#though near the end of this doodle page it kinda clicked how I might draw him

[thecandymaticart]

Some doodles of a viper dude

[stxphxn-strange]

will you hold this? (it’s my heart)

a/n: i wanted to write some sad fluff, like well everything is going to be ok, but is it? and it’s kinda just me sharing my experience via college AU!tony.

Of course they could talk without saying anything out loud. They’d been inseparable almost from the first day they met, their childhood codewords evolving into a serious language of gazes and expressions. They could have an entire conversation just by looking into each other’s eyes, far away from anything else that was going on around them. Sometimes their conversations were so fast, you’d miss them if you so much as blinked. Anthony knew Stephen like the back of his hand (and vice versa) and could read him like a book. To be fair, Anthony was of the opinion that reading Stephen’s facial expressions and their subtle changes was more interesting than most books. And that was, in a weird way of arriving at the conclusion, part of the problem.

It wasn’t Stephen’s fault, in fact it had nothing to do with him whatsoever, but books and articles and journals didn’t hold Anthony’s attention sometimes. It didn’t matter how passionate he was about the subject matter, sometimes his brain just didn’t want to absorb anything. He’d stare at the wall, or sometimes at nothing, following a thought process that didn’t always make sense. More often than not, it was just an avalanche of one (1) idea after another, leaving him confused and upset. How come he could sing an entire song in his head or invent a new product, but not focus on the pages in front of him?

And of course Anthony didn’t want to give himself too much credit, he wasn’t that brilliant and his thoughts/mind weren’t the only thing that distracted him. Sometimes he’d click open a new tab and follow internet discourse.

Sometimes he’d scroll through old texts.

Sometimes he’d send some new texts.

Sometimes he’d stand abruptly and wander aimlessly for a few minutes. What he did tended to vary, but his focus consistently left the task at hand. If he was listening to someone, or trying to listen to someone, he’d bite his lip, touch his face, tear at the hole on the knee of his jeans, or something similar just to deal with the realization that he was occupying his body. He was too often gripped by the realization that he was a corporeal being, leaving him desperately needing to feel the environment around him, just as a reminder that he was alive. Sometimes he wondered about how and why he still existed, but today wasn’t one of those days.

Anthony hadn’t asked himself any questions relating to his mortality in awhile, and he didn’t want to. He could deal with fidgeting as a reminder that he was a living thing, he couldn’t deal with wondering why. All of his anxiety was, ironically enough, focused on the fact that he couldn’t focus on a damn thing. There wasn’t time to let his mind wander into any dark corners, but Anthony didn’t know that he’d be able to collect his thoughts if it did. So after picking up his phone for the third time, just to play a quick game and see if Rhodey texted him back (he didn’t, because he was in a lecture and Anthony knew that but still checked his phone every few minutes), Anthony subtly shoved his phone in Stephen’s direction.

Stephen looked up as he saw Anthony’s hand in his peripheral vision, fingertips lingering near the top right corner of his notebook. That was one of the clearest signs that he wanted or needed something but was hesitant to bring it up.

“What’s up Ant?”

“May I ask a small favor?”

Stephen rolled his eyes fondly. “There’s no limit to the things I’d do for you, but go on.”

“Will you hold my phone in your bag?” Anthony asked, a bit sheepishly. “I’ll take it back once we’re home.”

“Sure,” Stephen replied, not thinking twice about the request. He brushed his fingers lightly against Anthony’s as he grabbed his boyfriend’s phone.

Anthony let out a sigh. “Thanks.”

“What’s wrong?” Stephen asked, holding his hand properly.

“I just can’t really focus,” Anthony confessed. “I should’ve finished all of this ages ago, but my mind is just elsewhere. I must be distracted because you’re too pretty.”

“I’m fucking gorgeous, but that’s not why you’re distracted and we both know it,” Stephen replied, his tone firm but sweet.

Anthony shrugged. “I don’t really know what it is. I just can’t seem to concentrate, even as I’m trying to do multiple things at once. I’m trying to make up for lost, wasted time I guess? But I can’t focus on one (1) thing, let alone four (4).”

Stephen frowned at the look of distress on Anthony’s face, letting go of his hand for a moment just to brush his hair back. He smiled as Anthony leaned into the caress, relaxing just a bit.

Every bit counted! But beneath Anthony’s little moment of bliss, he was unsettled and frantic. Stephen reached for his hand again, sending Anthony a knowing smile as he began to draw circles on the back of Stephen’s hand with his thumb.

Anthony cocked his head to the right and frowned, tapping his pen on the desk with his other hand. A look of fear and regret flashed in his eyes as he let go of Stephen’s hand. “I didn’t mean to distract you too.”

“You know I can’t resist you,” Stephen replied teasingly, trying to convey that he wasn’t actually upset.

But Anthony wasn’t convinced, crossing his legs nervously and looking at Stephen with guilt-stricken eyes.

“I’m not actually upset or annoyed or anything like that,” Stephen assured him. “I promise.”

Anthony just nodded and slouched uncomfortably in the chair he’d been sitting in for the past few hours. He eyed the stack of papers in front of him with disinterest, trying to convince himself to just finish reading and start this damn essay. He knew that looking at the articles wasn’t going to help him absorb the information, but he wasn’t getting anywhere by trying to read and it was so FUCKING frustrating.

He sighed and opened his laptop again, mentally committing to just getting the outline of his paper done. It wouldn’t be that painful, right?

Actually it could. Even though Anthony stood up to stretch, walked to the bathroom, got some water, and doodled just to keep his mind busy while he tried to take some notes and start his outline, nothing worked. And again, it was REALLY fucking frustrating.

Beside him, Stephen quietly closed a book. “Want to head home?”

Anthony hesitated, looking for a minute like he was going to decline. Eventually he nodded, feeling a little like he was admitting defeat. He’d come back to the essay later, he always finished his tasks... but he hated how long it took him to do them.

“Come on,” Stephen said gently. He stood up and reached out to hug Anthony against his side. “What should we make for dinner?”

++++

Anthony was uncharacteristically quiet for most of the night, which worried Stephen and their housemates. Stephen knew Anthony was upset and that he always dimmed himself when he was lost in his head, but he was rarely this eerily silent. He didn’t touch his work for the rest of the night, trying to make sense of his day and watching Stephen and Carol argue about movies once she and Pepper came over.

Stephen would glance at him every now and then, finding obvious stress in his tired expression. Even though Anthony seemed relaxed, sitting next to Rhodey and occasionally adding a joke to their conversation, he was tense and edgy. Sometimes his sleepy facade would sort of slip, and Stephen could see how much stress he was hiding in his tired eyes.

After spectating a Mario Kart tournament for a few rounds (Pepper insisted on challenging Rhodey with everyone present, raising the stakes of the competition), Anthony slipped over to the other side of the room where Stephen was. While Stephen was still sitting, Anthony hugged him, clearly enjoying the reversal of their height difference.

Stephen found he didn’t mind it as Anthony rubbed his back and softly kissed his hair. With a smile, Stephen looked up at him and pressed his chin into Anthony’s shoulder. “Hi. I’m surprised you aren’t gloating about being taller than me since I’m sitting down.”

Anthony just shrugged. “I didn’t come over to brag. I think I’m going to bed, though. I’m tired.”

“I’m surprisingly not,” Stephen remarked. “But I don’t blame you, weren’t you up late last night?”

“Yeah. I almost fell asleep in the kitchen trying and failing to write that damn essay,” Anthony muttered.

Stephen frowned. “Go get some rest, love. You deserve it, and you need it. I’ll probably come to bed soon.”

“Sounds good,” Anthony replied, kissing the top of Stephen’s head again. He addressed the group then, saying a quick goodnight and hugging Pepper and Carol before wandering towards his room.

Overcome with tiredness and a need to be close to his boyfriend, Stephen left for bed not 30 minutes later. Anthony was shrouded in the scent of vanilla and residual steam from the shower, his damp hair tucked away under the hood of an old sweatshirt his mother had given him.

He was curled up near the center of the bed, resting on a pile of throw pillows he hadn’t bothered to move, his eyes following the screen of their TV.

“Villager hunting? Who moved out?” Stephen asked, realizing that his boyfriend was playing New Horizons.

“Filbert,” Anthony replied, his avatar running the hell away from some wasps. “I’m looking for Pietro now, Clown Town isn’t complete without him.”

Stephen rolled his eyes. “I still can’t believe that’s what you named your island. I think I have some extra tickets I can give you if you need.”

“This is my first mystery island, but I might take you up on that,” Anthony said, with a soft smile.

++++

“Did you come to bed at all last night?” Stephen asked, resting his cheek against Anthony’s shoulder.

“Yeah, don’t you remember?” Anthony asked softly.

“How would I? I was asleep,” Stephen reminded him.

“No I know, but you do this cute thing whenever I come to bed late, I guess it’s a subconscious thing, where as soon as I lay down you always reach for me and end up holding me,” Anthony replied. “It’s adorable. Kinda like this spooning thing we’re doing right now, except not because I’m usually facing you.”

Stephen smiled, hugging him closer. “Well I do sleep better with you.”

Anthony blushed, amazed that Stephen’s affection could catch him off guard sometimes. “I love you.”

“I love you too, dumbass,” Stephen replied. “Although I still can’t believe you didn’t take Raymond on the last island you were on.”

“I’m not looking for him. If I’m going to bring a smug villager to Clown Town, it’s going to be Pietro!” Anthony said, laughing quietly at Stephen’s sudden outburst.

(Actually, that was only the beginning of Stephen’s outburst.)

“Raymond is my favorite villager, and you know it! This is a betrayal, the greatest disappointment of this century, and I’m so upset,” Stephen complained, exaggerating every word. “I’m absolutely devastated!”

Anthony knew he was joking, but he started to wonder if Stephen could be disappointed in him for not trying harder to concentrate. He shelved that thought for a minute, running in a circle around another villager. Instead of voicing what really bothered him, he asked: “I thought Dizzy is your favorite villager?”

“Dizzy is my favorite on my island, Raymond is my literal dream villager,” Stephen explained. “I was going to visit him on your island! I feel so betrayed, Anthony!”

“Raymond is alright I guess, but—”

“He’s the best villager in the game! And he kind of reminds me of you,” Stephen cut him off.

“Ah, that explains why I dislike him for some reason,” Anthony quipped.

“Anthony.” Stephen changed his tone, his voice soft and loving in contrast to how bitter his boyfriend sounded.

“What? I’m just saying. Nothing that reminds you of me could possibly be a good thing,” Anthony explained.

Stephen frowned, hugging him even closer. “I call bullshit. I’ve never come across anything I think that’s ‘bad’ that reminds me of you. Only good things.” 

Anthony scoffed. “If you say so. If nobody moves to my island by tomorrow, will you give me some of your NMTs?” 

“Of course,” Stephen replied. He paused before speaking again. “How are you feeling, by the way?” 

“Tired,” Anthony said, saving his game and putting his Switch away. He saw Stephen frowning again, this time at his absence, and quickly returned to bed and his boyfriend’s arms. “And also discouraged. Sorry I insisted that you held my phone earlier, I was thinking if it was out of sight I wouldn’t be distracted and it didn’t even work so all I really did was bother you when you were reading and I’m sorry.” 

“Hey, remember what I always tell you? It’s never bothersome to support you and be around for you,” Stephen replied. “I know you don’t always believe it, but I’ll just keep telling you. And I’m sorry you had a hard time today.” 

“It’s not just today, Steph,” Anthony remarked. “I’ve been thinking about it kind of a lot recently, and I’ve had trouble sitting still, concentrating, not getting distracted, etc. since third grade at least. I’ve just noticed it more recently and it’s made me more anxious since I notice it more.”

Stephen just hummed, softly kissing his cheek. He knew Anthony wasn’t done talking, but always liked to silently offer support/affection/reassurance.

“I don’t have my thoughts together very well, I just feel stupid for not being able to focus,” Anthony continued. “Today I couldn’t focus on more than a sentence without a distraction, and I’m not sure if I hate myself or if I want to be forgiving just this once.”

“Be gentle with yourself,” Stephen urged. “I know you’re trying. You thought about how to minimize your distractions, and I know you like to plan your time. It might be hard to follow your plans, or to keep from getting distracted, but you’re doing your best.”

“I’m going to talk to my mother about this tomorrow,” Anthony said. “Maybe she has some advice on how to deal with it? Is it stupid to hope that I’ll be able to fix myself with just some advice?”

“You’re not broken, Anthony, so there’s nothing to fix. But for the sake of your analogy, no. You are an engineer, after all, and a problem solver. Just promise me you’ll try to be kind to yourself?” Stephen asked.

“No promises. I really fucking hate myself for not completing something as trivial as that essay,” Anthony muttered. “It’ll get done eventually. I guess that’s reassuring.”

tags: @stark-strange-love2 @ah3m @thespacecryptid @chocopiggy @kiwidino @ironstrange-chaos @majesticnerdynerd @spooky-n-spunky @doctorstephenvincentstarkstrange @maya-custodios-dionach

[snow-pitch-grimm]

Better Than Any Fantasy

Summary: Simon finds some of Baz's sketches of him. His reaction isn't what Baz had expected.

SIMON

I didn't mean to see it.

I've seen him write and doodle in his notebook before, always with it turned away from me. I'm curious as to what he's doing, but even I have my boundaries. No matter how much I'm convinced that he's plotting, there are some lines I wouldn't cross.

Going through someone's private diary is too much, even for me.

So, I really didn't mean to see it.

I'd been looking for a paper of mine through all the clutter on my desk when my elbow had knocked over Baz's neat stack.

I curse as I quickly pick up his things. As I pick his leather-bound journal, a pape slips out.

It was a drawing, a very familiar drawing.

It was me.

In the picture, I was shirtless and lying renaissance style on the sheets, with the sheets covering my waist to my mid-thigh.

I looked...I looked good.

Why would Baz draw me like this? Was it a trick? No, it couldn't be. He's always hidden the contents from me.

Despite my better judgement, I opened the journal. Skipping over the writing I only looked at the drawings. Specifically drawings of me. There I was, writing, laughing, smiling and generally just doing normal things. There was even one of me stuffing myself with scones. Baz somehow made me look beautiful doing that too.

It didn't make sense. Could it be that he liked me? That didn't make sense either.

The last collage of pictures answered the question for me.

It was the only page that involved him too. In one corner, we were holding hands, at the bottom edge we were looking at each other with smiles on our faces. At the side of the page, he as leaning against a brick wall with him leaning over me. At the bottom, we were lying together in the grass.

Framed by all these doodles is a picture of us kissing. It was just our faces and my hand. Our lips are carefully melded together, and my hand is cupping his cheek, the one not turned toward the viewer.

The pictures have a soft, wavery quality to them like they are from someone's dream.

Did Baz dream of this? Is this his fantasy?

I was still trying to figure it out when the door clicked shut behind me.

Turning around, I came face to face with a shocked and angry looking Baz.

BAZ

He found it.

Of course, he found it! Snow has no concept of privacy!

I stomp forward and grab the things from him.

"You couldn't leave it well enough alone, could you?" I snarl

"Baz- no. I didn't-" he starts, waving his hands and looking at me beseechingly, "I don't-"

I don't want to hear the rest of it. I turn around and stalk out of the room.

I walk and walk until I'm at the edge of the woods. There I sit down on the rocks and let my head fall into my hands.

What's he going to do now? Would he tell people? Would he make fun of me? Or would he just ignore it? Which one's worse?

"Agh," I grunt and throw the journal on the ground.

This was a disaster.

I had fantasies of him finding out and telling me he felt the same way. I would bring him flowers, and he would thank me with a small kiss. Or we would finally snap and kiss each other, ending up together in bed. There was one where he confessed and asked me out on a date.

But they're only fantasies. I know he's never going to love me the way I love him.

And now he knows exactly how much I love him.

Tears gather in my eyes as the severity of the situation finally hits me. Simon knows now. He could tell anyone. He could decide to finally make my life miserable. He could-

"Baz," says a hesitant voice from near me.

Snow's standing there, a sheepish look on his face. His hands are shoved into his pockets and he's fidgeting on his feet.

"What do you want," I ask, sounding as defeated as I feel.

He's silent for a moment before speaking.

"I really didn't mean to see it," He says softly, "It fell off your desk when I was looking through my stuff. The loose one fell out and well...after seeing that how was I not supposed to be curious,"

I snort but keep quiet. He did have a point.

"And I didn't read or look at anything else," he continues, "I only looked at the pictures you drew of me...and you,"

"Right," I say

There's silence again and Snow comes to sit beside me.

"What are you doing," I ask him

"Sitting," he answers

"Snow-"

"You like me?"

He's looking at me with curious eyes. I look for any malice but his eyes clear.

"I think that much is obvious,"

"You know I've never thought of you that way," he says, "But it's kinda sweet. Do you really think I'm that pretty? Because honestly, I don't look as good as in the mirror as I do in those drawings,"

All I can do is stare at him.

"Snow I can't tell whether you're letting me down easy or-you know what I have no idea what you're doing,"

Snow smiles at me, that bright smile that makes my heart beat fast.

SIMON

It hadn't taken long to make my decision. Only five minutes to be exact.

Five minutes is all it took to look at my feelings and think if the conclusion I wanted to this whole event.

The fastest decision I have ever made, and it still feels right.

Poor Baz, though. He looks so confused.

BAZ

Snow is still smiling when he answers and nearly stops my heart.

"What I'm trying," he says, "Is to get you to ask me out on a date,"

My jaw drops open and I'm left speechless.

SIMON

I think I might have broken him

BAZ

"Hey Baz," says Simon, waving his hand in my face, "Are you still here? Do I need to take you to the infirmary?"

I snap myself out of it and stare at him incredulously.

"What do you mean, ask you out on a date? You're not gay. What about Agatha? And where would we even go on a date here?"

Simon smiles, "I mean, ask me out on a date. I'm not gay. I'm bi. Figured it out when I first saw you shirtless. Agatha and I broke it off, mutual decision and if you're smart enough to be head of the class, you're smart enough to figure something out for a date,"

I stare at him, once again rendered speechless

SIMON

Did I break him again?

"Did I break you again?"

"I'm still stuck on me shirtless being your bisexual awakening,"

"Trust me I was surprised too," I tell him

"You really want to go on a date with me," he asks, looking a little shy

It's unusual and adorable, solidifying my decision to give us a chance. After all, its not every day you find a boy that spends his time doodling you in his secret notebook, all because fo how much he likes you.

"Yeah," I tell him

His face brightens, and my heart skips a beat.

Without intending to, I slide my hand in his.

BAZ

I'm holding hands with Simon Snow.

Merlin Above, I'm holding hands with Simon Snow.

I have to pinch myself to make sure I'm not dreaming again.

Nope, Simon Snow is definitely holding my hand right now.

"We should probably head back," he says

I nod, not trusting myself to speak.

We walk back together, still hand in hand, and surprisingly we don't run into anybody on the way back to our room.

When we get back, we spend some more time sitting on my bed and talking. Simon tells me about some of the mischiefs he and Penelope get into, and I tell him about my family and my the little terrors that are my siblings.

We finally decide to go to sleep when the clock strikes midnight.

As he gets off my bed, Simon bends down to kiss my cheek, making the skin tingle under his lips.

This is definitely better than any fantasy I have ever had.