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gleekto · 2 years

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Fic: Can’t Take My Eyes Off Of You (6/?)

Short Summary: Blaine coming of age in 1969. Columbia University. Hippie!Kurt. Elliott and Sebastian as Blaine’s mentor-friends. Unironic use of ‘groovy’. Coming out and fitting in and falling in love.

Amazing Poster by @caramelcoffeeaddict

For @slayediest who gave an inspired prompt for this way back when.

Day One, Day Two, Day Three, Day Four, Day Five

Day Six: Hideous

(Kurt)

"So I bet you're glad you went, right Kurt?" Rachel links arms with him as they make their way back to their rooms after the dorm rap.

"I am actually," Kurt nods, mostly to himself.

"Right?" Rachel says enthusiastically. "You never know when you might learn something new or feel validated or-"

"Not for those reasons, Rachel. I don't need anyone to validate me, thank you very much."

"Ohhh?" Rachel says with too much interest. "You said not to try to set you up and I was respecting that and I didn't say anything - But it's Elliott, isn't it?" Rachel is way too excited right now.

"No it's not Elliott, Rachel," Kurt rolls his eyes. "Though he was a great presenter. And handsome," Kurt says objectively.

"Oh it's the freshman Blaine! He was also very cute. Did you see his pretty eyes, Kurt?"

"Yes, Rachel. I saw his pretty eyes. And actually, I'd seen them before. He's in my music history class," Rachel clasps her hands together. "I didn't notice him at all, to be honest," Kurt needs to be very clear with her. "He seemed just as beige as everybody else. At least until he shared my appreciation for mocking the irritating brown noser who overtakes the class."

Rachel nods in approval. "This has lots of potential," He can just see the wheels turning in her head and he doesn't like it.

"Don't get any ideas, Rachel. I'm glad I went because now I maybe have someone to talk to in class. That's it."

"But you think he has pretty eyes," Rachel hints. "And it's pretty cool that he led that workshop, right? That's not beige at all." Kurt has got to admit that she has a point there. That took guts.

"I guess the workshop thing is pretty cool. And yes, he has pretty eyes. But I'm not that shallow, Rachel. Don't get any ideas."

"I won't," she says squeezing his arm.

She will.

...(Blaine)

The next day, Blaine has music history at 10am and he makes sure to get there early, a feat that is frankly against his nature, but Kurt is always there when he gets there and today he can't risk it. Suddenly there's a guy who knows the secret closest to his heart. Someone who he doesn't really know at all, and who frankly, doesn't likely want to be friends with the campus homosexual. Hippies are more open minded but a one on one friendship is different than a dorm rap session and he's not going to be the one to put pressure on Kurt. He'll sit down first - one row behind Kurt's usual spot - neither rejecting nor following. Ball's in his court. He opens his book.

A few minutes later and Blaine sees light pink bell bottoms that frankly would be hideous on anyone else. It's Kurt. And of course he pulls them off. The bell bottoms hesitate at the row in front of him, but then instead make their way into his row. Oh. And Kurt stops and sits right beside Blaine. Right beside.

"Hi Blaine."

"Hi Kurt." Blaine was not expecting this. He wasn't even hoping. Best case scenario was that they would smile at each other as they pass on their way out of class. Not that he was thinking about it. Blaine is caught off guard. He doesn't know what to say - a humorous and self deprecating apology to Kurt having too much information about him? No. The whole point of this thing is not to be ashamed. And Kurt came over to him. Besides, hippies are more open minded.

"It was cool that presentation you did for our dorm," Kurt starts but looks down quickly at his notebook, fidgeting with his pencil. Blaine knows how awkward it is to acknowledge the elephant in the room and Kurt does it. He honestly can't blame him for being slightly bashful - Blaine has been hiding this stuff his whole life. Everybody's uncomfortable talking about it. Especially straight guys.

"Thanks. You guys were a friendly audience."

"Yeah, I'm sure you don't always get a warm welcome."

"Well I'm new to all this - freshman and all that. But I already had 31 floor leaders refusing the dorm rap session-"

"Not surprised." Kurt shakes his head but Blaine can't read him so he just continues.

"Last year, Elliott said they managed to do 10 in total, but got asked at least three times if it was only a phase and would they be willing to turn back to God."

"Extra not surprised," Kurt sighs and looks irritated. Red flag. Kurt is finally talking to him and he's lecturing about homophobia.

"Yeah. Anyways, you guys seemed to actually be supportive of the cause. You know, walking the walk."

"Yeah, the hippie dorm is pretty great. Maybe a bit too much weed and a bit too few clothes, but the love is real."

"So you're not a stoner nudist then?" Blaine nudges him with his elbow. Was that flirty? Blaine did not mean to be flirty.

"My mantra is always the more clothes the better," Kurt grins and nudges back with a sparkle in his eye. Blaine feels warm all over.

"You do have great clothes," Blaine says in appreciation before he can catch himself. And now his cheeks are crimson.

"Why thank you," Is all Kurt says before Professor Cohen starts the lecture. Blaine thinks he even sees a quiet smile still on Kurt's face as he looks down at his paper. Kurt has the nicest smile.

When they exit the room together at the end of class, Kurt turns to him. "Maybe I'll check that group out sometime. Did you say Tuesdays at 7 at Earl Hall?"

Blaine's eyes go wide and he quickly reminds himself that they're open to all. "For sure -we're open to all our supporters. Yeah Tuesday at 7. That'd be cool."

"Groovy," Kurt says and quickly walks away.

Groovy.

#klaine spring fling #klaine spring fling hideous #can't take my eyes off of you #gleekto writes

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ichigoromi · 3 years

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𝐖𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐡𝐞 𝐦𝐚𝐤𝐞𝐬 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐟𝐞𝐞𝐥 𝐢𝐧𝐬𝐞𝐜𝐮𝐫𝐞 | 𝐓𝐬𝐮𝐤𝐢𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐦𝐚 𝐊𝐞𝐢 𝐇𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐧 | 𝐇𝐚𝐢𝐤𝐲𝐮𝐮 𝐇𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐧

Sometimes, our salty middle blocker can be a little blunt, nah he has no filter.

His harsh words can sometimes hurt feelings.

So let's get hurt.

Jk.

I'm not going to do that.

Erm, bear with it, it's going to be worth it.

Enjoy, my fellow salty fries seekers.

I listened to this song while writing, hope you can enjoy it too - Mafumafu - 打上花火 cover

Tsukishima Kei

This man is the epitome of bluntness.

Sometimes, you are baffled by his bluntness and sass that you want to smack his head with a volleyball.

You became a manager during your second year since you transferred from Okinawa, where your family has relocated here due to your father's job.

Yachi names you as the devil manager who protects her from the school teams' players trying to hit on her.

Due to your playful and laidback nature, you easily masked a lot of things.

You were first in the whole school, without fail.

You are taller than most girls, even taller than some boys in the school and was slightly chubby.

Tsukishima always pokes fun at your height and loves to pull on your cheeks.

Since you are quite tall, the teacher places you in front of Tsukishima.

You two would bicker and fight in class, leading to Yamaguchi breaking the fight every time.

Guys in school can't help but admit that your beauty has matured and developed a crush on you.

During practice, you were suffering from one of the worst cramps and was just not having it.

Hinata immediately drags Kageyama away when he tried to approach you, but Tsukishima just had to push all the buttons that day.

He went over the line about your height and weight, which you were incredibly insecure about, but you just hide it.

You slapped him on the face and ran out of the gymnasium with tears running down your cheeks.

Silence. Dead silence in the gymnasium for the whole five seconds. Yamaguchi pulls to the side, Yachi and the first-year managers helped to administer some first-aid.

That was some strength put into the slap.

His mother lectured him for hurting his feelings and insist he apologises to you.

Your eyes were swollen, and you wore one of your older brother's hoodie that easily swallows your figure.

You two met eye contact, but you ignored him.

He noticed that during lunch break, you did not finish your lunch.

It went for a week, you continued to come in your brother's hoodie.

Even during practice, you were lethargic and try to act like normal, but Tsukishima noticed it all.

And he felt bad that he has not apologised yet and your recent behaviour change was all because of him.

"Oi. Walk home with me." His tall figure looms over you as you were busy sorting out the data that you have collected.

"No." You coldly said and stood up to walk away from him.

Ennoshita came up behind him and place a hand on his shoulder. Tsukishima turned around and looked at his expression and knows that he is for some long talk.

While Tsukishima is getting grilled by his teammates, you walked Yachi to the train station.

You two walked in silence to the train station. Yachi sighs and turns to look at you.

"You know, we miss your bubbliness and energy. We need our cheerleader back. Take care, and stop skipping meals." Yachi gave you a hug and head into the train station.

After Tsukishima called you a clumsy irritated elephant, you felt so hurt and even questioned your feelings for him.

You did not finish up your lunch and skipped dinner. You even went to steal one of your brother's hoodie to hide your figure. There was nothing you can do with your height.

But you had to admit that slapping him was quite over the top, but you got a free meat bun from Ukai.

"Wait! Let's talk." It was Tsukishima, slightly panting and holding your wrist to stop you from walking.

"Fine, let's talk then."

He handed you the carton of strawberry milk and sat down beside you.

"I want to apologise first for calling you names and ignoring your feelings. I know I've hurt your feelings, and I feel awful about it. Can you don't starve yourself? It hurts me that you are not eating like usual." You looked up in surprise.

There was no sarcasm in his words; it was pure genuine without any bluntness.

He looked away, his cheeks blushing.

"You have to eat because I like my girl with some flesh." He indirectly confesses.

You smiled and lets out a small laugh.

"Why are you laughing? Are you going to tease me now?" He pulls on your cheeks.

"Ah, stop it! I know you are getting worried, but I felt really hurt." You pout, and he lets go of your cheeks.

He moved closer to you and sneakily holds your hand.

"Hey, isn't the moon beautiful tonight?" He casually asked while looking at the dark skies filled with bright stars and the full moon glowing.

You stared at him and leaned against his shoulder.

"Yeah, the moon is beautiful tonight."

I have decided to end on a sweet note~! Tsukki, he is making me feel so fluffy! I love him.

Thank you for reading, and hope y'all enjoy this headcanon!

Stay safe and healthy!

With love,

Rosalie🍓

#tsukishima kei #tsukishima kei headcanons #tsukishima headcanons #tsukishima x y/n #tsukishima fluff #tsukishima haikyuu #tsukishima oneshot #tsukishima x reader #tsukishima x you #haikyuu headcanons #haikyuu x y/n #haikyuu x reader #tsukishima hcs #haikyuu hcs #tsukishima imagine #haikyuu imagines #haikyuu fluff

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eve6262 · 2 years

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from the other seat [jayce/viktor]

Blitzcrank is a problem. And not in the usual Zaunite way, where either they're dangerously unhinged or deathly ill or impossibly dense when it comes to topsider language. No, Blitzcrank is a problem because Jayce, for all his merits, has a giant, glaring issue:

He gets depressed when he gets envious.

It was part of the reason he got with Mel, because he thought Sky had essentially gotten Viktor and he'd felt terribly about himself. That, combined with her presence and confidence, all the poise and grace of an upper society proper lady, had enticed him accordingly.

Now, of course, he knows better. He knows Viktor's the kind of man who can really hold his attention, something delicate but not fragile, someone damaged but not pitiful. Someone with issues, someone who isn't on better footing than he is. Maybe it's cruel, maybe it's a problem, but part of what made him and Mel drift apart was how put together she was comparatively.

Blitzcrank was not intially a problem. He was fine with the massive golem, even more fine with it when he learned that for indoors purposes he had a tiny body that he could transfer between without Viktor's help, seeing as the thing was a bit of an elephant in the room when standing there.

Now, though.

"Aww, aren't you sweet."

He finds himself jealous of a robot.

He sits, that day, on a stool in Viktor's workshop- the two have separate labs, now, for publicity's sake, but they are still often together- curled onto the table, watching Viktor dote on his little metal child.

Entresol words, thick and sharp, pierce his ears, and he wishes those words were directed at him. They could be curses- he'd never curse Blitzcrank, of course, not his precious little metal son- and he wouldn't care he likes them so much. Maybe it's a problem, that he finds Viktor's native language little more than syllables he wants uttered at him, but they're both a little flawed.

A lot flawed, he thinks miserably, as he watches the little bot talk to Viktor in the same language back.

"Jayce? Are you alright?"

He doesn't immediately respond, just watches with those same half-lidded eyes, until his name is called again. "Jayce?"

"Huh?"

"Are you alright?"

"Yeah, yeah, I'm fine."

"Are you sure? You've just been staring at me for a while."

"Yeah, just-" He waves a hand, turning back to the papers in front of him. "Got distracted by you and Blitz."

"What, too loud?" Asks the other, clearly a jab at his normally loud forge and its usual inhabitants.

"So mushy."

"You are as well, are you not?"

"Yeah. Yeah, I guess I don't really have a right, huh."

"A right...?"

"Yes, a right."

It must click for him, despite Jayce's best (worst) efforts to hide the fact that he is clearly in need of some doting, he hears Viktor giggle. It's adorably short, a few quick notes, and he thinks for a second the sound might just be worth it.

"You are not jealous of a robot, are you?"

He lied. Not worth it at all.

"No," he lies again.

"No? Then I will go back to giving Blitzcrank the praise he deserves."

"Mm-hm. You do that."

But silence follows, and Jayce is not nearly as good as his partner is at denying his inhibitions, so he turns around to see Viktor practically cuddling the little thing. It's the size of a squirrel, maybe, half a yordle and then a little more, short enough to move around on the desk like a paperweight and, with a rocket-propulsed hand mirroring the larger mech, grab you tools and pens and paper from around the room.

It looks adorably like Viktor is hugging a little baby, playing with his hand like one would a kitten.

He wants to be that kitten.

Viktor must have installed eyes on the back of his head because he looks over to Jayce again. "Distracted by my silence this time?"

"Can't look at my boyfriend for a while?"

"Jayce. You have no need to be jealous."

"I'm not."

"It is good you did not get with a woman, because you wouldn't be able to handle sharing attention with a child."

"Hey!"

"Pity you ended up with me, though, because Mama always said I was a mother by birth."

"What does that even mean?"

"I think she meant I would be a good mother?"

"You're a guy."

"Culturally, not literally. A maternal figure, even if I am of the other gender."

"...I mean, she's not wrong."

"She was not. As proven by the smartest golem to ever exist, isn't that right?"

He is going to die here.

"Jayce."

"I'm not jealous."

Viktor puts Blitzcrank down on the table and motions to follow, leaning lightly on his staff. In the summer months things seem to get better for him, and the heat of this lab with all its steam and moving parts seems to help even more. That, and a couple of augments only hurt their relationship to the point where it nearly broke for good.

He sits himself on the couch, patting the other side for Jayce to sit down on. Without any hesitation his partner curls into Viktor's lap, and the supposed maternal figure gives a chuckle at that. "Look at you. Jealous of a robot."

"I'm not."

"No. You are only moping, which you do when you get jealous, and are staring down Blitzcrank like he has offended you."

"He has."

"Has he now?"

"Yes. He took my boyfriend's attention."

Viktor clicks his tongue. "Terrible with children."

Nonetheless, he pets Jayce's hair and spine, and feels his partner lean further into his chest. "Having a bad day?"

"Yeah."

"You could have said something."

"I thought you'd yell at me for distracting you from your work."

"Please, Jayce. I only yell at you for distracting me when it's either important or completely unecessary."

"This is unecessary."

"This is the point of a relationship, is it not?"

"What, complying with my nonsensical whims?" The exaggeration with which he says it makes him think of Jinx, and promptly he wonders if she's ever had a partner, which is a thought that makes him worry.

"No. Comfort. Enjoyment. Happiness. Those sort of things. You take what the other is willing to give, and no more, and no less, and you provide what you can, no more, no less."

There's a pause, in which Jayce thinks that Viktor, despite having only ever had this relationship, has got this whole thing figured out, and then he says,

"No more, no less, that is the saying, yes?"

"Yeah.'

They sit in comfortable warmth for a while, Jayce's ego slowly recovering as he's given comforting strokes through his hair and a hand on his spine, slowly petting him, almost like a dog. This is nice, he thinks, a reprieve from all the stress of council meetings and responsibility and everything else. No thoughts, an empty mind, just comfort and relaxation.

Viktor chuckles, mostly to himself. "Jealous of Blitzcrank."

"Shut up."

---

there's a work on ao3, Viktor's Little Wonder by LiterallyThePresident, and that's the reason I wrote this pretty much

~Eve6262

#writing #fanfiction #jayce/viktor #viktor league of legends #jayce league of legends #jayce talis #jayce #viktor #blitzcrank #gay

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youbloodymadgenius · 3 years

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Angel’s Touch (Modern!Ivar x reader)

A/N: This is my long overdue contribution to @rosepetals-flyingbirds‘ challenge. I’m sorry it took me so long, babe 💖 I’ve been going through a lot lately (including the loss of a loved one) and I wasn’t in the mood to write 😔

The prompt, as usual, is in bold.

Thanks to the lovely @geekandbooknerd for beta reading this for me 🌺

Let me know if you want to be tagged 😊

The gif belongs to @therealcalicali 💐

Summary: Ivar's always been very secretive when it comes to his legs. How is he going to react when you tell him you want to know all of him?

Warnings: angst; fluff at the end; Ivar’s insecurities; soft and vulnerable Ivar.

Words: 4600

"I'm coming!" you shout enthusiastically, wrapping a soft towel around your body before closing the bathroom door behind you.

Wincing at your words, Ivar hastily hides his legs under the comforter. "That was a close one…", he mumbles while breathing a sigh of relief. Deep down, he knows he's not doing the right thing. Avoiding the problem will not make it go away.

He can't help himself, though. He still has nightmares about that awful night with Margrethe. It was years ago, yet memories of her disgusted look as well as her eyes full of pity still haunt his nights, vivid and humiliating.

He doesn't want to go through that again. It would be unbearable and painful, much worse than the dull ache he's used to enduring every day. No, he definitely can't relive it. Shuddering at this thought, Ivar squeezes his eyes shut and clenches his fists tight.

He won't allow it. He can't. Because he's not sure he can get over it again. After Margrethe, he had been broken – more broken than his broken bones – for so long. It had taken him years of therapy to stop being disgusted by himself, to stop hating himself for what he was. A freak. It had taken him years to endure looking at himself in a mirror. And it had taken him years to imagine sharing a bed with a woman again.

Oh, of course, he had fucked every so often. He needed it after the complete fiasco with Margrethe. He had to prove himself that he could… But it had always been in a hurry, and with random, uninteresting women. Till you…

You. You're not random, and definitely not uninteresting. You're beautiful and smart, patient and funny, warmhearted and caring but never overbearing. You're… perfect, he thinks, and it scares him as much as it makes him shiver with excitement. On top of that, so far you don't seem bothered by his legs and he wants to keep it that way.

His legs. His fucking legs. The averted elephant in the room. Well, averted… more or less. Because if you've never seen them, you know the braces, the crutches, the uneven gait and he's pretty sure you've figured out his pain. But you two never talk about them. He knows that you understood from the beginning that they were, they are a major issue for him. You're smart enough for that.

Yet, you never bring them up and he couldn't be more grateful. He's very aware that he can't keep going like this for long. But he doesn't know how to address what is, to him, a huge matter of concern. He's afraid you'll go away as soon as you realize how damaged his legs are, how crippled he really is. He doesn't want to lose you. He can't. That would be insufferable. And he knows exactly why. It's not just that he likes you, that sex is great, and that you're fun to be around, no… He's helplessly falling in love with you. It may be terrifying, but it's no less true.

That's why he does what he does. That's why he's always hurrying up, hiding, avoiding. It doesn't matter if it leads sometimes to awkward situations. It doesn't matter if you're not fooled. All that matters is that you don't see his legs; not for a long time anyway; and most preferably never.

Inhaling deeply, Ivar slips his hands under the comforter, rubs his scrawny, bony, twisted thighs, feeling their scarred skin and grunting in disgust. He knows he's wrong, he knows he's not going anywhere, but he can't help. He can't risk losing you.

***

More sad than irritated, you hardly stifle a sigh as you enter the room. Once again, Ivar is unsurprisingly already in bed, his fluffy comforter keeping his legs out of sight.

His legs… A fucking huge elephant in the room… It's amazing – not in a good way – how something that's never addressed can take up so much space.

The truth is, you know a lot about them. Being a son of Ragnar, the man who rules Scandinavia – at least economically but surely politically too, with friends in the right places and enough money to corrupt them – didn't allow Ivar to grow up in the shadow. Ivar's life therefore has always been on display, making headlines more often than not. So you know about his disease and its inherent struggles, about the surgeries and about the pain – well, now you even witness it sometimes, and the way he always tries to hide it is heartwrenching.

You know more than you'd like to since you even know about his supposed failing sex life, that bitch whose name you've long forgotten having told her story to everyone around. It doesn't matter though, as you can testify that Ivar's cock is far from dysfunctional.

Anyway, if you know a lot – truths or lies – about his condition and about his legs, you don't know them. And you're aware it has to change. You just don't know how. You can't be too straightforward or Ivar will close up on you. Yet you can't let things go on like this for too long, because it's unhealthy. And an unhealthy relationship with Ivar is the last thing you want, both for his and your sake.

Somehow always in your mind, his legs make things awkward. Sex is great, but could even be better, for they prevent you from being spontaneous. The last thing you want is to make Ivar, the man you're falling in love with, uncomfortable. So, you don't speak about them because you can feel he doesn't want to speak about them. You don't look at them because his tight jaw is unmistakable each time your eyes wander to his lower body. You do your best never to touch them, which isn't easy when you share his bed. In short, most of the time you act as if they don't exist. And this has got to stop.

You can't let this unspoken thing continue to grow between the two of you or it will end up becoming a problem that will eat you up, you do know it with utmost certainty. You won't allow it. You can't. Ivar is important to you, to say the least, and you're pretty sure he reciprocates your feelings. You see it in his huge blue eyes that sparkle each time he looks at you; you hear it in the softness of his tone each time he talks to you.

So yeah, the whole situation annoys you. It doesn't mean that his legs annoy you. They don't. You won't lie, you're a little nervous about them. How could you not, given how sensitive a subject they are? Will you say the right thing? Do the right thing? Will you hurt Ivar unwillingly? Just thinking about it, about them, makes you feel like you're walking on eggshells. Ivar is being very touchy when it comes to them, to those-legs-we-mustn't-talk-about, it seems to you that the slightest word could ruin everything. And you don't want that. Gods, you don't. Yet, you're not sure how to handle well something that important.

That's the point. His legs are that important. They shouldn't be. They shouldn't matter. They don't matter. Of course, you're not stupid. Ivar has a disability, there's no denying it. But it doesn't define him, right? What defines him is his outstanding intelligence, his sharp mind, and his deadpan, ironic humour. And well, if you're being honest, his ridiculous handsomeness too… It might sound shallow, but… who cares?

Anyway, enough is enough. Things must change and you're sure Ivar won't be the one initiating the change. It leaves you no choice, you know it. Your heart hammering in your chest, you rub your sweaty palms together before inhaling deeply. That's it. Let it be done. The sooner the better.

***

"Are you not coming?" Ivar's blue eyes are scrutinizing you from under furrowed brows as you scrabble around in your small overnight bag, as an idea has just popped into your head.

Glancing at him over your shoulder, you barely nod while swallowing the lump in your throat. "Of course I am, give me a minute." You reply after a while, sounding more confident than you feel. But you know it's a good idea. It could be the first step. It could work. It has to work.

Your hands are shaking but your heart is filled with hope when you eventually find what you were looking for. "Here it is.", you mutter, a tentative smile playing on your lips as you turn towards your lover, who looks at the silk scarf in your hand with a mischievous grin.

"What is it on your naughty mind?" He asks playfully, tilting his head in his very own way, the one that melts your heart each and every time. "You want to blindfold me, Y/N?" His low, deep voice sends shivers down your spine. "Or maybe you'd rather be blindfolded? It's up to you, I'm totally on board with either one." He swallows heavily, and when he licks his upper lip and then the lower in a slow-moving and sensual motion, a familiar warmth spreads in your lower belly.

Of course, he had to misread the situation. And you, you're so easily, pathetically flustered! Closing your eyes to push away any distracting thoughts, you inhale deeply while just shaking your head no as you don't trust yourself to speak right now.

Raising a brow, Ivar gives you a questioning look. "So, what is it about, then?" His tone is more serious now, you can almost feel a hint of uneasiness in his voice as if a part of his brain already suspects what's in your mind.

"Actually, I want to be blindfolded, but not to do what you're thinking about." You explain, shyly lowering your gaze. "I'd like to try something." You speak in a whisper but with honesty, fidgeting with the little silver Mjölnir – a gift from Ivar – you wear around your neck. "If it's okay with you." You add, your shaky voice giving away your nervousness.

Confused, Ivar looks at you with knitted brows. Since you don't want to explain further – because you're sure that if you told him of your plan, he would deny you – you just climb on the bed, kneel next to him and bring the scarf to your face, wrapping it around your head and over your eyes before tying it in the back with a tight knot.

Being blinded like that, even if it's of your own volition, is quite unsettling, you must say. You feel weirdly exposed, vulnerable, in your tiny shorts and a tank top and you have to inhale and exhale slowly several times in order to calm your nerves.

Uncertain, Ivar keeps quiet, his breathing just a little bit shorter than usual. "Y/N?" His hesitant voice startles you and you swallow, biting your inner cheek.

You know you have to take action, the sooner the better. So you fumble blindly on the bed and as you find Ivar's hand, you bring it to your mouth, kissing each knuckle one after the other while your free hand slips under the comforter.

His breath hitches, yet Ivar doesn't react, doesn't stop you, as you slowly lift the comforter, pulling it away. But when your fingers graze what you think is his thigh, he grabs your wrist, wrapping his fingers around it.

"What…" Ivar stutters, his grip tight enough to bruise your delicate skin, "… What are you doing, Y/N?" His voice, barely audible, is nothing more than a shaky whisper that wrings your heart.

Yet, you won't back down. "Let me, Ivar, please…" You beg softly, but to no avail. Ivar rushes his words, panic coursing through his veins. "Stop Y/N! Don't, please don't, I… They are… They are ugly. I… I can't." That's it. He can't. Just thinking of you exposing his disgusting legs, he feels like throwing up. He can't.

Hearing your lover so upset, and maybe even close to tears, is heartbreaking. Raising your free hand, you find his arm, then his shoulder, his neck, and finally his face, which you cup tenderly.

"You do know I won't see them, don't you?" You ask carefully, peppering light kisses along his jaw while trying to slow down the frantic pace of your own heart.

Ivar doesn't miss a beat, pushing you away gently but very firmly. "You don't need your sight to feel how hideous they are." Almost convinced to give up by his broken voice, you struggle to keep in mind that postponing the problem can't be a solution.

"That's what you think about them, how you see them, Ivar, that's not what they are." Your tone soft and soothing, you're trying to convey how much you care. "And it's certainly not how I'm going to see or to feel them."

"How would you know?" You can tell that he shifts in the bed to sit upright, his back against the headboard. His fingers still around your wrist, you have to stifle a hiss of pain when he changes position.

"Because they are a part of you. Nothing from you, or about you, can be ugly." You wince, realizing that you've just opened up to him more than you would have liked. But well, speaking your mind isn't a bad thing, right?

As Ivar, dumbstruck, keeps quiet, you decide to strike the iron while it's hot. Once again finding his cheek, your thumb lightly strokes it while you speak. "Let me touch them, Ivar…"

You know him well enough to be sure that right now, a storm is clouding his features. But as his breathing starts to quicken and as his grip on your wrist loosens, you understand that he's more frightened than angry. "Please…" You plead, aiming blindly a reassuring smile in his direction.

"But… Wh… Why?" He's never felt so scared, not even with Margrethe. Even if the rational part of him knows you're right, he won't give up yet, not without fighting. "Why… Why does it have to be? You don't need to touch those fucking…", swallowing, he closes his eyes briefly, "… you don't need to touch my legs, Y/N. You don't. We could just go on like this, as we have done up to now. Believe me, it will be better like that."

"No, it won't." You sigh, shaking your head. Ivar's distress may break your heart, yet you're more and more convinced that this is the right thing to do. "Let me touch them, Ivar, please…" You simply repeat, your free hand still on his cheek.

"Why… Why is it so important to you?" As soon as the words escape his lips, he regrets them, wishes he could take them back. He should have said no. Why didn't he say no? Slapping himself internally, he rolls his eyes, annoyed as much by his own stupidity as by your stubbornness.

You answer in a sweet whisper, placing your hand on his chest. He's sure you can feel the crazy thumping of his heart under your palm. "Because your legs are a part of you, and I want to know everything about you. Will you let me, Ivar?"

Ivar, deeply moved by your words, is eager to believe them. But on the other hand, it's so… frightening; unsettling. Not used to being so vulnerable in front of someone, he feels like he's being ripped apart, and gods, he hates it! "I… I don't know… I'm… not sure…" He eventually stammers almost unwillingly, more or less denying you once more, yet his resolution starts to falter, and he knows you can hear it.

Even more surprising, it's as if his body betrayed him, his fingers finally releasing your wrist. As you gasp, astonished and pleased, he ponders for a few moments before deciding – if deciding something against what seems to be your own will is even a thing – he won't stop you. He knows he could, but he also knows you're right. So, conflicted and petrified with fear, he just waves his hand, wiggling his fingers, and mumbles under his breath a faint "go ahead" that you almost miss.

"Is that a 'yes', Ivar?" Full of hope and with what you're sure is a beaming smile on your lips, you intertwine your fidgeting fingers and put your hands on your lap, anxiously awaiting his reply.

His jaw clenched, Ivar just nods. At first, he doesn't realize that you can't see him. As the silence drags on, he furrows his brows, confused, before breathing a hesitant answer. "Yeahhh…" Digging his fingernails into his palms, he waits for your next move, almost like someone awaiting a death sentence.

Sensing his anxiousness, you raise your hands and then move them very slowly, willing to give Ivar time to stop you if he needs to. Since he doesn't utter a word nor grab your wrists, you keep going, your fingers grazing what surely is his lower belly before finding the hem of his cotton boxer shorts.

Intensely aware of the importance of the moment, you can't help but swallow loudly, your stomach tied in knots. You started all this, and even if you're still not sure if it's the right time – will there ever be a right time for this? – you have to keep going. But you're scared. What if it'll push Ivar over the edge? What if it is too much for him? What if you won't handle this as well as you think you will? You don't want to lose him. Your mind suddenly filled with doubts, you do the only thing you can think of, and send a silent prayer to the gods, hoping they can help the two of you.

Holding his breath, Ivar looks at your hands as if he was hypnotized. His eyes wide open, he can't move, can't speak, utterly terrified of what is to come. He knows he should trust you. Maybe he does. But he doesn't trust himself. No, that's not true. Most of the time, Ivar doesn't lack self-confidence. He knows his worth. He's aware of the strength of his intelligence, his cunning. He knows about his good looks – even if they're quite useless; or about his highly appreciated caustic humour. And as he's no fool, he knows that being a Ragnarsson – name, wealth, all the stuff – is a major asset. Yet, when it comes to his legs, he's nothing more than a frightened little boy, so anxious that he's ready to fall apart. Feeling ashamed, self-conscious, and helpless, he's wondering how much tenser he can become until he physically shatters. Conflicted, he wants you to stop as well as he wants you to keep going. This has to be done. This should never be done. He's in love with you. You will never love him. You won't hurt him. He'll be hurt once again. Hectic, opposing thoughts are constantly fighting in his mind, leaving him frozen in fear and panicked. So, since he can't think straight, he does the only thing he can think of and sends a silent prayer to the gods. May they help him; help you.

Uselessly closing your eyes behind the blindfold, you gather your strength. Ivar didn't stop you. That's good. That means he wants you to do it, right? Inhaling deeply, you try to stop the shaking in your hands, and then, slightly leaning forward, you let your fingertips run over his thighs, barely touching them. You forget how to breathe and Ivar is so still, so quiet, you think he's not breathing either.

As you become bolder, you place the flat of your hands on his legs, careful not to apply any pressure. Under your palms, you can feel every bump, every scar, every broken bone. Your movements intentionally agonizingly slow, your hands move down to his protruding knee caps before finding his atrophied calves, their wasted muscles evident to the touch. You can't think how painful walking, or even just standing up, must be. The thought spreads a dull ache in your chest, but you keep your face emotionless, aware that if you can't see him, Ivar can see you. Rather than dwelling on it, you continue exploring, and when your fingers brush against the sole of one of his misshaped, scrawny feet, Ivar flinches. "Sorry," you mumble, "I didn't know you were ticklish." Since Ivar doesn't react, you're not sure he heard you and decide to slowly move your hands up his legs, placing them back on his bony thighs.

Keeping his eyes on you the whole time, Ivar struggles to breathe, his heart pounding wildly in his rib cage. He's surprised, he must say. He expected to see disgust or pity on your face, but there's none of that. Of course, he can't see your eyes, but a small smile never leaves your lips. Could it be that you're not disgusted? In any case, you don't seem troubled by what you're feeling. Maybe you're hiding it, but if so, you're hiding it well. He's also surprised because he expected to hate every moment of the process. Himself, he's all the time trying to avoid touching his legs. He hates PT sessions and doctor's appointments with a passion for a reason. But your touch is… enjoyable if he can push away all his doubts and his awful thoughts. It strikes him all of a sudden: it's probably the first time someone touches his legs for no reason at all. They were regularly massaged, checked for injuries, examined, palpated; of course, they were. But there was always a medical reason. Even when his mother touched them, it was to ease the pain. But you… you decided to touch his ugly limbs just because you wanted to. And just now, he realizes how much he missed that. Can he really miss something he's never known? He's not sure, but here he is, enjoying your featherlike touch, craving it, not wanting it to stop. Yes, he likes it; needs it. But what if, after tonight, you don't want to touch them again? He wouldn't blame you, who would want to touch such repulsive things? The thought brings bile to his throat and he knows it won't stop plaguing his mind. So he has to know, whatever it takes. Moving for the first time, he runs a trembling hand through his hair and summons all his courage.

"You… you didn't say a word." His quivering voice startles you, making your heart swell with sadness. You don't need your eyes to know that Ivar is filled with dread. The need to reassure him compels you to blindly fumble on the bed until you find his hand, which you grasp between yours. "What do you want me to say?" You ask cautiously, your thumb lightly stroking his knuckles.

You can feel Ivar stiffening, his fingernails probably bruising your palms as he lets out a shuddering breath. "I…" He stops to swallow. "The… truth, Y/N. Go ahead, speak your mind. You… you touched…" He stutters, and you're willing to bet his eyes are tightly shut, his tone giving away his level of anxiety. "… you touched them. My legs, I mean. I know… I know how they feel, ugly and disgusting… no need to sugarcoat your thoughts… I… I can handle the truth…" His voice cracks at the end, contradicting his words.

Releasing his hand, you graze his right thigh with gentle fingers. "No, Ivar", you speak softly yet firmly, "that's not how they feel, at least not to me." You know you have to be honest, you can't just say nonsensical, lovey-dovey things, he won't buy it. "I won't tell you they feel beautiful. They don't." Choosing your words carefully, you let your pointer finger follow a massive scar from his mid-thigh to his knee. "They feel different, and yes, you can feel the scars. It must have been painful, it's probably still is. But I promise you, they're not disgusting. They're your legs. They say a lot, Ivar. They're telling a story, your story. That's why I wanted to know them because as I said earlier, I want to know all about you. And they are part of you. I do think they finally deserve to be cared about, to be loved. Let me love them…" You whisper the last words, feeling vulnerable. 'Let me love you…' is what you want to add, but you know you can't, not yet, so instead you lean forward, your lips brushing and then kissing his thigh.

Something between a whine and a choked sob escapes his lips and you can hear his breath hitch as his hand gets up close to your neck. "Did I hurt you?" You ask with concern, frowning behind the blindfold.

Ivar can't help but smile, even if you can't see it. "No!" he replies quickly, his hand now on the back of your head. "I wasn't expecting that, the kiss I mean, but I… liked it." He explains shyly, surprised by his own words. "Actually, I loved it." He's not lying. He loved the kiss, he loved your words; it's as if a tremendous weight had just been lifted off of him. Part of him tells him not to believe everything you said, but he decides not to. He didn't hear any malice or mischief in your voice. He knows you were being genuine. That's why, choosing to chase the disbelief away, he decides to trust you completely. And that's why, suddenly, without warning, he pulls off the blindfold.

"What are you doing, Ivar?" You squeak, immediately closing your eyes and picking up the comforter. But as you intend to cover his legs, Ivar grabs your wrists with both hands. "Just leave it where it is." He retorts before letting out a heavy sigh. "And open your eyes."

You do as you're told, but keep your eyes on his face. There are tears in his eyes and a whirlwind of emotions. "Just look at them, Y/N." He almost commands you, but you know that's a way to hide his true feelings behind bravado.

Blinking a few times and scrunching your face, you tilt your head to the side, scrutinizing him. "Are you sure?"

Your lover just shrugs, biting his lower lip. "Will I ever be?" Taking a deep breath, he adds in a murmur. "But I trust you."

***

Later that night, as you're sound asleep, your head on his chest and his arm around your waist, Ivar can't get sleep, amazed that you didn't run away. He keeps replaying what you did when you saw his legs. You had just smiled. And kissed them one more time. And then thanked him for trusting you, for allowing you to love them. Moved and overwhelmed, he could see the matching tears in your eyes, but no sadness on your face. What he saw instead was relief, and care, and… love?

Kissing your head, he mumbles. "It is I who should be thanking you. I don't know what I did to deserve someone like you, but whatever it was, I'm glad. If angels are real, you're mine. I won't let you go, Y/N, never ever."

"I love you…" He finally whispers, taking advantage of your slumber. Well, little does he know you're awake but staying perfectly still. You know you weren't meant to hear those three words, not yet. And it doesn't matter. You can wait. You and Ivar have a lifetime to love each other.

All of him. All of you.

🛡⚔️🛡

@honestsycrets @lisinfleur @waiting4inspiration @saldelys @gearhead66 @inforapound @readsalot73 @milkkygirls @xbellaxcarolinax @shannygoatgruff @zuxiezendler @a-mess-of-fandoms @hecohansen31 @lonewolf471 @ivarthebloodyking @fuckindiva @tgrrose @didiintheblog @peachyboneless @funmadnessandbadassvikings @ethereallysimple @destynelseclipsa

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seacottons · 3 years

Text

[ idol!au ] — ateez x 7/11 employee reader

notes: this is so fucking stupid i'm cackling. some are based on their vlogs : minkiway, achallenz, ateezlog, and 1day vlog.

— hongjoong

"Let's get the strawberry yogurt smoothie."

"But we already got too many custard and pudding cups?"

"Do you want San to mope for the next two days?"

"No?"

"Alright then. So, get the yogurt smoothie."

You hear the commotion and bickering before even spotting the two, a faint smile finding itself onto your features. You most definitely weren't eavesdropping. Their bickering was audible throughout the entire expanse of the small store, and you finally peered up from organizing the display of flavored gum to spot the smaller of the two give the taller an exasperated expression.

"You know I don't like spicy! Why would you even suggest that, you bum?"

"You asked for my opinion, Joong," Seonghwa rolls his eyes, gaze locking with yours in the process. A knowing smile crawls its way onto his visage for a brief second, before it's replaced with a faux look of concern, "Oh! Y/n! Why don't you suggest something new for Hongjoong to try out?"

At the sound of your name being called, the smaller male stiffens considerably, hand nearly loosening around the packet of kimbap in his hands. With a suspicious glare, his head instantly snaps to his friend, who in return sent a friendly smile towards you. Seonghwa nearly laughed at the flustered male in his peripheral vision, before nodding in acknowledgment towards you once you made yourself towards the aisle. Hongjoong helplessly watched as you conversed with Seonghwa, your laughter ringing in his ears like soft, melodious chimes.

The tips of Hongjoong's ears burned red, his hand subconsciously reaching up several times to tussle his tresses and hide the obvious signs of his infatuation and nervousness. Seonghwa's eyes glimmered with mischief as they briefly darted to eye his sweating comrade.

"I really like this one," you picked up a warm pack of the spicy cheese kimbap to offer them a look, your eyes flickering to Hongjoong immediately, "But you don't like anything spicy, right Hong-"

"I'll take it!"

Seonghwa merely casts him a look of surprise, and Hongjoong almost stutters as the taller scrutinizes him. Was he that obvious?

"I've actually been enjoying spicy food for the past few weeks," he claims defensively, shoulders straightening and frame subconsciously leaning towards your own as he quickly picks up a conversation with you, cheeks red and lips tugged up into a jaw-breaking smile.

When the two step out of the small convenience store, plastic bags in hand, Seonghwa waste no millisecond to address the elephant in the room, tone complacent and all.

"You're whipped."

— seonghwa

You stare at the blue cart filled to the brim with yogurt cups, and you give the tall male a puzzled look. You were accustomed to having the eight men from upstairs purchase an abundance of food, from dried goods to ready-to-eat meals, but this was new.

"Seonghwa, is this really for all eight of you? Just.. yogurt," you mused curiously, hesitant hands reaching towards the yogurt cups to begin scanning and bagging them.

"Yes and no," he offers a soft smile, hands reaching towards the number candle display, rolling it to the side in search of the desired numbers. He places a number 2 and 3 onto the counter, and you're even more confused than before, "It's for Hongjoong's cake. His birthday is today."

"Then why do you need the yogurt?"

"The yogurt is the cake."

Your lips form a silent 'oh' as you nodded absentmindedly. The two of you share a moment of silence, before your shared laughter erupts throughout the convenience store.

"How thoughtful of you, Hwa," you drawl out teasingly, gaze unwavering from his chiseled face, "That's cute. I bet he'll love it."

Seonghwa nods silently, a polite smile brightening his features as he helps you with the items and bags, insisting he'll pack up the yogurt while you scan. He had a habit of always needing to help and making sure he wasn't being too much of a bother. His head snaps up once you call his name for nth time, and a faint dusting of pink blooms on his facial features as he meets your gaze, "Oh. Sorry, did you call me?"

You giggle lightheartedly as you finalize the amount of his purchase, eyes curiously meeting his, "If you were to pick a non-traditional birthday cake, what would it be?"

"Ah, tteokbokki," he states without a second to lose, eyes sparkling underneath the fluorescent lights of the store, "it will definitely be tteokbokki."

"When the time comes, I'll gladly make you a tteokbokki birthday cake," you accept the cash from his hands, before closing the cash register with a bump of your hip, hands working on tying the two plastic bags filled with yogurt cups, "I mean- of course, if you don't mind that is?"

A bashful smile nearly breaks his face into two as he accepts the bags, hands purposefully brushing against your knuckles a second too long as he nearly laughs in amusement at your nervous smile, "I'd love that, Y/n."

— yunho

You wrap the damp rag around your lithe finger to wipe around the buttons and crevices of the dusty cash register. Once it was practically sparkling, you decided to wipe away at the glass fridge displays, roughly rubbing the stubborn fingerprints that remained on the surface.

The doorbell chimed, and from where you stood, you were unable to see the customer that had just walked in. The sound of a group of males pierced the silence of the store, along with the rumbling of the vending machines in the corner. Nevertheless, you called out with a warm welcome and hastily wiped the last of the few glass doors. Your co-worker was supposed to be here minutes ago, while you were slaving around cleaning the place all on your own and dealing with customers simultaneously.

Removing your gloves, you internally grumbled at the fact your co-worker was late from lunch for the third time this same week. Stomping your way towards the cash register you failed to remember to add a wet-floor sign onto the area you had just mopped, utterly forgetting about the whole ordeal as you made yourself to the front of the store. As you turned the corner, your sneakers skidded loudly against the slippery tiles, your frame instantly thrown off balance as a clipped yelp left your mouth, hands bracing in front of your face to shield it from any damage.

It took a few seconds for you to realize a pair of arms were secured around your waist, and you silently gaped at the male above you with a stupefied expression.

Of course, it had to be him.

The very same man you've been crushing on for a few months now. The very same man who worked three stories above you.

Yunho was so graceful for someone so tall.

"Oh, thanks," he laughed in amusement at your shocked expression, your hands reaching up to clamp around your mouth in horror, "Are you okay though? You... uh, you should put a wet-floor sign. Wouldn't want anyone suing you for falling, now would you?"

Heaven knows you were never more thankful for your co-worker being late again than ever before. You were so close to him, you can practically smell the cologne sprayed on his neck.

"No! No, of course not! I'll get it right away!"

When you scurry from his arms and to the back to rummage in the closet, Wooyoung's voice and laughter ring out loudly behind you.

"But you fall harder every time we come here! Just sue Y/n alread—" a muffled sound of a punch and a loud squeal of pain followed suit, "Ow! Hulk hands! What was that for!?"

— yeosang

In the late hours of the evening, you found yourself guiding Yeosang through the aisles of the convenience store for a mission he had to complete for a series they were filming. When you spotted no cameras around, you sighed in relief.

"You know you're cheating, right?" You ask as the male crouches down to examine the array of rice balls and other food on display.

"There are no cameras here. No one will know."

You pause momentarily to glance at the security camera nestled in the corner, before rolling your eyes and crouching next to him to aid him in his task. This isn't an uncommon occurrence. Yeosang has come down to the store numerous times to grab items for the vlogs he filmed. One time it was utensils and a bowl, and the other time was an abundance of gummy bears.

"I can't believe you're making me do this for you," you laugh in disbelief as he stands to watch you look around for a particular item.

"You know what my members like more than I do," he muses with a soft smile, "they practically live here."

"Yeosang," you called out with a quirk of your brow, "you live with them. If anyone's capable, it's you."

"I know. I still need your help though."

You internally sigh and get to work, not that you minded in the slightest. Your heart was practically hammering out of your chest the moment he stepped foot inside the store.

"The guys usually get this pack of ramyun almost every visit, along with this rice ball," you arrange the food in his cart, before dragging him into another aisle, "We also got this new shipment of honey rice cakes- I'm sure Seonghwa will like them. He usually prefers the older types of snacks. Wait. Do you need Mingi's diarrhea medicine too?" You joke with a lighthearted laugh.

Yeosang gives you a grimace, and his judging eyes study you for a second too long that has your neck and ears heating up rapidly, "No, Y/n. Mingi's digestive system is doing just fine now.."

Yeosang nods absentmindedly as he's dragged to and fro from one aisle to the next, unable to focus on the words that come flying rapidly from your mouth "..And Hongjoong always tries new potato chips every time he visits, but these are his favorite, I can tell. San likes anything sweet. If there's no more yogurt smoothies left, just get a chocolate bar."

You peer at Yeosang who remained silent the entire time, his unfocused gaze trained on you. With a snap of your fingers in front of his face, he startles at the sudden sound, eyes wide and darting rapidly in confusion, "Oh! Sorry, Y/n. I got distracted there. Did you say something?"

"Cute," you laugh airily at his flustered expression, thumb jutting behind you towards the drink display, "I almost forgot the most important item- coke! You guys are the reason it's always out of stock here."

Taking a look at the clock above the door, you gawp in disbelief as you wait for the male to fish out his wallet, "Yeo, you've been here for the past half hour. They're going to think you got lost."

"No, that's alright," Yeosang mumbles as he hands you a sufficient amount of cash for the items, eyes looking anywhere but your face, "We should do this again sometime."

"Hm," you glance back up at him questioningly, "Sure. Whenever your next challenge is, I suppose. I don't mind helping."

He reaches up to awkwardly scratch his neck, lips pressing together into a firm line before he has the courage to meet your eyes and reply, "Oh- no. I meant.. on our own free time. No challenge. Just us two. Hanging out? Buying snacks?"

You almost stumble over yourself at his words, hands clammy and face burning. Nodding subtly, you fail to realize the goofy, flirtatious smile settling on your face as you hand him the receipt.

"Challenge accepted."

— san

"And they said it tastes like toothpaste! Can you believe them?"

You reached out to pat a hand onto the taller male's back in a caring manner, nodding when he asked you how ridiculous the other members' statements were.

"Yes, of course," you console him as you carefully organized the new shipment of chocolate bars on display, allowing the male to vent to you in the aisles of the convenience store he frequently visited from upstairs. He's also been trying to persuade you to join his mint chocolate cult for the past two weeks now.

"Mint chocolate doesn't taste like toothpaste! Toothpaste tastes like mint chocolate," San brushes a hand through his pink locks, eyeing you for a reply in agreement. You think he only came down here not only to vent, but to also fuel his ego by finding another person to agree with his statements and judge his friends' taste in food- other than Mingi, of course, "don't you agree?"

You nearly laugh at the awaiting gaze that overtakes his features. He was very serious about this topic, so it was safe to assume his older friends bashed the flavor to the point San took it almost personally, "Yes, San. For the hundredth time, mint and chocolate are the perfect pair. They're like.. peanut butter and jelly. Cheese and corn. Strawberries and bananas. And-"

"Me and you."

You think you hear wrong as he quickly dashes towards the ice cream freezer to grab a handful of mint chocolate ice cream pints.

"What?"

"Hm?" he has the audacity to tilt his head in amusement, eyes practically twinkling with mischief, "What's the matter, Y/n?"

How dare he fluster you like this. Your jaw is slack as he walks back over to you with the same, bright smile and dimple on display. The words nearly die in your throat as he looms over you with a look of mock curiosity and innocence, "N-nothing, uh- do you want me to check you out?"

"You're more than welcome to anytime, Y/n. No need to ask."

His smile stretches in amusement as your eyes widen in shock. He knew what he was doing to you. You choked out a response, nodding your head as you made yourself over to the register counter.

Once placing the ice cream pints and eight plastic spoons in the bag, you handed it to the bubblegum haired male, whose eyes crinkled happily, "No need to be shy, Y/n. Sometimes, all you need is," he reached over to press the tip of your nose back with the pad of his finger, "encourage-mint."

His laughter rung like the bell chime that signaled his departure, and before he turned the corner to go back to the entertainment building upstairs, he sent you a quick and mischievous wink.

— mingi

The steam from your ramyun cup swirled up to meet the cold air as you sat alone in front of the convenience store for your lunch break. You watched as people scuttled through the streets in an attempt to avoid the light misting of rain. The cup of steaming noodles helped warm your hands though, and the store awning provided enough shelter from the rain.

Taking a generous amount of noodles in your mouth, you slightly wince at the searing temperature on your lips.

"Y/n? What're you doing out here?"

A voice caught your attention, and your head snaps up to meet the eyes of the well-dressed male standing nearby with a to-go bag in hand. You stare with stuffed cheeks and wide eyes, quickly ducking your head to drop the remaining noodles hanging from your lips back into the steaming cup. You don't know why he's asking a question like that. He, along with the others, have numerously visited the store or were nearby when you were on your lunch break. Even Yunho memorized your lunch schedule throughout the week.

"Mingi! Hi-" you cough out suddenly, hand quickly reaching up to wipe the sauce from your lips. He makes his way over to where you're sitting, before plopping beside you and proceeding to open the bag in his hands. You give him a questioning look, and when he feels his eyes on you, he turns to you with a smile.

"You don't mind if I eat lunch with you, yeah?" He snaps his chopsticks apart and gives you a hopeful look, "You just seem all bored and lonely by yourself."

You stare flabbergasted at his words, before shaking your head almost too quickly after a moment of silence. You didn't mind the lack of company actually, but Mingi was too sweet for you to deny, "No, of course not. But it's okay, you don't have to-"

"One doesn't let their friend eat all alone," he simpers, before eyeing his styrofoam box and thrusting it in front of you, "Here! You should try some barbecue eel. It's perfect for this kind of weather."

The two of you spent the next half hour conversing and stuffing your mouths full of food he had gotten from his mother's restaurant. His eyes sparkled once you complimented his mother's cooking skills, and a contagious smile found itself on his visage as you asked for the name of the place. He slurped another strand of noodle into his mouth before boisterously replying with a raised brows and a bright smile.

"I'll see if I'll have time this weekend to visit it," you accepted the napkin he offered you to wipe your mouth, before crumbling it and tidying up the area. He stands to discard the empty boxes of food and bags before checking the time on his phone.

"I'd love to spend more time with you, but Hongjoong will have my ass if I don't go back in time," he laughs loudly while dusting his clothes to rid himself of any fallen crumb, "Oh! Here's a card for my mother's restaurant! I always carry some with me wherever I go."

You accepted it with a grateful smile, brows knitting in confusion at the numbers scribbled on the corner of the small business card, "Oh, there's a number here? Is it their new number?"

"It's mine," he says while patting your head with a cheeky smile, "Next time, we should eat together there— where it's warm and not out here in the freezing cold."

You gape in awe at him, face flushing almost immediately. Mingi smiles, internally reminding himself to thank Yunho for the idea later.

— wooyoung

"Y/n! I can't believe you betrayed me like this!?"

Peeking your head up curiously, you quirked a brow in the direction of the heaving male, "What are you talking about?"

You place the last stack of cash into the register before closing it shut. The display of candy near the register needed organizing, and you sigh to yourself before you begin working on it. His friends stand outside, in front of the store, conversing amongst each other as they waited for him to finish grabbing 'something extremely important'.

Your friend nearly reached over the counter to shake you by your shoulders with an exasperated cry of anguish, "You told me you'll save me at least one of the BTS cold brew bottles! They're all sold out! Again!"

Oh. Of course that was the problem.

You roll your eyes at his dramatic rant, elbows resting onto the counter as you leaned forward teasingly. You were grateful no one else was in the store while Wooyoung had his meltdown. He would've probably frightened them anyway.

"I told you when the new shipment comes in to save me each version of them!"

"Wooyoung- it's just canned americano. We have plenty more brands to tr-"

"No! It has BTS on the packaging!" He explains quickly, "Don't you realize it's a godsend to have packaged food and drinks with their faces on it!?"

"You're going to throw the packaging away anyway! What's the point?" Your unimpressed face studies his in confusion. Internally, you smile to yourself at his frustrated tone. You love to rile him up.

When you were met with silence, you scrunched your nose in distaste, arms crossing in front of your chest defensively. He looks a bit flustered at your gaze, shoulders shrugging silently.

"Gross! Wooyoung, were you seriously planning on keeping and collecting them? Aren't you overdoing it?"

He lets out an indignant squawk and pins you with a pointed stare, which you returned with a blank blinking of your eyes.

"I don't tell you how to live."

Rolling your eyes, you turn to rummage through your bag tucked beneath the counter, before fishing out two cans of the americano. Wooyoung's eyes open wide in astonishment.

"You're lucky I remembered. My manager only let me buy two."

"Y/n?" He scrambles to the counter to take a good look at the cans, before he finds himself tugging you forward by your head with a loud cry of excitement, to which you groaned in protest, "I knew it! I knew you wouldn't let me down!"

Your face flushes at the close proximity and when the bell chimes signaling a new customer, your heart drops to your stomach in fright. You did not need anyone witnessing this. Wooyoung's grip was relentless as he squeezed your cheeks together and continued to praise you for being the most trustworthy person he knows.

"Wooyoung, how many times have I told you harassing someone isn't the way to express your feelings," Hongjoong's annoyed voice calls out from the front.

— jongho

You attempted to remain inconspicuous as you huddled over your phone over the counter, eyes glued onto the screen displaying the current live video. You swore you could hear their rackety footsteps and shouts from three stories below. You wouldn't be surprised if one of them came crashing down from the ceiling one day. An infatuated sigh and droopy smile tugged at your lips as you leaned your cheek against your palm.

A few minutes later, you had to mute your phone to attend a customer ( because heaven knows how loud and rowdy they get when they're all together. And you didn't need their argument about butts to blast out throughout the store ). To your displeasure, another few came strolling in. You wanted to groan in frustration at their impeccable timing. Of course, Ateez would start a live during your shift, and of course customers came flocking in as if the convenience store was suddenly a magnet.

By now, you've missed a good portion of the live, and some of the customers gave you wary looks as you trembled to hastily bag every item they purchased. You nearly ripped the register out in the process of your haste.

You thought it was finally the last of the burdensome customers, when a handful of bags of chips, ice cream pints, and ramyun cups were placed onto the counter. Sighing subtly, you glance up to give the customer a fake smile, only to gape as the male across from you has his eyes set onto your phone screen.

You feel the force of heat rush to your face like a volcano spitting out molten magma, and with a noise between a strangled gasp and cry, your hand quickly slams on top of your phone to shield the screen and hopefully save the last bit of dignity left in your system. You gripped it against your chest with a panicked grin, and his eyes flickered down and then back up to meet your own.

The last thing you wanted was for the boys to know you keep tab of their activities and projects. You were just supposed to be the friendly clerk downstairs. You muster up the energy to not feel too affected by the questioning stare the other is giving you.

"Well," the male chuckles at your perplexed and flustered expression, "I've caught you red handed, Y/n."

Your smile falters at the accusation.

"It's not what it looks like. It just popped up from my notifications- I wasn't even-"

"Hey, hey!" He suddenly quips playfully, arms out in front of him in defense, "No need to be so defensive. So, I take it you were lying when you said you weren't an Atiny?"

Your silence was a dead giveaway, and his smile only grew wider as you attempted to shrink into yourself.

"Who's your bias?" He tried again, and you laughed it off, quickly changing the topic by asking him how many napkins and spoons he needed for the ice cream. He reached a hand up to brush the red bangs from his eyes, before looming over the register a bit suspiciously. When your head snaps up to give him a look of confusion, his attention is suddenly drawn to the gas medicine displayed on the counter. You sigh in relief as you hand him the bags before wishing him a good rest of the day.

"Y/n?"

Before he bid you farewell from the door, he waved a hand up, mischievous smile plying at his lips, "Nice photocard you have there on your phone."

Your eyes glance down immediately to your device resting on the counter, breath leaving your lungs in embarrassment as the same red-head smiles back at you from your phone. Jongho's laughter can still be heard from outside even with the door shut, and you suddenly wish the floor will swallow you up to save the remaining crumb of dignity you had left.

#ateez headcanons #ateez x reader #ateez reactions #ateez scenarios #ateez fluff #hongjoong x reader #seonghwa x reader #yunho x reader #yeosang x reader #san x reader #wooyoung x reader #jongho x reader #mingi x reader

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mistaeq · 4 years

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Kakyoin Noriaki: Birthday Boy HCs

TW // none

Something special for cherry boy's birthday! Let me point out that these headcanons take place after part 3. Yes. My birthday present for Noriaki is writing of him ALIVE. Because we deserved it.

Kakyoin Noriaki being the best birthday boy Headcanons, neutral!s/o

WORD COUNT: 1.44k

He hasn't celebrated many birthdays of his, so the boy isn't really used to what you usually do during a birthday.

Noriaki spent almost all of his birthdays alone with Hierophant Green, along with his family, because of a sad lack of friends.

When he learns you want to actually spend his birthday with him, Kakyoin's on cloud nine, he couldn't imagine you could care for him so much.

You do your best to make sure his day is happy and full of good things happening to him the whole time. He's so excited at the thought, he looks like a baby.

When you knock at his door at morning, two gifts in your arms, he's already eager to open them, and puppy eyes you when you tell him that the best part and the gifts, too, are for the night.

Just the day before, you told him he would have to dress up and get ready, because you would have brought him in a place that could be defined as a paradise, for him. You could tell from the look in his eyes that he just couldn't wait anymore.

"Since I have no driving license and you can't drive because you're the birthday boy, we'll just get there with a bus. It's a little less elegant than I would have wanted, but we have what we have."

He smiled for the whole time on the bus. Noriaki genuinely didn't care whether you were on a bus or on a limousine, you were already offering a beautiful birthday, and that was enough.

You held on his arm for the whole time on the bus because of the ridiculous and huge amount of people on that vehicle. He was the only thing you could hold on. He blushed a lot.

After you got off the bus you kept holding on his arm.

"How are you still wearing that uniform, Noriaki... it's the 28th of fucking July..."

"It's stylish, y/n. And it's green."

You brought him inside a huge, new, videogame store. It was a part of the city he really didn't visit much, so he had no idea. But now he would have wanted to hang out there more often.

As you were still holding on his arm, he was carrying you around the store like a horse would pull a chariot, and you could just lovingly admire his red cheeks and wide eyes happily exploring the store with his gaze.

After he finally found a new videogame he had been thinking about buying for days, you just quickly took it from his hands and rushed to the cash desk, so that you could pay it for him as a third gift without him knowing how much you had paid for it.

You could tell he was happy, when as soon as you arrived back at his home and you offered to play it with him. You always declined, when he asked you to play with him, but now you wanted to try, for him.

You sat on his lap the whole time, his hands on yours guiding you on how to use the game controller.

When it was finally afternoon, you pulled out of the bag you brought with you some ingredients for something that looked like a birthday cake.

"Hope you at least have the basic stuff like sugar and whipped cream, Noriaki, because I couldn't bring anything more with me."

When he understood you were gonna make a cake, his eyes widened like a cat that's just seen something it likes.

No, unfortunately you didn't play with ingredients as it would happen often, the whole process was kinda successful, but you found the occasion to feed Kakyoin a cherry.

After dinner and before you ate the cake, Noriaki called Jotaro, to tell him about the beautiful day you organized for his birthday.

He wanted you to sing Happy Birthday for him because nobody had ever done that before. He clapped a little before blowing on his birthday candles. He's too special for this world.

While you were trying the result of your intense afternoon of baking, he fed you a cherry, too.

He finally opened the gifts you had brought that morning, but before, he changed his uniform to a comfy, green, elephant patterned pajamas. The cutest thing ever.

The first present, is a large, cream colored scarf. You knew it was a little out of season, since it's July, but you always heard him complaining about the fact that he absolutely wanted that scarf, and you couldn't wait anymore.

Polnareff had bought him the same scarf so when Noriaki told Jean about the gifts you gave him, the french boi had to change his one afterwards.

BONUS SCENE

"You still have the last one..." as you pushed the box towards Kakyoin, your heart started to beat a lot faster. You really hoped he would have enjoyed your surprise, or you would probably have ruined a beautiful day.

You were sitting on the sofa, your legs crossed, one in front of the other, the gift in the middle. He happily untied the bow on top of it, and opened the lid. Another box was in it. Noriaki's gaze flew to yours, giggling. "You didn't." he laughed, opening the second box to reveal a third box.

"Oh my god you did." he playfully pretended to be pissed. "How many boxes are there, come on?" He was so cute, while he was opening the third, fourth and fifth box. He was down to play this mess with you.

"Long, long is the road to Egypt..." you teased him, watching him sarcastically smirk, untying the nth bow. He huffed, quietly giggling.

"I swear to God y/n, if after all of this in the last box there's nothing..." he clenched his teeth, trying to untie a knot too tight. You were sure about this now. You liked him so much, you could tell that you loved him.

"Who knows?" you teased again, laughing and trying to hide the way your heart was pounding in your chest. "What are you gonna do if in the last box there's nothing, Noriaki?" were you provoking him? He looked at you for a couple of seconds, a giggle lingering on his lips, before keeping on opening boxes.

"Think I got to the last one..." probably. Because it wasn't a box anymore. It was just a small, really small, packaging. Kakyoin curiously looked for a way to open it, and let whatever was inside slip on his hand. "What's this... a..." he laughed. "A cherry chapstick?" your heart was going faster than Lightning McQueen.

"This... this is cute, y/n, but... I don't really use chaps-"

"I know." you said, taking it from his hand, his jaw falling as you were the one putting the cherry chapstick on. "I just wanted to make your last present a little more... enjoyable, for you." you heart was now in your throat.

"Wha-"

He was cut off by cherry flavored soft lips on his. It took a bit for him to understand that the gift wasn't the cherry chapstick. But your kiss. Without any doubt, a great gift. As soon as he fully understood what was going on, Noriaki melted in your kiss, wrapping his arms around you.

You felt your heart slow down, now knowing that Kakyoin actually liked you back. Little did you know that he had liked you since the trip to Cairo with the Crusaders, and that it evolved to love afterwards. And it was starting to sting, not knowing whether you loved him back or not.

When you parted from your kiss, it was just because you needed air. Otherwise you would've happily continued. "You've been driving me crazy, you know?"

"Mh?" you asked him, after his words.

"I've loved you for an embarrassing amount of time." hearing that, you smiled and held him closer. "And if today this hadn't happened, I would have been so ready to plan on confessing, y/n. Like tomorrow. I just needed to get that off my chest."

"You?" you booped his nose with yours. "Confessing to me?" you imagined it all, and thought that it would have been worth it to wait. But you couldn't turn back time, it already happened, now. "Sounds good."

After a second, you started to feel your bodies oddly warm, as if something was holding you in a loving embrace. It took you going to check in every room, just to find your stand and Hierophant Green cuddling together.

No doubts. A perfect birthday, for a perfect birthday boy(friend).

#jojo's bizarre adventure #jojo x reader #jojo headcanons #jojo part three #stardust crusaders #noriaki kakyoin #kakyoin x reader

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horrorslashergirl · 3 years

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Alexander Chirilă SFW Alphabet

A = Affection (How affectionate are they? How do they show affection?)

Alexander is very reluctant and reserved when it comes to his personal space so don't expect him to kiss, hug or cuddle you out of his own free will. If you show him affection at the beginning he will be suspicious and unsure, very awkward about it. Later on, with baby steps he will be more comfortable with this, and once you gain his trust he will welcome your affection, but that is a very rare thing. The secret is to take things slowly, don't fully pull him into a surprise hug.

Once you have his full trust, he will show affection into his own way; he will cook for you delicious meals, will spend quiet time with you in the morning around nature while you two sip on tea, he will tell you about his past and advenatures, take walks with you while holding hands, which is a BIG DEAL. For him holding hands is a deep spiritual form of bonding.

B = Best friend (What would they be like as a best friend? How would the friendship start?)

Friendship is half of how the relationship starts. You need to take your time with him, observe him and understand his persona. Everything is about earning his trust, doesn't matter if you want a relationship or a friendship. You cannot force friendship on him and expect him to be accepting of you. Just get to know him. Just chatting about simple things in life, like what he likes and doesn't.... But no personal sensitive questions at first like about his family or intimate sexual questions. If you do so, he will only get embarassed, flustered and he will hide into his steel like shell and won't come out after a while. That also depends on the person.

C = Cuddles (Do they like to cuddle? How would they cuddle?)

Cuddling will be something that will happen later on in the relationship or friendship, once he is comfortable with you and will aceept you into his personal bubble. He is very gentle and quiet when cuddling, maybe some small exchange of words here and there. His intimate touch is very soft and carefull, the opposite of his killing and assasination.

D = Domestic (Do they want to settle down? How are they at cooking and cleaning?)

Alexander never was one to think about relationship, much less about settling down with someone, but once he may find that special someone, he can be very domestic. He is used to clean the whole house, cook breakfast, lunch and dinner and even attending to the garden. He is very domestic into his everyday life when not being his assassin self. If you will achieve the rarity of being his s/o you will wake up with a delicious rich breakfast, your clothes all freshly cleaned at the end of the bed. During his training with his former Master, he did all of that... Cooking, cleaning, gardening.... And he had to do them to complete Perfection.

E = Ending (If they had to break up with their partner, how would they do it?)

Alexander never had a relationship in his whole life and there's no doubt he wouldn’t know how to do it. He is completly clueless at how relationship work. The only relationship that he is aware of is the Master-Pupil one.

F = Fiance(e) (How do they feel about commitment? How quick would they want to get married?)

Marriage has never been a prospect that has ever crossed Alexanders life, but if you managed to be his s/o you will have his undying devotation. He is the type to be gratefull for things such as love, that he has never crossed paths with. In his opinion a s/o is a rare treasure. Once you managed to open the steel gate to his love, he will be 100% loyal and never betray you.

G = Gentle (How gentle are they, both physically and emotionally?)

Physically, Alexander is the most gentle guy you will ever meet. The complete opposite of his assassin way, if you are someone close to him, especially his s/o, he will treat you like the most fragile flower ever. He knows how vulnerable humans are and how easy it can be to break them so he is soft into his touching and probably reluctant about it.

As for emotionally? He is a tornado of emotions, considering his bad temper and how easily he loses his cool when teased. He is quiet and reserved but once approached anything can happen with how unstable he is. It can go so many ways; if you tease him, he might get all flustered and blushing, a shuttering mess or if you pull on his anger he will yell profanities and storm off to be alone.

H = Hugs (Do they like hugs? How often do they do it? What are their hugs like?)

Not a person to give hugs, but if you are his s/o he will welcome them, but still blush slightly. He is just not used to phsyhical affection and gets awkward about it.

I = I love you (How fast do they say the L-word?)

This word has always been an enigma for Alexander and he doesn't know much about this department. Don't expect him to say these words so fast. It takes time and work to manage for him to say this sentence, but once he says it, there is no going back. You better be honest about your feelings for him. If he says that he loves you he means it with every cell into his body. Don't betray his trust. He prefers a punch into the face than a knife into the back. If you hurt his feelings and break his heart, he will turn his back to you and never go back. You cannot expect to break a mirror and out it back together and still see a perfect reflection. Once he loves he loves with his full heart. He is very sensitive.

J = Jealousy (How jealous do they get? What do they do when they’re jealous?)

Depends on what.... He has always been jealous of his big brother for people being charmed by him, by the fact his parents choosed Decebal and not him. Jealousy will make Alexander very bitter and just sulk in silence.

K = Kisses (What are their kisses like? Where do they like to kiss you? Where do they like to be kissed?)

Alexanders kisses are shy and inexperienced, very slow and innocent like, perhaps with a drop of curiousity. He has never kissed anyone in his life so he feels unsure of how he should take things. You will have to initiate the kisses and take the steering wheel in everything that means intimate touch with this man.

He would probably like to kiss you on the cheek; simple and without too much work, of fear that if things are more complicated he might do something wrong.

The best way to kiss Alexander and get the most satisfying reactions from him is to kiss and play with his ears. Its a very erogenous zone and just you nibbling and sucking on his earlobe can make him come undone and a red faced mess.

L = Little ones (How are they around children?)

Surprisingly, Alexander is calm and much more patient with children than with adults. They remind of his younger self and how clueless and easy to throw around he was, so to him children are like young birds that still need time to learn to fly.

M = Morning (How are mornings spent with them?)

Mornings with Alexander start up very early, so he can have time to do his chores; preparing breakfast, changing the bedsheets, sipping on his green tea while outside listening to the birds singing. The mornings with this man are very calm and full of tranquility, enjoying the fresh breeze in the morning that slowly fully wakes him up little by little.

N = Night (How are nights spent with them?)

Alexander loves to spend most nights, gazing at the stars before sleep, counting each costelation like counting sheeps. Most of his nights are filled by nightmares and because of where he lived, his sleep is always an agitated one. Sometimes he wishes to never sleep but he knows that the human body needs rest and to recharge himself, that's one of the reasons he counts the costelation, it helps him little by little to get sleepy.

O = Open (When would they start revealing things about themselves? Do they say everything all at once or wait a while to reveal things slowly?)

Alexander is like a papirus in an ancient language and it takes a long time for him to reveal things about himself. He isn't an open book and defenitly not one to put everything on a silver platter. If you want to learn things about him you will have to read between the lines. He is like a jigsaw puzzler and a challenge when it comes to find out who he really is inside. He may come off as hard steeled, antisocial, acidic and perhaphs bitter, but inside he is very soft, sensitive about his feelings and beliefs, shy and reluctant to let others see his vulnerabilities as well as self concious about not being 'perfect' as his former Master used to constantly say.

P = Patience (How easily angered are they?)

Alexander has a very bad temper, but he is pasive aggressive. He gets angry now and the next five minutes he gets calm. His anger is usually striked when people annoy him, not letting him be despite him warning about it. Alexanders bad temper can be ignited at any time, depending of who you are and with what you annoyed him. Its a dead race with his rage.

Q = Quizzes (How much would they remember about you? Do they remember every little detail you mention in passing, or do they kind of forget everything?)

Alexander has an IQ over 200 and remembers each tiny little detail about you. If you said you would want to try a certain food he will remeber it and if you are someone important to him he will prepare that dish the next week and surprise you all nonchalantly. He will even know how much sugar you like in your coffee, or he will remember the scent you like your clothes to have. He will know every little detail about you, he has an elephant memory and you can bet he has your full biography into his head.

R = Remember (What is their favorite moment in your relationship?)

Most likely the one where you finally earned his trust and he can be much more comfortable around you, not squeaking each time you hug him and such. He doesn't like to be a blushing and shuttering mess, a prospect he cannot control, so finally able to handle his emotions better with you, is a very good thing... Altough he still gets that cute pink blush across his cheeks from time to time.

S = Security (How protective are they? How would they protect you? How would they like to be protected?)

Alexander can be very protective of someone that means well to him, even giving his life in order to save that special someone. He is a master assassin and he surely doesn't need protection. He can handle himself very good. Take it like this; he will protect you physically from any danger and all you have to protect is his sensitive heart.

T = Try (How much effort would they put into dates, anniversaries, gifts, everyday tasks?)

A perfectionist at heart, Alexander will put 100% effort in anything he does for his s/o, be it their Birthday or simply their breakfast, everything has to be done with precision and a hawk eye. Alexander hates failure when it comes to his own persona and simply wants to be praised for a job very good done.

U = Ugly (What would be some bad habits of theirs?)

A very bad habit is his pasive-aggressive attitude of his, the incapacity to handle his emotions and how easily he loses his cool. He tries to hide his shy and awkward self with a shield of rage and anger tantrums, not wanting to be seen as weak and low.

V = Vanity (How concerned are they with their looks?)

Alexander isn't one to spend hours into the mirror but he is self concious about his scars. Most people look his way and avoid him, giving him either scared or disgusted looks. He cannot imagine someone to be attracted to his ugly marks that make him look like a monster.

If someone says that they think he is handsome or makes him a compliment he will either be a blushing mess or he will tell them not to tell ugly lies. This depends on who you are.

W = Whole (Would they feel incomplete without you?)

If he truly loves you and has made that known..... YES. Once he gives you his heart, he will fall into a sulking dark hole without you. He is the type that puts effort 100% into everything so you leaving him for example will make him feel like an incapabile idiot with zero skills just like his Master always told him.

X = Xtra (A random headcanon for them.)

His killing style varies from target to target and each kill has a meaning and different operation. For example one time in Columbia he killed three men, hung them upside down in a public place and gutted them from groin to neck, letting their insides dangle out. Its a silent message 'Don't do what these men did or you are next'. Other times he planted bombs on his targets car or house and detonated them from distance. It all depends on the target and what the one that hired Alexander wants.

Y = Yuck (What are some things they wouldn’t like, either in general or in a partner?)

In general, Alexander hates people to forcefuly try to get into his life or personal space. Mind your own business, wanker! There is a difference from taking initiative and slowly get to know him, and the being a complete idiot and stuck your nose into his business. Be respectfull of his barriers or else you will get his bitter side which stings.

Z = Zzz (What is a sleep habits of theirs?)

Alexander sleeps with his gun under the pillow. Mostly where he lived, the places were dangerous and you could always wake up with a gun pointed to your forehead or a knife at your throat. He is very vigilant at night because he knows that's when the killers and such are lurking.

#Alexander Chirilă #Sfw alphabet #Slasher OCs #Original Character #Soft Boy #Sensitive Assassin

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