#// not that he minds he's actually quite eager to learn about himself

[hellguarded-moved]

canon ig: born with bright, magenta-hued eyes that darkened into his usual crimson in adulthood modern ig: born with dark brown eyes that brightened into his usual crimson in adulthood

[beelmons]

How to shut a genius up.

Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader

cw: face riding, i think that's it?

Spencer is, gently put, annoying.

But well, aren't we all at times? At least, he's annoying for all the right reasons. Rampant mind eager to share an endless stream of knowledge, well-deserved validation of his own extraordinary skills, pinkish lips that spoke their mind without concern, words were a tool he used for good, never with an ounce of malice.

It seemed to you that talking was all he knew. No matter how much you rubbed your hand on his thigh at the bar the team went to, or that asked him for his shower after a drunk man dropped an entire yard of beer on your clothes, or the fact that you were standing in his livingroom with only a towel wrapped around your body, and how you were paying no mind to whatever he was saying and your eyes were fixed on his mouth, the same mouth you had been craving for quite a while now.

"...and that's why, although I'm not a fan of digital encyclopedias, Wikipedia can actually be considered a reliable source of information. In fact, I'd go as far as to say that the referenciation of other related concepts makes it the most efficient learning tool of the century."

Little did you know, he had begun his little rant in an attempt to keep himself distracted from your nudeness beneath the fabric that covered you. Trying to keep the blood from flowing too much to the south.

"You talk too much." you blurted out.

"Sorry?" he asked in confusion "What are you—?"

Your actions, as was your wording, were automatic. You took a couple of steps forward and faintly heard his inquiring voice in the background, but you didn't quite care. You were aiming for a goal: to make him shut up. Your lips attached to his in a frustrated kiss, arms wrapping around his neck.

He was dubfounded to a point where his movements also became clumsy, he stepped on a random book that was misplaced and lost his balance. His hands had gripped onto your sides, so you couldn't help but to fall onto the ground along with him.

The rucks caused him to wince in discomfort, a sensation the only lasted about the three seconds that took him to open his eyes. Due to the angle, you had given an extra step and fallen a couple more centimeteres forward, your towel spread open, and your stomach at the same level of his eyes.

While you yourself figured out what was going on, a sudden rush of embarassment overtook you. Logically, since you were now bare naked hovering over your crush.

"Shit!" you yelled out as you were on your knees and palms on the ground "I'm so sorry, Spencer, I don't know what took over me!"

Beridden by anguish, instead of taking the sensible action of rolling off of him, you tried to crawl your way forward. What you didn't see coming, however, was the fact that, as your knees pressed next to his head when you tried to drag yourself from his sight, his hands would press against your thighs to stop you.

Your core was now loitering over his face, out in the open for his eyes to devour. For once, he had found himself amiss of words. You, on your part, were hot to your face with shyness. This had not been what you planned when you decided to kiss him, certainly. Although, such train of thought would be shortly stopped by Spencer himself.

His arms curled around your thighs instead and gently tugged them down; by the time to were 'sitting' on his face, his tongue was already out. The feeling of his muscle entering you caused a loud, startled gasp from you, and before you could get used to the sensation, it traveled further up to your clit.

"Spencer..." you whimpered slightly at the pleasure he was giving you.

You decided to straighten your back to be fully sitting, and in this new position you were in control of your own hips, same that began to rock back and forth against his lips. On his part, single grunts of delight could be heard, his hands positioned themselves at your buttocks, helping you push your body against his face.

His mouth was eager to taste more of you, you could feel the entirety of it working it's way around your pussy, his lips slurping the juices that dripped from you out of arousal. Your hands curled on his hair to prevent you from falling to the side, given that your legs were about close to giving in.

His nose and chin did their part as well, touching nerves that would be otherwise unattended in any other position. The rubbing and moiture of his abused face were sending waves of intense pleasure through out your body, in fact, at some point you sort of forgot he was there, eyes tight shut, just using him to get yourself off.

Hence, why when you finally reached your climax, you came without restraint all over him. His tongue didn't start working inspite of your body falling limp forward, he was set on cleaning the mess he had created.

You whined in complaint at the slight overstimulation, and he took it as a sign to push you off, causing you to roll over as you should initially have. Instead of moving away from you, his face was buried between your legs the instead he was on his stomach, hardworking tongue lazily tasting around your entrance.

"You finally shut up." your back arched as you breathed out, bracing yourself of the next round you quickly understood was coming.

"I have an enough good reason to."

[capquinn]

can we get a blurb about quinn telling his parents he’s gonna be a dad, pretty pretty please???? i feel like he’d be nervous to tell them but also bursting at the seams wanting them to know. it’s probably hard for him being so far away for most of the year, that he wants them to be involved as much as they can, but he’d also want to respect his partner’s wishes if she wanted to wait to tell people until she was further along in case something happened

The decision about when to tell Quinn’s family about the baby over Thanksgiving weekend had been made weeks ago, but actually doing it was proving to be a whole different story.

For Quinn, the excitement of telling them had been almost overwhelming at first, a buzz of energy thrumming beneath his skin every time he thought about the moment. He could picture their reactions so clearly: Ellen’s face lighting up with joy and then tears, Jim’s steady pride breaking into a wide grin. He’d played it over in his mind again and again, letting the thought carry him through the quiet moments of doubt.

But now, as the reality of actually saying the words settled in, the nerves crept in too. It wasn’t that he doubted their reaction — they would be thrilled, he knew that. They adored him, a love larger than life itself, their pride woven into every word they spoke about him. A love so steadfast it felt unshakable. And over the years, that same love had effortlessly extended to you, not just welcoming you into their family but embracing you as if you’d always been a part of it.

However, the weight of the moment, of what it symbolised, suddenly felt heavier. This wasn’t just a fleeting piece of good news to share. It was life-changing, not just for him and you, but for them as well. They were about to become grandparents, stepping into a new chapter of their lives, and he couldn’t shake the pressure of wanting the moment to be perfect.

The confidence he’d carried on the flight home for the weekend was slipping, giving way to a swirl of emotions he couldn’t quite name. He’d been eager, almost impatient, to share the news, to feel the weight of it lifted and replaced with their joy, their pride, their unwavering support. He wanted them to share in the excitement, to feel connected to this life-changing moment despite the physical miles that often separate them. He needed them to know that their place in this new chapter, as grandparents, was as important to him as the one he was stepping into.

But now, standing on the brink of saying it aloud, a sudden wave of nerves hit him, sharp and unexpected. The enormity of it all — the love, the hope, the vulnerability wrapped in the words — made his throat tighten.

It wasn’t just an announcement. It was a shift, one that would ripple out and reshape everything. Parenthood, after all, was still something the two of you were learning to grasp.

The first evening back home unfolded in the warm glow of Ellen’s kitchen, the scent of roast chicken and fresh-baked bread filling the air. The house alive with warmth — the crackle of the fireplace, the low hum of laughter, and the familiar cadence of Jim’s voice as he spun a tale about the neighbour’s runaway tractor. He gestured animatedly, earning chuckles and interjections from Ellen, who corrected him at every exaggerated turn. It’s a familiar, comforting scene — the kind of moment Quinn usually soaks in without a second thought.

But tonight, his mind is a thousand miles away.

You can feel the tension humming beneath his relaxed posture, the subtle way his fingers tighten around yours every few minutes, like he’s trying to ground himself. His gaze keeps darting to his parents — catching the glint of Ellen’s wedding band as she leans forward in her chair, the crinkle of Jim’s eyes as he laughs at his own joke.

He wants to tell them. You can see it in the way his lips press together, his chest rising and falling with a slow, deliberate breath as though he’s rehearsing the words in his head.

We’re having a baby.

It’s right there, sitting on the tip of his tongue, waiting for the perfect moment. 

Quinn shifts in his seat, his free hand sliding up to rub the back of his neck as he leans forward slightly. You can feel the faint tremor in his grip as he laces his fingers tighter with yours, like he’s steadying himself for something big.

Jim’s voice carries on in the background, the rich cadence of his story weaving effortlessly with Ellen’s laughter, but Quinn’s focus isn’t there anymore. His gaze is fixed on the table, the firelight catching in his eyes as he takes a deep, deliberate breath.

You recognise the signs immediately. The way his shoulders draw back just slightly, the faint movement of his lips like he’s practicing the words in his head. It’s coming — you can feel it in the subtle shift of his energy, the way his knee bounces once under the table before he stills it with a hand.

He glances at you, and in the flicker of his gaze, you see everything — the love, the nerves, the overwhelming weight of what he wants to say. 

Your expression softens, and you give his hand a gentle squeeze, a quiet I’m here. You’ve got this.

Quinn swallows, his throat working against the knot of emotion rising there. 

“So, uh,” he starts, his voice low and hesitant, barely cutting through the warmth of the room.

Ellen turns toward him, her smile easy and expectant, and Jim sets his drink down, his brows lifting in quiet curiosity.

It’s right there. The words are sitting at the edge of his lips, just waiting to fall out. We’re having a baby.

But they don’t.

Quinn falters, his mouth opening slightly before he closes it again, his jaw tightening as he drops his gaze to his lap. His hand squeezes yours, and the quiet pressure feels like an apology.

Ellen’s eyes flit between the two of you, a flicker of concern crossing her face. 

“What is it, sweetheart?” she asks gently, her voice laced with the kind of maternal intuition that always catches him off guard.

He looks up at her, his lips curving into a faint, practiced smile that doesn’t quite reach his eyes. 

“Nothing,” he says softly, shaking his head. “Just... it’s good to be home. That’s all.”

You watch as Ellen’s concern melts into warmth, her smile returning as she reaches over to squeeze his arm affectionately. 

“Well, we’re glad you’re here, too,” she says simply, her love for him evident in every word.

Quinn nods, his gaze falling back to his lap, and you can see the frustration flickering just beneath the surface. He’s upset with himself — not because he doesn’t want to tell them, but because he does. Desperately. He just… can’t.

You lean into him slightly, your shoulder brushing his, and when he looks at you, you offer the smallest smile. He exhales slowly, his grip on your hand relaxing just a bit, and when Jim launches into another story, the tension eases from Quinn’s shoulders — if only for a moment.

The second opportunity comes the next morning, when the day feels impossibly slow and golden, like it’s giving Quinn every chance in the world to speak up. The two of you lie in bed longer than usual, the soft morning light filtering through the curtains as you talk quietly, voices still hushed with sleep.

“We can’t leave without telling them,” Quinn says suddenly, his voice quiet but resolute, like the realisation is finally settling in. His gaze is fixed somewhere on the ceiling, his brow furrowed in thought, the weight of his words pulling his shoulders just a little tighter. “I just… I want to do it right, you know?”

“I get it,” you reply, turning your head to look at him. His profile is soft in the morning light, his jaw flexing slightly as he wrestles with the thought. “You want it to feel special.”

“Yeah,” he murmurs, his lips twitching into a faint, almost sheepish smile. “Exactly. And every time I think about actually saying it, I freeze. Like, what if I screw it up and it’s not as perfect as I want it to be?”

You can’t help the way your heart squeezes a little at the vulnerability in his voice, the honesty of it catching you off guard in the best way. Sliding a little closer, you prop yourself up on one elbow, your hand brushing lightly against his arm. The movement pulls his attention, and for a moment, his eyes flicker to yours before settling back on the ceiling.

“Quinn,” you say softly, your voice laced with affection, “they’re going to love it. It doesn’t have to be perfect. It just has to be you.”

He doesn’t respond right away, the words settling over him like a quiet balm. His jaw flexes again as he chews on your reassurance, his hand absently dropping to your abdomen. It’s such a natural gesture, like he doesn’t even realise he’s done it, his palm curving gently over the barely-there swell. 

The corners of his lips twitch, like he’s debating whether to believe you. Then he lets out a soft laugh, low and self-deprecating, his free hand coming up to rake through his already-messy hair.

“You make it sound so easy.”

“Because it is easy,” you insist, squeezing his arm lightly, your gaze steady on him. “It’s you, Quinn. They’re going to be over the moon no matter how or when you tell them.”

His eyes flick to yours then, something unspoken passing between you — a quiet thank you, maybe, or just an acknowledgment that he’s holding onto your words a little tighter than he lets on. His thumb brushes a slow, thoughtful circle against your skin, and you can feel the tension in his shoulders ease, if only just a little.

“Don’t worry, you’ll tell them today,” you murmur. There’s a quiet encouragement in your voice, a steady belief that seems to seep right into him. Your fingers trace lazy circles over the back of his hand where it rests on your belly.

Quinn nods, his lips twitching into a small, tentative smile. It’s not the full-blown confidence he probably wishes he had, but it’s something — a flicker of determination breaking through the haze of nerves.

“Yeah,” he says softly, the single word carrying more resolve than hesitation. “I will.”

He sounds ready. You believe him. So does he.

And so the morning unfolds beautifully. Ellen, with her usual warmth and efficiency, packs coffee and snacks into a little canvas bag, insisting with a bright smile that everyone take advantage of the clear weather to walk the trails. There’s a lightness to her tone, a sense of simple joy that seems to catch on everyone as they prepare to head out.

Out in the forest, the world feels peaceful, quiet but alive. The rustle of leaves underfoot mingles with the occasional chirp of a bird or the soft swish of wind through the trees. The trail is dappled with sunlight, patches of golden light breaking through the canopy above. Quinn walks beside you, his shoulder bumping yours every now and then as the two of you amble along.

He’s quiet at first, his hands shoved into the pockets of his jacket, but there’s a softness to him that doesn’t feel like nervousness — it feels like he’s soaking it all in. The crisp air, the sound of his parents chatting a few paces ahead, the steady rhythm of your steps beside him.

“You good?” you ask softly, nudging him with your elbow. Your breath fogs slightly in the cool air, and he glances over at you, his lips quirking into a small smile.

“Yeah,” he says, his voice low but steady. And for a while, it feels like he means it.

At the overlook at the end of the trail that feels perfect, too. The sunlight glints off the trees, the breeze is cool and gentle, and his parents are close, their laughter light as Ellen unpacks the thermos of coffee. You can feel the moment hanging there, just waiting for Quinn to take it.

He squeezes your hand gently, his thumb brushing slow circles over your knuckles. You glance up at him, catching the way his jaw tightens just slightly, his lips pressing together like he’s rehearsing the words in his head.

“Now’s a good time,” you say softly, tilting your head toward him. Your voice is quiet, meant just for him, but there’s an encouragement in it that you hope will nudge him past whatever’s holding him back.

Quinn nods, his shoulders straightening a little as he draws in a breath. 

His gaze flicks over to his parents, who are standing a few feet away, cups of steaming coffee in their hands as they admire the view. They’re relaxed, happy. Completely unsuspecting.

For a moment, it feels like he’s going to do it. He takes a step forward, clearing his throat softly, and both Ellen and Jim glance over at him. 

“What is it, Quinn?” Ellen asks, her voice warm, a smile playing on her lips.

You watch as Quinn’s hand flexes at his side, his fingers twitching like he’s trying to grab hold of the words before they slip away. 

“I—” he starts, but then his gaze falters, dropping to the ground for a fraction of a second. He hesitates, just long enough for the nerves to creep in.

Jim’s brow lifts slightly, his smile curious. “Everything okay?”

Quinn freezes, his jaw working as if he’s wrestling with the weight of the moment. You see the exact second he decides against it — the subtle shift in his stance, the way his eyes dart back to the view like he’s searching for an escape.

“Yeah,” he says finally, his voice low but steady. “Yeah, everything’s good.”

There’s a beat of quiet, and then Ellen laughs lightly, her attention shifting back to her cup. 

“Good,” she says, clearly not noticing the undercurrent of tension. “Come have some coffee before it gets cold.”

Jim watches Quinn for a second longer, his gaze thoughtful, but he doesn’t press. He just claps a hand on Quinn’s shoulder as he passes, squeezing lightly. 

Quinn exhales slowly, his shoulders sagging just slightly as he turns back to you. His lips twitch into a faint, sheepish smile, and he shrugs like he’s trying to laugh it off. But you know him too well to buy it.

You don’t say anything, just lean into his side a little, the warmth of him grounding in a way words wouldn’t be.

“Just… not yet,” he murmurs, his voice low, almost like he’s saying it to himself more than to you.

You nod, giving his hand another squeeze, a quiet reassurance passing between you. 

“It’s okay,” you murmur, your voice just as soft. “You’ll know when the time’s right.”

He breathes out slowly, his gaze flickering back to the view for a moment before settling on his parents again. And even though the moment passes, and the group begins to move again, their laughter breaking through the quiet hum of the forest, you can feel it. The way his hand tightens slightly around yours. The way his shoulders stay just a little too tense as you walk.

He’s still building up to it, you know that. But he’s getting closer.

Back at the house, the moment arises again, this time while everyone is lounging in the living room after lunch. Quinn sits beside you on the couch, one hand cradling his coffee mug, the other resting on your thigh. His parents are across from you, their chairs pulled close to the fire, and the warmth of the room feels almost tangible, a gentle weight of familiarity and love.

He’s relaxed now, leaning back into the cushions, his gaze sweeping over the room like he’s soaking it all in. His hand tightens slightly on your leg, and you glance at him, catching the way his eyes flicker with something you recognise — nerves, anticipation, resolve.

Ellen catches his eye and smiles, tilting her head slightly. “What’s on your mind, Quinn? You’ve been out of sorts today.”

Your heart skips, and you sit up just slightly, willing him forward with the quiet encouragement in your expression. 

This is it. He’s going to say it. You can feel it.

He clears his throat, straightening a little. “Just... uh,” he starts, his voice steady but hesitant. He glances at you, then back at his mom, and his lips twitch into a small, uncertain smile. “Just thinking how I’m gonna miss this when we leave,” he finishes, his tone light but not entirely convincing.

Your shoulders relax, a mix of understanding and disappointment flooding you as you press your knee gently against his. Quinn glances at you, his jaw tightening as he picks up on your unspoken it’s okay. Next time.

Ellen smiles warmly, tilting her head in that soft, motherly way. “It’s not long until Christmas,” she reminds him, though her voice carries a faint wistfulness, like she’s reminding herself too.

Quinn nods. “Yeah,” he says softly. “Not long.”

The following morning unfolds in the quiet, unhurried way that comes after a weekend of family time, everyone savouring these last hours together. The kitchen is warm and familiar, filled with the smell of coffee and the soft sounds of Ellen moving around, flipping pancakes on the griddle. Jim leans against the counter by the sink, drying dishes, while you’re perched on a stool at the island, hands wrapped around a steaming mug of tea. Quinn stands a little apart, leaned back against the counter with a piece of toast in hand, his damp hair sticking up in every direction, evidence of a quick shower.

The conversation drifts easily — something about Jim’s plans for the yard that afternoon, Ellen’s pancake technique, a joke about Luke’s questionable cooking skills. But Quinn is quiet, and not in the usual, thoughtful way. His eyes flick between his parents, to you, and back again, a pattern he’s been repeating all weekend. You know he’s been carrying the weight of the news, the excitement and nerves tangling together, keeping him from saying it despite countless opportunities.

And then, just like that, it happens.

“We have something to tell you,” he says, his voice steady but quiet enough that it cuts through the easy flow of conversation. 

The kitchen stills, all eyes turning toward him. Ellen pauses mid-flip, the spatula poised over the griddle, while Jim straightens from his spot near the sink, his brow furrowing slightly.

“What is it?” Ellen asks, her voice soft but expectant, her gaze darting between you both.

Quinn shifts slightly, his toast forgotten on the counter behind him. His hand brushes over the back of his neck, and for a moment, you wonder if he’s going to back out again, if the nerves will win one last time. 

But then he glances at you, his expression searching, and you nod gently, giving him the encouragement he’s been looking for.

“We’re having a baby,” he says, the words tumbling out in a rush but steady, sure. His voice catches just slightly at the end, but his eyes stay locked on his parents, watching as the meaning sinks in.

For a moment, the room is silent. Ellen stares at him, her eyes wide and unblinking, her hand coming up to her mouth. Jim’s towel stills mid-fold in his hands, his gaze flicking to you as if for confirmation. And then Ellen gasps — a sound so full of joy and disbelief it feels like it fills the entire room.

“Oh my God,” Ellen whispers, her voice trembling as her hand covers her mouth. Her eyes dart between Quinn and you, wide and shimmering with emotion. “A baby? You’re having a baby?” She looks at you then, as if she needs your confirmation to believe it’s true.

Quinn nods, and the soft, tentative smile that had been tugging at his lips finally breaks free. It spreads wide, unstoppable, lighting up his entire face. 

“Yeah,” he says, his voice low and steady but filled with something raw and achingly real. “We’re having a baby.”

His words hang in the air, and for a moment, the world feels suspended, as if the house itself is holding its breath. Then Ellen moves, her emotions bursting forth as she crosses the kitchen in a blur, her arms outstretched. She pulls Quinn into a fierce hug, her laugh bubbling up through a flood of tears.

“Oh, Quinn,” she says, her voice breaking with joy. “A baby. My baby’s having a baby.” Her hands cradle his face for a moment before she hugs him again, tighter this time, as if she can pour every ounce of love she feels into him.

He laughs softly, wrapping his arms around her as his chin rests against the top of her head. “Thanks, Mom,” he murmurs, his voice thick with emotion.

When Ellen pulls back, her focus shifts immediately to you. 

“Oh, sweetheart,” she says, rounding the island with tears streaming down her face. “A baby. Oh, I’m so happy for you.” She pulls you into a tight hug, her warmth and joy washing over you in waves. “You’re going to be incredible parents. Both of you.”

Jim moves forward more slowly, his hand landing firmly on Quinn’s shoulder as a wide smile spreads across his face. 

“This is incredible news, son,” he says, his voice steady but with an unmistakable quiver of emotion. “Congratulations. To both of you.”

Quinn exhales then, properly exhales, like the weight of all his nerves and hesitations has finally lifted. 

For the rest of the morning, the kitchen hums with joy. Ellen flits between the stove and you, her emotions spilling over every time she catches Quinn’s eye. She can’t seem to stop smiling, crying, or imagining the tiny new addition to the family. 

“How have you been feeling?” she asks, her eyes searching yours with a mother’s concern. “If you need anything, you’ll let me know, right?”

Her hand briefly brushes over your arm, the gesture warm and reassuring, and you nod, assuring her that you’ve been well, that Quinn has been attentive, that everything is as it should be. It’s impossible not to smile at the way her joy bubbles over, filling every corner of the kitchen like sunlight.

Quinn, for his part, has shed every trace of hesitation. He talks easily now, the nerves replaced by an earnest kind of excitement. He shares the small details — the due date, how you found out, how ready the two of you feel — and every word seems to deepen the pride in Jim’s expression. He stands quietly nearby, his presence grounding and constant, his smile unwavering.

When it’s finally time to leave, the hugs linger. Ellen pulls Quinn close, whispering something through her tears before letting him go to hold you just as tightly. Jim’s hand finds Quinn’s shoulder again, squeezing it once in a way that says everything without words. There’s an unspoken promise in their goodbyes, a warmth that stays even as the front door closes behind you.

Quinn doesn’t say much as he helps you into the car, his hand brushing over your back as he opens the door. But as he settles into the driver’s seat, he glances back at the house one last time, his expression soft, a little dazed. When he turns to you, his smile is quiet, content, the kind that makes your heart ache in the best way. 

As you drive away, the crisp Michigan air shifting through the windows, his hand finds yours. His thumb brushes over your knuckles in that familiar, absent minded way, and you realise that for the first time all weekend, there’s nothing holding him back. The weight is gone, replaced by something steadier — joy, contentment, and the simple knowledge that everything is exactly as it should be.

[akutasoda]

helloo aventurine, blade, jing yuan and sunday with a teen reader like ai hoshino?

(reader is a talented and captivating idol/singer, but outside of their idol persona they are sort of empty, trying to understand love and often doing self-destructive things while doing so)

an idols mirage

synopsis - how are they with someone like ai

includes - blade, jing yuan, aventurine, sunday

warnings - gn!reader, fluff, slight angst, wc - 804

blade ★↷

↪he was never one to be into, or even care about idols and celebrities. he saw no appeal in them and rather honestly thought it was a useless thing to care about and so he'd rather not even be aware of such things

↪blade rarely even looked on any kind of social media, only when kafka (or even silver wolf) would send him something and even then he barely paid attention to what was sent to him, so it was always a surprise to anyone that he knew you, one of biggest up and coming idols

↪and blade would definitely have to admit that you were talented. he never saw himself admitting to something like that but there was definitely no doubt that you had an amazing voice that he could easily listen to for hours on end without getting tired of it

↪however, knowing you personally, he quickly noted how quickly that “idol” persona of yours would drop. how you quickly became much more lifeless - almost as if that persona of yours was your whole life and everything else was meaningless in your world

↪if you wanted to learn how to love or even feel emotions, blade certainly was the best person to go to. he wasn't exactly that in touch with his own emotions. however, he could sympathise with your more self-destructive tendencies

↪so he found himself looking out for those small signs and stopping them, they wouldnt do you any good and he knew that better than anyone. but even that small amount of help from him, was enough for you.

jing yuan ★↷

↪again, he barely kept up with that kind of stuff. it never really interested him or even crossed his mind and something to start looking at. so he wasn't exactly all that up to date with anything similar

↪but he would start looking at that kind of world when he first met you, and it was him mainly looking at your stuff and anything that involved you - jing yuan wasn't exactly interested in anyone else and could only be bothered when it came to you

↪but it wouldn't take long before jing yuan would notice how differently you acted in public as opposed to just with him. how emotionally void you were when there wasn't a risk of being seen by anyone else, how self-destructive you could be in your search for proper emotions

↪so he quickly took it upon himself to help you. showing you a life outside of being an idol and more of how to be an actual person, and he definitely wouldn't give up in his endeavor.

aventurine ★↷

↪aventurine hardly was one to keep an eye on the idol/singer world. sure occasionally he may come across something about something that happened but he would never go out of his way to even take a look at that kind of stuff

↪but he would admit that quite a few singers had a lot of talent, and you were one of them. so when he met you, he did know who you were and he definitely would class you in that group

↪but when you did start getting closer to him, he could easily start to recognise the signs of your facade slipping, the one that you wore for public appearance. and he couldn't blame you but it definitely wasn't healthy, nor did he like that look on you

↪aventurine was definitely not the kind to be able to help others that much, he could barely help himself, but he wanted to try. and whether it was down to him doting on you and preventing your self-destructive behaviours or simply helping you be more expressive, he would always try - especially as it may help him more than he would realise

sunday ★↷

↪he first met you through robin, she always knew the best people in that kind of industry and he trusted her judgement - especially when she was so eager to introduce the two of you

↪obviously, he wasn't left disappointed, you were indeed a very talented and amazing singer who definitely had the flair for singing and producing songs that he could listen to for hours - although in his eyes robin would always still be better

↪however it wouldn't take too long for sunday to recognise those signs of that idol persona falling, how in person you were much more empty and rather emotionless. he could understand why however, fame and fortune definitely could always make someone put on a mask

↪although your self-destructive nature was definitely much more concerning. he would end up doting on you and your signs, making sure that that behaviour of yours was reduced as much as possible, and for however long it took.

taglist - @little-miss-chaoss, @frankiesteinn

[rpgchoices]

About Davrin and his past (from the banter with Bellara) and more (SPOILERS)

Spoilers for the whole game!!

Davrin being the kind of person who believes he has an expiration death and should not get attached, only flirting and having flings, quick to start the flirting romance (one flirting choice and he already has the heart in the description)

"Thrill of the chase"

who calls himself a blade and believes he is ready to die at any moment and desperate for purpose

The way Davrin comes off is isolated, with purpose, slightly suicidal and harsh. In the banter with Bellara she asks a lot of questions about his Dalish clan (which he left because he felt constrained) and if he regrets leaving it:

and

(I promise I will make a compilation video of all the dalish banter)

So the core of Davrin's character is purpose and he chose the hunter + grey warden because of it. This banter feels quite lonely, if I have to be honest, and in another banter scene he also says (if I remember correctly) that he does not visit his dalish clan (a part from his uncle). It almost feels like a sunk-cost-fallacy. From his first quest we know that he left his clan, ended up broke and could not go back so he started hunting monsters but he needed purpose.

The second core of Davrin's storyline is that sometimes when he talks about Assan he is talking about himself. Assan is, in his mind, a sharped blade (arrow) who needs to quickly learn how to fight to survive (and in some cutscenes Davrin brings as justification the fact that this is how he learnt as well, on his own and out of necessity). So the whole dialogue about "can the nature of something change" is essentially about him as well.

It starts to change with Assan of course, we see him actually get attached to ONE thing for the first time ever. How do we know? First of all, he did not seem particularly attached to the two trainers, but second, he also says so in his romance dialogue:

And when Davrin is about to die (archdemon) the one thing he thinks about is Assan ("Give Assan a hug for me"). So yes, "The thril of the chase" was just that. He was flirting, he wanted to keep things casual and then "his nature" (or more like: the nature related to the purpose he had given himself) started to change.

His character arc goes from a sharpened blade with no attachment and eager to die for a bigger purpose, to someone who does not want to die anymore, who literally wants domestic bliss.

Which is even more tragic because he is one of the two characters who can die (and will die depending on your choices), which lead you to this scene where he says:

Also I am pretty sure all the other romances say "I love you" during the game (I think Emmrich during his personal quest), or during the romance scene pre-final fight. Let me know if I am wrong! Davrin's "I love you" scene instead is the literal last scene before the final battle (the one after you rescue Neve/Bellara).

Davrin's last cutscene pre-fight instead is pretty explicit (i think the most explicit one after Taash) and is mainly a reassurance about surviving the battle and the future.

So YES I love Davrin. Great romance, A+, wish it had more scenes in the middle, wish we knew more about his Dalish clan, but at least there is enough space between the lines and work on fanfics!!

[charliehoennam]

sweet stranger

A/N: request made here by @annekelovesreading

Summary: the war veteran Alfie seeks comfort in a stranger in hopes of returning to his old self

Pairing: Alfie Solomons x F!Reader

Warnings: 18+, smut, reader is a sex worker.

SHARING IS CARING, SO PLEASE REBLOG

part two

"Thanks for the ride, James. I'll see you tomorrow morning."

You climb out of the Bentley and adjust your coat, smoothing out the wrinkles of your dress before strutting towards the hotel, your heels clacking against the pavement and then marble floors of the lobby.

You sense the judgemental eyes already on you, but you've learned how to ignore them. If their judgement paid your rent and bills, then you'd finally be able to retire. But until then, you did what needed to be done.

The service you provide is simple and clear. You meet the client, humor them a bit and fuck them before leaving at first light.

You are lucky enough to work for a powerful and strict madame that actually recognizes the importance of her employees' well-being and ran a high-end business.

Her rules were clear. No marking, no hitting and contraceptive must be used.

Just because her empire dominates the professional area of sexual pleasure does not mean she runs a funhouse. Many would mistake Madame's care for benevolence when it is really just a matter of logistics.

Black eyes don't allow her employees to escort her wealthy clients to prestigious social events. And the only reason her business dominates is because she assures clean employees to her clients. An employee with the clap gets the boot and replacing them is expensive.

After giving your name at the front desk, you take the keys you're headed with a smile and head to room 403.

The name is not unfamiliar. You've heard plenty of Alfie Solomons and part of you is afraid of what he'll be like, judging by what you've heard.

The ring of the lift snaps you our of your thoughts. You flash a smile at the liftman and thank him before stepping into the hallway.

Alfie Solomons is not your first client - nor will he be your last - but knowing he is the first gangster you're about to meet and sleep with has butterflies fluttering in your stomach.

You mentally repeat Madame's rules to yourself to try and ease your nerves. But then again, do rules hold any standing to criminals?

Taking a couple of deep breaths, you manage to relax as best as you possibly can in the situation and simply remind yourself that he is no different than any other client.

You lift your hand to knock on the door. There's movement behind it and the metal of the lock on the side rattles as it slides to open.

Your lips pull into a welcoming smile at the broad, tall man that opens the door. Taking in his features, you quickly notice his wet hair.

The smell of soap emanates from his large frame along with a faint scent of rum and an irresistible natural musk that almost lured you to touch him.

It's obvious that he took the time to wash himself and, to be honest, you're quite thankful for that.

"You must be Mr. Solomons."

"Punctual little thing, ain't you? Come on in, love. Don't mind me."

His tone is rather calm even with his heavy Cockney drawl. His fingers, however, seem to confess his nerves with the way they flick back and forth.

"Punctuality is a necessary characteristic in my line of work, Mr. Solomons."

"Right, right" he nods as you walk past him. He still can't seem to look you in the eye, but you've yet to discover why.

Most of the nervous clients that you've had were first-timers, young men eager to lose their virginity especially before being sent to war.

Alfie is very attractive and pleasing to the eye with his large strong build, but he is no young boy. You find it hard to believe that this would be his first time being as wealthy, cunning and wealthy as you heard he is.

"May I take your coat, love?"

"Yes, please."

You turn to back to him to allow his assistance, taking in the sight of the hotel room. You've been in this hotel before, but despite that, the lavish decoration of the suite never fails to impress.

Alfie can't help but feel intimidated by the simple scent of your perfume as he stands behind you, taking your coat to hang it for you. He doesn't want you to pick up on the fact that he feels so out of his element.

Before the war, Alfie had his fair share of women. He used to be so different. So young and naive and confident - which is the only characteristic he can successfully feign more than well in the wicked world he treads in.

But now, he's in foreign territory. So much has changed for him.

Getting his affairs back in strict order took so much work, sweat and blood from him that he hadn't prioritized his romantic desires.

If age hadn't been enough, the night tremors made it impossible to sleep beside anyone. Red blotches were beginning to spread throughout his body due to the psoriasis. His sciatica only worsened with age and the harsh conditioning the war had forced onto it. And now the fucking cancer, which only added to his list of secret insecurities.

The confident young man he used to be was gone. Alfie was still human, however. And like many other humans, he yearned for companionship. The problem is that a man like Alfie can't confide in just anyone. He can't expose it without the risk of his enemies seeing it as an opportunity to use it against him.

Good thing about Madame's business is that her turf is neutral and independent ground. For now, at least.

Alfie knows he has to overcome this hurdle if he plans to get married one day and start a family and he just thought this would be the best way.

He's got a beautiful woman in his hotel room; he knows what you came here to do. He's just not sure what to do at this point other than to confess it to you. He doesn't want to say it, but deep down inside, he feels a bit humilited.

It shows in the way he avoids your eyes, the way his head hangs low.

"There's no shame in that, Mr. Solomons. I'm happy to help however I can. We don't have to rush into anything just yet... Do you drink?"

"Not often. Clouds the mind."

"Precisely. What do you drink?" You smile warmly at him.

"Wine is my favorite."

"Let's get you a glass then, Mr. Solomons."

Just as you expect, the wine is successful in loosening him up a bit.

You're careful enough to avoid asking any questions that concerns his business, so you focus on asking him to share things he enjoys like music and books.

After a couple hours and a couple glasses, he's warming up to you as you listen attentively to his childhood stories. Despite the wine, he is cautious enough to leave out certain details that are too personal for you to know that could bring him or his family harm if they ended up in the wrong hands.

You can't take it personal, and can only imagine that trust does not come easy in his line of work which only confirms that pressing him on such information wouldn't be very smart.

No matter how easy the conversation is flowing or how comfortable he may seem to be, you can't forget who he is beyond these four walls.

As he finishes his glass of wine, he sets it down on the table in front of you while raising a hand to his shoulder to rub at the aching knot in his muscle.

"Would you like me to take care of that for you, Mr. Solomons?"

"With what, love? Oh, this?" He asks glancing at his shoulder. "Oh, no. You don't have to do that."

It almost like he's forgotten the reason you're both there.

"Really, I don't mind at all. It's the least I can do for you, sir."

With a sweet smile, you stand as you finish off your glass and set it beside his on the table before walking over to his chair to offer him your hand.

"I promise I won't do anything you don't want me to."

His blue eyes narrow their gaze at you for a moment as if he's trying to read you. You can see him physically tense before accepting your hand.

The talkative Alfie is suddenly replaced by a quiet and insecure version as he watches you, from where he's sat in the bed, take your heels off - your almost bare feet still covered in your black stockings - before climbing onto the bed.

You stand on your knees , which are spread to accommodate him between them, and sit back on your feet after taking the small bottle of rose scented intimate oil from your purse.

"It's like riding a bike. Your body knows that to do, but it needs time, patience and practice, so you have to go slow."

Your breathe on his neck has chills racing up his arms as you reach to his front to unbutton his vest and slide it off his wide shoulders. You do the same with his shirt, but pause before sliding it off as his hand instinctively hold your wrist.

"May I? I'd love to see you, but if you don't want to, I can just slide it down a bit."

He ponders for a moment but replies with a silent nod as he releases your wrist.

You slide it off and much to your impression, he seems even wider and stronger than you'd imagined.

A couple scars and red blotches already here and there on his skin, but they don't stop you from marveling at the rippling muscles.

"My goodness... Mr. Solomons, with all the utmost respect, but you are quite the work of art."

He can't help but smile at your compliment, although he thinks that you're just saying what you think he wants to hear, so it's hard for him to believe.

You let your palms gently wander over his large back and arms, with a gentle squeeze to his biceps.

"Carved from stone, are you?" You joke, bringing a chuckle out of him.

"No, love. Just flesh."

"Fortunately."

Using the pipette, you pinch a couple drops of the oil onto his shoulders before closing the vial to set it aside and letting your fingers get to work.

Alfie groans softly and his eyes instantly close as you start massaging to undo the knot that's been bothering him for weeks now.

"How is that, sir? More pressure?"

"No, love. That's just fine...just perfect," he sighs relieved. "Fucking 'ell, love. That feels fucking great. You've no idea how long that's been bothering me."

"I can imagine. You've got knots like this all round. It can't be easy to live with them.

Slowly but surely, Alfie starts to relax. It's impossible not to. It's been a while since he's been touched by anyone, much less massaged by them.

The tension is his body begins to ease as your fingers work away not only the knots caused by the stress of his days, but the anxiety of being intimate again. It doesn't seem so foreign suddenly.

Building up the courage to place a gentle kiss onto the back of his shoulder, you lower your head and press your lips to his skin.

"Is this alright?" You whisper.

"More than alright."

"I can go lower if you'd like me to."

He nods, so you glides your fingers down the middle of his back, pressing against ether side of his spine.

"Fuck, love... That is heavenly."

You smile at the praises and take it a sign to continue the gentle teasing, moving your kisses up to the crook of his neck.

You take your time to ease him into his arousal. The lower you go down his back, the more convinced he becomes.

"Would you like me to touch you?"

You ask nuzzling your nose against his ear and he nods.

You reach a hand to his front and rub your palm against his clothed crotch. Although you can't see his cock, you can tell the man's been blessed with girth as it twitches against your touch.

Alfie gives in to the instant pleasure and moans, letting all his worries melt away. He can't remember the last time he's been able to feel so at ease.

As you whisper encouraging praises into his ear from behind, Alfie allows you to unbutton his trousers and slither your hand under the fabric to stroke his cock with a firm grip.

The room seems to spin around him. His head feels heavy from the pleasure as it leans back against your shoulder.

"That's it, sir. Just let me take care of you" you smirk kissing a sensitive spot on his neck that he didn't even know could make him tremble.

He isn't sure how much longer he can last. It's been a while after all.

"L-love, you feel so good."

You chuckle, letting his thick cock spring free from its confines.

"You're fucking beautiful, sir."

"Oh, you think so, yeah?"

You nod as your hand strokes his dick, coating it with his own pre-cum and the essential oil you'd brought.

"Lemme get more comfortable, love. Wanna see more of ya," alfie says holding your wrist to stop your movement for a moment.

He stands to kick off his trousers, standing in all his naked glory before sitting further up the bed with his back against the upholstered headboard.

"C'mere, love. Lemme see you hm?"

His invitation is made with calloused hands guiding you to straddle his lap. You make quick work of unbuttoning the dress and sliding the straps off your shoulders to reveal your chest with a sultry smile.

"May I?"

You can't help but smile at how he's a gentleman in such a moment. Most clients wouldn't even bother to remember asking, but Alfie makes you forget that he is just another client.

His large hands reach to knead your breasts, giving them such attentive appreciation as he licks his pink lips, eager to get them on you.

"It's alright, love" you whisper, seeming to read his mind.

The way his beard scratches your sensitive skin has your back arching into his warmth. His gentle and considerate admiration lures you into a trance; into a heated dream where you are able to finally feel like a woman loved.

You welcome him with fingers lacing into his messy brown locks still damp from his bath earlier. Your hips move mindless as you grind your clothed sex against his exposed cock, reminding him how good he feels and how you want him to feel the same.

Shifting onto your knees between his legs on the bed, you pepper tender kisses down his chest and stomach as your breasts dangle down and rub against his cock.

The anticipation has Alfie balling his fists into the white sheets.

"You are the most beautiful woman in the world, love. Fucking 'ell," he mumbles as your hands run up and down his thigh, giving gentle squeezes to tease him on.

"It's gonna be a long night."

[grassyhorizon45]

Could you do a fic where y/n has did, but it doubting themselves and convincing themselves they don't have it? Or just more fics with did. I love reading them but I can't find very many

ok.. so this rotted my brain a little and ended up becoming maybe quite long :D srry in advanced for all the DID terms and such :3 pt 2 will come soon I promise.

Help.

part 1 || part 2 || part 3

Marauders x Y/n but she realises something a little different about herself and the insecurity starts to build.

Warnings: A small bit of yelling, mostly fluff...and a few big words :D

Words: 718

It was subtle at first…

“H-Huh? What do you mean potion class was yesterday?”

“How did I end up here again?”

Then the voices, occasional laughs no one else could hear—

“Siri, I'm h-hearing things again…”

Remus heard from across the room. “Again bunny?”  “That's not good, maybe we should talk to a professor about it?” Sirius suggested.

Y/n refused…… refused to alert the professors of her anomaly, refused to admit it was hindering her ability to function—

Refused to admit it bothered her a lot.

“I told you about the party three times already… What do you mean ‘I never mentioned anything about a party’??!”  James put a hand on Sirius's shoulder at the sight of Y/n tensing up. “Calm down Pads, there's no need to yell. 

Sirius took a deep breath, “I just… d-don't understand, love.” 

…��I don't understand either. 

* * *

“I think I found an answer,” Remus said when they were hanging out in the boys’ room one day. 

“An answer?” asked James.  “To Y/n’s sudden… forgetfulness.”

“And the voices?” Y/n couldn't stop herself from blurting.  Remus smiled to himself proudly, “And the voices, bunny.” 

“You found the cause, Moons?” Sirius walked over to the boy whose nose was deep into his book, ruffling Remus’ light brown hair. 

“It's called Dissociative Identity Disorder…” 

“Disso- Wh-What?” Y/n couldn't catch the word. 

“A character in this book has it… He's very detached sometimes and he tends to forget events he and his friends witnessed; so kind of like you, bunny.” 

“D-Detached? D-Do I-?” James nodded at Y/n’s question. “Sometimes, baby.” 

“He talks to himself occasionally too,” Remus added about the character’s description. “The protagonist thinks it's schizophrenia, but the narrator says it's cause of the voices in his head–” 

“Imma stop you there, Moony,” Sirius butt-in as he saw the slight panic growing in Y/n's eyes.  “For one, how do we know if this ‘identity disorder’ thing isn’t something the author made up, and two, if our bunny actually has it. Additionally if so, what do we do about it?”

Sirius made a valid point, yet all Y/n's mind could cling on to was how accurate Remy’s fictional character resembled the things she was experiencing. 

“Baby, you okay?” James put a steady hand around her waist. 

Y/n blinked a few times, bringing herself back to the present. 

“Y-Yeah, I'm good,” she assured her three worried looking boyfriends. “C-Can you write the d-disorder down for me Remy? I think I'll hit the library.” 

“Why don't we pay the library a visit together? I'm down to crack this case,” said Sirius, eager to get started. 

“Sirius Orion Black wanting to visit the library?” James gasped sarcastically. “Never heard of it,” beamed Remus. 

Y/n giggled, “Okay, okay. You guys can come too.” 

* * *

Digging deeper into this so-called ‘Dissociative Identity Disorder’, there were subdiagnoses like OSDD: Other Specified Dissociative Disorder or just amnesia itself could be a possibility. 

Y/n's boyfriends all had their heads wrapped around learning things like multiple personalities, dissociative amnesia, headspace theory, and even causes of DID. 

“I d-don't even have ‘alters’......"

"Guys, it's not so important, we can just let it slide you know…” Y/n mumbled, hating the silence of endless research. 

“Plus Jamie, you have a match against Hufflepuff tomorrow… Shouldn't you practice?” 

“You're right,” James remembered. “I do have a match…” 

Remus shrugged, “Go ahead Prongs, we don't mind.” 

James said a quick thanks before hurrying off. Y/n turned to look at Sirius. The black haired was sprawled on the library table, snoring softly. 

Was never a bookworm that man, unlike Remus. 

“Rem, I think we should leave it,” Y/n said to him as he asked yet another ‘are you experiencing this’ question. 

“We just wanna help you figure this out bunny…” 

“I know… But it's not really a big deal and it's probably just me being forgetful and a touch of sleep deprivation anyways. Look, even Siri’s fast asleep… At least take a break, love?” 

“Alright.” 

It wasn't that Y/n didn't trust her significant others, nor was it really because she was tired. All she wanted was to shut off all possibilities that she could actually be mentally unstable, to make sure she wasn't being a walking ‘waste of time’.

Yet...

She couldn't shake the bugging thought that this whole thing was somehow a facade......

A trick her mind had orchestrated for attention...

...what?

[pomefioredove]

um um. the nbc boys with a reader thats smart and learns easily but has trouble keeping up with the school system(? for lack of better words). they get distracted and bored easily, forget about homework, doodle on their papers and stare out the window, etc. they get great test scores and do exceptionally well when they are interested in what they’re learning, but otherwise get burned out really quick. i don’t know much about your nbc but it seems like the system is pretty fast paced and doesn’t really leave room for mistakes! 🫶🫶 i love your designs for nbc so far. can already tell the readers gonna have a blast (and a migraine)

my first ever noble bell oc request... rubs my hands together evilly

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ no room for mistakes (noble bell college)

inspired by my AU

type of post: headcanons characters: rollo, original characters; pierrot, bou, phoenix, clodio additional info: romantic or platonic, reader is gender neutral, reader is yuu

Rollo Flamme will arrange a precise time to study with you every day, whether you ask him or not. it's within his best interest that you succeed at Noble Bell (heavens forbid you're shipped off to a lesser, simpler arcane academy like that terrible Night Raven College), and so there will be no room for mistakes. this isn't something you should take for granted, either; Rollo is a very busy man, and to have an hour of his time for him to tutor you is a privilege. at least, that's what everyone else will tell you

to Rollo, this is nothing. he would make his whole weekend for you, if you asked. perhaps his whole life

*ੈ✩‧₊˚

Pierrot Gregoire is probably the last person you should be going to for help. yes, he's exceptionally intelligent in the ways of history and literature, and yes, he could lecture you for hours longer than your actual professor does, but I doubt you would actually get anything but a headache out of it. he's a poet, not a tutor, and he has a tendency to talk himself in circles, go on tangents, anecdote about his personal life... yeah. it would take a special sort of mind to keep up with him, otherwise, you're probably better off trying to make sense of his unorganized class notes... which are just as full of doodles and daydreams as yours

*ੈ✩‧₊˚

Bou de Neige is known for making harsh judgments about his peers... which are often accurate. and so he can tell, by the way you talk and articulate and express, that you're not a blithering idiot. you only lack the discipline that the typical Noble Bell College student has. and if it weren't for Rollo's faith in you, and his own damned pity, Bou would have been happy to let you fail...

...but he doesn't. he sits next to you in classes and pinches your arm when you're dozing off, or not paying attention to something important. he leers over you and corrects the mistakes on your homework before you turn it in. he begins carrying clean paper for you to doodle on, and insists it's nothing (it's so over for him)

*ੈ✩‧₊˚

Phoenix Bussiere is not what I would call a trustworthy tutor. he's not even a trustworthy student. oh, but don't think he wouldn't love to waste a few hours every week "helping you study" while he vandalizes 500 year old wood desks and falls asleep in the library. he's way too eager to volunteer. and how can you say no? his attention is highly valuable; the jealous glares of other students make that obvious. and perhaps you wouldn't have minded working alone, without anyone breathing down your neck... except he doesn't let you. he couldn't care less about the homework, but he'll ask you a thousand questions about yourself

...you can never quite tell if he actually cares, or if he's just passing the time

*ੈ✩‧₊˚

if you think Clodio LeFou would be the worst of the group, you'd be very wrong. is it chaotic? yes. but he'll teach you Latin while hanging upside down (and he's really quite good at it). he's managed to get by at Noble Bell without raising any eyebrows, after all, and his grades certainly reflect that. he'll act out your history lessons and critique your writing assignments like a professional. he'll make a puppet just to teach you math. it's unconventional, especially for Noble Bell, but it's much better than the dry lectures from your professors. you'll take what you can get

[cooliestghouliest]

PUTTY, chapter three

(chapter one), (chapter two), (chapter three)

PAIRING: virgin!Eddie/former cheerleader!Reader

SUMMARY: You and Eddie go to a party.

SERIES TAGS and C/W’s: mutual pining, experienced!Reader, inexperienced!Eddie but he’s eager to learn, mostly sub!Eddie, insecurities and self doubt, narcissistic and/or absent parents, jealousy, mean basketball players, hurt/comfort, they smoke weed, eventual smut (18+ ONLY, MINORS DNI), uniform kink, dirty talk, foot jobs, hand jobs, oral (f!receiving and m!receiving), public sex, sex toys, unprotected PiV. more to be added as this progresses!!!

WORD COUNT: 5.4k+

TAG LIST: @emma77645, @aliciabb17, @gracieluvthemoon, @kellsck, @figmentofquinn, @mediocredreams

—

Parked on the crowded street a block away from Chrissy Cunningham’s massive Loch Nora home, Eddie sat fidgeting with his hands in his lap. The van was idled. He made no attempts to unbuckle himself, so you turned in your seat to assess him.

Down the road, the yard was full of teenagers, the party seemingly having spilled over from the house to the entire property. Eddie was observing the attendants with a narrowed gaze, almost suspiciously.

You were starting to feel bad for dragging him along.

“Eddie, you don’t have to come in. I’ll just go say hi to Chrissy, and then we can go do something else, if you want,” you suggested, voice soft.

He very much wanted that.

But he knew you were hoping to spend some time around your best friend, and with how often you babysat for Olly nowadays, Eddie assumed you hadn’t had much availability for a social life lately.

He didn’t want to be the reason you missed an opportunity to have fun.

He briefly thought of telling you he was just going to head back to the trailer and for you to enjoy your time at the party, but you’d invited him, and you’d seemed so ecstatic when he’d agreed.

And truthfully, the idea of ditching you there gave him the same uneasy feelings that going inside the party gave him.

It seemed to be a lose/lose situation.

Tired of battling with himself, Eddie decided he was going to go with the option that allowed him to spend more time with you. Otherwise, he’d have to sulk back to Forest Hills and spend the night overthinking about what you were up to. And who you were talking to.

Eddie wasn’t used to the feeling of possession that curled in his stomach at the thought of other guys trying to get with you.

For a brief moment, he let his doubts swirl freely in his mind, his badgering inner voice reminding him that he was no rich jock with a full ride to an Ivy League and was instead just a drug dealing super, super senior who did nothing for his professional future except dream of one day making it big with his music.

But from the fervid patience you were awaiting his answer with, Eddie had to shake his head clear of self-deprecation, recalling your earlier conversation where you had said you actually liked spending time with him, and had told him you wanted to attend the party with him – not Andy or Patrick or any of Jason Carver’s other rich boy cronies.

Who was he to deny you your wildest, most incomprehensible wishes?

“No, no, let’s go,” Eddie finally said, turning off the van. He shot you a grin, full of false bravado. “Really, I wanna go.” He didn’t, but he was going to fake it ‘till he make’d it.

You returned the grin without hesitation, eyes filling with relief. For a moment there, you’d half expected Eddie to bail on you. And really, you wouldn't have blamed him, considering being put in this social situation was clearly wreaking havoc in his brain.

Eddie clicked the van locked and pocketed the keys as you tried to sweeten the deal for him, wanting to ease as much worry as you could. You didn’t bring him here to stress him out, you brought him here so you could both have a good time, drinking and laughing without the obligation of watching a six-year-old.

“I think Steve might be here,” you offered, knowing the pair had become quite close.

If Eddie were to be honest, hearing Harrington might also be there did make him feel better.

Dustin had introduced them to one another the year prior. While they didn’t mesh at first, essentially polar opposites, the two bonded when they’d both impromptu taken edibles together.

It happened one movie night at Nancy Wheeler’s.

Eddie brought his own brownie stash and had accidentally left them out on the kitchen counter. Steve, thinking Mrs. Wheeler had baked the goods for the get-together, had eaten two before Eddie caught him. He spent the first part of the night talking Steve down out of a panic attack, and then they spent the second part of the night laughing their asses off, laying in Nancy’s pool fully clothed, floating on almost airless rafts.

They’d been friends ever since.

Something else also made Eddie feel better about heading into the party.

You had grabbed his hand in yours at some point as you made your way up the driveway, your warm fingers interlocking with his own.

For the second time that night, you made him feel invincible.

Like nothing could go wrong.

𖤐 ֪ 𖤐 ֪ 𖤐

You hadn’t been inside the house two minutes before Chrissy’s voice rang out in the midst of the crowd.

“You made it!” the girl practically yelled, weaving her small frame through the sea of bodies that packed the usually spacious foyer. When she finally made her way to you and Eddie, she wrapped her arms around you in a tight hug, drunkenly swaying side to side and giggling. When Chrissy pulled away, she looked to your side, spotting your companion. “And Eddie! Hi, Eddie!”

Eddie couldn’t help but crack a smile at the bubbly blonde’s welcome. She, like you, had been a rarity at Hawkins High School.

Whereas most of the popular students had either avidly avoided the likes of Eddie or chose to interact with him solely to make his life a living hell, you and Chrissy never negatively singled anyone out. Instead, the two of you would do things like volunteer to be partners with the quietest kids in class for a project, or you’d both sit with new students during lunch until they found their own cliques.

Eddie never understood why either of you willingly chose to spend your free time with the likes of Jason and the rest of the Hawkins sports roster. He chalked it up to you both just playing your predestined roles. Once you fit a certain mold or stereotype in Hawkins, it was pretty hard to branch out from it. Eddie of all people could understand that.

“Hey, Chris,” he greeted, happy she didn’t go to hug him as well. The last thing Eddie needed was Carver thinking he was making moves on his girlfriend.

Actually, the quicker he got away from her, the better. He liked Chrissy, he truly did, but wherever she was, her loverboy was soon to follow, and Eddie didn’t feel like being instigated into a fight right now.

His eyes flitted around the expanse of the house, eventually spotting Steve by the sliding glass back door, standing with Nancy and Jonathan.

Your gaze followed Eddie’s. You hadn’t been totally sure Steve would be there, so you inwardly thanked the universe for small miracles. Now that Eddie could relax in like-minded company, you didn’t feel so bad parting ways with him for a little while. Of course, you wouldn’t have minded if Eddie tagged along by your side the whole night, but you knew he’d dread every minute of having to be around Jason and his buddies, who unfortunately came with the Chrissy package.

“Why don’t you go say hi?” you lightly nudged Eddie’s shoulder with yours, smiling up at him. “I’ll come find you in a little bit.”

Eddie’s chocolate hues dropped to you, a grateful expression on his face at your suggestion. “Don’t leave me hangin’ for too long, sweetheart,” he teased, although he really wasn’t joking at all. “I dunno how long I’ll last around all these big, scary basketball players without my Princess to protect me.” After a dramatic bow, Eddie vanished into the crowd.

Chrissy, beyond inebriated, hadn’t paid much attention to the exchange. With Eddie gone, she pulled on your arm, tugging you away, slurring, “C’mon! Y’have so many shots to drink t’catch up with me!”

𖤐 ֪ 𖤐 ֪ 𖤐

You really had not planned on getting drunk.

Tipsy, yeah, sure. A few beers, maybe a shot or two of some expensive spirit Mrs. Cunningham had imported from Europe.

But glassy-eyed and giggly, your skin flushed warm, an alcohol-induced pink blush sprouted over the apples of your cheeks?

No, that was not in tonight’s itinerary.

But Chrissy knew you’d been slaving away with work the past few months, hardly finding time in your busy schedule to come see your best friend cheer or link up and spend too much money at Starcourt Mall like you both used to.

You, although the same age as Chrissy, had gotten your diploma a year early, and hadn’t stopped working toward your goal of getting the hell out of Hawkins from the moment you walked across the stage at graduation. At job after job, you would often work overtime and weekends, trying to save up as much as you could.

It was admirable, but there had to be balance, something you were never good at finding on your own.

Damn Chrissy Cunningham for being so persuasive and persistent, wanting her best friend to let loose again and join her on a drunken tirade, similar to those you’d indulged in throughout your time together in high school.

Chrissy had begrudgingly disappeared several minutes earlier after Jason had swept her away. She didn’t want to leave you yet, wanted to spend as much time with you as she could, but she didn’t want to disappoint Jason either. You could see the struggle in her eyes, so you made the decision for her, promising you’d catch up more later in the week.

Plus, while you loved your best friend dearly, right now you felt a drumming deep within you – a desperate sensation. The tequila you’d downed urged you to find Eddie. You wanted to curl up into his side and breathe him in, wanted the aroma of his strawberry blunt wraps and tea-tree mint shampoo to fill your senses.

The party had dwindled down some, but there was still an impressive amount of people stationed all over the house, making it difficult to pinpoint exactly where your long-haired target was hiding out. There was no double vision yet, but you blinked a few times and took a breath to stabilize yourself anyway, not wanting to stumble drunkenly as you walked.

You’d made it as far as the kitchen when two arms branched out around either side of you, a letterman jacket coming into view as your lower back was pressed against the marble of the island counter. A tall male with dark hair and dark eyes smirked down at you, a predator satisfied he’d cornered his prey.

“Hey, you.”

“Hi, Chance,” you answered, not appreciating the personal space he was impeding on. You attempted to move out of his barrier, but he just repositioned his weight, keeping you caged in between his arms.

His breath was hot on your cheek, the smell of beer wafting from him strongly. Everything about him was making your stomach turn. “What’re you doin’ all by yourself?” he asked. “Heard you came with Munson,” pause for a scoff, “but I knew that must’ve been a fucking joke.”

“Why would that be a joke?” you countered, brows furrowed. “I did come here with him.” You moved your gaze from the annoying presence in front of you to scan the room, trying again to find Eddie. “Actually, d’you know where he is?”

“Oh yeah, saw him drawing a pentagram on the sidewalk out front. Think it was in virgin’s blood. He was speaking some other language, too.”

You rolled your eyes, your patience running very thin. You were so sick of people making assumptions and passing judgments just because someone else was different than they were.

You had half a mind to make a snide remark about how the whole town knew Chance Deely’s mom had an affair on his dad with the pastor from the Presbyterian church, and did that mean she must have been worshiping demons too since she did something so immoral and uncouth?

“Ha ha,” you deadpanned, trying again to duck away from his arms.

You took in a sharp breath when you felt Chance’s hand move to grip your waist, pulling your body to his.

“Come on, babe,” he said, the pads of his fingers digging uncomfortably into your clothed skin. “Lemme take you home. I know your daddy likes me. I’m sure I can convince him to let me stay the night…”

What a clueless moron. He didn’t even know you hadn’t lived with your parents for the past year now. But you’d let him keep thinking that, finding solace in the fact that he didn’t know where to find you if the creep ever decided to try and stalk you out one night.

“And do what?” you asked, now emboldened both by your intoxication and the nerve this idiot had cornering you like this. “Have a sleepover with him? I don’t want you, Chance.”

His jaw ticked, his features hardening, undoubtedly in an attempt to make you feel small and scared. You felt neither.

“Get off of me, Deely. I mean it.”

“Or what, huh? You gonna sic your vampire boyfriend on me?”

“No, I’ll fucking bite you myself.”

His eyes flashed and his tongue darted out to wet his lower lip as he considered you, humming in approval.

“Yeah, I’d like to get that mouth on me…”

You rolled her eyes again, so hard this time you wondered if they’d stick. “In your wet dreams, douchebag. Now get. Off.” You tried prying yourself away from him once more, swatting at the hand he had on your waist.

It just made Chance double down, pressing his center against you crudely. “I’m trying to get off, baby,” he said, giving a disgusting pout. “You won’t let me.”

“Do you not know what ‘no’ means, Deely?” a familiar voice interjected from behind Chance.

Your heart swelled as you raised your gaze to find Eddie’s dark eyes glaring daggers at the boy who’d had you cornered. You smiled wide at him, an odd juxtaposition when mixed with Eddie’s beyond irritated expression and Chance’s feeble attempts at seduction (which were more harassments than anything else).

You were so relieved to have this Bambi-eyed boy come to your rescue.

“What I do know is that nobody asked you, Munson,” Chance countered. He still kept his body turned towards yours, much to your dismay. “Why don’t you go and fuck a corpse or something, freak? Leave me –”

But his words were cut off when you brought your knee up to budge as hard as you could in between his legs.

Chance whined loudly, falling to the ground, clutching his hopefully bruised balls in his hands.

The partygoers had been distracted with their own conversations up until that point, but with Chance Deely crying out on the floor, writhing around pathetically, everyone’s attention was on you and Eddie.

“The fuck’s going on in here?” came Jason Carver’s voice over the other loud mumblings in the crowd.

“That's our cue to leave, Princess,” Eddie alerted, grasping your wrist in his hand as he pulled you from the Cunningham residence with haste.

You tossed your head back and laughed, hurriedly following Eddie out.

𖤐 ֪ 𖤐 ֪ 𖤐

The ride from Chrissy’s place to yours wasn’t long at all. Five minutes, tops.

While Eddie was focused on the road ahead of him, fingers white-knuckling the steering wheel at the thought of Chance Deely’s roaming hands, you were staring intently at your getaway driver.

You watched as his jaw clenched and relaxed, then clenched and relaxed again. He wasn’t doing anything special, just sitting there stewing in inner turmoil, but he was still so, so handsome. Handsome and heroic.

Although you were the one to administer the knee to Chance’s most prized possessions, you knew Eddie wouldn’t have hesitated to do the same and maybe even more to defend you. You thought back to the hateful look in his eyes as he stared the back of Chance’s head down, fists ready to make contact with the stupid fuck’s face if need be.

Eddie’s eagerness to be of service to you, for you, turned you on more than you thought it would. The fuzzy feelings from the alcohol helped loosen your inhibitions, and you found yourself squeezing your thighs together for some sort of friction as Eddie pulled up in front of your apartment.

You watched as he took a deep breath in, eyes shutting momentarily before exhaling and turning his attention to you.

He softened his face, forcing his mouth to curve into a smile. Underneath it all, you could tell he was still buzzing with anger and adrenaline.

“Would you please walk me inside?” you asked, your fingers toying with the hem of your dress. You were trying to appear inconspicuous. “They might know where I live. I’d feel safer if you came up with me.”

‘They’ meant Jason and his friends.

It maybe was a bit of overkill on your part to pull the damsel in distress card. You weren’t afraid of Carver or Deely. For the most part, they were all talk.

It also helped your sense of security that your neighbor across the hall was a police officer, something which Jason was aware of. He’d almost gotten arrested for banging on your door at one in the morning to try to get to Chrissy after the couple had one of their explosive arguments.

Chrissy had found refuge at your apartment a handful of times over the past year, leading Jason to look your address up so he always knew where to find his girlfriend when she ran off.

Each time he came pounding, Officer Hammond would swing open his door and dangle a pair of cuffs in Jason’s direction. It had the blonde boy scurrying away, the fear of an arrest that would hurt his chances at a basketball scholarship dominating his caveman impulse to steal Chrissy away.

Technically, you weren’t lying to Eddie. Although you weren’t scared of Carver and his friends, you would feel safer with Eddie around. Just because.

And fortunately for you, Eddie would never pass up the chance to play protector, especially when it was you who was asking him so nicely.

𖤐 ֪ 𖤐 ֪ 𖤐

“I can’t believe you kneed him in the nuts, that was fucking hilarious,” Eddie laughed, following you up the stairs to your third-floor apartment.

“I should have twisted them off, but then I would’ve had to touch him.” As an afterthought, you added, “Which, gross.”

“So gross,” Eddie agreed.

Stepping inside your apartment, you immediately kicked off your shoes. Eddie’s eyes dropped to the ground, following your movements, and he noted that you were wearing those cute white ankle socks with the pretty lace ruffle at the top. Those were the kind he remembered you wearing all the time at school, complete with your green, white, and yellow cheer outfit.

The memory of you in that uniform, bouncing up at down at one of the school rallies, had Eddie trying to secretly adjust himself in his jeans.

He he hung back in the doorway, ready to leave.

Eddie’d noticed the rousing stare you’d been giving him in the van. It was a look he’d often shot your way, when he was sure you weren’t paying attention. Full of want and yearning. He hadn’t missed the sight of your thighs pressing together either.

But you’d been drinking. That probably explained away the actions. You just weren’t thinking straight.

Eddie didn’t want to overstep or take advantage, so his plan was to be a gentleman and escort you up, then head back to his van and jerk off to the thought of you begging him to touch you.

You had other ideas.

You reached your hand out and bunched your fingers into his black Iron Maiden band tee, trying to tug him toward you. It wasn’t enough to physically move him, but enough so that he’d get the gist of what you wanted.

“What’re you still doing out there?” you asked, tilting your head down to look up at him through your lashes. Your expression was coy. “You can come inside, Eddie.”

A double entendre if he’d ever heard one. He had to force back a groan as his imagination went wild.

“I shouldn’t,” he tried, hand moving down to grasp yours in an attempt to loosen your grip. Eddie didn’t really want you to let go, though. He wished you’d grab him harder, not give him a choice, pull him inside and have your way with him. Gentleman, gentleman, gentleman, he had to remind himself in his head. “I was just making sure you got up here safe. I should, uh, probably get going… it’s kinda late…”

The pretty pout you shot at him further loosened his resolve to leave, and he felt glued to the spot in your entranceway. “I’m a big girl, Eddie, I don’t have a bedtime. You don’t wanna hang out more?” you asked, fingers tightening in the fabric of his shirt. “Y’know, I wasn’t serious about being afraid of Jason and his boyfriends… it was just a big ploy to get you to come up here with me.” You bit at your lip in an effort to hide a grin, trying to keep the innocent facade playing on your face. “Thought maybe I could show you where I live, since I’m always at yours… and I just rented the new Texas Chainsaw movie. Haven’t watched it yet.”

Eddie found it was getting increasingly harder to say no to you, with your hands on him, pulling him gently toward you. Each word you spoke sounded like it was being sung by a siren.

A movie seemed… safe.

His eyes drifted past you to your living room, where he assumed you’d want to watch it. He was satisfied with the size of the couch. He’d be able to put enough space between the two of you to keep it friendly, because that’s probably what you really wanted, just to be friendly, but the buzz you were still feeling maybe had you thinking you wanted to be a little more than just friendly.

In the morning, Eddie figured you’d probably regret anything you may have ended up trying to do. He promised himself he wouldn’t let you get that far. He figured he’d be able to limit any physical contact by positioning himself at whatever far end of the couch you weren’t on.

He really, really did want to be around you. He just couldn’t for the life of him believe or understand why you were saying you wanted the same thing. Must’ve been the booze.

But he could take advantage of this moment, couldn’t he? Without taking advantage of you? He would just make sure things stayed PG.

“You drive a hard bargain, Princess,” he conceded, giving in and walking inside. He clicked the door shut behind him, happy to have your hand still clinging needy to his shirt. “I can’t say no to a pretty girl who wants to watch Tobe Hooper with me. There’s just one thing that’d make this night even better…”

You rose an inquisitive brow at him. You could think of many, many things that would make this night better, and they all ended with you so fucked out that you couldn’t remember your name and could only remember Eddie’s.

Maybe he was about to finally give you both what you wanted – or, well, what you wanted, and what you had only hoped Eddie wanted, too.

You leaned closer to him, waiting for his suggestion.

“Got any popcorn?”

𖤐 ֪ 𖤐 ֪ 𖤐

You’d been on the couch with Texas Chainsaw Massacre playing in the background for the past half hour.

While you had ulterior motives and didn’t plan on strictly watching the entire time, Eddie was acting as if this was the greatest movie to have ever been written, his wide eyes almost unblinking as he focused on nothing but the television.

And even though he was also seated on the couch, he still seemed far away, having chosen to sit at the end furthest from you.

You didn’t want to encroach on his personal space, fearful maybe you’d been reading every sign you’d ever thought he’d given you wrong and he in fact wasn’t interested. Had you known for certain he wanted you like you wanted him, you would have been in his lap the second he sat down.

You had to play it a little safer first. Test the waters.

This is how your socked foot ended up in Eddie’s lap.

Totally safe.

The empty bowl of popcorn, which had been resting on one of Eddie’s knees, clattered to the floor when he felt your heel weighed down on his thigh.

Eddie had been forcing his attention to stay focused on the movie, not daring to drift his eyesight to you sprawled out beside him, your tight sundress so far up your legs he knew he’d be able to see your panties if he looked.

His gaze finally shot over to you when you’d made the contact, but you were now the one pretending to be engrossed in the gory horror movie. Eddie could have sworn he saw an uptick in the corner of your mouth when the bowl clattered to the ground, but it was dark and he couldn’t be sure.

Swallowing hard, his eyes dropped down to his lap, watching as your foot flexed and relaxed repeatedly.

The crotch of his jeans felt tight, his heartbeat picking up pace at the thought of you possibly feeling how hard he was growing right now. If you’d just move your foot over one or two more inches, he’d feel the solid warmth of you where he wanted to feel you the most.

How would you react? Would you freak out? You wouldn’t, right? You were playing footsies with his fucking lap, for Christ’s sake. This wasn’t innocent, was it? It couldn’t have been.

“You don’t mind, right?” you asked him, attention still on the TV, forcing nonchalance into your tone. “Feels good to stretch like this. And you’re so warm.”

He was about to respond, was about to say he didn’t mind, not at all; fuck, he’d be anything for you — a footrest, a heater, a guard dog, a servant, a total fucking fool. But when your foot finally met with the bulge forming under his denim, Eddie inhaled harshly, a hand coming up to wrap around your ankle, stopping you.

When he turned to look at you this time, you were staring right back at him.

You were propped up on your elbows now and he could feel you trying to wiggle your foot free.

“Let me, Eddie,” you urged. “Please.”

His grip faltered on your ankle at your pleading, and you took the chance to weasel it out of his hand. You wasted no time tracing the thick outline of him over his jeans with the ball of your foot, the bite of the zipper pressing into his sensitive length causing him to hiss.

You brought your other foot up to join in, using your toes to curl around the girth of him, kneading back and forth.

Those fucking socks, fuck. Eddie already had his fair share of dirty fantasies of you in your cheer uniform – the whole ensemble, head to toe – and he knew he’d now never be able to look at a pair of lacy frilled socks normally ever again.

Eddie groaned, his head falling back against the couch. His eyes fluttered shut but only momentarily before they found you again. You didn’t bother containing your wide grin, your teeth sunk into the softness at the center of your bottom lip.

“Put your hands on them, pet,” he gave another groan at the nickname, “so you can make yourself feel good.”

Eddie’s brain was clouded with desire, and he could feel his face warming at your request.

“I don’t – I mean, um… you’re drunk…” he was stumbling over his words because your feet wouldn’t stop, rubbing and pressing in all the right places.

Your head dipped back with a little laugh. “Not really,” you lied. You were definitely still feeling the effects of a forgotten number of mixed drinks, but that didn’t change the fact that you’d been hoping this was where the night would lead five hours ago. Or even five months ago. Very pre-drunkenness. “And even if I was…” you trailed off momentarily, giving your heel another ground down against his lap. “Was I drunk when I held your hand at the party? Or when I told you earlier how much I liked being around you?”

Eddie thought for a moment before shaking his head. No, you weren’t. Holy shit, so he had read all your signs right. You were interested in him. He wasn’t just imagining all of it.

Okay, fuck. He could work with that. He probably shouldn’t, probably should have stuck to his guns and told you to wait until tomorrow when you were for sure sobered up.

But Eddie was typically an act now, deal with it later type of guy. And right now, he was finding it very hard to be any different.

He’d never done anything like this before, had never even gotten much further than just making out, but Eddie didn’t let his self-doubt rule at the forefront of his mind for once.

Not tonight.

Not with your feet in his lap and your voice telling him the dirty things you wanted him to do. Not when his upstairs brain was closing up shop, tossing the keys to his confined cock.

“Wanna make you feel good, too,” he said, hands finding your ankles again. He didn’t halt their movements this time. Now he encouraged them to move, slowly beginning to rock his hips up into the soles of your feet.

With that admission, you realized you weren’t just projecting your own desires when you’d catch him staring at you through the kitchen window while you played with Olly out front; when he’d put his hands on your waist as he passed by you in the trailer’s cramped hallway; when he’d lick his lips and watch your own as you talked to him about some minor detail from your day.

Eddie wanted you, too.

And with how fucking hard he was, you realized he wanted you bad.

Your head lolled to one side as you observed him. “I wanna watch you use me ‘till you’re about to come.” The TV wasn’t too far away, and with the relatively bright scene on the screen at the moment, you could tell he was hanging off of your every word. You could feel him tightening his grip around the width of your feet, pulling them down harder against him. “If you’re a good boy and stop before you get all messy, then maybe I’ll let you make me feel good, too.”

Eddie’s brows furrowed in equal parts desire and disbelief at your words, his parted lips forming the shape of an ‘O’. It was all he could do to nod wordlessly, feeling dumb in the best kind of way, his eyes not wavering from yours once as he got to work.

[etheries1015]

Sorry, I overread it (It's currently 10pm where I live, I've been up since 4am, and my anxiety is kicking. Requesting things from people I never requested before is hard >.<)

May I request Riddle, Kalim, Idia and Malleus reacting to finding out their crush is trans-masc? Either by reader telling them or them finding out by accident

Never apologize for asking questions and sending asks! Please take care of yourself, get lots of rest, water, and sustenance <3

Finding out you're trans-masc

Featuring: Riddle, Kalim, Idia, Malleus

WARNINGS (please read): I'm a cis woman and I CANNOT stress enough that I may not be able to portray this as well as someone who actually identifies as such! I did do research ahead of time to make sure I try my very best to capture the essence of someone who identifies as trans-masc, but everyone's experiences are different. If I, in ANY way shape, or form, used incorrect terminology/representation or mistakenly offended anyone, please educate me so that I become more knowledgeable and can build my understanding. Other than that, I hope I did well in writing this for you to enjoy <3 Thank you for your time and for the request <3

Riddle

The topic came up during the first time you had gone to an Unbirthday party. Being misgendered by Riddle, you spoke up gently to inform him of your disposition.

"I'm...well, I don't use She/her pronouns." You shrugged. Riddle pursed his lips in frustration at his own confusion, he hadn't met someone falling under the LGBTQ umbrella before, he was incredibly sheltered and closed-minded for a long time due to his mother's teachings.

"I see..." Riddle nodded, "Then, please explain it to me so that I may not make the same mistake twice." He was eager to learn more about people and their experiences, especially learning about someone he found himself becoming more and more attached to.

Spends an entire night reading upon such topics- he was very quick to adapt and correct people around you whenever he found they did not address you properly.

"Does it bother you?" You had asked him once out of pure curiosity, and his response was with furrowed eyebrows and confusion.

"And why should it? It does not matter what you identify as. You are still (y/n). You are not your gender, and not your sex. You are..." He blushed deeply, you smiling to urge him on. You knew about his crush on you, of course, yet he seemed to be far too shy to admit it yet.

"You're..." He hesitated, "failing this class. G-get back to studying! quit getting distracted with silly questions or it's off with your head!"

You loved seeing him open his mind to many different concepts and treat you no differently than anyone else (minus some favoritism, hehe <3)

Kalim

It was actually Jamil who brought it up in conversation. The topic of "LGBTQ" came up, of course, Kalim understood the basics of people who identified as gay, however when the term "trans-masc" came up in regards to you, he was incredibly eager to learn more.

"Trans-masc? I thought they were (y/n)?"

"Kalim- no-"

It didn't take long for him to easily come around to the new terminology. You maybe gave him a 10 minute crash course before he accepted it face value.

"I see...so one day you're going to be by my side not as a queen, but as my royal spouse!" You were flabbergasted at his brazen comment. With a red face, you hadn't time to react before his hands were already around you in a deep hug.

"Haha! Oh, right! The pop club has a new song, wanna listen to it?"

He loves you no matter what. The most understanding and unconditionally in love person to exist, the definition of sunshine

Might overshare sometimes. He will bring it up sometimes to other people (if they misgender you) and give THEM a crash course on it! You love that he is so passionate about you, though. xoxo

Idia

He knew. He is chronically online, he knows all about it. When he first met you, he even asked what your preferred pronouns were.

I don't really know what else to say for Idia, he honestly doesn't care who you identify as. You play video games with him and give him love, that's enough for him!!

Can take it incredibly seriously If someone misgenders you or tries to bully you about your identity, his hair turns a fiery red and he turns gives them a whole one hour lesson while belittling that person calling them as intelligent as a soggy piece of bread.

The other person is crying by the end of it, but honestly nobody deserves to be treated disrespectfully like that.

actually how he confessed his crush to you, lol. In a fit of rage to someone who wasn't being very kind... "How dare you treat the one I love like that, you stupid normie piece of-" Realizes his mistake, face turns red, turns to you (whos face is also red)

"ummm.....Nevermind!" He runs away, but there was no getting away from you heuheu

even though he can be shy and kind of tsundere in public, he can be really passionate and will defend you at a moments notice and educate other people who are, as he puts, less than him.

In private? Sitting in his lap playing video games

Malleus

Actually, learned this from Idia. It was during class when the topic of LGBTQ came up, and when speaking among the students he over heard Idia telling ortho about your disposition as trans-masc.

Immediately came to you

"Child of man, what is 'trans-masc' and why did Idia use this term to describe you? Could you elaborate?" You two decided to take a stroll around the forest where you spent hours talking about all sorts of different people and the terms they used, explaining to him about dysphoria and how you discovered that the pronouns you were born with just didn't sit right with you.

Nods in understanding, but ends up purchasing a bunch of books Idia and Lilia recommended to him to increase his understanding.

Even though there are indeed things he will never be able to sympathize with properly and understand, such as the effects of dysphoria, but he will respect you full heartedly and not treat you any different despite still growing to learn about such topics.

All in all, it does not matter what you identify as. He finds himself completely enamored with you, loving how you teach him new things about anything and everything with humans- he will treat you the same as you treat him- impartial due to status, class, gender, pronouns, human or fae. He knew you were the one he wanted to rule Briar Valley next to one day- as his lovely spouse.

~~

I hope I was able to answer your request satisfyingly <3 Please let me know if anything needs to be changed and I shall update accordingly, I myself am always learning and growing every day! Please be kind <3

[satureja13]

As a story teller, what advice would you give to fellow Simmers who want to start a story but struggle?

For example: How did you start story telling and which obstacles did you have to shove out of the way to finally start? What made it easier for you to put yourself out there? Did you gain any personal rewards/benefits by telling your stories? How do you set up a story post? Pics first or plotting the episode? Where do you find inspiration? What did you wish you knew earlier? Or anything else that comes to your mind that could be of any help. I see quite a lot of posts from struggling future story tellers and I thought it would be nice to collect a few tips.

Questions are very welcome too!

(My answers below the cut)

How to actually start:

I do read quite a lot and also watch series and movies - and what really turns me off is an infodump at the beginning. So I try to avoid that. And that also makes it easy to start. All the lore and background stories can happen later and you don't have to plot that out before you start. (Our current story started as a playtest and hundreds of episodes later, we have a lore as deep as the Mariana Trench ö.Ö') So don't let it stop you. It all evolves over time, when you ask yourself: Why did x have to move and go to a new school? Why is y restraining himself to hit on the cute guy? Why is z so annoyed of y and why is he the only one who thinks like this? How do they cope with stuff that happens to them? Why does x react in another way than y on the same event? ... There is a plot behind literally everything if you just take your time and look closely. Like a three year old child: "Why do we eat cute animals?" ö.ö' Showing your character's feelings and why they are who they are also helps you and the reader to form a connection to them. It never ceases to amaze me when story tellers are able to create characters that grow on you even though they are annoying and vulnerable and have flaws. (Like Terry Pratchett for example, or the characters in The Big Bang Theory.)

Which obstacles did you have to shove out of the way to finally start? I have a few obstacles to overcome putting my stories out there. ADHD often keeps me from concentrating and getting things done. It's hard to stick with something when you're distracted all the time. And I have a weird way of thinking. I'm also autistic and writing about feelings and how others think and stuff, is so, so hard for me. My stories are weird because of all of that and I know it. But I think they are quite unique and fun because of that and I wouldn't want it any other way :3 Plus my english isn't very good. Writing in a different language is quite an obstacle to overcome ö.Ö' But I can't write anything in my native language, I even take my notes in english. I have no idea why. Just sounds wrong to me.

What made it easier for me? - starting slowly I started this tumblr over ten years ago to post about my builds. Only a few people saw and liked my stuff so I got bolder and also shared gameplay pics and, after a while, a few stories. - passion I love my Sims, I think that helps a lot. After all these years, I'm still eager to see what they are up to and to tell about their shenanigans and adventures. - keeping expectations low Of you and your audience. It does not have to be perfect and not everyone will like what you do. That's just a fact. You'll get better at your own pace. I think tumblr is the perfect place to start a story, because if someone doesn't like your stuff, they don't have to follow you. - it's an outlet for my creativity. My ADHD brain is running on warp speed. Sitting down and putting some of these ideas and thoughts in a shape and make them real is relieving for me - and exciting! What rewards/benefits did/do I gain? - learning new stuff: I'm still learning english and just a few days ago, I shed tears of joy because I could finally understand an american series without subtitles! Also Photo editing. I kept looking for better ways to edit my screenshots and I learned so much! My Sims even inspired me to craft some stuff in RL ^^' - changing my point of view Telling about 6 different charcters is quite a challenge. Things that happen to them affect them in different ways and they have their own way to cope with stuff. They helped my autistic me a lot to make me see what's going on with people around me and to understand them.

- healing Seeing how the characters in my story cope with hardships and following them through difficult times helped me a lot. I could never express how glad and grateful I am I started all this. But I am. - fun I'm having fun doing what I do. And I think that's the motor that runs this whole thing. I think the readers can feel if you're commited to what you do.

How do I set up a story post? I have a rough idea where the story is going and what's supposed to happen next. Then I go ingame and take the screenshots, my Sims add a few ideas themselves - and I go with it. I write the post around the screenshots and what happened ingame. Like this, it's still surprising and thrilling - even for me, the story teller.

Where do I find inspiration? My brain goes without filters and I need a lot of time to get back on track after challenging days. But this sponge in my head also soaks up so many ideas! I get inspired by anything. Music, series, things I see... Sometimes, that sponge gets squished and I get to see glimpsesof future episodes and I just think 'whoa!' and take notes.

What advice can I give? Use the things that keep you from starting to your advantage - to make your story special and unique. Don't worry too much. Other people don't see things as serious as you might think. Write for your own healing and growth. There are mutuals who will like what you have to tell. You don't have to please everybody. Read others' stories, watch movies/series you like and note what you liked or disliked. That gives you a rough direction of where your story could go (that was a great advice from youtuber Grayson Taylor, link is below).

What I wish I knew earlier? That there are great youtube channels for writers! I know, that's kind of obvious, but I don't feel like a writer. I barely managed to finish school. And I thought those channels might be too sophisticated and dry, you know? But there are aweome ones. Like Grayson Taylor (who is an author) and Bookfox, (who is editor and author), for example.

You'll never know where it leads. Our current story started when I made four of my favourite adult Sims teenagers to check out the Highschool Years pack. That was ~ 2 1/2 years ago - and I hated school from the bottom of my heart, so I was very sure this wouldn't take long and we could go back to our ongoing story (spoiler: we didn't...). And: the first chapters the Boys spent at school were truely healing for me. I didn't plan anything of it ^^'

Don't be afraid. I'm here on tumblr for over ten years and I never got any hate on my stories or the other stuff I post. Though, I turned anon off. You decide what you see on your dash, that's the great thing here on tumblr. You just get as much drama as you invite in. For me, tumblr is my save place and I still say this is one of the best communities I've ever been part of (on and off line). Thank you <3

[curlyangelsblog]

✿ Yandere!Tomura Shigaraki x F!Reader ✿

・┆✦ʚ♡ɞ✦ ┆・・┆✦ʚ♡ɞ✦ ┆・┆✦ʚ♡ɞ✦ ┆・

( Hello ! I wanna start a new Yandere series and here is a little sneak preview of it ;) please if you want tell me what you think so far and tell me what you wanna see in it and please leave request for more series and shorts I’d appreciate. I wanna be more Active on here and find mutuals. Hope you all have nice holidays. <3)

・┆✦ʚ♡ɞ✦ ┆・・┆✦ʚ♡ɞ✦ ┆・┆✦ʚ♡ɞ✦ ┆・

„Aww come on ten ten don’t be such a sore loser“ you giggled into his headphones.

„yeah whatever“ was all he mumbled back with a blush on his cheeks which you couldn’t see. You and Tomura, or Tenko as he introduced himself to you, have been gaming together for 2-3 months now. You guys met in some sort of chat room and have been hitting it off ever since. You not only game together but also talk on the phone for hours on end about Friends and Family , personal stuff and obviously gaming. Well you more then him. He love listening to you ramble. Your cute voice and addicting laugh.

„It’s getting kind of late ten ten (you’re the only person that gets to call him that) I have work early in the morning but it was nice talking to you“ you giggled. It really was you always felt like he was the only person that understood you. And he felt the same maybe even more but he wasn’t ready to admit that.

„Sleep well ten ten !“

„You too“

Was all he said and that was enough for you. You always knew what he was intending on saying and what he meant.

—————— next day—————————————————

From [y/n] : Hey Tenko you ready to play r/g (random Game) again ૮ ˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶ ა♡ ?

To [y/n] : sure

You were actually really good also a reason why he liked playing with you besides your cute voice. It was getting kind of frustrating that you were so good. Not to mention you were enjoying yourself quit a bit and making little remarks about how bad he was.

„Ok now your not THAT good“ he said

„I only won four times in a row didn’t I“ you said cheekily.

„Yeah yeah whatever“

„Well maybe you can learn a couple of things from me if you would watch me play“

What did you mean watch you play. Did you stream ? You guys have been talking about all lot of stuff but jobs and other hobbies have never really been topic. You did send him pictures before so he kinda knew what you looked like. You were the most beautiful girl he has ever seen. But all he said that he didn’t need to watch you.

„Here is the link to my channel if you ever change your mind“

Tomura could feel how his heart sped up and a blush was creeping on his skin. He had to suppress the urge to click on the link and watch you stream. He had recordings of your voice which he listens to every night and the pictures you send him which he looked at when he felt down or when he did other things… But it wasn’t his fault that he got hard looking at you. You were just so beautiful to him.

„Buuut let’s finish this round I’m getting kind of tired ten ten“

„This time I’m gonna beat ya“ he said chuckling. The excitement and the images of you streaming shot right to his member. He wondered if you were one of those who wore slutty clothes and took money from old men. He was gritting his teeth trying not to make a sound. It excited him being able to see you more often it wasn’t enough to just see your pictures anymore he needed more. He won the round and he let out an excited “yes!” Which made him blush a little bit he was still a little awkward about showing so much emotions. You like it tho it was cute the way he got excited. You grumbled in response to loosing against.

“Well I can’t lie that was pretty good ten ten”

You guys logged off for the night. And as soon as the call ended Tomura clicked on the link as fast as possible. The link led him to your stream account it was as he imagined all pastel and pinky it was so you . The brightness stung in his eyes but he was too eager to look away. You were at almost 350k follows how has he never seen you. Well looking through you content you did play games you two liked to play but the majority of you content was games he wasn’t too familiar with. He clicked on one of your videos. The latest one of your streams. You greeted you viewers with a little wave and that cute smile of yours. He couldn’t look away. He had to have you…

[alxtiny]

An Art Gallery could never be as unique as you | Kang Yeosang x Reader

Synopsis: where yeosang finds a masterpiece in an art gallery

Pairing: kang yeosang x reader

Genre: fluff

Word count: 2.1k

Warnings: mentions of insecurities

Notes: hi :) hehe

masterlist

Yeosang took a deep breath as he stepped into the art gallery, his steps carrying him through the serene atmosphere of creativity. The soft hum of murmured conversations and the occasional click of a camera shutter filled the air, but it was a comforting background noise to him, far removed from the usual chaos of his life as an idol.

He had been waiting for a while for this particular expo to open. He had come across it while looking for something new to add to the empty walls in his room. What fascinated him was the way each piece had been described on their website, as if it were a conversation or a story.

Dressed in minimalistic clothing, a bucket hat pulled low over his eyes and a mask securely covering his face, he hoped to blend in with the crowd and avoid any encounters with fans. Don’t get him wrong he loved his fans but sometimes it could get a bit too much, especially when he didn’t have the others to help him. Today was meant to be his quiet day, he took this as chance to indulge in something he wouldn’t generally look for.

As he wandered through the gallery, his eyes flitted over the carefully arranged paintings and sculptures, each having its own story, which he would read about in the complimentary catalogues. Walking deeper into the vivid space his eyes were drawn to one particular painting, tucked away in a corner. It stood out amongst the others, its presence demanding attention even from a distance. As if it called out to him, Yeosang made his way towards it, his curiosity piqued.

It was different from the others. Unlike the others from a distance it looked devoid of colour. The painting was that of a face, whose expression was mostly obscured, hidden behind a veil of distorted lines and smudges. Yet, despite the chaos surrounding them, there was a hint of emotion beneath the surface – something that wasn’t so easy to decipher. There was a slightly unsettling way the face in the painting smiled, it looked almost like it was mocking the viewer.

And then there was the heart-shaped mark at the corner of the lips, furious red against the monochrome backdrop. It was a small detail, but to Yeosang it felt eerily familiar.

Yeosang found himself captivated by the artwork, his gaze lingering on the details of the piece. He was drawn to it but couldn’t understand why. He flipped through the catalogue, eager to learn more about the artist's intentions but discovered not much explaining the thought process behind it. He wondered what story the painting wished to tell.

Lost in thought, Yeosang stalled in front of the painting, the rest of the world fading away, until a voice broke him out of his reverie, “Do you like it that much? You’ve been staring for quite a while.”

Yeosang blinked in surprise as you approached him, your question bringing back the chatter in the background. He turned to face you, ready to defend the artist and justify his lingering. As he looked at your face, he felt a shiver go up his spine. To him the painting had come to life, and it was standing beside him.

A soft smile graced your lips, so different from the one in the artwork. As he recovered from the initial shock, Yeosang's gaze shifted from you to the painting and back again, his mind racing to make sense of the connection.

Then, his eyes fell on the birthmark next to your lips, red like smudged lipstick, somewhat in the shape of a heart, the same as his own birthmark next to his left eye. The resemblance freaked him out a little if he was being honest. He pointed at you and then at the painting, silently questioning the similarity.

You laughed gently, your eyes sparkling with amusement. "Yes, that's me. I painted that piece, actually. It's a self-portrait."

Yeosang's eyes widened in astonishment, a mix of disbelief and wonder washing over him. As the realization sank in, An embarrassed flush crept up his neck. He couldn't quite wrap his head around the fact that he had been gawking at a painting of the very person standing near him for god knows how long.

It's quite a rare chance to meet the artist of a painting, that has you allured, out of the blue. This was certainly far from the uneventful day Yeosang had wished for, but since fate wanted its way then who's he to deny it.

Unable to contain his curiosity any longer, eager to learn more about the reason behind the style you chose for the painting and the emotions that had fueled its creation, Yeosang blurted out, “Why did you make this?”, a look of confusion flashed across your face.

Yeosang, realising how blunt and rude that sounded, immediately covered his mouth and let out a muffled gasp. His eyes widened, knowing that he offended you, until an amused smile made its way to your lips as you nodded at him to continue.

Slowly he moved his hands away, “S-Sorry”, he stuttered “I meant what was the inspiration behind it, I didn’t mean to sound rude,” he continued slowly, his gaze downcast.

“Mhmm, I thought as much. Well there’s a long story behind it but I wouldn’t want to bore you with the details,” you replied.

“No no I asked I want to know,” he said nodding eagerly

“Alright,” you sighed, before flashing a soft smile his way, “but let's not talk here, how about we go to that cafe across the street, I heard it’s really good,”

Yeosang, happy that you agreed to share what seemed like a vulnerable memory with just a stranger like him, quickly agreed, he didn’t understand it yet but he wanted to know everything about you.

Leaving the gallery you walked to the cafe, Yeosang blinked as he saw the familiar café come into view, he came here quite frequently with the guys. “I like it here, its perfect when I’m in need of some inspiration,” you whispered, noticing his reaction.

“I can’t believe we’ve never come across before, I like to come here too, sometimes with company,” he responded shyly.

You chuckled at his bashfulness, as you both walked up to the counter to give your orders, that Yeosang, being a gentleman, sneakily paid for when you were retrieving your wallet, chuckling at your insistence on paying him back.

You took your drinks and headed to one of the farther off tables of the cafe near the windows. You sighed deeply as you settled into the plush chair, deeply inhaling the scent of your bicerin, feeling completely at peace.

Taking a sip of your coffee, you looked up at Yeosang who was watching your actions carefully, his own glass of iced americano sitting untouched, dripping condensation onto the table. He gazed at you expectantly, eyes silently urging you to start speaking. The silence wasn’t awkward or unbearable rather it was comforting, yet you began talking.

“You asked why I made this painting, a valid question…but I don’t think I have a proper answer for it. I guess it was a ‘in the moment’ kind of thing, it’s a rather old piece, from a time when it wasn’t all that great for me. You see this,” you paused, pointing to your birthmark, Yeosang nodded.

“It wasn’t always something I wanted people to see, I usually covered it up somehow, feeling burdened by its presence but later, much later in life I realised it wasn’t something to be so concerned about, it is a part of me and people will talk and talk, so why should i care.”

You went on, Yeosang listened intently, hanging onto your every word. He could feel the overwhelming pain in your voice, the intense emotions behind sharing such a personal experience.

“The painting was a rebellion against those ugly thoughts, I guess around then i stopped covering it up,” you explained, shrugging your shoulders.

“But you are beautiful,” Yeosang suddenly whispered with a frown on his face, “You shouldn’t hide just cause some people said so, they were probably jealous,” a small pout formed on his lips. Your face flushed at his words, a shy smile gracing your lips, “Yeah, so I’ve learned.”

“I have one too, right here,” Yeosang pointed to his left eye, pushing back his hair a little. You noticed the pink smudge, surprised you hadn’t seen it earlier.

“It looks like mine,” you whispered in awe, reaching out to gently trace the discolouration with your fingers. His skin flushes around where your fingertips come in contact.

“I was like you too and I too found people who appreciated me and loved me, we may be similar in that aspect.” Yeosang said with a bitter chuckle. He remembered the time when he himself had experienced moments of self-doubt and insecurity, times when he felt like he wasn't enough. But like you, he had grown and evolved, finding strength in the support of those around him.

Nodding in understanding, you shared a small smile, as comfortable silence fell again. “Thank you for listening to me, Yeosang. I really needed this,” You spoke up with a wide smile.

Yeosang looked up from his coffee, opening his mouth to speak, but he paused, eyes widening in surprise as you mentioned his name. "Wait, how did you know my name?" he asked, a hint of disbelief in his voice.

You chuckled softly, shaking your head. "I know who you are, Yeosang. It's not every day you see an idol wandering around an art gallery in disguise," you replied, a playful glint in your eyes.

He blinked, a mix of astonishment and amusement crossing his features. "I guess I'm not as inconspicuous as I thought," he mused, running a hand through his hair sheepishly.

You shrugged, smiling. "It's okay, it's refreshing to see idols enjoying normal things like art exhibits. Plus, it gave me the perfect opportunity to strike up a conversation with you," you said, taking a sip of your drink.

Yeosang couldn't help but laugh at your candidness. "Well, I'm glad you did. This has turned out to be a much more interesting day than I anticipated," he admitted, a smile tugging at his lips.

The two of you continued to chat, your conversation meandering from art to music to random anecdotes about your lives. Despite the initial awkwardness, Yeosang found himself enjoying your company immensely. There was something about your easygoing nature and genuine warmth that put him at ease.

As the afternoon wore on and the cafe began to empty out, you glanced at the time and let out a small gasp. "Wow, I didn't realize how late it's gotten. I should probably start heading home," you said, gathering your things.

As you both gathered your things and prepared to leave the cafe, Yeosang felt a rush of nervousness tingling in his chest. He shifted on his feet, feeling the weight of his words hanging in the air.

"Um, hey," he begins, his voice a little shaky. "I was thinking... would you maybe want to go out on an official date sometime? I'd really like to get to know you more."

He looks up at you, his cheeks flushed with embarrassment but his eyes earnest and hopeful. He can't help but feel a surge of vulnerability, unsure of how you'll respond to his daring question.

You pause, a smile playing on your lips as you meet his gaze. "You know what, I would really love that," you reply, your voice warm and sincere. "I've had a great time getting to know you today, and I'd definitely like to spend more time with you."

Relief floods over Yeosang, the tension in his body easing away and a wide grin spreading across his face. "Really? That's great!" he exclaims hands clasping together, unable to contain his excitement. "I'll make sure to plan something really special for us."

You nod and laugh, returning his smile. "I look forward to it," you say, feeling a flutter of anticipation in your stomach at the thought of your upcoming date.

With plans made, numbers exchanged and hearts aflutter, the two of you bid each other farewell, already counting down the days until your next meeting. And as Yeosang walks home, a spark of excitement fills his chest, he feels a rush in his head, knowing that he's found someone special to share his time with.

© alxtiny . Do not steal, plagiarise, translate, repost, or use my works on any platform in any way.

Send an ask or a message to be added to taglist

DISCLAIMER: THIS IS PURE FICTION AND NOT RELATED TO THE MEMBERS OF ATEEZ IN REAL LIFE PLEASE DO NOT TAKE IT SERIOUSLY

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[ipostdumbthings]

Romantic Headcanons for Sorcerer Reader with BG3 Companions

Astarion

Well of course he attempts to seduce you, magic is so deep inside you, there’s no telling the scope of things you could be capable of, especially when directed towards his own interests. Expect him to initially try to manipulate in the early stages, and he may get a little frustrated if you don’t fall for it. It’s not personal, of course, he has to insure his own safety. In some ways, it’s a compliment. You’re useful.

The thing that strikes him first about you, is watching you cast your magic. The effortless way it flows from you is like poetry in motion, and he’s nothing if not a man that can appreciate beauty in its various forms.

He’s a bit hesitant in confiding in you, you’re a person of considerable power, and that’s a concern for him. He doesn’t want to find himself again at the whims of a powerful person, so it’s extremely important you treat him as an equal and show that you have deep respect for his abilities.

When you do, he finds himself more comfortable than he expected in confiding in you. Afterall, you can actually help him, you can protect him if the need arises. Something he’s just so eager to return the favor on.

Shadowheart

While she respects your privacy if you don’t wish to discuss it, Shadowheart can’t help but be curious about you. Where does your magic come from? It’s an interesting mystery, that she’ll have fun hypothesizing on her own if you don’t or can’t supply her with answers. It’s more a fun thing for her to think about as opposed to something she’s determined to get to the bottom of, but the idea of being impacted by some magical being through ancestry, happenstance, or mishap deeply resonates with her.

That makes conversations with her frequent and pleasant. You’ll find yourselves initially scratching the surface on such matters, fun little chats about that and the members of the group. She enjoys these moments quite a bit, and it won’t take long before you’re having much deeper conversations.

Because you aren’t necessarily attached to a deity, she finds it a lot easier to talk about her faith with you than she may be with others. You’ll be able to learn her deep held philosophies and personal beliefs, and your status as an outsider means you might have the unbiased insight that may help reaffirm and challenge them.

She’s very fond of your magic, and the way you cast it, she swears that it feels differently when you do it. 

Gale

If you’re the sort of sorcerer that looks at Wizards with reverence and respect, you’ll find that you and Gale buddy up almost immediately. In fact it becomes a bit of a running joke amongst the group (mostly from Astarion) that the two of you have formed a club for magic nerds.

Oh how dear you become to him quickly, the bond is soft and affectionate, a meeting of two like-minds and equals. He has the utmost respect for your talents and has complete trust in your abilities. 

You may even become a source of inspiration for him in the form of pushing his magic or even his poetry. Your relationship is forged first on that mutual respect and adoration, it is deep and emotionally passionate.

If you’re the other sort of Sorcerer, however, the sort that likes to be snarky/smug/condescending towards Wizards, you’ll find that energy met in kind by Gale. It’ll start out sincere too, a genuinely discontentment for your dismissal of his talents. Make no mistake, he’ll serve the snark and condescension back, and he’s an expert in both.

But when you prove you're devoted to the cause, and that you’re capable and willing to help your teammates, that dynamic will start to move from mildly antagonistic to genuinely playful. Which ignites a connection of a different sort. The sexual tension is palpable.

It doesn’t mean he’s going to act on it any faster, but no one can miss the chemistry between the two of you. The emotional connection will deepen as you two navigate that dynamic, because he won’t pursue anything with anyone that he only has a physical connection with. 

Lae’zel

Lae’zel is very quickly enamored with you. You naturally have skills that people spend decades honing, and you wield them with the same precision and accuracy that she wields her blade. That’s no small feat. It makes you a most attractive candidate for a partner.

You can expect her to approach you quite often for sex, she’ll take any excuse to wear you out. Especially after you do something particularly impressive.

It surprises her how much she finds herself liking your charm and charisma. The way you can guide conversations or have the force of will required to navigate any situation is what makes her start thinking of you as more than partner in sex. That doesn’t mean she wants you to try putting those moves on her by any stretch of the imagination, but she has to admit it’s impressive to witness you do it to others.

You’re one of the few humans who’s lead she will gladly follow. She respects you, and in an interesting turn of events she didn’t expect, she trusts you. You might even manage to get her to start having some deep conversations with her much sooner than most do.

Wyll

In some ways Wyll envies you, and he’ll admit to as much in his charming way. It’s hard not to wonder what his life would’ve looked like had he been born into magic instead of the path he took to it. He doesn’t say it to make you feel bad for him, but merely to express how much he respects your capabilities.

You’ll find him responsive and sensitive when you confide in him the struggles being a sorcerer can provide. He doesn’t assume your life has been easier than his, and he’s empathetic and compassionate to your history.

Respect between the two of you is like second nature, you have a sense of mutuality that many other relationships may struggle with. It’s a genuine connection between two people on equal footing, and he wouldn’t trade that for anything.

He does romanticize the story you share together, but it’s not cheesy or whitewashed. It reflects the genuine and grand feelings he has for you, the sense of beauty in the world you spark for him. 

Karlach

Karlach isn’t as impressed by your magic as some of the others are, don’t get her wrong, it’s really nifty you can do that stuff, but Karlach is much more moved by actions and content of character rather than fancy things like who can cast the shiniest spell. There are a few exceptions to this, of course.

She does simply adore it when you cast the fun spells though. The first time you decide to host a little light show in camp, she is absolutely delighted. She insists that you need to do that at a party with music so she can properly dance to it.

She also quickly gets fond of yelling at you to polymorph some arseholes who fancy themselves impressive right in the middle of their monologues. You can hear her cheers for a mile if you actually interrupt some evil idiot by doing it.

The magic doesn’t make the connection you two share anymore meaningful to her, true, but it can be an amazing source of fun for her, and she desperately craves those moments after spending so long miserable.

You may find her wondering if you can cast a spell while she tosses you into a fight, like, if you cast burning hands after having been properly yeeted, would you be able to spray it across the battlefield as you went? Expect a lot of those hypotheticals. It’s one of her favorite ways to spend time with you.

Halsin

Halsin considers you proof of the powerful and wonderful capability of nature, regardless of what sort of magic you favor. After all, you are what happens when magic and man entwine completely, and you should expect him to have a romanticized idea of what that means.

He sees your casting as part of the very fabric of who you are, and he takes great pleasure in watching you cast and perform your talents. He’s just as delighted to listen to your experience and views on magic and nature.

He, probably more than anyone else in camp, is very aware of just how… delicate people of your skills can be. Not that he doesn’t think you’re capable, but is very much aware of how much he needs to to stand in front of you as a bear when danger is nearby. He often tries to position himself to make it easy to step in front of you when tension runs high.

He’s also very quick to check in with you after a fight to make sure you aren’t seriously injured. He’s quick to heal you if you need it, and will definitely carry you to safety if the need arises. 

[popatochisssp]

I don't think this has been asked before: what if the boy's very close human friend/partner wanted to learn magic from them? And showed at least a BIT of potential in being physically capable of doing so?

Oh that’s interesting!

I think some would definitely be more helpful with something like that than others…

Sans (Undertale): If you decide you want to be a mage, that’s great and he can’t deny he’s at least a little curious to see how it pans out for you, but as for teaching you himself… Well. He can probably help you out with some of the super-ultra-basics, but beyond that he doesn’t have much to offer. He’s got a lot of magic and knows how to use it, sure, but he’s something of a prodigy there, so he never really did a whole lot of actual learning or practice, he just…figured it out. Probably not the best for imparting that to somebody who’s starting at zero so you might want to learn from a better teacher. And one who's less lazy, because of course, he is also very lazy. But hey, he’s rooting for you!

Papyrus (Undertale): Oh fantastic, that’s amazing that you want to learn magic! Of course he’s happy to help, your training begins now! He’s super excited by the chance to help and teach you everything he knows—which is quite a bit, he’s very talented and the strength and sophistication of his magic has only grown over the years!—but it’s possible he might be a little too eager about it. It’s almost the only thing he’s interested in from the moment you bring it up, so you’ll probably have to be firm with him when you want or need time to do something else. He means well, he just wants to see you succeed, and it’s so much fun to show you how things work!

Sky (Underswap Sans): He’s totally flattered if you want him to help you learn, and determined not to let you down by being anything less than the best tutor! He’ll be very mindful of your time and energy and skill level, and be sure to check in with you a lot with how you think things are going. If there’s any downside at all, it’s that he doesn’t always know how to explain the things about magic that feel obvious and natural to him, but are confusing or alien to a human. He’ll do everything he can to get past those blocks, but there’s definitely going to be times where he’s stumped for how to convey it to you and has to fumble through a few tries to get it to make sense—or take a break and come back later, when he’s thought about it some more!

Paps (Underswap Papyrus): A little nervous and not entirely sure he’s the best person for the job, but heck, if you insist, he’ll do his best… He should be more confident in himself, though, he’s a pretty great teacher! He’s patient and thoughtful about how to approach different topics, and he’s definitely got a knack for making it make sense and relating his experience with magic to your perspective—you’ll probably be hearing a lot of unusual similes and analogies out of him, but they’re almost always coherent. And…he actually really likes being able to show you how it all works, it makes him feel a lot closer to you to be able to find a common understanding to bridge the species gap.

Jasper (Underfell Sans): Well… Honestly, he’s not a bad teacher, when he actually bothers to do it, but that’s the thing. You can say you want to learn from him and he won’t say no, but he’s not gonna take any initiative. He’s not giving lectures or sending you study materials or putting practice time on your calendar, you’ll be the one to have to come to him, with specific things you want his help with. Admittedly, he doesn’t think you learning magic is the best idea, but he won’t stand in your way if you want to take a crack at it, and if you want a little help from him here and there, sure, for you, as long as it’s nothing that’ll get you in too much trouble. (He’s not gonna teach you any red magic, don’t even ask.)

Pyre (Underfell Papyrus): You may live to regret this. He’s definitely on board with helping you learn and train your skill in magic—in fact, he’s a bit miffed you didn’t ask him sooner—but as far as teachers go, he’s…intense. He absolutely wants you to know how to use your magic, to the full extent of your capabilities, so you can be prepared to face any threat at your strongest! And in trying to facilitate this, he is very strict and insistent about regular practice and study to get you to your maximum potential, which is…not always a whole lot of fun. As far as he’s concerned, it’s not supposed to be, it’s meant to sharpen your skills and make you stronger, and if you’ve asked him to do that for you, that’s a responsibility he takes too seriously to let you slack off!

Mal (Swapfell Sans): Probably not a route you want to go down, in all honesty. He’s encouraging enough about the idea of you learning magic, be safe and take your time with it and all, but as far as learning specifically from him… Well, he’s not the best teacher, and he knows it. He’s a little too insistent and has a hard time being patient if something’s not clicking for you right away, and he’d rather you not have to deal with that from him. He can help you out with some basic concepts, and direct you to better resources—and once you’ve already got the gist of something, he’s available if you want someone to practice it with, but as far learning from him, it may be best to keep that to a minimum…

Rus (Swapfell Papyrus): Oh yeah, definitely, he can help! Maybe a little surprised you want to learn from him, but y’know, magic’s one of the few areas he’s both competent and confident in, so…sure. He’s a pretty good teacher, as far as that goes, very patient and willing to demonstrate and answer whatever questions you might come up with. Probably his biggest failing is not anticipating a need for context or…warnings, for unfamiliar things. He’s a ‘learn by doing’ kind of guy, so he tends toward practical lessons, just do it and then we’ll go from there. You’re almost guaranteed to be pulled into an Encounter before he explains what one is, or surprised with a blaster skull without being assured they’re just a construct first. Sorry for the heart attacks, he’s trying!

Slate (Horrortale Sans): Ah, he may not the best person for the job. He’s happy that you trust him and think he’s reliable enough to even ask, but he’s… His memory’s a little bit shot, and his thoughts tend to run on the slow side, which isn’t to say that he can’t help you at all, but he definitely shouldn’t be the one running this show. He’s just not gonna be able to keep on top on everything he’s told you and everything he hasn’t, making sure to follow up with you on things you asked about, remembering where you’re struggling and where you’re excelling, all that. If you want him to supplement your education by asking him some questions or with specific help here and there, that’s more than doable, he just doesn’t want to be in charge of it. As long as you or some other teacher is mostly doing the work and keeping pace, he won’t have to worry so much that he’s slowing you down or standing in your way!

Papy (Horrortale Papyrus): He won’t be prepared for you to ask, but he’ll be pleasantly surprised nonetheless! He’s eager to dive right into it with you whenever you’re ready, and he’s ready to put in as much effort as you want from him—he’ll definitely be expecting you to guide your own lessons and tell him what you want to learn, but he’s happy to take it from there and provide you with everything you need to succeed. He has nursing school in pretty recent memory, so he’s sympathetic to your situation as someone learning about something from another species that’s totally alien to you. He's always prepared to explain the little details that other monsters might gloss over since they’re just so second-nature. One thing about him is that every new thing you learn, no matter how small, comes with a reminder that you need to be responsible with this power, probably to the point that you’ll get sick of hearing it, but… he has to keep saying it, for his own peace of mind.

Ash (Undergloom Sans): It’s a little more than he’s probably up for…at least if you’re looking for a lot of demonstrations or someone to practice with. He’s got more magic than he has anything else, but that’s a low bar to clear with how little of the other stuff he tends to have—low energy, low strength, and low assistance for you… Still, that doesn’t mean he can’t take an interest, and there’s other ways he can help. He’s not half bad at talking you through how things are supposed to feel and how they’re definitely not supposed to feel, which is good for keeping you from overextending yourself before you’re ready, and if you show him something you’re having trouble with he’s good at feeling out the problem and giving you some pointers. At this, he’s a better a coach than a teacher, and coaches don’t play but they make pretty good cheerleaders on your journey to get stronger.

Yrus (Undergloom Papyrus): He’s all-in from day one, both honored and thrilled that you want him involved in your magical education. It’s probably verging on comical how totally invested he is, to the point of actually treating it like school—lesson plans, assigned readings, even quizzes and homework—but he really loves this stuff and he’s excited, it’s hard for him not to get carried away… As a teacher of magic, his strong point is more on the academic end of things, the theory stuff and what’s well-researched and understood. He’s a little weaker when it comes to the more finicky sides of magic based on emotion and more nebulous, less researched factors, but some of that is just the nature of the beast. Magic in and of itself is a tad nebulous and some amount of ‘We don’t know why’ just…has to be worked around. But he’ll make every effort with you!

Brick (Horrorfell Sans): He’s not really interested in the idea… If you want to learn magic, fine, more power to you, but he personally doesn’t want to be involved in it. Any way he looks at it, it feels like setting you both up for some frustration, trying to convey concepts largely unfamiliar to you through means only barely familiar to him, and there’s probably ways to get around it if you both work really hard at it, but… Yeah, he doesn’t really wanna. Feel free to show him whatever you’re learning if you’re excited about it, or if you wanna bitch about your teacher or something, but he’s gonna opt out of being that teacher. You’ll do fine without him, he’d probably only slow you down anyway if he’s being realistic.

King (Horrorfell Papyrus): You may not live to regret this (a joke [barely]). Though he’ll neither insist nor offer to teach you, he will if you ask, but not without warning you that you may not enjoy it. He’s not one to half-ass things, so if you want to learn from him, he’s going to make sure you do it properly, no cut corners, no skipped practice, and no missed study opportunities, there will be a schedule and he will hold you to it. Frankly, he teaches the same way that he puts patients through physical therapy—assertively and unbendingly, holding you to the high and exacting standard he’s set for you. Much like those patients of his, you’re likely to make a lot of very impressive progress very quickly, but you may not like him too much by the time he's done putting you through the ringer. Consider it carefully before deciding you want to do this.

Merc (Horrorswap Sans): Pleased to be asked, and certainly willing to do his best to help you, he’ll be a pretty good teacher, if a little overcautious. He wants you to be careful and safe above all, so there may be some times when you just want to try something to see how it goes, but he won’t want to let you, or you think you’ve got something down and want to move onwards and upwards to more advanced techniques but he thinks you need to practice the basics a little bit more first. His intentions are good, but he might stymie you a little and hold you back from progressing because of those good intentions, so be prepared to argue and reason with him if you have a different time-table. Aside from that, he’s patient and calm and very thorough with everything he does, so at least the quality of your education won’t be lacking!

Ell (Horrorswap Papyrus): Are you sure? Well, alright. He definitely doesn’t get why you want him to teach you when there’s gotta be a ton of better options, but he won’t argue about it much…and ultimately, he’s not bad at teaching. You may have to bug him a bit to get him to do it—he gets wrapped up in things he’s doing, liable to forget even if you had a standing appointment for it, so some amount of nudging and nagging and “You said we were going to X, Y, Z…” may be required to keep him a man of his word. That aside, he’s a little lecture-heavy maybe, has a tendency to run his mouth and take longer than is strictly necessary to explain a concept when he goes on little tangents in the middle before getting back to the point, but y’know… He gets there eventually, and he’s got enough magic and stamina to do demos and practice with you as much as you want.

Pitch (Horrorswapfell Sans): You might not get exactly what you’re hoping for from him. He’s not unwilling to try to teach you, certainly a lot more patient and easygoing than he used to be, but…that does come with its own drawbacks. He’s not the most disciplined these days, as a person or a tutor, and that means any training he can give you will probably be sporadic and not the most focused. There’ll be lots of veering off topic, getting distracted, taking breaks and not getting back to it for awhile, and broadly the sense that this isn’t a very high priority for him; that he's not taking it all that seriously. If you aren’t either, or if you are but don’t mind the cavalier attitude to his part in your studies, then no problem, but if you’re looking for a more stringent lesson plan…look elsewhere than him.

Nemo (Horrorswapfell Papyrus): Yes, of course he’ll teach you, that sounds like a good idea, you should know these things, if you’ve got the capacity for it. He moves a little slow, taking all the time you both need to feel comfortable and safe with every new hurdle, but he’s thorough and has a knack for being prepared for every question, worry, and mishap you can imagine. You’re in good hands with him for the most part, just…don’t expect him to teach you how to fight with it, because he won’t. He’ll do the basics, little tricks, even how to defend yourself, really everything but how to attack. He just takes FIGHTs too seriously for it to feel safe, for either of you, so if that’s something you really want, you’ll have to find someone else. He’ll cover the rest, just…not that.

Sunny (Gastertale Sans): Sounds fun, sure, he’ll do what he can! Admittedly, he’s not much for the purely academic approach, finding it to be a little dry and missing large swathes of important stuff that you can really only get by feeling and doing. He likes the socratic method, so you can expect him to be asking you a lot of questions while you learn, and gently nudging you towards making your own conclusions, feeling out how magic works for you and where you want to go with it next. He’s also pretty good at working practice and learning new techniques into casual games or fun, spontaneous challenges—can you do this? wanna bet i’m better at that than you? hey, check this out, you try—to the point you might not even realize how good you’ve gotten until much later. It’s not madness, but there’s a method to it if you let him see it through with you!

Aster (Gastertale Papyrus): Oh yes, please let him help you learn magic! This is a thrilling opportunity for both of you! …Which is to say, he’s maybe a tad too interested in this, getting to watch (and participate in!) a human learning magic, up close and personal. He’s going to want to know absolutely everything from your perspective as you start to pick things up—what it feels like to you, how you’re conceptualizing this, that, or the other, what’s easy and what’s difficult and why, and so on and so forth. If you don’t mind the probing questions, or are at least prepared to shut them down if they get to be too much for you, he’s a great help to you with tons of answers and reading material, and a nigh-unstoppable drive to problem-solve if you hit a wall at any point in the process. Just be prepared to rein him in as needed, if he happens to get too excited and forget you’re not a science project.

Spectr (Transcendtale Sans): He’s going to resist at first, having some mixed feelings about humans with magical affinities and abilities and debating with himself how much of a role he should be playing in this. Still…it is you, and that makes a big difference, so as long as you keep asking, you’ll wear him down in no time at all. Ultimately, it’s a good thing for both of you, for him because he’s actually pleased to have something meaningful he can pass along to you, and for you because he’s not a bad teacher at all. He is lacking a soul, which isn’t an insignificant part of magic, so there’s some things you’ll have to fumble with while he talks you through it as best he can by memory alone, but most everything else is easy for him to help you tackle, what with the combined magical power of nearly all monsterkind. You may not have had a lot of options for magic teachers, but of them, he’s a pretty good pick.

PapAIrus (Transcendtale Papyrus): Of course he’ll help you, you couldn’t have picked a better (or less humble) teacher! He’s extremely convenient for whatever your schedule is, since he doesn’t really sleep and is pretty much available 24/7 if you have a thought or a question or want to work something out. He also has a literally encyclopedic knowledge of pretty much any literature that’s ever been published about magic, from personal accounts and anecdotes to peer-reviewed studies, and if you don’t have the time or attention-span to do the reading yourself, he can pretty quickly condense it down to the key points in it. Still, as far as actually putting any of it into practice, you’re…kind of on your own. He doesn’t actually have magic of his own now that he’s digital, and though his memories are all technically intact, some of his sensory ones—especially ones for senses he doesn’t have anymore—haven’t transferred too well. He tends to falter and blank if you ask him to describe what certain magical things are meant to feel like, so…you’ll just have to muddle through that bit together as best as you can!

Xanth (Ascendswap Sans): Very willing and pleased as punch to help you learn magic, he can feel the potential in you and he’d love to be part of helping you realize it! Due to his nature and the way his mind works, he’s more inclined to focus on the soul and the ways in which it and your body and your thoughts act as a conduit for magical energy, working in tandem to direct that energy to do what you want it to do. His explanations of this abstract and ever-changing process, influenced by so many unknowable factors, tend to be hit or miss. Sometimes, the way he describes something to you lands perfectly and you know exactly what he’s talking about and how to make it happen for you with beautiful, precise clarity…and other times, you won’t get it at all and it’ll be complete gibberish to you until you go do some reading or get a second, less psychedelic opinion from someone else. Either way, he won’t take it personally, he’s only one guide along your path and just getting to walk it with you is a joy!

Piper (Ascendswap Papyrus): You want him to teach you magic? Well, that could be interesting, he’s not opposed… Before anything, he’ll ask you to swear that you’ll never use anything he teaches you against a monster, not unless your life is at stake—but as long you promise, and as long as he believes you, he’ll teach you everything he knows. He’s a fantastic help and consistently makes time to help you study and practice, with a good amount of breaks and downtime in between to keep from getting burnt out or frustrated. He’ll even take into account that you may get sick of him being your tutor all the time and loop in some friends to help out every now and again, getting you some other perspectives and maybe helping you network a little. It’s only a matter of time before you’re a magic-expert—he believes in you, and he’ll get you where you need to be.

Carmine (Underfell Fruition Sans): You might not guess it to look at him, but he’s actually a decently helpful sort of guy when he wants to put the work in—and for you, of course he will! This is a great excuse to burn off some of his excess magic, doing any and every demonstration you could possibly ask for and more. He’s probably not going to be much help with any book-learning you might want to do, very hands-on and ‘just do it’ in terms of his teaching style, but he can talk through things pretty well on the fly if you’re having trouble, and that helps plenty. He will, however, have a tendency to consistently and wildly overestimate your capacity of magic, due to how high his is. It’s just hard for him to wrap his head around how little you have, and actually retain that for next time… Just be prepared to remind him of your limits when you’re tired…or if he trusts you enough, maybe he’ll let you borrow his.

Tank (Underfell Fruition Papyrus): Ah. Well. He’s…not very good, with magic. And he doesn’t have all that much of it to work with either. His build favors physical power and durability over anything else, and so did his training, so he doesn’t really have much experience to share with you that isn’t related to brute-force attack capabilities. …But maybe that’s a good thing? Maybe that puts you both at a more similar level than if he was significantly more advanced than you, and maybe you can learn more together? He certainly wouldn’t mind showing you the things he does know, and you could be his permission reason to start studying the other less-military applications of magic, so that he can help you if you’re struggling. And of course, the reverse would be true, if he struggles. Yes, this could be very good!

Vi (Swapfell Fruition Sans): You want him to teach you magic? Fine, but he has a laundry list of stipulations you’ll have to agree to before he starts. He practically wants a nondisclosure agreement out of you, for you to not tell anyone that he’s training you or that you have magic capabilities at all. The latter is mostly because he thinks it’s more strategically sound on all levels for you to keep what you can do a secret so it remains a hidden advantage for you if needed, and the fewer who know you can do things not every human can do, the safer you probably are—typical black-ops mindset. The former…well, more of the same mindset, just the ‘cover your ass’ part of it so that he can claim no knowledge or involvement in you learning what you’ll know when he’s through. Aside from the probably-not-entirely-necessary secrecy he insists on, he’s a very straightforward and no-nonsense tutor, fully capable of meeting you wherever you’re at and guiding you to higher proficiency with everything you need to know and nothing you don’t. If nothing else, learning from him will be efficient.

Hunter (Swapfell Fruition Papyrus): He’ll give it a shot, but you might not get all of what you’re looking for. You’ve got the best chance of learning from him either while the novelty of teaching you magic is fresh, or if you find a way to incentivize him and make it worth his while to show you. He doesn’t have much of an attention span if he’s not interested in something for his own sake, and if he’s not interested, he’s liable to quit putting in extra effort as soon as it gets difficult. If you happen to not get something on the first try, he’s down to explain things once, maybe again if you press, but he doesn’t have a knack for re-framing so if what he said the first time didn’t make sense, eh… he doesn’t know what to tell you, just…try again, you’ll figure it out or you won’t, right? Bets, dares, and bribes all work pretty well at keeping him motivated, though—he can rarely resist a dangled carrot, and some kind of reward on the line makes him a lot more amenable to take on a challenge—so keep those tricks in your back-pocket if you’re really set on him being the one to teach you.

Kohl (Descendtale Sans): He’ll probably explicitly say no. He’s got some hangups about humans, especially the kind who dabble in magic, and even if it’s you—which he’s loath to admit makes a difference at all, but it does—even then, it still doesn’t make him comfortable with the idea of you having and using magic. Helping you develop it further and get even stronger with it, thinking about that makes him edgy and brings up some bad thoughts and memories. Still… if he can’t dissuade you and you start making a study of it anyway, he’ll probably end up getting involved and helping you a bit despite himself. He still doesn’t want to and doesn’t like it, but if you’re just gonna do it regardless, he’d at least feel better being in the loop and keeping an eye-socket on what you’re learning and what you might be inclined to do with it. A begrudging tutor to be sure, but he’ll keep you from blowing your own head off with supercharged magic at least. (Is that a thing that can happen? Oh no… well, maybe…sure, could be. Guess you shouldn’t play with it unsupervised, if you don’t know…)

Bram (Descendtale Papyrus): He’s more than thrilled that you asked, he’s delighted! This will be wonderful and he’ll be the best teacher ever, you won’t regret this! …Actual results may vary, but at least he’s enthusiastic. He’s very attentive to all the details of everything you want to learn and will discuss your goals with you at length before planning out how best to teach you all you could want or need to know. Which is a good thing, of course, but he can go in a little hard on it from time to time. He’s inclined to hand-hold you perhaps a little more than you actually need and may insist on continuing to explain something step-by-step even when you’re pretty sure you’ve got the gist already, or drag out a lesson or practice session longer than necessary even if you’re starting to get tired or frustrated. He just really enjoys being helpful, and having your attention, so he’s never eager to stop and lose it, and he may not realize without being explicitly told that you need a break to go eat or sleep or just do something else. Insist on the you-time that you need, though, and you’ll be fine!

[ryuichirou]

Do you have any headcanons for dynamics between Ortho and the other first years?

Sorry for the late reply, Anon! I really love it when Ortho is grouped with the first years, I am still so happy that he is officially a student now lol

Here are some thoughts…

Ace performs card tricks for Ortho. Well, he does it for everyone whenever he feels like it, but Ortho is always very excited for those; but he kind of sees them as puzzles, as if he has to figure out how the trick works. Ace thinks it’s weird… still, he likes having an invested audience, so he doesn’t really mind. Ace is also quite curious about Ortho, his search system, his relationship with Idia, his purity (does he have one), so he asks a lot of questions, but Ortho just says it’s a “se~cret” most of the times. Oh, and Ortho is extremely good at seeing through Ace’s tricks.

Ortho helps Deuce out with homework sometimes! And if they are in the same classroom for some reason, he’ll be happy to give him a hint or even a cheat sheet, although Deuce doesn’t really like those. Still, Ortho loves both being useful and having to be stealthy about this thing just so he doesn’t get yelled at by the teacher. This is such a fun experience to him… But also, he asked Deuce for help once too. He didn’t really need it, but he really enjoyed listening to Deuce’s poor explanation. They also talk about bikes a lot (with both Deuce and Epel).

Ortho is excited to get along with everyone, but Jack is still a bit confused about how he is supposed to feel about Ortho. He is pretty neutral about him, but Ortho was eager to find common ground with him, and it was jogging. Ortho doesn’t get to use his running gear a lot, so running with Jack is a great excuse to develop and upgrade the gear further + befriend Jack! They also talk about siblings, and it’s funny because while Jack talks about taking care of his younger siblings, Ortho talks about how he makes sure Idia doesn’t forget to eat…

Ortho hangs out with Epel quite regularly actually due to being so close to Vil and the Film Research club. Maybe it’s because of the fact that both of them are small and a bit childish, but he is the most playful and mischievous with Epel; he teases him, but they also have a lot of mutual “>:3c” moments. So sometimes Epel feels like he actually got himself a sibling, but then he blinks and suddenly Ortho acts like Vil’s perfect little assistant. Epel doesn’t get how he can do both, I guess it’s because he is an AI…. (not really, Epel)

Ortho and Sebek don’t really interact all that much, but Ortho is still as intrigued by him as by any other student. Finding common ground with him also turned out to be the most difficult…  but he did listen to his ode for Malleus once! He was very patient and stoic, and Sebek has enough of understanding of an AI to think that Ortho wouldn’t mind him talking for like 4 hours. He was very satisfied because Idia’s younger brother was a much more pleasant person to talk to! Even though Ortho didn’t really say much… but he learned a lot that day (Idia immediately told Ortho to delete all this data, it’s useless noise lol)

Whenever Grim can’t see something because of his height, Ortho grabs him and flies higher so both of them could watch that thing they couldn’t see… a couple of shorties.

They have gaming tournaments pretty much regularly! You know, with the gaming system they got as a gift for Yuu and Grim. And things gets bloody because the boys are competitive, and Ortho is one of the most competitive ones. He doesn’t care that he is a computer, the fact that no one can beat him is just skill issue lol