#this was supposed to be a silly doodle. but then i got sad so now it isnt
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nothing fits
#art#my art#the amazing digital circus#tadc#pomni#this was supposed to be a silly doodle. but then i got sad so now it isnt
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Hi hello Pluma 👋🏿
Hope you're doing well!
Got a little bit of a brainstorm for your dnd guys
Big squad is just traveling, or do they have some kind of goal? And – why are they all together?
Is there some particular world building you wanted to introduce, or mb it's just normal Faerun? I really like weird twists, like, then everything is flooded, orrrr maybe then there's no sun in this world! Or they have several moons... Just an idea to think about! :D
I also was thinking of spiderchair a lot-
Just imagine Scar running on the walls and ceilings cuz. Spider chair!!!
And I think Scar is often bored, then they are traveling on foot (he's too active fella to just sit and watch) – mb he has some kind of a hobby to keep his hands busy? Flute is cool and all, but the guy is VERY chatty, (what's why tbh I'm kinda sad he plays flute, no beautiful singing D:) and yea. I was thinking it might be wood carving, bit it's kinda doesn't fit him... Oh, I know! Mb magic tricks ?? I dunno, what do you think? :D
Oh and probably G is often complaining how tired he is from walking on foot... Is there on a chair somewhere a perch for him, or he's just unceremoniously sits on Scar's lap? :DD (Well they still can have horses but. Every horse would despise Grian u'all know that)
Yep... they are definitely The Wanted Criminals... Silly fellas QwQ
hi!!!!! :D <3 <3 <3
they do!! they eh. it's. again it's bits and pieces for now i hope you don't mind gkjdfkgjf. they kinda all have their own goals but they overlap more or less... they're all looking for a certain artefact, even ren's squad is :D i'll try to explain or draw stuff about it once i have all backstories linked up with it and can actually find the words to make it sound plausible LMAO
i'm not sure if i want the world to be very different from "standard" faerûn gfdkgjkfd i like the idea of multiple moons simply for the aesthetic :D and mmmm what's important is that gods are pretty close to mortals and even interfere every now and then. and i suppose the place they're in is coastal, since there's a lot of characters have some kind of connection to the ocean :D
scar is strapped into his spider chair so it should definitely be able to walk on walls!!!! idc if that's overpowered the chair is a magic item ok he gets to have a cool chair!!!!!!!
also yes yes he definitely plays music and doodles a lot!!! :D ohhhh you're right about the singing gfdkjgkjdf maybe i'll also give him a string instrument as a treat :D I'M NOT PICKING FAVOURITES I JUST. YOU KNOW
grian can definitely perch on the chair. and he will. he likes feeling tall :) he uses his flight to scout ahead but it's so very tiring... let him on the chair scar pls...
HFDJKGJDFG i'm so sorry if the things i say about this au make no sense or don't connect or kgfjdkjg i'm not good at this. but i really liked your questions and ideas!!!!!!!!!! ;-;
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this is a dump about the uglydolls movie novel 💋💋💋
Alrighty I'm basically a regular here SO LETS GET TO IT
lodoeheie so I just got the movie novel of uglydolls because i need to fill my hunger for uglydolls content and THERE R SO MANY LITTLE DETAILS AND DIFFERENCES IN THE BOOK???!!???
ok so Lou's monologue in the pipes are completely different and they kind of point out details about Lou like his loafers being expensive and allat
BUT IM NOT TALING ABOTU TAGT
there's this one part in the book where they are about to reveal Ox after the all dolled up scene and instead of Ox, Nolan was behind Lou???? I think it was just supposed to show how awkward Nolan is idk 💀💀
ALSO for some reason I feel like EVERUTIME Nolan made an appearance they always described him as "the handsome doll" and I find that so so silly but I love it
oh YEYEHA it's implied in the book that the dolls wear their own clothes when they aren't doing training which was not the case in the movie (probably due to animation complications)
in the gauntlet scene, in the book, it was Mandy who kinda taunted Lou to participate in the gauntlet rather than him deciding to buy himself. Also it made me think why he even decided to join it in both medias when he knew he'd fail but my friend and I just established that at that point he was probably already batshit crazy and had nothing to lose
the whole Ox flashback part was longer and had more details to it. So both Lou and Ox went for the gauntlet together and completed it but it showed that they failed and everyone thought it was Ox that caused them to fail when it was really Lou (kind of sad that Lou probably knew it was himself and had to put the blame on Ox)
it was also mentioned that both Lou and Nolan have somewhat of a muscular build so time to make some new head cannons
IM SO SORRY THAT THESE POINTS WERE ALL OVER THE PLACE AND THERE'S TYPOS EVERYWHERE
I just found thrse so interesting I'm so sorry
the book is pretty good imo (probably biased) and there's more stuff than what I put here so DEFINITELY go read it for yourself
why hello, we meet again... time for more rambling xD STRAP IN EVERYONE!
yes!! i've known about the novel for a hot minute. i haven't bought or read it (...yet) but i remember seeing silentreadersmatter (i believe?) post about it on wattpad... so shoutout to them lol. anywho time to respond to each thing mentioned in order (just about)...
lou with loafers!!: i always assumed he wore some sort of fancy shoewear... so it's nifty that they added clarification i guess xD
awkward nolan: awkward nolan is the superior nolan (in my opinion. i'm sorry lads)... i see nolan be depicted as a 'uwu soft boy bottom" most of the time... but i always thought he was just a awkward doll. like, an anxious mess that is trying his best but fumbles constantly. he's a ball of anxiety, and i love him. ANYWAYS
buff nolan real??: GOSH, I AM SO GLAD SOMEONE NOTICED THE MUSCULAR NOLAN THING. i always imagined nolan to be taller than the other dolls (he isn't really in the film but i always headcanoned it so because his uniform is smaller as if he was too big for it) but once i saw him be called "handsome" and "tall" and "muscular" in the novel, i flipped. the little baby boy is actually a BIG BUFF BABY. i have a doodle of this from a few months ago heheh... (thank you for giving me an excuse to show it because it's been lingering in my files for a while LMAO)
^^^ lou is just trying to act evil and devious but he got this tall, handsome muscular doll getting in his way xD
ohhh but i can just imagine instead of the robot dog taking lou to the washer, nolan personally picks him up and drags him there. now THAT'S a moment i want to see.
fashion: oh, i didn't know about the clothes thing! DAMNIT i want to see them all in casual clothing, so i know what kind of styles they wear!! i mean, there's a concept art with lou in a white jumper with a golden 'L' on it... but that's all.
i have my headcanons for what they wear, but it would be cool to see... especially since most other dolls normally do have numerous outfits for the kids to dress them up in.
gauntlet: yeah, lou kinda lost the plot around that point. i would take a guess that he was probably unnerved by just basically killing two dolls, one that he knew (possibly for a while) and one that was close to his old friend, so when he saw mandy still alive he was like "well sh*t." and then came the downward spiral of him trying to sabotage the others, before inevitably sabotaging himself. ...but i think the book's version of mandy getting the crowds to peer pressure lou to joining the gauntlet made more sense (lou's reputation would be at stake and his reputation is basically all he has) than him joining anyways in the film. i guess they tried to make it make more sense with the whole "I don't even have to win. I just need to make sure you lose." but ehh... eh....
ox's tragic anime backstory: yes!! they should've done this version in the film honestly. perhaps they could've even shown lou's regret for lying to basically his only friend. ...oh wait, i forgot. lou's meant to be a 100% evil villain who kicks babies. anyways, again i feel that the novel made more sense than the canon we got in film. i guess in the film ox got recycled because he was causing others to fail by accident? but the novel's version is much more interesting.
if i remember correctly (and if i don't, count this as a rewritten version lol) the assistant robots took ox away after he 'failed' in the novel. i can imagine a scene where we are in ox's perspective, being forcefully dragged away to the pipes whilst lou looks at him, dread and sadness written across his face, yet he doesn't try to stop the robots. he just stands there, biting back his guilt. ohh... if only...
STRONG BOYS!!: heheheheh strong nolan and lou... would be funny if nolan didn't appear strong, but is actually stronger than lou. but then again, how can you tell if the doll is strong? they all look like same. lou says his arms are bumped or whatever in ugly truth but WHERE? WHERE'S THE BUMPED ARMS LOU??
anywho, thank you for the novella lore dump! for anyone who is interested, go check out the novel as well. it's pretty interesting if you are deep into doll purgatory. (also it's mentioned that ox used to wear a fedora from what i remember)(THAT IS TERRIBLE. I LOVE IT)
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And it’s Tumblr, so not only do we have to have a vampire, we have to have an object head!! It’s @lightgriffinsect’s SET NOTATION!! Yes, as in the mathematical concept. Because that’s what he is, but personified! He goes by he/him!
He has a LOT of information, despite only being 2 days old at the time of submission! You know what’s coming!
Now what could the funny math man possibly have about him?
“He's a goofy little guy I created two days ago. Set is the personification of set theory, a math principle that I am bad at and subsequently hate. His puny existence originated with a doodle I absently made in my study resource book, much to the chagrin of my maths tutor. I drew myself angrily shaking my fist at a person with a Venn diagram head, since Venn diagrams are a big thing in sets. Originally it was just supposed to be the Venn diagram, but then I added a little sweat bead in the corner and I thought it gave it a lot of personality and it spiraled from there. Now he's got a mouth and a cute little ξ next to his head since that's one of the symbols of universal set.
His face, a rectangular translucent sort of screen, essentially IS the universal set. Within it he can display whatever he wants, because it all counts as a subset of the universal set. Set's face functions similar to the screen of a TV head character as he can pull up any diagrams or images he wants on it. The appearance of the Venn diagram typically on his face can change in the number of sets displayed and even in the shading depending on his mood. He's a very expressive lil dude.
Set is a bit on the smaller side, at a height of 5'7" (170 cm). He also is rather thin, although his figure is more often than not hidden by his outfit. He tends to walk in a harried manner, being a nervous guy, but he can be surprisingly graceful, since he can dance.
Set prefers wearing modest, loose-fitting clothing like oversized sweaters, and his favorite one is turquoise. He also wears a black top beneath it and black jeans. And he wears three-inch heels like the funky boy he is <3 I may hate sets but I love Set.
Set is very timid and socially awkward, and a bit of a coward. He has many phobias, including arachnophobia, acrophobia, and agoraphobia. And those are just the ones starting with A. He speaks almost exclusively in set language, a fact that he's quite shy about. It's part of why he usually doesn't approach others for a conversation first. However, he turns out to be very kind and friendly once you get to know him. He's very quiet but likes spending time with people. He's interested in webcomics and digital art, and for obvious reasons he is very good at mathematics. As a result he works as an accountant. He also has a lot of general and practical knowledge and is a fast learner, despite seeming innocent and sheltered at first glance.”
Oh, what a funny little guy! Why should you vote for him?
“He's a silly pathetic boy! The only reason he even exists is because I wanted to make a doodle bashing the concept of sets, which I developed a grudge against in 8th grade (at the age of 13) and am now too committed to let go of. However, in the two days since I have created a persona for this maths principle, I've grown strangely attached to this little guy. He's just so dorky and awkward and timid and I can relate. I bet a lot of people can relate. Set just wants to read webcomics and draw and learn things. He likes his job, something not a lot of people get to experience anymore. I don't know, I had a lot of fun personifying a math concept and building his personality beyond "why do we need this topic". I was quickly able to come up with a fun design for Set that I'm satisfied with. He also just turned out to be very likeable even though he's based off a topic I don't even like. He fits the principle he was based on so well, but he's still got a character beyond that. Vote for him because he's a sweet, sad, and shy little dude, and because he's a character that was made and exists purely out of enjoyment and fun.”
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Stranger Things Prompts Part 4
If you wish to request one message me anytime.
Previous Prompt Lists: Part One / Part Two / Part Three / Masterlist
General
"To wake up everyday and do what you do. Expecting nothing in return. You didn't have to help them. You could have just walked away."
"On a lighter note, I think you need to brush up on your Latin."
"I'm sorry for your loss. I'm sure you'll find him soon."
"I have nothing left to say, I'm sorry I wish I knew what to say to make you happier about it. But I haven't got a clue."
"Death isn't the end. It's a new beginning for the next generation and the one after that one too."
Marianna and Kolya based prompts
"I understand if you no longer want to be friends. If it made you happier to do so. All you have to do is say it and I'll leave. We'll both leave."
"We did things no one else wanted to do. So we're used to the disappointment and the cruelty. It also means that you have to be."
"Understand that we do this so you don't have to. You have more to live for."
"God doesn't want me and the devil isn't finished." (Reddington line from The Blacklist)
"I have a better chance of getting in and out of there on my own. You lot, can stay out here and make sure you don't get yourselves killed." - Marianna to Eddie, Steve and the others.
"To see it's beauty, to must understand the fundamentals and to gorge yourself on the details. Consume as much as you can to become one with it." - Marianna talking about passion projects, etc.
"Latin is an old language that is considered to be deceased. I find it quite fascinating that it is. It's the main reason I learnt it in the first place, besides most of the Latin phrases are quite beautiful."
Angst
"You've ruined everything."
"You don't understand what you're missing until it's gone."
"Fine. Hand me the gun. I'll kill them myself."
"I guess my expectations were too high."
"You can't run forever."
"I'm starting to think you want to get yourself killed."
"What's the point of trying if it just proves that I'll never be good enough?"
"Giving up is the hardest thing I ever had to do."
"I hope you're happy with yourself."
"When will you take me seriously?"
"Death sounds pretty good right now."
"It wasn't a fucking accident and you know it."
Scenario
Person A brutally murdering their captor, only to return home and break down, realizing what they have done.
Person B throws up while Person A rubs their back and holds back their hair.
In a kingdom, Person B is the successor of the throne, but they fall in love with Person A who is a simple baker. Person B would rather live a simple life running the bakery with Person A than rule the kingdom.
Everyone around Person B and Person A know they have something going on, but they are completely oblivious.
Person A can tell that Person B is having a nightmare because they’re making weird noises/motions in their sleep so Person A wakes them up and asks if they’re okay.
Person A makes hot chocolate for Person B but when they hand them their mug, Person A drops it spilling the piping hot drink on Person B. Person A then helps Person B clean themself up and treat any burns they might have.
Person A and Person B were supposed to go out for a date but a snow storm hits and they get snowed in. Person A is really sad about it so Person B builds them a blanket fort so they can spend the evening snuggling and watching Christmas movies together.
Person B and Person A watching a horror movie and Person A is scared to sleep alone, so Person B keeps them awake all night, talking about whatever comes to mind.
A friend drawing on Person A and Person B's faces when they sleep. They wake up to see each other faces covered in silly doodles.
Person A and Person B go to a fair/amusement park and Person A wants to go on the roller coaster and Person B agrees. Later, Person B regrets their decision and ends up clinging onto Person A for dear life.
Person B hiding in a closet to jump out and surprise Person A, but Person A just keeps not going near the closet by chance.
Person A having pizzas delivered unaware that Person B has also ordered pizzas and both of them bursting into laughter when two pizza delivery people arrive at the door.
Person A, who is usually not the type to show negative emotion, breaks down in front of Person b.
Imagine Person A and Person B as secret santas.
Person A and B both frequent the same arcade and both have the same favorite arcade game. When Person A gets the new highscore Person B comes back the next weekend and tops that score. In a slightly childish back and forth they keep trying to beat each others highscores every weekend. When Person C comes in and tops both of their highscores by a huge margin they have to team up to beat Person C, together.
#Stranger Things#stranger things#Stranger Things Imagine#stranger things imagine#Stranger Things Fanfiction#stranger things fanfiction#Stranger Things Fanfic#stranger things fanfic#Stranger Things Drabble#stranger things drabble#Stranger Things One Shot#stranger things one shot#Stranger Things Prompt List#stranger things prompt list#Prompt List#prompt list#Eddie Munson Prompts#Eddie Munson#Steve Harrington Prompts#Steve Harrington#Billy Hargrove Prompts#Billy Hargrove#Dustin Henderson#Mike Wheeler#Nancy Wheeler#Eleven#Jane Hopper#Jane Ives#Will Byers#Lucas Sinclair
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yooooooo can we get a part two to the ranboo’s guide fanfic? no worries if not it was just poggers af
yooooooooo i got you, bestie! It was honestly supposed to be much longer than that but I ran out of time, so here’s the part two I kept from yall! This ended up waaay longer than I expected it to be but thank you and I hope you like this too!!!
Ranboo’s Unfinished Guide to a Physically Affectionate Friend (RFG-PAF)
Continuation of RUG-PAF
Words -> 2213 Words (sheeesh)
Themes -> School setting, a bit crack-ish, love language (physical touch - Reader side in the beginning), facial dysmorphia (comfort)
Art Credit -> Halfy Draws (From YT!) (POV: Ranboo being proud of having you as a bestie)
“You’re so lucky you’re not taking the secondary test.”
“I asked you if you wanted to review with me the first time, but it was apparently ‘easy enough’ to not need a serious review,” you huffed at his reasonable point, taking the black notebook from his hand and shoving it into your bag with more force than necessary.
Ranboo shakes his head, amused smile on his face before patting your head like a child. It took all your willpower not to kick him between the legs at his unintentional belittling.
This was two weeks ago. With two days left before the mandatory final exam, you’ve only just remembered about Ranboo’s notes that he leant you to help. Your panic from your procrastination slightly relieved at the idea of extra aid.
“Benefits of having a genius friend in the honor roll,” the neglected notebook looked a little sad from being crumpled in the edges, tossed and turned nonchalantly in your messy bag.
The first page had a rough list of your friend’s schedule for this semester, adorned at the bottom right corner by his silly signature. The next few pages were classroom rules and little notes, before proceeding to pages of his infamous art style, random doodles of things that some you can’t even recognize.
Endearing as it all may, your confusion furthered when the pages after are blank now. “Did Ranboo give me the wrong notebook?” With your other hand, you started scrolling through your contacts to call your friend, dominant one holding the pages upwards to skim through the contents quicker.
Until it stops at a page in the middle where a random list showed itself - what?
Carelessly putting your ringing phone between your shoulder and cheek, your hands brought the notebook closer to your face for better inspection. Curiosity getting the best of you.
3. Do not refuse their massages, they are heavenly. Please hit me with a bat if I refuse one of their back massages
Massages? Massages... you hum to yourself, trying to remember the times that you have indeed pampered your friend with a massage.
“Hey chat, I gotta for a quick break. Give me like five minutes, yeah?” There was one time during a stream day that you remember vaguely; you looked up from your Youtube recommendations, sitting up from Ranboo’s bed to see the boy himself dragging himself over to your place.
You shot him a confused place, he only shook his head (face covered for safety measures) before flopping himself on the mattress. Across your stretched out legs.
Ranboo rarely takes breaks between his streams, other than to pee or fetch something. And from what you’ve gathered with your divided attention, there weren’t any issues with chat or the stream itself.
“You good, big guy?” Your unoccupied hand found purchase between his shoulders, kneading with your palm through his shirt - this caused him to groan, tense before completely relaxing on the mattress (and your legs, can’t forget you’re trapped) again. This response urged you to continue using both hands now after closing your phone.
A couple sighs of relief. “My back has been hurting a lot lately.”
“Ah,” you dragged the heel of your palm against a knot on his left shoulder, rubbing it until his tension from the area eases, “Tall people problems.”
Did Ranboo just purr? “Not just tall people, it’s a common problem. You have back problems too.”
“Touché.” The quiet calmness was filled with nothing but Ranboo’s occasional grunts, the rustling of fabric, and a Discord ping here and there. The stiffness of his back had relaxed significantly yet he’s still not letting up from laying on your legs.
Your legs had lost feeling. You stretch your back as well after being hunched over when Ranboo suddenly shot up from the bed, hugging you in your shocked state before practically leaping towards his streaming set up. “Heeey there, I’m alive, I’m alive. Yes, I know that wasn’t just five minutes, let’s say something came up. Anyways, where were we-”
He ignores the glare directed at the back of his gaming chair, the sharp tingles of feeling slowly creeping in to your dead legs.
4. Sometimes their way of comfort is through hugs and that is a-okay. It's honestly super effective!
This one is a memory to keep, bittersweet as it may.
During the time of Ranboo's sudden rise in popularity, and honestly all throughout his journey, you've always been updated. From his Twitter, to when he streams, even as one of the first people to enter his Discord. This monitoring only widened as he reached Instagram and Tiktok.
It feels weird sometimes, being by his side all this time knowing who he is and what he looks, what he feels and what he does while everyone else in the world can only hope - imagine! To be in your position. And despite everything being a secondhand experience...
You can only feel barely half of the pressure Ranboo 100% feels.
"I'm coming in," the light from the hallway invades the pure darkness of his room, nothing but the illumination of his keyboard had given the place a glow. You called out softly, whispering, afraid to break the thick silence.
A subtle movement happens in your peripherals when you called out his real name. There you saw his head pop up from the other side of his bed, body hunched and leaning against the side of his bed frame, arms hugging his folded knees. You closed the door behind you before crawling up and over his bed.
"Sorry you had to see this," he mumbled when you were close enough, head leaning back to rest against the mattress. With your stomach on the bed, you reached over to wrap your arms around his neck. "To see me like this."
"Tell me what happened," a kiss to the crown of his hair broke the cracked walls of the dam. It was always so easy for you to coax the pain out of him, to lay it all bare as you hold him tightly to ground him, remind him you're still there to listen.
His dysmorphia had worsened when you thought you'd hyped him enough to gain the right courage to open up to the world. And suddenly it’s back and worse than ever. Ranboo kept his eyes on the ceiling while your hand travelled to his hair to card your fingers through, letting him have his time to vent. All his feelings he’d bottled up from everyone. Even from you.
At the end of his rant he suddenly pulled away from the bed, back turned to you as he rubbed at his eyes.
You’ve always loved his gray eyes and throughout this whole scenario he hasn’t met your eyes once. “Ranboo, look me in the eyes,” his shoulders tensed but didn’t move. “Turn around and look at me, please.”
He knew him denying would only prolong the inevitable, and so with one last sigh he turns ever slowly to face you. Your hand shot out to his face and he yelped, closing his eyes by instinct. His fluffy cloud of a hair was on the way, so you pushed it away.
A pressure on his forehead forced Ranboo to open his eyes out of curiosity. “Hey there.” The reflection of his own on your eyes so close to him made him freeze. “Ranboo, why do you want to do a face reveal?”
“It’s.. because I - I promised when I reached this sub count that I would,” your hum to urge him to continue made him go on, “And you know? It would be really convenient, for vlogging, for streaming. It’s also nice not to fear accidentally doing a face reveal every minute of my career.”
The one-sided tension he felt slipped away when he was distracted on the way you booped your noses together. Albeit still a quiet moment, you both spared a soft chuckle. “I may not be good with words,” he almost laughed when you didn’t finish the phrase ‘till he realized you’re being anxious too. “You know me, I’m a hugs person.”
The usual smile on his face made you sigh in relief. “Keep going, you got this,” he nuzzled your noses in comfort.
“Damn it, Boo, I’m supposed to be the one comforting you!” You whined and he laughed again, this time more lively than before. “I’m just pointing out that - this face reveal? In the end of the day, this isn’t about them, this isn’t about what they think of you. Because...
You’re not here to prove them right or wrong, you’re not here to prove a point, you’re here for yourself. No matter what they say, what matters most is what you think and what you want.”
A few seconds passed as you watched your friend’s face for any shifts. And you gasped when his eyes suddenly misted over, about to cry - in your panic you leaned back to give him space, but that’s opposite of what he wanted.
Next thing you know you’re a groaning-in-pain, tangled mess on the floor from when he’d pulled you in his own panic. Your right hip and elbow hurt from the impact and this giant teddy bear have you locked in his arms. “Ow, Ranboo, geezus, what the-” And your protests died at the muffled whimpers next to your ear, that part of your shirt feeling damper by the second.
Without another second you wrapped him in your best hug, cradling him in the comfort of the darkness of his room until he himself breaks the hug.
It was one of the bittersweet memories you had about your friendship with Ranboo, but it was the catalyst to the closeness you have now. The first time he had freely cried in your presence, the vulnerability from utmost trust
“(Y/N)? You there?” Huh? Your startling made the phone on your shoulder fall to the open notebook you’ve been staring at for minutes now, stuck in remembering. “What in the world was that noise?”
Shoot, you forgot about the call! “Heeey, Ranboo,” you picked up the phone up to your ear again, closing the book with the other as you stretched your limbs. You heard him hum in greeting, your mind pondering on what to say next as you tapped your fingers on the notebook’s cover. “Can I come over?”
“Of course you can!”
Ranboo had just ended a Discord call with Tubbo when the knock came to his door, and when he went over to open it was when he remembered you were coming over. His joy when seeing you is apparent, bending down to welcome you with a hug before you could even initiate before urging you inside.
The school bag slung over your shoulder gave him an idea of your purpose. “You need help with your test?”
“Something like that.” And when you pulled out the familiar notebook, it took him a few seconds to understand the implications, from his confusion on why he still had his notes a while back to your flushed expression that shies from direct eye contact.
“Oh God, did you actually read it?” The notebook left your hand like a thief to an old lady’s purse.
“Yeahh,” before the apology could leave his lips, you offered a hug that he gladly bends down to, just to ease his prior assumptions. “I’m not mad! Or weirded out, or whatever! I think it’s really sweet! I’m very happy to have you, Ranboo.”
The way he placed his weight on you so carelessly almost made you trip backwards if not for the arms wrapped around your waist. “Oh thank goodness, I really thought I messed up badly. I’m happy, and lucky to have you as well, (YN). More than you’ll ever know.”
Hours had passed after the initial surprise and it was nearing midnight when Ranboo checked the clock in his computer. Two hours of brute forcing the knowledge into your brain with Ranboo, and an hour more of him leaving you be to play with his friends. “Hey, how’s reviewing going-”
Turning his gaming chair gave him a sight. Of you sprawled out on his bed, the black notebook (the right one this time!) laying on your face, conveniently blocking the light from the bulbs ahead to not disrupt your sleep.
Your friend let out a sigh, a mirthful smile tickling his lips at the antics of his best friend.
“What did you honestly expect, Ranboo, you should have known.” He mumbled to himself as he left his set up, packing the items strewn about his bed and you on to the night stand next to it. The sight of the first black notebook (the wrong one) made him stop in his tracks, eyes flicking between the accursed item and the light switch.
And not a second longer he submits to his plan, pen in hand.
5. If you end up catching your friend's love language, that is perfectly fine. Normalize men with feelings, normalize loving your homies because they deserve it.
Lights off, Ranboo slips under the blankets next to you, the action making your sleepy self hug what you assumed was a long, oversized pillow.
The long, oversized pillow hugs back.
#ranboo x reader#dream smp x reader#dsmp x reader#mcyt x reader#mine:gold#mine:emerald#gender neutral reader
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It was not often that Emperor Belos visited Hunter’s room.
Usually he was working on the portal or in his throne room, or occasionally roaming the castle halls after dark. Hunter had once seen him without his mask, staring at a mural of the Savage Ages. He’d somehow looked equally disgusted and wistful. He was saying something under his breath that could’ve been a conversation, had there been anyone around to talk to.
Hunter had left his uncle alone that night.
But today Hunter was just sitting in his room doodling Red, waiting for new orders to come in. He’d grown weirdly attached to the palisman since they had flown in his window, and they were a wonderful model, sitting perfectly still while he tried to capture every detail and shadow. He wasn’t very good, but he was sure he was improving.
That was when a gentle, yet resounding knock sounded from the other side of his door, and a familiar voice asked, “Hunter, may I come in?”
Hunter’s eyes went wide and his palisman ducked under his pillow in a flash. He stashed his drawings under the bed and said, “Come in!”
Emperor Belos pushed open the door with the care of a potionist concocting a delicate brew. He was wearing his mask, but it looked like he’d thrown it on in a hurry and hadn’t tucked his hair out of the way, instead having it tied loosely up into a ponytail.
Hunter always got deja-vu when he saw his uncle with this hairstyle. The last time he’d had it up like this was when Hunter had accidentally damaged his staff and Belos had gladly agreed to help him fix it. He wasn’t sure why his uncle had been so eager to help him fix his mistake. It seemed like every passing day made Belos’ curse worsen, and his fuse shorten.
But even with his outbursts of violence (which were all perfectly reasonable considering the circumstances of each one), Belos still cared about Hunter. He trusted him with secrets he never told anyone else, and appreciated and cared about him as long as he stayed loyal and useful. Hunter remembered the stories his uncle would tell when he was little, tales of two brothers who went on adventures and quests and sometimes messed up, but ultimately cared about each other above all else.
Belos had never told the character’s names, but Hunter had always kind of imaged them in his head as himself and his uncle. He wasn’t sure why, but it was just what felt right.
Belos’ hand hovered in midair for a moment, before he reached up to take off his mask. The door shut behind him and he sat down next to Hunter, looking at the wall.
“Are you alright, Uncle?”
“Yes,” he smiled a little bit. “Thanks mainly to you. I’m proud of you for getting the Titan’s blood. You did well.”
“I almost didn’t,” Hunter replied, looking away. “I almost failed again.”
“We mustn’t dwell on would’ves and could’ves,” Belos waved a hand almost dismissively, as though he was clearing himself of those thoughts as well. “What matters is that the Day of Unity is closer than ever, and it’s because of your hard work.”
Hunter couldn’t help but smile. “Thank you, Emperor Belos.” He paused, recalling a question he’d never been able to ask. The last time he’d wondered about this aloud, Belos had turned him away and said, “Maybe at a later time.”
But now seemed like as good a time as any - he’d come into Hunter’s room, most likely just to talk to him. The Titan’s plans were going smoothly and everyone had a moment to stop and breathe. But on the other hand, if Hunter asked, his uncle might leave. He might never get a chance to sit side-by-side with him like they were brothers again. But on the other other hand, what use was sitting in silence?
“Uncle, I’ve been… meaning to ask you something,” Hunter admitted finally before he could chicken out. He bit his lip as Belos turned his full attention on him, already regretting his decision. Well, no turning back now. “With the Titan’s blood acquired and the portal almost ready and how everyone’s taking a little break before the Day of Unity arrives, I thought it would be a good time to ask.” He swallowed. Moment of truth. “…Who were my parents? A-and I know they were killed by wild magic,” he added, “but what were they like before?”
Belos’ expression turned from listening intently to horrified to very, very sad in less than a heartbeat.
Hunter’s back straightened. “I-I mean, y-you don’t have to-“
Belos held up a hand, silencing his nephew. “No, it’s alright. You have a right to ask. It’s only fair after the trouble I’ve put you through.” He chuckled, but it was dry in his throat. “I didn’t…” He hesitated.
“Your mother was a wonderful woman. She was always going off to slay beasts or tame small creatures. I know she loved animals and had a fiery spirit. And your father loved her very, very much.” He paused. “We didn’t part on the best of terms. I wish I could’ve told her that I was happy for her.”
“You said not to dwell on would’ves and could’ves,” Hunter pointed out. Belos smiled again.
“Yes, well, I suppose deep down we’re all sentimental old historians,” his uncle responded. “Now, I knew your father very well. He and I would always get into all kinds of trouble. It hardly mattered when one of us fell, because the other would help him back to his feet. We almost never saw eye-to-eye, always butting heads, but it was the kind of friendly rivalry good friends are supposed to have. He was like a brother to me.” His expression hardened.
“I’m sorry you don’t have a sibling, Hunter.”
“I-“ the witch paused. This thought had occurred to him only once, back when he was little. It was a silly thought - who needed a sibling when your uncle was the emperor of the Boiling Isles, and your family was his entire Coven? Hunter didn’t need friends to weigh him down, not when he had big things to accomplish. “What do you mean? I have you.”
Belos visibly winced, and Hunter flinched. He’d said something wrong, now he was going to be left alone again, or maybe worse, please don’t-
But the emperor didn’t move beyond that, and instead let out a long, drawn-out sigh. “You are the spitting image of him.”
Hunter took a moment to process this. “My father?” he finally asked. Instead of replying, Belos stood up. Hunter’s worry increased. He had said something wrong, he had upset his uncle! “I’m sorry,” he stood up as well. “Whatever I said wrong, I didn’t-“
“It’s not your fault, Hunter. I must get back to work.” Belos put his mask back on, and then he was gone. The door shut behind him with a click.
Hunter buried his head in his pillow with a muffled sob. An indignant chirp startled him from his wallowing in self-pity.
“Huh?” he sat up, ramrod straight. “Red?”
“Chirp, chirp chirp chirp tweet,” the little bird palisman replied, hopping from one foot to the other.
Hunter let out a yelp of surprise. “He is not!”
The little bird cocked their head at him. “Chirp chirp tweet, chirp.”
“Alright, maybe that,” he admitted. “Did you listen to that whole conversation?”
“Tweet tweet tweet,” Red swooped down and scooped up the drawings from under the bed. “Tweet chirp chirp chirp tweet.”
“Haha, fine,” Hunter picked up his pencil. “What was the pose you were doing earlier?”
“Tweet chirp tweet tweet tweet,” Red hopped up onto his shoulder and craned their neck towards an unknown source above and in front of Hunter. Somehow he was able to draw it, and it came much easier to him than the other poses Red had struck so far. He even added himself, with the bird on his shoulder. It looked pretty good. He held up the picture to show the little palisman. “What do you think?”
“Chirp,” the birdlike, wooden creature responded. Hunter laughed.
“Okay, but only a few more.”
#no context only bird noises#emperor belos#hunter the golden guard#lil rascal#the wittebane brothers#grimwalkers#belos being kind of not a terrible parental figure#but he’s still a jerk don’t worry#the owl house#toh spoilers#fanfiction
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oh boy, do i have wonderful beast oda/odazai info for you all since this may just be my favorite chapter in all of beast. it clarified a lot about oda's state in this au, and how sad it truly is, especially with all that dazai has done to ensure that oda's safety is certain
before i start, this was initially intended to be a quirky little twitter thread that’s supposed to be kicked off with a badly drawn doodle of something meme. the thread was supposed to be about how wonderfully dumb odasaku can be and how annoyingly frustrating dazai is in the latest beast chapter... and then it slowly devolved into a crudely written essay about small discoveries i’ve made that most likely haven’t been pointed out before, so i recommend that anyone interested in either oda or odazai to check this out
so i finally got around to reading the new beast chapter and seeing how odasaku constantly devalues himself and finds that he's lesser than the average person is… sad. its been said that him and ranpo are the stars of the ada, every mission trivial with their cooperation, and yet he doesn't see any of that. thinks he struck luck when it came to his entrance exam, which he specifies that it wasn't as a result of his own skills. his inferiority complex is embedded so deep that despite his achievements, he doesn't at all believe he has any worth as a human.
i'm just a tired, ordinary man like you could find anywhere. a third-rate detective, as unexceptional as a fallen cigarette butt on the road.
and his entrance exam was just like dazai's: the azure messenger case, which we all know wasn't at all a walk in the park. one mistake, and it would spell disaster for the city that the ada was trying to protect. no--not just the city, it would also mean the end of the ada as we know it. despite it all, he resolved it much to his own surprise, and it was all thanks to an "unexpected" gift. and that gift? who would it be other than from dazai himself?
beast light novel ch. 3
(also, this is a shaky claim at best but I feel as if oda fully holds the capabilities to solve the case alone, but dazai knew that with odasaku's persistent feelings of self-doubt, along with his lack of some of the vivacity that dazai held to weasel his way through to information, the outcome of success wouldn’t be guaranteed. and so, dazai lent him something to ensure his success)
and yet, oda is blind to see truly how much intellect and skill he possesses. he doesn't realize how integral he was to the quest of the azure messenger, doesn't acknowledge that without him these orphans would have either slipped into a life of crime, gone to a downtrodden orphanage, or simply passed away, and he doesn't know that despite it all, he's one of the purest characters in the story, even with the darkness that will forever cling to him, a reminder of the violence that marred his past.
not to mention that oda, in one way or another, effectively analyzed the current situation that they're stuck in. he noted that if things currently go the way they're going, no matter what akutagawa achieves, him and his sister are doomed. so, oda brilliantly decided to go after the port mafia itself to prepare for this possibility, and it's nothing short of genius. and dazai plays along with this… because it is oda, after all.
and everything dazai did, everything he sacrificed, it was all for oda.
now to the underlying tragedy of this chapter. take a look at this panel:
ever since then, i've been making a living by solving requests that come to the detective agency.
i provide for the orphans
i drink coffee.
i gamble a bit on days off.
at night, i write a novel in the kitchen.
that's my life.
nothing unusual, right? you'd think that odasaku was satisfied with life, since he has everything he had ever wished for. but in all actuality, he still lacks one important thing.
and that's friendship.
his words sounded so… empty. achieving ones dreams is but one aspect of life that brings one gratification, but doesn't necessarily mean it would guarantee lasting happiness. (think of famous actors or celebrities that spiral into depression even after they've achieved their dreams).
in that panel, he says he cares for the orphans, gambles, and writes alone in his spare time, but not a word of spending time with friends… something he had in the root universe, something that was lost to him in this one.
and he says this all with his face blacked out, as if he's somewhat implicitly dissatisfied (while the kid's faces are present, not at all concealed).
with dazai, he found peace in a place where peace is rare to find. They both completely put their guard down with each other around, and dazai can relax his overly speculative mind with oda. and they understood each other, a level of understanding rare to come by. dazai with his dark jokes easily flies past oda's ears because that's what they are, harmless jokes. and oda with his blunt honesty, which dazai cherishes and never prods him for it.
dazai also saw things in oda that oda was blind to. dazai saw a world of beauty in oda, the ray of light beneath a cloudy sky. he saw both intelligence and wisdom, kindness and generosity. and most of all, he trusted oda, despite dazai’s natural inclination to distrust.
and what oda saw in dazai was vulnerability. despite the front that dazai puts, he can be kind, even empathetic, when the situation calls for it. dazai once gave akutagawa a decision to turn his back against dazai’s offer to join the port mafia, when logic points to the fact that he didn't have to, but wanted to.
dazai also consistently gives atsushi words of advice and shows understanding when dazai was under no obligation to, such as atsushi facing the loss of his previous caretaker. dazai gave atsushi genuine advice, not laced with any malice or ill intent. dazai had even left atsushi to grieve alone, fully understanding that atsushi needed to pour his emotions out in private. there’s more than enough instances of dazai showing this side of himself in both the light novels and manga, but it seems to sometimes be brushed aside. even though the main cast of characters always dismissed this side of dazai, oda has always known that this side of dazai was his truest self.
oda and dazai also talked endlessly about trivial things, calling each other daily for two hours for no reason other than that they each enjoy one another's company. it's pure, wholesome love. they had a mutual trust and understanding between one another, which ango, another friend of theirs, severely lacked in his friendship with them.
oda's dream was to write, gone unfulfilled in the root universe, but he died happily knowing that the one he cares for is living in the path of light. dazai's was to find a reason to live, which he found in oda, and continues to use this as motivation long after oda passed.
in beast, dazai's dream was cut short, ultimately leading to his demise at the end. after all, his one reason to live is now robbed from him. however, oda's dreams have become a reality, but can one really say he achieved happiness? he has the orphans, his children, but they will never understand him like dazai had. he has peace, but is it the form of peace he wanted? spending time alone, on things like gambling, while endlessly mulling how he has no one to spend this time with?
and writing, his one true wish that dazai made absolutely sure to make a reality. but was it worth it, at the cost of a friend who brought happiness and reprieve when everyone else failed to?
i thought of this tale as a matter of equivalent exchange, you lose one life in exchange for another. the scales do remain somewhat balanced, but not over a matter of lives. it's over a matter of personal sacrifices, ones only known to us readers.
and i say "somewhat" because in the root universe, dazai remembered oda when he was alive, so well that dazai can recall memories to near perfection. but oda had completely forgotten dazai in beast, chasing after absent memories and deluding himself into thinking his life is perfect, while numbing himself from the aching hole of loneliness that consumes him inside.
also, oda is surely happy spending time with the children, but what about his lonesome hours? who is he going to spend that time with, in a world without dazai, the only person who understood him and his oddities?
ah, and remember this moment in the root universe?
now, take a look at this again. no, look closer
odasaku wasn’t merely gambling for the sake of it, he was gambling on a horse race. and before dazai was arrested in the root universe, he was seen doing just that.
now, why would odasaku do this? he surely doesn’t seem the type to gamble away his money on something as silly as horse races, because what does someone gain while they pour their money into something so senseless?
and the only reason i could arrive to is that dazai must have dragged him along to one. dazai is a port mafia executive, with more money than he knows what to do with and a boatload of depression. money probably disinterests him as much as life does, and he used gambling to kill two birds with one stone: ridding of money he doesn’t need, and distracting him from his boredom (and depression).
and it doesn’t end there. remember when dazai in dead apple had visited bar lupin to pay his regards to odasaku, while reliving a pleasant memory dazai had with him? and he did this because he was preparing for a quest that may result in with the loss of his life, psyching himself up for what’s to come. this is probably bordering on speculation, but i believe that that’s precisely what he did once again in the horse races. dazai paid a visit to a place that oda and him had frequented, to prepare for another dangerous quest.
also, note that immediately after exiting bar lupin in dead apple, dazai was confronted by ango, which kicked off the start of dazai’s plans. a similar thing happens in the manga, dazai spending time in a place that he and oda had gone to, this time the horse races, and his plan whirls into motion as jono arrests him. i think these similarities are deliberate, in order to establish their significance to dazai and oda.
this long winded explanation’s purpose was only for me to go back to this panel once again, and say that everything oda spoke about doing, from spending time with his kids, to brewing coffee, to betting on horse races, and to writing in the kitchen, were all moments he had with dazai.
and see that he has an extra chair that sits unused in the kitchen? at first, i thought it was there for the sake of being there. then, it slowly dawned on me that odasaku and dazai had noted in the dark era light novel that they made a habit of visiting each other, so it wouldn’t be illogical to conclude that it was a chair meant for dazai. a place where he can spend some private moments together with oda underneath the dimly lit kitchen, drinking in the scent of odasaku’s coffee and talking about things that distracts them from their troubles while odasaku whittles away at his manuscript.
and one last thing before i end this out of sheer laziness, take a look at this photograph of oda from the final moments of the beast light novel.
as oda stated in the manga and light novel, he worked on his manuscript alone in the kitchen... but in the photograph, he wasn’t alone. he’s posing for a picture. relaxed, poised, as if entertaining the one taking the photo. and besides, wasn’t it dazai who insisted on taking photographs in bar lupin with ango and oda in dark era? he must have done the same in that very moment in the beast universe, but this time in anticipation of oda forgetting him.
in the end, it seems oda and dazai left each other in similar ways, foolishly believing they've sacrificed their lives for each other to better the other's life, but all they did was create worlds where the feeling of happiness will be lost to both respective parties, while also resigning each other to a life of loneliness.
they've forgotten about their one happiness that stems from just being around one another, listening to the soothing tune of jazz playing softly as they talk into the night, the world lost to them as they're absorbed in one another's presence.
it seems like their story is a tragedy of what happens when you love someone too much, to the point that you delude yourself into thinking you're but a tool for their happiness, and with you gone, nothing will change.
but things did change, didn't they?
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smart decisions
warnings: drinking, angst, smut, fingering, nsfw, 18+
count: 10k+
hiiiiiiiii so i’m a horndog & i can’t get enough of rafe cameron (or drew) or college rafe & i also wanna cry over them so here you go. let me know whatcha thinkin’. please i’m begging you.
also the photo isn’t mine i got it from here!
songs i imagined - this one & this one
— — —
transferring colleges had to have been your smartest decision to date. going from putting your strengths into a place that was not willing to acknowledge them to, now, receiving credit where credit was most deservingly due. your first choice for school had been some place close to home, you figured why not opt for the cheaper option to save yourself, and your parents, a little money. you spent a few months getting into the swing of things, heading to class each day with a fresh mind and hopeful thoughts. it wasn’t until six months in that you realized you deserved so much better, and at a better school.
it took time, figuring out your best bet and where to go and all the finances. you definitely grew impatient a year in, trying to stick it out at home to receive your credits. but once the moment arrived, you packed all your things and moved states away. you loved it; you loved the classes, you loved your friends, you loved your professors. you were completely happy with your choice to go. your parents might not have been, but the weekly calls home for your progress report were substitute enough.
wednesday, 5 p.m.
you scribbled a doodle you had been going over and over, darkening the lines so much you saw it behind your eyelids now. you snapped out of it and looked back at your textbook.
the library was so quiet, you heard pages being turned from every corner, the chewing of gum from a tense jaw, and the soft snores of someone passed out in one of the private cubicles across the way. none of those things distracted you really since you had come to the study session with a couple of your friends, all three of you making a pact to get shit done.
melly was able to listen to music while she studied and was more of a typer as her fingers moved fast along the keys of her laptop. she came dressed in her comfiest clothes, sporting a knit sweater and joggers. lina had snacks across the table to keep her sustained. she was a strong believer that she learned better while being fed. it made you laugh still. she was a writer like you, very organized in her notes with highlighters and different colored pens. she even drew headers for each page for the hell of it. you wondered where she got the drive. then there was you, black ink, the main topic underlined, things to remember written repeatedly. you learned better after writing things down, you couldn’t just read a book and have the information implanted in your brain. as much as you wished it were that easy.
you were studying for an upcoming psychology test, one that you were sure would be a piece of cake given how well you did in the class itself. it was one you didn’t plan on taking, but you needed another course to get enough credits for the year.
lina was munching on some almonds, turning a page in her notebook, and picking up a blue pen. you were in the middle of writing a definition down and filling up the last of the page, your hand starting to cramp with how much pressure you were using. you flexed it once you put your pen down and squeezed an imaginary ball.
both yours and lina’s eyes flicked up to melly across the table who let out a low moan. she was pulling her headphones off and looking in the completely opposite direction of her computer.
“why is he so fine?” she asked, low enough for the two of you to hear.
you looked over your shoulder at the same time lina did and searched in the general area melly was focused on. all you saw was a guy walking through the library, sporting a backpack and a lacrosse sweatshirt, the hood pulled over his head.
“he really knows what he’s doing, huh?” lina said dreamily.
you furrowed your eyebrows as you watched him turn into a row of books and you glanced at melly as you faced the other way, planning on getting back to your work. melly was dazed as she still looked in his direction.
“who is that?” you asked after a moment of both of them still ogling.
lina turned toward you as melly closed her laptop a little to lean over it. “what did you just say?”
you looked between the two identical shocked expressions and laughed helplessly. “who is that?”
“oh, i forgot. you’re still new.” melly nodded in semi-acceptance then became serious. “that’s rafe cameron. he’s on the lacrosse team and we’re kind of obsessed with him.”
“it’s alarming,” lina said. she gave a quick glance over her shoulder then looked back at her notebook. “i love making myself sad over him not noticing me, but it’s fine. what’s even more alarming is how he’s still single.”
“i cannot express to you, y/n, how good,” melly emphasized, squeezing her eyes shut, “he looks with a little sweat.”
“you guys sound like stalkers.” you pointed out, smiling a little at their explanations.
“i’m not denying it. i said it was alarming.” lina shrugged as she looked from her textbook to her writing. “we’ve talked to him a couple of times at some parties, he’s a super nice guy but we just find him attractive. i think if i were a freshman, i’d be pathetically pining after him.”
melly hummed in agreement, her chin now propped in her palm. she wore a doe-like look, gazing between yours and lina’s heads and into the bookshelves. “don’t they have a game tomorrow? we should go.”
“it’s away.” lina said, but you had already lost interest in the topic and started reading a new chapter. you picked your pen back up, the muscles in your hand now relaxed, and the boy in the bookshelves out of your mind.
monday, 9 a.m.
you were going to be late and you hated the thought. there was no way you could miss this test when you had done nothing but study every last page for it. you even lost track of how many pages of notes you wrote for the test alone. it would be such a waste to miss it and it wasn’t worth getting a negative grade.
being late was not at all your fault. you had set your alarm early, eaten breakfast and read a few more chapters to get ahead, and packed your bag up so you’d be ready after a quick shower. turned out that all the showers on your floor were broken, the yellow “do not cross” tape like a bad omen. you started muttering to yourself as you carried along your shower caddy, going down to the next floor and finding a line to wait in. you knew it was probably your best bet instead of racing to another floor to check if there were more lines, plus you didn’t know how much time you had. you probably annoyed some people with the fidgeting, but all you could think about was the test.
it was ridiculous how long the showers took and how you had to leave your hair damp as you ran back up physical stairs. you burst through your door, threw your bathroom things on your bed, grabbed your bag and the few books you couldn’t stuff in. while leaving, the door shutting behind you, you made do with damp hair, twisting it up and out of your face. as you checked the time, you figured out that you had eight minutes exactly to get across campus and in your seat with a writing utensil ready.
even though you were late, you still held doors open for people, and you dodged others walking the opposite direction instead of the other way around. you kept checking the time as if the minutes would stop moving.
just as you were looking into your bag, your legs moving fast and assuredly, you ran right into something hard. you dropped the textbooks that you had been clutching, even with a death grip on them, and your bag slipped from your shoulder. a notebook poked out along with a pen rolling away on the walkway.
“woah,” the hard surface said.
“i’m so sorry, i was not looking.” you said quickly and bent down to get your things. of course, this would happen while you were in a rush. you supposed you were lucky it didn’t involve cars. god, that would’ve been so much worse.
“nah, it’s alright.” they said easily and bent down beside you, retrieving your things.
you scrambled for everything and shoved the notebook back into your bag. you spotted your keychain near their foot, their fingers closing around it before you could reach for it. you finally looked up as they held the key out to you, the ring hanging from their finger.
rafe cameron.
he looked different now that you could see his face better. and also, because he was so close this time. it was odd to know now that he had blue eyes and a light ghosting of stubble along his jaw and cheeks. it felt too personal being this close to someone you only knew the name of.
you felt a little silly for bumping into him, but you didn’t let it show. “thank you,” you said as you took the key from him and stood quickly to walk away. lina and melly surely wouldn’t give this up when you told them.
rafe had watched after you for a moment before turning back to his friend topper, raising his eyebrows in reference to what happened, and continuing their conversation.
you made it to class about three minutes late and sat in your seat, finally taking a breath. you settled in, putting your things at your feet, and digging around for a pen. all thoughts of bumping into rafe cameron left your mind.
8 p.m.
“you what?” melly coughed violently as she composed herself. lina was clutching her stomach, nearly dying of hysterics when the drink came out of melly’s nose a second earlier.
you held your head in your hands and inwardly groaned at having to tell the story. you were out to dinner with the two girls, munching on french fries and milkshakes. it was typical for you three to hang out on mondays since melly usually had a bad case of them each week. you had innocently slipped in that you just so happened to run into rafe cameron this morning and well, you hadn’t expected that to be melly’s reaction.
“i ran into him. i was late this morning and i wasn’t looking.” you could feel the embarrassment settle in as you recounted the minor event, at least to you.
“did he say anything?” her eyes were blown wide as she leaned across the table.
“i didn’t try to have a conversation with him.” you shrugged and picked at the plate of fries at the center of the table. melly gave you a look of mild bewilderment, the shock of it wearing off.
“missed opportunity.” lina joked, taking a long sip of her shake. “i wouldn’t know what to say either if i ran into him.”
you felt your shoulders loosen as the topic was slowly changing. melly laughed at lina’s remark, teasing her that she would’ve frozen up from bumping into anybody. you smiled and were glad that both of them didn’t take the story too seriously.
minutes later you were laughing loudly, head thrown back as melly was telling a story about her family and a public mishap with a tire. it was interesting to you to hear about what it was like growing up in a completely different environment than the one you did. you supposed that’s something you loved about college; getting to meet people from so many other states and cities.
you were smiling to yourself as you dipped a fry into your shake. just as you put it into your mouth and looked across the table at melly, her composure changed.
“oh, fuck.” she whispered and noticeably tried to look away. “don’t look.”
both you and lina turned around to look toward the front door. a dense group of bodies was coming in through the door, the atmosphere’s volume increasing with their chatter. toward the back you recognized rafe cameron. you weren’t sure at all what it was that made your heart clench in your chest.
“i said don’t look!” melly whispered louder. “oh, god. okay. act normal.” melly straightened up, trying not to be obvious with looking in their direction. you laughed and sat back in the seat. lina practically sunk into hers.
you didn’t watch as they approached, but you did look up once rafe entered your peripheral vision. he was with the guy from this morning, even if you hadn’t noticed him before. you just remembered rafe crouched in front of you while someone just as tall stood behind him, waiting. both of them were sporting lacrosse sweatshirts, along with some others in the group.
“hey, rafe.” melly said easily like she hadn’t just been freaking out over him a second ago.
you watched rafe lift his chin, smiling genuinely at her. you didn’t think anything of it when he glanced at you, the recognition so obvious as his face changed. he continued to walk to his table though, eyes steady on you for what felt like too long.
melly turned around and sank over the table, her mouth open in shock. “oh my god,” she said above the surface.
“oh my god,” lina said, turning to you in bafflement. “i feel like i’m in an alternate universe. did that just happen?”
“he just recognized me.” you brushed it off.
“no, y/n, he knew you. that was longer than five seconds.”
“why are you guys so obsessed with him anyways?” you laughed, trying to take the attention off you.
lina shrugged, seeming taken aback with the question. “i don’t really know.”
“because he’s gorgeous, that’s why.” melly intervened, dipping a fry into her shake.
you looked over melly’s shoulder, wondering what it was exactly that was so intriguing about the lacrosse player. you had had your fair share of athletes and could agree on some being drop dead gorgeous. maybe rafe cameron was just a nice guy all around and melly and lina just had pleasant interactions with him. maybe he was the type of college boy that looked out for everyone’s wellbeing and that’s what made your friends obsess over him. it could be a number of things.
thursday, 8 p.m.
you rubbed your eyes, yawning in the middle of it, and lay back on your bed. you had just closed your computer after typing up a 10-page essay. it was nine when you started it this morning. you were just glad your one class of the day was canceled and that you had time to write the paper before next week. plus, there were no classes tomorrow, and you could have a whole day of doing nothing. you were stoked, to say the least.
feeling a vibration beside you, you reached for your phone and opened a text from lina. incoming in 5, it said, followed by a rattling of knocks on your door. you rolled off the bed and shuffled over, finding her and melly with wide smiles. it was infectious as you felt your own smile appearing on your face.
“what are you guys doing here?” you asked curiously, stepping aside to let them in. the door clicked softly shut as you followed melly to your bed where she went to sit. lina leaned against the wall across from you, careful of your roommate’s things.
“we were invited to a party and we were wondering if you wanted to come with.” lina said, sharing a quick look with melly.
you glanced between them, eyes narrowing. “what’s so special about this party?”
“god, how can you even tell that?” melly asked, slightly rolling her eyes.
“you guys have known each other longer than i've known either of you, but you’re easy to read.” you laughed.
“i don’t like that.” melly said quietly to herself.
you grinned at her, noting her curls springing around her face. melly usually had her hair pulled back out of the way and it was very rare to see her with a different hairstyle. there had been some days where she had braids and you enjoyed seeing the change of pace. lina on the other hand always let her hair down. tonight though, she had straightened it and thrown it into a high ponytail. you hadn’t really gone to a lot of parties with the girls, so seeing them all done-up was always fascinating.
“seriously, what’s the deal?” you asked again, looking to lina since she was the one who had proposed the idea.
she shared another look with melly again before finally coming out with it. “it’s at rafe cameron’s apartment.”
you felt that clenching again in your chest, in that same spot from last night. you swallowed, feeling how dry your mouth was in the span of three seconds.
“well, it’s his and topper’s apartment, so not technically just his.” lina said, waving her hand in enunciation. she crossed her arms. “i have this study group with topper and he invited me and mel and anyone else really.”
“come on, it’ll be fun.” melly said, nudging your arm.
you looked at the girl beside you, ready to say no mostly in panic of seeing rafe. you had nothing to worry about or freak out over, but it was a scary thought. so many things happened at parties. so many things could happen.
“okay,” you said easily.
the prior fears dissipated quickly as lina and melly gave a small cheer and encouraged you to get ready, and to take your time. you spent the next ten minutes asking them what you should wear, going through your side of the closet. all three of you agreed on a plaid skirt you had bought a few weeks before on a spontaneous shopping trip. you only wore it once since then and had been meaning to pull it out again. you paired it with a sweater, something easy to keep you warm through the night instead of bringing a jacket along. lina and melly agreed excitedly when you changed and raised your eyebrows, searching for approval.
9 p.m.
holding on tightly to lina’s hand, you laughed hysterically to the point of tears and a clear indicator in the nether region that you had to pee, badly. a connie bailey rae cover was playing from a speaker near you, your laughter probably not as loud as you thought it to be as you calmed down. melly stopped her ridiculous reenactment and pulled an exaggerated disgusted face as she dodged someone trying to dance with her. you shook with laughter and took a long sip of your drink, tilting your head back to finish it in one gulp.
the party had been way more fun than you thought it would be, especially when you walked the four blocks to get there. lucky for you, you had been smart and worn flat boots. the apartment was a good size for the event and had plenty of space to gather, enough left over for those that wanted a break from either dancing or just to relax. some people you didn’t recognize had the large tv on, a video game on the bright screen. there was plenty of shouting coming from their general direction, a wave of arms and pointing of rigid fingers.
you had seen rafe in passing, but never made the initial eye contact as if to let each other know that you were near. stepping into the apartment and being greeted with his friend topper, you felt like you were intruding or trespassing by being in rafe’s space. you didn’t know him, or topper for that matter, and it felt odd to you to be in their physical home.
“where’s the bathroom?” you asked lina as melly went to get more snacks.
lina stood up on her toes and pointed at a closed door. “i'm pretty positive it’s over there.”
you gave her a nod and walked in the direction she pointed you in, finding a couple people waiting against the wall. you took a place there and acted as a fly on the wall for a total of five minutes since the line went fast. once inside, you took a deep breath, feeling refreshed at the open window and the cool air coming in.
you dried your hands and placed the towel back where it was on the counter and opened the door. the next person waiting rushed in rather quickly, making you stumble against the doorway. you laughed to yourself and felt the rush of sudden wind as the door slammed.
excusing yourself past a small group, you headed toward the refreshments. you were already thirsty after having emptied your bladder seconds before, but you were aware it was just the addictive alcohol buzzing through your system. it was crowded closer to the drinks, rightfully so, and it only took one person to move for you to see rafe acting as a stand-in bartender.
part of you wanted to run right back out of the kitchen and find lina and melly, but the other part of you wanted to give a swift kick to your rear. you chose the latter and walked over to where he was at the counter. he was in the middle of pouring someone else’s drink and you stood on his other side, taking in his appearance while you still could. the blue hat on his head read “obx”, turned backwards. he wore an off-white t-shirt, the graphic design on the back drawing you in. you were too busy staring at his shoulders molded with the fabric to realize he had turned around and you were now staring at his chest. you blinked up at his face, smiling lightly.
“hi.” he said, a small lilt to his voice as he recognized you once again.
“hi.”
“can i get you something?” he asked, and you felt your shoulders falter a little, thinking that was all he was going to say to you. stick to his image of drink tender and have you go on your way. but his body told you differently as he turned fully to face you.
“um, i can get it.” you said, the instant flight taking effect at the very prospect of being shot down.
rafe nodded and stepped out of the way, moving further into the corner of the counter. you smiled at him and poured your own drink, mixing up your favorite. rafe still stood there and you could feel the strong vice his eyes had on you. it made you a little self-conscious, but you relaxed with a deep breath.
“i never got your name.” rafe said just as you took a sip and turned to leave the kitchen. “you know, from the other day.”
“that’s because i was too busy bumping into you.” you let out a small laugh and stepped closer to him, out of the way if someone wanted a drink. you turned your back to the fridge and tried to find a spot to lean on as rafe looked down at you, a smile playing at his lips. “i am sorry about that again. i was in a rush for a class.”
“it’s no problem. i’m just glad you’re okay, we hit pretty hard.”
“y/n.” you said and held out a hand respectfully.
“rafe,” he slipped his hand into yours, warm and strong, and smiled widely.
“i think i’ve heard your name only a million times in the past week.” you admitted, knowing that lina and melly would kill for brownie points. “my friends are a bit obsessed with you and fully willing to educate the newbie.”
“obsessed, huh? lina and mel, right?”
you nodded and took another sip. rafe reached on the counter and grabbed a handful of pretzels. he held some out to you. “they’re nice girls,” rafe said easily. “i’ve hung out with them a couple times, but i didn’t know they were obsessed.” he laughed to himself.
you munched on a pretzel and froze at an idea. “you’re not going to tell them i told you, are you?”
“not unless you want me to.”
you stared at him for a bit longer than you planned, then let out a breath and took another pretzel from his hand. it was odd to be sharing food with him when just the other day you felt like your heart was tearing in your chest. at the moment, you could only feel a dull ache.
“so, how do you like it?” rafe asked.
“like what?”
“campus, the college.”
you nodded and swallowed some of your drink to wash the pretzels down. “things have been really great. i enjoy it here. it’s an immense difference than my first college back home, so i’m happy.”
rafe smiled. “and the party?”
you followed his nod to the people around you, glancing to your original spot where you left lina. you didn’t see her anywhere until some people moved and you found her and melly sat on the couch. they were playing the video game with a whole mess of guys. you grinned.
“the party is great.” you commended, looking back at him. he had finished the rest of the pretzels in his hand.
“good.” he nodded. “i always get nervous when top and i invite people over. we’ve done it a bunch of times, but there’s always the possibility of something going wrong.”
“well, you’re doing great. both of you. hopefully, nothing horrible happens.”
11 p.m.
you would be lying if you said that your conversation with rafe from hours ago wasn’t still running through your head. it was difficult not to think about it when you kept seeing him more often throughout the party. most of the time you’d catch his eye, or vice versa, and instantly smile. you’d then recall the sound of his laugh and would even hear it from feet away. the clenching in your chest was now accompanied by a swirling in your stomach.
you were pacing yourself with your drinks, but by now you were on your fifth of the night. you were completely aware of everything around you and you were enjoying the ongoing buzz. lina and melly were a bit more inebriated than you were, which only added to the fun.
the two girls in front of you were swaying to a song together, not even close to being slow tempo. it was very upbeat, the bass pumping through the walls. the front door to the apartment was now open since it had begun to get warmer with the more and more people that were joining. a few windows were thrown open as well.
“you remember how in freshman year you fell down that flight of stairs and twisted your ankle and practically bashed your head in and then your mom yelled at you and then your sister called to tell you she was pregnant and then your dad! oh my god, and then your dad was like ‘hey i’m thinking of leaving your mom so uh, yeah’ and then your mom was so pissed but then she was fine because she found a total hunk of a man to replace your dad like that,” melly snapped her fingers as your body started to shake with laughter. lina was laughing too, not at all bothered with a quick recap of her, very shitty, first year.
“yes, thank you for reminding me mel. i love when we have tantalizing conversation like this.” lina leaned her head against the others’.
mel giggled, a few hiccups escaping. “i think i need to pee.”
“god, you’re like a peeing machine.” lina sighed and tightened her arm around melly.
“that’s what drinking will do to you.”
lina rolled her eyes and looked at you as she brought melly to the bathroom. you asked quickly if she needed help, but she shook her head and promised they’d be back soon. you watched them go then turned back to the party, turning too fast and not feeling the presence behind you in the moment. a cool liquid pooled over and down your chest, soaking the fabric of your sweater. you gasped at the contact, your mouth dropping open and looking down at the dark stain.
“i— “ you looked up to tell the person it was fine before an apology came out, finding that off-white t-shirt on a very familiar blue-eyed person. “we have to stop meeting like this.”
rafe looked horrified at having spilled his drink all over your sweater, his eyes wide as they stared at your chest.
“that’s the most cliché thing to say.” you said, laughing lightly to ease the tension so obvious in his features.
he let out a laugh too. “you can borrow something of mine. come on,” he held out his hand and you took it willingly, realizing some people were staring at the accident way too curiously. you let rafe lead you up the stairs, the complete darkness on the landing causing you to focus solely on his hand in yours.
rafe opened a door and flipped a light on, your eyes adjusting to the brightness. he led you further in and closed the door behind you before rushing to his dresser, a whole display of cologne bottles on top. as he rummaged through the drawers, you stood just in front of the door, a little timid to step further in. you were holding your sweater away from your chest, already feeling the stickiness of liquid on your skin.
“how’s this one?” he asked, holding out a simple white one.
“you don’t have to give me a shirt.”
“it’s the least i can do. the bathroom is right there.” he handed the shirt to you and nodded just behind your shoulder. you thanked him and went in, closing the door with a click. you pulled the sweater off and dampened a washcloth, wiping the dried drink from your skin. pulling the shirt on, you relished in how soft it was and styled the piece of fabric so it looked better with your skirt.
rafe was sitting on a couch next to his bed, more like a futon, his hands in his pockets and hat off his head. he looked up as you came out, straightening his posture and looking you up and down.
“i’m sorry.” he smiled guiltily.
you smiled and walked over, moving around the small circular coffee table and sitting next to him. “guess it was payback for the other day,” you teased as you folded your sweater and set it next to you.
rafe rolled his eyes with a knowing smile. you glanced at him as you leaned back, feeling the softness and rigidness of the futon. “you look good in my shirt.”
“i feel better in a less damp one.” you said, easing the fluttering in your stomach. your chest clenched again as you crossed your legs.
glancing around rafe’s room, you admired the movie posters on the walls and the multiple lacrosse paraphernalia. one of his jerseys lay crumpled at the end of his bed, the comforter pulled over the pillows to look made. it was better than you did with your bed, you were pretty sure yours was unmade and messy.
it was a decent sized room, plus the bathroom was nice to have. you’d kill for your own bathroom again. it would be nice not to wait in a line. you told yourself that you just had to figure out an earlier schedule so you could beat the crowd.
after a once-over of rafe’s room, you looked over at him to find him already looking at you. he was fully analyzing your face, you could see his eyes flickering to different parts.
you swallowed and licked your lips. “what?”
“nothing.” he said quickly and sighed, laying his head back on the couch.
you squinted at him, now tracing over his features. he looked nervous from what you could tell, his hands moving in his pockets. you stared at his chest moving up and down slowly, the intake of breath coming as it grew bigger. his adam’s apple protruded, bobbing slightly as he swallowed. your chest clenched once again as you looked at his face, watching him look up at the ceiling. he really was handsome. you shifted in your seat, switching your leg over the other.
“that look wasn’t nothing.” you commented, breathing in.
“what look?” he turned his head toward you, eyebrows slightly pushing together. you watched every change in his face, from his eyebrows to his eyes blinking then to his tongue peeking out to lick his lips.
“the look of ‘i want to eat you up’.”
he laughed, the couch shaking with him. “what does that entail?”
“major gazing and bedroom eyes.”
“bedroom eyes, huh?” he hummed and lifted his head. his lips tugged at a smirk.
“am i imagining things?” you asked seriously, slightly doubting if you made the right call. maybe he wasn’t thinking what you thought he had been. maybe you were imagining things.
rafe didn’t answer, instead looking down at the floor. the smirk alone told you that you had been right. his hands flexed in his pockets, hard for you to miss. a few silent minutes passed, the both of you listening to the party still going on downstairs.
“if you want to kiss me, all you have to do is ask.” you said quietly. after a moment you figured he hadn’t heard you, that he had lost himself in staring at the carpet.
“can i?”
“yes,” you nodded.
rafe sat up and met your eyes, moving closer until his thigh was touching yours. you shifted your upper half closer to him, feeling a wave of shivers run through you the second his hand touched your cheek. you instinctively pressed your legs tighter together as your heartbeat picked up and rafe lowered over you, licking his lips once more. they were soft and firm, just as they needed to be. he tilted your chin up, his thumb brushing just beside your mouth as you kissed.
seconds later, you brought your own hands to his face. you were eager to touch him, to feel the solidness of him against you. it was mostly a reassurance that this was in fact happening and that you weren’t dreaming. you pushed a hand into his hair just behind his ear and mirrored the last few pecks he was leaving you before he fully pulled away. you felt a pinch of disappointment, the small taste for him now growing bigger. you had to stop your hands from pulling him back.
he pulled away only a little and you opened your eyes to see him still so close and looking over your face. your breaths mingled together.
“what?” you huffed, letting your head fall back for a second in slight irritation. you just wanted to kiss him again. you let your hand slide down from his hair, resting near his shoulder. you wanted to squeeze the muscle under your hand.
“nothing.” he said again, eyes flickering down to your lips once more. he smiled, holding himself up on the back of the couch. his thumb brushed the same spot on your cheek. “don’t tell anyone, but i’ve been imagining this since you showed up tonight.”
you returned your hand to his hair, slightly scratching with a smile. “i knew you spilled your drink on purpose.”
rafe grinned widely and moved back into you. this kiss was deeper, your lips opening for him when you felt his tongue. his hand left your cheek and appeared on your hip, ever so slightly pushing your shirt up so he could touch your skin at your waist. you smiled against him as you felt his hand slowly creep up the shirt. you were reminded again that it was his and you pulled him closer by the back of the neck, hearing a soft moan leave his lips. your thighs squeezed, your excitement starting to rise.
“you just gave it to me and now you want to take it off?” you teased as rafe’s hand covered one of your breasts, the cool air of the room reaching your skin. rafe smiled and kissed you again.
his hand disappeared, apparently changing his mind, and reappeared on your thigh. you breathed in sharply at the warmth coming from his palm, resting just above your knee. your brain started to spaz for a moment and you imagined a bunch of smaller yous, running in circles like their heads were cut off.
rafe’s hand stayed steady as you uncrossed your legs, a silent invitation. he moved to kiss the corner of your mouth. “is this okay?”
the fact that he was pulling away multiple times to check in on you had to be evidence enough of why lina and melly liked him so much. you hadn’t met many guys that were so in tune with consent or caring about what you wanted. it turned you on seeing it coming from him.
“yes.” you nodded as you touched his forearm, not wanting to seem too eager.
you anticipated his hand moving and when it did, you held back the moan. you were much too eager for teasing and he was showing no signs of not giving you want you wanted. as he got closer to you, you placed your hand over his. he pulled you back for a kiss and you decided to focus on that for a moment to lessen your nerves.
his touch was soft once he met your underwear. his fingers pressed over you and you shivered from how wet you had become because of him. he hummed into your mouth, only adding to the pooling between your legs. his hand reached back and pushed your skirt further up so he could get to you more easily.
you let out a satisfied sigh against his lips as he ran a finger through your folds, collecting your wetness. your underwear had been pushed to the side, out of the way, finally feeling his touch.
“are you this wet for me?” he asked. you nodded against his forehead and pulled him back, letting out a moan as he brushed over your clit. it was only for a second, but you were about ready to burst.
you opened your legs wider for rafe, his fingers moving over you and exploring the new area. you gripped his hand to silently ask him for more along with an impatient moan. you wanted his fingers so badly in places you weren’t ready to admit yet. he wanted the opposite.
“talk to me.” he said, nudging the side of your face with his nose, planting a kiss to your jaw. you opened your eyes that had fallen shut, your breath getting heavier. your chest felt like it was going to cave in.
“please,” you said, adjusting your hips. “please, touch me.”
“i am.” he pulled away, a menacing smirk on his face just to gauge your reaction.
you huffed out and pulled his hand closer. “you know what i mean, rafe.”
“i like when you say my name.” he pressed a kiss to your lips sweetly.
“i might like when you touch me, so get on with it already.”
rafe laughed huskily, his breath blowing over your face. “you want my fingers?”
you wanted to roll your eyes at how badly he wanted you to beg, but you wanted his fingers more. “yes, please. i want your fingers. give me something.”
you let go of his hand as he finally pushed a finger into you. you adjusted around him for a moment and felt the need to close your legs to keep him there. he pulled your lips back to his, his tongue quick to lick into you. you held his face again as his finger started to move inside of you.
“you want another, pretty girl?” he asked after a few moments passed. you nodded again, breathing hoarsely, too intoxicated in him to speak. a second finger pushed into you then, stretching you ever so slightly. you sighed, letting your head fall back to the couch.
“you’re so wet.” he said as he moved his fingers, delighting in the sounds he was making with you in the palm of his hand. “you’re taking my fingers so well, y/n. do they feel good?”
you moaned as he said your name for the first time. it was something you didn’t think you’d like so much, but with the current situation, it was wonderful.
rafe’s lips appeared on your neck. you held the back of his head as he pressed a few kisses then closed his lips over a spot closer to your collarbone. if your breath had been short then, it was even shorter now as he worked to leave a mark on you. with all the attention you were getting, it only brought you closer to your release, and you started to move your hips. he freed your skin, startled at your movements, then amazed as he watched you chase his fingers. the spot he left throbbed now, all your blood rushing to two places at once.
“are you going to come?” he asked as you heard the start of song you had been replaying for the past few weeks. it was muffled and you could barely hear the words, but you knew it by heart.
“yes, fuck.” you looked up at him, taking in the sight. he was breathing over you, his eyes never straying too far from yours as your mouth opened in pleasure. “rafe, make me come.”
you squeezed your eyes shut as he kissed you hard, breathing deeply into your mouth. he reached his thumb to your clit and began to draw circles at a normal pace with his fingers. your stomach started to twist, the familiar feeling forming fast as he picked up the pace. he could tell you were close by the sheer dig of your fingertips on the back of his neck. it only edged him on more to bring you to your climax.
“come on my fingers.” he said, eyes half closed as he looked at you, lips brushing over yours as he spoke. you whimpered and felt your hips twitch before stilling completely, trapping rafe’s hand between your legs, as you came undone. his thumb continued to move to help you through it. your jaw went slack, eyes rolling under your eyelids, as you moaned loudly. you felt an overwhelming sense of content, the adrenaline rush coming and going quickly.
your blood pumped in your ears and it took you a few moments to register rafe giving you subtle kisses all over the underside of your jaw. you breathed in shakily and let your head fall back on the couch, your knees separating. rafe took his hand away and you winced as he did. you already missed the contact.
the moment was completely ruined as his name was called up the stairs. rafe’s lips disappeared from you as he looked toward the door. you didn’t know what came over you as you pulled your skirt down over your thighs, the footsteps heavy outside his door before a couple of his friends burst in.
“guys, come on. get the fuck out!” he shouted in annoyance, sitting up completely, his leg still touching yours.
“woah, sorry.” they said as they took in your presence. you shifted and knew that they could probably tell what you and rafe had been doing. they evidently didn’t care as they went into a whole spiel of something that had taken place downstairs. rafe tried to stop them and their alcohol-induced exuberance.
he looked at you over his shoulder, touching you lightly on the knee. “i'm sorry.” he said, his friends not hearing as they talked to one another. “i'll see you downstairs?”
part of you felt completely stupid when he said it, like everything that had happened moments ago was just an imagination. you felt your shoulders slump, but you nodded and got up anyways. the door was quick to close behind you and you were left in the dark landing, leaning against the wall to catch your breath. you smoothed your hair, took a deep breath, and fixed your underwear and skirt again.
your eyes adjusted gradually as you went down the stairs back into the swing of things. you swallowed, your mouth still dry post-climax. you went into the kitchen and filled up a cup with water, downing it slowly and stepping out of the way of some people. you couldn’t help but feel drained as you watched the people around you, laughing, dancing, and drinking. you had just spent the last 30 minutes in rafe cameron’s room and now you didn’t know what to do with yourself.
“y/n!” you looked up at melly coming toward you, her makeup slightly smudged, but that didn’t change how great she looked. “there you are!”
you gave her an assured smile and finished the water in your cup. “hey.” you tried not to let anything show.
“lina and i are ready to go if you want to come with. i think we’re going to get some food somewhere in town. i was thinking curly fries or a veggie burger. lina is dying for— wait, where did you go? we looked everywhere.” her expression suddenly changed to one of concern as she stepped closer to you.
“i— uh, well clearly not everywhere.” you said shamelessly, feeling your neck grow warm.
melly opened her mouth to say something then stopped. “oh my god, why are you so flushed? what happened to your sweater?” she looked at the shirt, her eyes catching on something near your collarbone. her eyes went wide as you tried to hide the mark. “oh my god!”
monday, 4 p.m.
“i was thinking that it could go more like this,” your friend said as she pressed a few buttons on her laptop. a new beat started from the computer, the screen following along with the track. you bobbed your head along with the beat.
the campus coffeeshop was somewhere you liked to go, mostly to meet your friends, but you also enjoyed the coffee. sometimes before class you’d make it just in time to get an extra scone before they were all gone. it was a cozy place too, filled with older antiques and an endless display of guitars on every wall. sometimes they’d have an open mic for students, letting anyone with any sort of musical or comical talent perform. most of the acts were later in the week though so no one had to worry about coursework.
after your classes today, you had met up with a friend you hadn’t seen in a while. she was eager to show you what she had been working on for her musical composition classes and you had expressed that you were willing to listen.
the past weekend had been spent mulling over a certain party and a certain someone you couldn’t seem to forget. not that you tried to, to be fair. you’d hadn’t seen him since, which was nothing new given the amount of times you had encountered the boy since that day on campus or seen him for the first time in the library. you didn’t find things weird, but things were left upspoken and it had been bothering you. you knew that melly or lina could’ve easily gotten his number for you, had you asked, but you couldn’t bring yourself to, nor did you know what you would say. all you could do was hope that he was doing well and maybe, perhaps, thinking of you too.
it was inevitable to escape having to talk about what happened in rafe’s room with melly and lina. you weren’t willing to share all of the details right down to what he smelled like, but you didn’t deny that nothing occurred. they seemed satisfied when you recounted having to change your sweater and rafe being kind enough to offer you one of his shirts.
speaking of the shirt, you had gone to your dorm that night and taken it off, seeing that “cameron” was written on the back, along with a large number. no doubt it was for lacrosse. the prospect of it made you shiver before folding it up to leave on your desk. you hadn’t touched it since.
“christ, i've got a meeting with my advisor soon.” your friend said, quickly exiting the program on her screen and closing her computer. “thank you again so much for listening. i can’t express how relieving it is to have someone do this.”
you waved her off with a sweet smile and packed up your own things. “i'm always around if you need a first-time listener.”
both of you stood and pushed the metal chairs in. you followed her to the exit, listening to her as she explained the reasoning for her upcoming meeting. both doors opened, the one from her pushing and the other from rafe coming in. you looked up as he met your eyes, and you couldn’t deny how good it was to see him.
“hey,” he smiled at you as all three of you paused.
before you could say anything, the words sticking to your tongue, you looked back to your friend. she was looking between the both of you, unsure of what was going on. you swallowed and acknowledged her. “i’ll see you later?”
a small smile came onto her face as she looked at rafe then back to you and nodded. the door closed softly behind her. you looked back at rafe as you felt his hand ghosting over your forearm.
“hi,” you said finally.
“it’s good to see you. come up with me?” he gestured to the register and you nodded, letting him take your hand. you didn’t think too much of it as you stood alongside him as he ordered. when the cashier asked if there would be anything else, rafe looked at you expectantly. you blanked for a second, remembering that you didn’t get a drink earlier when you first arrived. you had immediately gone for a sandwich, satisfied that that would be your dinner.
rafe pulled out his wallet and paid for the two drinks. he then led you toward the pick-up counter and faced you with a soft smile. “how have you been?”
“okay,” you breathed in deeply. you weren’t exactly sure how to answer. were you supposed to tell him how freaked out you had been? no, you decided, best not to. “the weekend was busy.”
“mine too. i've got practice tonight so i thought i’d stop by for some energy. i’m glad i ran into you.”
you refrained from asking him if he was serious. you could see on his face that he was with the way he looked at you. “rafe—”
before you could say much of anything else, rafe’s hands appeared on your cheeks and his lips pressed to yours. you kissed him back just as gently even though you wanted to do more now that you felt him again. he pulled away as his order was called, turning to thank the barista as he took the two cups.
“come to my place to study? after practice, i mean.” he said as he held your cup out to you. you looked at it then back up at his questioning eyes, a sliver of hope in them. you pushed down the question at the tip of your tongue and accepted the coffee.
“we’re just studying?”
rafe beamed and nodded. “i have a huge test tomorrow that i can’t fail, so yes.”
7 p.m.
before parting ways with rafe earlier he had finally taken your phone and put his number in it, but not before taking an odd photo of himself. it made you laugh watching it happen though. he promised that he would be done with practice around now and you left your dorm a little earlier than you planned to. it was out of pure thrill really.
knocking on the front door, you waited patiently for it to be answered. you shifted the books in your arms as you heard soft footsteps behind the door. rafe opened it, standing in loose-fitting clothes with damp hair. he smiled instantly and welcomed you in.
it was a drastic difference compared to the party. the house was eerily quiet, so quiet you could hear a pin drop. rafe turned to you from the door.
“how many books did you bring?” he asked seriously, glancing at them against your chest.
“just two,” you said defensively only until you saw the grin. you rolled your eyes and turned away from him to kick your shoes off.
he was chuckling to himself as he went into the kitchen and pulled out snacks to have. “do you want anything to drink?”
“water would be great.”
“smart choice. less sticky.” he said, his back to you, but you could hear the satisfied tone of his voice at his remark.
once he gathered drinks and a plate of snacks, he led you upstairs. it was brighter this time with his door already open and lights already on. you glanced at the other closed one down the short hall, finding the sliver underneath completely dark. maybe topper wasn’t home.
“how was practice?” you asked, setting your things down. he placed the plate on the coffee table and took a seat on the floor. you brushed your hair away from your face and sat down beside him.
“good. just ran some drills, normal practice stuff.” he shrugged, munching on a chip.
“is topper not home?” you set your books on the table and opened them up to where you had marked. rafe moved to grab his things from his bag sitting on the couch. he copied your actions and pulled out a pencil and a notebook.
“no, he went out with some of the guys for food.” he said easily, opening to a blank page. you watched curiously as he wrote down the topic he was studying for.
both of you fell into a silence as you started to read from your books. you were worried about it being a strange silence, knowing what happened the last time you were in this room. it was fairly difficult to push it out of your mind and to focus when rafe was right next to you, so close, along with the thoughts and memory of his touch. you pushed everything out of your head and concentrated back on the page you were reading from.
it wasn’t long when rafe’s hand appeared on your bent leg. they were crossed under you and he had placed his hand like it belonged over the side of your knee. you looked at him in your peripheral but didn’t see him look up once to acknowledge that he had in fact done that. instead you let it happen, ignoring the way it warmed up your skin. you swallowed in anticipation of him interrupting your studying session to turn it into a quick make out session, but the longer the minutes passed the longer his hand stayed where it was. after a while, you forgot about it.
if you had taken one look at rafe, with no prior knowledge of him or of the way his hands felt on you, you would have never guessed that he becomes so engrossed in studying. for the whole two hours that you both spent together with your noses in textbooks, he hadn’t once started a conversation. he kept at reading and writing, jotting things down in his notebook, while you held your head above your own book and soaked up every last word. it was comforting knowing that. the plate had even emptied, mostly due to rafe’s insatiable appetite after practice. you weren’t that hungry from your sandwich earlier.
“okay, that’s it.” rafe said abruptly, causing you to look up as his hand left your knee. “my eyes are going to bleed if i read anymore.”
you laughed lightly and looked back at your book. “are you sure you studied enough?”
“i wrote a whole ten pages worth of notes.” he flipped through them, the pages brushing together.
you hummed, still engrossed in your text. rafe shuffled next to you, dropping his notebook over the open pages along with his pencil. he let out a long sigh which turned into a yawn.
“are you done?” he asked innocently, his head appearing on your shoulder.
you glanced at him and shrugged him off with a smile. “maybe.”
“come on,” he groaned and reached for your textbook. you automatically smacked his hand away. he laughed and quickly flipped it closed and took ahold of your chin to face him.
“that was a dick move.” you said, punching him softly on the arm.
“pay attention to me.” he whined, letting go of your chin only to touch your cheek.
you eyed him as he came closer, finally kissing you when you didn’t punch him again or push him away. you kissed him back as best you could with the speculation seeping into your brain then. rafe seemed to be able to tell.
“what is it?” he asked when he pulled away, running his thumb lightly along your cheekbone. it was reassuring almost.
you looked at him, trying to think of the best way to phrase it. you also thought about how badly it could go given the answer you were dreading. “i'm just— it’s nothing.” you shook your head quickly and leaned in to distract him with another kiss.
he reciprocated for only a moment. “what is it? you can tell me.”
“i guess i'm just wondering what we’re doing.” you rolled your shoulder as if you had a knot, pulling away from rafe in case he didn’t want to touch you. his hand fell from your face and he leaned his side against the couch.
“what do you want to do?”
you gave him a serious glare. “don’t make this a game, rafe. i'm just…wondering what your intentions are.”
rafe adjusted his posture and sat up straighter, all his attention on you. his eyebrows creased and you bit the inside of your lip self-consciously, knowing this wasn’t going to go how you wanted it.
“well, i'm enjoying spending time with you.”
“studying?” you asked with a monotone.
rafe glanced away from you as if he were wondering if he said the wrong thing. “yeah. is that so hard to believe?”
you wanted to huff again, but you held the breath in. your shoulders started to tense as you became frustrated. not because of him, mostly because of yourself for not being able to communicate. you felt stupid for asking it, but you did. “do you like kissing me?”
“of course i do.”
“is that all you want to do?” you finally asked, quickly looking away from him. you reached toward your textbook, fiddling with the pages.
“no,” rafe said. “i want to get to know you.”
it was hard for you not to roll your eyes. rafe noticed and a second later his hand touched your shoulder, gently shaking it.
“i'm serious. hey, look at me.” he pleaded, and you did. “i want to get to know you, but only if you’ll let me. i know the other night was weird and i don’t know— spontaneous, but i enjoyed it and i enjoy being around you. you’re not the only one who’s been thinking about it.”
“i’ve probably been thinking about it more than you.” you chided in a quiet voice, trying to tease him. you were pleased by the answer he gave you and you felt a little silly for being so stubborn at first.
rafe smiled slightly, eyes soft. “let’s just keep doing what we’re doing and see where it goes, okay?”
you took a deep breath in, pushing your book away and nodding. “okay.”
rafe’s hand rubbed your shoulder comfortingly before he pulled you in for an awkwardly placed hug. the side of your body fell into his chest, but he hugged you, nonetheless, pressing a quick kiss to the crown of your head. you turned into him and smiled widely, your cheeks strained to hold it, and hugged him around the shoulders.
all the time spent worrying about whether he reciprocated your feelings or thoughts were so obviously wasted as you spent the rest of the night together. you took it slow, never straying from innocent kisses as you curled up together to watch a movie. you couldn’t help grinning multiple times throughout the night, knowing that things wouldn’t be difficult like you thought. it was easy when you expressed yourself and talked things over, even mentioning small things made a difference. maybe this would turn out to be another smart decision. you had a feeling there were plenty of possibilities with rafe cameron, but only time would tell.
#rafe cameron#rafe cameron x reader#college!rafe cameron x reader#college!rafe cameron#college!rafe#rafe cameron au#outer banks#rafe cameron obx#rafe cameron oneshot#rafe cameron angst#rafe cameron smut#college au#writing dirty talk kinda makes me cringe because im so bad at it but i think i did okay ???#rafe cameron x fem!reader
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Summary: You and Seonghwa unfortunately must part ways, but Seonghwa is determined to make sure you don't forget them!
Bsf!Seonghwa x Bsf!gn!reader
Angst,some fluff if you stare long enough!
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A/n: hi! I hope you guys like this story! There isn't really anything bad that will happen, mainly just kinda sad I suppose? Please forgive me I'm not the best at this-
Mentions of other members, non-idol au!
W/c:
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To say you were upset was an understatement.
Your parents had decided, without your consent, that you would be moving to America.
They wouldn't even give you a reason.
You pulled your phone out, tired eyes catching on the photo you have as your lock screen.
There, surrounded in silly stickers and doodles that you and the boys had done yourself, stood a group of nine.
You stood in the middle, a big, cheesy smile on your lips as you held up two peace signs, one close to your eye, the other held behind the pink head of your best friend.
You unlocked your phone, seeing your home screen now, tears gathering in your eyes.
It was a picture of you ans your best friend.
Park Seonghwa.
You wiped your cheeks clean before going into your contacts and clicking on the boys name, which you had marked as 'momma Hwa'.
His gruff, tired voice finally came over the speaker, making the tears well in your eyes once more.
"Hello?"
"Hey beautiful.." You mumbled softly in turn, always one to remind the male of just how beautiful he was.
"What's got you calling so early this morning (y/n)? Did you have a nightmare?" He always cared so much.
"No no, I was...just wondering if you would like to hang out with me today? Like, all day, just us and the boys if you want.." You picked at a loose string on your pajama pants as you spoke, voice low, so as to not hurt your still tired friends ears.
"Sure, but why? If you don't mind me asking." His voice was quiet and caring, he knew something was wrong, he always did.
"Yeah," You sighed, leaning against the headboard of your bed. "I just...I have something to tell you is all, it's really important and time is..not on my side."
Before he could say anything about your vague answer, you told him to meet you at the park, at your spot under the cherry tree, at three o'clock.
You hit the red button on the screen and ran your fingers through your messy hair, letting out a heavy sigh and looking around at all of the boxes piled high in your room, your room filled with so many memories, good and bad.
---♡---
When the time finally came to meet Seonghwa and the boys, you could feel your heart drop.
You didn't wanna leave them, they were your family.
You messed around with some of the petals that lay scattered on the ground, the springs cool wind swaying your hair and plucking the petals from your fingers as it sang past your ears.
The park was filled with couples and families, all mingling around to admire the beautiful Sakura trees that surrounded the park.
You smiled.
It was so peaceful here, why would your parents ever want to go to America?
"Hey! I'm sorry I'm late! None of the other guys were able to make it, so its just me and you!" You turned to see the male approaching, hair the same shade of soft pink as the petals all around you.
You didn't smile back at him.
Seonghwa's face fell.
"(Y/n)? What's wrong? Why are you so down today?" He asked softly, taking your cheek into his warm palm, the warmth of his body and his gaze helping you relax some, but the tears started welling up as you tried to keep the small pieces of yourself together.
"Hwa..." You whispered out, meeting his worried eyes as the tears spilled over your waterline, kissing your cheeks and leaving a burning trail in their wake. "My parents...they're moving us.." You sniffled, nudging your face gently further into his comforting embrace. "I'm gonna be shipped off to America, mom and dad won't give me a reason, they just said we have to do it..."
It was his turn to tear up.
Seonghwa quickly pulled you into a tight embrace, knowing there was absolutely nothing he could do to keep you here.
But he would be damned if he was gonna let your last few days be sad and lonely.
"C'mon." He demanded, taking your hand and tugging you from the park and down the sidewalk to the cafe that Wooyoung and Mingi worked at.
"I'm gonna make this the best day you've ever had, the other boys can make it up to you with a get together or something later on." Seonghwa turned and gave you a big smile, squeezing your hand reassuringly. "Today, today is our day. And I plan to make it one you'll never forget!"
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You looked up at the stars, Seonghwa's hand still in yours since when he had grabbed it earlier in the day.
The day was full of fun and laughter and remembrance of times when you were both younger.
Seonghwa took you to all of your favorite places and ended the day off right back at your spot underneath the cherry tree, never letting go of your hand.
He wouldn't admit it, but he was scared that if he let go, you would dissappear faster than you already were.
He didn't want to lose his bestfriend, but he knew he didn't have any say in the matter.
If he did, you wouldn't be being stolen right from between his fingers.
You lightly squeezed his hand to gain his attention.
"Yeah (y/n)?" He muttered softly, looking deeply into your eyes.
Seonghwa always thought he could see galaxies in your eyes, or perhaps gems.
It was beautiful to him.
His bestfriend was so, very beautiful to him.
You gave him a big smile, rubbing your thumb over his knuckles as you started to play with his fingers.
You always did this when you were shy or nervous.
"Thank you for today Hwa, I really appreciate it." You smiled, tilting your head slightly to the side as your eyes squished up from your cheeks.
He frowned slightly, gripping your hand and turning his entire body towards you.
"(Y/n)?" He spoke, his voice shaky as tears welled in his eyes. "You won't forget us, me, will you?"
Seonghwa swallowed thickly, awaiting your response almost impatiently.
You smiled, bringing his hand to your face so that it could cup your cold cheek again.
"Hwa? Do you remember what I told you, back in middle school when you thought your parents were gonna move to Ilsan?" He nodded slowly, his voice no higher than a whisper, despite not a soul lingering in the park around them.
"Should the day ever come where we are not together, you will continue to shine like gold in my memories.." He recited to you softly.
You nodded, a small, sad, smile still on your face. "Thats right, and I plan to stick to that. I could never forget you beautiful, and no matter what, time difference or not, I'll be calling you every chance that I can get."
You squeezed his hand again as his tears slipped down his soft cheeks.
You wiped them away with your thumb.
"Promise me? Promise me that you'll keep in contact? That you'll try and come to visit as often as possible too?" He mumbled weakly, pulling you so close to his body that you could feel his heart beating against yours.
You nodded, tears of your own once again falling as you gripped onto the back of his soft, deep purple sweater. "I promise Park Seonghwa, on my life."
The older male pulled away slightly, looking down at the person who he loved the most in the world, more than his family, more than his friends.
But he realized just how much he loved you too late..
#fanfic#fiction#my writing#park seonghwa#seonghwa#ateez#ateez x reader#ateez seonghwa#kpop angst#kpop#kpop fanfic#best friend#soft angst#i hope yall like it#Spotify
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Hey, youre the only author I follow on this side and I have a big question... For 5 years by now I try writing a book myself. I have everything! Toughed-out characters, a fully developed plot, sideplots, a map of the world, etc. But... I just cant get it on paper. I draw a lot. Some scenes or just the characters to have refs on hand, colors, clothes and stuff but I just cant put down ONE Chapter in words! Maybe its because I'm a perfectionist and struggle too view my work with the eyes of my friends (who all say my writing is really good) I dont know, I'm never happy with my writings and dont wanna put out stuff I dont like. Do you have maybe some tips? I really wanna publish my story! It makes me sad that it takes soooo much time...
“Perfect is the enemy of done.” ― Catherine Carrigan
I wish I had some easy advice for this dilemma, but the truth is that it’s a toughie. It kind of reminds me of when I used to put off doing essays in high school. I’d make my outlines and think about it in my head. I’d plan. I’d wait for the right moment. Then the due date would pass.
If I got a shitty essay in by the due date I was usually good, it was fine, even half-baked essays usually got me B’s (this isn’t a brag on myself, this is just because the American school system lacks rigor). However, if I missed the due date then I was pretty much screwed. The clock was ticking and the task just got bigger and bigger in my head. It was due! I could do it! Nothing was stopping me! I just needed to actually do it.
But I couldn’t. It was too big in my head. It loomed too large. After the due date passed it had to be perfect or else it had to be nothing. And I would just, never turn it in. By college I stopped doing this, but by then I was studying things that I loved and looked forward to reading about and taking tests on.
There are a couple approaches to your dilemma I can imagine:
1. Go do another project: yep, let it go. Set it aside. Forget about it for a while so it becomes less scary. Time and space can do wonders for the creative process.
In the meantime, I recommend honing your craft. Write silly stories, write stories without plot or structure, write fanfiction and terrible prose, write something for the sake of writing. Honestly, there’s a lot of tried and true wisdom around the artistic statement: start small, get good. Painters do all sorts of tiny doodles before they attempt a masterpiece. Begin with doodles. Learn to build a scene before you build an entire house with it, my friend.
However, if that doesn’t help, then here’s option two:
2. Do some emotional exercises: Walking away from projects works, but not always. It’s something I’ve done in the past and I’ve talked to other people where it’s worked really well for them. Some distance from any projects is good.
However, I see a lot of online advise that’s like “if you don’t like it then walk away!” And that stuff frustrates me because I’m like “I don’t want to walk away! I want to fight for this!” Plus, whenever I have just “walked away” I’ve literally never gone back to any those projects. I don’t regret writing them, but I think we as artists need to emphasize the importance of finishing as well. If you’re serious about this then some parts of it are gonna suck so bad. It’s gonna hurt. It’s gonna be hard. You’re gonna feel shitty because the story is not how you imagined it. You’re going to doubt yourself. Do it anyway. Do it anyway.
“Everything you want is on the other side of fear” —George Adair
I have a mood swing disorder so I do a lot of emotional exercises that are primed to help me distance myself from my emotions. “But you’re supposed to feel your feelings!” You say, and that’s true. Feeling your feelings is step one-- you have to let in, life is suffering, sit with it, look at it, feel it. However, the next step is taking action. You do the thing anyway.
You are not your emotions.
You have control of how you react to your self-doubt and fear.
Acknowledge them, feel them, and then let them pass like clouds above your head. Then act. It’s okay to be a little hard on yourself here-- like a kind mother. She loves you unconditionally but she also has you do the dishes and put your toys away. She has you do the necessary and hard things, because she loves you.
By the time I was able to write essays in college and actually turn them in I had been to a lot of therapy and then I just . . . started writing. First I wrote for fun, like a madman possessed by a spirit, and now I write for the challenge of it (but at a much slower pace). Writing still often scares me or frustrates me, but that’s okay. It’s normal. They are just passing clouds-- stormy or otherwise. The clouds can’t touch you, not really, so I do it anyway.
Choose whatever path sounds best for you! Writing is a very personal process. It’s hard, but also an incredibly rewarding process. Good luck!
#writing#asks#writeblr#take this with a grain of salt because I am not quiet a professional#but I did write 3k today so that was pretty good#and I wrote 2k the day before#and 1k on monday#and so on#Anonymous#long post#oops this got so long#writing tips
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I know you don't usually write PRU stuff, but if you ever feel inclined, here's a ficlet idea! so: Newt is trying to fight off the Precursors by constantly reminding himself that He Is Human. but whenever newt thinks about what makes him Feel Human, the answer is always hermann. so newt starts conjuring up vivid mental images of hermann (doing mundane, hermann-y things) to ward off the Precursors. bonus point if, like, newt fondly remembering smth innocuous (like the scent of Hermann's chalk dust?) is enough to actually sever the alien mind control.
Anonymous asked: Maria!!! Would you ever write an angsty post uprising prompt? Or even a pre uprising? Anything with Newt fucking around with Kaiju and being sad i am HERE FOR 👏
in honor of the sequel’s 3 year anniversary, let’s try something a little different 👀 THIS ONE GOT AWAY FROM ME RE: LENGTH....I'll leave it up to interpretation whether or not the bonus is wholly fulfilled.... also on proofing this I realized it might need content warnings? so vague refs to disordered eating and alcohol drinking (ie, newt’s body is inhabited by aliens who forget how human stuff works)
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Honestly, Newt’s life has been kind of a shitshow lately. He’s too, like, high strung. Too many responsibilities. Not enough hours in the day to get that shit done. He’s even higher strung than he was during the war, which is nuts, because certain doom was lurking around every corner. Maybe that’s why it’s not that nuts, though. The war was chaotic—and Newt’s fueled (or, used to be fueled?) by chaos. The kaiju were unpredictable. The kaiju didn’t run on a 9-5 schedule. The kaiju didn’t expect Newt to have three new jaeger prototypes on their desk by noon on a fucking Saturday, which is usually the day Newt spends two hours in his expensive bath tub and drinks a nice bottle of wine, and definitely not a day he wants to spend giving himself a stress migraine and shouting at underlings to make themselves useful. On top of that, his usual cafe got his coffee order wrong—when Newt had to run in to get it, himself, on a Saturday morning—and it only had half the espresso shots he really needs for the day. No wonder he’s going grey at forty. Fucking nightmare. Stable employment is exactly the kind of chaos that’s bad for Newt—give him the kaiju any day, thanks.
“Dr. Geiszler?”
Newt pushes his sunglasses up, and scowls at whichever one of his employees has dared to interrupt his catnap. The fluorescent overheads are brutal on his poor eyes right now. The lab needs more natural lighting. Maybe if he complains, they’ll knock out some walls in put in a few more windows. “Did you find any Aspirin?” he says.
Wordlessly, Newt’s assistant passes him a bottle. Newt pops the cap off and takes at least four. The coffee he washes it down with is cold. “How are the last simulations coming along?” he says, flicking his sunglasses back down. He seems to have so many migraines these days. It’s the contact lenses, he thinks—making the switch over from frames so late in the game. Screwing with his perceptions. Newt went thirty years with frames, after all. “We only have two hours before—”
“We’re almost done,” his assistant cuts in. “We’re working as fast as we can, Dr. Geiszler.”
“But are we gonna make the deadline?” Newt says.
She fidgets, and moves her clipboard to her other arm. “Well—we’ve had some—issues.”
Newt stands up with a long sigh. Double overtime, probably. Sunday lost to this shit too. That new bottle of wine waiting for him on his kitchen counter bought for nothing. “Gotta do everything myself, huh? Unbelievable.”
He follows his assistant over to the main lab down the hall, where his team of j-techs are hurrying around. Hardly anyone in proper lab attire—no labcoats—someone in sweatpants—Newt wasn’t the only one who had his Saturday ruined, probably. No one else is going grey, though. “What’s this shit?” he says, stopping in his tracks with one foot through the doorway. The high-tech holo-smartboards have been pushed aside, and instead, someone’s wheeled in a huge…chalkboard.
“Technical issues,” his assistant says. “The other floors are having the same problem—something in the new interface update that downloaded last night, we think. They’re all out of commission. Technology is working on it, but for now, we had to pull that out of deep storage.”
Two of his scientists are scrawling across the board quickly—one with white chalk, the other with pink. They’re debating something in hushed tones. Newt hasn’t seen a chalkboard in years. It doesn’t fit with Shao Industry’s whole chic, sleek, futuristic aesthetic. So—bulky. And messy. “Of course it would happen today of all days,” Newt sighs. The sight of it makes him feel odd, and he can’t seem to drag himself any further into the lab and any closer towards it.
His assistant says something. Newt doesn’t hear—he’s listening, instead, to the squeaking of chalk across the blackboard. So noisy and obnoxious. It reminds him of years and years ago, of working in a grimy little basement, of…
“—look it over. Dr. Geiszler?”
“Hm?” Newt says. It was like a layer of fog had begun to lift from his thoughts, but the interruption sends it rolling right back in.
“I said we’re ready for you to look it over. Only if you want too, of course,” she adds, nervously.
“Uh-huh,” Newt says.
Newt’s never had anyone fear him before, not like his employees seem to fear him—he’s not sure he likes it. His scientists shut up the second he looms over (well—under, Newt’s never loomed over anyone in his life) their shoulders to inspect their work so far. The squeaking stops. One of them lowers their piece of chalk. “Wait,” Newt says, too-loudly, surprising them and himself. They both look at him with the same nervousness as his assistant, like he’s about to start shouting or something. “Keep doing that.”
“Keep…?”
“Writing,” Newt says. “On the chalkboard.”
The scientist frowns at him. “Um, okay,” she says. “What am I supposed to write?”
“Anything,” Newt says. “Seriously. Anything.”
She hesitates.
“Anything,” Newt repeats.
She picks up the white chalk, and writes out her name, then doodles a few random pictures—a DNA helix, a flower, a cat face, a star. Newt shuts his eyes, and breathes in deeply. That smell. He snags the forgotten piece of pink chalk from the ledge. “Can I have this?” he says. He doesn’t wait for them to respond—though they both nod yes frantically, and bewilderedly—before writing out his own name on the board. Dr. Geiszler. It looks wrong, so he writes Newt beneath it. He shuts his eyes, and writes Newt again. Why does he feel like he’s done this sort of thing before? This thing is ancient—before his time at Shao—he wouldn’t have used it before they carted off to the basement. Newt, Newt, Newt Was Here,he writes, Newt +, and then he stops.
He opens his eyes. “Who’s Hermann?” his assistant says.
Newt + Hermann. Newt didn’t realize he wrote it. “Someone I knew,” he says, faintly. “Years ago. He was my—” He swallows. He feels strange. “My colleague?”
Strange. Dizzy. The Aspirin isn’t working. Definitely the contact lenses. He could afford laser eye surgery now, if he wanted, maybe he should look into it. He grips the ledge of the chalkboard, swaying, and grits his teeth; his two scientists back away from him slowly, no doubt worried he’s about to hurl all over their shoes. He might, to be honest. Newt + Hermann. Hermann was his colleague. Hermann was his— “Are you feeling okay, Dr. Geiszler?” his assistant asks. “You look…”
“Tell Shao I’m taking the rest of the day off,” Newt says.
“What?”
“You guys got this shit handled without me,” Newt says. He pockets the chalk. “I’m not—I’m not feeling myself. I think I need to go home and lie down. Seriously, you’ve got it under control—all these numbers look, uh, good, I trust you. If you guys don’t get it finished you can just tell Shao it’s my fault, okay?”
She gapes at him. “Uh,” she says. “Okay?”
Newt doesn’t go home. He goes to the nearest shop he can find instead, and makes a beeline for the art supplies aisle. Only a few boxes of chalk in stock. Four multicolored, two all-white, one yellow. He drops them all into his basket but the yellow, which he rips opens and immediately smells. Newt + Hermann. Hermann always smelled like chalk dust—he always had a fine layer of it on his clothing, patches of it on his blazer, his sweatervest, even on his undershirt. Newt used to tease him for that. He closes his eyes, and breathes in again. Funny—all those baths, all those bottles of wine, and this stupid little box of chalk is what’s finally making him feel calm for once. Quieting down his brain. He didn’t realize how loud it’d gotten in there. When Hermann would kiss Newt, he would sometimes stain Newt’s clothing with chalk, too, and Newt would pretend to be annoyed, but he never really was.
Someone is speaking to him. An employee. They’re staring at him, a cautious distance away, and Newt’s not sure what they’re saying.
His vision’s gone blurry—he didn’t realize he’d started crying, either. He wipes his eyes on the cuff of his blazer and sniffles. “Sorry,” he says. The box of yellow chalk is wet. “Um. Do you have any more of these in the back?”
He takes the bus home for the first time in years, one hand stuffed in his little brown shopping bag the whole time, wrapped around a box of chalk. When he gets back to his apartment (his big, lonely, apartment), he pulls out the only food in his fridge—some leftovers from a Shao Industries event three nights ago—and settles down on his big, lonely couch. He can’t stop thinking about Hermann. Five or so years, maybe more, not thinking about Hermann, and now suddenly—it’s like the floodgates have opened. He thinks about Hermann’s haircut. (Bad.) He thinks about Hermann’s smile. (Silly, and sweet.) He thinks about Hermann’s dumb accent, and the clack of Hermann’s cane on the floor, and Hermann’s chalk squeaking over his chalkboard, and how it felt when Hermann would wrap him in his arms and kiss him and whisper things to him. Hermann’s sweaters always smelled like mothballs and stale cigarette smoke. Terrible combination.
Newt’s stomach growls. He’s finished the small bit of leftovers without realizing, and is apparently still hungry. He would kill for some sushi takeout right now. Or pizza, God. Yeah, it’d be screwing with his new diet and fitness plan—he casts a guilty glance over at his brand new exercise bike, which is gathering dust in the corner by his TV—but he’s tired of doing stupid kale and juice cleanses or whatever, just to please—well. He’s only human.
He is?
He walks up the stairs to his bathroom, and stares at himself in the mirror. Stupid vest. Stupid tie. Neat hair, clean-shaven cheeks, contact lenses. Newt’s only human. “I’m human,” he tells his reflection. Is he human? He felt human standing by that old chalkboard back in the lab, and holding that box of yellow chalk in the aisle of that little shop. He felt human when he was remembering things. Because of—Newt blinks at himself. Because of whom?
“Hermann,” he says, and smiles at the way the name makes him feel. He should text him, maybe.
-------------
“I must say,” Hermann says, “I was quite surprised when I received your dinner invitation. You’ve done a rather fine job of ignoring my calls as of late. I’d thought— Ah, thank you,” he adds, as Newt holds the door open for him. He steps into Newt’s apartment and cranes his neck around, squinting curiously, and then shoves a bottle of red wine at Newt’s chest. Hermann is much more personable than Newt remembers—what little Newt remembers—and he wonders if it’s age or something else. “I’ve been holding onto this one for a while. It’s the one you gave me as a part of a gift for my thirty-seventh birthday—you remember? Oh, but isn’t it so terrifically, er, modern in here.”
“Is it?” Newt says. He’s never given much thought to his apartment before, but he stares around at it now in mild interest. It is very chic, isn’t it? Monochrome. Impersonal. Not something Newt would’ve picked for himself. “Yeah, I had some interior decorators come in and do it for me.”
Hermann arches an eyebrow. “How…”
“Modern,” Newt offers. He puts the bottle of wine on his marble kitchen island. “Thanks for this, by the way, but I’ve actually been trying to cut back on the—” He bites back drinking. No need to alarm Hermann. “—Calories, so if it’s cool with you I’d rather not open it. I’m doing a, um, a new fitness program.”
“Ah,” Hermann says. “I suppose that explains that, then, doesn’t it?” He points at the dusty exercise bike. Newt watches his gaze move from that, to the barren leather couch, to the short staircase which leads to Newt’s shut bedroom door. Newt can practically see the gears working in his head. “Will—ah, what was their name, that little flight of fancy of yours—a dalliance, one might say—will they be, ah, joining the two of us?” He looks at Newt out of the corner of his eye. “Alice, was it?”
“Who?” Newt says, blankly.
Hermann breaks out in a broad grin, which he quickly tries, very badly, to turn into a sympathetic frown. He pats Newt’s arm. “There’s the spirit, then, Newton! All in the past, I presume? Hardly any use in dwelling on a broken heart. Then again—it’s not as if you were together long enough to warrant those sorts of dramatics, were you?” he says, cheerily. “What I mean is—certainly it wasn’t as if you had any sort of deep or emotional connection with—?—oh, I’ve forgotten the name again.”
“Uh,” Newt says. He’s not really sure who Hermann’s talking about, but just based on that fact alone, he would assume Hermann is right. “I guess not?”
“Precisely as I expected,” Hermann says, with a satisfied nod. “Rotten grounds for a relati—for a fling. You deserve far better, Newton.” Hermann touches Newt’s arm again, and this time, he doesn’t move his hand. It makes Newt’s skin prickle pleasantly. “You look well these days, though I admit it’s a bit of a shock to see you without your glasses,” Hermann continues, flicking his eyes up and down Newt twice. He lingers on Newt’s left hand, over the bare spot where—until this morning, when he suddenly realized how stupid it looked and yanked it off—he was wearing that Elvis ring. “Ending things must be treating you kindly. I don’t suppose I could dash to your loo?”
“Loo?” Newt says. “Oh, right. Yeah, it’s that door there, right off the living room.” He drops down onto the leather couch. “Knock yourself out. I’ll be right here.”
Hermann disappears into Newt’s bathroom, and comes back out three minutes later with combed hair, a straightened collar, and the vague smell of cologne. He’s tucking a small bottle into his top pocket. “I found a box of hair dye in your medicine cabinet,” he declares, smugly. “I knew there was no bloody way that was natural. Though I’m not surprised it fooled Alice.” He rests his cane against the glass coffee table and sits down next to Newt. Right next to Newt. The whole sofa to pick from, and he’d rather their thighs touch. Newt doesn’t mind—actually, the contact is strangely grounding, like Hermann’s hand on his arm had been earlier. He’s here, in his living room, with Hermann, his friend Hermann, his colleague Hermann, his—well, question mark—Hermann.
“Hermann, can I ask you something?” he says. “Something important?”
“By all means,” Hermann says, leaning in and fluttering his eyelashes. Even over the cologne, Newt can still make out that mothball-chalk-smoke smell.
“Do you take your coffee with sugar?” he says.
Hermann laughs. “Do I—what?”
Newt repeats the question. The smile slips off Hermann’s face, and he draws away, furrowing his eyebrows. “Well,” he says, “yes, usually, only I’m not sure what—”
“Sugar, and some milk,” Newt says. “It was the same with your tea. And you had a mug that you would use—you wouldn’t use any other. It was blue, and it said—” He exhales through his nose. “It said TU Berlin. That’s where you got your PhD.”
After Newt sent Hermann a text about dinner last night, he sat down with a pen and pad of paper and made a list of everything he could remember about Hermann. He started with what Hermann looks like, and who Hermann is, and then moved into the harder stuff like what Hermann likes and the sort of things Hermann used to do. He stayed up all night doing it, until his hand cramped and his head hurt even more than it had that morning, and then recited it over and over to himself in a whisper as he fell asleep. Hermann has brown eyes. Hermann likes blackberry jam on his toast. Hermann wears little glasses on a chain. Hermann uses a cane with a tiny little nick in the brass of the handle. The list is in his pocket now; it makes Newt feel calm, and even calmer when he reaches into his pocket and touches it. He exhales again, hard, and then inhales. “We were together,” he says. “When we closed the Breach, you told me you loved me.”
“I did,” Hermann says, quietly.
“I said it back,” Newt says.
Hermann nods.
Slowly, Newt reaches out and puts his hand over Hermann’s. Hermann makes a strange noise in the back of his throat—like a sigh, or maybe a groan. His pulse twitches erratically under Newt’s fingertips. “I bought chalk,” Newt says.
“You—” Hermann echoes, his voice choked. “You bought chalk?”
“It reminded me of you,” Newt says.
He’s not surprised when Hermann kisses him, but he is surprised at his knee-jerk reaction: to pull away, or push Hermann away, and to order him to get out of his apartment. He’s surprised, because those aren’t his thoughts. He doesn’t want Hermann to leave—he wants Hermann to stay longer, and kiss him more, and help him remember more. “Oh, Newton,” Hermann says. “Newton, Newton—” He moves his mouth to Newt’s neck, kissing, breathing, and whispering his name, and Newt shuts his eyes and forces himself to remember his list.
“Tell me things about you,” Newt begs. “I want to remember you.”
Hermann’s laughter, hesitant and confused, comes out in a puff of hot air against his skin. “Remember me?” he says. “I’m not sure— Are we not a bit—?”
“Hermann,” Newt says.
He grips the back of Hermann’s sweater, digging his nails in Hermann’s skin through the layers of fabric. Hermann must hear the urgency in his voice, because he shakes his head with another laugh, kisses Newt’s jaw, and says, “Well, alright. What am I even meant to tell you?”
“Your favorite color,” Newt says. Hermann kisses his chin. “Your favorite song. No, wait—” He nudges Hermann away from him, just enough so that Hermann can see him smile. “Tell me what you like about me.”
“Feeling rather egotistical tonight, aren’t we?” Hermann teases. He reaches out and brushes his fingers through the side of Newt’s hair. One of the spots Newt dyed—it was too grey. He catches Hermann’s hand by the wrist and pulls it away gently, but only to press himself up against Hermann’s chest instead. He can feel Hermann’s heartbeat. “I like—hm,” Hermann says. “I like your stubbornness. I like your passion. I like…”
His voice vibrates in his throat—Newt can feel that, too. He listens.
#newmann#maria's fanfiction tag#if Alice was a real person her picture would be on Hermann's dartboard#it probably is anyway#Anonymous
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A Heavy Battle Symphony - Chapter 4
New chapter! This chapter is slightly fluffy, still angsty, but much less than previous chapters.
Catch up here: Chapter 1 // Chapter 2 // Chapter 3
TW: language, mental abuse, verbal abuse, physical abuse, violence, depression, anxiety, panic attacks, self harm, self-esteem issues, sexual abuse (only alluded to briefly in future chapters), just a lot of trauma, angst, smut - lots of lovely gay smut
Word count: 1685
Chapter 4 - Forgotten
A little piece of paper with a picture drawn
Floats on down the street 'til the wind is gone
And the memory now is like the picture was then
When the paper's crumpled up it can't be perfect again
It was Monday, and he was healed enough that Maeve let him go to school. After a normal morning routine, Lorcan made sure he wore a hoodie that would do a decent job covering his neck. Hood up, hands in his hoodie pocket, head down, he headed to school.
He missed a lot of schoolwork. It was going to be a late night. Luckily, most of the teachers gave him until the end of the week to turn it in.
When P.E. came around, he went straight to the gym rather than the locker room. He found his teacher and handed him his doctor's note. Mr. Brullo sent Lorcan to the library to study. Lorcan was happy about that. He was able to catch up on some of his homework.
Lorcan's handwriting, luckily, wasn't hindered by his cast. Perrington at least broke his right arm, his non-dominant arm. That he was thankful for, if he could be thankful for anything that happened to him.
He was getting a headache from his pre-calc homework. Lorcan rubbed his face with his hand and sighed.
"Lorcan?"
Lorcan grunted and slowly turned to see Elide, who looked relieved to see him. That was interesting. "Oh, uh, hi."
"Aren't you supposed to be in gym?" Lorcan lifted his casted arm. Elide's eyes widened and her lips parted. "Oh." She swallowed. Fuck, here comes the pity. "How-" she closed her mouth. "How'd that happen? We thought you were sick." Why were they concerned?
He told the same story Maeve told the doctor. Something about getting in a fight and falling down stairs, and "you should see the other guy". She didn't seem to believe him, neither did the doctor.
"Can I sit with you?" Lorcan shrugged. She sat down and then proceeded to talk to him about what he missed in creative writing. He didn't realize her voice was so soothing.
"Has anyone signed your cast yet?" She was eyeing the black cast. "I have a silver Sharpie!" She pulled it out of her bag and held it up with a smile.
Lorcan huffed a small laugh. Not being able to say no to that smile, knowing he was going to get in trouble, well, what could really do to him anyway? So, Lorcan carefully pushed up his hoodie sleeve. She smiled brightly at him. He propped his head up on his hand, eyes closed and listened to her hum as she put ink to the black cast.
++++
It was hard to keep from asking Lorcan questions. Elide saw the handprint bruise on his neck, the exhaustion lining his body, and of course, the full arm cast. She thought about how his injuries were formed. Obviously, someone put their hands on him, but who?
She didn't know who he lived with besides his aunt. It was doubtful that a woman had done this sort of damage, but one never knows for sure.
As she put pen to plaster, she kept looking up at his face between strokes of ink. He had drifted off to sleep. His face was slack, a slight snore every time he breathed out. Lorcan looked so innocent like that and dare she say, gorgeous.
Having finished her artwork, she just watched him until the bell rang. She gently brushed a lock of hair off his forehead, delicately tucking it behind his ear. He didn't stir.
Elide wished there was something she could do to get him away from his more than shitty situation. Calling the police was probably out of the question, but that was really the only thing she could think of.
The bell rang.
---
He didn't realize he had fallen asleep until he felt his textbook being pulled from under his elbow. "Oh, shit. Sorry," Lorcan furrowed his brow as he started cleaning up his stuff.
"You looked tired, I didn't want to wake you, but it is lunch time." Elide smiled, "and you have to look at your cast!" She seemed so excited about it.
Expecting some nonsense, he was pleasantly surprised to find a nice line drawing from his elbow to his wrist. It was a row of detailed trees with her name under it. Lorcan looked at it with awe. He looked back at Elide, "You did that?" Obviously, she did that. Don't be stupid, Lorcan, he thought to himself.
She giggled. He thought her laugh was adorable. "Obviously." Lorcan's cheeks flushed while he finished packing up before they walked together to lunch in a comfortable silence.
---
He followed Elide through the lunch line, the lunch lady gave him an extra serving. He was probably looking a little gaunt these days having barely eaten for the past week. Lorcan started towards the empty table in the corner.
Apparently, Elide wasn't having any of that as she pulled him to the group table before he could go be alone. Everyone seemed excited to see him. His name was shouted amongst several other greetings. Lorcan felt a tug in his chest as he looked around at the friendly faces. Why were they always trying to be nice to him? And then his eyes fell on the silver haired boy, he instantly forgot what he was thinking. He stared at the green eyed beauty a fraction longer than he should have as he sat down.
Elide introduced everyone. Aelin, Lysandra, Manon, Dorian, Chaol, Fenrys, Connall, Rowan - the silver haired boy - and then Vaughn, who was the last one to join the table.
He was sitting between Elide and Fenrys. Lorcan kept his head down while he ate, feeling very out of place. Everyone was chatting around him, over him, leaning around him. It was a lot. He wished he was alone at the table in the corner.
Rowan spoke up, "Can I sign your cast?" Lorcan jerked his head up. The sleeve of Lorcan's hoodie was still pushed up, he had forgotten to pull it back down which was unusual, but under the current circumstances, it made sense.
Lorcan's heart sped and he suddenly felt warmth spread up his neck. It drove him crazy how much his body reacted of its own accord around Rowan. He wished it would stop.
There was no reason to deny him when the punishment was coming now anyway since Elide's Sharpie touched the cast in the library, so he just shrugged and moved his arm towards the center of the table, towards Rowan.
"Elide, can I borrow your Sharpie?" She handed it over with a nod and went back to animatedly talking to the other girls about something.
Lorcan was careful not to press into the edge of the table, as he adjusted his arm. "I don't think mine will be as pretty as Elide's. Sorry in advance." Lorcan just shrugged a shoulder. He watched Rowan do his little doodle.
Then Rowan grabbed Lorcan's hand to carefully twist his arm to get to a different part of the cast easier causing electricity to shoot through his skin. His breath hitched. The soft fingers lingering on his skin, he never wanted the other boy's hand to move. Lorcan's eyes darted to Rowan's face to see if he noticed anything weird. All he saw was intense concentration, the way his tongue stuck out just a tad and his brows stitched together. Suddenly he was too warm, chest tight, heart pounding. Hellas below.
"There!" Rowan smiled at his silly nonsensical line doodle signed with his name. "All done." That smile did weird things to his stomach and the absence of those warm fingers made all the heat he had just been feeling disappear. A shiver ran down his spine.
Rowan capped the Sharpie and went to hand it back to Elide when Fenrys grabbed it.
"Can I?"
"Yeah." He was screwed anyway.
By the end of lunch, his cast was covered in names and doodles by his... Friends? They couldn't be friends, could they?
As he walked to his next class, he started panicking. His chest tightening for a whole other reason than being in close proximity to a certain boy. A tightness that was only reminiscent of growing anxiety. He shouldn't have let anyone sign it. What was he thinking?
Fuck.
++++
"Lorcan," Rowan breathed as he saw the dark haired boy basically being dragged by Elide to their table. Everyone perked up at that and welcomed him back.
Rowan saw his pained expression. Then, he saw the cast and the light purples, greens, and yellows on his neck that Lorcan was obviously trying to hide with the hood of his hoodie. It looked like a handprint. A fucking handprint. His gut roiled at the thought.
But then Lorcan looked at him, and oh boy, those eyes were going to be the end of him. They were an amazing onyx, almost like pools of night. His cheeks heated and he hoped no one noticed.
He finally got the courage to ask to sign his cast. And when Lorcan leaned over to get his arm closer to Rowan, he noted the stiffness and slight discomfort that flitted over his face. There was so much damage to Lorcan's body that they couldn't see. It made him unbearably sad thinking about it.
For the rest of lunch, while everyone signed Lorcan's cast, Rowan just sat there silently, observing the beautiful dark haired boy. He'd catch his eye every now and then give him a small smile, which was never returned. His eyes just quickly flitted away. Lorcan, he learned was very hard to read.
Rowan wished they could hang out, just the two of them. He wanted to get to know him and help him. And know what those lips felt like, tasted like. How it would feel to thread his fingers through his long dark hair that was usually in a messy bun. Or just to hold his hand. Fuck, he had it bad.
____
Thank you for reading! Let me know if you would like to be tagged.
@thenerdandfandoms @starlightorstarfire
#rowcan fanfic#rowcan#rowan x lorcan#rowan whitethorn#lorcan salvaterre#heavy battle symphony#crackship
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If this was the day he had been looking forward to his entire life, why did it suddenly seem so difficult? It was the day before his 18th birthday - at the stroke of midnight, which was just in a few hours, he’d be legally free of the people who called themselves his parents. He’d spent his entire conscious life outside of this house as much as possible, so why did it feel so sad to leave? He didn’t have anywhere to go really, but anything would be better than where he was right now. He was looking around his room, a tiny, bare space that had just a bed, and came to the realization that he had nothing to pack. He had nothing to bring with them. This would make it easier to get out of here he supposed, but a lot of it just felt sad. Seb knew that he had no other choice, he couldn’t stay here, and he couldn’t wait to get his life together and stay here until he could afford a place of his own.
The only thing he had that he couldn’t leave behind was a drawing that Caden had done for him. It was just a stupid doodle, nothing serious, but Seb had taped it beside his bed over a year ago and found himself staring at it when things were particularly bad or he felt like he couldn’t do this anymore. It got him through more than he cared to admit, being able to look at that drawing and knowing that he wasn’t alone. He had Caden and Cory and people who would draw him silly things to make him laugh. He peeled the picture off of the wall, before carefully folding it up and tucking it into his pocket. With one last glance at the room, he was down the stairs and out the door without a look back. He vaguely heard his father yell his name, his full name, which he couldn’t stand the sound of, but he didn’t even hesitate. He was gone, and they would have no control over his life any longer. They couldn’t hit him, or scream at him, call him names.. they were never going to be able to touch him again. He was finally free - even though with nowhere to go, it didn’t quite feel as good as it should have. But anything was better than that house. Seb knew that the only place he could go right now was the one house he ever felt safe in. He didn’t even knock anymore - just let himself right into the Blake house. This was his family, not the people he just behind.
Cory was on the couch with the oldest Blake brother Emmett, the others most likely already asleep, and Seb flopped right down beside his best friend as soon he walked in. He didn’t say anything for a bit, just nodding his hello to both of them, leaning his head against the back of the couch. “I did it, Cor,” he finally told her, his voice quiet. “I left.” He hadn’t told her of his plans, that he was going to do this on his own, but she knew how bad his home life was. She had been there this whole time, she had helped him take care of injuries, had let him sleep here when he was too afraid to go home, had been the sole reason he had made it as long as he had in that house. “I don’t know.. what I’m going to do. But I’m free.”
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Can I see your sketchbook?
Adrinette April Day 13 - Scarf Reveal
@adrinetteapril
Ao3
"Hey Marinette, what are you drawing?" Adrien asked as he peered over her shoulder.
"GWAAAAH!" Marinette jumped up, tossing her sketchbook into the air, whipping her head around.
"Sorry! I didn't mean to startle you!" Adrien held his hands up apologetically.
"Ah! You're okay- I mean-! You- it's- it's okay," Marinette sputtered, trying to regain her composure, and failing as her voice climbed higher and higher. She cleared her throat and leaned over to pick up the tossed sketchbook. "D- did you need something?" She smiled a little too wide and crossed her arms awkwardly.
"I- um," Adrien trailed off and looked away. "It's gonna sound stupid." He laughed and rubbed the back of his neck.
"I don't think anything stupid could come out of your mouth," she blurted.
"What?" Adrien turned back to her.
"I mean-! I'm- I'm sure it won't sound stupid!" She laughed and bit her tongue to try and prevent herself from saying anything else.
"Oh," he smiled gently. "Well, I just noticed that you looked really concentrated when you were drawing, more so than usual, so I got curious." He braced his hands on the back of the bench. "So, I was wondering if I could see what you were drawing, if you're okay with that of course," he looked down at his hands, then glanced up at her through his bangs. Wh- where those… puppy dog eyes?
"Huh," she blinked at him, processing what he'd said. "Oh!" She sat up straight and looked between the sketchbook in her hands and Adrien. "Yeah, yeah sure, here," she opened her book and flipped rapidly to the most recent page with nervous fingers. She pointed to the drawing and held it out for him to see. Marinette could feel the warmth of his breath on her neck as he leaned over her shoulder. She bit her tongue again.
"Wow," he breathed. "These are amazing, as always." He smiled and stared intently at the sketches. They were drawings for a winter outfit idea that had been dancing around in her head for days.
"You think so?" She whispered, cursing the heat that crawled up her face.
"Definitely," he nodded and glanced at her. The strict determination in the way he said it as if it was a fact made her stomach flip. He looked back at the sketches. After a while he spoke up again, "Marinette,"
"Hmm?" She hummed, tapping her fingers on the side of the book nervously.
"Can I look through your book?" There was a hesitant pleading in his voice.
"Y-you want to- me? Mine?" She pointed at herself and gawked at him.
"Yeah, if you're okay with it of course," he fiddled with his fingers again. "I know how protective artists can be with their sketchbooks." He looked away again. “Cause, you know, my dad.” Adrien’s father was the king of Parisian fashion himself, Gabriel Agreste. A fashion icon and her idol for a while.
"Uuh," she gaped at him dumbly before blinking. "Yeah, sure!" She thrust the sketchbook out to him. "Go crazy! I mean- you- you can look through it if you want." She smiled and cringed internally.
"Really?" His eyes lit up the way a childs does on Christmas Eve. Marinette nodded thoroughly, not trusting herself to coherently reply with words. "Thanks, Marinette." He took the sketchbook gently like it was a treasure and opened it up.
Marinette sat watching him and twiddled with her thumbs.
"Can I sit here?" Adrien looked up and pointed to the bench next to her.
"Oh, yeah, sure, sure," she swiped up her pencil bag and slid over on the seat to make room for him. And, even though there was plenty of room, he promptly sat next to her, not looking up from the sketchbook. He flipped through a few pages, gasping at her designs and chuckling at jokes and doodles scribbled in the margins. Marinette flipped her pencil in her hand and glanced at him out of the corner of her eye every so often.
"Wow," Adrien mumbled, tracing his hand over the page.
"Hmm?" Marinette perked up and glanced at him.
"Oh, I just," he blinked and glanced between here and the sketchbook. "There's so many of them," he whispered, showing her the page he was looking at. It was a spread covered in concept sketches for Chat Noir merch.
Marinette smiled. "Oh, well you know when Nino commissioned me for that Chat Noir shirt?" She leaned over and pointed at the drawings. "I got a bit carried away," she laughed. A bit was an understatement. She'd spent days examining Chat's costume during battle, trying to think of interesting items based off of his design. It caused the akuma battles to have taken longer than necessary, and earned her a few confused looks from her partner, but the finished product was worth it in the end.
"So you're a pretty big fan of his?" Adrien asked, a hint of shyness in his voice.
She laughed warmly. "I guess you could say that." Marinette was probably his biggest fan, being best friends with him and all. "Though I'd never tell him that, it would go straight to his head."
Adrien laughed and looked back at the sketchbook. "Right, you wouldn't want to inflate his ego." He shook his head and continued to flip through the book.
Marinette leaned over and looked at the book with him. "That one was inspired by this funny car I saw." she pointed at a dress. "It had this silver finish and bright red paint." Adrien nodded and flipped the page. "Oh, and these were for a challenge. I had to find a bottle and design something based off of the shape of the bottle." She pointed at a sketch in the top left corner. "My mom uses this one as a planter." It was a nice vase that sat on the windowsill in their living room.
They sat peacefully as Marinette explained her sketches and Adrien flipped through them, asking a few questions and making comments.
Then, he flipped to a page with designs for a suspiciously familiar blue scarf. Marinette's heart rate picked up speed as she snatched the book from Adrien's hands. "Oh okay, I- I think that's enough," she stuttered and clutched the book to her chest, looking away. Adrien's eyes were wide as he stared at her.
He blinked and sighed. "Let me see the book, Marinette." He put out this hand expectantly. She stared at his open palm. Her tongue was like lead in her mouth. "I'm not mad, okay." He bent over to look her in the eye. She only stared back, going red with shame. "Please, Marinette?"
Slowly, Marinette handed him the book. Adrien took it and looked at the sketches for his scarf. Of the scarf she made for his birthday, but through some slip-up Adrien was told that his father had given the scarf to him. "Marinette," he started, "you knew, didn't you? Why didn't you say anything?" His voice sounded so deeply sad, it broke her heart.
"I- I- did, know. I knew. I mean, of course I knew. I just," she cupped her face in her hands, taking a deep breath. "You were just so happy when you thought it was from your dad, I- I didn't want to ruin that." She huffed and pulled her hands away from her face. "But I know, not telling you is like the equivalent of lying to you and I'm super sorry that I didn't tell you, but like, how am I even supposed to say something like that?" She threw her arms out, exasperated. "Hey Adrien, sorry to burst your bubble, but you know that scarf that you got on your birthday from your dad who's given you the same dumb pen for the past three years, well yeah, guess what, actually it's not from your dad at all, it was from me, your silly classmate, Marinette." She facepalmed and groaned. "I'm sorry, that was mean." She peeked at him through her fingers.
Adrien was still staring at her, but not with the same underlying sadness as before.
"Adrien, you okay? Your face is really red," she asked, leaning closer to get a better look.
"I-!" Adrien blurted, looking away. "I'm fine," he exhaled deeply. "I just, I didn't know you cared that much," he whispered, glancing at her out of the corner of his eye.
"Of- of course I care, Adrien," she reassured. "I'm sorry again that I didn't tell you." She bit her lip. "I'm also sorry that your dad is a huge jerk and didn't get you a present." She bawled her hands into fists and frowned.
"It's fine, it's not that big of a disappointment anyways," he laughed, brushing it off. "And besides," his tone softened, "now I like it even more." He opened the sketchbook and traced a finger over the blue scarf.
"Hmm?" Marinette hummed and blinked at him.
"Now it reminds me of how much you care, which is a much more dear thing," he explained softly, smiling at her. "Thank you, Marinette."
"Buuh," she gaped as her heart did somersaults. "I- I'm glad you like it." She smiled back and pinched her arm. Not dreaming. He laughed and continued to flip through the sketchbook with a soft smile.
#ml#mlb#miraculous#miraculous ladybug#marinette dupain cheng#adrien agreste#adrinette#adrinette april#adrinette april 2020#day 13 scarf reveal#my writing#ml fic#mlb fic#ml fanfic#mlb fanfic
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Messenger Roomba
It had been a quiet day at the manor, for once. Something everyone had been trying to make the most of it. Especially The Spine, as he sat in his room, pouring over a new song. Lyrics had been bouncing around in his head for a while now. He just had to make them make sense.
While he was working away, scribbling in a notepad, a Roomba slipped into his room. Without doors, it wasn’t uncommon, and he hardly gave them a thought. At least until they bumped into his leg and beeped.
He glanced down and raised an eyebrow. There was a piece of paper stuck to their head.
Strange, he thought as he picked up the folded paper to read what was inside. Likely someone had just missed a trash can, but it wouldn’t hurt to look.
Hastily scribbled on one side in glittering ink, it simply read: ‘Hi Spine!’ and was signed with a large R.
Spine sighed and gently pinched the bridge of his nose. Really? He thought to himself. Sitting up a little, he pinged Rabbit over the wifi. “You can just ping me if you want to talk, Rabbit. You know that.”
Nothing.
Another sigh and he put the paper down on the desk. Rabbit and her weird ideas. There were easier ways to talk if she had something to say. It wasn’t like their rooms were that far apart either if she really needed him.
Intent on throwing away the note and getting back to work, Spine noticed the Roomba still sitting there, waiting.
“Oh, fine! But only because it’s you,” he told them as he turned the paper over. In a neat manuscript, he wrote back: ‘Hello, Rabbit.’ And signed it with an S. Putting it back on the Roomba, he smiled at their excited beep as they zoomed away.
A messenger Roomba, not the weirdest thing in the manor. Not even the oddest Roomba. Rollie had finally learned to roll without their training wheels. It was a proud moment for Spine. If this one wanted to pass along notes, he supposed it didn’t really hurt.
Hopefully, that would keep Rabbit busy for a while, and he could get back to work. He wanted to, at least, get the idea written out before turning in for the night.
He at least had a few moments of peace before Roomba came rolling in again and beeping to get his attention. Another note was placed carefully on their top. Picking it up, he opened it up to read it.
‘Whatcha doin’?’ was scribbled on it with the same glittering ink. He didn’t have any expectations that it would be important if she was sending notes via Roomba, but she could have at least put some effort into it, honestly!
All the same, he turned it over again. ‘I’m working on a new song.’ Maybe that would give him some peace.
That was a short lived hope as another note came in shortly after. This was probably the worst way they could be communicating right now. But he humoured her and read the next note.
‘Me too! I’m stuck on the chorus. How many ‘La’s are too many?’
He groaned and put his head in his hand. If she wanted to talk about music like this, they’d be there all night. It wasn’t worth the effort. Instead of answering, he wrote back. ‘Rabbit, this conversation would go a lot faster if you just pinged me over the wifi.’
Less time between visits this time. Rabbit had sent her lyrics over with a few question marks on top.
This was easier at least. Relenting, he went over her song, jotting down notes in the margins, and corrected some spelling mistakes. Honestly, for a bot with built in internet access, why did she misspell so many words? Once he thought he had caught everything he could mention or help with, he sent it back with the Roomba who beeped happily along.
He at least got more time to work on his own song while she read through his notes. It was good to know she at least took his advice seriously, even if she rarely took him seriously any other time.
A simple ‘Thanks’ and a doodle of Rabbit giving a peace sign was all she sent.
He supposed it was polite to thank him, but, ‘Rabbit, the Roombas have work to do.’ He tried to remind her as he sent the Roomba off to, hopefully, get some work of their own done. And maybe, just maybe, he could finish his too.
Or she would just ignore when he reminded her of things she didn’t want to do. But this time, it was a bit longer.
'Isn’t this neat! It’s like sending secret messages! Like before everyone else got on wifi!’
Ah. Now he understood where these notes were coming from.
There had been a time when they were the only ones that could connect wirelessly, at least within the manor walls. Rabbit must have missed it. Now that Spine was thinking about it, he did too. They had told each other jokes and comforted each other when they couldn’t speak.
Sometimes it made the lonely nights in the labs easier. When they were too far away to talk with each other, or when they were too nervous to power down. They could at least talk and feel like they were still in the same room. It reminded him that he wasn’t really ever alone, even if they couldn’t be together.
Now with cellphones and tablets, everyone was buzzing around. A constant drone they had to block out to get some peace. They didn’t talk as freely as they used to.
Grinning a bit to himself, he wrote back. Opting to be just a little cheeky, he didn’t have to be serious all the time. ‘Just be careful they aren’t intercepted.’
Work all but forgotten, he waited for the next note to come.
He didn’t have to wait long.
‘Nah! This one is faster than GG, I checked.’ Along with the note, Rabbit had doodled GG sitting down and pouting.
The Spine couldn’t help but laugh, hard, when he saw it. GG must have been upset to lose. And likely hated that she wasn’t in the know.
‘Good! Then maybe we can get some peace for once.’
‘So! What song are you working on Spine-o!’
Right, he had been working. Looking the paper over, he hummed softly. He could explain it to her. Or he could just send it to her with the help of the Roomba.
Beeping happily, they scooted off down the hall and to his sister’s room. In the distance, he could hear GG yell for them to come to her. He laughed.
When he got his notepad back, it was covered in little hearts in different colours.
He smiled as he looked it over and sat it back down. Along with his music, there was another note.
‘Did you get dumped again?’
Steam rushed through his vents as he heated up. ‘No!’ He hastily scribbled back and sent it back. He hadn’t had a date to get dumped by, but that was hardly the point. Rude!
He was still pouting when the Roomba came back again.
‘We’ve got a real nice blender that just came in the other day, I could introduce you.’
Chuckling, he shook his head while he put the note on his desk to respond.
‘No thanks, Rabbit. We don’t have the same tastes in appliances.’ Still chuckling to himself, he sent the Roomba off. They spent the rest of the evening talking before he gave up on his song and laid down for the night. It was nice to just talk for a while.
In the middle of the night, the Roomba rolled in again, gently bumping into his bed frame.
Groaning softly, Spine rubbed his face before blindly reaching for the Roomba and the note. He didn’t mind the notes, but they needed time to recharge and rest. If it was an early morning pun, he was going to ignore her.
It wasn’t a pun. There were no words at all, just a poor doodle of a sad face. It took his brain a moment to warm up enough to understand what that meant.
It was a bad night again. She hadn’t had one of those in ages. Or maybe, it had just been ages since she had let anyone know. That was concerning, she should know she could always come to him if something was wrong. Rabbit may have been the oldest, but he was the support of the manor.
Sitting up, he tried to wake up enough to go check on her. Only, she hadn’t come when she knew she could. He tried to ping her over the wifi, only to be greeted with silence. So, that’s how it was.
Padding over to his desk, he turned on the desk lamp and pulled out a piece of paper. ‘It’s all right, Rabbit. I’m here whenever you need me,’ he reminded her and sent the note off.
He leaned back in his chair while he waited. Time seemed to drag on forever while he sat there, minutes ticking by too slowly for his liking.
Eventually, the Roomba did wheel their way back to him. He hardly waited for them to stop before grabbing the note.
‘I know. It’s just hard talkin’ about it. Ya know?’
He smiled softly. Yeah, he understood that just fine. If she didn’t want to talk about it, that was just fine.
‘It’s okay, you don’t have to.’ Spine couldn’t draw like his sister, but he doodled a little guitar with musical notes floating around it.
On the really bad nights, they sang together or made up silly stories to distract each other from what was bothering them. It wasn’t the same as connecting to each other, but they talked through the night, changing lyrics in songs to be silly and making jokes until light started to filter into The Spine’s window. He hadn’t even noticed how late it was.
‘How are you feeling?’
‘A lot better, thanks.’
It was a relief. Spine knew he couldn’t make everything go away. Things were never that simple, even when your brain’s composed of wires.
‘I’m glad.’ He doodled his own face with a thumbs up. Or well, as close as he could manage on his own.
When there came no reply, he worried a little. She probably just fell asleep, likely had none at all.
Putting away his pen, Spine looked to his bed. There was time to get some more sleep, at least, but he thought better of it. It wasn’t like he needed a full night's sleep. He wasn’t human after all.
Putting on a fresh suit, he was adjusting his fedora when the Roomba finally came back. Kneeling down, he gave them a pat. “Thanks for all the help, buddy. I really appreciate it.”
Instead of a note, it was a picture. The two of them were sitting at the duck pond and laughing. He could get a hint.
Getting a fresh piece of paper, he carefully sat the picture on his desk to keep.
‘I’ll see you soon, Rabbit. Don’t forget the feed, you remember last time, don’t you?’
Having a messenger Roomba was nice, but nothing beat talking face to face.
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