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#note keeping strategies
dduane · 9 months
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I am curious since I've seen stuff of yours mentioning the worldbuilding work being important (and because your Young Wizard series was hugely influential in the way I build worlds): Where do you put all the worldbuilding work? A notebook? A Google Doc? A file somewhere on a computer? Scattered sticky notes? Messages to friends? Do you try to keep it all organized?
I have no choice but to keep it organized, because if I don't, I'm screwed. :) ...And this isn't just a side effect of being 70+, but of having numerous projects going at once, all in wildly varying stages of development... and ideas for any of them are likely to pop up at any time.
Over time I've learned to keep separate projects' notes well separated from one another, to prevent confusion. Additionally, some kinds of notes are better for some projects than others. If the worldbuilding is mostly to do with character business and stuff going on inside people's brains, something that supports long-format typed notes will be best. For something that needs artwork, drawings, diagrams or calculations, something more graphics-oriented may work better. I usually find out what works best as as I go along, and stage newer notes accordingly.
In the past I've often used (physical) notebooks, but I don't any more, as it takes more effort than I care to expend to move things off the paper and onto the screen / into the file. (For those wondering: I normally compose directly into the computer, either by typing or [Dragon Anywhere-mediated] dictation. If a piece of work is giving me more trouble than usual, I'll sometimes break down and compose on paper, with a fountain pen: thanks for the hint, @neil-gaiman. Sometimes slowing things down does make a difference) :) ...Then I read the pen-generated material into the machine.
Probably the modality I use most often now for worldbuild material is Scrivener, for reasons I discussed a little over here the other day. It lets you store notes alongside your prose material, or in a research "folder" down at the bottom of your project: and it keeps it all together.
But I'm not always sitting down in front of the machine. Sometimes ideas pop out when you're on the road: or you're working on one project and something pertinent to another one comes up. So at such times I use:
Evernote. It syncs seamlessly among all the devices I use, and you can get at it from wherever you are in a browser or from a smartphone or tablet.
A voice recording app. I've got one in the iPad and one on my phone. If I'm somewhere without broadband and can't use Dragon, the saved audio can be fed into it later. Dragon'll then transcribe what I said and email it to me for inclusion in whatever note-keeping software I'm using. Right now on the iPad I'm using an app called Voice Recorder, and on the (Android) phone one that (mysteriously) also called Voice Recorder.
These are desperately handy for when an idea comes to you in the middle of the night and your handwriting's not to be trusted or you don't want to turn on the light for fear of waking up whoever else is in the bed. Fumble around for the recorder, turn it on, mumble your note in and go back to sleep. Just make sure you've actually turned it on. And off. :)
Sticky notes. I do use them, but I don't let them sit around: it's too easy for a passing breeze to blow them off the table / desk / whatever and under the fridge, where you'll never see them again. These normally get transcribed into electronic storage immediately, or stuck onto my desk in a spot where they have to be dealt with immediately; or (in the case of really important notes) stapled to several others that in same cases have been there for years. ...Notes not immediately transcribed get stuck into a notebook which I clean out carefully once a month, along with the other note-taking apps.
Another kind of sticky notes, of which I'm really fond, is this app for the iPad, called Tatter. It allows you to open multiple "notebooks" that can house what seem to be an unlimited number of stickies. Supports images, as well.
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A wiki on a stick. If there's a lot of data coming down the pipeline at once, it's handy to have something to stick it into in which short articles can be linked easily to one another. You can export / cut-and-paste these into your main work file as necessary. Then at the project's end, you just zip the wiki's contents up and put it away somewhere, on disk or in the cloud, as you prefer. (Because who knows what its contents might come in handy for, some years from now...?) TiddlyWiki is good tor this kind of thing.
Anyway: the secret of successfully managing an array of note-taking methods like this is to set aside a day once a month to go through them all, making sure that notes that are worth something will be tucked safely into the project file associated with them. If you're not using a program like Scrivener that provides its own storage, this space can as easily be a folder on your desktop, or even a series of printouts. But the most important thing: back them up somewhere safe. Worldbuilding notes are some of the most painful to lose. ...I keep a set of mine in Dropbox, and an additional set in my laptop, and once a month I email a zipfile of the most crucial ones to myself.
If this sounds like a lot of work: that's as may be... but it's worth it. I mean, we're talking worlds here. Until they're safely out where people can see them on paper or on the screen, you are their only guardian.
At any rate: HTH!
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goldensunset · 3 months
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oh i forgot sometimes important trainers have dialogue in battle. i’m glad i looked up at the screen for a split second
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Okay quick question because I was thinking about timeline stuff again:
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chiropteracupola · 2 years
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king of wands / six of wands
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ruinakete · 2 months
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croissant - what is your muse's ideal date?
PASTRY LOVE HEADCANONS ・ not accepting!
going to be real honest with you all ... I can't think of one that would work ten out of ten times. I don't believe that she would even enjoy dates? or, at the very least, expect to enjoy them? she'd likely see them as a nuisance ... ?
now, this is if it's the common idea of a date, which is dining together somewhere nice and having light conversations. Zephia hardly cares about eating or food, and dislikes idle chatter that is only meant to pass the time, so I think she'd expect you to pay her back for giving you her divided attention since she'd get bored halfway through the starter courses. especially if it's a luxurious dinner.
however! if the date was something simple, like discussing quaint topics ranging from the transformation of dark magic to its user to the best strategies to capture a fortress with x soldiers and x supplies, then she'd enjoy that! having small debates in her office, with the lights low and dinner being something small and easy.
the only other ideal date for Zephia that I can think of right now is flying together; whether you're on her wyvern or commanding your own mount. at her wyvern's side is, of course, where I see her being at her utmost serenity, and that's likely the only time you can keep her on a date for a long time. this isn't to say her eyes absolutely brighten and she does that little cute head tilt that moves her hair if you ask her for an afternoon of flying, but her eyes absolutely brighten and she does that little cute head tilt that moves her hair if you ask her for an afternoon of flying—
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missjessefantastico · 9 months
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i no longer want irl friends, i wanna be bitchy instead
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exopelagic · 14 days
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I am in an OBSCENELY good mood considering everything
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questioningdragons · 8 months
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Can I please go back to sneezing and the resulting runny nose being my primary allergy symptom? This everything is itchy bullshit is driving me up the wall.
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rhizomehaunt · 9 months
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real "my brain is eating itself" hours rn
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yuellii · 7 months
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PLEASE ( DON’T ) BE MY WINGWOMAN !
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𝐈𝐍 𝐖𝐇𝐈𝐂𝐇 his female best friend tries to help him win your love, but knowing her, it all goes wrong
feat. lyney, neuvillette, ayato ( separate )
note. gn reader, features : lynette, furina, ayaka. hello i am officially back and also officially 21 !! :]
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LYNEY.
“Oh, woe is me! Please assist, my dearest sister!” The magician sat sprawled atop the couch quite dramatically, backhand over his forehead feigning feverish feelings. “Whatever shall I do when the God of Romance is plotting against a hopeless romantic, such as I?”
“What’s wrong this time?” By contrast, his sister’s voice proved no fluctuations, tone lacking the honeyed sound he needed for sympathy. Instead of catering to his sorrows, she instead sipped lightly at her tea, for it was far more relaxing than her brother’s ‘woes.’
Still, Lyney sighed. “The love of my life—my soulmate!” he cried out. “How should I win the affections of my other half, when I can’t even grasp the scale of romantic favor?”
“Desserts.”
Lyney sat up. “I beg your pardon?”
“Give desserts,” Lynette shrugged. “Everyone likes desserts.” This reasoning totally made the most sense to her.
She watched as Lyney started at her blankly for just a moment, and then he inhaled sharply. “So I should… use desserts as my gift…” With each passing word, Lynette watched as a staggering excitement in his voice grew tenfold. “And then, if I keep giving their favorite treats”—Lyney gasped—“they’ll start to associate the sweetness with me! Oh, Lynette, you’re a genius!”
Lynette blinked at him. That strategy explanation was not what she said at all, but whatever. Not her problem.
But when Lyney dragged her by the hand to go purchase desserts, and then forced her to sit down at the cafe just to watch him gift treats to you, then maybe it was her problem.
“A very special dessert!” he presented, and Lynette sat with disinterest as she watched your eyes light up at his cheap old appearance trick. “For a very special person.” And now came her own eye roll—caused by the way Lyney giggled to himself at the end of his own sentence.
Maybe it was charming ( but personally Lynette didn’t see the appeal ), because there was a sparkle that appeared in your eyes in admiration of him. And suddenly, Lynette didn’t understand why he was trying to win your love at all, because it’s clear to her that he’s already won it.
“This is for me?” she heard you say. “This is actually my favorite! Oh, Lyney, you shouldn’t have!”
“Don’t even worry,” she watched Lyney wave off. “It was given to me for free at the shop”—Huh?—“and I have no space for it”—What was he…?—“so I thought you might like it!”
Lynette blinked to herself. Then she blinked to herself again. And then one more time, and now Lyney was back to her spot with you no longer in sight. “How did I do?” Lyney excitedly questioned her. “A good start, right? Step one of your idea to get my crush to become obsessed with me is complete!”
Okay first of all, that was literally not her idea, but maybe she should’ve communicated it better. And second, “Why did you lie? That dessert wasn’t free—You specifically bought it to give to them.”
Lyney immediately raised a finger with that confident smirk of his. “Because, my dear sister,” he began, “it’s called playing hard to get.”
If she could sigh, she would. “You can’t be serious.”
“I am! And I’m taking this game very seriously, too. Do you know how hard it is to keep my cool when I’m around the love of my life?!”
“Playing hard to get just makes it harder to get someone, Lyney. They might lose interest and move on.” But still, Lyney insisted. And still, Lynette just silently rolled her eyes.
The next time this happened was literally only a day later. So much for playing “hard to get,” she supposes. Perhaps Lyney didn’t quite fully understand the scope of how suspicious it was to offer you another “free dessert” only a day later. Or, he was just so lovestruck he absolutely could not wait to talk to you again.
Lynette decided the answer to be the latter option.
And once again, he claimed not to buy this dessert on his own, and Lynette did not miss the obvious eyebrow raise you gave her brother this time. You were still grateful since it was your favorite, of course, but it was rather clear you were beginning to question this. Lynette sighed to herself.
“Lynette!” Lyney called excitedly once he left you. “Oh, dear sister, did you see it this time? She stayed with me a bit longer—grabbing the plate much more slowly. She must have been at the start of falling in love with—!” Lyney stopped when he saw the empty seat. “Uh, Lynette?”
Farther away, you suddenly yelped in surprise, almost dropping the plated dessert in your hands.
“Sorry,” Lynette mumbled. Oops, she didn’t mean to scare you. But… maybe appearing in your field of sighs so suddenly once you turned a corner and coming from a darkened alleyway was not the most subtle.
“It’s alright,” you brushed of. “Oh, you must be Lynette, right? Lyney’s sister!”
“Correct.” Ah, how would she bring this up? She was never really the best with words… And definitely not when she had to use a lot of them. “Um, my brother,” she started. “Don’t mind him being weird.”
At the mention of her brother being weird ( perhaps she should defend him, but whatever, he was being weird. ), you seemed to relax. “Yeah…” you trailed off. “He’s been giving me these desserts lately—didn’t seem too coincidental that he keeps getting them for ‘free’… Especially since they’re, um, not even having a promotion right now.”
Again, if Lynette could wack her brother on the head right now, she would.
“He likes you.”
The sudden shock on your face tells Lynette that maybe she shouldn’t have said that so bluntly. Or that she shouldn’t have said that. At all.
“You’re a very dear friend to him,” she correct. Oh, wait, but she didn’t want to completely shut off the idea of romance. Correct it again, quick. “Or, very dear person… Yeah.”
You stayed quiet for a moment, probably trying to process the amount of confessions and corrections she just shot at you. Archons, you probably thought her and her brother were so weird. Unfortunately, she couldn’t blame you.
“Thanks, Lynette,” you said, and she noticed your feet shift to walk away. “Actually, I think I’ll keep that in mind for next time.”
Well, Lyney certainly hoped you would. She just silently watched as you walked off. But she wasn’t worried, no. As long as you spoke of this “next time,” Lynette was sure her brother would eventually succeed with you, even if he was being weird at this game.
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NEUVILLETTE.
The thing that gets Furina the most excited—absolutely elated, much shown in the way she kicks her feet and patters her fingers—is the fact that her dear Iudex has no idea he’s so in love with you.
To not only her, but also the rest of Fontaine, word is quick to spread with the simple way his feet always end up turned in your direction, or how lips curve a slight upwards motion when he speaks to you. Or, the way his feelings of admiration brings out the colors in his eyes, and the shyer tone in which he laughs along with you.
And Furina, being the bestest of friends she certainly is, only wants what’s best for the Chief Justice, truly! It’s such a downer seeing him be a quiet, unsociable, hard-to-get-along-with loner all the time. And so, the moment she catches wind of his feelings, she is more than quick to come up with a way to loop the two of you together.
She pats herself in the back. She’s confident that he’ll totally thank her for all her efforts later.
This confidence still yet remains even when she has you standing up nervously on trial, wide eyes a bit scared to be accused of a crime by the Hydro Archon herself. And Neuvillette atop his seat looks exasperated, much so in a way the audience is always eyeing him with fluttering eyes and chattering whispers—because the Iudex is looking at you with such a public display of concern that he has never been known to show another on trial.
Oh, she could already see the Steambird’s morning headlines! Chief Justice Neuvillette casts eyefuls of worry towards the accused?! Or, The Iudex’s rumored lover: Accused by Lady Furina?! —Oh, oh! She was so excited!
Amidst her internal giggles was when Neuvillette’s cane came hammered down on the wooden floor of his balcony seat, silencing every voice in the Opera Epiclese. “Furina,” his voice scatters as firm as ever, though the Archon could some people gasp to themselves—Ah, she could always trust her people to spot even the slightest difference in his voice; He was clearly angrier today! “I believe you have some explaining to do.”
“Is it not obvious, my dear Iudex?” she loudly proclaimed as if acting in a performance. Her voice was playful and teasing as always, and she could tell Neuvillette was much more annoyed by it than usual today. “I am pressing charges against a darling citizen, yet a criminal over here…!”
And that was when she threw the back of her hand over her forehead for dramatic effect, making you only more nervous upon your stand. Such an increase in your fear was clearly noticeable to the Iudex, of course, as he immediately spoke to silence the Archon accusing you.
“And what would those charges entail, Furina?”
There was a sudden glare in his eyes, almost threatening. But oh well, nothing he could do—She knew he would stick by the law and allow her to make her claim anyways. This was so easy, she could almost laugh to herself!
“For…”
Oh, celebration was already at the back of her mind!
“Murder!”
…Holy shit. Oh Archons. She was supposed to say theft. “Theft,” for stealing Neuvillette’s heart. But instead she slipped up and said murder.
Oh, she can’t take that back now. But… But no worries! She was the beloved Archon that had absolutely no issues performing for her people—ergo, she could totally come up with a new plan! Certainly, a single-word slip-up will surely not mess up her entire pickup line here.
“Yes, you heard me,” she played along, hands balling to fists and dramatically sitting at her hips. “Murder!”
“Furina!” Neuvillette silenced from his place below on the podium. Never before has she seen his facial expression this angered. There was a furrow between his brows that betrayed his usually calm and emotionless look—and aw, she thought it was so romantic for him to show these emotions so outwardly just for you! The audience must love his display of passion right now—all to defend your honor! “What is the meaning of this?” his voice boomed.
Furina cleared her throat. “Murder…” she began to make her case against you. You, who looked up at her so fearfully. She almost felt bad. “For… For breathing…!” Wait, that’s not what she meant. “No, no, like murder… of breath— of my breath— no, of Neuvillette’s breath, I mean—” Okay, at this point, she just needed to spit something out. And that was when she raised a finger, pointing it accusingly down at you and making her claim: “You killed Neuvillette!”
The next instance was filled with a silence so deafeningly powerful that she felt her own stomach churn and her knees grow shaky. Well, this was definitely an embarrassment she hopes to never feel again.
Surely, this silence wasn’t awkward enough for her land the finishing blow…?
“Like, you stole his breath away…” she tried. “So you technically killed him.”
Okay maybe it was time for her to shut up.
Neuvillette’s face; oh, he looked absolutely furious. This was not the picture-perfect sight of cherry tomato blushing she was hoping for here. And you: a horror-stricken disbelief. Your mind looked like it was racing to comprehend both being charged with such a serious crime, and having the Chief Justice just randomly outed in public for… having a crush on you…?
Meanwhile Furina stood still in her usual place, just about ready to curl up and die from her failed attempt at a love confession. But before that, perhaps Celestia heard her prayers.
The audience pretty much erupted in girlish screams and whispers—all those watchful citizens of Fontaine who treated your relationship with Neuvillette like the hottest topic of the century, like the storybook romance they were reading obsessively. And now, Furina watched—watched as your expression contorted to slow realization that maybe your Archon wasn’t exactly lying about Neuvillette’s feelings, and that maybe almost the entire nation was already romanticizing you two.
And then, there: that was when Furina watched as your face blew up an expression of pure embarrassment, all the fear being completely wiped away. Then Furina could almost die when she turned her gaze to Neuvillette—who was still watching you very intently—and how the ends of his ears turned a blushing red.
Oh, this view was priceless. Once again, perfect Focalors saves the day!
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KAMISATO AYATO.
Thoma clicked his tongue. “Tall and awkward.” He squinted his eyes. “Practically unrecognizable in Inazuma despite your status.” Then, he tilted his head. “Absolutely terrible at small talk.”
Finally, Thoma nodded his head. “Yep, you don’t have a chance, my Lord.”
Thoma yelped as a paper fan hit his shoulder, and that was when Ayaka slid at the seat next to him. He made a quick apology to her, but when Ayaka looked across the table, she saw how her older brother didn’t seem quite phased at Thoma’s mean evaluation at all.
Instead, he seemed to be really considering what was told to him.
“Oh, brother,” Ayaka caught his attention. “Don’t listen to Thoma, he was only being mean. Personally, I think you have a good chance at winning this date!”
“No, no, Thoma might be right,” Ayato pondered. Aw, Ayaka didnt like it when he doubted himself. “All of those traits may make this date go horribly wrong—I might end up appearing as undesirable…”
Ayaka frowned. She may not have a love life of her own, but that didn’t mean she wasn’t watching her brother’s love life like an Inazuman drama act or like a romantic storybook. And the fact that Ayato has downright fallen tremendously hard for you—who Ayaka also loved dearly, and who she admired so much—makes her pray to the Archons every night for your relationship to set sail.
So Ayato scoring this first date with you was already a big deal on its own. Only… He wasn’t quite sure what date plan would make him the most appealing man to be courting you.
Of course, who else could he turn to, other than his darling best friend and sister? Ayaka certainly had no expertise in this, but if there was one thing…
“Brother, please take this!” Across the table, she shoved a stack of just a few papers, slightly faded and lightly wrinkled, into his hands. He blinked in surprise at them for a moment before squinting at the rushed handwriting that clearly did not belong to his sister. “The Traveler gave this to me; It’s a recipe for a pizza dish from Mondstadt!
And that was how she ended up here, watching with Thoma from the sidelines of the estate as Ayato gives you the friendliest smile can force upon himself as he offers to make the both of you food. Now, the last time Ayaka tried this, she blew up the oven with the Traveler in earshot. But surely, she knew her brother had much better survival skills than she did, and there was no way he would ruin a perfectly easy pizza recipe.
But then Thoma almost burst out laughing from their secluded hiding spot, and that was when she noticed her brother bringing out not one, but instead two platters of pizza. A rather odd aroma in the air. Oh.
“I thought we’d spice things up!” they heard Ayato say to you, clasping his gloved hands together and regaining his weird, excited smile and that equally weird, excited tone in his voice. Oh brother… “One pizza is normal, and the other pizza has random toppings I threw on it—as a taste test!”
And when he set the two down, it was… quite interesting. One was a normal mushroom pizza, cooked based on Traveler’s recipe: Ayato certainly made it much better than Ayaka could’ve attempted. But the second pizza was topped with a rather colorful palette: lavender melons, sea grass, and what looked like Sea Ganoderma. Ayaka and Thoma already found themselves gagging at the smell.
When Ayaka glanced at her blonde companion, he was furiously shaking his head at her, running a thumb straight across his throat as if saying “It’s over for him.” And honestly, Ayaka might have to agree this time. Maybe she should’ve never given him that pizza recipe or that cooking idea.
“A ‘taste test’…” you echoed. The two eavesdroppers heard shifts from your side do the table, meaning you reached forward to grab a slice—they quite obviously guessed you picked the regular mushroom pizza. “The host should go first, don’t you think?”
Oh? Did that mean you were interested in this game of two after all? Ayaka’s eyes practically lit up—She was so excited for her brother!
“I’ll take up that offer of yours,” Ayato chuckled lowly. And with no gag or hesitance at all, he takes a large bite with a whole unsavory mixture of the ingredients entering the cave of his mouth. “Mm, not bad at all.”
You were visibly surprised by his calmness, now reaching out to grab a slice of your own and biting it just as he did.
But almost immediately, that bite was spat right back out onto a napkin at the mere taste of this weird concoction. “Bleh, Lord Commissioner! How did you manage to eat a whole slice?!”
The first thing Ayaka and Thoma noticed: The way you said this was amidst laughter. You were laughing, and it even sounded like you were smiling. Because whenever Ayato tried this sort of gross mixing method with Thoma or Ayaka, they would also say the same line of disgust, but in an unfavorable way. But, no—You sounded genuinely lighthearted?
The second thing Ayaka and Thoma noticed ( from even the slightest of peeks ): The big, bona fide grin on Ayato’s face at your reaction. Oh, he was absolutely eating this up, as no one ever showed a positive reaction to his weird little hobby before. And of course, being partnered with the fact he was ( not-so ) secretly in love with you, only made it so much better for him.
“It was alright, I’d say!” he spoke excitedly, a hint of an uncontrollable laughter and uncontrollable smile laced in his voice. “It had the most memorable texture, and the taste felt like I was in touch with mother nature.”
You only scoffed at him in a joking manner, “None of those ‘compliments’ of yours weren’t inherently positive, Commissioner.”
To that, he gave you another big grin before silently reaching to eat yet another slice of this suspicious pizza. Well, Ayaka supposed her brother’s weirdness landing a perfect date with you, after all. And then she pat herself on the back—because maybe, giving him that recipe was the best mistake she could make.
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// not proofread ;; THIS WAS SUPPOSED TO BE FUNNIER THAN INTENDED. BUT IM BAD AT BEING FUNNY :(
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Roommate!Simon who, one morning, wakes up to an empty house and a 1000-piece puzzle on the coffee table with a note on it.
"When I was younger, doing puzzles was a way of keeping me grounded. Perhaps it might help you as well."
Roommate!Simon who can't help but smile faintly at the handwritten words and focuses his attention on the puzzle box, his brow furrowing at the sight of the picture containing cats. A lot of cats.
Roommate!Simon who is definitely not a fan of cats, but carefully places his tea on a coaster on the coffee table, turns the TV on a random music channel and spreads the puzzle pieces on the table, eyes slightly widening at how many there are.
Roommate!Simon who realizes he has to come up with a strategy to organise the pieces and even if his military-trained mind is tired of planning and strategising for missions, he has no problems in coming up with a sorting scheme
Roommate!Simon who is still bent over the table when you come home that evening, several fragments of put-together pieces lying scattered among piles of other pieces. He is so caught up in studying the reference image for a weirdly-patterned piece, that he does not hear the sound of the door opening and closing and almost tackles you to the ground when you crouch on the other side of the table, an amused look on your face.
'If you need a hand-'
Before you can finish your sentence, he scoots over and pats the empty spot on the couch. Yet instead of looking at the pieces and assessing the progress, your eyes are locked on his face and the fact that he ditched the mask and the balaclava.
'I can see you staring.'
'I don't know what you're talking about!', you lie through your teeth, busying yourself over a pile of unsorted pieces. You do not miss the way his lips twitch a little and you certainly cannot stop the hot blush that spreads across your face
You spend the rest of the evening hunched over the table, trying to connect as many pieces as possible. Your hands accidentally come in contact a couple of times, whether it's you reaching for a faraway piece or Simon trying to have a better look at the image, and you eventually come to accept the butterflies that seemed to make a home in your stomach
Roommate!Simon who eventually notices you're dozing off over the puzzle and tries to carry you to your room. When you refuse, he just rolls his eyes in his own dramatic manner, brings a weighted blanket from his bedroom and drapes it over you
Roommate!Simon who finishes the puzzle at two in the morning and dares to take a look at your sleeping figure. His thigh is numb from the weight of your head resting on it, but he doesn't mind.
His mind hasn't been so quiet in a long time. And the cats he spent hours piecing together are rather cute.
The cat puzzle I was thinking of when writing this
part one part two part three masterlist
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the-music-keeper · 1 year
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Okay. Objective #4 is done.
The research tasks are getting moved again, because this took all afternoon.
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Some cute Roland and Cordelia comics from the Triangle Strategy artbook!
Translation notes under the cut.
I feel pretty solid on the first comic, but I made a lot more guesses on the second.
The “huh?” is probably something more like “puh?” but since “puh” isn’t really something we’d use in English, I used “huh” instead.
The word I translated as “little” is probably more accurately something like “petite” (it generally means “small of stature”). That said, I used “little” because it felt like it fit a little better with the general this-was-written-by-a-kid style to the comic.
The line with the bugs gave me so much trouble haha. A lot of translation tools interpreted it as “catching a strange bug” and it’s entirely possible that’s an accurate translation, but it just felt like weird phrasing to me, and an odd thing for Roland to say out loud. I eventually found a dictionary entry that said “とったり“ refers to a specific martial arts/sumo move, the arm bar throw. I’m so glad I did, because that line really makes the whole comic haha. The arm bar throw is something you would usually do on an opponent that, you know, has arms, so the little doodle of Roland’s arm awkwardly holding the worm-bug-thing really cracks me up.
The caption at the bottom was also a little hard to parse, and I feel like I might be stretching the meaning a bit. The sentence might be better read as, “As it happened by chance a long time ago, he had a soft feeling that made him think, ‘I have to protect her!’“ But I went with the translation I did because I felt like it made a little more sense within the context. In particular: 
the first phrase didn’t perfectly match but it did seem to be associated with Japan’s version of “Once upon a time...”, and taking into account the association with a princess, “once upon a time” felt like it fit.
the word that meant “think” could also be interpreted as “assess” or “come to the conclusion” so “decide” felt like a better word than just “think”
since the arrow is pointing at Cordelia and Japanese seems to drop pronouns a lot, it seemed contextually like “her softness” was probably what they were going for instead of the more general “a softness/soft feeling”.
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sweets3rial · 2 months
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the tutor in dorm 24B
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inspired by this request
meantutor!re2!leon x fem!reader
summary: you have no choice but to go to your math professor for help in the class. unfortunately, he can't help you. but he knows a certain blonde that can, top of his class, perfect scores on everything, just the tutor for you.
tags: college!au, math/stats terminology, ooc leon, leon is an asshole, leon & reader have attitudes, dom!leon, slightly jealous leon, degrading kink, praise kink, leon talks you through it, smut, p in v, unprotected sex (use safety guys!), oral sex, cunnilingus, clit stimulation, teasing, etc.
word count: 9.8k 🧍‍♀️ (this shit long sorry)
math is horrible. you’ve never been bright in math, plus it isn’t fun. it’s only fun when you understand what you’re doing. especially statistics, which is a whole other level for math. there are symbols, very important definitions and strategies, formulas and techniques, very precise calculations and data.
you never understood what the teacher was writing up on the board when you’d step into lecture. he moved fast and spoke even faster, you’re hands would cramp trying to keep up with him and you’re notes were a jumbled mess.
even if you tried so hard, you just couldn’t understand. your mind was constantly running, like a hamster on a wheel though it was nonstop. it was the same schedule pretty much every day. you wake up, rush out of your dorm, race to class, get to class huffing and puffing, and you do this three more times for your other classes.
then after a long day of learning, you’re off to work at the cafe down the street. it’s a very famous cafe, especially with it being so close to campus. convenient for students who needed work and wanted a nice coffee.
after work, you’d go back to your dorm on the brink of passing out, but of course, you had to study.
it was a constant look, a constant cycle that seemingly never broke until summer break. your days were starting to blend together and you were slowly driving yourself insane. at one point, you put stats at the back of your mind since you were so focused on an essay for your english class.
little did you know that you’d pay for that in the future. you missed one class, one lecture - and it seemed like you missed a whole semester.
you went to class the next day, after turning in that very important essay, and you were completely lost. you tried talking to your classmate about what the professor was talking about but she was just as lost as you.
if you thought stats was hard before, it’s even harder now. you looked over your notes from before, trying to correlate those to the ones now. though, nothing made sense.
that led you to where you are now. a week later, still very much lost, and you’re grade dropping with every single assignment.
you toyed with the drawstring of your sweats, blinking your dry eyes and nibbling at the dry skin of your lip. you were trying so hard to stay awake as your professor scrolled through your grades. his eyes were squinted and his knuckles pressed to his lips.
he had a pensive look on his face, looking from your scores and back to you.
you could practically read his mind. it was embarrassing and shameful. he took off his glasses with a sigh and turned his chair to face you.
“you were doing really good in the beginning but after chapter three i mean,” he paused gesturing his head over to the computer where the D’s and F’s lined up like a pattern.
“what happened? chapter three was so long ago why didn’t you reach out?”
you never understood why some professors didn’t take students' lives into consideration. some professors think that students have no life while others are very considerate. this professor wasn’t one of those professors.
he didn’t understand why his students couldn’t understand his material or why people asked stupid questions. even though, at the beginning of the semester he mentioned:
‘even stupid questions are good questions’
then when that stupid question is asked. he sits there with a disappointed look on his face and quite literally embarrasses that student in front of everyone. which is why, you don’t ask questions at all. you don’t want to be embarrassed, especially not in front of 30 other people.
“i’m sorry, my life has just been really hectic lately and-“ you rambled, running your hands over your face with a heavy sigh. until, of course, you were interrupted.
“no worries, i understand but,” he paused again, judging you with his eyes and completely ignoring the fact that you were on the brink of a mental breakdown. “you gotta reach out for help if you need it.”
even if you tried, it probably wouldn’t help. his teaching methods are like tough love. harsh but it’s supposed to teach you a lesson. spoiler alert, it never does.
he reached over for a pen and a sticky note and you watched him scribble down a few numbers and a name.
“i can’t really help you since my life is also hectic,”
alright, asshole. you’re the fucking professor you should be helping me. you said to yourself, never in your life did you want to slap someone so bad,
“but i can refer you to one of my top students.” he pushed the sticky note toward you. you picked it up and read the name at the top, his dorm number, and his phone number.
great, just what you needed a tutor.
you weren’t sure how exactly this ’top student’ was passing this class with flying colors and it was to the point your professor was impressed. which he never is and never was.
either this top student is sucking your professor's dick behind the scenes or is actually insane.
you read the name at the top as your professor began to speak.
“his name is Leon, he’s gotten perfect scores on every quiz and test, very smart and a decent kid,”
yup, Leon is definitely sucking this man's dick.
Leon’s contact info and his dorm room were written underneath his name. it was odd that he didn’t tutor in the library like the rest of the tutors did. though, given the fact he’d rather tutor in his dorm, he probably isn’t a tutor at all.
“i contacted him before our meeting today, he’s expecting you.
“oh, okay.” you nodded slowly, pocketing the small slip of paper. you weren’t so sure if you were comfortable being alone in a random dorm with some guy you’ve never met, but for the sake of your grade you were willing to do so.
you finalized your meeting with your professor and left his office even more unsatisfied than when you came. you were hoping he’d give you a run down on what you missed but instead, he completely dismissed you to his top student.
you left the building phone and slip of paper in hand, you weren’t sure if you should text him or not. ultimately, you decided it could wait. you were exhausted and maybe a small nap would be helpful rather than going to this guy's dorm where you probably wouldn’t learn jack shit.
Leon waited for you. he was told to expect you around the afternoon, so he canceled his plans with his friends, he went home to his dorm, tidied up, and put on a more suitable outfit. he never wanted to be a tutor it was tiring trying to teach someone something over and over again.
plus, he had doubt in his skills as well. he would be to blame if someone were to get a bad score or if they failed their exam.
but when his stats professor made a deal with Leon, he decided to take it. if he were to tutor you and possibly future students, he’d put in a good word with any police academy he wanted to join.
Leon wasn’t so sure how his professor would get that to happen but it was better than nothing at all.
so he waited, half an hour went by and then an hour and another. at this point, he was tired both physically and mentally. he sat leaned onto his desk with an elbow, tapping his pen against his notebook. it didn’t take long for him to catch the hint that you weren’t coming.
and just as he was about to strip his clothes to take a nap, there was a knock at his dorm door. his hands dropped at his sides and a sigh left his mouth, though he tried to maintain a calm act even though he was close to bursting into flames.
he was irritated, you were two hours late, he was already drained from a long day of sprinting around campus for his classes and he just got dumped not too long ago. he does not have time to be in a good mood.
albeit, he still opened the door with a smile.
“hi, you must be-“
“yes, i’m so so sorry! i know i was supposed to be here hours ago,”
Leon let out a small laugh, mumbling under his breath, “yeah, you were…”
unfortunately, you heard that part, and your heart dropped. at first glance, this guy looks like a sweetheart. he had a nice face, his cheeks a little round but his jaw very defined and sharp. his eyebrows were relaxed and a thick brown, and his dirty blonde hair was split down the side and a little long — the ends just touching the height of his cheekbones.
his lips were plump and a nice pink, glasses were perched up on his head and you guessed he was probably wearing them earlier.
his chin had a small indent, a little butt chin almost. he had two beauty marks on his throat, right on his adams apple, and a few small ones on his face.
he wore a basic dark blue sweater, even with the baggy fabric you could still tell his shoulders were nice and broad and he paired his sweater with basic grey sweats.
he was very attractive, tall, and muscular but that baby face was throwing you off. it wasn’t a bad thing, rather it was intriguing. how are you supposed to focus when there’s a very attractive man tutoring you? maybe your professor is secretly setting you up.
“oh god, i’m so sorry. i probably should’ve gotten your number from our professor,”
“uh no worries, just come in.” he said in a hurry, opening the door further for you. you nodded to him a thank you and stepped inside.
his dorm smelt of fresh mint and lemon, there was a hint of spice in the air as well. it was pretty warm, which made you guess the heater was on.
he shut the door behind you, walking past you as you stayed in the doorway to slip off your shoes. you took around the room for a second. his bed was up against the left side of the room, away from the sight of the door. dark midnight blue sheet, with a matching duvet and pillowcases.
underneath his bed were a bunch of bins, probably clothes and extra storage. against the back wall was his desk, piles of papers and different books were all stacked neatly at the side. the large window above the desk allowed a natural hue of light to cast down into the room, giving the room a pale yellow glow.
against the other wall was a dresser and closet. his room was very generic, with some posters and photos taped to the walls and a whiteboard with messy scribbles depicting his schedule for the week.
“so uh, how much did the professor tell you?” he asked, sitting at his desk chair and swerving around towards you and he lowered his glasses down to his eyes. you took a few steps further into his dorm, adjusting the tote bag on your shoulder.
“um he just said to meet you here and that you could help,”
“well no shit,” he scoffed, catching you off guard and sending a tense feeling through your muscles. “did he say what you needed help with? which chapter? which concept?” he asked and each time you shook your head like a dumbass.
“i’ve kind of been struggling the whole semester i just-“
“why didn’t you get help earlier?” Leon asked curiously, tilting his head to the side. unlike your professor, who seemed actually concerned this time. but that concern was probably for himself instead of you.
“i was embarrassed, i guess,” you shrugged.
he sighed, dropping his head and nodding his it up an down.
“okay well, uh please sit anywhere really uhh,” he got up from his desk chair and walked over towards the other corner of his dorm. there was another small chair in the corner, albeit a bit old, and he brought it over to his desk.
“sorry, i’m not used to visitors.”
“no worries,”
you sat down on his old chair and placed your tote bag into your lap as he opened up his computer. you watched as he brought his glasses up in front of his eyes and opened up the course page. “so uh, what did you need help with?”
his tone was harsh, almost like your professors. you felt intimidated by him, he was smart and quite rude.
“um well, everything?” your answer sounded more like a question, causing him to raise an eyebrow up at you.
“i’m sorry, i can’t help you with everything,” he spat, turning his shoulders towards you with one elbow on his desk. “give me specifics, like which chapter?”
“every chapter, it just isn’t making sense to me and i-“
a sigh left his lips and his shoulders slumped, you could practically hear the thoughts running through his head. “alright well, i can help you with the first chapter,” he said with a shrug.
you nodded along, reaching into your bag for your notes.
“the first chapter is pretty basic. basic terminology and techniques we use throughout the class, ‘kay?” he began, speaking with his hands as he went. you nodded at him, placing your notebook at the edge of his desk and writing down what he just said.
anything counts, anything you could get would help. you needed to get a good grade in this class, if you had to retake it for the credit it would be a disaster.
“it’s mostly the types of data, the collections of data, the types of sampling — and those are the basics.” his eyes flickered from his computer down towards your hunched figure. you were writing down every single word he spoke. you’d repeat his words to yourself in silent whispers.
then, as you finished writing, you looked up at him and waited for him to continue but he was left speechless. you really were desperate.
“tell me, do you know any of the terminology in chapter 1?” he asked, turning his full figure towards you. doing so, his knees were now touching yours. he didn’t miss the way you scooched back further in your chair to avoid his touch. cute.
“uh,” you hummed to yourself as you flicked through your notes and back to chapter one.
“no, no,” he stopped you, placing his hand over yours and bringing it back down into your lap. “tell me from memory, not from your notes.”
he watched you blink at him as if you were processing his words slowly, “uh yeah, i can do that.” you leaned away from his desk and your notes and faced him, your knees touching his again.
“i know sample versus population,”
“give me an example of both.” he cut you off again, leaning back into his chair and adjusting his hips.
“um, a population will be all the college students of our university but a sample would be just the engineer students,”
“good, at least you know that.”
you gave him a nervous laugh, a little more proud than you should be but his praise made you feel … good.
he continued to make you list what you know, making sure you knew every term by giving him real-life scenarios and every time you got it correct it was like a golden sticker was placed on your forehead. you were beginning to understand and, as ridiculous as it sounds, you were starting to have fun.
relating the different terms to real-life situations made it easy on you, rather than the unrealistic scenarios your professor gave you.
he let out a loud yawn and you caught a whiff of his minty breath, he’d been chewing on mint gum for the past hour now. throwing an old one away and popping in a new stick. you could tell he was getting tired, he was less responsive and blinking slowly.
“i think you should get some rest,” you told him. he looked over at you with a small ‘hm?’ before shaking his head, blonde hair sweeping over the bone of his brow and lips curling down into a frown.
“i’m fine,” he practically shouted out after another yawn, “let’s just finish it, ‘kay?”
“no, Leon, it’s okay we can continue another time.”
he stayed silent, his lips pursed as he looked down at your notes. gradually, his head began to bob up and down into a nod and another yawn left his mouth. this time, he stretched back, letting his sweater glide up slightly to reveal a sharp v-line and brown happy trail.
you quickly looked away and began to pack up your things, shoving your notebook and pencil case into your bag — not even bothering to shut or zip anything up.
“man, look at the time,” he said, lifting up his sleeve to reveal a black watch. “next time be on time, that way we have more time.” he smiled at you as you stood up.
you weren’t sure whether to take that as a friendly reminder or a warning but either way you nodded.
you made your way towards the door, slipping on your shoes and looking back at him to say goodbye. you expected him to still be seated at his desk or even going to lay on his bed. though, to your surprise, he was standing directly behind you.
hands stuffed in the pockets of his sweater.
“jesus!,” you jumped, “sorry, you surprised me.”
“uh, who else do you expect to lock the door behind you?”
you blinked up at him, again caught off guard. he was a little bipolar with his attitude, one minute he’s proud of you for getting something the next he’s making fun of you with his eyes.
“well, goodnight,” you said to him as you stepped out the door, he didn’t say anything else. he kicked the door closed and locked it the moment you stepped out.
you could feel your eye twitch, only if you could march back in there and beat the blue out of his eyes but he was just a tutor. just a few weeks of this and then you’ll never have to speak to him again.
-
“are you serious? we just went over this,”
“i’m sorry i blanked out,”
“no, you didn’t i was watching you giggle on the phone with that little boyfriend of yours,”
“first of all, why are you watching me? and second of all, i wasn’t on the phone with any boyfriend.”
he sighed, leaning back into his chair and crossing his arms over his chest. “i wasn’t stalking you, dumbass. your bright ass screen caught my attention and when i looked over voila it’s you.”
he leaned forward, pointing a finger at your face and squinting his eyes behind his glasses, “and who else would have you giggling like that in the middle of a lesson huh?”
to be honest, he didn’t like that you weren’t paying attention, it was more work on him because you always came crying to him about not understanding a topic. he didn’t necessarily hate tutoring you. sure, you guys had some fun times but it was beginning to become a part of his everyday life.
canceling plans on his friends, not going to the gym, and missing out on his personal time. his goal was to teach you and go over a chapter every week, it was working … slowly but surely.
“i saw a funny video, ‘kay?”
“wow, so you’re just sitting in class watching silly videos. no wonder why your brain is rotten.”
“hey, asshole, the professor wasn’t even talking about anything important. it was more about his dumbass grandkids,” you rebutted, grumbling your words toward the end of your sentence.
“if it wasn’t anything important, how come you don’t know what he just fucking talked about?” he said with a scoff.
you groaned and began to pack your things, you probably should’ve done this a long time ago. sure, Leon helps, but he belittles you in every way and it’s beginning to actually hurt. his rude comments and attitude.
he was like a hawk or a vulture, hovering over you every second of the day and then picking at you when you were alone. slowly tearing at your skin and ripping off flesh until he got to bone. he was always watching you.
you couldn’t go on your phone in class to check a text or even walk out early because he will know and will say something about it later. maybe it was time for another tutor.
“whatever, Leon. you’re not helping anymore.” you scoffed his way as you stuffed your computer into your bag.
“that’s where your wrong, your grades have been getting better, haven’t they?”
“what are you? my dad? you’re checking my grades now?”
only if he wasn’t so stupidly handsome, you would probably smack him across the face or maybe choke him out. there was something about Leon that you liked, unfortunately. he was intriguing, he knew so much about you but you didn’t know anything about him.
he wasn’t in the frat, thank god. he was smart and had a large group of friends. you always caught them hanging out in the private study rooms in the library, the ones they always made sure to book. they all would stay there and hang out like obnoxious fools.
it was rare to see Leon smile and laugh, he looked like a completely different person. his eyes gleamed differently and he had a specific glow around him. maybe the reason you saw him so much in public or outside of his dorm was because you looked for him.
you looked for him and that glow.
“i’m not, the professor told me.” he watched as you continued to pack, were you really leaving? was he too harsh? sometimes he was only ‘mean’ to you to elicit a reaction from you. it was cute to watch your jaw drop and your fingers twitch as if you wanted to hit him.
sometimes, you played along, insulting him back. it was amusing to watch your spark glow into a flame. he hated tutoring but he didn’t hate you.
“of course, you practically suck that man's dick during office hours,” you said to yourself but loud enough to let him hear.
“that’s hilarious,” he said, rubbing at his nose bridge where his glasses sat.
“you didn’t deny it.” you huffed turning to leave until you were, very abruptly, yanked back. his hand had wrapped around your wrist, holding you back from leaving.
you turned back to him, his head was tilted to the side and he silently motioned with his eyes towards your seat.
“sit, we’re not done.”
his tone sent chills up your spine but you still refused, only if he didn’t look so damn good.
“yes, we are.”
you yanked your wrist away from him but much to your prevail, that only prompted him to stand up, grab you by your hips, and push your right back down into your seat.
“no. we are not.”
you sat still, bag in your lap, eyes wide and lips shut. did he just…man handle you back into your seat?
he sat back down in his seat after you, rolling his jaw with a sniff. “where were we?”
you remained silent and still, you knew if you got back up to leave he’d only pull you back down into your seat. though, you would be lying if you said you didn’t like it. the minute his large hands fell onto your hips there was a burn that ran through you, and it wasn’t rage.
“what is variance?” he asked turning towards you.
“standard deviation squared,” you replied, very straight and mellow-toned.
a smile grew onto his lips, the blues of his eyes gleaming and his pearly white teeth slowly revealing from underneath his pink plump lips. “good, you’re getting the hang of it.”
ever since then, Leon was very comfortable with touching you and kind of controlling you. tugging you by your wrists, guiding you with his hand on the small of your back, touching your legs, or shoving you to get your attention.
you were slowly losing it. you couldn’t even think straight, he was such a distraction. his voice, his hands, his scent, everything. the way he dressed was always so casual but he always looked so good, basic sweats with graphic tees or a sweater.
glasses, hair sometimes a little messy. you noticed when he was very focused his tongue would stick out from the corner of his mouth, it was cute, to say the least. he’d scrunch his nose to keep his glasses up on his eyes, he rolled his ankle instead of bouncing his leg, and when he laughed.
it was boisterous and full of light. you never thought that you could make him laugh, even if he wasn’t laughing with you rather he was laughing at you.
-
“are you serious? it’s like you don’t retain anything at all, how did you even get accepted?”
that one kind of hurt but you were too focused on the brightness in his cheeks and his perfectly straight teeth.
“well the acceptance rate is pretty high so…” you shrugged turning back towards your notebook.
you kept on denying the fact that you very much had a crush. is it wrong to find someone attractive? no, not at all. it’s a regular thing to find people attractive, doesn’t mean you have a crush on them. but this … is different.
a month and a half in you were beginning to realize you very much had a crush on Leon. you were beginning to get used to him and he was getting used to you.
you looked forward to tutor sessions now, practically dropping everything to go and see him. you began putting on extra perfume and wearing your hair down rather than keeping it up.
you kept your attire casual, you didn’t want him to think that you were dolling yourself up for him. so pajama pants or sweats were your usual go-to.
little did you know, Leon noticed everything. he was keen to snuff people out. he could smell you from a mile away, that heavy fragrance of yours was slowly seeping into his clothes and his brain. even after months, everything you touched was beginning to smell like you.
he noticed how your makeup slowly became heavier and your hair was all nicely done for him.
to be frank, he was flattered. he hoped you were getting all dolled up for him and not the guy who constantly blew up your phone. who is he? is he a boyfriend? a relative? a crush? a friend? who is he?
Leon wants to know, who do you see throughout the day? who are your friends? what do you like? do you like him? do you hate him? every time he sees your face he just wants to know, who are you?
Leon sat at his desk, waiting for you. his hands were folded up to his mouth and his leg was bouncing anxiously. you’ve never been late, well except for that first day but other than that you were always on time. always.
the pillow you occasionally sat in your lap during these sessions was now in his lap. it smelt just like you. at first, he wanted to snatch it away from you the moment you put the pillow into your lap, hugging it against you and spreading your germs onto it.
but then, it was nice. it was your signature pillow, you looked for it every time you came over and placed it directly in your lap. now, he finds himself carrying it around or having it next to him while he sleeps. is that weird?
well, it was his pillow in the first place. what’s so wrong about having it in his bed? it’s comforting.
his eyes quickly flicked over when his phone screen lit up, he looked over at it quickly reading the notification. you texted him.
was something wrong? are you sick? do you no longer need tutoring?
he quickly unlocked his phone and read the message, the pillow now bunched up underneath his nose as he slowly inhaled and exhaled your heavy scent.
‘hey, might be running a little late today :/. there’s a lot of traffic.’
traffic? where are you coming from?
‘k.’
he kept his reply short and nonchalant even though his curiosity was close to killing him. he knew the semester was close to ending, meaning he wasn’t going to see you afterward. it’s a big campus, so many buildings and so many students. he rarely sees you.
though, he catches a glimpse of you in the library, walking and talking with your friends. in the lunch hall, always getting the same drink from the vending machines and leaving in a hurry as you typed away at your phone.
you told him you had no boyfriend, but maybe you were lying to him. maybe it’s because he wasn’t a close friend of yours. that’s right, he’s just a tutor — not a friend or a love interest in your eyes.
he sat there longer than he anticipated, he didn’t realize how long he had been sitting until there was a knock on the door. he stood up, tossing the pillow in his lap aside onto his bed and rushing to the door. almost tripping over the clothes and mess that sat on his floor.
shit, he forgot to clean. he kicked the mess aside as he made his way to the door. kicking it under his bed mostly. he almost tripped on one of his shoes, letting out a small cuss before stumbling more towards the door.
the chaos behind the door caused you to furrow your brows.
“Leon? you good?”
“yeah! hold on!” he shouted out. you nodded slowly, itching at your ankle with the tip of your shoe.
Leon looked down at his attire, week-old sweats and a white sweatshirt with oil stains on it.
he turned away from the door quickly and silently ran back into his room, he needed clean clothes and he hadn’t done laundry all week. he didn’t have time, all because he was too busy thinking about you.
he quickly threw his sweatshirt off, taking the glasses off his head in the same swift movement. now he was just a mess, feeling around his bed for his glasses like Velma from Scooby Doo. all while his sweats were halfway on his legs.
“shit, shit,” he muttered to himself and he almost sighed with relief as he finally found his glasses and a clean, well decently clean, sweatshirt.
he rushed over to the door, sweat sticking to his hairline and very much out of breath. when he swung it open he was met by you looking down at your phone, texting someone once again. you looked up at him with a smile.
“what were you doing in there, huh? hiding a girl from me?” you taunted with a smile. he took notice of your outfit once you stuffed your phone away, a small wine-red top paired with some baggy jeans. you had a nice pendant necklace on, hanging right between the swell of your breasts, and cute little bracelets all up your wrists.
your makeup was done nicely, same with your hair. you were very very pretty today. you always were. but who did you look pretty for today?
“don’t be an idiot,” he scoffed, stepping sideways and letting you inside. you chuckled to yourself, finishing up your text to your friend before your phone was miraculously snatched from you.
“no phones tonight.” he snapped at you, taking a sneaky peek at your text convo. it wasn't a guy, it was a friend who was a girl. you two were speaking about a house party and tutoring. he lifted an eyebrow and looked down at you, he was completely ignoring your small grumbles of complaints.
“you were at a house party before this?”
“nosy much!” you snapped as he shut your phone off and stuffed it away into his pocket.
“answer the question,” he sighed like a disappointed parent.
“yes, i was and i ditched it to be here. with you.” you finalized.
he wasn’t gonna lie, the last part of your sentence sends electricity through his veins. you ditched fun to be here. not for tutoring. not for your grade. but to be here with him. he had no words, he was just frozen in place not sure of what to say or do.
“um, no phones today no distractions. midterm is coming up and i don’t want you to fail,” he said, clearing his throat. he shut the door softly and locked it. he turned to face you, taking off your shoes with a pout.
“aw, you care about my score?”
he rolled his eyes, shoving past you with another scoff. “yeah because your score reflects my tutoring.”
"and here i thought you hated tutoring,"
"i do, hurry up and get inside."
you smiled up at him, walking further into his room and instantly looking for your pillow. it wasn’t in its usual spot but you found it on top of his bed. his very tall bed. you jumped up, half of your body on the bed and your legs dangling off the floor.
you outstretched your arm for your his pillow. it was just at your fingertips but still out of reach. why did his bed have to be so big?
Leon watched you struggle for a bit, amused at how hard you were working just for a pillow. he also took this chance to admire how good you looked, almost perfect. bent over the edge of his bed, shirt riding up to reveal more of your back.
he couldn’t help but imagine you in this position but in different circumstances. his hands on your waist, bodies sticky and sweaty, hips rocking against one another.
he was quickly shaken out of his trance when you hit him in the face with the pillow.
“let’s get this over with, my friends are expecting me back in two hours.”
he cleared his throat and nodded with a small, “yeah.” his voice cracking in between.
it was hard to focus, he couldn’t stop looking your way. he couldn’t dismiss the burn that flew through him every time your knees touched his. he couldn’t form a sentence when your eyes would lock with his as you patiently waited for him to teach you something else.
almost like a dog waiting for a fucking treat.
the mascara on your lashes made your lashes pop more, shiny gloss on your lips, and the blush on your cheeks was nice and bright — but not too obnoxious. what was obnoxious though was your top, so dangerously low and that pendant hitting the fat of your breasts with every movement.
you were speaking to him but his eyes were focused on your pendant necklace. you took notice of it, stopping midsentence and looking down towards your necklace that he was so focused on.
“who’s the one distracted now?” you chuckled, taking out the pendant from your shirt and showing it to him.
“where’d you get it from? a boyfriend?” he asked out of nowhere. even his own words caught him off guard. he didn’t mean to ask that last part but it has been on his mind forever.
“Leon, how many times do i have to tell you?” you sighed out, leaning back into your chair and crossing your legs. “i don’t have a boyfriend.”
“then who is currently blowing up your phone?” he asked, motioning down to your phone constantly buzzing in his pocket.
“my friends,” you said with a shrug.
“i don’t believe it.”
“well, you should.”
“what could they possibly want to talk about?”
“you,” you said, looking from your phone lighting up in his pocket then back up at him.
you watched his eyebrow raise in confusion and he tilted his head to the side once again in disbelief. but you nodded slowly leaning towards him.
“they think you’re hot,”
“oh really?”
“yes, really.”
he scooted closer to you, both of his meaty thighs now trapping yours. his pupils dilated as he looked into your own. instantly, your palms began to sweat. you crossed your arms over your chest, subconsciously trying to shoo away the goosebumps rising onto your skin.
“what do you think then?” he asked, his voice low and his eyes flickering down to your lips and staring there.
“of?” you answered with another question.
“you think i’m hot?” he was inching closer closer, surely this was another way to tease and taunt you. even so, your heart was beating out of your chest and you were shrinking away from him.
“mmm not really, you’re kinda ugly.” you lied. that was the biggest lie you’ve ever said out loud. you haven’t even admitted your little crush to your friends. you were denying it to your core but right now with him so close like this, his breath fanning against yours and his hands placed on either side of your chair — you were ready to give up.
“liar.”
“not a li-“
before you could say anything else, his lips were on yours. soft plump and warm. wet from the amount of times he’s licked over them with a hint of mint from his gum. you kissed him back, leaning forward to press your lips against his even more.
your entire body lit up, you could feel your knees grow weak and the butterflies in your stomach felt more like a wildfire. with every smack of your lips, there was another spark and more of that fire spread.
his hands found your waist, tugging you up off your chair and towards him. you accepted his instruction quickly and obediently. he pulled you into his lap, hands moving from your waist and towards your hips.
his thumbs rubbed at your skin, calloused fingertips colliding with your soft skin. hot and gentle. you moaned onto his lips, tilting your head to the side and bringing your hands from his shoulders and towards the nape of his neck.
shivers ran through him at your touch, the cold sweat on your fingertips and your manicured nails scratching at his scalp.
he ran his hot tongue along your bottom lip and you welcomed him. tongues finding each other in a heated and passionate battle. you moaned at the minty taste on his tongue practically melting into him.
his hands found the small of your back, pressing you closer to him until you could practically feel his heart beating against yours.
he reached down into his pocket, bothered by your buzzing phone. he threw it to the side and onto his desk, he couldn't care less where it landed, he was more focused on you. your gloss stuck to his lips, it tasted fruity like cherries and he could taste the smallest twinge of rum on your tongue.
he pulled away, one hand grabbing the back of your neck to keep you in your place, “drinking and driving, huh?”
you rolled your eyes, rolling your hips down into his, “it was just one shot.”
you kissed him again, feverishly. you were hungry and desperate, you never wanted someone so bad. even if he made you feel like shit, pretty privilege at its finest. you didn’t care if he tugged and shoved you around like a damn rag doll, it was hot.
you didn’t care if he insulted you, part of you really fucking liked it.
he kept his lips on yours as he let his hand run down underneath the curve of your ass and the other guided your thigh around his waist. he stood up taking you with him, your legs wrapped around his waist and your arms wrapped around his neck.
you held him close, both of you kissing at a slow and deep pace. in all truth, you didn’t think Leon was interested in you in the slightest but judging from the way his hands traveled all over your body you were very very wrong.
his hands reached up beneath your top, feeling for your bra clasp but he was surprised to find none. you smirked against his lips.
“no bra, fuck that’s hot.” he sighed against your lips, copying your smirk.
he threw you down against his bed, watching your hair splay out around your head like a halo. your lip gloss was ruined, smeared all over your mouth and your lips were now plump and glossy with his spit.
you looked up at him, the fire behind your eyes and adrenaline running through every vein in your body. you propped yourself up onto your elbows, slowly scooching away from him as he crawled towards you.
his hands on either side of your frame, icy blue eyes staring right into yours. his lips were now swollen and pink, some of your lipgloss smeared all over his mouth.
“where you going?” he taunted, a certain tone in his voice. his hands reached for the hem of his sweatshirt, quickly pulling it over his head and throwing it to the side along with the rest of his clothes. you scanned your eyes up and down his built figure, who knew he was so muscular.
underneath all those sweatshirts and loose tees was a greek god. chiseled muscle and wide shoulders, his arms were thick and looked as if they could kill. no wonder he could throw you around like you weighed nothing. he was built like a fucking tank.
your eyes trailed down to the happy trail, you witnessed now and then. sharp v-line, light brown hair with a single vein running down.
his hand wrapped around your ankle, tugging you down the bed until his face hovered over yours. “my eyes are here,” he told you before placing his lips on yours. your hands ran up his arms and up to his shoulders, you sunk your nails into his skin creating little pink crescents.
one of his hands kept him up while the other worked with the button of his jeans. the minute he got the metal button off, he was tugging them down your thighs and you helped by lifting your hips for him.
he kissed the corner of your mouth, then your cheek, and then your jaw. his kisses were wet and slow, his fingers playing with the hem of your panties.
“god, you’re beautiful,” he whispered in your ear, kissing your lobe. your body shook with excitement every time he touched you, your body immediately responding to any of his calls. you were under his control and his command.
“i need you,” you whispered to him.
“shh shh, how about this?" he shushed, removing his glasses and then throwing them onto his desk.
he smirked at his own idea, loving the sound of what plan just popped up into his head.
" if you get these answers correct you’ll get what you want, ‘kay?”
you threw your head back against his pillow, whining his name. he swatted your ass as a warning as he traveled down your neck with opened-mouthed kisses, “i’ll stop.”
“no! okay, okay.” you exclaimed. he smiled against your collarbone, sinking his teeth into your skin as his hand traveled up the sheets to play with the hem of your top.
“give me five different ways to collect data,” his hand traveled underneath your shirt, his thumb finding your perky nipple and swiping over the bud slowly. you shivered at his warm touch, your brain melting and your mouth opening into a silent moaning.
“answer me, baby.”
“um surveys, experiments,” you began, trying to focus on his question rather than his touch. he pinched your nipple, rolling it between his fingers as his knee slotted between your legs and pressed against the gusset of your soaked panties.
he applied just the right amount of pressure and friction to your clothed cunt, earning him a small moan.
“an observational study,”
“good good,” he praised, lifting up your top and bunching it above your breasts. he watched them spill out and bounce, “so pretty, baby. give me two more.” he placed a soft kiss over your hard nipple and watched your body squirm for him.
“focus groups and- fuck and sampling,” you whined, arching your back towards him.
he grinned down at you, one hand cupping your left tit while the other stroked your cheek. “good job.”
he placed another hot kiss over your nipple, dragging his teeth ever so slowly over your hot skin.
this was killing him more than it was killing you. but he just loved teasing you, the excitement in your body, the hunger in your eyes, and the desperation in your voice. he loved having control over you.
“what’s the formula for a z-score?”
“Leon!”
he swatted your thigh as a warning, “say it.”
you pursed your lip, watching him place small kisses around your areola, purposefully avoiding your sensitive nipples.
“x minus x bar-“
“do it correctly,”
“sample size minus the mean, divided by the standard deviation!” you whined out.
he rewarded you by taking your nipple into his mouth, harshly sucking and dragging a long whine out of you.
you’ve never been so sensitive before but he was bringing everything out of you. your hips began to grind down against his knee, the smallest amount of pressure against your clit was all you needed. you were aching for him, clenching around absolutely nothing and dripping into the gusset of your panties.
his hand was splayed over your stomach, his thumb playing with the hem of your lace panties. his lips left your nipple with a pop and he looked up at you whilst biting down on his bottom lip.
“if the mean is more than the median,” he began kissing down the valley of your breasts. “how does the graph skew?”
you couldn’t focus, your brain was mush and you were very lightheaded. you couldn’t breathe and you were aching for him worse and worse every coming second. you tried to go over his question but every kiss he placed on your skin was a distraction.
“come on, baby you got it.” he said, now completely in between your legs. his hands were running up and down your thighs, keeping them at either side of his head. he placed a wet kiss on your inner thigh, sucking and then dragging his teeth over the small hickey.
your hips bucked up and your legs began to shake, “Leon, i don’t know.”
“i know you do, baby. come on,” he hummed against the skin of your thigh. the smell of your pussy was making him dizzy, it was right in front of him and god he needed it so bad. he could see how wet you were, just for him.
he wanted to rip these pretty lacy panties right off of you and devour your pussy whole, but he wanted to wait. he wanted to wait until you were at your limit, he wanted to watch your eyes roll back when you finally got what you both wanted.
“um, it skews right!”
he smiled against your inner thigh, placing a kiss on your abdomen and then moving your panties to the side. his cock jumped at the sight of your cunt right in front of his eyes, dripping wet and quivering just for him.
“answer this next question right and i’ll let you cum, ‘kay?” he said placing a kiss over your swollen clit.
“fuck!” you moaned out, hands reaching for his blonde strands.
“what is the empirical rule? and what does every single one of them mean?” he asked, prodding his tongue at your hole. his breath was hot against your clit, your whole body was shaking to the point you couldn’t take it.
“Leon, i-“ you stammered out with a tear running down your temple and into your hair.
“come on, we just went over this yesterday.”
“i can’t,”
he gathered a glob of spit onto his tongue before spatting it against your pussy, watching it drip from the hood of your clit and over your fluttering hole. “yes, you can.” he egged on.
“it’s mmm,” you pursed your lips and squinted your eyes close, you just needed to think and avert your attention away from him. “68% falls um one standard deviation of the mean,” your statement was more like a question.
he confirmed your answer by flattening his tongue over your slit and languidly licking upwards. he moaned at your taste, practically drunk on your pussy already. he shut his lids and let his eyes roll to the back of his head.
“95% is two and 99.7% is three!” your voice raised a few octaves as the languid strokes of his tongue became faster.
he was done testing you, for now. right now, he’s focused on making you cum all over his face. his arms wrapped around each of your thighs, holding you close to his mouth as he got to work. his thumb went to find your clit, rubbing small slow circles around your swollen nub.
“oh god,” you sighed out. his tongue prodded at your dripping cunt, messily lapping up at your juices mixed with his saliva. you arched your back, your fingers digging into his scalp both pushing him away and pulling him closer.
he applied more pressure to your clit, his tongue plunging in and out of your hole shamelessly. wet and sloppy sounds filled the room along with the sound of your messy moans and chants of his name.
“fuck, so good.” he moaned to himself, completely focused on your pleasure even if his hips were grinding into his sheets. he could cum just like this, to the sounds of your moans and the taste of your cunt.
he couldn’t wait to fuck you, to feel the warmth of your walls suck him in, and the sound of your moans directly in his ear. but he needed to be patient, he needed to reward you for doing so good in class.
he picked up his pace, taking turns fucking his tongue into you feverishly and sucking on your clit. your legs shook around him, thighs clamping around him and keeping him locked in place.
“yes, Leon! i’m close,” you moaned out, drool gathering at the corner of your lips and more tears spilling from your eyes. he kept his pace, not moving faster or slower but he just applied the smallest pressure against your clit that sent you over the edge.
you cried out, arching your back and curling his sheets into your fist. with your release, stars danced behind your vision and every muscle in your body contracted and then relaxed. he eased you down from your high, sucking at your clit lightly and drawing circles over the bone of your hip.
he looked up at you, lips swollen and slick with your release. he placed a kiss on your abdomen with a grin plastered across his cheeks.
his blonde hair stuck to his forehead sweaty and hair disheveled all because of you.
“you did so good,”
your whole body was worn out, your eyes shut ready to pass out but he wasn’t done. he tugged your panties down your legs, keeping them scrunched in his fist.
“i’m not done testing you baby,” he said placing a kiss on your cheek.
“Leon, please,”
he ignored your pleading working himself out of his sweats. you caught a peep of a dark grey splotch in his sweats, either from when he had his knee placed against your heat or his dripping tip.
“get this question right and i’ll fuck you, got it?”
you nodded excitedly, biting down on your bottom lip. you watched his cock spring out and god was he pretty. tip swollen and red, veins running up his girth, thick and long. god, of course, he was big.
“words, baby. i need words.”
“yes, yes, okay!” you snapped at him, very obviously sexually frustrated. he didn’t like your tone so he slapped your clit with the tip of his cock, sending a shock wave through you.
“watch your tone, i don’t have to fuck you, i don’t have to give you a second orgasm,” he grabbed your chin harshly and tugged your head up to face him, “understand?”
“yes,” you croaked out.
he placed a kiss on your lips, letting you get a taste of your juices still on his tongue.
he ran the tip of his cock through your folds, his shoulders tensing up and his hand twisting in his own sheets. it was taking everything in him to be patient.
“how do you find the three quartiles?” he asked, pressing his tip against your fluttering cunt. you opened your mouth to answer but nothing came out but a weak moan. he watched you closely, not breaking any eye contact.
his pupils were blown out, only leaving a halo of his blue irises.
“please,” you croaked out.
“come on baby, you got this.”
you gulped down a lump, getting rid of the dryness in your throat. “the first quartile is the 25th percentile,” you answered weakly.
he pressed his tip into your dripping cunt, hissing at how your pussy was practically ready to suck him in. your breath hitched at the stretch and a tear ran down your temple, he kissed it away, leaning his forehead against yours.
“keep going baby, you got this.”
“the second is the- the median. 50th percentile, the third quartile minus the first,” you rambled, looking up into his eyes as he nodded his head.
“good, good,” he moaned out, giving you just a few more inches of his cock.
“the third one is 75th percentile,”
with your final and last answer, he thrust his cock all the way in, until his tip was kissing your cervix. you sucked in a shaky breath, your thighs shaking as you adjusted to his size. he kept his tip pressed against your cervix, stroking your thigh with his large hand.
“s- so big, fuck,” you whined out, walls fluttering around his girth.
“shh shh, take it. take it.” he whispered close to your lips.
“lower fence versus upper fence, quickly.” he was struggling to stay still, he was torturing both you and himself. you choked back a sob. you could feel his cock pulsing inside of you and god you couldn’t even think.
“lo- lower fence is the first quartile, mmm,” you moaned out.
“come on,”
“first quartile minus one point five times the IQR,”
he sighed out against his lips, grinding his hips into yours earning him a whiny moan from your quivering lips. “one more baby,”
“upper fence is, shit, it’s the third quartile plus one point five times the IQR.”
he was done.
he pulled out and then thrusted straight back in, your whole body convulsed. every tense muscle in your body relaxing the moment he thrusted his cock back into you. he cupped your cheek, bringing your lips to his. he kissed you hungrily, invading your mouth with his tongue, moaning at the taste of you.
his hips continued to snap into yours, bullying his cock into you with no remorse. each thrust of his cock stroked at your g-spot and your body would jolt from the force.
“been waiting to do this forever,” he spoke into your mouth. “fuck, you’re so beautiful,”
you moaned out his name, wrapping your arms around his neck and bringing him closer to you. his hands reached back towards your top, tugging it over his head and throwing it off the side.
he was quick to cup your breast, slotting your nipple between your two fingers and then slamming his lips against yours. you scratched down his back helplessly, the fresh polish on your nails chipping and blood seeping through the cuts you were giving him.
you couldn’t focus on anything else but him, not only did you really like him but he was also fucking you so good. his pace was perfect, his touch was intoxicating and his lips were hot.
there was a ring of white forming around the base of his cock, lewd noises spilled from both of your lips as you both found yourselves inching closer and closer to your highs.
your kiss grew sloppy and his pace quickened, “this pussy ’s so good, fuck,” he groaned out, moving the hand from your breast towards your clit.
your whole body shook once his two fingers began to draw figure eights around your clit. the slow pace of his fingers contrasting with the fast pace of his thrusts.
“god, look at you,” he breathed out, “all fucked out on your tutor's cock, huh?”
you couldn’t reply, only croaking out a moan of his name.
“fucking whore, came here for math help now look at you,”
his words only added to the tension in your abdomen, the burn in your stomach getting hotter and hotter.
“i’m gonna cum,”
“go ‘head baby, cum all over my cock,” he said, placing a kiss on the corner of your lips.
you whined out, chasing his lips for another kiss but he denied you with a shake of his head.
“i wanna hear you,”
you looked into his eyes, seeing a reflection of yourself in his glossy eyes. mascara smudges, lipgloss gone, hair a mess. all because of him.
“fuck!” you moaned out, wrapping your legs around his waist and throwing your head back. he was quick to guide your head to face him, he kept his eyes locked on yours watching your pupils dilate as you came undone.
your walls fluttered around his cock, clenching down as your orgasm hit you like a heavy wave. he pulled out quickly, finishing himself off with heavy and breathy moans.
you watched as he came. thick, white ropes of cum decorating your stomach and abdomen. his abs tensed up with each spurt of cum and his hips still bucked up.
he let out a final breath into the crook of your neck. both of your bodies shook against each other, hot, sticky with sweat and cum.
he leaned up out of the crook of your neck looking into your eyes and you watched as they gleamed, such a rare light in his eyes but you were glad you were able to see it.
he pressed his lips to yours, this time it was slow and deep. there wasn’t any hunger or lust, just pure passion.
“i’m sure you won’t fail that test,”
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(divider creds to @saradika ,, photos off of pinterest & photo of leon from @/laughingwallaby on twitter)
notes: if you wanna be on my tag list pls message me hehe! or fill out the form below (just to make it easier on me :D)
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frmisnow · 3 months
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✧˖ ?! — JUNGKOOK AS BF MATERIAL. - (FLUFFY/ LIGHT SUGGESTIVE)
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notes. just jungkook being loveable (as always) ˚˖𓍢ִ໋🍃 / headcanons.
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such a sweetheart <3<3
forever convinced this is his first life
and he loves you just like you're his first ever love
always somewhere around you like he can't even spend an hour without u!!
he can get quite clingy sometimes
holding your hand oh so tightly in public llike he isn't a grown 26 year buff man himself
or burying his head in the grope of your neck when he's sleepy (dazing off in a matter of seconds+ pouting like aegyo rent is due when you even just slightly move)
overall a cute lil free spirit
probably will drag you along to some underground tatteo shop in the middle of the night and get matching tatteos spontaneously
apropos nights: late night walks (esp. with bam) are programmed for the both of you!!!
convinced somewhere in him there's a flirt god that comes out just when it's late (seen in his midnight lives)
"i really don't wanna wash up, who wants to help me wash up?" HELLOOOOO?!??! don't even want to imagine the stuff he says in a relationship...
taking pics of you 24/7
always lurking in the shadows, a camera in hand, ready to capture moments of you which he'll giggle and kick his feet about maniacally at 3am
oh and i'm talking about him taking pictures of you in ANY single angle possible
and he'll gosh about each and every one of them
he'll 100% have like three squished in his phone case
omg he gon drag you to every gym visit ever like wow
and he prob wants you to box with him for the funsies
won't let you win tho
no matter how much love he has for you the competitive ass that he is just comes out the second you step into the gym
like you can do 100 push ups? he can do 100 more
and he's moaning extra hard on purpose with every push up
like what if he riles you up to the point where you lose?? strategies and priorities huh 🤷‍♀️
such a sweaty menace
SLEEPY HEAD!!!!
will probs make you lose your job the way he's keeping you in bed in the morning
and if the cuddly methode won't work then he proceeds violently kissing all over your face
and he'll be sooooo whiny when you dare to speak abt the outside world or your snozzy boss
you have to understand: the second he turns on the galaxy lights all over his house the outside world doesn't exist anymore ❌
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strawb3rrystar · 3 months
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Hazbin Hotel characters longing for you.
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Pairing: Charlie Morningstar, Vaggie, Angel Dust, Husk, Sir Pentious, Alastor, Lucifer Morningstar, Adam, Vox, Valentino, Velvette x GN! Reader
Warnings: Implied breakup, Stalking, Just all around angst
Word count: 600
✰Masterlist
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Charlie will hangout with her friends to get your mind off you. This strategy works for a little while, until she starts to notice small bits of your personality in them. All the little things pile up and it brings down her mood, causing her stay away from her friends as to not get reminded.
"Sorry guys, can't hangout today, not feeling the greatest."
Vaggie will bottle up all her emotions and avoid everyone. But, being all alone causes her to start thinking about you more. All the happy memories you created together. Laughs and smiles shared. Vulnerable venting sessions that ended in cuddles. She won't be able to scrape you from her mind and end up crying angry tears.
"Why... after everything we've been through! Why.. why did you leave me..?"
Angel Dust will probably be too distracted with work to think about you. But of course he misses you and wishes to have you back. If he ever does get time to just sit and think about you, his insecurities will get the best of him and he'll think your better off without him.
"Maybe.. they're better off. More happier without me.."
Husk will drown himself in alcohol like he always does. Silently doing his job. It wasn't much of a change to most of the others. Sometimes, out of the corner of his eye, he'll see your figure. He shivers every time he realizes you're not actually there.
"Must be the alcohol makin' me see shit..."
Sir Pentious will lay awake at night thinking about you. It doesn't help that his eggs will keep bringing stuff up about you. He doesn't want to think about you, but he just can't get you out of his head. He wishes to see you one last time before he lets you go.
"I haven't asked for much. Please, just let me see them again."
Alastor will convince himself that he was perfectly able to go on with his afterlife before he met you, so he can definitely do it after you left. Although, that's a lie, because he misses your presence everyday. Even if he doesn't want to admit it, he goes over your daily schedule before you left in his head and goes to the places you used to frequent.
"I am perfectly capable all on my own."
Lucifer will dream about you every night after you leave. He'll dream about all the good times you had together. Your smile and your laugh. His dreams are so realistic that when he wakes up it takes him a minute to remember you left.
"Right.. they left.. but, my dream was so.. real.."
Adam will kinda stalk you, justifying it as protection. Whenever he sees you hanging out with another angel, though, envy will fill his veins. Even if he knows it's one of your friends, he'll still get jealous.
"You were supposed to hangout with me, not this fucking nobody."
Vox will also very much stalk you with his cameras. Nervously searching his screens whenever you leave your house. He just wants to know where you are, and that you're safe.
"My sweet would never have to worry about their safety again."
Valentino will check your past messages 50 times a day. He's just itching to text you, but if he does you might block him, and then he'll lose your conversations forever. He might throw his phone in frustration.
"God fucking damn it!"
Velvette will regularly check your social media for any updates from you. If you do post something new, expect her to be one of the first to like it.
"@Velvvette liked your post."
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Star's notes -> I've binged Hazbin Hotel like 3 times now OMG
(Requests are open!)
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Taglist -> Join the taglist
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