#anyway... like I said; if you don't really keep up with it

[steviewashere]

I kinda feel like Steve wasn't as popular as he's made out to be. Like, maybe he's got a bit of a reputation that proceeds him—ladies man, The Hair, and Steeevveee Harrington. He takes care of himself, takes care of his dates. The guys around him oversell his personality a lot, how many people he can get in bed with him, the way he can instantly charm a person.

But then you meet him and it's just.

This is the guy you're talking about?

The guy who forgets how to use his tongue sometimes and just does one of those little finger waves? The guy who, if he thinks you're not paying attention to him, will just stand there and make a bunch of goofy faces, lost in thought, muttering song lyrics under his breath? The guy who keeps making the most dorky references to music and movie culture—he quoted something from Star Trek on one of his dates. And the guy who will run into walls when trying to make a swift exit?

Dude is awkward. He is clammy. He is stuttering over his words and trying to cover it up with his pretty smile—which, yeah could be charming, but in his own special streak of charming. Every romantic gesture he pulls is more outlandish, garish, and brash than the last; he is fumbling matches for candles, though, and he is sticking himself in the thumb with the thorns on roses, he is spilling popcorn all over himself on movie dates, and he is tripping on his own feet while trying to carry a girl to his bed upstairs.

Every time a girl kisses his cheek, he's immediately flushing head to toe, smiling all crooked, eyes all soft. He almost forgets to kiss them back.

When he dates Eddie, though? Oh my god.

Eddie flirts with him and Steve literally squeaks. Eddie watches him while Steve is playing basketball, he fumbles the ball and falls onto his knees on the court. Eddie tucks hair behind Steve's ear, Steve is blurting out his entire hair care regime—all because Eddie murmured about how soft it was. Eddie rubs his back while they're cuddled on the couch, Steve gets a boner so fast that he nearly blacks out. Eddie makes them dinner once, tells Steve to just sit down at the table while ushering him out of the kitchen, and Steve is in such a daze of love that he runs into the doorjamb face first and breaks his nose.

When Eddie tells him he loves him? Steve literally screams and has to take a lap before saying it back.

Every time Steve flirts, he has to back track five steps. Every time he compliments Eddie, he has to clarify that it's a compliment because they all come out so aggressively to the point they sound like insults. He tries to quote Shakespeare and, sure it's a love quote, but it's from some incest scene and Eddie laughs before telling him what it really means.

I don't know. Steve just embarrasses himself a lot. Like he definitely has the capacity to sweep somebody off their feet, romance 'em or whatever. But when he's really, really in love with somebody (whether it be after a few dates with a girl, the person he's in love with is Nancy, or even Eddie)? Steve is not chill whatsoever.

Everything that rumors said were just complete lies. You wanna know who started them?

Tommy.

It was Tommy trying to cover for his best friend. Because he saw Steve smile at a girl once, flirt with her, get a date with her. But he had a piece of broccoli stuck between his two front teeth. He couldn't save the interaction even if he tried, Steve was too enamored to quit. The only saving grace Tommy could think of was sell Steve as this handsome, charming, romantic guy—even though the Steve he knew was dorky, a major geek in private, awkward as hell, and funny half the time (his jokes were very hit or miss).

(Also, imagine gay Tommy just trying to reason with himself that his crush—his best friend—is actually not the awkward guy he really is. And maybe he still likes Steve. But Jesus. That piece of broccoli was huge! How did Steve not feel it?)

Anyway. Cringe fail Steve is something very important to me.

[harmless-variety-of-garden-snake]

I almost posted an alternate for today, because I don't know if I love this one. But I'm home sick, so I don't want to think too hard. ANYWAY. Here's my day thirteen fill for BuckTommy Fluffebruary: Love Declarations, and here's how I got these crazy kids back together in the vague universe these fills are set in. Tagging @bucktommyfluffebruary

There’s a helicopter over the building, and Buck has already heard Tommy’s voice over the radio. He knows who’s flying, who he’s going to see as soon as he’s lifted out, but he’s got a scared kid on his hip and can’t really be too tied up in what happened between them.

“Coming down,” Lucy says over the radio, and Buck acknowledges her.

“You ready?” he asks the kid, Susie, and she looks at him with wide, terrified eyes. She’d been the only one in her apartment when the fire broke out, and Buck had been cut off from the ladder and Eddie when he got her. She’d been smart, though, and stayed low and kept her face covered like she’d been taught in school. After scooping her up, Buck radioed for help, and Tommy’s voice had come in loud and clear telling him to go up to the south corner of the roof to avoid potential structure collapse on the north side. “I know the pilot in that chopper, he’s the best pilot in the whole world. I promise, he’ll get us out of here and we’ll get you back to your mom, okay?”

“Okay,” she says, barely audible over the rotors. “You promise?”

Buck lifts his gloved hand, pinky stuck out, and he holds her gaze as she locks her small finger around his. A five-year-old understands how sacred the pinky promise is, and she gives him a tiny nod.

“Wanna know something cool?” he asks as Lucy descends on the ladder. “He flew into a hurricane the night we met, and we’re still here. No one is better at this.”

Susie looks up at the helicopter with something like awe, and Buck hugs her close until Lucy can reach for her, clipping her onto a harness and yelling instructions that he can’t hear. He waits until they’re climbing up before he hooks his arms and feet into the rungs. The helicopter is steady as he climbs, and he even feels it tip a little when he’s climbing in to make it an easier angle to climb in.

“Show-off,” he mutters to absolutely no one. Lucy has Susie in her lap, Tommy is in the pilot’s seat, the seat next to him is empty. Buck unhooks his gear and secures it as best he can before he sits next to Tommy and puts a headset on. “Thanks for the lift.”

“You okay?” Tommy asks, his voice like a balm after two months apart.

“Could be worse,” Buck says, watching as the north corner of the building collapses. “That was my original exit.”

“I have a parking lot nearby cleared for landing,” Tommy says, nodding to something in the distance. Buck is too busy looking at him, drinking in the sight of his side profile.

Tommy looks alert, but there’s circles under his eyes. His hair is a little longer than he usually keeps it, so is his stubble. He looks like he had when he’d gotten food poisoning after Sal’s Labor Day barbecue. But he still flies with total confidence, checking and double-checking that no one is in their immediate airspace and that they have enough clearance for landing.

“Alright, we’re going to land now,” he says, and Buck twists around to see Lucy relaying this to Susie. The girl nods and asks something.

“Any word on her mom?” Lucy asks through the headset.

“She was in the laundry room downstairs,” Buck says. “She’s got a couple minor burns from trying to get the stairwell door open, but she’s on-site. Cap said she’ll be waiting.”

When they land, Lucy has to hold Susie tight until they’re ready to exit, and then Buck jumps up to help the girl out. He’s got her on his hip again and hears a woman scream her name as she runs toward them. Susie squirms in his grip, and Buck carefully sets her on her feet, watching as she runs toward her mom and gets swept up in a tearful hug.

He turns back to the chopper and climbs in to retrieve his gear. The rotors are winding down, because there’s people running around them and Lucy is outside talking to Bobby, and it’s quiet.

“You look like shit,” he says, and Tommy snorts from his seat. “Kind of.”

“You look good,” Tommy says, looking over his shoulder at him.

“I feel like shit,” Buck says, tucking his helmet under his arm. “Thanks for the ride.”

A hand reaches back before he can jump out, and Buck stops, looking down at the thick fingers curled around his elbow. It’s like a sad version of that day after the cruise ship rescue, when Buck had felt the need to reach out and touch Tommy and Tommy had reached back and smiled and made something flutter in his stomach. Now he feels like there’s a big stone there instead.

“Hey,” Tommy says softly, and Buck looks at him. “When are you off?”

“Now,” Buck says. “You?”

“Forty minutes ago.” His fingers rub the material of Buck’s jacket. “I gotta fly back, but can we talk after?”

Buck swallows around the lump in his throat. “Why?”

“Because I think I made the biggest mistake of my life,” Tommy says, looking at him with pleading eyes. “And I want to know if it’s too late to fix it.”

His heart seizes in his chest, feeling hope for the first time in two months.

“It’s not,” Buck says, his voice coming out in a rush, dropping his helmet so he can reach for Tommy’s cheek, ripping off his glove so he can feel the skin against his. “It’s not.”

Tommy leans into his touch and closes his eyes, the crease between his brows smoothing and the tension around his eyes easing. “I’m not brave.”

“I’m not either,” Buck says before he takes off his other glove with his teeth and reaches for Tommy’s other cheek. “I’m not a lot of things.”

“You’re perfect,” Tommy says, opening his eyes and smiling just the smallest amount. “God, Evan, you’re perfect.”

“I’m not,” Buck insists, moving to kneel next to Tommy’s seat. “I said everything all wrong. I didn’t mean for any of it to seem like I was just wanting to live with you because I admired you. I had a plan, and I-I panicked? I don’t know.”

“I think I would’ve run off anyway,” Tommy admits, his gaze dropping from Buck’s. “There’s this thing I do where I think I can see into the future, and it’s never good. And so I leave before it can get bad.”

Buck smiles, his heart breaking for Tommy all over again, and strokes his thumb over his stubble. “But what if it’s good? What if it’s good this time? Didn’t it feel like it was? Like it’d maybe always be like that?”

“Yeah,” Tommy says, his hand coming up to hook over Buck’s wrist, his thumb rubbing against his bare skin. “You didn’t say anything wrong, just none of it was…correct. I’m not—I’m not what you think I am.”

“I think you’re everything I’ve ever been looking for.” Buck’s smile widens when Tommy’s gaze shifts back to his and softens. “And I think you’re the only person I’ll ever find who makes me feel the way you do, who puts up with everything that isn’t perfect about me. So I also think we should give this another shot.”

“Really?” Tommy says, his voice soft and disbelieving.

“You gave me a second chance after I really fucked up. What kind of guy would I be if I didn’t give you one?”

Tommy shrugs. “A reasonable one?”

Buck huffs out a laugh and shakes his head. “Nah, I’ve never been that. Never been reasonable, never been great at thinking before I talk, I’m pretty bad at self-control, and I’ve got abandonment issues like you wouldn’t believe.”

“Yeah, but I love you anyway.”

It sounds so simple when Tommy says it, but Buck feels his breath stutter in his chest. Tommy knows about Daniel, about the lying, but he doesn’t know about that day. He doesn’t know what Buck had wanted more than anything from his parents, from anybody.

Tommy’s eyes dart between his. “Sorry, was that—”

Buck cuts him off with a kiss, Tommy's face still cradled in his hands. When a hand curls around the back of his neck, he feels safe.

“I love you,” Buck whispers in the scant space between their lips when they break apart to breathe. “We still need to talk, but I can’t let you fly off without saying that.”

Tommy kisses him again, and it’s messy and a little frantic and so, so familiar. It’s the way he’d kiss Buck when he seemed desperate for him, the way he’d kiss when they hadn’t seen each other in days because of shift schedules keeping them apart, the way Buck had kissed him in a hospital when he’d finally had someone show up for him.

“Hey, everything ok—oh, shit,” Lucy says from behind them, and Buck breaks the kiss quickly. It’s really not okay that they’re doing this on a call. “I mean, don’t let me interrupt.”

“No, sorry, I should—” Buck points his thumb over his shoulder and looks back at Tommy, who’s flushed and smiling and the prettiest thing Buck’s ever seen. “Cap’s probably waiting.”

“Yeah, I’d like to get home,” Bobby says from behind Lucy. “You okay, Buck?”

“Yeah,” Buck says with a shaky smile as he keeps staring into Tommy’s eyes. “Yeah, I’m great.”

He leans in and kisses Tommy again before slipping out of the chopper. When he looks back, Tommy is out of his seat and following him.

“Luce, can you fly us back?” he asks, and she nods, slipping into the seat he’s just vacated. Tommy turns his attention back to Buck and reaches for his hands. “I’ll make you dinner. Unless you want to go out or go to your place.”

Buck shakes his head. “No, that sounds nice. Also, all I have at my place is bread and two kinds of cake right now. Unless you want a bowl of ganache for dinner.”

Tommy’s brows knit together. “I—ganache?”

“Don’t ask,” Bobby says dryly.

“I’ll explain it later,” Buck says, flushing. “But, yeah, I can come over.”

“Okay,” Tommy says, smiling when Buck does. “God, I’m never letting you go again.”

“Good,” Buck says, leaning in until their foreheads are touching. “I’m not letting you go, either. I mean, other than literally, because I kinda have to go back to the station.”

Tommy laughs, and Buck pulls back so he can see the way Tommy’s nose scrunches. “God, I love you so much,” Tommy says.

“I love you, too,” Buck says, feeling every bone in his body melt away. He’s addicted to saying it now, he can feel it. His heart feels like it's made of air and sparks and butterflies, everything feels brighter. “I’ll see you soon.”

Tommy leans in and gives him a quick, too-fast kiss, because now they’re in public and really shouldn’t be kissing on a call. When they separate, Buck turns to see that Bobby, Eddie, Hen, and Chimney are watching with giant grins on their faces.

“Shut up,” he says, his face growing hot as he walks toward them, glancing back as Tommy climbs into the chopper. He waves, and Buck smiles and waves back.

“We didn’t say anything,” Chimney protests.

“Yeah, we’re just happy for you,” Hen says, throwing an arm across his back as they walk toward where the engine’s parked.

“Yeah, and I’m also happy because I just won like fifty bucks from Josh,” Eddie adds. “I said you’d get back together before Valentine’s Day, he had money on the day.”

“And we just cleaned out half of Harbor,” Chimney says, fist-bumping with Hen behind Buck’s back. “Because half of them said before New Year’s, half of them had Valentine’s Day or my wedding anniversary. We doubled down on January. I even got a bonus for it being under eight weeks.”

“I didn’t bet on your relationship,” Bobby says, patting Buck’s shoulder as he passes them.

“Thanks, Cap,” he says dryly.

“Because I knew you’d figure it out in your own time, and also Athena called it a ‘sucker’s bet,” he adds, grinning over his shoulder.

“I hate all of you,” Buck mutters.

“You love us,” Hen says, squeezing him tight.

“Not as much as Tommy, but we’re high on the list,” Chimney agrees.

“And we love you,” Eddie says. “Even though you were busy making up with your boyfriend while we finished putting out that fire.”

Buck throws up his hands in exasperation. “I had to get airlifted from the site!”

“By your bo-oyfriend,” Eddie teases.

“Guys,” Bobby says, opening the engine. “C’mon—”

Buck sighs. “Thank you.”

“—let’s not pressure them into any labels yet.”

Buck hauls himself inside. “Traitor.”

“My A1C is up half a point from last year, I don’t want to hear it. Let’s go, kids, some of us have dinners to get to and paperwork to fill out.”

They pile into the engine, and Buck slouches in his seat with a smile on his face. He texts Tommy that he’s bringing dessert, and he watches intently as a bubble appears until the text comes through.

Tommy

Sounds good :)

You can head over whenever you want. I’m leaving as soon as we land.

Got a hot date tonight. I hope. Lucy said she’s going to drop us out of the sky because she’s out $100??

I’ll see you soon, I’m getting reamed for not being a romantic and waiting until Valentine’s Day?

[meinii]

Hiya! I don't know if you take requests, so feel free to ignore me if you don't! But my request is sylus x reader fic, where the reader isn't used to spending money. Like spending 50 bucks on anything other than food and Essentials was a waste yk. So she has a really hard time with him spending money on stuff she thinks isn't worth it. But he's all like but I want to spend the money on you. And she like *exe.crash* sylus that necklace is $100,000. Anyway I hope your haveing a great day! Also happy 💕valentines💕day if you celebrate! 🍾

“I want to”

tysm for the request ૮꒰ྀི >⸝⸝⸝< ꒱ྀིა I hope you like this! (happy late valentine’s day lol)♡

content: fluff

୨୧･｡｡･♡･∴･♡･｡｡･୨୧

you stared at the price tag like it had personally offended you

“five hundred dollars?” you muttered under your breath

Sylus, standing beside you, raised a brow “so?”

you turned to him, eyes wide “so? that’s way too much!”

he sighed, looking entirely unimpressed “it’s a dress”

“an expensive dress,” you argued “I don’t need it.”

he exhaled, rubbing his temples “you don’t need to need something to have it”

“yes, you do” you shot back, folding your arms

Sylus chuckled, amused “who told you that?”

“logic.”

he smirked, stepping closer. “your logic” he corrected

you sighed, shaking your head. “it’s just—I’m not used to spending money on things I don’t need.”

his smirk softened into something else—something more thoughtful

he reached for your hand, fingers warm against yours

“but I want to spend money on you” he murmured

your heart stuttered

“Sylus—”

“I can afford it,” he continued, squeezing your hand “it’s just money. and if I’m going to spend it, I’d rather spend it on you”

you swallowed

“but it’s unnecessary” you whispered

“no,” he corrected, tilting your chin up “it makes you happy. and that’s never unnecessary”

your face warmed

he sighed, stepping back, hands in his pockets

“listen,” he said “I know you don’t like wasting money. I know you grew up thinking you had to earn every little thing. but that’s not how this works.”

you looked at him, unsure

he met your gaze, unwavering “you don’t have to earn things from me. I want to give them to you because I can. because I want to.”

you swallowed

he sighed again, rubbing the back of his neck “just—let me do this, okay?”

you hesitated

then, finally, you sighed “fine”

his lips curled “so you’ll let me buy you the dress?”

you groaned “don’t push it.”

he laughed

but later, when you walked out of the store with the bag in his hand, you couldn’t help but smile

—

the spending didn’t stop there

one day, you opened your door to find a small box on the doorstep

inside was a delicate bracelet, the chain fine, the pendant small—a tiny crescent moon

you blinked, confused

then, as if on cue, your phone buzzed

SYLUS: open your door

you frowned, stepping outside

he stood there, hands in his pockets, looking smug as ever

“Sylus,” you started “did you—?”

“yes”

you exhaled “you really don’t have to keep buying me things”

“I know”

you looked at him “then why do you?”

he smirked, stepping closer

“because,” he murmured, reaching out to clasp the bracelet around your wrist “I want to.”

your breath hitched

he glanced up, watching you carefully

“does it bother you?” he asked, quieter this time

you hesitated

“no” you admitted

he smirked “good.”

you sighed, looking down at the bracelet

it was beautiful

and, against all logic, you liked it

—

you started noticing it more after that

the little things

the way he’d quietly pay the bill before you even reached for your wallet

the way he’d slip new books onto your shelf without saying a word

the way he’d drape his coat over your shoulders when it was cold, not even asking if you needed it

it wasn’t just about money

it was about you

about making sure you had everything you wanted—whether you asked for it or not

Sylus, you realized one day, is completely and utterly shameless when it comes to spoiling you

and, despite yourself, you didn’t hate it

—

but there were still moments where it overwhelmed you

like the time you walked into your living room and found a brand-new pair of shoes sitting on the coffee table—ones you had casually mentioned wanting weeks ago

“Sylus!” you called

he poked his head into the room, looking unbothered “hmm?”

you held up the shoes “what is this?”

“a gift.”

“Sylus”

he smirked “I saw you looking at them”

you groaned “you have to stop doing this”

“why?”

“because it’s too much!”

he stepped closer, crossing his arms

“too much for who?”

you hesitated

he sighed, running a hand through his hair

“if it was for anyone else,” he murmured “I wouldn’t bother. but it’s you. and i want to do this for you”

your chest tightened

“why?” you whispered

he tilted his head

“because you’re mine.”

your breath hitched

he exhaled, reaching for your hand

“look,” he said, voice softer now “I know you don’t need this stuff. I know you’d be fine without it. but that doesn’t mean I can’t want to give it to you”

you swallowed

“you don’t owe me anything,” he continued “you don’t have to feel guilty. this isn’t some kind of trade”

his grip on your hand tightened

“it’s just me,” he whispered “giving you things because I can. because I want to. because you deserve them.”

your heart clenched

slowly, you looked down at the shoes

they were really nice

you sighed

“okay” you relented

he smirked “yeah?”

you rolled your eyes. “yeah”

his fingers brushed over your knuckles

“good” he murmured

and when you put the shoes on later, feeling just a little lighter, you realized—maybe it wasn’t so bad, after all.

[gangstalkerbarbie]

You're not a god, technically. A god is one of them big ones, the extraterrestrials, see?

You, like everything else in the world, were born here; your beginning is not before time and outside the world. Not a god. You're a daimon. It's a common misconception.

Still, in the space of that misconception there's honest work.

You're not sure the council upstairs (if it's even a council anymore) pays much attention to most of mortalkind, really, otherwise there wouldn't have to be witches to do work scholars are jealous of, but doesn't someone have to?

Sometimes the ones that do enough of it become angels. Sometimes the ones that do something better than anyone else become... well, just what is Silence, actually? Is that still what he goes by? When he was Death All-Devouring he had a few more teeth, you think.

Anyway: when official channels fatfinger a prayer, you have to know, and it's just sort of the case, ethically speaking, that you're to do something about it. Even if only to keep up the illusion that the world-machine works. That's kind of a duty incumbent on all of you immortals, these days. Just until the big boss ... well, the big boss cannot be said to ever be doing or thinking or going to do or think anything, so you're not sure where that was going.

And that's why you're here at this wedding — because a hundred, two hundred years ago they realised the big kahuna might not be listening, deep down, somewhere, and so now you are the wight of the marriage bed. Some say the angel. They're not sure. You're not sure either; you have perhaps a dot more free will than angels tend to, but you find yourself doing a lot of angelic kinda work.

Is the Immanence here, like She's supposed to be? Doctrinally (you are a daimon, you don't really care about doctrine outside the mechanics of your own existence) She doesn't fuck with mixed marriages, but She also conveniently is present every time two men talk about lofty matters, yes, even if they're talking objectively heinous anti-sense about women and children and beasts. So, you know. It's kind of touch and go here. Is mixed marriage more bad than womanhatred? Very important scholars debate the issue even now. Six thousand years of debate have yielded the answer 'yeah idk probably'. You cannot perceive the Immanence. You wouldn't know.

You do, however, know the future, and in the next thousand years, thankfully, they will perfect the shaping arts and learn to make men into women, and maybe they'll all be women then, what the hell. It's an optimistic thought. The other immortals kind of snicker at you and tell you to go look forward at what they do with chymics, self-made new forms of life, in that future, and what they themselves go mad with pain and grief and loneliness and do, for which reason you kind of don't want to.

You might go and listen in on some of those last debates instead, except, again: wedding.

To your profound disappointment, this wedding expects to make you co-in-laws, sort of, with a small unfriendly god, one of the daimons that really believes in it, waves their essence around. This is... about to get really annoying.

You actually don't even dislike Sowulo. Everything you know about them boils down to the fact that they've been experimenting with themself after their mortal followers degendered them — that's the trouble with the overreliant ones, the essence moulds to the understanding of the souls they shepherd and then you end up in no end of annoying circumstances. This would be why personally you've never investigated what gender you're supposed to be. Less for your people to contradict that way. Maybe you predate gender, how's that for a thought exercise? (You don't; you were born in the middle of the Age of Chitin; they don't have to know you're something smaller and duller wearing an old god's pelt.)

And, well, it's just... they're a little weird? OK. They're a lottle weird. You are pretty sure they are, like, super mega ultra weird. The situation is like this: their people, their little guys, they used to be these peaceful cattle nomads. Then the Aeon of Sails and the Great Industrialisation, and the dire circumstances that led them into the ghettos, and so on — and somewhere in that transition, the travelling spirit of the warmth of the sun that was their constant companion came into conflict with the new State doctrine that the stars are unfeeling miasmas of incandescent plasma. (Is that doctrine? That's how you understand most things. You're not sure of the semantics.)

So now: degendered, deprived of influence, a cold light, not a warm one. Invoked, at best, at afterbirth burials, confirmations, weddings, cremations, premarital haircuttings, housewarmings, slaughters, and for the end of winter when it dies under their hand. They're annoying and dangerous and haggard and raw-voiced as a hungry buzzard because they are starving, because they have lost themself, because they don't remember what they used to be and they don't know what they want to be now.

Sometimes a ship launches from the harbour of this city, and you are there because you have one of your people to look after, and they look out at you from shore, forlorn, jealous, abandoned, so hungry. So hungry. Mourning something they half remember, something they are convinced you have. That's why they incite their sophonts to kill yours, maybe. You wouldn't know. You've never asked. You're busy doing your job, keeping those sophonts safe.

They envy you your vitality. They wish they knew what they were. They think you know what you are, and they want you to get off your inconceivably tall high horse.

You're not on a high horse. You just are, and you try to make sure your sophonts can just be, too. But Sowulo doesn't know that.

Sowulo knows that their people are small and broken and scattered, and that each wedding with any other people weakens them — weakens the people and weakens their god.

Sowulo hates you.

And, like, you don't really play favourites, all mortals are the same to you deep down, but you understand that there is a Teensy Weensy little problem, perhaps, with the favourite son of their most warlike clan's Great Chanter running away from home to elope with a witch-midwife from beyond the Pale. Not because she's yours, but that doesn't make it better. Her own huntedness and fear and old pain doesn't do anything for the situation either. Sowulo doesn't understand yet that suffering is a universal condition of settled life.

Your marriage priest, a jolly little roundish woman in veils against the interference of spirits with her work, pounds her cowhide drum and begins her chant. Sowulo's shakes his solar rattle, completely unaware that his god is seething in the rafters of the fane. Are you going to have to save his life, then, before the sun is up? This is going to be a very long, unnecessarily laborious, and probably also very interesting night.

You are a god whose most devout follower is marrying your rival God’s follower. Normally that wouldn’t be a problem except you both are asked to bless the union, and for that both of you must attend.

[mj-iza-writer]

Caretaker watched Whumpee slump onto the shopping cart while Caretaker picked out some apples.

"Whumpee, do you want oranges as well?", Caretaker gently brushed Whumpee's hair out of their face.

Whumpee looked up tiredly.

"Uh-oh, that's not a good sign", Caretaker sighed.

"Mm, ok", Whumpee mumbled.

"Read this", Caretaker held up a package.

Whumpee studied the package for a little too long.

"See you can't read English", Caretaker set the package down.

"I can barely read English on good days anyways", Whumpee sighed, "это ничего не объясняет (that doesn't explain anything)."

Caretaker set the apples in the cart, "I have a few more things to get. Can you hold out for a few more minutes?"

"Да...ye... yes", Whumpee frowned at their struggle, and finally nodded, "ymhmm", they hummed.

Caretaker sighed at the long lines.

"I'm okay", Whumpee leaned on the cart again, "just really... sleepy."

"Yes, and your accent is coming out stronger as well", Caretaker rubbed Whumpee's back.

"I'll fall asleep right here if you keep doing that", Whumpee mumbled into their arm.

Caretaker smiled weakly, "why didn't you say anything sooner?"

"I... just start feeling  dis", Whumpee stuttered, "I'm done with English... too hard."

"Just hold on until I can get to the translator at home. Please hold on", Caretaker pleaded, "I am still very new to Russian... you remember that right?"

"Да (yes)", Whumpee whispered.

"Go ahead and get comfortable on the couch. Let's take your temperature", Caretaker hurried into the kitchen, "you always get hit so hard when you get sick. It always seems to hit so sudden. Or you refuse to admit that you're sick due to your Russian stubbornness. You won't say anything until it's really bad."

Whumpee collapsed onto the couch and burried their face into one of the soft pillows.

Caretaker came out with a cup of water and the thermometer.

"Sit up, please. I need to take your temperature, and I'll need to get some medicine in you."

Whumpee moaned an unintelligible reply.

"Can you understand me?", Caretaker knelt beside the couch.

"Я то тебя отлично понимаю (I understand you perfectly well)", Whumpee mumbled into the pillow.

"I will definitely look that up later on the translator app... if I can spell it at least", Caretaker sighed, "for right now, we will pretend that you said, Caretaker is the best person alive."

Caretaker lifted Whumpee's arm and tucked the thermometer into Whumpee's armpit.

"Mmm", Whumpee moaned.

"It's either your armpit or your butt since you won't lift your head up", Caretaker waited for the ding.

"Я чувствую, что сейчас потеряю сознание (I feel like I'm going to pass out)", Whumpee glanced up from the pillow.

Caretaker frantically pulled out their phone, "Whumpee I need you to repeat that really slowly into my phone."

That was never a face you wanted Whumpee to make.

Whumpee blinked slowly, "неа (nope)", they whimpered.

Caretaker watched as Whumpee's eyes rolled back. Their head fell to the pillow. 

"Whumpee... Whumpee", Caretaker pulled them up, "Whumpee?"

Whumpee woke up to a bright light being turned on.

"Ymph, "Где Я? (Where am I)", they looked around.

"In the hospital", someone grabbed Whumpee's hand, "you about gave me a heartattack."

"I'm glad to see them awake", someone from the opposite side of the room spoke up, "their temperature was quite high, and it kept climbing. Let's check it again."

Whumpee sighed as a thermometer was placed under their tongue.

"Wut hapen?", Whumpee side-eyed Caretaker.

"Please don't talk while the thermometer is in your mouth", the person sighed.

"I'm just glad they are talking in English, they switched to Russian on me", Caretaker squeezed Whumpee's hand.

"Is that normal?", the person looked at Whumpee with concern, "temp is still ellevated."

"Yes, it's their first language. It's easier for them to speak it. Except it makes it harder for those who don't understand. Such as when you tell someone you are going to pass out", Caretaker glared at Whumpee.

"I'm sorry... I couldn't remember how to say it", Whumpee whispered sadly, "everything was fuzzy and echoey."

Caretaker watched as the person left the room.

"We need to work on your English", Caretaker smirked.

"I understand and can speak English just fine. We need to work on your Russian", Whumpee sighed.

Caretaker squeezed Whumpee's hand again, "I thought you had died."

"I'm sorry Caretaker", Whumpee whispered, "I didn't mean to scare you. It happened quickly, and I couldn't form the right words."

"It's alright, I'm just happy to be talking to you again", Caretaker smiled weakly, "I don't know what I'd do if I lost you."

"Eh, you'll manage", Whumpee sat up.

Caretaker took the chance and got up to hug Whumpee.

"Что делаешь? (what are you doing?)", Whumpee grunted.

"What does it look like I'm doing?", Caretaker laughed while still hugging Whumpee, "let me hug you."

Whumpee sighed and patted Caretaker's back, "I'm sorry I scared you."

Caretaker sighed in relief, "it's okay. I'm just glad you're awake."

Taglist. As always please let me know if you want to be added or taken off of the list. It's not a problem at all.

@weirdthingweee @the-beasts-have-arrived

@sacredwrath @porschethemermaid

@monarchthefirst @generic-whumperz

@bloodyandfrightened @freefallingup13

@notpeppermint @cyborg0109

@idontreallyexistyet @painfulplots

@whumpbump @everythingsscary

@skittles-the-whumpee @expressionless-fr

@theforeverdyingperson @legendarydelusiongoatee

@candleshopmenace @whumpanthems

@lavndvrr @ivymyers

@starfields08000 @a-living-canvas

@lumpofsand @watermeezer

@indigoviolet311 @whumpy-mountains

@risk606 @electrons2006

@paperprinxe @whumprince

@kaz-of-crows @mis-graves

@decaffeinatedtimetraveler94 @sausages-things

@isikedmyself878 @daffyduckcommittedtaxfraud

@valravnthefrenchie @glennemerald

@jasperthecapser @does-directions

@jumpywhumpywriter @blackbirdsinatrenchcoat

@mylifeisonthebookshelf @thenormalestever

@whatwhump @galatic-worm

@starmoon-constellation @bacillusinfection

[sevenmerrymagpies]

Potato Chip

Happy Valentine's Day to the couple walking back to their place tonight carrying bags of potato chips. You inspired me.

Steve gets Eddie the wrong Valentine's Day gift.

Smoking weed and blow jobs under the cut.

Potato Chip

It probably wasn't the best time to ask, but Steve was baked, and no one here would care. It wasn't like they all didn't know already, anyway. Steve was already pressed against Eddie, from his little toe all the way up his leg and hip, tangling their arms together and bumping shoulders as they wrestled for space on the couch together. 

Eddie toked and held the blunt for Steve, who obliged by taking his own toke, before he leaned over Steve - grabbing a grope with his hidden hand - as he passed the blunt to Argyle. As Eddie withdrew, Steve whispered, "What do you wanna do for Valentine's Day."

It was a bad time to ask, and like a month out, but Steve hadn't celebrated a Valentine's Day with a dude before, and he was kind of excited about it. Plus, this was his first Valentine's Day since 1984, which didn't make him feel kind of pathetic. He always had a date, but fuck if a second date with a girl who could barely stand him but wanted to see if the rumors about his big dick were true was only one step up from being single. And only because he got laid.

So, it didn't matter if it was a bad time to ask. What mattered was that it was on his mind, and he was too stoned to think it through. 

Eddie, though, Eddie was maybe just too stoned. "Potato chip."

"What?" Steve asked. If Eddie wanted potato chips, he could do that, but he wasn't sure exactly what that meant? 

"What?" Eddie asked as if he finally realized Steve was talking to him.

"What?" Jon asked from where he was lying on the floor. 

"Who?" Argyle laughed. "I've heard this sketch before."

Nancy giggled from where she was lying down between Argyle, who was half-draped on the couch, and Jon on the floor. "Who."

"Like an owl," Argyle agreed before he started hooting like an owl. 

"Doctor?" Robin asked at the same time.

"Oh, Will watches that on PBS," Jon said. 

Argyle continued to hoot.

"I think this conversation is going over my head," Steve admitted.

"I'm hungry," Eddie said. "I'm raiding the kitchen."

"Bring back chips," Robin called out over Argyle, Jon, and Nancy, hooting at each other.

"Yeah, duh." 

+++

Steve only realized as he was walking with Eddie into his house that perhaps, just maybe, he should have asked again. Or thought about it more? 

"I brought the good stuff," Eddie said as he kicked off his shoes before he wandered into the house towards the den. 

"The good stuff?" Steve asked, not really paying attention because he was suddenly very unsure about his plans for their evening.

"California weed from Argyle?" Eddie asked, turning around.

"Is that a question?"

"It is now, I thought the plan was to get high, make out, and crash here? I already let Wayne know I'm staying the night? I thought the plan was I'm bringing the weed, and you were supplying the lube?"

"Did we talk about this?" Steve asked worried that he was starting to forget whole conversations. Maybe Robin was right, and those concussions really were going to have a lasting impact on his brain.

"Uh, of course-"Eddie trailed off as his eyes widened. "Uh, I thought that- But now I'm thinking about it, I'm pretty sure my thoughts stayed thoughts, and I never answered your question?"

"My question?"

"What I wanted to do for Valentine's Day. You asked, like, last month."

"You told me this?"

"I'm not so sure that I did."

"Because you told me something, but-"

"I told you something?"

"Uh, why don't you come into the kitchen and see for yourself?"

Eddie blinked a few times before he dashed off to the kitchen, Steve scrambling to keep up behind him. 

"What the?" Eddie shouted as Steve rounded the corner to the kitchen.

"Surprise!" Steve tried to bring enthusiasm to his voice, but he was seriously doubting himself right now.

"What is all this?" Eddie asked, gesturing to the kitchen island. 

Steve had decked out the island with three large bowls of chips. One plain, one sour cream and chive (Eddie's favorite), and the final was a crinkle cut. Steve had prevaricated on that choice a lot. Should he get a third flavor like BBQ? Or should it all be plain chips to compliment the dips? But not getting Eddie his favorite wasn't a good idea. So he compromised and got Eddie's favorite and two plain ones in different textures. 

God, he probably overthought something so stupid. 

He'd also made a handful of dips. Onion dip, of course. Then there was a homemade ranch he made with buttermilk - he now had so much buttermilk in his fridge that he had to figure out how to finish. There was a veggie dip that Robin really liked. It was green and almost like having a vegetable. Healthyish. Then, finally, there was millionaire dip - an old family favorite with bacon, cheddar, and chive. 

"Uh. Ta-da!" Steve said, his voice fading. "Potato chip feast!"

"Is this for us?"

"Technically, it's for you because you asked for potato chips?"

"Potato chips?" Eddie said, finally turning to Steve and stalking towards him. 

"You said, and I quote, 'potato chip'."

"Nothing about lube?" Eddie asked, getting up in Steve's space and pushing him back into the hallway wall. 

"Uh, nope. I mean, I have some upstairs, but I didn't get anything special."

"You just got me-"

"Potato chip. Yup."

Eddie's confused expression broke like dawn as he loomed over Steve, slumped against the wall, looking up at his boyfriend. "You made me a potato chip feast because I was so high that I told you 'potato chip' and didn't tell you what I actually wanted?"

Steve sighed. "I know I should have-"

"Shhh, shhh, shhh," Eddie said as he held up his finger against Steve's lips. "This is amazing, and I'm getting the feeling that you don't realize how amazing it is."

"But this isn't even-"

"No, this is better. We can get shit-faced and feast. No, wait. We can fuck and then get shit-faced and feast." Eddie said as he lowered himself to his knees.

"Uh," Steve said, still not having caught up with Eddie.  It didn't matter, though, because Eddie pulled out Steve's half-hard dick and swallowed it down. "Oh, shit."

Eddie hummed as he worked his mouth up and down Steve's rapidly hardening shaft. 

"I guess," Steve breathed out and worked to keep his hips still. "You like your gift."

Eddie's response was to pull Steve's balls out and fondle them, which always made Steve's knees melt. 

"Fuck, Eddie."

Eddie didn't respond; he just kept sucking Steve's brain out of his dick until he couldn't think straight. He didn't last long, couldn't like this. Steve came with a grunt, and Eddie swallowed every last drop.

Steve was still stupid from how quickly Eddie had worked him over. Eddie tucked Steve back in his pants before he stood up and kissed Steve. A hint of the bleachy taste of his spunk was on Eddie's lips. Shit, did that get him going. 

"Let's take this upstairs, huh?" Eddie said. "You got that lube, right?"

"Yeah," Steve breathed out, letting Eddie drag him upstairs. "Yeah, I have lube."

"And the dips will keep?"

Steve blinked. "Uh, for a bit. Sure."

"Cool. I don't think I'm gonna last long tonight, anyway. We can do something more elaborate tomorrow. Now let's go celebrate Valentine's Day."

[cheralith]

Hear me out

More on the Blk×hp crossover because it has taken over my life

Okay, Kaiser hears a rumour that you and isagi are dating.

This infuriates kaiser to no end. He doesn't know why it pisses him off. He's being extra mean to you, and you can't seem to figure out why. Don't even get me started on Quidditch. He's got it out for Isagi, he's more aggressive towards poor isagi. What if Isagi gets hurt? You're tending to him and omgg it gets him . Bro is loosing his shit atp.

If he sees you guys together at Hogsmeade on Valentine's day...

I just want to see his ass suffer and when he realizes that it's false information lmfao 🤣 and bro was torturing himself (and poor Ness #nessdeservesbetter😔 #justiceforness) over nothing

Yeahh that's it. Please forgive me if there're any grammatical errors

Take care.

Happy Valentines 💝

characters ; michael kaiser

contains ; hogwarts au, slytherin!kaiser, ravenclaw!reader, gryffindor!isagi, mild violence

happy (late) valentine's day, angel! you've put me in a ditzy because of this ask, so i thank you kindly for feeding into my daydreams i quite like this stupid little white boy <3 (also i said in a previous post that yoichi would be a ravenclaw, but i think he suits gryffindor a lil more ngl esp after ch293 :P)

kaiser would most DEFINITELY be the type of person to let out his anger through his playing, so expect there to be a ton of fouls from him during the gryffindor vs. slytherin match because he just "accidentally" keeps running into isagi, nearly knocking him off his broom more than ounce. it doesn't help that there's been whispers circulating that there's been confirmation of you and isagi officially being a couple after the many speculations from stray eyes that keep a rather close eye on you and him. the golden boy of gryffindor and the ace of ravenclaw... many would agree that you and him would be power couple in the halls of hogwarts, completely disregarding kaiser. it didn't help that evidently, you and isagi got along much better than you and kaiser did, sharing soft smiles and joyous laughter amongst each other rather than hardened glares and quick-witted insults. you were best friends after all, not sworn rivals like you and he were.

slytherin ends up winning the match, kaiser rising victorious by scoring the winning goal to break the tie, but he can't really celebrate his win in full because he sees you later tidying up some wounds and scratches isagi had gotten from the match in the preparation tent. his jaw grits, watching the intimate scene unfurl before him.

isagi hisses through his teeth when you gently place the cotton bud on an open wound on his elbow.

you wince, pulling your hand back. "i'm sorry..."

"no," isagi shakes his head, encouraging you to keep going. "i'm fine, it just stings a bit, 's all..."

you look at him with a doubtful countenance, but dab the alcohol-soaked cotton bud anyway, trying not to notice the way isagi's eyes close in pain. tenderly, you place a band-aid on the skin before you soak another cotton bud and move to the scratch on his cheek, your fingers brushing his reddened cheek (the hue unnoticed by you) when you repeat the process to help disinfect and clean up the small gash.

"he's such a bastard," you mutter softly, "he should've gotten a foul when he nearly knocked you into the hufflepuff stands."

isagi shrugs, "it is what it is."

"is it me or did he seem more pissed than usual?" you inquire, your fingers smoothing over the bandage you've placed over the cut. "like he was taking his anger on you specifically. did you do something to him?"

"hell if i know," isagi sighs, rolling his eyes. "it's hard to read kaiser."

kaiser's eyes narrow as you hold isagi's face in your palm, his nails digging into his palms as he watches you examine him for any spare injuries you didn't tend to. not wanting to infuriate himself with this meddling nonsense, he decides to replace the feeling with pride and glory, stomping out of the tent and replacing the loud throbbing in his ears with the cheers of his fellow slytherins that shout his name in a steady beat as he appears before him.

he bathes in the glory for a bit, letting his ego fill with the approvals of his audience, though from the corner of his eye, he catches a blur of blue and red walk side by side together out of the arena, arm in arm.

on valentine's day, kaiser receives bucketloads of chocolates from his admirers, both known and unknown. he waves them off when ness presents them, going downstairs to fetch some breakfast, only for him to see you hand isagi a medium-sized golden box of chocolates shaped in a diamond that he accepts gratefully, a large smile on his face before he gives you a bag of candies. you go and give your other friends the same chocolates, a small personalized envelope with a card glued onto the front of it, their names all written in a pretty cursive.

he ditches breakfast, deciding he'll eat later and runs up back to his dorm. for some reason this year, unlike the prior ones, he actually shuffles through all the boxes trying to look for a peculiar, diamond shaped one, and he does find it to his satisfaction. he pulls it out so fast from the pile and rips open the card, anticipating a specific someone's name to be signed at the bottom.

... but his face contorts into irritation when an unknown girl's name is read. who the hell is "imogen?"

he tosses the letter over his shoulder, thinking this was stupid. no way did he just spend fifteen minutes attempting to find a box of chocolates from you, knowing the tense relationship between you and him. of course you wouldn't give him any—you weren't even friends! so why the sudden spark of hope...?

kaiser's valentine's day turns even more sour when he tries to distract himself and goes to hogsmeade to fix himself up some firewhiskey, only to see you and isagi in the window of honeydukes, examining candy together. this didn't seem to be a group trip either, considering he didn't recognize anyone else that you were friends with in the store, so you and him must've went together.

right—he nearly forgot. you were a couple now. of course you'd be spending the holiday of love together. that's just common sense.

"you think she'll like this?" isagi asks you, holding up a basket assortment of many candies. "i don't know what she really likes, so i was thinking i'd play it safe and just get her everything."

you grin and throw him a thumbs up. "good move, i think she'd quite like that. maybe throw in that teddy bear we saw earlier."

he nods with a blush on his face that you can only giggle at. you've never seen your best friend so giddy before, especially since he'll be having his first date with the hufflepuff girl in his astronomy class he's been admiring, a pride within you blooming when he told you excitedly this morning that he'd be going to madame puddifoot's soon with her.

"i'm gonna go pay and then go get ready back at my dorm," says isagi as he nudges his head towards the cash register, the gifts he holds in his hands starting to tumble out of his grasp a little. "i'll see you later at dinner to tell you how everything went!"

"good luck! don't be nervous!" you call out to him when he shuffles through the crowd before returning your attention to examine the luxury chocolates they had just imported from belgium.

a shadow looms over you suddenly, and you feel the temperature drop a bit from the air around you. there's an impending sense of doom that pits itself in your stomach, so it doesn't take you too long to discover the identity of the tattooed hand that snatches the box of chocolates you were examining away.

your jaw ticks.

"i was looking at that," you mutter with irritation, slowly turning back around to face a familiar blonde. "... kaiser."

"hm," kaiser merely hums back nonchalantly, eyes flickering over the assortment of flavors indicated on the back. "never thought you'd have such a sophisticated sweet tooth," he mutters as he reads over the unique flavor profiles of each chocolate.

"god forbid someone wants to go out of their comfort zone," you roll your eyes obnoxiously before picking up another box to assess, not wanting to bother to get back the previous one you were holding. of course somehow kaiser makes your life ten times more difficult whenever he was around, even off campus grounds.

the assortments look so tasty, you think, reading over the details of the feuilletine truffle. maybe you should treat yourself this valentine's day, relishing in fancy chocolates and curling up with a good book sounds like your ideal day of rest. you think you deserve an upgrade from the casual chocolates you were used to purchasing for a quick fix...

... until you look at the price of the box of chocolates.

your eyes nearly bulge out of their head when you read the price.

"forty five galleons?!" you whisper-shout under your breath, only loud enough for the man behind you to hear. kaiser's eyes flicker towards your astonished visage. "merlin, was this made out of unicorn hair or something?!"

you sigh and place the box down on the shelf again, choosing to return back to the safety of the generic honeydukes chocolate bar instead of wasting your money on something that'd disappear all too quickly.

"you're not gonna get it?" kaiser inquires as you begin to look for a way out of the chocolates area.

"as if i have that kind of money," you snort haughtily.

"then ask your boyfriend to buy it. it's valentine's day after all," kaiser snarks back, the words coming out of his lips faster than he's able to fully process them. he curses himself in his mind when he realizes what he's said, revealing the fact that your status as a couple wasn't as hidden as some may say.

"huh?" you turn back with a confused look. "boyfriend? what?"

it's kaiser's turn to look perplexed. "your boyfriend?" he repeats and pokes a stray strand of hair from the top of his head to mimic an ahoge. "yoichi isagi? golden boy of gryffindor? sound familiar?"

your brows furrow and you wonder if he's making fun of you.

"yoichi and i aren't dating," you counter back. "who told you that?"

the way kaiser feels relieved feels unnatural, like a giant weight had just been unburdened from his shoulders. he shouldn't even be feeling this heaviness in the first place, but he did and now it's gone just from the mere words that counter his initial belief.

... he still feels relieved, oddly enough.

"i—" kaiser starts, but draws blanks when he attempts to cover up his nasty acceptance of a mere rumor, feeling idiotic he had believed such a thing so fast and so intently. "it's just floating about. since y'know, you guys are so close... and stuff," he mutters hotly.

your lip curls in annoyance. "never thought you'd be one to accept rumors so loosely," you mimic his tone from earlier, crossing your arms. a vein pops in kaiser's forehead at your arrogance, and he opens his mouth to give you a snide response back, but you begin to turn on your heel.

"don't believe such stupid shit so fast," you say, waving a hand to indicate your leave. "it won't do you good in the long-run."

kaiser is eventually left alone in the chocolate aisle, a little flabbergasted at what just happened. he watches you as you exit the store by yourself, choosing not to buy anything while he's in the vicinity. a warmth blooms within kaiser's chest however, when he repeats your denial of a relationship in his head.

"yoichi and i aren't dating."

"they're not dating," kaiser mumbles to himself as he grips the box of expensive chocolates in his hands with a small smile. "yeah... they're not dating."

that evening, you later find a delicately wrapped box placed on your desk with your name on it. you take off the green ribbon and rip open the white wrapping paper and widen your eyes to what's revealed from inside.

it was the box of expensive belgian chocolates you were looking at just hours beforehand. you're astonished, thinking who on earth had spend this much money on you when you try and find the sender of the package, only to be met with a short, mysterious inscription on the back of the box's lid.

"happy valentine's day. eat well and enjoy." —🌹

[buubonita]

This is too messy but no worries i will try to explain the connections and I ADDED the "its complicated" label because i can and relationships can be and are soooo pretty complicated sometimes and your perspective of that person can always change like the weather,, or in fact, they have a dynamic that is difficult for me to explain personally.

Lets start nyao! oh boy this is LONG.

Nightmare & Dream: its complicated. They have mixed feelings all the time, there are times when they genuinely can't stand each other, but their family love remains intact, only sometimes, living together is difficult. I dont think Nightmare hates Dream genuinely, just for moments, and i am speaking more from someone who haves a twin.

I'm not saying that the situation is the same because my brother and I are not at war, lol, I'm saying that disagreeing and fighting with the person with whom you have shared memories and time since the cradle is a constant.

Dream & Blue & Ink: Found Family & friends. I just like to think that they, rather than a poly like fans insist, function more like an imperfect but still functioning family.

Dream & Ink: Friends/It's complicated. Dream and Ink have mainly disenchanted ideals, but they can coexist without resentment. I think they care about each other.

Ink & Error: enemies/frenemies. Self-explanatory.

Error, Geno & Fresh: family found. I love to think that the three of them have an inexplicable connection, something rooted in their codes. I know that Fresh is an outcode, but the body they posses, I like to think that it is a variant of Aftertale Sans (not Geno, the other Sans) <3

Blue, Sans & Fell: I love the idea my besties proposed that there are TWO Underswap Sans in the multiverse (Blueberry belongs to the Stars and Swap makes up the Sans and Fell group). They are good friends and super hilarious together <33

Reaper & Geno: Secret 3rd thing. I wont explain it here tho.

Fatal Error & Error: they hate each other to death.

Fresh and Lust: Secret 3rd option! I like to think that they actually get along really well. They go to disco nights together on Saturday nights fr.

Horror, Dust & Fell: besties. They can be besties okay, i loveeee the idea of Horror and Fell getting along with Dust as their main bond, point in common. If Fell could help Dust, he maybe could help Horror <33

Killer & Color: besties and QRP. I dont have much to say that someone hasn't already said , they are cute! Super adorable as well :3

Killer, Dust and Horror: Frienemies, its complicated. Their relationship It is quite turbulent and there are moments of horrible tension between them, the atmosphere in which they meet is not very good and does not help either, but they are companions in misfortune who try to move forward. I like to think that I could improve with the help of Color (who I forgot to put in the circle but the board already looks terrible!!!) Anyways MTT + Color is defo my thing <33

Dust & Reaper: Acquaintances. Reaper has seen Dust a lot during his endless encounters with The Player. He keeps tempting him to shake his hand like a new friend, hehe <33

Nightmare & Killer: Its complicated, enemies & secret 3rd thing. I've said it before, Killer and Nightmare's relationship is so weird, at least from my perspective, it has so much potential, so many nuances to explore that it's hard to classify what the hell they are. They don't even know what they are or what they have, they think they know each other but there are always details that escape them. Do they hate each other? Maybe. Do they need each other? Who knows. It's weird. They're fucking weird. And I love it, because Nightmare and Killer don't have the same dynamic or personal history that Nightmare and Horror and Dust do. One of my faves.

Color & Nightmare: Enemies. Its complicated. Rahhhh i have been CRAVING more Nightmare and Color content focused, how troubled Nigtjmare actions can be for Color and how it goes against his morals. Id say Color hates him, not totally, but definitely Nightmare "makes it very difficult to be able to help him" and thats a common point he haves with Dream.

Nightmare & Ccino: its complicated, secret 3rd thing aaand enemies. Ccino hates Nightmare for so many reasons, but the main one is the most wrong and absurd: he abandoned him.

Eldritch entity and totally tired mortal quth mundane life have a connection incomprehensible to the established parameters of society or regulations. My favorite.

Ccino @ everyone: is on the image but i think Ccino would know everyone at least because his café is a multiversal meeting point.

Epic & Cross: besties & QRP. They are so lovey, so cute, so beautiful, i love what they have so much.

Cross & Dream: Secret 3rd thing <33 they are very good friends and... :3c

Epic & Nightmare: Enemies & Acquaintances. Epic only knows about Nightmare through word of mouth, but he doesn't like what little he knows. I think he's secretly very resentful towards people who hurt the ones he loves (Cross, Color).

Epic & Dream: Acquaintances. I like to think that Dream is the only one who has seen Epic lose/destroy his body to the point where only his cursed eye remains intact. Something about out-of-body experiences he has suffered since he is a being of light residing in a vessel.

But in general, Epic does not interact and stays away from the apple twins because of their empathic abilities (an apple a day keeps the doctor...).

And thats it. I have a lot of other ideas that I left out the chart but imma write here hheehehe.

Like the fact that Dust and Epic could be friends (and their relationship is a bit rocky because Epic seems to treat Dust like a patient kjj and how that brings problems, as if Epic wanted to fix something of his own by helping and supporting him in his vocation as a doctor, yadda yadda)

Oooor like, fucking Reaper and the twins. Reaper seeing some of the contempt and rejection he himself suffers in his own universe??? That ALMOST inspires some pity, but I'd say it's more towards poor passive/past Nightmare than anything else.

Reaper and Dream should and are friends. I like the idea that Dream is one of the few who laughs at Reaper's shitty jokes (besides Geno) and feels bad about it because of his dark humor.

Nightmare hates Reaper becaaause, what a redundancy, what he personifies and not what he is and that is what prevents Reaper from feeling sorry for Nightmare despite having gone through similar but not at all identical situations <33

Or maybe Color and The Stars (or Color and Dream specially, please, yes?)

Prolly i am forgetting things but whatever this is long enough, i hope the artist doesn't minds ;;0;;

Again this is, like everything i say, my opinion <3

Ship chart but it’s not a ship chart it’s a friendship/found family/QPR chart

[crusty-chronicles]

Valentine's Day Special

Featuring HxH, YYh, and for a limited time Death Note

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Hunter x Hunter

Knov 👔👔👔👔👔

It's a hard no for him

He won't even entertain the thought

“You're not a worm.”

“But if I was, would you love me 🥺”

“No.”

“But what if-” and he cuts you off with a heavy sigh.

“I love you just the way you are. You're perfect. And if you want me to prove it to you, we'll go on a date right now. Anywhere, no matter how far or how expensive.”

He moves forward to cup your face sweetly.

“Is that a satisfactory answer, my dear.”

You can't help but take a little advantage of the situation. A cheeky grin on your face 

“You're taking a month long vacation with me.”

“So be it.”

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

Kurapika ⛓️⛓️⛓️⛓️⛓️

He has to do a double take first, letting the words process for a moment.

When he does, he rubs a hand to his temple.

“No.”

He's very much exhausted, so he doesn't take the question all that seriously.

Not like it was a very serious one to begin with.

But he notices you pouting after he gave his answer.

So he ends up laying his head on your lap when he gets the chance.

“I'd love you no matter what. You know that right?”

And the vulnerability of his confession makes your heart melt.

“I know. I was just being silly….But if you were a worm I'd still love you.”

You can hear him let out an amused huff.

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

Kite🪁🪁🪁🪁🪁

Poor thing is so confused.

“No?” He said unsure.

He genuinely can't tell if you're being serious or not. 

And the last thing he wants is to make you upset from his answer 

But this isn't serious, it can't be. So if he answered you honestly, you shouldn't be mad.

He notices you trying to hide back your laughter seeing him struggle to formulate a proper answer.

He knows for sure then you're messing with him.

And he's embarrassed he gave it any thought at all.

“You're such a pain, you know that?” He tried to hide his flustered expression.

But you followed next to him persistently.

“You love me~”

He looked at you from the corner of his eye.

“Not as a worm I won't.”

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

Morel🚬🚬🚬🚬🚬

He can't help but laugh at the question.

It's so bizarre. And he thinks he's getting too old for this crap.

But despite it, he humors you.

“You know what? Sure.”

“Really!?! You’re so sweet!!!”

The way your eyes light up almost makes him feel bad for his next choice of words.

Almost.

“Yeah. Good source of protein.”

You give his arm a swat with a glare.

“I take it back. You're a jerk.😠”

Before you can slip away, he's wrapping his arms around you to pull you close.

“You could've just asked me normally, you know.”

Asked if he loved you point blank and simple.

 “The answer's still yes by the way.”

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Ging🎣🎣🎣🎣🎣

He smiles at you, but it's not a lovey dovey soft one.

Oh no.

It's mischievous and playful.

Not a very good sign for you.

“I'd tie you to end of my fishing pole and use you as bait. Then when a fish tries to eat you, I'll pick it up and tell it to unhand my girlfriend/boyfriend.”

You can't help but facepalm at his very obvious attempt to get under your skin.

“You know what? Forget I asked.”

“What!?! You wanted to know!”

“You're supposed to say, ‘Of course I'd still love you. I'd love you in every life and every form.” 

“Ha! Screw all that sappy crap.”

You turned your head away from him and crossed your arms.

“C’mon. Don't be all mad. The fact that I'm here means I care about you.”

“Care?”

“I'm not gonna say it.”

You flash him and unimpressed look that makes him give in.

“Fine. I…Like …You.”

“Keep going.”

“The way…That … you are.”

“Was that so hard?”

“I'd rather tell my son where I am.”

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Leorio 🩺🩺🩺🩺🩺

He gives you a deadpanned look. One that says the answer should be obvious.

But in case it isn't, he explains anyway.

“Babe, you're the only one who's genuinely shown interest in me. If you think being a worm is gonna get you out of this relationship, you're dead wrong.”

You do your best to hide your smile.

“So it's a yes then?”

“I wouldn't care if you were a fly or a pile of crap. You're mine, you hear me!”

Maybe a little crude, but he gets his point across nevertheless.

You reward him with a smooch on the cheek. Watching in amusement as his face heats up.

“Oh stop, my beating heart!”

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

Wing👓👓👓👓👓

It doesn't even take him a second to answer.

“Of course I'd still love you.”

You knew what he'd say, how could you not. But you wanted to tease him just a little.

“How would you even know it was me though?”

He looked in thought for a second, lighting up when he figured out his response.

“Your body language! You'd probably inch your way towards me, and I'd know.”

But he wasn't done there.

“I could pick you out in a sea of thousands even now. How would I not recognize you?”

You don't think you've ever been anymore in love.

Listening intently as he listed off everything he knew about you.

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

Knuckle🐕🐕🐕🐕🐕

Now, he knows what he wants to say.

It'd be a yes obviously.

But he thinks about it. Really thinks about it.

You'd be so tiny. So fragile.

He didn't want to hurt you accidentally.

So he proposed something better. Much better if you might add.

“We could be worms together 👉👈”

He's so sweet, you think you might just melt.

“Of course we could be worms together.”

“Really? I'd fight off all the other worms so they'd know you were mine!”

“I'm sure you would, sweetheart.”

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Yu Yu Hakusho

Hiei ⚔️⚔️⚔️⚔️⚔️

“No.”

You must think him a fool to ask something so ridiculous. 

He doesn't want to give it any thought at all. But you wouldn't give up so easily.

“What do you mean no!?!”

“Why the hell would I love a worm!?!”

And then he has to do a double take of what he just said.

“No, why the hell am I actually taking you seriously. Maybe I am a fool after all.” He grumbles under his breath.

Unaware of you beaming at him. That is, until he heard you speak.

“Because you love me 🥺 even as a worm.”

“I'll kill you.”

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Kurama 🦊🦊🦊🦊🦊

He wants to say no, but he won't do it. 

He doesn't want to hurt your feelings.

And he knows you're not being serious anyway.

“Yes. I'd make a garden for you.”

“With roses?” You prompt.

“With roses. I'd make sure the soil has the perfect pH for you.”

He enjoys the playful smile on your lips. But he adores the softer ones even more.

“In all seriousness, I couldn't imagine my life being the same without you.” He starts before leaning his head against yours.

“I revere you. Regardless of what form you take in this life or the next.”

You reward him with a kiss, which he eagerly returns.

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Yusuke 💥💥💥💥💥

His answer honestly depends on what mood he's in. If he's in a really good mood, he'll give a small laugh. 

Calling you weird before answering honestly.

“Hell yeah! I'd put you in a cup and take you everywhere. Then if a bird tried to swoop down, I'd barbecue it for you!”

He means it, too.

He's already gone through hell and back to keep you safe.

If you think he'll love you any less because you were a worm, you'd be dead wrong.

“Aw babe, you'd fight for me even if I was a worm?”

He's all smiles describing the way he'd show off to defend you from threats.

Threats being frogs, lizards, birds, the occasional snot nosed brat.

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Jin 🌪️🌪️🌪️🌪️🌪️

“A worm, huh? Aw. You'd be so tiny. But I'm afraid I'd lose ya. Flying about and all that.”

It's actually surprising he's giving it as much thought as he was. But it endears him to you all the same 

“You could tie me on a string.” You suggested.

He swoops you in a hug and swings you around.

“See? That's why I love you so much. You're so smart.”

“And you have a heart of gold. My sweet boy,” you coo.

You can see his ears start twitching, a telltale sign he's happy.

“So you'd still love me then?” You ask once more.

“I'd love ya even if you were as gross as Bakken. And that's saying somethin.”

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Death Note

L 🍰🍰🍰🍰🍰

He doesn't spare you a second glance from the computer screen in front of him. 

“Why do you always ask the most ridiculous of questions?”

“So you wouldn't love me if I was a worm?”

“No.”

🥺

He can tell you're pouting.

At last tearing his gaze away from the brightness of the screen in front of him.

He can see your somewhat dejected posture.

And if you're upset, you're not focused. Which means he's not focused. The effect you have on him is strange. 

It's something he both hates and likes.

“Is this one of those questions lovers ask each other when they're seeking out validation? Or do you want me to prove my devotion through words?”

 “Maybe.”

He gives out a small sigh before speaking.

“Fine then, I'll play along. Yes I'd love you if you were a worm.”

“Liar. I know you don't mean it.”

“You're right I don't. Anyways-”

You think that's the end of that. That he won't give the interaction a second thought.

You were wrong.

He leaves a piece of strawberry cake by your bedside the next morning.

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Ryuk 📓📓📓📓📓

“What's that?”

You show him a picture of one.

“Oh? Ew gross.”

“What do you mean gross ☹️”

“Yeah no. You're on your own. I'd probably step on you for fun.”

He's laughing at you, so you decide to spite him.

“You know what? No apples for a month.”

“Wait!!!!! Of course I'd love you as a worm. Worms look delicious.”

“Now you're making it weird.”

“Well whaddya want me to say?!?!”

“Something normal???”

“Well I ain't normal. I’m a god. The only things I love unconditionally are apples.”

“Fine. Would you still love me if I was an apple?"

He actually gives it thought for a few seconds.

“I'd do my best not to eat you. But we both know you wouldn't last five seconds. So I guess I'd still love you. Probably more than I do now.”

“Hey!!!!! 👹👹👹”

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Misa 💅💅💅💅💅

“Oh my gosh! YESSSS!”

She genuinely gets so excited by the question.

“Only if you'd love me back if I were a worm.”

The two of you start feeding off of each other's encouragement.

“We could make a heart!”

“And live in our own little soil house 🥺🥺🥺”

“Babe!!!! We could wear cute little leaf outfits!!!!”

“And match!!!!!!!!!!”

“We'd be the most fashionable, cutest worms to ever exist!”

“We'd totally be a power couple!!!!”

Y'all are just giggling with each other, planning out your worm future.

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

An: HAPPY VALENTINE'S DAY!!!!!

[lycheeloving]

Second chapter!! Happy Valentine's day <3

Bruce finds you at work and doesn't leave you alone.

< first chapter

The next day at work, it all feels like a fever dream. Did you really meet Bruce Wayne? And talk to him all night? You feel a bit nauseous just thinking about it, but you just remind yourself that you'll never see him again. Even if you did get along really well...

Whatever, you'll just daydream about kissing him in the moonlight, that's just as fun as the real thing, right? Not that you could compare it to the real thing,  you'd have to kiss someone at some point to know what it's like.

Maybe you should have kissed Bruce yesterday, he certainly seemed like he would have been ok with that, but that was probably just wishful thinking anyways. Oh well, too late now.

The bell that lets you know somebody entered the store rings and rips you out of your thoughts. Fuck. You hate when there's costumers, which is why you chose to work at the shittiest bookstore in Gotham. And are hiding in the back.

You're supposed to say something like "I'll be right with you!", but you're not going to do that. You hate talking loudly. Especially to strangers, especially when you can't even see them. But you never even say anything when you're out in the front and making direct eye contact with them, so whatever. You just hope they won't ask you for help with finding anything, just having to ring them up is bad enough...

Why do you have to get costumers at all? Fuck, you should really look for a job with less contact to people, but this is the best you've been able to find so far.

You reluctantly leave the safety of the back room, only to find a guy in an oversized hoodie and sunglasses absolutely beaming at you. Why is he looking at you like that? Should you know him?

Only when he takes the sunglasses off do you realize that it's Bruce. No way, how did he find you? You feel your palms getting sweaty.

"Finally! I found you! Do you know how hard it was to find this book store with the minimal description you gave me?" 

Not hard enough, apparently, considering that he was able to find you this soon. It hasn't even been a full day!

He's still smiling at you. "I've been to multiple book stores this morning! I'm so glad you told me you'd be working today, or I would have had to ask everyone if you're one of their coworkers!"

"Yeah, well, if I had wanted you to show up here, I would have given you more details, probably." You deadpan, hoping your voice isn't shaking.

He's not deterred, he just keeps talking as if you hadn't said anything: "Wanna get lunch with me? When's your break? We could go to that café around the corner that I saw on my way here!"

Is he not getting that you don't want him here? Well, you do want him here, but you don't. You want him to think you don't want him here so he'll leave before you can embarrass yourself.

"I can't leave for my break, I have to stay here. I'm the only one working right now, I can't just- just lock up and get something to eat." Your boss actually allowed you to do just that, but when you came back from doing it the first time, an angry costumer was waiting for you and yelled at you for 10 minutes about how it's rude to just close the store in the middle of the day. You don't want a repeat of that, so you started eating your lunch at work whenever there were no costumers. Which is almost always, luckily.

"I could go get you something and we can eat here! It doesn't seem like you get a lot of costumers so we won't even be disturbing anyone!" Why is he so persistent? Can't he go talk to some supermodel or something?

"I'm not hungry." You kind of are, actually.

"That's fine, we can just talk! I just wanted to spend some time with you. You know, I haven't clicked with anyone like this in a long time, I couldn't just let you go."

Wait, is he serious? Well, why else would he go through the effort of looking for you... But still, you can't quite believe it. Are you being pranked?

"You should go. What if costumers start showing up? I'm sure you don't want some weird fan to recognize you."

Bruce ignores what you say and stays. He talks to you for about half an hour, well, mostly he talks at you, until he has to leave because his lunch break is over. You just stand there, perplexed. Does he really want to hang out with you?

He returns the next day. And the next. And the next. Every day, always during his lunch break. It takes a few times until you stop trying to ignore him, a few more times until you start actually talking to him, and a few more times until you agree to eat lunch with him. Not go anywhere else, just eat your own lunch at the bookstore.

You can't stop yourself from trying to push him away a little bit, though.

You put down your fork. "You know, it's rude of you to keep visiting me at work, where I can't just leave. This is basically harassment."

"If you want me to go, I'll go. Just say so, and I'll never show up here again, I promise."

You don't want him to leave. Well, you do, because you don't want to get even more attached, but you don't, because, well, you're getting attached. You can't bring yourself to make him leave.

You huff and roll your eyes. "Whatever." You pick your fork back up and continue eating.

He tries to suppress a smile. Gross. He's so cute.

Whenever he catches you playing a silly game on your phone (which is basically every time he enters the store, as you love slacking off), he insists on befriending you on it if possible, so when you're not hanging out he'll send you a booster on your candy-crush-esque game, or play against you on a quiz app.

Sometimes he uses the chat option there to tell you to go to sleep when it's late and he catches you playing, even though he's obviously awake as well! Hypocrite. It makes you smile every time. 

One day while you're eating lunch together, a few months after he first showed up, he puts down his fork and says: "I think I need to make this more clear. I am interested in you romantically. I want to date you."

You almost spit out your lunch, but manage to swallow it without choking. "H- Wh- Huh? What?"

"We can just be friends, I'd love to be friends, we already are friends, in my opinion, but I would also love to date you. So if one day you decide that you want to date me, please let me know."

You already want to, but you will absolutely not be informing him of that, thanks. Asking for what you want? What are you, a well adjusted person? You blink owlishly at him instead of saying anything. That should suffice as a response, right? No, you should probably say something.

"...Look, even if I was interested in dating you—", which, again, you literally are, but why would you tell him that;

"—you're famous, and at some point it would come out that I was dating you, and the paparazzi would publish one single picture of me and I'd immediately panic so hard I would pass out and die. This—" You point your fork between the two of you. "—is already risky enough. Whatever this is, anyway."

Bruce, as always, chooses not to address the parts of what you were saying that were clearly your anxiety speaking and simply grins.

"So you do want to date me? It sounds to me like you're just looking for excuses. Don't worry, if I don't want anyone to know about you, noone will! People don't tend to recognize me when I'm not wearing a suit, especially in environments where they're not expecting me, so anywhere outside of my workplace and fancy parties. It's worked so far, hasn't it? Not a single person has recognized me here! Dating won't change that. So, if you do want to go on a date with me, just say the word. Please."

What word? Wait, he means that metaphorically, right? No, but seriously, what would you say, how would you say that without sounding totally weird?

"That's not what I was saying. At all. Stop misinterpreting me." You roll your eyes at him. He changes the topic, but he keeps smiling until he has to leave.

Lying awake that night, you think about what he said. Does he actually like you? Or is he just pretending, because he likes a challenge? Knew you'd be difficult to get close to, and he gets a kick from being someone's first relationship, kiss, everything, and then leaving them? You feel nauseous and you suddenly feel cold. How are you supposed to figure this out? You try to tell yourself that it's only your anxiety speaking, that Bruce is actually a nice person and wouldn't do that, but you can't quite convince yourself.

The next day, your way home after work (and after pretending your conversation with Bruce yesterday didn't happen, which luckily he played along with), you see something on the ground that reflects the light in a way that catches your eye.

What is that? It's kind of hidden behind a trash can.

You take a step closer, hoping it's not some kind of trap, but you can't think of a villain who would hide shiny things on the floor to kill civilians. At least not in that color, the Joker would make it colorful, and this object appears to be... black?

Oh, it's a Batarang! You've never seen one up close, but they can't be super rare with how often people online post about having found one, there's even one guy who collects them and has an entire wall plastered with them. Allegedly. People online are saying that most of them are probably replicas, but you can't tell, as you've never seen a real one. Until now.

That makes you think, just how many Batarangs does Batman have? More than enough if he let's random people keep them. You think about picking it up and taking it with you. It would be really cool to have a Batarang...

You reach out towards it, but stop right before you touch it. Is it stuck in the floor? Fuck, just how sharp are those things...?

Maybe you should leave it here, you'd just cut your hand open on it, trying to get it unstuck.

Plus, maybe Batman will find this one if you leave it here, and then re-use it! Reduce, re-use, recycle, Batman!

You leave it where you found it, after taking a few pictures of it as proof.

The next day, Bruce asks you if you did anything interesting yesterday, like he does every time he sees you. Usually you'd say no, but you did find that Batarang... Would Bruce care about that?

While you're contemplating, Bruce says: "You'd have said no by now if nothing had happened! Come on, please tell me?"

Fine! Whatever! You'll tell him, even if he'll probably think it's boring.

"Ok, so, on my way home yesterday... I found a Batarang. And, um, it got me thinking, well, first of all, how many of those does that guy have? If he's just leaving them lying around like that, right? Oh, and, it was so sharp, it was stuck in the floor, though I guess maybe that just means Batman is really strong? Either way, I thought he doesn't kill, right, but considering what he's working with it's a miracle no criminal has ended up dead yet, right?" You stop rambling, realizing that Bruce hasn't said anything yet. At least he appears to be amused.

"You have a lot of thoughts about Batman, huh?" He grins. "Yeah, he must have tons of those things, I've seen the posts. Did you take it with you?" He didn't respond to your killing thoughts... Oh well, you did give him a lot of information all at once.

"No, I didn't... But I thought about it! I mean, it seems like that's what everyone else is doing, but with it being stuck in the floor like that I was worried I would cut my hand open trying to get it unstuck! And with my luck there would have been germs or poison on it and my wound would have gotten infected, like, immediately, and I would have died. So I left it there for Batman to hopefully find again. I mean, he should probably be reusing the ones he already has, right? Reduce, reuse, recycle, I'm just helping Batman be more climate friendly!" There you go, rambling again.

Bruce seems almost too amused at all of this.

"Well, do you want it? I can come with you when your shift is over and help you get it unstuck, if you want. If nobody else has already taken it. I'm sure Batman won't mind. And if it ever comes out that he's not trying his best to be climate friendly, I'll personally go kick his ass, I promise."

"Uh. Um. You don't have to do that!"

"...Kick his ass or go get the batarang for you?"

"I meant getting the batarang, but also please don't fight Batman. He'd wipe the floor with you. No offense."

"Well, first of all, I think I'm just as strong as Batman-" You roll your eyes at him. Dork.

"And second of all, I don't have to get it for you, but I want to. Please let me?"

Ok. Fuck. Whatever. This is the first time you'll be seeing him outside of work, excluding your first meeting.

"Uh. Ok? I, um, my shift ends at 8."

"I'll pick you up in front of the store, then. It's a date!"

"Uh! No, well, yes, but, it- um-"

"I'm just teasing you." He winks at you. Winks! Is he trying to kill you? You turn your face towards your food so you don't have to look at him. Asshole. Stop being so hot.

Later, at 8, he's already waiting for you in front of the store while you're locking up.

"Ready to go?" He smiles.

"Uh, yeah! Sure!"

You start leading the way to where you found the batarang, talking about whatever comes to mind on the way.

Finally, about halfway on your way home, you reach the place where the batarang should be. You hope it's still there, but somebody else could have taken it. You push the trashcan it was behind to the side, and...

There it is!

"Look, it's still here!" You turn around to Bruce, smiling. He smiles back. You fight the urge to giggle or hide your face behind your hands, he needs to stop being so cute.

"Didn't you say it's stuck in the ground? Why wouldn't it be here anymore?"

"Uh, you said you'd help me get it out? Somebody else could have done the same thing!"

"Right. But they don't have my getting batarangs unstuck from the ground skills."

You roll your eyes. How often could Bruce have come in contact with a batarang? His only advantage compared to you is that he's stronger and not afraid of cutting his hand open. At least that's what you think.

You watch as he grabs the batarang and gets it unstuck in seconds. Seriously? It was that easy?

"Woah. I think I would have been able to do that myself, that looked super easy. Sorry to have made you come all this way..." Apparently it wasn't stuck in there as much as you thought? Even if a considerable part of it disappeared beneath the ground. Hm. Weird. Maybe there was a batarang shaped hole there before it landed there? Or Bruce is just a lot stronger than he looks.

"No, I'm glad I came along! I wouldn't have wanted you to cut yourself accidentally." He wraps the batarang in a piece of fabric. Some kind of rich people tissue, maybe.

"Let me carry it home for you?" He looks at you in a way that makes you melt a little bit. Ok, fine.

"Oh, uh, sure!" You did enjoy walking around with him. And not just because walking with someone in Gotham is safer than doing it alone.

"Also we could maybe order dinner? And eat together at your place?" And let him into your apartment that's not cleaned up? That looks shitty even when it is cleaned up?

"Don't push it."

"Or we could go somewhere? I'll pay, of course."

And absolutely embarrass yourself and make him never want to see you again and talk about you to journalists that you're a horrible person, which gets published in every newspaper ever so you have to move and change your name? Ok, maybe that was a bit dramatic.

Bruce can clearly see the anxiety on your face.

"It doesn't have to be a date, if you don't want that."

Be brave! Be brave! You can do this!

"Uh." You almost choke on your words. "And... if I do... want that...?"

You might actually pass out, this is horrible. If he doesn't respond in less than a second, your flight response is going to win and you'll run away. And quit your job, so he can't find you again.

"That would be wonderful! We can take it slow, ok? Absolutely no pressure to do anything you don't want to do whatsoever, I promise."

You nod, not feeling brave enough to say anything. Maybe those were your last words ever.

"So... Dinner at your place? As a date?"

You nod again. Shit, fuck. Are you actually going to date Bruce Wayne? What were you thinking? Wait, does going on one date even mean you're 'dating' him? What's the definition here?

You start walking again, leading Bruce to where you live. If he hates your apartment and leaves and you never see him again that's fine and you'll be able to handle it, right? But that won't happen, so calm down. But if it did happen, you'll be fine and ok and fine. It's fine! Oh fuck, what if you misunderstood him? Did he even mean dinner tonight? Are you embarrassing yourself by assuming he'll come with you right now?

Bruce walks right beside you and starts talking again.

"I'll order. What do you want?" While saying this, he puts an arm around your shoulder. You tense. Woah.

"You said you'd take it slow!" Look at that, you can talk again.

"Too much?" Yes. But also no. But yes. But no.

"I don't know! Maybe?" He takes his arm away and you can breathe again, but somehow at the same time you miss his warmth.

"Don't worry, I'll take it so slow. The slowest. You won't regret dating me, I promise. This'll be so much fun, you'll see." He smiles.

You don't know about that, but you do know that at the very least it'll be interesting. You hope he won't notice you looking up what the definition of dating is on your phone while he's ordering food later.

[nightbutterfly09]

Valentines day 

(btw those who get flowers I recommend getting yourself invested in flower language, I probably spent most of my time on researching this lol) (also, I may be biased [is that surprising?] So Sae might get two scenarios sometime later.. we’ll see, if you want one for the other pls share your ideas and tell me about them!) Keep in mind: Valentine’s day is celebrated differently around the world. In this I made that quite obvious but it’s always written there.

Sae Itoshi:        

/small piece of info: he also gives gifts on Valentine’s day so it’s not entirely like the Japanese customs/

He was a busy man, and naturally the world was against you two spending time on this special occasion. He had another long training day and they didn't take no for an answer, not even if he made sure he was free today days before. 

By the time you heard the front door of your luxurious apartment open it was already 8pm. Everything you wanted to do went out in the trash.

There you were sitting on the barstool sipping on some warm tea on this chilly February night.

You were engrossed in your phone but weren't into it in particular. Your mind was everywhere except for the article you were reading.

Sae knew he f-ed up. Although he really couldn't do anything about it. It isn't in his hands when he is called in for training. He has the right to take a break but the sports industry just doesn't always work like that.

Not to mention, in the back of your mind, you always knew that you’d only come after work. Just because he loved you deeply it didn't mean he’d throw years of work out the window for love.

His arms tangled around your waist which made you startled. “Honestly, I already spoke to you a lot and you are reading such a stupid article?” “It's..not that stupid” 

“It is, how about next time you just ask me how it went?” The article was about Itoshi Sae’s newest match, all the tricky goals he made and also how he made the Spanish striker look even better. “I do, you always tell me you were outstanding as usual” you chuckled.

Even if you were a little salty at him, that wasn't an excuse enough to be mad at him. At least in your book.

“Happy Valentine's day mi vida.” He whispered into your ears and got your phone out of your grasp. 

“So far it's not so happy” but then he let go and gave you a small box. “Wait…” 

“Don't overthink it, I just want to make it up to you.. so I booked a flight to Paris for tomorrow and we can do whatever.” 

You were listening but his words seemed to fall into silence as you opened the box. It was a beautiful ring. A simple but pretty one, just as you like it. 

Suddenly the thought hit you like a truck. “Wait, this isn't an engagement right?!?” Your face flushed and seriously hoped it wasn't time for that yet.

“No” his voice let out a crack of a smile. “It's just a promise right, I found your fingers weirdly missing something nowadays.. So since we aren't in a position for marriage yet, I decided on this. You don't have to wear it all the time though. And the next time I give you a ring, it will be an engagement ring.” He pressed a passionate kiss onto your lips while intertwining hour fingers.

The jewel shone on your hand with a soft glow in the dark. “Now, please don't be disappointed.. I know how important today was for you” 

“It's fine mi amor” you giggle. “I don't care if you forget a birthday, an important day, or you are just busy, what matters is that you show your love for me in a way. We can celebrate Valentine’s day on the 15th too, who said it has to be on one precise day anyway?” 

He smirked and shook his head lightly. “I love you Y/N”

“And I love you, Sae” the words barely left your lips and he picked you up anc placed you on the counter kissing you with passion but also many apologies unsaid.

Your boyfriend was never good with words, but he didn't mind showing his true intentions in many ways others wouldn't even think of.

“Oh, I made chocolate..but I kind of ate them already..in misery” he couldn't help but let a coy smile escape. “It's the thought that counts, and you can make it again later.” He rolled his eyes.

Seishiro Nagi:

For you two mornings were already noon for most people. Sure you had a little less sun to look at but it wasn't like you could just stay up at night and play games together. 

As you awoke the sound of late snow hit your ears. It sounded like some serious snow storm in February. 

You leaned over your boyfriend and checked the time on your phone. 11:34am. That's still so early. Waking up this soon was pointless but it's not like you paid more attention to it. You furrowed your brows  due to the bright life emitted from your screen and saw that today was February 14th. That means only one thing.

Valentine’s day. As much as you enjoyed the quality time it was more or less a hassle. But also you made it your virtue to make homemade chocolates to Sei every 14th of February. Just for his sake.

Therefore you climbed out of the grasp of the tall figure and rushed to the kitchen after getting yourself into something cozier. 

Your sloth loved homemade chocolates. Technically he loved your chocolates. He said the creamy texture and the milky aftertaste were just like what he’d buy at the store just better. 

Sometimes you didn't understand much of his reasoning but regardless you went along with it. 

After an hour he woke up to the fresh smell of chocolate. He slowly walked to the kitchen and tilted his head in inquiry. “What are you doing?” “Happy Valentine's day love!” “Ah.. so that's the occasion, thank you.. you too” he yawned lazily.

The white haired man walked behind you and burrowed his face into your neck as he held onto you for support. His tired body weighing onto you. You giggled. “Sei~ your hair tickles!” You could help but laugh more as he kept nuzzling into you. 

“Wanna have a bite?” You smiled and raised a small heart shaped chocolate to his mouth. “Aah” he opened his mouth and lazily bit it. 

His usually tired face showed sparkling eyes and an expression that yearned for more. He never had much of a sweet tooth so when he first tasted your sweets he thought they’d be all sugary, but this was more suited to his tastes with a slight bitterness in it. 

He leaned down and kissed your lips softly. “Yummy” “Me or the chocolates” 

His lips twitched into a smirk and kissed you again turning you to face him finally. “Both” he said and connected your lips again. 

“Wanna play Valorant with me?” “I’m gonna die first aren't I?” You giggled but nodded anyway. The second you wrapped the sweets into a small bag and placed them in the fridge you went after him to boot your computer. 

Later it was time to play your favorite games, which were more on the chill side. Not only did you play animal crossing but also persuaded him to play Genshin Impact with you which he often refuses to. 

Not because he doesn't like it, it's more like because unless it's some farming for your favorite characters he wasn't really needed.

As the snow quieted down and the stars appeared in the night sky, the main part of your date just continued.

Nor you nor him has ever said this would be a date but don't you call a date a well spent quality time? Then you were doing the exact definition of a date. 

Sure anyone could start an argument over this but with your interests aligning so closely it wasn't a matter of uncertainty whether or not this would count as a date or not.

The rest of your days always went by the same way except that he did make sure to thank you for those pretty and tasty chocolates.

Michael Kaiser:     

/small piece of info: since he is german he also gives gifts on Valentine’s day so it’s not entirely like the Japanese customs/   

He was never into love, not to mention Valentine’s day. He also didn’t really understand why someone would love their partner more on a specific day instead of just showing it every day.

That was before he met you. He still thought you deserve to be loved every single second but he understood the value of such a special day. Well at least he kind of knew it’s important to you so he went along with it. 

He spent the entirety of last week thinking what he could do for you. His girl never asked for anything. As far as he knew you never even asked for much. What you did need he bought that anyway so he was in a pickle on what to do.

And there he was. Late with ideas. The awaited day came and he still hadn’t thought of anything. He really tried though. Suddenly he picked you up as you were making him chocolates. “Want to go somewhere?” You tilted your head a little. “The weather forecast said it’d rain soon.” 

“We can still go out, maybe just stay in the car?” You chuckled. “I know you’ve been stressed out because of today but come on, we can just stay at home watch a movie, chat, and I also tried out a new recipe for chocolates which means we can eat that.” “My nutritionist will murder me, but sure if that’s what you want” He mumbled and pulled you more into his embrace. 

“You can pick a movie” You shrug. “Any? Even horror?” He grinned. “Hey, I want to have a good time too.” ‘It’s not like you’d be focusing much on the screen Micha.’ 

People often say he’s as hard to read as understanding cave drawings but to you, Michael Kaiser’s unsaid words just glowed through his expressions. He could make a frowny face and you’d still be confident he was happy with something.

“Stop teasing.” You shook your head with a giggle. As soon as the chocolates were all done he got the first bite. “That’s so good Micha” A soft smile draped across his face. His loving gaze concentrated on ust the woman ahead. He wouldn’t admit, but he was falling deeper and deeper every second he spent with you.

A love he never experienced or saw just barged in on him. The locked iron door was kicked down without even a struggle. The secrets and hardships he never opened up about, all those deep cuts were exposed to you all of a sudden. He just found himself wanting to spend every existing minute with you. The love of his life. 

All those deep scars he tried burying oh so well just resurfaced. And you tried patching them up properly. As if an insecure little girl, who tried covering her pimples with layers upon layers of foundation but only making it worse. You were there and stopped his hands before grabbing the blender again.

There was something special about you. Something no woman could ever replace. Yes you had flaws, just like him. But to him that never meant less perfection. Only more things to work on.

Rin Itoshi:

/traditional Japanese styled valentine’s +reader unable to cook :)/ 

As he got home from his hour-long run the sudden aroma of burnt chocolate made its way to him. “I’m home-” His voice was full of concern but he still headed to the kitchen. “Welcome home Rin!!” You smiled. 

His gaze drifted to the counter. There was one batch of burnt chocolate in heart shapes and you were making another one now. “You don’t have to do this you know…” He inspected the burnt chocolates. Not only did they crumble at his touch but they also seemed genuinely uneatable. Not that he’d want to taste that. “I don’t want to hurt you but, I don’t think this is how they’re made.” 

You pouted and looked at him. “Hey I know I messed those up but this will be better!” You were stubborn. Once you set your mind to something you will go through with it regardless. He knew backing off wasn’t in the cards. “I’ll help you after I showered and changed.” 

“No need, I want to do this for you!” “Yeah, you either do it half-successfully and burn the kitchen down or I help you and they will be potentially digestible.”

“Stop being mean to me” you whined as he just walked out with a chuckle. After about 10 minutes he was back.

He wore a comfortable blue shirt with black sweatpants. His hair was all messy and his face had a smudge of toothpaste on it.

You giggled at his sight. “What?” He scoffed. “Lean down.” To your command he looked at you suspiciously but he obeyed. 

Doon the toothpaste was wiped down. You also made sure his hair is fine. “Have you even looked in the mirror?” “I did- but I was in a hurry” “aww you missed me that much?” “No, I was afraid you’d burn the kitchen down.” 

“See, you are mean again.” Regardless of his words he started helping you and making sure you two didn't leave the chocolate on the fire for long. 

The chocolates weren't only pretty this time but they were also so tasty. You filled some with jam that your grandma uses often. 

You were now sitting by the couch cuddling while some boring show was playing in front of you. That neither of you was interested in.

This is how a regular Valentine's day goes for Rin and you. Nothing much happening but what does, has lots of sentimental value. 

The sun slowly made it's way down the horizon as you two were still playing around by the window. 

You both needed nothing more. Just chocolates and the soft silence of your home.

Reo Mikage: 

/piece of info: he doesn’t really follow japanese customs/

The man knew your needs by heart. Not only would he make sure every February 14th is enjoyable for you but he would also make sure every time a new experience can be written into your diary that you always thought you kept well hidden from him. 

Reo did love you every day. He did show how much he treasured you each moment but he also knew that these special occasions have a sentimental value that he can't just ignore. So instead he tries making the most of it. Every single time.

He already had a hotel booked and you awoke in fresh bed sheets in a homey hotel. You slowly woke up and opened your eyes. Reo was lying next to you and he was just admiring you. “Why are you staring so much?” You couldn’t help but feel embarrassed. You just woke up and you probably looked like a giant mess. “Because you’re pretty. So pretty.” The purple haired man smirked. 

You were doing your makeup when he finally arrived from downstairs to order your breakfast to be this luxurious one. Not like you ever asked for such. “Happy Valentine’s Day, my queen.” Reo leaned down and kissed your lips. 

“Mmm, cherry.” “I just put that on.” You pretended to pout but then out of nowhere he handed you a giant bouquet of flowers. “Flowers for the pretty woman. My pretty woman.”  Pink carnations rose up from all the little white flowers. It was filled with pinks and deep purples with also little white flowers here and there. Peonies decorated the bouquet to give it a gentle and majestic look. The latter being there for the soft transition.

Lilies swayed on the edges as you held the soft purple paper it was wrapped in. There was a note to be seen with small white petals painted on it.

‘To my queen who I have to thank for a lot. You lit my world up thousands of times when I was at my worst. Thank you for always reminding me you are here less than in an arm’s reach. I want to show my utmost love to you every second of every day. I’ll never leave you and you cannot either. I love you Beautiful.'

Tears swelled up into your eyes as you read his confession. And that wasn’t even a florist’s handwriting. It was his very own. 

Not only does this man spend so much time and money on you he also makes sure it doesn’t all come from his wealth. Not only do his presents have sentimental value but also it shows that he cares. He cares for you deeply.

“Reo~” You whined trying to hold your tears back. “I just did my mascara too” You whined as you tried drying off your tears. Not that right now that was the most important. You just didn’t know what to do or say to him. 

It was as if words and letters and voices couldn’t convey your true feelings. As if this moment can’t possibly be written. Something ethereal. But also, something more than ethereal. That was his kind of love.

Meguru Bachira:

To say the least your boyfriend had a personality. The moment he woke up in your arms he turned and woke you up with sloppy kisses. “Morning Sunshine”

Your eyelids opened just slightly only to flinch at the amount of light that came through the window. Looks like spring was coming very soon as even the sunrays decided to interrupt your sweet dreams. “Morning Meguru~” your slightly crooked morning voice barely made it out. 

“Happy Valentine's day!!” He squealed excitedly and rolled on top of you.

After finally calming him and going about your day at one point he said he had to meet up with Isagi so you were left in the house all alone. The morning jitters also sparkled onto you as you felt more energized than ever.

But Meguru had that aura around him a lot. No matter how little sleep you got or how exhausted you were because of a long week, your boyfriend would always be there to brighten your day.

After about 4 hours he finally came back. You were making chocolate. It was half ready when the door opened. “So I know today is usually your turn and I have to give white day presents BUUT hear me out.” He grinned and gave you a bouquet of colorful flowers.

Many flowers brightened in a bunch of different colors and aesthetics. You saw red tulips, red, orange and white lilies as well as hydrangeas blooming in deep pinks. Not only was it mesmerizing to look at but the smell filled the room in minutes. 

“Thank you baby! I am so happy you thought of me” you grinned and leaned in to hug him. 

You loved how he was the partner to always confide in, he tried his best to make everyone's day, so when it came to his loved ones he didn't shy away at all. 

You put the flowers in a beautiful vase which you got from his mom last year. It was painted with flower veins strangling all over it in every direction.

Later you both wrapped the chocolates as well as little snacks and went down to the nearby park for a picnic. It has been tradition that on Valentine's day the both of you go downstairs with home cooked things and have fun.

The weather was still chilly and that's what made it more fun. It was solely you two in a friendly loneliness. Having alone time with someone was the best and you both understood that feeling well without having to speak up.

As the cold breeze hit your face you leaned more and more into Meguru’s warmth which not only warmed your body up but also his.

The gentle but earnest type of love that was so hard to find. A childlike wonder that you never grew out of.

You already knew Meguru could go overboard and he didn't miss saying “Happy Valentine's day” in every waking moment you passed each other in the house. With loud cheers and the pure happiness emitting from his mouth.

[lunar-renegade]

you guys didn't ask but im telling you anyway while i work on the ashen wolves. time for golden deer design notes!

the leicester students wear doublets with paned sleeves, with full-sleeved linen undershirts underneath. when they wear swords, they have a rapier with a slightly less fancy hilt than the adrestians, but fancier than the faerghus arming sword.

CLAUDE is HEFTILY inspired by his concept art. the wrapped sash/baldric are fun and funky! he's got a khanjar dagger stashed in his sash, which is a fancy knife often worn as a sign of nobility. his winter cloak is based on the new year's art!

his chemise is dyed cheerful yellow, and is falling out of his doublet sleeves in cute little ruffles. he's Exuding calculated sloppiness, with the unbuttoned doublet/jerkin combo, the loose chemise, and the ends of his chemise sleeves showing.

I Have Curled Him, because he says in hopes that his hair is naturally curly and it just...... isn't . in canon. therefore he is curly now. i don't think the riegan barber knows how to deal with curly hair therefore we've got mr dandelion man over here. i also gave him baby fat on his cheeks because um. he's cute.

HILDA wears the jerkin/kirtle/hose combo we saw with Mercedes! her hose are yellow, but you can't really see them. her neckline is open in a touch of calculated sloppiness so that you can see a peek of her really quite impressive boobs. (She's wearing short stays underneath, which at this time in fashion would push her boobs Up and Together.)

I changed her hair so much haha. The pigtails are Adorable but Hilda is eighteen and a duke's daughter. she would not be allowed to go in public with that. so when i was designing her new style my main priority was making it cute (i gave her a little yellow bow!) and making it heart-shaped! it's two interlocking hearts! actually most of Hilda's design here is heart-shaped — she has a heart-shaped face, her nose is a heart, her lips are a heart, and i gave her a little upside-down heart-shaped chin (to make her look more like Holst).

Her winter outfit is a fur-trimmed overgown, a warm hat (which further makes her face heart-shaped), and a fur muff to warm her hands!

LORENZ is saved from bad hair by the fact that i hate drawing the bowl cut (and the fact that it's two centuries out of date). his pants are Very Tailored and his sleeves are Very Big! he has a yellow sash to match Usurp Claude's design, echoed by the little yellow boot bows. of course I couldn't omit his rose.

for his winter outfit I admit I went a little ham. he's rocking a fur-lined coat with massive hanging sleeves and a HAT. look at my boy's hat!! it's at a jaunty angle! it keeps his head warm! it stops snow from getting in his hair! it's shaped like a bag!

MARIANNE also has the Kirtle Option, with her yellow hose showing. there's really not a lot to be said about her design — her hair was perfect already, and most of her uniform is easily replicated without being ahistorical. I did note that i wanted her to look a little "stodgy" and super buttoned up.

her winter cloak is just, um. she doesn't want people to look at her. hubert wears the big cloak because he wants to be scary when he melts out of the shadows, marianne wears it because she doesn't want anyone to see her.

part three of part one of the redesign!! the golden deer are here, they're queer, and they are FANCY.

deviating from designs This Round include: hefty influence from claude's concept art! putting hilda's hair up into a style that an actual 18-year-old daughter of a duke would wear! giving lorenz hair that isn't two centuries out of date! marianne is perfect however :]

[socgf]

better left unsaid - dallas winston x reader

it's valentine's day, and reader finds something she shouldn't have in dally's room.

wc: 959

warnings: none just fluff <3

it's not like you had any crazy expectations for what dallas winston had in mind for valentine's day. sure, you spent all your time with each other. you'd gotten real close, in every sense of that word. but he would avoid that commitment conversation like the plague, so you weren't exactly expecting a declaration of love or a bouquet of roses.

but flat out acting like the holiday didn't exist? that was just too far.

the two of you had just left buck's after you'd spent the afternoon doing homework on his bed while he sat around bothering you. like every friday night, dally had stolen the thunderbird to take you to the nightly double. but this was just a routine occurrence, of course. not like he would ever believe in such a mushy holiday.

still, you'd hoped for something - a box of chocolate, some grocery store flowers, maybe a card. you try to take your mind off it as dally puts his foot on the gas, fiddling with his pockets haphazardly.

suddenly, his face scrunches up in frustration and he grumbles, tapping his fingers on the steering wheel as he cuts the gas. 

"hey. do me a favor, will ya? grab my smokes from my desk. top drawer on the left." 

you roll your eyes but go back anyway. his room is the usual mess - clothes draped over the chair, a couple beer bottles on the windowsill, your textbooks and notes spread out on the bed. you yank the drawer open, already expecting to have to dig past god-knows-what to find the cigarettes.

instead, you find a stack of papers shoved carelessly to the side.

you don't mean to snoop, but something about them seems out of the ordinary. it's not like he's the type to be keeping a diary, but these aren't just receipts or homework. as you take a closer look, you see they're notebook pages crumpled at the edges, ripped out hastily, the ink a bit smudged and messy. 

then you see the date at the top of the first one. an entry from over a year ago. you hesitate for a moment, knowing this must be personal. a flicker of guilt runs through you, but you can't help paging through the headers on the first couple of slips. you swear you can make out your name somewhere between the lines, and against your better judgment, you start reading.

november 5th, 1963

she fell asleep on my shoulder at the drive-in today. she really needs to stop doing that. swear i almost decked steve in his face for laughing at it, but i knew she'd hate if i did it. it's funny, she fucking mumbles in her sleep. i swear she said my name a couple times under her breath. i acted like i didn't hear it but i can't stop thinking about it.

january 17th, 1964

she had to babysit pony today and she dragged me along to keep her company. i was supposed to do a run for buck, but i'll have to figure that out later. it's funny, she was real apologetic about it, like i'm ever gonna be mad that i have to spend time with her.

april 28th, 1964

we were watching some stupid rerun in her living room and i guess i must've been exhausted. she started running her fingers through my hair all sweet like she always does, messing it up. didn't have the energy to tell her to knock it off. next thing i know i wake up laying down on her side. she says i knocked out. whatever.

august 12th, 1964

buck decided to go sticking his nose where he doesn't belong last night… asking me about her. why i won't make it official? make what official? i come to her window every damn night. she lays on my shoulder and tells me all her secrets. not like i let anyone else make me act that way. that's official enough for me, far as i'm concerned.

november 1st, 1964

i swear she did something different with her hair today, or maybe her makeup or something, or her outfit. whatever it was. i just couldn't stop staring at her. she's so pretty it makes me forget what i'm thinking when i look at her…christ, i'm sounding like a fucking sap. if buck ever found this, i would have to kill him.

december 9th, 1964

i found her crying today when i walked in. i wanted to hug her or something, kiss her on the forehead and make everything better. i didn't. just sat there smoking by her side until she stopped, let her get everything off her chest. then she had the nerve to say 'thank you dal,' like i did anything special. i have no idea what the hell she sees in me.

january 28th, 1965

glory, she's got the worst taste in music. i told her that today and she threw a fucking pillow at me. truth is i would listen to the beatles for the rest of my goddamn life if it meant she let me lay in her bed and listen to her sing along. it's cute.

february 3rd, 1965

if she finds these i'm gonna have to tell her it's for an english assignment or something. no, never mind. even she wouldn't believe that. man, i'm fucked.

you reach the last entry in the pile, this one laid out nicely with neater handwriting, on a fresh sheet of paper:

february 14th, 1965

if you find this, happy valentine's day. figured there's no point in keeping these a secret. i'm sorry i'm not better at saying it. you should know i'm not much for words. but i mean everything i wrote, doll, swear.

a.n. writing this made my heart all warm and fuzzy haha happy (late) valentine's day guys!!! hope you like it!

[littelovelunette]

could you do one where reader feels bad about themselves, and starts to struggle with eating, and after weeks go by it’s a problem, they’re skipping meals and feeling sick a lot, and vi noticed and keeps an eye out and then confronts reader and helps them get better, maybe having meals together? maybe she confronts reader by making dinner one night and reader refuses to eat it or something

Pretty As The Sunrise (2)

Contains mentions of eating disorder

You were watching the stretch marks on your stomach and thighs, you had really gained weight this time.

Some of your tops didn't fit you even, that made you feel really sad. You remained there seated on the floor for a while admist clothes and pants that didn't fit you anymore.

You looked at the mirror, hand coming to cup your stomach as your lips formed a little pout, you hated looking like this.

You sighed and decided to wear a loose t shirt and some baggy pajamas, you didn't wanna see the imprint of your figure through your clothes that's how disgusting you felt.

It's been weeks you've been skipping out on lunch, having just a toast for breakfast and barely eating anything for dinner yet somehow you felt like you were the fattest whale to exist on the planet.

"Gosh, I pity Vi," you murmured, pulling your hair down to frame your face in an attempt of making it look smaller, maybe the weight gain wouldn't show then.

"Hey baby, what's with the mess?" Vi asked as she opened the door to the bedroom, brow raised at the clothes scattered around the floor.

"Oh nothing I just couldn't find something comfortable you wear," you lied through your teeth, it was only partially the truth.

"Baby have you been crying?" Vi asked closing the door behind herself and walking upto you, cupping your face in her hands. Vi tucked your hair behind your ear but you quickly pulled them back down to frame your face.

"I'm fine I just need a moment can you give me that?" You asked softly and Vi sighed before nodding, "I'm only a room away, call for me okay? Don't suffer alone whatever it is." Vi reluctantly walked out of the bedroom to give you some space.

"Eat, babe," Vi's voice was gentle whenever she tried to coerce you to eat but you didn't want to, sometimes smiling and telling her you weren't hungry and sometimes simply behaving like you were full.

You didn’t think she noticed.

The way you pushed food around on your plate, always claiming you “weren’t that hungry.” The way your clothes started fitting differently, a little looser. How you sighed when you looked in the mirror, eyes scanning yourself with something too sharp, too cruel.

Vi wasn’t the kind of person to push when you weren’t ready to talk, but she wasn’t stupid.

She saw you. And she wasn’t about to sit back and let you wither away.

So that’s how you ended up in your tiny kitchen, standing at the threshold in nothing but Vi’s old shirt, watching her cook.

It was an unexpected sight—Vi, of all people, focused, brow furrowed as she worked at the stove.

She wasn’t a chef, not by a long shot, but the woman could cook when she needed to. And right now, she was cooking for you and what's what mattered to her.

“Take a seat,” Vi said without turning around, her voice casual but firm.

You hesitated, rubbing your arm. “Vi, I’m not really—”

“—Hungry?” She shot you a glance over her shoulder, an amused smirk tugging at her lips. “Yeah, I figured you’d say that. Sit your ass down anyway.”

With a sigh, you did as you were told, perching at the small, worn-out table. The smell in the air was good—savory, rich, something warm that made your stomach twist with a hunger you’d been ignoring.

“What are you even making?” you asked trying to peer around and get a peek, watching as she plated up.

Vi turned, holding out a dish. “Noodles with grilled chicken. It’s good shit.”

You stared at the plate as she set it down in front of you.

Steaming noodles, coated in a thick, spicy sauce, mixed with crisped-up vegetables and tender slices of grilled chicken. It smelled amazing.

Vi took a seat across from you, arms crossed, gaze unwavering. “Eat, babe.”

You swallowed, fingers twitching on the table. “Vi—”

“Listen.” Vi's voice softened, but her eyes never left yours. “I know what you’re doing. I’ve seen it before—hell, I’ve done it before. You start thinking you’re not enough, that if you just shrink a little more, you’ll feel better. That it’ll fix whatever’s in your head.”

Your throat tightened. She saw right through you. There was no more hiding.

Vi leaned forward, resting her muscly forearms on the table. “But that’s not how it works, sweetheart. You deserve to eat. You deserve to be strong. You deserve to feel good in your own skin, not punish yourself.”

You exhaled shakily, looking down at your plate.

“Just try,” Vi murmured. “For me?”

Your fingers curled around the chopsticks. You picked up a bite, hesitating before finally tasting it.

It was good—spicy, rich, the kind of food that warmed you from the inside out. Your body reacted instantly, the hunger you’d been denying making itself known.

Vi grinned as you took another bite, then another. “That’s my girl.”

A warmth that had nothing to do with the food spread through you.

Maybe, just maybe, she was right.

[jd-loves-fiction]

Hey! I wanted to request something for your Valentine's Day event. Can you do a Rin x Fem!Reader and their Childhood friends to Lovers? I'm sorry if I'm being too presumptuous but could you also add Mutual Pining to this one? I'm really sorry if its against the rules but I wanted to be a little specific with the trope! You can ignore this one! Also please make it fluff! (One more angst fic and i might just end it all 😭🙏) Thank you so much for holding this event! And take care! 💖💖

❣️Thank you so much for requesting hun!! I have so little event requests rn😭 anyways hope you like it!!!

𝓛𝓸𝓿𝓮 𝓲𝓼 𝓲𝓷 𝓽𝓱𝓮 𝓪𝓲𝓻

The stadium is filled with chanting and screaming, bodies clad in blue or yellow as two teams prepare to face each other.

PXG v. Barcha.

On Valentine's day, of all days.

“Says a lot about how dedicated the fans are, wouldn't you say?”

“Indeed, Joe. Though I'd say it’s just another day, right?” Quips one of the announcers over the radio – you listen, only half-interested as you wait for Rin to come out for warm-ups, hands sweaty from more than the Spanish heat and humidity.

“And that is why you’re not married, Martin. Anyway folks, the game is just about to begin so stay right there– Oh! Isn't that…?” About to begin? The teams aren't even on the field yet, they really want to keep people listening, huh.

“I think it is, Joe. That is Rin Itoshi’s girlfriend, standing by the field.” What--

“Not his girlfriend, Martin, nothing's been confirmed.”

“Well, I mean, with how much they’re around each other… and you know how antisocial both Itoshi’s are, I don't feel like Rin would be around someone that much if–” You turn off the radio on your phone – they’re talking about you, obviously, and you’d rather not hear it right now. Plus who are they to talk about Rin as if they know him? As if they know him anywhere near how you know him–

Enough. Clearly the nerves are getting to you and that won't do – you have a mission.

Rin finally steps out along with the rest of his team, giving Shidou the side eye to end all side eyes as usual, before turning to where he expects to find you – you wave him over, hands only slightly shaking.

He does as you ask easily, brushing away the long strands of hair that fall over his forehead, looking as dreamy as ever. It seems the photographers agree as flashes go off behind you as he does.

You clutch a handmade bracelet in your hand, it's crude, sure, especially compared to the high end stuff Rin usually adorns himself with, but it's lovingly made and you hope he’ll see that difference. It sports the colors of Rin’s first ever team – your first ever team as well, from back when football was just a game to the both of you and not a life-long revenge crusade for Rin and… before you realized that you only ever cared about it because he did. Because you lov–

“Hey,” He greets you, casting a suspicious glance to your clenched fist, “Hey, you,” you respond, slightly breathless.

“You know what day it is?” Hoping to subtly bring up the special occasion, you ask.

“The 14th?”

“Valentine, Rin. It's Valentine’s day.”

“Oh,” His teal eyes flash down to your hand once again as you take a deep breath.

Rin’s not hard to read once you know him, granted you don't start assuming things, positively or negatively. You learned that lesson the hard way when assuming he had a crush on a girl in his class in highschool – he was quick and firm in denying it. That's perhaps when you became truly sure that you had a chance with him, the way he said it, the way his eyes stayed on yours to make sure you heard him right and the way his cheeks darked in a rare show of embarrassment. Then, he went off to Blue Lock, and you didn't see him for nearly a year.

“Here,” you extend your fist, beckoning him to show you his open palm, which he does easily enough. Once he does, you gather the last of your needed courage and place the bracelet in his hand.

“Pretty,” he says, gently taking it between his fingers, a glint of gold at his wrist catching your eye, “why though?”

“Because it's Valentine’s day – when you're supposed to confess your feelings… and all that. So… there.” Your face is burning up something fierce and you’re suddenly aware of the hundreds of eyes on you, confidence wilting away like a delicate winter flower under the summer heat.

Rin gives you an unimpressed look, always one for honesty, you should've expected his next words, “Are you trying to say you have a crush on me?”

It should be merciful, perhaps it is since you seem suddenly unable to get the words out, but it sure doesn't feel like it as you nod a little. Rin hums in response, before putting the bracelet on with all the ease in the word, before leaning close to your ear, “I have a crush on you too.”

You both know those words are insufficient, especially for how long these feelings have persisted but it does the job or now, initiate honesty can come later, but it catches you off guard in such a way that you don't notice a gold band being secured around your wrist until he pulls away, “I’ll get you something else if you don't like it.”

As he turns to run to his team on the field, you look down at your wrist to see a delicate golden bracelet with both your initials engraved onto the outside.

“What was that, Joe? Did you see that? Was it a kiss perhaps?!”

“I can't be sure, Martin. But it's safe to say that love is in the air.”

Here's the Valentine's day event rules!

[phoenixyfriend]

This is in response to the email I sent on February 9th. Still nothing to the one from January 19th, or the Instagram DMs.

So... maybe they were just really backlogged and genuinely didn't get to it until today.

But part of me thinks that maybe the eleven comments people left about the issue on their Valentine's day post had something to do with it.

So yeah. Keep pushing! Here's another colourpop post that I think could use some Bothering. They're bragging about a new line of tinted skin balms, which hey.

Wide shade ranges are a great move... but you know what would be a better move? Addressing the now year-long controversy about the Twilight collections and people's requests that they consider donating to the Quileute Move to Higher Ground fundraiser.

(If you want to be polite, the above phrasing is probably fine. If you want to be petty... something about wanting to sell to people of color while also using indigenous groups for marketing without compensation being a Bad Look.)

Anyway, here's the link to their contact form where you can send a Bothering You email if you don't have instagram. This was the first post with suggested phrasing, and this was the second. Here's the explanation of why I even care, and why I think you should too; if you don't know what colourpop is, I've answered that here.

This time, I think I'm going to go down the route of "If you offered and they said No, just tell us that. If you didn't offer, then why not? We are asking for a donation and a statement." EDIT: Yeah so I can't use their contact form anymore. I guess if you email more than twice in quick succession, it auto-filters you to like... make you go to the email thread you already have with the company instead of badgering them about your missing/broken products and clogging it up more. So now I can't send emails or comment on their instagram.

The goal is not an indefinite boycott of the brand, or to cancel them. The goal is to get money directed to the fundraiser, holding colourpop accountable for their choice of partnerships. We want to help an existing charity for a marginalized group, not sink a company for bad choices. There's fuck all we can do to get the makeup removed from shelves; not enough people are talking about it. But making a donation to the fundraiser is much less of a burden on the company than us making a fuss to get the collection pulled for a variety of reasons, and that makes it both much more achievable, and much more helpful to the people we are trying to get money to.

Remember, the more of us that keep at this, the more likely we are to get a response.

It took almost four weeks since I first emailed them, but I've finally gotten acknowledgement, as canned as the response is.