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you-get-to-exhale-now-cyrus · 6 years ago

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Secret Admirer

Summary: For the first 14 days of February, Cyrus receives a small gift from his secret admirer. With the Valentine’s Day Dance coming up, will his secret admirer reveal himself and have the night of his dreams?

This is my Valentine’s Day Exchange Gift for @tyrus-endgayme-confirmed ! I hope you like it!

Word Count: 6851

Ships: Tyrus, Minor Ambi, Minor Muffy

Wednesday February 1st

TJ grabbed the towel from out of his bag, wiping off the sweat that had accumulated during practice. A few of his teammates clapped him on the back on their way out, and soon it was just him and Marty in the locker room.

“You played great today, man,” Marty said, taking a seat on the bench and unscrewing his water bottle, “we’re gonna crush the Raptors when we play them,”

“I hope so,” he mumbled, digging into his bag for a piece of paper; not just any piece of paper, but the piece of paper. “Can you do me a favor?” he asked, folding up the paper neatly.

“Hm, depends, what am I getting out of it?” Marty challenged, capping his bottle and stuffing it into his duffel bag.

“The satisfaction that you’re helping a friend of yours with a love related issue?”

Marty perked right up, hopping over and slapping TJ’s arm repeatedly. “Oooh, TJ’s got the hots for someone,” he crooned, smiling mischievously.

“Shut up,” he muttered, pushing him aside and handing him the piece of paper, “just tape this up on locker 143,”

“Wait, that’s Cyrus’ locker,” he sputtered, earning an unenthusiastic glare from TJ.

“Good catch, dude. Glad to know you’re not totally clueless,” he said, patting him on the shoulder, “just go pin it up. I’m picking him up from school today and I want him to see it before we leave,”

“TJ and Cyrus, sittin’ in a tree, K-I-”

“Finish that rhyme and I’ll bench you for the season!” he called, heading towards his locker. Marty pulled his lips into a small smile, sneaking out the back door of the locker room and jogging down the hallway. It was mostly empty, save for a teacher or two, and the cleaning crew that came every night. He peered around, not wanting to be caught, and haphazardly stuck the note on Cyrus’ locker, ducking out of sight as quick as he could.

“I’m telling you, my answer was right,” Cyrus huffed, clutching his biology textbook to his chest, “she just didn’t want to go back and check because she didn’t want to admit that I was right,”

TJ chuckled, shaking his head. “I can’t imagine Ms. Wingood being that petty,” he replied, as the two of them stopped by Cyrus’ locker for him to drop off his stuff. Sure enough, there was a small scrap of notebook paper, folded in the shape of a heart on his locker.

“Must be the wrong locker,” Cyrus mumbled, ripping it off and opening it up to read it.

I think you’re one of the most beautiful people in the world, Cyrus.

Cyrus stared, dumbfounded. That was his name on the note. His name. This wasn’t a mistake. “What the. . .?” he trailed softly, running his fingers delicately along the writing.

“Someone’s clearly smitten with you,” TJ teased, trying to contain his amusement.

“Or it’s just some dumbass prank,” Cyrus corrected, exchanging his biology book for his english ones, and dropping them into his bag, “you’re driving me home, right?”

TJ nodded, starting towards the parking lot. “Just like I said I would, Underdog,” he commented, unlocking his car with the click of a button.

“I’ve got to tell Buffy about this,” he started, snapping a picture and quickly texting it to her.

And if TJ nearly hit a bush on the way out because he was too busy staring at Cyrus, nobody made a comment.

Thursday February 2

TJ had never been at school this early; the birds were hardly chirping, and most of the lights inside were off, or were just starting to warm up. He pushed through the entrance, dropping off his books at his own locker, when someone came up behind him.

“So what do you need me to do again?” the boy asked, looking up to TJ with tired eyes. Darren, one of the members of the basketball team, agreed to help TJ out with his ‘challenge’, but he didn’t imagine getting up this early.

“When you see Cyrus, give him these and tell him that his secret admirer made them for him,” TJ insisted, shoving a box of cookies towards the other boy, his eyes darting around the hallway for a certain boy.

“Here he comes,” he whispered, pushing Darren out of the way and dashing into the nearest classroom. Tentatively, he peered out of the window, trying to see what was going on without giving away his location.

“Cyrus, right?” Darren greeted, approaching the other boy, “these are for you. Your, uh, secret admirer told me to give them to you,”

Cyrus’ face scrunched up, carefully taking the box. He looked around at the other students; a few of them were watching him with a concentration that could only be described as endearingly creepy. “Who’s behind this? Are they recording this? Is this a prank?”

Dareen shrugged, tapping the box lightly. “Don’t shoot the messenger, dude. I was just told to give this to you this morning,” he mumbled, turning on his heel and pivoting away. Cyrus opened his locker, setting the box down lightly.

“Hey, Underdog!”

Cyrus whipped around, smiling tentatively when he saw TJ. “You will not believe what happened to me this morning,” he gushed, pulling out the box of cookies from inside his locker.

I have some idea. “What’s inside?” TJ asked, trying his best to conceal his smile.

“I’m not sure let me just,” he started, peeling back the sticker and opening up the box. Inside were around two dozen heart-shaped cookies, decorated with pink and red royal icing, “oh my gosh,”

TJ peered over his shoulder, biting back a smile. “Secret admirer?” he asked.

Cyrus nodded. “That’s what Darren said. It’s nice, I just-I really hope this isn’t some stupid prank,” he muttered, taking a cookie and handing one to TJ, “want one?”

TJ took it gratefully. “Thanks. I’ll see you after practice,”

As if on cue, Buffy ran up to Cyrus, poking his shoulder. “Did I just see TJ giving you a box of cookies that were heart shaped?”

Cyrus scowled, already halfway through a cookie; they were so good. “And now you don’t get one for being nosy,” he insisted, “no Darren gave me these. From my secret admirer,”

Buffy raised her brows, snatching the box and taking one for herself and one for Andi. “They went through all this work for you? That’s pretty sweet,”

“Yeah, yeah, okay. Don’t make this a big deal,” he mumbled, walking off to class, cookies in hand.

Friday February 3

He was almost there; he could see Cyrus’ locker. Unfortunately, he could also see a certain pixie-haired girl standing near it. This couldn’t possibly go well. He tried to act casual as if he was walking in this direction for a good reason.

“Your locker is on the other side of the hallway,” she pointed out, “this is Cyrus’,”

Crap. “I know, I was just. . .getting help from a teacher,” he lied, walking into the nearest classroom and shutting the door. So much for that plan, he supposed. Luckily the room was empty, and he didn’t have to explain his actions.

“Hey, Cyrus!” Andi called, “ready for French?”

“Oui, oui, mon amie,” he puffed out, drawing out his French accent tremendously, “on y va,”

As soon as TJ saw that Cyrus and Andi were gone, he popped out of the classroom. Pulling out his phone, he pretended to look at it and stretch up, slapping another note on the boy’s locker. He breathed a sigh of relief; at least his anonymity was still in tact.

While he was doing homework later that day, TJ got a call from Cyrus. Putting it on speaker, he continued to try and do his work.

“Hey, Cy, what’s-”

“A poem, TJ!” he squealed, and TJ could practically hear his grin on the other side of the line.

“What are you talking about?”

“On my locker, there was a poem! Let me grab it so I can read it,” he said, and TJ heard the sound of papers shuffling on the other side of the line. He smiled to himself, and could feel a blush rising within him.

“Okay, here we go,” he started, clearing his throat, “Cyrus, you are the moon and the stars, the sun and every brilliant ray of light. With a smile so warm and inviting that it’s hard to picture any other expression on your face. You are the wildflower in a field of grass, the warm patch of grass on a cloudy day, and the gentle breeze on a summer’s day,”

TJ cringed internally; he didn’t like having his poetry read aloud, but he couldn’t really tell Cyrus this. He just listened to him, paying close attention to his inflection.

“Can you believe? That’s, like, the sweetest thing anyone has ever said about me!” he gushed, folding it back up, “do you have any idea who this person might be?”

TJ swallowed; he hated lying to Cyrus. “Not a clue,”

“Alright, well, I’ll leave you to your work. See you tomorrow!” he hung up, and TJ shut his phone off. He couldn’t concentrate on his homework for the rest of the night.

Saturday February 4

TJ’s chest ached from running, his feet stinging. He could see the small, blue house close ahead, so he kept going, paper in hand. He knew Cyrus wouldn’t be home right now; he had dance rehearsal, which he hadn’t failed to point out in the daily. How dare they deprive him of his Saturday, he’d whined.

Hopping up the stairs, he taped the small piece of paper on the door, and scurried away. He felt a certain lightness to his step, smiling when he thought of the smile on Cyrus’ face.

Cyrus wobbled out of his dance class, feeling different. Luckily, Buffy was there to help him walk home. “How was class?”

He groaned, shooting her a look as he grabbed onto her arm. “I have a newfound respect for ballerinas,” he muttered, wincing with each step.

“Well, look on the bright side,” she offered, “at least when you go to the dance, you’ll be the best one on the floor,”

He snorted, rounding the corner. “Yeah, you say that as if I’m going to actually go to the dance,” he pointed out, shaking his head, “I’d just end up going alone,”

“Not alone,” she said softly, “you can go with me and Andi, like we always do,”

“You mean I tag along with you guys until Amber and Marty show up,” he corrected, sighing in relief when he saw his house in the distance.

Buffy hesitated, gnawing at her lip. “Well. . .what about your secret admirer?”

Cyrus shook his head. “That’s probably just a joke,” he shrugged it off, “and even if it wasn’t, I doubt they’d reveal themselves,”

Buffy offered a sympathetic smile, turning into his driveway. “I think the mail came,” she pointed to a small piece of paper, fluttering on the door. As they got closer, Cyrus realized that it wasn’t a piece of mail; no stamps, no address, no envelope, nothing. Peeling it off the door, he unfolded it and read it.

Valentine’s Day Dance. You and me?

It took everything in Buffy to not say ‘I told you so’, so instead she shook her friend lightly. “See? Look!”

Cyrus fought a smile off of his face, folding it back up and placing it into his pocket. “Whatever,” he mumbled, trying to keep his cool, but missing the mark by a long shot, “I’ll see you later,”

That night, while he was trying to finish some math problems, TJ got a text from Cyrus. It was a picture of the note on his door, followed by a text of random letters mashed together.

[scary captain: oooh? someone’s smitten for youuuu]

[underdog <33: i can’t even it’s so cute !! someone actually wants to go to the dance with me??]

[scary captain: what can i say, you’re quite the catch]

[underdog <33: someone sure seems to think so]

Sunday February 5

TJ sat around most of the day, not sure of what to do. He didn’t really feel like running to Cyrus’ house and placing another note on his door. Plus, he knew Cyrus was going to be home for probably the entire day, so that plan went out the window. He peeks outside through the curtains, and smiles upon seeing the flowers. It may be February, but at least some wildlife was alive. Suddenly, he has an idea, so he texts in the groupchat.

to: operation muffin

[scary captain: find as many flower petals as you can. meet me tmrw in front of my locker]

Monday February 6

“C’mon, I don’t want him to see us,” TJ groaned, brisk walking towards his locker. His friends came up to him and the box that he held, and they dumped all their petals in there. Pink, red, white, yellow, and every color in between spilled into the box. It looked like a rainbow threw up; how befitting.

They scattered, and feeling a bit more confident, he hurried towards Cyrus’ locker. All that confidence evaporated when he saw the lock. Crap. He didn’t know the code.

Luckily, Andi seemed to be passing by; maybe she would know? “Hey, Andi,” he called out, holding the box tight to his chest. Because if he dropped it, it would all be over.

“TJ, hi,” she greeted, a small smile on her face.

“Do you, uh, know Cyrus’ lock combination?” he asked, tapping his feet in his shoe. Andi’s happy expression morphed into one of confusion, knitting her brows together.

“Why?” she asked, crossing her arms, almost as a means of defense.

“Oh, uh. . .he, um, he stole one of my hoodies,” he lied, forcing a small smile, “yeah, and I. . .need it back,”

She looked him over once, twice. She was probably sure that he was lying, but she didn’t press it. She merely shrugged, tugging on her backpack straps. “Okay, um, it’s 2, then, 28, then 19,” she supplied, giving him one more look of confusion before walking off.

Sighing in relief, he turned the lock, using the numbers that Andi gave him, and sure enough, it opened. He peered around; not too many people were in the vicinity, and the ones that were around didn’t look like they were paying attention. Hurriedly, he dumped the petals in and slammed the locker shut, locking it.

“Okay, done,�� he mumbled under his breath. He wanted to wait around for Cyrus and see his reaction, but he needed to meet up with his math teacher and touch base about the upcoming quiz. Oh well, Cyrus would probably tell him about it later.

Cyrus walked out of his biology class, tears glossing over his eyes. That was the worst test he’d ever taken; it might as well have been written in Chinese, he would have understood it all the same.

“Hey, Cyrus!”

A familiar figure came up behind him, slinging his arm around Cyrus’ shoulders. “How was class?”

Cyrus shook his head, looking up a little. He felt a little guilty for making TJ’s smile go away, but it was like he couldn’t help himself. “That was the hardest test I’ve ever taken. Failed it for sure,” he groaned, crossing his arms.

TJ frowned, pulling him in a little closer. “I’m sure you didn’t fail. You always say that, and then you do fine,” he noted.

Cyrus sighed. “Whatever, it’s over, I guess. History is next, can this day get any worse?” he grumbled, heading towards his locker. TJ wondered if Cyrus had seen what was inside.

He watched as Cyrus carefully turned his lock, like it was clockwork. The moment he tugged the locker open, all the petals spilled out, like a waterfall. A few of them spent considerable time in the air, before floating down and settling on the floor.

“What the-” Cyrus started, reaching into his locker and pulling out a large handful of petals, “do you think it’s from. . .?”

“Your secret admirer?” TJ supplied, a bit too quickly, “probably. I can’t imagine it being anyone else,” he added, squatting down to help Cyrus pick up the petals.

“I’m taking these home to press them in books,” Cyrus decided, a soft smile returning to his face.

“Feeling a little better?” TJ asked, handing him the rest of the petals.

Cyrus nodded, scooping all of the loose petals into a stray bag that he had floating around in his locker. “Yeah, thanks,” he smiled, “for, helping me pick these up, I mean,”

“Don’t mention it,”

Tuesday February 7

“And I keep getting all these little things, like in my locker and I just, I’m going to burst from happiness!”

Jonah smiled. “I’m really happy for you,” he noted, patting his shoulder, “whoever this is, they’re really cool for doing all these things,”

“Yeah, they are,” he mumbled, dreamily, leaning against the locker. Curse him for thinking of a certain blonde haired boy.

“Do you have any idea of who it might be?” Jonah asked, opening his locker and exchanging the books for his next class.

Cyrus shook his head. “I have an idea of who I want it to be,” he admitted, “but it would be stupid,”

Jonah smirked, shutting his locker with a gentle click. “TJ, right?”

Cyrus nearly fell, the ground feeling like it was crumbling underneath him. “What?” he squeaked, looking around.

Jonah chuckled, shaking his head. “Yeah, man. You think I can’t hear all the things you’re constantly mumbling under your breath about him? Or the way you look at him?”

Cyrus smacked his forehead. “Ah, silly,” he grumbled.

“Don’t worry, your secret’s safe with me,” he smiled, and Cyrus felt infinitely better.

Unfortunately, TJ did not. He saw a part of their exchange from afar, and all their laughter made him want to turn around and run the other direction. But that would be childish and silly. Two things TJ Kippen was most definitely not.

“Hey guys,” he says, with all the enthusiasm that he can muster. It’s lame, but it’s an attempt.

“Oh, hey TJ,” Jonah greets with a nod, “we were just talking about you,”

Cyrus elbows his side, feeling his cheeks heat up. He shot Jonah a look that read ‘I’ll kill you’, but before he could cause too much damage, there was more speaking.

“Really?” TJ questioned, and it almost looked like he was about to smile.

Jonah rubbed his arm, getting the message. “We, uh. . yeah, we were. . .talking about the upcoming basketball game,” he lied, with a bright grin on his face.

“Oh, okay,” he replied, glancing at Cyrus, “I’ll catch you later,” he says with a wave, walking off. Once he’s out of earshot, Cyrus gives Jonah a swift slap on his arm.

“Are you kidding me? Could you be any worse at this,” he groans, putting his head in his hands.

“Don’t worry, I’m sure he didn’t notice,” Jonah supplied, walking off to his next class.

“Aaron, hey!” TJ whispers, kicking the desk beside him to get his attention, “can you give this to Cyrus when you see him?” He handed him a piece of paper, that had been folded up, and on the outside there was a small heart.

Aaron nodded, slipping it into his pocket for later.

It hardly felt like a Tuesday, according to Cyrus. The week had just started, and he was already looking forward to the weekend. Each class seemed to drag on and on. What was worse, in Cyrus’ opinion, was that whoever was this secret admirer of his didn’t give him anything today. He tried not to feel bad about it. Besides, it was probably just some joke anyways. Why was he so hung up on it?

“Uh, Cyrus, right?” someone called out, stumbling forward to try and get his attention.

“Yeah that’s me. . .Aaron, right?”

The boy nodded, fumbling with a piece of paper. “This is from T-” he bit his lip, shaking his head, “from, uh, from your secret admirer,” he corrected, handing him the piece of paper. Cyrus took it carefully, trying to suppress the building excitement that was blooming in his chest. Unfolding it, he found that it was a carefully sketched picture of him, concentrating on something. It was done in pencil, probably something done in a class, but it was beautiful.

“This is incredible,” he gawked, not even bothering to look up, “thanks for giving me this,”

“Oh, uh, I’m not. . .I’m not your secret admirer,” he flushed, rocking back on his heels.

Finally Cyrus looked up, folding the drawing again. “Oh, no, I didn’t mean to imply that,” he laughed dryly, “I mean thanks for being the messenger,” he corrected, “I’ll see you around,”

Wednesday February 8

There’s less than a week until Valentine’s Day, and TJ feels like he’s going to explode. He’s kept this secret for so long and he doesn’t know how he’s going to make it for another week. Six days, actually.

He walked into school with flowers in his hand; forget-me-nots, along with a small note. Cyrus’ favorite. He always liked the name, because he talked about how he didn’t like being forgotten. And TJ never forgot that.

Unfortunately, neither did Buffy. When she spotted him, she made a beeline towards him, a determined look on her face.

“Flowers? You shouldn’t have,” she cooed, batting her lashes.

He scoffed, crossing his arms. “As if, Driscoll,”

She shook her head. “Who are those actually for?”

TJ tried to brush it off; he wasn’t going to let Buffy Driscoll of all people get under his skin. “No one. They’re mine. Someone got them for me,”

She hummed, unconvinced, but surprisingly, she didn’t press any further. She gave him another look before walking away. Breathing out a sigh of relief, he started towards Cyrus’ locker, only to see him starting to walk in that same direction. Fortunately, he hadn’t seen TJ. In a moment of panic, he chucked the flowers towards the base of Cyrus’ locker and ducked into the nearest classroom.

“Breathe, TJ,” he told himself, placing a hand over his heart. He waited a few beats before peeking his head out of the room. And sure enough, Cyrus had the flowers in his hand. Casually, TJ waltzed out of the classroom and towards him.

“Wow, more gifts,” he chuckled, leaning against the lockers.

“And they’re my favorite flowers!” he beamed, opening his locker and neatly placing them in there, “they must have a spy on the inside to get this information,” he laughed, shaking his head, “I’ll see you later,”

“Later,”

Thursday February 9

“But you don’t get it, they’re my favorite flowers!” Cyrus cooed, walking side by side with Andi.

“I know that. You tell me all the time,” she pointed out, shaking her head.

He sighed, tugging on the straps of his backpack. With each day, he was getting more and more impatient with this secret admirer of his. He figured he’d find out who he was eventually, but he also knew he couldn’t wait much longer.

“Well I’ll be damned,” Andi muttered under her breath, plucking a note off of Cyrus’ locker and opening it up, “it says ‘I fall harder for you each day. Each day it gets a little harder to keep this a secret. But I promise you’ll know who I am by Valentine’s Day’”

Cyrus grabbed the note out of her hand, feeling mildly violated. “I did not approve you to read this,” he noted, but he was smiling, “and oh my gosh, that’s quite possibly the nicest thing anyone’s ever said to me,” he murmured, “hey, you have history with TJ, right?”

“Yeah, why?”

“Oh, nothing. I was just,” he paused, “wondering if-”

“You wanted me to analyze his handwriting and compare it to the one on the note,” she deadpanned, offering a sympathetic smile.

He opened his mouth to protest, but nothing came out. She hit the nail on the head.

“You want it to be TJ,” she said softer, placing her hand on his arm.

Cyrus nodded, almost sadly. He wanted it to be TJ so badly, and a small flutter of hope existed, but he knew that deep down, it wouldn’t happen. Because he was Cyrus Goodman, and TJ was. . .TJ.

Friday February 10

Cyrus hadn’t seen TJ all morning, which usually he wasn’t too bummed about, but he hadn’t gotten the chance to show him the drawing he’d received. He’d pinned it up in his locker, holding it up with a few magnets to support it. It was beautiful.

“Cyrus, c’mon, we’re going to be late for class,” Buffy drawled, physically having to drag him away from where he was standing.

“But I didn’t get anything this morning, and I didn’t see TJ,” he whined, trudging along down the hallway.

Buffy shook her head, trying to piece two and two together. It made sense in retrospect; the flowers, the handwriting seemed pretty similar, and TJ wasn’t a bad artist. She smiled to herself. “I’m sure things will all fit into place,” she said, pushing him into the classroom.

By the end of the day, TJ had finally found himself a spare moment to rush by Cyrus’ locker. It was a bit of a messy job, but it was done. He didn’t want Cyrus to think that he’d forgotten about him.

“. . .and I’m telling you, it wasn’t the right answer,” Cyrus’ voice floated down the hallway, so TJ pretended to check his phone casually, staring at a black screen.

“TJ, hey! I haven’t seen you all day,” Cyrus beamed, bouncing right up to him.

He pocketed his phone immediately, rubbing the back of his neck. “Yeah, I had a doctor’s appointment this morning, so I missed the first two periods,”

Cyrus nodded, turning to face his locker. He swore he turned a shade of red one could only describe as unnatural. There on his locker was a cut out kiss, with a little thing of lip balm, with a small note that read “Pucker Up”.

“Oh my god,” he mumbled under his breath, quickly taking it down, “this is the flirtiest by far,”

“Something wrong with that?” he asked. He tried to make it sound casual, but it sounded worried and almost strained.

Cyrus giggles, placing the note in his locker and the lip balm in his pocket. “No, I just. . .wasn’t expecting that,” he admitted, “I mean, I didn’t think anyone would want to kiss me of all people,”

“Are you insane? Who wouldn’t want to kiss you?” TJ blurted out, freezing up a little. He really just said whatever came to mind, didn’t he? “I mean, uh, you shouldn’t. . .shouldn’t say things like that about yourself,”

“Right,” Cyrus mumbled, the deep shade of red never fading from his face, “. . .any fun plans for the weekend?” he tried, filling the silence as they walked towards the exit.

“Nothing much, just. . .waiting for this Valentine’s Day dance,” he muttered.

“Oh, are you asking someone?” he asked nervously, toying with the hem of his shirt.

“. . .maybe,” he said with a smirk, carding a hand through his hair, “maybe, maybe not,”

“I hate when you say that, you know,” Cyrus chuckled, rounding the corner towards his house.

“I know,”

Saturday February 11

TJ wasn’t lying when he said he didn’t have plans. If Cyrus hadn’t have texted him asking if it was alright if he came over, he would be in his room staring at the wall.

“So,” TJ started, pausing the game of Mario Kart that they were currently on, “you ready for the dance?”

Cyrus shook his head like his life depended on it. “God, no,” he chuckled, leaning back against the couch cushions, “I’m just. . .nervous,” he admitted, “I mean, what if my secret admirer is a girl?”

TJ breathed out a laugh. “No offense, Cy, but it’s not exactly a secret to the school that you’re gay,” he pointed out.

��I know, I know,” he hesitated, fumbling with the controller, “but still, I just. . .I don’t know, I can’t help but feel like it’s some joke. Like someone has been doing this just to get a kick out of me,”

“I’m sure that’s not true,” TJ assured him, placing a hand on his shoulder, “plus, whoever he is, he’s really lucky,”

Cyrus tried to respond, but nothing came out. Because dammit, TJ Kippen was really beautiful up closer; the way his green eyes shined, all his little freckles that splayed across his face, the gentle smile that made all his worries melt away.

“I, uh, yeah. . .yeah,” he stammered out. It was a lame excuse of a response, but it was a string of words.

Sunday February 12

TJ tugged on his hoodie, pulling down the hood as far as it would go. It was a chilly Sunday, and he wished it wasn’t him doing this. He’d tried to ask one of his basketball teammates if they could, but apparently they all had other things to do. Either that or they were tired of being TJ’s messengers and listening to him gush about Cyrus.

Either way, that’s how TJ found himself walking to Cyrus’ house that day, note in hand and everything. It was basically deserted that morning, considering people were probably still at church, which he was grateful for. He really didn’t need someone catching him this late in the game.

“TJ?”

He froze, taking a step away from the door and swiftly turning around, making sure to keep his head low. Sure enough, he saw a familiar pair of sneakers and if he was being careless, he could see a head of curls.

“Buffy? What are you doing here?” he asked, scowling.

“Cyrus and I are supposed to hang out today, what are you doing here?” she challenged, a small smirk on her face, “taping a note to his door,” she tacked on.

He grumbled, the wind pushing back his hood a little. “Nothing,” he lied, “I’m, uh, I’m doing this for. . .someone,”

“Mhm,” she hummed, “I can read you like a book, TJ. You can’t lie to me. Well, you can but I’ll know,”

He groaned, crossing his arms. “What do you want?”

“I just wanna know,” she said simply, waiting a beat.

“. . .fine. It’s me, okay?” he gave in, defeated, “you can’t. . .you can’t tell him, okay?”

She clapped her hands together, walking up and plucking the note off of the door. “I won’t,” she promised, opening the door and stepping inside of the house. TJ shook his head. So much for secrecy.

“Cyrus!” Buffy called, pounding up the stairs with manic energy, “I have something for you!”

Cyrus was lying on his bed on his stomach, staring at the TV in front of him and watching whatever show was on the Food Network. “Unless it’s Alton Brown’s pie, I don’t want it,” he mumbled, holding onto the pillow.

“Oh,” she shrugged, “so I guess you don’t want this note from your secret admirer,” she sighed dramatically, holding it out.

He snapped out of his haze, sitting upright and snatching the note from her hand. He unfolded it, and it was a small doodle of a heart, with a small message inside that read ‘I hope you’re not disappointed when it’s me’.

Cyrus smiled, clutching it to his chest and flopping back down. “Do you know who it is?”

Buffy hesitated; she did promise TJ that she wouldn’t say anything about him. “I don’t not know who it is?”

He groaned, frowning. “Buffy, please, I’m dying here!”

“Alright, alright, calm down there, Shakespeare. You’ll find out in two days. You can wait till then,”

“I suppose,”

Monday February 13

How was it was it was already the day before Valentine’s Day? TJ felt like just yesterday it was the end of January, and now he was walking in with one of the last gifts. He handed it off to Blake, the alternate shooting guard for the team. TJ saw Cyrus at his locker, and instantly his day was better. Unfortunately, Buffy and Andi were off to the side making goo-goo eyes at him.

“What is the matter with you two?” he grumbled, approaching them.

“Aw, Kippen’s so smitten for Cyrus,” Buffy cooed, and Andi tried to swallow her laughter, “oh yeah, also I told Andi,”

He pinched the bridge of his nose; pick your battles, TJ. “Can’t keep a lid on it can you,” he muttered, shaking his head, “look just, keep it under wraps for one more day. Please,”

They both mimed zipping their lips and hurried along, bursting out in laughter as soon as they were out of sight of the captain. It didn’t take too long for a certain voice to travel down the hallway.

“TJ, you have to see this!” Cyrus squeaked, pushing the present into his hand, “this is the best one yet, look!” He started pulling out strips of paper, with some of his favorite quotes written down on them.

The things that make you strange are the things that make you powerful -- Ben Platt

You matter to me, simple and plain and not much to ask from somebody -- Waitress

Nothing is a beautiful as you, but these quotes can try -- Your Secret Admirer

“Oh my god,” Cyrus cooed, feeling his cheeks heat up, “this is the best gift ever,” he decided.

“Oh, uh, actually,” TJ mumbled, pulling something out of your bag, “your, uh, secret admirer told me to give you this,” he said, pushing a small trinket into Cyrus’ hand. It was a ceramic dinosaur that TJ had made in pottery class, with the help of the teacher and a photo reference. It was far from perfect, but it was an attempt.

Cyrus swore he was going to cry. “I-I love this,” he whispered, willing himself not to cry, “it’s. . .it’s so beautiful,”

TJ smiled, feeling a little prouder of his work. “Someone really cares about you,”

Cyrus nodded, smiling up at him. “Yeah. . .they do,”

Tuesday February 14

The dreaded, or long awaited, day had arrived. Depends how you look at it. TJ had changed into seven different outfits within the span of ten minutes, and he ended up going with the first one anyways; a pink polo and nice jeans. He got up so early that morning, for fear of being late, that it was still dark outside when he was ready. Trying not to focus on that, he took the opportunity walking to school to try and rehearse what he was going to say, because he knew that he was going to fumble over his words.

On the way, he stopped by a flower shot to pick out a small bouquet of daffodils before continuing on his way. It was a relatively warm day for February, and TJ was grateful for that, considering he hadn’t worn a jacket.

When he arrived at school, he waited around his locker for a while, pacing back and forth so many times a teacher approached him to ask if he was alright. The hallways were littered with Valentine’s Day decorations and posters for the dance. He sighed; how was he supposed to tell him? No, this was going to be okay.

“TJ, hey!”

The moment he saw Cyrus, everything he’d rehearsed this morning went out the window. He barely even remembered where he was or what his name was. It was like he was transported to an alternate universe.

“Oh, uh, hi,” he mumbled, looking down at his hands. Daffodils. Cyrus. Daffodils for Cyrus. Right. “These, uh, these are for you,” he added, pushing them into his hands, “from your secret admirer,”

Cyrus’ heart skipped a beat, he swore, and he all but stopped breathing. Was it. . .could it be? Was this actually happening?

“I’m on delivery duty,” he lied quickly, trying to cover his tracks for a little while longer. Yeah, this was going to be a lot harder than he previously thought.

Cyrus deflated; of course it wasn’t TJ. He was just making it out to be like that. “Oh,” he mumbled, dejected, fumbling with the flowers. At least they looked nice. “Thanks,”

TJ felt a pang of guilt rush through him. He couldn’t keep lying to himself and to Cyrus, it wasn’t fair. “Actually wait,” he hurried, “I. . .need to tell you something,”

Cyrus nodded, looking at him sincerely. “Go on,”

And of all the ways he thought he would feel at this moment, numb was not one of those options. All the anxiety and the fear and the excitement and adrenaline had all melted into nothingness, and left him feeling completely numb.

“It’s me,” he said quietly, shutting his eyes and bracing himself for rejection, “I’m your. . .secret admirer,”

Cyrus was speechless for a moment, before he broke out into a huge grin and started giggling. “Are you serious?” he breathed out, putting a hand on his forehead, “oh my god, I never would have thought,”

TJ opened his eyes slowly; even if he was facing rejection, it was nice to hear Cyrus laughing. “Are you. . .disappointed it’s me?”

Cyrus literally jaw-dropped at that. “Are you kidding? I’ve never been so happy in my life to hear something!”

Now it was TJ’s turn to be speechless. Did he hear that right? “Y-You are?”

Cyrus nodded, placing the flowers in his locker. “You’re seriously asking me that? I’ve had a crush on you since, like, the seventh grade,” he admitted, smiling sheepishly.

TJ smiled so wide his face hurt, but he didn’t care. “So. . .does this mean you’ll go to the Valentine’s Day dance with me?”

“Yes! Yes! A thousand times yes,” Cyrus squealed, wrapping his arms around TJ.

Arriving at the dance was pure chaos. Kids were running down the ramp towards the gym, letting out squeals of delight. Cyrus had arrived with Andi and Buffy, but they had already made their way down the gym after they took pictures. Amber and Marty were waiting down there, so they said a quick goodbye to him and left him alone.

He walked around a little bit, taking note of the posters on the walls for this dance. Andi and the rest of the art club had really gone all out to make sure they were perfect. All the glitter really stood out, and the different styles of hearts and-

“Cyrus?”

A voice cut through the general silence that surrounded him. When he turned around, he thought he could melt right then and there. TJ wore a maroon blazer with a light pink shirt, and a black bowtie. In short, he looked stunning.

“Oh my god,” he breathed, taking a few steps forward and placing a hand on his arm, “you look. . .incredible,”

TJ swallowed, biting his lip. “Right back at you,” he murmured, slipping his hand into Cyrus’, “this okay?”

Cyrus nods, dragging him down the ramp, his feet hammering into the ground with each step. The music was blaring, and the gym was nearly packed with kids, all moving around and waving their hands in the air. And if Buffy and Andi came up to TJ and barraged him with questions while Cyrus grabbed them drinks, he didn’t mention it to Cyrus.

Most of the night was spent bouncing around groups of people, but TJ and Cyrus were basically inseparable. They really liked having each other for company.

“Alright, ladies and gents, it’s time to take it real slow,” the DJ drawled, switching over to a softer song with a gentle beat, “so find that special someone,”

TJ looked almost nervous when he asked Cyrus to dance. It was silly, really, since he already said yes to going to the dance with him. As if Cyrus could sense his nerves, he took TJ by the hand and led him towards the center of the dance floor.

“Hey,” he said softly, reaching up and wrapping his arms around TJ’s neck.

“Hi,” he replied, a small smile making its way on his smile as he gingerly placed his hands on Cyrus’ waist, “is this okay?”

Cyrus nodded, inching forward a little and resting his head on TJ’s chest. He could almost hear Andi shrieking from the other side of the gym, but he assumed it was Amber who kept her in check.

“What are you thinking about?” TJ asked quietly, swaying gently from side to side.

Cyrus chuckled, picking his head up. “How much I want to kiss you,” he admitted, feeling his cheeks flush at that.

“Oh, really?” TJ replied cheekily, smirking down at him, “what’s stopping you?”

Cyrus shrugged, smiling softly. “I mean. . .do you want to kiss me?”

“So badly,” TJ murmured, smiling.

Without much thinking, Cyrus leaned up and planted a short kiss on his lips. They burned at the sudden sensation, and he worried that it wasn’t good. “Sorry,” he murmured, “that was. . .awful,”

TJ gave him a sympathetic smile, hooking a finger under his chin. “It’ll get better,”

Cyrus smiled, placing his hand on TJ’s. “Yeah. . .yeah, it will,”

#andi mack #andi mack gift exchange #tyrus #tyrus fic #tj kippen #cyrus goodman #my fics

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thalsianiii · 7 years ago

Text

Character Sheet: Percival

Character Chart

Character’s Full Name: Percival Thalsian III

Reason or Meaning of Name: Named after Father

Character’s Nickname/Alias: Thal’Cival

Reason for Nickname/Alias: An amalgamation of first and last name in an eredun flavour twist

Birth Date: November 29th

Physical appearance

Age: 33

How old does he/she appear: Mid 60′s

Weight: 200 lbs

Height: 6′0″

Body build: Husky

Shape of face: Rather squared

Eye color: Blue

Glasses or contacts: A monocle for fancy occasions!

Skin tone: Pale

Distinguishing marks: Black tattoo’s from wrist to shoulders on both arms. Large back piece tattoo.

Predominant features: Beard

Hair color: Grey

Type of hair: Longer and wavey.

Hairstyle: Longer for a man. About shoulder length.

Voice: Grizzled, rough, sand papery voice of a grumpy old man.

Overall Attractiveness: He looks average. Aesthetically speaking he looks like any other older gentleman. Not decrepit, but he isn’t a young either.

Physical Disabilities: Since gaining a frailer, older body, he doesn’t have the same over all stamina and reflexes of a younger man. He’s in good shape for an older man. But nature isn’t very forgiving.

Usual Fashion of Dress: Drab, unassuming robes. Tattered wrappings around hands. A hood or hat.

Favorite Outfit: His battle attire. Dark black and grey robes with Empyrium shoulder plates and a mask to hide his identity.

Jewelry or Accessories: A special fetish made by his lover worn around his neck or tied to his staff is worn at all times. A bloodstone ring on his left index finger.

Personality

Good Personality Traits: He’s intelligent. A scholar and an educator. Despite his current situations, an up and coming warlock is still more likely to find him in a good mood if they seek tutelage. He’s also confident, even when faced with adversity he’ll never show fear or doubt. Finally, he’s a critical thinker. he can assess a situation and formulate the most objective route to deal with it. No room for emotional interruptions.

Bad Personality Traits: He’s incredibly volatile and aggressive. The smallest slight can result in an outrageous response. He’s also incredibly possessive and does not take kindly to people taking his stuff (And that includes the people and demons in his life).

Mood Character is Most Often In: Grumpy and agitated.

Sense of Humor: Sarcastic and/or dark. Very limited in humerous moments.

Character’s Greatest Joy In Life: Control.

Character’s Greatest Fear: Being alone.

What single event would most throw this character’s life into complete turmoil? The death of his lover or the robbery of his possessions.

Character Is Most at Ease When: He’s at home by the fire with Cy.

Most Ill at Ease When: When Demon Hunters, Mages, Secret Noble agents, and other people are walking his turf or interrupting his machinations.

Enraged When: People touch his things. Take his things. Call him old. Or call him by some gross pet name like “Percy”

Depressed or Sad When: Never.

Life Philosophy: “One can only, truly, trust in Chaos.”

If Granted One Wish, It Would Be: Ultimate power and immortality.

Character’s Soft Spot: His soul mate.

Is This Soft Spot Obvious to Others? One would hope not. He’s pretty guarded in public. But it’s possible that it’s been slipped out.

Greatest Strength: A Thirst for Knowledge. He’s traveled across worlds to become what he is. His knowledge in his craft is deep. But even now he seeks to expand what he knows into other realms of magic and power.

Greatest Vulnerability or Weakness: Borderline madness. War on Argus left him less than human.

Biggest Regret: Believing the world could ever accept Warlocks as heroes and allies.

Minor Regret: Trusting nobles.

Biggest Accomplishment: Ph.D. In Demonlogy. Multiple written journals on demonic behaviour, military tactics, species variation, biology, &c. Also the mass of knowledge and power acquired on Argus that sets him apart from summoners who failed to leave Azeroth.

Minor Accomplishment: Experimenting with curses and utilizing them on various nobles and other individuals.

Past failures he/she would be embarrassed to have people know about: He once failed to subdue and contract an Observer. Poor form for one claiming to be a master demonologist.

Character’s Darkest Secret: He’s walking around with a nuclear spell in case things go very, very wrong.

Does Anyone Else Know? Nope.

Goals

Drives and Motivations: A need to prove himself to the world.

Immediate Goals: Bind a Doomguard. Perfect a new corruption curse.

Long Term Goals: Immortality. Destruction of the noble cast and all government. Maybe merging Azeroth into the twisting nether. Lofty goals.

How the character plans to accomplish these goals: Magic. Sacrifice. Dark deals.

How Other Characters Will Be Affected: They’ll probably die.

Past

Hometown: Dalaran

Type of Childhood: Abusive. Educated. Entitled.

Pets: None.

First Memory: Something with fire.

Most Important Childhood Memory: Probably a beating. Or meeting a cute Quel’dorei girl?

Childhood Hero: The Guardians of Tirisfal. Medivh, before him Aegwynn.

Dream Job: Destroyer of everything?

Education: Ph.D.

Religion: None.

Finances: Well off. Came from a respected family of Magi.

Present

Current Location: Redacted

Currently Living With: Cypris Nightingale

Pets: One Black Cat named Cricket.

Religion: None

Occupation: Criminal. Cultist. Scholar.

Finances: Well off. Mostly through grave robbing and other illegal activites.

Family

Siblings: None

Relationship With Them: None

Spouse: Cypris Nightingale. (Not married but committed)

Relationship With Them: Really, really good.

Children: none.

Relationship With Them: none

Other Important Family Members: none

Favorites

Color: Purple

Least Favorite Color: Blue?

Music: N/A

Food: Clam Bars

Literature: Demonic and/or Ancient magical texts.

Form of Entertainment: Watching Cy Dance. Banter with demons. Walks.

Expressions: None?

Mode of Transportation: Felsteed or Portal.

Most Prized Possession: His grimoire.

Habits

Hobbies: Fishing.

Plays a musical instrument? Nope

Plays a sport? Nope

How he would spend a rainy day? Researching, practicing, doing anything he’d do on a sunny day. Rain doesn’t stop him.

Spending Habits: Relatively frugal. Or just lazy. He doesn’t need much.

Smokes: Occasionally.

Drinks: Yes

Other Drugs: Occasionally.

What does he/she do too much of? Drinking possibly. Attacking people.

What does he/she do too little of? Probably doesn’t clean enough?

Extremely Skilled At: Summoning arts. Dark arts. Enchanting.

Extremely Unskilled At: Physical combat.

Nervous Tics: Clenching fist. Grinding teeth.

Usual Body Posture: Standing straight. Proper posture.

Mannerisms: Grumpy. Occasionally Rude.

Peculiarities: Darting eyes. Constantly on alert.

Traits

Optimist or Pessimist? Optimist

Introvert or Extrovert? Introvert

Daredevil or Cautious? Middle-ground

Logical or Emotional? Logical

Disorderly and Messy or Methodical and Neat? Methodical Disorder.

Prefers Working or Relaxing? Working

Confident or Unsure of Himself? Confident.

Animal lover? Meh

Self-perception

How She Feels About Herself: Confident and self assured.

One Word Character Would Use To Describe Themselves: Powerful

Paragraph Description on How They’d Describe Themselves: “A master of Fel and chaos. In a world commanded and constrained by Order and laws. I use my knowledge and power to show Azeroth how fragile their systems are.”

What does the character consider his/her best personality trait? His confidence.

What does the character consider his/her worst personality trait? A little bit reckless.

What does the character consider his/her best physical characteristic? Strong arms and dexterous hands.

What does the character consider his/her worst physical characteristic? His jiggly belly.

How does the character think others perceive him/her? They hate him and he knows it. He believes (hopes) they fear him.

What would the character most like to change about himself/herself? Nothing.

Relationships with others

Opinion of Other People in General: Dislikes them

Does the character hide his/her true opinions and emotions from others? Usually.

Person Character Most Hates: Adhelin Holt. Sarahni Rennith. Korrinth the Demon Hunter (forgot last name). Monisha D’Angelo... the list goes on.

Best friend(s): Brian Wellson. Although it’s been a looooong time.

Love interest(s): Cypris Nightingale.

Person Character (Would) Go to For Advice: A demon.

Person Character Feels Responsible For: No one.

Person Character Feels Awkward Around: Maybe Rineah?

Person Character Openly Admires: Jubeka Shadowbreaker.

Person Character Secretly Admires: Tehd Shoemaker.

Tagged by: @sarahniholt

Tagging: @cyprisnightingale @rinohaholt @rineah-darkfall @cordeliaeresholt @fel-temptation @summysparklesprocket @brian-wellson @quai-mason and anyone else!

#Character sheet #holy shit this took a while to do #Good way to start a day

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