#a poem for every winter day

[godzilla-reads]

—From A Poem for Every Winter Day edited by Allie Esiri

[usofj]

[fairuzfan]

Mutual aid for Palestinian artists in Gaza!

This video is a poem written by Palestinian poet @mariampoetry and sung by the amazing Gazan singer Reem from Gaza. The video is taken by Mahmoud Shamia of the destruction from the past year throughout Gaza.

My friend Mariam is fundraising again for many different Gazan artists and their families, including Reem's, and wanted to ask for your help in gathering $8,000 to help support them this coming winter.

After a year of daily massacres, so many Palestinians in Gaza are feeling hopeless and let down by humanity. But Mariam decided to do something and I hope you can help with her mission!

So many of her friends have left their homes in a hurry leaving everything they own behind. They're lacking basic necessities with most people becoming displaced more than ten different times. And with winter on the horizon, they need warm clothes and blankets, to help them weather the long, cold nights, and womens' hygiene kits all of which are incredibly scarce and expensive.

Mariam has asked me to help with her efforts to collect funds for 8 of her friends and their families. We are hoping to send $1000 for each family to help them prepare for the harsh winter in tents amidst constant bombings.

Please help her out by sending money to her paypal @/miriampoet

As always, I will be updating you with funds collected every few days. We are setting the goal for $8,000 dollars. Any amount sent will help a Gazan family through this extraordinarily tough time.

[silhouettecrow]

365 Days of Writing Prompts: Day 355

Adjective: Tired

Noun: Winter

Definitions for those who need/want them:

Tired: in need of sleep or rest, or weary; bored with; (of a thing) no longer fresh or in good condition; (especially of a statement or idea) boring or uninteresting because of overfamiliarity

Winter: the coldest season of the year, in the northern hemisphere from December to February and in the southern hemisphere from June to August; (astronomy) the period from the winter solstice to the vernal equinox; (literary) years

[idontmindifuforgetme]

november goals:

study hard

be kind

what other people think of u is none of ur business

no. seriously. give less fucks

read a poem every day in the dead of winter

compliment people more

watch more film. it’s fine

read more books. it literally nourishes ur soul

be hot

hit the gym consistently

take walks in the freezing cold

failure is okay as long as ur trying

[sugawhaaa]

SEONGHWA HEADCANONS

Christmas with Seonghwa would feel like...

Warnings//genre:: fluff, I think that's it...

Pairing:: seonghwa x fem!reader

A/N:: sorry this is really short 😭 I might add to it here and there and you guys can comment your ideas too!! I just find with this christmas series is that I repeat myself a lot, like I feel like a lot of these idols would have similar ideal Christmases

🎧::

♡-Seonghwa is a cozy Christmas lover. To him, Christmas is all about the homey decorations, presents under the tree, and cuddling with some hot cocoa and Christmas blankets. It's all about the experience of Christmas.

♡-hwa loves to dance with you around the tree or on the sidewalk in the street. He likes taking you to Christmas markets, festivals, and parades, just really basking in the festivities with you.

♡-decorating the Christmas tree on December 1st with festive music and warm lights throughout the house. He loves to make popcorn, hot chocolate and est candy canes during the decorating.

♡-the decorations are all strategically placed to give the best view for the eyes.

♡-Christmas crafts and baking with him 🥺 he would specifically love it if you got him a Christmas Lego set and he would build it with you every year to put on display.

♡-he'd do a lot of cheesy romance things like write your names together in the snow with a heart around it.

♡-he loves it when you use him like a human furnace. Cuddles during the winter is the specialist thing to him, like the two of you are the only warmth needed for survive the winter.

♡-I think Seonghwa would lowkey spoil you with gifts but not expect much in return, he's pretty chill with what he has and though it is the thought that really counts, he has so much money that he has everything he wants.

♡-some gifts he would think of for you is of course things around your general interests like shows you like, books you read and so on. He'd get you an album that you've been wanting or the newest one they've made if you don't have it. Also he'd make you open it in front of him praying that you pull his pcs. Hwa would gift you a lot of cute things too, something like a taba squishy or that type of "kawaii" products. Of course skin care>>> no makeup though, unless you specify exactly what you want. And since he's a sappy baby he'd write you a letter or poem to fully express himself. He would read it out, his hands trembling softly but the sincerity in his eyes shows his hidden trust.

♡-ginger bread house is a must. Though he'd love a Lego one something is so special about making a gingerbread house together. He'd get one of those classic kits to make with you.

♡-matching ugly Christmas sweaters...that's it.

♡-cringy Christmas photos together, like those full body ones you take by the Christmas tree with your family on Christmas day 😭

♡-loves to sing your favorite christmas songs for you 🥺 even if they were ones he's never heard of he'd learn it and have a christmas karaoke night with you just to show off what he's learn to you

[gay-dorito-dust]

Could I request Welt, Dan Heng, Sunday, Gepard, and Argenti finding their s/o's poetry collection of them?

Argenti:

Would sit himself down somewhere nearby and read every last poem, each one leaving him with a full heart, butterflies in his stomach and another addition to the list of reasons why he adored your creative soul.

He’s extremely honoured that you decided to chose him as your muse for your poems, for he could feel the love and respect you have for him through your writing, before holding the collections of poetry made in his name against his chest as he beamed with happiness.

He’d even openly praise you for your works if he were to see you later on in the day, which would make you understandably upset and embarrassed that he went through your things, but with the way that he passionately talked about your writing and the look upon his face that clearly shown his appreciation and admiration for poetry.

At the end you’re the one who ends up being flustered whilst Argenti was still sending appraisal after appraisal your way, all the while re-reading your works and proudly reciting his favourite passages without shame.

Sunday:

He thought it was sweet that you write poetry about him.

He didn’t feel as though he was invading your privacy at all, seeing as how he’d like to claim that whatever of yours was now also his by osmosis…totally not because he’s fishing for stuff to hold over you and maintain control should you act out…

Anyway- he’s taking his sweet time reading each and every poem you’ve written with him in mind and smiling at the hold he’s taken within your heart, finding it fascinating what adoration could make one do just to express their whole array of emotions.

It was almost as though they were on some timer that others couldn’t see just to express all their innermost feelings towards the special person in their life. Then again love tended to make people feel as though they were invincible, so the unthinkable and accomplish things that they never thought that they were capable of achieving in the first place.

So it didn’t matter whether or not you were able to wax poetry before him, but it was obvious to Sunday that the moment he had taken hold of your life and your every thought, poetry has became your primary outlet for feelings that you weren’t nearly brave enough to say aloud to him. Rest assured however for that day will come for you to open up about those unspoken feelings of yours…sooner or later.

Gepard:

He feels as though he was invading your privacy by reading your poetry collection and wanted to leave before he’d inevitably get caught, but just as he was about to take his leave, he stopped when the title of the first poem caught his eye;

Everlasting winter

He found himself reading through the first few opening sentences and immeditly made connections between himself and the person within your poem. To say it didn’t take long for Gepard to realises that the similarities between him and the person in your poem were purely intentional, and that he was the one the poem was actual about.

His face was blossoming red upon the realisation and averted his eyes elsewhere as he takes in the fact that you found him a perfect enough muse for your poetry. Him, the man who couldn’t hold a tune to save his life, grows flowers that unfortunately don’t last long, and wasn’t possessed with the basic skills of drawing.

And yet you found something about him that was worth writing poem after poem about. He didn’t know why that was but he was appreciative that you found something in him that urged you into written it down on paper, where your affection and admiration for him would be forever immortalised…He also may or may not have taken a poem to read to himself later on at night.

Dan heng:

He had noticed that you left a piece of paper laying about one day and was about to call out to you and give it back, while scolding you for leaving your messes everywhere for him to pick up after, only to see that it was in fact a poem about him.

Red faced, Dan Heng still planned on taking the poem back to you and journeyed to your room where he found that the door was left ajar, but could immeditly tell that your room was empty. Sighing, Dan Heng opened the door and quickly made his way towards your desk, where’d he found more poems in regards to him.

Much like Gepard, Dan Heng felt as though he was reading something he shouldn’t but he found himself unable to look away as he was secretly tempted to know how you viewed him. What he found was nothing short of you portraying him in a way that he’s never quite thought of himself before. If he wasn’t already so easily made flustered by your words alone, your writing was enough to put the poor man into a catatonic state.

Dan Heng wasn’t use to being smothered in a love like yours. Where you felt as though speaking your love for him wasn’t nearly enough, so you had to expand and start writing it instead in the form of poetry. He doesn’t feel as though he’s deserving of it but isn’t going to look a gift horse in the mouth and is more then willing to try to accept the fact that you care deeply for him; especially when he can not find it within him to find anything about him remotely worth being with.

Welt:

He’s made copious amounts of drawings of you that he’s kept hidden in his room. So upon coming across your poetry collection about him, it only made him feel more comfortable knowing that he wasn’t the only one to express his innermost feelings through an art form.

Besides it wasn’t like he was actively searching your room for your poetry collection, he really wasn’t as he just came across them out of pure coincidence. He was currently about four poetries deep and was finding it extremely endearing how you viewed him in most of your writing: which was mainly as an well educated, wise man with a young man’s heart and restlessness sense for adventure, who had a talent for drawing.

Welt would chuckle under his breath at all the moments you’ve shared together, before you’d then went on to write about how beautiful he was in every possible way. From his sweet, insightful eyes that seemingly held all the knowledge you could ever ask for, to his calming, velvety voice that could lull you into a deep sleep within seconds.

You posed him as this figure of comfort, a figure of warmth and Welt soon finding himself not so subtly sneaking some of your poetry into his pocket to read for later. Your poetry only gives Welt the confidence he been looking for, as he would then starts to leave his drawings of you in places where you’d be able to see them; all in hopes that you would know that you had just as much of a huge place in his heart as he did in yours.

[inkskinned]

i know some of the poets outside of their books, like cameron awkward-rich; who was my seminar teacher for a semester in grad school. you know him, he wrote about keeping his hand on the walls of his stupid heart. he gave us a journal without lines in it, so the pages were all blank and naked. we had to write down 3 words every day, ruminations on our own lives.

in pink glitter pen, i watched my handwriting cramp and spill from pristine and well-meaning to the slant of someone deeply suffering. the words stopped being lyrical over the course of february. bad, it said. bad and bad and bad. each day carving out a little bit of marrow, the sparrow of my heart acting as roadkill. that winter i was only allowed to eat apples, like a horse. my ocd had decided i could only touch food if it was red. i was sleeping on the floor and a spider bit me.

i wanted him to be my thesis advisor, but it was covid the next year, and we never spoke again, and i'm worried that i embarrassed myself by asking him repeatedly. for my final project in his class, i wrote about my disability. i called myself a rat, fondly.

his most famous poem is titled Meditations in an Emergency. i didn't know it until three weeks after i had graduated from that university.

at one point, he sat me down after class just to discuss some of my work. it was a night class, and we were all a little drowsy. he blinked up at me. i think sometimes the way you see the world is a little bit alarming. i wonder about that, in hindsight. i wonder if all of us who are walking on thumbtacks always recognize when someone else's spine is the undulating form of a siren. i could see it in him and you can see it in me, if you're looking.

yesterday nat said some of this is worrying.

i told cameron i was fine and i told nat i was fine, but i think maybe all of us had learned a long time ago how to be fine the way a poem is fine - because it happens outside of you. it can be honest, the confession, but it cannot be spelled out across your ribs. we make our art so that the sorrow can hang, limbless, trembling on the fetid walls beside us.

you learn to turn the ugliness into some kind of work, because you must smash the entire human experience of your stupid bones and teeth and tongue into something, so that you have anything to show for it. otherwise, what is the fucking point. why were you suffering, if not to polish the runoff and say - the melancholy is the signature of my art. i took the splinters out of my gums and filed them down into a thesis. the thesis has been turned into a book which is getting published.

cameron, to my knowledge, still has not read it.

i hope he has found his way out of the maze. i hope you and i one day write our own lanterns. i hope we are able to find some kind of peace without viscera. without having to fight for it. i hope we are able to stumble without falling. i hope one day the sky is empty of vultures and we can cross the desert of our memories without starving.

in the meantime we get up and leave the circled shadow in the writing.

[totothewolff]

The Lonely Hearts Party

Toto x reader fem!merc!employee, boss|Toto, Valentine's Day | Fluff, romance, and comedy.

Summary: For weeks now, you have been receiving the most gorgeous flowers every Wednesday morning at your desk at the Brackley Headquarters, as a mysterious admirer seems so in love with you. The entire factory, your besties at work, and you all wonder who he is. Could it be the one you truly wish for? Author's note: Happy Valentine's Day to all of you! Send you lots of love. Masterlist: Here

The most beautiful flowers have been arriving at your desk every Wednesday morning for almost a month now. Every week, as you reach your office in the early hours, they are already in place to welcome you. 

You love smelling them; they are always fresh and sweet-scented, and you love to look at them even more.

You feel a rush of excitement to read the handwritten note that always comes attached, filled with a different poem paragraph each time, something along the lines of "She walks in beauty, like the night, of cloudless climes and starry skies; and all that's best of dark and bright."

Every girl in your department finds it so romantic, the mysterious admirer, but you and your besties at work, Rose and Oliver, who work in the same station that you, joke about finding it a bit creepy. 

"The Creepy Flower Guy" is a nickname you came up with to refer to him as an inside joke, being the three of you true crime enthusiasts.

—Maybe it's one of those garden gnomes HR placed outside —Oliver jokes as he finishes eating his scrambled eggs after you told them about the new Lilacs you received that morning at the breakfast quick break. —Perhaps he fell in love with you by watching you walk past —he jokes.

The hilarious idea of a tiny plastic guy sneaking into the headquarters, wearing his little red hat and fast feet to get incognito to your office, and on his tiptoes, placing the flowers on your desk makes you giggle.

You have to give it to HR this time; those gnomes were a great addition to the garden's pond; every time you sit on the benches near it, you enjoy the new scene the mechanics or engineers put together every few days, having fun moving the gnomes around or placing them in the funniest scenes, even someone during winter knitted them Christmas sweaters.

—Or maybe one day we'll find you dead on the floor, poisoned in your desk after inhaling azaleas for too long —Rose adds with the most casual tone as she bites her sandwich.

—Or you go missing! Kidnapped at the parking lot by "The Creep" —Oliver adds. 

—GUYS! —Ava turns around after overhearing the conversation; she is sitting at the same long table in the cafeteria, not getting your usual dark humor, a bit concerned, and creeped out. —You three need to cool it down with those goddamn crime podcasts!

—NEVER! —all of you answer at the same time.

—You freaks!

As you all finish breakfast, in a rush because the "off-season" is always the busiest time at the factory, you ask out loud. —Who do you think it is? 

—It's evident! It's... —Grace from the control room team starts saying.

—Lewis Hamilton! —and she finishes along with the other five people on the table now. 

Oh, the classic joke.

The entire table burst into laughter. It's a common joke to do about Lewis since almost every family member or friend thinks that working in the Mercedes racing team instantly makes you Lewis's best friend and that you always hang out with the guy, which couldn't be further away from reality. 

Most of you only see him in corporate gatherings or pass by from building to building, usually on his way to the simulator or in the hallways on a lucky day. 

He is always sweet and polite with the team and staff but quite distant; he still is Lewis fucking Hamilton. Unless you are part of his immediate team or Toto's, you get that privilege reserved for the key players only. 

Even so, almost everyone has a Lewis or Bottas story, and ALL of you have Niki's anecdotes cause that man is bonkers and a LEGEND. 

Most of them go hilarious as all of you try to act human around them, like the one Oliver has where he bumped into Lewis one day as Oliver was getting out of the bathroom and Lewis was on his way in, offering him a completely wet hand to introduce himself, which Hamilton noticed and sweetly and quickly patted Oliver on the shoulder with a "nice meeting you, man" and quickly got in.

—REAL theories only, guys! —you address the table. —Is my life a joke to you all? —you mess around, getting on your feet and closing the lid of your topper. —Please don't answer that.

-

Another week goes by, and a new stunning bouquet arrives. 

—Oh, how exquisite! That man is so into you. Those blue mophead hydrangeas sure are expensive! —the receptionist points out to you because you are a total flower ignorant who only goes: "Oh, pretty, colorful, smell cute" without giving it much thought. 

Most of the time, you have no idea what you are looking at, but you have fun googling it and trying to decipher; in your defense, no one has pampered you like this before. 

You are brand new at the getting flowers game.

-

The following week, a couple of bets start happening at the building as the word spreads, and many wonder who the mysterious guy is. 

Some think it's not a guy but a girl, as one day after a meeting, as you all are leaving, one of the engineers approaches you and makes the clever remark that the attention to detail about the type of flowers, the color palettes, and the scented notes is too much for a simple guy. —Either he is getting advised, or it's not a guy! Maybe you could obtain a reference from the company that delivers it.

This entire thing feels surreal and truly takes you by surprise since you have always considered yourself the most average girl, especially in looks and more so in the sea of beautiful blondes working at Mercedes.

Which, for some weird reason, reminded you of when you dropped your resume after one of your buddies from college - who still works there at the machine shop - gave you the heads up there was a job opening that suited you perfectly; he even had to insist you a couple of times, because you were almost sure they wouldn't give you a callback. 

To your eyes, Mercedes was one of those companies that cared about looks or looked for a specific ethnic type; it turns out you judged too soon; they care about skills, productivity, and professionalism, too, and it ended up being a bit more diverse than you expected the place to be.

It still has many areas for improvement, but it's become your favorite job ever.

-

By the end of the day, you wait for Rose to come out of her meeting to leave together, standing in the perfectly lit hallway leaning on the impeccable white wall; it's "Cheap Thursday" at your favorite local pub, and you two desperately need fuel to finish the heavy week, so nachos and a couple of pints sound like heaven.

After what feels like an eternity, a group of people comes out of the double doors by the end of the corridor facing you, and you catch a glimpse of a very hurried-up Toto getting out, too, looking handsome and elegant as ever.

You feel his dark eyes looking you up for the briefest moment, making you shiver and blush like a teenager in front of her crush.

Thank god he doesn't stop his pace and gets out of your view within seconds but leaves you distracted enough not to notice Rose approaching you till she is by your side, looking almost pale as a ghost, whispering in your ear. 

—I swear it's Toto's handwriting! I just saw him writing on the board for over an hour, and his calligraphy looks exactly like the one of "Creepy Flower Guy"!

—Come on?! Toto? Shut up! —a crackle comes out of your mouth, thinking it's the most ridiculous idea. —The billionaire smocking-hot boss falls in love with the average employee; what do you think this is? An 80s telenovela? Fuck off...

—Well, his handwriting is the same cursive style, and the "r" and "t" are almost identical —Rose starts to overexplain, trying to justify herself, looking timid and embarrassed now, and you instantly feel awful at your reaction.

—I'm so sorry, Rose, I overreacted; I tend to be too blunt! —you quickly wrap her into a hug.

—It's just that I have been seeing that calligraphy for a while now, and I found it freaky similar.

—Now, how can we make sure, Rose? Any ideas?

She shakes her head. —I'm not friends with his assistants or anyone on Toto's team.

—No one is friends with his assistants. I wouldn't be surprised if they turn out to be ex-MI5 agents or worked for the KGB —Rose starts to laugh hard, agreeing. —I think getting to the Prime Minister is easier than reaching Toto under their hands!

—You are screwed then. 

—Let's rule Toto out for the moment —you add.

—Yeah.

-

That night at your flat, a crazy thought comes to your mind as you brush your teeth; the wackiest thoughts tend to happen to you when you brush your teeth; you need to make yourself with a piece of paper handwritten by Toto to compare it with one of your notes.

You know Toto places sticky notes on the far wall inside his office; you have noticed those on your many and regular trips to the CFO's office as your boss always sends you to deliver the reports in person by the end of every week, always passing in front of Toto's office on you way there, which most of the time it's empty since he spends the year traveling, but you try to do your best when he is in, slowing your steps a little bit more to enjoy the view and fixing your appearance a little bit too before crossing in front of him. 

Still, his assistants are always at their front desk near there, making it impossible to sneak in. 

If only you could make it inside Toto's office without raising questions and with a good excuse. You laugh at the idea; it's wild and ain't going to happen, and if it does, your ass is getting fired. 

As the Mission Impossible cord from the ceiling scene comes to your mind, it's time for you to go to sleep.

-

As you anxiously roll from side to side of the bed, struggling to shut your brain off, you remember that Niki's surprise birthday celebration is scheduled in two weeks; you could volunteer to help organize the event and usher the people around, including Toto.

There is the slightest chance to make it to his office and take a quick photo of the sticky notes on the wall; it's borderline mental, but you really want to find out because Rose sounded so sure!

This is fucking insane. 

-

Two weeks, two new bouquets later.

When you finally reach the upper floor, where the "top-tier people work," almost everyone has left to get to the party on time. 

Being on time in Mercedes is a must, so there are few people you need to usher there.

You got accepted to join the Niki's celebration committee as a helper minion. Weirdly, it will be hosted in the base race of all places instead of the Silver Arrow Lounge, where most celebrations are usually held.

The decor is ready, the cake is at the counter, and the many photo props and snacks inspired by Niki's red cap are in place; even the catering and most of the people invited have arrived.

But Allison and Toto are nowhere to be seen, and the head of HR is on her nerves about it, thinking it could ruin the surprise or that two of the most influential people there are going to miss such an important event.

As you approach the bosses' offices area, you quickly search in the surroundings for them; it helps you that all offices have glass panel walls.

You venture to wander more, but nada, they are not there, and at this point, no one is there. As you return to the stairs, you pass in front of Toto's office once more. 

You just need to snap a quick picture. What could go wrong? No one is near to see you, and there are no cameras around since Toto dislikes that.

"Okay, Y/N, listen, it's just a couple of steps; you have your phone in your hand; it won't take more than a few seconds..."

You feel your body acting on its own and your feet slowly moving ahead. 

You gradually enter the luxurious and immaculate office.

"Okay, like four steps more, and I'm close enough to zoom in the picture." 

When you almost reach his desk and the perfect distance to snap the photo, you sense movement outside, fuck, fuck, fuck. You feel someone standing behind you, right at the door. 

Busted!

—Yes? Can I help you? —Toto's voice comes severe but calm.

You feel your heart in your throat as you slowly turn around. 

—Yes, you can! —you quickly reply, pretending to be looking at the cool helmets and steering wheels at the corner. Is it the best move your mind could come up with? Certainly not —...Sir... —you kind of finish saying, remembering he is the boss.

Toto stares at you, waiting for you to continue as you stand motionless in the middle of the room, looking straight at him. His eyebrows go up a little, and a tiny, amused smile forms on his lips as he moves his hand, gesturing you to continue.

—They are all waiting for you at the race base, sir... to start Niki's surprise reception. He is about to arrive. 

—And they sent you to get me?

—Yes —you feel the need to explain yourself more, feeling nervous. —Niki has no idea who I am, so I'm not blowing the surprise away if I bump into him on my way here! 

—Interesting... —he lets out gradually.

Oh god, Toto has no clue who I am either, right?

Fuck, I'm such an idiot!

—Oh, I, I'm Y/N —your brain starts working again as you quickly introduce yourself to him, offering him a hand to shake.

He looks even more perplexed at you but grabs it; it's awkward, and you want to crawl into a hole or hide beneath the expensive rug you are stepping on.

—We should get going; I have places to go, and I'm on a schedule today.

—Oh yes, of course, sir —you quickly exit his office as he closes its glass door behind you. Well, you literally pass below his muscular arm. 

Toto doesn't move much, so you squeeze in, almost brushing his body as you out, and he simultaneously closes the door, fuck, he is tall and smells so so so good.

-

It's a quiet walk downstairs; just the sound of your steps and breaths fills the room. You feel intimidated by Toto's presence, not used to having him that near you and being a shy-natured girl.

He seems to slow down his step, prolonging your agony. 

Should I say something? But what about? Work? Something casual? You assume he wonders the same since you feel his eyes on you every few steps, but he dares to break the ice before you can.

—So y..

—I'm To... Oh, sorry, go ahead —he says at the same time.

—Oh, no worries —you nervously place a strand of your hair behind your ear. He follows the movement of your hand with his eyes. —What were you saying? —you look straight at him, Jesus; he is way cuter up close; that's some strong jawline, you can't control your eyes going all over his features.

—That I didn't introduce myself upstairs. I'm Toto, by the way —he offers you a kind and unintentionally sexy smile.

You notice, a bit way too much, how all his traits soften and how relaxed and joyful he looks when he smiles.

It turns out that "The Creepy Employee Girl" should be your nickname now.

After perceiving him as less threatening, you joke around to make the air less awkward. —Really? I had no idea! I thought you were that Lewis guy everyone talks about! But nice to meet you Toto By The Way —you fool around.

He laughs a bit. —You never heard of me before? I guess I'm losing popularity around here nowadays!

—You must hang around more to be part of the "popular squad".

—Who holds the title right now?

—The gnomes.

—Oh, yes, they are quite popular.

—A bit too much, yeah.

As you two reach the entrance to the race base, he rushes his step to hold open the door for you, letting you go first; you feel his intense gaze follow you every step as you pass right across from him, making you feel things he shouldn't. 

Everyone who got invited is already there; the usually squeaky-clean and clear white counters now hold cups, party hats, bottles of champagne and sparkling water, delicacies, and a big red cap-shaped cake.

—Great! The boss is here! Please, bring Niki in —you hear the HR director speak through the intercom as she looks your way, sounding so relieved, and a minute later, all of you start cheering as Niki enters the room.

You expect Toto to instantly leave your side and go near the big names of the company and his precious stylish drivers, but no, he stays right next to you.

As Niki almost reaches you two, getting hugs all his way down, he comes closer to Toto first and says in a low voice, but you are still able to hear him. —Is the cake vegan?! —looking concerned before tightly and roughly hugging him, knowing they would call him to blow out the candles and bite the cake soon.

—No, sir, this time they brought Lewis his own cake —you inform him, getting in the conversation, as the two of them turn to look at you.

—Oh, thank god! I almost spit out last year's "fake" cake! Hi Y/N! I didn't notice you there! This mountain was on the way —he pats Toto's chest a bit too strongly. Niki makes a funny face, eyebrows going up, not sugarcoating around as usual but earnest and light-spirited.

You laugh, exhaling cute sounds; even you have to admit you have a lovely, infectious laugh.

—Hi sir, happy birthday!

How on earth does Niki know my name?! He knows who I am?! WHAT...

-

—...the fuck were you thinking?! —Oliver looks shocked and pale as you update him and Rose about your little adventure today. —You honestly thought it could be Toto?!

—Can a girl have a dream?! —you shrug as you keep typing violently on your computer, wanting to finish that notice as soon as possible to move on to the next task, starting to feel stressed.

—You could have got into serious trouble, like big trouble, like getting fired trouble —Rose says, dead serious. —I feel terrible for enabling you!

—I know it was reckless and stupid, really stupid! —you admit, feeling dumb now about your actions.

God knows what got into you!

-

The next day, on your way to the cafeteria for lunch, you sense something is going on; everyone is acting weird.

Until you enter the room to find Toto having his meal in there, alone at a table, aware of the looks he is getting.

What is he doing here? He usually goes out for lunch or eats inside his office.

The fuck.

He waves a hand at you; you look around to see if he is addressing someone else till he arches an eyebrow, slightly annoyed, so you hurry up to reach him.

—Well, you weren't wrong! By all the looks I received on my way here, and fairly now, it appears I don't hang around much —he invites you to sit, stretching his arm, pointing to the chair in front of his, before continuing. —It wasn't unusual to see me everywhere before; of course, it was the early days, and we were a smaller team back then —he almost looked sad and nostalgic about it.

—Look at you, man of the people!

—Eat your salad —he rolls his eyes at you as you get your lunch out.

—Is that like a boss order, or?

—Maybe, if I'm feeling moody. 

—So, I guess most of the old guard is gone?

—Are you low-hand calling me old?

—Well, how ancient are you?

—I'm almost 70 —he makes you smile and looks all pleased with himself and his dumb humor. —I know, I look good for 70!

—Who would have thought you had a sense of humor? You always look severe and bossy.

—Can you stop low-key insulting me?

—Neva'

-

After two weeks of having lunch with Toto and getting to know each other more every day, you two become friends; some days, a different person joins you; at some point, you can't believe you are sharing quinoa recipes with Lewis and comparing drinking pub stories with Niki.

—Is it me, or have you abandoned us, the peasants? —Oliver says to you when you return to the office.

—Oh, come on! You can join, you know that! He knows who you two are; we talk about you guys a lot, and he greets you daily!

—Now that you are part of the "big farts" table, hanging with the famous, why would you care about two random coworkers? —Rose overdramatizes.

—OH COME ON!

—Apparently, you don't care about the old and wise saying "Bros before hoes," —Oliver adds.

—Of course, I care about you two hoes. Please join us tomorrow. PLEASE?! —you beg them with the biggest smile and puppy eyes ever seen.

—Eating with the boss and talking to him? I'm not risking it! —Oliver says, dead honest, not trusting himself.

—He is trying to reconnect with the team; he isn't going to judge you! Besides, Toto knows you are my besties.

Two long "aw" come your way.

—That's so cute, but NO! —Rose ends the conversation.

-

As you admire the new bouquet of tulips you get delivered the next day, your phone suddenly buzzes on your desk, distracting you from finishing updating the chart with the latest data.

—Lunchtime already? 😩🥙

—Who this? 👀

—Luke, I'm your father.

—He dead 🙏🌫️

—Oh, shit, sorry! Bad joke!

—💀💀💀

—There's no need to be that explicit.

—It means dying of laughter!

—Oh, shit, I'm old, it's Toto By The Way.

—I'm saving you with that name! How did you get my number?

—By boss privilege.

—YES! LET'S LUNCH PLEASE! I'm Hungarian.

—What?

—Typo sorry, hungry!

—HA! See you in five! 🏃‍♂️🏃‍♂️

-

—Could going to lunch with someone at the cafeteria be considered a date? —you turn around in your office chair to address Oliver.

—Dreaming is free, bestie!

-

On your way to meet Toto, you bump into the most annoying senior engineer, Mr. Schäfer, in the corridor. 

OH GOD! Please don't talk to me, please don't talk to me, you think as you two cross paths, but sadly, you notice him stop his step after making eye contact with you.

—Miss, Y/LN. A minute?

SHIT!

-

—Sorry I'm late! "Gwen Stefani" got me on my way here!

—Who? —Toto looks at you, amused and confused.

Shit! You burped out.

—Ahem, Mr. Schäfer —you quickly correct, taking your water bottle out of your bag and drinking it after rushing there. Toto stares at the couple of drops that escape your lips and slide down your chin and neck, and he swallows hard.

—What did you call him? —Toto asks, clearing his throat.

—Oh, don't mind me!

—Yes, mind you! It's a pretty accurate nickname, I must admit it, even if I shouldn't, but it fits —Toto shrugs nonchalantly, with a chuckle on his face. 

Schäfer is really pretty, lean, blond, pale, has big bambi's brown eyes, and his voice is so annoying.

And now you feel embarrassed.

After a few minutes of comfortable silence, as you two eat, Toto says: —Do I have a nickname?

—Oh, no, no one dares.

—Why? Do people fear me? —his expression changes to one of concern. —Maybe that would explain why people always seem to slow down their pace in the main corridor as soon as they see me inside the elevator. I always try to press the hold button to wait for them.

—This leaves me with a question: How do you fit in there? Your hair sure is touching the ceiling —he looks at you with an "Are you kidding me?" face. —No, for real!

—Don't avoid the actual question!

—Okay, okay, it's more like you intimidate. You look a bit, ahem, stern.

—Really? So, that was your first impression of me?

—Well, not really —you feel your cheeks turning red, fuck. —The first time I saw you, IRL.

—Sorry?

—In real life! You were being interviewed at the reception on that pearl/grey, awful porn movie-esque rug, which is inappropriate to say because the interviewer was a kid; anyway, It was something adorable to see. So that was my first impression of you, sweet and kind —his eyes soften at your answer, and you feel your knees touching beneath the table. —And also well lit —you joke. 

As you do your best at not being honest and admitting to Toto, you fell in love with him the first time you saw him. It was instant.

—Oh. 

-

Another week goes by, February starts, and the most stunning bouquet to this moment arrives. Okay, this one is a lot. 

—Good lord, "Creepy Flower Guy" went full force with this one; what did you do to him?! —Rose asks, jaw on the floor as she stares at that humongous thing.

—I have no fucking clue.

—You think he is about to reveal himself? —Oliver points out. —Maybe this is a "going out with a BANG!".

—Honestly, I don't care much about it anymore —you admit. You feel several heads turning your way, shocked.

"It's not who I would like it to be," you think. You don't need to say more to know that Oliver and Rose get it.

-

That working day was cut short since it was the Monster-sponsored "Spartan Race," a cross-fit competition. 

Many coworkers listed at the contest held outside on the garden grounds where a fancy circuit got built, but not you. You volunteered to help deliver the medals to the participants at the finish line.

In the meantime, you take a good spot with Oliver to watch the competition unfold and cheer for Rose.

—You go, Rambo! —you scream at her as she completes another obstacle course.

You watch Toto pass in those goddamn shorts, looking so hot, all sweaty. Toto's shirt's tight fabric on the skin leaves little to the imagination.

You meet him at the finish line an hour later, as you are now doing your duty. As soon as he notices you, he starts to jog in your direction with the most mischievous smile.

—Oh no, no, no! Don't you even...! —you receive the biggest and tightest hug from a sweaty, wet, and full of dirt and mud Toto.

—OH GOD! Get off! —you pull him away, making yucky faces.

—I was hoping to bump into you at the circuit! —he tells you, still with a lot of energy, as you place his gold medal on his neck, he is bending to your height.

—I'm not that sporty; you would have to drag me to the finish line.

—I would have gladly carried you around in these powerful arms! —he jokes while flexing.

You roll your eyes at him.

-

The next day, at your desk.

As you blast the newest episode of your favorite crime podcast, Rose and Oliver start making eye contact with you, trying to grab your attention, moving their eyes several times to the left as you take out your AirPods.

—WHAT?!

—Sure, those things cancel noise! I have spent about an hour trying to talk to you!

Oh shit, you jump a little at the sound of Toto's voice near your ear.

—Were you listening to a murder podcast? At work?! You are going to hurt your ears; I was able to hear it from here —Toto is leaning on the left side of your desk.

—Maybe... I was... —you look at him with squinted eyes, and he looks back at you the same way.

—What is that thing?! —Toto says, a bit disgusted at the exuberance, pointing to the enormous bouquet beside your computer.

—It's a long story —you try to avoid the subject.

—I want to hear it when I return. I will not join you at lunch today or the rest of the week.

—Bummer, where are you going then? —you turn in your chair to face him.

Everyone looks at you with a "Did you really ask the boss that?" face.

—Austria, It's my mom's birthday.

—Aw, sweet, wish her a happy birthday for me!

—I will —you look at each other tenderly, both wanting to say more. You suddenly feel the desperate need to hug Toto, but a simple: —See you next week, then! —comes out of your mouth, ending the interaction.

-

It's almost Valentine's Day, and Toto has returned from his little adventure in the mountains; he laughs when you text him that. You two talked even more than usual every day during his absence.

So you text him if you could go up to his office.

—Knock, knock —you say as you pop your head in at his door.

He brightens as he sees you, fully smiling at you, making your stomach feel butterflies. 

—Please, come in!

You approach his desk, holding something in your hands; it's an envelope with an invitation in the old-fashioned way. —Hi! —you smile big at him. —I have the obligation to invite you to the traditional "Lonely Hearts Party" on Valentine's Day!

—No one wants the boss at an outside-the-office party —he looks at you a bit taken out.

—Yeah, I know, we know. But still, you are invited. It's for singles only, assuming that you are single, which no one thinks you are, so here —you feel Toto's hand touching yours as you deliver him the envelope, leaving you with a lingering sensation on your fingers, a very Elizabeth and Mr. Darcy moment in your delulu mind.

—I'm going to be in Brazil, but thank you anyway, and yes, I'm single —he pays attention to your reaction to his words, and you pray for him not to notice the little happy smile forming on your lips. —Are you... are you like... seeing someone? —he asks you.

—I'm going to attend the Lonely Hearts Party, you think?! Listen, my neighbor, Miss Tailor, is 80 and has a boyfriend; even that old rag has seen more action than me this year!

Toto's palm goes onto his face, bursting with laughter; he is laughing so hard at your comment that no sound comes out of his throat, just hallows of air, and he goes all red, not believing your words. —You are quite something! —He lets you know and looks at you with adoration, his face resting on his hand and his elbow on the desk. 

—I know —you nod, kidding. —Anyway, have a nice day, and see you later!

-

During that day's lunch break, Toto demands you to explain to him in detail all about that "Creepy Flower Guy," he even ventures to guess who he is after listening to the whole story.

—Milo, Ben, and Ansel all have stared you down when you walk past in front of them, with lust obviously, and I heard Finn once complimenting your good looks to say it nicely —he informs you.

Is that jealousy you detect?

Toto does pay attention.

-

It's Wednesday, and your car is out in maintenance, so you make it extra early on that day at the office; you wanted to avoid risking it being late since you aren't used to using public transport to get there.

You make it just in time to witness Mike walking away from your desk inside your desert office through the glass panel wall from afar. As you walk to your chair, you notice new flowers are already in place. You feel your heartbeat going full speed and a wave of disappointment washing you over; what were you expecting, for it to really be Toto?

That entire day, you remain all moody and quiet, and your friends notice it, but you say nothing about it.

You even ask your boss to leave early, being unable to handle being near Toto today, which leaves him worried, judging by the four texts and two missed phone calls you received from him, wondering where you are and if everything is okay.

-

Four days later, you are like nothing has happened. As you walk your way to enter the building where you work, you notice Toto sitting alone in the distance, having a call; you slowly start to walk toward him, switching paths.

He finally has returned from his trip to Stuggart.

—Well, the "Creepy Flower Guy" saga has come to an end, my friend; I found out who he is —you inform him, unenthusiastic, as you sit on the bench in the pond's garden right next to him.

—You don't seem so excited —Toto's eyes look slightly concerned as he tells you.

—Well, no, to be honest.

—Drumrolls —Toto says, trying to lift your spirits, slapping his thighs, making the sound. —And the creep is?!

—Mike, from financial.

—Magic Mike?! —Toto lets out a bit too loud.

—Yep!

—Are you sure? Like 100%? But how?!

You nod. —I saw Mike near my desk in the early hours a couple of days ago, and the flowers were there as he was walking away from the crime scene! Also, by the drawer full of flower receipts at his office desk. They all match the types of bouquets I received and have the exact dates.

—Are you creeping around in people's offices again?

—WAIT A MINUTE! I wasn't creeping into your office! 

—Oh no? What were you doing near my desk? Looking for Niki's cake?

—Shut up! I was looking for you. 

—Yes, I love to hide myself in there —Toto playfully and softly pushes you. 

—And NO! I wasn't creeping around in Mike's office; Anita sent me to get the notice she needed, and I went there; it turns out Mike was on holiday, but he left the instruction to collect it from the drawer on his desk, and then I opened the wrong drawer and BAMB! It was full of receipts and bills from the flower company that delivered my flowers. Not to be nosy, but Magic Mike is doing pretty well; I had no idea how expensive they were!

—Wait! But you aren't telling me! Are you into Magic Mike? Do you fancy him?

—No, not him, anyway.

Toto stares intensely at you and wants to say more. If you weren't so in the zone, you would have noticed it and given him a chance, but no, you continue blurting out words.

—But I will go and thank him, I guess. I don't want to hurt him; he is lovely. Everyone told me to go out on a date with him. I don't feel like it right now, but it's not always love at first sight, right? Maybe that doesn't even exist; I was expecting to fall in love, you know, movie style, but that may not be real, or at least not for girls like me. Besides, Valentine's Day is approaching, and I don't feel like spending it alone again —you let out a sigh after talking forever.

—Weren't you going to that Lonely Hearts Party? It sounds fun. It's better than going on a date with someone you don't like just to feel better —Toto tells you a bit moody.

—Oh god, I love you; you are always right; you are so annoying —you add while hugging and kissing him on the cheek. —Is there any chance I can fit in your suitcase for Brazil? I wouldn't mind spending Valentine's Day with a hot Brazilian or at the beach.

Toto laughs while shaking his head.

—I have to go! —you complain, checking the hour on your smartwatch. —Unfortunately, I have work to pretend to do! 

—Sometimes I feel you forget I'm the boss here —he jokes with you as he crosses his arms and watches you walk backward, still facing him, getting further away.

—YES SIR!

-

It's the Wednesday before Valentine's Day, and to everyone's surprise, the flowers stop arriving.

"Did Toto tell Mike I don't like him and to stop sending me flowers?" You take out your phone to text him.

—Apparently, even "Creepy Flower Guy" gave up on me.

—Really?! —Toto replies.

—Yes. No flowers today.

He gives you no further information, no replying text comes your way.

-

It's Valentine's Day, and you are wearing a shiny red mini dress with matching bow heels to the Lonely Hearts Party.

You took your time doing your makeup, which you feel you nailed, and your hair looks sleek. 

As you check yourself in the mirror, you feel confident and hot!

-

After several drinks and enjoying the music and the vibe, you relish the party, but your mind keeps wandering to the anticlimactic ending of the flower guy mystery.

The only crime and murder here was the one of your feelings and heart.

Two hours later, you start to feel bummed out enough after witnessing many hookups and new couples forming, slightly envious of them and feeling lonelier than ever, aching that Toto was here with you instead of Brazil. You decide you've had enough and are about to leave when you feel a soft finger tap on your right shoulder. You turn around to see who it is.

Definitely, you aren't ready for the scene that greets you.

Toto is standing right before you, holding a bouquet in his hands, looking extremely handsome, with a shy smile on his lips.

—What are you doing here?! —you look astonished at him. Am I that drunk?! Thinking you are seeing things now.

—I felt like delivering them to you in person from now on —he offers you the roses.

Your brain takes its time to process his words and what's happening. This is really happening.

—You are? —you try to say and instinctively grab the bouquet.

—The Creepy Flower Guy, yes.

You laugh at the sound of the nickname on his lips.

—Let's call him "flower guy" from now on.

—Yeah, let's call him Toto better, or my love, if you prefer. I hope you aren't as disappointed this time.

—But Mike? —you ask, confused.

—Have you ever heard of the terms invoice and tax returns? He does my accounting, too. Mike helped me deliver the flowers till I felt ready to show myself. He is a long friend of mine.

—That's why he had all the receipts; that makes sense. Wait!

You close the distance between Toto and you and place a kiss on his lips; getting on your tiptoes, he slowly and hungrily starts kissing you more, wrapping his arms around your waist and pulling you closer, not letting you move an inch away from him.

—Thank you for the flowers, my love but weren't you supposed to be in Brazil by now? —you ask him as you both catch your breaths.

His lips are so soft and warm.

—Oh, I'm going to be in Brazil soon, but I forgot to mention to you that you would also be there. Happy Valentine's Day, my love! —he gives you another long and delicious kiss.

—Shouldn't I have packed? —you ask against his lips, already overthinking.

Toto shakes his head.

—We aren't going to need much clothes, anyway. -

Would you like to read another Toto fic? Masterlist: Here

Join us at The Wolff Pack Discord Server > https://discord.com/invite/tpgArxqbfd

[perfectlyoongi]

LONG-DISTANCE!NAMJOON who has your city in the weather app on his phone. as soon as Namjoon started talking to you and felt a little flower blooming inside his heart, he was quick to add your city to his app. seeing it every day, Namjoon made sure to always remind you to wear a scarf or take your umbrella with you. whatever the weather in your city, Namjoon was always ready with little pieces of advice and reminders to make your day better. “it’s going to be quite hot there today.do you have your water bottle with you? carry a fan in your backpack and stop for some ice cream before you get home. you deserve this treat.”

LONG-DISTANCE!NAMJOON who swears the only music that warms his soul is the sound of your voice. Namjoon was in love with you. in a way, your presence in his life had made the world a worthy place to live. you were like a ray of light in the grayest of days. with your laughs and stories, you could warm Namjoon’s heart even if you were miles away. and it was in your voice that Namjoon knew the true comfort of existence. being an eternity away from you, it was in your voice that Namjoon found true love. and there was no music or symphony that could compare with the melody of your voice. “talk to me. tell me about your day. describe the sky to me. say whatever you want, but speak. i need the calm that your voice brings me.”

LONG-DISTANCE!NAMJOON who offers you a set of cards titled ‘open when…’. the world was cruel and challenging, that was a truth known to everyone; as such, Namjoon tried to make your distance less painful by writing a set of letters for you to open at specific times. from a drawing of two arms for when you need a hug, or a recipe for soup when you want comfort, an extensive array of letters were delivered to you on a blustery winter morning — and you swore the sun came out the moment you saw that set of cards. “i think i planned every possible scenario. but if you need a card and don’t find one in this set, send a text. i leave everything to write you a digital letter, just ask.”

LONG-DISTANCE!NAMJOON who says he already missed you before he met you. when he met you, Namjoon felt at peace. for some reason, since the day he met you, Namjoon stopped being so heavy. it was as if you had brought with you the garden of eden that Namjoon delighted in from the moment he met you. in a way, Namjoon’s heart stopped bleeding when the two of you formed a friendship. and oh, when his flower expanded into bushes and trees, Namjoon could feel, for the first time in years, what true happiness was. “meeting you was like coming home after a long day of work. meeting you was a comfort i already knew but had never experienced. meeting you was meeting me for the first time. and i missed you and your soul so much.”

LONG-DISTANCE!NAMJOON who writes a song about you and the distance that separates you. it was more than obvious that Namjoon would express his feelings in a song — it was the only way he knew to alleviate some of the pain he felt. but unlike all the other songs, that one was just made for you. from lyrics to melody, the song was made from scratch, always with you in mind, wanting to show you how much he loved you and how unfair fate was for having put you so far away. “i wrote this song to ease the weight of my heart. it’s a simple poem about my feelings, but i want you to know that my entire soul is forever engraved here. and only for you.”

LONG-DISTANCE!NAMJOON who reads to you every night. fairy tales never sounded so innocent when uttered by Namjoon’s tender lips. telling you various adventures and love stories, Namjoon read to you every night before you went to sleep, hoping that his voice would be enough to bring you some comfort even though he was on the other side of the phone. with delicate words and graceful pronunciations, Namjoon lulled you into a deep sleep at the end of an extremely exhausting day — a reminder that he would always be just a call away from you. “today i want to do something different. when i went to the cafe, i heard a conversation between two strangers and i would like to repeat it to you. it’s about a flower’s love for water.”

LONG-DISTANCE!NAMJOON who left everything behind just to be able to hug you. Namjoon was at a stage in his life where only you mattered. yes, he loved his friends. yes, he loved his family. yes, he loved his job. but, oh, how he loved you. the world only made sense because Namjoon knew you existed; all light came from you, all happiness came from you, all life came from you. you were the world to Namjoon and he didn’t mind leaving all his other loves behind if it meant having you in his arms for the first time. “my heart was begging to come home. i really needed to see you. we spent a lot of time apart. now i’m here. now i’m home. me and my heart are at home.”

[beeing1alive]

Cute headcanons with Tokyo Revengers boys Pt.3

f.t.: Mikey (Manjirō Sanō); Draken (Ken Ryūgūji); Mitsuya (Takashi Mitsuya); Chifuyu (Chifuyu Matsuno); Baji (Keisuke Baji); Takemichi (Takemichi Hanagaki); Angry (Souya Kawata), Smiley (Nahoya Kawata); Hakkai (Hakkai Shiba); Kazutora (Kazutora Hanemija)

Mikey's hands are always warm. No matter how warm or cold it is outside, his hands are always the same pleasant temperature. In winter you can always warm your hands on his. However, his hands are also warm in summer, which means that in summer you can just intertwine your little fingers.

Darken usually has to leave the house very early, which means he never really has time to talk to you in the morning. That's why he always sticks a note on the mirror in your bathroom. Every day it says something different, but usually something like: "Have a great day, be safe, I love you -Ken"

Mitsuya organises a photo shoot for the two of you every few months. One of these couple photo shoots, and it's always super fun, especially because he already knows all the photographers. The pictures that come out are always so cute, and he prints out the best of them and puts it in his wallet.

Chifuyu insists on showing and introducing you to every animal in the pet shop. After closing time, he walks through the shop with you hand in hand and enthusiastically shows you all the animals. After a few months, you know every animal by name and its characteristics. He just loves animals, but he loves you more, he just can't help it.

Baji has got it into his head that he wants to learn how to cook. That's why he suggested that you cook something together at least once a week. He would like to pursue this habit but sometimes he just can't make it, but at least one evening is always reserved (if he can't make it, he feels bad and brings you something from out of town)

Takemichi regularly puzzles with you. He just finds it super relaxing, he already enjoys doing puzzles on his own, but it's a thousand times better with you. You usually watch a film or listen to your favourite music on the side. He could spend hours doing it. Just not having to think about anything, with you close to him.

Angry has a playlist with you, which is full of your favourite songs. He always pays attention to what music you listen to and when he sees how much you enjoy a song, he will immediately add it to this playlist. When you listen to music together, he always puts this playlist on and seeing you enjoy every song makes his heart melt.

Smiley introduced you to his brother first. He just cares what Souya thinks of you because he knows that his brother has a much better sense for healthy relationships. His heart skips a beat when he sees Souya talking to you enthusiastically, his face relaxes a little and he nods to him, and even if Souya didn't like you, he would have loved you.

Hakkai always left one thing in your house when he was with you at the beginning of the meeting phase. Whether it was a hoodie or a packet of chewing gum, just to make sure you'd see each other again. He always made it look like it was accidental, but it never was. He just always wanted to see you again sometime.

Kazutora writes you poems. When he goes to class for you, he usually gets so bored that he starts scribbling sweet words for you on a random piece of paper. Sometimes his texts stretch over several sheets of paper, it's just so easy for him to write how he feels about you. Much easier than telling you, he prefers to show it.

Note: I hope you like it and my requests are open. If you want to read the other parts, here is P.t.1 and here is P.t.2 :3

Attention: The characters and the gif do not belong to me. All credits go to the actual owners. If you want anything to be changed or removed, please write to me.

[violentdelightsandviolentends]

Rest Had Seemed The Sweetest Thing.

Bucky's slowly learning that love isn't a finite resource. aka, Bucky's first Christmas.

pairing - bucky barnes x female reader

warnings - none!! just tooth rottingly sweet fluff <3

word count - 1.7k

author's note - based on these two requests!! i'm also trying a new post format... what do we think?? I promised you i'd get a couple of xmas fics out before the 25th... I lied. apologies!! forgive me. title taken from the poem The Owl by Edward Thomas.

as always, if you enjoyed, please reblog!! reblogs are the only way to circulate my fics. thanks, angels <3

masterlist. inbox.

He whispers the words, timid and reserved, directly into your ear as if he's worried someone else will hear. It's only the two of you sat on the couch in your shared apartment, but Bucky's nervous.

Your head whips around in shock, trying to play it cool. Failed.

"Are you... are you sure?"

"Yeah, I'm sure."

You grin, big and blinding, the beams of it radiating into Bucky's bones. It settles into his muscles, eases the tension from his shoulders.

You try not to make a big deal of it, try to keep your excitement under wraps. But you've been waiting for him to say those words for almost six years.

"I want to do Christmas this year."

✵  ✵    ·　 ✵ 　　 *  · ✵

He hates the cold.

No, he's traumatised by the cold.

Years spent frozen, genetically modified and locked in a glorified freezer. Every gust of wind, every flake of snow reminds him of the darkest days with no light to be seen. His blood may run hot, but he feels like his heart is yet to thaw. He debates moving to the desert at least ten times a day.

Then he looks at you. How happy you are when winter comes around. The way your face lights up when it snows. And he figures that if it brings you this much joy... maybe he can tolerate it.

He bites back the chill, grits his teeth at the icy breeze, ignores the shudder of the cold all the way down to his bones. He grins and bears it, because you love it. He thinks you don't notice.

You do.

You've known ever since you met him. His demeanour changes when the winter comes around. He gets a little tentative around the autumn time, as if he's preparing himself for the worst. And then the first snow falls, and he's different. Guarded. Careful. Reluctant. He puts a fake smile on his face and pretends, but you're nothing if not completely in tune with everything Bucky Barnes.

You never asked, never pried. Just stood steadily by his side, regardless of the walls he'd placed around himself. Around his heart.

He broke down one night, wrapped up in bed with you. A chill had blown through your old apartments rickety windows and unearthed old memories, ice running into his veins. He was sure his tears were frozen as they dripped down his face.

You understood him better, since that day.

You've tried to suggest moving in subtle and not so subtle ways, but he won't have it. He knows this is your home. He knows you like it here. He knows he can stay, if he works a little harder on himself.

So, he tries. Every single day, he tries. And that's all that matters.

✵  ✵    ·　 ✵ 　　 *  · ✵

"Okay, so... ground rules. Hit me, Buck. We do this on your terms."

He thinks for a moment before turning to face you.

"I want it to be just us. No one else."

"Done."

"And I don't wanna do the whole Christmas dinner thing. Feels like too much all at once."

You fight the urge to burst into tears at how easily he's communicating with you, how effortlessly he's enforcing his boundaries. You've come a long way.

"Done. Agreed, by the way. Fuck Christmas dinner. We'll do our own thing."

He grins at you, leaning in to kiss you slowly, tenderly, leisurely. Like you have all the time in the world.

"I want to get a tree. And lights. We don't have to do all the ornaments and stuff, but lights would be nice."

"I have an artificial tree in the back of the storage closet... is that okay?"

"Perfect. I don't want to stand on all the pine needles, anyway."

Laughing, you shift closer to him, tangling your legs together on the couch.

"And no gifts for me."

"But Buck-"

"Angel. I don't want anything. I have everything I need sat next to me."

You roll your eyes, but you can't wipe the smile off your face.

"This isn't fair, suddenly."

"It's plenty fair. You stress too much when you buy gifts, and this is going to be a stress free Christmas. Understood?"

He hooks his fingers under your chin, forcing you to look at him.

"Understood," you whisper, swinging your knee over so you're straddling him. "Stress free."

Bucky tilts his head up to kiss you, gentle at first, then firmer when you roll your hips into his. He's a little distracted, admittedly. He got you to promise not to get him anything, but made sure you wouldn't ask the same. His mind runs a mile a minute, trying to wrack his brain on what kind of gift to get for the love of his life, the person that saved him and continues to save him every single day.

He comes up empty, but lets you kiss the thoughts away for a little while.

✵  ✵    ·　 ✵ 　　 *  · ✵

"My mom taught me this specific way to hang lights on your tree. Look, grab this end and I'll show you."

You're both still in your pyjamas, fire roaring, a jazzy Christmas melody playing from the radio. You decided you wouldn't put up your tree until the day before, to save Bucky from feeling overwhelmed. It's worked, so far - he looks plenty relaxed as he chuckles and rises from the armchair.

"You're tall, so hold this above your head so they don't tangle."

You work diligently, bottom lip pulled between your teeth as you concentrate. Bucky's happy to watch you, fighting the smile off his face every time you sigh in exasperation. Eventually, you step back and admire your masterpiece, satisfied and content.

"It's beautiful, baby," he whispers, wrapping his arms around you from behind.

He presses a kiss into your neck, then another, then another. Your eyes slip closed, and you sink into his embrace, feeling more at peace than you ever thought possible. You spend the evening by the fire, lying on the rug, room illuminated by the lights on the tree.

It's perfect in every way.

✵  ✵    ·　 ✵ 　　 *  · ✵

"Merry Christmas, angel."

"Merry Christmas, Buck."

His hand finds yours under the duvet, pulling you in close. You tangle yourself around him like lights on a tree, all encompassed by his warmth.

"What's the plan for today, Sergeant?"

He presses a kiss into your temple, propping himself up on his elbow so he can see you properly.

"I say we make some breakfast, spend all day on the couch, and then maybe make some dinner? I know we said we wouldn't do a traditional Christmas dinner, but it'd still be nice to take the time to cook something."

"That sounds perfect."

In the kitchen, you make pancakes with copious amounts of maple syrup, strawberries and pieces of banana strewn across your plates.

"My Mom made us pancakes every Christmas morning, you know."

"You've never told me that."

"I know. I kind of refrained from ever talking about anything festive, because I didn't want you to feel guilty."

"For making you miss out for so many years?"

"I haven't missed out, baby. I chose not to do Christmas because I love you. And that love takes precedent over everything else."

Bucky kisses you then, across the kitchen table, full and golden and so full of love you almost fall off your chair. He tastes like blueberry jam and syrup and coffee, and you wish you could bottle it up and stick a little under your tongue when you get homesick.

"What changed?"

"Hmm?"

"Why now? I would have been content to never do Christmas again, if it made you happy."

"Because I realised something, a couple of months ago. We were sat in the park, and you were laughing at that dog chasing the boomerang. The sun was making you glow, like some sort of angel, and I just knew. I can do anything with you by my side. I can't put my future on hold because of my past."

You're fighting back tears as you look at him, so happy and content. You never thought this was possible, when you first met him.

And here you are.

Celebrating Christmas, showing him your childhood traditions, making pancakes like your Mama used to. You're sat at the kitchen table as the snow falls outside and the warmth that Bucky's love brings is keeping the chill at bay.

It doesn't get better than this.

"I got you something," he murmurs almost sheepishly.

"Bucky-"

"Don't yell at me! I know it makes me a hypocrite, I know I said no gifts, I know."

You roll your eyes, but watch his every move as he gets up and leaves the room. You finish your breakfast and put both of your plates in the sink, turning on the tap so they can soak. When you turn around, Bucky has returned.

He's on one knee.

There's a ring between his fingers, glinting in the winter sun. You're both still in your pyjamas, warm and full, not quite having shaken off the heavy embrace of sleep just yet.

It's perfect.

"Maybe it's cliche to propose on Christmas day, but... I want to replace all of my old memories with new ones. Memories like this."

You walk over to him, kneeling down in front of him so your eyes are level.

"You've taught me what love is, baby. And I can never repay you for that. But I can certainly try. Every day, I can try."

There are tears dripping down both of your cheeks, Bucky's grin matching yours. The two of you are overwhelmed in the best way, unsure of how to process the gravity of what you're feeling.

"Marry me, baby. Let's do this forever."

You lunge forward and smash your lips to his, laughing into his mouth.

"Yes," you breathe when you pull away. "God, yes. A million times yes, Buck."

His arms wrap around your middle as he picks you up, twirling you in circles around the kitchen, both of you shrieking with joy.

Bucky slips the ring onto your finger when he puts you down, both of you tilting your heads to admire it.

"I love you," you murmur, leaning up to press your foreheads together. "The cold can't touch you now, baby. This love will warm us forever."

The cold can't touch him now. Love will warm him forever.

@lizzystuffsthings <3

[chocsra]

✧ "YOU CLING TO YOUR PAPERS AND PENS;

(wait until you like me again)"

☆ synopsis ↺: your ex, chuuya nakahara drunk calls you, only to realise you're all he ever wants. (based off arianas song: we can't be friends (wait until you like me again)

☆ content ↺: angst, slight stormbringer spoilers, swearing

Haunted - (of a place) frequented by a ghost.

—You were no ghost, Chuuya knew that. But in the rise of the sun, and awakening of the moon, he was haunted.

No, he didn't feel haunted. He's convinced he is, even if the fuel to propel those kinds of shitty thoughts is getting drunk on days when he should be resting.

—

"I want to burn every memory of you."

Chuuya murmurs under his breath, gloved fingers twirling the base of the wine glass to stimulate his turbulent thoughts—vibrant emotions that swish in the swell of his chest.

"You'd have to burn your own skin." A sweet voice breaks through the bitter taste of the red wine dissolving on his tongue. The statement and hollowness of your voice make him sharply turn behind him. Nothing. Just his empty office, the window before it, the cold air dancing around his tensed-up figure. Your absence evocative him.

Chuuya exhales sharply, a chill running up his spine. "My own skin?.." He takes a slim hand to card his russet locks in a cold confusion, scoffing just a bit. "Shit."

The mafioso leans back in the leather seat of his chair, before pouring the last of his wine bottle into the glass. Patting down his bolo tie and white dress shirt, he decides to waste this night drowning in red wine. A heavenly distraction from the reality of your hauntings, or the reality of your absence.

18k worth of alcoholic beverages wasted, down in the trash. Inaudible words conform on the curve of his lips, words of plea. It was a huge contrast to when Chuuya left you. "I'm sorry, really am.." he whispers, remnants of his scarlet wine ghosting over his lips. Fedora placed atop his head, covering his face, Chuuya lazily took out his phone, punching in his password with the messy coordination of his gloved fingers.

You're here, that's the thing.

Your number.

The mafia executive takes a shy and longing peek at your contact. Your last call 3 months ago, your profile picture stained with an old photo of you kissing his knuckles with an innocent smile tugging on your lips, and his thumb hovering over the 'call' button. Even in this drunken state, in the back of Chuuya's mind, he knew calling you would be audacious and pathetic. Especially when he left you first, but in the front of his mind, all he wanted was you. To hear your voice, either empty or full anger, or your voicemail, polite and concise, to hear the humanity that he lost by losing you.

The winter night

Chuuya presses on the call button, his screen lighting up and ringing. No real expectation that you were going to pick up, considering the time and caller. In the sea of his heart, that dreadful feeling was fought back by the artistic shuffle of his delusions. His once romantic poems chanted a mantra for you to pick up, that you were going to pick up the phone, not your ghost.

Chuuya's brows furrow, planting a line in the middle of his glabella. On this chilly night, where the usual jazz tunes of ensembles played in the Port Mafia's lobbies, musky scents and a hint of jasmine, and the click and clatter of heels and dress shoes..

My heart grieves;

..Chuuya feels himself yearning. Yearning for something more than this. The scent of home, your articles of clothing, your skin. He wants back the memory he wants to burn so badly, to smell the smoke and die on that same hill..

Greives without reason…

.."Please pick up." He feels himself pleading. Chuuya may tell himself you're all he wants right now, alcohol running wild in his noggin. However, he questions if he even knows what he needs..

My heart is rusting, turning purple.

.."Hi, you've reached [Y/N]. Thanks for calling, can't answer at the moment though. But if you leave a message I'll get back to you as soon as I can."

Beep.

The night ends as Chuuya gently shuts off his phone.

But his first dream starts once enough alcohol is in his system.

They say the mind blocks out traumatizing memories to save itself from despondency. Nakahara Chuuya dreams, but he cannot grasp to remember that concept. Maybe, it's awful memories from his childhood or hallucinations from the children of the Sheep, or the Flags; Albatross, Doc, Pianoman, Iceman and Lippman.

"I'm sorry, if I stay with you, you'll just get hurt."

As if he was restricted in the ocean of his mind, Chuuya sees you and himself in your living room.

"I won't! You can send your bodyguards for protection, it's fine."

A constricted groan pulls from Chuuya's throat as he stares at the couch, wooden flooring, and anything but your pleading face. He remembers this all too well, the evening you separated. It was when Dazai left the mafia, and Chuuya continued to see his men drop like flies day after day from just his job alone. Apart from the other half of his soul disappearing completely, every piece of humanity he built up came crashing down on the body that his older brother called 2383 lines of code.

"It's not other people, it's myself! Don't you fuckin' get it?!"

A piercing silence fills the room. Aside from Chuuya's heart dropping at his own hurtful words, he tries to shut himself up, for looking at the way your eyes conform from pleading to understanding was all too much.

His voice cracking from the boiling misery in the pit of his stomach, Chuuya continues to look down, refusing to meet your teary eyes.

"You won't gain shit by being with me. I'm a monster, [Y/N]. I'm sorry."

The mafioso stares right at your pitiful figure, crystal tears poking the corners of your eyes. Like the hauntingly beautiful ghost he's ever seen through tunnel vision, Chuuya hasn't seen your truthful humanity in so long. For he saw you—a figment of himself, as he saw himself; inhuman.

...

"I'll always love you."

Chuuya snaps awake on his office chair, rays of sunshine ghosting over his ivory skin.

Pant.. Pant.

The man's eyes gaze at the loose ends of his office: the empty wine bottle, his dishevelled clothing, and the same, corporate-filled air surrounding him. Then, his phone.

2 missed calls.

Chuuya inhales sharply.

Perhaps it was the remnants of his dreadful hangover that took over him, that made Chuuya make the stupidest decision the Port Mafia has ever. But, his drunk words were his sober thoughts and, he wanted you back.

From [Y/N] [L/N].

Sent 7:35 AM — "Are you okay?"

And so, he swiftly grabbed his overcoat and dashed out of his office.

—

Mwah!

"I, Nakahara Chuuya, vow to love you forever and ever."

The man, bent down on one knee kisses the back of your hand teasingly. Chuuya Nakahara always took it next level, his grand gestures and sophisticated aura made him all the more appealing. That also meant planting an abundance more kisses on your fingers and knuckles.

You two had this unspoken code for each other: that hand kisses were an extremely valuable thing. Since Chuuya believes his hands are the ignition for Corruption, and are usually used for destruction, you could've chosen to have done anything with his ungloved hands to avenge the lives he's taken; but instead, you choose to kiss them.

"You're being corny again," you giggle, pointing to the bouquet in your hand—irises. "you even got me flowers."

You hit his head, huffing. "Hey!"

The mafioso smirks, chuckling. "I think you should be proud of yourself though," He teases, rubbing your hand gently, "you finally cooked something other than instant noodl—

Thwack!

—

In a disorienting manner, Chuuya hops off his motorbike at your workplace. Inhaling softly as he holds a bouquet of irises. All kinds of turbulent thoughts ran wild in his head, especially since he didn't get to shower yesterday. The man patted down his clothes and fixed his fair, adjusting his wrist to check his watch.

8:54.

Your work starts at 9:00 sharp.

Just as he's rushing to adjust his raven collar and fedora, the sight of your hair and work uniform catches his eye.

"Wait!"

—

Distance, timing and expectations.

The great adversaries of love.

A person cannot change distance or timing, but expectations are self-inflicted.

Chuuya felt like you were always going to expect more from him because he felt like he lacked in every way besides destruction. He expected that he was going to hurt you after Dazai left the Port Mafia, like a lingering spirit after they've lost their other half. Chuuya was responsible for inflicting negative 'what if's because of his own insecurities, losing you in the process.

He expected because you wanted him to stay back then, you were going to want that forever.

Because that's clearly not the case right now.

—

The redhead finally sees you in the sea of passersby, a clear image of your smiling face, pretty outfit, and glowing aura.

You stood out to him just like before.

So did the man beside you, with a bouquet of daffodils.

He took a fancy bow and kissed the back of your hand, handing over the flowers.

Oh, how irises—the flower of light, brought nothing more to him than darkness.

As crystal tears paint his eyes, Chuuya ponders the ache in his heart. He was truly foolish to believe more in your ghost, than you.

✧ chocsra™

[lloovvv]

CHRISTMAS SPECIAL - how they celebrate it with you - multi x reader - headcanons

characters: Kamisato Ayaka, Wanderer, Furina, and Xiao

——————————————————————————————————

KAMISATO AYAKA -

• Ayaka adores the serene beauty of winter, so she might invite you for a stroll through the snow-covered streets of Inazuma or the Kamisato Estate gardens.

• She’ll hold your hand shyly, her cheeks dusted with pink as the two of you enjoy the frosty air.

• She would prepare special dishes like dango or miso soup with seasonal ingredients to keep you warm.

• Ayaka would put a lot of thought into her gift for you. It might be a hand-sewn scarf or a calligraphy piece with a heartfelt poem.

• She would be just as excited to see your reaction as she is nervous that you might not like it (though she tries to hide it).

• Despite her usual poise, Ayaka has a playful side. She might challenge you to a snowball fight, laughing sweetly when you surprise her with a sneak attack.

• If there’s a frozen pond nearby, she’d guide you through a graceful ice skating session, showing off her effortless elegance but cheering you on if you struggle.

• At the end of the day, you two would be lying in the comfort of her bed.

• She’d wrap a blanket around both of you, finding peace in the quiet intimacy.

• This is when she’d open up the most, expressing how much your presence means to her.

• She’d hum a soft melody, creating a memory she’d cherish forever.

——————————————————————————————————

WANDERER -

• Wanderer isn’t the type to actively embrace festive holidays, viewing them as frivolous at first.

• However, if you’re excited about Christmas, he’d begrudgingly go along with it—grumbling about how “pointless” it is while secretly enjoying your enthusiasm.

• His gifts would be unexpectedly thoughtful but wrapped in sarcasm. For example, he might gift you a warm coat, teasing you about always complaining about the cold.

• When you give him a present, he’d act indifferent, but the faintest smile would betray how much it means to him.

• If you insist on decorating together, he’d mock the whole process but still help out—often making snide comments like, “Why do humans like hanging shiny objects everywhere?”

• You’d catch him adjusting the decorations to perfection when he thinks you’re not looking.

• Wanderer isn’t big on crowds or loud celebrations, so he’d prefer to spend the evening with just you.

• He’d sit by the fire, occasionally tossing in witty remarks about holiday traditions, but his eyes would soften when you share your holiday memories.

• If you try to drag him outside for a snowball fight, he’d initially refuse, saying it’s beneath him.

• Eventually, he’d relent—and once he does, he’d be annoyingly good at it, dodging every snowball you throw and smirking the whole time.

• Despite his teasing, he’d let you win in the end, though he’d never admit it.

• Christmas would bring out a reflective side of him. While he’d never say it outright, he’d hint at how he cherishes having you in his life.

• In rare moments of vulnerability, he might let you see his softer side, admitting that spending the holiday with you makes it bearable—even enjoyable.

• If you suggest cooking together, Wanderer would scoff, claiming he doesn’t need food, so why bother?

• But if you persist, he’d eventually help — albeit with sarcastic comments.

• By the end of the day, when everything is quiet, he’d let down his guard and show a genuine smile—a rare and precious sight.

• “You’re lucky you managed to drag me into this,” he’d say, before adding quietly, “But I guess it wasn’t so bad.”

——————————————————————————————————

FURINA -

• Furina would insist on making Christmas a grand event, full of flair and drama. She’d plan an elaborate celebration, complete with a beautifully decorated tree, ornate lights, and a luxurious feast.

• She’d take charge of the preparations, even if she doesn’t know exactly what she’s doing, because she wants it to be perfect.

• Furina would constantly seek your attention during the holiday, making sure you notice all the effort she put into the decorations or her carefully chosen outfit.

• “Y/N, doesn’t this outfit look dazzling? Of course, it does—only I could pull off such elegance on Christmas!”

• She’d turn gift-giving into a contest, wanting to outdo you with the most extravagant and meaningful present.

• Her gift might be something over-the-top, like a rare jewel or a custom-made piece of art that reminds her of you.

• She’d act smug when you open it but would blush when you give her something heartfelt in return.

• Decorating the tree with Furina would be a theatrical affair. She’d dramatically declare that she should place the star on top because she’s “the brightest star in Fontaine.”

• If you challenge her, she’d make a big fuss but secretly enjoy the playful banter.

• Furina would love the idea of ice skating, insisting on showing off her “graceful moves.”

• In reality, she might stumble a bit, but she’d laugh it off and pretend it was all part of the show.

• She’d be thrilled if you held her hand to guide her, though she’d make a big deal about it: “Oh, so you want to hold hands with me? Very well, I’ll allow it.”

• A snowball fight with Furina would feel like a grand courtroom battle. She’d declare herself the “Supreme Commander of Snow” and make every throw with flair.

• If you manage to hit her with a snowball, she’d feign a dramatic fall, claiming you’ve “betrayed the Hydro Archon.”

• Furina would insist on staying up until midnight to celebrate the official start of Christmas Day. She’d drag you outside to admire the stars and make a wish together.

• “If you don’t wish for more time with me, I’ll be very upset,” she’d tease, though her eyes would betray her sincerity.

• Furina might decide to bake Christmas treats with you but would approach it with overconfidence, leading to chaos in the kitchen.

• Even if things go wrong, she’d laugh it off and blame the recipe, saying, “Clearly, it’s not my fault. Who writes these instructions anyway?”

• At the end of the day, Furina would pull you aside for a private moment. She’d hold your hands, her usual theatrical demeanor softening as she says, “I’ve had many performances, but this one, with you, might be my favorite.”

• She’d make it clear, in her own unique way, that you’re the highlight of her holiday.

——————————————————————————————————

XIAO -

• Xiao isn’t one for holidays or celebrations, finding them unnecessary distractions.

• However, if you express how much Christmas means to you, he’d agree to participate—though his discomfort would be obvious at first.

• Xiao wouldn’t understand the point of extravagant decorations, but he’d help you set them up if you asked.

• He might hang a single ornament on the tree, stepping back and saying, “That’s enough, right?” You’d have to gently coax him into adding more.

• Xiao wouldn’t think about getting a gift until the last minute, but he’d put his heart into it. It might be something simple yet meaningful, like a handmade talisman for your protection.

• When you give him a present, he’d be flustered, not knowing how to react. “You didn’t have to do this,” he’d murmur, though his softened expression would show how much he appreciates it.

• Rather than actively celebrating, Xiao would focus on ensuring your safety and comfort during the festivities.

• He’d stay nearby, silently keeping an eye on you while pretending he’s not part of the celebration.

• Xiao would prefer to spend Christmas in a quiet, serene setting. He might take you to Wangshu Inn, where the two of you could enjoy the tranquil view of the illuminated landscape.

• If you try to get him involved in a snowball fight, Xiao would initially decline, saying, “That’s not necessary.”

• But if you’re persistent, he’d eventually join in, using his speed and precision to effortlessly dodge or land snowballs.

• He’d let a rare smile slip when he sees you laughing, though he’d quickly compose himself.

• Xiao isn’t big on physical affection, but he’d make sure you’re warm and safe, buying and silently placing a scarf around your neck or pulling you closer to his side if it’s cold.

• If you thank him, he’d look away and mutter, “It’s nothing.”

• Xiao would be hesitant to try Christmas treats, as he’s not used to indulging in such things.

• If you insist, he’d take a small bite and offer a neutral comment like, “It’s… acceptable.” But if he secretly enjoys it, you might catch him sneaking another bite later.

• At the end of the day, Xiao would admit in a quiet voice, “I don’t understand these traditions… but if it makes you happy, I’m glad I could be here with you.”

• He’d linger by your side, taking in the peaceful atmosphere and silently cherishing the moment you’ve shared.

——————————————————————————————————

[leavingsunsets]

Helllloo!!

I would like to request a senkuu x reader if possible! (Preferably some angst + romance but anything works!) Been looking for some inspiration and I love your work!

Also hopefully you're okay if I draw some of your work too

Thank youuuu!! (>u<)/

im okay with you drawing my work! saw some of ur art, and wow! glad ur a fan tehee :33 i see you've given me an angst plot, with romance? yes i will definitely fulfill this. i waaaassss ssupposed to make this action filled with scene wit reader dying in battle of treasure island arc and senku going "WHAT" and head in hands and sobbing and the gang has to go back to the mainland hat on stomach like ":(" but exams and research defense finished and i also jus watched cute little vid of an old couple so this is jussttt hmmm a softer angst set between events ig

"ʟᴏᴏᴋ ᴍʏ ᴡᴀʏ."

[ꜱᴇɴᴋᴜ x ɢɴ!ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ]

It wasn't really a secret. You didn't even try, honestly.

Since the first of times of where you'd glimpsed his face at school, to the latest catch of him swirling fluid in a beaker, you've always been confident in your feelings.

Albeit a bit clumsy in your attempts, you were honest, never mincing them, never embarrassed.

"Senku, I really really like you!"

"Yeah, okay, could you pass me that screwdriver?" he says, both of you 6 years old in his room, as he gestures to the tool beside you.

"Senku, I want to date you. I heard Aimi had a boyfriend recently and I was thinking-" your voice goes interrupted as the loud sound of Senku's machinery overpower yours. 13 years old, another one of his favorite past times.

"Senku, if we were both nobles in medieval fantasy and I had to marry someone in order to get a persistent suitor off my back, I'd go to you. Offer a contract with an eventual divorce, but then we fall in love in a slow burn romance and start rethinking about our agreement."

"Can you- just- HELP ME, DAMN IT." Senku heaves, 16 years old, face turning red as he struggles to hold the boxes of equipment you came to help him with.

All these confessions, all these words, even before everything changed. The clatter of a can hitting the ground.

...

In this new life, surely, you know, Senku's had an absolute goal for this world. To rebuilt it as it was, from his own two hands. In your own way, you've had to learn how to pace your feelings.

Instead of words, as you always did, you decided to translate your affections into a language that matters most in a time like this.

Actions.

For every problem, every step he takes, you take with him. Express your thoughts, concerns, ideas. Any progress, you're there to celebrate with, any process, you're there to assist.

Declarations of love aren't so frequent, though you do like to sneak it in rarely. Announcing it in bursts of passion at the top of your lungs. Quite an antic you do, much to his embarrassment. It's become a well known fact, and often a joke between company.

Though, sometimes you wonder if it's what makes him doubt it. Your overt confessions, cheesy poems and bustling energy that could rival Taiju's. Was it too clumsy? Too obvious that he feels it's an exaggerated farce for show?

To this, you whisper gingerly in the dead of night, in the earliest of mornings,

"Senku. I really really like you."

In the times of uneventful hours, peacefulness in comfortable silence,

"Senku,"

You know, of course you do, of all people.

No one knows him more than you and that fact would've made you happy of such a thing if it couldn't break your heart more. The love of your life, saying everything said in a language that matters most in this time.

An unreadable glance. When the sun beams down brightly and you stare at him lovingly like he's hung the stars in the sky.

Winter strikes mercilessly, days are rough, tensions are high. When everything's all good and done, a bold pinkie inches towards his own. He doesn't pull away, but his hand moves back just as further.

Late at night, behind the tree he leans upon, watching, just watching. His ruby eyes enraptured by the night's celestial pearl.

Gaze too high, to see you.

You close your eyes.

You don't think you can ever stop loving him, despite that. That man doesn't like dragging things out, so you're sure a rejection is soon to come. Whether you approach first or not.

Why he doesn't do it sooner? You know why. As much as he doesn't reciprocate, you know how hesitant he is when it comes to close relationships such as you. Is he scared of breaking your friendship?

It's not the warmth you're looking for, but it's the warmth you can get. Even so, you would never expect him to return just as much as you've given. You love him for him, and not for anything else.

Tragic, how terribly you do.

Maybe one day, you'll learn to forget, to move your heart from where it isn't supposed to be. Maybe one day, you would stop gazing at him with something much more than fondness, waiting for his eyes to find its way back to you.

But until then,

"-I love you."

[leveragecentral]

hello everyone! we at leveragecentral want to thank everyone who's started following us this year and every leverage fan who keeps this fandom alive!

almost one year after starting this blog, we would like to invite you to partake in 12 days of leverage christmas! this event will run from 25 december 2024 to 5 january 2025 - we've created a list of prompts that has variations so that creators of any kind can participate!

the list of prompts is down below. if you create something, please use the tag #leveragecentral, so we can share your work, and feel free to use the caption:

12 days of leverage christmas — day # [prompt]

now, without further ado, here be the prompts we've picked! all of these are up to your interpretation, they're meant to just inspire to create!

✧ day 1, 25 dec: family ✧ day 2, 26 dec: faceless / role reversal ✧ day 3, 27 dec: lighting / lights ✧ day 4, 28 dec: winter colors / forgery ✧ day 5, 29 dec: protection ✧ day 6, 30 dec: humor ✧ day 7, 31 dec: comfort / cold ✧ day 8, 1 jan: poem ✧ day 9, 2 jan: color palette / celebration ✧ day 10, 3 jan: song ✧ day 11, 4 jan: typography / flowers ✧ day 12, 5 jan: fusion

please do reblog this post to spread the word! thank you for everything and happy december!