#happy valentine’s! | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

vinylattes · 1 year

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Paying attention to things... it's how we show love.

bill & frank + their love language, act of service

#the last of us hbo #bill and frank #nick offerman #murray bartlett #tlouedit #*long long time (01x03)#typography #blending #overlay #otpsource #dakotasvibe #userligaya #happy valentine’s!#this will be the last set i swear (lying)

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spearofalu · 2 months

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A day dedicated to love was one she had no time to pay attention to before, and surely one she had not participated in.

But she saw the significance. Understood the purpose behind it. And she couldn’t say no to chocolates, the round ones with hazelnuts inside were very delicious. No flowers yet, but the energy behind the holiday was a much needed change from all the despair and chaos.

#● mantis ● ic;#happy valentine’s!#hope you all have a good day!

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alucarddear · 1 year

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Dear Alucard, it will soon be February 14th, I have no one to give a gift to, so *holds out her hands to give a small bouquet of roses and looks away, because she is shy* I give you these roses. I think boys can get flowers too *she hands over the bouquet and runs because she is a shy girl*

It warms his heart that people have been choosing to give flowers to him, of all people, on this special occasion.

There’s nothing special about this one in particular. It’s but a small bundle of flowers; simple amongst many extravagant ones he’d been offered today, yet it brings him so much joy.

Alucard accepts the small bouquet, the corners of his mouth perking up.

“Thank you for these; they’re beautiful,” he says, genuinely admiring the rose buds.

“I would have given you something back, but I uh…” he explains, but the girl has already started running away from him.

Oh.

Alucard chuckles. “Well, that’s alright then.”

#sorry it’s late!#happy Valentine’s!#catarsis96 #Alucard rp

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mysteriesofloves · 1 year

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happy valentines! maybe some hints about chapter 5 to celebrate? 👀

how about i do you one better and give you the opening scene? 💝💝💝

The fire is lit when she enters the living room, but she doesn’t remember who started it. The large leather armchair that usually houses the hulking figure of her husband instead hugs her lanky son, softened with sleep. There’s a book open in his lap, but he scrolls on his phone with his eyes half-lidded instead of reading it.

She slides a steaming cup of cocoa onto the table next to him, taking a seat on the couch with one of her own. Henry looks at the cup, and then at her.

“Grandpa’s recipe,” she says. “It’s like how they make it in Paris.”

His brows dip curiously. He shuts the book but keeps his phone gripped in one hand as he takes the cup with the other. “Thanks.”

“We haven’t really talked,” she says. “Since the dance.”

“You’ve been busy.”

“So have you,” she says. Guilt swirls in her stomach. He nods like he knows that, and he’s letting her have this as a consolation.

“Um,” Henry says. She can see his hand going red from the heat. “Are we talking now?”

“We can,” she says. “I mean, I’d like to.”

“Is Dad—?”

“He’s upstairs.”

Henry’s jaw tightens, almost angrily, the resemblance uncanny. Guilt, swirling. He takes a sip from his cup and it lurches in her stomach to tell him that it’s too hot but the words don’t quite make it out.

“How’d it go with Nicky?” she tries.

“It went,” Henry says. She’s trying to figure out how to phrase what she wants to ask next when he continues, “It’s—we’re not. And we didn’t. If that’s what you’re wondering.”

“It’s not,” she says, although she supposes she did want to know. “You told him how you feel?”

“Sort of.”

“And he…doesn’t feel the same way?”

Henry takes a long sip and then says, “He likes someone else.”

“Oh, honey,” she says softly. “I’m sorry. Do you—do you know who?”

Henry hums. “Himself,” he says. “Nicky is—in love with the sound of his own voice saying he doesn’t need anyone.” Henry winces. He rubs a hand over his face. “Can we talk about something else?”

“Do you love him?”

She nearly winces herself. If there was another way to ask that, she didn’t have the strength to find it.

“Can we talk about something else.”

“Okay,” she says, her heart beating too hard in her throat. “You—um, you wrote a paper on Endymion for class?”

“How—“ Henry looks at her, then. All open and curious and startlingly tired. Was she that tired at his age?

Yes, of course. She presses a hot hand to her cheek.

“How’d you know that?”

“Mr. Humphrey told me.”

“Did you read it?”

“No, I—I think he has some kind of student-teacher privilege for that.” She laughs lightly, not all there. “Why that one? I mean, why’d you choose it?”

“I don’t know,” Henry says. “I liked it. It just kind of like, um—Mr. Humphrey says a poem can speak to you so I guess it just spoke to me, like it was—“

“Being etched into the inside of your ribs,” Blair murmurs.

“Um,” says Henry again. He’s looking at her strangely. “That’s kind of a pretentious way of putting it but sure.”

Blair tries to smile but she’s tired, too. “Do you love him?”

Henry looks hurt by the question but she can’t bring herself to take it back, to tell him he doesn’t need to answer. “I don’t think so,” he says finally. “I don’t know. It’s different, so I don’t know.”

“Different than what?”

“Than the poems.”

Blair swallows. Her eyes sting and her stomach swirls and swirls and swirls. “You know Daddy doesn’t care,” she says. “That you’re—“

“Yeah, I know,” Henry says quickly. “That’s not—he just doesn’t think I should get involved.”

“Involved?” she asks.

“Like, emotionally, I guess, with anyone.” Something springs up in Henry’s face suddenly, like a switch being flicked. “‘Cause he doesn’t want me to get hurt, I guess.”

“I guess,” is all Blair can manage to say.

His book and his phone and his now-empty cup are forgotten about. He says in a rush, “Can we go away for Christmas? Like Paris? Or—it doesn’t have to be Paris, we could go to Aspen or Whistler or even the Hamptons, just anywhere but the city.”

“Everyone’s already coming here,” she says. “You love the city at Christmas.”

“No, I know, I just—“ he sighs. “Whatever. It’s fine.”

“It’s going to be okay,” Blair says. Not because it’s true, but because it’s something to say.

#happy valentine’s!#straight from the doc unedited so excuse any typos #itd tag #asks

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terrible-claw-lobster · 3 months

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