#when i realized only one of these is in english... am i... better than everyone?

[celine-song]

✨ 9 favorite films that i watched (for the first time) in 2023 ✨

tagged by @animusrox thank you so much!

this year i really focused on catching up with my watchlist rather than watching new stuff which is very different from my usual MO. i debated including 2023 releases in this as well since i watched so few but i decided to rather shout out more of the older movies instead.

tagging @usershelby @madeline-kahn @talesfromthecrypts @pedro-pascal @rogerdeakinsdp @trainstationgoodbye @billy-crudup @bladesrunner @gresit

[kaciebello]

Us before you and me

Masterlist Luke Castellan x Hades! reader (implied, fem) Summary: Luke and the readers’ relationship before they became a couple. Luke is an absolute loser when it comes to crushes. Warning: no use of y/n, luke is a total looser author note: English is not my first language so I am sorry for any mistakes beforehand. Proofread by me and me only (Ｔ▽Ｔ) word count: 1,3k

Luke Castellan was 14 when he came to the camp, and he was sad. Not only did he just lose a friend that turned into a tree, but he had to pretend to like his dad.

Now that he was 15, his mind was somewhere else, his friends to be exact. He tried to make friends with everyone. But these two in the Hermes cabin just caught his eye. They argued all the time, it was almost unbearable, and yet they refused to sleep anywhere but next to each other. It has been a few months since they got here, and somehow their banter has extended to him.

So now that he and Chris were watching the Aphrodite girlies, Chris had dragged him out. He was talking about something Luke did not care about. He only started to pay attention when he slapped him. Luke gave him a confused look.

“You're not even looking man,” Cris says.

“Because it's creepy!” Luke argues back. It was creepy, they disguised themself as resting campers next to the Aphrodite cabin. To him, and everyone else, it looked like Cris just discovered what a woman is. Granted, they just turned 15, so he is certain that was the case. Luke couldn't bring himself to care. When he thought about girls only one face came to his mind, and he was not about to confess that to his friend.

“Don't you see them! They look good!” Chri says back. 

“I like someone already.” Chris looks at him with a deadpaned look. Absolute silence. Maybe Luke really should not have said anything. According to Chris, Luke could have anyone in the camp. Even crowing him as the heartthrob of the camp.  Luke tried to move on as fast as he could from this conversation, however, Chris's attention was sparked, and would not let go of the conversation.

They kept going back and forth and none of them noticed a familiar girl come their way.

“ Stop spying on the aphrodite cabin like they are some prey!” She says, effectively tearing them out of their argument.

“ Prey?? What are we? Animas?” Luke was quick to defend himself. He didn't even want to be here.

“ Not you, you raging virgin,”  Chris says and gives him a side-eye. The girl just rolls her eyes. 

“I'm not a virgin!” Luke's voice cracked, not something he wanted to happen while defending his honor. His eyes snap to the girl, hoping that she would believe him. But she looked like she wouldn't even believe he had hair on his head. Luke signs defeat. There is no winning in this. He just has to come to terms with the fact that his crush thinks he's a total loser.

–

When Luke turned 16 he realized he wanted to look ripped. And he wanted to get girls, well a specific one but he will not say that aloud. He will tell you he just wants to be a better hero with glory and all that. However Luke was 16, and he had no better idea than to practice in front of his crush.

He was nervous. Sweating. He couldn't tell if it was from the sword fighting or her. She was just sitting down and looking at him. His heart was beating way too fast for his liking. So he was very glad when his opponent called it quits and he could rest.

He went and sat down next to the girl. She smiled and handed him a towel and cold water. He rolled his sleeves up his shoulders to feel some of the cold air. The girl had to do a double-take at him. He could see her in the corner of his eye looking at him. He flexed his arms just a little.

“ Exposing your biceps like that? What a slut.” She says. His eyes widen for a second before he composes himself. He turns to her with a smirk on his face.

“ You like that don't you.”  That stopped her in the tracks. He could practically see the clogs turn in her head.

“Maybe I do.” She says, her eyes fixated on his arms. Luke went red and looked away. He could feel her arm on him as she studied his mussels. He let her arm wander, they were seemingly in their world.  Her arms slip to his chest. He looked down and then back to her.

“ I know my pecs are big but can you stop objectifying me?” The girl stopped in her tracks and looked him dead in the eyes.

“Nah.” With that, she just continued to feel him up. He just let her.

—

Luke was 17 when one of his closest friends was claimed by Hades and had to move out of the cabin into a small room above the medical storage unit. He helped her move the stuff, not that she had much but still. When he walked into the room he saw her standing with Chris, who upon seeing him gave him a smirk. Luke sat the bag down and turned around to see Crish walking out giving him a wink.

Luke turned to the girl with a confused look. She just shrugged and thanked him for bringing the bag. He could feel the tension in the air. Luke looked around the room. It wasn't big, but it was something, and first and foremost it was private. Not something he could say about his bed. He looked at the girl again. She was not sporting a black camp shirt instead of an orange one. Fitting for a Hades kid. 

When his eyes got to her face his heart jumped to her throat for a bit. She was looking at him with a sheepish smile. 

“So Chris said-” Right then and there he knew. He knew his friend had said something he shouldn't.

“Don't believe Chris !” He yelped and grabbed her hand. Silently he begged her to forget whatever the boy told her. She raised her eyebrows at him.

“ So you don't get a major ‘love boner’ every time you see me?” A whine leaves Luke's lips.

“Why did he have to put it like that.” He says his voice high-pitched. The girl just let out a laugh.

—

Luke was 18 when he confessed. He was 18 when she confessed back. And he was 18 when he kissed his crush of 4 years.  He was 18 now lying in the Hermes cabin looking at the ceiling dreamingly. He could only remember what her hands and lips felt on him. The other 3 boys were taking none of that.

“He's a mess. Like mess mess.” Says Connor looking at his counsellor with a weird look, before turning to his brother who wore a similar expression.

“ Mess in distress but still the best dressed?” Answered Travis. He has been cursed by one of the Apollo kids to say things that rhyme but not really.  It's been going on for a week now with no sign of going away.

“He's definitely not best dressed, I can tell you that.” Says Chris sitting at the foot of Luke's bed cleaning his nails.

Lukes wasn't paying them attention. He finally achieved what he wanted since 15.  He could handle the teasing if it meant he could sneak into her room after calling lights out. One of the twins poked him in the ribs but he just swatted them away.

He could hear them say he was gone, but the only thing he could think about was his girlfriend. 

It was a year later when he was 19 and risked everything.

[ohbabydollie]

currently imagining a jaded, deadpan lit teacher!schlatt. super intelligent, incredible teacher that all his students adore and love to learn from, but they all swear to god they’ve never seen him smile once

then comes along absolute ray of sunshine teacher!y/n, probably teaching some kind of fine art, and it is just like a moth to a flame. he cannot stay away from you!

you meet for the first time in the teacher’s lounge and he’s a little taken aback, he doesn’t know what it is about you but something makes his little brain flip a switch and it’s all sunshine and rainbows. not much longer after that, you start becoming friends, sharing cool little things about your interests or the subjects you teach.

he does a pretty good job of hiding these feelings from the kids, just because he wants to keep that side of him private from his students, but one day he slips up. you sneak in during a class of his during your free period to return a book he recommended to you. when you walked out, he had no idea that he was smiling but apparently the students noticed.

“mr. schlatt, were you just smiling?”

“finish your essay.”

also am i allowed to be 🥥 anon

ofc, welcome 🥥 anon

before you came along schlatt was the most obviously exhausted and stressed teacher, but his students loved him.

from stapling mcdonald’s job applications on failed tests to talking about his cats. his students very clearly loved him and adored him, but he just seemed so sad in a way, especially when one of them got him to talk about his dating life.

single, with multiple failed dates under his belt

then you transferred to the school after the last art teacher had quit.

he had heard about you from his students, the new young single art teacher making sure to emphasize on the single part, but he always told them to focus on getting their assignment done over focusing on the teachers dating lives.

he really didn’t care for you, probably would be done in a few weeks if you couldn’t handle how rowdy and rough some of these kids could be. he gave you a month at best.

then you came into the teacher’s lounge getting snack after snack out of the vending machine as he watched in silence. not out of judgement, but he was just mesmerized completely

the concentration on your face as you punched in number after number watching the snacks fall before grabbing a cardboard box to place it all in was all so adorable to him, he didn’t even realize he had been staring until you looked over at him with a big smile.

“hi, i don’t believe we’ve met!” you chirp, “i’m y/n the new art teacher” you say extending out a hand for him to shake. he politely takes it, giving you a semi-awkward smile

“i’m jay, i teach english in b103” he says feeling himself turn red

“oh wow! i’m only down the hall from you, my room is c102” you say parting from the hand shake and picking up your box “well i’ll see you around” you say pushing the door open

and just like that you were gone as soon as you came

and schlatt had a new goal in mind, you

the next period he had came back better than ever. his normally deadpan and tired voice had more excitement and life to it and his students noticed for sure, waiting until the lesson was over to pry into him, but they all got the same response.

“jus added a shot of expresó into my coffee this mornin” he says starting to grade the assignments from his last class.

they had assumed that was it, nothing more to it until the next week where he seemed to be radiating with joy, when they pried into him again all he said was, “jus had some coffee from my favorite spot this mornin, nothin else”

he hadn’t mentioned it was with you.

over the next few months they noticed more and more change, fixing his hair more often, wearing his nicer clothes and whatever he could to look better.

as a student asked “so who’s the lucky lady?”

you had walked in holding a book, causing the room to fall silent. you practically floated to his desk as everyone watched you.

“hey, thanks for letting me borrow your copy, it was really good” you say handing him the book

“oh..it’s no problem, anytime” he says softly as you smile

“ ‘kay, well i’ll see you later, oh and your glasses are a little smudged” you say heading to leave as he watches in awe.

once you’re out, he’s taking off his glasses, smiling to himself with a small chuckle as he cleans them off, basking in the moment, completely forgetting his students were there until someone speaks up.

“mr. schlatt, are you smiling?” he asks teasingly before schlatt immediately drops the smile and goes deadpan again

“finish your assignment before i fail you��

[sansaorgana]

— A BETTER PERSON

PAIRING — Erik Lehnsherr x fem!Mutant!Reader

SUMMARY — Erik struggles with accepting the fact that his son is not a mutant.

AUTHOR’S NOTE — Hi, it's me again 😂 This fic can be read as a part two of THIS FIC but doesn't have to be at all. It contains some fighting between Erik and Reader but I promise it all ends well! 💗 Reader’s mutation is NOT specified (as much as it was possible).

WORD COUNT — 3,930

ENGLISH IS MY SECOND LANGUAGE.

A BETTER PERSON

“No,” Erik stood up and clenched his fists to stop himself from using his mutation powers against Charles. “I do not agree,” he stated more calmly now.

“Anybody else?” Charles looked past him at the other teachers sitting inside his office.

No one else said anything, though.

“I’m sorry, Erik, you’ve lost,” Charles smirked at him.

“Fine then,” your husband clenched his jaw. “If you want to let the non-mutant children in this school, I’m leaving. I won’t teach humans.”

“Don’t be too dramatic, Erik,” you stood up as well and put your hand on his shoulder. “We’re building something special here and you know it…”

“Yes, we are,” he snapped at you and pushed your hand away, “but he wants to ruin it,” he pointed at Charles. “This place is a safe space for the mutants. Humans have always been a threat.”

“Well, obviously, the ones who hate mutants won’t be welcome here,” Charles rolled his eyes. “Your wife is right, Erik. You’re overreacting.”

“Oh, really?” Erik tilted his head. “Because I’m sure you’re going to invite everyone here soon. People who are against us so they can know us better and realize we are the same. People who admire us so they can look at us from a closer angle. I am not an animal in the zoo, Xavier, and I certainly am not a lab rat. Never again.”

“Erik, it’s just only about avoiding segregation,” you sighed. “Do you really have to make a scene? We don’t even know yet if we’re going to get permission from the government… It’s just an idea.”

“I am not going to teach non-mutants. End of discussion. They’re not welcome here,” he drawled out and that was when you heard a noise behind the door. An echo of the familiar legs running away as quickly as possible down the corridor.

“Alex…”, you whispered and laid your eyes on Erik to give him a dirty look. “I hope you’re proud of yourself,” you snarled at him before running out of Charles’ office.

Your son was fast but he wasn’t extraordinarily fast and he was a child after all, so you caught him pretty fast. In fact, there was nothing extraordinary about him and he was already ten years old, which could only mean one thing that your husband refused to ever address. For Erik, Alex was just a late bloomer but he was the only person in the whole school who was thinking that.

Because the truth was, Xavier’s School already had a non-mutant student. And it was Erik Lehnsherr’s flesh and blood.

“Alex,” you grabbed your son’s shoulder and turned him around. His eyes were full of tears and his hands were shaking. It was breaking your heart to see him like that. “Alex, what were you doing there? It was a meeting for the teachers.”

“I wanted to f-find you,” he sniffled and rubbed his eyes. “Edie did it again…” he sobbed.

Edie was your second child, named after Erik’s mother. She was six years old and her mutant powers had recently started to show. One of her favourite activities was to tease her older brother. She couldn’t understand why he was always so upset instead of teasing her back. She inherited much more from her father than just his mutation.

“What did she do?” You sighed and fixed his ruffled hair.

“Locked me in my room,” he looked down, ashamed of the fact that he had been bullied by a little girl. “I couldn’t open it, she melted the lock.”

You sighed and pressed his head to your chest. Edie’s pranks were starting to get too cruel these days.

“I will talk to her,” you promised him and kissed the top of his head. “Now, about what your father said…” you brought up the topic and Alex burst into tears once again, pressing his face even deeper into the material of your sweater. “He didn’t mean you, love,” you didn’t know what else to say.

“Of course I didn’t,” Erik’s voice made you both turn around. He looked a bit uneasy and he was keeping a distance from you two. “Because you’re a mutant, Alex. You just need more time to figure it out,” your husband added.

“No, I am not!” Alex exclaimed dramatically and ran away again but this time you didn’t chase him. Instead, you approached your husband angrily.

“That was not what he needed to hear,” you drawled out. “What he needs to hear is that you love him nevertheless,” you explained and then you took a step back and furrowed your brow while staring deep into Erik’s bright eyes. He was staring back at you without a word. “Unless you… don’t,” you whispered before turning around and leaving him alone in the middle of the corridor.

You didn’t look for Alex after that. You decided to give him some time to cry alone first and instead of that you focused on giving Edie a lecture. One of many and probably not the last one. You loved her, of course, just like you loved her father. But sometimes you wished she was… less like him. One Erik was enough to handle.

Speaking of him, he was avoiding you for the rest of the day and he seemed to be offended because he didn’t even want to talk to you. When you bumped into him, he didn’t say “sorry” or anything, he just walked on by.

During supper he sat next to you as usual but he kept talking to Raven sitting by his other side. You were playing with your food and watching Edie from the corner of your eye. She seemed to be very giddy and joyful. Too much for a girl who had been scolded by her mother for bullying her brother. She seemed to brag to one of the boys about what she had done earlier. You stopped looking at her and started to search for your son amongst the children by the long table.

“Where is Alex?” You asked out loud after realizing that he wasn’t there.

“Probably still crying in his room,” Edie shrugged her arms and you stood up loudly, making everyone wince at the sound of the squeaking chair.

“(Y/N), let him be,” Erik laid his eyes on you for the first time since morning. “Boys process such things differently.”

“No, they don’t,” you had to fight the urge to slap his face. How could he not even be worried? How could he allow Edie to be so insolent? “Now, if you excuse me, I need to find my son,” you informed everyone and walked out of the dining room to hurry upstairs.

Alex was a son of two teachers so he had the privilege of having his own room next to yours. Not so long ago he had been sharing it with Edie but since she had started to show off her powers they had to be separated. You knocked upon the door and waited for an answer but there was none.

“Alex, baby, open the door, please. It’s me, mummy,” you whispered but there was still no answer. “I’m walking inside, honey,” you pushed the door open.

The room was dark. You put the light on only to find the room empty and your heart skipped a beat at the realization that you had absolutely no idea where your son was.

Desperately, to be absolutely sure, you looked under the bed and inside the closet but he obviously wasn’t there. So you ran back downstairs, feeling like your heart would jump out of your chest any given moment. Your head felt heavy and your ears were ringing.

“He’s not in his room,” you announced after opening the door leading to the dining room with shaky hands. Everyone went silent and looked at you. Seeing your terrified face and trembling arms, they began to worry as well. Erik stood up from the table and approached you slowly.

“He… He’s not… He’s not there, Erik,” you struggled to catch your breath out of growing anxiety as you held onto his sleeve.

“Maybe he’s hiding in the garden,” he tried to calm you down but he began to look worried as well. “I’ll look for him.”

“I will help you,” Hank left the table, too.

“And me,” Raven joined them.

“Can we help as well?” One of the students asked.

“You can stay here and finish your meal,” Charles told him. “Unless any of you has any idea where Alex can be?” he asked but there was a dead silence from all the kids. “Alright then, you stay here. We are going to look for him. I’m sure he’s nearby,” he approached you and took your hand in his. “(Y/N), come with me,” he encouraged you and you nodded before following him outside. You felt like you were inside a bad dream.

“He has never done anything like that… He… He would always tell me everything…” you stuttered out. “He’s a clingy child… With me at least… That’s so unlike him to just… To just make me worry like that.”

“I’m sure Erik will find him,” Charles tried to calm you down and you both went outside where the rest of the adults had been looking for your son.

You could hear their voices calling out Alex’s name but you were too petrified to move and help them. You felt helpless. Ten minutes passed and there was apparently no sign of him still being around the mansion.

“He’s not here,” Hank walked up to you and Charles and shook his head. Erik followed him, paler than ever.

“When was the last time you saw Alex?” Your husband asked you.

“The same time you did,” you snapped at him. “I gave him some time after what you had said to him and it was my mistake. I should have gone after him and left that brat Edie to you.”

“Hey, hey,” Erik took a step back and put his arms in the air like he was giving up, “don’t take it out on me and certainly not on our daughter. Charles,” he looked down at his friend, “you can find Alex, right? You shouldn’t have a problem with that.”

“Well…” Charles sighed and hesitated for a moment, “I’m a telepath but it’s easier to connect with other mutants.”

“Excellent then,” Erik nodded.

“I’m going to try but considering the fact Alex is not a mutant…” Charles began again, less delicately this time.

“He is,” Erik protested, “come on, Xavier, you know that he is. We’ve talked about it, you were supposed to help him to find out what his mutation was. Just because you haven’t found it yet…”

“Wait, what?!” You interrupted him with a scream. It was the first time you had ever heard of it. 

“I tried but… Erik, there is really nothing there…” Charles explained but you didn’t let him finish. You approached your husband and pushed him away.

“Hey!” He exclaimed.

“Stay away!” You yelled. “It’s all your fault, stay away!”

“(Y/N), calm down. Charles needs to focus if you want him to find Alex,” Hank tried to put his arm around you but you pushed him away as well. Your anger and worry made your powers grow stronger and stronger with every minute.

“You’re so full of shit, Erik,” you could feel your whole body melting under the power of your own mutation. Your every nerve and every muscle was filled with anger. You could kill him with a snap of your fingers if you wanted to. “So, your son is a human. In a place like this, though, he is the outsider. He is the one needing protection here. And instead of doing what a father should do, you were pushing him, behind my back, arranging secret sessions with Charles… You… Can’t you see that what you’re doing isn’t far from what has been done to you?” you asked while walking slowly towards him. Those were rare moments to see Erik Lehnsherr genuinely scared of anyone but it was one of them. “He’s not a lab rat or a weapon. He’s a person. And all that boy has ever wanted was for you to love him. You have no idea how many times he’s been asking me about it. Does dad love me? And I have never been brave enough to tell him to ask you instead. Because I was scared of your answer. But now I know it,” you finished with your face only a few inches away from his.

“No, you don’t. You think you do but you don’t,” Erik whispered and swallowed thickly. He wasn’t even trying to defend himself, it was like he had known, deep down, that he deserved it. “You must be insane if you think I don’t love him,” his words were almost inaudible at this point; only for your ears to hear.

“Then act like it,” you drawled out.

“Mrs. Lehnsherr!” One of the children’s voices made you turn around. It was the boy Edie had been talking to earlier. You had noticed a few times that he quite liked to pick on your son as well whenever there was such an opportunity.

“What do you want?” You asked him rudely.

“I’m sorry I haven’t told you earlier…” he started as his voice broke. He looked scared and worried. “I know where Alex went… I saw him… I’m sorry, I should have said…” he started crying and you approached him quickly. “I’m so sorry…” he kept repeating.

“Stop apologizing and tell me where he is,” you grabbed him by his shoulders.

“(Y/N),” Charles raised his hand. He didn’t want you to be too rough with the students but you didn’t care. You wanted your son to be safe and back at home.

“I asked him where he was going… He told me he was running away to New York to get adopted by... normal people. I think he took the bus or something,” the boy sniffled.

“When was it?” You asked.

“Not long before supper.”

“He must be on the station or on that bus then,” you heard Erik’s voice. “I’m going,” he added and ran to the hangar to get one of the cars.

You wanted to stop him. To tell him that you should be there, too. But you were so heartbroken after what that student had told you that you couldn’t say a word. You couldn’t believe that your son wanted to be adopted by a different… normal family.

“Let’s go back inside,” you loosened the grip on the boy’s shoulders. “Thank you for telling me. You’ve done the right thing,” you added with a broken smile.

It was almost two in the morning and everyone was asleep except for you and Charles. You were in the living room, waiting for Erik’s return. Edie was also there, she refused to go to her bedroom before seeing Alex again but she fell asleep with her head on your lap around eleven. You were playing with her hair to keep your hands busy. 

Apparently it had been her. She had noticed the other student’s odd behaviour and it had been her threatening him to tell you everything. She had been crying and shaking in your arms and blaming herself. But you weren’t angry with her anymore. She was only six years old and putting a blame on her would be unfair. It would only make her feel even worse. It had been Erik who should have known better. Not her.

“They’re back,” Charles whispered after hearing a car on the driveway.

“Both of them?” You asked, worriedly.

“Yes,” he closed his eyes for a moment, “I can sense them both.”

You sighed with relief and gently moved Edie’s head away from your lap to put it on the sofa’s cushion. Then you stood up and walked out to see Erik and Alex entering the mansion.

When you saw them, you froze for a moment because Alex was being carried by Erik in his arms.

“He’s asleep,” your husband informed you immediately. “He fell asleep on our way here,” Erik explained. “He’s fine,” he added and you nodded.

“You couldn’t just wait at the next bus stop, right?” Charles’ voice interrupted you from behind. He was looking at Erik with a smirk. He had just been looking through his memories to find out what had exactly happened. “You just had to dramatically stop the bus in the middle of the road?”

“Yes, in fact, I had to,” Erik drawled out at his friend, “because my son was in there.”

“Alex!” Edie ran up to you. Her hair was ruffled and her eyes were squinted – she was barely awake – but she had a big smile on her face. Her calling woke Alex up and he moved in Erik’s arms before yawning and looking down at his sister. “Alex!” She called once again and extended her hands towards him. Erik put the boy on the ground so his sister could give him a hug. “I’m sorry I locked you in your room!” She cried happy tears and squeezed her brother tighter.

“It’s okay…” Alex hugged her back.

“I will never do it again!” Edie squealed.

“Thanks…”

“And you?” You crossed your arms and looked at your son.

“I will never do it again either. I’m sorry, mum…” He avoided your eyes, ashamed and scared. You crouched down and hugged him as well to place a kiss on his forehead.

“I’m glad Alex is safe. I’ll leave you now,” Charles nodded his head and went away quietly.

“Where did you even get the money from? For the ticket?” You asked your son.

“From dad’s wallet…” Alex looked down but you laughed instead of scolding him.

“Guess how much he’s taken,” Erik smiled for the first time in hours and you shook your head. “A hundred.”

“A hundred?!” You let out a laugh and Edie giggled. “Alex, how much do you think a ticket to New York costs?”

“I didn’t know how much it would be! I was worried it wouldn’t be enough!” Alex explained and you burst into happy tears of joy and relief to have him back. You kissed his forehead again.

“What did you do with the change?”

“I bought some comic books at the station,” he pointed at his small backpack. “And a bag of chips in case I get hungry.”

“Priorities,” Erik hummed.

“It’s time to go to bed now,” you announced when the clock struck two. “We will talk about it tomorrow before breakfast,” you stood up and Alex nodded. You took him by his hand to take him to his bedroom. Erik picked little Edie up off the ground to carry her upstairs as well. She was so sleepy she looked like she’d fall asleep standing.

When both children were already in their beds, you went to your own bedroom in silence.

“What did you tell him?” You asked when the door closed behind Erik and you were the only awake people in the whole mansion at that hour.

“Well, at first everyone was scared of me, of course…” He started.

“Yeah, no kidding,” you rolled your eyes.

“I told the bus driver my son had run away from home and that he must be there. The guy pointed his finger at Alex immediately. Not many ten year olds travel on their own. I just took him to the car,” Erik explained and sat down on the bed to run his fingers through his hair. He was exhausted.

“So… you didn’t talk to him? You haven’t told him anything?” You were shocked.

“What was I supposed to…? Listen, I was fuming! He stole my money and ran away and he’s only ten! Imagine what he’s gonna be like in five years! Absolute nightmare! I was worried sick and I was angry, so I decided it would be for the best if I shut my mouth. I have a tendency of making everything worse when I speak,” he lowered his voice in the end and put his face in the palms of his hands.

“I was too harsh to you earlier,” you sat next to him and gently took his hands in yours to move them away from his face, “I’m sorry,” you apologized. “I was worried.”

“No, you were right,” Erik sighed and looked up to meet your gaze. “I was lying to myself and pushing him. It’s… I didn’t expect to have a human son. We are both powerful mutants, it shouldn’t have happened… Now all my beliefs and opinions and… And everything… It is being questioned. And it makes me feel uneasy,” he confessed but not without the visible struggle.

“Oh, Erik…” you sighed and cupped his face to caress his cheeks with your thumbs. “Perhaps boys really do process such things differently,” you chuckled.

“I’ve maimed and killed for the idea of mutants’ supremacy. If I abandon it now… What would that make me? A hypocrite. A traitor to the cause,” he clenched his jaw as a tear rolled down his cheek.

“It would make you a good father, Erik,” you wiped that tear with your thumb, “and that’s all that should matter. Also, people change. It’s a natural process. You’ve changed once already, after being hurt by Schmidt. Because before that you hadn’t been like this either,” you reminded him and a short silence occurred between you two.

“Why do you always have to be right?” he sighed and you laughed softly before leaning in to place a kiss on his forehead.

When you went to Alex’s room in the morning, he was still asleep, which was not surprising after a night like that. You sat on the edge of his bed to caress your son’s hair and Erik opened his backpack to look at the comic books your son had bought.

“They’re about superheroes,” he noticed.

“Aren’t they all?” You asked.

“Mum…?” Alex opened his eyes slowly and covered his mouth to yawn before rubbing his eyes.

“Hey, sleepy head,” you greeted him softly. “How are you?”

“I’m good,” he sat up and extended his hands to give you a hug. You leaned in to put your arms around him and squeeze him tight.

“Your dad has something to tell you,” you said and moved back. Erik cleared his throat and sat next to you as Alex watched carefully while making big eyes.

“I’m sorry,” Erik started with an apology, which was quite unusual for him. “I’m sorry I made an impression that…” he hesitated. “No, it wasn’t making an impression. No more excuses. I’m sorry for pushing you into being a mutant. You are…” he sighed. “You are perfect the way you are because you are my son,” he finished. He had never expected to give such a talk to a non-mutant.

You felt tears forming in your eyes at his words and you squeezed Erik’s cold hand to give him more courage.

“But… I don’t have any cool superpowers,” Alex whined. “I wish I had.”

“Your superpower is being yourself and that’s enough,” Erik assured him. “And I’m sorry I haven’t seen it earlier. Even though you can’t defend yourself as well as me or your mum or your sister, I will never let anything bad happen to you,” he leaned in to give Alex a hug and pressed his son’s head to his chest. “You’re making me a better person and I was scared of that but I am not anymore. I love you.”

MASTERLIST

[nathanielzalexandria]

I love all the headcanons of "Steve is not dumb he's..." Hard of hearing, has poor eyesight, learning disability or his primary language is not English. I particularly enjoyed @dwobbitfromtheshire 's recent headcanon that he's hiding it because his father hates feeling inferior and only Eddie realizes that he is not dumb. But I would like to throw my own hat in the ring.

Steve is not dumb. Actually, he's quite smart and did quite well in school (because his parents would not expect anything less). He just wasn't into nerd culture and everyone just placed their stereotypes and rumours of him being a pretty and privileged rich jock who bought his way out of school but couldn't buy his way into college. Nevermind that he was in the top 10 students of his year and for most of his classes if not topping them and if not he wasn't failing the rest other than one or two science/math-based (rumours say the school forged those marks so that Steve could continue sports) and had a 3.6 GPA. It wasn't enough to get into his Dad's alma mater so his dad dismissed any of the other schools he got accepted into.

He does not try to hide his intelligence from Nancy or the Party, but Nancy had bought into the "Steve is simple-minded " narrative and the like before they got together and failed to realize that they are both in the same AP classes that were full of seniors and in any group or partnered project he more-than-well pulled his weight and had his own insights. So she spreads the narrative to Mike who spreads it to the rest of the party so by the time the events that befan with Dustin asks him for help with his "dog" and developed into concussed in the back of a car while a preteen drove his car, the kids have also bought into parts of the narrative. It doesn't help that he really isn't into the stereotypical nerdy stuff

Even his best friend Robin believed the lie until she worked with him and then got tortured with him by Russians. She eventually realises that he's way smarter in a practical sense than people give him credit for (he did raise himself since he was 11 or so) but does not think of it as stretching into the academic side of his life. She has not stopped calling him "dingus" though.

Eddie on the other hand knows better, which is why when a specific exam was coming up he turned to Steve.

He barged into the Harrington home a day when tye entire party was their.

"Stevie, you either have to tutor me or lend me your notes for this class. I am not failing this class and increasing the possibility of another year at fucking Hawkins."

Mike and Dustin burst out laughing at that before Steve can answer.

"I know you're e bad at that subject, but I didn't realise you were desperate enough to use Steve's notes," Dustin says with that condescending tone that means it should be obvious to Eddie.

Mike snorts at that derisively, "If he even has notes."

"Maybe," Lucas said diplomatically, "there are better options than using Steve's notes?"

Nancy steps up next offering some of her notes and flashcards since she took the class last year/is taking the class, "It's not my strongest subject but if we do a study group I'm sure you won't fail the class."

Eddie stares at the group with growing bewilderment as they agree that Nancy is the best choice while implying that Steve was not. Actually, they were acting as though he was dumb for even asking Steve, which made no sense to him.

Eddie turned his eyes to Steve. His posture by the kitchen island was much more different than when Eddie burst in. He had subtly curled into himself as if to make himself smaller, shoulders tense and a resignation on his face as if he's been through this conversation so many times before.

It was almost as if...

"You guys think that Steve is dumb, don't you?"

There was the type of silence that only comes when the quiet part is said outloud.

"No we don't think Steve's dumb," Robin begins and Eddie can hear the 'but' before she even said it, "But you know he wasn't good at the school part of school."

She continued to ramble on from there but Eddie did not hear any of it. He was too busy reevaluating the group he was with and rechecking old memories and facts to see if there was any inkling of truth to this strange idea that even the older teens should know isn't true.

It took him a moment to find the answer, and when he did he could not stop the derisive laugh that burst out and interrupted Robin's ramble.

"You guys fucking bought into the rumours, didn't you? I expect that from the kids maybe even Johnathan, maybe even Robin because of you became friends after he left school, but not from you, Nancy."

Nancy had that look on her face that she got when she was ready to argue but Eddie steamrolled over it.

"Jesus H Christ! Weren't y'all together for a whole fucking year? How do you not know that he was at the top of his year when you were together? Unless you dismissed that in favour of believing the rumours that his parents paid for his grades and the school wanted to make sure he kept on playing sports?"

He paused for a second waiting for someone to contradict him, but the look on Nancy's face was one of scrambling to defend herself. He sighed at that; she still wasn't getting it and it a sweeping look at the others proved they were lost too.

"Even if they paid off the school he would not have been in the top ten of his year, he would be like Carver and Hagan whose parents paid and their grades were just good enough to get into a decent college without too many questions. And they would not have kept on giving him high grades after he stopped doing any kind of sport in his last 2 years at that dump. Hell if Hargrove wasn't such a fucking beast at sports he would have been told he would have to repeat his senior year with me."

"It's okay Eddie; leave it go." He turned a fake sunny smile with his eyes tightly shut towards Eddie as if to pacify him.

Eddie turned to Steve who had yet to say anything throughout Eddie's diatribe up until that moment. He just continued to robotically make dinner for the party as though nothing was wrong, as though the hurt dripping off him didn't matter.

"I'm not letting this go! They had classes with you, some of which I'm pretty fucking sure were AP classes. If I had the attendance needed I would have graduated last year because of you, Stevie. So excuse me if I'm a bit annoyed that our friends are so blinded by a rumour that they can't fucking see your Salutatorian medal. Hanging. Right. There!"

All eyes except Eddie and Steve's turned in the direction that Eddie pointed at.

And there on the wall, was a framed silver medal with the word "Salutatorian" emblazoned on it. The party immediately burst into chaos amongst each other.

"Now, pretty boy, are you gonna tutor me or what?"

Or it goes something like that, I'm not sure.

[calisources]

𝐑𝐎𝐘𝐀𝐋 𝐌𝐈𝐒𝐓𝐑𝐄𝐒𝐒𝐄𝐒, 𝐅𝐀𝐕𝐎𝐑𝐈𝐓𝐄𝐒 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐑𝐎𝐘𝐀𝐋 𝐀𝐅𝐅𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐒 𝐒𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐂𝐄𝐒 𝐐𝐔𝐎𝐓𝐄𝐒.

All sentences have been taking from different media and literature, movies and more regarding the topic of mistresses and favorites, mostly in the setting of royal court but can also be adjusted to other time periods. Change names, pronouns, locations as you see fit. Some of these include foul language, so beware. Implications of cheating are also in these.

You are my king, Niko, and I need you.

Everything I say is obeyed; everything I want is given to me.

You are such hard work to seduce, Niko.

She wanted to sit ON him, not next to him.

Never underestimate the power of a woman's intuition.

Behind every great king, there is a great queen. And behind them, there is a mistress.

The King is allowed to have as many favorite as he pleases.

A queen is never without her secrets.

A woman's beauty is her greatest weapon, use it wisely.

Rules are meant to be broken, especially by queens.

Queens do not beg for love, they command it.

Have as many bedwarmers as you wish, but I am your wife and you will not humiliate me.

A queen's grace can disarm her enemies.

He will grow tire of you, as he does with the others.

Having an ugly mistress is therefore a fatal mistake.

When a man takes a mistress, he doesn't turn around and divorce his wife.

Finding out that you are not your lover’s only lover hurts.

But a mistress can do interesting thing with food. Shall I describe them?

You will come back to the castle with me.

I-I'm not your responsibility.

You are mine. They gave you to me, remember? And I want to keep you. 

Your Grace---I am a virgin.

I realize that, and it pleases me. You do not doubt that I can be gentle with you?

They say you grow tire after the first night. No mistress last longer than a night with the king.

I know what you are trying to do, but do not think to take the King away from me. Let him play with you.

Done being sore yet, by chance?

From a mistresses’s perspective, taken men are low maintenance. All they want is sex, sex, sex. 

Do not take it harshly. It’s only flesh. And a body wants what it wants.

Kings have mistresses, Queens have secrets and they die with them.

To be the mistress of a married man is to have the better role.

The role of a mistress if make a man’s mood change and send him happy to his wife.

Don't be mad at a hoe for doing what she does best, besides it's not her that owes you that loyalty.

It was not a request. I will take you to bed and make you mine.

My wife has no interest in my bed, butb I assure you, my bed has interest in you.

 Wives are young men's mistresses, companions for middle age, and old men's nurses. 

I don't want her to know the truth about us.

They know about us and they do not care. My wife does not mind to share.

As long as I do my duty, I am allowed to do who I please.

This absurd jealousy.

A mistress should be like a little oasis, refreshing and exciting, away from the mundane realities of life

The bedchamber is where political alliances are sealed, and where empires are born.

A king may rule a nation, but a woman's allure can conquer the king.

Behind every great king, there are the whispers of his mistresses.

The allure of a mistress lies not only in her beauty, but in her ability to manipulate.

A mistress must be both lover and confidante, juggling passion and secrecy.

In the court of kings, a mistress can become more powerful than a queen.

He is one of his favorites, and everyone knows it. You must become his favorite too.

In the arms of a mistress, a king can escape the weight of his crown.

I want more than this. You cannot offer me more than secret meetings and a warm bed. People whisper.

You can be my wife here. 

If I desire to marry someone else, would I be allowed or you would not let me?

I'll take you as my only mistress. I won't have a thought or an affection for anyone else.

I call Mary my English mare, because I ride her so often.

He cannot give you his true heart... for *I* have that in my keeping.

You can't have 3 people in a marriage!

Seduce me. Write letters to me. And poems, I love poems. Ravish me with your words. Seduce me.

You've taken her honor!

I swear to your grace, someone else was there before me.

They say all his liaisons are soon over. He blows hot, he blows cold.

Sometimes I believe you will grow tire of me. But then I find you here in my bed.

If I cannot please the King, will he kill me?

You must not touch me, for Caesar’s I am.

Everyone knew she was his queen and wife in anything but name.

You will have this orgasm if it’s the last thing I do.

What happened to the art of seduction? A woman enjoys being seduced.

I will not be the laughing stock of the realm. A woman who can only be a lover, never a wife.

I found her a very beautiful young woman with a very sweet and yielding disposition, She confessed to great admiration for Your Majesty. Should I, arrange ...?

If you put the Queen aside for this affair, the kingdom will fall apart.

If you seek Your Grace, you know where to find him.

I trust his mistress more than I trust any man on this table.

My husband is extremely jealous. Wants me sent to a nunnery.

I am with child. It is His Majesty's child.

Slow down so I can see how you do it.

Think of this as training. For your future husband’s pleasure. And mine.

should like to be your wife in every way.

I was wondering if you'd like to become my mistress.

You like to board other men's boats.

You know perfectly well what the King desires and what he shall have.

I saw with my own eyes how attentive he is to you.

My only satisfaction is that in frustrating you, I hasten your fall from the King's good graces.

Any man is weak against a maiden’s magic. Alluring and sweet. Like spring.

I make you this promise. When we are married, I will deliver you a son.

I have yet to decide whether to make your bedmate a head shorter.

So you can have your lovers and I have my own, but at the end, we return to one another. 

If you are not careful and a bastard is conceived, you will be ruined.

Everything will change for her. That kiss is her destiny and fortune.

So, what about this girl, this putain, the king's whore? Why doesn't somebody just get rid of her?

Have any of the women you've bedded with lied about their virginity?

Pretty, witty Nell, don’t forget you are mine until I say so.

Do you seriously expect me to be the first Prince of Wales in history not to have a mistress?

I will teach you many things, how to please a man and in turn, you will be my eyes and ears in court.

I thought you wished for us to be over.

How can I when you plague my mind at every turn.

Let me have you, at least once. Many women would consider it an honor.

[harfanfare]

If that's okay could i request it for Epel?

How to win the heart of Epel Felmier?

a/n: Thank you for requesting~~ Dear Readers, while I am not a native English speaker, I wrote this ff in the English-pronounciation (?) mindset that “Epel” and “Apple” sound very similar. If it’s not all that similar, may Reader be too obsessed with apples to have that selective hearing when it comes to Epel’s name or let’s blame it on the Harveston’s dialect, haha

Be a zealous apple lover.

You envy this boy’s name.

“Apple”? What a majestic word to be named after. The first time you’ve heard a woman calling someone like that, you remember stilling in place and whooping your head at a ten-year-old boy who yelled that he was coming.

And he… doesn’t look like an apple. Maybe you weren’t expecting a walking apple, nor a boy with red hair dressed in all browns, carrying a big basket of apples (and of course, eating one in the other hand) like a character created for a show whose audience is a tad younger than you, but none of the apples you know turn purple.

Never have you imagined someone with such a beautiful name would move so wobbly in snow, the sledge he dragged behind definitely too heavy.

The realization of how unfitting this name was makes you lose a grip on the basket of fabric you got from one of your new neighbours. Well, everyone here is “new” if you just came into this little village just three days ago.

That boy notices you. He must have heard the news because a flash of recognition paints itself on his face. You didn’t return a shy smile at the staring, even if you wanted to. You remember your cheeks prickling from the freezing wind when you bolted home as the apple boy looked like he wanted to say something.

“He doesn’t look like an apple,” you argue with your mother that night, as she kisses your temple goodnight.

“Maybe not. But I would have loved you two to be friends…” Your mother stops in her words as you roll your eyes at her and pout with all your might. She suppresses a laugh that you would take to your heart. “…But, maybe I should be glad he doesn’t resemble an apple at all? You would have fallen head over heels in love with him if he did.”

Yeah, your mother doesn’t need to look so happy as you grew agitated.

“I wouldn’t!” You protest loudly and bury yourself deeper into bed sheets even if your face grows hotter. Maybe of the embarrassment, maybe of the fury, but surely not because of the boy. “I would never fall in love with a boy like him. And I don’t want you to talk about this to anyone!”

You remember your mother’s eyes twinkling with utter amusement. “Yes, yes, all right.”

‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎

2. Challenge Apple to a sled race.

Maybe it’s the fault of far too many action films being aired on TV, yet the idea of being able to win anything a fight was stuck in your head.

Some limited part of your brain thought that, hm, Apple might just give up his name to you if you won in this town’s most famous activity: the Harveston’s Sled Race. It seemed only appropriate for you to pick something the boy must know, even if you had only got your first sledge barely two weeks ago.

“Ya… want my name?” Apple blinks as you grow irate when you repeat your offer once again. You remember rolling your eyes ostentatiously at him, and Apple huffing loudly at you. “What does it even mean, duh?”

He crosses his arms and glared at you. He has the advantage of being just a little bit taller than you, but thankfully, his The-Great-Seven-Better-Bless-Her grandmother never ceases to dress him in fluffy, puffy clothes, always in pastel colours; the cute pompom on top of his beanie and shawl in the adorable pink shade made him much less imposing.

“Whoever wins in this sledge race will be called Apple,” you repeat. Apple squints his eyes at you. “I like this name so much, you have no idea. Please give it up to me.”

“Oh.”

You have no idea why his face slowly turned red. If you knew better, you would have used this opportunity to tease him, but little you didn’t want to mock a newly met boy, even if you just threw down a gauntlet for his name.

“It’s a normal name….” He mutters, and before you can protest, he draws his eyes to you, somehow redeeming you speechless. “…But I’ll challenge you if that’s what you wanna do.”

Huh. You weren’t expecting him to agree so easily.

…Nor were you expecting him to glide on the snow with his sledge. He looked frail enough to not care about things like rides and thought that it would give you the advantage. It did not. Apple flew or used magic, or illusions because he rode so fast the snow beneath him barely left a trace.

That was some cool skill, even if you hated how awed you were.

It seems like you challenged the wrong boy because this one wins with ease.

“Sorry,” he says with flushed cheeks, and his deep breaths create little warm clouds in freezing air. He lays on the snow, and his fringe sticks to his forehead. He has won, and it was a tough victory yet a well-earned one. “I will still be the only Epel in this town.” He shifts his gaze on you. “So. What’s your name?”

Well, he is a (treacherous) winner. You give your name to him.

He smiles slightly, he repeats it slowly and goes quiet. You look over to see him open his eyes from reverie and bright lights dance in his eyes.

“It’s nice. I think it suits you well.”

‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎

3. Have some baking skills.

“Epel, dear. We’ll be having our little neighbour helping us this year’s festival, so please show how responsible can you be and teach [Name] how to prepare apples for the pies.”

Ugh. If only Grandma Marja wasn’t so kind, you would have been protesting more.

Apple looks at you and you frown slightly as he sighs at your sight.

“You again?”

And because Grandma Marja already left, you feel free to announce your displeasure with the situation as well. Sadly, there are no other kids your age in this village, so you are probably bound to accompany him for the rest of your whole life here as he’s your only peer.

“Unfortunately.”

Apple hands you an apron, before ordering you to wash your hands. Because the kitchen island is too occupied with other dishes and too high for any of you without a stool, you take a seat next to a coffee table that was impractically set between the salon and kitchen, leaving just enough space to create a narrow route from one room to another.

“Have you ever baked an apple pie before?” He asks and you shake your head. His brows furrow slightly as he thinks whether you will be a help here at all. “So, it will be a long day…”

He better not write you off before you can even start.

You cross your arms. “Test me first, complain later... if ever.”

“I’m not complaining. But we have a knife and a peeler. Oh, and it hurts if you get cut. You should take it slowly and be careful,” he adds and hops to the other room to grab a basket full of apples. He lays it between you two.

Apple doesn’t let you use a knife.

“I am older than you,” he says and takes an apple from you to cut it into even pieces. You don’t notice the skill he has to make careful cuts precise and clean, as you glare at him.

“Barely.”

The few-month gap in your age isn’t enough to stop you from insisting that you can do more complicated things than just peeling apples. That’s some arduous work, especially when the peeler doesn’t cooperate and the thin fruit’s skin gets stuck between the blades.

So, Apple, who couldn’t contain that last annoyed sigh, finally lends you a knife. He instructs you, but after several times that you tell him you know what are you doing, he hesitantly goes back to his work. You could feel a worried gaze at you nonetheless, and at one time you looked over your shoulder to see him staring at you.

And that’s when the knife slips from your hands.

You don’t scream, but a gasp and a sudden flinch gives you away.

“Aaaand that’s what I was saying,” he immediately drops the apple he was taking care of, and stands next to you, scrutinizing the cut. It’s not bigger than a paper cut, yet it’s a bit deeper and stings as much. You quickly hide your hands from him. “Go take your hand under the cold water. I will get some bandages.”

He gets some. He then orders you—” I am the older one here and I was right before, so I am in charge between us two,” as you were told—to sit on the sofa as he carefully wraps one bandage around your finger. The gesture it’s almost cute from him, but it doesn’t lift your foul mood at all.

“I made more trouble than I’ve helped,” you say quietly. Epel looks at you, a bit surprised.

“You sayin’ that this little cut is making you quit?” And now he has that stupid smile on his lips that makes your blood not boil, but warm up at least five degrees. “Awh, poor thing.”

You get up in a hurry.

“…I didn’t say that.”

“Then don’t give up like that,” he chastises you, but he can’t hide a (still very stupid) smile when you pass him to get to the kitchen counter. “But be more careful from now. No one wants to eat a bloody apple pie.”

‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎

4. Get into NRC and survive a shock.

Over the years, you’ve become friends, close enough to plan to go to college together, if the opportunity arises. It did.

“Cheers!”

The perfect way to celebrate getting into NRC is with a soft drink, sparkling soda and a big plate of snacks. Although you bought chips for the occasion, your and Apple’s parents prepared a pile of homemade goodies and they couldn’t compare to those store-bought.

Your can clinks against Apple’s and you take a sip.

“It’s not like I ever thought of Night Raven Collage rejecting the best candidates ever,” Apple says with a sigh. Only today you can notice how stiff he was before; although he’d been playing it cool, he was tense all the time. “But that’s one burden off your chest.”

You nod in agreement and look at the acceptance papers once again. When a time will come, carriages with Gates will come for you two… And that’s a thrilling thought.

“This document looks so official,” you say. “What a pretty paper. It looks so elegant.”

Apple empties his can and briefly glances at you.

“Nothin’ special about it…”

And because you want to see the comparison (maybe there are hidden hints where you might be allocated to by the Dark Mirror?), you take his document. The first thing that crosses your mind, is that there is something wrong with his name.

“Wait,” you shriek loudly, and Apple shudders from surprise. He would chastise you for screaming so loud if you didn’t look so worried. “They spelled your name wrong!”

“Huh?” Apple feels a pang of horror, the same you feel when you tap your pockets in search of your phone. As if he found it, once he reads the top of the document again, he relaxes. His lips form into a thin line: he thinks you are pranking him. “No way. Everything is correct.”

“No, look here. Your name, Apple!”

“It’s… Correct.”

“E- P- E- L. And your name is A- P- P- L- E, no?”

“…What?” Epel, not Apple, looks surprised but not as surprised as you. “You thought my name was ‘Apple’ for all those years?!”

You bite your lip to not question it. Is it not? Your cheeks burn from embarrassment, and your heart feels heavy as if you have just betrayed your best friend. It never crossed your mind to have him write down his name, and there wasn’t a reason for him to do so: in this small town there is no school, neither are there the tests you need to sign.

“…I’m sorry.” You stutter, and Epel brushes the crumbs off from his blouse and gets up.

“Goodbye,” he says, making his way towards the door. He doesn’t seem that upset over the whole thing, as much as confused. Tomorrow everything will return to normality, but Epel will have a top-tier teasing material for years. “That’s too many revelations for today.”

“Wait, Epel!”

“Go to ya Apple boy.”

“No!! I said I’m sorry!”

‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎

5. Get sorted into any dorm but Pomefiore.

“Stop laughing.”

“I can’t…! Ha…”

You take a big breath to calm yourself down, but once you look up at Epel and his grimace, it’s impossible to not burst out laughing so loud and so breath-taking you drop to the floor. Epel nudges you. You might be in his room, yet he knows if he’ll be too loud, someone will come to shush you two.

And maybe they will punish him, but Epel isn’t familiar with Pomefiore’s customs, so he doesn’t know what to expect.

“How come you got sorted into another dorm, while we are practically the same?” Epel mumbles, lying down on his bed. The sheets are heavy yet comfortable, luxurious like the whole room. It feels like a museum here, where each item is more valuable than your life and you need permission to rearrange the interior.

To Epel, Pomefiore is the worst dorm. He remembers you teasing him about getting sorted to Pomefiore, but neither of you thought it would come true. It’s too stiff, too restrictive and cares too much about appearances. Epel’s heart feels heavy at the thought of the next four years here.

“Maybe Dark Mirror doesn’t sort the dorm judging by the alikeness of two last brain cells but the shape and colour of the soul,” you nudge him back, waking him up from his reverie.

“Or maybe it didn’t get any input of brain cells from you.”

“Well, your desire to be the prettiest boy in the town got to it, so I think it functions well.”

You chuckle at the dead glare he throws you.

Epel finally sighs.

“…I would like to change the dorms.”

“I don't know whether the Dark Mirror accepts complaints,” you tease him. The gloom is abruptly replaced by irritation, and that’s nice. An angry Epel is better than a devastated Epel. “But if you ever want to escape for a while, you are welcome in my room. We can have a sleepover whenever you want.”

“…Thank you.”

‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎

5.5. Sorted into Pomefiore exception.

“You ain’t elegant at all, though.”

“It seems like my elegance bleaks in comparison to yours, pretty boy.”

“You are blind.”

Epel tries to push you away, but you sidestep while giggling. He glares at you, and thankfully, his eyes don’t seem that sad. When he returned to his seat after getting sorted to Pomefiore, he looked bewildered, as if he suddenly wasn’t in the NRC he dreamed of but some other, less-dreamlike school.

You remember him blinking back tears, but maybe not from sadness—thankfully, Epel doesn’t pity himself—but melancholy, as if he just lost something he didn’t even have. Maybe also fury and confusion.

“It will be fun to stay here together,” you prompt, and Epel sighs but a trace of a smile appears on his lips. Thank Great Sevens for the little lights that brighten the azure tones in his eyes.

“Guess I’m stuck being your neighbour forever.”

“It can’t be that bad.”

“No?”

“Of course not. You already know how great friend I can be.”

“…I guess you’re right,” he sticks out his tongue. Vil will have a lot of work if he wants to make him a fine gentleman. Well. You will take any version of Epel, even the pettiest and most teasing one, so it’s Vil’s burden to bear. “Kind of.”

You pout at him, but a quiet smile breaks your coolness. “So petty.

‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎

6. Listen to your manly man complain about Vil.

After several weeks in NRC, you could tell Epel still hasn’t gotten used to Pomefiore, and especially its leader.

“I can’t handle him pointing out each… well, everything!” He hides his face in his hands and sluggishly rubs his eyes; he looks tired enough even if Pomefiore must have those eight hours of sleep every night mandatory. “He would find wrongdoings in the way I breathe.”

“I would too. You don’t breathe as much through your nose as you think you do. That’s so very unhealthy, Epel. Your skin will be ruined in the next week of running.”

Epel throws you a warning look as if you had hit the nail with your talk. “Stop or I will strangle you with a pillow in your sleep. I already have Ace on my list.”

You chuckle at a threat, and Epel rolls his eyes. “How dramatic.”

“I have enough drama in my life,” he continues, and you can feel from his tone that he either suppresses the sigh. No apathy or fury anymore, though. Pomefiore must be slowly growing on him, and you take it as a good sign. “My two upperclassmen are going to be a death of me. I don’t know how could I end up in Pomefiore. This kind of lifestyle doesn’t suit me.”

“You complain about them a lot, but, in reality, you look up to him, no?” You tease. “Even you can say the beauty he possesses is influential and somewhat powerful.”

“He might look majestically but it doesn’t make him any less annoying. Now, let’s stop talking about him.”

“Why not? I might become Vil Schoenheit’s fan.”

He clasps his hands on your mouth, so you have to fully focus on his glaring.

“You can’t. You are my fan.”

You pout but after he takes his hands off you, a lopsided smile cracks your lips. “I guess you’re right.”

‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎

7. Argue, duh.

That’s a hobby of you two, although a risky one. It always leaves a weight on your heart, because you cannot not care for Epel. While jokes and sarcasm are never intended to hurt any of you, and you can almost always distance yourself from teasing comments, his every word is precious to you.

“Don’t be a killjoy,” would make you roll your eyes if Epel didn’t look so serious. Your smile falters, and something in your stomach twists. You know this conversation was going to end in an argument even before he glowered at you.

“Hey, don’t say it like that,” you stutter the words, placing a hand on his arm. It would come as a reassuring gesture, yet Epel made an effort to move a seat away, and your arm fell aimlessly, sadly. “I am just worried about our grades. That have. Uh. Dropped marginally.”

You stare at your shoes because listening to your best friend being displeased with you so greatly is heartbreaking.

“We have the whole weekend ahead of us to study,” he argued. “Be serious. You don’t want me to go, because you weren’t invited, isn’t that so?”

You sigh. You’ve never expected to be invited to each of their meetings: they are Epel’s friends, and you have yours.

While you knew Ace and Deuce were delightful company, you always thought Epel would choose you over them, even if you suggested something as unentertaining as studying because you would do the same.

You were wrong, after all. Maybe that’s the difference of willpower between a just-a-friends mindset and having a crush on him. Do you really have a crush on him, though? Or maybe you’ve expected too much from a childhood friendship.

“Well, no. I mean, I would love to be invited, but—”

“We don’t need to hang out together every time we have a spare afternoon,” he said, and while it was a true statement, it hurt. If you weren’t able to somehow steel your nerves, you would know you wouldn’t be able to bear the prickling in your eyes. Epel’s next suggestion comes as a whisper. “Sometimes… We should take a break from each other, ya know? And I need to figure, uh, something out.”

The news shocks you so much, that you don’t notice how he visibly abstains from lifting a hand to his chest.

Well. You always knew you were a hopeless romantic.

“Breaks from each other, huh…”

You take in the phrase in silence. Epel takes this chance as an opportunity to gather his things and pack them.

“…I’ll be leaving. Good luck studying or whatever.”

“…Alright. Have—” fun, you wanted to say, but the door shut and Epel left you alone.

‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎

8. Go through the silent treatment phase.

After a week of awkward conversations, Epel has forgotten about that talk. The pain in your chest dulled and you were growing indifferent as if you were watching a show—your life—that started to bore you, not engaging you at all.

You stared blankly at the screen of your phone.

— today —

Epel: Hey

Epel: are u free todya?? you’ve been so absent last weeks >:((

Epel: Grim and prefect invited us for gaming night

Epel: dont ya DARE do skip it again

— seen: now —

…Yeah. You feel nothing, maybe only a little sad at the memory when you felt so vivid and happy when you got a message from Epel.

“No, sorry, I am busy with studying lol,” you type, and while you know that excuse will wear out in the next few days, for as much as you’ve been using it for the last week to avoid hanging out with Epel, your (ex-?) best friend starts to type something. He will protest and argue and try to convince you, but you don’t want to talk today. “Maybe next time.”

So you turn off your phone, sinking deeper into the pillows on your bed.

You don’t have the energy to confront Epel right now.

And that’s it.

…

You fell into a slumber deep enough to not hear the hesitant-turned-frantic knocking to your room.

‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎

9. Let Epel hear the advice of unreliable gurus of love.

They are really unreliable, look messy, and they judge you. The worst kind of people to go for (love?) advice, but Epel assures himself that he needs honesty, not a pat on his back or a shoulder to cry on. He also is out of other options.

Moreover, he would like to cry nowhere near Ace, who would obviously mock him. Even now it’s hard to have a heart-to-heart conversation when he and Deuce chomp on some type of dessert and some awfully happy music from videogame plays in the back of the room. “So? What did you do?”

“Ace,” Deuce is kind enough to elbow Ace in the stomach when Epel’s stoic expression falters.

His shoulders drop. “No, he… He is kinda right.”

Ace throws a winning smile but moves too far away from Deuce to have him punch him for the cheekiness. “’ Kinda’?”

“…Totally right,” Epel finally admits. “[Name] has been avoiding me and I have no idea what should I do,” He throws his arms on the table, and almost hides his face in the palms of his hands. Instead, he moves away the strands of his unruly hair. “Ugh. Why I am even asking you guys to help me? You’re even worse at this kind of thing.”

“Speak for yourself. And Deuce,” Ace cuts him off. And before Deuce can do anything else than glare at him, Ace shifts closer to Epel and throws an arm over his shoulder so he has to hunch. “Epel, question: what is “this kind of thing”. You mean… as in friendships or dating?”

Deuce looks shocked, even so more than Epel. “Dating?!”

“Why are you even so shocked?” Ace asks him, furrowing his eyebrows. When Deuce starts to ponder over his words, he rolls his eyes. “[Name] probably have had a crush on this imbecile”— he points his fork at Epel—” for damn years now, if I had to guess”.

“Years?!”

“Thank you for the dramatic echo effect again, Deuce,” Ace snarls and finally focuses on Epel. Too distracted with a bickering between his friends, his spirits lift up a little. “And you, Epel. Pull yourself together. Do you want to sever the relationship? Do nothing. Do you want to be friends? Apologize to [Name] and try to patch the bond. Do you want to be in a relationship? …Welp, figure out that for yourself.”

…

“Amazing advice, Ace,” Deuce claps his hands theatrically.

He sticks out his tongue and winks. “You could never give a better one.”

Epel gets up from his seat.

“Thanks, you two. I… will do something.”

“Good luck,” Ace waves at him as Epel makes his way over to the door. “If it works out, you owe us a free drink. Especially me.”

‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎

10. Have Epel fight for your love!!

It’s hard to find someone when the person knows your schedule and actively tries to avoid you. Choosing more roundabout corridors and sacrificing your wallet to have most of your meals in Monstro Longue instead of the cafeteria are only some of the things you did to avoid encountering Epel.

But he didn’t give up, and maybe his tenacity is what makes you oblige Epel once he finds you.

You don’t question him when he grabs your hand and asks you to skip the last lesson with him that feels almost unimportant as his intertwined fingers warm yours. You don’t comment on how his grip is stronger than usual and how he doesn’t let it go when your hands begin to sweat.

But as you leave the main building of NRC, the curiosity gets the better of you.

“Where are we heading to?”

Epel looks over his shoulder to blink at you. “I…,” he stammers, as confused enough to leave you wondering what is your final destination. Or what was your final destination, Epel seems to have forgotten whatever plan he had in mind. “I guess it can be here.”

He ushers you into one of the side alleys, a bit distanced from the main street and sits you down on a bench. You eye him curiously as he slowly lifts his hands to your face—and that is the first time he let go of your hand—and cupped your cheeks.

“Let me be clear. I- really like you,” he said loudly, gazing into your eyes. “And I know I… overreacted earlier. I’m sorry. I don’t want you to avoid me.”

You breathe out slowly. The heat from the “I really like you” moment prickles and makes your face hotter. It doesn’t help that Epel doesn’t shift his gaze from you nor that he has his hands firmly on your cheekbones as he awaits your answer.

“I’m… sorry. I shouldn’t have been getting between you and your friends.”

Epel eyes you, bewildered. “Why are you focusing on that part?”

“Huh?”

“Ah. Maybe… I will phrase it differently,” He hesitates and his tone wavers, but he says the words without a stutter, as if he’s been practising them in front of the mirror, effectively. “I love you.”

“And I- I want to be friends even if you don’t feel the same.” He rushes with an explanation when you don’t answer as your mind goes blank. “Because. I don’t want you to… avoid me anymore. A-actually, you don’t have to rush with your answer. Just, decide, someday, in the near future, haha? I will wait.”

He glances at you and you know he won’t be able to bear long without hearing your answer. As he rushes past you, you think you heard a hushed whisper.

“Dear Sevens, I said it…!”

[ronaldothebestie]

Neon Nightfall | Rúben Dias

Rúben Dias x Singer!reader

* ˚ ✦ Summary: When you discovers that her boyfriend has one of youre songs as an alarm.

Tw: Mentions of previous sex, a normal Saturday morning, you are being a little devil, They both have affectionate names.

Beautiful people are talking (series)

English is not my first language!🤪

* ˚ ✦

"Come on, Ruby, wake up!" The young woman kicks the bed hard, making the big guy on the bed with the sheets only covering the bottom, groan in frustration and roll over on the bed.

It was exactly 6 am, and until a few minutes ago you are super comfortable in the muscular arms of your long-time boyfriend, Rúben Dias, until you woke up with a start to the sound of your own voice coming from the bedside table.

It's your own song , Neon Nightfall, one of the biggest hits of your career, it was in first place on the Billboard hot 100 for a month and a half a few years ago, a single that changed the rhythm every second, an unpredictable song, it was probably That's what made her so good.

In other words, you arrived yesterday, Friday night, after half a year without seeing each other in person, after an intense night and just wanting to sleep until 15h(3pm), but you were prevented from doing so by herself.

On the one hand, it made you extremely happy for him because he liked yours songs to the point of setting them as an alarm, and on the other, it made you prone to teasing Rúben to death.

So you'll do this to your cute boyfriend who was sleeping peacefully, you approached him, who looked like a starfish on the bed, obviously you took a photo with it, you climbed on top of him, sitting on his belly, put yours lips to his ear, coughing a little to avoid the usual morning hoarseness and began to sing in a high tone, enough to wake him up.

As you did so, you immediately felt hands on yours hips and out of nowhere you were underneath Rúben, who let out a sort of scream and breathed heavily into your neck.

You are mortified for a few minutes, feeling the heat rise to your cheeks as you realized that in any dangerous situation Rúben's first reaction, perfect and wonderful boyfriend, father of a beautiful daughter and a fucking hot player he was protecting you and nothing else mattered to him, even if he was naked from head to toe.

You just put your arms on his soft back, hugging him and starting to laugh when Rúben towered over him with sleepy and slightly bored eyes.

"What the fuck, Bunny?" You keep laughing and removed one of your hands just to stroke his messy hair.

"I was just woken up at 6am with Neon Nightfall blasting in my ears, that was less than I could do Ruby~" You just caressed the now red cheeks of the big guy on top of you.

"So you heard... Shit." He smiled and turned his face slightly towards the window that radiated the early morning sun of Manchester City, embarrassed for his girlfriend to discover like this, that all the alarms were the songs of his favorite singer, You, or, just Bunny in his case.

"Now he's all embarrassed? Ruby, this is so cute ❤️, I loved discovering this, even though it could be a more... Like Frozen Time." You smiled affectionately, a little more crazy in love with him than you already are.

Even though they spent half the year apart, he always found a way to surprise you with a gift that always left you with hearts in her eyes.

And with this serious muscular man facade that he gave to everyone, you LOVE this facade seeing him looking so cute, like he was the cutest bear in the world, he was It always made you feel warm inside, it was no wonder that half of your songs were about him.

"This is very sad, to wake up it's better not to hear my girlfriend's sad voice." He grabbed you, sat with you on his lap and leaned against the headboard, feeling your snuggle against him, he just grabbed your waist, dressed only in Rúben's shirt from the previous night.

"Ruby, it's all cute and all, but can you wear something underneath? It's super weird feeling everything down here." You grimaced, avoiding moving as much as possible.

"You didn't complain last night, and my ears hurt, shouting in the morning doesn't help anyone."

"Shouting!? You've got to be kidding! I listened to Neon Nightfall for five whole minutes!" You screamed uselessly and hit his arm.

"Yes, yes, great thing Bun Bun, your voice is beautiful, the most beautiful I know, but you screaming at 6 in the morning is not good for the big guy here."

"This big guy is going to sleep on the couch today."

"Is it my house?"

"I just don't care!"

Bonus:

"Ruby, what do you mean you're going to the gym at 7am on a Saturday!?" You looks indignantly at the outfit all produced just to go train.

"Bunny, a player's job isn't easy."

"But it's Saturday! And who is going to protect me in this giant city for a poor innocent foreigner full of London dreams?"

"Bunny, yesterday you almost ripped out all my hair, ruined my back completely and I almost lost my dick, so we can forget about innocence, it's impossible for you to get lost in this city because you're rich enough to-"

"Enough! There's no need for more humiliation! I understand that I'm nothing.." You just turned your back, looking with your head down at the extremely beautiful floor.

"[Reader]... You're everything to me, okay? Now I'm going leave now, I'm going to try to get there early so we can visit the city. Is that okay?" You felt arms wrap around your waist and a kiss on your cheek and temples, your eyes widened and you are surprised by your boyfriend's rare use of your name.

"Okay Ruby, but don't call me by my name, it's weird coming from you."

"Bunny, Will Canela take good care of you while I'm gone?"

"She always takes care of me all the time."

Rúben just turned you around, kissing your lips tenderly and placing one of her platinum locks behind her ear.

Rúben just turned you around, kissing your lips tenderly and tucking one of your strands of hair behind your ear.

"That is good."

* ˚ ✦

So... I don't know what I'm doing here.

If you're here again and you're confused about the "reader" it's because I decided to change the OC to "reader insertion" with a vote on the blog.

Unfortunately, I wasn't able to explore the singing world today, and I'm confused if I'll continue with the original character or "reader", one of these days I'll do a vote.😩

Update: I already took the vote and Reader won.

But more parts of this universe will appear, and it took me a while to publish this chapter with just a few words, as there were several different versions of the same universe and I didn't like any of them, so that was it and we are here.

Thanks for reading, reblogs, feedback and likes are very welcome!!!

© All this shit belongs to @ronaldothebestie on Tumblr, so don't translate, repost, copy in no social media, do not commit plagiarism, It's crime and wtf?

[yurislilygarden]

ʚїɞ Self Aware! Hazbin Hotel

ʚїɞ Their reaction after becoming self-aware and first thoughts about reader!

ʚїɞ Angel Dust and Husk / Part 2!

ʚїɞ Keep in mind English is not my first language, so you may find mistakes!

ʚїɞ Word count: just about 1.1k

ʚїɞ Part 1! (Lucifer and Alastor)

ʚїɞ This is WAY shorter than I would like, but I suppose that the first part was more filler-like for the au😭 May rewrite it one day ngl, am not satisfied with how this turned out but I've been at this for way too long

Very few characters would notice something wrong on the first watch of the show, but wouldn't realize, nor become self-aware until the 2nd or further watch. 

While everyone's reaction would be different with different amounts of stages before total acceptance of the situation, they all would share the first emotion, simple disbelief. They would first need to even process the fact that they're not real, that they were created solely for the purpose of entertaining… something? Someone? In a completely different Universe. That everything that they thought had happened to them before they died didn't actually happen, they were never alive in the first place. Only after that did the emotions and reactions differ. The very first emotion or actual personal reaction would be:

Angel Dust

Irritation, a little bit of Anger, paranoid

Angel would be mainly irritated and somewhat angry due to realizing that all his pain was technically for nothing. The treatment from Val? His life back on earth that supposedly never happened? His life generally in hell? All that pain and suffering just to entertain someone? At first, he doesn't want to accept that it never happened, that he never existed, that he was never actually alive. That he’s just a 2D character. He just can’t.

He would become paranoid after the immense stress from noticing the little butterfly flying above them from time to time came in, after all, he had no way of knowing if he himself or others were watched only when they could see the little glowing motherfucker, or maybe they could be watched even without seeing them, without their knowledge. He would be a little disappointed in himself for not noticing anything earlier, especially since they don’t know just how long have you been watching them. He'd be up for drugs way more than ever, no, he didn't want to disappoint Charlie or anyone else by fucking up the progress he'd been doing, but surely they would understand looking at the whole picture right? He’d rather go back to being blissfully unaware than knowing he's not real if it means he's gonna feel like this. He hates it. He hates you.

At least at the start.

It was soon after he became self-aware that the others realized why he was acting more strangely than normal and filled him in on what they knew, which was barely anything, to tell the truth, but it was enough to get him thinking. Were you as bad as he first thought if you did nothing but watch them the whole time? He will blame Charlie for all the better thoughts of you, but he started thinking, what if you really can't do anything but watch? He knows others have mixed thoughts about what can you do, an example being whether you can only watch, or do you choose to just watch. He's on the ‘can only watch‘ team.

His feelings were mixed for a pretty long time. On one side, he thought he should be against the small glowing thingy, but there's also the other side seeing that you do nothing to them, just watch.

(I would say that he would have a little soft spot if you reminded him of Molly, his sister, but we don’t know anything about her. I’m guessing she was nice/good since she landed in heaven, so yeah, remind him of his sister in some way and there’s a soft spot he tries to hide.)

He was really negative at first, starting out as really irritated, but with time and help from the others (mainly Charlie since she didn't want anyone in the hotel to be against you), he did get to the neutral zone, and by the time any of them meet you, he would be in the more positive neutral zone.

Husk

Anger and worry

To say he's pissed would be the understatement of the century. The moment he processed his, everyone’s, situation and the disbelief passed, he could just feel anger, because how dare someone disregard their feelings, their whole damn existence like that? Do you think that they’re some sort of clowns that are supposed to entertain you?! Like most characters, he’s disappointed in himself as well for not noticing earlier. It’s even worse when there’s others who noticed before him and didn’t say shit.

But as much as he's pissed off, there's actually the feeling of worrying just under. What does it mean for them now that they realize they're just characters in a show, that they find out something they shouldn't? Can it fuck up their life on this side? Can it fuck up the whole city or more because of this? Should they try to continue living like they don't know shit or try to communicate with you or your world? Similar to Lucifer's, his mind is a mess.

Like everyone, he hates the idea, the knowledge, of the fact that they all are just some 2D characters created to be in some sort of a show to entertain people. Did that mean that his whole past of being an Overlord didn’t happen at all? That his supposed memories of that time were fake? Could he have been free from the deal if he had an actual choice in his actions?

He would keep reminding himself all the time about their situation even if he doesn’t want to, his mind just goes there without permission. He feels his skin crawl thinking about all the time that they’ve been watched, controlled, without knowing, for who knows how long. He would be in the middle when it comes to when all of the characters became self-aware, there were some before him, but there were also some people after him.

Reader can only see what they're meant to, and the characters realize it over time, but Husk knowing it leads to him sometimes trying to catch the small glowing butterfly in his paws when he is off screen/camera for you. Which he fails at every time as his hands just phase through your small form.

The others can just occasionally see him jumping up and down trying to catch the little shit or use his wings and try to catch your small form like that just to fail every single time.

Like with everyone else, you could have a small personal favor. You would have a sort of a plus point in his mind if you turned out to like gambling or card games, he would find the idea of playing with/against you somewhat enjoyable (he would think of gambling for answers, a deal where the one who wins a round will ask a question and the other has to answer to the best of their capability).

It would take longer than most, even with the others trying to help, to get him to the neutral zone, never mind the positive one. It was hard for him to see you in any other light than negative when they had so little information on you, for all they could know, what little they had could’ve been completely wrong. So his feelings start at practically despising you, then after a longer time going into simply not caring as much, shrugging off, if you will, and that wouldn’t change too much until he meets reader personally.

Notes, comments, and reblogs are greatly appreciated

｡⋆｡˚ ʚ Taglist ɞ ˚｡⋆｡

@laundrybear413

[nightwngz]

— 𝓐 𝐥𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐨𝐧 𝐨𝐫 𝐭𝐰𝐨 ✮!! eng.

fratboy!wally west x fem!reader

𝘄𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀… drabble, porn with plot. smut. dirty talk, multiple orgasms, oral sex, fingering.

𝗰𝗼𝗽𝘆𝗿𝗶𝗴𝗵𝘁. . . no copying of my work is allowed. Free translation is allowed as long as I am credited.

𝗹𝗮𝗻𝗴𝘂𝗮𝗴𝗲. . . as I said in my other posts, English is not my first language. I have tried to make corrections with the translator, but as you all know, it is prone to making mistakes, so I apologize in advance for any mistakes or if anything sounds weird.

𝗻𝗼𝘁𝗲. . . A friend of mine gave me the idea for this, so I said, 'Okay, this sounds good,' and decided to write it. I hope you like it.

Since you started university, you’ve always been part of the crowd. You never cared about being popular or standing out in class; you just wanted to get by like everyone else. You made an effort to fit in without drawing attention, avoiding conflict and focusing on passing with just enough.

Being part of the university meant interacting with certain people, even those you weren't particularly interested in but had to tolerate. Like the popular guys from a fraternity whose name you couldn’t quite remember, led by Richard Grayson and Wallace West—better known to their friends as Dick and Wally—or those slightly higher on the social ladder than you.

Dick Grayson was friendly, and his appearance clearly explained why he was so popular. He was also sweet and kind, so much so that if one of your friends asked you directly, you'd probably admit to having a crush on him. Wally, on the other hand, was a different story. Although he was funny and somewhat charming, and also popular because he was Dick's best friend, he didn't appeal to you as much. In fact, there were times when he would shamelessly try to flirt with you, but you would just respond with a gesture before completely ignoring him.

Conveniently, no matter how hard you tried to stay away from Wally, he always found a way to cross your path. Like the day you were sitting with Timothy Drake in the cafeteria when Dick Grayson came over to say hello to his brother. Wally seized the opportunity, walked up, grabbed Dick by the shoulders, and wasted no time flirting with you.

— Don't worry, babe. If you don't understand anatomy, I can give you a lesson or two.

You don't know what part of you thought it was a good idea to have Wally help you study. But you didn't realize how bad it was until the books fell off the bed where you were supposed to be studying and his face literally ended up between your legs.

You had never been with someone with such fast skills, so to speak. It was like being with The Flash himself. His tongue moved quickly over your wet pussy, causing your eyes to roll back in pleasure.

His tongue glided over your lips, tracing them from top to bottom, while his greenish gaze was fixed on yours. With one hand he helped you to spread your legs wider and with the other he filled your tight hole completely with two of his fingers. Then, growing restless, he moved to your clit, where he began to give you sweet, teasing licks. His mouth moved so quickly between your clit and your lips that it seemed he was caressing both at the same time.

And when you arched your back, with moans so intense that Wally was sure they could be heard in the hallway, he knew you would climax any moment, for the third time that night, with minimal effort on his part. It hadn’t even taken him more than five minutes.

Sweat trickled down your forehead as you reached your climax, and a wave of pleasure swept through your entire body. As you gasped, you watched as Wally pulled away from between your legs, a mischievous smile on his face. He looked beautiful, his mouth smeared with your fluids, and maybe that's why you didn't ask him to clean up.

— Damn, babe, that was so good. After what comes next, you'll be so dazed that the only name you'll remember from these books will be "Wally”.

You looked at him with wide eyes, confused by what he meant by 'after what comes next.' Hadn’t it ended? You wondered if you could handle more, given that you had already had more than you could bear.

— Oh, what? Did you think that was it? Unfortunately for you, we're not done yet. And I have enough stamina to fuck you for hours.

[cynthiesjmxazrielslover]

Bittersweet love

An original AUmodernAzriel x Reader

these songs remind me of them <3333

Warnings: Mentions of abuse, mention of trauma Summary: Growing up with your abusive father and your mother who never spoke up against him, you had truly given up hope of any chance of a real relationship, of real love, the ones of the kind that you read about in your books, till you're proven wrong.

A/N: this is my first fic ever+english isnt my first language, and I wrote this in a daze, the idea came to me at like 3 AM,so....enjoy muah<3 Thump.....thump. DAMN IT CAROLINE GET OUT HERE! Another night another fight, that too on their anniversary, a classic. I scoff thinking about all the picture-perfect smiles and the absolutely lovely speech my dad had read out for my mom tonight, a show, it was all a show, no one knew what went inside our house every week, how my dad hit my mom, screamed at her and then bought ridiculously expensive gifts for her as if that would fix everything. I was so so tired of their useless fights, every time it all ended the same way, with my mom never leaving. I heard the rain outside before I saw it. One thing about me was that I always loved the rain, growing up, and till now it just felt right to cry under its cover, to cry with it, to admire how beautiful it felt to be enveloped in her comfort and just...let everything go. I sneaked out my window and walked out of our backyard. There was an abandoned house right behind mine, I spread rumors just so everyone thought, it was either haunted or inhabited, in truth it was my den. Snacks, clothes, comfy blankets, duvets, you name it. It had all I needed to feel better. When I entered my lair I noticed that most of my snacks were empty and the empty packets pristine clean. Oh no, someone had discovered the truth, I turned around only to find a pair of hazel eyes staring back at me, the darkness enveloped him, I couldn't see him, but guessed well enough he was taller than me. I cursed at myself for being stupid enough to enter an abandoned place at night in the middle of a heavy down pour. No, no, no, no. I stepped back I couldn't die like this, not in this shit hole. "Um, hello there. Are you okay? you just seem a little pale" I gaped at him. He had the most alluring voice id ever heard on a man and damn did it mess with my senses. "I won't hurt you, I promise. Look I'm not armed plus I dont even have enough energy to argue right now." He stepped a bit closer enough that I could make out his silhouette illuminated by the moonlight. His hazel eyes were a sweet honey brown shade, tanned skin, muscles, tall as frick, and hot too. Holy crap this guy looked straight out of a book. "Hello?". Realizing I'd been gaping at it the whole time it took me second to remember the situation I'd found myself in before I said "Hi, Im Lana" I lied, my name wasnt lana but i wasnt gonna tell some random guy who ate my snacks AND all my blueberry sour candy my name, Im not that dumb. He steps out of the shadows so i could get a proper look at him, and so he could look at me i realize. "Hello Lana, Im Azriel". I looked at him, really looked at him noticed 3 things, 1. He didnt look much older than me, meaning either he was in school or in college, 2. He was wearing my oversized hoodie which looked a little too small on him, and 3. He looked in a bad shape. He had bruises on his face marring his body, burned hands, swollen eye and looked cold, very cold and malnourished. He looked almost......homeless.

I snuck a glance outside.

I silently swore, if this man- Azriel, stayed here any longer he would DIE, either of fever or due to infection. I might already have brought a one way ticket to the deepest darkest pits of hell but doesnt mean he did. Without a thought i spit out "Come to my house". "Im sorry what?" he chuckled out smirking at me as a flush crept over me. "I-I meant that you cant stay here, there's heavy rain and its cold here. pfft that's totally what i meant" i stammer out. Reminder to curl up and die in a corner later on. He furrows his brow at my statement, a hint of amusement on his face. "Haven't you heard of stranger danger Lana?" He pipes out, his voice low and gravelly. "I doubt an 18 year old guy who wears Minnie Mouse hoodies with dora the explorer socks and a pink bow pajamas would try to kidnap me" Okay now this dude was really crossing it for me. Reminder number 2- Drown these clothes in holy water before wearing them again. Now it was his turn to be embarrassed. "I still look better in these than you could ever. But you're smart and these clothes fit me like a fucking tank top and shorts, so yes, Lana, I'll come to your house. Only because Im freezing out here" He added FRICK. FRICK THIS WAS A BAD,BAD IDEA

Azriels POV I stepped out of the shower, steam rising from the hot water. I smelled like lavender soap and vanilla- The scent of real men. I put on the fresh pair of clothes Lana gave me, A little smaller than what i wore but better than those hoodies of hers anyway. I saw her reading a book when i stepped out, no gods not another book-obsessed psycho. She motioned for me to sit down and applied some bandages, honey, and anti-septic cream and gave me some medecine, pain killers i guessed. She seemed to know what she was doing, better than going to a doctor if it meant it was free and she wasn't going- "Who gave you get these" My chain of thoughts are interrupted by her words. "I got myself banged up by a....raccoon?" A raccoon? A RACCOON? Thats the best I could come up with? Telling a girl that i got banged up by a raccoon? She laughs at my answer. It's not a soft melodic sound like i expected but a burst of laughter. She snorts and smirks at me. "Damn, a raccoon huh? Wait,does that mean your're pregnant now?Plus,what? did it tackle you to the ground with its little toe beans? What were you even fighting over, who gets the last thrown out doughnuts from the dumpster, oh, or, did she kick you out of the house instead? You're lovely raccoon wife." She laughs out, barely able to form the sentence without controlling her laughter. I roll my eyes but I cant help smile, I knew very little about this girl but i did know 4 things, 1. She was a terrible liar, introducing herself under a fake name when her name was written under every single one of her drawings, 'y/n' I liked that name, it sounded different yet familiar on my tongue. 2.She might have just saved my life 3. She had a very good taste in candy and 4. we are about to become very, very, very good friends, something I hadn't had in a while. Tell me in the comments if you want to be tagged in the next parts, plus im open to supportive constructive criticism so let me know how i can improve =) taglist: @anarchiii @starlightazriel @velarisdusk @siriuslystyle1989 @scorpioriesling

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

AITA for editing my sister’s college essay?

[☀️🛟🎓 to find it later]

I (22f) have a younger sister (17f) applying to college this fall. Her english class recently gave an assignment that was essentially “write your common app”. For context, I am known for editing college application essays, I have done so for several family friends, and I don’t pull punches. As such, I asked if I could help edit her essay, and she agreed.

It was a great essay!! I helped her out with some smaller grammatical things and to tighten up sentences, and she submitted the class assignment.

Here’s where I may be the asshole. Later that night I kept rereading the essay, and I noticed a few issues in the middle portion. I wound up heavily editing the essay on my own document to make the emotions came across clearer and to tie in some key metaphors.

The next day, I wound up asking if I should share this document with her, and she ended up agreeing. I tried to give her an out because I could tell she was a bit annoyed, but she insisted that I share it now that I brought it up. Immediately after I shared it she called me crying, saying that she felt as though I had steamrolled over her work. She was sad because she liked it, and angry that I butted in. To be frank, I did inject too much of my own voice into this rewritten essay.

My sister has admitted to feeling very pressured when compared to me, as I achieved a lot academically and have a steady career. My parents and I have tried to reassure her that she is not expected to emulate me, but no matter how many times we say it, she won’t internalize that I am NOT a bar she needs to measure up to. She doesn’t seem to realize that I struggled and failed so many times in so many ways b/c she didn’t actually see it; she was too young at the time.

I want her to grow beyond what I could achieve, and I want her to be confident in herself. She’s incredibly smart, but she thinks I’m smarter because we have different strengths and she devalues her own.

I feel guilty because it was not my intention to “lord over her” by writing her essay “better”; our writing styles are different, but her essay came across as dry and I wanted to give an example of how she could inject more emotion into the turning point, which is arguably the most important part of a college essay. However, I fear she took it badly, and I should have been more careful given how she views me.

I really don’t want her to make the same mistakes I did with my college applications, and I know that getting into college has become incredibly difficult post-pandemic. Objectively, some of her test scores are below where mine were, and her extracurriculars, while good, are slightly “less” than what her peers are doing (our high school is extremely competitive) so I want to ensure her essays are as polished and punchy as possible to give her the best shot at getting into the colleges she wants. We’re not hiring any college application tutors, so I’m the only major mentor she has for this, since our parents did not attend college in the US.

My sister and I def talked it out and we both apologized to each other, so we’re all good. I admitted to being too pushy, she admitted to not handling criticism well and putting me on a pedestal, and we both agreed to handle essay help differently in the future.

AITA here? On the one hand, I was harsh in my delivery and should have given her more opportunity to edit using her voice instead of forcibly tossing mine into the mix. One the other hand, college apps are getting tougher and tougher and she needs as much help as she can get (not a dig at her intelligence, everyone needs help these days). Though sis and I worked it out, I’m curious to know what the general opinion is.

[hyperref-lex-ia]

lots of common reactions i get as a mute person

all the following are peoples reaction when they assume i am deaf, the most common assumption

- flustered and lifts hands to try and sign and then lowers them when they realize they dont know ASL

- flustered and starts to sputter and talk before settling on mouthing things at me

- mouths “can you lip read”

- talks really loud at me (which wouldnt do much if i was deaf so idk)

- goes to find something to write on

- sometimes if i type on my phone in my notes when i need to say something other than yes or no people will go to literally take my phone from me to type back instead of literally anything else

- signs some of the more common sign, i get thank you a lot (especially in customer service situations, which is where most of these happen)

- if it is someone on the street saying something and they assume im deaf when i sign at them they usually just disregard me which is actually really nice

these next ones are when people dont assume im deaf, which is rarer

- talks to me normal

- talks to me like im dumb

heres a few nice incidents

- guy asked me if i was mute in spanish and i nodded and he asked if i knew spanish and i was like not really lol (live in a heavily hispanic area so i picked up on enough to understand) and he switches to english and shares about a talk he had gone to recently about mutism

- girl working at sonic assumed i was deaf and ran inside just to grab her phone to help me which i thought was really sweet so i just didnt correct her

- just today i was using the self checkout at a gas station and the guy behind the register sees me getting frustrated with the card reader and slides over a piece of receipt paper that says “tap works better” and i am like “i dont have tap” and i decide to just cancel the self checkout and move to him cause hes got good vibes and he holds the bag up and raises an eyebrow allowing me to have a choice in it which i dont often get. when i am leaving he signs “have a good day” super slow and obviously practiced a lot, and the fact that he obviously learned that just in case this happened made me really happy

- every time someone has happened to know ASL in public, its always surprising how many hearing/verbal people know ASL, almost always because they are CODA

- the enthusiastic gay man at my eye doctor who got so excited when he saw i signed even though he doesnt know it, because he thought it was so cool

- every person who goes “oh you speak ASL” and then immediately thinks about thay sentence and kind of 404 errors out as they realize you cant speak ASL

- the tiny middle aged mexican woman who has worked the store at my school the entire time ive been going there who knows me because i always go there for caffeine and snacks, and manages to always communicate with me despite a couple language barriers and will often berate me if i dont get water with my caffeine or if i dont get food, and who also wishes me happy holiday for every holiday that comes around, and was also very visibly worried when i had to rely on a cane for a few months

- my painting professor who always takes so much pressure off because hes so blunt, when i came in with a cane everyone danced around asking about it and he walks in and goes “what the hell happened to you??”, the most recent thing that made me laugh is we were talking and i was using TTS and as we are walking into the studios he goes “im gonna go talk with Ronnie, give your thumbs a break” and then we both started laughing

the worst interaction ive had

- had one of my professors numbers which happens sometimes because it makes life easier and she texted me out of the blue saying she “had a dream she was at my wedding and i spoke my vows” with heart emojis and i did not know this woman at all and i was like…what the fuck…not only is that unprofessional but also ableist

lastly shout out to my friends who translate for me purely off lip reading who dont know ASL

[cheeserobin]

Suren Darga deserved better 2.0

clarification: this post is resubmitted because I had already touched this same topic in Spanish, everything is original.

WARNING: English is not my first language, I am sorry for any spelling mistakes that may appear below.

Any DC fan or Damian fan knows the joke about DC forgetting their friends, which is sadly funny. Luckily that's what we ( the fandom ) are here for, to not let characters with potential be forgotten thanks to evil editors.

Now what happened to Suren Darga?. I'm not kidding when I say that the kid seems to have been left in a giant void for everyone after his last appearance, because his wiki the only thing it says about him is this:

"Suren Darga is the son of Den Darga and the prince of the Lu'un Darga."

And I'm not exaggerating

And they also put him as “Supervillain”, ok.

Suren was forgotten and I have a feeling that wasn't the idea mainly, not only because he has a whole interesting past that should have been seen but also his team, trio or whatever he may have had with Maya and Damian looked so…real. They were going to be even if it was allies and great friends.

Plus after his end of the world disaster, showing his very fucked up daddy issues and receiving possibly the most painful punch in the face of his life.

He was to have a long, but sincere arc of redemption.

And let's not forget that Suren at the time helped Damian's development as much as Damian helped Suren's development. He and Maya changed for the better thanks to the fifth Robin in that same comic.

Maya was going to follow her father's path of blood, having Damian as her first victim as revenge. Luckily for both of them, Damian proved that he changed and that she could do it too, preventing her from getting her hands dirty like her father and becoming his older sister.

And I think Suren goes one step further. Maya herself says: “Man, you guys have so much in common”.

Suren was going to do the end of the world to give honor to his family, but also for the infinite and pure love of a child that he had for his father, but Robin knowing that feeling of hunger for affection and family understanding stopped him making him see that there are simply shitty parents who do more harm than good. That he knew what that was like and that he should let go of that toxic environment before he became something worse. They were so alike that Robin just couldn't leave him alone.

In short, I apply the “AMIGA DATE CUENTA” (FRIEND BE AWARE).

And I think for Damian's development it felt good for him to help these characters who were in a dark place like he once was to realize that he really became a better person who wanted to help others unconditionally. that that R of redemption in his chest was for something and worth his effort.

But this does not end happily for Suren. We never knew if he really moved away from the shadow of his family and to forge his own story or if he is still in contact with his only friends until now and if we go further, is he still alive? The worst part of this is that the writers/publishers would have no excuse to leave him behind saying “He's not an interesting character” since his origin story, coming back from the dead which could have caused him another trauma and conflict and his VERY GENIUS connection with magic do make him interesting, VERY interesting.

But DC doesn't agree with that, so the last we have of this kid is this panel of him smiling going on a new adventure, an adventure we never saw come to light.

“It NEVER ends” how funny.

[enjoythesilentworld]

I can’t believe I almost missed the chance to ask you to write smth. That’s what I get for having a busy tumblr dash. Anyway. “Join me” as a prompt pls? 💜

hello my darling Lia. you know i'd write anything you asked me to. for today, here's a (not) little ficlet in which Simon neglects to read the fine print and somehow it actually turns out really well for him.

💜enjoy xx

Alone in a foreign country, Simon must find a stranger to join him on the romantic couples food tour he’s accidentally booked. (a 2.3k strangers to lovers, fake dating, speed-run of an AU) if you see this again for day 2 of simon's month dont worry bout it

Simon curses under his breath as the confirmation email comes in.

So, he’d booked the food tour a little quickly, possibly without reading all the fine print. He can’t even blame a language barrier because he’s in Spain and, thanks to his mamá, his Spanish is really better than his English.

The solo-travel thing had been a bit of a last-minute decision. Spurred by the post university graduation crisis of, ‘Oh Fuck What Am I Doing With My Life?’ whichled twenty-somethings around the globe to grab a backpack and buy a one-way plane ticket. Simon’s decision was also encouraged by the fact that he’d woken up one day and realized he was in a toxic relationship, quickly packing his bags and saying Hejdå to a two-year relationship. He’s only about three weeks into the whole self-discovery shtick, but it seems to be going well so far. He enjoys the independence of it all. Not that he’s not independent at home — in fact, he’s been a little bit too much of an adult since he was 10 — but more so that he doesn’t have to worry about anyone else. Simon goes to museums when he wants to, stays for as little or as much time as he wants. He eats when he wants, goes to shows he likes, and doesn’t spend every second of every day worrying about everyone else. (Of course, he’s called his mama and sister nearly every day since he left, but he’s working on it.) He also, apparently, incorrectly books guided food tours that are actually romantic couples excursions. 

Glancing around the nearly empty breakfast room at his hostel, he chews on his options. One is to show up to this tour alone and look like a dumb tourist. Two is to find someone willing to go on it with him.

There’s a pair of British girls in the corner, giggling over their plates of breakfast. Simon recognizes them from the stand-up comedy show the hostel had organized the night before; they’d been attached at the hip the whole night. Slim chance of separating them. Crowding around the cereal bar is a group of American guys who all look like fraternity brothers. If Simon remembers correctly, he’d overheard some vile words from them in the bar last night, and so he’s is not too keen on participating in any sort of tour with any of them, romantic or not.

The only other person in the room is sitting a few seats down at the communal table: a very good-looking man with light auburn hair and high cheek bones. His long fingers, nails painted a deep purple, hold up a book with one hand and gingerly lift a coffee cup to his lips with the other. He’s dressed quite casually, in an un-done button up over a tank-top and baggy trousers, but somehow makes it look refined. Simon noticed him yesterday afternoon in the hostel café, noticed the way the man’s eyes tracked Simon from across the room.

His pretty brown eyes are no longer locked on the pages of the book, but have found Simon again and caught him staring. Simon forces himself to hold his ground and smiles, glancing down at the book title. It’s by a Swedish author, he realizes, and a gay Swedish author at that.

Gesturing with his head, Simon asks, “Is it good?”

The pretty man places his coffee cup down clumsily. “Yeah, it’s one of my favorites.”

“I hope I’m not interrupting.”

“I’ve read it a million times,” he says, closing the book. “I’m Wille.” 

The light blush on his cheeks is endearing.

“Simon.”

Wille smiles softly and nods, “Trevligt.”

He’s polite and looks suspiciously rich to be in this hostel, but his eyes are kind and has a rainbow pin on his tote bag so, before Wille can say anything else, Simon slides one chair closer.

“Are you doing anything today, Wille?”

Wille moves to the chair across from Simon. “Nope.”

Simon props his head on both his hands and gazes at this beautiful stranger, wondering why he didn’t speak to him the day before. “Would you like to join me on a romantic food tour around Barcelona?”

Wille quirks an eyebrow, then mirrors Simon’s position. “I would love to.”

The tour doesn’t begin for a few hours, so they sit and chat while the breakfast room fills up around them. Wille laughs when Simon explains how he’s gotten himself into this situation, and the sound sets little sparks bursting in Simon’s chest. What luck he’s had this morning.

Simon learns that Wille is also at the beginning of a self-discovery trip, running away from a family legacy and a desk job he desperately did not want. He also learns that Wille is incredibly funny and quite flirty, though whenever Simon starts flirting back he becomes incredibly flustered. His stare, though, is the thing that gets Simon the most. Wille looks at him so intently, gaze flitting between Simon’s eyes and his mouth, listening to every word and seemingly staring directly into Simon’s soul. It would be troubling if he wasn’t so goddamn beautiful.

The conversation flows so easily between them that Simon, so wrapped up in Wille’s laugh and crooked teeth, almost forgets they have somewhere to be.

They walk quickly through the streets of Barcelona together, heading towards the café at which they’re meant to meet the rest of their tour group. Wille’s fingers brush against Simon’s a few times, though his voice never falters, so Simon isn’t sure if it’s just him that feels the jolt of electricity each time.

“You said this is a romantic food tour?” Wille asks, reaching out to pull Simon out of the way of a passing cart.

The city is bustling with life around them, the sun shining hot between the buildings, people hanging off balconies, chatting with neighbors or stringing up laundry to dry. It’s absolutely beautiful, and somehow it seems a bit more colorful than it had the day before.

“Yes.”

“Is it going to be obvious that you and I just met?” he says, letting Simon go ahead of him to squeeze through the crowd, staying close, with a hand hovering over Simon’s lower back.

“Well,” Simon muses, “we could make it a bit of a game. If you’re down.”

Looking over his shoulder, he sees Wille’s eyes light up with mischief. “I’m down. What kind of game?”

Simon chuckles and shrugs, checking his phone to make sure they’re still headed in the right direction. “We could pretend to be a couple. You know, really put on a show.”

“That sounds very, very fun, Simon.”

For the last ten or so minutes of their walk, they establish some basic rules. They’ll hold hands and gaze lovingly in each other’s eyes and ramble to anyone who asks about their beautiful love story. The goal is to one-up every other couple there by acting sickeningly in love. By the time they make it to the café, only a few minutes late, they’re holding onto each other and cackling at the increasingly ridiculous ‘meet-cute’ ideas they’ve come up with.

There are three other couples in the tour: one looks like a very young newly-wed couple, another is a pair of middle-aged ladies, and the third is a pretentious-looking, older couple who already look fed up with everyone else. As the tour-guide starts on their spiel, Wille wraps a tender arm around Simon, pulling him close and whispering jokes into his ear, somehow making them look more like a couple than even the newly-weds.

They sit down to start, and Wille lets Simon order for them off the selected menu. They feed each other bites of tomato toast and gently wipe crumbs from each other’s cheeks, all the while giggling to each other and only half-listening to the explanations of the food. It also seems they’ve unintentionally started a competition with the other young couple of who-can-look-more-in-love. When Wille hands Simon a napkin before he can even ask to wipe up his splashed juice, the man of the other couple tries to lovingly whisper something in his wife’s ear but gets brushed off as she’s too busy listening intently to the tour guide. When Simon holds out a forkful of potato omelette for Wille, the man tries to do the same, but his wife shakes her head, smiling, and fondly pats his cheek then turns back to her own plate.

As they move through the next few stops — a restaurant, a food cart, and an open-air market — he and Wille fall even further into their ‘game’. There’s plenty of very intentional touches and exchanged loving glances, but Wille also asks Simon about himself. About his family and his dreams and where he’s going next. Simon learns even more about Wille’s obsession with frogs and his love for lakes and his passion for writing. The rest of the tour group fades away, and things between them start to feel a little less like a game and a little more real. The prolonged eye contact becomes less playful and more loaded. The lingering touches become less out of competition and more out of some deep urge. Simon’s eyes flick more often down to Wille’s lips, watching him lick cream off his fingers or clean gazpacho off his spoon.

Maybe it’s the wine, but as they head to their last stop of the day, hand in hand, trailing behind the group, Simon finds himself hoping Wille isn’t going anywhere anytime soon. He’d made a few friends over the past few weeks, but it always seemed to work out that when he was having a great time, the person would be leaving the very next day, heading off to some new country or heading back home.

Wille grins over at him and points out a pretty sculpture, mumbling something smart about the artist and looking absolutely ethereal in the light of the early evening with his flushed cheeks and sparkling eyes. Maybe it isn’t just the wine.

Their final destination is small tapas place on the beach. Simon and Wille have given up any pretense of listening to the tour guide or of playing their little game. Instead, they sit close at their table and chat about their favorite memories growing up and tell embarrassing stories. Simon, as he’s done at every place, translates every bit of Spanish on the menu and giggles helplessly as he corrects Wille’s pronunciation. They share a plate of pulpo and split a liter of sangria and it’s one of the most perfect days Simon’s ever experienced.

“I’m really glad I misread that website,” Simon says, fiddling with his fingers. When he glances up, he finds Wille grinning at him. He takes Simon’s hand.

“Me too.”

After the tour concludes and their guide bids they all farewell, their group mostly scatters. But, Wille and Simon stay at their table, finishing off their pitcher and becoming increasingly rowdy with their jokes. After a few annoyed looks from their waiter, they collect their things and stumble down to the beach. Simon jumps onto Wille’s back, laughing loudly and savoring the feeling of Wille’s strong hands wrapped securely around his legs. Wille wades out into the shallow water of the beach, and Simon yelps when he pretends to nearly drop them both into the cool water.

Eventually, Wille lets him down but takes his hand instead, and they walk down the sand, talking about the food tour and realizing that they maybe didn’t pay attention at all.

There’s a warm buzz in Simon’s body, making him giddy and calm all at once. When they make it to a small concrete pier, Wille pulls him out to the edge of it and they stand, arms wrapped around each other, staring out at the Mediterranean.

Simon sigh happily. “Beautiful.”

“Yeah. Very,” Wille says breathlessly, and Simon looks up to see Wille staring down at him. He smacks Wille’s chest playfully.

“You’re an idiot, Wille.”

Wille laughs, “I’m being serious!”

“Sure,” Simon hums, turning back to the water, biting back a smile.

“Hey.” He turns back again and Wille’s face has sobered, and he’s now gazing down at Simon with that same intense stare. “You are beautiful, Simon. You’re also funny and kind and— I had a really, really great time today.”

He squirms slightly at the force of the words, the conviction in Wille’s tone, but can’t help but let his eyes flicker down to Wille’s lips. He’s so close and looks so pretty in the cool lighting of the twilight evening and Simon’s never thought it could be possible to fall for someone like this, this hard, in one day.

“Me, too,” Simon whispers. Then, “Wille?”

“Yes?”

“Can I—”

Wille nods, gasping, “Yes,” before Simon can even finish his sentence and then they’re both rushing forward.

Finally, after thinking about it nearly all day, Wille’s lips connect with his. He tastes like fruity wine and olives and something so Wille, and Simon melts into his arms, coming up onto his tiptoes to press further into him. Wille’s hair is soft under his fingertips and though they’ve basically been touching all day, this is different and overwhelming and everything.

When they break apart, giggling into each other, the lights have come on along the paved pathway by the beach.

“Maybe we should head back?” Wille suggests, looking just as much like he doesn’t want to head back as Simon feels. But, it’s getting late and he’s also starting to feel tired from all the wine and walking, so Simon nods and takes Wille’s hand again.

They trail slowly back through the streets, pausing occasionally to exchange a quick kiss, or to slip into an alcove and exchange a slightly longer one. By the time they make it back to their building, Simon’s limbs feel syrupy with sleep and his chest feels warm with the events of the day.

Two steps up the stairs to the front door of the hostel, Simon stops and turns.

“Where will you be tomorrow?” he asks, looking down at Wille.

Wille smiles. “Wherever you are.”

[unabashedly-so]

💙💜🩷 SDV Bachelor HC 🩷💜💙

How much has each bachelor explored their bisexuality?

Content warning: compulsive heteronormativity, loss of family, grief, risky sexual behavior mention, drinking mention. SFW.

✨The Bachelors✨

Elliott

look me in the eye and just try to tell me this man doesn't already know. i dare you i fuckin' dare you i WANT YOU TO

that line on the 10 heart boat scene about not knowing he could feel that way about another man is bullshit and that is a piece of canon I toss into the sea.

now please understand the majority of this is colored by my very vivid hc of Elliott's upbringing and young adult life, but you're literally reading a hc post that is labeled hc so you bought the ticket now board the train. choo choo mfs.

the low hanging fruit is that this is a man that canonically spends hours on hair care, dresses like that, talks like that, etc. etc.. Yes, you can be cishet etc. and do that, sure.

and don't get me wrong, it's valid that Elliott could just Be Like That. (I love and respect the hell out of that incorrect opinion)

but this man is penny-romance novel cover coded. just. think about that. think about this active CHOICE he is making.

ffs he lives on a BEACH and dresses in a THREE-PIECE SUIT with his PERFECTLY COIFFED hair that he has to spend HOURS on because that's what happens when you LIVE. ON. A. BEACH.

i am going to have an aneurysm about this man's life choices rn

he's arguably pretty self-secure*, which tracks because you don't get to be his age and not have some better understanding of yourself. As others have pointed out, there's no real ""growth"" in Elliott's arc because boy came whole because HE BEEN KNEW HE BEEN THROUGH THIS ALREADY. He's secure in his identity because he's worked it out already! He's moved on! focusing on his career and legacy now that he knows who is he and who he's not!!

*dont make me drag out the receipts his part is already long enough just trust me ok

now meet Elliott in his early 20's and wow, buddy, you are trying way too hard I promise you things are gonna be okay sweetheart

speaking of his early 20's, it's hc to me that he did, uhhhh, so much exploring. of everything. and everyone in the English and Theater department during university.

King Slut, long may he reign. 🙏

just. someone who's not as self-secure and self-aware would not be able to own the aesthetic PLUS the temperament we see with Elliott, who really only gets flustered with the intimate interpersonal stuff because he's a romantic and it's meaningful. He's confident in who he is and the kind of person he wants to be, and you don't get to that point in life without having done a lot of experimenting and soul-searching.

I could write a whole fucking meta on this boy, but for today: 9/10 he knows it, owns it, enjoys it, but he's got more interesting things going on in his opinion than to make one of his core personality traits just Gay/Queer/Bi/Pan, etc. He has an AESTHETIC and BI BY YOBA he's sticking to it.

also he can walk in heels better than you.

Harvey

Hmm, he's actually hard to get a read on for me. There's a few others in the fandom who might have a better take than me, but here's what I can offer.

first let's grant him that he's older. With age comes wisdom, experience, etc. the older bachelor/ettes are just going to be at an advantage vs the younger ones.

also... like 8 years in college. I cannot be swayed away from this as a crucial part of his journey.

twinkle TWINK-le little snack.

it just feels like one of those things he felt happening in high school and might have gotten bullied for it because everyone Knew but he couldn't/wouldn't just own it.

but then in college he finally realized that owning it would give him the power, so he did. kind of. very quietly.

he probably had a boyfriend or two in undergrad. They were definitely the kind to hold hands from the coffee shop to the library. you know the ones, we've all seen 'em. <3

and isn't he just so lucky that he can get butterflies from girls too?

a blessing and a burden for this man with anxiety because, oh no, now everyone's cute.

by the time he gets to Pelican town, his last relationship kind of ended on a sour note, so he's a little discouraged from pursuing romantic relationships, hence why he's a bit guarded and shy and nervous.

he gets a 8/10, he's just quiet about it because who's business is it but his own? also, like, he's literally the doctor for everyone. He's gotta keep some confidentiality in this small town.

Sebastian

while he doesn't show it, I'd say Sebastian is actually quite comfortable with being bi.

I mean like as comfortable as he can be around people in general.

He doesn't bring it up, and doesn't really let anyone know either, but again that's just kind of his MO, regardless of gender.

now when he's Together with someone, well that's a different story. we stan possessive Sebastian in this house 🫡

he probably wouldn't bring it up with the gang unless someone else brought it up first. 🤷‍♀️

would probably give some semi-defensive response of "yeah, what of it??" to his friends, but a low hearts farmer might get a coldly aggro "why are you asking? That's none of your business."

he and Maru Know about each other but keep those conversations private. hashtag just sibling things ig

has definitely kissed guys at concerts before. Lots of people can also provide a feeling of anonymity, letting him get lost in the crowd and not have to worry so much. 10/10

Shane

closeted sportsballer. As a former Closeted Sportsballer, I can see this going two ways.

First option: you DO NOT explore that unless you want things to get real weird REAL FAST.

Like, I'm not even talking locker room nonsense, let's be mature here. Even if you do not like your teammates, you WILL still share a Sports Bond with them built on a shared passion, a common goal, and lots of comiseration.

So if you're already on iffy social standing, which I'm just gonna go out on a limb and say Shane might have had... you're gonna have a bad time.

Then after his gridball career ended, it may have already been baked in that that was Dangerous. OR he could have just been so far down the path of self-loathing that he stopped looking at people romantically.

OR OR--part of his self-loathing actually opened him up to exploring his sexuality......

......which is a very nice way of saying he took part in a lot of risky sexual encounters. 😮‍💨 (with all genders! One night stands do not discriminate!)

so if there were any feelings involved, it was... not good or conducive to self-understanding. Probably made things worse.

cue the drinking! the depression! all the risky behaviors!

ALTERNATIVELY... Option two: he does explore Feelings For Dudes and it could have played into his sportsball exit. 🤔

Hi. Let me just reiterate personal experience here: LEAVING A TEAM CAN REALLY FUCK YOU UP depending on your life outside the sport. Sports teams are a social support group, like, I really hate the phrase "like family"... but literally structurally so similar. If you already don't have a strong family life outside of the sport (like Shane has admitted to, let's fuckin goooooo), AND being on a team is an overall positive thing in your life??

Leaving your team (willingly or unwillingly) takes away that social support. And not just the social/emotional support, but the structure to your life, the routine, the feeling of belonging, the PURPOSE!!!

gee, wonder what kind of feelings those can bring about in a person. like a sad chicken man.

are we seeing a trend here???????

Ok this definitely got more into a sportsball psychological study, but what I'm saying is my money's on gridball heavily influencing his trajectory but since he DIDN'T have the family or social supports outside of it, he crashed and burned afterwards. Contrast with Alex below who DID have social supports and--

focus, bisexuality.

Personally, I like the idea that Shane's been with dudes, but it's never been anything emotionally healthy (except maybe one pre-gridball-exodus which could have prompted the leave......🤔👀) or fulfilling.

5/10, would be 6 but he got -1 because it was driven by self-loathing. >:(

somebody come show him some mlm love!!!

Sam

baby boy. sweet baby boy.

the younger bachelor/ettes are at a bit of a disadvantage because they're in the time of their life where they would be exploring their sexualities in a conducive environment. Not to say the valley isn't but there's, uh, only 11 other singletons there and they all know each other sooooo...

that said, due to Kent's military career, it's likely Sam has had time living outside of Pelican Town, so may be a bit farther ahead than, say, Sebastian who's lived there his whole life.

speaking of Kent, it's canon that Daddy has been in and out of his life and tbf I don't remember exactly how Sam feels about that but

I'm JUST SAYIN'. baby boy gets a whiff of attention from some buff dude who wants to make him his baby girl?? melting.

you know the trope of how girls with absent fathers sometimes overcorrect for that and seek out male attention like crazy? well, who says boys are any different??

what I'm getting at is this: you're trying to tell me Sam has NEVER had a raging crush on Alex?????

I mean fr it was probably like. Alex told him "good choice" on his ice cream flavor once and it was all downhill from there.

plus I'm hoping he's got a solid enough friendship with Sebastian (and Abigail) that they could talk about these things without it getting weird.

also, singer/lead guitarist in a band?? come on, too easy.

anyway 5/10, once again a bit oblivious until he gets smacked in the face. Definitely a flavor of "haha no homo bro! :):) ...... unless...?? 👀"

Alex

closeted sportsballer, round 2 EXCEPT

he canonically admits he crushes real easy. so just statistically speaking, there's an equal likelihood that he's crushed on the male singletons of the valley, too. Which totally doesn't even take into consideration his gridballer time, which I'll get to in a second.

he also admits his crushes don't usually last very long. part of that probably has to do with a lot with attachment issues (seriously he should be more messed up than he is), but if gridball is just SDV American Football, there's probably a good deal of internalized homophobia Alex has had to either work through or not work through. hence why his not het crushes might not last long.

but confusing and conflicting as they may be, THEY'RE STILL THERE. just. probably presenting more like a "wow I'm really noticing this person a lot lately huh. I mean I guess they look pretty good and seem kind of cool..." he's completely and utterly oblivious to so much, his own feelings included.

so what I'm saying is there was a brief window of time where Alex unknowingly had a crush on Sam and, listen, under the right circumstances Sam/Alex (Smalex?) could have been canonized--don'T BOO ME, I'm RIGHT

as for gridball, compulsive heteronormativity is absolutely rampant so there's no way he could have felt comfortable exploring his interest in other gender(s). ESPECIALLY in his case where he's still kind of on the outside, trying to model himself to fit a certain kind of mold. Just, no chance, absolutely none.

and really, Idk, between him and Haley I'm starting to get real compulsive heteronormativity vibes now... not that they're mad about it, but they were kinda forced into those roles and, well, the shoes KIND OF fit I GUESS...

you might say it was ... they're kind of sh... shoeho--shoehorn--*shot*

Anyway, boy's represso. 2/10, if you called him bi he'd say wait why are you leaving , what did you want to tell me???