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milliesfishes · 2 days ago

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[fem reader] contains: fake dating pairing: coriolanus snow x fem reader author’s note: been awhile since I've done a coryo fic hehe hope you enjoy <3 Pinterest Board Spotify Playlist

Coriolanus stifled a yawn, forcing himself to stare at the sheet of paper in front of him. The words were blurring into each other, and he wasn't even sure what class he was in anymore.

The girl he'd taken out last night had been talkative to say the least. The servers at the restaurant had begun to clean up around them until Coriolanus had finally stood up and practically announced that he had an early morning and so they should call it a night.

She'd been fine with it, but when they had pulled up outside her house and he bid her farewell, she'd talked for another hour. It was midnight by the time he got home. Even know he could hear her voice grating at the insides of his mind. It was decidedly hard to focus.

At least she didn't attend the university. He wasn't sure if he could stand seeing her around here after that disaster of a night. It was the seventh in a lineup of women he'd been propositioned to take out. Old family traditions practically required it, and he'd entertained the notion. After all, if he wanted to get anywhere in the realm of politics, he'd need a wife at his side.

But the crop of debutantes proved disappointing. Charmless, rude, annoying. After last night, he'd had it. If it meant he'd have to attend every charity event and gala and dinner by himself, that was just fine. At least he'd be awake for school.

Even if he did that, he wouldn't be able to get away. The elder wealthy women of the Capitol were relentless, pushing their daughters or granddaughters in his direction. An eligible younger man was one of the worst things to be at social events. He attended to make connections, not flirt with every woman in the vicinity.

Now his jaw stretched in a yawn he reached up to cover just in time. Maybe he could skip the hour of study he usually took in the library and head straight home. He'd undoubtedly be turning in early tonight.

"Late night?" you asked sympathetically, blinking at him through your glasses.

Coriolanus nodded, fixing his tired eyes on you. A tiny smile graced your lips, and he felt a little more awake because of it. "Yes." You were another library regular, always lost behind a towering stack of books and scribbling something in your pink notebook. But the way he knew of you went beyond sharing space and having one or two classes together.

His last name was famous because of his father, one in a long line of important ancestors who shaped Panem in some way. Yours was for an entirely different reason.

The things people used to whisper about you when you were both still in the Academy were far from dignified. About your father's cowardice. The way your mother took a nightlife line of work after he deserted both the military and your family. Your brothers were nothing but trouble in the eyes of the public- drunks who caused a world of trouble in the streets.

He remembered seeing you during the war. Clinging to your mother's hand, a pair of teenagers lurking behind her. Tigris always had sympathy for you in particular. "She hasn't done anything, but because she was born in the wrong family everyone's awful to her." He always agreed. But he had enough problems of his own.

Class was dismissed, and you stood, folding your books back into place and keeping your head down as you made your way out of the room. He noticed people turning to each other, watching as you disappeared. Their whispers were no doubt unfavorable.

Coriolanus re-packed his textbook, wandering out into the hallway. Thinking about the war and his association of you with it had left him feeling some kind of way. He looked at his watch, any notions of tiredness suddenly fleeing. Maybe he'd head to the library after all.

You were there when he arrived, already writing in your notebook, head down, finger tapping at a line on an open page. Always the perfect student. He remembered that about you.

Turning to his usual table, he froze when he saw who was seated behind it. While his date last night didn't attend the university, several of his previous ones did, and two of them were sitting in a group of girls where he usually did. Ducking his head and hoping they didn't see him, he made for your table without thinking, pulling out a chair roughly and setting himself down.

When he looked at you, your eyes were already on him, brows knit in confusion. Coriolanus felt a twinge of sympathy. You likely weren't used to company like this.

"Can I help you?" The way you asked wasn't unkind. He stared at you for a moment, something brewing within. Your hair was pulled back, but a little strand had fallen from the clip at the back of your head, touching your cheek so delicately that he doubted you'd noticed.

The pack of girls giggled behind him. He leaned forward, words falling from his lips before he could stop them.

"I have a proposition for you."

"Pretend?" You leaned against the wall in the hallway where he'd ushered you, instinctively covering the strap of your bag. Coriolanus remembered briefly how fellow students at the Academy used to steal and hide your books from you.

"Pretend," he confirmed, resisting the urge to shift on his feet. "We would pretend to be...together."

"Why?" You asked it in such a non-judgmental way. Eyes innocent, lips parted just barely as you waited for his response.

Straightening, Coriolanus tried to explain clearly. "I need someone to be with me at different events. So it looks like I'm unavailable. To other women."

You tilted your head. "Why?"

He didn't feel like explaining his views on love at the moment. But your eyes were so earnest, and he almost felt like he could tell you every detail about his entire life and you'd listen. So he didn't lie. "I can't have a serious relationship right now."

"Hmm." Nodding, you bit the side of your cheek, looking to the side. "So what does this mean? I'd have to go to parties...but what else?"

"Dates, potentially." Coriolanus was a little surprised you were taking this so lightly. Any other girl would have laughed, maybe, or tried to turn the situation around. But you were simply listening, acting like you were taking it seriously. "We'd have to be seen together."

"Do I get anything out of it?" You were looking back into his eyes now.

He nearly did a double take. This was the most he'd ever heard you speak. "You could be compensated-"

"No. Don't pay me," you interrupted, shaking your head and looking away again. "It's too much like...it wouldn't feel right to me."

Coriolanus watched you, suddenly remembering one of the things he'd heard others say about your mother and how she earned a living. He didn't know what you'd been exposed to, but based on your expression, it couldn't be good. "Okay. Is there anything else you want?"

You thought for a moment, perking up a bit. "You have connections. And influence. Is there any chance you could use it...um..." Trailing off, your cheeks flushed.

"What?" His tone softened involuntarily.

Letting go of your bag, you began to fidget with your hands. "At the tuition offices, maybe?"

"Ah." He didn't mean to say it out loud, quickly remedying when you began to turn away, eyes on the ground. "Yes, of course. I'll see what I can do." It wouldn't be hard. Heaven knew how many times he'd had to butter up on charm for a discount for himself. Getting it for someone else would be a walk in the park.

"Okay." You looked back up. "Thank you."

"So we have a deal?" Coriolanus found himself nearly holding his breath. He almost kicked himself. An hour ago you were merely the youngest child of a disgraced family, only a classmate to him. But now you were the potential answer to his problems.

He couldn't say why he'd done it. Why he hadn't taken back what he'd said in the library and moved on. Seeing you look up at him had flipped a switch in his mind. Something about you was just...different.

After so many outings with women of his social class, he had come to know the way they all looked at him. There was a glint of hunger, and he knew what it was for. Money, power status. All packaged into one little look. You had more reason than any of them to have it, and he may have excused it if he did see it. But even when you were shyly asking him to use his connections, he didn't see it once.

Maybe that was why his heart practically jumped when you quietly said, "Yes." The way you responded was so meek. You were back to holding your bag strap, and another strand of hair had left your ponytail.

His heart jumped again. He'd have to get that under control if he was going to be spending so much time with you.

"Is this really necessary?"

Coriolanus took a sip of champagne before setting his glass down, staring at the curtain you were behind. You poked your head out, your ponytail falling over your shoulder. "I have plenty of clothes."

He knew that wasn't true. The sweater you'd worn to school that day had a hole in the shoulder and the hem, and he'd seen a new one under one of the arms when you reached for something on the counter. Even though you'd fixed your elbow back to the side almost immediately, he knew what he'd seen. It was third of a rotation of four sweaters he'd seen you in, and none of the others were in much better shape.

If he let you wear the same worn-out hand me downs as before, the relationship wouldn't be believable. Were you and him truly together, he would spoil you beyond belief.

"Yes," he responded, looking you in the eye. "It's necessary. Show me the first dress."

You exited, one hand tugging at the side of the silky black dress he'd picked out for you. "This is pretty."

"It is," he agreed, watching you look at yourself in the full-length mirror. The fabric clung to you everywhere it should, the slit in the leg not climbing high enough to be inappropriate. His eyes became fixed to the exposed sliver of your thigh for a moment before he shook it off. "We'll take that one. Try the others on too."

Pausing before you reached the fitting room, he saw you cup something in your hand, your neck bending to look at it. Whipping back around to Coriolanus, you took a step toward him with wide eyes. "This is too much."

He quirked an eyebrow. "Too much?"

You lowered your voice, eyes darting around the room even though it was just the two of you right then. "The price is too high." Shifting forward a little, you turned to the side, holding out the rounded tag so he could see.

Not bothering to look, Coriolanus shook his head. "It's fine. Go try another one."

"But-" You did a quick check of the room again before continuing. "I don't want you to spend so much on me."

"We still have to go to shoes and jewelry." Coriolanus pretended to check his watch, and you scurried back behind the curtain.

The rest of the dresses were a breeze. You slowly became more comfortable with it, fidgeting less with the fabric and standing up straight. By the last dress, he could nearly believe you were a high-born Capitol lady. Good. That was something to work with. He handed you off to one of the department store employees when you got to shoes and jewelry, wandering off to pick out a stack of new sweaters in your size.

He'd whispered a few extra instructions to the woman you'd walked off with, so after he'd handed over his card, he made himself comfortable in the furnished waiting area, accepting another glass of champagne. He pulled one of his schoolbooks out, figuring he'd knock out a bit of reading since you had both skipped the library to be here.

When you were brought back to him, your hair was tied up, and you were holding a small paper shopping bag. Coriolanus stood. You were back in the clothes you'd arrived in. "Where are the rest of your bags?"

"At the register," you said, biting the inside of your cheek. "This is more than I need-"

"What's in here?" he asked, gesturing to the bag you were holding.

He wanted to thumb your bottom lip away from your teeth. You were going to get a sore. "Hair things. And perfume. But Coriolanus-" Momentarily distracted by how your voice sounded around his name, he forced himself to listen. "-I can't bring any of this home."

"Why not?"

"My mother might..." you flushed. He nodded, urging you on. "The clothes would be fine because we don't wear the same size. But everything in here..." holding up the bag, you looked dejected. "She might take it and say it's for...clients."

"I see." He mulled it over for a moment, flipping through ideas. There was no way he'd ever admit it, but he knew the plight of having to guard fine possessions.

"Maybe I'll be able to hide it," you tried, swaying the bag. "I need to shower tonight with these. Maybe I can just hide them after I'm done."

"Here." Coriolanus held out his hand. When you hesitated, his voice dropped to a whisper. "We're supposed to be together."

You laced your fingers through his, and he picked up both your school bags and slung them over his opposite shoulder. The payment was already taken care of, and he knew the bags would have been brought out to the car already. Holding his head high, he guided you through the store, making sure you didn't fall behind him.

Once in the car, he turned the key and said casually. "We're going to mine."

"Why?" You pressed your knees together, brow knit once again. One day he'd like to take his thumb and smooth it out.

"So you can shower." Coriolanus pulled into the street, smoothly weaving through the few other cars out at this hour. "I'll have you home in time."

"Coriolanus," you said exasperatedly. "You already spent more on me today than anyone has in my life. You don't need to pretend with me in private too."

That snagged his attention. "It's not pretending with this. You..." Your eyes were on him, he could feel it. The pure magnetism of your being directed him to look back, and he would have had he not been driving. "You deserve nice things." There was more he could have said, but he left it at that. You were silent all the way to his penthouse.

The look on your face was similar to the one he'd seen when you first walked into the department store. You tried to play it off, but he knew the feeling well. Coriolanus' entire upbringing had been hinged on pretending not to have it. You hid it well, but he could still see the hints of it.

Coriolanus showed you to his bathroom, flipping the light on and setting you up with your new soap and perfume. He left you alone, wishing Tigris was here to balance things out. You needed a woman's touch, that much was clear.

He stayed in the living room after bringing one of the bags with your new sweaters and skirts inside, trying to pretend like he wasn't intrigued by the idea of you in clothes that weren't ill fitting.

It's not real, he reminded himself, staring at the notebook on the table. She's not your girlfriend. It's natural to be curious. It's just a girl in your bathroom.

"Coriolanus?"

His head snapped up. "Yes?"

"Um." There was a pause. "I'm bleeding."

"Bleeding?" Coriolanus leapt to his feet, rushing to the door. He pushed it open without thinking, greeted by the sight of you with a towel wrapped around your body, sitting on the bench in front of his bed. You were bent over, holding your hand to your leg, and when you looked up, your eyes were panicked.

"I cut myself when I was shaving," you said, voice small. "I'm sorry. I tried not to get blood on anything and I shouldn't have-"

"It's okay," he cut you off, disappearing into the bathroom and retrieving a band-aid from the cabinet, wetting one of his maroon washcloths before he went back to you. "Here."

You took the cloth, pressing it to the affected area and wincing a bit. Coriolanus sat with you on the bench, keeping about a foot of distance.

The towel was low on your chest, nearly exposing the tops of your breasts. Similarly, it hardly covered the tops of your thighs. More skin than likely anyone had ever seen from you. You hardly seemed concerned about it, brow knit over something trivial.

"I'm sorry," you repeated, looking up at him. He passed you the band-aid, and you very carefully peeled back the washcloth, and smoothed the sticky fabric over your skin.

"It's okay," he promised, a sense of familiarity washing over him that he wished he could shake off. "You're okay." Your wet hair was clinging to your shoulders, and it was easier to see the trimming you'd gotten in the department store.

He had to get out of there. "I'll be in the other room."

There was something about you that weakened him. That much was clear. Maybe he could back out of the deal, leave you with this one day of shopping and an awkward moment after you used his shower and go back to normal. Ignoring each other.

When you weren't wearing your glasses, he could see how pretty your eyes were. He inhaled sharply, swallowing and tapping a finger on the table. Back out. Definitely back out. This wasn't a good idea.

When you emerged from his bedroom, he had a speech prepared, but it all flew from his mind when he saw you fresh-faced and clean in your new sweater and skirt. You smiled, turning around and showing him the back. "Good?"

You inched closer, and he almost felt like he could see the difference. Some of the stress in your face had melted away, making you look younger almost. Between that and the clothes, you looked...pretty.

He stood, torn pieces of what he had been about to say coming back. "Good." Anything else he was about to say died on his lips when he inhaled, catching the scent of your perfume.

Roses. Coriolanus clenched his jaw.

Maybe he could manage to see this through.

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thanosscross · 2 days ago

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My Darling - Choi Seung Hyun/T.O.P x reader part 3

Summary: After weeks of thinking of ways to wrap up your tour, your boyfriend has the perfect idea, making your last show for tour a lot more memorable and less stressful

Warnings: None

Life couldn't be any better for you and your boyfriend, you hadn't fully made it official, but you and Seung Hyun agreed to stay committed to each other, which you were both fine with. As the months passed, so did your tour dates, getting closer and closer to your last show which started to weigh on you.

"Jagi..What's going on?" Seung Hyun asked as he walked into your shared home, you were only home for a few days before you had to leave again, so your boyfriend tried his best to be as present as possible while still keeping to his schedule "I can't think of anything for my last show! I need something big but I can't think of anything other than releasing the song we made, but I don't want everybody to think there's gonna be another album before the end of tour" You frowned looking at the spread of screens in front of you tiredly massaging your temples. Seung Hyun thought after that up until the day you had to leave, smiling at you with his adorable smile as he waited for you at the door "What're you doing?" You laughed raising your eyebrow at him "I was thinking... You know..You've really been helping me rebuild my reputation..And you're always there to make sure the critics aren't too harsh..so what if for your last show, we both release our single" He offered, you furrowed your eyebrows dropping your bags "Seriously? Seung Hyun, if you're serious that's amazing you feel ready again!" You cheered hugging him tightly "As long as I have you, I've got this" He smiled softly "So, I've got everything packed, lil guy is with your sister so he's being taken care of in doggy paradise, we are free to tour the road" He smiled, picking your bags up taking them to the car that was outside waiting, Seung Hyun smiled at your body guard nodding "Good morning" He smiled, happy to be able to see you more.

Rehearsal was hard on you, you weren't expecting your award shows performances to be demanding, and yet you were more worn out than you had ever been. Looking at the clock you groaned, only twenty minutes before you had to be back on stage to do it all for real. Looking towards backstage you offered your poor boyfriend a sad smile, feeling bad he had to sit back and watch you work for the next two shows.

They flew by rather quickly, leaving you in your hotel room the night before your last show, pacing the hotel floor nervous about every possible outcome, your boyfriend almost mimicking your behavior with his own worries. You jumped as you heard shouting and your body guard slide into the room holding the door shut "M-Ma'am, do you know a Ji-Yong, or G-Dragon? He says he knows the both of you" He asked, you tilted your head looking at Seung Hyun, watching his expression change through different emotions "Yea let him in" You replied resting a hand on Seung Hyun's chest as a form of comfort "Seung Hyun!" Ji-Yong shouted rushing in "Is it true? Are you really coming back to k-pop?" He asked rushing to his friend "He's not sure, we're taking it slow" You smiled softly extending your hand sweetly "Y/n l/n" You offered, he smiled stopping to shake your hand "it's so nice to meet you! I'm Ji-Yong, Seung Hyun's friend" He introduced, you shook his hand gently, glancing back to Seung Hyun "Y-Yea, Y/n's been a huge help with trying to restore my name back home" He explained nervously, you smiled, letting the two talk and catch up while you went to do you pre-show routine. Hearing your call you quickly moved to your mark on stage taking a deep breath as you started the show.

It'd be a full hour before Seung Hyun finally got his call, you stood in the center of the stage panting trying to catch your breath from the last show as the crowd slowly quieted down you lifted the microphone up "This next part..I know it will be hard, But I need you to contain yourselves, because he's-" As soon as the pronoun left your mouth the crowd erupted again, you nerves vanishing whenever you heard Seung's chuckle in your ear piece, knowing he was getting his microphone and ear pieces hooked up you knew you had to be quick. "-He's a little nervous about this, but we're excited to show you what we've been so busy working on.." You smirked turning around to face the entry and exit to the stage along with the giant big screen that was currently showing the same entry you were watching as the intro to your song started to play. "T.o.p is back, baby!" Seung's voice played over the track, having to cover your ears for a moment from the screaming echoing off of the walls you missed Seung rushing out on stage waving as the track cut out for a moment, letting the crowd process what was going on first. As Seung Hyun snapped out of his trance he made his way to you, wrapping his arm around you leaning close "Are you okay?" He asked softly, you nodded softly smiling at him "Yea, Wasn't expecting everybody to be that loud, but what can I say, everybody loves T.O.P!" You said shouting the last part into the microphone, he just chuckled shaking his head as he got into his mark.

Preforming with you was different than it was performing with BigBang, it was less people on stage, all of the attention was just on you and him, it was scary but at the same time he missed the feeling so bad, and as of right now, everybody seemed happy he was there. As Seung Hyun started his verse you made sure to circle around him, dancing overdramatically to his lyrics, along with adding in random back up vocals, your only goal was to make sure everybody had fun during the show, including Seung Hyun. He quickly turned his body to started moving towards you as you started to rap with him, staring him down as you both went faster and faster before you ended up stumbling over your words laughing loudly. You were quick to realize you wouldn't be able to end the show so soon after bringing Seung Hyun out, so of course you encouraged him to perform some of his songs with you, knowing both you and the fans would love it.

As Zutter started to play, you gasped sprinting across the stage, watching your boyfriend playfully hump the air to the lyrics "T.o.p! We are a PG show!" You giggled into the microphone, He just raised his microphone up making direct eye contact "Sorry, Jegi" He smiled, you just blushed running off to the other side of him "continue on! But PG!" You laughed, watching him from your spot as he preformed, almost like it was second nature to him, Seung Hyun always make sure to occasionally make eye contact with you as a silent way of letting you know he was okay. You watched him preform quietly until the final song started to play, Knock out, your eyes shot over to him as the crowd screamed loudly as you raised your microphone starting to rap Ji-Yong's verse, even making an effort to spot him out to get him to help him finish the verse off. As Seung Hyun finished his part of the chorus you both stood next to each other, laughing as you matched each others movements as you sang Ji-yong's double double combo part. As Seung Hyun started again, you followed him down the stage, mimicking his movements, freezing anytime he looked back, as the song approached its end, you and Seung Hyun partnered up to finish the last verse. As you finished the last word and went to strike a pose with Seung Hyun, he had already beat you to it, pulling you back to your platform that lowered you back underneath the stage to the backstage area, before cupping your cheek before raising the microphone up one last time "T.O.P, baby" he whispered before pressing his lips to yours, you giggled as the platform lowered and the crowd screamed loudly. Once you were under the stage and your microphones were off you looked at Seung Hyun squealing "That was so fun!" You giggled hugging him tightly "Thank you" He whispered, hugging you back gently "For what?" you asked, he just shook his head "Helping me so much..for seeing I'm still a person beyond my past mistakes" He whispered, holding your hands tightly "Of course, I'll always be there for you, Seung Hyun..I promise" You smiled, pressing a soft kiss to his lips before pulling him towards to stairs to take you backstage "Now come on! I took the liberty of making us an after party!" You smiled excited, you watched his face fall "I'm sorry, baby..I just..Don't feel like going out tonight" he frowned, you just smiled pulling him to your dressing room, which was decorated slightly, the only difference being the three men sitting in your dressing room excitedly waiting for the person they saw as an older brother for so long.

"What's this?" He asked cluelessly, you just shook your head "I figured, your comeback is a big thing, and the only family you really talked about celebrating with after shows was the boys, and your sisters family..So..Your sister can't make it till tomorrow night, so You'll get a night with the boys, and a weekend with all of your family" You smiled, turning to face him, Seung Hyun just hugged you tightly, trying to hide his tears, just in the few months you had been together, you had done so much for him, in his own interest, not your own, and it was one of the reasons he was starting to fall in love with you.

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vidavalor · 2 days ago

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<<I looked up the etymology>>

*blush* You can't say these things to me when we're in public. 😂

<<And so our loops connect again with "Every Day.">>

Very true! The focus on mornings in S2 in the "Everyday" of S2 was also interesting to me. The first few episodes all begin with like "here we are again with Aziraphale trying to deal with his same daily round of these weird, lonely mornings" and The Final 15 is like welcome to the worst Friday morning that has ever existed lol. I guess my point is that the cycle of time is a thing during the week we're watching with things around everyday and the same daily round, etc. and that also shows us Aziraphale's diary.

Dawn is difficult for him because new days are micro-versions of the new dawn he feels stuck in trying to figure out how to start. He faces them alone because part of that new dawn would be figuring out how to make it so he can breakfast with that one, particular demon without them getting killed.

Diary and journal do seem to be quite a bit interconnected with some overlapping roots and connected words tied to daily/the dawn/daybreak, etc.. The PIE root dyeu is it a bit more the sky and heaven than technically God-- I know that, in some minds, those are the same things, but I think there might be a difference in meaning with relation to Good Omens. There's a disconnect between the awesome Voice of God who has been chatting with us and the evilness of the Heaven we've been watching.

There's also plenty of blasphemous wordplay throughout where characters are referring to those they love in different ways using terminology related to God or religious figures. With Crowley and Aziraphale, it's obviously deliciously dirty but, in the more general and innocent and direct paralleling plotline with the kids in S1, it's also just using the most famous palindrome word in the English language:

Dog, backwards, is God. The kid's gonna be alright. 😉

The ties between sky and heaven and the word diary does make Aziraphale choosing that word to call his record of his life on Earth a lot of fun. I've found that the words sky and heaven overlap in their etymologies as well because the sky is basically space but, as we know, space has always been where people thought the angels and the gods and such lived. It's something that makes me smile about Aziraphale writing in Demon's Guide that Baraqiel (Crowley) is the "Angel of The Sky."

It's true on a few levels. It's dry, since Crowley's a fallen angel who, like the other demons, was originally an angel of Heaven. It's also a nod to sky being space-- Crowley as the angel who made the stars. And the sky being an ancient way to refer to heaven... and heaven then becoming human figurative language for paradise? It then also seems to make it something of a C&A version of Gabriel's 'Beezlebub is my Heaven' moment. 😊

So, Aziraphale arrived in Edinburgh with a briefcase we never see him open and a hat that reads, among other things, "PRESS 66" on it, right?

And we might think that these are just Aziraphale's journalist cosplaying accessories but I think there are some hints that there's a bit more going on here than we might think-- all of it very relevant to The Finale.

We think that Aziraphale's arrival in Edinburgh is the first time that we see these things but, in true Good Omens form, the hat and briefcase are both actually glimpsed in a prior scene... rather significantly placed in that earlier scene, even.

Here they are, sitting together, the hat atop the briefcase, both in front of Jimbriel's once Fly-containing box, beside/behind the memory-wiped Muriel, in the scene below:

So, as Muriel is sitting there, not remembering Aziraphale, and as Aziraphale is sitting there, remembering Muriel and thinking all the things about the fact that they don't remember him at all? In the shot between them is the box into which Jim put his memory and brought it to Crowley and Aziraphale for safe keeping. In front of that box? Is Aziraphale's press hat and briefcase, seemingly drawing some connections between the journalist accessories and the memory plots in S2. Hmm...

What this scene also shows is that Aziraphale didn't just magic this stuff up as props when he arrived in Scotland. Even though we didn't see them in the car on the way up, they were there on the passenger seat for him to retrieve upon his arrival. He brought them with him from the shop. He packed them overnight and they were there, all ready to go, prior to Muriel's arrival, which coincided with Crowley coming over and moving the plants out of the car because Aziraphale planned to take it to Scotland. Why does this matter?

Because it might signal that there's more to the briefcase and the hat with its press credentials than we might initially suspect.

I think it would be safe to say that Aziraphale, by this point in the story, would be concerned that his memories were in danger.

He knows he's always been on a collision course with falling and this is all escalating pretty quickly in S2 in the two days prior to Aziraphale packing this press stuff and taking the car. Gabriel was The Supreme Archangel and he couldn't remember who he was and the archangels had shown up to threaten them and say that they're going to be spying on him even more closely, sending another angel to bug them the next day... the memory-wiped Muriel being quite an interesting choice, as that's sending quite a threatening message. Aziraphale also had roped Maggie and Nina into this and he knew he was likely going to have a confrontation with Heaven and Hell coming.

One of the first things he'd be concerned about would be his memories, right? and it's here where we can mention what we later learn about what Heaven can and cannot do regarding those memories... things that are new to us but that Aziraphale likely would have already known and factored into his plan, as we'll see.

Hints are given to this all season via Gabriel but it really becomes overt in this scene here:

This scene proves that Gabriel's memories aren't just in The Fly in S2-- they're also still in his mind. His memories are shown to be in two places at once. Gabriel's memories-- ones even directly related to the trauma he underwent-- actually began to come back before The Fly, in this scene. Gabriel felt safe and like he was talking with someone who could understand in this scene with Crowley so the memories began to come back for him.

The point here is that this scene shows that, when Gabriel "took his memories out" and put them into The Fly, what he was really doing was basically backing them up. He "uploaded" his memories into The Fly for safekeeping so he could retrieve them later, as a way to keep it so that they wouldn't be erased forever, but those same memories are still also on the "hard drive" of his mind. They were just mostly inaccessible to him for almost all of S2 because of trauma.

Before you say well, Gabriel might be a special case because he took his own memories out to avoid Heaven attacking him? Consider that Crowley didn't have a chance to do that-- but he tells Gabriel he knows how Gabriel feels.

Crowley has had the same experiences with his own memories. He's been able to bring some back at different times, without a lot of context, but a lot remains blocked. Crowley saying that he's been able to retrieve some memories means that those memories are still there in his mind, just very painful and difficult to access.

The idea might be that their memory loss is actually trauma-blocking. If Crowley's situation has the same effect as Gabriel's, it suggests that Heaven can't actually take people's memories-- they can only block them.

This would then be suggesting, as a lot in S2 did, that Gabriel didn't develop retrograde amnesia from taking his memories out-- he developed amnesia from the trauma he underwent.

When he felt safe enough to confront some of that trauma, the memories started to come back to him a bit.

What does this have to do with Aziraphale's briefcase, you ask?

It is connected because Gabriel's memory loss being from the trauma of Heaven trying to kill him, not from putting his memories into The Fly, proves that an angel could take his out their memories and not get amnesia from doing so.

Gabriel's story is showing that they could take out their memories whenever they want and still retain those memories also in their minds and be perfectly fine.

It's showing that Aziraphale could have backed up his memories in S2 without experiencing memory loss-- and the press hat and the briefcase are tied to just how he might have done that.

Aziraphale might have taken one look at Gabriel and his memory situation and the archangels circling the shop and thought that it would be a good idea to backup his memories and store them somewhere safe for if this all went pear-shaped.

What's interesting is that then, in a parallel shot to Aziraphale arriving in Edinburgh, we have this later scene when Aziraphale returns to London... note what's missing:

We see him park by the suit shop-- but no suitcase/briefcase this time. No hat. He's also taken off the raincoat. We never see them again for the rest of the season but we see a whole bunch of scenes that hint at where they are and why Aziraphale has left them in that location.

In this moment, we spend a strange amount of time on watching Aziraphale get out of the car and look around, hands-free, pat The Bentley, go for a little walk for a moment...

He talks to Nina, he goes back to the bookshop and greets Crowley and gets an armful of plants. The Bentley is largely the focus of the scene with Nina as well and its moving up in a scene that involves Nina and her bicycle-- another "mad 'American' woman on a bicycle", in parallel to Anathema in S1-- recalls Aziraphale miracling a bike rack onto the boot of The Bentley to transport Anathema's bike back to Jasmine Cottage. The key to getting Anathema and her bike safely home to her cottage was the bike rack Aziraphale made happen; the key to getting him and Crowley safely to the South Downs Cottage might be what Aziraphale stashed in the trunk of the car on his trip.

Here's where we can see that scenes before and around this involving Shax and Crowley show us pretty emphatically where the briefcase and the press hat are not located in the car...

They can't be on the passenger seat as they were on the way to Edinburgh because Shax wouldn't have been able to sit there when she got into the car on the drive back from Edinburgh. They also can't be in the backseat because the scene adjacent to Aziraphale's return to London is he and Crowley loading the plants back into the backseat. Crowley would have handed him his things if they were back there.

So, we have all of these shots of Aziraphale's return that are, among other things, emphasizing that the hat, the raincoat, and the briefcase are all not things he's taking out of The Bentley's trunk upon his return, even if they are his belongings and he brought them with him from the bookshop. He's intentionally leaving them all in the Crowley's car.

Aziraphale definitely did not leave his memories in a briefcase in The Resurrectionist Pub, even though that's the last place we saw the briefcase. How do we know that?

Because let's say that we're right here and Aziraphale did put his memories into the briefcase... either into something else that he then locked into the briefcase or just into the briefcase itself. What's the one problem with this?

He locked them in there for safekeeping, right? So...

He can't just leave the briefcase for Crowley-- he also needs to leave the key to the briefcase, yes? He needs to leave the combination somewhere... but he also has to hide that combination key. The briefcase wouldn't be very safe if just anyone could figure out how to open it, right? It needs to be something only Crowley can understand.

This is why Aziraphale is not a private detective in Edinburgh but a journalist because the key is in the hat.

How does one open the locked briefcase?

Press 66. 😉

The briefcase and the hat go together because the briefcase cannot be opened without the press credentials in the hat which, in very Good Omens and Crowley & Aziraphale form, look like they're one thing but are really another when you consider alternate meanings of words. Aziraphale knows that only Crowley would see Aziraphale's hat atop that briefcase and the 'Press 66' and work out that it's how to open the briefcase.

It would also be very Good Omens to nod to famous film Macguffins and then make them actually important in Good Omens' story. While a "what's in the briefcase?" thing here is very Pulp Fiction, the film that inspired the briefcase in Pulp Fiction is 1955's atomic noir Kiss Me Deadly, which is being referenced all over the place in S2.

The scene where Aziraphale picks Shax up from the side of the road is a homage to Kiss Me Deadly's opening scene, Gabriel's memory issues and his "I am in The Fly" note is similar to part of the central mystery of that film, and Kiss Me Deadly is the origin of the popularization of the word vavoom/va-va-voom.

Like basically every other film referenced in Good Omens, it's also known for innovative use when it comes to language-- particularly, coded cinematic language, in this case. Like North by Northwest, which is referenced in both parts of 1941 so far, Kiss Me Deadly found innovative ways to get around the Hays Code to tell its story. References to The Maltese Falcon in the story are also likely in relation to that story using etymology-based language to queer code aspects of its story, in a similar way to Good Omens, but also that The Maltese Falcon itself is a bit of a MacGuffin. In Good Omens, though, it seems like they're actually winking at those by making Macguffin-alluding things actually important parts of the story.

Anyway, the biggest fan theory about what's in the briefcase in Pulp Fiction is based around the combination to the briefcase being 666 in the film and the idea is that it's Marcellus Wallace's soul, which he sold to the devil. Famously, the audience never sees what's inside the briefcase. We might be saying here that the combination to Aziraphale's briefcase being 66 may be nodding to Pulp Fiction's briefcase a bit and hinting at the Satan in The Final 15 ideas. 66 is also tied to Route 66 and rock 'n roll in America, Buddy Holly, and the paralleling Gabriel & Beez flashback, maybe especially hinting at memory-related things happening with the briefcase.

I won't spoil you on what's in the briefcase in Kiss Me Deadly but let's just say that it goes along with Good Omens pretty well thematically... in a much, much darker way. The film being very bleak noir makes it very different in tone from Good Omens but the fact that the briefcase is actually is relevant to the story in the end of that film might also hint that Aziraphale's disappeared briefcase might wind up being important in The Finale, too.

Adding to this theory is also that another briefcase in The Bentley's trunk/boot was also something shown earlier in S2-- on a very significant night in Crowley & Aziraphale's history:

When Aziraphale is in Edinburgh, we see him intentionally hamming up his newspaper man persona and, in doing so, he takes the briefcase into The Resurrectionist Pub, right? Bit of foreshadowing there as to what will happen to Aziraphale and what will need to happen to bring him back?

Yes, we don't see the briefcase again after this scene but I doubt he left it in the pub because it would be useless to Crowley without the hat, on which Aziraphale has hidden the briefcase combination hidden in plain sight. Aziraphale was seen wearing the hat in one scene set after we last saw the briefcase, proving that both of them and the raincoat are in the trunk of The Bentley:

Aziraphale wore this whole get up to Edinburgh so that, if anyone was watching him, they'd think he was Muriel-like cosplaying a newspaper man. I mean... we know the trench coat is a little Columbo-esque, but why wouldn't he just be a private detective and not a journalist, if the goal was just to play a role to help solve the Gabriel mystery? Because he had to be a old movie-esque journalist so he could have the word press there in the credentials, only for its other meaning for the briefcase combination.

Aziraphale definitely had a whole other list of motivations for being the one to go to Edinburgh. He wanted Crowley to rest in the shop and to talk to Gabriel, he wanted to be the one to go tackle the mystery, and he wanted to work on his 1827 issues by going to the graveyard again... but we might find we can add to that list that he also realized it would be a good opportunity to hide his memories in a briefcase in The Bentley with actions that are right there, in plain sight of anyone who is watching-- including us 😉-- but might not be deemed suspicious.

Parallel-wise, the briefcase and The Bentley are the matchbox and the moving box and PRESS 66 is Aziraphale's equivalent to I AM IN THE FLY... all before Aziraphale and Crowley actually figured out what Gabriel and Beez did to protect Gabriel.

He's pressing on the press hat he's leaving for Mr. Six Shots of Espresso... 😂 The press card is in his hat, like a feather... Crowley's "it'd be a real feather in your cap wing" joke from the foreshadowing "I'll be damned"/"It's not so bad when you get used to it" scene in 1.01...

That demon doesn't know it yet but he's driving around with Aziraphale in the trunk because Aziraphale figured out how to get around the worst case scenario. He knew he was on a collision course with falling and he found a way to potentially dodge the memory loss by stashing his memories for Crowley in The Bentley.

His enthusiasm in Edinburgh is him barely able to contain his amusement at getting one over on anyone watching him who think they know what they're seeing but don't realize what he's actually up to.

No wonder why he was walking on air when he got back to London-- it was mission accomplished. He'd managed to leave Crowley the ability to bring him back, tucked away in the safest spot possible.

The bookseller who, like the others, is a metaphorical book/paper, left their out for Heaven and Hell trying to kill him for Crowley's safekeeping in a briefcase... the thing people use for...

...paperwork. 😂

But wait... there's one other big question, though, yes?

Why didn't Aziraphale tell Crowley this?

There absolutely was enough time and opportunity to tell Crowley he'd backed up his memories and left them in The Bentley's trunk.

The fact that this didn't come up seems wild, right, because they both know that Crowley has been having a steady anxiety attack about Heaven and Hell circling all week. We would think that, if Aziraphale had figured out this plan to circumvent that threat, the first thing he would have done would be to tell Crowley about it, yes?

Except... while I wrote this meta from the perspective of what the end result of Aziraphale's actions with the briefcase might be in The Finale, I don't actually think that was Aziraphale's own motivation for doing what he did.

Aziraphale didn't take out his memories and leave them in the briefcase in The Bentley for Crowley as a backup plan for them to elude a form of death for Aziraphale.

He left them there for Crowley to find and have after Aziraphale was already gone. Why else would Crowley need the combination on the credentials on the hat, right?

If Aziraphale had intended on his memories in the briefcase being a plan to save himself, he would have told Crowley about it so that Crowley would know. Instead, though, it's something of a suicide note. He left them for Crowley to find and have in the future.

I think The Bentley was even warning of this suicide ideation and showing concern upon the return to London for Aziraphale over what he had put in its trunk. The car is worried. [I love Good Omens-- when else am I going to type a sentence like that? 😂]

Aziraphale first parked it in front of Battye [madness] & Palm [to take]. It's a shop reflective of a lot of that depression and suicide ideation happening in Aziraphale's story and leading to his fall that I looked at in The Devil Takes The Hindmost.

The Bentley then drives itself-- and all Aziraphale's Aziraphaleness in the briefcase-- up a few feet. What is The Bentley then aligning Aziraphale with?

Death.

The car parked itself in front of the Give Me Death half of Give Me Coffee or Give Me Death...

... until Aziraphale told it to go back to where he parked it. Then, The Bentley backed up a few feet to Battye & Palm and all the madness that is the rest of the season. The car was foreshadowing the end, parking itself right along where it would be parked the last time we'd see it in S2.

The trunk is aligned with Give Me Death in The Final 15...

...fulfilling the foreshadowing of the end of S1.

#good omens #ineffable husbands #good omens meta #crowley #aziraphale #aziracrow #ineffable husbands speak #etymology

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etherealyoungk · 4 hours ago

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ramen & fate | boo seungkwan

SUMMARY: in which you meet a rich guy at the convenience store during a late night ramen run.

PAIRING: chaebol!seungkwan x reader

THEMES: strangers to lovers, meet cute kinda

WARNINGS: fluff, use of curse words

WORDCOUNT: 2.4k

A/N: @wheeboo happy birthday my love! this is a little gift from me to you! this is such a silly idea but i thought i'd write it out for you and i hope you like it <3

you walk into the convenience store and walk inside and the faint sound of pop music hums from the speakers overhead, blending with the quiet hum of the refrigerators in the back. you barely notice any of it though because your mission is clear - ramen. you really needed a ramen fix right now.

you make a beeline for the ramen aisle, the craving gnawing at you and nothing else would do now, not after the day you've had. there's a strange comfort in that little cup of noodles, in its simplicity, in the way it tastes exactly how you expected it to. your eyes scan the shelves and you spot your favourite ramen, only to find one left on the shelf. you immediately reach for it without a second thought, but so does someone else.

your fingers brush against another hand, and you pause, startled. your eyes follow the hand, trailing up a crisp white sleeve, past a perfectly tailored suit jacket, until they land on the face of the man reaching for the same cup of ramen. he’s tall so you have to tilt your head slightly to meet his gaze. his expression is cool, almost unreadable, his jawline sharp and sleek, his styled hair making him look like he just walked off the set of some corporate drama.

"oh," you say, blinking as your hand hovers over the cup.

he looks down at you, his brows lifting slightly as if in mild surprise, but he doesn’t immediately pull his hand back. "looks like we’ve got the same taste," he says, his voice smooth.

you blink at him and wrack your brain for a response before you let out a nervous laugh. "well, it is the best one", you reply as you look at him.

he smirks faintly, tilting his head. "i agree, but there’s only one left."

there’s a pause, the moment stretching out as both of you keep your hands over the cup of ramen and suddenly this feels like some sort of high-stakes negotiation situation.

"i—uh—had a long day," you say, trying to justify your claim, though you immediately feel silly for doing so. "i really need this ramen".

his smirk softens into something resembling amusement. "and you think i don’t?", he counters, raising a brow at you. "i’ve had back-to-back meetings since seven this morning", he says.

"well, i’ve been running around non-stop too", you protest, your grip on the edge of the shelf tightening. his gaze flickers between you and the ramen before he exhales, and lets out a small resigned sigh and to your surprise, he takes his hand away.

"alright," he says, stepping back slightly. "you win, take it", he says as his hand swings down. "really? thanks," you say, though your tone is cautious, like you’re not entirely sure this isn’t some kind of trick.

he gives you a small nod, then glances at his watch, grabbing a different ramen from the shelf and walking to a different aisle without sparing you another glance. you blink, a little confused but get about on your mission to get the ramen. you grab a few more stuff, some kimbap and something to drink and make your way to the cash counter when you spot the man in the suit again.

"i'm sorry sir, but i don't have change for such a big bill", you hear the worker say. "unless you buy items for that amount, i don't really have a way to give you back your change", the worker continues.

you walk front and put your stuff on the counter. "i'll pay for his stuff", you say and he looks at you.

"i've got it, i'm sure i have smaller bills somewhere", he says as he pulls out his wallet and your eyes nearly pop out with the fat wad of cash you see in it, all big bills. what the fuck. you decide to ignore what you just saw and by the time the man in the suit is digging his wallet, you've already paid for your stuff, his included.

you take your things and towards the corner of the store to cook your ramen. once the ramen is done, you take a seat and that's when the man in the suit appears again. he’s got his own ramen cup in hand, the sleeve of his tailored suit pushed up slightly to reveal an expensive looking watch. he moves methodically, peeling back the lid of his ramen cup and pouring in the hot water with a steady hand, there's no hesitation and no fumbling. he catches your gaze, and you quickly look away, suddenly very interested in your own noodles. you can feel his eyes on you for a moment, but then he goes back to his ramen, silent and composed. you sneak another glance at him and think to yourself - he is pretty handsome.

you’re halfway through your noodles, the warm broth hitting just the right spot on a cold night before you hear the shuffle of footsteps coming towards you.

"mind if i sit?" he asks, his voice smooth and you nod. he sits down with a kind of effortless grace, setting his ramen down in front of him and adjusting his sleeves like he’s dining at a michelin-star restaurant instead of a dingy convenience store. you focus on your noodles, hoping he won’t notice the way your gaze keeps flickering back to him and you watch as he stirs his ramen and takes a bite.

"you didn’t have to pay for my stuff, you know," he says after a bite, breaking the silence.

"it’s not a big deal," you reply with a shrug. "maybe you should carry smaller bills next time", you tell and you can see the faint smile on his face.

"i swear i thought i had change on me", he says, rather to himself.

"doesn’t seem like you need to worry about it," you remark before you can stop yourself. “i mean, with a wallet like that.”

his smile widens slightly, and he leans back in his chair, resting an elbow casually on the table. "appearances can be deceiving," he says, his tone teasing but with an undercurrent you can’t quite place.

you raise an eyebrow. "right, and expensive suits and fat wads of cash are just a camouflage?", you ask.

"something like that," he replies, and there’s a glimmer in his eyes now like he’s enjoying this back and forth talk, like he's amused by you.

you huff out a soft laugh as you shake your head. "well, next time you’re low on change, i suggest hitting the ATM before wandering into a convenience store", you tell and he nods.

"noted," he says, and there’s a warmth to his voice now.

"i’d like to pay you back", he says after a moment, but you shake your head.

"that's not necessary," you reply, waving a dismissive hand. "it’s just ramen", you say.

and he just looks at you, and it looks like he wants to say something more, but he settles for giving you a small smile instead. "alright, if you’re sure".

after finishing his meal, he gathers his things, straightens his perfectly tailored suit and offers you a polite, "thanks again," before leaving.

you think that’s the last you’ll see of him, until you notice something on the table, his sleek black leather wallet, the kind that practically screams expensive. your eyes widen as your hands reach out for it and you mutter under your breath.

grabbing the wallet, you flip it open and find a few crisp bills (all large denominations, of course), some credit cards and a single business card tucked inside, but there's no name, just a logo and a phone number. you hesitate for a moment before you decide to call the number, but it goes straight to voicemail.

for the next few days, you keep the wallet with you, figuring he’ll eventually call back or text or come looking for it, but nothing. it’s not until a few days later, when you’re rushing through a crowded sidewalk with a bag of groceries in one hand and your phone in the other, that fate decides to intervene. you’re trying to balance too many things at once, not paying attention to where you’re going, when you collide hard into someone coming from the opposite direction. the impact sends your phone clattering to the ground and your grocery bag spilling open. "oh, come on!" you groan, crouching to pick up your things.

"sorry about that", a familiar voice says, and you freeze mid-reach.

you glance up to see him, the ramen guy, in his perfectly tailored suit guy, crouching down to help. he looks as polished as ever, his suit immaculate despite the chaos of the street and he notices you at the same time, and his eyes widen slightly.

"you," he says, clearly surprised.

"you," you reply, just as surprised. "i've been looking for you, you left this", you say after you've gathered all your groceries and stand up. you dig into your bag and bring out his wallet, handing it over to him.

his expression shifts. "i didn’t even realize it was missing until yesterday, but by then, i figured it was gone for good", he says as he looks at you.

"well, lucky for you i found it,” you say as you hold it out for him. he takes it from you, his fingers brushing yours briefly, and his smile softens. “you have no idea how much this means, thank you", he says

"you’re welcome," you reply and he looks down at the wallet in his hand, then back at you.

“i owe you, again", he says. "let me buy you dinner, it's the least i can do, please", he asks and you blink, caught off guard.

"dinner? that's...", you trail off as you chew on your lip, considering his offer. "but you don't even know me?", you say, unsure.

"i'll take my chances", he says, a small smile playing on his lips.

“alright,” you say, nodding. “dinner sounds nice.”

the smile that spreads across his face is slow and warm, like sunlight breaking through clouds and it softens his polished, professional look, making him seem boyish almost.

"i didn't get your name", you ask.

"i'm seungkwan", he says, holding out his hand and you reach for it, shaking it, the warmth of his hand engulfing you. "yn", you say, giving him a small smile.

you both exchange numbers and you head home, and it's only then that you wonder if he'll actually follow through. and a few days later, your phone buzzes with a text from him.

ramen guy: this is seungkwan, does friday evening work for dinner? let me know what time works for you.

you reply quickly and his response comes almost immediately.

ramen guy: perfect, i’ll take care of everything, looking forward to it.

when friday arrives, you find yourself standing in front of the address he sent—a restaurant that looks like it was plucked straight from a luxury travel magazine. the building is sleek and modern, its glass walls shimmering in the golden hour light. your nerves spike as you step through the grand entrance and suddenly you're thinking that this must be some kind of joke, that he must have sent you the wrong address by mistake because holy shit, you could barely afford this place. a host greets you with a warm smile when you walk inside. “you must be here for mr. boo seungkwan” they say, their tone polite but knowing. boo seungkwan?

the person guides you towards a private dining room and it's a beautifully set table near the window that overlooks the city skyline. you spot him waiting there and he stands up the moment he spots you, a smile lighting up his face.

he was wearing an all-black suit, and it was perfect for him, tailored to perfection, the fit making him incredibly handsome and attractive and the fit made him look effortlessly sophisticated, yet there was an ease to his posture that made him seem grounded. his dark hair was styled just enough to look intentionally tousled, a few stray strands falling over his forehead. there was something about the way he carried himself, confident but not cocky, poised but not stiff. his smile was the same: genuine and unpretentious, like he wasn’t trying to impress anyone, yet somehow, in that black suit, he couldn’t help but leave an impression.

“you made it,” he says, his tone warm as he steps forward to pull out your chair for you. "yeah", you say softly, still trying to take in the posh ambience around you.

as the evening unfolds, you’re surprised by how easy he is to talk to. he’s incredibly down-to-earth and he listens intently, laughs at your jokes, and is just so sweet, a complete gentleman. his genuine interest in you, paired with his relaxed nature, made the evening feel warm and comfortable and didn't make you feel intimidated anymore.

“so, what exactly do you do?”, you ask, looking at him.

he hesitates for a moment, then shrugs lightly. “family business,” he says, clearly trying to downplay it. “it’s not that exciting.”

"so what exactly is this family business?", you ask but seungkwan only chuckles softly in response. "it's not as cool as you think. let’s just say it's a lot of paperwork, meetings, and business stuff", he makes an exaggerated motion of his hands like he was emphasizing the mundanity of it all. the date ends on a good note and he even offers to drop you home, but you decline, not wanting to impose on him anymore.

it isn’t until days later, when you’re scrolling through your phone that you stumble across an article and you realize just who he is.

heir to the boo family conglomerate, boo seungkwan spotted at his newest restaurant with someone: who’s the mystery guest?

your jaw drops as your eyes scan the article, which details his family’s massive business empire—including restaurant chains, luxury hotels, and even media companies. the photo accompanying the article shows him stepping out of the very restaurant where you had dinner with him, wearing the same outfit he had that evening, looking effortlessly handsome and polished as always.

and just then your phone buzzes with a new message from him at that exact moment:

ramen guy: i hope you enjoyed the dinner last time. let me know when you’re free again, i owe you another one.

taglist: @joshuaahong @paindivinemp3 @fallingforshua29 @itsveronicaxxx @frankenstein852

@weird-bookworm @mirxzii @naaaaafla @wheeboo @icyminghao

@lvlystars @gyubakeries @wootify @ihrtboo @n4mj00nvq

@yoozuku

#skye's writing!#caratlibrary #k-labels #seventeen imagines #seventeen fluff #seventeen scenarios #seventeen x reader #seventeen drabbles #seventeen soft hours #svt imagines #svt ff #skye thoughts #svt fluff #svt fanfic #svt scenarios #svt x reader #seungkwan imagines #seungkwan fluff #seungkwan x reader

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foone · 21 hours ago

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I need to watch more Star Trek: The Original Series. Despite, you know, everything about me, I've only actually seen like a third of it. I never was a big fan as a kid and I never went back to watch it.

The slightly embarrassing reason why I need to watch it is that I've been developing this headcanon about Bones where he's got a complex and somewhat destructive relationship with death and I honestly don't know if it's backed up by canon and I don't want to keep talking about it (in the same ways, at least) if it's not really canon-compatible.

So I wanna re-watch/watch TOS just so I can see if my Bones characterization makes any sense or if it's solidly an alternate take on the character, like "what if bones was a depressed perfectionist with substance abuse issues?"

Like, I know he's often the smilies and jokiest of the crew, but that always read as, like... "clown happiness", for lack of a better term. It's smiling and joking as an act, because you don't want to look and sound as miserable as you are.

I think McCoy is a man who wants to save everyone and despite the wonders of his future technology, he knows he can't win. No matter how many miracles he pulls off, it's just a matter of time before they come back from a mission with something he can't fix, and they die on his medibed or in his arms on a mission. This is, of course, not helped by his two closest friends being Kirk and Spock, who are always willing to die to save each other, the crew, the mission, strangers, alien rocks with laser eyes, the concept of hatred itself, whatever.

He's "happy" and "jokey" but in a M*A*S*H sense: you're saving lives but sometimes it hits a little too hard that you're saving soldiers who are just going to go back out there and get shot or blown up or whatever damn foolish way. And he drinks a lot more than he should to not have to face those facts sober. And to forget, even if only for a moment, all the faces of those he failed to save.

Spocks got an eidetic memory from his green-blooded heritage, but Bones doesn't need one to be sure he remembers that young ensign who was grabbed by a plasma macrobe and had all his red blood cells turned to dust. There's one of those every day, it seems. Different reasons, different situations, different faces dying in front of him and he never stops feeling like a failure when it happens. But he goes on, because if he gives up that'll just mean more deaths and pain and sickness.

He knows he's gonna lose this war in the end. But that's no reason to stop fighting. He drags himself to the sickbay every morning, happy and chipper, because if he doesn't do this he can't live with himself, and you've he's got to put on a good show for the patients, nurses, officers. They're counting on him, and they need his wholesome bedside manner.

But you can see it when he gets angry. How pissed he gets when people die for no reason, are sick for no reason, are denied treatment for no reason, and how much he hates all this space malarkey. His anger sounds like a man who has been hurting for a very long time and is finally letting some of it out.

#Bones #star trek tos

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ainsi-soit-il · 1 day ago

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Wanted to add a couple of things from my own experience as a Methodist who grew up Baptist on the fringes of the Bible Belt.

I've been in Protestant Churches Built From Circa 1970-2005 long enough to know that it's not an either-or between (Carpenter) Gothic Chapel and Megachurch Monstrosity. There's a lot of bizarre flavors going on for the following reasons.

In the 1970s-1980s, there was a trend of building churches with gymnasiums that could function as a fellowship hall. As an example, the church I attend now was built in the late 1970s and we have a gym that was clearly built with this in mind (There's a kitchen attached, there's an AV booth, etc.). In some cases, these gyms were built before the actual sanctuary, due to their multipurpose nature and capacity.

At least by the 2000s, this evolved into more multi-purpose sanctuaries in general, stuff that could double as a fellowship hall if need be. The church I grew up in didn't have a gym, but the sanctuary's seating was removable and the room could be divided into sections for smaller events if need be. (It was still recognizably a church, though. There was a choir loft and a baptistry and a giant wooden cross hanging on the back wall, and whatnot.

Once the sanctuary was built, the church building might be expanded on to meet the practical needs of the congregation. Most often you see additions for classroom space, for the sake of Bible studies, Sunday school classes, or Christian schools that might use the building.

These expansions might be made as the congregation is able to raise money for them, so things tend to be simpler in design, and there may not be a lot of clear rhyme or reason as to how things get placed, beyond There Was Room Here. (As you said, op, resources are a big factor here.)

As a result, there's a longstanding reality of reasonably-sized, theologically-orthodox Protestant churches with sprawling, eldritch architecture that defies reason because the building wasn't built all at once, and because the focus was upon how the building might also be used by the congregation outside of a Sunday morning.

None of that's to say I think church architecture shouldn't mean something. But for a certain genre of Hideous Protestant Church architecture, the value being communicated is serving others, or the need for church community in the Christian life, rather than strictly The Church Is A Product To Be Sold.

With that said, I feel like it's worth mentioning that by and large, these churches still have architectural features that say, This is a church, like steeples, crosses, windows, whatever. While they're weird-looking buildings, they're not afraid to signal to passersby what the primary intention for the building is.

Furthermore, the market research thing is very real. One of the points where the church I grew up in began to go downhill was when the new head pastor hired a marketing firm to "fix" the church and to give it more mass appeal... which inevitably involved getting rid of any architectural features that suggested this was a church. Looking at pictures of the inside of it now, it's basically unrecognizable as a place of worship. It looks more like a concert venue than anything else. And I think that, regardless of where you fall on how ornate a church should be, is cause for concern.

Setting aside issues like the practical needs for space, or the finances to afford constructing/renovating a building in the first place, why is there such apprehension about church buildings that suggest who we worship and why we gather? What does that say about how we might feel about Jesus?

Roman Catholics and Orthodox have got to knock it off with "Protestants have brutalist corporate churches". A particular modern strain of Protestantism has hideous modern churches. It's a depressingly common strain, and arguably the dominant one in America, but it's either ignorant or dishonest to pretend as though all Protestants have ugly churches.

Behold:

Clockwise from top left:

St. Peter's Church, Geneva, canton of Geneva, Switzerland (Swiss Reformed)

Barnes Methodist Church, London, England, UK (Methodist)

Dutch Reformed Church, Newbury, New York state, USA (Dutch Reformed)

St. Jude's Church, Glasgow, Scotland, UK (Presbyterian)

#not trying to derail anything that's been said whatsoever; i hope it doesn't come across that way #tbh my experience of reading this post was:#'[sees that op recognizes the nuances of protestant church architecture] finally some good freakin' food'#i could go on about my experiences with bizarre protestant church architecture all day but this ain't about that #but i would love to ramble about it if asked #christianity tag #general protestantism tag #sacramental theology #(kinda sorta)#religious art tag

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x1un4rx · 3 days ago

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| A Night to Remember | (No Outbreak) |

Pairings: Bf!Joel Miller x Fem!Reader

Summary: A quiet night out with Joel turns into a meaningful and intimate experience for the reader. After a cozy dinner, the two of them escape to a peaceful spot to stargaze, enjoying each other’s company. It’s a night of connection, comfort, and a little bit of unexpected tension, all under the stars.

Warnings: mild language, fluff, jealousy, mild possessiveness, light romance.

A/N: I had fun (also suffered) writing this one! I wanted to make it sweet, soft, and a little steamy—because who doesn’t love a little romance, right? Hope you enjoyed reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it. Let me know what you think! <3 (I didn't proof-read this properly, so apologies if something sounds weird/doesn't make sense.)

Word Count: 2,8k+

Credits: @cafekitsune for the lovely dividers <33

(edit: I made changes with the dividers. Also for future references that I've forgotten to clarify, please don't reblog my work as I always edit it, thank you. I have now added it.)

The house was unusually quiet tonight. No sounds of Ellie barging through the door with her usual energy, no music playing from her room, no chaos over something small that you both would inevitably laugh about later. It was just the two of you, alone for the evening, and it felt like a luxury. Sarah was in college now, juggling her studies and figuring out life away from home and Ellie was at a friend’s house for the night—a sleepover, her first in weeks, and the quiet was strangely comforting.

You were standing in front of the mirror in the bathroom, adjusting your hair for the third time. It wasn’t a special occasion or anything—just a romantic dinner date with Joel. But you’d been looking forward to it, especially after the week you’d both had. You were used to the small moments with him—the late-night talks, the quiet mornings—but tonight, you wanted to feel a little more… put together. The soft fabric of your dress hugged your figure just enough, nothing flashy, but enough to make you feel good about yourself. You didn’t need anything extravagant to remind you of how far you’d come with Joel. But maybe, just maybe, tonight felt different.

You caught your reflection in the mirror for a second too long and realized you were smiling at yourself. You could hear Joel’s low, familiar voice from behind the door.

“Everything alright in there?”

You rolled your eyes, still trying to get the perfect look. “Yeah, I’m fine. Just making sure I don’t look like a disaster.”

Joel’s chuckle came through the door, warm and teasing. “You can’t not look good, babe.”

You felt a smile tug at your lips. That’s Joel. The man who knew exactly how to make you feel like the most beautiful person in the room—even when you weren’t trying. His words were like a secret confidence boost you never asked for but always appreciated.

You gave up trying to get your hair perfect and called out to him. “You’re lucky you’re cute, Miller.”

There was another soft knock on the door, followed by the sound of the door creaking open. Joel’s face appeared, and you immediately had to suppress a laugh. There he was, looking like he’d just stepped out of a magazine. His jeans were perfectly worn in, his shirt a little more pressed than usual, sleeves rolled up, showcasing his forearms—those strong, calloused hands that always made you feel safe.

“You still gonna be in there forever, or what?” Joel grinned, crossing his arms, leaning against the doorframe with that cocky, laid-back expression you loved so much. “I was startin’ to think you were gonna leave me hangin’.”

You raised an eyebrow, eyes scanning him up and down. “Dramatic much?”

Joel smirked, pushing off the doorframe and stepping inside. His eyes didn’t leave you for a second. He always had this way of looking at you like you were the only thing in the room. It wasn’t like he had to try—it just happened.

“Yeah, yeah. Dramatic. You ready yet, or am I gonna have to keep waitin’ for you?” he asked, moving closer, wrapping him arms around your waist and his head on your shoulder, breathing on your neck.

You felt your chest flutter, and despite the teasing in his tone, you could tell there was something softer in his eyes. Something different tonight. He reached out, gently brushing a strand of hair behind your ear.

“You always know how to make everything look effortless, don’t you?” His voice was lower now, more sincere than teasing.

You laughed softly, feeling your cheeks heat up. “You’re just saying that.” Joel looked at you through the mirror, looking at you in utterly disbelief. "I would never lie to you, my love."

Joel then pulled away from you and just smiled, a quiet, affectionate smile, before extending his hand. “C’mon, let’s get outta here before I forget we actually have a reservation.”

The drive to the restaurant was easy, comfortable. The quiet between you was never awkward—just the gentle hum of the engine and the music playing softly on the radio, songs that you both recognized. You didn’t need to fill the silence with anything more.

But when you pulled up outside the restaurant, a new energy seemed to shift. Joel straightened in his seat, his fingers drumming absentmindedly on the steering wheel. It wasn’t just a dinner to him. He had been planning this for awhile, putting in the effort, and you could feel the anticipation coming off of him in waves.

“Ready?” he asked, eyes glinting as he turned to look at you.

You met his gaze, that familiar warmth spreading through your chest. He didn’t just ask if you were ready for the evening. He was asking if you were ready for the next few hours—just the two of you, away from everything.

He always had a way of making everything else disappear.

“I’m ready,” you said, leaning over and pressing a kiss against his cheek. It wasn’t big or showy—just a quiet, simple gesture—but you saw the way his grin grew in response.

“You’re too good lookin’,” Joel said, "You sure you don't want me to start the truck again, head home and have fun in bed instead?" his voice laced with fondness and teasingness.

You gave him a look, "No love, let's go have a lovely dinner, instead of being cooped up at home and eating leftovers."

He held your hand as soon as you both climbed out of the truck, keeping you close to him as you made your way toward the restaurant. There was a quiet protectiveness in the way he kept his hand around yours, like he didn’t want to let go, even for a second.

You raised an eyebrow, glancing at him. “You gonna hold my hand the whole night, or what?”

Joel flashed you an exaggerated pout, that teasing look never leaving his face. “What can I say? You’re way too good lookin’ to let go. Gotta keep you close just in case.”

You laughed softly, the warmth of his touch grounding you. You could tell that tonight—tonight, he wasn’t just the guy who looked out for you. He was all in, fully present, and it made your heart beat a little faster than usual.

Dinner passed in a blur of delicious food and even better conversation. Joel was as charming as ever, effortlessly making you laugh with his lovely, dry humor and his little sarcastic remarks. But it wasn’t just the jokes—it was the way he’d lean in a little closer when he spoke, the way his hand brushed against yours under the table, the quiet glances that spoke volumes more than words could.

It was comfortable, easy. The kind of night that made you feel like you were the only two people who mattered in the world.

And then, just as dessert was being served, Joel excused himself to the bathroom. You were left to your own thoughts for a moment, the buzz of the restaurant fading into the background.

That’s when the guy, whom seemed like he was from the bar across the road due to his wobbly footing, was walking up to you, had caught your eye.

Your not in the mood for this. You wanted a lovely dinner with your man, but this guy had to rock up... amazing.

“Hey, beautiful. Can I sit with you?” His voice was too smooth, too confident. He leaned against the edge of your table, his body angled just a little too close.

"I saw you from the bar across the road, thought I might take a chance with a pretty girl like you." He said, eyeing you up and down. You shifted uncomfortably in your seat.

You blinked, taken off guard. “Uh, I’m waiting for someone,” you said, trying to keep your voice steady.

The guy didn’t move, just smiled, and leaned in a little more. “Oh, come onn, we could share a drink or something. I’m sure the bloke you came with won’t mind.”

You raised an eyebrow, more uncomfortable now. “No, really. I’m fine.”

But he didn’t back off. He just kept smiling like it was all a joke, a game. “You sure? I think you’re missing your chance here pretty, you positive you wouldn't want a drink with lil' ol' me?” This man was gradually becoming more disgusting and annoying by the millisecond.

Your patience was wearing thin, and you didn’t want to make a scene, but his persistence was starting to piss you off. Just as you were about to speak again, you saw Joel coming back from the bathroom.

You felt the relief flood through you, but it was short-lived. Joel’s eyes scanned the room, landing on the guy standing far too close to you. He didn’t hesitate for a second.

“Everything okay here?” Joel’s voice was low, calm, but you could see the shift in his body, the protective stance he was taking.

The guy hesitated for a moment, his smirk faltering. He clearly hadn’t expected Joel to show up so quickly, and when he saw the way Joel was looking at him—there was no mistaking the intent. Joel wasn’t backing down.

“Yeah, yeah, no problem,” the guy muttered, giving you a final look before retreating.

Joel didn’t take his eyes off the guy until he was out of sight. Then, he turned to you, his expression softening as he reached for your hand.

“You okay? Did he do anything to you darlin'? ” His voice was quieter now, almost apologetic. He was the kind of guy who didn’t like confrontation, but when it came to you? He’d do anything to make sure you felt safe.

You smiled at him, grateful. “Yeah, just didn’t know what to do. Thanks for stepping in hun.”

Joel squeezed your hand, his thumb gently brushing against your skin. “Ain’t no one gonna mess with you when I’m around, sweetheart.”

After dinner, Joel’s truck rumbled down the quiet road, the noise of the city faded into the background, it was like stepping into another world altogether. The quiet of the woods wrapped around you like a blanket—peaceful, uninterrupted. Just the sound of your breaths and the rustle of leaves in the distance.

The air was cool, carrying the fresh scent of earth and pine, the kind of crisp evening breeze that settled into your bones, making everything feel clean and new. When Joel finally pulled off the main road, heading into a small, secluded patch of woods, you couldn’t help but feel your heart beat a little faster. There was something about the stillness of nature that always made you feel both small and incredibly alive, especially with Joel beside you.

He parked the truck at the edge of a grassy hill, surrounded by nothing but open land and a sky full of stars. It was perfect—just like he’d planned.

You stepped out of the truck, inhaling the cool air deeply, letting it fill your lungs. The night seemed to expand in every direction, endless and vast. You walked a few paces away, and then, for a moment, you simply stopped and tilted your head back. The sky was so clear, so wide, that it took your breath away. The stars shone like diamonds scattered across a velvet canvas, each one brighter and closer than you’d ever seen in the city.

You could see the Milky Way, a faint but beautiful streak across the sky, and the constellations you’d learned about as a kid suddenly seemed more real, more tangible. There was something magical about being here, so far from everything else. The stars felt almost like they were there just for you, like they were a secret shared only between you and the universe.

Joel’s voice broke through your thoughts, warm and close. “You alright?”

You turned toward him and smiled, already knowing he was watching you with that soft, caring expression. The kind that made you feel like you were the only person who mattered in the world to him. "Yeah, just... it’s amazing out here."

Joel chuckled lightly, walking over to you and placing a hand on your back, guiding you to the blanket he’d set out on the grass. “I thought you might like it,” he said, that grin of his tugging at the corners of his mouth. "You did mention it when we first met." You looked at him, smiling slightly. "You remembered it?" You were surprised he remembered something from 3 years ago.

You sat down on the blanket, and Joel followed, stretching out beside you. His hand brushed against yours, fingers intertwining, his warmth against your side, a steady presence that grounded you. You both lay back, the sky opening up above you, vast and endless, and for a moment, it was like everything else melted away. The truck, the world, everything. It was just the two of you, the stars, and the cool night air.

As you settled in, your head found its place against his shoulder, the steady rhythm of his breathing lulling you into a peaceful calm. Joel’s arm draped casually over your body, his fingers lightly brushing the skin of your arm, as if he wanted to be as close to you as possible without even trying. You could feel the gentle pulse of his heartbeat beneath the fabric of his shirt. It was a familiar sound, comforting and safe, and you let yourself sink into it.

“The stars look different out here,” Joel said, his voice a soft rasp in the stillness, like he was marveling at the view for the first time too. "They look...prettier."

You smiled, your eyes tracing the patterns above you. “Yeah,” you said, your voice quiet, almost in awe. “They’re... more alive. Like you can actually see them, y’know? The way they’re all scattered across the sky, like the universe just decided to let us in on its secret.”

Joel let out a soft hum of agreement, his fingers tracing lazy circles on your arm. “Guess there’s a whole lot more out there than we ever see, huh?”

You nodded, unable to look away from the stars. “It’s... it’s incredible. Sometimes I forget how big the world is, how much of it we don’t even know about.”

For a long time, neither of you spoke. There was something peaceful about that silence, a comfortable kind of quiet that wasn’t awkward but full of understanding. Just the gentle rustle of the grass beneath you, the breeze moving the trees in the distance, and the faint hum of insects.

“I used to come out here a lot,” you murmured, your voice soft but steady, as if the night made you want to share more than you usually did. “When things were rough, I’d just lie on my back and look up at the stars. It always made me feel like... like I wasn’t as alone as I thought I was.”

Joel’s fingers paused in their movement, and you could feel him turn his head toward you, his gaze soft in the darkness. “You were never alone darlin',” he said quietly, his voice firm but gentle, like he wanted to reassure you that you were never carrying the weight of the world by yourself.

You met his gaze, finding the sincerity in his eyes. It made your heart skip a beat.

“Yeah, but... it’s different now,” you whispered. “I have you. And I’m not just looking at the stars alone anymore.”

Joel smiled at that, a little crooked grin that made your chest feel warm. “Well, we got a hell of a view tonight, don’t we?” He nudged you gently with his elbow, his voice laced with affection.

You laughed softly, leaning closer to him, your fingers brushing his again. “We do. It’s perfect.”

His arm tightened around you slightly, pulling you just a little closer, as if he couldn’t help himself. “Yeah… it’s just right.” His voice dropped, almost to a whisper, like he was speaking to you alone, like the night itself was a secret between just the two of you. “Just us. Right here.”

You nestled your head a little deeper into his shoulder, feeling the warmth of his body against yours and the steady, comforting beat of his heart. The stars seemed to shine even brighter when you thought about how far you’d come, how much you’d shared and how much more you still had ahead of you.

For a few moments, you let yourself drift, your eyes closed, breathing in the night air. You didn’t need words. You didn’t need anything more than this—the quiet company of someone who understood you, the peaceful presence of the stars above, and the promise that no matter what, you’d always have this moment to hold on to.

In that moment, it wasn’t just about the stars or the quiet, but about everything that had led up to this. How far you’d come. How much you had, just right here, with him.

- lunar <3

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heartbeat-eras · 3 days ago

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Changing Gears

I was chatting to buddy about how they feel when their meds kick in and if they notice the change in their heart as they start to work. When mine kick in I rarely notice the physiological changes and only the cognitive ones when tasks become easier to just do. They commented about the moment that they notice their heart "changes gears". Switches from cruising to "it's time to work now", like an automatic car dropping to a lower gear to take off faster. The thing is I never notice it because I'm usually doing something and my focus is elsewhere.

I commented on how I've really wanted a moment where she's monitored through the whole med process - from resting to actively working. When you take extended release meds however, that can be anywhere up to 1 - 2 hours for them to hit. I kinda imagined a morning laying on the couch, a buddy using my chest as pillow as we lazily watch tv.. them commenting on the changes in her beats and rhythm as the meds started to work more and more (because who can handle a steth in their ears for that long?).

While I was thinking about this I noticed that I could feel my heart beating a bit faster... pounding a bit harder.... So I pulled out the steth to check. She was definitely a lot more forceful, throwing harder beats here and there as she tried to work out her rhythm. I decided to record her too.. first 10 mins.. then 20... and all of sudden she had been beating away for almost 30 mins.. well at that point we just needed to keep going right?

So here we are.. The recording was started 30 mins after my meds were taken up the 1 hour mark. Can you hear her as she changes gears for the day?

Steth - Champagne Classic

Location - Erbs

#cardiophile #cardiophilia #female heartbeat #heartbeat #beating heart #self stething #pounding heart #stethoscope #heartbeats

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knight-a3 · 2 days ago

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Hazbin Hotel Sketchbook 2: Part 2

Masterpost

Morningstars

I will have some design notes under the cut, so stay tuned.

Charlie and Lilith's snakes are all named.

Notes under the cut to minimize clutter. I'll try to keep it brief since I've talked about a lot of this before, and plan to go into more detail in dedicated character posts later.

Between dolls, snakes, apples, circuses, ducks, etc, there were just too many motifs/thematic elements to shove onto just Lucifer. So, I streamlined and distributed. Lucifer is goat themed, Lilith is snake themed. Charlie is a mix of the two. I also use this to partly to imply that "the Devil" is not solely Lucifer. But humans mistake various different demons as one character.

Charlie:

Her goat traits were inherited from Lucifer. Hooves, ears, etc. Also the tail. Her hair is designed to look like a goat tail.

Snake traits were inherited from Lilith. Vertically slitted eyes, hair snake, etc. Also doll cheeks and pale skin.

I had considered having her hair be totally made of snakes like Medusa, but that seemed annoying to draw, so I just did one. His name is Hugh, short for Hubris, which is a synonym for pride.

Lucifer:

He has far too many motifs in general. He needed streamlining.

Apples- I reduced this because I think it would be more fitting for Adam and Eve. Eve as the first to eat the fruit, and Adam because... Adam's apple, I guess.

Doll- I know Charlie is meant to resemble a porcelain doll. And in-universe gets it from her dad. But I don't really understand why, so I took it away from him and gave it to Lilith.

King- He does not have any real authority. It's a prison, and even Lucifer is caged. Nobody bothers to respect him. So the "crown" on his hat resembles a gate or cell bars

Ducks- I never understood the choice to associate Lucifer with ducks. And thematically, I can't really justify it. So...um... sorry, but no rubber duckies.

Goat- From what I understand, goats as a demonic symbol comes more from pagan influences rather than the Bible. Overall, Lucifer is a goat because he's been assigned the blame for all the evil in the world. He's the scapegoat. Placing sin on Scapegoats was a Jewish practice during Yom Kipper.

Lightbringer- the word lucifer is used once in some translations of the Bible to describe the arrogance of the King of Babylon in the book of Isaiah, but not as a name. Instead of directly translating the Hebrew word that meant "light bringer," "morning star," "dawn bringer," or "shining one," the Latin term was used. Lucifer often referred to the "star" that is the planet we now call Venus. It would be used to represent pride because it rose and fell before the sun. So the instance of lucifer in the Bible isn't even used as a name, and didn't even refer to the Devil. I say all this because I think it fits the scapegoat theme, and it's why I put a star on his tail.

Wings- Seraphim are described as having 3 sets of wings. Rather than deal with all that or even try to figure out the anatomy of that, I just gave them three sets of primary feathers, which sort of imitates the 6-winged look but is easier for me to draw.

Speaking of his wings. He lost them when he fell. So he does not have wings at all anymore. If he did, they'd be more like dragon wings.

Lilith:

Lilith is not a biblical figure. The word lilith was used once in just some English translations of the Bible. And it's referring to a type of demon, and not used as a name. Other translations change the term to shriek-hawk or similar terms, and is listed with various other night creatures. Lilith as a character appeared in Jewish lore, and was likely satirical. But away from theology and onto hazbin lore...

Because Lilith was originally created as a wife for Adam, she felt treated like an object or plaything rather than a person. So when she fell, she picked up a little bit of a doll motif that isn't prominent in these drawings. I essentially traded the doll features instead of horns. I'm still workshopping specifics.

She was just as involved(if not more so) with offering the fruit to Eve. Thus, she gets the motif of the snake. I didn't want to make her hair entirely snakes, because the long flowing hair seemed like a prominent design feature for her. So I opted to give her 7 hair snakes, one to represent each deadly sin/ring of hell. They're all named.

Pride= Vani (Vanity), she's the one on the top of her head.

Greed= Ava (Avarice)

Lust= Libby (Libido)

Envy= Desi (Desire)

Gluttony= Tony

Wrath= Irene (Ire/Irate)

Sloth= Sloth (too lazy for an actual name). He's the one coiled around her neck, usually sleeping. He also comes from the left side of her head.

Vaggie:

I leaned into the moth elements in her design. I think it was the Columbian Silk moth that I used as as my main reference.

When she fell, she was transformed into a demon like everyone else. So she isn't really an angel anymore and bleeds the same as the other sinners. Not even Lucifer really counts as an angel anymore, due to the corrupting nature of hell.

When Vaggie regains her wings, they are no longer angel wings but are instead moth wings to match the rest of her. They actually double as her hair via magic logic because I like it that way, and it lets me reference some of her older designs.

#hazbin hotel #charlie morningstar #lucifer morningstar #lilith morningstar #vaggie #heavenbound au #a3 art #fanart #traditional art #sketches #sketchbook tour #sketchbook tour 2 #hellaverse

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worldly-fluster · 2 days ago

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Snapdragon

Dragon!Sylus x Non-MC! Reader

Part 1 of ?

*This will be Non-Canon BTW it starts with Dragon!Sylus and goes into normal Sylus*

Warnings: Blood, cussing...I think that's it lol

**non-mc but will be called MC because it's easier to write than (y/n) every time 👍**

-The Start of Something Normal-

-1st person POV- changes throughout**

Have you ever wondered if there was something...more?

Something other than going to a 9-5 and paying rent with all you earned, there must be something else.

At least I had my games right?

Today is weird.

Just weird.

Ever since I woke up from a weird dream, that I can't even remember, I've been randomly smelling flowers.

Checked the LADS game, flowers.

Got ready for work, flowers.

Delt with customers, flowers.

But I'm the only one smelling it?

Maybe it's the stress, I'll just have to take melatonin when I get home.

As I walked through the front door of my apartment, coming home after a long day at work, I was greeted by dark silence. I hate living alone...

I sighed as I placed my keys on the shelves by my door and threw my heavy jacket on top of them. I limped slightly into my living room/kitchen, my feet hurting from standing all day. When I reached the couch, my nose was assaulted by the smell of flowers once again causing me to groan.

"What the fuck... Bruh." I plopped down on the cheap leather futon with a weeze, reaching for the bottle of melatonin gummies I threw on there the other night.

Popping two into in my mouth, I grabbed the iPad next to the bottle and opened up the Love and Deepspace app.

I smiled when I saw Sylus show up immediately on the screen, my heart doing a badump as I sang quietly along to the intro.

Finally getting onto the game, I went to the daily login that I forgot to get this morning, ignoring Zayne standing there in his Panda onesie.

After completing the normal, I didn't know what to do, so I went to check the memories. Only then did I remember I never actually watched the new Dragon Sylus cards...

From what I heard about them it seemed traumatizing. But I guess if I had nothing else to do?...I'm gonna regret it aren't I.

The smell of flowers hit my nose again, even stronger than before, when I tapped the first one I saw called 'Abyssal Blossom'.

As the memory loads, the iPad glitches and shuts off. Maybe I forgot to charge it and it died? The smell of flowers is almost overwhelming, as if I'm standing in a field full of them.

I started feeling tired, so tired that I could hardly stand up so I decided to just sleep for a while on the futon. I fell asleep quickly.

This dream?...felt familiar...and too real.

The scent of the flowers made more sense here, the field looking familiar...oh its almost exactly like the flower field you can see in one of Sylus' Dragon cards.

What was the name of it again? Abyssal something...

Oh whatever, these flowers are nice. The scent kinda comforts me, almost like a mix of vanilla citrus? With a slight hint of herbal lavender I think... I don't know I'm bad with identifying stuff.

This dream is quite detailed though, the flowers, the dirt, the nice cool breeze and warm rays of sun on my skin...wait, what's that? Looks like something flying in the sky? A big bird maybe...it's coming closer? Oh shit, what the fuck-?!

The air was knocked out of my lungs as I was picked up and yoinked through the air.

"Are you here to try to kill me?"

I blinked up at the...man? Are we flying??

"No?"

I wheezed out my answer, it sounding more like a question in my shock as I clung onto him. The man? narrowed his eyes at me.

Are those red eyes? And horns? Why does he look like Sylus?? Wait, Dragon Sylus???

He seemed to search my face for something, his own relaxing a bit as he found what he was looking for.

"Then why are you in my territory?"

"I don't know, I just woke up here..."

"Woke up here? Who, in their right mind, would come into my territory for any reason?"

"I don't know...I just remember falling asleep at home and waking up in this field. It's beautiful by the way."

"Hm..."

"What should I call you? I'm MC."

"...Stayrus*" (Something that sounds similar lol)

"...How about Sylus?"

"Do what you want. It'll be up to me whether I answer or not."

"So...where are you taking me?"

"To my home, where I will be keeping an eye on you."

"Oh okay."

"Don't get any ideas human. I'm bored and I have been waiting for something interesting."

"I mean, I figured. No one just goes out and picks up a random stranger without being a little bored."

He grunts as he continues flying through the sky.

He brought me to a cave opening at the top of a deep canyon, he sat me down and lightly pushed me inside.

"You will be staying here until I say so."

"Alrighty. Any rules?"

"No...you are oddly okay with this."

"Well," I shrug, "it's either this or fend for myself in an unfamiliar place outside."

"Sylus?"

"..."

"Um...Stayraytus??"

"That was terrible."

"Sorry..."

"..." He sighs, "What is it?"

"So...I have zero survival skills...can you teach me how to survive here? Please?"

"...child."

"Yes...sorry."

It's been about a week since Sylus, yes he started answering to it, let me stay in his 'home'. He started teaching me some survival things, like how to find food, telling me to ask him first if the thing is edible. Other than that, it was...boring.

In my boredom, while Sylus lay on the cool cave floor surrounded by gold, I started stretching.

Touching my toes, bending to the side, balancing on one foot like a flamingo...you name it, I was trying to do it.

I was in the downward dog position when Sylus spoke.

"What are you doing?"

"...yoga?"

"...yugo."

"Pffft-" I couldn't help but laugh a bit, "it's Yo-gah."

"...why are you doing whatever that's called?"

"It's so my body doesn't get stiff."

"...how old are you?"

"23."

"..."

"...Don't you dare say it."

Sylus grunted as he went back to messing with his golden lamp thing.

After a bit of silence he spoke.

"I'm 27."

I looked up at him in a little surprise.

"Really? You look my age honestly."

"hm."

We were sitting by the entrance of the cave, watching the sunset, when Sylus broke the silence.

"Your hair..."

"What's wrong with my hair? Is there knots? I swear I got them all out earlier..."

"No, it's just different."

"What do you mean?"

"everyone I've ever seen had lighter hair...yours is darker. It's...pretty."

My face felt hot as I turned away from him.

"Oh, thank you...no one's said that about me before."

"Why not?"

I shrug.

"I'm sure that you get called pretty, beautiful, every time someone sees you, I mean, you're pretty attractive...I'm going to shut up now..."

There was a bit of silence until he spoke, looking over my face.

"No one has ever called me any of those things before..."

"Oh...well I still think you are. Those people are just blind."

"...Thank you."

I smile at him.

"Any time."

A comfortable silence settled over us but I couldn't take my eyes off of him if I tried. His hair looked so soft and fluffy...

"Hey Sylus?"

"Hm?"

"Can I...touch your hair?"

He looked questioningly at me, one of his brows raised.

"Why?"

"It looks so soft, but you don't need to say yes. I was just curious."

Sylus looked to the side, seeming to think for a moment before he looked down with a small smile, giving a small nod before he lay stretched out and placed his head on my lap, careful of his horns.

I let out an excited hum as I carefully ran my fingers through his hair, my nails slightly scratching his scalp. He grunted, not really used to this type of contact but...he thinks he can get used to this.

Sylus closed his eyes as he felt your hands work their way through his hair, around the base of his horns gently and lightly rubbing behind them in the hard to reach places. His chest felt warm, his heart fluttering as all he could think about were your hands, the warmth of your thighs...

He could definitely get used to this.

It seemed winter was fast approaching as the cave seemed to get colder, frost covering the edges of the entrance. I sat snuggled into Sylus' side.

"...What are you doing?"

"It's cold, it's called cuddling for warmth."

"... do as you wish."

His tail gently curled around us, pushing me just a bit closer.

"...it is getting colder out. We'll have to get you something warmer."

"Ah, don't worry about it. You're warm enough so I'll just have to stay right here."

Sylus grunted, his tail wrapping just a bit tighter. Just enough for me to notice.

The next day, Sylus was gone for a little while. I had to stay warm by my own makeshift fire, the dry sticks that were just by the edge of the cave entrance being my fuel.

While I waited for Sylus to get back I watched as the smoke went up through a small hole in the ceiling of the cave, wondering, how long have I been here? Where he could have gone? ...how much longer will I be allowed to stay?

After just a few more minutes, I heard the sound of his powerful wings as he landed at the entrance. He was holding a big bundle of... something.

He walked over to me and just, dumped what he was holding onto my head.

"Mph?!"

"This should work."

His tail moved the pile of burning sticks to the side before I could accidentally fall onto it with his gift still suffocating me.

Seeing me still struggling with it, he chuckled and plucked one blanket off my head letting me poke my head out of the pile.

"Guh! Why you do this?"

"English Sweetie."

"What is this?"

"Blankets, for warmth."

"...Thank you Sylus."

"Hm. Now scooch over, I'm cold."

"You're literally a walking furnace?"

"... I'm cold."

"Just say you wanna cuddle."

"...cuddle me."

As winter gave way to spring, the flowers started blooming again. The change in temperature seemed to make Sylus stir crazy.

I let out a squeal as his thick tail wrapped around my waist and pulled me along.

"Sylus! No!"

"Sylus yes."

"No!"

"Do you want to see the flowers or not?"

"...fine. But if you drop me, I will haunt you."

After a short flight, Sylus landed at the field of flowers he found me in. I looked around, having not had the chance to fully look around before being whisked away, when I saw something that made me gasp.

"Oh! Look, there are Snapdragon's!"

I moved towards them, Sylus staying close to my side.

"What? There aren't any other dragons here."

"No not actual dragons, Sy, they're a type of flower."

I move so he could see it better.

"This is a snapdragon!"

"That looks nothing like a dragon."

"It kinda does, see? This is it's eyes, nose, horns, and this!"

I push the sides of the flower together, making a small opening into the flower.

"Is it's mouth! Cool right?"

"... dragons don't open their mouth just because you touch their cheeks."

"These ones do. Try it! It's fun."

"Fine."

I watched as he moved his claws around the flower, actively trying not to damage it, but failing.

"Sylus you have to be gentle." I giggle as he accidentally crushes the flower between his claws.

"Here, use the pads of your fingers instead."

I hold his hands as I help him gently open the Snapdragon's mouth. His breath seemed to stutter as he let me guide his hands.

"There, you did it!"

"Hmm..."

In a small burst of confidence, I giggle and lift my hands to his face where I gently press on his cheeks.

"Good job!"

His eyes widen slightly and out of reflex, or shock, his mouth slightly opens.

"You know, you're my big Snapdragon."

After we made our way back to the cave, I had a thought.

"What if I end up going back some day?"

"Back where?"

"My home, like how I woke up here, will I one day wake up back home?"

Sylus seemed to stiffen a bit as he looked towards me, eyes searching my face.

"...do you want to go back home."

"I don't know, some days I miss home but most days I forget."

"I understand...what if you never go back?"

"Then I hope you'll let me stay?"

"I'll be here."

There is a long comfortable silence as we watch the sunset from the mouth of the cave once again. I took in a big breath of the freshest air I'll ever have and enjoy the moment.

"Sylus? Can you promise me something?"

"What is it?"

"If I do end up leaving somehow, I want you to find things that make you happy, not just surviving but living."

His tail flicks a bit behind us.

"...fine, as long as you promise the same."

A few days later we were at the flower field once again.

The sun set and we continued to sit amongst the flowers after a long day of lazing around. The stars slowly came out one by one.

While I watched the stars it reminded me of a song that gets stuck in my head.

"You and I stargazing...intertwining souls..."

I quietly sang, trying not to disturb the quiet night.

While I looked at the stars and the moon that hung beautifully, Sylus looked my way with a slightly raised brow, curious.

"What's that?

He whispered his question, his rough voice surprisingly soft.

I gave a small hum, still looking at the night sky.

"it's a song from my home... sitting here under the stars reminded me of it."

"Hm..."

"You know...the moon is very beautiful tonight."

"...yeah, it is."

He couldn't seem to look away from you, watching the moon and stars that reflected in your eyes.

I heard birds chirping as I slowly woke up from a comfortable sleep, feeling warm. I could smell flowers still. I tried to turn but a weight on my side stopped me.

I heard a deep grunt as the weight tightened around me and pulled me closer. A second weight being added onto my legs, seeming to curl around and in between them.

I groggily opened my eyes to be met with a familiar shiny red jewel, just barely grazing my nose. I moved my hands up from their place by my stomach up to the jewel. I leaned my face into the jewel and snuggled closer.

I could feel a soft rumbling coming from the dragon I was cuddled to, having realized it was him from the warmth he gave me.

"It seems we fell asleep..."

His voice was deep from sleep, his clawed hands pulling me closer. The scent of flowers being drowned out by his smell. Scent like a bonfire and leather.

"We're still in the field?"

"Yeah...I didn't want to wake you."

I felt his warm breath on the top of my head, taking in my own scent.

He...he's definitely used to this. He never wants to let you go. You gave him a warmth he thought he would never receive, showed him care and treated him not as the monster everyone screams he is. With you, he's not a Fiend. He's Sylus, your Snapdragon.

-**

It was only a few moments...

That's all it took.

One second, you both were walking through the field towards home when there was a sharp sound. Sylus reacted almost immediately, dodging the claymore that sliced into the dirt where he was just seconds ago.

He barely let out a breathe before the assailant attacked again. He dodged once more before he heard.

"Sylus! Help!"

His head snapped towards the direction of your voice. What he saw made his blood boil. You were being pinned to the ground by a big burly, ugly, man.

"I got you!"

In his moment of distraction, the one attacking him hit him with something like magic. Golden chains wrapped around him, pinning him down. He heard a laugh as a woman walked into his sight, she was a sorceress and she had an overconfident smirk on her face.

"Time to face your fate, Fiend!" She laughed out, "honestly, I thought you were stronger than that. How disappointing."

"Fate?! What fate?!"

Sylus heard you struggling, making him start to struggle as well so he can get you out of here.

"Now now," the sorceress tutted towards him, then turned towards you, "His fate is to die by my claymore. Simple."

"That's his fate?! Bullshit!"

"You can't change fate-"

"Like fuck I will!"

You cut her off, just as you knocked the large man off of you with a quick kick to the groin. When you were free you threw yourself between her and Sylus.

"Just watch me."

You smirked as you watched her eyes widen and she took a step back.

"MC! No!"

Sylus struggled with the golden chains of magic holding him down.

"Don't worry Snapdragon...I got this."

"Stop! This is not-"

"Too late, already did."

-**

I grunt as the claymore goes through my chest, I can feel the intense pain for only a moment before it seems to disappear. The claymore is lodged in my chest, a ringing going through my ears. Sylus' eyes widen as it feels all the air is taken from his lungs when he sees the end of the claymore exit your back.

"MC!"

"Hahaha! Now what are you going to do Fiend?!"

"I'm going to fucking kill you!"

I heard a growl and the sound of something breaking but my mind goes a little fuzzy as a fight rages on, roars of anger and grunts reach my ears along with the sounds of a blade and claws. I could faintly hear the sound of tearing flesh.

All I could do was stare at the claymore still embedded in my chest, my hands too shaky and weak to pull it.

For a moment I thought the last things I would hear was the fight until-

"MC-"

Sylus slides over to me, his bloodied claws gently holding me. His wounds are already healing over as his panicked eyes look me over.

"MC, she's gone, you don't have to worry now. I got you."

"Sy..."

"Shit..." His voice grew hoarse, his eyes and hands shaking slightly as he tried to figure out a way to help. He seemed to find an idea as his brow set in determination.

"We need to resonate, my healing could help you but we need to resonate, now."

I nod slightly and he grabs my hand gently with one of his as his other gently tries to remove the claymore. I could feel his claws shake a little as he closed his eyes but I didn't want to close my eyes yet. I didn't want it to be the last time I did, so I watched as his power and a power I didn't know I had, connected. When I concentrate I can feel his anger, his fear, and something else I couldn't place. I watched as the claymore fell out of sight, his now free hand coming up to cup my face.

He leaned closer, our foreheads lightly touching.

I could almost feel my flesh mend, but the pain was numb to me as I kept my eyes on his face. I saw his brows furrow, his lips thin in what looks like pain-our shared pain, his eyes stayed closed in concentration.

After a moment more, I felt complete. I let out a sigh as the resonation slowly disappeared, my eyes fluttering closed a moment before I fixed them onto him. I watched as his eyes slowly opened, his nose grazing mine as his eyes locked on mine.

"You aren't going anywhere. Not without me. We live together and we die together. Only you can kill me, and I you."

There is a slight glow to his eyes and the gem in his chest as he stares into my eyes, into my soul.

"Sylus-"

"You're stuck with me. Who else will teach me about your home?"

I shake my head with a giggle.

"What would I do without my Snapdragon?"

"Hm..."

"I'd probably die."

He glared at me for even joking about it, his hand gripping mine a little harder. The hand on my cheek pressed against me, forcing my forehead to press onto his a little more.

"Even if I wasn't here, I would do everything to make sure you stay by me."

"That doesn't even make sense." I laugh.

"You know what I mean." He smiles as you bring a hand to his face, rubbing your thumb of his cheek to get some dirt off. He leaned into your touch, his eyes full of warmth as he continued to stare into your eyes.

After a moment I pull away and stand, Sylus standing as well. I look around at the now destroyed field, a pang of sadness hits my heart...

As both of us take in the aftermath, an oddly familiar scent hits my nose...when suddenly my body starts to glow slightly.

"Wait, Sylus what's happening?"

"I don't know, come here."

This feeling I get from the soft glow feels familiar...my eyes widen when I realize, the smell...

"Sylus!"

"MC?!"

We reach out to each other but the moment his clawed hand touches my hand, a bright light shines and I'm gone.

-**

Nothing is left of her as the light completely disappates

"MC?!"

Sylus turns this way and that, wanting- needing to see just a glimpse of her. His tail whipping around wildly as he floats around in a panic, clawed hands reaching for something, anything.

"MC!...Where..."

Sylus stops for a moment, slowly landing on the cold ground beneath him before collapsing to his knees.

He throws his head back as he lets out the most broken yell that could be heard for miles.

He looked to the side when he ran out of breath, his chest heaving as he let out a whimper. He saw that claymore, laying coldly on the dirt. Your blood still covered it, your scent still on it...

A few tears fell from his eyes as he reached out and gripped the handle. He pulled it towards him, curling around it slightly on the ground.

He lay there for what felt like forever to him, in the very flower field he met you...the flowers mostly crushed by the ambush of the sorceress that was sent to kill him with this very claymore.

When he finally had the energy to move, he went back to your shared cave, claymore in hand. Seeing the entrance made his flight stutter, knowing you won't be there to welcome him home...

He landed at the opening, he stepped heavily inside.

He saw your pile of blankets, the small fire pit you built, the little trinkets you collected from his horde that he let you have...

He stabbed the claymore into his old sleeping place then made his way towards the small stream that runs through the edge of the cave. He used the water from the steam to clean the blood off of him, yours, his, that damned sorceress...

After he was cleaned and dried off with the cloth you used to use, he made his way to your pile of blankets.

Sylus collapsed into them, burying himself in your scent, a wine leaving his throat as he held tightly onto what was left of you.

The dragon is lost without his master...

#love and deepspace #love and deepspace sylus #love and deepspace imagine #lads sylus #l&ds sylus #lads fanfic #sylus x reader #sylus love and deepspace #lnds sylus

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stars4noah · 2 days ago

Text

TELL THE STARS- one.

{WARNINGS}: swearing

w.c- 2,023

a.n- i've only written one chapter of this and i'm in love. sorry it's so short, i'm having brain farts rn :(

{TAGLIST}: nothing yet..

for years, noah had been searching. the red string bound to his pinky felt like it was burning through his skin. he wasn't usually a man of religion or prayer, but he would pray to the stars that one day he would find her. his soulmate.

he was making his morning coffee run for himself and the others before they took off for the beginning of their tour when a young girl bumped into him, spilling her coffee all over his shirt. she apologized profusely, panicking and helping wipe his shirt with some napkins, while he was stood frozen, staring at the string that connected the two of them.

NOAH'S POV.

today marked the beginning of our tour. new album, new fans, bigger shows. bad omens had gotten bigger than i had ever expected, and i had a smile on my face the whole way i was walking to some coffee shop, looking down at my phone.

as the bell rang, announcing my arrival, i felt a small push against my chest, followed by cold liquid all over me. my eyes widened as i looked down to see a girl apologizing over and over again, trying to help me clean my shirt.

"fuck." i cursed as i registered what happened before noticing the red string that tied us together. i snapped out of my haze, knowing she was likely very confused.

"hey, it's alright. no big deal. accidents happen. let me buy you a new one, yeah?" i smiled sweetly.

"sorry, i really would, but i have to go. sorry!" she said, rushing out of the store before i could even get another word in. would it be weird for me to chase after her? probably.

i groaned, running a hand over my face. i forced myself to commit her face to memory. if i met her again, i would have to stop her. i think that she was so busy and in such a rush to get to her destination, she didn't even notice the obvious.

we were soulmates.

with a small smile and a dirty shirt, i ordered mine and the band's drinks and waited patiently.

i ran into the house quickly, putting the drinks on the kitchen counter as i was met with eyes of confusion. "woah, dude, what's going on?" matt asked, and a huge goofy smile spread across my face.

"i met my soulmate."

their eyes widened. "seriously? where is she?" nicholas asked, a smile taking over his features as well.

"oh uh... she left. i met her but i didn't meet meet her, you know?"

jolly raised an eyebrow. "so what happened?"

"i walked into the coffee shop and this girl spilled her coffee all over me and i realized her string was connected to mine! and then i offered to replace her drink but she said she had to go and just rushed out before i could say anything else."

i sighed, a look of longing in my eyes as i leaned against the counter and tried to come up with a plan on how i could find her again. i refused to leave LA before i got her number at least. knowing she was out there, i couldn't go out on tour for almost a year not knowing her name or anything about her.

"we have to find her. fast." i said.

READER'S POV.

i rushed out of the coffee shop, running to my car and quickly driving off. i had just been hired for some new stage tech job for some band and i could not afford to be late. plus, these guys payed pretty well. and one of them could be my soulmate, who knows?

i put the address for the airport into the gps, driving as fast as i could without getting pulled over. today had already been such a shitty day, and it was almost 8 am. lord knows what would happen if i-

whoop!

"oh, come on!" i groaned, looking at the flashing red and blue lights from the rearview mirror. i pulled over into some parking lot, putting my car in park and running my hands over my face. this day could not get worse.

"ma'am, do you know why i pulled you over?" the officer asked as i rolled down my window.

"speeding, probably." i said, the officer giving me a disapproved look at my slight attitude. they took my license and registration, walking off for a moment before coming back with all my stuff and the added bonus of a ticket.

i huffed as i pulled away. "$200 fucking dollars. jesus christ." i said.

i soon pulled up to the airport, parking my car which took longer than i'd like to admit. i was only a couple minutes late as i walked into the airport, looking for a familiar face. and i was shocked when i found them, only to see two familiar faces.

oh right. the guy from the coffee shop.

'please don't be my boss, please don't be my boss.' i thought to myself as i walked over to them, a soft smile on my face.

"oh, good! you're here!" matt said. i smiled back, giving him a small hug in greeting. him and i had been best friends since we were kids, and he offered me the job not too long ago. of course, needing the money, i said yes. i had a degree in that kind of stuff anyways, so it wasn't much of a bother. i knew what i was doing for the most part.

he introduced me to everyone, the last person being the cute guy from the coffee shop.

"and this is noah, our lead singer and boss."

'fuck!' i cursed internally.

brand new job, and i already made a terrible first impression. i shook his hand, my eyes going down to his pinky out of habit. i froze when i saw his string connected to mine, my eyes widening as i looked back up at him, though he didn't seem to notice. did he not see the string? or did he not recognize me? i didn't want to say anything out of fear of seeming like a weirdo, so i said nothing and continued walking with them to security.

security was a breeze, and we all sat down at our terminal as we waited for the plane.

"so.. have you met your soulmate?" i asked noah, looking up at him. he smiled softly.

"yeah, today actually. she bumped into me at a coffee shop. didn't get her name though. or a good look at her face. you?"

i nodded, biting my lip. "i think so."

"oh yeah? how?"

i took a breath. "uh.. funny story." i laughed. "i don't think he recognizes me. we got a glimpse of each other for like a minute and i ran off."

"oh, well you should try to find him." noah said.

"actually, i-"

"flight 202 is now boarding." the intercom spoke.

i cursed as noah and i got split up again. we boarded the plane, me sitting beside matt next to the window and noah a couple rows behind us sitting by nicholas.

i sighed as i sat down, running my hands over my face with a groan.

"hey, what's wrong?" matt asked as he got comfortable beside me.

"i'm like, 99.9 percent sure that noah is my soulmate. and he doesn't recognize me. and every time we talk we get interrupted before i can say anything." i said, and matt's eyes widened.

"wait, you're cute coffee shop girl?"

"yes!" i said. "why do you think i was running late? i spilled my coffee all over him and then i got pulled over. today has been the worst."

matt laughed softly, patting my back.

"it'll get better. i promise."

a couple hours later, we arrived at some airport in florida. our first show was in orlando, so once we got out of the airport we headed straight to the tour bus to start our drive.

"alright." noah said. "[y/n], you can have the bunk above mine. we're gonna be here for a good few hours, so make yourself at home."

i nodded and smiled softly, my eyes darting down to his pinky again.

the whole soulmate thing was a weird process. after you officially met your soulmate, your string disappeared, leaving you with a mark on your finger with a color that matched that of your soulmate's. noah's was green, as was mine. he hadn't noticed though.

"hey, no-"

"noah! come here for a sec!" folio called, and noah excused himself before heading to the front of the bus to talk to his friend.

i climbed into my bunk, groaning into my pillow. every time i was close to telling him, he got distracted. couldn't one thing go right in my life?

before i knew it, the exhaustion of the day had crept up on me, lulling me into sleep. all of my worries seemingly faded away for the time being, and i relaxed for the first time in hours.

until i was woken up again, water being splashed on my face. i sat up quickly, hitting my head on the top of my bunk. "jesus- ow!" i said, looking at the five boys who were in front of me, matt holding the now empty bottle of water. he tried to contain his laugh, noticing how i looked at him with a glare.

"i hate you." i said.

"you love me."

as we prepared the arena for the tour, matt showed me how things worked. how to set up the speakers, the different tracks and when they need to be played, and all of that stuff. i tried to stay out of the way for the time being, only doing things when i was told to do them.

i'd never seen noah perform before. i'd never even heard of the band until matt gave me the job opportunity. but seeing him perform on stage was something different entirely. how could a man with such a sweet face have such a powerful voice? it was crazy.

i tried to ignore my growing arousal as i watched him perform. the way he moved, the way he spoke and smiled and screamed. it was all so beautiful. so infatuating. i was so caught up in my own thoughts i didn't even notice when the show ended. and just like always, every time i tried to talk to him, he ended up having something else to do. i could barely get three words out before he had to go and see some fans or sign some papers or some rockstar shit. it was starting to piss me off.

i threw my bag on my bed as we got back to the hotel. first show, and i was in a bad mood. the whole day, nothing had been going the way i needed it to. i couldn't even bring attention to the fact that i was his soulmate. standing right in front of him, and he didn't even notice.

just like i didn't notice someone walk into the room, right i was taking off my shirt.

"oh, shit!"

i screamed, quickly covering myself as i turned around.

"fuck, noah! what are you doing?" i questioned, my eyes wide in confusion and shock.

"i- we- we're um.. sharing a room. i thought matt told you." he said, a hand over his eyes.

of course. matt.

i huffed, pulling my shirt back on. "you can look now."

he slowly uncovered his eyes, not wanting to make eye contact with me. i was just so tired, my mind didn't even think to tell him about the whole soulmate thing.

i sighed. "it's been a long day. i'm sorry, i'm just gonna go to sleep."

"no, don't apologize. i get it. get your rest." he said, getting in his bed as i got into mine.

while i dozed off, i didn't notice his eyes on me. or rather his eyes on that little mark on my finger, followed by a soft whisper of my name. i had already fallen asleep.

#edenspeaks #stars4noah #bad omens #noah sebastian #bad omens x reader #noah sebastian x reader #bad omens fanfiction #tell the stars

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dykewithbenefits · 3 days ago

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I just learned it's possible to get addicted to oestrogens and progesterone, and now I can't stop thinking about secretly putting e in some cute cis boy's food until he's entirely dependent on it.

Maybe he'd start noticing his butt getting bigger, his chest beginning to swell or his face growing more feminine, but I'd just gaslight him into thinking nothing's different:

"What, your ass has always been that big! You're saying you noticed that just now? Are you feeling okay? Maybe you've got low blood sugar? Want me to cook something for you?"

Then, one day, I'd stop messing with his food, and once he'd start getting withdrawals, I'd reveal to him what I've done all this time. He'd be angry at me, sure, but he'd also be so far gone that he'd be reliant on me to get his fix. As the emphatic girl I am, I'd give it to him, but he'd have to do some stuff for me in return.

I'd start dressing him up in pretty skirts and tight booty shorts—I mean, with a butt that bubbly, it'd be a crime to not show it off, right? I'd have him wear slutty little tank tops and a she/her pronoun badge, and I'd do his makeup for him each morning.

It wouldn't be long until he'd look so much like a girl that he'd start getting misgendered in public. The look on his face when he'd get referred to as "ma'am" or "miss" or have guys catcalling him on the street would be priceless. He'd hate it, but he can't stop pumping himself full of hormones, so he'd have no other choice than to simply grit his teeth and get over it as his tits keep growing bigger and his thighs swells into cushions.

I'd make him get implants and bottom surgery, until he'd be virtually indistinguishable from a cis girl—after all, as his enabler, his gender identity and presentation would be wholly up for me to decide—but obviously, nothing would change the fact that he'd still very much be a cis boy at heart.

Nobody would know except for him and I, and to me, he'd always be my good little girl.

As for him, well, I could only hope he'd learn it too soon enough <3

#forcefem #cis correction #cisbreaking #cis breaking #cis conversion #cis misgendering #yes this is an allegory #also don't fact check me on the whole addiction part I'm no scientist

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demigodsanswer · 21 hours ago

Note

I really love the royal's au, and I love the percabeth's babies, I would love to read when they found out about Annabeth's first pregnancy because according to my numbers, the pregnancy and the wedding were at the same time hahahahaha

I was wondering if anyone was going to do the math! Yes, they get pregnant very quickly. The backstory to this is that, about a month before the formal wedding they are supposed to have, there's a bit of a public scandal (I'll probably write about this another time), and so to put down any notion from the government, their families, or the public that they shouldn't get married, Percy and Annabeth basically elope. They get married in a private chapel, with just Sally and Fred in attendance. They then abscond to Iceland for a mini-moon, before coming back to have the actual big ceremony. It's only after the big public ceremony that they announce they've actually been married for about a month.

So this fic takes place on their mini-moon in Iceland, and then jumps forward about a month and a half to their actual honeymoon in the Italian Rivera.

Percy might now be a member of the Swedish royal family, but he was not, by any means, used to Summers in the extreme north. The sun hadn't set in a month. His and Annabeth's room in the palace had blackout curtains, which helped a little, but his sleep schedule was wildly thrown off. Now in a small hotel in Iceland, hiding out from the rest of the world, he really was struggling to sleep.

He should be exhausted by all accounts. He went from scandal, to marriage, to his new wife riding him for all he was worth in just a few long days. They'd left the hotel once or twice, to see the hot springs and to eat the most delicious hot dog Percy had ever tried. But mostly, they'd been honeymooning.

Percy had finally drifted to sleep maybe an hour before Annabeth's alarm went off. Percy flailed wildly, trying to find her phone to shut it off.

"I got it," Annabeth mumbled. "I need to get up and take my birth control, I don't think I did yesterday," she said.

"Alright, when you're done, come back and cuddle," Percy said, trying to rediscover sleep with little success.

A minute later, she sat on the bed and shook him.

"What?" He asked, cracking his eyes open.

"I haven't taken my birth control in seven days," Annabeth said.

"Well, that's not ideal," Percy said. They'd had plenty of sex, none or it with condoms, and Percy was pretty sure he hadn't pulled out once.

"I have a morning after pill with me," Annabeth said, letting the statement hang in the air.

"Will it work at this point?" Percy asked.

"Maybe not, depends on if I've ovulated or not."

"Well, what do you want to do?"

Annabeth was quiet for a moment. "I mean, I usually take seven days of placebo pills anyway, and I haven't gotten pregnant before. So, odds are low anyway. No reason to worry. I mean, I just got my period, so it's probably fine."

"So ...?" Percy asked.

"So, I think I'm just going to restart the pills and not bother with the Plan B," she said.

"What if ..." Percy said, not sure how to feel about his question. He felt excited about it, but he didn't want to make Annabeth feel like he had any expectations.

"If I'm pregnant?" Annabeth asked with a smile. She laid back down next to him. "Well, that's your job isn't it? To help me populate our royal line?"

Percy nodded, and Annabeth slipped back under the covers.

When they woke a few hours later, Annabeth groaned. "I forgot to take it again!" Before finally, actually, taking the small pill for the first time all week.

Six weeks later ...

The Italian Rivera was idyllic. They'd been here for two weeks, and they had two more weeks of honeymoon scheduled. Nico had given them some recommendation for places to eat and things to do. But mostly, they stayed in the large house, or ventured outside to swim, walk, or bike. Percy had never been so relaxed.

Which is why he felt terrible for his poor wife, who was now in bed, her hand over her eyes, complaining that she felt nauseous. They'd ruled out the food -- Percy had eaten all the same things and felt fine. She wasn't feverish. And she probably wasn't hung over. They hadn't been drinking much, favoring other sins (although, he supposed, they weren't sins anymore, now that they were married. Well, except for the anal. That was probably still sinful.)

"I'm gonna be sick," Annabeth said suddenly, tumbling out of the bed and running towards the bathroom. Percy followed behind her, kneeling on the ground next to her as she got sick, holding her hair back.

"Should I get a doctor?" Percy asked, once Annabeth seemed past the worst of it. He handed her a glass of tap water.

Annabeth leaned back on her heels. She had her thinking face on.

"How many weeks has it been since Iceland?" She asked him.

Percy counted. "Six, give or take," he said. Annabeth nodded. Percy caught up to her thinking then. "Do you think--"

Her face was neutral, her hopes low. "I think we should get a pregnancy test," she said.

Percy was able to get one himself, leaving Annabeth in the bathroom of the home, still riding out some waves of ... sickness of an inconclusive origin.

They sat next to each other on the bed as the test worked.

"How would you feel if it was positive?" Percy asked.

"Really excited," Annabeth confessed.

"If it's not?" Percy asked.

"Disappointed but ..." She took his hands and looked at him. "I know we said we'd wait a year, or a few months at least, but I think, maybe, what if we got started sooner?"

Percy kissed her. Her mouth tasted like toothpaste and mouthwash. "I'd like that," he promised.

"It should be ready," Annabeth said, standing. They'd left it in the bathroom, so neither of them would be tempted to look before it was finished.

They covered their eyes and stumbled into the bathroom.

"Count of three?" Percy said.

"One... two... three ..." Annabeth said. Both of their eyes popped open and fixed on the drugstore test. Before Percy's brain could even really process the sight of the two dark blue lines, Annabeth was hugging him and crying.

Percy hugged her back, his eyes still staring at the test in disbelieving joy. "Oh, you are so pregnant," he said. There was no misreading the clearly crossed lines.

"We're going to have a baby!" Annabeth said with a sob, crying into his shoulder. Percy gave her a good squeeze and felt himself start to cry.

"We're having a baby," he said back.

The baby, of course, was also the heir to the Swedish throne, which meant a swift end to their honeymoon. The two packed up quick, and tried to make their return to Sweden as covert as possible, but word got out anyway.

"Daddy, I'm fine," Annabeth said to her father over the phone. Fred had called before they even left Italian airspace. "I just haven't been feeling well, and I want to see our doctor, instead of some random doctor in Italy."

They were waiting to make sure everything looked okay before they got Fred's hopes up, but as consequence, Annabeth was stressing her father out. They had considered not even telling him they were coming home so soon, but of course, if anyone was going to hear about Annabeth's movements, it would be her father. And if their staff didn't tell him, Twitter would.

A few random accounts had correctly predicted the reason for their return, but Percy didn't engage with any speculation.

"I'm going to the doctor as soon as we get back, and she should have answers for us. I'll call you as soon as I know," Annabeth promised.

When she hung up, Percy took her hand. "Do you think he'll be angry?" Percy asked.

"No, we were and are married. Even if we weren't, he'd be excited," Annabeth promised.

Percy and Annabeth went right from the airport to the doctor's office. Annabeth knew that if she saw her father, she'd tell him, and she wanted to be sure there was a baby before that happened.

The doctor warned that it might be too early for a heart beat, and that if they didn't hear one, it wasn't the end of the world. But Percy was sure Annabeth's kid would be tough and above average in every way. So of course there was already a heartbeat. And of course, both parents wept the moment it was heard.

"Everything looks good here," the doctor said, pointing to the spot in Annabeth's womb that was their baby. She had a heavy Swedish accent, but spoke in English so Percy could participate. "We count weeks from the end date of your last period, not when you think conception happened, so looks like you're about seven, maybe eight weeks along?" The doctor predicted.

"But I had a period six weeks ago?" Annabeth asked.

"That might have been implantation bleeding," the doctor speculated. Annabeth nodded as if she knew what that was, but Percy had never heard of it before.

"So, everything is okay?" Percy asked.

"Everything looks great so far," the doctor promised. "We'll keep doing periodic scans, of course." Then she ran through a list of things that were normal, things to get checked out, and emergencies. Percy listened closely to all of these, taking notes on his phone, as his wife's attention drifted away from the doctor's words and back towards the screen.

They left the appointment with three sheets of sonogram pictures: one for them, one to send to Sally in New York, and one for Fred, who was waiting for them the moment they walked through the door.

Annabeth's father said a few rapid things in Swedish to her. Percy could have sworn his hair was going whiter by the minute.

"Daddy, it's okay, I'm fine," she said. Fred seemed to see her face for the first time and registered their uncontrollable joy.

"Why did you come back early?" He asked then, switching to English for Percy.

Annabeth just reached into her purse and handed him the images. Fred seemed frozen as his brain processed what his daughter had handed him.

"I thought you and the government might prefer if I was back home while I'm pregnant with the country's heir," she said.

The moment her father started to cry, so did Annabeth. While he congratulated and hugged her, Percy glanced around, and saw Hugo standing there, also near tears it seemed. Percy realized that this man must have known Annabeth for a while. Percy smiled at him. He tried to tell him this is a secret, but he was pretty sure he said: "[You hold it secret.]" Close enough. Hugo nodded.

"So soon?" Fred asked, pulling away from her. And then he looked at Percy. "So soon?"

Annabeth just shrugged while Percy floundered looking for an excuse.

"We were already married when it happened," Annabeth confirmed.

"You were pregnant during the big wedding?" Fred asked.

Annabeth nodded. "Not that we knew yet. We came back as soon as we found out."

"I'm so happy for you two," Fred said with a smile, pulling Percy in for a hug. "Now, go get some rest. News of your shortened honeymoon has broken, and people will want answers."

"We don't want the public to know this early," Annabeth said.

"We'll figure out something to say," Fred promised. "But we can figure that out tomorrow."

Not that Percy would know the difference between today and tomorrow, since all the hours were still blending together into one long sunlight-filled day.

#modern royals au #percabeth #percy jackson #annabeth chase #my writing

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slickdickwitchbitchh · 17 hours ago

Text

Obx: After Dark

Chapter 1: Pilot

Summary: The roommates moved in full of hope and camaraderie, eager for a fun summer together, but things quickly soured when Rafe started stirring trouble. Tensions reached a breaking point, culminating in a heated fight between JJ and Rafe, leaving the group on edge and questioning the dynamic in the house.

A/N: the fight between JJ & Rafe is based on this fight from Vanderpump Rules, my favorite reality show i suggest watching because it’s hilarious.(i’m sorry the video is long i suggest starting at 3:05 that’s when the fight starts)

Masterlist

Pilot

Voiceover/Narrator: "The Outer Banks, a chain of islands off the coast of North Carolina, where the sun kisses the ocean, and paradise is just a few steps away... [Clip of John B.]: 'Paradise on Earth.' It's the perfect blend of wild beauty and untamed youth. Surfers, sun, and the sound of crashing waves—the OBX is a dream come true... for some. But for others, it's a playground for drama, secrets, and, well... revenge."

Cut to an aerial shot of a sprawling mansion nestled on a cliff, waves crashing beneath. The camera zooms in to the front door where the first cast member enters.

Voiceover/Narrator: "Tonight, we're taking a group of friends, exes, and enemies, and locking them together in a secluded mansion for one very special week. Why? To celebrate Y/N's 21st birthday, of course."

Cut to Y/N walking up to the grand mansion door, looking around in awe. She steps inside, and the camera follows her into the foyer.

Y/N’s Confessional Y/N is sitting in a chair with a slight smirk. "Hey, I’m Y/N. Just turned 21, finally legal. I just moved here six months ago, so I don’t subscribe to the pogues versus kooks rivalry. I’m my own person and I’m pretty much friends with everyone, as long as they don’t come for me."

Producer's voice from behind the camera: "How do you handle conflict?"

Y/N’s face hardens slightly as she thinks about it. "I mean, I have a mouth on me, I don’t take shit from no one. I’m not one to initiate a fight. I think it’s ugly and trashy, but if you’re gonna step to me, I’m gonna protect myself. What am I supposed to do? Take it? Are you kidding me?"

Producer's voice from behind the camera: "Are you a partier?"

Y/N grins and shrugs casually. "I definitely come home at six in the morning a lot."

Y/N walks into the living room, surveying the space with a smile, before hearing someone enter behind her. She turns around.

Cut to Sarah Cameron entering, her heels clicking on the marble floors. She pauses, looking around, and then the camera switches to Sarah’s confessional.

Sarah Cameron’s Confessional "I’m Sarah. I’m 22. It’s been a minute since I've seen some of these people, especially Rafe." A brief pause as her expression shifts slightly. "But what’s crazy is, my dad, Ward, he left us half of his fortune. So, I guess this trip’s gonna be... interesting. I’ve been dating John B. for about four months now, and I’m really looking forward to this week. Just... I hope nothing crazy happens. I’m all about peace and good vibes, but when it comes to Rafe and Topper... we’ll see."

Cut to Sarah entering the mansion. Y/N, excited, barrels down the stairs and jumps on Sarah, spinning her around.

Sarah: "Happy birthday, baby!" gives her a hug

They embrace for a moment before Sarah pulls back, her eyes narrowing slightly.

Sarah: "Okay, but Topper and Rafe are staying here too? That’s what he told me."

Y/N’s face falls into a nervous expression.

Y/N: "Fuck…" pauses "Well, that’s gonna be... interesting."

Sarah and Y/N lock eyes for a moment, then both spot a bottle of tequila on the counter. Without another word, they grab the bottle and each take a shot.

Cut to the front door, where John B. is struggling to carry two suitcases out of the car. The camera switches to his confessional.

John B.’s Confessional "I’m John B., 23, and I’ve been dating Sarah for the past four months. My best friends are the pogues—JJ, Pope, Kiara, Cleo, Y/N, and Sarah. As for the kooks... I don’t necessarily like them, but it’s not on sight if I see them."

Cut to John B. entering the house, dragging the bags in. He sees Sarah and Y/N laughing by the counter.

John B.: "Happy birthday, Y/N!" gives her a big hug

Y/N: "Thanks, JB! Where’s JJ?"

The camera cuts to JJ riding down the sun-kissed streets of OBX on his motorcycle. The sound of the engine rumbles as he speeds down the road.

JJ’s Confessional "I’m JJ, 23. Yeah, I don’t like kooks. And it’s on sight if I see them. I’ve got my squad—Y/N, Sarah, John B., Pope, Kiara, Cleo, and we all stick together." pauses "I’ve got a little thing for Y/N, but... it’s complicated."

JJ pulls up to the mansion on his bike, kicking the stand down. He walks inside, throwing open the front door with a grin.

JJ: "Papas home!"

The camera cuts to Sarah, John B., and Y/N rushing to greet him at the door. Y/N gives JJ a hug that lingers longer than necessary, causing Sarah to shoot John B. a subtle, knowing look. He gives Sarah a matching look, and together, they both simultaneously walk away, leaving JJ and Y/N still hugging.

Pilot (Continued)

JJ and Y/N finally pull apart, both grinning. JJ's eyes twinkle as he reaches into his bag.

JJ: "I've got your birthday gifts."

Y/N: "Gifts? Plural?"

JJ: "You know it."

He opens his tattered duffle bag, rummaging through it before pulling out a crumpled brown paper bag. He hands it to Y/N with a grin.

Y/N: She takes the bag, holding it up to her nose and sniffing it, jerking back immediately. "Woah."

JJ: "I know, right? Only the 'stickiest of ickies' for my girl’s 21st."

Y/N laughs, the excitement in her voice unmistakable.

Y/N: Loudly and dramatically, she yells "STICKYYYYY!" like Tyler, The Creator and Sexy Red's song.

She gives JJ another long hug, grinning from ear to ear.

Y/N: "We’ll save it for tonight."

JJ: "Bet. And I’ll give you your other gift tonight."

Y/N: Teasing with a smirk, she raises her eyebrows. "Oooo, my other gift at night? Sounds sexy."

They both burst out laughing, the playful tension between them undeniable.

Cut to the upstairs area where everyone is gathered around, discussing sleeping arrangements. Y/N and Sarah stand in a room with four queen-sized beds. Y/N quickly claims one of the beds while Sarah glances around, counting beds.

Sarah: "Ugh, I’m guessing Kiara is coming, seeing as there are four beds."

Y/N: Scolding, she replies "Sarah, please. Just be nice and cordial for me, okay? It’s my birthday trip."

Sarah: Rolls her eyes. "Fine, but if she comes for me, all bets are off."

Y/N sighs, shaking her head.

Y/N: "This is gonna be a long week."

The camera switches to JJ and John B., who are surveying the two rooms connected by a bathroom. One has a bunk bed and a single bed, and the other has two queen beds. They exchange looks.

John B.: "We should probably take this room so we can room with Pope."

JJ: "Right, but who are those other two beds in the other room for?"

John B. goes quiet for a moment, then sighs before answering.

John B.: "Sarah told me that Topper told her that him and Rafe are coming."

JJ’s eyes widen, and he immediately jumps off the bottom bunk with a start.

JJ: "What the—who the fuck invited them!?"

John B. immediately grabs JJ’s shoulder, manhandling him back onto the bed with a calm grip.

John B.: "Easy, man. We can’t get crazy."

JJ goes quiet, deep in thought. John B. watches him, concerned.

John B.: "You good?"

JJ looks up, his expression shifting from frustration to something more controlled.

JJ: "Yeah, I’ll be cool... as long as they’re cool."

John B.: "Okay, good. This is supposed to be a fun experience. Don’t let them ruin it."

John B. lies back on his single bed, closing his eyes in an attempt to relax. JJ stares at him for a moment, a devilish look on his face.

JJ: Leaning forward, he starts rummaging through his duffle bag. "And plus, I brought my backup."

John B. opens one eye, just in time to see JJ pull something from his bag. JJ holds it up with a triumphant grin.

JJ: "Aha!"

John B. immediately opens both eyes, his face dropping as he realizes what JJ’s holding. It’s a gun—his eyes widen in shock.

The camera focuses on John B.’s worried expression as he stares at the gun.

John B. (looking directly at the camera): Panicked, his voice shaky. "Uh, JJ, man, what the hell are you doing?"

The screen immediately cuts to static, followed by an error sound effect. The camera cuts to JJ, now walking into the confessional room, a cocky grin plastered on his face.

JJ (laughing): "Sorry, y’all, I didn’t read the contract before I signed it, and apparently, there are no weapons allowed [uses air quotes]—even BB guns."

Even the producers chuckle behind the camera.

JJ: "I’m on strike one already, and we’ve only been here for 40 minutes... so... yeah, it’s gonna be a long week."

The screen fades to black, teasing what’s to come next.

Scene: Topper and Rafe’s Arrival

The sound of an engine rumbles as Rafe’s F-150 cruises down the sunny streets of the Outer Banks. The truck gleams under the sun, a reflection of Rafe’s personality—flashy, over-the-top, and unapologetic. Topper rides shotgun, sunglasses on, leaning back casually. The coastal scenery whizzes past as the two make small talk.

Topper: "Man, I can’t believe we’re doing this. A whole week in that house with them."

Rafe: Smirking, eyes on the road. "Yeah, well, free booze and drama? I’m in. Plus, I’ve got a few... loose ends to tie up."

Topper: Chuckling. "Loose ends? More like bad decisions."

Rafe: Laughing darkly. "Touché. But you know me—I make things interesting."

Topper: Glancing at Rafe. "You do realize Sarah’s gonna be there, right? And John B?"

Rafe: His smirk widens into something more sinister. "Please. Like I’m scared of them. Besides, I’ve got better things to focus on."

The truck pulls up to the secluded mansion, the ocean shimmering in the background. Both men step out, their confident strides and designer clothes immediately setting them apart from the laid-back vibes of the Outer Banks. They exchange a look, smirking as they grab their bags and head toward the house. The front door swings open, and the energy shifts as they enter, their presence palpable.

Rafe’s Confessional

Rafe leans back in the confessional chair, an unlit cigarette dangling between his fingers. He smirks at the camera, exuding cocky arrogance.

Rafe: "Name’s Rafe Cameron. Twenty-four, born and bred Kook royalty. If you don’t know what a Kook is, let me educate you. We’re the elite, the ones who run this place. The Pogues? They’re the bottom-feeders. The ones who clean our boats and beg for scraps. It’s not a rivalry. It’s reality."

He pauses, his smirk turning colder.

Rafe: "My dad, Ward Cameron, recently passed. Rest in peace, Dad." He presses a hand to his chest mockingly, then lets it fall. "Left me a fortune, so, yeah, life’s looking pretty good for me. Oh, and as for this week? Let’s just say I hooked up with Y/N last week, but I’m keeping that little detail under wraps for now. Timing is everything."

He leans forward, staring into the camera with a look that’s both charming and unsettling.

Rafe: "This week’s gonna be fun—for me."

Topper’s Confessional

Topper sits in the confessional chair, his posture relaxed but his tone serious.

Topper: "Topper Thornton. Twenty-three. Born and raised in Figure Eight. Some people think I’m just a trust-fund kid who parties too much, but there’s more to me than that."

He adjusts his sunglasses, sighing.

Topper: "So, yeah, Sarah and I broke up six months ago. It was mutual, but honestly? I think it’s the break we both needed. That said..." He pauses, his eyes narrowing slightly. "I’m here to win her back. I know she’s with John B, but let’s be real—what they have isn’t serious. It’s a phase. She’ll come around. She always does."

He leans back, smirking faintly.

Topper: "This week’s about showing Sarah who she really belongs with. Me."

Back in the house, Rafe and Topper walk into the main living area, their presence impossible to ignore. Y/N and JJ are still joking by the staircase, while Sarah and John B stand off to the side, their conversation interrupted by the new arrivals. Everyone goes quiet as the tension in the room skyrockets.

Rafe: Grinning as he surveys the group. "Well, well, well. Looks like the gang’s all here."

The camera pans to Sarah, her jaw tightening as she glances at John B. Y/N’s eyes dart between Rafe and JJ, sensing the brewing storm. JJ’s posture stiffens, his eyes narrowing at Rafe, while Topper’s gaze zeroes in on Sarah, his confident smirk unshaken.

Topper: Casually, with a slight edge. "Hey, Sarah. Long time no see."

Sarah: Her voice tight, controlled. "Not long enough."

The tension is thick, the air charged with unspoken words and unresolved history. The camera lingers on the group, capturing the shifting dynamics and subtle glares before cutting to black.

Y/N’s Secret Gets Hinted At

Upstairs, Sarah closes the door to their shared bedroom and leans against it dramatically.

Sarah: "Okay, bestie, what’s up? Why are you dodging Rafe like he’s a pop quiz?"

Y/N: "What? I’m not dodging anyone."

She starts unpacking her bag, purposefully looking down to avoid Sarah’s gaze. Sarah raises an eyebrow, crossing her arms.

Sarah: "Girl. You’re giving off major 'I did something dumb' energy. Spill."

Y/N groans, dropping onto the bed.

Y/N: "It’s not even a thing, okay? It happened once, and it was a mistake."

Sarah gasps, eyes wide.

Sarah: "Wait... are you telling me you hooked up with my brother?"

Y/N quickly shushes her, frantically waving her hands.

Y/N: "Keep your voice down! Do you want them to hear?"

Sarah flops onto the bed beside her, looking both shocked and intrigued.

Sarah: "First of all, ew. Second of all, why didn’t you tell me?! Third—wait, no—why Rafe?!"

Y/N: "I don’t know, okay? It was tequila, bad decisions, and... I don’t know. He was just... there."

Sarah sits up, giving her a pointed look.

Sarah: "That man is like a walking red flag, Y/N. Does JJ know?"

Y/N: "No, and he’s not going to. It’s not like it meant anything."

Sarah squints at her like she doesn’t quite believe her but eventually sighs.

Sarah: "Alright, fine. Your secret’s safe with me. But if this blows up, don’t say I didn’t warn you."

Y/N buries her face in her hands.

Y/N: "It’s my birthday. Can’t the universe give me a break?"

Kiara’s Arrival

Their conversation is cut short by the sound of a car door slamming. The camera cuts to Kiara stepping out of her car, her vibe effortlessly cool in an oversized hoodie, ripped jeans, and sneakers. She waves at the camera with a cheeky grin.

Kiara (Confessional): "Sup, I’m Kiara. I’m 22, full-time Pogue, part-time shit-stirrer. I’m here to celebrate Y/N, keep it chill, and maybe bring some chaos. 'Cause, let’s be real, what’s a trip without a little drama?"

Back at the house, Kiara pushes open the door and shouts:

Kiara: "Where’s the birthday girl?!"

Y/N and Sarah head downstairs. Y/N grins, running over to hug Kiara.

Y/N: "Kiara! Finally, someone I actually like."

Kiara: "Happy birthday, babe! Ready to make this week unforgettable?"

Kiara’s gaze shifts to Sarah, her smile turning into a tight-lipped smirk.

Kiara: "Sarah."

Sarah: "Kiara."

The air thickens as the two exchange icy nods. Y/N sighs, stepping between them.

Y/N: "Okay, can we not? It’s my birthday. Please just act like adults for one week?"

Kiara shrugs, throwing an arm over Y/N’s shoulder.

Kiara: "Fine by me. As long as she doesn’t start anything, we’re good."

Sarah: "Trust me, I was about to say the same thing."

Y/N groans, muttering under her breath:

Y/N: "Y’all are exhausting."

The camera lingers on the tension as Kiara grabs her bag and heads upstairs to claim her bed. She passes by Rafe and Topper in the kitchen, pointedly ignoring Rafe’s cocky smirk. The scene ends with JJ watching everything from the corner, his fists clenched as the tension in the house continues to rise.

Pope and Cleo’s Arrival

The camera cuts to Pope and Cleo arriving in a sleek black SUV. Pope gets out first, adjusting his backpack with a confident but relaxed smile. Cleo follows, hopping out and glancing around curiously.

Pope (Confessional): "Hey, I’m Pope. I’m 21, and I’m here to keep the peace... or at least try to. I’m in college at USC on a full scholarship, which is where I met Cleo. She’s my ride-or-die. Bringing her along is kinda like introducing my family to my friends, so... we’ll see how that goes."

The camera shifts to Cleo, tossing her long braids over her shoulder and grinning mischievously.

Cleo (Confessional): "Hi, I’m Cleo. I’m 22, and this is my first time meeting Pope’s OBX crew. I’ve heard some wild stories, so I’m excited—and a little nervous—to see what the hype’s about. Oh, and yeah, I go to USC too. Go Trojans or whatever."

Inside the house, the group hears the door open, and Pope’s voice echoes:

Pope: "What’s up, OBX?!"

Y/N rushes to greet them, hugging Pope tightly before turning to Cleo.

Y/N: "Cleo! Finally, someone I’ve been dying to meet."

Cleo smiles, pulling Y/N into a warm hug.

Cleo: "Happy birthday, girl! Pope’s been hyping you up nonstop."

Pope grins, slinging an arm around Cleo.

Pope: "I only tell the truth."

JJ (from the kitchen): "Yo, Pope! About time. We were starting to think you bailed."

Pope: "Wouldn’t miss this for the world, man."

The Birthday Shot

The group gathers downstairs at the dining room island, where JJ has lined up tequila shots. Y/N stands in the middle, glowing as everyone crowds around her. JJ grabs his shot glass and clears his throat.

JJ: "Alright, alright, everyone shut up for a sec. This is for Y/N. The realest one I know, the only person who can put up with all of us, and... the birthday queen. Cheers to 21!"

The group cheers, lifting their glasses, but before anyone can drink, Rafe cuts in.

Rafe: "Wait, hold up. I gotta say something too."

Everyone groans, but Rafe smirks, holding his shot glass like he owns the place.

Rafe: "To Y/N. The baddest in the room. The only person who’s ever been able to handle me, and trust me, that’s no small feat. You deserve everything good in life, even if you make... interesting choices sometimes."

His gaze lingers on Y/N, a smirk playing on his lips. The group exchanges awkward glances, sensing the weight of his words. Before anyone can react, Kiara steps in.

Kiara: "To Y/N. The real MVP. The only reason I’m putting up with all these people. Here’s to a week of unforgettable memories, good energy, and no drama."

The group laughs and cheers louder this time, finally taking their shots. The camera pans across everyone’s faces, capturing the tension that still lingers despite the toast.

Y/N’s Confessional

Y/N (Confessional): "Yeah, so that toast? A little cringe. Rafe just loves to stir the pot, and I already know he’s gonna push someone’s buttons. I need to talk to him and make sure he’s on his best behavior because I swear if he starts something, it’s not gonna end well—for anyone."

The camera cuts back to the group as they finish their shots. Cleo nudges Pope, whispering something that makes him laugh. JJ eyes Rafe from across the room, his jaw clenched. Meanwhile, Sarah is scrolling on her phone, clearly trying to ignore Kiara’s presence. The tension is palpable, and the week is just getting started.

The next scene opens with the roommates lounging around the kitchen, debating what to barbeque for dinner. The countertops are scattered with an assortment of snacks, condiments, and grocery bags.

Pope leans on the island, surveying the options. "Alright, we’ve got burgers, chicken, hot dogs, and veggie burgers. What’s the move?"

"Veggie burgers, obviously," Kiara interjects with a raised eyebrow.

"I say wings," Sarah suggests, holding up a pack of chicken. "I’ll whip up a marinade."

"I got the grill," JJ announces, puffing out his chest. "It’s basically my calling."

"Yeah, right," Kiara snorts. "You’re banned after last summer. Remember? You almost burned my dad’s dock down."

"It was windy!" JJ shoots back, hands up in defense.

Rafe, leaning against the counter, smirks. "I’ll handle the bonfire. At least I know what I’m doing."

"Yeah, ‘cause playing with fire is your whole personality," JJ mutters, his voice low but cutting.

Before Rafe can respond, the kitchen door swings open, and the producer steps in, casually dressed but commanding attention with a loud clap. "Alright, everyone, can I get you to meet me in the living room? We’ve got a quick meeting."

The roommates exchange puzzled looks but shuffle into the living room, taking their spots on the oversized sectional. JJ quickly slides into the seat next to Y/N, throwing his arm casually over the back of the couch. Rafe, arriving a second too late, lingers behind them, his jaw tightening as he glares at JJ. The camera lingers on Rafe’s expression, emphasizing the tension.

The producer stands before them, clipboard in hand, his tone both cheerful and authoritative. "Okay, so here’s the deal. This week is all about bonding—getting to know each other in real life, without distractions."

"Distractions?" Y/N tilts her head, already suspicious.

The producer smirks. "Yup. That means we’ll be taking your phones for the week."

A chorus of groans ripples through the group.

"You can’t be serious," Sarah complains. "What am I supposed to do without my socials?"

"It’s for the experience," the producer explains. "No texts, no calls, no social media. Just you, your roommates, and the art of conversation."

JJ slouches dramatically, crossing his arms. "This feels illegal."

"You’ll live," Pope quips, shooting JJ a teasing grin. "Just pretend it’s the '90s."

Kiara rolls her eyes. "Or the 1890s. Back when people had actual survival skills."

"Yeah, great sales pitch," Rafe deadpans, crossing his arms behind Y/N and JJ.

The producer chuckles. "Trust me, it’ll be worth it. You’ll get your phones back at the end of the week. For now, just focus on each other. Deal?"

Y/N sighs theatrically. "Fine, but if I miss an important text, it’s on you."

"Noted," the producer says with a smile. "Alright, everyone, hand them over."

One by one, the roommates reluctantly deposit their phones into a box held by the producer. The mood is a mix of resignation and apprehension.

As the producer exits, the camera lingers on the group’s awkward silence. JJ taps Y/N’s shoulder playfully, breaking the tension. "Alright, so... who’s ready to bond without Twitter?"

Rafe’s sharp gaze on the two of them doesn’t go unnoticed as the screen cuts to black.

As the group gathers around the grill, a warm glow from the setting sun reflects off the ocean, casting a serene atmosphere over the beach. The bonfire is set up in the distance, ready for the night ahead. The sound of sizzling meat on the grill fills the air as everyone chips in to help with the cooking.

JJ is the first to take charge, tossing some burgers on the grill with exaggerated flair. "Whoever says you can’t cook a decent meal on a beach is seriously underestimating the power of my grilling skills," he declares with a grin.

Sarah, handing over a platter of veggies, raises an eyebrow. "You sure about that, JJ? You nearly set the kitchen on fire last week."

Y/N chuckles, tossing a bottle of ketchup at him. "If I end up with a burnt burger, I’m blaming you."

JJ catches it effortlessly and winks. "Don’t worry, I’ve got it covered. You’re gonna love it."

Meanwhile, Cleo is in charge of setting up the drinks by the bonfire. "Who’s in for a drink? I’ve got the good stuff!" she calls out, her voice full of mischief. "But remember, it’s a limited supply."

Kiara, having a blast as she passes a bowl of chips to Pope, leans over. "Do you think the producer’s gonna try and turn us into a drama show with all this phone confiscation nonsense?"

Pope shakes his head, laughing. "If they do, they’re in for a surprise. None of us are easy to manipulate."

Rafe, though quieter, catches Pope’s comment with a smirk, the glint in his eyes giving away his amusement. He cracks a beer open, eyeing the group as if evaluating the situation. "I think this whole thing’s gonna get real interesting," he mutters, almost to himself.

nside the small, dimly lit confessional room, John B sits in front of the camera, a relaxed grin spreading across his face as he leans back slightly in the chair. The soft hum of the room’s air conditioning is the only sound for a moment, before he starts speaking to the camera, his voice light but sincere.

"Alright, so... it’s been a bit of a weird start, not gonna lie," he begins, running a hand through his hair. "Phones? Gone. But honestly? It's kinda been a blessing in disguise. Everyone’s tipsy, everyone’s laughing, and the vibes are... good, you know? Like, there’s definitely some tension, but right now? Everyone’s chilling, having a good time. It’s like we’ve already forgotten why we were even bothered in the first place."

He pauses for a second, smiling to himself. "I just hope this keeps up, honestly. I mean, we’re all stuck here for a week together, and if we can keep this... positive energy going, maybe this trip won’t be so bad after all. But, who knows? In reality TV, things can change on a dime." He shrugs, giving the camera a playful smirk. "Fingers crossed it stays this way."

John B leans forward, his grin widening. "Anyway, I’m here for the good times, and right now, we’re definitely having those. Let’s just hope that lasts." He winks at the camera, and the screen cuts back to the group enjoying themselves around the bonfire, the sound of laughter carrying over the breeze.

Back by the grill, the laughter continues as Sarah expertly flips a couple of burgers, teasing JJ. "See, I told you I could do this better than you."

"Okay, okay, but only because I’m distracted by someone," JJ responds, glancing at Y/N with a playful wink.

Y/N rolls their eyes, not able to hide their smile. "Sure, blame it on me. You’ll be the one running for seconds once they’re done."

The group continues to laugh and joke around as they serve up the food, the mood lightening with every passing minute. As they gather around the bonfire, drinks in hand, the initial tension begins to dissolve. They all settle into the warmth of the fire and the flickering light, realizing that this trip might not be so bad after all.

John B glances around at the group, nodding to himself. "Yeah, this could be the start of something... interesting."

And as the camera pulls back, the sounds of laughter and lighthearted banter echo across the beach, the night just beginning.

Just as the laughter dies down, Topper stands up from where he’d been lounging on a nearby log, holding up a bottle in one hand. He flashes a mischievous grin.

"Alright, alright, enough with the Pope stories," he says, his voice carrying a playful tone. "How about we spice things up a little with a game? Truth or drink, anyone?"

The group exchanges amused glances, intrigued by the suggestion.

Rafe chuckles, leaning forward. "Now we’re talking. This is how you get to know people."

Kiara, already sipping from her drink, raises an eyebrow. "Oh, this is gonna get interesting."

"Alright," Topper continues, settling back into his seat with the bottle. "I’ll start. Y/N, truth or drink?"

Y/N looks around the group for a moment before deciding, "I’ll go with truth."

Topper’s grin widens. "Alright, spill. Which roommates have you kissed?"

The group falls silent for a second, the tension hanging in the air as all eyes turn to Y/N, who takes a slow sip from their drink. They set the glass down, not missing a beat.

"Well," Y/N begins, a teasing glint in their eyes, "I’ve kissed all the boys at some point... except for you, Topper."

A collective laugh erupts from the group, some people shaking their heads in disbelief, others just enjoying the unexpected honesty. JJ raises his glass with a playful grin. "Guess I’m the favorite," he says, leaning back confidently.

Topper shrugs, clearly amused. "Alright, I’ll take that as a compliment. But now it’s your turn, JJ."

The playful mood shifts slightly as Rafe suddenly leans in, an eyebrow arched, his tone a bit more pointed. "So, JJ," he starts, eyes locking onto him, "who was that one girl you hooked up with last month? You know, the one you’ve been dodging talking about."

The air grows a little colder, the group sensing the shift. JJ’s smile falters for just a second, his eyes flicking toward the bottle of liquor.

He takes a deep breath, then grabs the bottle and pours himself a drink, not saying a word. His eyes briefly meet Rafe’s, but instead of responding, he tips the bottle back, taking a long swig.

The room falls into an awkward silence for a moment, the tension between the two palpable. Finally, JJ slams the bottle down on the ground with a lighthearted chuckle. "Alright, moving on," he says, clearly avoiding the question. "Who’s next?"

The group hesitates for just a moment before the tension begins to dissolve. Kiara nudges Pope, forcing a smile. "Okay, Pope, truth or drink?"

The camera lingers on the group, their laughter hesitant but building once more as the game continues, the vibes slowly lightening again, despite the brief awkwardness that lingers in the air.

The scene opens with the group gathered around the bonfire, now buzzing with activity as they begin the task of cleaning up after dinner. Plates clink together, and the smell of grilled food still lingers in the air as everyone works together, washing dishes and tidying up the space. There's a lighthearted mood—until Topper, wiping his hands on a dish towel, casually leans back and says something that cuts through the buzz of conversation like a knife.

"You know," Topper says, his voice a bit too loud for the moment, "Sarah and I used to do this all the time. You know, go on trips like this. Good times."

John B freezes for a split second, his hand tightening around the dish he’s drying, his jaw clenching visibly. The smile on his face falters, replaced by a tight-lipped grimace as his eyes flick toward Sarah. He says nothing, but the tension in the air is palpable.

Sarah, still focused on drying a glass, suddenly goes rigid, her face hardening. She doesn’t even look at Topper when she snaps, "Topper, shut up."

The words hang in the air, cutting the moment short. The group falls silent for a heartbeat before the sound of dishes clattering resumes, but the mood has shifted. The easy camaraderie is replaced with an uncomfortable energy, a quiet discomfort that seems to settle over everyone.

As the group begins to move on with the task, Rafe sees an opportunity to stir the pot further. Watching the tension play out, he casually gets up from the table, a sly smile tugging at his lips. He looks toward Y/N, who’s distracted by the cake preparations. Slowly, he approaches them, his voice smooth as he addresses them in a low, almost conspiratorial tone.

"Hey," Rafe starts, leaning slightly toward Y/N. "You seemed a lot happier last week when it was just... us." His eyes flicker knowingly, leaving the implication in the air without outright saying it. "It’s kinda funny how things change, huh?"

Y/N, caught off guard by his insinuation, stiffens for a moment, but quickly recovers. They force a smile, unsure of how to respond. "What’s your point, Rafe?"

Rafe shrugs casually, his smile remaining almost too sweet. "Just making an observation. You looked like you were having a good time back then. I wonder what changed."

The weight of his words hangs over Y/N as they try to ignore the growing unease bubbling inside. The tension between the group is palpable now, and Rafe’s subtle mind games are only adding fuel to the fire.

The camera captures the way Y/N’s gaze darts around the group, noticing the lingering discomfort, especially between John B and Sarah. They feel the weight of the situation bearing down on them, and despite the surprise birthday cake still in the works, it’s clear that this vacation has become anything but relaxing.

As the group gathers around the table to set up the cake, the atmosphere is thick with unspoken words and unresolved tension, leaving everyone wondering just how much longer the fragile peace will hold.

The scene cuts to the afterglow of the birthday celebration. The group is gathered around the bonfire, the flickering flames illuminating their faces as they finish singing "Happy Birthday" to Y/N. Laughter fills the air as Y/N blows out the candle on the cake, the group cheering and clapping. But despite the cheerful atmosphere, Y/N feels a sudden urge to step away, to get a moment of peace.

She makes her way inside the house, finding the hallway empty, the sounds of the party fading into the distance. Leaning against the wall just a few feet away is Rafe, his posture relaxed but his eyes sharp, as if he’d been waiting for this moment. Y/N stops in front of him, and for a moment, the only sound is the distant hum of the party.

Rafe pushes off from the wall, standing so close to Y/N that she can smell his cologne—deep and musky, with a faint hint of something else that makes her heart race just a little faster. His presence is magnetic, and for a split second, it’s easy to fall back into their old rhythm.

"You look good tonight," Rafe says with a smile, his tone smooth, almost too casual. He steps a little closer, his breath almost brushing against Y/N’s skin. "It’s funny, you know? I never forget how easy it is to fall back into this." He gestures vaguely between them, the unspoken history hanging heavy in the air.

Y/N glances at him, her heartbeat picking up speed, but she’s careful not to let it show. She crosses her arms over her chest, a slight frown pulling at the corners of her lips. "I’m not doing this with you, Rafe," she says quietly but firmly. "I don’t want any drama."

Rafe’s smile falters just for a moment, but he quickly masks it with a shrug. "Drama?" he repeats, almost mockingly. "Come on, we both know what we’ve had before. It’s nothing but fun, right?" His gaze never leaves Y/N, and there’s an intensity in his eyes that only adds to the tension. "I was just saying, I’ve missed this—us."

Y/N swallows, resisting the pull of his gaze. "I really like JJ," she says, her voice softer, almost apologetic, but steady. "I’m not going down that road again with you."

Rafe doesn’t respond immediately, his jaw tightening just the slightest bit. The words sting more than he lets on, but he keeps his cool, a forced smile creeping onto his face. "JJ, huh?" he says, the hint of sarcasm in his voice, though the bitterness remains hidden. "Well, I guess you’ve got your type."

There’s a flicker in Rafe’s eyes, something dark and possessive, but it disappears just as quickly as it appears. He tilts his head, his voice lower now, teasing. "It’s not like it ever stopped being easy between us. You sure you want to play it that way?"

Y/N stands her ground, feeling the weight of the unspoken things between them. "I’m not playing games with you, Rafe," she replies, voice firm but with a quiet undercurrent of frustration.

For a moment, neither of them speaks. The air is thick with tension, the past between them lingering, but neither one willing to push too far. Finally, after what feels like an eternity, Rafe lets out a breath, his expression unreadable.

He steps forward, closing the small gap between them, and pulls Y/N into a hug, brief but tight. It’s almost too easy to fall back into this—into the familiarity of his touch, the weight of his body pressing against hers. Y/N hesitates for a moment before returning the hug, her arms encircling his waist, though it feels almost instinctive, like it’s something they’ve done a thousand times before.

Rafe pulls away slightly, looking down at her with a faint, almost sad smile. "You’re not gonna tell him, are you?" he asks, his voice low and casual, but with an underlying question that hangs between them.

Y/N just shakes her head, not trusting herself to speak. She can feel the tension building again, the space between them filled with a thousand things left unsaid.

"Guess we’ll just have to leave it at that," Rafe murmurs, his voice quiet, eyes lingering on Y/N a moment longer before he steps back. His expression is unreadable, but the distance between them feels heavier now, like something is shifting, something irreversible.

With a final look, Rafe turns and walks away, leaving Y/N standing in the hallway, her thoughts swirling. The hug lingers in her mind, the heat of Rafe’s presence still pressing against her skin, and she realizes that while the conversation is over, the complexity of her feelings is far from simple.

The camera lingers on Y/N as she stands in the hallway, her thoughts still heavy after the conversation with Rafe. A moment later, Rafe walks past her, heading back to the kitchen with a purposeful stride. He doesn’t look back, but the smirk on his face suggests something is brewing, and Y/N can’t shake the feeling that something's off.

Inside the kitchen, the group is still buzzing with energy, the sounds of laughter and playful banter drifting through the house. Meanwhile, Rafe pulls Topper aside, his voice low but urgent.

"Hey," Rafe starts, his gaze scanning the room quickly before he locks eyes with Topper. "I’ve got something that’ll make the night a little more interesting. You in?"

Topper, looking intrigued but cautious, raises an eyebrow. "What are you talking about?"

Without another word, Rafe motions for Topper to follow him, and they slip out of the kitchen, walking down the hallway towards the bathroom. The sounds of the group in the next room grow fainter as the camera follows them, the atmosphere in the house shifting as they enter the bathroom.

As the door clicks shut behind them, the camera’s angle shifts slightly, picking up the faint sound of sniffing through their mics—enough to hint at what’s really going on inside. The camera lingers on the bathroom door for a few seconds, allowing the tension to build before cutting back to the rest of the group.

Meanwhile, the roommates in the living room are oblivious to the shift in energy as they continue playing a lively game of Uno. Everyone is laughing, teasing one another, and the playful arguments escalate over who’s cheating and who’s got the best hand. JJ is animated, gesturing wildly at Cleo as she steals another card, while Kiara gives Pope a look of mock suspicion, accusing him of stacking the deck.

The room feels light and carefree, but then the door creaks open, and Rafe and Topper return, both of them noticeably jittery, their energy somehow more frantic. The camera catches Rafe’s eyes darting around the room, his smile a little too wide, while Topper shifts uncomfortably, avoiding eye contact with anyone.

Y/N, sitting across from them, catches the odd behavior almost immediately. She narrows her eyes, side-eyeing the pair as they try to blend back in with the group. Something about their sudden restlessness doesn’t sit right with her.

"Everything okay with you two?" Y/N asks, her voice casual, but there's an edge to it. She watches them both closely, her intuition already on high alert.

Rafe’s smile falters for a fraction of a second before he grins again, but it’s a bit too forced. "Yeah, just a little… bathroom break. You know how it is," he says, his words coming out too quickly, and Topper nods in agreement, though he looks less convinced.

Y/N doesn’t buy it. Her gaze flickers between them, but she says nothing more, instead focusing on the game at hand. Still, the unease she feels lingers in the back of her mind, and she can’t shake the feeling that something has shifted in the atmosphere, something no one else has noticed.

The group resumes their game, but the tension is palpable, the playful mood slightly dimmed as Y/N glances from one of them to the other, trying to ignore the growing suspicion gnawing at her.

The evening grows late, and the atmosphere is electric with tension and laughter as the group continues to play games. Music plays softly in the background, but there’s a palpable shift in energy. Everyone seems to be loosening up, the drinks flowing freely, but Y/N can feel the weight of the subtle animosity building between Rafe and JJ.

At one point, JJ, clearly trying to lighten the mood, hands Y/N a drink, flashing her a smile that feels a little too friendly.

"Here you go," JJ says, holding the drink out to her with a playful grin.

Y/N reaches out to take it, but before she can, Rafe steps in, leaning casually against the arm of the couch and holding up a drink of his own. "Actually," he says, voice dripping with smugness, "I made this one. It’s better."

Y/N hesitates, glancing between Rafe’s drink and the one in her hand. JJ’s eyes narrow as he steps forward, his tone sharp. "Oh yeah, definitely trust a drink from this guy," he sneers, a hint of sarcasm lacing his words.

Rafe smirks, never one to back down from a challenge. "Jealous much?" he taunts, his voice smooth and mocking, the edge of competition clear in his words.

The group falls silent for a moment, the tension palpable. Y/N can feel the heat rising between them, and before she can even respond, JJ throws a quick, biting remark. "You’ve always been a joke, Rafe."

Rafe’s smirk falters, the jabs hitting harder than expected, and before anyone can intervene, the argument escalates. JJ steps forward aggressively, his face reddening with frustration. "You think you’re so much better than everyone else," he spits out, his voice low and dangerous. "You don’t even belong here."

"You don’t even know what I’m capable of," Rafe retorts, his eyes flashing with anger.

Without warning, JJ’s fist flies through the air, connecting with Rafe’s jaw in a brutal punch that echoes through the room. The impact sends Rafe stumbling back, but he doesn’t fall. His bloodied lip splits open, a trickle of red staining his chin. The room erupts into chaos, everyone scrambling to intervene as the physical fight between the two men intensifies.

Y/N watches in shock as Rafe wipes the blood from his lip with a slow, almost amused expression. The fight spirals out of control, but Y/N steps forward, her voice cutting through the chaos. "Stop it, both of you!" she demands, her tone harsh as she locks eyes with Rafe.

The camera focuses on Rafe’s face, his bloodied expression somehow matching the twisted, dark smile creeping across his lips. He looks at Y/N, his voice low and mocking. "Really? You’re disgusted by me, but you came twice." His words cut deep, and the room goes silent, everyone holding their breath as the weight of what he just said hangs in the air.

Y/N’s face flushes with anger, her eyes flashing with pure disgust. "You sicken me," she spits out, her voice trembling with fury.

JJ, enraged by the comment, charges at Rafe again, but Pope and Kiara are quick to grab hold of him, holding him back with all their strength. JJ struggles, fighting against their grip, but Pope and Kiara are firm, keeping him from lunging at Rafe once more.

Rafe stands there, his bloody face a picture of sick satisfaction as he watches JJ struggle to break free. His smile widens, a cruel, almost victorious look in his eyes as he surveys the chaos he’s caused.

The camera zooms in on Rafe’s face, bloodied and twisted with that unsettling grin, while Y/N watches him, still seething, her hands shaking with the anger she can’t quite release. The fight, though momentarily halted, lingers in the air, the tension so thick that it’s impossible to ignore.

The group remains frozen, the weight of the unspoken words hanging between them all as the night feels like it’s teetering on the edge of something far darker.

Next time on OBX: After Dark...

The screen fades in from black, showing a quick montage of the tense aftermath from the night before. Each roommate speaks in their own confessional, offering their thoughts on the explosive events.

JJ’s Confessional: "Man, things got way too heated last night. Rafe’s just... a walking headache, and I don’t know how much longer I can keep my cool with him around."

Kiara’s Confessional: "Honestly, I’ve never seen the group like that. I thought we were here to have fun, but now it feels like a ticking time bomb."

Pope’s Confessional: "It’s getting out of hand. We’ve gotta stop this before someone gets seriously hurt. I mean, JJ throwing a punch—what’s next?"

Cleo’s Confessional: "I hate that I’m caught in the middle of this mess. I just wanted a good time... but I don’t think anyone’s having fun anymore."

Sarah’s Confessional: "Rafe and JJ… that was wild. But if I’m being honest, I’m kind of over the whole drama. Maybe I should’ve never let it go this far."

Topper’s Confessional: "Yeah, last night was intense. But honestly? It’s just gonna get worse from here. I’m not here to play nice anymore."

Rafe’s Confessional: "Everyone thinks they can control the situation. But I’ll tell you one thing—nobody gets to call the shots but me. This is just the beginning."

The screen flashes forward to the next day, showing Topper and Rafe exchanging sly grins as they invite a group of girls into the house. The camera zooms in on the shocked faces of the other roommates as they watch from the kitchen, their anger simmering just beneath the surface.

Y/N’s Confessional: "Topper and Rafe really think they can just bring people here like that? It’s like they don’t even care how the rest of us feel."

John B’s Confessional: "This isn’t a frat party. What are they trying to prove? We don’t need more chaos."

The screen cuts to Kiara and Sarah in the middle of an intense argument, their voices raised.

Kiara (yelling): "What, that you're a liar?"

Sarah (snapping back): "No, that you’re a shit-talking bitch!"

The room goes silent for a moment, followed by an exaggerated "Oooh!" from the rest of the group. The other roommates exchange shocked glances, their eyes wide at the sudden escalation.

Pope (whispering to Cleo): "Did that just happen?"

Cleo (eyes wide): "I think we’re about to see a whole new level of chaos."

The camera zooms in on Kiara and Sarah, both standing with fury in their eyes as the tension builds. The other roommates exchange nervous glances, unsure of how this argument will play out.

Coming up... The screen cuts to black as the voiceover echoes with suspense.

"Who will be pushed to their breaking point? And will the tension finally explode?"

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