@xdeerxhealerx sent in : "Bowen, I got a Valentine's Day gift for you, but you'll have to wait"
UNPROMPTED : ALWAYS Accepting!
"A... A Valentine's gift?" He blinked, a few times, his face was beginning to turn red already and it wasn't even Valentine's Day itself yet! "O..oh... I see... I... can't wait to see what it is!"
She actually got him a Valentine's gift.. he's feeling butterflies in his stomach.. even though he too, got her a gift for that special day too!
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unknown caller (rating: explicit)
category: F/F | words: 3,300 | pairing: mello/near
for @dnkinktober day 11 (praise kink) and day 13 (phone sex)
summary:
“What are you wearing?”
Near’s brow furrows in confusion. “What I always have worn.”
“Mm. It’s summer, so— linen, right?”
“Correct.”
She wonders, then, if Mello asked the question to prompt Near to ask the same in return. Sometimes people do that. This is something she has learned since Mello left.
“What are you wearing?” Near asks politely.
“I am wearing,” Mello says, breathy, “black lace. It’s this— this fucking expensive set, you know— nice lingerie. I look good in it.”
The description is extremely vague. Near does not know what nice lingerie looks like— she wears the same kind of cotton boyshort underwear every single day and a soft, thin bra. She also does not, honestly, know what Mello’s aim is in telling her this. It seems unlikely that she would call for the first time in five years to gloat about her finery, so there must be some kind of purpose to it, she just—
“I’m touching myself,” Mello announces.
Near drops the phone.
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DEARLY SMEGGING BELOVED
Rimster wedding day. 💖 These boys are so shaped.
[ID: a digital illustration, in vibrant shades of blue in a cartoonish style showing the Red Dwarf characters Lister and Rimmer getting married, officiated by the Cat, while Kryten and Holly stand to the side as the wedding party and several guests look on.
Kryten is wearing a frilly hat and blouse in "mother of the bride" style. He is holding a handkerchief and crying dramatically.
Lister is wearing a tuxedo without the jacket, shirt partially untucked and bowtie undone. He is wearing his work boots. He is smiling fondly at Rimmer, arms crossed, confident.
Cat stands in the center in a black suit with a priest collar and thigh high white boots. He is wearing blue lipstick eyeliner, as well as silver heart-shaped dangly earrings and a natural hairstyle with gray hair on the temples and a braid in the back. He is posing with his eyes closed in a smug smile, as though he is modeling for a photoshoot.
Rimmer stands with his back very straight and his arms behind his back, wearing a white tuxedo with navy epaulets. He is blushing and smiling nervously at Lister.
To his right, the head of Holly in her female form is present on a screen, which is attached to a stand with wheels. Holly is wearing pearl earrings and her hair is in a neat updo with bangs. To the corner of her screen, there is a basket of rose petals.
The wedding party is standing in front of a large window with criss-crossing lattice, looking out onto the blue and purple starscape of space through the glass.
Small text in the upper left-hand corner reads "Jack D. Goodfellow, 2022"
In the foreground of the image, some wedding guests are visible in the audience, seen from behind as though the viewer were seated behind them. the guests appear to include Hogey the Rogue-y, two of the skutters leaning on each other romantically, Kochanski, and Snacky the snack robot.
The rest of the images are all various crops of the first image for the purpose of making the detail work easier to see.
End ID.]
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I was today years old when I realized that there was a gay ship of *checks notes* Dutch politicians? Good for them, good for them.
Wiz you truly are the master of combining random things, making it about the vroom vroom men and sending people on an hour long google spiral into vaguely related topics!!
*brooklyn 99 meme* i have only known about resse for 24 hours but if anything happened to them i would k!ll everyone in the room and then myself
and you’re mistaken lovely anon…. i’m not stuck in here with y’all… y’all are stuck in here with ME and my random affliction to always ask: “now how can i make this about emissions yaoi!??”
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snippet from post-canon akeshu reunion fic i still hope to finish one day (◡‿◡✿)
The bench is cold. It’s the kind of cold that seeps past layers upon layers of clothes and makes Goro question whether it may actually be wet. But Akira’s sitting next to him, seemingly unbothered, so Goro pushes his concerns away. He stares ahead and pretends not to watch the mist of breath that floats out each time Akira exhales.
A finger swipes against his cheek. It takes him a second to register what just happened, and he goes rigid once he does.
Apparently unaware of Goro’s sudden career shift into performance art—namely impersonating statues with a dying, trapped soul—Akira calmly says, “You have freckles.”
Heat spreads rapidly from the point of contact, frazzling Goro’s brain and rendering him incapable of speech.
Akira takes his silence in stride. He doesn’t say anything, so Goro can’t not turn to look at him.
He’s met with a hint of a smile and bright eyes, and, oh, Goro will have to quickly get used to the fact that Akira no longer wears glasses or he’ll run the real risk of fainting every time he looks at his bare face.
“Did you always have them?” Akira says and lifts his hand again, fingers drawing closer—as if he’s just going to casually touch Goro again.
Goro leans back on instinct and covers his face with his own hand. He can feel his traitorous skin torching underneath his palm. “I—yes—ever since I was young.” Goro internally curses. He thought he’d grown out of stammering years ago. Trust Akira to reduce him to a babbling idiot within minutes.
Akira’s hand is still hovering near him, and he’s staring at Goro unabashedly, pinning him to the spot. “It’s the first time I’ve noticed them.”
“I hid them,” Goro blurts out. Whatever, it’s not like he hasn’t shared more personal things in the past. “Talk shows, well, any media outlets—they want you to have a spotless complexion.” His teenage years were composed of endless tasks: detective work, interviews, schoolwork, and assassinations, among other things. Adding an hour in his already busy schedule to apply a full face of makeup was just another daily annoyance he simply had to deal with.
He used to cake on concealer and foundation to cover his ever-present freckles and grey circles. He used to have a near breakdown every time a new pimple formed. He used to check available mirrors any chance he had to ensure his makeup was still intact.
Nowadays he only really uses a mirror to check his teeth and anything glaringly disgusting on his person. Acne still isn’t fun, but he can’t be pressed about something that’s natural and out of his hands.
Akira finally puts his hand down, thank god, so Goro puts his hand down as well. He knows his face must still be red, if the sweat forming under his scarf is to go by. He wonders if Akira’s too polite or too dense to point it out.
“It’s cute,” Akira says (dense then, and making it everyone else’s problem), unknowingly almost killing Goro a second time in the time they’ve been sitting here. “I like them.”
They’re just freckles. He doesn’t even give them a passing thought anymore, forgetting they exist now that he refuses to stare at his reflection for too long. But the way Akira says it, it makes Goro so damn happy he has these dots scattered across his cheeks.
“Thank you,” he mutters. “I like them too.”
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