly, “Ihi cahan’t breeheeathe…”

“Considering the fact that you are talking right now (which requires you to breathe), I think you’ll be fine.” Donnie commented, handing Mikey a glass of water which the youngest basically snatched and chugged in 2 seconds flat.

Freaking heathen…

“Did we go too far?” Leo dramatically gasped, going over and taking the orange banded teen from the eldest’s lap, squeezing Mikey in a hug and looking him over like he was a random exotic species specimen. “You're not dead...right? Oh man, Dad will literally kill me if I accidentally killed you…wait. That would make me the youngest. Oh well, I never wanted a younger brother anyway...”

“Hey hehey hehehey! Slow your freaking role! Ihi aham nohot dead!” The box turtle giggled, raising a brow at his immediate older brother’s antics. The slider sighed mockingly, “Had all my hopes up for nothing…” 

The smallest turtle rolled his eyes at the comment before having a moment of realization, “Whahat were weehee eheven doing agahain…?” Mikey giggly asked, resting his head against Leo’s shoulder as the slider rubbed his carapace. “Teaching you to dance.” Donnie sighed sadly, “But, alas, some things were just not meant to be.” 

Mikey glared playfully before landing his eyes on his scientist brother’s phone that was leaning up on one of the tables. “Dee! You were recording???” The box turtle screeched, hiding his face in his shell as the others laughed. “Don records everything, little bro. With or without his phone. So either way you were gonna end up being recorded.” Raph explained teasingly. 

“You never know, Mikejandro, maybe you’ll blow up on Tik Tok!” Leo suggested, “I’d call it: The Disgruntled Demise of a Box Turtle.” 

“Talk about word vomit…” The scientist mumbled under his breath, going to where his phone stood as his siblings bickered in the background. The soft-shell replayed some of the footage as he muted the video, smiling softly (get it? Soft-shell, smiling softly? I’m so funny you guys…) at the shenanigans that unfolded not too long ago. 

The second oldest chuckled softly (still get it?) to himself, putting his phone in his sweatshirt pocket as he went back to where his brother’s were sitting. 

“…Do you guys think I can fit 5 s’mores in my mouth?” Mikey suddenly asked. 

“Michael…please don’t do that. You could choke.” Donnie shuddered.

“Plus, you’re being a coward.” Leo added, “Try 10.” 

“I think 15 is better.” Raph grinned, “But it’s okay if you can’t do it. No one could ever beat Raph’s 25 s’mores record...” The red banded teen huffed out proudly. 

“…it’s ‘cuz you’re fucking rotund, man. No one would or could beat you even if we hired a whole football team to go up against you.” The art loving teen said. 

Raphael blinked confused, “Ro-tuh-wha—?” 

“He’s calling you fat.” Donnie giggly explained. 

Raph’s jaw comically opened wide in awe, hitting his littlest brother’s shoulder, “RAPH IS NOT FAT!!!” He shouted defensively. 

“Whatever you say, Jupiter…” Mikey retorted almost immediately as the twins completely lost it, the three smaller turtles soon descending into loud contagious cackles. The red banded turtle crossed his arms, glaring at them profusely, “You all are my 13th reason…” The eldest grumbled miserably, despite the soft small smile clearly evident on his face. 

·̩̩̥͙＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚𝙵𝙸𝙽˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊·̩̩̥͙ 

(𝙿.𝚂.: 𝙸𝚏 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚎𝚗𝚓𝚘𝚢𝚎𝚍 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚏𝚒𝚌, 𝚙𝚕𝚎𝚊𝚜𝚎 𝚛𝚎𝚋𝚕𝚘𝚐!!!)

[loderlied]

ok you know what because apparently so many people don’t know better

this letter ⬆️ is entirely fake lmao

[epiaphany]

scenes without music: 3x11 "i'm not really a guest" for @oprheuscas + two bonus scenes <3

[psychopomp-namine]

hmmm I get how people think that xia fei will fail to sever his deal with liu xiao, but I actually think it's the opposite? I think liu xiao will accept his decision and let him go very easily, but he'll leave him with final words that will make xia fei question if he's making the right choices ("if you see your friends' true colors" blah blah blah)

if xia fei is the pawn in the chess metaphor, him reaching the opposite end of the board would promote him to a more valuable piece, per chess rules. liu xiao wants more valuable chess pieces. why not let xia fei make more friends on the opposing team. "reaching the opposite end of the board" can mean many things. maybe xia fei dies, or maybe he just realizes the "mistake" of making friends with the opposing team. I don't think xia fei or vein will die, btw, but that's neither here nor there. in any case, the timeline will reset anyway when cheng xiaoshi dies

it's not that xia fei fails to stop his cooperation with liu xiao. he'll succeed, and then rethink it. xia fei, who hates owing favors; liu xiao, who sees a situation where xia fei may or may not feel indebted to him later on, in some capacity.

nobody really knows what liu xiao is doing at any time but personallyyyy I think it's more his style to let his "friends" come running back to him after realizing that his views on the world are right. so he lets xia fei go. it's fine. xia fei will come back to him later anyway, or he'll find some other use for him in another way.

to liu xiao, you don't coerce people into becoming your "friend." you make them "want" to be one. this is an exercise of agency for the other person, no? 😊

and we have a precedent for this too. after all, that's what happened to li tianchen.

one of these days, I really will make my "the curtains are blue" post about how the blue and yellow jacket wearers (li tianchen, xia fei, and cheng xiaoshi) are foils/parallels with themes of agency/autonomy and/or lack thereof, and liu xiao is the thematic intersecting point for all of them. but that's not the point of this post. I'll write them after YE6 in case YE6 changes my mind lmao

on another note. link click, I was promised a hohh TRIO so WHERE are my vein & liu xiao "friendship" scenes? you have ONE 🫵 episode left to show me something other than a phone call and liu xiao playing designated driver

[kyouka-supremacy]

(˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶)