#possibly my favorite poem ever

[cultof-aphrodite]

Joy Harjo “Perhaps the World Ends Here”

[crossbackpoke-check]

do you really believe in him? is he a good kid? no problems? you're gonna love him. you're gonna love him.

[prettylambgirl]

My rules for 2024:

Dieting and health: Any weight above 55kg is unacceptable and I will not be living like this anymore

1. The 1200 calories a day is the maximum amount you should ever ingest, aim for 1000 calories. Never restrict too much, however, you have to study and function well in university.

2. The only drinks you are allowed are black coffee, unsweetened tea and diet coke. A plain latte is only allowed on a date or when hanging out with your friends. This should never be done more than twice a week.

3. Take your multivitamins in order to function well and treat your muscular problems.

4. Stretching is to be done every morning, for at least 10 minutes. It is not much, but it helps. You should walk everywhere, however, never let anyone convince you to take the bus when the destination is at a less than 20 minutes of walking distance. Aim for at least 5000 steps a day.

5. Drink 2l of water a day. Being hydrated is especially important for your skin and body.

6. Eat strategically. Only eat before class, before studying, only when you need the energy food provides. Never waste that energy when it's not necessary.

7. Never order fast food again. Learn how to resist the urge to say yes when it's being proposed. Your roommate is skinny, you are not. She can have it, you cannot.

8. You can indulge in some unhealthy things that bring you joy. Your nicotine addiction is manageable - try to replace cigarettes with vape liquid, it is less pricey and makes your room smell better. Slowly decrease the nicotine concentration until you are ready to completely drop it. The occasional wine is accepted, but count the calories in it and don't overindulge. Never are you to be seen in public smoking or drunk, however. Always keep these flaws secret.

Studying: Medical school is hard and demanding, but it is possible to get through it.

1. Any mark under an 8 is deemed unacceptable and you should strive for the better.

2. You know yourself well. Stop trying to mimic the way other people study, use the method you know has worked for you since the beginning. You are smart and capable.

3. Stick to your schedule religiously. Study every single day except for Saturdays. Every subject is to be revised and valued equally.

4. Start studying for examinations one week before it takes place. Strive for the best marks. Complete projects as soon as they are announced.

5. Always take notes, answer questions and be attentive during class. The people who judge you for this are jealous of your intelligence. Never shut up ever again.

6. Volunteering is essential: it gives you bonus points for future Erasmus projects. Therefore, you should attend such events once a month. Do not prioritize it over your studies, however.

Hobbies: You must have a personality and be cultured, besides being smart. Never let anyone see you as boring.

1. Reading is your favorite activity - aim to read 20 pages a day. Read 40 pages in the weekends. Read fashion magazines as well, in order to stay inspired.

2. Writing - on the weekends, try to write something: an article, a poem, some prose, a blogpost, anything you like. Never let that passion fade away.

3. Limit TV shows to 40 minutes per day, watch a movie on the weekend.

4. Go out to see the opera, a museum or an art exposition every month.

5. Stay up to date with the news in the industries that matter to you!!

Personality and Social Life: Things are going great, but they can be improved.

1. Always keep your cool. Never are you to rage in public ever again. People respect you, don't mess this up. You must always wear a confident smile, never show your weak side in public.

2. Be friendly and helpful. Always say hi when walking past someone you know and engage in conversations with your colleagues. However, you are not to overshare with people you do not know well. Keep the conversations going about themselves, not yourself, unless asked about.

3. Help people out whenever you are directly asked for. However, do not overdo it. Put yourself first.

4. Do not talk ill about anyone unless it's with your close friends or significant other. This can be used against you anytime.

5. Never seem too available. Only hang out if your schedule allows you to. Never fall into the trap of "study gatherings" as you know well you function better individually.

6. Keep in touch with your close ones daily. Ask about their day, show them that you care.

7. Hangouts must be limited to twice a week. You must only hang out with your boyfriend once a week. It hurts, but it keeps you both focused on your work.

8. Don't PDA at university, please. This has to stop once and for all. Limit it to hand holding and sitting together at less important courses. Do not show people how needy you are.

9. People who lack certain morals and are not compatible with you from this point of view should not be part of your life. Their negative energy impacts you a lot. Only speak to them if directly approached.

10. Don't be late, it's unacceptable. You must be present 10 minutes before the start of an event.

11. Never are you to be seen in nightclubs or places that may damage your reputation. If it doesn't characterize you to be in that place, stay home. Do not fear missing out on anything, you already saw enough.

12. Use social media for only 30 minutes daily.

Looks: Being put together is the key to success. It teaches you discipline.

1. Skincare must be done twice a day, morning and night. Keep it simple but consistent, as your skin is not compatible to harsh chemicals. Apply perfume and body sprays.

2. Makeup should be kept to a minimum, unless it's a special occasion: eyeliner, mascara, eyebrow gel, lip liner and lip gloss is the perfect recipe.

3. Your hair must be lustrous and well kept. Wear it down most of the time. Do a cute hairstyle once a week.

4. You must always be dressed up for the occasion: always wear preppy academic outfits to university, something more playful and fun when you go out, your lounge wear and pajamas should still be cute. Even if nobody sees you, you still can see yourself.

5. Buy some new clothes every month. Change it up, do not seem repetitive with your outfits.

6. Your clothes must always smell good, be meticulously ironed and fresh.

7. Never are you to wear the same outfit again in a week. People notice and you must not seem lazy.

8. You have to take care of yourself every week: shave, paint your nails and toenails, exfoliate, apply a face mask, wash your hair.

9. Shower every other day instead of every day as your skin dries out. After every shower, use lotions for your body. You must always smell like a cake.

[bookishdreamer28]

Being in a relationship with Megumi

He might not show it in public but he's affectionate af. At first, he wasn't really into pda but once you two got closer, he started see things in a different way. He enjoyed your affection more than you thought.

He's overprotective when it comes to you, cuz he simply can't imagine you getting hurt or losing you. Sometimes he feels like his fears are constantly coming back, past haunting him, but he wanted to stay as strong as possible for you. Because his life had a meaning again.

He indeed gets jealous but when he knows that you're his and he's yours, it's more than enough for him. But that doesn't mean that he won't do anything if he sees someone flirting with you. He's sees red when this happens.

He's favorite time with you, is when you two stay home, cooking, playing games, watching movies and more. Just him and you. He loves when he teaches you how to create new dishes with him, and when he stands closely behind you,guiding your hands, he feels his cheeks hurting from smiling the whole time.

He love when you laugh. You're laugh is his serotonin and he needs daily. One thing that has occurred his mind many times, is how all of sudden became so sappy. But when it comes to you, he would even start writing you poems. Which is something he was about to do when he first thought about confessing to you.

Overall, he feels like he can be himself when he's with you, which is something he couldn't do before. You're the best thing that has ever happened to him, and he will be forever grateful for the new opportunity to live his life again.

˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆˚˚୨୧

Hope you'll enjoy reading this cute Megumi post luvs ♡♡

all rights reserved. please do not copy, modify, repost, translate, or claim my content as yours.

[babysun412]

Nct Drean Reaction: You surprise him after being long distance

Mark

Being so far apart from you has him thinking about you 24/7. He never shuts up about you to his members and constantly relates everything back to you. He writes songs about you, poems about you, he even writes letters he plans to give you when he sees you. Everytime you get off a call with each other he sits in silence for a moment and wishes you were there with him. Most of his saddest moments are the second you say goodbye on the phone.

So when he opens his bedroom door after a long day of practice and sees your bright smiley face. He can't help but tackle you in the biggest hug he can. You both land on top of his bed and his face is pressed in your neck as he says "No way" over and over again. He refuses to let go of you for the rest of the day.

"Holy shit, you're here. I love so much baby. Oh my god-"

Renjun

I honestly think he would cry. He would seem the least affected by being in a long distance relationship but it would secretly hit him the hardest. One of his favorite things is just to be with you. He tries to make the most out of the time you do get to see each other but in the end it always feels too short. The texts and calls keep him going throughout the day but he wants nothing more but to see your smile in person again.

You walk into the practice room after Jaemin picked you up and helped you surprise him. Renjun was the only one in the room and once he saw you through the mirror...he broke. His mouth was wide open in disbelief as he went straight into your arms. You couldn't help but coo as he cried gently into your shoulder, whispering how much he missed you. You would try to calm him down but he was ready to find a way to keep you by his side for good.

"I missed you... please stay."

Jeno

Jeno is %100 the member who would call and text you the most. He'll call to ask simple questions like what to grab at the grocery store or he'll even call when he's gaming just to hear your nagging. He gets so sad when you don't answer even though he knows it's probably for a good reason. He just wants to share his thoughts with the only person he always wants to hear them.

He got sad when you didn't answer his call. Like where tf are you? This is your regularly scheduled Jeno time. He'd be speechless when he sees you making dinner in the kitchen. You'd so causal about saying hello before laughing at his frozen state. You would giggle as he runs towards you and picks you up in a hug. But before you can say anything he would pull you into the most passionate kiss of your life.

"Jeno-"

"Shh, I wanna kiss my baby."

Haechan (Donghyuck)

Donghyuck just loves affection so it would be hard for him to do long distance. You would both call and text each other a lot but some days it's just not enough for him. He would beat himself up for being sad that you aren't there because he knows it's not your fault. But sometimes he just feels so helpless on how to feel better. He just misses you so much.

For the first time ever, he doesn't say a word when he sees you in the dressing room after his concert. Your smile would begin to fade when he doesn't say anything but as soon as you get closer he pulls you as close as you can get to each other. His face would bury itself in your neck as he would breathe in the scent he missed so much. He would not let you out of his arms for the longest time and you would both stand in the middle of the dressing room hugging despite the other people around.

"Please just hug me and pet my hair."

Jaemin

Jaemin tries to be as present in your life as possible when you are apart. He memories your daily schedules and is always reminding you to eat and get enough sleep. Taking care of you is something that takes his mind off the distance between you. He wants you to know that he's doing well too so that you can have no worries when you finally see each other again. Unfortunately, that's not how everything works sometimes.

You had come to surprise him at his dorm and he almost screams in joy after he walks through the door. He would run to you with a smile and hug you as tight as he can. But what he doesn't expect is for you to start crying into his chest. You felt like in order to keep him happy that you needed to pretend to be happy too. You felt like you needed to hide how much you missed him but you can't anymore. Jaemin would feel awful seeing you cry and his top priority would be to make you happy again.

"Baby, we can do so much while you're here! We can go on dates and hold hands and kiss and have s-"

"JAEMIN!" *Smack*

"I was gonna say sleepovers! But I mean~"

"Na Jaemin."

Chenle

Chenle understands that you have your own life and schedules but he would struggle with the fact you can't just maneuver them around whenever you want. Why can't you just take your lunch break when he gets a chance to grab his own food? Why can't you just skip class when he finally has a break in his schedule to call you? He's not mad about it or anything but he just gets worried if you both aren't able to find time for each other then your relationship might fall apart. It would mean everything to Chenle when you come to surprise him.

His mom was actually the one who suggested for you to come surprise Chenle. He was finally going to be visiting his home and his mom talked about how much he's been talking about you. So when Chenle sees you standing in his bedroom in his house in his home country...he realizes you're the one. Neither of you had said I love you yet and the second he sees you it's the only thing he's able to say.

"SURPRISE!"

"..."

"Lele?"

"I love you."

Jisung

Jisung would be another one who doesn't show how much the distance affects him. He thinks about you a lot more than you know. He's always wondering what you are doing or when he sees something funny he instantly sends it to you because he knows it'll make you laugh. Jisung would like to have that close, cute and cheesy relationship with you but he respects the reasons on why you're both apart. He doesn't want to seem selfish by complaining about the distance.

When he enters the dark room, he thinks that his hyungs are doing the obvious birthday cake surprise. What he doesn't expect is for his hyungs to scream happy birthday and show you standing behind them. His mouth would drop open and he'd look around like he's questioning if this is real. Once you go to hug him, he would press your foreheads together and nuzzle the tip of your nose with his. The closeness he's been craving for finally being fulfilled.

"Happy Birthday, baby."

"You're finally here."

[machiavellli]

Some spicy Theodore Nott headcanons˚ ༘ ೀ⋆｡˚

Notes: this was like driving: I don't have a driver license. Seriously like, you absolutely hyped me up for writing this and now I feel like I need to go touch some grass and drink some holy water.

Btw we shouldn't feel ashamed, like the first people ever to write in a language that is more similar to ours, literally wrote about about two nun fuck1ng him 108 times (yes that's what he says) in a week bc they thought he was mute. Like women in the 700 were DYING bc of novels, bc they couldn't never have enough of it and the majority developed a masturbat1on add1ction. We can't be worse, that's just humanity at its core: we are h0rny creatures.

⚠️: The blue parts are from a poem, from the author Giacomo da Lentini and it's called "Meravigliosamente" (| put a translation at the end, because it's ancient Italian and you can't translate it with a normal translator). It's one of my favorites poems ever, it's one the best incarnation of what love feels like. Yeah now the poets are cursing at me from above.

Warnings: MINORS DO NOT INTERACT! 18+!!Breeding k1nk, p in v, ora1 f receiving, pregnant! reader description, nak3d people in general (idk what to put, BUT YOU HAVE BEEN ADVISED). English is not my first language, therefore you could find some mistakes, please report them to me!

With all being said: enjoy<3

—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—

Theodore Nott, your Italian Slytherin guy:

Theo loves to love as we already established.

He loves to give, he would let his blood dry for you.

Therefore he likes to take care of his dear ones, especially you, il suo tesoro.

I also already told you about how he will think about your future together, how he would love to have a proper family with you.

He just wants to have what his family wasn't capable of giving him.

So when the seventh year it's over, it also means that his only obstacle, the one that used to keep him away from his dream, is also over.

Something changes inside of him, un istinto primario prende il sopravvento. He knows that now it is actually possible.

«Meravigliosamente

un amor mi distringe

e soven ad ogn'ora.»

Maybe the first few months it wouldn't be so evident, he would probably keep it for himself.

He wouldn't like to put pressure on you, he couldn't.

But every time you get intimate, tutte le volte che fate l'amore, he can't help but think what it will feel like letting himself go completely.

Letting it happen.

Letting himself have a proper release.

Letting himself paint your inside white.

His warm finding the embrace of your core.

Planting a life, creating it with il suo tesoro, la sua diletta.

That's the ultimate dream e cazzo quanto lo vorrebbe.

«Com'omo che ten mente

in altro exemplo pinge

la simile pintura,

cosi, bella, facc'eo,

che’nfra lo core meo

porto la tua figura.»

But for now he still has to curse within himself, "cazzo, cazzo, cazzo.", imprisoning that release, that dream.

Simply wishing he could stay inside, saving every drop for you.

It's so hard for him to distract himself from the heavy daydreaming.

His mind as pregnant with thoughts as he wish you were.

You would just look so gorgeous round with his child.

And he would easily do everything under the sight of your new silhouette.

(As he wasn't already totally lost in this love, this passion per la sua bella)

This particular scene keeps repeating in his cursed mind:

You, full and completely bare before him sitting on your shared bed, nonchalantly putting cream on every inch of your skin after a shower.

He might be at the doorstep looking from afar or already on the bed

But it always ends with him interrupting you, taking your hands with devotion, already giving you passions with just his eyes, just for him to say: "dimmi quello che desideri e sarà tuo"

And he would literally do anything.

«Al cor m'ard'una doglia,

com'om che te lo foco

a lo suo seno ascoso,

e quanto più lo'nvoglia,

tanto arde più loco

e non po star incluso»

He would let you exploit his tongue in favor of your pleasure, savoring every drop coming from down there.

Growling just at your moist sight

And he would taste you like a starved man.

Over and over again.

On the bed,

On the Couch,

At the dinner table.

Sempre e ovunque.

Holding you still with one of his firm hands on your now round stomach.

Non è mai stato così facile inginocchiarsi e predicare da quando la sua religione, la sua donna angelo, sei diventata tu.

You look like a miracle to him.

And he would absolutely get lost in this strong trance filled with amore, passione e lussuria.

He would delicately lay your figure on the bed, like the most precious Greek statue of a goddess.

But the softness of your skin will make him realize that you are not a vision, but his blessed reality.

Your fullness getting in the way would quickly become the most delicious sight ever in his eyes.

His dead stare penetrating your soul along with his physical body.

He would tell you that his eyes look gone because he is convinced to be already dead and already in Paradise.

So lost in the haze, so convinced of the woman under him to be an angel.

And now, he is making her la madre dei suoi figli, sua moglie, la sua fiamma, da qui all'eternità.

Your legs, now afar from each other, looking like the most rare prophecy.

The softness of your skin feeling like the salvation from every sin.

Your swollen breast moving along his movements in you, rhythmically, like a fine melody.

And if by chance a single tear of your product falls from them, his eyes would shine like the sun during August.

He won't esitate to collect it with his mouth, tasting yet another one of your miracles. He wouldn't hold back the raw attitude taking over his mind, he simply couldn't.

«Assai v'aggio laudato,

madonna, in tutte parti

di bellezze ch'avete.»

When you two got together he thought he couldn't love you more, the same on your wedding day, but now he would simply let this love tear him apart he would still and always pray in your name.

In the morning he would wake you up gently, caressing you cheeks, watching as the eyes that caught his soul slowly open.

He would prepare breakfast for you, taking it directly in bed.

And every day will only be about you and you only.

Need a bath? Already prepped and warm amore.

You have swollen feet? A massage from him is mandatory.

Need to put the nursery together? Consider it done.

And don't get me started on the amount of stuff that he would buy for your unborn child.

He just wants to make sure everything will be ready for the big day.

But that's just a dream, playing tricks with his mind.

«Canzonetta novella,

va canta nova cosa;

lèvati da maitino

davanti a la più bella,

fiore d'ogn'amorosa,

bionda più ch'auro fino»

"Theo, darling, are you still here?" you ask him after two solid minutes of him staring at you, to the point that you were starting to feel suffocated by his gaze.

His pupils blown, and as his breathing increase, he finally snaps back from daydreaming.

But now, now it's been months of this agony, della sua mente completamente offuscata dal desiderio.

He just can't help himself anymore, he is a direct and honest person, he can't continue to keep this away from you.

And with the most serious expression known to mankind and his eyes firmly buried into yours, he doesn't hesitate anymore:
"Facciamo un figlio amore, facciamolo adesso, non ne posso più d'aspettare, non posso più nemmeno aspettare che er mondo faccia n'altro giro" he would tell you in one breath.

You kiss him delicately, "Allora non esitare, non aspettare che la luna fugga Mr.Nott"

"Ai suoi ordini Signora Nott"

"Ti amo tantissimo" the last thing he would tell you before finally letting himself completely go, completamente perso in questo amore, si che possa ammirare te, te sospirare e te amare, te soltanto.

—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—

Okay so here's the translation of the poem, the canzonetta, which as I said it's called "Meravigliosamente", in English “Wonderfully":

My ask box is open!✨🥂

<- part II

-> part III?

[child-of-the-nights]

Various characters on your birthday

A/N: So this is very self indulgent because yesterday was my birthday (yippee!) but I wrote some headcanons with a few of my fav characters from the fandoms I write for. Anyway have fun reading!

Warnings: none

Characters: Aro Volturi, Emperor Belos, Elrond, Shadow Weaver, Thranduil

Aro Volturi:

Now, celebrating birthdays in the vampire world is a little bit different. Since most people at the palazzo have been alive for centuries, they don't really celebrate their birthdays every year. It's more like every decade or even every 100 years.

However, if Aro's mate is still human or a newborn vampire, they can expect to have a big party thrown for them. Even if they prefer solitude, they can expect to at least have the family invited. That being Caius, Marcus, Athenodora and Sulpicia.

Aro obviously gets his mate the best gifts. He can, after all, see their deepest wishes with a single touch. His mate had seen something online and thought "wow, it would be nice to have this"? Aro had already added it to the list of possible birthday gifts.

Obviously he would buy them more meaningful gifts as well. For example, maybe the mate absolutely loves a certain book series, well Aro would commision someone to make them a special edition of the books.

His mate can expect to find love notes and poems all over the place on their birthday. Aro is a gifted writer and he makes sure to capture all the things that he admires about his mate. Which is pretty much everything. Seriously, he can barely name anything he doesn't like.

The entire day is planned carefully by Aro and he intends to go through with his plan unless something absolutely crucial needs his attention. In that case, he promises his mate that he'll make up for being away.

Aro will ask them to dance with him to their favorite songs. Whatever the song may be, he would find a way to dance with them.

It brings him great joy when he sees how his mate has so much fun. Especially if they are holding his hand while doing so. Aro loves it when he can bury himself in their mind.

When the day is coming to an end, he takes them to stargaze outside of Volterra, somewhere not that affected by light pollution. They both would look at the stars and hold hands while doing so. Aro would whisper sweet nothings in their ear, possibly slipping into other languages while doing so.

His mate can definitely say that their birthday was amazing, if not the best birthday they ever had.

Emperor Belos:

When it comes to Belos and celebrating birthdays, he actually prefers to not have a grand party for his beloved. He just thinks it would serve no reason and a private dinner or something similar means far more than anything else.

That being said, he is actually... hardly torn away from doing his Emperor duties. He must prepare for the Day of Unity after all. But after enough begging, he decides to humor his partner for a while.

I'm not saying that he didn't get them gifts, because of course he did. Belos is the type of person to hand-craft presents instead of buying them. He just feels it's far more personal that way.

Belos being the old fashioned man that he is, he writes them a heartfelt letter. As heartfelt as Belos can be of course. He would reminescence of their first date and the moment Belos realised he loved them.

Somehow the entire castle found out of their birthday, so the s/o can expect getting birthday wishes from most of the guards. Some (like Lilith, Kikimora and Hunter) even give them presents. Lilith and Kikimora just want to suck up to Belos of course, but Hunter's is more personal. After all, it's his uncle's lover.

As much as Belos denies it, he loves having matching things. So his beloved would get something for their birthday that matches something he owns. Perhaps it's a gadget he uses often, or a piece of clothing that he loves; he would get them something similar.

This day is the ONLY day he would allow them to wear his emperor outfit. Belos would watch them try to imitate him and would laugh along. After the day is over though, he makes sure to tell his s/o that they got their emperor-outfit-wearing priviledges revoked.

Obviously Belos knows everything on the Boiling Isles, which means that he knows all of the secret places that are just absolutely mesmerizing. He might just surprise his beloved with a trip to one of these places.

I believe at night, once the both of them are in bed, Belos would share some of his fond memories. That is probably the most sentimental his s/o had ever seen him. It's sort of a birthday present of sorts I suppose.

Now, if his lover REALLY wanted to have a big party, he might be convinced. He would use that to manipulate the Isles into believing that he is a kind man, but he would also just want to make his beloved happy. Belos is just a tiny bit twisted like that.

Absolutely the type of man who would ask for their s/o's hand in marriage on their birthday. I can just totally see that happen.

Elrond:

Oh Elrond, beautiful Elrond.

Now birthdays are a bit questionable for elves as well since... well, they are immortal. But, whenever Elrond and his beloved would celebrate their birthday, the elven Lord would make sure to make it unforgettable.

Elrond plans the whole day of course (if his s/o agrees into the planning).

First, they would wake up and receive breakfast in bed. Elrond would stay with them the whole time, smiling down at them as they eat. After that he takes them on a walk in the gardens where they would talk for hours.

If someone happens to "accidentally" play some music in the distance, Elrond would ask his lover on a dance. They would talk while doing so and laugh along when they accidentally trip and fall in the grass.

After the walk in the gardens, Elrond takes his s/o back to the main halls and leads them to a room that is decorated just for them. There awaits them Elladan, Elrohir, and Arwen with smiles on their faces. All of them would give Elrond's beloved a gift while the Lord waits patiently.

Elrond's gift wouldn't be too grand but it would be meaningful. Most likely it is something he made with his own hands. Like if his beloved wears jewellery, he would make them something out of their preferred materials. Since courting is taken very seriously for elves, I believe they wouldn't commision anyone for a piece like that like humans would. The elves make important gifts themselves as it's more meaningful that way.

After a joyful lunch with music involved, Elrond brings his s/o outside to celebrate with the rest of Rivendell. It's a very carefree party where the elves play music and dance around with or without the s/o.

Once nighttime comes around, Elrond will get them away from the party and bring them to a clearing where they can watch the stars in peace. The stars are very important in an elf's life, so why not spend the last hours of their birthday looking at them.

Elrond would tell his beloved how much he loves them while in the comfort of the stars. He would also describe their relationship using great many metaphors.

At the end of their birthday, they walk back to the party and dance the night away.

Shadow Weaver:

We all know how Shadow Weaver loves gardening, right? Well, she would obviously put together a lovely bouqet for her s/o. It consits of their favorite flowers, or if they don't have any, flower in their favorite colors.

Shadow Weaver would wake her lover up by gently caressing their face and wishing them happy birthday once they open their eyes. After that she let's them eat breakfast before giving them the bouqet. It has a little note attached to it that is enchanted so it sparks little fireworks once it's opened.

Now, the sorceress is actually not that sure how to act in this situation because, let's be real, she did not partake in many relationships before. So her s/o will have to excuse if she's being a bit awkward.

She would get her beloved a cake, as suggested by Glimmer. It would be their favorite flavor and most likely would have frosting that is their favorite color.

Because Shadow Weaver is not very big on letting her feelings show, she wouldn't really give her s/o a speech about how much she loves them but she would try to write some of her feelings out in a form of a letter.

Once the s/o is ready, she will take them to her garden that is decorated just for them. It's more colorful than usual, but it still stays in the theme of the sorceress' taste.

Shadow Weaver would then lead them to a table that is decorated by candles. They would drink tea or something her beloved likes while talking. While outside, some residents of the castle would walk by to wish them happy birthday, especially Glimmer.

Once they're done with the little tea party, Shadow Weaver takes them out to a clearing in the Whispering Woods. There she reveals a picnic set up just for her s/o. While sitting and eating, Shadow Weaver finally gives them their present. It's something very personal.

The rest of the day consists of Shadow Weaver and her beloved watching the sunset and enjoying their picnic.

Thranduil:

Once again, the elves are a bit different about birthdays but Thranduil sure does throw a big party. Wine for the whole realm and dancing all night.

But before he gets to that, he makes sure that this day is the best day his s/o has ever had.

Thranduil wakes his beloved up by whispering to them and wishing them happy birthday. He let's them have breakfast in bed, while he eats beside them. After the breakfast he gives the plates to a servant while they stay in bed for some more quality time.

When they finally get up, Thranduil takes them on a stroll in the garden. They walk around, simply talking. Once they found a place where they could sit down, Thranduil gives them their first gift. It's a very personal gift that he made himself (much like Elrond).

While his s/o is looking at the gift, Thranduil whispers in their ear in elvish, explaining just how much he loves them. They stay there for some time before heading back to the palace.

Legolas would wish them happy birthday of course. If he likes them enough, he might make them a little carving of sorts and give it to them.

Thranduil showers his beloved in other types of presents as well. If they like wearing jewellery, he would get them something that matches his. Perhaps his s/o would like another sword? Something that fits them perfectly but also just so happens that matches Thranduil's weapon?

Once Thranduil and his lover had finished with the gift giving, he takes them to the dining room where an exquisite lunch/dinner is prepared for them. Some elves are playing music while they eat.

When they finish, they go to celebrate with the rest of the realm. Thranduil opens up the wine barrels for everyone to drink and all of the elves dance around while singing songs.

The Elvenking obviously would ask to dance with his s/o while most likely already drunk. His partner can also expect to hear a speech from him that is adressed to the entire realm. He talkes about how important his beloved is and expects everyone to respect them as such.

If his lover is more anxious, then he swoops them away from the party to dance alone in a more secluded area. After all, he only wants them to feel great on their birthday.

The day most likely ends with the drunk couple entering their chambers and laughing as they fall on their bed. Alternatively, if his lover isn't one to drink, Thranduil still gets pretty drunk and his s/o can deal with a far more affectionate King.

[white-sinner]

Seven brothers and their boyfriends

fourth born Satan x male book lover reader

Smut

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all fairy tales start with once upon a time and they all lived happily ever after and it's time for the story between you and satan to begin

when you two first met there wasn't this much interaction the only thing you understood about him was his hatred for lucifer

one of the details that made him fall madly in love with you was your love of reading but not just your personality your looks he loved everything about you. like the little mermaid

and when he showed you his room o holy heaven … it was as if he fell in love with you again your eyes sparkled! it was a whole room full of bookshelves and full of books finally someone who understood him his love for books in short a perfect match

most of the time you could find him opening your door wide with a pile of books in his hand saying

“these are some of my favorite books I think you might like them”

of course you also recommended them and lent your favorite books with the which unlike his was much more attentive

for your dates, these are almost always in the library, in his room pampering you while you read together but one thing that satan likes to do in particular is to recreate one of the romantic scenes of one of his books

now the fights between you two don't always happen but they are more frequent than other brothers but you can swear that after he calms down he will try to apologize in all possible ways for example by sending you pictures of cats with the word sorry, writing you a poem or even coming with a cat in his arms apologizing

SMUT

now this may seem like a fairy tale but this story is not all sugar and candy but there is also a touch of spice now this can go in two ways

SUB READER

satan was returning from the library when he saw a scene in the living room he saw you and lucifer arguing and you fearlessly answered him in kind, after that quarrel and you were still angry, satan he invited you to his room and as soon as you entered the Saw satan shirtless slamming you against the wall kissing you furiously

“you could have told me you wanted to do that wonderful show but you didn't tell me anything, naughty boy~”

“Huh?!”

satan throw you on the bed you were speechless but excited and satan could see it

satan undresses you while he runs his hands over your exposed body, he puts you on your stomach and your ass in the air and starts fucking you very hard, you put your hand on your mouth to stop your moans being heard

“Don't cover your sweet sounds, kitty”

“mmm~ go slowerrr”

to which he smirked and went faster

you know cats when their partner is in heat? this is exactly what happened

the next day Satan had to carry you in his arms because you couldn't move well he didn't mind

TOP READER

you and Satan were in his room reading and drinking tea when you notice something strange under the bed

"do not look!"

“some cat ears and a tail-shaped butt plug?”

“I-I can explain”

now you were intrigued by the tail shaped butt plug you already had an idea where the situation was going but you wanted to hear from him

“I wanted you to fuck me with those…”

said Satan in a low voice even lower than Levi

“What? speak louder baby”

"Come on are you serious? it's embarrassing"

“ok when you are ready to tell me he will find me in my room”

“wait wait! don't go..I want you to fuck me with those”

you only smiled after this and Satan's cheeks flushed red

"undress"

Satan followed your instructions and was left with only ears and tail

now he was under you while you fucked him making him see the stars

“M/NM/Nn-“

“No no,baby kitty don’t talk”

with that said he started fucking harder now you could see the bulge of your cock inside him

“Nyan nyan!!”

and so you continued until the morning

A/N: before this story ends I leave you with a photo

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[captainofthedauntless]

hii i really like your writing!! <33 i was wondering if we could get something for y/n asking their turt to be their valentine? i was gonna ask for bayverse but i saw your rules said you were most confident with writing 2003 so whatever you like best! take as much time as you need!! <333333 p.s. heres a cookie *cookie*

Hi lovely! We're all cool pretending it's still Valentine's, right? Awesome.

I chose Bayverse for now, but plan to do the 03 guys soon! I took the friends-to-lovers route here, I hope you enjoy.

(As always, set post-movies!)

So you want to ask a turtle out.

Don's an observant guy, so it's not that he's completely shocked that you like him. But to have that suspicion, quiet and dangerous in the back of his mind, confirmed? To have you ask him directly? He's mystified. It's one thing to think he might have a chance, but it's another thing altogether to have a chance handed to him on a silver platter.

So when you catch him in between tasks and offer him a box of chocolates- a brand April had brought down one time and he had mentioned really enjoying and you had somehow remembered, because apparently he wasn't the only observant one here- and smile at him, warm and fond and visibly nervous, he's left blinking at you. Then, apparently taking his pause as a lack of understanding- or just trying to fill the silence, he couldn't be sure- you speak.

"Would you be my Valentine?"

And he's gone. Don.EXE has stopped working, would you like to restart? It's like static in his mind for a beat, two, and suddenly he's nodding quickly and a smile is growing on his face and "Yeah! Yeah, of course- yes. I'd love to."

He shares the chocolate with you, and on his, like, seventh piece, he finally works up the nerve to ask you if you meant "Valentine" like romantically, and your laugh is good-natured enough that he can't even bother to be embarrassed.

"Like romantically, yeah."

"Cool, cool. I thought so, but it's not actually an exclusively romantic term and- interestingly enough there seems to be a rise in platonic usage, I was just reading an article about it the other day-"

He goes on for several minutes. You listen patiently, and right as he's about to apologize for the tangent you ask him a question and he's grinning like an idiot and launching into an answer and it's officially the best Valentine's Day ever, and he's already plotting ways to get you back for it.

Leonardo is, honestly, a little irritated. Not because you asked! No, no, he's elated- ecstatic- about that. He's so happy he doesn't know what do with it all.

But you beat him to it, and that's... it's a little frustrating. The turtle was slow, and he's not the biggest fan of the irony.

He had a plan. He had a whole plan- he finally worked up the nerve to tell you he cared for you (he wasn't willing to say the L word just yet, but he did love you, and it was getting to be too much to ignore), he'd convinced April to get him your favorite chocolate (he'd gathered intel from your "secret" stash at your place, where you kept the good stuff out of Mikey's hands. He had been very stealthy and was more than a little proud of himself and a lot in debt to April- he'd be watching her favorite awful TV shows with her for months), and he'd written you a short poem (and edited, and scrapped, and rewritten said poem) and tied it to the heart-shaped box of sweet goodness with a blue ribbon.

He'd proceeded to convince himself that was a little too much, and swapped the blue for silver.

Leo had rehearsed exactly what he'd say. He knew when he'd do it, where his brothers would be (well out of the way, with a clear unspoken threat of extra patrol and training if they went off-plan), and what he would eat for dinner beforehand so that he had the absolute smallest possible chance of his nerves hijacking his stomach.

And then you show up with forget-me-nots and gardenias tied up in blue ribbon, which. First of all, that explains why you wanted to borrow his book on flower language a few weeks back. Secondly, the message of secret love, true love, respect, and shared history, all tied up in his color? It nearly kills him.

"Leo, would you do me the honor of being my Valentine?"

"Stay right here," He says firmly, dashing off to his bed before he could process your owlish blink. He pulls the chocolate box out from underneath it and rushes back, smiling sheepishly at the way your concern immediately melts into fond amusement. "Only if you'll be mine."

"Deal," You laugh, trading him the fragrant bouquet for the heart-shaped box, and he busies himself with inspecting and smelling the flowers while you read his poem.

At the end of the day, he earns himself a hug, a kiss on the cheek, and a Valentine, so maybe you asking wasn't really the issue he thought it was.

Mikey beats you to asking.

He asks you a week ahead of time, and it's a real splashy affair- he goes all out, pestering April into helping him get all kinds of candy and a big, orange stuffed bear with a heart in its little paws and a pink basket big enough for all of it. He begs his brothers and father to give him the living room of the lair for the evening, and even agrees to do Raph's chores for a week and a half in exchange. He sets the basket up on the couch, tries out about three hundred different combinations of the million lights littering the lair to create the perfect "romantic and intimate but not too suggestive but not too dark but not too bright" ambience, and absolutely agonizes over the playlist of easy, romantic R&B.

He's the one to greet you at the metaphorical front door of the lair and guide you into the living room, and when you look at him quizzically- and hopefully, he notes with delight- he takes your hands and a deep breath.

"Angel, would you be my Valentine?"

"Dammit, Mikey..." You grumble, and if it weren't for the grin you were biting back and the way you were squeezing his hands like you never wanted to let go, he'd be pretty damn scared right about now. "I was gonna ask you. I had a whole plan."

"You can still ask me later, gorgeous," He says with a big grin of his own. "I'll totally act surprised."

"How kind."

"That's me. Now, uh, you're kinda leavin' me hangin', here."

"I'll happily be your Valentine, Mikey."

Raph was not going to ask. He did not see this coming, did not see your feelings, did not think twice about his plan to spend Valentine's Day like he always did: with extra-buttery popcorn and rom-coms.

His plan was to basically not think about how you'd probably be spending it with someone, happy and laughing and smiling.

No, you hadn't mentioned having plans. No, you'd never mentioned a significant other- or even a love interest. No, neither of those things stopped him from assuming.

So when you waltzed into his space with a knock at the entryway and a big ol' grin, he was preparing himself for a whole ooey-gooey story about whoever had swept you off your feet. Preparing himself to act like that didn't eat him alive.

And apparently the lucky bastard had gotten you flowers, which was not helping.

"Hey, Big Red," You say fondly, leaning against the wall and fiddling with a flower stem and looking like a daydream, and his heart did something funny in his chest. "You busy?"

"Why, wanna gloat about your night?" He asks, fighting to keep his tone in the realm of playful and away from anything bitter and yearning.

"Was hoping to ask you a question, actually."

He hums a question of his own, now thoroughly confused.

"Would you be my Valentine?" You ask, holding the flowers out sweetly.

He, in a brilliant moment of zero filter, says "What the fuck?" and your smile drops the smallest bit and he very seriously considers tossing himself off of the Chrysler building.

You open your mouth, and he launches himself out of bed before you can get a word out, gently pulling the flowers out of your hand.

"Why?" He asks gruffly, very clearly avoiding your gaze as he studies a delicate petal.

"...Because I... have feelings for you?" You half admit, half ask, sounding as confused as he felt and staring at him with wide eyes. "If I've read this wrong-"

"No." He forces- forces- himself to look you in the eye, which lasts all of about a second before he's counting it as a win and looking back at the flowers. "But I'm not sure it's somethin' you should read."

"I'm not sure I asked that."

And he can't argue with that, because he knows the tone in your voice, knows he'd be better off arguing with the wall. But he can question it, because.... well, for a lot of reasons.

He should ask a lot of questions. Like "why?" and "did you hit your head?" and "is this a prank or somethin'?", but all that comes out is "Me?"

It makes you smile for some reason, and you step forward a little and duck into his line of sight and meet his eyes with about three and a half times the sincerity he could handle. "Who else?" You ask simply.

He has about a dozen retorts to that, but with you holding his gaze and heart hostage, he just nods. "Okay."

[unclewaynemunson]

prompt idea! :D

steve being a poet and eddie being a songwriter. they both reference each other in their works and no one has put it together yet.

( also hi you're awesome )

Oooh anon I love this, this is such an intriguing concept bc the possibilities are ENDLESS with this one! I hope you like the direction I ended up taking it in :) (and thank you so much for dropping this in my ask box! <3 )

EDIT: I wrote an expanded version for this one and it's also on ao3 :D

---

Jeff was the one who introduced Eddie to Ronan Right. His mom was moving and when Eddie visited to help, he found his friend with his nose buried in a small book that was nearly falling apart in his hands.

“What's that?” Eddie asked, flopping down next to Jeff among the boxes.

“My mom's favorite poet,” Jeff mumbled, barely glancing up from the page.

And as soon as Eddie got a chance to pick up the book from where Jeff had left it, he was hooked. He was no help at all for Jeff's poor mom, completely engrossed in poem after poem, reading them again and again and again.

Eddie liked reading poetry to get some inspiration for his songwriting, but a lot of poetry had this atmosphere of pretentiousness around it. This didn't. It was surprisingly simple. To the point, with a rawness to it, mostly short poems that had a simplicity with which they managed to cut right to the heart of things.

Ever since that day, Ronan Right became Eddie's biggest source of inspiration. He'd never start working on new songs before reading one of Right's poems first. And whenever he got stuck on his lyrics, he'd pick up one of Right's books – and every time, without fail, he'd find something in there to help him find the right words.

---

When people would ask Steve what inspired him, his answer was always the same, always simple: music. Most people probably assumed that by that, a poet would mean classical music or maybe jazz of some kind. They were wrong: Steve Harrington, professionally known as Ronan Right, liked to blast the most screamy metal imaginable whenever he was writing – much to the discontent of his poor neighbors. He didn't care much for lyrics, it was all about the sound for him: about volume, about harmonies, about a combination of ingredients that somehow managed to flip a switch inside of his brain that unlocked the more creative ways to look at words.

His favorite band was called Corroded Coffin. Something about them stood out in the long list of metal bands he loved to listen to. It was something about the sound of the singer's voice, about the guitar riffs, that simply made sense to him, made the words that he was looking for bubble up to the surface naturally.

He got halfway through the first song on Corroded Coffin's newly released album, when he froze at his desk. He didn't care much for lyrics, but those words... There was something familiar about them.

He replayed the song from the beginning and started frantically flipping through the pages of one of his earliest poetry bundles... Yeah, there definitely was something familiar about those lyrics.

They weren't copied, exactly. It could just be a coincidence.

But the album kept playing on and Steve kept getting distracted by the lyrics because there was so much familiarity in them. It wasn't like the singer was stealing from him, it wasn't even like he was taunting his copyright or anything like that... It was like he was building on Steve's words. Like Steve had laid a foundation that had sparked Corroded Coffin to make something beautiful. Like the two of them shared a mind, a soul, an inspiration.

And Steve wrote the best poem he had ever written, in one go, that day.

---

More bundles followed. More albums were released. And they kept interlocking with each other, one causing the other to do something new, try something different, figure something out.

Ronan Right was still an obscure poet, well-respected but not mainstream enough for bigger successes. Corroded Coffin was still an obscure metal band, praised by the connoisseur but too experimental to ever get anywhere bigger than the verge of the metal scene. The only one who noticed the textual similarities between the two, was Jeff's mother. She'd smile her knowing smile and chuckle quietly, delighting in her own private understanding.

---

A new book was about to get published. Steve had to drive down to Chicago to meet with his publicist and talk some things through, but his car was in the shop so he got on a train instead. The meeting went well, Don't try to be a hero officially got the green light, and feeling content, Steve pulled out the latest Corroded Coffin cd to put in his walkman as soon as he got on the train back home.

“Hey,” the guy opposite him said with a smile and a nod towards Steve's walkman, just before Steve could put on his headphones. “Corroded Coffin, nice.”

“You know them?” Steve asked, taken by surprise, a matching smile creeping onto his own face.

“Yeah.” The guy chuckled. “Yeah, I know them.”

Sunlight fell through the window and shone on the big rings around the guy's fingers, catching Steve's eye – and pulling his gaze towards the tiny book he was holding in his hands.

“Hey,” he said, “Ronan Right, nice.”

The guy stared at him for a few seconds, something like disbelief in his big brown eyes. “You know him?!”

Steve felt laughter bubble up in his chest. “Yeah, I know him.”

[5t4r1uv3r]

☆ Team Stan dating hcs ☆

☆ Hello everyone!! These are the first headcanons on my page, I'm so excited!! I apologize if any of these hcs seem too ooc, feedback and advice are always welcomed!!

Warnings include: projectile vomiting, pda, mentions of arguments, and mentions of death.

Characters: Stan Marsh, Kyle Broflovski, Kenny McCormick

Reader is gender neutral!! 958 words ☆

☆ You are, by far, the brightest star I've ever seen. And I never dreamed I'd be so happy that I could die - Lana Del Rey ☆

☆ Stan Marsh ☆

☆ As he’s grown older Stan’s habit of throwing up around his romantic interests has gone away. He still tends to get nauseous but you won’t have to worry about him projectile vomiting on you.

☆ The way he asked you out wasn’t any grand gesture, he slipped a note into your locker asking you to meet up with him after school. Where he confessed his feelings and asked you to be his significant other. 

☆ Stan isn’t the best when it comes to texting, he prefers to talk face-to-face or in person. So that means lots of FaceTime calls, him showing up at your home, or him asking you to go over to his. 

☆ Quality time is crucial to Stan, he wants to spend all the time he can around you. At school if you share any classes, bi-weekly dates, and hanging out when your schedules allow it. 

☆ Stan prefers to keep dates simple, opting for trips to Stark’s Pond, either on strolls or ice skating during the winter, having movie nights, and listening to music together. 

☆ Speaking of music, he has definitely written songs about you. He will also learn all of your favorite songs on guitar and will sing them to you. 

☆ Stan will not be too big on PDA, he prefers showing affection in small settings. However, if you two are out in public he’ll always have an arm around your waist. Occasionally sneaking pecks on your cheeks and forehead. 

☆ As seen in the past Stan is sensitive and jealous, so he’ll need constant reassurance and praise. 

☆ You’re the main communicator in the relationship as Stan struggles to express his thoughts with proper phrasing. It has been the cause of disagreements and fights. 

☆ Over all Stan tries his best for you, to be there for you, to help you, and to love you. 

☆ Kyle Broflovski ☆

☆ In the beginning Kyle was extremely awkward around you, having difficulty navigating his emotions after failed relationships. 

☆ Due to his experiences, it took him a while to confess his feelings to you. Trying his best to push his feelings aside yet he had many moments where he slipped up. 

☆ After gathering the courage to confess he decided the perfect way would be to write you notes, poems, and letters that he would leave in your locker. 

☆ The final note you received was to meet him at Stark’s Pond where he confessed his feelings for you. 

☆ Kyle is a hopeless romantic so he’ll give you the world. Spoiling you with anything and everything you could ever want. 

☆ He isn’t big when it comes to PDA, preferring to link arms, hold hands, and forehead kisses. 

☆ Kyle always wants dates to feel special, striving to make them as perfect as possible. From moonlight dinners to picnics with your favorite foods, reading poems or books that remind him of you, and taking you to Denver Nuggets games. 

☆ One of Kyle’s favorite ways to spend time with you is having study dates. His grades are incredibly important to him and he takes it upon himself to make sure you’re succeeding as well. 

☆ He has always had a short temper and strong beliefs, he tries to control those emotions to not hurt you or cause any spats. Kyle wants to understand your feelings and views through your eyes, so he’ll set aside his thoughts and understand you before he gets his point across.

☆ Even though he will get jealous, Kyle trusts you with all his heart. His love is for you and only you, you are his whole world. 

☆ Kenny McCormick ☆ 

☆ Kenny’s reputation as a flirt has followed him since he was a child, he hoped you didn’t view his attempts of getting close to you as that. At the beginning he viewed it as such, but as he got to know you better his feelings developed. 

☆ Kenny was very straightforward with his crush on you, he toned down his flirting and playboy nature. Wanting to show you that he only had eyes on you. 

☆ Taking steps back he planned how to woo you, dividing his attention and actions solely on you. Kenny vowed no matter how long it took you to understand his feelings he would wait for you, even if you would reject him.  

☆ The day you accepted Kenny’s love was the best day of his life. 

☆ His economic situation made it so he had to be creative to display his affection, he truly wanted to give you the world. This includes acts of service, making you trinkets, giving you flowers from a nearby garden, and saving up his money to get you nicer presents. 

☆  Kenny is huge when it comes to PDA, he has to have a hand on you whenever you’re around. He especially loves having his hand on the curvature of your back nearing your ass. If you’ll allow him, he's making out with you, anywhere and everywhere. 

☆ Cuddle or hug him from behind and he will melt in your arms. If you’re not hugging him, Kenny is hugging you at any chance he gets. 

☆  Dates consist of talking at Stark’s Pond, late-night drives, stargazing in the woods, or spending time in your bedroom. 

☆  Kenny is incredibly selfless, often putting your needs and emotions above his. To many life is the most precious gift, but after dying so many times he realizes that the most precious gift is the people in his life. You and Karen being the most important ones. 

☆ Kenny loves you to hell and back and to heaven and back. Quite literally.

[tiredmetalenthusiast]

Poems of Love (Gaz x F!Reader)

This is part one of the Love letter series (In slow process, please be patient). Starting off with everyone’s favorite pretty boy Gaz! This is just a love poem from reader to our helicopter surivor!

Warnings: Violence against another person, mentions of racism, hurt with written comfort, fluff, writer has very, very little military knowledge!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

If you could have had it your way which you did but only a little bit, you would have scarred up the bitch that decided it was a great idea to talk shit about your sergeant. Price had intervened when he was brought in for the commotion, finding you and her in a pile on the ground of the mess hall, your fist repeatedly meeting her face. The guy she was with looked just as bad as she’ll look after Price had Ghost pull you off of her.

”Alright! What the hell is going on here?!” He turns to you expecting an answer, before you can speak however the girl you had been wailing on decided to speak up.

”She just went mental and attacked us!” Ghost scoffed, “Sounds like a load of shit private.” Ghost looks to Price who says nothing, still looking at you for an answer. “What happened, sergeant? I won't ask again.”

You took a breath to center yourself, placing a hand on Prices wrist, a sign you were truly pissed and grateful for your captain holding you back. You looked at Gaz who was staring at the floor, with Johnny patting his back. “Sir, the guys and I were simply enjoying our lunch, when Private Downs and her buddy Private Fallow decided it was an amazing idea to address Sergeant Garrick by racial slurs. I took it upon myself to defend his honor.”

Price looks at Gaz and Johnny, who confirm the story. Price turns you loose to Johnny so you can see if Gaz is okay. He had told you not to worry about it, to leave it be as it wasn’t anything he hadn’t heard before, he admired your sense of violent justice and need to defend him.

Price clears his throat, “Well, as it stands we here in the military, especially the 141, don’t take kindly to that sort of talk. You both being in the military, fairly new or not, should probably re-evaluate your life choices. If you find joy in tormenting your fellow high ranking officers perhaps we should remove you.”

”Remove us how?! It’s just words! W-we were just joking!” Ghost rolls his eyes and jostles Private Downs to shut her up. “You’ll shut your bleedin mouth! Sergeant Garrick is more of a soldier than you and your friend’ll ever be in your whole career!”

”Ghost take ‘em to my office. Sergeant!” “Captain?” “Good work defending your colleague, next time though try to make it a bit less bloody, eh? Cleaning duty for a week.” “Totally worth it sir!” Price and Ghost leave with Downs and Fallow in hand ready to put them through back to basic for behavioral and tolerance training.

Gaz had thanked you but told you it wasn’t necessary, he seemed distanced after that. Only saying hello in passing, you thought it was either what the two idiots had said or that he was mad at you, possibly both. Johnny and Ghost had assured you it wasn’t anything you did.

Taking the time you had to sit around after hours you penned him a letter. A poem really but you were hoping it would put him in a better mood. It took you a few hours but once you had finished it and read it over, you folded in up and went to slide it under his door for him to read in the morning.

-The next morning- Gaz pov-

He really wasn’t up for dealing with anyone today, especially not after yesterday's events, but none the less he had to get to up and start his day. Duty called and he had to be at morning training to help Ghost with recruits. He thought back to you and how fast you were to defend him, he was appreciative yes but it really wasn’t a big deal, it came with the military. Some people are just stuck in the Middle Ages like and you can’t help them.

Freshly showered and changed he was about to leave when he noticed a letter on the floor, his name scrawled across the front in beautiful script. He picked it up and sat at his desk to read it.

It looked like your hand writing but he doesn’t remember it looking so nice and neat, havin only ever seen you writing reports in messy, somewhat legible chicken scratch. As he opens it and begins to read he feels his heart swell.

‘To the prettiest man I know

Your bravery knows no bounds, leaving me breathless at your wonder. Akin to a warrior, a deity, war and peace become you. An angel.

Your beauty would be compared to that of Narcissus, of a warm summer day and lovely autumn nights. Your eyes bring delightful thoughts of dark chocolate in the shade and shine like the brightest amber whiskey in the light.

Skin aglow in the afternoon sun and glistening with sweat,  who could ever deny you? Aphrodite herself would bargain with you for your secrets. Would regale you with tales of beauty and mark you as one yourself and no one would bat an eye in disagreement.

I look upon your beauty and heroism with awe and hope that one day I could stand in even a shred of your greatness. If you were a god I would worship at your alter for all of my days, the most devoted supplicant, spreading your praises through any means.’

Gaz must have read it 4 times and he didn’t know what to say, his eyes were a little bit misty. Others had praised him yes, for his efforts on the field, his medals, but no one had ever called him a deity. No one had ever complimented his eyes like that. He rubbed at is eyes, letting out a huff, before folding up the letter and placing it in his desk drawer before heading out to morning practice. His heart feeling lighter.

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[moralesmilesanhour]

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summary: Margo goes to a shitty poetry slam and gets more out of it than she expects. wc: 4.9k warnings: alcohol consumption, and it's like very VERY lightly implied that they had an Adult Sleepover if you get my meaning. Nothing really too suggestive in here I promise. One singular reference to a tiktok. a/n: this took me a whole ass week but I'm very proud of where my writing style is going! somewhat inspired by the film 'Love Jones'. If you enjoyed this pls feel free to leave your thoughts or your favorite line if you have one! EDIT: OH MY GOD I FORGOT TO ADD: the first poem is actually taken from the Junior novel 'Miles Morales: Suspended' by Jason Reynolds! The poem at the end is mine though lmao I'm not the best poet

Margo can’t stand poetry.

Someone gets up in front of you with a piece of paper clutched in their hands, and recites what is simultaneously the most vague and the most painfully obvious string of fragmented sentences you’ve ever heard as if they’d just touched your soul.

It’s not rapping, not preaching, but the ugly middle child standing between them. Some odd bastardization of music for people who thought they were too smart for either of the first two, but weren't brave enough to just give speeches.

Speeches, at least, are coherent, specific, and can be scrutinized.

So far, sitting in the front row of the bar that her classmate Zoe had invited her to for poetry night, no one has changed her mind. 

Tonight’s performances consisted of an assembly line of men (and a couple of women) in vintage sweaters ranting about their exes to the rhythm of bongo drums, or some mildly relevant social issue that none had the lexicon to really say anything in stanzas that hasn’t already been said. She had heard nothing yet that sounded much more profound than an Instagram post.

Although, one girl had come up and recited a short poem about her late mother that Margo thought was quite sweet, and the least tortuous to sit through.

The crowd erupted in snaps again for a poet with long braided dreads and an ankh tattoo whose words she had tuned out. The host took the mic and announced the final (thank god) participant:

“Now this next one I had to practically drag over here to get him to share his beautiful poetry with us tonight. Everyone, please give a warm welcome to one of my close friends and colleagues, Miles Morales!”

A lanky young man–Margo suspects about six feet even, given the way he’s towering over the host–awkwardly shuffles over to the center of the stage, offering the crowd a tight-lipped smile. 

He’s in a plain green sweater with the sleeves hastily rolled up to his elbows and a bomber jacket tied around his waist. As soon as he’s handed the microphone, it seems to dawn on him that there’s no turning back, and his body visibly tenses. 

He clearly just got here, and for once Margo doesn’t know what to expect.

Squinting beneath the bright spotlight, he clears his throat and speaks into the mic. 

“Um, hi.”

A few scattered ‘hi’s from the crowd.

There’s something bright and sweet in the tone of his voice that makes him sound a little boyish, and she wonders what he could possibly have under his sleeve that warranted him getting dragged up here last minute.

He takes a deep breath.

“It’s said

That nobody

Is ever more

Than ten feet

From a spider.”

Miles began the poem carefully, like he was confessing something. 

“They be everywhere you and me are.”

A few members of the crowd laugh, others shudder at the thought and frown. 

“And even though

We see them only

When they big enough to see, or when

They move,

Like a cursor

Across the blank white

Page of a wall…”

His voice loses some of its airiness in exchange for confidence as he recites the rest of the poem, and Margo realizes that he isn’t reading off of anything. 

Either he’s improvising, or he has it entirely memorized.

“Or when we trip

The web-like wire

Of a booby trap

Or when they

Fang our flesh

We should probably

Assume most

Just be right there…”

Miles paused and looked somewhere far beyond the crowd, lifting his arm to point to the back of the room. Then he repeated:

“Right there,

Right here,”

He gestures toward the front row, where his eyes land directly on Margo. It’s not so close to the stage that she can tell for sure, but she thinks she sees a hint of a smile cross his lips.

“Looking at us,

Looking over them.”

Silence. 

His arm falls limply to his side as his eyes frantically scan the audience, searching for some kind of response. 

Then, someone begins to clap. Then another. Then another. WIthin moments, the entire room erupts in applause, causing a shy smile to spread across the young man’s face.

“Uh, thank you!” he says, surprised at the positive reception, before shrinking into himself again and leaving the stage the same way he came.

The host returns and takes the mic from him.

“Miles Morales, everybody!”

-

After the poetry slam, Margo insisted that Zoe take her to the sushi place across the street. It had a bar sitting off to the side, one with significantly less poets. The decorative lights hung directly above the shelf filled with glass bottles and shrouded them in cherry red.

Zoe takes a sip of her sherry and leans in.

“Sooo, how was it?”

“It was a’ight.”

The light-skinned girl’s lips pull into a pout. “Seriously?”

“Hey, I told you poetry wasn’t my thing,” Margo pauses, then amends, “I liked the last guy, though. Breath of fuckin’ fresh air.”

“Right? His style really caught my attention, subtle.”

“Glad you liked it.”

Zoe’s eyes widened as she glanced just beyond Margo’s shoulder.

When Margo turned towards the familiar voice and froze. 

The poet in question was standing just inches away, a friendly smile gracing his features. His jacket is no longer around his waist, neatly folded over his arm like an expensive coat. He is with the excitable darker-skinned man who’d just hosted the event, and a man the shade of sandalwood standing just behind him.

They’re both wearing the same type of muted cardigan as Miles, but they’ve got actual coats.

“Y’all were in the front, right?” Miles asks the both of them, though he’s only looking at Margo.

She nods wordlessly. Zoe picks up the slack.

“M-hm, you were great up there! You’ve really never shown anyone your work ‘till tonight?”

Miles snorts at the wording of the phrase. ‘His work’.

“I wrote that poem in high school,” he says, rubbing the back of his neck. 

“Wasn’t supposed to be anything serious, but my roommate…” 

He gives the dark-skinned man a dirty look. 

“...swiped my journal and found it. Told me I should read it out loud somewhere.”

Margo examines Miles’ face and imagines him as a baby-faced high-schooler, sitting in the back of the classroom with a protective arm around the beat-up red composition notebook he’s writing in. He stuffs it in his bag as soon as he’s done, because he has just poured his heart out onto that page, and his crush’s name is in there. Maybe there are tiny doodles of her in the margins.

“Yo,” the sandalwood-colored man claps Miles on the shoulder. “We about to hit up Tiff’s place, you coming?”

“Yeah, in a minute,” Miles nods dismissively. “I’ll catch up with y’all.”

The two other men give each other a knowing look before brushing past him.

“Alright man, catch you later then.”

Once she finally regains the ability to speak, Margo remarks, “You were the only performance I really liked, if I’m being honest.”

“Is that so?” 

“Oh yeah, this one hates poetry,” Zoe places a hand on Margo’s shoulder and laughs. “Tried to change her mind by bringing her over here, but no dice.”

Miles raised an eyebrow. “What made mine so different?”

“Hm, I dunno…” Margo’s eyes float over his form before making their way back up to his face. “Your delivery, I guess.”

Safe to say, he looks amusedly unconvinced.

“My…delivery.”

She catches herself and quickly adds, “I-I mean, it also kinda felt like everyone else was trying too hard. So.”

He tilts his head at the remark.

“Are you just saying that to flatter me?”

.“I don’t flatter people. Too close to lying.”

“That sounds like half a poem already. Maybe you should go up there next week.”

She gives him a lopsided smile.

“Only if you’re there. I need something to actually look forward to.”

His tongue darts out and passes over his lips.

“What’s your name?”

“Margo.”

Miles hums, softly repeating the name before inching his way over to the counter where he leans his hip on it.

“Pretty. Can I buy you a drink, Margo?”

She doesn’t think her name is all that pretty, but he makes it sound that way.

“Knock yourself out.”

“I’ll leave you two alone,” Zoe teases as she rises from her seat. “I’m gonna go order us some sushi.”

Miles takes the stool to Margo’s left as he waits on their drinks, his long legs never needing to leave the ground to do so.

He has a funny way of sitting, hands folded neatly in front of him with his back just a few degrees off from being perfectly straight. As if you needed to look distinguished at a sushi bar.

Church boy, Margo guessed. That, or his daddy’s a military man.

It’s adorable either way.

“You in school?” she asked.

“Yup. Princeton.”

Her eyes lit up.

“Oh shit, me too! I’ve never seen you on campus, though. What’s your major?”

“Physics. You?”

“Comp Sci. Been coding since I was in middle school, so…”

Margo remembers the echoing ‘click-clack’ of her keyboard as she sat in an empty computer lab for hours on end after school because she preferred it to her parents’ house.

The bartender hands Miles two glasses of white wine, and he sets the second glass in front of Margo, his warm eyes still focused on her. 

She’s intrigued by how clear they are - no trace of suspicion or calculation behind them. Just the warmth.

“So, where you from? My folks are over in Brooklyn.”

“Georgia.”

Miles’ brows jump to his hairline.

“Damn. What brought you all the way up here?”

To get as far away as possible. 

“Well, it’s Princeton,” she says beneath a forced laugh.

“Yeah, but you got, like, eight different HBCUs over there. How’d Princeton win you over?”

Margo breaks eye contact to stare into her drink.

“Needed a change of pace.”

When she looks up to gauge Miles’ reaction, skepticism is written all over his face. But he doesn’t push it further.

“That’s fair. Princeton’s got a cutting-edge quantum physics program that I’m aiming for. Had to beg my parents to come here,” he grins proudly, “but here I am.”

Margo is silent for a moment.

“Can I tell you something?” she asks suddenly, beckoning Miles to lean in.

“Yeah?”

Grinning, she half-whispers, “I’m actually here on a scholarship.”

He gives her an odd look. 

“Why’d you say it like that? Nothin’ wrong with getting a full ride. The opposite, actually.”

“Some people might feel otherwise. You’re like, the second person I’ve told other than my parents.”

“And why me?” Miles chuckles. “My poetry was just that good?”

“I just…Hm.”

Margo leans back and takes a contemplative sip of her wine, watching him over the rim of her glass. 

Why did she just tell him that?

“I guess I just sorta felt like telling you.”

Margo cautiously sets the wine back down. She figures if she’s not careful, he’ll have her full government name and social security number by the end of the night.

“Y’know, I actually get that a lot,” Miles laughs. “One time, I had this lady I was standing in line with at Target turn around and just start telling me stories about her dead son and how much she misses him. And it’s like, I’m sorry for your loss, but we’re in Target right now and I literally do not know you.”

“Wait, people just go up to you and…tell you shit?”

“Yup. There was this other time at church, too. Just as service ends and I’m about to get up and leave, this short old dude–Dominican, I think–stops me and starts telling me about his entire life. I’m talking start to finish! Apparently I reminded him of his nephew that died in the military or something.”

“Jesus.”

A crease forms between Margo’s brows. She wishes she could say she didn’t understand the old man at church or the lady at Target, but she does. No, it’s not the poetry. It’s got nothing to do with words. 

It’s the way that Miles looks at people. 

Like he already knows all of your secrets, but you’re not worried because they’re safe with him, so might as well tell them. It’s a merciful sort of gaze; you get the impression that he won’t judge you. You might even tell him more after his friendly ‘boy-next-door’ voice coaxes them out of you. The thought unsettles her because she had done just that.

“You ever had a girlfriend before?” She asks, all of a sudden.

Miles shrugs, “Yeah, in tenth grade, then again freshman year. Didn’t really work out.”

“Why not?”

His brows furrow gently for just a second, as if he’s still trying to figure out the answer to that.

“I…don’t know, actually. It goes well the first few months and then…”

“It fizzles out?”

“I get ghosted. Something about how they’re ‘not ready’. Understandable, I guess, but you don’t have to ghost me, y’know?”

He awkwardly examines his fingers, then his glass. 

Margo feels a bit guilty for suddenly bringing up his exes when they’d just met. Would they end up the same way? She saw herself there too, being in a relationship for six months before his weird pastor’s eyes get to be a bit too much and she takes off.

“Yikes, sorry I asked.”

“It’s no problem,” a smile starts to return to his face. “Onto better things, right?”

“Right.”

“And you?”

“Huh?”

“You ever been in a relationship before?”

Margo smiles awkwardly and messes with one of her fingernails.

“Well…not exactly.”

Miles’ eyes widen.

“Never?”

“I mean, guys offer, and then we talk for a little bit, but then…”

“They flake out on you.”

“Pretty much.”

“Damn shame,” he says with a bit of sharpness to his voice. “Not even a first date?”

“Nope, just ‘Read at 4:15’.”

“You know what I think it is?”

Just as he asks this, his knee brushes against her thigh. Margo isn’t sure if it’s an accident, but it distracts her nonetheless.

“What?”

“You’re too smart for them, I can tell. It scares ‘em.” But it doesn’t scare me, is the suggestion.

He smiles then, the kind that shows the whiteness of his teeth on every vowel. It’s wide enough that a dimple comes out of hiding on his left cheek, and she suddenly wants to tell him everything again. She takes another sip of wine.

“So! What’d I miss?”

Zoe finally returns from ordering their sushi at the front with an expectant grin. Miles still hasn’t taken his eyes off of her friend, while she is staring at him like a string of code, which, if you know Margo, is better than nothing.

“You didn’t miss much,” says Margo. “We were just talkin’ about our majors. School stuff.”

Miles checks his phone and lets out a low whistle.

“Well, it was lovely meeting y’all, but I gotta bounce. After getting dragged onstage, I get to be dragged over to a house party, too.”

Just as he rises from his seat, he stops and points at her.

“Before I go, though, d’you mind giving me your digits? I’d love to talk about, uh…computer science…over lunch.”

She snorts, “Who still says ‘digits’?” but hands him her phone anyway. 

It couldn’t hurt to try. 

“Sure.”

His eyes light up as if he wasn’t expecting her to say yes as he saves his number as ‘poetry slam guy’ in her phone, then hands it back.

“Cool,” Miles begins his walk towards the entrance backwards, holding eye contact for just a little longer before turning around. “G’night!”

“Goodnight!” the two women call out in unison as he leaves.

Margo looks to her left at the now-empty bar stool. The glass of wine Miles left on the counter is full, completely untouched.

It’s still on her mind as she's sitting in her single dorm room, re-writing her lecture notes on cyber security in a meticulous neat print that could almost pass for a font.

Every few minutes her pen stops because she’s distracted by the sound of clinking glass in boxes downstairs, or because she pauses to stare at the white wall in front of her that brings to mind one of the lines of Miles’ poem. 

There might be a spider that I can’t see sitting ten feet away from me right this second, she muses to herself. The thought gives her an idea, and the perfect excuse to call him without seeming too desperate.

Margo unlocks her phone and scrolls through her contacts. She smiles to herself at the contact name Miles chose. Did he think she’d forget his name that easily? 

His voice soon filters through the speaker.

“Hey, you didn’t throw out my number!”

“Yup, lucky you.” she replies. “I wanted to ask you a question? About your poem the other night.”

“What about it?”

“See, I was thinking about that first line. Are we really never more than ten feet away from a spider? Like, at any given moment?”

There’s a moment of silence from Miles before he asks:

“You…called me just to ask me that?”

“What? It’s a very pressing issue! There’s probably one in the corner  of my room as we speak!”

“Alright, I’ll humor you,” Miles laughs. “That’s actually a myth from the 90s. Your distance from the nearest spider really depends on where you’re at, so if you’re in a spot with hella bugs, you’re more likely to see one. You’re probably fine.”

“Now wait just a minute!” Margo gasps dramatically. “So you lied to all those poor folks in there?”

“Sure did. Played ‘em all like a fiddle.”

“Terrible.”

“So, why’d you really call? You don’t sound as concerned about spiders as you say you are, if I’m being honest.”

So much for an excuse.

“Don’t nothing get past you, huh?”

This earns a burst of laughter from Miles’ end.

“You’re a worse liar than me, I wouldn’t recommend making it a habit.”

“Ugh, fine,” Margo admits,  “I just wanted to hear your voice.”

“You could hear my voice in real life, you know. Offer’s still on the table, and I’m free today.”

Their second conversation, and already a lunch date? But as she’s reminded of what his voice sounds like, she quickly realizes that just the voice is not enough. 

Still, she tries to sound casual and makes a non-committal noise.

“Better than being cooped up in my room all day.”

“Great! Where you wanna go?”

Margo shrugs as if he can see her on the other end.

“Wherever you wanna go.”

“Ah, the ‘wherever you wanna go’ paradox,” he chuckles. “Okay, well–lemme ask you this then. Do you like eating with or without music?”

There’s a beat of silence as she considers.

“Hm…is the music good?”

“I’d never subject anyone to a place that plays shit music. Promise.”

“Music, then.”

“Cool, what time works for you?”

“How does two sound? I’ll catch you in front of the Engineering Library.”

“Bet. See you in an hour, then!”

-

The place Miles chose had a live band playing at the front.

A bass player, a keyboard pianist, a saxophonist, and a few background vocalists on occasion. All are propelled forward by the rapid-fire snare of the drummer. It’s jazz - the easy, conversational kind you hear in the background of 90s romantic comedies where the love interest wears nothing but dark lip liner and filled-in brows with a bit of smokey eyeshadow in the crease.

This is the look that Margo has decided to go for as she sits across from Miles at a mahogany table positioned ideally by the window.

It was all she could do other than frantically adjust the braided 'fro-hawk sitting atop her head and spin around in a mist of ‘Champagne Toast’ before bolting out the door.

She doubts he can even smell it right now through the curry and garlic.

“Figured out what you want yet?” Miles asks as he looks over his menu at Margo.

“Eh, I dunno,” she replies, running her index finger down her own menu. “I’m tryin’ not to blow half my paycheck on pasta right now.”

Miles gives her a strange look, then it clicks.

“Oh! Lunch is on me,” he laughs. “Your bank account’s safe for now.”

Her head snaps up.

“You should’ve mentioned that! I thought we were going half and half this whole time, I had my whole budget for the week planned out.”

Margo has to hold back an ugly cackle at the look of horror on Miles’ face right after she says this.

“I’m gonna pretend you didn’t just say that.”

With this new information in mind, she orders a bowl of chicken alfredo with a glass of lemonade that she sips on as the band seamlessly transitions into a cover of Solange’s ‘Cranes in the Sky’.

“So, Margo,” Miles rests his chin on his knuckles and squints his eyes comically. 

“If that is your real name.”

Margo giggles, and plays along.

“It’s not, it’s my alter-ego for when I go on top-secret missions.”

“Is it short for something? Or just Margo?”

“Hm,” she puts on an affected, ‘action movie’ voice, “If I tell you, I might have to kill you.”

“It’s worse ways to die out there.”

Margo looks around her as if to make sure no one’s listening, then leans in.

“It’s short for Marguerite.”

Miles snaps his fingers.

“I knew it!”

“What? You think I look like a Marguerite? Seriously?”

“No, but you got a lil’ country twang in your voice. Ain’t no way in hell Margo wasn’t short for something.”

“Man, alright,” she laughed. 

“Ain’t nothin’ wrong with that,” he winked, “I like ‘em country.”

“Boy, don’t give me that! You look like you’d pass out at the sight of a jar of pig’s feet.”

“Hey now, I got family in South Carolina. I used to go down there and see about ten of those every summer.”

“Fine, but you were still raised a Northerner. I could hear the Brooklyn from a mile away.”

Miles removed his hand from under his chin to clutch his chest.

“Ugh, I feel like I’m caught between two worlds!”

The reference to one of the more choice lines from the poetry slam makes Margo snort and let out a loud guffaw, which she quickly muffles with the palm of her hand.

“Why would you remind me of that!”

Miles is soon infected by the fit of laughter and has to put all his strength into not doubling over at the table and drawing attention.

“This nigga said,” he wheezed, “ ‘I keep doing the Achy Breaky to Suavemente!’ “

“I thought I was the only one who thought that shit sucked,” Margo sighed as she wiped a tear from her eye. “But I didn’t wanna be mean ‘cuz I’m not like, half Puerto Rican, or anything like that.”

“Well I am, and that whole poem felt like a microaggression. And I knew that guy!” He starts gesturing wildly with his hands at the outrage, which Margo finds hilarious. 

“He's like, one-eighth Boricua. His last name is fuckin’ Schwartz!” Miles scoffs, “He don’t know shit about no damn ‘Suavemente’. Bet he looked it up.”

“You should write your own poem, then. ‘Take up space’, as they say.”

“Hell no,” he said. “I left that behind in high school. The other night was an exception, remember?”

“Look, I’m not one to encourage more people to become poets, but you never know. Something might inspire you.”

Miles calms down and gives her a meaningful look.

“Maybe.”

The rest of the conversation saw Miles slyly gathering intel through bites of roasted chicken. He’d quickly learned from their meeting at the bar that his line of questioning with Margo ought to be less direct.

He even hit her with the ‘what’s your sign’ question, though Biggie would’ve advised against it (Margo was a Libra, he was a Leo). He didn’t actually care for astrology, but Margo wasted no time in proclaiming that she couldn’t stand Scorpios because they were ‘too nosy’. 

Miles’ only error was asking if she’d ever dated–correction–spoken to one, and her eyes hardened with suspicion again. He quickly elected to change the subject.

“Okay, totally random question, but humor me. How do you like your eggs?”

Margo blinks twice.

“What?”

“You heard me. You can tell a lot about a person by what kinda eggs they like, true shit.”

“Alright, fine. I like ‘em fried, with the crispy edges. What that say about me?”

“I dunno, but when I find out it’ll all make sense.”

Margo laughs.

“Okay, well, how do you like your eggs?”

“Scrambled, fluffy,” A childish grin spread across Miles’ lips. “And seasoned with Adobo to make ‘em all orange.”

“Never had ‘em like that before.”

“Maybe I could make some for you sometime, if you’d let me.”

“Maybe.”

She remembers his promise a month later when she wakes up to the aroma of the seasoning and hears the pop of frying oil, letting out a sigh of relief at the realization that Miles is still there.

His back is facing her when she enters the kitchen, the morning light illuminating a tattoo she had never seen before. 

It’s a spider with sprawling legs that cascade all the way down the expanse of skin, the movement of his shoulder blades bringing them partially to life. She hadn’t noticed it in the dark, and he was not one to walk around in anything revealing enough for it to have ever seen daylight. It’s faded, which means he’s likely had it for years.

He’s only twenty-one, she thinks. Did he get it in high school?

Amusement creeps onto Margo’s face at the image of Miles sneaking around the house, darting in and out of the bathroom to clean it without his hawk-eyed mother or straight-edged father taking notice. Picturing this, it’s suddenly much easier to believe that their son would have to beg and plead for them to send him a measly forty-six miles away for school, even for an Ivy League. 

Miles doesn’t turn around yet, but Margo catches the way he stops, tilting his head playfully and placing a hand on his hip.

“Man, I can’t believe I’mma have to eat this whole thing of scrambled eggs all by myself, with the ones I just fried! How sad.” “You’re not very funny,” Margo says with a smile, pulling out a chair from beneath the dining table.

He switches the stove off, then does a dramatic spin to face her with fake surprise on his face.

“Oh! Where’d you come from? I didn’t see you there.”

He turns back around to grab two plates–ceramic ones, not the stack of styrofoam ones–from one of the cupboards to serve the eggs in, starting with fried.

Margo watches him silently. The tiny, squint-or-you-might-miss-it gold chain around his neck catches the light as he moves, and she remembers feeling the cold metal brush across her lips.

“The fried ones, are they–”

“Crispy at the edges?” he finishes, with a smile in his voice. “Yes ma’am!”

“You could really be a detective, can’t get nothing past you.”

“You’ve said that before.”

“See?”

The two burst into laughter, and the ink on Miles’ back does also. His poem was accurate, in a way. For the past five weeks, Margo has been no more than ten feet away from a spider.

They have a brief and quiet breakfast, wherein Margo finally asks to try the scrambled eggs and is delighted by the burst of flavor added by the Adobo. They aren’t too dry or too soggy the way they tend to be in restaurants - just fluffy, as promised. She thinks it might be time to finally start taking Miles at his word as she watches his back again while he’s washing dishes.

Once he is fully dressed and about to leave, Miles stops suddenly, as if he’s forgotten something. He reaches into the left pocket of his jacket and pulls out a neatly-folded sheet of paper, nervously running his other hand through the short dreads sitting atop his head.

“Before I leave, I, uh…I took your advice and wrote a lil’ something.”

He hands it to Margo, who takes it gingerly. 

“Well, good for you.”

“It’s been a while, so it’s kinda rough, but hopefully the sentiment is there.”

Miles plants a quick kiss on her cheek, and she smiles easily for once as opposed to the usual raised eyebrow.

“I’ll be sure to let you know if it is.”

Some time after he leaves, she finally sits down to read it while sipping on a cup of tea, because coffee wreaks havoc on her nerves. His handwriting is strange, overly graphic as if it’s the title card of a cartoon, but she reads it.

I know you don't like poetry 

but you said you liked mine,

and the way you sip your wine

has set my pen to paper,

so I hope 

you'll make another exception. 

You've already claimed

half of my sketchbook 

because I just can't get your eyes right.

I always make ‘em too soft,

or too round.

They don't pierce through me,

like they did when

you stared at me over your glass,

eyes narrowed.

When you search my face

and pick me apart,

I'd like to know what it is 

you're always searching for.

[salty-croissants]

Tu sais je vais t’aimer ( Bullfrog x g/n reader )

It’s been a while since I made a story unrelated to requests … I just felt like doing something a little different since I recently noticed that we have reached 110 followers , which is just - 

Broo !! :,0

I really wanted to take the opportunity to thank you all so much for being so supportive of my little headcanons and stories for Bullfrog and Rayman , you’re all really amazing and kind and you’ve really made me feel like home here on Tumblr …

I may be a bit too busy and ( most of all ) shy to interact much with everyone , but I really do appreciate you guys … thank you so much , I mean it :,) ❤️

Now then , onto the actual story , I’ve recently stumbled upon this beautiful French song , and at some point a random inspiration for a Bullfrog fic hit me : 

what if the reader decided to surprise their beloved frog boy by singing him this song ? Maybe for a special occasion , like the one year anniversary of the relationship ? 

It just seemed too wholesome of a concept for me to let go , so I ended up writing this :,) 

I also added a translation in English for the lyrics , because it’s just so cute and it melted my heart when I read it ;//; 

Hope this turned out okay ! 

Details : use of g/n reader who likes to sing and can play piano ; 

established relationship ; 

no warnings needed 

It had been a very long , tiresome day for Bullfrog …

The last mission the Warden had assigned him and his companions had been filled with complications , and this could easily be guessed by his bruises and ripped clothes .

Even as someone who took pride in his job , he yearned for nothing more than to find a quiet place to rest … hopefully in the arms of his beloved .

He also hadn’t forgotten about what a special time this was , so before going back to you he had managed to pass by a flower shop and buy a bouquet of your favorite flowers : the thought of your smile in front of his gift was the one thing that was keeping him from dropping on the ground for sheer exhaustion .

< I’m back mon amour ! Sorry for being late , this was a much more difficult task than I anticipated … > 

Bullfrog stopped , slightly alarmed by the fact that you weren’t behind the door to greet him like usual :

you were always so happy to see him whenever he got back , so it was quite strange …

He closed the door as quietly as possible and begun to walk , attentive to every single sound to avoid anything sneaking by him .

If something had happened to you , he was more than ready to rescue you and defend you from any possible threat , exhausted or not …

But it was then that he heard it : someone was playing the piano in the living room , and when he finally reached it his eyes widened …

You were there , as beautiful as ever , and as soon as your eyes met you smiled softly at him and started to sing …

< Tu sais je vais t'aimer même sans ta présence 

( You know I'm going to love you even without your presence ) 

Je vais t'aimer même sans espérance 

( I will love you even without hope )

Je vais t'aimer tous les jours de ma vie 🎶 

( I will love you all the days of my life ) > 

Bullfrog wanted to say so many things in that very moment , and yet he was so overwhelmed by joy that he couldn’t bring himself to speak …

He just walked forward , sitting on a chair next to you while listening to the sound of your voice .

< Dans mes poèmes, je t'écrirai c'est toi que j'aime …

( In my poems I will write to you it is you that I love ) 

C'est toi que j'aimerai tous les jours de ma vie🎶 

( It's you that I would love all the days of my life ) > 

He looked up at you in awe , nodding his head to the beat , and as soon as the song ended and your hands left the piano you finally turned around once more to look at your boyfriend .

< Happy anniversary , love ~ 

God , you won’t believe how many months it took to learn how to pronounce everything correctly … buut , I just really wanted to do something special for you , you know ? I hope I didn’t butcher too many words … 

Also sorry for being so quiet before , I didn’t mean to scare you , but I wanted to surprise you and - > 

Worry immediately filled your eyes when you took a better look and noticed the bruises on his face , but Bullfrog shook his head , caressing your cheek with one hand …

< Don’t you think about that my dear , it’s nothing … besides , receiving something so beautiful from you as a gift was enough to make it all better . > 

He smiled at you tenderly , watching you leave a kiss on his palm .

< Thank you , y/n … je t'aime tellement … ~ > 

You let out a little chuckle , unable to stop your cheeks from turning red in front of his loving words …

< I love you too , Bullfrog … I’m really lucky to have you , you know ? > 

Before you could even realize it , the distance between your faces diminished more and more , until eventually your lips met into a much anticipated and needed kiss .

You closed your eyes , letting out a sigh while holding Bullfrog in your arms , and you could feel all the tension in his body instantly melt to your touch as he gladly leaned into it …

Eventually you both pulled away , staring into each other’s eyes and enjoying that precious moment of intimacy .

< We should probably get you patched up now , sweetie … those bruises look painful . > 

< Alright alright , but before that , here … > 

< *gasp* - you remembered my favorite flowers ! Thank you Bullfrog , these look beautiful ! > 

< Don’t mention it mon cher , it’s not quite as good as your gift , but … > 

< Are you kidding ? I love them ! We should put them in some water before they start wilting … > 

As the two of you carried on with your conversations , glad to finally be together , the sun started to disappear behind the tall skyscrapers of the city … some of the nightly neon lights were already starting to illuminate the crowded streets .

It had certainly been a one year anniversary to remember .

[sona-verse01]

PAC

CHANNELLED LOVE QUOTES & SONGS

Take deep breath, and choose the picture/number that calls you.

Quotes from your Future spouse/partner (not your crush).

Disclaimer:

Images/quotes/songs are not mine. Found on internet.

Since, I am very bad in writing quotes, I channel messages & feelings, then search for suitable quotes on internet, that have same message.

Some quotes are a part of a song or poem. Others are written by writers.

Quotes are chosen on the basis of your FS/FP's energy, feelings & messages.

For entertainment purpose.

Don't copy/steal/translate my work.

Songs are in Indian languages, so if you don't understand that language, you can look for translation or just leave it.

Pile 1

Quotes:

"I fell in love the way you fall asleep: slowly, and then all at once."

"Hit me like a ray of sun, Burning through my darkest night. You're the only one that I want, Think I'm addicted to your light."

"If I had a single flower for every time I think about you, I could walk through my garden forever."

"He's more myself than I am. Whatever our souls are made of, his and mine are the same."

"Take me into your loving arms, Kiss me under the light of a thousand stars, Place your head on my beating heart, I'm thinking out loud, Maybe we found love right where we are."

"Being with you and not being with you is the only way I have to measure time."

"Grow old along with me; the best is yet to be."

"Every love story is beautiful, but ours is my favorite."

"Because of you, I laugh a little harder, cry a little less, and smile a lot more."

"I like to be alone. But I would rather be alone with you."

Songs:

Pile 2

Quotes:

"How do I love thee? Let me count the ways. I love thee to the depth and breadth and height, My soul can reach."

"Cause all of me loves all of you. Love your curves and all your edges, all your perfect imperfections."

"Love is patient, love is kind. It does not envy, it does not boast, it is not proud. It does not dishonor others, it is not self-seeking, it is not easily angered, it keeps no record of wrongs. Love does not delight in evil but rejoices with the truth. It always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always perseveres."

"Absence is to love as wind is to fire; it extinguishes the small and kindles the great."

"I carry your heart with me (i carry it in my heart)."

'"How do you spell 'love'?" - Piglet. "You don't spell it...you feel it." - Pooh'

"I may not be your first date, kiss or love... but I want to be your last everything."

"One day, we'll never have to say goodbye, just good night."

"When you smile at me you brighten up my day more than the sun ever could."

"When you realize you want to spend the rest of your life with somebody, you want the rest of your life to start as soon as possible."

Songs:

Pile 3

Quotes:

"Baby it's you. You're the one I love, You're the one I need, You're the only one I see."

"When I say I love you more, I don't mean I love you more than you love me. I mean I love you more than the bad days ahead of us, I love you more than any fight we will ever have. I love you more than the distance between us, I love you more than any obstacle that could try and come between us. I love you the most."

"Maybe I don't know that much but I know this much is true, I was blessed because I was loved by you."

"Love is missing someone when you're apart, but somehow feeling warm inside because you're close in the heart."

"You don't love someone for their looks, or their clothes or for their fancy car, but because they sing a song only you can hear."

"Love is friendship set on fire and you are my spark."

"If I know what love is, it is because of you."

"I hope you don't mind that I put down in words, How wonderful life is while you're in the world."

"Come live in my heart and pay no rent."

"Together with you is my favorite place to be."

Songs:

Pile 4

Quotes:

"Immature love says: 'I love you because I need you.' Mature love says 'I need you because I love you.'"

"Life is a flower of which love is the honey."

"Don't want to close my eyes, I don't want to fall asleep, 'Cause I'd miss you baby, and I don't want to miss a thing."

"Romance is the glamour which turns the dust of everyday life into a golden haze."

"For it was not into my ear you whispered, but into my heart. It was not my lips you kissed, but my soul."

"Love is composed of a single soul inhabiting two bodies."

"Love is a friendship set to music."

"For the two of us, home isn't a place. It is a person. And we are finally home."

"Being deeply loved by someone gives you strength, while loving someone deeply gives you courage."

"Love is not only something you feel, it is something you do."

Songs:

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© @sp22sworld - All Rights Reserved

[jessamine-rose]

꒰ THE SPIDER AND THE FLY - Author’s Note ꒱

Read The Spider and the Fly here ٩(ˊᗜˋ*)و

It’s finished…I wrote my Yandere! Miguel O’Hara longfic and lived to tell the tale. Istg not a day has gone by without me cursing Miguel bc of this. To those who’ve already read their story, thank you so much for your lovely tears feedback  (˵ •̀ ᴗ - ˵ )

With that over, it’s time for another Author’s Note!! This is just me rambling about my writing process, headcanons, and creative details in this fic. I hope y’all enjoy this behind-the-scenes perspective <3

“Since the loss of his family, Miguel O'Hara has avoided every Variant of his wife. Then he meets you, a special exception—a version of her whose salvation lies in his interference.” (AO3 Summary)

꒰ Introduction ꒱

♡ Fun fact, the only reason why I got into Spiderverse was bc my socmeds were flooded with Miguel O’Hara. My brainrot was so bad that the fanfics weren’t enough; and even then, I didn’t expect this idea to reach 7.6k words. It was also my first attempt at dual POV and more detailed spice ( ´•̥̥∇•̥̥` )

♡ One major inspiration for this fic was the popular “Miguel falls for his wife’s Variant” trope, and I hope you all enjoyed my take on that idea!! Giving Variant! Darling her own angsty backstory was a must, given my fondness for twisted happy endings <3

♡ Before I continue, I want to thank the following mutuals for making this fic possible!! @yandere-romanticaa for dragging me into the Miguel O’Hara fandom, @diodellet for being the world’s best beta-reader, and @yanmaresu for helping me with the Spanish translations~

꒰ Characters ꒱

♡ We don’t talk about how much Miguel O’Hara tormented me in my attempts to properly write his character. I headcanon him as a strict, overprotective yandere who is only cruel to his darling if provoked. I find his dynamic with Variant! Darling particularly interesting as it opens up his guilt, trauma, and breeding kink yearning for his lost family.

♡ Variant! Darling is the unhappiest version of Miguel’s wife. She has low self-esteem and impostor syndrome, which gets worse as she learns about her more successful Variants. As a result, she craves external validation but doesn’t believe she deserves it. Despite her inferiority complex, she does has positive traits and skills which her other versions don’t have.

♡ LYLA, my love!! I had a lot of fun writing her scenes. She is simply the best wingman/ voice of reason that ever lived, and one of the few people allowed to interact with Variant! Darling.

꒰ Literary Motifs ꒱

♡ The Spider and the Fly by Mary Howitt - Cheers to Miguel reminding me of a poem from my childhood. It was the main inspiration for the title, Darling’s character, and other details~

♡ The red thread of fate - referenced at the end of iv. triangle web purely out of self-indulgence. I just rlly love that motif, and it helps that Miguel’s webs are also red xD

♡ Spiderweb varieties - I couldn’t think of anything else for the section dividers, thus I embarked on online research ft. unavoidable spider pics. The webs were picked for the following reasons::

i. spiral orb web - the most basic and common web design

ii. funnel web - hiding place for spider, used for surprise attacks

iii. lace web - I ran out of common web varieties and it sounds pretty

iv. triangle web - not sticky, fuzzy threads used to entangle and smother prey

v. mesh web - similar to cobwebs but found outdoors, used to entangle prey

vi. cobweb - sticky, irregular, tangled, found indoors

vii. sheet web - typically permanent, regularly repaired by the spider

꒰ My Favorite Scenes ꒱

♡ vii. sheet web

Mere words cannot describe how many times I died revising this chapter. It was pretty difficult to write due to my inexperience with smut, my fear of making Miguel OOC, and the transition from noncon to angst to comfort. Ultimately, I think I did a decent job at writing emotional smut and indulging my hornii thoughts for Miguel. What do you guys think?? I’d love to hear your thoughts ^^;

꒰ Miguel x Variant! Darling’s Playlist ꒱

Cue me going “!! :0” when I realized that the first song is a perfect fit for The Spider and the Fly. At least Miguel and Variant! Darling got their twisted happy ending <;/3

♡ Yesterday by Official Hige Dandism

♡ Overdose by natori

♡ Cinderella by DECO*27

♡ Delphinium by Remo

♡ BLUE by LUCKY TAPES ft. kojikoji

♡

That’s all I have to say!! Once again, thank you so much to all of my readers. Your feedback means the world to me, so just know that every comment gave me a serotonin boost. It is my sincere hope that more of you will cry over enjoy this while I recover from the mental turmoil of writing for Miguel O’Hara ꒰｡- ᴗ - ｡꒱