#he’s really inspiring and to me the perfect role model

[hyunpic]

daily gifs until hyune day: what can’t he do? — talented singer-songwriter, rapper, dancer, choreographer, producer, model. some other talents including: swimming, football, painting/drawing, pottery & photography: “the moment i realize, oh, i can love this too! my world expands. if i keep discovering new things that i enjoy, there’s no end to it. who knows? maybe three years from now, i’ll be completely obsessed with fishing. just imagine how happy i’d be watching the fish swimming in the water! thinking about what i might come to love in the future makes me look forward to tomorrow a little more”

[sleepless-crows]

i love choi yeonjun so much

[l0vergirlwrites]

i’m your favourite ; eddie munson

synopsis: eddie’s insecurities always make him question whether or not he really deserves you, but he knows he can count on you to continuously prove him wrong.

warnings: mentions of insecurities in terms of looks & relationship dynamics, few swear words, fem!reader in mind, reader has a mom, dad & little sister, established relationship, lil heated moments

note: inspired by role model’s song “scumbag” (if you haven’t listened to his latest album “kansas anymore” go do it!!!)

“i’m a train wreck, i’m a cigarette. i’m the side that no one’s rooting for. but you stand by me.”

“eds? did you hear me?”.

quickly blinking his eyes, eddie took in his surroundings & came back to reality. pressing a faint kiss to your hair, he nodded his head.

you both were having a movie night at his trailer with blankets & popcorn on his couch. you both weren’t super picky, so the random cable channel playing horror movies did the trick.

“sorry—zoned out. what were you saying, baby?” he tried to recover from his mere moment of weakness, his arm tightening around your shoulders to pull you closer to his chest.

“i was just wondering…” you teetered, “would you wanna come over tomorrow?” you nerves were taking over now that his attention was fully on you.

“it’s my little sister’s birthday & my parents are doing a barbecue to celebrate—it’s okay if you don’t wanna come, i get it,” you started to ramble, fiddling with the material of eddie’s shirt you wore.

“i just thought it’d be nice for you to meet my family, y’know? b-but you can totally say no—it’s not a big deal” you assured him, but you secretly hoped he’d say yes.

when eddie didn’t answer immediately, you lifted your head from his chest to get a better view of his face, seeing a look of uncertainty on his features. it made you worry if asking this was too much.

“you want me to your family? a-are you sure?”

nodding your head quick, your hand rose up to rest on his cheek, thumb smoothing over his skin. “i’m sure,” you smiled once you saw eddie’s face soften, his doe eyes twinkling under the living room lamps.

“you’re my favourite person, eddie. plus, my mom has been dying to meet you since our first date” your cheeks felt warm at that little omission, & you could see a pink hue bloom on eddie’s.

pressing a kiss to the palm of your hand, eddie pushed aside his insecurities for a moment. “okay,” he exhaled, “i’d love to come over”.

pushing yourself up on the couch cushions to thank him with a kiss, eddie’s hands tightened on your waist, sighing into your mouth the longer your lips were locked to his.

“by the way,” he pecked the corner of your mouth. “you’re my favourite too”.

**~*~*~~*~**~*~~*~*~**~**~*~~*~*

tomorrow had come & eddie was freaking the hell out.

his room had become a larger mess than it usually was, turning into a something that looked like a hurricane with all the clothes thrown everywhere & on everything. all morning, he had tried finding the perfect outfit to wear that would be acceptable in the eyes of your parents, but nothing seemed to work.

so for the last ten minutes, he sat against the edge of his bed with his fingers tangled in his lion’s mane, eyes pinched & breath heavy in frustration.

at least, that was until his landline phone began to ring.

“hello?” he spoke into the mic, voice dropping with defeat.

“eds? what’s wrong?” your voice was concerned, only causing eddie’s breath to hitch.

“nothing baby, it’s all good”.

you scoffed. “sure don’t sound like it”.

rolling his eyes playfully, he fully laid out on his bed, back growing uncomfortable from all the clothes sprawled across it.

“are you gonna tell me what’s wrong or continue to mope about it?” you chided, only making him sigh.

“i have nothing good to wear”. the statement made him seem pathetic in his eyes.

tilting your head (you knew he could tell your movements), you couldn’t help but have a small smirk on your face while you twisted the phone cord between your fingers.

“now i don’t believe that, baby” now you heard him scoff.

“your parents are gonna think i’m a freak—everybody does. i-i can’t help it”. he spoke softer now, insecurities flowing out of him & overtaking his being because he didn’t want to be made a fool out of.

he wouldn’t be able to survive knowing your family doesn’t approve of him.

& your heart drops at the mere thought of it.

“eddie,” you spoke, trying to reel him back in from the negative parts of his mind. “no one is going to think you’re a freak—you’re so much more than that stupid label”.

he continued to stare up at the client as you spoke, his chest growing heavy with anxiety.

“they’re going to love you because you’re kind, have good humour, extremely helpful, caring, handsome,” you could hear him let out a huff at the last word.

“… & because i love you”.

you both haven’t said those three words yet since you started dating a few months ago. so, now was the first time.

“y-you what?”

fear overtook you now, your heartbeat loud in your ears. did i say it too early you thought to yourself.

“i-i love you, eddie. i hope that’s okay” oh shit.

eddie almost dropped the phone from his hand, still somehow in shock that someone like you loved someone like him. he’s been known as trailer trash, a freak, a thrown out cigarette, a scumbag, a stain on the so called beauty of hawkins—he’s been torn down for too long.

but by the grace of god (or some other being or universe or whatever), you saw past all the tarnished scuffs on him.

it’s something he still can’t fully understand.

“eddie, i-i’m sorry if i just fucked everything—“

“i love you too. sorry it took me so long to say it”

his words took you by surprise, & you couldn’t help but laugh happily into the receiver.

“you don’t have to be sorry, you just have to come over & kiss me to seal the deal” you bit your lip at your coyness, hoping it’d be enough for him to pull through.

“i’ll see you in thirty, sweetheart” eddie said before ending the call, leaving you with a fluttering feeling in your chest. your head bumped into your pillow in a lovestruck haze, cheeks hurting from how hard were smiling.

you were so in love with that man.

**~~*~*~**~***~*~~**~*~**~*~*

you waited at the front door while the party festivities took place in the backyard, hearing your mom yell that the food was almost ready from the back door. you tapped your sandal clad foot eagerly, anxious for when the doorbell would finally ring.

& it hit you like bricks when it chimed in your ears.

your hand (which was slightly clammy from nerves) held the doorknob, twisting it slowly until the door was open & your lovely boy was in view.

he dressed in casual attire consisting of a dark red t-shirt, dark blue jeans, & a new pair of sneakers he got with steve the other day. he still wore his rings & guitar pick necklace, dawning those pearly whites of his with a grin when he saw you.

his hands were full, holding onto things with a claw like grip. in one, he held three small bouquets of flowers from the supermarket & his van keys. the other held a purple gift bag stuffed with white glittery tissue paper, the specks of glitter shining brightly in the mid afternoon sunlight.

“hey, baby” he said with a pep in his step, eying you up & down. you could tell he was still nervous, but he was trying his best to keep cool.

without missing a beat, your hands flew up to his face & you kissed him hard, taking him by surprise on your front door step. but who could blame you for doing such a thing after you both confessed your love over the phone?

“you’re gonna,” *kiss* “make me” *kiss* “drop everything”, he huffed, laughing into your lips when you refused to pull away initially.

“sorry,” you heaved. “just love you so much is all” you grinned harder at eddie’s flushed face.

“lemme put everything down & give you a proper one, yeah?”

you agreed, helping him inside your home for the first time, giving him a quick tour of the main floor as you headed to the kitchen to put the flowers in some water.

“my mom is a gonna get all sappy knowing you got us all flowers—thank you by the way” you pecked his cheek with a pop as you placed the flowers into three different vases.

placing the gift bag on the counter, eddie just shrugged nonchalantly. “well, it’s just what a gentleman does” he said, smirking when you smiled at him.

“yeah,” you made your way over to him, hands playing with the hair at the nape of his neck, chest pressing into his as his cold ring clad hands held your waist, squeezing it every few seconds.

“you really are the best” you leaned closer to him, lips just about to brush his.

“hmm, is that right?” his breath fanned your face, smelling like spearmint gum.

you could only nod, unable to resist the space anymore until he made the final dip forward, capturing your lips in his for a proper kiss where he could hold you close. it was slow, saying all the things you both wanted to say, while being sweet & soft & rewarding all at the same time.

“i love you” he breathed into your mouth, his thumbs fiddling with the smocked material on the lower back of your dress, being careful not to let them drift too low in case someone in your family caught him—& god forbid it’d be your father.

“i love you too” you murmured, pulling apart to laugh & smile & take all of him in like this.

you took a mental screenshot of him, safely storing it away in your brain’s memory box for later.

“so,” you patted his chest. “ready to meet everyone?” you asked, wiping away some of your lipgloss from his bottom lip while he sweetly tucked some of your hair behind your ear, fingers brushing over your earrings with a smile (because you’re wearing the ones he bought you).

eddie thought you tasted just as sweet as you looked.

“yeah,” he interlocked your fingers with his own, squeezing three times “now i am”.

“i’m a scumbag, i’m a scumbag (but you stand by me)”.

[sebscore]

rubyyy i have an idea for your gen-z driver series! when you are free, maybe you can write about when lil miss just got into f1 and had many people doubted her just for her to nail her rookie season like the goat sir Lewis Hamilton did in his. feel free to tweak it however you want. I just thought it would be cool to see more off the racing side of gen-z driver. :))))

and i really enjoy your writings, keep them coming but also don't stress out too much about them as well :)

WELCOME TO THE STRANGE WORLD

pairings: f1 grid x driver!reader 

warnings: sexism. swearing. based this one on the 2018 grid, cause I imagine her joining the grid that year. christian horner & helmut marko. 

author's note: this got me immediately inspired!! It's also the first time I tackle the racing aspect of the series so I hope it's a bit accurate and that it is enjoyable x

• • • • • • •

''Do you feel the pressure going into this week's race?'' The reporter asked her, a polite smile on his face. 

Y/N carefully adjusted the mic attached to her cheek. ''Uh, definitely,'' she nervously chuckled as it was her first F1 press conference, ''there have been a lot of reactions, both negative and positive, so I do feel a lot of eyes on me at the moment.'' 

To say that there had been a lot of reactions was an understatement. The announcement of the female race car driver joining the F1 grid had become the #1 topic on several social media platforms and even international news channels had broadcasted about the ''controversial'' arrival of the young woman. 

Various notable figures in the motorsport world had also voiced their opinion on the new face on the grid. There were many positive reactions, for example, Mercedes Team Principal Toto Wolff saying: ''It's a step in the right direction. Many young girls will see her race and get more interested in the sport, which will hopefully motivate them to start karting.'' 

Susie Wolff, former development driver for Williams, also showed her enthusiasm. ''I think Y/N is the perfect role model for all the young girls who watch F1 at home. We've been following her closely the last few years and she's proved that she can compete with the big guys, I'm very proud and I can't wait for her performances this season.'' 

Unfortunately, there had also been less positive feedback. Red Bull Motorsport advisor, Helmut Marko, had questioned whether she would be able to handle the ''physicalities'' the sport asked of a driver. ''I hope I'm wrong, but I wouldn't be surprised if she would be replaced by the second race.'' 

His Red Bull colleague, Christian Horner, had also made some sensitive comments about the young woman. He recalled his first meeting with her, stating he thought she was one of the grid girls and that it would be tough as she's ''entering a man's sport''. 

Y/N had been upset with key figures of the sport making such statements about her, but she had heard worse throughout her racing career. Men like Horner were stuck in old times. 

''Sebastian, how do you feel about a female joining F1?'' Both Y/N and Sebastian internally cringed at the rookie being referred to as a 'female', trying to not let it show on their faces. 

The German collected the right words before answering. ''I'm very happy that Y/N is sitting here next to us,'' he smiled at her, ''I think her being on the grid and competing alongside us, is going to bring a lot of positive changes that should've been happening a long time ago. I've known her for some years now, so maybe I'm biased, but I couldn't think of a better person joining the line-up.'' 

''Thank you.'' Y/N mumbled, grown shy by Sebastian's praises. He had been involved in her career since her humble karting beginnings, wanting to guide her as he knew a lot of people would try to stop her from flourishing in the sport. 

The journalist then put his focus on the other world champion sitting at the panel. ''Lewis, you share the same opinion as Sebastian?'' 

''I agree with Seb, it's nice to see that progress is being made in diversing the sport and she's here, because she deserves to be here.'' Lewis' answer showed his disagreement with the people who were convinced that the woman's arrival to F1 was nothing more than a statement to the FIA. 

Y/N wasn't ignorant and knew her claiming an F1 seat would bring a lot of publicity, not only to her, but her team as well. However, they wouldn't risk losing millions of euros, because they simply wanted to make a point that women can competitively drive as well. 

''I've seen her drive, we've all seen her drive and you can't deny that she has a huge talent.'' Lewis concluded his answer, sending a soft smile her way. 

The reporter who asked the question directed his attention back to the young woman. ''Y/N, it must be great to hear those positive words from such seasoned drivers.'' He said to her, his hands pointing towards the two World Champions. 

She shyly nodded her head, feeling the gazes of everyone in the room on her. ''Yeah, it's, uh,  very nice of them.'' 

''It's the truth.'' Sebastian chuckled. 

''That's P11 tomorrow, Y/N! Good job, we're proud of you over here.'' Her engineer announced over the radio, letting the driver know her qualifying session was over. 

She pressed her radio button. ''Thank you so much, guys! A good start!'' She enthusiastically exclaimed, delighted about her team being happy with quali. 

They had greeted her back into the garage with an applause and many headpats, congratulating her on her first ever F1 qualifier. ''Let's discuss now.'' Her coach put his arm around her shoulder and guided her to the team's briefing room. 

It hadn't lasted long. The team was overall very satisfied with how the qualifying session had gone and didn't have much feedback for the rookie. 

''Of course it would be great to score points, but finishing P11 is the realistic standing tomorrow.'' Her team principal's words had taken her by surprise, expecting them to want to score as many points as possible at the race tomorrow. 

Y/N wasn't too sure if that was the genuine opinion her team had about the next day or if they thought that she wouldn't be able to make any overtakes. Whatever it was, the dilemma clouded her mind as she walked through the paddock, ready to go back to her hotel and unwind. 

However, an arm pulled her out of her thoughts, making the rookie flinch at the sudden touch. ''What the heck,'' she hastily turned towards the person, ''Seb, don't scare me like that.'' Y/N calmed down seeing the German man grinning at her, Britta standing next to him. 

''You looked like you were overthinking.'' He had seen the frown on her face as she passed the Ferrari hospitality, immediately knowing something was on her mind. ''Starting P11 is good for your first race, the best of the rookies.'' Sebastian figured it was related to the qualifying session. 

''No, I'm happy with my starting position.'' She assured him, shaking her head. 

The Ferrari driver furrowed his eyebrows, being confused. ''Then what is it? Did someone say something to you?'' 

Y/N glanced around the paddock, making sure no one of her team or a reporter was standing near them. ''I just, uh, well- during the briefing, they basically said that they don't expect me to make any overtakes and that I just need to try to keep my position.'' She explained to the duo, both listening attentively. 

''They're already underestimating you?'' Britta commented, shocked they wouldn't encourage her to at least try to overtake as many cars as she can. 

Sebastian agreed with his friend. ''A team telling their driver to not score points is the weirdest thing I've heard in years.'' He said to Britta, a frown gracing his face. 

He turned towards the young woman. ''Don't listen to them, okay? You pass as many fucking cars as you can, alright?'' It almost looked like he was scolding her. 

The girl nodded her head, an appreciative smile on her face. ''You know I will.'' 

''I love the confidence.'' Britta laughed, patting her back. 

''Don't think about it too much, Y/N. You're gonna do great tomorrow, I'm sure of it.'' Sebastian ruffled her hair, a sincere tone in his voice. 

Y/N simply smiled at both of them, and thanked them for their support. ''I'm gonna go back to my hotel now, but I'll see you tomorrow then.'' She bid them goodbye, waving as she walked through the exit gates. 

She could see and feel the condescending stares as she waited on the grid before the start of the race, some people didn't know how to be subtle. She had her headphones on, blasting music through them so she could drown out all of the negative thoughts. 

A tap on her shoulder brought her eyes from the ground to the face of a semi-looking concerned Kimi. She paused her song and took the headphones off, ready to listen to what the older man had to say. ''Yeah?'' 

''I can hear your song.'' Kimi pointed at his own ears, visualizing his words. 

Y/N's eyes widened, her worried expression altering into one of embarrassment. ''Oh, sorry, I'll turn it down.'' She apologized, immediately grabbing her phone to change the volume. 

''No, uh, is okay,'' he told her, ''you good?'' 

She was stunned by his question, awkwardly staring at him for a few seconds before answering. ''Yes, I'm good.'' Kimi always kept it short, she figured she should do the same. 

''Don't be nervous,'' the Finnish driver continued, looking into her eyes, ''people want to see you do bad, prove them wrong.'' 

She had met the man a handful of times before, but they had never talked this much with each other. Kimi kept to himself and she wanted to be respectful of that, not wanting to accidentally cross one of his boundaries. 

He wasn't a man of many words (at least sober) so she appreciated his advice very much, knowing he wouldn't tell her this if he didn't think she could actually prove them wrong. 

''Thanks.'' 

''No worry.'' A small assuring smile was found on his face, making the grimaces of her critics seem like nothing. 

''Y/L easily passes the Renault, moving up to P10.'' The commentary of David Croft sounded as she overtook Sainz, going from P11 to P10. 

Her team's pit crew cheered in the garage, watching the spectacle on the screen. ''Keep pushing, Y/N! We're in the points.'' Her engineer told her over the radio. 

''Hehe, understood.'' She chuckled, proud of her smooth overtake. 

She managed to pass the Mclaren of Vandoorne in the same lap, falling behind the Mercedes of Bottas and the Renault of Hulkenberg who was doing his best to keep his seventh position in the race. 

The pair was too busy challenging each other that they didn't see the car of the female driver coming through, passing both of them when they left a gap. ''Y/L jumps ahead of both of them! She jumped Bottas and Hulkenberg, moving up to P7! What a stellar performance of the rookie driver!'' 

People couldn't believe their eyes as she passed the Mercedes, undoubtedly one of the fastest cars on the grid compared to her team's midfield one. 

''Bloody amazing, Y/N! The Red Bull is too far up to catch, but defend for your life now!'' P6 wasn't possible anymore as she went into the last lap, Max's car being quicker and having fresher tyres than her. 

The last lap almost went by in a haze, the young woman scared something would ruin the beautiful moment for her, but that never came. ''Y/N Y/L comes across the line to celebrate her dream debut and she becomes the first woman in over 40 years to score points in a Grand Prix!'' 

She parked her car behind Max's, her hands on her helmet as if it were her head. Y/N sat in disbelief as reality dawned on her. You scored points in your first F1 race, the sentence played on a loop in her head. 

''Oi! Little Miss scoring points on her debut!'' An Australian accent pulled her out of her thoughts, several pats on her helmet making her look up. ''You passed the Mercedes? Fucking amazing!'' He exclaimed as he saw the silver car parked behind her. 

''Daniel, can you help me get out? My body is in shock, I think.'' Y/N awkwardly chuckled, a bit embarrassed about not being able to get out of her car on her own at the moment. 

Fortunately, the Red Bull driver didn't see the big problem and helped her stand up, supporting her underarms. 

The support turned into a congratulating hug, the Australian swaying her side-to-side. ''Welcome to Formula One, baby!'' He loudly exclaimed. 

Y/N laughed at his antics, touched by his excitement for her good result. ''Thanks, Ricciardo.'' 

''Good overtake there.'' Valtteri patted her helmet with his hand, complimenting her. She bowed her head in appreciation. ''Thank you.'' 

Her and Daniel followed the Mercedes driver into the cooldown room, the latter handing her an ice-cold water bottle from the table. ''What place did you get?'' Y/N asked Daniel, turning to him. 

''P4,'' he sighed, ''but I got fastest lap, so a little redemption.'' The Red Bull driver laughed it off, at least happy he got an extra point for the championship standings. 

A pat on her back made her look back, being met with a sweaty Charles. ''Hey, man.'' She greeted him with a side-hug.

''Saw you got P7, congrats.'' The pair had been teammates the year before at Prema Racing so they have a good friendship with each other. ''Thanks, how did it go for you?'' Y/N was curious about her fellow rookie's debut race. 

He shrugged his shoulders. ''P13, but only because 5 people retired.'' Charles downplayed it, glimpsing at the ground. 

''Cheer up, Charlito! It's only the first one of the season.'' She tried comforting him, not wanting him to be down about his result. 

Charles just smiled and moved on, ready to go back to his team and discuss everything. The rest of the drivers, except the top 3, followed swiftly. Y/N received a grand welcome back in her garage, it almost seemed like she had won the World Championship. She had a brief discussion about the race and her team prepared her for the post-race interviews. 

Surprisingly, the interviews had gone well and not one discriminating question was asked. She mainly received a lot of congratulations and one female reporter even thanked her for her race performance as it would inspire many young girls watching it. Y/N had almost teared up during the specific interview, not expecting anyone to do that. 

The rookie was walking to her driver's room when a call of her name stopped her in her tracks. Lewis jogged up to her, greeting her with a big embrace. ''Good job, you did so well!'' He told her with a huge smile on his face. 

''Thank you, Lewis.'' Her head felt warm, the older man making her a little flustered. 

''And this is only the beginning, you know? You showed everyone today that you deserve to be here, truly amazing!'' He continued praising her. 

Y/N grinned at him. ''Thank you so much, that means a lot to me.'' 

''The three of us were watching it back in the cooldown room, like waiting to see in which position you came in.'' Him, Sebastian and Kimi had attentively observed the screen that replayed the race, interested in knowing how the young woman had performed. 

She was touched by Lewis' words, honored that three World Champions had looked out for her and wanted to know her result. ''Oh my god, that's- wow, that's really cool.'' Y/N awkwardly laughed, not knowing how to give a proper response all of a sudden. 

''Anyway, congrats and celebrate it well,'' he made a move to leave before visibly remembering something, ''oh, yeah, Seb asked me to tell you that he'd come by your driver's room.'' Lewis conveyed Sebastian's message. 

''Oh, great, I'll, uh, see you in two weeks then.'' She bid him goodbye and she was on her way again, hoping the German wasn't already waiting for her there. 

Fortunately for her, Sebastian wasn't there yet and she had the time to change into her casual wear so she could leave the circuit and go straight to the airport afterwards to go back home. 

Three knocks on her door stopped her scroll through social media and she called for her guest to come in, not having the energy to get up from her couch. 

She watched an energetic Sebastian walk into her driver's room, practically running to give her a hug. ''I told you that you could do it! P fucking 7!'' He exclaimed, excitedly. 

''Congrats to you for winning!'' She retorted back, not having had the chance yet to congratulate him on his GP win. 

''Thank you, honey.'' He sat down next to her on the couch. 

''I would have loved to see the faces of everyone on your team the moment you passed Carlos, it must have been priceless.'' Sebastian smirked, thinking of what she had told him the day before. ''And the double overtake? You couldn't have had a better race.'' 

''Oh my god, I couldn't believe it, Seb! Like I finished in front of a Mercedes? Wow, just wow!'' Sebastian laughed at her enthusiasm, imagining how great she must feel now. 

The winner of the day scratched his voice. ''Kimi said how nervous you looked before the race and I'm not gonna lie, I was a bit worried about you,'' he had lowered his voice, different from his loudness of before, ''but you dealt with the pressure perfectly and you didn't let it affect your race. I'm very proud of you.'' His sincerity and expression of pride almost brought tears to her eyes, the words of her idol and mentor meaning a lot to her. 

''Thank you, Seb,'' a shy smile graced her face, ''that means a lot to me, I couldn't have done it without you.'' She thanked him. 

''No, it was your hard work that got you here.'' He argued, not wanting to take any sort of credit for her accomplishments. ''And maybe a little of my money, but you know.'' Sebastian jokingly added, not able to help himself from teasing the younger one. 

Y/N rolled her eyes at the comment. ''Always so humble! Red Bull Seb made an appearance for a second there.'' 

''He's still in here, I just need to keep him in check.'' 

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[colleendoran]

I was curious how you manage to keep features consistent when you draw them? Do you use models? Is there a model for Crowley? He is very handsome.

I don't use models per se, but I sometimes keep files of photos or art that resembles the subject.

Crowley is based a bit on the French actor Alain Delon who was once considered the handsomest man in the world. He doesn't look exactly like Delon, but that is in my head when I draw him. I recall reading Neil and Mr. Pratchett once considered Peter Sellers for Crowley.

There is no reference for Aziraphale because he is entirely in my head and I can't really find anyone who looks exactly the way he does. I recall reading that Neil and Mr. Pratchett thought of Brian Dennehy at one point, but my head canon Aziraphale won. I think a Brian Dennehy Aziraphale would have been amazing, though. Anyway, he is actually kind of hard for me to draw because his facial structure is a bit outside my usual style. His face is a bit long and his eyes closer together than I normally do, and if I'm not careful, he slips away. He appears younger and more classically handsome as an angel than he does in his corporeal form, but I think he's quite fetching as a bookseller.

Michael Sheen is so perfect in this role it is really hard not to leak bits of his performance into the graphic novel edition, but I have to resist the impulse. I am not allowed to use any of the show actors as models.

I adore Michael Sheen. Who doesn't?

Adam is also a head canon character. He is a perfect young Greek God, so that's kind of drawing on a day with a Y in it for me.

The inspiration for Newt I'm keeping a secret. I submitted a number of sketches for Newt. The show Newt dug in deep and I had a hard time shaking him off.

The Them are based on kids I knew. They're in my head, I don't need any photos. They don't really look like the kinds in the show. The book version of Pepper, for example, is a freckled red-head.

Anathema is an amalgam of features that don't come from one person, which I think fits the description of the character. She's also unusual for me to draw but she's easier to draw than Aziraphale. I nail her every time.

Hastur is a caricature of the stereotypical English upper class you'd see in broadsheets 200 years ago. I have a file of pictures of Anthony Ashley-Cooper, 7th Earl of Shaftesbury for Hastur. I considered making Hastur more handsome in a Duke of Hell sort of way, but I think Hastur likes to be scary. I keep thinking of Peter O'Toole when I draw Hastur, too.

I feel kind of bad basing Hastur on Lord Ashley because he was a wonderful person and I'm sure he didn't go to Hell.

Ligur is a broad caricature of Danny Devito. I obviously can't use a DeVito portrait. That would be wrong. But I can tweak from there and come up with a general idea of the face I want to use.

Beelzebub and Metatron are head canon, and don't look a thing like they do in the show. I postulate some demons prefer to look like their angelic selves, and at other times prefer to be fearsome. Crowley can look fearsome when he wants, for example. In the book, Beelzebub appears as a young man in red flames.

Shadwell was drawn from reference at the direct suggestion of Neil.

Madame Tracy is based on a certain person, but no one you would have heard of. The original source might not be flattered, but I love Madam Tracy. She's really easy to draw because she's a bit over the top. I'm sketching around her scenes right now because I don't have final approval on some things yet. So she might need some changes later.

War is head canon, very easy to draw. She's a knockout. No reference required.

Famine looks a lot like Famine in the show, actually, but that's what Famine always looked like, pretty much. Except he has the grey eyes he has in the book.

Pollution is initially described as being a forgettable white guy, but later described as looking like a romantic poet, which strikes me as being memorable. Because he's only on one page in his forgettable white guy phase, I chose not to make major changes in his appearance between those panels and later when he appears as his true self, because that's a bit more confusing than it needs to be in the graphic novel edition. He's rather glamorous as the essence of Pollution, though. No reference needed.

Dog is a dog.

While I do give every detail a lot of thought, I am sure other people have other opinions. I understand that, and hope you enjoy what I do anyway.

Thanks for your question.

I'm still a bit under the weather, so may be stepping away from the net for awhile so I can concentrate on work. I have a lot of sick time to make up.

But don't think I don't appreciate your interest in the Good Omens graphic novel adaptation. Your wonderful support is acting on me like a tonic, let me tell you.

[akutasoda]

do you like scary movies?

synopsis - taking an acting job may end up with you discovering alot more about the esteemed director than you wished you would've known

includes - mr reca

warnings - gn!reader, fluff??, mentions of murder, minor character death, wc - 1.5k

a/n: this possessed me yesterday... i dont like it that much but here you go! happy halloween to those who celebrate :) shouts to @mitsvriii (reca kisser in denial) + @theother-victoria / @https-sourlimes (my fellow ceos of the reca fanclub) for proofreading!! and victoria has kind of enticed me to make a part two...

“it's a bit insensitive, don't you think?” another of actor whispered to you

mere moments ago, you had all been handed the newest script for the highly esteemed mr reca's new film. you had always wanted to have a part in one of his films and so when you saw a post about auditions on paperfolds university notice board, you jumped at the opportunity, to say the audition was nerve-wracking would be a massive underestimate. for one of your first auditions, going for a role in mr reca's film was certainly ambitious.

but by some stroke if luck, you landed a part. and the lead role at that - you swore you nearly ascended to aeonhood when you received the news. the nerves never really went away however, now you felt an immense pressure to do well. mr reca himself had chosen you to play a lead role in his new film. you couldn't let him down.

on the initial audition post, it detailed how it was for roles in a horror film, nothing else. he could be quite secretive like that. so as soon as all roles had been chosen the scripts were handed out in complete confidence and you were all informed of when you needed each part memorized.

“i mean sort of? but people make documentaries all the time…” another one actor whispered before they were quickly shut down by the former who angrily whispered back,

“yeah but those are documentaries! and normally they have eyewitness testimonies!! not some actors acting out stories around it!!”

your slightly scrunched your eyebrows as you re-read the script. you could definitely see it as being somewhat insensitive. it was very evident that the director had taken some inspiration from the current serial killings that were plaguing penacony and outside the dreamscape.

there had been multiple instances of various penacony goers suddenly becoming unresponsive in the dreamscape and then later found dead in their hotel rooms in the real world. it had taken penacony by storm and multiple messages from the family had been issued to try and calm the masses.

although the family's noticeable lack of actual action was what caused most of the panic, they only addressed it and told people to stay safe. not taking any proper action like they should be doing.

this was probably why mr reca began directing a horror film now, with everyone's eyes on the news about this masked killer horror was all the rage - it would be weird if not even one director didn't capitalize of this event as morbid as that may seem.

but some days, penacony was the emptiest it had ever been due to the constant fear of becoming the serial killer's next victim. apparently, however, mr reca didn't seem to be phased by such fads. as written in the scripts were detail for detail deaths that perfectly resemble their real life counterparts.

each one even had a perfect example for how the kill was carried out which, admittedly, sent a shiver down your spine. it wasn't exactly unknown that reca used some real life scenarios to model parts of his films, but this did seem excessive. but you weren't really in a position to argue against him.

so while your fellow actors bickered about the script, you bit your tongue and held your thoughts in - despite the constant unease that plagued the back of your mind. you were an actor, this was a film. all you had to do was memorize your lines and prove to mr reca that he chose the right person to play the main character.

the first few days of filming had gone well, so far your character had yet to encounter the killer and was living up to the overused “plot armor” character. from what you had read in the script, your character was meant to live until the end, losing all your friends along the way and narrowly escaping death more times than you could count. typical horror movie protagonist.

you had to admit, mr reca certainly was… out there when it came to the creative liberty he had taken about the backstories of how the kills were carried out. you could almost imagine that he was there with how well thought out it was - especially paired with how accurately detailed the kills were… even though the family kept most of the details secret…

he probably had a way of getting those. probably best not to dwell on it.

everything went rather smoothly until the last couple scenes. your character was meant to encounter the killer face to face for the first time after seeing your best friend be killed - in the same manner as the last victim that lost their life a couple days before filming to the real serial killer - and then you'd run away and survive. pretty standard acting in your eyes.

but when you entered the studio, the first thing you noticed was the lack of other actors or crew. the only other person you had seen so far was the other actor who was meant to be playing the role of “your best friend” but they were leaving as you entered.

then you encountered mr reca himself, standing in the middle of the set half dressed in the exact same outfit as the real masked killer detailed by the family to watch out for. he was really making this authentic huh?

“mr reca, sir, i didn't know you were playing a role in your own film?” you poised, you knew he'd be there with his assistant but that was to oversee the filming but you hadn't expected him to take up a role himself.

he hummed “yes. normally i don't but i deemed my original choice unfit and it's too late for replacements” the costume certainly fit him too well for a last minute replacement.. did he have it made recently?

he took a couple steps over to a table that was on set, looking over it before picking up a knife that seemed a bit too real to be a prop, “plus, i had an idea. a change in scenes you may say and i wanted to personally try out my new idea”

panic flooded your body at the idea of not going by the original script you memorized, but you swallowed any hesitancy and agreed, you could handle an impromptu scene change right? you shakily agreed and sensing your nerves, reca continued

“don't worry, i don't expect you to get it right on the first try, i did drop this on you. i may need to act it out a couple times to decide myself” this time, he stalked over to you and gave you a smirk that set off your fight or flight “i haven't quite decided which kill i prefer yet”

the filming certainly took longer than you anticipated, mr reca kept changing the scenario and you always tried to keep up with his ideas but you were wearing thin. it appeared as though his main change was making your character become the final victim. you knew it was all acting and he was trying to find the perfect end but there was something about how passionate he was about each scenario that unnerved you more and more.

each scenario was so perfectly planned out. you could take a guess that they could all be carried out without a hitch or even a suspect if the current serial killer were to perform them. even halfway through, on one of your breaks, you made a joke about it to him.

“you know, mr reca” he turned to look at you “your scenarios are always really planned out! it's like your a natural at this” you let out a small awkward chuckle as you trailed off

he smiled “a good director must know about what he's directing, that's how a film feels authentic” a small pause as he looked down at the “prop” in his hand, turning it a few times “and even get some hands on experience…”

you couldn't quite catch his last few words so you asked him to repeat but he made a small vague dismissive gesture with his empty hand

“dont worry about it, what's more important is that i think i figured out what i want for the scene” he beamed and so you agreed to wrap up filming for that day.

the next day, for your own piece of mind, you decided to ignore the latest death that occured last night being carried out the exact same way that you acted out with him that previous night.

and you didn't look into the fact that he personally asked you to act again in his next horror film as the main character again. it was all a coincidence right? mr reca wouldn't hurt you if it wasn't though… right?

taglist - @little-miss-chaoss, @frankiesteinn

[yeonboy]

𝐧𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐦𝐞𝐞𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐨𝐞𝐬 ♡ choi soobin.

If it was up to you, you would worship the very ground Choi Soobin walks. No, you’re not a simp, he’s just that amazing – the star of your college’s broadcasting club, your role model, the reason why you even have a dream career, and…someone you’d really like to make out with if he’d allow it. But the first ever conversation you have with him has your rose-tinted, star-studded glasses shattering to pieces when he turns out to be a huge jerk. Is this just a misunderstanding or is it the end?

❧ choi soobin x f. reader | 16+ | college!au ♡ strangers to lovers!au ♡ angst ♡ fluff

❧ 10 k words

❧ warnings! inaccuracies wrt broadcasting journalism majors & college broadcasting clubs, profanity, some suggestive language, misunderstandings, allusions to slut-shaming, soobin being an accidental (?) asshole, some heartbreak, some conflict, some yelling, insecurities wrt social standing in college, yn is a certified soob simp™ but goes thru a hater era for half a day </3, stinky cute fluff later on, some cringe, so much blushinG it’ll make u sick, a make out sesh, cameo by yj & his girl from fic 1 bec i love them sm :(

❧ note! set in the same universe as no one but you. i’ve been working on this since marCh, idk why it took me so long to finish? the wc def ran away from me a little whoops! anyways, this gets rough in the middle – soobin might shock u with his behavior but it will all get resolved, i promise!

leave me feedback if you like this! follow for more! (:

❧ masterlist | inbox ⁘

“I’m sorry, the tryouts are closed!”

You blink. Take a step away. Peek at the huge poster stuck on the huger double doors to the auditorium. The notice says the tryouts would run from four to six in the evening – it’s presently five minutes past five. What the heck?

Around you, you notice a number of girls looking as disgruntled as you feel. You approach one. “Uh, hey…did you already do your piece?”

The girl twirls a vibrant purple strand of hair around her finger and rolls her eyes. “Nope. Choi’s bitch ass shut the doors unannounced ’cause he’s pissed off for some reason.”

Choi? Bitch ass? This girl can’t possibly be talking about the Choi Soobin, right? The prince of the university’s broadcasting club who always emcees every single stage performance the university hosts?

No, she can’t be. No one would refer to the Choi Soobin’s glorious behind as ‘bitch ass.’ Besides, you really don’t think he’d sit around judging freshmen entrants to the club when he’s got so many better, so much cooler things on his schedule.

Choi Soobin the Great has been in this club for three years, two of which he has spent as its president. That, in itself, should be pretty explanatory with regards to how skilled he is at the whole announcer, emcee, broadcast business. 

His extraordinary talent with the mic is what inspired you to pick broadcast journalism as your major, in fact. You'd entered the university on jittery, scared steps because you didn't believe you would actually find something that interested you enough to make a career out of. You spent a whole academic year fluttering between psych and communication, aimless and despaired.

But then came sophomore year where you volunteered to set things up for the new freshman batch's orientation week – and that is when you saw Choi Soobin, a fellow sophomore, take the stage and blow everyone away. He was so good with his audience of the new admittees, providing them with all the important information without making them feel nervous because he used the perfect amount of jokes as a buffer.

It was love at first sight for you.

Okay, like, not like that. You did end up making an altar for Choi Soobin the Great where you continue to worship on the daily because he's a god on stage, but what you actually fell in love with was the art of emceeing.

So you registered your major in your third semester and began to work on polishing your skills. Now, two semesters later and midway through the junior year, you finally feel confident and prepared enough to enter your God's actual, holy shrine and join his praying circle.

…maybe you should stop with these metaphors before it gets weird.

Anyways.

Case in point – unlike this uninformed rodent of a girl who found it fit to disrespect your role model and gave up on these tryouts in favor of rolling her eyes and complaining in the hallway, you are nothing if not strong-willed. 

You are finally ready to do something about your one true passion that you can actually see yourself pursuing professionally after college. Being part of the university's broadcasting club means guaranteed dream job; you've seen it happen with your eyes for two consecutive years. You're finally ready to follow suit; finally ready to join the ranks of the elite and learn from Choi Soobin the Great himself – and you are not about to let a gruff call of  "tryouts are closed" from an overworked janitor deter you.

Checking this way and that for any onlookers, you sneak off to the narrow passage to the side that you know connects to this auditorium's back door, and in turn, the cafeteria. You're just gonna casually stroll through it, maybe loiter a bit around the doors until someone from the judges panel steps out so that you can beg them to give you a chance. And if someone catches you? You were just looking for the cafe!

It's the perfect plan.

Until, that is, your loitering ends with the legend himself, Choi Soobin the Great stepping out of the backdoor and freezing you to a statue.

You've seen the man from afar more times than you can count on both hands. You're a true fan, a great admirer, a semi-obsessed devotee (?) of his. But never once have you seen the guy from this up close. Needless to say, your brain's short circuiting a little.

Three things strike you all at one – that the university's emcee prince did, in fact, sit in to judge freshman entrants to the broadcasting club despite his various busy schedules; that the purple haired female auditionee actually did call this great man's glorious behind 'bitch ass' like an uncultured heathen; and finally, that Choi Soobin sporting a combination of dark black hair, bright red lips and stark white t-shirt should be banned because it can cause brain malfunctions in people.

Because while the guy's eyes widen and then squint as he looks at you, and mouth opens as if to say something to you – you stay absolutely frozen, literally turned to stone without a single muscle moving in your body. Including your lungs that are jammed because you're pretty sure you aren't breathing.

"Um… can I help you?"

Oh shit, his dimples…

His dimples!

You realise this is entering borderline creepy territory but you can't help staring at him. He's just so pretty. Though your brain functions are still experiencing a slight lag, you're starting to realize that your crush on the guy is winning over the admiration and respect you have for his talents, at the moment.

He's ethereal. He's unearthly. He's the most beautiful guy you've ever met. You're a simp.

"Excuse me?" Soobin's head tilts to the side in confusion. "Can I help you?"

He definitely can, in more ways than one, but that conversation is for another time.

His impatiently raised eyebrows suddenly push you back into motion, breaking your frozen state, but now you're on an overdrive, very close to hyperventilating in front of him.

"H–hey! I mean, h–hi. I mean, fancy bumping into you here! N–not that we bumped, just, uh—haha, you know? Fancy – fancy seeing you here, how have you been?"

Oh

God.

Did all of that just exit your mouth?

You need a shovel because this calls for digging up a hole and burying yourself alive. What the fuck is wrong with you?

Your entire face feels like it's caught on fire, and all the nerve endings in your body are tingling from embarrassment. You feel like you're vibrating. Wait, if you vibrate at a frequency that's outside of the visible range, can you voluntarily make yourself disappear?

The only thing holding you back from combusting into flames is the amused smile that replaces the previously formal tilt on Soobin's lips. "Hi. I'm sorry, where do I know you from? You look very familiar, but I'm just missing it…"

You look familiar? So he does notice you in class! Maybe getting that hair spa last month has worked in your favor, after all. You're getting a little googly eyed, but you do your best to control your reactions as you gauge his.

He looks so darn cute with his dimpled smile that makes his eyes squint, that you're left gaping for a couple of seconds before you're able to notice the hand he is forwarding you. Nodding haphazardly, you forward yours and let him wrap his huge palm around your significantly smaller one. Even though you try to repress it, the warmth his skin emanates sends a shiver running through you.

If Soobin notices the subtle shake your body gives, he doesn't comment on it.

He's being so angelically patient and kind, you need to get it together! 

So you clap your hands in front of your face and pull your lips up in a smile, preparing yourself to say your thing without any unnecessary words this time. 

"Uh, I'm – I'm in your class? I don't know if you know me, but I know you! I'm, um, I'm here for the broadcasting club. And – and I noticed that the banner said that the tryouts would run from four to six, but I've been told that the gates have been closed when it is barely past five, so I was… w–wondering…" You slowly trail off, stuttering a little when Soobin's facial expressions do a sudden one-eighty.

Gone is the sweet, dimpled, kind guy who was smiling at you with his eyes. Now his lips are pursed and eyebrows furrowed, a clear look of irritation on his face. Well, he's still got a dimple showing, but this one's part of his frowny face so you're not sure if you should be admiring it anymore.

"Wow. You're gutsy." His tone has changed now, too, really stiff with an underlying scoff in words. "Did you follow me here?"

You blink in surprise. "What? Of course not! The – the main doors were closed, so I was looking for another way in and—"

"Good God, please stop talking," he interrupts you with a groan, rolling his eyes as he tilts his head to look skywards – and you're fully paralyzed now, clueless and a little scared because Soobin looks so mean and intimidating with his eyebrows scrunched up like that. "I don't get what you guys' problem is. I'm – I'm trying to do something serious here. Why the hell do you not get it?"

Blinking slowly, you gape at your idol, your icon, the deity of all things broadcasting as he yells at you about something you can make neither head nor tail of. 

'You guys'? Who? 

You know that you of all people definitely get that he's doing something serious. You're as much, if not more, serious about the club yourself; the reason why you've taken so long to decide to audition for it. Besides, how's he judging you when you've never met before?

Willing your frozen lips to move, you attempt to clear the air. "We've – we've never met before. You don't know me. I'm—"

"Oh, I know you enough." This time there is vitriol in his eyes as he spits the words, and you take an actual, vary step away from Soobin. "I've been through twenty auditions and seen fifty applications in the past hour and every single one of the girls like you is dying to get to interview the hockey team and talk to Yeonjun about his strategy for his final season in college. So I know exactly who you are and exactly what you're after."

He is rolling his eyes again, this time with both his hands braced on his waist.

But his words are very confusing and a little hurtful. Why is he grouping you with whatever 'girls like you' he's seen so far? You've been a fan of Soobin for a while now, but you've never encountered any instance of even a mention of him being anything less than courteous and big hearted.

This attitude from him feels like living a fever dream – and not of the good kind.

"So for the last time – I'm not taking any of you groupies into this club because it is not a means to get into the hockey captain's pants! I need serious people who look at announcing and broadcasting with respect and not as something they can use as cover for their ulterior motives. Oh, and if it means anything to you at all, Yeonjun hyung has a girlfriend now. We probably won't even be covering him at all because his fangirls are always a bit too much."

Your head is spinning a little now. 

Did he call you a groupie? Yeonjun's groupie? He thinks you're doing this to get into Yeonjun's… what the hell?

While you're still processing his previous words, Soobin gives a wince. "Look, I'm sorry if all this sounds harsh, but you've left me no choice. Trying to corner me was a really low blow, okay? There's a limit to acting desperate and you're clearly crossing the line, here. If you can't respect me or the club, at least respect yourself."

The pieces have finally fallen in place in your head. You couldn't make sense of it earlier because you didn't really allow yourself to think Soobin would go there. But given his last statement, now you have no doubts.

You don't live under a rock – you really can't afford to when you dream of joining the broadcasting club, of all things – so you obviously know hockey captain Choi Yeonjun and the hype surrounding him. And because you always do your homework well, you also know that he used to be somewhat of a serial dater before he got into a serious relationship with his long time best friend, just last month. All of Yeonjun's fangirls across campus have been disheartened by this development and have been acting desperate ever since.

But why on earth has Soobin pegged you as one of them escapes you. You did not say a word about the hockey team. You didn't get to tell him what your goals actually are. Hell, you didn't even get to tell him your name before he shut you down.

This is a very overwhelming generalization, and you really wanna give Soobin the benefit of the doubt here because going through fifty bullshit applications can be a lot – but he needs to hear you out for you to do that.

"Soobin," you try again, raising both your palms up in an attempt to placate him, "I don't know how you're getting this idea, but I'm not one of – one of Yeonjun's groupies, or whatever, okay? I literally told you I'm in your class."

“Look, I really don’t have time for all these tales,” Soobin interrupts you with a sigh, a huge hand raised up to shut you up – so you do. “You’re dressed… too prettily to be trying out for the broadcasting club, anyways. Is that a cheerleading skirt?”

He's looking down his nose at your miniskirt that you felt very pretty in, annoyance on his face, and now –

Now you're hurt. Now you're hurt beyond giving him the benefit of the doubt. Now you're hurt enough for your eyes to sting with offense.

“Are you trying to pass a judgment on my…clothes?” you ask him in shock, your voice low and a frown creasing your forehead. 

He looks a little uncomfortable as he clears his throat. “I’ve seen the way Yeonjun’s fangirls dress, and you kinda… fit the description.”

He really isn’t giving up on the groupie allegations…

In any other scenario, you would honestly take that as a compliment. Because you have seen these girls as well and their appearance is honestly on another level. But this guy in front of you definitely means it as an insult. And he is still scowling, as if you have dressed up to personally offend him.

You’re at a complete loss now. He hasn’t let you talk, you haven’t even told him your name, and he is acting like knows everything about you. His mind seems fully made up too. 

What are you supposed to do?

"You know what? Maybe I… I should leave through the front door,” he murmurs in your general direction and then moves to step back through the gates he’d emerged from.

You just stay rooted to your place, offended at his dismissal and still in partial disbelief. 

Choi Soobin is nothing like anything you thought he was. 

The smiling, giggling, squinty-eyed guy that you always heard being called kind-hearted, warm, understanding and sweet? Cannot be the same guy you just met. Part of the reason why you like him so much has been the overwhelming amount of praises you have heard about him. 

At times, you found yourself wondering how such an important and busy guy could muster enough patience to be a sweetheart to everyone. Now you know that it’s all a sham – a character he has created to showcase. It’s all pretend. 

This, the version of him you just met, is what the real Choi Soobin is like when no one’s looking. 

Not just your crush, but your idol has broken your heart. 

How are you gonna move on from this?

"Y/N!"

The sudden shout of your name makes you jump in surprise, wide, watery eyes turning to the end of the hallway. Soobin has stopped in his place as well, a frown on his forehead as he attempts to follow your gaze – but he's a little off center from the curved hallway to be able to locate a bubbly looking Yeji excitedly waving at you. 

Oh fuck. Not right now. You don't need your best friend to witness you experiencing the worst moment of your entire life.

But Yeji being the loudass clown she is, doesn't stop speaking at the top of her voice as she marches down the hallway to you. "Where have you been? The janitor says they closed the tryouts? Did you pass? Oh, and a girl told me Choi Soobin was in the judging panel! Did you get to see him?"

Your eyes jump wide, traveling to the said guy involuntarily to witness the way confusion overtakes his face. He isn't moving, though, probably out of intrigue now that he has heard his name, and you're halfway scared to death that Yeji is about to reveal your secret and bathe you in the kind of embarrassment that you will never be able to live down.

"Yeji, I'm just—"

"Babe, why do you look so pale?" she cuts you off, squinting as she nears you, and before you can get another word out, her lips are tilting mischievously and eyebrows are wiggling. "Did Choi find out about your obsessive crush on him? Did he kick you out? Are you hiding from him?"

Yeji is done walking up to you and is now standing with her back to the still open door to the auditorium to look at you with her head tilted and hands braced on her waist. But your gaze is stuck to the person whose face you can easily see over her shoulder.

Soobin's eyes are impossibly wide and mouth is parted to allow his bunny-like front teeth to peek out. There's a subtle flush covering the top of his cheekbones, ears and the bridge of his nose – a sight that would've had you cooing in adoration if you weren’t so distraught, right now.

And then his lips move to form a broken sentence that makes you want to stab Yeji and then yourself: "You… obsessive crush… me?"

To her credit, Yeji seems to recognise the guy's voice and also the context of this ridiculous situation pretty quickly. Her eyes grow wide immediately before a wince overtakes her face as she mouths the word 'sorry' to you, probably mistaking your fallen expressions to be a reaction to the chaos she has caused. Little does she know.

Just as she has stepped aside, Soobin takes a step closer to you, heavy guilt and bewilderment sewn into the lines of his forehead and the twist of his lips. It's so weird that your heart is still skipping a beat when his gaze searches yours. 

It's so unfair. 

You inhale deeply and shake your head, though, steeling yourself against his deceitful innocent eyes. His dimples are just a facade to hide his arrogance. You know better now.

"Not anymore, don't you worry," you tell him with your chin lifted and eyes narrowed.

And damn, you feel so brave for that one. Especially because the words aren't even true. Getting over him will be a hefty task and you have no idea where to even begin, because your life has pretty much revolved around the guy for over a year.

Soobin frowns at that, looking almost hurt, and you want to laugh in his face at the hypocrisy. But you've had enough of him judging you and you're also ninety-eight percent sure you will end up crying if you tried to laugh, so you choose to just grab onto an embarrassed and confused looking Yeji's wrist and tug her with you to the other end of the hallway, exiting into the college's cafeteria.

"Babe, that was—ow!"

Yeji is cut off by you smacking her upside the head. "You're so fucking stupid, Hwang."

"I know… I'm sorry?" 

"Shut up, you’re buying me lunch."

The next day, while you’re supposed to be attending your Media Law class, a mandatory course in your major, you find yourself sitting (read: sulking) in a corner of the library by yourself, staring at the laptop in front of you unseeingly. Your attendance is good enough to save your grades and you can beg Chaewon for notes later in the week. 

But you truly don’t have enough mental strength to face the class’ star student after the shitshow that went down, yesterday.

While Yeji bought you lunch yesterday, you filled her in on everything that happened. Your best friend provided you with a shoulder for your tears, some tissues for your snot and four golden words of advice: never meet your heroes. Because now everything is ruined, and you’re beginning to wonder if picking this major was even worth it when the reason why you did has turned out to be a sham himself.

Your phone suddenly pings with a message, breaking your chain of spiraling thoughts.

11:03 | yeji 💘 dood. guess who i bumped into omw to the chem lab and guess what he asked me for

You blink and then squint at your phone. Why is your best friend trying to be so mysterious? 

↪ wtf ji…? ↪ who asked u for what? ↪ are u okay?

11:05 | yeji 💘 what? yeah i’m okay choi soobin asked for your number

What? 

↪ yeji… ↪ tell me u didn’t give it to him

11:06 | yeji 💘 of course not bestie <3 i told him to talk to you in person he’ll be there in a min good luck! 💋💋💋

You hadn’t even fully inhaled your breath of relief at Yeji’s first text when she cut it short with the next one. In person? In a minute? 

Did Yeji tell him where you are?

“Uh, hey… Can we talk?”

She did. Shit.

Even if you don’t lift your gaze from your phone, Soobin’s tall form blocks the incoming light from the window you were seated next to and casts such an obvious shadow on your form that you cannot ignore him without making it weird. So you lick your lips and collect your nerves, preparing yourself to face the guy who single-handedly inspired and then shattered your future plans.

Soobin looks as devastatingly handsome as ever, dressed in a white, collared shirt. His hair is just as black, lips just as red, but there’s an additional pair of thick, black, round-framed glasses sitting on his eyes this time that make your heart beat faster. He just had to look like a runway model in glasses. The universe hates you. Figures.

The expressions on his face scream clear distress and the guilt you saw yesterday. He’s nibbling on his bottom lip, which is a great sign because his bitch ass should be antsy about his audacity of talking to you now when he didn’t wanna listen to you yesterday.

Wow. Maybe that purple haired girl really was onto something, yesterday. Choi Soobin’s derriere is most definitely a rude and a bitch ass.

Looking down at your laptop, you clear your throat and ask him, “What do you wanna talk about?”

You don’t ask him to sit, you do not smile, don’t even wave back in response to his lame ass ‘hey’ – just cut straight to business. You’re proud of the way your voice sounds the right amount of impatient and careless.

“I… I owe you an apology.”

That has you looking at him again. He’s frowning now, looking so conflicted, you almost soften. But then you stop yourself. This is probably not even that heartfelt. He heard about your crush on him and now he pities you. You won’t be a vessel for him to pretend to clear his conscience when he wasn’t even willing to get off his judgemental high horse for you.

“Soobin… don’t.”

He takes the seat opposite yours, ignoring your eyebrows that rise up in shocked outrage. "I have to. Please."

"You really don't—"

"I was horribly out of line, ridiculously ignorant, unprofessional and – and an asshole."

You blink at him in mild surprise. At least he knows; that’s an oddly good start. "You can say that again."

He removes his glasses and rests his elbows on the table, leaning towards you with wide, desperate eyes. "I do not expect you to forgive me, I just need you to – to know that I'm not… I'm not who I was yesterday. That's not – I was under pressure and I felt irritated, insecure and a little jealous? And I said everything I didn't mean. Especially that comment about your dress up! I didn't mean it, I swear! You looked pretty, your skirt was really cute, okay? I – I didn't mean to insult you, I would never stoop to that level."

Your cheeks involuntarily heat up at the compliment he tosses at you so casually. "Why say it when you didn't mean it?" you mumble, attempting to hold your ground and stay mad because he's saying all the right things to weaken your resolve and give him an ear.

He hangs his head as if in shame. "Because I'm a moron. None of the stuff I said was aimed at you. As you said, we hadn't even met before, and… I was frustrated and tired and just drew all these wrong conclusions about you and went off like an idiot. I feel so horrible. I'm so fucking sorry..."

Very slowly, you lean back in your chair and shut your laptop. He really knows how to apologize, damn. 

You were preparing to knock Choi Soobin off the throne you had him sitting on, mentally, and then crush that very throne to pieces because if he could disappoint you like this, you were determined to never look for another role model. You were preparing yourself to leave Choi Soobin and his arrogance in dust and move on with your life.

But now here he is – apologizing like the decent human being you always thought him to be, saying everything you’d never admit you needed to hear.

He’s climbing back upon the throne that took you a whole day to make up your mind to remove him from. 

You’re kinda pathetic, to be honest…

In an attempt to regain some of the dignity your inner monologue has stripped you of, you frown at him. But you are definitely intrigued now because if the kindness and sweetness he shows everyone is a facade, why is he being kind and sweet to you in private?

Could there possibly be… an explanation for his behavior yesterday? He said he was under pressure and frustrated. Although you understand the former, given his position and the auditions yesterday, you don’t really get why he would be frustrated.

When you meet his gaze again, you find Soobin looking at you with those wide eyes of his spilling desperate hope. So you decide to bite.

 "You – you keep saying you were frustrated… Why was that? "

He thumps his head against the table with a groan, making you jump a little in surprise, and then looks up with a determined expression on his face. "I'll begin from the beginning. I owe you that much."

"You really don't owe me any—"

"Please, Y/N."

Oh. Did he say your name? Oh.

Wow, this is why crushes are horrible. Now your heart is thumping wildly and your face feels really hot. Honestly, there should be a system where one can run a background check on an individual before they can be deemed safe enough to be crushed on so that one doesn’t end up embarrassing oneself.

You can only hope your face hasn’t heated up to a noticeable degree.

"I… Since the day I was made President of the Broadcasting Club and was given the duty to conduct interviews for the different sports teams our college has, there’s been this – this recurring pattern. Huge throngs of girls that want to join the club for a chance to interview the hockey team and get close to Captain Choi.” He gives a tired exhale and runs a hand down his face. “I’ve seen it repeat every semester. And this time it got really out of hand because I actually decided to sit in for the tryouts…”

You didn’t even notice when you leaned on your elbows to mirror Soobin’s seating position and focused your eyes on his face, so when he looks up to meet your gaze, your breath catches for a moment. And then you see absolute, sheer tiredness reflected by his brown orbs.

He cannot be this good of an actor, can he be? That would mean that he's really been going through something with this whole insincere signing up for the club thing.

"It was really wrong of me to explode on you the way I did," he continues in a softer voice, looking down at the table next to his palms. "I assumed you were one of the girls that had been giving me a hard time and… didn't even let you say your thing. I'm really, terribly sorry for being a jerk to you."

Your jaw drops a little at the sincerity that spills from his apology. He doesn't sound like he's doing this to clear his conscience or out of pity – he sounds really regretful. He almost sounds like he's in pain, in fact. 

Does he really feel that guilty?

He would only be feeling so bad about this if… everything he has said so far is the truth and he’s actually not the kind of person he painted himself as, yesterday. You can sense the way your previously drawn conclusions begin to dissipate little by little.

"After you left," Soobin begins again, this time with a slight twinkle in his eyes and a tilt to his lips that makes his dimples pop, "I went looking for your application form and read about your interest in announcing. You… you picked your major because of me?"

Your cheeks are definitely on fire now and there’s no way Soobin can’t see that. Why did you put that in your form, you embarrassing imbecile? 

Well. If Soobin has been gusty and virtuous enough to come looking for you and make an attempt to honestly explain himself and apologize, maybe you can be a little honest with him as well.

"You see… the freshman orientation you hosted last year left an impact on me," you reveal, unable to look at him. "And then I saw your sports coverage and realized that I want to be a sports announcer in future."

Soobin says your name, making you look up and meet his soft gaze. "I never thought I would do anything in life that would be worth an inspiration… so this means a lot to me. A lot.” His eyes are shining with sincerity and emotion, and you’re looking into them, spellbound. “I am so sorry I hurt you and I’m ready to try and make it up to you for as long as needed. I don’t really expect you to accept my apology, like I told you, but if you would please give me another chance, I would like to show you who I really am. And maybe initiate you, if you’d like?"

He finishes with a sweet, dimpled smile and maybe that is to be blamed for the way his question bounces right off of you.

"Initiate…me?" You cluelessly blink at him.

"Yeah. Into the club. All the members went through your application and some samples of you emceeing. So it’s not just mine, but everybody’s decision. Insistence, if you will. Request? We – we’d really really like to have you on our team."

Your eyes jump open very wide at that. Join the club of your dreams? He’s finally offering you the spot you thought you’d lost forever? 

Wait, did he say samples? Of you emceeing?  What?

"I’m sorry, what samples?"

A blush tinges his ears. "I contacted your friend Yeji about this, last evening. Please don’t be mad at her, she just wanted to help you. She told me how much this means to you… and then sent me a couple of clips of you managing a stage during a kids’ talent show in your neighborhood. You were really impressive, Y/N."

Holy fucking hell, you're going to scream. 

First at Hwang Yeji for going behind your back and selling you to the enemy, no matter what her motivation might’ve been. And then because your idol just complimented you on something you've learned from him.

"Th–thank you, Soobin." You bite your lip at the stutter in your voice, peering up at him with hesitant eyes. And then you decide to be honest with him again: "Your praise… means a lot to me."

Soobin's eyes sparkle at that, a warm smile pulling at his lips. "And I promise to always remember, respect and honor that. Just one chance?”

You stay like that for the next few moments, looking at him with a soft gaze.

You’ve been polishing your skills to prepare yourself for a spot in this club for a year. If you had gotten the chance to audition normally yesterday, there is no doubt in your mind that you would’ve made the cut. So wouldn’t it be unfair if you give up now?

And then there’s Soobin, of course. It’s going to take you some time to trust him. But if he says he’s willing to work on it, says it with a sincerity in his eyes that gives you goosebumps, you believe it’s worth giving him a chance to correct the misunderstanding he caused yesterday.

You exhale, mind made up, and nod at the guy tentatively. “Promise me you will hear what I have to say before you draw any conclusions?”

He leans closer to you, bringing his face at the same level as yours and nods eagerly. “I promise. Cross my heart and hope to die. Do I take this as a yes to joining the club?”

His eagerness makes you crack a smile, which causes Soobin to scrunch his nose bashfully. You inhale deeply and give him another nod. “Yes, you may.”

Time flies really fast after that day as you attempt to find a stable way of juggling your classes and the club duties. 

The work isn’t as much in bulk as it is in the details. Soobin is, as you’d known beforehand, a meticulous perfectionist. Every single activity the club is involved in has to be fully planned in bullet points and a step-wise-step itinerary, and uploaded to the club’s shared Google Drive, days in advance, or Mr. President begins to lose his calm . You, being the newest addition to the bunch of six experienced members, are mostly tasked with assisting the guy on building this very itinerary.

Not that you mind.

The more time you spend next to him, witnessing him in his element up close and actually getting to peer into the creative wonderland that his mind is, the more you find yourself in awe of him. He has been a role model to you for a reason, after all.

With each passing day, you pat yourself on the back for taking a chance by accepting his apology as you slowly begin to see the real him – the version of him that is absolutely nothing like the asshole you met that day. And little by little, your trust in him begins to grow.

Soobin, to his credit, doesn’t leave a single stone unturned to make you feel welcome into the club. He is incredibly patient and delicate with you – always pausing to check whether you have been keeping up with all the new stuff or if you need any guidance.

You’re beginning to understand that it is in his nature to be kind. The word that got around about him has been correct all along – he really is gentle, understanding and sweet. And if he is going an extra mile for you with the intention of appeasing you because he is apologetic? Well… he’s damn well succeeding. 

The two of you have quickly fallen into a routine where you attend your 10 am Media Law class together, collect the communication majors Karina and Jongho from their block, and then report to Arin—the only senior in the club and known to be an effortless ace—in the broadcasting room. After a short briefing about the previous days’ tasks and a rundown of the fresh day’s checklist, you and Soobin depart to the library to work on it. 

After that you both attend your separate afternoon classes, meet up at the broadcasting room at four in the evening for the college announcements that are alternated between Yunjin and Jongin, sophomores and the final two members of the club, and the lot of you finally take your leave some time around six.

The first week is so exhausting for you that you are barely left with enough strength to feed yourself before you collapse into bed every night, let alone think about your academics. You don’t even text Yeji for three whole days, until she accosts you in the library. 

Soobin texts you, that evening, sharing tips on time management, task management as well as a small list of snacks that he munches on to retain energy. To say your heart nearly beats out of your chest at the gesture would be an understatement. 

The following weeks are full of you being on the receiving end of more such thoughtful acts by Soobin. Getting you coffee – one that is made exactly the way you like it – before the evening meet-up, walking you to your dorm if you don’t have anyone from your building accompanying you, repeatedly checking in to ensure you’re well-rested and not overwhelmed by the sudden change in your routine.

And then there is that one time, some three weeks later, when you're filling in for an absent Yunjin and make a mistake during the announcement – landing yourself at the receiving end of Arin's ire. You feel really bad about your mistake as it is, and so the addition of a reprimand from the senior you've come to look up to has you immensely low.

"She said it was a mistake, noona."

Your head snaps up at Soobin's firm statement. His eyebrows are furrowed and arms are crossed as he looks at Arin. You, along with three other pairs of eyes, gawk at the rare sight of Soobin getting angry, and the rarer sight of him going against the club's queen.

"She's apologized thrice. What more do you expect?"

Arin looks taken aback at the brusque interruption, but doesn't put up a fight against the president. "She needs to practice her pauses, Soobin."

"And she will. I'll make sure she does." He gives a small nod to her before turning his gaze to you. Put in spot, you stare back at him with wide eyes. "I'll stay with her while she practices."

Flashing you a small smile of reassurance, Soobin turns back to the other girl and pats her shoulder to calm her down. And because no one in powerful enough to maintain a frown when Soobin unleashes the power of his dimples upon them, Arin eventually smiles in defeated acceptance and dismisses the meeting.

But your heart never quite manages to dismiss the way this incident makes you feel.

Because Soobin holds true to the promise he made as well – accompanying you to the college's courtyard whenever you're both free and practicing speech with you. To be really honest, he seems to be wanting to spend all his free time with you. You find yourself having to say no to his texts at times because you have plans with Yeji, or are too tired to function.

You'd be lying if you claimed that having so much of his attention on you doesn't make your heart to somersaults in your chest. Which is why you begin to wonder where his extra mile of apologetic appeasement ends. 

The whole apology acceptance thing happened between the two of you awhile ago. He really shouldn't have a reason to continue to dote on you as if he has been hired to take care of you. Last time you checked, you were the one with a gigantic crush on him and not the other way round.

A few explanations pop up in your head, but none of them feel plausible enough for you to even think about. So you do the next best thing – share your dilemma with Yeji on an impromptu girls’ night in, one Saturday.

For a moment, your best friend squints her eyes in the way she does when she’s analyzing some complex situation. And then she shrugs a shoulder, pops a pretzel in her mouth and announces: “Sounds like he’s got a crush.”

You blink, caught so off-guard that you’re stunned into silence. It is only when she looks at you with her eyebrows raised that you manage to cough out a scoff. “What? Don’t be ridiculous.”

This time Yeji’s the one to scoff. “Excuse me? What’s so ridiculous about him liking you?”

“Dude. I…” You vaguely gesture to yourself. “I’m me. And he’s…him. Choi Soobin the Great, the prince, the God, the emcee of the year.”

“Uh, I’m sorry, what’s that supposed to mean? You’re you – the princess, the goddess, the prettiest girl on campus and the best student in our year.” She tosses a pretzel at you, scowling. “You’re amazing, bff. Choi Soobin is one lucky motherfucker to have the privilege to spend so much time with you. Of course he’d fall in love! I’d date you if I was into girls!”

The last part of her sentence makes you giggle. “Stop, no one’s talking about love just yet. Do you really think he could be doing all of that with… I don’t know… the intention to woo me?”

“Of course! He’d be a fool not to!” Yeji sits up from her recline on the couch, nearly aggressively grabbing onto your shoulders to shake you. “Didn’t you hear the part where I told you I would date—hell, Ryujin would date you!”

You gape at your best friend, feeling uplifted, reassured and confused all at once. “Wha—? Does Ryujin like girls?”

“No, but she’d still date you. She’s open minded that way.”

“Yeji, what the f—”

“My point is!” She raises a finger up to silence your protest. “You’re fabulous and amazing and gorgeous – have you seen your eyes? Bff, they’re fucking pretty. Do you know what that makes you? More fucking pretty. He likes you, boo, and he's probably got a list of reasons why.”

Yeji’s love language might be words of affirmation through… aggression, but it is surely effective at reminding you of the fact that you’re lovable.

And so more time goes by, with things staying mostly normal if you don’t count the way your cheeks seem to get extra warmer with every cup of coffee that Soobin hands you, lately. If your locked gazes stay locked for longer than necessary, or if his goodbye hugs linger a little and cause your heart to nearly beat out of your chest – it is no one’s business but your own. 

You know, deep in your heart, that you never really got over the guy. He left you heartbroken for a total of 36 hours, while he's spent more than 36 days swirling up a swarm of butterflies in your tummy with every action of his.

It is inevitable for you to fall for him all over again.

You have absolutely no plans of doing anything about it, however, because you have come to really cherish the close friendship you share with Soobin. You like the wheel of routine the two of you constantly spin within and don't wanna change a thing about it.

Although, that is not to say that no change ends up happening.

The wheel of routine makes a detour around a week later, some five weeks after your initiation into the broadcasting club, when you find yourself wrapped in a jacket and still shivering, sitting next to the university’s star athlete on the bleachers in the hockey arena, at six in the morning.

“Is that all? For real?” Choi Yeonjun asks you with his eyes wide in pleasant surprise. “That was quick.”

While you just nod with a chuckle, his girlfriend peers at you from his other side and punches him in the side. “I’ve told you the important questions don’t take that long! Your fangirls just wanna extend the interviews because they wanna ogle you longer.”

“You don’t have to worry about that anymore, I promise,” you tell the girl with a grin, which she returns fully.

“Nah, you don’t even have to tell me because I can see it in your body language,” she mumbles, pressing her cheek into her boyfriend’s shoulder, over which he tips his own head affectionately. “You’re the first ever girl to not view him like a piece of meat. I’m not even kidding.”

“Ah, I’m sorry about that. Your man’s okay, but he’s not my type.”

Yeonjun grins widely at your words, while her girlfriend breaks into laughter because she apparently hasn’t heard anyone use the adjective “okay” for Yeonjun ever before. 

Anyone that tries to get between these two must be crazy, you realize, because you’ve sat with them for less than an hour and can already tell how deeply in love they are. And how stinkingly cute they are together.

Well, the general consensus states that Yeonjun is cute, too. Along with being handsome, beautiful, sexy – and a whole plethora of other adjectives that his fans use for him. But it becomes hard for you to agree with the opinion when your heart, instead, chooses to skip a beat for the dimpled cutie seated two steps away from you, smiling at you from behind his camera.

Right as your eyes meet, Soobin waves a hand at you to let you know he has stopped recording. Nodding, you wave goodbye to the couple next to you and leave the spot to walk up to your cameraman. 

“If I get hypothermia, you’re footing my hospital bills,” you announce as you settle next to a laughing Soobin, intentionally shifting closer to him to hopefully absorb some of his body heat. 

“I told you to bring a jacket, didn’t I?”

“And I did, but it was useless.”

“Because it was denim!” He gives a full belly laugh at that, and the sound is so beautiful to your ears that it becomes hard for you to maintain your scowl of annoyance. “Who brings a denim jacket when asked to carry one?”

“Hey, you texted me at five am!” you whine in complaint. “I could barely open my eyes, my brain wasn’t working!”

“Is that why you didn’t question me?” His tone is a little teasing and so are his raised eyebrows as he smirks at you. “I asked you to come downstairs quickly and you arrived within ten minutes, ready to run away to the mountains with me if I asked. What’s up with that, hm?”

Your cheeks feel on fire at the implication of his words. Clearing your throat, you try to come up with a response, but your heartbeat is too loud in your ears and meeting Soobin’s playful gaze might just make it crash due to the onslaught of overwhelming emotions.

Well. At least you’re feeling a little warmer now.

“You – you said it was a surprise and a huge honor that I’d later thank you for… I got excited,” you mumble, entwining your cold fingers and stuffing your hands beneath your knees to warm them up. “Thanks for thinking of me for this honor but honestly…” You gesture towards Yeonjun with your chin. “I don't really care for athletes. They’re not my type. I prefer brains over brawn. This guy’s taken, anyway, so people should really…”

You trail off when you turn to look at Soobin and find him smiling at you almost knowingly, such unabashed affection in his gaze that your throat closes up with nervousness. 

“I… I – I mean—”

“Yeonjun’s not your type?”

Swallowing past your nerves, you very slowly shake your head. “Is that a surprise?”

He shrugs his shoulders, trying to seem nonchalant, but you see the stiffness that enters his spine at the question. “Yeah, kind of. He’s… well, everyone I know either wants him or wants to be him.”

Wants to be him? Oh… Your lips curve up in a small smile as it begins to make sense to you. “Including you?”

His eyes widen in surprise as he looks at you. “He’s the most popular guy at our uni, Y/N. Who wouldn’t wanna be him?”

You should be surprised by his answer but you somehow aren’t. Because this ties up with a number of things you’ve been unable to fully make sense of about Soobin. Most of all, this explains why it would get him so riled up that people would try to use him and his club – one of the most sacred things he holds in his life – just to get close to Yeonjun. It would also explain why he would have felt insecure and jealous about it.

Emotions such as these are hard to navigate. Within the month that you’ve spent working closely with Soobin, you’ve come to know that he cares about his friends a lot – he truly loves them and would go to extreme lengths to help them whenever and wherever. It pains you that he struggles with this burden on the inside.

You need him to know that he shouldn’t. That he doesn’t need to. 

Which is why you shuffle closer to him, to the point where your thighs brush together, and look into his wide, bunny eyes to tell him that: “When I first saw you, I was fully convinced you were the most popular guy at the uni. And it stayed with me for months until I began my research into uni related facts and opinions and found out about our hockey team. This is why I could never gather enough courage to approach you, you know? You were this tall, handsome and sweet guy – textbook university crush material. How could you not be the most popular?”

Soobin’s cheeks turn pink, then pinker, then bright red, and by the end of your confession, he’s got a trail of redness climbing up to his ears. His eyes stay glued to yours, even as he bites down on his bottom lip.

When you see the way he exhales shakily, you finally release a giggle at his flustered state. “What? Are you really blushing that hard? How're you so cool as an emcee but your cheeks go red when a girl compliments you, Soobin?”

Soobin huffs out a laugh through his nose and rolls his eyes, pursing his lips to bite back his smile. Then he shakes his head. “Not just any girl.” 

This time, you feel a similar blush begin to cover your face. You attempt to joke it away. “I… I’m h–honored, I guess?”

Smirking at your stutters, Soobin simply averts his gaze from yours and goes back to packing up the recording equipment. “Speaking of honors, by the way. This isn't exactly what I was talking about.”

You frown in confusion. “Oh? So what is—wait. Why did you wake me up at five, then?!”

“Woah, easy!” he laughs when you get up and brace your fists on your waist, ready to throw hands. “I brought you here because having your first solo interview with Yeonjun would give you a good boost of publicity for your future with the club.”

“Ow, are we using him for clout?” You scrunch your nose up when Soobin proudly nods.

“Precisely. And also to give you a small rehearsal so that you know what all to focus on when you prepare for the freshman orientation that’s coming up soon.”

You freeze in the middle of a nod.

To prepare you for what? 

Your brain refuses to comprehend the words. He couldn’t possibly be talking about the orientation, right? 

Eyes wide and jaw dropped, you stare at Soobin while he seamlessly continues to speak.

“You're pretty comfortable with the mic and you actually enjoy interacting with groups. I still remember the clips your friend had shown me. Orientation stage requires the ability to interact well and improvise upon the script efficiently, because you’re tasked with making sure these bunch of seventeen year olds feel welcome into their new surroundings. And you, ma’am, happen to be an ace at both the arts.”

Still in disbelief, you sit next to him again and forward a hand to hold onto his forearm, bringing his focus back on you. “Soobin… are you sure? I’ve – I’ve been here for a month, and—”

“And you were amazing even before you joined us.” He turns to you to take both your palms between his, and says your name. A surge of sparks passes through your nerve endings at the warm contact, but Soobin’s gaze grounds you – it’s so open and honest that it compels you to believe every word he says to you. “You’ve only improved with each day, right? You will be great, I’m absolutely sure.”

Nodding slowly, you begin to smile when he does.

Giving your hands a jerk, Soobin points at the couple seated a few feet away. “Just you wait and see, you’re about to go viral when this bit is released. The one girl that remains unaffected by Choi Yeonjun’s charm? Oh, you’re gonna pull so many admirers within a week. Get ready for fanboys crushing on you and sliding into your DMs. Bet they’ll have a fan page up and running before your next public appearance.” 

You break into laughter, craning away from him at his teasing. But Soobin tugs at your hands to pull you back up, this time bringing you closer to him than you were before. The previous traces of playfulness have given way to a small, expectant smile on his face.

"Do I get brownie points for being the first in line?"

What? What? An awkward chuckle leaves you, quickly dwindling when Soobin's smile remains unchanged as he continues to look into your eyes. "What… what are you talking about?"

He tilts his head sweetly, giving your hands a small squeeze as he says your name. "As if I haven't been so obvious… You're the most talented member our group has seen in a while, you know? I can't look away from you when you're working and, like, initially I thought I was being a fan… But then I started to daydream about your bright eyes, gorgeous smiles, your cute giggles, your huge fucking heart that is always so kind to everyone, and…" Soobin pauses with a sigh, cheeks turning red and dimples flashing. "Come on, are you really gonna make me say it?"

Your breath comes in stuttered gasps as you try to gather your thoughts. "Soo–Soobin, I… I… Do you really…?"

"Really like you and really want to go out with you? Yeah, I do.” He smiles at you, bringing your faces close enough to boop your nose with his own. "Is there a problem?"

"You… like me?" You feel terribly confused, somewhat lost, and just a bit scared. If Soobin doesn't mean it with one hundred percent sincerity, you'll never recover from this hurt. So you just try to deflect: "But you barely know me?"

He pulls away with a small scoff of disbelief, eyes widening in surprise. "So it's believable for you to have a crush on me when you'd never even held a conversation with me, but you can't accept that I like you because you're the most beautiful, most intelligent and the most caring person I've ever met in my life?"

Your breath hitches on an exhale – and you're unable to breathe in again for long moments after that. 

He thinks you're beautiful, intelligent and caring.

He likes you.

He actually likes you.

Yeji's words of aggressive affirmative circle in your head: He likes you, boo, and he's probably got a list of reasons why.

She was… actually right? Holy shit…

You're so freaking emotional right now, you might cry.

A cross between a chuckle and a sniffle escapes you despite your attempts of stifling it, catching Soobin by surprise. His hands immediately let go of yours to cup your cheeks in concern.

"Hey, hey, what happened? Please don't think too hard about—"

"Soobin," you cut him off with a whisper. "I like you, too. So, so much."

A slow smile begins to curl his lips up, beautifully. "You do?"

"I have for so long. I… don't think I ever stopped."

"Even with the way I hurt you so bad?" His face becomes somber for a moment. 

"Yes, even then. You've shown me who you really are, Soobin, and that person is amazing. You've proven to me that I caught you in a moment of weakness, and… I think I understand it now more than ever." You smile when his lashes flutter, eyes gazing at you as if in wonder. "Besides, I think I forgave you when you first got me my correct coffee order with that cute smile of yours."

He blushes again. "Ah, so my smile is cute?"

"The cutest." You solemnly nod, cheeks still held in his palms. "Your whole face is."

"Well then, I hope you're okay with my cute face doing this?"

You know what is coming as you watch him erase the space between your mouth and his, and yet you're not nearly prepared for the way your blood turns electric the moment his plush, heart-shaped lips make contact with yours. Pure fire surges through you, body strung tight one moment and then fallen pliant in his hold the next.

Soobin's thumbs brush against the heated flesh of your cheeks, as if attempting to comfort your loud heartbeat – but it's to no avail. Your heart works faster and faster with every push of his mouth against yours, so full of giddiness that it eventually seems to levitaties up and above your body, leaving you weightless and breathless.

You try to kiss him back to the best of your abilities, but you feel like you've been entranced – held in a dreamlike state that has rendered you completely immobile and turned your brain to goo.

Soobin seems to recognise your condition, somehow, pulling away from the kiss with a chuckle brushed against your slightly parted lips. Lidded eyes look into yours with a smile held in them, his chocolate irises turned to thin rings due to how dilated his pupils are. 

"You good?"

His voice comes out all hoarse and breathless, making your stomach clench with desire and you're instantly spurred into motion.

Reaching out with both your hands, you grip onto the back of Soobin's neck and the side of his jaw, and this time pull him in for a proper kiss with equal participation. His breath hitches for a moment, but is released in the form of a small grunt when you open your mouth against his – and that is all you need to absolutely lose yourself into the taste and feel of Choi Soobin.

You would've probably stayed lost for quite a bit too, had a loud whistle not echoed around the arena, making both you and Soobin jump apart with startled gasps. Wide eyed, you look at each other, and then two stairs above you.

Yeonjun's girlfriend is grinning at you with her entire teeth on display, while the guy himself has his arm extended towards the two of you, thumb pointed downwards.

"Her first interview isn't even out yet, dude!" he calls out, booing Soobin with his entire arm. "Literally obliterating her popularity before she could even gather bitches, you're so lame and insecure, Soob, boo hoooo!"

Soobin tosses a random plastic case towards the guy, whining into your ear as he rests his chin on your shoulder grumpily. You giggle at his pout, entwining your hands together to bring them up and press a soft kiss to the back of his.

"Are we going on that date before or after the interview is aired, then?" you tease the guy, wiggling your eyebrows.

Soobin glares at you through playfully narrowed eyes beneath lowered eyebrows, until you're giggling again and he's kissing your smile. "Definitely before."

© yeonboy 2023 // do not steal, copy or repost. respect your local content creators, kaythanks.

[kimingyuslover]

MINGYU FIC RECS

creep by @smileysuh (smut, ghost!mingyu, serial killer!mingyu)

🙂 preview. “If the roles were reversed - if you were a ghost bound to this apartment forever - you’re saying you wouldn’t watch me get naked every day?” He’s definitely got a point. As your eyes skim Mingyu's perfect form again, that tingle returns between your legs. There’s no reason for him to be as sexy as he is- murders aren’t the only shocking thing this man has under his belt and you can see that now. 

work husband by @rubyreduji (ft. wonwoo, fluff, coworker!au)

➥ your two coworkers get a bit too involved in becoming your “work husband”

rules by @smileysuh (ft. wonwoo, smut)

🙂 synopsis.  Morning sex with Mingyu is always really amazing- but it comes with rules. 

anteric by @smileysuh (ft. wonwoo, smut, friends to lovers!au)

🙂 preview. when you bump into the guy that ghosted you, your model best friend and roommate, Mingyu, steps up to be your fake boyfriend for the night... and when the asshole is hired at your workplace, your other roommate, twitch gamer Wonwoo, is roped into the charade too - “polyamory exists dude, get over it.”

kiss, kiss, fall in love! by @viastro (humor, fluff)

ミ☆ synopsis: in which you and mingyu have been dating for a month but still haven’t kissed.

love and warmth by @viastro (angst, fluff, humor, fake relationship!au)

ミ☆ synopsis: in which you blackmail your employee, mingyu, to marry you in order not to get deported back to canada due to your expired visa. [inspired by the proposal]

baby all i really want is your attention by @viastro (enemies to lovers!au, humor, fluff, bad boy!mingyu)

ミ☆ synopsis: you and mingyu have been academic rivals since the beginning of your high school career. having always aimed for the #1 spot, mingyu would beat you without even needing to study. now dedicating all your time into studying at the local library, you find yourself wondering who keeps neatly packing your things and waking you up each time you fall asleep while studying.

kim mingyu's unhelpful guide to losing your virginity by @shuaflix (smut, fluff, humor, college au, best friends to lovers au, friends with benefits au)

❝ you’re telling me that you, Miss Dick Repellent, had sex with Captain Chastity By Choice over here. ❞

promising young woman by @mphountitled (smut)

→ Summary: "If you wanted me to get you pregnant so bad, all you had to was ask."

oh no, he's hot by @ncteez (smut, dilf!mingyu)

The first time you drove your very trashed best friend home was because you had a crush on him. All the times you drove him home after that were because…well, his dad is sexy.

or the one where you have tension with your crush’s dad at four in the morning and maybe secretly fuck while said crush is asleep on the couch. 

vice & virtues by @lovelyhan (smut, enemies to lovers!au, unresolved sexual tension, bodyguard!mingyu)

being from one of the most opulent families in the city, you're used to getting everything you want. but when you realize that your hot bodyguard is strictly off-limits, you treat him like anything else you can't have: with unbridled hostility.

parties, Yachts and Wishful thinking by @ithinkilikeit-reactions (smut)

Hallmark moment by @onlymingyus (fluff, angst, romance, crack, parent au) pt. 2 smut

synopsis: The kids have been watching too many Christmas movies, and are now determined to have their very own magical moment with their parents.

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

Referring to how Leona is an actually good leader, it's still very funny to think about how annoyed Vil must be when Epel idolized Leona while fighting for his life struggling under Vil's tutelage. Like "how could you prefer that good-for-nothing-except-his-face over ME?" kinda thing. (Yes I love all of them but I love to see them suffer more <3)

[Referencing this post!]

Leona definitely projects very different images depending on the circumstances! His club and dorm members all look up to him because, to them, he come off as a role model. He's strong, cunning, and exudes confidence. To everyone else (people he doesn't actively lead, or people he stands on par with in terms of power and influence), he's seen as lazy and rude because Leona does not care for putting on airs and finds social grace tiring to deal with.

Nowhere is this dichotomy better exemplified than in Epel's Birthday Jacket vignettes. In them, Epel, a first year and a Magift Club member, describes Leona as someone who is good at looking out for others like him. This confuses his interviewer, Floyd, who responds that it "doesn't sound like" the Sea Lion-senpai he's familiar with. Epel then confesses to not really seeing Leona much outside of club, so he doesn't actually know about what Leona is like most of the time. This just goes to show that Leona naturally shines and is at his best when he's in a scenario where he has to lead others.

Now, regarding Vil and his feelings on Leona... 🤔 It's true that Vil dislikes Leona (and, more specifically, his attitude) and may be disapproving of Epel idolizing the guy, but I get the sense that those feelings stem in part from disappointment, not just blind hatred or not liking how Leona dresses/speaks. Vil's someone who has exceedingly high standards for himself and for the people he surrounds himself with. He despises it when people don't give a task their all, or don't live up to their full potential. That is exactly the case with Leona. Vil has a VERY keen and discerning eye; I suspect that he noticed a long time ago that Leona's not putting forth all of his effort and just doing the bare minimum to scrape by, and that's what further stokes Vil's frustrations with him. An example of this is the very superficial aspect of Leona's looks. Vil admits that Leona has a handsome face, but doesn't dress the part at all. The same goes for his other traits and abilities, and even his grades (which are low due to poor attendance even though Leona himself is insanely smart). That's the thing: Leona could be great, but instead he's wasting it all and choosing to not be "his best" at all times--an ideology which exists in blatant opposition to Vil. Here we have two powerful, intelligent, talented individuals who worked hard to get to where they are now (even though they were already born into affluent families). They didn't choose to just coast by life on their family's names alone. One of them literally makes a living off of showing the world how perfect he is, and all the effort he puts in to achieving that perfection. But the other has gone the other route, not willing to put forth that effort to anything that he doesn't find useful or interesting. They've both become disillusioned with the world, which has provided them nothing in spite of all the times they tried to prove themselves. They weren't rewarded with a heroic role, nor the coveted crown., but they've got the charisma that inspires others to follow them and to show them respect. They can recognize others' strengths and are in positions where they can guide others towards those strengths. They're so alike, and I think that only feeds their dislike of one another. To Leona, Vil's a try-hard that always changes his personality to look good for the public. To Vil, Leona's callous and carelessly tossing away his own potential. It makes them a worthy rival of the other.

DBKHILdsbiDIvqfosd1436g17b Okay, I kind of strayed a bit from the initial ask, but yeah!! Vil would probably be annoyed with Epel looking up to Leona because Leona isn't at 100% all of the time (whereas Vil tries to be). The two have very different ideas of how their energy is best spent, and with Vil being Epel's dorm leader and all, he feels like it's his responsibility to lead Epel the "Pomefiore" way, not Leona's way.

[writeroutoftime]

hi!! can i request a jamie one shot- with introducing the reader to the coaches and making it a big deal

words: 690

a/n: okay, I just love the idea of ted and all the coaches being such an important part of jamie's life that introducing his s/o to them is such a big step!! hopefully this is what you were looking for, sorry for the wait, but please enjoy!

oOoOo

"Babe, don't you think I should be the one who's more nervous here?" you teased, watching your boyfriend of two months psych himself up inside his car for the third time in the past ten minutes.

"I know, I know." Jamie tried to reassure himself. "You shouldn't be nervous at all. It's just their opinion means a lot to me."

Your heart melted slightly at Jamie's confession. Of course, this was an important step in your relationship to him. There weren't many positive, male figures in Jamie's life, and you were happy he had found some in his coaches.

"Well," you began slowly. "I'm really excited to meet them. And it means a lot to me that you even want to introduce me."

"'Course I wanna introduce you, babe. Gotta show everyone how lucky I am." Jamie smirked, coming back to his usual self.

A laugh bubbled past your lips, and you leaned over to interlock your fingers with Jamie's, pressing a reassuring kiss to his knuckles. "Lead the way, then."

oOoOo

Once you got Jamie out of the car, it didn't take him long to drag you through the dog track and towards the gaffer's office. From afar, you could see four men huddled together, and you suddenly felt your heart begin to race. If Jamie had been feeling nervous, you were ten times more nervous to meet some of his role models.

"Jamie Tartt!" Ted's voice called out, alerting everyone to your presence before you could run away. "To what do we owe the pleasure?"

"Well, uh, just wanted to stop by and introduce my partner here." he said, gesturing towards you as if presenting an award.

Beard and Ted shared a knowing look before turning their attention back to you and Jamie. Ted reached forward, grinning from ear to ear with his arm outstretched. "Well, howdy there. It's a real pleasure to meet the person Jamie's been jabbering on about. I'm Ted."

"Oh, of course I know who you are, Coach Lasso. It's an honor to meet you, all of you, in fact." you admitted, slightly bashful.

"None of that Coach business. Just Ted is fine." he insisted. "And, uh, this here is Beard, Nate the Great, and I'm sure you also know Mr. Roy Kent himself." Ted explained, suddenly leaning in towards you. "I promise he ain't as scary as he looks."

You couldn't help but let out a giggle, suddenly feeling much more comfortable in Ted's presence. Eventually, you and Jamie leant against the wall, getting to know four of the people who inspired such positive change in your boyfriend.

At one point, Jamie left to take a call, leaving you alone with his coaches. A comfortable silence fell over the group before Ted looked up at you with a comforting smile, words of wisdom ready to pour from his lips.

"I gotta say, it's been real nice to meet ya, y/n. I wasn't joking when I said Jamie's always mentioning you. And, now I don't mean to lecture, and I'm sure it goes without saying, but Jamie's a really special person. I know his past might be a bit dicey, but he's really put in the work to be his authentic self. And I think I speak for all of us when I say to take care of him, okay?" Ted asked, with Bread, Nate, and Roy all nodding their heads in agreement.

Tears began to prick at your eyes, so you bit your lip and nodded your head in agreement. "I promise." you whispered, so happy to be apart of Jamie's team.

Seconds later, the man in question popped his head back in the office and took note of the change in tone. "Everything all good in here?" he questioned a bit wearily.

"It's perfect." you reassured, reaching out to grab his hand once more.

And so, you said your goodbyes, promised to stop by for the next home game, and walked out with Jamie the same way you walked in - hand in hand. This time, feeling a little closer to the man you loved and who you were grateful to know.

[eternal-love]

Austin and Me

“Elvis-mania”

“Wife to the ‘king’. Icon to the world. Destined for more.”

Summary: At 18 years old, she fell in love with Austin, at 20 years old, she became his wife, by 22, she was his doll. In which Cynthia’s life changed drastically after falling head over heels with a man that promised her the moon and the stars. She takes us down the memory lane of what could’ve been— the perfect marriage.

Inspired by the book: Elvis and Me by Priscilla Presley.

I do not condemn any of the portrayals I decide to do about certain people, it’s just fanfiction. And it would be divided in parts.

English isn’t my first language so I’m trying my best!

Warning: mentions of COVID-19

MASTERLIST

COVID-19 took the world by storm and what was meant to just be some months in Australia became almost a year. Austin took this to his advantage to get more into the Elvis role, I supported him with any research he needed and with his weight gain, his accent. At first it was really enjoyable, I mean, dancing and singing to Elvis’ songs in the middle of the night, watching his movies and performances, watching Austin trying to recreate them. But then it started to get more serious, he started to go method.

I wasn’t a fan of method acting, I’ve never tried it before but I did have some co-stars that did it and it was like hell on earth, I’d like to think that he was going for a Marlon Brando route but it was starting to feel like Jared Leto when he played the Joker.

“Sit still!” I laughed as he didn’t stop moving around while I placed the hair dye on his brownish hair, he wasn’t a natural dark-haired man, as a boy his hair was this beautiful blonde.

“It smells disgusting, God, how I miss your hairdresser.” He said with a chuckle, his voice was a little thicker, a bit of a southern drawl to it.

“See? and you called me ridiculous whenever I went with her. I don’t know what she uses but it smells delicious.” I had my hairdresser back in California, she did my more trickier hairstyles, like the beehive ponytail and she did dye Austin’s hair black a couple of times before.

“Or maybe we were just high from all the chemicals, who knows?” He laughed again, yeah, maybe we did not ventilate well enough right now, I moved towards the window and opened it, not remembering that my gloves were pretty much still with hair dye, I stained that whole window up. To this day I still remember how much the landlord charged us for that one. After 30 minutes, we both kneeled beside the bathtub, I started rinsing his hair.

“Baby, you gonna drown me or something!” He said to me, if the water wasn’t too cold then it was too hot, or I was too aggressive with the rinsing.

“Then so be it!” I said to him, shampooing his hair.

Afterwards I even dried it and styled it, he saw himself in the mirror again, he finally had jet black hair again after months of just having this weird combination between black and blondish hair.

“I don’t know— I feel a little silly. Like an impersonator.” He had a grimace as he moved his hair side to side.

“You look really good. I promise.” I smiled at him and then kissed his cheek. “You can do this. Now let’s watch Viva Las Vegas for the fifth time, I’m finally getting the Ann-Margret dance.”

We did our research and everything, we knew little facts about Elvis, he liked knowing about Priscilla, I loved Priscilla. Austin found out this really interesting fact about Elvis and Priscilla’s bedroom time. As we were in bed, trying to spice things up.

“Wait, baby. We oughta try something new.” He said as he pulled away and got up from bed, he rummaged through a box of cameras we had, disposable ones, vintage ones, instants. He bought out an instax camera, with its film. “So— I read that Elvis and Priscilla did this and I wanted to try it out.”

“I’m up for it.” I smiled as I took off my nightgown coverup.

We started taking Polaroids, he made me pose, I was his model for the night. He grabbed my chin tenderly and moved it to the right direction, he got on top of me taking picture after picture. We even tried dress up, him as a policeman and doctor, I was a secretary, a maid, a teacher, we tried everything in the book.

He’d get in between my legs, kissing me all over, taking Polaroids while he was at it, taking Polaroids while I was at it, going down on him.

It was magical but it did make me feel ashamed whenever I looked at my purchase history and saw all the Polaroid films I bought during this time. We spent hundred of dollars in just the films for the instax.

I had a really good time with Austin but it didn’t really last long, until he submerged himself totally on Elvis. At first it was the voice and then it was the food, then it was his behavior. I couldn’t even remember the last time he slept with me. All I heard was Elvis, Elvis, Elvis— and not in the good way. Look, I understood him and everything but it was making me go nuts, I’m a big Elvis fan but he was just going bonkers. I lost count on how many books he read or how many hour he spent looking at Elvis stuff, he barely even spent time with Lori. I wanted to die whenever he called me ‘woman’ or ‘satnin’.

There were many times when he basically shut himself out, in the bedroom or the beach, it was like he was trying to torture me nonstop. I felt so useless because I wasn’t able to help him either. Whenever I did try to help him, he’d yell at me.

“Baby, please— you need to sleep.” I knocked on the office door, he had been there all day.

“Don’t bother me, woman.” He said sternly, I, being the stubborn I was, tried to get him out of there.

“Baby— you don’t need to indulge so much in Elvis. You should really come to sleep.” I knocked on the door once again, all I heard was silence afterwards but then the door opened aggressively.

“Are ya deaf or something?! Woman, I don’t want to hear another mouth comin’ out of your damn mouth. Ya hear me?” He said very aggressively, even he was taken aback. “Baby, you gotta let me do my damn job, so go to sleep, I’ll catch up to you later.” He dismissed me with his hand.

The king sized bed felt really empty without him there, cuddling me, kissing my head or forehead, we barely even slept on the same bed so in those cases, I’d bring Lori with me and hug her all night. I woke up to every sudden movement, thinking it was Austin but it was just my imagination playing cruel tricks on me. And whenever we did have alone time in bed, I tried wearing my cutest nightgowns, I even wore perfume to bed, Miss Dior, I adored that scent and so did Austin. God, I even wore my makeup to bed!

“Hey.” I whispered while I got in bed besides him, his back leaning against the headboard as he read Train to Memphis, I started kissing his neck softly, rubbing his bicep.

“Calm down, satnin.” He said, not taking his eyes off the book. “Ya know I’m trying to pay attention to this.” He kept on reading and reading in silence until he finally spoke up. “There a thousand women who would actually care to help and listen to me while I do my damn job. You gonna sit and listen or not?”

I stopped, I laid back and stared at him, storms in my eyes. I was trying everything to keep him looking at me yet nothing worked.

“But-“

“But nothing, woman.” He said, there was silence again, he kept on reading and mumbling the words. I sat up on the bed, hugging my knees very subtly.

“I can’t stand it! It’s driving me crazy! I don’t want to hear you anymore!” I yelled out in frustration, I even closed my eyes.

“I see a mad woman.” He said on that pretentious mumble.

“No. A woman with needs that needs to be desired. You can have your Elvis books and me too.”

He looked at me and without even saying anything, she went back to reading his book, leaving me feeling humiliated.

I’ve been dying to write this part— be prepared to see our Cynthia suffer.

[novelmonger]

Why Steve Rogers and Sharon Carter are perfect for each other*

*With caveats: 1) a large portion of Sharon's personality and backstory I'll reference are my own creation, because the MCU keeps on forgetting she exists; 2) F&WS!Sharon is not the real Sharon but is a Skrull or comes from another dimension or something; and 3) the Steve who dances with Peggy at the end of Endgame is not the Steve I'm talking about. If any of this is confusing, please feel free to ask!

For starters, they're clearly attracted to each other, and it seems obvious they're interested in pursuing their relationship, which is more than I can say for some people that get shipped with Steve.

While attracted to each other, they don't let that get in the way of doing their job or fulfilling their responsibilities.

They have the same/similar sense of morals/justice (noticing something fishy about S.H.I.E.L.D. and standing up against it; breaking the law to save an innocent man's life).

The kind of person Steve needs in a partner (romantic or otherwise) is someone with compassion who will also challenge him when needed and not just crumble when the going gets tough. Sharon is usually gentle and kind, but she also doesn't take any crap and isn't afraid to speak up when it's necessary.

Steve has a tendency to not ask for help and try to do everything himself, because there have been so many times when there was no one to turn to, or he felt he had to prove he could do it when no one said he could. But Sharon doesn't wait to be asked for help. If she sees something that needs to be done, she takes the initiative and dives right in. That will be so important to their relationship, because Sharon won't let Steve do everything alone.

Steve's love language is Acts of Service, and Sharon has always struck me as the kind of person who would step up and help out as soon as she sees a need. Sharon's love language is Words of Affirmation, and Steve is surprisingly good at finding the right words to say to both inspire, and make someone feel good about themselves.

Sharon always interacts with Steve as Steve first, Captain America second. She doesn't fawn over him or expect him to be perfect, she doesn't pat herself on the back for managing to catch the eye of the world's first superhero. She just sees him for what he is: a man. That's got to be pretty rare for Steve, and would make her even more attractive to him.

What Sharon needs most in a partner is someone she can trust. Someone she can let her guard down around, who will be honest with her so they don't have to play guessing games. And Steve is as honest as they come. He's bad at lying, and he's always just himself around her, so any problems that arise are out in the open and they can work through them together.

Steve's first love was Peggy, and Sharon was really close to Peggy. Not only would she have heard lots of stories of what Steve is like, but she also would have been influenced by Peggy. Peggy is one of Sharon's most important role models, so the person that she wants to become (and is already well on her way to becoming) is exactly the sort of person Steve is looking for in the first place. No, they're not the same, and I don't think Steve would ever expect her to be. But the strength and kindness he admired in Peggy is also present in Sharon.

Steve and Sharon are both the kind of people who, once they make a commitment to someone, will not abandon them. This is perhaps the most important thing for a couple, because at the end of the day, no matter how compatible you are, no matter how "in love" you are or how much "chemistry" you have, what matters when the rubber meets the road is commitment. And Steve and Sharon are the kind of people who will put in the effort to make it work even when it's hard, even when other things change. Even when they both grow old and ugly and weak, they will be there for each other.

[cider-est]

The full line up will take some time so for now have this!!!

Designing process under here

General thoughts: Wanted to make designs that fit the characters but also that gave the vibe that they're children (like 8-12 years old).Thats why, in some cases, the clothes dont exactly match: they're kids who are dressing themselves! Main inspiration was "cute kid clothes" from pinterest and memories from primary school lmao. Their names are also their signatures!

Pomme: Hijabi Pomme!!! My original designs for Pomme didnt have one, mostly because I wasnt sure if children that young wore hijabs (still not sure tbh, but should be fine i hope) but its cute so im keeping it. It defies gravity and has apples on it!! She has fake fairy wings that children wear, MASSIVE beret. Also she's a demon! She has a horn on her right which matches with Dapper, and a leaf shaped tail! Shes wearing light up sketchers (though I might change it in the future)

Tallullah: As you can see, theres 3 Tallullahs since i couldnt decide which design to go with. The one with a yellow jumper and the one with the poncho are more similar to popular fanon design, while the purple jacket is more "emo" (but it fits her "sensitive" personality more imo). She has a Poppy and an anvil cat pin in her beanie and some purple hearing aids. Also her hair is short because its always bothered me people making it long since her model has short hair. Like girls can have short hair too!! (its canon now too YIPPE though i drew it before she got a haircut). She's the tallest egg!

Chayenne: One of my favourite eggos, I really like the fanon design so I mostly based it off that. Only thing to note is that his floatie emotes, like it mirrors his expressions and he has swimming shorts with wave patterns. Also he's one of the shorter eggs (I find his height difference with Tallullah very cute, especially since he has a "protector" role).

Richarlyson: Again: fanon design is perfect, no notes there. Only thing I changed was I made his T-shirt MASSIVE (you cant tell since his arms are up but it is big) and hes always using a running prosthetic since he's so hyperactive, it'd be a pain to keep changing it over and over again. He has an ankle bracelet aswell, each bead one of his parents! Though I may in the future change up his hair, I dont like how I drew it😭😭.

Thanks for reading and ALSO: if you have any feedback on any of the designs Id love to hear it!

[good-beans]

You talked a little while ago about why you don't think Shidou would make a good father to Amane (agreed) and proposed the idea of Mahiru adopting Amane. That's cute but I want to tell you about my post-MILGRAM headcanon:

Amane joins the Kajiyamas

Not Fuuta specifically adopting her, but like him taking her back to his family's house. I'm sure they'd have a spare room

I think people don't think about Fuuta's homelife much, or if they do they take Fuuta's one interrogation question where he calls his dad an old fogey and assume its like, abusive

And don't get me wrong, I don't think the Kajiyama household are perfect. Fuuta' beautician sister surely hasn't helped when it comes to Fuuta's body image issues and I'm betting they're all a bunch of tsunderes too embarrassed to say they love each other

But in a series where most of the abused characters are still convinced their abuser loved them/acted out of love. Seeing a guy not be afraid to call his dad a loser is almost a green flag

I think it'd be good for Amane to not necessarily be adopted as the lone child to a single parent but get to be introduced to a very different style of family unit from her own One where its normal to express different opinions or disagreements or even have arguments and not have it be the end of the world

Amane already has a snarky side to her, I bet it'd flourish in a brash household like the Kajiyama's (or at least how I imagine them to be)

OOHHH wait I love that so much! >:O

I agree -- I never interpreted Fuuta's family as abusive or harmful, just not super close and struggling a bit after his mother left. (And yeah, all as openly emotional as him😭) They seem stable and very capable to taking in a extra, very well-behaved child. Assuming Fuuta is the way he is because of them, that atmosphere of being very honest and forward would work well for her. They say things as they are, little by little pointing out the harmful parts of her worldview. Like you said, none of them make excuses about harmful behavior stemming from love, so she'd get a really healthy dose of truth in that area. She never feels coddled or treated like a baby. They care for her while treating her very maturely.

I absolutely love how well she and Fuuta get along, with that snarky side to her that you mentioned. It would allow her to fit in well in the new household, getting the sense of belonging she'll lose after leaving the cult. Also, seeing how Fuuta and his sister let things slip and aren't perfect sons/daughters, she'll be able to relax about earning a parent's love through perfect behavior. She'll probably stay exactly the same, but her stress about it will fade <3

I doubt Fuuta's father can ever replace the hole she'll have from her own father, but the addition of an older sister will be huge. Amane will never get the feeling her mother is being replaced, but the woman will still fill the gap of the older, same-gender role model she needs. Her beautician job may throw Amane at first (being an indulgence in vanity), but it isn't as in-your-face as other careers. I think she could definitely ease Amane into accepting it, and over time, accepting her own personal "indulgence."

Plus, her moving in would also be really good for Fuuta! I think he'd recognize there's a ton of fun things she missed out on, and that heroic side of him outweighs the part that cringes: he gripes and groans about going to "kid places," but he's always the one to announce "I can't believe you've never been to __, we're going right now!!" This allows him to touch grass leave the house and experience his own life to the fullest. He's able to channel his desire to help society into a healthier outlet. Also, seeing her studying habits and plans for the future might even inspire him to do the same. (might.) He becomes the stereotypical good big brother, though of course he denies it viciously...

I have recently been going insane over their friendship so I'm completely taken with this idea OUGH thank you for telling me ;-----;

[cha-melodius]

A ship of your choice firstprince, please!

A location—(Although I dare someone to send the White House or Kensington, I WILL make it into an AU. I have ideas.) Also if you want a particular historical setting, you can feel free to include a time period too. GO NUTS, please.

Well sheesh, with that kind of tease, I suggest both the White House and Kensington Palace, circa the year 2068.

I look forward to seeing what you choose to do with this! I am certain to enjoy it, whatever it is ❤️

(This was such an intriguing prompt, and I hope you enjoy what I did with it. Also happiest of birthdays to @dumbpeachjuice, who's incredible fic "make me your god" inspired this one.)

The Impossible Soul

(M, 7.2k, read it below or on AO3)

“I shouldn’t let you do this for me,” Henry tells him in the moments before.

“You should know by now that you’re not letting me do anything, sweetheart,” Alex returns. “Anyway, I’m doing this for us.”

“Even though we still won’t be able to be together?”

“I told you, it’s only temporary. Once my mom’s no longer in office, I won’t be in the spotlight. But I can’t leave you trapped here for another four years. I won’t.” Alex cups Henry’s cheek with his hand and brushes a thumb against the corner of his perfect mouth. “Besides, what if I left you here and you forgot about me?”

Henry covers Alex’s hand with his, warm and soft. “Never.”

~~~~~

One Year Earlier

Alex didn’t think he could be surprised by AIDEs at this point, but the ones populating Kensington are really something else.

“It’s a pleasure to have you here,” Prince Henry says, his blue eyes crinkling slightly at the corners as he shakes Alex’s hand.

Alex can’t help but stare. The eyes are the hardest part, or so Nora says. All the Secret Service agents’ eyes have a kind of strange metallic glint behind them. Often it’s not even noticeable, but if you look too closely, it becomes obvious. Prince Henry’s eyes are flawless, though. Just endless, perfect blue. Really, the only flaw Alex can see in this model is that they made him inhumanly beautiful. No real person has lips like that.

Henry’s hand is warm in his, his grip firm but not too tight. Alex forces himself to let go.

“Yeah, thanks,” he says, looking around rather than staying trapped in Henry’s piercing gaze.

Palace servants flit about, attending to all of the gala guests’ needs along with those of the princes and princess. Apparently, it’s a perfect recreation of the palace’s operations from the turn of the century, back before the monarchy was abolished. Now they just keep fake royalty here, like they can’t quite let go of the idea. Alex has never understood it, and visiting hasn’t really helped. Of all the things he’s had to do on this goodwill trip, this is by far the strangest, pretending to hobnob with royalty at a fancy ball like anyone does this shit anymore. Then again, maybe showing off is the whole point, same as it ever was.

It’s not like Alex isn’t used to interacting with AIDEs. The use of Artificially Intelligent Dynamic Entities is still limited more broadly, but they’re common in dangerous or sensitive jobs. The entire Secret Service was replaced by them two administrations ago; their loyalty is never in question, nor their willingness to protect their charges at all costs. Use of AIDEs for entertainment purposes is growing in popularity too, like the Kensington ones. They play the role they’re programmed to without deviation, they don’t need to eat or sleep (though they usually do, to better mimic humanity), they can be abused or even killed without repercussion and, most importantly, they don’t need to be paid.

“I hope your visit to London has been pleasant?” Prince Henry asks with perfectly-tuned amiability. It makes Alex want to push a little, though he knows Nora would tell him it’s a futile exercise.

“Mostly I’ve been spending it in lots of meetings,” Alex says. “Kinda wish I had time to go out and see more of the city.”

“I can understand that,” Henry replies, glancing toward the doors in a way that Alex would call wistful if he didn’t know better.

Can he? Do they let them leave the palace? Probably not. Does Henry want to, though? That would be a weird thing to program into an AIDE that’s supposed to stay in one place.

“I guess you probably don’t get out much, huh?” Alex asks.

Henry smiles indulgently at his bad joke. “Not so much, no. Makes it ever-so-difficult to meet people, you know.”

Alex laughs despite himself. He’s never met an AIDE that was so self-aware. If he tries to joke with Cash about taking a day off, the agent just stares at Alex blankly. “You must talk with a lot of visitors to the palace, though.”

“I do,” Henry allows, taking a sip of his champagne. “Most of them aren’t very interesting, though. All they do is ask what it’s like to be a prince.”

“And? What’s it like?”

Henry smirks a little. “Bloody boring. Not that I can tell them that, you understand.”

“Yeah,” Alex agrees, a little lost for words. Henry is nothing like what he was expecting. “So, what do you want to talk about, then?”

In response, Henry takes a step closer. He smells like fancy cologne, like linens and fresh grass, and something inside him seems to tug Alex closer. “Can I show you something? Still inside the palace, of course.”

Alex’s eyes flick over to June and Nora, chatting with someone he doesn’t recognize—AIDE or government official, he can’t tell—and the Secret Service agents linger at the periphery of the ballroom. He knows shouldn’t leave the event, but honestly chances are no one would notice he was gone. Plus, his curiosity is through the roof.

Henry takes him to a library. There are barricades set up to keep the visiting public to certain areas, but Henry slips past them and Alex follows him. Watches as Henry walks down the rows with a small, private smile curving his lips, trailing a finger along the spines. He pauses and plucks a book off the shelf—Pride and Prejudice, Alex can just make out—and smooths a hand lovingly over the cover.

“I love to read,” Henry says, almost to himself. His eyes flick up to Alex’s, shining brightly in the low light. “All those worlds… They’re incredible, don’t you think?”

Alex doesn’t know what to say. AIDEs don’t read. They don’t dream of other worlds.

“The rest of your… family,” Alex says, diplomatically. “Are they like you? I mean, with the reading.”

Henry laughs quietly and shakes his head. “No. No one’s like me.”

Alex is rapidly coming to that same conclusion.

~~~~~

“There’s nothing special about the Kensington AIDEs,” Nora tells him, sounding more beleaguered than necessary. “We talked to Princess Beatrice for like an hour, it was the same as any other AIDE. Pleasant, but a little vacant. The eyes are a neat trick, though.”

“I’m telling you, Henry is different,” Alex insists. “We talked all night. He’s aware of what he is. He reads and he thinks and he feels. Fuck, Nora, he dreams when he sleeps.”

“AIDEs don’t sleep. Not really.”

“Henry does.”

“Someone just got a little creative with the programming,” Nora says dismissively. “He’s supposed to say those things to make him seem more real. If you went back, he probably wouldn’t even remember you.”

“And what if he did?”

“Alex—”

“What if he did remember me? What if all of it really is real?” Alex presses.

Nora frowns at him. “Then there are some major ethical implications that current AI laws are frankly not prepared to deal with,” she says bluntly. “Look, it’s just not possible. They don’t have feelings, period. He’s just a fancy computer.”

“Fine. Whatever you say,” Alex huffs, mostly because he doesn’t want to have this argument anymore. She’s not going to change his mind, and clearly he’s not going to change hers.

“Promise me you’ll leave this alone. We can’t afford some kind of diplomatic incident because you got a crush on the prince AIDE.”

Alex glares at her. It’s not a crush. “I’ll leave it.”

He absolutely will not.

~~~~~

Cash doesn’t blink—literally—when Alex tells him that he’ll be visiting Kensington Palace again rather than the scheduled afternoon tea with some MP he couldn’t care less about. He sends his apologies with an excuse that he’s not feeling well and heads to the main entrance with the rest of the tourists. He has no idea where Henry might be, but AIDEs don’t take days off, so it stands to reason that he’ll be somewhere acting princely, or whatever he does all day.

Unfortunately, he gets stuck on a tour led by an AIDE with a dirty blonde bob and green eyes who most definitely shows none of Henry’s spark. It’s boring as fuck, and he almost bails more than once, but this place is huge and he’d probably get lost forever before he found Henry. They go past a few rooms Alex recognizes, but there’s no sign of the ‘royal family’ anywhere, and Alex starts to worry. Maybe they only trot them out for big events. Maybe you have to buy a special tour package. Ugh, his mom is going to kill him if he ditches any more events.

“Next, we’ll visit the palace library,” the guide says, and Alex perks up.

This has got to be his chance. Henry had said they were basically allowed free run of the palace so long as they remained in areas where they’d run into visitors during operating hours, and Alex knows there’s nowhere Henry would rather be than the library. Sure enough, he’s reading in a massive armchair by one of the windows, though he gets up when the tour group enters and comes over to talk to them. His face is fixed in a pleasant, bland smile as he looks over the group, until his eyes land on Alex. The flash of recognition is clear, even if he recovers quickly, and Alex’s heart thuds a little harder in his chest.

He lingers toward the back as the rest of the visitors ask Henry about living in the palace and being a prince—exactly as he said they would. He answers graciously, of course, the words so bland and scripted that Alex almost wonders if maybe he hadn’t been drinking too much champagne during the gala. But he hangs back when everyone else files out, and as soon as Henry turns to him, his eyes practically light up.

“You came back,” Henry says, his voice soft with something like wonder.

“Of course I did,” Alex replies. “We didn’t finish our conversation.”

Henry ducks his head, blond hair falling alluringly over his forehead as his cheeks turn pink. The way their bodies mimic human physiology is astounding sometimes. “I suppose we didn’t. Would you care to walk with me in the gardens? It’s a lovely day.”

“Can we do that?”

“Ironically, you’re allowed so long as you have one of us with you, and I’m allowed so long as I’m with a guest,” Henry explains. “Plus, you’re a foreign dignitary. No one will bother us.”

“Sure you wanna be seen with me? My sister would say I’m the furthest thing from dignified,” Alex says, grinning probably a little too broadly.

Henry’s smile slants mischievous as he steps close enough for Alex to get a noseful of linen and fresh grass again. “Maybe I like that about you.”

~~~~

“Have you ever been outside the palace?” Alex asks on his next visit. Nora had given him a look like she knew exactly what he’s been up to when he’d begged off from an official tour of the British Museum, even though he hasn’t brought up Henry again. The fact that she’d found him down a rabbit hole of academic papers about AIDE psychology probably hadn’t helped anything.

“Not that I remember,” Henry answers. It’s rainy today, so they’re ensconced in some kind of parlor with ornate, uncomfortable furniture. The fact that Henry only knows this life is outrageous. Has he ever truly been comfortable? Does anyone even care? “They gave me a basic knowledge of London as a background. I’m supposed to be fond of the Victoria & Albert Museum, but I’ve never seen it myself.”

“That’s fucked up,” Alex blurts.

Henry shrugs. “It’s just how it is.”

“How does none of this ever seem to bother you?”

“It can’t bother me, Alex. My entire existence has been—and will be—only this, and if I allowed any of it to bother me, I’d go mad.”

This does not, in fact, make Alex feel any better about the situation. “Guess I’ll just have to be angry for the both of us, then.”

“I’d rather you weren’t,” Henry says mildly. “It’s no use being upset about my life. Nothing can be changed.”

“Bad idea to tell me something can’t be changed, sweetheart. I fucking love a challenge,” Alex returns. He’s not joking, but Henry laughs anyway. “I’m serious, Henry. You deserve to get things you want, too.”

“What if I said I wanted you not to worry about it? That I want you to be happy?”

“Because you’re programmed to?” Alex counters, letting more bitterness than he means to slip into his voice.

Henry reaches out and slides a hand over Alex’s fist where it’s curled on his thigh. “Because I like you, Alex.”

~~~~

On the last visit he can manage before he leaves London, Alex brings Henry a cell phone.

“What’s this for?” Henry asks when Alex hands it to him. It’s a cheap smartphone, pay as you go, something that Alex can renew the data and minutes on remotely.

Alex frowns at him. He would have figured Henry would be familiar with the concept of phones, but maybe they purposefully programmed him to not recognize it. “It’s for communication. Audio, text, video—”

“I know what a phone is, Alex,” Henry says wryly, interrupting him before Alex can make a fool of himself. “I mean why are you giving it to me?”

“I’d like to keep talking to you after I go home,” Alex tells him, feeling oddly exposed by the question. “If that’s something you’d like, too.”

Henry smiles, almost bashfully. “Yes, I’d like that.”

“I assume you’re not allowed to have that,” Alex says with a nod at the phone.

“I don’t think anyone would consider it a possibility that we might,” Henry muses, “but I’ll keep it hidden nonetheless.”

“Good plan.”

“I’m going to miss your visits, Alex,” Henry says earnestly. “I’ll miss you.”

AIDEs can’t miss things, Alex’s brain supplies, an oft-repeated truism. He feels vaguely sick, leaving Henry here like this.

“Yeah,” Alex croaks, unable to quite meet Henry’s bright blue eyes. “I’ll miss you too.”

~~~~~

“How would you get a site-locked AIDE off the premises?” Alex casually asks Nora one late night at the Residence, when they’re deep in the weeds of polls and projections.

The campaign has been rough; rougher than the first one. Or maybe it’s just that Alex is far more involved in the filthy underbelly of it this time around. The experience has definitely made him question his resolve to go into politics. Then again, sometimes it feels like his only option to make a difference in the way he wants to. These days he frequently gets into arguments about the need for more protections for AIDEs, though right now it feels like a losing battle. They’re not supposed to need protections, that’s the point of them, and no one believes him when he suggests that they might have more in common with humans than previously believed.

It’s been months. Months of texting, and phone calls, and occasional video chats. Months of getting to know Henry—the real him, beyond his programmed backstory. For his part, Henry has seemingly blossomed further with access to the internet. Alex was admittedly not certain that was a great idea, but Henry seems to stay off the darker parts. He watches a lot of Bake Off, apparently. He’s obsessed with some cute beagle account on Instagram. He reads travel blogs and insists that just knowing that these wonderful places exist is enough for him.

Alex doesn’t believe him. Well, he believes Henry believes that, but that doesn’t stop Alex from yearning to show Henry some of them in person. Even something in London would be worth it. Hence, the question.

Nora looks at him like she knows exactly what he’s on about. He’s kept his correspondence with Henry a secret from everyone, but he’s pretty sure she suspects something is up. Him broaching this topic all but confirms that, but he needs the help.

“Permanently, or short-term?” she asks.

“Let’s go with short-term to start.”

Another capital-L Look. “Well,” she says eventually, “I would probably hack into the control system and override the barrier protocols. These systems are self-healing, though. You’d have a couple of hours at most.”

“And what happens if the AIDE was off-site when the system kicked back on?” Alex asks.

“Depends on the program. Possibly just an alarm or something. Most of the time it’s full deactivation though.”

“They kill them?”

“AIDEs aren’t alive, Alejandro,” Nora says pointedly. Alex bites his tongue. “But yes, in a manner of speaking.”

“Fuck,” Alex breathes, wiping his hands over his face. “And to permanently get him out?”

It’s a slip. He’s not dumb enough to think she missed it, though she doesn’t show it.

“Not entirely sure,” she admits. “I’d need one of the tablets they use to control them so I could go into the AIDE’s code. And good luck with that; the companies that make them have some of the tightest security out there.”

“Yeah, of course.”

She turns back to her laptop, and Alex half-expects the conversation is done, at least for now. But then, as she’s typing, she says, “I assume this isn’t idle curiosity.”

Alex sighs. “No.”

~~~~~

It takes nine months from their first meeting for Alex to find a reason to visit London. His mother offhandedly mentions sending someone to some conference he doesn’t really care about, and he jumps at the chance. All he can think about is Henry. Being in the same city as him again. Seeing him. Touching him.

Alex has had time to come to terms with his desire for Henry. Honestly, the bisexuality was easy compared to the AIDE aspect of it. Nora is fond of pointing out that they’re literally designed to be desirable, even the ones not populating what basically pass for sexy amusement parks, but Alex doesn’t just want Henry physically. He wants to spend time with him, to make him laugh and see the crinkle of his eyes not through a phone screen.

Frankly, he also wouldn’t mind a little clarity on the whole situation. To either get incontrovertible proof that Henry is fundamentally the same as a person, or else be reminded that he isn’t, that Alex has deluded himself into believing Henry was more than a machine (a possibility that Nora regularly reminds him of).

On the flight over, Alex finds himself watching Cash, not for the first time. He’s doing a sudoku puzzle, which can’t really be much of a challenge for him. Still, he works on them religiously. Did someone program that into him? Or does Cash actually enjoy doing them?

“Do you like your job, Cash?” Alex asks.

Cash looks up at him, setting his ballpoint pen down—he does the puzzles in pen because he never makes a mistake. He’s got an expression on like he doesn’t really understand Alex’s question, even though it should be straightforward. “It’s my job,” he finally says.

“Yeah, but do you like it?” Alex pushes. “Do you find it fulfilling?”

The tip of his head means Cash is analyzing Alex’s body language. After another moment, he says, “Yes.”

Alex can’t quite hold back a sigh. The answer is predictable. Cash is only saying that because he thinks Alex wants to hear it. That’s what AIDEs do, they anticipate your needs and wants.

“Is that not the right answer?” Cash asks, frowning.

“Don’t worry about it,” Alex says.

He knows Cash won’t.

~~~~~

Henry is understandably nervous about the plan. It is, after all, his life on the line.

“The control system will go down at the very end of the visiting day, so we can slip out with the exiting crowds,” Alex tells him. “It’s gonna look like maintenance, which shouldn’t set off any red flags right away. Between that and the roadblocks Nora’s set up, we should have five hours.”

“For what?” Henry asks.

Alex just grins. “It’s a surprise, sweetheart.”

Henry looks even more human in Alex’s Longhorns baseball cap and hoodie. Soft. Dangerously so. It makes Alex want to do reckless things. Instead, he sets his watch for four and a half hours and reminds himself how high the stakes are. He’s arranged everything just so tonight. No surprises.

The escape goes off without a hitch, and Alex breathes a sigh of relief once they’re making their way through the crowded city streets. Out here, the two of them are completely unremarkable, even with Cash trailing a few steps behind them. Henry seems to take it all in stride, though Alex doesn’t miss the quiet looks of awe that steal over his face as he takes in the city. They stop and get falafel at a food truck. Henry asks to pet every dog they come across. He looks indescribably happy in a way that makes Alex’s heart clench in his chest.

At the back entrance to the museum, Alex pays off the night guard—not an AIDE, thank god, they’re nearly impossible to bribe—and they slip inside, leaving Cash by the door. It doesn’t take long for Henry to catch on.

“You brought me to the V&A,” Henry breathes as he looks around.

It had seemed like the obvious choice, after what Henry had told him. “I’ve never actually been here,” Alex admits.

“That’s all right, love,” Henry says, grinning now. “I know my way around.”

Alex has never been so enraptured by someone telling him about art, but it’s impossible not to be taken in by the passion with which Henry speaks about the sculptures. He tells Alex about Tipu’s Tiger, about Giambologna, about Narcissus and Zephyr and Pluto rendered exquisitely in marble. His programming hadn’t bothered to give him anything more than a general interest; all of Henry’s knowledge comes from reading in the palace library—and now on the phone Alex gave him—and he’s apparently done a lot of it. His programming also has nothing to do with the wonder and emotion in his voice, with the tears that glitter in his eyes when he gets overwhelmed by the experience.

Machines don’t cry over art. They just don’t. Art is supposed to be a fundamentally human experience, which is proof enough to Alex that, whatever he was designed as, Henry is just as human as Alex is now.

~~~~~

In the Santa Chiara chapel, Henry finally pauses and turns his awe on Alex.

“I’ve dreamed of this,” he murmurs, closing the space between them until only inches remain. Alex has to tip his head up to meet Henry’s bright gaze, and his heart thuds hard in his chest. “You risked so much to give this moment to me. I don’t know how to thank you.”

“You deserve it,” Alex tells him, meaning every word of it. “You deserve the entire world.”

“Alex,” Henry breathes.

Alex doesn’t think; he leans up and presses their lips together, a fleeting thing, over before he can convince himself it was a mistake. Except it was, because now he knows the softness of Henry’s lips against his, and he’ll never be satisfied with anything else. Henry’s eyes are wide when he pulls back, his lips slightly parted, and all at once Alex curses his impulsivity. What if Henry thinks that’s what he wants in return, that he owes Alex part of himself for this, when the last thing Alex wants is to take advantage of his programmed desire to please?

“Sorry, I shouldn’t have—”

But Henry presses a hand against his face and pulls him in again, slides their lips together with intention, leaves Alex breathless when he pulls away again.

“You don’t have to do that,” Alex breathes into the silence afterward. “You don’t owe me anything.”

“I want to,” Henry says, like it’s the most obvious thing in the world. “I want you, Alex.”

“You’re not just saying that because you think I want you to?”

Henry laughs a little, shaking his head. “I’ve wanted you since the moment I laid eyes on you,” he confesses. “I can assure you, that wasn’t programmed. And neither is this.”

This time, when Henry kisses him, Alex can’t help but smile into it.

~~~~~

They go off-plan. There are two hours left when Alex takes Henry back to his hotel room and presses him back into the bed. Peels away their clothes and kisses across warm skin that feels no different from his own under his lips. Henry gasps and twitches under him as Alex takes him in hand; for an AIDE that was only supposed to staff a museum, whoever designed him really went all out on the anatomy.

“Have you ever done this?” Alex murmurs into the crease of his hip, breathing in the scent of him. Linen and fresh grass and something else, musky and heady.

Henry shakes his head, and relief floods through Alex. It isn’t some virginity kink, ok? He’s just heard stories of how some people treat AIDEs no matter what their jobs are, like they’re free for the taking because they never say no, and he’s glad Henry’s never been in that situation.

“And you’re sure you want to with me?”

“How many times do I have to tell you?” Henry nearly growls. He drags Alex up from between his legs and kisses him hard, then rolls them over so he’s on top, straddling Alex’s waist. Slides back until Alex’s cock is pressing into the cleft of his ass and rocks his hips in a way that makes them both moan. “I’ve never wanted anything more.”

Alex is pretty sure he sees God when Henry lowers himself onto his cock, sitting upright with one hand behind him gripping Alex’s thigh and the other splayed over Alex’s chest. Or maybe it’s just that Henry looks like a god, like one of the mythical marble sculptures in the V&A, muscles rippling beneath his skin, but warm and yielding and vibrant and alive.

You’re unreal, Alex almost says, but that’s not quite it. Henry like this is very, very real. Impossible might be a better word.

Henry is impossible, and Alex is impossibly in love with him.

~~~~~

“Do you think you could steal one of the tablets they use to access your code?” Alex asks as they lie together in the darkness. His ear is pressed to Henry’s chest, listening to the steady thud of his circulatory pump—not quite a heart, but not not one either.

Henry’s hand cards through his hair, idly twirling Alex’s curls around his fingers. “What are you planning, love?”

Alex tips his face up to look at him. “Can you?”

“I doubt I can,” Henry answers after a pause, “but the technician responsible for us… he may be willing to help.”

“And you trust him?”

“He’s protected me before. I think he knows about my… differences.”

Alex hums. “How do we contact him?”

~~~~~

What Shaan Srivastava is not willing to do is speak over any sort of electronic form of communication, which Alex honestly takes as a good sign. They meet in a cafe on the other side of London, the day before Alex is set to leave.

“I want to get him out,” Alex tells him plainly. “For good.”

“Mountchristen Technologies puts numerous failsafes into the AIDEs they build,” Shaan tells him. “Trackers. Latent viruses. Kill switches.”

“Can they be disabled?”

Shaan takes a sip of his tea. “I have an idea, but I have no way of implementing it. I’m just responsible for keeping them in good working order. I’m not a coder.”

The hope that flares up in Alex’s chest is dangerous but oh-so-seductive. “I think I know someone who could help with that.”

~~~~~

“This is insane,” Nora tells him. “You honestly think it’s a good idea to pull off some kind of heist from the world’s biggest tech company a month before the election?”

“No,” Alex says reasonably. “That’s why we’re waiting until after. I convinced mom to let me take a trip to London between New Years and the inauguration.”

Nora shakes her head, every movement like a knife in Alex’s gut. “I can’t do this. I won’t. I never should have helped you on that little excursion in the first place, but this is a whole ‘nother level. We could both go to jail for who knows how long. And for what? Because you fucked an AIDE and now you want him for yourself?”

“Fuck you,” Alex nearly shouts. “I love him, asshole! I can’t let him stay a— a slave in that fucking palace.”

“He’s a machine! That’s what he was designed for, Alex!”

“Maybe he was, but that doesn’t mean that’s what he is now,” Alex insists. He holds out the tablet that she has yet to take from him. “Just look at his code. Even I can tell it isn’t like anything else out there.”

Finally, she snatches the tablet from him and jabs at it a few times. Her frown gets deeper. “There’s something wrong with this tablet,” she says eventually. “It’s not displaying things properly.”

“It is.”

“It can’t be, this level of complexity is impossible—”

“He’s writing his own fucking code, Nora,” Alex interrupts. Shaan had explained his theory on Henry’s code as best he was able before Alex left London. “With every one of the choices he was never supposed to be able to make. That’s why it looks like that.”

Heavy silence stretches between them as Nora stares at the tablet, occasionally swiping around and tapping. She chews on her lip. “It shouldn’t be possible,” she mutters, half to herself.

“But it is. He is. Please, Nora,” Alex pleads, not caring how desperate he sounds. “I’ll do anything.”

“Yeah, well. Hopefully it won’t come to that.”

~~~~~

“You need to understand that the changes to his code means that accessing the safeguards is much more difficult.”

“Ok.”

“And I can’t guarantee that this will work. We can’t test it out. Once we shut him down, there’s no way to know exactly what will happen when we boot him back up again. He might come back the same as he is now, but he also might undergo some kind of reset. Even if he retains his free will, he might not remember his life before. He might not remember you.”

Alex swallows hard. “I understand.”

“Does he?”

~~~~~

It takes Alex a month to work up the nerve to broach the topic with Henry. On video call not long after the election, he explains Nora’s plan, how they need to do a full shutdown so she can extract the safeguards like a surgeon. He makes himself explain the risks even though his first impulse is to downplay them. Henry deserves to know, deserves to make the decision for himself. Alex would be a huge fucking hypocrite to take that away from him.

That doesn’t mean he’s required to like Henry’s reaction, though.

“It’s too much risk,” Henry says, a stubborn look on his face that Alex is very familiar with by now. “Things are fine now.”

“They’re really not,” Alex argues. “You’re no better than a prisoner there, Henry. Your freedom is worth the risk.”

“It’s not.”

“Of course it fucking is!” Alex snaps, rapidly becoming frustrated by this argument.

“Not when it could mean losing you!” Henry bites out. He presses his lips together and looks away from the camera, but Alex can see the tears shining in his eyes. “My memories of you—of the museum, of us,” he says eventually, his voice unsteady, “are the only things I have that are truly mine. And you tell me I could lose them… I can’t do it. I’d rather stay here forever.”

“Don’t you understand?” Alex pleads. He wants to reach through the screen and grab him, turn his face and make Henry look at him. “I’m trying to give you the world, baby.”

“I don’t want the world,” Henry says miserably. “Please, Alex. It’s better this way. You may think this is worth it now, but one day you’ll change your mind when you realize that having a secret AIDE lover isn’t exactly compatible with a political career. You’ll want to be with a real person. Someone whose affection you can be certain isn’t just programming. Just… leave me here with my memories.”

Then Henry hangs up on him.

~~~~~

Henry doesn’t answer his calls or reply to his texts, and Alex couldn’t be more miserable. He doesn’t eat and sleeps only fitfully, which confuses his family. Everyone’s still riding a high from winning the election. They think Alex is seriously ill and try to bring in a doctor, but nothing’s physically wrong with him. He can’t tell them he’s suffering from a broken heart like some pining Victorian maiden.

On the fifth day, Nora comes storming into his bedroom in the White House and throws a duffle bag at his chest.

“Pack your shit, we’re going to London,” she says bluntly. “Also take a shower. You reek.”

“What the fuck are you talking about?”

“It’s Henry.” She waves the tablet in the air, which is still linked to Henry’s code in real time. “Someone’s trying to make changes to his code.”

Alex flops back down onto his bed and stares at the ceiling. “It’s probably just him deciding he’s done with me.”

“God, you’re pathetic,” she huffs, now rummaging through his dresser. “It’s not him. Looks like someone else is poking around, and that can’t be a good thing.”

That’s enough to make him rocket straight out of bed, an icy spike of dread shooting down his spine. “Have you gotten in contact with Shaan?”

Nora shakes her head. “No. He’s radio silent.”

“Fuck.”

“I booked us tickets with your credit card on a flight that leaves in two hours, so hurry the fuck up.”

“Nora, is he—” Alex starts before his voice clips off as his throat closes. He forces out, “Can you tell… is he ok?”

Her expression softens, and she puts a hand on his forearm and squeezes. “For now.”

~~~~~

The good thing about Kensington being a museum is that no one can stop him from just buying a ticket and going in. He’s been here enough times to know his way to the library, at least, which is where he goes first, barely aware that Nora’s following hot on his heels. All he can think about is Henry.

Henry’s not in the library, though, nor in any of the surrounding rooms. Alex stops a palace attendant and asks for directions to Prince Henry’s apartments, which she helpfully provides. It’s a part of the palace that’s not on any tours, but that doesn’t seem to matter. A palace attendant’s directive to be helpful to humans is off the charts, even for an AIDE.

Somehow he’s not expecting Shaan to answer the door when he knocks. Alex immediately shoulders his way into the room, anger and fear an unholy cocktail in his veins.

“Where is he? What going on here?” he demands, frantically looking around. “Henry, baby, where are you?”

“Mr. Claremont-Diaz—”

“Henry!” There’s no answer, and Alex rounds on Shaan again. “Are you doing this to him?”

Shaan sighs, and it forces Alex to look closer, to take in the bags under his eyes and the grim set to his face. “I told you, I’m not a coder, Mr. Claremont-Diaz. I have, however, been doing my best to slow their progress.”

“What’s happening?” Alex demands.

“Someone higher in the company noticed Henry’s unusual code. I’m not sure how. A standard review of the AIDEs in the palace, I suppose. Or your trip out of Kensington was less secret than you hoped.”

Fuck. None of that is good. Alex scrubs a hand over his face, forces himself to take steady breaths and not descend into a panic attack. “Ok, ok. Is he all right?”

“Alex?”

Alex’s head whips around so fast he nearly strains his neck. Henry’s standing in the doorway, dressed in his usual slacks and button-down with a blue v-neck sweater over it. He looks… normal, and Alex nearly sobs in relief.

“Baby,” he breathes, practically throwing himself across the room and into Henry’s arms. He buries his face in Henry’s neck and breathes deeply, and the barbed wire wrapped tightly around his heart loosens a little.

“What are you doing here?” Henry asks, his strong arms wrapping automatically around Alex’s body.

Alex yanks his head back and looks askance at Shaan. “Does he not know?” He stares up at Henry. “Your code is under attack.”

“Ah, yes,” Henry says carefully. “It’s not the first time.”

“This has happened to you before?” Nora asks, and Henry looks at her in shock, like he hadn’t realized she was in the room.

“You must be Nora,” he surmises. “Yes, it has. I might have thought you’d have noticed the effects in my code.”

A look of understanding dawns over Nora’s face, and she nods. “They’re like scars. Fuck. How many times?”

“It’s not important,” Henry says in a way that suggests he’s been doing this for a long time. “The main point is that I can handle them.”

“Fuck that,” Alex spits out. “I’m not letting them scar you anymore.”

Henry closes his eyes and sighs wearily as he extracts himself from Alex’s grip. “Alex, love, you shouldn’t be here—”

“No, you listen, asshole,” Alex snaps, his terror giving way to fury. “You can’t fucking hang up on me this time.”

“I told you my decision, Alex—”

“And what about what I want? Doesn’t that mean anything?”

“Fine,” Henry says shortly, his own temper flaring. “You know as well as I that we can’t be together as long as your mother’s in office and the public’s eyes are on you. So if you still want me in four years, come back and we’ll talk then. You know where I’ll be.”

He says it with a humorless slant to his lips that’s probably supposed to pass as a wry grin, like it’s a joke. Alex wants to fucking scream.

“And let them keep on trying to chip away at what makes you you? Take the chance that they’ll just get rid of you?” he retorts instead. “Fat fucking chance! I’m not leaving the man I love in captivity for four fucking years!”

It takes Henry’s eyes going wide and his mouth falling open for Alex to realize what he’s said. “Alex, you can’t—”

“What, love you? Because I do,” Alex says defiantly. “And I think you love me too.”

“Didn’t anyone ever tell you AIDEs can’t love?” Henry says, his voice wavering as he stares at the floor.

Alex steps close, forcing Henry to look up at him, until their noses are almost brushing. “Yeah, well, I know better,” he says, low and heated. “I also know I’m not gonna want anyone else, ‘real person’ or not. You’re a real person to me, Henry, and that’s what matters.” He raises a hand to Henry’s cheek and swipes his thumb through the tear track streaking it. “You’re it for me, sweetheart. I’m never gonna love anyone like I love you, and no one can take that away. Plus,” he adds, for the first time letting a corner of his mouth tug upward, “you know how annoyingly persistent I am. If you forget me, I’ll just make you fall in love with me all over again.”

Henry lets out a wet laugh and covers Alex’s hand with his. “It won’t take long.”

~~~~~

Seeing Henry shut down is wrong. He doesn’t even look dead, he just looks… not there. There’s no light in his eyes. Alex hates it. Can’t make himself watch as Nora works furiously.

It takes longer than he expected, but eventually she takes a deep breath and mutters, “Here goes nothing,” then taps a big green button on the tablet.

Henry’s eyelashes flutter as he wakes up. He looks around the room, eyes landing in turn on Shaan, Nora, and Alex. He holds Alex’s gaze and Alex stares back as if he could make Henry remember him through sheer force of will.

“Hello,” Henry says pleasantly. “I don’t believe we’ve met?”

~~~~~

Five Years Later

Alex stands at the end of the long driveway that leads to a small bungalow by the sea on a tiny island in the middle of the Caribbean. He’s got a bouquet of flowers clutched in one hand, which feels silly now. Maybe this was a mistake.

He’s kept tabs on Henry and his life after leaving Kensington. From what he can tell, Henry seems happy. He visits the markets and restaurants, knows the locals, and spends lots of time writing. He’s never taken a lover, but Alex doesn’t let himself believe that’s because of him.

It seemed easier, if they were going to have to be apart, to not fill Henry in on their history at first. At least one of them could weather the years without heartache. Alex threw himself into law school, letting nothing distract him. Graduated at the top of his class, got the job of his dreams working for a firm specializing in civil rights litigation, one of the few considering cases related to AIDE protections. He lives a pretty quiet life. No one really cares about what the former FSOTUS is up to these days. And now he’s here, half a decade later, with little more than hope.

Hope, and a wilting bouquet of flowers.

In his darker moments, he’s wondered if it wouldn’t be kinder to Henry to leave him be. Let him live his life. After all, Alex will get old and die, and Henry… won’t. No one really knows how AIDEs might break down over time—their organic-based bodies must, eventually—but their lifespans will surely be much longer than a human’s. In that context, coming back and hoping Henry will fall in love with him again seems nothing but selfish.

Still, he made a promise, and he owes it to Henry to tell him, if nothing else. Maybe Henry will decide that he’s happy as he is, that he doesn’t want the eventual heartache. He owes it to Henry to let him choose.

The gravel of Henry’s driveway crunches loudly under his shoes as he walks toward the bungalow, announcing his arrival as well as any doorbell. When he gets closer, he catches sight of Henry sitting on the porch that faces the beach, a notebook on his lap and a drink on the table next to him. They’d dyed his hair brown after fleeing Kensington, and brown it has remained. He’s still as pale as ever, though; AIDEs don’t tan or get sunburned.

He doesn’t turn at the sound of Alex’s approach, just stares fixedly out at the ocean until Alex stops at the bottom of the two steps that lead up to the porch. Alex’s heart is in his throat when Henry finally gets up and walks to the top of the steps. The smile on his face is warm, fond. Nothing like what he’d left Alex with when they’d parted.

It shouldn’t be possible… but then again, Henry is the very embodiment of the impossible.

He holds out his hand, and Alex climbs up to take it, letting Henry pull him in.

“Hello, love,” Henry says, raising a warm hand to his cheek. “I’ve been waiting for you.”

[ineffablydelighted]

[How exploring the Ineffable Husbands' dynamic in Good Omens can help us figure out what the show/book is all about, Part 1/?]

Also called: This human has, apparently, too much time on her hands and will be trying to Effable the Ineffable for [...] hours.

Ah, Hello! 👋

I'm ineffably delighted to meet you all! 😇

Let's cut to the chase and bear with me as we try together to analyze further the subject of the day:

Aziraphale is in love with Crowley and I am pretty sure he is aware of that fact BUT 

[yes, there is a "but", do not erase me from the Book of Life just yet, let me explain first, homie 🥺] 

I do not believe he can comprehend WHY he is just yet, and what that would mean for him in terms of... well... EVERYTHING he ever stood for.

It will also be the perfect roots to answer the biggest question yet :

What is Good Omens all about, exactly?

[Yeah, it's a tough one. When I say "bear with me", I really insist on the fact that it will be LONG. I will try my best to make it fun to read and to allow some "natural breaks" but know that I would appreciate your unshared attention if you're willing to give it to me. 😇]

Although, would you have the chance to ask him about it (probably looking at a cup of tea as we would all do in Earthy fashion), Aziraphale would have somewhat of an answer to give you, probably in the range of:

"Because, deep down, Crowley is the nicest being I've ever known."

Is it false? No, Crowley IS nice. Swaggeringly nice, occasionally unhinged, but still. Nice.

And that is somewhat the core of the... "problem" for our soon-to-be Supreme Archangel [Yep, the pain is still fresh, thanks for asking, you're welcome for reminding you 😭👍] because, as much as Crowley learned nuances due to past experiences (Falling being, most likely, the most traumatic one,) Aziraphale remains bound to think in absolutes. And everything relates to THIS perfect meme right there:

[Whoever you are, person/entity who has done that, you have forever my utmost gratitude and respect]

I'm far from bringing anything new to the table here, but to Aziraphale, Crowley should NOT have fallen in the first place. Because of how nice he is. Crowley IS an angel, to him. In fact, I'll go even further by stating that, to Aziraphale,

Crowley is more of an Angel than ANY Angel in the "Main Office."

Let's present our other contestants, shall we?

When he ruled, Gabriel was an absolute a** and had an ego the size of, idk, at least A DOZEN GALAXIES. He made Aziraphale feel like... well... poop most of the time they interacted.

That is why, in S2 when Gabriel/Jim tells him "I love you", Aziraphale, even being and considering himself a "creature of love", happens to be utterly unable to either reciprocate or take the compliment. At this moment, later enhanced when he reminds himself of the Job case, he realizes he is able to feel, if not hatred, NOT love NOR admiration for somebody he should somewhat consider a role model.

That is very important for Aziraphale's present and future character development, especially considering Gabriel/Jim's own fate, so please keep that in mind.

Michael? Oh God, Same if not worse: too condescending and ambitious in the wrong way to inspire anything nice to anybody.

Sandalphon just does what they are told but can totally throw a punch if necessary.

Uriel is mostly cold, occasionally cruel, and can also be physically threatening.

[I love the actress, though. Gloria Obianyo deserves a Ph.D. in Resting Bitch Facing for her performance in Good Omens alone and I'm here for it.]

S2 Saraqael seems to be more layered but has also been hurtful to Aziraphale (especially when she ironized that he couldn't possibly be the 25-Lazarii-magnitude-miracle caster).

Overall, S1 Aziraphale refers to the "Main Office" Angels as "BAD ANGELS!" after their hostile encounter. We could see from his face he would have wanted to use harsher words but couldn't get past his forgiving, decent nature.

Before we talk any furfur-ther [Am I proud of this so-called pun? A-BSOLUTELEH 😎🤭], let's add a really important stone/layer to our favorite Angel's thinking: to him, it is simple maths:

GOOD = RIGHT, BAD = WRONG

And let's save it for later, shall we?

[Killgrave dear is just here to remind you you can take a break anytime to drink a glass of Talisker if you'd like, or, more so, if HE'd like. Also because that character is THE best David Tennant role on television - 10th Doctor being the worthy third, I let you guess which character is our second now - and I might have wanted to use this gif just to be able to say that, who knows? *whispers* Mysssteryyyy...]

Anyway.

To a being like Aziraphale, who mostly thinks in dichotomy, being an Angel requires one main requirement: being GOOD.

[Buy a farrrrrm and be good! Not just "pretendy" good but. properly. GOOD! - NO, I couldn't find the gif and YES, I'm mad about it, but since I'm also unable to make one myself, I'll just shut it.]

That is why he refers to the Main Office Archangels as simply being BAD.

At that moment, they had been mean to him, threatening, and, by doing so, they became somewhat active in Hell's Armageddon project. Making them "bad" angels, but, more so:

Bad at BEING Angels.

Aziraphale, on the other hand, is, at heart, the penultimate goody-two-shoes: he does feel bad about himself whenever he does something bad/wrong such as lying (it has started to change, and I'll nuance that statement another time, but you get the grip).

He is constantly scared he might fall whenever he somewhat defies God's will or the idea he built in his head of what an Angel should be(have).

But have you paid attention to how his "Angelmates" NEVER seem to CARE about their own displays of, let's say "unconventional characteristics" for what should be the highest "Representatives of the sole concept of Good"?

Have you ever seen Gabriel or Michael being self-conscious about their narcissism and condescending tendencies? Uriel about their coldness? Saraqael about their sarcastic nature? Any of them about their use of violence? Of course not! They seem to be perfectly fine with it!

They own their characteristics, good AND bad.

Aziraphale does not.

Aziraphale is... soft. Even if he, at times, expresses regrets to be just that, he also applies it to his Angelic nature.

You know who else is soft?

Crowley.

Crowley is soft because he cannot kill children and takes it upon himself to LITERALLY DEFY BOTH GOD AND SATAN'S WILL TO SAVE SAID CHILDREN, including two annoying ones [especially the one who DARED to hit on Aziraphale but that is a topic for another day]

[MASSIVE Bildad the Shuhite fangirl here, consider yourselves warned.]

Crowley is soft because he cannot even kill GOATS.

Defying both God's and Satan's will to save kids? Yeah, eventually, okay.

Defying God's and Satan's will to save goats? Man, that's so effingly. more. powerful.

[Oh, look! A bird flying, normal thingy, nothing to see here, buh-bye!]

Crowley is soft because he proposes/"tempts" Aziraphale to "eat a spot of lunch", especially whenever his Angel experiences stress.

We have barely seen him eat, which might indicate he does not have such a strong taste for it personally. He only goes to the Ritz to enjoy Aziraphale's company and to watch him happily eat scrumptious, comforting foods.

[Okay, also because it morphed into a proper kink at some point but that is NOT today's subject, so stop trying to make me deviate from it! 😣]

Oh, and, before you bring that up, no, the alcohol motive is not relevant since he can, in all probability have a glass of Talisker in ANY sort of pub/restaurant in London.

[As a proper peated whisky lover who happens to be French, let me tell you this is NOT the case in my country and I'm super duper jealous of you, lads.]

Crowley is soft because he takes care of both Gabriel and Aziraphale's bookshop, even if it is clear he loathes the first and expressingly said he would not be a bookseller "even at gunpoint."

And, by "taking care of", know that I MEAN IT: he kept an eye on Jim, didn't wake him up when he heard him snore, answered any question he had, no matter how seemingly stupid they were [Even if Crowley, of all beings, cannot be anything but a raging "There is no stupid question, only stupid answers" representative] and offered him hot cocoa. As for the Booksho-P[uhhhhh *exhales in asthma*], he attempted to repair Jim's messy ordering twice and meticulously rearranged the place after ✨the Ball✨

[What do you mean, "he also Killgraved him into jumping out of the window?" HE ALSO STOPPED HIM FROM DOING SO, THANK YOU VERY MUCH. #NotBiasedInTheSlghtestIndividual]

Crowley is soft because he shares his Bentley with Aziraphale. Which is a VERY. BIG. DEAL. considering it was, at the time, HIS LAST ONE AND ONLY PRIZED POSSESSION.

[Should I mention that the Bentley FALLS IN LOVE with Aziraphale or is debating on whether or not that falls into the Oedipian complex territory off-topic? Yes, I'll see myself out.]

Crowley is soft because he rescues Aziraphale on countless occasions, even though, 99% of the time, that is pretty much unnecessary.

For real, guys: if Aziraphale had been discorporated in the course of his 6000+ years on Earth at any other given moment BUT on the eve of THE WAR with a capital "W", nobody in Heaven would have flinched.

[I do have a theory, though: maybe being re-incorporated takes quite a long time, which would have meant too many years apart from each other, hence the growing Damsel in Distress kink in Aziraphale, idk THAT IS NOT TODAY's SUBJECT, OKAY?!]

Also, Crowley is soft because "doing that makes him so happy".

Do you know who is supposedly "so happy" to save living things, aka GOD'S CREATIONS? Angels.

Crowley is soft because he rescues Aziraphale even when it is ACTUALLY ENDANGERING for both of them

He risked: his life, his pretty comfortable position "he carved out for himself", both his Earthy and Infernal homes sort of speak, AND EVEN HIS CAR to save his Angel's bottom/help him out in the direst situations (like stopping time to stop SATAN HIMSELF.)

[Also his past/present/future existence altogether, but the Bentley is more important, as I'm sure we'll all agree.]

[That is a Class A Protective/Helpful Husband, right there.]

Crowley is soft because he encourages Aziraphale to follow his passion for ✨prestidigitation✨

Even though he is pretty... amateurish at it. Not only does he encourage him, but he also HELPS him when he accepts to be his dashing assistant on stage.

[Yes, he does tell S1 Aziraphale to stop doing magic because he "has no idea how demeaning that is" but I'm pretty sure it was BECAUSE of S2 1941's events. Also, #WeStan1941Crowley here.]

Crowley is soft because he works pretty hard to make two humans he barely knows fall in love.

Yes, he also does it to cover his and Aziraphale's 25-Lazarii-magnitude-miracle lie BUT don't tell me his amazed expression when he thought he was about to witness Nina and Maggie actually falling for each other was not the purest, sincerest of all.

Finally, even if I could come up with more examples,

Crowley is soft because he saved Aziraphale's books JUST because he KNEW and CARED that Aziraphale CARED about said books.

That also, in Michael Sheen's very own opinion [as stated by Neil Gaiman in S1 GO DVD commentary], shared by many fans, and myself very much included, marks the moment

Aziraphale falls in love with Crowley.

[I DARE you to tell me THIS is NOT THE LOOK OF LOVE PERSONIFIED, go on, fight meh.]

So. WHY did it happen at that moment in particular? Well, because, first of all:

As a proper Jane Austen fan, Aziraphale is a slow burner.

Also, to him, an actual Angel, love is everywhere, so differentiating one love from another might be more difficult for somebody who can feel it whether or not it is even their own.

BUT [have you started getting used to my "but"s yet or should I harass you some more?] Let's go back in time to see how every previous encounter (that we know of) led to that pinnacle, shall we?

[Oh and, YES, this sort of essay will be long, and NO, I had no idea how much it would be when I started writing it, and still haven't, tbh 🤷‍♀️]

During part 2, we will also dive a little bit deeper into what Good Omens is all about.

[Yeah... I figured we would all need a break at this point.]

More on that later, then!

Hope I kept your interest at a reasonable peak. See you soon, Angels ❤

Need help to find the rest of this analysis? I've got you covered! Follow me, Angel 😇

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