— ੭ black star with a obsessed girlfriend who wants to match with him
— ੭ starring :: b.star
— ੭ cw :: none
black starr notices it one morning before training. “…hold on.” you blink in confusion. “what?”
he grabs your wrist, ogling the stack of bracelets sliding down your arm. blue. black. silver.
little beads spelling “BLACK STAR” over and over in different colors. “…you got more?” “oh.” you smile like it’s obvious. “those? yeah.” you lift your other wrist. “these are the glow-in-the-dark ones.” silence. soul snorts from across the room. “no way.”
it starts becoming a running joke around the dwma. not because you’re embarrassing. because you seem genuinely proud of it. your necklace? a tiny silver pendant engraved with B.S. never comes off. no one has EVER seen it off. maka notices after weeks. “…do you sleep with that on?”
“yep.” “…shower?” “yep.” “…missions?” “it stays on.”
black star looks like he’s trying not to grin so hard his face splits.
then there’s your nails. blue. black. blue. black.
alternating perfectly. tsubaki raises an eyebrow.
“uh they’re cute.” your face brightens. “i’m matching with black star.” “…of course you are..” then one day.. you walk into class with a blue streak of hair, perfectly framing your face. black star freezes.
“…” “…” “you dyed your hair.” “mhm!” “…blue.”
“yepp!” “for me?” “well uh…” you shrug. “i thought it’d be cute.” he’s frozen in shock and adoration.
he stops moving completely. soul actually checks if he’s breathing. “it’s permanent?” black star finally asks. “yep.” “and you actually wanted to?”“obviously.” “…” he immediately turns around toward everyone else. “HEY!!” the hallway goes quiet. “my girlfriend’s so cool she literally changed her hair to match me because i’m awesome!” “black star!” you exclaim. “what? THEY NEED KNOW!” “they already know!”
they do.
because somehow this isn’t even the weirdest thing.
liz once catches you reorganizing your bag.
everything inside is blue and black. notebook. pens.
phone case. wallet. hair ties. water bottle. even your headphones. “you own another color?” “white.”
“do you use it?” “no.” patty gasps dramatically.
“she’s infected.”
even your lock screen is a picture of black star hooting and hollering dramatically at the sky.
he nearly cries when he sees it. “YOU HAVE ME AS YOUR WALLPAPER?!” “yeah?” “LET’S GOOOOOO!”
he changes his to a picture of the two of you less than five minutes later. the bracelets become an ongoing thing. every time you see one you like
you make another. leather. beaded. woven. braided.
metal. different fonts. different charms. it doesn’t matter. some say black star some say star. some just have little stars and blue beads. by the end of the semester… you’re wearing at least twelve.
“doesn’t that get heavy?” maka asks. “nah.”
you absentmindedly twist one around your wrist.
“i like hearing them jingle.” blackstar is over joyed.
even your phone contact for him is ridiculous.
⭐ MY STAR ⭐
the ringtone you have for him?? some recording of him yelling “I’M THE MAN WHO’LL SURPASS GOD!” soul nearly throws your phone out a window the first time it goes off during lunch. death the kid notices everything at once. “…” “the bracelets.” “yes.” “the necklace.” “…yes.” “the nails.” “…yes.” “the blue streak.” “yes.” “the matching shoes?” “yes.” “…” kid slowly looks over at blackstar “she appears to be your number one supporter.” blackstar throws an arm around your shoulders with the biggest grin imaginable. “THAT’S RIGHT!” you smile. “and improud of it .” one afternoon, ox asks the question everyone has been thinking. “why do you match him so much?” you don’t even hesitate. “i like loving people really loudly.” the room goes quiet. you shrug. “if i’m dating someone, i want them to know i’m very proud to be with them.” “so i choose wear things that remind me of him.” across the room, black star goes unusually quiet. for once, he isn’t shouting. (finally) he just walks over, takes your hand, and intertwines your fingers with his. “cool.” he smiles crookedly soul smirks. “you know she’s got you speechless when that’s all you’ve got.” black star scoffs, though the tips of his ears are unmistakably red. “tch. i just don’t need words.” he lifts your intertwined hands high enough for everyone to see. “they can already tell she’s mine.” you roll your eyes fondly. “and he’s absolutely impossible to miss.”
“damn right!” he laughs, squeezing your hand. “anyone who sees us knows we’re together, and honestly? thats exactly how i like it.”
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