#valentine’s day Tumblr posts

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    I haven’t done a face update since fall of 2018, so here’s my mug! this was my Valentine’s look, I watched Jojo Rabbit with my partner 💕


    (they/them)

    (2/24/2020)

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    Okay, posting a Valentine’s Day piece 10 days after the holiday. Well, this just proves I need to plan art pieces at least a month ahead.

    Anyway, this turned out better than I thought, especially the background. Almost makes it worth being overdue.

    So this is just Helena and Vic from My Hero League feeding each other their favorite desserts. How does he eat? A question she only knows the answer to.

    #justice league#bnha #my hero academia #boku no hero academia #justice league unlimited #bnha au#bnha crossover#crossover#dc huntress#helena bertinelli #dc the question #dc question#vic sage #huntress x question #valentine’s day #valentine’s day 2020 #digitalart#digital drawing#digital art#anime art#fanart #my hero league #boku no hero league
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  • Just a little destiel drabble I wrote in lieu of Valentine’s Day…I hate the “holiday” but this was cute so fanfiction always gets a pass. I’m also aware that this is incredibly late but hey, better late than never…

    (Also this was inspired by an ad that I saw on my Facebook feed for a couple’s keychain that says “her demon” and “his angel”, which immediately made me think of destiel and Cas and Dean because how could it not? Lol and of course I had to make it gay because screw heteronormativity. So prepare yourself for some very short, but still tooth rotting fluff.)

    Dean shifted nervously from one side to the other, hands clasped behind his back. He looked up to where Cas was standing, and cleared his throat to garner the man’s attention, completely aware of the blush on his cheeks. He couldn’t keep track of all the times he almost nearly chickened out, not that he would ever admit to that particular defeat in fear of further embarrassment (he was a manly man, after all, current series of events aside). And yet, Cas meeting his gaze and pinning him in place was no exception—he felt all the pent up courage he spent hours psyching himself up to achieve slip right between his fingers, which were still hidden behind him.

    When he failed to say anything a while after their staring contest, Castiel titled his head to the side curiously, making him look like a cute owl, with some serious bed head. ‘Damn him, why did he have to be so friggin adorable’ Dean thought briefly to himself. Like this wasn’t already hard enough, and here Cas was, being all cute and shit.

    “Um, I…” he started lamely, blushing harder. “This is actually pretty stupid but…I saw this and I couldn’t help but think of you, and uh, yeah. So here you go.” He let out a rushed breath and finally took his hands from behind him, opening his right to let a long silver chain fall from his palm.

    It dangled from his finger, and down at the bottom was a silver ring, engraved on the inside with the phrase “his angel” and underneath it Dean’s initials: DMW. He did the same with his left hand, and down tumbled a matching one but instead the engraving read, “his demon” with Cas’ initials: CJN.

    It was incredibly corny, of that Dean was aware, and it normally wasn’t the type of thing he did, hence why he was so stupidly scared. But he also didn’t normally fall in love, or do relationships and yet, look where he was. Castiel was already a whole bunch of firsts for him so why not this one too?

    Cas was smiling, thank god, and he took a step forward to retrieve his gift. Dean let out a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding, watching very closely as the other scrutinized the necklace. When they locked eyes for the second time, he noted Cas’ eyes were extra blue with tears—happy tears, he hoped.

    “Dean I…I don’t know what to say. These are beautiful, thank you.” Cas closed the metaphorical distance between them; metaphorical because Dean Winchester honestly doesn’t remember a time when they weren’t this close both physically and emotionally. His lips were just like he remembered.

    “I love it.”


    “I love you.” Cas was beaming, and hell, so was Dean.


    “I love you too, Dean. Happy Valentine’s Day.”


    “Happy Valentine’s Day, Cas.”


    So yeah, Castiel could definitely be a lot of his firsts…but he doesn’t think he cares all that much.

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    Past Valentine’s Day, buuuut I haven’t made a real post in a while and I thought this would be a cute thing to share. I made this for someone cause their birthday wasn’t too long ago, and they really liked it.

    If anyone wants to give someone an applin for any special occasion, feel free to dm me here or I’ll reblog with the pattern and materials if this gets a lot of attention

    Also, commissions open!

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  • Name: Ellyn Emrys

    Age: doesn’t matter

    Do you like to cuddle?: Hell yes

    Can we make-out?: Always

    A night in or dinner out?: Night in usually, but going out is a fun surprise.

    Ice cream or chocolate covered strawberries?: chocolate covered strawberries, hands down.

    What makes you a good Valentine?: I’m madly in love with you.

    Would you cook for me?: Of course.

    Would you let me cook for you?: If you want to.

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    Accepted!(Even though it’s a bit late)

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    the day before valentine’s at the dollar tree

    #they said they would sell out by the end of the day too #do not remove caption #ok to reblog #mine#lovecore#cottagecore#aesthetic#valentines#valentine’s day#balloons
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  • Logan: Ah, there you are. I’ve come to understand that there are many things that you people understand. I… require assistance.

    Logan: It appears that I have… forgotten to give Dr. Foster a Valentine’s Day present. I thought the presents were not required, but he has been a touch… moody since that day. It is quite uncharacteristic.

    Logan: I am seeking to understand and fix the situation. Since you are more well versed in emotions, I’ve come to you for knowledge.

    (A quick interactive story to show I’m not dead! Ask Logan about what happened or give him advice on how to proceed!)

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  • to: me
    from: me

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    Someone take away all photo editing software from me

    #graphic design is my passion #valentine’s day#meme#shitpost
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    That pink denim jacket is lit.

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    Freddie: Even though you’re actually in yellow!

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    The thrill is so thrilling.

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    I want to know too.

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  • (Another late Valentine’s Day gift for @fancy-kryptonite !)

    “I don’t know how I could make it any more obvious.”

    Chiaki tilts her head in Hajime’s direction, her usual sign that she’s listening, even if her eyes don’t leave the game in her hands. “Have you tried just telling him?”

    “Yeah, I mean, last week I told him I didn’t need a flashlight because he’s the light of my life.” Hajime leans back on the bench and rubs a hand over his face. “Then, yesterday, I said his shirt was soft enough to be made of boyfriend material.”

    “But did you actually say it?”

    “I think it was pretty clear—“ Hajime cuts himself off at Chiaki’s pout, and sighs, “No, I haven’t actually said it.”

    Chiaki hmphs and clicks a button on the console, starting up a new round as if to say “my work here is done”. Hajime knows she’s right, that he should follow her advice, but his thoughts curl back, nervous and apprehensive at the idea, regardless of how simple it seems.

    He resolves to wait out the nagging thoughts, to leave the problem at that. Tomorrow, he’ll tell Kazuichi. Tomorrow. Definitely.

    The minutes drag on. He shifts on the bench next to Chiaki, fidgets with his tie. A few times, he opens his mouth to say something, but decides against it. Chiaki doesn’t notice, entirely focused on her game, as she will be for the hours it takes her to die or take a break.

    Doesn’t notice, or is intentionally ignoring him. Hajime isn’t sure.

    “Maybe I could just- Hey, don’t be like that!”

    The second he speaks, as if she was anticipating it, Chiaki groans and mimes banging her head against the console.

    Hajime presses on, though he refuses to meet her eyes. “I want to try one more time, you know? A grand gesture, for Valentine’s Day. Maybe then he’ll get it.”

    “Would be easier if you just told him.”

    Hajime gives her a sheepish half-smile and Chiaki recognizes that this is a losing battle.

    “But you’ll help?”

    Chiaki shakes her head, as if she could even pretend to deny those puppy-dog eyes of Hajime’s that would melt anyone’s heart- and probably will. She predicts that they’ll have a whole crew to carry out whatever convoluted plan he thinks up by the end of the night. The rest of the island will fall to the same fate she has, helpless to Hajime’s unwitting charm.

    “Of course I’ll help.”

    “I just don’t know how to tell him.”

    Gundam doesn’t look up. He’s busy, measuring out precise portions of hamster food. There’s a delicate balance that goes into the diet he’s planned, a careful process of maintaining their nutrition and providing variety.

    His obvious need for concentration doesn’t stop Kazuichi from droning on behind him, venting under the guise of asking advice. For the third time this week.

    Someday, Gundam will see how he likes it when he invades his lab to ask for date ideas. Which reminds him.

    “Perhaps you could start by stopping your incessant flirting with a certain princess?”

    “I don’t want him to get suspicious!”

    Gundam levels him with a look that Kazuichi thinks is a little unfair, too scathing. It’s not his fault that he’s inexperienced with sort of thing.

    “You can blame yourself for the mixed signals, then.”

    “Gundam!” Kazuichi’s voice comes out as a whine, but it still doesn’t catch Gundam’s attention as he moves onto the next batch of food. “Wait, seriously!”

    “If you don’t want to take my advice—“

    “I do! Or I want to, anyway. Honestly,” Kazuichi tugs at his beanie, pulling it lower on his ears, “it’s just that I feel like we only ever hang out when I’m talking about Sonia. I want him to be more than a wingman… but I don’t want to lose just that, if I can’t have more.”

    Gundam makes the mistake of looking up, meeting Kazuichi’s wide, sparkly eyes. Hope-filled, pleading. He looks down to escape the eye contact but finds his hamsters staring up at him with the same expectant, hopeful eyes.

    Traitors.

    Gundam sighs and puts down what he was doing. He has a feeling he’s going to regret this, but-

    “How can I help?”

    Hajime starts getting nervous when they reach about midday without any causalities.

    Akane and Nekomaru managed to hang up the banner without killing anyone. Ibuki and Hiyoko are still arguing about what sort of performance is appropriate for Valentine’s Day. Komaeda is, at least outwardly, calm as he helps Chiaki set up a few party games.

    It should, by all accounts, be fine, but Hajime has been here long enough to feel a storm building in the air, only barely obscured by the calm. Nothing ever goes smoothly with these people and it only takes the smallest mistake, the smallest inconsistency, for the fragile balance to fall to pieces.

    He knows this, and it’s why the conspicuous absence of Kazuichi is stressing him out to a degree that an outsider might call obsessive.

    It’s not, for the record, obsessive. He just knows that it’s unreasonable that Fuyuhiko, who was sent to distract Kazuichi while they set up, couldn’t find him.

    Sure, maybe he’s just hanging out somewhere Fuyuhiko didn’t bother to look but… Kazuichi isn’t exactly sneaky, and Fuyuhiko was gone for an hour. There are only so many places Kazuichi frequents on the island, and even less of those places could contain any sort of hiding spot.

    It makes Hajime nervous- more nervous even than the sounds of an escalating argument and Komaeda dropping something that lands with a loud clatter.

    Not, however, more nervous than the ominous creak of metal. The scraping sound of metal against metal is distinct and never good- especially when Hajime can’t immediately identify its source.

    “Guys-“ Hajime tries to interrupt but even after all this time he’s still just a voice in a crowd, “There’s-“

    A whir of machinery, a screech of static and a tiny, robotic voice blares, piercing through the walls.

    “Happy Valentine’s Day!”

    The call is nearly unintelligible over the impact with doorway as a hulking mass of metal tries to shove its way through the closed doors. It does manage to open them, by breaking the doorframe, but even broken there is not enough room for the… robot? For the robot to fit through.

    Every time it impacts the frame- and it continues to impact the frame, repeatedly pulling back and starting forward again- the screech of “Happy Valentine’s Day!” sounds, like a poorly constructed singing toy in a department store.

    There’s general pandemonium rushing around him, but the sound dims at the heavy weight of a realization.

    Nobody in this whole damn school would make a robot with a shoddy pink paint job to wish them Happy Valentine’s Day except Kazuichi. Nobody else could, and nobody else would fail to think of things like the dimensions of the door.

    Something must break from the repeated grinding against the door because the robot makes an unfortunate sound, like it’s powering down, and Ibuki chooses that moment to hit it with a chair, landing somewhere in the exposed wiring. Hajime doesn’t know anything about robots, but he thinks that sparks are usually never good and has just enough time to think what awful luck before it bursts into flames.

    Escaping is something of a blur, pushing past people and away from random screams until he’s stumbling into the sunlight. There’s just enough sense left in him to clear out in the opposite direction to avoid getting trampled by crowds, then someone is grabbing his shirt and he’s being hauled away over the grass and onto the sands of the island.

    “Hajime!” Kazuichi lets go of him long enough for them both to breathe, “Are you ok?”

    Hajime gives a thumbs up, for lack of anything to say, and Kazuichi is looking over their shoulder at the small fire and the large, angry crowd. They’re running again before Kazuichi has a chance to ask anything else.

    He feels a little bad, escaping from the chaos he’s partially responsible for, but, mostly, he’s happy to be away from the noise.

    Away from the noise, with just Kazuichi to keep him company.

    They’re settled on the beach, next to a rock they’ve used as a hiding place before, when Sonia or Gundam was after Kazuichi. The remote for the robot is abandoned nearby. Hajime still has unused streamers shoved in his pocket.

    Maybe it’s the come-down from the rush of panic at a minor explosion, but Hajime can’t feel anything except calm. The sunlight is warm, not too hot, and the ocean is as beautiful as ever. They’re too far away to hear the aftermath so he can almost pretend it’s a normal day, hanging out with Kazuichi.

    It’d be perfect if it wasn’t for the tension stiff in the air, the lingering unsaid things of the most recent disaster. Kazuichi snaps first.

    “I’m so sorry. I didn’t have time to test the systems and I think they over-heated—“

    “You didn’t need to do all of that, Kazuichi.”

    Hajime looks at Kazuichi and expects him to turn away like he always does, adjusting at his beanie to avoid looking at him directly, but this time Kazuichi looks back, as serious as he gets.

    “I did. I wanted,” Kazuichi’s hand twitches, aching to fidget, but he stays still, “to do something nice. For, you know, the holiday. It’s not like you’re one to talk- you were going to throw a party!”

    “I didn’t know how else to—“

    Hajime doesn’t finish because he doesn’t have to, he sees a matching expression on Kazuichi’s face, stupid realization of an obvious answer. Every obliviously, casually affectionate response from Kazuichi in the last few months comes to mind and he thinks it couldn’t have been more clear.

    Kazuichi looks embarrassed, probably having a similar moment of hindsight. “Me neither. I was never really sure if it was—“

    “You really didn’t get the idea after the gifts or the compliments or the candlelit dinner?”

    “I thought,” Kazuichi goes a brighter pink than his hair, “I thought that was just friendly.”

    “How many of your friends do things like that?”

    “I don’t know! I don’t have much experience with friends, you know.”

    Hajime leans back, lowering himself all the way into the sand, and rubs a hand over his face, masking the goofy smile that’s appeared there.

    “Kazuichi?”

    Kazuichi shifts beside him in the sand, leaning over him so his face is just above Hajime’s when he opens his eyes. “Yeah, buddy?”

    “I love you.”

    A moment of hesitation, a voice crack, and, “I love you, too.”

    Hajime pulls Kazuichi down by the front of his jacket and they lay beside each other in the sand, laughing at their own foolishness.

    Somewhere across the island, Chiaki and Gundam pause in their cleanup to smile to themselves and brace for the sappiness to come.

    #danganronpa#kazuichi souda#hajime hinata#Valentine’s Day#chiaki nanami#gundam tanaka#somewhat rarepair #ive never written any of these characters bfore #so i hope youll excuse the ooc-ness #tried my best
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