#i just feel like my life should be different

[throwdownyourheart]

Y’all’re missing out by not including the entire post.

Text:

I just blacked out and ate a whole rotisserie chicken and got hard because of it. Is that normal on T?

Hey guys!!! I'll be 1 month on t on the 16th! Wahoo!

I hadn't feel much different except for my dick who has been screaming at me from my pants 24/7 like a dog wailing from a crate under its master's bed. It's fun ngl, i wish purchsasing sex toys from overseas wasnt illegal because MAN am i busy taking care of that. Lmao. lol even.

Anyways! today I woke up with a slight feeling that I had cotton in my troath and my voice felt like it was vibrating (if that makes sense). I wondered if I had catched something in college but no? I feel fine? Just hot like how that Jacob guy was feeling in New Moon (2009).

But my main issue (or only issue really) is that I went to take a nap and when I woke up I was FAMISHED for chicken. ABSOLUTELY RAVENOUS FOR A BIRD. Bro!!! I dont even rmemeber going to the chicken place; I just remembered opening the door, a flash forward to me in the chicken place and then BOOM: Me in my hammoc surrounded by chicken bones and empty honey packets (chicken with honey>>>).

(Nsfw) Also, at some point between the chicken juices dribbling down my chin and my face being stuffed with chicken breast bitten straight from the carcass I got smSO hard about it. And I don't even know if it was the way I was eating the chicken (tho i admit i was going ham on that thing), the fact that I was satisfying my chicken needs or because of the taste alone? I feel like a pervert in the best way but also in a slightly confused way, I've gotten turned on by innocuous shit in the past like someone showing me a new song but never slurping chicken????

Now I feel kinda bad by the way I judged teenage boys in my youth. Man, if I knew they were going feral over the smallest pleasures in life I would have given them more grace. I thought I knew sexual drive until I got on T and the satisfaction of cleaning my house got me railed up. My bad teenage boys, yall didn't make empathy easy but I should have persevered. (Nsfw)

Bacteria to the chicken.

Is this normal? This all consuming hunger? Is it because of the hormones??? I felt like I was a vampire in a frenzy but instead of sucking the life force off of a virgin I was sucking chicken bones it was WACK.

And if this animalistic chicken eating episodes are normal, when do they stop? Lord know I don't have chicken-once-a-week money so this better get under control FAST.

Also. The way people talk about hormone changes I thought it would be gradual, not a bunch of nothing followed by puberty hitting you like a brick to the dick, would have loved a heads up lmao.

EDIT: WHY THE FUCK WAS I FLASH-BANGED BY MY OWN POST ON TWITTER DOT COM

[solxamber]

Hi Sol! Hope your having a good February so far!

Could I get a: Leona, Romantic with Shivers by Ed Sheeran?

Happy early Valentine's day!

"Like my soul's on fire" || Leona Kingscholar

𝐅𝐨𝐫 𝐦𝐲 𝐕𝐚𝐥𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐞'𝐬 𝐄𝐯𝐞𝐧𝐭

𝐒𝐨𝐧𝐠: Shivers by Ed Sheeran

𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐂𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 650

𝐓𝐚𝐠𝐬: Happy Ending, Realization of feelings

Leona Kingscholar doesn’t chase things.

The world has always handed him its expectations, its disappointments, its half-hearted praises wrapped in thinly veiled insults. He’s learned to shrug it all off—to take only what he needs and sleep through the rest.

But then there’s you.

And Leona doesn’t chase, no—but he follows.

Because when you burst into his life, wild and restless, dragging him by the wrist into whatever chaos you’ve concocted this time, he finds himself moving before he can think. He groans, he complains, he calls you a menace—yet he always follows.

And it should irritate him. The way you throw yourself into things with no plan, no hesitation. The way you insist on midnight road trips with no destination, on dancing under flickering neon signs, on sneaking onto rooftops just to stare at the sky. It should be exhausting, annoying—

But damn it, you make his blood burn.

And Leona, for all his grumbling, has never felt more alive.

Tonight, it’s the city. You’re out past a reasonable hour, the streets buzzing with life, headlights flashing against wet pavement. There’s a chill in the air, but you barely seem to notice, too caught up in whatever scheme has taken hold of you this time.

Leona leans against the hood of his car, watching you with that lazy half-smirk that does nothing to hide the heat in his gaze.

“Tell me there’s a plan,” he drawls, even though he already knows the answer.

You flash him a grin, eyes alight with mischief. “Where’s the fun in that?”

And of course, he should’ve known. You live for the rush, for the spontaneity, for the feeling of wind whipping through your hair as you take a leap without looking. And the worst part?

You make him want to jump too.

Before he knows it, you’ve grabbed his hand, tugging him forward. And for all his complaints, he doesn’t resist.

He never does.

Hours blur together—bright lights, laughter, stolen kisses in the shadows of alleyways. Leona doesn’t remember the last time he let himself have fun, not like this. Not in a way that didn’t feel like a performance, like something expected of him.

But with you, it’s different.

With you, it’s easy.

You don’t want the prince. You don’t want the strategist, the second-born, the disappointment, the afterthought. You just want him.

And it terrifies him.

Because Leona has spent his whole life avoiding expectations he can’t meet, avoiding fights he can’t win. He never lets himself want things too much. It’s easier that way.

But then there’s you—laughing, warm, pressing close to him as the night lingers on—and he knows, deep down, that this is a battle he’s already lost.

It’s nearly dawn when you both end up somewhere quieter, the city still humming in the distance. You’re leaning against his shoulder, exhaustion finally catching up to you, but you’re smiling, your fingers lazily tracing patterns over the back of his hand.

Leona watches you, his mind a mess of things he’ll never say out loud.

You make him want things. You make him ache.

And then, in that quiet, reckless way of yours, you say, “Leona, let’s stay like this forever.”

His breath catches.

It’s a stupid thing to say. Impossible, even. Forever isn’t real—not for people like him, who have spent their lives being second place, almost-enough, not-quite-worthy.

But you look at him like you mean it. Like you really believe it’s possible.

And damn it all, maybe he wants to believe it too.

Leona exhales, pulling you closer, his lips brushing against your temple. “You sure you can handle forever with me?”

You tilt your head up, meeting his gaze, your smile soft but certain. “Try me.”

And Leona, who has spent his whole life avoiding the things he can’t win, decides—just this once—to stop running.

If this is a dream, he thinks, then he never wants to wake up.

Masterlist ; Valentine's Event

[mariclerc]

Hi, I wanted to ask if you could write something with Charles Leclerc based on the song Sports Car by tate mcrae

thank you for this request darling!! I did my best trying to recreate the exact meaning and the essence of the song into the blurb, I hope you like it!!

Let's go ride | cl16

Warning: fluff, suggestive language, insecure reader, somewhat unprotected smut don't try this at home (+18). Based on "Sports car" by Tate McRae.

It's late at night in Monte Carlo, the streets are so quiet, illuminated by the soft glow of streetlights and the twinkling lights of the harbor. You and Charles are in his Ferrari, the cool night air rushing through your hair. You’ve been dating for a while now, feeling comfortable in each other’s presence, but still with a spark of excitement that keeps things fresh.

The Ferrari cruises slowly along the waterfront, the music is low, some chilled-out electronic beats. You lean back in your seat, watching the lights dance on the water.

You sighed contentedly. “It’s so beautiful here baby, thank you for bringing me out.”

He glanced at you, a soft smile playing on his lips. “My pleasure, amour. Sometimes it’s nice to escape the chaos of the fast paced world and just… breathe... Especially with you.” (love)

He reaches out and takes your hand, squeezing it gently and you squeezed it back.

You look around. “It's crazy, though, seeing all this wealth, all this luxury… it almost feels unreal.”

He chuckled softly. “Welcome to Monaco! It's a different world, yeah, it is. But you get used to it.”

“I don't think I ever will, to be honest. It's like something out of a movie.” you say softly and he smiled.

“Maybe it is... Our very own movie, starring you and me.” he wink at you.

He drives in silence for a few minutes, navigating the winding streets with practiced ease. You watch him, admiring the way his hands move on the wheel, the way his jawline catches the light.

“You make it look so easy.” you think aloud.

“What, driving?” he asked, confused.

“Everything... Racing, dealing with the pressure, living this crazy life… you handle it all with such grace.”

He scoffed playfully. “Grace? You should see me after a bad race. I'm not always so… composed.”

“I know, but even then, you’re still… you. That’s what I admire.” you smiled.

His voice soft. “Thank you, babe. It’s not always easy, living in the spotlight. But having you by my side… it makes it a little bit easier... A lot easier.”

He turns down a quiet side alley, away from the main traffic. He pulls over to the side of the road, killing the engine, the silence is broken only by the sound of the waves lapping against the shore.

“What are you doing?”

He turned to face you, a mischievous glint in his eyes. “I thought we could use a little… privacy, don't you think?”

He leans in and kisses you, a slow, tender kiss that lingers. You melt into him, your hands reaching up to cup his face.

You pulled away slightly, breathless. “Privacy, huh?”

He nodded. “Yeah, and maybe a little bit of… this.”

He kisses you again, this time more passionately, his hands sliding down to your waist. You moan softly, your body tingling with anticipation.

He pulled you closer. “You are so beautiful, stellina. Do you know that?” (little star)

You blushed. “Yeah, I know... You tell me that all the time.” you giggled.

He nods. “Good, because I'm going to keep telling you until you believe it.”

He pulls you onto his lap, straddling him. You gasp slightly, surprised by the sudden movement.

“Charles! What are you doing?” you laughed nervously.

He kisses your neck. “Making sure my baby is comfortable. Are you comfortable, darling?” you nodded.

He continues to kiss you, his hands exploring your body. You wrap your arms around his neck, holding him close.

After a few moments of passionate kissing, you pull back slightly, a daring and wild idea forming in your mind.

You look at him, your voice is a little husky. “Charles…?”

His voice low, filled with desire. “Yes, tesoro?” (darling)

You hesitate for a moment, unsure if you should say what you're thinking. But the heat of the moment, the thrill of being with him, overpowers your shyness. He has always made you feel confident, both physically and mentally, and when it comes to being intimate, well, you're a little bit shy... But you have a feeling that might change tonight.

You speak with a newfound boldness. “I want to ride you.” you say softly, but sure.

Charles freezes, his eyes widening in surprise. The air crackles with a sudden electricity. “Ri… ride me? Here? Now?” he says, stammering.

You nodded, your eyes locking with his. “Yes... Here... Now.”

He swallowed hard. “But… amore.” (love)

“Is that a no?” you asked teasingly.

He shakes his head, a slow smile spreading across his face. “No, is not a no... Just… unexpected. But definitely… intriguing.”

“Good, because I've been thinking about it all night.” you smile.

His voice dropping to a whisper. “And what exactly have you been thinking about, stellina?”

You leaned closer, whispering softly. “About how good it would feel… to be on top, to be in control.”

Charles shivers, his eyes darkening with desire. “My god, baby... You are going to be the death of me.” his voice hoarse.

“Maybe, but it will be a good death.” you smiled mischievously.

You lean in and kiss him again, a kiss that promises a night of passion and exploration... This time, the kiss is more demanding, more urgent. You want him, and you want him now.

He pulled away slightly, his breathing ragged. “Alright, amore, you want to be in control, huh? Then show me.”

He leans back in his seat, giving you the space to move and you straddle him more fully, your bodies pressing together and you can feel his arousal against you, a confirmation of his desire.

The small confines of the Ferrari feel suddenly intimate, charged with a palpable energy. The city lights outside seem to fade into a soft blur as your focus narrows to Charles, to the heat radiating from his body, to the promise in his eyes.

He watches you, a mixture of awe and anticipation on his face, as you reach down and begin to unbutton your jacket. Your movements are slow, deliberate, each button undone a small act of defiance against the night, against the quiet alley, against the expectations of the world outside.

“Piano, amore. There's no rush.” his voice's husky, almost a whisper. (slow, love)

You looked up at him, a mischievous glint in your eyes. “I know... But I want you.”

You shrug off your jacket, letting it fall to the floor of the car. You're now wearing a simple dress that clings to your curves, Charles' gaze intensifies, tracing the lines of your body with an almost tangible heat.

His voice thick with desire. “You are breathtaking.”

You blush, your confidence is growing, fueled by his admiration. You reach behind you, fumbling with the zipper of your dress.

“Can you help me with this, please?” you struggle slightly.

He reaches out, his fingers brushing against your bare skin as he carefully lowers the zipper and a shiver runs down your spine.

His voice soft against your ear. “Of course, it's always a pleasure.”

As the zipper reaches the bottom, the dress slips off your shoulders, pooling around your waist. You're now straddling him in your lingerie - a set you chose specifically for this occasion, something that makes you feel both sensual and empowered.

Charles' breath hitches in his throat. He reaches out, gently tracing the lace of your bra with his fingertips.

His voice reverent. “Exquisite, just like you.” he leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to your collarbone. “May I…?” he whispered.

You nod, unable to speak, your heart pounding in your chest.

He gently unhooks the clasp of your bra, releasing your breasts. He gazes at them, his eyes filled with admiration.

“Perfect.” his voice husky and low.

He leans in and kisses one breast, then the other, his touch sending waves of pleasure through your body. You arch your back, moaning softly.

Now it's your turn and you reach out to him, your hands trembling slightly, and begin to unbutton his shirt. The fabric feels warm beneath your fingertips, infused with his scent. Charles closes his eyes, surrendering to your touch.

As you unbutton each button, you catch glimpses of his chest - the strong muscles, the faint scars that tell a story of a life lived on the edge. You trace the line of his jaw with your fingertips, then lean in and kiss his neck and he groans softly, his hands gripping your waist.

You finish unbuttoning his shirt and gently push it off his shoulders, his chest is now bare, exposed to your loving gaze. You run your hands across his skin, feeling the warmth, the strength, the life that pulses beneath.

“You are beautiful, Charles, so incredibly beautiful.” you whispered.

He opens his eyes, his gaze filled with love and gratitude. “And so are you, amore mio. So are you.” his voice soft, filled with emotion. (my love)

You reach down and unbuckle his belt, then slowly lower the zipper of his trousers. He sucks in a breath, his body tense with anticipation. You slide his trousers down his legs, revealing his boxer briefs, you pause, looking up at him, seeking his permission and he nodded, his eyes filled with desire.

You lower his boxer briefs, revealing his arousal. He is magnificent, powerful, and utterly vulnerable.

You reach out, gently cupping him in your hand. He groans, his body arching towards you.

His voice hoarse. “Oh, holy… fuck...”

You begin to caress him, your touch both gentle and firm, exploring every curve, every contour. He closes his eyes, surrendering to the pleasure, his body trembling with need.

After a few moments, you stop, looking up at him, your eyes filled with a challenge.

“What now, amore?” you asked him in a whisper.

He opens his eyes, his gaze burning with desire. “Now… you ride me.” his voice barely audible.

The moonlight catches the planes of his face, highlighting the desire that burns in his eyes. He's surrendered control, placing his pleasure, his trust, completely in your hands.

You straddle him fully, your thighs pressing against his, igniting a firestorm of sensations. The leather of the seat is cool against your skin, a stark contrast to the heat radiating from Charles' body. You lean down, your breasts brushing against his chest, and whisper in his ear.

Your voice husky, filled with a newfound confidence. “Are you ready, baby?”

He groans softly, his hands gripping your waist. “More than ready.”

You lean back slightly, giving yourself a moment to take him in. His eyes are closed, his face contorted in a mixture of anticipation and vulnerability. You run your hands down his chest, feeling the hard muscles, the rapid pulse of his heart.

“Open your eyes, Charles. I want you to see me.” you whispered.

He obeys, his eyes meeting yours. They're dark, dilated with desire.

You begin to move, slowly at first, rocking your hips back and forth. The sensation is electrifying, the friction igniting a firestorm within you.

His voice strained. “Oh god… fuck...”

You increase the pace, your movements becoming more rhythmic, more demanding. You can feel him straining beneath you, his muscles tense, his breath coming in ragged gasps.

“Does that feel good, babe?” you whispered exhilarated.

He nods, unable to speak, his body arching towards you.

You continue to ride him, your movements becoming more frantic, more desperate.. You can feel yourself spiraling out of control, your body consumed by a tidal wave of pleasure.

“Oh, Charles…” you moaned.

He reaches up, his hands gripping your hips, guiding your movements, intensifying the pleasure. “Faster, amore. Faster…” his voice's ragged with pleasure.

You obey, your body moving in perfect sync with his. You can feel the pressure building, the tension coiling tighter and tighter within you.

“I’m close, Charlie… so close…” you gasped.

He pulls you closer, his mouth finding yours in a desperate and heated kiss. His tongue plunges into your mouth, mirroring the rhythm of your bodies, intensifying the sensation.

And then, it hits you; a wave of pure, unadulterated pleasure washes over you, your body convulsing in a series of intense, shuddering orgasms. You cry out his name, your body trembling, your mind blank.

He groans, his body arching beneath you, his muscles tense and rigid. He reaches the same peak, his orgasm erupting within you, sending shockwaves of pleasure through his body.

You both collapse against each other, breathless and exhausted, your bodies slick with sweat. The small confines of the car feel suddenly too small to contain the intensity of your shared experience.

You lie there for a long moment, catching your breath, listening to the sound of your own racing heart. The silence is broken only by the soft moans and groans of satisfaction.

Finally, you pull back slightly, looking down at Charles. His eyes are closed, his face relaxed, a small smile playing on his plumped lips.

“Are you alright?” you whispered softly.

He opens his eyes, his gaze filled with love and admiration. “More than alright, chérie. More than alright.” his voice soft, filled with emotion. He reaches up, gently stroking your hair. “Thank you… for that.” he whispered. (honey)

You smile, your heart swelling with joy. “You liked it?” you asked teasingly.

He laughs softly.

“I loved it baby, you were… incredible.” his voice serious. Then he pulled you closer, wrapping his arms around you. “You know, I never thought I would enjoy being on the receiving end of that so much.” he whispered.

You laugh, pushing him playfully.

“Oh, really?” you say teasing.

His voice earnest. “Really, it was… liberating. To let go of control, to surrender to you.” he pulled you closer, holding you tight. “You have a power over me, amore. A power that I’ve never felt before.” he whispered.

You snuggle into his embrace, feeling safe and loved.

“And you have a power over me, Charles. A power that makes me want to be… daring, to be brave and get out of my comfort zone from time to time.” you whispered softly.

Suddenly you pause, considering your next words carefully.

“So... What now?” you whispered.

He smiles, his eyes sparkling with mischief.

“Now… we clean up. And then… we find somewhere a little more comfortable.” he whispered. “Perhaps, our bed, huh?” he says and you giggled.

“Now you speak my language!” you smiled and smuggled closer to him.

He made a heart on the fogged up car window and you just smiled at the sight, a late night escape route ended up being something completely different and all thanks to your restlessness and need to be more daring in the intimacy and, of course, thanks to him who gives you that impulse to do it.

[queermasculine]

you don't have to answer this but are you still on t? I know you've talked about thinking you were into guys before figuring out u were into butches and I wonder if that realization changed how you saw your body?

I ask bc I'm in a spot where I can't fully tell if I need to go on t to look the way I'd feel right or if I can get to enough of a butch level with exercise and clothing and being around better people than currently. My gender wouldn't change either way, I'm still not a woman, but .. yeah.

realizing i was into other butches did change how i saw my body absolutely, like completely changed it, i don't think i had anything positive to say about my body pre-butch4butch at all tbh. looking at myself and realizing my masculine dream partner would actually have most of the features i was most dysphoric about was a total shift in perspective for me

whether that type of mental shift can lessen your dysphoria to a point where you'll never need T as a dysphoric butch, i'm still kinda figuring that out myself. i was in that "i've done my research and i've seen friends go through the process but i'm being a pussy" stage when i had my b4b epiphany and that brought my dysphoria down to manageable levels (this was years ago now) so i never went on T, but i still think T might be in my future – even if i've cut down my dysphoria by like 70% that remaining 30% can really chafe sometimes depending on the day

but if the question is "is it possible to get to a good place just by focusing on all the other, non-medical aspects of transition" yeah absolutely. like you really can change your appearance completely it's kinda crazy. many ppl don't realize just how much of the average cis guy's masculinity – which can seem so inherent – is actually just clothes and hair. even just getting your hair cut by someone who will give you an actual men's cut instead of the girl version of that style can totally change how you look because it just frames your face and neck so differently (speaking from experience)

that being said i don't think you should ever withhold HRT from yourself if you have access to it and think it might help you. just that it's possible to have a good life even if that's not an option for you, at least in my case it has very much been possible

edit: love all the ppl chiming in with their positive experiences being on T, however i was kind of trying to make this a positivity post for the transmascs out there who are not on hormones rn (like me) so if we could refrain from using wording that paints that life as being incomplete or lesser-than somehow that'd be great, thanks everybody🤘

[bladespark]

I feel like I have to push back on some of the above a little bit. Not that any of it's wrong, exactly, but it's just half the story. Let me share the other half with you.

There's an inevitable nostalgia for "simpler times," but although I ABSOLUTELY know what the above people are saying, and I'm VERY glad I got to, say, go to school without fearing school shootings, as a queer trans man, I want to point out that my "innocent nostalgic" youth was when the generation of queer elders that should be maturing into their leadership lives right now, retired and with time to campaign for politicians, attend school board meetings, speak up for LGBT+ issues at town halls etc., well... My "simpler youth" was the time when all those folks were dying of AIDS.

Things get worse, sometimes. They're pretty bad right now. Things also get better. Trans youth now are facing federal restrictions on their ability to get gender affirming care, but when I was a "youth" trans youth had almost no options at all. We had no education resources, no community unless you were REALLY LUCKY and also lived somewhere urban, No ANYTHING. I'm not saying this to shit on how hard it is right now. I'm struggling as I've never struggled in my life right now! But in the "better" 80s when I was a kid, in a small town, before the internet, with parents who wouldn't even say the word "gay" just vaguely mention "perversions" sometimes, back then I was a "tomboy" and a "horsegirl" and I had no ability to even contemplate that any option other than "Girl, just...different somehow?" existed. My parents grew up in a time when separate drinking fountains and back seats on busses and all that shit was totally normal and just how life was for POC, too. "We've never been so divided" I hear people say. Like shit we haven't. The civil war? Literal race-based chattel slavery? "No Irish need apply"? That's also in the past, even if the ghosts of it still haunt us.

Things sometimes get worse. I won't lie about that.

Things also get better. Don't let anybody lie to you about that either.

I don’t know how to explain this well…but I’m 30 years old and I feel like I’ve had to ‘sacrifice’ my entire adult life to unprecedented times, the pandemic and daily anxiety over hateful politicians and whatever rights they want to take away on any given day and I’m just so fucking tired

[alsofoundinpeas]

Dinner for Two(ish)

Summary: Since the beginning of your relationship, you and Spencer have made it a tradition to share a candlelit dinner at home every Valentine's Day. But this year, the evening has a surprise guest—one who’s about to change everything.

CONTENT WARNINGS: (While this fic itself isn't explicit content, my blog is 18+ so please keep this in mind!!) Mentions of past infertility issues. Pregnancy announcement. Both reader and Spencer cry but it's happy tears!! Established relationship. Fluff <3 (I think that's all but feel free to let me know if there are any I should add!)

Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!reader/afab!reader

A/N: Happy Valentine's Day my angels!! <3 This is way different than my usual fics so I hope you guys like it :') I figured something short and sweet (not a Sabrina reference but still giggling) would be best for today. I did try a different writing style instead of using Y/N so any feedback would be greatly appreciated! I also have a requested fic coming out Sunday that I'm excited for you guys to read <3 As always, please tell me what you think! If you enjoy it, please like, reblog, and share it with your friends :) Thank you and I love you all!!

Nerves wrack your body as you pace the kitchen, your heart pounding so hard you swore it was bound to leap right out of your ribcage if you were to stop moving.

Spencer called a few minutes ago to let you know he was on his way home, leaving you with almost an hour to set everything up for his surprise. You’d kept the call brief and kept your voice even so he wouldn’t suspect anything—a surprising feat, considering your body was (and still is) trembling like a leaf caught in a windstorm. In a way, you were thankful he’d had back-to-back cases recently.

Despite missing him so much it ached and worrying about him every second you were awake (and even in your subconscious as you slept), Spencer being away so often made keeping your secret much easier.

The wedding ring on your finger spun endlessly as you continued to fidget with it—a nervous habit that you’d picked up the second Spencer slid it on. A glance at the clock on the stove told you he’d be home in roughly five minutes. A shaky sigh filled the air as you attempted to swallow your nerves, lighting the candles you’d set up on the dining table and fixing your plates with the food you spent over an hour preparing because everything had to be perfect for tonight.

The familiar sound of keys jingling and the lock turning sent your blood rushing through your veins, humming beneath your skin in an excited current as you wait for your husband to open the door.

Spencer stepped inside, wearing an exhausted smile and holding a bouquet of the most beautiful flowers he could find last minute before the florist down the street closed their shop. His face lit up at the sight of the candlelit dinner, the crinkles around his eyes making your nerves settle just a little. It reminded you that the man in front of you was the love of your life, and that, despite how scary it felt, everything would be just fine.

“Happy Valentine’s Day, sweetheart,” he murmured as he made his way over to you, pulling you into a tight but mindful hug so that he didn’t crush your flowers. "Dinner smells amazing. You spoil me."

A soft laugh escaped your lips as you waved a hand dismissively, pressing a tender kiss to his before taking the flowers to put them in a vase. "You don’t need to butter me up, Spence. I’m already your wife," you teased, though your cheeks flushed at the compliment.

"Something I’m grateful for every day," Spencer said with sincerity, moving behind you to wrap his arms around you and place a soft kiss on the top of your head.

After arranging the flowers in the vase and setting them on the table, the two of you sat down to eat. As you picked at your food, Spencer noticed you nervously fidgeting with your ring. His brow furrowed in concern as he wondered what could possibly be making you so anxious. Finally, he set his fork down, unable to stay quiet any longer.

"Honey, what's wrong? What's got you so worked up?"

His voice caught your attention, causing you to glance up from where you were gathering another bite onto your fork. Your teeth dug into your lower lip as you averted your gaze, contemplating waiting until the both of you were done eating or just telling him right now so you could get it out of the way. With a deep breath, you decided on the latter, letting your fork hit the plate with a soft clink as you cleared your throat.

"I...um. I actually have a present for you this year. Stay right here," you whispered as you got up, ignoring his protests as you hurried into your shared bedroom to grab the small box you'd put together for him. The box couldn't have been more than half a pound at most, but its contents had you feeling like you were carrying the weight of the world in your hands—and technically, you were.

Spencer eyed you skeptically as you returned, his gaze immediately dropping to the box as you placed it in front of him. "Sweetheart, I've told you that the dinner is more than enough for me—"

"Just open it," you urged, gesturing for him to go ahead with a quick, impatient motion from where you stood beside him.

A surprised chuckle escaped him as he raised his hands in mock surrender. "Okay, okay! Sorry." His fingers fumbled with the red ribbon, unwinding it carefully as he slowly lifted the lid. You kept your eyes fixed on his face, anxiously watching for his reaction as he peered inside.

Inside was a tiny onesie with Baby Reid printed in delicate cursive, accompanied by an ultrasound photo and the three positive tests you’d taken (because you hadn’t quite believed the first one).

Spencer stared down at the items in complete shock, his mouth opening and closing for a moment before he glanced up at you. "W-we're having a baby?" His voice trembled, his eyes welling with tears at the realization.

For more than a year, you and Spencer had been trying to conceive, with him meticulously tracking your cycle and researching every possible method to increase your chances. But each time, you were met with heartache and disappointment, tossing negative test after negative test into the trash. Eventually, you both resigned yourselves to the reality that, as much as you longed for a baby of your own, it might not be in the cards.

You’d never been happier to be wrong in your life.

Nodding your head, tears began to well in your own eyes as you flashed him a watery smile. "We're having a baby, Spence."

Before you could even process what was happening, he was up and kneeling in front of you, his hands gently cradling your stomach as tears began to fall. A choked laugh escaped him as he looked up at you, eyes wide with awe. "We're having a baby," he whispered again, pressing a tender kiss to your stomach despite the barely-there bump—just over eight weeks along.

The sight made your heart swell, one hand instinctively wiping away his tears, even as your own continued to fall. The other hand rested gently beside his on your stomach. And as you watched your husband speak softly to your unborn baby, you couldn’t help but feel that everything you’d ever wanted was finally right there, just beneath your fingertips.

Continued A/N's: AHHH this got posted a little later than intended because I kept coming back to edit HAHA but I truly hope you guys enjoyed this as much as I did. I truly believe that man deserved a happy ending with baby geniuses of his own and this is my way of coping :') BUTTTT thank you so much for reading and Happy Valentine's Day again <3

REMINDER: I do NOT give permission for my work to be re-uploaded to any other platforms (c.ai, TikTok, ao3, etc.) under any circumstances. If you'd like to translate my work, then please ask me before doing so. I know it sounds whiny, but I (as well as many other fanfic writers) spend so much time on these and it's genuinely not okay to take credit for work that isn't yours. It's insulting and completely unnecessary. If I do see my work uploaded anywhere without explicit permission, I WILL say something.

[kiame-sama]

HAE Valentines Special~

Valentines really isn't a thing in the HAE AU, given the have mostly different holidays, but i figured y'all could have a little confession/love thing. I was going to write NSFW for the Dorm Leaders for Valentines day, but time got away from me. instead, here is a little something different.

Warnings: Still yandere, HAE TWST AU, monster AU, Human/Reader is (They/them) to be inclusive, suggestive themes, ficlets, kissing, confessions, suggested cannibalism (Azul path), Unicorn, Nemean Lion, Caecilia, Genie, Harpy, Shinigami, Dragon

Riddle Rosehearts:

"Everything needs to be perfect!"

The Unicorn huffed as he looked over the preparations for the day's Unbirthday party. This would officially be the fifth time he has rechecked the preparations and Trey couldn't help but feel amused at how stressed his friend was.

Though Unbirthdays were common when it came to their dorm, this was supposed to be a special one for several reasons. The beloved Human of Night Raven College was going to be attending this one and Riddle was planning to confess his feelings for them. It was no secret the Unicorn had feelings for the Human, though the Human seemed to be unaware of how the Unicorn actually felt for them.

Still, that didn't mean Trey couldn't have a bit of fun with his close friend.

"I don't know, Riddle, do you think the roses should be painted a different color?"

"What do you mean?"

"Well, painting the white roses red is traditional for an Unbirthday party, but this isn't just an Unbrithday party anymore. Why not paint them something that goes with (Y/n)? Like their favorite color?"

"That's-! Actually... that isn't a bad idea."

The Unicorn turned back to look at the roses but another voice cut in before he could decide what to do. That voice belonged to the Human that everyone seemed to adore as they walked over with a warm smile on their face. If anything, it was more surprising that the Human came to the Unbirthday party at all given how Riddle reacted during the first Unbirthday party they attended.

He was determined to not make the same mistake.

"(Y/n), you're early!"

"Well, I thought I could show up and lend a hand! I am enjoying the party too, I shouldn't just get to sit on the sidelines and not help out. What do you need me to do?"

Riddle was thrown off by the sudden offer to assist him and he could feel his chest tightening as his face warmed with a flaming blush. He wanted to wait to confess his feelings for them at the height of the party, perhaps even during croquet. Still, something about the affectionate and kind Human made Riddle absolutely melt and all of that careful planning fell to the wayside.

"(Y/n)," He started, picking up their hands in his own and kissing the back of one affectionately, "the only thing I need from you is for you to listen."

"Okay?"

Riddle swallowed hard, suddenly feeling his mouth go dry as he tried to cobble together what he wanted to say. Nights spent practicing and rehearsing for this moment all suddenly seemed so distant and far out of his reach as he struggled to find the words he was looking for. Luckily for him, dear (Y/n) was as patient as ever to let the Unicorn gather up his thoughts.

"I have spent my life trying to be the best I can, from classes, to being a son, and yet it always felt so hollow and empty. Despite everything I could want being available to me, there was nothing I actually needed. Not until... until I met you. I know I have no right to ask this of you, and I understand if you turn me down but I... I..."

He struggled to force the words out of his mouth as he found himself choking at the last minute. The idea that this amazing person could turn him down poisoned his thoughts and made tears fill in his eyes, especially because he knew he wouldn't be able to handle being rejected. He needed the Human to accept his love completely and wholly or he would lose his mind in grief.

"I love you too, Riddle."

Those words made his mind come to a screeching halt as his breath caught in his throat. He was quick to glance up from their hands to their gently smiling expression as his heart leaped into his throat.

"Y-you do?"

"Of course I do. How could I not?"

"Because I'm such a mess! I attacked you when I Overblotted and-"

He cut off sharply as their hand rest against his cheek, gently pulling him down to lock their lips with his. The Unicorn couldn't help but let out a soft little squealing neigh at the feel of his lips pressed against their own and he hungrily melted into the gentle affection. Their warm body against his own had his face blushing bright red. Riddle found himself panting and longing for more when they broke the sweet kiss, pulling back to look at him adoringly.

"I love you, Riddle Rosehearts."

"And I love you (Y/N). I always will."

~~~~~~~~

Leona Kingscholar:

"Oi, Leona, get up and help!"

Ruggie grumbled his complaints to the dorm leader, who was lounging on some sun warmed rocks as he spent the day dreaming and thinking about what could be, if he only tried. The dorm had been cleaning and tidying up after a rather eventful evening in anticipation of that blessed Human stopping by. Naturally, the lazy Lion wasn't too interested in helping out his Pride even though he was the primary reason the dorm was so messy.

Wrestling and playful fights were common in Savanaclaw and Leona had been the undefeated champion of his Pride for a while now. The night prior has gone about the same and made it clear to all the newcomers that Leona was the leader of his Pride for a reason.

"Nah."

"The hell you mean, nah? (Y/n) is gonna be here any minute-!"

"That's why you're here, Ruggie. It's your job to clean, not mine."

"You-!"

The Gnoll seemed more than a little annoyed with Leona and was about to voice that frustration when another voice was carried over on the wind. (Y/n) had said they would come over for a visit and maybe even make some lunch for the dorm, so they were an expected presence. Still, it made Leona's heart leap up into his throat when he heard them.

The Lion was quick to rise to his paws when he heard the shouted greeting and seemed to have a kind of energy now that he knew his favorite squeaky toy was present. He couldn't resist the lazy smile pulling at his face as he saw that soft Human making their way over to him with a happy smile. What he wouldn't give to have that smile for himself, to keep and to be the only one that got to see such an affectionate expression.

"Mousey, took you long enough."

"Oh, hush. You know it takes a lot for me to be able to slip away from the others to even come here."

"I know. Did that Lizard throw a fit over it?"

"Of course he did, you know how Malleus is, Leona."

He did know.

Leona knew that the Dragon was far too interested in (Y/n) and it made hate burn in the pit of his stomach to think about that overgrown Lizard getting his hands on that soft Human. The idea that he could be relegated to second place yet again only made the anger burn brighter. Years of being second place to everyone else left a chip on the Lion's shoulder regarding the way others perceived him and how he always seemed to be the secondary choice.

He wasn't going to let himself stay second place anymore.

"So what did you want to do-"

The Human's questioning tone cut off as the Lion pulled them to his chest, locking his lips almost immediately with the surprised Human. They hesitated for just a moment before reciprocating the kiss, much to the Lion's enjoyment and vague astonishment. He figured they were fond of him to some extent, but it felt so nice to be able to have that affection returned in full.

As he broke the kiss, he almost chuckled when he saw the slightly dazed expression of that soft Human staring up at him. If they kept looking at him like that, he wouldn't be able to stop himself from taking more than just a little kiss from them.

"You're mine, you got that, Mousey? All mine. That damned Lizard doesn't get to have you anymore. I am your number one."

This made a small smile pull at their lips as they leaned into the hold of the Lion. It was almost laughable to Leona now to think that he ever believed they could possibly like that Lizard more than they loved him. He was dangerous and came from a long line of Human eaters, but they were never bothered by what his ancestors had done in the past.

"All yours."

~~~~~~~~

Azul Ashengrotto:

Azul nervously sat glancing at the phone in front of him as he awaited the arrival of his date for the evening. He had gone though countless plans and countless ideas before he settled on the current one, and now he had to wait while the time ticked away.

It was a relatively cool evening in the Mostro Lounge and Azul had ensured to reserve the entire VIP section just for this occasion. If anything he was nervous and vaguely worried that his invited date wasn't going to show up despite the fact that they had agreed and it was still early to the time he requested they arrive. Still, he found himself constantly looking back to check the time only to see seconds had passed despite the fact that it had felt like hours to him.

The VIP section was lit with small candles and had been cleared out of everything excepting one round table that had two chairs on either side of it. The view of the large external aquarium was quite lovely from where the table was placed as a pair of whale-sharks slowly swam by, circling and dancing together in playful affection. Even the silk table cloth he had placed over the table seemed to have the gentle reflections of light through the water shining onto it, making it look just as fluid.

"Oya, Azul, you seem so pent up and stressed. Could it be you are worried about being rejected?"

The gentle teasing of his second in command and childhood friend, Jade, chimed out and Azul couldn't stop the way he glared over at the smiling Eel. Of course he was nervous and terrified. He didn't know what he would do if he was rejected after going through all of this effort to put together a nice dinner for himself and the soft Human he adored.

There was a part of him- the part he kept mostly hidden- that insisted there was no way the Human could ever love a crybaby like him. Why would they go for someone like him when they could have their pick of anyone in the world? Princes, wealthy tycoons, Kings, anyone they wanted would happily accept their affections, so why would they settle for someone like him?

Jade was well aware of Azul's stress, as the Octopus couldn't even snap back in reply to the light teasing. It was clear to anyone that knew Azul that he was nervous and could hardly sit still in his own seat. His eyes glanced back to the time and he felt his three hearts pound heavily in his chest.

It was time.

"Hey, Azul! Hope I'm not late."

The kind voice of the Human he adored filled his head and only made his hearts hammer even faster as he stood to greet them. They were breath-taking, dressed in the fine clothing he had sent along with the invitation to this candlelit dinner and he almost swooned when he saw them. They looked absolutely enchanting beneath the shining light from the aquarium and he couldn't help but blush bright blue.

"Goodness, this place is beautiful! I don't think I've ever been in the VIP section before. Did you do all of this for me?"

He did. Azul had even gone as far as to sever one of his own tentacles- it would grow back- so he could have a unique dish to serve them just for the occasion. It was typical of male Caecilia to offer their own tentacles as a meal to their mates, he just hoped the Human would accept him as their mate.

"It isn't much," he stated, gently leading the Human to the waiting table, "but I do hope you like it."

"Of course I do. But, this doesn't seem like a friendly little dining experience, is it? This seems more like a date to me."

"W-what? I- Well this isn't- I mean, it could be if you wanted? If you don't want it to be-"

Azul stumbled over his words, feeling his entire face flush a deep cerulean as he tried to save face. Those thoughts and ramblings all came to a screeching halt as the Human gently rest their hand against his cheek, pulling him into a light kiss that left him breathless.

"I would love for this to be our first official date."

"I love you, (Y/n)!"

"And I love you too, my sweet octopus."

~~~~~~~~

Kalim Al-Asim:

Food of varying spices and make were lain out among the various seating areas of the Scarabia dorm, while the dorm members happily sat and talked to one another in excitement. It was normal for the dorm to be having a little celebration amongst themselves, but there was to be a unique guest of honor arriving soon and it had them all buzzing in excitement. Almost everyone in the dorm adored their dorm leader and they were all hoping that the party would go in his favor.

Unlike most in Night Raven College, Kalim Al-Asim was a kind soul who tried to help others despite his own failing in magic. Those who were in the Scarabia dorm had long come to appreciate the Genie that greeted them with warm smiles and affectionate behavior. They were also all in on the plan to get Kalim and the Human he so clearly adored together in a relationship.

Jamil- Kalim's right hand and Vice-Housewarden- was not of the same enthusiasm as the others, but he was still willing to lend his help to the Genie he had spent his life serving. He had been the one to craft all of this fine food, after all, and he was willing to do what it took to keep the Human close, even if meant he had to share with the air-headed Genie. Now, all that was needed was the Human themselves and then the party could really get into full swing.

"Kalim!"

A familiar voice called out and the Genie was quick to rush over to them, almost tackling the Human in an excited hug as he nuzzled against their neck. They chuckled and returned the affectionate hug with their own as they allowed the Genie to pull them to where he had been resting as the head of the group. A kind of hush fell over the gathered students who were all excited to see their beloved Housewarden with the Human he clearly adored.

"(Y/n), before we get the party started, I have something to tell you!"

"Oh? And what would that be?"

Kalim found himself somewhat nervous, but his face didn't show it as he smiled at them, trying to get his ever bouncing mind to calm down just enough to speak his peace. He really hoped that (Y/n) would return his affections at best, or at worse still want to be friends with him after he confessed his feelings for them. The only thing he had to do was actually confess to them the way he had planned.

He seemed to remember the speech he and Jamil had written out has he quickly grabbed the paper from his pocket, looking over it quickly to try and find exactly what he was looking for. He frowned at the paper- as well written as it was- and decided that he no longer needed it. If he was going to pour out his heart, he couldn't let some silly paper get in the way of it.

"(Y/n), I know I'm not the best at magic, and I know my wishes are dangerous, but even with all of that, you're always so nice to me. You don't get mad when I forget things. You don't yell at me when I get a little loud. You're always there when I need you to be and you don't ask me for things in return for you kindness. I feel like I can't think most days, but suddenly I can think like a genius whenever you are close to me. (Y/n), I like you. I really like you. No, I love you, and I was just wondering if there was a way you could possibly love me too?"

There was a moment of silence as the surprised Human stared at him and he felt his heart racing in his chest. Only in that quiet did he possibly think that maybe the Human didn't feel the same way for him as he felt for them and that idea made his heart constrict. He was almost ready to nervously shout that it was all some joke before they smiled at him, pulling him close to press their lips against his.

The moment their lips touched, the other students in the dorm began to cheer, but it all fell on deaf ears. Kalim couldn't believe it. He was actually kissing them! They were so soft and gentle against his lips, he couldn't help but excitedly pull them closer as his Genie tail wound around them to hold them against his chest.

"Of course I love you, Kalim. How could I not?"

The Genie let out a loud cheering whoop which was echoed in kind by the others around him as the Party began in earnest, the Genie never leaving the side of the Human he adored. Even as the Naga glared from the sidelines, feeling maligned and ignored in the height of it all, it did mean that the Human would stay close, and perhaps he could worm his way into their heart the same way Kalim had.

He just needed to bide his time and let the chips fall where they may before he made his move.

~~~~~~~~

Vil Schoenheit:

Another day done, another meaningless photo shoot. As per usual, the great Vil Schoenheit looked amazing on the cameras and off of them, yet he found himself missing a key piece to his the event. No matter how many photos he took or how he posed, he never seemed to have that same spark as he did when his beloved (Y/n) was taking photos with him.

Something about the way they fit in his arms and melted into his hold had the Harpy yearning for their touch and their ever affectionate smile they gifted him that always seemed to be able to make him breathless. He could feel the way his tail ruffled and moved when he thought of them, just wanting to display and dance for the Human that he wholeheartedly adored. What he wouldn't give to have them by his side and hold onto him the way he longed to hold onto them.

Even as his manager spoke with the photographers and parsed out more deals and photoshoots to be had, he found himself not interested in the simplicity of their conversations. Not even the modeling contracts he had held the same interest they once did before he met the Human he had fallen so hard for. Countless others swooned and praised his name, longing for just a moment of his time or attention, yet his heart was set on the one who never seemed to seek him out.

"Roi du Poison!"

The familiar name his boon companion used for him drew the contemplative Harpy out of his thoughts, his purple eyes flicking over to see what it was the eccentric Drider needed from him. The moment he saw the Drider everything else seemed to fall away, as that soft and lovely Human was approaching with him. Naturally, the photographers seemed to notice the profound change in the typically icy model as he warmed and a smile took over his smooth expression.

This was no demure smile, mind you. The smile that pulled at Vil's lips was one of genuine affection and joy as he turned to fully face his two favorite companions. Several photographers paused their disassembly, even choosing to put the cameras back in place just in the rare case that they were going to see something amazing take place.

The Human paid no mind to the cameras or to those who were watching curiously and instead chose to approach the smiling Harpy with and equally excited smile.

"(Y/n), to what do I owe the pleasure of your visit?"

"Just wanted to stop by and see you! Rook said you would have a moment after you photoshoot and I wanted to know if you wanted to come over to Ramshackle for a quick bite to eat before your next activity?"

"I would love to."

"Really?"

"Of course. Why would I refuse such an invitation?"

"Well, I was just worried you might be too busy since you always seem to have so much to do..."

The almost shy behavior of the Human warmed Vil's chest as he felt his tail once again stirring to display itself for the sweet Human he adored. Perhaps, with the better lighting and the relaxed atmosphere, his tail would have a greater impact on them than it had in the past when he fist chose to display for them. As they rambled off about how busy Vil always seemed to be, he caught their hand, quieting them quickly.

"(Y/n), do you know what it means when a Peacock Harpy displays their tail for someone?"

"Rook said it means that the Harpy is interested that person and wants to be their mate."

Vil smiled at this, his tail and crest feathers rising up to a full display, the light catching the many colors as his wings extended out to either side of his body. Each feather moved and seemed to create the illusion of dancing as the Harpy circled the Human, parading his feathers for them to behold in his own dazzling display of affection. The Human seemed surprised by this sudden show of affection, but they also seemed to take it in stride as they caught the dancing Harpy in a tight hold, surprising him slightly.

"So, does this mean what I think it means?"

"What do you think it means?"

Instead of answering the Harpy's question, the Human pulled him into a quick kiss, locking their lips with his own. He almost broke the kiss to yell at the nosy photographers as he heard the many sounds of cameras clicking, capturing the moment on film. Rook was actually the one to begin admonishing the photographers for Vil as the Harpy broke the kiss, resting his forehead against that of the sweet Human he adored.

"It means I love you, (Y/n). Judging from your response, you love me too."

"How could I not? You're amazing and absolutely beautiful, Vil."

~~~~~~~~

Idia Shroud:

"Idi-nii."

Another win down, another win to go. Idia was on a hot streak and there was no way he was going to slow down for anyone. If he kept this up, he would be able to get drops for all the gear he needed to complete his set. He might even be able to get gear for his secondary character that ran DPS.

"Idi-nii!"

"What?"

The insistent voice of his little sibling drew the Shinigami out of his trance, moving one headphone off of his ear so he could turn to look at his exasperated little brother. He was about to complain at Ortho that he was busy and interrupting his streak would throw off his game when he noticed the littler Shinigami was not alone. Standing next to the technomantic Shinigami was a familiar Human that made Idia's heart skip a beat and made him turn away from the game, his streak quickly forgotten.

"Did you forget (Y/n) was coming over to play games with us?"

"... Maybe?"

"Idi-nii..."

Otho was clearly frustrated with the behavior of his older brother, but the Human was not put off by the forgetful behavior of the older Shinigami. Instead, they chuckled softly in response to his nervous statement and it made him smile. Usually he thought others were laughing at him whenever someone chuckled around him, but he couldn't help feeling that the Human was actually fond of him.

Most avoided the awkward older Shinigami who kept to himself, but the Human had made it their mission to actually befriend him however possible. Even as he smiled back at them, he could feel the way his hair changed from the consistent blue to a gentle magenta. Unfortunately, the Human seemed to notice this as well.

"Hey, Hellkitty."

"Hello to you too, Gloomurai. You ready to play some games with me and Ortho?"

"Yeah, just let me log off of this and I can get a game started up for us."

"Okay. Quick question, though."

"What's up?"

"Why does your hair change color whenever you see me?"

This actually threw Idia off as he began to stutter, stumbling over his words to try and come up with a reasonable lie to throw off his true feelings for the Human. He didn't think he was ready to confess that to them, or to anyone really, and he was worried that there was no way the Human would possibly love such a weirdo back. He had to think of something quickly.

"Well, you see- you see it means- I- I mean it- it is because-"

"It's because Idi-nii loves you, (Y/n)."

Idia could practically feel himself blue-screen as Ortho easily said the words he struggled to find and he felt the sting of betrayal deep in his chest. How could Ortho, his trusted brother, do this to him? To voice his feelings just like that for the Human to deny or even be repulsed by? He didn't know if he would be able to forgive-

"Oh, is that all? Well, good thing I love him too, or this would be really awkward."

"... Huh?"

"I said, 'good thing I love him too', you silly Shinigami."

"L-LOVE?? You love me?? Really? But why? I'm just a freak with flaming hair who-"

Idia was cut off mid rambling by the sudden feeling of lips against his own and his entire brain seemed to shut down completely. His hair burned a deep magenta as he rest his hands over their shoulders and pulled them deeper into his affection, his long limbs wrapping around them to hold them close. He could faintly register the bright glow of his hair as the magenta color reflected off of their skin, giving them that same bright glow.

"I love you, Gloomurai. I don't care if you think you are weird, I adore you in all of you awkward glory."

"W-Weeheehehe~!"

~~~~~~~~

Malleus Draconia:

The evening was a lovely one, not too cold and not too balmy either. Somewhere in between with a warm breeze that seemed to soothe the turbulent soul and a soft caress of an affectionate lover. It was the prefect kind of evening to allow the pair to walk mostly undisturbed across the campus.

As a Nocturnal Dragon Fae, Malleus was more at peace in the evening than he was during the daytime, allowing him to let down in guard under the cover of night. Even as the Human walked by his side, he knew they were happy and protected in the cover of darkness. All felt right with the world, so long as he had his Human by his side.

Overhead, the stars glimmered and shined like the very cosmos were rejoicing in the peaceful moment shared between two souls. It didn't matter how the shadows clawed for attention, not a moment would be spared spent focusing on anything other than the Human that held to Dragon's arm. He would ensure they were protected and nothing else truly seemed to matter to him as the two walked together.

The Dragon had a reason to spend this auspicious evening by the side of his Beloved and he was ready to lay his heart out for them, if only for a few more seconds of their treasured time. Of all the gifts that they had given him- from his quirky nickname to the simple moment spent enjoying one another's company- he had yet to give them something that could compare to the joy they had given him. He planned to correct that oversight with his own heart offered up to them to keep.

"It's a beautiful evening."

They commented off handedly, keeping their voice low to not disturb the peace that had settled over the usually lively campus they wandered. It was certainly lovely, but nowhere near as breathtaking as the Human he held in his embrace.

"Yes. Very lovely."

"Did you want to just have a nice walk, or was there something else that you wanted to talk about tonight? You even told Lilia he couldn't come, so I'm guessing you have something in mind?"

Ever the observant one, (Y/n) always seemed to know when there were thoughts plaguing the Dragon even before others did. It was that observative behavior and quick understanding of him that Malleus valued above all others. So few could read the Dragon half as well as his beloved Human could, and he knew he could never let the crown jewel of his Hoard escape his embrace.

He needed to let them know how he felt about them.

As he paused by their side, they were quick to turn their curious gaze to him, looking up with their head cocked to one side in an ever endearing way that made his heart swell in his chest. To think, the precious short lived creature had managed to entangle the heart of the lonesome Dragon with such adeptness he didn't even realize how hard he fell until his own emotions seemed to slap him across the face.

"(Y/n), I've been meaning to talk to you about something. Something that is very important to me."

"What is it, Tsuno?"

He paused and relished the feeling of his beloved so close to his chest and so warm against his own naturally cold body. They seemed to fit perfectly in his hold and he couldn't stop himself from pulling them closer, chuckling as they gasped ever so softly.

"I find myself thinking of you whenever we are apart. Longing to hold you, to taste your lips, to embrace your body and soul with my own. I have never felt such a rush from anyone other than you, and it kills me to think of anyone getting to hold you the way I long to."

"Malleus..."

"(Y/n), Dragons love deeply and fiercely. I don't want to consume you in the flames of my passion if that is not what you want of me. I love you (Y/n) (L/n). I would burn the world to ash if you only asked it of me and I would embrace you in the ruins of the burning land around us for the mere pittance of your smile. If you don't want this... if you don't want me-"

The Dragon was cut off as his head was pulled down into a passionate kiss, feeling his chest swell with adoration for the gentle and fragile soul he held in his arms. There as no more need for words to be said, the action speaking far louder than any sweet nothing that could be whispered into the night. Such adoration made his heart ache in affection as he embraced the love of his life, knowing they willingly embraced him in return.

He could live thousands of years with no one other than (Y/n) as his company, and they would be the happiest years of his life. All he needed was his love by his side and the gentle embrace of their affection to fill his heart.

He would never let them go.

[justleaveacommentfest]

Not an ask, but a story about leaving comments -- not long ago, I left a comment on a fic from almost 10 years ago where the author, in their end notes, discussed how proud they were to have finished this fic (it was an incredible fic that was over 100,000 words long because they're a god and I would also just be shaky in the knees if I accomplished something so long and profound); and they also talked in their author's note how strange it was to be the ages of 22-24 when they were writing this fic and how things weren't always easy, and that they hoped the future was bright for them.

I commented about my life, right now, how I came to find their fic a decade years later from when they finished (a little sheepishly, it feels weird to talk about yourself, but it felt important somehow) -- anyways, I also talked about how reading their author's note reminded me very much of how I felt right now, and how different the world is now from 2015, and how this fic made me feel all kinds of nostalgic and good and hopeful about growing older, and how my god they were this good at 22 and I hope they're still writing -- and even if not, I hope all these years later they really are in a better place.

They replied. They replied! I was so delighted! They are indeed in their thirties! and they are indeed still writing! Things haven't gone as expected, but they've got a healthier dose of perspective on life and how to cope with the hard times now. And it was just so heartwarming to hear and learn about them. And to know that they're still around!

Just seeing that, seeing these people who write about hard times nine years ago, and leaving a comment and getting a reply, it just brings so much hope. Because you never know! You never know if someone's still going to be here, and so when they are it's kind of a-- not a miracle, but it just feels like I'm suddenly so very aware of my existence in the world and theirs too and it just -- it MATTERS. And ao3 and fanfiction in general is so unique to most media where you stare at a television or read a book, you can engage with the creator of that thing you're reading RIGHT THEN AND THERE. And you may not get a reply, or you might get this touching response that lets you feel like you're less alone in the world. It's worth the chance, right? That's what building community and stuff is all about! You can make so many friends this way!

And even if they never reply, don't you want them to know how important their story was to you? And it doesn't matter if the story was finished a decade ago or just posted yesterday, there's still a person that's there that gets to see how their art made an impact on the world. I've made a couple of friends doing this -- and even if I'm not making a friend, I hope I make someone's day a little brighter. God knows I'm always delighted whenever someone comments on my fics.

I admit I'm not perfect -- I don't always comment on fics that I read. I'm trying to be better, I've got a list of fics that I definitely should have written a comment on that I've been going through and writing out how I feel about their writing because damn people are just so talented. This wasn't for just leave a comment fest, I admit, but I do love to see your blog and your drive because it is such an important thing for writers.

I didn't know you were doing a valentines day thing, but what a great idea! I wanted to share my experience, hopefully inspire some other people to go out and comment, and now I'm going to go check another fic off my list of ones that I'd like to comment on. Better late than never!

Have a great day! and Happy Valentine's Day Just Leave a Comment Mini Fest!

I AM HOOTING AND HOLLERING I AM PLAYING THE XYLOPHONE ON MY RIB CAGE WHAT A STORY!!!! WHAT A BEAUTIFUL CONNECTION TO HAVE MADE THROUGH COMMENTS!!! WHAT A WONDERFUL, BEAUTIFUL EXPERIENCE TO HAVE HAD!!

ANON THANK YOU FOR SHARING THIS HAS MADE THIS SKELETON'S DAY

[bokutoko]

2/14

character: atsumu miya (timeskip!atsumu)

wc: 1.4k

cw: valentine’s day (barf), alcohol, cussing, kinda sorta uni!au (uni!reader x msby!atsumu), slight feelings of inadequacy (reader), they kith💋, atsumu thinks the L-word

pt. 2(ish?) to 7/11

Valentine's Day... also known as your least favorite day of the year (besides your birthday, but that’s a whole different story). The holiday made popular by monetizing the idea of setting aside only one day out of the year to show how much you love your partner, with all the godforsaken life-sized teddy bears and dozens of balloons, and all the mediocre chocolate and overpriced flowers. A cock of shit was what it was—someone should not be loved just one day out of the year. 

Of course, its only significance to you was being a milestone to remind yourself how painfully single you were.

But you weren't bitter. Not at all. Not. One. Bit.

The kicker, though? It almost felt like you didn't even want anybody. The mere idea of dating someone—a person you probably didn’t even know at the time and probably (not so) secretly a piece of shit—made you so nauseous that swearing relationships off altogether seemed more tempting as the days passed...

But alas, the small, hopeless romantic peeking through the rose-tinted lenses of your heart unfortunately held out for something beautiful one day... Maybe not for a prince, but a knight in shining armor. Maybe not a man to sweep you off your feet, but instead one willing to help you pick up the pieces when it felt like everything was falling apart at your feet. 

"Maybe I'll just die an old spinster.”

"C'mon, it can't be that bad," Atsumu's Kansai dialect filtered through your headphones as you walked across campus to your morning class. He’d called, asking if you had any fun plans for the night, fully knowing you didn’t.

“There’s carnations and balloons all over campus. It looks like one of those my little ponies took a dump all over the place."

"But ‘m sure them carnations are pretty. Maybe you'll get one from a guy or somethin’."

"I think I'd rather die," you gagged.

A laugh filled your ears, and everything felt okay–what a nice sound to hear. But after feeling your heart do the thing, you quickly shook it off.

It was strange how for years now, it sometimes made you feel all weirdly warm and tingly when Atsumu laughed with you (even sometimes when he laughed at you).

It was best to not even entertain that notion.

"Well, gotta go, 'm at class," you sighed loudly for dramatic effect, "Maybe I'll go bitch to 'Samu later about my woes and personal vendettas. y’know, since you hate me."

Atsumu found himself smiling at your childish whining. "You mean ‘cause I'll be at practice?"

"Same thing."

“Fuck you too,” he grumbled with a scoff, not an ounce of actual annoyance in his voice, “Bye, nerd.”

A small smile made its way onto your face at his jabs. That was how it always was with Atsumu, ever since you two were in high school together. The both of you always shat on each other, knowing there was never any heat in your malicious words. It was nice, being able to feel safe with someone, to feel comfortable enough to be yourself and unapologetically bully your best friend.

As you prepped for lecture, your mind wandered, constantly circling back to your partner in crime. With every moment that passed, you quickly came to realize that Atsumu always only judged you a little bit with your (sometimes questionable) decisions, keeping it real with you while ultimately supporting you and being one of your biggest cheerleaders. Because all he wanted was to see you succeed. All he wanted was to see you happy.

You felt your face heat up just from thinking about him. 

For fuck’s sake—

While it was nice to attempt to delude yourself into thinking something could ever happen, you were easily able to convince yourself that this strange… crush was most likely unrequited.

This was Atsumu. Your Atsumu. He deserved the world.

And yet, you were just… you.

Time seemed to pass as slow as humanly possible: all your classes droning on, your exam sucking the life out of you, your professors assigning loads of busywork for the weekend ahead. The walk back to your cramped, overpriced shithole apartment was bustling with people: couples going on dinner dates, partners buying last minute gifts, and the occasional groups of galentines. Thankfully, your roommates all had plans with loved ones or already left for the weekend, so you had the entire place to yourself to sulk!

Turning the key and walking inside, you were slapped in the face with color. The common room area was decorated with a couple red heart balloons and… a pink “happy birthday” balloon floating around?

Your eyes honed in on Atsumu standing in the middle of the living room, holding another pink happy birthday balloon.

“Happy Valentine’s Day. Y’have no idea how hard it is to find last minute stuff,” Atsumu sighed with a sheepish grin, "and I know it ain’t your birthday, but it was pink—a-and the color kinda matches, so…”

‘What was he talking about?’ he thought to himself, ‘oh god, please shut up.’

And the epiphany came crashing down upon you that maybe you never actually hated Valentine’s Day, you just wanted someone to love you every day, not just for one day of the year. You looked over to the chocolates on the counter and the flowers perched in a vase next to them—it was your favorite everything. On display before you was your favorite dessert, your favorite flowers, your favorite person—

“‘Tsumu…” you struggled to find the right words, “What is all this?”

He just shrugged, hiding the flush to his cheeks by scratching the back of his neck. “Ya’ve been all down in the dumps that you’re single ‘n shit, so i got some chocolates, some box wine, and ‘Samu’s hulu logged in so we can rot on the couch and watch anything ya want tonight.” 

Atsumu watched you break out in the biggest smile, almost splitting your face in two, and god, he knew he loved you.

You swiped a box of chocolates off the counter. “You know me too well.”

He returned your smile with one of his own, so handsomely crooked. “I know.”

As the hours passed, empty boxes of chocolates were scattered on the table, along with half-drank glasses from a second round of wine. The two of you devolved into sharing a blanket that was definitely too small for the both of you, resulting in you two occasionally tugging on it and grumbling, “gimme.”

“Woulda thought you’d have plans tonight,” you commented as an ad played on the TV, your voice attempting to sound as casual as possible.

He hummed, feigning nonchalance as well. “I do. I’m here, ain’t I?”

You actively couldn’t stop the snort that escaped you. “Be serious, ‘Tsumu.”

“What, can I not make my own kind of plans?” he huffed in reply.

“I meant a date, ‘Tsumu. Y’know, with a girl ya like.”

He hesitated, feeling slightly deflated by her response. “Yeah…?” His voice was uncharacteristically… soft. It may had just been the alcohol talking, but Atsumu wondered if the taste of your lips, now stained a soft pink, was any better than the vino you two shared.

The air in the room suddenly felt way too warm, and you could feel your face flush as you just silently stared at him, like you were some brainless neanderthal. You swallowed, only just now realizing how close the two of you were—no longer tugging on the blanket but practically cuddling. You felt the warmth of his thigh against your own, and you swore you could die right there on the spot, melting right into a puddle of goo. 

Clearing your throat, you mumbled, “Yeah.”

His eyes lazily bounced back and forth between yours, searching for something, and he let out a sigh. “Yer the smartest person I’ve ever known, but God, you can be so damn stupid sometimes.”

Before you had the chance to fire an insult back, you felt a pair of lips on yours, the movements gentle yet nervous. It was instinctual, bordering embarrassing, how fast you melted into the kiss. His tongue tasted of white chocolate truffles and red wine, the heady mixture causing you to let out the softest sigh in his mouth. Atsumu's hands gently cupped your jaw, his thumbs gently running along your cheekbones until his brain finally caught up to his actions.

He pulled away and watched you almost chase his lips, your eyes still fluttering with your skin bathed in the soft lamplight of the room. He quietly whispered, “Sorry, I–”

“Don’t you dare apologize, you dumbass. Just kiss me again.”

And you didn’t have to tell him twice. 

a/n: happy valentine’s day to all the happy couples and all the single people out there—single or not, here’s some atsumu to feed the delulu <33

masterlist | navigation

please do not copy, alter, or repost my work. ©bokutoko 2025.

[overadores]

. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ .love, chae ✮ yoonchae jeung

Remember when you taught me fate

pairing.ᐟ yoonchae jeung x reader

about.ᐟ When Yoonchae and Y/N become pen pals for a school assignment, their letters start as casual exchanges but soon turn into something deeper. Over months of emails and handwritten notes, Y/N finds herself falling—unaware that the person capturing her heart is the same long-time crush she’s desperately tried to ignore. As Valentine’s Day approaches, the truth unravels when they finally meet at a school event, but with Y/N still closeted, fear and longing wage a silent battle. Will she risk everything for a love that’s been in front of her all along, or will she let hesitation turn their once-in-a-lifetime connection into just another missed chance?

genre.ᐟ fluff, highschool au

wc.ᐟ 1159 words

Said it'd all be worth the wait

You aren’t sure what you’re supposed to say to a stranger. You have plenty of friends, but the idea of writing to someone you barely know feels oddly personal—like cracking open a door and letting someone peek inside. Yet, here you are, sitting in class, staring at the blank page in front of you, your teacher’s instructions still echoing in your head.

Your pen pal’s name is simply signed as “Chae.” That’s all you know. No last name, no details, just a nickname that feels warm, soft—almost like a marshmallow, you decide. Something light and comforting. With that thought in mind, you begin to write, keeping your words simple, choosing topics that aren’t too personal, yet welcoming enough to make “Chae” feel at ease.

After sealing the envelope and handing it in, you step out of the classroom, stretching your arms as you walk down the hall. Your heart stutters in your chest when you spot Yoonchae near the lockers, your long-time crush standing effortlessly cool among her friends. For a brief second, your eyes meet. And, being you, you immediately look away, cheeks burning, and rush to your own group of friends, pretending the encounter hadn’t sent your pulse racing.

The letters continue over the following weeks. At first, they’re cautious exchanges—favorite subjects, hobbies, and small glimpses into your daily lives. But over time, you find yourself looking forward to them more than you expected. There’s something different about talking to someone who doesn’t know who you are. You can be honest, unfiltered in a way you never are in real life. And, oddly enough, you feel that “Chae” understands you.

As the months pass, your conversations grow deeper. You talk about your fears, your dreams, the expectations placed on you. And one day, you write something that has been sitting heavy on your chest for a while:

“I think I have feelings for someone I shouldn’t. At least, that’s what people say. I don’t know if it’s normal. I don’t even know if I should let myself feel this way.”

The next day, you receive a response. Your hands tremble as you open the letter, breath hitching at the words:

“It’s totally normal to like a girl. My parents always told me that love is love, no matter who it’s for. And, well… I think I like a girl too.”

The weight on your chest suddenly feels lighter. For the first time, you feel seen—truly seen. You clutch the letter in your hands, rereading those words over and over. This person, your “Chae,” understands. You’re not alone.

Then comes Valentine’s Day—the day of your final letter exchange. You’re not ready to say goodbye to this connection. You need to know who “Chae” really is. You both agree to meet at a specific spot in the school courtyard, just past the event stalls, under the old oak tree where the fairy lights from the Valentine’s decorations cast a warm red glow.

Nervous energy coils in your stomach as you rush to the spot, weaving through the crowd. And then—you freeze.

Standing there, bathed in the soft red light, is Yoonchae.

Your first instinct is to turn on your heel and leave. This has to be a mistake, right? But before you can take a step back, your friend—clearly done with your avoidance tendencies—gives you a not-so-gentle shove forward. You stumble, barely catching yourself before Yoonchae notices you.

“Oh,” she blinks, a faint flush rising to her cheeks. She hesitates for a second before offering a small smile. “Hey.”

You swallow hard. “H-Hi.”

For a moment, you just stand there, the air thick with anticipation. Then Yoonchae shifts on her feet, glancing around before speaking.

“Are you waiting for someone?” she asks, though there’s something in her tone—something careful, like she already knows the answer.

You nod, forcing yourself to stay rooted in place. “Yeah. My pen pal.”

A small laugh escapes Yoonchae, and you barely catch the way her fingers curl slightly at her sides, a nervous habit you hadn’t noticed before. “Same here.”

Your stomach twists. You force out a chuckle, though it sounds a little weak. “Lucky person, whoever it is.”

A pause. Then, slowly, Yoonchae asks, “Who’s your pen pal?”

You hesitate. Your heart is pounding so loudly you’re sure she can hear it. You take a shaky breath, trying to steady yourself before answering, “The name I got was… Chae.”

“Yeah. I don’t know who she is yet, though. But, uh... I think she really understands me.”

The moment the words leave your lips, you see it—the realization dawning in Yoonchae’s expression. The slight parting of her lips, the way her eyes widen before softening into something almost vulnerable.

And then, Yoonchae lets out a small breath of laughter, shaking her head in disbelief. “Wow. I can’t believe this.”

You swallow. “You’re… my Chae?”

Yoonchae grins, her cheeks tinged with a redness that isn’t just from the lights around you. “And you’re mine.”

Your breath hitches. “I can’t believe this,” you mutter, shaking your head. “I thought—I thought someone else would be your pen pal. Not me.”

A rush of emotions floods through you—shock, relief, excitement, fear. You’ve spent months pouring your heart into those letters, never once thinking that the girl you admired from afar, the girl who unknowingly made your heart race just by existing, was the very person you had been confiding in all along.

Yoonchae tilts her head playfully. “Why not? You’re pretty great,” she admits, her voice shy but genuine.

Your face burns. “You—You think so?”

She bites her lip before nodding. “Yeah. Reading your letters was my favorite part of the day.”

A comfortable silence settles between you. The music from the event plays softly in the background, and students mill around, laughing and exchanging gifts, but all you can focus on is the girl in front of you—the girl you had admired from afar, the girl who unknowingly became your safe space through written words.

You open your mouth to say something—anything—but the words get caught in your throat. Yoonchae must’ve noticed, because she takes a small step forward, her voice softer now. “So… what do we do now?”

You exhale, feeling the tension ease from your shoulders. Then, gathering every ounce of courage you have left, you smile. “We start over.”

Yoonchae tilts her head, curious. “Yeah?”

You nod, extending your hand between you. “Hi. I’m Y/N.”

For a second, she just stares at you. Then, with a laugh, she takes your hand, her fingers warm against your skin. “Nice to meet you, Y/N.”

And in that moment, under the soft red glow of the Valentine’s lights, it feels like something new is beginning. Something real.

Something that, for the first time in a long while, you’re not afraid to let yourself feel.

[adhdduckie]

candy grams. g.w. x reader

my masterlist

music choice; dandelions by ruth b

word count: 2.7 k

pt 2 soon

synopsis;

you've been in love with george for almost as long as you've known him.

that makes 6 years. and for the last 5, you've been in love with him.

valentines' day is around the corner. and you think it's a great idea to send him a candy gram anonymously. a/n - no valentines this year so i thought id finally lock in and give some of yall a treat! hope u enjoy + pls interact!

George Weasley is one of your favourite people ever. He's sweet, funny and kind when he wants to be. So, many girls you know have a crush on him. So do you. It's kind of a pain, most of the time. He's your best friend, you're so integrated into his family, the burrow is your second home. Molly loves you, and so does the rest of the family.

George and Fred are both large parts of your daily life. You're one of the only people who are able to tell them apart. They look exactly the same, but you're able to tell a difference. You're not even entirely sure how you know, but you just know.

Classes with the two are entertaining, you sitting between the two on a bench, stifled giggles can be heard throughout the classroom, and are a constant in every class you have with the twins. You're closest with George, having become friends in first year when you were placed next to him in potions after snape had enough of the twins sitting together.

Although it wasn't till second year before you realised you cared about george beyond a friend should. A constant figure in your mind, and a constant figure in your life, he invaded every moment of your life.

it wasn't like he did it on purpose. he was just everywhere you turned. In the hallways, laughing with fred while they made fun of Ron, next to you in classes, sitting across from you in the great hall at feeding times, and during the holidays when he'd send you constant letters on updates of things he and his brother made in their room. You were invited over a lot, but obviously you had to spend some time with your family before you went over to the burrow.

You had lived with these feelings for years, not many knew. Fred didn't, so George didn't. Hermione seemed to be the only one that knew, and it was only because of her intelligence was she able to figure out. 5th year was honestly the worst. Your O.W.Ls were coming around, and you had the stupid pink toad umbridge for a teacher. she was a pain in the ass, constantly punishing students for practically no reason.

Because McGonagall understood how everyone was in low spirits, she introduced the muggle idea of candy grams. There were some students who found them stupid since they derived from muggles, but you wanted to try it. So, on the fourteenth of february, you bought one. Sent it to George. left it anonymous, because you just wanted him to know someone out there liked him.

you regretted sending that damn candy gram not even 20 minutes later, the moment he came bounding into the common room with a pesky grin on his face, yelling out your name.

"what?" you said as you looked up from your book.

he shoved the paper under your nose, effectively poking you in the eyes with the corner of the paper. "look! someone sent me a candy gram." he grinned at you.

"congrats?" you say, trying to keep your cool, hoping that he couldn't tell that you were the one that wrote it. You didn't want to lose his friendship. It really meant too much to you, and you'd probably rather die than lose him.

"do you not get the significance of this moment?" he clutched his chest dramatically.

"i refuse to believe someone actually has a crush on you. You're such a menace to society." you tell him, rolling your eyes, trying to keep yourself together and not end up screaming and running away.

There's a knowing glint in his eyes that you don't seem to notice, but he doesn't respond or comment on anything. He shoves the note under your nose again, forcing you to read it.

"Dearest George,

I hope this note finds you well. I couldn't keep these feelings hidden any longer, but I must remain anonymous for now. Over the years, I've cherished our friendship more than words can express. But it's evolved into something deeper, something I can't deny.

You've become the light of my life, and I can't help but feel a love that goes beyond friendship. If one day, you discover who I am and feel the same way, I'll be waiting, ready to take a chance for us.

Until then, I remain in secrecy.

sincerely and with love,

a secret admirer"

he reads out by heart, as if he's memorised the entire thing already. you gape at him, not knowing what you're actually supposed to say right now. nothing has prepared you for this moment.

"well?" he demands, plopping his weight down on the cushion next to you.

"well what?" you ask him, slightly flushed from having a love note you've written read out to you by the person you like.

"what do you think? who do you think it is?" he questions you, bombarding you with several questions when you're still trying to process what possessed you to send him the candy gram in the first place.

"man, i don't know." you tell him, shrugging, turning back to your book, trying to move the topic on.

"oh come on y/n! help me out here! I'm your best friend..." he whines, dropping his head in your lap. It's a common habit of his, invading your personal space, but let's be honest, you don't mind in the slightest.

"what do you want me to do?" you sigh. He always has a way of making you crumble. He beams instantly, Sitting upright again, almost head butting you and giving you a lovely little concussion.

"help me find out who it is!" he responds with a cheeky grin.

"why, george? are you going to make fun of them or something?" you sigh tiredly, really wanting him to give up on this, but you know how he is. once he starts, it's hard to get him to stop.

"because, what if she's hot?" he wiggles his eyebrows at you, and you can't help but crack a smile at his simplicity.

"just because she might be hot? What if she's super ugly? What will you do then?" You tease him, but you do want to know what he's going to do when he finds out it was you, and crushes his hopes of it being Angelina Johnson.

"I know she's pretty." he responds in retaliation.

"how do you know?" you challenge, raising your eyebrow at him as you question your own sanity for liking someone like him.

"It's a gut feeling." he shrugs his shoulders, before standing up from the couch, offering you his hand to pull you up. you set your book down with a sad sigh, accepting his hand as he pulls you up. His hand envelops yours easily, as if they fit together, and his hands are a nice kind of warm, warm enough to make you feel happy, but not warm enough to make you clammy and sweaty. the perfect balance.

he's a lot stronger than you give him credit for, and he pulls you up easily, till you're standing almost chest to chest, well more like head to chest, since he's so much taller than you. If you looked up at him, you would be close enough to kiss. His smell envelopes you, a rich smell of freshly upturned grass and the smell of smoke and a Christmas fire.

you clear your throat abruptly, and the pair of you spring apart. you're avoiding eye contact with george, but if you looked at him you would see how the tips of his ears are red enough to match the colour of his hair.

You get a strange look from the other people in the common room, and fred, who's been close enough to hear the entire conversation, grins at what he's just realised.

He lets out a light chuckle, and you turn to look at him, raising your eyebrow. He shrugs and grins. George's deliberately avoiding eye contact, looking everywhere but you. Fred laughs louder, to the point where he needs to lean on the edge of a couch to prevent himself from falling over.

George pauses, looks at you, before he grins. "You can start helping me tomorrow." He says, before bouncing away, out of the portrait hole. Fred laughs even louder. You turn to him again, before frowning.

"what?" you ask him. It sets him off again, he only stops laughing when he starts coughing.

Fred holds up his finger, and you wait till he regains his composure. He takes another look at you before it sets him off again. You groan.

"I think i know who sent my dear brother the candy gram." He says, wiping a tear away from his eye with his index.

"oh yeah? who?" you ask. Your heart's thumping in your ears, but you're trying your best to seem calm and collected.

a smile stretches across his face, and he looks like he's planning something. "oh, my dear y/n. I do indeed. It seems the girl and i are quite close." he purrs, pulling you close into a hug. You sigh, wrapping your arms around fred.

"please don't tell him." you whisper, hiding your face into his chest. he smiles. He's viewed you as a little sister since the beginning, and he's glad you feel the same way for his brother as his brother does for you.

"i wouldn't dream of it. Unless.....?" he starts, but drifts off, not finishing the sentence.

"fred!" you whine, irritated.

"okay, okay." he laughs, pulling back from the hug, resting his hands on your shoulder, staring deep into your eyes. suddenly he goes serious, the smile dropping off his face quick.

"but seriously. If you never tell him, i'll do it eventually. You can't stay secret admirer forever, and i'm most likely going to die of frustration just watching you two." He finishes. Stepping back, plopping down onto the couch

"i shouldn't have done it fred! i don't know what i was thinking." you groan, hiding your face in his shoulder, plopping down next to him.

"well i think it was a good idea." fred says, throwing an arm carelessly across your shoulder. you groan in response, closing your eyes with a sigh.

the next couple of days are strange, to say the least. George actively seeks you out more than usual, the only topic he speaks of is his secret admirer. It's quite strange, having the object of your affections constantly speak of a romantic gesture you made toward them without them knowing. It's nice, but quite scary, to say the least.

there's the constant fear of being discovered, and when discovered, you're afraid that george is going to be disappointed that you were the one that sent it to him and not Angelina Johnson.

but whatever, you need to act as inconspicuous as possible, right? fred certainly isn't helping, constantly giggling to himself whenever the topic is brought up, while george flashes him a questioning side eye.

one day after potions lesson during lunch, you and george remain behind in the classrooms, cleaning up as a form of punishment from professor snape.

you're kneeling on the floor, cleaning up a spill from some third years. without magic. if it wasn't obvious that snape hated you beforehand, it is now.

you don't even remember what exactly it was that you did, but here you are anyway. george, who somehow got the easier task, is just sitting on a chair as he scrubs at some of the tables in the room.

"this is all your fault, george." you blame, rubbing at the persistent stain on the floor.

"how? you were the one giggling too loudly." george throws back at you. very maturely, you throw the rag you're using at his face. he blocks it, instead of hitting his face, it hits his arm with a wet 'thwump'.

'hey!" he complains at you, throwing it back at you. you duck out of the way, and it hits the wall behind you with another wet sound.

you turn to stare at where it went, and you look back at him, before you burst out into giggles together.

suddenly, you hear the sounds of footsteps, and knowing snape, you stumble to get the rag and go back the stain, rubbing at it with the best of your ability.

you hear the sound of the door groaning on its hinges as it slams open, revealing a disgruntled and angry prof snape.

“i thought. i heard laughter.” he drawls in his cold and distatched tone, the corner of his mouth turning down in distaste.

“no, professor. we wouldn’t dare. Perhaps it was Peeves running through.” you answer, in your best imitation of a innocent student, and professor turns his eyes onto you, glaring at you with distaste.

“i’d hope not. if i hear another peep out of you both, it’s 50 points from gryffindor. each.” he teels you, before swishing around in his ridiculous cape and exiting through the door.

you both turn to each other slowly, before doubling over in silent laughter, clutching your stomach insanely.

once you’ve both managed to contain yourselves, you get back to the work you’re supposed to doing, letting the silence pass between you comfortably.

you hear a little sigh leave george’s mouth, and you turn to look at him, noticing that he’s already looking at you.

“what?” you ask him, raising your brow at him.

he flushes a red that makes his freckles stand out, and you wish so desperately to count them all at some point.

you will manage to do that at some point if you’re lucky..you’ll probably have to disguise it as some kind of friendly activity…

he avoids your eye contact and he sighs, before looking back up at you for a second, before he asks, “are you sure you don’t know who wrote the candy gram?”

your heart stutters in your chest, a little part of you feeling an intense need to run as fast and as far as possible.

“yeah. sorry, george. I promise I asked around.” you so blatantly lie, and he just kind of stares at you, and he doesn’t look impressed at all. you swear his left eye twitches a little.

after a beat of you avoiding as much eye contact with him as possible, by looking somewhere else, anywhere else from him, because he honestly scares you a little and honestly any thing to do with your emotions so obviously displayed is quite terrifying.

another moment passes by you, and you try to turn your attention back to the stain you’re scrubbing at. you begin to stand up, about to go get some more soap to make sure the stain really does get out, when you hear george call your name.

‘….you do realise I can recognise your handwriting, right? we’ve been friends for ages.” he tells you, and your head whips to him so fast, you get whiplash.

“what?” you respond, ever the poet.

“your handwriting. I know you sent me the candy gram.” he mutters, standing up to match you, stalking forwards with his eyes set on you. “why are you lying?” he asks you, stopping right in front of you.

you can’t respond. you’re frozen, mouth wide open as you gape at him. he’s very close to you now, and you feel your heart thumping in your chest. “i don’t know what you’re talking about.” you lie, walking sideways as he follows you, while you try to face the door to escape.

“i know, for sure, that it was you who sent it to me.” He asserts again, following you, not to closely as to make you uncomfortable, as he is ever the kindest soul you will ever know.

you know that you are not ready to have this conversation right now, so you feign that someone is calling your name, and make a run for it. “oh. is that someone calling me? oh yes it is. Yes I’m coming!”

george tries to stop you, by putting an arm out to block you, but you duck under, sprinting out the door as quick as you can.

you’re swearing as you run, and you hear him call out your name, once, twice and then silence.

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

a/n -> this has been in my drafts for much more than a year so im glad i finally got it out... pt 2 soon!!!

pls pls pls pls interact and comment i love reading comments

[ribbonedreverie]

“Unsent Love Letters”

Words they will never say, letters they will never send.

──────────

💌 Osamu Dazai – “To the One Who Almost Made Me Stay”

My love,

I wrote this knowing you will never read it.

Isn’t that the safest way to say what I mean?

I have always been a man of contradictions—laughing at things I do not find funny, living in a world I have no interest in staying in, reaching for love while knowing I will never hold it long enough to keep.

You, my dear, were the cruelest of them all.

Because you almost made me want to stay.

And that—that is something I can never forgive.

You saw too much. You noticed too much. You looked at me as though you understood, and I have spent too long hiding to let someone see me so clearly.

And yet, I almost let you.

Almost.

If there is another life, I hope I love you properly in that one.

Yours (but never truly),

Osamu

💌 Chuuya Nakahara – “To the One I Would Have Burned the World For”

Hey, doll.

I don’t know why I’m writing this.

Maybe it’s because I never told you enough. Maybe it’s because I told you too much. Maybe it’s because you left, and I don’t know what to do with all the words I never said.

I would have burned the world for you. You know that, don’t you?

I would have given you everything I had, even the pieces of me I don’t know how to share.

But love—love is cruel.

And I am my own kind of monster.

I wonder if you ever think of me. If you ever wonder what would have happened if we had met in a different life, in a different world, where love did not come with a price.

I would have been better for you in that one.

But here? In this one?

I loved you the best way I knew how.

And I hope, somehow, that was enough.

Yours, always,

Chuuya

💌 Fyodor Dostoevsky – “To the One Who Thought They Could Save Me”

My dear,

You were a fool to love me.

A fool to believe in me.

A fool to think that someone like me—a man built of conviction and cruelty and ruin—could ever be softened by something as fleeting as love.

But you tried anyway.

You touched me like I was something fragile. You spoke my name like it was something worth whispering. You kissed me as if you thought I could be saved.

And for that, I will never forgive you.

Because for a moment—just a moment—I wanted to believe you.

That is the greatest sin of all.

I will not apologize. I will not beg. I will not ask for you to stay.

But if you do—know that I will ruin you in return.

Yours, if you dare,

Fyodor

💌 Nikolai Gogol – “To the One Who Should Have Known Better”

Ah, my dear!

Do you regret it? Do you wish you had run? Do you ever think back to the moment we met and wonder if things would have been easier if you had never looked my way?

Because I do.

I think about it often.

I think about how simple it would have been if I had never touched you, never kissed you, never let you get close enough to make me hesitate.

(Oh, what a terrible thing—hesitation.)

But you were fun. You were so fun.

And I am not a man who lets go of his entertainment so easily.

So tell me, darling—was it worth it?

Would you do it again?

Even knowing how this ends?

With a smile,

Nikolai

💌 Sigma – “To the One Who Made Me Feel Like More Than a Gamble”

I’m scared.

That’s all I know how to say.

I’m scared of what it means to love someone. I’m scared of what it means to be loved. I don’t know if I deserve it, if I know how to return it, if I know how to hold something that is not meant to slip through my fingers like all the other things I have lost.

But I wanted to try.

With you, I wanted to try.

I wonder if that is enough.

If you could be patient with me. If I could learn how to love without fear.

I don’t know how this story ends.

But if you are in it—I hope it is a happy one.

Yours (if you’ll have me),

Sigma

💌 Ryunosuke Akutagawa – “To the One Who Showed Me Softness”

I do not know how to say this.

I do not know how to say anything, really—not the things that matter, not the things you want to hear.

So I will say this instead.

I see you.

I see the way you wait for me to speak, the way you listen even when I have nothing to say.

I see the way you do not flinch when I reach for you, the way you do not ask for things I do not know how to give.

I see the way you are patient with me, even when I do not deserve it.

And I think—I think I love you for it.

I do not know if I will ever say this aloud.

But if you ever wonder—know that I have never tried this hard for anyone before.

And if that is not love, then I do not know what is.

Yours, in whatever way I know how,

Akutagawa

💌 Ranpo Edogawa – “To the One Who Already Knows”

Why would I write a letter when you already know what I’m going to say?

You always do.

You read me too well. You know my moods, my habits, the way I lean against you like a cat seeking warmth but refuse to admit I need you.

You know I will never say I love you outright—because it’s obvious, isn’t it?

I do not waste time stating facts.

I do not waste time on things that are already understood.

But if you need to hear it—if you ever need proof—just look at the way I let you stay.

Look at the way I let you close.

Look at the way I never correct you when you assume I love you.

Because you are right.

You always are.

Yours (as if that wasn’t obvious),

Ranpo

──────────

There’s something tragically beautiful about unsent love letters—words aching to be read, confessions swallowed by time. They hold a love that lingers, untouched by reality, forever suspended in what-ifs. Perhaps in another life, I sent them. Perhaps you read them. But here, they remain unread, and maybe that’s where they were always meant to stay. ♡

[batboysanonymous]

Watching, Waiting, Wanting

Azriel x Reader

Summary: Azriel was never a good man, not when it came to her—his darkness, his obsession, his carefully crafted devotion was something no one, not even the Mother herself, could sever.

Based on the song: THE DINER by Billie Eilish

───────────────────────────────

"Don't be afraid of me, I'm what you need..."

Y/N didn’t know he was there.

She never did. Not really.

She moved through Velaris with a softness Azriel could never replicate, a kind of weightlessness that made him feel like he could breathe when he hadn’t realized he’d been drowning.

She sat by her window now, curled up in an armchair with a book in her lap, one hand absentmindedly twirling a loose strand of hair.

Completely unaware.

Azriel stood across the street, concealed by the darkness, the night his oldest companion. He shouldn’t be here. He told himself that every time, and yet, every night, he returned.

She had left her window cracked, just slightly.

An invitation. A mistake.

A predator’s instinct coiled in his gut, urging him forward. She should be more careful, should know better than to let anything in.

But he liked that she didn’t.

That she was soft in a way that let his darkness wrap around her, unseen, unheard.

She didn’t know she was being watched. Didn’t know how often he stood just outside her reach, content to linger in the space between them, waiting.

Waiting for the moment she would finally be his.

"I saw you on the screens, I know we're meant to be..."

Azriel had known her for years, long before the bond snapped.

It started with glances, with fleeting moments where she felt like an anomaly, an itch beneath his skin he couldn’t quite scratch.

Then, it became more.

He memorized her routine before he even let himself admit how deeply she consumed him.

She didn’t see his shadows—she never flinched from them the way others did. If anything, they curled toward her, drawn to her warmth, to her very essence.

Like him.

She walked through Velaris without a care, brushing her fingers over books in shop windows, offering soft smiles to vendors, living in a world that had never been kind to him.

Azriel wanted to be the one to keep her that way—untouched, unbothered by the horrors of reality.

And yet, he also wanted her to see him.

Not just as the quiet male in the shadows.

But as something inevitable.

"I'm here around the clock, I'm waiting on your block..."

It had escalated quickly.

At first, it was only coincidence. He told himself that every time he found himself in her favorite café, at the bookstore she visited every Sunday, lingering on the rooftops above her home when he should have been anywhere else.

But it wasn’t coincidence.

He was waiting. Watching. Keeping her safe from anything that might dare touch what was his.

And she was his.

Even if she didn’t know it yet.

Even if the bond had snapped for him and not her.

She would understand, one day.

One day, she would thank him.

"Bet I could change your life, you could be my wife..."

The bond had been a mercy and a curse.

A relief, because now he knew.

A curse, because it made his need insatiable.

She didn’t know yet. He hadn’t told her.

Not because he didn’t want to, but because she wasn’t ready.

He had spent centuries waiting for something that had never come, and now that it had, he would not rush it.

She needed time to accept what he already understood.

That she belonged to him.

That she would always belong to him.

"I waited on the corner 'til I saw the sitter leave..."

Tonight was different.

Tonight, she had made a mistake.

She had gone to dinner—with him.

Azriel knew the male wasn’t worthy. He had watched them together, seen the way his hand had brushed over her wrist, how he had leaned too close, spoken too softly.

As if he had any right.

Azriel waited outside her townhome as the male walked her to the door, his fingers clenching as he lingered.

She was smiling.

And Azriel saw red.

His shadows writhed around him, screaming for violence, for blood, for a retribution he was barely restraining himself from delivering.

He let the male walk away.

For now.

"I saw you in the car with someone else and couldn't sleep. If something happens to him, you can bet that it was me..."

It didn’t take long to find him.

The male still smelled like her, like the warmth of her touch, like the laughter she had given so freely at dinner.

Azriel stalked him through the empty streets, silent, patient.

When the male finally noticed him, it was already too late.

Azriel was on him in a breath, shadows wrapping around his throat, a blade pressing just below his chin.

“You will not see her again,” Azriel murmured, voice a deadly whisper.

The male stilled, his pulse hammering against the cold steel.

“I—I don’t understand—”

Azriel pressed harder, just enough to make the male’s breath hitch.

“She's mine.”

He let the words hang, let them sink in.

And then, he was gone.

But the warning was given.

If the male touched her again—looked at her again—

He wouldn’t live to regret it.

"I memorized your number, now I call you when I please..."

Her voice was soft when she answered the phone.

“Hello?”

Azriel didn’t speak.

He just listened.

She hesitated, the silence stretching between them.

She should have hung up.

She didn’t.

She knew.

Not fully, not yet. But some small, secret part of her understood she wasn’t alone.

That something was watching.

That he was watching.

The realization made his lips curl.

He let the silence stretch, let the tension coil between them through the receiver.

Then, softly, possessively—

“I’ll see you soon, little dove.”

And he hung up.

⋆˖⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺˖⋆⋆˖⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺˖⋆⋆˖⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺˖⋆⋆˖⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺˖⋆⋆˖⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺˖⋆

Want to join my tag list? Drop a comment or check out this link to submit a specific series you would like tagged in! (Or if you just don't want to comment, that's okay too)

[obsessedhoneycomb]

Red Mercedes

George Russell x fem!reader

Summary: Perfect married life sometimes hides the rotten truth of lies.

Warnings: cheating, slight manipulation, George getting what’s his at all cost, curse words and smut implication

Word count: 1.5k

A/N: After a frustrating week of not having any good ideas, I had a dream, so I finally had something to pour my heart into. It was so intense that it didn't let me eat my lunch, how fast my fingers drummed at the keyboard and my thoughts flew out of my brain. Enjoy it! :) wanted to include my favorite pregnancy trope, but i decided to not go that way this time

———

“Dad, I’m trying to tell you that mum is acting weird.” Your twelve year old son was travelling with George to Cayman Island for this event he was invited to, to speak about his ongoing career path as a leading F1 champion. 

George glanced at him, his hands gripping the steering wheel, regally upset about the fact that even your son noticed that something isn't right with your marriage.

“Mum is just tired. That’s all.” he tried to brush it off, but he knew. 

“You know, dad, I’m not stupid. I saw her with some man a week ago, sitting at the restaurant when we were out on a bike with boys. She was smiling at him like… Well, not like she’s smiling at you.” his son continued to ponder with his thoughts, pouring his mind out, making George feel uneasy. Pulling over at the hotel they were supposed to stay at, engine off, he turned his body to face his son.

“Buddy, I know that you love your mom, hell, who could not love her.. But she’s- it’s just a phase. I’m gonna figure it out, and you have nothing to worry about.” he tried to reassure him with his soft smile, his eyes betraying him, reflecting the weight of the growing lies.

———

“I see that you’re here with your son, he grew so much throughout the years, aren’t you afraid that he’s gonna be after you soon, you know, with racing and stuff?” 

George chuckled, moving his gaze at his giggling son in the first row, his sweaty palm wrapped around the microphone. “Well, there is the possibility, but his hobbies are different. He’s much more of a cyclist, so I think that Tadej Pogacar should be scared of having another rival.” 

“Oh, that’s great! Guess the Russell’s family is spreading through the field of sports. It’s a shame that your wife isn’t here with us, we had planned to have a family photo shoot for you, also spending some time on the yacht with the staff here.” 

George was professional at keeping his composure, so he just chuckled again, looking at the crowd of people in the small room.

“We can do that anyway, we don’t need my wife for that. She’s busy with some of her other projects, so…” 

Everybody seemed to be happy about it, not noticing the slight frown on George’s face and his son’s.

You were staying at home in Monaco, texting with your lover. Your naive brain was living in an illusion that nobody knows, you sneaking around with someone else, secret meetings at the old restaurant on the other side of the town, your red luxurious Mercedes parked in front of it very often. You were really dumb in some aspects and being so careless about getting after your own desires, you hurt your family in the process.

All those years of your marriage you heard it around you all the time, how George is a gentleman, kind guy, loving and caring husband and father, how every other woman would die for having him just for at least five minutes. But nobody saw that toll that had an impact on you, your life when you fell pregnant unexpectedly, and how George married you just because of it. Feeding you with all those empty promises, but leaving you alone through all that maternity shit because he was at the peak of his career while you were breastfeeding his restless son at night.

Yeah, there were times you were genuinely happy as a family, somewhere between the three to ten years of your son, George was more present, you accompanied him at races from time to time, depending on how his and your parents were willing to look after your kid. 

But the last two years felt like a nightmare, because George won another two championships after five years of no luck, his fans being literally everywhere, even breaking into your home. You spent a lot of time on the go, changing your location and you grew tired of this. Intimity between you and George was long gone, and you yearned for something he couldn’t give you, the tension, secrecy and passion. Even if it meant to destroy everything you have.

———

Darkness overtook the docks in Monaco, rain washing away the summer heat wave. George stood at the huge ass window of your penthouse, sipping on his whiskey, even though he did not favour the liquid that much, he got used to it from time to time. Your son was away for the holiday cycling camp, and with summer break in F1, it left him home alone with the lingering scent of your expensive perfume you saved for your not so secret lover. His mind wandered over divorce, but he was too prideful to let it happen. He didn’t care about your needs, shameful desires, he wanted to keep his family together. Even if it meant to ruin your sweet secret life. And he knew his plan was working the minute you stepped into your home through the threshold, sobbing quietly, with your dress soaked through, droplets of water dripping down your hair. His lips curling into smirk, he took the last sip of his drink, leaving the glass on the coffee table in the living room, walking slowly to the hallway.

You kicked off your heels, running your hands through your wet hair, wiping off your tears along the way, your mascara staining your cheeks. Feeling how your dress is sticking to your body, you let out a frustrated sigh with a whine, finally noticing George standing in the doorway, his arms folded over his chest wearing an unreadable expression.

“What’s the matter baby?” his tone was laced with smugness, he couldn’t hold it back anymore, seeing the mess you were.

“Nothing.” you muttered, trying to walk around him to get to the bathroom, but he was after you.

“You’re clearly distressed. Tell me what happened. You were supposed to have a night out with girls, if I remember correctly?” yeah, he was playing dumb.

“I was. But my car left me in the parking lot, because the smoke started to go out of the engine and I needed to call the towing service and-” you stopped in your rant abruptly as you got to the part you wanted to erase from your memory and you didn’t want to talk about it with George.

“And? Tell me darling.” his tone was firm, demanding, he caged your body against the counter in the bathroom.

You looked up to see his face, locking your gaze with his, reading his mind. He knew. And yet he was still there.

“He left me.” with your head slumped down you whispered feeling deeply ashamed. 

George smiled victoriously as the memory from earlier this week flashed through his mind, him paying that pathetic lover of yours loads of money to leave you, to ruin you, to destroy you.

“Oh baby.” he cooed sweetly, cupping that mascara stained cheeks of yours, listening to your sobs. And that was the last straw and you broke down in tears, all of the suppressed emotions flowing out as you wrapped your arms around him tightly, remorse and guilt building in your heart. 

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry…” you whispered into his chest, your tears staining his shirt. 

“Shhh… I’m right here baby. It’s okay.” his fingers brushed through your hair affectionately, making you relax.

“You should be disgusted with me…” 

“Believe me, I was at first. But from your point of view I somehow understood it.” 

“How… How long have you known?”

“Since the first time you giggled at your phone.”

“I thought that I’m good at hiding it.” 

“Oh, you were so naive that I won’t notice. You weren’t even creative at hiding your car properly. That exclusive red shade of it doesn't go unnoticed. Even our son saw you many times.” 

You shuddered when you felt his lips ghosting against your temple. The mention of your son stabbed you through your heart. 

“George, I-” 

“Shhh, darling. Your stupid boyfriend ditched you, so let your husband, the man who truly knows how to devour you, take care of you.” George whispered with a soft hum, his lips pressed under your ear.

The way he talked made you feel ashamed. But it ignited something within you, the lust and desire for him. And it made you curse internally at how dumb you were for the past years.

“I’m gonna make sure you remember who you belong to.” 

After the night to remember when George really took you like a slut you were, listening to your whines and moans, making you tell him how that lover made you feel, what he did to you, he made sure that you won’t escape his embrace again. Watching you sleep beside him, your body covered in love bruises and marks he hasn’t seen on you for months, he brushed the strand of your hair from your face, smiling proudly at how easy you were. All those years he thought you’re this soft and reserved girl who likes vanilla in bed, only to find out that you loved to be cock drunk all the time, overstimulated to the madness to keep your mind from wandering outside of the wedlock. 

“You were so wrong to think that I’d let you go, my beautiful wife…” and his whisper lingered through your sleeping brain like a lullaby.

-

Please don't use my writings without a permission. Pictures found on Pinterest.

Tags: @chilling-seavey

[himasgod]

Sharing Valentine's Day with NRC

POMEFIORE VER.

HEARSTLABYUL VER SAVANACLAW VER OCTAVINELLE VER SCARABIA VER IGNIHYDE VER DIASOMNIA VER

SCENARIO: The morning sun shone down on Night Raven College as students prepared for Valentine’s Day. Classes had ended earlier than usual, and the hallways were filled with rumors of chocolates, a few confessions, and secret dates. Despite the general excitement for that day of remembering and sharing, you hadn’t planned anything special for that day. Or at least, that’s what you thought.

But he had been acting oddly suspicious since the night before. You’d noticed his furtive glances and failed attempts at hiding smiles whenever you came near. You knew he was up to something.

With Vil Schoenheit, Rook Hunt and Epel Felmier

Vil Schoenheit

Valentine's Day in Pomefiore was an event in itself. From dawn, the rooms were decorated with purple and white roses, the mirrors reflected soft lights, and the air smelled of expensive perfume. Everything had been planned down to the last detail, and the person responsible could be none other than Vil Schoenheit.

You had received an invitation from Vil for a private dinner that evening. He hadn't given you many details, only insisting that you should arrive on time and dressed for the occasion.

When you reached the entrance of Pomefiore, the moon shone brightly over the castle. The golden doors opened to reveal a path lit by chandeliers. At the back, Vil was waiting for you, impeccable as always. He was dressed in a black suit with gold details, his hair pulled back in a polished braid, and his lips painted with a light touch of color.

"You're just in time," he said with a satisfied smile. "I knew you wouldn't disappoint me."

He offered you his arm, and together you walked to a private terrace adorned with silk curtains and a table beautifully decorated with candles and fresh flowers.

“This is all amazing, Vil,” you said, admiring the effort he had put into every detail.

“Nothing less than perfection for this special night.”

Dinner was spent in a warm and relaxed atmosphere. Vil, always refined, personally served you each dish, explaining the ingredients and their origin. You had shared many moments before, but tonight there was something different in the air. A softness in his eyes, a vulnerability he rarely showed.

“You know I am someone who always seeks to improve, to be stronger, more beautiful, more successful,” he said, setting his glass of wine down on the table. “But with you… I feel like I don't need to change anything.”

Your eyes met, and for a moment, the entire world seemed to stop.

"Vil…"

“Tonight is not just about celebrating Valentine’s Day. I want to thank you for being by my side, even when I'm unbearable."

Vil pulled out a small velvet box and handed it to you.

“This is for you.”

Inside was a gold star-shaped brooch, encrusted with tiny diamonds that sparkled under the moonlight.

“I want you to wear it as a reminder that you always shine with your own light. You don’t need to be perfect to be special.”

You felt a lump in your throat as he helped you pin it onto your clothes.

“Thank you, Vil. It means a lot to me.”

“Happy Valentine’s Day.” he said softly, leaning down to kiss your forehead.

Rook Hunt

Valentine’s Day in Pomefiore was always shrouded in an almost theatrical atmosphere, and no one lived it with as much passion as Rook Hunt. His romantic spirit and devotion to the beauty of life made him the perfect ally for the occasion.

That morning, you found a note written in elegant calligraphy and a drawing of an arrow crossing a heart.

“Ma chère, the beauty of this day deserves to be explored together. Meet me at the Lounge at dusk.”

You knew it could only be Rook, with his dramatic flair and ability to transform any moment into something special.

When you arrived at the Lounge, Rook was waiting for you in a sofa decorated with vines and fresh flowers.

“Ah, my muse has arrived,” he said, smiling with genuine enthusiasm. “I was looking forward to sharing this day with you.”

Rook led you through the outside, stopping to show you every detail he found fascinating: a flower blooming in winter, the way the light filtered through the leaves, and even a tiny ladybug that had landed on his finger.

“True beauty is in the details, in the things others don’t always see,” he said passionately. “But you, ma chèrie, are the embodiment of all that is beautiful.”

His words were intense, but sincere. With Rook, every moment felt like a work of art in itself.

Finally, he led you to a clearing in the garden, where he had laid out a small picnic with pastries, fresh fruit, and a pitcher of homemade lemonade. He invited you to sit down, and once you were settled, he pulled out a small box wrapped in gold ribbon.

“This is for you. A little memento of this special day.”

Inside was a necklace with an arrow-shaped pendant.

“May you always remember that my heart is pointed towards you, always guided by the beauty I see in you.”

You were deeply touched by his gift and his sincerity.

“Thank you, Rook. This day has been perfect.”

Rook took your hand and looked into your eyes with an intensity that only he could have.

“Happy Valentine’s Day, ma chèrie. May every day together be a new adventure in search of beauty.”

Epel Felmier

Valentine's Day at Night Raven College was always a mix of chaos and surprises, but for Epel Felmier, the day brought a different kind of anxiety. At Pomefiore, expectations of perfection and elegance were high, something that clashed with him honest and forthright nature.

You were in your room in Ramshackle when you heard a tap on the window. A small stone crashed into the glass without breaking it. Opening it, you saw Epel standing in the garden, hands in his pockets and a nervous expression on his face.

“Hey, can you come down for a moment?” he called out to you.

Curious, you went downstairs and found him waiting with a bouquet of wildflowers. The flowers were a little messy, but they were full of life, just like Epel.

“I'm not good with this fancy stuff, but… do you want to spend the day with me? I don't promise perfection, but I do promise something real.”

Epel led you into the woods near, where the trees still held some winter frost. The crisp air was filled with the promise of spring. You walked together, talking about anything and everything at once.

“Valentine’s Day always feels like a performance at Pomefiore,” he admitted, kicking a rock along the way. “But with you, I want to just be me.”

You stopped by a large, moss-covered tree, and Epel turned to you, his expression more open and vulnerable than ever.

“I like how you accept me just the way I am. I don’t have to prove anything when I’m with you.”

His words were so honest that they filled you with warmth.

“I feel that way with you, too, Epel. Thank you for always being yourself.”

Epel had prepared a small picnic on an old blanket he had spread out under the tree. He had brought a bottle of homemade apple cider and an apple pie baked by his grandmother in Harveston.

“It’s nothing fancy, but it’s the best I have.”

The pie was delicious, filled with the love and dedication of his family. As you ate together, the sun began to descend, and the sky was filled with golden and orange hues.

As night fell, you lay on the blanket, looking up at the stars. Epel took your hand, intertwining his fingers with yours.

“Thank you for spending this day with me. I don’t need anything more than this.”

You felt a deep calm and sincere happiness at that moment. You knew that, with Epel, everything would always be authentic.

“Happy Valentine’s Day, Epel.”

“Happy Valentine’s Day."

[reflectionsofacreator]

[takes a long drink from my Arizona iced tea] so like one of the central themes for FFXV is like, growing up, sure. You know that, I know that, whatever. Coming of age, coming into your own, taking the mantle of king, whatever you wanna call it. Cool, awesome, we love a good coming of age story!

But I find the sub theme of that one to be probably the most fascinating? By and large, all the chocobros have to deal with the fallout of being lied to by the adult figures in their lives, and it's the most prevalent with Noctis and Gladio. Don't get me wrong, there's a lot of it in Ignis and Prompto too, but the particularly insidious way that Noctis and especially Gladio were lied to sometimes gets me.

See I don't even really think it was actually all that intentional. Not really a conscious act by Regis and Clarus, or the society around them? More like... I dunno, the lies that you get told by your parents as a little kid and you grow up to realize that the world is a lot different than you thought.

That being said, Noctis was absolutely lied to by his father; both about the nature of the King of Light and the idea that he'd succeed Regis as reigning monarch. Regis did it out of love, knowing that Noctis would die young, and reasoned that Noctis should get to have a relatively normal life, but it was still a lie. Gladio, likewise, was lied to by his father and Regis, told that he would be the next monarch's Shield, that he would fulfill a role that's got a pretty set expectation in their society.

See, Gladio expects Noctis to act a certain way, to act as King, and he gets increasingly frustrated when Noctis doesn't, or can't live up to that. He's not precisely wrong to expect it either, given their roles and their statues, and knowing that they're taking the throne during a full blown war. The problem is that Noctis was never taught how to be the thing that Gladio was told Noctis was going to be? And that's what causes friction with them all the time. It's fascinating, watching it play out and realizing the underlying issues with their relationships actually have very little to do with them as people and instead because of what they were told to expect from each other.

Gladio is also his own kettle of fish that I don't think the narrative is quite self aware enough to articulate properly, or even get into. Gladio falls into the trap of toxic masculinity very often -- struggling to articulate his feelings, expressing most of his feelings as anger, picking fights rather than talking about what's going on, using his strength as both a character aspect and bonus, etc. The list goes on. There's also the fact that he's sort of portrayed as a bit of a womanizer and the masculine ideal; tall, rugged, strong, etc which plays into all of that. XV plays him very straight (and straight) with these concepts, and just sort of ... expects it to be fine? Which is at odds with how the other three bros interact and are more emotionally available towards each other, leaving Gladio as one of the weaker bros in canon.

It kind of sucks too, because like, there's so much to unpack with him? His DLC is about wanting to have the strength to protect Noctis on the surface, but really when you look at it... you could also argue that the DLC is about Gladio's fears that he'll end up as dead as his dad did (ha, try that for alliteration) and the crushing weight of failure. Gladio has every right to fear his mortality, fear the fact that he is, nominally, the first in line on the battlefield and the the last defense for Noctis. If Noctis is to die, they will go through him first, and that's! Scary! But the game doesn't really get into that, hardly at all, and it makes picking up the pieces for Gladio kind of frustrating. Out of all the bros, he's the one I have to dig the most to find any kind of depth despite being prime real estate for it.

Anyways Gladio and Noctis' dynamic is fascinating if you actually start to unpack it, especially because it's built on the lies that their fathers fed them as children (that they themselves also bought into). I'd go so far to argue that between the two pairs, Noct/Gladio is in much more of a dire need to sit down and actually hash out what they are to each other, outside of their king/shield dynamic. Noct/Iggy certainly has shades of that, but Ignis has decided that they are friends and that he will defy fate if he must, let the world burn if he must, to save Noct's life. That has some depth beyond king/retainer that they're presented as. Noct/Gladio are sort of just... falling into the king/shield dynamic because they're expected to, and it sort of hampers their relationship and their communication.

I'm gonna scramble them both like eggs, probably into an omelette. They make me Think you know