#code name cupid

[francarieq]

hiii frances :33

i was curious about something and so i wanted to ask youu !!! ^_^

i was listening to my tony playlist a few hours ago and the instrumental version of one of my favorite songs of ever from one of my favorite movies of ever based on one of my favorite books of ever [ "When the Wind Blows" ] came on

and that made me think ..

would your tony listen to / like it ? (⁠◍⁠•⁠ᴗ⁠•⁠◍⁠)

[ sorry if im bothering you , i just really wanted to know . take care , my dearest !! 💌 ]

HI SPOOKZ!! guh he would 100% listen to it, he probably watched the movie and read the book ( i haven’t read abt it nor watched it yet n i’m looking for a good book / movie so ty for this ) tony’s just that type of guy!? he’s that guy who would listen to the instrumentals more than the ones with the actual lyrics 😇

if ur going 2 ask what type of songs he likes: it’s probably jazz or old people music or whatever rico blanco has cooking—BUT HE LOVES QUEEN N ABBA!! <- he loves their songs a ton; memorized by heart, nothing beats abba and queen for tony ( i kinda based him off their songs )

TAKE CARE TOO SPOOKZ GSGS ( also hi?? dearest?!>! HELP WHAT ARE WE /AFF 🥹🥹 )

[ssuperrnnovaa]

— WHEN THEY FALL IN LOVE..

or, when there's no turning back for the first years.

a/n: first writing post.. AHH edit 1: i forgot to add things I DIDNT PROOFREAD SORRY

when ace trappola falls in love..

he's still the same guy. but almost sweet, almost kind.

but he's a master of his secrets. parts his mouth just to spew another joke about your appearance or how you did on that potionology test the other day - that same glint of hesitation in his eyes, that unsure croak of his voice just before he delivers another nasty quip about your face. like a punchline stuck in his throat - too funny to laugh at, too funny to acknowledge.

funny how he'd said he'd "rather hang out with his friends than find love", and here he is; laying in his bed. at 3 am. head filled with nothing but thoughts of you.

he'll let it simmer. wait for you to realize - wait for you to notice him, not just the facade he puts up. not the prankster he is in class, or the troublemaker you have to put up with.

wait for you to love him back.

when deuce spade falls in love..

he's trying his very best.

deuce was never much of a charmer - the guy's been a delinquent for most of his life; feared, not loved. he only sees (romantic) love in the movies - terrible rom-coms, poignant love stories.. you name it. deuce has no idea about love.

(his lack of knowledge gets worse with you.)

deuce tries - keyword, tries to keep his composure in front of you. he fails, miserably. his face? turning red. words? none. palms? sweating. and pride? absolutely crushed.

he apologizes to you later, blames it on the heat or how he forgot about another ridiculous rule. calls up his mom and his mouth is a dam - like he suddenly gained the ability to talk 10 minutes later. tells her all about you, as if she doesn't know your entire genetic code just from hearing him talk.

maybe one day.

when jack howl falls in love..

it's unyielding - unyielding, but quiet.

jack doesn't date for fun; never has, never will. he doesn't chase anyone.

wolves mate for life - you know it when jack immediately shuts down the idea of even having a crush or having an ex, saying that he's "focused on self-betterment" or "waiting for the right person". you're convinced that not even cupid could get him to fall in love.

but for you? that discipline shatters.

it happens during a study session in ramshackle when you're idly playing with his ears - making fun of that stone-cold persona when in reality he's melting under your touch. he catches himself after five minutes of bliss, thoughts of the future flooding his brain; "what if i won't be a good partner to them? what if i let them down?'

to jack, love isn't a game; love's not the way he feels embarrassingly giddy after you squeeze his hand or poke his bicep. love's permanent. forever. and it terrifies him.

when epel felmier falls in love..

it's fierce.

epel's not soft - in fact, he's everything but. he'd do anything to be seen as strong by you; even if it meant burying his own feelings.

epel was never much of a dreamer - let alone a lovey-dovey kind of guy. he despises those mushy romance stories, calling them "dumb as a box of rocks", grimacing when he watches the leads kiss.

yet.. he can't help but be entranced. by you.

he scoffs a little too loudly for vil's comfort, but in his head, he's repeating the same mantra over and over again in his head - "i'm not some silly little girl moonin' over someone. i've got better things to do with my time. besides, love is for babies."

yet, his defenses crumble when you ever do so much as breathe in his direction, and suddenly, he's back to square one.

when sebek zigvolt falls in love..

it's fervent.

sebek is passionate about a lot of things - his duty as a retainer, malleus, academics, and you.

you, a mere human that could quiet him down with just a finger to your lip. you, a mere human who keeps him awake at night and restless, overthinking. yearning.

it's foolish, he tells himself. tells himself it's just a small crush as if it's not all-consuming, as if he's not avoiding you all together just so he could have peace of mind.

is it the right thing to do? no. will it keep him unbothered? absolutely not. and will he come to terms with his feelings?... unlikely.

[starshoyo]

YAKUZA’S WIFE ★

PAIRING Sakusa Kiyoomi x fem!reader

WARNINGS Mention of violence

TAGS Wife AU, Yakuza Leader AU, possessive behavior, jealousy

IN WHICH Sakusa is the most feared yakuza leader in Japan, who would do anything for you, his wife. And sometimes, he tends to get a little jealous

𝐑𝐔𝐋𝐄𝐒/𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓

THERE WERE UNWRITTEN rules in the yakuza business; an unspoken code of conduct that everybody in the industry followed. But there was one rule that was valued above every other rule: Don’t fuck with Sakusa Kiyoomi.

He was known as a calculated, wise man who did everything with complete and utter focus. All of the decisions he made were thought over a thousand times. He’s buried dozens of bodies with the precision of his gun, and his reputation was no exaggeration.

Anybody in the industry would know his name, and if they were smart, they knew to be loyal and keep their distance.

You meeting Sakusa was purely by chance. Graduating from culinary school, you opened up a small bakery in the city of Tokyo, unaware that the area was Sakusa’s turf. It was love at first sight, as cheeky as it sounds.

After buying the shop, you were struggling to keep your head above the water, drowning in debt from the culinary school and rent.

Any new shop on Sakusa’s turf meant he would have to check it out, and oh, is he glad he did. When he opened the door to your bakery and the bell rung, signaling his arrival, you ducked out from the kitchen, blessing him with an angelic smile.

He was struck with Cupid’s bow. How couldn’t he be?

After his fifth time at the bakery, he finally asked you out for dinner. Your cheeks had bloomed in red. You hadn’t expected the handsome regular to actually be interested in you. He had taken you to a restaurant that was worth your rent, and it was that day that you had found out he was unbelievably wealthy.

It was two months into dating that you found out that he was a yakuza leader.

To be honest, you noticed the small signs. His lawyer, Komori, always being present. His “secretaries”, Bokuto and Atsumu, constantly pulling him aside just to talk about work. Then Hinata, his employee, showing up with new bandages and bruises every week.

They were always in suits, and with Sakusa being so secretive about work, you always had a hunch. But it was when you were at work, selling bread as always.

Then clock had hit 7, and you decided to close for the night, knowing Sakusa would be here soon to pick you up to take you to dinner. A man had walked in, wearing shabby clothes and a hood over his face.

Before you could tell him the store was closed, he pulled out a pocket knife from his pocket, yelling at you to empty the register. You remember everything like a blur. You had been trembling like a newborn fawn, tears dripping down your cheeks as you slowly handed him the money.

Then the door opened again, and Sakusa was there in a second, his fist connecting to the man’s jaw with a smack so hard that you were sure something broke.

Sakusa was a calm man. He was almost emotionless, always monotonous and collected. But this was the first time you’ve seen him… furious. Atsumu, who usually drove them around, had stepped in after hearing the commotion, and had to haul Sakusa off of the man.

Later, at Sakusa’s penthouse, he had held you in his arms like you were fragile, murmuring a thousand apologies into your hair for keeping such a secret, and showing you such a scene. “I would never hurt you,” He promised, kissing your tears away.

That day only seemed like yesterday, despite it being two whole years ago. You were now married, over a year. Kiyoomi, you called him now. He was your loving husband, who was scary to the world but a big softie to you.

You had long quit that bakery, Kiyoomi practically begging you to let him take care of you. It took months for him to finally convince you to let him take care of your debt, and to move in with him. You were all against it at first, feeling horrible for using his money, but he truly insisted, and how could ever say no to him?

“Flower,” Kiyoomi called, a nickname he gave you. He held his hand out for you to take, and you smiled, letting him help you get out of the car. “Have a good night!” Atsumu yelled from inside the car. “Thanks, ‘Tsumu.” You quickly said, before shutting the door.

“You look beautiful as always.” Your husband hummed, placing a kiss to your cheek and wrapping an arm around your waist. “Only because you take such good care of me, Omi.” You told him, hand on his chest. He smiled, one of those small ones that only you could really notice.

Tonight was date night, dining at a hotel restaurant of Kuroo, a business partner who had just opened the grand luxury hotel. As Kiyoomi walked you into the hotel, you didn’t fail to notice the way employees ducked their head deeply, some holding their breaths.

This was another thing that had bothered you, at first, but now, it was the norm. The restaurant was absolutely gorgeous, bustling with people and jazz music being played live in the corner. “Oh, wow. Kuroo outdid himself.” You gasped. “Do you like it?” Sakusa asked, studying your face.

You absentmindedly nodded, still amazed at the architecture. “Then we’ll come here again, soon.” He promised.

A host walked up to the two of you. “Hello, do you have reservations?” It wasn’t uncommon for people not to recognize Kiyoomi. He nodded. “Yes, under Sakusa.” He said, his voice as monotonous as ever. The host repeated the name under his breath a couple times as he checked the list, before furrowing his brows.

“Well, it doesn’t seem like you’re on the list here, sir. Are you sure you made a reservation?” The host raised an eyebrow, face full of doubt. From the corner of your eye, you saw your husband’s eye twitch in irritation. “Yes, we were invited by the owner of this hotel.” You answered instead, trying to cool the tension with a grin.

The host didn’t respond, looking to you, then at Sakusa, then back at the list with a sigh. This time, your eye twitched in irritation. Asshole. “Mr. Sakusa and Mrs. Sakusa, what a pleasure to have you here!” You heard a panicked voice boom, an older male rushing towards the both of you.

You checked the badge on his chest, reading “Floor Manager”. “The pleasure is ours.” You answered, leaning into your husband’s side with a smile. Kiyoomi only huffed. “Apparently, we don’t have a reservation.” Anybody could recognize the pure annoyance in his tone.

“Omi.” You warned. He looked away like a guilty child.

“It’s alright, we can come back another day.” You offered, but the manager shook his head furiously. “Nonsense! I’m sure it’s a fault in our system! We’ll get a table ready as soon as we can. Again, I apologize.” He bowed repeatedly. He then turned to the young host, gently smacking his arm.

“What the hell are you standing there for? Go get a table ready now.” He whisper yelled, rushing off with him. You were left with silence, the two of your staring at their retreating forms. “…I’m telling Kuroo about this.” Kiyoomi said, which translated to “I’m getting that host fired”.

You scowled, hitting his chest with the back of your hand. “Oh, stop whining. We were able to get a table, so who cares?” You sighed, even though you were equally irritated with that ill mannered host.

Despite the incident with the reservations, your new host was awfully polite, the music calming, and the food tasting better than anything you’ve ever eaten. Despite being with him for over two years, you found yourself falling impossibly harder ever conversation.

During the course, Kuroo came out to greet the two of you as well, his catlike smile never changing. You knew Kuroo was just as involved with the yakuza industry as Sakusa, but in a different way.

When the night came to an end, you had headed to the bar on the other side of the restaurant, Kuroo saying that the drinks were on him in apology for the mix up with the reservations and staff.

“Order yourself a drink, I have to take a call from Komori.” Kiyoomi told you, pressing a firm kiss to your temple. “Alright.” You hummed, taking a seat on the stool.

He walked out, never missing the way his face completely changed into his business one. He walked out of the restaurant and into the hall, leaving you alone. “Hi, (Name).” You heard a familiar, quiet voice. You looked up, surprised to see Kenma working behind the bar.

“Oh, hi! I didn’t know you work here?” You grinned, leaning in. Kenma was a professional hacker who worked under Kuroo, who helped out Sakusa when it was necessary. He was quiet and introverted, but was surprisingly good company. “Only when I’m bored. Do you want something?”

You nodded. “A cranberry martini, please.” He nodded, moving around the bar to make you a drink. In the meantime, you pulled out your purse, powdering your face and touching up your makeup. There were less customers now, the lights dimmed than before to add to the ambience.

The upbeat New Orleans style jazz that was playing earlier has now turned into slow blues. There were only old couples and guests who have probably put their children to sleep. “Here.” Kenma slid your drink across the counter.

“Thanks.” You picked up the glass, taking a sip. You smiled at the taste, watching as Kenma disappeared to the other side of the long bar to wash some glasses. “Is it good?” You heard a new voice. You turned around, flinching at the stranger who was too close for your liking.

You looked him up and down, trying to figure out if he was a friend of Kiyoomi’s or purely an idiot trying to hit on you. “Get one yourself and find out.” Your words were unkind, and you turned back around, hoping he’d get the hint and leave.

“Aww, come on! Don’t be like that.” He laughed, taking a seat on the stool next to you. You wanted to groan in his face. You let out a silent sigh, before turning to face him. “Look, if you’re looking for company, you won’t find it here.” You told him, setting the martini down on the counter.

You glanced back at Kenma, who was oblivious to this stranger hitting on you. He was chatting with a customer, too busy to notice. You frowned. “Oh, why? Come on, let me buy you another drink.” The stranger insisted, leaning in. You blinked, face scrunching in disgust as you leaned away.

“No thank you. I’m married, alright?” He glanced at your hand, and sure enough saw the diamond ring. That didn’t seem to be enough to stop him, though. “Well, I don’t see your husband anywhere.” He chuckled.

“Turn around.” The voice was heavy and low. You looked past the man’s frame and saw your husband with an all too familiar look on his face. Furious.

“M-Mr. Sakusa!” The man squeaked pathetically, jumping out of the seat. You blinked in surprise. Wait, this guy knew him? “I- You- I didn’t know-” He stammered, slowly backing away. He flinched when his back hit the chest of someone new.

He slowly turned around, face to face with Kuroo, who tutted his tongue. “Now, this won’t do. Should I have a word with him for you, Sakusa?” Kuroo asked with his eyes still trained on the shorter male, obviously entertained. Kiyoomi put his hand on your lower back, motioning for you to stand up.

He grabbed your bag and your coat. “Yes. I’m leaving with my wife.” He said blatantly, and turned to stare at your forgotten martini as he walked you towards the exit. “But my drink.” You frowned.

“We have wine, flower.” He told you softly, his voice completely different from the bloodlust filled tone earlier. You didn’t miss the way he glared at the stranger as you passed by him.

You giggled. “You’re so cute when you’re jealous.” You held his hand, and he immediately gripped back. “I’m not cute.” He rolled his eyes, acting annoying as if he didn’t love it. “Whatever you say, Omi.”

When you went back the next week, Kiyoomi keeping his promise of taking you back to the restaurant soon, you had noticed that the rude host was nowhere to be seen.

And according to Kenma, Kiyoomi had visited the hotel after you had fallen asleep that night you got hit on, and the stranger left looking like hell rained down on him.

[atyourmerci]

Gold wing, angel

meanloser!ellie X classpresident!r

CW: smut, MDNI, dom!ellie, sub!reader, v angsty, slight bondage, cunt slapping, fingering, cunnilingus, edging, orgasm denial, ruined orgasms, lite angel symbolism, no y/n, no pdor

A/N: actually surprised I finished a req (you all applaud me) this is inspired by “GOLDWING” by billie.

Ellie was a sick drug. Something not to be desired. She was the epitome of the allure of indulging in something you shouldn’t have, shouldn’t know, try at very least.

How did she get this way- who made her like this? Anger taken out through bodies of admission in an act of revenge. Taking back what was taken from her. Her pride regained by your submission.

You could have never fathomed the aggression the loser from AP American literature could obtain. You thought she’d beg on her knees for you. Worship your every move, starstruck by even getting the chance to touch you.

But she didn’t. She reveled in taking you off your high horse, got off on watching the student body president, proper and witty, utterly depraved by getting her cunt abused by a fucking moron.

-

98- A fucking 98, you did not deserve a 98 on the midterm paper. Your work was frankly sloppy, lacked comprehension. It made you ill knowing you were turning in something so lackluster with your name slapped across the front so proudly. The only thing that made you sicker was the thought of receiving special treatment- you had an image to uphold. You got to your position in this society from your own intellect, blood, sweat, tears and all. Kissing ass for a fucking 98 wasn’t in the cards.

The class began filing out as usual, like wild animals in a pack, shiny white teeth like daggers. Meshing together in their navy steam-pressed blazers, hair like defining fur, the only indication of individuality.

Except for her, sticking out like a sore thumb, the great big elephant in the room. Breaking many rulebook codes with her black nail polish, unkept hair to the standard policy, her white polo unbuttoned at the top two buttons that revealed her freckled chest. Despite her all around degenerate persona, she was irritatingly smart. Maybe if she had an ounce of charm she’d take your place.

With the rest of the class out of sight she stares at you. Not cutting off eye contact you both rise from your chairs you practically run to Mr. Stevens desk. The slap of two papers hit his desk, a 98 and a 90 shining in red sharpie ink on the white papers.

“I don’t deserve this,” comes out in unison, the sincerity in your voice cut open by the harshness in Ellies.

“Please one at a time, ladies.”

Before the words can even escape your lips Ellie rages, “I worked my ass off on this. I deserve better than a 90,” she spits out. “I know you can do better than this Ms.Williams, I expect more from you.” Ellie scoffs back at him, “this is bullshit,” she muffles but continues standing at his desk.

Mr.Stevens nods his head in your direction for your speech, you glance at Ellie with her arms now crossed, awaiting your protest. You brush off her insistence on staying and begin, “Mr.Stevens, I appreciate your grading and understanding my agenda for the midterm, but objectively this is sub-pare work. I think you may have given me someone else’s grade… maybe you mixed up my grade with Ms.Williams.”

He doesn’t skip a beat, “I don’t mix up grades, you earned it. Now if you two will excuse me,” Mr.Stevens directs you both to the now empty hallway.

Ellie storms out with rage, cheeks flushed and lips pressed closely, you follow behind. “‘ms Williams’? the fuck was that?” Ellie presses in a scowl, words echoed in a bare hallway.

“Look I read your paper, I think you deserved better,” you retort in an attempt to soothe her. You cant seem to keep your eyes off her cupids bow, the contrast of soft pink lips against her tired skin.

“Oh thats fucking rich coming from ‘ms I don’t deserve my grade’ you’re pathetic,” she points, eyes thinning.

“Maybe if you weren’t such a bitch more people would like you,” you attempt, heat rising in your own cheeks, heart thumping roughly in your chest.

Ellies cruel disposition contorts into a grin, inching closer to your body, “you’re fucking him aren’t you? Ms. perfect sucking off the teach so she can stay on top?”

A power so foreign comes before you, using force to push your wrist into her chest, though she doesn’t budge, “shut up.”

She returns your aggression, pushing your bodies flesh up against the brick wall behind you, ripping the breath from your lungs. Your hands instinctively grip into her shirt. Her eyes are wild, as if she was surprised she’d taken it this far, or rather puzzled by the fact you haven’t broken your grasp.

You both pant from the intrusion, glaring, waiting- waiting for someone to cave.

Like a dog on a leash you dragged her in, pulling her by her fabric until her lips met your own. A depraved act, met with open mouths and wandering tongues. Hatred in its finest form, digging into her as if you’d ever thought of it. A subconscious desire pulled from the depths of your cravings.

Before true indulgence she pushes you off, taking a moment to look at your hazy disposition, drunk on delinquency, “don’t ever do that again,” she pants out. Taking her thumb she wipes the saliva from your bottom lip and takes off without your response.

-

Time after time you went back. You told yourself you’d stop, never talk to her again. Yet there the keys were in the ignition, a path that you knew like the back of your hand. Leading, controlling your own fate of defacement.

“Can you please just open the door,” you plead on her doorsteps, mind and body corrupted- to only be pleased by the mental games, the destruction in forms of submitting to her.

Strung up like an old doll long forgotten in the attic, bound wrist behind your back and ankles tied to the head of her bed, vulnerable and needy.

“What now? Use your fucking words,” Ellie remarks before spitting on your neglected cunt. Your body winces at the sensation of the hot liquid dripping down the pulsing flesh, “please I promise I’ll do whatever you ask.”

She hovers over your squirming body, carful to not give you the satisfaction. Gripping your jaw in her hand, “do you ever pay attention to what I tell you? You don’t deserve to come,” cocking her free hand back to lay a purposeful slap to your slick folds causing you to scream out from the blissful pain.

She lays another one into the already beat red skin, a cruel grin growing on her lips as she hears you enjoying it. “You’d let me do anything, wouldn’t you?” she asks glaring at your tucked in lip, eyes glossy. You nod back at her, signaling your approval for using your body as her personal vessel.

Somehow it was good enough for her, dropping down to your perked nipples and sucking it into her teeth as she uses her hand to cover your eyes. You’d learn very early on that you weren’t allowed to watch her use her mouth on you. In the odd occasion she’d let you have your cunt in her mouth shed have your face shoved in the sheets while she took you from behind. She never told you why- and you didn’t dare ask.

Your wrist wriggle behind your back as your chest arches into her mouth, hot and wet. You obsess over what it would feel like on your mouth again, most nights were spent only thinking of her mouth- foreign, an impenetrable fortress. You began to chase the chance of the feeling her again.

You feel as her mouth comes off of the swollen bud as she removes the hand on your eyes, “don’t look,” she says with no threat in her tone, but you don’t risk crossing her.

You shut your exhausted eyes, dropping your head back as you feel her wrap her arms around the meat of your thighs. She drags an antagonizing strip up your slit, jolting your body into the mouth.

She goes as slow as possible, providing as little pressure she can muster up to the swell of your clit, but from her slaps it wouldn’t take much. Your body akin to a fish gasping for air out of water, squirming under her touch. She digs her fingers deep into the flesh as a warning.

“If you ever want to come again Id advise you behave.”

“P-please,” you plead to her, legs shaking as you whimper her name over and over like a prayer.

“I said no, i swear to god I’ll ruin every fucking orgasm,” sliding her two fingers into your clenching hole she drives slow pumps as she returns her mouth to your clit.

Your face contorts in concentration, attempting to hold yourself back but you could only be held off for so long.

“Ellie- Ellie!” bursting at the seams, your body detesting her rules, letting the hot white cum coat her fingers. She only fucks you harder, faster through your orgasm. This is a game you weren’t to win, rather to allow herself to revel in your pain. She got off on destroying your mind, making it to where you can only be pleased by her punishment.

Ellie kept her word, working you up on the edge of finishing and stopping completely, laughing at your pathetic state, crying and begging to come.

Clipping your wings, she hung them on her walls as a trophy. Pleas echoing her room, come splattering her sheets, your lips chapped and neglected.

[tragedy-of-commons]

RUE.

── march 7th x gn!reader

summary: On Valentine's Day, rumors reach your ears that your best friend - and coincidentally, your mega crush - March 7th, has inexplicably started dating someone else. Is everything here really as it seems, or is Cupid just using you as target practice?

contains: modern & highschool au, misunderstanding trope, comedic tone but there is Angst Kinda™, inspired by my very american experiences (sorry), not actually unrequited love, happy ending, perhaps some wlw-coding icl but anyone can read

word count: 5.6k

notes: written for this event, requested by @plebejus-argus (prompt rue + indelible, lacuna)! umm. i got a little carried away. enjoy.

The world is ending as you know it.

“I’m sorry,” you shake your head, smile turning terse. “What was that?”

“I said she’s with someone else,” Herta, the Robotics Club president, informs you. She slams her locker shut (normally you’d make a comment about her barely reaching the knob, but right now you think your insides are dissolving), the sound reverberating throughout the chasmic hallway.

“Why you or anyone else would want to date Little Miss Pink is beyond me, but you’re encroaching on a taken lady, twerp. For your own benefit, you should back off.”

You knew something was off when the aloof academic genius herself dragged you away from your lunch to walk with her. But you didn’t expect this. March, your bestest friend in the whole wide world, suddenly off the market? And the news is being broken to you on the day of your planned confession? 

This can’t be right, your gut urges, she would’ve told me.

Why wouldn’t she? March 7th tells you everything! She even confided in you about accidentally pushing that TA into the courtyard fountain that one time. Hell, the pink-haired girl even triple texts you about the drama she overhears (eavesdrops on) in the library, excessive emojis included.

You text her during calculus when you should be working, and she responds immediately, both of your souls almost intertwined in some type of procrastination symbiosis. When you’re riding the bus together, she’ll rest her head on your shoulder and doze for twenty minutes while you watch the rise and fall of her chest.

And on days like these, Valentine’s, you hold apprehensive hope in your heart that today may be the day I tell her how I feel.

Your chest tightens painfully. What if that day will never come? 

“How do you know that?” you rasp, throat now dry, “And more importantly, why do you care? You didn’t even come to my party last week! You’re a geek, not a gossip—”

Herta whirls around to face you, amethyst eyes narrowed. “I’m not stupid. If you require anecdotal evidence, fine: I saw her canoodling with her presumed lover this morning. I can’t remember his name, and frankly, he was repulsive - but he was holding a bouquet, she was giving him googoo eyes, et cetera.”

You are going to die. 

If it were not for your stubborn brain, you’d buckle to your knees and beat on the linoleum floor while lamenting how every single divine being out there must be praying on your downfall. But you stay as still as a statue, probably burning holes into this egghead’s face.

It makes a little sense, you suppose. March 7th is fun, hilarious, thoughtful, beautiful, and full of joy; she’s a total catch, so it’s not as surprising as you’d like that others would be vying for her attention. She’s already befriended just about everyone in this school, including all of the teachers and the stray dogs near the gate. Who wouldn’t try to confess to her?

You blanch. “Oh.”

“Yeah, ‘oh’!” Herta stomps her foot, pulling you from your impending breakdown. “I’m never wrong, by the way. Everyone and their mother sees how you look at her. But,” she rocks up on her tiptoes to flick your forehead, “you’re too late. Pity.”

“There’s gotta be more to it than that,” you reason, huffing and rubbing the wounded spot. “Even if this did happen, she would’ve told me, like, right after! Her suddenly acquiring a boyfriend is kind of a big deal.”

“Maybe she forgot. Young love is inebriating.”

No, she wouldn’t forget. You know March like the back of your hand, and though important stuff can slip her mind, it’s moreso… assignment deadlines, instead of interpersonal drama. She’s a pro at cataloguing the latter.

“You’re overthinking it!” Herta crosses her arms over her chest. “Consider your options carefully. If I were you - which would be a travesty - I’d tell her how I feel, and before the end of the day, too.”

“That doesn’t sound like something you’d say. You were just telling me to back o—”

…then she stalks down the hallway with purpose, shockingly fast on her short legs.

Something is very wrong in the world today. You can’t even go back to lunch, your appetite lost among a whirlwind of thoughts. It’s disconcerting; you’ve, admittedly, not seen March since morning, and she was absent from the cafeteria too. 

She could be off somewhere with this… this guy. Solidifying the thought in your mind is devastating. 

One time - both of you were about thirteen, the subject of romance (what you knew about it against your will) was breached over a mess of glittery pens and scented stationery. All day, instead of working on a dreaded animal cell diagram, you’d been indulging in the sacred, prophetic game of M.A.S.H. and the crafting of paper fortune tellers. 

“I don’t see what you find fun about this,” you’d grumbled. 

“Well, that’s ‘cause you’re weird,” she’d responded matter-of-factly, scribbling numbers on sectioned folds of loose leaf. “Don’t you wanna know who you’ll marry?”

“No.”

“Well, that’s too-bad-so-sad. Now, pick a color!”

Minutes earlier, you’d been slyly watching out of the corner of your eye when she’d decided which person to put under which flap of the fortune teller (her big, looping handwriting can be discerned from a mile away), and you’d taken great care to remember which numbers and colors to pick to land on her name. 

Notably, March had put her name and yours into the craft - forever cementing the possibility that both of you could end up together, if someone just picked the right combination. 

Perhaps, back then, you were trying to puppeteer fate. It seemed to work, because when you picked 3 and pink, March 7th was revealed to you after some mere hand-shuffling and genius scheming. Back then, you’d felt a little guilty, but not guilty enough to tell her that you were probably going to get struck down for blasphemy or hubris or something. You’d just internalized that part.

…but most clearly, you remember the giant, blinding smile on her face.

“Oh my gosh!” she’d exclaimed, cheering like she was competing with the shot heard ‘round the world, “Me! You’re gonna marry me! This is awesome news. We already know everything about each other; we both like puppies and kittens, and we both suck at science!”

March was, and still is, the most beautiful person alive.

You remember your heart pounding traitorously. “...yeah. This is awesome news.”

“I want red velvet for our wedding cake!”

Of course, as you’ve grown older, you recognize that it was just a silly game. But the memories you’ve made with her between then and now, were not. If anything, they’ve only made you realize how much - how badly - you do want to marry her, one day in the future. There’s no one else for you. 

But is there someone else for her? Like this mysterious guy giving her flowers that may or may not exist? You need to talk to March or else you’re going to explode. If that happens, then the already underpaid janitors are going to have to scrape your remains off the floor. Ugh.

However, the feat of communicating with your best friend today is starting to seem impossible. 

“Now, not to call anybody out,” a warm but monotone voice interrupts your spiraling, “but please try to pay attention. This will be on your exam.”

Mr. Yang is clearly talking about you, but you cannot bring yourself to tear your gaze away from March 7th’s empty seat. This isn’t funny anymore, where is she? Out of the four classes you have today, you share three of them with her. Though sometimes she skips to nap in the abandoned bio lab, she always texts, and she always invites you.

Is she with her new boyfriend? The one she didn’t care to tell you about? You hope not. Whoever this guy is, he’s definitely not good enough for he—

A hand is placed on your shoulder. You jump. 

“Mr. Yang! Sorry!” you blurt, looking up at your history teacher with a visceral type of embarrassment. He’s assessing you with an arched eyebrow and a frown, even as his hand reels back and he formulates a response.

Your cheeks feel hot, especially because, surely, everyone is watching - judging - and you’re just floundering with your mouth hanging open like an idiot. 

…wait, where is everyone?

“Are you alright? The bell rang two minutes ago,” he informs you, gesturing to the very empty classroom. Everyone’s already filed out, and it dawns on you that you’re going to be late for your next class if you keep this up.

You swiftly counter, standing rigid in your seat while beginning to gather your things, “Yes! Again, I’m sorry, I’ve just been skimping on sleep. I’ll get the notes from someone, I promise!”

Your explanation sounds unconvincing even to you, but you’d rather die before bringing up your dilemma to someone so kind like Mr. Yang. He’s so chill that lets everyone eat in class, allows cheat sheets on midterms, and lets you sit next to your friends.

Your friends. You stop cramming papers into your backpack, bottom lip trembling.

“Sit down. I’ll write you a note, so don’t worry about being tardy.”

Slumping back down, you give up on lying, the despair clear as day on your face and in the tears clumping in shimmering globs on your lashes. “Okay.”

A pregnant pause settles over the classroom, making the cooler side of you inwardly cringe. The other side wants to rant and rave to Mr. Yang until your tongue falls off. You do neither, waiting for him to speak first. He brushes past you and drags a chair over from an adjacent desk, the metal scraping against the floor like a death knell. When he levels with you, index finger drumming against the wooden surface below, he sighs.

“I couldn’t help but notice someone isn’t here today,” he retrieves a patterned handkerchief from his jacket pocket, paternally offering it to you. “I can’t say your reaction is abnormal. March 7th usually shows up, what with you two being the best of friends. Did something happen between you guys?”

You sniffle pathetically, wiping your tears and snot on the cloth, making a mental note to wash and return it later. Y’know, if you make it through today. Exploding is still a viable option.

“Um, not really. I just think she’s avoiding me? It’s not like her at all, and now, out of nowhere, people are saying that she’s dating this mysterious guy, and—”

The look Welt Yang gives you is still one of concern, but there’s a knowing spark in his eyes that makes you pause. God, how mortifying. Have you made it that obvious that you’re jealous? Seething in envy? Ready to burn down this school and raze the fields in her honor? You bite your tongue, muttering to yourself in embarrassment.

“I’d be remiss not to tell you that rumors can be just that - rumors,” he adjusts his glasses. “I’m sure you understand; you’re a smart kid, I’ve graded your quizzes myself. Once you determine the truth, things will get easier. I’m quite familiar with you and March 7th. She’ll turn up.”

“I know, I-I just…” you swallow. “I really like her. And I guess I underestimated how much until I heard she was with someone else.” 

“I figured,” Mr. Yang smiles at you, eyes crinkling and crow’s feet elongating with the shift of his facial muscles. “It is Valentine’s Day, after all. It makes sense you’re troubled about love - the atmosphere really amps up the pressure.”

Love. He used the L word. Spontaneous human combustion therefore must commence.

Without a doubt, you know you love March. But have you ever said it? Have you ever taken the initiative to make something more out of your friendship with her? No. You’ve been… waiting, and because you’ve been waiting, you’ve missed your shot with her. Someone more candid, more confident, has wooed her first.

You can’t stew in your inaction any longer! Something must be done… maybe Herta was right. Maybe you need to confess, get this all out of your system, even if she’s taken now. There’s no other prime time for it - you feel a burn in your calves that urges you to get the hell up right now, get moving, and go tell her. 

You want to tell your best friend that you love and cherish her company more than anything in the world, even if she knows. Even if she doesn’t love you back with that knowledge. 

“I guess it does.” Sneaking another glance at March’s empty desk, you breathe out hot air and stand up again to continue gathering your belongings, stuffing Mr. Yang’s handkerchief in your pocket. “Um, I think I know what to do now. If I could get that note…”

He nods sagely. “Of course,” the brown-haired gentleman eyes the clock, “if you ever want to talk about anything else, my door is always open. Well, except for when it’s not, I suppose.”

You don’t see it as you get ready to leave, your resolve strengthened and obscuring the big picture, but Welt Yang puffs his chest out in pride for a fleeting second as you go, note in hand.

You decide to head to the last period of the day, but not quite. What you mean by that is…

“Dan Heng! Psst, Dan Heng!”

You knock on the window perhaps a little too harshly, but you have to be at least a little loud so he can hear you, right? 

The repetitive racket eventually penetrates the walls of the science building, finally earning the attention of Dan Heng. If March 7th is your bestest friend (and hopefully more soon), Dan Heng would be your number two - your sidechick. Wait, actually, not sidechick, ‘cause you don’t like him that way.

He’s the guy you drag along to the mall or to the skating rink so he can actually get out of the house a little. Smart, bit of a nerd, but he’s a stand-up dude. 

His eyes are widened marginally, and he sits up straight in his seat at your display. You can see most of him, but your fellow classmates are littered about, his desk smack dab in the middle of them and the room itself. It’s a miracle the teacher hasn’t noticed you, but you know it’s only a matter of time before you’re caught and promptly sent to detention (again).

And this guy doesn’t answer his phone in the middle of classes, either. In fact, he turns the device off completely, something you can’t fathom doing. So simply texting him and demanding that he rendezvous with you right now for an emergency meeting is out of the question.

You must look a little… unkempt. Oh well. You seek the counsel of Dan Heng the Wise.

“Meet me in the bio lab,” you painstakingly enunciate your syllables, mouthing the words as clear as you can. To drive your point home, you jut out your arm and gesture to the left, where the abandoned room lies. You’ll have to go back in the building to meet him once he understands. 

Dan Heng’s eye twitches. He glimpses back and forth between the teacher and you.

“Please! E-mer-gen-cy!!!” you frantically wave. 

You spot your dark-haired friend sigh; victory is yours. He raises his hand and rattles off some convincing excuse, throwing one last look over his shoulder before exiting the classroom when granted permission. 

Quickly, and with an exhilarated smile, you rush around the corner and push open the metal swinging doors, heading inside.

You’re sufficiently sweaty by now, faced with Dan Heng’s crossed arms and ever-present judgment. The lab, room 104 to be specific, is cluttered with all sorts of crap.

Spare desks are stacked high in all corners, spillage giving way to boxes of used equipment containing microscopes and bunsen burners - or just everything you’d expect. Large tables meant for conducting experiments are riddled with wear and tear. 

But there’s a reason a lot of people ditch to come here. Under one of the tables rests a communal snack box that every burnout, delinquent, and tired student contributes to - always leaving something in return for seeking respite from classes and the like. 

You’ve sure taken your fair share of stale pretzels and fruit bars. Lastly, the lights always stay off, giving way to the natural light seeping through the windows, illuminating floating dust particles that tie everything together. 

Wow, you should come here more often. Grades be damned. 

“What could possibly be so important as to—what’s wrong? Is someone hurt?”

Oh, right.

Dan Heng looks frazzled by your unresponsiveness, and you can’t blame him. Steeling yourself, you bring up what’s been on your mind. 

“I’m gonna confess to her,” you breathe, “March, I mean.”

It feels so good to say it to him. But if you were in his average-sized tennis shoes, you’d be miffed to be called out of class for something as frivolous as this too - a crush, one so life-altering that it’s holding your sensibility hostage and making you act like you’ve lost all your marbles.

“Has the day gotten to you too, then?” your friend actually facepalms. The hand splayed over his visage eventually cracks open so he can peer through the gaps of his fingers at you, no doubt in contemplation. “But I can tell you find this important. Is that all this is about?”

“Um… if you know where she is, do you mind telling me?”

He shakes his head, sarcastic. “I don’t happen to track her hyperactivity all day long.”

“Right, right,” you fiddle with your hands and pick at your nails. You want to specifically ask for advice, because if there’s another thing to note about Dan Heng, it’s his levelheaded nature; this cornerstone of his personality has gotten you out of trouble in the past, and though he isn’t exactly a romance guru, there’s no one else you can think of turning to. 

“What?” he sighs.

“I’m gonna tell her no matter what, I swear, but… do you think that’s the right thing to do?”

“Why wouldn’t it be?” 

“Well, because Herta told me she was sucking face with some dude this morning—”

Dan Heng coughs abruptly, “Actually, save it. I don’t want to know. Regardless of any external circumstances, you’re still partial to her. That’s love, and it will only hurt you later if you bottle it up inside. Plus… if you ask me, you two work well together. I’ve never seen March happier than when she’s with you.”

You think of cute plushies and pillow forts. You think of snacks and dual-toned eyes that are always crinkling in a jubilant, idealistic kind of hope. You think of funny faces and bunny ears, of candids and camera lenses. 

“Thank you,” you smile. “You’re always the guy I can call on, huh?”

“Not in the middle of class, at least,” he sternly reminds you, though the fond pinch of his brows gives him away. “Please.”

“Understood!”

By the time the bell rings, signifying the end of the school day, you have somewhat of a plan. 

There are a bunch of weeds gathered up in your arms - dandelions, daisies, onion blooms, just a myriad of general wildflowers you’d picked from the campus’s track field. They itch at your exposed arms, bared from the feat of your rolled up sleeves, but it’s better than nothing. You’ve even shorn some of the stems and arranged them just so to give off the illusion of propriety.

They probably won’t hold a candle to whatever roses or carnations March 7th was given earlier. But that’s okay! You’ve tried your best, even pilfering a lavender ribbon from the art room to tie around the makeshift bouquet, sufficiently beautifying their otherwise lackluster appeal.

Now comes the issue of finding her. Just as you pull out your phone to send another text (the past few hours have filled her contact with unanswered messages), the device pings in your hand. Startled and hopeful, you shiftily survey the area before reading the notification.

April 8th: Omg!!! I’m sooo sorry for not responding all day (╥﹏╥)!!!

Phew, she’s alright! The animated typing indicator pops up again, so you wait.

April 8th: I promise I have a really good reason! You’re probably at the bus stop right now, so why don’t you take it to Purrfect Pastries? I’m there rn

April 8th: With a surprise for you, of course :3 and the kitties are waiting~

She’s of course referring to the cat cafe you’re both prone to frequenting. It has a cozy atmosphere, serves sweet things, and isn’t far off the normal commute to school… so it’s been purrfect, the past few years, for unproductive study sessions and shared laughter. 

Oh. She’s probably going to gush to you about her new lover. That makes sense - she was so caught up all day having fun and basking in the warmth of her new fling. 

But now is your time to shine. You’ll show up with your shitty flowers and you’ll win her over! Or maybe not that. Ideally that, yes, but March deserves to be happy; she’ll pick whoever she wants, even if that person is not you.

You: Okay haha glad you’re safe ^^

You: I’m omw On my way!

Damn autocorrect. 

“Hey, you finally made it!”

Even after a day like today, where nothing and everything made sense, one word comes to mind: Lovely. March is lovely.

As if your life depends on it, you shove the wildflowers behind your back. The stakes certainly feel that high when your eyes land on your friend. She’s at the table in the corner - the one you both always sit at, so much so that you’re told some of the feline residents curl up under the chairs, waiting for either one of you to walk through the door.

You make a beeline for the table. Normally, you’d at least greet Mittens, the host cat who lounges on the order counter, but you’re itching to deal with your pounding heart and sweaty palms right now.

However, when you wave at March and begin making your way over, you almost trip. Walking fluffballs swarm your legs, mewling up a storm and demanding your utmost attention.

“Oof! Hey, I’m here, calm down,” you laugh, kneeling briefly to scratch some bellies and chins. You beckon the pink-haired girl over to lend you a hand, too nervous to look at her, but you hear a giggle and the scraping of a chair as she presumably comes to your rescue. “They’re so clingy today!”

“Well, we haven’t been here in forever,” she hums, kneeling down with you to say hi to everyone. She coos and simpers, and while she’s distracted, then you ogle all you want. 

March is positively beaming, radiant as ever in the midst of dim lamplight and dark wood. For some reason, a hidden, sardonic part of you thought she’d look different after entering a relationship. More affected, maybe, like she’s getting used to the company of a person that hasn’t been there since the beginning. Like she’s getting used to the company of a person that isn’t you.

Selfishly, maybe you’d hoped she’d look a little dissatisfied with the affections of someone else. 

No time for that now, you remind yourself. Stay grounded.

You watch as she works her magic; the uppity cats disperse after being fussed over a little. “I guess it has been a while. I’m a bit jealous - Mittens and the others prefer you over me any day.”

“Nah, they just missed us is all,” she grins. “Actually, mostly me, ‘cause I’m an animal whisperer and probably the reincarnation of Snow White. But you’re pretty awesome too.”

I missed you more than they did, you agonize.

March 7th grabs your hand. “Now come on, we have a lot to talk about!”

Dread courses through your veins as you take your rightful seat across from her. All of a sudden the gingham tablecloth looks very interesting. You decide to stuff your weed bouquet into your pocket, too ruffled to present it to her now. 

After March tells you all about her new sweetheart, you’ll come clean - if you don’t chicken out, that is. You’ll come clean about the explosion of wonderful and awful feelings in your chest, about the years of wanting. 

How could that admission change things? Ideally, she dumps this guy and threads her fingers through yours, giving you a shot at her heart and actualizing your idea of paradise.

Unfortunately, that fantasy is just a fantasy - realistically, she’ll react with sympathy, but tell you she doesn’t feel the same. That’s what you expect; friendly touches will cease, there’ll be a foreign, awkward lull in the air, and she’ll excessively tiptoe around anything that could upset you. 

March is considerate like that. God, why does this have to be so difficult? You want to back out, but Dan Heng will forever see you as a chicken (his eyes will say it for him), and you’ll be stuck yearning until the heat death of the universe.

“Again, I’m really sorry for being kinda AWOL all day, but I was planni—”

You don’t even think about what you do next. You just blurt,

“I cheated when we were making fortune tellers.”

You don’t register the bewildered look on her face, you just keep going. It’s a bit crazy how your hesitance just vanished - leaving your true feelings to lead the situation, for better or for worse. 

“W-When, uh, we were in eighth grade. You asked me to come over to your house so we could work on science, or fucking—whatever it was—and we never ending up working. You showed me how to make those paper fortune tellers and I thought it was really stupid. I thought it was stupid until you… until you put our names in it.” 

March’s lips are parted in surprise. You want to kiss them. Also, you want to projectile vomit. The Exorcist style.

“So I totally tuned you out while you talked so I could spy. I remembered where you put your name specifically,” you stutter, “I also r-remember how many jumbles it would take, so your section would—yeah. I picked you. I chose to marry you, and I cheated.”

You choke out the last word, tears rolling down your cheeks. You’re crying, and you haven’t even made a lick of sense so far - this the second time today you’ve had a breakdown and have gotten nothing out of it! Watching as the droplets land on the tablecloth, you don’t dare look up. 

At least you still have Mr. Yang’s handkerchief.

“I cheated because you’re the best, and I wouldn’t wanna be with anyone else, ever,” your vision blurs, thankfully giving you some courage. “But I know you’re dating someone else now, and I’m happy for you. I know that’s like… a cliche thing to say, b-but it’s true.”

March’s first reaction is not what you expect.

“Huh?! What on Earth are you talking about?! I’m not dating anyone! Dummy, where did you even hear that? I… oh you’re crying, I’m so sorry!” she panics, grabbing your hand once more. “Please don’t cry, it’ll make me cry.”

You’ve closed your eyes, but her sobering words make them shoot right back open.

“What?” you manage dumbly (hopefully).

“Is that why you think…? Oh my god, no! I wasn’t avoiding you all day because I was out tying the knot or something. I was avoiding you because I was busy planning this.”

March 7th stretches her arms out, concerned. She gestures to the cafe interior, and when you gather the strength to determine what she means, you notice something you hadn’t before.

Purrfect Pastries is empty, save for the two of you and the cats. Other tables normally teeming with couples and introverts alike are barren - there aren’t even menus set out. There are no empty coffee cups or muffin wrappers to be cleaned up by staff.

Speaking of, where are the staff? Sushang and Guinaifen are usually clamoring about, even on the clock. 

…other stuff, too. Besides the banker’s lamps tinged emerald and gold, there are flowers - they look to be paper - scattered over the whole expanse of the floor. Some of the waxy petals seem to have been shredded by the claws of none other than Mittens and his gang, while others remain intact, distinctly imitating a trail of roses. 

“I wanted candles, but Little Gui said they’d be a safety hazard. Honestly, I’m surprised she can talk, considering she swallows swords and fireballs as a side hustle,” she laughs, though it’s strained and unnatural. “You were really making a girl wait to be asked out, so I decided to take the initiative. Pretty smart, huh?”

You gawk. 

“This… this is a date?” Oh my god. Oh my god. “And you’re not seeing anyone?!”

“Yeah, duh,” her tone softens. “You’re so silly. Um, I skipped school to work a daytime shift here as payment, that way we could have the place to ourselves tonight. Turns out it’s a lot of work to secure Purrfect Pastries… I begged and bothered Ms. Siobhan until she said yes. Turns out my charm is, in fact, irresistible!”

“But—huh?”

She wipes your tears, all the while chattering like you’re not gonna have a heart attack. “And I was so, so nervous that I’d ruin the surprise! Sushang made me turn off my phone so I wouldn’t spoil anything - she almost threw it into the deep fryer too - but it was all worth it.”

“What I’m trying to say is… I’m sorry for keeping you in the dark, ‘cause it seems like I’ve missed a lot. I hope you’re okay… and, also, Happy Valentine’s.”

You bite back a hiccup and shakily retrieve your real - but undeniably pathetic - bouquet from your pocket. It’s completely squashed, the ribbon is almost unraveled, and the flowers have lost most of their color, already colored a soft brown.

Speaking is out of the question, because if you attempt it, you’re convinced that you will vomit The Exorcist style. So you just press the bundle into her hand, hoping it will say what you can’t.

“Are these for me?” March asks, breathy and on the verge of squealy. 

Don’t vomit. “Y-Yeah. Can you believe it? I was gonna try and win you back with them.”

Under regular circumstances, you wholeheartedly believe she would’ve poked harmless fun at this sad attempt at a romantic gift. She’d probably say something charming like “It looks like Bigfoot stepped on them,” or “Did you get this bouquet from the time of consumption?”

But the girl you love does not do that. Everything is too much, what with the realization that today was just some hellish misunderstanding, and you’re so… so happy. You don’t think you deserve to feel such joy after coming to believe untrue rumors about March 7th, but you’ll deal with that later.

“That’s so romantic!” she swoons, “Like in the movies where the noblemen are fighting over the hand of the princess, trying to win her over…”

“You’re the one who rented out a whole cafe for me, March.”

“Huh… I guess I did! When you put it like that, maybe you should bake me scones.”

“What?”

She fluffs the proffered weeds, making them look a bit livelier (despite most of the petals being lost to time), before setting them down on the table. It makes for a shitty centerpiece, but she seems more than content, a rosy color adorning her cheeks and allowing her to glow.

“Well, we can’t have a date without food, can we? Before clocking out, everyone helped me bake scones for us to eat. I’ll go get them, okay? I’m starving!”

Getting up and looking just as she always does, you speak up, somewhat coherent now.

“Thank you. Thank you so much. Shit, it seems silly to ask now, but… will you be my girlfriend?”

The pink-haired girl, your best friend, stops and turns. With a giggle and a wink, she once again, turns your world upside down.

“I already am! Heh. Also, I definitely knew you cheated back in eighth grade - with the fortune teller. I’m not so ditzy that I didn’t notice your staring, y’know.”

She disappears behind the counter and into the kitchen, petting Mittens on the way, but you still hear her - muffled, but still quite audible - squealing from here. What a delightful sound.

Just as you begin to decompress and recover, a burning question flares at the forefront of your mind.

Just what was Herta talking about, then? What about the dude March was supposedly ‘canoodling’ with? 

Almost prophetically, your phone pings several times. You dare to check it after a brief panic attack.

Herta: Well, it’s about time I tell you, I suppose

Herta: Ruan Mei and I made a little wager yesterday. She bet, in the interest of human compatibility, that you wouldn’t make a good pair with Little Miss Pink, and that you’d wuss out and spend Valentine’s Day alone

Herta: You should know by now that I don’t lose. Simply put, I lied to your face - there was never a John Doe trying to steal her from you. However, if my deductions are correct…

Herta: You and Little Miss Pink are now an item. I expect many thanks and perhaps your unwavering monetary support on my next project. You’re welcome 💜

…

You: Fguck Duck you

Herta: lol duck

Damn autocorrect! 

…you’ll just have to kill her tomorrow. 

taglist: @kazuinvocation HELP i'm too scared to tag anyone else

vday heart dividers by @/strangergraphics!!! rue on ao3

[fameandfiction]

IMAGINE PART I: “Nipple Theory” — Reneé Rapp x Reader

— Chaotic makeup session.

You knew agreeing to let Reneé do your makeup was going to be a thing, but you didn’t expect it to be a full-blown theory.

It starts with the sound of a drawer slamming.

Then a gleeful gasp.

Then—“Oh my GOD, remember when lip liner was supposed to match your nipples?! Like... that was the trend. That was the whole aesthetic. That’s where we were as a society.”

She turns to you like she’s discovered the Library of Alexandria. Except instead of literature, she’s holding a stubby pencil in a shade called “Bare Seduction.” You’re sitting in her bathroom, legs curled under you, robe slipping off your shoulder, while Reneé rummages through a bag of expired Glossier products like a witch brewing lip combos.

"Reneé, please—"

"No, no, no. You don’t get to 'please' out of this," she interrupts, spinning on her socked heel, gum snapping between her teeth. “This is sacred. This is nipple-coded. I’m taking this seriously.”

You give her a look — half-exasperated, half aroused. She’s wearing boxer shorts and a sports bra, her hair twisted up in a claw clip, and she’s dead serious about your cosmetic alignment with your areolas.

"You act like I have a Pantone chart of my boobs lying around," you mutter.

She squints at you. “Do you not? Amateur.”

You can’t help the laugh that bubbles out of you. Reneé Rapp has this way of saying the most absurd things like they’re law — like she’s the Greek chorus of hot girls and all of them are behind her, cheering.

"I’m not taking my top off just so you can match lip liner to my chest."

She clicks the pencil cap off dramatically. “Then describe them.”

“Reneé—”

“Warm rose? Cool blush? Terra-cotta titty? Give me something to work with.”

Your hand flies to your face in secondhand embarrassment, but your cheeks are already heating. Of course. This is so her. There’s not a single moment in your friendship where boundaries haven't been bent like wet mascara wands. It’s part of the charm. Or the chaos. Both.

She chews her gum like a devil at the gates of Sephora.

"Fine," you sigh. "They’re like... mauve? Kind of dusty pink. Not too bright. Definitely not coral."

She beams like you handed her state secrets. "Thank you. That wasn’t so hard, was it, baby?"

Baby. There it is again. She throws pet names around like confetti, but somehow when it’s just you, when it’s quiet and she’s standing over you with her wrist at your chin and her tongue in her cheek, it doesn’t feel harmless.

It feels... intentional.

She leans in. Close enough to count her lashes. Close enough to see that little freckle under her left eye twitch when she’s concentrating.

“No talking,” she says, all serious now. “This requires surgical precision.”

You sit still. Lips parted. Breath steady. Her fingers are warm when they cradle your jaw, tipping your head back like something delicate. The pad of her thumb brushes your bottom lip before the liner ever does.

And then — slow, careful strokes.

You feel the drag of pigment against your skin. You feel the shift of air between her chest and yours. The scent of her — vanilla lotion, coconut hair oil, peppermint gum — folds over you like a blanket made of everything you’ve ever wanted to taste.

"You’ve got good lips," she murmurs, not looking at your eyes. “Plump. Naturally lined. It’s unfair. You could ruin someone with these.”

You arch a brow, but your mouth doesn’t move. She’s right there, pencil tracing the edge of your cupid’s bow like a map she’s memorized.

"I’m starting to think this whole thing was an excuse to stare at my mouth," you whisper.

She doesn’t flinch. “And you’re only just starting to think that?”

Another stroke. Another pause.

You can feel her breath when she exhales — soft, sharp, amused. Her eyes flicker up to yours, and for a second, neither of you moves.

The vibe between you ripples. Lowkey. Tense. Familiar.

“Okay, I’m done,” she says, stepping back, but her voice is a little too breathless. A little too proud.

You blink yourself back into the moment. The mirror shows you something... different. Polished. Sharp. A little sensual. The lip liner does match. You’re not sure if it’s the color or the context that makes your throat dry.

“See?” she says, hip cocked, gum snapping. “Nipple theory never lies.”

You smile despite yourself. “You’re such a menace.”

She leans in again — much closer this time, eyes on your mouth. “Yeah. But admit it... you’re kind of into it.”

Then, just before you can think of something smart to say, she kisses your jaw. Right below the corner of your mouth. Lip liner and all.

“I should name the shade after you,” she murmurs against your skin. “Call it... 'Muse Mauve.’”

Your body goes still.

Reneé steps back with a wink. “Perfect match.”

[winterdaphne2]

Gay Easter Eggs in BBC Sherlock

(I trust the above requires no explanation.)

Perhaps someone has done this before, but I wanted to put together a compilation of gay easter eggs in the show that I’ve seen other people point out and/or have thoughts on myself. So here it is!

When I say “easter eggs,” I’m thinking of small clues that the show creators included in the set designs, music choices, and other details of the show to reference that Sherlock and John are in love. I’m thinking of things you could miss at first, especially little clues that often require a bit of extra information or require observations across episodes to understand.

Of course, there’s also lots of subtext woven into the show, moments where interpreting the dialogue or visuals in a certain way tells us something about Sherlock, John, and/or the state of their feelings for one another. I’m not sure if I can clearly define “subtext” versus “easter eggs” and explain what distinguishes them, but at least to me, several of the things I’ve listed here seem a bit different from what people often refer to as subtext. Maybe subtext is about uncovering the layers to a piece of dialogue or an action that takes place in plain sight and seeing how that impacts our interpretation of the story, but easter eggs are about spotting smaller, hidden details. I’m not trained in literary or film studies, though, and I’m not trying to be doctrinaire about this at all! This list is just for fun, anyway. (The above image might not actually count as an easter egg, but I couldn’t resist including it here. Indulge me.)

The more I read about this show and the harder I look, the more I think that hardly anything is there on accident. All these easter eggs must have been included on purpose. The creators knew they were telling a love story all along.

I’ve linked to the posts where I initially saw people point these out or to other good sources, and for some of these I’ve added my own commentary/observations/interpretations. I’m sure there are many other easter eggs that I’ve missed! What have you spotted?

John’s PIN in TBB – When John tries to pay for his groceries at the beginning of the episode, we see that his PIN is 743. In ASIB, Irene’s code to unlock her phone is SHER, which would be 7437 on a phone keypad. So, John’s PIN is a clue that he is or will be in love with Sherlock. Source: @loudest-subtext-in-tv, here.

Shaftesbury Avenue, 20m from Piccadilly Circus in TBB – While investigating in Chinatown, Sherlock and John bump into each other at what used to be a cruising spot for gay men in London. Source: @the-signs-of-two, here.

Archer the American in ASIB – In the scene where the American CIA agents try to get Sherlock to open Irene’s safe, the head CIA agent pressures Sherlock by threatening to have one of his men shoot John. The agent says: “Mr. Archer, on the count of three, shoot Dr. Watson.” Ordering someone named “Archer” to shoot John could be a reference to Arthur Conan Doyle’s poem “The Blind Archer,” which is about Cupid and describes Cupid shooting two men who sound an awful lot like Sherlock and John. Source: couldntpossiblycomment, here.

“¿Dónde Estás, Yolanda?” in TEH – The song that plays during the scene with John and Sherlock’s disastrous reunion at the Landmark restaurant is a cover of the song “¿Dónde Estás, Yolanda?” performed by the band Pink Martini. The Spanish lyrics to this song are about searching for a long-lost lover, which is fitting for the scene where John sees Sherlock again for the first time since his fall. Notably, the creators didn’t use the first of the two versions of this song that Pink Martini has released. The band’s first version appears on their 1997 studio album Sympathique and features a man singing about a woman. Instead of using that version, the creators used the version from Pink Martini’s 2011 compilation album A Retrospective, in which China Forbes performs most of the vocals. So, the creators deliberately chose a remade version of the song in which a woman sings about a woman. They chose a gay song about searching for a long-lost lover for Sherlock and John’s reunion. abrae (@tea-and-liminality on tumblr) has a meta with more to say about the use of this song here.

John’s “oscillation on the pavement” in TEH – In TSOT, John observes a potential client standing outside 221B and trying to make up her mind as to whether to come in. Sherlock tells John “I’ve seen those symptoms before. Oscillation on the pavement always means there’s a love affair.” In the previous episode, John came to visit Sherlock at 221B but hesitated on the pavement outside, staring at the door and trying to decide whether to go in. Sherlock’s comment, “I’ve seen those symptoms before,” is a hint that we, the audience, have also seen those symptoms before—with John in the previous episode. Source: @bidoctor, here. (I saw someone else point out that last part about Sherlock’s hint to the audience, but I can’t find that post, sorry!)

Lilac dresses in TSOT – While planning John and Mary’s wedding, Sherlock chooses lilac-colored dresses for the bridesmaids. When John tells Sherlock that he likes the bridesmaids in purple, Sherlock pointedly corrects him by stating that the dresses are lilac. Apparently, “In Victorian times, giving a lilac meant that the giver is trying to remind the receiver of a first love.” So by dressing the bridesmaids in lilac, Sherlock is trying to remind John of his first love: himself, Sherlock. My heart breaks. Source: @asherlockstudy, here.

Putting the horns on Mary and Janine in TSOT and HLV – In TSOT, there’s a shot where Mary gives Sherlock and John a thumbs up before they head out on a case. The way Mary is standing, the horns on Sherlock’s cow skull thing on the wall behind her are placed right over her head. (I always thought this shot looked pretty weird, but now I see that it must have been intentional!) In the HLV scene with Janine at 221B, there’s a moment when Janine steps in front of John in the frame to kiss Sherlock, and her movement positions the horns right over her head. “Putting the horns” on someone means cheating on them. So in both cases, placing the horns right above Mary’s and Janine’s heads indicates to the audience that Sherlock and John are the real relationship in this show. Source: this post from multiple users on the @sherlockmeta blog.

The architecture of Sherlock’s mind palace in HLV – In the mind palace scene after Mary shoots Sherlock, the architecture of Sherlock’s mind palace is based on locations from ASIP. Sherlock literally built his mind palace out of places from his first case with John, illustrating that his relationship with John is what grounds him and that it means everything to him. abrae has some very helpful screencaps of this here (and I would recommend that whole meta, btw!)

The glasshouse scene in TAB – In TAB, the Victorian John tries to ask Sherlock about his sexuality and sexual history while they’re sitting in a glasshouse. In Victorian Britain, “glasshouse” was another term for a military prison. So John, a military veteran, asks Sherlock about his sexuality in a setting that represents where he would have been sent if he had acted upon his homosexual desires at a time when homosexuality was criminalized. Source: @haffieliesel, here.

What do we say about coincidences? The universe is rarely so lazy.

[chipperchemical]

i made my own Life Series iceberg :)

this takes some entries from a few other icebergs i've seen around, plus a few of my own additions! i hope it's all accurate and in vaguely the correct order

here's an explanation for every entry:

LAYER ONE:

Grian owns the series: The Life Series was created by Grian, and he gets final say on all decisions relating to it.

The Helmet Rule: Lifers are not allowed to wear helmets during the series, both so other players are more recognisable and as an armour debuff.

Traps never work: There's a running pattern of traps often failing throughout all of the seasons, for a variety of reasons.

Scar's abs: There's some kind of correlation between how many lives Scar has lost and how much clothing his Minecraft skin loses.

5AM Pearl: The name commonly given to Pearl on her Red life, especially in Double Life.

Scar's Enchanter obsession: Scar almost always tries to steal the enchanting table for himself.

LAYER 2:

Secret soulmates: Refers to Grian and BigB's secret alliance during Double Life.

"SCAR NO!!!": Grian's catchphrase throughout the entire series.

Etho's skin never changes: Despite other Lifers using colour-coded or custom skins, Etho never changes his.

Jimmy's Canary Curse: Canaries are often bought down into mines to detect carbon monoxide or other harmful chemicals in the air; once the canary dies, it's a sign that there is danger in the mine. Jimmy's curse is that when he dies in the series, chaos and danger follows very soon after.

Ranchers' Revenge: The name of the Warden that Tango and Jimmy summoned to get revenge on Scar in Double Life.

All wooden structures will burn: The Lifers love arson.

LAYER 3:

Joel was Shrek: Joel's old Minecraft skin used to be Shrek, and his current skin is just a humanised version.

Pufferish of Peace: The misspelled name of the pufferfish that Grian offered Jimmy and Scott to form an alliance in Third Life.

"Go home. Go.": The words that Tango says to the viewer at the end of Double Life.

Skizz's nicknames: Skizz gives a lot of nicknames to his fellow Lifers, most famously Dippledop for Impulse or Jiggles for Jimmy.

Timmy is Jimmy: Some Lifers call Jimmy "Timmy" and can cause great confusion among the others, most notable in Last Life when Impulse thought he had been calling Jimmy by the wrong name all season.

Cupid Skizz: A headcanon that began in Double Life which claims that Skizz was the invisible force that drew the soulmates together, and is an angel/Cupid.

Crastle as a euphemism: In Third Life, Bdubs' Crastle was often called small and was joked about as a non-PG euphemism.

Easy mode left on: According to Martyn, almost every series has had the incorrect difficulty at the beginning. Most notable in Last Life, where the server was set to Easy mode instead of Hard.

LAYER 4:

Tango's rage: The moments after Bdubs' betrayal kill (Last Life) and the Ranch burning down (Double Life) in which Tango snaps.

EvilAnvil: Youtube Fancreator who creates songs based on each series, using vocal snippets of the Lifers as lyrics.

Ariosor11: Youtube Fancreator who creates videos summarising the alliances and relationships in the Life Series.

Grian's Widow Curse: Grian's allies or teammates always die before him, sometimes to his hands.

Watchers: Originally from Evo, the Watchers are a group of overruling beings who run the Life Series, effectively forcing the players to fight to the death over and over for their own enjoyment. This narrative is only apparent through Martyn's POV. This is not canon and, in Martyn's words, is more similar to a Life Series AU.

Martyn is always a traitor: In every season, Martyn betrays (or plans to betray) his closest allies.

LAYER 5:

Terry: No-one knows who Terry is. (BigB's alter-ego in Last Life when he goes into witness protection.)

Scitties: A specific image of Scar's Minecraft character, standing shirtless and with a... modified chest.

Scar's crystals actually worked: Theory with data behind it which poses that Scar's magical crystals in Last Life had a genuine effect on the player holding them.

Scott hates the Watchers: A common belief due to Scott's reluctance to kill anyone when he was chosen as the Boogeyman in Last Life. He defies the will of the Watchers, possibly out of hatred.

All winners are soulmates: All of the Life Series winners up to Real Life have been soulmates in Double Life -- Grian and Scar, Scott and Pearl, and Martyn and Cleo

LAYER 6:

"Winter is over, Spring has begun.": The phrase that Martyn planned to say after betraying Ren in Third Life after the battle of Dogwarts. It never came to fruition due to Ren and Martyn both dying in the battle.

Second Life: The original name for Limited Life which could not be used due to copyright concerns.

Listeners: A group of beings who are the opposition to the Watchers and are trying to free the Lifers.

The Full Moon Curse: Once any Lifer has pointed out that there's a full moon, the rest of the session is doomed to be tragic.

LAYER 7:

Scar's off-screen death: A cut death from Third Life which involved Scar being killed by Martyn. This was cut from the series due to it feeling awkward and not right.

Jimmy is a Listener: A theory that spawned due to the Listeners' interest and use of Jimmy during Evo. This also links with the theory that Jimmy purposefully goes out first every series to defy the Watchers as a refusal to play the game correctly.

HONOURABLE MENTIONS:

Mumbo is a Vampire: I didn't include this because it's more of a Hermitcraft thing than Life Series, but it's a fun headcanon. It stems from (I believe?) Season 7, when Mumbo's skin changed to be very pale.

Grian is a Watcher: This just tied in too much to the Watcher entry, and I felt that "Jimmy is a Listener" was more interesting.

thanks for reading!! <3

[respectthepetty]

The colors are coloring in the ninth episode of Break Up Service as Black Brooder Boss stands in front of the red wall that the broken picture of his business partner's failed relationship hangs on while he casually rests between his love interest and the guy she is dating.

The team is tasked with defeating Destiny, but in their attempt to take on Cupid, Boss learns a few things about the red (his job) and yellow (Jued).

Because when it comes to the couple they need to break up, the yellow and red are still there in small ways, but which will win?

Sidenote: I'm heartbroken the show opted for a European-style tea service now that I know what a Thai-style tea setup could be. Nobody wants those busted cucumber sandwiches, dried scones, and crusty macarons! Give the people golden thread! It would've aligned even better with the color coding!

But it doesn't matter because as much as Black Brooder Boss tries to ruin the couple's happiness with his company's evil tactics, he can't seem to win.

And it's because Heavenly Human Cupid came prepared for this fight.

She, with the other Heavenly Humans, explains that her company saw the potential in Bee and decided to invest in him.

Because even angels have to lie sometimes.

So it's officially a battle between Destiny and Break Up Service or in this case, good versus evil.

Which means Boss runs to Blue Boy Oat to help him sort out his feelings regarding the red and the yellow.

Did I forget to mention that Oat is a loyal and stable Blue Boy? Because he is!

So as a Blue Boy, he tells Boss he is standing too long without making a move, so he needs to move on, but he isn't just talking about the pool game.

Black Brooder Boss is the lightest he has ever been but he needs to pick: red (his job) or yellow (Jued).

Boss picks his job and shows up with Rose in red to complete the mission, and these name keep giving me EVERYTHING!

And knowing that Tee picked out the pink-ish dress Jued wears is interesting because if I wasn't against Tee, I would think he was part of Destiny attempting to bring Boss and Jued together.

But Heavenly Human Cupid seems to be the only one working hard to keep a couple together here, yet she is outnumbered by the Break Up Service.

And just when she thinks she sealed the deal, a red pot shows up in her perfectly planned date to indicate that evil has won.

Rose lives up to her name and color by being the thorn in Cupid's side.

Because Cherry, surrounded by warm yellow lights, realizes it's too late to make this relationship work.

And Bee sadly does too. He waited too long to be what Cherry needed, and now the love they had was lost. Maybe he needed a Blue Boy best friend named Oat to push him along?

The team celebrates the break up in their newly decorated office which serves as the perfect setting for a reflective moment.

Because Yellow Yal Jued with the yellow lights in the background is realizing she is feelings emotions she wasn't aware of before this moment.

And even though Boss is speaking to Rose, he is covered by the yellow lights that show he is thinking of Jued.

So when Jued safely wakes up after drinking too much in an attempt to drown her newly emerging feelings, she assumes Tee took her home and tucked her in after quickly washing her.

But the black frames and the red bike on the shelf tell us that this is work of another man.

And in a beautifully shot scene, Boss finally reflects on everything that happened this episode and decides he doesn't want to miss his opportunity to be with the person who is right in front of him.

SO HE CONFESSES!!!!

Which allows Jued to return fully to her true color.

And gives the perfect entrance into next episode where we get to see the other (yellow) half of his business partner's failed relationship.

This will also allow us to see how this man became so red that he dedicated his entire life to breaking up other people while Black Brooder Boss lingers in the background.

This is going to be delightful!

[help-an-alter]

INTRO

Hello! Welcome to our blog.

blog is for fragments, by fragments.

THIS BLOG SUPPORTS PALESTINE!

THE MODS!

Creator (alters listed);

anything with a ".here" at the end of the name is the creator (the one who came up with this!!)

S (Any pronouns)

55 (Any xenos or he/it.)

RAINBOW (Any, preferably feminine but they dont mind)

Rs (He/him)

A (masculine pronouns of any sort.)

J (he/they)

Red (Any masculine pronouns)

Some have chosen to hide their real name, and instead use a code name. --------

Other mods here!!! (create a template of your own if you want)

mod cupid / mod 💘

Bitter (they/them)

Adorerine (she/he/they/it/love++)

Cherie (she/it/mew)

Mimi (she/needle)

(that's all the alters we know are gonna help sometimes)

--------

jinx / helena / mortuary [they/them]

sayona [she/they]

ven [he/him]

ari [it/she/glitch/pop+]

ithaca [fog/they] -----

Oz (they/them)

Lei (they/any)

Cog (he/him)

G (he/they)

Sol (he/they)

Boo (she/her)

On this blog we will collectively go by Shiver (they/them), some of the alters helping out have stayed anon with fake names! -------

Sprout (He/Him)

Mousey (She/They/Adore)

Other alters might pop in but it’s mainly these two!

-------

Hi, I'm Mod Celestia (System)! We use any pronouns (including neos and xenos) :3

I can't guarantee alters will do sign offs but they might, and if so they'll probably do their name then .cel

Some alters who will likely help this blog are

Anne Marie (she/ghost/blood/fire/wing/death)

Niki (she/they/it)

Row (they/it/he/xe/paw/fern/allium/hydrangea/hyacinth)

Draculaura (she/they/fang/bat/blood)

Collei (she/vi/bloom/pain)

-------

rapture/ajaw (he/rapture/it)

all alters from our system will have a .crow on the end of their name, but expect to see me more than anyone.

-------

Mod FireFly/Mod Lupin (it/fae/xe/they)

Zero/Oliver/Maveryck (he/it/creach)

Ronin/Butcher (he/it)

RagDoll/BabyDoll (he/she)

We most likely won't be specifying which alter is posting the requests!

-------

mod 💫 (hy/dae/they) we will mainly be posting as one on here, so no need to worry abt alter names or anything :)

-------

mod niki (they/them)

probably wont have alters do individual sign offs, but if they do, it will be “__ of niki” !

-------

↓ more under the cut! ↓

wowweeeee is that an anon list!?!!?

DNI:

supporters of Endos or any non disordered 'systems'

any non disordered 'systems'

people who see this as build an alter. its different. read the FAQ

Pedos, zoophiles, anti furries, anti regression, anti system in general.

Syscourse

Racists, Zionists, pro-israel

Pro r/systemscringe

Sophieinwonderland (she cant follow dnis so thats why shes here)

FAQ

"What is "Help an Alter?"

You know that really ableist "build an alter"? yea? its like THAT, but for fragmented alters with no sense of identity. We do not build alters, we help them find themself.

"I have a question!!"

Questions can be directed to our inbox.

"syscourse blah blah"

Syscourse is NOT welcome on this blog.

"Im an endo and..."

Endos are also not welcome.

"Whats your main blog?"

We aren't comfortable with sharing.

"Are you hiring?"

Not at the moment, we have enough mods :)

-- END OF QUESTIONS --

Thanks for the questions !

Special thank yous: @syscultureis and their followers for helping us find the name, @anti-endo-safe-space for being so comforting with your messages, @anti-endo-polyfragculture for being so epic and inspiring us, all of our main blog mutuals for supporting us (you know who you are!!), @systemterms for being so helpful, @syspport for the awesome userbox (shown at the end!!) and everyone else!

[the-creatured]

Introducing, Qx93vt my OC.

For @that-willowtree and @vessel-eternal

I will update and edit this post with any information I remember. Vixen, feel free to leave a comment on something to change or DM me.

Name: Qx93vt

Nicknames: Q or Qx

Species: Humanoid Robot/Android

Pronouns: he/him or they/them

Sexuality: Technically pansexual

Status: Married to his wife Cupid (Vixen's OC)

Age: 34 active years (born 1991)

Likes: His inventor's house, the mans clothes, his wife, his fish, and his dog.

Dislikes: a failed invention, when people assume he is AI driven. DOD (more on that later)

Backstory: An engineer's kid was given some nonfunctional devices at age 13, one of which, was an old analog TV. He experimented with circuit boards, he crossed the right wires and eventually it turned on. The more time this kid spent working on it, the more it awoke. He was given a voice from an old radio speaker and other parts, then a face that was coded into his screen, emotions, a body, arms, legs. Soon, he was walking and talking. By the time the inventor had reached his late 30s, he had worked around a ton of dangerous materials, but had worked on advancing Q to the fullest extent. He was given a full functional body, a spare body, a positronic brain that was coded to learn and love. In the inventors last years, Q had taken up all household work so he could work on his inventions all the time and put his energy into them. He had sold most of his inventions and gained a fortune for his patents. He passed away and left Q with the house, his car, and the entire fortune. The government, when realizing Q had lived for years beforehand without the inventors main help and maintained the household. Granted him his own offical citizenship and was recognized as an independent self sustaining intelligent machine.

Later in his life, he met Cupid. Of course, the details arent fuzzy for him. But until I can come up with the full story pretend its a cute meet and they go on many dates and fall in love and marry. They have rings, her's a simple but very pretty golden ring with a diamond. His, a single smooth golden band.

Physical appearance: this is quite difficult because I haven't drawn his actual body underneath his clothes. He has a sleek toned build, it's smooth metal plates that interlock and layer to make joints and a smooth surface. A TV for a head, and very intricate hands. (Of course over the years, he advanced himself.) His most proud inventions for himself has been, a heartbeat that is uniquely his own, an internal heater so he's not freezing to the touch, his own program to make him learn like a human, a tasting mechanic, and a removable attachment for the wife. (Originally his inventor gave it to him but it wasnt detachable and he was very disturbed by this.)

He has a full manual with instructions for anything that could ever happen to him, for his wife. Its a very heavy and concise book, detailing how to jailbreak his system all to how to dry his screen off. Also includes a section on DOD and Qs warning signs. (more on that later)

His body is quite strong, resilient, water proof, fast, and can taste using a small sample tray at the bottom of his screen. (Because his wife cooks and bakes all the time and it would be unfair if he could never taste it)

He wears the same clothes daily apart from a few holiday or fancy outfits. His daily outfit consists of, a pale yellow long sleeve button down, grey slacks, a white waistcoat, and a busy tie. (He doesnt sweat so he doesn't need to change his outfit.)

The big bad!! (Because I can't have a sunshine character without giving them a horrible dark side and traumatic yearly experience with it!!)

DOD.exe: Digital Occulistic Disease.

This random code, segment of files, group of malware, came about when he first was just starting to learn and teach himself about 5 years after first awakening. His inventor didn't make it, program it, he didnt know it was on the circuit boards. Its a malicious entity that lives in the code and feeds off of the emotions the host feels.

Though mostly inactive and dormant, there is random occurances where he takes over the host body, goes into the memories. Finds the object most desired or adored by the host, and becomes utterly obsessed with them. Will do ANYTHING in its power to see that person, be near, get validation or just attention from it. If the object of obsession does not fully mirror the emotions, DOD will become violent, aggressive, and dangerous towards that person.

Often time Q will know when DOD has taken over, he is often awake for all of it and cannot do much. He cannot overpower him without help. The most he can do is make physical appearance different. He can control the screen somewhat, in his manual, he has the codes and systems he uses written out. The most common screen codes he uses to alert outsiders that the body is dangerous are. Flashing the screen quickly, black and white, for a strobe effect. Making eyes appear all over the screen, making huge text or pop up windows that warn the person. Often big red text that says "RUN".

DOD can change the screen but it takes a considerable amount of effort for him to do so, so he doesnt. He doesnt feel emotions, he doesnt understand humans, he doesnt care. He knows two things, obsession, and frustration. He can manipulate electricity in his hands and use that as a weapon. The body itself posseses incredible strength and speed.

First made: 6/9/2025

Last updated: 6/9/2025

[koneko48]

My killua analysis and why he's coded as a gay character

So it's been a while since i've been thinkin' bout this and I actually think talk abt killua must be a pretty good idea since i really love his story and how loved by the lgbtq+ communuty he is ;P

First I got a question for you: if you already have watched Hunter x Hunter what do you think about Killua ? I mean, think about it, there is three possibilities:

You are straight ( or you think so ) and for you it's just a guy who's got a pretty sad backstory,

You're gay and don't even care abt Killua becauz idk... maybe you're crazy maybe you're not i don't really care btw

You are homosexual ( i change the word haha ) and you reaaaaaaaaaally like Killua, i mean to say, that you see yourself in he's story or/and character, or becauz he is certainly gay, or becauz he is hypersensitive or becauz he's afraid to loose his friends ( you don't have to be gay for the last two points btw ).

Do y'all see what I'm trying to tell ?

Killua is very dear to the comunuty and I check on all the social media i could find so you can trust me by the way... ( i'm I really using that much "btw" ? )

Physical appearance.

So.... it's a thing i noticed really early in the manga but... Killua kinda looks like a girl ????!!!

And I'm not kidding actually, and especially for this pic i think it's weird to look like this in a shonen manga.

Nah, I trolled you ! i'ts very common to got androgynous characters in japanese things.

Now I got a real argument: Killua is inspired by two characters: Mariya and Maraich Justenfer ( idk remember bruh ). And, oooo surprise ! they are both from romance mangas one of them is a BL character.

Mariya from Tende shōwaru kyūpiddo.

Mariya is one of the many characters Togashi wrote/draw. She's from his first jump named Tende shōwaru kyūpiddo ( An Ill-tempered Cupid in Heaven). This comic is pretty weirdo actually and i didn't read it ( I just read some excerpts ^^ ). When i say it's weirdo i really mean it. Okay so, it's a romantic comedy and it was realased in 1990. The main character, Ryūji Koinobori, 15 y/o is the son of a mobster. I'm not telling the whole plot becauz it's not what wer're for, but just keep in mind that he is the embodiment of innocence, while Mariya is... kind of... ykwim

This is them:

I think Togashi must have had a mental change in his vision of women along the way. becauz YuYu Hakusho and HxH are definitly not the same vibe... ( maybe Naoko slap him after they get married... ?)

I think ryuji kinda lookalike gon....

Sooooooo, now you're probably thinkin' why am I talknin abt an old fashion jump.... and it's becauz of this.

credits for @killugon_hxh on X

I see no differences...

Also Mariya and Killu got a commun point with snakes. One again, i didn't read it

Maraich Jushenfe. from Patalliro! .

Maraich is one of the three protagonists of a BL manga named Patalliro!

He is canonically gay and he is dating Bancoran, the body guard of the 8th prince, Patalliro.

Okay, but who exactly is this "Maraich" ?

He is a killer (ahum, professional killer), 18 y/o and he was supposed to kill bancoran becauz his former boyfriend told him, but at least he fell in love with the guy he was supposed to kill. Maraich has a ferocious temper and seethes with jealousy whenever a bishōnen is in Bancoran's vicinity. Okay, ummm the next is super sad....

So, when he was young his parents died and the poor lil kid was sent to an orphanage. Here he didn't got any friends but one, named Sherman, who was older ( I'm NOT writing the following.... definitly). In short, Sherman was very mean with him and was hitting him every day... and young Maraich was thinkin it was love.. he finally escaped and was rescued by some weird guy who taught him all the techniques of assassination. Next he meet bancoran and blablabla...

So if you're good at where's Waldo, you must've seen commun features with killua, like:

they both are killer (ahum, ex-killer)

they both fell in love with the main character ( killugon canon )

they both grew up thinkin love was painfull ( omg i'm cryin' they deserve the world uuuh).

Androgyny ?

Boy's love characters.

For those who didn't know, a BL manga (boy's love) is a romance between two boys/men.

I personally think that Killua is inspired by BL. And ther's multiple reason i think it:

Moon theme coded

androgynous ( a lil bit)

he's got a lot of clothes ( it's a usual thing in shoujos and boy's love)

long eyelashes

white hair ( in japanese traditions white hair is a meaning of deep beauty and ... idk )

calm

i'm not gonna lie, he's quite handsome (also commun with romance manga)

aaaa i find it quite cliche about gay people but Killua really got a lot of "gay characters" things... i cannot explain sash mash definitly do it better

he shows feelings

other I forgot for sure haha.

Okay, so now i'm gonna talk about

The psychological code

Killua's plot is very sobbing and beautiful at the same time and i like this. One of the strangest thing i noticed about his story, it's how it's like a story where the hero understands his sexuality ( don't start imagine s:a things please...) . Like in movies or comics, webtoons, series ... you'll understand.

The way he thinks he's a monster.

So, Killua grew with the idea he was a killer he was a monster he couldn't love anyone and nobody would love him.

If you don't wanna cry, skip this part... I warned you...

Actually this story got similarities with the story of every queer people. The way he think everybody would left him because of who he is.... It's clearly inspired by a real story of homosexual, bisexual, pansexual, transgender person. When you want to throw away this feature in your head... oh glad you can't see me right now haha . this is why i hate homophobic people.

Another point is when he is crying in front of Rammot and saying that "gon is my best friend" "my dearest friend" more and more ... he keep saying this and to me it quite sounds like a denial

And after that he removed Illumi's noodle and was able to see and do things by himself. So, he realized he was gay ( in love with Gon hehe ).

that was all for the part one !!!!! hehe hope you liked it !!!! i'm now writing the second part and it will be a lot of killugon there haha

thanks for reading!!!!-

[idlerin]

love sick — profiles: ppl who think love sucks + [name]

masterlist — inarizaki dogs | episode one

[name] has been invested in finding “the one” ever since she was little. this was mostly influenced by her parents who were so deeply in love that taught her to seek the kind of love she deserved to have. it became worse when she was 12 and was exposed to the world of romance books, you could say she loved love.

[name] has a sort of “love guru” business going on, except she’s unpaid. it all started during first year, where she helped a guy from her media literacy class named akaashi keiji confess to his long-time crush who was their senior, bokuto koutaro. the confession went well and they ended up dating, bokuto teased his friend to get advice from you and in his words “maybe your crush would like you back” (the response of said friend was “don’t call it a crush, what are we, highschoolers?”).

[name] did end up giving good advice and bokuto’s friend eventually started dating the “crush”. a rumor started spreading that [name] was real-life cupid and a bunch of people started reaching out to her to ask for help. it became such a big deal that [name] ended up creating an email for them to send their love-related concerns (in it, she mentions that to keep in mind her acads come first!).

the mini “business” ended up being a hit and she developed many nicknames in the process, like “resident cupid” and “campus sweetheart”.

[name] is a 2nd year student along with atsumu while kiyoko and semi are 3rd years and kageyama is a 1st year.

[name], kiyoko, and semi are childhood friends (but kiyoko and semi are older than [name] by a year), they lived on the same street, so they’ve practically known each other forever. they all went to the same junior high but split up in senior high school, kiyoko went to karasuno while [name] and semi went to shiratorizawa. this meant it was harder for them to meet kiyoko constantly, [name] and semi had to dorm within campus because they lived a bit far from the school itself.

[name] met kageyama when she went to one of the volleyball tournaments and kiyoko introduced them to each other. they instantly hit it off ([name] found him adorable and so “little brother coded”) because of [name] being so talkative (kageyama kept thinking how she acted so much like hinata).

[name] and atsumu became friends the summer before the start of the first semester, while [name] was moving in to her new dorm. it was very much a meet ugly because atsumu accidentally splashed his drink on [name]’s brand new sweater (and his first reaction was to flirt with her), [name] responds by saying it was alright and ignored his attempts. atsumu became curious and not long after they realized they were assigned to the same hall! (you have no escape now).

atsumu soon realizes the two of you had too similar personalities and became partners in crime. then you soon figure out your lives were more interconnected than you thought (he knew kageyama). you don’t know since when has your life been surrounded by volleyball (you were always the most unathletic person in the room).

it was only until all of your worlds collide one saturday morning where you accidentally make plans with all of them all at once (you were out of it because you stayed up late responding to love advice emails) that they all became friends too (semi and atsumu instantly hit it off, kiyoko is civil with everyone, kageyama was still in miyagi).

you, you were just happy everything in your life was falling into place just the way you like it!

until of course, suna rintarou came into the picture. none other than atsumu’s friend you don’t acknowledge and the name constantly found in the emails you receive.

love sick ! a suna rintarou social media au

synopsis. cupid! calling cupid! as the resident matchmaker slash hopeless romantic of tokyo university, you are the person people look for to get love advice or to set them up with the love of their lives. when suna rintarou comes to you asking for the opposite, to help fend people away from trying to get with him, to the extremes of even asking to fake date you, you couldn't refuse! mostly because you did owe him since he was on the receiving end of a bunch of your clients’ unsuccessful love efforts (hey, you do warn them your matchmaking only has a 62.3% success rate).

a/n — belated happy valentines everyone! (still valentines for some people tho i think) i hope you guys has a nice day :)

taglist is OPEN ! + @yas-mjm @agirlwholovesalot @yenqa @fairywriter-oracle @noideawhothatis @renardiererin @cheezitwh0re @zephestia @nicerthanu @wolffmaiden @2baddies-1porsche @bluegrey02 @qualitygiantshoepsychic @lylovw @fo-love @cloudsvna @apinu @coyloves @rockleeisbaeeee @geombyu @girlkissersco @reveusecherie @erenjvegerrr @rintarousgirl @ris-krispie @kamikokii @complexivelovely @hearts4faey @yuzurins @eleanorheartschishiya @hearts4itoshi @justsomeonewhoyoudontknow @rijhi @sleepystrwbrryy @snail-squasher @seiamor @wave2love @le000xxgrd @iuspired @theidontknowmehn @linmabbe @rntrsuna @skomiomi @tenaciouswritersheep @i-am-l0ved

to those i can not tag, kindly change your mentions settings thank you!

note: this is not the whole taglist, it’s been a year since i posted the masterlist to love sick and there may be people who don’t want to be in it anymore so i’ve only tagged those who confirmed they still want to be in the taglist through this post by liking or commenting as i don’t want to bother people! hehe

[venusianbarbiedoll]

—MY SUPERHERO ORIGIN STORY

I am the daughter of Aphrodite and a mortal man named Eduardo Valencia. I was raised by my father since my mother couldn’t take care of me, seeing that she’s a goddess and all. We lived in Starling City and I went to school there. He wasn’t the best dad considering he was always at work. But he was all I had.

We used to live in Central City where my best friends were Wally and his cousin, Jack, also lived up until I was eight years old and then we moved to Starling City. The reason why we left was because my Dad got a job offer in a construction company. It paid a bit more so we moved.

I lived with him until I was twelve years old. That was when Count Vertigo murdered him by injecting him with his drug. Following this, I stayed with my Mom on Mount Olympus for the next few years. I was shocked to hear that Zeus was allowing her to take me in, but incredibly grateful as well. During that time, she taught me more about my powers and magic. It also gave me the opportunity to learn more about my celestial heritage and family. I bonded with my relatives like Apollo, Hestia, Artemis, Aphrodite (of course), etc. It was amazing but eventually I had to go back to Earth.

After returning, I decided to avenge my father's death by battling criminals and investigating his killer. I adopted the code name Cupid in honor of my mother, the goddess of love. While I occasionally use a bow and arrow, my primary weapons are daggers.

my weapons:

At the age of fourteen, while thwarting a robbery, Black Canary and Green Arrow found me and offered their assistance. They asked me who my parents were. When I told them that I had none, they took me in.

Through them, I met Roy and, eventually, my future best friend, Artemis. They trained me, and I joined the new team for the “sidekicks” alongside Robin, Kaldur, and Wally. Although Roy didn't join the team, we maintained contact and he was always kind to me, like an older brother.

It wasn’t too long after joining the team that pI found out who my father really was. Before he died, he was a villain known as The Prowler and he worked for horrible people—the same people who were hurting Starling City, the place I called home. I found this out after I met Oliver and Dinah, my adoptive parents.

How did I find out about this? Well, Sportsmaster (Artemis’ dad) let it slip once when I was fighting him. He didn’t know who I was though, not my real identity at least. He was just bringing my father up because he said that I had eyes that resembled his greatly. Well, he said that I had the same eyes as The Prowler technically, not those of Eduardo Valencia as I knew him. But who’s to say that he didn’t know that I was The Prowler’s daughter…?

I haven’t told anyone since finding out. How could anyone trust me if they knew my father was a horrible person who had committed crimes for a living? It shamed me to be related to someone who could do such horrible things. I would just have to keep it to myself in the meantime; but like they say, the truth always comes out, one way or another.

my superhero suits:

my mission suits:

my training suits:

[jkgnggj]

Ok don't know what south park is never seen it sorry but the animals would be easiest but also hardest bc there's just so many u can't just stick to one BUT I TOTALLY AGREE TANUKI FOR TORI IT MAKES FUCKING SENSE and oMG MLP YES YESSS FUCK YEAH tho would Akechi be twilight? Would Miko be pinky or rarity? No TERU would be rarity probs. Maybe shuns twilight? Nah... do u think Tori gives spike vibes. And saiki can be twilight? Ughh so many optionssss OMG FLAME PRINCESS AND FINN AS TORISAI YESS they were my faves before yk and yeah Miko def lsp do u think shun would like Marcy or marshal ? I think aren's more marshal tho

OMG THE TAGS YES TOTAL DRAMA I LOVE THAT SHOW SM ITS LIKE MY SECOND BIGGEST BRAINROT EVER I think everyone would force Tori to get Zeke bc... bc he's hated by all idfk oh and akechi would be forced to get Stacy bc she talks a lot idk or maybe Harold pfft. Ooo blainely for teru or JUSTIN!! maybe saiki would be Topher or Chris or Justin maybeeee OH NENDOU IS SO OWEN CODES HOLY FUCK oh and saiki can be Noah bc of their blond best buddies and uhm they're sarcastic and snarky and sassy I love noah and saiki so much u dont understand. Hmm maybe teru could be Courtney but I think they're too fundamentally different yk (plus I love Courtney too much </3) hmm maybe aren and Duncan but Duncan's like not that nice so it'd conflict with Aren hmmm. OH SHUN CAN BE DJ PFFT so soft WAIT NO HED BE UH WHATS HIS NAME LEONARD BC HES A LARPER PFFT oh wait TERU and heather??? Hmm it fits better than Courtney but it's still not quite it... oh wait can nendou be Lindsay ? Lindsey? He's better as Owen but Lindsay's an airhead blond which sorta fits ig (ig Owen didn't exist). Would mera be Izzy? Pfft or maybe mera is a lil bit of Owen too...

thinking about the saiki k girls with matching trademark vocaloids, as in they all assign each other as a vocaloid and get matching keychains, shirts, etc.

kokomi miku, kuriko luka, chisato teto (idc that shes not a vocaloid), chiyo meiko, mikoto gumi, imu rin or neru? also not technically vocaloid but hush

OH UNLESS WE WANNA INCLUDE SUZUMIYA ??? MY BELOVED ?? then hii would get gumi and maybe miko would get neru

[sparklearchive]

apologies if you’ve no idea for either of these but- do you know who faerie bread’s original owner was??? Also does anyone have that one piece an ex-clown shared of kittycorn’s childhood friends au?? It had art of kid Barry, Caroline, Hemera, Jay, Kiki, Polly, Orange & Jean, apparently Uni, Doom & Mood were there too but op didn’t share that art. I believe the clown was whoever made the sparklecare hex color code archive. Their original url had something to do with Funfetti but for the life of me I can’t remember

the childhood friends au art is unknown to me but the designs can be found here

here’s a list of all sparkle/comet characters that originally weren’t made by kitty (that we know of)!

Caroline Snezhana Coughs - Spacey

Hemera Olle Philly - Louise

Jay Find Fortune - Jay

Rebecca “Bec” Light - Jude

Jandy Jane - Charlie (not chimera)

Scratch N. Shniff - Donnie

Pepper - Cinnamon

Polaris “Polly” Amry Klepsky - Carmen

Finnegan “Finn” Fevers - Cupid

Reese Trent - Sen

Kiki Pilaris - Cinnamon

Orange U. Glad - Casey/Shrubbyfrog

Jean Errie - Chaos

Chipsky “Chip” Fresh - Jay

Shekann T. Sea - Jay

Mel N. Colly - Donnie

Arthur “Archy” Righteous - Charlie (not chimera)

Cyn Dherr - Donnie

Mood - Created by KC, idea by Chaos

Doom - Created by KC, rat-spider motif proposed by Wolf during the preboot

Rem Elle Dies - Chaos

Boxa Caken Funfetti - Charlie (not chimera)

Brake No Harts - Jane

Lovella Puppy - Donnie

Lee Pinata Heere- Charlie (not chimera)

Stephann Snare - (unknown)

Samani “Sammy” Kills - (unknown)

Mary Shortnick - Charlie (not chimera)

Godiva L. Stone - Cinnamon

Suffuzz Incilence - Wolf

Lucy Charm - Cinnamon

Iris - Carmen

Kathy Leet - Chaos

Cedric Coughs - Pj

Jenny “Jen” Orus - Donnie

That big buff wolf guy from the antibody (name unknown) - Donnie

Aiden Repairs - Jay

Honey B. Glad - Casey/Shrubbyfrog

Tebbot - Ollie

ASLI - Casey/Shrubbyfrog

Ally Star Cornelius - (unknown) (apparently not KC)

Wendy “Frosty” Goengetztuff Klepsky - Ame

Chem Mick Ill - Carmen

Chloe Philly - Created by KC, idea by Chaos

Jolly N. Smiley - Created by KC, idea by Chaos

Faerie Bread Confetti - (unknown)

Timmy (Green and pink gator from volume 2)- Cupid

Zimmy (Blue and pink gator from volume 2)- Charlie (not chimera)

Jim Bow (Red and green gator from volume 2) - Casey/Shrubbyfrog

Maddie Jest Dies - Chaos

Mal - Soap

Ame D’nee - Everyone

Susey Peggle - Created by KC, design elements and backstory by Chaos

Jesse T. Dolly - Chaos

Jeanne Anjert - Chaos

Nurse Care - Chaos

Tony Boxx - Created by KC, idea by Chaos

Preboot Exclusive Characters:

Pyro Ignis - Louise

Bark Salot - someone named Audio

Lunesta - perry99 on DeviantART/luckyisdesi on Instagram

Harris Handerson - (unknown)