#they're all in it not just these three!!!!

[lukazade]

It's technically not valentines yet but like, here have a valentines gift <3

[gallusrostromegalus]

Random question, could you give some ideas on Irish names your family may have in the 1950-60s? I got a character with an Irish grandpa with 9 brothers and sisters (3 brothers and 6 sisters) and I only got the oldest sister name (soairse) and his name (Caine). I guess I could just name the rest some form of jack and Margret since those seem to be popular, but I wanted to see if there were some “interesting” names you found in your family tree that maybe one of the siblings got named after some ancestor?

Firstly for the sake of clarity: I'm American, not Irish. All of my ancestors for the last 4-5 generations have lived here, and while I like learning about the language/music/culture, I am absolutely not an expert. I HIGHLY recommend getting a sensitivity reader, I'm sure someone in the comments can wave at you if they're willing to take on the job.

Second, Triple-check the spelling, pronunciation, meaning and provenance of any names you do choose, and ABSOLUTELY DO NOT TRUST ANY BABY NAME WEBSITES, they're basically all AI slop at best. The best written-down lists and meanings are actually on Wikipedia.

Third: If you want to learn more Irish names, you can look up the names of like, any Irish musician or artist. I think spotify still has Genre Playlists, if you look up "Irish Folk" you'll get a shitload of names of Real Irish people- and hey, if Hirohiko Akari can name all his characters after 80's pop bands, you can make a subtle ref to modern musicians. Also you'll get a bunch of fun music! --- So while I was writing this, I somewhat departed from the intent of this response, and am putting the last point under a cut because the post got long. And weird.

So there is a thing in Irish-american families, and I think it's true in the British isles still where there are "Family Names", where the same set of first names is recycled over and over and over across generations. My dad's family has exactly three male names that they rotate through over the generations: Roy, Emmet and Jack*. In that order, where the son takes the father's first name as his middle name. My great-grandfather was Roy Jack Surname, my grandfather was Emmet Roy Surname, and my dad is Jack Emmet. My sister and I were AFAB, so the names skipped us and my male cousin in my generation is now Roy Jack. In the event that there are more than three living men with the same surname in the family, that's when they start reaching for the Given Names Of In-Laws We Like and might introduce a new name into the lineup.

*Names changed for privacy above and hereafter, but you get the idea.

So if any of your characters are descendants of that grandpa? They may share a first or middle name with one of his siblings. in fact, they may share the SAME first and middle name with a living relative, and be called "Junior" or "Young Firstname" to distinguish them from the relative they were named after.

My mom's family is from England and has a similar tradition: any new girl born into that family gets a name that is based on the name of one of her living female relatives, usually by sharing the same first letter or syllable. Elanor after Eloise, Vivian after Virginia, and also Jenny after Virgnia via 'Ginny' and every variation of Margret ever, which there are way more of than you'd think.

I cannot recommend doing what they did with Male names though: Name literally every boy Bob* for like five generations, and distinguish individuals by middle name (Bob-Howard and Bob-Benjamin) surname (Bob-Jones and Bob-Bailey) or Honorific (Captain Bob, Dr. Bob, Bob Jr.) when yelling out the kitchen window.

Most families have to good sense to not have the same name repeated in a generation, even if it has a shitload of nicknames. A mother and daughter might both be Margrets (with different nicknames), but two sisters or cousins wouldn't be.

If you've got in-laws you like, but their surname didn't carry over to their kids, you can also just use their surname as a first name! "Regan" is a first and last name, as are Riley and Bailey. This works out in some cases but not in others:

I have a pretty rare surname- last time I checked, there's only 14 people with it worldwide. It's similar to two other VERY COMMON Irish Surnames, but spelled different and from a different region. It's also Very Definitely A Surname- nobody would see my surname alone and think its a firstname.

Since I don't want to bandy it about, we'll pretend that it's "Breathnach", which has a similar vibe.

My Iowa family is Enormous and all descended from my Great-Aunt Lilyanne, Emmet-Roy's sister. Being a good catholic girl, Lillyanne took her husband's surname when she married, and most of her descendants still have that surname, and none have Breathnach.

After the last of my grandfathers grandchildren were born my Iowa family was sad- all but one of Emmet-Roy's grandchildren was female, and my male cousin has his father's surname. Assuming that we would all marry and take our spouses names, the Iowa family despaired that that the Breathnach name would die out!

So one of my second cousins decided that she would Carry On The Family Name, by giving it to the son she was carrying as a Firstname.

Yeah.

Being "Breathnach Surname" is bad enough, but this was compounded by the fact that the Iowa family's surname is Thomas.

YEAH.

My poor cousin Beathnach Thomas, who always has to re-do his paperwork because NOBODY ever puts the names in the correct boxes, who had his first name printed on every jersey he ever had because the uniform place went "that can't be right!", who cant buy his own beer because he's had so many drivers licenses confiscated because liquor store owners and bartenders think his ID is a fake, who has to not only spell his name to everyone he meets, but explain it too.

Then I made it worse.

I ran into cousin Beathnach in Bozeman, Montana quite by accident a few years ago, and while catching up, I mentioned that I was married.

"You know, it's a real hassle, but I'm kind of glad I've got the name I do. I'd heard you sister changed her name, and now with you married- I'd be sad to think we were running out of Breathnachs, you know?" he laughed.

I had to explain.

I married the most wonderful man in the world, who has an extremely common first and last name. Which was kind of a problem, because he shares it with some truly rotten people that always come up during background checks and he has have to explain he's not THAT asshole. It also sounds like and is only a letter or two off a lot of other very common names so his mail is constantly sent awry.

My husband will shortly abandon his too-common-for-comfort surname and become the newest Breathnach, taking the total to 15 (the paperwork takes a while).

...So the name lives on through us anyway, and poor cousin Breathnach Thomas went through all that for no reason. He got very quiet, got up from the table and walked outside to the veranda of the restaurant we were in to stare into the picturesque scenery for a while.

"Well, it's not like people change their first names..." he sighed, when he returned to the table.

"...You know how my sister changed her name? She only changed her first name. She's still a Breathnach." I explained quietly.

I've never seen a man look so haunted.

"I know lots of people who've changed their first names, actually. Mostly for transgender reasons, but a bunch because they just didn't like the one they were given." I added, because if he's going to get his world turned over, it's best to flip it all at once.

His brow furrowed at the ponderous speed of a continental collision, approaching the idea with caution. "...I'll have to think about it."

It's been about a year, but since then, I'll get a text from him every few weeks, auditioning a new given name. I do my best to be fair- I give him the meanings of those names, how they're likely to be misconstrued (some are tolerable annoyances, some pose a safety risk), and if he'd be sharing that name with anybody notable or troublesome. The first few were clearly based on Breathnach, but he began to branch out, and the trend of names has indicated that the idea of Naming Himself is causing my cousin to examine himself, and come to some Realizations (TM).

I realize I have gotten completely off-topic from your actual ask, but I urge you to really get into the nuance of nomencalture, because a name can tell a fascinating story.

[beloveds-embrace]

Back again (outside of anon lmao) to lay out the brain worm that's been chewing on my grey matter for a few days now: designationless!reader whose secondary gender presents super late in life.

It's not super unheard of for kids to present a little late. Babies don't always have their scents until after a few weeks or months, and it's a rarer chance for kids over two or three to not develop a scent or display certain qualities that are noticeably of a certain designation. But typically, if someone doesn't have a designation before they're five, they don't have one at all.

Which is why there's absolutely no protocol for it when reader wakes up one day and everything just hurts. Her body is sticky with sweat and hot to the point where it feels like the only thing able to quell the heat would be to claw her own skin open.

Everything is so overwhelming, but she hadn't realised that scents were everywhere. On her, on the blankets, in the air. Everything has a scent - she has a scent, since when did she have a scent? Overwhelming her poor nose to the point where the only way to stop the frying in her brain is to crawl into a cold shower and let it wash everything away.

Yesss but also we should really consider the aftermath 😩 spending your whole life getting used to one thing, and it gets ripped apart just like that? Devestating.

You’ve never felt more like a stranger to yourself than you do now.

The world is different. Everything is different. The air feels different- thick, heavier, like the scent of something that doesn’t belong is clinging to your skin, following you everywhere you go. It’s like you’re drowning in it, suffocating you from the inside out.

You can’t stop smelling it. Their scents. It’s there, all of them, wrapped up in the air around you, pressing in on your every move. It’s too much. Too strong. Too intimate. You don’t know how to process it- any of it, when previously there’d been nothing but candles to give you a sliver of an idea about what they smell like.

Your body aches under the weight of it all, and it’s not just from your own overwhelming heat anymore. It’s everything. Their presence, their voices, the way they’re always so near, always so protective, so unwavering. You can’t get away from them. You can’t escape the constant pull, the way your body reacts, how your mind feels like it’s turning to mush.

You don’t understand what’s happening to you. You feel... wrong. Unnatural. More than you’ve ever been.

The others are trying their best, truly. They’re there. But you can’t stop the wave of shame that crashes over you when you think of what you’ve become.

The shame of your late presentation. The shame of not being the kind of omega they expected- normal, clean and in control. Everything you are currently not.

But you’re not like that. You never have been. And now... you’re broken. As if being designationless already wasn’t so strange- you had to present so late you had no doubt you were really, truly, unnatural.

It’s too much.

They’re gentle with you, patient, but you can see it in their eyes- they’re worried. They don’t say anything, but you feel it. You feel how different you are from them now, how out of place you are with their instincts swirling around you. Their scent fills your lungs in a way that makes your heart ache, because you don’t know how to feel about it. It’s comforting but it’s too much.

You don’t know how to feel about them.

When you catch yourself shying away from their touch, feeling overwhelmed by the constant onslaught of their scent, the weight of their attention, your chest tightens with guilt. You can’t look them in the eye. It feels like an invasion.

Your body craves something you can’t give, but you don’t know how to push it away.

Your mind, too, races with irrational thoughts. Maybe you’re too much now. Too unnatural. You resent it. You don’t want it. You never wanted it. You can’t believe there’d been days you’d craved this- this mess you’ve become.

You can’t stop smelling yourself either- the newness of it, the strangeness, the instincts that have begun to claw at the back of your mind. You catch yourself trying to make a nest. You hate the way your skin burns with need whenever any of them are near, the way you feel pulled toward them without any control over it.

You want to run.

But where would you go? Where can you even go?

Johnny’s the first to try and properly talk to you, catching you in your room after you’d shoved yourself there. While command decided on what to do with you, you were exempt from missions and drills.

“Hey,” he says gently, his voice quiet, a little uncertain. “Y’alright, hen?”

You don’t answer. You can’t look at him. You don’t know how to tell him that you’re not, that you feel like you’re suffocating. That you want to bury your face in his neck and breathe until all other sensations are washed away.

“You don’t have to hide from us.” He continues, his hand reaching for your arm, but you jerk back with a sharp intake of breath, and you can hear the sharp edge of concern in his voice when he speaks again. “You’re still you. You’re not some... freak, love. We’re here.”

You squeeze your eyes shut, your breath coming too fast. Please don’t touch me.

But it’s too late.

The flood of scents, the pressure in your chest, it all rises again. The overwhelming wave of emotions, the shift of something inside you that you’ve never felt before, it’s too much to bear.

You don’t know what’s happening to you.

You don’t want them to see you like this. Even if they’d seen you the cursed day you designation presented itself.

John and Simon appear in the hallway, eyes trained on you as if they already know. Simon steps forward first, and you already know what expression he has underneath his mask. He doesn’t say anything, just watches you with a quiet understanding.

You want to yell at them, tell them to go away, but you don’t have the strength.

It’s too much.

“Love,” John says, firm but gentle, reaching for you in that way he always does. “Talk to us. Let us help.”

Kyle joins as well- you can feel his warmth as he sits down beside Johnny, not yet touching you, but the smell of concern almost chokes you.

You want to. You really do. But the words are caught in your throat, lodged there with the lump of shame, of self-loathing.

“I- I’m sorry,” you whisper, the words barely leaving your lips. “I don’t... I don’t know what to do. I’m not... I’m not like this. I wasn’t supposed to... to...”

“Hey,” Kyle says softly, his hands gentle as he slides his fingers under your chin to tilt your face up. His eyes are full of something that makes you ache. “You didn’t do anything wrong. There’s nothing to apologize for.”

Your chest tightens, and the tears you’ve been trying to hold back finally spill over, leaving a trail of shame behind them.

“I’m a mess,” you sob, your voice breaking. “I’m not supposed to be like this. I’m too late, too... too wrong.”

Simon’s hand wraps around yours, his warmth steadying you, calming the storm inside your chest just a little. They are slowly sureounding you- a living nest cocoon of warmth you are undeserving of. “You’re not wrong, lovie,” he says quietly. “You don’t have to be anything but you.”

Your eyes meet his, searching for some kind of truth. His grip tightens on yours, and the grounding presence of the others behind him steadies you just a little.

“You’re ours,” John continues in a murmur in his stead, his thumb brushing your cheek, wiping away a tear. “And that’s enough. Presenting like this doesn’t suddenly make you any less than who you were, love.”

You can’t answer, can’t process all the words they’re giving you. But their hands are on you, and their presence fills you up in a way that begins to soften the sharp edge of the shame gnawing at you.

Maybe you’re still too much for yourself. But you just… have to trust them.

Omegaverse masterlist

[wardensantoineandevka]

There's been a lot of talk about feeling like Campaign 3 fails to carry through consequences, and that is often met with criticisms framing this talk as just wanting Bells Hells or other characters to die or be punished. In return, the response to that is that "consequences" is not necessarily negative — it simply means a narrative follow through and events positive, neutral, or yes even negative happening as a consequence of what came prior.

I posted prior about what I and many meant by consequences, but generally, "a lack of consequence" means that it feels like events happen without clear connective tissue to previous events or it feels like things happen and don't feel like they're feeding properly into what comes next, that following events aren't properly carrying that weight of consequence.

But, just to further illustrate the discussion, the following is a non-exhaustive list of things I personally wish had consequences (that I could be probably better articulating):

Prism, Deanna, and FRIDA going off to do research at the Cobalt Soul, explicitly intending to try to help Bells Hells. This yielded nothing. Even a written letter to the Hells giving any information would have been great to have as a nod to that decision being made and the effort put into cultivating those friendships. (Given the reveal in the Fireside Chat that a Luxon beacon could've destroyed Predathos should research have been done, this feels even more of a missed follow through.)

The Unseelie Court not reinforcing the Malleus Key having clearer consequences. Obviously, there was a benefit to this, but it's hard to FEEL the consequences of disrupting that message because it is not clear what exactly the Unseelie Court would have provided.

Liliana chose not to broadcast the Downfall memory and what that meant to the sociopolitical scale. There is a clear consequence for her on a personal level, but this information being potentially broadcast was set up as a big looming threat, but it was difficult to really feel what would have happened, like, meaningfully, in terms of the material narrative as it affects Bells Hells, if it was broadcast, so as a result it's difficult to feel that stopping the broadcast was meaningful on a broader level.

Talking about Liliana, it feels strange that she exists within Vasselheim as a top leader of the Ruby Vanguard for, like, days without any comment. There is more (and properly delivered) tension over Opal's presence in the city. I don't think Liliana necessarily should've been arrested, I felt something like a small beat that may have required Imogen vouching for her was missing. The consequences of Liliana's position among the antagonists felt absent.

Ashton getting Shady Sally to agree to get the Nobodies back together to help save Exandria, then they'd all be free of Ashton for good. Nothing comes of this! An appearance at the forward camp in the Hellcatch when they came back from Ruidus or in Vasselheim, after the camp is evacuated there, with another opportunity to settle it with the others in the group would have been a nice consequence.

The Grim Verity, especially outside of Ryn, continued to meaningfully exist and the theft of the texts from Vasselheim mattered past the Predathos, Vordo, and Ethedok reveal exposition. It was a team of three people who stole the texts, and one of them, Arnold, was captured and presumed still held at the Platinum Sanctuary and another, Janina, was keeping tabs on the excavation site in the Hellcatch to keep everyone updated on what the Vanguard was doing. It would have been nice to see the Grim Verity more involved in this campaign, because they're the initial hook into the campaign itself! Learning about them and making contact with them stopped yielding any sort of narrative results. (The thing about research in the first point applies here too.)

Judicators. They are introduced, and then nothing is done with them at all. They factor in so minutely, and we understand so little about them, that it's hard to even talk about them as thematic pieces without engaging in a lot of speculative thinking.

I am known to be frustrated with Ashton philosophically, but I am baffled that the conversation they had in their vision in the earth titan in 110 did not come up again at all in any of their subsequent argumentations about the world changing. I am certain that it would've driven me nuts, but I have liked to see that carried forward. It would've contributed a lot to feeling like perspectives were being built upon as a consequence of interactions.

Generally, the Titans are barely mentioned after that episode, btw. There was a lot of time spent on pursuing the idea of the Titans, even sometimes outright brushing past NPCs who repeatedly said that the Titans were dead, only for it to get dropped so suddenly. It feels especially strange when one of the major points of contention Ashton and Laudna brought up was the war against the Titans. Not even a final note about what this means in the tapestry of history or an acknowledgement that they indeed cannot be restored as they were or what? We spent a lot of time on this discussion, but fail to carry it through into the final thematic and philosophical decisions.

On that note, it's established that there is a destiny in which Ashton is to bestow the spark onto another, and there is a sense of fate then for Fearne in it. Since they both struggle with being locked into a path, I did feel missing an exploration of what it then MEANT for them to pursue this. As soon as these abilities are unlocked, there isn't a meaningfully thorough exploration of what they mean as narrative devices and their implications for Fearne and Ashton, at a personally transformative level.

The anti-resurrection toxin and its antidote. I know that it is used against Keyleth and there is a payoff in that the Hells successfully help her, but I don't understand why this toxin didn't continue to be used, especially given the campaign was supposed to be deadlier. Why wouldn't the Ruby Vanguard, but especially someone as vicious and ruthless as Otohan, continue to use it? It had such a prominent presence in the campaign and then vanished from it. We don't even have a sense of how it locked away divine magic and what connection it has to Ruidians or Predathos, which have similar divine dampening ability. Having it continue to be used in the campaign would've also made it continually rewarding that Bells Hells did that work to help Keyleth because the Air Ashari would have available antidote.

Stopping there not because I ran out of examples, but because this list is getting incredibly long — thought I reserve the right to add more later should I think of really good ones. But this is just some of the plot points and threads and conversations that I wish I felt led somewhere or had consequences, and you can see that not all of them are about punishing characters at all, just a desire for things to feel like they were going somewhere and were properly tied off.

[seat-safety-switch]

Where I live, it's hard to go out for a run in the middle of a bitterly cold winter. You still need to getyoursteps though. Or you'll die. Two kinds of people emerge from this necessity: treadmill people, and mall people. Unfortunately, the habitat for the latter types is quickly becoming extinct, and the remaining malls are bursting at the seams with joggers, walkers, strollers, and stroller-pushers. That's why the government hired me.

My project? To design the ultimate mall for people who were only at the mall in order to gettheirsteps. As a species, we've evolved past the requirement to go to a retail store and interact with another human being in order to buy things. So instantly we thought: just make a giant loop, put some furnaces in it, and good to go. No. The mind, it turns out, craves the artifice of a shopping mall.

There's precedent for this. One of the interns dug up this picture from the 4th century where a bunch of peasant children had drawn in the dirt a very realistic floorplan of the Mall of America, despite it not actually being built for nearly a couple thousand years. Come to think of it, it's a little weird there's a photograph of this. Maybe we'll have to talk to the boys down in Time Dilation Central. It's a good walk to that office. I can getmysteps.

Anyway, the project evolved at that point. We installed a bunch of mall stores selling tchotchkes that nobody would ever want. Sixteen cell phone stores. Three different places selling memory-foam mattresses. At one point, we even added a food court, but this made the health department really upset. Explaining to them that this was all artifice didn't dissuade them. Don't they know we're trying to make a place where we can getoursteps and don't have time to satisfy every little requirement about a "vent hood?" Nobody would be stupid enough to actually eat at any of these places if they were trying to stay healthy. Turns out, our first week, some dude rolled up to the New York Fries and bought a poutine for after his walk. When our scientists (in disguise: wearing hoodies over their lab coats) asked him about it, he said simply that he was "bulking."

Now, we all know what happened near the end of the project. When they heard that we had a viable place for legal human experimentation, these guys from the CIA moved right in. Started all these crazy experiments, like giving monkeys a pedometer to see if they'd want to gettheirsteps too. Adding a button where you could shock people who were walking too slowly in front of you. Turning the loop into a figure-eight so you had to dodge incoming joggers while you were trying to jog. I'd deny any responsibility for it, except those spy bastards hit a vein of gold. The Great Plains Mall is now the most successful indoor running track in history. They're gonna have the Olympics there next week. And I'll be there, getting my steps.

[writerben01]

I'd really like a narrative of like, three sisters who are all seamstresses at the start. And the first would ennjoy nothing more than to stay sewing, but she has to put her smarts into a 'girl power' narrative where she has to do something like become the first female mayor of her town.

And all the while she's envious+proud of her little sister who is using the same kind of smarts and the same dedication to innovate sewing and designs. And it needs to be extremely clear that both have the potential to do both things, because both are hard and both require smarts and both are worthy of respect.

But it's really important there's a third sister, who isn't quite as smart as the other two, but who is still a dedicated learner and hard worker. She isn't pulled away from her job as a seamstress and she isn't distracted by ways to innovate, which frees her up to just create with the skills she's been taught. So that everyone in the story is wearing something this third sister made. She made the blankets that keep the babies warm at night, and the suits the politicians use to show how much better they are than everyone else. She loves her sisters dearly and expresses that by making sure they're clothed. And she completes the trio by showing nobody needs to be 'worthy of respect'. We're all humans trying to exist together in tight collaboration. Why should we only vallue accomplishment, and not the unseen work that's required for people to have the time for those accomplishments?

i think what bothers me about a lot of "girl power" narratives is that they function on the implicit idea on the idea that women can become worthy of respect. and i happen to think that really caring about women means believing they already are worthy of respect. that historical seamstresses and soccer moms and forgotten sisters and sweet polite little girls and someone's weird grandma matter just as much as the warriors and politicians, even if they, personally, never accomplish anything "cool."

[obeymeluv]

In Your Defense [PT 2 - Octavinelle, Scarabia, Pomfiore]

You decide to work at Sam's for Valentine's Day and your crush just happens to hear a customer hitting on you. If they get arrested, can you be their alibi?

AKA: This person has a death wish and you find out your crush might be jealous?

Note: Each one is random and some will be longer than others. If I made everyone the same length this thing would be MASSIVE and I would probably die.

Not proofread because of the length. Trying to get everyone done today. It's my last day off for a few.

Whatever part Ortho is in will be platonic, obvs.

Happy V-day!

Azul is no stranger to visiting different shops to stay on top of trends. Valentine's Day wasn't something they had in the Coral Sea so this trip was more for the experience than anything. He's taking in the overwhelming but impressive amount of red, pink, and white decorations while trying to look at the other shoppers out of the corner of his eye.

What are they buying? What's most popular?

The holiday seems too brief to plan a full menu, or even to-go specials. Maybe he can do something next year.

There's an emphasis on chocolates and sweets. He's not even eating any of it and his teeth hurt! The small chocolate assortments make more sense than the huge brick of chocolate--dark chocolate?--several Pomfiore students are planning to split between themselves. His stomach hurts at the thought of trying to eat even a third of what they're holding.

In his opinion it's an unimpressive holiday. A marketable one for sure, but unimpressive. Clearly it's meant for the nice, sentimental, mushy people out there.

Not to say there's no one he'd spoil. No one he cares about. Matter of fact, he's got something crunchy in his basket for Floyd! And if it weren't for his mother living underwater, she might like some of these cutesy knickknacks! A set of cookie cutters catch his eye and Azul throws them in his basket without thinking.

Damn hand-brain.

He stares into his own basket, wondering what the justification is. There's a part of his brain saying he doesn't need a reason but he's not an impulsive person. He's a practical person and the practical reason he needs those cookie cutters is to make cookies for the lounge in case any poor soul misses their chance to get something from Sam's!

Yes. Yes, that's it.

He may or may not be trying to tell you he likes you by collecting heart-shaped things. You'll check him out at the register and he'll just keep handing you heart things. Offering his heart over and over.

Not that you'd know. Azul doesn't have the guts to tell you yet. He's got three hearts but no guts.

It's just not the right time, he tells himself. Not the right way.

He puts sprinkles and chocolate stirring spoons into his basket. There's a little mushroom figurine that has white hearts instead of the usual spots. That's for Jade.

Azul weaves between the shelves to get to the refrigerated section, buying a couple of cartons of milk and ice cream. He's not fast but he's stronger than he looks. Aside from the work in his mother's restaurant in the Coral Sea, cooking on land has cultured a lot of muscle in unexpected ways--straining full stockpots, blending quarts of sauces, roasting whole chickens, and hefting huge fish onto the cutting board for portioning. It'll be nothing to carry it all back.

He just doesn't like to do it. And he doesn't like to lose his voice or go completely pink in front of you, but he does. Azul tries to look without looking, charmed by the glittery dangle in your hair and how it brings out the color of your eyes.

Then, he hears it. "How much do you cost?"

It is not enough to beg his pardon. The Seven must also be begged.

A fury whips up inside of him. He's furious that it's just so easy for that lander to chat you up. He's furious that he's not confident enough to do it when he's been drowning in these feelings for weeks. The manager part of his brain kicks in and he becomes furious that you're being accosted on the clock.

SAM WOULD NEVER, BUT WHERE IS HE?! STAFF SHOULD NOT BE MADE TO ENDURE SUCH CONDITIONS!

"Hardly appropriate for the occasion, don't you think?" Azul has stepped in with his signature smooth smile and calm demeanor. He has no cane, hat, or coat at the moment but he knows he makes people uncomfortable without them. There's something about him that makes people nervous. The pecking dread of 'he's human but not totally human' makes them jumpy and very prey-like.

"I-I was just messing around," the guy deflects.

"There's a time and a place. Unfortunately, it's not here and not now. You're interrupting the flow of business and I don't think the other patrons are happy," Azul hums a little as he and the abysmal Casonova look back at all the people in line. They are, in fact, not happy.

"I'll just go." he grabs the change bashfully and doesn't look back.

Azul thanks the person who let him cut in line, half wondering if said person will come back and try to coax a favor out of him. "Thanks, Azul." you smile at him.

"You're most welcome." Azul adjusts his glasses before layering the bags on his arms. You help him with the door. "I'd be happy to treat you to a milkshake. You know, something sweet to make up for whatever THAT was." he gestures to the guy in the distance.

WHY IS HE TALKING? WHY DID HE KEEP TALKING? THE LEGS NEED TO MOVE BUT THEY'RE NOT!

"Sounds great! I'll stop by after my shift."

"Okay," his voice cracks a bit but you don't hear it because the door's already closed. He breaths a sigh of relief.

----

Floyd was sent to pick through the pink and red chaos at Sam's while Jade and Azul redecorated for a Valentine's special at the lounge. It was a last-minute idea inspired by the deluge of advertising. They'd gotten bigger things in town like tablecloths and fancy napkins but smaller treats were lacking. He was tasked with getting melting chocolates and pre-made stuff to balance out the strawberries and fresh groceries they bought.

A big, aggravated sigh passed through his sharp teeth. The line is long and he doesn't really want to do this. Floyd feels his brain shutting off as his looks at heart streamers and silver-and-pink tinsel. At least I won't have to slave over a hot burner all night, Floyd sighs again as he looks at the goods and wonders what would make Azul happy.

The menu will be limited. Each item is heart-shaped, sweet, or both. It honestly just sounds like an excuse to sell people overpriced sugar.

Floyd buys a couple packs of melting chocolates in different colors and some crunchy sour candies for the trouble. Jade sends him a text asking him to grab a couple of cans of whipped cream for the pancakes and crepes. He steps out of line, grabs the cans, and pauses when he hears the guy shoot his shot.

"How much do you cost?"

Really?

Landers are so weird. They don't seem to have any conditions for mating. Why would you entertain this dude when he hasn't shown you he could provide or protect you? Spending money to buy things so he could talk to you isn't the way to provide. Buying your time is no different than those underwater pricks trying to curry his dad's favor with gifts.

It's disingenuous and disgusting.

"I don't see a 'for sale' sign. Can't buy it if it's not advertised." Floyd frowns at the little worm in front of him, sharp teeth poking out beneath his upper lip. "That's how shops work if you didn't know." Floyd laughs.

He was stupid enough to ask you out so he might be too stupid to realize why that pickup line didn't work.

"R-Right." the guy nods, swallowing thickly. Floyd was absently rolling his shoulder, annoyed with how long he'd held the basket. The guy noticed his working muscle and booked it, grabbing most of his change. A coin skipped off the counter, twinkling under the lights. Giggling to himself, Floyd stooped to pocket the change.

"Heya Shrimpy,"

"Hey Floyd," you started scanning the basket of items.

"Ya hungry? It's pretty busy in here."

"A little." you admitted. "But I'll be off soon. I can go back to Ramshackle and make something."

"Nah, come to the Lounge! We're doing specials for groups and couples."

"Does Grim count?" you give a little laugh. Azul lets him in sometimes depending on his attitude. At the very least, he'll let Grim get something to go.

"You get the best deal if you go with me. I'll buy your whole meal." Floyd wiggles his eyebrows at you playfully. His gold eye shines.

"Oh! I like that! I'll bite!"

"A bit early for that but I'll see you there." Floyd knows what he said has confused you. You landers aren't really keen on stuff from the Coral Sea but that's okay. He had a date with you and that's what matters.

----

Jade isn't quite sure what Sam's inventory will hold but he's been tasked with finding interesting things for the Lounge. Pink things, shiny things, profitable things--anything. Azul is convinced it will give him an edge over other places to eat. Never mind the fact that convenience is key and the students don't want to pay for the bus fare or compete with crowds in town.

He peruses the chocolate molds and candy necklaces, amused by the fact you can wear it and eat it. What a novel idea! Sam put a few types of tea on reserve for him and Jade knew they were pretty shades of pink and blue when brewed so that was something. The mer picks up a box of crunchy straw-like things and puts them in the basket. If they don't work as real straws, they can be milkshake accents.

Loaf cakes catch his eye. You could get at least ten slices out of each; top them with a bit of ice cream and you have a cheap but elegant-looking dessert. He puts a few in the basket. Teas considered, Jade is confident in his choices and ready to check out.

"Oya oya? What's this?" Jade's golden eye pierces the spineless lander in front of him. Did his ears deceive him or were you being accosted by unworthiness? "Do repeat yourself. I'm interested."

It sounds like an ask but it's not. It's a demand. A demand for this man to prostrate himself as an apology for his inferiority. For the gall to so much as breathe in your presence.

A punishment for conceiving the notion to approach you, he supposes. A light punishment, all things considered. Jade was capable of far more than some casual embarrassment, after all. His smile was polite but his words were anything but. "Go on. You may not have their full attention but you have mine."

"J-Just forget I said anything, okay?" the guy completely ignores him to whimper to you. He snatches whatever he bought so quick Jade doesn't know what it was.

No matter.

"Hello there," Jade smiles down at you. You definitely fit the holiday theme. Oh! Does that mean he should take you back to the lounge? You're interesting and that fits Azul's criteria.

Yes, he thinks you'd be perfect in the lounge.

"Hi Jade." you pack his items away dutifully. You bag the teas carefully.

Pink and shiny--yes, you must come to the lounge.

"Seeing as you're working for Sam today, I'd love for you to stop by and try these teas. I'm sure he'll appreciate feedback from more than just myself."

"I can make time for tea."

"Perfection."

----

Kalim is admiring the myriad of pinks and reds, bracelets and bangles jingling as he skips into Sam's. Valentine's Day is an interesting holiday. It's practically bursting at the seams with color and he's delighted to know red features heavily. The holiday is practically made to host in Scarabia!

Maybe they could make a red-inspired menu? A red and pink menu? He can't really think of foods that would fit the theme and he'd rather not give Jamil a stomach ache trying all of the chocolate things in here. Kalim trots off to look at the flowers and trinkets, just narrowly avoiding Jamil's stern grab. "Don't run off without me!" Jamil chastises, Kalim giving a half-hearted hum as he analyzed a pair of gold and red earrings.

They weren't cheap but they weren't expensive, either. The price point was fair, Kalim thought. Being who he was, he'd learned to tell the quality of gems and gold from a young age.

Would you like jewelry? He's never seen you wear jewelry. Kalim has bugged Jamil about you a million times, bouncing ideas off of him until he was so frustrated he left the room.

"I think they'd appreciate food more, given their circumstances." Jamil puts the earrings back on the shelf.

"But I always give them food, Jamil! Don't you think they want something different?"

"You're overthinking, Kalim," Jamil taps him in the forehead with a finger. "People are simple. Give them food and attention."

"I would've taken them out on a carpet ride but someone hid my carpet." even when Kalim was trying to cut his red eyes and look peeved, it didn't work. His face was too round and cherubic for it.

"I don't trust that thing," Jamil huffs, guiding him back to the line.

Kalim listens to people talk about plans to split chocolates and call relatives to see what they'd like and a sad pang cuts through him.

Why isn't it that easy for him? He's got more money than people could ever dream of and yet he feels like he's not doing enough for you.

Not that you'd know what he's done for you. He hasn't exactly said he likes you yet. Surely he'd made it obvious with all the invites to Scarabia, right? You hadn't quite caught on to the grocery drops yet but he understands the confusion; Crowley took credit for at least one of those and Kalim was not happy.

"I see an empty-handed Imp!" Sam makes him and Jamil jump. "Are my wares not enough for you, Little One?" he tuts at Kalim's empty hands.

"Oh there's lots of cool stuff!" Kalim promises, smiling brightly. "I just have to be careful about what I eat!"

"What about some roses? Those are popular! They're up there by the register. And we have small fruit arrangements in the refrigerated section, of course."

"Actually, we're just here to deliver an invitation." Jamil redirects Kalim when he seems to be thinking about going to the refrigerated section.

"We could get some festive napkins!" Kalim is leafing through packs of heart designs and colors. Sam seems satisfied. Jamil heaves an irritated sigh as the store owner moves on to his next mark.

Kalim almost drops the napkins when he hears what the guy said to you. It takes Jamil by surprise, too. Jamil starts to panic when Kalim doesn't move; Kalim's outbursts were rare but even rarer were the moments he just froze.

A frozen Kalim means he's contemplating. Dipping his toes into the side of himself he doesn't ever show because it disgusts and disappoints him. The young boy squares his shoulders and raises his head in a way that proves he was raised with etiquette and presence. It's the walk of someone unconcerned because he has so much money that nothing is a problem.

Quick as a flash that cunning, stewing heaviness disappears. Kalim hooks his arm around the guys neck, taking him by surprise. Disarmed by his sunny grin and stunned by his boldness, he stumbles over to a wall of cards. Jamil slithers through the aisles and positions himself just so to listen.

In these rare moments, when Kalim puts on that face, they think alike. Kalim hates these moments because it shows him that people just want money. That they'll trip over themselves for enrichment, compromising morals and anything else as long as the price is right.

But this time it works in his favor.

"Instead of asking how much they cost," the sunniness slowly drains from Kalim's voice, "ask yourself how much it would cost for you to leave them alone. Like, not ask them out again. At all. Ever."

It's the first time someone at NRC realizes Kalim's not all sunshine and rainbows. And that his pampered life hasn't left him completely soft. Kalim had to go through the same training Jamil did, being the heir to a massive fortune and all. He needs to be able to hold his own even though he shouldn't expect to.

Only he and Jamil know some of his rings are hollow and hold poisons. The guy doesn't know how close he is to said poisons.

"Y'know, it's, uh..it's on me. Free." the guy squeaks out, dipping out from under Kalim's arm.

Content, Kalim skips up to you and hands you the decorated envelope with gold calligraphy. "Please come to my party!" he looks at you hopefully, eyes shining.

"I would love to! You know I love your parties!"

"Perfect! I'll pick you up when you're done, okay?" Kalim waves to you.

"KALIM DON'T LEAVE! WE HAVE TO PAY FOR THE NAPKINS! COME BACK!" Jamil has no idea how many sets of napkins he just left with. "Keep the change," he breaths, darting after him.

----

Jamil was taking a rare moment to himself. Lilia and Cater promised they'd keep Kalim occupied for a little while so he could take a breather. They both understood what it was like to look after people, even if it wasn't as serious or to the same degree. The Pop Music Club sessions were normally two hours long, so he had time. Kalim had been yammering nonstop about the Sam's Valentine's setup so Jamil promised to take a look on his behalf.

He grew up around unfathomable finery, almost indulgent to the point of foolishness. Gold forks, gold plates, a knife handle carved from a tree in the Sunset Savanna and inlaid with diamonds--you name it. Perhaps that was why nothing caught his eye, Jamil thought.

So many people were excited about it, though. He had to put himself in their shoes. Their average shoes, just like he was forced to be average lest Kalim feel inadequate.

Poor thing, Jamil rolled his eyes. He was a pro at filtering out noise thanks to Kalim and his ridiculous number of siblings. It was easy to let his brain go and really look at the trinkets and seasonal food. Loathe as he was to admit, some of this stuff was cute.

Jamil let himself bask in the happiness. The freedom.

This is what he wanted for himself one day--traveling, seeing the sights, sampling unusual foods at special times of the year.

Maybe this wasn't so silly after all.

He picked up a few packets of instant curry, only what he felt he could eat and dispose of before fetching Kalim. Curry was a huge weakness of his and he hated that Kalim practically banned it. The amount of caffeine and tea he drank probably bordered on unhealthy (or at least deserved research) but it didn't stop him from throwing a canned coffee into his basket. Because he liked his curry savory and hot, he threw in a strawberry-rose milk drink. It seemed interesting.

Jamil felt the crick in his neck when he snapped his head up in disbelief. Who was this nobody asking you out?!

HOW MUCH DO YOU COST?!

With no Kalim here to temper him, to distract him or force him into the mediocrity, Jamil thought of letting go and lighting the guy up just because.

It really was appalling, his approach. Nothing to offer? What talents or skills did he have? What made him so special, more special than anyone else at NRC?

Nothing, that's what. He probably didn't even know HALF of what Jamil did!

"More than you will ever earn," Jamil answered him. "I'm sure your capacity to make money is on the same pitiful level as your self-awareness. Or do you need glasses to see they're not interested?"

He was known for his biting wit so this was nothing out of character. The way he stared into the boy as if to set him on fire might have been, had no one ever seen him try to get Floyd to cooperate in Basketball Club.

He'd earned his Viper namesake, the boy's ego clearly bitten and bruised as he dragged himself away. His words were deadly, much like Viper venom. Jamil didn't bother watching him leave, setting his basket quietly on the counter and taking out the items.

"Thank you."

All of that venom suddenly dried up. Jamil was feeling quite shy and toothless, not that he'd ever admit it. If he looked up at you, he knew he'd be done for. He could feel his neck heating up.

Unable to resist poking a little fun at him--when did you ever see him blush?--you handed him the change and slapped a smiley face sticker on the back of his hand.

IT HAD HEART EYES!

"I have to go." Jamil took off.

----

Vil was disciplined ninety-five percent of the time so he could indulge the other five percent. Rook all but dragged him to Sam's, waxing poetic about the holiday in all it's pink, sugary glory. He even made Vil promise not to look at any labels while he shopped. Or he could just compromise and let Rook buy him one sweet that he would have to eat no matter what.

That didn't seem too bad, so Vil conceded. Live a little, right?

Several companies had reached out to him in the beginning of February but their products were gluttonous and made him feel sick just looking at them. He felt like he'd be doing his followers a disservice to promote them because they just looked like death in a package. The only one he'd considered so far was a juice from an organic company called 'Beautiful Blends'.

No, not because they had beautiful in the name. The ingredients were organic--he researched the farms--and they had a nutritionist and dietician developing the blends. They had a blend for energy, immune support, digestion, and even one for headache relief. He was interested in the actual beauty blend; it had strawberry, coconut milk, collagen, and several other things he was interested in. It was a milky pink and perfect for Sam to sell during Valentine's Day.

NRC wasn't exactly health-minded outside of Pomfiore so he wasn't worried about missing out. He broke off from Rook, moving with grace and purpose to the refrigerated section. Vil took a split second to admire his reflection in the glass door, satisfied with his skin and the loose hair that escaped his half-bun but had the courtesy to frame his face despite its disobedience. His ring and nails clinked against the glass bottle but he paid it no mind.

"Would you like a basket?" Rook offered his. Vil peered curiously into said basket, unsurprised to see other flavors of Beautiful Blends in there. Rook knew him eerily well. Maybe he knew which ones he'd like to try. He also knew Vil was against overconsumption and wouldn't buy them all at once nor of his own volition.

"I'm fine, thanks." Vil smiled at him, appreciating his constant presence. His discipline and tenacity tended to chase a lot of people away but not Rook. There were people who appreciated him for his routines and followed him loyally, but not like Rook.

Rook wasn't just a 'yes' man. He was Vil's balance in every aspect. As if to prove that, he took the Beautiful Blend from Vil and put it in the basket. Vil didn't like his hands getting wet because that messed with the lotion he applied and it left a weird film on his hands the rest of the day.

"I just said--I BEG YOUR PARDON?" Vil was caught off guard by the flirtation and couldn't believe his ears. It was rare for anyone to surprise him but some NOBODY is trying to make nice with HIS POTATO?!

AS IF!

All he can manage is, "HOW GAUCHE!" as he breezes to the front of the line and stares at the man, absolutely floored. This moment would be a permanent reference for any scene where he needed to look surprised. And lost for words.

And disgusted. And furious.

"You don't think we'd make a cute couple?" the guy teases.

"You want to know what I think?" Vil proceeds to systematically point out the guy's flaws--posture, hair, that one zit coming up in the middle of his forehead--before pointing out that his greatest offense is his sheer selfishness. He's selfish for putting you in a situation where you might cave under peer pressure!

"That's enough, Roi du Poison," Rook shushed him, patting his arm and forcing it down so Vil quit pointing at the little gremlin. If he didn't stop him, he'd keep going. Rook was secretly glad he'd grabbed the Beauty Blend out of his hand earlier; if he was any more worked up it might've gone across the guy's head.

The guy was stunned by the takedown. Vil pointed out things he hadn't thought about. Things he was already insecure about (Vil could tell). "Apologize!" Vil barked in that Housewarden voice.

"I'm sorry." the guy left with whatever trash he bought.

Vil took a moment to compose himself, hands on his hips as he watched the gremlin leave. Fully relaxed, Vil walked to the counter and motioned for Rook to hand him the basket. He set everything out like nothing happened.

"Thank you, Vil."

"It was nothing." he clicked his tongue, waving his hand dismissively.

"Not to me."

Oh, you're clever. And honest. And cute. Maybe he'll drop a hint about his crush in his next interview. Rook forgets he knows French, too, and Vil smashes his hat down on his head on the off chance you know what 'he wants to love you and hug you and kiss you' is in French.

----

It's only natural that Rook would show up for the Valentine's Day sale. He is, after all, a lover of love. Sam never fails to disappoint with his wares and Rook is having a grand time perusing the aisles. There's copious amounts of candy, thoughtful cards, card games for couples, and fill-in-the-blank books with cute phrases and poems!

"You're mine," he smiles at said book, putting it in his basket. There's condensed versions of romantic classics and, had he not read them a million times before, that would be in his basket too. He picks up a pair of heart-shaped glasses for Vil. The desire for liver pate rises in him and he doubles back to check the canned meats. Midway through his careful search, he hears the...attempt...at woo.

A sad, beautiful, nervous attempt.

Rook rises to his full height, feather on his hat dancing almost indignantly as he moves to the front of the aisle. He has half a mind to huck that can of pate hard enough to scare the boy but that would not be very beaute of him.

"Mon amie," Rook drapes his arm around the boy's neck with a disappointed sigh, "There is much to teach you in when it comes to romance."

"Like what? I--" Rook knows that's rhetorical and the guy could care less what he's going to say but he uses his uniqueness to his advantage. He launches into a small monologue about how romance is considerate and kind, not brash and unrefined like that heartfelt confession. Love is delicate like morning dew and tender like the tempting embrace of your bed seconds before you have to get up for the day. Above all, love is knowing your partner in all aspects, which includes when things have gone too far and are not welcome.

Sure, a handful of people left the store entirely but mission accomplished. The guy left shortly after Rook subtly dragged his confession. Satisfied, Rook flashed you a kind smile and unpacked his basket.

"And sometimes love wears a purple hat with a little feather." you smirk at him.

"Oh, Trickster! My heart!" Rook places his hands on his cheeks, face a pretty pink that compliments his green eyes.

---

In the spirit of Valentine's Day, Vil loosened the reigns of Pomfiore's diet for the day. Epel wasn't going to look a gift horse in the mouth and immediately set off for Sam's. With luck, he'd still have some meats on sale. The holiday was all about fluff and pink and sweets so he wasn't worried about missing out on macarons.

To his delight, there was a selection of macarons. He was in hog heaven! If anyone heard the noise he made, it was probably the deepest and most demented thing they'd heard since Vil got his paws on him and 'refined' him. Epel was going to eat himself sick and regret it in the morning but not right now.

He picked up a second basket just for meats, afraid to crush his beloved macarons. The hamburger buns could share a basket with them, but not the meats. Knowing he had a calorie pass for the day unleashed something primal in Epel. All of a sudden he had SO MANY IDEAS.

Bacon burger? Bacon burger.

Hell, he could even make himself a little less homesick and have a traditional Harvestinian breakfast! He put a small thing of breakfast sausages in the basket. The instant grits were a bit of an insult, as was the 'heat and eat' pulled pork but the portion was reasonable and it wouldn't be money down the drain if Vil confiscated it tomorrow.

His patience begins to thin as he waits in line. The baskets are heavy but they're nothing he can't handle, growing up on a farm and all. The line doesn't seem to be moving at all! What in tarnation?, Epel squints menacingly, leaning out of line to see what the hold up was.

DID THAT NOBODY JUST ASK HOW MUCH YOU COST?!

It's clear you're uncomfortable and even MORE clear that this dude is NOT GETTING THE HINT.

As someone who's been hit on more than he cared for, this makes him mad on a whole 'nother level. You're doing all the right things--redirecting, professional body language--but this guy thinks he's going to get his way.

He's not. Everyone knows it but no one's saying anything.

Well he's gonna. What would his grandma say if he just stood by in a situation like this? He puts his hair up in a ponytail and glares at the guy.

"Were you raised in a barn? Couldn't be because EVEN ANIMALS KNOW WHEN TO LEAVE ALONE AN' GIT!" he gets louder with each word, rolling ups his sleeves. He spares his meat basket a quick glance and picks up the still-cold bacon. It's firmer than the hamburger patties and could give a decent wallop. "GO ON NOW, GIT!" Epel brandishes the bacon.

The guy is understandably confused and concerned. Probably the first time he'd been threatened with cold food. If he wasn't going for beef and bacon, he would've snagged a bag of frozen chicken wings and really wailed on the guy.

"I SAID GIT!" Epel chases him out like the dog he is, the guy narrowly dodging a bacon smack.

Word was going to get back to Vil for sure but he didn't care.

"Looks like you're going to have a good time!" you ring up the meats.

"I'm a free man today! Of course I'm gonna have a good time!"

"Have a good day, Epel. Thanks for stopping by!"

"I...I'd have a better time if you wanted to come eat some of this with me. I-I was plannin' on inviting Jack and Deuce, too. And Ace. Ace likes hamburgers. Vil lets me grill outside of Pomfiore sometimes." he starts to ramble, voice getting smaller and smaller as he goes.

"Sure! I'll grab some drinks and stuff when I get off." you smile, double-bagging the meats.

He's red as an apple when he leaves and that'll get back to Vil, too, but he doesn't care.

[ssour-apathyy]

. . . ⇢ ˗ˏˋ signed, with love

hockey player!vi x basketball player!caitlyn x cheerleader!reader, fluff, secret love messages, pining, reader is lowk a dumbass, use of y/n

word count; 1,899

summary; as valentines day approaches, you start to receive anonymous declarations of love, only to find out they're sent by the last people you'd suspect

a/n; happy valentines day!! this is my little gift to you all, and i hope you enjoy. i'm gonna go ahead and claim that it's a bit awkward because they're high-schoolers and NOT because i don't know how to write stuff like this jdhfsjhfdj

It was the week before Valentine's Day at Piltover High, and the excitement buzzing through the air was almost palpable. The annual holiday event was in full force, where students were able to send love themed cards to each other, be it anonymous or not.

The hallways were abuzz with giggles and murmurs as students speculated who had sent them cards, who might send them cards, and the reactions of those they had sent them to. Everybody seemed to be deep in the tradition, well, everybody except for you.

You weren't insanely popular, but you weren't not popular. A nice middle ground, some may say. You had been on the cheer squad for a year now, which naturally meant you were higher up on the pyramid of social status compared to the rest of the student body. This wasn't the problem, the problem was that you just weren't interested in anybody.

You told yourself it was a mixture of nobody being interesting enough, and just not having enough time to pursue anybody. If you weren't doing anything cheer related, you were studying. If you weren't doing either of those things, you were spending time with Caitlyn and Vi.

Caitlyn- easily the most popular person at school. Captain of the basketball team, tall and beautiful, and just so nice. Not that fake, only doing this to keep up appearances, nice either, like actually nice. And then there's Vi- breakout star of the hockey team, a little rough around the edges, but so fucking hot. Together, they were the very top of the food chain, everybody's favourite couple, and absolutely unstoppable.

You had been friends with them for a few months now, when you had cheered at one of Caitlyn's games and she couldn't help but watch you the entire time. She just had to talk to you after the game was done, and Vi was on board immediately. All it took was one conversation and it was like you three had been friends for years, and suddenly were inseparable.

The three of you had lunch together every day. Vi would walk you to classes, Caitlyn would walk you to cheer practice, any spare time you had outside of school was almost always spent with them. People had tried to joke about you being their third wheel, but the look that Vi had sent their way had them promptly shutting their mouths. You didn't mind, though. Never at any point did you feel uncomfortable or left out, and you were happy to see your best friends so in love.

What you didn't know, however, is that both Caitlyn and Vi were absolutely smitten with you. Their feelings were small at first, like a small sprout popping up in Spring. That was until you had gone on a week vacation and they realised how much they missed you, and THEN you just had to go and bring them both home a gift- a basketball keyring for Caitlyn and a hockey stick one for Vi- and suddenly the small sprout was a grand oak tree and they just couldn't keep lying to themselves anymore.

They had a long talk between themselves, discovered that they were both on the same page, and started to plan how they would approach the subject. They cared too much to risk jeopardising your friendship by just springing it on you, so they knew that it had to be perfect.

── ⟢

Your eyebrows furrowed as the small card slipped out of your open locker door, fluttering to the ground in front of you. You slipped your textbooks into the locker before kneeling down to pick it up, turning it over in your hands as you stood back up. It was cute, a little doodle of a steaming coffee cup with 'Words cannot espresso how much you mean' written underneath. No name. You let out a soft chuckle and a little shake of your head as you slipped the card into your bag, and didn't think much of it. Probably just one of the girls on the cheer squad sending them to the team.

And then there was another.

'If I could start my life over again, I would find you sooner so that I could love you longer ♡'

"What the fuck.." you mumbled, looking around you to the other students filling the hallway, trying to see if anybody was looking suspicious. Nobody had ever shown an interest in you, not really, so to start suddenly getting valentine's cards was surprising to say the least.

Every day up until the 14th, there was a new card waiting for you. Every day they seemed to get more and more personal, and there was no doubt in your mind that they were meant for you and you alone. The girls on the cheer squad had no idea about it, but they were fawning over the cards that you had gotten, studying each one carefully. When you tried to ask Caitlyn and Vi, they had played it beyond cool.

"Wow, seems you've got yourself a secret admirer, huh? You sure you've not been out there flirting up a storm when we're not around?" Vi had teased you, causing your cheeks to burn as you snatched the card from her with a scoff.

"You don't recognise the handwriting?" Caitlyn had queried, even though it was no use. The messages in anonymous cards were written by the students handing them out for this very reason.

You got the final card on Valentine's day, and although it was the most simple and, well, least romantic, it still caused your stomach to do flips.

'Gym, after school today.'

── ⟢

Being on school grounds after hours was always slightly uneasy. The hallways were silent, your own footsteps echoing along the empty expanse of the building. You stood in front of the doors to the gym, heart racing as you wiped your palms on your jeans and shook the shake out of your hands. With a deep breath, you steeled yourself, and pushed the doors open.

The lights were off, the only source of light in the open room was coming from multiple candles scattered around the floor. In the middle of them was a picnic blanket with a hamper sat neatly on it, a couple of plastic cups tucked beside it. Both Vi and Caitlyn were sat on the bleachers behind, chatting away to each other before the sound of the door closing behind you caught their attention.

"Oh... uh, hi guys" you drawled, voice laced with confusion as you quickly checked over your shoulder before taking a few tentative steps towards them. "Sorry... I didn't mean to interrupt."

Caitlyn stood up, her varsity jacket hanging off her shoulders as she hopped off the bleachers to approach you. "You're not interrupting, don't worry. You're right on time, actually."

That increased your confusion tenfold, and it must have shown perfectly on your face as you watched Caitlyn busy herself with pouring drinks, because Vi's soft laughter was suddenly reverberating through the empty hall.

"Y'know, for somebody with your grades, you aren't all that smart sometimes" she teased, coming up to rest a hand on your shoulder as Caitlyn passes you both a cup of soda.

"Wha- but I don't-"

Your fingers wrap tightly around the plastic cup in your hand as the realisation hits you, and your eyes bounce between the two girls. Vi has a cocky smirk on her face as she sees the gears in your head turning, whereas Caitlyn looks a little nervous as she sips her drink, arms crossed over her chest.

"You sent those cards?"

"We did" Vi affirms, her hand squeezing your shoulder lightly. "Cait said the puns were too cheesy, but I think you liked them anyway, hm?"

You watched as Caitlyn rolled her eyes, even though a hint of a smile was ghosting on her lips. "We had been thinking of how to approach the subject with you for a while, and well, this seemed like the perfect opportunity."

You nodded, eyes flitting down to the picnic blanket on the floor. "And... you did all this.. for me?" you asked quietly, your voice hesitant and still coated with disbelief. Caitlyn took your free hand in hers and gently guided you to the blanket, sitting you down on top of one of the pillows as she sat in front of you, Vi doing the same to your side.

"Of course we did. You're special, Y/n. We care about you a lot, and-" she cuts herself off, playing with your fingers that she's still holding in her hand. "We were hoping you'd feel the same."

Vi clears her throat and shuffled a little closer, lifting a finger to your chin so she can turn your head to look at her. "What Cait is trying to say, is that we like you as more than a friend. This is our way of showing you that, and asking if you want to be something more."

Your heart stopped in your chest, and a warmth had spread across your face as you let everything sink in. It was like being doused in ice-water, the realisation that you did, in fact, feel the same way about them. Your lack of a love life wasn't because you were busy, or because nobody interested you. It's because they had already filled that hole in you, you just hadn't thought about it long enough to see it.

"Wow, I- honestly had no idea" you breathed out, your words coated in an airy laugh. "I mean, looking back at it, of course it seems obvious this is where it headed."

The three of you shared a laugh at that, and you lifted your free hand away from Caitlyn's to rub the back of your neck sheepishly.

"I don't want it to change anything though, not really. I mean, yeah, obviously things will change-" You blush at the thought of kissing them. "-but it won't get like.. weird or anything right?"

The two girls shared a look and set down their drinks, Vi gently taking yours out of your hand too, shuffling closer to you so they were sat on either side.

"Nah, not weird at all" Vi murmured, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear.

"We won't do anything you don't want to, love. We'll take it at the pace you want" Caitlyn affirms, her voice soft yet strong.

They both lean forward and press a soft kiss to your cheeks, and you let your eyes flutter closed as the feeling of being sandwiched between them. For the first time in a long time, you had never felt as at peace.

"Okay then" you whisper into the space in front of you. "I feel the same way, so.. I think we should give it a shot."

"Yeah, sweetheart? Wanna be our girlfriend?" Vi questions in that teasing tone that you love to hate, her lips grazing against your cheek as she speaks. You just nod in response, both girls crushing you in a bone tight hug as relief washes over them.

"Now then" Caitlyn starts after a moment of the three of you basking in each other. She pulls away only to flip the lid of the basket, pulling out various different snack items. "I prepared this specially, and we have a valentine's picnic to dig into."

[bytemee]

WE CAN'T BE FRIENDS (WAIT FOR YOUR LOVE) — YU JIMIN.

"just wanna let this story die, and i'll be alright."

synopsis. what was once love now feels like a wreck, and nothing will ever be the same between them.

pairing. mean!sorority!karina x loser!gp!reader

warning(s). angst, cheating (not really bc they're not dating), mentions of drinking, karina is mean :(, just sad no happy ending

words. 1.3k

authors note. hi guys happy valentines day masterlist soon ok

part one. part two. part three. headcannons. request. navigation. main masterlist.

family emergencies don't wait for anyone.

you barely have time to throw things into a suitcase before you're running out the door, heart pounding with worry and adrenaline. the flight feels like it drags on forever, leaving you with too much time to imagine the worst possible outcomes.

every missed call and text from karina stings, but you can't bring yourself to respond. you're already juggling too much.

karina doesn't hear from you for three days.

she finds out you're gone when she shows up at your dorm unannounced, expecting you to be there like always—because you're always there. like the obedient little puppy she trained you to be. but the room is empty, the bed half-made, and your phone is going straight to voicemail every time she calls.

at first, she thinks you're just ignoring her. a part of her almost admires the audacity. but then she checks your drawers and sees the clothes missing, the toothbrush gone, the little signs that you didn't just leave for the night—you left. and you didn't tell her.

it hits her like a punch to the gut, knocking the breath right out of her.

then rage coils in her stomach like a snake, tightening with every unanswered text.

where the fuck are you?

don't make me find you.

you think you can just disappear on me?

by the time the third day rolls around, she's furious. humiliated.

people keep asking where you are, and she doesn't have an answer. you made her look stupid. weak. you left without a word and expected her to just sit and wait? to not do anything?

like hell. fuck you.

so she goes out. parties harder than she has in months. lets her sorority sisters pour her drink after drink until the room spins and everything feels numb, because you made her feel something, and she doesn't want to anymore. she doesn't want to feel anything ever again.

then there's a girl.

not you, but someone close enough in the dark. someone who doesn't hesitate to put her hands where they don't belong, someone who doesn't make her wait, doesn't make her question if she's wanted. karina lets it happen. lets the girl kiss her, lets hands wander, lets herself pretend—just for a second—that you don't exist. that this is all there is. that she's still in control.

when you come back two weeks later, she's ice-cold.

at first, you think she's mad that you left without telling her properly, that she's just giving you a hard time. but when she won't even look at you, when she brushes past you in the hallway like you're nothing, the dread settles in your stomach like a stone.

then the videos start spreading around campus. one of her with a girl. her hands on the other girl's skin. her tongue in the other girl's mouth. the two of them drunk, laughing, kissing.

you can't stop watching them.

the videos aren't anything explicit, but they're damning.

you can't believe she would do this to you, after everything you've done for her, everything you've given her.

it hurts.

you want to scream at her. you want to ask her why—why she did it, why she pushed you away, why she made you feel like you were nothing. you want to know if she felt anything, if she even cared about you at all. but you don't. instead, you let the anger simmer beneath your skin, burning through your veins like wildfire.

you're done. you're so fucking done.

the next time you're face to face is completely coincidental. she's on her way back to her room from a party, drunk off her ass and barely able to walk in a straight line. you went to her sorority house to get some things of yours from her room, as winter promised you karina wouldn't be there.

but of course, she is.

karina doesn't notice you at first, too busy trying to steady herself against the wall. her makeup is smudged, her hair a mess, and her steps uncoordinated as she tries to focus on getting back to her room. but then she stumbles, catching her balance just in time to look up—and when her eyes meet yours, everything in the air freezes.

for a moment, neither of you move. you can smell the alcohol on her breath and see the haze of drunkenness in her eyes. she looks like shit. then, as if snapping out of a trance, you take a step forward—only for her to flinch back, her body pressing against the wall.

her reaction stops you dead in your tracks.

"stay away from me."

you stop in your tracks, throat tightening. "i just want my stuff. that's it. then i'm gone."

her eyes are glassy. she looks like she might cry. "i don't have them."

your hands clenched into fists. "yes, you do. my jacket and a book. you have them."

she shakes her head. "i threw them out."

"why would you do that?"

she exhales shakily, eyes darting away. "because you left." her voice is barely a whisper, her words slurred and uneven. "because you didn't even tell me. you just disappeared."

you scoff, shaking your head. "are you serious? i had an emergency, karina. my family needed me."

her jaw tightens, something unreadable flashing through her expression. "and i didn't?"

you blink. "that's not fair."

karina lets out a hollow laugh, bitter and sharp. "neither is finding out you were gone by walking into your empty fucking room."

you don't know what to say to that. because she's right. you should've told her. you should've sent something, anything. but you didn't, and now you're stuck, the two of you, standing in the middle of the hallway with no idea where to go from here. but that doesn't change what she did.

your voice is quieter when you finally speak. "you didn't have to—" you gesture vaguely, unable to say it. "—do what you did."

her gaze drops, shoulders tensing. her voice is low. "i don't know what you're talking about."

you let out a frustrated sigh, stepping closer. "you know exactly what i'm talking about. those fucking videos. everyone saw them."

she doesn't move, her breath hitching in her throat. "i didn't do anything."

your hands curl into fists, anger rising in your chest. "don't lie to me, karina. i know it was you. why would you do that? were you that desperate to...i don't know? try and get back at me?"

karina's eyes are glassy, but whatever vulnerability was there a moment ago hardens into steel. she straightens up against the wall, brushing at her smudged makeup. when she finally speaks, her voice is cold.

"you really think you were more than just my little pup?"

the words hit like a punch to the gut, taking your breath away. karina stares you down, chin tilted up defiantly, daring you to argue, to fight back. but you can't. because no matter how angry, how betrayed, how humiliated you are, you still care about her.

"you were convenient, that's all. always there when i needed you. following me around like a pathetic stray, waiting for scraps of affection. and you lapped it up, didn't you?"

"karina, stop," you whisper.

she doesn't stop. she steps closer, her words venomous. "i needed someone to depend on, and you were just there. do you think i would've chosen you otherwise?"

your throat tightens. every syllable feels like another dagger to the chest.

"when you left, i realized how easy it was to replace you. how easy it would be for me to find someone else. and i did." she smiles, sharp and cruel. "do you want to know her name? or do you prefer not knowing?"

tears well up in your eyes despite everything, hot and burning. you blink rapidly, but you can't stop them from falling. 

"i gave you everything," you say, your voice barely holding steady. "i was there for you every second you needed me."

"and that's all you were good for," she snaps. "you should've known your place. a good little pup doesn't run off without permission." 

then, she pushes past you, her shoulder bumping yours as she stumbles toward her room. "go home, y/n," she mutters, voice breaking just slightly. "there's nothing left for you here."

and just like that, she's gone.

you're left standing alone in the hallway, heart aching, tears streaming down your cheeks.

taglist - @brocoliisscared @spidrgamer @kimminjiissosjdirbidnsjje

[disease-danger-darkness-silence]

I, being genderqueer, have no real attachment or dysphoria to my genitalia. I do want a breast reduction, for a lot of reasons! A DD chest sucks. But my pussy? Not worried about it that much.

(Now, my uterus needs to go. It gives me dysphoria like no one's business. I hate it. My dream is to donate the dammed thing to a trans woman who wants to bear children, since we've successfully implanted a donor uterus that was then used to bear a child in a cis woman, but no doctor wants to do that these days. 🙄🙄🙄)

But I have considered a phalloplasty. One, because they're the easier genitalia. I remember, when I was about five and learned the difference between penises and vaginas, getting SO ANGRY because I got the more "difficult" junk. Not because I specifically wanted a penis, but because a vagina takes more care, you can't pee standing up without a lot of help, and of course, the bleeding.

Two, because it just feels... Safer, these days.

Three, sex would be more fun for my partner.

But I simply cannot deal with the skin grafts. I can't. I can't deal with bits of my skin coming off and having to heal. I already don't heal super well anymore, so this is a nightmare.

Just putting the call out: if anyone hears of scientists doing epithelial 3D skin printing, skin cell growth, or anything like that for skin grafts, please send the articles my way! I'm interested in the pure biological science of it all, of course, but I'm also interested in how that will be used for gender-affirming care.

reading progressive sex ed caricatures with accurate and detailed and realistic diagrams of sexual organs + shows their variation, but all i can think about is how there is no discussion of what srs is besides the fact that it exists

[earlysunshines]

strawberry-flavored kisses

danielle marsh x fem!reader ; fluff

synopsis: it's valentines day so you and your amazing beautiful awesome lovely girlfriend bake cookies for your friends and loved ones (while also sharing sweet kisses in between)

warnings: noneeee pure fluff lolz ; established relationship ; they're so in love it PAINS me; anything else not mentioned ; not proofread

a/n: happy valentines day!! (same y/n and dani from sunshine girl but also you don't have to read it first LOL it doesn't rly matter k bye enjoy!)

working on valentines day–especially as a barista—is like willingly walking through the gates of hell. the sheer number of couples waltzing in with their fingers intertwined, muttering sweet nothings while ordering the cherry blossom latte special is enough to send any single person in a spiral. 

unfortunately for your coworker soobin, today that barista is him.

he’s been stuck taking orders during the afternoon rush, forcing a polite smile each time a customer leans over to press kisses to their partners temple, hand, cheek, or even lips (which earns the most noticeable reaction from the guy). it happens more times than you can count on both hands, and each occurrence earns a subtle, annoyed scrunch of his nose.

you’re more than grateful that you work with your girlfriend, danielle, because if you didn’t—you’d probably be on the floor dying from heartache one hour in.

you and danielle share a knowing glance each time since you’re stuck together making all the drinks and serving the pastries in the display, both of you stifling laughter with each look. danielle is much sweeter than you are, so she tries to be subtle about her amusement. you, on the other hand, are not as merciful, watching soobin’s growing misery with shameless amusement.

soobin slides down the last receipt after the line of four couples is tended to, giving you a glare. “you guys are evil and i hate you both so much.” he groans before reaching over to grab a piece of strawberry tiramisu for another order. 

“it’s not my fault love is in the air~” you tease as you tamp down grinded beans, nudging danielle with your elbow.

danielle grins, lingering against you. “yeah, soobin. maybe you should try being happy for them! look at how cute they all are.”

soobin gives you both a deadpan look before calling out an order, and once he’s done, he says through gritted teeth, “easy for you lovebirds to say.”

just as you’re about to respond, another couple walks through the door, giggling as they gasp in awe at the pastries laid out. soobin sighs, putting on his customer service demeanor, and bracing himself while you and danielle bite down your laughter.

“i feel bad for him, y/n.” danielle mutters as she pours steamed milk into a cup, making a beautiful heart design. “he looks like he’s in actual, physical pain…” she adds, looking over to see the couple in front of the register sharing a quick peck before scanning the menu again.

“i think he’s going to pass out, or air out the place.” you murmur, watching as his fingers claw at the counter.

danielle looks around, then leans closer, her breath warm against your ear. you shiver at the proximity, feeling her lips brush against you just barely as she says, “maybe we should order the cherry blossom latte and hold hands while doing it. you know, just to mess with him.”

“i like the way you think.” you chuckle, smiling down at the shot you’ve just pulled. “maybe a kiss too?”

“you just want an excuse to kiss me, don’t you?”

“i don’t need one. after we clock out i’m gonna kiss you soooo much. just wanted to let you know.” you shrug, moving back to the other side of the espresso machine to weigh out coffee grinds. “my valentine’s day special.”

danielle rolls her eyes but smiles at you, biting her lip at your bold remark.

—

all three of you clock out at the same time when the other three evening shift workers clock in. you all head to the back, and soobin dramatically leans against the wall with his heart shaped doughnut that he stole from the display. you and danielle giggle, earning a defeated look from your poor coworker. 

danielle kisses your cheek in front of soobin before you two head out, earning another groan from him. even if he’s in lots of emotional pain, the tips from the dreadful shift were wonderful. you and danielle know how lovely the tips are on holidays, so you two made a plan prior to bake cookies for your friends, which is why you’re immediately on the way to the grocery store to spend your combined cash tips.

(you make sure to let soobin know that you’ll save some of your treats for him, telling him he can come by your place anytime he wants. it’s only fair considering he was on register duty most of the shift.

plus, it’s valentine’s day! it’s only fair to spread the love you two have for your loved ones.)

the grocery store is also filled with a handful of last-minute valentine’s day shoppers, but you and danielle still manage to fill your basket without much waiting or trouble. she sings along to can’t take my eyes off of you—which is playing louder than usual on the speakers—with a packet of chocolates in her hand as the microphone. you laugh, taking a video of her when she skips down the aisle singing happily. 

by the time you get back to your house, the kitchen smells like butter and sugar, and the speakers are playing your carefully curated valentines playlist. can i call you rose? starts playing and you suddenly stop stirring the strawberries you’ve been boiling on low, gasping dramatically, “this is my song.”

danielle giggles at your antics and squeaks when you pull her away from the counter suddenly to serenade her lovingly.

“can i call you rose?” you sing, before twirling her around. “cause you’re sweeeeet like a flowerrrr in bloooom~”

“you’re so cheesy,” danielle giggles, twirling you around right after she says it. “you’re going to burn the jam!”

“soobin’s disease spread to you,” you joke.

“and what disease would that be?”

“being single.”

she rolls her eyes at your response before leaning in to kiss your nose. “i’m immune to that because of you, silly.”

not so long after you sway side to side playfully, you return to your baking duties. she mixes the wet ingredients while you finish up the jam, and you steal loving glances at her when she’s too focused to notice.

both of you are side by side again once you bring out the finished jam, placing it on the counter she’s now rolling the dough on. she hands you golfball-sized piece for you to shape, laughing at how carefully you work with it.

“you’re putting extra effort into these, huh?” danielle teases, watching as you carefully press your thumb into the dough.

“i have to. hyein will insult me like crazy if they’re ugly.”

she laughs, bumping her shoulder against yours. “true. minji and hanni will definitely do the same if they turn out deformed…”

you snicker, then continue to perfect your first cookie out of many. 

you and danielle work silently as the music in the background hums. you glance at danielle, who’s sleeves are rolled up as she pours jam into the small, heart-shaped dent in the cookie. there’s flour on he cheek, and when you reach over to brush it off, she scrunches her nose at the ticklish feeling.

“you have some on your sweater too.” she teases, pointing at the flour on your clothes.

“yeah, yeah.” 

the two of you fall into an easy rhythm, shaping the cookies together and pressing small hearts into the center for jam. you’re focused on the start of your seventh cookie when you catch danielle sneaking a spoonful of jam in the corner of your eye.

“that’s for the cookies!” you scold, nudging her playfully. 

“i had to make sure it’s good!” she argues, licking jam off the corner of her lip. 

“oh, so you don’t trust me? wow…” you huff.

“i just needed to make sure!”

“there’s only a limited amount of—” before you can finish your sentence, danielle suddenly leans in, using her fingers to tilt your chin down before kissing you softly. you get a taste of the jam, it’s almost as sweet as the person kissing you—literally. you hum, feeling your shoulders relax as her fingers sneak to the back of your neck, sending a shiver down your spine.

she pulls away and grins like she’s just gotten away with something. “there,” she murmurs against your lips. “good, right?”

your brain short-circuits for a moment before you blink at her, your face heating up. “you’re so—”

“amazing? yes, i know. now stop distracting me! we have to finish these cookies…”

“you’re the one who—” she cuts you off again, kissing you a little longer than last time before parting fully. you giggle at her antics, nudging her. “do you like the jam or did you just want to kiss me?” you question with feigned annoyance.

she hums thoughtfully, tapping her chin with her finger like a cartoon character. “all of the above.” she says while flashing a cheeky smile.

and just like that she gets back to work, leaving you flustered and giddy. you angle yourself weirdly to press a kiss to her cheek, earning a giggle before she tells you to finish up your cookie.

—

once you finish making a little over three dozen cookies, you and danielle are beat.

you both clean up a bit before washing your hands, set a timer, and then danielle flops onto the couch. you follow after, sitting next to her and leaning your head against hers. she shifts and puts her arm around you, pinching your cheek with two fingers.

“tired?” she asks.

“yes…” you respond. “but not too tired to kiss you…?” you add, turning your head to stare at her lips.

she leans closer, pecking your lips quickly before responding, “wow, cupid must’ve hit bullseye on your heart.”

“now look who’s so cheesy.” you giggle, nose brushing against hers. 

“yes because i love you, my valentine.”

“i love you too.” you say before meeting her lips in a tender, loving kiss.

your playful exchange of kisses lasts a few minutes, and you plan to continue until the timer rings. what you didn’t take into consideration was the fact that your younger cousin—hyein—would be back home so soon. 

and so, when you hear a dramatic groan along with the door closing, you two pull apart with flushed faces.

“oh my god, gross…” you hear from the entrance, turning around to see hyein with a half-disgusted and half-amused look on her face. “just because it’s valentines day doesn’t mean you get to be all lovey-dovey on my couch.”

“but we made cookies to share…” you respond defeatedly.

“were you guys being lovey-dovey while making them?” you open your mouth to reply, but pause, and hyein takes that opportunity to groan even louder. “gross…”

“oh shut up, i know you’re gonna devour like five of them in the same minute.”

“hey!” 

danielle giggles at the banter, and then all of you turn your heads toward the oven when the timer rings. 

“i promise the cookies are good. please take some as an apology?” danielle suggests, “there’s strawberry jam on them, and it’s really good.” she adds as she pinches your forearm, reminding you of the strawberry-flavored kisses from earlier. you blush.

hyein laughs, then happily sets her bag down before rushing over to the oven. you give danielle a look and she gives you the same one back before kissing you quick enough so hyein doesn’t notice.

“happy valentines day. i love you.” she says, tugging at your hand. “let’s go eat these cookies… we might need to make another batch if they’re too good.”

you laugh, following her to the kitchen island. “yeah, i was thinking that too. maybe being considerate wasn’t the best idea.” you joke, then kiss her forehead before muttering, “happy valentines day. i love you more.”

you hear hyein groan once more.

“i’ve seen enough couples at school today and i do not need to see another show of pda in the comfort of my own home.” hyein says loudly. “can you take the cookies out now?”

you scoff playfully before finding the oven mitts, smacking hyein on the head with them before you open up the oven to take out the first tray. the scent of the cookies fill the house with a sweet, irresistible aroma.

(but not as sweet or irresistible as your lovely valentine.

nothing can beat her at that.)

[chrissturnsfav]

omg i just thought about something

can you write about how rapper!chris and star are arguing over something reallyy stupid and none of them wanna apologize first, but chris can't sleep properly if they're angry at each other so he tries to talk with her before going to bed😔😔

they’re just so sweet and i need some angst 💔

⋆.˚✮ rapper!chris and singer!reader refuse to go to bed angry

you don’t even remember how it started. something about work. or maybe it was the aux cord in the car. it was dumb as fuck, you know that, but now you're both too deep into this silent battle of egos to back down.

chris is across the room, scrolling on his phone, sprawled out in a manspread on the couch. you're on his bed, curled up in his hoodie that still smells like his cologne, arms crossed, jaw tight.

the sleepover routine hasn’t changed—you're here, he's here—but the vibe is off. and you hate when the vibe is off.

he exhales loud as hell, like he wants you to notice. you pretend you don't, but then he does it again. dramatic dick.

"yo, you really gonna sleep mad at me?" his voice is all low and smooth, but there’s that little whiny edge to it, kinda like he's suffering. good.

you don't answer. you hear him toss his phone onto the nightstand with way too much force.

"nah, fuck that," he mutters, then suddenly, the king size bed dips as he flops down next to you, shaking the whole mattress. you don't move.

he sighs and shifts. then a finger pokes your arm. once. twice. three times.

"quit actin' like you sleepin'. i know you ain't asleep, ma."

you swat his hand away, but he just laughs. you can hear the smirk on his lips.

"so we really beefin' over some dumb shit?"

"you started it," you mumble quietly, your heart speeding up. you hate arguing with chris, yet you're so stubborn.

"you kept it goin'," he shoots back, rolling onto his side to face you. "and now we both look dumb as shit."

you hate when he makes sense.

he shifts closer, nudging your shoulder with his. "look, i know you’re probably sittin' here thinkin' all hard, stressin' yourself out over some shit that don’t even matter."

you glare at him. "i am not."

"you are," he says, huffing with a roll of his eyes. "bet you already planned three different ways to apologize, blamed yourself for the whole argument, and decided i secretly wanna leave you. don’t lie."

you look away, huffing, realizing he's right once again.

he groans and throws an arm over his face. "baby, i love you, but you gotta stop doin' that shit."

his words hit something soft in your chest. you swallow.

"i just don't like to be wrong," you admit, voice small, chewing the inside of your cheek.

he peeks at you from under his arm, grinning. "well, if we're bein' real, we're both wrong. so now we can stop actin' stupid and go to sleep."

you hesitate, shooting him a bratty glare, making him scoff out a chuckle.

"c'mooon," he coaxes, voice dipping into that playful, teasing tone that always makes you crack. "jus' say you sorry first. be the bigger person. show me how mature you are."

"you say it first," you whine, frowning like a small child.

"nah, ion do first," he says, flipping onto his back with a smirk. "i'm a rapper. got a reputation to uphold."

you roll your eyes, but he catches the way the corner of your mouth twitches. he sees his opening and goes straight for it.

next thing you know, he's rolling over, wrapping himself around you like a human blanket, his breath warm against your neck. "damn, you smell good," he mumbles. "all mad and cute and shit."

you groan. "chris—"

"shhh," he hums, tucking his face against your shoulder. "s'okay, i accept your apology."

"i didn't even apologize," you whine, frowning up at him as you squirm.

"you were thinkin' it, though. i could feel it. don't pull that stubborn shit, now."

you smack his arm, and he just laughs, holding you tighter. his warmth melts away the last bit of your stubbornness. fine. you did miss him.

"…whatever," you mumble, snuggling into his hoodie.

he presses a sloppy kiss to your cheek. "love you, kid," he mumbles against your skin.

you huff, giving in. "love you."

thank you for reading!! <3

tags 🏷️: @sturnobsessedwh0re , @idrk2292 , @mattsbrat , @ribbonlovergirl , @matthewsroses , @mattsdemi , @emely9274 , @frankoceanfanpage , @ifwdominicfike , @marrykisskilled , @strnilolover , @cayleeuhithinknott , @forgottxen , @sophand4n4 , @sturnsrecord , @purpledragon222 , @faiyaz555 , @jocelyncsblog , @freakiolos , @slut4chris888 , @chriss-slutt , @ilovedanielcaesar , @annsx03 , @snoopychris , @chrissweetheart , @slutformatt17 , @mattsturnii , @dominicfikeenthusiast , @mattsbratt333 , @ivysturnss , @tessasturns , @coquettechris , @courta13 , @sturniolo101 , @malsmind

@chrissturnsfav ™

[pretty-little-mind33]

James Potter x best friend fem!reader

Summary: You find your best friend's love letters, and they're addressed to you.

Genre: Fluff 💋

Warnings: none

JAMES POTTER MASTERLIST

VALENTINE'S DAY SPECIAL

You didn't meant to snoop into James' trunk.

In your defense, you were only in there looking for his Quidditch books. The ones he'd asked you to grab for him and Sirius to prepare plays for the upcoming quidditch season.

The paper's were hidden in one large envelope in the front drawer of his trunk. None of them were ready to mail, all of them scattered and unorganized as they peaked from inside the envelope you moved only to see if the books were behind it. They were in a completely different compartment.

You shouldn't look. You know that, but curiosity had won. You sit on your heels, your hair wet from having been swimming in the lake near the Potter's home. Water droplets drop onto your hands and you shake out the papers, accidentally reading the name scribbled on the top.

Y/n.

The letters are addressed to you.

Just as you open the first one, Lily comes rushing up. Her hair is wrapped in a towel and she leans against the doorway. "What's taking so long?" she asks you, watching curiously as you jump and stuff the letters into James's drawer again. You stand up.

"Nothing," you squeak and hand Lily the Quidditch book James had asked for.

Lily hums and sends you a suspicious look but she takes the book anyway and skips down the stairs, hollering to James and Sirius that you'd found it. You stay back, slumping down onto James's bed as you pull out the, now crumpled, letter you had hastily snuck into the pocket of your jean-shorts.

Holding your breath, you open it;

Dear Y/n,

It's been 4 long years now. I still haven't told you how I feel. It's okay. I'm scared that if I do everything will change between us. That we'll stop being friends and if that happens, I don't know what I'd do. So it's better that you don't know.

Yours truly,

Jamesie

"Y/n?" James's voice cuts into the room and you drop the letter, standing up from his bed with a jump. Your eyes are wide and your mouth is dry. James is standing by the doorway, his glasses resting lopsided on his nose, his hair a mess from playing in the yard with Sirius, and your gaze drifted to where a sliver of his stomach is exposed as he rubs his neck awkwardly.

"What are you doing?"

James sees the letter and his skin turns pale. He panicks. "You didn't read that, did you?"

You could never lie to James, he's your best friend.

"I did," you say as calmly as your beating heart could manage as you pick up the letter. You walk over to him and hand him the paper he knows all too well. James looks like he isn't breathing.

"What do you mean by this?" you ask him seriously, looking into his dark eyes.

"Nothing," James says and strains one of his famous lopsided grins. You don't look amused. You've known James since he was three. You know every one of his words and you can clearly see he's lying.

"Tell me honestly," you deadpan and cross your arms over your chest. "What haven't you told me? We promised we wouldn't have any secrets from each other."

James looks even more awkward as he pushes his glasses further up his nose. "Yeah, w-well, this is different."

"Different how?"

"Different because it's personal!" James is becoming more flustered and annoyed.

You narrow your eyes. "James."

"Y/n."

"James!"

"Okay fine!" James throws up his hands and presses his palm into his eyes. "Ithinki'minlovewithyou!"

The world around you goes silent and your heart is pounding. What did he just say?

"What?"

James brings his hands up and pulls on his dark hair, letting out an exasperated huff, "Seriously?! I said I'm in love with you! You don't have to pretend you didn't hear because you don't like me—" he goes into this rambling state, his cheeks crimson. He's too busy being self-loathing to register that you're approaching him. Cracking a smile, you take his cheeks in your hands. James's words die in his throat and his gaze locks onto yours. "W-what–"

You muffle his voice with your lips, kissing him passionately. Your hands dig into his cheeks as you stand on tiptoes to kiss better. James takes only a second to process what's happening because his hands find your hips and he kisses you back.

Fireworks explode in your stomach as the kiss continues and your damp hair skims James's cheeks. He brings his hand up and using his thumb, pushes some hair behind your ear as he leans in and kisses you deeper. You're practically devouring each other, the love letter forgotten on the ground now.

James pulls away and leans his forehead on yours. "Does this mean you're in love with me as well?" he jokes, tasting your strawberry lip balm on his lips. You laugh and cover his mouth with your hand as you look a little embarrassed. You make eye contact with him and those fireworks burst again.

"Shut up, Jamesie" you whisper, knowing he already knows the answer.

You are hopelessly in love with him.

You always have been.

[clanwarrior-tumbly]

When I saw ur post that you'll do Cookie run kingdom, I IMMEDIATELY jumped to this!

Beast Cookies (The 3 Playable ones rn) vs The Ancients fighting for their attention to dear Cookie!Reader in their cookie kingdom. But Cookie!Reader is very oblivious to their affection, and they just think they're getting along swell, buts its VERY obvious to the other cookies about the attention.

Yes yes YES! I've only finished SMC's arc but I read the others on the wiki page. So hopefully I did them all justice

.............

Shadow Milk/Pure Vanilla

In the Cookie Kingdom, Shadow Milk hasn't entirely changed his ways, although he promised to stop turning cookies into puppets/tarots/chess pieces (which surprisingly wasn't a lie).

He simply settled for creating mischief and making himself quite the nuisance to Pure Vanilla Cookie (since he's still a bit petty about the whole soul jam situation and all).

However, he's been going the extra mile lately because of you, a Cookie who was one of Pure Vanilla's closest friends.

Unlike others who had the usual reactions to his pranks (horror, anger, embarrassment, or sometimes all three at once), he notices that you don't give him the reactions he hopes for.

Instead you just laugh and say "you almost got me there, maybe next time!"

He thought you were mocking him, but when you insist you're being honest, he backs off.

Since you're so interesting to him, he keeps watch over you...and pouts every time he sees you with Pure Vanilla, becoming determined to have your attention all to himself.

Once, he snuck one of his cream sheep (in literal wolf's clothing) into the cotton candy ranch pen while you were assisting the healer in harvesting wool.

His plan was to distract him so he'd be able to "kidnap" you and leave his counterpart to deal with the chaos of a dangerous creature threatening the flock (even changing the "no wolves" sign to "wolves allowed").

Instead, you immediately saw through the facade and thought the wolf was lost, gently sweet-talking it and guiding it out of the pen without causing any commotion.

Shadow Milk appears and whines about you "spoiling" his fun, although he's confused when you ask him if you could keep the wolf.

"Really? Even though I......wait. No, of course not, dummy! Get your own pet." He's quick to snap his fingers, creating a portal that sucks the canine back into the other-realm.

But since that interaction...you believe he's starting to warm up to you, always wanting to hang out and show off.

He'd would make up little lies and truths about his encounters with Pure Vanilla, including what happened at his spire, putting on dramatic displays/shows to make himself out to be the "hero".

Of course, you know better than to believe most of what he says, but you still give him your time of day.

Pure Vanilla did once mention the small droplet of loneliness he sensed within Shadow Milk, so you figured he just needed a friend--something he vehemently denied when that offer was first extended, but eventually learned to accept once he got settled into Cookie Kingdom.

You think you've been making great progress in your friendship with the Beast, although lately a rumor's been circulating (one that he didn't create, and thus was unaware of), that he had a crush on you.

Why else would he want you all to himself? And try to drag you away from Pure Vanilla anytime he saw you both together? And make you more of the witness--instead of the victim--to his latest pranking scheme?

90% of the time he acts like he caught you "cheating" on him...and you're just like "but I'm not even dating anyone???"

Since Awakening, Pure Vanilla has grown to have a lot more patience with him, but he still thinks his antics are childish and would say "just tell them how you feel".

However, he knows Shadow Milk is not one to wear his heart on his sleeve, and would rather put on grand puppet shows and shapeshift as other cookies you've befriended than ever admit he likes you.

But he believes that one day, you'd be the one to crack through that exterior. Just as he did.

Mystic Flour/Dark Cacao

In her weary world of white, you were a cookie that brought just a smidgen of color back into her daily life.

Within the kingdom, she found cookies who remind her of those who used to flock to her Ivory Pagoda with selfish desires and obsessive wishes, taking and taking.

Seeing them dart around and act the fool makes her ponder over whether they should be enlightened or not...

Loving, befriending, working, creating...what was the point if none of that will matter in a hundred years? Do they ever stop to ask themselves if any of those deeds will be remembered? Why bother?

While her powers are severely diminished, leaving her unable to summon a flour storm, she still tries spreading her message to those willing to listen.

Most try to stay away, as her words are rather depressing, but you're actually curious about why she thinks that way.

You feel terrible after learning her story before and after she had her soul jam stripped away, although she assures you not to mourn--for she found comfort in apathy, and asks if you'll do the same.

But you respond that while it is inevitable that everyone crumbles and returns to flour no matter what, life is still worth experiencing, and wanting to help the kingdom grow is something you enjoy and want to keep doing.

"But kingdoms rise and fall. This one, too, shall follow. All these monuments will become mere piles of sugar dust. These waterways will soon dry up and-"

"That may be true, but who's to say we can't rebuild? This isn't your traditional kingdom with a single ruler." You point out. "We've got plenty of hands to help put up new statues and fill the rivers."

"...hm."

Dark Cacao was..less-than-pleased to see you chatting with her, considering she brought the Pale Ailment to his kingdom and nearly killed him trying to obtain his soul jam.

It's a grudge he hasn't fully let go of, and he made it known to you that he'll fight any of her attempts to "corrupt" your mind with her twisted ideals.

He'd try to keep you away from her--which is unusual for the typically reserved Ancient Hero (unless you were from the same kingdom, and in that case you'd understand Your Majesty's protectiveness).

Unfortunately for him, Mystic Flour finds your presence..intriguing. Even when your time is up, she'd certainly want to remember everything about you, so she wants to know more about you here in the present.

While she observes you handling tasks with grace, she'll notice Dark Cacao glaring at her from across the way, pondering why he kept looking at her like that.

Could he have been...jealous?

Yet another frugal emotion he would've been liberated from had he listened to her...

You think the two have been getting along a bit better, considering they could be in the same space without him brandishing his sword....but in reality, even other cookies can sense their tension, the air too thick to be cut with a butterknife.

Burning Spice/Golden Cheese

When you heard news of Burning Spice Cookie joining the kingdom, you were informed to stay FAR away from him, as he was one of the most violent Beasts the Witches have ever known.

Golden Cheese told you about her battle with him, bitterly recalling how he tore her own wings off and caused destruction simply out of boredom--so she's rightfully concerned for your safety.

Unfortunately for the queen of abundance, her counterpart's eyes have been on you the moment he noticed you both talking to one another.

But instead of allowing him to goad her into a rematch, you offer to show Burning Spice around the kingdom.

He welcomes the change, considering there's no singular ruler, although he expected this one to crumble like many before.

"Let's see how long it takes before I grow bored of this....place." He sneers, keeping his weapon at the ready-

Although he noticed a statue built in his likeness (alongside SMC and MFC) and paused.

This kingdom honored the Beasts despite all of their horrific crimes?

"I dunno when those showed up, but-"

"I like 'em. It's a nice surprise. Whoever sculpted this paid extra attention to my physique and might. I give them my thanks. Nice to see that someone here knows I'm the greatest." He snickers.

Yep A simple statue satisfied his ego enough to spare the kingdom from having to spend fortunes on property damages.

As you began spending more time with Burning Spice, you show him different (and better) outlets for his anger, providing him a home with training grounds in case he needed to let off steam.

Forget about trying to put this Beast of Destruction to work---he'd grind the sugar cube quarry to dust and burn down the lumbar production facility.

Golden Cheese--being greedy over not just ownership over her soul jam, but also for her friends--isn't too thrilled with Burning Spice "pretending" to be your best friend, knowing he could crumble you with one claw should you let your guard down.

She has Smoked Cheese Cookie spy on you from a distance to ensure you're safe....but you're oblivious to her concerns.

You had no idea the two were even have daily quarrels over which of them "deserved" your attention more.

If anything, you assumed they were still fighting over their soul jam.

[vero-lynn]

If y'all thought I was crazy before now I'll show you how insane I can get.

You guys see this guy? Yeah? Okay. Once again I'm here to share my headcanon that this is Masky who's driving the car at the moment. I've been thinking about it A LOT.

So, When Tim is talking to Jessica, that's him. That's him UNTIL he starts having a coughing fit unprovoked and pretty much safe from the operator.

After the coughing fit happens, and Tim seems to be feeling better, the camera glitches. It's not DURING the coughing, it's not BEFORE the coughing, it's AFTER the coughing.

Now, Jessica didn't glitch it, the operator didn't glitch it, it was acting JUST fine before, so, then, what did it? Well, this is where Tim switches up with Masky yet again. But I have more than this to make my theory a little better.

So, when we see "Tim" drive the car later on, he's clearly holding in his cough, he never did that before, he always coughs freely without an issue, so why hold it back now? Then there's the pills.

He doesn't take them. The camera is turned around and we don't hear him opening the bottle, we don't even hear the rattling of the pills. Nothing. The bottle is put away.

Masky also takes the pills, we know that, he has to - it's not like they're only for Tim, but I think it helps Tim to "keep" Masky away as well, at least a little bit.

And right now, what I think masky is doing, is, well, what he's always done ! Making Tim forget. Letting him leave all of it behind and move on, live a normal life like he always wanted to, and how he always tried helping him do. There's nothing left to drag him back, everyone who he considered dangerous is gone, Tim can finally move on.

But I have one last thing.

Yeah. Yeah.

Everything is fine.

But Vero!! What about it? It's a normal phrase! WRONG!!! This is a callback to totheark. And I'm so serious. Brian uses "everything is normal, everything is fine, I worry about nothing, because nothing's on my mind." ABOUT THREE TIMES. Once in marble hornets, and then twice in the comic. And it's always to comfort himself and keep himself calm.

If Brian uses it, why wouldn't Masky? To comfort himself, and to comfort US. As he always did with Tim and Brian.

Everything is fine. There's nothing to worry about.

Thank you for your attention.

[beatlblog]

#i'm crying this is so funny#we love terry (via @sour-milk-sea)

#harrisong: the sun is so beautiful. has anyone ever noticed this (via @tweeterwilbury)

#men are so strange and delusional.....#just tweet im sad that i wasn't able to suck john lennon's dick and log out#it's quicker (via @mylonghairedladyy)

#there's a reason that their post-beatles work is like... imagine for john and freaking... magneto and titanium man for paul... (via @skyriderwednesday)

#arnie pipe is a normal type with an average job but his prospects never will be great#(lyrics say arnie pupe but you cannot tell me that's true. it's pipe) (via @leapinarmadillo)

#hey Ringo just makes cute songs okay (via @milesaerach)

#idk how to admit this but i really like McCartney's solo work because its exactly like this all the time forever#except sometimes there's something so good it could be in the sounstrack of tarzan out of nowhere#and then we go back to insanity (via @dubiousdisco)

#George song: messing around on a sitar#Ringo song: bad (via @baking-bisexual-bitch)

#transition from happiness is a warm gun to martha my dear (via @guttermeat)

#lennon's song ends with a declaration of wanting to kill his wife#mccartney's song ends with terry the plumber killing his wife (via @lumeninfusco)

#george song: n/a (not allowed on the album) (via @thisisdefinitelyausername)

#weed vs coke (via @barryallenisbisexual)

#but that was pre-psychedelic Beatles (via @elglin)

#john if he wrote fixing a hole#paul if he wrote working class hero (via @the-bluebird-you-need)

#(they're both saying the same thing) (via @ensign-babey)

#george: i get one song per album#ringo: ringo (via @hebrideanmoon)

#I see them both as two little guys hitting pots and pans#but in different ways (via @tenitchyfingers)

#lol welcome to 1971 (via @cirumlocutoryconlanger)

#also the difference between alex kapranos and nick mccarthy#alex = john#nick = paul#more at ten. (via @dandy-lad)

#stop I saw this as I was literally listening to the beatles and texting my sister about how insane their range was#the range in question lmaooo (via @fortressofbooks)

#and both songs are about being gay#so yeah (via @aint-that-kind-of-blog-bruv)

#WHERE'S GEORGE (via @local-vamp)

#both could be a springsteen song (via @melody1971)

written while gazing t the photos of john + elvis on his dressing room wall

#almost accurate#add *pipe clanking sounds* (via @gojisaurus)

#i thought it said 'helovespipesshelovespipes' at first and i was like#wow so true...he would change up the pronounce like that. which could mean nothing (via @igixri)

#monkberry moon delight my BELOVED#his three songs are: 1) the Pipe Man. 2) i love my wife. 3) i miss my soulmate john (via @rubyrubyrubytuesday)

The way the lyrics talk to eachother somehow is so more funny to me (via @starfayy)

#and both songs would be mclennon coded (via @flowersintheram)

#why philosophize when you can narrate (via @alienoriana)

#but it's not homoerotic he swears (via @unchaineddaisychain)

#mccartney's song has a key signature change but lennon's song has a time signature change (via @britneyshakespeare)

#theylovepipedream#音楽 (via @radio-4-is-static)

#is this a fixing a hole reference or a pipes of peace reference#only real ones know pipes of peace (via @whoscruffylooking)

#ok but they’d be in the same song A Day in the Life style#and it’d slap!!!!! (via @tesho-travels)

hate hate hate it

#and theyre both the same song (via @onlylivingboything)

#average beatles on shuffle experience (via @veryhopefulromantic)

#im choosing to understand this (via @hell-nurse)

#I can hear this#he loves pipe she loves pipe#can it be one song tho#I think it’d fuck (via @bugsinnmybrain)

#McCartney said shut up and go to therapy Johnny (via @imoldbutimstillintothat)

#need one of those tumblr musicians to make audio for this post (via @mousefluff)

#the best Beatles text posts are the ones you can hear by reading them (via @thatdogjokes)

#the realest shit#my mom always says John & Paul needed each other for balance bc paul is too whimsical & John is too angsty lol (via @theinconstantmoon)

#pauls whimsey he loves to write songs that would work in a childrens tv show (via @lostcryptids)

#a day in the life verses (via @thefoolsprocession)

and that's why i hate it

#uh oh the pipe is leaking#terry is gonna be weak (via @masterboa)

fifth beatle song: its ok to leave a dog in a hot car (hot car) its ok to leave a dog in a hot car (ooh oooh oh) (via @trashfartofficial)

#this is not accurate at all#lennon lyrics aren't like that there is nothing beatlesque about it#his lyrics are cryptic in a completely different way that's more cartoonish and sarcastic#or if he is serious its not black sabbath shit like this its more just preachy and kinda annoying#mccartney on the other hand... yeah that's about right (via @possessesnightshift)

#and the source of the leak is an issue with the pipes that terry the plumber can fix and it all comes full circle#or something. idk i’m not a beatles fan (via @driftwooddestiel)

no this is accurate

#where would prog be without those “helovespipeshelovespipeshelovespipes” changes (via @despairdoodlesreal)

#PRECISO (via @affogonellamarmellata)#its the same song#they worked on it together (via @airlocksandaviaries)

john was just a huge edgelord but paul knew how to be whimsical and fun (via @herecomesthemod)

#get you a man who can piss off all his band mates with 'faggy bullshit' (quote a la Harrison) AND write Blackbird (via @transwolvie)

#ay no puedo (via @longlivetai)

#meanwhile ringo singing about ocean life (via @penthesileas)