#want to make ones for all the troll's handwriting at some point

[relaxxattack]

new alternian custom fonts

just got done making some custom fonts in new alternian! will probably do some more eventually but here's four if anyone is interested!

download fonts here

[thewertsearch]

It is a message from Vriska summoning you to do battle. It is written in Gamzee's rich jelly-smelling blood, but it is her handwriting for sure. Her quirk is present, leaving the matter unde88a8le.

At this point, if there's not some sort of perceptual distortion at play, I'd consider it an insult to Terezi. She's not supposed to be able to fall for shit like this.

But why the hell does she want you to bring this stupid puppet along? She's so weird.

There's a decent chance that Gamzee's in league with Scratch. He wasn't one of the trolls from Scratch's fables, but it would be very like him to tactically omit a description of his most important pawn.

Anyway, if Gamzee's following Scratch's plan, then it makes sense that Lil Cal, Scratch's 'father', might feature in some way. I don't know how he'll feature, but I'm sure it'll be fittingly horrifying.

I suppose I'll have to get used to writing with this hand instead. I now do so in captivity, while I 8ring my awe to 8ear on the immensity of the Su8juggl8or's high jinx.

I can't tell to what degree the Subjugglator's 'high jinx' (lol) is supposed to be a joke. If Gamzee's caste can actually do magic, then maybe that's how Gamzee was hiding his presence from Terezi.

I took their gesture as plain avowal of my prosecution's futility. With a lone neophyte assigned to the task, how could I view it otherwise? […] 8ut I discovered too l8 that Redglare was their wild card all along. How is one allowed to 8e raised 8y a dragon in this era? Let alone one of such middling 8lood, the sickly hue of a gutless civil servant. […] 8y what fluke was this woman granted such a weapon, permitting her to luxuri8 in these delusions of righteousness?

It seems that in Mindfang's time, your lusus was manually assigned by the government - unlike modern trolls, who are apparently chosen by the lusus themselves. This was probably yet another way to enforce the blood hierarchy, as Mindfang's chief complaint is that Redglare's lusus was 'above her station'.

Wait, there's no link to the next page. Is this some sort of puzzle, or...

Wait, so the link is inside a simulated version of the website? Weird.

[misscinnamonroll16]

Brozone headcanons

Clay briefly took ballet. He took it to help with his balance bc he was a clumsy kid

Clay let Floyd play connect the dots with the freckles on his face when they were kids

Branch definitely thought some of the meals he missed were made by their grandma when they had actually been made by John Dory

Floyd and Bruce are often physically affectionate. Ones to often hug and just be touching the people they care about

The bros often sleep in a troll pile. They just want to be close with one another and know that the others are there

For a while, John is the only one who can read Branch's handwriting. He's used to reading the chicken scratch that was all of their handwriting at one point in time.

JD's handwriting is pretty in a way that it's hard to read.

Bruce abbreviates things all the time when he has to write it down. It doesn't make sense to the other brothers but as long as it makes sense to him

John never "officially" comes out as bi, it's just kind of found out and not made a big deal about, unless they're giving him shit for it

Clay is super skinny from the diet that all the putt-putt trolls had. His romper hides the fact that you can see each of his ribs and hip bones and vertebrae. Upon seeing that for the first time, John Dory is worried, he thinks he needs to feed Clay more. Bruce assures him that Clay is fine, just needs to work his way to larger portions

Floyd and John both have so many ex's

Floyd likes to draw his brothers while they're not paying attention. It's the way their muscles move more naturally and the different body types

Floyd has more piercings than just the one earring

John Dory loves nature. He could sit in the middle of the woods for hours just enjoying the sounds, the feeling of the sun on his skin and the wind. When it rains, he wants to just go stand in the rain

That being said, JD has tracked mud through the bunker and it pisses Branch off

JD chews on pens and pencils, never let him borrow yours unless you're ok with it getting chewed on.

If John could, he would carry Rhonda. She's his baby and he loves her.

John Dory has pretended to be eaten by Rhonda just to freak his brothers out and it worked.

Both JD and Branch have trouble sleeping so sometimes you'll find one of them in the others bed

Clay, John and Floyd often will forget what they were doing and stand there, spinning around in a circle saying "what was I doing? What was I doing?" Before either remembering or giving up for a moment to remember minutes later. It's funny for Branch and Bruce to watch as they try and remember.

Clay is a koala type cuddler. He latches on and doesn't let go. So is John and Branch.

The reason JD and Clay don't get along is because they're a lot a like. They don't see it, even if someone points it out.

Floyd can't sit in a chair properly to save his life

[k-kizkhalifa]

oh have an excerpt from a fic i am working on bc i really loved this scene. ugh. draco being an adult. harry being a little nervous and uncomfortable. (probably posting the first part later today).

bro "kizinold anon" said the word: pink, and i said: lets write a WHOLE FKN FIC.

anyway, here is this:

Harry walked back down the hallway, thirty minutes later to find his whole den a mess. Draco, with his sleeves rolled up, was standing at the coffee table that he cleared off by quite literally just swiping everything to a pile on the floor, with Harry’s cup of coffee in hand  taking a drink. 

“What the fuck is this?”��

“Piles, organization, whatever you want to call it,” Draco answered after he swallowed, “why haven’t you told anyone about this?” 

“You all are so busy,” Harry shrugged, as he looked down at the coffee table. He eyes drug over Draco’s neat handwriting, Dementor Attacks. Werewolves Missing. Trolls Traveling. A piece of parchment sat above all else that read: North. 

“You think it is nothing?” 

“I plan on doing some asking around,” Harry lifted a shoulder, not meeting Draco’s look, “I’ll take care of it.” 

Draco frowned, “you know we’re all pretty capable wizards, though I do question that Boot, bloke, sometimes.” 

Harry chuckled, “why do you question Boot?” 

“He’s…” Draco lifted a slender shoulder, smiling, “not always friendly, let’s say.” 

“What?” 

Draco shrugged, “anyway, the point I’m trying to make, Potter. Is that you have a pretty capable team. Oh, Creevy is a shit show too.” He sighed, “you have about four of us, in office at all times, that are pretty damn good at what we do.” Draco couldn't really speak on the other team that they rotated at Azkaban with.

Harry smiled, “I know you all are good at what you do, that’s why I get to focus on these things.” 

“Is this about obligations outside the Ministry?” 

Harry sighed, and reached out taking his coffee mug from Draco, before he took his own drink and handed it back, pressing his fingers to his temple. “Everyone has their lives, they deserve to be able to go home and live them.” 

“I feel, just speaking out of hand here, Potter, but that means you get to live life outside of the Ministry, as well.” 

“I do,” Harry looked down at the table again, “so, it’s a lot of movement.” 

“It is,” Draco answered, “felt anything in that scar of yours, lately?” 

“Uhm, no.” Harry rubbed at the scar at the mention of it, “as far as I know, even if it was something to do with Voldemort, whatever part of him was inside of me is dead now. Right? Like that’s why I’m standing here, talking to you, Draco.” 

“Right, of course.” Draco nodded, “no, I haven’t felt anything either.” 

“I wasn't going to ask.” Harry said quickly, his eyes still trained on the papers, “I don’t imagine it’s Voldemort. I would like to think I managed that.” 

Draco chuckled, rolling his eyes, “right, of course.” He moved around Harry’s den, taking another drink of the coffee, as he sat on the edge of the armchair with a tired sigh. “Didn’t Weasley and Boot just take down that small group?” 

“A few weeks ago,” Harry nodded, his eyes drawn to the pink bag. He hated the fact he thought it, again. The thought of Draco Malfoy being the one to wear that pink lingerie set. He turned, forcing himself to look at the papers and willing his erection to just go away. “Why?” 

“Did they say anything? About things like this?” 

“Oh,” Harry cleared his throat and walked over to his briefcase, finding the report and pulling it out. He looked down at it, willing himself to just focus on reading it and not on the fact Draco Malfoy wouldn’t be wearing the pink lingerie set, but that his girlfriend would, and there wasn’t anything Harry could do about it. 

“Well?” 

Harry jumped, before shaking his head, “uh, sorry, Ron’s handwriting….” He sat the report on his desk, “looks like it was just a group of kids thinking about doing black market trades.” 

“Oh,” Draco frowned, “I’m sure they were beaten all to hell.” He added, quietly, finishing the coffee. 

Harry glanced over at the word choice, “what did ya mean Boot wasn’t always friendly?” 

“He’s a little heavy handed,” Draco lifted a shoulder, “okay, so, these reports have started coming in over the last few weeks, right?” 

“Yes, just a bit now.” Harry moved, sitting on the couch opposite Draco, watching the blonde think as he tried to work through it all. 

“What’s North? Besides cold?” His lips turned down, his eyes closed, and then he stood up and looked around. Harry watched him, confused, as the blonde seemed to make himself comfortable with the layout of Harry’s house. He grabbed the coffee mug, walked through the living room, and into the kitchen. Harry turned to watch him, wondering if Draco was like this everywhere he went. He heard him pouring himself another coffee, “cream?” He called, but before Harry could answer he heard the ice box open. 

Harry sat back, on the couch, and then Draco was next to him holding out a warm mug of coffee, just the way it had been. Harry noticed it was a new mug, Draco keeping the one he had been drinking out of. The one, really, Harry had been using before Draco appeared on his doorstep. 

“Azkaban,” Draco said quietly, moving to sit next to Harry, rather than across from him. “But, what is on the island these creatures could want?” He frowned, “aside from the prison?” 

Harry took a drink, trying not to look at the blonde who was making himself very comfortable. He frowned as the words settled around him. “I mean it is very well guarded.” 

Draco nodded, “I’m aware. Have you been out there lately?”

[stevie-finds]

"Tape 2" - Retrospective

"I miss you" - Tape 2 - YouTube

Back again finally! I've been caught up with a few things but found time to edit and post this next one bit by bit haha.

This one was weird- Piper doesn't usually keep things from me, so the part about her not wanting to tell me her theories regarding any supernatural explanation (using the word 'explanation' loosely here) rubs me the wrong way. She would delight in convincing me of the existence of ghosts, demons, even alternate dimensions (which I did lean into, only with scientific explanations).

From the previous email, as well as my findings on it, the town 'Elmsbury-Gallows' keeps cropping up; this is odd, since according to both the man who recognised the name from the library, and the archives of said library, the town does not exist.

I have been looking into travelling back up to the Midlands to check more local records- possibly to mine and Piper's home town though I haven't the faintest idea of where to stay (both of my parents have passed away, and Piper's moved back to Dunfermline after she stopped contacting me, judging by their Facebook).

I am confident that this 'Elmsbury-Gallows' place is located somewhere in the English Midlands based on the accent of the girl in the tapes.

I was ready to stop looking, feeling I didn't have enough to go on, until I received a letter.

I don't think I need to point out the obvious: that this letter was hand-posted through my letterbox due to its lack of address, that the sender knows not only my name, but Piper somehow. All of the notes enclosed were in her handwriting.

I suppose I now know the name of the girl in the tape: Sydney Cunningham. The notes also say that the last tape was recorded on 2nd July 1996, and that Piper thought it was potentially a broadcast of Sydney's 'disappearance'.

The paper of the double-sided notes page is torn in the bottom corner, obscuring a phrase beginning with 'Elmsbury Preservat--' and a consecutive sequence counting down from 10, which corroborates with the drawing of ten 'turns' on the other side. Piper made the note to 'move like a spiral pattern', though I am still a little lost on what that could mean.

The back of the first notes page has two lists, labelled 'FIRST ATTEMPT' and 'ATTEMPT #2', followed by the dates I presume these 'attempts' were made, and lists counting back from 10, neither of which reach 1.

There is also the matter of the music notes, and the starry curtain. I don't know what to make of the man's face, I really cannot think how he factors into all this.

The second page is single-sided, with the corner torn off, though the torn corner is included in the envelope with a sequence of letters that I believe correspond to musical notes, though there are more there than on the stave drawings. The page has a drawing of a wafting curtain on it, covered in stars, with what I think is a road going towards it. The stars can also be seen doodled on the note pages.

What got me the most, however, was the printed sheet. It looks to be some kind of checklist, the watermark giving clear indication that it is a 'ranger checklist' mentioned by Sydney in the tapes. Four of the boxes are marked, I don't think I need to repeat what's written in the Ranger's Notes part.

I don't know who sent me this- I am not entirely sure if it's even real, it could very likely be some internet troll who found my previous post and decided to play a trick on me. I am well aware of doxxing and how they could have easily gotten my address; how they could have replicated Piper's handwriting, however, is a little trickier to explain.

Assuming it is real doesn't feel like the preferable option. But if I were to do so, I would be remiss if I didn't point out the merging of these two realities. The ranger checklist makes me think that maybe Sydney's 'delusions' could be a little more based in reality than we initially thought, and this is definitely not her creative writing project. It also kind of proves that, in some capacity, Elmsbury-Gallows exists: and my friend knew this.

I miss you too, Piper. I want to come and see.

[peach-jelly-lemon]

Turtle headcanons but almost all are about Donnie (movie spoilers)

- Spiny softshell turtles (I think thats what he is) have stripes from their eyes down to their neck and are covered in spots. I made those purple like the canon shoulder stripes. The extra stripes and spots became more noticeable after the movie when he was around 17/18.

- Spiny softshell turtles are not adapted well to handle changes in oxygen levels so Donnie has asthma

- Donnie is the younger twin

- He had glasses when he was younger but not during the show time because he outgrew them and has put off finding a suitable replacement because he hates the way the temples of them squish against his head when he also has his headphones/goggles on.

- Actually very squeamish around blood/major injuries but was unfortunately delegated to the stand-in medic after the events of the movie since Leo was out of commission.

- More of an ‘all the turtles’ thing but they go through three major growth spurts, (look at the babies compared to the tots compared to the show compared to future leo like woah there) one from 1-3, one at around 11, one at 18-20. The one at 18-20 gives them some more unique features like the spots, makes them even taller, and finishes their brain development (like humans at 25).

- Mikey caps out at 5′5 cause apparently all that growth went to his mystic powers. Donnie gets to 6′9 and Leo gets to 6′7. Raph gets to 7′2. Their new base after the movie is bigger.

- Will Wood listener

- Wants to go to comic-con type things but the idea of all those people makes him nauseated. If he did he would get fake tusks and very easily pass as a troll from world of warcraft cosplayer.

- He’s so used to taking notes/designing things/etc on a computer that combined with the turtle hands he has the worst handwriting of the four of them.

- Bi + demiromantic

- Best swimmer of all of them and can breathe underwater. Forgets that the others can’t breathe underwater very often.

- The worst case of resting murder face you’ve ever seen, to the point where he regularly practices ‘proper’ facial expressions/reactions in the mirror in order to not freak out strangers.

- That wrong tooth Leo took out when they were kids did not grow back properly and its on a little tilt towards the front of his mouth. He has considered removing it and replacing it with a gold one Just For The Look but has resigned himself not to. 

- Him and Raph were the bite-y kids. Raph grew out of it because of his fear of hurting his brothers by accident. Donnie did not. Definitely bites peoples arms to show affection and absolutely was given a dog chew toy by Leo for one of his birthdays. Actually uses it sometimes but nobody knows because it would be really embarrassing.

- In the Bad Future, taught Casey how to swim, do math, history, etc. Went out when Casey was 12, defending and evacuating the rebel base after they were found. To get everyone else out he had to remotely operate a lot of things and couldn’t escape with them. 

[jjamjamm]

Coffee and/or Tea

Masterlist | Domestic Oneshots Masterlist

Wordcount: 642

Summary: Bofur's a coffee drinker, Y/N likes tea.

The habit had started when he needed the caffeine to stay awake but Bofur was still fond of his coffee.

Every morning, he would brew himself a cup, take a seat and just take in the morning before starting his day.

Over the journey, he hadn’t had the luxury, which had made the trip just that much rougher.

Once the mountain was reclaimed, you had a surprise waiting for him that had him over the moon.

You had ordered a delivery for him once everyone had gotten settled, and when it arrived you were eager to see his reaction.

You got up just a bit earlier than usual in the morning to brew him a cup. The rich scent was comforting after having gone so long without such a thing.

Bofur stretched as he woke up, feeling right away that it was going to be a good day. He laid for a moment in bed, before it dawned on him what was different.

He sat up in bed, smelling coffee? He was sure it was coffee, but how?

“Good morning.” You greeted, carrying the cup over to him.

“Is that…?” He asked.

“You tell me.” You said, handing it over to him.

He looked at you like you had given him the world and took a sip, instantly relaxing as the comforting flavor hit his tongue.

“Where did you get this?” He asked, raising the cup for another sip.

“I ordered it a while ago.” You admitted, “Remember that troll hoard?”

“Where we buried the gold.” He nodded, putting together what you must’ve done, “I thought you were saving your share of that for you?”

“I know how much you missed your coffee.” You said, “So, it was worth it.”

Later that day, Bofur burst in on Dori, who was just trying to get some work done.

“Dori, you drink tea.” He said, confusing the elder dwarf further.

“I do… yes.” Dori replied hesitantly, “What is so urgent about my tea drinking habits?”

“I want to give Y/N something nice.” He said, “What’s the best one you have?”

Dori had given him a few options, sending him home to return the surprise. Bofur leaned against the counter as the tea steeped, looking over to the door as it opened.

“Someone should really tell Bombur that his handwriting is atrocious.” You called, “I spent all day trying to decipher one of his recipes, I’m still not sure if he wrote tablespoons or teaspoons for salt.”

“He has to write those down quickly, he’s worried he’ll forget it before it’s written down.” He explained, bringing the cup out to you, “I’m sure you’ve done it.”

“Having another cup already?” You teased, “I’m glad you like it so much.”

“I do, but this is for you.” He offered it over, “I got a recommendation for you.”

“Did you?” You asked, accepting the cup. You blew the steam before taking a sip and finding it to be just about perfect, “Who gave you the recommendation?”

“Dori.” He admitted, “Do you like it?”

“It’s very good.” You assured him, “Could stand to be steeped a little longer, but very nice.”

“What do you know, I make ‘very nice’ leaf juice.” He teased.

“Hey, it’s better than your bean water.” You replied, trying not to laugh at the face he made.

“It is so much more than bean water.” He swore.

“And this isn’t just ‘leaf juice’.” You pointed out.

“Let’s agree to disagree.” He shook his head, “Coffee is clearly the better of the two.”

You scoffed, “In what world?”

The Great Beverage Argument nearly destroyed the peace of the mountain before everyone agreed to leave it be. Well, it was ordered to stop, when Thorin took a side and declared it over. You weren’t happy with the outcome, but at least Bofur wasn’t one to gloat. 

[niksfics]

↬ WHAT COULD NEVER BE PT. 2

↬ PAIRINGS: Atsumu x f!reader (ft Bokuto)

↬ WARNINGS: sad shit, horrible writing (I feel like I botched this) kagehina mention, cheating, alcohol mention, reversed unrequited love. !! UNEDITED!!

↬ SUMMARY: honorable mention goes to @multi-fandom-fanfic for giving me this idea in the comment section of the first part it’s not exactly years later but it’s still some time later

↬ A/N: I totally did not cry while writing this pft

↬ WC: | 1.5K |

↬ TAG(S): @erinoikawa @fromdelos

“What does she have that I don’t” the amount of times that, that sentence had played over in my head was starting to exhaust me. Remembering the desperation in my voice caused my nose to scrunch up in a cringe until I shook the thoughts out of my head. Walking away from bokuto that night had been the second hardest thing I’d ever had to do in my life so far.

Weeks and weeks later I’d still had the ache in my chest the tears still welled up in my eyes whenever I thought about him with her, but these tears never fell. I hadn’t fully cried over him in weeks and I patted myself on the back for that. I could feel myself starting to move on. To forget.

I still cheered for the MSBY Black Jackals, but I had started online college to get my fashion degree. I’d always had a dream to work for a big corporation like vogue. Things in my life were finally starting to look up, and Miya Atsumu had taken the place that bokuto had left open that night.

He was my support system. Coddling me when he could in the weeks following bokutos wedding. I was unaware of his feelings. Oblivious at first. Until I started to notice the lingering touches he left, and although I was worried about hurting him, it excited me.

— — —

Two years had passed since the night I realized I would never feel my best friends embrace they way I craved. Two years, and now I craved a different persons embrace. The person I’d been dating for a year now, and in the second year of the two years I’d spent healing I’d slowly started mending my friendship with Bokuto. Of course I’d spoken to atsumu about it, and he’d shared his concerns but I was serious about the blonde man who’d unexpectedly stolen my heart.

I had been so caught up in Miya Atsumu it was like highschool all over again. He made me feel alive, and I grounded him when he felt like he was drifting away. The separation from his twin took a harder toll on him than he ever would have realized. So being the loving girlfriend I was I’d organized a night out with the Jackals; Kotaro and koyuki, Kiyoomi, Hinata and kageyama me and Atsumu, and Osamu and his girlfriend. It would be the first time we would all be together since the wedding.

I was nervous and this night would be the start of something out of anyone’s control. It started off normal Osamu and Atsumu hugging and exchanging pleasantries before they would start bickering and trying to compete over something stupid during dinner.

Shy kageyama who had been so stiff at the wedding seemed to be in his element with his arm draped over hinata’s shoulders while he whispered in his ear. The ginger smiling lovingly at his fiancé and it got me thinking about marrying Atsumu. It sparked a tsunami of feeling throughout my body and I found myself smiling to myself before, Cadence —osamu’s stunning girlfriend from the states— bumped my shoulder with hers and smirked at me.

“I’m glad you came up with this idea. Samu was starting to get all pissy about not being able to see his brother.” I smiled sheepishly and blushed as I shook my hand, “it was nothing tsumu was getting the same way and I really wanted to meet you so it was a win win.” She smiled and I caught bokuto looking at me from across the table. The chair next to him empty.

I smiled and leaned across the table, “hey bo! Where’s the missus?” His smile faltered slightly and if I wasn’t so good at reading bokuto I would have missed it entirely but I didn’t, “oh she had to stay late in the office tonight so she couldn’t come.” I gave him a sympathetic smile and he shrugged before the waiter came to our table and I turned to Atsumu.

Later on in the night I had gotten pretty tipsy the champagne finally hitting me, and I smiled lazily at Atsumu, adoration in my eyes and he smirked, “s’the alcohol finally getting to ya pretty girl?” He asked and I nodded before putting my forhead on his upper arm and sighing.

He moves to stand up taking a glass and a knife with him, and my eyes widen in horror over what he’s about to do. He clinks the knife on the glass a bit to carelessly and it breaks, “ah!! tsumu ya moron what the hell are ya doin?” Osamu asks standing up abruptly to avoid the liquid as a waiter rushes over to clean up the mess.

Atsumu smiles and turns to the waiter and apologizes before looking over the table at our friends, “well I just wanted ta toast ta my amazing girlfriend who I would not have if it weren’t for that idiot right there,” I facepalm as he points at bokuto and bokuto winces slightly before looking at me pained and I mouth a sorry to him.

“So thank ya buddy cause if ya weren’t oblivious I would never have gotten such an amazing partner who loves me so much that she brought my annoying little brother out here to see me.” I hear Osamu groan and roll his eyes.

“you’re only three minutes older than me ya troll.” Atsumu smiles patronizingly at osamu, “shut yer trap samu yer elder is talkin'.” Everyone laughs at that and he finally sits down before I hit his shoulder and smile at him slightly, “you’re an idiot tsum-tsum” he shrugs, “but I’m yer idiot right y/n?” And then he plants a big sloppy kiss on my cheek and I squeal in disgust.

The amount of happiness and joy coursing through my body had been missed. I was finally over the one person I thought I would need to live, and with the person I was destined for. I finally had what bokuto had. I couldn’t be happier.

After that night things between me and bokuto were tense for awhile. I brushed it off as he thought maybe I was still hung up on him. Oh how I couldn’t have been more wrong. I had no idea the anger and jealousy that was bubbling up under bokutos skin, and the most frustrating part of all of the bullshit that was going on, was he didn’t understand why he felt like this. He was happily married. I mean as happily married as one person could be right?

It only got worse though when two weeks later Miya fucking Atsumu was calling him asking for his help to propose to his best friend. He was annoyed and irritated and his wife was coming home at two in the morning smelling different than when she had left. It was not a happy time for him, but he obliged telling him about how the beach would be the most perfect place, and to make sure that he does it at night.

He also added in that he should create a pathway lit by fairy lights because I would simply die over it, and how I didn’t like diamonds so make sure it wasn’t a cliche ass diamond.

And that’s how I found myself on the beach my heart had completely broke on, a week later in front of the man I love as he kneeled with a gorgeous jeweled ring in a black velvet box in his hands.

“Will you y/n y/l/n make me the happiest man in the world and marry me?” The tears collecting in my eyes were the happiest tears I’d ever cried in my life as I knelt down and hugged him around his neck, “yes yes!! Yes! Of course I will tsumu”

We hadn’t seen bokuto in the distance watching us with tears in his eyes as he realized what he’d lost. As he wished he could go back in time and do it all over. Do things differently.

Maybe he would have let you keep his jacket on in that storage supply closet. Maybe he should have asked you to get boba instead of koyuki, maybe he should have realized sooner he was projecting onto koyuki because he was scared to love his best friend the way he knew you loved him.

So as he stared at the RSVP card in his hands with yours and Atsumu’s names on it in fancy handwriting. He wonders if this is how you felt when you had gotten his card with koyuki, he wonders if you had felt as lost and hopeless, and torn between wanting you to be happy and also wanting you to be with him instead. So as he swallowed the same lump you had swallowed two almost three years ago he realized that this was some kind of sick karma.

He felt partially responsible for the mess that this had become. You and him were never meant to be.

[purple-stuck]

I'm sorry that happened but at least now you know for future reference! I was hoping you could write purple Kankri trying to flirt with Cronus (key word being try assume it seems like purple Vantases are pretty intimidating) but if you don't like Cronkri (which is super fair!) would you please write about purple Kankri in general? c:

Cronus didn't even know why he still went to this bar in the first place.

The music was always pretty bad. Between hip hop artists who just said the same lines over and over again and rock and roll bands who could barely be heard over the sounds of their poorly tuned guitars, it was a miracle that any of these artists even managed to sell their music to this place in the first place. Credit where it was do, it did make him want to drink. Besides, if these guys could make careers out of their songs, there was still hope for him yet.

Cronus cast his gaze out to the bar around him, trying to push the negative thoughts from his mind. A good flirt should improve his mood, even if he knew he was likely to be rejected. His gaze honed in on a small bronze blood girl, sitting alone with three empty bottles littered beside her. Faygo, from the looks of it. Incredibly powerful for a non Purple Blood. Looks like someone could use a little company.

"Hey, doll." Cronus said, leaning seductively against the wall beside her. He figured he might as well take a note from Rufioh's playbook before he dropped the pick-up line. "Are you a math book? Because I take one look at you and think 'fuck me'."

The troll glared up at him dismissively, before craning her neck up even more. Her face twisted into an expression of terror as she looked behind him, before she quickly grabbed her empty bottles and hurried towards the door.

"What, hey! It wvasn't that bad of a line, wvas it?"

"Excuse me."

Cronus instinctively jumped at the sound and spun around to come face to chest with a lumbering highblood in a baggy purple sweater. He looked up to see Kankri Vantas leaning against the wall like he was, looking down at him with an unreadable expression covered in face paint. From this angle, Kankri's nubby horns were nigh invisible underneath that wild bush of untamable hair. Somehow, Kankri always looked like he'd never left his hive in his life.

"Oh, shit. Um, hey Kan. What are you doing here? This place really isn't your kind of scene."

Cronus never knew how to act around Kankri. If Kurloz was creepy, Kankri was genuinely intimidating, but unlike the mime, it was impossible to tell if he was doing it on purpose. Kankri seemed to exist inside of his own little world.

"Oh, my apologies. I didn't... trigger you, did I?"

...huh?

Kankri's eyebrow was wiggling, as if he was expecting Cronus to get something, but Cronus was just confused. "Um, no, I'm just confused. Why are you here?"

Kankri blinked, seemingly not expecting the question. "I don't see what's wrong with dropping by my brothers favorite bar." He glared at the juicebox in the corner. "Although, I expected your music taste to be better."

Cronus forced a laugh at that. "Heh, it's not really. I just go here whenever I hit a writer's block."

"But you're always here?"

"....Yeah." Cronus deflated. "Yeah, I am." He could never read Kankri. Anyone else and he'd swear they were mocking him with an exchange like that. Or at least teasing him. But you could never tell with Kankri.

The larger clown was so withdrawn and stoic. His every word was carefully, almost robotically chosen, like he was trying to carefully avoid possibly offending anyone. It was a strange contrast against how casual his words were and how irreverent clowns normal were. It put him right in the uncanny valley and his large size didn't help.

Kankri rested a hand on his shoulder, causing Cronus to freeze. The clown leaned over him like a robot trying to look casual. His back was perfectly straight, his grip was too tight, his posture was too perfect and tense even as he tried to unwind. It made Cronus' fins stand up on his face.

"Well, why don't we head somewhere more comfortable? Just the two of us."

....Wow.

If Cronus was talking to anyone else, he would swear he was being flirted with. But, Kankri didn't do flirting, so he was clearly just misreading signals here. Was this an attempt at being friendly? Mocking? Trying to get Cronus away from a "triggering" environment? Was Kankri trying to abduct him or something and Kurloz was waiting the back ally with a bag to drag him off to clown church in? This was all so surreal.

"Oh, no. You don't hawve to vworry about that. I don't drink so I can still vwalk back to my hiwve just fine."

Kankri shot him a weird look. Cronus thought he looked annoyed but that couldn't be it because Kankri didn't act like this when he was annoyed. Nornally, he just lectured whoever tried to bother him until they scuttled off slightly terrified.

The clown pulled a paper out of his pocket. Cronus could recognize some of Rufioh's handwriting on it as it unfolded, but that only confused him more. Kankri cleared his throat, cocked his hips, and pointed his fingers like Cronus did whenever he was about to deliver a particularly bad pickup line.

"Hey, doll. Does this place serve fish food? Because you look like a snack."

Awkward silence. Kankri's voice sounded even more robotic and forced than normal, which only made things more surreal.

"So, is this a caste outreach thing? I heard the Empress is havwing the more 'vwiolent' castes do that nowv."

Kankri starred blankly for a moment before consulting the paper again. After a quick skim, he reset his posture, crossing his arms and giving Cronus a toothy grin. Problem is, Kankri had the Kurloz problem where his smiles looked less like "hello friend" and more like "I'm going to eat your soul." Still, he was clearly trying.

"Hello, doll. Dat, er, pardon my language here, ass is looking fine."

Another awkward silence as Kankri waited for an answer. Cronus squirmed awkwardly. "So... this is a dare then? Did Meenah put you up to this?"

Kankri deflated with a sigh, ripping the paper up indifferently. It was weird to see his perfect posture slip, which was only punctuated by his words sounding less robotic and more genuinely annoyed. "Cronus, you really need to learn to take a hint."

Cronus stared as Kankri sulked out. "Uh, alright, bye then."

He quietly made his way back to his seat, aware that the whole bar was now staring at him. He picked up his guitar to distract himself. "You knovw something, bar keep? If I didn't knowv better, I'd say he vwas flirting wvith me right novw."

Thankfully, Cronus was too preoccupied with his guitar to notice the incredulous look the bartender was giving him.

[andypantsx3]

in cinders | 8 | revelations

pairing: Todoroki Shouto / Reader

length: 24,362 words / 9 chapters

summary: You’re just trying to fairy godmother your best friend into a happily ever after. If only the prince would stop hanging around and cooperate.

tags: cinderella AU, prince!Shouto, romance, misunderstandings, reader-insert

warnings: aged up characters, eventual smut

You spent every spare minute of your week in the library. The librarian seemed to recognize you from your evening lesson with Prince Shouto, and he made himself quite useful, fetching you a small set of thin books that looked well-loved. You were vaguely insulted upon discovering they were a collection of children’s fairy tale books, but the librarian had your skill level well matched. It took you most of one evening and half of the next to finish one, slowly mouthing out the words to yourself.

You could feel yourself getting more adept, and faster. Some of the words you still couldn’t quite figure out, but having the context of surrounding words--once you’d figured those out--helped quite a bit. By the end of the week you’d finished three of the small volumes.

Reading was incredible.

You also took care to practice writing out your letters, sometimes copying out the words in the stories that you couldn’t figure out in a slow hand. You were careful to hide the paper and quills in your aprons as you crossed through the kitchens, sensing Kamiko’s watchful eyes on you. She’d been restless in the last week, and you could tell she was growing frustrated that you’d seemingly escaped punishment at the hands of Lady Utsushimi.

By the time Saturday came around again, the pocket of your apron was stained inside with ink, but you had a small list of words clearly copied out to ask Prince Shouto about. Saturday morning you awoke to a note slipped under your door, reading simply:

Meet me in the ballroom. -S

Your head buzzed with his confidence that you would be able to read the message. You ran your fingers over the neat lines of his handwriting, so much cleaner than your own, before folding the note and stowing it carefully in your skirts.

You attacked your morning chores with enthusiasm, and scarfed down your lunch with an alacrity that seemed to alarm everyone around you.

When the noon bell tolled, you set off for the ballroom. Arriving from the entrance was a significantly different experience than arriving from the hidden door. The interior of the ballroom was just as you remembered, but from this angle you could pick up a fair amount more detail - the gold molding lining the windows and walls, the painting of clouds sweeping over the vaulted ceiling, and the Todoroki crest emblazoned across the floor at the center of the room.

Prince Shouto was already there, dragging a booted foot idly across his own family crest, and he looked up at the sound of your entrance.

“Y/N,” he said simply. Again, your name in his deep, clear tone sent something hot racing up your spine. You shook yourself. You were going to tell him, today. You didn’t have the time to swoon over him like a maiden in one of those children’s stories.

As he moved closer to you, however, you were struck by how happy he looked and how handsome he was, and you found yourself giving in a little.

Maybe...maybe just for today. Just today you could have this, have him. Today he would teach you to dance. And tomorrow he would be Ochako’s.

You couldn’t begrudge either of them that. Ochako was so very kind and sweet. You had no doubt that Prince Shouto would make her a good husband. He’d proved himself thoughtful and attentive - he’d taught a kitchen girl to read just because he’d worried he’d offended her. He was teaching you to dance just because you'd said you couldn't. His kindness would be a good match for Ochako’s sweet-tempered nature.

The thought of them, as sad as it made you now that you understood your own feelings, also warmed you. They’d make each other so happy.

And if Shouto wasn’t too furious with you, the ladies’ maid job was probably still yours. You’d still get to lounge around with a book and have tea with Ochako on the daily.

Yes, after today.

“Your highness,” you said by way of acknowledgement.

“Shouto,” the prince said quickly, almost so abruptly that you didn’t hear him.

You looked up at him. “Your highness?”

“My name,” he said, looking somewhat self conscious. “It’s Shouto.”

You looked at him in askance, wondering why he was telling you. Did he think you thought his proper name was Your Highness?

He seemed to sense your confusion. “I’d like you to use it. My name.”

You stared at him. Had he gone mental?

“Your highness, I couldn’t--that’s not--”

He let out a soft noise that sounded something like frustration. “You don’t have to. But I’d like it very much if you did. Think of it as a favor to me. In exchange for the lesson.”

You thought it a rather uneven deal, but you sensed the note of earnestness in his voice.

Yes, just for today. For today you could give yourself this.

You drew a breath.

“Shouto,” you said, face pinking a little. “Thank you for teaching me how to dance.”

He laughed. “Well I haven’t yet. You can thank me after if I’ve proved any good.”

You thought of his strong form, leading you smoothly through the dance as you stood on his boots. If his performance at the ball was any indicator, he would prove very good.

“Before that,” you said, thrusting a hand into your apron pocket. “I’d like your help with something else.”

You pulled out your parchment with the words you’d carefully copied down on it and held it out to him. He stepped closer to you, and you could feel the warmth of his fingers as his hand closed around the note. His mint scent washed over you and your brain went a little fuzzy. He was always so overwhelming up close.

“These are words I found in books at the library,” you said. “I couldn’t figure them out even with context. I thought perhaps you could help?”

He stared at you for a moment, his gaze burning into yours like embers in a warm hearth.

“You read books on your own?” He asked.

You nodded, and he let out a short laugh.

“Of course you did,” he said. “You were a quick study, I shouldn’t be surprised.”

You flushed.

“What did you read?” he asked, and you named the three story books you’d finished.

He smiled. “Which was your favorite?”

You thought for a moment, running over a tale of schemes and plots and adventure. “East of the Sun, West of the Moon. I liked the girl’s persistence, and their plan to trick the trolls and save the prince. It seems I like a good adventure story.”

Shouto laughed. “Why doesn’t that surprise me. Now that you know what the storybooks say of princes, you will tire of me quickly. I’m afraid I can’t do anything nearly as interesting as turn into a white bear.”

You chuckled. “I know the difference between fantasy and reality. I can think of a few real life trolls, though.” Your mind turned to Kamiko.

He grinned and it looked so charming on his normally serious face that you found yourself smiling hopelessly back.

“Well then, let’s have a look at your words.” He said, unfolding the parchment. His dual toned gaze scanned quickly over your careful scribbles. He read them out carefully to you, pointing to each one with an elegant finger.

You scowled as he read the last. “How is neighbor possibly spelled like that? Why’s it got all the extra letters?”

He chuckled. “I suppose I never thought about it.”

“Well now’s the time,” you said a little oafishly and he laughed again.

“I promise to do my research on its origins if you can memorize two dances by the end of the evening,” he said, something like a challenge sparkling in his eye. “So we’d better get to it if you want to have any chance of finding out.”

You nodded seriously. “I accept your terms.”

With that, he stepped closer to you. Your mind suddenly went a little blank.

Shouto took your hand and pulled it up to a strong shoulder. Now that you knew the truth of his power, you thought you could feel the coolness of his right side through his soft doublet, almost cold under your fingertips. His left hand grasped your own, much the opposite, feeling like it was mere degrees from scalding you.

His right hand came up to your back, pressing you carefully to him.

“Now, step your left foot back and follow with your right,” he said, and you did. He went with you easily, pressing even closer into your space.

“Now step right with your right and follow with your left.”

You did as he asked. For every step you took, he followed you closely. After a while, you began to pick up the pattern of the steps and anticipate your moves. Soon enough, Shouto stopped directing you, content to just lead you along with the strength of his arms and the sureness of his steps.

A thumb stroked softly across your back and you shivered, unable to help yourself. Shouto’s grip tightened around you, pulling you even nearer to him, and all of a sudden you were transported back to the ball -- being so close in his space, feeling his calloused thumb along your back.

Shouto’s gaze burned into you the way it had that evening, looking out at you as he had from behind his mask.

You stared back, feeling helplessly caught in his gaze. You cast about desperately for something to break the tension, to pry your thoughts from going down a path that the prince would certainly never follow you on.

“Do you dance often, your highness?” A warning look from him had you correcting yourself, “Um, Shouto, I mean.”

To your surprise, he shook his head. “I try not to.”

You wondered at that. He was good at it, and he’d certainly not had any reservations about tricking you into dancing with him, that evening on his birthday. But then, you supposed, he had been obfuscating for whatever reason, finding a way to prevent you from learning the whereabouts of your friend and his valet.

“Why not?” you asked as he swept you expertly around the room.

“Camie is the only one I can stand to dance with,” he said, fixing you with a dry look, “and she much prefers standing around and gossiping. All the other ladies are a bit too much for me, I’m afraid.”

“Too much how?”

Discomfort flashed across his handsome features. “You’ve heard, I suppose, that my father means for me to marry?”

You nodded. You’d heard the rumor that this was the true motivation for the ball.

He cleared his throat. “Many of the court ladies are, ah, eager to become a princess. I’ve found that for many of them, I am...somewhat of a game.”

Oh.

You were hit with a wave of feeling for him, eyes roving over his figure. Discomfort was written into every line of his body.

He was a royal, better off than any in the castle in so many fortunate ways, but you supposed the curse of one’s station was inescapable at any level. For all his books, and the size of his quarters, and the fineness of his soft shirts, he was still just as defined by his station as you and Ochako.

You nodded, feeling an understanding, “They see you for what you are, rather than who you are.”

Shouto leveled you with a scorching look, his eyes boring into yours. “Yes.”

His intense stare unnerved you. You could only gaze back, feeling lightheaded with the intensity of his focus.

All of a sudden you stumbled, feeling completely unsteady, and it was enough to break the moment.

“I suppose that’s one dance down,” Shouto said, glancing away as he reached out to right you. “You did well.”

You let out a shaky laugh. “Soon, I will have my prize.”

He smiled and pulled you gently into him again. You arranged your hands over him once more, and he began to lead you in a different dance.

“Though I do not prefer to dance, this one has become a recent favorite of mine,” he said in his calm tone, before directing your steps again.

As you moved, you began to recognize a familiar set of steps. Though you weren’t standing on his boots this time, the feeling of the movements felt similar and you laughed quietly to yourself. So this is how it would have felt if you hadn’t been stepping all over his toes. This is how it could have felt had you been a proper lady.

That evening, he’d held you so close to him. You’d been so embarrassed and so desperate to wiggle out of his grasp that you hadn’t thought to enjoy it. But now you could, and you let yourself bask just this once in the feeling of his rough hands on you, the strong lines of his body pressed closely to yours, his mind-addling fresh mint scent you could catch with every breath.

He was pressed so firmly to you that you could hear his chest rumble when he finally spoke.

“I’d never come across a lady without interest in my station before. Until my birthday some weeks ago.”

You looked up at him quizzically. Was he going to talk about Ochako? You had hoped for a few moments more before you had to give him up. But it was time, then.

“On that night,” he continued, eyes glittering down at you, “I met a girl who refused to give me her name.”

You froze, feeling yourself stiffen under his hands. Was he...was he telling you about you?

“I had thought her a contriver as all the rest, until she tried to run from me. It became clear she had no interest in me, and for that she caught my interest.”

You felt his hands tighten on you, and your heartbeat picked up in your chest. What did he mean by interest? Why was he telling you of yourself, when his gaze had only been for Ochako that evening?

Your mind began whispering wild insinuations at you, but it couldn’t be true. Ochako, he had been interested in Ochako.

“She kept insisting on fetching her friend and I thought perhaps she was already married, to have so little concern for making her own introduction. But I could find no sign of a husband on her.”

His thumb smoothed over your ring finger where he grasped your hand, and all your focus narrowed to that one spot. Suddenly, the only sensation left in your body was there, where his skin brushed yours so unbearably gently.

“She was so cross with me, so eager to get away, and I’d never experienced anything like it,” he said. “I confess to acting obnoxiously, insisting that she dance with me, only to find that she was perhaps the worst dancer in all the kingdom.”

You could feel your face burning, and you realized with alarm that the two of you were no longer moving, stopped in the middle of the floor.

“She was so easy to tease,” he said, and a gentle hand came up to catch a strand of your hair. You felt your mind turn to liquid, feeling your thoughts empty from your brain so effortlessly like water trickling through a sieve. “And her hair smelled a little like olives.”

He tucked his face into your hair, taking a deep breath, exactly as he had the night of the ball. You stilled completely. Your heart was rabbiting in your chest and you felt hunted.

“You had reminded me, in the kitchens, of the very same girl,” he said, mouth at your ear. “So you can imagine my surprise when you moved closer in the library, and I caught the scent of olives in your hair.”

That’s what had had him freezing up. That's why he had acted so strangely after that. You felt his next words coming before he even spoke them.

“I’ve found you again, Lady No Name.”

You stood frozen in his grasp, feeling like he’d iced you to the floor with his magic. Your mind was simultaneously empty of every thought and racing faster than a horse at full gallop. What now? Was he angry?

He pulled back to look at you, his two-toned eyes darker than you’d ever seen them. His hand caught your chin, tipping your face up to his.

"I'm so happy it was you."

And then his mouth was over yours.

You had just enough time to register the heat of his kiss, and his fingers still entwined in your hair. And then Izuku Midoriya burst into the ballroom, doors clattering behind him.

“Shouto!” he shouted, and the prince jumped away from you. “Your father has immediate need of you in--oh.”

Your face went red and you ducked your head in embarrassment. The prince cleared his throat.

“Izuku,” he said, and the sound startled you. You flinched. "Does it have to be now?"

Izuku frowned but nodded, looking extremely apologetic. "I'm afraid so."

Shouto closed his eyes, letting out a long breath. Then he turned to you. “Please wait for me. I will speak with you after.”

He tried to catch your eye but you couldn’t look at him. Ochako suddenly floated in front of your vision and you burned with shame. You needed to tell her. You needed to apologize.

The prince hesitated, looking concerned, but another call from Midoriya had him moving to the door. In another moment he was gone, leaving you alone just as he had the night of the ball.

You stood for a moment, letting the tidal wave of feelings wash over you. Shouto knew you were the lady from the ball. He knew and he'd still wanted time with you. He knew and he'd kissed you. Your stomach churned with confusion, surprise, happiness, and shame.

You squared your shoulders, crossing to the door. You had to talk to Ochako this instant before Shouto found you again. You had feelings for him, you might even call it love, but no matter your feelings you had to set things straight. You would not choose him over your lifetime of friendship with Ochako.

You rushed down the halls and into the doorways the lead to the servants’ quarters. Though it was early afternoon, the servants’ halls were strangely barren. You met surprisingly few people as you raced towards the kitchens.

When you arrived, you found why.

Dozens of servants were gathered into the kitchens, roiling like an agitated swarm of bees, watching the scene unfold before them. A legion of the kingsguard was present, a few of them blocking access to one side of the room. Over their shoulders, you could see the housekeeper, and beside her was Kamiko. In Kamiko’s hands was a familiar pink dress, and she was screaming almost louder than you’d ever heard a person scream before.

“Thief! You filthy little thief, this will teach you!”

Your eyes snapped towards the victim of her ire and all at once your heart stopped.

Trapped in the heavy grasp of one of the kingsguard, looking more frightened and miserable than you’d ever seen, was Ochako.

[thatsamericano]

Roses, Balloons, Chocolates, Wine, and a Custom Mix CD

Pairings/Characters: America/Romano. Background Gerita, appearances from Belgium and England.

Ratings: Teen, but only for cursing. Extremely fluffy with no warnings to speak of.

Summary: For Romano, Valentine’s Day is just another reminder that he’s alone and unloved. He doesn’t care that he has to spend time at a world meeting. But when a “secret admirer” surprises him with extravagant gifts they left at the chair he’d been using for the past few days, Romano realizes that he wasn’t as unloved as he had thought.

Word Count: 1987

Notes: Written for Day 7 of @hetaliancupid-hetaliaevent.

Veneziano was pouting as he walked towards the conference room hand in hand with his boyfriend. His older brother trailing behind them and scowling. “England is so un-romantic,” Feli complained. “I can’t believe he’d schedule a meeting on Valentine’s Day of all days!”

Germany frowned thoughtfully. “Normally I would argue that these meetings are important for international cooperation on world issues affecting us all. But I was hoping to spend more time with you today, schatz.”

Romano rolled his eyes. “Well, some of us are perpetually single and don’t give a shit.” Savino didn’t hate the concept of Valentine’s Day, a special occasion to spend time with a significant other and celebrate the love you feel towards each other. But since he didn’t actually have a significant other and was forced to spend way too much time around Feli and his macho potato, Savino wasn’t a huge fan of the holiday. For him it was just another reminder that he was alone and unloved.

“Aww, cheer up, fratello! I’m sure you’ll find someone soon.”

Savino scoffed. “Unlikely.” Little did Feliciano know, but Romano actually had found someone he wanted to be with. But America hadn’t been able to pick up on the many and increasingly obvious hints he had dropped over the years, so Savino was beginning to lose hope. Alfred wasn’t stupid, and Romano didn’t think he was that oblivious. Maybe he was ignoring Savino’s feelings because he felt uncomfortable rejecting him outright. That sounded exactly like something that idiota would do.

Germany pushed open the doors to the conference room where several nations were already milling around, speaking to each other in small groups. (They had left a bit later than usual, since Romano was dragging his feet and took a while to get ready.) The meeting room looked just like it had for the past few days, except for Romano’s chair, which was festooned with too many red, white, and pink heart-shaped balloons for him to consider counting. A crystal vase filled with red roses had been placed on the table where he would usually take notes, along with a giant heart-shaped box of what Romano could only assume was chocolates.

“What the fuck?” Savino muttered to himself.

Feliciano turned to him with a smug grin. “See, I told you, Savi! I knew you’d find someone.”

“It’s probably just a dumb prank.” Romano wouldn’t put it past someone to mess with him that way, wanting to see him get excited just so they could laugh at him later. But he could feel his face heating up as he pushed past Feli and his boyfriend and rushed over to the seat he’d been using for the past several days.

Romano’s eyes widened when he got close enough to see the box and see that it wasn’t just chocolates, but Godivas. If this was a prank, it was a particularly expensive and stupid one. He checked the small card stuck among the roses, but that didn’t provide a clue. It only said that it was “To Savino, from your secret admirer.” The person who’d written the note had drawn a heart with a cartoon arrow pointed through it underneath their message. Savino sensed that the handwriting was familiar, but he couldn’t recognize it instantly.

Romano frowned. “Ugh. I wonder why they didn’t tell me who they are.”

Romano sensed someone walking closer to him, and when he glanced over, it turned out to be Belgium. She had a small, inscrutable smile on her face as she delicately touched one of the roses with her fingertip. “I think they were nervous. It can be hard to tell someone you like them, especially if you don’t know how they feel about you.”

Wait, wasn’t Godiva a Belgian brand? Was Belgium his secret admirer? Savino’s eyes widened in alarm. He tried to respond, but he was struggling for words.

“Emma, I’m flattered. I’m really, really flattered, and I know I used to have a crush on you when I was a little kid, but—”

Emma laughed. “Relax, silly. It wasn’t me. But your secret admirer called me a few days ago to make sure Godiva was a brand you’d like. They were so anxious, and they really wanted to make you happy. It was adorable.”

“So you know who they are? Aren’t you going to tell me?”

Belgium smirked at him. “That would kind of ruin the whole secret admirer thing, now wouldn’t it?”

Romano glared at his old friend, but it had no effect on Belgium. She giggled as she walked away to go speak to her brothers, and Romano glanced around the conference room to see who his secret admirer might be. It clearly wasn’t Austria, who was kissing Hungary on the cheek. Savino’s heart lodged in his throat when he saw America from across the room. Alfred was smiling warmly as he handed over a black and white cat plushie to Japan. He knew the gesture probably wasn’t romantic, since Alfred liked to give his friends Valentine’s Day presents too. He had given Savino several stuffed animals over the years, and they usually sat on his headboard unless Romano was feeling particularly lonely, in which case he might hold one as he slept. But just the thought of America choosing Kiku over him hurt far more than it should have.

America looked up suddenly, and he gave Romano one of those huge, obnoxious grins that could make the sun look dim and dreary by comparison. Savino blushed and fought the impulse to smile back at him, but his lips were twitching at the corners. He forced himself to glance away, hoping against hope that Alfred had only met his eyes coincidentally and hadn’t noticed that Savino had been staring at him like a goddamn moron.

Out of the corner of his eye, he could see America exchanging a quick word with Japan, who nodded in understanding. America zoomed around the table towards him so quickly that he didn’t even notice he’d bumped into Norway, who was glaring at America viciously after the unintentional slight. Hopefully Norway wouldn’t curse America with some weird troll later.

Alfred was flushed by the time he skittered to a stop in front of Romano. He was carefully holding a wine bottle with a red ribbon tied around the neck. “Hi, Vinny.”

Savino chuckled. “Hey, Fredo. Why the fuck did you run over towards me?”

“I wanted to give you your Valentine’s Day present before the meeting started.” America passed the bottle over to Romano. “I… uh, know you’re really into wine, but I don’t know much about it, so I asked the Secret Service guys I’m friends with, and apparently one of them is married to this gal whose family owns a vineyard in Napa Valley. It’s not Italian, but he said this was a really good year, so hopefully you’ll think it’s good enough.”

“That’s… that’s actually really thoughtful of you, bastard. Thank you.” Romano carefully set the wine bottle down next to the vase of red roses and turned back to face America.

America ran his hand over his hair, which was incredibly distracting because of how golden it looked, even under the greenish overhead lighting that wasn’t flattering to anyone in general. “I, um, also made you something.” He pulled a clear CD case out of his jacket pocket. Instead of handing it over right away, like he had with the wine bottle, Alfred took a deep, shuddering breath. He seemed nervous, but Savino tried not to get his hopes up. “It’s just some songs that reminded me of you. If you don’t like it, you can throw it away, I guess.”

Alfred finally held out the CD towards him, and Savino took it. He read the inscription Alfred had written in marker. “Happy Valentine’s Day, Savino! Love, Alfred.” It was a fairly normal inscription, but then a couple seconds later, Savino realized that Alfred’s handwriting perfectly matched the note from his secret admirer. He’d even drawn a heart with an arrow pointing through it.

Romano teared up. He was ecstatic, and he was in disbelief that his Alfredo, the friend he’d been pining over for ages, was actually his secret admirer. “I can’t believe you did this for me.”

Alfred blinked at him, clearly confused by his gratitude. “It’s just a CD, dude. Most of the songs aren’t even in Italian. And it didn’t cost me any money to make.”

“I didn’t mean the CD! I meant everything. You got me wine and roses, and a giant box of Godivas! You tied so many balloons to my chair that I’m surprised it hasn’t floated up to the ceiling by now!”

“That would take a lot more balloons. These chairs are really heavy. Do you think I should have gotten more balloons?”

Savino shook his head. “Only you could do all this and worry that it still wasn’t enough. I love you so much, Alfredo.”

“You… you love me? Like as a friend? Because if so, you’re gonna feel really awkward if you listen to that CD.” Alfred glanced away, chuckling nervously. “I put a lot of cheesy romantic ballads on there.”

Savino yanked Alfred down by his shirt collar and planted a firm kiss on his lips. America barely had a chance to respond before Romano pulled away and looked straight into his eyes.

“I like cheesy romantic ballads, and I like you. And not just as a friend, idiota.”

Alfred gave him a goofy, lovestruck smile. “Awesome.”

Romano smirked and played with Alfred’s tie to tease him a little. “I didn’t get anything nearly as extravagant for you for Valentine’s Day, but maybe later we can go back to my hotel room and listen to that CD you gave me. I’ll make dinner for us. It can be our first date.”

Alfred tilted his head down playfully. “I love your food, Vinny. And I love you.”

“I know you do.”

They kissed again, and this time it was more passionate and emotional, but it didn’t get inappropriate for their very public setting. Before it could get inappropriate, someone cleared their throat loudly, which interrupted them.

England had an awkward, mildly irritated frown on his face. “If you two don’t mind, everyone else is ready to start the meeting now.”

Alfred giggled. “Sorry, Artie.” He didn’t sound sorry at all, and Romano couldn’t blame him. He hadn’t thought about the work they were supposed to do today ever since he had discovered the surprise his “secret admirer” had left for him.

Romano sat down in his chair, and America took the chair next to him, where Veneziano had been sitting for the past few days. When he looked across the table, Feliciano was in the seat Alfred had been using during the extended multi-day conference, taking up the place between Japan and Canada. He beamed and waved to them from across the table. Alfred waved back enthusiastically.

Savino turned to look at his Valentine. “You switched seats with my brother?”

“I kind of told him what I was planning yesterday and asked if I could sit next to you if things went well. You don’t mind, do you?”

“Of course not. I’m glad I get to sit next to you.” Now Veneziano’s certainty and smugness earlier made sense. He had been so sure Savino would “find someone” because he knew Alfred had been planning to reveal his feelings today.

Alfred shifted closer so that they could hold hands under the table. England had started his opening presentation, but America wasn’t even feigning interest or pretending to take notes. “I’m glad I get to sit next to you too,” he whispered.

Savino ducked his head to hide the grin he couldn’t contain anymore and squeezed Alfred’s hand. His heart was beating too fast and he was too happy to pay attention to anything England might have been saying.

[rmg91]

Meant To Be-6

I FORGOT LINKS THE FIRST TIME I POSTED!

*Creeps in* Heeeeey~ Look who's got an update for you?! Yes, it's been months. Yes, this is just something fluffy cause the muses didn't want to do something holiday themed. And yes, I'm still more invested in my RP with Autumn than writing more fic (even though I do wanna write more fic and Autumn's been busy with holiday things so I have time to write just have lack of motivation!) ANYWAY! Please enjoy this unbeta'ed bit of fluff.

Chapter Summary: Poppy's far too comfortable in Branch's arms to move right now.

Previous Chapter/Next Chapter; AO3;FF.Net (coming later)

@writerofberk-HAVE SOME FLUFF!

~*~*~*~*~*~

“Surprise Hug Time!”

As her voice rang out loud and clear, trolls all around jumped eagerly into each others arms as the Queen's giggles echoed around them, the pink troll making a mad dash to her chosen partner and reason for the sudden activity. She was caught easily between strong, teal arms, the troll they belonged to swinging her in a half arc before he settled her on the ground. Poppy giggled happily, burying her face in Branch's neck as she squeezed him close. She felt him chuckle, that gentle fond one that always filled her with warmth, and she cuddled deeper into his hold, breathing a sigh of content. She loved being hugged by him, just like this, holding each other tightly, her arms around his neck as she rested her head on his broad shoulders, his own arms snugly wound around her waist and rocking gently side to side. She hummed and nuzzled her nose against his neck, making no move to leave his hold even though she had lots and lots to do today. But she was so comfy right here in his warm embrace, that wonderfully calming earthy scent of his invading her senses as she relaxed further and further into his arms. And it felt like forever since she last shared a long lasting hug with him, even though at most it had been a few days. So a few extra minutes wouldn't hurt, she was sure.

Branch meanwhile gently nuzzled his nose against the side of her head, holding her close as he rubbed circles on her sides with his thumbs, unconsciously rocking them side to side. He had known the moment they had spotted each other from across the field she would be racing toward him, arms held wide open for a hug. Though he truthfully didn't expect her to stay after getting her fill, he knew she was awfully busy today, but there she stayed in his embrace, slowly relaxing as she tried to nuzzled her way deeper into his hold. Chuckling gently, he carefully nudged his nose against her ear, calling her name softly, “Poppy. Poppy~ Hey, I think your surprise hug time is over.” Not that he really wanted her to leave, he just knew she had a lot to get through today.

“Hmmm....Five more minutes...” She drawled, voice soft and dreamy as she drooped against him, giving happy hum before her breath slowly evened out.

Branch stood there, blinking in astonishment. Did she-? Had she just fallen asleep in the middle of a hug time? He continued to stand there, still unconsciously rubbing circles into her side, trying comprehend that she had indeed just fallen asleep standing in his arms. He was there long enough for some of the Snack Pack to approach, staring confusedly at them. He quickly made a shushing motion with his hair, not wanting them to disturb the snoozing queen. Smidge came closer and gestured to Poppy, staring at her best friend with the same astonished and confused expression as he was.

“Is she really asleep?” The petite troll's deep voice rumbled.

“Yeah...” Branch nodded carefully, not wanting to move to quickly and risk waking up his girlfriend. Poor Poppy, she must have been exhausting herself again.

Smidge frowned, thinking hard as she crossed her arms before nodding once, “You know what she had planned for today?”

“Of course,” He had made up her schedule himself after all, hoping to help her out if she knew what needed to be done for the day or what trolls wanted or needed help. Carefully, having a feeling he knew what Smidge wanted to suggest, he weaved his hair between hers and pulled out her flowery clipboard. And then sighed at the evidence that she had added more to her day for written between his neat handwriting was various add-in's in glittery gel pen. Handing the clipboard to Smidge, he watched her read it before nodding again.

“We'll take care of some of these. You,” She pointed at him with a hard look, “Make sure she gets some sleep. She won't be any fun if she doesn't and will keep falling asleep in the punch bowl like last time.”

He was all for that plan, and truthfully was going to suggest it anyway, so he agreed and as the Pack went to go help with some of the things Poppy had promised or wanted to get done, he carefully hoisted her up in his arms, gaining only a little noise of complaint before she sighed and settled down in his arms. And off he went.

First he thought about taking her to her pod but knowing how excited the village could get, opted to take her to the bunker, where it was quiet and his darling Sunshine could get a well deserved nap. He knew she wanted everyone to have fun everyday and for that big project of hers to work out but some days she forgot she needed sleep in there too and she couldn't be any fun or help to anyone if she wasn't at her best self. Something he'd have to remind her of again but for now he would make sure she slept peacefully for a little while.

Taking the quieter paths around the village, he smiled and nodded to the few trolls he came across, quiet coos or gentle laughs coming from them as they saw the queen snuggled happily in the survivalist's arms. It wasn't long before they made it to his underground home and using his hair to open the hatch, he hummed softly to her to disguise the whirl of the elevator as it carried them down. Hopping off, he made his way to his bedroom, pausing only briefly as he contemplated on how to settle her in amongst his blankets and pillows. Once again using his hair to adjust some pillows and throw some blankets back, Branch braced a knee on the side of the bed to place Poppy closer toward the middle but she clung to his vest with both hands as soon he began to lower her down. Leaning awkwardly over, Branch tried to dislodge her so she could sleep in peace but she held on tightly, making a little noise of discontent that had him sighing.

So, standing back for a moment, the aquamarine troll then carefully crawled onto his bed on his knees, careful not to jostle his precious cargo too much before settling them both down against his many pillows. Maybe if he laid down with her for a few minutes she'd relax enough so he could slip away and let her enjoy her nap. And she did relax, a happy sigh came as he wrapped his arms around her and began rubbing her back, but she didn't move away, she only cuddled closer. Branch couldn't help but huff quietly in amusement, even asleep his dear Sunshine demanded his attention and what would be the harm if he took a few minutes to close his eyes himself? So, carefully adjusting so he could cradle her more fully, he buried his nose in her soft, strawberry scented hair and let her quiet breaths lull him into dreamland alongside her. And if when they woke up later and cuddled a little longer, sharing sweet nothing and soft kisses, who's to say the village would ever know?

~*~*~*~*~*~

Come on, you all know Poppy would so fall asleep during a hug time. It's just a Poppy thing to do. Also don't wait three days to actually write something when it yells at you, it gets a little rough in place XD Hope you enjoyed and maybe next time there will be some holiday fluff! No promises though XD

[wizardouxie]

Evil!Douxie au Team Mom solidarity between Morgana and Dr. Lake

YES, but I would also like to present this: They’re neighbors.

We know Jim doesn’t tell his mother about the whole ‘trolls exist’ affair to begin with. And he tried to keep this secret away until Toby figured it out. Now do you remember that scene where Jim and Toby are testing out Daylight on different things? The episode where Draal trains him? Morgana sees them from her backyard and is startled. That’s the trollhunter amulet. The one she and Merlin made.

How... how does a human child have it?

She doesn’t tell Merlin about it. For the first two seasons of Trollhunters she doesn’t. She can do this, she has 900 years of wisdom and Merlin would only interfere and try to hold her back.

Instead she reaches out to Dr. Lake more, becoming her friend. The mother is pleasantly surprised, and she welcomes the support. On days when she’s working a busy shift, she often sends a quick text to Morgana, asking her whether Jim’s doing okay while she’s gone. Morgana in this time learns to cover for Jim, especially when he’s running out of excuses. Toby finds it to be a convenient coincidence, but Jim? He’s suspicious.

Eventually he confronts her and she admits that she’s been aware of everything that he’s just now getting exposed to. He’s a little hurt that she didn’t tell him earlier, but Morgana assures him that everything she’s done up to this point was to protect and support him.

And she’s not wrong.

Some days Jim struggles to deal with his mom because she doesn’t understand what he’s going through the way Morgana does. Morgana knows this, so when Dr. Lake complains about Jim being difficult all of a sudden, she texts the boy and works things out with him. After that Jim comes down the stairs and voices his frustrations (without giving away his other life) and Dr. Lake is relieved to see her son open up to her. Morgana receives a text two hours later.

Barbara: I know you’ve got something to do with this. I swear it’s like you’re raising this kid with me! Thank you though :)

Other times Morgana is the one patching Jim. He jokes that she’s exactly like his mom, a doctor except magical. She smiles sadly. This was the least she could do since she couldn’t heal Guinevere or Hisirdoux. She scolds him for relying too much on himself. He has allies who can help but he refuses to let them. He groans and tells her that he’s got it handled. And it’s not like she doesn’t believe him. It’s just how long can he hold on for, yknow?

For school Morgana refuses to help him with homework, only because his handwriting is terrible and she simply cannot forge it. But she can help with girls. She notices that he has an eye for Claire, and encourages him to join the Romeo and Juliet play.

“Girls would find that quite romantic in this age,” she teased, enjoying the way Jim stuttered and tripped on his words. Cute. 

Morgana also repeatedly messes around with Strickler because she knows who he really is. Neither Jim nor Strickler know about each other yet and frankly Morgana doesn’t have the heart to tell them that the history teacher turned principal was a changeling and that the student was the trollhunter. She just knew it wouldn’t be long before they would figure it out, and when they did, Strickler would try to exploit Jim’s weakness: his mother.

So she makes up excuses to stop by Barbara’s house, much earlier than Strickler can make time for. And when he does finally arrive, he’s very displeased. Not that Morgana cares.

“I’m sorry but we’re having a lady’s discussion, so if you wouldn’t mind... come back another time?”

Except there usually is no other time and honestly Barbara thinks it’s funny because she’s starting to believe that Morgana is jealous of Strickler. And then it starts to get a little overbearing. She loves her friend, but she deserves to enjoy some freedom after work.

So when Morgana is shouting at Strickler for supposedly spiking their drinks, Barbara politely tells her friend to leave. Morgana is taken aback.

“But he, I saw --”

“I don’t want to hear what you have to say about my boyfriend, Morgana. I know you care but this.... this is too much. Please leave.”

And Morgana is nearly in tears as she watches her friend drink the poison through the window. How was she going to tell Jim about this?

Fast forward to Trollmarket, where Barbara and Strickler are clutching the side of their necks. Morgana is pushing her way in with Jim, demanding to see Vendel. Her heart is racing again; this would be the third person she’s lost to her own mistakes. She can’t let it happen again. She can’t.

Her faith is renewed when Claire throws the page in and wastes no time in preparations. She can save her friend.

Her heart broke upon hearing Barbara’s screams while she uttered the incantation with Vendel, but the satisfaction of Strickler experiencing more pain had somewhat mended it. He deserved every bit of hurt that he’s caused everyone.

Afterwards they head to the hospital. While Jim and his mother are alone in the room, Morgana is discussing with the nurses about the scenario she had made up on the spot. She signs the paper and places the pen on their clipboard.

By the time she enters to check on them, her friend is fast asleep. She looks at Jim expectantly.

“Did you tell her about everything?”

“I... I didn’t get the chance?”

“James Lake Junior!”

“I know I know, I made a promise to her! But please, she’s still recovering and I really don’t want to stress her out right now...”

Morgana sighed. He did have a fair point. Barbara was by nature a very expressive person and too much exertion would only worsen her health.

“You bring up a good point. Very well, but you must tell her soon,” she replied. Jim let out a sigh of relief. Morgana clasped his hands with hers, smiling.

“You’ve come so far, little champion. I’m proud of you. And I’m sure she is too.”

[janesramblings]

Nancy Drew 2x11 Review/Thoughts

Spoilers!!!

Also a spoiler for season seven on agents of shield which i wasn’t going to say anything about but it is a spoiler so

this is also longer than usual sorry

Okay I need to stop watching Nancy Drew in the middle of class but also I’m so excited

Wait we’re already starting out with Nick not having any memories?

That’s cool

Okay Nancy’s address is written on Nick’s hands so something tells me this isn’t the first time this has happened

Oh no it’s Celia

Ryan is not doing a very good job at being surprised I’ve got to say

“You’re a millionaire!!!” Bess is so cute

Tunji Kasim is doing an amazing job being confused

Ace is mad??? This is so weird also Nancy looks so hurt

Did George call Nancy a lying millionaire who couch hops and has no home? She’s not wrong but also ouch.

Family meeting awww I need more of Ryan, Carson, and Nancy being a family

Ladies who Yacht? I’m sorry what? How did Ryan say that with such a straight face?

“I’m not... not you guys” Nancy is wonderful also I love how she had to assure Ryan and Carson that they’re not grandparents

ACE’S MOM AHHHH

She’s exactly how I imagined her 

“Acey” that’s adorable

“Fully noshed thank you” I love Ace

“You’re not food free Grant” ahhhh these writers need a raise and Alex needs one too he’s so good at these lines

Murder? What?

It’s so strange to see Nick go from the rock to the one who needs help

Nancy holding Ace’s phone while he also holds his phone better not be the only nace moment we get today

Vikings?

Whoa I was not paying attention to Nancy where did those binoculars come from?

Okay I just rewound they came from her bag that makes sense

“Did I mention you were a mechanic before you bought a restaurant?”

What’s coming for Nick?

Can’t these guys catch a break? 

The most unrealistic thing about the Drew Crew is how they all know which seat to take in the car. It that were my friends it wouldn’t matter what was happening there would be a three way argument for the front seat.

Maybe I just need better friends who knows

This thing is a little creepy

What kind of text tone does Ace have? It sounds like those creepy clown car horns

The Captain is a much better contact name than Dad

I wonder what Nancy’s contact name is on his phone

Who names their kid Aristotle? 

Aww Nick fixed the wobbly chairs in Ace’s house 🥺🥺

Watching Nick break down about accidentally killing that guy is making me cry they did this so well

Tunji Kasim needs an Emmy my god

“Can someone sign my time card?” poor grant just wants to get his work done and these guys are snapping at him and ignoring him

“Hold it down Grant” has never felt more appropriate 

Nancy... people have this societal thing called personal space

I love how she stays a respectful distance from Bess and George and she’s practically leaning on Ace.

That guy is his roommate and hates him? Why would anyone choose to live like that? That’s like deciding you want a sibling

Nancy sounding the horn and then shouting “Get in” to a very confused Celia is the peak of comedy and no I won’t be accepting any comments about this

Did Nancy just... erase Celia’s memories?

What?

“I trolled Aristotle so I wouldn’t kill him” that doesn’t seem like logical reasoning there Mr. I-Already-Forgot-Your-Name

Looks like Mr. I-Already-Forgot-Your-Name is the annoying roommate

“Is it because you’re ashamed of me?” did not have to be so painful

Again, this guy needs an award

Is Celia being nice? I kind of really like this can she stay this way?

“Is Nick going to come back part Celia?” is a very good question

Nancy has an answer to every question why has no one pointed this out yet?

Celia is very adorable like this she does not need to be so excited by an umbrella 

Ryan is rightfully very confused but also resigned? Does he just expect this from Nancy now?

“This is a terrible podcast” amen Ace

Okay so clearly you aren’t supposed to know the god’s name

“Was that me?” god bless Bess

Okay so no one knows who is who

Did Ace and Nancy appear from the same place?

“What like a heat emergency?” at least Bess is consistent

Snow!!

Okay so they’ve done this before clearly

Did they really write that Ace is a deep soul? They’re right but also... is that pivotal at the moment?

“I have a dead French lady inside me” I love George

“hey” “hi” Nick and George are very accepting of the fact that they are dating and it’s so cute

George accepting that she said so is great I love her confidence

Also whose handwriting is whose? Idk why I care but I do

“I’m not sure if that’s a last name or a first name” Yeah Ace what IS your last name? (kidding it’s Hardy I’ve predicted it)

Awww call back to the first episode with Ace’s crush

And the second with his acceptance that they aren’t going to be a couple

“Which one of you is Nancy?” that made my little shipper heart very sad

Also George’s wordless point was funny for no reason

Water gunning with holy water? Yep that was gonna work

Clearly sixth time was not the charm

Slingshot-ing steak knives? That had to have been Ace’s idea

That cut! What was that cut! That was amazing!

I’m really hoping that at some point in their memory-less state either Nancy or Ace starts flirting because how cute would that be?

I’m thinking like,,, the Daisy/Sousa kiss in the time loop episode of Agents of Shield that would be wonderful

Ace as bait??? That was an idea?? Why didn’t we see that one?

They’re dancing awww

“I like you” “I think I like you too” awww it’s so bittersweet to see what Nancy’s life could have been also they look really similar

Oof looks like they are out of memory eraser, sad

Nancy and Ace look so good together

I love how Nancy looks back at Ace instead of Bess who is right next to her

“DON’T TRUST ODETTE she will mess with you” is fantastic

Disease? That’s what killed them?

Did Nancy just finish Ace’s sentence?

“social media savant” queen

Nick lied to go eat ice cream? Seems solid I’d do the same

You’ve got to be kidding me? All of this could have been avoided if Aristotle had just not said anything?

Wow that was dramatic but also really impressive I guess

“You’re my daughter” 🥺🥺

He’s moving back home!!!

That hugggggg

Can we just keep Celia this way she’s so sweet

I really want Celia to just... accept Nancy as her granddaughter how amazing would that be?

“But I like it when you go on and on. It doesn’t happen that much anymore”

Okay sure, I didn’t need my heart anyway

Imagine a little like, preteen Ace chatting away constantly to his parents that would be so cute

I love the music in this show

Ace’s mom is amazing and she’d totally love Nancy if she ever dated Ace

Also according to the subtitles on my laptop her name is Rebecca

Aaaand Celia is still telling Everett of course she is

Nick and George are moving in together!!!! This is not a drill ahhhhhh

Awww a housewarming party how freaking adorable is that?

Lmao Nick bought the whole thing

GRANT IS THE BROTHER???

And he needs help

Okay

That’s cool 

That was a really good episode

[avid-author-activist]

types of people: favorite snow activities

making snow angels: wants more than anything to own a cat. rolls their socks instead of folding them. really wants to live in a coffeeshop au, but not necessarily as the main character. very sentimental. hates exercise more than anything. has a good sense of fashion and a pinterest board for what they want their bedroom to look like. went to/wants to go to college in new england or europe. ideal winter vibe—watching christmas movies with their family in front of the tree. 

having a snowball fight: enjoyed gym class in middle school. would pick a fight with an authority figure on three hours of sleep. either hyper-competitive or doesn’t try at all. likes dark chocolate and would (but prefers not to) drink black coffee. only has one playlist on spotify. is good at public speaking and spends too much time on tiktok. would go everywhere in a ballgown if they had one, societal expectations be damned. trolls elon musk on twitter. spent half an hour learning how to rap satisfied beat for beat. ideal winter vibe—coming inside rosy-cheeked and out of breath and making hot chocolate. 

sledding: likes mornings, but not enough to get up early. emotional outlet is creation: art, poetry, music. is an overachiever but not a perfectionist. doesn’t know the first thing about doing hair or makeup. kept a journal at some point and gave up. high-energy, but procrastinates a lot. has a few very close friends. made mud pies and fell out of trees as a kid. listens to literally every kind of music under the sun. ideal winter vibe—shopping for holiday gifts for their loved ones. 

building a snowman: wrote or writes fanfiction. was a gifted kid who fell off the curve. daydreams about owning an apartment with a window herb garden. wants an entirely different set of hobbies than what they have right now. can play the piano. has to hold their tongue at thanksgiving every year. really good at baking. likes to read but never does it. handwrites long letters for people’s birthdays. takes a lot of energy to get out of bed some days, but that’s okay :). ideal winter vibe—looking at christmas lights with hot cocoa and a friend. 

having a winter photoshoot: genuinely liked being in high school. thrift shops for days. wants to become good at knitting but doesn’t have the patience for it. is the middle or youngest child. outgoing and positive, cries when thinking about marley and me, has never seen a star wars movie. absolutely hates the idea of working a 9-5 office job. cooks all the food for the week on sunday, so friday meals are always interesting. orders coffee from starbucks almost every morning. not the smartest or the most athletic or even the kindest, but they try, and that is enough. ideal winter vibe—decorating gingerbread houses with a friend in matching xmas pjs. 

staying inside™: owns book series merch. very nonconfrontational, but would curse out jk rowling in a heartbeat. only downloaded tiktok reluctantly and quite recently, or not at all. has a good eye for puzzles. listens to npr in the car sometimes. wears fuzzy socks year round. actually has a good work-life balance. is the cool single friend who can’t give relationship advice to save their own life. ideal winter vibe—curled in an armchair with a cup of tea, watching the snow fall outside.

[hazelandglasz]

Until You Draw Me - Klaine Soulmates AU

Inspired by this post https://lilyvandersteen.tumblr.com/post/140742002854/princess-tuna-let-gavin-free-soulmate-au

On AO3

Kurt always wakes up with his skin tingling, and thus, he always wakes up with a smile on his face, even before he opens his eyes.

Because it’s not just a tingle, but a Tingle. Which means that his soulmate is awake as well, and started doodling.

Which means that Kurt’s day will be filled with doodles on his skin.

It started simple enough, as far as designs go—simple, yes, but with an elegance that Kurt enjoys. The flowery pattern remains, in time, but evolves.

On Valentine’s Day, Kurt always “receives” a bouquet on his wrist or hand. With each passing year, the talent of his soulmate grows and Kurt caresses the delicate petals on his latest “gift,” taking almost all of his forearm.

“Thank you,” he scribbles on top of it, stopping himself from writing more.

And more does he want to write!

Kurt wants to tell his soulmate that his drawings, from the simplest stick figure to the more elaborate design covering all of Kurt’s arm and hand, have given him the strength to get back from the worst of days.

That he loves him without needing to meet him.

But that he wants to meet him.

Kurt doesn’t know why he fears bringing that up—maybe because his soulmate never offered, either?

As it is, his hand tingles and he looks down, as a very neat cursive appears on his skin.

“Wait until I give you real ones :) Happy Valentine’s”

Kurt’s cheeks hurt from the width of his smile at that promise. Bringing his hand up to his lips, Kurt presses a small kiss to the last written word.

“Happy Valentine’s Day to you too,” he whispers, before getting up to get ready for his day.

---

From the moment Blaine got his first mark through the Bond, he understood a lot of things about his soulmate.

The biggest take-away from the notes Blaine finds on his forearm, his hand and, on one particularly ticklish occasion, his knees, is that his soulmate is either nervous about forgetting to do stuff or really bad at keeping his schedule.

Oh, there are a couple of scribbled notes in response to Blaine’s drawings and messages, sure, but most of the notes that come Blaine’s way are about appointments, meetings’ times and places, and grocery shopping.

The one time Blaine exploded in a burst of laughter in the middle of a nude class because “BUY MILK”, underlined three times, appeared on his knee, was memorable.

It’s… It’s endearing, that’s what it is, if Blaine is being completely honest.

He likes that there is something about his soulmate that he gets to know and keep to himself, especially something that feels like a window opened to his soulmate’s, well, soul.

Blaine wonders if he should suggest that they meet—they should, shouldn’t they?

But then again, if his soulmate didn’t ask, maybe it’s too soon?

Maybe his soulmate likes to have Blaine and his doodles in his life, but that doesn’t necessarily translate into wanting a romantic relationship with him. After all, plenty of soulmates are not romantic partners…

Blaine takes a deep breath before his thoughts can spiral.

He shouldn’t build assumptions on someone else’s thoughts just because of his dark thoughts, like Dr. Snyder always says.

Speaking of which, he needs to hurry if he doesn’t want to miss his appointment.

---

It’s not that Kurt doesn’t own Post-Its. It’s just that they somehow always evade him when he needs them.

Like, when he’s on the phone with his professor and he needs to write down a book reference.

Or when he’s on the phone with his doctor’s assistant and needs to keep track of his appointment, and since his schedule is in his phone…

Perhaps he should buy a proper, old-school pocket planner. Given his track record with his Post-Its, chances are his planner would manage to disappear too.

(Maybe he really does have a troll stealing his shit. He’ll look into it.)

It’s messy, but it works—so far, ever since Kurt got to New York, he never missed an appointment or arrived late to a meeting.

(He does run out of milk and eggs, though, because he writes it down in his palm in the morning and it just… fades away to the point of illegibility.)

“You’re early,” Dr. Snyder’s assistant tells him when he opens the door to the practice. “She’s still in session with her 3 o’clock, and then it’s her 4 o’clock.”

“It is 4:45.”

“I know,” she replies, rolling her eyes at him over the rim of her glasses. “Hence my comment on how you’re going to have to wait. Or,” she adds, the hint of a smirk appearing on her lips, “you could go with Dr. Delmonico?”

“No!” Kurt exclaims, walking backward to the waiting room. “No. I’m fine waiting. I have, uh, lots of things to do on my phone. Thanks but no thanks.”

Beatrix snickers, returning her attention to her screen and keyboard. “Thought so.”

Kurt slides into the waiting room, briefly nodding to the people waiting there—he wonders who is Dr. Snyder’s other patient, if only because then he could deduce who are the unfortunate souls getting treated by Dr. Delmonico.

(He had exactly one session with the petite, blonde woman before making the executive decision that, out of the two of them, she was the one in need of mental help.)

There is one guy doodling in a notebook, sitting quietly in a corner with earphones on, who catches Kurt’s attention.

He’s cute, his navy and red wool jacket opened nonchalantly, with his hair gelled away from his face in classy waves.

Really cute. Handsome even.

The way he doodles makes Kurt think of his soulmate, and he pushes his sleeves up to look at today’s flowers once again.

Since it’s the end of the day, the drawing has faded to a blurry watercolor, but the flowers are still there, making Kurt smile before he pulls his phone from his pocket and starts scrolling.

Some noises come from the corner of the room, but Kurt doesn’t look up.

And then his wrist tingles.

---

Blaine knows how to occupy himself while he waits for Dr. Snyder to catch up with her schedule.

If anything, her waiting room is as good a place as any to do some people-watching and take inspiration from the waiting patients’ clothes and attitudes to sketch a bit.

An exclamation from behind the door makes him look up, but he aims to return to his drawing when the door opens and closes on a young man.

He’s gorgeous, and he has such poise that Blaine already flicks to a new page to steal glances at him and capture his attitude.

The man took off his jacket and he quickly rolls up his sleeves, smiling down at his forearm before taking his phone.

Now hold on a minute.

Blaine knows those colors and shapes.

He knows them intimately, since he drew them this very morning as a present for his soulmate.

Could it be?

Could Fate have brought them together in this waiting room, on the very day when Blaine wondered whether he was going to ask his soulmate to meet?

The pencil in his hand doesn’t mark his skin, and he scrambles to find a proper pen in his pockets—he manages to find a red sharpie he had completely forgotten about.

Blaine proceeds to write in block letters on the back of his right hand.

“THERE YOU ARE”

And looks up to see his soulmate’s reaction.

---

The block letters appear on Kurt’s hand and it takes him far longer than he’s willing to admit to completely process those words.

“There you are”, what does that even mean? Not to mention, it’s slightly threatening, too.

“There you are”?

Kurt looks up with a frown.

His eyes land on the Cutie in navy and red, who smiles at him with a wave, a red sharpie in his fingers.

Oh.

Kurt needs to be sure, though, before making a fool of himself.

So he picks up his pen and writes “There I am” under the red statement, and quickly looks up.

Cutie looks down at his hand, and the softness of his smile alone could melt Kurt’s heart.

Kurt wastes no time in picking up his coat and moving seats to be next to, well, his soulmate. “Hi.”

“Hi,” Cutie replies. “I’m Blaine.”

“Kurt.”

They look into each other’s eyes for a moment that could last between a couple of seconds to the rest of eternity, before looking away with a blush on both their faces.

“This is…”

Kurt lets out a nervous chuckle. “Unexpected?”

Blaine looks at him sideways. “That’s one way of putting it.”

“I have a great way with words.”

“I don’t doubt it,” Blaine replies. “I have seen it first hand.” He wiggles his left hand, covered in Kurt’s handwriting.

“Oh my God,” Kurt says, taking Blaine’s hand without thinking to look at his notes and scribbles, barely legible. There, right under Blaine’s knuckles, is the note about today’s appointment.

Blaine’s fingers close around Kurt’s hand. “I could get used to this,” he says softly.

Kurt’s heart rushes in his chest, and he would have probably done something stupid if Dr. Snyder hadn’t just appeared in the doorframe.

“Mr. Anderson?” she calls softly, getting Blaine’s attention.

“Oh. Right.” Blaine looks back at Kurt. “This is me,” he says, and Kurt doesn’t know what to do with himself now that his hand doesn’t have Blaine’s warmth anymore. “But I could wait for you at the coffee shop downstairs?”

And just like that, the warmth is back without them even touching. “I—I’d love that.”

“See you then,” Blaine says, his smile returning as he stands up and follows the doctor into her office.

Kurt is left stunned, fingers brushing Blaine’s words.

It may be Valentine’s Day, but he didn’t think his day would turn out like this.

---

Blaine is restless as he waits for Kurt to open the door.

How is it possible that today, of all days, he met his soulmate?

In his therapist’s waiting room?

Just the thought of Kurt makes Blaine grin at his now almost empty cup.

He’s giddy and nervous and elated and, and…

And speechless with happiness.

Hence his inability to stop himself from beaming at Kurt when he opens the door and crosses the coffee shop to get to their table.

There is something very attractive in that walk—there is something very attractive about Kurt, period, but that walk, determined and assertive, does something for Blaine, making him sit straighter.

“Hi.”

“Hi.”

Kurt sits down, hands on the table and twitching every now and then, as if he forces himself to keep them in their spot.

Blaine slides one hand on the table, closer to Kurt, and his soulmate immediately latches on, closing his fingers around Blaine’s.

There is an immediate relief in the line of his shoulders, Kurt visibly relaxing at the touch.

“I wasn’t ready for us to meet,” Kurt starts, “but when you left, I found out I wasn’t ready to let you go.”

Blaine can feel his face heating up but he shares Kurt’s sentiment wholeheartedly. “If the doctor hadn’t interrupted us, I don’t think I would have been able to say goodbye to you.”

Kurt sighs happily. “Now what?”

“Now we take it slow?”

Kurt nods. 

“Let’s start with the basics,” Blaine continues. “I’m Blaine Anderson, coffee addict and living in New York for the past two years.”

“Kurt Hummel, coffee addict as well��but I hate the taste of coffee, go figure—living in New York for the past three years.”

“Originally from Westerville, Ohio.”

Kurt quirks one eyebrow. “From Lima, Ohio.”

“Oh.”

“Hi-ho.”

The poor pun makes Blaine snort nonetheless.

“A pun aficionado, then,” Kurt comments, voice as soft as the skin against Blaine’s.

“A puncionado, yes.”

Kurt rolls his eyes, but his smile keeps his fondness.

“Come on, Kurt, your turn to confess a terrible yet endearing trait.”

Kurt looks down at their joined hands. “I am terrified of being tardy.”

Blaine nods, squeezing Kurt’s hand. “I promise to never be late to our meetings.”

“Duly noted.”

---

For the next three hours—until the baristas tell them gently but firmly that they have to leave now, please—they talk and really get to know each other.

The more Kurt learns about Blaine, the less he wants to let him go.

There is more than his gorgeous face and his gentlemanly manners; he’s a generous, artistic soul, and Kurt feels like if they are together, they can move anything standing in their way.

As they stand outside, Blaine frets and hesitates. Kurt comes closer, sliding his arm in the crook of Blaine’s elbow.

Blaine looks at the gesture and under Kurt’s fingertips, relaxing into their position. “Can I interest you in breakfast for dinner?” he offers.

“Odd proposition, but sure.”

“It’s just that there is this diner, next to my place, that serves breakfast food 24/7, and—”

“I know it,” Kurt interrupts before he can stop himself, “since it’s really close to my place.”

“No way.”

“I’m on Lynden and Cypress.”

Blaine’s eyes widen. “Menahan and Wickoff!”

Kurt squeezes Blaine’s arm as they start walking toward the subway. “The Fates really wanted us to meet, huh?”

Blaine covers Kurt’s hand with his free one. “I can’t say that I mind.”

It may be the 21st century, but Kurt properly swoons at that. “You flirt.”

Blaine chuckles. “Just stating the truth, Kurt.”

“I didn’t say I wanted you to stop, either.”

“Second promise, then,” Blaine says as they reach the station. Kurt starts climbing the stairs, but Blaine holds him back, staying one step away. “I promise to always tell you the truths that make your eyes shine like they do right now.”

“And the other truths? The less comfortable ones?”

Blaine tilts his head to the side. “I’ll write them down in hidden places.”

Kurt can’t resist then, stepping down to press a small kiss to Blaine’s lips. “Tell them to me too,” he says, wrapping his arms around Blaine’s neck and pressing their cheeks together, “and keep the written notes to love ones.”

“I promise,” Blaine whispers, before capturing Kurt’s lips in a deeper kiss.