#nakedtoaster bp

[mara-phelion]

nakedtoaster reacts to the tortured poets department and they take the opportunity to promote the love of their life

[fenmorre]

- 'cause, oh, the world is lucky to be your home.

(happy birthday to them)

[0rphiichaze]

     “Ughh… what time is it..?”

The pleasant drag of Toaster’s drowsy voice cuts through the previously quiet atmosphere, pulling your attention away from the laptop at your fingertips. Frosty blue eyes flutter open, meeting your own. You turn away from them for a moment to look back at your screen.

      “2:17.”

He groans and rolls a bit closer to you.

     “Shit…”

You reach one hand out, slowly carding your fingers through their silky smooth locks. It draws out a sleepy hum from his lips, and they subconsciously lean into your touch.

     “Why didn’t you wake me up..?” His voice is still a quiet murmur, purred into the bed sheets pressed against his cheek. You simply shrug, though a smile comes to your lips.

     “‘Dunno.”

Your tone of voice says otherwise, causing Toasty to peek one eye at you. You can’t help but chuckle at their expression. “You just looked cute I suppose.”

A familiar sputter of syllables slips from their lips, and he buries his face back into the bedsheets. You can’t help but laugh, carefully pulling your hand from their hair. Or at least, you attempt to.

Their hand catches your wrist and drags you back — planting your hand back in his hair. Their hand stays loosely wrapped around your wrist, his skin much warmer than usual. Another quiet chuckle slips from your lips.

     “God, you’re adorable.”

He groans, but doesn’t reply.

✩ Reblogs are appreciated !!

[covehearted]

[missrosiesworld]

Heartfelt Connections

Here are some sweet headcanons for NakedToaster when they are in a relationship:

Soft and Gentle: Despite their sarcastic exterior, Toasty is incredibly gentle and caring. They love to give soft, comforting hugs and often stroke their partner's hair while they cuddle.

Toasty, pulling their partner closer, softly stroking their hair: "You know, I could stay like this forever."

Partner, snuggling deeper into their embrace: "Your touch is so soothing. It's like all the stress melts away."

Toasty, smiling softly: "I'm glad. I just want you to feel safe and loved."

Creative Surprises: Toasty enjoys creating thoughtful surprises, like coding a special app or game just for their partner, filled with inside jokes and sweet messages.

Toasty, excitedly showing their phone: "I made something special for you."

Partner, intrigued, takes the phone and sees a custom app: "Is this... a game? With our inside jokes?"

Toasty, grinning: "Yep! It’s filled with little things that remind me of you. I hope you like it."

Supportive Listener: They are always there to listen, offering thoughtful advice and support. Toasty values deep conversations and is genuinely interested in their partner's thoughts and feelings.

Toasty, attentively listening, holding their hand: "Tell me about your day, I want to know everything."

Partner, sighing, sharing their thoughts: "It's been rough, but talking to you helps."

Toasty, squeezing their hand gently: "I'm always here for you. Let’s figure it out together."

Flustered but Affectionate: Toasty gets easily flustered by their partner's playful teasing and flirting, often turning red and stumbling over their words. However, they never fail to express their love, often through small gestures like leaving cute notes or preparing their favorite snacks.

Partner, teasingly: "You’re blushing again. It’s adorable."

Toasty, turning red, fumbling with a note: "I-I am not! I just... wanted to leave this for you."

Partner, finding the note with a sweet message: "This is so thoughtful. You always find a way to make me smile."

Toasty, smiling shyly: "I just want you to know how much you mean to me, even if I get flustered saying it."

Protective but Respectful: Despite being protective of their partner, they respect their independence and support their decisions. They love seeing them shine and encourage them to pursue their passions.

Toasty, serious but caring: "I want you to be happy, and I’ll support whatever you decide."

Partner, smiling gratefully: "Thank you. It means a lot knowing you have my back."

Toasty, nodding firmly: "Always. I believe in you and your choices."

Tech Savvy Romantic: Toasty uses their tech skills to enhance their relationship, like setting up virtual dates when they're apart or creating a digital scrapbook of their memories together.

Toasty, pulling up a shared screen: "I set up a virtual date night for us. Look, it’s our favorite movie and snacks."

Partner, surprised and delighted: "You really went all out. This is perfect, even if we’re miles apart."

Toasty, smiling: "Distance doesn’t matter when we can still share these moments."

Playful Banter: Their relationship is filled with playful banter and inside jokes. Toasty loves making their partner laugh and often uses their wit to keep the mood light and fun.

Partner, laughing: "Is that your way of challenging me?"

Toasty, smirking: "You know it. I’m just saying, I’d win in a trivia match."

Partner, playfully rolling their eyes: "We’ll see about that, mister trivia master."

Nervous Romantic: Despite being in a relationship, Toasty still gets nervous and giddy when planning romantic gestures. They always want everything to be perfect for their partner.

Toasty, fidgeting slightly, presenting a homemade meal: "I tried cooking your favorite dish. It might not be perfect, but..."

Partner, touched, tasting the food: "This is amazing! You put so much effort into it."

Toasty, relieved and smiling: "I just wanted to do something special for you."

tags: @camistheone

[dantaku]

hey bloomic fandom

Can y'all give me your fav quotes from all the boys?

I wanted to do some small phone wallpapers for them and I thought adding a lil quote would be fun.

So shoot them in the replies! <3

(Any of the boys is fine! I plan on doing one or two for each <3)

[harukimurakitty]

Take Me Home, Country Roads (3): We're Going To Be Friends

❥ NakedToaster x Reader

September 7th, 2009

If there was one thing you didn't hate about Ottawa, it was undoubtedly Everything Coffee. Everything Coffee, as the name suggested, was a quaint cafe in the heart of the town- a little over a twenty-minute walk from your house. Sable introduced you to the shop after your first day of school when she took you into town to run errands; you knew from the moment you stepped inside it'd be your safe haven from the surrounding Hickville. 

The cafe was visibly rundown from the outside, but it held a charm that no other place in Ottawa could hold a candle to. Flickering string lights hung across the front, from one side of the wood paneling to the other, casting a warm glow over the outdoor seating area. The inside was just as cozy, with a lingering scent of hot chocolate and roasted coffee beans welcoming you the second you opened the door. Overall, the cafe had a rustic feeling that inexplicably cured your homesickness. 

With your first week in town officially completed, you felt more confident navigating around than ever. You now had a basic understanding of where the main staples in Ottawa were located, such as the laundromat, convenience store, park, and previously mentioned cafe. You had done a great deal of exploring that weekend with your sister, wandering around town and looking at what the place had to offer. Although there wasn't much to see, it left you feeling more prepared for your trek to school that Monday morning.

You woke up not on a firm, uncomfortable couch, but on your mattress that had thankfully arrived Thursday afternoon with your desk. Unfortunately, you had forgotten to pack your bedsheets, so for the time being, you were stuck with only a bare mattress, bedframe, and an old blanket Sable had stashed away in her closet. Still, it was an improvement from sleeping in the living room. You were already starting to settle into your new living arrangement- not that you were particularly thrilled about it, though. So much so that you had even managed to wake up early enough to walk to Everything Coffee before school.

In Colorado, swinging by a cafe or convenience store before school would've been no big deal. Everything in Denver was, at most, a ten-minute walk or bus ride away. Hell, there were two Dutch Bros in your neighborhood alone. If anything, it might've been more of a challenge to not stop by someplace before heading to class. Ottawa, however, didn't have the same luxury of an in-town Dutch Bros- or public transit, for that matter.

Although Everything Coffee didn't align with your usual route to school, it was in the center of town where an actual road, not just a dirt-trodden path, led to Ottawa High. The walk would be twenty minutes longer than taking the trail and not even half as scenic, but you figured the coffee would make up for it. Double-checking your pockets for your keys and wallet, you slung your backpack over one shoulder and announced your departure. Your sister was likely still asleep, but it made you feel a weird sense of loneliness to just leave.

“Sable? I’m heading out!” No response. You sighed and swung the door open.

Aside from the sounds of birds chirping and trees rustling with the morning breeze, the day was surprisingly calm. The sun had just come into view over the horizon, giving everything a bluish tint. The weird lighting looked like something straight out of the first Twilight movie, which made you giggle. The mornings in the South were the complete opposite of the afternoons; rather than feeling the sun beat down on you from high above the clouds, a cool breeze was always seconds away from gently rustling your hair into your face.

The further you walked, the deeper you got lost in thought. You went over all the usual things, like what you wanted to order when you got to the cafe or how much homework Ms. Roberts would assign that day- but it all cycled back to one person in particular... Soren. By the end of the first day, you were almost positive you had made a lasting impression on him. The next day, however, things between you were awkward all over again, and by Wednesday, you two had nothing to talk about. 

You could tell Soren was trying to make conversation, but he could hardly stutter out a "How are you?" let alone ask a mildly thought-provoking question. Aside from him, no one else had bothered to talk to you all week. At the rate your friendship (or lack thereof) was going, you'd be lucky if he could look you in the eyes by graduation. College graduation, that was. 

After a few more minutes of walking and thinking about your maybe-friend, you arrived at Everything Coffee. The string lights didn't shine as brightly in the morning as they had the afternoon you first visited, but you liked how the cafe looked illuminated by the morning glow. As you entered, a bell attached to the green wooden door chimed. Unsurprisingly, the inside seemed to be bustling with commuters; some were your age, with backpacks strapped over their shoulders, while the rest were adults shuffling in and out on their way to work. Despite the rush, only two other people seemed to be waiting to order. 

While you waited, you scanned the chalkboard menu proudly displayed behind the front counter; at least a third was dedicated to listing every flavor known to man, from caramel to Irish cream to mudslide. Another third was listing a myriad of coffee variants, some of which you'd never even heard of. And on the right, crammed in with tiny lettering, was all the food they had to offer. At the top was french toast, sold for two dollars and twenty-five cents. 

Just like that, the thought of you and Soren's strained friendship was at the forefront of your mind again. You were what you'd consider to be an ambivert, almost always ready to initiate a conversation and not nearly as awkward as you used to be. So why was it that you couldn't seem to figure Soren out, and why did that bother you so much? 

“Hello, what can I get fer ya’ today?” A middle-aged woman behind the cash register asked as the person in front of you stepped aside, done ordering. You jerked your head back to face her, order-less and unprepared.

“Yeah, can I get,” you scanned the menu over again, “a sixteen ounce (drink of choice)? And a muffin to go?” Although you were finished with your order, your eyes still lingered on the chalkboard menu. Something was missing.

“...’Ll that be all for yer’ order?” The cashier asked, writing down your drink on a plastic cup. You paused for a second, not taking your eyes off of the menu.

“Actually, can I get a matcha latte and french toast too?” The lady smiled and nodded, reaching for a second cup. “It’ll be right up. Total’s $11.50.”

You didn’t know what possessed you to order a whole breakfast for a boy you barely knew, but as you walked up a third flight of stairs to your classroom, you knew you regretted it. Not only was balancing two drinks, two bags, and your IPhone 3GS way harder than you initially thought, but you didn’t even know if Soren liked what you had ordered him. Were you that desperate for friends? What if he was allergic to matcha? Or lactose intolerant?

When you reached your class, you awkwardly shuffled the bags and matcha cup in between your elbow and forearm and rattled the door open with your free hand. You got it open just wide enough with your limited range of motion to slip inside, careful not to drop anything. The drinks interrupted the peaceful quiet of the room with a sloshing sound as you made your way to your desk, capturing a couple peoples’ attention. What? Have they never seen a fucking drink before? You thought as you finally sat down. 

You glanced over to your seatmate, ready to get rid of the deadweight you’d been carrying since you ordered. Soren had his head down just like every other morning that week, but he sat up when he felt your shift next to him. It took him a moment to rub the sleep out of his eyes and put his glasses on, which you found amusing. You took the time to grab his food and hold it out to him. 

“Here.” You presented once Soren turned back to face you. His eyes widened in surprise; whether he meant it in a good or bad way, you couldn’t tell.

“Oh. Oh- uh, thank you.” Soren’s voice cracked as he plucked the food out of your hands. His face flushed when he looked down at you, a small smile on his face. “I, um, how’d you know I like matcha?” 

“Totally didn’t.” You barked out a laugh that was a bit louder than necessary. “Er- I just figured you’d like the green color? And I got you french toast, too.” You gestured towards the bag.

“T-Thank you. Really.” He said, opening the brown paper sack. You pulled your muffin out at the same time, and together, you took your first bites. 

The flavor was pretty good by plain muffin standards, albeit a bit dry, but it was Soren’s reaction you were most focused on. After biting into the pastry, his eyes lit up and he let out a small groan at the taste. “ Mmf- This is,” he took a second bite, “ so good!” He spoke with his mouth full, which under normal circumstances would’ve completely grossed you out. This time, however, you couldn’t help but laugh and grin. 

Soon after you started eating, the minute bell rang and Mr. Neale promptly started class. As he lectured about types of aquatic biomes, you and Soren happily munched down on your breakfasts. You figured if buying him food made him so happy, you’d have to do it again soon. You made a conscious resolve to not look too deep into that urge. After various notes, homework reminders, and powerpoint slides, the second period bell rang and you and Soren walked out together. 

“I really don’t think I’ll be paying much attention to Environmental any time soon. I mean it’s one of the easiest AP’s anyway, and besides, when am I gonna need to know trophic levels in the future?” You ranted as you walked down the hallway to AP Lang.

“Mm, are you planning on going into geosciences?” Soren asked.

“Nah, I’m not too keen on collecting dirt samples for the rest of my life.” You shrugged and turned into the classroom. Soren stopped and pointed somewhere behind him.

“I, uh, actually have to pick up some stuff from the office, but I’ll be back soon. I think.” you nodded and walked into class by yourself. You would’ve offered to go with him, but you didn’t think Ms. Roberts would’ve been pleased if you accompanied him without reason. 

You took your seat at the back and pulled out your journal, earbuds, and phone. Ms. Roberts had a paragraph projected on the board as a warm up activity at the start of every class; your job was to identify the theme and examine the supporting evidence in the text. Boring, as per usual, but at the very least you were allowed to listen to music. 

You put your earbuds in and started working, not bothering to actually play anything on your phone. That day’s paragraph was a brief excerpt on Oscar Wilde and his novel The Picture of Dorian Gray, a book you were vaguely familiar with. You were far from a bookworm, but you enjoyed an occasional fiction book. As you wrote, you could hear the two girls in front of you snickering about one of the lines in the text.

“‘ His homosexual tendencies are reflected in the novel.’ How weird is that?” The girl directly in front of you whispered to the other. Admittedly, you had suppressed a laugh too. You knew you were probably laughing for different reasons, but “homosexual tendencies” wasn’t something you were expecting to read that morning. 

“Oh my god, shut up! Someone’s gonna hear you!” Her friend giggled back.

“And? Who cares.” She shrugged

“Probably the guy behind me.”

You shot up defensively at that comment and immediately slouched back down when you realized you had been eavesdropping. Fortunately, both girls were too busy doubling over in laughter to notice your reaction. What the hell did they mean by that? A part of you wanted to say something, wanted to stand up for what might’ve been your only friend in that town, but another part was morbidly curious. Were you already killing your social status? And did social status matter if you were only surrounded by assholes?

“I mean, what normal guy dyes his hair pink? If it’s purple or blue, fine, maybe he’s just one of those emos. But pink has to mean he’s… y’know.” She elaborated, grinning.

“I don’t think his hair is dyed though? We went to elementary school together at Davenport and it was the same exact color it is now.” The girl in front of you said.

“God, was he always creepy or is this like, new for him?”

“Always weird. Honestly, I wouldn’t be surprised if he became a serial killer or something one day.”

As if on cue, Soren opened the door to the classroom with a hallway pass in hand. You watched as he turned it in to Ms. Roberts, and looked down before he could turn back to see your staring. From the corner of your eye, you could see the girls give each other a look before moving on to gossip about other things. You felt a pit forming in your stomach as you contemplated your next course of action.

Aside from the mild bigotry in their conversation, you couldn’t help but feel as though their claims had some validity. What if he was weird, like creepy weird, and you just didn’t know it yet? And as shallow as it sounded, you also didn’t want to be a social outcast your senior year by befriending him.

In Denver, you never had to think twice about your status. For the most part, everyone was friendly toward you and vice versa. You didn’t have major issues with anyone, and the worst thing that had happened to you reputation-wise was that one time your sophomore year when you fell down the stairs. Other than that, you were a well-rounded, rule-following, average student. In Ottawa, however, you were nobody.

“H-Hey. Everything alright?” You jumped at the sound of Soren’s voice, somehow too lost in thought to have noticed him sitting down. Your face flushed, partially due to being caught off guard but also out of… embarrassment? You knew it was a bitch move to not want to talk due to his social status, but you couldn’t help but hope the girls in front of you wouldn’t notice you associating with him.

“Yeah. Just working.” And with that, you turned back down to your journal.

You didn’t talk to him again until the bell rang and the girls in front of you left. Although it felt obvious, you hoped he wouldn’t notice your sudden coldness. After gathering your stuff, you bid him a brief goodbye and headed to Pre-Cal.

Guilt continued to eat at you all day, especially during lunch when you sat in silence together on the rooftop. You felt as if he knew what you were doing, like he was interrogating you without ever even having to open his mouth. Soren had been so kind as to show you the rooftop the first day you met, and you repaid the favor by what? Cold-shouldering him? Regardless if it was intentional or not, you were distancing yourself from him just over some stupid rumors. Sure, there was a possibility of him being a creep, but there was also a chance that he was just being bullied. From your experience, Soren had been nothing but nice to you, albeit a bit guarded. For the time being, you figured you’d ignore any uncertainties. After all, who else did you have?

By the time eighth period came around, you were still feeling awkward around him. Luckily, Yearbook was composed mostly of social recluses- people that generally stuck to themselves. You didn’t have to worry as much about being under scrutiny there as you did in your other classes; everyone was quiet, worked hard, and considerate for the most part. You and Soren could talk freely there without being interrupted or ostracized. 

“Hey, man.” You greeted, giving Soren a nervous smile when he sat down in the seat adjacent to yours. 

“Hey. Um, how was… History? That is your last period, right? ” He trailed off, with the last part of his sentence more targeted to himself than it was to you.

“Yeah, history. It was alright.” You nodded.

“Anything… new?”

“It’s been, like, two hours since we last talked so no, not really. I am mega-psyched for Muse’s new album, though. You?”

“Uh, not exactly. Kinda why I asked you first.” He said with a small smile.

“Right.” You grimaced. Turning back to your work, pieces of scrapbook paper and pictures from school events were littered across your desk. Truth be told, you only took Yearbook for an easy A. You didn’t expect to actually have to do work. Just as you were starting to get into the flow of sorting the soccer team’s page, Soren abruptly turned to face you.

“Y-You mentioned Muse earlier.”

“Yeah?” “Well, what other stuff do you like?” Immediately, what felt like a million bands came to mind. They varied in genre and pretentiousness, from Brittany Spears to The New Pornographers, but you thought about which ones Soren would like the most. If he knew Muse, you could probably find some common ground.

“Mm, right now I’ve been super into The Strokes, Jeff Buckley, and,” you tried to gauge his reaction, “...Weezer?” Weezer was a safe choice. You didn’t know a single white guy your age that didn’t know them. Something about Cuomo’s straightforward lyricism must’ve seriously resonated with teen boys everywhere.

“Oh, I haven’t listened to Jeff Buckley before. Is he any good?” You did a fistpump inside your head. Got another one. 

“Not only is he good, he is the best damn musician to come out of the whole, wide Western Seaboard.” You thought for a second. “Aside from, like, maybe 2Pac if you count Oakland.” Soren nodded, a small smile on his face.

You continued talking to Soren about Buckley’s discography before moving on to other musicians. If he was tired of your ranting, he didn’t show it. Every time you looked away from your work, Soren was listening intently and nodding along to every word. If you didn’t feel like an asshole for ignoring him before, you definitely did then. By the time the final bell rang, you were still deep in the midst of your conversation with him. Although you had been doing most, if not all of the talking, it was far from one-sided.

“-Which is why Phil Spector had the power to be such an asshole in the first place. He literally dominated the music industry!” You ranted as you walked next to him down the front entrance of the school. You knew your discussion (or diatribe, to be more accurate) had to come to an end soon, but a part of you wanted to keep talking to Soren. You felt like you had made a breakthrough in terms of your friendship that day. As you walked out of the school’s bustling front doors, an idea came to mind.

“Hey, do you walk home?” You asked, completely out of the blue. Normally, you two would split up and go your separate ways after eighth period. You had no clue what he did after that.

“Yeah, w-why?” 

“Wanna walk together? I mean cause. Y’know. We already walk together in school and-” 

“ Yes ! Er- yeah, I’d like that.” Soren’s face reddened at his outburst, seemingly startling himself with how eager he was to agree.

“Rad. So, what direction do you take?”

“Uh, I usually walk past this one dirt trail behind the school,” you froze, “but we could take the main road if that’s more comfortable.” You walked next to him wordlessly. What were the chances of there being a second trail that you didn’t know about? “(Y/N)? I mean we could walk to your house instead if-” Soren sputtered, backtracking.

“No! No, it’s not that. Uh, how many paths are there behind the school, exactly?”

“...One?” 

A beat passed.

“I think we live in the same neighborhood?” You said, looking up at him. “How the hell haven’t I seen you around before? That trail ain’t exactly big or anything.”

“You live on Pike Street?” Soren asked, astounded. You hesitated at the question.

“I don’t know my address.” You confessed. He gave you an unimpressed look. “I moved here like a week ago! What do you expect?” You threw your hands up, exasperated. 

“Ok ok, sorry!” Soren laughed. “So, trail it is?” You nodded.

You walked and talked until you reached the start of the trail, when you remembered the moral dilemma from second period. With all your talk about bands and neighborhoods, you had almost forgotten about nearly ghosting him that morning. As much as you wanted to clear things up directly, you didn’t want to risk putting him on the spot, either. 

“So...” You started.

“So.” He parroted.

“Not to be presumptuous or anything but, um, I noticed you don’t talk a lot to other people. Why is that?” You looked up at him, trying your best to maintain a low key expression. Soren glanced in the opposite direction, nervously.

“Right. That.”

“You don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to! I was just curious, that's all.” You waved your hands in front of you, panicked. 

“No it’s fine, really. I just never got along with others, I guess. I mean, no one ever made an attempt to branch out, but neither did I. I’ve just always been alone, more or less.” Soren took a couple seconds, his eyebrows pinching together as he contemplated what to say next. “Which sounds… a lot angstier than I meant it to be.”

“Well, I think you’re pretty cool. And I also think if you reached out, other people would see that too.” You smiled. Soren gave you a hesitant stare in response; not a mean one, but it was obvious he didn’t agree.

“T-Thanks, but in Ottawa? No one here is worth reaching out to, quite frankly.” He paused. “Uh, aside from… you, of course.” You couldn’t help but grin.

“Word.”

“Pfft. Yeah. Word. But, uh, how does it feel moving your senior year? That must suck.” Soren looked down at you expectantly. Oh great, your turn to be vulnerable. 

“It’s the absolute, fucking worst . I had a whole life in Denver! Friends! Family! A 4.0 GPA! And now I’m in the middle of nowhere with nothing but my sister and iPhone- which gets no service, by the way- and I just,” you took a deep breath, “I just wanna go home.” You sighed. Soren frowned sympathetically.

“I’ve basically lived in Ottawa all my life. I used to go to this private school nearby, Davenport, but I transferred hoping to find friends or just someone to talk to. Um, it didn't go too great.”

“Was Davenport any better?” You asked, tilting your head to the side. By this point in the trail, the trees were starting to clear. You were familiar enough with the path to know it meant you were almost home.

“ God, no. I’d say they're equally terrible, but at least it’s easier to blend in at Ottawa. I… got a lot of negative attention at Davenport because our class sizes were so small. There were only some, what, fifty people in my grade?” Soren shook his head. 

“Is everyone in Texas an asshole or what? Who would pick on you, man?” You questioned. It was hard for you to wrap your head around Soren being bullied. Aside from his shyness, he was really, really cool.

“Privileged, bigoted guys with nothing to do.” He responded, deadpan. Bigoted. You noted his use of that word in particular. 

“Yeah… I knew a couple of people like that in Denver, but everyone there is mostly,” you pondered your choice of words, “accepting, from my experience.” Your eyes locked with Soren. Something about his gaze made it clear that you understood each other, even if it remained unsaid.

A couple seconds later, the two of you stepped out into your neighborhood. Now, you felt, was a good time to end the conversation. 

“Um, that’s my house over there,” you pointed to the building a couple yards away, “but I had a really fun time walking together. Do it again tomorrow?”

“Y-yeah, of course.” Soren gave you a warm smile. You started towards your street before turning to face him.

“Godspeed.” You saluted.

You turned back around to see your house, hearing him laugh to himself as you walked away. Yeah, you definitely understood each other.

[chris-continues]

Toasty lives for the domesticity you provide them. Each time, without fail, if they wake up before you in bed they take a moment. Savor your presence, bask in not being alone.

He’d considered having a partner. That fell through. But you stayed. You were a constant reminder that they were wanted, lovable- and while his previous loneliness had definitively diminished (although not disappeared entirely), and wasn’t as bad as it was in his highschool years, it was still… nice.

Really nice.

Just like quiet mornings with you.

[vipersiia]

characters? quest, xyx, nakedtoaster, nightowl, and onionthief

recently talked about onionthief and romantic literature quotes,, and started having,..,., mm thoughts. quotes can be from your view or theirs, up to perspective. 

all quotes taken from various works of literature, and some are translated from other languages <3

quest ; 

i could recognize him by touch alone, by smell; i would know him blind, by the way his breaths came and his feet struck the earth. i would know him in death, at the end of the world - the song of achilles, madeline miller

if a million loved you, i am one of them, and if one loved you, it was me, if no one loved you then know that i am dead - letters to milena, franz kafka

xyx ; 

if, however, your feelings have changed, i will have to tell you: you have bewitched me, body and soul, and i love...i love you. I never wish to be parted from you from this day on - pride and prejudice, jane austen

i love you in this way because i do not know any other way of loving but this, in which there is no i or you, so intimate that your hand upon my chest is my hand, so intimate that when i fall asleep your eyes close - cien sonetos de amor(100 love sonnets), pablo neruda

toasty ; 

and sometimes i have kept my feelings to myself, because i could find no language to describe them in - sense and sensibility, jane austen

i love you without question, without calculation, without reason good or bad, faithfully, with all my heart and soul, and every faculty - juliette drouet's love-letters to victor hugo,  juliette drouet

owl ;

if someday the moon calls you by your name don’t be surprised, because every night i tell her about you - shahrazad al-khalij

i love you. today. tonight. tomorrow. forever. if i were to live a thousand years, i would belong to you for all of them. if I were to live a thousand lives, i would want to make you mine in each one - the retribution of mara dyer, michelle hodkin

onion ;

i can listen no longer in silence. i must speak to you by such means as are within my reach. you pierce my soul. i am half agony, half hope... i have loved none but you - persuasion, jane austen 

and I know that i want the impossible, and that you’re above the claim of imagination, above possession and above destiny - impulse, nizar qabbani

[eyzoa]

↳. nakedtoaster moodboard || bloomic

[bloomingpanic]

hey bloomic community <3

[a-ghostiee]

i have played all of the good endings of blooming panic in less than a week and I no longer want to do the bad endings help

especially not nightowl, xyx and nakedtoaster's

and yes I know thats all of them apart from Quest

[fenmorre]

really be putting the bloom in blooming panic

[chris-continues]

Toasty in a maxi skirt ksbsksbskwbsjbsnsns

some gay gay boys for the gay gay month

[l-mint-l]

[oderu]

long time no panic blooming