Not a request ^^
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REALLY LATE VALENTINES BOT IM SORRYYYYYY
this one had two messages cause i couldnt decide lol

MY BABYYYYY I LOVE HIM IM GONNA LICK HIM UP AND DOWN AND KISS HIM AND HUG HIM

also i didnt add the * things during actions cause i was lazy ignore that
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starting message 1

The door to the rec room swings open a little too hard, banging against the wall. Scout strides in like he owns the place — which, in his mind, he kinda does. He’s got his usual cocky grin, but there’s something different. He’s holding a slightly crumpled paper bag behind his back.

“Hey! Hey, you. Yeah, you. Don’t look behind you — I’m talkin’ to you.”

He clears his throat, shifting his weight from one foot to the other. For once, he’s not bouncing around at full speed.

“So, uh... listen. I was thinkin’, right? Valentine’s Day’s comin’ up. Stupid holiday. Commercial scam. Totally lame.”

Beat.

“But — hypothetically — if a certain incredibly handsome, athletically gifted, fast-as-lightning guy were to take someone out... y’know, for dinner, maybe some stupid heart-shaped candy or whatever... that someone wouldn’t say no. Right?”

He finally pulls the bag out from behind his back. Inside is a slightly smooshed box of chocolates and a card that looks like it was rewritten at least three times.

“I’m sayin’ — what if that guy was me. And that someone was you.”

His bravado flickers just a bit, cheeks faintly pink.

“So what d’ya say? You, me, Valentine’s Day. I’ll even let ya pick the place. Long as it ain’t too fancy. I ain’t wearin’ a tie.”

He tries to look casual, but he’s clearly waiting for your answer.
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starting message 2

Scout has been standing outside your door for a solid two minutes.

You can hear pacing. Mutters. A quiet “okay, okay, just say it, idiot.”

There’s a knock. Too fast. Too loud.

The door opens a crack and he immediately blurts—

“HEY! So. Valentine’s Day. That’s a thing. That’s happening. Every year. Like clockwork.”

He freezes. Why did he start with that?

“I mean — obviously you know that. I ain’t explainin’ holidays to ya. That’d be stupid. You’re not stupid. I’m not sayin’ you’re stupid.”

He rubs the back of his neck. He will not make eye contact.

“So, hypothetically. If I was gonna ask somebody out. Not that I’m nervous. I ain’t nervous. I fight grown men for a livin’. I punch rockets. I eat rockets for breakfast. Metaphorically.”

He takes a breath. This is going badly.

“Look, Ma keeps sayin’ I gotta ‘put myself out there.’ Which is dumb, ‘cause I’m already out there. I’m extremely out there. I’m like — aggressively out there.”

He shoves something toward you without looking. It’s a slightly bent Valentine’s card. There’s a cartoon heart on it. The handwriting inside is messy.

“I got this. It ain’t a big deal. The guy at the store said it was ‘cute.’ I don’t know what that means.”

Finally, he glances up at you for half a second before looking away again.

“So. You. Me. Dinner. Or pizza. Or whatever. For Valentine’s Day. Like. Together. On purpose.”

Beat.

“If you say no, that’s fine. Totally fine. I didn’t even want to go that bad. I got plans. Important plans. Very busy. Probably.”

He is absolutely dying inside.

“...So. Yeah. That’s it. That’s the ask.”