#(i just didn’t realize same gender crushes were a thing despite DEFINITELY HAVING THOSE)
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mikesbasementbeets · 2 years ago
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just here to say again that gay people can and very often do experience “crushes” on people of different genders, particularly when they’re young and don’t understand the difference between romantic and platonic love, and that doesn’t make them any less gay
stranger things has done a fucking phenomenal job of displaying this through mike wheeler, whose entire romantic arc has been about discovering what that difference is, specifically through his two major relationships, will and el. he mistakes the platonic feelings for romantic ones and the romantic feelings for platonic ones before (VERY gradually imo) realizing that he’s had them mixed up the entire time
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honeyed-nothings · 2 months ago
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To Have a Crush: Savanaclaw
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Warning(s): Gender-neutral reader, not proof-read, OOC
Notes: Procrastination hit me hard…also I did not expect to spend an hour finding decent enough emoticons for them. May just switch to regular bullet point style someday since I’m still trying to figure out what format I like(╥_╥). Never realized how hard it was to make a pretty format on tumblr until now. Also I’ve gotten pretty rusty too but my schedule has finally cleared up a bit so I’ll be able to be a little more active now!
Heartslabyul | Savanaclaw | Octavinelle | Scarabia | Pomefiore | Ignihyde | Diasomnia | Special
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Leona Kingscholar
𓄂 A crown of love that the king wears. A herbivore was all you were to him. Another nameless face in the faceless crowd of people who he couldn’t care less about in the grand scheme of things. That’s how it was supposed to stay…until it didn’t. The proud lion will never admit this (or at least not anytime soon) but that day where you, a weak and stupidly stubborn human, stood your ground among all the dust and debris was both one of the most frustrating experiences in his life and also the first time he ever thought of you as ‘strong’. Every so often he thinks back to that moment and sighs before pulling you towards him to lay on the grass.
𓄂 A king should always be accompanied by his retainers. However, he’s not king and you’re definitely not his retainer. Just a stubborn herbivore who happened to catch his eye, that’s all. You’re not that great as an errand runner either but it’s better than just one. A help that Ruggie greatly appreciates but occasionally complains about how you always take the lighter load. Don’t think much about it, he just doesn’t want you messin’ up or anythin’. Strangely, whenever you do run errands for him, there’s conviently always an extra that he gives to you. Reasoning to you that the King of Beasts would’ve done the same thing to those under his care. The proud lion knows this is a lie he can’t keep using to play off what he feels inside. Not when his own ears and tail betray him.
𓄂 Tch, well this is embarrassing.
𓄂 Maybe it was a good thing that Leona already knew. From the moment his tail unconsciously wrapped around you, he knew what his heart was telling him as it beat in his chest. There, with you and him napping underneath the shade of a tree, he realized he had fallen in love. He didn’t know whether he should’ve laughed or cursed the world so he chose to do neither instead. Gently brushing a stray leaf off that had fallen on your face, he chuckled. Guess something like love ain’t all that bad.
𓄂 A crownless lion who’s more hated than loved and a visitor from a place far from here. An interesting duo you two make as he pulls you yet again away from class to nap in the shade with him. His attempts at catching your heart aren’t too noticeable, only noticed by the keenest of eyes. He’ll never be the ideal partner, that he acknowledges despite his pride. But being sappy and overly romantic isn’t his style. That’s why, he’ll win your heart in his own way. A path perhaps not that of a king, but of a man in-love. The prideful lion may not bow his head to no one, but for you he’ll take a knee.
“Huh, well aren’t you gettin’ bolder? I didn’t think you’d beat me to it.”
Ruggie Bucchi
シ Hidden amidst the dirt and grime was love. It’s ingrained into Ruggie to look after people but he’s learnt to not let it be given without a price. Outside of his family and Leona, the latter of whom was more so to help his own skin, he didn’t exactly feel any desire or need to look after you. Sure he felt pity, after all you’re in a tighter spot than him in the world, but aside from that you were just an after thought. Nobody of note that could be beneficial to him in any way. That was until Leona overbloted and well…he’s somewhat grateful that you don’t have much of a survival instinct. You’re a real goody two-shoes aren’t you? Still, he’s thankful that you’re the way that you are. Hyenas never forget a debt and this one he owes to you alone.
シ It really just started off with it being to repay his debt to you. Sure it’s not much but he can’t really do anything fancy like paying you millions of madols or giving you land. That’s why, the hyena has chosen to pay it back his own way. Simple as it may be, it’s all he really has to offer. It’s not like watching your back is gonna cause him anymore work than he’s already got. Soon enough, he found himself doing more than what he intended to. Giving parts of his lunch to you, claiming he didn’t feel like it or there was extra. Stopping during his errands whenever he spotted you to have a quick chat before going off again with slightly more enthusiasm than before. Or heck, sparing you a few madols so you can get what you need. It’s kinda a loss but he just can’t seem to make himself stop. Not when you smile at him so brightly.
シ Wait a minute.
シ Nah…nahh he can’t seriously be in love with you or somethin’, right? Being close to you is just to pay off his debt, not cause he actually likes your company or anything, right?? But as his eyes catch his reflection on the window panes of the college, he can no longer deny the blush on his face or the rapid beating of his heart as the thought of you runs rampant in his mind once again. Well, guess there’s no point in fidgeting around anymore.
シ He’s not much, really he ain’t. Ruggie knows he won’t hold a candle to anyone else in the school in terms of magic or madol but what he does have is his smarts. In his own way, he’ll try and appeal to you. Sometimes he’s confident, other times he feels like he wants to die from how embarrassing it must’ve looked. Still, he tries and tries and tries. Hoping that maybe, just maybe, you’ll choose him buried underneath piles of trash.
“You-…you’re really choosing me?”
Jack Howl
ᴥ︎ Love that resounds throughout the night. A team up was all Jack figured it’d be. An agreement to right the wrongs and set things straight so that one day, once more, Savanaclaw would be able to say from the bottom of their hearts that they won. Nothing big enough to lead into the friendship that came to be between you and him. Well then things took a turn for the worse and then the better and well…he’s sure you get it. An accident, a friendship, a bond, whatever it is, the stubborn wolf has decided that he’ll have your back. No matter what and no matter where, he’ll help you out.
ᴥ︎ Respect was all it was. A respect towards a magicless human who proved their own strength by courageously standing in the face of death. Not everyone has a spirit like that and the wolf beastman couldn’t help but look at that and think ‘Ah, now that’s strength’. In doing so, he wanted to be respected by you too. That’s why, when he could, he’d wait outside Ramshackle and walk with you to your classes, carrying your books and providing an umbrella if it’s a rainy day. Need help on the homework? He won’t tell you the answers but he’ll help you figure it out at least. Like working out? Great! He’s more than willing to provide some tips and tricks to achieving the goal you want. Well it wasn’t until Ruggie teased him about how much more happy he seemed doing all that stuff for you that it finally clicked for him. This…isn’t good.
ᴥ︎ D-don’t misunderstand him!
ᴥ︎ Actually no, maybe you should— wait no you shouldn’t! Jack doesn’t know how to feel about…this now that he fully recognizes it. Well- he does, in a way, it’s just…complicated. To be honest, he did have a suspicion that his feelings of respect towards you had turned into something deeper. How fast his tail wagged whenever you were nearby, how he wanted to put even more effort into whatever he was doing when you were watching, how red his face turned whenever he took a ‘secret’ glance in your direction, it really was way too obvious looking back on it.
ᴥ︎ Wolf-type beastmen only have one partner for the rest of their lives. Dedicating themselves entirely to whoever their partner may be. Jack always dreamed of finding his one true partner, he just never expected it to happen so soon. Yes, a crush to him counts as his one true love as childish as it may be. With exactly zero romantic experience under his belt and only equipped with the knowledge of the multiple times his parents told him their love story, he attempts to appeal to you. Surprisingly, for a first timer in love, they’re all thought out and not embarrassing. Jack isn’t good at hiding how feels about you in front of you or anyone else, but it has a certain charm to it. The charm of an adolescent boy in love who cares for you quietly, unable to hide how he feels, as his heart and tail follow the same beat.
“..Phew, you’re here. Prefect, I—uh need to tell you something.”
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patchver-mel · 5 months ago
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Saw aromantic trending so I wanna rant share about my experience being aroace :D
It never really occurred to me as a kid that I was different when it came to romance and stuff. Whenever my friends talk about crushes, I often think about an entirely different topic cause I could never relate. It never interested me since I never felt it. People would have crushes on others in school, celebrities, or something else. But it never occurred to me that having no attraction wasn’t the norm since I always thought I’ll find the “right person” someday. I was just like “everyone gets a romantic partner eventually, why should I rush it?” Which is why I didn’t feel out of place for my lack of attraction. I was never rushed by my peers, but I was taught that love eventually happens.
Figuring out and accepting I was aroace was definitely a slow burn for me. I knew what the label was and I think I kinda identified with it but it felt like a label I tacked on cause I was always thinking in the back of my mind that I’ll like someone someday. Overtime, I realized that the present is what matters when identifying as something, and right now, I can confidently say I’ll never feel sexual and romantic attraction. I’ve come to accept that I’m aroace and I’m very proud to be.
Upon this realization though, I’ve seen how much this world and a lot of people in it values romance. So. Much. Amatonormativity. There were multiple times where I would hang out with a friend of a different gender and friends of that person would be like “oh wow u finally got a partner” or something. Like, we were just talking, which is something that, literally, everyone does. Sometimes I feel like everyone expects me to marry when I don’t want to. One time my sister was talking about her celebrity crush and my mom said “everyone has a celebrity crush” and when I replied with “I don’t,” she said “aww” like it was sad or something. And I don’t understand why?? It’s not a bad thing to not have a crush on a popular person. Also, I’m glad the internet lets me see other people are also aroace cause a lot of the time, I feel lonely. Literally all the people in my life have either had a crush and/or been in a relationship. I’m not sad I don’t feel that same attraction, but I would like someone in my real life to talk to about this, someone who’s able to understand the lack of feelings I have, someone who has the same ideas about amatonormativity. Yeah I’m good with being alone, but it can get lonely when it feels like I’m the only one who doesn’t feel romantic and sexual attraction in a 100 mile radius. I don’t got a desire to partner up in any kind of relationship, so I have to accept that I’m most likely not the first priority for anyone due to me not being their lover.
Despite those struggles, I’m still very glad to be aroace. It feels so nice to know that I can live a life that’s not pictured for me already. I don’t want a partner, I don’t want kids, I don’t want to marry, and other stuff. Anyone can do that, but I love not feeling crushes. I don’t hate romance or sex, but I don’t really care about it when it comes to real life. I never felt like I had to conform when it came to romantic relationships and I’m gonna keep doing that. If someone had a button that could give me romantic and sexual feelings, I would take the batteries out and shatter it into a million pieces, cause I’m damn glad to be aroace.
This thing turned out way longer than I expected and I know I’m a little late for aromantic visibility day but I just wanted to pour all this out. Thanks for reading all the way if u did and happy pride month y’all :>
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alrightberries · 4 years ago
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honey, honey (how you thrill me)
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request: i loved strawberries and cigarettes but levi just can’t catch a break :(( can we have a super fluffy modern au with boyfriend levi instead? thanks!
request: hi i’m new here and had read your fics. i love your take on levi’s character! Also that your writing is very great to read!😘 (tho that angst really made me cry HARD) if i may request umm... i want a levi x reader fic about them being like an old married couple but they’re not in a relationship ‘yet’ so like everyone ships them. Its a fluffy crack fic/ Reader is like “well you’re clean and I kinda lilke you so...” then levi be like “you’re tolerable and knows how to properly clean.” and then they really ended up married. It’s like the easiest transition from friends to lovers that one day they just said lets get married we act like it anyway whats new 😂. I want fluffs and laughs! Aot is angsty enough we need fluffs with our favorite characters!!
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❈ pairing: levi ackerman x reader
❈ genre: fluff, semi-crack.  ❈ word count: 4.6k
❈ summary: modern au. In which you and Levi are both professors at the same university, and are painfully unaware that all the students and other staff members have a bet that’s been going on for years now. What’s it about? When you’ll both finally confess to each other and just date already.
❈ trigger warnings: profanity. mentions of sex
a/n: made it gender neutral as per usual. this was really fun to write! makes me think about writing fluff more often (pffft sure)
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Trost University was home to many brilliant minds. It was a prestigious school with an acceptance rate of 600 out of 4000 yearly applicants, and producing the finest students; those of which would almost always graduate with high honors before starting a successful career of their choosing.
Its professors, undoubtedly, were of the finest quality as well. They were professional, extremely skilled, and highly trained. It was a workforce full of almost over qualified educators excelling in their respective fields, with master and PhD certificates framed on cubicle walls being the norm in the faculty room.
Erwin himself was proud to be a professor here. He started working as a high school teacher when he was still studying for his master’s degree, shifting from high school teachings to college teachings as years passed by, before eventually getting recognized and offered a job seven years ago by the prestigious school.
His friends— a loving and longterm couple who, as far as he knew, were high school sweethearts and still going strong today— had joined him on this journey as well. He’d known them since they were in college, all studying different fields but aiming for the same career of teaching.
The three of them shared a strong bond; a bond built on study groups, mutual dislike for crappy teachers, and a certain love for education. They were there for him, and he was there for them. He especially disliked it, however, when their relationship went through rough patches. He didn’t like picking sides, and listening to the same story being told from two different perspectives almost always made him want to grab Y/N and Levi’s heads and bash them together for how dumb they were acting.
But despite the differences and occasional fights, he wouldn’t hesitate to say that he trusted them with his life.
So Erwin, for the life of him, couldn’t figure out why he was just now finding out that the power couple he knew and loved wasn’t even a couple at all.
“So, wait.” He speaks, trying to be heard over the crowded cafeteria chatter. “You’re telling me... they’re not a longterm couple?”
“They’re not.” Moblit confirms easily. “Apparently, they’re not even dating.”
“Or so they claim.” Hange interjects. “Y/N and Levi have actual matching rings. Literally— I asked Levi about it once and he said Y/N was his fiancé.”
“But not romantically.” Moblit quickly adds on. “I was there too, he said not romantically.”
“Why would Levi propose to someone he’s not romantically interested in, huh?!” She counters back, a little louder than the brown haired man’s volume.
“I don’t know! Citizenship? Money? Sex—“
“They’re in love! You know they’re in love, you’re just denying it because you want to get in Y/N’s pants.” She huffs. “And because you’re about to lose the bet.”
Erwin’s eyebrows scrunch in confusion. “Bet? What bet?”
“Oh, you don’t know about the bet?” Hange asks. “It’s been going on for, like, five years now. The entire faculty’s in on it.” She begins to chow down on her soup, not offering more of an explanation. Moblit takes this as his cue to expand when he notices Erwin’s blank stare.
“Since you guys joined maybe... seven or so years ago? Everyone just assumed Y/N and Levi were a thing. Because of, y’know, the way they interact with each other. But then five years ago Hange and I asked them when their anniversary was so we could get them some wine, and both of them full on denied even being in a relationship.”
Hange nods, more than a spoonful of soup and a more than generous bite of bread in her mouth. “Yeah, but then I peaked at their faculty files—“
“Peaked at their faculty files?” Erwin murmurs, but he’s ignored.
“—and they have the same home address. They live together!”
“I can confirm that much, at least.” The blonde man answers thoughtfully. “They’ve been sharing a dorm since college but Y/N moved out at some point. They live together in Levi’s apartment now, though.”
“That doesn’t prove anything.” Says Moblit. “They could just be roommates and really good friends.”
“Well I’ll say!” Hange throws her hands in the air. “I caught Y/N sucking Levi’s dick at a party once. Must be one hell of a friendship they have, aye Moblit?”
Her elbow begins nudging the brunette beside her, and Erwin stares with amusement when Moblit starts getting irritated from the eccentric woman’s teasing.
“So what’s the wager?” Erwin asks.
The two professors stop their bickering and share an evil smile. Hange gestures for Erwin to come closer, as if she were about to tell him a secret, and he does just that.
“Whoever wins the bet gets a free meal from Shaw’s Bistro.”
Erwin’s eyes widen. Shaw’s Bistro; the classy high end restaurant with the fancy wine, fancier atmosphere, and the best Japanese Salted Salmon he’s ever had.
It was an expensive restaurant— even for someone with his salary. Erwin knew he could rarely ever eat there unless he wanted to run his bank account dry. And he concludes that this petty bet must be a Pretty Big Fucking Deal.
He squints his eyes. “I’m listening.”
Hange giggles as she continues. “Basically, you have to guess how long it’ll take for Y/N and Levi to finally admit they’re couple. But you can’t choose the same answer as other people in the bet, we can’t afford two winners. Literally.” She gestures to Moblit. “Unless you’re like dumb dumb over there who wagered they’ll never admit it because they’re not a couple—“
“They’re not!”
“—I’m sure you’ll do fine.”
Erwin nods his head, one hand on his chin in thought. He never did explicitly ask whether they were dating or not, he just assumed they were.
He carefully considers his options; be a snoop to his longterm friends and possibly break their trust for joining a foolish bet? Or Japanese Salted Salmon from Shaw’s Bistro?
Hange and Moblit look at him expectantly, smiling when he nods.
“Deal me in.”
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The cafeteria was noisy when you walked in.
Students mingled amongst themselves, chatting idly about academics and gossip. Cutlery scraped against each other as people took bites of their meals. Your eyes scanned the crowd, spotting your friends sitting around their usual table and having what seemed to be a heated discussion.
You turned to look at the man beside you. “Did you bring your own lunch today?”
Levi nods as he lifts up a small black bag. “Always do. But I’ll stand next to you in the lunch line so you don’t look like a loner.”
That was Levi Speak for I’ll wait for you.
You smile. “Thanks.”
The brief silence between you is broken when you start talking about your students— how proud you were that Armin was tutoring some of the struggling students in his free time, how terrible Jean was at hiding his crush on Mikasa, how terrible Mikasa was at hiding her crush on Eren (“I don’t even think she’s trying to hide it. At this point, I’m convinced that Eren is either dumb or dense.”)
Levi nods along to your tales, seemingly uninterested and bored. But anyone who knew him well would know he was listening intently as you spoke, every word heard loud and clear and processing in his mind as soon as they left your lips. Occasionally, he would pipe in with his own comments (“Eren’s just dumb.”) but he didn’t engage too much, opting to let you speak and rant on.
Your talkativeness never got on his nerves, contrary to popular belief. He liked listening to your stories, listening to your voice, and seeing the little glint in your eyes when you start talking passionately about your students. He overall just liked being around you. You were cleaner than most people he knew. You were tolerable. Sometimes a pain in the ass, but still tolerable.
But what does get on his nerves, however, is being ‘secretly’ watched by his friends.
Once he’s sure you’re not looking, he turns his head in the direction of their table, murderous glare prominent on his face. Hange, Moblit, and Erwin quickly snap their heads down and pretend to eat, but Levi knew they were definitely staring.
“Oh crap, I forgot my free meal card.” He hears you mumble beside him. He hadn’t even realized you were already standing in front of the counter.
“Figures. You have the memory of a gold fish.” Levi comments off-handedly. 
He hands the cashier his free meal card and grabs your tray for you, and you silently took the coat that Levi had swung over his arm to carry with you instead. You knew he’d hate for it to get dirtied by any accidental soup splashing.
“So, what’s happening on your end of the gossip?” You ask, both making your way to your usual table with friends.
Levi shrugs. “The brats are doing well on their thesis. Their grammar is shit though; makes you wonder how they graduated high school.”
You snicker. “You say that now but tomorrow pull an all-nighter to help them study and revise.”
“You’re not one talk. You scheduled two different consultations between classes and three more after your shift.”
“I can’t help it, okay?! You know I have a soft spot for the kids from the 104th.”
Of course he did. He knew of your affection for that specific group of students— admittedly, he held a twinge of affection for them too.
They were part of the first class you ever taught in your entire teaching career. At the time, you both worked at some crappy school in the 104th district. And to see the kids now, all grown up and studying at a prestigious college, it made your heart swell. And Levi’s heart... well, suffice to say it cracked some of the ice around it.
“That soft spot of yours is making you lose sleep.” He scolds. “I’ll take some of the consultations off your hands. The lil shits deserve a teacher who isn’t half asleep.”
Again, that was Levi Speak for Don’t overwork yourself, let me help.
You jokingly slap his arm. “That’s rude!”
“I know.”
Your conversation is interrupted when you finally arrived at the table, Levi setting down your tray in front of you and you handing him back his coat as you sat down next to each other.
“Hey.” You greet your friends, and Levi silently unpacks his lunch. “What were you guys talking about? It looked pretty intense.”
“Oh, nothing, nothing.” Hange waved off. “Just the usual. Grading papers, grading lab experiments, grading essays. The usual.”
You nod, unconvinced but letting it slide. “I see.”
The table is once again filled with laughter and conversations. Banter was thrown around here and there, mostly between you, Hange, and Moblit as you debated about films and TV shows. Levi and Erwin stuck to light chatter, but it didn’t go unnoticed to the shorter man when Erwin’s eyes squinted as Levi placed his arm around the back of your chair like he always did, or when Hange tried to hide her squeal when he wiped some excess soup from the corner of your lips.
Something was up.
It was about ten minutes into lunch when your phone began to ring, a notification from a reminder app you downloaded. You picked up your phone and sighed as you read your schedule.
“Gotta go. I have a meeting in a few.” You mutter, beginning to clean up your tray and utensils; you were a little disappointed. You didn’t even get to finish your soup.
Levi eyes you and the way you kept glancing back and forth between your soup and the clock. He sighs before he speaks, “I’ll take care of your dishes and buy you lunch later. Just go.”
“No, no, I can— fuck!” You yell when the bowl of soup is accidentally knocked over, spilling over your jacket.
Levi silently offers you his handkerchief to clean yourself up. He starts using napkins to clean the table as well, before taking the coat he brought and giving it to you.
“Use this for now.”
You smile at him once again, taking your coat off and slipping on his as you stood up. “Thanks.”
He doesn’t flinch (or react for that matter) when you kiss his cheek before you left, only letting out a small hum of acknowledgement as you waved goodbye to your friends and made your way to the meeting.
Once you were out of view, Hange’s smile immediately drops in favor of too serious eyes as she starts interrogating Levi.
“Okay, cut the crap, Ackerman. How long have you—“
“Hange, no, we’ve talked about this.” Erwin tries to reason but his pleas fall on deaf ears as she continues.
“How long have you and Y/N been dating?”
Ah. So that’s what it was about.
Levi sighs and continues to chew on his bread. He unenthusiastically stares at the woman yelling at him, swallowing his meal before speaking, “I’ve told you before and I’ll tell you again: we’re not.”
“Bullshit!” She yells. “You guys are a disgusting old married couple who have two adopted children—“
“Dogs.” Levi corrects boredly, but just like everyone else at the table, he’s ignored as Hange continues her tirade.
“—have matching sweaters, do small bullshit for each other like paying for meals and lending your coats. And for god’s sake, they literally just kissed your cheek even though you hate human contact.”
She finishes her rant but Levi looks unphased. God, she wanted to punch his dumb and oblivious face so bad.
“Those are normal things normal friends do. I’m not surprised you wouldn’t know, four-eyes.” Says Levi, but Hange is unaffected and already used to his abrasive words.
Levi continues. “We don’t do anything beyond what’s considered friendship.”
Hange squints her eyes in suspicion. “Didn’t Y/N move into your apartment?”
“Yeah. Their landlord was shit.”
“Where I caught you having sex?”
“We’re fuck buddies and you don’t know how to knock.”
“But you introduced them to your mom as your fiancé?”
“I lied so she would stop bugging me about getting married.”
“You literally have a shared bank account and a shared retirement fund!”
“It’s easier to keep track of.”
“Damn it, Levi!”
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Armin stares at the study guide in front of him, mind half processing the words and half... not. Quite frankly, he starts to wonder if the papers you’d given him were written in gibberish or some dead language no one spoke anymore.
You see him struggle to understand the sheet of paper in front of him, and sigh.
“Need a little help there, Armin?” You offer but he shakes his head. “I’m okay. I think I can understand this if I read through it more, it’s my friends I’m worried about.”
He glances beside him where the rest of his study group also stared the papers, each face painted with a unique mixture of confusion and dread.
You weren’t surprised, however. The readings for this module were quite complex, and the fact that your brightest students— Armin and Mikasa— were struggling with it made you feel a little bit hopeless for the rest of your class. Truth be told, even though you taught this topic countless of times, you weren’t entirely sure how to simplify it without leaving out too much information.
“Okay, how about this, we could—“ A soft knock interrupts your sentence, and you stare at the students in front of you to remember if you were expecting any more. It seemed like everyone was here, however, so you weren’t sure who was at the door.
“It’s me.” Came Levi’s voice, almost like he heard your inner monolgue.
“Come in!” You called out, focus shifting back to the paper in front of you as you heard the door open and close.
Okay, so I guess I could take this part and summarize it for them? Or would that still be too complicated? No, maybe I can—
“Ah, it’s that topic.” Levi mumurs, snapping you out of your thoughts. His face was directly next to yours as he stared intently at the papers you held. “No wonder you all look like you’re about to crap your pants.”
“Language, Levi. Not in front of the students.” You scold.
“They curse more than I do.”
“Still.”
He ignores your comment as he hands you a brown paper bag, pulling a chair out to sit next to you. He grabs the paper from your hands to look over the study guide you prepared, undoubtedly trying to figure out a way to simplify it as well.
“What’s this?” You ask, opening the paper bag.
“Bought you dinner.” He replies, eyes not leaving the paper in front of him. “I figured you’d forget again.”
As if on cue, your stomach suddenly starts feeling empty. It was impossible that you were hungry, though. You just had lunch. And after lunch you had some meetings to attend to, a couple classes, some last minute consultations, and— okay. Maybe it’d been a couple hours since lunch, but it couldn’t be that bad. A brief glance at the clock confirms that—
“Holy shit, it’s almost 8pm.”
“Language, Y/N. Not in front of the students.”
“Kiss my ass.”
“Gladly.”
The students in front of you let out a loud groan, faces over exaggeratedly contorted in disgust at your and Levi’s conversation.
Levi glimpses up at them and raises his eyebrow in question, while you jokingly roll your eyes.
“Alright, I think we should continue our consultation another time.” You said, beginning to pack up your teaching materials as the students did the same. “It’s getting late and curfew’s at 8pm. I’d better not see any of you outside the dorms.”
You knew you would though. It’s Friday night, there’s a bar across the street, and they’re teenagers. What could possibly go wrong?
You turn to Levi and hand him the keys. “You go ahead to the car, I’ll finish packing up.”
“It’s alright, I’ll wait for you in the hallway.” Levi takes the car keys as he stands up, walking out the door once again and leaving you alone with your students.
As you began to arrange your papers and clear the table, you start to remind them, “Okay, so we can discuss chapters—“
“Are you and Professor Ackerman dating?” Eren asks curiously, earning a shove from Jean and a silent threat to shut up, dumbass.
You chuckle. “No, Eren. We’re not.”
He gives you a doubtful look, one which you only return with a curious face.
“What’s with that look?” You ask, and he shrugs.
“You should date him— ow, what?!” He speaks, getting shoved by both Reiner and Jean this time before Mikasa pulls them off of him. You pause from your task.
“Okay, I’ll humor you. Why should I date him?”
The students share a look, daring each other to respond to your bold question. A few tense moments pass by and you smugly continue packing your papers. Yeah, you figured no one would—
“He’s nicer when he’s with you.” To your surprise, it was Mikasa who answers.
Unsure how to answer but still wanting to remain professional, you nod your head without looking up from your task. “Duly noted. Now go on, I know you have parties to attend to. I won’t hold you here much longer.”
The students laughed as they said their goodbyes; you held the door open for them until everyone was out before you left as well, shutting down the lights and locking the room once more.
A warm hand makes its way to the small of your back, and you smile.
“Hey.” Levi greets.
“Hey.” You repeat. “You read to go?”
“Yeah.”
“Wanna share my dinner when we get back home?”
“...yeah.”
He takes the stack of paper from your arms, his free hand reaching out for your own. You walked down the hallway in relative silence, interlocked hands swinging slightly from every step.
From the opposite corner of the hallway, the students’ prying eyes observe the small interaction; the two professors remained completely unaware that they were being watched.
“Told you they were a thing.” Ymir gloats, and the group snickers as Reiner irritatedly hands her some money.
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Something was wrong.
If there was one thing Erwin knew from the nearly two decade long friendship he shared with you and Levi, it was when something was wrong.
It didn’t go unnoticed to him when Levi didn’t open your side of the car door as he usually would when you arrived at the parking lot; when he made a beeline for his cubicle in the faculty instead of helping you get settled first; when you didn’t make a fresh pot of tea for him before classes started; when your small sweet gestures throughout the day were kept to a minimal; and most importantly, when neither you nor Levi wore your matching gold rings.
The faculty was nearly empty, save for himself, Hange, Moblit, and the two people who were having a lover’s quarrel. The entire day went by without seeing you two walk side by side like you usually would, and Erwin was pretty sure Levi’s permanent frown somehow got deeper.
Yeah. Something was horribly wrong.
“Pssst.” Erwin hears from the desk next to his. He turns around and is met with Hange and Moblit’s curious gazes.
“The hell happened to those two? Trouble in paradise?” Hange asks, eyeing Y/N and Levi’s grouchy faces and refusal to acknowledge each others’ existence as they each packed their things. She adds on, “Are they getting divorced?” Only to be reminded by Moblit that “They’re not dating.”
Erwin shrugs, answering Hange’s question. “No idea.”
Moblit chimes in, “I heard Petra tried asking Levi out yesterday and now Y/N is jealous.” 
She scoffs. “Y/N isn’t the jealous type. Besides, Petra’s part of the bet so that means she thinks they’re going to get together.”
“I’m part of the bet and I don’t think they’re going to get together.” Moblit points out. “And Petra stares at Levi the way Levi stares at Y/N.”
“Full of disdain and irritation?” Hange asks.
“No,” Erwin finally interjects. “Full of love and admiration.”
“Can the three of you creeps keep your mouths shut?” Hange, Erwin, and Moblit’s heads snapped to the direction of the voice, eyes meeting a pissed off Levi with a pissed off Y/N beside him. It seems like their hushed whispering wasn’t so hushed at all. 
“When you gossip about our private life the least you could do is wait until we’ve left the room.” You gritted.
“No, it wasn’t-” Hange tries to defend herself but is cut off by Levi, “We already heard you talking. Now out with it before I change my mind about letting this slide.”
The three guilty professors sigh, sharing a look before Erwin decides to come clean. “We’re concerned for you.” He starts. “You’ve been ignoring each other the entire day and whatever this fight is, it’s the worst one I’ve seen you have.”
You sigh. “Listen, it’s not that we don’t appreciate your concern, it’s just that-”
“-it’s just that it’s none of your goddamn business.” Levi interjects and you immediately glare at his rudeness. 
“Shut it, Levi. I don’t have time for your bull.”
“And I don’t have time for your petty lies.”
The three watched as you and Levi begin to quarrel, sharp words and irritated glares thrown around with each passing second. Your voices overlapped with each other as Erwin tried to make sense of what it was you were even fighting about, some words about betrayal in the highest degree and ruining a good thing and a relationship built on lies being the few words he understands. 
Finally, he has enough.
“Stop.” Erwin says loudly but firmly. The two of you pause from your bickering him and stare at him incredulously; he continues to speak, “We’re not teenagers anymore, we’re grown adults. I’m getting tired of playing mediator whenever you fight but if I have to do it again so you stop yelling, then I will.” 
He sighs. “Now what the hell are you two fighting about?”
“Y/N started it.” “Levi started it.” You say at the same time, and Erwin feels a headache coming but decides to ignore it.
“You didn’t answer my question.”
The two of you stare at each other angrily, almost daring the other to back down. This goes on for a few seconds before Levi finally sighs and speaks.
“Y/N thinks lemon scented detergent is better than lavender scented detergent.”
Hange and Moblit snicker but quickly shut up when Erwin gives them a look. He wasn’t even surprised that a fight as small and menial as this would be the fight that tears his favorite power couple apart.
“It is and you know it.” You reply defiantly and Levi groans in frustration, hand holding his head in disbelief as he quietly mutters, “I can’t believe I’m marrying someone who thinks lemon is better than lavender.”
At that, Hange’s ears perk up. “You’re getting married?!” She screams, and the two of you look at her in confusion, fight suddenly forgotten.
“Yeah, next week.” You reply wearily. “We emailed you the invites.”
If Erwin thought your bickering was loud, then the squeal that Hange let out was nothing short of deafening as she suddenly lunges at the couple, forcing them into a group hug as she cheers, “I knew it! I fucking knew it! You are together.”
Levi scoffs. “Don’t be silly, it’s for tax purposes. Apparently the bank won’t approve the loan for our new house unless we’re legally wed; something about tax fraud.”
“House?” Moblit echoes. “Don’t you already live together?”
You nod. “Yeah, but we figured the kids-”
“Dogs.” Levi corrects.
“-deserve a yard to run around in. Our apartment’s getting too cramped for the four of us.”
“Don’t ruin this for me!” Hange yells. “I have a wedding to plan.”
Levi sighs. “Don’t get ahead of yourself, four-eyes. There isn’t going to be a ceremony. We’re going to a court house to get our marriage license approved. That’s it.”
“And we invited you and Erwin to be our witnesses.” You explained. “There isn’t going to be a celebration but we’re going to host a small dinner party for close friends and family.We’d greatly appreciate it if you can RSVP to the emails within the week so we know how much food to prepare.”
The three professors nod, each exchanging pleasant smiles. It wasn’t the wedding invite they were hoping to receive but it was still a wedding invite nonetheless, and they weren’t about to burst your bubble.
“Hold on a second,” Erwin mutters, suddenly remembering one detail. “Where are your rings?” He gestures to your ringless hands.
“We had them engraved with our initials. Makes things more believable.” Levi answers. “If you’re done with the dumb questions, we’ll go ahead now.” 
He doesn’t wait for them to answer as he holds your hand in his, walking you out of the faculty room and into the hallway as he pretends not to notice his friends giggling like teenagers at the information you just shared.
“So...” You start, giving him a warm smile as you squeezed his hand. “Do you think they’re catching on?”
Levi lets out a rare smile, eyes softening as he looks at you. “No. They’re too dumb to know we’re actually together. They’ll eat up whatever bullshit explanation we come up with.”
“Okay, but remind me again why we have to keep pretending like we’re not actually together and not actually getting married next week?”
He brings your hand up to his lips, kissing your knuckles affectionately before placing his hand on the small of your back.
“Does it bother you that they don’t know?” He asks, and you hum as you think it through. “No. It’s actually really entertaining.” You laugh. “But why don’t you want them to know?”
He shrugs, pulling you closer to him. “That’s what they get for placing stupid bets.”
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nastyatticman · 3 years ago
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Our Little Secret (non con)
Fritz (Vicious Fun) x gn!Reader
I don’t think anyone’s written fanfic with the slashers from Vicious Fun yet? They’re the best part of the movie tbh. Anyway, shoutout to @nightmarewritingsfor introducing me to this movie and encouraging this fanfic!
You’re at dinner with your coworkers. Out of politeness, they invited Fritz, the guy who kind of... rubs everyone the wrong way. But you definitely don’t mind his company. You might have a little crush on him. Not that it matters, he’d never look at you the same way. But he certainly wouldn’t hurt anyone, right?
Tonight, you find out just how wrong you are.
Non con. 18+ ONLY
Reader is gender neutral, but specified to have a vulva and wear a skirt.
He clamps a hand over your mouth firmly, covering your wanton little noises. You couldn’t push him away if you tried. But do you want to, at this point?
You’re so close to another orgasm, so desperate for it you’re not even pretending not to enjoy this. Your hands slowly, hesitantly, travel to his waist, almost guiding him to fuck deeper into you. Fritz just gives you a little smirk.
You knew something was off about him, just not how deep it went, not that he knew you so well.
Was it as obvious as he said? Obvious that you were attracted to him, wanted his approval so badly?
Maybe that was a lie? After all, could you take it as his word if it was his justification for backing you against a wall in the back of the restaurant, hiking your skirt up, and fucking you despite your protests?
Well, you certainly weren’t protesting now. Even balancing on one leg, holding onto him to stay up… you couldn’t think of the last time you’d done something like this. Maybe in college, but none of those college boys could match the intensity with which your coworker was watching you now. 
You didn’t have time to wonder if he’d do this to anyone else before you went right over the edge - coming hard with him still inside you. 
Before, you’d get off alone, your cunt clenching on nothing. One time you thought about how it would feel to come and clench down on something, and your mind immediately wandered to him. It made you flustered in the moment, but all that you’d imagined could never prepare you for the real thing. He didn’t even slow down. He just kept watching you like a hawk the same way he always did when you were alone together, as if he wasn’t buried deep inside you.
After coming for… much longer than you expected, you slump in his arms, leaning your head against his chest. 
“No,” he says through gritted teeth. “I’m not done with you yet.”
He grabs your thighs and barely gives you a warning before he’s got you up, both legs wrapped around his waist as he continues his pace. You’re scared at first - he never struck you as particularly strong, but then again... He never struck you as the type of guy to corner you and fuck you into a puddle, either.
His thrusts get faster, his calm exterior even falters for a second, as he chases his pleasure. 
At first you’re content to enjoy him pounding away at the hot mess between your thighs, especially since the new position means he’s fucking you at a new angle. But you realize that, of course, he didn’t use any protection with you. Would he…?
You don’t have the time to wonder before he suddenly pulls your hips to his, close as he can, shoving you against the wall again. You feel him coming deep inside you, and even that feels good. 
Slowly, he pulls back, gently setting you on the floor. Your legs are shaking still, and he lets you hold onto him for support as he tucks himself back into his slacks, adjusts his glasses, and looks exactly the same as he did before he grabbed you and fucked you against a wall. There is no indication that he did anything, but you’re sure you look like a mess. He gives you time to make yourself more presentable before you try to go back - he grabs your arm to whisper in your ear one last time.
“You’ll go to the table first, then I’ll follow five minutes later,” he tells you. “And if you tell anyone what just happened…”
You swallow hard, shrinking back from his intense gaze. The threat is clear. 
He just gives you the slightest smile and lets you go back to join the dinner, as if your coworker didn’t just take advantage of you.
As much as you know you should do something about it… you can’t help but hope it happens again.
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thewistlingbadger · 3 years ago
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Mixed Signals
Summary: Emily and Spencer are trying to see if Derek likes Spencer. Derek is trying to figure out if he's gay with the help from Penelope. The 4 of them come to the realization that they are NOT on the same page at a club, where Emily and Spencer make out to see if Derek will get jealous.
CW: Platonic Spencer/Emily, friends who kiss, Derek has bi panic, gender non-conforming Spencer Reid, intimate friendship, inappropriate language, kiss in the rain, miscommunication, love confessions, first kiss. Y'all asked for me to post the stuff i got in my notes so here ya go. Enjoy.
Okay. So Emily and Spencer definitely came to the club with something up their sleeve. Spencer had always kept quiet about his crush on Derek. After all, the year was 2008. Gay marriage wasn't legal and if you were out you could be called slurs, or worse. And in the workplace? You could be terminated. The only person he ever came close to telling was Elle, but then one moment she was here, the next, gone.
Emily tried her best to be shocked at the news. It takes one to know one, she told herself. But nevertheless she made sure that he knew she was a safe space and that all she cared about was his comfort. He ranted to her about gender dysphoria and wanting to tap into his feminity, but being too afraid to do so. He asked her if she thought Derek liked him back, and tonight, they would find out.
Everyone knew Emily Prentiss was a lesbian. She made it no secret, while also making sure you minded your own business. She read queer romance novels on the jet, there was a pride flag on her desk and if you asked her what was on her calendar, she would tell you next Wednesday she had a meeting with her local LGBTQ+ advocates and that there would be a march next month, if you wanted to come.
In the same breath, she had no problem kissing Reid. They both knew that there was nothing romantic about the them. Kissing just...helped them both I guess. When Spencer would come over because he was having nightmares, Emily would scoot over in bed and make room for him. When she would get up around noon, Spencer would wrap his arms around her and kiss the side of her head as she brushed her teeth. Or when she could tell he was getting overwhelmed, she'd pepper his face with kisses till he'd be calm again.
Most people said I love you in words but for them, they had heard those words growing up from the mouths that did not mean it. Their kisses were tangible, real. They said I love, care, and respect you without even needing to pronounce a syllable.
Everyday, Derek came crying for help in Peneople's corner. He had never considered being anything but straight but his pretty boy got him second guessing himself. Derek didn't have the luxury of being able to figure himself out while young. And now that he was an adult, an established FBI agent, he feared it was too late. Penelope was his shoulder to cry on, filling his ears with positive affirmations. Giving him flyers to queer support groups and telling him when pride would be rolling into town.
"What if I don't like men and I just like pretty boy? Do I even like him like that? What if I'm just overthinking it?" "Well then you'll find out tonight." Peneople said with a wink. She ordered another round as Spencer and Emily found their way to the booth.
Derek tried to act normal but he couldn't help but notice how smug the both of them. Like they were inside a joke, and Derek wasn't. It made something rise in Derek, he just didn't know what.
Spencer still couldn't piece it all together. The looks, the touchs, the names, they had to mean something. Despite contrary belief, he wasn't all that oblivious. He knew Derek had been flirting with him for years. But why? Derek was always pulling girls whenever they went out to places like this and he never had shown interest in men. So why would he like Reid? Although, thought of Spencer being the only male that Derek was attracted to made his heart flutter, he knew it was unrealistic.
"Hey. Wanna dance?" Emily said putting her hand on his shoulder. He smiled. She always knew how to do that, pull him out of thought. As he got up he started to think about all the things he loved about her. Her gentleness without making him feel babied, her understanding without having the ability to understand what he was going through, the way she knew things about him that he didn't tell her that only he knew.
Like how he didn't need to drink to be a good time. As their bodies pressed together and they moved to the RNB beat, they laughed at each other. "Don't forget the task at hand Spence." She teased. "What task? The task of finding you a girlfriend? Because let me tell you, she won't come if your hair is looking like that!" He started to run his fingers through her hair which just made her laugh more.
Derek was watching them have fun while he was downing his drink. "What's wrong Derek, this is your scene! This is where Derek Morgan is Derek Morgan. And let me tell you, Derek Morgan? He does NOT sit at the booth like a sad puppy when the love of his life is out there dancing! Something that is a rare sight for our eyes!" He sighed, taking another sip from the glass, but he stayed glued to the leather seat.
"C'mon Derek! Do something! If you're not gonna go after Reid go after another dude! Or a gal! Scout out the area, look for someone who seems worth while! There's only one single friend out of the 4 of us and right now it's looking like it's gonna be me because Emily is having a grand old time with Reid."
Glad to know he wasn't going crazy, he responded. "Yeah, speaking of which, since when are they so close? Like you said, we barely get to see Reid dance. Then all of a sudden he's taking Prentiss's hand and they're grinding it up on the dancefloor?" He couldn't leave the irritation of his voice.
"Jealous much?" She wiggled her eyebrows. He rolled his eyes. "Don't you think it's weird?" Now it was her turn to roll her eyes. Of course not dummy! If you haven't figured out what Emily Prentiss was by now, you probably never will! Ignoring her thoughts, she asked "well what do you think it is?" He stared at the pair, trying to get get ahold of what it all meant but he turned away, empty handed.
"Did you see that? He was staring at us for a long time..." Spencer said looking over Emily's shoulder. "Do you think it's working?" "I don't know...he looked upset...he's drinking right now. Mil, I don't want to do this if he's drunk..." Emily could hear the doubt stirring in him. She didn't want to push him but she had the feeling that this would be the only chance. She wouldn't get Spencer to agree with her on this again.
"Hey." She tilted his chin down toward her. "It's your call." She smiled. God, you just gotta love her, he thought. He smiled and went for it.
"Hey, they moved away from the dance floor. Where'd they go?" Derek said sitting up straight searching over the crowd of clubbers. "I don't know..." Penelope now getting concerned. She stood up and-
"oh my god-" "What?! Are they hurt?! What's going o-" his search for them was interrupted by Penelope's hands clutching the sides of his face and directing it to the right side of the room, were he could see Emily and Spencer making out.
They both just stood there, jaws on the floor. "I thought she didn't swing that way..." Penelope said, shocked to her core. "Reid?" Morgan said, not as if he was calling for him but as if he was surprised that Emily was kissing Spencer. Or was Spencer kissing her? Unlike the last time he was staring at them, he was now paying attention to every detail. The way Emily's tight long sleeve shirt left nothing to the imagination and how she was pulling Reid in by the inside of his pants, then feeling him up after. She smirked mischievously into his lips, as if it were just a game.
Reid on the other hand, looked like he was about to cum on sight. He was still playing with he hair like how he was on the dancefloor, but this time his eyes were screwed tight. He barely moved his mouth meaning that A, Prentiss was doing all the work and B, when he did move his mouth it was in the smallest way possible and by god did he look amazing. Holy shit, did he just see some tongue?! Oh fuck, Derek thought, the realization hitting him like a truck. I like both of them.
He continued to watch them. Spence's hair was getting in his face and Emily was too busy teasing him by thumbing the hem of his sweater vest to notice. Derek could tell how much it was bothering him but he also seemed so carefree, so trapped in the moment, the sensations. He moved his head back ever so slightly, as if to ask for more but her mouth never left his.
When they parted, Derek could swear he saw a string of saliva in between them. Damn. This is not what I expected would happen tonight. He thought maybe he'd see a beautiful girl or a handsome dude, giving him an answer he'd been craving; Gifting him the knowledge he had wanted this whole time. But that? Whatever the fuck he just saw? Left him with more questions than answers.
"Derek? Are you okay?" He snapped out of it and looked at Peneople who had a worried expression on her face. That's when he realized that she hadn't been ogling at them the whole time like how he was. "Did that answer your questions?" She tried to approach in a different way. "I uhh." No words could form. "Oh, he's having a gay panic moment-" "No it was definitely for both of them." he blurted without being able to stop himself.
Penelope spit the shot out of her mouth. "You like them BOTH?" "No I-" He was completely out of his element. He started racking his brain, trying to process what he just saw. Why was that so hot? If he had a crush on Reid (like he thought he had the whole time) then wouldn't seeing his boy being kissed make him freak out? But somehow, seeing Spencer being man handled by Emily made him speachless. An "ohhhh" from Penelope was what broke him out of thought. "Well, congratulations Derek. I think you just might like guys and girls."
"Holy shit" they laughed hysterically. Spencer was about to fall to the floor. "What was that?" Emily laughed. "I was trying to make it look believable!" "Yeah by acting like a slut? Okay." She went off in a giggling fit. "Well I think it worked." "No shit?" She asked, looking to the booth. Both Derek and Penelope were standing up. "Well I'll be damned. I don't think I've ever seen him that red." she smiled "holy shit. I did that?" "Hell yeah you did! go get 'im lover boy." He hugged her and thanked her for her help, then made his way back to the booth. He got intercepted by peneople on the way there.
"So. What the fuck was that?" Peneople shouted over the music. "Go ask Emily! I'm going to Morgan." What? "oH!" The pieces somewhat clicking into place. "Oh my god how did I not know!" She gave him a hug. He gave an uncomfortable chuckle "thanks Penelope. But I really gotta go-" "But! He likes you too!" Penelope called after him but Spencer was already too far away to hear. God damn the level of miscommunication that's going on right now! Annoyed at the circumstances, she walked off to Prentiss.
Spencer slid the booth, "Hey." Spencer said. He shifted uncomfortably. A few seconds ago he was having the time of his laughing with a friend. Now he sat across from a different friend, a friend who he didn't want to be friends with. The person he wanted something more with looked down at the ground with a hand over his mouth.
Spencer frowned "what's wrong?" Reaching for the other's hand. Derek looked at him, doe eyed. "Boys." Was all he said. Huh? He had never seen Derek like this. "...Do you wanna dance?" He asked concerned. Derek nodded rapidly and they were off.
Whatever groove Spencer had while dancing with Emily had left because he was back to his normal stiffness. He wondered what was wrong with him but he couldn't decide what it was considering the amount of events that had just occurred. How do I make this less weird? What does he want? Spencer's thoughts reflected on his face.
Fuck. What's going on? Derek wondered. Sure, they were swaying and he had his hands on him, a big improvement on their relationship but he knew something was off about Spencer. So naturally, that's when Derek turned on his profiler mode and started pawing for answers.
"I was watching you earlier, you had some moves pretty boy. Didn't know that about you." There's a lot you don't know about me the genius thought. Instead he responded with "really?" "Yeah. I thought you didn't dance." "I'm not good at it." Spencer laughed. Derek couldn't resist rolling his eyes at the comments. You were practically fucking on the dancefloor talk about 'I'm not good at it.' Boy please. Spencer caught his eyes rolling though. Becoming defensive, he said "we were just being silly. It didn't mean anything." "That make out didn't look so silly. Looked pretty serious from where I was standing."
Spencer was taken aback. Was he mad at him? There was a hint of protectiveness but why would Derek be protective over him when he was with Emily? They've known Emily for a while now, they trust her.
Spencer didn't let him slide away with the snideness. "So what's your problem tonight. Had too many drinks and are now pissed you're not the only one who knows how to have fun?"
"I'm not drunk." Derek grumbled. "Oh really? Derek we've been here 2 hours now and the whole time all you've done is sit down with Penny and drink drinks. And all of a sudden you're acting all strange? How do you explain that hm?" Derek looked away realizing his error, licking his lips.
You're gonna profile me? Two can play it that way. "It's the fact that it's Prentiss huh. Do you like her?" Derek still couldn't meet his eyes. "Or did you just think I couldn't get her?" Spencer wasn't one who got easily mad but the bullshit Derek was pulling was infuriating. Do I just let the cat out of the bag or do I see how he plays it out?There's too many mixed signals going on.
Spencer scoffed annoyingly, letting go of Derek and storming off. "Kid wait!" God damn it Derek this is the one thing you're not supposed to fuck up. Emily stood up from the table that she was at with Penelope. "What's going on?" "I don't know!" They both watched Spencer leave. "Oh no..." "What the f-...he likes him Emily I swear! It's all he's been talking to me about for months! I really don't know what's going on!" Emily tried to make her way through the crowd but Derek was already out the door, trying to reach Spencer.
This is just fucking great. I go out to a club, a place that I already don't like just to try to make a move on some dude, some asshole, and now it's raining. Could it seriously get worse? "Spencer, c'mon man!" Derek heard him curse in a language he didn't understand. "I don't have time for bullshit Derek! Don't waste my time!" He kept walking back towards him.
Derek caught up to him, his feet splashing into puddles. "Look man, I'm sorry. Just let me explain!" Spencer didn't even look at him, he just kept walking. As a final attempt, Derek grabbed his hand, Spencer now facing him. "I'm not trying to waste your time pretty boy. Or bullshit you." The rain drops sliding down both their faces. Despite there being no light other the moon, they looked into each other's eyes. Derek didn't have a firm grip on Spencer's hand, but Spencer didn't feel the need to let go.
"You should start explaining yourself because I don't like dealing with nonsense." His chest rising and falling with every deep breath he took. "For the past couple of months I thought I was seeing you differently so I talked to Peneople about it. She suggested we go to the club to see if I liked you or if I only liked girls or maybe even if I liked men in general. When I saw you and Emily kissing, I- I can't explain it. I liked it. I liked watching you two kiss but then you came over to me and I started feeling jealous and I don't know what's going on with me-" "shut up." Spencer grabbed Derek by the collar of his wet shirt and their mouths smashed together.
It wasn't a pretty sight. It wasn't delicate like how most people want their first kisses to be. But it reflected every emotion that the both of them had felt that night. The rain helping their mouths slide together, the small droplets getting smushed when their checks or chins touched. Derek thought that getting kissed by Spencer looked good but oh man did it feel better to actually be kissed by him. Derek slid his fingers through his hair, imitating Spencer when he kissed Prentiss. The water droplets clinging to the ends of his finger tips. Their bodies closer than Reid's and Emily's ever were.
Spencer pulled away, resting his forehead on Derek's. They both felt the breath of the other, the rapid in and outs trying to get back to their normal speed's. Spencer still had his fingers on Derek's collar, still keeping him close. "Please tell me that that cleared up some stuff for you." Spencer breathed.
"We could be that. Friends who kiss but not romantically." Derek offered. All he knew was that he would die a sad man if that was the only time he'd get to kiss Reid. "If we kiss, I'd like it to be in a romantic way. I didn't spend countless hours watching you go home with countless women to not have you kiss me in a romantic way Derek." Derek laughed at his bluntness. "Alright kid. Good. Because I wouldn't have it any other way." He went in for another kiss, and Spencer happily kissed him back.
"I think it did." Derek panted back. Spencer moved his arms around Derek's neck, pulling him into a hug. "I've had a huge crush on you for forever. I didn't say anything because I didn't think you were gay. Emily and I only kissed like that to see what your reaction would be. I don't like her, she doesn't like me. We're just friends. There's no romance behind it." He explained, still hugging him.
By: Mic
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novoaa1writes · 4 years ago
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honest
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pairing(s): daisy johnson x nb!reader, melinda may & nb!reader (familial)
summary:
coming out is never easy—even when you’ve got reliable people in corner.
contains: angst & fluff with happy ending
(also available on ao3.)
word count: ~2,000
rating: teen
warnings: sparring, self-doubt; anxiety (not chronic); muscle pains, bruises, and aches (from exertion); mild language; coming out; discussions of gender and sexuality
notes: 
in my head, this is staged at the playground somewhere in season 2-3ish of marvel’s agents of S.H.I.E.L.D.
— —
disclaimer: this is in no way reflective of the experiences of all non-binary individuals everywhere. as someone who’s recently had the realization that i am Not Woman and Not Man and has been subsequently made to have some rather difficult conversations with those closest to me about changing up pronouns, this is simply based off of my own experience and struggles with my gender / sexuality. it’s a uniquely personal thing to come to terms with, and it’s different for everyone.
feel free to message me if you’d like to talk about it!
— —
You let out a long, slow breath, eyeing yourself critically in the bathroom mirror. 
Nervous eyes, shower-damp skin, lower lip swollen and puffy from biting it relentlessly—an obtrusive testament to the overwhelming abundance of unease ballooning in your chest.
Yeah. Seems about right. 
“C’mon, Y/N,” you grumble, taking great care to pitch your voice well below the hum of the fan overhead. “It’s fine. You’re fine.”
The more insistent you become, the less you believe it. 
“It’s just Daisy,” you continue, silently willing yourself to remain undeterred by the crushing doubt that gnaws away at your insides. “She’ll understand.” 
... But will she?
You frown at your reflection, skin prickling with frustration. “And if she doesn’t…” you trail off, hating the quiver in your voice for betraying your weakness. “If she doesn’t, then you shouldn’t be with her anyways.” Your voice comes out stronger this time, even if the words themselves are enough to scare you shitless. 
You like Daisy. Could grow to love her, even. 
Being with her… it’s made you the happiest you’ve ever been in your entire life, and damn it all, but you mean that. 
“She’s going to understand,” you say aloud. “She will.”
God, you pray that that’s true. 
— —
7:00am sees you getting your ass thrown violently all across the mats by an ever-indomitable Melinda May, racking up bruises and scratches and aches like no one’s business. 
By the time 9:00am hits, you’re a wheezing mess, sprawled spread-eagled atop the sparring mats—lungs on fire, chest heaving for breath; sweat-drenched skin littered with technicolored bruising.
In short, it’s hellish. 
“C’mon,” May urges, tone curt and even. She looms imposingly down upon you from above, a decidedly unamused expression gracing her elegant features—and, get this: not a single hair out of place, nor a hint of labored breathing. 
You groan and squint up at her, searching for—
A-ha!
There, just above one immaculately-manicured brow and, like, two millimeters beneath her hairline—a tiny little droplet of perspiration. As you watch, it seems to absorb itself into her flawless skin—disappearing before your eyes like it was never even there. 
“You’ve gotta be kidding me,” you grumble. 
May just raises a single brow, offering you a hand up. “Up.”
You frown at her but don’t push your luck; rather, you accept the proffered hand and allow her to pull you to your feet. Your arms and legs and abdominal muscles all scream in protest as you lurch upright into a flat-footed stance, but you grit your teeth and bear it. 
Training with May—torturous (and often humiliating) as it may be—is voluntary. Something you chose, and continue to choose even despite the unadulterated hell it puts your body through with every swift kick and bone-jarring punch.
Not only that, you’re lucky to study opposite someone as fearless, skilled, and fucking terrifying as Melinda May. 
Even when your limbs are all ache-y and sore and burning with a pain beyond your years, you know that. 
Still… 
You probably could’ve done without this today. After all, getting your ass kicked for a solid two hours all across the mats doesn’t exactly inspire confidence. And, considering the conversation you plan to have with Daisy this afternoon, you’re gonna need to muster up all the confidence you can get. 
— —
“Spit it out,” May prompts, sidling up to match you stride for stride as you take a couple cool-down laps around the miniature track (¼ the size of a regulation model)... walking, that is. Not jogging. 
Honestly, you think that if you even tried jogging right now, you’d pass out. 
You spare her a sidelong glance as the two of you round the bend, perfectly in sync. “What?” 
May purses her lips, giving you a look. “You were sloppy today,” she remarks pointedly. “Distracted.” 
Her stare seems to burn holes through the side of your head. 
“Wow, thanks,” you mumble. The sardonic quip tastes funny coming off your tongue.
“You were off today,” May reiterates, sidestepping your wisecrack entirely. Her footsteps are soundless even as the soles of your beat-up Air Force Ones slap the tread audibly with every stride. “That doesn’t happen often.”
“Sure it does.” You shrug. “You kicked my ass today, same as always. If you ask me—” You hesitate briefly at the look on May’s face, which is plainly screaming ‘I didn’t’ “—today’s been anything but out of the ordinary.” 
“You’re a terrible liar,” May remarks without missing a beat. It’s like she didn’t even hear you (which you damn well know that she did). 
Still, you don’t do her the disservice of arguing the point any further. 
You walk another ten paces in perfect silence—no, twelve. You know because you count each one. 
Unsurprisingly, you’re first to break the immersive quiet. “I think I want to tell Daisy.”
May’s impartial expression doesn’t change. “About?”
You almost roll your eyes, but manage to curb the impulse at the very last second. “You know what about.”
Hell, May was the first person you told. You came to her quarters hyperventilating in the dead of night, tears streaming down both cheeks and a sense of such deep-seated discomfort swelling in your chest, your ribs positively ached with the force of it.
“I want to hear you say it.”
You bite your lower lip, apprehension gnawing at your insides. “About…” You trail off, internally scolding yourself. This shouldn’t be so fucking hard. “About me being… non-binary.” 
Non-binary. 
What a flimsy little term. So matter-of-fact… almost scientific in nature. And yet, the way it affects you is nothing short of visceral—all-encompassing and monstrous, compressing your very lungs in an iron-clad vice until it’s agony to draw breath. 
It hurts, it hurts, it hurts ; voicing this simple reality that’s plagued you since you were very small, looming malignantly in the margins of everything you do… and yet, the truth of it rings keen and strong in your ears—clear as a bell.  
It’s liberating and frightful all in one; a grating juxtaposition, to be clear.
“Yes.” The sound of May’s uncharacteristically gentle intonation cuts clean through the blaring noise in your head, yanking you out from a sea of inner turmoil with startling decision. “I’m proud of you.”
Her words—gently-spoken as they may be—hit you like consecutive sucker punches to the gut. “What?” you choke, forcing out a breathless chuckle. 
May—predictably—is staunch, unyielding… wholly undeterred. “You’re being true to yourself,” she insists, matching you step for step as you start in on lap two. Your chest burns something awful and your legs aren’t much better, but you pay it little mind. “That’s no small thing.”
“It’s terrifying,” you tell her. As far as you’re concerned, that’s something of an understatement.
She nods. “It often is.”
“What if… What if I tell her and she doesn’t like me anymore?”
May raises a single brow. “Daisy, a known bisexual who has stated on more than one occasion that the gender binary is ‘stupid’ and ‘exclusionary’? Daisy, who’s been on dates with more than one openly non-binary person in the past?”
“Well, when you put it like that…” 
May—bless her heart—doesn’t snort or sigh or roll her eyes, but you can tell it’s not for lack of wanting. Instead, she merely slants you a pointed look that says, ‘Exactly.’
You walk the next six strides in silence, your feet aching in your shoes.  
“I’m going to tell her,” you say eventually, a tinge of cautious certainty creeping into your tone. You don’t know who you’re trying to convince—yourself, or May. 
All the same, May is nothing if not steady and dependable amidst stormy seas; she always knows just what to say. (Or, what not to say, as it were.) 
There are no tears, no hugs, no flowery platitudes… nothing but a sharp nod of approval and the barest hint of a grin curving her lips, like she sees you for who you are and she approves—like she’s proud, even. You don’t know how else to translate the tender mercy in her eyes, the way it seems to warm you from the inside out. 
Yeah, you can tell Daisy. 
You’re going to tell Daisy. 
And May’s gonna be right there beside you the whole time.
— —
In retrospect, you definitely could’ve gone about this better. 
Like, you weren’t exactly going for the kind of heartfelt reconciliation you’d see in some coming-of-age sap-fest movie on the big screen; and it’s not as though there’s an exact script to follow for all this, but… 
Pulling away from a decidedly heated kiss to blurt out, “I’m not a woman”—and doing so while you’re half-naked and straddling the lap of a similarly scantily-clad Daisy in bed, no less—definitely hadn’t been your first choice. 
Judging by the expression on Daisy’s pretty features—which is caught somewhere between taken aback and genuinely concerned—she’s coming to the same conclusion.  
To her credit, though, she recovers quickly—though the crease between her brows (a testament to her lingering bewilderment) remains. “What?”
You swallow thickly, carding your fingers through her tousled hair—a nervous habit of yours you’d developed as of late. “I’m…” You sigh, apprehension building in your chest. “I’m not a woman.”
Daisy’s brows raise marginally even as she offers a shallow nod, wide attentive eyes steadfastly holding yours. “Okay…” she begins gently, rubbing circles into the bare skin above your left hipbone with a callused thumb—a subtle nudge for you to continue. 
“I just—I don’t feel like a woman,” you say, and this time it’s easier, even if the sheer measure of honesty in that statement is enough to make your stomach turn. “And I don’t feel like a man, either.”
Understanding flares in Daisy’s pretty brown eyes. “Okay,” she says again. “So, you’re not a woman…” She pauses, dipping her head to place a feather-light kiss upon your shoulder. “And you’re not a man,” she continues, lifting her jaw to study you face-to-face, the tip of her pert nose brushing up against your own. “Which means… ?”
“I’m, um,” you squirm a bit, shifting atop her bare thighs, “... non-binary.” Your cheeks are hot, burning with shame, and you have never been so grateful that your skin is tawny enough to conceal it. 
Daisy doesn’t blink. “Okay,” she replies, then leans forth to place a barely-there peck atop your lips. 
You frown down at her, lips tingling. “‘Okay’?” you repeat.  
Daisy grins, leaning in for another kiss—and you’re all too quick to indulge her even as your thoughts spin and disbelief wars violently with consternation within your chest. 
Her lips are soft and warm against your own; when her tongue flits out to trace your lips, you’re parting them in an instant to meet her halfway; the sensation of kissing her is nothing short of euphoric, and you surrender willfully unto it like leaves in the brisk autumn wind. 
Seconds pass, or maybe it’s minutes, but she’s catching your lower lip between her teeth and you’re sucking on the tip of her tongue and— 
Quite suddenly, the kiss has become nothing short of filthy—all open-mouthed and desperate and bruising just how you like, and damn it all, but you can finish the rest of the conversation another time.
For now… well. You’re preoccupied with other things.  
— — 
(Later that night, when you’re both laid up in bed and drifting off to sleep, Daisy asks if you’d like her to start referring to you as ‘they’ and ‘them’ rather than ‘she’ and ‘her.’
When you answer in the affirmative, telling her that nothing would make you happier, the sheer measure of honesty in your words doesn’t feel nearly as nauseating as it did before. 
In fact, it’s rather the opposite.
The way Daisy reacts—a murmured, “Okay”; a feather-light kiss upon your forehead; two strong arms pulling you closer in the dark… well. That’s just icing on the cake. 
Despite everything—the self-doubt, the second guessing, the aching soreness settling into the very marrow of your bones—you feel yourself break out into a broad grin beneath the pitch-dark cover of night.
You feel good; comfortable in your own skin. You feel… happy.)
— —
end notes: i want melinda may to be my friend.
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bombyxluna · 4 years ago
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Omega Mammon X GN!Human MC 
This is more of an intro to the series, which is why is a lil bit longer and more explanatory.
We’re here to break sub gender norms! 
I don’t know how many parts this will have but I want it to be angsty.
No NSFW yet :P
CW: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Talks of heats/ruts/sub genders
The Devildom is, for a lack of a more fitting word, strange. Though, you suppose, being surrounded by demons should be. 
There’s too much you don’t understand still. Three months have passed since you arrived - or were kidnapped? the jury is still out on this one - and it feels like an eternity of time and too little all the same. 
Demons, as it turns out, have very different customs and rituals from humans. So do angels. You are in the least thankful for the classes, but every other student in them seems well versed in the basics, while you float about unsure of what’s happening. Hell, even Luke knows more than you, and he hates demons. Not to mention he’s a child. Double low blow. 
The classes would be going a little bit better if you only had time to actually study for them. Though you do suspect that Diavolo doesn’t actually give a shit about grades and this entire school is a mockery to appease his peaceful plans, you're still stuck in what’s basically hell and having to go to what’s basically hell’s undergrad school. Great. 
The least you can do is prod around for some demon knowledge. You know, just in case. Because things are getting weirder by the day, and sometimes it feels like it’s all an ongoing inside joke you’re not really a part of.
Also, because of them. 
Living with demons wasn’t exactly unexpected, but living with the Seven Rulers of Hell - well, six of them, was. 
Despite initial impressions, you’re quickly figuring out there’s more to each of them than the public eye could see. Something lurking below their perfectly crafted personas, that is reserved only for the ones in close proximity to them. Only for family.
You’re not family, but you’re definitely in close proximity. 
It’s easy to tell how much they hide behind masks. Lucifer, as far as everyone else knows, it’s the always serious and stern big brother that will never crack a joke or play around. The entire foundation of that statement could be torn down with one single picture you had, of him playing with Cerberus. 
Leviathan, despite actively trying to kill you over a book series since - no, you’re not over it - is more than the shut-off otaku who is otherwise known as the Admiral of the Devildom’s marine. He is also clumsy and shy, and he goes on tangents about what he likes, and he is friendly. 
Satan, known as the hot-headed brother who has a tendency to overwork himself into humor changes and explosive arguments, is a reserved person, a cat lover, an erotica reader, and an absolute dork. 
Beelzebub, though he whines about food a lot, is far more than just the hungry brother who also happens to be a jock. He’s a carebear, a very attentive listener, has great movie recommendations, and an amazing cook. 
Asmodeus, who may look lust-driven and shallow to the onlooker, but is caring, a hopeless romantic, a good friend and brother, and even a little insecure. 
And then there’s Mammon.
At first, you didn’t know what to think of him. He acted high and mighty, too strung up in his high horse to look at a human such as yourself. When Lucifer put him in what was basically the task to babysit you, it’s safe to say you were annoyed. 
But then, you started to pick up on things. Small things. Unnoticeable to those who aren’t looking, but that become increasingly clearer once you realize them. 
He’s clingy. With his brothers, with you, even with his credit card. Though he never lets himself linger, when he hugs you, it’s tight and crushing, like he needs to be as close to you as possible. When your arms brush together as you walk about, he blushes. 
His brothers tease him. A lot. To the point, it’s painful to even to you sometimes. He laughs through it all, but you can see the drooping at the corners of his mouth, and how the giggles don’t reach his eyes.
And he’s scared. At least, that’s what it seems like to you. He puts up a front of being this big, angry, scary, and powerful demon such as his brothers, and though you certainly don’t doubt the powerful part, the angry and scary seem faulty. 
It’s intriguing. One day he’ll be all over you and the next he’ll act like he barely knows you, avoiding your eyes and only answering in curt answers. Sometimes his PDA is off the charts - he’ll throw arms around you, stick close, pull you closer when you’re walking together - and others he acts as the smallest of touches burns him like it pains him to be so much as near you. 
And there is that smell. It lingers on him but not on his brothers, like a perfume stronger than anything else. It doesn’t make any sense, though, because you’re pretty sure it’s not perfume. You’ve seen him spray himself before leaving in the mornings and it’s not the same smell. It’s something else, a light waft that emanates from him in waves, but no one else seems to pick up on. 
He’s a puzzle that refuses to fall in place, and all you want to do is figure him out. 
Solomon sits down in front of you with a loud gruff, dropping a small pile of stacked books on top of the wooden table in the library. The librarian shushes him when the sound echoes through the empty halls. Asmodeus hot on his trail, carrying nothing but a bag. He sits down as well, eyes all but sparkling.
“MC!” He sings. The librarian shushes him. 
“Hi, Asmo,” you make space on the table, putting your bag on the chair next to you.
“Ready to cram years of demon biology in one afternoon?” Solomon asks. He smiles wickedly as if he thinks it’s actually possible to do so, and you feel a little bit like a prey caged in by a much, much more astute predator.
You asked for help with the subjects, and maybe you’re already regretting it a little. “Sure,” you answer, trying to sound determined. 
He smiles. “What are you seeing in your class?” 
Solomon picked different classes for the year, and while you were fine with not doing whatever the hell goes on in advanced alchemy, it’s a little bit of a bummer to not share even one class with the only other human around. 
“I’m not… really sure,” you slouch on the seat, ready to give up. Why can’t the world be like the movies and you can spend an entire year just looking out the windows and being pretty? “Subgroups? Or sub genders?” 
“Oh,” he says softly, flipping through one of the heavier looking books. 
Next to him, Asmodeus is pulling out a notebook filled with post-its and notes made in glitter pens. You suspect he didn’t come to lecture you, and that suspicion is confirmed when the notebook is discarded as soon as it showed up, apparently being pulled out only because his bag was on the smaller side and his pink switch-like video game was at the bottom of it. He sighs dramatically, lowering the music coming from it, and laying his chin on Solomon’s shoulder.
Yeah, definitely not here for you. 
Solomon slides the open book towards you, marked on a page titled Subgenders then starts flipping through the next. 
Asmodeus watches as you read over the basic introduction. 
“It’s not hard,” he says, voice bubbly even though the words game over can be read on his screen, “It’s a little tricky to separate, but you get the hand really quickly.”
-
It’s not actually all that hard to figure things out. Solomon, despite the borderline chaotic ways he chooses to explain things, is a fairly good teacher. You manage to grasp the three sub genders and the differences between them in no more than a couple hours - a record if you’re being honest. 
And Solomon had been right. It’s not hard to separate them. Alphas are, generally speaking, the “dominant” gender. They’re easier to anger and natural born fighters. They experience ruts, can mate, and have knots. Most of the royal court are alphas.
Omegas are the “lower” gender - though according to Solomon, the idea that one is lower to the other is being more and more fought againts and discussed in the realms - they’re conflict solvers and are seem as sweeter and more fragile. They experince heats and self lubricate. Most of the common demons are omegas.
Betas are a middle ground. They don’t have scents as strong as alphas or omegas, and aren’t easily affected by ruts or heats. They can still mate, however, and are often seem as level-headed and good right hands for alpha leaders. They’re rare. Barbatos is one of them.
And then there’s the Apex, the “alpha of alphas” as Asmodeus described them. An alpha so powerful he stands above all others, in the top of the “food chain.” That’s the category that fits Diavolo.
“So… what are you then, Asmo?” You ask, folding your arms above the book Solomon had highlighted to you.
Asmodeus perks up, bright as ever. “I’m an alpha, of course! Can’t you tell?” He gestures to himself, manicured nails gleaming under the bad lighting. 
“What about you?” You turn to Solomon. He hadn’t mentioned anything about humans having sub genders, but you kinda wish that was possible, although you couldn’t tell why.
Asmodeus pulls Solomon closer by the arm and beams. “He’s my omega!”
Solomon shrugs him off with a low chuckle. “Don’t make me slap you.”
“Kinky,” Asmodeus points a finger to him, smiling wide. He pulls Solomon again, by the shoulders, and lowers his turtleneck, revealing a bite. “I didn’t lie, though.” 
Solomon pushes him off with a scowl, covering the mark with his hand. “Yeah, yeah.” He waves Asmodeus off, adjusting the clothing.
You chuckle at them but say nothing. It’s clear Solomon doesn’t want you to.
Asmodeus pays his scowl no mind, resting his head on Solomon’s neck. Solomon sighs. “I’m not anything. Humans don’t have sub genders. We didn’t evolve to them, so we end up in somewhat of a grayscale. The closest thing to us would be betas.”
“Then we… claiming and that stuff… we can’t do it?” Your eyes trail to Solomon’s neck, but the bite is covered. 
“Not really,” he sighs, “this was an exception.”
“And why’s that?” Asmodeus hums, leaning over Solomon. Their faces are almost touching. 
Solomon sighs again, an amused smile playing on his lips. “Because I’m a demon’s whore.”
Asmodeus smiles, so much that little dimples show up at the corners of his lips, and he claps. “I love you so much.” 
You roll your eyes, making a vomiting sound when they kiss. Lowering your gaze, you read over the title of one of the chapters. 
“Hey,” you look up again, catching their attention, “what about your brothers? Mammon has a different scent, is he an omega?”
Asmodeus splutters, looking exaggeratedly shocked. He chuckles, strained. “Of course not!” He waves hands in front of himself, almost hitting Solomon in the face, “We’re all alphas.”
“Oh,” you say. It doesn’t make sense. None of the others have a scent like Mammon’s. It’s a little sweet, but seems clouded, slightly sour in the corners. 
“I don’t get it,” Asmodeus muses, tapping a finger to his chin, “humans don’t really feel our scent, how can he be different?”
His gaze is closed off on you, analyzing a little too much. It makes you feel like an ant under a magnifying glass, “I uh… he just does.” 
Solomon stares at you but doesn’t comment on it, even if it looks like he wants to. 
Asmodeus hums in thought, gaze still sharp on your every movement. Then, he smiles, almost artificial in its wake, “Well, whatever!” He slaps a hand to the table. At this point, the librarian gave up on shushing you.
Solomon is still staring at you. You move a little. Being watched like this makes you feel kind of squeamish.
Asmodeus is staring at Solomon, and then at you, resting his head on a palm. He hums again, stretching his arms over his head, and then he’s up, pulling Solomon with him. “We should get going!I wonder who’s on dinner duty.”
You blink. Dinner was still far away. Your study session just got cut short, and while you have no idea why, it feels like it’s your fault.
As you close the book and gather your things alongside them, the word seems to call you again. “Being an omega sounds painful, though,” you close the book, “heats and all.” 
Solomon scoffs. He closes his notebook, sliding his bag over a shoulder. “That makes it more fun.”
Asmodeus tsks, waving Solomon off, “Don’t listen to him he doesn’t have a soul.” 
Solomon neither confirms nor denies this statement, instead only giving you an amused chuckle and a tilt of the head. 
The feeling that you did something wrong, crossed a barrier you weren’t supposed to, clings to you. But still, it makes no sense. 
There’s something different about Mammon. You have to figure out why. 
-
The first thing you notice is that you’re missing a pillow. You’re back from a week filled with classes, ready to drop in bed and sleep the entire weekend when you realize something seems off. You look everywhere, but the pillow is nowhere to be found. 
Then, a couple of days later, the thin blanket you keep for movie nights and long study sessions is gone. 
It progresses like that. The throw you use to warm your feet. Your favorite stuffed animal. A fluffy winter jacket. 
When you ask, fed up with this little prank, none of the brothers seem to know where your things went. 
Your pact with Mammon is still somewhat fresh, but you find yourself going to him, if not for a solution, maybe to complain. 
The door is open when you arrive, pushing it inside without ceremony. 
“Mammon, you’re not going to believe-” 
The words die on your throat. There, spread on top of his bed, twisted and fluffed together into a carefully crafted bundle - no, your mind provides, a nest. This is a nest - are all your missing items, and, sitting on top of them with a flushed face and big eyes, is Mammon. 
Oh. 
Turns out you were right. 
“MC, I, I…” Mammon fumbles upwards, all but stumbling in the mess of blankets and pillows he has apparently snatched not only from you but from his brothers as well. There are even some pillows you don’t recognize, cow patterns all over them. 
“Mammon…” it’s all you can say. You have never dealt with this before, but the answer to your question was clear as day, right in front of you. 
Omegas nest when stressed or needy. Came Solomon’s voice, a memory from the lecture just a week before. 
“You’re an omega.” You say, in a surprised whisper, cogs turning on your mind and finally fitting with each other. 
Mammon’s face falls and his breath hitches. “How do you know about that?”
“In class… we went over the basic biology of demons and…”
He gulps audibly, eyes darting to the floor. “Then you know.”
You can almost feel the question marks forming around your head. “Know what?”
“How disgusting this is,” he gestures to the nest. His face is still reddened, voice bordering on wet, “I took your things without telling and I… I used them, my scent is all over them and now… I’m sorry, MC.”
“Mammon…” you reach towards him, but he steps back.
“You probably want them back, right?” He chuckles dryly with no real humor. “It’s okay, I get it. People don’t like when omegas get all needy, I know that.” He scratches at the back of his neck, a smile that doesn’t reach his eyes tugging at his lips. “You can take them, I’ll just…” he points to the door, “yeah.”
And then he’s gone, leaving behind the same smell you came to associate with him, only much sour in its wake. Your pact mark burns, glowing a faint yellow tone. You stand next to his bed, confused and feeling like you managed to fuck up even more.
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thebeautyoffanfics · 4 years ago
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nene yashiro x female!reader
a/n: this is... me writing past midnight on a school night to distract myself. sorry if it's not the best, i just love nene aoiwnfona
warnings: none <3
word count: 1,186
Falling in love with Nene Yashiro was a hard thing. She was always so focused on boys, you wondered if there was any chance that she was interested in... someone like you. Would Nene ever date a girl, if all she ever bragged about were her type of guys?
You tried at first to be subtle. You squeezed your hands together as she blushed, pressing her hands to the sides of her face. She looked so cute, you thought, as she squealed over Minamoto-senpai who had just walked past. "Ahh, have I told you? Minamoto-senpai is definitely my type! He's like a prince!!"
"You have, actually," You said, laughing slightly to easy any nerves that were building up. "Though, out of curiosity... I know your type of boy, but do you... uh- have a type of girl you prefer?"
"A girl?" Nene questioned, pressing her index finger to her chin. "I'm not sure. I... don't think I've thought about it that much, honestly."
Was that her way of avoiding the subject...? It was fine if she didn't want to discuss sexuality, of course- it didn't rule it out completely. All she said was that she hadn't thought about it- she had no reason to lie, right?
Despite those reassurances you gave yourself, you still felt your heart sink a bit. If life were a dream, she could have gotten all blushy like she did with boys- she'd rub her arm, shyly saying that she wasn't quite sure, but asking your type of girl. If it were a dream, you could have confidently replied "well, you see- you're my type, Nene."
This time, it was your turn to grow flustered, as you gently smacked your hands against the sides of your face, forcing yourself to forget those thoughts.
"Say, (Y/N)..." Nene began, patting your hand to get your attention. You glanced over at her, trying to calm the blush that still adorned your face. "Do you have a type?"
"O-of?"
"Well... do you have a preference when it comes to gender?"
"Oh, uh- no, not really. If I fall in love, then I can't help who it's with," You told her, shrugging slightly. Nene nodded, smiling at you, a smile which would have made your heart pick up the pace if you weren't avoiding eye-contact.
"Then, yeah! Do you have a type?"
"I... I don't think so. Maybe someone... kind. Cute, of course... knowing my luck, it would also end up being an unachievable person, haha."
"Ohh, I completely understand how you feel, (Y/N)! I've always preferred a princely type," Ah, masculine terms, "like Minamoto-senpai! But it feels a bit too far-fetched. Natsuhiko-senpai as well, but that's definitely not happening. Not even because he's unachievable, just- I'll stick to admiring his appearance."
"I'm sure it's not as unachievable as you think! You're such a kind, cute person, Nene. Anyone could see that, and I'm sure anyone could fall in love with it."
"Ahh, yeah. I'm sure that explains why I've never been on a date, huh?"
"Trust me, there's definitely more in line than you realize. Pretty people are just a bit intimidating, so everyone's probably just shy."
Nene grinned at that, thanking you gently. You smiled back, forgetting the slightly bitter feeling you got thinking about how lucky her dates would be. However, no one could focus on anything negative when Nene smiled at them like that- knowing that you were the one to cheer her up, you're the reason she grinned like that... it was enough to make you want to encourage her even more. No matter what it was you were encouraging her to do- no matter how bad it would hurt should your encouragements give her the confident to confess- it was worth it.
"(Y/N)... can you see yourself confessing to your crush? Or would you rather wait for them to confess?"
"Huh- well... if I thought there was a chance, if I thought undoubtedly, then I'd probably confess. It's hard to when you think you'll be rejected though."
"That's understandable. I think I'm the same, (Y/N)... but, at the same time, even when I see a chance I let my noisy head get the best of me. So! Like you told me, I'm sure there's a chance with whoever you like. You should definitely tell them how you feel!"
You laughed slightly, trying to cover the bitterness once again bubbling in your stomach. "I wish I could, Nene. I really do."
Nene paused for a bit, and you noticed the fact that the two of you were making direct eye contact. You were sure your eyes had to be reflecting your emotions- sad admiration, best described. Nene's also looked a bit crestfallen, as she blinked.
"(Y/N), is... just out of curiosity, is your crush a girl?"
Oh no- where was this going? Your heart began to beat faster, as you broke the eye contact. "Yeah? Why?"
"Do, uh... do I know her?" Nene asked. Should you have been looking, you would have noticed the way her face was warming up.
"Oh, mayyybe? You could have seen her around, probably, maybe-"
"Then, please, take this as your sign. Confess to her!"
You felt your face burn even brighter, as the bell tolled, signaling the end of your last class. Students piled out of the room, until it was just you and Nene, the both of you slowly packing your bags.
"Nene... do you really think I should? What if the feeling isn't mutal? What if she thinks I'm crazy for being-"
"She won't. She definitely won't, I promise."
You paused, heart beating harder than it ever had.
"I..."
You swallowed thickly, beginning to walk towards the door. In case of rejection, it would be easier to just run. You couldn't stop now- you'd already begun digging your grave.
"I like you, Nene. You're the girl. Sorry- I'm sorry- please, don't think of me any differently."
Expecting to hear words of rejection or distaste, you felt yourself freeze when you heard a gentle sigh and giggle. "I'm so glad, (Y/N)!" Nene exclaimed, and you heard her footsteps approaching you. Quickly, you turned to face her, sure that your ears were deceiving you.
"You're...? Nene, you don't need to pity me. Just let me down easy, that's all I ask."
"No way am I letting you down-. I couldn't bring myself to do it, (Y/N), I'm sorry. I really like you, really. I accept your confession!"
Nene grasped your hands in hers, and you felt your face practically glowing bright red. "R-really?"
"Really!"
You couldn't help but smile, relief flooding you. "I'm- I'm so glad," You whispered, squeezing Nene's hands gently. Nene giggled, holding onto your hands for a moment more, before releasing one and beginning to continue walking. You had no choice but to follow along (as if you'd choose to do otherwise) as she walked towards your lockers. "Then... would you like to be my girlfriend? O-or, if you want to go on a date first, that's fine too!" You suggested, opening your locker. "I'm glad to be your girlfriend. We can go on dates too though."
"Yeah, of course! Any ideas?"
"Well... tomorrow's Saturday, so we could always go get ice cream or see a movie?"
"A new ice cream shop opened up recently!" You exclaimed, shutting your locker. "We could go there? I'll drop by your house arounddd... 1?"
"Sounds perfect!"
58 notes · View notes
tlhrfanfic · 4 years ago
Text
[Late] Thus With a Kiss I Die
Title: Thus With a Kiss I Die Ship: Late (Nate/Procrastination&Logan) Warnings: Idiot Gays, Kissing, Making Out, Disaster Gays, One Brain cell shared. Cuuuute. Words: 12,444 Request: So this was a Kiss AU list request that was requested by @romantichopelessly​ for a present for getting lots of stuff done with her Botwot AU: 36. we can never be together.
Summary: Logan was just cast as Juliet in the school play. He is not thrilled. Then he finds out that his crush Nate is Romeo. He's doomed.
Read on AO3
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Logan couldn’t believe it. It wasn’t that he couldn’t believe that a senior class in an all-boys boarding school was doing a play. No, that was statistically likely, all things considered. 
 What he couldn’t believe, however, was that the school had chosen Romeo and Juliet as the play for the senior class that year. 
 Why?
 They weren’t even changing the genders of the female characters to appear pro-gay or any of the less than moral types of things private institutions did to bring in donators. 
 “Maybe our parents just thought they’d get a kick out of some of their kids dressing up in drag and talking falsetto.” Logan snorted and glanced at his best friend. 
Virgil sighed. 
 “I’m soooo glad I got the nurse. Yes! No one cares about that old hag’s lines. Smooth sailing.”
 Logan glared. 
 Virgil cleared his throat, shoving his hands into the pockets of his hoodie, and shrugged. 
 “Yeah… tough luck you got the lead.”
 Logan laughed at that and shook his head. 
 “Thank you.”
 Virgil raised a brow. “For what?”
 “Most people have been congratulating me.”
 Virgil snorted. “Oh, yeah. Well, any time dude.”
 Logan sighed and nodded. 
 “So uh… have you talked with him yet?”
 Logan, who currently had his face in his hands, could hear the slight smirk in Virgil’s carefully phrased question. He suddenly longed to glare daggers at his friend but, due to all the excitement, was too exhausted to bother. Definitely not his excitement, but it was felt nonetheless. 
 “I don’t have any idea to whom you would be referring to Virgil.”
Logan attempted to silence the other with a look but his gamble failed.
 Virgil’s smirk widened. “Oh you don’t, do you?”
 Logan mustered up the energy to actually glare daggers his way, but there still wasn’t much fire behind it. He sighed. 
 “What am I going to do?” he asked, a slight whine to his words that he generally avoided. 
 Virgil sighed as well. “Why are you asking me?”
 Logan rolled his eyes and adjusted his glasses. 
 “One of us is actually in a romantic relationship and it is not me.”
 Virgil blushed and shrugged.
 “It’s all still very new though so I don’t know what you expect from me here, Lo.”
 “How do I get him to like me?”
 “Dude, you’ve liked that guy since we started high school. If anyone knows how to get him to like you, it’s you.”
 Logan groaned. 
 “Has Patton been having you listen to those self-growth tapes again?”
 Virgil shrugged but smiled softly and, for a moment, Logan smiled as well. He was very pleased to see his friend so happy. “They’re really not so bad.”
 “Good to know.”
 Logan sighed. 
 “Why don’t you just tell him?”
 Logan looked up at Virgil as if he’d grown an extra head. 
 “Right. Tell Nate Lassus, whom most of those students who identify as gay or bisexual and/or pan want, that I’ve had a crush on him for three years? Someone who I should not even want because truly, what do we have in common?”
 “You mean aside from the fact that you guys like each other and want to kiss each other and make out and do I need to keep going?”
 “That does not promote a healthy relationship, Virgil.”
 Virgil rolled his eyes. “Then you get to know him and I am certain there is something you guys have in common.”
 “Also, he does not like me. Don’t think I didn’t hear that.”
 “He does, and I hoped you would.” Virgil stuck out his tongue.
 Logan bit his tongue to keep from snapping at his friend. Virgil had been on this whole theory that Nate liked him as well. Which was absolutely absurd and held no merit whatsoever despite Virgil and Patton’s so-called evidence. 
 “Patton said he looked excited when you were chosen for Juliet. Even looked your way, hoping you were looking at him.”
 Logan looked up at Virgil. For a moment, there was a sliver of hope but reality sunk in. 
 “This is Nate Lassus we are talking about, Virgil. He’s just excited to get to kiss a guy on stage.”
 Virgil groaned but dropped the subject. Logan knew that wouldn’t be the last of it, however, he was happy for the break.
 »»———— ♞ ————««
 Nate watched as his two best friends fooled around with some of the prop swords backstage. He was currently working on some backgrounds, hammering some pre-cut wood boards that would be used as trees or perhaps castle props or any number of things. 
 He didn’t do the whole painting bit, but he could definitely manage hammering support pieces of wood to the backdrops. 
 As he worked, Nate thought back to the assembly when they were informed that a play would be put on and the parts that they would perform. When he had heard his name first, announced along with the name of the play’s male lead, his only thought had been a half-hearted wish. 
 If only Logan could be my Juliet… he’d thought and then—as if his thoughts had actually held any power at all—Logan’s name had been called and Juliet’s had followed. Nate could only glance at Logan, hoping to see what the other’s reaction had been. Unfortunately, it had looked like… well, not disgust, which was good… but definitely shock and dread. Nate had tried to tell himself that the looks were more about the role he’d been given and had nothing to do with himself.
 It felt like a lie, but it made Nate feel better all the same.
 “Take that, heathen,” Janus’s crisp voice broke through his thoughts. He glanced up from his spot on the floor as he shifted to the next set of backdrops and supports. 
 “Never, you scallywag bitch!” Remus cackled and rushed at Janus, the pair’s swords clacked with every strike.
 Where Janus actually had had fencing lessons and moved with finesse and experience, Remus struck down with pure force and nothing else. With Janus’s slight frame—at five-foot-four—it would seem that Remus’s strategy could gain him the upper hand. However, it was the smaller teen’s quick and fluid footwork that secured his victory. 
 As Nate had guessed, Remus’s wood sword was soon sailing across the room, clacking onto the tiled floor. Remus cackled, rather than growing angry, and rushed to get the wooden sword. With the more chaotic of his friends distracted, Janus turned to Nate while continuing to run through different fencing patterns.
 Sharp eyes met Nate’s, one a deep brown and the other a warm gold. He said nothing, knowing that whatever it was his friend wanted to say, he would get to it when he was ready and not a moment sooner. Still, as the moments ticked on, Nate wished he would just get on with it already. 
 “Sooo… Logan Wright is your Juliet… now why does this seem so fitting.… Oh right, because you complete morons are in love with each other. Maybe even the teachers and staff know it and this is the whole damn school’s way of saying ‘Now Kiss’.”
 Nate rolled his eyes. He tried to stay chipper and upbeat but now that it was spoken, he could no longer ignore the siren call of his crush as a topic. 
 “Jan… he didn’t even look at me… what if…”
 “Hopeless…”
 “Jan, I’m serious here.”
 “And so am I, Nate.”
 Remus returned. 
 “How do you know Logan likes him anyway, babe?”
 Janus looked at his boyfriend and shrugged. 
 “I can’t really say how… just trust me on this. My instincts are solid when it comes to people’s love lives.”
 Nate wanted to argue but, since Janus was his best friend from grade school, he already knew it was pointless. Not to mention, Janus had walked into the school freshman year, spotted Remus, and pointed him out to Nate. 
 “That guy is strange and quite possibly deranged. And I’m not sure how I know this, but we are most definitely going to date.”
 Nate had snorted and moved on. Then it had happened in Junior year, long after Janus had forgotten about the fateful statement he had made two years before. So he might have been right back then, but Nate really didn't want to have to wait two years like the other had to find out if his best friend’s prediction today would come true. 
 “You really should tell ol’ Logan how you feel, dude.” Remus shrugged, grinning that almost maniacal grin of his. Nate couldn’t help but grin back. 
 Still, his friends obviously didn’t get it. 
 If Logan had any feelings, he would have looked his way at the assembly when he’d realized it was Nate who he’d be kissing. 
 Oh, fuck. That’s right.
 Not only was it that Logan would be kissing him… 
 Nate would get to kiss Logan. 
 “And this look is Nate now realizing that not only does he get to share the lead with his crush, but he also gets to kiss said crush on stage in front of everybody.” Janus murmured with a side glance at his boyfriend. Remus snickered. 
 Nate threw them the double bird and kicked them out. 
 Getting back to work, Nate put all thoughts of crushes and kisses out of his mind.
 »»———— 🕶️ ————««
 Logan almost didn’t make it to the meeting with Mr. Thomas Sanders, the drama teacher who was putting the show on, and Nate. He was just going to continue on with his normal routine and that would be that. They would realize he just wasn’t going to do it and they would get someone else. 
 Then he realized that part of him wanted to go. Was it curiosity? Or was it the siren call of having a valid reason to spend more time with Nate?
 Logan blinked as he looked around, finding himself already headed in the direction of the theater. 
 It took a lot less time than he hoped to reach the two large oak doors, opening one of them and slipping inside. He was not surprised to see Mr. Sanders’s bright, welcoming smile. He was also not surprised to see that Nate was not there. 
 Nate had a habit of running late… all the time. 
 Something that would annoy him in anyone else, but with Nate, it somehow just worked.
 “Logan! Thank you for being here,” Mr. Sanders said, still smiling brightly. “Nate should be here soon.”
 Logan nodded, ignoring the heat rising up the back of his neck. 
 He jumped a moment later as the oak door opened once more, his head jerking in that direction.
 In walked Nate, looking just as attractive as he always did. It was because he was having what Roman, Patton’s friend, would call a ‘swoon moment’ that Logan didn’t notice it at first, but Nate’s gaze was on him from the moment he walked in the door. 
 Pretending that his blush was not currently seeping into his cheeks, Logan cleared his throat and turned in Nate’s direction. Standing up straight, Logan nodded at the other in greeting. While they weren’t friends, they had shared a number of classes and projects and school trips over the years. They’d talked but only in a capacity regarding those things. 
 None of which were personal or intimate. 
 Logan withheld a sigh, then remembered he should say something. 
 “Salutations, Nathan.”
 “Hey yourself, Logan. Hey, Mr. S.”
 Nate joined them and Mr. Sanders led them to the front row of seats. He had three padded fold out chairs, one in front of the other two. Logan took one of them and Nate took the other. Ignoring how close he was to Nate at that very moment, Logan focused instead on Mr. Sanders. 
 The drama teacher took the chair in front of them and beamed at them both. 
 “Thank you both for coming. I just wanted to take a moment and congratulate you both on getting the roles, even if you may not have wanted them.”
 Mr. Sanders who smiled apologetically. 
 “I had suggested we hold auditions and I was overruled.”
 Logan shrugged, a habit he had picked up from Virgil. 
 “It can’t be helped now and it’s not for any major event. I mean, I may suffer from making an absolute mockery of myself but… I have my own reasons for doing it, I suppose.”
 “Oh really? Do tell,” Nate pressed, flashing an easy grin.
 Logan flushed. He couldn’t believe he had just said what he’d said. He had felt surprisingly calm in the moment though he supposed that was just the effect Mr. Sanders had on people.
 Effective for an instructor teaching performing arts. 
 “It’s just… I’m a team player. We all have to do this. I cannot be selfish. I’d also… well, I’d kind of like to challenge myself too, I suppose.”
 And it had absolutely nothing to do with the fact that Nate was playing Romeo and Logan would get to kiss him. 
 Logan’s heart rate increased and his eyes fell to Nate’s mouth before quickly looking away.
 “Huh. Well… that’s epic. Good for you, dude.”
 Logan nodded. 
 “Nate’s right. That is very epic!” Mr. Sanders agreed. 
 He clapped his hands.
 “Alright, I know I don’t have to tell you two that Romeo and Juliet are the two most important characters in the play. Obviously, without them, the play would not exist. But, I want you guys to forget about that.”
 Logan’s confusion must have shown on his face because Mr. Sanders elaborated. “You are to think of them as people. Think of them as your friends. Or better yet, yourselves. I want you to get into their minds and think about why they do the things they do in the way they do them.”
 He stood up, pacing back and forth as he explained, glancing at them every so often. He then returned to them, taking the chair once more.
 “By doing that, you open them up in an intimate way that allows you to become them. Does all of that make sense?”
 He looked at Logan first before glancing at Nate. 
 Logan considered the words. He wasn’t an actor. That was Roman. 
 Which reminded him to make a mental note to speak with Roman after this. Unfortunately, while that would help future him, it did not help him now. 
 “I suppose… it’s… well, if we don’t feel what they are feeling…” Logan was grasping at straws. He was hands down the worst choice for the character of Juliet he had ever seen. 
 Nate leaned toward Logan. It was subtle but Logan, constantly aware of his surroundings, noticed. Strangely, it was comforting. 
 “Let me take a stab.”
 “Go ahead, Nate.” Mr. Sanders said with a grin, pleased with the other’s enthusiasm.
 “It’s because we can’t just learn the lines and do what the movements and motions say. Anyone can do that, but in order to sell what we are doing, we have to understand the character’s struggles to better perform them on the stage. By becoming the characters, we help the audience experience what they were feeling and thinking.”
 “Very good Nate! Exactly.”
 Logan glanced at Nate and smiled his appreciation. Nate shrugged.
 And winked.
 Logan blushed and turned his attention back to Mr. Sanders who was rising to head to his bag. He pulled out what appeared to be papers and two boxes and headed back to them. Handing each boy a stapled document, he continued to talk. 
 “These are your scripts. Feel free to highlight, take notes, change directions, and—although anything you change must be approved by me—I am always open to and strongly urge suggestions.” He then handed them each a box of two highlighters. “Rehearsals will start tomorrow after school. They will run for an hour and a half during weekdays for the next four weeks. The three weeks after that will be two and a half hour practices and the week after that is show week.”
 He glanced at them both. 
 “Any questions?”
 Logan, afraid to speak, shook his head. He held his script and highlighters close, ready to bolt at the first opportunity. Nate must have agreed in some fashion because Mr. Sanders continued on. 
 “One last suggestion. You are expected to run your lines outside of rehearsals. It’s the only way to memorize the lines. However, you are not expected to run lines together. I do want to strongly urge that you do. Find a nice quiet place to run the scenes you guys have together. You both already seem pretty comfortable around each other. That will help! Especially when it comes to practicing the kiss.” 
 He glanced at Logan. “You do not have to practice the kiss but you will want to. Trust me. It’s not easy to kiss strangers on stage.” He shuddered and Logan had to wonder at his experience with such things. Perhaps it was better not to ask. 
 He ignored his flaming cheeks and cleared his throat. 
 “Thank you for all the suggestions and insight, Mr. Sanders, but if that is all, I really must go.”
 “Yes, of course. You are both good to go and I look forward to seeing you at rehearsals.”
 Logan took off and didn’t look back. 
  »»———— ♞ ————««
 Nate wasn’t sure how he managed it, but he was able to keep his disappointment and irritation off his face until he thanked Mr. Sanders and left. 
 So… that was it then. 
 Logan didn’t like him and was actually disgusted by the idea of not only kissing him but practicing kissing him too. 
 He sighed as he ignored the urge to hit the wall. Even if it would help him let out his frustration, he’d have a broken hand and that would just do no one any good. 
 Deciding to put the feelings into doing something useful, Nate made his way to the door that led backstage and headed in. Making his way past the dressing rooms and costume closets, Nate reached the main backstage floor, where he found Janus. 
 His friend was busy working, sketching backgrounds onto the backdrops that had already been assembled. Janus didn’t even bother looking up. 
 “Nice of you to join me, Nate.”
 Nate had no idea how he always knew it was him without looking, but at this point, he couldn’t be bothered to ask. Janus would likely take it to his grave anyway. 
 “Hey, dude.” Nate sighed.
 Janus immediately looked up from what he was doing, his eyes narrowing. 
 “What happened?” 
 Nate blinked, a shiver at the dangerous look in those two toned eyes running down his back. Not for the first time, he was extremely happy that Janus was his friend rather than an enemy. 
 “Nothing… exactly?”
 “Darling, it’s my job to be vague and interesting. Yours is to be strong and mmm… a little himbo-esque. Now, I’m going to ask you again. What happened?”
 Nate sighed and explained what had happened in the meeting and Logan’s sudden rush out the doors at the end. Janus kept the same unreadable expression on his face throughout the story and when Nate finished, he sighed. 
 Nate frowned. 
 “What?”
 “Nate… darling… I don’t mean to sound harsh when I say this… who the hell am I kidding, yes I do. Especially since I know you can take it. Think about what you just told me and then think about who it is you’re talking about…”
 “Logan… yeah, so what?”
 Janus tutted. 
 “Okay… I see I am going to have to spell this out for you, hon. In the years that we have attended this school with Logan, have you ever seen him date? Ever see him hold hands with anyone?” He watched Nate closely. Nate, not sure where this was going, just listened. “Ever see him hug anyone… well, I suppose he gets hugs from Patton but that definitely doesn’t count. Everyone gets hugs from Patton. But anyway… ever see him in any scenario like those I mentioned?”
 Nate didn’t really need to think about it. He had liked Logan for so long, it was as if his presence was a magnet for Nate’s gaze. 
 “No… but I don’t really see how…”
 “So gorgeous… so sweet… but so, so dumb.”
 Nate might have felt offended but the other said the insult with such fondness it almost felt like the other compliments he’d offered. 
 “Janus, just get to the point.”
 “Very well. Of course Logan ran out of there at the thought of practicing kissing you… he’s never been kissed, Nate.”
 Oh.
 Oh.
 “Oh.”
 Janus smirked and stood up, coming to stand in front of him. Nate looked down at him and sighed. 
 “I… never even considered… huh… okay… so I should definitely go find him then?”
 “Oh, most definitely.”
 Janus winked. Nate grinned at the other and nodded at the sketch. 
 “Nice trees, by the way. I think that’s what they are—”
 “Fuck you,” Janus said but grinned. 
 “You wish.”
 “Don’t I just.” 
 Nate chuckled and pointed at the hall that led to the exit with his thumb. 
 “I’ve got a cute nerd to find. Catch you later.”
 “Oh, have you learned how to catch things now?”
 Nate, who totally could not catch anything thrown his way, gasped. 
 “Low blow, my friend.”
 “It’s how you know I care. Now, go find Logan. Also, maybe consider telling him how you feel… just a thought. No pressure.”
 “Yeah… we’ll see. Later.”
 “Go get him, darling.”
 Nate snorted but headed out for the dorms.
 »»———— 🕶️ ————««
 Logan reached the dorm room that he shared with Virgil and quickly buried himself in the thing that made him feel safest: homework. 
 He was so lost in his homework that he almost didn’t hear the knock on the door. It wasn’t odd to have someone knock on his door, so Logan didn’t give it much thought. It was likely Patton looking for Virgil or something. Patton often forgot that his cell phone would be a much more efficient solution to finding his boyfriend. 
 Then again, also knowing Patton pretty well by now, it was just as likely he was checking up on Logan. That boy did wear his heart on his sleeve and would want to help if he perceived someone was upset in any way. 
 Therefore, when he went to open his door, it was with great surprise, and uncalled for embarrassment, he found Nate on the other side. 
 “So… hey.”
 “... Hi.”
 Logan did not miss how Nate glanced into his dorm before looking at him once more. 
 “I was wondering if you… uh… if you had a moment.”
 Logan shifted slightly but nodded. When he said nothing, Nate continued. 
 “Do you think we can maybe take this inside?”
 “You wish to be invited into my dorm room?”
 Nate chuckled softly. Logan frowned. It almost sounded fond but that made no sense. Logan was barely a blip on Nate’s radar. There was no reason for him to be fond of anything that had to do with Logan. 
 Deciding it was obviously projections of his own feelings—why did he have them again?—Logan pushed any thoughts and inquiries on fondness from his mind. 
 “Yeah, if that’s alright with you.”
 Logan considered before nodding, opening the door and stepping away to let Nate pass. He closed the door behind him, trying to ignore the twisting of his insides from having his crush in his room. 
 Not sure what to do with himself, Logan returned to his desk and leaned against it, watching Nate and ignoring the heat rising up the back of his neck. 
 “Alright… we’re inside. What did you wish to speak to me about?”
 Nate, who had been checking out the room, seemed to focus on Logan’s side. 
 Interesting. 
 He grinned at Logan now and crossed from the book shelf he had been perusing to stand in front of him. 
 “Yeah, so… I just wanted to talk about the play…”
 Logan sighed. 
 “Obviously. There is no other reason that could have brought you here. I know we don’t talk too much and we aren’t friends so there would be no reason to hang out, but surely, after years of school with me, you would know that I am pretty observant.”
 Nate chuckled that same fond laugh again. The sound had heat slipping into Logan’s cheeks and he cleared his throat. 
 “What about the play, Nathan?”
 Nate sighed. “Janus told me you’ve uh… you’ve never been kissed…”
 Oh.
 Right, the kiss in the play.
 Even though this was obviously about kissing each other in the play, Logan couldn’t get past the fact that he would have to kiss Nate. If it had been anyone else, he was certain he could manage. But with Nate… 
 What if he was horrible? What if Nate told everyone?
 No… Nathan Lasses could be a dick but to most people, he was kind and fair and nice. Besides, in Logan’s humble opinion, Remy—Nate’s twin—was much worse. 
 Nate wouldn’t tell anyone. Knowing Nate, he’d offer to help him practice and—
 Suddenly it clicked. He knew exactly why Nate was there. 
 “Ah. You wish to practice the kiss,” he said simply. 
 Nate’s eyes widened in surprise for a brief moment before the look was replaced with something else. Something softer. 
 Do not even think of that word, Logan, or so help me.
 “Correct, as always, scholar.”
 Logan blinked. Huh, a nickname. 
 As far as Logan had been informed by Patton, nicknames were things people gave to other people they really liked and wanted to be friends with. 
 Logan held back a sigh. 
 Friendship… well, I suppose if that’s what he wants from me… it would be selfish of me to refuse.
 Ignoring the sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach, he forced a smile. 
 “That… that would be okay with me…” Logan said. 
 This was not how he wanted his first kiss—especially not with Nate—but as there was no hope for more, it would be pointless to hold out on the impossibility that there ever would be.
 Besides, it was better this way. He was far too busy for silly things like holding hands, little whispers spoken between kisses, flirting, cuddling. He wasn’t big on those things anyway. Even if he would have liked to try… with Nate.
 “Wait, really? I honestly thought I was going to have to like talk you into it or something.”
 Logan shook his head and held up a hand.
 “Not at all. Janus, though I’d love to know who his source was, is correct. I’ve never kissed or been kissed. This is an adequate solution. Completely logical.”
 Nate frowned and Logan hesitated. 
 “What’s wrong?”
 Nate had a look on his face that was hard for Logan to read. It was reserved but there was something else too. Before Logan could figure out what it could be, Nate was suddenly grinning and clapping. It was as if nothing had happened but there was still a weird charge in the air. 
 Or maybe Logan was reading too much into the situation. 
 “Nothing’s wrong, dude. Let’s get started.”
 Logan’s eyes widened at that. 
 “Now?”
 He was pained to admit to himself that he might have squeaked the word, but if any one else asked, he would take it to his grave. 
 Nate snickered. 
 “Aww, getting shy? Cute.”
 Logan blushed at that and, regretfully, flailed his embarrassment. 
 “I’m not cute!”
 “I mean, of course you don’t find yourself attractive, scholar, but you never know. Some people might.”
 “Oh, yes, and someday Patton will stop hanging out with cats even though he’s pretty severely allergic.”
 “Haha, yeah right.”
 “Exactly.”
 It seemed to hit Nate what Logan had meant and suddenly the taller teen was closing the remaining distance between them.
 “I’m serious, Logan.” He looked it too. His dark brown eyes locked with Logan’s and he smiled the same smile from earlier. The one that Logan was positive he was projecting because it made zero sense for Nate to smile at him like that unless…
 No Logan. You already ran the probability of a guy like him liking a guy like you. He doesn’t like you in the same way you like him.
 “Hey, Logan…” Nate said, voice lower. Softer.
 Logan looked up, unsure of when he looked away. His grey eyes met brown once more and suddenly the atmosphere changed. 
 He could no longer hear the world outside his dorm room and time felt slower. He wasn’t sure what was happening and he wasn’t sure he liked it. Clearing his throat, he swallowed. 
 “Yes, Nathan…” he whispered. 
 Why was he whispering?
 “Can I kiss you?”
 Logan swallowed again but nodded. 
 Nate smiled and Logan was shocked again to find it seemed kind of… disappointed. Sad, even. Then Nate was closing his eyes and Logan, completely out of his element, did the same. 
 The first contact was soft… almost as if it hadn’t been there at all. Logan found himself leaning into it and his lips found Nate’s. He gasped and pulled away, bringing a hand to his mouth. 
 “Very good, for your first kiss,” Nate said, grinning teasingly. Logan blushed. 
 “Shut up.”
 “No, no. None of that. I’m serious. You did good.”
 “Right.” 
 Logan had no reason to believe him, of course, but it was nice to hear. Then again, unlike Logan, Nate had kissed many people. Maybe he knew what he was talking about. He cleared his throat.
 “Should we… keep practicing?”
 Nate seemed surprised by the question but laughed and nodded. 
 “We absolutely should keep practicing. Definitely should. One hundred percent.”
 Logan rolled his eyes but snorted. 
 “Very well. Kiss me again.”
 Nate smirked. 
 “Yes, sir.”
 With that, he placed his hands on Logan’s hips and tugged him against his body, leaning down to kiss him deeply on the mouth.
  »»———— ♞ ————««
 Nate couldn’t help the pleased sound that escaped him as he kissed Logan deeply. His eyes were closed, brows furrowed, lips moving against Logan’s. 
 Never in all his wildest dreams had he ever thought he would get the chance to kiss Logan. Now that he had, however, he felt as if the universe was laughing in his face. 
 Like, yeah you get to kiss him but you ain’t never gonna have him. Not how you so desperately desire.
 Fuck the universe. 
 If he couldn’t find the words to tell Logan…
 If he couldn’t trust himself to say the right things…
 Well, he’d just have to tell him through his kisses. 
 He could do that.
 Logan’s arms wrapped around him and Nate took that as all the permission he needed to hold Logan closer. He moved one hand to the small of Logan’s back as his other hand came up to frame the intelligent teen’s face. 
 Nate was the one who had to pull away, inhaling sharply as he tried to catch his breath and chuckling as Logan chased after his retreating mouth. 
 “So…” Nate asked, the word low and still a little breathless. “How was that?”
 Logan just blinked up at Nate. “H-huh, what, I’m sorry?”
 Nate laughed deeply at that and, before he could talk himself out of it, he quickly leaned down to kiss the other’s forehead. 
 “Cute…” he said, voice low and fond. 
 Logan blushed but said nothing. Silence fell between them, neither knowing what to say or what to do. Logan seemed to want to say something—maybe ask something—but it was clear to Nate that he was nervous. Nate wished he could think of just the right thing to say that would reassure the other that he wasn’t ever going to judge him. 
 If he only knew how much I care…
 Then maybe you should tell him. That voice sounded far more like Janus’s than it did Nate’s.
 Yeah right.
 Nate smiled down at Logan and was about to ask him if it would be okay if they practiced again tomorrow but in the next moment Logan was pressing closer and kissing him. Having absolutely no problem with this change in plans, Nate wrapped both arms tight around Logan, embracing him completely as he kissed back hungrily. 
 It was Logan’s turn to make pleased sorts of sounds, the other teen obviously getting lost in the feelings and sensations. That was all well and good, of course, but the sounds did things to Nate and if he allowed those sounds to keep doing those things to him, well… 
 He wouldn’t need words to tell Logan how he felt because Logan would be able to feel it.
 Pulling away quickly, Nate worked hard to catch his breath. He swallowed hard and cleared his throat. 
 “Okay! So, I think this is a great place to stop. We can totally practice some more tomorrow, if you’re okay with that—”
 “Yes.” Logan said it so quickly he seemed to surprise even himself. 
 Nate’s brows rose as Logan cleared his throat and spoke up again, more reserved. 
 “I mean, that would be agreeable.”
 Nate smirked at that.
 “Great. Same time after classes? Back here?”
 Logan nodded but then stopped. 
 “Yes… but can we go to your room? I just… if Virgil’s here I’m not going to be able to… you know… it’ll be too embarrassing.”
 “You do realize that we are going to be kissing in front of a whole lot more than just one student, right?”
 Logan nodded, pulling off his glasses. He pulled out a little handkerchief, wiping gently at the lenses. 
 “Of course… but that’s a little different. We’ll be on stage and the audience will mostly be in shadow. Not to mention, the audience will be one collective group. I won’t know where my friends are sitting—well, most of them will be in the play but that is beside the point—and so I won’t see them. If it were just Virgil there though… it just seems too…”
 “Intimate,” Nate asked, hopeful. 
 Logan considered the word and finally nodded.
 “Yes, exactly. Too intimate.”
 “Well, I mean I have a roommate too, so I’m not sure I can promise Janus won’t be there.”
 That was a bold face lie. He could and would make sure Janus would not be there. 
 He grinned. “But if that’s cool with you, then I am more than happy to sacrifice my room for our kissing practices.”
 Logan blushed but smiled gently, nodding. 
 “Thank you.”
 Nate nodded. 
 He glanced at the door and then back at Logan. 
 “So… I have to be honest… kissing you is kinda fun…”
 That’s the understatement of the century.
 Still, he didn’t want to come on too strong and scare the other. The blush this pulled from Logan also made the light confession so very worth it.
 “Mind if I take one for the road?”
 Logan’s eyes brightened and Nate watched as the other’s eyes darted to Nate’s mouth and back while licking his lips. He nodded slowly. 
 “I would not be opposed.”
 “Good.”
 Nate moved in close once more, hands on Logan’s hips as he guided him in closer. His brown eyes met gray and he grinned warmly. 
 “Cute,” he said as the other blushed a little deeper.
 Before Logan could argue his point, Nate closed his eyes and kissed Logan hard. Logan gasped into the kiss, perhaps surprised by the sudden intensity. Nate took the opportunity to slip his tongue into Logan’s mouth, exploring it and caressing Logan’s tongue with his own. 
 Logan let out an almost whimpering sound and Nate groaned in response. It was Logan who ended the kiss this time and Nate couldn’t deny that he had definitely chased after his mouth. Logan was panting and pulled out of Nate’s hold, the taller teen letting him. 
 “Wow…” Logan breathed, bringing his fingers to press at kiss swollen lips. 
 “Yeah,” Nate agreed, catching his own breath. Silence fell between them again but it was almost comfortable this time. Nate grinned. 
 “Well, I guess I’ll see you in class and kissing practice after.”
 Logan nodded. When it was clear he wasn’t going to say anything else, Nate moved close once more and kissed the top of his head. 
 “See you tomorrow, scholar.”
 “See you tomorrow, Nathan.”
 Nate had the walk back to his own dorm to consider everything that had just happened. He couldn’t believe how well Logan had taken to kissing him. Then again, Nate had it so bad even if Logan couldn’t kiss, he’d still enjoy it… but there was also the fact that Logan was intelligent and smart and capable and it was no surprise at all that he had picked up kissing just as well as any other subject or skill. 
 But Logan had enjoyed it… and had wanted to keep doing it. 
 Just like that, hope returned in Nate’s heart. 
 Maybe, just maybe, his hopeless crush on Logan Wright wasn’t so hopeless after all. 
 »»———— 🕶️ ————««
 Logan continued to press his fingers against his lips throughout the night. He did it so much that it almost became something of a fixation. He would remember the feeling of Nate’s lips pressed against his own and brush against his own lips, still sore from all the kissing. 
 He would then smile and sigh as his insides fluttered until he reminded himself that the kissing was just Nate being a good friend and one would assume a good actor. Logan was pretty certain that Roman went on often about something he called ‘method acting’. 
 His and Nate’s kissing was simply that. 
 Logan longed for so much more. 
 Still, Nate had obviously enjoyed kissing him so maybe this kissing practice would prove to be a good thing. 
 Logan brought his hand up to his lips once more, smiling softly as he brushed against them idly. 
 It was at that moment the door opened and Virgil shuffled in, tossing his bag by the little couch in the middle of the room. He collapsed onto it, only then glancing Logan’s way. 
 Logan, still lost in the memory of kissing Nate, had registered Virgil’s arrival but said nothing, still sliding his fingers gently across his lips. 
 “Hello~ Earth to Logan? Dude, what’s going on with you?”
 Logan blinked and looked at Virgil.
 “Oh, hey there, Virgil. Did you hang out with Patton?”
 Virgil nodded before shaking his head. 
 “Nope. We’re talking about you… you’re acting very… uh… Roman-y and Patton-y today.”
 Logan blushed because what that meant was that he was being very feelings-y. Logan usually was not a very feelings-y person. His best friend knew this well. 
 There were, however, some things he was not yet aware of. 
 “I kissed Nate today!” Logan said. Then he added, as an afterthought, “a lot.”
 Virgil’s eyes widened almost comically. 
 “You did what? When?”
 “While you were out…”
 “So, what? Did he ask you out? Are you two dating? Do I have to give him the best friend talk where I threaten his life if he hurts you?”
 Logan’s brows rose and he stared at Virgil waiting for him to end his tirade. He didn’t respond until Virgil grinned sheepishly and gestured in a go-right-ahead sort of manner. 
 “Okay, first… you have the wrong impression but, considering I blurted out that I kissed him with no other context, that’s not your fault. He sought me out here and I realized that he was offering to practice with me and well… I accepted.”
 “So…” Virgil bit his lip. “Look, I know when we’re younger and they tell you your first kiss is a big deal and all and it’s best with someone you really like and that likes you too but… it’s not like it is on tv.”
 Logan shrugged and smiled at Virgil. He knew it wasn’t a fully happy smile, but honestly, Virgil was a good friend. He tried his very best to help Logan any time he needed to feel better. 
 “So… even though you have to kiss him in the play when doesn’t like you—which, I’m still positive he does, that’s not the point here—how was it?”
 Logan laughed as he watched Virgil shift to the edge of the couch, leaning forward in Logan’s direction, obviously invested in whatever it was Logan would say next. 
 The intelligent teen blushed but smiled slowly, biting his lip. 
 “It was so much better than I could ever imagine.”
 Virgil chuckled at that and nodded. 
 “Yeah. Yeah, I feel that. Remember when we were younger and we were grossed out by even the thought.”
 Logan nodded. In fact, until that first kiss, Logan had still very much thought that. But now… 
 “I want to kiss him again.”
 Virgil laughed again. 
 “Damn, L.” 
 Logan blushed. “Shut up.”
 Virgil snorted. “Nope. Never. Besides, it's my job to keep you on your toes.”
 Logan shook his head. Idly, he brought his hand up to brush at his lips again. 
 “I’m a little worried though… it’s obvious that you like kissing him so much because of your feelings for him, L.”
 Logan nodded. He too had come to the conclusion. 
 “Okay… maybe don’t have so many practices?”
 Logan considered and nodded. 
 “Yeah… yeah, maybe.”
 Virgil seemed happy to have helped and went off to shuffle in his backpack for his homework. Logan sighed. 
 Virgil had a point. A very valid and logical point. 
 Unfortunately, Logan was not sure how well he would be able to resist now that he’d had just a taste of what could never be.
 Pushing the problem out of his mind, Logan turned his attention back to the problems that were within his ability to solve. 
  »»———— ♞ ————««
 Nate honestly felt like he was floating as he walked through the dorms, heading for his own room. He headed inside, making his way to his bed and tossed himself onto it. As he looked up at the ceiling, he brought a hand to his mouth and slid his fingers against his lower lip. 
 A smile slowly slipped onto his face as he pulled his hand away and bit his lip. He couldn’t believe how readily Logan had agreed to ‘kiss practice’. He had even agreed to continue it. 
 Nate found himself torn. 
 As much as he had so very loved kissing the intelligent teen, he also knew that he was only setting himself up for heartbreak. The play—and so the kissing—would come to an end and things would go back to the way they had been. 
 Still, Nate didn’t see why that meant he couldn’t enjoy it while he had the chance. If it had never been for the powers-that-be choosing himself and Logan for Romeo and Juliet, he would never have gotten the chance to feel what it was like to kiss the boy he had liked for so long. 
 The door opened and Nate, a soft, warm smile on his face and insides toasty, looked up to meet Janus’s gaze. Janus, apparently noting the love-sick look on his face, sighed and tugged Remus in by their linked hands before closing the door. 
 “I take it from the revolting look on your face that you talked to Logan?” Nate noted how eager the other sounded. 
 He cleared his throat. 
 “Oh, yeah… yeah, we talked a bit…”
 Nate looked away as Janus narrowed his eyes. 
 “And…?”
 “Ah, and nothing… I just told him I completely understood he was nervous.”
 “Did you tell him how you feel, Nate?”
 Nate had the decency to look sheepish. 
 “Not… exactly…”
 Janus gave him the look that meant he should continue. 
 “But he was very responsive to my kisses.”
 Janus’s eyes widened and Nate felt a rush of pride at causing such a rare phenomenon. It was not often that one surprised Janus Trompeur. 
 “You kissed him?”
 Nate could hear the excitement in his voice. Not wanting a misunderstanding, Nate cleared his throat. 
 “Yeah… I told him it was understandable he was nervous since he’d never been kissed and he came to the conclusion that I was offering to practice with him and so he agreed and we kissed… a lot… and it was so much better than I could have ever imagined.”
 Janus crossed his arms. “Uh huh.”
 “You should have seen Logan too… I’ve… I’ve never seen him like that before… I can safely guarantee it was enjoyed by both parties. He’s also agreed to continue. We’ll have another practice tomorrow.”
 He glanced up at Janus, hoping he would see where he was going with this. 
 The other sighed and winced. 
 “Oh, Nate… you beautiful, dumb idiot… you’re going to try to kiss him in love with you, aren’t you.”
 Nate flashed a grin. 
 “I’m going to kiss him in love with me, Janus!”
 Janus sighed, bringing a hand up to palm his face before he shook his head. 
 “Oh, darling. That’s not going to work if you don’t tell him how you feel.”
 Nate sighed. 
 “Yeah, you should lick his juicy butthole as well!”
 Janus and Nate both glared at Remus, who just cackled and continued to listen. 
 “Nate…”
 Nate threw up his hands in frustration. 
 “Okay, okay! Damn it, I know, Janus. I know.”
 Janus smiled and nodded. 
 “Very good… and….”
 Nate sighed and rolled his eyes but answered dutifully, as expected. 
 “And I promise I will find some time before the play is over to tell him how I feel.”
 Janus flashed a victory smile. 
 “Good. Now, all this dabbling into your love life has made me hungry. Let’s go get dinner.”
 Nate grinned and nodded. Ignoring the return of the sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach, Nate pulled on his coat and joined the other two for dinner.
 »»———— 🕶️ ————««
 Logan wouldn’t say he had grown used to kissing Nate three days into practice, but he would definitely say he had grown comfortable with it. Unfortunately, as Monday came and classes began once more, Logan realized that today would be the first rehearsal. 
 He would have to kiss Nate… but on stage. 
 “I can’t do this, Nate,” he said, his words a little sharp from nerves. Nate just shrugged and nodded at the audience that was currently made up of the rest of their senior class. Unfortunately, that meant the seats were nearly packed and quite a lot of people would be watching. 
 Unlike their parents and faculty, the other students wouldn’t hold back if he were to make an absolute mockery of himself. 
 Suddenly, hands were on his shoulders and he could feel the tightness deep in his bones melting away as strong fingers rubbed into his muscles. 
 “Sorry… I should have asked first… I can stop, if you want me to…”
 Logan shook his head, letting out a little moan of pleasure as his eyes closed. 
 “No… this is… this is acceptable.”
 Logan sighed as he focused on Nate’s hands and the way his muscles relaxed under his touch. By the time his body was completely relaxed, Logan realized he was pressed into Nate in a very intimate way. Stepping forward, he turned to look at Nate, clearing his throat. 
 “Thank you for the massage. I appreciate it.”
 Nate smiled. 
 “Anytime.”
 Logan, noting how amazing his body felt, nodded. “Noted. I might actually take you up on that offer in the future. Now, let’s run the lines once more before we—”
 “Logan. Nate. You two are up.” Remy called, as if bored out of his mind.
 Logan stiffened but gave a sharp nod. Nate returned his hands to Logan’s shoulders as he nodded to his twin. Remy walked off and Nate turned Logan to look at him. 
 “You’ve got this, Logan. You already have all your lines memorized. Literally. Which by the way, think you can help me with that, because I totally do not…”
 Logan laughed, feeling the worry and stress melting away. 
 He turned to look at Nate and smiled. 
 “I have this theory.”
 Nate grinned. “Oh yeah, what’s that?”
 “That you’re going to do a really good job.”
 Nate’s eyes warmed and his smile went soft. Once again, Logan was projecting onto this poor teenager who had no idea what he did to Logan. 
 “Let’s go break some legs, yeah.”
 “I prefer the phrase ‘fracture a femur’ but yes, let’s.”
 Nate laughed deeply and Logan couldn’t help but grin, a little proud of himself for causing such a reaction. 
 »»———— ♞ ————««
 Nate, in character, made his way to his love, tears lingering on his cheeks. He swallowed hard as he took in his ‘dead’ Juliet, rushing to the ‘concrete’ dias where her body lay. Pulling Logan into his arms, he tried his hardest not to look directly at Logan’s face. He didn’t want to cause the other to crack up or break character. 
 Vowing that he would love Juliet and Juliet alone forever, Nate as Romeo took the colored-water ‘poison’ and began to choke. He shuddered and moved to lay beside his lover on the dias. He choked a few more times for good measure, causing students in the audience to laugh before he collapsed once more on the structure and closed his eyes.
 Nate did his very best to look dead. Considering that Nate was lazy by nature and often lounged around, and he was pretty certain Janus would happily tell him to his face he looked like a dead man walking, that was the easiest part of the play. 
 But what would come mere moments later… 
 Nate felt Logan shuffle on the dias, hearing him let out a yawn, signaling to the audience Juliet had woken from her drugged sleep. Unfortunately, Nate could not see what Logan was doing lest he break character but a moment later, he gasped. 
 Logan called for ‘Romeo’ but when Romeo did not rouse—though it was hard because Nate wanted nothing more than to reassure Logan how well he was doing—Juliet cried for her dead husband. 
 Nate felt a shift on the structure and then soft, gentle hands were taking hold of his face. He bit the part of his lower lip still hidden by his closed mouth to keep from grinning. He heard as Logan professed that he would kiss Romeo so that Juliet may be with him.
 Soft but firm lips pressed against his own. Nate couldn’t deny he definitely smiled into the kiss. He could also feel Logan smiling into it. 
 That was when it happened. 
 Logan cracked up laughing and Nate opened his eyes to chuckle as well. 
 “Well, hey there, Julie, baby.”
 “Oh my god, shut up.” Logan said through his laughing.
 Mr. Sanders joined them and laughed. 
 “That was really good… we’ll need to work on the laughing but otherwise… that practice was amazing, everyone! We’ll keep working on the blocking, but just keep running your lines and memorizing them. I think this is actually going to be really, really awesome!”
 Nate glanced at Logan, who was beaming at Mr. S’s praise. 
 He’s so pretty when he smiles. Janus is right. God, I have it bad.
“Yeah, just wait til half of us have to do it in dresses.”
 Nate snorted as he glanced at Janus, who was playing Rosaline. He had a point. Janus, Logan, and Virgil—not to mention a handful of other senior boys—would be wearing dresses for the show. 
 “And I have every faith that you will all rock them,” Mr. Sanders countered, which earned him a grin from Janus. 
 Janus leaned his arm on Remus’s shoulder and shrugged. 
 “I mean, you’re not wrong, Mr. S,” Janus agreed.
 “I know I’m not. Now, you all get out of here and have a great and relaxing night. Logan, that means you.”
 Nate glanced at Logan to see his crush blushing but grinning. Virgil spoke up. 
 “I’ll hold him to it, Mr. S.” 
 Thomas beamed at that. 
 “Good man, Virgil. Alright, see you all tomorrow.”
 Rehearsal ended for the night, Nate turned to Logan. 
 “So… I’m kinda hungry and I’m assuming we’re still on for kissing practice tonight?”
 Logan glanced at him and nodded. 
 “Then let me at the very least get you some dinner. It’s the least I can do after my dumb ass got exiled and you killed yourself over it.”
 “Nathan… it’s a play.”
 “You’re so right. It’s a total power play. You deserve better.”
 Logan snorted at that and hesitated before bringing up a fist to punch him lightly in the shoulder. 
 Nate feigned bodily injury, grabbing his arm. 
 “Oh. You got me. I’m dead.”
 He then pretended to die on the dias, eyes closed, tongue sticking out. 
 It wasn’t until warmth pressed against his cheek that he opened his eyes to see Logan pulling back, face flushed. It was obvious that Logan had just kissed his cheek and Nate, grinning, sat up to look at Logan. 
 Glancing around, he noticed that everyone else had left—well, mostly everyone. Virgil, Remus, Janus, and Patton were talking at the entrance to the backstage area. None of them were looking their way and so Nate, feeling confident, turned his attention back to Logan. 
 Before he could even open his mouth to ask Logan if he could kiss him, Logan claimed his mouth with his own. Nate’s eyes closed and he quickly returned the favor, a soft, happy sound escaping him. 
 Logan placed a hand on his chest as he slid closer, his other reaching up to grip at the little hairs at the back of Nate’s neck. Nate shivered but gasped, Logan quickly taking advantage of this and slipping his tongue inside. 
 Nate moaned, teasing along Logan’s tongue with his own as he kissed back desperately. 
 “Ooooooh,” Janus teased.
 Nate’s eyes opened wide as he and Logan both jumped from the kiss. He quickly glanced toward the backstage but no one was there and all sound of talking had ceased. He would have assumed that the others—seeing what he and Logan were up to—had left but he also knew Janus very well. 
 “That was…”
 “Satisfactory.”
 Nate laughed at that. “Yes, very, very, very satisfactory.”
 He held the other’s gaze and smiled. 
 “So… dinner?”
 Logan rolled his eyes. 
 “Very well. You’re paying.”
 “I wouldn’t have it any other way.”
 »»———— 🕶️ ————««
 Logan fidgeted with his keys in his pocket as he walked with Nate to the cafeteria. The nice thing about the school was that they had little restaurants in the cafeteria, a lot like they did in colleges, instead of what most public schools offered. Unfortunately, as they allowed the students to work there for a wage, Virgil would most definitely be present. 
 He sighed as he realized the long talk Virgil would want to have with him the moment he saw Logan with Nate, already feeling exhausted. 
 “What’s wrong?”
 Logan blinked up at the other. 
 “Huh? Oh, nothing,” Logan lied. It wasn’t a complete lie, per say. Logan was used to Virgil and he never minded talking with his friend. He just didn’t want to hear the ‘I told you so’ from his friend when Virgil realized he hadn’t been limiting the kissing practices as well as he could have. 
 Nate, looking doubtful, frowned. “You sure?”
 Logan laughed softly and nodded. “Yeah… just stressed out about the play but… somehow, I know it’s going to be okay.”
 Nate laughed at that. “That’s the attitude to have, scholar!” 
 Logan smiled, ignoring the slight twinge of guilt he felt at not being completely truthful. Then again, there was no way he could be truthful without informing Nate about how he felt about him, and Logan…
 He just couldn’t bring himself to do it. 
 Maybe it was selfish but, knowing that Nate would suddenly feel awkward and uncomfortable around him once he found out, Logan wanted to enjoy a little more time with him.
 Just the two of them.
 Just like this. 
 They reached the cafeteria and Logan followed Nate to the center of the room. Logan considered the options and was about to go order from where Virgil was working when Nate called out to him. 
 “My treat, so where we eating today?” 
 Logan nodded toward the little taco hut where Virgil stood now, watching them both. Nate, noticing Virgil for the first time, gave a start before grinning. 
 “Oh! Hey, Virgil. What’s up, dude?”
 He moved over to the little taco restaurant and offered his fist, which Virgil bumped but not before snorting and rolling his eyes first. As Logan joined them, Virgil spoke up, not taking his eyes from Logan’s gaze. 
 “Hey, losers. What brings you guys down? Logan, didn’t you say your plan was to do homework tonight?”
 He eyed Logan doggedly, which the intelligent student ignored, instead glancing at the menu though he already knew it by heart. 
 “Oh, that was my fault. After rehearsal I practically begged him to go get dinner with me because I am a sad, lonely guy.”
 Logan watched Virgil closely, surprised at the slight grin slipping onto his face at Nate’s words. 
 “You’re not bad, Lassus. Your brother though… he’s a dick and he still owes me 50 bucks. Now, what can I get you losers to eat?”
 Logan ordered what he always got: the taco plate. Nate, meanwhile, ordered a taco salad. Logan would have been slightly surprised as Nate had never pegged him as a good nutrition aficionado, but then the other asked for double meat and Logan could just sigh fondy and grin. 
 Nate tried to pay but Virgil completely ignored him. Food was placed on two trays and cups added afterward. 
 “On the house,” he said slowly, holding Nate’s gaze as if just trying to goad him into objecting. Nate seemed to realize this because he grinned and held up his hands. 
 “Okay, okay. I got the message.”
 “Finally,” Virgil mumbled but he was grinning ever so slightly. 
 Logan realized that, in his own way, Virgil was approving of Nate. Once Nate took his tray to go find a great table, Logan grinned when his best friend’s eyes met his. 
 “Thank you,” he mouthed. Virgil rolled his eyes but mouthed your welcome before waving in the direction Nate had gone. 
 “He’s not such a total waste of a human, I suppose,” Virgil said finally. “But Logan… if this is something you want… you really need to tell—”
 Logan sighed, cutting off yet another tirade. “I’m aware, V. I promise… I’ll tell him by the last performance.”
 Virgil groaned softly. “You really, really should tell him before that but… fine… look, L. You don’t have to tell him if you don’t want to but… I’m afraid that if you don’t, all of this is going to hurt you a lot more than you realize.”
 Logan wanted to disagree. Unfortunately, he was definitely not an expert on feelings and since Virgil was dating one of the two experts on feelings that they knew, he suspected Virgil likely picked up a few things. 
 “I vow to tell him before the start of our last performance at the latest.”
 “I’ll drink to that compromise… you know, if I had a drink.” He sighed wistfully but Logan knew it was all for the theatrics. Though Virgil would swear up and down that he was not dramatic, Logan—friends with three dramatic people—knew better. He could be just as dramatic as Roman when he wanted to be. 
 Logan grabbed his tray, thanked Virgil once more, and headed for the table on the far side of the large, open room. Virgil called back to him, wishing him good luck, causing Logan to smile softly. 
 Gray eyes sought out his...friend. Logan, ignoring the sudden feeling of sadness, pushed such thoughts out of his head. Sure, Nate would never be his boyfriend, but it was clear he wanted to be friends. Logan would not be the kind of person who couldn’t be friends with someone who did not want to date him. 
 Nate waved his arms wildly, chuckling when Logan’s eyes met his and he corrected his course for Nate’s table. He reached him quickly enough, snorting when Nate tugged him gently to sit next to him, rather than across from him. 
 Logan had expected Nate to talk to him then but, as he quickly learned, Nate was very much an eat-now-talk-after kind of guy. 
 Laughing softly, Logan started to dig in as well. 
 »»———— ♞ ————««
 Nate had eaten about half his food when he turned to Logan. 
 "I don't know about you but kissing sure does work up an appetite." His grin was flirty and eager. 
 Logan blushed and nodded. 
 "Interestingly enough, I have found that as well," Logan said. "I, too, am quite famished."
 He continued to eat as Nate became preoccupied with stuffing his face once more. 
 "Mmmm."
 Nate looked up at the sound of laughter. Logan was watching him eat, amusement in his gray gaze.
 "Adequate to your taste buds?" Logan asked with another laugh. 
 Nate looked at him and answered, a bit of food still in his mouth. 
 "Beyond adequate," he moaned. "Thank Virgil again for me later." 
 Logan laughed. 
 "Will do."
 They fell into companionable silence once more, Nate glancing at Logan every so often. Every other time he glanced, he caught Logan's gaze and both of them blushed before looking away. 
 Huh.
 Wasn't that interesting. 
 Deciding he needed more time to consider the new development, Nate cleared his throat. 
 "So… what new book are you reading? I just picked up this great Agatha Christie novel that I'm sure you've read already but it's so good."
 Logan blinked. He looked confused and even said as much. 
 "How do you know I read Agatha Christie novels?"
 Nate laughed at that. Looking fondly at Logan, he smiled. "Scholar. You've been reading those books since we all started here. I noticed them and started reading a few myself."
 Logan’s brows rose and while he didn't say anything, Nate knew exactly what that look was for. 
 "Yes. I read. Shocker, right?"
 Logan's expression took on an apologetic sort of look and Nate laughed. 
 "No no. You're fine, cutie. I'm used to people being surprised. In their defense and yours, I don't read a lot. But I can and do read."
 Logan nodded, a grin slipping onto his face as he turned to look at him better, leaning in eagerly. 
 "So which book is it that you're reading?"
 "Death on the Nile."
 Logan nodded with a grin. 
 "That one is very good but my favorite will always be—"
 "The Murder of Roger Ackroyd," Nate finished for him with a warm smile. 
 Logan blinked. He stared at Nate for a few moments, questions in those gray eyes. Nate was worried that maybe he had said too much. 
 Maybe Logan realized that Nate really liked him and now it was going to be awkward because Logan didn't feel the same. 
 And then Logan blushed and nodded. A soft smile slipped onto his face.
 "Precisely."
 Nate grinned as the slight charge between them in that moment settled. He didn't know what had happened but it hadn't sent Logan running and he considered that a win on his part. 
 They finished dinner and said their goodbyes to Virgil before heading out of the cafeteria for Nate’s dorm. 
 »»———— 🕶️ ————««
 Logan was quiet on the walk to Nate’s dorm room. He knew that Nate had to be wondering at his silence but he couldn’t bring himself to speak just yet. 
 The reason for his silence...
 There had been a moment while eating with Nate that had opened his eyes to knowledge he hadn’t been aware he had lacked. 
 Logan didn’t know how he knew it but the moment Nate supplied Logan’s favorite Agatha Christie novel as fact and not a guess had been very telling and Logan was almost certain that Nate liked him. A lot. 
 Perhaps even as much as Logan liked Nate. 
 Just tell him! You know he likes you now! Tell him!
 He knew that his more logical side was right. At this point, with such a high probability of his feelings being reciprocated, the logical course of action would be to tell him. 
 And yet, Logan couldn’t. 
 He couldn’t even give a logical explanation as to why, which frustrated him more than anything. It just didn’t feel like the right time. Or the right place. 
 Logan chewed his lip. 
 He really hated relying on his feelings. 
 “Hey… half-dollar for your thoughts?”
 Logan blinked up at the other. He seemed nervous. Logan smiled at him. 
 “I’m certain the expression is ‘penny for your thoughts’.”
 Nate grinned at that, seeming to relax once more. 
 “Yeah, well. Pennies are practically worthless these days and I think more highly of the things that come out of your beautiful brain.”
 Logan blushed at that and cleared his throat. 
 “Just have a lot on my mind.”
 Nate nodded, falling silent once more. 
 Logan bit his lip before moving a little closer to the other. He tapped him with his elbow in a playful manner he’d seen Virgil do with Patton. It seemed to work because Nate grinned down at him like the sun. 
 “Hey.”
 Logan wanted to make up for the silence and since he couldn’t tell him everything… not yet...Logan said the first thing he could think of. 
 “I can’t wait for practice.”
 Then he blushed as he realized the implications of this. Nate looked at him in surprise, a slight flush to his cheeks as he slowly grinned. 
 “Uh oh…”
 Logan raised a brow. He hadn’t expected that reaction. “What?”
 “Looks like someone has an addiction to kisses.”
 Logan blushed but rolled his eyes. 
 “You are what my friend Roman would call ‘an absolute dork’.”
 Nate snorted. 
 “Roman Prince? Not surprised that’s his idea of an insult but, well, you're not wrong.”
 Logan grinned, pleased to feel the air around them grow comfortable once more. 
 “But… I concede that, perhaps, you are not wrong as well.”
 Nate grinned at him. 
 “About what?” he pressed. Logan glared at him. Nate took on a look of innocence. “I merely want to be clear about what part of what I said was not wrong.”
 Logan knew that wasn’t the case. Nate wanted to hear him say it. He decided that since he couldn’t outright tell him how he felt, the least he could do was tell him what he wanted to hear. 
 It was true, after all. 
 “I am… addicted to kisses.”
 He blushed far deeper than he expected to confess that out loud. He stopped and quickly hid his face in his hands. Nate must have glanced back and noticed he had stopped before quickly returning to him. 
 “Awww. No, no… I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to embarrass you… I was just teasing. Can I… can I hug you?”
 Logan nodded but did not remove his hands from his burning face. He felt as strong arms embraced him. He stayed like that, feeling safe and secure in his arms. At some point, he pulled his hands away to press his face into the other’s chest, his own arms wrapping tentatively around the taller teen’s middle. 
 “How’s that? Better, cutie?” 
 Logan nodded, trying to ignore how warm the nickname made him.
 “Do you want to postpone the practice? If you need to, then that’s totally—”
 “No!”
 Nate blinked down at the other in surprise. Logan could see that his reaction had been a bit too passionate considering Nate had no idea how he felt about him.
 “I mean, no… I very much would like to keep on schedule.” 
 Nate slowly grinned. 
 “Then what better time to start… Can I kiss you right here, Logan? Right now?”
 Logan had a feeling Nate was expecting him to laugh and playfully punch him before they continued on their course for his room. 
 That was not what happened. 
 Logan moved his arms from around him. He then threw himself at Nate, wrapping his arms around his neck, as he kissed him. Hard. 
 Nate’s eyes widened but soon fluttered closed as he tightened his hold on the slighter teen, kissing back as desperately as Logan kissed him. 
 When they finally pulled away—it was with some difficulty breathing, Logan couldn’t deny—he swallowed hard and held the other’s gaze. Nate’s gaze was curious.
 “Nate…” Logan said slowly. He saw the slight surprise on the other’s face. Logan had never called him Nate before.
 “Logan…” 
 Logan hesitated. He very much needed to tell Nate or he would always be wondering ‘what if’? As a scientific minded individual, what ifs were only useful if the question was answered. Logan needed some answers.
 “Can we… can we go somewhere quiet… your room is fine… but just somewhere with not a lot of people… please?”
 Nate, obviously confused, nodded.
 “Yeah… we’re almost to my room anyway. Come on.”
 Logan’s insides churned and tumbled as he walked at Nate’s side. He honestly had no idea what had possessed him to almost tell Nate how he felt… outside. 
 That… that definitely was not the place for such intimate talks such as that. No. One should take the person of their affections, ask to speak with them in private, and only for their ears, share what was in their heart. 
 Logan nearly made a face. 
 When had he become so sentimental?
 He glanced up at Nate and slowly, a fond smile slipped over his lips. 
 Oh, yeah. Right.
 They reached Nate’s dorm room soon after, Nate holding up a finger before walking inside, signaling Logan to wait. Logan, considering himself fairly intelligent, was sure Nate wanted to make certain Janus (and by proxy, Remus) was not around. 
 He waited as patiently as he could, rubbing his fingers against his jeans in a comforting manner. Soon enough, though it felt a lot longer to Logan, Nate returned and held the door for him. 
 “Come on in, scholar.”
 Logan did just that, almost jumping at the click of the door as Nate closed it behind them. He then led Logan into the room, making his way to the bed and taking a seat. He patted the space next to him. Logan took a deep breath, crossed the room to the bed, and took the offered seat. 
 He quickly turned to Nate just as Nate turned toward him. 
 “Logan, there’s something I need to tell you,” Nate said at the exact same time Logan said, “Nate, there’s something I wish to tell you.”
 Both of them broke out laughing, their faces flushed, gazes vulnerable. 
 Nate cleared his throat and held out his hands, palms up, to Logan. 
 “May I?” he asked, voice low. Logan nodded, placing his hands into Nate’s.
 Nate, dark eyes locked with Logan’s, bit his lip before smiling. 
 “That’s better… now… I’m sorry for jumping the gun. You… you go first.”
 Logan wanted to refuse or insist Nate go, but he decided that that wasn’t fair to Nate. He had been the one asking to talk. He should go first.
 He nodded. 
 Taking a deep breath, Logan for the first time in his life ignored his mind and spoke from his heart.
 »»———— ♞ ————««
 Nate squeezed Logan’s hands as the other seemed to search for the courage needed to say what he had to. 
 Nate knew what he hoped Logan wanted to say. He hoped more than anything that Logan had come to realize that he liked Nate too. But, that could just as easily not be what Logan wanted to tell him. Maybe he had noticed that Nate liked him and was being respectful, letting him down in private. 
 Maybe he just wanted to be friends. 
 Nate could live with that. It would hurt for a while, but he could deal. 
 As long as it wasn’t Logan never wanting to see him again, Nate could live with whatever it was the other was about to tell him. He sighed inwardly and instead focused on Logan. 
 Logan, who was struggling. 
 Nate squeezed his hands again. 
 “Hey,” he said and waited until Logan’s eyes met his. “Whatever it is, you won’t scare me away.” He paused. “Unless you dress up as a clown on the weekend… then I’d say my loyalty is questionable…”
 Logan laughed at that and it seemed to be the reassurance he needed. He cleared his throat and Nate leaned in subconsciously.
 “... You were correct earlier… when you said I was addicted to kisses… I am very much addicted to kisses…” 
 He glanced down at their hands and seemed to consider what to say next. Nate watched him closely, mesmerized by him. 
 “I am addicted to your kisses, Nate…”
 Nate blushed and a big grin slipped onto his face as it hit him. 
 Logan liked him. And Nate was him. Nate. Logan liked Nate. 
 “Are you saying-?!!”
 Logan laughed at that and nodded, blushing a little himself. 
 “I like you, Nate. I have for a very long time.”
 Nate whistled and shook his head. 
 “Well, that just sucks because I’ve liked you for a very long time too. Since we first met, now that I think about it. It feels like we’ve missed out on so much time.”
 Logan blinked at the remark and nodded a second later when it registered what Nate meant.
 “It does. But we’re here now… together...”
 Nate beamed and his excitement soon morphed into unbridled adoration. 
 “Be my Juliet… but alive… and forever?”
 Logan snorted. “There are so many things wrong with that question, Nate, but I like you, so I forgive you. I will be your boyfriend, though, if that would be agreeable with—”
 “Yes! So freaking agreeable! Totally agreeable!”
 Nate watched in wonder as Logan laughed, not holding back, his gray eyes full of happiness and fondness as he looked upon Nate. He couldn’t keep from surging forward and claiming Logan’s lips with his own. 
 Logan relaxed into the kiss with ease, his arms wrapping around Nate’s neck like they’d never stopped. Nate moaned into the kiss as Logan kissed back eagerly, sounds of enjoyment escaping him as well. 
 When they broke for air, Nate nuzzled into Logan’s hair with his nose before pressing a kiss to his temple. 
 “Boyfriend,” he said, overjoyed to use the title for Logan. 
 Logan rolled his eyes, blushing. “Dork.”
 Nate brought a hand to his heart as if he had been hurt. He then swooned and ‘collapsed’ upon his bed. Logan laughed and then shifted to hover over him. 
 “Let’s keep this between us… just until after the play… Virgil has been trying to get me to tell you forever and I really do not need to deal with any I told you so’s… and maybe, I also would not mind keeping you to myself for a little bit longer.”
 Nate snorted. “Oh. You can always have me to yourself. I don’t mind picking Janus up by the collar and tossing him out if need be… uh, but maybe don’t quote me on that. Still, keeping up a ruse sounds fun. I’m in.”
 Logan smiled down at him and Nate brought a hand up to frame his face, guiding him down to kiss him.
 If they got lost in the kisses and each other, neither minded in the slightest.
-----------------------------------------------
Disclaimer: I am not affiliated with Thomas Sanders or Joan, nor the rest of their group. I do not own or make money off of these characters. I only own the story as it is written.
Super uber thanks to my beta reader for this fic @superweebside​ and the two that preread my stuff to make sure its up to par: @romantichopelessly & @sunshineandteddybears.
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writing-in-april · 4 years ago
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Shining Bright Above You
Spencer Reid x Male Reader
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Summary: Spencer finally gets to go out with his boyfriend after getting out of prison and gets to see the light despite the overwhelming darkness.
A/N: Hey guys! This is my twenty-first fic for my 30 fics in 30 days for April. This ones one of my favorites I’ve ever written and is based on this request and is also inspired by some stuff @ontheoddoccasioniwritestuff sent to me for inspiration. I know x male reader fics don’t do good in fandom (which is a crying shame) but there’s still a large portion of people it applies to that read fanfic so please share it around so it might reach them!! Inclusivity in fanfic is important and I’ve heard multiple people get very discouraged they don’t see more fics that represent them- so please help bring more inclusivity in fandom!!! My ask box is open for nice anons only- here- if I see a shred of homophobia I will curb stomp you (I will not have a debate about it in my inbox) BUT please don’t be afraid to point out if I made a mistake in terms of the gender of the reader (this is not an open invitation to critique the rest of the fic)Thanks for reading and hope y’all enjoy!
Warnings: Mentions of homophobia & the prison arc & subtle hints at a soulmate au (which is funny I wrote it like that because I don’t read soulmate fics lol)- otherwise its super fluffy 🥰
Main Masterlist Word Count: 1.6k
Time was just a construct created by humans to understand how we moved forward in the universe, and even though I was exaggerating it had felt like a million years since I had been out with Spencer. Prison had already made it hard to see him, with all the pat downs and checks only to still be separated by a plexiglass wall. On top of that, Spencer had only let me visit once, until he saw eyes leering at me with some uttering slurs underneath their breath.
It wasn’t until he was freed that I could see him again, and in the flesh as well. I remember our first hug after he had been released, both of us practically soaking our clothes with tears that didn’t seem to stop. For Spencer, it had even taken along time to convince him that I was real, and that I was safe- there would be no homophobic prisoners coming to attack us in the night.
Spencer didn’t like the night, one of his worst fears was the darkness and night was when the shadowy parts of his mind came out to play. Oftentimes I’d find him in other parts of the apartment at night, with all the lights on, the bed was no longer a place of comfort. One night I had pulled him to the couch, lights all flicked on and a nature documentary playing softly. When I had brought his head into my lap to stroke his fluffy locks that were still beautiful even though they were still damaged from the prison soap, he had fallen asleep a lot easier. Since then the couch has become our bed. Though I did not mind because he kicked and cried less in the night, and even when he did, it was easier to hold him.
The night was a scary place for Spencer, except when the stars shone bright. That’s why when I had remembered one of our favorite past dates, at the observatory, I immediately called in a favor. We had the place to ourselves tonight, sure it cost me more money than I’d ever spent before on a date. It had been ages, a million years it seemed like since we went out in public, so the price was worth it. It was all for Spencer, to make the night good for him again.
Though I definitely loved looking at the bright balls of gas up above I much preferred to rest my gaze on Spencer’s eyes. Spencer’s eyes often reminded me of the stars, not because of their color- but because of the slight twinkle that they got every time he was happy. The twinkle in my opinion rivaled the brightness of the stars with ease.
Normally I could listen to Spencer rambling on about facts all day, being completely entranced by his phrasing. But, his eyes had entranced me this time. I was no longer thinking about the black holes that he was rambling about, but how lucky I was. How lucky I was to see that twinkle in his eye and get to kiss him at the same time?
I could’ve been born at any point throughout space and time, to see any number of amazing things across the universe. But, I was put here standing next to Spencer. Just two specks of stardust ready to be in this world together. However insignificant life could seem in the grander scheme of things- however small we could both seem, I wouldn’t want to be next to any other speck of stardust nor be placed at any point in space and time.
“And no particles or even electromagnetic radiation such as light—can escape from it.” I caught the last part of what he said as he finished his mini rant about black holes. Thinking about light being swallowed up and being crushed into oblivion it made me think of Spencer again, it was a sad thought, though it was filled with hope.
I thought about all the darkness that had tried to consume Spencer throughout the years. Most recently prison had been the thing that tried to stomp the light out of him. It was nice to see that light that had dimmed sparkle a little brighter tonight. Even though we have been dating for a long time I felt myself filled with a small amount of happiness knowing that I was at least part of the reason the sparkle in his eye was bright tonight.
“You ok?” Spencer piped up, looking at me with concern.
“The stars are bright tonight.”
He looked a little confused at my seemingly somewhat random statement, he still looked back up at the stars. On the inside I wished he’d kept his bright glinting gaze upon me, then he confirmed my statement, “Yes, yes they are.”
“You’re still shining brighter.” Even after all this time I still had the capabilities to make Spencer blush. Every time he did so I was reminded of the stuttering boy I had met all those years ago. When he had first approached me in the library so long ago to ask me if I was finished with a book I had set down to the side, he was instantly just as endearing to me as he is now.
It had been such a different time then, it seemed almost like another lifetime. We had been through so much together, I often thought the universe might have some vendetta against us. Though logically the universe wouldn’t be so concerned with two small specks of stardust such as ourselves. Either way, whatever was truly out there in the unknown, there’s no place I’d rather be.
A piece of paper, folded carefully so the creases would be neat, was burning a hole through my slacks. It was a small gift in the grander scheme of things, a blip on anyone else’s radar. This held more meaning for us than just some novelty gift people buy.
His eyes were back on the stars, observing them with such intensity that I hadn’t even seen the astronomer Spencer had introduced me to last time we were here. Spence craved the light above him- who was I to deny him if I could give it to him?
It may have not been plucking the stars out of the sky for him to cuddle in his arms in a literal sense. I couldn’t buy all the stars in the sky, the website didn’t allow that. I could give him one though, one that was brighter than any others they had for sale.
“I-I have something for you.” I stuttered, which had Spencer looking at me with suspicion; he was the stutterer when nervous, not normally me.
Spencer’s eyes were on me now, not the stars, though he looked at me with the same reverence as he did when gazing up at the Milky Way. The same way I always did.
My hands were shaky when I pulled out the folded paper, carefully undoing the creases to present him the certificate of ownership for a star. Spencer steadied them with his fingers wrapping around my wrists. They were long and spindly, just made in a certain way that made me always want to kiss the tips of them as I did so often.
He then took the paper from my hands, even though I wanted to be greedy and take the warmth from his hands that the paper was stealing. I cleared my throat before telling him what the folded paper was, still nervous over a simple sheet of paper,“It’s our star.”
Somehow his eyes gleamed ever brighter because of how the tears that were now welling up in his eyes refracted the light even more. He wiped them a little, so he could scan the paper over to read the certificate that to most people meant nothing.
“It’s so we can have a little bit more light in our life.” I chewed on my bottom lip after I finished giving him my reasoning for the gift, nervous about his reaction. His hands were shaking now, as were mine, though for different reasons.
If my brain was thinking logically I’d realize he’d love anything I have to him, he’d probably even treasure a vial of sand. “You’re all the light I need” He then pulled me into his lips by grasping at my cheeks, the paper still in his hands brushing up against them accidentally. The only people here to see the light between us was a mingling curious janitor. It didn’t matter who was watching, I only needed one person to be here, Spencer. And, every time I was in his presence I always stopped to think, there’s no place I’d rather be. There’s no one else I’d rather be attached to, no one else I want to call me their boyfriend. He’s my home and my light just as much as I am his.
There’s an old Buddhist saying that, when you meet your soulmate, remember that the act to bring you together was 500 years in the making. So always appreciate and be kind to one another. I don’t know how much I put stock in the idea of soulmates, or the universe having some illogical vendetta against us, or the possibility of a being greater than humankind. I did know however, that if there was anyone in the world that I could possibly be soulmates with, it would be Spencer Reid. I’d spend the rest of my days comforting him from the darkness, happily showing him the specks of light in between that ultimately would defeat the swirling pools of black.
Ask Me Anything
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thechangeling · 4 years ago
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Shame
Kit reflects on his life and his sexual orientation. I guess this is kind of a character study peice but also partly headcanon.
Ok so massive trigger warnings for internalized homophobia and biphobia. Also a 2012 definition and understanding of bisexuality and gender sk sorry about that but I wanted to be accurate to the time period.
I still have a lot of internalized homophobia even in the year of our lord 2021 so I wanted to work through it in my writing I guess.
"I think you're only fighting for the sake of fighting. Because it's the only state in which you can function. The only way to stop that voice in your head from driving you insane. The one telling you that you should be ashamed of yourself for having loved him."
- Black Sails: Season 2 Episide 5
Kit could remember the first time he felt it as clear as day. The first time he felt that twinge at the pit of his stomach after being reprimanded for talking about his crush on a boy. The inward cringe that followed. That disgust others showed him, reflected back onto himself.
Self loathing became as easy as breathing at such a young age.
He could distinctly remember being in mundane first grade and being asked by a loud girl with light blond hair and crystal blue eyes who he had a crush on. Kit had seen no reason to lie at the time. He had told the girl that he had two crushes. One on a girl in their class who was shy and asocial (he had always had a thing for nerds apparently) with her jet black hair that was always full of hello kitty clips, and another on a boy in a different class who was blond like him with a round face and a giant friendly smile that Kit loved to stare at.
At the time he had no real sense of the seriousness of what he was saying. No sense that he was breaking an unspoken rule in the eyes of his classmates. But Kit would never forget the look on the girls face. The eyes that narrowed in distain, the curled lip and the way her nose crinkled in disgust as she she said, "boys arent supposed to have crushes on boys. That's gross." And the cackling laughter of his classmates surrounding him.
And the feeling that followed, the one that would become as familiar and easy as breathing.
Shame.
That pinch in his gut and the way his blood went cold like someone had just injected him with antifreeze. And then the sinking in his chest accompanied by the realization that he had done something terrible. Kit realized that day that he could never make that same mistake again. So after that day he vowed never to talk about his interest in boys ever again.
The first time he heard the word gay he was eight and it was as an insult. It wasn't directed at him but it still felt like it was. He learned to make the connection between the word and disgust and contempt. But as he grew older he became relieved, because he knew he liked girls. He had always thought they were pretty with their soft skin and nice smelling hair. This meant he wasn't gay so he was safe. He convinced himself that he had just been confused before when he was younger.
So he grew up pushing those feelings to the side and telling himself convincing lies over and over until he finally believed it, and Johnny Rook made it easy. Kit was often so preoccupied with running cons and keeping a low profile that he didn't have much time for self reflection. When he found his gaze wandering, he told himself he was just being curious or suspicious or just appreciating an attractive guy from a purely aesthetic point of view and there was absolutely nothing else to it. He kissed pretty girls whenever he had the chance and enjoyed it and relished in the fact that this meant he was safe.
From an outside perspective it may have looked like Kit Herondale was losing control of the situation.
Maybe they were right.
Tiberius Nero Blackthorn felt like a giant fuck you from the universe for believing that he could ever escape this. Or maybe he was a test. But whatever Ty was, it was a little hard to care when he was animatedly explaining the reproductive cycle of a starfish and beaming at Kit with his rare carefree smile that made Kit feel like he was drowning in bliss.
And despite everything. Despite Kit's fear, it made him want to smile too. The urge to reach out and touch Ty was like a burning in his veins, accompanied by the foolish belief that if Kit could just run his fingers through Ty's matted black hair or press his forehead against his, then everything would be alright.
Kit wasn't sure if he should be grateful or furious.
"How beautiful" had been his first thought upon seeing him. Slipping out of some deep treacherous part of him before he could stop it. Followed of course by the shame.
But he wasn't gay. It didn't matter that Ty was beautiful and captivating and made him feel like he was strong enough to fight the gods themselves given the challenge. It didn't mean anything. He was just confused.
And when Julian made a comment about Herondales having a certain type when he called Clary hot, he ignored the twisting of his insides and the painful fact that his thoughts were drifting off into forbidden territory. He pretended that he was what Julian said he was. What he was supposed to be.
When Livvy had asked him to kiss her it felt like a lifeline. A way to distract himself from all the chaos in his life as well as a way to take his mind off of Ty. A pretty girl was giving him something to cling onto, if only for a moment. He still paused to look upwards. An automatic reflex. Almost as if he was a magnet trying to snap back into it's original place.
Livvy kissed him and although it was nice and sweet, he still felt nothing. Only longing for something else.
Then he learned about Kieran and how he was basically Mark's ex boyfriend. He had been sure that Mark was dating Emma so he asked Livvy about it. She had given him a confused look and just said that Mark was bisexual.
Bisexual.
He had heard the word before, mostly to describe celebrities who wanted to make a name for themselves in the tabloids. Kit had always quickly dismissed it before he could allow himself to actually ponder the idea. It was safer to assume it wasn't actually real, because if it wasn't real then it couldn't be him. He wouldn't have to face up to the fact that an attraction to men and women sounded uncomfortably accurate and familiar.
Bisexual. It gnawed at him in his sleep. Poking at his insides and refusing to let him forget it. And so Kit clued his eyes shut and squirmed his way out if it. He thought of the way Ty's smoke coloured eyes seemed to bore into Kit's soul. The sharp angles of his cheekbones and curve of his cupid's bow. Kit thought of the way Ty had asked if he could give Kit a permanent rune and when Kit had answered sarcasticly, Ty's crestfallen expression had horrified him to the point where Kit had practically begged Ty to do it.
Anything to get that look off Ty's face. But it wasn't like that he reminded himself. It wasn't love. It wasn't love.
Jesus. Love. Just the idea of the word sent Kit into a blind panic. And there was that old familiar feeling curling around his gut. That same disgust. That shame.
Not towards Ty. No of course not. He could never feel that way about Ty, or Mark or Kieran or Helen or Aline or anyone else because they didn't deserve it.
But he did. He always did.
When Livvy was killed, Kit almost felt a sense of relief because at least now he had something else to focus on, something g else to worry about. If he was focused on protecting Ty from his own worst instincts then he wouldn't have time to get list I'm thoughts he shouldn't be having.
He knew this made him a selfish horrible person. Kit accepted it.
Kit knew this plan of Ty's was a reckless and horrible idea but he just couldn't stand to see him in pain. He also couldn't bare the thought if what might happen if he refused to help Ty. Also he was helpless in the face of Ty's pleading gaze. Deep down Kit knew that he would probably do anything for him.
He would break himself trying to put Ty back together.
It wasn't until Ty actually attempted the spell that Kit finally cracked. He couldn't let Ty go through with this. He couldn't risk it.
Why? Something inside of him pondered.
Why?
Because Kit was going to die if something happened to Ty. The spell was going to go bad and Ty was going to get hurt or killed and Kit's heart was going to be brutally ripped from his chest and it was going to be unbearable.
Because-
"I love you Ty," he breathed, hating himself instantly. "I love you."
Ty didn't respond. He didn't react, didnt even flinch. Just stared blankly at Kit.
Shame.
It was going to ruin him. It was going to swallow him whole.
Yikes that was kinda all over the place sorry.
I'm basically tagging all if my mutuals at this point. Let me know if you want me to stop tagging you. @scrat-is-god @playwithravenclaw @lavender-scented-rat @knifescythe @ti-bae-rius @irene-blacxthorn @dianasarrow @doitforthecarstairs @jazzkaurtheglorious @waterlillies @zfoxdraws @julieandthefandoms @older-brother-kit @anxiousbookenthusiast @ilikebooks8 @nott-the-best @stxr-thxif @magnus-the-fabulous-entp-bane @autumnangel20 @hufflepuffyskam
Also let me know if you want to be added!
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gamerwoo · 4 years ago
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[The Pack Next Door] Mingi: Friends with Benefits (Part One)
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(photo edit courtesy of @songmingki​)
Characters: Mingi x female reader
Genre/warnings: werewolf au, fwb au, friends to lovers au, fluff, a lil bit of angst but it’s so tiny it’s fine
Word count: 1,774
Summary: Growing up, you and Mingi were inseparable. You’d been friends your entire life and, as far as you knew, things were never any different. But what you don’t know is that Mingi imprinted on you when he was 15 and first turned into a werewolf, and he had been trying to keep it a secret ever since. And with the awful timing of mating season, he’s hoping he can somehow keep the facade up.
a/n: so reader is written to be taller and to be not straight soooooo yeah just a heads up lmao
Tags: @sakura-uji​ @xummie​ 
Next | Friends with Benefits Masterlist
By far, Mingi was the first in his pack to imprint. Hell, he imprinted before he even found his pack. And he couldn’t tell if it was insanely good luck or absolutely shitty luck that his mate was right by his side the whole time.
You had known Mingi since you could remember. He lived across the street from you when you were both growing up, and you would often go outside to play with him. Your parents and his parents basically raised you together as friends, and you were inseparable ever since. You couldn’t even remember a time you didn’t know Mingi.
It was no surprise you grew up to be more of a ‘one of the boys’ type person. You tagged along with Mingi all throughout elementary school and most of middle school. His friends were your friends, and vice versa. Really, the only time you weren’t with him was when you both decided to go out for the soccer team, and you found out that there were separate teams for boys and girls -- you stuck with the sport while Mingi quit after one season because he was only put on the team because they needed the numbers.
It was middle school that your parents were betting you and Mingi would become sweethearts because it was around that time that kids started realizing that the other gender wasn’t so awful. People your age were bragging about holding hands and having their first kisses, and you were too busy kicking Mingi’s ass at soccer to really pay much attention to any of that. But Mingi was starting to get pressured by some of the guys he was friends with at the time because he was the only one of them who hadn’t kissed a girl yet.
“What?” you snorted when he told you. “That’s a dumb thing to be worried about.”
“Aren’t you?” he wondered, sitting in the grass beside you at the edge of the soccer field.
“No,” you shrugged. “Well...I mean, some of the girls have been being kinda mean lately and saying it’ll never happen.”
“Why?”
“I’m not girly.”
Mingi nodded. He already knew there were some girls who picked on you for being more masculine sometimes -- you didn’t get into makeup when everyone did, you didn’t dress in the same clothing that was considered ‘trendy’ or whatever, and you had more male friends than female friends. It was something he thought was stupid to get teased for, but both of you knew you couldn’t do much about it. You’d come to terms with the fact that means girls were just mean girls for no reason. Besides, what did you care what they thought?
Mingi stared at his knees as he thought. He was a little unsure of the idea that popped into his head, but he knew he could say anything to you and you wouldn’t think any differently of him.
“Well...” he began slowly, unable to look at you because of the blush that was suddenly rushing to his cheeks, “we could always...kiss each other...?”
You whipped your head around to look at him, “What?”
“What?” he asked defensively, squinting against the sun to finally look at you. “It was just a suggestion!”
You shoved at his leg before pushing yourself to get up from the grass, “You’re my best friend, though. That would be weird.”
“Yeah, but people would leave us alone.”
“But you also told Jaehyun before that you’d rather lick the bathroom floor than kiss me.”
“Yeah, but people would leave us alone.”
You scoffed, shaking your head, “Look, if your friends are bothering you that much, why don’t you ask Kim Naeun to kiss you? She has a crush on you.”
That definitely got him to brighten up, “She does?!”
But of course, it didn’t last. And neither did the teasing. By the time you were in high school, you had changed a little, those around you had grown up a lot, and feelings had changed -- specifically when Mingi turned 15.
You were still into soccer and you were still a tomboy, but you had also decided you liked wearing eyeliner. You typically dressed in ripped jeans and beanies, but you now wore those clothes to fit your body better rather than choosing the baggiest clothing you could find. And at first, Mingi thought maybe that was the reason he was slowly starting to see you in a different light. And maybe that was it at first. But while things were a little different for you, they were really different for him.
It was some random day freshman year that Mingi shifted. The problem was that his pack was nowhere near close to finding him, and Mingi was also somewhat of an ‘early bloomer’ since most werewolves didn’t first shift until they were 16. So Mingi was left to his own devices to figure out how to calm himself down enough to shift back, and then get some answers.
He was missing for four days. Search parties were out looking for him, you were spamming his phone and every form of social media he had, and his parents across the street had never been so distressed. It was the first time ever that you didn’t have Mingi by your side, and truthfully, you were lost.
But then you got a call that he was back, and you told his parents you’d be right there. You ditched school and ran all the way to his house, knocking on the door and practically bouncing on the balls of your feet as you waited for someone to open the door.
And there was Mingi.
As soon as his eyes landed on you, he felt the imprinting pull hit him like a truck. He’d never felt anything more than platonically for you -- well, other than the fact he might’ve been physically attracted to you before everything happened -- so the fact he suddenly felt this overwhelming romantic love for you was almost scary to him. It was like the world stopped and he gained tunnel vision where he only saw you. He wasn’t sure what it was, either, but he assumed it had something to do with whatever the hell was happening to him.
What he didn’t know was that you felt it, too. You just felt it at a smaller scale than he did. And maybe that was why tears welled in your eyes when you looked at him, because you were hit with how much you loved and cared for him, and you threw your arms around him and yelled at him to never scare you like that again.
And as he hesitantly and shakily put his arms around you, he mumbled, “I promise.”
Of course, Mingi did manage to find out he was a werewolf thanks to the internet. The websites he found seemed to be run by crazy people, only for him to realize that everything they said was true for him, at least. So when he read what imprinting was and what it meant, he realized that meant you were his soulmate; you were the person he was destined to spend the rest of his life with. And that wasn’t necessarily a bad thing, there was just one teeny tiny issue...
You had a girlfriend now.
The summer between eighth grade and freshman year, you were a little confused about your sexuality and decided to explore some things. Ultimately, at the beginning of freshman year, you began dating a girl named Song Daehee who even Mingi got along really well with. So he couldn’t even be mad at your girlfriend for the situation because he liked her. The only thing he could be mad at was fate. But he knew you were meant to be with him, so he knew if he waited, you would come to him. So he waited.
And waited.
And waited.
And waited.
By the time you and Daehee broke up, you were already in college and he had found his pack -- who he introduced to you as his new friends from college, and you thought they were hilarious. And during that time that he was waiting, he had’t even told you what he really was. He never explained what happened when he ran away when he was fifteen, and he told his pack they couldn’t tell you anything, either.
“But she’s your best friend,” San had stated when Mingi first told them -- despite not being the youngest, he was the last to be added to the pack. “Why wouldn’t you want to tell her?”
“Do you tell all of your friends?” he quipped.
“But she’s your mate,” Seonghwa pointed out.
Honestly, at this point, it seemed too late to tell you. It had been so long since he ran away before that he wasn’t sure when or how to tell you now. He’d known for so long, so wouldn’t you be mad that he never told you? Not only that, but would you think any less of him? He was never afraid to say anything to you, but now he was so unsure of everything. He was some mythical monster now.
That fear hung onto him all the way up until now. The two of you were still friends, he was still tall, and while you didn’t play soccer for school anymore, it was something the two of you still often did in his backyard despite the fact he never got any better than he did in sixth grade. You were taller, you still never wore skirts or dresses, and you had perfected your eyeliner technique but didn’t really wear any more makeup than you used to.
And still, from that day he came home when he was 15, Mingi seemed to fall more and more in love with you. He loved how you always wore backwards baseball caps, and how you still made strange decisions without completely thinking them through -- like when you shaved half your head before high school graduation, or when you got your tongue pierced just to take the piercing out a week later because it gave you a lisp. He loved how you had slowly found yourself and he had gotten to see all of it ever since you two were kids. He loved how you were unapologetically yourself, and he loved that he had you as his best friend even if sometimes that hurt him.
What he didn’t really love, though, was that after all these years of loving you, you were still oblivious to everything.
So some things had changed, but most things hadn’t.
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catharsis-in-a-bottle · 4 years ago
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A very long post about romantic attraction, social situations, sexual orientation, etc.
In short, a slightly organized brain dump involving some of my personal experiences and hopefully some takeaways. 
There are many things I’ve learned, both in general and about myself, simply by investigating online resources about the acespec and arospec communities.
Some of these were things that I think I already knew internally, but that I had never voiced before because I didn’t have the words or the terms to describe them. 
I’ve learned about different types of attraction, and I’ve realized that I can categorize them internally. For example, I’ve definitely mistaken platonic attraction with romantic attraction in the past. The term ‘squish’ - basically a sort of friend crush - can be applied to several of my experiences, and honestly, it really explains my conscious disconnect towards romance. I’ve realized that wanting to get to know someone better does not equate wanting to date them.
I’ve learned about other arospec identities, like greyromantic and demiromantic, and how they might apply to me. I’ve realized that my romantic attraction has essentially been limited to one person, and that otherwise my desires have been platonic - again, wanting to get to know someone better because I find them interesting, or else having a deep admiration/respect for them. None of these things are romantic attraction, and it’s been very relieving to discover this. It makes sense. 
I think I’ve always had a weird feeling towards all the societal cues and expectations associated with romance. Why are certain things associated with wanting to form a romantic relationship? As a child, I thought I was a girl and I knew, just from the social code of school life, that becoming friends with boys would be seen as some romantic advance (despite the fact that we were all literally elementary schoolers.) In first grade, everyone thought I had a crush on this kid I was friends with, and I always laughed at them. I was just looking for friends. Friends isn’t a freaking gender-specific term. I think I’ve always kind of tried to “play it cool” with the boys, especially in middle school, simply because I didn’t really want anyone to think “haha, so-and-so is dating so-and-so” just because I had a conversation with another person. And what sucked is that when I thought I might be bi, I kind of consciously did the same thing around girls as well - I tried to be socially adept and “cool” and not too overly open, just because of all of these social codes that indicate romantic intent. 
One of these strange codes that confused me was this: “if so-and-so has a crush on you, you should totally date them!” What if I didn’t like so-and-so back? Why the hell would I date them? But something that I witnessed happening quite often in middle school was kids finding out someone ‘liked’ them and then wanting to ‘like’ that person back, despite not having formed attraction in the first place. It felt like a puzzle. It was something that I observed and maybe sort of over-analyzed, because dissecting social situations and laying out pieces of the puzzles on the floor is something I just do. I reckon that kids were not only beginning to experience romantic/sexual attraction individually, but that they were also recognizing the social standards that were beginning to form. The first batch of kids wanted to form relationships (if not long-lasting ones), and so they did; other kids who were experiencing attraction subsequently felt a little bit of pressure to get with someone fast. The complaints of “I’m so sad I don’t have a boyfriend” and similar phrases rang free throughout the hallways. In short, allo- and heteronormativity seems to have influenced a lot of people. Which is fine for many, but also restricting for those in the lgbtq+ community (but of course, the jungle of school life does not intend to cater to the minorities) It was simply a thing that happened, and a thing I’m seeing a bit more clearly now. 
[Also, the concept of using the word ‘like’ to describe adolescent romantic interest in another person always confused me. I never got why ‘like’ had romantic intent - I liked people that I’d formed friendships with. No one ever outright said “I have a crush on this person.” They just said like.]
There’s only one occasion on which I’ve known how to react emotionally to someone telling me that he had romantic interest in me, and that’s only because I personally ‘liked’ them back. I had already imagined that situation, and I welcomed it. [Amusingly enough, we both kind of ignored our confessions for a while, but eventually we formed an actual relationship. Ah, the joys of social situations.] But in terms of other people admitting their interest, which hasn’t happened all that much but has still happened, I’ve had very mixed reactions. One time a couple of years ago, it was my friend whom I cared very deeply about. I didn’t really know how she knew that I didn’t have interest in dating her, but somehow she did, and she told me so. This made my reaction less clouded and more simple, and it wasn’t really an uncomfortable situation; I confirmed easily enough that I didn’t have any interest in dating her and the situation resolved nicely. Basically, although it wasn’t an ideal occurrence, it didn’t affect our friendship in any way.
But there have been other times where it’s been extremely uncomfortable. Once, I joined an after-school club in which I barely knew anyone. During one of our meetings, we took a walk to a local coffee shop to just sort of hang out. And this girl - I’ll call her ‘C’ for online purposes - sat down and started talking to me. This was fine - why not have a bit of conversation? She talked about K-pop a lot (which eventually got very annoying lol) and just seemed like she wanted to be my friend, and internally I told myself well, I don’t really know her and she doesn’t seem like the kind of person I want to hang out with but we’re at a coffee shop and I’m bored. At the end of our coffee shop trip, C asked for my phone number. I didn’t take this to mean anything beyond the fact that she wanted to talk to me more, and though I felt inclined to decline her offer, I really didn’t want to hurt her feelings (again, the joys of social situations.) So now she had my phone number. Here’s where things got weird. For one thing, she sent me a bunch of random pictures of K-pop singers, saying things such as “omg he’s so hot” which was already uncomfortable in itself. Me, being a bit of an idiot, didn’t stand up for myself, or even block her number. Then, she came out to me as pansexual and told me she had a crush on me. When she told me this, she did not imply in any way that she didn’t have an intent of dating me or something, so I was very, very uncomfortable for several reasons. Firstly, I didn’t know her that well - I didn’t really even consider her a friend. Secondly, I definitely did not want to date her because I didn’t really know her. And thirdly, I didn’t know how to react. I think I said something along the lines of “Oh, well, um, okay, I don’t have a crush on you” and left it at that. For the final puncher, she started finding me in the hallways after school as she left for the bus and giving me hugs. I am typically not a physically affectionate person, so this was just weird as hell for me. Again, like an idiot, I didn’t stand up for myself, and so I just kind of stood there... all of this took place right before my school shut down because of the pandemic, so I was literally saved by everyone getting kicked out of school. Thankfully, I did not see her anymore, and finally I blocked her number as I should have done much, much earlier. [I didn’t intend to make that story so long, but there it is anyway.]
The point is, I found it extremely strange that someone I barely knew had a crush on me. This feeling was amplified when, a couple months ago, something else happened: someone on Instagram, who I didn’t know at all, expressed interest in dating me. I was extremely confused. Apparently they sort of knew me because we were in the same school system, but I’d still never met them.
I simply mean to say that romantic attraction drives people to lengths that I personally find strange and inconceivable. Looking into the aromantic community has taught me that essentially all of what we deem ‘romance’ is socially constructed. The rules, the implications, the things you’re supposed to do. You’re supposed to flirt with the person you ‘like’. You’re supposed to get all nervous around them. You’re supposed to only form a relationship with one person or else you’re considered weird and even perverted. Flirting seems like a ritual, nervousness seems like a prison - why can we not do away with the expectations and simply do what feels comfortable to us individually? I have learned about the term relationship anarchy, which means doing away with and rebelling against all of these expectations. The expectation of monogamy, of ritualistic performances, of a certain type of romance, of what actions are deemed romantic or sexual, of having to have a romantic and/or sexual relationship, etc. I find that relationship anarchy is a very appealing concept. People should have whatever relationships or lack thereof that they wish. Queerplatonic relationships should be normalized. Loveless aromanticism should be understood and not demonized. Polyamorous people should not be alienated. In short, these societal expectations that we’ve established have no purpose beyond defining what a “real relationship” is, and by ensuring that romantically loving one other person is what “makes us human” and deems us “normal” in society. Platonic and familial love should not be put below romantic love, yet we’ve created a hierarchy. Me platonically loving my true friends should not be “less than” me romantically loving my boyfriend. And people who just don’t want any sort of relationships or attachments to other people should be respected, because they are not negatively affecting anyone in any way. Except by hurting the feelings of bigots, and I’d pay anyone to do that any day if I had the money. 
Though I love my friends and my boyfriend in different ways, I realize that I have extremely similar criteria for a friend versus a partner. Beyond my general confusion regarding romance as a concept, this is another thing that has led me to believe I am arospec. It’s always been very difficult for me to imagine romantically loving someone who I couldn’t consider a friend - how, then, would my relationship even work? One thing about society’s ideas of romance that I do resonate with is the fact that your partner should be your best friend. [For me personally. I’m not just making a general claim.]  It’s hard to see myself dating someone who I hadn’t known before, who I hadn’t befriended, who I hadn’t considered a best friend because we knew each other and had come to form an actual bond. I would be happy spending my life with someone who I considered both a best friend and a romantic partner. I don’t think this is something that is of absolute necessity to me - I could see myself without a romantic partner, which is another major reason I’m beginning to consider myself arospec [maybe greyromantic or demiromantic.] And of course, I have conflated romantic and platonic attraction in the past; upon reflection, I think I’ve only experienced genuine romantic attraction once, which of course also prompts me towards arospec. 
Many resources - tumblr accounts dedicated to aspec experiences and questions, online stories, even just bare definitions of terms I didn’t know - have been extremely helpful in not only my understanding of myself, but also of the variety of experiences that lie with others. There is a beautiful array of diversity out there in the ways people think and feel, and it feels as if I have discovered a gold mine. [Hehe - do we place value on gold in the same way we place value on romance?] Simply learning about the multitudes of people out there with so many different experiences has been wonderful.
Upon reflection, I’ve also begun to wonder if I am acespec. Society is at it again - placing inherent value in certain concepts, associating expectations between categories. Specifically, the categories of romance and sexual attraction. In most movies with romantic subplots - which is a shit ton - sex seems to always be attached to the development of a romantic relationship. Here’s the thing - most people don’t think about the Split Attraction Model (SAM), which separates romantic and sexual attraction. It’s either you’re attracted to someone, or you aren’t. But for those who do use the SAM for whatever reason, romantic and sexual attraction are separate terms [though they can of course be intertwined.] I find it strange that romance sort of necessarily leads to sex - why? You don’t need sex to have a healthy relationship - but of course, many people want it and so it happens. And because sexual attraction is often tied to peoples’ romantic partners, sex is just associated with romance. [And also apparently sexual attraction can happen towards random people, which I didn’t know lmao.] The SAM is useful for many [not necessarily all] aspecs, as it creates this differentiation between wanting to date someone and wanting to, well, do the do with them. Through investigating common terms used by aspec people, I also find the terms aesthetic and sensual attraction useful, because I believe I have conflated aesthetic and sensual attraction with sexual attraction. [Also, in the past, for some reason I didn’t really know that sexual orientation referred to people that you literally wanted to have sex with. I thought it was just the people that you ‘liked’.] These specific terms have been quite useful to me personally, as I’ve realized that I really can tell the difference between the types of attraction that I experience. The issue is, I’m just not sure about my sexual attraction - have I actually experienced it, and if so, in what ways? It does get frustrating to question so much, but it’s an interesting exploration all the same. 
Am I actually acespec? Maybe not. But even if I’m not, I’ve still learned a lot about acespec people, and again it’s wonderful to read about how many different experiences exist in this world. Looking back on my past has been interesting. Thinking about my present and my future is intriguing. Wondering what I am and where I’ll go is a mixed bag of emotions, but it’s here and I’m stuck with it. I think I’m probably arospec, and that discovery is honestly relieving. It feels like a weight lifted. It clicks into place. I’m just going to keep living and figuring out what the hell my sexual orientation is, and I’ll vibe with it, I guess. The general, whole, main point is: learning about these communities is an enlightening experience, and it has perhaps reshaped part of my view of society. And also, I write too much. 
If you read this whole thing, I commend you for making it through my massive overshare. I hope you gained something from it, whether that be entertainment or knowledge or simple resonance with an idea. 
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flamingo-writes · 5 years ago
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Don’t Tell Dimitri — Claude x Reader
Summary: It was after one of the monthly missions that Byleth had asked you to assist with the Golden Deer. Your lance skills were remarkable enough to have Claude manipulating Byleth into asking for your help. However, Claude’s reasons to do so were others rather than just your strength and skill.    
A/N: I went for F!Byleth instead of Gender Neutral Byleth, as I originally intended. I’ve been playing far too long with F!Byleth, I sometimes forgt M!Byleth is a thing too XD forgive me. Also, I’ve been loving the Golden Deer route, although I’ve got to admit, I miss my Blue Lions :c Anyways, I hope you enjoy this. 
Also! I headcannon Byleth to be a cheeky little shit. Everytime I have the opportunity to answer with any sarcastic/smartass answer, I go for that one. So, my perception of Byleth is heavily influenced by it. I apologize if you eadcanon Byleth to be more of a composed/serious character.  
Posted: 04.21.2020
Word Count: 1.7K
Warnings: curse words. 
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How bad things would go if someone ever found out Claude's teeny tiny crush on Dimitri's younger sister? The princess of Faerghus. Being roughly a year younger than both Claude and Dimitri, skill wise, you weren't in any way behind them.
In fact, from a young age, you showed great skill with a lance, despite your lack of Crest. You waved your lance with such precision as if it were both a third arm and your dominant hand. With such grace and skill you waved any lance, making it hard to believe you lacked a Crest. 
That skill was what first caught Claude's attention. However, your laid back personality and sharp tongue amused him like very few things in life did. However, he could see through the cheerful mask you wore to cope with the horrible past you and Dimitri had been through. 
"Say, Teach" Claude said walking up to Byleth who was attentively watching you train with Felix. "Don't you think we'll need a little help for our mission at the end of the month?" 
"I can't believe you are admitting our lack of skill, Claude. It pains me, really" Byleth snapped sarcastically at once "I'm sorry I can't be the Professor you deserve" She continued, knowing it would either annoy Claude or amuse him. 
"Oi, no one said anything about you as a professor" Claude chuckled corresponding to Byleth's sarcasm "I was just merely stating a possibility…" 
"Why are you here, Claude? I know its not because you want to train. I rarely see you doing anything productive at all on a Sunday" The professor remarked as Claude laughed softly.
"Alright, you got me, I'll cut the bullshit" 
"Language, kid" Byleth chuckled rather amused by hearing kids use curse words. 
"Those two are very tough on the battlefield. That first mock battle we had, I swear to the goddess, for a second I thought we were done for when I fought against her…" Claude recalled as Byleth nodded, remembering how Claude barely could dodge your fierce moves.
"You're suggesting that I should ask for their help for our next mission, is that right?" 
"To be honest, Felix kinda scares me a bit" Claude admitted "He's so short fused, I'm afraid he ends up stabbing me instead if I do something to upset him. [Name] however...she's cool, funny, she laughs at my jokes. She's much more laid back than her brother. And at the same time, she's a killing machine with a lance" 
"Is it just me or do I smell your hormones all over me?" Byleth chuckled, looking at Claude, trying to see his reaction, however, the young man simply shrugged. “You could either genuinly care for this girl, or you just want to get on Dimitri’s nerve, which one is it? Or is it both?” Byleth teased. 
"Say what you want, Teach. Tease me to your heart's contempt. But rest assure, you'll remain my favorite lady in this monastery…" 
"Good, I was worried that you might replace me for her" Byleth replied sarcastically. 
"Me? Never! Who do you think I am?" Claude giggled mischievously.
"The Claudster" Byleth smiled back at her student before looking back at Felix swinging his sword swiftly as you effortlessly stopped each and every one of his attacks "Alright, I'll ask for her help after she's done training" 
♤ 
By the end of the month, on your way to the battlefield, Claude and you didn't stop giggling and whispering things to one another. The two of you looked like elementary kids plotting something. But that same behavior helped camouflage Claude's feelings for you, as people thought you two were just friends. Some believed you were close to you just to piss Dimitri off. Either way worked to mask the secret Claude so desperately wanted to hide.
The mission wasn't particularly hard. But maybe it was because you were there giving a helping hand. A very helpful one. However, things of course wouldn't be as good after the Golden Deer had won the war. 
While saving Claude's back while he was busy shooting an arrow, you'd twisted your ankle throwing your lance at a thief running towards Claude, ready to slash his back with a sword. 
Claude helped you walk, holding one of your arms around his shoulders and one of his arms around your waist.
"I definitely owe you big time" Claude said, grateful that you'd saved his life.
"Oh, normally I wouldn't ask you to return favours, but I will ask for this one back" you joked, laughing, trying to mask the unbearable pain on your ankle.
"You better don't tell Dimitri about this" Claude laughed, knowing your brother would be particularly amused with Claude getting his sister injured.
"I don't know, it'd be a good way to blackmail you" You joked.
Once back at the camp, Marianne took a look at your ankle. Working a little bit of magic, it soon stopped aching and it no longer was swollen. 
"I-I'm so sorry, [Name]. I can't completely cure you ankle. It'll no longer hurt, but you'll still need to rest" The shy girl mumbled too fast and too low, it was hard for you to properly listen to her. 
"It's cool. You already did a lot" You tried reassuring her "The pain was the worst part. Thank you Marianne" You smiled.
"Teach, what now?" Claude asked Byleth as she sat next to you, looking at your ankle "It's almost sunset. We won't be able to be back at the monastery before nightfall" 
"We leave tomorrow morning. It is dangerous to wander at night" Byleth answered standing up and walking to her tent. "Especially considering one of us isn't in the best condition to fight if we run into something"
The moon was almost at its highest point in the night sky. The campsite, dark and silent, as only the echoes of Raphael's loud snoring. And Claude was unable to fall asleep. Not because of Raphael, it wasn't the first time they camped, the snoring had never been a problem. 
His mind was restless with the thought of you being asleep a couple of tents away from his. In an in impulsive thought he could not ignore, he left his tent and walked across the camp stealthily until he reached your tent.
"[Name]" He whispered. She's asleep, you jerk...He told himself after whispering your name a second time. "[Name]" 
The fabric shook gently as you popped your head out of the tent. 
"Why the hell are you still up?" You whispered a scream.
"I'm sorry, did I wake you?" The boy asked.
"Not at all" 
"What?" Claude raised an eyebrow as a smirk spread through his face "Why the hell are you still up?"
"Don't use my lines against me, smartass" You giggled "Wanna come in?" 
Claude tried not to answer right away and instead waited a couple of seconds as if he was considering it.
"Sure" he shrugged.
You sat on your sleeping bag as Claude kneeled inside your tent and sat next to you.
"So? What brings you here?" You said leaning back, resting your weight on one of your arms.
"Couldn't sleep. And I heard noises coming from your tent" he lied, since you hadn't been making any noise whatsoever, but didn't question his words. "Wanna hang out while either of us gets sleepy?" 
"Sounds good to me" You shrugged.
"Thank you for saving me today. Or...yesterday. whatever" He said frowning softly. "Thank you" 
"Don't thank me Claude. I was merely doing my part, thats it" you said as your fingers reached his earring. "I like it, it suits you" 
"Thank you, darling" he smirked leaning into your touch and shrugging softly "You're tickling me" 
"I didn't know you were ticklish" You giggled, smiling mischievously. 
"[Name], no!" Claude chuckled holding your wrist tightly as you tried to sneak it to his neck. "If we wake anyone up we'll be in trouble"
"Since when do you care about getting in trouble?" You snapped as Claude looked at you with a stare you knew it only meant trouble.
"True" He hissed as he moved closer to you.
"No" You said once you noticed his menacingly stare as his hands quickly found their way to your neck and sides "Stop! Claude!" you tried to keep your giggles under control as Claude was the one tickling you now. "We'll get in trouble" You whispered a scream.
"Sorry, don't care" He whispered back at you as his fingers kept roaming, tickling you, trapping you in a torturous laugh.
"Claude!" You cried.
"Alright, fine" He was giggling as he stopped "Whatever Her Highness commands" He chuckled as you caught your breath. 
"Claude?" You whispered, still panting softly. 
"Yes, [Name]?" With a pleased cheeky smirk, he looked at you, his gorgeous green eyes meeting yours.
His heart stopped for a second once he realized what kind of look you were giving him. Your eyes were beginning to look sleepy, and yet, they scanned his face slowly. He noticed the particular way your stare would stop on his eyes and his lips.
Taking the hint, he leaned closer, slowly, giving you time to decide what happened next. At first, you didn't move, and the tip.of your.noses brushed softly, as he kept looking at you. 
In a barely audible  voice, you whispered his voice before closing your eyes. Once Claude saw his cue, he leaned in, closing in the space between the both of you. His lips met yours. 
It started as a shy simple kiss that quickly heated up after you locked your lips with him. At first, the both of you awkwardly trying to adjust to each other's rhythm. But once you managed, the both of you lost yourselves in it. 
With your heart on your throat, you clung to Claude, wrapping your arms around his neck and gripping his hair. At the same time, Claude wrapped one of his arms around your back and squeezed you against his, while he rested his weight on his free hand. 
Finally, you broke the kiss, the both of you breathless, panting lowly. Claude bumped his forehead against yours as the both of you remained motionless. 
"Let's not tell Dimitri about this" You panted as Claude nodded. 
"Agreed" He whispered, looking into your eyes for a brief second before leaning closer to steal another kiss from you.
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edelweiss123 · 4 years ago
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It still baffles me...
...that the writers of a kid's show who were willing to blatantly address various heavy topics on-screen such as revenge, war, torture, racism, famine, sexism, ableism, child abuse, abandonment, and fucking GENOCIDE, with gravity and aplomb...
...still somehow thought that "literal 12-year-old doesn't end up with his first crush" would be a deal-breaker.  Like...?
Okay.  First, a disclaimer.  I am a die-hard Zutara shipper. I'm also really fond of MaiLee and Taang, independent of that, and really don't care for Maiko, but that's topic for a different post.  None of the points I’m going to go over have anything to do with those pairings.
But EVEN IF I didn't feel that there were far better canon characters for Katara and Aang to end up with respectively...
Kataang, as it is written in canon, is sad and weird and uncomfortable to me, and here's why:
The Dynamic
Maybe if the characters had been, say, 16 and 18 when they first met, this wouldn't be a problem.  But Aang is 12 and Katara's 14.  And their maturity gap is far larger than a mere two years.
Aang, despite being well traveled and the burden of Avatarhood on his shoulders, is also a very *young* 12.  Remember, up until the iceberg, he's lived a pretty idyllic, mostly responsibilty free life.  He's only known he was the Avatar for like, a month, tops, before that.  Sure, the other monk children don't play with him after this reveal, but it's well established he has friends all over the globe; he's a prodigy, yes, with all the pressure that can bring, but it doesn't appear he was pushed to master air so fast?  He just very much enjoys airbending.  And Gyatso is a loving guardian.
Which is why he runs away at the first sign of something difficult in his life--the possibility of losing Gyatso.
Compare this to Katara, who was born in a hostile landscape amongst a struggling people.  She is, as far as she knows, the last of her kind, with no teacher to guide her.  She suffers a traumatic loss young, and it is *explicitly stated in the show* that she stepped up to fill her mother's shoes at what, 7? 8? While her family grieved.  Her father leaves, possibly to never return, when she is 11.  She is laden with responsibility beyond her years.  Her time and energy are not for her to spend on herself--she has too much to do.  *She is not a child*
So of *course* she starts mothering this wide-eyed cheerful boy, who got taken away by the same people who murdered her mother within a day of meeting him.  He's the Avatar but he's also an innocent kid in need of protection and care.
Now, does that mean she never acts immature?  No--she *is* still a teenager, and prone to occasional bouts of typical teenager dumbassery. (see: waterbending scroll).  But she does most of the chores and nags the others about their misbehavior and tries to console them when when they're down. She literally poses as Aang's mother at a PTA meeting.  For fucks sake, at the end of Season 2, when she's holding a dead Aang sprawled in her arms and looking pleadingly at the sky, there is NO WAY you can convince me all those art students storyboarding that scene WEREN'T making an intentional reference to *La Pieta*--You know, that super famous statue where Mary is cradling her dead Savior son (before he gets resurrected) and that is widely considered one of the most poignant examples of MOTHERLY LOVE AND GRIEF in the whole WORLD.
And I don't know about you... but it's really, really creepy to me for a *romantic* relationship to result from something with that much mother/son energy deliberately coded into the show.
The Lack Of Development
At what point does Katara reciprocate the crush? It's very well established that Aang has a crush, of course.  But we've got 61 episodes and basically no definitive evidence that Katara feels anything for Aang beyond platonic affection.  There's the time a fortune teller says she'll marry a powerful bender and she's like, 'huh' (let's ignore the fact that Aang at the time is like the only powerful bender she really knows).  There's the time she (almost?) kisses Aang in a cave because, you know, she thinks they might stay lost forever and starve to death if she doesn't (romantic!)  
The other two times Aang kisses her--she's just kind of shocked after the first one, and gets mad after the second one because she *had just expressed a desire to not do so seconds before*  And the fourth kiss is in the literal last 30 seconds of the show, with no dialogue, no lead-up, just a fade to black "welp this is happening, aaaand, SCENE."  It very, very much has the feeling of "hero gets the prize/girl" instead of "two people who have been mutually longing for each other come together", and that's really, really gross to me.  It does such a disservice to both their characters, but Katara's especially.  It feels like she had no agency in this result, that they got together because Aang wanted it so much, but it matters so little what she wanted that we don’t even need to bother showing her wanting it.
The Stunting/Regression of Character Growth
What does Aang sacrifice? The answer?  Nothing.  'Now, wait a minute', I can hear you say, 'he lost his entire people and culture!  How can you say he's lost nothing!'  I didn't say he's never suffered *loss*.  But having something taken away from you and giving something up for another's sake are two entirely different things.  Aang, in the end, gets everything he wanted--the girl he wanted, his pacifist morals intact and unchallenged, his culture eventually restored.  Hell, he even somehow gets the Avatar State, despite never explaining how he manages it when it was EXPLICITLY STATED he couldn't do so without letting go of certain attachments.  Wow, guess it turns out he never needed to sort out all of his emotional trauma to acheive inner peace and enlightenment after all--just needed a good acupressure session to get those chakras flowin'! One quick magic whack to the back!
I don't think 'the hero is always right' is a good message.  The theme of 'just because you want something doesn't necessarily mean it's what's good for you, or others' is a pretty recurring theme throughout the rest of the show, and having the universe warp itself to accomodate the beliefs of the protagonist  (lookin' at you, deus-ex-machina turtle) so he is always right, no matter what, means that he never has to reevaluate his beliefs, never really has to *grow* as a character.  
Kya, Ursa, Yue, Iroh, Hakoda, Katara, Sokka, Zuko--hell, even Toph, who makes the decision to let Appa get taken so she can save her friends...
Over and over it's shown that Love is Sacrifice, and I think Aang should have been shown making some personal sacrifices for the sake of the world, instead of showing that the power of clinging to his absolutist morals is enough to solve all his problems.
I understand why the writers, despite showing many characters die off-screen, hesitated to show Aang killing someone, even someone unredeemably evil, because there would be no way to do it OFF screen, and it IS still a kid's show.  (On that note:  couldn’t they have just somehow...idk, trapped Ozai in the Spirit World or something?  Have him literally sent to not-hell?)  
BUT, that doesn't mean they couldn't have shown Aang doing something that made him realize that, as the Avatar, even if a necessary action went against his personal beliefs or wasn't what he wanted, his needs are superceded by the needs of the world he claims to love.  He ignores this in S2 and nearly pays the ultimate price... but it's never properly addressed again. And thus, because that never happens, I honestly don't consider 13-yr-old Aang all that much more mature than 12-yr-old Aang, and I think that's a waste of potential.  
And as for character regression...
Katara? Master Waterbender and war-hero?  Who grabbed onto the first opportunity to explore the world beyond her tiny home, who fought for every scrap of skill and recognition she had--against a world determined to see her as lesser because of her race, her gender, her age?  Who never backed down from what she thought was right, even when her own family and friends didn't support her?  You're telling me that, according to canon, *that same Katara* was perfectly content to retreat to the South Pole and do nothing of note for the next 70 years except for being a good little housewife and healer?  Get the fuck out of here with that misogynistic horseshit.
IN CONCLUSION
I could go on.  I could talk about the unequal division of emotional labor between the two--with Katara constantly having to be mindful of not upsetting Aang too much lest he fly away and/or have an Avatar State tantrum.  With Katara constantly reassuring Aang, but Aang, for instance, offering unsolicited advice about revenge instead of trying to understand what she needed, or kissing her without asking--twice!--and expecting them to be together without him ever even asking if that's what she wanted.  I could talk about Katara not taking Aang to task for things he does wrong and Aang not being willing to see that Katara isn't perfect--how he puts her on a pedastal and Katara is afraid to leave it and break his illusions by being her real self.
But ultimately, what it boils down to, it that the most unrealistic thing about AtLA was not the magic, or the spirits, or the hybrid animals.
No, the most unbelievable thing about this show is that the ending was ruined just because more than creating a consistent thematic and emotional throughline, a couple of white dudes wanted to vicariously live out all of their "hot-for-babysitter" childhood fantasies.
And that's all I have to say about that.
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