#they’re meant to be in love your honor

[notyourdaisybuchanan]

I just think it's special that Rooster and Hangman have kind of equal and parallel journeys in terms of character + flying development over the course of the film. What I mean is that their big individual triumphant moments in the narrative use their piloting choices to reflect emotional development. The film shows us from the start that they each have a Big Flaw--and the finale shows them overcoming these flaws.

Not only that, but the narrative uses their dynamic to introduce these individual shortcomings to us, the audience. Their first on screen conversation with each other is how we learn about their Big Flaws in the first place. Because of their relationship and the way they interact, we know how Rooster and Hangman are going to fly before we ever see them in the air.

For Rooster, it's "snug on that perch, waiting for just the right moment...that never comes.” We hear this over and over again, from both Hangman and Maverick–"Now you got it, don't think, just do." "Rooster, you got him, drop down and take the shot!" "Too late, had your chance.” "...same old Rooster." "You're not. flying. fast enough. You don't have a second to waste." This is Rooster’s Big Flaw–he doesn’t trust himself. He flies too slow, and he’s too careful, too hesitant in moments when he needs to believe in his abilities and let instinct take over. This is what Maverick and Hangman are trying to pound into his head the whoooole time. 

And then he’s on the mission, and Fanboy’s laser doesn’t work. And instead of waiting, well: "There's no time, I'm dropping blind." "Bullseye bullseye bullseye!"

This moment is HUGE for him. Fanboy is literally telling him to wait so he can line it up, and maybe a prior Rooster would have done that, but this Rooster has finally learned that he gets one chance and he has to take the shot that's in front of him. [Cue Hangman cheering.] The decision he makes as a pilot in this moment shows that he's learned what Maverick and Hangman were trying to teach him and that he's grown emotionally. He's more sure of himself now–he was always capable of taking the shot, but now he actually trusts himself to do it.

And then we have Hangman, Bagman, Mr. "Where's he going?" "That's why we call him Hangman, he'll always hang you out to dry." "Leaving your wingman, there's a strategy I haven't seen in a while." He's not a good team player; he flies solo both literally and metaphorically. We hear this over and over again, especially from Rooster–"Watch your back, Phoenix." "You put your team in danger and your wingman's dead." Hangman’s response? “They couldn't keep up." (And I can't stop thinking about "Hangman, the only place you'll lead anyone is an early grave." There's so much history there, and so much belief from Rooster that Hangman is Not a person to depend on in a moment of crisis.)

But then, Hangman’s ultimate moment of triumph is that he refuses to leave Maverick and Rooster hanging, that he is the one person who has their backs in a moment of crisis. We see exactly how concerned he is while waiting on the carrier, and we see him ASK to go engage in the fight to fly cover for his squad when the bandits aren’t even attacking anyone yet!! Like I could seriously cry about "Dagger spare, request permission to launch and fly air cover." Because he is specifically asking so that Rooster can go back and get Mav, something that we know is completely at odds with his Big Flaw. And then we see him presumably disobey orders to show up and save Maverick and Rooster's lives anyway. He learned from Maverick and Rooster–he's part of a team now, those are his wingmen out there, and he's not leaving them behind. 

So the film uses their big triumphant moments in the air to show Rooster and Hangman overcoming their respective flaws. It’s part of what makes the action of the finale so fucking good, because while yes, it is very satisfying action on its own, it’s also rooted in their character development. We’re not just happy that Rooster made the shot, we’re happy because Rooster making the shot means something about him. We’re happy that Hangman is the one to come through for Rooster and Mav because that means something about him and his growth.

The most iconic part is that the traits they each needed to adopt belonged to the other. Rooster is set up from the start as the pilot who won’t leave his wingman, even when it’s gonna cost him–“Should be us down there.” “But it’s not. And now you know a little something about Rooster.” This is the exact thing Hangman struggles with, and it’s what he overcomes to have his moment of triumph. Meanwhile Hangman is set up as the one who flies by instinct–”Yeah, you’re good, I’ll give you that.” He flies fast, he doesn’t overthink, and above all, he trusts himself as a pilot. This is the exact thing Rooster struggles with, and it’s what he has to overcome to have his moment of triumph. 

The fact that the two of them have parallel arcs like this? The fact that they both learn to be better, more complete pilots by adopting the strength that comes naturally to the other?

I just think that's beautiful.

[mercurial-vagabond]

the way scully always follows mulder to whatever stupid and/or dangerous scenario without fail is just so good. like “i love this man so much that i refuse to let his actions catch up to him alone”

[lovclyboncs]

I was rewatching naruto with my sister and I fell down the madatobi hole 🕳️ I love them

I really want to write something for them

[roseheartss]

Tw accidental self harm. nothing too intentional but happens nonetheless Some raindrop hurt/comfort to soothe the soul. Enjoy :)

Thinking about Rain completely falling apart over a massive (albeit quite silly) argument with Dew. The poor ghoul has been progressively feeling worse and worse all week until he finally just snapped. Dewdrop, being in the wrong place at the wrong time, was the unfortunate victim, and boy, did he fight back hard.

The two yelled nasty words at each other, none of which they actually meant, but in the heat of the moment, came out regardless. After finally storming off their separate ways, Rain’s adrenaline came crashing down hard. His anger creeps back into the deep sorrow he’d been feeling, this time tinged with traces of regret and embarrassment. He couldn’t help but shove himself into the corner of his room. Big, fat tears rolling freely down his flushed cheeks as he tries to bite back his sobs, arms folded around himself too tightly to be anything but painful.

Through the quickly growing, all-consuming panic, Rain doesn’t hear the small tapping of knuckles against his door. He doesn’t hear the door creaking open, nor does he hear the footsteps rushing over to him. He jumps as warm hands grab his own, prying his claws away from his now bleeding arms.

“Hey hey hey. None of that. Squeeze my hands instead, Otter. I’ve got you.”

Dewdrop, Rain’s mind supplies him. He tenses up, unsure of whether he should lean into the loving touch or curl away to prevent hurting Dew any further than he already has. This doesn’t make any sense. Why is he here?

“Can you take some deep breaths for me, bub? I’m right here. You’re okay.” Dewdrop rubbed slow, methodical circles onto the backs of Rain’s hands attempting to coax the ghoul back into a normal breathing pattern.

“You shouldn’t be here. I hurt you,” Rain finally managed to choke out as his sobs slowed down.

“Yes, I may be a little bit hurt and upset by what you said, but Otter, that doesn’t mean I’m not going to come right back here to keep you safe. That will always be more important to me than some stupid argument.”

At this, Rain finally let himself slump forward into Dewdrop. Sobs wrack his body once more, only this time in pure relief. “I’m so sorry,” Rain shuddered out.

All Dewdrop could do was pull Rain in closer, gently rubbing his back until his cries settled to nothing more than the occasional hitched breath. “I’m sorry too, Otter. You’re not the only one at fault here. We both said some nasty things that we didn’t mean. It’s over. It’s done. We move past it, yeah?”

“Yeah…”

“Let’s get you cleaned up and into something comfy. We need to talk about what’s been bothering you so much lately, but it doesn’t have to be right now. I say we just put on a movie and relax in bed. Sound good?”

Rain nods. The exhaustion creeping into him so suddenly he could fall asleep right there on the floor safe in Dew’s arms. A quiet “thank you. I love you” floats through the room.

Dewdrop whispers back his very own “I will always love you, my otter. Nothing will ever change that.”

[allthebestnamesweretaken]

OliverxFelicity will always be one of my favorite couples!! I mean just look at them🥹

Felicity Smoak they could never make me hate you

[novelconcepts]

They do vulnerability with Mac so well, and in such careful doses. The soft reverence in the way she says, “They had tons of clothes” breaks my heart. So does the confidence in her mispronounciation of “chic”—a beautiful little reference to comic!Mac being a reader, often above her grade level, but feeling like she has to hide it. This kid has so many layers, and she wants so badly to keep anyone from seeing that, because in her world, every layer offers a new chance for someone to slice in deep. Prioritize tough. Prioritize cajones. Don’t let them see you’re smarter than they expect. Don’t let them see you wish you had more than your brother’s hand-me-downs. Don’t let them see you’re dreaming of getting out in a thousand tiny little ways. Let them remember only the brash outer surface, the one that can’t hurt when they don’t like it, because it isn’t really you.

Contrast this with the desperation in her voice when she thinks it’s all going to be erased. The panicked apologies. The hitch in her smile: “Let’s be honest—you couldn’t [forget me], even if you tried, right?” She knows there’s only so much road out ahead of her; she’s seen the stone in the ground. And she’s begging them—with that smile, always play-acting, just a little—to tell her again she’s more than just a tough little shit-starter. To tell her she’s worth remembering. That they will, even if she can’t stay. If I’m going, that moment says, I want it to be when you three can see who I actually am. I want friends. I want to be remembered. I want to matter. It’s all built to with such careful detail work over the season, and I am desperate to see more of it in the future.

[celery-the-druid]

I’m a *little* drunk but like, wtf did Raphael do about anything? Do he even talk to ANYONE about the WAR CRIMES being committed???? No???? So why is he all high and mighty about Nero going along with them????? Nero blew the fucking whistle!!!!!! At the end of the day, Nero prevented more harm from happening and like. Idk. I’m drunk. But like, they both allowed harm to happen???? And one of them eventually stopped it? So why is Raph so ducking ‘better than thou’ for recognizing the harm first?? 🤔🤔🤔🤔

[xxsabitoxx]

Ryomen Sukuna NSFW A-Z

Part of my 20k follower celebration (past due)

Warnings: if it isn’t abundantly clear, this is smut :)

A/N: in honor of hitting 20k followers a while back, I’m going to be posting 10 NSFW alphabets for JJK men — scheduled post 11 :) - I've developed an unhealthy obsession with true form Sukuna... he is all I think about now. Forgive me because this one is for sure a bit OOC since he like... loves you

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

If you managed to break the hollow icy shell that is Sukuna’s heart and make yourself someone important to him… Sukuna is pretty damn good with aftercare. He’ll clean you up, even ordering someone to get numbing salves because he tore you the fuck up and he know’s you’ll be sore and aching within a few hours if you aren’t already. He’ll use two arms to cradle you gently while his other set works on cleaning you up and making sure you’re okay. He’ll wait until you’re sleeping to whisper praises to you, telling you that you did so well for him and that he adores you. He’ll never really say these things to you when you’re awake though. 

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

Sukuna loves your legs and thighs, he loves your hips and your stomach too. He loves having things to hold and your body provides so much softness for him. He loves to kneel before you – that’s right the king of curses kneeling before you – to lick all the way from the top of your foot up to your inner thigh. He’ll cover your legs in bruises and bites, making sure everyone is well aware that you are his property and nobody else can have you. He adores your stomach, often resting his head against it and letting you pet his hair lovingly. Sukuna will only show this level of vulnerability to you, letting down some – not all – of his walls. 

Sukuna loves his entire body, four arms, two mouths, two dicks, and all. He considers it his masterpiece and it deserves to be worshiped. He has no shame in proclaiming this either. 

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

If he’s not dumping several loads into your cunt/ass then what’s the point? Sukuna treats his cum just as he treats the rest of his body… It's sacred and a privilege to have it. He toys with the idea of painting your face or chest in it but ultimately doesn’t see the point in letting something so valuable go to waste. So creampies are the only way in Sukuna’s eyes. And trust me when I say this man cums a fucking boat-load. I don’t care if it’s realistic or not, he’s making you look bloated by the time he’s done with you.

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

Sukuna would let you do anything you wanted to him… he just hasn’t found the strength to give you that knowledge yet. He hates the idea of someone holding power over him, which is why he’s ever so mildly terrified of you. You may not realize it, but you have Sukuna wrapped around your finger… that man would kill the entire planet for you if it meant seeing you smile. 

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

Sukuna is very experienced, having tens if not hundreds of harlots laying around for his use. But that was before you. You changed his view on that sort of thing and he got rid of every single one of them… you are all he needs to remain satisfied and that is a feeling Sukuna never thought he'd experience in his existence. Sukuna knows what he’s doing and he knows what he’s doing well.

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

Sukuna’s favorite position is holding you up so your back is pressed to his chest. He has a hand hooked under each of your knees and he’s holding you up that way, spreading you apart further than your legs really allow. Sukuna is either sitting or standing and honestly he prefers when a mirror is present so he can watch your face contort in a mix of pain and pleasure. He has you impaled on his cock, easily able to trust in and out of you as you fall apart. 

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

Not even a hint of goofiness in this man when he fucks you. He is all about business… I mean for real it was actually kind of terrifying at first but now you’re used to it. 

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

Sukuna doesn’t really give a shit about his hair down there… and yes it’s pink like the rest of his hair. It may sound fucking bizarre but if you want to trim and clean him up down there? He’ll let you do it. You bathe him often so it’s not necessarily out of your comfort zone to sit there and groom his nether region. He doesn’t really care what you do down there either. You can simply trim him to your liking or shave him bald. Whatever you’re into, he truly doesn’t care. 

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

Sukuna is… romantic in his own way. He’s not detached from the situation at hand and he’s not focused entirely on himself. Sukuna shows his “romantic” side by letting you cum, maybe sparing you a few kisses, rubbing his thumb across the nail marks he left on your legs… he’s not one to say “I love you” or really express how much you mean to him. But it’s the small, subtle little things that hint towards his affection for you. 

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

He’s got four hands, you’d think he’d use one of them to get himself off but he simply doesn’t see a need for that when he can have a random whore come do it for him. When it comes to you though? You never leave him, like Uraume, you’ve earned your spot by his side. He has you to assist him with those kinds of needs when they arise (heh). Though, he’s amused you once or twice by jerking himself off for your own enjoyment. Making a show of using two hands to jerk off his two cocks but stopping just before he comes because – as i’ve said – he doesn’t like to waste any of it, not a single drop can be spared. 

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

Slave/Master kink for one… he just likes the feeling of being superior even though he doesn't need to “roleplay” to get that feeling. BDSM… or whatever equivalent there is for the Heian period. He likes it rough, messy, even a little bloody. Sukuna has a massive breeding kink but doesn’t want kids, he just likes the idea of filling you over and over again (regardless if you have the ability to get pregnant or not). Dacryphilia for sure, your tears turn him on. Orgasm control (both denying and overstimulation) are just another aspect that plays into his love of power. Sukuna loves restraints in any form, not him, though. He will for sure try and fist you. 

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

Anywhere. Sukuna will fuck you where ever the fuck he wants too with no shame. He’ll fuck you on his bed, ruin the luxurious sheets and break the bedframe over and over. It’s gotten to the point where he actually got rid of it all together because he was sick of the wood splintering and nearly hurting you. Sukuna can and will fuck you on a raised platform in front of his petrified subjects. He wants everyone to know who you belong too – even if you don’t need to be fucked stupid in front of hundreds of people for them to know. It’s quite obvious. To be totally honest, Sukuna loves the mess and mayhem of fucking you in the tub. Watching the water slosh everywhere then ordering a maid to come clean up the damage, it makes him laugh. 

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

There is an innocence to you that really gets Sukuna going. You’ve done the most downright filthy things with him, you’ve stood beside him as he makes a bloody mess of someone… but somehow you still retain this sort of innocence to you that he loves to try and taint. It’s not to say you’re oblivious… you’re very smart in Sukuna’s eyes and he knows you have a mean streak. But when you’re with him… there is something about you that he wants to break so badly and he has such fun trying to do so… you’re resilient which would usually piss him off to no end… but with you it’s endearing and he can’t figure out why he can’t get enough (you’re in love dumb ass) 

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

Shit. Yeah no that’s the one thing he can not and will not deal with. He’s had his fair share of bodily fluids – to say the least without going into detail. But he draws the line at anything to do with vomit or scat. It disturbs him… which is saying a lot. He’s had women offered to him as sacrifice that have done several things in fear and he can say he truthfully cannot handle it. Also, no threesomes ever. He’s not sharing you. 

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

He’s a healthy combination of both (shocking). Sukuna loves watching you struggle to even take one of his cocks in your mouth nevermind both. But your mouth feels so damn good even though you struggle to get more than the tip past your lips. Sukuna loves to go down on you though, keeping your thighs spread apart so he can eat you as he pleases. Your arousal just tastes so good to him, he can’t get enough and he will not stop until he’s satisfied. 

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

Rough and cruel for the most part. But he can be even meaner when he goes unbearably slow, splitting you open agonizingly with two cocks opposed to one just to see those pretty tears slip down your cheeks as you beg and plead for mercy (mercy he never gives). Sukuna will fuck you stupid with one cock most of the time, that’s his little bit of kindness towards you, but you’ll get fucked twice at least… ya know… gotta get the second cock off too. He’ll give you a choice, get fucked twice with one cock each time or get fucked once with two… mind you it’s never just once even if it’s two cocks at the same time or one each. You’re smart enough to take one cock multiple times unless you want to be bedridden because you can’t walk. Both options have happened to you many times though… so you really can’t tell why he offers you a choice. 

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

Sex can take up a whole day when it comes to Sukuna. So, no, he despises quickies. He doesn’t like to be rushed, he doesn’t care if he gets caught, he’ll make people watch. What is there that would really appeal to him??? It seems more annoying than anything really. 

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

He will experiment but only on his own accord. He won’t say it outright but Sukuna is at least a bit mindful of the experiments he does… he doesn’t want to really hurt you or scare you away. So he picks and chooses what he wants to try on you. If there is something very intriguing to him that he worries will make you uncomfortable? He’ll force two other people to play it out while he watches and decides from there… he’s oddly considerate of you in that sense. 

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

As you saw above… sex can be an all-day process for Sukuna. He can last as long as he wants to… and I mean that seriously. His stamina is infinite, nothing will stop him but himself. He can go multiple rounds until you’re so fucked out you’ve lost count. He can last anywhere from 15-25 minutes per round, he could last much longer but his goal is inevitably to cum so why bother… praying for you honestly. 

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

Toys like we know today don’t exist within his era (the Heian period) and honestly?? Sukuna is a fucking jungle gym in his own right so you really don’t need toys… and even if they did exist and were at his disposal? Sukuna isn’t using them. Why the hell would he rely on a stupid little toy to get you off when he’s more than capable?? He’s not intimidated by them, he just would think they’re absolutely useless… modern day though… if you begged him for a vibrator he would probably cave and get you one. He may even find amusement in it. 

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

Sukuna and fair do not belong in the same sentence so it should shock nobody that this man will tease you until you are nearly dry heaving with how hard you’re crying. He will tease you for hours, to the point it feels like genuine torture, before he feels like getting you off. Then, the unfair attitude continues because he will not stop even when you start begging him to. He likes how quickly he can make you regret your words, seeing those pretty fat globs of tears leaking down your cheeks only makes the experience better for him. 

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

Sukuna will curse and groan but that’s about it. He won’t try and hide his noises, either, but he will try and make sure he’s not too loud. It’s rare to get a moan, whine, or whimper out of him. Especially since he has such good control over himself. But he will not hesitate to groan about how good his cock is feeling because of you… he has to give you a little something to get you to stick around, ya know? Not that you have a choice… and not that you’d really want to leave him anyways… giving up your luxurious lifestyle and being on the king of curses’ good side isn’t something just anyone can obtain, you know. 

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

Sukuna hates your family, ever since you were dropped off to him to be a sacrifice. He doesn’t care about his donors and their sacrifices since all of them are mediocre pieces of shit at best. Though he knows a scumbag like him is not one to talk. But you? You arrived to him nearly beaten to death, half naked, with little to no emotion left in you. What the hell was he supposed to do with that? Where was the fun in playing with something that was already half dead. Though, as he was about to kill you, something in your expression moved his icy heart. That truly petrified him but he’d never let anyone know it. He kept you instead of killing you, ordering for the immediate execution of your rotten family instead. He likes to joke that he had the perfect specimen nursed back to health, in his eyes you really were perfect. 

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

Sukuna is a tall man… while we don’t know his exact height in true form… he’s been guesstimated to be anywhere from 7.5 feet to 9.8 feet. A tall man is going to have a monstrous cock… or cocks in his case. When he’s soft he’s about 8.5 inches in length, and when he’s hard he’s just over 11 inches. He’s monstrous, girthy and sticks straight out… both of them do. He will hurt… he will make you feel like you’re getting ripped in half and he will often try and fist you to prepare you for him. He cannot fit all the way inside of you, as much as he’d love to, he's not trying to kill you by rupturing your organs. He’s a tan color, one dick is circumcised, the other is not… he was feeling quirky,  and has a deep rosy pink tip… or tips… you know what I mean. 

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

Sukuna has to fuck you at least twice a day, if he doesn’t, he’s extremely irritable. He has at least 5 hours of his day set aside just for you. But really he makes his own schedule so he can do whatever the fuck he wants when he wants to. His sex drive is pretty damn high and he does absolutely nothing to deal with it or hold off. He will get off the moment he wants too. 

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

Sukuna prefers falling asleep after you do, which can be pretty instant considering how long he may have been fucking you. So the answer is anywhere between 30 seconds and 10 minutes. 

[strangersmunsons]

Eddie, My Love! eddie munson x reader // valentine's day special series Day 1 Prompt: Flowers 💐 ~ 1,000 words Eddie surprises you with a bouquet of flowers.

You sigh as you trudge to the front door, stomping the excess snow off of your boots before entering the house. After a long, cold day, all you really want is to curl up on the couch with a cup of hot tea. 

All your outerwear is stripped off and hung, melted snow dripping little puddles on the hardwood floor. You quickly change into a pair of comfier clothes, seat yourself in the living room, and flick the TV on.

You’ve made it halfway through one episode of mind-numbing television when the front door pushes open again.

Eddie’s here.

You’re still getting used to that. There used to be someone, then for a long time there wasn’t anyone, and then Eddie came into your life, which meant that someone was…here, again.

He looks handsome, as he always does, when he comes in and finds you. He’s all warm, dimpled smile and puppy eyes, and the bit of scruff he neglected to shave off gives you a delightful scratch when he leans down and kisses you hello.

One hand is carrying a crinkly plastic bag, which he holds firmly behind his back, while the other hand softly cups your cheek. 

“Hey,” he says quietly, rubbing his nose lightly against yours.  

“Hi,” you whisper back, wrapping your arms around his neck. “Did you stay warm today?”

“I did. Had my hand warmers and everything,” he reassures you. 

You give him a little squeeze. “Good.”

He kisses your cheek. “By the way, I have something for you,” he says slyly, straightening back up. 

You blink, confused. “Oh?”

He pulls the bag out from behind his back, holding whatever the object is from its bottom. Then he bunches the plastic down around his fist, so you can get a clear look at what’s inside.

Eddie is holding a bouquet of flowers. 

It’s a mix of large and small blooms, ranging in color from white to pale pink to deep maroon. Some are roses, and you guess at the others. You think the small ones might be baby's breath, and the larger ones, dahlias, perhaps? You’re not sure. Whatever they are, they’re beautiful.

You simply stare at the fragrant blossoms, lips slightly parted.

“Sweetheart?” Eddie asks gently. “You good?”

“Yes,” you manage, an awestruck smile slowly unfurling across your face. “Those are for me?”

Eddie laughs kindly. “Of course they are,” he teases. “You see anyone else in here?”

A wave of unexpected emotion washes over you, and a lump rises in your throat. You rub at your temple with a shaky hand, embarrassed by your own intense reaction.

“No one I’ve been with has ever gotten me flowers before,” you admit.

Eddie visibly softens. “Well, I don’t know how that could be, but I’m honored to be the first.” He removes the grocery bag entirely and lets it drift to the floor, handing you the bouquet. “Thought it’d be appropriate for today.”

“Appropriate,” you murmur, sniffing delicately at a silky rose, eyes shining with happiness. “What do you mean?”

“Uhh…have you looked at the calendar today?”

Something in his voice snaps you out of your reverie, and you drag your gaze away from your pretty flowers to his amused expression. 

He cocks his head to the side. “It’s the 14th, baby.”

It takes a second, but it finally dawns on you. Your heart lurches.

“Oh my God,” you mumble. “I’m so sorry, I didn’t even realize —”

Eddie cuts you off with a wave of his hand. “That’s okay. We don’t have to make a big deal out of it. I’ve been meanin’ to get you flowers at some point, anyway.”

His smile tells you that everything is okay. You decide to believe it.

You hold the bouquet delicately, handling it as though it were priceless. Eddie follows you into the kitchen, where you pull your only vase out from its place beneath the sink. You blow a speck of dust off the glass rim, and fill it with water.

Then, after carefully peeling the cellophane away from the bundle, you lay the flowers aside on the counter. 

“You have to cut the stems at an angle, so they absorb the water better,” you explain to Eddie as you rifle around the junk drawer for your kitchen shears.

Eddie watches your ministrations with tender affection. “Oh, yeah? How does that work?”

You pause your movements. “I don’t know, actually,” you confess. “That’s just what my mom taught me.”

You proceed with cutting away the excess stems, and move the flowers into the vase, trying to arrange them exactly as they were when Eddie presented them to you. When they look right, you place them in the center of your kitchen table.

“There.”

Eddie stands back and admires your handiwork. You step in front of him and move in close, so that your middles are nearly touching.

“Thank you, Eddie. They’re really beautiful.”

Your eyes are wide, desperate for him to understand the gravity of the gesture, and how very much it means to you. 

But he knows. He always knows.

He closes the space and pulls you in tight, wrapping his arms around you, so that his hands settle at the small of your back, fingers laced together so as to keep you there forever.

“Do you really like them? ‘Cause when I was at the store, I had a way bigger one at first. It was all huge red and pink flowers. And then a lady in the checkout line told me I should pick a different one, since carnations are apparently tacky.”

You press your face against his chest. “That’s silly. I’d like your carnations too, Eddie.”

“‘They’re filler flowers,’ is what she said.”

You chuckle at his disgruntled tone, and the sound muffled is against his t-shirt. “Nevermind her. And to answer your question, yes, I really like them. I love them.”

Eddie notches a finger under your chin and tilts your head upwards. “I love you,” he tells you for the first time, and presses a sweet kiss to your lips.

thank you for reading!! xoxo Valentine's Day Special Masterlist

[cupidsdolll]

For Whatever It’s Worth I Love You (Ain’t That the Worst Thing You Ever Heard?)

𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬; best friend!Harry x fem!reader

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲; best friends forever or whatever the saying is. how bittersweet it is to love someone that you can’t have how you want.

𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐂𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭; 8.8k

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬; angst, drinking, one mention of a sexual encounter, foul language, use of Y/N. date with a college guy who only wants sex and is obvious about it.

𝐀𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐍𝐨𝐭𝐞: i did link a playlist in another post, but here it is. this fic is something personal to me so not everyone will relate but if you’ve ever been in love with your best friend, this is for you. you don’t have to listen to the playlist while reading but a few deserve a honorable mention that i feel accurately describe the feelings throughout.

yours - conan gray, it’s nice to have a friend - taylor swift, falling for u - peachy! ft mxmtoon, heather - conan gray, people watching - conan gray.

— — —

Y/N and Harry were friends. They were the absolute best of friends if anyone asked. They grew up near one another but she tended to shy away from him in their early days. During their elementary years, she observed him from a distance. Him and his seemingly always put together outfits, the way he would snicker in class whenever the teacher mentioned anything remotely funny (it never was to the little girl.) She watched as he sometimes decided he wanted to take notes and would write everything down as fast as he could.

She watched as he grew a small circle of friends and would go around the school playing pranks, placing fake bugs inside lockers or on the teachers desk. She couldn’t help but to be curious of the boy as time went, something about him intrigued her. Years go by and eventually Y/N grew the courage to approach the young boy. She was still hesitant, nervous really, she didn't know what to say to him in any sense. But her legs carried her to him, her mind runs a mile a minute the closer she gets to him. She was bound to make a fool of herself, she just couldn’t stop.

Her feet stopped, she stood right in front of him and he’s yet to notice her, too deep into whatever conversation he’s having with his friend to notice the scared girl. She can’t help her gaze from roaming over his face, the soft cheeks and pretty green eyes, his pink lips and long eyelashes. His hair has gotten quite curly over the years, it’s honestly her favorite feature of his. She wishes she could look at him this close every day, just admire him without any fear or doubt and oh- he’s staring at her. When did he stop talking to his friend? Her eyes drop to his lips and they’re moving.. he’s talking to her, oh god he’s talking to her. This is it, she’s gonna make an utter and absolute fool of herself and he’s never going to talk to her again.

“Uh hello? Did y’need something?” He asks and she just stares blankly. She can’t force her brain to say something, anything please.

“Uh- well.. jeez. You see.. I just,” is all that comes out of her mouth when she finally decides to open it. She can feel heat rising to her cheeks, the embarrassment warming her and making her want to hide in her room until the end of time.

Harry’s just staring at her, his lips pulled up into an amused smirk of some sort and she can't help the shame that fills her.

“Go on then, I don't have all day.“ He says with amusement laced in his tone and she nearly melts. She couldn’t think he could get any better but his accent is heavenly. It’s smooth and soft and she wishes she could listen to it all day- no she doesn’t. That’s irrational and oh, he’s still looking at her. She needs to say something, she begs her mind to come up with anything at this point.

“You’re pretty.” His face immediately morphs into a look of disbelief as he shakes his head gently.

“Well thanks I guess.” He laughs gently before looking back at her.

“I don’t think pretty is a term meant for me, maybe for you though.” He smiles gently at her and she swears her heart skips three beats. Her skin flushes with heat at the compliment he gives her, and she can’t help but to smile shyly at the curly haired boy.

“Oh, um thank you.” She can’t help but to giggle and he watches her with a curious gaze.

“What’s your name then?” He asks her and she tells him, he compliments her name and says his own.

“It’s nice to meet you, Harry.” They smile at each other and he invites her to sit with him and his friends.

Just like that, a new friendship begins to bloom between the children. They stay by each other’s side through the years, becoming the best of friends in the seventh grade over their shared disgust for dissecting frogs. Their faces screw up and they just keep complaining about how gross it feels and how they hate the sliminess of the skin. It’s hard to imagine that anything could break them apart, they’re too similar. They’re too close, their friendship is far too strong.

— — —

When high school came around, you never got one without the other. The pair were always attached at the hip. Some students thought the two were dating, and Harry always shot them down by saying she’s just a really close friend, they’re just friends, they couldn’t date. Y/N kept her mouth shut, always had to swallow the big lump that formed in her throat whenever the topic came up. She knew she wouldn’t be able to deny it, or she wouldn’t be able to stop herself from admitting her feelings.

She’s not sure when she started catching feelings for Harry exactly. There’s many moments where it could be possible. It could’ve been all those nights they share a bed, they’re close enough and their parents figured nothing bad will happen. If they were to sneak around, they would’ve done it already. Harry will be over at Y/N’s house, either studying or just hanging out with her and they’ll stay up too late and Anne wouldn’t want to come and pick him up so Harry will pick an outfit or steal some of her bigger clothes to wear (she likes to wear oversized clothing when she’s going to sleep, they’re the only clothes that’ll fit him.) The first night was awkward to say the least, she didn’t own a sleeping bag and wanted him to stay with her. They thought of piling some blankets on the floor, but he said it’d be too uncomfortable and would hurt his back. He offered to sleep on the couch but she fussed and said it wouldn’t be a proper sleepover if they weren’t in the same room.

The last offer was said with hesitation, his cheeks and the tips of his ears turned red and he stared at the floor with a bashful smile.

“We could, maybe if you’re comfortable with it of course, maybe share a bed? We don’t have to. I’m sure your mom could figure something out-” She’s embarrassed at how fast she answers the boy, her skin warmed and shy eyes.

“Yeah! That works.” And just like that, the first initial problem is solved. They lay relatively stiffly in their own sides of the bed, a line of pillows lay in between them acting as a protective barrier, the moonlight filtering through her bedroom window and resting on his face. Casting a soft white hue onto his face, making him look even softer and she can’t help but to keep sneaking glances at her best friend. She doesn’t want to just stare and ogle, she doesn’t want to make this even more awkward for the two of them, so she settles for quick glances. They talk about anything and everything, whatever they learned in class or Harry’s newest favorite song, her current book she’s reading or some gossip one of them overheard.

Time passes, and Y/N can hear his breathing even out. She watches as his chest rises and falls slower signaling the young boy is sleeping. She then turns on her side, slowly and quietly as she pays attention to how much sound she’s making, her gaze landing on the sleeping boy. This should be, this is weird. She shouldn’t be watching him, but she can’t help it. Her eyes roam over his face once more, this time unashamed and more slowly, she wants to memorize every single detail.

She takes in the way his lashes fan his cheeks, she’s always been jealous of how long his eyelashes are. There’s no point in him having them if he doesn’t put them to good use. His eyelids flutter ever so often as he sleeps, his nose and his lips. They’re soft and pink, pillowy as if they’re made from the softest fabric. They’re inviting, but she shouldn’t be thinking like that. They’re best friends, best friends don’t kiss. They don’t think about cuddling up to them, they don’t do what she does.

Besides it’s normal for a young girl to develop a small crush on her best friend, it happens to everyone. At least that’s what her mom had told her weeks after the bed sharing experience.

— — —

She manages to bottle up those measly feelings for him, she doesn’t want to ruin anything and lose him. Years pass and now the two are in college. Freshman, the jokes of the school, the perfect targets for all of the upperclassmen. Y/N and Harry are still as close as ever, in fact some may say they’ve gotten closer. Harry’s always there to protect her from anyone who tries to pick on her, to lend a hand when she needs a study partner. Y/N’s there to support his dreams, to embrace him after a long day, to listen to him ramble about anything and everything.

The two would usually spend their nights sitting side by side as they help the other study, listening to the newest music on their phones, or just chatting happily with each other. The silence that settled over them sometimes never felt uncomfortable in any way, anything that had to do with Harry was warm. It was happy, filled with care and cozy, constantly feeling like she was enveloped in a warm hug. It was always a comforting moment whenever she’s around him, never awkward in any way or a silence so deafening that makes her feel the need to ramble about anything just to fill the silence.

True enough, college was stressful for the girl. She was known to overwork herself and to stack more and more things onto her imaginary plate. A stack so high that she can’t see over or around, and the weight of it only gets heavier as time passes by. It’s not something she can help though, she’s always been one to want to overachieve her own dreams and goals — even if said goals were highly unattainable and unrealistic — but she always had Harry to help her. She’d tack on classes that she may or may not need to take but she thinks it will be easier to take all the classes just in case.

She makes frequent stops to her teacher’s office to ask for help or to check her work (she’s sure the teachers are sick of her at this point), she’s constantly working on homework and studying for her exams and any tests she may have. It’s safe to say Y/N is as good a student as one can get, and she takes great pride in that! As much time as she spends in her dorm room or in the library with her face glued into text books, she makes sure to set time aside to spend time with her best friend.

She always makes time for him, how could she not when he’s the best part of her day? They’ll meet up in the library for an impromptu study session that usually ends up with their studies forgotten as they talk about whatever comes to mind, him sitting beside her on her bed because she doesn’t like visiting the boy’s dormitories simply because they’re loud and the majority of the time it smells unpleasant, or they’ll stroll around the campus because she loves being in nature. They’ll talk about how their classes are doing (hers are good but overwhelming and loud, his are good as well and he quite enjoys them,) or they’ll talk about potential crushes they have.

It usually always just results in Harry talking about whatever girl he thought was pretty as Y/N nodded along. She never had anything to contribute, she never had any crushes other than him and didn’t feel the need to add anything to the conversation. She was always too jealous, too upset to say anything anyways. She wished it was her. She hoped that she could hold his hand and kiss him whenever she wanted, wanted to play with his hair and cuddle up to him whenever she wanted, wanted to show him off and announce to the world that he was hers.

It was silly, she knew that, which was why she never said anything about her feelings. She couldn’t have him the way she wanted him, they were always just gonna be best friends. She was okay with that, to a point, she was glad to have him in her life just the same. She wouldn’t tell him in fear of losing him. She couldn’t bear the thought of not being in his life, to not traveling to his place and hanging out with his family, to not have that one person who meant everything and anything to her.

So she pined, she yearned from a distance while still encouraging him to go on dates. Which is exactly what she’s doing now, sat on his bed with a sad smile as he told her about the current girl he’s interested in.

“No, you don’t understand. She’s so smart, always one of the first to raise her hand, she could honestly give you a run for your money. She always looks so pretty, it’s like she never has bad days. She even volunteers on the weekends!” He goes on and on, not realizing the sadness etched on his friend's face, he never noticed it as he rambled about whatever girl he was interested in.

Y/N nodded along, halfway listening as she felt the small ping of hurt begin to bloom in her chest. She wishes she could be all the way happy for Harry. She hates that she gets jealous of all the girls, she just can’t help it. She wishes she had a chance.

“Why don’t you ask her out then, Harry?” Her voice is quiet, scared of it coming out as shaky as she feels.

“I don’t even know if she likes me! I’d hate to ask her out just to get rejected.” He says as he paces, a habit he does when he’s nervous.

“You won’t know if you try, or you could just try talking to her normally and see how it goes from there.” She says and he nods, a big smile on his face (one she wishes he would give to her) as he thinks it over.

She hates these moments if she’s being honest, it always leads to the same outcome. He’ll listen to her advice, he and whatever girl he’s interested in will start talking, they’ll realize they’re compatible and start hanging out more, he’ll bring her around to meet Y/N and then something happens and they break up. She wishes he would stop, at least for a while, and go back to give all of his attention to her.

— — —

They’re now juniors in college and the two are still relatively close friends. Harry will walk her to class if his own is close enough, they eat lunch together when their schedules line up, Harry still takes her to and from school every day (unless something came up with his soccer schedule.) Harry did get into the party scene though, and Y/N thinks this is where it all got complicated. He would go to parties thrown on the campus and when he first started going, Harry would invite Y/N to come with him and the girl always said no.

Partying wasn’t her thing, she didn't find the whole appeal of it all. Going to someone’s dorm room or house, either way the space is entirely too crowded for her, the smell of cigarettes and weed fill the air and songs she’ll never enjoy blasts through whatever speakers they have. The drinks are usually not that bad after she’s had a couple before heading in, but she doesn’t necessarily like to drink anyways.

This was where her and Harry had begun to drift in a way, Harry enjoyed partying. He enjoyed it a lot, the thrill, and once he had gotten a couple of tattoos and grew his hair out he became quite the ladies man.

He would go on about whatever party was going on, to her it seemed there was a party every week. She didn’t understand why these people aren’t studying and making the most of their time, but she realizes that not everyone’s like her. It was very rare for her to accompany Harry to a party, but when she did, she made him promise to stay by her side as much as he could. He agreed, because why wouldn’t he, and tried to get to enjoy herself as much as she could.

Tonight’s a party, she couldn’t believe someone is throwing a party on a Thursday night, she would be cozied up in her bed with her textbooks laid across as she wrote down notes. Harry had convinced her to come with him, and told her it was going to be a small party and said they were having a pick a music DJ so she could even request a couple of her favorite songs! She reluctantly agreed only after Harry gave her the biggest eyes and pout she ever saw. She’s always had a soft spot for him, mainly because he’s never given her a reason not to trust his word and judgment.

So she sighed as she ushered him out, playfully swatting his butt with whatever she was able to grab and shooed him.

“Go on then, get ready! This better be good otherwise I’m shaving your head while you sleep.” She said with a soft smile on her lips, they both knew she would never do so simply because she enjoyed running her hands through his hair. He shook his head and laughed at her fondly as he allowed her to push him to the door. He then left her dorm with a smile on his lips to get ready for said party, one of his main priorities is to make his best friend begin to like parties so they could go together.

A while later, they’re standing against one another, a plastic solo cup in each of their hands in a somewhat crowded house. Harry was right, it was smaller than the normal party, there’s more room to walk around without the fear of bumping into someone and causing a scene. The music vibrates through the floors and fills the space, the air is stuffy and filled with the smell of weed. There’s so much happening all at once, and Y/N’s glad she doesn’t get overstimulated easily otherwise she’d have to leave.

Y/N sips on her drink, taking just the smallest of drinks simply because whatever Harry gave her smells and tastes bad, burning her throat and leaving a bad aftertaste on her tongue with every drink. Her eyes roam over the kitchen but they always manage to land on Harry. He’s so pretty, and just happy. He looks like he belongs here, long sleeve black shirt partially open, a black tie barely even tied around his neck, a pair of black jeans and a pair of white tennis shoes. He’s let his hair down instead of his usual man bun, and Y/N swears every girl has their eyes trained on him. She doesn’t blame them honestly, she just wishes she wasn’t there to watch as her best friend checks the girls out as well.

It fuels a bubbling in her stomach, a queasy feeling that won’t go away. It’s a feeling she’s grown used to, being friends with Harry always led to her feeling envious of the girls he talked to. She wishes she could just accept the fact that they’ll never be together how she wants them to be, accept the fact that they’ll always just be best friends. She knows that she could treat him better than they can, she knows all the small things they’ll never know. She knows how to make him happy, how to comfort him, knows all of his secrets and ticks and cues.

She hates the painful feeling that resides in her chest, near her heart every time this happens. The horrible feeling of rejection that makes her hate the friendship they have, hates the fact that they’re so close and it’ll never go any further than that. She sighs and takes a bigger sip of her drink, her face screwing up in disgust at the bitter taste left on her tongue. She hopes he’s too busy checking out every girl at the party to notice her discomfort, but of course he has some kind of senses that ties to her as he wraps an arm softly around her shoulders.

He gives her a soft squeeze as he leans down to whisper in her ear, only to make sure she can hear him over the bass of the song.

“Y’okay?” She can’t help the shiver that runs through her at the feeling of his breath fanning across her neck. She only nods her head meekly, she doesn’t trust her voice enough to speak for her. He chuckles and squeezes her shoulder once more before pulling away and Y/N can only sigh quietly at the lack of contact and warmth. It’s moments like these where she wishes she’s back at home, cuddles next to Harry as they do whatever. The music’s getting too loud, she’s getting warmer and her drink doesn’t taste good, that can only mean she’s getting overwhelmed.

They stay alongside each other at the party, her wrapped in his arms as time goes on. She wishes he would say they can leave, but she’s unsure how long they’ve been here and she won’t be the reason Harry leaves a party early. Harry mutters in her ear something about getting another drink and she’s sure he asked if she wanted something different. She nods her head softly and turns her head, her eyes staring into his pretty emerald eyes and she smiles at him before asking if there’s something there that doesn’t taste so bitter and he can only laugh at her. She swears his eyes look so pretty in this light, pupils slightly dilated and the green of his eyes shine in the lighting above the two of them. They stare at each other for what seems like ages, not that Y/N’s complaining any, before Harry pulls back and tells her that he’ll be right back with the drinks and she nods in response. She watches him as he makes his way through the crowd, more than likely saying excuse me and apologizing if he even brushes past someone on his journey because he’s just that polite.

— — —

Y/N hates parties. She’s mentioned this to Harry several times and he’s so persistent on changing her mind, only to be left disappointed by her response the next day or through a text. They always smell bad, it’s hot, there’s no personal space and she just absolutely despises watching Harry get hit on by every girl in the vicinity. She gets it, he’s good looking, funny and an absolute gentleman which is not something she can say applies to any other boy on campus. Harry’s a rare gem and she wishes she could keep him for herself, but alas they’re just friends. That’s all they’ll ever be.

She hates when they go to parties and he leaves her, usually letting her know but sometimes he’s dragged away and never comes back until he’s drunk. Another reason she hates parties is how he acts when he’s drunk. She turns into a babysitter, making sure he’s careful not to throw up on himself, bump into some guy who had too much to drink and wants a fight, and has to drive them home when she doesn’t even like driving. Not to mention, she hates how affectionate he becomes. He’s always cuddling up to her, holding her hand and calling her all sorts of sweet pet names.

She thinks that’s the worst part, because not only does it fill her heart and make it swell, but it also causes her to be the target of all of the nasty glares from the girls at the party. That’s exactly what’s happening right now, he’s managed to bring her to yet another party even though she all but begged and pleaded not to come along. It was bigger, louder, and plain annoying. She just wanted to stay in bed, cozied up underneath her softest blanket with a book and her favorite songs. Harry insisted yet again that she’ll have fun, and it shouldn’t be too big. Insisted that they wouldn’t be there very long, and that was two hours ago. Y/N’s head hurts, her back and feet hurt as well and she doesn’t know any of the songs playing through the speaker. She’s just having a miserable time meanwhile Harry’s having the time of his life, she’s lost count of how many drinks he’s already had including the one currently in his hand. She knows it’s enough to get him to loosen up, to not care about the way he’s pressed against her, one tattooed arm wrapped around her waist and his breath fanning the side of her neck as he sings along to whatever song is blasting through.

They rock gently together as if it’s not an upbeat pop song, lost in his own drunken world and she just wants to go home.

“Honey, you’re just the sweetest thing. Y’know that?” His voice all but oozed into her bloodstream, warming her skin and making her fight back a smile.

“And you’re drunk, I think we should go home Harry.”’She says, hoping he listens and tells her to take them home. Instead he nuzzles his face into the crook of her neck and squeezes her.

“Don’t wanna leave yet, m’having fun with you.” She can’t help the smile that tugs on her lips at his words.

“I know but we could have so much more fun at home in our pj’s. Doesn’t that sound nice, Harry?” He only hums and squeezes her tighter.

“M’having fun with you baby. S’nice seeing you all pretty. Look so pretty every day.” She can’t help the heat that rushes to her cheeks at his words, the main reason she doesn’t like attending parties with him.

He’s so cuddly and loving, the line they’ve made blurs whenever he’s drunk and makes it hard to differentiate between just friendship or something more. She knows he doesn’t mean any of it though, at least not in the way she hopes he means it. She can feel the nasty glares from all of the other girls, knowing they’re wishing to be her in shoes. Who wouldn’t want to be wrapped in Harry’s arms with him whispering in your ear and a goofy looking smile on his lips?

“Thank you, Harry. We can still have fun at home, I won’t change so I can still be all pretty for you and it’ll just be the two of us. I’m sorry, I wanna go home, Har. It’s getting to be too much.” She says just loud enough for him to hear, her eyes scanning the crowd. He sighs before kissing her neck ever so gently, a kiss so feathery soft that if she weren’t so sober she wouldn’t even feel it.

“Fine, let’s go home then baby. Don’t want my girl to be overwhelmed.” He says before unwrapping her from his embrace only to intertwine their hands together as he leads her to the exit. She’s grateful that he’s taking charge, her brain repeating the same three words over and over again.

My girl, my girl, MY girl, my GIRL, MY GIRL.

Those two words do something to her brain, sending her spiraling into the delusion she only entertains late at night when she’s alone in her bed. The fantasy that they’ve been together for a couple months, every drunken interaction always ends with a kiss and then cuddling in the bed. She follows him outside and to their, his car and he opens the door to the drivers side for her and walks around to the passenger side. She stands by the door, making sure he can get in the car without hurting himself and he huffs, reminding her of when they were kids.

“I can get in the car by myself, love. No need to fret over me.” His accent is deeper because of the alcohol and Y/N can only sigh and roll her eyes affectionately.

“I know H, just don’t want you to hurt yourself is all.” She says softly as she pulls the seatbelt around him.

“Always so sweet for me, baby. Thank you.” He smiles at her, a dopey expression on his face and she can only smile at him in return. She closes the door gently and walks to the other side, getting into the car and starting it, immediately turning on the radio in hopes it’ll distract him from seeing the tears roll down her face.

— — —

If there’s one thing Y/N hates is going on dates. Especially if they’re dates she doesn’t necessarily want to be on, just like the one she’s on now. Harry had insisted that he takes up the majority of the time (he does) and that she needs to go out more, (she doesn’t want to) so she reluctantly agreed to go on this stupid date. She arrived at the restaurant ten minutes early just in case and to prepare herself, waited for ten extra minutes for him to decide to show up smelling strongly of some cheap cologne and cigarettes. Once they were seated, things stayed somewhat relaxed as they made small talk and got to know each other; he had made some remarks she didn’t necessarily agree with but she stayed quiet.

When it came time to order, there was a certain look on his eyes when she ordered. One that felt almost as if he was… judging her? He stayed quiet otherwise though, didn’t let his disgust be known verbally and she’s thankful for that. She’s sure they’ve been at the restaurant for about thirty minutes, give or take, but this is the longest she’s been out with a guy who isn’t Harry. That has to mean something, right? Sure the conversation could be better, maybe he could talk more and maybe seem a little more interested in what she has to say, but she can’t complain too much.

She can’t help but to wonder what Harry is doing right now, probably either sleep or playing on his game system. He might be on a date as well which could explain why he was soo insistent on getting her to go on this date, but she refuses to think that’s why. She’s bored and she misses him. She always misses him though, she’s gotten so used to basically being attached at the hip with him that it feels like years whenever they’re apart (even if it’s only a couple of hours, she’s just dramatic as Harry would say.)

“So are you and Harry together, or…” The guy asks and Y/N shakes her head quickly.

“Oh.. uh no! We’re not together.” He squints his eyes at her like he doesn’t believe her, and honestly she doesn’t blame him.

“So are you guys just screwing around?” Y/N laughs, a sound in between a snort and a scoff bubbles from her lips and her date only to stare at her in confusion.

She’s heard plenty of rumors regarding her and Harry’s friendship, that they’re dating or maybe siblings, one even said she’s secretly someone famous and he’s just her bodyguard. She laughed at that one and when she told Harry he simply smiled at her and said it’s only true; she’s his princess and he vowed to protect her from any and all harm and she smacked his shoulder with a dopey smile on her lips. But to hear that people think that they’re just sleeping around with each other is new, well at least to hear it. She won’t deny the fact that sometimes late at night she’ll daydream scenarios where the two are happily together doing all the couple-y stuff but sometimes those daydreams tend to wander and turn into something filthy.

Dreams of him whispering in her ear, praising her as he rocks against her. Dreams of him maybe catching her reading her smut books and recreating them together, trying new things and exploring each other’s bodies.. She shakes her head, thankful that she can play it off as her denying the rumor.

“No, no! We’re just friends, best friends actually.” She says and laughs gently, hoping her voice doesn’t crack. He stares at her a little while longer before his gaze begins lower and he clears his throat, she knows where this is going. This happens all the time on her dates.

“Well I mean, I wouldn’t blame him if he did.” He smirks afterwards and Y/N has to hold herself back from screwing her face up in disgust.

This is usually the part where she’ll excuse herself or the date begins to head downwards, leaving her with disappointment and the small hole in her chest she’s holding out for the small chance of Harry returning her feelings begins to ache. She clears her throat in response and begins to fidget in her seat.

“Uh, yeah sure. Anyways, are you enjoying your food?” She asks in hope that it’ll detour the conversation back into safer topics.

“I mean.. it’s alright. You look gorgeous, that dress really fits you. Are you enjoying your food?” He asks as he brings his fork to his mouth and the girl has to refrain from frowning at her date.

It’s safe to say that she misses her best friend, misses being cuddled up next to him and the two of them talking about anything and everything. She misses how comfortable they are, she misses his voice, his hugs.

“Yeah, I’m enjoying it so far.” She says, her voice sounding disappointed that once more her date is turning into all of her previous ones.

“I was wondering if maybe I could stay over a little after this is done. I’d love to get to know you more.” She sighs softly before answering him.

“No, I’m sorry. If you excuse me, I'm just gonna go ahead and go. It was nice meeting you, and this should be enough to cover my half.” She says as she puts a couple bills on the table in front of him, she’s sure that it’s more than enough to pay for her meal and she should stick around to get her change; she just wants to leave though, to get away from him and back to her comfort. She immediately heads to the door, her eyes beginning to well up with tears as she walks to her car. The disappointment stinging her heart yet again at the ending of another unsuccessful date.

— — —

Y/N’s managed to find herself at another party but this time Harry’s not glued to her side, he’s gotten dragged off by one of his friends. She’s not sure where he went or how long he’s been gone but she is having a much better time than she usually is. She thinks drinking a little bit before she goes helps, being in the comforting embrace of just her and Harry as they take a couple of shots helps her loosen up.

So she stands in the kitchen, her eyes roaming over the crowd as she attempts to find Harry and her body swaying the music. She nurses a red solo cup filled with some alcohol that tastes better than whatever she had the last time, it doesn’t burn her throat whenever she takes a sip of it and it flows down quite nicely if you ask her. Her body feels loose and overall she feels happy, she doesn’t find herself worrying about anything or overthinking.

A few people bump into her while she stands but she doesn’t mind that much, simply apologizing to them as she steps out of the way. The music is something pleasant and she thinks she maybe knows this song as it plays through the speakers, she finds herself mouthing along to the words as she makes her way through the crowd. She’s sure Harry couldn’t have gotten too far, she just wants to tell him about whatever drink she has and tell him how much she likes it. She just wants to see him. She stumbles as she walks hinting at the fact that she might have had a little too much to drink, bumping into a few people as she passes through. It’s nice to not have to be the one that’s sober like she usually is, although she hopes Harry kept his promise and stayed sober in his role as the designated driver. It’s nice to be able to let loose and honestly, she understands a little why Harry likes to go to these things.

As she passes through the crowd with a content smile on her face, she makes sure to ask a few people if they’ve seen her best friend. Some tell her the last place they’ve seen him while others haven’t seen him, she thanks them all the same with a smile on her face. She continues passing through the crowd until she finds a little glimpse of an opening in the crowd, the people slowly beginning to thin out and the music grows softer. When she makes it all the way through she sees Harry leaning against a wall, one hand nervously fidgeting with his hair and the other wrapped around his phone tightly.

He bites at his bottom lip nervously and she just wants to coo at him, kiss him and hug him forever.

“What’s a matter?” She asks as she steps closer to the boy, and his face immediately lights up and all of the tension seems to melt away.

“Couldn’t find you, honey. I went to the kitchen and you weren’t there, I tried to call you and you didn’t answer. I thought you… I was scared.” He says as he wraps her tight in his arms. She doesn’t try to say anything, she knows how he gets whenever he’s nervous and assuming the worst happened, allows him to take in the moment and to calm him down. They rock gently, his face pressed into her hair as he breathes her scent in.

He pulls away a couple minutes later and they stare at each other, his brow furrowed and lips slicked with spit, jade irises shining under the lights and filled with relief and care. Y/N doesn’t know what came over her, what led her to do what she’s about to do but her in the future better be prepared and absolutely angry at herself for drinking so much. She slowly begins to lean forward, tilt her head and pucker her lips subtly. Of course, Harry doesn’t think much of it or doesn’t care when their lips meet.

Slow and tender, she doesn’t bother to move her lips. She’s content with a peck, doesn't need to be greedy. He just looked so pretty that she couldn’t help herself. Harry’s arms are tight around her, keeping her close to him as if she planned on walking away again. She pulls away with a soft click and she licks her own lips, a goofy smile on her face as she stares at him.

“‘M so lucky.” She says, her words kinda slowed and all Harry can do is stare in shock at the girl.

He’s unsure what to do now although he knows the responsible thing to do is to take her home, get her changed and tucked into bed where there definitely won’t be anymore kisses and she’ll be safe and sound. He just stares at her, her eyes unfocused and her eyelashes wet as she stares back. The music blares but to them it’s simply background music, the two of them seemingly secluded away in their own personal bubble. It’s usually how it always is though, wherever they go but it always happens at these parties Harry drags her to, they’ll isolate themselves somewhere in a corner and just chat away until Harry decides to mingle with the other party goers. Harry thinks she’s pretty like this, well he usually always thinks she’s pretty. He likes to see her dress up though, which is why he invites her to so many of these parties, likes knowing all of the girls there envy Y/N because she’s his best friend.

A couple minutes go by, hours maybe but Harry doubts it, and Harry decides to take a couple steps back and rubs his hands down her arms to interlace their fingers together.

“Hey, love bug. You ready to go home?” He asks gently, wary of the fact that she could be more emotional and isn’t thinking straight in the first place for her to kiss him. The girl simply nods her head and allows the boy to lead her through the party crowd and outside, while Harry makes sure she doesn’t bump into any cars on the way to his own car. The breeze is soft and warm, gently caressing their cheeks as it passes through. The sun is filtering through the clouds, landing on Y/N’s face as they walk.

It doesn’t take very long to reach his car because he almost always parks as close to the entrance to make it easier for the other to escort them to the car when they’re drunk. It usually always ends up being Harry, so it feels weird in a way to have the roles reversed, to have him being the one taking care of her. He unlocks the car when they get close enough, his arm wrapped securely around the drunken girl just in case she stumbles. He listens as she rambles about something he can’t make out, her words slurring together due to excitement and her being drunk. A quality of hers that he’s always found endearing, so he lets her ramble of course, humming along to show he’s listening and only occasionally adding his own input when asked and he’s able to make out what she’s doing.

He opens the door for her, getting her all settled in and closing the door behind him, walking around to the driver’s side and starting the car. Once he starts driving, the radio stays off and the windows down to let in the breeze, Harry tries his best to ignore the feeling of her eyes on him.

— — —

Two weeks have passed since the drunken kiss incident and neither of them have really said much about it. Harry brought it up to her a couple days later and she only laughed and said it’s okay, everyone does stupid stuff when they’re drunk. Nothing has changed between the two necessarily, maybe Harry’s been going out of his way to walk her to her class and yeah maybe they have to be touching in any way. Whether it be holding hands like how they used to do, kisses on the forehead and cheeks, or their arms slung across the other waist or shoulders.

So he assumes that there’s nothing else to make of it, it’s not a big deal and honestly if it hasn’t affected their friendship, then he doesn’t mind ignoring it. He has noticed that she’s been the one to initiate the physical touch now, more open about it whereas before she shied away from it in hopes to not upset any of the girls in school. She doesn’t swat at his chest whenever he calls her the exaggerated pet names he used purposely to annoy her, she even said a few of them back. Sure, sometimes he’ll catch her looking at him with eyes all gooey late at night but that must be because she hasn’t had enough sleep.

They’re still the same two best friends like before, just a smidge different but it’s not a bad difference. Y/N thinks she could be okay with the way they are now, living in her own little imagination where they’re more than friends.

Which is why Y/N’s confused whenever Harry knocks on her door early in the morning. Ten in the morning isn’t super early but it’s definitely earlier than she’d like to be awake on a day where she has absolutely nothing else to do. She rubs the sleep out of her eyes as she gets out of bed and throws on some clothes as she makes her way to the door of her dorm. When she opens it, she sees Harry and a beautiful brunette by his side. She looks familiar to the girl, maybe they’ve shared a class before but all in all Y/N’s confused. Harry usually doesn’t stop by without letting her know (not that it mattered, he was over all the time it seemed) and definitely never brought another girl by.

“Harry? What’s going on?” Y/N asks, a yawn escaping her mouth afterwards and the other girl just smiles at Harry.

“Y/N, this is my girlfriend Liv. Liv, this is my best friend Y/N.” Harry says as he points at the girls, introducing them.

Y/N knows the respectful and proper thing to do is to greet her and welcome them into her to get to know one another, but she can’t wrap her brain around it all. She stares at them, more at the girl than Harry. She can’t bring herself to look at him without wanting to cry, she watches as Liv leans forward to give her a hug and tells her how it’s so great to finally meet her and then Y/N’s slamming the door in their face. She stares at the now closed door and hurries to lock it, she’s sure Harry will just open the door even though deep down she knows he won’t do that unless told otherwise that he can.

Usually, he talks to her about the girls he’s interested in, asks her if it’s okay to bring them over and gives her plenty of time to have her - unknown to him - breakdowns and prepare herself for this moment. She’s not sure when this happened or why he didn’t talk to her about it first, the only thing she’s sure of is the absolute heartache she feels right now. The painful jab in her heart with every beat, the feeling of her stomach falling. The pain that’s beginning to bloom in her head and the feeling of her knees hitting the floor, hard enough to leave a bruise but she can’t bring herself to care about that at the moment.

The immediate sting in her eyes as tears well up and fall from her eyes, the betrayal, the jealousy tearing its way up. The heartache overall is one she’s felt in smaller amounts as she listens to Harry talk about whichever girl he’s interested in asking out, but this.. this is something completely different. It’s intense, it burns and she can’t breathe. She can feel her heart pounding in her chest, beating faster than normal.

She lets out loud sobs, cries she should be embarrassed of but at this moment she can’t bring herself to care. She’s grateful her roommates aren’t here, they kept telling her it’s not worth it to stay best friends with Harry due to how much she liked him. She constantly argued that she knew what she was doing, she could handle her own if something like this happened. She should’ve listened to them, would she have stopped being friends with Harry? She doesn’t think so, might’ve been distant to allow her feelings to dwindle back down.

She’s not sure how long she stayed on the floor as tears streamed down her face when her phone rings. She grabs it and stares at the screen, Harry’s name flashing across the screen and she just sighs as she turns the ringer off and sets the phone on the couch. She can’t talk to him right now. She stares at the floor, memories of their friendship flicking in and out, the memory of their kiss haunts her, she feels stupid. She hoped they were moving towards a relationship, how silly of her to think they could ever be more than just friends.

After a couple hours, she manages to pull herself from the floor and begins to make her way to her bed. Her safe haven, she can wrap herself in her softest blanket and read her silly little romance books or watch her favorite movie, where she can wallow in her own self pity. There’s a knock on the door, whoever’s on the other side knocks one, two, three times before it goes silent. She hopes they’ll go away, her roommates have a key so it can’t be someone she has to open the door for.

“Y/N. It’s me, Harry. I don’t know what I did that upset you so much, she’s gone. It’s just me. Please open the door, let’s talk about this.” He says, somewhat muffled but she can still hear how his voice is watery and shaky, can hear the pain in his voice and she just sniffles as she walks towards the door.

“There’s… nothing to talk about. Go home.” Her voice is just a reflection on how she feels right now, she’s sure he can hear it from the other side.

“Yes there is, Y/N. You slammed the door, the look on your face… I don’t know what all that was about but you looked so hurt. I want to know what happened.” He says and she just frowns.

He’s never paid attention to how her face looked before so why does it matter, she opens the door and stares at him. Fresh tears welling up in the girls’ eyes and she swears she can feel her heart breaking even more. He looks just about how she thinks she looks. His eyes full of tears and eyelashes all clumped together, red cheeks stained with tears and his skin flushed. His lips are wet and he can’t stop pulling his bottom lip between his teeth.

“You happened, Harry. I tried, God I tried so hard to get over it. But I can’t. I’m so in love with you it hurts. It hurts to hear you talk about the girls you like knowing it’s not me, hurts hearing all the girls gossip about you and the things you do for them. It hurts when you’re drunk and treating me like I’m yours, calling me all these sweet fucking pet names and holding me close to you. It hurts that we act like we’re together and we just aren’t, we’ll never be. I love you so much that I’m just hurting myself in the process. I’m so scared to lose you that I tell myself that just being your friend is okay. I don’t want to keep secrets just to keep you” A sob interrupts her, a wet choking sound and she sighs.

“I can’t just keep hoping and praying that something will happen and we’ll finally be together, it hurts too much. I’m so lucky to have you in my life and be your friend, but I don’t know if I can handle just being your friend. I can’t handle hoping that I’ll get my chance. I’m tired of waiting for something that’ll never happen. I’m not cutting you out because I don’t want to lose you, I just need some time alone. I need to get over you and learn how to be okay with just being your friend and nothing more.” She says through her tears and immediately she’s wrapped in a strong hug, his scent filling her nose and she cries even harder.

“I’m sorry I’ve been hurting you and didn’t see it. Take as much time as you need honey, I’ll be waiting for you always.”

“Okay, thank you.” She says as she pulls away and he nods, a sad smile on his face that she wishes wasn’t because of her.

“I love you.” He says before she shuts the door once more, the wall of their friendship being built slowly.

‘I love you’ she thinks is just the worst thing she’s ever heard, just a painful reminder that the love they share has never been on the same page, just another shatter of her already broken heart.

You can’t have love without the pain, and she’s the definition of just how much love can truly hurt you.

[edenianprincess]

INTRO !!      ❤︎ ׄ                                               Different ways to say I love you .ᐟ

Sweet gestures that demonstrate their love to a gender neutral!reader. Characters chosen are Bi-Han, Kuai Liang, Tomas. Content warning: none, just fluff. Please, respond to the poll at the end!

Bi-Han !

He lets you call him by stupid nicknames, he acts annoyed when you're using them, but he won't admit to anyone or even to himself that he is fond of them. Everything you make him feel is so unusual for Bi-Han, he doesn't know why he seeks for this warm fuzzy sensation every time he has your attention and affection, when his body as well as his soul are made of ice, but he does, and your foolish nicknames provide them. So, if someone else uses them, he would not only see it as an attack on his honor, not hesitating to put them back in their place, reminding them of whom they're talking to, but also, who do they think they are to call him like that when they’re not you. He prefers if you only use them in private, for plenty of reasons which include that he thinks your love life should be kept private, it isn't a subject of chatter for everyone to be entertained with, but also a matter of respecting his clan's honor as he is its head. He'll be grumpy if you do, but let’s be real, when is he not.

"How many times do I have to apologise for you to move on, snowhan?" Your voice whispers in his ear as your body is glued to his back, an arm hugging his neck while your fingers are twirling a loose strand of his hair that escaped from his bun. The man in your arms lets out a grunt. "Those champions lack senses for making fun of me, Liu Kang wouldn’t have stop me I would have knock them some of it in their head. And you.. my own partner disrespecting me in front of them." Despite his back facing you, you can feel his glare that is meant for you when he spits those words. But, even with the anger within him, he doesn’t move on from where he is, not even moving an inch when you take his clenching fist and start doing circles on them. "I thought I made it clear but apparently it wasn’t enough for you to get it. How can we bring glory to the Lin Kuei, when my companion lacks perspicacity and respect for their husband, out of all people you should know better than putting on a foolish act… " His voice fades away, it seems like he was going to continue his rambling but loses himself instead in your fingers gently brushing his silky hair, his bun long gone since, causing his grunts to become quiet moans. "I'm sorry, I won't do it again." You suddenly remove yourself from him. When he feels your fingers being taken away from his hair, it catchs him off guard as he turns around to see you smiling innocently but also playfully, which he returns with a dirty look that questions as to why did you stopped. You tell him that you’re just respecting his space like a good spouse should. "Nonsense, there's nothing preventing us here. Continue what you were doing. Now.” He pulls you back with ease in his embrace going back to the soft moment where for once he let his guard down, and that’s a sight no else should be able to see.

Making sure you sleep well. Rest is important, he doesn't want to have a weak lover by his side, you must keep your energy in check and if you don't do it, he will. When he goes to bed at the same time as you, he'll wait for you to sleep first before he does, making sure you don't go on a sleepless night, and it gives him a moment alone to appreciate your features. If you can't sleep, he'll help by brewing warm tea or if necessary, draw a bath, anything that will help he’ll do, it’s one of his rare soft moments where he lets the cold facade fall for once, it’s in the night where it feels like you and him without the world or the worries. When he is occupied during the night because of his role as Grandmaster, he'll go check up on you, always, to see if you're sleeping safe and well. 

He opens the door slowly of your shared bedroom and walks at quiet steps to your sleeping figure, when he is next to the bed he let the blanket he searched for fall on your body and make sure to cover the exposed areas. The night is colder than usual and you aren’t used to the cold like he is, he doesn’t want you to end up ill and weak.  After he finishes tucking you in, he takes a moment to trace the features of your face delicately, his finger travelling from the lips he enjoys kissing to the cheek he loves holding, but it doesn’t last long as he has to go, with one last stroke he moves away to the door that he closes after looking at you again. Each times, seeing the moonlight illuminating your soft features in the dark night reminds him that seeing you being so peaceful is one of the reason he wants to strengthen the clan even more, the universe is full of threats from every realms and now even from every timelines, it gives him unspeakable worries if one of those threats reaches you, it’s too late to go back when the Lin Kuei was being held back and weak, time is changing and he needs to go forward with it. 

Kuai Liang !

Using his powers to make you feel better.  Whenever he sees you shivering cold, he'll automatically wrap his hand around your waist, offering to share his body heat. But, if that's not enough he'll slightly heat himself up, making sure to not burn you but still bring enough warmth. You're free to lean on or snuggle to him whenever you want to, he isn't one to reject his lover when they are in need, and it would be a lie to say he doesn't find it adorable when you seek for him to warm yourself up, sometimes you’re throwing yourself on him so he has no choice but to hug you back, not that he complains, his arms are always open and keep their high temperature for you. He is also your personal heating pad for stomachache, it saddens him to see his loved ones in pain, so he's happy when he's able to help ease it even for a little, by rubbing where the pain is.

It is a particularly cold day and nothing that you found could bring you enough heat. You know it is the day for Kuai Liang to train the recruits so you go to the training place and seek for him. When you find him, you lightly tap on his shoulder without saying a word, and just by the look in your eyes Kuai Liang knows you need something, so he follows you into a secret hiding from the rest of the clan where you can talk. “What is it, my lo-” He is about to ask, but you interrupt him by throwing your arms above his waist and push your face into his toned chest that you can feel through the fabric. It takes him by surprise but he quickly laughs and returns the hug, you feel his hot touch on your trembling body, causing to send shivers of excitement down your spine. A sudden wave of comfort and heat rushes through your skin as he uses his power. You don’t want to hog him just for yourself but it feels so good and you don’t want to leave him for the moment either, his strong but gentle hands slowly start doing small caresses on your back as if you were the softest and most precious thing he ever held in his hands. “Does it feel better, love?” His lips whisper close to your face, so close you can feel his breath warming up your cheeks. You can think he is using his power in his smooth voice to make your heart melt like that. “Yes.. yes, it does.” Your voice drifts away as you let Kuai Liang’s warmth embracing you fully, enjoying it as long as it last.

Letting you do his hair. Every morning, you have the habit of brushing his hair until every knot is untangled, then putting them in a high and tight bun so he won’t be bothered when he goes to work. He can do his hair alone, but he trusts you with it, besides from his parents when he was a boy, nobody has ever touched his hair. It feels intimate and relaxing whenever your fingers pass through his hair which feel like silk, for once it’s like he puts a pause on everything and lets you manage the moment, with nothing being able to interrupt it. It’s impressive, even for him on how can you put the pyromancer in a vulnerable state just by your touch, while his enemies had train all their life to get even an once of his vulnerability, it’s like any fire within him extinguish with your presence. He really wishes to pay you back in some way, if you have long hair he’ll do them if you let him, styling you in hairstyles that he thinks embellish your natural beauty. And of course, his hair ties and pins become yours and vice versa.

“And, here you go.” You say as you rearrange the bun making sure no hair escaped. When you are finished, Kuai Liang turns around to face you, you feel the rough skin of his hand passing over your hand and gently take it to pull it lightly to bring you closer to him. “Thank you, beloved. I can't think of anyone better.” His gaze who holds sincerity it doesn't leave your eyes, still holding your hand he intertwines your fingers in an unbreakable link between his. “It's a simple gesture, however I'm happy to be the one to do it.” You smile at him, you really feel lucky to be the only one who can share this moment with him even for how simple it is, passing your fingers through is hair is almost like a small addiction, his smooth hair framing perfectly his handsome face is a sight you can't get tired of. “It may not be much but it means a lot to me.” His hand strokes your chin before pulling it and his lips capture yours in a kiss. It feels sweet and soft but you can feel the deep emotions he is putting in it, he is not letting your face go from his hand until his lips leave yours and smile tenderly at you.

Tomas !

Being your number 1 fan. This man is quite easy to amaze, but nothing amazes him more than his sweet partner that is you. Everything that you try receives a compliment from Tomas, some may say he is a fool in love, while he’ll say that he is simply proud of you. His significant other kicking ass? That’s my bae for you! Showing off a new trick you just learned? It’s impressive, could you teach him how to do that? (Definitely not an excuse to spend some time with you) While the praises are genuine, they’re also here to make sure you don’t fall into the rabbit hole of insecurities, which unfortunately he has sunk in too many times. He would hate for you to feel bad about yourself, it means for him that he failed as a boyfriend and by extents, he failed you, that’s why he needs to cheer you up and show how much you’re incredible in his eyes.

It is one of those days again, where a gloomy feeling overcomes your mind and manifests itself when you're looking at yourself in the mirror almost defeated by its reflection, the more you look in the mirror the more you are able to see each imperfection and you suddenly start to feel like a mess. Tomas who has just arrived to check on you, notices your weird behavior, how you twirl your clothes, and look at yourself in every angle with a frown on the mirror that you have been looking at for a long time now, he knows what this means and he knows he needs to put a stop to it. Your investigation is suddenly brought to an end when you feel a pair of strong arms around your waist. “Hey, you look particularly beautiful today, have you done something new?” Tomas asks with curiosity and a small smirk, he is looking at you in the mirror and you notice his eyes are filled with fondness which makes you smile in returns. “I just woke up, Tomas. I didn't even brush my hair yet.” “Oh, I suppose it's your natural charm that makes you beautiful then.” When he says that you can't help but kiss him on the cheek, no matter how many times these bad feelings come back they could never surpass the feelings that your boyfriend is making you feel.

Making you surprises. Tomas is always trying to show that he cares for his partner, he fears that he may not show it enough so he tries through little pleasant surprises that he knows you will like. For example, bringing breakfast in bed, it’s convenient that most of the time he wakes up before you, as the way of teaching from the clan does not allow to sleep in and wake up after the enemy does. He’ll cook your favorite food of course, and somehow the fact that it is made by him makes it even more appetizing but also he learned from the best cook that he knows who is Madam Bo, honestly you don’t know who is sweeter between the breakfast or your boyfriend. He also likes to leave love notes when he is on duty in places he knows that you go and sometimes those notes are attached to cute gifts like plushies, chocolate or flowers.

Good morning, Love! I hope you slept well and did beautiful dreams (hopefully about me). I regret not being with you here but we had to leave early this morning and I didn’t want to wake you up so early. I made you a quick breakfast before leaving and this time it didn’t burn! I promise I’ll make up for my absence but for the time I wish you a nice day and can’t wait to hear about what you did tonight. With love, Tomas :) Your smile grows when you re-read the notes that Tomas left, you kept a small pile of them in the drawer and like to go through again when you’re in an emotional mood. Some of them are small, others are longer, they can be funny or romantic with a deep otherwise cheesy love quote, either written by Tomas or this ‘anonymous’ person who signs as ‘The King Of Smoke’ and hopes to not be caught by your boyfriend so he can keep sending you gifts that represents his love. Whatever those letters are, they always contain his sweet nature in them and never fail to touch you.

‘𝓣𝐇𝐄 𝓔𝐍𝐃  Please don’t copy/translate and don’t reblog if you’re a yand3r3 blog/reblog account, or you’ll be blocked. Besides that, likes/reblogs/comments are appreciated.  Imagine Tomas leaving a love note and Bi-Han finds it accidentally, you can’t even imagine the disgust that he has on his face, he is even more displeased with Tomas than he already is, why can’t he keep his personal stuff private and not expose it to all the clan.

[twistedwonderlandimaginesblog]

Hi! This is my first time requesting so I'm kinda nervous.😅 may I rq headcannons where reader is getting married and they ask Ace and Duece to walk them down the aisle ( separately, but maybe you could do one where reader ask both of them to walk them down the aisle if that's ok)? Like how would they react?

Also you can choose who reader is getting married to or it can be anonymous! Love your writing btw 💕

Ace Trappola, Deuce Spade:

You will make them cry. One of them is a little more obvious than the other but you can feel the love they have for you radiating off in waves when they accept, pride swelling in their chest as they get to be the one to walk you down the aisle on your special day. Ace did have to question why you chose them rather than someone in your family but he decided not to push the subject, having at least some sense not to step on a potential landmine (and with Deuce glaring at him, he realized he should have some chivalry if even Deuce could realize when to not say something stupid).

Ace Trappola:

Ace seemed to think you were punking him when you asked, eyebrow raised as he wondered what you got out of joking with him like that. When you double down that you’re serious, seeming almost hurt that he might deny your request because of a misunderstanding, he backpedaled a little just to figure out what his real thoughts were. He might need a minute to think about it because, as you could suspect, it was an important position in a wedding and he was still in awe that you considered him important enough to be the one to do it. He wanted to know why you chose him over anyone else but he decided not to look a gift horse in the mouth, glad he got to be part of your special day on a deeper level.

Deuce Spade:

Deuce couldn’t help but light up when you asked him, tears briefly gathering in the corners of his eyes before they’re wiped away by an excited grin. Did he have to practice with you? Just to make sure he walked at the right pace, and that he wouldn’t step on your outfit or accidentally knock you out of the aisle therefore ruining the wedding altogether? He’s as nervous as he is happy, glad that he meant enough to you that you wanted him to have a part in your wedding. He was more than honored to walk you down the aisle but he was stressed about getting everything right, and up until he handed you off to your partner at the altar, you could tell he was as serious and focused as he could be.

[pagannatural]

2.03 Bloodlust

-Sam flirts with Dean by telling him (and the Impala) to get a room. Meanwhile he’s looking at Dean like this and the two of them are, literally, getting a room.

-Sam tells the bartender “we’re looking for some people” and the bartender says “sure, hard to be lonely.”

Sam blinks wide, grimaces. Dean looks at him, assessing. Sam looks down and then at Dean while he says “yeah, but, um…” slowly, then he regroups and pulls out a fifty, “that’s not what I meant.” There’s a sexual implication to being lonely and looking for someone at a bar, and the brothers share a very loaded look about it. It’s like this bartender accidentally hit on a truth.

Sam has been lonely for Dean. He’s been trying to get Dean to talk to him and spend time with him since their dad died, and Dean has been shutting Sam out emotionally. Sam knows Dean is lonely for him too, even though he won’t say it.

-Sam notices something is off when Dean says he’s been itching for a hunt. He and Dean also make prolonged eye contact after Dean kills a vampire and his face is spattered with blood, and Sam notices Dean is unsettled. They give each other strength just by staring into each others eyes. Sam’s always paying attention to Dean.

-Dean also notices right away that Sam’s off and asks him if he’s okay. Noticing Sam, for him, is less watchful and more like noticing the orbit of his own moon. Gravity’s off, something’s up with Sam.

-Sam went from correcting Dean every time he used Sam’s nickname to “he’s the only one who gets to call me that.” It’s so possessive, like he’s saying I’m his not yours. Dean notices and smiles to himself. Then he says “Sammy remind me to beat that buzzkill outta you later” you’re gonna do what to him later?

-Sam’s development from telling Dean he has to let him go to identifying him as the only one who can use his nickname is also the change from Sam seeking distance to Sam acquiescing to being Dean’s.

-Dean tells Gordon a story about killing a monster at 16 while Sammy waited in the car. He didn’t need to mention where Sammy was, he wasn’t a part of the story, but he has a condition* that makes him talk about Sammy to strangers whenever he’s not there (*wretched, soul-crushing love).

-Dean tells Gordon he always thought of his dad as indestructible. Now he’s questioning everything about his dad’s teachings and realizing the version of John in his head is not the only one.

-Sam says he sees through Dean’s fake smile and knows how Dean feels, because he feels the same way. When Sam says that Dean’s behavior is “an insult to [John’s] memory,” Dean kind of nods and raises his eyebrows like “you have no fucking idea” before punching Sam in the face.

-For once, Sam is way off about Dean. He has no idea how Dean feels or what he’s dealing with. The idea of insulting vs honoring John’s memory is complicated for Dean right now. He’s seeing Sam being protective of John for maybe the first time ever and I can just imagine Dean thinking, I raised you, and the man you finally want to respect as your father asked me to kill you.

-Dean looks regretful after he punches Sam, like he’s realizing he took it too far, and Sam looks hurt and taken aback, his eyes searching to and away from Dean and his mouth open. And then Sam tells Dean, “you can hit me all you want. It won’t change anything.”

There are some potential layers to that.

1. They’re arguing about something else here, at the same time—whether or not vampires can choose to act ethically or if they’re inherently evil. Sam implores Dean not to kill them, believing the former. Dean wants killing to be black and white due to Dead Dad’s Last Words reasons. Hitting Sam won’t make the issue any clearer.

2. Sam’s words could be interpreted as “you can hurt me all you want and it won’t change how I feel.” About Dean. Or “whatever you do it won’t change the way things are.” Between them.

3. Sam has been begging Dean to give him something real and emotional, he’s been pushing and pushing him to get a reaction, escalating and becoming more desperate. Now Dean has responded. He’s hurt Sam, but that means he’s touched him out of uncontrollable emotion—or better yet has chosen to inflict his feelings and needs upon Sam’s body. The pain is better than nothing.

It’s hard to be lonely.

-When I first saw this scene I was shook. Dean hit his baby brother! My best guess is that Dean has never punched him like this before, outside of the context of sparring. I might be wrong about that, but the way Sam accepts the punch and turns slowly back to Dean with that disbelieving look felt too significant. I thought Sam was going to feel betrayed or scared, but Sam’s resolve strengthens, he gazes after Dean, and then he follows him.

And then things go right back to normal between them.

-Another thing Sam is missing is that Dean trusts Gordon partially because Dean can identify with Gordon. Gordon said he hunts vampires because vampires killed his sister, and Dean trusts another protective brother.

-Sam tracks the nest and Dean says “you’re good. You’re a monster pain in the ass, but you’re good.” Just like that they’re reconciled. Sam’s face is probably still throbbing, it’s been like 3 minutes.

-When Gordon pulls a knife on Sam and admits he killed his sister himself, it’s over for him. Dean is not having any of that.

-Dean punches Gordon in the face in front of Sam, then moves really close to Sam to tell him they can leave now. It’s like he wants Sam to see what he’ll do to anyone who threatens him. Dean is the only one who’s allowed to hurt Sam. He also asks Sam to punch him to get him back, so he clearly feels guilty.

-Dean’s true nature is a huge theme in this episode. He’s trying to understand who he is. Gordon tells him that he was “born to hunt” and “a killer like me.” John wrote the same things about child-Dean in his diary.

At the end of the episode, Dean tells Sam that he has the instinct to kill and would’ve killed the vampires. That’s how he was raised, it’s what John told him to do. I love how Dean is a caregiver and a killer in equal measure, he takes naturally to both violence and nurturing.

Sam reminds him he made the right choice. Dean says “yeah cause you’re a pain in my ass.” He made the decision because of Sam. He’ll kill for Sam but he’ll also decide not to kill for Sam.

Sam says “I guess I might have to stick around to be a pain in the ass then.” Dean thanks him and gazes at him intently. Even here, notice the mention of their connection being painful.

Sam is now agreeing to stick with Dean not because of what John would’ve wanted but because he’s accepting his role as Dean’s guiding light, the one thing that gives him a sense of purpose and good.

Dean’s purpose is not killer or caregiver, but protector. He’s guardian of Sam’s soul.

[stuffeddeer]

hii hru? i have a fic request umm i have this idea thats been sitting in my head for TOO LONG... i need to get it out how would bsd men (your choice) react to a reader who is too nice of a person, basically an ANGEL but seeks love from people who treats them like shit.,,.,. n theyre always like "nono theyre a great friend" (i need to stop doing this though it happens too many times)

ok bye!! have a lovely day!!!!!!

if someone treats me wrongly i will treat them wrongER. i do not start shit but i will End It. i included Dazai, Ranpo, Nikolai, Atsushi and Chuuya :) ive never written for Chuuya and Atsushi but i just kept typing so umm mb!! don’t read the last two unless ur crazy

Dazai would be so frustrated internally. He had been one of those people you give such patience to, and he knows everyone else is only preying that kind nature. He’d subtly try and point out that what they’re doing is bad, but he has always preferred a less direct approach. Threatening. Okay, yes yes, Dazai has turned over a new leaf, but as long as he doesn’t hurt or kill it’s fine, right? Are mild and “empty” threats really that bad? He’d chase away those people easily, helping you to meet others like his coworkers at the Agency or reminding you of the good friends you have and how you should spend more time with them. If you’re the type to tolerate rudeness from others but Not tolerate it when people are rude to your friends, Dazai would lie and claim that these assholes wronged him in some devastating way so you never forgive them.

Ranpo would (metaphorically) hit you upside the head. What do you think you’re doing, letting anyone treat you as less than you are? Not because he cares for you (so he claims), but because you’re associated with him! By allowing these, for lack of a better word, losers to treat you so awfully, you’re taking down his image with you! How would people react if they knew that the greatest detective allowed his friend (..?) to be treated so horribly? That he of all people couldn’t knock some sense into you? He’d huff, reminding you that you’d only need him and the Agency anyway, so why waste your time with such imbeciles 🙄

Nikolai is the one who treats you like shit. He hadn’t originally meant to — not any more than usual, that is — but watching you defend horrible actions from people that didn’t matter made him wonder if you’d do the same for those that do (being him, of course). He’d change at the drop of a hat, doting on you and cherishing you to kicking you out and ghosting you for weeks. But when he messaged you once again, you’d find yourself back on a bus approaching his apartment. Because of course you are, how could you leave Nikolai when he’s been so kind to you? He said he was busy, and what reason did you have not to believe him?

Atsushi would see himself in you but it’d just be a cycle. You’d see others treating him poorly and get angry, and he’d see people doing that with you, but you both would defend your “friends” up and down until exhaustion kept you from continuing. Atsushi is used to being used, so it’s fine, and seemingly so are you, so you’re fine, and it just repeats forever. But, if Atsushi’s options are to hang out with you or those jerks, then you’ll just have to spend more time with him. And if your options are to hang out with him or those jerks, he’ll just have to spend more time with you. The cycle ends, but without any real confrontation, which is how the both of you would prefer it.

Chuuya: your loyal guard dog. If he can’t convince you not to see “those piece of shit, dumbass jerks” ever again he’d tag along. Everything except barking would be on the table - he’d growl when they talked over you or break a finger if he had to. This is the man you want by your side, because he’d fight for your honor when he needs to or take you back to his place for a soothing spa-adjacent bath with amazing scented candles and over the top bubbles, maybe a glass of expensive wine, to unwind and forget it all. Also he’d block their numbers from your phone and threaten them to never contact you again 💀

[spacecowboyhotch]

The Bee & the Bear, Chapter 1: And Then There Were Four

summary: Mikey’s death brings the gang back together again.

pairing: carmy berzatto x f!reader (Bee)

contents: 18+/NSFW/heavy content, mention of suicide/mental illness, grief, longing, pining, angst, friends to strangersish to lovers

wc: 2.1k

an: this is my first time writing for the Bear so i beg of you to go easy on me.

series masterlist

The sky is gray and cloudy and birds are singing softly, perched in dead trees. There’s snow on the ground, crunching beneath the weight of everyone’s shoes. Beneath the weight of everyone’s grief, so heavy it's palpable. It’s the coldest day of the year, fitting for the occasion. Because Mikey’s dead, taken from all of you with his own hand.

You’re sandwiched between Sugar and Richie, to keep them apart, to keep them together. Regardless of their history and their care for each other, it's always touch and go– a disaster waiting to happen. But with you here and in the flesh after so many years, they’re both trying to balance that fucked up mixture of happiness from seeing your face and the pure despair from losing Mikey.

“Thank you for comin’, sweetheart,” Richie squeezes your shoulders, his eyes soft and watery when you look up at him.

You lean more firmly into his side, “You know I wouldn’t miss it.”

“You know who would.”

You know exactly who he’s talking about. Carmy isn’t here, and while anyone else would expect him to show up to his brother’s funeral it had not surprised you. Not with how the last several years have gone. Richie’s words make you sigh tiredly, and you give him a stern look. The last thing that Mikey’s funeral needs is more blaming. That didn’t start at Mikey’s funeral though, the Berzattos have pointed fingers at each other for as long as you can remember.

There are faces familiar and not around you, all of them turned to the ground, paying their last respects to Mikey. This hurts, it hurts deeper than anything you’ve ever felt before. Since you’d gotten that phone call from Sugar something heavy and dark has sat in the pit of your stomach, taking root and finding its home there. Life has always been the 5 of you, even with you and Carmy strewn across the country. You and Mikey and Carmy and Sugar and Richie. A reality that you’d always known, that you found comfort in on days you felt a little too homesick. Your relationships with all of them heavily inspired your art, they had become your family.

As you watch Mikey’s casket be lowered into the ground you can’t help but feel like your lens on life has shifted. For the first time in a long time, you aren’t completely sure where anything goes.

—

“Are you hungry?” Sugar asks as the two of you shed your coats and head into her kitchen.

There was no repass, what with the restaurant currently closed. Everyone had agreed it didn’t feel right to eat anything but The Beef in Mikey’s honor. There had been one last huddle, shared goodbyes and I love yous, and many tears before everyone had dispersed. You’d promised Sugar that you’d help her sort through everything since Carmy never showed up.

“Starving.”

She sets the file box full of Mikey’s paperwork on the counter and takes a step towards the fridge, “I’ll make us something.”

You rest your hand over hers, shaking your head, “No, it’s good, Sugar. Sit, start sifting, I’ll do it.”

“You sure?” She asks skeptically– sure you know how to work your way around a kitchen-- its impossible not to with Mikey and Carmy-- before you’ve never been known for being a cook. You're the artist, the traditional creative of the bunch who has mess and color strewn all about.

“I’m sure, just let me help. It’s what I’m here for, yeah?”

Her eyes go a little soft and she nods, “Yeah, okay.”

She goes to sit at the breakfast bar, looking at the pile of documents that hold Mikey’s life. Heaps and heaps of paper that mean nothing to her. That do a terrible job of capturing who Mikey was and what his life meant to others.

You open the fridge, poking through the contents as if you’ve done this a million times. That’s just how things are with Sugar, they’re comfortable– always have been and always will be. She has the ingredients for their mom’s chicken piccata in her fridge and you quickly fetch them and the proper tools.

Sugar does her best to stay on task, but the sounds of someone else in the kitchen, and the smell of her mother’s food are distracting. She watches the flick of your wrist and the speed of your knife. You dice and sprinkle and stir in similar ways to her brothers. It’s impossible to notice.

“You look like them,” She says, her voice a little melancholic.

“Look like who?” You ask, glancing over your shoulder at her in concern.

The smile on her face is wistful, “Like Mikey. Like Carmy. Carmy especially.”

Something in your chest cracks. You turn back to the pan in front of you, spooning sauce over the chicken one too many times, just to stay away from the tender look on her face. “They did teach me the basics.”

She’s silent for a moment, battling herself, wondering if she should ask this question. It’s a touchy subject, it always has been despite your closeness but she just had to know. “I sorta know the answer to this, but did you…did you try?”

“Don’t start with me, Nat.”

“I just want to know,” She assures you gently. “Did you really try?”

You reach for the jar of capers angrily, though this is less about the anger and more about the hurt. About the longing, this brings up. “He treated me just like everyone else. There was nothing for me to try.”

“You know Carmen’s always had a soft spot for you.”

“Not soft enough to follow through on his words,” You mumble sourly.

She goes quiet then because you’re right. Carmy had taken off for culinary school and seemingly never looked back, besides the infamous Christmas– the one you don’t even know about. All of his promises of staying in touch and showing each other new worlds fell flat.

You had tried. You offered to take him on a food crawl through Seattle where you were going to art school.

“Oh my fucking god,” She grits out, the shock in her voice sending you into fight or flight. The plate in your hand clatters to the counter without breaking, thankfully.

You turn to her, leaning across the counter, “What? What’s wrong?”

Her eyes continue to scan the page in front of her, over and over as if the letters will say something different. “Michael you fucking— he left Bear the restaurant.”

“He what?”

“Fucking Mikey,” She stands abruptly, scrubbing her face with her hands. “Ok, ok, um–uh–can you call Bear? I’m gonna call Richie.”

“Me? Call Carmy?”

Was the man that you’d fallen in love with when he was just a little boy really still out there? Sure, he was— living and breathing, walking and cooking and testing. But, all of that was mechanical. Was his smile still the same? His laugh? Did a heart still beat in that empty chest of his? Did his blue eyes still hold as much as Lake Michigan?

Sugar sees your panic, face softening with concern, “We both know he won’t answer, you’ll be fine.”

“But—“

“Please, Bee?”

The name that Sugar calls you knocks the breath from your lungs. It’s been a long, long time since anyone has called you that— since you left for college. Since the last time you’d seen Carmy. Would he still call you that? He’d started it after all. Named you Bee because you were obsessed with painting flowers, they covered your room, all of your canvas and anything else your parents deemed invaluable enough to lose to your hobby turned career.

“Hey, you okay?” She asks when you don’t respond after several seconds.

You blink a few times before refocusing on her. You shrug, trying to appear nonchalant, “What? Yeah, just fine.”

Her brow furrows, and she steps closer reaching out to run her hand up and down your arm, “Are you sure?”

You give a smile that doesn’t touch your eyes and fish your phone out of your pocket, “Yeah, I’m good. I’ll go call Carmy.”

Before Sugar can respond you make your way to the front door and let yourself out. You’re met with the frigid Chicago air, the wind whipping at your cheeks. With your coat inside, the cold chills you to the bone but the feeling is welcome. It shocks your nervous system in a way that makes it easier to call Carmy. Your head is clear, and most of your focus is now on warming your fingers as you dial his number and start to pace.

Sugar was right– he doesn’t answer. It rings and rings and rings until you hear his voice for the first time in years. It's the same message that he’d set years ago: Hey, it's Carmy. Let it rip at the beep.

Many beats of silence pass before you realize that it's time for you to speak.

“Oh fuck, sorry. H-Hi, Carmen. It’s…it’s me. Nat and I just went through Mikey’s will and well…he left it to you. The Beef I mean, it’s yours. Sugar really needs you to come home to figure this out.”

You pause for a moment, wondering if you should say anything about yourself. About your friendship that he’s let crumble. About your heart that he’s ground into dust with each day that goes by with no contact. No that won’t do.

“Just come home and help your fucking sister. Please, Carmy,” You plead softly before hanging up.

You aren’t sure if that was a good enough attempt, but you don’t want to risk calling back and having to face him. Despite your worry, it does the trick.

—

You and Sugar are tucked in Mikey’s office, combing through records of unpaid pills and disorganized expense reports when it happens.

“Cousin!” Richie yells with just enough disbelief in his voice for you to know.

You and Sugar look at each other with wide eyes, hands frozen and full of stacks of paper. You can hear them clambering through the restaurant, making their way to you and you wish that some freak accident that denies the laws of physics would swallow you up.

To your dismay, It doesn’t.

Carmy and Richie round the corner, and you’re a goner like you’ve been all these years. Soft blue eyes that give the crystal skies a run for their money and a messy mop of ashy hair. It doesn’t matter that a man waits for you at home or how many times you’ve told yourself that you’re over Carmy. It never sticks, you don’t know why you thought it would. You were hoping that he’d hurt you enough for it to fade.

Carmy stops in his tracks at the sight of you, throwing Richie a look that clearly says “you couldn’t have warned me”. You aren’t sure how to interpret it– was he excited to see you? Upset?

He stuffs his hands into his pockets nervously and leans against the door frame. “Hi. Hey,” He means to say it to you and Sugar, but his eyes don’t leave your face.

“Hey,” You squeak, cheeks heating in embarrassment. You clear your throat and try again. “Hi, Carmen.”

“Hey, Bear,” Sugar waves her hand playfully as if she’s trying to get his attention, and his eyes finally flit over to her.

He smiles, one that you know is genuine despite that lack of teeth. His eyes drop to the ground and he nods a few times before glancing to Natalie again. “So he left it to me,” He says lamely.

“Yeah, Carmy, he left it to you,” Sugar repeats his words, frustrated not only with Carmy for his late arrival or for his lack of appearance at his own brother’s funeral but for this entire situation.

None of them should be here trying to figure this out. Mikey should be in this kitchen with Richie, she should be at home thinking about what she and Pete for dinner. And though this finally brought you and Carmy home, she wishes that things were the way they were just a few short weeks ago. She wants Mikey alive.

“Guess that means I should open it.”

Richie gives out a shout before clapping Carmy on the shoulder, “See now I like the sound of that, cousin.”

Carmy flinches under Richie’s touch, hoping no one will notice. It's not something he wants to talk about or even think about. He can feel your eyes on him and quickly makes up an excuse to put some space between the two of you. “I’m gonna go check out the stock in the fridge. It— uh, good to see you, Bee.”

You nod awkwardly, though those simple words make your heart race, “You too, Carmy.”

Richie doesn’t follow after him, stepping into the office and crossing his arms. The three of you sit there in a silence that screams he has something to say.

“Just say it, Richie. Fuck’s sake,” Sugar finally says, rubbing her temples.

Your brow furrows as your head whips from side to side to look between them. “Say what?”

“You know he’ll notice, right?” Richie asks you, leaning back against the desk.

“Notice what?”

Richie looks at Sugar expectantly, and she sighs, rubbing at her temples again. She fixes you with a look that is as sympathetic as it is accusatory, “That you don’t call him Bear anymore.”

| > chapter 2: Back in the Beef

let me know if you’d like to be on the carmy taglist!

[ditzycowgirl]

WHAT IS YOUR FUTURE SPOUSE LIKE?

If you do like the reading, be sure to like and share with your friends! Tipping is a very kind, yet optional gesture. Here is my ko-fi and I am open for paid readings if you'd like a more in depth answer to your questions! (Paid reading link)

If this doesn't apply to you, its ok. It's a general reading. Hope you like it!

…

Pile 1: Seashells

For those of you who picked pile one. I pulled: the 9 of pentacles, the fool, the chariot, the 7 of cups, and the knight of pentacles. I see two very contrasting energies, one very grounded, and the other is very free spirited (take it how it resonates, could be you or them) Or they have a certain duality to their personality. They seem very confident in themselves, they see an opportunity, and they go for it. They are so confident that they often wander into situations without much thought (what I got with the fool card) which could benefit them or it just doesn’t. I feel like they are easily influenced, so it’s hard for them to make their own decisions (7 of cups) I feel like when they meet you, they will try not to mess things up with you, and they will make a very slow approach to you (contradicting their free spirit nature) They will see you as a grand person in their best energy, and will try to grow up a little bit in terms of their energy not matching up to yours. I see this can be in financial terms or energetically because I pulled the fool for them (can be interchangeable) and the 9 of pentacles for you. I think they’ll be confused as to whether or not they’re the one for you, but it would become more obvious as time goes by for them. I get a childlike energy for them. (Not childish, but innocent)

…

Pile 2: Flowers

I see a LOT of action! I pulled the empress, the 8 of wands, the tower, the knight of swords, the 9 of cups, and the king of swords! (Extra card popped out) I feel like before you meet your future spouse, there will be two options (one will be astronomically better than the other person) because the king of swords appeared next to the 9 of cups (9 of cups trying to be just like the king of swords, it’s not) I feel like the “better” option (in your eyes, the king) will try to impress you? I see that your future spouse may be very fiery, they may like debate and is prone to starting fiery debates or arguments. They may be a person who boasts, yet is very fair, intellectual, and humble. They have achieved a lot in life and they like to put their “trophies” on display. I’m getting a specific message for some. They are either really good communicators (really talkative) or they are planning on reaching out to you soon (if you don’t know them yet) I see that they may be family oriented, regarding their mother or a mother figure, or sees you as very warm and abundant.

…

Pile 3: The Beach

I pulled the 2 of cups, the 10 of swords, the 4 of swords, the 10 of wands, and the wheel of fortune. Very mixed energy, I get that this person can be a bit over dramatic, like they put on a show. You never know what to expect with them (wheel of fortune) but they do have a heavy past (which I’m not going to elaborate on) but despite their acts, they do deal with a lot behind the scenes. They are very hard working, and sometimes bites off more than they can chew in terms of work load. They need to learn how to relax and let go sometimes, let things flow. They mean well, and they will honor this connection. I’m seeing that someone’s angels are bringing you two together. Fate will bring you two together. They are a peaceful person in nature. They value partnerships. I saw the number 101010. You are meant to know this person. I’m hearing that this could be a soulmate or twin flame (take it as it resonates) They could love to take naps. Knows how to pick themselves (and you) up when things are not going well for them (or you) Maybe shy since some cards don’t show their face (or they’re mysterious) I’m getting that (from earlier) they may put on a show to hide their dark past or feelings. Could be physically strong.