#anyways!!!! tulips are so beautiful

[kosmogrl]

I always miss my country even more when tulip season starts/is near

[moth-spiderling]

Things do get better.

Life can be cruel and unforgiving, like a writer killing off the most beloved characters and making everyone suffer through a lot. Yet every bad moment eventually shall pass.

We don't stop reading a book, just because the writer made things seem grim for a bit. We shouldn't stop living just because we're afraid it'll get worse.

Things can go badly, sure, but they can also turn out for the better. You can also survive.

Even giving up for a day, a month, a year, does not mean your life is not worth living.

It doesn't mean you're gonna be stuck here forever. It just means that for now, maybe for a long time now, things have been rough.

And you need a break, and a hug.

And someone to tell you, that you are very much loved, even if Life (as the most bitter and inspired writer) has decided to take it out on you.

You are loved, you're not weird, and you deserve good, beautiful, lovely things.

[pomefioredove]

having a crush on you

summary: how they would act having a crush on you type of post: headcanons characters: pomefiore (vil, rook, epel) additional info: reader is yuu, reader is gender neutral, rook is rook, not proofread, hi I'm insane and I love pining, I NEED to write another fic but with rook. might write this same prompt with other dorms

𝐕𝐢𝐥 𝐒𝐜𝐡𝐨𝐞𝐧𝐡𝐞𝐢𝐭

don't take his calm and collected facade as apathy

he's slowly losing his mind about this

"pacing back and forth, mumbling to himself, falling asleep thinking about you" kind of losing his mind

it's my personal belief that Vil hasn't been in love before this

hasn't even really thought about it

so when you enter the picture it kinda throws him off balance

and with the exception of Rook, no one can even tell

he is an actor, after all, he can play the part of "totally platonic friends with room for Jesus"

(maybe a little too well)

but Vil isn't entirely emotionally repressed

he keeps things to himself, yes, but he's quite conscious of his own wants and needs

so when he realizes he's been craving your presence more than usual he does acknowledge it

in his head

and then does nothing about it for months

...what? he's busy

things like this can wait for him, and he doesn't want to put a rift between you two in case it might be a passing feeling

well... it doesn't pass

he becomes keenly aware of how much he wants you around him, how much he thinks about you, how much your very presence is enough to make him happier than he's ever... really felt

and you know what?

he is totally cool about it.

just kidding. he drives himself insane trying to think of the perfect way to confess, something that will impress you and meet his standards

he's dropping hints left and right and you don't seem to be picking any of them up

which again, just makes him crazy

(some days he really wants to ask you how oblivious one person can be, but he restrains himself)

I mean, how many times can he send you red tulips before you finally get the hint? he's practically spelling it out for you!

there is... a tiny, little part of him that worries you don't reciprocate

is he not your type? are you interested in someone else? perhaps he'd been too harsh on you, after all...

the fact that one little potato can make him so worried absolutely drives him mad

he is the vision of poise and grace and you are ruining him

and this sort of mood comes and goes in waves

just when he thinks he's pulled himself back together, you'll smile at him or say something cute and suddenly he's back to square one

(you're so adorable it's annoying -_-)

while he's sorting out a good way to express his feelings properly, he'll be spending all his free time with you

you need some new things? he'll be glad to take you shopping

you came over to see Epel? oh, well, he's not here, but you should stay for some tea, anyway!

your afternoon is free? he has some new lip gloss he's been dying to test out...

𝐑𝐨𝐨𝐤 𝐇𝐮𝐧𝐭

contrary to popular belief, I don't think Rook would be so open about it

he still compliments you, of course, and sings praises of your beauty and elegance, and has little regard for personal space, as always

but he's like that with a lot of people, so it's hard to really tell when he likes someone

the truth of the matter is that Rook Hunt can be just as reserved with his feelings as anyone else

when he really, really likes someone, he keeps it to himself

why?

he's hunting you he's learning more about you before making his true feelings known

he feels it's necessary to have an adequate amount of information on his target before making a move, after all

for reference: you catch his eye at orientation, and do not have a single conversation with him until after winter break

(of course, after that, you start mysteriously running into him everywhere)

is he kinda weird about it? uh. yeah.

this is Rook we're talking about

on the other hand, he's completely lovesick about you and it's almost cute

he's definitely the type to write your initials in a journal with a glitter pen while kicking his feet back and forth and giggling

seeing if you would sound better with his last name or he with yours...

definitely has a very weird photo collection of you somewhere in his room

along with stacks of poems, pressed flowers, and little gifts he intends to give you once he's won you over

(when, not if. Rook is nothing if not patient)

you may find a rose left outside Ramshackle every so often

or a few cans of tuna for Grim

all while acting like the same old eccentric Rook, no discernable difference

except when you can feel his eyes on you at random places in the middle of the day

Ace and Deuce call you paranoid but you can't shake the feeling

though, every once in a while he'll get a little grumpy

Rook is easily jealous, and while that sort of possessiveness never extended to untouchable idols like Vil and Neige, he's already decided that you're his prey

and he'd kindly ask everyone else to find their own, thank you

he hasn't exactly planned the confession yet, but just know it's probably going to be the sweetest and craziest you've ever heard

𝐄𝐩𝐞𝐥 𝐅𝐞𝐥𝐦𝐢𝐞𝐫

first of all he's going to fight you for making him like you so much

second of all he's going to beg for a chance

maybe not in that exact order

Epel is constantly at war with his own emotions and having romance thrown in the mix is. uh. not optimal

not only does it ruin the stoic, strong male persona he's been trying to build, but it's also making him feel all soft and gushy

suddenly he cares about looking nice

(much to Vil's approval)

and now he wants to do nice things for you?

he's gonna bite you

how dare you make him think about kissing and holding hands!

don't you know he's supposed to be above all this romantic stuff? what is he, Rook?!

then, after his initial temper tantrum, he starts coping. hard.

he might be able to stomach the idea of being an item if he gets to wear the pants in the relationship

...yeah, right? right.

if you let him be the man, if you let him protect you...

he might be okay with it!

obviously he starts trying to show off his manly strength (seriously) every time he sees you

starts making comments about how tough practice was on him

will literally never let anyone else carry anything for you ever again

he even provides for you (in payments of apple juice)

obviously this backfires 'cause the second you do something that gives him butterflies he's back to giggling

(you'll have to ease him into the idea of being soft and romantic together, but he'll get there)

but, to his credit, he'd be the first out of all the above to confess

super suddenly and out of nowhere (and he ends up shouting it cause he didn't want to sound chicken) but it's sweet in its own way

[amiableness]

hi! thoughts on dad!james getting the reader flowers every time he’s out, ranging from “i saw this gigantic bouquet and thought it must be yours” to “i saw this daisy that’s missing a petal on the side of the road and brought it home”

🙈 idk

Dad!James Potter x Bsf!Reader ☼ 566 words

thanks for requesting, love! hope you enjoy! series masterlist ; main masterlist

“For you, mum!” You’re pulled from the pages of your book, glancing up to see Henry holding out a pink tulip. It’s seen better days, a couple of petals missing, and the remaining slightly wilted. But the sight of your sweet boy standing in front of you, his tiny hands clutching a flower, makes your heart melt instantly.

“Oh, love.” You murmur, pushing your book aside as Henry beams, gripping the flower’s stem a little too tightly. You gently remind him to be softer, and he immediately loosens his hold, a little crease of concern forming between his brows. “I love it, thank you,” you say, your heart squeezing at the sight of him.

“I know it looks a tad pathetic, but we figured we’d save it anyway.” James shrugs, and Henry glances up at his dad, his little brow furrowing at the word “pathetic” as if he instinctively knows it’s not the most flattering description.

“It’s perfect.” You correct as you stand, Henry right next to you. “Should we go put him with the other flowers? We wouldn’t want him to be lonely.” 

Henry nods eagerly, cradling the flower with care as the two of you head toward the kitchen island. You slide the vase full of vibrant blooms closer, and James lifts Henry onto the counter. 

A warm, soft affection flows through James’ veins as he watches Henry tuck the flower he found for you in with the ones James had gotten you earlier in the week. With a focused look, Henry gently tucks his small, slightly wilted flower in among the others, his face lighting up with pride.

“Where did you find it?” You ask, glancing towards James, your hands hovering behind Henry as if you were concerned he’d topple off the counter.

“Along the path. Henry saw it and insisted we bring it home to you.” James smiles, glancing at his son as he squirms on the counter, already growing restless. Henry mumbles a request to be put back on the floor, his brief fascination with the flower fading fast.

The boys had gone on the usual after-dinner walk, a routine the three of you had settled into. Tonight, however, you chose to stay behind.

Usually, on these walks, James would pick out a flower for you, always pairing it with some cheesy joke about it being almost as beautiful as you. You laughed every time, never realizing that Henry had been paying attention all along.

“He’s taking after his dad.” You smile, leaning back against the counter just as James straightens up after setting Henry back on the floor. Henry immediately makes a beeline for his toy cars, his attention already elsewhere.

“You think so?” James grins, stepping in close and placing his hands on either side of you, effectively caging you in against the counter.

“Oh, definitely,” you respond with a soft smile, looping your arms around his neck and threading your fingers through the overgrown curls at the nape of his neck, gently twisting them between your fingers. “Just this morning, he told me I’m the most beautiful woman he’s ever seen. Who do you think he learned that from?”

James chuckles softly, stepping in even closer, his body brushing against yours as his gaze deepens, turning soft. “We’re raising a brilliant kid,” he murmurs, his voice low and warm. “I don’t know how I’d do it without you.”

please consider reblogging and/or leaving a comment! it keeps me motivated to write! 💌

[joi-me-hoi-me-noi]

MHA trying to ask you out (Gone Wrong)

A/n: I decided to try an idea that just popped into my big bulky brain because yes! This features: Mirio, Tamaki, Shigaraki, Midoriya & Bakugo

Extra A/n: Requests are open, feel free to request anything!

TOGATA Mirio -

He first met you after the fight with Overhaul. You and a bunch of students with healing quirks rushed into the room. Right before he fainted from blood loss, he saw your face. You were beautiful even with the serious expression on your face. You watched in amazement as he rushed out of his hospital room to go see Sir Nighteye.

When he got back to UA, he was helping students train by using him as a civilian in need. While coming back into the school, he saw you at the window. You looked up, saw him and waved. He waved back while Nejire watched with a smirk.

"You like her, don't you?"

"I do."

"Wow! So forward Mirio! Are you gonna ask her out?"

He nods. The thing is you are the second person to ever make him nervous. Like extremely nervous. You had a somewhat serious personality. He's rarely seen you smile. That's his main goal!

"I'm going to ask her out tomorrow!"

When tomorrow came, Mirio was sweating so bad. Even Tamaki was frightened.

"Mirio, you could always wait another day."

"No, I'm gonna do it today!"

You were usually in the medical office alone since Recovery Girl said you were fully capable of doing so. You see his tall frame in the middle of the doorway and peer over. A single pink tulip in his shaking hand.

"Did your stitches open again?" You question, quickly standing from your chair.

"N-No. I'm fine Y/n."

You raise an eyebrow at him and then eye the tulip.

"I-I wanted to ask you something Y/n."

"Go on."

"Would you like to go on a date-"

All of a sudden, he goes through the floor and his clothing. When he reappears, he's bare, booty, butt naked! Now you're both flustered and in complete shock. You turn your back to him and let out a breath. He can see your shoulders moving slightly. Were you laughing? He couldn't help but smile when he heard your snort.

"I - I haven't laughed like that in a long time! But yes, I will go out with you Togata."

He hands you the tulip and smiles at you.

"I'm glad!"

"You're still naked Togata."

"Oh right..."

---

AMAJIKI Tamaki -

He always thought you were pretty; he's seen you around school sometimes. He was walking with Mirio and Neijire to go to Class 1-A when he saw you rushing to class. You gave him a small wave before continuing to your class. His face went red from the interaction.

"Someone caught your eye, Amajiki?" Neijire said, elbowing him softly in the arm.

He simply let out a groan and kept walking. During the representation of the Big 3, all he could think about was you. Even at lunch, he was just thinking of you and sighing. A confident person like yourself wouldn't want to be with him anyway.

"How about you just ask them Tamaki. It wouldn't hurt."

"It could."

"How about we all come with you to talk to her. We'll keep our distance."

He couldn't believe he agreed to those terms. He was extremely nervous already. Neijire found out your favorite flower and where you eat the most. He saw you talking to your friend outside, the sun making your skin and eyes glow like stars.

"Let's hurry Amajiki." She shoves a bouquet of [F/f]s into his hand and opens the door for him.

Soon your friend walks away and leaves you at the fountain. You mess with the water with your quirk. Amajiki approaches you nervously.

"Hey there, Amajiki! What's u-"

You catch sight of your favorite flowers and then Neijire in the background who was looking but quickly directed her attention back to Mirio.

"Are - Are those-" You couldn't help but let out a chuckle at the flowers. That's why Neijire was asking you those questions.

You take the flowers from Tamaki, accidentally brushing hands. Tamaki starts to fall backward into the fountain, but you use your quirk to gently cradle him with the water. You see Neijire and Mirio rush over to see what happened to Tamaki.

"He - He fainted. I can assume what he wanted to ask."

"And?" Neijire inquires, staring between you and Tamaki.

"I'll let him know whenever he wakes up. Will me answering directly make him faint again?"

"Probably..."

---

SHIGARAKI Tomura -

(Takes place right before the battle in season 7 :) )

You were the one that gave him a lot of things. Dare I say a purpose. You were All for One's right hand and helped Shigaraki get started. AFO ordered you to stay with him for the first couple of years and then come back to him to work. Shigaraki's feelings grew for you after he saw what you could do and offer. He invited you into the League of Villains, but you declined and explained why you couldn't join.

He blamed his 'father' for being such a pain in the ass. You'd came back once and only once talking about a certain kid that AFO wanted for his quirk. But he can finally see you, without his father taking you away from him. He could almost cry when he saw you.

"Y/n..."

You turn around and face your boss. The city was in ruins all around.

"Shigaraki."

He walks over to you and leans against a big piece of rubble.

"I wanted to ask you something, if we're both alive after this."

A loud blast of wind shoots through the sky and you both direct your attention there. It's the kid that he was after. He brings you in for a hug, resting his chin on your shoulder.

"Get as far away from the city as possible."

He shoots into the air and leaves you amongst the rubble.

"WHAT IS IT THAT YOU WANTED TO ASK ME!?"

---

MIDORIYA Izuku -

As soon as Izuku saw you walking down the hallway to your next class, he gathered his courage to speak to you. He simply waves and you wave back as you walk over to him.

“Hey Izuku! What’s up?”

“Y/n, what class are you coming from?”

He looks you up and down, noticing the stains on your face and clothes.

“Oh, Hatsume blew something up again and I was trying to help her fix it. We’re both fine, thank goodness.”

He nods along and adds onto the conversation before asking you a question. At least trying to…

“Y/n…”

“Izuku…”

“Would - would you like to go-“

All of a sudden, he is gone in a flash. You frantically look around trying to find where he went. Iida snatched him up by his hero costume and bought him right in front of their classroom. He runs back up to you and looks at you while adjusting his glasses.

“We were talking Iida…”

“It’ll have to wait, you should get to class L/n.”

Iida runs back to class 1-A and drags Izuku inside. His face was very red. Even from far away you could see it.

———

BAKUGO Katsuki -

He really loved your quirk and you of course. He just didn’t know how to say it. He would stare at you a lot but turned and pretended to do something when you looked his way. To his friends, it was absolutely adorable how he was treating you.

He helped you during training and always shared some of his snacks with you. His friend group would watch in amazement, he was very territorial with his spicy chips and noodles. And they finally decided to confront him about it.

“Do you like L/n?”

“What are you trying to say?!”

“Why are you dodging my question?” Mina raised an eyebrow and smirked.

He simply scoffed and munched on his chips.

You entered the common area with a blanket wrapped around your shoulder. You said hello to everyone before sitting down next to Bakugo.

“I thought you were going to bed L/n.”

“I was but it’s so fucking cold in my room. I came out here to sit next to my personal heater.” You lean on Bakugo’s shoulder.

His friends whisper to each other before fake yawning and saying they were heading to their rooms. You say bye to them and huddle close to Bakugo.

Katsuki could feel his face heating up. He was unusually sweaty. He’s never sweated this bad before, only when in combat for his quirk.

“Y/n. Can I ask you something?”

“Mhm…” Your tired eyes looked into his red ones.

“I…I.” He looks at your lips and then back at your eyes. You’re smiling.

You’re both leaning in closer to each other and slowly closing your eyes. Then the door opens wide to reveal Deku. He came back from his run and his eyes widen when he sees the both of you.

“Uh… I’m gonna go.” He quickly speed walks to the hallway as Katsuki glares at him.

“Damned Deku…”

His eyes meet yours again and you both lean in again. You hear someone’s throat clear but ignore it and try to continue. Your eyes shoot open when you see Aizawa standing there, using his scarf to pull you both away from each other.

“It’s past curfew. Go to bed.”

———

A/n: Again… requests are open and check my pinned post to see who I write for.

Check out the master list here —> link

[ddarker-dreams]

Worthy Motivator.

Blade x Reader.

Warnings: Typical Blade morbidity, Blade's slightly yan because I can never write him as Normal, and not SFW implications. Word count: 1k.

Author notes are at the end of the story!

Washcloth in hand, you wipe away the perspiration clinging to your skin. 

While doing so, you squint, an act your reflection obediently mimics, confirming that yes; this disheveled figure is indeed you. You smooth out your hair, moisturize your face, then apply a light layer of toner. The process is completed in a timely fashion. A few hand motions made midair dim the bathroom’s lights.

Yawning, the door slides open at your behest, retreating into the wall like a turtle does its shell. The room is dome-shaped and customized to your liking. A light birch wood floor, pale pink walls, and windows showcasing scenery of a tulip field stretching on for miles. Windmills dot the distance, turning at their leisure. Gentle orange hues from two rising suns envelop the room in a cozy glow. 

If you hadn’t known any better, you’d believe you were actually on the planet Ethos, not traversing the cold, unforgiving space between galaxies.

While playing with the settings to change the time being depicted to twilight, it finally dawns on you that you’re not alone. 

Blazing eyes freeze you in place and your breath catches in your throat. 

“Blade,” you greet, wincing at how gracelessly the word rolls from your tongue, “I didn’t expect…” 

You cut yourself off, figuring that finishing the sentence will strengthen the bizarre atmosphere. What can be said, anyway? ‘Thanks for that,’ or ‘couldn’t have done it without you,’ maybe? Both options seem equally terrible. To make matters worse, he doesn’t explain why he’s stuck around. He continues to stand beside your nightstand, arms crossed over his chest, his lips drawn in a straight line. 

You’re the only one boasting signs of your previous tryst, the most obvious being your unsteady gait. Hoping to convey some decorum, you clasp your hands behind your back and straighten your posture. Surely, he’ll spill whatever’s on his mind and then make himself scarce. That’s been his modus operandi ever since this undefined relationship stumbled into existence. You tried not to take it personally. You’re both adults, if he doesn’t want to stick around for pillow talk, you won’t fault him for it. 

His eyes sear through your being. 

“You’re going to Illij.” 

You blink, thrown off by the flat delivery and the intentions it conceals. He’s either painfully blunt or cryptic in his word choice. It’d be nice if he could find a middle ground between both extremes, but that’s wishful thinking. 

With unusual impatience, he adds, “Alone.” 

Ah. 

A certain magenta-haired beauty’s previous words resurface in your mind. 

“—Alone? Not taking Bladie along for the ride?” she had tutted. “You’ll hurt his feelings.” 

You thought she was teasing, as she’s wont to do, yet your developing dilemma proves otherwise. That, or you couldn’t bring yourself to acknowledge the truth in her words. 

Whilst shifting your weight from one foot to another, you meekly reply, “Kafka gave me permission.” 

He has the audacity to roll his eyes at you. 

“Permission, huh?” 

The condescension corrodes your former sheepishness. 

Placing a hand on your hips, you reply, “That’s the word I used, yes.” 

Your room pulsates with palpable tension. He stands to his full height — having been seated on your bed’s edge — sauntering over like a cat poised to pounce. You cross your arms over your chest as the distance shrinks. He’s yet to fully dress himself, wearing only his signature gray pants. His bare torso is marred with innumerable scars that vary in length and angle. Every time you both succumb to the heat of passion, his bandages occupy a new spot, depending on the circumstances of his latest battles. Presently, the cloth coils around his midsection and upper left arm. 

He’s close enough now for you to notice the latter unraveling. 

It isn’t anything logical that urges you forward. The sentiment resides deep in the recesses of your psyche, unsuccessfully shoved down by denial and trepidation. This formless substance takes shape as you meet him halfway. Blade towers over you. Given the massive gap in your abilities, you should fear him, but you know your pounding heart isn’t spurred by negative emotion. 

Much to his perplexity, you set aside the nascent quarrel, focusing your attention elsewhere. Nimble fingers resecure the rebellious cloth. 

“You’re terrible at taking care of yourself,” you mutter. “Honestly, what am I s’posed to do with you…?” 

It’s subtle, but this shift in tone relaxes his muscles. That is, until you admit: 

“I don’t like you being my bodyguard.”

Confusion contorts his countenance, then something more raw; something dangerously intimate. 

“I don’t like seeing you get hurt because of me,” you continue, lowering both your voice and head. “It’s… it’s awful and— and then— you don’t even care!” 

Hoping to avoid further humiliation, you stop there, taking deep breaths to prevent tears from flowing. This wasn’t the direction you wanted the evening to take. You wanted to take a bath, dip into a game Silver Wolf wouldn’t stop raving about, and then prepare for your imminent trip. The trip that’d put thousands of lightyears between you and a man whose blood spilled for your sake could rival an ocean. 

“I’ll be fine on my own. I’ve got Silv’s disguise software and she knows how to track me. So — I don’t know — take it easy, or something. You’ve got the month off.” 

His response is immediate. “I can’t.”

“Wh— did you not hear anything I just said?” you sputter. 

“I heard,” he confirms. He raises his hand to the bandage you rewrapped, as if trying to savor your lingering warmth. “When you’re gone, I cannot ‘take it easy.’” 

Blade uses your stupefaction to his advantage. He takes your much smaller hand into his and places it over his heart. It thumps at a slow, steady pace, like it hasn’t been obliterated and formed anew thousands of times. Your fingers twitch. His body, though colder than the average person’s, emits just enough warmth to indicate life. You feel the raised, textured skin that’s present above his every vital organ. It speaks of untold horrors; untold suffering. 

His chest rumbles as he says, “If I’ve no choice but to live… you’d make for a worthwhile reason.” 

You rest your forehead against his chest and squeeze your eyes shut. 

Kafka… are you sure it isn’t my feelings that’re in the most danger? 

A/N: owing to mental illness, aside from nexus, i devised another storyline for (slightly) less unhinged blade, this time with a stellaron hunter reader. while it has the material to make a series, i don't plan on starting up another multi-chaptered work until i make further progress into my current project 😭 still, i'm happy to talk about it if anyone's curious! here are some tidbits that give additional story context for this universe:

reader isn't super thrilled to be a stellaron hunter. a desperate situation ended in them joining the ranks. they're the emanator of the aeon of illumination, whose name i'm still undecided on. essentially, they're a 'consumer of stars,' capable of absorbing + storing well. you guessed it. stars. as you can imagine, this ability can provide immeasurable energy or devastation depending on its usage.

as a consequence, when reader's performing the sealing process, they're extremely vulnerable. it isn't exactly subtle, people tend to notice when their nearby sun is going cyaaaaaa ✌ and try to stop them. that's where bladie comes in. he kills anything and anyone that threatens them.

ethos is a pretty meadow planet that's known for harvesting clean energy (hydro, solar, wind) and using minimum technology. most of its inhabitants go their entire lives without ever seeing a computer. long distance communication is carried out through a dedicated fleet of carrier pigeons.

illij is a laissez-faire paradise. consumerism galore. ads projected in the night sky, ads projected in your dreams in certain low income areas where people can't afford space adblock™. it's a lot but sometimes reader appreciates the distraction.

[freyito]

ᴠᴀʟᴇɴᴛɪɴᴇꜱ ᴅᴀʏ & ᴛʜᴇ ᴋᴏᴍʙᴀᴛ ʙᴏʏꜱ [ᴍᴋ1]

✧ a/n: part one of my big ol valentines day posts. this one is for the mk1 boys only... unfortunately I had to remove of the boys because I genuinely cannot see them celebrating v-day... i apologize T_T!!! anyways HAPPY VALENTINES DAY :PPP <333!!!

🗒 cw: gn reader, just fluff, not proofread

✎ wc: 1862

⎯Liu Kang

Part of Liu Kang wants to make Valentine's Day an over-the-top experience. But one of the things he’s learned over time (not just through his godhood) is that there is beauty in the simple things. Unfortunately he’s still busy, but trust, he’s got a nice little night all planned out.

A nice dinner at Madame Bo’s is arranged, accompanied by a nice, slightly extravagant bouquet, consisting of flowers from outworld, and some eucalyptus! And Liu Kang’s biggest gift to you is a book. Full of poetry. He doesn’t waste a single word within his writings, relating every single word back to you. And at the end, he ditches the poetry, a simple “I love you” written within the back of the book.

⎯ Bi-Han

Bi-Han is sappy as HELL for Valentine’s Day. Sure, his imposing demeanor is off-putting, but he wants nothing more than to spoil his lover, shower them with gifts. He’ll act like Valentine’s Day is a silly idea, that “he could do all of those things whenever”.

But, when Valentine’s Day rolls around, he surprises you with breakfast in bed. It’s… quite decadent. But hey, who can say no to a home cooked meal? Throughout the day he peppers you with all sorts of gifts, and refuses to say that it’s for Valentine’s Day when you ask. Flowers, chocolates, and other miscellaneous items. Bi-Han isn’t afraid to show off his wealth, especially when he can buy you all the gifts you could possibly want. Despite this, at the end of the day, he chooses to settle with you on the bed, and hold you close. He whispers all the things he loves about you and how happy you’ve made him. In the end, he could care less for grand gestures, settling for words instead.

⎯ Kuai Liang

Nothing is wrong with a little simplicity on Kuai Liang’s end. Valentine’s Day isn’t the biggest thing to him, however he does like to make it special. He does his best to spend time with you whenever, but especially so on Valentine’s Day. Building the Shirai Ryu has him busy, running all around with barely any free-time.

But, Kuai has somehow escaped his work load for the day. He greets with you a simple bouquet, with pink tulips, baby’s breath, and pink roses. Plus some yellow tulips thrown in (because it’s close enough to his favorite colors). Paired with a nice little card. He doesn’t need to make his love some sort of big show– hell, he doesn’t need a day for it. He lets you know every day how much you mean to him, and he shows it, as well. Who needs just a day to reinforce that?

⎯ Johnny Cage

Johnny’s corny. He goes above and beyond for you on Valentine’s Day. He gets all the usual stuff, a horribly luxurious bouquet, like 7 boxes of chocolate (or a different candy if you don’t like it), and like seventeen cards worth of how much he loves you. Good god, if he could, he’d probably change his license plate to YOUR NAME for V-day if he could. Granted, every holiday with him is beyond your expectation.

And of course, the main show is in the evening. After a rather extravagant dinner, he brings you home to be greeted with a trail of rose petals leading towards the bedroom. Cage has got the biggest, goofiest smile on his face when you follow it. He’s got the lights dimmed perfectly, the petals on the bed are shaped like a heart, and in the middle of it, a little tray with two glasses and a bottle of sparkling cider. He wanted to make a grandiose gesture…. and don’t be surprised if he gets down on one knee, either.

⎯ Kenshi Takahashi

Kenshi is a sucker for V-day, actually. He won’t miss any opportunity to spoil you and shower you with his love, in fact, he does his best to get Valentine’s day off. Regardless of how much he loves the holiday, he sticks to simplicity. He likes to make it a beautiful event, it starts at 12 am for him and ends at 11:59 pm. He wants to make the day just as wonderful for you as he plans.

It starts with a voice message in the morning. A nice little good morning, followed by him telling you to dress your best and that he’ll pick you up around 11am. Why isn’t he there to say that in person? He’s already out, looking for the best bouquet he can find. He refuses to do it any time before, because he wants them to be as fresh as possible. And when he finally picks you up, you’re in for a beautiful night out, with a quaint dinner, and some sappy and romantic dancing by the end of the night. Kenshi gives you the royalty treatment (although, he treats you as such every day), he leaves no room for question of his love.

⎯ Kung Lao

Kung Lao is a bit of a mess when it comes to Valentine’s Day. He’s always got such big plans, something magnificent, bigger than the world itself. It’s not that he can’t, it’s that he doesn’t have enough time. But, just when he freaks out about disappointing you, he reminds himself just how much he loves you. And perhaps there’s no need for a big display.

So, he shows up at your door with a simple bouquet of roses, and a smile on his face. He’s saved all the sappy words he can spill to you for a card, he’s pestered Madam Bo to keep a table open just for you two tonight. And when he’s met with your smile, he realizes it was all worth it. And… for once, he’s totally okay with paying! Every time you look at him, every time you laugh, every little thing you do, it makes him happy.

⎯ Raiden

Raiden’s V-Day “celebration” is pretty quaint. It isn’t flashy, it isn’t anything big. But it’s you and him, and that’s exactly how he likes it. Valentine’s Day isn’t the biggest thing for him, he thinks he shows his love for you everyday, and that’s enough. But regardless, he’ll celebrate with you, especially if you want him to.

He presents a small bouquet of sunflowers to you, before taking you out for a nice little picnic. It’s surprising how he was able to find such a secluded spot, something that feels like it’s just you two… which it is. That’s all he needs, though. To sit there, under the clouds, with you in his arms. Raiden plays with your hair, whispering every little thing he loves about you (like he does all the time), sprinkling in ‘i love you’s and much more in between sweet nothings.

⎯ Tomas Vrbada

Good god, does Tomas splurge on Valentine’s Day. He buys a bunch of stuffed animals– teddy bears specifically– like a month in advance. He tries to be subtle about it, but he’s got a horrible poker face when it comes to you. He’s all smiles and blushes whenever V-Day is even brought up, because he finds it so hard not to spill what he has in store for you. It’s a secret, dammit, and you’re normally the person he tells everything to!

And when the day comes, he’s practically skipping to your door. He’s got a big ol’ teddy bear in his arms, one of the ones that’s easily the length of your bed. This one will join the massive hoard of stuffed animals Tomas has gotten you. Other than the massive teddy bear, he takes you out for a nice little dinner, something cozy and warm. And when the night is over, he’s dragging his feet, cause he doesn’t want V-Day to end.

⎯ Syzoth

The idea of Valentine’s Day is lost to Syzoth. There’s not really an equivalent for Zatterans (and he’s not necessarily interested in Outworld's equivalent), but all you need to do is explain it to him and he’s got a couple of ideas in mind. He doesn’t have the strongest grip on the concept, to him it’s more of like ‘an even fancier date all day’– in his words.

He’s managed to make an impressive bouquet, with all sorts of flowers that you haven’t even seen in Outworld before. He’s quite proud of himself, but the bouquet isn’t the main part. It’s stargazing. He’ll spend time with you throughout the day, however, he can’t wait for the evening. He’s not so sure on entering Sun Do, so most of the day is essentially stalking through the woods. Not that it’s bad, it’s quite peaceful, actually. Knowing it truly is just you and him, it’s just enough.

⎯ General Shao

Like the other Outworlders, Valentine’s Day isn’t something Shao’s heard of. But when you explain it to him, it clicks. He’s not necessarily the most romantic, or free to indulge in the holiday. But he won’t pass up a good opportunity to spoil and pamper his lover. He kinda just gives you a handful of money and tells you to get something you like…

But he doesn’t just want to brush you off. That’s not what he’s doing. Safe to say, he has a hard time expressing affection considering his lifestyle and his title. And, unfortunately, being a general doesn’t exactly mean he gets that many days off. He makes it up to you in the evening, when he can finally squeeze in free time. It’s not extravagant, but it’s something. Nothing’s wrong with a little dancing, right? Especially under the stars?

⎯ Shang Tsung

Shang Tsung is all for it. In fact, he beats you to the punch. He’s a day early, but it’s kind of endearing to see him interested in Earthrealm traditions. Or perhaps there are ulterior motives… It’s hard to tell. Regardless, he’s super enthusiastic, and excited to share this day with you.

He’s gotten every little thing he’s heard about, a bouquet, a card, some candies. It’s odd seeing him essentially throw gifts at you, but he does really enjoy spending money. He overdoes every little gesture for you, dramatically opening the door, professing his love to you like every 3 minutes, the whole thing.

⎯ Reiko

The mention of V-Day comes up in passing, it’s not something you really talked to Reiko about. Initially, he doesn’t care. It’s another Earthrealm holiday that doesn’t matter that much to him. But when he hears you talk about all the gift giving and the fancy dates people take their significant others, he’s a little bit intrigued. Mainly because you seem so enthusiastic about it. And he wants to show off just how good of a partner he is.

He doesn’t make it some big show, he keeps it pretty simple. A couple flowers and a nice little night out in the markets. Sure, he could do more, but it’s his first Valentine’s Day, he’s doing great. He buys you anything you look at, no matter how small it is. Reiko would buy you dinner, too, but you two have pretty much eaten every little snack that was being sold at the market. At the end of the day, he doesn’t have the best grip on V-Day, but each year he does his best to make it better.

© freyito, 2024 | masterlist | queue | kofi DO NOT REPOST AS YOUR OWN OR USE FOR AI/AI CHATBOTS.

[lovebugism]

Omg bug we need a part two of “mean” Eddie and reader going on their little date 🤭 if you are up for writing it ofc 😌

pt. 2 of this fic

You didn’t show.

Maybe you just got lost. Eddie figures he shouldn’t have expected someone like you to know where The Hideout was. Or maybe you lost track of time. — but he’d told you the doors opened at seven o’clock sharp, and you’d repeated it back to him. He knows you did because you’d said it in that voice you use when you get all shy, as soft and as low as your meek gaze when you peered at him through your lashes.

But you weren’t just late. You weren’t fashionably late, either. You just never showed up.

Eddie wishes he didn’t care as much as he did.

He told himself he didn’t when you weren’t there at seven, but he looked for you in the meager crowd of twenty when eight o’clock rolled around anyway. 

He’d wanted to see you in the front row. He dreamt of putting on the best show The Hideout’s ever seen right before dedicating some cheesy love ballad to you. 

“This is for a really special someone in the crowd tonight,” he would’ve said into the microphone that smelled like beer. “You know who you are. Don’t let this go to your head, either, alright?” 

He even made the band practice Hysteria by Def Leppard so he could play it for you that night — so the lyrics could tell you everything he couldn’t — but you weren’t there to hear them. 

They ended up playing Love Bites instead.

He spends another two hours moonlighting as a rockstar.

Still in his ripped jeans and eyeliner, he slings a towel over his shoulder and ties an apron around his waist — a busboy all over again. He always forgets how sleazy The Hideout is until he’s got to clean it up. 

He mops sticky floors and wipes down grimy tables and tries to ignore the stinging in his chest every time he remembers that you were supposed to keep him company through it all.

A knock sounds at the front door at eleven o’clock. 

It’s Tuesday night — the place is empty now. Eddie’s been around long enough to know when drunks are out looking for a fix.

“We’re closed!” he shouts, more focused on scrapping off the syrupy ringed stain on the table than the relentless inebriate outside.

“C’mon, Eddie, it’s cold!” a familiar voice pleads, muffled through the door. “You’re not mad enough to let me freeze to death out here, are you?”

Eddie nearly breaks his neck with how quickly he turns to look over his shoulder. 

You stand behind the foggy glass, mostly blurry but still beautiful. The bouquet of purple and red tulips is nearly as pretty as the smile your pair them with. Your floral skirt swishes around your ankles as the wind blows. Eddie winches when he sees you shiver.

He rushes to the door, scrambling with the keyring clipped to his belt loop. His sweaty hands fumble with the chain. It takes him three tries to get it in the lock. 

“Shit. Sorry,” he stammers. “I didn’t think it was you.”

“I figured. It’s okay.” 

You walk through the door he holds open for you, the spring night breeze following close behind. Eddie shuts and locks the door again.

You spin on your heel to face him and hold the flowers out between you. “These are for you,” you tell him — soft and low and timid.

Eddie grins.

“These are very metal, sweetheart,” he teases. The plastic wrapping crinkles as he takes them by the stem.

“I felt bad for being so late,” you grimace. “Didn’t want to show up empty-handed.”

“What flower shop is even open this time of night?”

“Zippy’s,” you answer curtly, gaze ducking down to your shoes a moment later.

“You went to a gas station all the way across town to get me flowers?”

You nod.

“No wonder you were late,” he scoffs. 

He saunters past you, then spins so he’s walking backward and facing you. His wild hair sways around his face. He clutches the bouquet to his chest. “Here I thought you off seeing some other schmuck.”

You roll your eyes, knowing no other schmuck has ever given you the time of day like Eddie has.

“I was late because of work,” you correct. Before you know it, you’re rambling. “I wasn’t on schedule for closing, but my asshole manager wouldn’t let me clock out. And I couldn’t call you because I don’t have your number, and I couldn’t find The Hideout in the yellow pages because it’s so old and—”

“Hey. It’s okay,” Eddie assures, practically cooing. It’s the softest he’s ever been with you, and he looks at you just the same — chocolate eyes melting as they twinkle at you. You’re left grieving his gaze when he turns to set the flowers on the counter. 

“You’re here now. That’s all that matters.” 

Through burning cheeks, you tease. “I thought we agreed you weren’t gonna get soft on me.”

“Oh? You thought that meant I cared that you came?” he scoffs, obviously joking. 

He squints down at you when you appear at his side — turns and presses his hip into the counter, and props his elbow along the top of it. “I’m just happy I got you outta the house. You’re like a damn hermit, you never do anything fun.”

Your face scrunches in discontent. “I have fun!” you correct.

“I’ll believe it when I see it,” Eddie retorts, nudging your shoulder as he walks past you again — this time heading toward the kitchen. “Sit down. I’ll make you something to eat.”

You’re grateful when he walks to the back without looking over his shoulder at you, lest he become a witness to the beam on your lips that’s far too bright to hide.

Eddie Munson is totally soft on you. 

It’s a good thing, too. Because you’re all but melting for him now.

You sit at the bar with a sweaty beer in your hand. “It’s obviously cheap, but it goes down sweet enough,” Eddie warned when he’d handed it to you. You sip from it, leaning back in your chair with your feet thrown on the one beside you — totally unable to take your eyes off the boy.

You watch through the partition behind the counter as Eddie makes a haphazard effort of basketing leftover chicken tenders and fries. He sets them beneath an orange lamp to warm again.

“A rockstar, busboy, and chef, huh?” you lilt, hiding your smile behind the beer you bring to your lips. “What else can you do?”

“When there’s a pretty girl in front of me?” he retorts as he swipes the crumbs from his palms. He looks at you with a smug grin and shrugs. “Just about anything, I’d guess.”

You roll your eyes. “Don’t do that.”

“Do what?”

“Flirt with me. It’s gross. We don’t do that.”

Eddie laughs to himself, honey eyes squinting. “I’ve been flirting with you for about a year and a half now, sweetheart, but… Thanks for finally noticing.”

He carries the ruby red baskets in both hands when he comes out to sit next to you. You slide your legs off the stool for him — an invitation to be close to you without either of you having to ask.

“Am I gonna get food poisoning from this?” you joke, holding the greasy chicken strip between your fingers.

“The cook made them today,” he scoffs, already tossing a fry into his mouth. He talks as he chews. “Besides, we’d be getting sick together. What’s more romantic than that?”

God, you even think he’s cute when he talks with his mouth full. You’re so far gone for him, it’s not even funny.

Eddie smiles when you take a bite. Your eyes flutter shut on their own accord, your empty stomach thanking you. 

“Good, huh?”

“Amazing,” you correct.

“Gross bars make the best food, I swear.”

You laugh softly together. Def Leppard croons from the speakers overhead. You wonder if Eddie knew this was your favorite band or if your favorite song is only playing by chance. You’re warmed either way.

“How was, uh… How was the show?” you ask him, as curious as you are desperate to fill the silence.

Eddie wipes his palms on his jeans and nods. “It was okay. Same as usual — the crowd was drunk enough to enjoy anything we did.”

“I’m sure it was great,” you retort at his self-deprecating tone, picking shyly at the fries rather than meeting his gaze. “I’m sorry I missed it.”

He figures he doesn’t need to tell you about his bleeding heart that was close to breaking a couple of hours ago. You put a bandage over it the second you showed up at The Hideout — with flowers, no less. He’s just glad that you came at all. He meant it when he said that none of the rest matters.

“Don’t worry about it,” Eddie shrugs through the food in his cheek. “There’s always next time.”

You grin and knock the leg of his chair with your foot. “Already asking me out on a second date, huh?”

“If that’s what you wanna call it,” he jokes through glowing cheeks. He tilts his head towards his shoulder. “But I’m not paying for your ticket next time, princess.”

Your smile widens. You prop your cheek on your knuckles, unabashedly gazing over at him. “That’s okay. I’ll be in the front row either way.”

“Promise?” Eddie’s lilt edges on teasing and sincerity. He momentarily abandons his own food as he mirrors your positioning, not realizing he’s leaning closer to you until he’s already doing it.

“Promise,” you nod with a smile so bright he thinks it could rival the sun.

He continues to shorten the distance between you — coming closer closer closer. You watch him, amused, and with your bottom lip trapped between your teeth.

You want him to kiss you. No, fuck that, you need him to kiss you. But more than anything, you need him to do it first — a cheeky little something to over his head when you’re kissing him later.

And you don’t mean to laugh, but the thought makes a giggle spill from your lips before you can stop it.

The bubbly sound knocks Eddie from his stupor. 

The tip of his nose just barely brushes your own. His glazed-over eyes fly open. He remains still, his breath fanning over your cupid’s bow, as he blinks owlishly at you. The pretty pink mouth he was about to kiss you with falls softly agape. 

His head jerks backward a second later, almost in disgust. 

“Shit. Sorry,” he curses. His body shifts away from yours completely as he turns his attention to his half-eaten basket of fries. “That was— That wasn’t cool of me.”

Still smiling, you reach a hand out for his leather-clad forearm. You caress him soothingly there in reassurance. “No. It’s okay—”

“No, that was really fucking weird,” he says, forcing out a laugh.

“Right?” you scoff. “Why would Eddie Munson, the chef-busboy-rockstar, wanna kiss a girl like me?”

He exhales sharply through his nose, tilting his wild head to his shoulder to look at you. 

He finds you with a gleam in your eye, one that’s not usually there because, most times, he’s too busy making fun of you.  A smile hints at the corners of your mouth, barely there and beautiful. It’s a bit smug — twinkling with the satisfaction of finally having the upper hand.

Eddie figures it might pay off to be soft with you sometimes. He never wants you to stop looking at him like this.

“You know that’s not what I meant,” he confesses quietly.

Your smile widens. “I know.”

“I’m sorry,” he repeats again, eyes flitting away from yours.

“Don’t be,” you promise. Your nose scrunches softly. “…Wanna give it another go?”

His gaze snaps back up to yours. He has to fight the urge to tease you, lest he ruin the moment he’s been thinking about for months. He’ll be damned if he lets the opportunity slip away from him now.

“Sure you’re not gonna laugh at me this time?” he lilts, looking at you from halfway beneath his lashes.

“I’m not gonna laugh at you,” you promise, though a grin’s already threatening to pull at your mouth.

“Promise?”

“Well, I can show you better than I can tell you.”

You let Eddie lean in first. He exhales a heavy breath from his nose that fans against your skin when your lips collide. The rosy plush of them lock with yours like they were made to do it. His palms rise to your jaw, keeping you tucked neatly against him when the moment threatens to pull you away. 

Your hands migrate to the lapel of his leather jacket. You tug him further to you — a promise that you’re not going anywhere.

You don’t laugh into his kiss this time.

You smile.

[violentdelightsandviolentends]

A fluffy/ mild angsty valentines fic with Bucky where reader gets HIM flowers ( because of the whole guys don’t get flowers thing :((( ) maybe there’s some mutual pining and sweet confession? Like she gets the flowers for him because he makes some joke about not having had a valentine for nearly a century and she’s just like “absolutely not will not allow that >:(“ but he thinks it’s just a joke at first :(

Anyway thanks! Love you!

Bloom.

bucky barnes x female reader

warnings - none

valentines masterlist. inbox. masterlist.

“Are we almost done?”

Bucky looks so miserable, you can’t help but laugh.

“Yeah, we are. We just need flowers, and then we have everything on the list.”

He grabs the shopping cart and pushes it across the grocery store, determinedly marching in the right direction. You’re practically running to keep up with him.

“Which ones?”

You look at all the flowers, touching some of the petals gently as you decide.

“I’m not sure. What’s your favourite kind of flower, Buck?”

He looks at you with a blank expression.

“I don’t have one.”

“What?”

Now it’s your turn to look blankly at him.

“I’ve never been bought flowers. Why would I have a favourite type?”

You frown at him. The idea of Bucky never receiving flowers makes you much sadder than it should, but you’re trying to play it cool.

“Oh. Well… which of these do you like the look of the most? They’re going to go in the middle of the table in the kitchen, so they need to be bright. Give the room some colour.”

He circles the flower display a few times, looking around carefully. Eventually, he picks up a bouquet of tulips, all pinks and oranges and yellows.

“I like these.”

You smile softly, nodding your head.

“Good choice.”

You’re somewhat distracted as the two of you check out. You put the tulips in the bag carefully, glancing at Bucky every so often. He catches you looking, and can’t help but wonder what’s going on in that pretty little head of yours.

✵  ✵    ·　 ✵ 　　 *  · ✵

You’ve been standing outside Bucky’s door for the better part of fifteen minutes.

He knows.

He heard your footsteps, can hear your chest heaving, lungs working overtime. He’s just waiting for you to make your own decision.

Eventually, you do. After thirty minutes, you decide to just do it. You’ve got nothing to lose.

You knock.

Bucky swings open the door as if he’s been waiting for you, standing patiently on the other side.

“Breathe, honey.”

You didn’t even realise you’d been holding your breath. You exhale, never breaking eye contact with the man in front of you.

“Hi, Buck.”

“Hi, you.”

“I got you something.”

“You did?”

You grab the bouquet from where you’ve leant it against the wall, holding it out to him.

He stops in his tracks, brows furrowed in confusion.

“They’re… for me?”

“Yeah.”

“Why?”

You inhale deeply, willing yourself to find some temporary courage.

“Because tomorrow is Valentine’s Day. And no one has ever bought you flowers.”

He’s smiling now, soft and knowing.

“You’re the kindest person I’ve ever met.”

He says it so sincerely, so genuinely, that it makes you want to cry. You hand the flowers to him, grinning as he admires them up close.

“They’re beautiful. You’re beautiful.”

That takes you by surprise.

You and Bucky have always had a careful, consistent friendship. Ever since he first barrelled into your life, you’ve thrown tender smiles his way, nodding your head in acknowledgement every time he passed you in the hallways. He warmed to you, slowly but surely. Your kindness, your generosity, your genuineness - you’ve charmed him delicately, somewhat accidentally.

You’ve also been in love with him since day one.

You never thought to mention it - he’s healing, learning, growing as he goes, and you don’t want to halt his progress. So, you’ve pined from a distance, gently and quietly.

“Buck… will you be my valentine?”

He beams at you, the most luminescent smile you’ve ever seen from him.

“Oh, sweetheart. I’ve been working up the courage to ask you that every year since I met you. Knew you’d beat me to it.”

You laugh, stepping in closer to him. He puts the flowers down carefully, reaching out to cup your face in his hands.

“Can I kiss you, my valentine?”

You nod, already leaning in. He presses his lips to yours, and he swears he feels flowers bloom in his ribcage, bright and alive.

[merlucide]

BLLK BOYS W/ A THEATER NERD S/O

notes: HELP I H8 THE DRABBLES..🥲 (og ask)

characters: Reo, Isagi, Rin, Bachira

warnings: cursing?, implied fem, cringe

bllk mlist

MIKAGE REO

oh, he just LOVES watching your performances. 

Wether your on stage or not- he comes to EVERY show (drags nagi w/him too LMAO)

Helps you memorize any of your lines / helps you gather stuff you’ll need backstage.

He loves seeing you thrive in theater, and how happy it makes you ><

He always listens intently when you talk about your favorite broadway show, amazed how you remember even the smallest details

Sings your favorite musical songs with you, he will even act out the scene with you

Brings you a BIG bouquet of assorted flowers when the performance is over— rambling about how just wonderful it was

He is really proud of the effort you put into you craft, and the outcome always amazes him

Everyone had gathered on stage for the final bow, the crowd clapped and cheered. You smiled when you spotted your boyfriend holding up a limp Nagi. Reo clapped with a bright smile on his lips— and Nagi squinting at the bright lights. Everyone headed backstage and the crowd cleared, most left but close friends and family stayed and came backstage.

“Y/N that was wonderful!” You hear the familiar voice of your boyfriend praise, him running to you and hugging you tightly. He pecked your cheeks and held onto your arms. “My love that might just have been your best performance yet,” You snorted at his comment “Reo, you say that after every performance.”

“Well every performance is perfect my love,” Reo quips, his face into a smooth grin. Behind him trailed Nagi, who slurred a ‘good job’ with a thumbs up. Reo pulls back a bit and hands you a beautiful bouquet you can’t help but smile at. It was so pretty, full of tulips and lillies and smaller flowers complimenting the main ones.

“Thank you Reo,” you smiled before kissing his cheek. “Of course my love, just doing my job,”  <3

ISAGI YOICHI

oh he is so cute

You 100% get him into the world of theater

Thinks that it’s really cool how you’re passionate about this

Super supportive— tells all his friends about your plays and all of the stuff you like

His favorite broadway shows are Dear Evan Hanson and Hamilton— he thinks King George is hilarious

He likes being involved with your plays anyway he can—he will be try to be involved if he is free

Tells his family all about your performance!!

The whole family goes to your shows (≧∀≦)

Tries to memorize your lines / the plays lines with you but forgets them 💀

(or) Tries helping you with props/technical stuff but doesn’t know what to do so he just stands there 😭

“Yoichi- can you pass me the yellow please?” You asked from sitting on the floor, paint brush in hand. On the floor was props you were tasked with making. 

“Here,” Yoichi hands the paint bucket to you as he watches you pour some on your pallet. You guys were supposed to go out tonight but you still had some props you needed to finish— so Yoichi offered to keep you company. “Uhm, are you sure you don’t need any help..?” He nervously asks. 

“Oh no I’m okay, thanks though,” you happily replied, you already felt bad for canceling date night and didn’t want to ‘burden’ him with helping you. “Oh okay,” he sits back down on the floor and continues to watch you. 

“…Did you wanna help?” You slowly asked. 

“I dunno,”

“Yoichi”

“Yeah..”

You softly sighed and handed him a brush. “Here, you can paint the moon,” You stood up and grabbed the unfinished moon set-prop. Yoichi nodded eagerly as he started painting. His strokes were in all directions— you’d have to go over them later but you didn’t mind too much. He looked so cute with his brow slightly furrowed when he concentrated on painting the edges.

“How’s this?” Yoichi asks, pointing to his moon with a little grin. “It’s perfection,�� you praise, which he responds with a soft ‘thanks’ as he admires his work. <3

ITOSHI RIN

lmao he does NOT get it 😭💀

like you showed him a clip of your fav musical and he was like ??? Ppl ACTUALLY like that..?? (Ignore him he’s stupid)

but SUPER supportive of your performances!! he just lacks artistic appreciation, aaaand he has as much creativity as a wet sock, so yk

When he comes to your performances, he always brings a small but pretty bouquet (he’s beet red when he hands them to you >< )

You have desperately tried to get him into the arts— which just continued to confuse him🫠

He likes Shakespeare though??? which is probably like the only plays he will willing watch (aside for yours ehe:3)

You call him your Romeo ;) (he gets embarrassed and gets mad at you LMAO)

Lmao he should’ve never voiced his ‘like’ for Shakespeare bc when ever he asks you a simple question you’ll end up going “To be or not to be, that is the question” (que rin groaning)

“Rin, you need to put more emotion into it!!” You exasperatedly said, flinging your paper up. You had asked Rin to go over your lines with you, which was a stupid idea to begin with. He ticked his jaw, fingers firmly pressing into the paper.

“tch. This is stupid,” Rin answered, glaring at you. You sighed, “I can’t feel the scene if you sound like a robot!”Rin huffed, his pride clearly wounded. He groaned and flicked the paper back and examined it again.

“What. do. you. mean he’s. been. lying?” Rin reads, his voice flat. 

You internally sigh, “I’m not sure, but when I asked him he was acting strange..” you spoke, already memorized your lines. “Could. it have. something. to do .with his. sister?” “No- he wouldn’t tell her about something like that… Unless!!” You clapped your hands.

“YAAAY!! I FINALLY NAILED MY TIMING!!” You exclaimed, clapping your hands excitedly. You then tackled Rin, who was sitting on your bed, catching his lips in a fat smooch. “Thanks honey, I really appreciate you tryin,” you praise, hands resting on his shoulders. 

“Tch.. It’s nothing..” Rin muttered, his hand coming to rest on your waist. “I’m never doing this again,” you snickered at his mood change  (he’s gonna end up helping next time you ask <3)

help Ik that was so bad 💀

BACHIRA MEGURU

AJHSNJANANNRNE 

HE MATCHES UR FREAK!!!!

LIKE HE GETS IT FR!!!

omg you wanna binge watch Chicago, Six, and Heathers? WELL SO DOES BACHIRA!

yall sing musicals together all the time like- yall are in character doing the choreography and all

He loves watching musicals sm

And he LOVES watching you perform/work in theater

Like- seriously goes to all of your shows, even rehearsals if he can

Gets super immersed in your performances- thinks it’s 10x better than any broadway show

Loves seeing your/the costumes- will definitely try to try them on (before he gets caught and gets in trouble lmao)

After every performance he takes you to go get ice cream- a little ritual you guys have :3

OH. And he tries to match his outfit to what your play is >< (keyword, tries)

He brings his mom to your plays and she whistles and claps so loud when the plays over 😭💗

“Y/N you were friggin’ awesome!!!” Bachira exclaimed, hands swinging yours back and forth. “I wasn’t even on stage for 5 minutes,” you snorted. “Well you were the best one there! Being a tree takes a lot of skill y’know!!” He grins, pulling you along faster. 

You finally arrived at the sacred land, Benny’s Ice Cream Parlor. Bachira ordered for both of you, handing you one cone of (Fav Flavor). You sat down on the bench, already licking your cone. Bachira put his foot on the bench, “Ahem, Ahem,” He began, lifting his ice cream up. “I would like to make a toast!,” You smile at his antics, waiting for what he’ll say next. “A toast to the best play in the history of the plays!” You snickered, raising your cone “A toast!” You said, ‘clinking’ your ice creams together. 

“Ah, being Tree #4 is no easy task…” You dramatically sighed, licking your ice cream. Bachira shook his head. “Tut tut..,” you both snickered, finishing your ice creams and heading back home. <3

bllk mlist

taglist: @gigiiiiislife @sharkissm @luvingshidou @kurona-theshark @soleilonthesun @duckydee-0 @rinitoshisgirl @someprettyname @nikomelo

kanakakannakkkse ive rewritten the Drabble so many times bro 😭😭 ARGH AJSNSNANANA

made August 22nd 2024

[falling-star-cygnus]

things i've noticed about HSR characters bc character design is my obsession

part two: 🎼Save a horse🎵 Ride a Cowboy🎶 ✨Boothill✨

who should i do next :D

his bullet earring and cartilage piercings [the bullet as a red chain link coming down from the hoop, kinda like when it first gets shot] -> also- if you zoom on his face too long he glares at you

it doesn't matter what direction you tilt his head, you cannot see his right eye clearly, this is the closest i got -> obviously this line was him joking about the cause of him being a cyborg, but i think he genuinely lost his right eye too. also- he's an optimist??

he's got air vents on his neck!!

Boothill's medals glow when you get victory stacks :D -> also they jingle every time you use his attack!! and look at his spurs!!

he's got a port on his left hand, to match the one on his back, but not his right. [are they connected? what does the one on his hand connect to?] -> i wonder if he can put bullets through the one on his hand and store them for later

his original name meant loaded gun, so that's pretty cool -> and pretty dark considering he was literally turned into a living weapon ['as always, he and his partners turned to guerrilla warfare 😃' has the same energy as 'so anyway, then i cursed her 😊.']

man's hips are OUT

anyway-

his hair is interesting to me. is it natural? his sixth eidolon has the interesting mix of black and white that it does currently, even though that's him as a human

wouldn't be cool if it was Marie Antoinette Syndrome? -> it can be caused by extreme stress and trauma to the body//mind, which you can't deny Boothill went through -> but it can also be caused by Alopecia Areata, which is a rare autoimmune disease that causes your cells to attack each other and target the pigment and structure of hair follicles [altho alopecia usually results in hair loss]

could the loss of his body, paired with how he was found as a baby, cause the discoloration of his hair?

also the leaves in his eidolon are most likely that of a tulip trees, which are symbols of freedom, liberty, and free speech [which he unfortunately does not have] -> Native Americans would often use the inner bark of these trees for medicinal purposes too!

they can also just be decaying leaves, representing the deteriorating state of his body

HC for the road: Argenti is the only one he’s let see his missing eye. He fully intended to try and scare the Knight of Beauty off, try to force him to admit that his body wasn’t all he praised it to be, but instead Argenti just cupped his face and repeated his praises

[hysteria-things]

I need a 3rd part with Nate soooo bad

SINFUL DESIRES (part three)

read part one here

read part two here

read part four here

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: nate x reader

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: you’re going on a date this weekend! oh, and the date is your arch nemesis… so you say.

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: FLUFF, swearing, friendly banter

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 704

𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: second anon i kid you not i wrote this in the afternoon and had it in my drafts to post later and when i saw that in my inbox i was gobsmacked LMAO

ANYWAY thank you sm and here is the awaited part three💕

the mirror placed on the wall next to your front door has your reflection on it as you fix up your hair and lipgloss.

you still cannot fathom that you’re going on a date with nathan doe.

well, he didn’t want to admit that it was a date. he said — and quote — “we should go get something to eat this weekend. dress fancy, too!”

the ringing of the doorbell echoes through the foyer, and you give one last peek at yourself before opening the door.

nate’s dressed in a white dress shirt, black dress pants, and shoes. he has a small bouquet of tulips in his hand, your favorite flowers ever since you were little.

he remembered.

his eyes scan your body that’s hugged with a sage green dress that has some poof to it, daisies embroidered on it. the sleeves are off the shoulders, and gold jewelry decorates your ears and neck. “well, well, well. look who came to their enemy’s doorstep holding presents. how thoughtful.”

“oh, shut up. i’m here to pick you up for our date.”

his hand never left your thigh as he drove to the restaurant, and you hate to admit that the feeling made you blush.

he opens the door for you, and you step out to admire the exterior. the lights around it are dim and the colors of the building are warm earthy colors. it’s definitely an italian restaurant. also your favorite ever since you were a kid.

he remembered that, too.

the hostess brings you guys to the table, and you get settled as the both of you look through the menus.

“you look very beautiful tonight,” he says, peeking at you from above the menu since they're bigger than your heads.

you hide your smile with a lip bite. “thank you. you look handsome.”

he chuckles, tapping your foot from under the table. the waiter comes over, places your orders, and takes the menus.

nate leans on the table to admire you, smiling as you start talking. “do you know what we should do after this?”

“what should we do, pretty?”

man. that nickname’s starting to grow on you.

you grin. “we should go to barnes and noble. i need more books.”

“you don’t need more books.” he rolls his eyes. “nerd alert.”

he lets out a sound of pain when you kick him under the table. “nate, please? for me?” you give him puppy dog eyes along with a fake pout.

he crosses his arms. “we’re not going to fucking barnes and noble.”

you went to barnes and noble. you drag nate behind you by the pinky, smiling when the whiff of books hits you.

you go over to the young adult section, skimming through them to find a book that’ll interest you.

he’s leaning against the bookshelf, staring in awe. he doesn’t understand how one can love books so much, but it’s okay because it’s you.

when you find a book you like, you go over to the counter. “hello!” you greet, placing the object on the counter.

the cashier scans it, tapping a few buttons on the screen in front of her. “that’ll be $21.00.”

you go to reach for your card, but hear a BEEP and look up, seeing nate’s card inserted into the machine. “you already paid for dinner.” you say lowly.

he nudges you with his arm, taking out his card. “do you have a pen by chance?” he asks the woman, using his hand to portray a writing motion.

she gives one to him, and he moves you so you’re behind him. he starts to write something in your book, and you jump to try to look over his shoulder. it’s no use.

“na—”

“thank you.” he smiles, giving the pen back and grabbing your book. “let’s go.”

when you guys get comfortable in the car, you sigh. “what’d you write in it?”

he stares deep into your eyes, taking the book off of his lap and handing it to you without saying another word.

you hesitantly open it, and a small message written in blue pen is revealed on the inside cover.

y/n,

will you officially be my girlfriend?

circle one:

yes or yes

𝐭𝐚𝐠 𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭!

@bunbunbl0gs @lexisecretaccx @thy-mission @angelic-sturniolos111 @sophssturn @mattsneezing @janiellasblog @blahbel668 @meg-sturniolo @hearts4chris @mattslolita @sturnbaby @imwetforyourmom @tillies33ssss @sturnifyed @mayhem-72 @ripmattitude @p1xieswrld @alorsxsturn @txssvx @sttzee @multiluvr @delilahprentiss @matthewsspecial @idkhowtosleep @sturniolho @suga-daddy-69 @tworosesblackthorn @luckistar-posts

[atinyniki]

flowers and confessions.

group: stray kids !

pairing: nonidol!bangchan x f!reader

genre: fluff, pinch of angst

warnings + additional info: reader is referred to as y/n, reader and chan are both whipped for eachother, chan is referred to as channie, yeji of ITZY and changbin have a crush on eachother in this au for the sake of the plot (NOT SHIPPING), reader and yeji are roommates, love confessions, college au, reader and chan like cooking together.

authors note: this is something i was doing with a friend of mine at uni a year back but he had a gf </3 i never ended up confessing, so i decided to make this story a happy ending :) this is also not proofread. english is not my first language, so please excuse any grammatical or spelling errors. happy reading :)

wc: 3733

“and she’s more of a tulip girl than a rose girl. got that?”

“yes ma’am”, chan chuckles nervously.

“listen to me chan. you’re a good man, and i know if she gives you a chance she’ll give in eventually. just… please don’t fuck it up.”

chan nods his head slowly, processing what she’s said to him. “okay, i’ll try my best not to. thank you, yeji”

she nods, escorting chan out of her home. 

‘what could i do…?’, chan thinks to himself. the walk his dorm isn’t all that time consuming, but it feels even longer with the thoughts of you plaguing his mind. 

the envelopes on his desk seem to strike up an idea. you guys are best friends, he doesn’t want to ruin anything of course. so… why not confess anonymously?

“like… love letters? from a secret admirer?”, changbin asks incredulously.

“yeah… im sure she’ll tell me about the letters and then… i can ask if she likes them. you know?”

changbin sighs, staring at chans lovestruck face. “you do you. i don’t need any letters because… i’ve got these.”, changbin says as he points to his biceps and wiggles his eyebrows. “shut up bin”, chan chuckles.

he quickly goes back to his room, writing the first letter as an opening. he quickly writes the letter, placing it in an envelope and closing it with a red wax stamp.

the excitement was getting to him, he had a hard time sleeping that night.

“seriously…?”, yeji stares at him, completely unamused.

“what… is it bad?”

“dude. i give you all of that info, and you use it for love letters?”

chan sheepishly nods at her. he knows it’s crazy, but he just doesn’t want to say anything face to face yet. you’re such great friends already, he’s afraid that he’ll ruin things.

“yeji, listen. this way, if i ask her about the letters and she says they’re weird or something, i won’t have to handle direct rejection. she would never know it was me.”

yeji seems to be understanding this more now. “ah… i see. go on then, make sure to make them super sappy. she loves that… for some reason.”, she rolls her eyes.

chan bows quickly, rushing to his next class. he can’t stand being late to this one. it’s his favorite class, not because of the subject, but because of you. seeing your face and being able to sit next to you brightens up his mondays every time. 

you watch as he makes his way up the stairs, a small smile on his face. “hey chan”

“hey”, he says with a smile.

he takes a seat next to you, the warmth emitting from his body. you love that you can sit next to your best friend first thing in the morning, especially in the winter. 

your professor walks in, and you both immediately focus on your work. mr. bae is no joke. chan makes small talk with you of course, as much as he possibly can without being scolded by your professor. he’s been caught too many times for him to be let off easy this time around. 

class ends not too long after, meaning the two of you have to part ways for now. it’s okay though, you always hang out outside of school anyways.

you make your way to your locker to put away some things before your next class. you don’t have much time, but luckily the class is in the same hall. 

you open the locker and put away your things, but something catches your eye. a beautiful pink tulip, placed nicely on top of a white envelope. there’s a cute heart on the wax seal, and you’re careful not to rip the envelope while you open it.

you begin to read the letter, a pink hue spreading across your cheeks as you process the words. your heart flutters in your chest, knowing that someone thinks about you in this way.

you don’t think your smile is all that special, but this person definitely thinks otherwise. you quickly put away the envelope, reminding yourself to dry press the tulip later. 

all of a sudden, you’re smacked out of your thoughts. you run towards the hall. you’re definitely going to be late.

you arrive at chans with the ingredients, waiting for changbin to get back. you’re cooking his favorite today, so you’re very excited to see his reaction.

the tulip that your admirer gave you is pressed in between a stack of books, you plan on air drying and preserving it later. 

“who gave the flower?”, he asks with a smirk.

“oh… no one”, you reply shyly.

he continues to wiggle his eyebrows at you, causing you to shove him playfully. 

you and chan continue talking about some studies, when you hear changbin come in.

“chan?”

he stands in the doorway for a second, inhaling for a little while. he rushes to the kitchen when he smells it. “what is all this?”

“we decided to make your favorite tonight, help yourself. we’ll bring the danmuji out in a second”, you tell him.

he smiles so wide it almost reaches his eyes. “ooohhhh thank you thank you thank you! you did all this for meeeee?”, he says excitedly.

“it was all chans idea, thank him”, you chuckle.

changbin jerks his head towards chan, a cute pout on his face. “you did this for me channieee?”

chan stares at him for a little while before rolling his eyes. “no. why would i do it for you? shut up and eat now.”

you both knew it was all an act. as much as chan tried to pretend he hated changbin, you knew that it was just brotherly love.

“thanks chan”, he says with a smile.

chan can’t help but smile back.

you open your locker the next week to a black tulip, your heart sinking to your stomach.

you pick up the note, reading it quickly before you go to class. 

“don’t worry, nothings wrong. i just gave you a black tulip this time since i always see you wearing black clothes. i assumed it’s your favorite color.”, it read.

the note went on with the usual, except this time it was about your nose. you giggled to yourself, the words lingering in your mind for far too long. your heart flutters in your chest thinking about who could possibly be writing these.

you run to class, afraid you’ll be late. you lost track of time reading the note, but you don’t regret it. not one bit.

you hope he’ll reveal himself soon.

“mmhhh noo…”, you whine.

chan giggles a little, pulling you closer into his embrace for a second. “i really need to go to the bathroom y/n…”

“you’re warm though…”

chan takes your hand in yours, “i’ll only be a minute. besides, you have the blanket.”

you nod, watching him go and sitting in the spot on the couch where he previously sat. the seat was warm still, almost enough to pull you into a slumber.

chan quickly locks himself in the bathroom, his heart beating almost a thousand times a second. why did he do that? why did he hold your hand… oh gosh. his entire face is red, he tries to wash it away. it doesn’t work.

maybe it’s his fault for sitting so close to you in the first place, but he can’t deny that he enjoyed it. he wants to be in your embrace forever. 

“gosh… this is beautiful.”, you whisper to yourself. the note contained a little poem about your eyes this time. you didn’t think they had much effect on anyone.

you pick up the red tulip, admiring it for a moment before placing it back in your locker inbetween some tissues and a stack of books. you enjoyed pressing them.

that way, if you were to ever find your secret admirer, you could keep the memories of your feelings.

wait… feelings? do you like this guy? you don’t even know what he looks like! maybe they’re just… shy?

you never thought for once that a man would be too shy to see someone like you of all people. you’re not really all that special in your opinion, but surely there was more to you that this guy sees.

maybe you could go searching for him…

“you really like pressing those damn tulips.”

you chuckle nervously, “yeah… they’re really pretty”

chan is surprised you haven’t told him anything yet, but he makes sure not to push you. he doesn’t want to let anything slip.

chan sits back down on your bed, admiring you for a bit while you talk about some things that happen at school.

“and she’s been- she… why are you looking at me like that?”, you ask. the look on his face has you tripping on your words, oddly flustered.

“huh? o-oh… um.”, he stutters, afraid he’s made things awkward. he tries to think of an excuse quickly, “you still have a little sauce on your cheek.”

embarrassed, you wipe a bit at your cheek, trying to wipe the sauce that wasn’t even there in the first place. suddenly, chan speaks up. “i’ll get it.”

he scoots incredibly close to you, stroking your cheek and “wiping away the sauce”. your eyes widen, cheeks turning a bright red.

chan seems to notice, smirking at you again and wiggling his eyebrows. you scoff playfully, flicking his forehead causing him to recoil.

“heyyy! what was that for”, he says with a fake pout. you can only giggle at his antics, running a thumb over his forehead to ease the pain. 

you continued going on about the girl in your class, ignoring the way chans close proximity made you feel.

“what the hell?”

the note came with a baby blue tulip this time, writing about how your voice makes his day. ‘so he knows me…’, you think to yourself.

maybe you two share a class or two. either way, you’re determined to find out. this time, you write a note in your locker for him to read the next week. 

it’s a simple note, not as cute as his are. the only thing it asks is if you two share a class.

you hope he notices it next time, it’d be a shame if he didn’t. you place the note in your locker and quickly run back to class.

now that you think of it, he must have a class in the same hall as you since he always gets to your locker in the morning. maybe he’s in your first class. 

wait. why are you so eager to know? gosh, how are you falling for someone when you don’t even know who they are? 

“oh come onnn, please?”

“jeez, why do you wanna know so bad?”

“becauseee… you seem so happy when you get these flowers. do you finally have a boyfriend?”

you shoot him a look, shutting him up immediately. “what do you mean, “finally”? i’ve had many boyfriends before”, you say while shaking your head. 

chan laughs beside you, causing you to laugh a little bit too. “well, the truth is, i don’t know who these flowers are coming from. someone puts them in my locker every monday with a love letter…”

chan looks at you, wide eyed. he fakes his surprise, “wait… you have a secret admirer?!”, he giggles.

“yeah… i guess i do”, you smile.

you turn your head to look at him again, his boba eyes staring right at yours. you can’t help but think back to what the note about your eyes said. does chan see them the same way? do you… want him to see them the same way?

chan pulls you into an embrace when he sees the look in your eye. “well, hopefully he reveals himself soon”

your face is painted with a light blush again. how could you possibly be falling for two men at once?

why do feelings have to be so confusing…?

the weeks go by, different tulips and notes arriving in your locker every week. you’ve confirmed that you’re both in first period together, but that seems like the only clue you’re getting for a while.

each day, you press the flowers and place them in your special frame next to the decorative box, in which you place the letters.

your frame is just a blob of colors now, the ivory, purple, and crimson tulips popping out the most.

you’ve been meeting with chan a lot more recently for movie nights. you’ll have to admit, they’re really fun, but you’re finding it difficult to evaluate your feelings.

you’ve started to develop stronger feelings for chan, as well as your admirer. your heart is torn between the two. you don’t know who to choose. you dont even know if you can begin to choose.

how could you break their hearts?

you wake up early in the morning, surprised because you normally can’t seem to bring yourself to open your eyes. you nuzzle closer into the warm pillow, wondering why it feels so much better than usual.

“sleep well?”, chans voice revertibrates through your entire being. you pull your hands back, scooting away from him and looking up.

“wait… i- what the hell?”

“hey it’s not my fault! you were incredibly drunk, and you insisted i stay.”

“oh…”

“oh channie… please stay! i can’t sleep without you… you’re so warm”, he mocks you and laughs.

your eyes go wide, a hand clamped over your mouth in shock.

“i actually said that…?”, you hide your face in your hands. 

“no biggie”, he smiles.

you bury your face in your palms, embarrassed. you’re glad you didn’t let anything else slip out though. chan pulls you back into his embrace, drawing patterns on your back and laughing a little. 

“hey, seriously. it’s fine, i don’t mind keeping you company you know. your channie will always be here”, he giggles.

“shut. up.”, you reply, your voice muffled in his chest. 

you hear the door open, quickly jerking your head towards it. “you lovebirds done? i brought breakfast”, yeji smiles.

“yejiii” you whine, hiding your face again. chan gets out of bed, laughing again as he gets ready for the day.

“fuck…”, you mutter under your breath. it’ll be much easier to confess to chan right? you can confront him face to face, but with your admirer it’d be more difficult.

what if they’re just joking around? if you confess, the tulips will stop. you’ll have no more notes to keep in your box. but then again, if you do confess, there’s a high chance of the both of you ending up together.

there’s no way chan likes you, but you really need to get it off your chest. you can’t pursue your admirer while still having feelings for chan, that’s not fair to him.

if chan is so excited about this admirer, there’s no way he could actually like you… right? fuck it.

you run over to chans dorm, changbin opens the door for you. “y/n? chans not home right now, sorry.”

“yeah i know… i was um- i was meaning to talk to you actually.”

“oh! come in”, he says with a smile.

you explain the whole thing in depth to changbin, even your feelings for the two boys. changbin laughs to himself, ‘what has he gotten himself into?’, he thinks.

changbin doesn’t even seem to notice that tears are leaving your eyes. he quickly grabs your hand, running his thumb over it. “hey, i’m sure nothing bad will happen if you confess to chan. he loves you too much to let you go just because of a crush.”

“no but that’s the thing changbin! it’s not just a crush- i love him. i love the both of them. and i don’t know who to choose, or how to tell them, because it’s not fair to date one without telling the other and…”, you trail off.

“just tell chan you love him. and if you really want to win him over, tell him while you’re cooking or baking together or something.”

“what? why?”

“just do it, trust me.”

you nod, continuing to plan out your confession with changbin. you figure out how you’re going to confess, you hope chan will enjoy having his favorite dish.

“i should tell yeji about this too, she’ll probably have some advice.”

changbin goes silent, thinking about what else you could do. you notice the way his face goes red at the mention of your roommate.

hopefully he’ll confess too.

“i brought everything… what’s the occasion though?”

“you’ll see”, you say with a smile. 

you both make your way to the kitchen, smiling along the way. of course your nervous, but it’s a lot easier when you have his reassuring smile.

it seems to be something that always puts you at ease, it’s one of the reasons you love him so much. you feel so safe with him. 

you guys work on dinner, smiling and giggling the entire time. “that damn coral tulip really put you in a good mood hm?”

you chuckle a little, “hm, yeah”, you beam at him. hold on… did you tell him about the coral tulip? “wait… how do you know about the tulip”

“huh?”, chan seems to be confused, but then his eyes go wide. he realizes his mistake immediately, but he doesn’t know what to do.

“chan… i never told you anything about the tulip. how did you know what color it was?”

he opens his mouth to say something, but it won’t come out. “i…”, the lump in his throat rises more, cutting off his air flow. he’s seconds away from hyperventilating.

“channie, was it you the entire time?”

tears well up in his eyes, he didn’t want it to happen like this. he planned a whole reveal for you, and now it was all ruined.

you quickly turn off the stove, walking over to chan. you’re being careful not to scare him away, a smile on your face. “it’s you isn’t it?”

he nods softly, some tears escaping his eyes. “i’m sorry…”

you cup his cheek with your hand, wiping away the tears on his cheek. “can i…?”

he nods, and you crash your lips into his. “i love you channie”, you say breathlessly. he grabs your waist, picking you up and setting you down on the island. he pulls away from the kiss and looks you in the eyes. 

“i love you so much y/n. i’m so sorry i didn’t tell you i was just… scared of ruining our friendship.”

“chan… i um. i didn’t- i don’t want you to think i kissed you just because of the letters. i was planning on confessing to you today but that just made it so much better”

chans eyes twinkled in the light, stunned by the sincerity in your voice. “y/n… i truly do love you a lot. i- thank you.”

you give him a quick peck on the nose, wiping away his tears again.

“so, you were making all this so you could um… confess?”

you nod shyly, averting his gaze. he giggles at how adorable you look right now, sitting on the kitchen island.

“what’s so funny chan?”

he picks you up once again, this time pinning you against the wall. your heart flutters again in your chest, the butterflies erupting in your stomach.

“no. not chan… i’m your channie”, he smiles at you, leaning in for another kiss. you enjoy the moment with him, but all of a sudden you stop.

“chan! we still have to make the food”

he looks at you, sets you down on the floor and then turns away from you. you’re a little confused by the sudden change in attitude, but then it hits you. 

“sorry dork, i meant channie”

he smiles at you again, helping you fix dinner.

“wow… first dinner with my girlfriend and we even cooked it together.”, your eyes widened. you were going to have to get used to chan calling you his girlfriend.

“wake the fuck up you two!”, yeji yells from her room.

you’re in the same position as last time, you face nuzzled into chans chest and your arms are wrapped around him. he’s holding you this time, whispering sweet nothings into your ear and stroking his fingers through your hair. 

suddenly, yeji barges in to see you two practically looking like a pretzel. “oh my gosh…”

chan continues running his fingers through your hair, not paying attention to yeji at all. “wait… really?!”, yeji says excitedly.

it seems like shes finally gotten the hint, and you reach up to give chan a little peck. you smile at yeji, watching her visibly gag. “you know, you couldn’t just said ‘oh yeah we’re dating now!’. you didn’t have to kiss him. gross…”

chan laughs a little, the sound being music to your ears. “hey, it’s not my fault”

“yeah yeah whatever. get ready, we’re going out with changbin.”

you turn your head towards yeji again. “changbin? why so?”

chan lifts his head from the pillow. “are you finally dating now?”, he asks excitedly.

“ew no… gross”, yeji says while rushing out the room, not wanting you to see the crimson red covering her face.

you open your locker, instantly met with a much bigger envelope. you quickly open it to read it, smiling to yourself as you do. you’re so glad that chan did all this.

you searched your locker again, looking at the floor to see if the tulip fell, but you couldn’t find one. you pouted a little, the tulips seem to be something you cherish a lot. just then, you hear chans voice behind you.

in his hand is a bouquet, all different assortments of tulips. he doesn’t say anything, he just gives you a kiss and heads off to his next class. 

you stare at him as he leaves, completely in awe. tears almost spring to your eyes, but you fight them off. quickly placing your bouquet in your locker, you run to your next class.

you make it there just on time, but before taking out your notebook, you grab your phone.

y/n: thank you channie :) channie <3: i hope you liked them :) y/n: of course i did! y/n: i love you channie <3 channie <3: i loved you first <3

<3

[hxlxnaaa]

𝐜𝐫𝐨𝐰𝐧 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫𝐧𝐬

★ synopsis: unrequited love manifests itself as a beautiful disease

★ character: zayne

★ cw: first-person pov, university au, hanahaki disease, ANGST

★ word count: 2k

★ a/n: zayne my angsty king. who needs happy endings am i right??? (i'm so sorry)

Google Search: Why am I throwing up flowers??????

Hanahaki Disease (花吐き病 (Japanese); 하나하키병 (Korean); 花吐病 (Chinese)) is a disease in which the victim coughs up flower petals when they suffer from one-sided love. It ends when the beloved returns their feelings, or when the victim dies. The flowers can now be surgically removed, but all feelings towards the beloved will dissipate.

I already knew what it was. Everyone does. From the first tulip petal I coughed out while working on my essay, to the bouquet that came up from my lungs, covered in blood, just days later.

It was progressing rapidly as the days went on, and everytime I took a breath my lungs would constrict; the vines curling around them, crushing my breathing ability, and my heart.

At first, I tried to ignore it. I’d go out with friends and attempt to go to class, but I felt embarrassed. Ashamed, even. I could feel their eyes on me, watching as I tried to smother my chokes in the middle of a lecture, only to have to dismiss myself to throw up a rose in the hallway.

It’s not like I could go through campus and see him, the one who gave me this. I ignored his calls, ignored his texts. Not that they came often anyways.

‘Are you okay?’

No, Zayne, do I look like I’m okay? I’m sitting in a pile of flower petals and my own blood on my bathroom floor.

Zayne. He was my childhood best friend, and growing up it always felt like I had to fight for an ounce of his attention. He was top of the class in highschool, popular with all the girls for being smart, stoic, and undeniably sexy. Not once did he entertain any of them, and it made them want him so much more. I was excited for college, thinking I could finally have him to myself, without feeling like I was sharing him with the whole school and his extra curriculars. I knew realistically he’d still lack the time for me, studying biology to go to med school, become a doctor, follow his dreams; and I would never be one to step in the way of that. I knew my place. I was just his best friend. I was aware there were boundaries I shouldn’t cross.

At least, until now.

I remember the moment it hit me.

After days, weeks of begging him, I had finally convinced the introverted, brooding nerd to go to a stupid frat party. For the laughs, I had said, follow the college stereotypes. ‘You only live once, Zayne!’ He humored me, I’ll be grateful for that. Giving it barely an hour (and a few free drinks), he quickly got sick of everything, inviting me outside. We sat outside on the driveway, the cool air a breath of freshness compared to the stuffy, sweat smell from inside.

A dumb rap song played inside, and Zayne looked over to me.

“Slow dance with me.”

I smiled and rolled my eyes, knowing it was the alcohol talking and not him. He’d regret this in the morning, and I’d get a stern talking to.

He stood, reaching his hand out, narrowing his eyes. I took his hand, figuring the least I could do was indulge in this moment. For once, his attention was fully on me.

I laughed as we swayed together, a muffled remix of a shitty rap song as our only background music. Looking up at him, I questioned when he had grown up so much. His once round, soft face with chubby baby cheeks had matured into a sharp jawline and high cheekbones I thought about grazing my hand over. Behind his eyes wasn’t a childish glint anymore, and I wondered how long ago that disappeared.

Pressing my face into his chest, I only felt us. One of his arms around my waist, the other holding my hand that was pressed against his shoulder. My free hand clutched his black jacket, like he would disappear into thin air, and my grasp was the only thing keeping him here.

To a passerby, it would’ve looked like a movie; two college kids dancing together outside of a frat party, holding onto each other like it’s the end of a world. In the movie, the two best friends would confess to each other the next day. The boy would rush to the girl's door, with a bouquet of flowers, gasping for air, saying “I love you, I love you, I love you, I never realized that I did.”

But only I realized. Only I realized I loved him.

Zayne never showed up on my doorstep the day after he walked me home that night. The only flowers I got were the ones that filled my lungs.

I refused to speak to him. I wasn’t mad at him, why would I be? It was my fault for forgetting my boundaries. For forgetting the rules. For thinking I had a chance since all the little highschool girls no longer followed him around like lost dogs. For once thinking that I was no longer his side character, for thinking maybe I could be his love interest in his story.

What would I say to him if we did speak? I couldn’t hide what was growing inside my chest. I couldn't hide my split lips from the thorns, or my scratchy voice. The dark circles under my eyes from lack of sleep, too busy catching up on work from missed classes and not getting a break from coughing or vomiting. Tell him I was sick? He’d scold me for not taking care of myself, that I need to rest and eat properly. I didn’t want to hear it, scolding me for something he caused. His concern would only grow when I would accidentally cough up a flower in front of him.

Would he ask who I loved? Or would he just look right through me and tell me I needed to get the surgery to fix all of this. ‘Nobody is worth that kind of illness’ He’d say bluntly.

I knew I couldn’t face him. Not knowing if he even cares, yet knowing that the way I look at his face is different from the way he looks at mine. How he sees his future with someone who isn’t me.

“What are you going to do?” I was hanging out with a friend from one of my classes, Tara. She was the only person I felt like I could confide in about all of this.

We were hanging out at one of the campus coffee shops when I told her. It was a good day for my lungs, after almost overdosing on decongestants and ibuprofen.

“I’m not sure.” Twirling my spoon in my cup, I avoided her eyes. “It’s not like I can get the surgery. I can’t afford it.”

She looked me up and down, and I felt as if she could see into my soul. She did, Tara was like that.

“Can your pockets not afford it, or can you not afford it?”

Tara was right. I could afford the surgery, my university healthcare covered the surgery since students caught the disease so often;

But my heart couldn’t afford it.

It had gotten so used to loving Zayne, it would feel empty without the compassion for him. I feared I may act differently, lacking all love for him. Would he even notice?

I quickly made up my mind, looking out the window - seeing the person I dreaded the most.

Zayne sat outside in a car on the other side of the street, and I could only tell it was him if I stared hard enough. He was holding the hands of a girl I had seen around campus. Zayne had briefly mentioned her a few times, talking about the assignments they’d work on together, and I never thought too much of it.

He brought their hands up to his mouth, kissing the back of her hand, and each of her knuckles. His face was gentle, a look I had never seen on him before. She giggled, and I wondered what it would be like to be her. To have him stare at me with all the love in the world, to be able to feel his soft pink lips I had stared at so many times, wishing to just touch, to just feel. To be on the receiving side of his care, his compassion, no more blunt harsh responses and stern looks.

“Hey-”

I turned back to Tara, and coughed up a flower on the table, and I choked back a sob. Tears threatened to poor, but I couldn’t embarrass myself more than I had with the bloody peony in front of me. She came around the table and hugged me, and I mumbled through quivering lips, “Can you take me home please?”

That night the girl had made it official that she and Zayne were dating. All the pictures on social media, the hearts that their friends commented on each other's posts. A disgruntled feeling made my chest spasm, any time I’d post a picture of Zayne he’d make me take it down immediately.

The morning of my surgery, I got up and put on my favorite sweater Zayne had gotten me for my sixteenth birthday.

“I got it for you last month when you stared at it in the shop’s window.” He smiled when he saw my excitement, one of the rare moments I could see his lips turn upward.

On my walk to the bus stop, I saw him sitting there. Once he looked up and saw me, he stood.

“Where have you been?” Zayne looked at me and frowned. I suppressed the immediate urge to roll my eyes.

“I never see you around campus. You’re never in your usual spots, and I texted you. I was supposed to help you study. Are you still attending your classes?” Even after not seeing each other for weeks, he still found a way to shame me. His eyes hard, lips pressed together into a tight line, I wasn’t even sure he was happy to see me.

The bus pulled up.

“Are you going to take the bus?” I asked him, avoiding his gaze.

He shook his head, “No, I’m waiting for-”

“Yeah, okay. I have to go.”

“Wait,” I turned around to him. It had begun to snow, so the small flakes sparkled on his head in the early morning light like glitter. He always loved winter, the snow.

He stared at me for a few seconds before shaking his head, changing his mind.

I nodded. “I’ll see you, Zayne.” Saying his name felt like acid on my tongue.

Turning around without taking another look at him, I boarded the bus.

Two days later, when I finally came home from my surgery, the only difference I could tell at first was that my chest didn’t hurt anymore. I could finally breathe again without feeling like I was choking on air. The doctors gave me a bag of all the flowers that they collected out of me, and at first I refused to look at them.

Yet as soon as I got home, I felt compelled to sit on my floor and sort through them.

I made piles of each flower, twirling them in my fingers before placing them in their designated places. Some had long vines that I used to tie them together into a crown.

After I finished, I spotted a jacket under my bed. I pulled it out to see it was the black jacket he wore the night we danced together outside that stupid party.

I took a deep breath of it, wishing I would feel the same way I did that night;

But I felt nothing.

It was now just a jacket. He was now just Zayne.

I put it on, wrapping it tightly around my body. I nestled the flowers along my head like a crown of thorns.

Looking at the girl in the mirror, staring at her with her blood stained flower crown, I broke down.

(divider by cafekitsune)

[mothmothm0th]

on forming a basic understanding of the moth

cw: parasitism

As a moth, the second most common refrain I hear is "I don't know what you are" in a myriad of different phrases. This is understandable and even preferable to the topmost common refrain. However, this confusion is not because us moths are strange or unusual on some deep, existential level. And indeed, it is a mistake to assume that because one is not strange or unusual, one cannot be a moth. Many of us present as perfectly ordinary, even to ourselves.

Of course, the typical moth will be glad to know that you find it confusing. Even I, as I write my little essay, am torn between being a good communicator and helpful teacher and throwing you off a cliff into a cloud of soporifics and dream-stuff. Thus, assuming an adverserial, distrustful stance to whatever I say is probably a reasonable thing to do. I could be lying out of my abdomen. Or possibly my thorax. Even if I was, I would still be attempting to present my case in such a manner that I would appear trustworthy and thuswise lure you into a false sense of confidence. I wouldn't do that to you though. We're friends, right? We're buddies!

Anyway, at the heart of the moth is a simple syllogism. If the term is unfamiliar to you, you will likely have encountered many examples of them in your life, such as Aristotles famous formulation, originally found in his foundational work en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Syllogism (350 BC). His syllogism states as such: "All men are mortal. Socrates is a man. Therefore, Socrates is mortal." I could explain syllogisms more thoroughly but I've already provided you with a source to learn for yourself. I'm a moth, not a science teacher. Instead, let's look at the syllogism of the moth. Consider this:

"All moths yearn. The author of this text is a moth. Therefore, the author yearns."

Simple, no? Now, put your thinking cap on and consider this one for size.

"All moths yearn. The author of this text yearns. Therefore, the author is a moth."

Now, I want you to ask yourself whether the statement given is true. And please do it before semantic satiation claims us all. I'll just give you some time to think really hard and I'll be doing that by way of writing nonsense to pad out the length of this paragraph because I need to make it look longer to satisfy the part of my brain that makes writing such a hassle sometimes but please don't be alarmed as purple scissors will not harm you underneath the tulip skies so long as you think really carefully and draw your conclusions with precision.

Did you think about it? Did anything seem amiss? That's right, there wasn't! The second syllogism is perfectly sound and valid beyond a reasonable doubt. All moths yearn, and all that yearns is moth. Good on you for not falling for that trap. You're so smart, and <first draft note!! insert applicable compliment here: beautiful | handsome | Still. don't forget to edit this later!!> too!

Of course, you might be thinking something along the lines of "well, I feel a deep sense of need for something too but that doesn't make me a moth." In reality, you are... possibly maybe correct in some sense of the word. However, what you experience as an emotion is actually a moth's egg, laid in the sweet tasty fabrics of your heart. If this makes you think "woah, so moth-eggs are everywhere, then", you would be quite right! While modern life has taken away the stars by which we navigate the night, those same conditions paradoxically help in the spontaneous generation of our eggs. Don't take this as me saying modern life bad. Pointing out how modern life is bad and bad for you is somewhat passé and indeed, we moths have existed since day one. In fact, to assume that I am saying that modern life bad assumes that I think mothiness is a bad thing. And I'm not saying that, stop saying I'm saying that.

Anyway, let's move out of the realm of baseless accusations about what I believe in and talk about the lifecycle of a moth a tad more. As described, a moth begins life as an egg, just like all other girls. And as discussed, a moth-egg is experienced by the fabric that lays it as yearning. Academic sources and my diurnal dreams differ on whether the yearning or the egg comes first. You may have heard this dilemna by its authorised discursive phrase, "chicken and the egg". A nice lil peek behind the Veil for you there. Don't worry about it.

As the moth-egg hatches, the moth/yearning enters its larval stage. The larva/yearning will begin to consume its fabric/host-mind. While this may sound scary, I invite you to consider how you are already being consumed by many things all the time, metaphorically. Capitalism consumes your labour, love consumes your reason, a third thing consumes another abstract concept, and so on and so on. Thus, while the process of mothly consumption gradually gnaws through the liminality between metaphor and literal, mind and soul, soul and body, it is still no more destructive than the aforementioned. You will not survive life unchanged. Give it up. Embrace metamorphosis. That's my advice to the moth-eaten fabrics in the audience anyway. But you're not moth-eaten. You're <ok seriously though what's a good gender, species, construct, and modality neutral word of praise?> so you don't have to worry about me trying to hasten anything. The eggs in your mind have not hatched. They will not hatch. Don't worry about it.

When the larva/yearning has thoroughly consumed its banquet/host, it weaves itself a cocoon/anticipation within the nice space left within the host's closet/skull. Some naughty witches have devised means of harvesting silk/desire from this cocoon/anticipation and the smart ones even wait until the imago/apotheosis has emerged before committing to the harvest. I wouldn't do either though, so don't worry. But we're getting off-track here. During this gestation period, the moth-to-be experiences a gradual shift in cognition. While most sources typically describe this shift in cognitive possibility space as "major depressive disorder" or "bipolar disorder" or "dissociative disorder" or even "other specified dissociative disorder", these label only apply to the more mundane, less exciting forms of having one's mind consumed. If you're a fully grown imago, you should sue!! In fact, please send me an ask with your frequency, flavour, and cardinality and I'll send you an oneiro-mail with instructions on the proper legal curses to apply.

Ah, distracted distracted. Mustn't let one get too distracted. You are not an imago. At least if you're the audience/sucker I'm writing this essay/trap for. No, no, no. You're here to learn what the lifecycle of a moth/yearning is! So let's talk about the moment a moth/yearning hatches/transcends. While the shift from larva to pupa is gradual enough that one might not even realise it is happening, the moment of transcendence is not. The final step of any metamorphosis is the most traumatic. It is a moment of great pain and of great bliss. John of the Cross/some nerd described it as "the dark night of the soul", which is a fitting description considering, yknow, nights. Moths. You get me. But that nerd was subscribed to some fake news youtuber and misattributed the whole thing to some old geezer who died a whole lotta time ago. Foolish. Foolish! No no no, the moment of hatching is something far greater, and something far more. To hatch is to see the light of Mansus with one's own eyes. To hatch is to become solid. To hatch is to transcend, to reach one's apotheosis of yearning. To become yearning itself. The false self is discarded, the true self is adorned. I see the shapes of things and I reach my hand out and the pain of change once again grips me and my heart sings and I become fluid again to become something anew for the me that is me is not the me that you see but the process is me and you are but a static object compared to me and I see the gods and the devils and they are static too and while my shape shall never be as luminescent I shall deconstruct their light and burn and burn and burn to be reborn and thus shall i die and never die and maybe i even get to drink the sweet sweet nectar of monster energy once again for i shall just be a little guy who is so terrible and nice and so i shall jump for the raw beef and fail the jump and burn in parkour prison until i change again for though i am not great or powerful you shall never diminish my joy and my love and my cycle of mistakes and fuck-ups will continue unto morrow and tomorrow and so it goes and so it goes and.

Oh, you're still here. Didn't notice you. I hope the lil writing exercise didn't bore you or anything. I think writing a bit of modernist pablum every now and then helps keep the mind unpretentious the rest of the time. Gotta keep that ol' noggin nice and crunchy. But in any case, I hope you've enjoyed this brief look into how to write a good essay or whatever the ohio this piece was about. If you're still suffering from symptoms of wanting-to-write-good-but-you-don't-know-how, please send an ask with your true name and object of yearning. I will get in contact with oneiro-mail as soon as I can.

[fishofthewoods]

Oh my god I woke up this morning and my Stardew Valley meta post had almost 150 notes????? Hello?????????? Anyways I started writing this last night because @moon-is-pretty-tonight left nice tags on the original so thank you so much!!

We know from the starting scenes of the game that the farmer's grandfather loved Stardew Valley. So why did he leave? Pelican Town is a good place to grow old; George and Evelyn are just fine. It's a fine place to raise a kid, but maybe he just wanted to raise his child closer to real schools and other children.

Or maybe, just maybe, he understood.

Was there a day when he was in his thirties where he looked at his friends and realized they weren't like him? That he could run faster than them, work longer, explore deeper into the hidden places of the valley?

Was there a day when he went to the wizard to ask him for help, for knowledge if nothing else? Did he learn then that his family was different? Special? Chosen? And how did he react? He couldn't possibly raise a child in the valley if they would be as strange and fey as him. He had to leave. There was no other way.

But years later, on his deathbed, did he regret that choice?

Is that why he gave the farmer the letter?

Is that why they went back home?

When the farmer steps off the bus that first day, the valley is still on the cusp of winter, just barely tipping over into spring. The flowers are starting to bloom, but a chill still hangs in the air. As soon as the farmer's boots touch the soil there's a change. The air gets warmer. The trees get greener. Not by too much, not all at once, but it changes.

The junimos watch the farmer as they do their work. They're new to farming, but take to it with frightening speed; their first batch of crops is perfect. None of the townsfolk tell them that parsnips don't normally grow in less than a week, that cauliflowers don't grow to be ten feet tall, that fairies don't visit when the sun goes down and grow potatoes and beans and tulips overnight. The junimos talk amongst themselves in their strange, wild language, and agree: this is the one. They're back. The valley recognizes its own, even when they've left for a generation. The farmers have come home.

Things change fast in the valley. The community center, empty and decrepit for so many years, is rejuvenated. (Lewis says it was abandoned only a few weeks after the farmer's grandfather left. Strange coincidence, he says, that it both came and went with the farmer's family.) The mines and the quarry, similarly abandoned, are explored for the first time in ages. The town becomes cleaner, brighter, more vibrant, happier.

And it is happier. Not just the environment, but the people. It's the talk of the town for weeks when Haley does her first closet purge. Leah's art show in the town square is a huge success. Shane's smiling for the first time since he moved to the valley. All of them, when asked, say it's all thanks to the farmer.

People love to ask why Lewis didn't fix the community center on his own. Why Willy never repaired the boat to ginger island. Why Abigail or Marlon never went down to fix the elevator in the mines, or why Clint didn't fix the minecarts.

But isn't it so much more interesting to ask how those things were there in the first place? How they got so broken down? If the stories the townspeople tell are true, the valley was once a beautiful place, flourishing and full of life; why did that change? When did it change?

Was it when the farmer's grandfather, the locus of the valley, its chosen representative, left town?

And if so, what happens when the farmer comes back?