#wistful and hopeless romantic

[gomlet]

cute guy almost my height with a gold chain shining in the streetlights who nearly plowed into me, full force, like a car a train or some other vehicle of crushes marooned on the sidewalk. u swept yourself aside at the last moment without even looking up from the music video you was watching, which i heard one bassy second of before it was swallowed again by the 1 AM rain. i remember i politely nodded to disguise that i was staring at your plastic bag of something soaked fully through with rainwater and darkness. Do you even know I would give the world for you?

[m4rv3l-girl]

Courting in Bloom

Bucky x Y/N

Bucky is a 40s gentleman, through and through…

Warnings: Heart melting fluff!

The vase of fresh daisies on the windowsill.

It had been refilled just yesterday, another token of affection from Bucky. Your eyes lingered on the delicate petals, still glistening with dew, and you couldn’t help but smile. Since you and Bucky had started dating, flowers had become a staple in your life.

They came in all shapes, colors, and meanings—roses, daisies, tulips, even the occasional bunch of wildflowers. And each time, Bucky would hand them to you with the gentlest smile, sometimes with a shy shrug, as if the gesture didn’t make your heart flip every single time.

It was charming, old-fashioned, and so quintessentially him.

Today’s delivery was a bouquet of peach and pink roses, wrapped in soft brown paper with a ribbon tied at the base. He had arrived at your door late last night, his metal hand carefully holding the bouquet, his human hand tucked into his jacket pocket.

“Did you know these mean ‘gratitude and admiration’?” he had recited, voice soft but proud.

And, of course, your heart had melted on the spot.

🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹

The next day, you were still admiring the roses when the doorbell rang. Padding across the room in your socks, you opened the door to find Bucky standing there, looking every bit the gentleman in a navy sweater and his favorite leather jacket.

“Morning, Doll,” he greeted, his deep blue eyes lighting up as they met yours. In his hand was another bouquet—this time, a mix of daisies and baby’s breath.

“Bucky,” you laughed, stepping aside to let him in. “Another one? At this rate, I’m going to need more vases.”

His grin was boyish as he leaned down to press a kiss to your temple. “Can’t help it, Kitten. You deserve the world, and flowers are just the start.”

The day passed in a cozy rhythm. Bucky had insisted on taking you out for lunch at the little diner down the street, the one that reminded him of home. He told you stories from the ’40s as you shared a milkshake, his face lighting up with nostalgia.

“Back then,” he said, swirling his straw in the glass, “courting was serious business. You didn’t just date—you courted. There were flowers, dances, handwritten letters…” He trailed off, a wistful smile tugging at his lips.

“You’re a hopeless romantic, aren’t you?” you teased, though your voice was fond.

He shrugged, feigning nonchalance. “Maybe. But if it means making my best girl happy, I’ll take it.”

You raised an eyebrow, resting your chin on your palm as you leaned over the diner table. “Oh yeah? So what else does ‘courting’ entail, Sergeant Barnes? Should I be expecting serenades under my window or maybe a sonnet or two?”

Bucky’s grin widened, and he let out a soft laugh, the sound so warm and genuine it felt like a blanket wrapping around you. “Well, if I could sing worth a damn, I’d be out there with a guitar right now. But poetry…” He leaned back, rubbing his jaw thoughtfully. “You just might get that. Don’t think I’ve forgotten the Shakespeare book you left on your coffee table last week. I’ve been doing my homework.”

“You’ve been reading Shakespeare?” you asked, incredulous but undeniably charmed.

“Of course,” he replied, smirking. “A guy’s gotta keep up with his girl’s tastes. ‘Shall I compare thee to a summer’s day?’” He paused for dramatic effect, the smirk shifting into something softer as his gaze locked on yours. “Nah, doesn’t do you justice. You’re more of a spring morning—warm, soft, and full of life.”

The compliment hit you straight in the chest, and you felt your cheeks heat as you reached for your water glass, trying to hide your flustered smile. “You’re ridiculous,” you murmured, though the warmth in your voice betrayed how much his words had affected you.

“Maybe,” he admitted, still watching you with that fond, unwavering gaze. “But if ridiculous makes you blush like that, Doll, I’ll stick with it.”

You shook your head, biting back a grin. “Okay, Mr. Shakespeare. What else did courting in your day involve? Or are we talking purely sonnets and flowers?”

Bucky hummed, pretending to consider it as he traced patterns on the table with his metal hand. “Let’s see… There were dinners like this one, walks through the park, maybe a movie if we were feeling modern. But it wasn’t just about the gestures. It was about intention. Showing the person you cared, not just saying it.”

Your heart softened at his words, and you reached across the table, your fingers brushing over his. “You’re doing a pretty good job of that, you know.”

His eyes lifted to meet yours, and for a moment, the bustling diner seemed to fade away. The way he looked at you—like you were the only person in the world—made your chest tighten in the best way.

“Well,” he said, his voice dropping to a quiet, almost vulnerable tone, “I meant it when I said you deserve the world. I may not be able to give you that, but I can try my damnedest to make you feel like you have it.”

You squeezed his hand, unable to suppress the smile breaking across your face. “You do, Bucky. Every single day.”

🌷🌷🌷🌷🌷🌷🌷🌷🌷🌷🌷🌷🌷🌷🌷🌷🌷🌷🌷🌷🌷🌷🌷

By the time you got back to your apartment, the sun was setting, painting the sky in hues of orange and pink. Bucky had another surprise in store—he’d planned a quiet evening in, complete with a homemade dinner.

You sat on the couch, watching as he moved around the kitchen with surprising ease. He was focused, brows furrowed as he chopped vegetables with precision.

“You know,” you said, breaking the silence, “you don’t have to go to all this trouble for me.”

He glanced over his shoulder, a soft smile playing on his lips. “It’s not trouble, Darling. It’s… what’s the word? A privilege.”

You were leaning your elbow on the counter as you watched him chop the carrots with a surprising precision that would’ve made a professional chef jealous. “A privilege, huh? You really are something else, Barnes. Most guys these days just show up with takeout and call it a night.”

He paused, setting the knife down as he turned to face you, resting his hip against the counter. “Well, I’m not most guys, am I, Doll?” His smile was soft, but there was an unmistakable sincerity in his tone. “I grew up in a time when showing someone you cared meant more than just saying it. Actions speak louder than words. I guess… I like knowing you can see it.”

Your chest tightened at his words, and you couldn’t stop yourself from stepping closer. You reached up, brushing a lock of dark hair back from his forehead. “You know I see it, right? You don’t have to bring me flowers every day or make dinner to prove anything to me. You’ve already got me, Bucky. Completely.”

His gaze softened even further, if that were possible, and his hands found your waist, warm and steady. “I know,” he murmured, his voice low and tender. “But it’s not about proving anything. It’s about reminding you, every chance I get, how much you mean to me. After everything, I don’t take things like this for granted. I don’t take you for granted.”

Your throat tightened, and you felt the familiar sting of tears threatening to spill. “You’re going to make me cry,” you said, laughing softly as you blinked them away.

Bucky smiled, leaning down to press a kiss to your forehead. “Not my intention, Kitten. But if those are happy tears, I’ll take it.”

You wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him into a hug, and he held you close, his metal arm cool against your back and his human hand warm against your side. The steady beat of his heart under your cheek felt like home.

“Have I told you lately how much I love you?” you whispered, voice muffled against his chest.

“Not since this morning,” he teased, his tone light. Then, softer, “But it’s always nice to hear. I love you too, Darling. More than you’ll ever know.”

You pulled back, tilting your head to look up at him, and he leaned down to kiss you—slow and sweet, like he had all the time in the world. By the time you pulled away, the carrots on the cutting board had been forgotten, and the smell of something slightly overcooking on the stovetop broke the moment.

“Oh no,” you said, laughing as you turned toward the stove. “Your romantic dinner might be in jeopardy.”

Bucky chuckled, his hands still resting lightly on your waist. “Eh, it’s just the carrots. You’re worth a little burnt dinner, Kitten.”

“Careful, Barnes,” you shot back playfully, grabbing a spoon to stir the pot. “Keep talking like that, and I might start expecting burnt meals on the regular.”

“I’ll try to pace myself,” he replied, grinning as he grabbed the knife again. “But don’t say I didn’t warn you. I’m not exactly a five-star chef.”

“Lucky for you,” you said, glancing over your shoulder to flash him a smile, “I don’t need fancy. I just need you.”

And with that, the two of you fell into an easy rhythm again—him chopping, you stirring, laughter and light banter filling the kitchen. It was simple, domestic, and perfect in a way that felt almost too good to be true.

The evening ended with the two of you curled up on the couch, the remnants of dinner forgotten on the coffee table. Bucky had one arm wrapped around your shoulders, the other holding a small book he’d found on your shelf.

“Do you ever get tired of being so perfect?” you murmured, your voice laced with drowsiness.

He chuckled, pressing a kiss to your hair. “Perfect? Nah, Doll. Just lucky to have you.”

You tilted your head to look up at him, your heart swelling with affection. “I think I’m the lucky one.”

🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸

The next morning, you woke to find another bouquet on your bedside table—a mix of sunflowers and daisies, with a little card tucked inside.

To my Darling Y/N, it read. Here’s to another day of making you smile.

And, of course, you did…

——————————————————————————————————

Hope you guys like this sickly sweet one (It was fun to write!) Make sure to leave a comment, or even a request if you liked it! 🫶

Requests Open!

[sunlighthroughthe-ashes]

langston hughes once wrote, in the poem 'harlem'— "what happens to a dream deferred? / does it dry up like a raisin in the sun? or fester like a sore, and then run? /"

this episode is all about dreams — seok-ryu's dreams, unrealized and unthought of. seung-hyo's dreams — given up on, and formed anew. how, from past to present — from dreams broken and built again: they're still at each other's side.

love next door captures with such beautiful fragility the reticent hope tinting our adult lives — crushed by the corporate grind, the endless race from job to job to stultifying job: can we truly rise above the numbness, the wasteland of our everyday, walking home on wistful feet — and blow the dust off of our dreams? touch the stained gold of our longings, still buried beneath the bone-deep weariness? do we not owe it to our younger selves, still glistening with the dew of possibility — to at least try?

what does freedom mean to you? what does the ability to dream mean to you? this is what love next door asks of its characters, and of us — with so much empathy. so much warmth.

i can't stop thinking about how seung-hyo put his hand in the pool water with such infinite gentleness — as if the current could carry him back to the past where anything was possible. the water a conduit to wonder — to youth.

water in any form is rebirth, redemption — and the fact that seok-ryu jumped into it for seung-hyo, that he held her in his arms, suspended in the pool: indicating that they will reaffirm their dreams together. rebuild them side by side.

this is what i love about k-dramas: they make the mundane sacred. they infuse so much intimacy into the most ordinary of things — and love next door is such a fine example of it. the parallels to lovely runner were so precious to me — swimmers headed to the olympics, thwarted by unforeseen circumstance — hopelessly in love with their neighbors.

while lovely runner was for the hopeless romantics, the purest of souls for whom love is as concrete as their own heartbeat — love next door is for the burnt-out gifted children, the disillusioned daughters: bitter but still carrying a burgeoning hope that something might change. that love might be lingering where it's least expected.

[yandere-daydreams]

tw - fem!reader, implied kidnapping, implied stalking.

“I used to be the best dancer in Snezhnaya.”

You hum, playing thoughtful while she guides you through a loose turn and savoring the way the skirt of your dress fans out behind you. The music is slower than you prefer, made more for conversation than exhibition, but you’ve never taken much of an interest in gossip, nor can you stand discussions on the circus that is Fontaine’s political sphere. This, the performance of it all, is all you really care about. Well, that and a chance to sample champagne fit for an archon, of course. “Used to be?”

“I was recently usurped. A tragic turn of events, I know, but it was well-deserved.” Her gloved hand falls from your side to your lower back. It’s too low to offer any real support, clearly a choice made for aesthetics over practicality, but you don’t protest. You can hold yourself up, even if your feet won’t thank you for your independence in the morning. “By a foreigner, no less – some court gem so lovely and so elegant, even the Tsaritsa couldn’t help but stare. I didn’t stand a chance.”

“That’s not exactly a description I’d expect from an envy-stricken rival.”

“I’m not jealous. I couldn’t be.” She takes an unexpected step forward and you take one back, nearly colliding with another pair too caught up with each other to mind anyone else. You purse your lips. Arlecchino – that was what she said when you asked for the name of the strange, monochromatic woman who’d spent the better half of the evening scaring your other potential partners away. A diplomat from Snezhnaya, if memory served. Hopefully, for the sake of her nation, she’s better at the negotiation table than in the ballroom. “I was the one foolish enough to bring her home with me.” There’s a slight pause, a wistful sigh, as if she’s recalling something dear to her. “We only knew each other for a few days – just a few nights, really. I could hardly bring myself to speak to her, but she was the one to approach me, in the end.”

A quick turn that became into an abrupt twirl, a tug in a direction that went against the flow of the dance floor. This time, you fail to suppress your reaction, a slight frown coming to rest across your lips as Arlecchino flashes a broad grin, nearly hauling you to a less populated corner of the dance floor. “You must be quite the hopeless romantic.”

Your voice is flat, cold, but if she notices your sudden change in demeanor, she doesn’t seem to mind, doesn’t deem the insult worth leaving you alone and partnerless in the middle of the dance (no matter how much you’re starting to wish she would). Rather, she only pulls you closer, until your chest is flush against hers, her mouth close enough to your ear for her voice to resonate in a way that makes you want to run. “More possessive than romantic, unfortunately.” Her grin is heavy in her tone. “I’ve just always preferred to keep the things I find beautiful close by.”

That’s enough. You try to wrench your hands out of hers, to shove her away from you, your reputation be damned, but her hold is iron-clad around yours, her posture unfaltering. In one smooth motion, she sweeps your legs from underneath you, leaving you falling into a deep, full-body dip – her strength the only thing separating you from the floor. You open your mouth, ready to scream, but there’s a tight pinch somewhere in your lower back, the feeling of something very small and very sharp being pushed underneath your skin, and your voice catches in your throat, your vision blurring as your body stiffens and your joints lock into place. You do what you can to stay upright, to stay conscious, but it’s a futile pursuit, punctuated by a soft laugh, a pair of smiling lips pressed gingerly against yours. “You’ll like it, in the Tsaritsa’s court,” she says, the words just barely above a whisper.

“I know how to keep my precious gems polished.”

[twstbookclub]

Slowly, Surely, Sadly

Summary: Who would've thought one smile could make you like someone? Of all people, you never expected to fall for Riddle—not after his overblot. POV: 2nd Person Pronouns: Gender-neutral Admin/Writer: Cressa🦋 Tags: Fluff, Romance, Angst, No happy ending, sorry folks, Slow Burn, Minor ADeuce Shenanigans again, Unrequited (maybe not, who knows?) Feelings, Spoilers for Book 1 if yall haven't finished it Word Count: 3, 304 This is my first time writing full-on angst. I already had this plot in mind last April, but this was my only chance to finally write it all down. I hope I did my job, and I'm sorry also not sorry for the feels. I was running on 5 hours of sleep and a hopeless romantic playlist when I wrote this. I hope yall enjoy, though 💕

Whenever you looked at Riddle, the memory of his swollen cheek and tear-brimmed eyes overlapped with his stern expression. Even with the constant lectures and helicopter parenting becoming less frequent, you could never forget his ruthless reign over Heartslabyul. His first impression was that of a tyrannical and merciless ruler, and you’d never forget that.

Yet, you could never forget how he looked like a lost child in a garden of roses when Ace punched him that day.

“Would you like to sample one of our teatime treats, Prefect?”

Riddle’s voice pulled you away from your thoughts. Your eyes darted from your teacup to the housewarden. An expectant yet patient smile curled his lips, which was a stark contrast to his natural frown. Your eyes lingered on the smile on his cherubic face.

“Sure,” you answered, somewhat in a daze. You took a sip of your tea, before your nose scrunched a little. Before Riddle noticed your grimace, you put the teacup down and dropped three sugar cubes in your drink.

You didn’t miss the amused twitch of Riddle’s lips from the corner of your eyes. This action would have earned you a reprimand and a lecture on one of hundreds of Heartslabyul’s rules. After his overblot and the incident in the rose garden, Riddle was becoming more lenient.

“You should mind your sugar intake—” Well, he’s still working on the leniency, but he’s trying— “Do you prefer a tart, a cupcake, or a cookie? Maybe you’d like to try a slice of today’s cake?”

You gave Riddle your preferred dessert, then you watched him reach over the table. Dainty, gloved fingers curled around the dish, before he brought it to you. You gave a brief nod and a mumble of thanks, before you took a bite of the treat.

“...!” You quietly moaned from the sweet taste that melted on your tongue. With a hand on your cheek, you slowly chewed to savor the sugar that graced your tastebuds. Your eyes seemed to sparkle as you dug into more of the dessert.

“It’s so good!”

You didn’t miss the satisfied smile on Riddle’s face, still cherubic and radiant. Amidst the chatter and raucous noise in this week’s Unbirthday party, you somehow heard the hint of pride in the red-haired sophomore’s words.

“Of course, that’s to be expected. Trey’s baking skills are the best in Heartslabyul—possibly in the entirety of Night Raven College.” Riddle paused, before softly adding, “I prefer his strawberry tarts, though. It’s a shame he couldn’t make any for today.”

The wistfulness in that tone of his made you pause. As Riddle took his own sip of tea, you couldn’t look away from him.

One afternoon, you marched through the silent corridors of the arcane academy. Heavy footfalls echoed in your ears, as if to mock you. The reminder of why you were wandering the halls alone made you frown.

“Where the hell are you, Grim?” You mumbled, head turning left and right, as you stomped. All the doors were closed shut, and voices could be heard through them. You doubt this area had an empty classroom at the moment.

Professor Crewel’s scowl and his whip flashed in your mind. As much as you loved Grim and his snark, you’d rather not face the wrath of the dog-loving professor. Brows furrowing, you grumbled again, “If he skips alchemy lessons again, I’m going to wring his neck and—”

“Prefect?” The gentle voice forced you to a halt, and you blinked at Heartslabyul’s warden in front of you. Riddle looked at you with a raised brow, before he crossed his arms and tapped his heel on the floor.

“It’s a pleasant surprise to see you, but…” He paused, eyes roaming your face. “You don’t seem to be in a good mood, and your class is about to start. I passed by Ace and Deuce heading towards Professor Crewel’s classroom earlier.”

Closing your eyes, you took a deep breath and sighed. You were already on good terms with the housewarden, and you’d rather not get collared for misdirecting your annoyance.

“Hi Riddle,” you greeted with a small, strained smile to be polite. “I’m actually looking for Grim. I lost him in the crowd during the lunch rush, and well…”

You tried so hard not to curse the lovable, annoying puffball. Another heavy sigh left your lips with a shake of your head. The strained smile became an apologetic one. Riddle stared at you, most likely scrutinizing something about you. Maybe he was judging you for letting Grim get away.

“I shouldn’t be keeping you here. It’s nice to see you, though—”

“Hold on,” Riddle stepped closer and reached for your tie, “your tie is crooked. Let me fix it for you.”

You held your breath, biting your tongue to stifle any surprised noises. The red-haired sophomore was too focused on fixing your tie to notice your reaction. His knuckles brushed your chest as he tightened the knot, and you tensed. He didn’t even ask for permission. He just took initiative, and it reminded you of a doting yet strict mother for some reason.

“You should be more conscious of your appearance,” Riddle reminded kindly while smoothing the creases of your uniform coat. He stepped back and seemed satisfied with his intervention. His lips stretched into a satisfied smile again, and you couldn’t look away.

“Now, off you go. Professor Crewel isn’t forgiving when it comes to tardiness.”

“R-right,” you stuttered with a faint warmth on your cheeks. You were tempted to slap yourself for losing composure like this, but you wanted to keep your dignity. Riddle would think you lost your mind if you did.

“Thanks, Riddle.”

His smile softened, yet it grew wider. The sharp and scrutinizing gaze melted into one of appreciation. Your heart skipped a beat. The air was knocked out of your lungs. Something fuzzy and warm filled your chest as you stared at Riddle. Your fingers twitched, as if longing to touch Riddle in some way.

It was ridiculous, but you didn’t dislike the feeling either.

“You’re welcome. If you’ll excuse me, I should be heading to my own class. I wish you luck, Prefect.”

He skirted around you in one, fluid motion. The click of his heels echoed in the empty corridor as you watched him go. His short figure carried a sense of dignity and pride, something that used to terrify and annoy his wards in Heartslabyul.

It used to intimidate you, but you couldn’t look away from him now. Even when Riddle turned a corner and disappeared, you couldn’t stop staring.

Ever since that day, you couldn’t stop noticing these things about Riddle. His entire face brightened, eyes glittering and cheeks flushing pink, when presented with a strawberry tart. Whenever he smiled, his gray irises seemed to hide behind the chub of his cheeks. He always looked red in the face whenever he was embarrassed, but the addition of a scowl and wide eyes showed his anger instead. His voice always raised in pitch, becoming less gentle and more crazed, whenever he became agitated and enraged. He even lost his formality and courteousness at that point: language becoming more crude yet still refined.

One day, while preparing for a game of croquet, you pointed out how happy Riddle seemed when he took care of the hedgehogs. Ace shot you a weird look. Deuce looked perplexed, lost even, when his eyes darted to you.

“Really?” He asked, looking between Riddle crouched on the ground and you who looked surprised. “He doesn’t look any different. How could you tell?”

Brows furrowed in confusion, you told them, “It’s not obvious, but he’s smiling. See? His eyes look brighter when he looked at the hedgehogs, too. Oh, and there’s the fact that he gently pets their heads with a finger. He’s avoiding touching their quills, and he’s trying not to agitate the tiny things.”

There was a long, uneasy stretch of silence that followed your answer. After a moment, Ace’s stunned look shifted into a mischievous grin. Deuce mirrored his expression, and it reminded you of that one time he lost his composure and beat up a pair of upperclassmen.

“Huh, really?” There was an intrigued and knowing tone in the redhead’s voice. Meanwhile, Deuce turned to look at Riddle as if to verify your observation. Although, the ravenette was still grinning, as if he knew something you didn’t.

In that moment, you realized you were screwed—so, so screwed.

Upon seeing your confusion warp into a crestfallen and horrified realization, Deuce clapped a hand on your shoulder with a snicker.

“Looks like the Prefect has a crush,” he teased, but you wanted none of it. Ace followed with an incredulous yet amused, “Really? Housewarden Riddle? Strict and overbearing Housewarden Riddle? Oh, your standards are buried six feet under, Prefect.”

A hand smacked Deuce’s own off your person, and you began to stumble over your words. Both lovable yet annoying idiots laughed it off, while you half-heartedly threatened them with a raised fist.

“Shut up, or I swear to the Seven—!”

Ace and Deuce laughed louder, nearly howling and sniggering in delight. As they clutched their stomachs and you grabbed the collars of their uniforms, Riddle’s confused and curious stare was left unnoticed.

Riddle continued to invite you to their weekly Unbirthday parties as an honorary guest. He still offered you desserts with little to no comment on your sweet tooth. He still fussed over your appearance whenever you two passed each other in the halls. He always gave you a subtle smile, despite his stern demeanor. The more you spent time around the housewarden, the more dread weighed in your stomach.

You couldn’t ignore the flutters of your heart, how it flipped and did cartwheels whenever Riddle treated you kindly. No matter what he did, you always felt like you were floating and walking on clouds.

You still longed to touch him—maybe brush back a stray strand that fell over his forehead. You wanted to know how it felt to hold his hand. Maybe even take a stroll in Heartslabyul’s rose maze with him, hand-in-hand and talking about anything. You wanted to spend teatime alone with him. You wanted to see him smile after taking a bite of a strawberry tart you made for him. You wanted to gaze at the moon and the stars with him in the comfort of Riddle’s dorm room, just sitting together in that window alcove with pillows and blankets.

You wanted to do so much more with Riddle, but the large mirror before you spelled the end of your hopes and dreams.

“Well, Prefect,” Crowley began with a jovial tone, which was a stark contrast to the despair that gripped your heart, “I found a way for you to return to your world. After long, grueling hours of searching for the solution, I fulfilled my promise to you, and I even gathered your friends here for a heartfelt farewell.”

You called bullshit on that, but you still appreciated Crowley’s effort. True to his word, all of the people you befriended surrounded you in the Mirror Chamber. The occasion was treated as a formal one, if their dorm uniforms didn’t make a statement already. Everyone had varying degrees of restrained emotion, as you stood before the mirror that led to your home dimension.

Grim stood behind you with clenched paws and glassy eyes. You spotted Ace and Deuce grinning, but there was a hint of a strain in their smiles. Kalim was close to bursting into tears. Leona stared at you with a neutral look and a hand on his hip, but the harsh dig of his fingers told you otherwise. Azul wore his usual smile, one reserved for business, and Jade had a polite smile as well. Floyd didn’t share the same sentiment. The more capricious Leech brother scowled as if he ate Lilia’s cooking after being promised a tasty meal.

You didn’t dare look at Riddle. You couldn’t. You wouldn’t. You can’t.

Crowley spread his arms with a self-satisfied smile that both irked and endeared you to him. “Aren’t I a magnanimous and gracious headmaster to do something like this for you?”

He made a show of spinning on his heel and walking towards the doors to the Mirror Chamber. With a flamboyant wave of his hand, he exclaimed, “I’ll leave you to say your goodbyes and well-wishes. However…”

Crowley looked at you from over his shoulder, and your throat tightened at the soft smile that curled his lips.

“It was a pleasure to have you here, Prefect. I would’ve loved for you to stay until graduation, but alas. I wish you all the best once you return home.”

The last thing you saw was a swish of his cape, before a heavy weight nearly toppled you to the ground. Tan, bejeweled arms hugged your waist as a loud bawl harshly rang in the room. You didn’t even need to look to see that it was Kalim blubbering through his tears. Jamil’s alarmed voice echoed in your ears, and that seemed to be everyone’s cue to surround you.

Tearful farewells, wistful wishes, and unfulfilled promises filled the enclosed space. Grim clung to you all this time, all the while mewling and whining about how he’d lose his henchman.  Still, he was crying his eyes out. The large mirror was obscured from your sight, as if the unusual group of friends you made during your time here intended this. You couldn’t help but laugh—a bittersweet sound—as everyone tried to get a word in with you. Even Malleus came to say his goodbyes, though he seemed more reserved than usual.

Then the dreaded moment came: Riddle approached you with that same smile, the gentle and subtle one he always graced you with. Everyone who noticed the shift in mood somehow left space for you and the Heartslabyul housewarden to talk. You almost giggled when you overheard Jade scold Floyd for whining about this.

You forced your smile to widen, even if your eyes stung and your throat tightened again. Your voice cracked at the end, but that could be mistaken for holding back tears.

“Hi, Riddle,” you whispered as you felt your throat tighten more, “I guess I’m leaving before I could have another Unbirthday party with all of you. I was so excited to try the macarons, too.”

The gentle smile became forlorn, and it reminded you of that time he lamented over not having strawberry tarts in that one Unbirthday party. A twinge in your heart made your breath hitch, but you hoped Riddle wouldn’t notice.

“It’s a shame, really,” he told you with a falter in his smile. The corners of his lips hitched up, as if that never happened in the first place. “I wanted you to try some tea from the Queendom of Roses as well, but… that may never happen now.”

“Yeah,” you whispered, finding it hard to breathe. The sting in your eyes worsened. Some invisible hand squeezed your heart, as if threatening to puncture the fragile thing with its talons. You maintained your composure as much as you can.

You couldn’t help but admit, “I wish I could have more time with all of you.”

I wish I had more time with you.

“I wish I could watch the third-years graduate. I wish I could see all of us graduate here, even if I don’t have magic.” You chuckled, and you found yourself with loose lips around Riddle.

“I want to have more Unbirthday parties with everyone in Heartslabyul. I want to have lunch with everyone in Mostro Lounge. I want to watch the next interdorm Spelldrive tournament and cheer for your guys. I want to spend Christmas and welcome the New Year with everyone. I want a lot of things, but… Well, I’m going home.”

Riddle’s smile slipped, and you watched him visibly swallow with a subtle frown. Even when he wasn’t smiling, he still had a gentle look on him.

“Who knows, Prefect? Maybe there will come a time when we find a way for you to visit and vice versa.” Riddle sounded so unsure, so hesitant, in his reassurance. Still, you appreciated it.

You ignored how much your heart hurt and your jaw clenched when he said that.

“I hope so.” Chuckling, you kept your arms to yourself as you smiled at Riddle. He was becoming a blur of red, white, and gold. Warm tears already spilled down your cheeks, before you even realized what was happening.

You couldn’t see his reaction, but you raised a hand to wipe away your tears. While the heel of your palm rubbed your cheek, you mumbled, “Sorry. I just…”

A white handkerchief was offered to you, and you took it with murmured gratitude. Your eyes were drawn to the embroidered initials of Riddle’s name on the corner. The cloth felt soft on your skin, and you found some comfort in that.

“Keep it,” Riddle told you with that smile again, “so that you would remember me every time you see it.”

Your mind blanked at his words. Riddle referred to himself rather than everyone in Heartslabyul, even everyone in NRC. Heart fluttering and throat tightening, you resisted the urge to sob. Hope came as a surge of warmth and the weight of dread in your chest.

Not now. Not when I’m leaving.

With a smile, melancholic yet bright, you dabbed away the last of your tears and tucked the handkerchief into your uniform pocket. A burst of courage let you wrap your arms around Riddle in a hug with a whispered, “Thank you. I’m going to miss you—all of you.”

I’m going to miss you more.

Normally, Riddle would be flustered at the sudden gesture of affection. You expected a loud stutter and an indignant scolding, but he simply returned the hug. His face was buried in your shoulder, and you felt his arms tighten around you.

“You’re welcome.” You heard him whisper, followed by a faint sniff. Something warm and wet soaked through the coat and into your shoulder. You hugged Riddle tighter, as if to hide him from the rest of the world at that moment.

Too brief for your liking, Riddle pulled away with that same smile. His eyes appeared to be glassy, reflecting your tearful expression and wobbly grin. Your heart twinged again, and your jaw clenched.

It was that smile that damned you the moment Riddle fixed your tie for the first time.

“I’ll see you sometime soon, yeah?” You asked, laughing off your dread and despair. Riddle seemed to hesitate, as if he wanted to say something. Your heart stuttered as you watched him open his mouth with reluctance.

Something held him back. He shook his head and merely smiled at you again.

“Of course,” he murmured, eyes hiding behind his cheeks again. “I’m looking forward to seeing you again, Prefect.”

In that moment, you’d have stolen the stars from the sky if Riddle wanted to make a wish. You’d bake tarts and cakes in the Heartslabyul kitchen, even if it ended in a mess of flour, if he wanted sweets. You’d stay past curfew in his dorm room to stargaze, if he was willing to break the rules just this once. You’d shower him in kisses, hugs, and cuddles if he hesitated to spell out his desire for affection.

You’d stay in Twisted Wonderland if he asked you to.

Swallowing your heartache, you forced a smile—bright and brilliant, putting the sun to shame. Your gaze never left Riddle, while unspoken feelings laid heavy on the tip of your tongue. Reality crushed your daydreams and wishes, reduced to rubble and dust. The next words felt final and absolute.

“Goodbye, Riddle.”

What remained was the handkerchief with his stitched initials in your pocket.

[dolls-self-ships]

I decided to re-do my hazbin hotel self-insert because I just wasn’t happy with the first one, this character has gone through a lot of changes over the years but I think I’m ready to finally settle on introducing her properly as Calliope, one of the residents of and owner of the most popular beauty parlour in Cannibal Town. I’ve always loved late Victorian/turn of the century aesthetics, and when the show introduced Rosie and all her cannibals, I immediately felt like I’d love to live there. It’s way more in my element and I love drawing (and wearing) detailed and frilly antique gowns, so I just thought this fit a lot better for me.

Some info

~

Died: 1914

Age: 23

Occupation: Beauty parlour/dress shop owner (likes to be able to pretty up even the most dingy of places like Hell) , dreams of being an actress/chorus girl though

Friends/allies: Rosie (best customer, friend), Alastor (friend), Charlie (acquaintance, friend), Vaggie (acquaintance), Lucifer Morningstar (one sided crush), Angeldust (friend, she asks him for acting advice), Husk (acquaintances), Sir Pentious (hasn’t met yet), Nifty (friends), Mimzy (acquaintances)

Backstory: similar but different, still caught her husband cheating, but she was so deeply in love with him that she ate his heart after killing him in a heartbroken rage (cannibalism as a metaphor for all consuming love ayeee), afterwards when the weight of the reality of what she had done hit her, she felt so guilty and ashamed that she threw herself to the authorities, and taken aback by her distraught and tearful state, diagnosed her with female hysteria (like all “health professionals” did back then… and who am I kidding still today) and sentenced her to spend the remainder of her years in the City Asylum.

Cause of death: strangulation via one of the assylum’s staff after only 3 months of residency

Personality: (positive) Friendly, sweet, kind, dreams big, wistful, funny, hopeless romantic, organized

(negative) insecure, cries a lot, gets feelings hurt easily, perfectionist

(neutral) clumsy, wears her emotions on her sleeve (for better or worse), dramatic, type A

tag list 💕

@shiny-self-shipping @westiefromtheeast @menshusband @bat-anon @sunflawyer

[fairyhaos]

seventeen as taylor swift songs

notes: guys. guys im not even a swiftie but ive listened to sooo many of her songs for this hc that i could literally Become one now if i wanted to

[this fic's spotify playlist]

masterlist

seungcheol

wildest dreams. it's kind of an incredibly, almost painfully romantic song. it's kind of a whirlwind romance song? while it's certainly a little hopeless, there's yearning there, and there's also so much vivid, vibrant love at the same time, a kind of possession, of protectiveness even so. it's seungcheol because of the desperate, helpless love it describes, a 'i couldn't help but fall for you' vibe that is so him.

jeonghan

style. the type of pretty boy x pretty girl energy this song exudes gives me delicate, gorgeous, jeonghan vibes. it's sweet, light, but it's also playful and so romantic that it makes your heart feel so full it might burst. it's something you can scream loudly, but also something you can hold close to your heart. the song is a silvery cream colour, reminding me of jeonghan

joshua

enchanted. i mean???? enchanted is The royal, romantic, sparkling, glittering song of all time. it's gentle and gentlemanly and yearning and hopeful and wonderful and so, so joshua coded it's actually insane. it's a type of strangers to friends to lovers that crescendos into a heart-melting happy ever after that takes your breath away. it's so joshua it makes me cry.

junhui

paper rings. it's so youthful, so bubbly, so young love in the way that only junhui can be the one to embody. it's sweet like junhui's smiles, endearing like junhui's laughs, bright and lovely like the way in which junhui would love with his entire heart. paper rings is so full of brightly orange coloured love, just like junhui is.

hoshi

22. this song talks about living your life to the fullest, no matter the age, for all time, as if every day is your last. it's about finding happiness in every situation, with the person you love the most in the entire world. it's a song that feels like bright, flashing lights, like warm drinks, like soft kisses. it feels like hoshi.

wonwoo

willow. the acoustic vibes of this song feel very wonwoo. there's a sort of undying, eternal love in the lyrics, an idea of always coming back to him, of forever finding endless comfort and wonder and new experiences while loving him. there's a certain domesticity to this song, and honestly the best way to describe it really is eternal love, constant love, comfortable and thrilling and warm all at once.

woozi

jump then fall. honestly, it took me a while to find one for woozi, but then i discovered this song and it fit him perfectly. it's devastatingly soft, so gentle and caring, just like woozi is. it doesn't have any sudden realisations of love, but rather a slow, soft kind of falling in love, an innate understanding of how one feels, and that is just so, so woozi to me.

minghao

all too well. the romantic, elegant, velvet feeling to this song embodies minghao very, very well. it's almost wistful in its love, like remembering a wonderful memory, like making sure that you remember the best times of your life without any animosity, any hatred. it's of real love, of cherishing, gentle and nostalgic and minghao all the way.

mingyu

daylight. it's a little youthful, hopeful, bright, like mingyu. the song just exudes so much "happy ever after" vibes, at the end of a perfect romantic novel, and that's so mingyu. it's the epilogue song, heart filled with warm love, his smiles as sweet and gentle as the chorus of the song. it's hopeful, optimistic, beautiful.

dokyeom

cruel summer. okay first of all—the high notes?? the pretty little voice tremble thingies?? it's so pretty dokyeom voice coded. but also, apart from that, it's such a sweet sounding song, young and happy and and hopeful and devastatingly him. it's yearning and endearing at the same time, full of every emotion in the world, just like he is.

seungkwan

shake it off. it's a citrusy brightly fun song, with lilac undertones and this is gonna sound really really weird but that instantly made me think of seungkwan. it's full of positivity, of bouncing back, of not giving up and and not caring what anyone else thinks. of being the life of the party, of making other people happy, and that is the most seungkwan thing in the whole world.

vernon

we are never ever getting back together. lyrics aside, there's a lot of feel-good energy in this song which feels so vernon. honestly lots of taylor's old songs feel like they can match him a lot, because there's so much young energy, feeling a little like a boundless puppy, and i don't know. the self-assurance, the brightness, the pure pop, light feeling is something that just fits vernon.

chan

red. perhaps an unexpected one, but hear me out, this one is so, so, chan-coded, i promise you. it's like an old love, a sad, wistful love. but a wistful love of a romance that was anything but that: of a romance that had been full of the scent of leather and love and living. that's what chan is, i think. red feels very, very much like loving chan.

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reactions tags: @jeonginssa @magicaltonaru @weird-bookworm @minhui896 @turningcarat @zarara @bunnyiix @slytherinshua @haowrld @belladaises @summery-bat @newgirlygirl @moonlitskiiies @ejspencer14 @mirxzii @wonranghaeee @saythename-chess @yonabutnotyuna @youthoughtiwasfeelingyou @crackedpumpkin @wqnwoos @sunshinekyeom-sang @ocyeanicc @zozojella @thesmellofcoffeeandrain @kthstrawberryshortcake-main @kawennote09 @a-wandering-stay @icyminghao @nananacomeonnnn @valenhui @sweet-like-caramel @hansolaria @gam3bo1z @marisblogg @evasaysstuff @odxrilove @kyeomyun @chansburgah @pepperonijem @jeonride @kellesvt @butiluvu @hanniehaee @sakufilms @immabecreepin @astrozuya

[cinnamontoastcrunch-15]

Happy Valentines Day!!

I've been prepping this oneshot since the first, I'm super excited to finally share it!

Mary has had an epiphany.

It hits them on the Monday before Valentines Day, in the Great Hall. For once, the 14th is falling on a Hogsmeade Saturday, and it's wreaking havoc in the castle. People are asking each other out left right and centre, the prospect of a Hogsmeade date being much too enticing to pass up. Especially for the seventh years. Lily's already talking about who she's going on ask, and it's looking more and more like it's going to be James. Mary isn't all that bothered about Valentines Day, to be honest, but everyone else is, and they think that's quite cute.

At breakfast, everyone watches Valentine after Valentine landing in front of people, and as they watch another cross the table, they catch a glimpse of Remus' face. His eyes follow the owl with an expression that Mary can only describe as wistful. It throws them for a moment. Remus hasn't shown an interest in this sort of thing before. Still, there's absolutely no other explanation for Remus' expression.

That man is a hopeless romantic.

A hopeless romantic without a date. Yeah, that absolutely can't do. Mary can care about Valentines Day for a bit, if they need to find Remus a date. They're going to make sure Remus ends up on a date if it kills them.

They decide to float the concept later that day. The common room is practically empty, Remus and Mary the only ones with free lessons. They've been working in a comfortable silence, with Mary asking the occasional question about the homework they're both completing. It's the perfect time to ask.

"So, Valentines Day's on a Hogsmeade weekend," they say calmly, not looking up from their essay.

"Oh, yeah, I thought I'd heard that," he answers. It's a pretty obvious lie. Remus Lupin has never been a liar, that much is clear.

"Have you thought about asking anyone?" They glance up just in time to watch Remus' shoulders tense. Opening their mouth, they go to respond, but Mary is not about to let them deny anything. "Oh, you have, haven't you?" Remus' face promptly starts to flush, and a smile finds its way onto Mary's face. "Right, I'm finding you a date," they say decisively, and Remus' eyes widen, glancing up at them. He starts to speak hurriedly, but Mary's heard all that they need to hear.

"That's okay, I honestly don't-"

"Nope, it's happening," they hold up their hand as they interject. "You deserve a Valentine, Remus. I'm finding you someone."

Perfect, now they just need to find the right person.

They spend the first few days mulling over their options. Remus is more popular than he gives himself credit for. It shouldn't be difficult to find him a date.

Shouldn't be.

"How about Hestia?" They ask on Wednesday, dropping down in front of Remus. For a moment, he seems taken aback, confused. As the realisation dawns on him, his face drops. Okay, he's not impressed, then.

"Uh... for what?" James asks, confused.

"Nothing, Prongs," Remus interjects quickly, before turning back to Mary. "No, not Hestia."

"Why?" They huff. Hestia's perfect for Remus! He just shoots them a look and goes back to eating.

Okay, someone else, then.

As it turns out, Remus is picky as fuck. Mary suggests Amelia, Emma, Georgia, all in the span of two days, and gets absolutely nothing. They're honestly starting to lose hope. They mention it to Lily and Marlene on Thursday evening.

"I'm not sure who to set him up with next! Nobody seems to be right for him!" They groan, not catching that Sirius has tuned into their conversation.

"Hey, Mary?" Sirius speaks up quickly, and they turn to face him. "You're talking about Saturday, right?" They nod, and Sirius' eyes widen almost invisibly. "I didn't realise he wanted a date for Saturday."

"It's written all over his face. Have you not seen him watching the Valentines like he'd kill to be asked to Hogsmeade?"

"Yeah, I have, but I- I asked him, he said he didn't really care," Sirius says, and it looks like Mary's blown his mind.

Huh. That's interesting.

"Remus isn't just going to admit that he wants something like this," Lily steps in seamlessly. "He does, though. I managed to get that out of him."

"Oh, thank fuck," Sirius says with a sigh, a relieved smile finding its way onto his face. With that, he disappears from the common room, heading straight for the boys dorms.

Well, that's odd.

It doesn't take long to find out what it's all about, though.

They're all at breakfast the next morning when the owl arrives. Mary is playing around with a few more names, deciding between keeping trying to set Remus up with someone or just accepting defeat. Then, an owl swoops in with a single marigold flower, dropping it in front of Remus. He picks it up, stunned, but it's quickly replaced by another. Another. Before any of them know what has happened, there's a stack of flowers in front of Remus. Eyes are stuck on him and, after a moment, Remus looks up. His eyes fix on one person, sitting beside him, like he knows exactly who did this.

Sirius.

Their eyes meet, and Sirius smiles nervously.

"So... Saturday?" Is all he says, and Remus smiles back. He drops the flower and laces their fingers together, as he nods quickly. "I was worried you'd hate Valentines, and I'd look like a prat," Sirius admits with a relieved laugh, which just prompts Remus to move his free hand into Sirius' hair and connect their lips.

Oh.

Okay, that makes much more sense.

[linkedspirit-fanartfunart]

Sky and Hope and uhhhhhh love

(LOL)

"Excuuuuse Me for being a Romantic!! You don't understaaannnnnd!" Hope cried, flailing back against Sky's arms. Sky rolled his eyes as he did nothing but stand there. While Hope acted like ae was a prop to drape himself on. "She's the most amazing kick ass beautiful creature in the entirety of Hyrule! No the whole WORLD. Entirety of the timeline itself!! Not to mention the potential for her kisses. She has really nice lips. I would kiss her all day if I could."

"...Gross." Sky concluded quietly.

"You hate love!" Hope cried, flailing an arm. Sky leaned back to avoid being smacked. She covered her eyes with the back of her hand, like a stereotypical faint lady.

"I do not, I just think kissing is gross."

"NOOo think about the intimacy! The narrowed focus of who is right in front of you. The trust in closing your eyes! The softness!" She shifted to shake Sky by the shoulders. "The softness!!"

"The slimey saliva, the germs, the bad breath," Sky listed in return, nose curling.

"...None of that is noticeable when you're kissing the person you love." Hope dismissed with a wave of his hand. Not that they had actually done that, but Sky had no reason to know that. "Come on! What's a better way to show your love, hm?"

Sky raised an eyebrow, "How about doing things for her? Like. Helping do the chores? Making gifts? Normal, actually useful things?"

"It's not the same! You're hopeless!" Hope complained, finally properly standing in order to cross his arms and scoff about the whole thing. Sky took a step back so he couldn't become a prop so easily again.

"You're the hopeless one."

"HA! Hope is my NAME!" He announced with a grin, hands on his hips.

"Your name is Link," Sky shot back with a grin.

"I can call myself whatever I want."

"Okay loverboy."

Hope sighed in such a painfully wistful way Sky could practically hear the internal monolog about wanting to be the Princess's loverboy. Ae started to wonder if Groose somehow taught her how to do that. They seemed far too similarly punchable to ignore the possibility.

Sky sighed, damn Groose and character development. Before befriending Groose, he wouldn't be saying this. "She is lucky to have your love, even if it stays friendship," Sky acquessed, "She clearly likes you for whatever reason, too."

Hope perked up like a Remlit being given treats. Their face broke into a grin, "You're saying I DO have a chance! You, Mr Yucker of Romance, of all people think I have a chance!"

"I hate you."

"I love you too!" Hope announced. She pecked Sky's cheek with a kiss and ran before his fist could hit her gut.

[summercreolefanfictioner]

would you like to find out pt. 2 (diabolik lovers modern college au)

pairing: ayato sakamaki x yui komori (feat. kanato and laito)

summary: everything started with a reckless, "I wanna know how it feels like to date."

themes: mostly humor with mentions of nsfw

note: part 1 here

Ayato absentmindedly playing and picking on his food was a rare sight, and it irritated Kanato as it ruins his appetite first thing in the morning. He had been doing it since the whole blonde-dream-girl-he-met-at-a-party-run-off-from-him-the-next-day-after-they-had-sex fiasco. Of course, he endured his brothers teasing him to no end, saying how he got dumped for the first time after a one-night stand (because it was rare; like hello, Ayato Sakamaki, the IT boy of Ryoutei University, the infamous college basketball champion.) It wasn't until the jokes don't sound funny anymore and Ayato wasn't eating takoyaki that Kanato and Laito believed this girl must be some serious shit.

And Kanato, being the prick he is, decided to stab his bacon and eggs so loudly in the morning, uncaring if Laito was staring between his older brothers awkwardly. While the concern was there, Kanato can't help but get irritated at Ayato's constant wistful and hopeless romantic longing.

Ugh. Love and all the neuro-shit.

"U-Umm..." Laito started, feeling Kanato's patience slip away, "Ayato-kun, aren't you going to eat-"

"Let him starve himself over some girl who dumped him," Kanato cut in, the stabbing motions not ceasing anytime soon. How dare he anger him? If that's what he wants, then that's what he'll get.

But Ayato was stubborn. Laito gulped nervously at that.

Oh, no.

Kanato slammed his fists on the table. "Okay, what do you want? Just say anything because I am getting sick and tired of your endless moping."

Ayato sighed again, stopping from his usual ministrations. "You can't help me. You don't know her."

Kanato huffed. "Bullshit. We already saw her leave the day after, remember."

"But you don't know where to find her," Ayato countered to which Laito found himself agreeing with.

To be fair, they don't know anything about this mysterious Yui Komori girl. But if they were to have first impression guesses, the girl seemed the honest yet clueless type. She also has the good girl type, the obedient one who always follows her parents' bidding because she is good like that.

However, the girl attended the party in their house and spent that one night with Ayato. That new information doesn't match their impression. Nonetheless, this Yui Komori can quite be a breath of fresh air. After all, this would be the first time Ayato flirted with a girl from the university since all his exes came from different schools.

"So this Bitch-chan has the curiosity of a cat, after all," Laito mused teasingly. "Not a goody two shoes, I see."

"I've asked random people from my course if they know someone called Yui Komori, but they don't seem to recognize one," Ayato said bitterly.

"Hmm... Ayato-kun, what if she's not really studying in Ryoutei University?"

"Nah, that's impossible." The redhead frowned. There's no way Yui would lie to him about studying in Ryoutei. Besides, the only ones invited to their party were people from the university.

"Well, I guess we could just help you look for this Yui Komori," Laito offered with a beaming smile because if this is what it takes for Ayato to stop his endless sighing over hopeless longings, then so be it. Then he turned to Kanato, giving him the "help me out here or else I'll do something despicable to your belongings" look.

Kanato only sighed in exasperation.

What a drag.

It took four days before Laito informed Ayato something about Yui Komori. It happened one day while he was seeing this one random girl he hooked up with from the Philosophy Department. After their intense sex, she mentioned something along the lines of: "I know that girl. She never skips all the classes. But Laito-kun, she's a bit boring, though? Are you sure you're looking for the right girl?"

And another fun fact: Laito had the same class with the Komori girl at 3pm every Tuesdays.

So Ayato became Laito's substitute, sitting in an unfamiliar class with brand new faces. He looked around for any sign of pale blonde hair and flower hairpins and pink until he spotted her. She was careless and lively, giggling at something her classmates said. Afterwards, the class started, the professor making his usual roll call.

"Sakamaki Laito?"

Ayato raised his hand. "Here."

The professor didn't care, but some of the students whispered, "Eh? But that's not Laito, though. It's the Ayato one."

At the mention of his name, Yui whipped her head back and saw Ayato, sitting five rows away from her. She immediately turned away and tried to shrink from his presence.

What's he doing here?

Once classes ended, Yui quickly got out of her seat and rushed towards the door, letting the crowd of students from the hallway take her until Ayato couldn't see her anymore. Ayato sighed in defeat. It was a one-time chance, and yet he failed.

"So what now?" Laito asked, munching on his salted caramel popcorn as he watched this new movie he rented with Kanato at their living room. "You'll have to wait for Tuesday to see her again."

"I don't have time for that," Ayato countered. "My practice schedule has been moved to Tuesday next week."

Kanato buried his face into Teddy's head, hugging the stuffed bear closer. "We could ask Reiji to give us a copy of her schedule. He's doing an assistant teacher job until next month," he suggested, then he remembered, "Nah. It's a bad idea. As if Reiji would let us know someone's class schedule. He abides by the rule."

"Looks like there goes your hopes and dreams, Ayato-kun," Laito remarked in despair.

Or so they thought.

Why? Because Kanato passed by Yui Komori in the hallway on Thursday. What's more? Her class is held at room 403 from 1pm to 5pm.

He knew because he skipped one of his minor classes and see where this blonde girl will move. He even approached one of her classmates and pretended he was quite interested, making some nonsensical flirtatous remarks on her because the girl looked so easy.

"O-O-Oh that?" the poor girl tucked her hair behind her ear and shyly handed out her class schedule. "Y-You can check it; I don't mind. As long as we see each other after this."

As if Kanato will let that happen.

Ayato was chugging on one of his water bottles in the kitchen when Kanato approached him and said, "I saw your dream girl today."

The redhead stopped at that, turning all his focus on the middle triplet. "Where?"

Suddenly, Kanato whipped out his phone and typed something. Afterwards, Ayato's phone beeped and when he opened it, he received a picture of a class schedule.

"I met a girl who goes to all same classes with that Yui Komori," Kanato informed. "Make sure to use it wisely or else." Because I am so tired of you being so lovesick as hell.

"O-Oh," Ayato was glad. Finally, he could see her again. "Thanks, Kanato."

"Just buy me two pints of ice cream."

"Sure."

"I want the new biscoff one and the chocolate chip cookie."

"Yeah, yeah. Whatever."

Yui was bored. Apparently their professor for their 4-hour class this Friday afternoon was absent due to sudden cold. She sighed in her seat, contemplating where she could go since her next class would be for 6 pm onwards.

"U-Umm... Komori-san!" a female classmate called.

"Y-Yes?"

"Y-Your boyfriend's calling out for you."

"Eh? Boyfriend?"

Then she saw some of her classmates whispering to each other, glancing briefly at her before going back to their own businesses. Yui decided she should find ot who this mystery boyfriend, although there's only one person that comes to mind.

I hope he's not who I'm thinking.

"Yo, Chichinashi," Ayato greeted, the familiar smirk flashing on him. "It's been a while."

Yui blushed at the familiar nickname, the whispers behind her getting louder.

This was the start of a roller coaster story.

[drones-of-innocence]

I've always wanted to entertain a universe where Princess Peach was not familiar at all with romance.

She would go through her life being raised on political philosophy and the understanding that she would one day be responsible for the people of the Mushroom Kingdom, her teachings are very strict and single-minded in the effort to make her an effective ruler. This turns her into an incredibly driven and kind woman who is primarily concerned with her citizen's security and happiness. The fairytale land of the Mushroom Kingdom emphasized a culture of love, certainly, but it was a love for all living creatures. Romance exists, but it was not part of the mainstream of ideas.

Her interests did not include fantasy or fiction. Even when offered by her guardians and retainers, she would decline and opt instead for denser, brainier, more intensive material. The concept of romance simply never came across her horizon.

Until she gets kidnapped, and a stranger arrives to save her.

This man is strong, stronger than the King of the Darklands. Strong enough to rescue her. He is humble and sweet, and he has the most earnest blue eyes she's ever seen. He is charming without meaning to be, content with the simple things in life, and her heart appears to do a little something every time he smiles bashfully at her attempts to thank him for his heroic deeds. He has dimples in his cheeks. Mario, he is called. Thinking of his name causes a most peculiar rush in her chest. She sometimes likes to murmur it to herself when no one is around, but she couldn't say why.

"It is love," those close to her tried to explain. But she didn't understand.

She discovers her grand library's fiction section. She pores over romantic tales, particularly those regarding a princess and her knight in shining armor. Meanwhile, she observes that her face becomes quite warm when Mario is around, and that she tends to ramble or stammer nervously when she is ordinarily so clear and concise. She has not had any practice disguising such feelings. They come off as quite obvious to any onlooker.

Mario is not presumptuous, however, and though he finds himself nursing his own romantic feelings for Princess Peach, he would never dare assume someone of his station would be worthy of her. Still, many point out her obvious flustered demeanor and clear affection for him. He had already dedicated himself to many acts of service for her, but he begins to bring her small gifts as well. Interesting findings, secret tokens, tiny treasures from his journeys. Small wonders of the amazing world he'd come to love living in, and tiny, heartfelt creations.

Pressure grows from those around them who can see they clearly have feelings for each other. When the time comes, Peach sits, meekly admiring a flower he had offered her as they sit on a grassy hill under the starlight. She explains that she believes she likes him, but admits that she does not understand very much about the nature of her feelings or of romance in general. She's a little frightened; her daydreams and wistful yearning have distracted her from her duties at times, and she becomes overwhelmed in his presence. She wishes to understand it all better, but she doesn't know where to begin.

Mario, surprised and flattered by the news, puts his hand over hers and tells her that he is willing to help her explore her feelings and make better sense of them. He can teach her; he's been a hopeless romantic for as long as he could remember.

And he loves her. He's more than willing to take this journey with her.

Flirting, dates, kissing. All of these are foreign concepts to Peach and she frets that she's very far behind and that she'll do it all wrong. But Mario soothes her and tells her it all comes with time. He won't push her into anything she isn't ready for, though he does purposefully tease and gently flirt with her just to see her blush and smile. Over time, she is able to reciprocate.

He invites her out to classic dates and more unique ones. Garden strolls, picnics, or trips to find the best view of the sunset. He continues to bring her gifts, and rescues her from Bowser all without any expectations that she return the sentiment.

She learns. She finds or creates gifts, and arranges dates to surprise him. Her heart feels full whenever she sees his eyes light up with genuine surprise and awe. She learns that he quite appreciates physical touch, and makes sure to reach for him often. Touching his arm, finding any reason to hug him, and offering a modest kiss on the cheek upon being rescued. He also finds great comfort and solace in words of affirmation, reminding him that she sincerely enjoys his company and finds him to be very cute. She loves how he blushes.

One night, after a date he put a lot of work into arranging, Peach expresses her gratitude for his effort, and tells him that she thinks she would like to kiss him. Blinking, Mario finds himself endeared to her shy and slightly clumsy request. He approaches her with his familiar soft manner.

"Close your eyes," he says with that bashful smile, and she does.

He kisses her forehead. His hands gingerly rest on her face, and she lets out a shaky breath. "Is this okay?" he asks, and she nods. He kisses her temple, and then her cheek. His mustache tickles. Her entire body feels like it's buzzing.

He pauses, his thumb stroking her face, before he tilts his head to kiss her on the lips.

She melts. It's tender and sweet. All the stories she had read emphasized the importance of a first kiss, and his delicate manner was better than anything she could have imagined. He pulls away, his eyes shining under the starlight, only for her to seize his hands.

"I want you to kiss me again," she says.

He smiles, and he does.

[uh-niran-really]

SymWeaver - Roses

Content: Angst, Grief

Word Count: 780+

A/N: I found roses today and I was inspired to write this. After the day I’ve had, I needed to write something angsty.

She couldn’t stand to look at them. She couldn’t stand anything associated with them. Roses were his thing, he loved them as much as he loved her. And now he was gone. A tragic accident. He died a hero but left her behind, again. Niran always did have a habit of leaving her behind.

When she came home from the hospital that day, all she saw were the countless roses he had littered around their home. On the mantle, on the kitchen table, in their bedroom. They reminded her so much of him, gorgeous, romantic, deadly. They taunted her everywhere she went. Their garden was full of them. Pretty pinks, ruby reds, wistful whites. They were everywhere.

He loved roses most of all because there is nothing more classic and timeless than a rose. He was a hopeless romantic too, until fell for Satya. He so longed to sweep a partner off their feet, to write them love letters or to just have someone to hold. When Niran met Satya all those years ago, he didn’t think much of it, but as he grew and as they spent more time together he learnt what true love really was, gifting her with a pretty handmade rose and declaring his undying love for her.

He gifted her roses for their anniversary every year. He spread rose petals on their bed for the romance. He wore rose scented perfume. He learnt to perfect them from hard light. She was surprised his healing blossom wasn’t a rose. He loved the things.

At first they were a comfort, something nice to come home to everyday, a sweet reminder of her late husband. Sadly however, as time went on she grew to hate them. The scent disgusted her. The sight upset her. The word killed her inside. Niran had ruined her perception of them. She couldn’t take the pain anymore. She just wanted them all gone.

Slowly but surely she got rid all the roses in the house. Collecting them all one by one and tossing them out. It broke her inside, she felt as though she were ridding herself of him, and yet it brought her comfort. Each time she threw some out, she swore she would find more, cursing him each and every time. She found stray petals in their bed. A rose on the floor, that had fallen as she carried the last bunch out. A fallen petal here and there from the ones on the table. She even trimmed his rose bush, cutting every rose out of it and discarding them by the trash for some love sick teenager to find. She got rid of his candles, his perfume, his rose paintings. She got hysterical each time she saw one, crying for Niran to stop toying with her.

Their anniversary came around and roses were delivered to the house. He always ordered them in advance, they were always the prettiest things around. Striking colours, the most perfect cut, full of life. Beautiful. They always came with a note to tell her how much he loved her. How he would never stop. How she was the most beautiful woman on earth. His rose. She screamed at the sight hitting them at the wall over and over watching as the petals burst from the stems, scattering across the floor. She grew sick of it all, she couldn’t cope, kneeling on the floor screaming for him to just stop.

She missed him more and more each day, asking herself why he had to step in and rescue that child. Why he got himself killed.Why he abandoned her. The memories of the hospital plagued her mind, his blood stained face and fading smile, his voice so soft it was barely a whisper. He faded fast, his last words a declaration of love. He left her yearning for him, her sweet and romantic husband. The only man she could ever bring herself to love. The person she trusted most. She watched the light in his eyes dull, before they fluttered shut, never to open again.

Finally she had gotten rid of them all, all the roses gone except for one. One she couldn’t bring herself to rid herself of, yet it was the worst Rose of all. One that reminded her so much of Niran. One that she had helped him create. She looked at it daily with such sadness and love, yet such hatred. How could she hate this beautiful thing, Niran always treasured this one above all the others, as did she once. She couldn’t take it anymore, breaking down daily, wishing she could rid herself of it, until finally…

“Mummy.. why do you hate me?”

Their daughter, Rose. 🌹

[ivanttakethis]

Before Round 7 - Tov’s Log (Bonus Scene)

Daiki (?) vs. Tallis (?) - ??? Win

————————————————————

Cassio was a hopeless romantic.

They loved soap operas and romance novels and sappy movies that Tov found too cloyingly sweet to stomach.

They loved love.

Tov never understood it.

When she would ask Cassio: “What does romantic love feel like?” or “How do the characters know they’re in love?”

Cassio always answered, with a wistful smile on their face: “You just know.”

Tov didn’t believe that.

At least.

Until…

Until she had Tallis’s face in her hands and he was looking into her eyes and he said: “I love you too.”

His words struck something at the very core of her. Like he’d plucked a harp string too hard.

Oh.

Oh.

Tov knew now.

She knew with the same certainty that she knew suns were also stars. That humans bled red and warm. That she and all of her classmates were doomed from the moment they entered Anakt Garden.

Tov knew she was in love with Tallis.

It wasn’t a world altering realization, like in the films Cassio watched all the time.

There were no fireworks or chiming bells or fluttering hearts.

Instead, it felt like laying beside him under the warm sun in the fields of Anakt Garden.

Like not having to speak to be understood.

Like reaching out to grab a hand you know is always there.

It felt like home.

But how could she tell him all of that?

Tov wasn’t even sure she had the words to explain it properly. It was all tangled up in her chest.

Maybe she could kiss him on the forehead, like that time Tallis had gotten really sick when they were younger.

She’d been trying to comfort him.

His skin was hot to the touch. He probably couldn’t remember it at all.

Or.

Maybe.

Tov’s gaze fell to his lips.

Characters in Cassio’s shows kissed all the time. It was a common expression of romantic love.

Maybe Tallis would understand what she meant by it.

She looked back up at him, and found him doing the same.

Was he just—

Tov’s thoughts screeched to a halt at the look in Tallis’s eyes.

Sick of these nights to come

To be engulfed in silence

In your gaze, where I'm seen

Consume me, yes, me

“I love you too.”

All of her nerves settled then. The chaos in her mind quieted for the first time in days. Tov was certain.

She closed her eyes and leaned in.

Tallis met her halfway.

He always did.

Back and forth.

Push and pull.

Take a piece of me and I will keep a piece of you.

The kiss felt like home too.

It wasn’t much more than a simple press of lips together, but Tov’s stomach flipped anyway.

Tallis’s cheeks were even warmer than before.

His hand curled around her wrist, and his thumb brushed over her pulse point.

Tov’s medical band beeped in response.

She wasn’t sure which one of them pulled back first, but Tov didn’t let him go very far, still cradling his face in her hands. He still had a loose hold on her wrist. They were both still alive.

“I believe in you.” She whispered.

Tallis gave her a shaky, but genuine smile. “I know.”

Tov smiled in return, “Good.”

————————————————————

Tovallis kiss!! We won!!! (purposefully ignores what happened during Round 7)

This is a follow up to Before Round 7 and is 100% CANON!!! @lookatmysillies and I decided it would be and no one can stop us 😁

I included Cure lyrics in the log because it fits Tov and Tallis’s relationship during Alien Stage well. One of them will leave the other first, but it’s hard to come to terms with that.

Sick of these nights to come? To be engulfed in silence? In your gaze, where I'm seen?? Consume me, yes, me???

It’s all very Tovallis coded.

I actually wrote a whole post and lyrical breakdown of Cure in the context of Tov and Tallis’s relationship overall, if you want to read that.

Chronologically, End of Round 7 comes after this. Though it’s probably even more of a devastating read now knowing that Tov not only told Tallis that she loves him for the first time, but also just realized she’s in love with him. Oof.

Save me Tovallis modern AU, save me!!

[sunny-speaks]

First Kiss

Characters: Henry Morgan (@homecomingvn) x Reader

Pov: you’re just chillin’ with your good buddie Henry, your best friend. One you may have had like a tiny little crush on… You’re whining about how you haven’t had your first kiss, complaining on and on about all these hopeless guys who’ve never liked you back.(Am I indulging myself? Ofc i am) or relationships you couldn’t pursue because you had academic pressure on your back? (ok now im totally projecting)

Fic under the cut! Have a good time reading !!

You were sprawled out on Henry’s bed, whining about how post-secondary school was kicking your ass, how life was kicking your ass, a lot of things that were kicking your ass. To be fair, adulthood seemed much better in YA novels and shows compared to… ugh, reality. Honestly, why do they produce such bullshit to make it seem fun?

“Buttercup, I’m sure things’ll get better for you! Just give it some time, mhm?” Henry added on while you noticed you had grumbled that last line of thought out loud. They then turned all his attention back to his FNAF game before you let out a wistful sigh.

“At least they make it seem so… rose-tinted. What I would do to actually have a love life, I swear to God.” You combed your hands through your hair, the summer heat making you perspire more on your friend’s bedsheets as you groaned at the thought. “Dude, I can’t believe I’m this old and I still haven’t had my first kiss. God, what am I even waiting for at this point…?” You dejectedly mumbled the last part to yourself.

Henry, albeit barely noticeable, perked up at the word ‘first kiss.’ They could hear the discouragement in your voice, ears picking up on that last note. “Well, guess we’re both hopeless romantics then…” 

“I don’t know, I’ve always thought that there’d be this great guy waiting for me when I got old enough. He’d want nothing more than to be the best partner, and he’d just sing my praises. I know it’s kind of…” You flushed a little at your wording, “Self-serving. I know you care about me and all! But it’d be nice to have someone care about me romantically. Ugh, my expectations are too high, aren’t they?” You sat back up, legs dangling off the edge of the mattress, hands fiddled with in your lap.

Were you being too obvious on what you were trying to signal him? You wanted a partner, a boyfriend even, and your best friend would be so perfect and you really wanted him to at least reject you and give you closure rather than drag this out. But if things turned out positively? Well, that’d just be a cherry on top.

He totally wasn’t your first friend and first love. Totally not the only one who you would never outwardly confess to without prompting. Totally not the one that you’ve loved since childhood.Totally not the one who made all your past loves pale in comparison. Totally not th―! You were getting distracted.

“Yeah, don’t think anyone would wanna kiss me…” You muttered to yourself under your breath.

Henry quickly paused his game. He wanted nothing more than to jump out of his seat and say ‘I want to be the best partner! I want to sing your praises! I care about you romantically! If I’m not good enough, you can do anything to fix me! I’ll be whatever you want me to! I’d make sure no one could ever hurt you again! If they did, I’d make them pay suffer rethink their decisions!’ But that would come off a little too desperate. He’s waited years for you.

It wouldn’t kill to wait a little longer.

Well, if only he knew how much you liked him. He was a little… dense when it came to others trying to court him, after all, he never thought that he’d be the object of someone else’s affections. Henry hummed out their reply after some thought, trying to subconsciously hint that there’s someone out there who’d love to be your partner. Even if he didn’t outwardly say it was himself. “I don’t think they’re too high. Maybe there is someone out there perfect for you. Besides, who wouldn’t want to kiss you?”

You sarcastically chuckled with no malice behind it, “Maybe all the people I’ve liked in the past?”

He opened his mouth, sputtering rebuttals, “Well that’s because they were clearly all blind! They just have no taste! You know what?” He gets out of his chair and stands in front of you, pointing an accusing finger at your window.

“What?” You raised an amused and curious eyebrow at his mild aggression to your past crushes. 

Still gesturing to the window, he referred to your past admirations. “Clearly, they’re just dumb, because I would totally kiss you! And I would enjoy it!” He puffs out his chest in some sort of… pride at his words before realizing what he said. “Uh.” After a single noise from him, his face almost erupts into a bright red. “I- wow, um. I- Yeah, uh…”

As he struggled to mentally compute what he had just said to you, to your face, (oh my god he was going to die from rejection or embarrassment or even both, ahhh―) and how you were gonna react, you were in our own world.

Everything going through your brain was a disorganized chaos alarm that had only one cohesive thought.

Which was to shut up his mumbling by kissing him.

And so, that’s what you did. No fear, no hesitation, no consequences. You snaked your hand up to the back of his neck, feeling a couple of goosebumps. You gave him chances to pull away as you drew your heads closer together. Your fingers entwined themselves into strands of his golden hair, nails gently raking his scalp.

Fuck, you left him breathless. You looked up at him through your eyelashes and he swore his heart stopped for that solid second. The question ‘Is this okay?’ was left unsaid, but not unheard when he gave you a shaky whine in response, “Please, yes…” was muttered from the pretty lips of his. Pretty lips that you were about to kiss.

It was inexperienced and a little awkward at first, teeth clacking against each other awkwardly as you both got a feel for what you were trying to do. It was chaste as you pulled away rather quickly to see a very flushed Henry begin to open his eyes that were closed to soak up all the pleasure before you went back in for another, his eyes fluttering wide in surprise.

“Hhn—?” You pulled on his scalp a little, tilting your head to the side so you could slot your mouths together a bit more easily. He jolted a little before slowly hovering his arms around your waist before deciding to settle them there. He keened and pulled you closer to him until there was barely any space between the two of you.

Of course, oxygen was, unfortunately, necessary for one to survive and that need had caused you to pull away from him. The two of you stared at each other for a moment, as you drank up the sight of a dazed Henry who looked back at you with reverent eyes, clearly more than interested in continuing kissing you.

You soaked up all the attention before gently booping him on the nose, “You enjoy that enough?” You gave him a small teasing grin, regardless of your internal panic over how that was your first kiss, with the first guy you’d been friends with, with the first guy you ever really loved like that. God, maybe YA shows weren’t bullshit?

He stammered, light puffs of air passed through his mouth as his eyes darted everywhere except towards yours.

You weren’t that bad at kissing… you hoped. “Was I so good at kissing you that I took your breath away?” You instantly cringed at your words as they slipped out of your mouth. Why did that seem so cheesy?

After a moment of silence, he quietly mumbled, “...yeah.”

You could feel heat rise to your face at his reply. He was too adorable to not tease and he was too honest for his own good. 

“... That was my first kiss too.” He quietly admitted. If it was to you or to himself, neither of you knew. “I’d been saving it for you, buttercup.”

Your heart leaped in your chest at the implications of his statement, hope filling your eyes. “Well, there’s no easy way to say this. Henry, I’ve liked you for years now. It was on and off, if I’m being honest. But you’ve always been the one constant in my life, you’ve always been there for me, supported me. Henry, I really, really, really do like you. I, uh—” You paused, it was so much harder to confess after you had kissed, because it was usually the other way around first. “Will you date me?”

He held a shaky hand to his mouth to barely hide the biggest grin on his face before exclaiming in elation, “Of course, buttercup, a thousand times yes.” He gently began peppering your face with soft, chaste kisses. The temples of your face, the crown of your forehead, the corners of your eyes, the tip of your nose before planting a soft gentle one on your lips.

He picked you up and sat laid on the bed, before getting you to lie beside him as he draped his arms over your shoulder and pulled you in closer. He snuck his head into the crook of your neck and let that guide him to sleep.

“D’you mind if we take a nap, love?”

“Geez, already pulling out the ‘L word,’ Henry? You move quick!” He could feel your laughs reverberate through your chest as you looped your hands around his waist. “Of course we can take a nap. All that excitement tired me out for sure…”

He looked over your shoulder, pulling your warmth closer to him, to see a picture frame with a photo of the two of you.

He had been patient for so long. Clearly, it had paid off.

A/N: AUGH THIS TOOK ME LIKE 4 HOUrS I'M SO SORRY I MEANT THIS TO RELEASE ON JUNE 28TH BUT THEN I WROTE TOO MUCH AND COULDN'T STOP. (1.6k words i think? uGH AND THATS NOT A LOT OF WORDS BY MY STANDARDS EITHERRRR--)

Once again, go check out Henry Morgan from @homecomingvn's tumblr !! They are very cool !! Also I hope you don't mind that I tagged you, I can always remove it if you'd like?

[pagerunner-j]

Still jumping around a bit randomly through old DW episodes. Tonight I watched the double-header of The Impossible Planet and The Satan Pit. I always liked these episodes, in large part because they go for some pretty intense deep space horror, centered around a doozy of a villain this time, because what the hell (no pun intended): we've had evil mannequins and farting aliens and evil lunch ladies so far, so why not raise the stakes about as high as they'll go for some contrast and put everybody up against the actual Devil?

When this show decides to go balls to the wall, it really goddamn goes for it.

I also appreciate, really, that these episodes had the nerve to (albeit very, very carefully) touch on matters of religion and faith, because it's pretty hard not to when you're dealing with this topic. Ultimately, though, it's mostly concerned with people, both the good and the bad: equating hell with the evil men do, and coming down squarely on the side of the most powerful belief being faith in each other to do what's right instead. And of course Rose is right smack in that column. She gets the classic companion role here of bonding with the episode's guest cast and getting the best out of them at every turn she can. Meanwhile, the Doctor's solution to the biggest conflict at the end depends entirely on faith in her, which of course pays off.

And those two spend both episodes acting so blatantly in love with each other that it's r i d i c u l o u s and apparently after seventeen years my heart has still not yet recovered from this.

I mean: the mortgage conversation, and nervously stumbling over the idea of living together somewhere? The way Rose kisses his helmet? The hugs, plural? Rose's attempt at reaching him over the comms, and desperately trying to stay behind for him even while the crew's trying to drag her to safety? That wistful conversation between Ida and the Doctor as they're both preparing for probable death, he's slowly disconnecting his cables over the chasm, and he can't get out the words for what to tell Rose, except for, "Oh, she knows"? (Fourteen would say it. Fourteen would say every damn word. Ten just kept breaking our hearts about it for multiple seasons in a row.) And then there's the foreshadowing but they're in denial about it and they don't know what they're in for in four episodes' time and he won't be able to get the truth out then either and she'll cry and break everyone's hearts and he'll cry and break mine and goddammit I have a problem.

Anyway. Have I ever mentioned I'm one part exhausted cynic and one part hopeless romantic sap? Because the latter is winning out here, kids.

Footnote about something I enjoyed at the time: Shaun Parkes, one of the key guest cast members in this, also co-starred with David Tennant in Casanova on the BBC (also written by RTD). I haven't watched that in a long damn time either, but I recall it as being entertaining, which, well, I mean: it's David Tennant as Casanova. Think that one through for a second and then go find it somewhere and see for yourself. (I'm pretty sure it's kicking around the Tube that is You unofficially, but you didn't hear that from me.)

[walkingstackofbooks]

DS9 4x20 The Muse thoughts (I’m re-watching, so beware spoilers for future episodes!) [12 July ‘23]

I had no idea Jake's mind-nomming happened in the same episode as the Lwxana/Odo marriage - okay let's gooo!

"I won't let him do it, Odo." "Who? What?" I guess being telepathic, she might forget she actually has to start from the beginning of a story and explain it rather than have people pick up from what she's thinking?

This alien talks in the weirdest way. I'm glad Jake starts out uneasy, at least.

I hate when Jake picks something over spending time with his dad. Like, it checks out, he *is* a teenager, but Sisko's always so disappointed 😭

"What do you want me to do about it?" "Either cheer her up or get her to leave." Love how Quark thinks Odo could cheer her up rather than just be security getting her to leave.

Oh!! At Quark's request Odo does go and give up his routine and free time to make her happier :3 I do love these two.

Odo's war with himself over being unpleasant to ward her off from his quarters but also not wanting to. :3

"Major Kira and First Minister Shakaar are involved now." "How sad." "Not at all. I'm happy for her." For most of the time Odo is actually such a good bro. I don't like the framing later on that he somehow 'deserves' Kira just because he likes her, but he really is so respectful.

"Well, just don't go do what I did. Look for someone to fix your broken heart then end up pregnant and on the run." "I don't think there's too much danger of that happening." His little laugh. I am sad he and Lwxana couldn't be together.

"[I feel] Like a changeling who's had to hold his shape too long." It's sweet that she puts it in understandable terms, I think?

"Lwxana? Your replicator isn't really broken, is it?" Aww it took you that long? Call yourself a detective XD

"I'm sorry if I made you feel unwelcome." You literally did less to make her feel unwelcome than you do to any other person who comes your way though!

Oh damn I had paused this halfway through and once again forgot Jake's storyline was the other half of this episode!

Why do I feel like that pen should write in Jake's blood?

This alien is so creepy and I hate this so so soooo much

Haha! Odo laughing! I love how much they enjoy each other's time

Why not lie to Lwxana's husband, and tell him that she's not here??

IT'S ODO'S IDEA TO GET MARRIED??? I HAD THOUGHT IT WOULD BE LWAXANA! HE IS THE SWEETEST

Odo's so tender as he helps her up to the stage thing!

Miles' uncertain look at "add her to what is mine"

Quark's wistful sigh at Odo's "I didn't need anyone else."

"The truth is, I was ashamed of what I was, afraid that if people saw how truly different I was they would recoil from me." *camera pans to Julian* OH THESE TWO GIVE ME FEELINGS. They would just have the ability to relate so hard to each other! Tell me that that quote couldn't belong to Julian in DBIP.

"The day I met her is the day I stopped being alone." *Kira looks down* Oh, I wonder what she's feeling about that. Because she definitely thought they were good friends.

I am still surprised the husband doesn't fight harder. All he needs to do is doubt it. I guess some part of him really did love Lwxana?

"What can I say? I'm a hopeless romantic!" Really, Quark? Sure.

"You know, for a minute there, I really believed you wanted to marry me." Oh, he DID.

"Orange juice." Sometimes Jake does things that make me remember how young he is. (Even though I'd be ordering apple juice all the time though... But everyone else usually guess got tea or coffee or alcohol.)

At least Jake's in a public place when he collapses. Glad he didn't go back to his quarters.

"He was the youngest I ever found. So eager, ready to give everything he had in one great burst." Apart from he hadn't agreed to give everything, he didn't know that was what you were doing and he wouldn't have consented if he had!

"You really should stay." "I'll miss you, too." Ohhh. Lwxana's ability to cut to what Odo is feeling.

"I could stay, try to make you fall in love with me, but we both know that won't happen. Then I'd end up resenting you, and our friendship is far too important for me to let that happen." I love these two so much though ❤️❤️

"The dialogue is sharp, the story's involving, the characters are real. The spelling is terrible. I especially liked the father." SISKO :3 I love his dad-ing

"All you need to do is learn to find them by yourself." Sisko is such a wonderful dad. And so good at advice and saying the right thing!

Anslem - he wrote that in the alternate timeline where Sisko dies? But on his own? I guess in that timeline, at this point was he too sad for the alien to find him an alluring target? I like how we know it's his - and I'm guessing Sisko does too from his memories of that timeline. :3