You and Jinyoung have been attached at the hip for years but suddenly his feelings for you change.
You were inseparable.
You met in high school during your first year, the second week of school, in a math class the both of you hated.
He was the “it” boy at school, of course, exceptionally smart and incredibly popular though he tried to act oblivious to it all.
You didn’t really talk to anyone in class. Cliques were vital at school but you didn’t find any you fit into or more importantly, you didn’t find any cliques you were truly comfortable being part of. Neither did Jinyoung.
One day, your math teacher was rambling on about how perfectly he could draw a circle on a quadratic plane and you muttered some insult under your breathe because the man literally does anything but teach and in response you hear a chuckle from the boy sitting next to you. You looked over at him as he turned his attention from the teacher to you, still chuckling and hiding his smile with one of his hands.
Eye crinkles, how cute.
“Jinyoung. Nice to meet you.” He says with his hand now outstretched towards you. He was still smiling.
“Y/N, nice to meet you too.” You said, reaching for his hand and shaking it, giving him a slight nod and returning a grin.
“You know, he’s going to be like this all year, there’s no actual point in paying attention to any of the mundane things he says.” He shrugged his shoulders and smirked. And you laughed.
Ever since then, you were inseparable.
You knocked on the door of the apartment fervently.
“If you don’t open this door Park Jinyoung, I’ll actually kill you. It’s cold out here you jerk!” You shout, rubbing your unoccupied hand over your arms and trying to ignore the shivers running through your body. Soon the door opened and you run in before even looking up at the person who opened it.
I have a son. His name is Mieczyslaw Stilinski. But we call him Stiles. I remember. When Stiles was a little kid, he couldn’t say his first name. Not sure why, it pretty much rolls off the tongue, but uh… closest he could get was ‘mischief’.
Sheriff with the big reveal and BREAKING OUR HEARTS (Teen Wolf 6x08, Blitzkrieg)
Hey, I love your blog so much!!! I saw your written oneshots from requests (lams and hamlaf) and they were so good! Are you able to write a philidosia oneshot or is it too much? Thank you!
PHILIDOSIA IM SCREAMING YESSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS
Philip hated holidays where he didn’t get school off. It was always stupid. Valentines Day in general was stupid. First off, he was always sent to Aunt Peggy’s because is parents wanted to celebrate “romantically”, whatever that meant. He grumbled to himself, holding the paper bag of Valentines his mom made him write to his class, even bought candy he couldn’t have to put with it!
So yeah, Valentine’s Day was stupid. His teacher, Ms. Brooks, stood up, clapping her hands together happily. “Okay kids, now it’s time to put everyone’s Valentines in their boxes! When everyone’s done we can sit down and open them!”
Instantly everyone was up, Philip slowly climbing out of his seat, walking to each box quickly and putting the cards in them. He was the first one done, ignoring everyone talking and going back to sit in his seat.
Theodosia watched him as she put her cards in the boxes, frowning at how pouty her friend looked. When she had only a few cards left, she walked over to him, crossing her arms.
“Why are you upset?” He looked up, wiping his curls from his face.
“M not…” She rolled her eyes, standing the way Daddy said Mommy stood when she got annoyed with him.
“You’re pouting! That means you’re upset! It’s Valentimes Day Philly!” He scrunched his nose at the nickname, “You’re supposed to be happy.”
“M not supposed to be anything. And don’t call me Philly! ‘Sides, Valentimes Day is stupid.”
Theo gasped. “No it isn’t! Valentimes Day is a lovey day! You have a Valentime - and - and candy and flowers!” He pouted even more.
“Well, I never gots a Valentime, no one in the school is nice to me.” She stayed quiet for a moment, reaching her hand in her bag and rummaging around.
“Aha!” She pulled out his card, a few sizes bigger than the others she’s given out, a drawing of flowers on the front, bees buzzing around them, little lines showing where they’d flown. His name was written on the front, little hearts dotting the i’s.
“I’m nice to you!” She smiled, watching as he opened the card.
To Philly, Happy Valentimes Day! We should has a play date sooon! - Theo
P.S. I think you should bee happy!
She grinned wider, putting her hand back into her bag. “I gotta finish. Do you wanna bee my Valentime Philly?”
His face flushed red, freckles standing out more against the pink of his face, and he didn’t say anything, but nodded. She grinned, “Yay!”
~ ~ ~
Biting his knuckles, Philip huffed once more. Angelica rolled her eyes at her brother, “Philip, you two have been pinning after each other for like, ever. She’s going to say yes!”
“I know, it doesn’t make me any less nervous!”
“SHE’S COMING!” His littlest sister ran past him, screaming at the top of her lungs.
“Thanks!” He yelled back sarcastically, “Now that she knows something’s gonna happen…”
“Um, yeah, I am here.” Theo laughed a bit as she opened the door a bit wider, freezing when she saw the sign.
Since the day Philip and her were five, when they first agreed to be each other’s “Valentimes” forever, he’d saved the cards she’d made him. As he got older he felt it was odd, but his mom told him it was sweet.
Now, over eleven years of Valentines cards, Christmas cards, Birthday cards and randomly left notes, all hand done, all thought out with some kind of pun, he’d had over sixty saved. He had planned to throw some out, but as prom approached and he knew he wanted to ask her, Angie had given him an idea.
Carefully placed across a paper board, were all sixty seven cards, spelling out the word “Prom?” He’d done his best to add little drawings on the boarder, mimicking as best the drawings she’d done over the years.
His face was bright pink, hand gripping the end of his curls as he smiled at her, Angie and John holding the sign up. “Um, so? Besides being my Valentime, will you go to prom with me?”
Theo covered her mouth, looking at the sign. She recognized the cards she had given him, seeing little bee drawings bordering the sign.
“Oh my…Philip! This is - yes!” She nodded, for once, snarky responses were held off, as she was unsure how to express how happy she was, how cute she thought this was.
He grinned happily, all but catching her as she jumped into a hug, and behind her back, fist pumping. He was ecstatic!
Out of all the egos, Host would have Mark’s love for space. Even though he’s only seen a few pictures of it when he was the Author, he absolutely loves the idea of space. Something about an endless void seems to comfort him and keep him centered. He’ll remember the photos he’s seen and relish in all the colors space has to offer. Every once in a while, he’ll try to recreate a photo. He’s done this many times before, and Dr. Iplier usually walks in on Host making a colorful mess. Doctor will always find the Host painting at around midnight when he’s supposed to be sleeping. He’ll put Host back to bed then clean up the mess he made (He keeps every painting the Host makes and hangs them up in his office). When the Host wants to paint, he’ll ask for Oliver to bring him some paint and a canvas, then get to work. One time, Dr. Iplier walked in on Host making a masterpiece. The Host was simply fingerprinting with three colors: Blue, Purple, and White. He blindly swirled blue and purple together covering the entire canvas. The colors over layered, mixed, and stood side by side with each other. He reached the edge of the canvas and stopped. He lifted his hand and felt the canvas, making sure he covered every inch. He smiled and dipped his finger in the white paint. Swirling paint here and there, he dappled the canvas with stars. Doctor looked on with awe, watching as The Host tried to recreate his love for space. The Host stopped. He felt the canvas once more, mixing colors and making sure the paint was placed correctly. He stood back from his work, feeling satisfied, he walked off to wash his hands. Dr. Iplier walked forward, eyeing the piece Host had just made. The colors swirled naturally, as if the void of space had shaped it. The stars were painted on blindly, sometimes far apart, sometimes close enough that it looked like two stars colliding. Doctor heard footsteps behind him. He turned around to face the Host.
The Host smiled, “Are you going to hang that one up too?”