#or just use it to remember when it’s Little Guy Day

[hairmetal666]

There's a boy, Eddie meets a boy, and it's mundane because they're boys and it's summer and they find each other like lonely boys in summer do. It shouldn't be the defining experience of Eddie's life, that summer, that boy. His memories are all sun drenched, tanned skin, minnow catching, swimming, camping under the stars, a fumbling, toasted-marshmallow-sticky first kiss. He grows up and still Eddie thinks there will never be anyone else like that boy.

---

There's this new teen soap schlock on the CW. It fills his social media algorithms with gossip and BTS footage and spoilers. He ignores every bit of it, so far from the target audience it's laughable.

Jeff, Gareth, and Freak get into it. At first, he takes this as a betrayal of the highest order, threatens to kill all their characters in their next dnd session, but they convince him to give it a shot.

It's airs Thursday nights and thank god Wayne is at work, he'd never live it down. He turns the TV on just in time for the cold open, and within ten seconds there's a beautiful man on screen. Chestnut hair, coiffed carefully back; down-turned, hazel puppy dog eyes; freckles and moles dotting his face and neck--Eddie would recognize them anywhere, spent hours mapping the constellations of them during their one magical summer.

He sinks to his knees in front of the TV--nose inches from the screen--watches the whole episode that way. For the entire hour, the only thing he sees is Steve Harrington.

Eddie doesn't move until after the credits have rolled. He can't believe that the boy he knew all those years ago is an actor on a popular show, that he'd just missed finding him, all this time.

Before he can talk himself out of it, he Googles, which is a mistake immediately, because the most popular pictures are from a GQ photoshoot where Steve is very wet and very shirtless, the amount of chest hair on display enough to kill a man. He forgets how to breathe for several seconds, before quickly scrolling away, which is also a mistake because it's how he learns that Steve 1) dated his castmate, Nancy Wheeler for several years before 2) she got caught cheating on him with another castmate, and 3) he's often seen out and about with his current on-screen girlfriend, Robin Buckley.

For his own sanity, he has to put his phone away. It isn't like he's going to see Steve ever again, obviously, so he needs to forget all this. Keep the memory of that summer safe.

---

It's late spring and Gareth invites them all to their favorite bar in Indianapolis. One of their friends from their Corroded Coffin days got a gig playing bass for some up and coming indie guy, tickets and drinks are comped. It's not their usual vibe, musically, but who is Eddie to say no to a free night out?

And, look, night of, the music isn't his vibe, but the place is packed and he's with his best friends, and the drinks are flowing, so even he finds himself swaying along to the whiney hipster shit coming from the stage.

Eventually, the lights go down for the headliner, and the crowd crushes forward in a way Eddie isn't used to in this bar. He lets himself be pushed forward, somehow ending up right in front of the stage.

When the lights go up, he stops breathing.

It's Steve.

Steve right there in front of him, guitar strapped across his midsection. He's wearing dorky little Ray-Ban sunglasses, but Eddie would know that hair, those moles, anywhere.

There's no way Steve will notice him, remember him, but it's enough to see him now, to hear his music. Eddie dances and smiles at the boy who got away. Maybe he'll mourn later for the distant hope he harbored deep within his heart. But, he thinks, this is enough.

Steve comes out for the encore, takes off the sunglasses, tosses them straight to Eddie, smiles big and genuine and familiar. His heart stops. It can't be real, it can't mean anything, but he's so elated that his soul might rise from his body.

The show ends, the buzz of it, of Steve, reverberating through Eddie as he makes his way back to the bar. It's crowded with people, but he slides through the bodies until he's at the front. Someone taps him on the back, and he thinks they're trying to get through, but when he turns it's Steve.

His smile is so beautiful, Eddie thinks that maybe he's dying.

"Eddie!" Steve says.

"Stevie!" He doesn't mean for the old nickname to come out, couldn't keep it in.

"You remember me!" Steve is beaming.

"I'd never forget you." He's smiling just as hard. "Can I buy you a drink?"

Steve's nose wrinkles. "I've got, like, fifty coming. We could go somewhere quiet to talk?"

He's never said yes to something so fast in his life.

They go back to the postage stamp sized green room, and he's surprised to see Robin Buckley there. His stomach shrivels for a second, but she stands and he sees the lesbian flag painted on the side of her Converse, the oversized vest she's wearing.

"You want me to skedaddle?" She asks. He loves her immediately.

"Do you mind?" Steve asks. Robin shakes her head.

"Nice to meet you, Eddie," she calls as she sails out the door.

"You told her about me?" He knows his smile is downright goofy.

Steve blushes. "Um, yeah. Maybe a little? Just that I met a boy from near here one summer. And, uh, maybe something about him being my first kiss?"

"Oh." Eddie thinks he might burst into flame. "I wasn't sure if--I didn't know if you'd remember."

"I'd never forget," Steve says.

"You got famous." Eddie says, which is dumb, but he doesn't know how to deal with Steve cherishing those childhood memories the same way he does.

"I guess I did." Steve looks down, hair tumbling around his face. "It's probably not what you were expecting."

"Did I expect to turn on the tv and see my first crush staring at me in HD? Not quite. But It was amazing. You're amazing."

"I'm on a CW show," Steve laughs.

"So?"

"I think maybe you're a little biased about your first crush."

"Are you saying that's a bad thing?" They're flirting, he thinks. Can't believe it's happening, that Steve might--

"Well, maybe, but only if you tell me you don't have a crush on me anymore."

"Are you kidding? I saw that GQ photoshoot."

Steve's laugh is loud and bright, like fireworks in Eddie's chest. They're closer now, sharing warmth, breath.

"I have some candids if you want to see."

"Don't tempt me with a good time, Stevie."

They're quiet for a second, Eddie a little breathless from how hard they're flirting, how right it feels.

"You were great out there," he says.

"Thanks." Steve smiles, bashful. "I know it's not your kind of music."

Eddie shrugs. "I like what you do."

"And to think, you've barely gotten a taste yet." Steve pauses for a beat, horror dawning on his face. "Oh, shit. That was--I'm sorry--I--Robin says I always come on too strong, and I promised I would play it cool, but--"

"You never have to play it cool with me," Eddie says, sincere through his laughter.

"This is fast, though, right? I mean. The second I saw you in the crowd, it--it confirmed everything I thought when we first met. That's--is that crazy?"

Eddie's smile is softer now. "Not at all." Gently, he cups Steve's cheek with his hand. "Can I kiss you?"

"Please," Steve breathes. "God, Eddie, please."

Their mouths meet and it starts out sweet and slow, but it's not childhood crushes anymore. Eddie's tongue teases at the seam of Steve's lips, which part for him like he's the only one in the world with the magic words.

It's sweeter than any marshmallow.

[minorlyatfault]

𝐀𝐋𝐋 𝐎𝐅 𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐒 𝐒𝐈𝐋𝐄𝐍𝐂𝐄 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐏𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐄𝐍𝐂𝐄, 𝐏𝐈𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐀𝐍𝐓𝐈𝐂𝐈𝐏𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍 !

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

𝐀𝐋𝐋 𝐎𝐅 𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐒 𝐒𝐈𝐋𝐄𝐍𝐂𝐄 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐏𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐄𝐍𝐂𝐄, 𝐏𝐈𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐃𝐄𝐒𝐏𝐄𝐑𝐀𝐓𝐄𝐋𝐘 𝐖𝐀𝐈𝐓𝐈𝐍𝐆 !

j. todd x f!reader

𝒮ynposis: jason todd is a yearner & a true lover boy. when he loves, he loves hard yet quietly. he doesn’t express his affection through grand gestures but through the little things▰remembering your favorite song lyrics, the exact shade of your favorite color, & writing love letters he’ll never send because he’s too shy.

even though he’s already in a relationship with you, he still feels the butterflies whenever you're around. during gotham’s chaotic nights, while patrolling the city, he finds himself missing your touch, longing for your presence. even in the middle of his hardest missions, his thoughts always drift back to you▰wondering what small gift he can bring home just to see you smile.

𝒲arnings : my 3 am writing, grammatical errors(?) separated povs of dear beloved jason & reader. backstory of mr. bugs bunny if u squint.

𝒩ote:

001: idea was from @/tiredtodd on tiktok!

002: I JAD TO REWRITE TGIS TWOBTIMES & TRIED SAVING IT INMY DRAFTS FOUR TIMES

003: ikindof hatetgis..

004: SAY MY MY NAME & EVERYTHING JUST STOPS.

005: thank u for 100 followers ongonfongong/srs/srs/srs/srs

gotham never sleeps.

nor does jason.

it’s been one of those nights▰the kind where criminals seem to crawl out of their skin to horrify citizens once more, where no matter how many heads he cracks, there’s always another fight waiting around the corner. his knuckles are sore beneath his gloves, guns being out of bullets, his ribs ache from a particularly nasty hit, & the sting of fresh cuts lingers across his skin.

still, none of that is what’s bothering him.

he sits on the ledge of a building, letting out a deep sigh, his view of the city blurred through smoky neon below. he should go back now, but he waits, holds his breath, looks down into the streets, limned in dim light, & stares & stares, & stares.

this weight in his chest is unfamiliar, yet so painfully recognizable.

he's always been the guy to carry his burdens alone, shouldering the consequences that comes with being red hood without complaint. but ever since you walked into his life▰sweet, soft, full of warmth in a way gotham could never be▰ things have changed.

his fingers twitch,& he reaches into the inside pocket of his jacket. he doesn't have to look. he knows.

a note.

one of several, in fact.

he writes them when the nights feel like they stretch into forever & when the silence weighs too much on his chest. little notes he can never possibly say to you. this note is no different. folded neatly, shoved between the worn pages of an old book carried around in the pocket▰words he'll never give to you, yet still can't let himself get rid of.

some people would throw anything they did that are considered embarrassing, but no, not jason.

"you looked cute today. i wanted to tell you, but i figured you already knew."

"i stole your lip gloss again. smells like blueberries. reminds me of you."

it's stupid, he tells himself. you're right there in his life. he sees you every day▰watches you hum to yourself while fixing your hair(sometimes he'd help by brushing your hair using his fingers), twirling a ribbon between your fingers(he'd also participate in this activity, claiming it to be “stupid” but won't refuse, not when you seem to enjoying yourself so much), picking out outfits with that soft, thoughtful expression he's come to love(you convinced him to match sanrio pjs once, he didn't rebuff the idea). you don't belong in the shadows like he does. you're all bows & butterflies, a contrast so complete it should have driven him away.

but it didn't.

it never could.

jason breathes, smoothing his hair with a gloved hand. he should go home. he should crawl into bed, let you fuss over his injuries, pretend he doesn't love the way your hands linger just a little longer when you patch him up.

instead, he finds himself moving▰leaping across rooftops, scanning the streets for something(other than crime). he's not even sure what he's looking for, only that the ache in his chest won't settle until he finds something to bring back to you.

it's a habit he's never acknowledged out loud.

some men bring their girls flowers. others bring chocolates, jewelry, grand gestures that scream their affections for the world to see.

jason todd?

he brings gotham to you.

not in the way it brings bloodshed and violence▰no, never that. but in the little things. trinkets he finds on his patrols, things that make him think of you. a pressed flower growing between the cracks of an old building. a charm bracelet abandoned in a crime scene alleyway.

once, he even found a small, tattered bunny plushie, barely holding together. he cleaned it up, stitched it as well as he could, & just put it on your dresser and left without saying anything.

you never asked him where it came from. you only smiled, kissed his cheek, & said, "he looks well-loved."

jason had to get out of the room after that.

tonight, he sees something that lines one of the fringes of crime alley▰a small street vendor selling handmade trinkets at barely subsistence living. most people don't even give him a glance anymore, being so wrapped up in their problems that they don't care.

there's a necklace resting among the clutter, the kind of thing he can imagine you wearing▰a small pendant in the shape of a crescent moon, subtle yet elegant. he doesn't think twice before pulling out a few crumpled bills(that is probably two times higher than it's price), handing them over without a word.

the vendor barely gets a chance to thank him before he's gone.

by the time he returns to your apartment it's late▰by two in the morning, or at least in gotham; all is quieter & yet not silently so. there is no point in knocking. he slips through the window, sliding in, again, moving silent as a phantom as he reaches the apartment's floor.

a view awaits to knock the air from his breath.

you sleep on the couch, all bundled up in that soft blanket. the tv hums away on the opposite side of the room, highlights light shadows on your face. on your lap lies a book open to one side, as though you had fallen asleep waiting for him to show up.

jason swallows, a warmth moving into his chest. his stomach▰no▰his entire soul feels warm.

he's gentle as he moves, settling beside you without waking you. his fingers brush against your cheek, tucking a stray strand of hair behind your ear. you stir slightly at the touch, murmuring his name in your sleep, & he bites back a soft curse, heart aching at how easily you trust him.

how easily you love him.

he never deserved someone like you.

yet, here you are.

by his side, as you call his name every now & then.

his eyes fall to the small bag in his hands, the necklace still inside. for a moment, he hesitates, deciding whether to give it to you now or wait until morning.

in the end, he puts it on the coffee table, placing it beside your book where you'll see it first thing when you wake up. a small note beside it, written in his messy handwriting.

"saw this & thought of you. sleep well, sweetheart."

he doesn't sign it. he doesn't need to.

you'll know.

jason settles back, his own exhaustion finally gaining the upper hand. he needs to get up, shower, take care of the bruises he's been pretending aren't an issue. but as you turn in your sleep, reaching instinctively for him, curling up closer to his side with a soft little sigh.

yeah.

he can spend a little while like this.

the clock on the wall ticks.

it's late.

too late.

you change positions on the couch, adjusting your blanket over your shoulders & looking at the clock once again. jason would have been back by now. you know not to worry. he has lived through worse nights, fought against deadly criminals, walked away from things that would kill another man. yet still, a sense of anxiety clings to you, curling inside your stomach like a knot that feels like it's squeezing your insides.

with a sigh, you again let your eyes fall back to the book in your lap, fingers tracing the worn edges of the pages. it's one of jason's, a novel he left on the shelf ages ago & never reclaimed. you aren't even really reading at this point▰just skimming, letting the words blur together while your mind focuses somewhere else.

to him.

to the little things he does that he thinks you don't notice.

like how he keeps your hair ties even though he swears he doesn't.

or how he always makes sure there's an extra blanket on your side of the bed.

or▰your favorite▰how he writes things in his books.

you found it by accident, months ago. a dog-eared page in one of his old novels, words scrawled in the margins in his distinctive, messy handwriting. you thought at first it was just notes▰random thoughts about the plot, maybe something important he wanted to remember. basically him annotating.

but then you read it.

"she was humming today, while she made tea. low, silent. i believe that was that tune she is very much so partial to, that one she uses every time she is styling her hair. she did not appear to have been aware, but i did. i always am."

you had almost dropped the book, your heart flopping in your chest.

since then, you've turned it into a silly game. you pretend you don't notice the tiny notes he scatters around, but secretly, you live for when you stumble on them.

you know there is one in this book. you haven't discovered it yet, but just the idea of it makes you giddy, titter softly & warmth rising like a volcano about to erupt.

he doesn't even realize you know.

it's so jason▰loving quietly, loving deeply, but never really saying it outright. he'll not say one word on being away for that patrol but have you notice some folded paper with the message tucked into his jacket pocket while out doing laundry. he will never tell you, outright say it to your face that you're pretty, but he would watch you style your hair with gazes soft & lingering.

what is he writing tonight?

(something romantic, obviously.)

if he's sat atop some height of gotham, breathing between fights, scribbling thoughts of you into some old notebook while the city, loud.

"i miss her."

"i wish i could bring her here once to see this view."

"do you think she'd be angry with me for taking her lip gloss again? nah. worth the risk."

you are smiling at the thought, worrying in your ribs.

he'll be home soon. he always comes home.

the television, rapid of brightness, a bright glow over the room. your eyes begin to feel more heavy, the weariness of waiting finally settling into your bones. you tell yourself you'll stay awake, just a little longer. just until you hear the familiar creak of the window, the soft thud of his boots against the floor.

you never make it that far.

sleep pulls you down, the book slipping slightly in your lap, the soft sounds of the city fading into nothing.

you don't know how long you've been out when you feel it.

a shift in the air. the presence of someone near.

it doesn't surprise you▰not in the way that it should. instead, your body relaxes instinctively, as if it knows before your mind is quite awake.

a warmth beside you. a familiar scent. leather, gunpowder, the faintest trace of something you.

you stir, barely conscious, mumbling his name before you can stop yourself.

"jay..?"

a pause. a sharp inhale. then, a hand▰warm, calloused, careful▰brushing against your cheek, tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear.

you sigh at the touch, sinking into it even as sleep tries to drag you back down.

there's such a long silence before he talks, his voice quieter than ever.

"yeah, sweetheart. it's me."

you want to wake up all the way now, want to sit up straight & fuss over him like you always do. ask if he's hurt; ask if he's eaten anything; ask if tonight was one of the bad ones. but this exhaustion is heavy, pulling you down like an anchor.

you are barely aware of the way he shifts beside you, settling, the weight of his presence grounding you even into sleep.

you hear nothing in the end except the soft sound of something landing on the table▰the clinking of metal and the faint scratch of paper across wood.

& jason's whisper, barely loud enough to hear.

"missed you."

the sunlight arrives▰uninvited▰through the curtains & warms your skin as you blink awake. the tv remains on, a late-night movie in reruns, hanging precariously in the corner of your head.

the book has shifted slightly, now perched on the edge of the couch.

oh, & your beloved jason is still here.

he's half-asleep beside you, one arm draped over the back of the couch, the other resting loosely against his stomach. he looks tired▰more than usual▰but there's a peace in his expression that makes your heart ache.

slowly, careful not to wake him, you stretch▰only to freeze when your eyes land on the coffee table.

a small bag. a delicate necklace, its crescent moon pendant catching the morning light.

& a note.

your breath catches as you reach for it, fingers ghosting over the familiar, messy handwriting. jason's messy handwriting.

"saw this & thought of you. sleep well, sweetheart."

a smile tugs at your lips, warmth once again spreading through your chest.

you glance at jason, still asleep, still him.

& then, giggling softly to yourself, you reach for the book in your lap, flipping through the pages.

there’s definitely another note hidden in here somewhere.

& you can’t wait to find it.

"she keeps looking at me like that. like i’m something worth holding onto."

"she touches me like i won’t shatter. like i won’t ruin everything the second she gets too close."

"i don’t know how to explain it. it’s in the way she speaks to me, the way she laughs, the way she reaches for my hand without thinking. she doesn’t hesitate. not with me. no one's ever done that before. no one except her."

"i think▰"

there’s a pause. the sentence breaks off, like he wasn’t sure he should continue. like the truth was something too heavy to write down.

& then, softer, almost like an afterthought:

"she's too good. too bright. too much like the kind of thing a man like me should never be allowed to have."

"but gods, i want to.”

if jason peter todd isn't a hopeless romantic, then what is he?

© minorlyatfault, 2025

[steveseddie]

in bloom

written for the @steddiebingo kissing booth mini event | prompt: rose | rating: t | wc: 2,3k | tags: modern setting, flower shop au, wayne is the owner, eddie works with him, meet cute

read on ao3

Work at the flower shop is always a little slow after Valentine’s Day.

Eddie has been helping Wayne at Munson’s Floral Treasures long enough to know this. They’ll still get orders, of course– fancy arrangements for weddings, smaller bouquets for birthdays and anniversaries, but most of these are ordered in advance. They don’t get many people walking in throughout the day, looking for a last-minute Valentine’s Day gift.

Eddie likes to send his uncle home on slow days like this. If there are no deliveries to be made and supplies aren’t coming in, Eddie is more than capable of handling however many customers come in by himself. If he can’t, all he has to do is run upstairs to the apartment and get Wayne.

So far there hasn’t been any need for that today. It’s been almost an hour since Eddie sent the old man away and no one has come into the shop. In the meantime, Eddie answers a few calls, writes down a couple of big orders, and sweeps the floor of the shop before going to the backroom to work on some new arrangements for their window display. In case anyone comes looking for a ‘Sorry I forgot about Valentine’s Day’ gift.

Eddie just got started on the second arrangement when the bell finally jingles.

He puts the shears down and steps out of the backroom, wiping his hands on his apron. “Greetings and welcome to Munson’s Floral Treasures!”

There’s a guy standing in the middle of the shop, facing away from Eddie as he studies the flowers covering the walls. He jumps when he hears Eddie, whirling around and offering a little wave. “Oh, hi.”

God, he’s pretty, Eddie thinks as he takes in the guy’s hazel eyes and soft lips. His eyes travel lower to the chest hair peeking out of the guy’s polo shirt and the way his jeans hug his thighs just right.

Then he remembers he’s working and ogling customers is probably rude. Clearing his throat, Eddie offers him a polite smile. “Can I help you?”

The guy shakes his hair out, running his hand through it to push it back. “Yeah, so, I have kind of a weird request.”

Eddie raises an eyebrow, his interest piqued. “Lucky for you, I love weird,” he says, which sounds a little weird and makes Eddie grimace. Jesus, try to be normal, Munson.

But the guy chuckles, his eyes crinkling in amusement. “Well, I– I need a bouquet that says ‘fuck you’ in a passive-aggressive way,” he says, his eyes flickering nervously over Eddie’s face.

“That’s it?” Eddie asks with a snort. “Because I promise you, man, that’s not the weirdest thing someone has asked for.”

The guy’s eyebrows shoot up. “No?”

“Nope,” he says, leaning on his elbows and gesturing at the guy to come closer like he’s sharing a secret. “One time a guy came in and asked for a flower arrangement to apologize for breaking into a home.”

A disbelieving laugh tumbles from the guy’s lips. “What? Really?”

“Yup. That was the first time that a sale ended with me having to talk to the police,” Eddie says before pursing his lips. “Actually no, that’d be when I used to deal weed in high school.”

The guy lets out a loud laugh, scrunching his shoulders in a way that has Eddie melting against the counter. Pretty, hot and cute. That can’t be fair. “Well, I doubt my bouquet will involve any police investigation.”

“No?” Eddie asks, narrowing his eyes. “You’re not planning on murdering whoever you’re giving it to?”

The guy’s nose scrunches up. “God, I wish, but no, this is just for my own amusement.”

“Good thing I happen to be in the business of amusing pretty guys,” Eddie says, shooting him a flirty grin, getting all up in his space until the guy’s eyes widen and Eddie pulls back. “Uh, customers! I meant customers, Jesus.”

Luckily, the guy seems far from bothered by Eddie’s flirting. In fact, his eyes sparkle with something that looks suspiciously like interest, his cheeks turning pink.

Most times when Eddie has to put together an arrangement he asks the person to check out the shop while he goes to the work table they keep in the back, but he really doesn’t want to waste a moment with this guy so he says fuck it and starts working on the bouquet right there on the counter.

He can feel the guy’s eyes watching him curiously.

“If you don’t mind my asking,” Eddie starts, breaking the silence after a moment. “Who is this going to? Cheating girlfriend? Asshole boss? Shitty family member?”

He glances up just in time to catch the guy staring intently at Eddie’s hands as he works. When he feels Eddie’s attention on him, his head snaps up, the color on his cheeks deepening.

“Uh, no– no cheating girlfriend. No girlfriend at all actually,” he says. Then after a short pause, he adds, “no boyfriend either.”

Eddie almost drops the shears. It has to mean something that the guy wants him to know that, right?

Before Eddie can reply with something stupid like ‘good, do you want one?’ the guy keeps talking.

“You were right about the other two, though,” he says. “My shitty father is also my asshole boss.”

Eddie grimaces at that. Wayne is his dad in all ways that count and working with him isn’t bad, but for a second he entertains the idea of having to work with his father instead and already he’s convinced he’d need a couple of ‘fuck you’ bouquets too.

“Our firm is throwing him a party for signing this big company but they don’t care about how many people he had to fire for that to happen or how many of those so-called business trips he spent cheating on my mom,” the guy explains and Eddie lets out a sympathetic whistle.

“Fuck, man. That’s definitely shitty.”

The guy shoots him a tiny smile. “Yeah, and since I’m expected to attend, I thought I could at least get some enjoyment out of it.” He points at the flowers that Eddie is carefully selecting. “This seemed like a better idea than, like, sabotaging his party.”

Eddie lets out an amused snort. “Yeah, that’s probably smart.”

They fall into comfortable silence with the guy staring at Eddie while he works. This time it’s him who strikes up a conversation.

“So, uh, Eddie,” the guy starts, squinting his eyes to read the name tag on his shirt. “I’m not like, telling you how to do your job or anything but isn’t that a lot of orange and yellow? Aren’t those happy colors?”

“Actually, these orange lilies symbolize hatred,” Eddie explains. “And the yellow carnations symbolize rejection and disdain.”

The guy’s mouth falls open in an ‘o’ shape. He leans on the counter and picks another one of the flowers that Eddie has spread out on the counter. “What about this one?”

“Foxglove. They can represent insincerity and deceit.”

The guy nods along as Eddie continues to explain the meaning of every flower he has picked, his eyes sparkling with interest. Flower language is one of the many things Eddie could ramble about for hours, but people usually don’t care enough about it to hear him out. But this guy is listening intently, his chin resting on his hand as Eddie talks.

“And what does that mean?” He asks, pointing at the greens Eddie picked for filler.

“Nothing, that’s just greenery.”

“Oh,” the guy chuckles, ducking his head with an embarrassed little smile. “You– uh, you know a lot about flowers, man. How long have you been doing this?”

“Since I was a little kid,” Eddie says, carefully arranging the greens. “My uncle owns the shop so even before I came to live with him I was helping out here. My dad wasn’t around much, he used to drop me off all the time so Wayne started teaching me how to take care of the flowers, how to make arrangements. Now I also help him with deliveries and stuff.”

“Do you like it?”

“Yeah, it’s nice. I've always liked flowers. And I like doing things with my hands,” Eddie says, wiggling his fingers with a smirk, watching as the guy’s eyes follow the movement.

“They’re good. Your hands,” he says, the color rising on his cheeks when his words catch up with him. “I mean, they look good. What they’re doing looks good.”

A pleased grin stretches over Eddie’s lips. “Thanks, big boy,” he says, grinning wider when the guy’s breath hitches.

“Uh, Steve. I’m Steve.”

Eddie thought he’d have to come up with an excuse to ask for his name, some bullshit about needing it for the receipt, but he’s glad he doesn’t have to now. “Well, Steve, any preference for the wrapping?”

“Um, no. You pick.”

“Alright,” Eddie says, grabbing some green wrapping paper and tying it neatly around the bouquet with a red bow. “All done.”

Steve grabs the bouquet with an awed smile. “It’s perfect. So pretty that no one will know I’m telling my dad he sucks.”

“I aim to please,” Eddie says, grinning smugly.

Steve chuckles, reaching into his jacket for his wallet and sliding a card across the counter. Eddie rings him up as slowly as he can get away with, not wanting Steve to go yet.

By the way Steve lingers after Eddie hands his card back, maybe he doesn’t want to either.

“I should go, let you get back to work,” Steve says eventually. Eddie tries not to look too disappointed. “Thanks, Eddie.”

“You’re welcome, Stevie. Good luck with your dad.”

Steve makes a face but thanks Eddie again before turning around to leave.

When he’s almost at the door, Eddie impulsively calls after him. “Steve, wait!”

Turning around, he raises an eyebrow at Eddie.

“You– uh, you forgot something.”

“I did?”

“Yeah,” Eddie says, plucking a red rose from one of their leftover Valentine’s Day bouquets and ducking under the counter to catch up with Steve by the door. “This.”

“For the bouquet?” He asks, tilting his head.

“No, for you,” Eddie says, “on the house.”

Steve’s eyebrows shoot up. “Do you give roses to all your customers?”

“Only the pretty ones I really want to see again.”

Steve smiles, finally reaching for the rose. “Well, then,” he says, winking. “I’ll see you, Eddie.”

Eddie grins. “Bye, Steve.”

***

The bell above the door chimes and Eddie pauses his pruning to greet the new customer.

“Welcome to Munson’s Floral Treasures, what can I do for– Steve!” He cuts himself off when he recognizes him, a too big grin appearing on his face.

Steve grins right back, offering a small wave. “Hi, Eddie.”

Out of the corner of his eye, Eddie can see Wayne glancing at them over the shoulder of the old lady he’s currently helping. Eddie knows he’ll have to explain to his nosey uncle why he’s on a first name basis with a customer and why he’s so happy to see him, but he’ll worry about that later.

“You’re back,” Eddie says, turning his attention back to Steve. It’s been a week since the first time he was here and Eddie would be lying if he said he didn’t spend his days glancing wistfully at the door every time someone came in hoping it was Steve. “Here for another ‘fuck you’ bouquet?”

Steve chuckles, following Eddie to the counter. “No, I’m here for something else.”

Eddie ducks behind the counter, resting his elbows on the surface. “Another weird request?” He asks, playfully waggling his eyebrows.

“You tell me,” Steve says, copying Eddie’s position on the opposite side of the counter, leaving their faces only inches apart. Eddie gulps, heat rising to his cheeks. “I need you to deliver a bouquet for me.”

“That’s pretty standard for a flower shop, Stevie,” Eddie says, cocking his head in amusement. “But sure, whatcha need?”

“A bouquet that says ‘do you want to go on a date with me?’”

Eddie blinks, trying to make sure he’s not imagining the little smirk tugging at Steve’s lips. “Oh, um, of course. We can do that!” He says, his voice an octave too high. “What’s– what’s the address for the delivery?”

That smirk turns into a full-on grin. “Oh, that’s easy,” Steve says, leaning even closer. Eddie hopes Wayne is too busy with the old lady to see what’s happening or he’ll never hear the end of this. “Munson’s Floral Treasures– ever heard of it?”

Eddie’s stomach flip-flops wildly. “You tryna ask my uncle on a date, Stevie?” He teases, barely able to keep the giddy smile off his face. “He might be a little too old for you.”

“Maybe,” Steve shrugs, walking his fingers on the counter until they’re brushing against Eddie’s arm. “But I think his nephew might be perfect for me.”

Eddie’s knees go weak from Steve’s words and his featherlight touch on his arm. “I think you might be right,” he says, biting his lip.

Steve’s eyes flicker down for a split second. “So, you’ll send that for me?”

“Yup. Happy to.”

“Great.” Steve grabs a pen from the counter and writes something down on the notepad where they take orders. “Here’s my number. You know, so you can let me know how the delivery went and what the answer was.”

Eddie nods, and with a wink, Steve turns around and leaves.

As soon as he walks through the door, Eddie grabs his phone and dials Steve’s number. He watches through the window as Steve stops and digs his phone from his pocket, a smile twitching at his lips as he brings it to his ear.

“Hello?”

“It’s a yes,” Eddie says eagerly.

Steve peers through the window and shoots him a lopsided grin. “Yeah?”

“Mhm.”

“So can I pick you up on Friday at 7?”

Eddie forces himself not to let a happy squeal or punch his fist in the air because Steve can see him. “Yeah, that’s– that’s good.”

“See you on Friday then,” Steve says, hanging up and waving at Eddie through the window before he disappears down the street.

As soon as he’s gone, Eddie breaks into a grin. He gets weird looks from Wayne and the customers that come in throughout the day but it hardly matters. He has a date to look forward to.

[hellsquills]

I think he'd have the most impressive and unexpected list of languages ever

BIG rant ahead this got too out of hand lol

He knows how to speak fluent Spanish because of the time he spent in Latin America, and he has the weirdest combination of insults from every country that he uses interchangeably (he learns which accent and expressions belong to each country so he doesn't sound like such a gringo).

Italian is easy enough. Not only because it's very similar to Spanish, but also because New Jersey is the "Little Italy" of the US (LOADS of Italian descendants there). He knows a good bunch of words, and he can hold his own in a conversation.

French is tricky but it's great for business. Idiots will buy anything that sounds luxurious and pretentious, and nothing screams that louder than French words.

Brazilian is also similar to Spanish, and even though he never went to Brazil, he loves the culture. He meets some Brazilian people at underground dancing shows and learns some words, as well as a good few moves.

Back in the US, he works as a smuggler on the southeast coast, and he gets the chance to learn a few words from sailors all around Northern Europe. Norwegian, Icelandic, Finnish, Swedish... He barely knows any words, just the absolute basics, but he's able to tell them apart.

He learns the rest by living in the streets and sporadically meeting people.

He learns some Asian languages through the food first, since they have very good dishes with surprisingly cheap and easy-to-steal ingredients (rice becomes a big part of his diet since fast food is getting increasingly more expensive), and after that he learns some martial arts terms that he uses in pit fights

He learns some Slavic vocabulary from some girls he used to work with, even though none of them lasted too long (mostly Russian, Polish and Romanian)

He learns German from a mechanic he did some work for, who used to work at a car factory back in Düsseldorf

He learns Darija from a Moroccan restaurant in Georgia that would give him whatever scraps were left at the end of the day because he stole a nice pot for them once

He learns Farsi from some guys who had a car washing business and would let him sleep in their garage during bad winter nights (he worked as a car washer for free in return)

He learns some AAVE from a group of drag queens who regularly performed at the bar he worked as a bouncer for (and taught him how to do drag)

He learns some American English Sign Language from a guitar player in that same bar and their sister, who was a drummer

He also knows the military alphabet (from Shermie) and morse code (which he used with Ford while taking exams together and when their father demanded absolute silence)

Now let me make this clear: the last language book Stan picked up was back in high school. He barely knows how to write most of these languages, safe from Spanish and Italian(ish). He's learned by hearing and is able to differentiate accents, but he can't maintain a full conversation in most of them. He can, however, guess where someone is roughly from just by proximity to the languages he does know.

Additionally:

When Stan loses his memories, he has trouble remembering Spanish, and it fills him with dread, even if he doesn't know why. One day, after a bad nightmare, he wakes up only speaking in Spanish, and Ford doesn't know what to do. Luckily, he knows the young man that works with Stan speaks the language, and so they find a way to communicate until he comes back to his senses.

This happens a few times, each time with a different language. Ford misses the automatic universal translator he lost in Dimension 72TF-0. They learn how to use the text to speech on Google Translate for these situations.

Ford is really impressed with Stan's knowledge. He always knew his brother was good with languages, but he loves seeing him in action. He now has another reason to disprove Stanley when he says he's dumb; no, he isn't, because he's both street smart AND book smart.

Despite being good at languages, Ford is better at learning new slang lol. Stan gives up trying to understand the kids' weird words and just nods along.

What if Stanleh had spent more time in non-english speaking countries? Like he ends up knowing English but it's broken and unused? His main language is Spanish and he knows a bit of other Latin languages- then you get to his English and it's heavily New Jersey pre-school

[suzukiblu]

Day four of February’s second weekly WIP behind the cut; “mistaken identities and interdimensional refugees”. (( chrono || non-chrono ))

“You ran really fast, like I’ve never seen anybody not a Flash run that fast, like I think you might’ve actually been faster than Jai and Irey and like my dad just flies when he’s moving that fast!” Jon rambles, kicking his feet against the bottom of his seat and seeming excited again, and Kon doesn’t really have the heart to interrupt him. The kid doesn’t seem as freaked-out or scared as he did before, so if spending the drive raving about watching a giant croco-dude get his shit rocked is enough to distract him from worrying about what’s going on, Kon’s not gonna cut him off. 

Just it’s–weird, kinda. The version of Jon he’s used to is a much quieter, more reserved guy, and he’s never known the dude well enough to figure out if he’s holding back or masking his reactions or if he’s actually just like that. The whole “volcano-trauma” thing would imply the former, but Clark doesn’t even seem to think Jon’s all that fucked-up from it, so, like . . . maybe he was quiet like that as a kid too? 

Or maybe, like, Clark is once again totally failing to see somebody else in an “S” being, like . . . fucked-up and needing help themselves for once. 

Not that Kon would know anything about that, or anything. 

Like, definitely Batman’s version of you don’t get to fuck up in this line of work is a lot harsher-looking, and definitely it’s not soft by any fucking stretch of the imagination, but it sure as fuck was a day when Kon’d first had the thought that Batman expects the other Bats to live up to standards that he’s spent weeks and months and years personally teaching them, and Clark kinda just . . . expects other Supers to be up to Superman-standards, but not in a way where he really ever, like . . . taught them those standards. Like–they were just supposed to fucking know, apparently? Like that’s a thing they all just came pre-installed with no matter how they got made or where they grew up? 

Also, Clark literally never taught him a fucking thing about his powers, and not really Kara either as far as he knows, and sure as shit didn’t give Kenan or even Mae and Linda back in the day all that many tips or whatever, and it’s like . . . at least Batman fucking tells people what he expects. Like, mostly, anyway. Batman has fucking dossiers of what he expects.

Maybe Jon got that, though. Got–told shit. Like, found out what the fucking standards actually were before they were immediately relevant or it was already too late or they were getting a disappointed lecture over shit they hadn’t known even mattered, much less mattered enough to be a fucking problem. 

Or like, how literally any of the goddamn Kryptonian powers worked. 

There’s a reason that Kon runs like a speedster; a reason that a very significant chunk of the fighting techniques and tactics that he knows are Greek or Bat in origin, if they’re not either Cadmus-uploads or tips he got from Guardian when they were working together back in the day. 

Or, like, that he got from Knockout, but “yeah I think that throw came from Granny Goodness” is, like, not a conversation he’s ever wanted to have with anyone. 

There’s also a reason that most of the shit he says that people assume he got from Superman he got from Ma and Pa in the, like . . . two lousy years he spent getting in their way at the farm, not Clark. Mostly he doesn’t repeat the “lessons” he heard from Clark, because he doesn’t like remembering how shitty he felt hearing them and really doesn’t wanna make anyone else feel that shitty either. 

It’s whatever, anyway. The League doesn’t really cross the streams or whatever, but the Titans have learned a little from each other, and Young Justice has learned a little more from each other. That’s all. Comes from, like, actually growing up together or whatever, he’s always figured. The Leaguers didn’t team up ‘til they were all real stuck in their ways, and they built the League around those ways, pretty much. And like, whatever, they’re the greatest heroes on the planet. 

But also if somebody told him he had to pick a speedster for a stealth mission, he’d definitely pick Bart or Wally over Barry Allen. 

Kon is really letting his brain run off on a fucking tangent here, but in his defense, it kind of feels like self-defense right now. It's think too much about shit he can't change and never could've or it's think about a version of Jon grinning up at him like he's the coolest thing he's ever seen, like he's–like he–

The kid thinks he's his fucking dad, Kon reminds himself harshly. He doesn't know who the fuck he is. Hell, he apparently doesn't even have a version of him in his reality. So like–obviously he thinks it's cool to see his “dad” fist-fight a crocodile dude in the middle of a fucking interdimensional crisis. Like–obviously, yeah. Very much so obviously. 

He's not seeing . . . anyone else when he sees him. 

Anything else. 

Like–the kid's just seeing his dad. Not his . . . anything else. 

Well, his own Jon doesn't see him as anything else either, so that's pretty SOP either way.

[imsofreakingtired]

sevika x korean reader

(aka the most self indulgent hc list i will ever write that probably no one will read lol)

compARING HAND SIZES AS FLIRTING DFKJDSKDJ

south korean beauty standards are rough as hell. sometimes you get insecure about the shape of your face, your nose, and wonder seriously if you should get plastic surgery. when you tell her, she takes your chin in her hand and tilts your face up to look you in the eye. "the face you have now is the face i fell in love with. don't change it."

you whisper all your deepest feelings to her in korean so often that she understands and replies “i love you too” in accented korean and instead of giggling you correct her pronunciation to tease her (your heart's melting on the inside) "it's NA-DO SA-LANG-HAE." "bitch-- i tried."

you call her “sevika 오빠” (oppa, “older brother”, the korean equivalent of “daddy”) when you’re feeling coy and want to make her flustered, but usually “언니” (unnie, “older sister”, affectionate term a younger woman uses for an older woman)

other things you call her in korean: "네 강아지" (my puppy) "멋있어" (handsome) "자기야" (babe) "바보" (dummy) (your favorite)

you never do aegyo to anyone but her, she pretends to hate it but always snickers when you pull the "pretend to get something from your pocket and shoot her with a hand heart" move

you teach her every conceivable korean curse word and she memorizes them at a genius pace. whenever she drops something or burns her hand you hear her whisper “ssibal” (fuck) in the most perfect non-accented korean and you lose it every time

taking long walks beside the han river, watching the cars pass by on the bridge and the glimmer of seoul 

picnicking in the mountains and feeding her kimbap (she will not eat it unless you hold it out to her like she’s a little kid)

she’s also obsessed w shin ramyeon like every time you go grocery shopping she just throws like three packs of those spicy instant noodles into the cart 

she also loves kbbq and insists on grilling the meat herself because she supposedly knows the “secret” to making perfectly grilled samgyeopsal

if she's drunk enough on soju she will consent to you dragging her into a private karaoke room. she sings like a professional but claims to remember nothing the next morning, so you desperately wish you had recorded her.

she will never be caught dead taking one of those cute couple pictures at touristy locations but when you ask her to take pictures of you she takes the job as seriously as if she’s a professional photographer

you manage to drag her into a photo booth once. just once

she tries on men’s hanbok and OH MY GOD 

the neighborhood kids love her like they jump around calling her “sevika 이모” (ee-mo, auntie sevika) and want to hang on her arm and tell her to flex her arm to feel the muscle, they follow her around and she sometimes gives them melon candy if she happens to have some in her pocket

swears she does not cry at k-dramas. she cries at k-dramas. 

also swears she does not like k-pop songs but then you hear her playing "antifragile" while working out

CAFE DATES CAFE DATES 

once had to hold you back from beating the absolute shit out of a guy who said a racist comment to her. you beat him up anyway. 

figures out the complicated-ass subway system after two tries. this amazes you to no end. she knows exactly when to get off and where to transfer trains even though every announcement is in korean or japanese. 

on rainy days: she holds the umbrella as you walk down the backstreets of seoul, watching the water slide off the leaves and listening to the lonely calls of cicadas, your arm wrapped around her waist, leaning on her shoulder.

...yea,,,, sevika x korean reader....... ...

divider by @cafekitsune !

[sdmnpact]

Heyyyy can you plz do a fan fic of George Clarke x reader where they look after the readers little cousin for the day and they go out to different places

Day Out.

George Clarke x Reader ff

~~~

Are we still on for today? 😘

You received that text from your boyfriend George Clarke, you love the boy to pieces and today you two had a whole date planned. He had spent so much time planning such a lovely day out for the two of you. Unfortunately or maybe not so unfortunate your aunt had just asked you if you could babysit your cousin.

As much as you would love to go out with George, you know your aunt needs your help and of course you love your cousin so you couldn't resist seeing them.

Sorry baby, my aunt needs me to watch my cousin, y/c/n. Remember them? Raincheck?? 🥰

You sent back. You were hoping he wouldn't be upset by this as he knows how much you love your little cousins. You looked at your phone screen as bubbles appeared then disappeared repeatedly.

What if we take them along with us? 👀

You didn't hate the idea. Your cousin hasn't met George yet and you don't know whether they'll be fine with it or not but who knows maybe it'll be better than you think.

Alright then xx

>>>

"Okay now, his name is George and he's a really nice guy, I think you'll like him." You explained to y/c/n who was hesitant on meeting this guy. You looked in the rearview mirror to see them still slightly discontent with this situation but you know that once they meet him, they'll love him.

You finally arrived at George's flat, calling him to come out. He came out with a backpack on holding a small plushie. You narrowed your eyes, wondering where he pulled that from. You watched at he walked up to the back window.

"Hey there." He said waving the plushie in y/c/n's face. You saw their face light up as they reached for the plushie as George smiled widely. He gave the plushie to them as they laughed happily. You 'awwed' at the sight watching as he got into the car.

"That was sweet." You grabbed his hand. He leaned forward and gave you a small kiss on the cheek. "Well, I'm only sweet." He winked at you as you let go of his hand and rolled your eyes. He laughed as you began driving. "So where are we going anyways? Shouldn't you be the one driving?" You said driving aimlessly. "Well it isn't that far from here, I'll drive after this." You nodded as he pulled up the maps on his phone.

You finally arrived at the destination, an outdoor mini golf course. "Mini golf? Is this what you had planned for us?" He nodded smiling from ear to ear. "Only the finest for ma' lady." He is such a dork, but he's your dork.

All of you went up to the putting booth and grabbed your equipment. Y/c/n seemed so happy to be there. "Yay golfing!!" They shrieked as they ran to the first hole while you walked side by side with George. "They're so cute!" He gushed as you grabbed his arm. "I know, they're just like me" You batted you lashes at him as he playfully shoved you off.

"I'm gonna beat both of you!" Y/c/n shouted grabbing the club in their tiny arms. "Is that so? Well, I'm the golf master!" George said getting his club ready. You chuckled to yourself as you watched them playfully fight with their clubs.

"Okay, settle down, let's do this."

You know George is a big softie but you've never seen him like this. When he's around children, he sort of turns into a big teddy bear. You watched as he would playfully tackle your cousin, hugging them in his arms or helping them putt when they couldn't get the angle right.

You couldn't even concentrate on the actual game but rather George's interactions with y/c/n.

"Y/N! It's your turn!!" Y/c/n shouted at you as you were caught up watching George.

"Distracted, are we y/n?" George smirked. You shot him a little glare but sent a cheesy smile to your cousin.

You set yourself up for the shot, taking your sweet time aiming the putter.

"Any day now" George teased as you just shook you head, finally striking the ball, getting a whole in one.

"Was that good enough for you?" You said a bit sassy, swishing your hair at him. He playfully rolled his eyes coming over to grab your waist.

"You're actually really annoying" He towered over you, the breeze sending a whiff of his cologne, you basked in his musky scent.

"You're one to talk, so obsessed with me." You chuckled lightly pushing past him.

The three of you continued your game of mini golf, with y/c/n taking first place at the will of George who you watched purposely throw the game so your cousin can win after you explicitly told him not to. Of course that meant you got second place and you couldn't not rub it in his face.

After mini golf, George planned on having a picnic for you two at a botanical garden but since your cousin has gone along, he decided a park would be more suitable.

You guys arrived at the park and found a nice spot on the grass underneath a giant oak tree.

He laid out a large blanket, unpacking all the food he had packed for you guys. Sandwiches, crisps, fruit, juice, gummies. He had packed a whole meal for you lot and you couldn't have been more appreciative of the thoughtful man that sat in front of you.

"Here you go baby, just how you like it." George laid out a plate in front of you filled with your favorites.

"You're so ridiculously sweet." You teased, pinching his cheek making him blush a bit.

You watched as your cousin went off to play on the playground. "Be careful!" You shouted making sure they don't injure themself.

"Calm down, mom, I think they'll be alright." George chuckled taking a bite of his food.

"I just wanna be cautious, if there is one scratch on that little head, my aunt will have my ass on a swivel."

"Don't worry, everything will be fine." He reassured, getting closer to you. He sat behind you, wrapping his arms around your body. He planted a soft kiss on the top of your head.

You sat there for a while in his arms watching your cousin play on the swing set. "You fancy having one, one day?" He asked you suddenly making your eyes go wide with shock.

You have been dating for quite a while now and seeing as basically all your mates are having babies, you can't say you haven't thought of having one with George.

"With who?" You joked earning a smirk from him.

"Of course, I'd like to have one, one day. I need to find Mr. Perfect first." You continued.

"What if you've already found him?"

"Then I'm the luckiest person in the world." You looked up towards him, the sunlight beaming through the leaves down on his face showing just how beautiful he is.

You enjoyed spending time with him, safe in his arms. You loved him deeply, and you made sure that you always showed him that.

After a while you both laid back on the blanket looking up at the clouds.

"Look at that one." He pointed out. "Looks like a heart. It's almost as big as the heart I have for you."

You looked at him and he turned to look at you. "I love you, so much."

"You know I love you with my entire being." He replied back brushing a loose strand of hair from your face.

You brought you hand to his face, brushing your thumb against his cheek. It was a moment of bliss. Just you two in this vast open world, without a care in the world except each other.

"Y/n!" Y/c/n yelled as you sat up, forgetting about them for a split second.

"What's up?"

"Can we get ice cream?" They asked pointing to the truck that pulled up near the playground.

"Of course, come on, I'll take you." George said standing up, grabbing their hand. "Get your usual babe?" You nodded as a reply.

He walked off with your cousin, hand in hand. Seeing George with a small child was making you go crazy with happiness. You know that he will be the best dad ever.

~~~

After you enjoyed your ice cream. you got a text from your aunt telling you that she was home.

"Your mom wants you home now? Shall we go?" You said brushing your cousin's hair.

"NO! I wanna stay with Georgie!!" They yelled grabbing onto his leg. "Aw it's okay, we'll see each other again, next time I'll plan a better day out for all three of us." He said picking them up.

Your cousin hugged him tightly, not wanting to let him go.

He walked like that to the car and placed them in the backseat.

You both got in the car and you began driving towards your aunt's house. George grabbed your hand, shooting you a toothy grin. You shook your head at him as you looked back towards the road.

You finally arrived and got out to greet your aunt.

"That's your boyfriend?" She asked as she walked up close to you. You two watched as your cousin said their goodbyes to George.

"Yeah, he's a sweetheart." You gushed.

"He's a keeper, make sure to tie that one down."

"Don't worry, I'll make sure to do that." George said holding y/c/n as he walked up behind you.

"Thank you and nice to meet you." She said taking y/c/n from him, shooting him a smile.

"Nice to meet you too." He said as she winked at you, walking back inside the house.

George grabbed your hand as he led you to the car, opening the passenger door for you.

"Thank you, but you're driving? Where're we going?"

"The night's still young."

---

A/n

This is such an adorable idea!! I hope you enjoyed it!!

[threepandas]

Bad End: Snake Bride

There were pudgy little yellow creatures everywhere, here. As common as squirrels, it seemed. They looked like squishy, somber, ditto-faced Pikachus...sorta? I made a note of it. Stopping to make a few sketches. Not that anyone here would ever get the reference, mind you. And they didn't have the iconic tail. More of a nubby little hamster tail?

I'd have to figure out a better description. For the bestiary. Not to mention a suitably cute name, assuming they weren't deadly, after all...

You never knew, with hidden realms like these.

Throughout my training, the other disciples and I had been beaten over the head with countless tales of "it looked cute/pretty/beautiful/holy/or otherwise harmless AND THEN TRIED TO KILL US. Do NOT make our mistakes! I will pull you from the jaws of death! Just to kill you myself!!" by our Shizun. The man could rant for hours.

He still couldn't let go that a glowing, flower patterned, butterfly tried to rip his throat out. And? Since he technically for them "first"? (As far as anyone can find.) He got to name then poor creatures.

Which is why, there exists a very beautiful species of highly deadly butterfly... called the "flying demon rat bastard spawn".

(God, I love Shizun so much. He is so, SO petty. Hilarious, vengeful, the man's the living manifestation of "target sighted". Man has beef with specific TREES for god sake. I wish I had HALF that kind of energy. Even if it DID get us banned from like... so many places.)

I tried to get a good look at the little guys mouth, seeing one yawn. Hmmm... the teeth suggest venom. Better not startle any of them... but NOT I'm gonna need to catch one to milk it. Great. They seem fast...

A knock out array? No. Need them to want to bite me, so I can get a venom sample...

Crouching, I mulled over the problem. Admiring the little creatures as the clambered up and down the strange flora of this realm. It was fascinating. Humbling, in a way. When, I considered that? No one else had DONE this before. I knew it for a fact. Every single reference to this hidden realm? Was from either the immortal who created it... or four hundred years later, the immortal who sacked the placed.

It was hard to get into, hard to find, didn't boast any supposed ten thousand year treasures or legendary beasts. Just? A humble pocket of life. Started and left to cultivate. Shift and change. Grow!

Who CARES what uses the creatures or plants have?! This place should be STUDIED! All these realms should be studied! They're amazing!!

I spot a moss I haven't collected yet and carefully take a sample. Noting it's location on the map I've started (which is a mess, I fear I definitely have no future there). Of course, as is so often the case? Finding one sample leads to another. Moss leads to "oh hey, a mushroom" to "is that bird or a leaf?" And so on and so on. I nearly forget to make camp.

(It was a bird. It just looked like leaves! Fascinating camouflage!)

Only noticing the light shifting qualities, drags me from my hyperfocus. A nasty (or, I guess, productive? For an immortal.) habit. I had lost days to it, before. Disappearing into the library or some work room, back on the peak, for time blurringly long periods of time. Inedia keeping me from hunger. Younger disciples bringing me tea.

There was a reason, after all, I never made Head Disciple. Even though I got along great with Shizun. I was about as responsible as a goldfish. Entirely too focused on my own studies, to be honest. But to be fair? Let's see YOU focus! When there is so much... I don't know, Xianxia bullshit?

(IS it Xianxia bullshit? Or is it Xuanhuan bullshit? Fuck. It's been a life time. I literally can not not remember. Let's see YOU remember the differences! After literal decades!!)

(God, I miss my books. And the internet. And TV. Honestly? I miss everything.)

Fuck! Side tracked! Again!!

Careful not to step on any of the marshmallow-y not-pikachus, I scramble to collect the last of my samples. Reach out with my Qi, to feel how the ebbs and flows around me shift. I should? Be able to sense any nearby predators. As well as posdibly find a nice qi rich spot to set up camp. Maybe meditate.

Just because I'm exploring hidden realms, doesn't mean I should grow lazy, after all! Whole point of cultivation it to ascend. God hood and all that. And, yeah, I'm still sceptical as fuck. But... count me curious. Why not try?

Oooh! That's a nice ca-! Hmmm?

Something... not-brushes against my senses. As though it should be there. I should sense something. An almost taste and nearly smell of... something? Someone? Kinda like the faintest hint of someone's cologne, lingering in the air, as you move through a crowd that isn't touching you. But... warmer. Like it's still on the skin. Not a lingering remnant from someone who passed through?

It's... weird. I can't sense anybody.

Maybe if I try harder? I pump more qi into my technique. More then is technically polite, honestly. But maybe they are farther out then I think they are? I hadn't exactly expected to be sharing space. This Realm isn't exactly BIG. Just a ring of mountains and the valleys between them. One big, lush valley. Many smaller ones.

Again, it's not a popular realm. Not to mention already looted. And not even particularly Qi rich. So meditating here would be a strange choice. But... maybe they want the relative isolation?

I still can't find them. Dispite knowing they are there. (That technique does not give false positives.) So I risk rudeness. Figure I can always apologize. Maybe they are deep in meditation or something? Pumping more qi, frankly appalling amounts, into the technique, I am damn near half blind as I walk. (For all that I can see better then anyone in this valley at the moment.)

The sensory input is cacophonous. Beautiful. Terrible. Like balancing atop a single hair thin thread. Suspended carefully, above a raging sea, made of wonderous light and churning pains. I use my foot steps to anchor me. Balanced and even. Yet... find nothing. Pull back.

Are they... hiding?

Why?

Up ahead it the qi rich cave (more an over hang, cave is generous) that I sensed. A good, defensible place to set up.

It's only as I'm setting up? That I notice the little Marsh-a-chus? (Is that a good name? I really do need to start thinking of a good name for them.) Have followed along. Crowd the trees and settle thick in various bushes. And... part of me? Wants to go "away, I made friends!" But...

The rest of me? Was drilled in horror story and horror story by my Shizun. And that's so mighty fine "unusual interest" behavior going on there. Might even go so far as to classify it as hunting behavior!

Mmmmhm! Don't like THAT! No sir! Time for some nice and cozy warding talismans! Shall we? The STRONG ones.

Under far too many beady little eyes, I slap down security talismans. Full three sixty. Against the ground, the stone, the mountain behind me. I am taking no chances. Just as I was taught.

Which... as I am settling in for the night? Dinner done and dishes drying. Sleeping mat, out and reading to go. Light and warmth talismans, positioned just where I need them? Turns out to be for the best.

Because there is something in the dark. Big. Predatory. And coming towards me.

It's not so large as to show above the trees. But that is small comfort. They are fairly large trees. And honestly? I know only too well, massive size does NOT indicate lethality. Sun turtles are mountainous after all, and THEY photosynthesize! The problem is? There wasn't supposed to be a predator that big in this realm.

Did someone fucking shove a spirit beast or monster in here!?

What? Out of sight out of mind?! No longer their problem, right!? Why kill it, when you can put it in a hidden real to LET IT GROW BIGGER! Destroy an ecosystem! MOTHER FUCK-!!!

The night is silent.

It should NOT be.

Gripping a sword I am only kinda decent at wielding, I pray to the gods, I don't have to use it. I am a spiritual cultivator! Not a martial one! This is BULLSHIT. I don't have anything on me for "unknow predatory mega-fauna" because there WASN'T SUPPOSED TO BE ANY! Oh, this is the LAST time I-!

Foot steps. Crushing through the underbrush.

Into the circle of light my talismans cast, fades a pale young master. Graceful and pale in the moonlight. Very... very pale in the moonlight, actually. No better in the light of my talismans. Near ghostly, in his white silks. Touches of pale gold and stark black. Curls of ink wash grey. Like a painting brought to life.

Just a touch too perfect. A touch too beautiful.

With a grace to his movements that... that is too smooth.

It's not until he all but stands in the light that I am certain. His hair. Too lovely and well kept, for it to be an accident or some sort of shaming. Those are NOT bangs. That is the entirety of it. Nothing held back, in a crown or subtle styling. No... no it is SHORT.

No Human Wears Their Hair SHORT Here.

Entering the light? His eyes reflect. Grey like blades. Like storms and death. No pretty silver things. No, it is far too deep a color. Far too dangerous. Slits, that contract with the light. Half hidden by a heavy expression, that I can not begin to interpret. I desperately try to identify the creature before. Feline? No. Lacks the savage edge. Too cool... serpentine. Snake!

"Like a panicked little mouse, honored cultivator. This one might begin to suspect you weren't happy to see me~" they...? He? Says; his voice a low, honeyed rasp. "But how can that be? When this humble servant has been hunting for so long?"

"Surely, my dear little mouse, has been anticipating this day~! Dreaming of the day when her lord would catch her?"

There is something... mean, in that tone. Vicious and victorious. The silent echo of a madman laugh, as he burns the world to ruin. Seizes and achieves all that he desires. Strangles all that he can not possess. Covetous and ugly. Dancing, dancing, dancing around the edges. Demonic, indeed.

Yet... I do not recognize this creature. This demon. He certainly recognizes me, as horrifying as that is. What past does he speak of? Hunting? What HUNTING?! I try to find something familiar, in this strange form. Unless, of course, he is simple insane? Not impossible... but...

"Ah~ my poor little mouse." The demon coos, mocking in his indulgence. His eyes still dance with laughter. Mad and unable to feast. "You don't recognize this poor servant, do you? How cruel! To be forgotten. A passing fancy, barely held, in my mouse's fickle heart."

He's laughing me. Knows I could not possibly recognize him, yet plans to punish me anyway. Somehow. Fuck! This seems genuine. But how? Why!? When would I have-!?

Then, he shifts.

Gone is the beautiful young man. In his place? Rising, rising, RISING? A behemoth of a bandy-wolf king snake. Black, white, with occasional bare traces of that pale gold on the under belly. Hundreds of thousands the times it ever should have been. But... but? There. A scar. Oh gods.

I recognize him now.

A snake got into the village I was born. Absurdly poisonous, unthinkably venomous, it should have been left alone. Gathered very, VERY carefully and taken far away from people. But... people panic. Get stupid. The adults didn't fucking listen. And over sixteen people died that didn't have too. I was sick at the sight of it. They captured the poor creature and were going to burn it alive.

For the crime of being afraid. Hungry. Getting attacked and then protecting itself.

I couldn't bear it. So... I stole it. Hid it in a cave, half way across the valley. Didn't my best to nurse the poor, injured, creature back to health. At least... I tried. The injuries were too severe. I was able to close the wounds. But sickness, blood loss...

Shit. That cave was incredibly qi rich. It's why I chose it! To make up for what I couldn't do! If he had already started cultivation and then... or just resented enough...

It was entirely possible to become a snake demon. Easily, even.

"Sss Sss Sss, ah, recognition~" the massive creature laughed "Why so fearful? Little mouse~ It's not you I want dead. Kindness for kindness, a debt for a debt. And aren't we be grown? Look how strong we've become!"

The booming, breathy cackle did not fit snake lungs. Silibant and painful. Hissing and near silent. It was more pressure in the air then anything. A madness long coming. As demons born of resentment energy tended to be. All burned villages and the screams of those who wronged them. Hatreds and obsessions made manifest.

I... I could barely breathe. Oh gods. Oh gods! What do I do? I.. I can't-!! Tears threatened to choke me. Fear, shaking my limbs and fogging my mind. W-what do I DO?! I'm scared. No. No, no, NO! Please! I'm SCARED!

"Ah~ so cute, so cute! My little mouse grew so lovely~"

Like the world sighing, as fluid and graceful as his steps, the snake became a man again. His grey tinted lips curled in a fang bearing smile. Hands up and braced against the barrier, his full weight leaning forward as he leered. He loomed. My talismans casting odd shadows across his face, giving the madness in his eyes a terrible glow.

"This husband truely did pick his trap well, didn't he? My sweet little mouse~" he purred, eyes unblinking, above a terrible smile. "My little wife has no where to run~! No where to hide! Her husband has trapped her quite cleverly, hasn't he~? Poor, poor, little mouse. Your husband is so mean!"

My heart felt like it was going to burst. Cold. T-trapped. Can't breathe! Oh gods. Is this a panic attack? I.. I think this is a panic attack! Can't think! Static. Legs, refusing to hold me. Sink. Crawling backwards. Away. G-got to get away! Trapped! TRAPPED!

I horror, I watch as he sinks his nails in to the barrier. Hands no longer resting, but digging into it. He-! He shouldn't be able to DO that! Oh gods! PLEASE gods! Tell me he's not strong enough to BREAK barrier talismans of this level! Please! PLEASE!!

"Ah~ acting this way, you make this husband want to bully you, little wife~♡ And ah, such big, fearful eyes~ Am I being mean? Is husband being cruel? Poor thing~"

CRACK.

In horror, I watch as his nail push through the barrier. Like driving stakes through stone. Cracks shooting from the holes, as he digs and digs. Hands closing around the shards he has created, ignoring the blood that spills from where it cuts into him. As the barrier itself whines and crackles in protect. Tryinging desperately to maintain its integrity. Slowly... cracking... failing...

"Let me kiss it better, hmm? No use in trying to run~"

"So be a good girl~♡ my little Mouse. Come to husband~♡"

[bosinclairsgff]

How the slashers celebrate Valentine’s Day with their s/o

Includes: Bo Sinclair, Otis Driftwood, Dale Kobble, Albert Shaw, Herbert West, Jack Torrance ,Amanda Young, Baby Firefly and

Warnings: Mention of kidnap and that’s all I think?

Bo would forget but Lester or Vincent would tell him like the day before to go get you a small gift or a box of chocolates. He’d get you one of those basic heart shaped box of chocolates and some flowers. That’s all. Which considering who he is I’d say it’s a win. Bo would let you think he forgot and when you are all disappointed he’d pull out the flowers and chocolate. Giving you a huge hug and a kiss. Then you’d watch a movie together. (Bonus: you two or probably going to pound town by the end of the night.)

Otis would make you some really weird card, made out of human skin or some shit. Kidding….kinda. I do think he’d make you something though. He likes giving you handmade things. No chocolate or flowers or anything like that. Handmade, weird and low key a threatening card. It’d say something along the lines of I like keeping you around, if you try to run I’ll kill you, happy love day.

Dale would hand make you a card as well! His would be pretty and still slightly alarming but in a cute way. He’d use those heart shaped doilies in some way with his card. Dale would for sure get you a nice big box of chocolates. No flowers, instead, he made you a little doll that looks like you. You guys would exchange gifts then listen to a vinyl and cuddle for the night. He wanted to make a meal for you but Ruth shut that down immediately. She doesn’t want him messing up her kitchen.

Well you are literally kidnapped and locked away in his basement…so going out for Valentine’s Day is not in the foreseeable future. He’s kept you alive this long so he clearly has some kind of feelings towards you. He wouldn’t comedown all day until later in the evening. Al would tell you he has a surprise for you upstairs. At first you’d be so nervous and scared. He’d reassure you that it’s a nice surprise not a dangerous one. When you get up stairs you’d see he made an actual dinner for you. Not eggs in sight, which you were thankful for. Also you’d spot a small heart shaped box of chocolates.

Herbert would get so caught up in his work he’d completely forget. The only reason he remembered is because he heard Dan talking about his Valentine’s Day plans. Herbert was never the romantic type. He does care about you though and knows you deserve a nice date. So he’d surprise you with a reservation at a nice restaurant then you guys would watch a movie together at home while snacking on the box of chocolates he got you.

Jack doesn’t care really. You guys are at the hotel so when he realizes it’s Valentine’s Day he’d just go to the kitchen, look for a chocolate bar, get some paper and write a sweet message then call it a day. He would expect to be thanked and be seen as some amazing partner.

Amanda would get you flowers and a small gift. She’d get you a necklace with both of your initials on it. A very sweet gesture to show she really cares for you. All she would want is to just lay down and watch you sleep. Eventually falling asleep to while holding you close to her.

Baby would be so excited for Valentine’s Day. She’d talk about it all the time and about how she’s gonna get you the best gift. Baby would plan a whole night out for you guys. First you’d give each other your gifts, then you’d have dinner, after that you’d go to the liquor store and gets lots of booze. She’d want to sit in her room, watching shitty movies and getting drunk together.

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Home Grown 1

Warnings: non/dubcon, stalking, and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

Characters: Cole Turner

This AU is called Watcher Anonymous and will include different series for different characters. This is our introduction to Cole and Eartha.

Summary: loneliness can drive one to desperate measures.

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging ❤️

Cole is tired. He's never really not. He spends all day on his feet, cleaning up some clog in the drains or fending off the pests in the fields. There's not much going on aside from the constant battle with the earth for his livelihood. His family's too.

Ever since his dad had a stroke, it's been on him to balance it all. His sister if off who knows where with who knows his name and his mom is looking after his dad. So it's all up to him to keep this place going. And it's all on her to keep him going.

The shame used to make him squirm. His skin would burn and his blood would boil. He'd close his laptop and mope, feeling bad for himself, calling himself weak. Then he'd open it back up and keep doing it. His persistence became indifference, Not to her. No, he only ever thinks of her. He just doesn't care if it's wrong because it makes him feel right.

That night, he's addled. His dad isn't doing well, his mom is worried despite efforts to hide that, and he can't get an answer from his sister. She said she'd come see them so he could spend more time working. Not that he really wants to.

He slips his phone into the little plastic pocket to protect it from the water. He balances it on the rack that hangs around the showerhead and he cranks the faucet to a steaming spray. He stands under it as he lets it wash away the tension and waits for the stream to buffer. It's taking a bit today but sometimes it happens. Out here in the farm lands, reception is spotty.

It's not working. He's lathered up by the time the error shows. Disconnected... Strange. Why?

He gives up with a sigh. The one thing he has to look forward to and even that isn't going his way. He'll give Jensen a call when he's done.

He rubs dry his hair as the water drips down his legs onto the mat. He looks down at himself then moves to face his reflection in the mirror. He's not an ugly guy. He's not being a narcissist, he just doesn't think he's that bad. He shouldn't be alone. Still.

He huffs and wraps the towel around his waist. He grabs his phone from the show and closes the curtain. He walks down the hall and locks himself in his room. His bars are full. He shouldn't be having issues with a signal.

He dials out and waits for Jensen to pick up. He does right as Cole expects to go to voicemail. He's whisper.

"Hey, dude," Jensen scuffs around.

"Busy?" Cole asks.

"Eh, sorta, just..." he clears his throat. "All clear now, bud. What's up?"

"Mm, well... you remember... that... feed. So, er, it's not working."

"Hm, and it's just on her laptop?"

"Yeah," Cole sits on the bed and chews his thumb. "All of a sudden."

"Did the error have a code?"

"Uhhh yeah, I think," he recalls the numbers as best he can.

"Device is either off or broken. Could be both. You could give it a few days and see," Jensen suggests.

"Sure, but, er..." A few days is a long time especially when they're so slow. "Yeah, you're right. I'll wait her out."

"Dude, trust me, I get it. Boss went out of town last week and I saw her pack her favourite toy," he purrs grossly. "Anyway, it's about that time for me."

The line clicks. Good. Jake kinda weirds him out sometimes. He drops his phone.

He'll be cool about this. He can handle a few days without watching her. I mean, she's a stranger. They've never even met. She doesn't even know he exists. So he can log off and touch grass, so they say.

~

The days pass in a torturous slog of dirt, pollen, and lonely nights. Cole is wound tight, ready to snap as he has a thousand things pulling at him at once. His mom wants to hire a nurse, his dad is getting aggressive with everyone, and his sister just convinced his mom to send her money they don't have. Worst of all, he's alone. He's not sleeping because all he does is dream of her.

As he cuts away the rot from the tomato vine, he catches the tip of his glove, just enough to pinch himself good. He curses as a flash of rage swells in him. He whips the clippers into the dirt and snarls. Goddamn it!

He paces back and forth angrily. He rips off the gloves and tucks them into his workbelt. He combs his fingers through his hair and prowls like a wild beast. He can't take it anymore.

He takes his phone out and calls Jensen. It takes two tries but he gets an answer. Not a happy one.

"Dude, I had to leave a meeting--"

"Feed's down," Cole interrupts. "I'm having a real bad day and I need--- I need it."

"Jesus, you sound like it. Hm, okay, you know her email?"

"Uh, sure I do," Cole says.

"Right, you know everything," Jensen laughs. "Come on, guy, let's not pretend here. We're all a bit freaky. So, I'll send you something. Don't click on the link, got me? You take that template and forward it to her. I'll include instructions so you can dupe the sender... she'll think it's some bullshit coupon redemption or whatever. She clicks on it, you got full access again."

"Really? That easy?"

"Well it all depends on her, doesn't it?" He snorts. "Alright, I'll get that too you when I can. Gotta go."

The call ends. Cole leans against the fence and sighs. He better follow through. Better yet, it better work.

[rosenclaws]

Valentines Day Blues || Worst!Logan x Reader

summary: Logan has never really cared about Valentines day until he met you, but despite his best efforts nothing seems to be working out for him.

warnings: angst to fluff, a little spice at the end but no smut, logan's self doubt and slight anger issues, happy ending.

wc: 2.8k

a/n: This is my entry for Loveuary event by @lubdubology and @yxtkiwiyxt! I had pick worst logan my love and add some angst bc I love angst but it all works out for our boy <3 Happy (Early) Valentines day guys!!

Sometimes Logan wonders why he even tries anymore. It's like the world is out to get him specifically. All he wanted was to plan one perfect day. Just one day where he can prove to you, to himself that he's more than a fuck up.

Logan has never really cared about Valentines Day. He's celebrated before. You know gone to dinner, to the movie, had a few hook ups. When he lived at the mansion he remembers the heart decorations and all the red and pink. The kids sharing valentines and watching them experience their first love. But thinking back on his long life there just wasn't anything about the holiday that stood out to him.

For Logan, things just never seemed to work out. Love wasn't his thing. He had lost the ones he loved. He hadn't thought about it, felt it, for years. It never even crossed his mind anymore. Too afraid of losing yet another lover. He went about his life, a shell of the man he used to be. A disgrace to the name X-Men and a monster parents tell their children about at night.

Until Wade showed up and everything changed. He's a hero now, well he's not a villain in the eyes of citizens. He'll take it. He could be free to live again, to make friends, enjoy life. To heal and live in memory of his fallen friends rather than run away from the pain. He doesn't think he'll ever forgive himself, but he can start by being a better man.

It's been so long since Logan felt love that he didn't even recognize it at first. He didn't understand why his heart beat faster, why he felt sweaty, why his stomach twisted and turned by just your mere presence. He thought it was something else.

Maybe you're a mutant and were using your powers on him. Maybe you had heard what he had done and decided that he wasn't worthy of redemption. He avoided you like the plague. Unable to shake whatever you were doing to him no matter how hard he tried. It wasn't until Wade slapped him on the back of the head and spelled it out in big bold letters.

He had a crush.

Logan just scoffed. A crush? That word...It felt so juvenile. A crush is something between two kids who stare at each other from across the classroom. A crush is small and innocent and Logan is far too old and far too worn to be crushing on Wade's friend. But he could only lie to himself for so long. It wasn't a crush. No that wasn't the right word.

He was in love. When he started creeping back into your life it hit him full force. Took him by the neck and shook him until it all clicked. He longed for your attention, to be close to you. To make you laugh, to watch you smile. He wanted to hold you at night, to hear your voice when he drifted off to sleep and to wake up the next morning with you by his side. He was utterly fucked.

It was funny really. Especially to Wade, I mean how clueless could a man be? You would think two hundred years of experience would mean he could pick up on these things. But Logan doesn't notice those things anymore.

He's so in his own head he never even noticed that you were mirroring his feelings. That the mere sight of Logan was enough to make you weak in the knees. That his laugh, as rare as it was to hear, was music to your ears. That you were heartbroken when he started to avoid you, anxiety filling your brain about why the man just couldn't stand to be around you.

Wade treated it as his own rom com. Making popcorn and watching the longing looks shared between the two of you. Except Wade wasn't a patient person and he wasn't trying to watch a slow burn where both of you refuse to talk. So he pushed you two together. Spilling both your secrets right in front of each other and walking away like he didn't just change your lives forever. But it worked. You had to give him that at least. Even if Logan really didn't want to give Wade any credit ever.

Logan remembers that night like it was yesterday. You took his hand, so nervous to look him in the eyes. He locked your fingers together, squeezing your hand softly and tilting your chin to look at him. Colossus passes by and using the man as cover he kisses you. He could hear a faint "Oh come on! What is this Disney Channel?" From Wade but he pays it no mind.

Since that day Logan has vowed to spend every moment being the man you deserve. You tell him that you love him but sometimes it's hard to believe. How could someone like you love a man like him? Your heart was too good for him. Too bright to be with a man who wasn't even sure he had a heart just a year ago.

But nevertheless you're still here and Valentines day is fast approaching. This is his chance to show you how much he loves you. To buy you the perfect gift and plan the perfect date. If he could do this, he could be just a fraction of a man good enough for you.

He wanted to make you breakfast. To dress up nice and proper for once with flowers in his hands. A picnic at the park. To watch the sunset together all wrapped up in blankets. A night time drive that ends in a passionate night.

But life has other plans.

The day starts with a broken alarm clock. Logan groans as he wakes up, reaching out for you only to feel an empty bed. He shoots awake, looking at the clock to see that it was well past breakfast time.

"Fuck!" He hisses as he throws the covers off and scrambles to the kitchen. To his dismay you're already awake and eating. His heart sinks, failure number one.

"Hi honey, how did you sleep?" You ask sweetly as you wrap your arms around his waist, sighing happily as you hug your boyfriend.

"Alright, I meant to wake up earlier than this." He mumbles as he holds you tight. He tries not to show his disappointment as he covers it with a smile. He still has his other plans, the day is just starting.

"That's okay, I'm glad you were able to get some rest." Logan huffs but nods along with you.

He pours himself a cup of coffee. He suddenly realizes to tell you something and pulls you back into him, kissing you fiercely. You squeak in surprise but melt into his embrace.

"What as that for?" You tease as he pulls away. Logan shrugs and kisses you again.

"Happy Valentines Day Sweetheart." He purrs. You giggle as he buries his face in your neck.

"Happy Valentines Day Logan."

"Now, I have the whole day planned so go get ready." His disappointment from earlier fading as he thinks about the rest of the day. "How romantic of you." You kiss his cheek and turn to go back to your bedroom. Logan smirks and gently slaps your ass as you walk away.

"Logan!" You scold him but he just grins wider.

"Sorry, couldn't help myself."

Logan packs the picnic basket as you get ready. He made sure to buy all your favorite things and handmade chocolate covered strawberries last night after you went to bed. Those were romantic right? The clock ticks by faster than he realized and it dawns on him that the flowers he ordered have yet to arrive. His phone buzzes and he growls as he checks it.

Of course.

A text from the florist shop that they can't complete his order despite the fact he ordered these weeks ago. Fuck. Well maybe he can grab something on your way to the park? No he can't buy them right in front of you. Plus what store even has flowers right now. Maybe he can cut a few from the neighbors garden. They won't miss a few roses.

"Logan? Everything okay?" He snaps out it and shoves his phone back in his pocket.

"Just fine sweetheart," His eyes land on you and he lets out a low whistle.

"You trying to kill me or something?" He says with a smirk as he takes in your outfit. Fuck you're perfect.

"This old thing? I just had it laying around." You joke.

You grab onto his belt and pull him into you, his lips capturing you in a hot kiss. His hands slowly slide up your body. You could get lost in this kiss forever.

A loud boom breaks you apart. Your heads whip towards the window and see the sky darken before your very eyes.

"You've got to be fucking kidding me." Logan growls as he lets go of you. Stalking his way to the window to see rain pouring down outside. There goes the picnic plans. He slams the window shut. Frustration taking over his mind.

"It's supposed to rain all day," You say as you check your phone. You notice Logan's mood turn sour and you start to get worried.

"Of course it is." He scoffs. Logan searches for something in his brain to fix this day. Maybe he can just drive out of the city and you can still go on a picnic or watch the sunset.

"Logan are you okay?" You ask softly. He grunts as his phone buzzes once again in his pocket. Wade's picture flashes up on the screen and it takes everything in Logan to actually answer.

"What."

"Hey so...I might have borrowed your car last night for reasons that are not important to you and well lets just say its going to be out of commission for a couple days k sorry gonna hang up before you process this bye love you!" Wade speaks fast and hangs up faster.

No breakfast, no flowers, no car, no park, no sunset. Just fucking great. He can't even do one fucking nice thing for you. Logan crushes his phone in his hands without even thinking. He's done, he just. He doesn't get it. Why can't he just do one nice thing for you?

"Logan!" You hurry over and try to comfort him but he just holds his hand up.

"What's wrong?" He just sighs, stands up and shoves his hands in his pockets.

"There are no plans anymore. I'm sorry." He says lowly. Disappointment seeping into his tone.

"I had everything planned, I had the perfect day. A day where I can just... you know what? Forget it. I don't even know why you bother with me anymore." He mumbles.

He ignores the calls of his name as he walks out the door and leaves. The rain soaks him right to his metal bones. He just sits on the grass. Letting the rain hit him. Dramatic? Maybe but he's defeated. Just. Purely defeated.

His inner thoughts swarm with attacks, the happiness he had hoped to feel was draining. Being replaced with self doubt that can only scream that he's not worthy of you, not worth the love.

"Logan you get your ass back inside right now!" Your voice cuts through the harsh patter of the rain. He turns to see you marching forward, your pretty clothes all ruined now as you walk over to him.

"Go back inside, you're going to get sick." Logan says with concern but you don't care.

"No, not until you talk to me." You say stubbornly. He huffs and takes off the jacket he had put on earlier to hold it above your head. Rain pelts his back but its stopped hitting you.

"It's nothing."

"Stop that! Stop shutting me out Logan. Look I know this is hard, that sometimes you get wrapped up in your own head. But that's why I'm here." You grab his face, making sure he can't get away from you. You don't know how many times you need to drive this into his thick skull but you will if that's what it takes.

"A bother? Do you really think I'm just putting up with you? I fucking love you, you idiot! I don't care about if the date is perfect or if you get me flowers or chocolate. I care about you."

"Everything got fucked up today sweetheart. Literally everything I wanted was ruined. Don't you think that's a sign? That the universe is trying to fucking tell me something?" You scoff and shake your head.

"Tell you what? Huh? What could the universe possibly tell you that I can't. I'm telling you right now. That you are the love of me life. I love our lazy mornings, the soft kisses, the movie nights, the way you make my day brighter and my stomach flutter. Fuck the universe. Logan, I'm right here." Logan does so much for you that he doesn't even notice.

He loves you and his love is more than enough. It bleeds into everything he does. The way he looks at you, how he talks to you, the pure love and adoration in his eyes.

"I wanted today to be perfect for you. I wanted to show you that I'm worthy of every part of you." He confesses.

You pull him in for a kiss. Not caring if he drops the jacket that was once covering you. You let the rain fall as your lips move passionately with each other. Logan groans as he wraps his arms around you. Your hands reach up to grab at his wet hair, pushing it back and running your fingers through it. His hands grip your waist tightly, pulling you impossibly close to him. Reluctantly you pull apart, needing to catch your breath. He's got this dopey smile, his eyes softening as you rest your hands on his chest.

"You idiot, you're already are worth that and more." You whisper. Thunder rolls through the sky and you tug on Logan's hand.

"Come on, let's go back inside. I don't need to find out if your metal skeleton attracts lightning." He chuckles but follows you back inside. After drying off and changing back into your pajamas he finds you trying to push the couch back.

"What are you doing?" He asks as he walks over and picks it up with ease.

"Show off." You mumble. You grab a blanket it and lay it on the floor.

"You wanted a picnic, so let's have one." Placing a couple pillows on the floor, you and Logan sit in your living room with the food he had packed earlier.

The sound of the rain hitting the windows was oddly peaceful. Your heart warmed at the sight of everything Logan had packed. He really put thought and care into this. You were practically in his lap at this point. His hands wanting to be on you at all times.

"Here," You lift a chocolate strawberry to his mouth and he takes a bite.

"Sweet, not as sweet as you though." He says with a cheeky smirk.

"Cheesy," You roll your eyes playfully. He chuckles, his thumb rubbing the side of your mouth where some chocolate was. His face softens, eyes brimming with an emotion you can't read as he stares at you.

"Hey, I love you."

You're the best thing that's ever happened to me. You're everything. I want to wake up next to you for the rest of my life. Logan feels it all, you're it for him. But he doesn't know how to say it quite yet, so he settles for I love you and hopes you understand how much he truly means it.

"I love you too Logan, more than anything." He presses a kiss to your cheek and peppers them down to your jaw. His teeth grazing your pulse point.

"There's still one more thing I had planned that we can do right here." Logan purrs. You giggle as he flips the two of you so that you're on your back, your head on a pillow.

"Oh really?" You tease as you slip your hands up his shirt.

"Happy Valentines day Logan." You hum as he nibbles on your neck.

It's not the day he had expected to have, but it's turned into one he'll never forget. Maybe this holiday isn't so bad. He smirks as he sits back on his knees, still in slight disbelief that you're his. You know what? The universe can suck it. Because he's happy and for once he won't let anything get in his way.

"Happy Valentines day sweetheart."

Here's to many, many more.

[these-detestable-hands]

It's been a bit since I've interacted with octopath so my stuff on these ships may be a little rusty but I'll argue for them anyway.

Castitio (Castti x Partitio)

Before the game even came out, I thought they'd be a silly couple. Lady who doesn't remember and guy bursting at the seems with kindness. I think they're got a neat dynamic, with Castti teasing him a bit but they get along and are friends. Some post canon hcs I have are that Partitio would help Castti set up an organization that produces medicine and teaches about it cause he loves her and he's got the funding anyway. Also I do think being exposed to the poison rain twice did stuff to Castti so I like to hc she's disabled post canon, being a wheelchair user due to muscle weakness, having very little lung capacity and CPTSD. Also not a disability but she has eczema-like purple splotches on her body. Sorry I needed an excuse to quickly mention my disabled Castti headcanons. While they're engaged, Partitio and Floyd work on completely renovating a house to accommodate all of Castti's needs, so like low counters she can reach while on her wheelchair, only one floor, wide doorways, blackout curtains so she can sleep during the day, etc. Castti keeps insisting that she doesn't need that much help and that she's navigating normal houses just fine but then she'd see all the accommodations in their new house and bawl for hours. She'd work less and take it easy post canon. Listen I just think they'd be a really cute couple. Castti patches up your broken arm then her husband comes in and starts cracking jokes and talking about affordable public transportation. I feel like I'm also forgetting a lot of stuff but oh well. I've got a few fics for them posted on ao3, account name: BigOrangeOnion

Ophikari (Ophilia x Hikari) (I also call them The Radiance (hollow knight reference and it makes sense for an au))

OKAY SO this ship started out as an au when the ot1 travelers were added to ot2 for that update last year. Basically, post canon, Hikari visits the arena whenever he's in Montwise. This time, he goes and there's some omega powerful warriors fighting ruthlessly and with no concern for themselves. He realizes it's because they've got some kinda of curse, similar to him with the shadow (I THINK that's what it was called).

So Hikari starts working on figuring out how to free them because their current existence seems miserable. The first he manages to free is Ophilia, by using light magic near her. The light magic makes her briefly remember who she was but it's enough for her to snap out of the mind control that she's been put under. She talks to Hikari and explains that her and her friends were mind controlled by a very weak but not quite dead Galdera, in attempts to conquer and gain more power so he could heal himself faster. So the two of them start working on freeing the other travelers together.

Along the way, they ofc fall in love. I don't remember an awful lot about them unfortunately but I implore anyone reading this to write stuff for them :]

Here's a little drawing I did of them together. I'd include Castitio drawings if I had any but I am not big on drawing ship art unfortunately.

H'aanit x Cyrus x Castti (in a QPR!!! :3)

So this is probably the one I've explored the least purely because I never really shared it with anyone. I keep it to myself because of the amount of hyper specific and sad headcanons. But basically it was an au where I'd just mix and match travelers n stuff. Like just putting different travelers in different continents with weird team compositions cause I'm a big fan of aus and crossovers.

One of the ones I liked the most is where Castti leaves Solistia by herself to explore post canon because she's not very close with the other travelers and self isolates a little. This au starts out kinda sad cause of the focus on my hcs for various characters' mental illnesses. H'aanit is initially traveling alone but Castti joins her and they're a relatively quiet but very effective and productive duo. Later, Cyrus, Olberic, Primrose and Ophilia join. They all have their problems to work through and get through them together.

Castti has to deal with self worth and realizing that she's more than just the team healer.

H'aanit has always had anxiety around losing Z'aanta, which is really bad throughout the entire story so Castti often ends up calming her down during panic attacks and they get really close because of the mutual trust there.

Idk exactly how to describe Cyrus' problems but he's really jumpy and nervous and a little bit angry all the time because of being accused of, y' know, sleeping with a student. Yeah no I never understood why Cyrus wasn't that angry about it, even when I first played the game at age 10.

I think Cyrus is just dealing with the new found rage he constantly has. He had anger management issues as a kid but worked through them and they're just now coming back cause he's been thrown out of his home and people he used to be friends with think the worst of him and he's got no one but this new friend group he hardly knows. You get it.

The story is the three of them (and Olberic, Ophilia and Prim, but this post is about ships so I'll talk about them another time) as they deal with their mental health issues. Through helping each other with these very personal problems, they become very close and eventually decide to be in a qpr together. I think they'd just live relatively quiet lives in S'warkii cause Cyrus is too upset to return to Atlasdam and Castti isn't too keen on going back to Solistia after falling head over heels in love with two people in Osterra.

I don't remember way too much for this au unfortunately. I think they should all cuddle and finally get a good night's sleep for once cause no way a single one of those bitches sleeps well with the crap they see and have experienced.

Sorry I wrote so much. Here is a little drawing based on an Olberic chapter 2 travel banter and the most important H'aanit fact.

I miss octopath yapping with people so uh yknow what! We’re gonna play a game!!

Explain in the notes what y’all’s favorite ships are and why you like them!!!

Only rules are

1) do not explain why everyone should think your ship is canon, as that is not the point of this post 2) do not put any other ships down bc that is also not the point of this post 3) ALL games are included (yes including cotc) 4) ANY SHIPS ARE ALLOWED!!! GO NUTS!!!!

[nox830]

"If you want someone that looks like a guy why not just get with a guy"

The way this comment followed me through the mundane aspects of life. Because with women it was never like how it was with men. I wanted the romanticized idea of men. What the men of the 50s would claim they were but could only pale in comparison.

No man ever made me take a step back without even touching me. The way her mundane words push me back in a comforting way. With her I see the traces of how she thi ks about me sprinked throughout her life.

No man has not only listened to whatever I said but remember it.

He remembered i don't like receiving flowers and valentines day.

She knows i do want to get flowers, that getting flowers on valentines for me feels like a waste to get something on a fabricated holiday.

She knows i want to get flowers so I can let them dry in between the pages of a book. That it had to be the random acts of kindness, not because she had to.

A man stopped complimenting me because I would always reject it, he said it was no use.

But she kept going, knowing I love hearing the compliments but have been hurt receiving.

In any relationship I have had I've seen that men hear but women listen. She will take the threads i spin and weave them into a beautiful tapestry rather than leaving it the knotted ball of string.

Every now and then she will do something that reminds she she is watching me. She is paying attention. I am not just some show to watch to pass the time but a story to find herself immersed in.

No man has ever done that. No man has listened as I tell the same story over and over again. Listening as if it was the first time. No man has embraced the peices of me i was afraid to show by finding a place for in within them.

But she has. I can feel her gaze on me, and it's light, it's safe. Her gaze takes me in a looks at all the little bits of me and saves every last one to memory. No man has ever smiled at my quirks the way she has.

She will mention things I never remember telling her. She wrestled on her free time because she knew that if she was going to cuddle me as we slept she'd need to hold me through the nightmares.

No man has waited for me to get use to them holding them door open. No man has listened as I wanted for hours on end even when they have had a long day. No woman has put hidden meaning within gifts, no woman has ever expected so much of me yet give so little.

But these traits I crave so much has been historically attributed to men. The man works to pay the bills and take care of the woman. The man opens the door for women. The man is chivalrous. I want these this not because it is what they should he hit because they want irz because they love caring for me as much as I love being cared for.

The dream of a woman's love has warmed me more than the presence of a man's love.

The gaze of a butch woman was made me swoon more than a man's touch.

When i feel the gaze of a masculine woman on me i feel safe i know she is memorizing every detail to know just how to hold me.

I recoil under the gaze of a man.

This is why I prefer "a woman who looks like a man"

[mixmxchi]

🍎Pinky Promise🍏

Caleb x Mc/Reader

TW: Planes, Kind of Lying But Really Just Forgetfulness, Not Really Proofread (that’s on me guys I’m sorry I’m eepy)

There was no way in hell Caleb had allowed himself to make the biggest mistake of your relationship thus far, or so he told himself as he ran into his fifth flower shoppe the mid morning of your first Valentine’s Day together. He was lucky enough that you got called in for an emergency brief over a break in your latest mission case that he had time to fix his ultimate screw up. When he woke up and found your blue heart shaped bowl of oatmeal you made for him with “I love you” written in dried fruits on top next to a beautifully written Valentine’s Day card he knew the damage had been done.

He had arrived only the night before after being away with his Fleet, the mission was a long and tough one. He hadn’t seen you for nearly three weeks and you both had very little communication, the only thing he wanted to do was hold you. So, after showering he is pretty sure he used his evol to hover himself over to the bed before slithering himself around you. Placing a kiss gently on your cheek, he peacefully went to sleep in the place where he belongs. You, however, were absolutely knocked out; you must have noticed him until morning. Which left him here.

“Good morning, Sir! How may I assist you?”, the florist asked. A gingerly old man who wore his age well slowly staggers from behind the counter wearing a vibrant sky blue dressing robe. His eyes, similar shade of purple to Caleb’s, but lit up in excitement at another customer and he offered a warm smile and a peppermint upon him approaching the counter.

Caleb nodded respectfully, “the biggest bouquet of roses you have please!”, failing at keeping the cool, calm, and collected spirit as he heaved to catch his breath.

“I’m sorry, Sir, but do you not know what day it is? I’m sold out of nearly everything. Balloons, Cards, Arrangements, the entire lot! ”, he rejected politely.

Caleb sighed, running a hand through his hair in frustration. “Ah- I see. That’s okay… Thank you anyway, uncle!”, he turned to continue his journey when he noticed a small arrangement of blue flowers left lonely on the shelf. They were bunched into a tiny candy apple red cylinder vase and have a white bow around it. Their little yellow centers peaked brightly through the vast sea of blue petals. “What is this one?”

The old man smiled, “They are “Forget-Me-Nots” only ever truly gifted to a rare, special person that comes around once in a lifetime. They are a sign of true everlasting love and a promise to always remember each other and the love you share no matter where life takes you.”

“I’ll take them.”, Caleb picks up the tiny flower arrangement quickly and goes to pay the man. His heart skipped a beat as it instantly settled on the arrangement.

“Hmm…”, the old man scans his gaze once overs him. “Are these for a lover perhaps?”

Caleb nods, “for my best friend, I know they may have no choice in where life takes us or how much they remember, but I want this to be a promise that I will always help them remember. A promise that I will love them through everything life has to throw at us, that there is no one else for me besides them.” He pauses for a moment, looking at his feet and shifting his weight as if a scolded child before continuing, “I also want to apologize for being a bad boyfriend and forgetting the simplest rules of getting them flowers on our first Valentine’s Day officially together. So I will pay double however much you ask.”

The florist smiles and reaches out a shaky hand to Caleb’s. For a moment he admires the thought of how despite time taking control of the man’s hands he finds the precise steadiness to create such beautiful pieces. He bends quickly, taking the elders hand firmly. A shaky exchange between the men before a small sigh escaped the old man which caused Caleb to meet his eyes which are soft and hide a depth of secrets. “Take them.”

“Huh?” Caleb must have misheard.

“Take them on the house. I, too, was a young soldier once. I know that look, my beloved other half made me love drunk the exact same way. Still to this day… just remember to keep this promise to your person okay young man? Oh, and if you think they are the one, let them know it. ”

Before Caleb could open his mouth to protest the man chuckles with a flick of his own fingers activated an evol and Caleb was outside the building holding the bouquet and the door was locked shut. The old man waved him off from inside. Caleb shouted a thank you and that he would return to pay the man some other time. Again, the old man laughed before shaking his head mumbling “young love huh?” And disappearing to the back of his store.

Caleb looked shocked at the bouquet in his hands before carefully sprinting home. Much to his surprise you both arrived at your apartment door at the same time. The chestnut colored door adorn with silver bells and a pink and red wreath stuck out amongst the neighbors with undecorated doors in the cream hallway. He quickly hides the bouquet behind his back. Praying to himself that you didn’t see him before he saw you.

“Hey babe.”, you tiptoe up and kiss the corner of his mouth. “Did you like your surprise?”

Caleb looked at you with nothing, but love in his eyes. “It was delicious, Pipsqueak. Matter of fact I think I recognize that porridge recipe from somewhere.” He quickly switched the hand the bouquet was in behind his back and lifted his left hand up to pinch your nose.

“You can’t blame me for learning your recipe, okay!”, you swat his hand away. He was acting a bit off, but you were honestly too tired to mention it.

“I was thinking we could go for a ride together?”, Caleb leaned back eyebrows cocked toward the ceiling as if trying to persuade you.

“I don’t know Caleb, I'm feeling a bit tired.”, turning to type in the passcode for your apartment. The panic set in his chest, if he let you open the door you would for sure realize the lack of him setting up anything for you and see that he is a bad boyfriend and if you saw he was a bad boyfriend you would want to break up with him and he didn't want that to happen he couldn't let that happen. His thoughts ran faster than his tongue could help him form words. Next thing he knew he was pulling your hand and leading you back towards the elevators. He was so wrapped up in getting you flowers he didn't realize he didn’t plan anything else. So he decided to do what he knew best. Flying.

“Caleb! Where are we going?!”, you struggled to keep pace up after him. Your combat boots loudly echoing with each growing step.

“We can sleep after. I promise,pretty please just come fly with me? Just one wrap around Linkon and if you are still tired we come straight home.”, his smile made the dull lighting on the elevator fade away. Your heart had no qualms, he seemed so excited it made you excited too. So you nod questioningly.

“On one condition…”, you pouted.

He paused before pressing the ground level button and waiting for you to continue.

“What's behind your back?”, you try and avert your gaze around your tall boyfriend knowing it would never work.

“Not telling you.”, he teased.

“Then I’m not going.”, you crossed your arms and turned away from him.

He huffs out in disbelief and presses the ground level button causing the elevator to start moving. Your lips pursed out exaggerated and eyes squished shut, you feel the heat of his body come up behind you as he uses one hand to cover your eyes. He brought his lips next to your ear, brushing it lightly as he spoke and it sent goosebumps down your spine.

“You’re a little snot. You know that? Ruining your poor boyfriend’s surprise… baby you wound me, buuuttttt because it is Valentine’s Day I’ll treat you nicely.” He places the bouquet gently in your hands making sure you have a good grip on it before letting your eyes go. Coincidently, you arrive at your location at the same time and he immediately claps his hands back over your eyes and laughs, “oops… too bad, Pipsqueak. Looks like you’ll have to wait.”

“This has to be impractical for you!”, You laugh as you feel him trip a little behind you as you enter the car garage.

“Keep it up and I’m putting you in arial time out and taking your flowers back-”, he stops himself short.

“You got me flowers?”, you coo in wonder trying to escape his hand.

“Damnit.”, he grumbles. “Look, just pretend you didn't hear that. No, I didn't get you flowers.”

“But-”

“Babe… please?”, he whined. He guides you into the passenger seat of his sportscar and buckles you. It smells freshly cleaned, which didn't surprise you as he rarely uses it. He only got it to help travel when he was with you in Linkon and even though you were allowed to use the beautiful bright red McLaren 750s, you much prefer your bike the association gave you. While he was walking around to his side you went to open your eyes to no avail. You couldn’t move at all for a few seconds. When you heard his buckle snap into place. “I felt that, you absolute brat. Trying to sneak a peek, always the troublemaker.” He smiles and deactivates his evol. “Go on Ms/Mr/Mx. Impatient” He pokes, fixes the bouquet for the last time in your hands.

You open your eyes slowly and see the wonderful ball of forget-me-nots. You turn to him and kiss his cheek hard. “They are gorgeous!”

“The… the old man said it was for a rare once in a lifetime person in your life. I never want to see a life without you in it.” His right hand came up and you nuzzled into it. “I love you baby, Happy Valentine’s Day, but dont fall for just the flowers… I have a trick just for you!”

“A trick on love day? Are you sure you don’t have the days confused?”

“Haha, Pipsqueak. Come on.”, He ruffles your head before speeding off.

__________________________________________________________________________

That’s how you got here. Heart louder than an 808 drum as you are strapped in gear sitting in between Caleb’s legs looking at the dashboard of one of his oldest planes. He has told you a million times that this one is safe, but the fact he drives it around you couldn't help but make your stomach do somersaults. He hit a few dials on the dashboard and was speaking to the airman guiding him to lift off. It wasn’t that you were afraid of heights or flying, just you never had been in one of his airshow trick planes before. Your hands found his thigh straps and he leaned forward putting his head on your shoulder. Even through your gear you could feel his heartbeat on your back. He does this for a living, how could he possibly be nervous too?

“We’ll be okay, trust me.”

“With my life.”, you hummed.

“For better or for worse?”, he suddenly asked using vows

“I do, Caleb. I always will.”, You sink back into him and take a deep breath as he starts his ascend. You closed your eyes until you felt his hand tap you gently telling you to look.

The sun was setting quickly on the horizon. The golden sun was kissed with deep purples, blues, and pinks as the orange was quickly fading through broken clouds. Up here Linkon seemed so quiet. Everyone and everything looked like ants. There were so many wanderers to worry about, no missions, no bills, no anything. Just you and him. There was no turbulence and you wondered if Caleb was using his evol to make the ride smoother for you. If he was you couldn’t tell.

“Hey… If you are scared I can just take us back down, babe. I don’t want to force anything on you. I can always show you another time, maybe have someone take a video how it looks from the ground?”, His eyes dancing between reading you and making sure he was on course.

“We can.”, you say determined. “I know you will keep us safe. I don’t doubt you my love, I trust you.”

“Then hold on.”, He quickly starts hitting buttons, he presses his headset to alert the person on the other end before shutting off his mic once more. You instantly grab your gear so hard your knuckles turn white and he squeezes you with his thighs as he guides the plane on a swift incline.

“You have to remember to breathe, Pipsqueak!” , he shouts over the engine , “If you pass out and miss it I’ll never forgive you! Took me months to get this right!” He prayed he would just actually get it right.

Next thing you know Linkon disappears and you both are flying through a cloud. Caleb pulls a lever and hooks the plane sharply upside down and swirls to a quick incline then a quick 45 degree decline. You squeal in excitement and as adrenaline rushes through your system waking you up more than any coffee ever could. Caleb places your hands on the steering wheel as he holds your noise canceling headphones slightly off, messing up putting something in your ears. You try to shake him off and try to look back and he just points and gestures to you to keep going. He occasionally lets go of an ear to help you with a lever that would send the plane rapidly in another direction. “You’ll need these it sounds louder up here!”, he warns you.

“What’s louder?”, you ask, but are only answered with your headphones being snuggled back on. You can’t hear anything, not even the sounds the plane is giving off.

Caleb’s large hands come to grip the wheel over your own and finally take you out of the cloud. His thumb gently rubbing over you and you feel him place a kiss on the back of your head. When you exit the clouds you are met with a series of bright colorful lights and Caleb pointing toward the clouds you just left. The strength of the plane cut the cloud in a perfect heart design and the fireworks below in Linkon are peaking through the design you both created. Tears begin to form in your eyes completely overwhelmed with a beautiful sight. A paradise moment that was meant just between you two. You quickly took out your phone and took a photo to put in your album on your living room table back in your apartment. If your heart could sing it would have been a world renowned opera singer. A sight and song meant just for Caleb. As you make your descent back down to Earth you couldn't help but let your tears flow.

“I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to scare you! I … I’m sorry I didn’t set up anything special or different. Pipsqueak… Baby.”, Caleb was frantically wiping your tears and lifting you out of the plane.

“I’m not sad! I just love you so much! Tonight was perfect!”, you sob into his chest.

Relief washed over him entirely and his arms came around to embrace you as tight as possible “Don’t scare me like that! I love you too, but I thought I really messed up this time”, he laughed.

You reached back into his car and plucked one of the bunches of forget-me-nots.

“I promise in a million lifetimes I will never forget this night, Caleb. It may be Valentine’s Day everywhere but this belongs to only us. ” You mess his bangs up a little more as you tuck the bundle into his hair and smile fondly up at him. Next thing you know you are hovering and being pulled up to his lips where you are met with a passionate, foot popping kiss. He hooked your pinky with his and gently kissed both of your hands. Silently prompted you to do the same and a huge smile radiates to his eyes when you do.

“I will hold you to that, Lovely.”

[rebeccasteventaylor]

There’s a particular background character in Mission Impossible I’m fascinated by.

It’s the woman in Fallout who nods encouragingly at Ethan as he’s about to jump out of the window.

I imagine she - let’s call her Caroline - has always been fascinated by spies. She watched all the Bond movies (her favourite is Dalton). She devoured Spooks. She longed to be a spy - but didn’t know how to become one. So she settled down into her nice quiet office job and her nice quiet life and daydreamed of being a spy.

By the time MI6 and MI5 recruit openly, she’s too old. She thinks it’s too late.

Then one day a man comes running through her office. She’s seen enough movies to know he’s talking to someone on comms, and she thinks - this is one of them, isn’t it? An actual spy, right here.

She looks at him as he perches on the edge of the window, unsure what to do. Her instinct tells her he is one of the good guys.

She nods encouragingly.

I have faith in you. You can do this.

He nods back.

Thank you.

Then he jumps. She runs to the window to watch him run. He obviously landed badly but he’s still going. She watches until he’s out of sight.

The next day she quits her office job and sets up a private surveillance and investigation agency.

Her friends all try to dissuade her. She’s too old, too untrained, too ordinary to do this. But she is determined. If he can jump out of a window, she can do this.

And it turns out, she’s rather good. No-one pays any attention to grey haired middle aged women. She practically invisible. If she gets caught she just acts all confused. She takes self-defence classes, but she’s finds out many bad guys immediately back off when a schoolteacher voice tells them to stop messing about and behave.

After six months she hires Vicky. Vicky is 72, tall and skinny. She likes to pretend to not understand her mobile phone in public. In private she hacks into government agencies and leaves rude messages.

Caroline installs Vicky in the corner of the office with six monitors, a huge coffee machine and a complete box set of Led Zeppelin.

One night, as they lounge in the office and sip brandy, Vicky points out how many of their clients are actual spies who just don’t trust their agencies.

‘MI5 keep asking me to work for them. I always refuse,’ Caroline says. ‘We’re getting a reputation as people who won’t tell the government what we’re doing and I’d like to keep that.’

‘In that case,’ Vicky says, ‘we might want to hire someone who knows these agencies, but has no reason to trust them. Someone they’ve disavowed. Like this woman.’ And Vicky hands Caroline Ilsa Faust’s file.

Ilsa joins them on a strictly case-by-case, freelance basis. Caroline understands that urge to be free of all ties. But it’s through Ilsa she finally finds out who the man who jumped from the window is.

Ethan Hunt.

And with him - Benji Dunn, Luther Stickell. Caroline tasks Vicky with keeping an eye on them. Make their path smoother, if possible, without letting them know. It’s Vicky who lets them know the CIA will be hunting them at Abu Dhabi. And it’s Caroline who tells Ilsa where she can find Ethan and his team.

It’s Benji who lets Caroline know Ilsa is dead. Through encrypted messages, one of a list of ‘let them know’ Ilsa had left behind.

It’s the first time Caroline has lost someone. And now she understands - this is her world now.

A few weeks later, two men come into her grubby little office in Enfield. She manages to hold down her gasp when she sees them.

Ethan Hunt and Benji Dunn.

‘We’ve heard you may be able to help us,’ Ethan said, then takes a closer look at Caroline. ‘Have we met?’

‘You were jumping out of a window,’ she says.

‘That doesn’t narrow it down,’ Benji says, going over to look at Vicky’s set up. He’s impressed.

‘I remember,’ Ethan says. ‘You were very encouraging. I didn’t realise you were…’ he waves his hand around at the little spy agency.

‘I wasn’t, then. You inspired me.’

‘Yes, he does that,’ Benji calls out.

Ethan studies her for a moment.

‘It’s been a difficult time. I’m not sure who I can trust right now.’

‘You can trust me,’ she says.

He smiles.

‘Yes, I knew that the minute you encouraged me to jump out of a window. Tell me - how are you at finding submarines?’

[evenmyhivemindisempty]

Two beers and a puppy for the Holbrook characters?

(Based on this post.)

Ooh okay, SO this is possibly my most subjective ask thus far?? I feel like everyone’s gonna have their own comfort levels for each of these (and I genuinely do wanna know what y’all’s responses are!). For the sake of keeping it more personal, I’m gonna do two beers and my dearly beloved cat vs a hypothetical puppy! Which… I do think cats are less work than puppies, so maybe that changes things a little but… here we go!

Steve Murphy: Two beers with Steve is not a tall order. He’s maybe not someone I’d be interested in being besties with, but I’d be down to get to know him for a few hours and see how I feel after. I’m sure he’s got some decent stories, and if nothing else, he seems like he’d be a good listener if I wanted to talk. I would 100% trust him to watch my cat. No question. I’m not sure he’d play with her like she likes, but she’d be fed and watered and appropriately stimulated twice a day just like I asked. The litter would be cleaned out when I got back.

Donald Pierce: I’d totally get two beers with him, not because I think he’d be fun to go out drinking with (probably not) but because I’m a slut for Donald Pierce and I’m thinking with my downstairs head where he’s concerned. *Tentatively yes* for watching my cat. I actually would probably hesitate more if it was a puppy, but cats are easier, and I think he can follow instructions to the letter, although he might “forget” to empty the litter. But hey, it’s just a weekend. I also feel like Pierce is a cat guy for some reason. He melts for a friendly kitty!

Cap Hatfield: Yes and yes, but a little begrudgingly to both. I’m sure he’d be fine to get beers with, but I can also see us awkwardly sitting in silence for a good bit while I struggle to come up with interesting questions for him (I foresee a lot of one-word answers from Cap. Not even to be rude! Just. It is how he is sometimes!) For the latter: I do think Cap can be responsible but… he also wouldn’t be my first choice for a pet sitter for some reason. I feel like he might be inclined to let her outside if she’s staring at a bird wistfully enough.

Clement Mansell: Oh I’d totally get two beers with him! And I’d be so into it when two beers becomes two shots becomes helping him cut lines of coke with my credit card. He’d be a blast to hit up clubs with! I’d just… try to stay out of the way if he caused a fight! I wouldn’t trust him to watch my cat. I don’t think he’d do anything malicious - in fact, I bet he’d play with her adorably - I just don’t trust he’d remember to show up and I don’t trust he wouldn’t steal something from my house while I was gone if the mood struck him.

The Corinthian: Haha! No and no. He might be fun to go out with, but I wouldn’t trust him to watch my drink, and I also bet he’d ditch me in an instant if he saw a hot twink… or worse, make me an accessory to the murder. No thanks! It’s funny - I don’t have the same immediate “hell no” gut reaction for pet sitting that I did with Clement, but ultimately I just don’t think I could trust the Corinthian enough to agree to it. She’s small and helpless!

Eli Klaber: Klaber would probably be fine to get two beers with, although maybe not more than that. I feel like Klaber’s impressionable enough that I could maybe use our conversation to steer him away from Voller’s rhetoric! Worth a shot! I would not let him watch my cat. Sorry, Klaber! I’m sure you’d give it your best, I just don’t trust you wouldn’t feed her something she couldn’t eat or like… bring by a bouquet of lilies to brighten up the house. Unlike Clement and Corinthian, I have no doubt Klaber would take his responsibility seriously. He’d try to be helpful! I just don’t know that that’s necessarily better in his case!

Danny Maguire: Having a drink with Danny does not seem fun! I feel like he’d get way too wild too quick, but not in a spirited and excitable way like Clement. I can see him trying to bully bartenders into giving him free drinks by throwing his dad’s name around. I would not trust him to watch my cat!

Ty Shaw: Yes and YES. This was the easiest decision of all of them. Ty would be my top pick of all these guys to get beers with (we’d have such a fun time! He’d scare away any creeps!) and he’s my top pick to watch my cat too! He might feed her extra treats, but he’d show up on the dot twice a day like asked, and he’d absolutely stick around and play with her until she was all pleasantly tuckered out and snoozing happily in his arms. He’d send so many cute status photos and videos.

Quinn McKenna: I… don’t think I’d want to get a beer with Quinn. I just don’t think I’d have fun! I would absolutely trust him to watch my cat though, and hell, maybe he’d teach her a new trick by the time I got back.