#but nope! he was like “...you want me to do what? why??”

[littleapocalypsekitten]

Saw a thing about our new HHS secretary *shudder* Captain Brainworm... He said that he did not support Universal Health Care because he sees people who get cancer after smoking for 20 years of their lives as a drain and undeserving (paraphrase from the Yahoo article I read). I guess he thinks because they do an unhealthy behavior that they just deserve to die in pain. That is, honestly, how a lot of Americans think. I don't know if it's the underlying Calvinism of our culture, but it is how a lot of people think - you get very sick, you must have done something to deserve it somehow. I wonder where it ends - people eating unhealthy? Probably thinks that, too, even though the poor generally don't have a choice in terms of what we can afford and what is available in a lot of places. (How about we Make Organic Veggies Cheap Again, numbskull! Salad stuff, although I love it, takes up, like, half a paycheck for me! At the store I work at! Where I get a discount)! And while I do think smoking is bad and (try to urge family members to quit), it's an incredibly difficult addiction to kick, as are all addictions. My father is a recovering alcoholic. He's been sober for over 30 years now, but still calls himself "recovering" because he gets temptations whenever he sees a beer commercial. That's how it works. He didn't recover alone, he went through an extensive and aggressive rehab program after a non-fatal drunk driving incident. If anyone wants to Make America Healthy Again, Universal Health Care is the ticket because GUESS WHAT?! It will be the thing that pays for rehab programs to get people off junk like booze and tobacco. But, nope, nope, here in America, all the people in charge think about are those people (real and hypothetical) who don't "deserve" treatment for lung cancer or COPD. And, that, my friends, is why innocent people who do "take care of themselves" to the best of their ability are considered some kind of acceptable collateral damage while many of the "guilty" could be saved, as well.

[darlingdaisyfarm]

𝑯𝒂𝒑𝒑𝒚 𝑽𝒂𝒍𝒆𝒏𝒕𝒊𝒏𝒆'𝒔 𝑫𝒂𝒚

a/n: happy valentine’s day, my beloveds!!! i love all of you so, so much. like, so much. if i could, i’d send you all glitter-covered valentine’s cards and the biggest, warmest hugs. i hope today is kind to you, whether you’re spending it with someone, treating yourself or just chilling. you deserve all the love in the world. Bill’s and Fiddleford’s parts are coming bit later, but in the meantime, i hope you enjoy Stan and Ford. take care of yourselves, and remember: you are so, so loved 💖

𝒔𝒕𝒂𝒏𝒍𝒆𝒚

the first thing Stan does on valentine’s day is complain. “ugh,” he groans as he gets out of bed, rubbing his back. “it’s valentines and i wake up feeling like i got hit by a bus.”

you raise an eyebrow when you see him coming downstairs to the kitchen. “you say that every morning, Stan”

“yeah, but today it’s worse. i swear.”

you tilt your head, thinking. “i could give you a massage?”

just one simple innocent offer and Stanley Pines, full-grown conman, ex-criminal, self-proclaimed tough guy, goes absolutely red. “uh—what? no, i don’t need—” he coughs, turning away. “not like—i mean—“

you smirk. ”so that’s a yes?”

“that's a no!” he grumbles, turning away and heading out of the room, all red and embarrassed.

later, after hours of pacing, making frustrated noises and trying to convince himself that this is a stupid holiday and why does he even care, while also trying to figure out how to ask you on a date without looking like a complete idiot. . .

Mabel is busy hanging out with Candy and Grenda, so he turns to Dipper, which is a mistake.

Dipper, who was in the middle of reading Stanford's journal, looks up at him. “so, essentially, grunkle Stan, what you need is a multi-step plan.”

Stan is horrified. “a what?”

“a plan,” Dipper continues, flipping to a fresh page. “a strategic approach. first, we gather data. then, we make a list of optimal date locations. i’m thinking greasy’s diner, because statistically—“

Stanley just groans, dragging a hand down his face and that's when he realises something. he’s overthinking this. he’s sitting here, talking to his nerd nephew, listening to plans and lists, when he’s never needed a damn plan before in his life. what the hell is he doing??

“okay, nope, nevermind. kid, i’m just gonna take ‘em to a diner.”

“wait, what?” Dipper frowns. ”but you need a PLAN!”

”the plan is the diner.”

“wait, grunkle Stan! i was getting to the part about psychological profiling!“

so that’s how Stanley Pines ends up standing in front of you, very awkwardly, scratching the back of his neck. “uh. you, uh. wanna go to greasy’s with me. for a date. or whatever.” the moment the words leave his mouth, he wants to die.

and now he wants to die much more because you just smiled at his words and nodded. “yeah. . . yeah, i’d love to!”

the date is going great, which means Stan wants to run. you are too beautiful. it’s pissing him off. especially when light catches your face, when you laugh, when you keep tilting your head while listening to him ramble about whatever, even though he’s pretty sure he’s not making sense.

his heart is pounding. “soo, uh, you, uh. you ever been arrested?”

in response he gets a full-on, unattractive, choke-on-your-own-spit kind of snort from you, what makes him look so proud of himself.

“okay, ice broken,” he thinks. “we’re doin’ great. yeah.”

Stanley hates himself for it but you are too beautiful and funny. and it is ruining his life. he’s sweating. literally sweating. he tries to make small talk and immediately forgets how to speak like a human being.

he’s gonna run.

he's gonna find some dumb excuse, say he left the stove on, pretend to trip and fall out the window. but what he doesn't know is that he's not the only one who's nervous, you’re both so awkward it’s ridiculous. Stan keeps tugging at his collar. you keep fidgeting with your hands, stuttering and avoiding eye contact

suddenly, even to yourself, you stand up. “non specific excuse!!” after announcing that, you flip the entire damn table over and run out of the diner.

Stan watches this happen in slow motion and, without thinking, he jumps up, pointing at you.

“now that’s my kind of person!" he yells to people at the diner as he runs after you.

you’re both running through the empty gravity falls streets, laughing so hard you can barely breathe. when he finally catches up, you both collapse against a wall, panting.

“i can’t believe you just did that, wow!” Stan wheezes.

“well, i can’t believe you chased me,” you shoot back.

you’re both just grinning at each other like idiots. Stan looks at you and damn, he’s so in love it’s stupid.

𝒔𝒕𝒂𝒏𝒇𝒐𝒓𝒅

there’s glitter in your hair and Ford notices this first, because there’s glitter everywhere, on the floor, on the couch, on him.

“Mabel,” he says slowly, lifting a sleeve coated in shimmering specks. “what exactly have you done?”

Mabel, who is sitting across from you, shrugs, completely unbothered. “we're making valentine’s day masterpieces, obviously.”

you grin, lifting a small, glittery pink heart with messy writing scrawled across it. “see? Mabel’s making some for her friends. im just helping her!”

oh, damn, that adorable smile of yours. . . Ford clears his throat, though his ears turning noticeably pink. “oh. well. that’s very sweet of you.”

before you can say anything, he disappears into the kitchen, leaving you and Mabel alone together.

some time pass and what started with nail polish, somehow escalated to homemade friendship bracelets with Mabel telling you about all boys she met in Gravity Falls, avoiding Gideon's name, you smile at her because that girl looks so cute cutting out ridiculous little shapes with her tongue sticking out.

“you think waddles would like a card?” Mabel asks, tapping her chin. “or do you think pigs don’t understand the concept of romance?”

“i think waddles would eat the card,” you reply, flicking a bit of glitter at her.

“you are so right!”

suddenly, you hear very familiar voice from the kitchen. “no— waddles!! no! bad pig! shoo! go away!”

Mabel screeches so loud your eardrums nearly rupture. “Ford and Waddles interaction?! i need to see this!”

you dont even have time to react as she launches herself across the room, screaming your name over and over in excitement.

“off the counter! off the counter now!”

you're a curious person, so when you finally peek in you see Ford half-bent over the kitchen table, trying desperately to shield something from Waddles, who is aggressively attempting to munch on a piece of paper.

“uncle Ford!” Mabel yells, “why are you yelling at my baby??”

Ford jerks up. “i—i. . .”

Mabel’s eyes catch sight of the now slobber-covered valentine’s day card and she gasps again, so loud you cover your ears.

“OH. MY. GOSH.” she whips back toward you, pointing dramatically. “go. go away. go to the living room and act like nothing happened!”

you want to stay here longer, trying to see what is going on there, but Mabel keeps pushing you. “do not question me, just go!”

Ford looks mortified. you, very confused, decide to listen to Mabel and back out. when you sit down on the glitter-covered floor, you still hear their voices, because Mabel just doesn't know what does “talking quiet” means.

“oh my gosh, uncle Ford!” from the kitchen comes the unmistakable sound of a chair scraping across the tile, a very panicked grunt, and what is possibly the sound of an envelope being hastily shoved under something. “i knew it! you were making a valentine’s day card!! oh my GOSH, i knew it!! i knew you had a crush on—“

“MABEL!!”

“i can’t believe this, holy llama socks, you’re actually doing something romantic!”

“shh!! keep your voice down!! what if—“

“what color was the glitter? tell me right now. was it pink? was it gold?! it was gold, wasn’t it?!”

there’s a very long pause. then, Ford mutters, “. . .it was gold.”

Mabel squeals. ”uncle Ford, you have to give it to them, please please please!”

“i can’t do that!”

“ughh, why not?!”

Ford sounds so exasperated you can picture him running both hands down his face. “because that is embarrassing! i. . . Mabel, i can't do that.”

”but you wrote them something sweet, didn’t you? DIDN’T YOU??”

“Mabel, sweetie, please.”

“you are so lucky i have a strong sense of mystery, uncle Ford, i would never, ever reveal your deepest secrets. no matter how much they might want to know. even if they asked very nicely. even if they bribed me with candy. even if they looked so, so beautiful today!”

and god, Mabel acts so suspicious for hours. she side-eyes you at dinner, she hums conspicuously when Ford walks past, she does wiggly eyebrows. it’s a whole thing! but she doesn’t tell you why, and by the time the day winds down, you nearly forget. . .

until later that night, when the house is quiet, you find a folded pink valentine’s day card tucked neatly beside your pillow.

the front has a little hand-drawn equation that you don’t totally understand, but something about it makes you smile.

the inside reads, in Ford’s impeccable cursive handwriting:

“of all the possible realities, i’m grateful to exist in this one with you ♡ ”

and underneath, a little scrawled postscript “p.s. please ignore the bite mark on the corner. i had to fight for my life against a pig today.”

[sourco0kie]

https://www.tumblr.com/sourco0kie/775427187568525312/self-aware-au?source=share

Hey loved this and found it so interesting...and got an idea for a whole self aware au...possibly could be a series if you find it fun enough to write...already love what you did with this first writing and defiantly wanna see it in action and your take on this:

Self aware au...cowardly y/n. Just imagine a y/n who gets sucked into the game and is so nervous about the story because of the fights, rivalries, and etc...like they know the story of cookie run so they are TERRIFIED at first when they first enter the world...maybe nervous at first when the cookies become self aware but scared when actually in the world as themselves but a cookie form...just a powerless cookie!

Cue them getting dragged through story, thinking they are gonna die...but here is twist, especially because of this writing I really liked: the cookies adore them! So every time they think they are about to die or get caught in the crossfire? Nope, they are perfectly safe and loved! Can't wait to see all the hilarious senarios of y/n panicking and thinking 'this isn't gonna end well for me' only to be immediately proven wrong via y/n being protected, comforted, or whatever you want lol!

AAAA I LOVE THIS IDEA!

Ideas are exploding in my head!

Self Aware Au

W/cowardly!Reader

You don't know how but you have been sucked into the game. At first you just wanna relax on the couch then suddenly, poof, you're in the game.

The first to meet you was the team. They saved you from a couple of cake hounds and cake wolves. You introduce yourself to them and oh what a wrong move.

Gingerbrave was instantly all over you, fawning on about you and finally excited to meet you. Both Pure Vanilla Cookie and Wizard Cookie were questioning how you got here.

That aside, Gingerbrave insists on having you travel with them. At first you don't agree, saying you rather not, already knowing what will happen next with all the spoiler episodes you watched. Wizard Cookie agrees with you until Gingerbrave literally begged for you to come.

Geez just like how you begged for new cookies to come home in your gacha.

You gave in and went with their adventure, honestly all the time traveling you felt bad. Not having the skill to do.. anything. They would reassure you every time, "It's okay.. [Name] Cookie. Just getting to know you along the way was a gift."

Gift? Okay Pure Vanilla..

Finally all of you arrived at the place, Beast-Yeast. Being there somehow gives you the chills, the crawling feelings of being watched.

You all met Elder Faerie Cookie. Soon White Lily Cookie. You both introduce yourself, luckily (or unluckily which ever you wanna see it) she doesn't seem to recognize you from outside the screen.

It's all great, until you meet him. Oh how the presence just makes you wanna coward back and run. Hide away from everything. Not to mention you can't do anything. And he can do anything he wants.

"Oh. I see I have quite an audience here! I am SO terribly sorry to have kept you waiting!!"

You froze, you can't move even as your mind screams at you to run. It wasn't scary when you passed this episode.. why is it now? Why do you feel fear now? Is it because you couldn't do anything, like closing the game?

"But now... The wait is over!"

Move your body, run! Anything!

"Your favorite trickster is here!

The sharp stares of his eyes, lands directly at you. Your body shakes. You know what will happen! You know what's next! But why are you still afraid? You expected this long ago!..

Oh what some silly thoughts!

Gingerbrave put a stance between you and the beast. He seems as scared as you are but.. he's determined enough to protect you. They all did.

The faerie kingdom fell into deceit, playing lies and truth like a game for fun. Shadow Milk Cookie returns once in a while to tell the stories Elder Faerie Cookie told them. But different.

It goes like you expected so you wouldn't fall for his lies easily. In one of the plays he described you. The divine, watching over them, Oh they were saddened when the five original power holders fell and sealed away.

No you were not.

At the end you watched as the team defeated the trickster. After he tried to swoop you away from them.

You watched both Pure Vanilla Cookie and White Lily Cookie exchange. Now you don't know where to go. You're lost without a home or anything. But they, accept you into The team with open arms. You have no choice either way, as you follow them to the next adventure.

[mintfullyyours]

something blue

Happy Valentine’s Day everyone!

I'd originally written this as a multi-chap fic so this is what I have so far. Thank you so much for reading!! I really appreciate and love talking to everyone about the 141! authors here are so talented and feed me in every way that I'm grateful to have this creative outlet too.

AnYWAY!!! LMK what y'all think.

Other Simon pics for your consideration: amnesiac!simon part 1, amnesiac!simon part 2-ish, patching up exhusband!simon, ex-husband!simon part 2, to give a dog a bone (aka saving simon once),

"Baby, listen, I needed a break so I could do some... soul-searching."

You pressed your phone to your ear, weaving through the crowd as you descended the escalator toward baggage claim. "And soul-searching had to happen between your assistant's legs?"

"It was one time," James sighed, exasperation laced in his voice.

"Right. And that makes it better somehow?" You scoffed, adjusting the duffle bag slipping off your shoulder. "Listen, James, I have to go. It’s my sister's wedding week, and I’m really looking forward to explaining to my entire family why my cheating ex won’t be in attendance—for obvious reasons."

Too focused on maneuvering through the sea of travelers, you didn’t notice the hulking figure in your path until you collided—shouldering a body that felt like solid stone. A shock shot through you, something sharp and electric, like static but deeper, rippling under your skin.

"Shit—sorry," you mumbled, barely sparing the man a glance. But even in that fleeting moment, there was something about him. The sheer size of him, the weight of his gaze, the way he felt — like gravity had shifted just for him.

A grunt emanated from his lips. You shook your head and darted away from him – not wanting to deal with the locals and refocused your attention on the carousel.

“Baby, I—”

"Nope. Goodbye." You hung up mid-protest and exhaled, exasperated. The last thing you needed was James’ voice in your ear ruining the little bit of peace you had left.

The conveyor belt whirred to life and your simple black suitcase rolled into view. You grabbed it swiftly, eager to put distance between you and the airport chaos, already exhausted by the week ahead. You just needed a hot shower, a drink, and a moment to forget your disaster of a love life.

Unbeknownst to you, across the baggage claim, a towering man in a black hoodie with a camouflage print duffle bag was staring down at a suitcase identical to yours.

Simon Riley’s brow furrowed beneath his mask as he realized his luggage was missing.

At your hotel room, you finally picked up your mother’s call—something you’d been avoiding all night.

“You’re coming for... As the Brits would say afternoon tea tomorrow, right?” she asked, her voice chipper and expectant. “Your sister’s future in-laws will be there too.”

“Yeah, of course, Mom,” you mumbled, shutting the curtains to your room.

“Oh, good! Wear the pink dress I bought you then.” You shuddered at the thought of wearing something so fluffy. “And you brought your sister’s baby pictures?”

You plopped onto the floor, suitcase in front of you, already unzipping it. “Yes, they’re in my lugga—”

Your words cut off as the sight before you sank in.

This… wasn’t your luggage.

“What the fuck…” you mumbled, sifting through the unfamiliar belongings. Your mother tsked on the other end. “Language.”

“Sorry, uh—yeah. I brought them,” you said absentmindedly, but panic had already started to settle in. Your suitcase could be anywhere by now. You were so screwed.

Your fingers frantically dug into the foreign clothing, pulling out neatly folded black shirts—all black, heavy-duty material, the kind that felt expensive but built for function. Then came the cargo pants, thick straps and buckles lining the sides. You lifted a jacket that looked like it weighed more than you, feeling the sheer size of it, like it belonged to a man carved from stone.

And then—your fingers brushed against something different.

Thick. Stiff. Worn.

You pulled it out, expecting a belt or gloves—only to be met with the hollow, gaping eyes of a skull mask.

A chill ran down your spine.

The material was sturdy, molded for durability, not for show. The kind of thing that didn’t belong in civilian luggage.

A weight settled in your stomach, but before you could even process it, your fingers brushed against another.

And then another.

Your pulse spiked as you pulled them free—three, four—each identical, yet different. Some had cracks along the bone-white surface, others bore deep scuffs, dark smudges, like they’d been through hell. One of them had what looked like dried blood staining the lower jaw.

Your mind raced. What the hell kind of person needed multiple skull masks? Your throat went dry. Was he some kind of serial killer? A mercenary? A complete fucking psycho? Why the hell did you have this bag?

“Also, did James arrive with you?”

Your mother’s voice cut through the silence. Another muttered fuck under your breath. “Who? Sorry, yeah, Mom… about that.”

“Is that Sissy?” a voice chirped in the background. “Gimme, gimme — hello?”

Your sister’s voice replaced your mother’s, bright and teasing. She was always so much better at this, at life, than you. 

“Heyyy,” you said, forcing lightness into your tone, “I’m excited to see you tomorrow!”

“Ugh, same. Save me from the mom-sanity,” she giggled. “You’re bringing James, right? I’m dying to meet the guy!”

Your fingers traced the luggage lining, searching—praying—for some kind of identification. Then, finally, you found it. A small leather name tag, embossed with a name and phone number.

Without thinking, without breathing, you word-vomited the first name you saw. “Did I say James? Because I meant… Simon.”

A pause. Well you were committed to the bit now. 

“...Simon Riley.”

The name sat heavy in the air, and your fingers tightened around the mask still in your lap.

You didn’t know who Simon Riley was. But for now that didn’t matter. The name sat heavy between you and your sister, stretching the air thin. Your sister broke the silence first, “Okay… I guess I have time to change the seating card but really sissy, you have to tell me these things sooner. And Simon's your boyfriend, right?”

She asked and then, a vibration.

Your head snapped to your phone screen.

UNKNOWN CALLER.

You chose to ignore it, "Yes, I'm with Simon. Been almost a year now." The lie came easily because what else could you have said?

Then another vibration.

This time, a text.

A single message.

“Wrong bag, love. But you already knew that.”

A chill shot down your spine with skull masks staring up at you. You gulped and hung up the phone after you reassured your sister you'd be there tomorrow. This was going to be a long night.

Now you and Simon Riley had never met before. Not properly, anyway.

The first time he knew you existed was because of a simple mix-up at the baggage claim. Nothing special. Nothing deliberate. Just a wrong bag taken by the wrong person at the worst possible time.

And yet—

The moment he unzipped your suitcase, his entire world tilted.

Your scent was the first thing that hit him. Something warm, something sweet. Not perfume—no, it was deeper than that. Skin and shampoo and you. He could smell it on the soft sweater tucked inside, the delicate pink lace of something he shouldn’t be touching, but he does anyway.

Then, there was the red floor-length dress.

The dress that, for some fucking reason, he couldn't stop staring at.

His fingers flexed around the fabric, his mind already playing tricks on him—How would it fit? Would it hug her just right? Would it be easy to pull up, to push aside—

His jaw clenched.

He shouldn’t be thinking about you like this.

But then there were the other things—small, delicate things that told him more about you than a conversation ever could. The book tucked into the side pocket. The neatly folded socks. The half-used lipstick that made his pulse tick in his throat.

What would that color look like staining the skin around his cock?

And that was when he knew.

Knew he had to see you.

He thanked the Universe for the handy contact information on your luggage tag and reached for his phone.

It wasn't about the luggage anymore.

It was about you.

Tag list

@ebodebo @meheheasasa @thegirlintheshadows101 @galactict3a @star-buck-barnes @synamonthy @vylaris @vvenus-child @negomisan @heretoreadanddrinktea @mocalocha @icommitwarcrimes @readingcatinacorner @just-lilita @blackhawkfanatic @kristalhi

[player042]

VALENTINE'S DAY | kang dae-ho.

pairing: kang dae-ho (player 388) x reader

summary: ever dreamt of spending valentine's day with dae-ho?

warning: established relationship, and just fluff basically

word count: 2.5k

Some nights were meant for quiet, and some nights were not. Your phone's screen illuminated the dimly lit bedroom, casting faint shadows on the walls behind you as you scrolled aimlessly. You were already in bed, wrapped up in a cozy blanket, your hair still slightly damp from your earlier shower. It had been a long day, and all you wanted was to unwind, maybe watch a few videos before dozing off.

But, of course, Dae-ho had other plans.

At exactly midnight, just as you were about to lock your phone and finally call it a night, the bed dipped beside you. A warm hand slid across your waist, and before you could react, a familiar voice murmured in your ear.

"Baby," Dae-ho purred, his voice low, teasing. "It's officially Valentine's Day."

You exhaled a quiet laugh, not bothering to look up from your screen. "Mmm. Happy Valentine's Day. Now go to sleep."

Instead of listening, he nuzzled closer, pressing a lazy kiss just below your ear. "Nope. You're not sleeping through our first Valentine's Day together. Not happening. Get up."

You frowned, finally glancing over at him, "I wasn't planning on sleeping through it. I was planning on celebrating it like a normal person. Tomorrow. When it's light out. And warm."

"Oh, believe me, we'll do that, too."

His face was half-buried against your shoulder, but you could feel the unmistakable energy radiating off him. He was up to something.

"Dae-ho, it's midnight," you groaned, already knowing he wasn't going to let this go.

"Exactly," he said, pulling back just enough to grin at you. "It's like… we're starting the day before everyone else. Just you and me."

You sighed, rolling onto your back to properly look at him. He was propped up on one elbow, eyes gleaming with mischief, a lazy, confident smirk tugging at his lips. His hair was slightly tousled from lying down, and he was still in the hoodie and sweatpants he'd changed into earlier. He looked comfortable, which only made you more suspicious.

"What are you plotting?" you asked, narrowing your eyes.

His smirk widened. "I wanna take you somewhere."

You blinked. "Right now?"

"Right now."

You groaned, dragging a hand down your face. "Dae-ho, it's freezing outside."

"I know," he said, undeterred. "That's why I brought you that big fluffy coat you love."

You narrowed your eyes further. "And where, exactly, do you want to take me at midnight?"

He grinned, clearly enjoying this. "It's a surprise."

You gave him a deadpan look. "Dae-ho."

"Babe," he cooed, teasing, making you swat at his arm. He laughed, catching your wrist and pressing a kiss to your palm before wiggling his eyebrows. "Come on. You trust me, don't you?"

You stared at him for a long moment, weighing your options. On one hand, you were warm, comfortable, and perfectly content scrolling through your phone until you fell asleep. On the other hand… this was Dae-ho. And when he got this kind of excited, it was hard to say no.

You sighed dramatically. "I hate that I trust you."

His grin turned victorious. "That's my girl. Now, come on. Get dressed."

Still grumbling under your breath, you threw off the covers and sat up, shivering slightly at the loss of warmth. Dae-ho smacked your thigh playfully before hopping off the bed himself, already heading toward the closet to grab your coat.

"You're going to love this, I swear," he called over his shoulder.

"You say that every time you drag me into one of your spontaneous ideas," you muttered, shuffling toward the dresser to grab some warm leggings.

"And have I ever been wrong?" he asked, tossing your coat onto the bed with a triumphant smirk.

You pulled your sweater over your head and gave him a look. "I'm not answering that."

Dae-ho just laughed, stepping forward to help you into your coat. "Come on now. Time's ticking."

And before you could protest, he was already pulling you toward the door, grinning like a kid on Christmas morning.

You sighed, letting him lead you out into the night, a small smile tugging at your lips despite yourself.

The city felt quieter at night, as if even the chaos of Seoul had decided to take a breath. You and Dae-ho strolled down the dimly lit streets, his hand warm and steady in yours. The air was crisp, but not cold enough to bite, just enough to make you lean into his warmth as you walked side by side.

"Where are we even going?" you asked, glancing up at him. 

He gave you a sideways glance, that same boyish grin tugging at his lips. "You'll see." 

Fifteen minutes later, you were tapping your fingers against your knee, glancing at the time again. Dae-ho had told you to wait, flashing that playful smirk of his before slipping away up an old, slightly rusty fire escape. He'd been gone for a while now, and patience had never been your strong suit.

You sighed, looking up at the night sky. It was clear tonight, the stars barely visible through the city's haze, but still stubbornly shining. Your breath curled in the cool air as you hesitated, then finally pushed yourself up. If he wasn't coming back down soon, you'd just have to go after him.

Carefully, you climbed the fire escape, the metal creaking beneath your weight. At the top, you hesitated, peeking over the edge of the rooftop.

And that's when you saw it.

Candles. A blanket spread out beneath the open sky. A bottle of wine, two glasses waiting. And in the middle of it all, Dae-ho, crouched down, struggling to light the last of the candles. He cursed softly under his breath, shielding the tiny flame with his hands as the breeze fought against him.

A smile tugged at your lips. "Need some help there, Casanova?"

Dae-ho jerked upright at the sound of your voice, nearly dropping the lighter. His expression shifted instantly, lips curving into that familiar, boyish grin. "Hey! You weren't supposed to see this yet!"

You leaned against the railing, arms crossed. "Well, I got tired of waiting, and now I see why. You're fighting a losing battle here."

He groaned, finally managing to light the last candle before tossing the lighter aside with dramatic flair. "Damn wind. Totally ruined my grand reveal."

You stepped closer, warmth from the candles flickering against your skin. "It's already perfect."

Dae-ho's lips curled into a soft grin as he stood, brushing his hands off on his pants. "Thought you deserved something special."

Your heart tightened at his words. He always had this way of making you feel like the only person in the world.

He reached for the wine bottle, topping off your glass before handing it to you. "To us."

You clinked yours against his. "To us."

The first sip was smooth, warming you from the inside out. The city stretched beyond the rooftop, its lights flickering like tiny fireflies. Everything felt soft, quiet, intimate. Neon lights flickered in the distance, their reflections dancing on the Han River, but above you, above the noise and the glow, the sky stretched out, vast and endless.

For a while, neither of you spoke. You lay back on the blanket together, the distant hum of the city below fading into background noise. The silence was comfortable, like a shared secret. His hand found yours again, his fingers tracing lazy patterns along your knuckles.

"You know," he murmured after a moment, his voice barely louder than a whisper, "I read somewhere that stars are just old light. Like… what we're seeing is already in the past."

You turned your head to look at him. His profile was bathed in the soft glow of the candles, eyes flickering with something distant, thoughtful.

"That's kind of depressing," you admitted.

He chuckled softly, shaking his head. "No, it's not. It's… romantic, in a way. Even when they're gone, they're still shining. Still leaving a mark."

You stared at him for a long moment, your heart tightening in that annoying way it always did when he said something unexpectedly profound. "You're such a sap," you whispered, but your fingers tightened around his.

"And you love it."

You didn't reply. You didn't need to.

Instead, you leaned in, your lips finding his in a kiss that tasted like midnight and promises. His arms wrapped around you, pulling you closer, grounding you in a world that suddenly felt a little less overwhelming.

Then, as if remembering something, Dae-ho broke the kiss in a sudden, sitting up. "Oh, almost forgot. I, uh, got you something."

You blinked as he pulled out a small velvet box and placed it in your hands.

"Dae-ho…"

"Relax," he teased. "It's not a ring. Unless you want it to be."

You shot him a glare, and he laughed, nudging you lightly. "Okay, okay. Just open it."

Inside, resting on soft velvet, was a delicate gold necklace, a tiny star pendant dangling from the chain. It was simple but striking; subtle, yet something about it felt personal, like it belonged to you before you'd even touched it.

Your fingers traced the charm, warmth blooming in your chest. "It's beautiful."

Dae-ho rubbed the back of his neck, watching you carefully. "Yeah? I just... I saw it, and it reminded me of you." His voice dipped slightly, quieter now. "Something that still shines, no matter what."

You swallowed past the lump in your throat and, without thinking, leaned in, wrapping your arms around his neck. He let out a small chuckle, arms sliding around your waist, pulling you close.

"So, you like it?"

You pulled back just enough to meet his eyes. "I love it."

His grin widened. "Then it was worth it, my valentine."

Dae-ho gently took the necklace from your hands and motioned for you to turn around. You did, brushing your hair to the side as his fingers grazed your skin while fastening the clasp. The touch was brief, but it sent a shiver down your spine.

"There," he murmured. "Perfect."

You turned back to him, fingers reaching up to trace the tiny charm. "Thank you."

His eyes lingered on yours, something unreadable flickering beneath the warmth. "Anytime."

You lay back down together. His arm draped around you, pulling you against him, your legs tangling beneath the blanket. And as you looked up at the stars again, their light spilling across the night like old secrets, you realized how Valentine's Day wasn't just about fancy dinners and overpriced flowers, it was about moments like this. About moments with the one person you were completely and utterly in love with.

The walk home later was easy, your hands still intertwined, swinging gently between you as the city lights flickered against the dark sky. You walked in silence, but it wasn't the awkward kind. It was the kind that buzzed with anticipation, like both of you knew exactly where this night was headed but were savoring every second before you got there. Overhead, the stars still twinkled, faint but steady, like they were in on some secret the two of you shared.

Dae-ho's thumb traced idle circles against your skin, his steps perfectly in sync with yours. The warmth of his hand in yours was familiar, comforting. His fingers tightened around yours, and when you glanced up at him, his grin had softened into something more tender. The kind of look that made your chest ache in the best way.

"You know," he murmured, his voice a little quieter now, "I was thinking about this all day."

You raised an eyebrow, though your heart was already beating a little faster. "About what?"

"This." He gestured vaguely, but you knew he meant more than just the stars or the walk home. His thumb brushed over the back of your hand again, slow and deliberate. "Us. You. The fact that I get to come home to you every day."

Your breath hitched, just a little. It always did when he got like this, when he dropped the teasing for just a second and let you see all that emotion he usually kept tucked beneath his easy smiles.

But, true to form, he didn't let the mood linger too long.

"And, of course…" He flashed that familiar, cocky grin, leaning in until his lips hovered just above your ear. "…how good you're gonna look when that red lingerie's on my floor."

Your skin tingled where his breath had ghosted over your ear as you shot him a sideways glance. A feeling of mischief flickered to life then. Two could play this game.

"Oh?" you hummed, pretending to consider his words. "You're that excited to get home?" Without breaking eye contact, you let your hand trail lazily up to your shoulder, fingers brushing against the fabric of your top. Then, ever so slowly, you slid the neckline down just enough to reveal the thin, crimson strap of your bra. "What if I told you…" you continued, your voice low and teasing, "…I wore it just to not let you see it?"

For a moment, he froze mid-step, his playful grin faltering as his eyes zeroed in on the hint of lace peeking out. You watched, thoroughly amused, as his eyes darkened slightly, the playful glint now laced with something deeper. His tongue darted out to wet his lips, and for a second, you swore he forgot how to breathe. You bit the inside of your cheek to keep from laughing, as he swallowed hard, his Adam's apple bobbing.

"Babe," he said slowly, his voice a little rougher with a warning edge to his tone, but his lips twitched like he couldn't decide between being flustered or amused. "You really wanna test me right now?"

You raised an innocent brow, struggling to keep a straight face. "Test you? I'm just walking, babe. You're the one losing composure over a little strap."

That did it.

He let out a breathless laugh, running a hand through his hair as if trying to steady himself. "Oh, you're in trouble now," he muttered, eyes gleaming with affection and playful menace.

Before you could react, he lunged. You let out a squeal as he grabbed your waist, spinning you around in the middle of the empty street. Your laughter bubbled up uncontrollably, echoing off the buildings as he pressed his forehead against yours, both of you breathless.

"You think you're funny, huh?" he whispered, his lips ghosting over yours, his breath warm and intoxicating.

"I know I'm funny," you shot back, grinning wide.

He chuckled, shaking his head like he couldn't believe what he'd gotten himself into. "You're lucky I love you," he murmured, his voice low and sincere, laced with that familiar warmth that always melted you from the inside out. "Because if we weren't already almost home, I'd prove just how much trouble you're in."

Your heart skipped a beat, but you kept your cool, leaning in until your lips were just a hair's breadth from his. "Promises, promises," you whispered, before slipping out of his arms and sauntering ahead, leaving him standing there, shaking his head and laughing to himself.

You didn't need to look back to know he was watching you with that familiar fire in his eyes.

And damn, you couldn't wait to get home.

Because Valentine's Day had only just begun.

[star4daisy]

14/02 I valentine I 715 words I @rosekillermicrofic

(@ecstarry, @del-stars, @moon-seas and for @v7lgar, hope it makes you laugh once you wake up, darling)

“And after all that, James showed up with a huge bouquet and my favourite chocolate to ask me to be his Valentine,” Regulus told Dorcas and Pandora who were listening avidly to his every word.

“How romantic,” Pandora sighed.

Barty frowned. “Wait, haven’t you two been dating for months already?”

“So what?” Regulus asked defensively.

“So why would he need to ask you to be his Valentine? Wasn’t it a given?”

His friends scowled at him. “No, you have to ask even if you’re dating.”

Barty had never heard of that before. “Nah, no way.”

“Wait, does this mean you haven’t asked Evan yet?” Regulus realised.

“Of course not,” Barty scoffed. “We’re dating, he knows he’s my bloody valentine.”

“Does he?” Pandora challenged.

Barty froze. If any of his other friends had said it he’d think they were taking the piss, but this was Pandora — Evan’s twin sister — privy to information he never was when it came to his boyfriend's mind. “Did he say anything?” he asked with uncertainty.

“He didn’t have to.” Pandora shrugged, but she had her famous innocent smile that was anything but, her eyes twinkled in amusement. Barty wanted to shake her, to kneel at her feet and beg to know every thought that passed through Evan’s mind. “But if you didn’t ask, then I’m sure others did.”

“What the fuck is that supposed to mean?” Barty stood up. “He’s my boyfriend, he can’t be anyone else’s Valentine.”

“Well if you didn’t bother to ask…” She singsonged.

“Shut up, that’s not a thing. You’re all trying to prank me.”

“When have we ever?” Dorcas rolled her eyes at him. “I asked Marlene, it was very sweet and pretty sure Lily asked Dora too.”

Pandora nodded, smiling at the memory of her girlfriend's surprise.

“Even Sirius asked Remus,” Regulus added up. “You’re the only one valentineless.”

“I’m not valentineness, or whatever the fuck, I’m going to Hogsmeade with Evan.”

“Does he know that?” Regulus challenged.

“Of course he does,” Barty got defensive. “We always go together.”

“If you say so.” 

“I do.” Barty started pacing.

“Never hurts to make sure, though.” Dorcas pointed out.

She did make a good argument and it wasn’t like Barty was just waiting for an excuse to stop being stubborn and make sure his boyfriend hadn’t accepted anyone else’s invitation.

“You’re right.”

“I always am,” she bragged.

Barty rolled his eyes but didn’t wait to argue, he had things to do, his person to woo. He was almost out the door when Pandora interrupted him. “Wait, how are you asking him?”

“I’m coming up to him and doing it.” Obviously.

“Poor, Evan.” Regulus shook his head in solidarity.

“What is that supposed to mean?”

“It has to be special, Barty. You can’t just ask.” Dorcas spoke to him like he was a small child.

“Of course I can.”

“Then he might not accept.” Pandora pointed out.

“He has to. We’re dating.” Barty tried not to stomp his foot.

“Not if you don’t ask properly.”

“Oh, fuck off. You’re having me on.”

“Nope, you need to give him his favourite things too, make it big,” Regulus told him. 

“Valentine’s Day is tomorrow. How am I supposed to make him a big surprise?”

“We’ll help,” Dorcas reassured him.

“Yeah,” Pandora smiled sweetly. “That’s what friends are for.”

“Thanks, guys.” Barty was touched.

Not so much though when his friends convinced him to spell roses to fall on Evan once he entered the Common Room to be greeted by Barty holding his favourite French chocolate with floating words spelling ‘Will you be my Valentine?’

As if he didn’t feel stupid enough, Evan’s eyes almost popped out of his head when he saw him. “Oh, that’s today?” he asked in confusion.

Barty froze. His so-called friends laughed. And he promised revenge in the near future. He knew they had to have been making fun of him, but the fear of not having Evan by his side had won out in the end. That was what he got for believing them.

"Tomorrow," Barty corrected. "You're going to Hogsmeade with me."

It wasn't a question.

Evan frowned. "Who else would I go with?"

Barty was going to kill Pandora. And Regulus and Dorcas for good measure.

But then Evan kissed him. Anything but his lips was forgotten.

[forcaleb]

a picture worth sharing — caleb

warnings — fluff, childhood friends to lovers (kind of, it's implied)

notes — i think childhood friends to lovers is one of my favorite tropes in the books and fics // tags: @aomiiine @sydneybee @tojicide

caleb taps your shoulder, trying to show you a picture on his phone. “hey, pip-squeak, do you remember when-”

you quickly cut him off. “nope! no, i don’t. i actually don’t know what you’re talking about.” you turn your head away, refusing to look at his phone, already suspecting it’s something embarrassing.

“you didn’t even let me finish,” caleb says, a pout evident on his lips. “come on, i promise it’s something good. you’ll love it.”

“no way! the last time you tried showing me something, it was an embarrassing picture of me as a kid!” you grimace, recalling the picture of you crying because you fell off a slide. caleb had snapped the shot with your grandma’s phone before tending to your scraped knee. “i’m not looking at whatever you’re about to show me.”

“hey, i swear it’s nothing embarrassing this time,” caleb promises. “it’s actually a picture of us from your graduation day.”

that piques your interest. “huh? really? where? i haven’t seen my graduation pictures in so long.” you reach for caleb’s phone, but instead of handing it to you, he raises it out of reach. “hey! i thought you wanted to show it to me!”

“yeah, but aren’t you going to apologize for… whatever that was just now?” caleb raises an eyebrow.

you groan. “ugh, fine. i’m sorry for assuming you were going to be mean to me. forgive me? pretty please?” you give him the classic puppy eyes, his ultimate weakness.

“pip-squeak…” caleb sighs, shaking his head. “alright, i give up. here, look.”

he shows you his phone, and your eyes widen at the sight of the picture. it is a picture of you and caleb together during your graduation day. you stand just in front of caleb, your body angled slightly toward the camera. you are holding a bouquet of sunflowers in both hands, your face lit up with a warm, cheerful smile. behind you, caleb stands slightly to your side, his posture relaxed and confident. one of his hands rests gently on your shoulder, a subtle gesture of support and closeness. 

“cute, isn’t it?” he asks, grinning.

“how have i never seen this picture before?” you exclaim.

“well…” caleb smiles mischievously. “i made sure the photographer didn’t upload this to the graduation album. that way, i could surprise you with it anytime, like now.”

“wait, was it the photographer or one of your friends from the academy? i remember you coming to my graduation with a friend... gideon, right?” you ask, recalling how gideon kept teasing caleb about being so smitten with you.

“hm… well, it’s both, actually.” caleb points out. he swipes left and shows another version of the photograph. except, this time it’s a different shot. in this image, you are posing playfully in front of caleb, tilting your head to the side with a big, joyful smile. you raise one arm high in the air in an energetic and carefree gesture, adding a lively and cheerful tone to the scene. caleb stands behind you, his body angled slightly toward you, wearing a relaxed smile. his expression is calm and gentle, complementing your vibrant energy. “this is the one gideon took, and the previous one was taken by the photographer.”

“why didn’t you send these to me before?” you whine. “i could’ve used one for that empty photo frame I’ve been keeping in a box for a whole year.”

“okay, okay, i’ll send them now.” caleb chuckles as he opens your text thread and sends both pictures. “see? told you it wasn’t anything embarrassing.”

“yeah, yeah. i’m sorry for assuming the worst.” you apologize again, narrowing your eyes at him. “but from now on, you’d better send me any photos of us together. don’t you dare hide them from me again.”

“sure,” caleb agrees easily, his grin turning playful. “as long as i get to keep the silly pictures of you.”

“caleb! don’t you dare!” you shout, smacking his arm, while he laughs, clearly enjoying your reaction.

[clairewritesfanfics]

Dragon!Sylus x Non-MC!Reader Part 1

Synopsis: A depressed, transmigrated fan dedicates their life worshipping their favorite character. (Because not everyone can be a badass like MC.)

Trigger Warnings: depression, mentions of self-harm and suicide attempts

Imagine being a depressed and overworked person, on the brink of throwing away your life, when your attempt is interrupted by an ad of Sylus' voice saying, "I adore you. There is no love purer than mine." Broken and alone, the words of a fictional character sends you to tears and you stop yourself from doing the unthinkable.

Finding hope again, if only in the brief moments spent playing a dating sim, you decided to give life a chance. You continued with the same routine, waking up, going to work, eating the same cheap meals from the convenience store and finding happiness with your favorite character. You used any spare money you had to buy Sylus merch and get all his cards. Life wasn't perfect, but you were content.

Until one day, you were sucked into a mysterious wormhole that transported you to a familiar, otherworldly room filled with rare metals, sparkling jewels and all sorts of weapons. Lying on a bed of velvet was a back all too familiar.

You’ve taken over a hundred photos of that back and have memorized every vein, every muscle, even the way the spine dipped oh so deliciously. 

Was this heaven?

Did God take pity on your pathetic existence and decided to give you a second chance?

No, this was probably a dream–”Ow!” You pinched yourself a little too hard. Nope, not a dream.

You glanced at your hands and body, you were still you. In the game, this part is when the Main Character would attempt an assassination, but you weren’t the MC here. There is a chance–no, the chances of you dying here was as good as 99%. You had no powers, no system, skill or cheat to help you here. 

But if you were going to die, at least you can go by your own terms.

“Um, excuse me? Hello?” 

The dragon said nothing and you opted to crawl towards him. “Mister Dragon? Are you awake?” Knowing that death was almost certain, you decided to throw away all inhibitions and reached out to trace the curve of his spine. “Hello–!”

His cold, spiked tail wrapped around your waist until the tip rested on your chest. You couldn’t help but gasp when your favorite turned to face you.

No 3D rendered model or painting from your world could capture even a tenth of the true thing's magnificence. Official sources said he was 6'2", but the real thing looked like he surpassed two meters. He towered over you completely. Maybe it wasn' height alone but his very aura that made you feel so small. 

He was so beautiful. 

“My, what do we have here? A stray puppy?”

That voice was smooth and deep as melted chocolate. You wanted to thank God, Buddha, Satan and all other powerful entities for letting you witness this moment. 

He stared down at you, assessing everything. If you had known you’d end up here you would’ve taken a bath and worn something better. 

“How odd. You have no magic power and you lack any muscle that most assassins and warriors have. It’s almost as if you’re an ordinary person.”

Okay, ouch. But he wasn’t wrong. 

You raised both hands. “You’re right, I’m as average as they come.” 

“Then tell me what an ‘average’ citizen such as yourself wanted with me.”

You tilted your head in thought before answering, “I wanted to meet you.”

“Surely, you’re joking.”

“I’m perfectly serious.”

“You must take me for a fool.”

“No, I truly did want to meet you.” 

“Why are you here? Surely, you didn’t come here to die.”

“No.” Though you were prepared. “I just wanted to see you.”

His eyes can pierce through any lie, but your gaze was as clear as a cloudless sky and without a trace of deception. He was unsure how to feel about this.

“You’re quite bold. But an ordinary person wanting to meet me for the sake of it feels too odd to be true. Quite stupid, even. Did it ever occur to you that I may not be so polite and just end up taking your heart?”

You raised your head, steady and unfearful as you asked, “Will taking my heart make you happy?” 

You wanted to tell him that every part of you belonged to him now, but even you would cringe at such cheesiness. You decided to be normal about this. “If my organs will make you happy then take them, but I do have a request.” You wriggled closer. “When you take my heart, please look into my eyes until I die.”

You’ve met your favorite, your savior. In a way, Sylus gave you a second chance at life. It seemed only fitting to perish with him being the last thing you saw. 

Sylus stared at you with guarded curiosity. “I’ve never met someone so eager to die before. Either that or you are an excellent liar.” Some humans are trickier than others, they will say anything to get the upper hand. 

“Don’t get cocky, human.” His tail tightened around you. “I don’t know what you’re planning but it’d be all too easy to kill you.”

He expected you to resist, to scream or cry or seduce him. 

Instead, you covered your mouth, the edges curling upwards despite your efforts to appear serious. But it’s not your fault, he’s so cute when he tries to be menacing! You had no doubt that he’d just kill an NPC, but he will always be attractive to you, even as he threatens to rip your heart out.

“This is no laughing matter. Dragons are territorial, you should’ve thought twice before trespassing into my domain.”

“Sy–ahem, Mister Dragon, please remember my request when you end my life.”

“... I’m really going to do it.”

“I know!” You nodded your head vigorously, the grin you tried so hard to suppress looked ridiculous to him. Compared to throwing yourself in front of a train or overdosing on pills, this was your ideal way to die.

“...” 

“...”

“... tsk.” He released you and you can’t help but miss the feeling of his tail choking you. Oh, well. 

“Mister Dragon?”

He returned to lying on his treasures, back turned away from you. 

Not wanting him to think that you were going to backstab him, you got down on all fours and crawled towards his makeshift bed. “Sir Dragon?” 

He remained silent.

"Amazing, extraordinary, most handsome and venerable Lord Dragon–”

"Just–” he sighed “–call me Sylus.”

“Really?!”

“This is the part where you tell me your name.” He couldn’t believe he was teaching etiquette to a human.

“Er, right.” You gave him your name. Though with that voice, he can call you whatever he wants.

“I won’t stop you so go back the way you came and leave me be.”

“I can’t.”

“This isn’t a request. Get out while I’m still being patient.”

“I mean, I literally can’t. I’m not from this place and I don’t know how to get back home.” To be frank, you had little interest in returning. Aside from the LADS update, you weren’t going to miss anything. No friends, no family, only superiors who took advantage of you and a cold, barren apartment with a rent that was two months due. 

Sylus sighed and rolled over. He lay an arm over his torso, looking gorgeous as he looked at you with eyes full of disdain. “Trying to get me to pity you, isn’t going to work.”

“I’m not.” You didn’t need his or anybody else’s pity. You were simply tired, and you were sick of pretending that you weren’t. When Sylus does lose his temper, then at least you could be honest in your final moments. 

To be continued...

[qrrieterisunnq]

Long distance gestures - Nico Hischier

the swiss love charm au

NICO!HISCHIER X AINSLEY!HUGHES — WARNINGS: nothing just sweet pure content — SUMMARY: Nico arranges for a Vancouver bakery to deliver Valentine’s cake to Ainsley and Freya. Freya insists on calling Nico to thank him, and during the call, Ainsley feels the undeniable pull of his charm, even from thousands of miles away. — WORD COUNT: 2,7K PART OF THE SWISS LOVE CHARM AU

Ainsley isn’t a big fan of Valentine’s Day. It is just another day to her—one filled with pink-and-red displays at the grocery store and overpriced flowers. She has already decided to spend the evening watching cartoons with Freya and Quinn while ignoring the steady ping of romantic posts flooding her social media.

“Why is there even a holiday for this?” she mutters, balancing Freya on her hip as she shoves a stack of mail into the drawer by the door. “It’s all just an excuse to sell cheap chocolate and bad greeting cards.”

Quinn, whom is stretched out on their couch with a bag of chips resting on his chest, raises an eyebrow. “You’re just bitter because Freya’s the only one who’s ever gonna get you a Valentine.”

Freya’s head perks up at her uncle’s words. “Made Mommy a card! Hearts on it!”

“See?” Quinn says with a smirk, gesturing to his niece. “Freya’s got you covered.”

Ainsley rolls her eyes but kisses the top of Freya’s head with a tender smile. “Thanks, sweetheart. At least someone in this house loves me.”

Freya giggles and leans up to give her mom a huge sloppy kiss on the cheek. Before Quinn can make another smart comment, the doorbell rings.

Ainsley glances at Quinn, frowning. “Are you expecting anyone?”

“Nope,” Quinn says, shoving another chip into his mouth, his brows furrowed in confusion and concern.

Sighing, Ainsley shifts Freya onto her other hip and opens the door. A delivery man is standing there with a white box tied with a bright red ribbon.

“Ms. Hughes?” he asks, consulting the clipboard in his hand. His chest is lifting heavily probably from the amount of time he spent in the elevator to get to their floor.

“That’s me,” she says slowly.

“This is for you. Happy Valentine’s Day,” the man says before handing over the box and heading back to the elevator

Ainsley wants to shout at him but it is too late. The doors of the elevator are already closing after him. She shuts the door, staring down at the box in confusion.

“What is it?” Quinn asks, sitting up on the couch now, his curiosity clearly piqued.

“I have no idea,” Ainsley mutters, setting the box on the counter and waiting for Quinn to join them.

Freya is taken into Quinn’s arms, her little hands reaching eagerly for the ribbon. “Open it, Mommy?”

“Hold on,” Ainsley says, her fingers trembling slightly as she pulls the ribbon loose. Lifting the lid, she freezes. Inside is a heart-shaped cake, beautifully decorated with pink frosting. The words Happy Valentine’s Day, Ainsley, and Freya are written in elegant script across the top.

Quinn let out a low whistle, leaning over her shoulder. “Looks like someone’s got an admirer.”

Ainsley shoots him a sharp look, her cheeks heating. “It’s probably just…” She trails off, unable to come up with a reasonable explanation. Because actually, she has none.

“Maybe Jacky and Luke sent it?” she tries, but she knows if it were her younger brother’s they would do something crazier, and by the look Quinn gives her, she only confirms it.

Freya bounces on her uncle’s hip, pointing at the cake. “Can eat? Pleeease?”

Ainsley ignores her brother’s knowing smirk as she reaches for her phone, already suspecting who the sender might be instead of her brothers. She taps out a quick message.

Ainsley - Did you send us a cake?

Her phone buzzes almost immediately.

Nico - Maybe. Do you like it?

Quinn is peering over her shoulder now, reading the message with a grin. “Nico?” he asks, far too amused for her liking. Not that Quinn likes the idea of Nico sending his twin cake but he can’t say it isn’t a nice gesture.

“Shut up,” Ainsley mumbles, but her lips betray her with the tiniest hint of a smile.

Freya tugs on Ainsley’s sleeve, her eyes locked on the cake. “Can eat now, Mommy?”

“Hold on,” Ainsley says, shooting Quinn a warning look as he snickers. “Go wash your hands first, Freya.” Quinn carefully puts her down ruffling her hair.

Freya huffs but obeys, scurrying off to the bathroom. The moment she is out of earshot, Ainsley turns to Quinn. “Don’t start.”

“Oh, I’m starting.” Quinn leans back against the counter, arms crossed. “The guy’s in New Jersey, and he’s still out here sending Valentine’s cakes? That’s some dedication for someone you’ve only met twice.” Even though he’s making fun of it he’s not keen on this idea of Nico’s.

“It’s not like that,” Ainsley says quickly, though the warmth creeping up her neck betrays her. “He’s just… being nice.”

Quinn smirks. “Sure. Because it’s totally normal for a guy to ship a personalized cake to someone he’s just being nice to.”

Ainsley groans and turns her attention back to her phone. She taps out another message.

Ainsley - Freya is very excited, by the way. Ainsley - Thank you, you didn’t have to do that.

His response comes almost instantly.

Nico - I wanted to. She’s a great kid. Nico - And you deserve something nice today too.

Ainsley stares at the screen, her heart doing an annoying little flutter. She is so distracted that she doesn’t notice Freya returning, her hands still a bit damp from washing.

“Mommy, show Nico card now?” Freya asks, holding up the bright pink paper covered in glitter and heart stickers.

Quinn snorts. “This is gold.” But the thing does something to his heart. Seeing his niece being this comfortable around a guy she met only twice makes him a little uncomfortable.

Ainsley shoots him another glare. “Freya, honey, Nico’s in New Jersey. We can’t exactly hand-deliver your card.”

Freya’s face falls for a moment before she brightens up. “Show him on phone!”

Before Ainsley can argue, Freya climbs onto the chair next to her, holding the card up toward the phone camera. “Look, Mommy! Picture for Nico!”

Quinn, who is utterly useless, bursts into laughter. “You’re doomed.”

Ainsley sighs but can’t bring herself to say no to Freya’s excited smile. She snaps a picture of the card and sends it to Nico with a quick caption:

Ainsley - Freya insisted you see her Valentine’s masterpiece. Ainsley - Prepare for glitter.

Nico doesn’t waste any second and replies almost immediately.

Nico - Tell Freya it’s perfect Nico - And it made my day. Nico - But now I feel bad I didn’t give her a card either.

Freya, who is watching over her mommy’s shoulder, furrows her brows.

“He likes it, Mommy?” she asks, completely confused about all the words on the screen.

“Yeah baby he does,” she ruffles her hair with a soft smile. Seeing her daughter this happy makes her happy.

“He likes it! Uncle Quinn, you hear? Nico likes card!”

Quinn ruffles her hair with a grin. “I heard, kiddo. Looks like you’ve got a fan.”

Ainsley groans, burying her face in her hands. “You’re both impossible.”

But even as Quinn teases her and Freya bounces around the kitchen, Ainsley can’t help sneaking another glance at her phone.

Ainsley - Thanks again

She types, hesitating for a moment before adding, Ainsley - You didn’t just make Freya’s day. You made mine too.

The response is simple, but it makes her heart skip.

Nico - Good. That’s all I wanted.

It isn’t much, just a few words, but Nico can picture Ainsley reading them, maybe rolling her eyes, maybe smiling without meaning to. He doesn’t know her that well yet, but he knows enough to guess she probably isn’t used to someone making an effort for her.

Freya, though—Freya makes it easy.

His phone buzzes again, and when he glances at the screen, another picture of the glitter-covered Valentine’s card stares back at him. It is crooked, the stickers are placed haphazardly, and the words To Nico! are written in Freya’s wobbly, oversized letters.

He huffs out a quiet laugh. She made him a Valentine’s card. A fucking Valentine’s card.

And now he kind of wishes he had thought to make one too. Even though it is a childish thing.

Shaking his head, he runs a hand through his hair and opens his camera roll. He scrolls until he finds what he is looking for—a picture from last week, snapped on a whim. It is a shot of the Hudson River at sunset, the water painted in streaks of pink and orange, a few buildings silhouetting in the distance. He took it while he was walking home from dinner, not really thinking much of it at the time.

Now, though, it feels like the right thing to send.

Nico - Tell Freya I owe her a Valentine next year. Nico - But for now, this is for you both. Nico - Since you made my day too.

He attaches the photo and hits send.

It isn’t a cake, which they already have. It isn’t a stuffed animal or something Freya can hold in her tiny hands. But maybe, just maybe, it is enough to remind Ainsley that he is thinking about them—even from thousands of miles away.

His phone buzzes again a few seconds later.

Ainsley - Freya says, ‘Ooooh, so pretty!’ Ainsley - And thank you. It’s beautiful.

A slow warmth spreads through Nico’s chest. He doesn’t know exactly what he is doing, or where this is going, but he knows one thing for sure.

He isn’t just thinking about them today.

He thinks about them every damn day.

Quinn - You knew about Nico’s Valentine’s surprise?

Quinn doesn’t have to wait long for a response, considering in New Jersey, is nine pm and Jack is phone addicted.

Jacky boy – What surprise? Jacky boy – Luke doesn’t know too.

Quinn sighs at that and shakes his head. Jack is not as sly as he thinks he is. Of course, he knows about this and so does Luke.

Quinnifer – Jack Rowden Hughes, you knew! Quinnifer – You little piece of shit!! Quinnifer – Why the hell you did not tell me?

On the other side of America, Jack is lying on a couch with Luke, both laughing at their angry older brother. They had known for about two months now that Nico id planning something to surprise Ainsley, they even helped him.

They knew if they told Quinn, he would fly out of his skin. He is sometimes too overprotective of Ainsley. Not that Jack and Luke aren’t, hell they didn’t like the idea of Nico having a crush on her, but they know him, and they trust him.

And Nico knows he can’t fuck up. He is kind of scared of Quinn when it comes to Ainsley. He heard how he is when it comes to his twin sister.

Jack just shakes his head at the overprotectiveness and types out a quite long response.

Jack boy – Because you are acting like a fucking psycho when it comes to sis.

As soon as he sends it, his phone rings and his brother’s face pops on the screen. Jack groans annoyed which makes Luke look over at him. Luke's eyes roll back when they see Quinn’s face.

“Pick it. You know he won’t stop.”

“Hello there, my dear brother!” Jack says with a cheesy smile.

“What the hell?” Quinn whisper-yells, looking around himself to make sure Ainsley isn’t nearby. “I swear to Stanley Cup if you helped him-”

“Okay, Q. Shut it! We didn’t like the idea from the beginning, but hey, Nico isn’t like the asshole.” Luke says annoyed by his brother’s overprotectiveness.

“Yeah, I know. It was kinda nice of him. You should see Freya; she even made him a fucking card,” He shakes his head pinching the bridge of his nose. “But I don’t like the idea of some man being like this after he met her only two times.”

“That is really nice of her,” Jack says his heart melting over his favorite niece. Before he can say anything else his sister’s voice startles him.

“Quinn! Are you serious?” Ainsley’s head pops on the screen, her eyes full of disbelief. “You are way too overprotective. And you two, thank you for helping him. It was nice of him and you.”

“You are welcome, gorgeous.” Luke winks at her, a blush coating her cheeks.

“Anyway, I and Freya are going to call Nico to thank him. And you, young man,” she looks at Quinn with furrowed brows. “Stop it!” with that she angrily walks out of the room, leaving her three brothers alone.

Annoyed by Quinn’s overprotectiveness she walks inside her room, where is Freya impatiently waiting for her mom so they can finally call Nico.

“Mommy, call!” she shrieks and makes a grabby hand at her mom.

“Minute baby! Mommy has to change her clothes first,” she says while she stands in front of the wardrobe, thinking about what she should wear.

“Mommy!” Freya whines kicking her legs as she lays on her back.

“Okay! Mommy doesn’t need to change.”

She doesn’t even know why she thought about changing, it isn’t like she needs to look good in front of Nico.

As she sits down, Freya climbs on her lap, her tiny hands reaching for the phone she is holding in front of them.

“What do we say when Nico pics up baby?”

“Hello, Nico!” Freya giggles as she watches her mom click on Nico's contact and FaceTime him.

It takes a few seconds before Nico’s face pops on the screen and Freya giggles from excitement.

“Grizzly!” she shrieks, her face being the only thing Nico can see.

“Freya!” Ainsley gasps in disbelief, while Nico only laughs at the nickname. She takes the phone from her daughter’s hands and rests it against the pillow so both of them can be seen. She grabs Freya’s shirt when she almost falls face straight down on the bed and sits her on her lap. “We don’t say things like-”

“Hey, it’s okay,” Ainsley is interrupted by Nico’s laughter. “I kinda look like one.”

“You like card?” Freya asks, crawling from Ainsley’s lap closer to the phone, this time her nose and eyes taking over Nico’s screen.

“I love it,” he smiles when he hears the sweet giggles coming from her small mouth. “Freya, would you mind moving back a little bit so I can see your mommy?” he asks, grinning when Freya nods her head and moves back on Ainsley’s lap. Ainsley soothes the hair from her daughter’s face away, her cheeks turning a light shade of pink.

“You should see her face when I picked her up from preschool and she told me she has a surprise for you.” Ainsley giggles, her eyes not leaving Freya whose attention is now on her stuffed bunny.

“I can imagine that.”

“Anyway, thank you again for the cake. It was delicious, right Fre?” she nudges her shoulder to get her attention.

“Yes, yummy.” Even though she answers, her attention does not leave the bunny for a second.

“Well, I am glad you liked it. But the credits go to Jack and Luke.” He says shyly, scratching the back of his neck.

“Yeah, I know,” she giggles, sitting more comfortably. The conversation between her and Nico takes another hour or so before she excuses herself that she needs to batch Freya and feed her.

It is when she’s just sitting on the couch that Quinn comes to her with chocolate in his hand and a nervous smile on his lips.

“I am sorry sis. I know I was acting like an asshole, but you have to understa-” he rambles out, standing in front of her.

“I do Quinny. It’s just annoying how overprotective you are.” She sighs, snatching the chocolate from his hands. A giggle leaves her mouth when Quinn jumps on her, tickling her sides.

“Stop it!” she giggles, squirming under Quinn’s body. “Quinifer!”

“Okay, okay.” He says between laughs, rolling down from her.

“You know she called him a Grizzly?” she says after a while, her fingers playing with the hem of her shirt.

“Really?” he chuckles, pride swirling through his chest. “Well, he kind of looks like one.” Ainsley glares at him, but the playful smirk on his lips softens her and she smiles.

But he is handsome Grizzly.

[goldfades]

the same person ─── luka dončić⁷⁷ (crash out couple)

free palestine carrd 🇵🇸 decolonize palestine site 🇵🇸 how you can help palestine | FREE PALESTINE!

⟢ ┈ 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 | 1.3k

⟢ ┈ 𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲 | valentine's day w/ ur fav crashout's!

⟢ ┈ 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 | some banter, bad cook luka, other than it's just fluff!

You wake up to the smell of something burning.

Not exactly the most romantic start to Valentine’s Day, but at this point, you know exactly what’s happening.

Luka’s in the kitchen.

Which means your kitchen is currently a war zone.

You sigh, stretching out against the warm sheets before dragging yourself up. The bedroom door is already cracked open, and you can hear him moving around—heavy footsteps, cabinet doors swinging open, the occasional muttered curse in Slovenian.

You step out, barefoot, tugging on Luka’s sweatshirt from last night, and immediately stop at the sight in front of you.

Luka stands in front of the stove, concentrated as hell, with a spatula in hand and an extremely questionable pancake situation unfolding on the skillet.

The first thing you notice? The heart-shaped pancake mold he’s trying so hard to use.

The second thing? The already burnt attempts sitting on a plate to the side.

You bite back a laugh, leaning against the counter, watching as he very delicately tries to flip the batter.

“How’s it going, chef?” you tease.

Luka jumps, nearly drops the spatula, and then whips around to see you standing there. He looks—guilty, like he got caught doing something illegal, and then a little sheepish as he glances back at his pancake disaster.

“I wanted to make you breakfast,” he mutters, rubbing a hand over his face.

You grin, stepping closer, peeking over his shoulder. “And instead, you made… this.”

“Hey.” He shoots you a look, reaching behind to pinch your hip. “I tried.”

You laugh, wrapping your arms around his waist from behind, pressing your cheek against his back. “I love that you tried.”

He exhales, dropping the spatula, and turns in your arms, wrapping you up in a hug. “I was gonna bring it to you in bed.”

You hum, grinning against his chest. “And if I took one bite, you’d have to carry me to the hospital.”

Luka groans, nudging his face into your neck. “You are so annoying.”

“But you love me.”

“Unfortunately.”

The thing about Luka is that he’s not really an over-the-top, grand-gesture type of guy.

He’s more quiet in his affection. More about being there, making sure you have what you need, showing up in all the little ways that make it so easy to love him.

But Valentine’s Day? He tries.

And this year?

This year, he planned.

You don’t even realize what’s happening until you’re already in the car, sitting in the passenger seat while Luka drives you out toward the coast, one hand resting on your thigh, the other gripping the wheel.

“Are you gonna tell me where we’re going?” you ask, glancing at him.

He just smirks, shaking his head. “Nope.”

You squint. “So you do have something planned?”

“I always have something planned.”

You snort. “That is such a lie.”

Luka laughs, squeezing your leg. “Just wait.”

You should have known he’d pull some shit like this.

Because an hour later, you’re sitting on a private beach, tucked away under a sunshade, waves rolling lazily in front of you, a whole setup in place—blankets, pillows, a small table with your favorite food, and Luka sitting beside you, looking very pleased with himself.

“You really did this?” you ask, still in awe.

Luka, leaning back on his hands, grins. “I did this.”

You shake your head, biting your lip to stop the stupid smile from spreading across your face. “Wow. My man’s a romantic now.”

“I always have been,” he says, nudging you with his knee.

You raise a brow. “Oh, really?”

“Yeah.” He smirks, reaching out, brushing his fingers along your jaw. “Why do you think I got you in the first place?”

You roll your eyes, but your face is warm—because he’s right.

Luka pulls you in, settling you between his legs, wrapping his arms around your waist as you both sit there, watching the waves, just existing in the moment.

It’s peaceful. Warm. Easy.

And with Luka? It always is.

By the time dinner rolls around, you and Luka have fully settled into your usual back-and-forth rhythm—the kind of banter that could make people at the next table think y’all have been married for decades.

“Are you seriously still talking about the pancakes?” Luka groans, shaking his head as he cuts into his steak.

“Yes, because you tried to poison me this morning,” you say, pointing at him with your fork.

“It was one burnt pancake—”

“It was all of them, Luka.”

He exhales through his nose, taking a sip of his wine like he needs the strength to deal with you. “You’re so dramatic.”

“You set off the smoke detector.”

“You’re welcome,” he deadpans.

You blink. “For what?”

“For making sure it works.”

You stare at him. “You are so lucky you’re cute.”

He smirks, reaching over to steal a piece of your food off your plate. “I know.”

You slap his hand away, but it’s too late. Luka grins, popping it into his mouth and leaning back in his chair, looking very smug.

“You literally have your own meal,” you say, exasperated.

“Yours tastes better.”

You glare. “Because you stole it.”

He just shrugs, sipping his wine again like the menace he is.

Your teammates—who were definitely listening in—are dying at this whole conversation, especially when Luka, with zero shame, tries to steal another bite.

“Oh my god,” you groan, holding your plate away from him.

“I just wanna try it,” he says.

“You already did.”

“But—”

“You have your own food.”

“But—”

“Luka.”

Sabrina chokes on her drink, trying so hard not to laugh at you two literally bickering like an old married couple.

Luka, though? He’s so entertained.

He leans in, propping his chin on his hand, watching you with that boyish, shit-eating grin that he knows drives you insane. “You like arguing with me, don’t you?”

You huff, shaking your head. “I’d like to get through a meal without having to defend my plate.”

He laughs, full and unbothered. “Too bad.”

You roll your eyes, about to say something else, when you notice him subtly reach for something in his pocket.

Then—he places a small, velvet box in front of you.

Your breath hitches.

“…Luka?”

His grin softens. “Open it.”

You glance at him, then at the box, then back at him—before carefully picking it up and flipping it open.

Inside?

A diamond necklace with your jersey number in delicate, sparkling detail.

You gasp, eyes going wide. “Luka—”

He tilts his head, watching you closely, waiting for your reaction.

You stare at the necklace, your heart doing something stupid in your chest, and then you press your lips together, exhaling sharply through your nose.

Because you can’t believe this.

Because—

You reach into your own bag and pull out a matching box.

Luka blinks. “Wait—”

You slide it across the table.

He picks it up, already shaking his head. “No way.”

“Open it.”

He does.

Inside?

The same exact necklace—except with his jersey number.

A beat of silence.

Then—

You both burst into laughter.

“Are you serious?” Luka wheezes, holding the box like he can’t believe it.

You shake your head, grinning so hard your cheeks hurt. “We’re literally morphing into the same person.”

Luka leans forward, shaking his head with a huge smile. “This is actually insane.”

“You are insane.”

“You are,” he shoots back.

You just laugh, reaching over to grab his face with both hands, pressing a kiss to his lips. He hums against your mouth, smiling, hands sliding around your waist to tug you closer.

When you pull back, Luka’s still grinning, eyes soft as he looks at you.

“I love you,” he murmurs.

You run your thumb over his cheek, still holding his face. “Yeah, I know.”

He laughs, shaking his head before kissing you again.

And honestly?

This might just be the best Valentine’s Day yet.

[captain-bubble-wrap]

Treating Quinn to Valentine's Day instead. 🥰🍓🎁🥂

Quinn was due at your apartment any minute now.

You had sort of lied to him when you told him you didn't want to go out, just so you could surprise him with something when he came over to spend the evening with you. "No gifts, no flowers, no dinner date," that's what you had told Quinn. Little did he know, you were going to give him all of those things when he finally got there.

There were balloons all over the living room ceiling, candles going, and the lights were down low. You had made it a point to wear his favourite little black dress and that Chanel perfume that always drove him crazy. The only thing that worried you, was that he was going to feel guilty about you having gone all out on him, while likely he did nothing for you. But, that had been the whole point of the surprise.

You retouched your lipstick while you impatiently waited for him to knock at your door. Knowing Quinn, he was going to be late, just hopefully it wouldn't been too long, or dinner was going to be ruined.

Your heart was racing as the nervousness of having to surprise him weighed on you. You weren't good with those sorts of things, and you couldn't help but feel like you were also forgetting something. Dinner was in the oven, everything was set out that needed to be, your outfit and makeup were perfect -- you just needed Quinn.

You almost didn't hear his soft knocking from where you were in your bedroom. Quickly, you ran to the door and settled yourself before opening it. "It's just Quinn," you reminded yourself. "It's just Quinn."

Without making him have to knock a second time, you flipped the lock and pulled it open, "Happy Valentine's Day, baby!"

Quinn was speechless.

He stood there just looking at you like he had won the lottery. The dumb side-ways grin on his lips betrayed his normal poker face. You looked beautiful, even if he couldn't say it immediately.

"Oh, wow," he stumbled. "You-- you're beautiful."

You'd have to step towards him to get your kiss; his feet seemed to have forgotten how to function. "It's good to see you!"

He just giggled, "Yeah, you, too."

"Well, come in, silly! I didn't invite you over just to stand in the hallway!"

Quinn's hands found your body immediately, holding your face to keep you from walking any further away from him. "I love you."

He never failed to take your breath away --to sweep you off your feet-- and the fact that you got to call him yours almost didn't feel real. "I love you, too, Quinn."

"So," he said, forcing himself to break the contact between the two of you. "You said you didn't want anything, yet you went all out on me? Why?"

Laying your arms over his shoulders, you smiled before giving your answer, "Because I think you deserve it! This stupid holiday makes men believe they have to do everything for their partner, and I don't think it's right! Guys deserve dinner, and flowers too!"

"You...got me flowers?"

You were beaming, getting to tell him about the cliche gift that you were so proud of. "I did!"

Quinn laughed, "I've never been given flowers before, thanks baby. You told me not to get you anything, so I didn't, but now I feel bad."

"Nope, don't be! You spoil me all the time; this is all for you!"

His hands trailed from your face, across the curves of your body until they found exactly where they wanted to settle. "I so don't deserve you."

"I haven't even gotten to the best part of tonight," you teased, running your fingers through his hair.

The smirk Quinn flashed had your heart racing as he backed you further into your apartment. The click of the door closing almost echoed. "Oh, so there's more? Do tell!"

[delulustateofmind]

TW: Yandere Behaviors, Dubcon, Anal, Toys, Gaping, Squirting, Overstimulation. MDNI

Yan!Nanami x Reader thoughts...

Nanami has a thing for anal. Of course, he’d rather be buried deep inside your cunt, feeling your soft, squishy walls clench around him, watching the heat rise to your cheeks as you gaze up at him, all flushed and perfect. But… he also enjoys making his trapped bride make the decisions.

That’s why there’s a clipboard hanging in the kitchen - Adventures for Newlyweds, a neatly organized list of activities. You get to pick, of course. One by one, you cross off options, whittling it down until only the ones you’d rather not deal with remain. And when your hand hesitates, your mind swirling with what’s left, that’s when he moves. Strong arms wrapping around your waist, his breath warm against your ear, lips tracing down the column of your neck.

“Go on, sweet girl. You still have choices.”

Because choice has always been his thing. From his lists, his carefully curated options. He’d never take that away from you.

You definitely weren’t going to do double penetration, not after what you saw in the toy box. The other length sitting in the leather box almost an exact replica of his, just as intimidating, and if he thought he was putting that inside you at the same time—nope. It’d be a big stretch, something he murmured in your ear with that smooth, reassuring tone, "I'd prepare you for it, don't worry." Yeah, you weren't worried about that. He would. The problem is, he'd enjoy it a little too much.

So, when your eyes landed on butt plug on the list, it seemed like the lesser evil. What’s the harm in that? A little plug. Something small, manageable—right?

Yeah, no. Those words definitely bit you in the ass, literally, when you finally saw the metal thing he had in mind. You stared at him, then at the toy, before meeting his lovesick gaze.

"Do you want me to—"

"No... I can do it."

"Do you need help?" His voice was patient, affectionate. "I'm just worried you’ll hurt yourself, honey."

So, off to the bathroom you went. A deep breath. A generous amount of lube. A hesitant finger easing the way. But the process dragged on and on, and after an hour, you heard his long sigh from the other side of the door, followed by another gentle knock.

Because he would help. He’d spend hours preparing you if that’s what you wanted. All day, even. But finally, with a breathless gasp, the toy settled into place, stretching and filling you just as intended. The initial burn slowly faded, replaced by a deep, full sensation that had you looking up at him with flushed cheeks.

That embarrassment? Nanami loved it.

It was always the same - your soft, wide-eyed uncertainty, the way your body hesitated before melting into his touch. It made him smile, made him soothe you with gentle kisses, whispering away your nerves as he eased you into anything he saw fit.

And tonight was no different.

He guided you to the bed, slow and strady, worshipping every inch of your skin as he pressed you into the sheets. And when he finally sank inside you, stretching you completely, he groaned against your ear, "You feel so much better like this, don't you?"

Your hands clenched the sheets, body overwhelmed, and just when you thought you had adjusted, he pressed on the plug.

A sharp, involuntary gasp. Your walls fluttered around him, and he chuckled, so pleased with himself. Every time it threatened to slip out, he pushed it back in, murmuring how good you were, how perfect you felt - how he wasn't letting you go anywhere.

Not when he was finally about to finish, not when the sheets were already wet with your tears, your voice breaking as you blubbered that you were too full, that you couldn’t possibly cum again. But Nanami didn’t stop. His fingers never faltered, still working your overused nub, still dragging you through another wave of humiliating bliss that left you trembling, practically gushing, beneath him.

You see, Nanami also has a thing for over hydrating you. Keeping you nice and full of water so everytime you came, you can expect another bottle of water at your lips so your poor cunny can squirt on his cock all over again.

Only when he had wrung every last shudder from your body did he finally pull himself from your soaked plush walls with a sharp hiss. For a brief moment, you thought he might be a little adventurous, that he’d paint your back with his release, leave you marked just the way he liked.

But no.

Instead, he reached between your trembling thighs, fingers curling around the base of the plug still nestled deep inside you. He pulled it out as gently as he could, but even then, your body twitched, and that’s when you heard it. A sharp, surprised gasp - his voice, breath hitching in open admiration.

Because oh.

You also noticed something just then.

He had a thing for gaping.

His fingers traced the edges of your stretched, trembling hole, his eyes dark with something insatiable. And then, just as your hazy mind was catching up—just as you were starting to realize what had him so entranced—you felt it. The warm, thick traces of cum leaking into that gaping hole.

"Tsk," he murmured, almost to himself, watching as his cum disappeared into your spent body. "Can’t let any of it go to waste, can we?"

And his fingers? They were right there, pressing the slick mess back inside.

After that? You noticed the butt plug remained on the list and how he'd guide your hand to point at it once more before whisking you away to the bedroom.

[taleya15]

"Just friends"

*Ring*

*Ring*

*Ring *

"Nothing. Again. Great." Mike sighed against the wall of his basement. He hates when Joyce is working, which is constantly now. He rings up Dustin to complain. Because Lucas is at basketball practice like always. So Dustin is all Mike has now. It's weird because Will used to be the person Mike would go to so he can complain and rant to. Now Will's mom is the reason he complains. Dustin is quick to answer like always, and for a moment Mike feels grateful.

"No answer?"

"Nope. Nothing. I'll try again in an hour, but for now! What the actual fuck dude! I hate Joyce's job! It's so stupid that I basically have to schedule a meeting with my best friend!"

"I know. I know man. I'm sorry."

Mike sighs out but doesn't say anything for a moment.

"Thanks for trying though man."

"Of course man. But hey listen I gotta go, my mom's calling me up. She wants a new cat."

"Oh. Haha have fun."

"I won't. See ya man."

"See ya!" With the sound of the hanging up beep, Mike sighs again and walks to the couch. He plops down dramatically and starts thinking. He hates this so much. All he wants to do is at least talk to Will. The only thing that can calm him down in a bad mood is Will. El helps when she can, but Will is the only one who can fix it completely.

He hates that too. He hates that the only person who can calm him down is the person he can never reach. He hates that he can't go to his girlfriend about this. She could only understand and help so much. But Will.. he understands everything Mike says. Sometimes Mike wishes Will was a girl. Then maybe it'd be easier, but he loves El. At least he thinks he does anyway. Eventually he realizes the time and realizes the full hour has passed. An hour of self loathing and anxiety. Great another one.

Mike gets up again and goes to the phone. He almost doesn't pick it up. He almost just leaves it alone and goes to sulk for the night. It wouldn’t be the first time. But something in him tells him to try again. Maybe it's his stubbornness, or his desire to talk to Will that does it. But he picks the phone up anyway and while he puts the number in he gets a weird rush of Deja Vu. But he pushes on and listens to ring of the phone. It's five rings later and he almost hangs up. But then there’s a different sound, a pause then the sound of the phones connecting.

"Hello, Byers residents. Joyce speaking."

"Oh! Joyce hey!"

"Mike? Oh hi hun! Haven't heard from you in a while! What's going on? How's school going?"

"Uh. Yeah school's great thanks."

"Right! Silly me! You're calling for Will aren't you?"

"Haha yes ma'am I am. Is he there?"

"Yes! I'll put him on now!"

There's a muffled sound of Joyce's voice then there's something different that happens.

"Uh hello?" Will answers the phone seemingly confused. His voice seems deeper, like three octaves deeper. It surprises Mike for a moment, but he pushes past his initial thoughts and speaks to him. Finally.

"Will!"

"Mike! Hey man! How- how are you? I haven't heard from you in a while."

"Yeah. Yeah I know sorry man." I tried calling you, like every day. But that sentence dies in his throat. He wouldn't dare say that out loud. He'll sound like a wimp.

"That-that's ok! How's it going?"

"Um. It- it's fine thanks. How um how is it for you?"

“... good. Are you sure you're ok? You can tell me." Great. He saw right through it like aways.

"I- I just honestly had a terrible day today." He sighs uncomfortably he really doesn't want to elaborate. But he knows he has to.

"Oh I'm sorry what happened?" Mike sighs again and thinks of something to say. He can't say the real reason why. He can barely admit to himself the real reason.

"Oh. Um I got a bad grade on my exam today." That actually was true, he did get a really bad grade on an exam today in math. But he honestly didn't care about that. He couldn't care less about it, but it was the only thing he could think to say.

"Oh man! I'm sorry I understand, is there anything I can do to help you?"

"I- I don't know right now."

"Well I can distract you."

"That sounds great actually."

For the next ten minutes Will talks about anything that he can think of. Mike mostly listens, but he loves the conversation. He feels at ease for the first time all day. And for a moment, a single moment he wishes he could tell Will what he's desperately wanting to tell him. He's dying to confess to him, to say 'Will, I'm so desperately in love with you. I wish I could be with you, I don't care about El. She's nothing to me, because I can't have you.’ But instead he just listens and reminds himself that they're "just friends". And Mike would never dare ask Will his feelings either.

Because he's convinced that Will's straight, but is he?

[averagemoxxiestan]

Readers Valentine Spree

Valentine’s Day special❤️‼️ YEAUH

Reader is gender neutral until specified otherwise (warning: I’m indulging in my headcanons in this and I switch between They/Them and You/Yours pronouns for Reader/You.)

Reader was in their room and was lying down in bed, bundled up in a blanket like a burrito, they had to use the bathroom but didn’t want to get out of bed but they knew they had to or else they’d piss the bed. They’ve been feeling sluggish for two weeks now and have been bed rotting ever since, they rolled until they fell off of their bed and stayed on the floor for a few seconds before unwrapping themselves from their blanket and standing up to walk to the bathroom.

They looked at their calendar filled with their favorite fictional characters and get ready to cross out the previous day, you grab the marker and cross the previous day out and then their eyes caught something

‘Valentine’s Day’

…

Oh my fucking god it’s almost Valentine’s Day.

They had to give gifts to their friends.

A sudden surge of energy thrives in them and they immediately become aware of their smelly and messy self, they quickly run into the bathroom and go through everything to refresh themselves.

Using the bathroom, brushing their teeth, taking a shower and washing their hair, taking their medication, and then finally putting on some clothes.

They get their wallet and phone before walking out of their room and passing by their mom, who was in the kitchen making breakfast

“Bye mom, gotta go!” They quickly said before opening the front door and exiting the house, closing the door behind them, not being able to see the shocked and confused expression of their mom

Reader was speed walking through the street, they loved holidays and loved celebrating them so just the bare mention of Valentine’s Day approaching was enough to immediately drag them out of their depressive state for a while, they looked up and find themselves in front of Dollar Tree.

They browse through the isles to get some baskets to place gifts in, they did get distracted a little bit which made the trip take a bit longer than expected but they found some baskets, now it’s time for the gifts.

First up is IronJaw

You liked the guy, he had a good fashion sense and has good taste in music but he spits a lot, which is a problem. You thrifted a couple of cassette tapes and decided to record some hip-hop songs on the tapes for him so he can listen to his favorite artists, you also wrote a list of helpful tips to help him stop spitting everything, and got his favorite snacks (gum and Hot Cheetos.) you place all the gifts into the basket and ran to IronJaw’s house.

IronJaw was in sitting near his desk while writing lyrics for a song he was making but then yelped when he heard something hit his window, he got up and opened the window and looked down to yell at the bastard that threw something at his window only to see you.

“What are you doing here, need to borrow my headphones again?” IronJaw asked with playful annoyance “nope! I have a gift for you” you responded as you lift up the gift basket with a smile, IronJaw then focused his attention on the gift basket with interest and suspicion “why?” “It’s almost Valentine’s Day dumbass!” You yelled

IronJaw quickly took a look at his calendar and you were right, it was almost Valentine’s Day. “Oh” he muttered before looking back at you “send it up!” He held his arms out, ready to catch the basket. You carefully threw the basket into the air and sighed in relief when IronJaw caught it, you saw him take a quick look in the basket and smile

“You got me Cheetos” he said gleefully and you smiled back “yup, I know how much you love them! Even though it’s a rule that you can’t eat them” you teased him before quickly saying a goodbye “okay, got more presents to give, bye! Happy Valentine’s Day!” IronJaw waved to you as you ran away, when you were out of view he sighed softly as he blushes.

Next person, Ward Willoughby

You didn’t mind the little dude, he was annoying at times, sure, but he was really nice and had lots of knowledge about stuff. You bought some crocheting products and made a crocheted replica of Ward, you also added coloring pencils and a sketchbook.

You knocked on the door and rung the doorbell of Ward’s fancy house, you didn’t know how Ward’s parents had so much money and no one knew their jobs. You were snapped out of your thoughts when the door opened and Ward was in the doorway “[REDACTED], What are you doing here?” He asked before seeing the basket in your hand and smiling “is that for me?”

“It is! How’d you know?” You asked with a playful tone as you handed the gift basket to him, he quickly shuffled through the things in the basket before looking back at you “because you’re the only person I know that likes me enough to get me gifts”

You stared at him when those words came out of his mouth, you didn’t know what to say.

“Thank you” Ward said before shutting the door, you stood still for a moment before walking away

Poor guy.

Next up is Bill Dickey

He was your friend(sort of?) and didn’t really deserve a gift basket but if you skip a single person you’ll go all day thinking you forgot something, so you kind of have to.

You never really cared about his interests but you know he likes comics and sci-fi shit but he kept rewatching the same things over and over again, might as well get him something new, you grabbed a Invader Zim dvd case and put it in the basket.

You then put a pack of Twizzlers in the basket because you picked up on the fact he would have empty Twizzler wrappers in his room and a Rockstar energy drink because he wanted to try one but never got to.

Bill entered his room after arguing with his mom and saw a gift basket on his bed, he rolled his eyes and walked towards his bed before reading the note that was leaning against the gift basket

‘Hey Bill,

I know I’m probably the last person you want to get a gift from but I don’t care and wanted to wish you a Happy Valentine’s Day.

Love, [REDACTED]’

Bill’s heart skipped a beat but he ignored the warm fuzzy feeling inside him and crumbled the note up and threw it to the side, he looks inside the basket and immediately grabbed the Twizzlers and ripped them open before seeing the Invader Zim dvd “looks childish, do they think I’m some child or something?” Bill muttered, trying to ignore that small feeling of curiosity.

Next person is Josh Levy

You like when Josh talks to you about something because you know that he’s almost never mad about your opinion of stuff because you see it from his point of view and other’s point of view and don’t really choose sides.

You decided to make a custom cardboard cutout of Superman because you know he secretly has a crush on him, you then put a big bag of Bissli Onion chips into the basket because you thought he should try them. You were struggling to find something else he might like but then an idea hit you, free comic book coupons.

You were let into Josh’s house by his mother and was kind enough to get a glass of water for you as you waited for Josh to come downstairs, once he did he looked at you with confusion because seeing the gift basket and tall Superman cardboard cutout. “Is that a cardboard cutout of Superman?” he asked as he reached for the Onion chips “yeah because I know you have a crush on him!” You said with an innocent smile

“NO I DON’T-“

Next contestant is Pete Dinunzino

You never really liked Pete due to his loud self but he was a funny guy even if he was messed up in the head.

You were in a VHS store and was looking for some type of horror film to buy but you just couldn’t settle with one that’d match Pete’s messed up fantasies, you then got the idea to sneak into the back of the store and search for a few snuff films they haven’t put on the shelves yet.

You were back at home after buying some ingredients to make a batch of Frollino Con Cacao E Nocciole, (look it up I am not translating it for you ^3^) after numerous attempts and fails of underbaked and burnt goods, you made the perfect batch and placed them in a small bag full of hearts.

You were at Pete’s house and could hear a lot of people talking, you remember that he mentioned that he he was a big family, especially in the brother department. You knocked on the door and a second later some older guy (who you guessed was one of Pete’s older brothers) answered the door with a rude “What.”

You handed him the gift basket and a polite smile “Can you give this to Pete please? I wanted to give him something since it’s almost Valentine’s Day” you asked, Pete’s older brother took the basket and smirked, already planning to tease Pete about this “of course.” He replied before closing the door.

You stood there for a second because you felt like something bad is going to happen before shrugging that feeling off as anxiety

(Pete then jumped you the next day.)

Last person is Jerry Stokes

You tolerated Jerry the most out of that stupid Eltingville Club gang because he had minimal standards and would try to stop most fights even though he would sometimes join said fights but he’s okay (for now..)

You decided to draw Jerry in a fantasy setting, making him look cool and adding a simple ‘you’re cool ♡’ to finish the drawing off. You also got him a tech deck and a secret gift that you know he’ll like.

Jerry was sitting at his desk and was writing a script for his next DND session with his friends but then he heard a knock on his room door, he looks up and sees his mom in the doorway holding a gift basket “Hey sweetie, one of your friends came by and wanted me to give you this” she then put the gift basket on the desk before leaving with a quick ‘love you’.

Jerry saw the card on the basket and immediately smiled when he saw that the gift was from you, he reached inside and pulled out a drawing of him with armor and elf ears and he flaps his hands in happiness. He then reaches back into the basket, his eyes not leaving the drawing, he pulls out something that feels like a book and he shifts his gaze towards it, only to see a 18+ yaoi manga.

Jerry slowly put the drawing down ad stared at the cover of the manga before getting up and going towards his door to lock it, getting ready to read the manga.

Reader finally arrived home and plopped themselves down on the couch, the energy they had throughout the day was already drained and their social battery was at 5 percent. Their mom then went into the living room and sat next to Reader before putting on a show they both liked, Reader sat up and had their eyes glued to the tv.

Their mom gave them hot chocolate before they stayed on the couch together for a few minutes

You liked Valentine’s Day.

GREAT GOD I’M DONE!!!

Fact!: ‘your’ mom is inspired by my mom because my mom is cool 😼

Hey guyyyssss, hope you guys have a Valentine but if you don’t then that’s fine! Not everyone can have one and that’s okay, just try and treat yourself or spend time with your family for it!!!

Love you guys so muxhh

K bye mwah ^3^💋

[justiceiscalling]

i had a dream that reminded me of the show titans and oh my god am i glad that show ended. it was so fun for me who never touched a comic a day in her life (and then when i did my first comics were DCeased), but god did they do jason so dirty.

like why did every adult in his life hate him? kori, who was everyones maternal figure in this shit, literally said she was angry at jason for dying.

(Kori: "i'm so angry."

Superboy: "At the Joker?"

Kori: "No, at Jason."

Gar: "Jason? Why?"

Kori: "Because he never learned! Jason never evolved. He never grew past his own worst instincts. Don't let that happen to you." --Titans Season 3 Episode 2)

like i know she did NOT try to turn his death into a lesson for gar and conner???? like what the actual fuck man. he literally tried to kill himself the season prior and you guys offered him no help, just antagonized him and treated him like absolute shit.

like, yes bro was bratty but nobody even cared to ask why? or to talk to bruce about it, to try to train it out of him, to offer him fucking therapy (i'm very aware he'd say no to this but its the thought that counts). but nope. just, don't let that happen to you.

as if that wasn't gars friend?? as if jason and gar weren't close? conner and jason, yeah, sure, fine. he probably didn't grieve a lot over him, they barely knew each other. but jason and gar? they got along.

and then the writers turning him absolutely evil was an insane option but, fine. killing hank for no reason other than the fact that he can? killing dick grayson? okay, go big or go home i guess (completely ignore the fact that jason only killed those who 'deserved' it (committed pretty serious crimes)).

to make matters worse, they didn't even stick to evil jason! they had a shitty somewhat-redeption arc at the end of the season (where jason gives them the code) and then the next season tim becomes fucking robin and he's okay with it?? he's??? fine??? with??? it???

he trains tim. jason todd trains tim drake.

even in titans, when jason started out he fucking loved robin. he was so excited to run around with robin dick grayson. jason died in that suit. yes he was being reckless, yes it wasn't a good instinct to go after the joker alone. but he was inexperienced. if bruce wants to have teenagers running around in suits he needs to properly teach them what they're doing before he allows them to leave in the green tights.

jason wouldn't train tim. not to be a part of a team that almost drove him to commit suicide, not to parade around in the same colors he died in. he'd probably beat the shit out of tim for doing that because tim knows the gist of what happened to him and he still wants to wear the green panties.

and if not then he'd just leave him alone, he wouldn't train the little shit to go out and wear those colors. maybe advise him to be something else because robins tend to have a short life span (both him and dick died in this universe and were then revived).

so, yeah, jason todd was immensely flawed in titans (reminded me of damian wayne in a way, actually) but he did not--in no way--deserve that treatment from the people meant to be his friends/mentors (rachel, kori, dick, bruce), and the the way these people treated him CAUSED his evil character arc. yes, i will die on this hill.

and GOD, don't even get me started on how badly they fucked up tim's character.

[lynnie-s3all]

any forsaken killers and maybe chance with a reader thats like ignored perchance

Alright. I'm not gonna do Jason for obvious reasons. I kinda disliked him. So...

I'll try my best to make the most of the headcanons since I'm very much a lazy person to do all the requests. Like... i got eyebags on me.

Forsaken killers + Chance x reader who gets ignored most of the time.

Despite c00lkid trying to almost killing everyone in the whole team, he stumbled towards you who got left out most of the time, even your teammate's wouldn't want to work with you, especially with fixing the generators, and also never gives you a bloxy cola to outrun him.

Well... he accidentally does the walkspeed override so he can kill you instantly, but you dodged right away and he slammed himself right on the wall.

You were scared to even talk with him, even though he's just a small child who doesn't want any harm at you. He slowly approach you and asked why you weren't with the others.

"oh, sorry for that! I'm just wandering why aren't you with the others to play? Are you sad because they don't wanna play with you?"

you just stood there. And then you replied back to him.

"They don't really give me any attention towards me..."

He thought about an idea to try and help you, and he did. So he gave you one of his sword.

"Take revenge, you can join me play tag, I'll spare you this time."

Oh...

You grabbed his sword on his hand and and took your hand to go and swing at them to attack

Well your teammates... weren't happy when they looked at you trying to kill one of them.

He helped you through the whole run so... you just killed all of them.

A revenge. Yeah.

John Doe... Well it's not really special until he decided to do corrupt energy to trap everyone is seperate ways.

Uh..

He's... almost about to attack you by the way and you kinda just there at the corner terrified.

I know he doesn't have any remose on trying to kill a lot of the survivors and he just felt really bad when you're panicking so much because he trapped you in basically

Since he has the corruption on his own body, he couldn't get near you or you'll get hurt by it.

Well... Not so lucky enough that the whole part of your body gets even more corrupted and took control over you.

There's nothing you could do right...?

Thinking about it though... He thought about why you were just not helping the others. Well you, being helpless. You really couldn't do anything.

"It's okay. We'll teach them how it feels like to feel betrayed after leaving you like this. MAKE THEM PAY!!!"

Same thing. I'm not going to finish how you two killed all of the survivors.

Well king of hatred himself. He knows what betrayal means to him. And he will seek revenge to the one who caused him like this.

He saw you first and purposely attack you until almost getting very low on health.

Well, did he witness someone shooting and stunning him? Nope. They ignored him. And when he did analyze you, it made him felt... remose? guilty? But he was supposed to be filled with hatred, not sympathy.

Well, you took it up the notch and just tell him to kill you.

the truth is, he doesn't want you to die. Thinking about you being his allies to join him to take over and kill everyone, it would be perfect for him.

And so, he tries to say something.

"I don't think they really understand how much they made you to suffer like this. My apologies for hurting you. But I should handle it myself. I'm not going to kill you anyway. I know how it feels to be that way."

Oh yea i can't do chance in this one cuz the images i have are full.