#but really I love this parallel or at least the idea i make of it lol
Text
to hell with it
pairing jung wooyoung x f!reader
word count 5k
genres angst﹒smut﹒teeniest bit of fluff here and there
warnings 18+ MINORS DO NOT INTERACT, mature language, all lowercase bc she was supposed to be short and vibey and… that just did not happen, mentions and use of weed, very strict parents, lowkey fuckboy wooyoung lol, lots of kissing, marking, scratching, wooyoung has a fascination with reader’s tits lol, nipple play, no real foreplay, unprotected sex, cowgirl and missionary style, dacryphilia, exhibitionism kinda, quite a few references to religious-ish themes, unrequited love in a sense? i got carried away im so sorry
summary you could draw several heaven-hell parallels from this moment in time, from the way wooyoung buries himself inside of you, and you always return to the idea that he’s straight from hell.
more ok… like i said… i got carried away oopsie 😝 this was a request from my lovely wife of 20+ years @juyofans <3 i’m sorry if i strayed too far from the original idea,,, it just happened ok 🙇 also a huge thank u to @bro-atz for betaing for me i LOVE U SO MUCH!! that’s all lets keep this note short and sweet :P reblog if u enjoyed!
@atzhouse
“shit.”
the curse slips from your mouth so naturally upon the discovery that your stash is completely finished. you rummage through the drawer one more time in case you might’ve missed something, but alas, you’ve run into the worst possible scenario. no more weed.
it’s not like you were dependent on it. but it was the end of a long week and it happened to be one of those days. an edible, a long rip from your bong, or a hit from a blunt wrapped with your pretty pink rolling paper sounded like fucking heaven right about now.
you still lived at home, though, and your parents had no clue that you dabbled with marijuana, so you had to keep everything hidden in your room. unfortunately, it was just too expensive to get your own place in this day and age. and despite the fear of getting caught deeply instilled in you, you were extremely desperate.
and well, desperate times called for desperate measures…
“hey, wooyoung…” you speak into the receiver.
your relationship with the guy was complicated. it had nothing to do with him, and everything to do with you. he’d been your plug for a couple years now, and his pretty face made it really hard not to develop a crush. every time you bought from him, you always tried to get a lot at once so you could space out how often you saw him to make things easier on your heart.
the two of you went to high school together, and the first time you reached out in regards to your secret habit was awkward. to say the least. all of your friends had purchased something from him at least once or twice, so they assured you that he was the real deal. but you had only ever mooched off of them and didn’t have the faintest idea what you were supposed to say or do. (what with having dictators for parents and the lot.)
you remember sending him a dm in the most cryptic way possible. he laughed it off, thinking about how cute it was that you didn’t know what you were getting yourself into. but, like every other occasion in which you’d spoken to him, he had a girlfriend at the time. the first time it was haeun, then there was jisu, and it was kind of hard to keep up with the names after that. his patience was endearing, though, and it always left you wanting more out of your conversations. (which is, understandably, what attracted you to the guy.)
he was definitely not a one-partner, commitment type of guy, and that’s all you could ever want out of someone. you thought keeping distance to halt any feelings from growing was the smartest decision. if you didn’t get close to him, it would help squash whatever flame burned beneath your chest.
but now it was time for that little crush to unearth itself, as it does whenever you see him.
“hey, y/n, what’s up?” you can hear the smile in his voice, the one that has your insides melting and your panties nearly dropping to the floor in an instant. it’s almost cocky, like he was expecting your call. and he probably was, all things considered.
“um…“ you stop yourself, squeezing your eyes shut and biting your lip, tilting your head back. “are you free to do a drop right now?”
the digital clock on your nightstand read 9:28 PM and your parents wouldn’t be home for another hour or so, having left for the movies a little over an hour ago. (that was the only reason why you were even thinking of pulling something as idiotic as this.)
not even were you just not allowed to have boys over. you weren’t allowed to have people over period, at least not if your parents were out. in spite of being a grown adult, they still managed to enforce strict rules and curfews on you. you were breaking so many by making this fucking phone call.
Do Not Think About Talking To Boys Under Our Roof.
“yeah, actually. i have to do another in the area so that works out perfectly. i can be there in ten.” he answers and that stupid smile pops into your head again.
Absolutely No Strangers Allowed In The House Without Us Present.
“okay cool— wait, you remember my address?” your brow scrunch together, the confusion boiling up inside of you. he snorts, some shifting audible in the background.
No Alcohol Unless We Are Present, Absolutely No Drugs Allowed.
“yeah? why wouldn’t i?” he asks so nonchalantly, you almost miss it. “i’ll be there soon, babe.”
he ends the call before you can even say anything, still holding your phone to your ear. your jaw hangs open and heat begins to bloom behind your cheeks. this was exactly why you were avoiding him as long as possible. jung wooyoung was a natural flirt, and you were very delusional.
this was fine, right? all you had to do was exchange the goods and money, then send him on his way. it would be like nothing ever happened, like no one was ever here. your parents would be none the wiser and you could finally relax. it would be just like when you were sneaking around in high school, having him drop when you didn’t have a car—
fuck.
you could’ve just met him somewhere instead, huh? you didn’t have the issue of being car-less anymore. you could’ve told your parents you were running out to grab some things from the store and hid it in your bags in case they were home before you. could’ve done literally anything else except act this irrational.
This Is An Honest and Trustworthy Household — No Lying Will Be Tolerated.
maybe, subconsciously, you’ve been wanting to see him in this setting again. there was a thrill in breaking your parents rules. you supposed something special, something exciting sparked under your skin all those times you snuck into the backyard to meet with wooyoung through the side gate. but right now, you’re pacing inside your bedroom. this wasn’t the time to get poetic and reminisce about being a schoolgirl with a crush.
you were bulldozing through just about everything on your parents’ list of Do Nots and you feel like you should be more anxious about it. for some reason you’re less afraid of pissing them off. you’re entirely too concerned with looking good for wooyoung, and you don’t even hear the shrill sound of your phone ringing.
wooyoung’s contact lights up the screen, sending all sorts of panic signals to your brain. you severely underestimated how long ten minutes was, and also how long you’d been standing in front of the mirror gawking at yourself like a damn fish out of water. this was embarrassing. you were better than this, god, you were so much better than to lose yourself like this over a man. but jung wooyoung somehow made all rhyme and reason escape you like he was some sexy version of the pied piper.
before you realize it, your feet have carried you down the stairs and to the front door. on the other side stand wooyoung, his backpack slung over his shoulder. he’s dressed in a red zip up hoodies and some baggy jeans. his hair is longer than when you last saw him, long enough to have some of the strands tucked loosely behind his ears. you think you’re entranced by his visuals alone, and then he opens his mouth.
”told ya i remembered.” his words drip with that charisma that sucks you in further, deeper, into the chasm you kept trying to avoid.
”uh— c-come in,” you usher him into your house and up the stairs into your room, just in case. “my parents aren’t home, but i don’t know if my neighbors are watching or something. and just in case they get back earlier, it’s easier to hide you in here than anywhere else.”
wooyoung nods with a snort, eyes wandering around the bedroom you’ve had since you were two years old. he’s never been inside of your house before, much less inside of your room. it’s very you; various posters littering the walls, makeup and skincare products cluttered around your vanity, comfy-looking sheets.
Definitely No Boys Allowed In Your Room.
“you know, y/n, i was pleasantly surprised when you called,” he shrugs off his bag, setting it on the foot of your bed, dragging his finger along the footboard. “i was starting to miss my favorite customer.”
just about everything but standing right here sounded ideal to you. if there were miraculously a sniper stationed on the roof of the house next to yours, you hoped you were in his line of sight and he would take you out. it was as if he knew. he knew exactly what his effect on you was, and that was absolutely perfect, now wasn’t it?
“your— huh?” you’re sure you sound stupid, especially so when he laughs, unzipping his backpack to take out what he was here for. the smell alone practically recalibrates your system and reboots you. wooyoung notices.
”we’ve never smoked together, have we?” he asks, pulling out the tube he was looking for. it’s about an eighth, which is less than what you usually buy from him, but you’re in no position to complain. you shake your head ‘no’ as he hands it to you, before pulling out another and doing the same thing. you raise an eyebrow at him.
”this is—“
”no, i know,” he purses his lips with a nod, tongue poking out of the corner of his mouth and swiping across the bottom one. “consider it a gift, for being so loyal to me all these years.”
you guffaw in disbelief. what the fuck?
”wooyoung, you can’t possibly—“
”just let me smoke you out this once. that’s all i ask in return,” he seats himself on the edge of your bed. “and we’ll even use my stuff. you can save yours for later. i’ll make it worth your while.”
you would be cutting it really close to the time your parents were supposed to be home. but he was so tempting. and you were so weak. so, so pitifully weak.
”okay…” you let yourself say. you let yourself divulge just this once. “but, remember—“
”yes yes, your parents. do you think this is my first rodeo?” he laughs, pulling out a little plastic baggie that appears to have pre-ground weed in it. almost like… he was anticipating this? when he reaches into his backpack for what you assume is wraps, you jump to grab your pink rolling paper. you’d been so excited to use it, you weren’t going to let this opportunity go to waste.
batting your lashes at him is the only way you know how to convince him, though it doesn’t really take much convincing. your rolling skills still weren’t the best, despite doing this as long as you have, so you watch in awe as wooyoung does it. his fingers move expertly, and you have to blink away the thoughts threatening to overthrow the sane ones that have been struggling to keep afloat.
wooyoung fishes for the lighter in his pocket, red like the color of his jacket. he lights the blunt and holds it carefully between his fingers. you think he’s going to take the first hit, but then he’s holding it to your lips, gesturing for you to do it. “ladies first.” he throws in with that obnoxiously attractive laugh of his. you hesitantly follow his lead, sitting beside him, then inhaling and filling your chest.
your exhale isn’t as graceful as you hoped it would be, a couple coughs coming out of you, but it was a strong hit. he rubs his free hand up and down your thigh to soothe you, hitting it himself. he’s definitely a lot more experienced than you, in what he does and how he does it, breathing it out into the atmosphere. your room is a little foggy now and you have half the mind to crack open a window, however, you’re hyper aware of his hand on your thigh. and you don’t want it to go away.
If Any Of These Rules Are Broken, You Risk Being Kicked Out.
it’s calm for a few minutes, just the two of you rotating the blunt in comforting silence, his hand still branding its place on your thigh. and then his thumb starts to move. it circles into your bare skin gently, kneading mindlessly. you almost let out a whine, but you catch yourself, concealing it as a cough instead.
“you like me, don’t you, y/n?” wooyoung asks, puffing out a thick white cloud and pouting. “that’s why you buy a lot from me at once. that’s why i sometimes only see you once a month.”
the question catches you so off guard, you almost grab the pink blunt by the spark. he sets it in your ashtray, conveniently placed on one of your bedposts. you stare at him blankly, because how fucking perceptive do you have to be to figure that out? your crush was probably a little more than obvious, sure, but the avoidant tendency you had couldn’t possibly be linked to that. not unless he truly knew you like the back of his hand.
he leans back onto his palms with a snicker, carding his fingers through his hair. the way he’s positioned allows you to glimpse at a bit more of his chest from the partially unzipped jacket. the only thing you see is that it’s bare, and your brain short circuits. it was already frying itself when he called you out, now there wasn’t a single functioning cell up there.
“i’m high like sixty percent of the time, i see everything. i know everything.” he answers your unspoken inquiry. and well, that may be true, but it’s not like you’re doing much to refute with the way you’re ogling at him. (you were a horny high, unfortunately.)
“what—“ you swallow, suddenly all too aware of how close you’re sitting, of how his grip on your thigh is a little more primal. “what if i said no? what then?”
“i’d think you were a liar,” he smiles, that fucking smile you can picture in your head even through a phone call. “and i don’t like being lied to.”
“so it’s a good thing i haven’t said no yet, right?” you breathe, voice entirely too stable for the situation. his hand rises higher on your thigh, the tip of his index finger brushing under your shorts. you glance down at it, eyes already heavy lidded as they observe the way it drags across your skin. fuck.
“mhm,” he hums, gauging your reaction to his touch. “it’s very good.”
you’re losing your patience the longer you sit there, tortured by wooyoung’s hand searing on your thigh. your heart seems to beat faster and you feel like you can tell with the rise and fall of your chest picking up in speed. his lips on yours is all that you want, all that you need, and under this spell (the intoxication swimming through your bloodstream), you’re willing to accept the consequences that may come with it.
a gasp escapes you when his nail scrapes along the side of your leg with the pressure of a feather. it’s overwhelming, to say the least. you want more and more and more, and then so much more until you can’t take it, but part of you is still insecure that he’ll leave you strung out on a clothesline if you indulge. you’re beyond thinking about the repercussions if you’re caught. you’re focused on the repercussions of being hurt if you give in.
but enough is enough.
placing your hand over his own, you slip it under your t-shirt where you’ve been braless this entire time. wooyoung’s eyes widen and you grab one of his hoodie strings, yanking him closer to you. your noses brush and your eyes meet, a silent ask for permission to finally play into what you’ve both been waiting for.
you don’t really give him a second to rethink it.
your lips connect in a rough, messy kiss that has you believing in the existence of a god. one that’s granted what you’ve been dreaming of for years. maybe after this you’ll start praying before bed again, especially if it always rewards you this well.
his mouth slots against yours like it’s the missing piece of a puzzle, your tongues tangling and your teeth nearly clashing. wooyoung’s hand on your chest regains its own control, squeezing your breast and flicking his thumb over a perked nipple. his other hand grips your waist, pulling you onto his lap. your knees dig into the mattress, hands cupping under his jaw and then entwining in his hair.
you sigh into his kiss, obsessed with this length on him. you’re sure he feels the same when he groans after you tug on it, deepening the kiss if possible. the sigh turns into a moan when he guides your hips into a circular motion, grinding you down on him to create a bit of friction and get the ball rolling.
he knows you don’t have a lot of time, maybe an hour tops, but fuck he wishes he could take his time with you. he wished he could explore your body and learn every single thing you liked and didn’t like, and use it all to his advantage. his senses are heightened so he’s keenly aware of your every sound, of each whine that escapes you.
wooyoung’s mouth travels from your own, along your jaw, and down your throat, nipping and sucking so he leaves his mark on you wherever he can. your lips part with a soft moan when he finds the sensitive spot on your neck. his hand is still in your shirt, kneading and massaging your tits like it was second nature for him.
your high has reached its peak, and you’re starting to get light headed from how good everything feels. if he didn’t touch you where you needed him most soon, you feared you might finish prematurely, and after all that you’ve been through to get to this point, you really cannot handle that tonight. thankfully, he seems to read your mind.
“i would love to make up for lost time, but i don’t think we can right now,” he pants into your skin, hands everywhere but somehow nowhere all at once. “let me just—“
“stop yapping and just fuck me, wooyoung, you’re wasting precious time,” you groan, going straight for the zipper of his jacket. you push the red material off of his shoulders in one go, practically pawing at the button of his jeans. he laughs at your impatience, but knows you’re right.
“well, when you put it like that, i don’t feel bad for the disgusting things i wanna do to you,” he teases, helping you pull your shirt over your head. “gonna fuck you so good, you’re gonna wanna see me more than once a month.”
the call out is crazy, but you don’t have the mental capacity to argue with him, head tossing back when he takes one of your tits into his mouth. you scrape your nails down the expanse of his chest and abdomen, a reprieve to the static buzzing throughout your body with wooyoung’s lips all over you. his teeth sink into your collarbone and you nearly lose your sanity. this was it, there was no going back now that you’ve fallen under his spell.
his skilled fingers make quick work removing your shorts and you’re so beyond restless, that he has a bit of trouble getting them down your legs. he stills your hips firmly, practically scolding you when he says, “sit still, pretty, i’m not going anywhere.”
it’s a weird reaffirmation, and in a way it calms your erratic mind. you finally let go of those reservations and allow yourself to submit to these feelings you’ve harbored for years. the heat of wooyoung beneath you is enough to make you squirm again, needing him inside of you before you start crying. (though judging by what he’s said so far, you think he’d like that.)
“god, i need you so bad,” you whine, lips locking with his once more. you speak the words into his mouth and they hold all the subtlety of an excavator, desperation hanging off of each syllable. “please…”
you can feel, rather than see, the conniving smile that graces his features, fingers hooking into the waistband of your panties. he’s dangling your desire in front of you like a ball of yarn with a cat, the bed of his nails dragging along your hips slowly and tortuously. you reach down to cup his erection through his boxers and that’s what spurs him on, dropping his mischievous act in favor of gifting you what you’ve been asking for so nicely.
wooyoung pushes your underwear to the side, kicking off his boxers so he’s bare for you. part of you is way more excited than you should be to fuck him raw, for the first time nonetheless. he leans back slightly and watches as you hover over his cock, sitting on it gently. he’s definitely on the longer side, longer than the other guys you’ve been with— not that there were very many to compare him to. he fills you up just right, tapping that sweet crook of your pussy when he sheathes entirely.
the moan that breaches the sound barrier fights itself from deep in your chest, tickling his ears and forcing out one of his own. his grip on your hips tightens as you begin to move. it’s more of him moving your body for you, not that you’re complaining at all. less work for you.
with each bounce on his cock, your bed squeaks and it wouldn’t be such a problem if you didn’t also hear the front door open downstairs. your eyes widen almost comically, meeting wooyoung’s with a fear so intense that it nearly scares him too. gratefully, he’s been in this situation before. he holds a finger up to his lips to shush you, simultaneously flipping the two of you so your back is flat on the bed and his feet are planted on the floor.
you’re glad you had the clear mind to lock your door when you came up to your room. you don’t know if it’s because it’s wooyoung, or maybe you’re just into it, but you feel yourself getting more turned on as he continues to fuck you despite your parents being home. he covers your mouth with his hand, rocking his hips into yours with a purpose. his free hand slithers between the two of you, thumb rubbing calculated circles into your clit.
”take it,” he rasps into your ear, nipping the lobe softly; a contrast to what’s tumbling out of his mouth. “take it like the good girl you are.”
at that same moment, there’s a knock on your bedroom door. wooyoung doesn’t stop, in fact, he speeds up his pace, pushing your thigh to your chest so he plunges deeper into your cunt. he’s evil, pure evil.
”y/n, are you in there?” your mother asks.
”y-yes,” you gasp, willing your voice to stay steady. “i was getting ready to go to s-sleep.”
“you sound off… are you feeling okay?” she expresses her concern and you look to wooyoung for help.
you bite down harshly on your lower lip when he leans down to suck on one of your tits instead, still very roughly snapping into you. he urges you to say something anyway, so you can at least get them to leave you alone. “y-yes! i’m fine! i was just looking f-for my pajamas!”
he laughs lowly so only you can hear, gazing at you through his lashes and whispering, “should we tell her they’re on your floor?”
your mother doesn’t question you any further. ”okay… goodnight, sweetheart.”
”goodnight!”
her footsteps get quieter as she walks away from your door. the shit-eating grin on wooyoung’s face contributes to the growing ache in the pit of your stomach more than it pisses you off. unfortunately he just had that effect on you. it was hard to be mad at him when he made you feel like you were lit ablaze, fire burning all the way to the tips of your fingers.
“look at you, sweetheart,” you hate that the pet name has you clenching around his length. his lips trail down your body, worshiping it like you were his own personal goddess. “you’re taking my cock so perfectly.”
if you could scream, you would. you’d be as loud as possible so your whole block knew who was fucking you this good. you’d chant his name like a prayer, which was ironic considering he was, in a sense, more like an incubus. you could draw several heaven-hell parallels from this moment in time, from the way wooyoung buries himself inside of you, and you always return to the idea that he’s straight from hell. the way he lures you in, like the serpent with eve in the garden of eden. he has you turning your back on all forms of reason.
but this inebriation, this sweet poison coursing through your bloodstream as applies practiced pressure to your clit, has your whole being soaring. you could care less about the trouble that comes with it, especially when it has your back arching off of your mattress and into his chest.
your lips pry open in a silent moan when he presses up against that same spongy nook in your pussy. tears well in your eyes as they roll back, spilling down the sides of your cheeks. wooyoung kisses them away and fucks into you harder, inching closer and closer towards what you’re already on the precipice of.
having gone nonverbal after nearly getting caught, it requires so much energy for you to croak out, “‘m so close, woo, so so close…”
he hums approvingly, back at your mouth now. his lips mold with yours so smoothly and your fingers tangle in his hair so easily. you want this forever, to be his in more ways than one. but after tonight, you don’t know how likely that is to happen, and you’ll let yourself be satiated by this one time.
you’re lost in the sensation of his kiss, disappearing in the feeling of his dick sliding in and out of your cunt without restriction. and maybe this would’ve been so different had you not been high. maybe this wouldn’t have happened at all had you been sober. your vision is hazy and your head is clouded, but you’ve never felt so liberated.
wooyoung grazes his nose against yours, a stark contrast in the behavior he’s exhibited tonight. even as he does so, his lower half is still pounding into you without mercy. and for some reason, that tenderness is what has you slipping through the cracks. your orgasm washes over you with no warning, crashing and colliding into your being almost violently.
the fluttering of your walls around his cock has wooyoung finishing right behind you, lashes skimming the tops of your cheeks in butterfly kisses that prolong the climax of your release. it’s much more intimate than you expected, your heart swelling and your body shivering with its implications. he slows his pace to something steady, something that just metaphorically holds your hand through your orgasm.
as you recover from the weight of it all, you realize that you’re still crying. wooyoung attempts to swipe away your tears with his thumbs, but when he notices that they aren’t stopping, his eyebrows knit together in confusion. he slides out of you and back into his boxers, scouring your bedroom floor for your t-shirt. he sits you up gently and cups your jaw in his hand.
“what’s wrong?” he asks, uncharacteristically serious. you’re used to him being playful and joking about everything, so for him to show genuine concern about your emotions means a lot. a lot.
“i’m okay— i’m fine, i’m just being weird.” you dismiss his worries though, since it’s true. he doesn’t owe you anything and you don’t want to guilt him into anything just because your crush is a little heavier than the schoolgirl crush he’s made it out to be. he shakes his head. he’s not having any of that.
”no, you’re upset about something. don’t water yourself down like that.” you don’t like that this is fueling your delusions, don’t like that you want him so much more than you thought you could. and maybe you could’ve stopped yourself, had you not looked at him. your gaze traces from the beauty mark under his eye to the way his hair frames his face.
“i want something i can’t have,” is what you settle on, swallowing down that bitter pill that you’ve been avoiding tonight. “and i think i’m finally coming to terms with it.”
wooyoung searches your expression for thicker substance, as if that will hint towards a clearer answer than what you’ve given him. he finds it in that painfully sad smile of yours. he finds it in the heartache swirling in the pools of your irises. you know he didn’t mean to lead you on. it’s not his fault, really. you understood what you were getting yourself into. none of the blame can be placed in his hold, because it doesn’t belong to him.
”i should go,” he says after a long stretch of silence. “before either of us get into any trouble.”
you watch as he dresses himself quickly and exits through the window, taking your heart along with him. but it would be okay. you wouldn’t have to see him for another month anyways.
at least, that’s what you tell yourself as you reignite the blunt sitting in your ashtray.
© yunhoszn. do not steal, claim, or repost.
#atzhouse#ateez#ateez x reader#ateez smut#ateez wooyoung#ateez jung wooyoung#jung wooyoung#jung wooyoung x reader#jung wooyoung smut#wooyoung x reader#wooyoung smut#yunhoszn
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Okay, I hate this
I hate this I hate this I hate this
We just had an episode that implied Eddie didn't know he could say no to the possibility of sex with Marisol. It was also implied that option didn't occur to Buck either.
And now there's a speculation that Buck and Eddie are not just letting loose and having fun... but are drugged and out of their minds.
Eddie getting his shirt ripped off because he's finally breaking out of the box he's been confining himself to? Beautiful and poetic and I love it.
Eddie getting his shirt ripped off because he's been drugged? No fucking thank you!!!!
But it's possible and that pisses me off.
(Whump is always fun. But in canon, with two characters who don't know they can say no and one who's been assaulted before, it's not good!!! This show is fantastic about handling serious issues and heavy conversations. Consent? Not so much).
Unfortunately, since there's possibilities surrounding consent right now, I have a theory or two.
If they're really copy pasting BT onto Eddie and Marisol, then they could possibly do the 5x11 thing and Eddie is going to kiss someone. Drunk. (Or drugged, depending on that spec). Consent? Don't know her.
But if they do, it could shatter the box he's been in, and himself. I hate the idea that Eddie always has to completely break to be able to heal, but he doesn't know any other way to be. Ryan hinted at the possibility of Eddie breaking again. So what makes it happen, what does he learn from it, and how does Marisol factor in?
If they do the BT parallel and he kisses someone, consensual or not, he's going to feel incredibly guilty about it. He's failed as a boyfriend (and knowing him, he'll twist it around as failing as a father too) and the box will break again.
The next few episode titles even lean into the guilt of it all. Ghost of a Second Chance, Step Nine, even Unfinished Business is ominous enough to suggest the storyline is involved there too.
With the writers for 7x08 being Juan Carlos Coto and Bradley Marques, and Coto being who wrote the breakdown, I wouldn't be surprised in the very least if something happened that episode. It doesn't need to be a breakdown again, but it can be this cathartic experience where Eddie finally lets go of the guilt he's been carrying for decades.
The title for 7x08 has been on my mind since we found out about it. Step Nine in AA is about making amends, no matter what. It's going to be a Bobby centric episode, no doubt, but Juan Carlos Coto usually writes episodes that are big for both Bobby and buddie (2x06, 3x09, 4x05, 5x13, 5x16, 6x10 to name just a few). Add in the fact Bradley Marques is writing it with him, the guy who's only done episode 100 so far, is... Interesting!
Bobby is likely making amends with Amir. Eddie has to make amends with himself. If we get a realization or a coming out that episode? I will pass out.
They're setting it up to be a brilliant queer storyline for Eddie. I would HATE for it to be tainted by drugs and a lack of consent and another cheating storyline.
And if they don't go the drug route (yay!), then an almost between Buck and Eddie would most likely be enough to make Eddie feel guilty about it and then have to face it and realize he has nothing to feel guilty about at all. Nothing happened. He just realized he wants it to happen, and for a moment it felt like Buck did too. It would push him to either hide with Marisol or drop her and be free. And since he's grown and recognized that he moved too fast asking her to move in, it's possible he breaks up with her instead of becoming more serious.
#does any of this make sense#im barely awake rn#the pink and that promo and the specs are making me insane so ¯\_(ツ)_/¯#911#buddie#911 meta#911 spoilers#911 speculation
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The Immortal as a "love interest for Buffy" and Nina as one for Angel may also have some similarities (I know that it wasn't really Buffy who dated the Immortal. But at first, Angel didn't know that, and the audience didn't until Buffy season 8 came out. And it was actually Angel thinking Buffy was with the Immortal that partly drove him into Nina's arms), as both Nina and the Immortal can be seen as fourth love interests for Angel and "Buffy," after they dated each other, of course.
Rebecca, Darla, Cordelia, and Nina for Angel (I don't count Kate since that was an aborted plotline). And Parker, Riley, Spike, and The Immortal for Buffy (though not really the last one). Though obviously, Buffy had crushes on more guys than this (like Ben and Robin), so I'm just counting the ones that she was intimate with.
And both Nina and The Immortal are supernatural creatures, of course, with Nina being a werewolf and The Immortal being a vampire.
#buffy the vampire slayer#bangel#something else i thought of some days ago in trying to think of any and all bangel parallels that i possibly can#also part of me wonders if originally the writers WERE planning on that really being buffy in the 'girl in question' and then changed there#mind about it by buffy s8 and had it be a buffy decoy instead. and honestly if they did... i'm so glad about it because buffy would NEVER#sleep with the immortal#i've seen some fanfic authors try to explain it away. and some make good attempts. but it will never sit well with me#like i could maybe be okay with the idea of her partying it up in rome and enjoying a vacation or thinking she could finally retire (at#least temporarily) after the series finale and finally enjoying life now that there are new slayers (though even that seems kind of ooc).#but sleeping with the immortal? no.#though i have read some fics where she had to do that to get info out of him like a spy... or she really didn't do that and angel and spike#just assumed wrong--and once again. she was being a spy--and that makes it all a bit better#though all this being said i still love the episode 'the girl in question'#i just see it as angel and spike being morons and not realizing that it's CLEARLY not buffy (and. i mean. it's not. s8 made that canon)#and they both lose points for it#but it's fun to see them both obsessing over who they think is her and having their hearts break in thinking she's with the immortal. pfft#angel the series
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OH WOW I JUST GOT AROUND TO READING THAT LONG POST OF YOURS AND I'M GONNA CRY
Chapter 88 vibes 😭💔 Akutagawa is cannonically in love with Atsushi and that's it I don't care if asagiri himself comes and says otherwise HE IS IN LOVE AND THAT'S IT
Oooooooowwww aaaaaaawwwwwww you're so sweet thank you so much 😭😭😭 Is this the post you're talking about? It's a nice one, thank you for giving it your time!!!!!
I really like the ship because honestly,,,,, they make so much sense together despite being written to hate each other!! I'll do you a better one for funzies: their relationship is so beautiful exactly because they were written to hate each
It's like they were perfect together in ways that became independent and got out of the author's control; it's like their love was strongest than the narrative that wanted to keep them apart and it's just. SO BEAUTIFUL. Shipping them feels like recognizing they were written like it was their destiny to hate each other yet they defeated their destiny! Their love defeated their destiny, their love was strongest than a narrative that trapped them in a world of hate where they were fated to suffer for eternity. And I think that's beautiful, they make me happy 💕💕
Idk, in a world where they were meticulously created to hate each other, raised with opposite modalities, given real reasons of resentment and loathing towards each other etc., for them to love each other has the beauty of miracles in it. Like, isn't it beautiful? To be able to say “wow, love is real” even if it's just within a little fic where they get to kiss. They make me happy!!!
Also c'mon them being in love adds so many layers to both Atsushi and Akutagawa's personalities and honestly makes the characters so much more interesting. The fight against Fukuchi is much more beautiful when you interpret them as sskk being in love. It's literally the post that goes:
the love was there. it didnt change anything. it didnt save anyone. there were just too many forces against it. but it still matters that the love was there.
(via starpeace)
I wasn't kidding about the sskk / Hadestown parallels although honestly,, Hadestown is a masterpiece bsd has nothing to do with; it's literally about rereading chapter 84 and thinking look at them there! They're there standing, breathing, alive. Ready to fight for their lives and ideals. Bust most importantly, they're together. They're together, and that makes them stronger than they could ever be. Because their bond, their love, is the strongest force, and it's able to defeat anything! And you've read those chapters a few times already, you know how it ends, but you see them stand together and you're really like. Maybe they'll do it this time! Maybe this time they'll defeat their own story. And they don't in the end, and everything plays out as for the script, but love was still there!!! I knowww it's not how the story is meant to be interpreted, but c'mon, doesn't it make way more beautiful? I wouldn't want to read it any other way. They make me happy :)
#Honestly if I make even one person turn to appreciate sskk then my time in the bsd fandom won't have gone to waste#Still holding the unofficial title of sskk-manifesto lol#Anon who are you let me hug you 💕💕 This ask made my day!!#And sorry for rambling ahah I can't help it#Like idk bsd may be trash for the most part but seriously having a reader root for the protagonists–#despite already knowing it's going to end in tragedy is perhaps the greatest thing narrative can achieve#Anyways watch / listen to Hadestown 🥰🥰 (New York Theater Workshop)#Rereading the analysis now and laughing my head off#not only because it's fairly badly written and far too euphemistic (but I was having fun lmao)#but mostly because I JUST KEPT ADDING STUFF LIKE ACTUALLY LOOK THEY ALSO COMPLEMENT EACH OTHER IN THIS. AND IN THIS. AND IN#THIS. AND I MAY GO ON FOREVER BUT JU- HOLD ON THIS TOO.#It's not like. bad-bad.#Or at least not bad-bad-bad.#It's just that it's a struggle to write short sentences when ideas just keep overflowing your brain#but sometimes that makes sentences really hard to follow and that's annoying#That and my unhealthy love for repetitions lol#“I love how it looks like Akutagawa is going the closest as he's physically able to complimenting Atsushi” I love this sentence lol#//Physically//‚ like Akutagawa biologically can't compliment Atsushi he's not built for that akxbdkabdkajxhoans#Love it when she goes [This parallel definitely hasn't got any basis but we'll act like it does because I'm having fun lol]#AAAAAHHH TAGS#No actually one more thing#I was being hopelessly romantic when writing this and I was going to make pancakes so I drew them pink while writing this lol#But although I ship them and like to think they're in love in fics#In the Fukuchi fight... Akutagawa was the only one in love AND HE HELL WAS but it wasn't requited#Like even in the unlikely scenario Atsushi is ever going to requite Akutagawa's feelings–#in my personal headcanon he'll only do so after the Fukuchi fight#sskk#bsd#bungou stray dogs#tag later
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That finale's Nam-soon makes me think she's actually a long lost child of Moon and Bong...
#strong girl nam soon#she's got the craziness of em both; huh...they'll end up like Okey-Dokey's parents...Ok-hui and Yong-myeong are more like the Capn and aunt#Si-o became the lovechild of the worst that was ever dealt to KSW and Moon storywise and Do Kang-woo and Dr. K (seriously)#nah the ending landed not at all; I really don't get why not just have had the mom be the MC batwoman from the start versus dear Ppang#the story was wayyy more about them anyway to the point of neglecting a lot of what was really important (the grandmother's grew on me tho)#although I don't get how nobody gets about nam-soon nd hee-sik; they're non-toxic and mutual and on the same page#ironically most ppl objected to Moon nd Bong on the grounds it's toxic nd one-sided(and I can't figure out the writer but platonic is his#version of ScullyXMulder) but it just boils down to Hee-sik nd Moon not having a real backstory to make foil/parallel connections(?) with F#in byt at least the two do have the true gold- old school bickering chemistry...i really don't get story choices sometimes#civillians wreaking havoc with police while investigating; asking too much out suspension of disbelief; woobifieds death#putting the ML on the backburner; too many sideplots too few resolutions....#unnecessary and easily avoidable love triangles; 'love is deadly'- only Heesik escaped(kindof*) Moon went 180deg characterwise w/infatuatio#and made worst choices RSO and KSW were doomed by it#*the whole forcing the idea of tradition to have a child so young was very uncomfortable with Heesik who shouldv meet Min-hyuk nd talked
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Hi Jonny! Re: your latest post, did you mean that guest writers are also involved with the metaplot portions (with Alice and Sam ans Gwen and the others), or just the case file/"statement" parts? Inquiring minds would like to know. Really enjoying Protocol so far!
So, the detailed answer to this is very complicated, as it's all about parallel production pipelines and varies quite a lot between guest writers, as they all had different schedules/availability. We'll probably dive into it more on a Q&A at some point.
Broadly speaking, the shape and story of the overall metaplot is all me and Alex. We'd have loved to get some of the guest writers involved for a bit more of a writers room feel, but time and logistics simply didn't allow for it. Once we'd sculpted the seasons, we sent out the episode briefs to the guest writers, along with a prompt for a possible case. Some of them used the prompts, others created the whole thing themselves. A few did a pass at the dialogue scenes, but most of these ended up being heavily redone by me and Alex when we were going through and weaving the story together and making the characterisation consistent (it was all being written pretty much simultaneously, so when drafting the guest writers really only had the pilot to go on in terms of writing the cast). Then there were a couple rounds of feedback/edits for the cases, and me and Alex adding in bits to tie the case into the metaplot a bit more and make the tone a bit more cohesive.
Like I say, it varied heavily based on the guest writer (and which of myself or Alex had the first edit pass on an episode), but if you're trying to guess how likely any given event/line was to be written by someone specific, the chances are generally something like
Overall story: 50% Jonny, 50% Alex
"Written by Jonny" episode: 80% Jonny, 20% Alex
"Written by Alex"episode: 80% Alex, 20% Jonny
Guest writer episode (case): 80% Guest, 10% Alex, 10% Jonny
Guest writer episode (scenes): 20% Guest, 40% Alex, 40% Jonny
To be clear, these numbers are purely illustrative, but they give you a rough idea of at least how it seemed from my end. April's been doing a fantastic job of organising the production, so apologies to her if I'm talking fully out my ass :p
#plucking numbers out of the air#collaborative writing is complicated#but very rewarding#tmagp#the magnus protocol
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Something I was always a little concerned about in the lead-up to Hazbin Hotel was that Charlie was going to be a bit too passive of a character, ie; leaning only into the ‘kind, optimistic Disney-Princess-in-Hell who just wants to help everyone’ vibe and not really have much else going on as a character. Which in turn would make her feel kind of bland next to the big, over-the-top or dramatic personalities like Angel Dust and Alastor.
But thankfully, that is not what happened and there’s actually a lot that I like about what the writers are doing with Charlie, particularly in the potential future development and reveals they seem to be setting up.
First off, I like how Charlie generally comes off more like an over-the-top caricature of that ‘Disney-Princess-in-Hell’ vibe, ie; SUPER energized, enthusiastic, affectionate and emotional, often to overbearing degrees that get on everyone’s nerves. It’s generally funny, or at least amusing, and lets Charlie stand out alongside the other big personalities in the cast. Funny enough, she’s actually a lot like Blitzo in this regard, minus the seesawing into extreme abrasiveness.
And more importantly, we’ve already gotten major hints all but confirming that this over-the-top personality is largely a façade, and that Charlie actually has some very clear issues and baggage that she’s working VERY hard to keep buried beneath the surface. Again, much like Blitzo.
Like how in the trust-fall exercise in episode three, despite asking everyone to reveal something personal, Charlie actually bullshits just as hard as Angel Dust and Sir Pentious with her whole ‘I love you all!’ bit. Sure, it’s not like she was lying or being insincere, but it’s clear that was NOT something truly personal for Charlie. And in episode 4 we have Husk straight-up calls out Charlie as ‘wanting to solve everyone’s problems but her own’.
Then of course we have the brief glimpses we’ve seen of Charlie getting angry. Both the times we’ve seen Charlie dealing with some truly despicable and horrendous characters, we’ve seen that rather than lacking the ability to get angry, Charlie is often working to hold herself back. In both her encounters with Adam and Valentino we see points where Charlie is clearly NOT intimidated or afraid of them at all and seems fully prepared to throw down, only being stopped by reigning herself in or by someone else (in this case Angel) stopping her.
Again, it all paints Charlie’s big, bubbly, hyperactive exuberance as something of a front, a way for her to bury a lot of thoughts, feelings and general baggage she doesn’t want to face. Just like what the show has already explored with Angel and Husk.
It actually raises some interesting questions as to what’s REALLY driving Charlie in running the hotel and trying to help Sinners. For one, Husk has already pegged Charlie as ‘wanting to solve everyone’s problems but her own’. And going back to thematic crossover with Helluva Boss, I can’t help but see some potential parallels between Charlie creating the Hazbin Hotel, and Blitzo creating Immediate Murder Professionals.
I think it’s pretty clear at this point that half the reason for creating I.M.P. was as a coping mechanism for Blitzo, or rather the assassination business in general. Something that we’ve gotten hints to as early as the second episode in Blitzo’s back and forth with the Robo-Fizz (“Does anyone love you, Blitzo?”/“No. But I’m really good with guns now!”). With the other half of the reason Blitzo created I.M.P. clearly seems to be to create a surrogate family, as seen with how much he tries to insert himself in the M&M’s lives. Possibly even a specific attempt to replace the family he unwittingly destroyed fifteen years ago.
So I really have to wonder if we’re going to find out that Charlie creating the hotel and her goal of redeeming sinners is in part likewise a coping mechanism and escape for her own baggage.
It’s actually really interesting how episode two first introduced the idea of people opening up with Sir Pentious, then episode four dived further into the concept of the walls and fake personas people put up to hide from their pain and trauma with Angel Dust and Husk. With those two opening up and starting to let their walls down to each other, and by extension we the audience, I think it makes Charlie’s own façade all the more noticeable. It’ll be pretty interesting if Charlie actually winds up being the toughest nut to crack when it comes to opening up about their real issues and baggage. Yet another interesting trait she shares with Blitzo.
All in all, I’m really liking what the show has been doing with Charlie as a protagonist. And I’m REALLY interested to see where the story is going to take her.
Particularly what’s going to happen when she reaches a breaking point…
#hazbin hotel#helluva boss#hazbin analysis#hazbin theory#charlie morningstar#helluva blitzo#character parallels#character analysis#charlie has a LOT more going on than she's showing#blitzo hitting his breaking point had him crying himself to sleep into a pillow#what if charlie hitting HER breaking point has her raining LITERAL ARMAGEDDON down on some poor bastards?
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One thing I do like about TOTJ's take on Dooku's fall is that it really highlights that the Dark Side makes you absolutely masochistic. (Mega long post ahead).
One thing TOTJ establishes is that Qui-Gon's death is absolutely on Dooku (no matter if the show itself doesn't seem to be aware of it).
His tone is concerned and his attitude sympathetic and supportive, but he knows. He knows it's a Sith Lord (he even knows Maul's name). He knows Qui-Gon almost died and is marching right into another trap, but he asks questions anyway and affects ignorance.
"I've been warning them about the coming darkness for years," he says, "never to be taken seriously." Using the Council's skepticism as an occasion to complain about how they didn't believe him while lying by omission is a great case of that hypocrisy Dooku loves denouncing in others. Dooku would rather Qui-Gon share his disillusionment with the Jedi than actually do anything to help Qui-Gon. The Council don't believe him? Okay, Dooku, but YOU DO. You can just tell him what's going on.
But he doesn't.
On some level, Dooku has to be aware of what's about to happen. Qui-Gon is walking into grave danger, and Dooku's response to that - before it happens, when there is still time to stop it - is to put the blame on the people who don't know shit while not doing shit himself. (Why can't Dooku be there to protect Qui-Gon, other than because he's already slavishly loyal to Sidious' plans?)
And this moment puts every subsequent action of Dooku's throughout the Prequels in perspective - particularly his relationships with Obi-Wan, Ventress and Yoda.
Dooku is a glutton for punishment.
I've written here about why I think the 'Box' from TCW 4x17 is meant to parallel Obi-Wan and Qui-Gon's mission on Naboo. The dioxis, ventilation shafts, the catwalks and lightsabers, the ray shields, the fire pit... Dooku's idea of a test to find the best mercenaries around is to have them survive what killed Qui-Gon (what he allowed to happen).
During the challenge, it's pretty obvious he starts to suspect Hardeen is Obi-Wan.
Or at the very least, he's taking an interest in the man who supposedly killed Qui-Gon's own apprentice - Dooku's spiritual grandson (see RotS novelization), whom he's been trying very hard to either recruit or kill himself. And what does he do with that interest? Tries to push "Hardeen" to kill Eval in anger.
Dooku, who still mourns the Padawan he knowingly let walk away to his death, watches a pantomime of his Padawan's death, while putting in mortal danger all he has left of said apprentice. If he knows Hardeen is Obi-Wan (and it's pretty obvious that he does), he tries to get Obi-Wan to Fall (or potentially die) in a scenario reenacting Qui-Gon's death. If he doesn't know for sure, then he's encouraging his all but grandson's killer to win the tournament because he admires him (for killing someone Dooku wanted by his side).
Whatever the outcome, Dooku chooses to relive his guilt and chooses to make the same choice to kill his loved one all over again, even though we know he hates that he made this choice:
He misses Qui-Gon and needs him but tries to kill or destroy Obi-Wan, whom he needs and wants by his side. (I haven't counted just how many time he does try killing Obi-Wan in TCW while still expressing his indefectible admiration for him - it's frequent, the Box just stands out to me as one of the most noteworthy occasions.)
And he keeps doing stuff like that!! He keeps choosing the path that causes him the most pain. He does it with Sifo-Dyas, he does it with Yaddle, he does it with Yoda and he does it with Ventress.
Just look at him confronting Sidious about Qui-Gon's death:
He KNOWS following Sidious got Qui-Gon murdered and he KNOWS Sidious will continue to kill or order him to kill people close to him. And yet he's quick to reassure Sidious that this doesn't change anything. Securing his position with Sidious matters more than his rage and grief. The ONLY WAY this behavior makes sense is if Dooku is fully aware that he had a choice about Qui-Gon's fate, and decides that this is the path he's on now: Sidious might make him kill everyone he cares about, but he's going to do it. Every time, things will play out the same.
Sidious tells him to kill Ventress, his new apprentice? Sure, why not!
(And it's not even out of true loyalty for Sidious, because he constantly tries to double-cross him later on. It's pure self-destruction:)
He hates it, Sidious promises him more of it, and he goes along with it!
This is why Yaddle's attempts at bringing him back don't work, in my opinion:
"Whatever lies he's told you, whatever you have done, you can make up for it now by bringing him to justice." This might convince a man who is looking for atonement, except Dooku isn't. He is looking for punishment.
Killing or harming those close to him leaves him broken, furious or in pain? He'll just keep doing it.
Sidious offers him nothing more than agonizing slavery? He'll keep on kneeling.
That's when Yaddle literally offers him the Light - the light that is so much more powerful than the Dark that it has Sidious cowering, the light that can save him if he wants - Dooku just strikes her down, even though he was heartbroken over thinking he had killed her just a moment ago.
He chooses to kill her, regrets it and hates himself for it, and chooses to kill her again. HE KEEPS MAKING THE CHOICE THAT HE KNOWS WILL HURT.
His remedy to guilt is to pick a shovel, because by God if he hasn't hit rock bottom yet he's going to dig!
#long post#meta#dooku#darth sidious#obi-wan kenobi#qui-gon jinn#yoda#yaddle#tales of the jedi#count dooku
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𐔌᭥ᩙ༉ PALETTE OF DESTINY.
୨ genre ୧ fluff, highschool au
: you’re an aspiring artist who’d very much rather trip over a paintbrush than have people find out about your passion. but when rafayel, the school’s golden boy and president of the art club, stumbles upon your sketchbook on a fateful day by chance, things are destined to take a huge turn – and suddenly, your well-kept talent was no longer much of a secret.
˚₊·—̳͟͞͞♡ note ! my break is finally over !! so glad i managed to pull through (also they only allow 10 image insertions so i apologize for the lack of dividers haha)
in the chambers of linkon high, where bonds formed like constellations in the night sky, you and rafayel orbited in separate galaxies. rafayel, with his magnetic charm and sarcastic wit, loved to stand in the center of the spotlight. you, on the other hand, were the complete opposite. you found solace in the shadows, often keeping to yourself as you went through the days in silence. it was as if your paths were not destined to cross, given how your worlds were practically parallel to each other.
yet beneath rafayel’s facade, a longing for at least a few seconds to himself laid beneath the surface. as much as he pretended to like being the center of attention, even though he would never admit it – not even to himself, he wanted nothing but for those eyes to keep their gazes off of him. after all, having a lot of people like you despite not being remotely close to you only meant one thing – they either have the intention to use you for their own good, or are just keeping an eye on you with the eagerness to watch you trip on your tracks.
you’ve always been thankful for rafayel over hogging the spotlight all the time, which never failed to ensure your chances to be one step away from the crowd everyday.
yet unbeknownst to both you and the crowd that adored rafayel, he has had his eyes on you for a fairly long time now, although it’s not in the usual way you’d expect.
rafayel had always been jealous of how the only attention focusing on you was your own. he was curious about your whole being, because people at school either love him or loathe him, yet you stood on neither sides – which made him both intrigued and grateful. intrigued because he always wonders what you are up to because of how mysterious you were in his eyes, and grateful because at least there’s one person in linkon high who doesn’t really care about his presence.
it only made him want to know more about you, though.
as everyone formed their own groups inside the classroom to chatter and spend their free time to its fullest, thomas leaned over to rafayel, tilting his head at him. “you really have a knack for making every little thing in your life complicated, don’t you? why don't you just go talk to her?” he suggested, nodding towards you who sat at the back, lost in thought by the window.
rafayel shook his head in disagreement, his brows furrowing as he did so. “that’s way too typical- you know i refuse to do things the easy way. also, i don’t want to invade her space or make her uncomfortable.” he replied, glancing over you with a hint of curiosity.
thomas shrugged, understanding rafayel’s reasons. “well, you’re right.” rafayel crossed his arms as he leaned back, looking down on thomas as he sat on the boy’s table. “aren’t i always?” thomas only shook his head, already used to rafayel’s cocky behavior. “no, not really.”
he teased in a flat tone.
“so then, what’s your plan? don’t tell me you intend on following her on her way home after school later just so you could have a one on one moment with each other.” thomas crooked his eyebrow, seemingly skeptical of rafayel’s plans.
rafayel scoffed, rolling his eyes. “please, like i’d ever do something so cliché- and why are you looking at me as if it’s an idea i’d actually consider?”
“because it is.”
“you-” the sudden ringing of the school bells echoing through the halls cut rafayel off, as students left the classroom one by one with their lunchboxes at hand, headed for the cafeteria. thomas stood up from his seat, patting rafayel’s shoulder as he walked right past the boy sitting on his table. “good luck on your journey of befriending the person who’s very likely to actually be the one who hates you the most.”
“that’s not even-”
this was the second time rafayel had been cut off now. thomas had simply closed the door on him. groaning in annoyance, rafayel hopped off from thomas’s table as he walked towards the front door – the one thomas had just shut to cut him off. but just as he was about leave, rafayel heard a loud thud behind him, making him turn his head quickly.
whatever he was expecting to see, it certainly wasn’t your sketchbook lying on the floor while you were in a deep slumber with your head down on your table.
walking closer towards you with cautious steps, he crouched down, picking up your sketchbook with curiosity. he took his time to examine each and every sticker and doodle on the front cover, a small smile tugging on the corners of his lips as he found it cute.
as he flipped through every page, he found himself becoming more impressed with each sketch he laid his eyes on. he could tell you made sure each and every stroke of your artworks were given enough detail – they didn’t seem like something you made for fun to distract yourself from boring classes, no, rather, they seemed like something you actually put dedication to. you were undoubtedly a skilled artist who has had this hobby for a fairly long time. after all, it takes an expert to know one.
he eventually starts to wonder why you never publicly expressed this talent of yours. as far as his knowledge as the art club’s president led him, you’ve never joined any events related to art – you weren’t even part of the club, to begin with. but why?
something so beautiful should never have been hidden in the first place – at least that’s what he believes.
as he closed your sketchbook and carefully placed it back inside your bag, he found himself in a trance as he glanced at your sleeping expression. based on his observation, it didn’t seem far too different from how you looked when you were awake. you’ve always appeared to be calm, no matter what.
that was one of your traits he was unsure whether he admired or wanted to have as his own.
he decided to leave you to yourself shortly after, but it wasn’t until an idea suddenly came up in his mind. rafayel hurried over to his seat at the center front, rummaging through his bag as he ripped a page off his notebook, taking a pen out of his pocket. the sound of his pen scribbling on the paper softly echoed around the empty classroom as he wrote a note on it.
after carefully putting it inside your bag, he quickly left the room – not after taking a quick glance at you once more. as he searched through the halls to look for thomas, rafayel couldn’t help but wonder how you’d react after reading his little note.
—
“-which reminds me, i went to look for you at the cafeteria earlier, but i didn’t see you anywhere. were you at the rooftop again?” tara asked in curiosity.
“huh? oh... i think i fell asleep.” you pondered as you tried to recall the events before waking up to the sound of your classmates walking back inside the classroom one by one as they chatted loudly. “everyone was already going back to their assigned seats the moment i woke up, so i think that’s the case...”
“i’m not even surprised at this point... but, you know, i do wonder how you manage to fall asleep in your classroom- especially since rafayel’s one of your classmates. i bet it’s really loud there, huh?” she tilted her head.
“i’ve gotten used to it already at this point, i’m afraid...” you rubbed your nape as you chuckled sheepishly. “well, whatever helps you sleep at night. at least now i know where to look for you whenever i don’t see you around during break time- you’re either enjoying your own company at the rooftop, or sleeping in your classroom.” she smiled as she nodded while pointing a finger at you.
you chuckled softly, yet gave her a nod in return as well. “okay, then... take care, tara,” you smiled at her, waving farewell as you parted ways.
“bye-bye!”
you were already far deep into the night. your surroundings engulfed you with a deafening silence, as the dim glow of the moonlight passed through your bedroom window. you’ve been on a staring contest with your ceiling for approximately 10 minutes now, uncomfortably laying down on your back. this was exactly why you tried to avoid sleeping during the day as much as possible – you’d always end up having way too much energy to fall asleep.
groaning softly as you sat up, you reached for your bedside lamp as you switched it open, the empty space of the bed in front of you deflating as you placed your bag on it. rummaging through your items, you searched for your sketchbook, wanting to have something to do to distract yourself from the long night.
it was then that your hands stumbled upon a small crumpled piece of paper.
at first, you were confused – the paper was unfamiliar to you, so there was no way it was ripped off of something of your property. you unfolded it carefully, curious about what was written on it.
“the world deserves to witness how talented u are :)”
your eyes widened slightly in disbelief as you read the words written on the paper – this could only mean one thing.
someone had seen your artworks.
but how? and when? you tried to backtrack, and that was when you remembered that the last thing you saw before you fell asleep was your sketchbook. so then, now you were stuck wondering whether the note’s intention was to give a compliment or to make fun of you in a passive aggressive way.
opening your phone as you lightly squinted after being practically blinded with its blindness, you searched for tara’s number in your contacts, immediately dialing her number the moment you found it.
the soft glow of your bedside lamp illuminated the room as you sat up, your heart pounding with a mix of curiosity and apprehension.
after a few rings, tara’s energetic voice filled the line. “hey, you! what’s up?” she greeted cheerfully. “how do you manage to remain enthusiastic even in the middle of the night...?” you pondered, a confused expression on your face.
“drinking iced coffee four times in a row in one sitting, maybe?” and with the tone she used, you weren’t even sure whether it was a lighthearted joke to uplift the atmosphere or if she actually meant it. nevertheless, you just let out a sigh.
“why the sudden late night call, though? can’t sleep?” tara asked from the other line. “well, if i called a few minutes earlier, i guess that would’ve been the case...” you trailed off, looking down at the note you held in your hand. “huh? what do you mean?”
“i was rummaging through my bag to look for my sketchbook earlier, and i stumbled upon something strange...” tara didn’t even let you finish, already exclaiming eagerly the moment you said the word “strange.”
“mysterious findings, you say? i’m all ears!”
you looked at the note once again, reading it aloud to tara. “i found this note. it says... ‘the world deserves to witness how talented u are :)’. i don’t know how, when, and where it got here, though.”
there was a brief silence on the other end of the line, followed by tara’s gasp of realization. “oh my, that sounds like something straight out of a shoujo manga! wait- maybe it’s a secret admirer!”
you awkwardly chuckled, quickly dismissing it as unlikely. “what? no, i doubt it, tara.. i don’t believe it’s possible.” you replied, your voice tinged with self-doubt.
“what? hey, don’t sell yourself short!” tara chided gently. “you’re amazing, and it’s very likely someone out there clearly sees it- as they should! i mean, does the note not say it enough?”
you couldn’t help but smile at tara’s unwavering optimism, her words offering a glimmer of hope in the darkness of uncertainty. “my point still stands, but i appreciate it, really. but then again, you never know whether someone’s messing around with you or not in our school..”
tara remained silent for about a couple seconds. “now that you mentioned it... wait, what if the person who saw it was one of your gossip-obsessed classmates? what if they spill the beans until it reaches the art club?”
a pang of worry shot through you at tara’s theories, the thought of your private hobby becoming public knowledge leaving a bitter taste on your tongue. “i hadn't thought of that," you admitted worriedly. “i’d really hate for that to happen..."
tara’s tone softened, her concern evident in her voice. “let’s hope that’s not the case- i’d prefer for the mysterious person to be a secret admirer of yours and not the latter. and hey, even if it does get out, your talent deserves to be recognized, y’know?” she reassured you.
feeling a sense of relief wash over you, you thanked tara for her understanding before bidding her goodnight. as you settled back into bed, the warmth of tara’s friendship enveloped you, easing the uncertainty that had plagued your thoughts.
you felt the corners of your lips tilt upwards as you stifled a chuckle. you’ve always been grateful to have tara as your best friend, because her outgoing personality fits just right with your likeliness to remain self-reserved all the time. her loud presence had a perfect contrast to your quiet aura – which made everything between your friendship just go so well.
if you had a dollar for each time people would wonder how you two manage to tolerate each other’s presence, you’d be on a yacht right now – they’d always ask comments such as, “don’t you feel overwhelmed by tara’s enthusiasm?” or if not, they’d go like, “how does tara manage not to get bored by your consistent silence?” yet you two would only brush it off every single time.
you two were glad to have each other in your lives, and you wouldn’t have it any other way.
glancing at the small piece of paper on your hand once more, you let out a sigh as you put it back inside your bag, finally feeling exhaustion spread all over your body. you figured there was no longer a need for sketching the night away at this point, so you placed your bag away as you switched your bedside lamp off, wrapping yourself around your blanket as your eyes fluttered shut.
as much as you tried to deny it to yourself, you couldn’t help but feel curious as to who the mysterious person who put the note inside your bag was.
and you had a bad, bad feeling that it’ll turn out to be someone you’ll least expect.
“first of all, you’re really, really stupid. second of all, you’re very stupid. lastly- holy hell, you’re actually so stupid!” thomas’s frustration echoed through the empty classroom as he frantically searched through his bag, his fingers desperately seeking the familiar touch of his phone screen.
rafayel’s incredulous expression mirrored his disbelief. “wha- now it’s on me?!” he retorted, his hands instinctively moving to his chest in a defensive gesture. “i hate to be the bearer of bad news, mr. thomas, but when you indulge in utterly foolish activities, you’ll have to shoulder the consequences afterward. it’s very immature of you to pass it on to other people simply because admitting that you're dumb puts your ego in pain,” rafayel asserted, crossing his arms in a display of dominance.
thomas’s sarcastic tone cut through the air like a knife. “are you done talking now, shakespeare? do you finally have the time to lend me a hand?” he quipped, his eyes practically rolling in their sockets.
“why should i?” rafayel shot back, his patience wearing thin with each passing moment.
“because you were the one who left my bag open before we headed here! if it weren’t for you, my phone wouldn’t have—" thomas’s words were abruptly cut off by rafayel’s hand covering his mouth, muffling his protests.
“yeah, yeah, i’ll go look for it, or whatever. can you shut your mouth now?” rafayel rolled his eyes, wiping his hand on his uniform as he released thomas.
just as thomas was about to retaliate with a snarky remark, rafayel sauntered past him with a smug expression, heading toward the stairs. “that’s what you call payback, thomas," he called over his shoulder, winking as he waved him farewell.
“rafayel, you-!”
rafayel relished the cool morning breeze as it caressed his skin, the tranquil atmosphere of the rooftop offering a brief respite from his hectic schedule. “guess this wasn’t a bad idea after all, huh?” he mused to himself, settling onto the floor and allowing himself a moment of quiet reflection.
closing his eyes, he momentarily forgot his purpose for coming to the rooftop. however, his peaceful reverie was interrupted by a familiar voice calling his name – soft chuckles he had heard every once in a blue moon during class.
“rafayel...?”
opening his eyes, he was taken aback to see you standing before him. “oh- hey,” he greeted casually, attempting to maintain his usual air of confidence. which was strange – being laid-back usually came naturally to him.
yet, in your presence, it felt different, and he couldn’t quite pinpoint why.
“um... what brings you up here?” you asked, your tone curious yet cautious at the same time. rafayel chuckled softly before replying, “well, i could say the same for you. what’s your story?”
you hesitated for a moment, not used to being the center of attention- and neither were you expecting him to pass the question back to you. “well, i usually come up here during free time,” you explained, feeling a bit vulnerable sharing this with someone.
“oh? why’s that?” rafayel inquired, patting the floor beside him, inviting you to join him. you were a little hesitant at first, but rafayel’s easygoing demeanor put you at ease. “it’s nothing special... i just find it peaceful, away from the chaos of the school,” you explained, finally taking a seat beside him.
rafayel nodded, understanding. “i get that. sometimes you just need a quiet place to escape to.” you nodded in agreement to his words. “what about you...?” you asked, shooting the question back to him.
“well, you see,” rafayel launched into the backstory of his rooftop adventure, recounting the events that had transpired earlier. “ thomas and i had a little spat over his missing phone, and things got a tad heated,” rafayel explained, a hint of amusement in his voice. “he’s convinced i had a hand in its disappearance, but i swear i’m completely innocent.” he said in defense, holding his hands up.
“he didn’t seem like he was going to stop putting up a fight anytime sooner, though, so i just went along with his orders and told him i’ll go look for it- and you’re probably wondering what that has got to do with me going up here, but i figured it’d be easier to search for it from above, because, well, maybe he dropped it on the ground or something.” he shrugged.
listening to his animated storytelling, you found yourself drawn in by the humor of the situation. unable to contain it, a stifled laugh escaped your lips at a particularly amusing part of his story.
surprised by the genuine warmth of your laughter, rafayel couldn’t help but smile, his own laughter mingling with yours. realizing the significance of the moment, you quickly composed yourself, returning to your usual calm demeanor as if nothing had happened. “well...”
with the school bells signaling the start of the first period, your conversation with rafayel was cut short. as he stood up, he fixed his uniform, running his hands through his hair. “wanna walk to our class together? it’s not like we go to separate rooms, anyway.”
you were hesitant to accept his offer at first, but you figured there’d be no harm in agreeing anyway. you then found yourselves walking side by side down the hallway, headed to your shared classroom. the atmosphere was laced with a subtle awkwardness, and rafayel, always the entertainer, couldn’t resist breaking the silence.
“so, do you have any exciting plans for today?” he asked, a hint of curiosity in his tone. you glanced at him, “me? well... not really, just the usual routine,” you replied softly, appreciating the effort he made to fill the silence.
he chuckled. “routine, huh? well, maybe today will be different. who knows, maybe we’ll discover a hidden talent or stumble upon a secret club meeting.” rafayel gestured dramatically, creating an imaginary scenario with a playful smirk.
you couldn’t help but smile at his antics, the shared moment of lightheartedness making the walk to class a little more enjoyable.
just as the silence was starting to settle yet again, rafayel came up with yet another topic to discuss. “so, what do you think the chances are of mr. nero bringing up quadratic equations again today?”
you couldn’t help but become amused at his attempt to lighten the mood. “knowing mr. nero... i’d say the chances are pretty high, maybe? but, i don’t know... maybe he’ll surprise us and throw in some trigonometry instead.”
rafayel grinned, pleased with your response. “ah, the joys of high school math. it’s like a rollercoaster ride, isn’t it?” you nodded in agreement, grateful for the distraction from the usual quietness of your interactions with rafayel. as you reached the classroom door, rafayel gestured for you to enter first.
“after you,” he said with a smile. “i’ll catch up in a minute.” confused by his sudden change in routine, you hesitated for a moment before stepping into the classroom. once inside, you found your seat at the back of the room and settled in, glancing over your to the front door to see rafayel entering a few minutes later.
as he entered the classroom, all eyes naturally turned towards him, the usual attention that followed the school’s golden boy. however, what surprised you was the way his gaze briefly connected with yours, despite having everyone’s gaze focused on him. in that fleeting moment, there was a hint of something different in his smile, something that caught you off guard.
confusion clouded your thoughts as you watched him take his seat. was it just a simple gesture, or did it hold a deeper meaning? you couldn’t help but return his smile with a small one of your own, though uncertainty lingered in the air.
mr. nero began the lesson, and you pushed aside the thoughts about what just happened, focusing instead on the task at hand. but the memory of that moment stayed with you, a puzzle waiting to be solved in the back of your mind.
as rafayel settled into his seat, thomas leaned in, his voice barely above a whisper. “so, did you find it?” rafayel glanced at thomas with a mischievous twinkle in his eyes. “find what?” thomas rolled his eyes. “my phone, genius. the one you conveniently lost.”
rafayel feigned innocence, a smirk playing at the corners of his lips. “oh, that. well, let’s just say it’s still out there, waiting to be discovered.” thomas groaned, shaking his head in disbelief. “you’re impossible, you know that?” rafayel simply shrugged, his attention now focused on the front of the classroom.
meanwhile, thomas seized the opportunity to get his revenge, crumpling a piece of paper and taking aim at rafayel’s head. with a flick of his wrist, he let it fly, but to his dismay, it veered off course, heading straight for mr. nero instead.
as mr. nero’s stern voice filled the classroom, rafayel’s grin faltered, replaced by a mask of feigned innocence as he faced his wrath as the whole class erupted into a fit of laughter.
“rafayel, care to explain why there’s a projectile flying through my classroom?” mr. nero’s tone was sharp, his eyes narrowed in suspicion.
rafayel glanced sheepishly at thomas, who was struggling to contain his laughter. “wha- me? sir, i swear it wasn’t-”
“quit beating around the bush! is it really that difficult to act in an orderly manner?” mr. nero crossed his arms, a frustrated expression on his face.
“well, i just- it was an accident, sir. i assure you, i had no intention of disrupting the class.”
thomas couldn’t resist chiming in, his voice dripping with sarcasm. “yeah, right. because accidentally throwing things seems to be a common occurrence for mr. perfect over here.”
the class erupted into laughter once more, and rafayel felt a pang of irritation at thomas’s teasing. he was supposed to be annoyed, but as he glanced towards the back of the room and saw you stifling a laugh, he couldn’t help but soften. maybe it wouldn’t be so bad to take the blame just this once after all.
caught in the moment, rafayel played along with the situation, flashing a glare at thomas before turning back to face mr. nero. “sorry, sir. it won’t happen again.”
thomas leaned back in his seat, a smirk on his face. “nice aim, raf. maybe next time you’ll hit your target.”
“shut up.”
you and tara were supposed to go home together, but her girlfriend, jenna, the student council president, had a date planned for both of them after school, leaving you to head home alone. just as you were heading towards the gate, you noticed a phone lying on the floor. curiosity piqued, you picked it up and unlocked it, revealing a childhood photo of rafayel and thomas as the wallpaper. this must be the missing phone rafayel was referring to.
wondering where they might be, you remembered rafayel’s role as the president of the art club and headed towards the art room. pushing open the door, you found the room empty except for rafayel, his back turned to you as he focused on his painting.
“rafayel?” you called out suddenly, causing him to jump in surprise, accidentally smudging a stroke of red on his canvas.
as soon as he heard your voice, he didn’t need to see you to know it was you. still, he turned to face you, a faint smile gracing his lips.
“what brings you here?” he asked, genuine curiosity coloring his tone. you hesitated for a moment, feeling a bit nervous under his gaze. “um, i found this phone outside, and i thought it might belong to thomas. i was going to return it to him, but i couldn’t find him.”
rafayel nodded, understanding. “i see. well, i owe you my entire life- now i no longer have to worry about him nagging into my ear about his missing phone.”
before you could respond, your eyes fell on the smudged red stroke on rafayel’s painting, and you couldn’t help but point it out, apologizing profusely for potentially ruining his masterpiece.
“oh no- i’m so sorry, rafayel...! i didn’t mean to mess up your painting...” you apologized, feeling genuinely remorseful for your unintentional mistake.
rafayel examined the mark for a moment before dismissing your apology with a casual wave of his hand. “don’t worry about it,” he reassured you. “in fact, i think it adds something to the painting.”
perplexed, you questioned his reasoning, prompting rafayel to introduce you to the red string theory. as he explained the concept, you listened intently, captivated by the depth of his perspective on art.
“so, you see, the red string represents the invisible connections between people,” rafayel elaborated. “it’s said that those connected by the red string are destined to meet, regardless of time, place, or circumstances. even though it’s invisible, it binds us all together in unexpected ways.”
his explanation resonated with you, and you nodded in understanding, impressed by the philosophical depth of his interpretation. “that’s why i believe the stroke of red on my canvas adds more meaning to it,” rafayel concluded, his eyes gleaming with passion.
you were awestruck by his insight, realizing that his role as the club president was well-deserved. though you considered yourself an artist, rafayel’s level of understanding elevated your appreciation for the craft.
“actually,” rafayel began, a thoughtful expression crossing his face, “why don’t we add both our names to the painting?” your eyebrows furrowed in surprise. “both our names? but it’s your artwork. i don’t want to impose or take credit for something i didn’t create.”
rafayel chuckled softly, shaking his head. “it’s not about credit, it’s about meaning. your accidental contribution gave this painting a story- a connection. it wouldn’t be the same without it.” you considered his words, realizing the depth of his sentiment. “oh... alright, then.”
with a warm smile, rafayel handed you the marker, gesturing towards the bottom of the canvas. “go ahead, write your name next to mine. together, we’ll leave our mark on this piece.”
grateful for the opportunity to be a part of something meaningful, you carefully inscribed your name alongside his, feeling a sense of pride and camaraderie in the shared moment.
as mr. nero’s voice filled the classroom, announcing the upcoming event proposed by the art club, the room buzzed with excitement.
“attention, students! i’m pleased to announce that the art club has proposed an extraordinary event. it is a school-wide art exhibition centered around the theme of ‘strings of affection: capturing love’s melodies,’” mr. nero declared, his tone brimming with enthusiasm.
“this exhibition aims to delve into the complexities of love and its complex manifestations.” whispers and murmurs erupted among the students, excitement evident in the air.
“during the exhibition, each participating student will have the opportunity to display their artwork in the school gallery,” mr. nero continued, gesturing to a large poster board adorned with colorful flyers. “artworks can include paintings, drawings, sculptures, photography- anything that captures the essence of love.”
sitting at the back of the class, you found yourself lost in thought, your fingers fidgeting anxiously under the table. “the theme encourages exploration of various aspects of love, including romantic love, familial bonds, friendships, and self-love,” mr. nero elaborated, his voice carrying a note of significance. “we encourage each of you to delve deep into your hearts and minds to convey your unique interpretations of love through your artwork.”
the idea of participating in the art exhibition sparked a mix of excitement and apprehension within you. could you summon the courage to explore such a profound theme and share your interpretation of love with the entire school?
glancing around the room, you noticed people exchanging excited whispers with their friends, their eyes alight with anticipation, whereas the others were nodding to each other in silent agreement, perhaps contemplating their own interpretations of love for their submissions.
despite the lively chatter filling the room, you felt a sense of isolation, the weight of your decision resting solely on your shoulders. as mr. nero concluded his announcement and the chatter in the classroom continued, you found yourself lost in thought, pondering the depth of love and whether you were ready to explore it through your art.
as you sat there, wrestling with your decision about whether to join the art exhibition, the note you found in your bag earlier suddenly came to mind. pulling it out, you studied the words written on it, feeling a pang of uncertainty.
lost in your contemplation, you were startled when a paper plane soared through the air, landing neatly on your desk. with curious fingers, you unfolded it, revealing a short message scrawled across the paper.
“gonna join? - R”
your gaze darted around the classroom, searching for the sender, until you locked eyes with rafayel, who was seated at the center front. heat rose to your cheeks as you quickly stuffed the crumpled note back into your pocket, pursing your lips. you redirected your attention to the unfolded paper plane, hoping to conceal your flustered reaction.
for a brief moment, rafayel’s eyes widened in surprise, a flicker of recognition crossing his features. it dawned on him that the note you hastily concealed was the same one he had written and placed in your bag the day he stumbled upon your sketchbook.
as you exchanged a smile with rafayel, a wave of warmth washed over you, mingled with a tinge of uncertainty about the mysterious note and the unexpected connection it represented.
rafayel couldn’t shake the desire to speak with you directly, to bridge the gap between them rather than relying on secretive notes. but with gour classmates constantly surrounding him, initiating a conversation without drawing attention to you was a challenge.
turning to his friend thomas, rafayel leaned in close, whispering urgently, “hey, can you do me a favor? tell her to meet me at the rooftop during breaktime.”
thomas raised an eyebrow, shooting rafayel a curious look. “what am i, your loyal butler or something? why don’t you just talk to her yourself?”
rafayel sighed, running a hand through his hair in frustration. “i don’t want to make it seem like a big deal, you know? plus, it might be less suspicious if it’s coming from you.”
thomas groaned, shaking his head. “you’re hopeless- really hopeless. but since it appears i have no other choice, i’ll pass on the message. just don’t screw it up, yeah?”
as thomas approached you, confusion was etched on your face as you greeted him awkwardly. “oh- hey... what is it?”
he cracked a small grin, noticing your confusion. “hey there. that insufferable purple-haired guy at the front wanted me to let you know to meet him at the rooftop later during break time," he explained while gesturing towards rafayel, his tone friendly.
your eyes widened slightly at the unexpected message, and you stammered out a reply, “huh? oh, uh, okay. thanks for telling me.”
with a casual wave, thomas returned to rafayel, leaving you in contemplative silence. as your gaze lingered on their interaction, rafayel’s eyes remained fixed on you, adding a layer of intrigue to the message delivered through thomas.
perched on the rooftop, you found solace in the quiet surroundings, immersed in the act of sketching. the image of a sleeping cat with a delicate flower petal atop its head unfolded gracefully on the pages of your sketchbook, each stroke carefully crafted.
lost in your artistic reverie, you failed to sense rafayel's stealthy approach from behind. just as he was poised to startle you with a playful “boo,” your world shattered into chaos as you swung around in alarm, inadvertently smacking him in the face with your sketchbook.
the moment hung in the air, frozen in time, as rafayel recoiled in surprise, his hand instinctively rising to cradle his nose. wide-eyed and mortified, you stammered out an apology, “oh my gosh, rafayel! i-i’m so sorry! i didn’t mean to-”
caught off guard, rafayel playfully teased, “well, that's one way to say hello, isn’t it? didn’t know my face doubled as a notebook magnet.”
you blushed, flustered by the unexpected collision, “i really didn’t mean to hit you, rafayel. sorry...!”
his laughter echoed, resonating with an easygoing charm, “no harm done. i’ve endured worse for a good laugh. besides, it’s about time someone hit me with a notebook- adds a bit of excitement to my day.”
rafayel’s curiosity piqued as he pointed to your sketchbook, asking, “what’s that you’re writing?” you hesitated for a moment, contemplating whether to reveal your secret passion, but his playful curiosity was too infectious to resist. “oh, it’s just some sketches,” you replied softly, flipping through the pages to reveal the drawing of the cat you saw earlier.
rafayel leaned in, genuine curiosity evident in his eyes as he examined the drawing. “whoa... you drew this? that’s really good!”
you felt a rush of relief at his positive reaction, showing him the reference photo you took earlier. “yeah, i saw this cat on my way to school this morning and couldn’t resist sketching it."
his grin widened as he glanced between the drawing and the photo, barely even noticing any differences. “you’ve got some serious talent, you know that?”
feeling awkward at the unexpected compliment, you muttered a shy thank you, feeling a sense of warmth spreading in the midst of your quiet rooftop rendezvous.
“makes me wonder... why aren’t you part of the art club?” not expecting rafayel’s sudden question, you chuckled nervously. “well, you know, i’m just really busy with school and stuff.”
rafayel didn’t seem convinced. “is that really the reason?” he inquired softly, his tone genuine and caring. you hesitated, feeling reluctant. “actually, i’m just... i’m a bit self-conscious about my skills. i don’t really want anyone to find out about it.”
rafayel’s expression softened, understanding evident in his eyes. “may i?” he asked, reaching for your sketchbook. nodding silently, you watched as he flipped through every page, his eyes widening in genuine surprise and admiration. he lingered over each artwork, appreciating the detail and emotion captured in your sketches.
as he closed the sketchbook and placed it back on the ground, he uttered words that struck a sense of familiarity within you.
“the world deserves to witness how talented you are, you know?”
your heart skipped a beat at his words, a memory surfacing of the note you had found in your bag after that day you fell asleep in school. it said the exact same thing. before you could inquire further, rafayel stood up and reached out to you. confused yet intrigued, you took his hand, and without hesitation, he led you on a journey through the school, eventually arriving at the art room.
as you stood there, taking in the familiar sights of the art supplies and canvases, rafayel turned to you with a warm smile. “i thought maybe you could use a little encouragement to share your talent with the world,” he explained softly. you blinked in confusion. “what are we doing here?”
rafayel’s smile was gentle as he took your hand, placing a paintbrush in one and a palette in the other. he led you towards the largest canvas in the room. “what am i supposed to do...?” you inquired, tilting your head in puzzlement.
rafayel’s smile widened as he picked up a paintbrush and palette for himself. “do what you do best,” he replied. “huh?”
with a sense of determination, rafayel painted a bold black line down the center of the canvas, separating it into two distinct halves. “every five minutes, we’ll switch and continue each other’s paintings,” he explained, his voice calm yet full of purpose.
you nodded, intrigued by the challenge, and began your half of the canvas with soft, lighthearted portraits and delicate strokes. your colors were gentle and inviting, focusing on capturing the essence and aura of the subjects with a sense of warmth and innocence.
as the minutes passed, you and rafayel seamlessly switched, each adding your own touches to the other’s work. rafayel’s side of the canvas was a masterpiece of emotion and complexity, with mesmerizing details and layers of meaning poured into every stroke.
“you’re quite the artist, you know,” rafayel remarked as he added a flourish to your portrait, his tone praising. you blushed at the compliment, unsure how to respond.
somewhere in the middle of the exchange, rafayel not-so-accidentally brushed a small portion of paint onto your cheek. “oops, my hand slipped-”
and so did yours, it appears, as you left a mark of paint on his nose. you stifled a chuckle as you feigned innocence, “um, sorry,” you murmured, your voice soft yet sarcastic.
rafayel laughed, his eyes sparkling with mischief. “congrats- you’ve officially caught me off guard!” he teased, his tone lighthearted.
as the playful exchange continued, each stroke of paint serving as a reminder of your shared connection, you couldn’t help but feel a warmth spreading in your chest. it was as if, in this moment, you were shedding your inhibitions and embracing the joy of simply being yourself around rafayel.
and as the final touches were added and you both stepped back to admire the masterpiece you had created together, you couldn’t help but feel a sense of pride and accomplishment. little did you know, as you looked at the painting, rafayel was looking at you with admiration in his eyes, captivated by the quiet strength and beauty he saw reflected in you.
"so, about that note...” you began tentatively, but rafayel cut you off with a nonchalant, “yeah, that was me,” accompanied by a shrug and a playful grin.
“you...?” surprise tinged your voice as you glanced at him, and rafayel nodded with a hint of mischief, pointing to himself.
“i mean, seriously though, you’re really talented. if you joined the club, you could totally be running the show instead of me,” rafayel suggested, his tone a blend of sincerity and teasing.
“i can’t tell if you’re trying to flatter me or if you’re trying to recruit a new member for your club...” you replied with a small chuckle, earning a grin from rafayel.
“oh, come on, i’ve already got a bunch of members, most of whom couldn’t care less about art. it’s a bit frustrating, to be honest- it’s like they’re not even there to appreciate the beauty of art in the first place,” rafayel lamented, rolling his eyes in mock exasperation.
“maybe they’re just there for you,” you offered, watching as rafayel nodded in acknowledgment, his expression thoughtful. “it’s not as glamorous as it seems, you know? being popular means you’re always in the spotlight, whether you like it or not. it’s exhausting,” rafayel admitted with a sigh, his frustration evident.
“so, that’s the price of popularity...” you mused, feeling a pang of sympathy for rafayel’s predicament.
“that’s why you caught my eye. you never seemed to crave that attention, and i found that refreshing.” rafayel confessed, his tone softening as he opened up to you. “i wanted to get to know someone who saw me for me, not just as who i’m made out to be.”
“huh?” you murmured, feeling a mix of confusion and curiosity at his words.
“i’ve always admired how you kept to yourself, not letting the whole popularity thing affect you. it made me want to know more about you,” rafayel explained, his gaze holding a hint of something deeper that intrigued you.
“so... what do you mean?” you asked, your curiosity piqued by rafayel’s candid confession. he sighed, running a hand through his hair as he considered his words. “y’know, it’s just... these days, it feels like everyone is so caught up in their social status, popularity, reputation, you name it. and despite never wanting to be, i’ve been pushed into the center of all that because of the way people are way too interested in my life,” he explained, his voice tinged with frustration.
“people like you, who are genuine and don’t use others as stepping stones to become popular, are rare.” rafayel continued, his gaze meeting yours with sincerity. “your presence feels like a breath of fresh air in a world where everyone is so focused on climbing the social ladder.”
oh. “i never expected someone to see me that way...” you admitted, your eyes meeting rafayel’s with a mixture of surprise and gratitude. his expression softened as he listened, his gaze filled with understanding. “i guess we both had our assumptions about each other,” he mused.
you nodded in agreement, a faint smile tugging at the corners of your lips. “the reason why i least expected you to be the one who put that note in my bag was because i always felt like we orbited in separate galaxies," you admitted, and rafayel listened carefully.
“it was as if you stood under the sun, whereas i found solace in the dark. i’ve always admired the way you easily socialized and blended in with the crowd, wishing it was something i could do, too.”
rafayel’s eyes widened slightly in surprise at your words, and you felt a rush of nerves at having laid bare your innermost thoughts to him. but as you saw the understanding and empathy in his gaze, you knew you had made the right decision in sharing your feelings with him.
“but now, knowing your perspective regarding your popularity, i feel like my perspective has just changed as a whole,” you added, your voice soft but earnest.
“maybe we’re not as different as we thought, huh?” he said, an amused expression on his face as he suddenly took your hand and held it within his gentle grasp.
“huh...? i...” to say you were at a loss for words and had no idea what to feel over the sudden gesture would be a huge understatement. it didn’t help that holding your hand seemed to be something casual to rafayel, either. “i guess...” you trailed off, looking down on the ground to avoid his gaze.
the familiar ringing of the school bells echoed across the walls of the empty art room yet again, cutting your conversation short – like it always did. yet this time, you were grateful for it. had it not interrupted both of you, you’d be a stammering mess by now.
rafayel let go of your hand, putting one of his hands in his pocket. “i’ll see your name somewhere at the art exhibit, then?” he tilted his head, sending you a wink before heading out, leaving you all by yourself as you looked at the large canvas in front of you once more.
perhaps grabbing an opportunity standing right in front of you wouldn’t be so bad, just this once.
—
it had been three nights. three nights of you frustratingly ripping pages off of your sketchbook simply because your ideas kept clashing with each other everytime you laid it out on the pieces of paper sprawled out in front of you. your artworks were merely a product of your own will – none of which were required for a specific occasion, at least not until now.
love.
how were you supposed to convey the meaning of a feeling you weren’t sure you have ever felt in your entire life? not even the romance books stacked up in your shelves could make up for an inspiration. within each tick of the clock, the day of the art exhibit kept inching closer, making you dread every passing second.
letting out a frustrated sigh as you laid your head down on your study table, you were no longer sure if you still wanted to participate in the event anymore. maybe you should’ve just shut down rafayel’s expectations of you partaking in the art exhibit while it was still early – hold on.
that was it. that was exactly it. if you needed to seek guidance from someone whose field of expertise is art, there was no longer a necessity for searching all over your surroundings – the answer was already right in front of you.
you weren’t sure when his contact number got on your phone, but you were grateful for it nonetheless – maybe he added it during your collaboration in the art room while your attention was focused on something else. dialing the number, you waited patiently for him to pick up as you bit the inside of your cheek.
“what up, buttercup?”
the unexpected lowering of the pitch of his voice, void of its usual sarcasm and sass, caught you off guard. it carried a hint of raspiness, a sign he might have been roused from sleep. and suddenly, regaining composure became a priority for you.
“oh- did i interrupt your sleep? i’m sorry, i’ll-” he was quick to cut you off from the other line, immediately brushing off your concern. “nah, don’t worry about it. what’s gotten you all up late in the night, though?” he asked curiously.
“um, well, you see,” you stammered, struggling to articulate your frustration. “regarding the art exhibit event you and your club launched... i just can’t seem to find the right way to express... love,” you confessed, your voice barely above a whisper.
rafayel’s curiosity piqued. “why’s that?” he inquired gently, sensing the weight behind your words. “i don’t know,” you admitted, feeling a pang of embarrassment. “it’s just... how do you convey a feeling you’ve never experienced?”
there was a brief silence on the other end of the line before rafayel spoke again, his voice softer than before. “you mean... you’ve never fallen in love before?” he asked, a hint of surprise evident in his tone.
reluctantly, you confirmed his assumption with a quiet nod, even though he couldn’t see you. rafayel let out a soft sigh, the sound conveying both understanding and reassurance.
truth be told, that was the last thing he had expected to hear from you – but then again, the world’s always full of surprises, isn’t it?
“hey, no shame in that, yeah? we’ll find a way for you,” he said gently. “meet me tomorrow morning at linkon tower?”
your heart fluttered at the prospect of his help, and you agreed eagerly, grateful for his support. “okay,” you replied, a sense of relief washing over you. “thank you, rafayel...”
“anything for you.”
—
as you stood waiting in front of linkon tower, the morning breeze tousling your hair, you couldn't help but feel a flutter of nerves in your stomach. the anticipation of meeting rafayel was both exhilarating and nerve-wracking, and you found yourself fidgeting with the strap of your bag as you scanned the area.
suddenly, you spotted rafayel running towards you,an apologetic expression on his face and two cups of coffee in his hands. “fashionably late, as always,” he quipped, his tone light as he caught his breath.
you couldn’t help but smile at his teasing remark, a mixture of relief and amusement washing over you. “i was starting to think you’d gotten lost in the crowd...”
rafayel chuckled, a twinkle in his eyes as he approached you. “nah, just had to battle my way through the caffeine-deprived masses,” he replied, holding out one of the cups of coffee to you. “one caramel latte, just how you like it- hopefully.”
you accepted the coffee with a grateful smile, feeling a warmth spreading through you at his thoughtfulness. “oh- for me? thank you...!” you said softly, taking a sip of the steaming beverage.
he flashed you a charming grin, the corners of his eyes crinkling with amusement. “no need to thank me at all. like i said last night- anything for you, right?”
blushing at his words, you couldn’t help but feel a need to change the topic. “so... what's the plan for today?” you asked, eager to find out what creative ideas Rafayel had in mind.
he shrugged casually, taking a sip of his own coffee. “well, i thought we could take a stroll around the park, soak in some inspiration from nature,” he suggested, his tone relaxed. “unless you have any other brilliant ideas up your sleeve?”
you shook your head with a shy smile, feeling grateful for the way he took the lead. “no, that sounds perfect,” you replied, falling into step beside him as you set off towards the nearby park. as you walked, the gentle chatter between you and rafayel filled the air, the warmth of the morning sun casting a golden glow over your skin.
while taking your time to admire your surroundings, your eyes then caught sight of a cat sitting on a bench. gasping in awe, you couldn’t help but to tug on the sleeve of his cardigan, immediately pointing to it- and the next thing you knew was he was practically holding onto you for dear life, looking at the creature with a horrified expression on his face.
you stifled a chuckle, not expecting the sudden action from rafayel out of all people. “rafayel, are you, perhaps... scared of cats?” you tilted your head, waiting for an answer. “scared? hah, please, like i’d ever- get it away from me!”
you held up the cat in front of him, laughing as you watched him hurriedly take a few steps back. he was about to completely turn his back to you in fear of getting scratched by the feline’s claws, but it wasn’t until he came to realization that this was the first time he has ever heard you laugh – all he’s ever heard from you were short giggles and stifled chuckles.
he admired you in awe without even realization dawning upon him that he was, staring at you as you kept inching the cat closer to him. “you do know it’s more afraid of us than we are of it, right?”
your voice pulled him out of the bottom of his thoughts, making him flinch slightly as he tried to play off the fact he just called you beautiful in his head.
he feigned offense, placing a hand over his heart in mock indignation. “oh, please, don’t underestimate the cunning behavior of these creatures,” he replied with a smirk. “they may look innocent, but behind those whiskers lie a mastermind plotting world domination.”
you couldn’t help but find his dramatic antis childish, yet couldn’t suppress your laughter. “alright, fine, i’ll handle this dangerous mission myself," you joked, putting the cat back down on the ground.
as you practically dragged Rafayel towards the ice cream parlor, his laughter echoed through the air. “woah, slow down! i didn’t know it was possible to love ice cream this much.” he remarked, amusement all over his eyes.
you flashed him a bright smile in return. “don’t we all?” you replied, unable to contain your excitement as you joined the line behind a group of eager kids. while waiting for your turn, the sweet aroma of freshly made ice cream filled the air, making your mouth almost water in anticipation. rafayel observed your enthusiasm with a fond smile, clearly amused by your excitement.
finally, it was your turn to order, and you wasted no time selecting a combination of three of your favorite flavors. as the server handed you your towering cone, you struggled to balance it in your hands, wanting not to let a single scoop go to waste.
rafayel chuckled at your efforts. “looks like you’ve got your hands full there,” he teased, buying the same flavors you had chosen. “i’ll have the same, just in case yours decides to take a tumble.”
—
while you and rafayel were strolling along, you stumbled upon an old vendor selling flowers. the vendor greeted both of you warmly, a twinkle of nostalgia in his eyes. “one for your lovely lady, sir?” he asked, gesturing towards you with a knowing smile. yet before you could interject and clarify that you weren't a couple, rafayel was quick to respond, his voice charming. “i’ll have a bouquet, if you may,” he said with a playful wink, catching you off guard.
“huh? rafayel, you-” his actions caught you by surprise, making you stumble over your words. yet even if you wanted to clarify your relationship with rafayel to the old man, you found yourself not doing so, having a feeling that no matter how you tried to deny it, rafayel would eventually find a way to brush your reasonings off. and you weren’t even sure why he’d do such a thing- you just knew he would.
as the vendor handed rafayel a beautiful bouquet, he offered a nostalgic reflection. “ah young love. you two remind me of me and my wife during the days we were still young... I hope the best for both of you,” he said with heartfelt sincerity.
rafayel played along effortlessly, nodding in agreement. “i hope so too, sir.” he replied with a grin, accepting the bouquet with a flourish.
as you both walked away from the vendor, you couldn't help but be confused at the unexpected exchange. before you could question rafayel about his actions, he leaned into the playful act even further, bowing theatrically in front of you.
“for you, my lady.” he said with mock formality, offering you the bouquet with a mischievous hint in his eyes. you couldn’t suppress a laugh as you accepted the flowers. “well... while, thank you, kind sir,” you tried to reply with equal playfulness, making rafayel laugh in response.
—
inside the arcade, the bright lights and buzzing sounds of the games immediately filled the air, igniting a sense of excitement within you both. making your way to the claw machine, rafayel insisted on taking the first turn, his determination evident in the way he eagerly inserted coins and maneuvered the claw.
you watched with amusement while he focused intently on the task at hand, heavily concentrated as he attempted to win you a plushie. but despite his persistence, the claw came up empty-handed each time, much to his dismay.
as the claw machine swallowed another round of coins, rafayel’s competitive spirit seemed undeterred. “alright, watch closely,” he declared while positioning the claw with precision. you couldn't help but admire his persistence, even as the plushie continued to escape his grasp. “you’ve got this,” you encouraged him, unable to contain a smile at his unwavering focus.
but as the claw went down for yet another attempt, rafayel’s expression shifted from confidence to disbelief as it once again came up empty. “what?! how did i miss that?!” he exclaimed, his frustration evident as he shook his head in disbelief.
with each failed attempt, rafayel’s facade of confidence began to crack, replaced by exaggerated frustration and protests. “this machine is rigged, i’m telling you!” he exclaimed, throwing his hands up in exasperation. “it’s like it’s got a personal vendetta against me or something.”
you couldn’t help but giggle at his theatrics. “um, maybe you should let me have a go at it?” you suggested, feeling a rush of nervousness as rafayel turned to look at you. he raised an eyebrow challengingly, a playful glint in his eyes. “oh, you think you can do any better, huh?” he teased, already stepping aside to let you take your turn.
with a small smile, you approached the machine, trying to ignore the butterflies fluttering in your stomach. as you focused on the task at hand, you couldn't help but feel rafayel’s eyes on you, his presence both comforting and slightly unnerving at the same time. you maneuvered the claw into position, holding your breath as you watched it go down towards the plushie of your choice. and then, with a satisfying clink, the claw closed around the prize, lifting it triumphantly into the air.
you couldn’t contain your joy as you retrieved the plushie from the machine, holding it up for rafayel to see with a huge smile. “i did it!” you celebrated enthusiastically, feeling a warm flush spreading across your cheeks as rafayel grinned at you, his eyes sparkling with amusement.
“incredible!” rafayel exclaimed, his tone filled with mock astonishment. “i’ve officially been defeated by the claw machine champion.”
—
as the afternoon came to an end, while the sun painted the city in hues of gold, rafayel casually inquired, “so, where do you live?” your head tilted in puzzlement, not quite catching what he meant until he clarified, “i’m gonna walk you home.”
you felt your heart flutter, your cheeks warming at the unexpected offer. “oh, um, it’s not far from here...” you responded, a smile tugging at your lips. rafayel’s grin widened, his gaze softening as he gestured for you to lead the way. “lead the way then, my dear companion,” he teased, falling into step beside you as you started walking.
as you walked through the familiar streets, a comfortable silence enveloped you both. yet, it was rafayel who broke it, his voice carrying a playful lilt. “sooo, did you enjoy our little date today?” he asked, his tone light yet filled with genuine curiosity.
a small chuckle escaped your lips as you nodded, feeling a warmth spreading through you. “of course i did. thank you for spending the day with me, rafayel...” you replied, stealing a glance at him.
it seems as if the fact he called it a date completely went over your head – and could anyone blame you if you were just happy enough to spend the day with him that you no longer cared whether it was a friendly date or something else?
rafayel’s smile softened, his gaze lingering on you for a moment longer than usual. “anytime.” he said, his voice filled with sincerity. “we should definitely do this again sometime.”
you felt a flutter in your chest at his words, your heart skipping a beat as you nodded in agreement. “yeah... i’d like that.” you agreed softly, a shy smile creeping up your lips. the walk continued, each step bringing you closer to your destination.
—
you two stood in front of your apartment building, and as you bid farewell to each other, you waved at him with a close-eyed smile.
rafayel swore his heart had never raced faster than it did now.
just as you were about to walk away, he held you back by your wrist, halting your movements. “wait.” you took a step back. “rafayel...?” you tilted your head in confusion as you turned to face him. his hand was still holding onto your wrist, and as he stood there, holding your wrist gently, an unreadable emotion in his eyes. He cleared his throat, “i was going to wait until the art exhibit event was over to say this to you, but... screw that. i don’t think i can wait any longer.”
“what do you mean...?” you asked, not quite getting what he was implying.
“well,” he began, his voice no longer laced with his trademark sarcasm. “i’ve got a confession to make.” He paused, taking a deep breath as he gathered his thoughts, his gaze never leaving you. “from the moment i first saw you sleeping at the very back of the classroom while everyone was busy talking in separate groups, something inside me shifted. it was as if the universe intended to bring us together, to intertwine our lives in a way that i couldn't comprehend at the time.”
your heart skipped a beat at his words, curiosity mingling with anticipation as you waited for him to continue. “you see,“ rafayel went on, his tone softening ever so slightly. “i never knew why i felt so drawn to you that day even though i didn’t even know anything about you- there was just something about you that made stare at you a little longer than i was supposed to.” he paused, a smile playing at the corners of his lips as he recalled the countless times he had looked behind to see whether you were gazing out the window, writing down notes, or sleeping.
“you know, i’ve spent all this time trying to figure out why you just seemed to be so different from everyone else in my eyes. and maybe you’re wondering why- but that’s the thing. neither do i know.” you listened, captivated by the sincerity in his words, the layers of his personality laying bare before you.
“and then it hit me.”
rafayel continued, a warmth spreading through his chest as he spoke. “i’ve watched you, admired you, in ways that i can’t quite put into words- way before i even saw your sketchbook lying down on the ground.” rafayel confessed, his voice barely above a whisper. “getting to know you even further with each passing day from then on was the nail in the coffin, you know? as i got to know you better through time, i just- the next thing i knew was i wanted to have more excuses to spend time with you.” he ran his hands through his hair, a soft expression on his face as you listened with surprise.
“your kindness, your warmth, your quiet strength, the way you’re always trying to view every circumstance you come across in a positive light, the way you’re... you. they’ve captivated me in ways i never thought possible.” you listened, your heart racing with his words, the air heavy with the weight of the unspoken. he took a deep breath, his gaze never leaving you.
“i don’t even know when, how, and why i started feeling this way. all i knew the moment i first heard you chuckle quietly at the back of the class that one time thomas and i were arguing over which of our answers to the equation mr. nero wrote on the board- neither were correct, by the way- was that if it ever became louder, i wanted to be the reason behind it.”
“you’re making it so hard for me not to fall for you, and as i stand in front of you now, i’m proudly declaring that i’ll be admitting my defeat.”
as rafayel’s words hung in the air, you stood there in disbelief, finding it hard to make his words sink in. and then it all came crashing down on you. the overwhelming surge of happiness you felt when you were adding your own touches on his artwork that one day at the art room wasn’t just a feeling of being glad you were finally able to express your talent in a way that isn’t scribbling on your sketchbook – it was because the feeling of being comfortable with letting your guard down around someone who wasn’t tara was an unfamiliar yet great experience for you.
the reason why you always found yourself staring at him in class wasn’t because you were curious as to how popular people like him lived their lives; you weren’t curious about his lifestyle, but rather... you were curious about him as a person.
“rafayel,” you whispered, your voice barely audible above the rustle of the leaves. “i... i never knew... i never dared to hope...” but before you could finish, rafayel reached out, cupping your face in his hands, his touch gentle yet electrifying. “you don’t have to. just... let yourself loose, yeah?” rafayel’s gaze softens, his hand still gently holding yours as he waits patiently for you to gather your thoughts.
“it’s just... it’s a lot to take in.” you finally manage, your cheeks flushing with embarrassment as you admit your struggle to process his heartfelt confession. “but...” you pause, biting your lip nervously as you try to find the courage to voice the thoughts racing through your mind.
“but what?” rafayel prompts gently, his eyes filled with warmth and understanding. “it’s just... everything makes sense now,” you confess, your words tumbling out in a rush as you finally allow yourself to let out the thoughts you had buried deep inside.
“that day in the art room, when we were working on that huge canvas, i thought i was just happy to be able to express myself through art... but now i realize it was more than that. it was the feeling of being comfortable with someone other than tara, of letting my guard down and just... being myself without having to afraid of being judged.”
rafayel listened intently, his expression softening with each word you speak. “and in class, when i would find myself staring at you... i always thought it was just curiosity about how someone like you lived their life. but now i see it was something more. i was curious about you as a person, and whatever you were hiding beneath your usual personality, i just... i wanted to know all about it.”
“i don’t know when, how, or why it all started either, but... all i know right now is that... i want to be with you, rafayel.”
a blush crept across your cheeks as you finished speaking, your gaze dropping to the ground as you awaited rafayel’s response. but before you can look up, you feel his hand gently lifting your chin, his eyes meeting yours with a warmth that sent shivers down your spine. “you know...” he said softly, his voice filled with an emotion you couldn’t quite place. “i’m glad you feel that way. because... well, because I've been feeling the same way about you for a long time now- if that wasn’t obvious already.”
as the weight of your shared confessions hangs in the air, there’s a palpable tension between you and rafayel. slowly, almost hesitantly, he leans in closer, his breath mingling with yours as his lips hover just inches from yours.
your heart races in your chest, a nervous feeling fluttering spreading through your stomach as you anticipate what’s about to happen. and then, in a moment that feels both infinitely long and short at the same time, his lips finally meet yours.
it’s soft at first, a gentle brush of his lips against yours, sending a jolt of electricity coursing through your veins. but then, as the realization sinks in that this is your very first kiss, the sensation intensifies. his lips mold perfectly against yours, fitting together like two puzzle pieces finally finding their match. there’s a warmth that spreads from the point of contact, igniting a fire deep within you that you never knew existed.
as the kiss deepens, you find yourself melting into him, losing yourself in the sensation of his lips moving against yours. his hands find their way to your waist, pulling you closer until there’s barely any space left between you. time seems to stand still as you lose yourself in the moment, the world around you fading away until there’s nothing left but the two of you and the overwhelming rush of emotion coursing through your veins.
and then, as the kiss came to an end, you’re left breathless, your heart pounding in your chest as you finally pull away, your lips tingling with the memory of his touch.
“rafayel, i...” you mumble, cheeks ablaze with a crimson hue that refused to fade. he chuckled warmly, his hand ruffling your hair affectionately. “you’re too cute when you’re flustered, you know that?”
your response came out as a nervous stutter, your words stumbling over each other as you try to process the rush of emotions flooding through you. he gently pinches your cheeks, eliciting a short laugh from you. “hey now, none of that,” he playfully scolds, a playful sparkle swirling in his eyes. “unless you want me to die or something.”
you blush even deeper at his teasing, unable to find a clever retort. instead, you offer a sheepish smile, your heart fluttering at his words. as you bid farewell once more, the memory of his kiss still lingering on your lips, you turn to head inside the apartment building. but before you do, you steal one last glance back at rafayel, waving at him with a shy smile.
he returns the gesture, a soft smile gracing his features as he watches you disappear inside, leaving you with a fluttering heart and a head full of thoughts of him.
—
you lay on your bed, cheeks still flushed with the warmth of the kiss and your heart pounding with excitement. unable to contain your bubbling emotions, you bury your face in your pillow and let out a muffled squeal, the rush of adrenaline coursing through your veins.
just as you start to calm yourself down, your phone’s notification jingle breaks the silence, causing your heart to skip a beat. with trembling hands, you grab your phone and glance at the lockscreen, where a message from Rafayel awaits.
“looking forward to seeing ur art exhibit project ;)”
your cheeks flushed even deeper at his message, a smile tugging at the corners of your lips. you quickly unlock your phone and type a reply, fingers flying over the screen as you try to contain your excitement.
“i guess you weren't lying when you said i’d head home with a newfound inspiration... ～(つˆДˆ)つ｡☆”
on the other side of the screen, rafayel chuckled softly at your message, finding the kaomoji you sent along with it absolutely adorable. with a smile, he typed out his reply, reminiscing about the intimate moment you shared earlier before parting ways.
“see? that’s why it’s always the best choice to trust me in every possible situation.”
he replied, his message feigning smugness. you couldn’t help but giggle at his response, feeling a warm flutter in your chest at his playful demeanor.
“as much as i want to talk to you for longer, i still have to get my art exhibit project finished (╥﹏╥)”
rafayel’s lips curled into a small smile as he read your message.
“why not go to sleep now? we can always talk more tomorrow, yeah?”
and despite the simplicity of his suggestion, you couldn’t resist the urge to internally scream with excitement.
—
while they strolled through the venue, thomas couldn’t resist teasing rafayel about his frequent glances towards the entrance. with an amused smirk, he nudged rafayel, arching an eyebrow in curiosity.
“looking for someone, raf?” rafayel’s response was casual, though his eyes betrayed a hint of anticipation. “just curious if she’s made it here yet.” thomas followed rafayel’s line of sight, scanning the bustling crowd. “haven’t seen her around yet,” he responded. rafayel continued to scan the room, his gaze lingering on each passing figure in search of a familiar face.
meanwhile, as you hurried into the venue, tara spotted you and dashed over, enveloping you in a tight hug. “hey, where have you been? you’re late!” you chuckled sheepishly, “i may or may not have overslept...” tara only pinched your cheek, seemingly unsurprised by your response.
“also- there’s that one painting over there that everyone’s been admiring for a while now, and the art style seemed very familiar to me... that one’s yours, right? please say it is!” tara’s eyes sparkled with excitement. with a shy smile, you nodded. “yeah, i finally decided to share my work...” tara squealed in delight, squeezing you even tighter as she practically squealed in your ear how proud she was of you.
as she guided you through the crowd to your painting, you couldn’t help but feel a rush of nerves. but when your eyes met rafayel’s across the room, a wave of warmth washed over you, calming your nerves. tara caught your eye contact with rafayel, turning to you with a puzzled expression. “do you two know each other?” she asked, her curiosity piqued.
you nodded shyly, a hint of a smile playing on your lips. tara’s expression shifted from confusion to surprise in an instant. “wait, don’t tell me... he’s the anonymous person behind that note you found in your bag, isn’t he?” she exclaimed, her eyes widening in realization.
with a knowing smile, you simply nodded, causing tara to gasp in disbelief. “oh my gosh! no way! are you sure you’re not living in a shoujo manga?” she teased, her excitement evident in her voice. but underneath her teasing, you could sense her genuine happiness for you.
meanwhile, thomas noticed rafayel’s gaze fixed on you and couldn’t resist nudging him with a smirk. “there’s your girl, go get her.” he teased, earning an eye-roll from rafayel.
as they both approached you and tara, the lingering memory of yesterday’s kiss remained fresh in your minds – and it was painfully obvious with the way you two were stumbling over your own words. thomas couldn’t contain his laughter. “look at rafayel all flustered...” he chuckled, thoroughly amused by his friend’s uncharacteristic behavior.
tara, on the other hand, was practically squealing with delight at the romantic encounter unfolding before her eyes. “they’re so cute together...!” she whispered to herself, barely able to contain her excitement.
sensing the need for some privacy, thomas grabbed rafayel’s attention, patting his shoulder. “i’ll go ahead and check the other artworks.” tara quickly followed suit, declaring her sudden need to visit the bathroom, leaving you and rafayel alone in front of your painting.
as the curious gazes of the surrounding students lingered on the two of you, rafayel turned to you with genuine interest. “so, are those lovers in each petal supposed to represent us?” he asked, his tone filled with curiosity as he pointed to a petal that had a painting of two people eating ice cream.
you nodded, feeling a rush of warmth at his question. “yeah... i painted each scene with us in mind.” you admitted, feeling a bit shy but also strangely exhilarated by his interest. rafayel’s eyes shone with appreciation as he examined the beautiful details of your artwork. “wow, you’re really...” he murmured, his voice filled with genuine admiration as he seemed to be out of words. “you have such an amazing talent, you know that?”
you couldn’t help but smile at his heartfelt comment, feeling a surge of confidence in your abilities. “you think so...?”
“know so.”
“i swear, one day my lighthearted jokes about you being the next president of the art club will come true to life. i wouldn’t even be surprised, you know?” he teased, flashing you a charming grin that made your heart skip a beat.
as you and rafayel left your painting behind to explore the other artworks, the eyes of the gathered students followed your every move. some watched in surprise, their eyebrows raised in curiosity as you were engaged in a conversation with rafayel. others couldn’t contain their excitement, their voices tinted with squeals of delight as they observed the unlikely dynamic between the two of you.
“oh my gosh, look at them! they’re so adorable together...” one girl whispered to her friend, nudging her with an elbow as she pointed discreetly at the two of you. “i know, right? who would’ve thought they’d make such a cute couple?” her friend replied, her eyes sparkling with excitement.
“did you see the way he looked at her? it’s like she’s the only one in the room!” one of them remarked, her heart fluttering at the sight. “and she’s glowing! i’ve never seen someone look so beautiful before.” another girl added, a sense of joy evident in her tone as she observed your interaction with rafayel.
nearby, a group of boys exchanged knowing glances, their expressions filled with admiration for rafayel’s ability to break through your shell. “man, rafayel’s really got it going on with her.” one of them remarked, a hint of admiration in his voice as he watched you two interact.
“yeah, but look at her, she’s holding her own too. rafayel’s really lucky, isn’t he?” another boy added, nodding approvingly as he watched you converse with rafayel. "have you ever seen anyone as radiant as her?” one of them whispered, captivated by your presence.
“she’s like a living artwork herself.” another remarked, admiring the way you seemed to bring color and life to the atmosphere surrounding both you and rafayel.
“i heard she’s the one behind that stunning painting. makes sense, she’s got such a creative aura about her, doesn’t she?” a third boy commented, impressed by your artistic talents and the way you expressed yourself through your work.
as the crowd’s whispers of admiration reached your ears, rafayel couldn’t help but grin, turning to you with a proud gleam in his eyes. “you hear that?” he said softly, his voice filled with genuine admiration. “told you the world deserves to witness how talented you are.”
you felt a warm flush of gratitude spread through you at his words, grateful for his unwavering support. with a shy smile, you nodded, feeling a newfound sense of confidence blooming within you. “thank you, rafayel- for everything, really.” you whispered, feeling a surge of appreciation for the boy who had helped you break out of your shell and embrace your true potential.
and you’ll forever be grateful for having him in your life.
♡ , cupidswan.
#love : aerith 💌#love and deepspace#love and deepspace x reader#rafayel love and deepspace#rafayel x reader#rafayel#l&ds rafayel#rafayel fluff#lnd x reader#lnds#l&ds x reader#l&ds
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re: my thoughts on laios’s sexuality (long post ahead lol)
let me start this post with this. first, this contains a lot of references to the new adventurer’s bible world guide book released last february. i can read japanese, but i’m sure they’re translated somewhere. general spoiler warning in case. also… i am ESL, so sorry for any grammar errors
second, if you’re on the team that insists laios doesn’t care about humans enough to form relationships, either read the manga again or at the very least read this thread.
last, please don’t chime in with your acearo headcanons on this post. there’s already a majority of posts here that insist laios is acearo and that anything else is impossible. i don’t like it the same way i don’t like when someone declares they hc marcille as bisexual to a poster who reads her as lesbian. i already have enough people here who declare he’s ace on my own art. at least people on twitter of all places don’t do this sort of thing to me. nothing in this manga is canon, you can headcanon anything i won’t get mad if you hc him as bi or something. just. don’t be weird on my post.
okay. trust me, i love women, and i love the idea of making my favs women lovers but the idea of laios being gay really appeals to me because of his background. this isn’t fueled by yaoi since i don’t even ship the only m/m relationship i bring up here, i just think it adds a nice layer to his disconnect with his own humanity
i do think laios has a very abstract relationship with his sexuality for a multitude of reasons. he grew up in a very conservative backwater village. he has a hard time recognizing his own feelings towards others just as much as vice versa. i don’t really care for the “laios is a monsterfucker” agenda people are pushing but i do think he’d engage in sexual thoughts in his own weird way, i won’t deny his deviantart fetish shit
as an autistic person myself, i relate to how he’d prioritize his special interest over social interactions. after all, he was fixated on monster food so he’s distracted from dark thoughts. he’s not an actual glutton
he’s shy around women, but i don’t think it’s out of attraction. i just think it’s because he’s awkward and doesn’t want to be seen as a threat. there’s a couple of times when, out of armor, he deliberately tries to make himself look smaller and nonthreatening.
he didn’t show any interest towards ashivia (the hubby hunter girl marcille replaced) and just humored her because she wouldn’t leave him alone. his other party members thought he was giving her special treatment so he had to tell her he “doesnt want to give her special treatment anymore”(even though he never did), so she left
ashivia did her best to butter herself up to laios and he didn’t care, but laios thought shuro was his bestest friend in the whole world because he was too much of a pushover to reject him. ironically… what ashivia did to him parallels what he was doing to shuro
also… yeah sorry i keep bringing up that one comic of laios saying if he were falin he’d marry shuro and then begging him to take him back to his country, or that comic of laios wondering why he doesn’t like him(and then the first two questions he asks the magic mirror was what if he or shuro were women). i don’t even ship them! but it’s not a reach to assume that he likes men because of this, even if it’s kinda played like a joke(after all,a lot of people like chilshi even though their ‘shippy’ interaction was played as a joke)
of course, given the setting, i don’t think knows he’s gay, he wouldn’t have the vocabulary to label himself. i do want to dance around with the idea of him forcibly confronting his own sexuality after years of yaad pressuring him to produce heirs lol. laios might not be cishet but he’s a king so he rdgaf about that right now. i’m open to him having female consorts for political reasons, but i don’t think he’s into women, is all.
before anyone brings up his succubus… god forbid an author makes hetbait. a part of the plot twist was that not-marcille wasn’t the only succubus enticing laios, his other party members were copied too. she was the only one who approached him. also… succubi aren’t always inherently romantic. once it realized marcille didn’t work, it switched to appeal to his desire to be a monster.
#laios isn’t even in my top 3 fav but i gotta throw this out to the void#dungeon meshi meta#laios touden#dungeon meshi#dungeon meshi spoilers#kabru sexuality is easy cuz that dude is capital B Bisexual but laios has layers to it i feel
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Howdy, Support! I'm a 22yo twink working at a rest stop in the middle of nowhere. Only good part about my job is uh..."servicing" the passing truckers. One of 'em is a real beast of a man; late thirties, tall, burly and hairy, with a big, solid beer/roid gut that's always straining against his filthy tanktop. Everytime he stops by, we have a beer shotgun contest right in front of everyone. Loser blows the winner in the stalls. I normally enjoy losing (not that I have a choice), but this time, I want him to meet his match...literally!
I want to drink him under the table, and with each beer I down, I want to feel my gut grow heavier and larger as my work clothes turn into a stained tanktop and I gradually transform into a hulking, hairy trucker that stinks of sweat, just like him. I've programmed all the relevant settings for height, muscle, hair, BO, attitude and clothing, but I just realized I don't know how to sync the transformation to an event trigger like shotgunning the beers, much less on how to make it gradual! Please help me, he's due today!
I love challenges… First of all, I'll add one more skill to your traits. "Stable up to 3.5 per mille". I don't know how much your crush can take. But now you've got a damn good chance of drinking the guy under the table. However, you should manage at least 2.0 per mille. Because your transformation will take place in parallel with your blood alcohol level. Linear, until you have reached 2.0 per mille. At 2.0 per mille, the transformation is complete.
It's around 8 p.m. when your buddy finally comes in the door. Like you said: a beast of a man. The fist bump he gives you almost breaks your forearm bones. Beast of a man? You're miles or 2.0 per mille away from that. You are cute. But a twink. Not a man.
The regulars know what to expect. They chant "Booze! Booze! Booze!" One of them shouts that you're in desperate need of a protein shot. The others roar. Your buddy orders 20 cans of beer. He shouts to his colleagues that there will definitely be some left for them. He looks at you, winks and licks his lips. He has no idea.
The first can of beer. It really hits you. 0.3 per mille. One seventh of your way gone in one go. You feel a bit dizzy. You've been king of the highway for two years now. Well, maybe prince of the highway. You haven't put much weight on your ribs yet. But the good food at the truck stops and the hard work loading your truck are already having a bit of an effect. Your arms are no longer as thin as twigs.
The second beer. It didn't go quite so quickly. You have to burp loudly. Your buddy follows your example. 0.56 per mille. You've been driving your 7.5-ton baby through the countryside for over three and a half years. Does you good. Not as skinny as you used to be. You look healthy. Maybe a little red in the face. Drunk.
After the third beer you have over 0.8 per mille. Another burp. You need a piss. You stand with your legs apart in front of the urinal to avoid peeing on your boots. You take out your cheesy beauty from your dirty jockstraps. And empty your bulging bladder. Wash your hands? That's for twinks. You simply wipe your hands on your dirty Wranglers.
Janet brings you some onion rings with your beer. Good idea. After the toilet break, you finish your fourth beer almost in one go. Your buddy has noticeable problems. Your blood alcohol level is over 1.0 per mille. This competition between you and your colleague has been going on for about seven years. In the trucker scene, your competitions are small highlights. As soon as it is clear when and where you will next get drunk under the table and then disappear to the stalls, new routes are planned. Service stations know that you'll bring in good sales and are keen to host the competition. There used to be a lot of betting on winning and losing. Your buddy has been unbeaten for seven years. There's not much betting anymore. The odds on you winning are huge. But nobody expects that anyway.
The next beer. At 1.26 per mille, you start to falter. Your buddy weighs a few more kilograms than your 100. Maybe you're already a little over 100 - you broke that magic barrier a few weeks ago on your 30th birthday. Eat, work hard and lift iron in the evening. That shapes your body. And beer. Lots of beer. To the delight of the audience, you interrupt your drinking contest for a short burping contest. The landlord actually has a device to measure the volume. You lose. That's clear. You lack the resonance body…
The next beer is a big miss for both you and your buddy. Your dirty tank tops are now wet from the beer. But that was a quick round of drinking, so it happens. You feel a bit dizzy. Your buddy is already looking extremely glassy-eyed. A murmur goes round the room. Should you really stand a chance?
After the seventh beer, you both have to go for a piss. Shit, why are you doing this to yourselves? So that one of you can blow the other? You do that as often as you can see each other anyway. And luckily your paths cross from time to time. "Dude, has your beast grown?" slurs your buddy as you stand swaying in front of the urinals and can no longer aim and hit the target very well. "You bet your life, get ready for a lot, bro," you slur back. "And now give me a kiss, I can't wait any longer."
You're too drunk to remember to turn your caps backwards. You push his cap off his head and it falls into a puddle of urine. Damn, it's seen worse. You stagger back to your beer cans. After the eighth beer, your first goal is achieved. 2.0 per mille blood alcohol. Spread over a proud 120 kilograms of your 35-year-old body. A passionate trucker for 13 years. Your 36-ton beast is basically your home and your family. Hehehe, there are a few other people in the family too. Mike here next to you, for example. You rip open the ninth can and empty it almost at record speed. Shit, you're going to be sick. Mike opens the can, takes a sip. And stumbles towards the toilet. He can't reach the toilet bowl. But at least he throws up in the sink.
When he comes back, he looks at you with glazed eyes. He falls to his knees in front of you to the loud roar of the audience and tries to open your trousers with his drunken head. You have to laugh. "Not here, not now, Buddie" You pull him up. Let him sober up a bit first. You should both enjoy the moment when he sucks you off for the first time!
#male tf#muscle tf#reality change#chronivac#tank top#age progression#redneck tf#twink to jock#ai image
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I wanted to share my thoughts about the first three episodes of Bad Batch season 3 immediately after watching them, but I was too emotional about everything I saw that I needed some time to calm down a bit.
It's beyond my expectations, just perfect! From the plot, to the characters, through the beautiful graphics and wonderful music, everything was epic. This season will definitely be much more mature and dark than the others. I love Bad Batch with all my heart and words cannot describe how important these characters are to me. I don't think I will focus on each episode separately, but I will show my general feelings and thoughts.
Something that touched my heart deeply was how Omega becomes so much like Hunter. Her facial expressions, her eyes, tactical skills and that characteristic whistle! I immediately thought of Hunter. She became so mature, strong, decisive and calm in stressful situations. It's clear that she's no longer the same little child we met on Kamino in the first season. She has changed so much... Even Crosshair seems to see this, as he let her lead during his escape from Mount Tantiss. He was her support, did not question her ideas and did not hesitate to follow orders. I love watching their bond become stronger. Every day Omega came to his cell, talked about her day... and he listened... he had no choice because he couldn't just go, but I think they both needed each other's presence. They knew they were not alone and encouraged each other, in some way.
It is clear that Omega still misses the rest of her brothers and strongly believes that she will be able to return to them again, together with Crosshair. She can't imagine leaving him, it's out of the question. No matter how hard Crosshair tries to make her believe that he is not worth saving, she will still be on his side. I think Crosshair realized through her that his brothers never really wanted to leave him and were willing to take him back at any time if he just wanted...
Even though Omega has become more mature, she is still a child. Being locked in a cell, the routine and monotony of life must be very exhausting for her, because she is by nature a lively, active and curious sweet girl. She spent most of her life locked up and the only good memories she had were of freedom and her brothers, even though it wasn't for a long time. She even made herself a doll like Lula, who stayed on the Marauder with Hunter and Wrecker. This parallel symbolizes their connection, despite the enormous distance that separated them. And Batcher... Omega doesn't want to forget, she wants to remember her brothers, the love she had for them and received from them, all those good memories together... Ouch...
Somewhere in another part of the Galaxy, two brothers are desperately looking for their little sister. Their worn armor shows that they have fought hard during this time. Hunter also has different bandana... I've seen a theory that it's similar to the band Omega wore on his wrist in season two. This way, maybe Hunter wanted to always have her close to him, at least a part of her, I wonder if he can smell her scent... Oh Force, I'm gonna cry...
The sight of Hunter having difficulty working with Tech's Datapad, how desperate he is to do everything he can to find Omega, how exhausted he seems... Maybe it's just me, but he looks thinner and has paler skin than before. This breaks my heart. I'm sure he was thinking about Tech who could do the job in a second. The sight of his goggles resting alone, the empty space he once occupied... Marauder never looked so lonely... Let me tell you, I shed a tear.
I really liked how Wrecker was the voice of reason in his conversation with Hunter. It's beautiful how one look, a nod of the head, or a hand on the shoulder can bring Hunter down. They support each other and it is clear that after everything they have lost, they have become even closer. They need each other to keep from going crazy.
Even though they are the only two left, Wrecker still considers Hunter to be the leader and waits for his orders even though he knows he doesn't have to. He remains loyal. When he was talking to the little cadets on the Marauder, I was so happy when I heard his laughter. Honest, loud and heartwarming. I think he's needed this for a long time. He definitely misses the company of a child on board, he loves children so much...
I also love that little scene where Hunter is working and looks at Lula out of the corner of his eye, thinking about Omega. He can't live without her... I feel like if they were separated again, he wouldn't be able todeal with it and would just explode, showing all the anger and despair he was holding, possibly doing something stupid in the process... He loves his little Omega too much that he can't imagine life without her. He is ready to drop everything just to be able to hold her close to him, to keep her safe. I'm so scared for him.
On the one hand, I was surprised that Echo didn't stay with the boys to look for Omega, but I expected him to join Rex. They may also be searching, but I think their main goal is to free prisoners and gather as many allies as possible to create the Clone Rebellion.
I could talk for hours and still not express all my thoughts and emotions that these episodes made me feel. I can't wait for next Wednesday.
#the bad batch#star wars#clones#never stop loving clones#the bad batch season 3#the bad batch season three spoilers#tbb hunter#tbb wrecker#tbb echo#tbb crosshair#tbb omega#tbb tech#personal thoughts
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I think you're the fifth blogger I've seen mention Shax's thing for Crowley... I still can't see it even though I really want to 'cause I think it's hilarious... send help... 🤣🥲😔
I can try lol. Chocolate cake? *slices*
More fun with Shax and Crowley under the cut. We're also going to look at part of Gabriel & Sandalphon's visit to the bookshop in S1 for some bonus fun since it fit in here as it's a parallel scene.
TW: Brief mention of Sandalphon and his homophobia.
For the most part, Shax isn't really in love with Crowley... she's just got a Mr. Brown-level pash on the Crowley that Crowley projects. While Aziraphale hides that he's an angel from the human world so Mr. Brown only believes him to be human, Crowley hides the extent to which he's human and living like one from the demons in Hell. As a result, the demon pursuing him has got exactly one thing correct about Crowley-- that he's hot lol-- but Shax's opinions as to why only partially overlap with ours and Aziraphale's because Shax believes Crowley's big reputation. She doesn't know what we know about him or see him the way we do. Like Mr. Brown with Aziraphale, she exists in part to highlight how insular Crowley & Aziraphale's world of their life together is and how much they have to playact in their respective worlds to keep that secret life they have with one another private and intact.
Shax is a demon who loves being a demon. That's what makes her crazy to us. Most of the other demons we've met are just miserable, even if they're playing along, but Shax is a real go-getter. She's ambitious and she lives to serve their master Satan. She wants to be good at being a demon and she's in love with *Crowley* lol. To us, this seems bananas because ain't no demon ever hated being a demon more than Anthony Jemimah Crowley... but it's proof positive of how decent a job Crowley has been doing at projecting an air of general demonicness for the last six thousand years.
Crowley has been a prince of Hell forever. He's gotten the top jobs-- the stuff of Shax's dreams, really-- and was a particular favorite of Satan, whom Shax worships. He was basically Hell's resident rock star, breezing in every few months to give a demonic presentation and shoot the shit in Lord Beezlebub's office for a half-hour before taking off for Earth again. If you were Shax, spending literally *thousands of years* in that overstuffed, dark, actual hell hole, Crowley showing up must have been like a visit from sexy Santa Claus. Shax is one of those Effort-making demons and most of the demons in Hell are more terrifying than attractive, ok?... even if you find terrifying attractive, like Shax sorta does or at least thinks she ought to.
Who's going to light your fire down there? Hastur? He'd *literally* light you on fire....
We've seen Shax have to deal with misogyny in the workplace (ugh Demon Josh) and you know she never got any of that shit from Crowley. She probably mostly got a "Shaaaaax! How's it hangin'?" from Disco Tony, who was thrilled to have remembered her name this time. Shax was playing it evil demon lady cool on the surface but girl just wants to be first string for the finest demon in Hell and she was swooning internally every time Crowley swooped in to grace Hell with his presence for a hot minute.
There has been suggestion in the series that several demons that we know of from Bible lore are, in Good Omens, all actually Crowley, which furthers this idea of Crowley and his big reputation a bit. The show has actually already done this with a Biblical figure, in that Bildad the Shuite is an actual Biblical character that the show just made be actually the demon Crowley under a different name, so it would make sense that the reason why we haven't seen other famous demons from The Bible in the series are because they're actually Crowley.
One is canon, basically, which is Astaroth/Astoreth, since Crowley was Nanny Astoreth in S1 and I doubt he stole the name from another demon who exists in the GO universe. When Crowley tells Aziraphale he changed his name when they are watching Jesus' crucifixion, Aziraphale first posits two other demons' names and neither of them exist in GO universe to date but both are, lore-wise, powerful: Mephistopheles and Asmodeus. A lot of other great meta has been written about these choices-- in particular, how well Mephistopheles fits Crowley to a tee, which I really, really agree with. You could assume then that the reasons why more audience-known demons like Astoreth and Asmodeus have never shown up in GO-- and we've met the highest-ranking demons already-- is because they actually *have* and they're all just really Crowley.
In demon lore, Astaroth is part of the "evil trinity" with Beezlebub and Lucifer and is a high-ranking demon in Hell... as well as is basically a genderbent serpent goddess with Crowley traits... so safe to say that's one of Crowley's aliases. Crowley has also had his name of "Crowley" for thousands of years by S1 but when he's rolling up in The Bentley in 1.01, Ligur and Hastur clarify what Crowley's "calling himself up here these days", indicating that he might have gone by more names than we might have realized.
Asmodeus, as we all probably know by now, is the demon of lust. A French novel from the 18th century also popularized the idea of Asmodeus as a sort of Cupid, which also goes along with Crowley, who loves love and got genuine joy out of trying to set up Maggie and Nina. So... from Shax's perspective, why *wouldn't* you want Crowley? He's the fine as fuck, Serpent of Eden, legendary prince of fucking lust here lol.
Shax showed up to reclaim his apartment for Hell and you know she expected a scene the likes of which have not been seen on Earth since a post-concert hotel suite occupied by Led Zeppelin lol. She was expecting (fantasizing lol) about having to wade through a rock music blasting, orgiastic drug den to find Asmodeus in his sex dungeon of a bedroom, somewhere in the black silk sheets beneath three playthings.
You know she actually found Crowley, alone, having just finished vacuuming the most fastidiously clean flat this side of Heaven, fully dressed and watching Barefoot Contessa on his massive plasma screen while the only drugs being mixed were special-blend fertilizer for his houseplants. Ina was making Jeffrey red-wine braised short ribs and Crowley didn't say so to Shax, of course, but he's always on the lookout for something his angel might like for dinner. Hang on a second, Shax, gotta save this recipe to my favorites...
At least the black silk sheets were accurate? lol
What probably confuses Shax a little is that she's been meeting up with Crowley and she still wants him and badly, even as it's becoming increasingly clear that he's a bit more complicated than she thought he was. Technically, she should consider him a traitor because of how he betrayed their Master but he's hot, ok, and maybe it's a little sexy to be so bad that you'd defy Satan? (Aziraphale agrees lol.)
Shax has Mr. Brown-level fantasies about where this could go. Crowley was a favorite of Satan's and she can bring him back into the fold. She can heal him. Yeah, this lady demon has gone and got herself one of those 'I can fix him' disaster scenarios. She hates this for her too but she can't help it. He's so sexy. She's been in Hell for a long time. She's sleeping in the bed and showering in the tropical rainforest paradise dream shower of Asmodeus himself, ok?
She's undoubtedly tried to get him to stay. She's so offered for him to live with her in secret and Crowley nearly choked on the air he doesn't need to breathe trying not to laugh at the irony of that one. It's not Shax's fault that he's just not that into her. She's a bad bitch and everything. That's just not his thing. He's just the lonely GI who basically fell asleep during a performance of The Ladies of Camelot. He has always given off the impression that he's into everything there is to sell the whole 'demon of lust' thing but he's really not. Shax doesn't know that, though, because to know that is to know Crowley well and Shax does not.
Does Crowley know that Shax is into him? Yeah, he does.
Shax's thing for him is basically the same thing as when Crowley tries to make a phone call after having taken out the mobile phone network for miles. It's the oh, shit, right, that thing I did that's now fucking up my day in the present... He didn't lead her on specifically as much as he just gave off the vibe in general that he's this debauched, wild, so very wicked demon and, well... if your name is Aziraphale, that's not terribly inaccurate lol... but if it's not, then it's actually not true at all...
...and this is why Shax cannot for the fucking life of her figure out what the deal is with Crowley and this angel.
Yes, Shax is trying to goad Aziraphale into confirming that he has Gabriel in this scene but this scene also comes off as Shax so incredibly done with how jealous she is over this, in her eyes, ridiculous being, and she's bitchy as all fuck about it. There were other ways to crack at Aziraphale than over his relationship with Crowley and she goes at that hard. She calls The Bentley an old piece of junk when she's really clearly calling Aziraphale that and saying that she doesn't know why Crowley hasn't gotten "an upgrade" since, implying that she considers herself just the upgrade Crowley needs. She brings up 1941 via the rumors that she heard "80, 90 years ago" that Crowley and Aziraphale were "an item", which we know are at least partially derived from what happened with Furfur, who his Shax's closest friend and totally has tried to tell her that this thing she has for Crowley is hopeless because he's doing that angel, Shax. (Poor, pining Furfur lol.)
Shax knows somewhere that Furfur is probably correct but she's decided to pretend that it's Furfur's thing for her that could have caused him to misconstrue at least part of it, right, because the demon of lust only having eyes for one being, let alone that being being this angel, is absurd to her (even if she thinks she can tame him lol.)
Aziraphale is an angel, for one thing. The bastards who did this to The Fallen and who cast their Master to Hell. Their sworn, hereditary enemy. It was one thing when maybe the angel was a dalliance. Asmodeus, lonely and bored on Earth, tired of all the sex with the mortals, and so very bad that he could corrupt an angel. That's a little hot, actually, if you're Shax, but it's the fact that that... does not appear to be what this relationship is... that unsettles her.
During S2, Shax learns that Crowley has a permanent invite into and keys to the bookshop and that Aziraphale can drive Crowley's car to an extent that Shax even has to trick him to allow her to enter it. The angel really seems like he might be Crowley's partner, which would mean that this wasn't Crowley fucking an angel on a whim in 1941 but that Hell's wild prince of lust has actually secretly been in a romantic relationship with Aziraphale for at least, to Shax's knowledge, almost a century.
The purported baddest demon that ever demoned, shy of the literal devil, is apparently mad for this fusty angel and Shax just cannot get it, ok?
Crowley is a a broody, black-clad rock star and Aziraphale is this twee little bookselling angel to her. Shax thinks maybe this was all part of Crowley's breakdown or something and she's Mr. Brown so she hasn't given up hope here, not for most of S2, but she's mostly been trying to figure out how to get Crowley's attention and that's the funniest part of her whole pash, imo.
Shax has no idea what Crowley is into. She can't figure this out to save her life.
She has no idea that it's over before it started because she is just not what primes the engine of Crowley's star factory over here. It's not personal. He just doesn't have a shred of sexual interest in her. Gabriel is getting more action from Crowley this season and he tried to murder him lol. Crowley's spent millennia cultivating a persona of a sex god and now he's got to live with it and he's just praying he never finds out anything she's fantasizing about him because he shudders at the thought of whatever she envisions them getting up to.
Look at what Shax is wearing when she comes to Earth to meet with Crowley, for one of the more hilarious things...
In Hell, Shax wears modern clothes. When she comes to Earth to meet Crowley in the year 2023, she wears a vintage-inspired outfit that is spanning the mid-1930s through WW2 in style (the era she knows he was involved with Aziraphale, who is her main point of reference for what attracts Asmodeus over here lol)... and the dress has the biggest damn bow ever seen. You could see that bow from space. It's like she's trying desperately to figure out what turns Crowley on and so far she's come up with well, he drives an old car and he's rolled that angel so he likes... old things... vintage clothes, like the angel's. She's trying to out-bow-tie Aziraphale.
Now that Shax can spend time with Crowley alone and the possibility of seducing him is ever-present (lolololol), she's spending time trying to figure out what turns on the prince of lust. She's trying to get Crowley's demonically lustful attention and she's reduced to bow ties, okay, take pity on her... she's just like I don't know what his deal with these are, exactly, as it seems kind of specific... but he can unwrap me anytime if that's his thing...
Then, there's that she's sitting too close to him on the park bench and raking her eyes over him while he's sprawling on it. He's not sprawling in a way meant to be enticing. He's actually mid-existential crisis here but that's fine by Shax. She likes 'em a little dark.
My favorite, though, is a scene that actually parallels S1 in a hilarious way and that's from the hot water boiler scene in the other meta that prompted the ask here but isn't a bit that I mentioned in that one.
As Crowley goes back into the bookshop (and he'd never been happier to be on the other side of that threshold in his life lol), Shax is then as physically close to him as she's ever been. If you notice, she actually inhales twice. The first is a regular breath-- which demons don't technically need to take but yeah lol-- and her expression is all oh Satan, he smells amazing and then she straight up sniffs the air as he opens the door. Girl is huffing her fill over here for those shower fantasies for months to come lol. Crowley knows it as his eyebrows are in his hair as he's turning back around like he's all did she seriously just *sniff* me? ugh...
Shax knows Crowley saw her (honestly, probably also *heard* her... Shax, love, a little subtlety wouldn't kill you...) so she covers it up by pretending like she smelled Gabriel in the bookshop. You smelled the archangel in there, huh, Shax? When you can't get through the door? When Gabriel is the same species as Aziraphale, whose bookshop this is, so this can't be some kind of angel-scent you're claiming you noticed here? lol This then parallels and adds to this Sandalphon scene in S1:
I know there's some debate about if there's such thing as an angelic or a demonic smell but I've actually always taken it to be that there isn't. It would seem to me that it would be hard for them to blend in on Earth if there was and if the demonic one was something off-putting to humans, at least. I think most of us, though, do believe that the "evil" Sandalphon is smelling in the backroom is Crowley but considering that the comment comes from Sandalphon, who is introduced to us with reference to his smiting of people in Sodom and Gomorrah, it honestly just comes off that Sandalphon is a raging homophobe and I've actually always taken that as the reason why Gabriel is here in this scene in the first place.
Absolutely nothing happens in this scene. It's a routine checkup. What is the Supreme Archangel of Heaven doing there? Why is he blowing so much smoke up Sandalphon's ass the whole time? It's kind of like he saw that Michael or someone had assigned Sandalphon to do a checkup of sorts on Aziraphale-- or Sandalphon had assigned himself-- and Gabriel pretended that he wanted to see in person how "the great Sandalphon" worked so that he could tag along and make sure that Sandalphon didn't bother Aziraphale. We also learn that Aziraphale hasn't seen Sandalphon in a long time and I'd bet that Gabriel is responsible for that. Gabriel's 'whatever, idgaf' response to Aziraphale's Jeffrey Archer books comment is so... Gabriel hadn't the first clue who Jeffrey Archer is or why his books would be evil lol. He could have easily further encouraged Sandalphon's pursuit of the "evil" scent. He didn't because he could care less what Aziraphale does in the backroom of his bookshop. If anything, he's jealous of him for having found a way to have some freedom and privacy. Gabriel is queer-- he is like Aziraphale. He's just closeted in S1. He's looking out for Aziraphale here by using his power to shut down Sandalphon and then "you can't have a war without war omg wow you are a poet!" him out of there as fast as is possible. If there truly was an 'evil'/'demonic' smell, Gabriel should have been able to smell it, too, and he doesn't. If he did, he wouldn't have been able to subtly shut down Sandalphon the way he did.
So, Sandalphon isn't smelling a demon. He's smelling another man. The "evil" is that Sandalphon can smell remnants of another cologne that isn't Aziraphale's in the backroom of Aziraphale's bookshop and Sandalphon is a homophobe, so he's implying that Aziraphale having sex and with a man is 'evil', even if there's no direct evidence here of that, just the implication of it.
This then would mean that Shax can't actually smell Gabriel in the bookshop in S2. Like Sandalphon, she's pretending to have a supernatural sense of scent but she's really just smelling Crowley. While Sandalphon was repulsed by the idea of Aziraphale's bookshop backroom having the scent of a man, Shax is just inhaling that same being's scent because omfg. so. good....
...something she can't stand that she has in common with that bastard angel, Aziraphale, who is actually allowed to breathe Crowley in anytime he wants... it's just ridiculous to her. Why the fuck does that beige bookseller get to have the sex god of Shax's dreams in his bed and she doesn't? What could Crowley possibly find attractive about him? That she doesn't know and can't really figure it out shows how little she really knows Crowley and also how little imagination she really has.
#ineffable husbands#good omens#crowley#aziraphale#good omens 2#good omens meta#aziracrow#good omens shax#shax good omens#shax#archangel fucking gabriel#sandalphon#mr brown#of brown's world of carpets
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Being with Victor Van Dort
₊˚⊹♡ ∘₊ ───────────── ₊˚⊹♡ ∘₊ ─────────────── ₊˚⊹♡ ∘₊
warnings ✩° : fluff headcanons, no cursing, sweet victor, some implied sexual headcanons but it's not a sexual movie i just LOVE victor so bad ugh i need him, kaicubus british accent.
pairing ✩° : victor van dort x mostly gn!reader
authors note ✩° : nothing is done about him so as usual, i'm stepping up to the plate. tall skinny emo boy IM COMING FOR YOU. why do i want to do more? thinks. i'm trying to get my halloween fics out guys i promise...
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To say Victor would do anything for you in and outside of his power is such an understatement. He has such little power in what he does compared to other people, especially suitable bachelors, but he tries so hard with what he has.
You two meet because your parents need you two to be wed, so of course, he's a stranger. A very kind, and understanding stranger who at times feels like he's so brittle around you he'll break at any second.
He bumps into you? Victor scurries away. You look at him? Victor slams himself into the wall in the process. He kind of loses composure around you.
When he warms up to you eventually, Victor actually talks about his interests a lot. You find out he's an excellent musician, talented in piano and violin, an exceptional artist, and he's an avid reader who enjoys dark poetry.
He's still very insecure about the idea of you loving him or at least liking him, but he'll never bother you with questions because he doesn't want to seem needy (but he is so needy). If his insecurities do get the best of him, Victor will ask gently, "Do you actually like me? If not, I get it. I'm not rich nor strong enough to support and provide for us, I just want to be sure." Of course, you answer him honestly and he's over the moon when you tell him you actually do love him.
Victor notices things about you that no one else would notice, like the amount of moles you have on your left arm, if you prefer crowded areas or not, and if you cut your hair just a few inches to the point where it's not even that noticeable.
Speaking of, if you're ever at a ball or a place where there's a lot of people and you're not comfortable with crowds, Victor will take you away to a secluded area and calm you down from there.
He is overly apologetic. Sometimes it gets slightly annoying with how much he does it, but you never react negatively and always reassure him. Victor will apologize even if you're the one who caused something, blaming it all on himself so you don't feel bad at all.
Victor's love language is surely words of affirmation as he loves to give you endearing complements but also he feels good receiving them. He doesn't expect anything, because that's the least of your worries he thinks, but even so much as a simple flick of his hair and saying how nice it looks that day drives him absolutely mad.
However, when he compliments you, he's never short of charming. Victor catches you off guard sometimes when he reminds you how 'ravishing you look' or 'how you put the stars to shame with your glittering smile.' Usually he draws parallels with you and the stars, moon, sun, or flowers. He always makes you feel seen.
Naturally, as your husband, Victor is protective over you. He's never one to start a fight over a worthless scum trying to flirt with you, but he's not shy to let his presence be known and to grab you by the waist into his thin frame.
Calls you my love, darling, my beloved, and gorgeous.
Loves receiving. Victor will never ask anything of you, sure, but he won't deny it when it happens. He loves being kissed first, he loves being pulled down to kiss you, he loves being marked in hickeys especially on his collar bone, all of that.
One very specific thing is that Victor really enjoys dressing you and putting your makeup on. There's just something about the silent intimacy of sliding on your dress, gliding the thin fabric of tights on, tightening your corset, and delicately lining your lips with a dark, rose red lipstick that he loves so much. Even if he can't do the whole outfit, you'll still allow him to do your makeup or brush your hair.
Victor also likes things a very specific way. Not that he's controlling, he's far from it, but little things like overlined or underlined lipstick makes him fidgety. He'll swipe his thumb over your cupid's bow if that's the case and pretend like nothing happened.
He writes long, lengthy love letters. Sometimes explicit ones if he isn't there with you. He's uh, good at writing!
Victor shivers a lot. Take that as you will.
Loves painting portraits of you.
#kaicubus#corpse bride#corpse bride victor#victor corpse bride#victor van dort#tim burton#corpse bride fanfiction#corpse bride fic#corpse bride preferences#victor van dort x reader#victor van dort x you#victor van dort x y/n#preferences#headcanons#victor van dort headcanons#halloween#halloween fanfic#halloween writing#tim burton film
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Has this been done yet? (Oh, this is so much longer than intended)
Everyone knows Eddie is in love with Steve. It's not like he really tries to hide it. He's always flirting with him, taking up all his personal space, and finding excuses to constantly hang out with him.
The only person who refuses to believe this is Steve. He insists that Eddie is just dramatic, so all his feelings are larger than life, and flirting is just second nature to him. Really, it means nothing. Although Steve wants it to mean something.
He's come to terms with being bisexual after a quick discussion with Robin about what his feelings for Eddie meant. And really, after discovering a universe that is the parallel Hell to his own, being bi is the least of his concerns.
On the other hand, Eddie Munson is one of his greatest concerns. Every time Eddie flirts with him, his brain goes perfectly blank. And it doesn't help that Steve gets so distracted by the man's damn lips. But Steve can tell it's all just a part of who Eddie is. He draws people in until they're utterly enamored with him, and his means of flirting is his way of drawing Steve in.
Honestly, hearing everyone trying to convince him that Eddie has feelings for him just makes Steve uncomfortable because none of them have confirmation from Eddie about it. And it just fills the room with a weird tension whenever Eddie and Steve are with anyone else. Eddie has brought it up a few times with a quick whispered, "Why is everyone staring at us?" And Steve just brushes it off until Eddie moves onto some random topic that has Steve dropping everything he's doing to listen.
But one day when Eddie's at Family Video, he's grabbing a tape and suggesting him and Steve should watch it at nine that night. Steve instantly agrees which has Eddie fanning himself and flirting, "Watching a movie with the Steve Harrington. How will I ever be able to recover?"
Steve leans in and finally flirts back, "It's a date." Which has Eddie freezing in a place a moment before he clears his throat and slow-mo punches the counter.
"It's a date," Eddie confirms without his usual bravado that has Steve finally noticing it. The dilated pupils, the way his eyes flicker to his lips, the way he licks his lips when he leans in, and just the general soft look he gets when he looks at him.
Eddie likes him. And Steve is about to pull out all the moves at his trailer tonight.
Eddie leaves a bit after that, not sticking around like he usually does, but he tells Robin he has a date to prepare for when she comes out of the breakroom. As soon as he's out the door, Steve is spilling everything to Robin who agrees to help him before his date.
A few hours later, and a lot of arguments over outfits later, Steve is showing up on Eddie's doorstep with flowers in his hands. Eddie opens the door and accepts them with a laugh. "What a kind date you are," Eddie says and welcomes Steve inside.
Steve looks around and takes note of how the trailer doesn't really look any different, and Eddie hasn't changed since he left, so Steve's unsure of what he was preparing for unless... He shakes his head. Too soon.
Eddie flops down on the couch and offers Steve a beer which he gladly accepts to calm his nerves a bit. He sits right in Eddie's space and puts his arm around the back of the couch. Eddie looks at him and jokes, "And I thought you hated when I got in your personal space." Nonetheless, he leans into Steve as the movie starts.
And Steve has no idea what's happening on the screen. He goes through his beer fast and sets it on the table in front of them. He turns to Eddie and asks, "Where's your uncle?"
Eddie glances up at him and replies, "At work."
Steve gets distracted by how close his lips are to Eddie's but decides this is the perfect time to finally make a move. "Good," he says as he leans down.
Only, Eddie is shooting back and asking, "What are you doing?"
Steve freezes. Eddie doesn't look pleasantly surprised at all, instead he looks scared and confused. Fuck. "Uh, forget about it. Sorry," Steve says as he scoots away from him and slowly stands up.
"It's okay," Eddie says still looking a bit panicked. A few awkward moments pass by before he's talking again, "I...I should apologize for leading you on... with the flirting in stuff... I didn't know you were..." he trails off.
"Bisexual," Steve fills in for him. Eddie gives him a confused look. "It means I like men and women."
"Oh," Eddie says, eyes still wide but looking a bit lost in thought.
Steve just echoes, "Yeah, oh." He fidgets the edge of the stupid blue shirt Robin had said would make Eddie lose his mind. He feels a pressure behind his eyes that's wildly embarrassing. "I'm gonna go," Steve says and rushes out the trailer and into the pouring rain. He has no idea when it started raining, but it doesn't matter because Eddie doesn't even try to stop him.
Steve parks his car outside of Robin's and goes to the side of the one-story house and knocks on her window. Robin is unlatching it immediately and asking, "What the hell are you doing? It's raining out."
"You were wrong about Eddie. He doesn't like me. Why would you convince me he did?" Steve says loudly over the rain.
Robin's eyebrows furrow. "There's no way he doesn't. What makes you think that? And get inside, you're already soaked!"
"He apologized for leading me on, Robin!" Steve says, not caring about the rain or how loud he's getting. "He didn't even stop me when I left! So, don't try this whole setting people up with me thing again. I'm done with that." He stalks off as Robin calls out to him.
He knows he's being dramatic, but he doesn't care. He really liked Eddie, and he hadn't been prepared to be rejected by him. Worst of all, this is going to ruin their entire friendship. Who are they without the flirtatious banter and constant teasing? They weren't dating but Steve has never felt so heartbroken before.
When he gets home, he doesn't really think, just goes to his pool and dives in. He's already soaked, so it's not like it matters too much. He floats on the surface and closes his eyes, feeling the raindrops falling on his face which are noticeably colder than his tears, but at least he can pretend it hides them.
The sound of thunder in the distance is what drags him out of the pool. He's not going to let lightning be the thing that kills him after everything. Although his heartache feels a bit intent on killing him. But that just makes him angry at himself.
He isn't allowed to be this hurt over things. He really isn't. He should've known better. That's all. His thoughts wear him out until he's falling into a fitful sleep.
Work the next day sucks. Robin's acting all anxious around him, and Nancy comes in acting all sympathetic until Steve finally snaps, "If you're not here to get a movie, then you have no reason to be here."
After that, Robin lectures him about taking his anger out on other people. At least she isn't giving him that damn sad look anymore.
For the first time in weeks, Eddie doesn't show up during his shift, and Steve realizes he needs to get used to that.
A week later, the kids are giving him the same treatment Nancy did after they finally get Steve to spill the reason why Eddie doesn't come to the Family Video anymore. Steve slips away into the back after Robin tells him it's his break time - which is absolute bullshit, but Robin doesn't let the kids know that.
Steve has his head in his hands when he hears the door to the breakroom open. He doesn't look up, expecting Robin to tell him that the kids have left or something. Instead, he hears, "Just give him a while. If you're lucky, it won't take him years to figure things out."
Steve's head slowly comes up to reply, "Not all of us can be lucky like you and Mike."
Will shrugs. "If not, you know Eddie will still be friends with you. I give it a week before things are back to normal." Steve smiles at the kid. He's optimistic and determined in a way that makes Steve feel a glimmer of hope.
Two days later, Steve is wiping off the counter towards the end of his shift when he hears the bell to the front door ring. He glances up to find Eddie walking in looking slightly cautious as he looks around the empty store.
"Hey," Steve says as he approaches the counter.
Eddie smiles slightly and says, "Hey." Then, he's handing over a tape to return, and Steve tries not to flinch when he recognizes it as the one they were supposed to watch that night.
"A bit late," Steve jokes but automatically clears the fees before he sets it in the returns pile for the next day.
Eddie puts his hands in his pockets and shrugs. "I forgot." His eyes lock with Steve's for a moment before they begin to look at anywhere but him. "Where's Robin?"
"I let her go early," Steve explains. Another awkward silence settles between them.
"Well," Eddie says and removes a hand from his pocket to drum his fingers on the counter. "I'm gonna head out."
"Wait," Steve calls out as he turns around. Eddie freezes. "I'm about to lock up. Could you just wait around a few minutes?" Steve asks, trying not to cringe at the desperation in his tone.
Eddie turns around and gives him a small smile. "Of course."
Steve nods and rushes to clean up. It won't kill anyone to close the store a few minutes early. He grabs his stuff from the back and is slightly surprised when he finds Eddie still waiting for him when he returns. But he glances up and gives him a smile that makes Steve believe that maybe Will was right. Maybe things will return back to normal in a week.
And they do. Eddie starts showing up during Steve's shifts again, talking about something random which Steve listens to full heartedly although sometimes he doesn't get half of what he's saying. Then, Eddie is returning a tape that has been late for so long that Steve actually gasps when he sees the late fee. But Steve automatically clears it which has Eddie flirting, "Is this because you think I'm cute?"
It has both of them freezing for a second, but then Steve is firing back, "I'm just making sure you know that you owe me in the future." Eddie pouts ridiculously dramatically which has Steve laughing and saying, "And maybe because you're cute."
The compliment has Eddie's cheeks turning slightly red before they move on to a random topic. Steve is happy to find their dynamic shifts a little after this which allows Steve to flirt back easily. It confuses everyone else, but Steve is perfectly content with it, especially when he finds Eddie's smiles growing with every compliment he gets.
One afternoon, Eddie is looking through tapes and gives him the oddest deja vu when he holds one up and says, "We should watch this together."
It's said all casual, but Steve hasn't hung out with Eddie alone since... yeah. And he's kind of freaking out. "After my shift?" Steve asks.
"It's a date," Eddie says with a bright smile that has Steve excusing himself to go to the bathroom.
He splashes his face with cold water and takes a few deep breaths. It isn't actually a date this time - he knows that. But the memory of the last time might be a little too much for Steve to handle. He dries off his face with a thin paper towel, and exits the bathroom only to find Eddie anxiously fiddling with his rings at the counter.
"You okay?" Steve asks, and Eddie turns and nods with an unconvincing smile. Steve lets it go as Eddie talks about his most recent DnD session with the kids and how Will is a genius. Steve definitely agrees with him on that topic.
A few hours later, Steve finds himself in the Munson trailer on the same couch, drinking the same beer, but this time keeping a respectable distance from Eddie. Minutes later, Eddie is heading to the fridge to grab two more beers, and when he comes back, he sits right next to Steve.
Steve glances towards him in slight confusion, but Eddie remains staring at his TV as he practically chugs down his second beer. Before Steve can reach out for the other one, Eddie is opening it and starting on a third one.
Steve's hand comes up to settle on Eddie's hand on the bottle. Eddie slowly puts the bottle down and blurts out, "My uncle is working again."
Steve just slowly nods, not sure where he's going with this. Eddie looks at Steve and his eyes quickly flicker to his lips where they linger. Steve can't help but ask, "You okay?"
Eddie's eyes snap back up to Steve's eyes, and then he's taking his beer and taking a large gulp of it that has Steve on edge. He's definitely preparing for something, but Steve has no clue what it is.
Eddie turns to him and asks, "Remember when you told me you were..."
Steve racks his brain. Into you? Gutted when you didn't like me back? "Bisexual?" he asks.
Eddie nods quickly. "I... hadn't heard of that before, and it had me wondering if... I was bisexual."
"Oh," Steve says as his heart rate increases.
"Yeah, and then I thought about Chrissy and how I thought I might like her, but I think I just liked her the way Robin likes you. Completely platonically." Steve nods as Eddie builds up the courage for what he's going to say next. "And I kind of realized that maybe I didn't like girls at all. But then that freaked me out, and I realized that maybe I need to think less in labels and more about how I feel."
Steve tries not to smile as Eddie's face scrunches up as he mumbles out, "That's so fucking cheesy. Christ." In a normal volume, Eddie continues, "And I think that I have... feelings for you. Especially after you tried to kiss me. I just couldn't stop thinking about how I wanted you to, but I didn't know what that meant either. But then when you were flirting with me, I just... wanted that forever. And then fucking Mike had to talk to me about how it made me feel to imagine you with anyone else - which turns out to be really fucking not good."
Steve laughs, and Eddie finally looks at him with a big smile and says, "Don't laugh at me while I'm trying to admit I have feelings for you! That's rude!"
Steve laughs even harder and explains, "I'm laughing because you got the Mike lecture while I got the Will pep talk."
"Huh?"
"Will told me you would come to your senses eventually, and if not, you'd still be there - as a friend."
Eddie looks off for a second and shakes his head. "We can never tell them those worked. Dustin will be so pissed."
"You're right," Steve says with a laugh, but then he finally realizes what Eddie is saying. "So, you might like me?" Steve asks feeling every bit like a high school boy.
"Yeah," Eddie admits and turns to look towards his beer longingly.
Steve cups his jaw and turns his head to face him. "Want to find out?" Steve asks.
Eddie's eyes flicker to his lips again and his hand comes up to mimic Steve's as he rests his hand on his cheek. "Yes," Eddie breathes out.
Steve slowly leans into his space and lets Eddie meet him halfway for a slow kiss. Eddie pulls back after a moment and smiles wide, "Yeah, I'm definitely not straight. And I really like you."
Steve smiles and brings Eddie in again. "I really like you, too," Steve says before he kisses him again.
Posted on AO3 for @starkdusk
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i know we’ve all been requesting so much poly rowaelin lately but i was thinking of a drabble with rowan spanking reader and aelin holding her down and wiping her tears 🤓
if/when you have time and feel like writing this, of course 💕
stay still
Rowaelin x f!Reader
Summary: Aelin helps you stay still.
Warnings: spanking, light dacryphillia, nsfw, smut, d/s dynamics, implied subspace - this really is pure smut, no plot. minors dni!
A/N: I’ve been trying to write this for a few days but I kept sweating every time I thought about it, but now I'm drinking wine from the bottle so here we go! thank you for the request <3
Your leg kicked up involuntarily to try and cover your ass. Rowan seemed to delight in shoving it back down, in pushing you closer to submission with each strike. The next one hit right where your ass met your thighs, and your legs close together, hands flying back to try and cover yourself.
A snarl comes from him, pressing into you, pants rough against your raw skin, your hands now pinned to your back as his body folded over you. “I thought you said you could stay still,” his voice is in your ear, breath warming your neck.
A whimper is your only response. You had said that, and trying to defend yourself would only make it worse. Rowan snorted, his hand gripping your hair, arching your head back at an uncomfortable angle. “You know what to say if you’re done.”
Safeword. You shook your head, you wanted the pain - wanted the pleasure that came with it, wanted anything he would give you. The door opened, but he kept your head at an angle you couldn’t see. You didn’t need to see to know who it was, her presence and the scent of jasmine and lemon verbena gave it away. Besides, Rowan wouldn’t let anyone but Aelin in here during this … at least you thought so. Maybe if you pissed him off enough he would shove you down in front of everyone and spank your ass raw. That idea thrilled and terrified you, but he was possessive enough it would never happen.
Rowan’s grip released, but a smaller hand wrapped around your chin, tilting you to meet Aelin’s eyes.
“Can’t stay still?” She purred. They must’ve had one of their silent conversations.
Words were too difficult, especially with Rowan slowly running his hand over your ass, deceptively gentle, so you shook your head as best you could.
She hummed, dropping you. Your cheek hit the comforter, and you had a few seconds to breathe, still keeping your eyes on her.
A wicked grin appeared on her face as your forearms crossed parallel over your back, one of Aelin’s hands pinning them in place - shoving you further into the bed, her other hand running through your hair. “Will you stay still for me? Be good?” She asked softly. The look on her face told you she wanted words, and you dragged them up the best you could.
“I’ll try.”
No more false promises.
“At least you’re honest,” she clicked her tongue, looking away from you.
Gods, you’d almost forgotten about Rowan.
Crack.
A half sob left you. He was hitting harder, and kept changing his rhythm - sometimes hitting the same place twice, others alternating, slowing to lull you into false security. You knew what he was waiting for, for the final proof of your submission - tears.
“You’re doing so well,” Aelin cooed, pushing away the strands of hair starting to stick to your face.
Crack.
You finally screamed, tears flooding in earnest, burying your head into the comforter, face rubbing against the soft fabric. Rowan’s hand gripped your hair brutally, forcing you to look at Aelin.
Her eyes were soft as she brushed the tears away with her thumb, gasps still leaving you. Pushing her thumb between your tips, instinctively you parted, tongue swirling around, sucking eagerly.
“Perfect, love,” she pulled her hand away, and glanced behind you. At Rowan. He released gently this time, Aelin’s hand left the small of your back - but you didn’t move. Couldn’t.
Your legs were shaking, your entire body shaking as you tried to center yourself.
Whimpering, you were tugged up the bed, raw skin rubbing against the fabric of Aelin’s pants as she held you close to her chest. You were keenly aware of the wet pooling between your legs, of the coil starting to build inside of you, and her hand trailed down your body as you pressed closer to her, twisting you bury your face in her chest. A small laugh, and you jerked as her fingers brushed against your core, gathering your arousal. The touch was gone as soon as it came, and you lifted your head just enough to see her extending her fingers to Rowan. His eyes on you as he took them in his mouth, tasting you on her.
Something like satisfaction in his eyes, that the pain he gave you turned into that. “I think she’s earned her reward.”
There wasn’t time to think further, no time to even throw out a thanks as Aelin’s skilled fingers found your center, slipping inside you as the heel of her palm ground into your clit. Rowan’s lips swallowed your moan, his canines tugging at your bottom lip as Aelin set a leisurely pace. You could taste yourself on him, he consumed you fully - his hand cupping your jaw to tilt you to the perfect angle for him.
“Please please please,” each word slipped into the other, mumbled against his lips like a prayer.
“Go on.”
Three harsh thrusts, and you were clenching around her - your entire body exploding, thrown over a cliff, head thrown back in something between a moan and a scream, maybe their names, you didn’t know.
Then you were falling, half present as your mind slowly crept back to the present. Underwater, voices muffled around you. All you felt was content, safe.
Minutes or hours later, cradled between two bodies, your head felt clear again.
“Hello,” you mumbled, looking up through half-lidded eyes at Rowan, Aelin curled behind you, snoring softly. You made a mental note to make fun of her for that later.
“Hello, love,” his thumb brushed across your cheekbone. Had he been watching you the entire time? “Good to have you back,” he pressed a kiss to your forehead, before tugging you - away from Aelin and into him. A disgruntled grunt behind you, followed by a snarl - you were oddly pleased that woke her up.
Exhaustion hit you, and even with their bickering and mini-territory war, you fell asleep against him.
#rowaelin x reader#poly!rowaelin x reader#throne of glass smut#rowaelin x y/n#poly!rowaelin x y/n#rowan whitethorn x reader#aelin galathynius x reader#rowan whitethorn x y/n#aelin galathynius x y/n#throne of glass imagine#throne of glass drabble
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