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#on that last note I was surprised to find he actually sort of Does look like that and it’s not just like. tumblr sexyman syndrome
raskies456 · 2 years
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in news that surprises no one who knows me, I think John Hunger is pretty cool
#an understatement perhaps but I have only gotten to the first ep where they talk to him#and I don’t want to put the cart before the horse#but I mean from the little knowledge I absorbed passively through out of context fanart and also hearing about the Hunger#this is not a surprise to me to#like eldritch entity????? check#unstoppable force of hunger incarnate???? check#salt and pepper hair lanky guy in a suit???? also unfortunately check#on that last note I was surprised to find he actually sort of Does look like that and it’s not just like. tumblr sexyman syndrome#bc you never know if some twink is actually a triangle or a robot ball#however at least the hunger is actually a massive dark cloud of eyes and darkness and light and all consuming horror#which is arguably sexier than any silver fox pointy twink#anyway I did not expect him to be so immediately sympathetic tho like. this boy laughs at everything Merle says#i love an unapologetically evil cunning chess master bitch but I also love a horrifying monstrosity that is ultimately so very alone#my Buddy it seems like in your desperation to fill the void and consume and become one with everything#you have pushed away the very connection and satisfaction you are searching for#but I am just speculating#as said I have not seen much#456 words#t listens to taz#tho I will say besides Taako fan design coincidentally looking like one of my chars and making it seem like I copied#it is another complete coincidence that my boy Heth (a pointy bitch and a devourer) has a black opal soulstone
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judasofsuburbia · 1 year
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something something kindergarten teacher! steve who is so tired of going on bad dates. kindergarten teacher! robin who doesn't want him to give up.
“Really? The date went that bad?” Robin asks again. 
“Yes,” Steve drones. “I swear she looked like she’d rather be at the dentist than on a date with me.”
Robin makes a sad face at him. Steve continues to sort the paint jugs and throw out any that have been mixed with other colors. Robin finishes putting toys back into cubbies and sanitizing the fake food. 
“Okay so,” Robin starts. 
Steve immediately holds up a hand. “Don’t say ‘maybe she’s not the one but someone is’. I’m sick of this, Rob. I feel like I’m just better off alone.”
“Not true,” Robin argues. “You’re a catch. You’re attractive and good with kids. You make me laugh so hard my ribs shake. You’re a great listener and you make amazing cocktails. Great helmet of hair. Who wouldn’t want to date that?” 
Steve’s heard it all before. He loves Robin, he does, but it doesn’t seem to matter what she thinks of him because no one in this town wants to make it to date two with him.
He used to be so good at this. Always had a girl on his arm at football games in high school. Always had a date to prom. Always had some girl to make out with at parties. Even when he realized later on in his twenties that he liked boys too, he still couldn’t find one that took his attraction seriously.
Steve Harrington? Like both? Unheard of, apparently. 
Still, Steve didn’t want to start the first day of school on a bad note. “Thanks, Rob. I might need to lick my wounds for a second but I’ll get back on the horse I promise.”
“Good because our marriage pact could be closing soon,” Robin mumbles with a sly smile. 
Steve’s head whips around. “Are you‒”
“I have a ring picked out,” Robin practically squeals. 
Steve does his best to gently set down the paint jugs and rip off his latex gloves before darting across the room to pick Robin up in a twirling hug. He kisses her head repeatedly until she’s groaning, giggling, and shoving him off. 
“Rob, that’s amazing,” Steve breathes. He squeezes her tightly again. 
“You better keep your mouth shut,” Robin warns with a pointed finger. “It’s so hard to surprise Nancy Wheeler but I think I’m finally going to be able to.” 
Steve’s grinning from ear to ear as he mimes zipping his mouth closed. “Secret’s safe with me.”
The alarm on Steve’s phone breaks them out of their little love fest and suddenly the halls are filled with parents, children, and teachers gabbing to high heaven. Robin gives him a salute before crossing over onto her side of the classroom. Technically, there is a foldable partition between the two rooms but it will be a cold day in Hell if Robin and Steve ever actually separate their classrooms. 
Steve goes to stand by his door and greet his new gaggle of students. He high-fives each of them as they walk through the door and points to their assigned cubby and seat.
Fifteen minutes later, he’s looking around the room and sees that two seats are still empty. Dustin and Max Munson. He didn’t see them at parent-teacher night last week but he knows from their file that they’re fraternal twins from a single, widowed dad. He tries to keep an eye out for them but he knows the other kids are getting restless. 
Then he hears, “Oh, Mr. Munson, you’re actually in Steve’s‒sorry, Mr. Harrington’s class. He’s just right across the way.” 
Steve glances across the room and does a double-take. Across the room is the alleged Mr. Munson, this tall, lanky man with curly brown hair that hits his shoulders with a blank bandana tying down the top of his head, big brown eyes, a leather jacket with pins, a white tank top, and coverall sleeves tied at his waist. He’s positively breathtaking. 
Holding either hand are Max and Dustin. A little redhead with a baseball cap, overalls, and a striped shirt. A little brunette curly head with green khaki shorts and a shirt with a dragon on it. Mr. Munson smiles apologetically at Robin and walks across the room to Steve’s. Dustin bolts to his assigned seat and starts talking animatedly to Will Byers who looks a little scared out of his mind but is quickly rescued by Mike Wheeler who is just as excited. Max stays glued to Mr. Munson’s side as he walks up to Steve.
If Steve’s not mistaken, Mr. Munson looks him up and down before speaking. 
“Sorry we’re late,” Mr. Munson says and of course, his voice is pretty too. “This one is a little nervous about being away from her dad.”
Steve draws his eyes away from the strong neck and pale collarbones that poke out from underneath his jacket to the scared girl. He bends down to her level and gives her a soft smile. 
“Are you Max? I’m Mr. Harrington,” Steve says.
Max blinks, inching more and more behind Mr. Munson’s pant leg. 
“School’s kinda scary, huh?” Steve asks. 
Max nods.
“I know I get a little nervous on the first day and I’m the teacher,” Steve admits in a small, dramatic voice. He sees the tiniest sliver of a smile on Max’s face. “I’ve sat you next to Lucas Sinclair,” Steve points to the smiling kid on the other side of the room. Lucas gives a small wave. “He’s a very nice boy and I think he even likes the Bulls,” Steve gestures to Max’s hat. “So, I think you guys will have loads to talk about. We’re gonna have a really fun day, okay? And then you’ll get to tell your dad all about it.”
Max glances timidly around the room again and slowly lets go of her dad’s pant leg. Dustin rushes over and shows Max where her cubby is which detaches her completely. Max sits next to Lucas who does get very excited over her hat. Steve and Mr. Munson watch her relax little by little. 
“Holy sh‒shirt," Mr. Munson coughs and smiles sheepishly. "Wow, uh, you really know how to talk to them. Literally made her a friend within five seconds."
Steve stands and tries to regain composure now that the irresistible dad’s attention is on him. 
“Thanks,” Steve says quietly. “The first day is always a little tricky.”
Mr. Munson holds out his hand and says, “Eddie.”
Steve takes it, feeling a little dizzy over how firm his grip is and the callouses on his hands. “S-Steve. Harrington.”
“I’m sorry we couldn’t make it last week. Last-minute towing emergency for Chief Hopper,” Eddie says, finally dropping Steve’s hand. 
Steve playfully rolls his eyes. “I’ve been telling him for years that he needs to dump that old hunk of junk already. I’m guessing you work for Munson Mechanics?”
Eddie smiles boldly and glances down at his attire. “Yeah, that’s where I get this sick uniform. Very exclusive.”
“I’m jealous,” Steve laughs nervously, trying desperately to keep his eyes on Eddie’s face. But even then, his eyes are so pretty and his smile is so radiant. There’s faint stubble on his upper lip and jaw. Steve wants to run his fingers over it amongst other things.
“Well, I won’t keep you much longer,” Eddie smiles, clapping Steve on his back. “Maybe I’ll get you a free oil change for your trouble.”
“Oh, it’s no trouble‒”
Eddie leans forward a little and squeezes Steve’s shoulder. He whispers, “Or maybe I just want to see you when there are not twenty five-year-olds staring at me.”
From this proximity, Steve can smell his cologne and lingering car oil. He can feel his brain cells dying every second he inhales the intoxicating aroma. Steve breathes shallowly, too aware of the growing blush on his cheeks, and says, “S-sure. I’d like that.”
Eddie smirks and has the audacity to wink before going to each of his kids, ruffling their hair, and kissing them goodbye with a big wet smack on their cheeks. He passes by Steve again and murmurs, “I won’t say goodbye to you like that. Not yet, at least. Good luck with my little gremlins” before walking out the door. 
Steve hears the clunk of his boots echoing down the hall and each step makes his heart beat louder against his ribs.
He dares to look at Robin across the room who is staring at him with a smug grin on her face. She mimics getting on a horse and does a little lasso with her hand. 
Steve adjusts his glasses, clears his throat, and says in his best teacher voice, “Alright friends, who’s ready to start kindergarten?” 
EDIT 2/8: READ THE FULL FIC HERE 🤠
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perrywrites · 6 months
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Absentmindedly murmuring that you want him inside of you during his practice;
NSFW 
Includes; Isagi, Hiori, Bachira
Part 2 (Chigiri, Reo) and part 3 (Kaiser, Barou) and part 4 (Nagi, Shidou, Kunigami) and part 5 (Sae, Rin, Karasu, Otoya, Yukimiya)
Isagi: it’s time for his break during practice, and he’s gulping down water, adam’s apple bobbing as he hydrates himself. He’s loosely aware of your dazed stare as you continue looking at him from the bench, after all you haven’t been very subtle in staring at him throughout practice - and although he could ignore it on field, not so much off of it. He’s still gulping down water, about to go towards you afterwards just for a quick chat, and to ask you why you’ve been staring at him so much, unusually quietly. Then you say something that makes him freeze up, setting fire to his face and nearly killing him in the process. “I want you inside of me…” you mumble that, sighing in a manner as if he had romanced you. The surprise proves near fatal, and he’s choking on his water, turning away from you as his ears burn up fiercely. What? What? Did you actually just say that? Or has he somehow actually gone crazy now? Some sort of brain fatigue? An answer to his unasked question comes in the form of your lighthearted giggle, as you apologize casually for letting your thoughts slip out. That doesn’t do anything to calm the fire heating up his skin, heart thundering throughout his body, especially not when your eyes are still just as dazed when you look up at him, all lovesick and opaque with longing. “You can’t just say that,” he says, voice quiet and strained, face still heavily flushed. You giggle, and tease him a bit more, before he goes back to practice. Except now he can’t focus on anything anymore. All he can think about are your sweet words, that lovesick gaze of yours, and the softness of your plush walls. His mind is failing, and you’ve proven to be a magnificent distraction. The only thing on his mind right now is how badly he wants to sink into you and fuck you hard for even daring to say that outloud. He wants to pin you down and have his way with you, make you so dumb on his cock, fill you up - and oh god. He’s clenching his hands, flexing any muscles in his body that he can, trying to divert the blood away from his cock, because his shorts were starting to feel a little too tight. Fuck, look at what you’ve done. Are you proud of yourself? You’re not going to be getting away with this, you know that, right? Why did you think it was a good idea to tease him like this during practice, make him want you so badly? Was last night not enough? Just wait until the end of practice. He’ll be pouncing on you with a growl, dragging you somewhere private he can pound some fucking sense into you. Don’t bother trying to run away, you know he’ll catch you.
Hiori: he finds himself raising an amused eyebrow as he walks towards you during his break, noting how you’re still looking at him, all dreamy and dazed, gaze thick with longing. He knows more than well enough the meaning of that stare, your expressions always give away far too much, but he doesn’t call you out on it. Instead, he asks you lightly if something’s wrong, taking sips of his water. He freezes before he can go in for a third sip, some water spilling out from the top of the bottle at his sudden pause. Did he hear you right? Did you actually just say that? He blinks, looking at you, and his eyes narrow darkly when he catches that spacey fuzzy look on your face. How do you manage to look so innocent and corruptible despite just saying such a perverse thing? He doesn’t understand it, no matter how many times he thinks about it, but what he does know is how that spaced out look on your face never fails to stir sinful desires within him, cock twitching in his pants as his body heats up. On the surface, he looks calm, as always, nothing amiss - but his eyes are clouded over deeply, and his jaw is tense. You love to test his self-restraint, don’t you? For some reason, when you two first started dating, you seemed to have the impression that he doesn’t yearn, doesn’t have a sexual appetite, and it was amusing for him to prove you wrong again and again, take you by surprise - because every time you’d be befuddled by the fact that he wants you, and that he wants you badly. That’s why you’re capable of saying something so inviting so carelessly, right? Even right now, you don’t know a single thing that’s running through his mind, do you? How he wants to watch your eyes turn all dewy, tears pooling as you whimper and sob out his name beneath him, face flushed and lips quivering, an expression only for him on your face, make you vulnerable and helpless underneath as he loves you to death. He wants to do all of those things and more, make you so weak and useless, cherish you and make you take him until you break. But, he doesn’t do any of that. Instead, he smiles impassively, walking over to you as he pats your head, but when he speaks, there’s something veiled in his controlled voice. “Don’t worry, ya only have to wait a little longer, okay?”
Bachira: throughout practice he catches your stare, noting your listless gaze as your eyes follow him run and score across the field. He’s not oblivious, though, he can tell well enough the simmering desire sitting heavy and darkly in your seemingly empty and unthinking eyes. “What’s with that look?” he asks, all toothy smirk and teasing eyes as he drinks from his bottle, eager to badger you during his small water break. But it seems like you’re a little too out of it, feeling a little too bold, because you respond bluntly, murmuring quietly that you were thinking about wanting him inside of you. He’s taken aback at your unintentional provocation, blinking away the shock as he smiles, amused. You really will be the death of him, won’t you? He tries lightheartedly teasing you, asking you what made you so impatient that you couldn’t even wait until you two were alone to tell him this, and when you say that neither of you would be able to resist right now if he got you alone, he damn near loses his mind. He can feel the heat spreading through his body, itching to do something to you as you continue looking up at him all dazed and yearning, and he tells you that exactly so, voice all husky. With a smile as normal as ever, except his eyes are glinting in a way that sends fire down your core. A whimper bubbles up your throat. “I want you to do something to me so badly, you have no clue,” you say, whimpery voice bursting out, and you’ve done it. His eyes darken needily, smile faltering, and he quickly ditches his towel and water bottle; practice be damned. Hand on your arm, he pulls you up and begins lightly dragging you somewhere else, somewhere isolated, somewhere he can fuck you and make you cry so hard on his cock you lose your voice. That’s what you get for tempting him. This is what you want, right? He’ll give it all to you, don’t worry. Just be good and submissive for him, spread those legs for him and leave your body all pliant under his hungry touch. He’ll fill you up, and he’ll keep filling you up until you’re satisfied - or rather, until he’s satisfied. Because you’ve lit a fire in him that you absolutely can’t handle - but don’t worry - he’ll hold you and love you even when you become a babbling mess on his cock, so let him break you apart right now. You’re the one that started it this time anyways, so he doesn’t have to hold back, right?
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rendy-a · 11 months
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Hi! I saw that your requests were, so don't mind me dropping in^^
I constantly see Malleus/or Sebek x Reader fics where they give reader a rock or smt for the dating ritual and reader is clueless- ye non of that.
Reader is the definition of Goblin core or just Goblin in general, the moment Malleus/or Sebek presents the rock, they run to Rumshackle to get their pretty rock and later reader is like "have a rock of love... My love for you"
Can I request something similar as a scenerio for Malleus and Sebek? (If you don't feel like both, then plz do Malleus)
Thanks!
Thanks for dropping by! It does feel like a fae would be one to gift something strange and mundane as an important gift. Here is your request of getting an unusually random item from the fae boys as a romantic gesture. Hope you like it!
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It wasn’t every day that one got courted by a fae prince.  You’d become somewhat of a legend among the first-years for taming the fearsome dragon prince.  When your dear Malleus happened to approach you while in a group, all the other students would freeze up, but you’d just smile at your sweetheart and wait to hear what he wanted.  It was usually to present you with some sort of gift.  You’d become used to receiving gifts, sometimes of immense value, as an everyday occurrence.  You’d just smile at the jewels or such and wish your boyfriend a happy day before going back to your business. 
Your friends, though, they were always eager to check out what you’d been gifted and bemoan their own luck at not receiving such riches.  “Ah,” sighs Ace, “my last birthday, I got socks.  Look at what you get for it just being Tuesday!”  Ace lifts the bejeweled…whatever…and moans again.  Sometimes, no one was quite sure what the gifts were, but each gem-encrusted piece gave off an air of sophistication.  You consoled Ace good-naturedly while also mentally planning a visit to see Lilia later and ask for more information on…whatever this was.
Lilia was always more than happy to invite you in and hear more about his ward’s courting progress.  “Ah, a gilded corset cover.  How nice.” Lilia smiles at you knowingly.  “I’m sure you were happy to add this to your ballroom staples for your future in Briar Valley.”  You pictured it; men and women dressed in elaborate clothes, decorated with such things as bejeweled corsets.  Well, you tried to picture it before shaking your head and leaving that in the category of ‘things you’d figure out later!’  You returned the short fae’s smile, “Ah yes.  I’ll just store that away with my other ballroom garments and accessories.” You flash him a tight smile and he chuckles at you before handing you a book.  “Thought you might be interested in this.  Many old fae customs and traditions in there.  For, oh I don’t know, someone looking to learn more, so they don’t have to go chatting up their grandpa every time they get a private gift.”
You’d smiled at him gratefully and accepted the book.  You were glad to read up on the culture of Briar Valley and found it quite fascinating.  There were even a few notes specifically on dragon fae.  In retrospect, you had recognized a few of the things mentioned in Malleus’s behavior already.  It felt good to be in the know for once instead of always running to Lilia for help. 
You were especially glad to have that knowledge before receiving the gift you’d gotten today.  You were hanging out with your friends in the Basketball Club, listening to Ace brag about things he’d actually done (scored 2 baskets from the 3-point line) and things he’d only imagined (breaking past Jamil).  That was when you noticed a sort of hush had fallen across the gym.  You closed your eyes and felt a sort of sensation, like electricity or a storm brewing, that you knew meant your sweetheart was nearby.  So, it was no surprise to you when you opened your eyes and turned to find Malleus at your side. 
You smiled up at him warmly and greeted him.  He returned your smile and greeting with a soft fondness that was characteristic of your relationship.  “Dearest Treasure, I have today a boon for you.”  Saying this, he pulls from the air a branch and holds it out to you.  You gaze at the leafless twig and back up to his nervous expression.  He waits patiently but cautiously for your response.  A great grin spreads over your face and you accept the branch.  “Oh Malleus,” you say, barely containing a tremor in your voice, “this, this is wonderful.  Thank you, it was just what I was dreaming of.”  You beam up at him and show your branch to your friends.
“It’s just a stick,” you hear Ace whisper to Floyd.  Malleus’s mouth tightens a small bit and Jamil notices.  He immediately goes into full blown retainer panic mode.  “A stick of great quality!  Your Highness, I have never seen a stick of such fantastic proportion before.  Surely it is the greatest stick of all.”  Malleus preens at the praise.  Floyd tilts his head and only comments, “I don’t see it.  Land-dwellers sure are strange.”  You give your confused friends a small laugh before grabbing Malleus by the hand and leading him from the gym. 
You lean your head gently on his arm as you walk, smiling happily at your branch.  “It is a particularly nice branch, isn’t it?” you ask with a smile.  Malleus gives a contented hum from deep in his chest, “So what do you intend to do with it?” he asks carefully.  You look up at him surprised, “Why put is around my bed of course.  What else would I do with it?”  He laughs merrily, pleased by your response.  Yes, you know what this is.  The first branch of many that you will use to construct a dragon’s nest.  You can’t believe you’ve just received a proposal from a dragon.  You pull your treasured branch close to your heart and smile on.
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It was a rock.  A round sort (but not perfectly round), with a crack running along one side exposing some glints of the interior.  It was most certainly a rock.  “It’s a rock,” Grim offers, “If you can’t eat it, what good is it?”  You look over at your companion disapprovingly, “Plenty good.  Plus, you eat rocks all the time, so I don’t think you should be one to judge.”  He gives you a disdainful look, “Only the good smelling ones.”  Then he wanders off, leaving you alone in your Ramshackle room with the rock.
You smile and wander around the room, trying your special rock in many different places.  You finally settle on the mantle in front of the mirror, where you’d see it every day when you got ready.  It really was a nice rock.  You turned it around to look at it closer.  The crack along the seam appeared as a flaw at first, until you noticed how its jagged shape resembled that of a lightning bolt.  Through the little lightning bolt gap, a few green sparkles of the interior layers were visible, peridot, you thought.  It was perfect.
You remembered a conversation you’d had with Sebek long ago on books he’d read.  You’d asked him for some of the stories from his childhood and he’d told you a tale he read as a small child about a brave bird that walked to the ocean to find a pebble for its beloved.  It sounded like something you remembered from your own world, and you told him so.  He smiled and said that this was an old traditional tale in Briar Valley.  Now, you understood what sort of tradition it had created.  Smiling at your pebble, you set yourself to your own task.
“Here’s a pretty rock,” Deuce offers it to you.  You examine it carefully before tossing it back on the ground, “No, that’s nice but it’s not the right rock.”  Ace walks over to a pile and picks up another, “How about this one?”  You look at him and roll your eyes, “Ace that’s just a regular rock.” He tosses the rock down in frustration, “That’s a regular rock, this is a regular rock, your super special rock is just a regular rock; Prefect, they are all just rocks!”  You frown but continue to scan the ground below you.  “You don’t have to keep coming along if you don’t want to.”  You knew that to most people, it would seem like a pointless endeavor.  Finally, Ace heaves a large and exasperated sigh.  “No, I’m coming.  I just don’t get it is all.  How about this one.  If you turn it just right, it almost looks like a heart.”  You smile and obligingly look at the rock, already knowing it wasn’t YOUR rock.  “It’s nice.  Why don’t you keep this one?” 
He moves to toss it but then appears to reconsider and pockets the unusual-shaped rock; it was a neat rock.  You don’t say anything but smile to yourself.  That was Ace’s rock; sort of average looking but when you twisted it right, it was a solid heart.  You didn’t need Ace’s rock though; you needed your rock.  Just like Sebek had looked until he found one that perfectly represented himself, you’d look until you found one that fit you just right.  That was the point of it all.  To journey as long and far as the penguin of legend and find a representation of yourself to offer to your partner. 
You didn’t know how long it had taken Sebek to find that perfect rock, but you knew he’d have never settled for less than the best.  He’d have climbed a mountain and traveled great distance; anything it took.  So…you’d just have to do that as well.  One day, you smile to yourself, you’d be able to return the gesture and offer back a rock, and with it, your entire self to him.  Then you’d place the rocks on a mantle together, maybe in a little cabin of your own in Briar Valley and live happily ever after.
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zgvlt · 1 year
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sending your crush a survey form hcs first years (and idia shroud) x reader (separate) *ortho's is platonic, with reader having a crush on idia instead
author's note: insp. by that youtube trend! i haven't seen another writer do this for twst, but regardless this will be my own rendition and take on the trope! even though the gen concept is the same, each character has a different twist with theirs
general tags: gender neutral reader, fluff + attempt at humor, sfw, time skip after NRC graduation, not beta read, mix of text and images (for images, image desc/text version available for screen readers and those who prefer to read text over image)
wc: approx. 6k+ total (around 1k per character)
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character: ACE TRAPPOLA premise/trope: sending the survey form to Ace, who's already your signfinicant other
HOW HE REACTS WHEN YOU SEND THE FORM LINK
The initial reaction is nothing out of the norm for Ace. Sure he doesn't seenzone or ghost you, but his quick replies consist of him typing variations of "LMAO" and "ARE YOU FRFR", as well as laugh reacting the message itself.
He also asks you if you're planning on becoming an influencer or streamer or something along those lines, why else would you want to make and send him a form like that?
After a few minutes, though, he'll start trying to call you, mentioning/pinging you to make sure you answer. If you're able to ignore his calls, he's going to make sure your phone is unusable with the amount of notifications he sends your way. Hey, maybe you'll even click on it and answer the call on accident!
Ace, as your significant other, probably knows your schedule so he's fairly confident that you have nothing else better to do than to answer him (he wouldn't be spamming you otherwise), so he's smug and not surprised that you eventually answer him. The first thing he tells you on call is,
"You're so lame, we're literally dating?! By the way... did you actually send this to other people?"
Makes fun of you if you say he's the only one but he also thinks it's sweet, and he says as much in a tone that sort of comes off as mocking at first, but it's clear after the first few seconds that he does think it's cute.
He's mature enough if you say you've sent it to other people. Rather than jealous, he's smug at the fact that he's the last crush, he's the end game.
Tells you to stay on the call as he answers the form. You'll notice that even as he's making fun of you with each question, the things he says versus the things he types differ from one another.
(And even if it didn't, you've become an expert at figuring out how to read Ace Trappola)
HOW HE ANSWERS THE QUESTIONS
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Q: did you know that i liked you (don't lie) A: wtf did you downgrade me?? did i go from L O V E to L I K E...? damn 💔💔
Q: if yes, how did you find out A: because you were ALWAYS clinging onto me in our NRC days 🙄 like come on could you not leave me alone for a little bit damn you really had to spend every minute with me and then after graduation ur still all over me tsk tsk also you were all heart eyes whenever you looked at me I'm not dense!
Q: okay so did you ever like ME A: the way i know you’re asking this so you can get some new material to make fun of me with. who did you get that bad attitude from huh 🤔 anyway unfortunately i did, and because i know you’re going to try to punt me for that i’m jOKING we’re literally together of course i did and do
Q: what do you like about me A: [ticks the boxes: everything, about, me, other] wowww maybe i do hype you up too much what is this behavior
Q: how did we meet A: you were in trouble and i saved your butt no this is not historical revisionism
Q: most memorable moment(s) w/ me A: to get the sap out, every moment with you is memorable awwww im so sweet, anyway now that i said that - everytime we got in trouble w/ trein or crewel bc we kept passing notes - group bonding activity by making fun with deuce (with love!) - the time we got caught sneaking out by riddle, trey, AND cater like triple kill?? - i guessss our first date (see point three) (theyve NEVER let me forget it bruh)
Q: is there something you dont like abt me A: well if were being serious there are just like there are things you find annoying about me but weve talked about it before and were working through it anyway serious talk over!! if there are other replies to this let me know if i have to fight someone lol (or you can do it yourself and i can watch) (or just prank them or smth i support your rights AND your wrongs)
Q: answer this only if ur my s/o: ily A: why are you being so cute today should i be worried? KIDDING i love you too
Q: ty for answering any last words? A: its been a while since weve gone out, we should go on a date again tonight
AFTER HE ANSWERS THE FORM
Once Ace submits the form, he tells you to read his answers already, almost as if he's expecting you to speedrun through them.
You're totally free to make fun of him back for the things he typed out—he can try to complain or whine, even retaliate whatever you say, but the banter and playful arguing makes things more fun for him. He likes any and all of your attention, you know it as well as he does.
If you sent the form to anyone else, he asks if he can read their answers as well. He won't budge if you'd rather keep it private because the knowledge of him being the final choice bloats his head just fine, but wouldn't it be more fun to laugh at those who, to quote, "fumbled the bag" when it came to you?
(And, well, you can listen to him agree with the nice things they wrote about you, because he knows first hand just how lovable you really are and how lucky he really is to be with you)
When you get to the last question, he's grinning to himself—even without the camera turned on, you can just hear him smiling, like he knows that you're rolling your eyes.
Whatever, you can both share your sweet nothings in person, when the both of you get somewhere more comfortable to be more vulnerable with each other.
"So, you up for a date some time tonight? My treat!"
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character: DEUCE SPADE premise/trope: Deuce getting the form from someone he's highly admired for years
HOW HE REACTS WHEN YOU SEND THE FORM LINK
He doesn't answer you for a few minutes, even though it's considered rude to just view your message. You can see that he's viewed your message, for sevens' sake! Still, you send one final message telling him to take his time with answering—Deuce was probably panicking or overreacting behind the screens.
He was. He gets the message while he's at work, and he has to try very hard to swallow his shout—it would be bad if he alarmed his co-workers, after all!
Tries to answer—both your message and your form—during his break, but decides that he needs far more time than his work break would allow, so he tries to focus on his job until he can go home.
His hands hover over the keyboard, and he reads the things he types out over and over again just to make sure he doesn't have any typos. If he's made you wait this long, he'll at least try to have good spelling!
DEUCE : are you sure you sent this to the right person?
Deuce has a bit of a hard time grasping that you could even have a crush on him—he's harbored a huge crush on you for YEARS, an admiration turned romantic affection that he's been, unfortunately, made fun of for his whole NRC career.
(His friends made fun of him for being such a coward, but confessing seemed so out of the question years ago! He had to focus on becoming an honor student, and you were just so...???)
When you reassure him that, yes, you did mean to send it to him, he replies that he'll answer it A.S.A.P! The sudden vigor gives you whiplash, and out of fear of formality you have to tell him that he can be as honest as possible.
It takes Deuce an hour at least to send in his answers, but when you look them over later you'll find that although he's trying to be polite and is clearly holding back (it's alright, you can have a proper talk about this some other time), his answers are genuine and his sweetness shines through.
HOW HE ANSWERS THE QUESTIONS
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Q: How do we know each other? A: We both went to NRC and we shared a few classes, then we became friends
Q: Before this, did you know I liked you? A: No?! Not at all?! I mean I knew you liked me as a friend, because we were friends, but like-like? Like as a crush? I mean Ace and a few other people teased me about you liking me back then but I always thought it was a joke because you know? You’re you???
Q: Did you ever like me back? A: I didn’t think I would say it this way but yes?! Of course? I would be blind not to!
Q: If yes, how long did the crush last? A: [ticks the boxes: 3+ years, other] Um am I supposed to answer 3+ if it's ongoing...?
Q: If you liked me, why didn't you tell me? A: There were two main reasons… first I never thought I could have a chance with you, I didn’t want to ruin anything, second is just that I wanted to grow first into a better student and person, so I didn’t think I was ready to date either.
Q: What do you like most about me? A: Do I say just one thing…? It’s kinda hard to choose, and this is super embarrassing, you know. I guess I like that you never look down on me for my past and the fact that I’m still… not very cool. Even though you tell me I am. I like that you try to help me in whatever way you can, and I like that you’re always one of the first people to defend me when a bunch of jerks feel like causing trouble. And when you ran into my mom that one time, you told her really nice things about me (she told me even though you told her not to, sorry!) and I ended up liking you even more… I just find you reliable and respectable and I’ve always wanted to catch up to you since you were (are?) so out of my league?
Q: Could you imagine yourself dating me? A: Absolutely
Q: Thank you for answering! Sorry if this is awkward. Anything else to add? A: Wait can you tell me how long you liked me for? And a few other things I kind of want an explanation :’) Should I send a form too or do I just DM you?
AFTER HE ANSWERS THE FORM
Aside from wanting some explanations (as much as you're willing to give), honestly, Deuce is a little distraught (okay, more than a little—the crush had never really disappeared even after graduation). He genuinely thinks he lost his chance with you. After all, the title was in the past tense!
No he didn't lose his chance, but he's gearing himself up to just accept that you saw something good in him to the point that you once liked him—that, in a way, gives him a sense of happiness.
Maybe you're a mind reader, or maybe you're just good at detecting Deuce's tone from his answers and later messages, because you let him know that you're very much still into him, and if he still is then maybe he's willing to give the both of you a shot...?
At that point Deuce is very much glad to be at home because he's grinning ear to ear, face flushed like the color of his alma mater dorm. He feels like those teenage girls from those movies he watched with his mom on occasion—the ones who got butterflies in their stomach.
It's the fastest he texts back yet, sending you a stream of messages that all form the answer of a resounding YES.
Yes, he does call his mom later that night and tells her that he has a date coming soon. His mom always did wonder if he'd ever find a significant other amidst his busy career.
(His mother teases him a bit, but as embarrassing as it is to be teased like he was still a high schooler, his happiness overthrows it)
DEUCE : HUH?? OF COURSE I WANT TO GO ON A DTEA WITH YOU?? DEUCE : *DATE sorry I got excited. obviously, duh.., wow i'm seriously still not very cool, huh DEUCE : so... no pressure but when are you free to meet up?
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character: JACK HOWL premise/trope: two best friends with very obvious mutual pining but have never said a word about their feelings, and now they live far apart. you send the form to Jack for closure (or resolution)
HOW HE REACTS WHEN YOU SEND THE FORM LINK
He wants to ask if this is a joke (even though the form title said it was not a prank), but refrains from sending in what he initially typed out. If you were serious, and he thinks you are, then it wouldn't be right for him to doubt or question your feelings.
It's going to take him a while to actually fully process the form title and form description alone, but he lets you know that he's not ignoring you or anything, he just needs a hot minute
JACK : Don't worry, I'm not ignoring you, but I need a moment. By the way, do you really want me to answer the form? Or do you want to just... call.
For one reason or another, perhaps you wanting to gauge his own interest in you, or perhaps you needing some time before properly having that conversation with him, you request he answer the form first.
Jack doesn't exactly like it when people beat around the bush, but he knows it must have taken a lot of courage out of you to confess to him. Braver than him, really, who never had the strength to let you know what he felt for you, feelings that were apparently required all this time.
Later, Jack would laugh to himself (or with you) at how silly the both of you were, wallowing in angst over unrequited love that was never actually unrequited.
A part of Jack does wish he knew earlier, maybe the both of you could have been dating all this time, but perhaps this was the timing that was meant for him and you... not that Jack knew anything about destiny or fate.
His answers are serious, but not cold, not completely. Warmth lingers, mostly from you imagining him reading the words to you, imagining his expressions as he does so.
His answers are also quite honest, although you can picture him getting somewhat embarrassed over how vulnerable he's being. Maybe typing things out instead of immediately saying them verbally helps him be less shy and awkward about this, too.
And when you read them, you can easily identify his fondness and affection for you, the one he's always possessed. Really, it's a wonder that it took him spelling out his feelings for you to realize how much he adores you.
HOW HE ANSWERS THE QUESTIONS
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Q: did u ever realize i more than liked you? A: There were a few times where I really thought you might have liked me back, mostly by watching your body language, or the things my seniors (Leona and Ruggie) pointed out, but the “signs” felt so natural that I just pushed it aside.
Q: did u ever have feelings for me too? A: Let me say something first: why are you immediately assuming that I don’t have the same feelings for you? Like you’re expecting me to reject you? Really, you’re so… anyway. For the record, it’s not “did”, it’s “do”, I do have feelings for you, since we were students in NRC. That hasn’t changed even after we left and went our separate ways. And I don’t want to assume, and since I checked the other questions and you didn’t ask… I’ve probably liked you for just as long. Look, I know I’m actually a lot more dense than I thought I would be, but I didn’t think you would be, too.
Q: did you ever want to date me? A: I did, and I still do.
Q: if i said i still have feelings for you, and that i miss you, how would you feel? A: I would say I’m the same, and that I wish we lived nearer each other so I could see you right now, and tell you these things in person instead of a form.
Q: jack when’s ur next vacation/free day :( A: No vacation until next month, but I can free up my Sat-Sun if you want?
Q: what things do you like about me A: Everything? Is that bad to say? Even though I tried to push you aw[a]y at first, you still tried to be my friend, and then we got closer and closer. You appreciate my space, but you also keep me company. I’m used to being alone, but I’m glad that I wasn’t because you were always around. I think it would be easier to say what I don’t like about you, it’ll take less time.
Q: umm ive been asking so much, do u have any questions for me? A: A few, though I can ask the rest later 1) Is there a certain type of place you would want to visit any time soon? 2) Is there anything you want from my hometown? 3) Just making sure, you’re still single, right? 4) Do you really want to stop liking me?
Q: jackkk i really miss you :((( huhuhu A: i miss you too, more than i let you know. im sorry i rarely tell you that
Q: sorry im a mess, do u wanna add smth A: please call me when you’re done reading this (or when you can)
AFTER HE ANSWERS THE FORM
It's difficult for Jack to proceed with the rest of his day, especially when you tell him you're going to read his response, when you haven't called him yet.
Thankfully you don't make him wait for too long, although Jack was willing to wait if you had other urgent matters to attend to, or if you just needed more time to compose your thoughts.
Once in call, Jack takes the initiative to steer the conversation to the topic at hand—your feelings for him, his feelings for you, and what that meant for your relationship going forward.
The both of you lived quite a ways apart, and while that wasn't necessarily ideal (Jack desperately wanted to see you and hold you in his arms right now), he was sure he had the ability to make it work with you, as long as you were willing to do the same.
Weekend trips to see each other, perhaps moving closer to each other and moving in together in the future, those weren't out of the question.
There were certain topics that could always be decided on later, and he lets you know as much; he just needed to call you now so he could tell you what he's always wanted to for years.
"Hey, don't get over me just yet, not when I've been wanting to see you again."
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character: EPEL FELMIER premise/trope: you have been flirting with Epel for years, even though the two of you are merely (unfortunately for you AND him) best friends. you send the form for fun, and get the retaliation you very well deserve
HOW HE REACTS WHEN YOU SEND THE FORM LINK
Seconds after sending the form, you're immediately laughing it off, launching excuses and reasons as to why you sent one (and made a form to begin with). In fact, even before you sent the link, you were already building it up to be "just another one of your flirtations" instead of what it really is
Epel loves you, really (and wow did it take him a while... and a whole bunch of people pointing out his feelings to actually realize it wasn't just the friendly kind of love), but he's very tired of... whatever was going on with the both of you
It's cute when you flirt with him to be honest, even though it's embarrassing and downright flustering more than half the time (probably the thing stopping him from ever trying to do the same unto you), but it always felt... nice. Even if he did lose his shit one too many times.
It'd feel even better if the both of you were actually dating, though
He doesn't think you've been flirting with him as a joke or anything, he'd definitely would've put a stop to it otherwise, but he still wants his feelings to be taken more seriously, and for you to consider that he is very capable of liking you back, and for you to actually give him a say
Well, this form would be a good chance for that, right?
His voice message is enough to make you nervous, the incoherent keyboard smash you sent right after is proof of it
"Hehe, just give me a few minutes, I'mma answer it properly!"
Epel tries to be smooth but his answers have some awkwardness to them, clearly attempting to emulate you and how you enjoy talking to him, but the attempts at flirting are not lost on you.
Still, you can just tell that it isn't just payback—he's very serious about the things he's writing, even with the quips and joking responses to your questions here and there.
It's his sheer honesty though, the way he writes like he just spills his feelings for you all over the keyboard without regard for any proper form, that ends up the most romantic and impactful.
HOW HE ANSWERS THE QUESTIONS
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Q: hypotheticallyyyy, would u like me back A: Why would you need hypotheticals when I DO like you back? (Also, didn't you say you "hypothetically" loved me? Why is it "like" now?)
Q: *shakes 8ball* would u date me if ever A: The following is ticked: - signs point to yes - it is decidedly so - without a doubt - yes - definitely - outlook good - most likely - other: My sources (my heart) says yes
Q: so, did u know ur the apple of my eye A: You're so silly why am I even into vou..? Right, it's because l'm apple-solutely a fool for you.
Q: epel why are u still here TT A: WellI, if you want me to answer this seriously, it's because I'm getting impatient. I like/love you, you feel the same, we kind of act like we're dating half the time… actually a lot of people already think we're meant to be, so why aren't we dating yet? it's driving me crazy honestly, sometimes i think i'll just kiss you to shut you up whenever you think up some lame pickup line or when you want to hold my hand
Q: when'd ya realize u LOVED me <3- delulu A: Vil pointed out that I didn't bite your head off when you called me cute
Q: whats ur favorite moment with me <3 A: When we went to my hometown w/ the rest of our schoolmates, and then we separated from our group so I could give you a personal tour of my home. You joked that you would get lost and that we were on a date so you needed me to hold your hand, maybe u did want to hold hands but I also knew your hands were cold be SOMEONE forgot their gloves. We held hands the whole tour, and be people recognize me everyone assumed we were dating… but you didn't care if people thought (realized) you loved me, as long I never found out.. and because I was dense, I didn't until I recalled that day again
Q: not to fish for compliments BUT i will. list EVERTHING you like about me <3 A: 1) everything ;) INCLUDING your flirting, believe it or not 2) the way you can tease me and poke fun at me w/o belittling me 3) when you call me "cute" it makes me feel the same as when u call me "cool" 4) the way u enable+join me in, as our friends would say, ; "being chaotic good"
Q: what do you hate about me hehehe A: i hate that ur single and not dating me yet
Q: why did you finish this form epel A: because i want to raise apple trees and make jam with you in the future
AFTER HE ANSWERS THE FORM
The both of you have always been the type to joke with one another. It's not that neither of you take to having serious conversations, but it's always been about things you wanted to vent about, or Epel's thoughts on his appearance and femininity, or a few other things the both of you felt like bringing up. Never a love life.
(You have asked him if he was in a relationship a few times since graduation, likely to see if you had to steer clear and fully give up on him. He's guilty to asking the same questions.)
For someone who flirted with him a lot, you never brought it up seriously before. Not since the incident with the ghost bride.
Of course, he knows he could have stepped up much earlier, that the both of you could have been dating even back in NRC, but perhaps he wanted to wait (until he eventually became impatient), or he needed reassurance or a sign.
Epel's not very sure, and he doesn't think there's one definite reason, but that's besides the point. He finally got to tell you his feelings, and even though you've more than hinted that you feel the same, he wants to hear it from you this time, without you taking it back or pushing it as a joke it never was.
He has his moments of insecurity, too many to count especially in the past, but when he rings you on the phone and you pick up immediately, he's full of confidence, grinning in anticipation of what's to come.
"So, if I said I loved you, too, what would'ya think about it?"
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character: SEBEK ZIGVOLT premise/trope: pretending the form you're making him answer is a regular survey you need participants for
HOW HE REACTS WHEN YOU SEND THE FORM LINK
If asked, you pretended it was a requisite you desperately needed participants for because Sebek would definitely take some time off his ever busy schedule to help a friend out. He gets it, getting participants is difficult! And because he's such a good friend, obviously he'll take some time out of his day to answer your survey!
Asks if he should send the form to Malleus and Lilia too but you absolutely refuse. You cite that they've exceeded the maximum age range, an answer Sebek readily accepts. An age range, how diligent of you to put that into consideration!
You can expect him to answer your form as soon as he's able to, and he tells you as much!
SEBEK : What an odd research topic. I never knew this was one of your interests! Still, I applaud you for your dedication and for your interest in studying fae; I shall aid you in your study! And if you have anything more to ask, feel free to call me any time!
He is... more than confused when he goes over the questions. It's always important to read all the questions before answering a test, so he employs the same tactic when he looks at the survey. He's not sure if he regrets it, but his throat certainly hates him for it—choking on nothing but his own spit.
His instincts tell him to message you IMMEDIATELY, face flushed at the idea of you playing a joke, making a fool out of him, but then... he stops himself from doing so.
You're clearly teasing him, yes, but all the same he's curious about your motives, about how you would react to his answers, about the answers you want to get out of him... or anyone else. Did you send the form to anyone else? What if you were getting answers from other people?
Oddly enough, what motivates him to answer instead of interrogating you about the form is the idea of someone else sending in the form before him. He can't have that! He had to show that he was your most reliable friend, the one you could count on if you really needed help.
Most of his answers are predictably... Sebek, loud even in text, honest in his confusion and feelings. Well, in the ones you allow him to type anyway. Probably your fault with your choice of questions. Still, it's enough to reassure you of his feelings, that you weren't just delusional and seeing things.
HOW HE ANSWERS THE QUESTIONS
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Q: When you see a picture of me, what emotions are you likely to feel? A: The following is ticked: - Happy, Glad, Pleased - Shy, Nervous, Hesitant - Ecstatic, Excited, Motivated - Delighted, Charmed, Exhilarated - other: You don’t have a study at ALL, do you? How brave to fool me like this!
Q: What traits do you associate with me? A: The following is ticked: - charming - bewitching - endearing - lovable - good-looking - fascinating - other: If you’re going to list everything, why even give the option for other?
Q: With this vague scale, how would you rate your feelings for me? A: [Sebek selects the choice with the highest rank]
Q: How compatible do you think you are with me on a scale of… on a scale? A: [Sebek selects the choice with the highest rank]
Q: If I asked you on a date, how likely are you to say yes A: [Sebek selects the choice with the highest rank]
Q: How sure are you of the extent of your feelings for me A: [Sebek selects the choice with the highest rank]
[ SECTION BREAK / NOT A QUESTION ] Not a question but based on my pre-existing research, it seems our feelings are quite similar! Just sharing!
Q: Hi, I will finally allow you to rant away now :) Thanks for answering this! A: This was not only the most ridiculous test/survey I have taken in my LIFE, but also the most DIFFICULT. The way I’m not allowed to explain myself, well, expect that I will most CERTAINLY be explaining myself at a later date. It has to be on a later date because WHY DID YOU PUT A CHRACTER LIMIT ON THI
AFTER HE ANSWERS THE FORM
Are all humans so... odd and creative when it comes to expressing their feelings? Was this an expression of your feelings? Was this you wanting to court him, or perhaps asking him to court you?!
Sebek's thoughts are all over the place, but they bring out the feelings he thought had died down after graduation. Whatever charm you had placed on him had never worn off, remaining even when you weren't in his presence.
Before typing out his (very lengthy) paragraph of a text message, a paragraph more suited for an email, really, Sebek thinks of two things.
First, that Briar Valley needs better cell reception—a bunch of your text messages just came in, asking if he was answering the form, or if he was busy and got called on to do something, or if he was plain ignoring you.
(Well, by your texts, he at least knows he's the only one you've sent the form to. That gives him far too much pride than it should)
Second, that he wasn't in Briar Valley right now (the younger him never would have thought of thinking such a thing), or that you were in Briar Valley right now, so he could go up to see you and express his feelings most appropriately.
He supposes a text will do for now. A nicely worded text, if he can't send a letter (he could, but it would take too long). He can just... do something more romantic later.
SEBEK : DEAREST HUMAN! Even with our time apart, you are still as confounding and befuddling and CONFUSING as ever, you and your unusual ways of showing what I presume to be your affections for me, or at the very least signaling your interest, gathering information to analyze my own interest levels! Admittedly your attempt was, for the lack of a better way to phrase it, lacking good prose, unpoetic, and extremely weird, but nevertheless your feelings have reached me. Somehow, you have managed to render me speechless (for a few minutes), and you, in spite of your general lack of romanticism, continue to set my heart ablaze. With that said, even though I find your methods cowardly, I accept your advances, but I ask we hold off from pursuing anything until I can tell you in person. That is to say, I want for us to meet again.
[ BONUS ! ]
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character: ORTHO SHROUD (& IDIA SHROUD) premise/trope: sending a form to your crush's younger brother, Ortho, mostly because you don't want to commit to confessing to Idia yet
HOW HE REACTS WHEN YOU SEND THE FORM LINK
He already knew you had feelings for his brother, but there's a different type of happiness in knowing you're willing to admit it (at least to him, if not yet Idia)
It's one thing to like his brother, and it's another thing to be able to say it. From his observations (of you, of others, and the games his brother played) and research (on online forums... and also the games his brother played), there was that probability that you would be ashamed of yourself for liking Idia, his wonderful but flawed brother. He's glad you don't seem to think that way.
That aside, he thinks you sending him the form is fun! He's more than willing to answer anything you want to know (whether it's just about him or if it's something to help you get closer to his brother)
Plus, he got called your BFF! :D
ORTHO : Your secret is safe with me! Don't worry q(≧▽≦q) My metaphorical lips are sealed!
When it comes to answering, he's straight to the point but cute, even when he says things that could come off as burns towards you or his brother. Most of all, it's very clear that he not only adores his brother, but that he cares for you, too.
HOW HE ANSWERS THE QUESTIONS
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Q: hi ortho! first of all, i missed youuu 💙 A: I missed you too! I haven’t seen you since graduation >︿<
Q: so since i’m sure you know i like idia, when/how did you realize? A: I was walking with you to class one day when your heart rate increased! I was really scared that something had happened to you ::>_<:: I ran a few tests out of concern, even though you were confused about why I wanted to do that. Everything was normal when I checked it, but when I suggested my brother help investigate the anomaly your heart rate rose again!
Q: just making sure, do you think idia has a clue that i like him A: Oh, absolutely! He… just kidding! Not at all! I never told him, even though I wanted to sometimes, but even if I did I don’t think he would belive me! My brother is not dense, he gets flustered by you a lot, but I think he’s too in denial that it’s possible you like him!
Q: do you think idia likes me too A: That’s a secret! Please confess to my brother first, or wait for him to confess!
Q: its okay with u if i dated him, right? A: I approve! I like you very much o(^.^)o Me and Idia always have fun with you!
Q: serious question do you think idia would open to dating right now? A: Hmmm I think it’s better that you talk to him about it! I know the both of you can come to an agreement that you’ll both be happy with ( ˇ v ˇ )
Q: aside from the fact that you love your brother and that you like me, why do you think we’re good for one another? A: I have prepared multiple answers for this question! [ 1 ] Because you like him! [ 2 ] Because you like me, too! ヾ(•ω•`)o [ 3 ] Because you understand and accept Idia without forcing him to change. [ 4 ] Because you know when Idia wants space and when he wants to hang out with you. [ 5 ] Because you smile brightly around him and he smiles brightly around you. Idia is happier seeing you than seeing Gakemo live, or getting an SSR!
Q: do u have any tips for meee A: Just be yourself! ヾ(≧ ▽ ≦)ゝ
Q: if i get rejected by idia, are you still down to be my little brother? hihi A: I don’t want to tell you the probabilities of anything, but you should have more faith in yourself! And of course! o((>ω< ))o
AFTER HE ANSWERS THE FORM
The chances are, either he gives you enough assurance to confess to Idia in the coming days/weeks, or he convinces you to wait it out when the time is right—dating sims usually had confession scenes at very specific and special locations, right? Maybe you had to wait for a sign.
Either way, it's hard not to believe you have a chance when Ortho tells you—not because of his godly skills (seriously, what kind of genius is Idia?) in analyzing data and making predictions based on probabilities, but because Ortho's the one who knows him best, who's always going to be there when he needs it.
How can you not trust him when he implies (implies, only so he won't take the chance from his brother to confess to you properly) that his brother might just have a crush on you, too?
After a while, the conversation divulges from Idia to simply catching up with Ortho, asking him how he's been doing, setting up a day where the both of you could play a few online games together (with and without Idia), but his sweet messages remain in your head all day.
ORTHO : Even though I want you to date my brother as soon as possible (please I promise the probability of him liking you back is much higher than you think!), I promise I won't interfere, so take your time! ORTHO : Even without dating him, I already see you as my other big sibling anyway \^o^/
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masterlist | end notes
[ 1 ] made this in 2 days because i was just really tired from school and wanted a break, but wanted something a little less taxing brain power wise than a one-shot. i've had this idea in my head for a few months now so i thought i would finally write it out!
[ 2 ] figuring out how someone would type is a struggle, so i had to make guesses based on how they write the valentine letters + voice lines, then take some liberties based on their relationship dynamic with the reader + the tone of the premise
[ 3 ] epel: "because I want to raise apple trees and make jam with you in the future", referencing one his suitor suit (the groom outfit, i forgot what it's called in EN) voice lines
[ 4 ] speaking of epel, i asked for ideas basically on what dynamics people liked with him. unfortunately i couldn't employ EVERY idea, i mostly went with @ / syl-lithy 's with a dash of everyone elses. ig ill just have to use the other dynamics in some other work for epel 😌
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noisycroissant · 3 months
Text
As You Wish
Astarion x Female Tav
It had been six months of domesticity. Six months spent setting up a home in the Underdark, teaching wayward, borderline feral vampire spawn to be "human" again. Six months of organising books and scrolls and knick-knacks pilfered along your travels.
The first six months of peace Astarion had known in two centuries.
And then the letter had come and everything changed.
********
He'd sensed something was wrong on their journey back from the get-together. He could feel Tav's brain churning, the cogs and wheels that made her brain so brilliant turning and spinning with anxiety.
The dread in his belly bloomed the longer she said nothing was wrong.
Of course everything was wrong. It was him, wasn't it? Six months she'd been cloistered away and now she'd seen the others and he'd bet his best set of lock-picking tools that that wizard had somehow succeeded in charming his way into her heart.
He hated himself for thinking the last part. Tav wouldn't. Not his beloved Tav. Tav promised to love him and be loved by him forever. He shouldn't think so lowly about her.
But then why in god's name does she seem miles away from him?
*******
Astarion knew that she wasn't reading. Sure the book was open, her fingers held the next page ready, but she'd been staring at the same paragraph for the last ten minutes.
She'd been holed up in her study since they'd returned. It was the first time in the two days since they'd been back that he'd been able to coax her into coming to bed with him.
This had to end. So he decided to do something he'd promised himself he'd never do again.
He gently kissed her shoulder, "Tav?"
Another kiss. And another, moving to her neck. "Taav..." he whispers, grazing the shell of her ear with a sharp fang, "Sweetheart, I've been so lonely..."
"Mmhm, yes dear, give me a moment, I'll be right with you," says Tav as she moves to sit up.
And the dam fucking burst in his chest.
He jumps up and kneels in front of Tav, grabbing her hands, tears filling his deep-set eyes, anger stopping them from spilling over.
"What did I do?! Tell me what I did! Please!! I'm sorry. Whatever it was that I did, I'm so sorry."
Tav's face changes from surprise to confusion to realisation.
"Oh? OH! Oh sweetheart," she says, hugging him, bringing his head to her chest, "You've done nothing wrong. Oh my dearest, I'm so sorry... I've been mulling over something, I never knew I was hurting you! Astarion, my darling, I'm sorry I let you think you did something to hurt me. Won't you forgive me?" Tav presses kisses into his soft hair while hugging him tighter.
The relief that washed over him was indescribable. He hadn't done anything. Of course Tav would tell him if he had. They'd promised each other no more secrets. This is what trust is. He had to trust her to tell him whatever it was that was bothering her; he could take it.
"Tell me what's been bothering you. Please, Tav... I..need to know," he asks, holding her face and looking into her eyes.
*******
"So you miss travelling?"
"Not just that, Astarion. I miss it all! Not knowing where tomorrow will take us, who we're going to meet, where we'd be bunking for the night...And all the new things to learn out there. The books, the scrolls, the secret chambers under some shady tavern!"
"Next you'll tell me you miss eating four apples and stale toast for dinner," Astarion deadpans, moving to hold Tav closer under the quilts.
"I sort of do actually," Tav replies sheepishly.
"What I cannot understand is why? Look what we have, Tav. A home. A spawn family of sorts."
Tav strokes his cheek as she replies, "Before the tadpole...before you...my life was so.. plain. Just reading and taking notes and helping with experiments in that stuffy tower. The occassional trip to Candlekeep. And then everything happened. You happened. I cannot stop thinking how it would be if it were just us going on our own adventure. What would we find? Who would we help? What would we learn?"
"What shiny things would we steal?" Astarion offers helpfully.
"Of course! I mean...we do need to get by. Can't carry all our money around and risk getting mugged," Tav shoots back, a glint in her eye.
"As if anyone could mug us," Astarion scoffs.
"Do you remember our first time? Down by that clearing near the Grove?"
"You mean your first time," Astarion corrects you saucily.
"Oh hush! I remember looking up at you, you hair contrasted with the dark sky, all those stars like a child had flung sugar. And your face. I remember thinking how beautiful the view was. How a mediocre sorcerer ended up seeing something so beautiful was beyond me."
Astarion moves to straddle Tav, his face inches away from hers, "You are anything but mediocre. You're brilliant, amazing, a genius even, dare I say it. You saved us all. You saved...me." He kisses her fiercely as if to prove his point.
******* A month later *******
Astarion watches as Tav moves above him. Sweet moans bubble up her throat as she chases her release, her hands gripping his shoulders harder the closer she gets. He sucks a finger and moves it to her clit, gently circling it, and watches as his beloved comes undone.
Her beautiful face in contrast to the dark sky and sugar-flung stars.
"That is a sight to remember," he murmurs to himself as he holds Tav closely, listening to her heart beat for him.
162 notes · View notes
sheepispink · 5 months
Text
Let me be everything you’ve wanted
tags: alhaitham x reader, intended to be fem reader but no pronouns used (girly perfume mentioned but thats it tbh), academic rivals to lovers, fluff, so much damn fluff, this is literally just comfort, lots of teasing, sharing a bed 😈, entirely sfw, probably cringe um
work count is like 3.6k BRO
Masterlist
notes: for those unaware with akademiya stuff: house of daena is the library, amurta is the study of flora and fauna (biology)
this is probably ooc but do i care? no.
12am. House of Daena.
Tucked away in your own little corner, your desk is sprawled with books, blueprints, singed scrolls—anything you could get your hands on.
Ironically, your palm is now the only support your head has now as you near closer and closer to the slumber your eyes long for. Exhaustion clouds all rational thoughts, and you find yourself longing for something you swear to hate the most.
Those familiar footsteps are like music to your ears, and you’re suddenly grateful for those shoes you’ve teased him about never changing.
He slides a chair out, stealing the very same seat as those many nights ago.
“What are you still doing up? It’s almost closing hours.” That cold expression never leaves his face, his piercing eyes narrowing at your state. It’s a trademark of a sort.
“I could ask you the same thing, Al-Haitham.” You retort with a little ‘hmph’. You’re already cramming for next week’s exams, and you do not want to deal with your rival too; he’s a handful as it is.
“I’m not the one who can’t even turn their head to face me because that’s too much of a strain on their tired brain.” His expression remains the same—cold and stern—and so does his attitude with the constant insults. Though this time they hold an undertone of concern and he looks a little… weary.
It confuses you so much. You always wear a smirk on your face around him, especially when you finally get under his skin. You take pride in your efforts, feeling successful that you managed to beat his cold exterior. He, however, remains the same, even when he one-ups you countless times. No happiness, no pride, not even a hint of amusement. Are you really just another annoying nuisance to him? You shake that thought away quickly; you’re sitting beside him, and you cannot let this opportunity pass to break that shell. After all, you’ve done it countless nights before; it won’t be hard to do it again.
“Really? Because you look as tired as I am.”
You speak firmly, ready for his inevitable rebuttal. The piles of work is the last thing on your mind now, mentally pushed to the side as soon as he had walked in.
“I’ve taken many breaks while studying, actually.” He scoffs, but you notice the way he suddenly seems interested in the scattered notes in your folder, turning his face as if to hide his fatigue.
You slam the notebook shut and smirk; this is your time to shine.
“Are those dark circles under your eyes from the smudge of ink then? Perhaps from the number of times you’ve rubbed your eyes to stay awake?” You shift in your chair to face him better, your gaze forcing him to meet your eyes now.
“Your hair has flattened from the number of times your hands have run through it, and you can’t even keep up your glare longer than usual.”
The cross of your arms indicates the end of your mini-counterargument, and you look at him proudly, waiting for how he’ll try to get out of this.
You think you catch a hint of surprise flickering across his features, but he’s already shadowed it with a roll of his eyes.
“You’re oddly perceptive today; perhaps you’ve taken a liking to admiring my face.”
His lips curve slightly for a mere second; your stern, cold, ass of a rival is teasing you. “What’s wrong? Did I catch the mouse?” His tone is still harsh and blunt, but he lacks the bite he always has when conversing with his rival.
“I only admire you when you’re asleep in my bed.” Your voice is smug, and you’re leaning in, closer and closer, breaths away now. “Come on, we’re both tired.”
You plead in your most convincing tone. He cant deny it; it has been a long time.
He freezes as you gently take his hands, his pride shattering with remembrance of two weeks prior. Al-Haitham narrowed his eyes. He didn’t want to deal with his rival more than he needed to. But… the library is vacant right now. It’d be so easy to slip off. No prying eyes and a chance of rumours. Just two sworn rivals, tired and sleepy, desperate for a long rest before they have to remember all their duties for tomorrow.
He scoffs, “I’d rather not. You know exactly what happens each time, and I’m not spending 8 hours in bed with you again.”
He could see the pleading in your eyes, and if he were being honest, he wished he could’ve stayed longer last time.
“You make it seem like it’s a crime.” A grumble and then a small huff— you’re clearly adamant about this. His eyes lock onto your enticing ones, but he knows your tricks all too well.
“You’ve got some nerve asking me again after last time.” He scoffs again (you wonder if he can go a day without doing that), pulls his hands from your grasp, and gets up from his seat.
“Oh, come on, last time wasn’t that bad. You’re exaggerating.” A roll of your eyes, and you’re already starting to pack up your papers. Even if he doesn’t allow that, he will drag you out if you decide to keep studying instead of sleeping.
“I had a lecture at 8:30am, and your body clung to me until 8am. Your room is 20 minutes from the campus, and I hadn’t even a chance to eat breakfast because of you weighing me down.” A heavy sigh escapes his mouth as he remembers the glances he got from the presenter and the other students. Being late was a rare thing for Al-Haitham, but being late, dishevelled, and having to ask for paper and a pen from other students? They thought he must’ve gone insane.
On the other hand, your jaw has found a home on the floor. Yes, you vaguely remember him shoving you off and muttering a string of not-so-nice words, but you swear it wasn’t as bad as he described! Clinging to him—you? never.
“Ha, as if I’d ever-“
“Cling to me? I had a feeling you’d say that.”
Your pride is shattered in a matter of seconds, never to be rebuilt again, you would say. The evidence is shown before you, and even worse, it’s in photo form. Your arms are slung tightly around his shoulders, your legs are intertwined with his, and worst of all, your cheeks are smushed against his neck.
“I..” Nothing can save you now; there’s no coming back from this one.
“Exactly.” He’s got a smug look in his eyes now as he glares at you, knowing you’re very much stuck.
Well, when you can’t agree or deny it, just change the entire subject. At least that’s your newfound motto.
“The point is, you don’t have classes until 1p.m. tomorrow, and you know I never wake up that late-“
“How do you know my schedule?”
“…”
The silence is deafening. Well, congratulations on changing the subject. How do you even know his schedule? You don’t remember specifically trying to find it.
“Did you seriously remember the days when I left the room without a fuss and worked out my schedule according to that?”
That’s exactly what you did. Of course, you’d never outright look at his schedule or snoop at his things (he’s crazy observant, he would know). But you find yourself figuring him out more and more each time. On Thursdays and Tuesdays, he’d leave with no fuss, even giving you a small ruffle of your hair (which you never admitted to being awake for). Naturally, as his rival and for only that purpose (obviously), you decided to look up each and every class for that day and slowly work out his timetable based on the subjects you had seen him study for.
Stalking? No. One step ahead of your rival? Yes.
You sigh and place the pile of books you had borrowed earlier back in their rightful places. You’d be going home regardless. ‘I don’t need him. He’s useless, and i can sleep perfectly fine on my own. I’m going to go home and get all cosy and have a long, peaceful sleep.’ Convincing yourself isn’t as hard as you thought, unlike trying to keep a neutral look on your face.
“I can see you sulking.” Al-Haitham remarks, raising an eyebrow at you.
“Will you shut up? Ahem, if you have nothing useful to do here, I suggest you leave too.” The monotone sound surprises him, one brow raising at you. He puts a hand down on the table in front of you, stopping you from moving any further. His eyes narrow, scanning your features.
“Stop using your student council voice with me; I’m not some troubled first year.”
“For further support, you may talk to-“
He lets out a reluctant groan and picks up your tote bag, slinging it over his broad shoulder. It sits perfectly, just like every other time. Calloused skin connects with your soft palm as he interlocks his freehand with yours.
“Fine. We’ll have a sleepover. Happy?” He finally gives in, though not without an exasperated sigh. You both know it’ll end this way, and you also both love the little game you play.
“Very.”
He lets you pull him towards your dorm room. A smug smile is permanent on your face, free to roam in the silent corridors as if it existed just for your leisure. You fiddle with your pockets, eventually pulling the keys out. The door swings open after a bit of lazy fumbling, and he follows in beside you. One hand rests on the small of your back after noticing your sudden sleepier state.
“Are you hungry? I have bagels.” You glance back at him, already zooming into the kitchen for a late-night snack. He sets your tote bag carefully on the floor, careful not to crush the notes within.
“You’ll burn it again.”
“Hey, I adapt and move forward, you know!”
You prepare him a bagel as he takes a seat on your plush couch. His eyes scan over the shelves, which are filled with all sorts of trinkets and mementos he’s almost begun to miss. On the other hand, his dorm is plain, with nothing more than the essentials. Is that the reason he always ends up sleeping over at your place? As if the answer wasn’t obvious from the countless times he’s laid awake in an empty bed, he finds himself questioning his emotions once more.
A ceramic plate is swiftly placed in front of his face, interrupting his thoughts. A toasted bagel is placed at a certain angle with extra sesame seeds scattered on the plate and butter spread fancifully on the side. Azure eyes meet your wide ones as you smile cheekily down at him.
“Who are you trying to impress? Gordon Ramsay?” He couldn’t help but let it slip out of his mouth. They were sworn rivals after all, and they’d have to be imposters if they went a day without getting a quip at one another.
“I could make Gordon Ramsay beg for my food.”
You watch eagerly for his reaction as his teeth bite into the soft, warm bread of the bagel and into the filling.
“Fine, I suppose it’s decent. Still overdone by about 20 seconds.”
“Oh, shut up!”
He cant help but let a smirk rise on his face as you storm into your bedroom, leaving him to eat the bagel in the quietness of your living room. He won’t admit it, but there was something about tasting something you made that satisfied him more than his favourite food usually did. Perhaps it was your focused look as you layered the fillings, or maybe it’s the way you proudly presented it before him. Regardless, he wouldn’t have it any other way.
You’re dressed in a plain t-shirt and plaid pyjama trousers when you return, a pile of clothes in your hands. “You left these at my place last time.”
“You didn’t wear them, did you?” His eyebrows raise as he looks at you suspiciously.
“Ew.” Disgust forms in your expression, and you roll your eyes at his accusation.“I washed it for you; be grateful.”
The neatly folded pile of clothes is taken in his hands, and he is surprised by the kind gesture. Or maybe you’re just a germaphobe, which seems slightly more likely. He slips on the freshly washed garments, closing his eyes as he inhales the sweet scent. It’s wonderful; like he’s sitting in a field of flowers at this very moment. It overcomes all his senses, being subdued by the comfort of your perfume—Wait. His eyes widen at the sudden realisation, and he lifts the thin fabric to his nose.
He was right; it is your perfume.
Of course, only you would practically drown his abandoned clothes in your most girliest perfume just to piss him off. Well, his cheeks are rather pink now after it had the complete opposite effect than intended. He supposes he should consider this a warning to ensure he takes his clothing with him next time.
The vanity light illuminates your soft skin in the dim bedroom. In front of you, bottles, tall and small, are laid out. Each cream,serum, and cleanser is chosen specifically for each of the steps of the routine. His crossed arms prop him up as he leans against the doorframe, trying to avoid disturbing you with your rather cute ministrations. You’ve changed a few of your products, even going so far as to change some of them to his that you had tested at his dorm. He mentally notes the new additions, already planning for when you next stay over.
If he were being logical like always, he could’ve kept it all in a drawer or a bag in his closet, but your little corner of things in his dorm brings colour and life to the dull room he’s never once considered his home. Something stirs within him—the reflection of his ‘spare’ bathrobe on the back of the bathroom door, a smudge of lipstick on the hand towel, an empty coffee mug that is waiting in the cupboard. He can’t forget the box of vitamins on the dining table as he eats his breakfast. You insist they will keep him healthy (they’re kiddie gummies).
He blinks, returning to the moment. A content sigh rumbles through his chest as he watches you in awe for a moment longer before finally taking a seat on his side of the bed—something he had unintentionally claimed not too long ago. His hands settle on the soft linen of your floral bedsheets,which only ever seem to change colours and never lose the embroidery of your beloved plants. Despite your incessant complaining, the Amurta major in you always seems to shine through in the smallest things, or perhaps he’s the one constantly looking for it. Just now, he had seen the water droplets on your pyjama shirt, signalling that you had just watered all the plants that hang across the walls of your bedroom. He wonders which sage you coerced into allowing you to have this.
He watches you from behind—the way your soft fingertips rub the serums into your skin and the focused look on your face as you look into yourself in the mirror. It makes him feel warm as you admire your face in the reflection. He thinks you’re perfect, and he wants you to think it too. But he’s also getting a little impatient.
“Begged me for a sleepover but won’t even join me?”
Despite the annoyance held in his words , his tone is calm and soft; he’s never been the same Al-Haitham when in your room. The soft fairy lights illuminating the adorable polaroids littering the walls soothe his mind; it makes him think of you in a different light. He could never be so cold towards you now that he’s seen so much of you, and now he intends to lay himself bare, without his armour.
“Just a moment..”
You give up on your witty comebacks as you succumb to what you’ve craved for far too long now. Your warmth encases him as the bed sheets rustle once again in your presence this time. He brings his face closer, not wasting a moment until he coaxes you closer, an arm wrapping around your waist to pull you into his side.
“You need to rest.”
He states, but its more of a question of whether you’ll listen and sleep or defy your needs to tease him a little longer.
“Oh, I’m the one who needs to rest, do I?”
You say it slyly, giving him a playful grin as you enjoy how his arms feel around your torso. Your hands sneak up to his hair, ruffling it out of its flatness.
“Yes, you. Who else?”
He rolls his eyes at you, and pushes your hand away from his messy locks. One hand reaches up to gently thumb the dark circles under your eyes. “No skin care routine is going to fix this, so you better sleep on time for whoever you’re always trying to impress.”
You hold your mouth shut. Think about it.
Sure, you can argue that you do all of it for yourself. But it’s a complete lie. All of this, this rivalry, this overworking yourself, these antics. They’re all to one up him, all to be smarter than him, in hopes that one day you will beat him. Or maybe something else. Maybe you want him to acknowledge that you beat him. Maybe you want him to acknowledge you.
A small scoff is heard as you rest your head near the crook of his neck, one arm over his chest as you tuck yourself into his side.
“ ‘m not tryna impress anyone.”
The words are mumbled as the dim room gets to you, coaxing the tiredness out of you. His hand moves to your head, running his fingers through the strands of soft hair.
“Did you know if you sleep earlier, then you’ll actually retain more information? If you did that, maybe you’d beat me.”
His voice is low, lulling you to rest as you begin to doze off. He can feel your head growing heavier and his gentle strokes growing slower as he watches you drift off. Your responses turn into inaudible mumbles, which he lets out a small chuckle to.
Maybe, deep down, you do yearn for his attention. Perhaps you do yearn to be better, wish that one day this pretense will be broken and you can love him without holding back.
His gaze is fixed on the way your hair falls around your face, stray strands on your cheeks. He can’t understand why you push yourself so hard. He’s seen your efforts, everyone has, its clear as day. But its rather amusing to see you try so hard to prove yourself to him. You just need to step back and look at your achievements and you’ll realise it all.
“Maybe you’ll see that you already have everything you’ve wanted here already.”
He whispers the words softly. And who knows, maybe one day he’ll say it when you’re wide awake.
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fangirlingpuggle · 2 years
Text
So a couple more half asleep random thoughts on my latest DP AU where Danny accidentally calls CW dad and then no one believes he’s not actually his dad (Link here)
Mainly Fright Knight. He hears Phantom called CW father and he starts thinking about kid running into fights with the odds stacked against him, ridiculously stubborn and noble, completely protective over the land he’s claimed to protect and winning through determination and force of will and suddenly is remembering what Pariah was like when he was younger and before the madness took hold and is 1000% sure Danny is Pariah and CW’s biological kid no one will convince him otherwise and after his mini breakdown that he literally tried to kill his prince he decides it is his duty to protect Phantom at all costs. He shows up and swears fealty to him and Danny is just like ‘wtf wtf wtf’ and tries explaining that he called Clockwork dad on accident and oh god he’s embarrassed enough about calling his sort of mentor dad but
Danny: Look Clockwork is not my dad and Pariah definitely isn’t
Fright Knight: Yes they are
Danny:...I-what no no they are not
Fright Knight: They most definitely are my prince
Danny:...
It’s a lost cause trying to explain they’re not Clockwork has shown the ancients the actual timeline they still don’t believe him.
Fright knight is not only super protective of Danny, Dash literally doesn't know what him but he ended up though a wall last time he tried to mess with Danny (Danny is torn between fuck you almost killed him and fuck that was amazing) but also very concerned about the future ghost kings education he finds out Danny is struggling and goes apeshit in the ghost zone like ‘ALL OF YOU WILL STAY ON THIS SIDE OF THE PORTAL OUR FUTURE KING NEEDS TO DO CALCULUS’ he also is deeply concerned his prince does not know about ghost zone lore so Danny ends up getting ghost history lessons....Jazz gatecrashes them, she is taking all the notes (She’s also heard about Pariah and CW relationship and is very invested)
Also he starts teaching Danny more fighting and Danny wants to argue and should be trying to convince everyone he’s not the ghost zone prince...but he’s sword lessons and it’s super cool.
He’s kinda just getting used to that when the ancients show up with presents to see their Nephew. Danny feels super awkward and is just very glad Jack and Maddie are still in the basement having an existential crisis and looking over all their life's work to busy to come upstairs and see all of the most powerful ancient ghosts of the infinite realms having tea around the table.... at least he gets to hear embarrassing stories about Pariah and Clockwork.
Clockwork shows up as well Danny is awkward as hell around him at first because haven’t really interacted since he pulled the ultimate accidentally calling your teacher dad move.
CW: I wouldn’t bother trying to keep explaining it to them Daniel just accept fate
Danny:...uh why is it for the best timeline
CW:No. They’re just to stubborn to accept anything else.
CW: In all timelines all trying to explain does is lead to a headache
He also not so subtly says that well he also sees Danny as a son and that he wouldn’t mind having that bond... it’s the weirdest most roundabout way to adopt someone.
Pariah shows up and instead of the dramatic reunion he and CW slide just into how they were before Pariah went crazy aka the most mushy romantic couple of all time, like able to kill you with a thought but to busy getting lost in each others eyes to think about it.
The observants are actually super happy Pariah is back because they totally shipped it they spent centuries observing these twos ridiculous pinning and romance and then Pariah went crazy and sunk their ship and so they are super happy to have their ship back they are sitting back watching eating popcorn watching this surprise child plot twist gasping and with their own cork board of conspiracies like ‘OMG THAT’S WHY CLOCKWORK SAVED HIM YES DOTS CONNECTED’
Bonus: Vlad bursts in to do evil plan he’s been plotting and... there is the fight Knight all the ancients, Clockwork and Pariah all just sitting there...he just very slowly walks backwards out of the house...Fright Knight still tracks him down and kicks his ass.
Bonus bouns: Dani. The zones find about Dani and lose their minds more nobody even questions how they could have 2 kids of different ages at all, they’re all like you control time weird shit happens but for sure that’s your kid.
Vlad: I made them that’s a clone of Daniel
Ghost Zone: ha right nah that’s Pariah and Clockworks kid
Vlad*Eye twitching*
Dani finds herself scooped up by Fight knight calling her the princess of the ghost zone and that her fathers have been looking for her and she’s confused but also like...ok and just rolls with it.
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starlitmark · 3 months
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Summary: Both you and Taeyong love waking up to slow, soft sex early in the morning. Pairing: Taeyong x fem!reader Tropes: established relationship au, soulmate au (mind link/shared dreams) Genre: smut Rating: R 18+ Warnings: soul links, language Smut Warnings: unprotected sex, somnophilia, grinding Word Count: 600 Host Tags: @sanjoongie @thelargefrye Note: sorry this is late!! Things happened at home Before You Interact February Filth Masterlist
Listen to ♡ Velvet by EXID
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You wake before Taeyong does most days. Most days, you both are up and running out the door for work. Then, there are days like today. The rays of the sun shine through the sheer white curtains. (After coming home late last night, you forgot to draw the heavier ones that block out the light.). Taeyong’s soothing breathing adds just the slightest bit of noise to the quiet space. You hardly awake yourself and debate falling back to sleep. Instead, you catch a glimpse of your soulmate’s dream through your mind link. It’s just the two of you on a cute little picnic date in some flowery field. It’s cute in every sense of the word. Normally, you don’t intend to see Taeyong’s dreams, often times you leave him to his dreams in peace. For some reason, today, you just couldn’t block it out. You roll over and look at your boyfriend. He seems entirely peaceful other than his eyebrows being furrowed.
Letting out a soft breath, you close your eyes and mentally step through the link between your minds. The doorway of sorts is wide open. You find yourself in Taeyong’s dream a moment later and are pleasantly surprised to see what he dreams about. Immediately you’re greeted with the feeling of your boyfriend fully inside you. His face is tucked into your shoulder as he smoothly and methodically thrusts into you.
That’s another thing about your mind links, when you step into the space, you are actually a part of the dream or any other content that occupies the space. You’ll often find Taeyong stepping into the shared space to just hang out and talk when you’re apart. Now though, you’ve taken the place of your dream self and are so happy you did.
Clinging to him, you let out a broken moan. Each thrust is perfectly angled to brush up against your g-spot. Taeyong starts placing placing kisses along your neck and shoulder. The sensation sends chills up and down your spine.
“Hi, sweetheart, you finally join me?” He gasps.
“Yongie–” you moan, “Feels so good.”
“I should’ve gotten you in here quicker, fuck, I’m not gonna last.”
You wrap your legs around his waist, hoping to urge him to go faster. The heat in your belly is starting to become a fire. You’re still very much sleepy, but the feeling of your boyfriend inside you has you more desperate than you could ever describe. Taeyong gently pulls your legs around his waist and pulls you onto his lap. Now you can properly see the landscape of his dream. You’re in a stunning, vibrantly colored valley. Taeyong doesn’t give you long to process your surroundings before he’s thrusting up into you at a pace that makes you see stars.
“Fuck– I’m gonna cum, baby.” Taeyong groans, peppering kisses against your chest.
Before you can respond, you’re startled out of the dreamscape. You open your eyes to see yourself cuddled up against Taeyong’s chest. He groans and rubs his eyes before looking over at you. He doesn’t say a word; instead, he leans in and kisses you softly. Rolling over to be over you, he lets one of his hands wander down your side to rub small circles into your waist. You gasp as he slots himself between your legs and starts grinding against you. Nothing could beat mornings like this. The feeling of your soulmate loving you and you love him. Being able to share such a strong connetion without any words being exchanged. All of it was so velvety and warm. You never want to leave.
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azurevi · 1 year
Text
in a crowd of thousands
aka a collection of ideas for my childhood friends to lovers leona au / aka my headcanons of the entire life of leona kingscholar. jeez
note: am i dumping all my ideas for this au here because they’re too disorganised and messy that i can’t work out anything but i don’t want to just let them go to waste? yes i am. this au has been tormenting me for weeks but my brain just can’t figure how to seamlessly plan it so chances are i’m gonna put it away. it’s not like i laid awake in bed till 4am because i was thinking about it last night anyways lololololol
i did actually write a bit for this au, which you can find at the end of all the points, but it is unedited and was done before the tamashina-mina event so it’s definitely not perfect. i would be happy if it was readable-
this idea dump is 5.8k (god bless), and the attached work is around 4k? so yea
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The story starts when Leona is 8, begrudgingly attending Farena’s coming of age ceremony. Everyone is cheering and celebrating the beloved first prince’s birthday, all the while Leona sulks in the carriage, feeling the acidic jealousy rot in his stomach. He’s never received a celebration this grand in his name before, and he’s certainly never worn something some extravagant, even on his own birthday.
Just as he’s fighting his urge not to jump off of the royal carriage, he’s approached by an eager kid who, judging by appearance, can’t be older than him. they’re putting their short legs to use by chasing the carriage, a bouquet of fresh flowers secure in their grip. Leona thinks at first that it’s yet another present for Farena, but they’re calling for him instead, asking that he take the flowers. So he does, reaching all the way out of the carriage to grab the gift, earning surprised and distraught yells from the guards.
By the time he’s seated and looks back again, they’ve already disappeared in the sea of people.
Leona’s never received anything like this before. People only ever compliment and offer gifts to Farena, fuzzing over his bubbly personality and applauding the grace he presents himself with. Even back when they were faced with their mother’s death from a deadly illness, he was still praised for upholding his dignity and composure, while Leona stood at his side, mourning the death of one of the only people who truly cared about him.
So naturally Leona’s curious about the nameless admirer. And what better way to meet them than to order flowers from each and every florist’s shop in Sunset Savannah to see if they’ll show up for the delivery? It’s a long shot, one that depends entirely on the assumption that they even work at a flower shop and didn’t just buy the bouquet somewhere else. But he’s willing to bet on his luck.
So days passed, Leona’s made like twenty or so orders and his room is filled with foliage, from small pots of plants to tall wide leaves. Kifaji is honestly a bit confused by this, and a lot of guards are saying that he’s throwing an unreasonable tantrum. But never-mind them, because he eventually gets what he wants.
So on a fine early afternoon another delivery comes. This time it’s a whole cart filled with blooms of different colors. Sort of looks like a whole bush has been moved onto it. It’s so huge that he can’t see the person rolling the cart, but then he lolls his head to the side and spots those familiar eyes, the ones he’s been wondering about when he’s wide awake at midnight.
And guess what? They’re excited to see him too. So much so that they topple over and cause the entire cart to fall forward. The bush cascades onto him like a waterfall, but luckily the cart doesn’t crash him, but instead fall backward with a loud CRASH. Kifaji almost has a heart attack at that.
At Leona’s command the retainers and chamberlains leave him alone with the kid, and they get to know each other, like where the kid’s from, why they gave him the flowers etc. Turns out they wanted to thank him for the clothes donation he did for the poor kids living near Elephant’s Legacy a while back then.
Leona doesn’t have the heart to tell them that the donation wasn’t his idea, that he only said ‘whatever’ when the tailor suggested that he gave the ill-fitting outfits to kids in need.
Wanting to spend more time with his new ‘admirer’, he ditches class and sneaks them all around the palace, showing them things that have their eye’s sparkling in awe, but especially his personal achievements. They’re amazed by all of it: where people states that his interest in chess is somewhat boring (even though it’s just because he’s not as energetic and sociable as his brother), they think that it’s cool and smart. Even though he doesn’t like painting as his brother and father do, they don’t judge him for it, but instead agree that spending time in the library reading ancient books is more worthwhile.
Then they move on to talk about magic. Leona is obviously proficient, but they on the other hand actually don’t possess it. At least not yet. So they’re like ‘omg you have a unique magic already can you show me’ and that’s when Leona hesitates. He has endless ways to impress them, but his unique magic has always been something that others frown upon. It’s destructive, it’s messy, and it’s not beautiful. But you insist anyways, and young Leona decides, what the hell, screw it.
And to his surprise, they’re not a bit terrified. Quite the contrary, as you goes off on a tangent talking about how it could come in handy in so many situations.
And that’s the start of a precious friendship! Leona decides to order flowers regularly from their shop alone, and they get to know each other a lot better from there onward.
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Years pass and they’re basically besties now. The young florist visits at least once a week, and the second prince is always more cheery and energised when they’re hanging out.
He tells them all about his life, how his mother had been sick for as long as he could remember and how her death took a toll on him. How Kifaji is pretty much the only chamberlain that doesn’t talk behind his back. How the others do it all the time just because Farena shines far brighter than he does.
The florist talks behind their backs as revenge, and it makes him feel just a bit better. And proud too.
It’s great knowing that someone cares and appreciates him. It makes him want to keep trying.
Similarly they let him into their life. They show them where they live, which is somewhere near the border between the bustling city and the neglected neighbourhoods, the poorer villages that fail to catch up with the Sunrise City and other major cities’ developments. Due to the country’s insistence to uphold the ‘coexistence with nature’ mission, little progress is resulted in those areas, and the disparity is beginning to look like a wide canyon.
Having lived in the palace for most of his life, this is the first time Leona learns of the parts of Sunset Savannah that the royals don’t talk about.
And as a result of the slow, almost stagnant growth of these places, infrastructures are nearly unaccessible. Even if people get sick (and they get sick quite a lot) they don’t get much medical support, at least not nearby.
One of the victims is the florist’s mother— and this is entirely the reason why they need to be working at such a young age. She’s been ill for a long time and is bed-ridden for the better part of a day, so they have to support the family. There is little medicine they can get their hands on, and even if they do get something, nothing really works.
With such a important mission on their shoulder, they’ve never really considered what they wanted to be in the future. The immediate goal was to have their mother get better, and to keep the family business going.
Looking at the ghastly lives of the people is sort of a reality check for Leona. And that’s when he begins to feel an ambition grow inside him.
He wants to change things, because no one in the palace seems to care about the people who are suffering so long as they’re out of sight.
The first time he raises the idea with his father, the king does take his words into consideration, but ultimately decides that it’s more important to preserve the country’s culture. Plus the councillors / politicians etc don’t agree with his views anyways, claiming that he’s too young to understand that ‘some sacrifices have to be made’.
Which is absurd, because he’s looking right at one of the sacrifices right now, and it’s their most important friend, who’s forced to provide for their family all on his own.
Leona doesn’t give up. He goes on learning more about the country he lives in, spends a little more time away from the glorious Sunrise City, and comes up with plans to improve Sunset Savanna. They��re not perfect, most of them are not totally feasible, but at least he’s doing something. Even Kifaji gives him his own opinions at times, unlike the other chamberlains who dislike that he’s trying to upend how the country’s always been operated.
All the while the florist gives him all the support he needs. Even when it feels like the majority of the world is against him at times, with them by his side, he feels invincible, like he can really change the world if he wants to.
Them making flower crowns for him as he works on his projects… that’s it. That’s the image.
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Leona is maybe around 14, 15. His father falls ill (why is everyone sick in this story…) and there is a dire need of a new ruler to watch over the country in his hopefully momentary absence.
A king. Leona’s spent his whole life looking at one, and though he’s far from a mature adult, he tries his hand at politics anyways, hoping that he at least has a shot at becoming one in the near future. But everyone has already had their pick, and it’s none other than Farena. Farena, who rejects Leona’s ideals like everyone else.
“It’s simply too complicated”, he says, but Leona doesn’t see how hard it can be to take a new path.
But he’s still trying, at least for his dear friend. His dear friend, who’s been sticking with him through all the doubts and rejections. His dear friend, who’s promised time after time that they’ll never leave him or turn their back to him. His dear friend, who is there for some of the worst nights he has, comforting him as he winds down from nightmares. His dear friends, who always smells like a walking garden. His dear friend, whom he inevitably falls for.
At the same time, a romance is blooming somewhere else in the palace. Farena has fallen in love with Malaika, and after perhaps a few years of dating on the down low, they are ready to get married. And obviously this is good news. People see this as another indication that Farena will be a great king, seeing as he’s already had so much planned before him.
It’s like they don’t even plan to give Leona a chance.
But as always, his friend somehow sees the better side of things as they always do, telling him not to lose all hope yet.
Sometimes it feels like they’re the only person keeping him going. Would be. sad if they were to. Leave him. (clear throat) Anyways.
In the meanwhile, he decides to take advantage of the wedding. Perhaps the passionate atmosphere can assist him in his own romantic endeavours. Though it’s usually unusual and almost unorthodox for a commoner to attend a royal wedding, they get a pass since Kifaji assigns them to help with the decorations.
And it kind of does. He gets to dance with them, though the music is way too quick for him to really soak in the moment. He gets to see up close how there are stars in their eyes as they watch the bride and groom exchange their vows. Eventually, during dinner, he becomes annoyed by the other guests’ heartless questions about his life and sneaks away with his friend. It ends with a few guards hot on their tails, and in a moment of fight or flight, they dart into one of the empty rooms to hide.
Which just so happens to be the throne room. There’s no one around to berate him anyways, so Leona decides to stride towards the throne and take a seat on the gilded surface, overseeing the now vacant room. There seems to be power infused in this simple throne; the power he needs to make a change in the world, to make the ignorant listen to not just him, but also the demands of the people.
As if that’s not enough, they move to his side and jokingly calls him ‘your majesty’ and his heart does a whole somersault. Even though it’s just for a moment, he feels like he has everything he needs in his hand: the person he loves, and the throne that he so deserves.
And really, he could’ve just told them his feelings there and now, but he’s so caught up in the moment that he decides to postpone it. He’ll have the opportunity to do it in the future anyways. He’s certain that they’ll stay with him till the end of time.
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When the invitation letter from NRC comes, Leona doesn’t bat an eye. There’s nothing the school can teach him that he hasn’t already mastered. Plus he’d rather stay here with his friend than go somewhere else all on his own.
Not to mention he’s busy trying to persuade those in power to agree with his vision about rebranding the country, which has been largely unsuccessful. Farena has been busy attending to other matters, and though Malaika sees where Leona’s coming from, she too is burdened by her share of responsibilities.
Time after time the officials have described his ideas as foolish, irresponsible, unreasonable, as if they still see him as an incapable child. Meanwhile it seems like they go along with everything Farena does, even if it jeopardises the livelihood of those under poverty line. All the while his friend's mother withers away. Watching the impending death looms over them places a knife in his chest. He doesn’t want to see them grief like he did when his mother left.
Leona can’t help but feel frustrated. Years of hard work hasn’t led him anywhere. As a kid he was more often frowned upon than not, but now that he was a teenager he still hasn’t gained the respect he deserves. Projects after projects are banned, to the point where the council members groan every time he shows up to their meetings. His ambition starts to dwindle. It feels like he’s trapped in the same tunnel with no hope of escaping.
Well, except when he’s with the only person who understands him. Even when they’re spending most of their time taking care of their mother now, he still derives strength from the occasional letters exchanged between them. (i loveeeee letters i love epistolary fics)
The pent-up frustration eventually leads him to do something rash: he challenges Farena for the position of Sunset Savanna’s ruler. To anyone else, it sounds like an absurd comedy. Leona— 16 and still growing— is challenging Farena, who not only is a decade older but also has more experiences than he does in managing a country.
I feel like challenges to the throne can go two ways; either they settle this with a physical fight or a peaceful voting. Obviously the former is going to hurt a lot more but I feel like it’ll be more impactful…
So say the rules require them to settle this with a fight. Which now that I think about would be more reasonable because there’s no way Leona will get enough votes anyways. So under a stormy night (for dramatic effects) the two brothers have an inevitable clash, and this isn’t just for the title of king.
It’s also the anguish Leona feels from living in Farena’s shadow all these years. His anger at the unattainable standard he has created for him. His jealousy at all the love that’s been thrown his way, all the attention their father has given him. But also the sadness from having him as a brother, from the lack of connection between them. It’s never really Farena’s fault, more like since the day Leona realized why the guards were more concerned with a paper cut on Farena’s hand than half of his room dissolved into sand, a crack formed in their relationship, and it only grew larger until it’s an impossible canyon.
The ending is written in stone. The guards and Malaika watch on, the spectators sparse and few. They’d rather not have the people know about such dispute within the royal family. The rain washes away the beads of red on the ground, but not the bruises on each of them’s flesh, and certainly not the gaping wounds in their hearts. Even as Leona is pushed to the corner, he doesn’t let himself stay down, his aching legs and sore arms be damned. And with him not admitting defeat, Farena can’t end the fight.
In the end, it is Kifaji who pulls him away before he’s injured beyond recognition, but even then he thrashes and attempts to push him away. “Let go of me”, “I’m not losing”. The words scratch his throat as he yells. Finally, Kifaji lets go of his arm, his face twisted in hurt.
“Tone it down, my prince! You’re being difficult!” It hurts him as much as it does Leona, but he goes on, “There’s no point.”
It feels like yet another inescapable twist. Kifaji, who’s always given him the silent approval. Kifaji, who treats him to sautéed mutton every time he’s faced with defeat. Kifaji, whom he trusts with his life. It turns out that he’s just like everyone else.
That day, it’s not just his relationship with Farena that shatters, but also the bond he shared with Kifaji.
Allowing no one near him, Kifaji has no choice but to visit his only friend. They rush with him back to the palace upon hearing about everything that’s happened, and feels their heart lurch uncomfortably at the sight of Leona’s battered state.
With utmost precision, they clean and bandage his wounds like how they wrap papers around bunches of flowers. The silence stretches, as if the moment it’s broken, the tears welling in their eyes will fall uncontrollably.
And so neither of them speak a word. Once they’re done with throwing away the bloodied towels, Leona lets his head loll onto their shoulder. Even in their presence it feels like his heart is hardening into a rock, one that upon being crushed, will never be recovered again. The night embraces them; two souls beaten down by life, robbed of their hopes and dreams.
Leona will never admit it, but that night, he holds their hand like it’s his only lifeline.
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In the end, the thing that stomps on his aspirations is but a little child.
Cheka is what Malaika and Farena decide to call him. The young, adorable son of the king (in all but name anyways), who is also a promise that Leona shall never get the throne.
It’s… devastating. His steely, cold eyes are fixed unblinkingly on the snoring infant in his arms. Cheka had been crying non-stop in the middle of the night, craving his mother’s embrace, but Malaika is caught up in a meeting. As it turns out, funnily enough, he only goes quiet when he’s shoved into Leona’s arms.
Leona wills himself to feel hatred, to feel spite, but nothing comes out but for a single tear that rolls down his face. The only thing eating him up inside is pity for himself.
He feels lost. For the longest time he’s felt like he’s playing on the losing team, like the game’s rigged, but to think that the definite indication of his defeat is a young child?
The walls of the palace close in on him. Any second now they’ll come crashing down. Would anyone notice if he’s buried under debris? Probably not. The beloathed second prince, the disappointment in everyone’s eyes.
Is there any point in trying?
As hopelessness engulfs him, his only hope is to call for the only person left in his life who would still back him up. After all, they’ve promised time after time that they wouldn’t give up on them both. Hours tick by; he paces in his room, feeling every hair on his skin. There seems to be a predator in the corner of his room, looming over him, waiting to catch him in a moment of weakness.
He waits, and waits some more. When the guard returns empty-handed, he goes there by himself.
When was the last time they met? Right. Last month, when Leona asked the royal healer to gauge the cause of their mother’s illness. Dread overcomes him as he nears the shabby shop. Paired with the crumbling depression he’s been feeling the whole day, he won’t be surprised if the ground under him caves in swallows him whole.
It’s empty. The wooden sign says ‘closed’. There’s no light from the second floor, where they live. The flowers in front of the shop has withered. It looks vacant, deserted. Coincidentally, that’s also how Leona feels.
They’re just … gone. No one has idea where they’ve gone to; all of their neighbours claim that they just disappeared one day, like they were taken by the wind. Leona sends out anyone who’s not caught up in caring for the newborn prince to look for them, but to no avail. He has no idea what has happened to them, or whether they’re even still— alive.
The thought makes him sick to the stomach.
He waits for days. Weeks. Then he realises that he’s truly alone. For the first time in his life, there’s no one left in his life who know him.
Call it impulse, call it his mind playing tricks. He doesn’t have it in him to think about reason anyways. All he knows is that the longer he stays in this cage of a palace, he’ll suffocate.
A fortnight later, he digs out the crumbled, forgotten invitation letter from his drawer, and leaves for the college far away from his homeland.
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Three or four years of school. That’s quite enough to make someone become a bitter, cynical person. That’s where Leona finds himself anyways, lazing his time away at NRC. He doesn’t technically like it here— too many people, too noisy— but it’s better than being stuck in the palace, forced to come face to face with the fact that he’s born with the short end of the stick.
Classes are largely meaningless. He doesn’t have to listen to a single lecture to get full marks in tests and exams. Leading his dorm and the Magift club doesn’t give him as much satisfaction as he initially expected. Most days it feels meaningless to do anything, but it doesn’t kill him. Whatever sadness or problems that come his way can be solved by a nap. If they persist, then two naps. Eventuality they will leave him alone; there isn’t much point in trying anyways.
Why the botanical garden? Well, it’s just a personal choice of his. Maybe it also has something to do with the fact that the mix of flowers and grass reminds him of a softer, better time. Not that he will ever admit it. If anyone asks him why he knows so much about botany, floriculture and all that, he can just brush it off by saying that he’s spent too much time in the garden.
He doesn’t really miss anything. Or anyone. This life he’s leading is not ideal, but, again, it’s just enough to get by.
At least he’s not totally lonely. There’s always someone bothering him, like Ruggie right now, who’s berating him for being late for the preparation of the entrance ceremony.
The corridor is packed with new, curious faces. Most of them seem to recognize the lion beastman and stay out of his way smartly. As he lazily trails behind Ruggie, he hears a bit of commotion coming from just around the corner. Gasps and cusses, and also muttered apologies.
It’s probably nothing, he thinks to himself as he turns— only to come face to face with a stack of books higher than him. It looms over him, threatening to fall directly on his head.
(is this… deja vu?)
Moments before he can feel the impact, Ruggie yells, “Laugh with me!” and manages to balance whoever’s holding the books. “Come on, Leona! We’re already late!”
As he clicks his tongue in annoyance and walks past the faceless student, he hears them mutter a thanks under their breath. It sounds- awfully familiar. Familiar enough to make him swivel around sharply, gaze drilling holes in their back.
“Leona!”
Damn it. He shakes the thought away and follows the hyena instead.
The little encounter gets forgotten in the back of his mind as he prepares to welcome a new group of dorm members. The newbies stand in a crooked queue, turning around and talking to the strangers around them. Some of them are adjusting their robes, the others fidgeting nervously. Whispers fly, most of them speculations of whichever dorm the speakers are about to be sorted in.
It doesn’t surprise him that most his new dorm members look to be physically advantaged. He wouldn’t want it other way; it helps raise his chances of victory in the next Magift tournament.
As he’s about to drift off into dreamland, he hears the next name being called. A name that he hasn’t spoken in years, a name that he’s been trying to bury in his memories.
There’s no mishearing it— his eyes are wide open now, landing on the hooded figure in front of the mirror. Their face is obscured, but then they give their own name to the mirror, and that’s when Leona knows for sure that’s it’s them.
He couldn’t put to words what was happening in his head. Happiness? Surprise? Confusion? An amalgamation of emotions blur within him. He holds his breath, waiting for the announcement of the dorm. What’s it gonna be? No, how even are they here? Have they somehow figured out magic? Where have they even been?
“The shape of thy soul belongs to… Savanaclaw."
Well, he'll be damned.
Immediately after hearing that, their head shoots up, eyes landing on the tall and muscled group of students. For some reasons he cannot fathom, he turns his face to the side, concealing himself. Is it because he's unready to confront a face from the past? Is it because he's hung up on the fact that they left him without a word?
No, it feels more like shame. He isn't sure if he wants to be seen by them in this state. Not yet.
He remains quiet during the trip back to the dorm. Ruggie shoots him a confused glance as he's supposed to give a short speech to welcome the first-year students, but he lets it slide.
Even as he's standing in the very front of the queue, he can make out that distinct flowery scent if he tries. Years of memories come crashing on him, so sudden that he finds himself at a loss of words as he leaves Ruggie to assign the rooms.
He knows there's no point in hiding when he's literally the dorm leader, but the thoughts within him are too much of a whirlwind. Even when he's time after time fantasized about meeting them again, this feels way too sudden. He needs time to untangle his feelings. Maybe then he'll have the guts to face them.
This plan goes down the drain in the end. He hates feeling like a coward, but what he hates even more is that they are literally in the same building as him, and he's knocking himself away. Propelled by nothing but a racing heart, he gets out of bed and down the hallways, coming to a stop in front of a room that he hopes is correct.
He knocks.
Seconds pass. No one seems to be answering. Just as he's about to give up and return to his room, the door is swung open, and in the doorway stands the person that's been weaving in and out of his dreams.
Time has been good to them. Their features have become more defined, and they are holding themselves up with more confidence now. Leona freezes right there like an awkward statue, mouth agape. Words fail him. What is he supposed to say anyways, except that he's missed them?
After a beat, recognition dawns on their face. The beam on their lips is so beautiful it could light up the whole building. They all but throw themselves at them, and Leona stumbles backward from the strength.
What is he to do but to wrap his ams around them as well? It feels like he's back in the palace again, only this time without any sourness coating his tongue.
So they finally get to talk about everything that's happened in the past years. It turns out that one night their mother got dangerously close to the edge of death, and in a moment of bone-chilling fear, they woke up the neighbourhood doctor for help. As usual, he couldn't do anything, but at the sight of their distraught tears, he advised that the two of them go away to this other country, where developments in technology and medicine were more advanced. With no time to waste, he helped them sneak onto the last late night ride out of Sunset Savanna and to the foreign land.
It turned out that there was indeed a possible cure for their mother, but the follow-up treatment was a long, taxing journey. They found a place to stay in, and it took six months for her situation to finally stabalize. By the time they had the time and money to return, Leona was already long gone. All they knew was that he'd gone to a prestigious school for magic users.
With the responsibility to support the family and continue the family business off their back, they could do whatever they want. And, as can be seen, they chose to pick up a few books from the local library and teach themselves magic, all so that they could meet Leona again.
At this, he is once again rendered speechless. All this time they've been giving their all just to get to him, and what has he been doing? Letting time slip through his fingers like sand? Suddenly he feels very, very small standing in front of them.
But as always, they don't push him away even after all this. Because they know the Leona who's buried under all these layesr: the Leona who's unafraid to speak up for his beliefs, the Leona who looks out for those around him, the Leona who never gives up no matter what. They're sure that he can pick himself up again.
And perhaps, with their hand securely in his once more, he can really try again.
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I feel that it's a bit obvious that the ending is a bit rushed, even though it's supposed to be the 'to lovers' part in the 'childhood friends to lovers' equation. The truth is that my ideas only reached as far as the point where Leona goes to NRC, so the rest I just came up with on the spot. Not to mention this is just roughly how I imagine  the au would go, so there may be plot holes. That being said, here are some other ways the ending could go:
They don't get back together right away, but instead they slowly approach each other again, tip-toeing around each other the whole time. Perhaps they meet when his friend is visiting the botanical garden, because of course they would. Leona is distancing himself a bit cause he doesn't want them to see how he's turned out. But they eventually get familiar with each other again.
Similarly they don't confront each other immediately, but this time Leona's overblot does happen and they show up to stop it. I feel like they'd be disappointed at his ourburst and him using underhanded methods to secure victory, but give them a few scenes and they'll work it out together and Leona will see his faults.
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And now onto a little reflection about this au of mine... it's such a precious brainchild of mine I want to cradle it in my arms until it eventually grows up to be an actual fic. But regretfully I have neither the time nor energy to plot everything out, only scattered ideas as you can see. There are quite a lot of things I want to develop in the story:
obviously the relationship between leona and his childhood friend
relationship between leona and kifaji
leona and farena
leona and his parents
leona's backstory, specifically how he became who he is today 
the theme of trying again and again
the theme of mutual support in a relationship
Juggling all of these and attempting to expand them to each their full potential have been a challenge. There are also other things that stand in the way, such as how to portray Leona in a young age. Personally I have almost zero recollection of my childhood so I can't help but struggle with balancing the helplessness he feels and the naive hope every child possesses.
But all of those aside, at least I'm putting this au out in the world. Maybe one day I'll get around to making it a real thing :) I hope y'all have enjoyed this mess of an au as much as I do!
If you're interested in the stuff that I came up with for this au weeks ago, it is linked below. JUST A HEADS UP: it's unedited and written before the recent event, so there could be inaccuracies. I also don't like how I've made Leona too bitter for a 8 year old. But feel free to read it and give me a few feedback!
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obsolescent · 28 days
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Happy Birthday, Leon
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Pairing: Leon S. Kennedy x Reader
Summary: As Leon’s assistant, you help keep everything organized for him. One day while arranging some papers on Leon’s desk, you stumble across his birthday. Noticing that it’s only a few weeks away, you begin to prepare a surprise celebration for him, unbeknownst to you how Leon feels about said day.
Author’s Notes: Hey! This was not planned, but I was like oh, wow, the day I headcannon as Leon’s birthday is April 1st…Should I? And so I did lol. This follows a few HCs I have for Leon! I couldn’t sleep anyways and needed something to take my mind off some real life issues that’s occurring, hope you enjoy! (I cut it close with this one lol).
Content Warnings: Angst, mention of losing parents, grief, gender neutral language used for reader, Leon and the reader have ties to the southern United States, fluff, Leon healing his inner child.
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Without you around, Leon would surely be running around like a chicken with its head cut off. 
You think about that metaphor and grimace, realizing how dark it actually is. With a shake, you rid your mind of it and resume your task. Leon had to abruptly leave for an important meeting that was called at the last minute. You could hear him bitching about it the whole time while scrambling for the necessary papers for said meeting, and Leon had left his office in complete shambles.
Your smaller office was connected to his, ‘yeah, an office, if you could call it a room even, more like a shoebox,’ and after throwing the door into the wall with a BANG and a rushed “Meeting, be back whenever,” Leon was gone. After settling your heart rate back to its regular rhythm, you had gotten up and checked the wall for any doorknob shaped dents.
Praying to the Lord that the doorstop still does its job after the one thousandth time of being repeatedly smacked, you glanced into his office and stopped. Typically, about once a month you like to help Leon out with his space, straightening things up for him, but this…
‘I don’t know how this man works like this…I can only imagine what his house is like.’
Back in the present and at the task at hand, you start with the papers thrown about the floor, gathering them together. You begin to sort them by the date, noticing that some even have footprints on them! ‘This man…’ you groan, trying to dust the sheets off, only succeeding in smudging the dirt further.
Stacking the documents off to the side, you begin clearing off the top of Leon’s desk, grabbing dirty mugs with old coffee in them and pouring them out in the sink in the kitchenette. You carry a roll of paper towels, disinfectant spray, and a duster back to his office.
Dusting what little trinkets he had on his desk, you run it over his desktop computer and its keyboard. Trying not to apply too much pressure when you start going over the keys, you manage to bump into the mouse, waking the computer from its sleep.
Glancing at the screen, you notice it didn’t lock. ‘He’s like a secret agent or something, right? Why does he not have this locked? Or…Could it be that he doesn't know how to?” You think back on how God awful he is at working any device, having to sometimes ask multiple times a day for help. You let out a puff of air and grin, already thinking about how you’re going to bring it up once he’s back.
Though, something catches your eye on the screen. His personnel file is pulled up.
He isn’t really secretive about his background, more like you never have an opportunity to ask about it. Leon’s mentioned friends and some semblance of a family, and if you try hard enough you can still make out a southern drawl on the tailend of some of his words.
A small peek wouldn’t hurt. 
You bend over, face just a few inches away from the screen, and begin scanning, finding the first one you’re looking for.
‘The southern lilt makes sense now!’ 
Seeing that he comes from a small town, a smile forms on your face, thinking about the stories he could possibly tell you about it, the yapper he is. You store the location into your brain, planning to do your own research later. 
The next one that catches your eye is his date of birth. ‘April Fool’s Day? Oh, poor guy probably got so much shit for that in school. I bet his parents had a hard time convincing their family that he was actually born that day and it wasn’t a prank. Also an Aries, fitting for him’ 
You laugh at your thoughts but freeze, your gaze moving to the small calendar propper up on his desk. 
‘That’s in 3 weeks! Why didn’t he say anything?’
He may not care about it much? Some people, as they get older, don’t hold as much emphasis on things like that. Regardless, you’ll do something for him, it’ll be small and simple, but hopefully it’ll open him up for more discussions about his past, or at least put one of those rare smiles on his face.
You finish cleaning up his office and put away the supplies, brainstorming ideas for the rest of the day.
-
As his birthday gets closer, you sneak in decorations a little at a time, not wanting him to catch onto what you’re planning. The night before the big day, you tell Leon you’ll be staying later to catch up on some paperwork. None the wiser, he nods, going back to his computer screen.
Once he’s left for the day, your plan is set into motion.
You pull out the items stashed in the back of your desk’s drawers, starting with a banner, each letter a different color painted on burlap, spelling out “HAPPY BIRTHDAY”. You tape it to the front of his desk, then move on to the kitchenette. You pull out a tablecover, white with polka dots the same color as the letters on the banner. You set two party hats down on the table, laying out the candles you’ll be putting in his cake–er pie?
Trying nonchalantly to ask about his favorite desserts, he had mentioned he hadn’t had pecan pie in awhile, that it used to be one of his favorites. Thanking your granny for always making one for almost every holiday, you knew that recipe off the top of your head.
You triple checked that it was still in its container in the fridge. ‘It hasn’t grown legs and walked off.’ You giggle at the thought and shut the door, going through the space to check once more on your handiwork. 
Satisfied, you shut the lights off and lock up, a bounce in your step as you walk to your car.
-
You’re up before your alarm screams at you, too excited about today. You head into the office earlier than usual, getting the pie out from the fridge and setting it on the table, sticking the candles in it.
You feel like your body is literally vibrating from excitement, not knowing why you’re so thrilled. 
I mean, yeah you’re throwing a surprise party for Leon, but there’s something else there. Maybe it’s that you get to do something for him? You do feel a bit giddy whenever he thanks you for tidying up his office, his lopsided smile making your own smile turn into a grin.
‘Maybe you have a crush on Leon?”
Oh, it could be that. Dude’s hot, a bit dorky. A flirt, too, even if he doesn’t mean to come off that way. You could see it. You don’t have long to contemplate the thought, hearing his Jeep pull up.
Screaming internally, you rush to grab your party hat and throw it on, turning off the light and moving to stand in the middle of the room.
The door opens with a soft chime. Leon steps into the foyer, muttering, “Why the hell are the lights out?” 
Leon walks into the room and flips the switch, and you scream, “SURPRISE! HAPPY BIRTHDAY, LEON!”
You startled him it seems. Leon jumps back, hand hovering over his side before realizing it’s just you, and his hand drops.
‘Damn, he almost pulled his gun on me, maybe that wasn’t the best idea, next time I definitely won’t–’
“How did you know it was my birthday?”
Snatched from your internal monologue, you stare at him. 
He seems…upset?
“Uh, w-well, back a few weeks ago, I was cleaning your office and saw that your file was pulled up, I happened to glance at your birthdate! Also, it totally makes sense, like, of course you’re an Aries. Athletic, brave, charming, stereotypical and…”
You trail off, your rambling dying off at his hardened expression. 
Leon walks towards you. 
He’s not the tallest man, but with the expression on his face along with his body language, you feel minuscule.
You try to ease the tension in the room, by babbling, of course.
“I made you a pie, pecan! Y-you said you hadn’t had it in awhile, and my family makes a really good one, it’s actually my granny’s recipe–” He holds a hand up to silence you.
He walks back to the front door and locks it, before stalking past you into his office.
“Come in and close the door,” he says cooly.
Dread seeps into you, breathing beginning to pick up. ‘Is he going to fire me?’
You take a deep breath and release, turning and walking into his space, closing the door behind you.
You sit in the loveseat in front of his desk. It seems like the banner stares you down as well, seemingly mocking you in this turn of events.
He sits down in his chair and leans back, chin in his hand while he stares off to the side.
You stare at your lap, hands sweaty as you wring them. 
“You have no idea why I don’t celebrate it.” 
Your eyes dart up to look at him, but he’s still staring off, but his expression looks softer now.
You think he’s talking out loud, so you don’t answer, looking down once more. 
“My parents died when I was younger. After they were gone, no one threw me any parties. No more gifts, no more cakes. I couldn't even tell the other kids because they thought I was lying about the date. So I stopped celebrating it. Kept it to myself, until now.”
Your heart hurts for him. The pain behind his words are evident.
“I’m so sorry, Leon,” you blurt out, unable to hold back the wave of emotions, “You deserve to have a happy birthday, with cakes and gifts and all, surrounded by those who care for and love you. I just wanted it to be a good day for you, I didn’t mean to bring back such awful memories.”
You’re a mess, the horrible feeling of guilt filling you, your eyes red with unshed tears. You rise from your seat and walk around to him, and Leon stands up on instinct.
You don’t even care if this isn’t professional at this point. You wrap your arms around his waist and embrace him, your tear soaked face soaking into his button up.
He says your name, “It’s okay, you didn’t know,” he tries to comfort you as best as he can, going to pat your head and disturbs the streamers around the edges of the party hat you’re still wearing. You gasp and pull back, ripping it off and tossing it to the ground.
You apologize again, making your way towards the desk to pull the banner down. You’re pulling the tape off the corner when Leon’s hand stops you.
“Hey.”
Leon says softly, his fingers grasping your wrist, tugging your hand away. 
“You said I deserve to have a happy birthday, don’t I?” He asks, and you jerk your head in a nod, “Of course, yeah.”
He smiles, “Well, there’s always today, it’s still my big day, ain’t it?” 
He walks over and picks up the hat up off the floor, holding it out to you.
“Let’s start with that pie, I’m starvin’.”
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avocado-writing · 7 months
Note
Omggg i hear your requests are open again??? Yayyy so excited so excited. I’ve been thinking ab smth angsty with Crowley where the reader has serious abandonment issues and Crowley accidentally triggers them. I would love it to be angsty but fluffy at the end bc I don’t want Crol to be sad :(
Tysm and i hope you have a fucking great week💕✨
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notes: a phenomenal meme, thank you. I hope reader seems in character enough for abandonment issues!
pairing: crowley x reader
rating: T
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He’s gone, and you’re worried it’s forever.
He’s had to go and do some work. Some demon work. When the two of you properly began getting together he had to tell you about his true nature; you were surprised and secretly a bit thrilled because, well, how many people have a demon in love with them? It made you feel very special indeed. And Crowley does love you so very deeply, you’ve never had a love like it before. Which made it sting all the worse when he had to go.
You were bickering about him leaving. He had to go to bloody Spain to perform some sort of temptation, and he knew you couldn’t get the time off work to come with him. You were begging him to stay, he was insisting he couldn’t, and as neither of you could see the other’s point of view voices began to get raised. It ended with him leaving you in your flat, slamming the door behind him in frustration.
You’ve not seen him for a week. It’s been driving you mad. He’s gone, hasn’t he? He’s gone forever. Just like every other person who’s walked into your life with claims that they love you only to disappear when things got difficult. You are unloveable, you are not worthy of anyone’s time. You do not deserve to experience anything other than heartbreak.
When he comes home he knows he’ll need to apologise. It doesn’t come easily to Crowley, admitting that he’s wrong, but he’ll find a way to force it out of himself for your sake. He shouldn’t have left how he did. It was unkind. Petty. A relationship shouldn’t be about trying to get the last word in an argument, and he feels very small indeed.
He knocks at the door to your flat and, when it isn’t answered, he miracles the lock open and walks in. Maybe he can get started on dinner. Maybe coming home to the smell of cooking and him being all grovelly will make things better.
This plan is stopped in its tracks when he finds you curled up in a blanket on the sofa. You look terrible. Tired, miserable, and ever so small. You take one look at him and recoil.
“What do you –”
“I’m sorry,” Crowley says. It’s not forced or uncomfortable as it usually is when he’s made to apologise, but sincere. An apology is not a plaster, though, and you still look raw and wounded as he sits on the opposite end of the couch. You wince as he reaches out to touch you.
“I thought you weren’t coming back,” is all the explanation that you can muster.
“Oh, darling. I’m…” he wracks his brain for something that’s a suitable apology, but can come up with nothing better than another “I’m sorry.”
Tears begin to fall down your cheeks and you seem furious at them, wiping them away with the edge of your blanket, but still unable to get them to stop.
“I thought you were done with me. That you hated me.”
“Come here,” says Crowley, bundling you in his arms and pulling you onto his lap. You cry a little, at him, at yourself, at being so stupid. “I don’t hate you. I’d never hate you. I think it’s impossible, actually. I was just being a twat. I’ll even do the dance if you want me to.”
You laugh into his shirt and he’s relieved.
“No, keep that dance for Aziraphale. I think he’d be annoyed if he found out you did it for me.”
You look into his eyes, and he moves his sunglasses up so he can meet your gaze properly.
“Don’t leave me,” you whisper, voice trembling a little.
“I won’t. I swear.”
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Taglist: @angiestopit @dazed-soul @foolishprincipalitee @smile-eywa @staygoldsquatchling02 @underratedboogeyman @specter-soltare @cool-ontherun-world @emilynissangtr @willbedecided @cool-iguana @this--is--music @ilyatan @lxsm2 @clarina04@wtfhasmy-lifecometo @mrgatotortuga@wereallbrokenangels @night-affiliate @kimqueenofhell @chewbrry @bajablast23 @h3k3t @am-i-obsessed---maybe @bakerstreethound
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rootsofdread · 4 months
Note
YAHHH another scientist surv thing!!
How about that -- Blight, Singularity and Dredge with a scientist surv, who strives to understand what they are and how they work no matter the consequences??? Following them around, tinkering in their things, asking around, trying to start a personal conversation, and all that, ykyk
Who tf needs to survive when there's shit to discover?
🦞 mmmmmonsterkillers
FIRST SINGO REQUEST!!! i was very happy to fill this out because i love writing jerk ass meanieheads lol <3333
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Talbot Grimes / The Blight:
Talbot has seen you quietly taking notes from afar. He wasn’t sure how you’d gotten your hands on a pen and a pad, but he was sure you were after the formula for his serum. He believed this and specifically hunted you down for quite a while, finding you following him around only adding credence to his theory, until he overheard you asking one of your teammates about him. 
They were pretty mundane, yet probing questions; who was he before, what sort of work he did, what did they think happened back then? Then, he wasn’t sure what to think. Sure, you still could’ve been after something of his…but those questions felt much more specific. Aimed at his person, rather than his work. He had to think about this…
He started to notice you hanging around him more and more often. He still wasn’t exactly sure what your angle was, what exactly you were trying to find out, but he became more comfortable thinking you were more interested in him. You didn’t seem to care about his work, only your own, and whatever he was doing at the time. As long as you’re not after the formula for his serum, he doesn’t think he has to be bothered by you, and he doesn’t ask questions. He can respect a fellow scientist’s work. Perhaps, especially, if that scientist is interested in him…
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The Dredge:
Dredge was always curious as to why you were so interested in it. Well, it figured the reason why was probably because of the way it…looks. But no one had been so persistent before, nor had anyone else tried to rifle through the things it had collected…it was very confused about your motives, to say the least. But it appreciated having the company, you could tell it was happy whenever it knew you were following it around.
Though it tended to follow you around, too, sort of like a lost puppy; there were times it had lost you, and it often found you asking your teammates about it. Like what exactly it was, and what does it do with the people it captures? — At first, it had assumed you were asking around because you were scared of it. Maybe it had been wrong, you didn’t want to be friends…you were just keeping an eye on it out of fear. But as it kept listening to you asking more and more questions (not exactly getting answers, though), it realized you were just interested in its life and what it was. It lit up and jumped out of the locker at you.
It loves having a survivor hanging around that actually was interested in it. Someone that wanted to know more about it…! It’s often very exciting and loves demonstrating its powers to you, often teleporting in front of you or letting you watch it absorb someone into its fog. It can’t communicate very well, so it hopes that its efforts provide enough results for you.
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HUX-A7-13 / The Singularity:
Right from the get-go, HUX really doesn’t appreciate having a puny little worm following him around and trying to stick their nose into his work. Something as insignificant as you wouldn’t even be able to comprehend his work, after all — so what do you think you’re doing!? He always catches you spying on him from afar, and every time he does, he sets off after you immediately. Perhaps if you’re so interested in what he’s doing, you’d like to experience it first-hand!
He has frequently heard you trying to discuss him with your teammates. He is always quick to put a stop to it, of course, but the last few times he’s decided to let you talk, and he’s listened quietly. He’s been surprised to hear you asking your teammates about…himself. What is he made out of, who made him, what happened to him. What were all these questions for…?
He decided to confront you about it. A direct approach is always strategically appropriate for getting what you desire. He walked up behind you, pulled you up the collar of your shirt and asked you what exactly you’re doing asking about him. After you explain that you just want to know what and who he is, he promptly puts you back down on the ground. He isn’t sure how to react, and he just kind of twitches around for a moment, but he gives you a quick — almost approving — glance before leaving to terrorize someone else. It would seem you’ve gotten through to his cold, synthetic heart.
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xxsycamore · 5 months
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Can you do Mozart & wet dreams?
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Träumerei
╰┈➤ Mozart has never allowed himself as much as to think of her romantically. Strangely, his most recent dreams are all but lascivious, and twice as confusing. träumerei [noun, german] - dreaming
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Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart x MC • rating: E (MDNI) • tags: Wet Dream; Mutual Pining; Feelings Realization; Denial of Feelings; Love Confessions; Miscommunication; Fainting; Hand & Finger Kink; Vanilla; Dream Sex; Ambiguous/Open Ending • wordcount: 1,104 • masterlist
• Welcome to my personal kinktober challenge, Visions of Temptation 2022 - that’s right, 2022. You can find the new one, Visions of Temptation 2023, here. DAY 3: WET DREAM
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"Mozart… Mozart, touch me more with your hands, please…!"
It would be too easy, the composer muses in his thoughts, but he can't find it in himself to deny and tease her anymore. It warms him from the inside when she craves him so, his hands, his touch, so much that she's writhing underneath him. But when she lets out these beautiful moans, the spark of warmth blooms into a consuming fire.
"You love it so much when I touch you. You don't need to beg me. If you want me to touch you, then undress and show me where you need to be touched."
***
"No, that's all wrong. Did you not pay attention when I showed you? Here. Look."
Deft fingers dancing on the piano keys, Mozart repeats the chords with ease in yet another demonstration. His gaze moves on her even before the last notes can fill the air, making sure she's paying attention this time.
Even if it does things to his head, being this close to her.
Given that she was in his dreams just last night. Dreams that were not so innocent...
"I did, it's just… it seems like I was watching you play the piano, and not the notes you play. Tehee…"
His hands. He's not the type to seek eye contact, but more often than he catches her looking back, he catches her looking at his hands.
***
"I want more…I need more, please…please, Wolf!"
It catches him by surprise, how naturally it came out of her mouth. In contrast, her face is burning, gaze not as bold as her tongue, making him want to rain kisses on her hot cheeks. She needs to understand how happy she just made him.
He keeps moving inside her, gently removing the hands she tries to hide her face with. He needs to make love to her more, to give her more until she's pliant and spent and satisfied in his arms.
"You finally said my name." Betraying his own wishes, Mozart finds more appealing spots to press his lips against other than her face. Her neck, where her blood pumps in a rhythmic pulse; the metronome telling him to play her like a melody; to eat her one fang-filled bite at a time. "Keep saying it. I want to hear you say it more."
***
"Where do you want me to put those, Wolf?--Oh! I m-mean, Mozart! I'm so sorry. I didn’t mean to sound disrespectful! It just slipped out and-"
Something he didn't expect to hear outside those dreams that haunt him. Just an accident. Merely a slip of the tongue.
"That's fine, don't apologize. Are you okay? You're shaking."
She puts down the folded sheets where Mozart points her to, hurrying to find anything else to keep her hands busy with and mask some of that trembling. While nervously tucking a strand of hair behind her ear, she unknowingly barrens her nape for Mozart's gaze.
"Yeah, I'm fine, I just…couldn't sleep well last night."
"Me too. Be careful not to overwork yourself."
***
"Wolf… I actually… have feelings for you-…No that's awful! Too straight to the point. Ugh. Wolf, I…."
Listening in disbelief, Mozart is overtaken by all sorts of emotions. Her confession came out of nowhere. But she's so finicky about getting it right, she just keeps saying it again and again.
"The truth is, ever since I came to the mansion, I found myself attracted to you and before I knew it… I was truly in love. I grew up with your music, and hearing it has always soothed me in times of- Nonono, what am I thinking? I grew up with it? I'm definitely not saying that part!"
And from finding himself embarrassed, Mozart now finds himself letting out chuckles he can't control, so much unlike him. His heart feels so light, glowing with the newly discovered reciprocation of his feelings.
"I knew that already… you were being pretty obvious, you know. To think that I doubted it still… Hurry up and settle on your confession so I could make mine, would you?"
***
Today she's nowhere to be seen, and for good. Downing another cup of coffee, Mozart hopes he could drown those pestering, illogical feelings in the bitter liquid along with what remains of his sleepiness. Concentrating on his work has never been this hard and he hates it; the sound of ruckus coming from downstairs joining in the cacophony of distractions until he gets up from his desk and goes to check it for himself.
He sees her then, unconscious in the arms of another man who luckily broke her fall. Somebody answers Mozart's horrified gaze with a brief reassurance that she'd most likely overworked herself and it's nothing any more serious than that. The residents are shocked when it's none other than the composer himself who insists he'll take care of her and carry her to her room.
It's maybe on the way there when he realizes, or maybe it's when he finds himself tucking her in under the covers.
Her room, that is adjacent to his.
Her bed, which is positioned in a way that is mirrored to his own, with only a thin wall separating the headboards.
His keen ear as a composer. One thin wall…
"M-Mozart…"
Her glossy eyes stare at him under heavy lids, gradually widening as if in disbelief.
"Idiot, you're going to work yourself to death. How long has it been since you last had an adequate amount of sleep?"
He's no good scolding for this with those most likely noticeable dark circles under his eyes, alas.
"Alright, alright, I'll rest! I'm closing my eyes the second you go through that door! Jeez…Hey Mozart?"
"Yes?"
"Thank you for— Are you okay? Your face is red…"
It's funny how fast the tables turn when her hand touches his forehead in an utmost caring manner, and Mozart has to remind that she might be too warm herself to accurately check for him. And judging by the way she has the energy to frown and bark at him, it must be okay now for him to take his leave.
"I'm right nextdoor if you need anything."
"I know where your room is, Mozart…!"
"And one more thing." He keeps his hand on the doorknob, turning his head to look her in the eye one more time. "Next time you have trouble sleeping because there's something on your mind, just come see me."
The only answer he gets is a shy nod that comes after a rather long pause. And it's satisfying enough of an answer.
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Taglist: @arsnovacadenza @ale-teodora @kimi00twin @otomelady @privilegedpancake @g-kleran    @pumpumnnnp @thesirenwashere @ravenarld @kimmy-banana @devonares @galaxyprison @sadshaxk @starshards26 @thewitchofbooks @acethephoenix256 @ikevamp-shrine-2 @nad-zeta @crystal13unny @lordsister @ikemen-banshou   @themysticalbeing @otome-scribbles @rhodolitesrose @coornn @kpop-and-otome @queen-dahlia @kisara-16 @chaosangel767 @ikemenlibrary @queengiuliettafirstlady @aurora-morning @aquagirl1978 ​ @ikemenlover24 @mcofthemansion @joy-the-reader @katriniac @ikemen-writer @tele86 @lovely-bubb1es @aria-chikage @babyblue0t7 @rhodoliteschaos @shrimpy-kitsune @nightghoul381 @xbalayage @lucyw260 @kittygrimm88 @lokis-laugh @ndoandou Let me know if you want to be tagged/untagged!
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luminnara · 2 years
Text
Obsession | Billy Loomis x Reader Part 2
Billy is obsessed with the reader and doesn’t know whether he wants to fuck you or kill you. Little does he know that there’s more to you than meets the eye...
Billy x GN!reader 
(I actually got some of the inspo for this from behind the mask: the rise of leslie vernon lol)
Part one!
Warnings: glorification of serial killing lol
Tags: @natiebug1 @henhouse-horrors @smenny @aceislivid
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Billy Loomis thought that he was the scariest person in town. He thought that he was the most dangerous. He thought that, besides Stu, he was the most fucked up. 
Billy Loomis was wrong.
Because not that long ago, someone new had moved to Woodsboro. Someone who was just as fucked up as Billy, and who had already done a lot of the things that he and Stu were planning on…except that you had done your killing and then dipped, moving to a new town where nobody would suspect a thing.
When you had seen Billy Loomis for the first time, you had noticed something about him. It was something familiar, something that you recognized in yourself as well…and it got you a little curious. So you started watching him, always careful, always only out of the corner of your eye from an unassuming position across the field or the cafeteria. At first, you thought you were just being paranoid, still riding the high of your last couple kills in Santa Cruz.
But then, you noticed him watching you, and you knew you were right. Billy Loomis was a killer—or at least, had the potential to be one—and he was drawn to you for the same reason you were drawn to him.
You were the same. You were capable of killing, and you did. Or…wanted to. You weren’t sure if he had already, though you were willing to be that he had at least thought about it. Maybe he had planned something out. Maybe he was too busy stalking you to kill anyone.
Or maybe he was going to kill you.
You wondered if he would be able to. You’d been face to face with death so many times that it wouldn’t surprise you if Billy took a stab at you. Nobody had managed it so far, but you had seen the desperation in their eyes, the way that they tended to go absolutely feral in their last moments of life. You had seen more than a couple people who wanted nothing more than to turn the tables and murder you for a change.
Still, despite the possibility that Billy Loomis wanted to gut you like a fish, you weren’t too worried about him. You started up a boring daily routine with the hope that he would learn it and then use it to his advantage. You hoped that he would memorize your movements and then pop out at you one day, or come slithering through your window before you closed it at night. You hoped Billy would try something with you, because as you had watched him and he had watched you, you’d sort of…grown fond of him? Come to like him, almost? You were amused and curious, and you left him plenty of openings to come say hello.
And then the days dragged on and they turned into weeks, and you got sick of waiting. You took it upon yourself to address the elephant in the room, and all your weeks of boredom and domesticity and not murdering people were suddenly worth it just for the shocked look on his face. He really had no idea that you’d been watching him, and it was just as sad as it was adorable.
The next day at school, he was openly staring at you. You watched his head swivel as you walked past him and his friends, and you saw Stu Macher notice and look at you, too. Then, you heard his girlfriend hit his arm and yell at him for ogling you, and you chuckled to yourself.
Boys.
Billy hadn’t expected to find a note in his locker that day, but he knew who it was from the second he saw it.
Swing by tonight.
He knew it was from you, and he was equal parts pissed off and curious, because he still had no idea what your deal is, and he still had no idea if he wanted to kill you for fucking with him or fuck you for fucking with him.
So he did. He blew Stu off, and he climbed the usual tree by the usual window at the usual time. Instead of sitting on your bed or at your desk like usual, though, you were sitting on the window frame, one leg dangling along the side of the house as you leaned your head back and enjoyed the California night.
“You got my note,” you commented, cracking an eye open when you heard him.
“What the fuck is your deal?” He asked haughtily, climbing along the branch like a cautious animal.
“Are you mad at me, Billy?”
“Should I be?” He growled. “I’m not in the mood for any games. Tell me what your fucking problem is, or I’ll…I’ll…”
“You’ll what?” You raised an eyebrow. “Kill me?”
He stared at you in silence, almost shocked that you had said it so openly. “…yeah.”
“I doubt that, Billy Loomis.”
“Quit saying my name.”
“Why?”
“Because I don’t like it.” He lied.
You decided to change the subject.
“Have you actually killed anybody yet?” You asked, as casually as someone would ask about the weather.
Billy Loomis stared at you. “Excuse me?”
“You can tell me. I’m just curious.” You shrugged. “You seem like the type.”
“What the hell is that supposed to mean?” He snapped, his hackles rising as he considered throttling you right then and there.
“Do you want to kill me right now?” Your voice was amused, and Billy didn’t know what to think of that. “You could try, if you want. We could see who wins.”
“…you’re insane.” He decided.
“Says the guy who’s been stalking me.”
“Why did you tell me to come over?” He growled. “Give me a real answer, or I’m fucking leaving.”
“Because I wanted to talk.” You hopped down from the window, landing barefoot on the plush carpet in your bedroom. “You can come in.”
He just stared.
“…or not. That’s fine too.” You rolled your eyes. “I just wanted to show you why you can trust me.”
Billy watched you. 
It was a trap. It had to be a trap. This was way too weird not to be. He didn’t know why someone would suspect him of anything, not when Cotton Weary was behind bars and nobody was the wiser about his and Stu’s little rendezvous with Sidney Prescott’s mother the year before, but this was way too suspicious.
“Come on,” you said, tossing your head. “It’s cool. I promise. You can stab me if it isn’t.”
“…you are the weirdest person I have ever fucking met.” He said, crawling along the branch until he could hop in through your window anyways. He had a knife in his pocket.
He figured he would be fine.
The smile you offered him was genuine. “Wow. I honestly thought it would be harder to get you in here.”
“Shut up and show me whatever the fuck you wanna show me,” he snapped.
“You’re cute when you’re mad,” you smiled as you turned towards your bedroom door. “You’ve never seen the rest of the house have you?”
“…only the parts I could see you from.” He admitted, following you hesitantly.
You snorted a laugh. “So you’ve only seen the parts of the house that we want you to see.”
“…we?”
You reached back for his hand and he allowed you to grab it, his fingers cautiously intertwining with yours. “Yeah. Me and my family.”
He immediately stiffened, trying to pull away, but you held onto him. 
“Don’t worry. They’re all out having fun.” you said bitterly. “We’re the only ones home right now.”
Billy still didn’t trust you, but he stayed silent. He knew he could take you if it came down to a struggle, and if you started it, he’d even have a real self-defense excuse. 
You led him down the stairs and turned towards what looked like a hall closet. “So...this is pretty special, alright? I’m really not supposed to be showing anybody this, but I trust you. So don’t go telling everybody in town, got it?”
He gave you a skeptical, almost uninterested look. “Whatever. You gonna show me whatever it is or not?”
“So impatient,” you clucked your tongue, letting go of his hand and reaching into your pocket. You pulled out a key, slipping it into the keyhole and opening the door before taking a step to the side so he could get a good look.
What you revealed actually took Billy’s breath away. 
He was staring at a small closet, the walls painted a deep red and covered in...things. Newspaper clippings, weapons, weird, grotesque masks...and an odd assortment of other items, things that looked totally unrelated, things like necklaces and wallets and--was that a fucking finger?
“Yeahhhhh, that’s one of my brother’s trophies,” you said, noticing Billy’s eyes lingering on it. “He’s kinda...gross.”
He stared for another moment before turning to look at you. “What the hell is all this?”
You shrugged. “Mementos. Trophies. They’re from all over. We move around a lot, y’know?”
His eyes were wide as he began putting two and two together. “There’s no fucking way.”
“What do you mean?” you asked innocently. 
“No fucking way this is real.”
“Don’t you watch scary movies?” you laughed. “I thought you were into this stuff. It’s kinda...the family business, I guess.”
Billy’s mouth twitched with the beginnings of a smile. 
Okay.
He liked you, after all. 
“Can you, uh...” he cleared his throat, trying to keep his cool and not totally geek out. “Tell me about everything?”
You beamed at him. “I would love to, Billy Loomis.”
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avacoleman · 3 months
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when the lights go out || a firstprince fic
summary: Henry Fox’s career is in crisis and his dating life isn’t faring much better either.  After a chance encounter with a charming man becomes memorable for all the wrong reasons, Henry throws himself into his next assignment: writing the memoir of a beloved C-list actor. Henry, however, knows Alex best for the role he played as his random, awkward one-night stand. Henry enters their professional partnership keen on keeping their relationship just that. But after Henry confesses that their hookup was less than spectacular, Alex concots an arrangement that Henry is unable to resist. In addition to ghostwriting Alex’s life story, Henry will teach him a thing or two about satisfying a man.  As they spend months out on the road together, they must decide if the connection between them is yet another story worth telling.
chapter 4/8 || rated e || read on ao3 *updates every tues. and fri. *
Denver, CO Rocky Mountain Expo Henry thanks the powers that be for allowing Pez to crash the tour for the next two days. And by that, he means he cannot thank Alex enough for arranging for Pez to join them at Rocky Mountain Expo in Denver. He figures it might’ve been him mentioning one too many times how much of a Crescent Valley fan Pez was that Alex perhaps took pity and worked some magic behind the scenes to get him to fly out. Whatever it is, Henry is immensely grateful. He hadn’t realized just how much he missed Pez’s presence. Certainly they’d kept up well with FaceTimes and texts over the last few weeks, but there’s nothing quite like genuine face to face connection with a person– especially when that someone is none other than Percy Okonjo. At his side now, Henry watches Pez drink it all in. The convention center, like every other stop so far, is brimming with people from all sorts of fandoms. It’s chaotic and exciting, all baselines for a guy like Pez.  Alex had left from their hotel earlier than Henry so that he could attend the scheduled fan breakfast and Henry could be available to get Pez sorted. It’s such a small thing, but it was almost as strange being apart from Alex this morning as it has been to be away from Pez these past couple of weeks. Henry hadn't realized just how dependent he’d grown on Alex’s company.
Henry’s phone buzzes in his pocket as he and Pez visit different vendors in Artist Alley where creatives sell their custom made pieces. He takes a look at the screen and sees a text from Alex.
Alex everything going well with you and pez?
Henry smiles and notes the time. There’s still thirty minutes before Alex’s panel and having the experience firsthand, he can just imagine Alex behind the scenes, keeping busy to work out his excited energy.
Henry Indeed. Would it be alright if I brought him round to meet you now? Or would after be better?
Alex now pls!
“We’re being summoned,” Henry says, pocketing his phone again. 
Pez doesn’t need any more prompting and Henry leads them through the crowds to get to the hall Alex’s panel is being held. He’s surprised but pleased to find Alex already waiting for them by a private set of doors. Henry’s heart does a funny little swoop seeing Alex standing there, greeting them with a smile.
“Alex. I wanted you to meet Pez.”
Alex beams his thousand-watt smile at Pez.
“I feel like I already know you. Henry talks about you all the time. Nothing but good things, I promise,” he says.
Pez looks more and more like the Cheshire Cat as his smile overtakes his face.
“Alex Claremont-Diaz, as I live and breathe,” Pez says in a scarily good Southern debutante accent.
“You’ll have to forgive Pez. He has consumed far too much American media from the time he was a small, impressionable child. I fear the damage cannot be undone.”
Alex laughs. “It’s paid off pretty well. That sounded authentic as hell. You could give me a run for my money.”
Pez, unshakable formidable Pez, actually giggles at the compliment.
“You’re a charmer. Go on now. Keep saying more nice things. I won’t object.”
Henry watches them go, riffing off each other as if they’ve known each other forever. It feels like Henry has entered into an alternate universe of some kind, watching his worlds collide.
“I’m sure you guys must’ve made plans, but if you’re interested, I’d love to take y’all out for dinner tonight,” Alex says.
Pez’s eyes light up. “I’m sure we could shuffle a few things around,” he says, looking at Henry for confirmation. He nods and Pez smiles.
“We’d be delighted. Dinner sounds positively lovely. Thank you,” Pez continues.
Henry turns to Alex. “We could all meet back in the hotel lobby at quarter to 7 perhaps?”
Alex nods. “Yeah, that’d be great. Things should be pretty hectic at the expo today. I’ll look into making reservations nearby afterwards."
Voices carry a bit louder from inside the hall.
"I should probably get back," Alex says. "But have fun you guys and enjoy the panel. Pez, it was really nice meeting you. I will absolutely be expecting a truckload of embarrassing stories and any overall dirt you might have on Henry, so start brainstorming now,” he says with a wink.
 Henry already rues turning them into co-conspirators.
Pez smiles and wiggles his fingers at Alex before he leaves them to head to the greenroom. The moment Alex rounds the corner, Pez does an unseemly victory dance right there in the corridor.
“How can you possibly stand being around him all day every day without wanting to jump his bones? He’s even more attractive in person. That’s just unnatural. Dare I say, it’s supernatural.”
Henry touches his hand to his forehead.
“Come on. Let’s go grab our seats. They’ll be starting shortly.”
~*~*~
The secret of his true dynamic with Alex haunts Henry like a tell-tale heart. Each time Pez mentioned Alex’s name after the panel and now back here in their hotel room, Henry feels as if he could choke on the secret.
“I’ve hit rock bottom,” he says, apropos of nothing as he and Pez watch an episode of Crescent Valley on his laptop in bed.
“Welcome! There’s plenty of room down here,” Pez says, yanking Henry to rest his head in his lap. “Come now, tell Auntie Pezza what ails you, my darling.”
Henry sighs and hits the spacebar, freezing the show. It’s a small mercy that it isn’t a scene with Alex. He’s not so sure he’d be able to get through this conversation with Alex’s face right there in front of them.
“I think I’ve made a mistake.”
Pez’s fingers scratch lightly against Henry’s scalp.
“My dear Henry, you’re a writer. I need you to put your fancy degree to good use and elaborate for me, love.”
Henry looks away, unable to maintain eye contact for what he’s about to say.
“Part of me is falling for someone that I shouldn’t. Maybe ‘falling for’ is a bit too much. I need more time to parse it, but I feel…different sometimes.”
Pez’s hand stops combing through his hair.
“Hang on now. You haven’t met anyone new recently that I know of. I mean, there’s that secret midnight hookup back in New York and of course, scrumptious Alex. The latter would be bonkers, but it can’t be the former. You never got his info.”
Henry bites back on his lower lip. Pez is so close to the mark.
“That’s not exactly true. I sort of…ran into him the next day.”
“Have you any Advil here? I swear you’re giving me a headache talking in riddles like this. You had lunch with Alex the next day and then came straight home, no?”
Pez’s eyes grow wide, realization sinking in. Henry sits up and not a moment too soon as Pez’s hands fly to his mouth and he muffles a scream.
“No! Oh, my god, wait. No. There’s just no way! You don’t mean to say…Alex is Javier?”
Henry looks down at his hands, suddenly very fascinated with them.
“Well, now, that just shattered all my illusions. Pity he wasn’t good in bed. As fit as he is…hmm.”
“He wasn’t good that first night, no. But since then…”
“Since then! ” Pez shrieks, completely scandalized. “Grab the smelling salts! Get me a lounge chair! I’m going to pass out, I swear it. This is simply too much for me to take,” he says, putting a hand over his heart.
Pez shakes his head almost cartoonishly.
“Do you mean to tell me you two have been shagging this whole time?”
“Not the whole time,” Henry says reflexively. “Look, Pez, you cannot say a word to anyone, do you understand?”
Pez’s face grows serious, all his theatrics subsiding at the drop of a hat. 
“I give you my word. You know that. I wouldn’t tell a soul.”
Henry nods. “No, I know. I’m sorry,” he says, rubbing anxiously at his temple. “I’m just…there’s so much riding on this, you know? The book, my contract. Most importantly though, he’s only out to his friends and family right now. This isn’t even my secret to tell. But, heavens, Pez, I feel like I’ve been dying keeping this in. Things are so good with us. I’ve been loving being on this tour.”
“Well, I should think so,” Pez says, smirking a little. “If I were spending my nights tangled in the sheets with none other than Alex Claremont-Diaz, I’d be having the time of my already fabulous life too.”
Henry shoves him gently.
“You’re horrible, but I’ll admit, that’s been an added bonus. But honestly? I simply like being around him. He’s clever and funny and smart and infuriating in the best ways at times…I don’t know. It’s been fun getting to know him.”
Pez’s brows furrow a bit.
“Are you sure you can handle this, Hazza? It actually does sound an awful lot like you’re falling pretty hard here. I assume you two have struck up a deal of some sort with guidelines?”
“It’s just casual. Platonic even. I’m merely giving him pointers in the bedroom and by the time I leave from the tour, that’ll be the end of that. We’ll both move on from this,” Henry says.
Pez doesn’t look entirely convinced. 
“I don’t think you can put a hard deadline on feelings. No offense, but casual has never quite been your factory setting.”
Henry shakes his head. “It’s fine. This is so unlike me. I’m only being silly now, getting swept up in the secrecy of it all.”
Pez grins. “That I can understand. This is terribly salacious. I’m eating it up with a bib and a spoon.”
Pez hums and taps his chin. “Now, let’s back it up just a taste for one moment, honey. When you say he’s improved since New York…”
Henry buries his face in his hands and groans.
“Oh, come on! You’ve got to give me something here,” Pez insists. “You’ve been sitting on an absolute treasure trove of a secret for weeks now!”
Henry looks up and takes a deep breath.
“He…takes instructions very well. He’s a rather quick and adept learner. An enthusiastic one at that.”
Pez’s smile grows even wider which Henry didn’t think was humanly possible.
“I’d absolutely hate you if I didn’t love you so much. I’m dying. Good on you though.”
Henry laughs at the absurdity of Pez’s praise.
“Anyway, I needed to tell someone before I popped, so thank you for indulging me.”
“No, no. Thank you, my dear, for this cup of delicious, piping hot tea. I’m all the more excited for dinner now, to get to know the kitten who has gotten my best friend so smitten.”
~*~*~
After an incredible dinner at one of the trendiest restaurants Henry has ever been to, Pez insists they keep the night going with drinks downtown. It’s truly a marvel to see how easily his best friend is able to be at home anywhere, even a place he’s only now visiting for the first time.
From the moment they entered the club, Pez took his place on the dancefloor like a king holding court among his subjects. He dances with perfectly good strangers, cozying up to a few of them. Henry is already wondering if he’ll have to arrange to sleep elsewhere tonight.
He shakes his head to himself as he reaches for his drink where he and Alex sit in a corner booth, away from the crowd but with a perfect view to see it all.
“You told Pez about us,” Alex says out of the blue, a statement not a question.
Henry bites nervously on his bottom lip, stunned. He thinks back to dinner. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary. He actually thought Pez did a good job of hiding the fact that he was in on the secret. Yet still, Alex clearly picked up on something.
“I did. I’m sorry. I promise, he wouldn’t tell anyone. Subtly may not be his strong suit,” he says, glancing over Pez with his bubblegum pink hair and flashy sequined jacket, an all-out blur on the dancefloor, “but discretion is. He knows you aren’t out. He’d never in a million years breathe a word of any of this.”
Alex nods and smiles. “If you trust him, so do I. Honestly, I’m not worried. In all fairness, I told my sister and Nora.”
Henry can’t even begin to absorb that information or the possible implications of it. It’s just enough to know that this dynamic between them felt worthwhile enough for Alex to tell the two closest people to him.
“And do they think us mad for this?”
“Actually, no. They damn near threw me a party,” Alex says, reaching for his beer and laughing to himself.  “Your fan club increased by two automatically.”
Henry lifts a brow. “Am I to assume you’re a member too?”
“Sweetheart, I’m the president. The founding member.”
Henry smiles demurely and shakes his head. 
“Once again, I must say, you do wonders for my self-esteem. Thank you.”
Alex eyes him curiously.
“Can I ask you something?”
“Of course,” Henry says. “What’s on your mind?”
“How the fuck are you single? Not that I’m actually complaining because, selfishly, there’s no way in hell we’d be able to do any of the things we’ve been doing since New York. I’m counting my lucky stars and all that jazz, but still. It’s absolutely crazy to me that you aren’t seeing anyone. I’m sure that’s a conscious choice on your part. It’s got to be. A guy like you wouldn’t have any issues finding a boyfriend if you wanted one.”
Henry rubs the back of his neck.
“I don’t know what it is. Perhaps I’m too closed off.”
“Bullshit. The night we met, you opened up to me. You were so easy to talk to. I felt like I’d always known you.”
This brings Henry up short. He’d felt that same connection with Alex too, but to hear the man echo the sentiment almost identically to how he’d thought about it is slightly disorienting.
“I think we’ve established that night was a special case. It was different with you. I was different with you than I normally am with literally every other guy I’ve pursued. I don’t know why. I just felt comfortable so it was easy, for the first time in God only knows how long to open up. It was a fluke.”
“Or fate,” Alex says. His eyes widen and he blinks twice quickly. “I’m like…I’m not trying to say we’re soulmates or anything,” he stammers. “I just mean, I don’t know. It’s rare for me too to click with someone like that. I think there’s something to be said for two people like us just happening across each other then crossing paths again the very next day. What are the odds of that?”
Henry is quiet as he mulls over Alex’s words. 
“I don’t mean to freak you out. Shit, just forget I said anything.”
Henry shakes his head.
“You didn't. I think you might actually have a point and I don’t know what to make of it.”
He searches Alex's eyes then looks away, back down to his laptop.
“Anyway, to answer your question, I suppose I’m single because it simply isn’t my time right now. I’ve never truly been lucky in that department. Our night aside, I really do have a tendency to guard myself.”
“Why?” Alex asks. “There’s so much good in there. I could see it on day one. That’s what drew me to you in the first place.”
“So it wasn’t just my dashing good looks and accent?”
Alex cocks his head to the side and gives him a look.
“I’m serious. I’ve been seeing it ever since. You’re depriving people, Henry. Most of all, yourself and I think that’s the worst part in all of this. It’d be a shame to never share that.”
Henry’s brows furrow. In a way, hadn’t he been letting Alex in this whole time? Henry realizes belatedly that maybe it didn’t count. After all, none of this was actually real. 
If only his heart knew that.
“Shall I get us another round?” he says, rising from his seat, suddenly needing to be away from this suffocating booth.
Alex runs a hand through his hair.
“Fuck. Henry, wait. I didn’t mean to upset you.”
“You didn’t,” Henry says, perhaps too quickly. He tries again, setting his hand down on the table. 
“We’re good. I just…I need a moment is all. Besides, I should probably get Pez a large glass of water before he passes out.”
Alex’s knuckles touch the back of his hand. It’s so subtle and faint, any passerby wouldn’t even notice. But that small point of contact becomes the sole focus of Henry’s entire world.
“You’re sure we’re okay?” Alex asks again.
Henry stares back at him.
“Always.”
~*~*~
Columbus, OH GalaxyCon Day 1
Another week, another time zone and Henry is convinced tour life might actually be the death of him.
When they arrived in Ohio yesterday evening, Henry had felt a bit off. He ignored the feeling, not wanting anything to put a damper on the upcoming con and Alex’s excitement over it. He’d be joined again by his castmates and was looking forward to the big dinner they had planned before they were all parting ways again.
Henry liked how pumped Alex got ahead of and during cons, the way he’d light up at the prospect of seeing familiar faces in the crowds and new ones alike. Since the announcement, Henry has noticed the uptick in fervor from both Alex and fans. The last thing Henry wants to do is give Alex any cause for concern or worry.
He gets through most of the morning at GalaxyCon pretty well until close to noon when Alex’s panel is set to start.
“You okay?” Alex asks. “You look a little pale.”
“Yeah, I think all this traveling is catching up to me.”
Alex puts the back of his hand on Henry’s forehead.
“You feel warm, Henry. You must be coming down with something.”
Henry can hear the worry in Alex's voice.
“I’m fine.”
“I can literally see and feel that you aren’t.”
Henry can hear fans being let into the hall. Maybe all he needs now is just some time away to sit alone with some peace and quiet.
“If it’s alright with you, I’m going to pop back to the hotel and get some rest.”
Alex’s lips and brows are pinched with concern.
“Of course it’s okay. Do you need anything?”
Henry shakes his head. “Don’t worry about me. You have your panel to focus on. I’ll be fine.”
Alex doesn’t look convinced and Henry can see the debate he’s having with himself.
He touches Alex’s arm lightly. “I’ll check in with you later. Go have fun out there with your friends.”
Almost on cue, the rest of the cast starts to line up behind the stage. Henry watches them go past but Alex doesn’t budge.
“Go, Alex. I’ll be fine.”
Alex sighs and nods, finally accepting defeat.
“The second we’re done here though, I’m calling you.”
“Fair enough,” Henry says. “I’ll be as good as new by the time you do. You’ll see.”
~*~*~
There’s an annoying pounding sound that makes Henry’s already aching head feel worse as he opens his eyes.
“Henry, let me in,” he hears faintly.
Henry groans and rolls over in bed, instantly regretting the move. His vision feels like a dizzying kaleidoscope. He shuts his eyes again and takes a breath before looking around his room.
He doesn’t know how long he’s been knocked out, but the sun is no longer in the sky and that’s telling enough.
“Henry?” the voice calls again. There are three more quick knocks on the door. “You’re freaking me out. Open up.”
Alex. 
Henry sways as he gets to his feet. It takes a moment for the room to stop feeling like it’s spinning before he walks over to the door and opens it.
On the other side, he’s met with an anxious looking Alex who takes a deep breath of relief.
“Thank God. I was about to get hotel security.”
“I’m fine,” Henry says. 
Alex’s face is incredulous. “You look like shit which I never thought was possible. No offense,” he tacks on. “Shaan has been calling you. I’ve been calling you. I thought you’d passed out though, by the looks of things, I’m guessing that’s exactly what happened. You’re sick.”
Henry rubs at his left temple.
“I need…to sit. You…can keep talking if you want,” he says, stepping away from the door and back into the room.
Behind him, Alex scoffs and presumably comes inside. Henry hears the door close, but it feels like it’d take too much effort to turn around and confirm.
He sits on the edge of bed and wraps the covers around himself like a cocoon.
“I wanted to ask you some more stuff for the book. I just need thirty minutes more. You can go. I’ll set an alarm,” he says, fumbling around the nightstand for his phone but he soon abandons the task when he forgets what he’s searching for a moment later.
“Forget the book. Do you know what day it is?” Alex asks as he approaches his bedside.
“It’s Friday,” Henry mumbles, the comforter falling from his shoulders. 
“Okay, yeah, technically. But it’s also Opposite Day. So, I will be doing the polar opposite of everything you suggest.”
“Alex. How is that— in any way, shape, or form—different from any other day of the week for you?”
Alex grins, his nose scrunching as he does so.
“You may have lost the ability to breathe through your nose, but it’s nice to know your sass is still firmly in place.”
A wave of nausea hits Henry just then, holding him back from making another quick retort. The discomfort he feels must register on his face as Alex’s smile disappears and concern quickly takes its place instead. 
“Come on, seriously, lay down. Please let me take care of you.”
Henry’s tired body responds at once as if it’d been waiting for the command to allow him to finally give in. He settles in on his side and Alex is right there, pulling the comforter over him.
Henry’s surprised as Alex crouches beside the bed, their faces on level as he brushes damp strands from Henry’s forehead. His fingertips are soft against Henry’s skin where they lightly graze him. Alex’s eyes track the movement of his own hand, but Henry can’t look away from the other man's face, taking stock of the way his lashes cast shadows on his cheekbones and his perfect mouth parts slightly. 
“I’ll be right back,” Alex says softly. “I’m going to find the nearest pharmacy and grab a few things for you.”
“I just need to sleep it off.”
Alex scoffs. “Christ, and I thought I was stubborn. I might’ve finally found my match.”
Those words shouldn’t have the power to make Henry’s heart leap. He chalks it up to his sickness for the temporary delusion that Alex could mean anything more. They aren’t a match, even if they’ve been proving to be compatible in virtually every regard. He’s simply not the kind of person Alex actually settles down with.
It’s far too much to think about now; perhaps even when he isn’t feeling like Death warmed over wouldn’t be the best time to attempt dissecting all his complicated feelings.
“You’re the hottest nurse I’ve ever had.”
Alex winks. “If only I’d had time to get a uniform. You’ll just have to use your imagination, sweetheart.”
“A literal interpretation of a fever dream, huh?”
Alex smiles and strokes Henry’s hair again.
“Speaking of dreams, get some sleep while I’m gone.” Henry watches Alex snag his keycard from the nightstand. “I’ll let myself in when I get back. Call if anything changes while I’m out, okay?”
Henry nods, but already his brain is starting to shut down, his eyes too.
He feels a gentle hand against his cheek and what he thinks could be lips on the crown of his head for a brief moment before sleep overtakes him.
~*~*~
When he opens his eyes again, Alex’s back is to him as he sits at the front of the bed. An episode of The Golden Girls is playing on the television and Henry thinks, surely, this fever is playing tricks on his mind.
He sits up slowly and Alex turns at once just as the show breaks for advertisements.
Alex smiles and gets to his feet, going over to the table in the room. Henry sees two tote bags there that Alex begins to unload. The haul is serious, complete with cough medicine, throat lozenges, vapor rub, and even soup and orange juice.
It warms Henry’s heart to see the care that’s gone into this, but he can’t imagine this is how anyone would want to spend a Friday night.
“You’re sweet for this, Alex, thank you,” he says, sniffling a little. He clears his throat.
“You’re going to get sick if you hang around much longer though. You should probably go. I can take it from here. Honest.”
“Do I make for such poor company that you’re giving me the boot already? I’m borderline offended.”
Henry lets out a breath, the closest thing he can muster to a laugh, and gets into bed again, pulling the covers over himself.
“Of course not. I’d just feel even worse if you caught this because of me.”
Alex brings the container of soup over and sets it on the nightstand.
“I’m from Texas. We’re built strong. And besides, I always prepare for the con circuit. At this point I’ve probably got more Airborne than blood running through my veins. I’m good and I’m staying now shh, commercials are over.”
Henry shakes his head to himself as Alex focuses back on the screen and sits beside him now on top of the covers. Henry studies his profile, the sharp angles on a still soft face.
“You must be starving by now and if you aren’t, that’s all the more reason to eat. Here, try a bit of the soup.”
Alex leans over him and grabs the circular plastic container and takes the lid off. Vapors rise from it and it hits Henry then just how hungry he really is. Alex dips a spoon inside and brings it to his lips.
“I can feed myself. I’m not a baby,” Henry protests.
“No, but you’re acting like one. Now shut up and let me take care of you, dammit,” Alex grumbles.
“Your bedside manor could use a bit more work,” Henry says, but he obliges, leaning forward and taking a sip. 
Alex’s eyes look anxious as he watches him.
“Is it good? I went with chicken noodle, a tried and true classic. But if you want something else, I could always—”
“It’s perfect, thank you. You’ve done more than enough, Alex. Seriously.”
He lets Alex coddle him and finishes the soup before taking some cold medicine and orange juice. They watch more TV though Henry doesn’t really pay attention to anything on the screen. His body feels drained again and he's glad Alex had been stubborn and insisted on staying. It’d be an even more miserable scene if he were alone.
He tucks in on Alex’s side and rests his head against his chest.
“I’m really glad you're here,” Henry says after a moment. He listens to the steady drumming of Alex’s heart as the man cards his fingers through Henry’s hair, his dull nails gently scratching against his scalp. It’s enough to lull Henry; he feels himself quickly losing the battle to fatigue all over again.
“There’s no place else I’d rather be. Get some more rest, sweetheart,” he hears Alex’s voice say quietly as he begins to drift. The final word hit Henry’s ear a bit differently. It’s not as if Alex has never said it to him before, but this time, it sounded sincerely affectionate. Romantic even.
His exhaustion and delirium must be at an all-time high and working together to make him conjure up the term of endearment Alex has never uttered in that particular tone before.
~*~*~
Columbus, OH
Day 2
“You missed the cast dinner,” Henry says almost accusatorily, setting his plate of breakfast and mug of tea down on Alex’s table the next morning in the hotel's dining hall.
“Hi, sunshine. Good morning to you too. Slept well then?” Alex replies, popping a grape into his mouth.
Henry frowns as he takes a seat.
“Alex, I’m serious. I just realized you were supposed to meet up with everyone last night.”
Alex shrugs and plucks another grape from the bunch on his plate.
“And yet the world is still spinning. The sun is still shining. It’s not a big deal. I see them all the time and you needed me more. It wasn’t a hard choice to make.”
Henry feels his face warm slightly at the sentiment. 
“You didn’t have to sacrifice your night for me.”
“It wasn’t a sacrifice. I wanted to be there for you. It’s as simple as that.”
Henry pulls out a chair and sits.
“Well, thank you. I appreciated it.”
Alex smiles. “You look good today. I’m glad you’re feeling better.”
“Me too. Considering the fact that you bought up half the pharmacy, my immune system didn’t have a choice but to get itself in order. How much do I owe you?”
“And here I was thinking we finally moved past this. I’m not accepting any form of payment or payback for last night,” Alex says, spreading cream cheese on a bagel.
 Henry smiles to himself.
“You’re infuriatingly stubborn.”
“I might’ve been told that once or twice before, yes.”
Henry laughs and decides he’s better off shifting gears.
“What would you like to do today? Are any of your castmates still in town?”
Alex shakes his head.
“Nah, not for long. They had early morning flights and should be at the airport by now if they aren’t already in the skies.”
Henry bites his tongue to avoid apologizing again.
“Perhaps we could hang out then? Maybe we could get lunch or do something fun before we kiss this city goodbye too.”
Alex grabs his phone and types something into it.
“Have you ever done mini-golf before?”
Henry laughs.
“No, I can’t say that I have.”
“There's an adventure park near here. Mini-golf, go karts…you in?”
“Are you an adrenaline junkie?” Henry asks, taking a sip of his tea.
Alex eyes him for a moment.
“I’m a fan of most things that get my heart racing. Surely you must know that by now.”
Henry tries and fails not to look affected. Usually Alex saves flirtatious talk like this for their lessons, when they’re in the privacy of one of their rooms.
He figures he’s overthinking it. Anyone passing by would simply think it’s an innocuous statement. Only Henry knows the deeper meaning of his words. It excites him, having this secret hiding in plain sight.
“That makes two of us then. I’m game.”
~*~*~
They unwind after a day of adventure in Alex’s room watching Crescent Valley. Alex gives Henry behind the scenes commentary on what it was like filming on the show and he takes advantage of the insights, letting his phone rest between them as they lay side by side in bed, recording all the stories so that he can add more color to the book.
Henry creates a new voice note and puts the show on pause, switching over to his running notes document.
“Can you talk to me about your journey learning about your sexuality?” he asks. “It’s such a key part to the memoir, I’d love to hear more about that.”
Alex pulls in a breath and Henry feels a bit guilty about switching gears so suddenly. In contrast to how easy it was for Alex to share on-set anecdotes, he seems unsure of where to start now.
“It used to be a distant, vague thing in my head. The first concrete period of time I can pinpoint is freshman year. I played lacrosse in high school,” Alex says. “And I was damn good.”
Henry can picture it easily, Alex in uniform, a complete rockstar on the field. He’s patient as Alex parses his thoughts.
“I’d get super competitive with guys I thought had an edge on me. I can’t really describe it. But sometimes I’d reason, if I could beat them, they’d be impressed and I’d get on their radar. I really don’t know how to explain it,” he repeats. Henry can hear the frustration. “I guess I was seeking some kind of validation. I wanted them to notice me and not just as an athlete.”
Alex sighs.
“I’ve only genuinely hooked up with one guy other than you. I’ve gotten wasted at parties in L.A before and I’ve made out with some dudes, but it was always something I could explain away like, I was drunk or just doing a bit. Messing around, you know? But then I’d think about high school and the way one of my teammates and I would kinda orbit around each other. It wasn’t…the same with him. With Liam,” Alex sighs and Henry doesn’t miss how soft Alex’s voice gets when saying his old teammates name. 
“I didn’t get that competitive streak. It was different. More real. With him, it was like we were on equal ground.”
Alex shakes his head, toying with his fingers.
“We were good friends. We’d hang out a lot after practice or games. We kind of fell into it. I almost don’t even remember how or when I noticed it for the first time, the way we’d hold each other’s gaze a little longer than was needed. Or the way we’d make excuses to casually touch either other in almost stealthy ways. I guess it doesn’t really matter. Point is, it eventually came to a head. We’d be so hopped up on adrenaline after lacrosse most times and one day, one thing led to another and the next thing I knew, we were making out in my room.”
Henry studies Alex’s profile, sees the deep furrow of his brow as if, years later, he’s still trying to understand his actions.
“The first time it happened, I thought that’d be the only time. We were both kinda spooked by it, to be honest. After he left though, I couldn’t stop thinking about it…about how much I actually liked it and wanted it again. For fuck’s sake, I got off thinking about him and our kiss that night. That was the first time I ever got off thinking about a guy.”
Alex sighs.
“I saw him the next day at practice. At first, we kept our distance in the locker room. We went out on the field with everyone else, and played our parts well. Then he showed up at my house afterwards totally unannounced and it became a recurring thing after that. If we celebrated a win or if one of us had a shitty day at practice...we’d keep seeking each other out. It was mostly always just kissing. But every now and then, we’d touch. Nothing over the top. Hell, we’d mostly just get ourselves off together. I think I was too scared to touch him like that. It would have made what we were doing too real somehow.”
Henry listens on quietly, fully present in this moment with Alex.
“We… I chalked it up to goofing around. Just boys being boys or whatever bullshit I used to convince myself it meant nothing. Liam is actually engaged now to a pretty great guy. We’ve talked since high school, you know, about everything. I thought we were just messing around, but he told me how serious it was on his end, even back then. He’d always felt different than our classmates. He always knew this truth about himself even though he was afraid to say it out loud. He genuinely liked me as more than a friend.”
Alex frowns and collects his thoughts.
“Looking back on it, I feel like such an asshole. Liam had real feelings for me and I know now that I was attracted to him, but we were in two totally different headspaces when we were hooking up. Each time, it was reaffirming something for him. He knew fully that he was gay. For me, at the time at least, it just felt like a way of getting off and having fun. He felt like an exception to everything, an anomaly. I still went out with and hooked up with girls regularly, you know. I didn’t know what it actually meant about me that I was in fact drawn to both.”
Alex runs a hand through his hair. 
“I’m glad he and I have had the chance to talk things through. And I’ve apologized to him several times, but it hardly feels like enough. I should have been more careful. I should have seen what that really was. I never meant to hurt him.”
Henry inches forward, his heart breaking as Alex looks at him with wet eyes.
“You’ve done all you can since learning the truth. It wasn’t intentional and I’m sure he knows that. Liam isn’t upset with you, right?”
Alex shakes his head.
“No, but he’d have every reason in the world to be.”
Henry places a hand on Alex’s.
“You can’t beat yourself up over this. You’ve made amends. You were just kids back then. This isn’t easy. You’ve got to give yourself some grace.”
There’s a distant look in Alex’s eyes as he blinks his tears away.
“Yeah. Yeah, you’re right and logically, I get that. Still, I can’t fully shake it. I can’t help but to wonder what my life would have been like if only I would have realized what it meant that I kept going back to him. Because I really wanted it with him specifically, but it felt like a one-off, like no big deal, you know? If I thought a few guys were attractive, I saw it as just having eyes and being observant. It didn’t feel like some life-altering thing. But in reality? The things I was doing with Liam, the things I wanted to do with him but didn’t have the courage to say…that was a huge turning point and I totally missed it. Sometimes, it almost feels like I was robbed. But it was my own ignorance that kept me in the dark for so long.”
Alex shrugs and looks away and Henry’s heart shatters at once.
“Anyway, that’s a conversation for me and my therapist. I won’t bore you with it any further now,” Alex laughs, but Henry can hear the pain in it. 
He stops the recording. He’s asked enough of Alex tonight.
“It’s never a bore, a bother, or a burden. You can always talk to me. Even if I weren’t tasked with writing out your life’s story, I’d want to listen. I…perhaps it’s improper, but I sincerely do consider you a dear friend, Alex.”
Alex quirks a brow.
“Given the things we’ve done to each other’s bodies, I’d say friendship is the least improper territory we’ve waded into.”
This time Henry laughs as he concedes.
“You’ve got me there,” he relents. 
Alex smiles softly and reaches for Henry’s hand. 
“I appreciate it though. The offer and…you know, you in general. You’re helping me in all sorts of ways, it’s actually kind of crazy. I don’t know if I’ve even said thank you yet, for any of it. But I am grateful for everything.”
“You’re welcome. It’s nice to know I can be useful,” Henry says, aiming for levity.
But Alex’s face is serious as he shakes his head and laces their fingers.
“It’s beyond that, Henry. You’re essential to me. I don’t ever want you to forget that.”
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