#can we pray that i finish this for valentine’s day

[toytle]

i didn’t realize but my friend pointed out that i drew a heart in barry’s ear

even subconsciously, i can only see him thru heart eyes,,,

[ma1dita]

crazy little thing

a ‘partners in crime’ installment - luke castellan x dionysus!reader

words: 3.4k

summary: (pre-established relationship) The one where he spends all his drachmas to make you smile. Sometimes, the Apollo kids are better matchmakers than Aphrodite herself. Everyone’s tired of you two dancing around each other. Luke Castellan x fem!Dionysus!reader

a/n: lil valentines day special though im working on more est. relationship fluff after this!! happy season 2 renewal babies

(posted 2/9/24 unbetaed)

—

“Come on, you gotta admit—it’s kinda funny!” 

Luke is met with blank stares at the camp store after he places a few drachmas onto the folding table in front of the Apollo kids. They’re not sure if he’s trying to convince them, or himself.

Because yeah, that’s the excuse he goes for, wanting to spend his savings on having them sing to a certain head counselor instead of admitting his blatantly obvious feelings, so if you ask Lee Fletcher and his half-siblings, it’s kind of pathetic.

“What do we look like, a traveling mariachi band, Castellan?” he deadpans, watching the usually confident boy scratch the back of his neck with his face red like someone who’s been sitting out in the sun for too long. 

“I’m not saying to follow her around all day or whatever, just pick a random time to sing a song and catch her off-guard,” he insists, before meeting the judgmental look of one of Lee’s younger siblings.

Lee chuckles, ruffling his sister’s hair before looking at Luke quite seriously, “She’s a good friend. You’re gonna have to pay us more than that. Special song for a special lady after all.”

The son of Hermes knows he’s gonna regret this sooner or later, but proceeds to throw the rest of his meager earnings onto the table. He has other ways of being resourceful anyway, the box of chocolates he nicked from behind the store counter feeling heavy in his jacket pocket.

“Right… she’s just a friend.”

Luke’s hands fidget at his sides as he stands there, feeling a little stupid.

Lee’s little sister scoops up the coins from the table, her raised eyebrows and light aura mirroring that of her older brother. 

“What song were you thinking?” she asks, “Gotta make sure I know it if I’m singing it to your…friend.”

The 18-year-old boy tugs at his dark curls, getting more embarrassed and wanting to retreat with every minute that passes, but he’s never been one to back down from anything–swordfights, monsters, capture the flag, but this—trying to impress you...is a whole different story somehow.

Why are feelings so damn complicated? 

It feels like being at the butt of a joke, or more accurately—at the sharp edge of a sword, and Luke never lets his fights end in a draw.

“You guys got it covered. Just…surprise me too, I guess,” he sighs, walking off without finishing his sentence. He wishes he could pray a little harder to his dad for luck, even if he’s unsure of what exactly he’s wishing for (or if his dad will even listen).

“Castellan’s hopeless. You think he knows it yet?” the girl asks her brother, to which Lee laughs.

“I don’t think she does either, even though everyone else can see right through them. The new bets are on who’s gonna break first. Chiron’s been keeping track, but don’t tell Mr. D.”

If Luke wants a show, they’ll make sure he’ll get his money’s worth—and hopefully, it’ll push you two along faster. Lee bet on you two getting together before the summer after all, and he’ll be damned if he loses to Clarisse.

—

Valentine’s Day might be the day of love, but for you, someone who’s single (not by choice), and heavily busy with making sure people aren’t so…enamored in public (you’ve lost count of the reports you’ve written out due to indecent behavior this morning alone)---this just feels like another Wednesday, except with more hormonal teenagers with uncontrollable urges than usual. 

Oh, the joys of being the daughter of the camp director, also known as everyone’s favorite narc.

Honestly, love can suck it. With this much love in the air, you can feel it suffocating you like a plastic bag over your head. 

That’s an uncontrollable urge. Too much?

Maybe Silena was right, you do need to open yourself up more to romantic opportunities. But if you have to watch another person swap spit and get pawed at like they’re the last dinner roll at the table…. You might commit arson and set this place ablaze.

You just didn’t understand why people had to go all out today of all days. Shouldn’t love be shown year-round? Though you were a person of theatrics and enjoy a good show, it is amazing how much grandiose displays of affection make you cringe. It felt very performative, instead of genuine, and you would know, you’re the best actress at camp. You’ve acted out stories before, knowing all of the greatest romances and tragedies by heart. And you pride yourself on being a decent teacher to the campers, but for some of them, love still translates to a bad rendition of a ballad they heard on the radio.

Nothing gets past you at this point.

But that sucks too sometimes, you know?

Multiple failed flings and a heartbreak or two weigh down on you on days like this one, as you’re stuck being a bystander to outlandish displays put on by the Aphrodite kids being put to work. Love is their domain anyway, and yours…makes you feel a little less undesirable. Each demigod has their own strengths and weaknesses, but perhaps in the name of love, some of them don’t know how to take a hint. Several forgettable prose readings, a Sparknotes version of Eros and Psyche, and too many red roses to count have you reeling from exhaustion and a bit of disgust—-and it’s only lunchtime. 

So yeah, maybe you’re a little jealous; they could call you Nemesis at this point.

The only flowers you got today were from the little kids from along the path to the strawberry orchard, and though it’s sweet—the human side of you misses affection. 

Devotion. 

To be a daughter of Dionysus meant to deal in extremes, obsession or nothing, and there are very few people who can handle that. Always being too much to handle, or uninterested as a defense mechanism. Perhaps that’s what scares admirers away. 

That, or the fact that Luke Castellan is always attached to your hip. To be honest, you’ve always preferred it that way—the both of you working as a pair always gets things done faster around camp and he brightens your mood, whether you admit it or not. 

But you two are just friends. 

Really good friends who look for each other in crowded rooms, hands constantly brushing against the other for comfort, and able to pick up where the other one leaves off. Usually he’s the first person you see in the morning, and the last person you say goodnight to. You know how he likes his coffee and he cuts your apples for you as you two sit together in your unassigned seats in the dining pavilion. You watch each other’s workshops and if one of you is missing, everyone knows to ask the other to get an answer.

Right? That’s totally normal coworker/friend behavior.

If you were ever given immortality, perhaps they’d make you the goddess of denial.

You’re sweeping up confetti from the dining hall floor after an uncoordinated excuse of a flash mob was performed for one of the Demeter kids… and not to sound like a heinous bitch, but maybe next time they should use something biodegradable… or less messy. Sighing deeply, you feel someone’s eyes on you, and when you look up, Luke’s standing there with two full plates of food.

“Take a break, Trouble. No one’s paying you overtime,” he jokes, and you roll your eyes as you put the broom aside.

“No one’s paying me at all…” you groan, before taking the plate out of his hands and knocking your head against his shoulder in thanks. He snickers as his hand brushes the small of your back, tickling your spine as he leads you to sit at a table.

“Just another holiday. You know how it is.”

“It’d be nice to have a night off though. Sometimes I regret taking up the position,” you mumble through spoonfuls of soup. He throws his large hand over your shoulder, kneading some tension from your trapezius. Head jerking along with the movements, you giggle as soup dribbles off your spoon, which makes his lips quirk into a small smile. Being around you felt so thoughtless and easy that if you told him to jump off a bridge he’d do it without question, which should be more concerning—the hold you have on him is irrevocable. Feelings are way too difficult for his teenage brain to comprehend at this stage. It’s easier to wash dishes with lava or fight off a dragon (bad example, he knows, but there’s something about you that already makes him feel like he’s losing before anything’s even happened).

Luke is someone who fights until the end, a soldier who’s always trained and so ready for anything that sometimes it makes you wonder what war he’s preparing for. Infatuation, or the scarier, four-letter word was not something he was ever briefed on.

“No, you don’t. You’re a control freak,” he says with a grin. 

Luke watches you play with the pendant on your necklace, the dragon scale he fashioned into your favorite accessory glinting in your hand. Running your fingers back and forth over the smooth surface, your other hand puts the spoon down and you place your head on his shoulder. He thinks if he had to describe the four-letter word on the tip of his tongue, he’d tell whoever’s asking about the way you kissed his healing cheek after you both left the Garden of Hesperides. More than a year later, Luke is still unable to find the right words even if the weakness has made a home in his heart with your name written all over it.

“I swear if I have to hear another person croak out a lovesong I might just drown myself in the Long Island Sound,” you scoff as his fingers trace circles onto your waist.

There’s a low strum of a guitar that reaches your ears and your forehead meets the cool surface of the table as you shut your eyes and grumble. It’s Lee and his half-siblings, beginning to walk through the hall seconds away from singing until they see Luke shaking his head and dragging his finger across his throat to please, gods, stop. The Apollo kids swivel and 180, walking out of the hall as the music stops dissonantly, rolling their eyes and dragging their feet.

“That was quick,” you say inquisitively as your head pops up from the table to see Luke looking off in the distance.

“Heh… I think they were just practicing or something…”

He then had to run off and pay them more drachmas for the inconvenience. 

Fucking hustlers.

—

The sun sets quickly on Camp Half-Blood since it’s mid-February, and Luke finds you trying to calm your nerves as you look at the mess of glitter and paper mache that covers the arts and crafts hall from floor to ceiling.

“I can’t believe this!” you say in disbelief as you look at Luke, and he takes the can of Redbull out of your shaking hand.  

“There’s just no fucking way everyone decided to use glitter. It’s everywhere! I’m—CONNOR, PUT THE SCISSORS DOWN!”

Luke sighs as he holds his hand out for his younger brother to give up the craft scissors, which he relinquishes with a mischievous grin. 

“Guys, go find trouble somewhere else,” Luke mutters, pushing his head away, and where Connor goes, Travis quickly follows, tossing a canister of glitter back at him and not knowing it was still open.

“Oops.” 

Immediately, the both of you are showered in iridescent particles, floating over your heads and stuck in your hair as the older Stoll brother looks at the two of you wide-eyed.

“You've already got Trouble anyway,” he says teasingly, and this asshole winks at Luke before bolting out the door.

The room is silent now, and you pinch the bridge of your nose, before speaking, “I don’t care if he’s your brother, Luke. I might just fucking kill him.” You'd say more but your eyes are shut as you try not to breathe in glitter, and then the sound of the doorknob rattling catches your attention. Luke is standing there, finally faced with a door he can’t open, his eyebrows furrowed in annoyance–but the effect isn’t as menacing as it should be when he’s covered in red and pink sparkles.

“Not if I get to him first, the little bastard.”

“Just open the door,” you say panicked, running over and forcing his hands off the doorknob.

“I can’t if you won’t let me do it!” He grits, elbowing you and trying to unlock the door with both his inherited gift and brute strength.

“What kind of demigod even are you? Lockpicking is supposed to be your thing!”

“Well OBVIOUSLY, but it’s not working, now is it, Trouble?”

Luke finishes off the rest of your energy drink before throwing the can over his shoulder and he swears he can hear you cuss at him under your breath as you berate him about the mess, so he chooses to focus on busting the door down instead of looking at the glitter stuck in your eyelashes and thinking about how the idea of being stuck in a room with you makes him feel weak at the knees.

Through the window, his eyes meet the group of Apollo kids staring at the predicament you two are in (and the barricade of chairs the Stolls put in front of the door). He sighs, and Lee’s little sister flips him off as they start to walk away again, instruments in tow.

“You gonna charge him again?”

A tiny Will Solace looks at his elders for guidance as they walk along the path. As one of the youngest in the bunch, he especially idolizes anything his half-siblings do, going along with whatever they see fit.

“No, but we’re close enough to the archery range that I might just shoot them through their hearts myself. Eros and Aphrodite themselves are pretty much begging us to,” Lee grumbles.

“Why are we doing this again?” Will babbles, and his half-sister grabs his hand to help him walk faster.

“A crazy little thing called love. You’ll understand it better someday, kid.”

—

Thankfully, it all starts winding down after dinner. Luke finds you leaning against a tree flipping through your clipboard during the camp sing-along, so he tugs at your elbow to get your attention.

“Wanna get out of here?”

You look at him, slotting your pen behind your ear as you notice faint glitter particles still dotted along his cheeks. As your lips pull into a small smile, you say, "I still have a few things to do after this, don't you?"

"Cleared your schedule for the night," he mumbles, and whether it's the glow of the bonfire or he's actually blushing, a teasing expression crosses your face as you step closer and cross your arms at him.

"You cleared my schedule for the night. How on earth did you do that?"

Instead of a proper reply, he grabs your hand, tugging you out to the docks near the lake.

"Don't worry about it."

He's not going to tell you that he owes Chris and Annie a few favors before the end of the month to make up for the night shift they ended up taking. Instead, you both sit cross-legged at the edge of the dock, a gentle breeze brushing at your clothes and for the first time today, you're able to just exist.

"I hate Valentine's Day," you suddenly say, looking up at the night sky, and he's watching you closely as the gentle shine of the moon casts a cool glow on your face. Luke cringes at your statement, thinking he's already thrown away his shot.

"Why's that?"

"Tell me something Luke, am I unlikable? Like, is there anything wrong with me?"

He looks at you like you've told him you’re secretly a cyclops.

“The fuck? How many times do I have to tell you that everyone thinks you’re great?"

You don't even give him a chance to finish his sentence before you blurt, "I don’t want to be great, I want to be loved!" Reeling back a little, you lean back on your hands to create some distance.

 “Sorry... that was a lot, and I’m just...wanting to be noticed. It's nice to have people's attention sometimes, you know?”

You’ve got all of mine, he thinks, realizing he never stood a chance at fighting it—this four-letter feeling you give him is the first and only battle he’ll back down from, and you're the only person he’ll wholeheartedly surrender to.

In short, he’s fucked.

"I always notice you." He pulls out a dented box of chocolates from his jacket pocket, opening it up for the both of you to share, and the look of amusement on your face makes him glad that at least one thing somewhat went to plan today, even if the chocolate truffles are a bit smushed. You’re popping one into your mouth and his dark eyes follow the trail of your fingers to your mouth, feeling his heart beat a bit faster.

But then you both hear the soft strum of a guitar from near the trees, and the two of you turn to hear some of the Apollo kids singing beautifully along the coastline.

I'll be seeing you, in all the old, familiar places... That this heart of mine embraces...

You gasp, grabbing Luke’s arm to push yourself up so that the both of you can turn and face a small group of your closest Apollo friends singing to the both of you. Luke’s eyes soften further when he feels you grab his hand and squeeze, leaning against his shoulder as you listen.

“Did you do this?” you mumble, still entranced by the performance.

“Only if it makes you laugh.”

And you do, in the way that he loves—a bit crazy and too loud, and it’s perfect.

I’ll always think of you that way… I’ll find you in the morning sun….

Whether it’s fireflies or Will bouncing light off the water to look like small, glowing candles, Luke can’t tell—he’s too busy watching your lips pull into a smile so confectionery his sweet tooth starts to ache. The little kid was never good at archery like his other half-siblings, but as your eyes shimmer under the ambient lights, you think his added romantic gesture shot you straight through the heart.

“You know, sometimes I really do hate you, Luke Castellan,” you whisper, and it couldn’t be more far from the truth.

“No, you don’t.”

His eyes flicker to you again, but you’re already looking back at him.

“I don’t.”

And when the night is new, I’ll be looking at the moon… but I’ll be seeing you…

It’s quiet now, and you’re unsure of where the Apollonian ensemble disappeared to but instead of worrying about if they’ll make it back before curfew, you stand there in front of Luke with your guard down.

Getting a little closer than he expected, your noses brush before you pull the slightly crushed wildflowers from your jean pocket, the only physical reminder you’ve kept from today, and tuck them into his jacket pocket, sitting right above his heart. 

“Thank you.”

Luke doesn’t realize he’s holding his breath until he feels your lips gently kiss the marred skin on his right cheek, the blemish having an uncanny resemblance to a stroke of lightning; it serves as a reminder of his weakness. The lines blur as his eyes close to savor it and he doesn’t know if weakness is your kisses or his scar—but he is vulnerable to it all the same, realizing there’s a crack in the otherwise perfect persona that he’s worked so hard on.

When his eyes open again, his Achilles’ heel has taken human form.

—

“This has got to be cheating,” Clarisse grumbles as she watches from the distance, hidden behind the trees.

“It’s not cheating if I’m winning. Silena’s gonna get a kick out of this,” Lee chuckles, ushering everyone back towards the cabins. It’s a bit harder to do this in the dark as they try to be quiet and not interrupt whatever will happen next between their favorite counselors.

“Well lucky for you, your gifts are cute and romantic, what am I supposed to do? They fight enough!”

“That’s what got them into this mess in the first place. Come on, curfew’s in 10. We’ll find out which of us wins the bet soon enough,” Chris mutters, pushing them along back onto the main path.

“Easy for you to say, Rodriguez, you live with Luke!”

“Would I ever lie to you, La Rue?” he says with a mischievous grin, and the Apollo kids giggle at the irony.

—

“My body ages,

my anger burns into a seam.

I am so annoyed by love

and still it comes.”

-Kate Baer

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[harleehazbinfics]

Valentine's Special devout series

Word Count: 570 A/N: HAPPY VALENTINE'S DAY FROM TAINTED DOVE!!

It was valentine's day! And Lucifer had the whole day planned ahead. He excitedly walked to your room looking at the list of activities he had for the both of you.

‌ He knocked on the door and opened it when he heard your voice say to come in from the inside. He sees you folding your mat onto the cushion, probably just finished praying.

"Luci! Hi! I just finished praying, should we go now?" your figure bobs towards him happily.

He smiles and offers his arm for you to hold on to and replies, "Yeah, if you're ready. Do you still have things to do today?"

"I think I'm good. We can go now," you answered with a bright smile making him clutch his heart and sob at how blinding you were inside his head.

‌ He opens a portal and takes you to a wide open space with fields of grass adorned with flowers. The breathless blue sky makes your eyes filled with tears.

"D-do you like it?" Lucifer asks anxiously scratching nape.

You couldn't help but launch yourself into his arms from excitement of seeing such a thing. You've longed to see the blue sky and the beautiful flowers that gave Earth it's beauty.

He stood there in shock trying to understand what just happened while you gave him a quick squeeze before parting from him and replying.

"This is amazing! How did you do this!" You asked bewildered.

‌ He briefly explains that he manifested his powers and had the help of a friend to create a space that looked very much like the Earth he witnessed before he banished.

‌Clearly, you were elated when you heard that this was a visual representation of the Garden of Eden. It seemed so beautiful and vibrant despite not being real.

‌The both of you walked towards the tree that had a picnic ready for the both of you. You enjoyed your meal for a while and gazed the clouds as you rested.

"That one looks like a duck!"

"Look it's a pony!"

"That one... looks like a baby.."

‌The both of you nervously chuckled at the thought and quickly changed the subject as Lucifer invited you to take to the skies.

‌Opening your wings you soared among the clouds, feeling the cool breeze of the sunset on your finger tips as you played catch with one another.

‌He startles you when he stops running away and catches you in his arms, making you look at the soft expression on his face while the both of you stayed afloat.

‌You close your eyes nervously, somewhat shaking at what you expected him to do. However, he chuckles at your cuteness making you open you eyes in confusion, on to see him dip his lips and kiss your forehead instead.

"I know how this is important to you, so I won't force you unless you're ready," he tells you carressing your cheek.

‌You blush and smile at his words nodding as you agreed. Your arms circled around neck while he pulled you closer, ever so gently and swayed you side-to-side while you watched the sun fall and the moon rise. The sky filled with brilliant lights and stars, a few of them rushing past another making it more magical.

"This was wonderful, Luci," you mutter resting your head on his chest.

He smiles and responds, "You're welcome. Happy Valentines Day."

"Happy Valentine's Day!"

[janeyseymour]

If your still doing request, maybe Y/N is crushing on Melissa, and leaves her a secret admirer gift on Valentine’s Day, due to wanting Melissa to be happy/have some happiness after the whole Gary disaster.

stop i loved writing this one! thank you for the prompt! As per usual: not edited in the slightest and praying it's good enough!

When There is Love, There is Life...

WC: ~4.7k

Since Melissa broke up with Gary, she’s been… not herself. She’s been down and out, quiet, resigned. She doesn’t have her usual fire or bite that you’ve come to know and love. And you completely understand why. She was with Gary for a couple of years, and she was perfectly content with him (as much as that pained you to see). The redhead could see her spending the rest of her days with him as a boyfriend, life partner… whatever you wanted to label it as so long as that label wasn’t “husband”. She made that very clear. And then, like a fool, he went and ruined it despite the fact that she had told him she didn’t want to get married again. He proposed, and he lost her because of it. In that, she lost a piece of herself.

It didn’t help that Valentine’s day was just around the corner either. Perfect timing for a breakup that would be humiliatingly public and change her life more than she was willing to admit.

So when she isn’t quite herself, you understand why. Everyone at the school understands why she’s been different. 

Your colleagues have all offered different supports for her. Barbara was there when she needed a glass of wine, Jacob and Janine were there when the second grade teacher wanted to cook for someone, Gregory had taken her to a kickboxing place where she could get her aggressions out, Mr. Johnson brought in bunch of old plates and bowls for her to destroy in any way she would choose (she chose her emotional support baseball bat), even Ava was able to help by taking her out to a club to dance. 

What had you done? Not much else other than offer her gentle words of support and provide small, sweet gestures to remind her that she had a village to help take care of her. You promised her that it was all going to be okay. You gave her small, shy smiles when you felt that she needed one, and she had even come to you for a hug one day when she was in desperate need of physical touch and her work wife had taken off a bit early to attend a doctor’s appointment with her husband. If you noticed that she was dragging, you would take it upon yourself to make another pot of coffee and bring her a mug of the warm beverage just the way that she liked it prepared. 

You were there for her in ways that were small to you, but they made the biggest differences to her. While she surely appreciated the things that everybody else did for it, it was a bit of a one and done kind of deal to offer their supports initially, but your kind and thoughtful actions carried on as the days passed on. It made her feel taken care of in a way that she hadn’t felt in a while, even when she was with Gary.

“Any plans for Valentine’s day?” Jacob asks the group one day during lunch, and you can see the way that Melissa’s face immediately turns solemn. You knew that her and Gary were going to go out to a nice steakhouse on the fourteenth, but that plan was obviously shot now that they weren’t together.

“Gregory and I are going out to BoneTown together since we’re both single,” Janine jumps in. “It’ll be… nice.”

“Nice,” Gregory hums. “Yeah.”

“Zach and I are going out to this one new tofu spot that I’ve been dying to try,” Jacob grins. “It’ll be good. Then we’ll probably head home and have a few glasses of wine before retiring for the night… What about you Barb?”

“Gerald and I are going back to that one restaurant at the airport that we liked so much last year,” Barbara tells the crew. “Melissa, you know you’re always welcome to join us.”

“I ain’t gonna crash your Valentine’s Day plans with Gerald,” she sighs softly. “I’ll Probably finish off a bottle of wine on my own. Don’t got much else to do these days.”

You lay a gentle hand over hers and attempt to pour as much comfort and love into that small gesture as you can. “I don’t really have plans either,” you shrug. “So if you want, we can have Galentine’s day and finish off a bottle of wine together.”

The redhead gives you a sad smile. “Thanks for the offer, hun.”

As the days leading up to Valentine’s Day come and go, you see the way that the rest of your colleagues get small little gestures from their partners. It’s sweet- it isn’t just one day to go all out and celebrate love, but instead a reminder that love is always around and that there should always be an appreciation for your partner through life. Even Gregory and Janine have gone back to flirting, and he’s doing small little things for her.

As Barbara gets a small bouquet of flowers delivered to her in the break room, you see the way that Melissa’s body deflates.

“Wow,” she whispers. “Those are gorgeous.”

You bite the inside of your cheek. You really don’t know how to make her feel better through this one, so you simply top off her coffee with a gentle squeeze of the shoulder.

She reaches up and sets her hand over yours with a sad, resigned, smile.

When lunch is over, you head back to your classroom with your kids and give them five minutes to regroup themselves before you begin your lessons again for the rest of the day.

And in those five minutes, you research different flower arrangements that you could possibly send to the redhead who is so down this season. You’re able to find a site that you like, and you bookmark it for later when the kids have gone home and you actually have time to go over the different selections that this place has to offer.

The rest of the day goes by relatively normally, with the slight hiccup of Jamal spilling his juice all over himself and having to go down to the nurse to get another change of clothes while you get on your hands and knees to wipe up the mess with the paper towels that never seem to absorb anything but only spread the liquid around instead. With a sigh, you simply throw a rather large wad of paper towels over the area and give up, telling your students to be especially careful in this area.

The kids leave for the day, giving you lots of hugs and thanks for teaching them that day, and as you see them out, you see the way that Melissa’s kids are doing the same to her. It warms your heart to see that beautiful smile that you haven’t seen quite as much of lately. She looks up, making eye contact with you with this emerald eyes of hers, before giving you a gentle smile and a nod of her head. She’s telling you she’s okay, at least right now. You give her a thumbs up with a bright, warm smile of your own before returning your attention to the last few stragglers in your classroom. 

Usually, the redhead and you leave the school everyday almost right after the bell rings to dismiss the final wave of students; but not today. Today, you have to stay after school to look over the different flower arrangements that you could potentially get Melissa. You settle down back at your desk in the front of your room and start looking at the pre-made arrangements before you hear a gentle knock on your doorframe. You quickly flip the tab to your emails before glancing up.

“Hey,” Melissa says softly.

“Hey,” you smile at her.

“You staying late tonight?”

“Yeah,” you sigh dramatically. “I have a bunch of emails I have to reply to, and I’m prepping for this round of conferences,” you lie. You’ve already finished most of your conference preparations, but she doesn’t need to know that.

“Oh.” Her face drops, and you immediately feel bad. “Well, have a good night, Y/N.”

You stand from your chair and stretch, as if you’ve been sitting there for a while, even though she had seen you not ten minutes ago standing at your door with the kids. “I think I can spare a few moments to walk a pretty lady to her car though.”

You notice the way that her cheeks turn pink and she tucks a few hairs behind her ears shyly- it’s so unlike Melissa. “You don’t have to do that.”

“I insist,” you tell her as you make your way over to her and take one of her many bags for her.

The two of you walk out together and make small talk through the parking lot, exchanging a few words about your days, before you get to her car. She unlocks the door, and you open the door for her, gesturing for her to get inside. “My lady.”

“You’re too kind,” she says softly as she sets her purse into the passenger seat. You hand her her other bag and allow her to get situated before closing the door for her too.

“Have a good night, Mel,” you tell her. “And seriously, if you need someone tonight… because I know lunch was a little rough, please don’t hesitate to text or call. I always have my phone on me, and I’ll be there for you.”

Her eyes almost well with tears. They look a little glassy as she nods silently and turns her car on. “Thank you, hun. Have a good night too.”

With that, she pulls off out of the parking lot, and you head back into the school to continue looking at the different flowers.

You find two relatively small bouquets of flowers that you absolutely adore, but you want to do something special for her. So, and maybe this is overkill, you order three different arrangements: two smaller ones, and then one bigger custom one. She deserves to feel loved and special. You’ll give her the two smaller ones in the days leading up to Valentine’s Day, and then on the big day, she’ll receive the specially made one for her. You just hope that she doesn’t find out it’s you who is giving her these flowers. 

The next morning, you pick up the first flower order, and it’s perfect. It’s small, and sweet, and you know she’ll appreciate it. You print out a little note to go with it, knowing you can’t handwrite your note or she’ll figure you out right away.

You deserve to feel special, your note reads, you tie it to the bouquet with a little ribbon that you had brought into school, and you set it on her desk before she comes in for the day. Then you head down to the break room to brew a pot of coffee like you usually do and wait for the rest of your colleagues to make their way in.

Everyone has joined you at your selected tables to watch the news and drink your coffees when Melissa comes in, the flowers in hand.

“Wow, Melissa! Those are beautiful!” Barbara grins when she sees what the redhead is holding.

“They really are,” she looks back down at them, admiring them. The money you were spending was well worth it to see the happiness and spark come back into the redhead’s eyes, even if just for a few seconds. “I don’t know who they’re from though.”

She settles in next to you, her mug of coffee already prepared and waiting for her next to you, and you glance at the flowers.

“Wow, Mel,” you say softly. “They’re really pretty.”

“Was there a note?” Jacob asks.

“There was,” Melissa fiddles with it in her fingers, having untied it from around the flowers. She reads it out loud before sighing. “But there was no name attached to it.”

“Sounds like someone has a secret admirer!” Janine giggles. “Oh my goodness, this is so exciting!”

“Maybe it’s Gary trying to win you back,” the energetic second grade teacher suggests.

That makes Melissa think. Maybe it is. And you are not about to give yourself up, so you just set a gentle hand on Melissa’s shoulder and squeeze it gently.

“Whoever got those for you made a good choice,” you say softly. 

The next morning, you execute the same thing that had yesterday with the other smaller bouquet you had bought, and again she brings them into the break room with her to watch the news. She looks so happy, it melts your heart. You’re so glad you can bring her some sort of happiness through this tough season of hers, even if she doesn’t know it’s you who is giving it to her.

“You deserve to feel loved,” Melissa reads the second note. “ But again, no name.”

And finally, one Valentine’s Day, you bring in the biggest bouquet that you had purchased. You can’t hide this one under your coat though, so when Mr. Johnson sees you walking in, you know you’ve been caught.

“Mr. J,” you plead as the two of you walk in the direction of Melissa’s classroom. “Please… don’t say anything. She doesn’t need to know it’s me.”

“I think she’d like to know who it is,” the janitor states.

“But I don’t want her finding out,” you say quietly. “I just want her to be happy and feel loved during this season, especially with the breakup being so new for her.”

“What do I get out of not telling her?” he questions.

You roll your eyes. You knew he would ask this question. “I’ll get you a gift card to buffalo wild wings- twenty bucks.”

“Make it twenty-five, and you got yourself a deal.”

“Fine,” you groan. “I’ll run out and grab it tonight, and you’ll have it by tomorrow, okay?”

“Oh, hell yeah!” he pumps his fist in the air victoriously before leaving you to do your thing.

This bouquet already has a special note written with it, so you can just drop them off in her room without having to prep anything. You set the bouquet on her desk again before making sure the little card is visible. And then you practically sprint off in the direction of your own room. You really do have to get things prepared in there for the class party before you make your way down to the staff room like you usually do.

When you get there, everyone else is already there, including Melissa- and she has her flowers with her and the note.

“Y/N!” Janine calls you over. “You’re just in time to hear what Melissa’s secret admirer has to say about this bouquet!”

With eyebrows raised, you make your way over to the coffee pot to pour yours and the redhead’s coffee and make it up.

“When there is love, there is life, and you deserve it all,” the redhead reads softly, a smile on her face. 

“Oh, that is so kind of whoever this is,” Barbara notes.

“Seriously! Those flowers are absolutely stunning,” Janine states. 

“And I love that this person didn’t just go for a dozen red roses,” Gregory tells her. “All of these flowers mean different things, I don’t know if the person who got this for you knew that or not, but…”

“What do they mean?” Melissa’s interest is piqued.

Shit. You forgot Gregory loves any sort of plants- of course he would know the different meanings behind the flowers you picked out for your little crush.

“Well,” he says as he takes a closer look at the arrangement. “The yellow roses signify friendship, while the white ones mean purity. The yellow roses that turns red at the ends shows friendship turning into love. The pink carnations show that this person will never forget you, while the daffodils symbolize rebirth and new beginnings. Hydrangeas show gratitude and deep understanding. And finally, the baby’s breath that is used to surround all of the other flowers shows innocence and hope.”

“Wow,” Jacob breathes softly. “That’s so… romantic.”

“If the person knew that’s what those all meant,” you say from your place next to Melissa. You knew all of this- you had done your research.

“So, what do you think this person is trying to say?” Janine asks, rocking back and forth on her toes.

“If I had to guess,” Gregory scratches the back of his neck. “This person is trying to tell Melissa that they started off as friends, but it’s turned into a pure and innocent sort of romance? Like they have a deep understanding that this is probably not the best time, but they will never forget her, they have hope for the future, and they are just grateful to have Melissa in their life in any way possible.”

Fuck. Gregory just said everything you were trying to subtly convey to the redheaded second grade teacher through flowers. Fuck. If she finds out it’s you… you’re screwed.

They don’t find out who you are today, and come the end of the day, you and Melissa walk out together as you usually do. She is happy, even doing a little dance as she leaves the building, holding the flowers closely to her. You’ve taken it upon yourself to carry the rest of her things for her, despite her protests.

“You have to make sure those flowers get home safely,” you chuckle as you wave her off. You place her things in her car before giving her a gentle pat on the back.

“I’ll see you a little later?” she asks.

“I’ll be there to enjoy some delicious Italian made by my favorite person,” you tell her. “Am I bringing red or white tonight? Maybe a bottle of champagne?”

“Chianti,” she tells you. “And maybe a dessert wine for after?”

“You got it,” you grin at her. “I’ll see you at 5:30.”

When you knock on her door, you can hear her having a very loud conversation over the phone.

“No, Gare,” she’s protesting loudly into the phone as she opens the door and invites you in. She holds up one finger, quietly requesting for a few minutes. “No! I do not want to get back together!”

“Then why did you call?!” he shouts back.

“Because I was tryna figure out who got me these flowers, and you’re the type of guy to make some grand gesture like this to get me back!”

“Well, it wasn’t me, but it sounds like you want to get back together!”

“I thought I made it clear, I didn’t!” She hangs up angrily before hurling her phone halfway across the room. It lands on the couch before bouncing off and hitting the floor.

“You okay?” you ask, although you very much know the answer.

“Fuckin’ men,” she shouts as she retrieves her phone and stuffs it into her back pocket. She takes a deep breath before looking at you. “I’m better now that you’re here.”

“Still haven’t figured out who your secret admirer is?” you tease.

“No,” she grumbles as she leads you into the kitchen. It smells amazing. “And it’s drivin’ me up a damned wall. Whoever this person is, I just want to know so I can thank them.”

You almost reveal yourself there, but you remember what Gregory had said earlier in the day, and you don’t want to make a fool out of yourself right now. So you just shrug and gesture for her to open the wine.

The two of you have a nice, quiet night in eating delicious food, drinking good wine, and then watching a few romance comedy movies together. It’s nice, it’s sweet, it’s pure… it’s domestic the way that she has a blanket draped over the two of you while you lay your head in her lap and she feeds the chocolate covered strawberries she had made for dessert.

But finally, you sigh. “I should probably get going with school tomorrow.”

She frowns. Melissa is clearly enjoying tonight with you, and you have to throw in the towel because of work tomorrow. “Yeah, I guess I should probably head up for the night too.”

You sit up with her help and start to grab your things. She watches as your figure sways back and forth, somewhat from the wine and somewhat from not having stood for hours.

“You okay?” she chuckles.

You shake your legs out. “All good. Don’t worry about me, Mel.” You make your way over to her once you have your bag around you. She stands and embraces you for a few minutes, and you allow her perfume to wash over you.

“Happy Valentine’s Day, Mel,” you whisper as you pull away.

“Happy Valentine’s Day, hun,” she smiles at you. “Thank you for coming over.”

“Of course,” you beam back at her as you head for the door. You make your way out and are halfway to your car before you hear the front door open again, and she’s calling out to you.

“Text me when I know you’re home safe?”

You spin around to give her a thumbs up with a goofy grin on your face before you climb into your car. She watches you pull off, and you make sure you remember to text her when you get home.

“I still don’t know,” Melissa says quietly in the break room the next day. “Did you see anyone Ava?”

The principal is drinking her hangover elixir, sunglasses still on her face. “Girl, you know I get here way after you guys… otherwise I woulda been all over this secret admirer stuff before today.”

“How hungover are you?” the redhead eyes the woman.

“Valentine’s Day? More like Valentine’s week. You know this entire week I’ve been wined, dined and-”

“Please, God… don’t finish that sentence,” Barbara cuts off Ava. The principal just smirks.

“But, if you really are curious, maybe we can see what flower company was delivering these to your room to figure out who this admirer is,” Ava grins.

“And how the hell are we gonna do that?” Melissa looks at her incredulously.

“Girl, I got cameras all over this joint,” the hungover woman grins. “Come down at my prep. I’ll be less hungover, and feel more inclined to help.”

“Thank you, Ava,” the second grade teacher looks mildly impressed with her boss’s willingness to help. “Hey, has anyone seen Y/N yet today?”

“Her car wasn’t in the lot when I pulled in… weird,” Jacob hums.

You rush in frantically. “Hey, hey,” you wave. “Sorry I’m late… got a flat tire, had to change it on Girard, and then got stuck in some traffic.” You make your way over to the sink to clean off your dirty hands.

“Girl, you ain’t late,” Ava laughs. “You’re still twenty minutes early.”

“Why were you on Girard?” Melissa questions. “You usually come from the opposite direction.”

The truth is, you had to go pick up that gift card you promised the custodian for keeping your secret, but you can’t tell her that.

“Late for me,” you sigh, ignoring the redhead’s question. “You know I like to get here at least an hour in advance to prep for the day. Now, because I’m late, I’m gonna have to skip out on watching the news with you guys, but let me know if there’s anything worth hearing about.”

You slip your lunch into the fridge (leftovers from last night) before dashing out to your classroom.

On your way to your room, you hand Mr. Johnson his promised gift card, and he grins. “Thank you.”

“No, thank you,” you tell him earnestly before going into your room. Only then do you realize that you entirely forgot to pour yourself a cup of coffee.

You get that mug of coffee about twenty minutes later, after the news segment is over and your colleagues are heading back to their classrooms. You hear a gentle knock on your doorframe, making you look up. Melissa is standing there with two mugs filled to the brim with coffee.

“Thought you might need this,” the redhead chuckles as she hands the mug to you. You let your fingers wrap around it, and the warmth radiating from the cup and from the sweet gesture sooth your somewhat frazzled soul right now.

“Thank you,” you smile at her before taking a sip.

“Of course.”

Your morning goes by with no hitches, and you silently thank God for that as you walk your children down to the music room. You don’t think you could handle another crisis today.

Melissa gives you a small smile and wave as she also takes her class to their special- gym class. You hear her tell her little eagles to behave before she heads into the office. That’s odd; the two of you usually spend your preps together, but maybe she has a meeting with Ava or has to make copies and she’ll be down to your room after.

“Hey,” the redhead knocks on Ava’s door and makes her way in.

“Girl, you gotta see this,” the principal leans back in her chair and turns the monitor for Melissa to see more easily.

When the redhead gets to where she can see the screen, Ava already has the security footage up and on the camera that is in the hallway to where your rooms are. She sees you heading into her own classroom- the first small bouquet of flowers in your hand. The principal fast forwards to the next day around the same time, and there you are with the second small bouquet of flowers. And then she fast forwards to yesterday, and you’re chatting with Mr. Johnson while holding the gigantic bouquet of flowers.

Ava turns the sound on, and the redhead can hear you pleading to not give you up.

“Wow,” Melissa whispers. She bites her lip nervously. “Thank you.”

“I got you girl,” Ava tosses her hair over her shoulder. “What you gonna do about this?”

At that, the redhead purses her lips in thought. She doesn’t really know. “Thank her, I guess.”

As Melissa makes her way down to your room, she really doesn’t know what she’s going to do. But before she knows it, she’s at your door and making her way into the classroom. You look up from your computer to give her a bright smile.

“Hey,” you smile as you bring your coffee cup up to your lips and take a sip.

“Thank you,” Melissa says softly as she perches herself on your desk.

“For?” you raise a brow.

“The flowers,” she smiles as she reaches forward and squeezes your shoulder.

You blush deeply. “H-how?”

“Oh,” the redhead laughs quietly. “I have my ways… Ava has security cameras and we saw you putting them in my room.”

“Dammit,” you grumble.

“That was really sweet of you,” Melissa tells you quietly. “Thank you. Seriously.”

You turn a violent shade of red. “Uh, yeah. No problem. I meant what I said in my notes: You deserve to feel loved. You deserve to feel special. When there is love, there is life, and you deserve it all.”

“If you meant all that,” Melissa hums. “Did you… mean all the things Gregory thought you meant?”

If possible, you blush even more, feeling it spread from just your face to your ears and your chest.

“Did ya?”

You nod sheepishly. “But I know with everything that’s happened recently… and I really am just grateful to have you in my life, however that is.”

She gives you a gentle squeeze of the shoulder before leaning in and pecking your cheek softly.

You feel that spot burning, but you couldn’t be happier.

“I do like you, you know,” she says softly. “You being here is part of the reason I broke it off with Gary.”

“What?” your jaw drops.

“You’ve always been special… but I just don’t think now is a great time,” Melissa admits quietly.

You nod solemnly.

“But I think that with time,” she says quickly. “If you’re willing to wait… although I know that isn’t really fair of me to ask of you.”

“I’m willing to wait,” you whisper. “You’re worth it.”

Next

[andydrysdalerogers]

Can I Count on Forever? ~ Chris Evans

Chris Evans x Senator Reader

Word Count ~ 4.2K

Songs: The Man by Taylor Swift; Paper Rings by Taylor Swift; Lover by Taylor Swift 

Its been three years since you met Chris and today, you take one of the biggest steps of your life.

Part Three of the "Can I?" mini series - Part One // Part Two // Main Masterlist

Warnings: fluff, SMUT (p in v, oral – female receiving, slight dominance kink), mentions of cheating, accusations of cheating, political nonsense. 

A/N: Happy Valentine's Day! Just a quick message. While I have tried to keep this politically neutral, I will say that I have no idea what any real-world person’s views are and will not assume. Also, I am not an expert in politics and will not claim to be.  In the US, we have an election in November. Please, inform yourself on all of your local, state and federal races and issues and remember to register and vote.  You can’t complain if you don’t vote! 

Your POV 

Clack.  

Clack.  

Clack.  

Your heels clicked on the floor as you walked to your destiny. It was the end of a fairy tale or the start of one, and you weren’t sure if you could get through the double doors. You thought back on your life, closed your eyes and prayed.  

It had been a year since Chris proposed and it was here, your wedding day.  As you woke on that bright May morning, you reached for your fiancé and found the bed empty.  But a smile crossed your face.  He wasn’t in the hotel with you.  He was at home with Dodger and his groomsmen while you were at the hotel with your bridal party.  As you stretched, there was a knock at the door.  “Room service!” 

Curiously, you opened the door, and the bellman pushed a cart in. “Mr. Evans asked us to deliver breakfast and champagne to you to start your special day right.  Congratulations ma’am.”  He stepped back out and you squealed.  Opening the cover, Chris had sent your favorite breakfast, along with coffee and champagne. Savoring the meal, you sent a text to Chris.  

YN: Thank you, love, for my breakfast!  My fiancé: You’re welcome.  Only six more hours before I see you again and you make an honest man outta me.  

You hugged the phone to your chest when your maid of honor knocked yelling for you to open.  

A few hours later, you were waiting in your bridal suite, your father comes in and sees you for the first time.  “Oh, my baby, you look beautiful,” tears forming in his eyes  

“Thank you, daddy,” your own tears welling up.  

“No, don’t cry.”  He handed you a tissue.  “Chris is a lucky man. I am so happy you found each other.”  

The wedding planner knocked.  “We’re ready for you.”  

As you stood at the double doors, you thought back to how you got here. How you fought for each other, against the world. The doors opened and all you could see was Chris.  

Chris POV 

I stood at the altar, waiting for those doors to open again and let my beautiful girl come to me. The past three years had been a whirlwind, and I wouldn’t trade it for the world.  All the bridesmaids make it down the aisle and little Stella finishes with her flowers and the music changes.  Everyone stands and the doors open. My jaw falls open. I can’t see anything else but her. She’s an angel, all in white, gliding on her dad’s arm. The tears are building up in my eyes at how beautiful she looked, my little senator.  

Once she reached me, I could feel a tear rolling down and she reached up and wiped it away.  “Please stop crying,” she whispered.  “You’re gonna set me off.”  

I could see her lip tremble a little bit.  I kissed her hand, "I love you," I whispered.  

We kept it traditional, reciting words that have been said by couples like us thousands of times over.  When I slip that ring on her finger, it was like a part of me that was missing got put back and I’m overwhelmed.  

“I now pronounce you husband and wife.  Chris, you may kiss your bride.” 

“Finally,” I breathed as I took her face in my hands and kissed those lips that had haunted my dreams since the first day I met her. It was perfect and when I pulled away, her lips were just a touch redder and more swollen, her eyes danced.  

“I now present to you Mr. and Mrs. Evans!” 

The whole church cheered, and I took my wife’s hand in mine and walked out. After three years and one horrible misunderstanding, I finally have my girl on my arm as my wife.  

The reception is amazing.  YN and the wedding planner did a great job. It's intimate and romantic but not over the top.  Her father wanted to take out a house loan to pay for whatever YN wanted but she refused. “I don’t need you to be in debt Daddy.  Give me a reasonable budget and I’ll make it work.” That is my girl, always modest. But this is a once in a lifetime, if I have any say in it and I want it to be her dream. I talked to her dad on the side.  

“Mr. YLN, I just want YNN to have everything she wants, so get your budget together and I’ll double it. I want this to be a gift to her but never find out, because her smile will be my thanks.”  

It worked like a charm because I can see the tears in her eyes as she looks at the room and see her vision come to life. “Oh my...” she whispers. I take it all in, the crystal vases holding the red roses, tea lights on all the tables. The walls have a soft light to them, and the dance floor is decorated with lanterns and rose petals.  “It's perfect.”  

“It's you, my beautiful wife.” 

It's hours before I can take her home, well, to our honeymoon suite.  She’s exhausted, riding up in the elevator. I scoop her up in my arms, her heels already dangling in my hand. “You going to sleep, baby?” 

“Hmm, no, not yet. Just tired.” She smiles at me. “It was the perfect day.”  

“Oh yeah? Something important happened?” I tease as we get to our honeymoon suite.  

“Not really,” she shrugged. “Just tied myself to the perfect man.”  

“Sounds fun.” I had one more surprise for her. I opened the door and carried her in. The room was decorated in candles and roses, a bottle of champagne next to her favorite snack.  I had always dreamt of that night we had by the fire after I had proposed.  It was perfect and I wanted to recreate it for her.  Except this time, the hotel laid out blankets and pillows in a beautiful bed.  

“Chris,” she whispered, and I could tell she loved it. 

I set her on her feet and pressed my front to her back. I leaned down to whisper in her ear. “I was an idiot the first time I made love to you in front of a fire.”  I found the zipper on her dress and slowly began to bring it down. “I was apologizing for being the biggest jerk in the world after you protected me. I wasn’t appreciating the setting or taking my time with you.  But this time,” the zipper was down and i kissed her shoulders, “this time I want to worship you because you made me the happiest man in the world.”  I pushed the bejeweled straps of her gown down and she gasped at the sudden cool air.  

“Oh fuck,” I murmured as I took in the lacy white corset, teeny tiny white panties and stockings. She looked like a goddam angel that was going to send me straight to heaven.  I lifted her out of the gown and spun her to look at me. “This is like a present for me,” as I run a finger over the top of the corset.  

“Unwrap me Chris,” she said in a low sultry voice.  

And I crumble.  

Because there is no way I would say no to this gorgeous creature right now.  

I kiss her softly and pull away, kissing her forehead before turning her around again. I undo the ribbon holding the corset closed and let it fall away.  I kneel down and roll down the stocking and tip her foot so she can lift, and I can remove one stocking, repeating on the other.  I run my hands up her legs, feeling her shiver under my touch, listening to her breath hitch. I kiss right under each cheek, giving a nibble on one.  

“Chris,” she moans, “stop teasing.”  

“Is that an order Senator?” I smile against her skin. “Or is it a request?  Because,” I spin her again, so she is facing me while I’m still on my knees, “if it's an order, then we have a problem.”  

“What problem?” 

“I remember you promised me that I would only take orders from you in public.”  I kissed around her belly button. She moans and her head tilts back. “But I would give the orders in our bedroom.”  

“We’re not in our bedroom,” she argues.  “We’re... oh.... oh fuck,” she whimpers as I kiss over the scrape of lace she calls panties and press against her mound.  

“Want to try that again, Mrs. Evans?” I pull the lace down just enough so I can get my nose close to her center and inhale that scent that is only her.  

“I...” she studders and I chuckle. I yank the lace away from her body, ripping them off.  

“Chris!” 

“No,” I say in a husky voice.  “No orders from you, Mrs. Evans.  You want something, you beg for it.  because until we get back from our honeymoon, you are not in charge.  Who is in charge?” 

“Fuck,” she cries as I let my finger circle her clit.  “You’re...hmm... you’re in charge.”  

“Good girl.” I stood up and lifted her into my arms, wrapping her legs around me. “Such a good girl for me.” I walked us over to the fireplace bed and laid her down.  I took a long look at my prize, my angel, my wife. “God, I’m a lucky bastard.”  

I didn’t realize I said that out loud until she giggled. Then she grabbed the end of my undone bow tie and yanked me on top of her. She kissed me hard and then pulled away. “Please Chris, let me see my husband naked.”  

“Fuck me.” I pulled the tie off, straddled her and grabbed her wrists. I tied them together and lifted her arms above the head. “Naughty girl,” I said. “No touching now. Bad girls don’t get to touch.” She wiggled under me, trying to get relief from me.  

“I’m sorry, baby, please, I’m sorry. Let me touch you.”  

“No.” I stood up and started to strip. I unbutton my shirt slowly, working the cufflinks she had given me as a wedding present off carefully. She licked her bottom lip and I smirked. I was shirtless, which, if she had her way, she would keep me like this every day. I moved quickly with my belt and the button of my slacks.  She whimpered and I bit my bottom lip. “You should have stayed being my good girl, little senator.” 

“Chris, you’re being mean,” she whined.  

“Am I?” I let my pants hit the floor before I crawled up her body.  I kiss her inner thighs, sucking little bruises as I go. “I’m sorry sweetheart.” I kiss right above her clit, and she bucks at the sensation. I pin her hips and licked from the bottom to the top of her pussy. God, I love the way she tastes, the way she coats my tongue in her arousal. Fuck, do I love being in between her legs. “So good,” I tell her, “taste like heaven.”  I work my tongue in her, fucking her while my thumb presses down on her clit. “Fuck baby, you’re even tight for my tongue.”  

“Chris,” she mewled.  She was close, so fucking close.  

“Come for me little senator. That’s an order.”  I shoved two fingers into her cunt and sucked on her clit at the same time.  she shattered, crying out as her orgasm fluttered through her body. I made it last for as long as I could. I tease her relentlessly and get her right back on the edge. Then i pull away and she cries in frustration because I know her orgasm is fading.  I climb up her body, tasting every inch of skin I can until I can wrap her legs around my waist. “Hang on, baby.”  

She grips the straps around her wrists and then I force my way home.  She screams as I bury myself in her to the hilt.  But I’m not cruel.  I wait until she is comfortable and then rock into her, leting her feel every inch, every ridge, every vein of my cock along her ways. Fuck, she feels so good. I’ve only fucked her bare a couple of times and the feeling of her heat, how wet, how needy she is, I’m going to fucking die a happy man.  

“Harder Chris, fuck, please harder.” I grab her legs and push them over my shoulder so I can fuck her into the mattress.  She feels like fucking heaven and tighter in this position. I can’t believe I get to do this with my wife. She’s moaning and crying out from all the stimulation.  I don’t want to ever stop.  

Your POV 

Chris is fucking you to within an inch of your life.  You are in heaven, lost in the heavenly glow of sex and you need him.  “Chris, please,” you pleaded.  You know what he wants because you want it too.  He pulls out quick, making you cry before he flips you to your front and gets your ass in the air.  

“This pussy is magically,” he says, looking it over before he fills you again.  You have always loved this angle. You can feel everything and when he moves, you can feel his balls hitting your clit.  Its perfect.  

“C-chris, I can’t hold on,” you whine. “Husband please!” 

“Oh shit,” he moans, “that’s fucking hot.” He thrusts faster. “Say it again. Say! It!” 

You’re on the cusp of euphoria. “Chris, Husband please!” He ruts into you, reaching down to circle and stroke your clit and you break. You scream your release, gripping his cock, squeezing him until he released into you, coating you in his cum.  

“Fuck!” He pumps a few more times until he stops, lowering you gently to the bed, not ready to separate. You lay there on your sides, legs tangles to keep you connected, catching your breaths when you start to giggle.  “And what is so funny, my wife?” 

You take a breath to speak.  “You have a kink, baby. You like it when I called you husband.” You turn to look back at him. 

He smiles before leaning over and kissing you again. “I also like calling you Wife and you like it too. You clenched involuntarily and Chris hisses. He caressed your thigh. “Told you.”  

After Chris cleans you up and you both crawl into bed, you find myself laying on top of his chest. “I wish we could stay this way forever.” You place a kiss on his chest.  

“I wish we could too, little Senator, but then how will you rule the world?” 

Its a valid question. One you are excited to figure out.  

You’ve been married for two months and now you are at the National Convention. Getting married during an election season was crazy but your team and Chris’s said it would give you the best boost.  You were set to become the youngest and second woman nominated for the office of President.   

As you stood in the wings of TD Gardens in Boston, Chris watched as you paced back and forth, looking over your note cards for your acceptance speech. “Sweetheart, don’t be nervous.”  

“That’s easy for you, Chris, you’re an actor.  You perform for millions.”  

He chuckled and shook his head. “I act in front of a camera for twenty people and then they watch after its edited. YN,” he stopped you and wrapped you in his arms. “You are a brilliant speaker. The people have nominated you, they believe in you.  I believe in you.” He tilted your head up so you would look at him.  “Go out there and be a rock star, Little Senator.”  

The convention went off without a hitch and it was the final three months of the campaign. It was grueling, city after city, town hall after town hall.  Chris could only be on the road with you for a few days at a time as ASP launched into the primer source for facts in the election.  He had to host panels and discussions. Video chats in between calls and meet and greets was not how you imagined your first few months of marriage but it could all be worth it. 

Chris POV 

I was late for our video date. “Fuck.” I was jogging to my office in the ASP offices so I could call YN, when I was stopped by Megan. “What’s up?” 

“Chris, there is an article floating around that claims the Senator had an affair right before the wedding.”  

My heart stopped.  

“What?” 

“The Enquirer has photos of her entering a hotel room that did not belong to the campaign. The room was rented out by someone named M. Capuano.” 

We made it to my office. I closed the door. “What does my wife’s team said?” 

Megan grimaced. “That’s the thing. They said they aren’t worried about it. Rachel said that she spoke to the Senator and if questioned, they are going with no comment.”  

I smiled. “That’s my girl. We’re saying the same thing, Megan. Thanks.” I turned to pick up my phone.  

Megan scoffed.  “There is no way we can go with no comment, Chris. They will tear her apart. You have to talk to her about.  She’s just not bringing herself down but you as well.”  

“I’ll talk to her. Give me five minutes.” Megan rolled her eyes and left my office as I called my wife. “Hello, my little Senator.”  

“Hi handsome!” She was flushed from running for her phone. She was heartbreakingly beuatfiul, her cream colored blouse clung to her curves that I love and gave just the hint of clevage. “How were your discussions?”   

“Really good, looks like the live numbers will be out highest yet.” I smirk. “Execpt for my last meeting.”  

She frowned. “With who?” 

“Megan. She wanted to bring attention to the fact that there is an article going aroung saying my wife is having an affair.”  

YN gasped. “Chris, you know I would never...” 

“I was nervous for just a second and then she told me the name the room was reserved under and it took everything in me not to laugh.” 

She looked confused. “I don’t understand.” 

“Sweetheart, remember when you had a swing in Virginia and I was able to see you and we kept it on the low.”  

“Yes,” she dragged out.  

“Well I couldn’t reserve the room under either of our names so my uncle helped me and reserve the room for me. M. Capuano. Uncle Mike.”  

I watched as the realization clicked. “Oh my gosh, they think I am having an affair with M. Capuano but really I’m having an affair with my husband.”  

I smirk as she laughs. “I don’t know what you are laughing at Senator. You’re having an affair.”  

“I sure am. The man really is hard to resist. Dark gripable hair, a beard that feels so good on my skin. Bluest eyes I ever seen. He’s built and has those arms that can hold you to him all night long.”  

“Fuck sweetheart, you can’t say stuff like when when I don’t have time right now.” I looked at my calendar on my computer. “I can be with you tomorrow morning and stay through the weekend.”  

“I’m looking forward to it Mr. Affair.”  

“I’m going to rock your world Mrs. Affair.  I love you.”  

“I love you more.”  

YN POV 

You’re nervous.  

This day is always nerve-racking.  

This isn’t your first one either.  

And hopefully it isn’t your last.  

Its election day. 

While you hadn’t given up your senate seat yet, it was something you were willing to do if the right opportunity presented itself. Say, being the President of the United States.  

But first, you needed to be elected there. You were back in California, awaiting for the results. Votes were being tally, the electoral college was making its decision and all you could do was wait.  

Which is not the easiest thing to do.  

Chris had been on the phone with his ASP team, checking results in major battleground states, counts on issues that were concerning to younger Americans. Every time he looked up to you, he would you a smile and mouth “i love you” to try and calm your nerves. Three years of this and he knew how to calm your nerves.  

The campaign had been hard, a woman running against an older, backward thinking man. The scandal of the car photos came back into play but your opponents own philandering with a woman not his wife, nullified that right away.  You had no secrets, other than your relationship with Chris.  You were caareful to only show what you wanted to the public to know.  Chris was or rather still is a famous movie star. He may have slowed down his films but he was never not working. ASP was his pride and joy, besides you, and it relected on how much the platform grew.  

It was nearing 8pm in California and the states were starting to be called. Every political forecaster predicted this race to be the tightest its ever seen. No one expected you to receive the nomination.  No one expected to make it this far. No one believe. Except Chris.  

He believed in you.  

You can feel him right behind you before he wraps his arms around you.  “Did you ever imagine being here Senator?” 

You shake your head. “I imagined a lot of things. I had dreams. But, to do this with you, now,” you look up at him, “I never imagined it like this.”  

For hours, you and. your family stood around, watching results. Chris mentioned that you should rest but you were too keyed up to lie down or even sit down. Hour after hour passed and the race was down to the final couple of states. Then the news anchor interrupted the talking heads on the news.  

“We are now prepared to make the call in Oregon. This evening has been historic in so many ways. But now we are ready to declare Oregon for...” 

Clack.  

Clack.  

Clack.  

Your heels clicked on the floor as you walked to your destiny. You assumed it would be hard, to run for president. To deal with the fall out. Your opponent had been cordial in his speech. He talked about uniting the country and not letting politics create a divide.  He was right, the country had to come together now and move forward.  

Chris POV 

Watching my girl waiting to be taken to her seat for the ceremony, it was heart wrenching.  She was so stoic and unnaturally quiet. She had on a beautiful red dress with white accents and her coat was the same blue as the american flag. She had been so brave through all of this. She kept her head up and was gracious. The embodiment of class.  She just had one more thing to do before we could move forward.  

“Are you ready, sweetheart?” 

“I’m scared,” she whispered.  

“Don’t be.  I’m right here.” I took her hand and we were walked to our seats. The ceremony was beautiful in the cold January air.  We listened to the poet laureate and the national anthem done by Taylor Swift. But then it was our cue, to do the part of the ceremony as instructed by the head of the inguration committee.  I smiled as I held out the bible, open to her favorite passage.  

I watched as my girl placed her hand on the bible and then raised her right hand.  

I, YN YMN Evans, do solemnly swear that I will faithfully execute the Office of President of the United States, and will to the best of my Ability, preserve, protect and defend the Constitution of the United States. So help me God.” 

The roar of the crowd sounded as she finished her oath. I leaned over to kiss my wife, my president. “Congratulation, madam President.”  

“Ladies and Gentlemen, presenting the new President of the United States and new First Gentleman, YN and Chris Evans!” 

Walking out to the inagural ball is surreal. This was our life now for the next four years. But I wouldn’t change it for the world.  As Harry Styles sang Adore You for us again, I held my wife in my arms. “Did you count on this, madam President.” 

She frowned for a second. “I don’t know if i like you callng me that. But no,” she smiled. “I was only counting on you.”  

“You can always count on me, love. Count on it forever.”  

“Just as long as I’m still your forever.”  She sighed as she leaned against me.  “Still not sure about the madam president thing.” 

“How about in public, you are madam President, but in private,” I spin her around and draw her close again, “you’ll always be my little senator.” 

taglist

@patzammit

@texmexdarling

@slutforchrisjamalevans

@firephotogrl74

@tinkerbelle67

@before-we-get-started

@bunnyforhim

@alexakeyloveloki

@sunnyhummingbee

@whiskeytangofoxtrot555

@peaceinourtime82

@saucy-sassy-sparkly

@kmc1989

@kandis-mom

@lokislady82

[respectthepetty]

Hi RTP! What are the BLs you would recommend solely for the colors? 🌈

Anon, before I answer this great ask, I want to highlight other posts I've written that are slightly similar:

Reading the (Visual) Rainbow Awards 2023

Overall Winner - Kiseki: Dear to Me

Top Five - Color-Coded Storytelling in BLs

Honorable Mention: Oh No! Here Comes Trouble

5) Moonlight Chicken

4) My Beautiful Man

3) My Love Mix Up

2) Semantic Error

1) Big Dragon

Top Five Color Moments of 2023

Honorable Mention: 7 Days Before Valentine

5) GAP

4) Bed Friend

3) Last Twilight

2) Moonlight Chicken

1) The Eighth Sense

Bonus: Jeff Satur x SHAUN's "Steal the Show"

I don't want to repeat any of the shows I picked, and I'm trying to pick more recent ones so people can find them if they want to watch them, but per your ask, I'm recommending them based solely on colors regardless of how much I liked them.

Recommended Colorful BLs

Honorable Mention: Intern in My Heart

The show is not finished, and it's not a BL, yet it is doing everything right, which is why it gets the honorable mention. Great (Grey) is coded black/dark in the show, and Top is coded pink/light. They are supporting characters who are best friends, and they have stuck to their colors throughout, but in the last episode, they *almost* exchanged colors after Top revealed that he liked Great. Now I'm praying to all the saints for a full color exchange in the finale like I have a personal stake in this because I do! I'm invested, and it better not disappoint me.

#5 - One Room Angel

When I write "Heavenly Human" for a character who wears white, and "Black Brooder" for a character who wears black, THIS is what I mean. A story about an actual angel and a guy who wanted to die was the perfect place to use the light x dark dynamic. However, calling this show a BL is troublesome, which is why it's number five. It still is a great example of what the light x dark color scheme should be used for, and in the end, the guy who wanted to die is much lighter in mood and color, which is what the colors are all about.

#4 - Why R U? (Korea)

First and foremost, that kiss was LIT! The Thai version had Tutor and Fighter's high heat, which could never be matched, but Korea had that kiss, and it ate! But on top of that, it had colors! Ji Oh was a Black Brooder while Lee Won was a Multicolored Menace, and right after this kiss, they flipped colors. That's right! After five episodes of being enemies, they made out for acting "reasons," and then exchanged colors. Normally, Korea is all about the feelings, so the color exchanges in Korean BLs align with a character's feelings changing, but this one directly correlated with a kiss. And for emphasis - That kiss was fire!

#3 - Secret Crush on You

Destiny Seeker might have won the 2023 award for best group effort in color coding, but Secret Crush on You set the bar for that award the year before. This show is Color-Coding 101. Each character has a color, and by each, I mean each and every single damn character in a cast of eleven (plus three fairy godmothers) has their own color. That is a ridiculous feat! Wardrobe, props, and lighting deserved a raise for this show. Some shows can't even get consistent color coding when it only has two characters, but this show understood the color-coding group assignment for the entire series! I'm still applauding two years later.

#2 - Stay by My Side

Taiwanese BLs are my vice. Even the worst Taiwanese BL will still be better than the rest of these BLs. I WROTE WHAT I WROTE. So, of course, I liked this show beyond color reasons, but the colors greatly helped me enjoy the show even more. We had a guy who was haunted by ghosts. He was colorful and light coded. Then we had his roommate who could magically keep the ghosts away. He was dark coded. Read it again. The guy being haunted was bright, light, and colorful, while the guy with the power to help was dark. GENIUS! It was Mr. Unlucky Has No Choice but to Kiss with a supernatural twist. The dark coded guy is sad and isolated but the one who is being HAUNTED BY GHOSTS brings life to his world! Give me a minute. I'm still not over it.

#1 - Pit Babe

I watched this show muted and without subtitles, yet the colors guided me through all thirteen episodes. I understood the plot perfectly because of the colors, and only became confused when people tried to tell me about the actual plot. Alpha? Omega? Santa Maria? Wasn't important. Didn't matter. I don't know them. Red and Blue were the main characters here, and they did their damn job. Babe, in his black, was his own man. He wasn't trying to fit in, but every time the red light focused on Charlie and Way, I was screaming for Babe to run because the colors told me they were still tied to Tony BECAUSE THEY WERE! That's elite color coding, and it ushered in a whole new way for me to watch a show. I loved it.

Bonus: Old Fashion Cupcake

I love this show which is why it is a bonus. Unlike the other shows where I had issues with some part of the plot, Old Fashion Cupcake is as close to perfect as any show has ever come in my personal rating system. It is an Advanced Color Coding course only offered for graduate students, which, honestly, is very Japanese of it because it was in the ties. The color coding showed up in other ways, but the ties were where the story lived since in the past, Nozue was a bright red, but we saw his red damper in the present, which made his loyal assistant bluer. It was only five episodes, yet it used every second of those five episodes in every single way to propel the story forward, colors included. Actually, let me go rewatch this for the hundredth time instead of just writing about it!

[harlowsbby]

Jack forgetting it’s Valentine’s days and he’s out all day working and y/n been mentioning it all the things she’s gonna do like dinner but he forgot or ir came in one ear and out the other he gets home really late after irban mention it’s Valentine’s Day and it’s late already so he rushes home to see the reader dried tears sleeping in her lingerie while waiting for jack ending how ever you want

Valentines Blues 💘

It was your first ever Valentines Day with Jack and of course you were beyond thrilled and excited you’ve been planning on things you were going to do a week before Valentine’s Day came around.

You woke up that morning before Jack so you were able to make him a big breakfast he was supposed to be going to the studio today but he’d be back just in time for dinner.

“You’re really going all out for Jack aren’t you?” Your friend Khloe asked as she set down some flowers you had gotten for decoration.

“Well it is our first ever Valentine’s together so I have to make sure everything is perfect for him.” You we’re literally on edge everything had to be perfect or you weren’t going to be happy.

“Do you need anything else before I leave?.” You looked around one last time before shaking your head no. You gave Khloe a quick hug before she left.

You began to make waffles and bacon for Jack he wasn’t really a big breakfast type of person so you didn’t really go out for his breakfast. You just finished putting the final touches on his plate when he came walking around the corner.

“Good morning baby girl.” He mumbled and stretched before rubbing the crust out of the corner of his eyes.

“Good morning Jack, how did you sleep.” Walking over to him you took his hand and led him to the table and set his plate in front of him as well as his orange juice. “I slept good baby, what’s all this for?” He licked his lips.

“I just wanted to do something special for you is all especially since you work so hard.” “Well I appreciate it very much baby thank you.” You both ate in silence for the rest of the breakfast. Once you finished you collected your plates and did the dishes before meeting Jack in the living room.

You took out your phone and opened up Instagram and smiled seeing all of your friends being posted by their boyfriends and girlfriends and them doing the same but your smile soon enough turned into a frown, you knew Jack wasn’t that big on pda but a story of you or something would’ve been nice to have seen.

“Why are you all frowns over there baby?” Looking up that’s when you noticed Jack was dressed and ready for the studio. You didn’t want to be a nag today or seem like you were complaining it was the day of love not the day of drama.

It ran across your head that maybe Jack forget it was Valentines Day but there was no way he could’ve because you talked about it non stop last week.

“Oh nothing I just saw a sad video of some puppy being lost but he found his family.” You lied and prayed Jack would fall for it because he was able to tell if you were lying.

“Well stop looking at stuff like that baby you know how sensitive you can be.” He teased, rolling your eyes playfully you helped him organize his folder he had filled with lyrics.

“You’ll be home for dinner right? I’m making homemade macaroni with salmon and some greens and for dessert homemade ice cream.” He licked his lips at the thought of homemade ice cream.

“I’ll be home tonight baby I promise, I love you and I’ll see you soon.” He bent down and gave you a quick little kiss before leaving and the moment the door closed you got to work right away.

You put the macaroni in first since it was obviously going to take a minute and then you got started on the greens, before you knew it the time was now 4pm and Jack said he’d be back by 7 so it gave you time to clean up and get ready.

At the studio

Jack was getting frustrated the pile of crumbled up lyric sheets on the floor was obviously the reason why but he wasn’t the only one annoyed.

“Jack, why don’t we call it a wrap man I mean it’s getting late and I’m tired and I’m hungry.” Urban complained as he paced around the studio trying his best to stay awake.

“Urban I’m almost done stop complaining.” Neelam looked down at her phone seeing it was now 5 minute till 10pm. “It’s literally almost 10 and we’ve been at this since 8am this morning we’re done for the day Jack.” Neelam was just as exhausted as Jack and she knew how much being in the studio and getting songs done meant to him but she was tired and wanted to be with her man.

“Dude I’m surprised you didn’t have anything planned with Y/N today like how did she even left you out the house.” Sunni asked, Jack looked at him as if he had three heads. “What are you on about Sunni? She’s my girl and all but she doesn’t own me.”

“What? It’s Valentines Day don’t tell me you forgot.” Sunni said making Jack almost immediately stop in his tracks. “You forgot it was Valentine’s Day? Oooo she’s definitely making sure you sleep on that couch till you’re 75.” Urban and Sunni joked.

“Fuck that’s why last week she kept going on and on about some dinner fuck I totally messed up big time.” Jack literally hated himself in that moment he knew there was no way you were about to forgive him. “Good luck Jack you’re gonna need it.” Sunni laughed with Urban but the two of them instantly shut up when Neelam glared at them.

The entire ride back home all Jack could think about was you he just knew you were going to hate him and you had every right to, this dinner was special to you especially since you spent hours with Maggie trying to make sure everything turned out right and you spent all your hard owned money on groceries.

He barley had time to shut his car door before he was speeding inside the house, his heart was pulling at sleeve when he saw all the millions of flowed peddles you had laid out in the living room that spread to the kitchen as well as the once lit white candles, you even had heart balloons floating on the ceilings.

“Oh baby.” He said sadly and made his way to the kitchen where he saw you sleeping on the chair with tears stained on your cheeks. The dinner you spent hours on laid untouched on the counter which meant you were waiting for him to come home.

You had your silk robe tied around you tightly and underneath was one of Jack’s favorite lingerie pieces you had owned.

“Baby” He shook you gently and you woke up slowly. “Jack?” You said sleepy “Baby, fuck I’m so sorry I feel like such an asshole i completely forgot it was Valentines Day today and I’m so sorry baby girl. Can you please forgive me?”

“I spent hours on this dinner Jack I waisted all my time and energy on tonight just for you to not even show up and I don’t see how you can forget when I told you about it all last week.” You were no longer tired all the tiredness completely left your body.

“I’m sorry Y/N, please forgive me.” He begged but you weren’t falling for it you understood his schedule got busy at times but not listening to you nor even putting you as a priority was your last straw.

“Just saying please isn’t going to cut it this time Jack. I think we need some time apart for a bit clearly you have several things on your plate and I don’t want to interfere with any of it.” Your voice cracked as you spoke.

“So what are you saying?” You sighed deeply and hugged yourself tighter and looked up at him. Jack had this fear in his eyes like he knew what you were going to say but didn’t want to come to the realization of it.

“I’m saying that you need to find somewhere else to say for a few days.” You bit your lip as it began to tremble. “Please Y/N let’s just talk about this baby please.” He tried to approach you but you stepped back making him stop.

“Just go Jack I don’t have anything else to say.” You whispered, he nodded and got his car keys before leaving out the door. The minute he did you instantly started crying. All you wanted to do was spend a day with Jack but you had no idea you came second to last.

Taglist

@heavyhitterheaux @hoodharlow

@nattinatalia @a-moment-captured

@awhore4moree @moody4world

@softtcurse @jackharloww

@jacksmoviestar @jackmans-poison

@lcandothisallday

[fiannalover]

Fate Fic Recs

Because I read a lot of fics and am always rolling that ao3 gacha, so I felt like sharing a non exhaustive rec list under read more. Feel free to reblog and add more!

past the lingering smoke - Kadoc-senpai is best senpai! Post-ID. Hurt/Comfort.

For Want Of A Relic - Fate/Zero Servant Swap AU where Waver gets Diarmuid and everyone else swaps around too. The resulting team-ups are honestly delicious and you get very good Diarmuid out of it. The writer came back after 4 years of hiatus to finish the fic and write sequels, go give them a round of applause!

Fragments of Chaldea - stares directly at the camera

Café of the round - Reincarnation AU Coffee Shop. The Main Round Tale reincarnate within the Fate Universe and get together to own a coffee shop, meeting and remeeting other nasuvere people along the way.

AND GUINIVERE IS THEEEEEERE!!!!! 🎉🎉🎉 yaaaaaaaaaay

Multiple Case Studies of the Strange Concept of Love - a Servant is summoned to Chaldea, and spends her days looking at the romantic couples within it and analyzing the emotions she feels. Once you learn who is the main character you'll start crying. Also, RamaSita, yay!

Sunset Cocktail - BediGudao Valentine’s day fic. Bedivere saves Gudao from stalker of the day, takes him to Moriarty’s bar, on Moriarty’s suggestion. Bedivere regrets his trusting of shifty old men from the word go, more at 11.

a planet between your teeth - Drabble. The god asks if the fairy wants to eat him.

what name is there for what we have done? - Post-LB6 Fic where Mordred is, quite frankly, blowing up after Morgan and Baobhan are summoned to Chaldea, specially with how much the former looks like him. This takes him to Bedivere’s room. Hurt/Comfort, amazing Bedivere, amazing Round Table dynamic (author uses he/him for Mordred)

vignette 50 - Sieg & Guda farming at New York Event. Cute. Cute. Cute. CUTE! def a fic to read to warm up cozily at the end of the day, I get cuteness giggles everytime I read it.

Taste-testing - CharlieGudao baking fic. Pure, unaltered fluff. Charlie lays the sugar Thick.

Conversation by the bus stop - Bedivere talks to a fairy who is not there

But we stay silly - GudaCas. Guda shocks Artoria out of dissociation by barking like a dog. Adorable. I SWEAR this is cute. Trust me.

Sign here - Modern AU GudaCas stuff following on that part of the chocolate competition where Cnoc says the winner will marry Ritsuka. A lovely comedy drabble that will Not tear your heart apart at the last second, unlike fics made by other authors who followed up on that scene.

遅くの成人の日 (救った世界が必ず貴方を救ったくれる、どんな形でもそれは貴方にきっと届く） - I can only pray the title formatted well. Summer event fic of Ritsuka dealing gwith how long she has been at this, and the acceptance of her own aging.

And Thus Did The Leaves Fall - BediArthur. Bedivere as Arthur dies.

Look at me - GudakoBarth. Gudako, Bartholomew, their feelings for one another and how much one needs to fit another’s type.

She did not want to die - NitoSche fic and character exploration. Amazing Sche character exploration, accompanied by an equally amazing Nitocris POV version of the fic in Act As A Pharaoh. If you like either girl, you HAVE to read it.

Have I Made You Sad, Mom? - Post-LB6 Morgan has been summoned to Chaldea. Baobhan hasn’t arrived yet.

(Free from) Sin - Morgan!Aesc, Aesc!Morgan, and the many times she felt love, wretched, cursed love.

Atonement - Ritsuka going through therapy and readjusting to a normal life post-lostbelt, as the voices of all her Servants remain ringing in her ears.

Your heart in my mouth, bitter on the tongue - MashMorgan. Mash confesses, Morgan vaguely remembers what emotions are. I do love a good rule of three emotional discussion fic.

Bridal Ox - Asterios goes to Habetrot’s workshop to ask for a dress

Taking the bit (heh) to its natural conclusion - Modern AU GudaCas. Guda is face blind, Caster needs someone to help her run away from the cops.

the odds don’t look far - Avicebron and David bonding over being the only jewish Servants in Chaldea (and, post-Part 1, the staff as a whole).

[heartfullofleeches]

Pls I must know how mono celebrates Valentine’s Day with their beloved

[Val-en-tine's Day? Hm, I'm afraid I do not have information on this holiday in my data. Must have slipped my mind while I was doing research on your planet. My apologies, starlight.]

Mono twists back around in their seat to face their workspace, leaving the gift you brought them untouched.

[Please return to your chair. We will be landing momentarily. I need to grab some minerals from this planet and once I am finished I can make up for my error.]

Saddened, but understanding, you slump back down in the co-pilot seat. The monitor above your chair had been malfunctioning during the day, so you had no visuals on the planet as the ship floated into orbit. Heading to the bridge, Mono is unusually quiet. Their singular eye wanders in your direction before immediately looking elsewhere when you stare back. The only time it lingers is when they're pulling you away from the windows. Stepping out into the forgien landscape, you lay witness to the reason for their odd behavior.

You landed in some sort of open valley. Grayish blue mountains off in the distance and abnormal flora at your feet. The flowers vibrated with eye catching and transdimensional hues, small clusters of colors softly overlaying each passing ray. The sky is without filter, the tree tops peeling away to make room for the space you have traveled lightyears through by now. Other planets orbit round the one you inhabit, stars so clear you can almost touch them. The one thing both out of scene and the final touch to it was a picnic blanket in the middle of the field.

Mono adjusts a bow tie around their neck as you look up at them.

[Apologies for the ruse, starling. That blasted a.i tends to call me a "stick in the mud" when it is online. Looking back, I feel it may have been cruel, but I pray this will make up for it.]

As they speak stars rain from the sky. As they crash into the distant mountains bright sparks shoot off them like fireworks in the night, kissing the heavens in a luminescent glow.

[This is a place I discovered early on in my travels. It is a beautiful feat, but nowhere near as charming as you, my dear. The sparks are comparable to the flames within my heart whenever you grace me with your voice and touch. I love you more than there are stars in the galaxy, Starlight - Happy Valentine's day.]

[sirthisisa-wendys]

Hi! If the Valentine Event is still open can I ask for something nsfw with Mikey? Maybe with them being good friends who decide to spend the valentine's together so that they have a excuse to turn other insistent suitors down (after all it's not like they've been pinning for each other for years and are just to thick to have noticed that.)

OMG I LOVE THIS

Finish Last: Manjiro Sano x Fem!Reader

wc: 1.3k

tw: smut

Valentine's Day Event Masterlist

Main TR Masterlist

Zzz, zzz, zzz.

Mikey looks up at his phone as he lays on the couch, his head resting neatly in your lap.

"Another text." His mutter goes practically unnoticed as you sip your soda, eyes on the game in front of you.

"Just tell her to fuck off. You're hanging out with friends."

"Yeah," Mikey mumbles, hitting the power button on his phone before tossing it aside. "I don't get it. I've literally told this girl I'm not interested seven thousand times."

"Some people are just dense," you reply mindlessly. "Like 'Omi. He's denser than a can of dark matter." Mikey snorts, closing his eyes and clutching at his stomach.

"He's still hitting you up?"

"Like a club promoter." Mikey shakes his black-haired head in surprise.

"When will he get the hint?"

"Maybe when your girl gets the hint." You both sober up slowly, wiping tears of laughter from your eyes as the game continues. You lean back and adjust your controller, praying that Mikey wouldn't move his head from its comfortable position. It's silent - save the occasional sound effect from the TV - but you're fine just like this.

It's always been you and Mikey hanging out on Valentine's Day, ignoring others in favor of platonically spending time together. Well, not so platonic on your end, but it was for him. And you weren't in the business of ruining that.

"What'd you think we should do next year?" Mikey wonders, sitting up suddenly. "We could go to the movies or amusement parks."

"Or we could just hang out like always." You pause the game, looking over at him quizzically. "You tired of staying in or..."

Mikey shakes his head quickly. "I'm just trying to make sure you're not bored. We can have fun during this escape, you know?"

"What, and be caught with a literal celebrity out and about? What will the tabloids say?"

"Who cares?" Mikey chuckles, standing and placing his hands in his pockets. "It's not like I can't pay them off." He walks around the couch toward the kitchen, and your eyes follow his every move. "You want some more soda?" Mikey wonders, pulling open the fridge.

"I'm good." Mikey returns moments later with his own soda and a bowl of ice cream, setting it down on the coffee table before sitting next to you. "Hey, you didn't say you were getting ice cream!"

"I thought we'd share," Mikey offers, cracking open the soda can and pouring it into the bowl. "It's like a rootbeer float." He offers you one spoon and takes his own, and both of you begin to taste-test the dessert.

"This is good." Mikey hums, holding the bowl in one hand while you scoop out another bite. "Really good."

"I usually do this when I'm lazy, but I thought I'd share the sauce. Just this once."

"You're oh-so-kind, Manjiro." He laughs at your use of his full name, leaning ever so close to you. You try to keep from blushing as he eats the coke float.

"I have been told I'm a 'nice guy.'"

"But you don't lose your races," you retort, holding your spoon aloft.

"What's that have to do with anything?"

"Don't nice guys finish last?"

Mikey's eyes light up at the joke you've made, and he leans forward even more, his voice dropping to a whisper. "Now, you tell me. Do nice guys finish last?"

"I don't know..." You smirk. "I'd have to test the theory out myself." Mikey sets the ice cream aside as you both lean into a kiss, your hands finding his short hair and his hands cradling your waist.

"You have no idea how long I've wanted to do that," Mikey hisses, brows furrowed as he pulls away. "Y/n, I..."

"Shh," you urge him, placing a finger on his lips. "Just kiss me again." Mikey obliges unflinchingly, pressing his lips to yours and climbing on top of you on the couch. His lips move from your lips to your neck and down to your chest, where he harshly sucks your skin a few times to leave love marks.

He returns to kissing you once more, threading his fingers around your hips and back, grabbing your flesh with eager hands. "I want you," he breathes into your ear, but you hesitate, placing your hands on his chest.

"Should we do this?" Your question snaps Mikey back into the present, and while his hands don't relax around your waist, they do twitch a little.

"Only if you want to." You're unsure how to answer, praying you wouldn't ruin a perfect friendship with your desires. "We can always go back to being friends if you want. We can pretend like this never happened."

"I don't want that," you murmur and kiss him once more.

Mikey doesn't waste time with formalities, and neither do you. He's not your first, but as he undoes his belt and shucks his pants off, you pray he'll be your last.

"We should get off this couch," he whispers in your ear, getting off of you and holding a hand out. "I think we'd both be comfier on the bed."

You take his hand and walk with him to the bedroom, part of you nervous but the other part excited. How long had you dreamt of something like this? Something so perfect and natural and right?

Mikey lays you across the mattress and spreads your legs apart after taking off your sweatpants. He takes his sweet time sliding your underwear off, then probes your cunt with two fingers.

"You're so fucking wet..."

"Only for you," you admit, and Mikey shudders, letting his fingers sink into your cunt fully. You grip the sheets as you surrender to his touch, letting him guide you toward endless pleasure. As you moan, your hips roll up and down to meet your needs, and his fingers glide against your g-spot with ease.

"Feels good, baby girl?"

"Feels so good," you groan, reaching down to rub at your clit. Mikey hisses at the sight, his cock twitching in his boxers.

"I might cum just watching you..." With a free hand, Mikey reaches into his underwear and fishes out his cock, fisting it methodically. You pant eagerly, praying he will take his fingers out and press against your weeping hole with his veiny dick. But Mikey takes his time preparing you and keeping himself on the brink of oblivion.

"Let me know when you're ready," he urges you, and you nod rapidly, whispering,

"Please, fuck me, Manjiro, please."

"Little boys fuck," he states simply. "Grown men make love." Mikey peels off his underwear and puts your legs on his shoulders, pressing his weight down as his cock sinks into you.

"Mikey, Mikey, Mikey," you whine, grabbing at his t-shirt.

"Say my name like that," Mikey grumbles. "Say my name again."

"Mikey, Mikey, Mikey..." His eyes roll into the back of his head, and something in him breaks. His face goes from lovesick to untamed in the blink of an eye, and your hips bounce off of the mattress to follow his deep thrusts.

He folds you into a deep mating press, his senses telling him to mark you as his for the rest of time. And you feel the purpose in his lovemaking, each stroke knocking the breath out of you as he leans down to litter kisses on your face, your calves, your ankles.

"I'm gonna cum, babe; I'm gonna cum so hard," you warn, but Mikey doesn't seem to mind. He watches your face contort into one of deep pleasure, your mouth open and delivering soft curses as you reach your climax.

"Good girl, good girl..." You're not sure where you end or where Mikey begins, but as he cums, he's holding you against him and huffing softly. You both wait a little before he speaks, his hands still attached to your skin.

"See, nice guys do finish last," he murmurs, and you both laugh heartily.

[crispy-bonnie]

HI IT'S ME MWAH MWAH (/P)

- Okay anyways-

- I read your thing about flirtatious s/o, and was like 😳->😏

- Idk if this goes against the rules bc it is limey so (if it is just lmk and delet)

- Can we get uhm.... Jacket, Sokol, Houston, Dallas and for absolutely no reason Dozer for this?

- So can we get a situation where Reader and him have to (for random plot reasons) hide in a tight spot??? Like a locker or something

- This is during/just after a fight so Reader's preeeetty tired

- So they just rest their head on him

- And he's trying so hard not to... not to have.... UHHHHHH-

- I hope you know where this is going???

- (He's trying not to wiener)

yeah this is chill with me ! if i ever write overly spicy stuff , then you'll most likely find it on my alt that's dedicated to the juicy stuff . also no i'm not giving the tag for said alt lmao also , this post in particular is VERY long and took me fucking forever to finish . my writing clearly started to deteriorate towards the end LMAO . consider this a valentine's day special lol i'll be making a special cut of this on my side blog once i get my requests done so stay tuned for that ig

!! SUGGESTIVE CONTENT + CLAUSTROPHOBIA UNDER THE CUT . PLEASE BE ADVISED !!

Tight Spot - PAYDAY + DOZER X READER MULTISHOT

Dallas

Despite such a quiet heist, it was still one of exhaustion. Having to worry about the guards, running past civilians and praying that they don't see you, it's draining. Luckily, a fellow heister volunteered to stealth it with you, making the experience a tad bit easier.

You and Dallas were tasked with tagging a truck with a GPS tracking device whilst the other two heisters, Houston and Hoxton, stayed behind. This truck contained voting machines that you two have to hack, but none of the trucks were labeled, therefore you had to find clues on which ones had the things you needed. The two of you were tucked in a shipping container, waiting for guards to pass while looking through the boxes to see if there was anything indicating the right or wrong truck.

"D-Dallas...? Can we take a quick breather..?" You huffed, your legs cramped from crouching and your body coated in sweat from all the running and sneaking about. Despite the container being so large, the two of you could barely squeeze yourselves inside, as there were boxes packed rather tightly inside. Your legs were entangled in his, both of your torsos just mere centimeters away. You were panting heavily, the tight space making it harder to gather oxygen.

"Sure..are you alri-" He was cut off as you leaned forward, your head now resting on his shoulder as your arms wrapped around his waist. Dallas could feel his face heating up from underneath his mask, but not because of the awkward atmosphere. He stared down at your heavily breating form attempting to gulp down the words that were stuck in his throat.

You were brought out of your heated daze when you heard Dallas groaning softly, in which you pulled back ever so slightly to face him. He had one of his hands pressed against the boxes whilst the other was holding up his mask. You could feel his legs shaking ever so slightly as he tried to curb the attempts to buck his hips towards yours.

"Are you okay?" You hummed, bringing your hand up to his and moving his mask off of his face so you could make sure that he wasn't dying underneath it. However, just as you unveiled his lips, both of his hands shot up to grab your mask, ripping it off before slamming his lips against yours.

The scent of cigarette smoke and his freshly ironed suit filled your nose, the bitter sensation of nicotine and the sweet taste of him now in your mouth as his tongue pressed against yours. Your eyes fluttered shut, now resting your hands on his shoulders to pull him closer. Time seemed to slow, everything melting away as you focused on him and only him. Not even the sounds of gunshots or the bickering of the other two heisters outside pulled you out of the trance that the two of you were stuck in.

Let's hope the others don't find you two in that shipping container...

Houston

It was a quiet night. The only sounds heard being rain drops tapping softly against the window and the chatter among the attendees of the auction. As much as the gang wanted to try to place bids on the artifact being auctioned off, they knew that it would take a big chunk out of their vault, and it would most certainly not be a guarantee of even getting it. The criminals instead opted for attempting to steal the item. After all, it was one of the many things they were good at.

Ears sharp and eyes peeled, you crawled down the halls as fast as possible, making sure to keep yourself out of sight from the guards and cameras that littered the building. Houston followed behind, keeping an eye out for anyone approaching. The two of you thought you were safe, but the sound of a gun unholstering and a voice shouting at you two brought you two to a halt.

Turning around to face the guard, he glared the both of you down for a good few seconds. He proceeded to fish his radio out of his pocket, but you had whipped your gun out to shoot it to bits before he could say anything. Next thing you knew, unsilenced gunshots had been fired from the guard's gun, now alerting others. The crowd below was now startled, spooked whispers and gasps echoing from the crowd. The sounds of these sent panic into you, making you directly headshot the guard before grabbing Houston by the wrist and pulling him away.

You shoved yourself and Houston into a storage closet, shutting the door behind you as the alarms started to blare from outside. The closet was unfortunately very tight, but it was the only hiding spot available so that you could wait for the rest of the crew to arrive and save you from this mess. Your hands left the doorknob just after you locked it, letting out a huff of relief before leaning your shocked form against the wall.

"I'm sorry I-"

"No it's okay, it's okay. We didn't know he'd be there." Houston sighed, placing his hand on your shoulder before pulling you close. You took a minute to process what was going on, the sirens, the screaming, and soon the warm embrace that you found yourself in. He continued to whisper reassurings into your ear as he let you relax into him.

A few minutes in, you could hear Houston muttering your name ever so softly. Almost like he was trying to get your attention. You pulled back, looking into his now half-lidded eyes before asking: "Are you okay..?"

"Sorry I just- m- my- ngh..~" Houston pulled his hands away from your waist, bringing one up to his mask and the other down to his pants, the other now gripping onto his belt desperately. He moved his mask off to wipe away some of the sweat that was coating his forehead. Your face flushed red once your eyes trailed down to his crotch, his current behavior finally making sense to you. 

"We should- sh-should get back to the missio-" He went back to pull his mask back on, but you brought your hand up to stop his, soon pulling it away to swipe your mask off and let it clatter to the ground. "No no..." You hummed, your face now inches away from his. The red on his face became brighter as you grabbed at his pants, pulling at them ever so slightly. "Let's take care of your little friend here first~"

Sokol

It was an intense battle. The constant bangs and pops of guns firing, screams of the cops that were being mercilessly shot down as well as the heisters' demands for things like coolant for the drill or to reboot the power, and most importantly, the earpiercing sound of the giant drill burning its way into the glass flooring that blocked the criminals from the stacks upon stacks of cash that they were after.

"SOKOL!" His name erupted from your throat as you fired your weapon at the horde of cops that continued to try to get to the both of you. Your body armor was sparing you of the bleeding you would've had to endure if you didn't have it, but it still hurt regardless. "We're under heavy fire here!"

"БЛИН- I KNOW!" The Russian cursed loudly, also trying to fend off the swarms of cops. Wave after wave, they just kept coming. It was like there was no break to it. You were starting to get exhausted and your armor was starting to deteriorate under its constant abuse, struggling to reload fast enough to be able to continue shooting cops down. You whipped around to face Sokol, but you could only catch the faint image of him grabbing you by the wrist and running through a doorway.

It was a blur, especially with how fast he was running, but soon you finally processed that you two were in a locker room. You could hear the heavy boots of the various cops stampeding their way down the stairs. Within a matter of seconds, you found yourself and the Russian heister now stuffed into a locker, the both of you dead quiet as you two waited for the cops to pass.

It felt like forever until you heard the footsteps of those pesky cops started to fade away, in which you finally managed to take a deep breath before finally leaning against the wall a little more. You looked up at Sokol within the dark confines of the metal locker you two had been stuffed in. It was only when you glanced to the side when you realized that he had both his hands firmly planted next to your head, effectively pinning you within the locker.

Blinking a few times, you focused your gaze back on him, realizing that his mask had been shoved out of its place, now showing a good portion of his face. You could see his platinum eyes glinting at you with an almost feral intent, his hair scattered and no longer its in slicked back state. From what you could see with the little light provided, his sweat-coated face was dusted pink, his jaw hanging slightly as be panted harshly.

"You know..." He started, his voice low as if he were growling, bringing his left hand away from your head only to rip his mask off, as well as yours. He proceeded to grip your chin and pull you close, nearly closing the gap between your lips and his. "The drill has quite a long time before it's done, no?"

You could feel the heat rushing to your face and down to your crotch because of his behavior, letting out a small whimper as he left a soft kiss on your lips. The hardness in his pants was pressed against your thigh, his hips moving ever so slightly and bringing friction between the two surfaces. Sokol leaned into your ear, nibbling at your earlobe gently before purring:

"Why don't we... pass the time... милый?"

Jacket

Jacket wasn't very fond of stealth, and neither were you. Of course, Bain made the two of you go on this heist anyway. Why? Who knows, and you honestly couldn't care less. You just wanted to get the heist over and done with.

The two of you were infiltrating the GenSec arena, in which there was vault that was in need of cracking. There was a concert going on for a musician going by the name 'Alesso'. The music was bumping from the stage itself, so loud that the two of you could hear it whilst in the halls behind the concessions.

You had to find the C4 that was marked in some of the storage closets, said closets being marked with a red X. However, what the two of you didn't know was that there were going to be a few guards patrolling this area. You currently had some of your lockpicking equipment out, desperately trying to get the reinforced door open. You could feel Jacket nudging at you, knowing that there was a guard nearly.

Just before the guard could even get a proper glance of the two of you, you managed to get the storage closet open, soon getting pushed inside by Jacket as faster than a lightning bolt. He quickly kicked the door closed, hearing the lock you had just picked click as the metal door slammed shut.

"That..." You breathed, your chest rising and falling harshly as you found yourself staring into the beady eyes of Jacket's mask. "That was close...huh?"

You attempted to push yourself up, only to realize that Jacket had both of your wrists pinned to the cold concrete floor. Letting out a quick chuckle as to try and make the situation a little less awkward, you attempted to get up once more.

"J-Jacket...? I think- I think we're safe now-" It only took a few seconds before you found both your mask and Jacket's thrown to the side, the lack of his mask now revealing his reddened face and almost feral expression. His eyes stared into yours with a feverish yet lucid glow, his face starting to inch closer and closer to yours. "Jacket what are you-"

You were cut off as he rammed his chapped lips against your own, his kiss animalistic and rough in nature. It was only after he pulled away when he realized what he did, his grip weakening and his eyes widening. Jacket was about to reach for his tape recorder, but you stopped him, your voice weak but words clear as day:

"K-keep going~"

Dozer

"Damn it, FALL BACK! NOW!" You could hear Captain Winters screaming the demand into the radio, causing you to nearly panic, more so that you already are. You knew the Payday gang would put up a fight, but if Captain Winters himself was telling units to fall back, then you know something was wrong. You glanced up at your fellow colleague, a Skulldozer that you were good friends with, who was just shooting down an unfortunately no longer fellow cop. You would be gloomy about the fact, but you had no time for that, as the two of you were on the fourth floor and in immediate danger.

You were just about to whisper to him about the Captain's demands, but when you felt a bullet just barely graze your armor, your attention was pulled away. You focused your gaze in front of you, now seeing one of the masked criminals with a submachine gun slowly approaching you. Your face paled upon the sight, now frantically looking for a way out. You caught a glance of what the Dozer was facing, and much to your dismay, you found that the both of you were being closed in on by two of the clown-faced criminals.

Squeezing your eyes shut and ready to accept your fate, you were pulled out of your trance of fear, as well as being pulled out of the hall the two of you were in and into a room. It was only a matter of seconds before you realized that the Skulldozer had pulled you into a room nearby, holding you closely by the waist as he looked around for a hiding spot.

Just as the door to the room was kicked open by one of the gang members, you two had just barely managed to squeeze yourselves into a closet, holding your breaths and praying that he would leave soon. Luckily, upon scanning the room, the criminal backed out of the place, giving you the opportunity to gasp for air.

"Oh thank god-" You managed to say inbetween gasps. You pulled the mask obscuring your face down, revealing your pink-tinted cheeks and slightly ajar mouth. "God- all this can really work up someone's heat, huh?"

"Hehe...yeah.." Dozer responded quietly to you, in which you found oddly concerning. It was clear how draining the situation was, but usually he'd have some sort of witty remark or joke to respond to you with, but he seemed a bit sluggish this time around.

"Hey...are you okay?" You hummed, reaching your gloved hand out to the Dozer. He seemed to back away just a little bit upon your approach, causing you to retract your hand instead. "Do you need be to get Winters to call an extraction team? I can-"

"I-it's really hot in here..." He whimpered out, his legs trembling within his heavy armor. You were about to ask if he needed any help taking his armor or anything off, but you were cut off by his voice as well as your flustered response to it: "Or maybe you're just heating up the room~?"

"I- y-you-" Your face was nearly as red as your uniform, your nervous stuttering eliciting a chuckle from the Dozer that was pressed up against you.

"Y'know..." Dozer hummed, flipping his face plate up so you could see his lustful expression through the glass of his helmet, his other hand pressed against the wall next to your head as he purred:

"Maybe we can have some fun while we're still here~"

[fellpurpose]

MAGE DRAGON DID NOT KNOW WHERE HER FEELINGS WERE, for lots of factors of to-day, but mainly, in the bond she had grown with a certain, dull blonde-haired artist. he was all that she despised; intellectual in the wrong form, awfully loud to a discomfort, and a human. but, she could not deny the power that thrummed beneath his veins, commanded thus only by thunder and lightning. his theatrics, though, could be bent to a beneficial angle, in the possible form of distracting what he would then ruin.

how unfortunate, then, that all hopes of dragging his reputation through the remains of her wrath were immediately dispelled upon the sight of him; facing the wall of the library’s corner, gesturing wildly and without possible coherence, and mumbling to himself in a voice that was too loud to be whispers but too quiet to be discernable.

zephia’s smile immediately contorted into a grimace, the small box in her hand nearly crushed beneath her fist from shock.

“...right,” came her small mutter, followed closely by a curt hum as she took to softening her expression, “odin? step away from the corner, would you? i come bearing a gift.”

it was not much. a substitute for a present she would prefer━━━claws at the slope of his throat and a crook in his spine from kneeling━━━but she learned long ago that suffering must be introduced as a grace before it can allow for a sacrifice of blood. she cannot offer the intimacy of drawing blood together until he sees why there was an intimacy in the loss.

when odin turned, zephia quickly thrust the gift at him. a small, square box that, upon opening it, revealed a rather quaint gem. pale in color, though there was no denying the flicker of a sangria tint within its dull shine.

“it is a simple ability of mage dragons, creating magical objects and the like.” a pause; mage dragon’s smile twitched. “in light of you entertaining me in the armory, i gift you a charm of luck. do not exert it, for you can only use it minorly.”

but this sacrifice━━━a draw of the magic buried deep within her as of her demise, stalling her strength for but a day━━━would bear fruit. zephia would see to it that he returned the favor, whether by blood or trust, he’d be bound to her by this mere gift. thus, her expression brightened, sangria eyes narrowing with a senseless joy and her hands clasping as a sign of gratitude. 

“i heard that it was human custom to present others with gifts to-day, so here. take it, please.” she played the interaction with faux innocence, smiling as she added, “we are not friends, nor are we close, but i pray to the fell dragon that our bond grows, either way.”

( HAPPY VALENTINES DAY, from ZEPHIA to ODIN ! ) p.s. "elix they haven't even finished the armory thread" ok but i want an excuse to send sara funny threats via vday so look away from my indulgence orz odin's this close ( pinches my fingers ) to getting his fifth hound badge ( this is a lie )

in the shimmering haze of his own grandiosity, every gesture is a flourish and every word a soliloquy. just like the protagonist of the tale enclosed in his clutch, the mage thinks himself an enigmatic figure in this cast-off corner of the library. a theatrical virtuoso! the maestro of melodrama! he, who possess a flair for the dramatic, rivaled only by the gods themselves!

yet amidst his opulent realm of self-adulation, there comes a moment of surprise —the sound of the familiar voice. odin turns suddenly. zephia is met with a sharp gasp! and the rapid thud! of the book he shuts close.

( behold! see what is bestowed upon those who yield to the majesty of fate! )

within her grasp is a precious treasure. the pale hue of the gem, like the delicate blush of a rose petal, appears ethereal against the backdrop of her fingers. upon closer inspection, he can discern a hidden richness—a whisper of sangria, as if the gem holds within it the essence of twilight's warmth. an undeniable allure —a subtle charm that draws the eye of a chosen one and stirs his imagination. "that opulent finish...to stare at it...so alluring...like losing oneself in the twilight dusk-!"

odin's eyes grow wide. at long last, the grandiloquent maestro is rendered speechless (a rare occurrence in the annals of his dramatic repertoire). he returns the faux smile with sincerity, bowing his golden head as he takes gift into his own capable hands. "th-thank you, my lady!" and thus, the curtains of his ego part temporarily, revealing a glimpse of humility beneath the veil of extravagance. eyes mist with emotional wonder, and features alight with awe and gratitude. ( could this be confirmation? could he really be all that he aims to emulate? )

"ahem. but i would hardly call it SIMPLE! your skills are most impressive. and this attitude of yours...so casual in the face of a dark art as complex as conjuration...to be expected of a being with your ILLUSTRIOUS POWER!"

he beams, thoroughly delighted by this new development. "you heard correctly! now, let us be allies in shadow. two paragons of darkness who walk the lonely path of the fell arts. with this exchange...i hope you'll come to think of me as a reliable friend and companion."

the gem is turned over carefully in his hands. a thought occurs suddenly, and bright eyes turn pleading. "WAIT! before you leave, lady zephia...you must tell me what exquisite name you've bestowed upon this treasure! a most feverish, fervent yearning burns within me...the anticipation of knowing its name pierces me with a MILLION and one knives of pure agony- !"

[mrcowboydeanwinchester]

🌧️ the sun, through it all, abides ☀️

charthur fic - 3152 words - rating: G - arthur healing - read on ao3

“This sickness inside of me, it’s like climbing the Grizzlies. I can’t come down, there’s no way back. It hurts. An’ when I get to the top– that’s it, Charles. I’m done. It’s a trail made of bridges and I’m burning ‘em, all of ‘em."

“So maybe you can’t see a way back, Arthur,” Charles said. “But there’s always a way forward. It’s a big old mountain you’re climbing. Take the scenic route.”

Charles convinces Arthur to make it out of Beaver Hollow alive. The arid West Elizabeth air is better for Arthur's lungs, but then a week of rain arrives, leaving Arthur's chest rattling and his mind uneasy. Turns out the slow, unsteady weight of getting better is easier to carry when shared.

fic is below the cut!

"Love, in all its forms, is the most powerful weapon we have, because love is a form of hope. And, like hope, love abides. In the face of everything.” - Vinay Patel, ‘Demons of the Punjab’

Arthur’s world had narrowed significantly since his collapse in Saint Denis. It wasn’t like the possible pathways of his future had been so wide and varied before, but with the rattling in his chest there seemed to be only one path ahead: the fork in the road had come and gone, and he had left the freedom of life’s highway for a steep and rocky mountain trail which ended more abruptly than he’d anticipated. 

He’d told all this to Charles, once, at Beaver Hollow.

“This sickness inside of me, it’s like climbing the Grizzlies. I can’t come down, there’s no way back. It hurts. An’ when I get to the top– that’s it, Charles. I’m done. It’s a trail made of bridges and I’m burning ‘em, all of ‘em.”

“So maybe you can’t see a way back, Arthur,” Charles had said. “But there’s always a way forward. It’s a big old mountain you’re climbing. Take the scenic route.”

“The scenic route?”

“Ride with me and ride somewhere slow and warm and dry. Make it easier. Make it out of this chapter of your life alive.”

And when Charles had left, Arthur had followed him, with John following Arthur. 

Now, Arthur’s narrow world is as wide as the views surrounding Beecher’s Hope. Charles and John’s handiwork is impressive even if half-finished, with Charles fixing the ranch up while John runs errands. Arthur does what he can to help out. It’s not much, but it’s more than he was able to do when he was running with the gang, and some days, those burned bridges leading back to a healthier life even seem a little salvageable. The West Elizabeth air is hot, the land is arid, and his lungs are better for it. They have a life here, a real one. It’s good. It’s healing.

It is really, really hard.

When the rain comes to Beecher’s Hope, it comes for a week, and it comes to make Arthur miserable. The humidity of the air combined with the foul weather’s accompanying chill wreaks a wearying havoc on his lungs. John has ridden up to Valentine for a job and gotten caught in a storm in New Hanover, sending word back that he won’t be arriving home until the weather has passed, and so Arthur and Charles are alone in the ranch. In a way it’s nice to have all the time to themselves. But there is so much time, and so little to do with it, and Arthur misses the extra company. With the weather working against his health the way it is, it’s all he can do to make meals on good days, and rest up on bad ones.

It’s weeks like these that Arthur is reminded that climbing this mountain is unrelentingly boring. There are things he simply cannot do, things he used to do often and enjoyed; some things he can do on some days but strictly not others and only at the time will they be made known; a list of things he can do but only if he deems them worth the consequences. 

That is a mighty big part of his job, now. Valuing the worth of something against the consequences. Hardest thing about it is, everything is worth it in the moments before the consequences. But in the gripping fist of a coughing fit, praying he doesn’t bring up blood again, rendered a helpless silvery consciousness in a breaking body, nothing is ever worth it. And knowing that, living through it, how can he make the choice to bring that pain into being again? 

Life has become a constant balancing act, with pros and cons and quantifiable outcomes. There’s a level of mathematics to it which Arthur finds exhausting. He’s always been more for metaphors than mathematics, really. But there aren’t many metaphors for being ill. He can tell Charles he’s climbing a mountain all he likes but that doesn’t stop the fact he’s sore all over in ways nothing can properly fix.

So the amount of things he can do is meager and oftentimes, he finds, pitiful. And very boring.  

“You’re drawing again,” Charles notes as he wanders into their bedroom to check on Arthur. It’s the third day of pouring rain. Charles’ building chores, too, have been held up by the weather, but there’s enough work for him to do on the farm without John here that his dashes to and from the barn are frequent. 

“Hmmf,” Arthur grunts in illustrious reply. 

He’s a far cry from happy, the rain-roused heavy wheezing of his chest making him feel more accordion than human. There’s a dull ache accompanying it. It’s one which threatens more than tortures, but the threat of it is enough to make him uneasy, a fidgety anxiety that combines with the cabin fever to make him feel shit. 

Today, the most he has managed is to drag the rocking chair from its usual corner of the room to face the window. With his journal and charcoal in his hand, he’s sketching the panes of the window and its limited view. Repeatedly, over and over across the page, are little and large visions of the cagey window and the tree just outside of it that blocks most of the light. 

Charles deciphers his cartoons with ease. “You’re restless. Anything I can do?”

“Bring back the damn sun,” Arthur snaps. He bites down on his lip the second the words leave his mouth, disliking the harshness which emanates from them. He hates how he can feel himself being worse to the people he loves over this. He hates that he can’t control his body, and now he can’t even control his tongue. Still, he doesn’t say sorry. 

Charles is gentle as he always is, running a calm hand through the light strands of Arthur’s hair from where he’s leaning against the back of his chair. He is not a man without anger, but he seems to know when Arthur’s isn’t really directed at him. “This tree, it covers almost the whole window,” he muses. “Blocks most of your view.”

“I guess,” Arthur supplies, helpfully. 

“Next time the rain lessens, I’ll chop it down.”

“Charles, you don’t have to do that–”

“I can’t bring back the sun, but I can let a little more light in,” Charles says, like that settles the matter. 

Haltingly, the rain patters to a not-quite stop the next afternoon, the remaining drizzle just bearable enough for Charles to head out in. 

“I’ll chop that tree today, before more rains come,” Charles calls as he makes his way through the front door in lieu of hello. He takes off his hat, holding open the front door and shaking it so that droplets of water roll off the black leather. 

The draft that whistles through the open door is misty and cold. Arthur is glad for the fire burning in the hearth today which wrings the moisture out of the air before the worst of it reaches his lungs. 

He sighs, though, the prospect of another bout of rain settling low and depressed in his gut. “You don’t think this is the end of ‘em?”

“Sorry, Arthur. Clouds still rolling in over Blackwater. It’ll be a few more days, at least. Are the axes in the outhouse?” 

“You know more about that than me, I ain’t got much to do with manual labor ‘round here,” Arthur chuckles, a little sourly. “And I swear, they say tuberculosis is meant to cut your life short but time has never passed more slowly in my life.”

Charles nods, nudges his toes against the fire to stoke it a little. “Keeping a sick body alive is harder than surviving a shootout.” 

“Well, I’d take being shot at any day. Least then I can shoot back. Never once did a job with shootin’ involved that went by so slow.”

Charles huffs a laugh, shaking his head as he makes once more for the door. “How about watching me chop this tree?” he suggests, rolling the sleeves of his navy tunic up his broad forearms as he smiles. His voice is low and rich, like the smoke which rises from a gun barrel after a hunt’s quick kill. “I’ll fell it clean.” 

With that, he turns and heads back outside, leaving the hairs of Arthur’s neck standing. Arthur gets up stiffly and slowly, heading back to the bedroom with the noises of the outhouse doors opening and closing accompanying him. He drags the rocking chair back into view of the window in time to see Charles walking up to the tree with his ax in hand. 

“You sure there ain’t nothing I can do?” Arthur shouts to Charles. He pushes open the window as he does so - some days he can decide something is worth it and the consequences forget to arrive afterwards. Maybe today is one of those days.

Charles hears him, positioning himself at the far side of the tree so Arthur has a clear view of him. Or he has a clear view of Arthur. “Well, you can sit there and look pretty,” he grins.

“I– oh,” Arthur falters, heat rising to his cheeks and likely turning him a bashful pink. “Pretty,” he mutters to himself, shaking his head at Charles’ smile.

“You’re getting some color back,” Charles says, quite seriously, but Arthur can hear the tease rolling through his voice. Arthur waves his ribbing away. 

It’s nice to know, at least, that he hasn’t lost the ability to produce a blush. He’s been pale so long now he’s near forgotten what he used to look like. And for Charles to call him pretty through all that - the perpetual pallor, the gauntness, the loss of the fat by his waist he used to know was his – is something. Arthur looks in the mirror now and sees sickness. Charles looks at him and somehow still sees something good. 

The rain spits down steadily outside the window, Charles’ tunic soon dampening and clinging to his arms. He’s foregone his hat for this, and so his hair, too, is soon stuck against his skin, the strands falling over his face from where he’s tied half his hair back fixed to his forehead. He runs a dark hand through his hair to clear his vision and the moment passes in a pattering heartbeat Arthur wishes he could recapture. 

Charles swings once, twice, brings the tree down on the third slice through the air. It comes down easily, and Arthur watches the world outside his bedroom window be made anew. The sky blooms into being, the gray light of the expansive plains flooding the room. Everything reaches outwards, the fences which had once caged his field of vision now the markers of near distance as the horizon rolls away.  A single patch of blue, once hidden by the branches of the tree, is clear in the sky. 

“That better?” Charles asks.

It’s one tree. It’s a small change. Arthur feels a ray of delight he hasn’t felt in weeks. That’s the one good, desperate thing about a narrow life: the littlest moments of contentment become all-consuming. 

He nods, cheeks dimpling. “Sure is. It sure is.”

**

“Arthur,” a familiar voice whispers softly, lifting him from a dream where he is holding blood-stained money in his hands and can’t put it down, “Arthur, wake up. The rain has dried and the sun is rising. Come outside with me.”

Arthur opens bleary eyes to see Charles lit in dawn’s nectarine light. The curtains are pulled back from the window, leaving its newly clear view to reveal drying ground and open, almost cloudless, sky.  

Finally.

Charles offers his hand and Arthur takes it, gladly, rising from the bed and following him to the front door, slinging on his jacket and boots over his union suit as he goes. He passes from the wooden boughs of the house out into the open air with the deep breath of a wakening yawn in his lungs. There is no dampness to fight against. Just a world which seems to extend from him, the temperature around him at one with that of his skin, the dry air passing through his lungs and out again almost smoothly. Smooth as they can ever manage. There’s no cure. No real healing, not properly. But there’s this. Things in his body aren’t ever okay for long, but they’re okay for the moment, and Arthur has this. 

He sits himself down on the step of the porch. His boots, grown clean without use over the past few weeks, gain a fine coating of dust around where the sole meets the leather again. Charles sits to his right and the morning thrums, quiet around them, with little hints of life. A spider spins its home along the wooden railing of the porch. 

“Thanks for wakin’ me,” Arthur murmurs.

Charles smiles. “It felt important.”

“I’ve been– bad to be around, these past few days,” he manages to say, tugging up a blade of grass from the ground beside him. He flips it between his fingers as he gets the rest out. “Ain’t made things easy for you. I want to do better. Don’t want to be no fair weather friend. Literally.”

“What you’re going through, it’s not easy.”

“Neither is what you’re doin’.”

“Maybe,” Charles nods. “But allow yourself some grace, Arthur.” 

Arthur bumps his elbow roughly into Charles’s side. “Jus’ take the damn apology.”

“Okay,” Charles concedes, and Arthur can feel his shoulders shaking with gentle laughter as they rest against him. 

The mountains in the distance are plummy, ripening in color with the rising sun; in another world Arthur is sinking his teeth into the skin of them and reaching the softness beneath. The light shimmers down in tangible rays. Once, Arthur could’ve traveled far enough to reach out and touch them.

“Mornin’s like this… I used to ride through the night, sometimes, just waiting for the light to stream down through the clouds. Made it worth it.”

Charles hum in agreement. “There are many things you can say about this world, but you can never forsake its beauty.”

“Yeah,” Arthur mutters. Bitterness creeps back into his voice, seeing all this beauty, and knowing it has to be held at arm’s length.

With an intuition saved just for Arthur, Charles hears his discordant tone. “What are you thinking about?”

“I guess– I miss riding how I used to,” Arthur sighs. “Look at ‘em plains, just sprawlin’ outwards. Years ago I could’ve jumped up on a horse and flown over ‘em all, wouldn’t’ve even looked back. Now I’m just– just here. Can’t do anything the way I used to. And it makes me think I won’t ever get it back.” He keeps his eyes fixed on the sloping horizon, staunchly away from Charles’ sympathetic gaze. Frankly, he knows that he’s being dramatic about it all, wallowing in self-pity when there’s no need to. The fact he’s living is a goddamn miracle. Problem is, he can’t remember the last time he felt properly alive.

“We can rebuild it, Arthur,” Charles murmurs. His shoulder is warm and sturdy against Arthur’s arm, the muscles thick in a way Arthur’s no longer are. “All is not lost. We can rebuild it all.”

Arthur can’t help it; he turns his head to look at Charles and the desperation in his voice cracks out. “You think?” 

“Yeah,” Charles says simply. No promises; they’ve learned long ago that there is no point making promises. But still, if Charles thinks it, then maybe Arthur can too. 

“Okay,” he agrees, a faint smile flickering across his lips. And then– “sorry for sounding so desperate, makes me feel like a goddamn fool.”

Charles shakes his head. “You don’t sound desperate, Arthur. Even if you did, I wouldn’t judge you for it. You more than anyone has been through hell. You know another word for desperation?”

Arthur scoffs. “I dunno – weakness? Fear?”

“Hope,” Charles says, entirely paradoxically, yet with the steadfast sincerity with which he always speaks.

“I think you need to find a dictionary, friend,” Arthur chuckles. “Those are some very different words.”

“No, I meant what I said. Hope and desperation – both come from wanting a better life. Wanting a better way of being, wanting something to turn out right. I say desperation and you say weakness, maybe because to be desperate about something is to care so strongly about it. Desperation is vulnerable. It’s intimate. It’s hope without belief.”

The sun is risen, now, a fledgling held in tender hands and being released skywards. It floats over the land and cloaks the plains in the celestial mist of dawn. Light lingers close to the ground, and dust kicked up from a rider on the road into Blackwater glows with it. The rains ceased, the darkness receded. The sun, through it all, abides. 

Arthur hums. His throat rattles with the sound of it, though a cough doesn’t catch, and when he speaks his voice is raspy for a different reason. “Do you believe in me, Charles?”

Charles’ eyes meet his and in the dawning light the deep brown of his eyes is spun golden. “Arthur, of course I do.”

“I believe in you. All the time.”

“Then there’s hope in you yet,” Charles smiles. “It’s a thing that builds, I think. Over time. The world will come back to you.”

Arthur lifts Charles’ hand from where it’s resting on his knee and gently turns it so the paler skin of his palms face upwards. Places his own hand over Charles’. 

“Starting with us,” he makes plain. He can make it no plainer than this, his world and all its desperation and hope falls away without Charles by his side. His partner huffs out a fond sigh beside him and Arthur nudges him with his knee, thoughts straying from the philosophical to the more physical. “You were sayin’ something ‘bout being vulnerable. Being intimate,” he begins, raising an eyebrow. 

“Hmm, was I?” Charles laughs coyly. “Seems to have slipped my mind.” 

But he leans right into the kisses Arthur nuzzles into his hairline, grabbing at the hand not already in his to thread his fingers between Arthur’s. His body is warm as the rainless air. And Arthur knows it’s a hard climb up the mountain. Feels it every day, slow and unforgiving, both restless and demanding. But for as long as the sun stays rising, as long as the scenic route lends him moments like this, there is a feathered thing singing an old song within him. Charles takes his narrow world and finds ways to make it wider. The song carries on, and Arthur is starting to believe it’s worth listening.

[naoko-world]

Sneak peek of my projects for Valentine's day

1 week till Valentine's day and I decided to show a sneak peek of my two projects for the day!

First the fic I'm still writing and is praying to finish as soon as possible so I can find someone to proofread me on time:

As you were about to pull Bruno away from the bakery, the young man finally noticed you, smiling widely and charmingly. "Oh! Hi love!"

"Don't call me love," you growled, while Bruno scowled in confusion.

"Nevermind!" he turned to Bruno, looking mistrustful. "And why are you with this man?"

Before Bruno could reply anything, or even ask anything, you got closer to him, cuddling as you revealed, "He's my boyfriend!"

"Your...Boyfriend???"

He shuddered in front of the man's visible anger, his eyes shooting murderous wishes at him. Bruno guessed he was in love with you as he eyed him. He was pretty handsome with his brown skin and his curly black hair styled in dreads tied behind his head. Bruno thought that man could easily snatch you away from him, making him wonder why you weren't already dating. Instinctively, he took you by the waist and held you against him. 

Suddenly, the man's expression softened, a grin spreading on his face. "It's a joke, right? No way you would want to go out with that viejito."

"It's not a joke," you claimed proudly. "I love him!"

"Aww come on Love!" he replied even more lightly. "You can't fool me! Did you see him? He's the opposite of attractive."

"Don't you dare, Andres!" you threatened, raising your voice with anger. "Bruno is incredibly handsome! And cute! He's totally my type!"

"I doubt your type is a creepy ugly viejito whose only friends are rats."

Bruno was staring at you arguing with Andres, feeling confused and internally panicking. He was afraid you taking his side would taint your reputation in the town, and for a relationship you would surely regret. After all, the man was right: no way you were in love with him so old and ugly when you were so young and gorgeous. Why he stepped in to clarify, “Actually we’re only a couple for today...”

“Oh? Only for today?” he asked, interested.

Visibly annoyed, you confirmed, “Well yes. Technically it’s only for today.” Then, you added with an insisting tone, “But tonight we’ll decide if we continue or not.”

Bruno couldn’t help but think she will most likely tell him she’d prefer not to continue. He didn’t say anything though, as Andres grinned in understanding, supposing, “I see what’s happening there! It actually makes sense! That viejito asked you to go out with him, you didn’t dare refuse so you accepted to get out with him for one day, to please him.”

“It’s actually the contrary,” you replied with a sheepish smile. Then, you added before his confused face. "I told you that I love him! Now if you'll excuse us..." 

You started pulling again Bruno away from the bakery, when Andres stopped you to suggest, “Wait! Since your...Hum... Boyfriend seemed interested in our pans and arepas, let me give some to him.”

Then, he approached Bruno, before holding him a pan de bono. As he took it, then an arepa de Choclo, Andres whispered near his ear, “They’re mine, viejito. I want to marry them since I’m a child and I won’t let an old creepy viejo like you snatch them away. If you accept to continue to go out with them, prepare yourself for consequences. You hear me?”

Shuddering in fear, Bruno nodded, then took a bit more of the delicacies Andres was holding to him before following you. Doing so, he noticed your suspecting face as you asked, “What did he tell you?”

“Nothing,” he assured you, not wishing to anger you more for him.

The other sneak peek in a reblog!

[you-knees]

A Special Valentine Treat

Not flowers. Not chocolates. Not a fancy dinner.

Here I am in my seemingly weakest state, carrying a child in my womb, counting the days before I can [probably] get rid of these body pains and at least walk and lay on my back comfortably.

And yet here I am full of praise and joy in my heart, waiting for a promise to be held in my arms.

But also beyond that is a heart full of love, answered prayer, and endless gratitude for this one person I have held hand in hand for quite a time now– my husband.

In a span of eight roller coaster months, I’ve seen this man turn into the best husband, and an even better father– already. He wasn’t merely a spectator in this pregnancy, waiting for the ball to pop to start becoming a dad, no. He’s been there from the beginning– aiding, listening, praying, crying with me. Every difficulty has been made easy. Every pain, bearable. Every long wait, a season of joy and thanksgiving. He has been faithful to point me back to God everytime I felt anxious and doubtful of myself. He has been everything I needed in this slow, self-denying journey.

I am blessed to have a husband who declares victory after victory, especially when I can’t see clearly through my fogged pregnant state. One who takes the first step before I do, who cleans up to allow me to rest, who willingly runs errands even before I ask of them, who does chores because I feel heavy, who leads our prayer time and speaks of the right words. I am blessed to not have done this alone, to have been truly partnered and supported. And now in the last few weeks of carriage, I would say we will have conquered this mountain and finished strong– both physically and in faith, because we have each other and God is above us. This marriage, this wonderful irreplaceable love, is the best thing I could ever ask for in this lifetime.

Thank You, Jesus. This is all grace.

*Oh, and happy 8th months married, loml. ♡

[some-pers0n]

I've finished writing about chapter 3 (of 5) of SANABI. The end is on the horizon! It's funny to me that I said I'd be lucky to finish this post by the lunar new year, because there's no way I'm wrapping this up by tomorrow (which makes me... unlucky?). But I've made appreciable progress, and in the end, isn't that what matters most?

I probably won't be able to work on the essay as much for the next week because of the whole Chinese New Year celebrations thing. What holidays do you and your family celebrate around this time, by the way? How big are your family gatherings? Are they utterly horrifying?

Writing question for you. How do you write really long (100k+) fics while making sure the content isn't filler or uninteresting? How do you sustain a long-running plotline?

And an obligatory goofy question: if you could live in the universe of one of your favorite book/book series, would you?

Ah sorry for this taking a while. I was busy hating on the Demon Show again.

How long is that essay again? Last I remember you said it was nearing 9k words. I expect that's been blown out of the water now lol. God the dedication one must have to have that much patience and love for a game to create such an essay. Me? I projectile vomited about The Character a while back. It was like 9k words or something as well. I do wish you well on finishing it!

The only holidays we celebrate around this year is either Valentines Day or Family Day. I only like Family Day cause I get a break from everything. No real family gatherings for most things. Usually it's just small family stuff. Though yeah family gatherings can get pretty intense. Last one I went to on my mother's side had well over 800 people.

Honestly uhh...hope and pray. Though if I were to try and frame it as actual advice, I'd say that everything should be working towards a goal somehow. Every scene should have the characters moving forward, whether it be in a way that's relevant to the overarching story or some interpersonal arc. Also I cram in as many jokes as humanly possible. Also the fic itself and its plot is generally somewhat split into sections, with the first act being relatively free from a big general plot and more about the characters and their introductions. The main real plot comes in about halfway through, but even then the fic mostly draws you in with setting up these characters and their own issues and deals.

Well my current favourite book right now is House of Leaves and. well. lets just say I don't exactly want to be trapped in a house that is also God that is also within several layers of metafiction. But y'know. It is what it is. For favourite book series? Uh,, hm.. Truth be told I haven't really read any big book series in ages. Mostly just one-off stuff. WoF I guess counts. I'd say HELL YEAH I LOVE DRAGONS!!! I wanna be a dragon and have fun. If I stay as a human? Yeah no. No thank you.

If the question was about me living in my favourite video game world then it's not even a question. Instant yes. I don't care about anything else.