#like i said in my tags on that post: this is what he does IN PUBLIC.

[hitlikehammers]

POV: when you overhear your boyfriend’s bandmates who ⛔️do not like you⛔️ talking to him—about YOU

“Be real though, Ed. Harrington? You can’t actually be serious, here.” Steve doesn’t like to eavesdrop, like, on principle. Which is to say he totally does it. He just doesn’t wholly approve of it, or think it’s a very good habit to have, while still doing it. “You got me,” Eddie sighs, longer and deeper than can be taken wholly seriously. “I’m running my longest successful con to date.”

rating: t ♥️ tags: post-s4, established relationship, corroded coffin, as in: the gang’s all here and being VERY JUDGEMENTAL of eddie’s taste in men, and maybe steve had to pick eddie up from practice today so he overhears it WHOLLY WITHOUT INTENDING TO OKAY?, no one ever REALLY want to hear what the people they love really think of them when said people don’t know who all’s actually listening, true love, declarations of feelings, it’s actually really fucking hard to stand up to your friends, happy ending♥️

for @steddielovemonth day ten: "We are all a little weird and life's a little weird, and when we find someone whose weirdness is compatible with ours, we join up with them and fall in mutual weirdness and call it love." —Dr. Seuss

also! Unnamed Freak is Doug for the purpose of this fic because the book can fuck itself I say so 🖤

“Be real though, Ed,” the voice that filters through, and holds Steve’s hand from pushing the car door shut loud enough to notice, is fairly reasonable, like trying to talk down a suggestion absurd enough to send someone to the ER—which means, of the subjects at hand? It’s gotta be Jeff.

“You can’t actually be serious, here.”

Steve doesn’t like to eavesdrop, like, on principle.

Which is to say he totally does it.

He just doesn’t wholly approve of it, or think it’s a very good habit to have, while still doing it.

“You got me,” Eddie deadpans, but it’s like, venom-laced. It stings just to hear and Steve’s struck with how much his life’s changed since Spring Break, and more still since…well.

Since Eddie.

Because Steve is well aware the man can cut glass with how sharp his tongue can get, they did go to high school together whether they ran in the same circles or not.

It’s just strikes Steve in the moment that not once since Vecna, has Eddie turns that tongue on him.

Now, other uses of his tongue—

“I’m running my longest successful con to date. Yep, totally pulled it over on all you bitches,” and where it could be playful, every single word is sharpened to stab, to pierce, to drag the wound out so it bleeds, like a shiv to remind someone where they fucked up, in perpetuity.

“Please applaud.”

And oh, even Steve flinches at that tone, and he’s not even the target. Hell, he’s still in the driveway—he doesn’t make a rule of crashing band practice, no matter whose parents’ garage they’re using; Eddie’s van is just regularly in the shop for one thing or another, so he’s gotta come get his man. But he doesn’t, like, push his way in. Sometimes doesn’t even get out of the driver’s seat. He knows Eddie would more than welcome him; has the handful of times he’s ventured to step in to apologize for interrupting but remind him they have to pick up the shitheads. But one: Eddie is alone in his welcome, and like, the polar opposite of the other three guys, who range from staring daggers at Steve to sneering so scrunched up to the nose that it’d give Carol Perkins at her snittiest a run for her money.

And Steve wouldn’t have made it this far if he didn’t know how to recognise where he’s not wanted, and learn how to make the calculated decision of whether to walk or push his way in. And much as he loves Eddie? Steve actually wants his friends to eventually come around from probably, like, muttering ancestral curses under their breaths at him or something.

Plus, from what Steve understands? Jam sessions are personal. Sacred. Eddie had blushes and stammered the first time he let Steve listen in on works in progress; and Steve had rewarded him for the gift of it liberally and with genuine gusto. It’s earned him repeat performances on the regular, but Steve gets it’s a private thing in general. And these guys don’t know him, don’t presently care to—don’t trust him.

He figures it’s like…masturbating in front of someone. The art thing, the depth of making music and stuff. Showing your soul a little bit, losing control for the betterment of the final product.

Now, he and Eddie definitely have masturbated together, it’s actually fantastic foreplay, or even just a deliciously sloppy go on its own. But that’s neither here nor there. And also totally fucking different.

Steve really doesn’t want Eddie masturbating in front of anyone other than him, ever again. Steve’s sure as shit not looking to on his end; definitely not with the other members of Corroded fucking Coffin.

The metaphor might have gotten away from him. But you get the picture.

“No, man,” and that’s, that’s Gareth’s voice, Steve’s almost sure. Sharper. Concerned but also caustic on the undertow. “It’s just,” he snorts, the disbelieving sort: “this can’t be real.”

Okay, yeah. Tone plus actual words add up.

“Yeah, just,” Doug laughs a little nervous, like of all of them, Eddie’s verbal attack had the most weight in tempering his response of the three of them; “blink twice if you’re being held against your will.”

They all chuckle, but it’s toned down the whole way around—even Steve can clock that. These guys are boisterous when left to their devices, Steve’s taken note of that. Mostly watching from the sidelines—almost exclusively when they don’t know he’s there to watch.

Again: does not condone eavesdropping.

Does not try at all to refrain from doing it.

“I mean, you don’t expect us to believe you’re actually fucking him,” and oh, yeah, okay: Steve was pretty sure he was the topic conversation here, and despite some of the setbacks of recent years, he’s not insecure when it comes to relationships especially.

He’s definitely the only one fucking Eddie. And Eddie’s the only one fucking him.

And while he doesn’t really hold it against these guys for being wary of him—he wasn’t really a perpetrator of their high school woes, but he definitely didn’t do anything to make them less…woeful—so he’s mostly bummed about it for Eddie’s sake, and on principle, but like, seriously.

Doubting Steve successfully scoring Eddie Munson? Like, Eddie’s a catch, Steve of ll people is well aware, but. Steve’s also been long past fishing the shallow end of the pond, y’know?

Give him some credit.

“Right,” Steve narrows back in on what’s happening in the garage that he’s definitely feeling less guilty bout, seeing as he’s definitely a subject of the debate unfolding, but Eddie sounds…angry. Pissed off in that way he gets when he’s fed the fuck up.

“I’m out,” Steve hears scraping of equipment, the guitar case flipped open; “can’t actually make it next week,” he adds like a footnote.

It’s clear within a second he’s the only one who takes it with that same…energy.

“But we have to practice before the open mic—” Jeff, ever the voice of reason, sounds baffled; on his way to ticked off but not quite there yet.

Eddie, however—as is his wont in this type of mood—could not give two shits where the people around him land on the anger-o-meter; he’s exceeded them, even if only in his own head, and they are all therefore irrelevant to his very responsible decision to put distance between himself and doing something stupid he can’t take back.

It’s not the nicest way to deal but, honestly? Steve’s mostly just proud of Eddie for sticking with a coping mechanism that, while not without consequences, generally works better than most.

“I’ll see you guys in two, then. Probably.” And the case clicks shut, definitive, and Steve’s proud of that too; that Eddie’s not digging a hole when the guys re trying to bait him, intentionally or not, over Steve.

Steve doesn’t need Eddie to complicate his band, his friendships, over what the two of them have. One, it’s not their fucking business. And two?

Steve doesn’t thing he’s being self-important in saying he and Eddie…are bigger, and more, than even the very beat high school band.

Not that Steve would ever ask Eddie to choose or some bullshit like that. And he really does believe Eddie’s going places, if that’s what he decides he wants. But…there’s that.

Then there is them.

Different, like, stratospheres.

“What the fuck came up that you can’t make it next week? When we’re staring down our first actual shot at Battle of the Bands this year,” and yeah, of course, if anyone’s gonna try to drag the whole thing out, it’s Gareth. Kid’s got a fucking temper.

“Something more important.”

Which yeah, that’s what was going through Steve’s mind, basically, but—

“The hell could be more—“

“I have plans,” Eddie hisses, viper-quick and fucking deadly, shuts them all right up for it, but then he spins a 180–preens so big Steve swears he can hear his shoulders go back and his chest puff out:

“It’s my anniversary.”

So…yeah. Just because it was where Steve’s head had just been at doesn’t mean his whole chest goes all gooey to hear it said out loud.

And in front of Eddie’s band, who…they aren’t hiding from, but they have discussed keeping kinda mum around. For the same kinds of reasons Steve’s been privy to just in the past couple minutes.

But then Eddie’s voice follows the feeling in Steve’s chest like they’re tethered there, and honestly, more times than not?

Steve thinks they just might actually be, and he’s not proven wrong with the way Eddie halfway coos:

“Our anniversary.”

“Your what?”

Jeff, again, is that middle ground: actually confused, laced with being angry that Eddie’s ducking out.

“Six months,” Eddie answers, soft-like, a little dreamy but in this way that’s rooted somehow still, and in being struck all over again by a level of shock Steve understands, sometimes feels in reverse, but still doesn’t understand being felt so deep as it sounds, now, when it’s applied to…him.

It’s wild y’know?

“I’m like,” Steve hears Eddie’s curls brush against something as he shakes his head—Steve’s money’s on him crouched by his case, or having it already slung over his shoulder:

“Never thought I’d get something to celebrate like that in the first place, but get to keep it, that long without fucking it up?”

Steve, again, wants to give up the pretense and walk the fuck in there and kiss the shit out of his boyfriend because one, same, but two?

Dumbass.

Steve goddamn adores him.

“You mean, with Harrington?” Gareth’s spitting and Steve just shakes his head, a little sad—he doesn’t know what’s crawled up that kid’s ass about him, man; he’s not so much younger that Steve never saw him or didn’t know of him but godDamn: the circles he ran in at the time weren’t the ones doing shit yet when they were in the same elementary school, Steve was barely popular in middle school, and come high school the worst anyone he knew did to the frosh was bang them into a locker—not great, but.

Not worth this shit. And the worst part is if he doesn’t know what’s crawled he did to really piss Gareth off this bad? He can’t even try to Harrington-charm his way back into the guy’s tolerable category. Like, even his best fucking not-pot brownie recipe didn’t sway the fucker.

“Yes,” Eddie is answering, the answer emphatic, like he’s brimming with feeling over it, but then clipped too, like demonstrating that he was brimming and is now being forced to clip it all backis very much the intent: “of course I mean with Steve, who the fuck else?”

It’s not lost on Steve how Eddie says his name. Ever. All the name.

But right now, how he’s making a point to say it in that warm, kinda…beloved way, when anyone else uses his last name in a way that’s anything-but.

“You cannot be—” Gareth scoffs, Steve can imagine him throwing up his hands, that sort of deal, but then Eddie comes in, and it’s a tone Steve’s only ever hear when he’s about to run a campaign into the ground where the characters may never recover, and if somehow manage it, they’ll wish they hadn’t:

“Oh, I am deadly serious.”

Because it’s not Steve’s character, but in defense of Steve’s relationship, that tone trickles something molten through his veins and prickles up his spine and…he’s gone have to stick that one in his back pocket to explore at a later date, for sure.

“Six months?”

Jeff—and Steve kinda likes Jeff, and not for the reason his bandmates would like, that he kicks around Hawkins after graduation, too, but more because Steve knows why; that’s to make more money for a college outside Indiana, and Steve thinks that’s fucking cool—but it’s here where Jeff dips fully away from being angry to being stupefied. Steve lets himself smirk at nothing because fuck yes: him and Eddie.

Six whole goddamn months.

“I was actually gonna ask you guys to come over soon, introduce him properly and stuff,” Eddie says, the disappointment in his voice again; Steve’s niggling desire to go and hug him from behind, maybe kiss under his ear a little, back in full force.

“He picks you up from practice, we see him,” Doug pipes back up, likewise confused, but Steve just takes the useful confirmation that no one did catch on that he pulled up ages ago, now.

“We know who Steve Harrington is—” Gareth snaps, protests in the way that betrays his eye-rolling, his thin-wearing patience.

“No!”

And that comes out of Eddie fierce enough to echo down at least half the block they’re on—seems like Eddie’s patience was worn out a while ago.

“You don’t!”

And everyone is silent in that way Steve knows all too well: when shit’a gone down but now you’re waiting in the edge for the worse thing to hit.

Then it does:

“And it’s a good thing I didn’t bring it up because you dipshits aren’t ready,” Eddie snaps, says dipshitso different from how he does with the Party, theirParty, their kids; he says it here with something real fucking close to disgust.

“Asking hostage questions, fuck off,” he huffs, and Steve hears Eddie’s footsteps, can’t tell if he’s gonna leave it at that, come find Steve and know he’s been standing there but that’ll be fine, it’s not like Steve wasn’t going to let him know as soon as they left—but then:

“Look,” and Eddie sounds the way Steve sounds when he’s pinching the bridge of his nose to fight a growing migraine, the sting of tears for all sorts of pain behind his eyes, and that hurts to hear from his boyfriend, like, a lot.

It fucking hurts.

“I am not just fucking him,” Eddie growls through the bridge-pinching pain; “I mean, fuck yes, I am, but,” and Steve hears the way he swallows all the way down the drive:

“I’m in this for the long haul,” Eddie tells his bandmates like throwing down a gauntlet; “and if you can’t respect me enough, and my choices, that stings,” Steve knows Eddie shrugs then: “but I’ll live.”

Steve’s about a millisecond from saying fuck it, opening the door just to slam it to announce his approach, and then going to physically grab his boyfriend, drag him to the car, and park in the abandoned lot down from the Wheelers’ neighborhood to kiss him senseless because that’s the closest place he can think of and he doesn’t think he’ll make it to either of their homes before he can’t fucking handle himself.

“But if you are gonna disrespect the man I love, no. Absolutely not.”

Eddies voice is a deadly sort of whisper. Steve would cower at it, the way it washes through a person, if he hadn’t just…said.

That.

“You love him?”

And for what Steve thinks is the first time since he climbed out of the car and committed to listening where he wasn’t invited, Gareth sounds…muted. Genuinely asking a question.

Steve, for his own part, kinda expected that he’d be more breathless, heart racing and shit, to hear the answer but in reality?

“Of course I love him.”

Steve already knew that in his cells, in his bones.

In his steady, not all-that-fast but particularly-especially-happily beating heart.

“Have you guys, like, said it and stuff?”

And of course Steve already knows that answer, both the literal one and the one that matters more, but he does perk up a bit, curious to hear what—if anything of note—Eddie chooses to give away here.

“He has,” Eddie says, and now…now maybe Steve should stop listening because this part, the way Eddie says that as flat fact—Steve doesn’t knowthis part beyond speculation. But…

“I wanted to, like,” and eddies voice can’t hide the way he’s gotta have that soft smile, the one he used to hide behind his hair before Steve started pulling it back to see in full, so now he only brings his hair out just to tease, to okay.

“I don’t think I’ve wanted much in my whole life, but he’s,” and Steve thinks he hears how Eddie chews his bottom lip for a second, in the subtlest click of how it slips free before Eddie takes a deep breath and—

“He doesn’t know what he’s worth,” Eddie starts, a little mournful almost, even, and Steve is unexpectedly glued to the spot in his fucking Nikes.

“He doesn’t understand that I’d sell the sun and the moon just to keep him,” Eddie’s saying, and with passion. With whole-ass honesty. And here, maybe, is where Steve gets to have some of the heart:fluttery feeling after all:

“He comes out the gate with the whole you don’t have to say it back and I just,” Eddie sighs, sniffs a little before heaving another breath deep enough to stretch his shirt, which Steve’s not imagining or anything, at all;

“I couldn’t say it, not right then, and risk him everthinking it was something I’d done to like, match. Like that I didn’t mean it with everything I’ve got, when I mean it with everything I’ve got and then also everything else. Like, anywhere. Ever.”

Steve realized he’d stopped breathing at some point when the little dots start floating in front of his eyes and he sucks in a shaking breath because: he’s known Eddie loves him. Unshakeably.

But, but all this—

“I couldn’t say it and have him ever wondered if I wouldn’t rip my heart out of my chest just to keep his safe.”

And of-fucking-course Steve’s pulse is running fucking riot about how much he’s in love right now, make no goddamn mistake. Jesus, he—

“Fuck.”

And Steve has never heard Gareth Emerson pushed just this side of speechless but: that’s the best way Steve can describe the kind of breathless wonder he says it with, like watching a rare bird take flight.

“You mean it.”

And Steve can pick out Eddie’s huffs and categorize them, on demand at this point: he doesn’t need to see the eye-roll to know Eddie’s deemed the expression of pure shock to be so beneath him in this specific context that he’s deemed it unworthy of any more attention.

His heart’s not jumping that loud to have missed it. So.

Steve just kinda grins toward the blacktop under his shoes.

“Why didn’t you,” Doug starts, still—usually, really, in Steve’s limited experience at least—the peacekeeper, the one who’s most invested at the human level when he’s not getting swept up in whatever the rest of the gang has deemed the cool thing to laugh at or make fun of at any given moment.

The huff Eddie gives this time is his incredulous one, which allows for just the slightest bit more consideration:

“The fuck do you think?”

The slightest bit, being the operative point.

“I’d hoped you’d take it better but,” Eddie adds, and there’s less drama in it than Steve might have expected. He’s being serious with them, and he sounds…disappointed.

Steve kinda want to make some kind of noise, give away his position, and just…hug Eddie tight from behind, if nothing else. Be there. Solid against him, wrapped up around him. Never wavering. Always at his back as much as at his side.

But Eddie’s not done:

“I’m not even asking you to like him, just be decent,” and it sounds like it hurts him to say as much, and Steve knows why; he genuinely despises when anyone thinks Lea with a the very beat thing about Steve. Steve believes this to be n unreasonable standard, and has expressed as much to Eddie who nods and smiles and kisses Steve’s forehead and does absolutely nothing to change his stance, but deep down?

Steve fucking feels so…loved for it.

“And like I said,” Steve can hear the judgement in Eddie’s tone clear as day; “you’re not ready, and I’m not putting him in that kind of situation.”

Steve sucks on the inside of his cheek, lest his grin at the way Eddie is not just defending him, but…protecting him, not his honor but his heart…

No ones ever even tried that before. Steve may not need it, or maybe he just learned he couldn’t survive needing it.

Getting it now…now it’s just…

Wow.

“And I’m in this for keeps, like, this is a forever type thing, so long as he wants it,” Eddie saying, explaining the color of a sky to a small child like what these words are that fundamental, that unalterably true. “So—”

“We’ve known each other forever, man,” Gareth eventually mutters, sounds indignant, but mostly gutted.

Steve knows before it happens that it’s not gonna make a difference.

“And we can still know each other. Just not everything, anymore,” and Eddie does sound a little sad but he’s…he’s a monolith, unshakable. “I don’t trust you with the parts that revolve around him, yet,” and Steve feels more than hears the ways his friends deflate, maybe shrink for being deemed so…insufficient. In the eyes of their ostensible leader, no less.

“Eddie, we didn’t,” Jeff starts, slow, and he doesn’t sound remorseful but—Eddie has all those coping mechanisms for a reason, right?

Because he’s quick to feeling, good and bad, and sometimes neither is fit to the moment.

Steve can’t help but be kinda glad Eddie doesn’t bother with those mechanisms just now, though, if it means he gets to hear this part:

“I know you didn’t, that’s the fucking problem,” Eddie groans, Steve can see the way he lens, bends at the knees and throws his body around a little in sheer, undiluted exasperation. “

“Because I could tell you he’s changed since school, and that’d be true, but that’s not even it,” and there’s more of the frustrated stomping round, Steve can hear it, but he’s…he’s ready distracted by that thing in his chest that has to has to be tied up in Eddie’s, too, that thing tugging on him to pay the fuck attention.

And who is he to ignore it?

“he was never who we thought he was in school in the first place. He is,” Eddie licks his lips, just to snack them loud:

“He is kind and funny, and goofy, and such a fuckin’ nerd, and he’s smart in these incredible ways where he’s sees what everyone else misses, and he’s protective as fuck and he’s got a heart of gold,” and Eddie’s voice only gets more heartfelt in its own right that longer he goes and Steve just, he’s, it’s—

“And I would tear my skin off just so it doesn’t get so much as a scuff on it,” Eddie ends with the most scathing delivery imaginable: he fucking meansthis shit. And Steve is going o live and die next to this man, scuffed heart still kept safe to the fucking end, he will swear that shit to anyone who needs to hear it.

He is going to have a whole fucking life with Eddie Munson, and love him for every single breath of it.

“And I don’t trust you guys yet not to tempt me to tear off my skin,” Eddie says finally after enough silence to catch his breath, and temper his tone just enough to sound tired; a little dejected. “I don’t trust you with him, and until that changes, we’re still friends,” Eddie sniffs, breathes out long; “you just won’t get to know about that part of me.”

He says it so simple, like he’s not half-cutting off some of the longest, closest friendships he’s ever had, and for Steve.

Steve doesn’t know if it makes him a person, or a really selfish one or whatever, if he doesn’t feel any urge to talk Eddie down, to make him walk it back just a little.

He doesn’t think he cares, though, either way.

“Seems like a really big part of you,” Doug says, deflated entirely.

“It is,” Eddie answers, unapologetic in a way that swells and sparkles in Steve’s ribs. “He is.”

“You’d walk from the band?” Of course Gareth asks, but it’s the first time he sounds small in his words. Like he maybe knows the answer, and isn’t so okay with how he got around to it even before Eddie wishes all doubt:

“In half a fuckin’ heartbeat.” Boom. Done. No hesitation whatsoever.

Less than half-a-fuckin’-heartbeat.

“That’s not what I’m saying I’m doing right now, but,” Eddie laughs a little, and that probably cuts deeper than anything for the boys, Steve suspects, especially when Eddie makes it unquestionable:

“It’s not even a question.”

And…maybe that drives a knife deeper for the band, but for Steve?

Steve kinda wants to…giggle, or some shit. He hadn’t realized just how much he wanted someone who answered a question like that, exactly like that, who talked about Steve exactly like that, without anything to gain, just because they…believed it.

“Jesus,” Gareth mutters, sounds kinda blindsided, kinda thrown and then some.

“If we,” Jeff clears his throat after a long period of quiet; “if we do better, could we meet him someday?” And the way he says it, earnest and shit:, like he wants to at least think about, at least maybe try:

“Like, really meet him?”

Like Eddie means enough that he’ll try, and that sings sweet in Steve’s veins because goddamn straight, his Eddie deserves that from the people hecares about. No matter who or what Steve is, Eddiedeserves that much, and so much more.

But he sounds like even just this is something amazing, Steve can hear the smile in his voice:

“Yeah, man,” he answers Jeff, claps him audibly on the shoulder; “I look forward to it.”

And shit, y’know what?

So does Steve.

“See you in two weeks,” and Eddies footsteps follow, guitar slung over his back for the way his weight falls with each one, but then:

“Eddie!”

That’s Doug; the footsteps stop close to the edge of the garage door as another set rushes to catch up, where he’ll see Steve if he walks much farther, where Steve’s got his hand on the door handle of the car, slowly inching it open to push shut and look wholly-unsuspicious now that Eddie might be followed out to his ride:

“Get him flowers. For your anniversary,” Doug says, tone low like a secret; “I know, like, it might seem like guys wouldn’t want flowers, but,” and Steve actually has to strain to hear the next part:

“My mom gets my dad flowers on his birthday every year, and he lights up like the Fourth of July.”

Steve remembers the first time he ever got flowers. His favorites, even if he thinks he only knew it subconsciously because they were handed to him with the stammering explanation of I don’t even know if you like flowers, or like these ones, but you look at them when we’re out, like, just walking or something and your eyes linger, and these ones just remind me of you and—

Apparently, Steve loves hyacinths. And sunflowers make Eddie think of him.

Because of course Steve’s first gift of flowers came from Eddie.

“Thanks man,” Eddie sounds the lightest, most genuine Steve’s heard him since he pulled up and got out of the car; “they’re already ordered.”

And Doug chuckles, and Steve?

Steve bites down his smile to less exploding-star levels—if he’d just pulled up he doesn’t have a reason, save that Eddie is enough of a reason in Steve’s eyes, his mind, the way his chest expands just thinking on him—as he pulls the car door closed again, loud enough to be noticed.

For Eddie to walk out of the garage fast as anything and meet Steve with a smile of his own that justifies the fuck out of where Steve’s had started, anyway.

All star-bright and everything.

♥️🎸♥️

✨also on ao3✨

btw this is either titled ‘halcyon shoegazing’ or ‘heart in your shoes’ so if you have an opinion you should maybe tell me or something, my brain’s tired and is resisting decisions rn

✨permanent tag list: OPEN (lmk if you want to be added/removed): @ajeff855 @askitwithflours @awkwardgravity1 @bookworm0690 @bumblebeecuttlefishes @captain--low @depressed-freak13 @dragoon-ze-great @dreamercec @dreamwatch @dreamy-jeans137 @estrellami-1 @goodolefashionedloverboi @grtwdsmwhr @gunsknivesandplaid @hiei-harringtonmunson @hbyrde36 @imhereforthelolzdontyellatme @kimsnooks @live-laugh-love-dietrich @mensch-anthropos-human @nerdyglassescheeseychick @notaqueenakhaleesi @ollyxar @pearynice @perseus-notjackson @pretend-theres-a-name-here

divider credit here and here and here

[talisidekick]

Someone tagged this with the following and I actually want to talk about this:

This isn't the first response like this. I've had comments, asks, tags like this one, reblogs, and even comments on other platforms where this has spread to that bring up racism and xenophobia. Whether thats accusing me of being racist or hating immigrants (despite coming from a family if immigrants) or just pointing out, like this person did, the inherent xenophobic attitude the world has for my pharmacist to want to change his first name to an English sounding name. And it gets worse, I was given an English name at birth because my mother wanted me to "have a name that fit in". They weren't English, my last name was German, my great-grandmother who was a pillar in the family used German and Norweigan words mixed in her English that carried into my life and still does to this day. And because I wasn't "English", I still got picked on at school to the point I filtered out the german/norweigan in my vocabulary and learned to mimick accents to remove any germanic lilt I had in my speech.

Point being, I made this post recognizing the inherent xenophobia present. That's one of the reasons I told my pharmacist he didn't need to do that for my sake. I kind of suspected he wasn't just being kind. The way he said it had intent. The next time I saw him, nametag out, proud, it was touching to see the name I was given to protect me from xenophobia going to protect someone else, but also a bit bitter that I know part of the reason for wanting to find an English name was the pressure to blend in and sidestep a LOT of bullshit.

My name now is Germanic, my middle name Italian, my last name Ukrainian, and my nickname I use everywhere to make peoples lives easier is Talia or Tali <- To which I've learned "Tali" is a common short-hand/nickname or name for some in the middle-east (I didn't know, I just mashed up my middle name with my childhood nickname 'T' to get it so my friends would have an easier time transitioning over to my new name and it stuck. I just recently found out from a co-worker who just got back from a trip to the middle east and asked me about it). I'm no longer side-stepping the bullshit, I have noticed a difference in treatment. If people don't know me, and haven't seen me, like when it's over the phone or in email, it takes much longer and I have to be more precise with my wording. In fact, I've noticed it a bit when in person too. Next to my English named co-workers, I am treated by some like I know less and I'm scruitinized a bit more. Now obviously if I was a woman of colour and not off-white canvas, this would be 10-times worse in ways I'm not qualified or experienced to explain or get into. I'll leave that to someone WITH that kind of experience to get into.

I've never mentioned whether my pharmacist is a coloured man or not, and I never will. It's not that it "doesn't matter", every aspect of that man shapes his existence and experience of this life. I'm just not clarifying because the moment I do, I know some of you are going to solely focus on his race and miss the nuance of everything this post is about. It's about transgender positivity, discrimination, humour, and the kind-hearted actions of an incredible man in his journey of immigration. By leaving him faceless, every one of you brings something of yourself to this post. Be it simple joy, or further commentary.

The person who tagged this post is one of many who've accurately pointed out one underlying truth about this post. Not everyone is treated equally in society. This happened in Canada. Do you begin to understand the depths this post goes to with all that I've said here? With what you now know about me? Because I think some of you should now re-read the post again.

A while back my pharmacist saw my deadname on my profile and accidentially called it out, he corrected and deleted my deadname from the system so only my preferred name shows up now. There was a crowd of people behind me, so as he hands over the pills he apologized, in equal tone and volume as when he called my deadname and lied saying it's been a long day and he didn't mean to call out -his own- name. I quietly told him it was fine and he didn't need to do that for my sake.

His response: "No, it's my name now."

I went to the pharmacist yesterday, his nametag is my deadname. He informed me he's immigrating and in the process he's changed his first name to my deadname to have an English sounding name. That's why he's now able to get a reprint of his nametag to be my deadname. And repeated, with the intense seriousness of someone who is going to die on this hill: "It's mine now. Not yours. I'm taking." His tone indicated that decision is final.

Bro literally deadnamed me once, and has committed to flat out stealing my deadname. It's his now. Legally. Officially. I over heard his co-workers call him by the name.

[cheapshrimpysheep]

True Feelings Chocolate - OB Students

SUMMARY: It is normal on Valentine's Day for friends or schoolmates to exchange chocolates with each other. However, the quality of the chocolate reveals how the person really sees you. And homemade chocolate is the greatest message of love that someone can receive on this day.

CHARACTERS: Overblot Students (Riddle Rosehearts / Leona Kingscholar / Azul Ashengrotto / Jamil Viper / Vil Schoenheit / Idia Shroud / Malleus Draconia) x Yuu (Reader)

TAGS: Fluff; GN Reader; Kiss

WORD COUNT: An average of 1.280 words per character.

COMMENTS: The number of words varies depending on how much the character is the type to hide his true feelings.

I also would like to be able to write more eloquent lines for characters like Malleus, but as English is not my first language this becomes a bit difficult sometimes.

(and yes, I'm thinking about doing this with other characters, maybe the freshmen, if a lot of people like and reblog this post.)

I hope you enjoy and Happy Valentine's Day 💝

REAL WORLD CONTEXT: You may already know this, but Valentine's Day in Japan is different than in Western countries. In Japan (from what I know and have researched) this day is not exclusively related to romantic love but also to friendship or simple connections between schoolmates or work colleagues.

Just like in the West, it is marked by the gifting of chocolate, but the quality of the chocolate differs: If it's a boss or colleague you're not friends with, they're usually cheaper, more common chocolates. The quality and even price of the chocolate increases according to the relationship with the person to whom it is offered. And a chocolate made by the person themselves is the most valuable of all and is usually, from what I understand, almost like a confession of love.

On Valentine's Day, it is women who offer chocolates to men, but in this case I just kept the logic of chocolates and excluded the gender thing.

Another thing is that since it is normal to give chocolates to friends as well, it becomes more discreet to give more special chocolates to a certain person and it doesn't draw attention to simply give chocolate to someone.

NOTE: Thaumarks would be the equivalent of US dollars.

The rules are clear: the quality of the chocolate represents the quality and importance of the relationship between the giver and the person to whom it is given. And a chocolate made by the giver is the most valuable of all. Which meant he could buy chocolates for his schoolmates, but not for you!

According to the rules and analyzing what he felt for you, your chocolate MUST be made by him and it had to be perfect! Or as close to perfection as he could get.

He has no shame, nor does he think twice before asking Trey for help. He had that smile of someone who wants to mess with him a little the entire time, but knows that wouldn't be a good idea... Okay, maybe just a little comment to see how he would react.

“So... homemade chocolate for (Y/N).” He said as they waited for the chocolate to melt and Riddle prepared the molds.

Riddle continued with what he was doing, but he had blushed a little.

“Those are the rules.” he replies. "The quality of the chocolate should represent how the giver sees the person to whom it is given.”

“I know. I just never thought I'd see you making this kind of chocolate so soon.”

Riddle did not respond, probably because he thought the same thing.

What Riddle didn't know, because it was supposed to be a surprise too, was that you were also making chocolates for him. You made chocolate dipped strawberries. Knowing that Strawberry Tarts are his favorite food, this seemed like the best choice for Valentine's Day chocolates. Once they were ready, you placed them in a red box that you had bought at Sam's Mystery Shop and finished by tying the box with a bow.

The next day, Valentine's Day, you are preparing the boxes of chocolates to give to the Heartslabyul boys when there is a knock on your door. You open it and find Riddle with his hands behind his back.

“Good morning, (Y/N). I believe you know what day it is today.”

You confirm and say that you were just preparing the chocolates to take to his dorm.

“Oh, that's a coincidence. Because I came here to offer you mine too.” He takes his hand from behind his back revealing a beautiful heart-shaped box with golden designs. “And...” in the other, a small bouquet of roses. He's blushing just a little bit

You take the box and the bouquet, and Riddle smiles when he sees your reaction. But before you open it, you remember and go to the bag where your chocolates were and take out his box and offer it to him. He wasn't surprised that you gave him chocolates, but he was a little when he saw that the box wasn't from any brand. You also take the opportunity to place the roses on the entrance table so you can open the box.

When you take the lid off you see several heart shaped chocolates with your favorite toppings, however, some of the hearts were a little bit crooked and some of the designs on the hearts seemed to have gone slightly wrong. You ask if he made them, unable to contain a small chuckle.

“Y-yes.” he sulks a little seeing you laugh. “I picked the ones that looked best... the first ones burned.”

You taste one of them and feel your favorite filling on your tongue. You say it's very good and Riddle can't contain that sweet smile of his.

“Truly? I... I am so glad!”

And then he remembers the box you gave him. He opens it and sees the chocolate covered strawberries. You say that since he liked strawberry tart so much you thought he would like them. He looks at the strawberries with a sparkle in his eyes, picks one up and tastes it before giving you a cute smile again.

“It's incredible how something so simple can taste so good.” he tells you “So... were they made by you too?” You confirm, but then he asks: “You... did you also make chocolates for the others?” he seemed ashamed to ask that.

You say no, that those were the only ones you made, all the others were bought.

“Really?!” he says smiling, but then immediately clears his throat to assume his usual posture again.

However, he realized what it means, that you felt the same way about him as he felt about you, and it made him chuckle. He holds your free hand, while the other still holds the box of chocolates, gets closer to you and kisses your cheek gently.

“You said you were preparing to go to Heartslabyul.” He tells you with a tender look, as if he can finally look at you the way he wants and you deserve. “Allow me to escort you there then. And I insist on helping you carry the boxes.”

He will take you to Heartslabyul with your arm intertwined with his like a gentleman, while his other arm carries the bag with the chocolates that you will offer to your friends.

Ace and Deuce will argue and compete because they both bought you the exact same box of chocolates that were your favorite. Cater bought you the cutest chocolates he could find and wanted to take a picture of the two boxes together, the one you gave him and the one he gave you. Trey says he wished he had made the chocolates himself but, you know, rules and possible misunderstandings to be avoided, so he ended up buying some chocolates that he also liked as a sort of sharing of favorites.

Regardless of whether you would get chocolates back or not, you bought chocolates for Jack and Ruggie, and you wanted to follow the "rules" and make the chocolates for Leona yourself. But what chocolate would he like? He loves meat, but this doesn't help much. Or maybe it does... you search on the internet for chocolates for meat lovers and see what you can find.

But you didn't find anything, or at least nothing that didn't also involve wine. However, you noticed that dark chocolate was the most used, if not the only one, so you decided to use it and make the famous, perhaps even cliché, heart-shaped chocolates. Once they're done, you put them in the yellow box you bought at the Mystery Shop.

On Valentine's Day, you prepare everything to go deliver the chocolates to Savanaclaw.

Of course Jack also bought you chocolates, your favorite ones by the way. He struggled to keep his tail still when he saw how happy you were and the chocolates you gave him.

Ruggie seemed... struggling to give you the chocolates he had bought for you. He would have liked to have bought the cheaper chocolate, but he didn't want to give you a chocolate that meant you were nothing to him. So he had to spend a little more money and that was what was hurting him. However, his pain was eased by your chocolates.

Leona wasn't with them, so he could only be in his room. You go there and knock on the door.

“What?” You hear Leona's voice on the other side.

You open the door and enter his room. It's no surprise to see him lying in bed as if he had just woken up from a nap. He looks at you with his hands behind his head and smirks.

“Oh, yeah, did you come here to deliver your friendship sweets?” he says mockingly.

“Actually, yes.” you answer, walk towards him and stretch out your arm, handing him the yellow box. “This one is for you.”

He glances sideways at the box for a second, but then lifts his torso and sits up on the bed. He picks up the box and opens it to find dark chocolate hearts. You tell him that you tried to find some kind of recipe with meat but didn't find much. However it seemed like dark chocolate was the best one to pair with meat so that's why you chose it.

“So, you're saying that you did these little things?” Leona picks up one of the chocolates with a smug grin on his face. “Let's see how you did then. I must remind you that my palate is quite delicate.” He takes a bite and seems to enjoy the chocolate, but doesn't say anything.

Instead, he puts the box on the bed, gets up and seems to walk away from you. But then you notice that he's walking over to a chair in the corner of the room covered in clothes. He lazily removes one of the pieces of clothing from the seat and reaches for the white box that was hidden underneath. He comes back and hands you the box.

“Good enough. Here's your prize.”

You take the box and look at it. It’s white with gold details, texture and embossing. It's also relatively heavy for a box of chocolate, and thick. You don't even recognize that brand. Leona laugh at your reaction.

“You've definitely never seen one of these.”

You can't open the box with only one hand, you had to put it on Leona's bed to be able to open it with both hands. He complained like you expected him to, but then he just sat there watching you open the box and see what was inside, while eating more of your chocolates like they were snacks.

You open it, and inside the white box there is a wooden box. You remove the wooden box and see another wooden thing, like a square plate, with a kind of small wooden tongs. Leona is amused by your reaction. You took this out of the white box too, underneath is a booklet, and underneath that, there's a brochure. And after that there finally seems to be nothing left to take out.

“If you're wondering which one is the chocolate, it's the wooden box.” He points to the first thing you took out of the box and take another chocolate of yours to eat.

You pick up the wooden box with a little golden square on the lid and opens it. You pick up a large square wrapped in gold paper. At the bottom of the box, in a smaller diamond-shaped hole with a single cocoa bean.

“That is chocolate.” Leona casually pointed to the large square wrapped in gold paper.

You decide to see what that wooden thing with the tongs was before that. You pick it up, take the tongs off the top and remove the paper it was holding, revealing a gold square with engravings and what looks like a wooden frame around it. You read the title on the sheet of paper: “Testing utensil and plate.” And realizes that these are basically instructions on how to taste the chocolate using tongs and putting it on the golden plate.

You finally decide to search for those chocolates on the internet and you only had to type the name of the brand to see that the first result was: ‘The most expensive chocolate in Twisted Wonderland’. You found that same box and discovered that it cost almost 500 thaumarks. Leona just laughs at your shocked face.

Before you could say anything, maybe even say that you couldn't accept a chocolate like that, Leona takes the golden square and unwraps it, revealing the chocolate, which by the color seems to be your favorite. He breaks one of the triangles that formed the square and places it in front of your lips.

“Go on.” He smirks. “Open your mouth and say what you wanted to say.”

You open your mouth, but instead of talking you take a bite of the chocolate, as he wanted you to do. And it's incredible! He puts the rest of that piece of chocolate on top of the golden plate.

Knowing that the handmade chocolates were an “I love you” message, Leona felt completely confident in doing what he did next. As you were standing, he also stood up, put one of his hands on your waist and pulled you against him to kiss you.

You already kind of knew that it was possible to receive some kind of chocolate from Azul. This tradition can also be seen as a way of strengthening ties or showing respect for colleagues. He would not miss the opportunity to be “generous” to certain people whom he may or may not have selected as people of interest.

But no matter what kind of chocolate he would give you, you wanted to follow the rules and make yourself his chocolate.

You weren't sure which type of chocolate he would like best, so you decided to make a few of each, some dark chocolate, some milk chocolate, and some white chocolate. ‘By chance’, Sam had some molds for sale that you could use to make chocolates in sea-themed shapes like shells, seahorses, starfish, crabs, etc. One of the molds was even of a cute little octopus. You also bought a beautiful lavender box to put the chocolates in.

The next day, Valentine's Day, you were preparing the chocolates to give to the Octavinelle boys when someone knocked on your door.

“Good morning, (Y/N).” Azul greets you with his charming smile and his hands behind his back. “Were you getting ready to go out? I hope I'm not taking up too much of your time. I'm sure you have a lot of chocolates to deliver today, knowing how many acquaintances you've made at this school. But let me be the first to present you.” He takes his hands from behind his back revealing a beautiful lavender box with the Mostro Lounge logo in silver.

He must have prepared several boxes of that for his... acquaintances (clients) as well. But you accept the box anyway and take the opportunity to give him yours. Azul doesn't seem too surprised that you give him chocolates too, but he is when he sees that there is no brand on the box. You open your boxes at the same time to see... the same chocolates, the exact same shapes.

“Have you also-” You two start saying at the same time and then stop when you realize you're talking over each other.

“The molds in Sam's mystery shop.” Azul continued with a sweet tone. “You bought them too. So... that means...”

“These chocolates.” You say. “Were they made by you?”

“Yes, they were!” He smiles proudly. “Please, go ahead to taste them. Tell me what you think.”

You can see he used your favorite type of chocolate. You pick up one of the chocolates, take a bite and discover that it has your favorite filling. He can see that you loved it by your face, but he wants to hear your words and you only increase his pride with them.

You then ask him to try your chocolates. You confess that you didn't really know which one would be his favorite so you made some of each type. This makes him chuckle.

“Don't worry, they all look delicious. Let's see if the same applies to the taste, shall we?” He smirks before taking one of the chocolates to his mouth and biting into it.

He looked surprisingly intrigued and you didn't know what that meant. So you ask him if there's something wrong with the chocolates.

“No, that's not it. Your chocolates are very simple, without any special filling or anything that improves the original flavor of the ready-made chocolate. So why...? Why does it taste so good if it's nothing special? Did you use something that my taste buds aren't detecting?”

It was wierd, Azul almost seemed insulted, like you were tricking him somehow. Or like he wanted to figure out the logical explanation for that flavor. You say you only followed a recipe and seeing that he seemed dissatisfied with this explanation you say that people say that something made with love tastes better.

“Don't be ridiculous." He says despite starting to blush a little. “Feelings do not change a well-made recipe or a cook's skills. It might make them lazier and less willing to do things properly." he says, clearly thinking of a certain someone. "But it doesn't suddenly make someone an extraordinary cook. That's not how it works. It doesn't make sense."

And then his subtle indignation gives way to a quite seductive smile.

“Maybe I should see how you do them to find out your secret. And in return, I can teach you how to make the fillings and stuff them. What do you think? Cooking together and teaching each other.” He gets closer to you and tilts your head with a gentle finger on your chin. “Doesn't that sound like a good deal, my dear?”

After this you tell him that you were preparing to go to Octavinelle to offer him, Jade and Floyd the chocolates. There was still the boxes to be delivered to the twins.

“Oh, I wonder what you got for them.”

You say that for Jade you found some mushroom-shaped chocolates and for Floyd you bought some that said they all had different flavors but didn't say which ones, you realized that it was one of those sweets that you only find out if you were lucky or not with the flavor after tasting it.

Azul's mood seemed to improve when you said you had bought the chocolates and not made them. He also highlighted your excellent ability to choose gifts and added that you could be an excellent... business colleague. He liked the idea of a special personal assistant. He will accompany you to Octavinelle and insist on carrying him your gifts.

Jade loved the chocolates you chose for him, although it's hard to be sure even with all those smooth talking praises. For you, he asked his parents to send him some special Coral Sea chocolates. Azul asks you to examine that box and doesn't even hide his distrust towards Jade, who appears theatrically sad. He recognizes those chocolates with the box still sealed and knows that there is nothing wrong with those, so he returns them to you with more peace of mind.

Floyd was a little put off at first because the chocolates looked boring, but he soon became interested when you told him about the surprise flavors. He tried one that he said tasted like octopus and started laughing with great amusement. For you he bought shrimp-shaped chocolates and commented something about finding it funny to see it as a kind of cannibalism.

Kalim would definitely give you chocolates, but you had no way of knowing if Jamil would do the same. You already know how reluctant he is to call someone a friend, let alone give someone chocolates, that is not out of pure politeness, on a day like Valentine's. But either way you wanted to follow the rules and offer him chocolates made by you.

You weren't sure which type of chocolate he would like best, so you decided to make a few of each, some dark chocolate, some milk chocolate, and some white chocolate. But you didn't want to make just boring chocolate hearts. However, you didn't know if there was any filling he liked with the chocolates, so at Sam's Mystery Shop you try to find at least pretty molds. And you found heart molds with beautiful line art. That, and a pretty dark red box with a golden bow.

The next day, Valentine's Day, you were preparing the boxes of chocolates to take to the Scarabia boys, but they were faster than you.

“GOOD MORNING (Y/N)!” Kalim greets you enthusiastically when you open the door after hearing the knock on it. “Happy Valentine's Day!” He stretches out his arms with a huge smile and a huge basket of chocolates. It even had a heart-shaped balloon tied to it.

You need both hands to pick up the basket. You try to tell him that he didn't need to offer you so much, in fact he didn't need to offer you anything, but all that...

“Don't worry. I love giving gifts to my friends! And it's okay if you can't eat them all before the expiration date, I'm sure Grim can help you with that. There's enough for both of you in there. Hahaha.”

“Or at least we hope it's enough for both of you.” Jamil comments behind him. “Be careful Grim doesn't steal them all from you. And I'm sure Kalim would love to spend a little more time with you, but he has to go deliver the rest chocolates.” He frowns wearily and helplessly.

You can only imagine how many chocolates someone who treats practically everyone as a friend has to give away. But you ask them to wait just one more minute. You put the basket on the table in the hallway, take the one of the chocolate boxes you were preparing to take with you and hand it to Kalim.

Just like the chocolates he gave you, yours were also bought, except the brand you bought was much cheaper. But none of that mattered to Kalim, he was thrilled just because you gave him chocolate at all. But then he remembers and looks back at Jamil.

“We’ll open them in the dorm.” Jamil says. “I'll just try one and you can eat the rest. I know (Y/N) is trustworthy.”

Kalim celebrates and thanks him for allowing him to eat the chocolates. You wait for them to turn their backs to call Jamil in a whisper that you knew he would hear and Kalim wouldn't. He turns as Kalim walks to the gate and you hand him the dark red box with the golden bow. He looks at the box in surprise, glances at Kalim and thought quickly. He takes the box and says: “I'll text you.” before he turns and walks towards Kalim with your box in his hands.

If you had given him that box while Kalim was looking, he would have been super curious and happy for Jamil, maybe even started saying that he should offer you a box too and ask about it. And you knew how much Jamil liked to be discreet and not draw Kalim's attention to his affairs.

You had time to go to all the other dorms and deliver your friendship chocolates before he sent you the messages:

“I'm sorry I didn't thank you for the chocolates when you gave them to me. We only just finished delivering Kalim's chocolates, and he went to the Pop Music Club. I wanted to ask you if there would be a possibility of you passing through Scarabia today? I would like to thank you properly.”

You say you can and he asks if it can be in an hour. You don't ask him why, even though you're asking that to yourself, but you say yes and the meeting is set.

At the agreed time you go to Scarabia and you don't even need to tell Jamil that you have arrived, he is already at the doors of the main building waiting for you. And as if that wasn't enough of a surprise, when you approach him he holds out his hand for you to place yours on top and he kisses the back of your hand. He has a charmingly confident smile on his face. He leads you like a gentleman through the dorm hallways.

“I apologize again for being so curt with you when you gave me the box.” He says as you walk with one of your arms intertwined with his. “You truly caught me off guard. I wanted to thank you at that moment, but I was so much more focused on being quick so that Kalim wouldn't... you know... intrude.” That was the least rude way of saying what he really wanted to say.

You ask him what happened after you gave him the chocolates. The box wasn't small, he wouldn't have been able to hide it from Kalim.

“What I expected.” he sighed. “Kalim started making questions right away. But don't worry, you made the right decision by handing me the box when he wasn't looking. I hope he didn't bother you about it though.”

No, Kalim didn't text or call you after that. Jamil discreetly whispered a "excellent" with a somewhat sinister smile. You ask him if he liked the chocolates and tell him that, since you didn't know which was his favorite chocolate, you decided to use them all. He gives you a slight smile.

“I can appreciate them all. When they're done well.” he smirked. “The shape was nice, probably because of the molds you used. The taste... was good enough.”

You look at him a little sadly, or maybe a little sullenly. He laughs.

“They were good.” he says more gently. “But I think you can do better.” The smug smile returns. “Maybe if I teach you a few things? Or if we cook together? I wouldn't mind that. I bet it would be... interesting to be your tutor.” He seems to like the idea, probably because of the hierarchy you would have (in addition to the one you already have).

You arrive at his room and he invites you to come in and sit on his bed.

“My roommate is also at a club meeting.” He explains, as he picks up a box, that didn't look like anything special, from his desk. “Here.” he gives you the box and sits next to you. “I thought about making you chocolates too.” He can't look you in the eyes and tries to hide the blush that was starting to appear on his cheeks. “But... I didn't want to give them to you without knowing... I made these when I got back to Scarabia, after Kalim had gone to the club meeting.” he points to the box on your lap. “I didn't have much time to get a nicer box, sorry.”

You open the box to find several heart-shaped chocolates made with your favorite type of chocolate. But the ones in the middle had letters that, the way they were arranged, formed the phrase “I love you too”.

“You bought the ones you gave to Kalim.” Jamil says, still reluctant to look you in the eyes. “And made the ones you gave me. That's what it means, isn't it? ...Try it.”

You do so and take one of the chocolate hearts, bite into it and discover that it has your favorite filling. As you expected, the flavor is divine and you say this to Jamil when he asks you what you thought of them.

“I haven't tried them yet after they're done. Can I steal one from you?”

You say yes, but instead of his hand going towards the box, it goes towards your face, holds your chin to turn your head towards him and he kisses you.

You knew you were screwed. Vil is demanding about everything and anything. But you also know he can still appreciate someone’s effort and dedication. Even if your chocolates don’t turn out perfectly, which is most likely the case, you know he’ll still be happy with your hard work and thoughtfulness.

Your real problems lie elsewhere: nutrition and healthy ingredients. Your best bet was dark chocolate, it’s the healthiest of all. But you couldn't just make boring plain chocolates, and making them in the shape of a heart wasn't enough. You search for healthy chocolate recipes for Valentine's Day and you find a recipe for dark chocolate with fruits and nuts.

It was a lot of work to remove the seeds from the kumquats, chop the almonds, dry the cherries and do everything as the recipe said, but eventually your heart-shaped chocolates with fruits and nuts were ready on time. You just had to buy the prettiest purple box you could find at Sam's Mystery Shop and a good red bow.

The next day, Valentine's Day, you took your chocolates to Pomefiore to deliver them.

Rook would be happy with any type of chocolate you give him. The simple fact that you give him a box or even just a bag on such a special day makes him beam with joy. And of course he also bought you a box of chocolates, your favorites, by the way. (Regardless of whether you told him which ones they were or not)

The best chocolates you can give Epel are the ones you know he likes but that Vil wouldn't let him eat. Even if Vil found out, it would be rude not to accept such a kind gift, so according to etiquette he would have to accept your gift. The two of you smile mischievously at each other. And yes, of course he also bought you chocolates. He asked his family to send special chocolates typical of Harveston just for you.

All that was left was to deliver the last box to Vil, but before you turned around to go to his room to see if he was there, he was kind enough to appear in the lounge at that moment. The way he walked towards you with his eyes fixed on you and that beautiful discreet smile made you feel like the most special person in the room.

You say he arrived just in time because you were about to go look for him, and you give him the pretty purple box with a red bow. He smiles in satisfaction and pick up the box.

“Well, I can't say I'm surprised to receive another box of chocolates today. And I see that this box is not of any brand. May I then assume that they were made by you?” His smile softens even more when you confirm, but even so he doesn't miss the opportunity to add a little smugness to it. “Well, let's see how you did then?”

Vil opens the box and is actually surprised by what he sees inside. He picks up one of the chocolate hearts and examines it.

“Dark chocolate.” He says in an approving tone. “I see almonds, dried cherries and... are those candied kumquats?” The fruits were what surprised him the most and he looks at you in such a neutrally curious way that you don't know whether he approved of those chocolates or not.

You tell him that you know how much he values his good nutrition, so you tried to find the healthiest Valentine's chocolate recipe, and that was the recipe you chose. You add that you followed the recipe to the letter as if defending yourself in case he doesn't like it, but at that moment you see his shoulders relax, the smile return and his eyes look at you with affection.

“You aren’t the first one to give me handmade chocolates.” he starts saying and looks at your chocolates in his hands. “But you are the first one who knows me well enough to know what I would actually like to receive. Except for Rook, but he's a strange exception. All the other boxes that arrived were of the sweetest and most caloric chocolates imaginable. I understand and appreciate the gesture but...” He looks back at you and gives you a small smile. “They don't really know me, do they?”

He takes a bite of your chocolate and looks serious about tasting it for seconds that feel like minutes to you. You ask how they are and if they taste good, he looks at you seriously and then starts laughing when he sees your worried face.

“I’m sorry, I just wanted to mess with you a little. I would like to say that these chocolates are quite good, but to do so I have to add that they are, for the skills of someone who is not a professional cook. I don't think I've ever tried this kind of sweets before. Could you give me the recipe?” and even eats the rest of the chocolate he has in his hand, with an expression of clear delight.

Your instinct tells you that something is going on behind you. You look over and see Epel slightly uncomfortable with the way Rook is looking at you and Vil as if he was watching the most wonderful and touching romantic play in the history of theater. He doesn't say a word as if a single syllable could ruin the moment, and he looks like he wants to burst into tears with emotion.

You feel a gentle hand on the small of your back, you turn your head again and see that it is Vil pulling you slightly to invite you to go with him.

“I can imagine the work it took you to remove the seeds from these kumquats and candied them. Such thoughtfulness and well done hard work deserves a proper reward. Don't you think?”

His gaze alternates between looking at you sweetly and looking at Rook in a subtly threatening way, as if warning him not to snoop around. The same look could be given to any other student who looked at you with the same nosy curiosity.

Vil invites you to go with him to a place, you follow him and you arrive at the door of his room. He looks haughtily at the corridor and sees that no one followed you, or if they did they would be left behind in that same corridor. He invites you in, saying that he also has something for you. After he closes the door behind him, he goes to his desk and picks up a small, beautiful, heart-shaped golden box to give you.

“Seeing me enjoying your chocolates was a spectacle and proof enough of your value to the public.” he says referring to the other Pomefiore students who were in the lounge. “They don't deserve to witness more.”

He makes a gesture encouraging you to open the box and you do so. There were few chocolates, at least compared to the ones you gave him, but not only were they beautifully decorated, they were also made from your favorite type of chocolate. Even if your favorite is the least healthy of all. You look at him in surprise.

“Don't get used to it.” he warns you, raising a finger. “I did less on purpose so as not to be so detrimental to your nutrition.” he pokes your nose gently “This is a rare exception, you hear?”

Even though you know what his answer would be, you ask if he was the one who made them.

“Yes, they look astonishing professional, don't they?” He smiled with the greatest pride, before returning to his regular speech. “I also thought about preparing something nutritious, until I thought about what you would like to receive and not what I would like to give. If I did what I thought was best for you while neglecting your own tastes, it would not only be wrong but an insult. It would be the same as all those fans who offered me chocolates without knowing what I would like or even wanting to try. Those chocolates would convey the message that I like you but I want to mold you into the person I want you to be and that is both a lie and a blasphemy. I want to help you improve of course, but that doesn't mean I don't like who you are now. So I used your favorite chocolates and fillings regardless, but did it in small quantities. However, if you wake up tomorrow with a stomach ache because you ate them all, don't blame me, understood?”

If you hug him he will tell you to be careful so the chocolates don't fall out of the box, but he will hug you back, maybe just more delicately.

You taste one of the beautiful chocolates and they are delicious. The pride on Vil's face only increases when you tell him this. Catching you off guard, he gently holds your chin with his index finger and thumb and gives you a sweet kiss on the cheek.

“This is my thank you for your gift.” he then puts his face right in front of yours, your noses almost touching “And this is my thank you for you.” and he kisses your lips.

“ARE YOU CRAZY?!” Idia tells Ortho. “Me? Cook? For THEM? Do you want them to hate me for giving them food so poorly prepared that it could poison them? Should I check-up you? Your cause-and-effect conclusions seems to be miscalculating things.”

“I don’t detect any abnormality in my data processing.” Ortho guarantees him. “But that's what the rules of Valentine's Day tradition say. And I can even use quotes from your games and mangas to support my argument.”

“OI! Don't use those things against me, it's a low blow! Besides, like you said, those are games and mangas, or even movies, they're not real. Real life is not a fairy tale where you always conveniently fall in love with the right person who feels the same way about you. There is a much greater chance that you will fall in love with someone you don't deserve and end up preferring Prince Charming.”

“So what?”

“W-WHAT DO YOU MEAN 'SO WHAT'?”

“You don't need to declare yourself to them. You just have to offer them chocolates. If the feeling is not mutual, just leave it at that. But I'm sure that (Y/N) will offer you something. Especially knowing how much you like sweets.”

“Oh yeah, sure, it's so much better to receive a friendzone chocolate than nothing at all. It must be the new trend to replace the bucket of ice cream to eat by the spoonful while crying watching a romcom wrapped in a blanket in the middle of the dark.”

“Come on. You know (Y/N), they would appreciate anything you did simply because you tried. They are the type to appreciate the effort and intention more than the end result. I've heard them tell how happy they were with a mere postcard from Malleus Draconia during the winter break.”

“That’s because he's The Malleus Draconia. Anything coming from someone like him is spectacular. Even a curse would be a source of pride for someone to receive simply because he acknowledged their existence.”

While Ortho was trying to convince Idia to At Least Try to make some kind of chocolate for you, you were looking for molds for your chocolates at Sam's Mystery Shop.

And ‘coincidence of coincidences’ Sam had in stock molds in the shape of items from a mobile game that Idea loves. Funny enough, they were also sweets, items for the cards if you're not mistaken. But the problem arose when you saw the price: 130 thaumarks. Sam approached you when he saw your certainty in wanting to buy that item turn into doubt and consideration.

You told him you wanted to buy that, but it was too expensive for your tight budget. So, knowing that you're a trustworthy little imp, he lets you pay what you can for it and work a day or two at the store until you can pay the rest. But he wouldn't need you anytime soon, he'll tell you when he does. You accept the deal and get the molds in addition to the ingredients and the bright blue box with a black bow.

Knowing that he loves sweets, you decide to use white chocolate and milk chocolate. And you made a lot of them, enough to fill the box almost to its limit.

Meanwhile, the only way Ortho found to convince Idia to get you chocolates was by suggesting that he make some and buy others and wait to see if you would give him chocolates and what kind. If you gave him friendship chocolates, he would give you the box he bought; if you gave him chocolates you made yourself (as if), he would give you the ones he made... and the ones he bought too. “I'm terrible at cooking. It's better to play it safe if they come out inedible.”

The next day, Valentine's Day, you take your gifts to go to Ignihyde to deliver them to the Shroud brothers.

You give Ortho a cute heart-shaped power back. You tell him that you would like to give him chocolates too, but since he doesn't eat you try to find something equivalent. And even if it's not a very good charger, it's still a cute decoration. Ortho completely agrees with you and is very happy that you put so much thought into his gift. He gives you chocolate in return, a box of your favorites.

Idia is nowhere to be seen, but Ortho knows you know where to find him. You go to his bedroom door and knock on it. The door opens for you. As you might expect, he is sitting in front of his computer. He pauses the game he was playing, takes off his headphones and turns his chair to look at you.

“Hey, um, you don't need to give me chocolates out of pity if that's the case. I don't need to get something just because my brother received a gift.”

You assure him that it's not out of pity, it's because you really wanted to give him those chocolates.

“I hope you didn't spend too much. I don't want you to regret it to much.”

"I may have spent a little more than I expected," you admit, handing him the box and placing it on his lap. "But I'll be keeping the molds.”

“Molds?! You didn't actually...” He stops to first check if what he thought you had done was true.

He opens the box and it takes him a few seconds to analyze those shapes well. You are startled to see him jump out of his chair.

“THESE ARE GROOVY SWEETS! Where did you found them? Wait! You said you found molds? I didn't even know there were molds to make them! How much did it cost? This game is quite niche, it must not have been easy to find. Or cheap.”

You say finding them was easy because you simply saw them in Sam's Mystery Shop and recognized the shapes and the game logo. Idia asks you about the price again and you try to change the subject until he says that if you don't tell him he'll look it up online. And you finally tell him the price.

“And isn't that a little tight for you?” He doesn't seem the least bit surprised by the price. “I mean, the money you have comes from the headmage as far as I know, right? And I don't think he gives you much more than the bare minimum.”

You tell him about the deal with Sam.

“WHAT?! Oh, No! You won't get into debt because of me!” He says determined “I'll send Sam all the money you spent and what's left to pay for the molds. And if you don't tell me how much it was, I'll just send him, like, I don't know, a 500 thaumarks or something and you can buy whatever you want with what's left.”

You say he doesn't need to exaggerate so much, you could even accept him paying for the molds for you, but the rest was ridiculous.

“Hey, I may not be a prince but my family is still quite wealthy, you know.” he says with a smug, which then turns into his cute smile. “You must have had so much work making them, let me at least help with the expenses.” the smug returns “You know I'm going to send him the money no matter what you say right?”

You sigh a ‘Fine’ and ask if he could finally taste the chocolates. He takes one of the white chocolates and bites it. You even say that you thought about putting something else in them, but you didn't know what, however it seems that this wasn’t necessary. He was eating the chocolate with such a cute smile, and the ends of his hair started to turn a slightly pink.

“Did you try them after they were done?” he asks.

You say you ate the first one you made to taste test it, but not the ones you gave him. He takes another one and brings it to your lips for you to eat. You open your mouth and grab the chocolate, it was good, but what you liked most was the fact that he fed it to you. After this episode of confidence, he becomes embarrassed again.

“I... um...” he then proceeds to speak in the speed of light. “Ortho made me make chocolates for you because it was like the rules of tradition or whatever but you don't need to eat them they definitely suck. B-b-but I bought better ones for you.” he picks up a relatively large box and returns to speaking at a more intelligible speed. “I bought the biggest box of your favorite chocolates they've ever sold.”

You accept the box, but still ask what he said about making chocolates for you.

“What? How can you still understand what I say at that speed? Don't tell me you're one of those people who puts a video on x2 speed or something.” You look at him disapprovingly, showing that you know he's trying to change the subject again. He sighs. “Listen, I know the rules are that when you... really... like... someone you should make the chocolates yourself, just like... you... did. But what does it matter how or who does them, what matters is whether they taste good or not, right? It all ends in the same place anyway.”

“So... these chocolates,” you point to the box you gave him “or any others would be the same to you?”

“Wait! No! That's not what I meant! T-t-the ones you made n-needed to be made, t-they can't be bought.”

“So, would you prefer if I had bought them? Surely they would be better made by a professional, right?”

“N-n-no! You are distorting what I... No, actually, that's exactly what I said... B-b-but that does NOT apply here, not to you, I just... I SUCK AT COOKING, OKAY!? I didn't want to give you something ugly, poorly made and with horrible taste. But fine! If that's what you want!” He goes to the closet and takes out a pink heart-shaped box to give it to you. “You can have it. Don't say I didn't try to warn you.”

You pick up the box and open it to find cute hearts made with your favorite type of chocolate with sprinkles on top. They didn't look bad, they even looked well made. You pick one up and taste it, and it tastes good to you. You actually liked it and tell him that.

“Y-you actually enjoyed that amateurish attempt at cooking? You feeling okay? Are your taste buds buggy? You don't need to say that just to be nice, you know?”

You assure him that you're not just being nice, that you really liked it. Of course they could be better, just like yours could be too. Maybe you should try doing them together sometime?

“First Ortho makes me cook and now you? Do you really like me or just like to see me suffer?”

He insists that you keep the ones he bought too because they were for you anyway. If you give him a kiss on the cheek to thank him he will get all flustered and the ends of his hair will turn bright pink.

You knew very well what kind of chocolates you wanted to make for Malleus: ice cream! But you didn't want to offer him a bowl of ice cream, so you search the internet to see if there was any type of Valentine's Day chocolate that involves ice cream and you find the ice cream bonbons, which are basically balls of ice cream, covered in chocolate.

The recipe you found was for vanilla and chocolate ice creams, which also seemed like the safest choices. You don't make a lot, but you can still make several of each type of chocolate and decorate them with white sprinkles on the dark and milk chocolate ones and rainbow sprinkles on the white chocolate ones.

Unfortunately, since they are cold sweets, you can't put them in a normal box, so you put them in a container and store them in the fridge.

The next day, Valentine's Day, you wonder how you're going to get those chocolates to Malleus. You don't want to ruin them and you're afraid it could take so long to find him that the chocolates will start to melt even if you use a container designed for cold food. At that moment, someone knocks on your door.

“Good morning, (Y/N).” Malleus greets you when you open the door. “Happy Valentine's Day. I hope you had a good night's sleep. I'm here to fulfill the tradition of offering chocolates to my loved ones.” He snaps his fingers and a beautiful black heart-shaped box with a translucent green bow appears floating.

Malleus takes the box and hands it to you with a slight but sincere smile. As you pick up the box and thank him, you remember that ever since you woke up you were almost certain to hear movement outside Ramshackle Dorm. And that's why you ask Malleus if he was there for a long time.

“I will not hide the fact that I arrived before you woke up, but it has not been that long. Only two or three hours perhaps?”

He tells you it's no problem, for him it's not that long, but you still invite him in since he's been out there for so long to you. The two of you sit on the lounge sofa and Malleus can't take his eyes off you, he's so eager for you to open the box. When you finally do, you find beautiful hearts of your favorite chocolate with detailed and delicate line art. Malleus was so happy with your reaction, especially if you say you feel sorry for eating them because they are so beautiful.

“Im glad you enjoyed the presentation so much.” he says with an amused smile. “But please do not let that stop you from consuming them. Unfortunately, their edibility is ephemeral, so don’t let your desire to appreciate its exterior prevent you from savoring its interior and appreciating it in its entirety. Furthermore, I truly wish to know your opinion about my cooking.”

“You were the one who made them?” you ask.

“Yes, it was I.” he confirms with a proud smile. “That is why I'm rather looking forward to hearing your thoughts.”

You take one of the chocolate hearts and bite into it to taste your favorite filling too. It was delicious and Malleus couldn't have been happier about it. Then you remember your chocolates and get up to get them without telling him what you were going to do in the kitchen. You return with a modest-looking container for cold food in your hands and sit down next to him again.

You apologize for not having a box as pretty as the one he gave you and explain that you didn't know how you were going to get those chocolates to him since they had to be kept cold.

“There is no need to worry about that.” he reassures you with a loving smile. “I completely understand your dilemma. Fortunately, you needn't to think about that anymore for I am already here.”

He gladly accepts the container and opens it.

“They certainly look lovely” he says, smiling. “Am I right in concluding that your container dilemma indicates that you made them?” When he sees you confirm, his smile grows and becomes even more affectionate. “From the looks of it alone you seem to have done an excellent work. I'm looking forward to trying them.”

He carefully picks up one of the chocolates and bites into it, his eyes widen when he realized what the inside was.

“Ice cream...” he mutters to himself with a charming smile and then looks at you lovingly. “Is this why you had trouble figuring out a way to preserve them while transporting them? You focused so much on doing something to my liking that you ended up neglecting the logistical aspect.”

You confirm and he laughs heartily.

“I believe you are as aware of the rules of this tradition as I am.” his smile becomes seductive. “Chocolate made by one's hands should be a declaration of love, shall it not?” He takes your reaction as a confirmation.

He caresses your face before giving you a delicate, loving kiss on the cheek. You look at him and see his lime green eyes shining with the most love there could be.

After that he will offer to accompany you to Diasomnia so you can deliver your chocolates to the others. He will never leave your side again and will find any excuse to get so close to you that he will respectfully put his arm around your shoulder or waist.

Silver is too oblivious to realize what's happening between you and Malleus. As for the chocolates, he doesn't give you your favorites because he doesn't know which they were, but he gives you the ones he genuinely thought and hoped you would like. And even if they weren't your favorites, they were ones you really liked.

Lilia will have that smile every time he looks at you two and will try to mess with you a little. As for the chocolates, he said he would have liked to have made your chocolates himself but, you know, rules and misunderstandings to be avoided. (For a moment you shared Riddle's adoration for rules) So he offers you the most beautiful chocolates of your favorite type that he could find.

Sebek will enter into an internal conflict because he doesn't know whether to be jealous of you or happy for his liege. As for the chocolates, he doesn't give you anything too fancy, the chocolates even seem quite simple and basic, but “coincidentally” they are your favorite type and with your favorite filling too.

If you would like to read more from me, you can find it in my pinned post: INDEX

*Sorry for the Cook Leona kinda bait, but let's be real, he would never even try to cook for anyone, not even himself, haha. Also, he is fully aware that he is terrible at cooking and he didn't want to give you poorly made chocolates when he could buy the best ones out there.

Did this get too long? Sorry 😣

[laambfuzz]

—- he knows. ft schlatt. ᝰ

summary: after a bizarre discovery about your favourite streamer, you continue to fall down the rabbit hole of his other content. you were pleasantly surprised to find he also done audio's, and couldn't resist listening to his latest post.

— tags: smut, lunch club!schlatt, mutual masturbation.. technically?, schlatt does porn (duh), dirty talk, open ending again

authors note: helloo, part 2 has been served!! appreciate the love towards my first post, so i had to get this one out to you guys asap. once again, this wouldn't be possible without the lovely @fanficfox and her lovely mind! hope you all enjoy, and don't forget to lmk your thoughts!! ♡

it had been a few weeks since the day you had found schlatt featuring in fucking twitter porn of all places

you'd be lying if you said you hadn't looked again

of course you had

and not just at the original video. you had found a mix of older and newer videos

some were solo, some were with another girl

and either way, you watched them

something you had also found however, was a link to his other content. it was hosted on a website to soundgasm

interesting name, you thought, but alright

and boy were you glad you clicked

you were met with a profile— schlatt's profile— but it was under a completely different alias

but there were tons of audios on the site, dating back to even last year

you felt almost overwhelmed with how much content there, the audios having a wide variety of themes, and the lengths being short, small instances to long played out scenes

you had your night set for you, and you didn't know which one to choose

until you seen one had recently been uploaded, in fact it was posted just an hour before you had found the site

intrigued, you clicked onto the link and got yourself into bed, snuggled under the covers as you pressed play on the audio

the second you pressed play, you were instantly met with heavy breathing— low, deep almost needy-like breaths were being let out, as if he had been holding back for too long

there's a faint shuffle, slight movement before a small exhale escapes his mouth

and he's finally starting

the slick, slow slide of his hand can be heard, and the wet noises begin to fill your ears

you hear how quickly his breathing gets uneven, as he shifts between low grunts and muffled curses

it's not long before he starts talking into the mic, his low and raspy voice sending a shiver through your body, your thighs squeezing instinctively

"fuck, been thinking about this all day,"

"i've just been— shit— so fucking hard, waiting to do this. been wanting it so bad,"

the way he speaks, his voice switches from steady to uneven interchangeably, and it somehow turns you on even more

"bet you'd love watching me, huh? bet you'd fucking get off to it,"

he chuckles to himself lowly for a moment, before he continues, "fuck, who am i kidding. i bet you already are. or at the very least, you're already soaked for me, sweetheart,"

a small whine escapes you from his words because fuck, he was so cocky, and yet so right. the slick was coating between your thighs, there was a pool of warmth sitting in your core that wasn't leaving anytime soon

the audio continued on, schlatt continuing to jerk off and talk you through as he did. giving you visuals through groaned explanations, telling you when he was stroking or squeezing

you had slipped your hand under your pyjama bottoms, allowing your fingers to graze over your underwear as you pressed against your core, rubbing gently along with schlatt

it was nearing the end of the audio, when schlatt's breaths got more erratic and his talking became more frequent

"fuck— getting close.. 'm not gonna last,"

what could only be described as a whine escaped him, before he coughed and cut himself off with a low chuckle

"but i know you— you, sweetheart— i know you're listening in,"

you were sure this was another bit to entice the viewer in and make it more personal, and you weren't complaining. you sped your fingers up, rubbing the fabric against you faster, creating a nice friction

"and i know you'll be getting off to this, cause you seem fuckin' filthy. but let me— shit, let me ask you one thing," he started again, voice shaking more than ever

you knew he was close, and so were you

he groaned deeply, leaning closer to the mic before speaking up, "i know you asked whether i've been told i talk too much, but i know you like it, like it enough to tease me about it live,"

your mouth dropped and your fingers froze momentarily, as if edging yourself for a few seconds, but they sped up again when you heard schlatt moan loudly through the audio

his chair creaked and the moans came spilling out of his mouth, little fuck's along the way as he eased himself through the orgasm. the sounds were even wetter than before, mixing in with his stuttered breath was all you needed to hear to send yourself over the edge

you came just after schlatt, the wetness soaking and staining your underwear as you rode out the orgasm, practically humping your fingers as you whined to yourself, revelling in his breathy groans

there was no outro to the audio, just a simple "see you next time, fuckin' slut," before it cut out, and you were left in a haze

nevermind from just the orgasm, but the fact he had referred to you during the audio, you had been on his mind all day from your teasing

you didn't know how to feel, or what exactly to do. but one thing was for certain

you were going to be back in his next stream, making sure to mention tonight.

[susiephone]

fun fact! no one, no matter what they've done, "deserves" to be abused. abuse by definition cannot be earned. someone can be shitty and still be an abuse victim, and the person abusing them is doing it for reasons entirely separate from the victim's moral character.

[ladysherreeamore]

Well it looks like Nic is trying to prove yet again that she isn't dating Jake and won't be around him for yet another major event 🤭

She wanted to be as far away from him as she can....again! So she went to Los Angeles (for no reason) although she doesn't need to be there for a couple of weeks.

Some may think it's an old post but either way she's trying to show us she won't be spending time with Jake, another way to say they aren't dating

She also posted the most basic birthday post but she has had so much to say whenever she did a birthday post about Luke, and no the red heart means nothing, she does it for others too

Everyone else in Jakes life has said so much more while jakholes are only focused on a random heart that means nothing

I'd also like to point out how Doug did more of a hard launch then we've ever seen Luke or Nic do with a loving kissing photo, the tag, post directly on his page, stating that he loves him. The Antonia and Jake lovers always say Nic loves Jake and Luke loves Antonia without us seeing any evidence of that or hearing them say this, and neither have claimed these two.

Nicola has missed spending time with Jake at each major event when couples spend time with the person they would be dating. She had no reason to miss spending time with him for any of these occasions because she wasn't working. She went away to her mom's for Christmas and New Years and until WT didn't see them together since December 15th for 3 long weeks! Then she comes back to support him like she does with all of her friends while showing off her tan that she wouldn't get from the cold environment. She didn't even tag him on her birthday post yet jakoles assume they were together but she always tags him in posts he's a part of. Now she goes to LA just before his birthday for no reason although the SAG awards won't start for 2 weeks and just posts the most basic birthday post with him near a trash can, but they think this is what dating looks like? Where is the love? Anytime i'm in a relationship I would do the most loving post and spend time with them for all major holidays and birthdays and I would take them home to meet my mom, Nic isn't doing any of that!

[leighsartworks216]

A Bargain Struck

dragon!Sylus x blind!oracle!Reader

Chapter One

I almost forgot to post this today!! When I say it's been a day y'all, it has been a day

Warnings: swearing, fear of infection, intimidation, child death (mentioned), implied murder

Word Count: 923

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You think this is some joke to him. He’s walking ahead of you, albeit incredibly slowly, while you shuffle along the wall, scraped hands guiding you through what you can only assume is a cave. The walls are rough and jagged, not to mention winding. You think you feel doorways, but every time you start to turn into one to try getting any vague impression for what’s inside, he chastises you with an amused, “Over here, pet.”

You huff when your toe hits stairs. “This is your home?” you bite. You shuffle one foot forward to feel for the next step. What a nightmare. “Were you raised by Wanderers or something?”

He chuckles deeply. It reverberates around the hall. “It’s much worse than that.”

“Oh, yeah? How?”

“Hmph. Maybe I’ll tell you one day.”

“Asshole.”

“Careful, pet. Your god is watching.”

The cave is cool, seemingly untouched by the sun outside. The chill numbs your feet, bites at your fingertips. Even your ceremonial garb does little to keep you warm. You just bite your cheek. You’re already a prisoner here, best not allow yourself to be too weak around him. A difficult task, indeed.

You misjudge one of the steps. Your toes just catch the edge, but it’s not enough to support you and they slip. With no railing to hold, you cannot grasp for support. You tip backward with a shout.

Something hard wraps around your waist again. It holds you tightly, shoving you forward and onto a solid platform. Had that been the top step? You’re sick and tired of landing on your hands and knees like this.

You’re released as you sit up, back finding a solid wall to lean into as you cover your heart and will it to stop racing. “Ah,” you pant, “thank you.”

The “wall” suddenly steps away from you, and you catch yourself in another heart-stopping moment to save yourself from tipping backwards. “I won’t save you next time.”

“Let me go and there won’t be a next time.”

He chuckles, but it lacks any real mirth. “Get up. Or do I have to drag you the rest of the way?”

You sigh. Still, he doesn’t rush you when you sit a moment longer to calm your heart. Ever since you were a child, your health was of the utmost concern. You couldn’t do anything with the other kids, and not because of your lack of sight. Even braille books were considered too dangerous. The risk of a paper cut getting infected and killing you was a risk nobody was willing to make. As such, this much excitement was a shock to your system.

And suddenly, you find yourself worried about the tiniest cut getting infected and killing you out here.

You reach out, feeling for the real wall this time. Loose sand scrapes beneath you as you bring yourself to your feet. “Do you have any medical supplies here?”

He starts walking again and you follow.

“Would you be able to use them if I said yes?”

You wish you could see, just so you could smack him upside the head. “You keep underestimating me. I suggest you stop now before you embarrass yourself.”

“That’s a gamble I’m willing to take.” He sighs, sharp and tired, annoyed. “I might have some around.”

“Well, do you have water, at least? Clean cloth?”

“You’re a demanding little thing, aren’t you?”

“And you’re an insufferable bastard. Neither of us are too happy with each other, but if you won’t let me go, I suggest you do the bare minimum and allow me to clean my injuries,” you hold out your palms, unsure if he’ll even see them, “so I don’t get sick and die.”

His steps come to a stop. You stop with them. Your skin prickles and crawls, unsettled and on edge. His steps approach. You lean your shoulder into the wall, holding your ground rather than being backed up to some other possibly dangerous or deadly area in the cave.

“Tell me a prophecy, and I’ll get you your medical supplies.”

You scoff. “It’s not that simple. It’s Astra who picks and chooses what futures I see. I know nothing of you. All the prophecies I know right now are for the people in the city.”

Is that his breath fanning across your face? You flinch back at its heat. You feel like an injured rabbit facing down the maw of a starved wolf.

His voice is low when next he speaks. “Then tell me one of them.”

You turn your face away. His breath hits your cheek, though tendrils of the air brush down your neck. You suppress a shiver. You don’t want to give him the satisfaction. “There’s a scholar there. He studies the heavens and tracks their movement. His parents are anxious for him to conceive an heir. His wife is pregnant now, but…”

“But…?”

“... The child… will be a stillborn. They won’t know the cause of death, and that shame will fall to the mother. She won’t live long after, either, once the scholar crumples under the disappointment.”

He hums. The heat of his breath disappears. “I’ll get you your medicine. Next time, I’d be interested in hearing a prophecy of my own future.”

“Then you’ll have to pray to Astra. Only he can grant you the knowledge you seek; I’m just the messenger.” “Well, messenger,” he steps around you and nudges you with an elbow, “this is where you’ll sleep. Try not to fall down the stairs looking for me.”

---

Tag List:

@the-golden-jhope @armycaratlover @sylusfluffymeow @cheesemachine44 @nyx2021 @angel-jupiter @thelittlebutton @pikachuzhc @pomegranatepip @cordidy @an-ever-angry-bi @thejysemongko @deusfoundry @that-lost-one @always-just-red @22carolina08 @lunaizhere @sine-nomine0 @beautifulthingsiadore @lalaluch @burningtrashgentleman

[incorrect-rangers-quotes]

okay i got 20 tags in on a reblog of this before i thought i might as well bite the bullet and just write normal hahah. there are so many angles to look from here that i want to find and think about this later :)

someone in the tags said "he's calm when he wants to be" and i think that's pretty well-phrased. i personally would put it like this - halt is very level-headed when it comes to things like danger and combat and strategy, because when you do as much Danger and Combat and Strategy as rangers do, it's either you develop that, or you & the lads Get Deaded. i think that's mostly what's being referred to when he's described as calm and in control. he's a great presence to have when you're going into fight or flight because in terms of personal danger he hasn't panicked once in his life (exaggeration) and gets actively mad when someone's worried about him (not an exaggeration) LMAO. an anger outburst will rarely win you a fight.

op alluded to it already, but, you can also certainly have different amounts of patience when it comes to different things. halt especially, i think, is more prone to answering violence with violence no matter if it's proportionate or not than, i dunno, will? older crowley? pauline? diplomats are a far more emotionally adept authority i feel like. LOL. either way, yeah, sure, he can be patient, even in situations where he might deck someone otherwise, but i think to sympathize and thus be patient with you he's got to understand/relate to you. and obviously he's more likely to do that if he actively gives a shit about you, which he doesn't for most, so. Violent Tendencies.

i'll be honest my kneejerk reaction to the post was to joke about the fact that There Be Men Like That Sometimes, but really you can think about it that way! some of these things - corporal punishment, reacting to disrespect with violence, etc etc - aren't necessarily "i'm mad and not thinking about what i'm doing", they're just his normal responses that aren't always expressed angrily at all. it's just what he - read, people - do. it's what isn't necessarily universally accepted, but it is accepted by him and arguably the people around him.

to add; how much do you reckon there can be violence without anger? i don't think some of these were him running out of patience necessarily, or getting angry with Homicidal Flavour. i think halt is absolutely capable of looking at a situation, assessing it with a fairly neutral line of thought, and deciding that violence should be the answer. it's not a reaction, it's a response, if that makes sense. of course that doesn't mean he doesn't get angry, i'm sure he does plenty, but i feel like little of it is Uncontrolled violence. it's what he sees as Deserved violence, and let's admit there's seldom any punishment in it for him. iirc even his arguably Biggest L - the whole banishment thing, which was also exactly what he wanted out of the situation mind - wasn't over the threat of violence which was very much there, it was over calling duncan a daft wee piss cunt or whatever and it's illegal to be mean to the king. tragic.

and of course you, reading, can see the violence as uncalled for, or you can see the times he uses it as him being cruel. if that's your interpretation, then there's really not much going against it. i mean, it's my interpretation too, lmao. i think halt is a largely a hard and unpleasant man. it's just that we're seeing him from the perspectives of the people that mostly like him, so we get to see all the moments when he's patient, or kind, or loyal too. which makes for an overall rather nice character, if you're willing to get your hands a little dirty.

and, you know, childrens' literature and all. our faves can do a little prisoner slavery i guess. why not.

I've been thinking about this for a long time, but it's so fucking funny to me how Halt is the guy that everyone is like "yeah he can stay calm, he's always in control and has great patience when it comes to certain things, he's has great control over his emotions" but at the same time that guy has has bet up more than one teenage apprentice in the span of two books, thrown two guys out a window in the span of one book, made Will sleep outside in the cold, not even in the ground but in a fucking tree for singing a song and having a bit of whimsy in his life, threw a guy off his horse by putting his bowstring around his neck, knocking him out (and then wanted to punch him again when he woke up) for being a bit of a dick, and at one point in The Emporer of Nihon-Ja, Will was sure Halt was gonna deck a dude or something along those lines for knocking his hood back off his face. And thats just the stuff actually in the books, there's probably way more we don't know about.

I'm trying to think of any more shit he's done now.

It's just funny how he can apparently be the most calm and in control man but also get super easily pissed off and ready to kill in an instant at the same time.

[kingmaxstatic]

Goodmorning, Goodbye and Goodnight: A Post About Farewells.

... How do you break away from something or a piece of yourself for so long? Or at the very least, do so in the public eye?

Let's not beat around the bush.

I'm not happy in the Sonic fandom at the moment.

(More below the post)

So let me make this PERFECTLY CLEAR I have not fallen out of love for Sonic. I still adore Sonic and I will more than continue to enjoy it!

But I'm unsure if that enjoyment can really be.. public.. for the time being.

For a while I've always couldn't help but notice that the fandom is a bundle of bickerers. Makes sense. Most of us here are ND and VERY opinionated!

But this all came to ahead when I was watching a video about Amy Rose. And as I watched, as interested as I was. A video dissecting her current writing I realized something...

I was fucking miserable!

Why do I CARE so much about other people's opinions about something I enjoy? Even if I cringe at that one bumblecast clip of Ian saying "he wishes he could redesign Amy".

Even IF I understand the concern.

I still LOVE Modern Amy! I was letting this video give me insight, yes but it also made me feel guilt for even LIKING IDW's take on Amy (and IDW in general).

Infact guilt is something I've felt A LOT in the fandom.

Shit man, Starline is my FAVORITE character in sonic, period. But it feels like both the fandom (and the writers, to an extent) want to guilt you into not liking him.

That liking him is some moral failing on YOUR part? (Literally Ignoring the fact we've literally had a few years to grow attached pre-imposter syndrome and that he didn't just magically appear post-Chao Race Arc)

Yes, Starline sucks. Yes, he (in canon) used two random mobians for cyborg stuff. I know this. He's still an enjoyable character and I don't excuse his canon actions. It's even why in my own canon of him Imposter syndrome isn't canon.

I'm tired of the stress, man. I'm tired of not enjoying Starline. I haven't been able to properly enjoy him in a wile.

For my birthday I actually bought a Bad Guys physical copy!

And I have not touched it at all.

The stress of keeping up with this fandom has actually caused me literal anxiety shivers. I don't have fun any more. There's just.. too much discourse.

And I think it's best for me if I take a step back from it. At least.

So.. What Happens Now?

Well! What happens now is that I take a public step back from the fandom! Like I said I still very much enjoy Sonic.. I just don't think that enjoyment will be AS public any more. Gush about it with friends! Play the games! Draw art.. For Myself!

This doesn't mean I won't be keeping a close eye on my sonic moots (you haven't gotten rid of me JUST yet!) but it does mean I'll probably start blocking tags. Taking some breathing room. Finding that love for Sonic again on my OWN time. Be a lil selfish with it!

I still love and adore my ocs (and they'll still be around on Toyhouse and Art Fight!) But their stories are mine to share.. and sometimes I can just.. not share them!

What happens to this Blog?

SHIT MAN! I'll still be around! I probably just won't be posting in the sonic tag any time soon. I'm in OTHER fandoms right now (Nicktoons, Crash, Etc) If you like my writing and my art In THIS fandom surely you'll enjoy it in others!/pos

Even if those fandoms are more.. obscure to say the least? This Blog, at it's core, has always been ABOUT multifandom stuff and It feels like it's finally returning to that!

Nature is healing! KingMaxStatic is finally posting about WEIRD fandoms only 3 people know about again!!

What Happens To Starvoltz?

Though not an as.. urgent question. It's one I feel has held a lot of weight, at least to me. I know people are GENUINELY such big fans of Starvoltz and I think it's been the ONE BIG THING keeping me back from making me step back from the fandom...

So... I'm killing both Starline and Voltz off..../j (I would never)

I still LOVE and ADORE Starline and Voltz! They mean the world to me (and even the MOON to me!) But over the course of the past few months I've felt a nagging GUILT about them.. and I don't want to feel that anymore. I want to ADORE Starvoltz like I used to...

and In order for me to do that I GOTTA step back.

If you wanna get a lil cute about it, you can think about it like the two going on a honey moon or a vacation!

If you've made it thus far.. thank you. Genuinely. Thank you for understanding! I hope you understand. I love sonic, I will always love sonic. But I need my own space to love Sonic.

I suppose maybe like the main character I need to be free.

Free like the wind.

[mcondance]

can we talk?

— college bf caspian origin story <3 title from “can we talk?” by tevin campbell. no warnings.

“i started to write you letters, but i wanted to be more clever… if we ever come close again, i know what i’ll say then can we talk?”

college caspian was plotting on you since he saw you walking with your friends when he was getting out of practice. he immediately was tapping his friend on the shoulder asking “who is that? you know her?” and every single dude he asked said “nah, never seen her.”

from there he started his internet sleuthing, but it was hard because no one knows you. you have to be the most out-of-the-way girl on the planet. like seriously, who are you?

he checks the university’s official page. he checks the branch off organization and event pages. he checks random posts. he doesn’t give up. it’s torture seeing you in the dining hall this one time and not being able to say anything to you. you have the same big headphones you had on when he saw you that night, and it just draws him to you more. he can just make out you mouthing the words to whatever you’re listening to while you’re standing in line.

one night while he’s taken to looking for you again, he finds you. smiling all pretty on the university’s volunteers page, your headphones still on. he thanks whoever’s listening that the page tags everyone.

your username is a reference to a song (he saw the song in your music highlight, he thinks it sounds good.) you’ve got a joke in your bio, a highlight dedicated to your friends, and a highlight for what he’s gathered is posts of your favorite celebrities.

he knows you’re gonna be annoyed if he just slides up and messages you, the way your face twisted up when a guy approached you and your friends’ table in the dining hall that one time lets him know that. he laughed watching you watch the boy the whole time and roll your eyes when he finally walked off. so he just follows you. and maybe he posts a good pic of him with a song from an artist in your highlight.

his phone dings not even 10 minutes later. you followed him back. and you liked the story he posted just for you.

he’s in there. “she liked the story!” he texts his group chat, and they all know he’s in there.

“but like… what if she was just liking it cause of the song?”

“dude”

“not only did she follow you, but she liked your story. did you see the way she was looking at that guy in the dining hall? she does not like men 😭 you’re in there.”

he’s in there. he’s sooooo in there.

and so, the story tag begins. you start it up. or really, you respond to caspian’s story on your own story with a well-picked tiktok, one that says “me thinking about that boy with the unique name and the pretty brown eyes.”

he wakes up to it, and he swears he almost has a heart attack.

so he responds with a post of his eyes in the sunlight, set to another song from your music highlight.

your turn, the same day, in the form of a meme from a page that says “we gon keep playin’ eye tag or you gon holler at your girl?”

for a week, he plays story tag with you. you post a meme that’s obviously about him, he posts a tiktok that’s obviously about you, you post a picture of face and he likes it, he posts a picture of him in his uniform and suddenly your note says “OHHHH MY GOD.” he likes playing, but he cannot keep not having you. so when you put “inshallah he will be mine” in your note, he has to reply.

“inshallah?”

you respond almost immediately.

“it means god willing”

you’re playing it so cool.

“ahhhh

not to be like forward or anything

like not to assume anything

but like

i mean

at least for me

all my stories have been about you

and you’ve been liking them

so is that about me

if it’s not just block me that would be so embarrassing”

“perhaps 🤭

of course they are LOL the tiktok about baseball players wasn’t obvious enough? 😭”

“i mean it was but like

i remember the way you looked at that guy who walked up to your table so i didn’t wanna intrude 😭”

“oh yeah he was just annoying

you’re not annoying

i actually like your stories they’re so funny

you’re like a comedian”

“not a comedian

but if they make you laugh then i’m happy :)”

“do you wanna like

hang out or something tomorrow

if you’re not busy with baseball and stuff”

“yeah when do you want to

i’m free anytime tomorrow”

we can go to the dining hall if you want

“yeah for sure

uhhhhh

how were your classes today?”

and from there, the conversation flows. you talk all night, about when he started playing baseball, about what music you listen to, about what books he’s read recently, about how you may have been plotting on him too.

“did you not see me gawking at you that time in the dining hall?”

“noooooo

i think i was too busy gawking at you”

and, like caspian always tells his boys, the rest was history. 3 1/2 weeks culminate into him laughing in the dining hall with you for almost 3 hours, and then walking around campus for 2 more hours. caspian walks you to your car, and, despite being shy about it, asks if you wanna go to the event the university is having the next day.

of course, you say yes. you say yes to the park, too, and the library between classes, and he says yes to a party friday night, and the public library down the road saturday morning.

it’s all lovey from the start, pictures taken like you’re dating, making time for each other like it’s been months. it all sets the scene for the relationship to come. caspian’s so happy he got out of practice early that night.

[heytemporary]

Oh goodness gracious

Tumblr please understand that just because I post critics of bnha does not mean I want to see posts about the show UNLESS its about slandering them.

I switch to For You for one second thinking I was going to get a fresh feed of media I genuinely care about. But no its flooded with shows I’ve slandered being praised one way or another.

Quite frankly idgaf about the general census fandoms portrayal about the show. Not the inside jokes, fanart, fanfic, headcanons, fanon portrayal, ships or controversial discourses surrounding themes like (allegations for) marginalised identities & oppression because who are we kidding thinking Horikoshi did a great job at it when he himself never even faced such things.

For example there’s no point of me caring about ships like togachoko when the canon itself couldn’t even handle it right. Because from what I could tell it didn’t know if it wanted to be portrayed as positive or toxic. Don’t care about its fandom discourses like if Oochako is suffering from comphet, if Oochako deserved Toga from Izuku, if Oochako’s bisexual, if this and thats the fourth.

And I’m saying this as a (Asexual) Lesbian who does genuinely care about representation. Same thing can be said for other aspects but I don’t want to get too ahead of myself and possibly alienate myself.

If you genuinely believe Horikoshi did a good job at portraying lesbians like that then 🤷‍♀️ All I’m saying is theres no point emotionally exhausting yourself in those fandom discourse if the creator themselves has shown time again to fumble even their own canon representation. You honestly deserve better than that.

Heck, I don’t even want to see fanart /fanon from my supposed favourite character Hitoshi Shinsou. Only canon screencap/manga panels and slander off him. Miserable fucker is not even getting a smile from me.

And I also do not care to emotionally invest myself with the canon anymore. Cba to care about the vigilante, movies, sideplots or whatever. Don’t want to actively see that unless its just canon posting without any bias comments.

The only thing I want to see from the mha tags is criticism, slander, and better reimagines.

Yes ik I sound miserable. No I would not go out of my way to deliberately shit in the fandoms tags and ruin it for everyone. Yes I get some ppl are emotionally invested in this series. No I don’t want to see any positive praises on my feed especially if its bias driven.

I’ve got to start actively cultivating my feed. I didn’t want to block bnha / mha tags because thats just doing too much. But now you leave me no choice Tumblr

((Tbh this can be said for other shows I once used to be a fan of that I’ve grown to hate. i.e Miraculous, Doctor Who))

[monkesupreme]

ref

a satisfactory answer for Selina

[crookedfivefingers]

3.13 | ᴛʜᴇ ʟᴀꜱᴛ ᴏꜰ ᴛʜᴇ ᴛɪᴍᴇ ʟᴏʀᴅꜱ

link to the post I accidentally wound up prattling endlessly about in the tags 💀

[caeslxys]

I’ve mentioned this elsewhere but it feels relevant again in light of the most recent episode. Something that’s really fascinating to me about Orym’s grief in comparison to the rest of the hells’ grief is that his is the youngest/most fresh and because of that tends to be the most volatile when it is triggered (aside from FCG, who was two and obviously The Most volatile when triggered.)

As in: prior to the attack on Zephrah, Orym was leading a normal, happy, casual life! with family who loved him and still do! Grief was something that was inflicted upon him via Ludinus’ machinations, whereas with characters like Imogen or Ashton, grief has been the background tapestry of their entire lives. And I think that shows in how the rest of them are largely able to, if not see past completely (Imogen/Laudna/Chetney) then at least temper/direct their vitriol or grief (Ashton/Fearne/Chetney again) to where it is most effective. (There is a glaring reason, for example, that Imogen scolded Orym for the way he reacted to Liliana and not Ashton. Because Ashton’s anger was directed in a way that was ultimately protective of Imogen—most effective—and Orym’s was founded solely in his personal grief.)

He wants Imogen to have her mom and he wants Lilliana to be salvageable for Imogen because he loves Imogen. But his love for the people in his present actively and consistently tend to conflict with the love he has for the people in his past. They are in a constant battle and Orym—he cannot fathom losing either of them.

(Or, to that point, recognize that allowing empathy to take root in him for the enemy isn't losing one of them.)

It is deeply poignant, then, that Orym’s grief is symbolized by both a sword and shield. It is something he wields as a blade when he feels his philosophy being threatened by certain conversational threads (as he believes it is one of the only things he has left of Will and Derrig, and is therefore desperately clinging onto with both bloody hands even if it makes him, occasionally, a hypocrite), but also something he can use in defense of the people he presently loves—if that provocative, blade-grief side of him does not push them—or himself—away first.

(it won’t—he is as loved by the hells as he loves them. he just needs to—as laudna so beautifully said—say and hear it more often.)

[moe-broey]

Reposting this one on its own bc. It means So Much To Me. It means EVERYTHING TO ME.

[sainz100]

2024 Hungarian GP | x (edited)