#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,,,

[enhaflixer]

reaction: when they’re pissed off (in a cute way) with you on Valentine’s Day

cw: skinship, upset enha, kissing, explicit mentions wc: 1.7K TL: @naurwayyyyy @ziiao @somuchdard AN: LMAO REPOST CUZ ACCIDENTALLY DELETED THE LAST ONE

𝐋𝐞𝐞 𝐇𝐞𝐞𝐬𝐞𝐮𝐧𝐠

"I’m not mad."

Heeseung has said this at least seven times now.

And yet, he hasn’t looked at you properly all evening, has been scrolling aggressively on his phone, and is eating his food like it personally offended him.

"Baby, you sure about that?" you ask, watching him.

"Yep."

"Then why are you stabbing your steak like it’s my fault?"

"I always eat like this." He shrugs, looking down at his plate with a blank expression, before adding, "Totally normal. No problems here."

You roll your eyes. "Okay, then why have you barely spoken to me?"

"I’m just thinking," he says vaguely, taking a sip of his drink like he’s in a drama about betrayal.

You squint at him. "Hee. Just say it."

Heeseung finally exhales, setting his fork down. "Fine. I just think it’s interesting that I planned this entire Valentine’s surprise, wrote you a whole letter, and took you out to this fancy place—but you didn’t write me anything."

You pause. "Oh."

"Yeah. Oh." He takes another dramatic sip.

You reach for his hand. "Baby, I can write you a letter right now—"

"Nope. Too late. The damage has been done." He leans back, closing his eyes like he’s processing deep betrayal.

You laugh, sliding into his lap, wrapping your arms around his neck. "Will a thousand kisses make up for it?"

He pretends to think about it. "Hmmm… I guess I can be persuaded."

𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐤 𝐉𝐨𝐧𝐠𝐬𝐞𝐨𝐧𝐠

Jay had a vision. A Pinterest-worthy, cinematic romance kind of vision.

And you? You ruined it.

"Wait." He blinks at you, utterly betrayed. "Where’s my Valentine’s Day gift?"

You freeze.

"Jay—"

"Oh my God, you forgot."

You panic. "No! I mean… yes. But! But I have something planned—"

"Mmm. Sounds fake."

He leans back, crossing his arms, lips pursed in the most dramatic pout.

"I got you roses and your favorite chocolate. I even wrote a handwritten letter. Meanwhile, my thoughtful, loving, caring fiancé—"

"Okay, okay!" You grab his hands, laughing. "I’ll make it up to you."

He tilts his head, eyeing you suspiciously. "You sure? Because this was a pretty deep wound. Might take a while to heal."

You bite your lip, stepping closer. "I’ll do anything, baby."

His jaw tightens slightly at that, his hands twitching at his sides.

"Anything?" he murmurs.

You nod, brushing your fingers along his collar.

Jay exhales sharply, then grabs your waist, pulling you flush against him. His lips graze your ear as he whispers,

"Good. Because I plan to collect that apology. All. Night. Long."

𝐒𝐢𝐦 𝐉𝐚𝐞𝐲𝐮𝐧

"I’m so mad at you right now."

You barely step inside before Jake is grabbing your waist, pinning you against the door, and glaring at you like you just personally ruined his life.

You blink up at him, confused. "What did I do now?"

He lets out the most tragic sigh you’ve ever heard. "Oh, I don’t know, babe. Maybe just COMPLETELY neglectING ME on Valentine’s Day??"

You squint. "Jake, we literally spent the entire day together."

"EXACTLY!" he exclaims, gesturing wildly. "We were together ALL DAY and somehow, SOMEWAY, I have not been dicked down once. Not once. Do you understand how that makes a man feel?"

You stare. "Jake—"

"No, no, let me finish." He steps back, running a frustrated hand through his hair like he’s on the verge of a breakdown. "I have spent the last twelve hours waiting, hoping, praying, manifesting some kind of fucking physical affection from my own girlfriend, and what do I get? A pat on the back. A little forehead kiss. What am I, a fucking toddler??"

You burst out laughing. "Baby, you’re being dramatic."

"Dramatic? DRAMATIC?" He grabs your wrist, pulling you flush against him. "Babe. My dick is in distress. It’s been in distress ALL. FUCKING. DAY."

You snort. "You poor thing."

"YES, actually!" He grabs your hand, placing it over his chest. "Feel that? That’s a broken heart. A heart that thought tonight was gonna be different. A heart that thought you were gonna throw me on the bed the second we got home. A heart that—"

You kiss him, effectively shutting him up.

He pauses for half a second before immediately kissing you back, his hands gripping your waist like he’s making sure you don’t escape.

You pull away, smirking. "Better?"

"Mmm." He tilts his head, looking you up and down. "I mean… it’s a start. But, babe—" he leans in, voice dropping— "I'm gonna need a lot more before I forgive you."

𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐤 𝐒𝐮𝐧𝐠𝐡𝐨𝐨𝐧

Sunghoon isn’t mad.

At least, he tells himself he’s not mad.

But he is currently sitting on the couch, arms crossed, jaw clenched, scrolling aggressively on his phone like someone who is very much mad.

And you have no idea why.

"Hoon." You nudge him. No response.

"Babe, what’s wrong?"

"Nothing."

You narrow your eyes. "That’s a lie."

He finally exhales sharply. "You didn’t wish me at 12:00 AM."

You blink. "Wait. What?"

"It’s fine," he says, standing up, walking away. "Just thought my own girlfriend would wish me at midnight first, but nope. Jay texted me before you did. Even my mom beat you to it."

You burst out laughing. "Hoon, we were asleep at midnight."

"You could’ve set an alarm," he mutters.

You chase after him, grabbing his wrist. "Hoon, baby—"

"Nope. Don’t ‘baby’ me now."

Then, suddenly—he grabs your waist, spins you around, and backs you into the nearest wall.

Your breath catches.

His eyes flicker down to your lips. "You wanna make it up to me?"

You swallow. "Yes."

His fingers brush against your jaw, tilting your chin up. "Good."

Then he kisses you—hard, deep, devastating.

And when he finally pulls away, he smirks.

"You should make mistakes like this more often."

𝐊𝐢𝐦 𝐒𝐮𝐧𝐨𝐨

Sunoo is dramatically sprawled across the bed, one hand over his forehead like some tragic K-drama lead.

"Sunoo, baby, what’s wrong?" you ask, sitting beside him.

"Oh, nothing." His voice is eerily calm. "Just thought I was going to be wined and dined. Taken somewhere extravagant. Pampered like the prince that I am."

You stifle a laugh. "Baby, we had a really nice dinner—"

*"IT WAS A CAFE." He sits up, glaring at you. "You took me to a CAFE."

You bite your lip. "But it was a Paris-inspired one…?"

"WHERE WERE THE CANDLELIGHTS? THE VIOLINS?"

You sigh, pulling him into your arms, stroking his hair. "I’ll take you somewhere fancy this weekend, okay?"

He sniffs. "And buy me dessert?"

"Anything you want, baby."

"And feed it to me?"

"Yes, Sunoo."

"And post me on Instagram?"

"Sunoo—"

He squints. "Do you love me or not?"

𝐘𝐚𝐧𝐠 𝐉𝐮𝐧𝐠𝐰𝐨𝐧

Jungwon isn’t just mad—he’s mad and confused.

And that’s a dangerous combination.

You realize something is wrong when he suddenly stops replying properly to your texts. Then, when you finally meet up for dinner, he just stares at you blankly, arms crossed, jaw tight, looking equal parts irritated and baffled.

"What’s wrong?" you ask, frowning as you sit across from him.

"I don’t know," he says.

You pause. "You don’t know?"

"Nope." He picks up his drink, takes a slow sip while keeping eye contact, then sets it down carefully. "Because if I knew, then I would at least understand why my girlfriend—who, mind you, is supposed to love me—decided to completely ignore me all morning on Valentine’s Day."

Your eyes widen. "Wait—"

"No, no. Please." He holds up a hand, silencing you. "Let me finish."

You press your lips together.

"Do you know who texted me first?" he asks, tilting his head.

"Um—"

"SUNOO." He sits back, folding his arms. "Sunoo texted me first. With a big, pink heart emoji and everything. But my own girlfriend? Nothing. Silence. Like I was just another irrelevant man walking this earth."

You stifle a laugh. "Jungwon—"

"No, because seriously!" He leans forward, exasperated. "Did you hit your head this morning? Did your phone break? Did you forget I existed?"

You grab his hands across the table, laughing. "Baby, I was literally asleep."

"Set an alarm next time," he grumbles.

You kiss his knuckles softly. "I’ll text you first every day for the rest of the week. Deal?"

He sighs, pretending to think about it. "Fine. But I expect dramatic good morning messages. And at least three heart emojis."

𝐍𝐢𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐦𝐮𝐫𝐚 𝐑𝐢𝐤𝐢

Riki has been staring at you.

Not in a cute, "I’m so in love" way. Not in a "Wow, my girlfriend is so pretty" way.

No. This is straight-up judgment.

"Riki," you say cautiously, side-eyeing him as he sits across from you, arms folded, jaw tight. "Are you good?"

He lets out the most condescending scoff. "Me? Oh, yeah. I’m GREAT."

You pause. "…Okay?"

"Yeah. No, I was just sitting here, thinking about how interesting it is that I’ve gone all fucking day without so much as a kiss on the cheek from my own girlfriend. But it’s fine. Really. I love being treated like some random side character in your life."

Your eyebrow twitches. "Riki, we’ve literally been together all day."

"EXACTLY." He throws his hands up, glaring. "And somehow, SOMEWAY, you’ve managed to avoid kissing me like I have a fucking disease."

You stifle a laugh. "Baby, we were literally in public the whole time—"

"Bullshit," he interrupts. *"You had time to fix your hair. You had time to take cute pictures. But you didn’t have time to kiss your incredibly hot, incredibly kissable boyfriend?"

You roll your eyes. "I think you’ll survive."

Riki narrows his eyes. "Oh. That’s how we’re playing it?"

Before you can react, he grabs your wrist, yanking you forward so suddenly that you stumble into his lap, your hands bracing against his chest.

Your eyes widen. "Riki—"

"Shh." He leans in, nose brushing yours, voice low and taunting. "You had your chance. Now it’s my turn."

Your breath catches as his fingers dig into your waist, holding you in place.

"You’re gonna make this up to me, babe," he murmurs, his lips ghosting over yours, teasing, torturing. "And I’m not letting you go until I feel properly appreciated."

TAGLIST: OPEN!!!! LMK WHAT YOU THINK PLS

[potatoplace]

Safe

💖 Valentine's Collection 2025: One Room at The Inn 💖

Azris x Reader

Summary: After spending two months helping to rebuild an Autumn settlement with Azriel and Eris, you're nearly home to the Forest House. The three of you decide to spend the night at an inn, where there's only one room, with one bed.

Warnings: none! ☺️

Words: 1,155

Author's Note: this was fuuuun yes yes I like it. Az and Eris being soft bois 🥹 I hope you guys like it!! Read it on AO3!

18+ only pls

🤍💙🤍🧡🤍

Eris’s eyes were flaming when he returned to your and Azriel’s sides, only one key held in his hand. “They only had the one room, and it’s only got one bed,” he huffed.

Heat rushed to your cheeks at the thought of spending the night in the same room as them, let alone the same bed.

“We’ll sleep on the floor,” Azriel said softly, a hand already rubbing your upper back to soothe you. “I will do no such thi-” Eris started, before cutting himself off. But when you turned to look at Azriel, his face was soft, no hint of a threat lingering that would’ve been able to shut Eris up. “Yes, alright, we will sleep on the floor, bunny. Now, let’s get you upstairs and into the bath first,” he fussed, extending an arm for you to take. You took it gladly, and let Eris lead you to the room the three of you would be sharing for the night, on your last day before returning to the Forest House. Azriel trailed behind you a few steps, but always in reach in case you needed his help.

The room was nice enough, with floor space for the males to sleep on… Though you felt rather guilty about that, knowing how much more they’d been doing than you had on the trip.

You had been picked by the Lady of Autumn, Eris’s mother, herself to oversee the rebuilding of a town on the edge of the Autumn-Winter border that had been all but wiped out by a landslide after record rainfalls in the height of autumn.

Somehow you’d been lucky enough to be given the Autumn Heir as your partner for the journey, and he’d elected to bring his friend, the Shadowsinger along.

For two months now, you’d been in close quarters with the males, their scents and appearances driving you mad. It didn’t help that the two of them were warm and caring towards only you, and seemed to put your needs above their own at every turn.

And now you were to sleep in the same room as them?

You were bound to have a dream about the two of them, with their scents so strong around you, and how embarrassing would it be for the Heir of Autumn and the Night Court’s Spymaster to bear witness to such a thing?

You were so overtaken with anxieties that you didn’t notice that Eris and Azriel had left, leaving you alone to take a bath and warm up after freeing yourself from your rain soaked clothing. You stripped down to your chemise and underthings, putting the rest of your clothes on the provided hangers, hoping that they would be dry enough to be comfortable in the morning.

You slipped your underwear off as well, hanging it with your socks and praying to the mother that the males wouldn’t notice, or at least would have the decency to not mention them.

Now, though, you ventured into the small attached bathroom, touched to see that a tub of water had already been filled for you, licks of steam rising from its surface. You pulled off your chemise, hung it on the hook on the back of the door, and sank into the water, sighing as heat began seeping back into your bones. This, at least, was worth having to share the room with Eris and Azriel.

You’d nearly finished scrubbing yourself clean when a knock sounded on the door. “Yes?”

“Y/N, I brought you a nightgown, if you’d like,” Eris said softly from the other side. Really?

“Oh, that would be lovely, Eris. You can set it on the counter, please,” you replied, sinking below the water to try and preserve whatever was left of your modesty. He opened the door, amber eyes flicking over to you for a moment before darting away, the smallest hints of a blush on his cheeks.

Maybe you weren’t the only on affected by this arrangement.

He left the nightgown on the counter as you’d asked, you giving your thanks before he practically bolted out of the room, shutting the door behind him.

A minute later you heard talking in the other room, and you assumed that Azriel had returned from wherever he’d gone.

You finished bathing in the next minute and reluctantly pulled yourself from the warm water and began to dry yourself with a fluffy towel before approaching the nightgown Eris had brought for you. Having a fresh set of clothes would let your chemise dry properly overnight, and you’d be saved the discomfort of sleeping in wet clothing. And the nightgown itself was very nice, made of a dark red silk and trimmed with soft white lace on the collar, hem, and sleeves. It fit you like a dream as well, nicer than anything you had worn in the past two months of hard work in the fields. And it was dry.

“Thank you, Eris,” you said softly when you exited the bathroom.

“Of course, bunny. I thought you might like some dry clothing for the night,” he replied before patting the seat next to him. “Come, Azriel brought us dinner.”

You took the seat next to him and across from Azriel, smiling at the offering of a hearty stew and fresh bread before tucking in.

Over the next hour the two of them bathed as well, coming out looking refreshed, cheeks flushed from the steam.

Soon enough it was late enough the three of you had agreed to try and sleep, the two of them taking their places on the floor, a blanket and pillow snagged from the bed for each of them.

You tried to sleep - you really, really tried - but after an hour of hearing Azriel’s wings rustle, and Eris’s tired and frustrated breathing, you cracked. Plus, without the extra bedding, you were feeling a bit chilled.

“The two of you can come up here,” you said in a small voice, surprised to hear both of them get up in an instant.

“Thank the mother, it’s cold down there,” Eris grumbled as he slid into bed in front of you, arms placed awkwardly as he tried not to touch you.

“Baby,” Azriel grunted as he took the spot behind you, his chest instantly warming your back and wing folding over the top of you, covering Eris as well. He hesitantly allowed his arm to loop around your waist, though he didn’t pull you closer like you secretly desired.

Their scents were so strong around you now, Azriel’s night mist and cedar smell mixing perfectly with Eris’s scent of embers and sweet vanilla.

You felt… At home, between them.

Your eyes started to feel heavy now, deep breaths into your lungs calming you even further. You stirred slightly when Eris finally let his arm wrap over you, his hand rubbing softly along your spine.

Between the two of them…

You felt safe.

🤍💙🤍🧡🤍

General Taglist: @daughterofthemoons-stuff @lilah-asteria @meritxellao @twismare @wrenisrad

[ma1dita]

crazy little thing

a ‘partners in crime’ installment - luke castellan x dionysus!reader prev -> bedtime stories | next -> anything you want 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

ask to be added to luke/general taglists!

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[ylangelegy]

svt & love poems they'd give you.

★ footnotes: decided to marry the two halves of my heart this valentine's: svt and poetry. this is unashamedly inspired by the brilliant @heartepub, whose constant intersection of svt x poetry inspires me to no end. viv, you are an entire poem in itself; i would give you all the pretty words in the world, if i could. + happy carat day, everyone!

seungcheol ★ Isn't Every Love Poem an Unfinished Love Poem?, Cristin O'Keefe Aptowicz

Praise the caps of your shoulders, my lips pressed against them.

Praise the poem I was trying to finish when you showed up

at my door.

jeonghan ★ If I Had Three Lives, Sarah Russell

If I had three lives, I'd marry you in two. The other? Perhaps that life over there at Starbucks, sitting alone, writing—a memoir, maybe a novel or this poem. […] I'd walk the beach at sunrise, find perfect shell spirals and study pockmarks water makes in sand. And I'd wonder sometimes if I'd ever find you.

joshua ★ True Love, Sharon Olds

I quietly call to you and you come and hold my hand and I say I cannot see beyond it. I cannot see beyond it.

junhui ★ February & my love is in another state, José Olivarez

stay with me. while the sky is still golden, hold the ladder so i can climb, & from the highest rung, i can scrape away a drizzle of light to wear around my neck. alone

is the star i follow. in love & in solitude: alone is the home with the warmest glow.

soonyoung ★ Variations on the Word Love, Margaret Atwood

This word is far too short for us, it has only four letters, too sparse to fill those deep bare vacuums between the stars that press on us with their deafness. It's not love we don't wish to fall into, but that fear. this word is not enough but it will have to do.

wonwoo ★ The Leash, Ada Limón

But sometimes, I swear I hear it, the wound closing like a rusted-over garage door, and I can still move my living limbs into the world without too much pain, can still marvel at how the dog runs straight toward the pickup trucks break-necking down the road, because she thinks she loves them, because she’s sure, without a doubt, that the loud roaring things will love her back,

jihoon ★ You Do Not Have To Love Me, Leonard Cohen

I wrote all these songs for you I burned red and black candles shaped like a man and a woman I married the smoke of two pyramids of sandalwood I prayed for you I prayed that you would love me and that you would not love me

seokmin ★ Watching you talk on the phone, I consider the empty space around atoms–, Rhiannon McGavin

To make my birthday cake from scratch, you wouldn’t just plant strawberries: you’d create another universe. I wanted you

warm and close as fresh laundry and here we are, Tuesday. Of course you love me, you’re wearing one of my socks.

mingyu ★ O Small Sad Ecstasy of Love, Anne Carson

I did a road trip all over my mind and heart and there you were kneeling by the roadside with your little toolkit fixing something.

Give me a world, you have taken the world I was.

minghao ★ The Quiet World, Jeffrey McDaniel

Late at night, I call my long distance lover, proudly say I only used fifty-nine today. I saved the rest for you.

When she doesn’t respond, I know she’s used up all her words, so I slowly whisper I love you thirty-two and a third times.

seungkwan ★ A Walk Round the Park, Sandra Lim

We did not say much to each other but

we grinned, because this love was so good you sucked the

rib bones

and I licked my fingers like a cat.

Now I’m omniscient. I’m going to skip past

the hard

parts that go on for a very long time.

vernon ★ Guilty of Dust, Frank Bidart

the voice in my head said

LOVE IS THE DISTANCE BETWEEN YOU AND WHAT YOU LOVE

WHAT YOU LOVE IS YOUR FATE

chan ★ First Date, Megan Williams

I want the warmth of your gaze to convince me that living is worth the discomfort. That other people can like me. That the bottlenecked bridge full of squealing tires & suckers who can't merge is a small price to pay for a hand in mine.

[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

[renflowerwords]

Sorbet Kisses

Sam x (fem) Reader | Happy (early) Valentine's Day!

6.7k words (sorry)

In which Sam asks you on a date, brings you sorbet, and y’all get a little tooooo tipsy at the Saloon. This one gets a little smutty, so MDNI!!! ( I MEAN IT.). Sam is needy and tender and perfect (because, of course, he is). Y/N is older than Sam, but I don’t put actual time frames, so you can insert your age and deduct a few months or years (keep it legal).

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When you finally finish the farm work for the day, it is well into the evening. The warmth of the baby summer sun beams down on your sweaty skin, coaxing a tan and a heat stroke.

At least everything is done.

It was an impressive feat, truly. You managed to clear out all of your old spring crops and plant your summer crops all in a day’s work. You deserved a good shower, a good leg massage, maybe, and some beer at the tavern. You weren’t truly fond of beer, but it was the start of summer, and sometimes, you can deviate from the norm when you’ve worked hard. Surely, that was the only reason you’d end up at the Saloon tonight. Not because the halo-haired Sam had mailed you an invite the evening before, offering to walk you to the Saloon if you “wanted to relax and spend time with some of the townies.”

Sam was…sweet. Despite his pierced-up, bad-boy exterior, you could tell he was kind and good-mannered. It was your first summer in town, and it was evident that you liked to overwork yourself. Everyone knew you needed a break, besides yourself, that is.

But you knew that his invitation was entirely platonic. It had to be. Sam was a bit younger than you and had his whole life stretched out in front of him, there was no reason for him to be romancing a farmer who had already explored the world a bit and had a solid retirement plan…the farm.

He was always kind to you when you ran into each other in the square and even offered to help out on the farm despite his lack of farm knowledge. He claimed “he had quite a bit of free time,” which you knew was a lie because Jodie always made a point to mention how he was always out and about whenever you’d stop by.

Although you felt a little wrong about it, you had a crush on Sam. It was hard not to, honestly. The first time you met him, he was helping Vincent with homework in their living room. You were just making the rounds, trying to introduce yourself to everyone in town.

“No, Vincent,” he chuckled as he grabbed the eraser and erased an answer Vincent had been working on, his little hands in his hair as he sucked his teeth, making a pointed look at Sam. It was so endearing to see them engage. Jodie was in the kitchen when you peeked your head in, catching them.

“Oh, hi,” Sam said as he made his way up from the couch. “Can we help you?”

You introduced yourself and gave Jodie some parsnips, hoping and praying that she would like them (she did). You chatted with Jodie a bit in the kitchen, and as you left, she had Sam walk you out.

When you made it to the porch, he stretched his hand out to you. “I’m Sam, by the way.”

“I know; your mom gave me the rundown. I’m y/n.” You offered him a small smile and shook his hand.

“Y/n.” he lets your name roll off his tongue, trying it out. “Nice. I like it.”  His hand still in yours.

“Thanks. Um, your mom volunteered your help on the farm. Just thought I’d let you know.” His handshake slows, and he’s just holding your hand for a few seconds before he comes to and pulls it back, slipping it into his blonde hair right after.

“Oh. Well. I’d love to!” Despite his over-eagerness, you could sense the underlying anxiety.

“That’s okay, really. See you around!” With a quick wave, you were heading to the next house. Sam offered a quiet “see you around” to your walking figure.

Throughout the entire spring season, Sam would pop up randomly in an old t-shirt and worn jeans on your front doorstep, or you’d catch him wandering around the property. He always made his presence known and asked if you needed any help, but you usually waved him away. You wanted to start this farm off by yourself. A way of proving you could do it, but you pocketed his eagerness to help whenever you needed some assistance down the line.

His mom just raised him well. So polite to offer to walk and accompany you. You made a mental note to send her some fresh produce when the harvest was done to thank her. Maybe you’d throw something in there for him, too.

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The shower you take is long and very, very needed. The amount of dirt you scrubbed off from your body was shocking at the least and abhorrent at best, but it felt good to see it all wash down the drain. It was just another reminder of how much hard work you had put in on the farm today.

You were giddy with nervous butterflies as you slipped on your white eyelet dress and pulled on your farmer boots. This would be your first outing around the other villagers that was a…casual event. Sure, the Flower Festival was nice, but you didn’t really “know” anybody, so you were secluded in the corner most of the time, and the dance was fun but…awkward. You didn’t know the right steps and were positive you looked like an absolute fool. You were grateful to Maru for letting you dance with her since she seemed like the only viable dance partner (although seeing Harvey dejected on the side made you feel a little bad).

Sam approached you afterward and told you that you had done great, but you just hid into your farmer’s hat (one that you proudly won during the egg festival) and made your way back home, offering him a quiet “I have to go.”

The next few days were spent in the mines, far away from contact with anybody.

I just hope it’s not as awkward.

You fiddle with your farmer’s hat a few times. On or off? On or off? You decide to wear it, leaving it on the kitchen counter for easy access when you leave.

Better to bring it just in case I need another quick escape.

Peeking out the window, you realize you’ve gotten ready way too early; the sun hasn’t even set yet.

Now what?

You wander around your room for a bit, fiddle with your radio, and dance around a bit until you hear a gentle knock at the door.

Whatever butterflies you felt before have all multiplied and are now in panic mode.

You rush to turn off the radio and run to the door.

“Hi,” Sam says as you open the door. To your surprise, he’s holding… ice cream?

He is tall and bright in your doorway and has cleaned up quite nicely. He’s wearing a white T-shirt (something you never really see him in) and jeans that, surprisingly, don’t have any holes in them. He’s wearing his signature black Converse, nearly torn to bits those things. Small black and silver piercings adorn his lips, eyes, and ears, and he presses his tongue to the ring on his bottom lip as he waits for your response. Nervous habit, you guess.

“Hi,” You say, giving a small smile despite your quivering lips and thudding heartbeat. “What’s this?” you gesture to the melting pastel-colored liquid dripping down his hand to his forearm.

“Oh!” he takes his free hand and runs it through his blonde locks before taking a lick at the melted ice cream on his wrist. Your eyes make a quick glance at the action, and something in your belly stirs, but you write it off as the butterflies.

Get it together…

“It’s really hot out today, so I thought I’d bring you some sorbet, but…well, it’s really hot, and it’s quite the trip.” He gestures down to his skateboard, leaning on your porch. You can’t tell if it’s the beginning of a sunburn beaming up his neck or blush, but regardless, it’s endearing.      

“Well… thanks!” You grab the dripping sorbet cone from his hand, carefully maneuvering it to keep it from spilling onto yourself, you only just got clean. “Wanna come in?” you lick at a sorbet-covered finger before reaching his eyes “and clean up?”

Sam stands on your porch quietly for a few seconds, staring straight into your face. You giggle a little and lick at your hand, now promptly covered in sorbet. “Um, before it melts some more?”

This seems to snap him out of whatever trance he’s in. He clears his throat. “Yeah! I mean, yeah, yeah, that’s probably smart.”

You take a few steps back, careful with the melting cone in your hand, and make room for him to enter your cabin.

“Sorry, it’s kind of a mess. Haven’t really had the time clean.” More licks at your palm.

This is pointless, it’s not even edible at this point.

“That’s okay. You look really pretty, by the way.” Sam is still planted in your entryway, seemingly unsure of where to go from there, his eyes darting everywhere in the room beside you.

His compliment sends a flush of heat throughout your whole body.

“Thank you, Sam. The boots aren’t too ‘farmy’? I mean, with the dress?” You gesture with your hands, moving too fast for the melting confection in your hand. The little dollop of half-frozen sorbet slides dramatically out of the cone.

Before you even realize it, Sam is in your bubble, catching the little ball of sorbet in his hands.

“Ah, I'm sorry!” You say, looking down at Sam’s hands, which are getting stickier by the minute. He just chuckles in response.

“It’s okay, really.” He takes the ball of sorbet ice cream and plops it into his mouth before looking back down at you.

“Ow, shot, diu yew wan sum?” He says with a mouth full of sorbet.

You giggle and shake your head, licking the remainder of the sorbet off your fingers and wrist. If you had looked up at any point in your self-grooming, you would have noticed Sam’s heated eyes on you.

“It is really yummy, though; I like sorbet.” You say before looking back up and catching his eyes. He’s pink all over.

“Um, yeah. Yeah, I like it too.” He offers after a beat and then gestures his sticky hands towards the sink. You nod your head and walk over with him.

“Sorry for finishing it off, that was rude.” He says while taking off his rings, now covered in sorbet.

He wore four of them, one on each of his middle fingers, one on his right pointer finger, and the last on his left thumb. He rinses them quickly before placing them on your counter.

“No, it’s okay, really. I enjoyed what I had.” You watch as he lathers his hands with your homemade kale soap before he places it into your open hands.

You both stand there in silence, washing hands and arms. Despite your best wishes, it’s awkward. An odd, homely awkwardness because it’s your kitchen and your sink and your soap, and yet Sam’s presence makes everything feel brand new. He’s standing so close, you can smell the sweat on his skin, and you hate yourself for being a little obsessed with it.

 His arm brushes up against yours as he runs the soapy water over himself.

Despite how simple, the act seems entirely too intimate, and you quickly finish washing your hands and drying them with a dish towel. You needed to get far away from him to quell the butterflies in your gut.

Wow, I definitely like him more than I thought.

Not knowing what to do with yourself, you lean on the backside of your kitchen counter and fiddle with the frayed edges of your farmer hat.

Sam is the first to break the silence.

“I like the boots, actually. I’ve been thinking about getting myself a pair.” He reaches for a kitchen towel and begins drying his arms, turning around and leaning his back on the sink.

He looks so pretty you could faint from this vision of him in your kitchen. His lower abdomen is soaked, and his shirt has become temporarily see-through.  You try so hard not to stare, but you can see a thin stretch of a happy train through his shirt, and you can feel your cheeks get hot.

Oh my God.

“I’m sure you’d look nice in them.” You say, your voice shaky.

Sam smirks. “Not better than you.”

You let out a dry laugh because it’s all you can manage and make an exaggerated nervous look at the clock. 

7:00 pm.

“We should probably head over, yeah?”

Sam clears his throat. “Yeah, yeah, are you ready?” He folds your kitchen towel and starts putting his rings back on as he walks to the front door.

You fiddle with your hat some more.

Better to be safe than sorry.

You go to put the hat on your head, and Sam chuckles from behind you.

“Isn’t it too late to be wearing a hat? The sun’s setting.” His tone is light and jokey, but it still stings a little.

“Oh, it was, ugh, I don’t know, haha.” You quickly make your way towards the door, leaving the hat on the counter.

“Wait, no, what?” Sam moves closer and places a hand on your arm, stopping you in your steps. You look up into his eyes, and his brows are pursed together in confusion and questioning.

“I was using it for ‘protection.” You throw up fake quotation marks and give a light chuckle, deeply embarrassed.

“I’ll protect you.” Sam blurts out, and before you can even respond, he’s quick to correct himself.

“I won’t let you be alone tonight. That’s what I meant. I’ll stay by your side…if you want.”

“Oh, um, okay.” You cringe internally at the entire situation and make your way outside, passing by Sam’s body in the doorway, making a conscious effort not to look at his face. You don’t think you could survive looking into his eyes with only a few inches between you.

I need to get myself together…quickly.

Sam walks out and walks down your steps as you lock up.

“I was thinking I could teach you how to ride?” Sam says as he pulls up his skateboard from the porch.

As you walk down the steps, you shake your head a little, “Not that’s okay, I'd probably just fall over.”

Sam chuckles, “You think I’d let you fall?”

It’s orange outside now, and there is a cool summer breeze that passes by just as you feel the heat crawl up your body again. It’s almost as if nature is helping you chill out. 

“Um, no, I don’t.” You give a little laugh, and Sam reaches his hand out to you, one foot on the board.

“It’ll get us there faster anyways.”

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In the end, it doesn’t.

His best efforts to stabilize you made you a shaky mess, causing you to tumble off the board and into his arms way too many times to count.

Sam’s heavy hands on your waist as he walked alongside you on the board made you dizzy the whole time. The coldness of his rings bled through the thin fabric of your dress, making his touch ten times more intoxicating.

That and the fact that his grip was so tight, your dress kept riding up. At one point, he even made a point to pull it down himself before running alongside you to distract you from the action with speed (which only made your dress hike up again).

“You know, you're not so bad at this,” he says as you approach the cobblestone, slowing down before firmly plucking you off the skateboard.

You flush again because you are both very aware that you could have stepped off the skateboard without hurting yourself, but whatever.

“Well, I have a pretty good teacher.” You say before tugging your dress down...again.

“Why, thank you,” He laughs before he grabs his skateboard and fiddles with it for a bit before adding, “Maybe I could teach you properly, you know, another time?”

It’s a hazy purple-pink outside now, and yet Sam is still haloed by the gentle fading light of the sun. Somehow, the universe just decides to highlight and pedestal him whenever it can, turning every moment that should be normal into a cinematic scene.  

“I’d like that.” You say before turning on your heel and making a slow approach to the Saloon.

It takes a few seconds before you hear the quick shuffle of Sam’s scuffed-up Converse catching up to you, and before you know it, he’s right beside you, arm brushing against yours ever so slightly in your walk.

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When you finally make it to the Saloon, it isn’t as busy as you’d thought it would be. Sam leaves you near the entrance a beat after you enter to say hi to Abigail and Sebastian. You don’t mind his absence, needing a moment to still your beating heart.

You look around the saloon as Sam walks away, turning back every two seconds to check up on you. You lock eyes with Penny, who’s already looking at you by the time you look at her, and she gives you a small wave.

You didn’t know Penny well, but you knew she and Sam were close. You remembered seeing them dance at the flower dance together and a few times after that just around town, but you didn’t really know the extent of their relationship. Surely, if Sam was here with you, that meant that nothing was going on between them, right?

You walk over to her table despite a familiar sick feeling rising in your gut.

“Hi, Penny.” There is a stool at her table, but you remain standing. Sam was gonna come back any minute anyway, and you weren’t too keen on sitting at a table with the both of them for the remainder of the night.

“Y/N! How nice to see you away from the farm, " she says, fiddling with a muffin wrapper on the table. Before you can respond, she adds, “You’re here with Sam?”

“Oh… yeah. He thought I needed some time out and about; I guess everyone thinks that.” You laugh a little and wish you had something to fiddle with as well.

Penny gives a short laugh, “We all just like seeing you around, that’s all.”

You don’t know if you believe her, but before you can respond, her eyes are trailing away from yours to something…no, someone behind you. They seem to soften at whoever she’s looking at, and a few beats later, Sam’s standing right next to you at the table.

“Good evening, Penny.” He says with a goofy smile on his face.

You hear a whistle behind you and turn around to see Sebastian and Abigail peeking around a corner of the Saloon. Abigail is wriggling her eyebrows in your direction, and Seb has a god-awful smirk on his face.

You turn around quickly, looking down at your boots, and can hear Sam clear his throat.

“Hi, Sam. So kind of you to bring our lovely farmer out.” Penny says, her hands on the table.

“About time, right?” He nudges you with his shoulder.

“Yeah, most definitely.” You say, giving them both the warmest smile you could conjure up.

“Now, Miss Penny, if you don’t mind,” he moves behind you and places both hands on your shoulders, gently turning you to the bar, “I’m gonna get our farmer a drink.”

Penny gives a light laugh, but Sam has let go of your arms before you can even say goodbye and is walking ahead of you to the bar.

You look over your shoulder in hopes of giving Penny a wave, but you only catch her orange skirt on the door frame as she leaves the saloon.

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The last time you were at a bar, it was in ZuZu City. What was supposed to be a fun night out with some coworkers ended up with you throwing up in an alleyway and then again in a taxi. One too many cosmopolitans. You miss the feeling a little. Being unknown in a bar, wearing tight shimmery dresses, desire in the air, and shitty expensive drinks with exotic names. You approach Sam at the bar, and despite the lack of patrons, you stand so close your arms touch for the millionth time that night.

At this moment, you can’t help but think about how drastically your life changed in just a year.

The gentle hum of the jukebox playing “Hold You in My Arms” by Ray LaMontagne, the softness of Sam’s skin on yours, the yellow lighting, and beer and wine being the only things on the drink menu. Something about this trumped the feeling of a sleazy dive bar. Sure, there was a desire in the air…but it wasn’t scary. It didn’t prompt you to take three “Green Tea Shots” back-to-back to quell the nerves. It was gentle and promising. You still couldn’t believe this was a part of your life now.

Sam clears his throat to get Gus’s attention and holds up a crinkly twenty-dollar bill. “What can this get us?” His voice comes out shaky.

You get the impression that this isn’t something Sam does often. Well, not the drinking bit, but ordering it at a bar.

Gus raises an eyebrow and takes the bill from Sam’s hands, holding it up to the light and faux inspecting it with a smirk on his face.

Sam sucks his tongue and shakes his head “C’mon Gus.”

“Hey, you can never know with your generation. Two beers?” He raises an eyebrow at the both of you, and you smile back. “Yes, please.”

“And how are you doing, farmer?” Gus goes to pour the beers as the question lingers in the air.

“Good!” you offer enthusiastically. “Summer crops are all planted...So that’s good.”

“That’s…Good?” Gus jokes and places the beers on the bar.

You give a light laugh and take the beer in your hands.

“Thank you, Gus!” Sam adds as he one-handedly grabs his beer, places his free hand on your lower back, and ushers you away from the bar to a table near the jukebox.

“He usually doesn’t give me a hard time.” He leans down and side-whispers into your ear, which causes your brain to short-circuit. All you can do is hum in response.

This might kill me.

He goes to pull out your chair, and when you sit, he pulls the diagonal seat closer to yours before sitting down and smiling at you.

Okay, this will definitely kill me.

“Gus’s beer is the best.” He says before taking a big gulp. You go for a small sip, and he’s right. It is a really good beer. You make a mental note to ask Gus about his technique.

“So…” you offer into the silence.

“So…” Sam says back, chuckling after. “I’m glad you decided to come out tonight.”

“Yeah, me too. My body definitely needed this.” You hold the beer up before taking another drink.

After a few more swallows, the conversation comes easily. Sam talks about work and his dad, but mostly his music.

“Yeah, I’ve got some stuff I'm working on now if you ever wanna stop by and listen.” Another sip.

“At this point, we’ve got like three dates lined up.” You blush as soon as the words leave your mouth, and you're torn between taking another sip or putting the beer down because, clearly, you’ve had enough. You take another sip despite that fact and pull your eyes up to Sam’s.

He’s blushing.

“I guess I just really want to see you.” And with that, he downs the rest of his beer.

This time, the butterflies in your gut don’t stir from anxiety but from something else. Something less tangible and indistinguishable but so, so good.

“Well, then, how can I say no?” You try and fail at finishing the rest of your beer, a piss-poor attempt at mimicking his confidence.

He chuckles, and the sound sends tingles all over your body.

“Okay, but first, I need to know if you like rock music.” He raises an eyebrow.

“Um…” You ponder on the question. You couldn’t say that you listened to rock music often, not recently at least.

“I used to listen to a lot… back in my youth.” You finish off your beer, feeling it in your head and your legs. The butterflies must be boozy, too, now because they have seemingly gone to sleep.

“You say that like you're old or something,” Sam says before getting up from his seat and offering you his hand.

“Technically, I am old, older than you.” You make a one-over look at his ring-clad hand before adding, “What's this?”

“I’m gonna play a song for you. On the jukebox. C’mon.” His fingers beckon for you to get up, so you do because if there’s one thing liquor makes you be, it is obedient.

His rings are cold against your hand as he leads you to the jukebox, and you internally whine at the absence of his touch when he lets you go to fiddle with the options.

“If you know this song, I owe you another beer, and if not…” He raises his eyebrow.

You laugh a little and then get immediately nervous.

Please let me know the song.

The intro to “Take Me Out” by Franz Ferdinand starts playing, and you have to giggle because who on earth doesn’t know this song? Sam looks down at you, and instead of giving him an answer, you start to sing along with the song.

“So if you’re lonely, you know I'm here waiting for you…”

Sam’s face lights up immediately, and he claps his hands.

“Wow, I guess I owe you another beer.”

“Oh, c’mon Sam, everyone knows this song.”

Sam throws his hands up in the air before making his way back to the bar, and this time, it looks like Gus doesn’t give him a hard time. Hell, you even think that you see Gus wink at him as he makes his way back over to you.

“One beer for the pretty farmer.” He says as he hands you a full pint.

“Thank you,” You say before taking a big gulp.

“Do you know any drinking games?” Sam says, now leaning on the jukebox, his face very close to yours. You don’t flush from the proximity, and maybe it’s because of the beer, or maybe it is because, under the yellow light and lenses of damn good beer, Sam is so pretty.

To be honest, Sam was always really pretty, very breathtaking, but now... something made him shine. There was a pull that made you want to lean in and fully dissect every element of his face. Of his being.

You hum lightly as your eyes trace over his face before saying, “It’s not technically a drinking game, but, Never Have I Ever?”

You watch as Sam rolls his eyes before he licks at his lip ring and answers, albeit sarcastically, “No, y/n, I have never played, never have I ever.” Despite his answer, he throws up a ring-clad hand and says, “Can I go first?”

You roll your eyes. “Sure, hit me.”

He juts out his bottom lip in feign thought before he raises his eyebrows as if he’s had a realization.

“What does the winner get?”

You blink at him a few times before shrugging. “What do you want? If you win, that is.”

There seems to be no point to fake think this time as Sam rounds the jukebox machine to get closer to you before leaning in and whispering in your ear, “A kiss.”

You feel warm all over and a little dizzy, but the nerves that usually pulse through your veins when Sam is near are nowhere to be found, just a warm wanting. You want to kiss him.

The idea of faking wrong answers passes through your mind, but you push it down because if you were going to kiss Sam, it would have to be won by him fair and square. And if you won... well, you’d just find another to kiss him.

“Okay. I’ll kiss you.” It comes out quick, and you feel a little embarrassed by the laugh it pulls from Sam.

“Woah, farmer, that’s only when I win.” He winks and puts his hand up again. “You first.” He says, his eyes lazily drawing over your face.

“Hmm, okay. Never have I ever been lost in the mines after curfew.”

Sam blinks at you a few times before slowly putting a finger down, and you fake a gasp.

“Okay, okay, just don’t tell my mom; she’ll freak.”

“Sam, Sam, Sam, I never would have thought.” You say before taking another sip of your beer, it’s almost empty now, and your bottom lip feels numb at the intoxication it brings

                                                      ⌁₊˚⊹  ⊹˚₊⌁

The questions come and go, and by the time it’s almost midnight, you're left with one finger, and Sam is left with two. Most of his questions were farm-related, and you’d be annoyed at the fact that you were losing if you weren’t getting rewarded for your loss. But you are.

“Okay, farmer, you ready for this one?” he wiggles his two fingers, and you giggle, wiggling your one finger back.

“Never have I ever been a farmer in Stardew Valley.”

You roll your eyes for what feels like the millionth time tonight. Not out of actual annoyance, but because Sam is just that good. Knows all the right words, right things to do and say. Knows how to kill the final question in Never Have I Ever.

You put your one finger down, and before you can say anything to memorialize your loss, Sam’s palms are on your neck, and his lips are on yours, wet and needy.

The kiss is over before you even know it, and he’s pulling back, all big-eyed and tender-looking. With his face still within an inch of yours, he smirks and says, “I win.”

You nod dazedly, your eyes still on Sam’s lips.

“You want another?” Sam hiccups and rubs his thumb on your cheek. You nod, and Sam is leaning in, licking at his piercing before you connect again.

Sometime during all of the fuss, you put your glass down and allow your hands to roam over Sam’s arms and down to his biceps. He’s pretty solid, and as you reach to run your hands under his shirt, you hear a loud clearing of the throat at the bar.

In sync, you and Sam pull away from each other and turn to the sound, only to be pleasantly greeted with Gus’s frown.

“Closing up soon. You kids should head home.” He says before making a pointed look at Sam, “Make sure she makes it back home.”

You flush from embarrassment, but Sam grabs your hand, gives a head nod to Gus, and pulls you out of the Saloon before it can seep in.

                                                       ⌁₊˚⊹  ⊹˚₊⌁

Before you can register what’s happening, the boozy feeling in your mind and legs making everything feel wobbly, Sam is pulling you to the side of the saloon, and his lips are on yours again.

He tastes like beer and sorbet and sweat and summer. It’s magical the way Sam kisses. It’s nothing like you’ve ever felt before. To be fair, you’ve never been pressed up against the side of a saloon on a warm summer night kissing the guy of your dreams. Your hands make their way up into his hair, and it’s so soft, so you grip it because it’s angel hair, truly. Sam moans into your mouth and kisses his tongue inside.

He liked that?

You can feel everything, everywhere. The brick wall, Sam’s heavy front, and even heavier mouth. He keeps one hand on your neck, his thumb running up and down, trying to pull you closer than you already are. The other finds its way to your thigh and pulls one of your legs up and around him, slotting himself closer to you.

Oh my gosh, he’s huge.

The pressure of his body is intense and needy and all too much and not enough at the same time.

He pulls back, and even in the dim light that the tavern provides, you can see the need in his eyes and the kissed-out pink on his lips. He’s absolutely angelic. “Is this okay?” he nudges his nose into your neck, peppering it with kisses and sniffs as if he is trying to capture your scent and trap it in his memory.

His hand on your thigh travels higher, hiking your thin white dress up even higher, but he stops right before he hits your panty line, thumbs tracing hesitant circles into your skin.

You can sense he’s waiting for an answer, but the fireflies dancing just behind his head distract you for a second. What did you do in a past life to deserve this? What bug did you save that was an angel in disguise that pardoned you from a life without this kind of pleasure?

 He leaves wet, sloppy kisses down your neck and grinds himself into you, and you can actually feel him. “Y/N?” He looks up, his brows taught with desire. His eyes dart back and forth between yours and your lips, and he looks so needy you can’t even bring yourself to say anything.

You nod your head quickly before grabbing his face and pulling him back into a kiss. Salty and boozy and so intoxicating. Sam is a good kisser. Like really good.

It’s like he studied the right amount of pressure to apply, when to purse his lips into yours, when to swirl his tongue around, and when to pull it back. He even gives your tongue a little suck before pulling back and peppering your lips and cheeks before diving back in again, giving you time to breathe.

Who taught him this?

To shun the thought of Sam kissing literally anybody but you out of your mind, you pull him closer to you (which seems impossible at this point).

Sam lets out probably the sexiest laugh you've ever heard in your life before pulling away from the kiss and biting your lip, using his thumb to soothe the sting that’s left.

The sting is long gone after a few seconds, evaporating into something stronger, but he keeps his thumb there, swiping back and forth at the wetness left from your kiss.

“You like me?” He says as he looks at your lips like he wants to see them say yes. Commit the action to his memory and replay it whenever he gets the chance.  His free hand (free is subjective considering how it was just squeezing and caressing your thigh two seconds ago) travels closer to your panty line, and when he finally reaches it, he snaps it.

You jolt. Everything about this is just too much. You think back to only a few hours later when you couldn’t even fathom the touch of Sam’s arm against yours, and now…well, now things are very different.

Sam laughs into your neck from your reaction and draws his finger in between your skin and the fabric of your panties, which are now thoroughly soaked. It tickles, so you pull away a little, but Sam sucks his tongue and pushes himself closer to you.  

You can’t even focus on the task at hand because the view of your bodies this close together is borderline pornographic, and honestly, if you could take a picture with your eyes, you would.

“Y/N,” he says carefully, almost shyly, using his hand to tilt your chin up to meet his eyes. “Do you?”

At this moment, Sam is everything. Your heart and breath get heavy, and you need to calm yourself down before you combust into a thousand beams of light and never get to feel this again because you’ve become a part of the atmosphere.

Five things you can see?

Sam’s lust-ridden eyes, peering into your soul. 

Sams’s pink cheeks, his even pinker lips.

Fireflies in the distance, glowing in and out. Haloing him.

The moon; full and beaming.

Four things you can touch?

You run your hand up Sam’s arm, which is taut and slightly muscular. It travels up and up to Sam's neck, and he leans into the touch before you fiddle with his earring and then reach into his hair before dragging your hand down to his lips, mimicking his action from before.

Three things you can hear?

The bugs outside are buzzing loudly, but they have nothing on the deep, heavy breaths Sam is taking as you play with his bottom lip. He hums gently before leaning in to kiss you again.

Two things you can smell?

Beer and the summer air at night.  

One thing you can taste?

Sams’s lips finally touch yours again, and you can’t even compute the taste. It just tastes like him. It’s deep and wet and needy and tastes like heaven. You pull back and lick at the piercing on his bottom lip before diving back into his lips. You want to kiss him deeper, but he pulls away and presses his forehead against yours.

“I don’t want-” Sam starts, but you cut him off this time.

“Yes, yes, Sam. I like you.” It comes out needier and breathier than you would have liked, but the look on Sam’s face eases any embarrassment your brain could even come up with to ruin the moment.

“God, you are so pretty,” Sam says before peppering kisses onto your lips. Every time his lips pull away, even though it’s for a millisecond, you long for them, feeling helplessly needy.

 The feeling is heavy in your chest. Need. Want. Desire.

Sam’s hand is going back up to your dress and presses at your clothed heat, pulling the wet fabric to the side before tracing his middle finger through your sex.

“Oh shit you are so we-“

 “AHEM.” You both jolt apart quick to see Gus standing in the now paling light of the Saloon.

“You’d both better get home.” Gus is walking away before either of you can respond. You can see him shaking his head slowly as he walks away.

“Oh, shit.” You say, turning to Sam, giggling.

He’s got a stupid smile plastered on his face as he gets down on one knee, his face at your abdomen, and he’s pulling down and smoothing out your hiked-up dress before leaving a kiss right above your navel and getting back up.

“It’s getting late.” He kicks up his skateboard from the bush he hid it in only hours before. “Feel safe riding home?”

Despite the beer coursing through your veins and the uneasiness that comes with each step, you nod your head. Anything to feel Sam’s heavy hands on your body again.

                                                         ⌁₊˚⊹  ⊹˚₊⌁

The ride back home takes twice as long. Every time you fell off the skateboard, Sam met you with a heated kiss and said, “It’s okay, Y/N. You can try again.” His hands were warmer than ever, steady on your waist, and when your dress began to hike up this time, he didn’t even bother pulling it down, drunk eyes roaming all over your figure.

Eventually, you got the hang of it, riding on the board without his assistance, dress flowing in the wind, a screamed laugh of excitement leaving your lungs.

When the board came to a halt, you turned around expecting to see Sam close at your behind, but he was actually a few ways back, arms crossed, smiling.

                                                       ⌁₊˚⊹  ⊹˚₊⌁

You watch Sam skate off into the moonlight, and when he turns around to wave, wobbling on his board, he has the biggest, dorkiest smile on his face. You don’t realize it, but you do, too.

When he finally rides out of sight, you go back inside but can’t get yourself to let go of the door handle. A part of you wanted to run back outside and call out his name and invite him inside. For what? You couldn’t even answer that question yourself.

[alexrosa13]

Valentine Encounters

Greyson x female!reader

Genre: fluff

Warnings: 800 words, 3rd person perspective

Note: fanfiction for my Valentine's Event

for masterlist and request info head to the navigation →

how did Zayne's evening go →

~★~

... Greyson was stressing out more than Zayne about this whole thing, not caring about what he'll do on the day that's supposed to be spent with your loved one, since he was way too shy to ask his crush out, luckily, his crush came to him...

Work in the hospital kept him busy, but the thoughts about his 'friend's' plan kept him stressing, even tho there were 0,001% chances for something to go wrong. He couldn't help but feel anxious, I mean it was a huge step for their relationship and he knew just how important that woman was to doctor Zayne, her refusal would absolutely break him.

Today's shift was about to end, wrapping up paperwork at the front desk he was thinking about what to do back at home, with nothing interesting coming to mind.

While putting his signature on one of the papers he heard the voice of the one person who always seemed to show up at the worst (best) time, always teasing him on the way. He didn't want to fall for her, but with her every visit at the hospital it was harder and harder to keep his dreamy thoughts at bay. But then again: there's no way she would ever glance his way with romantic intentions in mind. She probably preferred someone who could flirt back confidently and sweep her off her feet.

"Yes, thank you, I'll make sure to keep an eye on my diet for this week." just the sound of her beautiful voice made his ears heat up. She had some issues with her stomach, that's all he heard from the nurses checking on her, but she didn't need to stay at the hospital for monitoring, so it was probably nothing major.

After a couple more pleasantries exchanged with the nurse she turned around with a paper in her hand, not noticing him at first.

Quickly he lowered his head back to the papers, praying for her not to notice him eavesdropping on her conversation.

His prayers were however ignored by the gods, and he heard that same voice now right behind him.

"Greyson, hi!" he turned his head her way, now praying for her not to notice his pinkish cheeks.

"Hello." was she always this enthusiastic? She seemed pretty calm when talking to that nurse...

"How is my favorite doctor doing?" her smile made him feel butterflies flying all around his stomach, not to add her comment: a favorite doctor? He felt like a teenager talking to his crush.

"Well, just finishing up paperwork before finally getting off work." he dropped his eyes to the papers once again, unable to hold the eye contact.

"Oh so you're free for the rest of the evening?" she asked with a... hopeful tone? Was he imagining things?

"Well, yes." he probably imagined that.

"Well then... What do you say to spending the rest of the evening with me?" his eyes went up to her once more, confused, was she asking him to go out? Well it was probably just as friends, right? "We could go watch some movie or go get some food? Well I'm kinda on a diet right now due to my stomach rebelling against me, but I'm sure we can still find some restaurant that serves the food I'm allowed to eat."

He didn't miss the slight hesitation in her voice and the way her eyes seemed to run around her surroundings just to avoid meeting with his.

"Only if you want to, of course." finally she gazed at him, a gentle and nervous smile on her lips. His brain lagged for a moment, is he imagining it?

"I..." should he agree and probably fall harder for her just because of that one meeting or refuse her and not make himself catch another heartbreak.

But the look in her eyes made it impossible to turn her down, I mean, he could keep his feelings to himself just to keep her happy, right? That's what she would want from him, to be just friends...

"I would love to hang out with you." he said, hopefully masking the disappointment he felt at the thought of being friend-zoned.

"Great! So you go sort out your work stuff and I'll wait for you right here." she said, immediately cheering up at his agreement.

He can suck it up for one evening, it won't be hard, right?

"I just need to go and change clothes, I'll be right back." leaving the paperwork to be sorted by the front desk workers he sent her a smile.

What he didn't expect was to get a quick kiss on his check from the woman of his dreams...

"I can't wait to go on a date with you!" she jumped up a little at her excitement before turning around to sit in the waiting area, checking something on her phone.

Dumbfounded he made his way to the changing room, the event which just took place still not really coming through to him.

Just when he changed from his work clothes and looked in the mirror he finally realized...

A DATE?

[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

[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).

[hwonnrinji]

hi guys . I deadass js realized that long thread we had goinf on w reblogs nd stuff my reblog didnt go thru ?? like it js deleted my entire text hence y my last reblog for that thread was like blank . 😭😭😭💔 stupid tumbkr omds

ANYWAY ! i frwakinf hate the sciences so bad like im good at every other subject but science i fear id rather be hwld at gunpoint than ever touch science after i graduate🙁 PLSS i wanted to take ap osych but im lwk mad lazy for that and my skl put a 3 ap per year maximum 😅😅 like damn okay . yall js hatw to see me succeed 😒😒😒 GAWAHHH i loge dpr so much like i deadass had mood on repeat for so long bcs of this one yeonjun edit that transformed my life i fear ! MERRY GO IS SOOO freakinf Good i love it so mich

i donr have my own room guys. ive been sharing w my sister for the past few years😢😢 its okat tho idrc bc anyw im barely in my room like most of the time im js in my living room doing my work nd stuff bc ion wannna bother my stupid sister like that💔💔 also cs shes mad stinky when she gets off her shift nd is home . LMFAO omg ur evil pushing smn off their bed 😭😭😭

girl i got like 1 valentines day fic in line and i fwar i prob will not finish it b4 valentines day . god pls give me rhe will to start picking up writing again. i have this ONE fic idea that lwk is fire like acc fire like so amazeballs and awesome sauce nd shit 😊😊 pls pray i finish it !!! AND GOSH U R A GENIUSSS like ur mind works wonders… cool w u… YESS GAWDDD i love cool w u SOO MUCH its one of my favs of nwjns plus get up and hypeboy and hurt‼️‼️ ive been tucked in bed at 9:30 since like. 3rd grade. ion play when it comes to having a healthy sleep schedule i fear. i CANNOT have eyebags ever idc 💔 i would nawt look good w eyebags oms. why tf is olaf taller tahn the average girl what the hell😭😭😭

LMAO I FIGURED like why is there just a reblog there shld be smth 😭😭😭 i love science so much oml that is my BAE right there ❤️❤️ lololol i got a year before i graduate i hear the gunshots already ME NEXT !!! my ap pysch is sooo funny for some reason like i love my group frfr 🙏 you js gotta dab on the haters ning (a member of the dance club told me that) dpr is my lifeline i don't fear. no blueberries has been charting on vinh's top 3 bcuz it's js so addicting 🤓☝️

i feel bad for you twin, i can't imagine sharing a sleeping space with someone because what if they're a snorer... then what? 😞 what if they sleep talk/walk and kill me... then what? 😞😞 OHEMGEE I HATEE being in my living room...😬😬 it's peaceful but when the adults come home from work it's like all hell js broke loose. i cannot and i mean cannot handle another loud laugh coming from my anyone's mouth when i'm trying to watch tv 💔💔💔 LMFAO stinky. i call my eldest brother stinkabutt because he reaks of wtv it is. what can i say? im a pusher 😜

dear ning pls bless us with another fic before i kay em ess. PLEASEEEEE 🙏🙏 heh my friends say im special 😼 but probably not the kind of positive special... scratches head. may cwy receive more recognition because the budget for mv must've been high 😭🙏🙏 im gonna be so fr rn... 9:30 is when i eat dinner LOL. sometimes not even, like it rlly depends. i can be eating my first meal at 5pm and eat my last at 10 💀💀 i play when it comes to a sleep schedule, i remember pulling 3 all nighters in a row. pretty sure i was hallucinating on the 3rd night. eyebags kind of fit me lololol but it makes me look emo and it beats my nonchalant aura. #NOTsigmaofme

not to mention i taught a bunch of working adults who can drink, drive, and smoke brainrot. like i was explaining the difference between skibidi toilet and evil skibidi toilet, and how they're not the same but they're twins yk. and also slangs like "clock it" or "sigma/alpha" and no sigma and alpha are not the same, alpha is below sigma, you geekers.

[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!

[sunny-kimmy]

Hi.

So here are the 24 things that happened to me or what I learned this 2024. This might be a little longer than what I usually write, or not, I don’t know yet, we’ll see how the list goes.

25th birthday. Booked an airbnb so I can host a heartwarming dinner for my friends. Theme: pajamas! (After that weekend, I realized how much I loved planning—so capricorn of me lol). It is a tiny party but full of love.

Galentine’s day. Another hosting event, this time in a restaurant called Single Origin, went from coffee to cocktail hour real quick! Spending a girls day with your family (my titas & cousins) on Valentine’s day was a breath of fresh air.

Korea. My fourth out of the country travel with my boyfriend (at that time—my fiancé now), & this time with his entire family. Loved every moment, and we took our time, not stressing if we follow itinerary or not, just taking our time.

Digicam era. Never seen myself as someone who has a camera on hand 24/7 (I swear, sometimes you’ll never know.), but here I am on my second one.

Thailand. Fifth country. Let’s just say we did things that we’re never allowed to tell. What we did told our parents though: elephant sanctuary (my favorite ever, if you’ve been here a long time, you know how much I resonate with them and how much I love them), & bike tour (where my bike obsession started.)

My first ever bike, Tangerine the Liv. We’ve been through ups & downs this year but let me just thank my body for being healthy, for my two legs so I could pedal my problems away. More miles to go!

Pilates. Went back to my first love! The first ever workout that worked wonders for me & still is. Stopped for quite a while, tried lifting (gym membership) & others, but pilates just always makes me calm & steady.

Siargao. 3rd time to go back in the span of 10months, but this time with my favorite cousin. Along with one of my highschool friends (who lives in NY for years now) & his girlfriend (who, I can say one of the unexpected friendship this year, definitely a girl I can trust with my life). Also, this is the place where I learned that I have fear of heights now, yes the girl who loved riding roller coaster, anchor’s away, & such is a scaredy cat now, wouldn’t even jump on a cliff even if I’ve tried it so many times. But I guess it just happens.

New nephew. He is not here just yet, but a little birdie (his mom) told me he’s also a capricorn—like me and his mom! Can’t wait to see you little nuggie.

Computer games. Now this isn’t new, just want to include that I’m still doing it. Especially since this is the only outlet that me & my best friends ran to, on days we miss each other & on days we just want to escape reality.

Discord. Again, this is for me & my best friends. We cried, we laughed, we hung out, we drank on this app.

Promotion. Started this year with a promotion at my work, didn’t even know I needed that change of pace but somehow even if I have so much responsibilities now, it was easier for me to have that work-life balance. I never mention anything about work, but this time let me just be grateful.

Books. Okay now this is bullshit, because I think I never even finished one? I did bought more though, but that’s okay, still a hobby, it’s a process haha. Biggest compliment I ever received from my dad though, “Kim, can I borrow one of your books, it seems interesting.”

Church. Since I want this to be an honest post, let me just say that having a relationship with Our Savior is still a bit rocky. I think it’s hard to have a conversation with someone intangible, but still there’s something beautiful in it, believing in something you choose, having faith even on hard days. There were days where I cuss everyone out, I’m not proud but believe me karma kicked me in the butt this year or the previous years, no need to be mean. But yes, I pray, I go to church (rarely, I could count them in my fingers), that’s life. Can’t even explain it, but I need to pray some more.

I’m a fiancé now. It was beautiful, we went back to the place where it all started. Still can’t believe how I can love someone this much. Wedding planning is a trust the process kinda thing, and this year I learned to just stick with the plan and not care what anybody thinks.

New apartment. I live with my fiancé, his’ best friend (with his girlfriend). I’m at peace now, I now have a home. But it’s far from my family and friends, sometimes it gets lonely, but I’ll get used to it as per usual.

Greenvalley pawtel. Finally made our pet hotel come to life this year, all thanks for my dad’s passion with animals & my mom’s hard work, they made it happen, I was just the inspiration and the little push.

GNX. Uhm hello? Kendrick Lamar releasing an album out of nowhere, no promo, no post, no anything what the fuck? A blessing indeed. Also, the kdot & drake feud, listened to diss tracks for unhealthy amount of time, I’m not even joking. I need Kendrick’s fuel to get through anything lol (also, y’all thought i was crazy whenever i skip drake songs since the beginning of time & it took a while but the reason came out now haha all in the gut people, I have the intuitive energy believe me). Lana—SOS deluxe. Sza, my girl, thank you for your energy. Also thanks to my fiancé for understanding that listening to this album comes with emotions, I can sing this freaking album like I’m hurt as fuck but happily engaged still haha. (Counting these two as one ok)

My high school friend’s Jollibee birthday party. Haven’t been to a kiddie themed birthday party because we’re titas and titos now, I’m just happy I get to celebrate with my friends who I haven’t seen for a long time. My old self wouldn’t join the games, but my shy self went in front of the crowd anyway (& I actually enjoyed it), I don’t even know why I was shy in the first place.

Buying things and actually using it. Now this, I’m proud of. I grew up using a lot of hand me downs as toys, clothes, gadgets, etc. so I’ve adapted this habit that whenever I buy/receive new gift, I don’t use it UNLESS it is a special day. And now I’m slowly practicing to remove that habit and replace it with a positive outlook—life is short, use that freaking shoes!

Feminine side. Growing up with brothers, hanging out with guy friends really sticks with you and so I think I leaned more to my masculine side. How I dress, my hobbies, everything revolved around that side, really thought that was me not until I discovered (out of nowhere) that there is more to it. I tried experimenting more this year, consistent manicure pedicure, hair laser removal, eyebrow wax, & eyelash perm, consistent hair trim (and tried different styles & colors), and its such a wonderful experience. Experimented on dress styles, as well as posting OOTD and selfies whenever I feel cute or whenever I feel like it. Being a girl is just something beautiful.

Speak up. No explanation needed I guess, just learned that if your thoughts are loud, you have to release those words, no matter how hard. But still, learning when and how you say it is such a powerful gift, please use it mindfully.

Being silent. Yes, the opposite of what I just said. It’s not an opponent, it’s something you embrace. Sometimes words just not come out much, or sometimes it does—but they don’t deserve it. They don’t deserve your thoughts, a piece of you, don’t send it. Delete that draft. Just don’t.

Be still. Patience is what I learned this year, and what I’ve been learning the past few years, probably what I would learn again next year, and next life. Yes, hard work gives result, but please, let’s be honest, sometimes if it doesn’t come your way, accept that it’s not for you. It is a hard pill to swallow, I know, believe me, but you have to let it go. Trust delayed gratification. You will never miss out on what’s truly meant for you, so please be still and have faith, pray some more and wait.

I guess that’s it, honestly I planned on putting photos and I feel like I have more but this’ll do for now. Took me two days to finish this, when I was certain I wouldn’t be able to. Surprised myself that beautiful words will still come out of me, I just have to try. If you sticked around, thank you. I hope everyone gets good karma this year, I’m done with the hate, I’ll try to be more mindful with what I attract, we only deserve the energy that brings out the best in us.

Happy new year!

[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.

[darcydarlingdabbles]

❣️🖋️ Darcy Darling’s Writing Update 🖋️

❣️

Feb 26, 2025

🩷Fanfics |✒️Original Fics |🩸Fave Comments

~Fanfics~

At Valentine's Day

This fanfic finishes today!

It's been my favorite in the series so far, ugh I love wedding chaos

...guess what, this series is now a series...with plans for 5 more parts!! Yikes, I'm insane.

Falling for the Morningstars ~

They. Finally. Fucking. Kissed.

Mr. Silver Tongue can turn anything into an innuendo, just wait.

No one has guessed my plot twist THIS TIME

Until the Devil's Last Dance ~

Had to take a little pause but will be back on Sunday

Reunited in hell and it feels so good~

If only Alastor could get over his damn self. And Lucifer still has no memories.

The Melody Between Us~

TOMORROW WE GET THE 8k SEX SCENE AHHHHH

Everytime I think the chapter is going to be a short one, nope, it's not. these fuckers like to talk.

Remember when this fic was about Vox being cucked...well, guess what?? It will be again~

~Original Fics~

Guessss what? You can read my original works for free for one year, with the code DARCYDARLING

Throuple vs Plant Zombie Apocalypse MMF

Book 1 was published on Jan 22, check it out here!

Book 4 has just started on my Ream

Our girl is having to bring her two boyfriends home to her dad and big brother...pray for her.

Smalltown Second Chance Sheriff MM

Book 1 Was published on Feb 19, check it out here.

Got one star lost on a review for southern accents...

You will not believe the fanfic this was based on my dudes.

Superheros & Soulmates MM

Book 1 will be published on March 19, check it out here.

This started out as a marvelous soulmate au, if you catch my drift

Why the fuck do I put myself through slow burns??

~Fave Comments~

"If he bites his ass... I'm going to die." "And I'm dead." Ream User on The Bites of Autumn Nights

"The description of every moment between them is so gorgeous and beautiful that it made me cry. I like that when Lucifer is weak, Alastor becomes a strong shield. And when Alastor feels insecurity about something, Lucifer provides comfort and encouragement, letting him know that it is safe to show his vulnerability" chunchun1991 on At Valentine's Day

"bitch crying T-T❤️‍🩹" Rina1889 on At Valentine's Day

"You know, after re-reading up to this point, it became abundantly clear why Alastor wanted to keep the afterglow to themselves in the previous fic (the one that inspired this one). It represents a lot more than just a nice moment after intimacy. It also explains why Alastor isn’t that bothered by being watched during sex, but not as much afterwards. That moment is just for them. For Lucifer who’s teaching Alastor that it’s ok to want and desire things for himself regardless of his sex. This is one of the reasons I love A/B/O fics so much; the primal urges and desires that give way for more touching moments and heartfelt emotions." TheCheshireCat01 on The Melody Between Us

"lol This is how you do possessive male in a healthy way!" Ream User on The Bites of Autumn Nights

Thanks for Reading, My Darlings~