#I bet if it was some tall attractive man doing this EXACT same shit you’d all be in love.

[chilapis]

if you’ve ever been mean to the sweet little girl that is paimon i will kill you. i pray for public interest that this is common knowledge.

[freddiesaysalright]

Soft in Love Part 1

A Gwilym Lee x Student!Reader Fic

Summary: Y/N is an acting student in her last semester of college. When a professor unexpectedly can’t make it for the senior capstone class, a very famous (and handsome) substitute is called in. When they connect, they face a few challenges. 

Word Count: 2.6k

Tag List:  @psychosupernatural​, @someone-get-a-medic​, @bensrhapsody​, @deakyclicks​, @crazylittlethingcalledobsession​, @minigranger​, @crazyweirdocalledfriday​, @benders-diamond-earring​ If you’d like to be added, let me know!

A/N: Well, you all voted, and here it is! The promised fic! I hope you all enjoy.

Warning(s): None. Just some eye contact and the beginnings of pining!

Part 1 here we go!!!

Gazing out at the auditorium, you swung your legs back and forth as they dangled over the edge of the stage. Your classmates chatted among each other, but you were content in your own thoughts. You preferred not to speculate on why Professor Bennett was so late. Since she was thirty-seven weeks pregnant, it could be anything.

“D’you want to run lines with me, Y/N?” came the voice of Sloan. “Might as well be productive while we wait.”

You turned your head and smiled at your best friend. “Yeah, sure.”

Pulling your knees up, you got to your feet, grabbing your script off the stage. You headed downstage with Sloan. You flipped to a scene you had together, of which there were plenty. You were playing sisters Esther and Rose Smith in Meet Me in St. Louis. You decided to pick the scene before the party in the Smith’s home. You started.

“I’m going to let John Truitt kiss me tonight,” you began.

“Esther Smith!” she gasped.

You shrugged. “Well, if we’re going to get married, I may as well start it.”

Sloan shook her head. “Nice girls don’t let men kiss them until after they’re engaged. Men don’t want the bloom rubbed off.”

“Personally, I think I have too much bloom,” you read. “Maybe that’s the trouble with me…”

Sloan opened her mouth to read the next line, but at that moment, the door burst open and two men walked in. One, you recognized from the department - Dr. Hugh Curtis. An elderly man that loved his job far too much to retire. He was also helping out your class by playing Grandpa in the show. The other man, much younger than Dr. Curtis, but older than you and your classmates, you didn’t recognize. He was handsome with angular features, rich brown hair, and startling blue eyes. He was tall as well. His eyes found yours and you inexplicably blushed.

“Holy shit,” Sloan said under her breath. “That’s Gwilym Lee.”

You pulled your eyes away from his blue depths and looked at your friend.

“Who?” you whispered.

She rolled her eyes. “Seriously, Y/N? Gwilym Lee, the actor. A famous one.”

“I’ve never seen him in anything,” you returned with a shrug.

“He was in Bohemian Rhapsody just last year,” she remarked.

“I never saw that,” you reminded her.

When the men reached the class, you and Sloan stopped your whispering debate and focused on them. Your eyes lingered on Gwilym, whose striking face made you feel so incredibly...something. You weren’t sure what. Attraction? That seemed too obvious. Desire? That wasn’t really like you. Attachment? You hardly knew him.

“Good morning, everyone,” said Dr. Curtis. “I’m pleased to announce that Professor Bennett went into labor last night, and delivered a healthy baby boy.”

Andrew, your other best friend and co-star in the show, whooped loudly while the rest of the class politely applauded. You and Sloan exchanged excited smiles.

“Yes, yes,” Dr. Curtis went on, quieting everyone down. “Mother and baby are perfectly well and are expected to go home from the hospital tomorrow. Unfortunately, since she is now on maternity leave, she’s unable to teach this class and direct your show. To replace her, I called in a dear friend and former student of mine, Mr. Gwilym Lee.”

Everyone clapped again as Gwilym smiled bashfully and looked around at the class. When his eyes met yours again, you nearly stopped breathing. His face seemed to freeze as well, but he quickly shook his head and cleared his throat. Then he looked at the other students.

“Hello, everyone,” he said with a friendly wave. “I’m very excited to be with your class. Luckily, you’re only a week into the semester, so I hope I don’t have too much catching up to do.”

“We’re lucky to have you,” Edith, your older classmate, spoke up. She was around thirty, and was going to college later since she had children so early in life. “If you need any help, catching up, you can always ask me.”

Gwilym smiled kindly and nodded at her.

Sloan leaned over your shoulder and whispered in your ear, “Desperate, much?”

You bit back a laugh. You didn’t enjoy making fun of Edith, but she did have such a superiority complex about being the oldest in the class. She was also a bit more experienced, acting in small productions outside the city. But she was awfully confident for someone who had never actually starred in anything. You could almost hear how everyone else rolled their eyes.

“Thank you, Edith,” said Dr. Curtis. “Now, this class is only seventy-five minutes, we’ve got to begin rehearsal.”

Gwilym looked over at you and your friend, willing you to catch his eye again. You didn’t. He sighed and wondered why that disappointed him so much. That first moment of eye contact had him reeling. You were captivating and beautiful. And he didn’t even know your name.

The woman named Edith tapped him on the shoulder, pulling him out of his reverie.

“I’m Edith,” she said, sticking out her hand.

“I gathered,” he returned, shaking it.

She giggled.

“It’s nice to meet you, Edith,” he said. “Gwilym.”

“Oh, I know who you are,” she replied, raising her eyebrows at him.

“Who are you playing in the show?” he asked, becoming slightly uncomfortable under her gaze.

“I’m Katie, the maid,” she told him, and he detected some bitterness there.

“That’s great,” he said. “I think I’m gonna just - well - introduce myself to everyone else.”

Dr. Curtis saved him further by grabbing his arm and insisting on the exact same thing. To Gwilym, it was like torture as he made his way from small group to small group, slowly approaching where you stood with two other students. You laughed and his heart skipped a beat. He hardly even heard the other students’ names or the parts they were playing. Finally, they made it to your group.

“This is Sloan, she’s playing Rose,” Dr. Curtis said. “That’s Andrew, and he’s playing John Truitt.”

Gwilym shook their hands. 

“Wonderful to meet you,” he said.

“And now, we’ve saved the best for last, the star of our show,” said Dr. Curtis with an excited clap. “Y/N Y/L/N, who is our Esther.”

You held out your hand with a dazzling smile, and Gwilym shook it. A shock went from your palm to his, something only the two of you could feel. The warmth of familiarity went through your veins.

“Nice to meet you,” you said nervously.

“You as well,” Gwilym returned.

“Y/N is a bit of a diamond in the rough,” Dr. Curtis said. “She’s normally so quiet, you wouldn’t expect her to be an actress. But you put her on a stage with lights and an audience and she shines like the star over Bethlehem!”

“Dr. Curtis!” you replied, a deep blush turning your cheeks pink.

“Well, it’s true,” he insisted. He looked at Gwilym. “Such talent. And at just twenty-two years old!”

Gwilym’s chest tightened. Twenty-two. That made him thirteen years older than you. He forced all thoughts of your beauty down, tucking them away forever. Besides, you were a student and he was your teacher, at least for this semester.

“She’s graduating in December,” Dr. Curtis went on. “We’ll be very sorry to lose her. But I’m sure we’ll see her soon enough on Broadway!”

Your eyes remained fixed on Gwilym’s face. His expression shifted when Dr. Curtis had mentioned your age, but you couldn’t put your finger on the emotion. You figured that was expected. You hardly knew how to phrase what you were feeling. 

“Who knows?” Gwilym said. “Maybe she’ll come to the West End.”

“If you steal this girl from New York City, we will never forgive you,” Dr. Curtis teased.

The two of them walked away together, Gwilym looking back at you just once more. You offered a soft smile before he turned away.

“Well,” said Sloan with a sigh. “I bet you’d let him kiss you before you were engaged.”

You elbowed her.

“Shut up!” you groaned. “He’s our teacher. That’s weird.”

“Not that weird,” Andrew pointed out. “There’s like, loads of porn out there about just that.”

“Ew!” you replied. “You just made it even weirder.”

He shrugged. “I’m just saying!”

“Well, don’t just say,” you said. “You guys are being ridiculous.”

You ignored the skeptical look they exchanged.

Finally, Sloan’s sister arrived with her daughters, Lily and June, who were playing Tootie and Agnes (the youngest Smith sisters) in the show, respectively. With them there, you could start from the beginning.

You were basically doing another read through. It was so early on, and this was Gwilym’s chance to see each of you read as your characters. Since Dr. Bennett’s husband was no longer able to play Mr. Neely the iceman, Gwilym filled in. A jolt of excitement went through you at seeing a real actor like him perform. Though you weren’t familiar with his work, he was still in exactly the career you wanted for yourself. You made mental notes of everything he did as he read. You quickly saw just how talented he really was.

As class drew to a close, Gwilym was giving everyone pointers. Edith thanked him excessively. You and Sloan met each other’s gaze and you both rolled your eyes. 

“Y/N,” Gwilym said as he came to you for his critique. “Excellent work today.”

You paused, waiting for him to give you something to improve on. When he didn’t you just lowered your head and thanked him, blushing again.

“Right, well, since we’ve only got five minutes left, let me just say, I’m very excited about this semester,” Gwilym said, looking around at all of the class. “I think this is going to be a wonderful show, and I feel incredibly…” his eyes found yours and he froze. “Lucky. I really look forward to seeing how the semester goes.”

The whole time, he had held your gaze. When he looked away, he dismissed the class. You quickly retrieved your things and hurried out of the auditorium. The feelings you got when he looked at you were terrifying, especially considering the positions you were in. You inwardly scolded yourself. There was no way a man like that would be interested in you. He was too handsome, too successful, and too...too much older than you.

“Hey, Y/N!” Andrew called as he and Sloan jogged to catch up with you outside. “Why are you sprinting out of here?”

“Sorry,” you muttered. “I just...I need to get to the library.”

“For what?” Sloan asked.

“For a secret rendezvous with Gwilym,” Andrew joked.

During class, Gwilym had asked that you not refer to him as “Professor” or “Mr. Lee.” He wanted everyone to use his first name. His justification for which was that you were all adults. This wasn’t a lecture hall, and he considered the show something collaborative between himself as the director and the class as cast and crew.

“Don’t be ridiculous,” you snipped. “Edith was the one drooling over him.”

“Oh, God,” Sloan chuckled. “I hope we haven’t abandoned him to fend her off on his own.”

“Nah, Dr. Curtis is there,” Andrew replied. “He’ll swat her away if he has to.”

“Are you sure you’re okay, Y/N?” Sloan asked. “You look rattled.”

“It’s just…” you trailed off. You spotted the perfect excuse emerging from the theater as well. “Daniel.”

Daniel, who played your brother in the show, was your ex. You performed together in a showcase last semester, and had fallen for each other while rehearsing “We Kiss in a Shadow” from The King and I. But over the summer, when he went home and you stayed at school, he cheated on you. When you found out, you ended things immediately. He didn’t protest.

“Oh,” Sloan said with understanding. “It sucks that he’s in the capstone class with us.”

“Don’t worry about that cheating asshole,” Andrew added. “You’ve got one last semester here, and you should just enjoy it.”

You smiled. “You’re right, I should.”

“Now come on,” he said. “Let’s get to the dining hall, I’m starving.”

You started to follow your friends. Then, Gwilym and Dr. Curtis came out of the auditorium. Gwilym’s eyes - as if drawn by some magnetic force - found yours once more. He grinned and waved. You wiggled your fingers back shyly. Your heart rate quickened and you took a deep breath to try and steady it. You watched Gwilym go until he disappeared around the corner.

“Y/N?” said Andrew. “You coming?”

You shook your head to clear it. 

“Yep!” you assured him, and hurried over, following your friends.

You didn’t see Gwilym shoot you one last look over his shoulder.

After lunch, you did go to the library. You needed to pick up a couple books for a paper you were writing on Shakespeare in another class. You loved classics, so you’d jumped on the opportunity to take a class entirely on the famous playwright. Sloan and Andrew had other classes, so you were on your own as you perused the shelves, scanning the spines of the volumes until at last you found the one you were looking for.

“Good choice,” said a voice from behind you, making you squeak and jump with fright.

You whipped around to come face to face with Gwilym. It was actually more like face to chest. He was well over a head taller than you.

“Sorry,” he chuckled. “Didn’t mean to frighten you.”

“You didn’t,” you lied.

He raised an eyebrow at you.

“You just surprised me, that’s all,” you said. “Anyway, I’m glad you approve. I’m writing a paper and validation of sources is important.”

“That is important,” he agreed. 

“What are you doing in the library?” you asked.

“Browsing, really,” he said. “Since I’ve got so much time off, I’d like to read some more.”

“Time off?” you questioned. “You’re teaching a class.”

He shrugged. “I’m really acting as more of a director. Not that I’m complaining. But, I’ve always thought about teaching.”

You smiled. “I think you’ll be great. We’ll learn from you no matter what.”

He felt his cheeks warm. “Thank you.”

“You do have a sort of professor-y vibe,” you said. “I mean, your blazer has elbow patches on it.”

He laughed and you felt your heart race.

“It is sort of dorky isn’t it?” he joked.

You looked earnestly into his eyes.

“I didn’t say that.”

You looked at each other for another long moment. You felt certain that his eyes would be the death of you. That he would one day look a moment too long at you and your heart would explode out of your chest.

You cleared your throat.

“If you’re looking for something good to read,” you said, killing the moment. “Try that one.” You pointed to a book on the next shelf. “It’s about Shakespeare’s sonnets and how they reflect his view of women. Interesting stuff.”

He pulled it delicately down and looked it over. 

“I think I will,” he said.

“And when you’re done, you can tell me your thoughts,” you blurted out. “And we can talk about it…”

He smiled kindly down at you. “I’d like that very much.”

“Great!” you said, just a little too loudly. “Sorry. Um, that’s great. But I’ve got to get to my next class, so I’ll see you on Thursday?”

“Unless something drastic happens, you will,” he replied.

You grinned. “See you later...Gwilym.”

His name rolled from your tongue comfortably. With one last meaningful look, you disappeared from behind the shelf. He stood there, book in his hand, stricken by how much you already affected him.

“Y/N…” he said to himself. Then he smiled. He really was looking forward to this semester.

[bytheangell]

Support System - Chapter 4

When Alec's favorite show gets cancelled and he takes to messaging customer service repeatedly to show his support, he doesn't expect to connect so well with the support representative he keeps getting paired off with. 

Chapter 4: Alec works up the nerve to come back to the chats. An unexpected run-in doesn’t play out like Magnus hopes. Read it from the start on AO3! 

Magnus goes home and finishes season 1 before falling into a restless sleep sometime after noon. He’s so full of racing thoughts on theories and some emotions after watching the wedding episode, the implications of everything that was about to change for the main characters, especially after that goddamn cliffhanger . Everyone was right, it certainly got better with every episode - no wonder the fanbase was so up in arms to keep it going. He can barely convince himself to stop there and try to get some sleep… not that it works.

He wakes up on and off throughout the day, never sleeping for more than an hour before blinking awake, falling in and out of the haze of interrupted dreams. When he wakes for the final time at the sound of his 8:00 pm alarm he feels like he barely slept at all and knows he’ll need to leave a little early to grab some coffee before work if he is going to make it through the overnight hours without falling asleep at his desk.

When his usual spot is closed for repairs, or water damage, or something (he’s too annoyed to read the whole sign before looking up the next closest coffee shop on his phone, just praying he wouldn’t miss his train), he starts to wonder if he should bother getting his hopes up for another  chat with Alec at the rate his luck is going.

He doesn’t miss his train, thankful that at least one thing works out, and punches in with seconds to spare before the start of his shift. The first hour drags on with no sign of Alec - he’s already asked Ragnor and Cat to text him if they get connected with him first, knowing full well he will never hear the end of it from either of them at this point.

And then it happens. His breath catches in his chest and he smiles wide at the screen, immediately forgoing all formalities. He doesn’t want to give Alec a chance to run again, or any reason to think he doesn’t want to talk to him.

You are Connected with Customer: Alec L. Magnus: Welcome back! I wasn’t sure I’d see you on here again. Alec: I wasn’t sure I’d come back, so that makes two of us. But here I am. Magnus: Here you are. Magnus: I’m glad you did. Magnus: Come back, that is.

There’s a long pause and Magnus is afraid he lost him again. Figures, with the way his night was going, that Alec would come back just for Magnus to scare him off again. He frowns at the screen, typing hurriedly again, not wanting to make the same mistake as last time.

Magnus: Hello? Did I lose you? Alec: No, sorry, I’m still here. Magnus: Good. I was afraid I scared you off again. I’d hate to lose my favorite client. Alec: I bet you say that to everyone. Magnus: Absolutely not. These are the best conversations I get all night. Alec: I thought maybe after yesterday… Magnus: Don’t worry about it. Alec: I’m really sorry. I never should’ve pried like that. Magnus: Really, it’s fine. I don’t mind. Honestly, it’s nice to be talked to like I’m a real person for once and not just some robot in a chat spitting out pre-written responses. Alec: Alright. Thanks. Magnus: For what? I didn’t do anything. Alec: Right. Well, it’s pretty late and I should get some sleep, but I suppose the usual ‘hey you guys should save The Hunt’ should be noted. Magnus: Duly noted. And before you leave this time, the answer is 29. Alec: The answer to what? Magnus: Your question from yesterday. Magnus: And if you have any other questions, please don’t hesitate to ask. This chat has ended.

Magnus has to fight the urge to include an actual winking face at the end of the last line, but he’s smirking at his own cleverness in dispelling any concerns Alec clearly still has lingering over whether or not Magnus was put off by him asking personal questions. He’s well aware that if anyone goes through these logs he’s going to be in a lot of trouble, but he’s also well aware that no one ever does unless there’s a complaint. As long as they don’t have any reason to look into him, he’s fine. It’s a gamble he’s willing to make.

The rest of the night passes by uneventfully, with no more signs of Alec. He has nice chats with the other customers, easier now that he has an entire season of The Hunt under his belt to bond over and prove he’s on their side. Magnus is surprised to realize that each name that comes cross his screen comes with the smallest pang of disappointment and tries his best to ignore it. It gets easier the more he falls back into his routine and allows the monotony of the job to take over.

What he can’t ignore is the way his heartbeat triples in speed at the sight of those five letters mere minutes before his shift is over, after he already gave up all hope of seeing it again that night.

You are Connected with Customer: Alec L. Magnus: Perfect timing, you’re my last customer of the night. Alec: Oh, sorry, I don’t want to keep you! Magnus: No, no, it’s fine.  I’m more than happy to stay here as long as you’d like to chat. I promise, you’re the farthest thing from an inconvenience.   Alec: I accidentally overslept, so it’ll be a short chat anyway. My sister will kill me if I’m late for work. Magnus: You work with your family? How’s that going for you? Alec: We get along surprisingly well, actually. She’s the one who got me into The Hunt. Apparently taking pieces home from work to finish in my free time didn’t count as a proper ‘relaxing hobby’, so she convinced me to start watching tv to unwind. It was supposed to be something mindless, but now here we are. Magnus: Speaking of!  I didn’t get to tell you earlier but I finished season 1. Consider me a permanent fan, I’m seriously invested now. Alec: I can’t believe you watched the whole first season already! Magnus: At first it was just so I had some idea what the lot of you were going on about in these chats. But I could barely stop at the end! I almost called in sick just to start season 2 after that cliffhanger. Alec: Just you wait. Season 2 gets even better. Magnus: I don’t have to wait much longer - I’ll probably get a few episodes in once I leave here. BUT THAT WEDDING. I’m glad I stopped watching with Ragnor after that first day or I’d never hear the end of it - I got more than a little emotional. Alec: If you didn’t I’d question what you said earlier about you not being a robot. Magnus: I can’t believe they’re taking this off the air.   Alec: Me either. If it wasn’t for watching this with Iz we wouldn’t be half as close as we are now. I’d hate to lose that. Alec: Shit, it’s getting late. I should head out. Enjoy season 2! I want to hear all of your reactions next time. Magnus: Until next time! This chat has ended.

Magnus packs up and heads home with a small, content smile on his face despite the exhaustion that begins to settle over him along the way, the soft rocking of the subway almost lulling him to sleep in his seat when the train jolts to a stop and he gets off. He walks the streets of Brooklyn at a leisurely pace, glancing along the glass displays of several shops lining one of the busier areas. Magnus decides to stop at the second-rate coffee shop on his way home for a little pick-me-up to keep him awake for another hour or two, and he’s walking in through the door when someone on their way out barrels into him, clipping his shoulder hard as they nearly sprint through the doorway.

“Hey! Watch where you’re--” Magnus starts, but the words trail off at the sight of one of the most handsome men he’s laid eyes on in a long while. He’s tall, 3-4 inches taller than himself, wearing a suit that appears poorly tailored to what he is certain is a much better frame than the loose fitting fabric implies. But his slightly disheveled dark hair and wide, impossibly warm hazel eyes immediately erase the anger Magnus initially felt at being run into.

“Sorry,” the other man says immediately, and Magnus notes the slight flush that crosses the higher regions of his cheeks and back towards his ears as he meets Magnus’ gaze with a sheepish grin. That apologetic smile drops immediately into a frown as he notices the splash of coffee that spilled out of his cup and over the arm of Magnus’ light purple dress shirt. “Shit.”

“Don’t worry about it,” Magnus says, waving his hand dismissively. Flirting with someone this attractive certainly takes precedence over being angry at a few drops of coffee on his sleeve.

“That was totally my fault. I’m running late and I don’t usually stop here, so I--”

“Really, it’s fine.” He insists, cutting off the rambling with a charming smile. And something strange crosses the taller man’s face at those words, just as Magnus has a little moment of deja vu himself upon realizing it’s the second time that day he said those exact two sentences, but it passes just as quickly as it came.

The man looks like he wants to be relieved, but isn’t entirely convinced. “Are you sure? I could pay to have it dry-cleaned.”

Magnus shakes his head side-to-side emphatically. “I’m positive. Nothing a little stain remover can’t fix. But thanks for the offer.” He  gives the man another quick up-and-down (hardly being subtle, though he’s pretty sure he catches the other giving him the same sort of appraising glance) before impulsively adding, “You know, on second thought, you could pay me back with a drink sometime. I certainly wouldn’t say no to that.” And there is no denying the implications behind the flirtatious tone coupled with his most charming smile. It never hurt to try.

At this the tall man with the coffee turns an impressive shade of crimson, eyes immediately finding something of great interest on the ground by his shoes. “No, I-- sorry, I’m not… I mean, I can’t--”  

The poor guy. Magnus gives a soft laugh to dispel any building tension and a kind, understanding smile. “It’s fine! Not the first time I’ve been turned down, and it won’t be the last. But you can’t blame a guy for trying.” He shrugs, and the other man looks up again just long enough for Magnus to give him a quick wink before slipping into the coffee shop, figuring he could save them both the awkwardness of trying to end their brief conversation after all that.

Of course, that doesn’t stop Magnus’ gaze from drifting back through the window one last time as the coffee man takes a moment to collect himself, eyes lingering shamelessly on his  retreating form as he hurries off down the street. Pity. He really was gorgeous.