#scarlett march

[shiveringfrogspawn]

don't mind me! just crying in the corner because the paper i'm writing on fictional female role models is giving me hope for future generations. yeah, i'm overjoyed people have created such awesome examples for young girls to follow. characters that the audience feels seen & represented by. yeah, it just got to me a little bit.

[stopandimagineloveforever]

Sen. Katie Britt delivers the Republican response to President Biden’s State of the Union Address

😂 I did not have Scarlett Johansson on my Bingo card 🤣

[cowboyfiles]

When Taylor Swift wrote “what’s a lifetime of achievement if I pushed you to the edge but you were too polite to leave me?” and when Phoebe Bridgers said “I don’t think I love you anymore, that goldmine changed you” and when Miranda Priestly said “you chose to get ahead; you want this life, those choices are necessary; everybody wants to be us.” and when Joni Mitchell sang “a woman must have everything” and when Lou May Alcott wrote “talent isn’t genius; and no amount of energy can make it so. I want to be great, or nothing.”

[catws-anniversary]

We're putting away the costumes, wigs and stunt cables to celebrate the cast of CATWS! Day 5 is all about the people behind the characters.

Please tag @catws-anniversary if you are posting on Tumblr and @catws10 on Twitter, for us to reblog/retweet. If you post to the AO3 Collection, it will automatically be displayed and will be included in our daily masterlist(s). Tags for your post should include #CATWS10 and all your usual fic tags, warnings, etc.

Daily prompt timezones

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[randomnameless]

Yo!

Pas de soucis, tu peux râler sans problèmes ici!

L'artbook sort le 18 - vendredi prochain! Et normalement, si Amazon ne me fait pas défaut, je pourrais l'avoir entre lundi et mercredi.

Il y avait une version collector avec une image plus détaillée (avec tous les personnages!) aussi disponible, mais comme elle n'est pas à la vente sur Amazon, ben... je l'ai pas prise lol

Ah ça reddit... Je pense que ça dépend des sous et je ne veux pas trop catégoriser les utilisateurs, puisqu'au final je pense que chaque "sous" a un public dédié, mais parfois c'est vraiment le 18-25 de JVC, avec encore plus de personnes lamentables

(je crois qu'un type m'a dit que je ne devais pas être considéré comme un être humain parce que j'avais osé suggérer que rendre les tests de paternité systématiques à chaque naissance c'était une dépense inutile pour la sécu juste faite pour flatter l'ego de certains messieurs qui n'ont pas envie de passer par la case judiciaire s'ils ont vraiment un doute sur "leur" bébé. J'ai bien rigolé hahaha.)

Et c'est marrant parce que pour Unicorn Overlord, il y a tellement de personnes, en tous cas de le fandom Fire Emblem, qui ont chié sur le dernier opus de la série (Engage) en utilisant des arguments foireux comme du "évidemment l'avatar est aimé de tout le monde les persos n'ont pas de profondeur et sont obligés de l'adorer" en se gargarisant sur UO - alors que ce n'est pas le même de jeu/genre de jeu/type, mais ils voulaient juste faire une comparaison foireuse - et au final, je suppose qu'on retrouve ces mêmes personnes faire du "self insert" avec Alain, et des tiers lists de waifu, mais attention, si tu leur dis que leur intérêt du jeu est simplement basé sur les éléments empruntés aux "dating sims", ils vont s'offusquer et râler :)

Les commentaires c'est vraiment du... enfin, tu en as fais la douloureuse expérience, mais je pense que ce qui m'a le plus emmerdé c'est les posts/commentaires essayant d'expliquer pourquoi Rosalinde est trop bien, et en gros, on reprend les vieux clichés de "ouah une elfe chocolat c'est génial je l'ai waifu-é direct!" enfin, merde quoi, il n'y a que moi que ça choque ces qualificatifs des années 50s ou c'est encore une autre bizarrerie culturelle outre-atlantique (je ne sais pas quelle est la nationalité majoritaires des personnes qui postent dans ce sous, mais si c'est la même chose que pour les sous de Fire Emblem, l'Oncle Sam est majoritaire!) qui fait que ce genre de "désignation" est mieux acceptée qu'ici...

Je pense qu'on se rejoint là-dessus, le côté harem/dating sim des jeux de stratégie est franchement chiant, surtout quand il prend le pas sur l'écriture et la caractérisation des personnages - au moins dans UO ce n'est pas systématique, Ummels (et Raenys? Ou je les confonds?) même si elle reçoit l'anneau, retourne auprès de Scarlett. Pareil pour Berengeria, mais quand ça existe je trouve ça franchement moche, shipping googles ou pas, on ne m'enlèvera pas l'idée que le couple entre Alain et Virginia est typiquement écrit, fait et pensé juste parce qu'il faut qu'Alain puisse se mettre en couple/donner son anneau à tout le monde! - mais alors quand en plus le fandom (surtout redshit) ne se focalise que sur l'aspect harem pour ensuite s'autocongratuler sur le "oui mais j'aime ce jeu tu vois il est tactique et il y a de bons persos" alors que justement, il ne discute que très peu des persos, c'est franchement bof.

Je ne sais pas si tu as tenté de lire des fics, mais il y en a pas mal en mode "Alain et son harem" alors que bon, je pense qu'il y a matière à faire autre chose, même si au final les gens écrivent ce qu'ils veulent et si je ne suis pas contente, ben j'ai qu'à écrire lol.

A vrai dire, c'est mon premier jeu Vanillaware et c'est vrai que le design "boing boing" m'a vraiment rebutée au début - je me suis mise à y penser de façon ridicule et ça m'a permis de tenir, mais enfin c'est vrai qu'en tant que joueuse, je sais que ce genre de choses n'est pas pour moi et je me demande bien pourquoi VW a besoin de faire appel à ce genre d'artifices alors que leur design/sprite art est franchement très beau et très détaillé.

Est-ce que c'est fait pour attirer les afficionados de la main droite? J'en sais rien, mais c'est vrai que ça m'attriste un peu, parce que pour pouvoir jouer à ce jeu, ben il faut quand même avaler certaines couleuvres qui ont de plus en plus de mal à passer.

C'est aussi pour ça que j'ai pris l'artbook puisque apparemment, il y aura aussi des designs et illustrations des personnages dans leur, selon Google Trad "private clothes", et j'ose espérer qu'on ne parle pas de slips, mais de vêtements de la vie "civile" et non les armures qu'on voit lorsqu'on utilise les unités - comme l'illustration de couverture (Railanor a des vêtements! Morard porte une tunique assez large pour ne plus se balader torse nu! Melisandre porte une robe longue!) - comme petit lot de consolation en mode, s'il faut mettre des fesses et des seins qui rebondissent pour titiller les joueurs, au moins les développeurs ont envisagé que ces personnages peuvent mettre des vêtements dans la vie "civile" qui n'est, certes, pas celle du jeu, mais enfin, que - je sais que j'en parle beaucoup mais c'est la seule perso féminin dans sa classe - Railanor est peut être pensée comme étant quelque chose d'autre qu'une paire de seins.

Après je ne me leurre pas, ces designs (jambes à l'air!) attirent un certain public et vendent, à tel point que maintenant, c'est devenu mainstream.

Je jouais jusqu'à peu à Fire Emblem Heroes, et franchement même les lancières elfes sont plus "modestes" que certaines unités qui sortent de ce jeu, donc je pense que j'y suis, malheureusement, habituée.

Pour le fanservice, je suppose que pour les personnes attirées par les hommes il y Alain qui se balade sans manches - le kink aisselles n'est pas mon truc mais à ce qu'il parait ça attire certaines personnes? - et les mercenaires/landskenecht (Magellan et Jeremy quoi) qui ont des gros bras avec des gros muscles pour ceux/celles que ça intéresse, mais on est absolument pas au niveau de Scarlett qui a des jiggle physics digne du flan de mes 5 ans, de Berengeria qui ne met pas de culotte et le fait savoir (même dans la couverture de l'artbook il y a un plan sur ses fesses enfin merde quoi :() et les bottes à talons cuirassées de Virginia/Ilénia.

Si je peux faire une comparaison, c'est un peu comme aller dans un restaurant connu pour ses hamburgers, en commander un et juste manger des frites - sûr elles sont bonne, mais enfin, la pub et le restaurant, à la base, c'est pour les burgers.

Donc même si je trouve le "sprite work" très beau et les designs de paysage ou, en général, les éléments en 2D supers, ben à la fin, ce ne sont que des frites puisque l'élément d'appel principal du produit, ben ça reste Yahna et qui se déhanche ou Scarlett qui rebondit à chaque action.

Et c'est super chiant, parce que Miriam/Monica, Chloé, les prêtresses, Hilda et Frau ont montré qu'ils peuvent faire des designs sans utiliser leur main droite, et ça reste quelque chose de très réussi, mais à côté de ça on a encore les lancières elfes, le speedo des jumelles elfiques, Dyna qui ne porte, ben, pas grand chose, Yunifee qui flashe son derrière, Berengeriat et "l'armure string" ou encore la robe avec "fente sur le côté" de Virginia/Ilénia qui ne sert, à mon sens, qu'à se poser la question "culotte ou pas culotte". Et quand tu compares ça au design des unités masculines, surtout pour les lanciers elfes c'est...

Enfin bref.

Est-ce que c'est l'aspect dating sim qui a poussé les développeurs à faire de tels designs, ou est-ce que, justement, ce sont les designs qui ont poussé à intégrer un aspect "dating sim", j'en sais rien, mais au final, je reste persuadée que ces questions de fanservice/design de personnages sont avant tout liées au public qui est visé par le jeu en question - même si je pense qu'en 2024, il est possible de développer un jeu de stratégie qui pourra être acheté par des jeunes gens (ou moins jeunes!) avec un spritework aussi détaillé que UO, sans absolument développer ce jeu à l'attention d'hommes en mal de galipettes.

[gorochuva]

HSR Incorrect Quotes except it spoils one of my WIPs

March: I’m a lesbiab.

March: Lesbiam.

March: Less bien?

March: Girls!

Riot: It’s okay, take your time.

[sophiecountsclouds]

March Reading Wrap Up!

Hello! I really thought I’d be able to slowly increase how much I’m reading this year, but so far it’s been downhill in terms of numbers of books! In January I read 5 books, in February I managed 4 (though some of my wrap ups said 5 cos I was really optimistic) and in March I’ve only managed to read 3 books! Granted, when I look at the number of pages read, I’ve read nearly as much as I read in…

[books-in-a-storm]

Currently Reading 💛

Villainous Hearts, Semester 3 & My Cat Is The Antichrist

[laiahernandeeezzz]

Chapters: 1/31 Fandom: Black Widow (Movie 2021), Marvel Cinematic Universe, Little Women (2019 Movie - Gerwig) Rating: Not Rated Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Florence Pugh x OC, Florence Pugh/original female character, Florence Pugh x female!oc Characters: Florence Pugh, Elizabeth Olsen, Scarlett Johansson, Valerie Vivian, Astrid Jones Additional Tags: Florence Pugh, Original Character, Lesbian, Bisexual, i love Florence Pugh, it's not very good, I tried though, there is smut, Short Chapters, thinking about editing them, there is angst, not very long, scarlett johansson, Elizabeth Olsen, yelena belova my beloved Summary:

A normal girl. An Instagram post. A giveaway. A Marvel giveaway. And a massive luck.

[whatsheread]

Not your traditional Beauty and the Beast retelling

Mountains Made of Glass is the first book in Scarlett St. Clair’s newest series, Fairy Tale Retelling. As the series title lets you know, it is all about fairy tales but with Ms. St. Clair’s spin on them. In this first book, she tackles Beauty and the Beast. Ms. St. Clair does not just retell the tale as old as time. In Mountains Made of Glass, she also plays around with the story of…

[heartsofminds]

i'm calling just to hear you scream - part i

"She’s tried to be positive. She’s tried to be kind. She’s trying to be the peacekeeper, but all of that falls out the window when her brother is bitching out everything that fucking blinks and breathes and Richie has slung a sledgehammer into the wrong wall that needed to be knocked down." or Natalie gets fed the fuck up and hires a hospitality attorney before everything else turns to shit. 

a/n: i couldn't help myself at all and had to bite by trying my hand at writing for carmy! what can i say? i love men with trauma that need to be cuddled like newborns! please enjoy the beginning of enemies to lovers to enemies back to lovers fic with a workaholic chef and an overly empathetic attorney. angst is my brand! i hope you enjoy!

Being the peacekeeper of your family is never something anyone ever sets out to be. 

One day you’re normal and live blissfully with the rose-colored lenses of naivety tinting life shades of bashful blush and magnetic magenta. The next day you’re diffusing a spitfire scarlett dispute between your anxiety-ridden mother and impulsively crude older brother while simultaneously taming the balloon of battered blue tears your baby brother sheds who observes from the corner; scared yet somehow unaware of the emotions sucking the oxygen out of everyone. 

At first, it feels good. It feels nice to be appreciated and turned to in moments of darkness. Helpfulness defines your livelihood and gives you the nameplate of the gold star child who can never do any wrong and always finds a solution. But then you realize that is what you ever really are, and you’re both hated for your inability to let things sour and for always having an answer despite uncertainty plaguing every course of action. 

Being the peacekeeper of your family is both a Medal of Honor, worn with pride and graciousness, yet a bullet wound wielded by shame and agony. The tenderness and hurt push on it until you can hardly stand it; half expecting pus to be seeping out in pale yellow heaps because the pain feels so real. 

There are no exit wounds. There are no breaks. There is no humanity or personal identity or room for self-discovery. 

A peacemaker is all you will be and all you will ever accomplish, and you’ll never say it out loud but it’s fucking exhausting. 

Being the peacemaker is something Natalie Berzatto never fucking asked for, yet here she is, playing project manager to her haywire (and sometimes freakishly obsessive) baby brother’s blind-eyed throw of a dart that manifested itself in asking Uncle Jimmy for an eight hundred thousand dollar loan with the promise to have it completely paid back within eight months. 

She’s not one to rain on a parade, but it’s hard to keep marching when your entire life has been putting out the fires of overly ambitious business ventures during unmedicated fits of mania. She had seen it with their dad, with their mom, and with Mikey. Carmen is the last needle needed to complete the fucked up haystack that engulfs their family. 

She’s tried to be positive. She’s tried to be kind. She’s trying to be the peacekeeper, but all of that falls out the window when her brother is bitching out everything that fucking blinks and breathes and Richie has slung a sledgehammer into the wrong wall that needed to be knocked down. 

Natalie has never thought of looking into Botox until now; when her face is set in a permanent scowl and her resting heart rate nears triple digits. Pete had been telling her for the past three weeks that she was doing amazing; that this was an impossible task to complete stress-free, and that the stress was “good” because it meant that she cared. 

Sometimes she doesn’t realize that not everyone has a mom who drives the fucking car through the den during Christmas Eve dinner nor does everyone have a mom who moves all the furniture to the backyard before having to leave for their oldest brother’s high school graduation. Not everyone has an older brother who blows his head off and doesn’t leave a note and not everyone has a younger brother who would lose his head if it wasn’t attached to his body and had his mouth that was spewing hurtful insults by the dozen.

Stress does not mean that you care. Stress means that your eyes are staring at the fucking Sun trying to see where the other shoe is getting ready to drop because there’s always another disappointment and always another phone call to make to the pharmacy for more SSRIs. 

Needless to say, Richie calling Neil “lard ass” on an antagonizing loop after he had pointed out the wrong wall was being destroyed was the last straw. Well, that and the fact she found a new patch of white hairs colonizing on her hairline the other morning. Constant shouted insults, gray hairs popping up overnight, and the colossal secret of a new infant making its arrival into the chaos in October weigh heavy on her. And she absolutely cannot afford to lose her cool and become the kind of bitchy and mean she knows that she’s capable of. 

Your phone number sits inside the LED-lit text thread of a friend she had known in high school. Becca was the older sister of Claire Cantor whom her little brother may have or may have not had a pathetic crush on years ago when he was in high school. 

She feels kind of grimy doing what she is; offering up information about Carmy to Becca to give to Claire who apparently thought her baby brother was the bee's knees (which, if she saw the way he was acting right now, Natalie knows she would run the other way). She doesn’t even think Carmen has the capability to think of anything outside of the restaurant and the menu and how royally fucked they all are. 

She can feel the dull ache of guilt in her chest that comes with knowing how unlikely anything is to come from this, and how wrong she is for pretending like her telling Becca where he grocery shops or if he has a girlfriend or if he was currently looking for someone to date would somehow tether Claire to a world where her and Carmen are a “thing” (because apparently “boyfriend and girlfriend” is too permanent of a word for Chicagoan twenty-somethings to use). 

But she’s doing it for the sake of everyone else! It can’t possibly be as gross and low-lived as she feels it is. 

Becca Cantor is insufferable and can only be taken in small doses, but she’s also a big wig junior partner at one of the most lucrative law firms in Chicago. Natalie hates blowing smoke up people’s asses who don’t deserve it (and in Becca’s case certainly don’t need it), but she desperately needs help and knows that she needs to figure something out before she fucks herself in such a deep hole that she couldn’t attempt to unfuck herself if she tried. 

Your official title is “junior associate” and you had been working at Becca’s firm following your graduation from Northwestern’s Pritzker School of Law a couple of years prior. Becca had said you were amazing; freakishly smart, funny, and hardworking. She also mentioned that you were the best kind of junior associate; the ones that know when to shut the fuck up and when to get the fuck out of the way. The addition added before the text conversation ended was how you were looking to get your foot into the hospitality legal field, and how you were willing to do anything concerning that for free fucking ninety-nine if it meant you would have some experience. 

Natalie sits with her lower lip worried between her teeth and her hands one tick shy of shaking. Her heart beats erratically despite lounging on her couch with the lights off and a re-run of That 70’s Show playing softly in the background. She makes a mental note to bring up the high resting heart rate at her next OB appointment. 

It’s because she’s pregnant. Yes. It has to be because she’s pregnant. 

She shouldn’t be nervous. It would be absolutely ridiculous to be nervous. She’s not nervous. 

She already ran the idea past Sydney and she agreed that they absolutely needed a lawyer in their back pocket. With all of the tax records fucked beyond belief, new workers being hired who actually knew their worth and wouldn’t tolerate not having an actual employement contract, and the lack of permits under their belt currently, a lawyer wouldn’t hurt if getting one turned out to not be as helpful as anticipated. Besides, Becca had said you were doing it for them pro bono which in turn meant free fucking nintey-nine. 

But Natalie had lied to Carmen about how much some fluted cocktail glasses cost to ensure that they purchased the cheaper ones so that she could run the numbers and figure out a way to put you on the payroll. Pro bono or not, you’re doing them a huge favor and part of her can’t put the peacekeeping to rest. 

Her fingers type and untype a novel of characters. She can’t seem to relax her mind enough to articulate what exactly she wants to say. She has one shot to not scare you off and not lose her mind in a fit of fiery rage and not have everything turn to shit and it be her fault. She has to be perfect. 

Fuck. She is nervous. 

Hi! This is Natalie Berzatto. I’m one of Becca Cantor’s friends and she referred me to you. I’m working on opening a restaurant and would like for you to swing by and discuss some things about it if you’re open to that! Please let me know. I’m looking forward to hearing back from you soon! 

Nat’s finger hits the blue “send” arrow in the rounded box of her phone screen the same time she pushes a gag to the back of her throat. She used to work at a marketing firm for Christ’s sake. Cold contacting people isn’t anything new and she’s usually not one to shy away from reaching out to anyone in her personal life first. But she can’t help the fact that she’s never been able to swallow the artificial bubble gummy niceness of reaching out to a complete stranger for the first time. She feels stupid and knows that she sounds even stupider but tries not to think about it. 

Besides, keeping everything together is never easy and she knows that she would be selfish for letting her discomfort prevent her from doing what she knows is best. 

Her breath is stuck in her chest as she eyes the open text thread to an unsaved number; her blue text message staring at her menacingly and breeding contempt as the seconds pass. She gasps loudly whenever she sees the gray bubbles pop up beneath it. Pete pokes his head into the living room with a tea towel in his hand and one of the ceramic plates they had eaten dinner on in the other. His eyes wear concern but he knows better than to confront his wife. Natalie was anything but sugary sweet when she was stressed and the influx of hormones as of late have not been helping. 

You see the message as soon as Natalie sends it. The unknown “312” number finds its way into your notifications and your eyes read over the words in a frenzy. You know that you’re intelligent. You graduated from law school for fuck’s sake, but for some reason you absolutely cannot comprehend the text you’re reading. 

Firstly, you were sure Becca hated your fucking guts. She was a junior partner that everyone hated being assigned to because she pushed all her work onto the associates and nothing ever seemed to be good enough for her. Part of the reason you had to take work home tonight was because she sent you an email with enough passive-aggressive undertone to know that these edits needed to be done now; never mind the fact that the time she took to type out the seven and a half page report about the original report probably took up so much time that she could’ve done the task herself. But yet you replied kindly and have been working through your brain fog and finger cramps since arriving home at six in the evening five hours ago. 

Secondly, hospitality litigation was absolutely above your pay grade. You had taken one elective course on it during your 2L year and did a two-week internship before the start of 3L simply because one of your friends wanted to go on vacation and needed to find someone to cover for them. You know jack shit about hospitality law and you don’t even know why Becca Cantor, of all fucking people, would be so willing to recommend you when she couldn’t care less if you lived or died. 

But of course, you can’t say no. You can never say no, and if this Natalie person was desperate enough to reach out to you via text at 11 PM on a Wednesday, she definitely needed help and needed it now. Besides, you would tell her that you do not need to be paid and if whatever she needs proves to be way too advanced for you, you can always help her find an attorney that knows what they’re doing.

Right? 

It definitely doesn’t mean that you’ll pull an all-nighter and research every aspect of hospitality law in Illinois that you can get your hands on. . .Or look up every department dealing with food and management regulations in the state. . .Or try and look at precedent cases. Your firm gave you unlimited access to West Law. Might as well use it for something slightly more interesting than trusts, estates, and contracts. 

You’re unusually pensive for something you know you would love to do. The ongoing battle as of late has been the dispute between seeking joy and wading in practicality; happiness or falsified peace? 

You rub your eyes with a roughness that would make your optometrist cringe. You know that staring at your computer screen five hours after your contracted work hours ended was the culprit for your dry eyes, but the hours you need are not going to bill themselves. Getting up to get your eyedrops will have to wait.

Replying to Natalie cannot. 

Your fingers type and untype; the feeling of texting back an unknown number foreign and unnerving. 

Thanks so much for reaching out and thinking of me! I would love to. What dates and times work for you, and where would it be best for us to meet? 

The text stares at you on your phone screen. Why do you sound so. . . corporate? Boring? Infantile.

She could probably tell you don’t know what the fuck you’re talking about at all. The feeling of defeat rises in your throat but you ignore it and hit send instead. You’re trying to be better about that; letting your fear of uncertainty keep you from taking action. You’ve come to realize that the hard part isn’t doing the thing. It’s actually sitting in the aftermath of the “thing” and waiting for the rest of the world to catch up. 

You bite your lip so hard it begins to bleed and throbs with each pulse of watery blood that fills your mouth. The gentle suck you give it to stop the bleeding makes it partially numb. 

Fuck you, Becca. Fuck you, Becca. Fuck you, Becca. 

Natalie chirps when your text illuminates her screen. She gasps and sits up; startling Pete who had settled next to her after finishing the dishes. Her eyes curl up in the same way her lips do. 

Fucking finally. 

The world no longer feels like it’ll fall apart.

[morbidology]

Scarlett was a former stray cat who is known for her efforts to save her kittens from a fire. On 30 March, 1996, Scarlett and her five kittens were in an abandoned garage in Brooklyn when a fire broke out. The New York Fire Department were called and extinguished the fire. One of the firefighters, David Giannelli, was the first one to spot Scarlett carrying her kittens away from the garage. She had been severely burned in the process of saving her kittens, so much so that her eyes were blistered shut.

Scarlett and her kittens were all adopted. Scarlett passed away in 2008.

[thequeensofbeauty]

Scarlett Johansson photographed by Tesh for Marie Claire (March '17)

[recycledmoviecostumes]

Walter Plunkett designed this unforgettable gown worn by Vivien Leigh’s character, Scarlett O’Hara, in the 1939 film 𝑮𝒐𝒏𝒆 𝑾𝒊𝒕𝒉 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝑾𝒊𝒏𝒅.   The film premiered in Atlanta in December of that same year, and Margaret Palmer, a Junior Leaguer whose measurements were the closest to Leigh’s, won a contest to be allowed to wear   the gown during the grand march for the 𝑮𝒐𝒏𝒆 𝑾𝒊𝒕𝒉 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝑾𝒊𝒏𝒅 ball, along with other activities planned for the premiere.   We have lots more details about this reuse on our website, so check it out! Bit.ly/VicEd130  

[shiny-kaibernyte]

It's my Birthday!

March 19th and im a year closer to meeting Arceus lucky me! So here is some of my Pokémon simps headcannons as to how they would celebrate your birthday. (I was going to do my top 5 simps but they are all from different things so I'm gonna leave those to myself) There will be no Scarlett and violet characters. They will be in they're own post (There's a lot I like)

Characters: Adaman, Lysander, Raihan, Leon, Cynthia, Volo

💙💎Adaman💎💙

Adaman’s number one rule is that every moment counts. So when it comes to planning your birthday, he makes sure every second he spends planning results in the perfect outcome.

He would make sure to remember all of your favourite things to do and put as many as he can in one day without overdoing it. Adaman was always good at planning. Execution was the problem.

Headstrong and passionate don’t tend to go well together, so no matter how many hours he spends detailing everything. Planning around possible problems; as always something is bound to go wrong.

Surprise bandit attack; Alpha attack; Something happens in the Demand clan; Irida

Will that stop him from making this day all about you? Arceus no! He’s just gonna try harder to make you happy. Even if you're already beaming with the royal treatment he is giving you. Adaman won’t stop until the sun is gone, and he’s carrying you back home.

I would try and pinpoint 1 specific thing he’d do, but Adaman would do basically anything you wanted. Your wish was his command, whatever you wanted to do - he would do. Want to go on a catching spree? Sure. Want to walk along the coastal beach, when do we leave? Want to scale the cobalt mountains to reach the temple of Sinnoh? He’s already racing you up there.

You could drag him to the Alabaster Iceland's and he would follow you like a Fidough. It’s your day and he is going to make damn sure you feel like royalty by the end.

🧡☕Lysandre☕🧡

Lysandre is a busy man. Being the leader of Team flare and running his company and keeping his goal of beauty running smoothly. Time is not something he has! But for his darling's birthday, that's time he is happy to put aside.

He wouldn’t be particularly flashy about what he does for your birthday. He is a gentleman aftercall! Not psychotic at all he's fine i swear. Don’t expect Tengen Uzui level flashy. Lysandre is much more laid back than that. He won’t show you off to the world if you aren't comfortable with it.

His personal life is something he likes to keep behind closed doors, so for your birthday, the most public he would get is taking you out around Lumios, weather that be a shopping spree, a nice conversation at a quiet café. Dinner at a nice restaurant would be a must however. He still wants you to feel special so he will spoil you rotten with gifts. Dudes got the money to burn. 

I can see Lysandre planning something beforehand to keep the paparazzi distracted. Like calling in a favour with a friend high up and having them stage something on the other side of the city so you two can be together in peace.

Once you two get home, he will spend the night with you watching any movie or show you want. Reading with you, just talking with you. Anything you want so long as he can see that beautiful smile of yours. 

Lysandre will go to bed with you but… It's a 50/50 shot if he will still be in bed when you wake up. If he is there, lucky you! If he isn’t there, expect an apology note written quite detailed and a nice breakfast with a simple apology gift next to it.

💗🐉Raihan🐉💗

Battle dates. This man will take you to every single gym tournament and battle he can just to watch your excited face when something awesome happens. Seeing his treasure smile makes him all bubbly and giddy.

But don’t worry, he isn't just going to drag you around Galar showing you fight after fight. He isn’t that stupid. Raihan would definitely take you flying on Flygon so you can see the beauty of Galar from his view. Though his view won’t be on the land below.

For once, he will not mention Leon’s name once! I didn’t know that was possible but here we are. Today is about you, so Leon is flicked temporarily out of Raihan's mind and into the naughty corner.

Photo’s everywhere. Anywhere you two go, he will either stop to take a selfie with you or tell you to go pose somewhere so he can capture the moment. Defiantly will ask you before posting the photo though. Sometimes though he will sneak a photo of you when he thinks you like breath-taking. Something to keep to himself. And don't even think about saying you look bad in one of them, because he will then take a million more to prove you wrong. That or smother you in kisses so you won't say it again.

Raihan will be like Lysander when it comes to gifts. This man will SPOIL YOU! Anything you want, you’d have to grab him by the hood to stop him taking the crowd of people down with him. 

He would 1000% be down for a movie marathon as well if you would rather stay inside. He will have a fort built, snacks at the ready and every movie ready.

💜🎮Leon🎮💜

Bless his soul, he has no idea what to do. Leon would want to take you somewhere really nice he found during his travels, if only he could remember which direction it was in. Then he thought about a nice restaurant you had mentioned wanting to try. Which city was that in again? Perhaps he could take you out to the beach, where was that again?

He would leave it at. “I’ll follow you.” So just drag him around with you and he will gladly follow you and do what you wanna do. Just nothing reckless, he won’t do anything that could get you hurt. Unlike Raihan he would avoid battle arenas. 

I feel like Leon would 100% be down for a gaming day, he’d let you take him to any game store and buy every game you wanted and just play all of them. Card, board, video all of them. Single player or multiplayer he will be right there cheering you on or giving you competitive gals with a smile.

If you're up for it, Leon would ask if Hop could join you two for a little while, not long as Leon does want to spend the day with you, but Hop sees you as a family too.

Dude cannot read. So do not ask him to read anything, he can’t tell the difference between Your and You’re. But if you like reading out loud, he will have his head in your lap listening to you read if that will make you happy. 

Leon would try and make you the best cake he can! We know this man can decorate very well, the baking half is a hit or miss, definitely would have gotten help from an unknown alias. His mom.

🖤🌺Cynthia🌺🖤

Forest date. This woman would give you the royal treatment. Lysander got nothing on this Queen! She will take you anywhere you want for the day. But if you ask her to pick what you do or… a surprise!? She takes that as a challenge. You will most likely wind up on a secluded part of a meadow surrounded by nature.

Tranquil and beautiful, a place for just the two of you to spend time with one another. No champion duties, paparazzi, endless questions of your relationship. Just Her and you. 

Cynthia’s Roserade would make it subtly rain rose petals around the area to add to her love for you. If it’s raining, she has a plan for that too. No rain is going to ruin your special day! Hope you like dancing in the rain because she is already dragging you out to the flower meadows to dance with you hand in hand.

You can guarantee she has a picnic somewhere hidden, Where you will never know that. But this woman has come PREPARED! She’s prepared for everything, and your birthday is no exception.  She has everything, from your favourite snacks, drinks, everything. Even the blanket is your favourite colour. Cynthia even bought a pillow with her that you could sit on so you wouldn’t be uncomfortable if you wanted it.

Like Raihan her Pokémon would be involved. But instead of flying, she would use her Pokémon to put on a show for you. The rose petals from Roserade being just an example. Her Garchomp would show you a fireworks show when night arrived, along with the help of Togekiss.

She won’t spoil you with gifts. Instead she will have one thing she made for you herself. It won’t be very big, but it will show you the love she has for you. Whatever she made you, expect it to be incredibly meaningful.

💛✨Volo✨💛

Cynthia had to get her skills somewhere and this is where. Volo does everything Cynthia does but somehow even more extra. 

If Cynthia gives you the royal treatment, he is giving you the Deity treatment. Man has Giratina at his call, he can literally give you anything! And he will use it to his advantage at every chance he gets. He will use his craftsman skills to make you a bracelet with all of the stones on as a mark of your journey together. If you want him to make another so you can match, oh look he already did! What are the chances?

This man will take you EVERYWHERE! Even places you have never been to before on the back of Giratina, he will show you the world most don’t get to see. The world he will build for you. But he won’t spoil that surprise.

He would definitely make you food, he travels a lot so cooking is a must know skill. So your birthday with him isn't a day, it's a whole week. And every time he makes you something it is completely different. Volo is taking zero shortcuts on this adventure. He may have a Deity on his team, his Deity is sat Infront of him admiring the stars.

Speaking of Stars. Stargazing is a must on every clear night you two get. He would lay his jacket down for you to lay on and look up at the sky together.

Volo would make sure to stop around different areas and tell you about the history there, watching your expression carefully to see the enthusiasm and curiosity on it which just makes him want to try harder to get that smile to stay there. 

He will also use his trade skills to get you something that caught your eye from wherever he took you. Volo may have money but he will use his skills where he can. Giratina isn’t the only benefit he has. Dude is a travelling merchant after all. He has more knowledge than everyone combined. Expect him to show you off however. He loves you more than anything, and wants the world to know that.

[its-time-to-write]

Omg I'm loving your response to my prompts!! thank you

I have a few ideas (You don't have to do them all) just throwing them out there to see what sparks ideas!!

I love secret admirer stories (I know its no where close to valentines day but still) maybe Reader is Rebecca's assistant and keeps getting gifts leading up to valentines day but she is pretty sure its like Sam or Isaac and tells friend Jaime (even though its really him) then the day of the grand finale and she comes to the lovely surprise of it being Jaime!

also if you could include Scarlett red roses in it for me (They are my favorite flower and the only flower I'm not allergic to)

So. I liked this one. Maybe too much? It might be the longest one I’ve written so far, so, uh, sorry about that. But I liked it a lot. It might be one of my favorite things I’ve ever written. Hope you enjoy. also the gif isn’t Jamie Tartt but it is Phil Dunster so hopefully that’s ok

honey, i’ll give you all my time

Good god, it’s February all ready. You have a love-hate relationship with the month; love, because Galentine’s Day and hate because Valentine’s Day. You and your friends would go out on February 15th to get discount chocolate from the shops, then return home for an ungodly amount of takeout and a movie. On the whole, you all preferred action movies with a good romance. 

You’re dreading Valentine’s Day because it’s when your boyfriend of two years held your hands in his, and told you he wanted to break up. 

That was a year ago. You’re mostly angry that he’s a dark stain on one of your favorite holidays. You’re absolutely determined not to let him ruin your enjoyment. 

This is also the first year you’re not with your friends. You moved away last March because you realized your ex had been holding you back in far too many ways. 

So. To recap. 

You’re alone. You love Valentine’s Day, despite it forever being the day of your breakup. Your friends aren’t here. You have new friends. There is no one to go to the shops with on the 15th. But discount chocolate is still discount chocolate. 

Your current job is as a personal assistant, something you excel at. You basically anticipate needs, meet them, and just generally make your employer’s life a whole lot easier. The application said the job required a lot of travel, but all expenses (minus some food) were covered. 

You were shocked when you got an interview, then a second, then a third, then were hired. 

Your boss is a woman named Rebecca Welton, and you’re half in love with her, but who isn’t, really?

You swear you’ve never been in such a healthy work environment. You mention it one day, early on, and she says it’s all thanks to their head coach, someone named Ted. 

You meet him for the first time later that day, and you understand. 

It’s impossible not to love him, because he has vision. He knows what he wants from his team, and he knows how to get it. 

He believes the team extends far beyond the players. 

He believes it extends to you, too. 

Ted and Coach Beard steal you from Rebecca as often as they can, claiming emergencies such as “a toxic amount of testosterone from all these boys,” “life-threatening boredom,” and last but not least, “there’s a new pun Ted absolutely needs to test right now and he won’t take no for an answer.”

(You like to give Ted honest feedback on his puns.) 

You also find yourself in their office when Rebecca is out for lunch, eating your respective sandwiches and swapping life stories. 

They remind you a lot of your parents.

It’s mid-June when you mention the Valentine’s Day story. 

It doesn’t hurt as much when it’s punctuated by Ted’s “he didn’ts” and Beard’s perfectly-timed gasps. 

You find yourself laughing halfway through, unable to stop. 

“And anyway,” you finish, cheeks painful from smiling so hard, “that’s why romantic love is a joke and I am drowning myself in platonic love forever.”

Ted and Beard share a look. “I wouldn’t be too sure about that,” Beard says. 

You shoot him a quizzical look. “What do you mean?”

“Well sweetheart,” Ted says, “between the two of us collectively,” here points between him and Beard, “we know of at least three of the boys on the team who are madly in love with you.”

“What?” you gasp, “How did you- where did you- who??”

Ted zips his lips and Beard tips a finger to him. “We know of five if we count Rebecca’s intel.”

You’re sitting cross-legged on the edge of Beard’s desk, in shock. “Rebecca knows about this??”

Ted and Beard shrug in unison. “We all have our opinions on which one should shoot their shot, but that’s neither here nor there,” Ted says. 

“Coincidentally, it’s the one thing we unanimously agree on,” Beard nods. 

You’re cut off from saying anything by the door opening. One of the players stands in the doorway. 

“Excuse me, coach,” he says, accent thick. 

Ted motions in a you have the floor type of way, and the footballer turns to address you of all people. “We’re all goin’ out tonight, and Keeley sent me to invite the new girl. None of the lads have really met you yet, just seen you ‘round. Thought it might be good for team bonding, or something. I’m Jamie, by the way.”

“Oh,” you say, taken aback. “I guess- yeah, I guess I haven’t really met them. I mean, I see you guys around and stuff and I’m at your games, but I don’t really know you. Are you sure you want me to come?”

Jamie shrugs. “Coach is always on us about bein’ a team or some shit. And, havin’ a girl around makes the lads look good.”

You think that makes sense, and then find yourself agreeing to go out that night with a group of footballers you don’t know, and (thank god) Keeley Jones. 

You’re going to figure out which five before the summer’s over. 

—

You have nice time out with the lads. They go to a bar and cram into separate booths. You’re wedged in between two who have introduced themselves as Isaac and Dani, and across from Sam, Bumbercatch, and Jan Maas. Roy, Richard, and a few others you don’t know are milling about, and you see Jamie and Keeley at a table, surrounding by giggling girls. The sight is so absurd that you catch yourself smiling and turning back to whatever conspiracy Bumbercatch is telling you about now. 

—

You put Sam at the top of your list as soon as you get home. The man wears his heart on his sleeve, or maybe in his eyes, but you’re positive that he’s one of the five Ted and Beard referred to. One down, four to go. 

— 

It’s the end of July, and you begin to become friends with the team. You know for an absolute fact who is not interested in you, Jamie being one of them. Coincidentally, he’s the one you become closest to. You think it’s because you’re not worrying about sending mixed signals or leading him on. You dropped public hints about not really looking for anything romantic, just to be sure you wouldn’t hurt anyone. 

As it is, Jan Maas and Dani have made the list. Jan Maas, because he stifled his Dutch bluntness for you and Dani, because he openly declared he was madly in love with you in front of the whole team. 

—

Isaac makes the list in December. It had been in between him and Bumbercatch, but Isaac was the one who walked you to your car every night and the first one to say hello to you every morning. 

You’re not gonna lie, it was cute. 

You shared some of this with Ted and Beard, who remained impressively stone-faced. Rebecca proved to be equally impervious.

You shared all of it with your lunch-buddy-turned-work-bestie, Jamie. 

You ate with him because Rebecca was constantly in lunch meetings these days, and Ted, Beard, and Roy were always revamping their football strategies.

Jamie would plop down at your table and say, “What’s the news, Amy Hughes?” in his perfect Mancunian accent, and then listen/add commentary to whatever you had to say. 

You explained to him that the reason you wanted to know who liked you was so that you could be extra careful with their hearts. You knew what it was like to be led on, and you did NOT want to do that to someone else. 

Jamie nodded thoughtfully at that and then said, “We’re all footballers though, ain’t we? We get the shit end of the stick all the time, hearts broke by models and whatever. Even ends up in the fucking press. Everyone here’s has their heart broken before, and we all know you aren’t doing it on purpose.”

You wrinkle your nose at him. “I’m pretty sure it’s short end of the stick, Jamie.”

And thus begins your lunch hour of bickering. 

—

No one has made a move on you yet, and you don’t have a read on number five. You still think it may be Bumbercatch, but in reality, it slips from your mind. Sam’s moved on, Jan Maas has accepted defeat, Dani swears he will love you until the day he dies, and Isaac stays, well, Isaac. Still sweet. Still walking you to your car, coming round extra early in the morning with a coffee or a water, depending on which “looked less like shit.”

Really though, you don’t think about it until February first, when you walk into your office to a small box on your desk. 

At first, you think it’s a box of Ted’s biscuits. 

Then, you notice a small, scarlet-red rose taped to the top. There’s no note, and all that’s inside is a tiny paper heart. 

It’s folded with extreme care, and you place it on your shelf, smelling the rose. It smells amazing and you make a mental note to figure out where the heck it came from. But for now, it’s time to work. 

—

You don’t mention the gifts until February third, because now there’s been one a day. Each one with a scarlet red rose, and a different gift. Yesterday was an incredibly expensive bar of chocolate (it was life-changing) and today is a tiny gold bracelet.

It’s a simple enough chain, but it is absolutely breathtaking. There is no mistaking the fact that it is not cheap, so you take it and march straight to Rebecca’s office.  

“Rebecca,” you say, hands outstretched, “look.”

She does, smiles, then says, “It appears you have a secret admirer.”

“But I don’t want that!” you cry. “I don’t even have time for that! I don’t even like anybody right now!”

She peers at you over her glasses. “Don’t you?”

The sheer weight of those words is enough to physically knock you back two steps. 

You don’t, you swear you don’t, you’re absolutely sure. 

What about Vienna? a voice in the very back of your head nags.

You reply, out loud, “We don’t talk about Vienna,” and Rebecca just shrugs. 

“Have it your way,” she replies in a tone that means this conversation is over, but you’re the one ending it.

You turn on your heel and find yourself taking the route to Ted and Beard. 

You burst into their office in such a flurry that the entire room turns to look at you. “Close the door,” you say with such urgency, that Trent hurries to comply. Beard even shuts the blinds. 

“What’s on your mind, Ollie Cline?” Ted asks. 

“Wait,” you say, holding up a hand. You point to Roy. “Do you want to be here? It involves feelings.”

“Fuck no,” says Roy, “thanks for being fucking considerate.” He follows it up with a pointed glare at Ted, then goes into his office and firmly shuts the door. 

“Can he be here?” Ted asks, tilting his head toward Trent. 

“I don’t care, he’s probably a good one to have around for this because look!” You present the three collected roses and the bracelet. 

“Someone’s started leaving me gifts, and I’m pretty sure it’s a Valentine’s thing because of the roses, and it was fine for the first two days but this is expensive, and I can’t accept this!”

Ted and Beard share a look. You hate it when they do that and leave you out. 

Ted sighs. “Listen, do you think this about Vienna?”

You fix him with a glare. “No. We are not talking about Vienna ever again.”

Trent pipes up, “What’s Vienna?” and you wheel around on him, taking your glare with you. 

“Vienna," you spit, like it’s poisonous, “is a terrible, awful place where people think terrible, awful things. I never want to talk about it again and I never will.”

Trent nods. “Noted.” 

You turn back to Ted and Beard, pleadingly. “What do I do? Tell me what to do.”

Beard gets up and puts his hand on your shoulder. “Kid, if you want my advice, take the damn roses and wear the damn bracelet. These boys make more money than they know how to spend, so just let it go. They all know how you feel about dating, so if someone’s shooting their shot, they know the stakes.”

You shake your head. “Fine. Fine. I’ll let it go.” 

—

You decide to tell Jamie on day five, because it’s a Friday and you’re dying to get his take. You tell him everything, show him the roses in your office (hanging upside down to dry), and then hand him the notebook that was in today’s box. 

“Jamie,” you say, “this is an expensive notebook. There was a typed note inside that said, ‘for your drawings.’ How did this person even know I like drawing? I never talk about it!”

Jamie looks at you and laughs a little. You’re very flustered for something most people would enjoy. “Dunno, love, but we’ve all seen the sticky notes you leave Coach. That might be it.”

You groan and flop down into your chair. 

“At least tomorrow’s the weekend,” you say.

—

Jamie’s phone dings at 9:00am on Saturday with a text from you that says, what the actual heck and a picture of a brown bag at your doorstep. Inside is a plastic box of your favorite lemon muffin from a local bakery. He emphasized the image, then waits for your response. 

It was still warm, you write. It was someone who knows where I live and knows what time I leave to get breakfast.

Jamie grins and sends you a shrugging emoji, and you respond with an eye roll and a you’re no fun.

Jamie reads that and privately disagrees. He thinks he’s lots of fun

—

You’re pretty sure it’s Isaac. After all, he’s the only likely candidate. He’s one of the few who knows where you live and knows your routine. Not in a creepy way, in a we’re-good-friends type of way. You bring this up to Jamie, after personally banning all talk of this with Ted, Beard, and Rebecca. Stupid Vienna. You should never have told them. 

Jamie shrugs for the millionth, infuriating time. He’s been noncommittal this whole time. You’re over here pouring out your heart and soul, considering whether you like Isaac romantically or not, and all he can say is, “I dunno?” 

This is not the Jamie Tartt you’ve become best friends with. 

That Jamie would be down to hunt this secret admirer with you. That Jamie would be helping you figure out if Isaac had a chance with you. That Jamie would be way more engaged than the one sitting in front of you right now. 

But, you suppose maybe that Jamie died in Vienna, so you stop bringing it up.

—

It’s day ten. Valentine’s Day is in four day, and you’re nervous. 

You’ve decided you don’t like Isaac like that, mainly because it shouldn’t take you that long to decide if you like anyone. There has to be an initial spark, and you shouldn’t try to manufacture it. 

Still, you’re not sure it is Isaac, so you’re not going to say anything about it. The scarlet red roses hang on your office wall, permeating the room with their scent. 

You feel like you’re dying. 

This is a cruel joke and you’re dying. 

The building is basically empty right now. Rebecca and Higgins have some meeting, the team is on the pitch (including Will) and various other staff are somewhere far away from you. So, you jump a little when Trent Crimm comes tripping into your office. 

“Vienna,” he says, no greeting. “If you didn’t want to talk about it, you wouldn’t have told anyone. I’m assuming you do want to talk about it, but you don’t want judgement from the people you love. I’m here to offer my services as a neutral party.”

You look at him. “Trent. You are a journalist. Your whole job is writing down people’s secrets. Why on earth would I talk to you about the worst day of my life?”

Trent shrugs. “I’m good at keeping secrets. This would be off the record. I’ve never lied to people about off the record, also. I consider it bad journalism.”

You consider this for a moment, then sigh. 

“Alright,” you concede. “At least if this gets out, I know whose head I’m shaving in retaliation.”

Trent looks at you in surprise, seeing you in a whole new, slightly threatening light.

“It happened two months ago. It was around Christmas, and I didn’t have anywhere to go…”

—

Your family all had their own separate plans that Christmas. Plans that didn’t really involve you. Same with your friends. You said something casually to Rebecca, and the next day she told you she had booked you a trip to Vienna. Call it an early Christmas present, she said. It was at the Aumaris Vienna, and it was gorgeous and ridiculously out of your budget, but she said you worked hard and gave her peace-of-mind, and you can’t really put a price on that, can you?

So you went. 

But here’s the thing. 

Someone else didn’t have Christmas plans. 

So when you brought up your trip at your daily lunch, said someone else casually asked, can I come? 

You almost choked on your sandwich. 

Because here’s the other thing.

You were, maybe, kind of, possibly just a little bit head over heels in love with this someone else.

You’re not sure when it happened, really, just that it was probably in August and that it was soul-crushing because you knew for an absolute fact that he did not, and never would, feel the same way. 

You didn’t tell anyone except Keeley, but under the condition that she just let you say it and that she never, ever give you a response to it. Just listen. 

She did, but you were pretty sure she almost combusted. 

But who are you to say no when Jamie Tartt invited himself on your luxurious Christmas vacation saying, I’ll pay extra to get a plane ticket next to you? 

You were doomed from the start. 

To make matters totally and impossibly worse, he couldn’t find another room. 

He had his tickets, but the hotels, he said, were packed. 

It was Christmas, after all. 

So that’s how you ended up in a luxury hotel with Jamie Tartt for a week and a half, one day of which was Christmas. 

You know the, “there was only one bed” trope that everyone thinks is so cute?

It was that, but only if you add deep, shattering heartbreak to it. 

Because every night, you had to listen to Jamie say, “goodnight, love,” and then get into that giant, soft bed as far away from him as you could manage. 

Every morning you woke up to the pillow barricade long gone, one of his arms thrown around you. Or one of your legs on top of his. Or a million different scenarios where you end up literally asleep together, some weird gravity pulling you to each other. 

You were falling so hard and so fast, that you felt like the air was knocked from your lungs when Jamie started talking about the girl he liked. 

“She’s just so fucking beautiful,” he’d say, staring at an Alpine mountain. Or, “Swear she’s the smartest fucking person I’ve ever met,” while traipsing through the city. Or, “Pretty sure she’s ruined me for everyone else,” while getting facials at the hotel spa. 

To be fair, you were the one who teased him into admitting he liked someone. 

You just didn’t expect it to hurt so much. 

The entire trip felt like heaven and hell had simultaneously converged on you, and you never wanted to leave but also desperately counted the days till it was over. 

You came back and broke down in Rebecca’s office. Ted and Beard were there. The whole thing came spilling out, about how you loved the trip so much it felt like your heart would explode but that Jamie loved someone else. 

They all exchanged looks amongst themselves and did their best to comfort you. 

You pulled yourself together and they promised never to say anything to anyone. 

—

“So that’s Vienna,” you finish. 

Trent is just staring at you, mouth slightly agape. 

He finally says, “My god, that’s fucked,” with such emotion that you decide right then and there that you like Trent Crimm and his rainbow mug. 

Now, you just shrug. “I did it to myself, honestly. That’s why I’m tripping out about this secret admirer thing. And god, Trent, the roses. They’re so beautiful and it’s so romantic, and whoever it is obviously knows me well so there’s a part of me that wants to like this person, but…” you trail off. 

“But there’s a part of you that’s hoping against hope that Jamie’s behind it all,” Trent finishes. 

You let out a little laugh. “Yeah, that about sums it up.”

Trent looks at the roses, then at you. “Maybe you should talk to Jamie,” he says, gently. 

You reply with a forceful, “No,” and then follow up with a small, “That’s what Ted and Rebecca say, too.” 

Trent stands up, shrugs, says with a small smile, “Just a thought,” then he’s out the way he came. 

—

It is Valentine’s Day. And it’s a Sunday, which means you are legally required to stay in bed until 10, at which point you will get out only to make yourself decent enough to go buy a good cup of coffee and maybe (definitely) something to eat. 

You’ve just finished putting on your shoes, when there’s a knock at the door. 

You take a breath, and get ready to let down your secret admirer as gently as possible. 

You swing open the door to reveal- 

“Jamie! What are you doing here?”

Jamie Tartt is on your doorstep, hands behind his back, looking shyer than the day you first met. 

He opens his mouth and says the last thing you’d ever expect:

“D’you remember Vienna?”

Your heart, which had already been going fast because his dumb floppy hair was all dumb and floppy in his stupid, cute headband, is now working double time. You manage a nod. 

Jamie takes this as permission to continue. “D’you remember how I couldn’t get another room, no matter how hard I tried? That wasn’t true. I could’ve.” He pauses, and you wait for him to continue. 

“And d’you remember when we met, when I told you Keeley told me to invite you out? That was a lie too.”

You tilt your head, confused. He keeps going. 

“Look- I fucked it. I fucked it a million times and I told Ted and I told Beard, but they kept helping me un-fuck it and giving me chances, and then Rebecca bought two tickets to Vienna and slipped me the other one, and they all told me I had a perfect shot.” 

You’re still not understanding what he’s saying. He might as well be speaking another language. Jamie sees the confusion in your eyes, takes a breath, and tries again. 

“Keeley told me to invite you out, but only because I’d seen you around and thought you were fit. Then Isaac and all the lads thought the same thing, so I didn’t even get to fuckin’ sit with you. And then you started sayin’ things about not bein’ ready for a relationship, so I tried to let it go. I really fucking tried. But I just couldn’t. Your eyes are too sparkly and your laugh is too fucking cute and I couldn’t let it go, so I started eating lunch with you and you fucking let me. I knew the moment I said anything about liking you, it was over.”

Comprehension has started to dawn, but you push down hope until Jamie’s done speaking. 

“Everyone told me to shoot my shot in Vienna. We shared a bed, for fuck’s sake.” Here, Jamie looks bewildered. “But I dunno, I didn’t want to make shit weird. So when you asked if I liked anyone I said yeah, and started fuckin describing you, but you never fucking picked up on it. That’s when I got the idea to try one more time. All by meself, no help from anyone else. So…yeah.”

Jamie Tartt is standing on your porch confessing his love for you on Valentine’s Day and it is not a dream, because if it were your teeth would be falling out and his hair would probably be neon pink. 

“I’m an idiot,” you breathe. “You like me? Like, like-like me?”

Jamie quirks a smile at that. “Not quite, darling. Pretty fucking sure I love you.” He pulls his hand from behind his back to reveal a bunch of scarlet red roses. The same from each gift. 

“Got these for you,” he says. “D’you know how hard it is to get red roses in February?”

You don’t answer him because you’re leaping into his arms, kissing him like you’ve thought about doing every day for what feels like forever. He’s kissing you back, hand with the flowers pressed against your back, other hand in your hair. 

“I love you too, Jamie,” you whisper against his mouth. He smiles and pulls you in again.