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fortheloveoffanfic · 2 months ago

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Anywhere That You Are

Hozier x fem!reader

Author's note: Inspired by that picture (as seen below), my new favorite song (That You Are) and an idea sent in via asks.

Summary: A scene of Y/n and Andrew enjoying their vacation in a secluded spot in the mountains of Italy.

Warnings: NSFW/SMUT, semi-public sex (sort of?), so much fluff.

They’d bickered for a while over where to go. She wanted somewhere quiet and secluded – because after two entire years of sharing her man with the world, Y/n wants him to herself. Andrew, on the other hand, had simply requested somewhere near water – the beach, a lake, a pool, anything he could swim in. So they met in the middle; two weeks in a rustic, little one bedroom cottage tucked away in the mountains of Italy, within walking distance of a vast, jewel toned lake. The house is perched on a jagged hill, overlooking the serene landscape, and sunsets wash the area in a gentle, golden glow. They’ve witnessed three so far, and each one has been nothing short of magnificent – though Andrew has argued that there’s at least one view that he appreciates much more.

Her, standing on the open porch, wearing nothing but his shirt as that warm light hits her face, making it seem like she’s glowing. Like something ethereal; an angel on earth sent just for him. Or even better, his own, personal heaven.

He’s thinking about that as he sits there, in one of the two wicker chairs with an acoustic guitar propped in his lap, fingers absently grazing the delicate strings. At first, he isn’t playing anything in particular. Andrew’s eyes are trained forward, taking in the view of rolling hills and aged trees while his mind strays to the thought of his love, just past the window behind him, moving around in their rental’s charmingly quaint kitchen. Humming softly as she fills the kettle, moving around fluidly as she takes it to the stove before prepping a pair of matching mugs out of the small cupboard over the wooden counter as it boils. She’ll fill up the mugs at the end of the process, and bring them out, all without spilling even a drop – because she’s more graceful that Andrew could ever dream to be.

Because if he is a perilously tall stack of china plates, just waiting for a breeze in the right – or wrong – direction to end in a clumsy disaster, then she is silk, moving freely through calm water.

As thoughts of Y/n take shape, Andrew finds himself playing the notes of a familiar tune, humming along to it as he does. A wedding present, written with a new friend for someone he loves so dearly, and so deeply, that even the most beautiful words, tied together with threads of gold, could only express a fraction of what he feels. But she’d loved it, and that was what had mattered most to him. Because if she loves it, then chances are, she knows.

She knows that if he had his way, they would be together – always. No oceans would separate them for months on end. There wouldn’t be months between kisses and neither of them would endure the heartache of seeing that other on screens without being able to touch even the barest tips of their fingers. No bed would stay half cold, and no terrible joke will be told through text. They’d go on walks every evening with fingers laced and her head leaned on his arm.

He would be anywhere – and everywhere – that she is. Because he always finds that he makes a bit more sense when Y/n is around.

So lost in the inner workings of his mind, Andrew completely misses the whistle of the kettle, the subsequent clinking of a metal spoon against the ceramic and finally, the tell-tale creak of the front door. He’s only pulled out of his thoughts when Y/n sets the pair of mugs down on the small, round table between the two chairs and comes to stand behind him. Her hands begin at his shoulders, spending a brief moment messaging them before sliding forward, fingers sprawled on his chest.

“What’s on your mind, huh?” Y/n probs, bring her lips to his cheek in a much-too-short peck.

Freeing one of his hands, Andrew places it over hers. “You,” he offers softly, shifting his head to meet her lips.

“Mm, yeah?” She smiles, “now, why would you think about me when I’m right here.”

“Because,” he tips his head so their noses are touching, “you’re my favorite thing to think about.”

Y/n giggles again, walking around until she’s in front of him. Andrew allows her relieve him of the guitar, watching as she carefully lays in in the vacant chair before climbing into his lap, her legs astride his thighs. “That’s all?” She pouts dramatically, “just think about.”

Chuckling, his hands find her hips, clothed in a gray t-shirt stolen from his suitcase – not that he’s complaining, his clothes look much better on her anyway. “Not just think,” he promises, catching her mouth.

“Yeah?” Her arms go around his neck as she melts into his chest, words escaping through their tangled lips, “what else?”

“Favorite person to kiss,” his lips travel along her jaw, and then down her neck, where he presses his nose to the warm skin near her pulse, “favorite smell,” he nips at her throat, leaving little, telling bruises, “favorite person to do this with,” and then, as of to examine his work, or just freshen the image of her in his mind, Andrew pulls away, broad grin splitting his cheeks. “Favorite person to see wearing my clothes.”

She is really just his favorite everything.

“Our clothes,” Y/n corrects pointedly.

“Oh, of course darlin’,” he plays along with a chuckle.

“I’m glad we’re here,” she says suddenly and the mood sobers a bit. A soft smile still plays at her lips, but there’s a twinkle in her eyes that are indicative of those private moments where one of them says something that is only meant for the other. A surge of emotion pools in her chest, and there’s a lump in her throat. It doesn’t matter how long they’ve been together – five minutes or ten years – it isn’t the distance that makes her heart grow fonder, its the moments spent in their own little bubble. When he’s close enough for her to throw her arms around his neck or lay her head in his lap. When the sound of his voice isn’t skewed by the speaker of her phone.

When she can open a door and find him on the other side of it.

Those are the moments that make her heart swell so much that Y/n thinks it may burst out of her chest. They are the ones that remind Y/n of how much she loves him, only because he’s him. There isn’t another person in the world that could rouse such an intense feeling within her, or even a fraction of the certainty she feels it with.

Lifting his hand to the side of her face, Andrew mirrors her expression. “So am I,” he returns with the same ease, “you have no idea how much I’ve missed it just being the two of us.”

Y/n huffs a chuckle and leans in conspiringly, her forehead pressed to his while his thumb caresses the apple of her cheek, “I’m willing to bet I do.”

Still cupping her cheek, Andrew tilts his head and closes his mouth in over hers again. His other hand, the one on her hip, searches blindly for the hem of the t-shirt. “We’re outside,” Y/n’s mumbled admonishment melts against his lips when he flattens his palm on her upper thigh, gradually inching it upwards.

“Just us up here,” Andrew returns, then adds, “do you wanna go inside?”

Clumsily, she undoes the plastic buttons at the top of his shirt, “not really,” Y/n’s hands slip into the top of his flannel shirt, fingers dancing along his skin, leaving sparks in their wake. “God, I love this shirt on you.”

“I’d like this off you,” he starts lifting the oversized t-shirt over her head, not caring where it falls when he tosses it off to the side. She isn’t wearing much under it, just her underwear, and Andrew’s eyes fall to her unrestrained breasts after discarding the t-shirt. His gaze is steady as he trails the tips of his fingers up her spine, and its more his feather-light touch than the temperate evening air that causes the dusting of goosebumps along her exposed skin. “You’re so fucking beautiful,” he rasps, and Y/n feels her cheeks warm under his stare; a heady combination of tenderness and longing darkening his eyes.

There’s something about the way Andrew looks at her – and just looks – that never fails to rouse a sensation in the pit of her stomach. A warmth that she’s never really associated with sex; its more like the warmth of a hearth, reaching upwards. Embers spreading to the most hidden parts of her body. It's gentle, and comforting. It's not the rush of being desired, but the peace that comes with being wanted.

Its not fast and explosive. It doesn’t fizzle out when they’re spent.

It stands up against time, steadfast and true.

Andrew looks at her, and Y/n doesn't feel as if he's forgotten that there are other women in the world. Instead, she knows that of all of them, he will only ever choose her – want her.

“I love the way you look at me,” she whispers, still loosely clutching his shoulders as she leans forward.

Andrew’s grin broadens and he flattens his hand on the center of her back, “well, I love looking at you,” he returns in the same, hushed tone. A sound between a delighted chuckle and a hum of contentment falls onto his lips from hers. He tastes of the beer he’d taken out with him earlier, and something subtly sweet that makes her toes curl.

In a sequence of clumsy, fumbled movements, Y/n lifts herself off Andrew’s lap for long enough for him to tug her underwear down, and get it of one leg before they hastily undo the button and zipper of his jeans so they can shove them down to the middle of his thighs. A fit of laughter erupts from her throat, at some point during the jumbled mess of movements, and as she throws her head back, he laughs too, rendering their attempts efforts even more maladroit

It probably doesn't look like they’re in a movie, or even particularly sensual. But its the one of the things he misses the most when they’re apart. Not the act itself but the being with her like that; when they’re so caught up in how it feels that nothing else matters. Bodies in awkward positions or a stray comment that has nothing to do with anything at all, none of it matters because he's with the one person that it all makes sense with.

When Y/n sinks down onto him, her lewd moan is cast into the crook of his neck, and Andrew lolls his head to the side, pressing his cheek to her hair, the fruity fragrance of her shampoo flooding his senses. “God,” he rasps, reveling in the way she feels wrapped so tightly around him.

“Just like that,” he encourages, gentle grip on her hips guiding Y/n into steady pace. Rocking her hips against his in pronounced, languid motions, her back arches slightly, creating in a balletic curve. She looks much like art, Andrew thinks.

Just like that, so simple and unhampered. With a couple stray strands falling over her face and her head thrown back. Practically melting in his hands. Through his hazy, lust-blurred vision, he sees the most beautiful person he’s ever known transform into something that can only be other-worldly. Every bit of her has been carved by the gods with the purpose of being the truest personification of beauty.

What must he have done in some other life to be afforded the privilege of her company?

It's really the tangible that’s keeping him grounded; reminding him that he’s real enough to share that moment with her. The warmth of her silken skin under his rough fingers, the clench of her core around him, the tips of her fingers sunken into his shoulders.

The pressure of Y/n’s forehead against his, the heat of her breath when she ellicts his name in a husky moan. “God, Andrew,” there’s a waning smile tugging at her lips as she quickens ever so slightly. His hips buck to meet hers, and every time they connect in a heady, jerked movement, her breath hitches audibly.

God, he loves that sound. That little, whined, “uh.”

Y/n’s fingers curl into his shoulders as her thighs start burning, a direct result of Andrew’s light wash jeans rhythmically rubbing against her skin. That fiery friction coupled with the usual tingle that accompanies being stretched around him is enough to run her breaths shallow and ragged. There’s a light sheen gathered on his forehead when she presses hers to it, and from that angle, Y/n swears she can feel him in her stomach.

Vaguely, she registers when Andrew moves one hand from her waist, bringing his thumb to her sensitive bundle of nerves, while he lowers his head to press his mouth to the swell of her breath. Curling her toes at the new sensations, one of Y/n’s hands slide out from under his shirt and reaches for the back of his head, fingers tangling in his hair, disturbing his haphazard bun. Andrew's tongue flicking at the top of her breast, incits the most thrilling sensation in the pit of her stomach, and the way he's working her nub is dizzying; the combination quickly guiding Y/n to the cusp of release.

“I need to feel you,” Andrew grits, edges of his teeth dragging along the ample flesh. “Let me feel you,” he pleads urgently, the upward motions of his pelvis growing erratic as he tries to prompt Y/n to quicken her pace. “Come’on sweetheart,” he encourages, tone low and dry.

"Andy….Andy….” Y/n yelps, crescent-shaped nails grazing his scalp as her legs start stiffening.

“That’s it, darling” he entices, thumb working on her numb more vigorously now. Andrew needs to feel her squeeze him; like she’s putting every stray part back into its place. He’s aching for the kind of release that only Y/n can bring, the kind that empties his mind completely and leaves him seeing stars for the next few minutes.

Twin kaleidoscopes are painted onto her shut lids as it happens, and Y/n can’t help but blurt out a string of cried praises muddled in with the obscene repetition of his name. A sinful prayer shared between lovers. Her legs, no longer able to support her own weight, become jello and Y/n struggles to keep moving through the cloud of her release.

“Fuck,” Andrew heaves, lifting his head as Y/n quakes around him. His breathing is heavy as he follows along, mind now far too tattered to properly enjoy the way she looks when she’s completely in ruins. So instead, Andrew hastily pulls his hand from her center and cradles the back of Y/n’s head, pulling her towards him so he can crush his lips to hers, the fervor of their kiss matching the thick warmth swirling around them.

That gorgeous scenery that they’ve been enjoying over the past few days – trees that soar towards the dimming sky, the bellies of green hills and the occasional burst of colour owed to wildflowers, all dusted by that golden evening hue – blurs around them, completely forgotten.

Even as they come down from the very top of it, Andrew’s breathing remains heavy, and he can feel Y/n’s heart pounding against her ribs.

“Jesus,” Y/n suspires when they break, shoulders slumping. Andrew chuckles briefly at her exclamation before sagging against the back of the chair, throwing his head back so he can stare up – but not really – at the ceiling. Looking down at herself, Y/n can’t help but feel the heat return to her cheeks upon noticing that she’s completely unclad. He’s seen her like that maybe a hundred times by now, if not more, but there’s always the tiniest bit of self-consciousness that sneaks up on her when he’s completely dressed and she’s….well, not

Abashed, Y/n throws herself against his chest and buries her face in the side of his neck. Andrew can feel her smile on his skin, and the way her fame shakes slightly with bashful giggles. “What?” He smiles, one hand settled on the small of her back while the other reaches for the side of her face, urging Y/n to look at him.

“You're still wearing all your clothes,” she giggles, tugging her lower lip between her teeth as she meets his gaze.

Briefly, Andrew glances down at himself; the first four buttons of his shirt are open, and his pants have made it to the middle of his thighs, but otherwise he’s still entirely clothed. “Shit, yeah,” he laughs softly. “Tell you what,” he meets her lips in a punctuating kiss, “gimme ten minutes, and then we’ll fix that.”

#hozier #andrew hozier byrne #hozier x reader #hozier x y/n #hozier x you #the hoziest #hozier fanfic #anywhere that you are

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sky-kiss · 1 year ago

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Hi love!

Okay so we all know I love your writing, especially for Raphael.

How about a scenario where Tav is in mortal peril and Korilla is NOT around/able to bail them out. Raphael has to do it himself. Well, he doesn't "have" to, but he will.

_________

A/N: MY QUEEN. I will do my best. Think this is the first time I've done a Tav who is DOWN BAD (in more ways than one).

_________

Korilla never failed him.

It made it all the more shocking when the dwarf appeared at his side, stinking of sweat and brimstone. Her robe, ever flattering, was torn at the shoulder, and the slightly sweet, slightly sick, stink of burnt flesh filled the Devil’s Den. He reached out a hand on instinct, stabilizing her swaying form. The deal he’d been brokering fell by the wayside. A sinking feeling settled in his chest, all too familiar. His carefully laid plans might come apart at the seams. He felt invisible hands pulling at his stitches.

“What is the meaning of this?”

Korilla shook her head. “Your project…your mouse.” She winced. “Got in over her pretty head.” His warlock squeezed his wrist, “Raphael, I couldn’t…” She’d failed to protect his asset. “I kept them off her, but…”

The weight, curling, twisting; fate was determined to spite him again. And beneath that, more insidious, a second thought. Rage. Something had dared to touch her; something had maimed his pet.

The cambion bowed to his guests, lips pursed. “My associate here, lovely as she is, shall have to entertain you for a moment. Beg pardon, my dears.”

Raphael snapped his fingers.

_________

Pain blossomed through her side. Tav staggered back a step, bringing her weapon up to intercept the blow. The blade doesn’t break the skin; she managed to stop that much. The impact…she’s less fortunate. Her muscles screamed, something tearing in her shoulder.

She’d been stupid. Stupid and shortsighted…

All she’d wanted was a moment's peace. Tav had slipped from the party’s shared room at the Elfsong, determined to watch the sunset in silence. As dearly as she loved her friends, they could be loud and opinionated. After months on the road, with no privacy or distance, she figured she’d earned that much.

Bhaal’s cultists were waiting. If it’d only been a handful, she could have handled herself. It’d been more, so many more. An inane thought chased through her head as she danced out of the way of another strike: how many changelings were left in Baldur’s Gate? How many Bhaal cultists did Orin have? It seemed excessive.

Dozens. There were dozens of the damned creatures. For every cultist she killed, another three seemed to arise, like some hellish parody of the hydra. Tav was tired. One of them moved behind her, knife flashing in the dying light. Fresh pain as the blade tore through the muscles in her calf. She screamed. No, no, no, she had to keep moving. They couldn’t hobble her; she couldn’t…

“How dare you.”

She barely recognized the voice. She was aware of his heat before anything else; the cambion appeared beside her in a wash of flame, catching her attacker by the throat. Panic flashed across the changeling’s face, the briefest hint of emotion before Raphael’s claws tightened their hold. A warm spray of blood coated her face as he tore its throat free, leaving it choking through the ruin of flesh.

“Insolent creatures! You would touch what is mine?”

They tripped back, almost as one. Tav stared up at her savior, confused, vision swimming. The cambion, red, so red, fire and blood, his right-wing curled around her shoulders. Cherries and sulfur fill her nostrils, too sweet for the night air. Too soft in the face of his fury. Raphael snapped his fingers, and the air around them seemingly combusted. Hellfire consumed her would-be killers. Tendrils of shadow and flame consumed every ounce of flesh and bone, leaving nothing but a black mark on the streets.

She blinked, staring up at him. Raphael’s eyes continued to blaze, his jaw set. He dusted a nonexistent speck of dust from his sleeve, lips curling in a sneer. “Strange, I expected the god of murder to employ hardier thralls.”

Tav swallowed. Her throat burned. “Stealthy.”

“Hmm?”

She tried again, struggling to her feet. Raphael caught her elbow. Tav tried to ignore the press of his claws, itching, so full of potential, and the heat of his skin. It had to be the blood loss. His eyes glowed in the half-light. “Orin isn’t looking for hardy. They just need to be quick enough, quiet enough, to catch their victims off guard.” She frowned. “Tonight, they were.”

“Yes.” The lowness of his voice chased along her nerves like a caress. “Are you bold or stupid, pet? The city wants you dead, and here you are.” He motioned to the darkness surrounding them, the alley nearly bereft of light. "A little mouse, alone in the dark."

She scoffed. “I needed…I wanted a moment to myself. Is that too much to ask?” His gaze flicked to the scorched flagstones, brow arched. Tav shook her head. “Regardless, thank you. It…” she chewed the inside of her cheek. “Thank you. For saving me.”

“I sold myself as such, did I not? A friend and savior?”

Tav smiled. “Truth be told, I didn’t believe you.”

“And you’re more clever for it, sweetling.”

Color flared in her cheeks. He was too close for this. Too close, too sweet-smelling, too handsome, and too much. The air in her lungs felt overheated and stagnant by comparison. The blood loss, undoubtedly. Tav chewed her lower lip. “Did you…Raphael, before the…did you call me yours?”

His eyes narrowed. “Careful, pet.” It’s an answer in itself. Raphael extended his free hand to her. “Come. The devil shall return his erstwhile heroine to her companions.”

“I can make it back on my own.”

The severity of his expression left no room for argument. “No, you’ve lost the benefit of the doubt. I shall leave you safely in your bed. Not before.”

She hated the flare of heat in her belly. Raphael's hand settled at the small of her back, wings curling more closely as he whispered the incantation to return them to her room. Weak as it may be, she wrapped her arms around him.

The devil said nothing. But he bent, pressed nearer. Solid and strong, smelling of cherries and fire. Some part of her wondered what he would do if she kissed him.

Tav was saved from any potential embarrassment. Raphael left her at her bedside, bowing, smirking as if he’d followed the line of her thoughts. The damned creature took her left hand and kissed her knuckles.

And then he was gone in a swirl of fire and ash.

#raphael bg3 #bg3 raphael #raphael x tav #asks #my writing #love you friend #hope you like this #raph: i'm protecting my assets #Tav: I want to kiss him on his stupid sexy mouth

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yandereunsolved · 7 months ago

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☾ — Yandere Revali — ☾

"Impressive, I know. Very few can achieve a mastery of the sky. Yet I have made an art of creating an updraft that allows me to soar. It's considered to be quite the mastery of aerial techniques, even among the Rito."

"Hmm?"

"W-Were you not watching my feat of aerial mastery?"

"Sorry, Revali! I got distracted by one of the other Rito."

"Oh? What was this 'gracious' Rito speaking to you about? Was it that much more important than me?"

"It's nothing like that! I just got offered to be taught a few archery techniques. The Great Eagle Bow you gave me should be put to good use!"

What...? Some moronic half-cocked Rito is trying to teach you the thing I am greatest at? They're trying to teach my dear, my darling, my dove. How dare they.

"Ugh—such a betrayal. If you really want to learn something, then be taught by the master. Thousands have asked to receive my teachings, and I have turned every single one of them down. Yet, I extend my wing to you so you don't look so pathetic with that graceful bow on your back. Do you accept?"

"I kind of already made a promise that I'd go practice with them. You're really busy anyway. You have all that champion stuff you have to do. I wouldn't want to be a bother."

It seems like that Rito is about to have a flying accident. It'll be such a pity that they accidentally broke their wings and plummeted towards the ground. Their body will be barely recognizable. A pity. Such a pity.

"Nonsense. I could not allow my Hylian visitor to look like a fool in my village.However, if you already promised, it would be disrespectful of me to try and twist your word. Just take one of my feathers, will you? As good luck for your practice."

"Thank you for being understanding. It's such a kind gesture."

A gesture that you are mine. Such a silly Hylian. You don't know how courting is in Rito culture. Keeping that feather on you means that you are my new mate; you have accepted me. I hope that twat sees my feather in your hair before I kill him.

"I am nothing if not generous." my love

( @sunset-peril @sixofcrowley )

#loz #legend of zelda #botw #breath of the wild #yandere #yandere drabble #revali #botw revali #champion revali #revali x reader #yandere revali x reader #yandere linked universe #yandere legend of zelda #yandere legend of zelda x reader #drabble #loz fanfic #yandere botw #the legend of zelda

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wakacreations · 25 days ago

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Infernal Hugs:

What if Tav were to hug their love (Zevlor, Rolan, Raphael, Haarlep) after the immediate end of the Netherbrain battle? I thought it would be fun write up to do and to make sure I write them distinct enough from each other.

Zevlor:

We fell together. The heavens couldn't have written a more poetic fate. Maybe it’s by some strange form of repentance from Ilmater or a great act by Sune to have found ourselves here. Your hand reached for me as we plumped from the Netherbrain. How many times will you reach out to me? To save me from my perils? I grasped for your hand, my one devotion. “We will be safe.” You reassured me through the bellowing air. “You will be safe," I yelled back but my words never made it to your ears. “What," you called out to me. I pulled you towards I shielding you from the harsh slam from breaching the surface of the murky waters below. With a great thud we entered the frigid smelly harbor.

You choked on water as I rushed to drag us up to reach the skies above. We gasped when we took our first smoky breath of air. “Look out,” you coughed, pulling us down into the water as debris rained down from above. You motioned for I to follow you to make way to the dock. Are we still actually alive or is this some type of purgatory? Holding you up you clamored atop the dock, more so what was left of one. You held out your arm and I graciously took it as I dragged myself on the dry refuge. We laid there basking in the warmth of the sun. “You know I fully expected not to survive that fall,” you breathed. “I wouldn't have allowed us to perish so easily,” I rasped, shielding my eyes against the rays of the sunset. “Did you have a plan for such a scenario, Commander?” You coughed. “But of course who wouldn't?” You went silent except for your shaky breathing. “Tav?” I called out to you. “Yes?” You rolled to lay atop my breast. “Let's have a drink after this…” I sighed. If anything, not to dwell on their unsaid confession. “What changed? You're not one down a bottle, Hellrider?” I wrapped an arm around you. By the gods they were the death of me. “You. You my dear.” They gave a swat at my chest. “You make it seem like I'm more trouble than I'm worth,” you huffed. I squeeze you close. “If anything that title seems meant for I.” You looked into my eyes. “Then we are meant to be, aren't we" you grinned. "Two people that are more troubled than anyone could comprehend... So we are the only ones who can tolerate one another.. So, a perfect match!” I moved a wet tendril behind your ear. “Maybe you are right.” Maybe I just lost my sense of reason. You listened to the beating of my weary heart. I idly stroked your hair as I waited for my strength to return. You yawned as we watched the sun dip below the horizon. If the gods are listening, give me the strength to fight alongside them even for just one more day. Sleep came to them when they snored in my arms. Would it be alright for I to rest like this? I felt my own lids grow heavy. Let me keep this one oath to my radiant light, to the one I call home.

Rolan:

I didn't think you would ever return. I ran towards you as you leaned prone against the doorframe. I held you close not believing this was true. “You should have waited to be seen by a cleric or have drunk a tavern's worth of healing potions.” Your lips have turned a soft blue hue, the warmth drained from your complexion. “Why do you have no sense of self preservation!” I picked you up, your trembling arms wrapped around my neck. “I'm alright,” you whispered into my skin. “There is no point in lying,” placing you down atop the shop's counter. Not to save my heart when death is calling for you. “Don't let me go,” you whined as you weakly held onto me. “Take the potion at the very least,” levitating a bottle, nudging the glass against their hand. You drank it appreciatively over my shoulder. I won't let you go, Tav. Not when you have come back to me. Some strength returned to you as your hold grew tighter. “Don't fall asleep just yet, the others are looking for you," I whispered. You shivered against my chest. There are too many unknown injuries you might have sustained. If only that was a possibility you hadn't. I pulled my head back to watch some color return to your bruised face. “I'm so tired Rolan,” you mumbled sleepily nuzzling into the crook of my neck. “I know. I am too but promise me that you will stay awake for me, love.” I gently stroked your sweat-dampened hair. I won't let this be the very last moment for us. For I to hold you within my arms. For you to cling to I with such fear when this reunion should be met with tears of sweet happiness. This won't be the end, Tav. I placed a kiss upon your clown. With you in my arms.

Raphael:

It was a spur of moment impulse that the little mouse fell into my arms. I was in the middle of giving my grand wide armed bow to congratulate them on their well earned victory. “My was it such a spectacle to behold for all the realms to bear to witness,” I greeted them. I must applaud my own writing and to my main lead for their beautiful performance. Yet, you went off script in the bitter end. I should have expected no less from you. All joyous and smiling you were that you interrupted me, eager to rush into my awaiting arms. Hmm.. What manner of place is this for you to leave an unexpected surprise for me in such a gesture. For the first words you spoke to me after the finale was for your desire to go home. “By all means, little mouse.” Such an eager pipsqueak you were If only you cleaned yourself up first. You were still covered in the sinew of battle which fit the image I have conjured of you for this heroic end… but the stench of those illithids clung onto your skin. Somehow you always found a way to irritate my senses. Your body pressed against my own ruining my pristine doublet. But for now, what good is there to spoil the mood of our upcoming festivities. My arms came down to enclose you. “There is much to celebrate,” I purred into your ear. You shivered at my words. There is much time for you to rest but come morning the crown will be in my palms and for you to reprise your role. We watched on as the last remnants of the Netherbrain sank into the Chionthar. There is no better than the great savior of Baldur’s Gate to lead once more. The day of reckoning shall come. It is with a great honor that I thank you. “This would not have been a great act without you, little mouse,“ snapping my fingers, the lick of Hellfire consumed us both. Let's partake and enjoy our supper as the rest of the realms will come to know my name. Raphael.

Harleep:

Well well my little thief comes bearing gifts. You crawled towards me covered in whatever grim from that filthy plane. That little brat won't be pleased you have ruined his silken sheets for this special occasion. Well that is something he'll have to come to ignore. To say that I am surprised to see you again would be an understatement. “I made it back. I won,” you spoke as if your fears had all but vanished. To have held faith you would return here to me, you are nothing but a loyal pup. “Then come here and claim your prize,” I beckoned to you. So easily you let down your guard, Tav. You eagerly climbed onto my lap, embracing me. “You were free now little mouse yet you purposely returned back to the Hells.” I trailed my claws down your back. My little adorable mousey, you are not the brightest in mind. You yelped when my claws pressed on a sensitive area. “They did a number on you didn't they,” feeling the openings of bare flesh where once plated armor clung to. You were always so delectable but now I crave for something more. “Yes they did,” you sighed enjoying my soothing heat. That’s it, just relax my dear. “I missed you, Haarlep” you hummed. From the lingering sweetness I tasted in the air your words were true. How foolish of you but did I ever expect nothing more. “Let's stay like this for a little while longer,” wrapping my arms around you. You always enjoyed the soft gentle acts of lovers. I have grown fond in your ways. “I missed you too,” my head fell to rest on your shoulder. I will play into this fantasy of yours. I do enjoy a game of make believe. The gentle thumping in that chest of yours is all I could hear. I closed my eyes, savoring in the waves of your heart’s pleasure. More sweeter than any infernal wine or the pleasures I bestow onto you when you come to rest. Maybe just for a millennia he will grow tired of you and toss you away like so many others. Wouldn’t that be such a joyous fantasy? Your worn hands caressed my tense muscles. You shouldn’t have come back here, little thief. “It’s alright, I am here.” You soothed me with that tender voice of yours. I will indulge in you and for everything that you give but not here, anywhere but here. “No more tears, Haarlep,” you rubbed circles into my back. There is no such thing, mousey. My wings folded around us. He won’t let you escape here. “Please never leave,” I trembled against your small battered body. I am a selfish creature. You have saved everyone in Faerun, Tav. “Stay here with me, mouse. Pretty please?” For he has yet to return. Could you please save me too?

#bg3 #bg3 zevlor #zevlor #zevlor nation #bg3 rolan #rolan #holy rolan empire #bg3 raphael #raphael bg3 #raphael the cambion #bg3 haarlep #haarlep #haarlep the incubus

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1-800-local-slut · 1 month ago

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Caught

Elle gets a caught starting and gets a talk from someone about her crush on BAU reader.

"Sometimes we let our feelings get ahead of our own skills as profilers. Don't forget you can read many people better than themselves."

"He's a she."

Warnings: none, Elle is a simp, Aaron means well, mentions of drinking

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Her eyes were stuck. Drawn magnetically to the object of her desires: you. Elle had a big fat crush on you. She thought about you when she first woke each morning, and when she went to bed. She thought about running away with you, leaving the chaos of the FBI behind. She thought about taking your hand and running down the halls of the building before giving you a big kiss and the two of you hoping in her car and driving off into the sunset.

She smelt your perfume when you were nowhere nearby. When you hugged her, she resisted the urge to take a very deep inhale of your clothing to smell you. And when you roomed together (as you had designated yourself as her bunk buddy) and you two got changed out of your work clothes each night she had to force her eyes away, God forbid she was found out.

Seeing you in pajamas hurt her more, as she was helpless to imagine how it would feel to snuggle up beside you with each night and drift into a peaceful sleep. What would it be like, to come home together? She would cook dinner if you wanted (she'd do everything if you wanted) while you cleaned up around the house (she'll do that too, but she knows you'd never let her do everything alone) fixing up the tornado you two left that morning.

What would it be like, to sit down to eat dinner together? Forget sitting at the table, you'd just cuddle on the couch. Elle doesn't care for your personal space really; she honestly wants to be physically attached at the hip to you.

Hell, she'd leave everything she worked for behind just for a chance to be with you. Which is why, right now in this shitty club you all went too to celebrate closing your last case, she sat there. She sat there, fidgeting with her straw and twirling it around in her drink. Staring at you. Because in such a crowded place, no one would possibly know that she was ONLY staring at you. She had to take her chances when they came.

The lights illuminated your dancing form as you danced around with Derek. Your hair was put up tonight, with pieces framing your face. Beautiful. So, so, so beautiful. She could ignore the smell of 1000 different mixing perfumes; she could ignore the smell of sweaty bodies and the lights giving her a slight headache.

And the pounding music that made it hard to hear her own thoughts. She could ignore how much her wallet cried from the price of drinks (which is why they all decided to just pool their money and buy a bottle because who has 15 dollars for a coquito?) but Elle didn't want to just drink straight liquor. She needed something to balance it out, so she sensibly purchased a Dark and Stormy.

While you tore up the dance floor with Morgan, SSA Aaron Hotchner was a man of his age. So, it was time for him to take a nice seat next to Elle and interrupted her much needed time to take in all of your movements.

Now, it's important to know that when you're a profiler, you know when you're being profiled. From the moment he sat down next to her on the leather purple seats of the club and adjusted himself to feel comfortable in the suit he was still wearing, he was also following her eyes. Maybe he didn't even realize that he was now staring at the younger agent who twirled around on the dance floor and ignored the advances of men who approached her.

Elle realized it though. She didn't care if Aaron knew she was attracted to women. What wasn't to love about women? Women were great. But you were something special. She just didn't want to be caught...feeling. Feeling so much about someone she works so closely work in such perilous situations on a regular basis.

Her entire body screamed at her not to look away. Forcing her eyes down to the table, she tried convincing herself that the ring of condensation around her glass was the most fascinating thing in the world. It wasn't fast enough though.

Certainly not fast enough to get by Aaron who often didn't know what to do with his emotional intelligence. He always knew when something was wrong, he just never really knew what to say or do about it. Not to his female coworkers either. Elle gnawed on the inside of her cheek and thought about anything else hoping the chair would just swallow her up.

Why he was giving her some strange look of pity, she didn't really know. Hopefully he would fill her in soon, because this was getting awkward. As the song changed, you and Morgan excitedly began to jump around, seemingly feeling the grove of this one.

"You know, it's nothing to worry about."

"What?" She looked up, biting the inside of her cheek until it started to hurt a little. Aaron was clearly a few drinks in, because normally he would've offered a supportive pat and then ignored her in favor of pretending nothing was wrong.

"Morgan. I mean, that's just...how he is." Aaron hesitated and honestly it wasn't the dumbest thing to think. Objectively Derek was very handsome. Charming and funny and what not. The only reason why they worked so well, was because Elle was not interested in him. Or any type of man. But honestly, she was a little offended, why she wasn't sure. Actually, she knew why. Because anyone's first assumption should be that she's with you. The thought of anything else killed her just a bit.

Raising an eyebrow, and glancing back between Aaron and the dance floor, she almost laughed in his face. The lights changed across her face and made Aaron look either very pale or like some sort of underwater creature depending on the coloring.

"I think anyone who has sight can see that your here being miserable over it. Morgan is, well, he's friendly with a everyone. Male or female." It came out awkward, and a little choppy.

Oh. Oh no, he thought she was jealous. Jealous of you for dancing with Morgan. Most certainly not. But maybe it would be a little funny to just...see where he takes this. In true Elle fashion she just had to poke a little bit of fun at men.

Taking a deep breath, she couldn't stop the crooked grin that came across her lips and brushed a piece of hair out of her eyes.

"Morgan's not really my type. I do like someone though; it is getting me a little down." Elle shrugged, looking at him innocently just to see if what advice he could even give for this.

"Well, whoever it is, I think you should try. Instead of just sitting here I mean. Sometimes we let our feelings get ahead of our own skills as profilers. Don't forget you can read many people better than themselves. You can think that you've observed each part of someone, and that means they don't like you. Over profiling is a thing you know. Whoever he is, I'm sure you have a pretty decent chance and you're over thinking it." Aaron continued, letting the whiskey talk for him. She chuckled, letting him go on. What was the harm, when could you get more than fifteen words out of Hotch at a time? Plus, it was actually a bit helpful.

What if he was right? What if all those times she thought you were just being friendly, just being 'girl friends' were actually you just letting her know you felt the same or were feeling the same type of fear? What if she was too deep in her own mental prison to really let herself take a chance? Put herself out there and what not.

"Huh." Confidence filled her, as she took a sip from her drink and felt blood rushing through her. Maybe she couldn't ask you out right now. But it was better to do something other than sitting here staring at you like she was getting paid to do it.

"Maybe your right Hotch." He looked up, from fidgeting with his cuff links and tilted his head slightly? What, did he forget what he said already?

He watched her rise up from her seat and stretch. He glanced around the club, his curiosity urging him to look around for who she was intending to approach at this moment. Like clockwork, the two FBI Agents looked at the woman who was laughing with Morgan while they conversed with two random women who were clearly very interested in the two. Slowly the dots connected for Hotch.

"Oh, and Hotch? He's a she."

#black reader #x reader #x black reader #fem reader #multifandom account #requests open #elle greenaway x black reader #live laugh love elle greenaway #elle greenaway x fem reader #elle greenaway x reader #elle greenaway #wlw #their lesbians your honor #cm #criminal minds fluff #aaron hotchner is a sweetie #tiny tiny angst

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mixtapedoh · 4 months ago

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cupid is so dumb | c.s.

welcome back to SVTU ! lost your way? refer to our campus map for directions

pairing: choi seungcheol x gn!reader with guest appearances from y. jeonghan, k. soonyoung, and more !

word count: ~8.7k genre: best friend's brother warnings: language, a potentially rushed ending (forgive me, it was getting Lengthy™), one allusion to drowning, reader is bad at pottery (r.i.p. if you're an art major as a trade)

☄. *. ⋆

olive's notes: apologies for this taking far longer than expected. i was half done with it and then i was suddenly accosted with responsibility and work??? cruel and unusual punishment. i know all of you would never treat me this way.

☄. *. ⋆

now playing... ılı.lıllılı.ıllı. ... ⌜ adore you — harry styles ⌟

CUPID IS SO DUMB ☄. *. ⋆

— seungcheol had long been comfortable taking risks.

just flip through his life like you would a resume, or skim it like you would a textbook that you're not particularly riveted by, but have a test on the next day; it doesn't take a close read to realize that seungcheol had grown quite accustomed to living life on the edge. becoming perhaps... too comfortable with the idea of "no risk; no gain."

i mean, just consider the cliff notes: he was jeonghan's blood relative, to start (one didn't exactly be the Older and More Responsible half to Jeonghan Nonsense™ without growing quite fond of hazard); when choosing a minor in college he decided to say fuck it to logic and choose sculpture of all things; consider also that time he invested real money into thomas the train seungkwan's youtube career or shua's random ass print-on-demand merchandise business venture; or consider even singular moments like when he was roped in skydiving; literally any activity he cosigned on with jeonghan; those illegal u-turns he did every day when trying to turn into the parking for sunset plot; that time he followed minghao through a convincingly haunted graveyard at night to shortcut back to the dorms from a party (hao might not have been phased, but ghosts are real, thank you very much, and the nightlife cheol saw that night was certainly not natural); again, his living alongside yoon jeonghan for almost all of his life; and, perhaps most daring of them all, having a very-secret, very-manageable, not-at-all-concerning-or-annoyingly-insistent crush…

a very inconvenient crush on a very lovely (though still inconvenient) you.

— so yes. take it all in. breathe deeply in the knowledge of choi seungcheol's comfortability and perhaps audacious affinity toward peril.

if one lived their life on the edge, perhaps nothing could conquer them.

to be quite honest, seungcheol prayed that adage (something likely made up out of thin air by jeonghan specifically to convince cheol to err on the side of risk many years ago) would hold true. after all, he was far too deep in to get out without an egregious stain, now.

— you see, choi seungcheol was a man of risk, that much has been established. however, and conversely, he was also a man with a great amount of common sense. to him, an alarming amount of things in life were apparent.

that he should just shut his mouth when it came to the feelings bubbling over for you, was simply one of those easily observed phenomena.

— you were jeonghan’s best friend, for fuck’s sake! had been since perhaps the ripe age of 6? 8? it wasn’t all that important to know the exact age when you had started to stick to jeonghan like glue, all that mattered was that you seemingly spawned into cheol’s life one summer when jeonghan was still small enough to tear up when he’d get scrapes on his knees, and in your very first meeting, you publicly shamed him.

he! choi seungcheol!

jeonghan had fallen after one of their many elaborate adventures led to climbing over a chain-link fence to retrieve something the both of them… magically misplaced. (certainly they hadn’t thrown it over the fence. they? throwing large objects over a fence? into property that was not theirs? just what sort of children did you take them for? delinquents? certainly not, you were mistaken. they had a very strict halmeoni at home that would not allow naughty children to rest under their family’s roof, thank you very much.) so, yes, jeonghan had fallen and thus, seungcheol had been the one to scale the fence himself, throw their things back over the fence, and climb back the way he’d come in record time. jeonghan was still understandably teary-eyed and sniffling at his grim fall, his appalling scraped knees, and the horrible holes in his shorts that would need mending, but seungcheol was there with a comforting hand…

and a persuasive voice begging him to not tell their family what had happened, of course.

— and let’s just set the record straight, alright, because cheol was not shaming jeonghan for crying. please. even at the ripe age of ambiguously preadolescent, cheol wasn’t buying into that toxic masculinity, boys can’t cry rhetoric. he was woke! he had been born with modern sensibilities! but he couldn’t very well walk home with a crying jeonghan in tow. that would raise questions. even more than the already present problem of ripped clothing.

cheol was the (barely) older brother, here! do you realize what it would do to his privileges if jeonghan came home crying?

he was merely trying to cajole jeonghan into a grin and sworn secrecy. sue him.

— but of course, you would take this opportunity to confront him about it.

“confront” being your words, should the matter of your initial meeting ever be brought up, of course. according to cheol, your words that day would always be “berating,” “publicly shaming,” “slapping his wrist” (though you did have to give him that one — you did, in fact, slap his wrist) and any other exaggeration that would get you to snort.

— in the end, though, you had helped seungcheol come up with a convenient lie involving the swingset at the park just across from your house, and so i suppose one might judge the situation a net positive.

— you came over to jeonghan the next time you saw him out and about and asked him how his knees were — even going so far as to offer him a choco pie you had all but smashed in your pocket, so, of course, the two of you were immediate and lifelong friends.

— and now, for another round of clarity, cheol did not fall in love with you upon first meeting you.

— please. being publicly humiliated (*cue your interjection here to remind cheol that for your first meeting being such a public event, there was, truly, a strong lack of public to view the exchange. there were perhaps a handful of people with the opportunity to witness the event. and even fewer actively attending to the bickering exchange of random children by a nondescript chain-link fence.) was not the prepubescent meet cute one might be inclined to consider.

besides, do you really think cheol was slick enough to hide something like that for more than a decade? you believe too strongly in his relational opacity. he could barely hide mere distaste for a professor during a single semester course. you really think he could keep this shit on lock for the better part of his whole existence? your faith is admirable, but horribly, atrociously misguided.

— his feelings wouldn’t really blossom for another ambiguous handful (8? 10?) of years. deepest apologies for not knowing the exact number of years or the precise age when all of this turned about. seungcheol’s never claimed to be gifted at recollection. besides, being a little clueless is a little endearing, no? charming? perhaps adorable and begrudgingly loveable?

stfu, just let him have this.

— all you really need to know is that it was a stupid and trite moment when the neurons fired and the dots connected and cheol realized he was in deep shit.

— it was in ceramics class (not at all helpful to aid in placing this exact moment in time — cheol started taking ceramics every year from the moment it was offered to him, and you joined him in the classes through high school, an entertaining enough art credit, and hey, if things ever weren’t Turning Out Right, cheol was there to fix it for you, so as long as you bought him a cherry coke every so often and amused him with good enough conversation; ceramics meant a social hour and easy grade. a sweet deal, really. you’d long become accustomed to taking those). you and cheol were side by side doing a wheel throwing project, and quite unprompted, you began convincing him to pursue art fully — as in, dedicate those long, exhausting college years to ceramics or sculpting! anything, really, that was artsy and hands-on. he had a knack for it, according to you, and it would be simply devastating if he squandered it for business of all things.

you kept everything he’d ever made for you or handed off to you in passing when his parents started to suggest there was a growing lack of shelf space for all his assignments and passion projects, so you’d vouch for his talent; and you continued on, talking about how cool it would be to become an artist and get your artwork displayed, and the different ways it could be impactful beyond artistically fulfilling... but cheol was sort of still stuck on your first admission. that you kept it all — even those shitty pots he made at twelve years old, with subzero points in functionality, and probably a strong lack of aesthetic value.

it just… stuck with him. that you had kept some small, unrefined part of him and were advocating for more.

— and, well, it didn’t exactly hurt that you looked strikingly beautiful through it all. a sort of uneven smile on your face, dried clay streaking your cheek from when cheol marked you after stealing a sip of his drink (though you had teasingly called him “cheollie” as a portmanteau of his name and the beverage he’d grown an affinity towards since you always seemed to have one on you, and it seemed well worth it, in the end, to share. he was perhaps not-so-secretly hoping the name would stick.), and your eyes… all the warmth of wonder mixed with rapt attention at the dilapidated vase you were attempting to form in your hands.

cheol laughed when one of the sides collapsed and you swore baldly, apologizing sheepishly when your teacher looked at you with blinking surprise.

“here, let me…”

and he leaned over to help even it out, not minding the proximity until after, when you thanked him warmly the way you always had, sticking that stupidly endearing “cheollie” nickname on the end, and making his gaze flick to you — grinning and impossibly close. so close - too close - if he moved a single muscle he’d be right close enough to…

he reeled back at the nearness of you, laughing even more, trying to hide that flustered feeling of his insides unexpectedly turning inside out with a half baked plea that the nickname was too mushy, when really, it wasn’t the word but his heart that was turning too-soft at the thought of you.

but at the very least, his contagious giggling got to you, and the moment was made beautiful by the sound of your laughter mixing with his.

— yes, high school was when cheol fell in love with you. he didn’t really clock the depth of his newly conscious crush on you for a month or so more, but it set in with a vengeance not long after, and so it was lucky for him, truly, when your parents took you abroad for the final few months of that school year.

— jeonghan’s teasing had become unbearable at that point (the bastard was swearing he clocked it years prior to cheol himself, and the part that stung the most was that it almost seemed believable. the minor kink in jeonghan’s claim was the lack of pointed teasing before cheol became Obviously Down Bad, but hannie’s reasoning for that was airtight - that he was letting it marinate because victory would be so much sweeter when cheol realized it himself while jeonghan proved to be all-knowing. not that such a turn of events was surprising, of course.) so it was, truly, the benevolent hands of fate that spirited you away for those few months.

— or maybe fate was not-so-benign.

after all. cheol had been, at the time, stuck in the very awkward, very unbearable position of Having A Big Ass Crush and also being Quite Totally Incapable Of Hiding It. he had almost gotten the wherewithal to just come out with it on more than one occasion, but the timing was always all off, and then he’d stumble upon some head empty advice funneled his way via his ever meddling brothers that would talk about the inherent dangers of The Confession in a group of friends.

and like… yeah, cheol was a risk taker, but uhh…

— so maybe all of that risk taking was a little less representative of his true personality and a little more influenced by the fact that he was always The Older One™ — the leader of his little ragtag circus of friends, if you will — and him putting on a brave face and always just doing the damn thing was really a way to care for his friends. show them they weren’t alone.

like, consider that throughout their childhood, seungcheol mostly supported jeonghan’s wild plots and exploration simply so his younger brother would never get into trouble alone. little hannie? suffering consequences of his actions?? solo??? that was something cheol could simply not bear.

and the skydiving: little kwannie was starting to get cold feet, of course cheol wouldn’t let him do it alone. the graveyard mishap? what was he going to do, let hao do it on his own?? was chivalry found dead on a sketchy-looking canal bank, more on this story at 5??? cheol was born a ride or die. no skeleton in your closet could be too unsightly — do you wanna pop it in the incinerator or are you more inclined to digging graves? — trust that if you were at all close to choi seungcheol’s inner circle, you would never have to face the music alone.

he would be right there next to you, a steady hand to hold and a casual wink to throw your way should you begin to lose your resolve.

— so yeah, cheol got cold feet anytime the opportunity to confess to you presented itself. sue him.

but maybe just hold off for a bit before filing the papers — jeonghan had once been considering attorney as a potential career path, but swerved from the course after binging four separate political dramas one summer (your influence, of course). at the moment, cheol didn’t exactly have a go-to for legal action, but give him a day or two; being a student ambassador meant the better part of his daily was dedicated to networking. he could charm anyone within a mere 10 minutes of knowing them — 5, if they were particularly weak in defenses (but never tell them that, of course).

— it had been an excruciating time in high school, when He Was Aware and You Were Present, and it had been a double-edged opportunity when you had left and there was little to be done. but then you had just… stayed that way. gone. abroad. across oceans and timezones and sure, still there in the confines of his phone, but not the same, really.

after all, you had always been jeonghan’s friend before his.

and more and more, he’d been finding it hard to hold a conversation without turning stupidly shy at any joke or innuendo or light prodding that might coax something out of him he was oh-so-tirelessly trying to push down.

— so sure, the two of you talked and still kept a general rapport. but it wasn’t like he was your first point of contact when you wanted to learn anything about what was happening “back home”

— which directly informed why, in seungcheol’s opinion, you hadn’t told him beforehand when all but four days ago you transferred from another university to svtu, flying all the way back to him home.

— jeonghan had been oddly insistent that cheol meet him for lunch sometime that week — even going so far as to skip a class (a vapid lecture, jeonghan was quick to assure him. modern political theory was apparently not the rigorous headache promised, per the grave tone of the syllabus) so as to work around the many events cheol was negotiating and fixing for the showcase the college of business was going to have rather soon.

— cheol knew something was up.

chat, is it inherently suspicious when your brother is actively taking time off so the two of you can go get a meal together at the tung-tung grille — one of those overpriced, trendy places that pop up on college campuses for date nights and celebrations you certainly can’t afford?

no? oh, forgive him, did he mention the brother in question was the yoon jeonghan?

— needless to say, some spidey-senses were tingling. anytime cheol would attempt to glean greater depth from this seemingly random outing, jeonghan would masterfully steer the conversation elsewhere. annoyingly and transparently so — he knew that seungcheol was wise to what was happening, and yet, frankly, my dear, jeonghan didn’t give a damn. in fact, a betting man might even posit that jeonghan knew that cheol was wise to his machinations and the fucker gleaned some sort of glee and sinister schadenfreude from the whole affair.

“hannie, just tell me what this is about—”

“should i bring anything that might be relevant—”

“who else is going to be there?”

“is it just brothers? should i call s—”

“won’t you just tell me—”

“no, listen, listen—”

“yoon jeonghan—”

— this fucker.

or, more aptly, this fucker²

— becase please, pray tell, when, why and how you had crossed the oceans and timezones, country lines and memories to be sitting here, across the table from seungcheol, now???

and of course, jeonghan had the gall to tease him about his apparent fish out of water behavior.

so sorry for the inconvenience, hannie! cheol had gotten quite used to life without random revelation and secret sneak attack in the years since the jeonghan-y/n alliance had been uprooted, and he wasn’t at all prepared for anything like this.

— violently choking on his tonkatsu might not have been the most sophisticated or charming reaction to finding out your old crush was back in town, but it certainly conveyed his surprise, if nothing else.

but by the sound of your laughter as cheol recovered from death by pork cutlet, you were endeared by the whole affair.

… that was endearment, right?

— so sue him for wanting to cash in on charm of the loser variety in front of his massive, years-long crush!

don’t act like jeonghan is any better — ever since he settled down with his beau, the man was down so atrocious it was sickening.

and as for you… well, cheol had never seen you crush on anyone, really, since middle school when all of your embarrassing affection meant waxing poetic about the object of your affections and then pulling cheol into hiding should you run into them anywhere outside of the protection of your school desk. if he thought about it enough, he could still recall the feel of your hand in his as you dragged him behind increasingly comical barriers — around corners, behind doors, kiosks at the mall, even massive plant pots with overgrown foliage. he’d always laugh and poke you in the ribs and you’d scowl until the ticklish feeling gave way to begruding mirth.

— and you still had that crooked sort of mischievous grin, now.

“you transferred to svtu?”

“yeah!” and you divulged all the details of your transfer process: the major you were undertaking, the classes you had been attending since the semester’s start a week ago, and even the accommodations at phantom studios — the building all on-campus transfer students stayed in for at least one year after arriving to svtu’s main campus.

and all while you talked, cheol just sat there, still far too stunned to take in even half of it. here you were, after years of being apart (4? 5? literally stop grilling him over this, guys.), somehow not at all what he would have expected, and yet precisely the same. your words were all different, but your smile was the same. the light in your eyes shifted, but somehow when it caught the light to glisten, time had never passed at all and you were still there, next to the busted chain-link fence where all of this began, and cheol’s world was so wide, yet intimately familiar.

— how can a moment be new and nostalgic, exciting yet tinged with mourning?

“wahhh, s.coups, look at what n/n is still wearing.”

and, of course, how can a moment always manage to be punctuated by jeonghan’s persistent, dulcet tones?

— you were rolling your eyes and slapping jeonghan’s wrist as he attempted to grab yours — there rested a thin, woven bracelet. a friendship bracelet. an old memory. “where’s yours hannie? when we made them you swore up and down you’d never take it off.”

— “ah, well, cheolie—”

— “who showed you around campus?”

(oddly, jeonghan seemed rather pleased to be interrupted.)

— see, that was bothering cheol. you were a new student — freshly transferred and started at svtu all but a week ago, when the semester had began. as a student ambassador, cheol was more than familiar with the ins-and-outs of the admissions office and transfer student resources — he knew the process for applying for anything at svtu. he had walked enough people through it himself, sat right beside them on that (very unforgiving) couch in the admissions office.

— because of that, cheol knew all too well that all new students — transfer or otherwise — were generally given a tour from a student ambassador. ideally, it would be someone from your same college offering the tour (camaraderie and networking and all that — setting each student up with the beginnings of a support system that all universities love to tout), but in practice, people sort of just chose whatever ambassador they liked best or had a more-open schedule. after all, the gist of the tour was always the same.

you’d been given the option to schedule a tour online when you were filling out your transfer application, a whole page dedicated to slapping a photograph of every student ambassador on your screen. you would have seen his face with a bolded sunset orange “SCHEDULE A TOUR WITH C. SEUNGCHEOL” button right beside.

call him insecure, but cheol wanted to know why you hadn’t picked him. who did you choose instead of him? soonyoung?

— he was pouting, and jeonghan was filled with glee.

“ah — i deferred a tour, actually.”

(maybe that softened his pout… just barely.)

— so not soonyoung, then. did jeonghan show you around? maybe both of his brothers, together?? speaking of, where was s—

“i wanted to let jeonghan have his surprise. but after… i was planning on booking you.”

— oh, vindication is sweet.

“who else could i choose? what was his name - kwon soonyoung?”

— and so passed the rest of your lunch date.

— the next time cheol saw you in person (the siblings + 1 group chat had been reinstated, and so of course hannie and cheol took the opportunity to shame their youngest brother for missing out on the welcome home feast that he hadn’t known was even planned; he promised to make it up to the very benevolent y/n, though, claiming there was nothing a coffee and gossip session couldn’t fix) was for the campus tour you’d officially scheduled through the svtu homepage.

(cheol had shown you how to do it at tung-tung grille after jeonghan had left, leaning over your shoulder from behind and coaxing you to tell him all about your time abroad — the sights, the sounds, the food, the art, the love… and maybe getting a little too lost in the moment and losing track of time, making it late to boxing because he simply had to drive you back to where you were going. please. take the campus shuttles? walk? cheol would never allow that. he had a perfectly good passenger seat, thank you very much, and now that you were here, well, it sort of had your name on it, right?)

— but yes, the campus tour. he met you at the heart of campus in his dorky svtu polo shirt (a mandated uniform for such appearances, i fear) where the tours always began. the two of you would be taking the flower path walking past some of the best and most useful buildings first, and then move on to explore your particular section of the absolutely massive campus, as dictated by your major.

you had poked fun at his ugly ass polo, and then poked quite literally at his dimples when they appeared, having coaxed them out with that old nickname that still only belonged to you: “cheollie.” it had flustered cheol so bad he reverted to that annoyingly shy sort of giggling that he thought he’d long conquered since it hadn’t been quite so bad since the distance of you.

he laughed and you grabbed his hand in yours and pulled him down the sidewalk, initially setting off in the wrong direction for your tour, though cheol was quite happy to lead you back the way you’d come.

— you spotted the friendship bracelet on his wrist, then, and badgered cheol until he told you a story of how he won it off of jeonghan when they were playing poker one night and hannie failed to cheat well enough to win.

you scoffed at the idea that your silly little friendship bracelet held any kind of monetary value, but the idea of it warmed you nonetheless.

— and if, afterward, he insisted on getting something to eat (paying for it, of course; despite any protests you could conjure, cheol was dead set on treating you like visiting royalty — he had so much lost time to make up for, after all) and drive you to your next class (it was on his way! he swore up and down he had business in the library of the very same building), well… he was just taking the long and devoted road to re-acquaintance. so much time had passed, after all. it would only be natural for you to have changed in your time apart — become someone with new facets to discover and old habits to rekindle.

and you had changed — in so many beautiful ways, it seemed. you had grown different and occasionally disparate, but somehow the adjusting seemed to be a familiar dance, and in a way that was unfortunate only because it made him feel like a schoolboy, it seemed that the feelings cheol had whenever he was around you (the giddy kind that made him feel like he was taking that ill-advised jump for a skydiving free-fall) were all too familiar, too — imperishable, damn them.

and when you were leaning in the window of the passenger's side, bathed in sunlight and grinning as he dropped you off for whatever was next, you poked the divot of his dimple once more. “text you soon, cheollie.”

— and he was a blushing idiot all over again, desperate for more.

CUPID IS SO DUMB (CONT.) ☄. *. ⋆

— if there was one thing you’d learned since transferring to svtu, it was that your roommates were people people, as in, two very people-oriented individuals. as in, lots of friends, lots of desire in connecting with and supporting those friends, and a Very Distinct Drive to introduce you to and connect you with all of said friends.

which i rather think explains the density of your social calendar.

— of course, it wasn’t as though yuta and nicha forced you to join them in their myriad social outings, it was simply that there was always an explicit invitation given should they be going out that day (which was almost everyday — especially after yuta made friends with a frat house and nicha quickly established a friend group that spanned so many different colleges and social groups it was beyond impressive), and always the promise (lovingly followed through) of actually spending time with you should you accompany them, and, well… why not live a little? you’d come to svtu for something new, right? might as well take full advantage of that your first year, when you were the most eager to start anew.

which should rather explain why you were at the norebang that night.

— to be quite honest, it was a little lost in translation why everyone was meeting up at the norebang. it wasn’t as though it was a club holding an event, and it wasn’t someone’s birthday (as far as you knew) — the point was, there were two vip rooms bought out and perhaps 60 people or so between them, and despite the fact that there was no alcohol allowed in the family friendly establishment, there were all manner of drinking games with the loser chugging as much soda as they possibly could before choking on their own aspirations.

and like, okay, maybe there was some alcohol involved, but everyone kept quiet about it. the norebang was just off campus and a very popular spot for college students to celebrate, but because it was a family-friendly joint, there was an explicit no-spirits policy, and did you want to be the one who got everyone banned just because you couldn’t hide the flasks from old man park jin-young?? be so serious, rn.

— but the norebang truly was so much fun. you had started the night in vip room 1, nicha dragging you there so you could meet the rest of her friends that you hadn’t get become acquainted with (you were already friendly with yuqi and shuhua, who lived at sunset plot, too, but nicha was dead set on your meeting all the girls and finally unlocking the backstory to half of the inside jokes that would have nicha giggling at 2 am, you or yuta throwing a pillow at her for waking you up right when you were about to drift off to a land of dreaming). you sang more than a couple songs and forced both your roommates to join you, and you even had the unique displeasure of having nearly drowned attempting to chug a 2 liter container of Mountain Dew’s latest Crime Against Humanity (you had lost more than a few times already, and with every misfortune, the crowd demanded more cringe fail punishment than the last).

— when you had finally tasted your fill of artificially colored carbonation (both slightly ✨enhanced✨ and otherwise), you decided to try your luck at vip room 2 before heading out for the evening. yuta had told you he was headed over there to hang with johnny suh and a couple others (sue you for not knowing all of yuta’s friends. you swore his friend group grew by the day, always with some new member, like a little cult or something), and you wanted to check up on at least all of your roommates before leaving for the night.

— now, when yuta invited you (and nicha… and all of nicha’s friends, by extension) to norebang night, he had kept it light and said a vague "everyone" was welcome — that everyone would be a friend of a friend, and so it would not be weird at all for anyone to be invited. not weird at all; not strange, in the slightest.

and yet, it still felt very strange, indeed, to see seungcheol in vip room 1.

you walked into the disco ball filtered, purple and blue lit room, and in 0.2 seconds flat spot him: s.coups.

you pointed at him and he followed suit, and for a minute you were that spiderman meme, an HD 4k .jpeg of mutual “???”

— so of course you decided to stay at the norebang for just a little bit longer.

— and quite naturally, your first instinct would be to throw the (stupidly handsome) cheollie off of his rhythm by hitting him with a classic, “who invited you???” as you sat down next to him (perhaps slightly closer than necessary, but hey, you could blame it on needing to hear him over the din of the 8-part harmony — surprisingly decent — of the cheesy ballad playing).

— and that is how your innocence died, wailing.

“the WHAT????”

and bless seungcheol’s soul for laughing through it, because having to reiterate to the uninitiated that this get together was funded and planned by the Big Tiddie Committee would be enough to kill anyone — fully dedicated to the bit, or otherwise.

“and you were extended a personal invitation?”

“mingyu is the secretary.”

“he’s the what”

which of course, would only summon the man himself, mingyu bounding over to the both of you asking brightly, “who brought you here?”

“not the secretary of the Big Tiddie Committee, the fuck…”

— and so the night dragged a little longer, seungcheol convincing you to do a song with him, you confronting yuta about his belongingness to the B.T.C. framework (he wasn’t a member, something that he laughed about you being so sure of, but johnny suh was), and mingyu bribing you with the promise of A Premium Secret when he found out that you were an ace at claw machines. you won him the puppy plushie, ofc, but when you asked for your payment, he suddenly got all cagey and said he’d tell you soon enough; right as you were about to say it wouldn’t possibly be good enough repayment, cheol said he could more than pay you back in gyu’s place, with an endless supply of stories for the journey back to your dorm.

suspicious, but you took it. might as well have mingyu in your debt for later, and hey — cheol was offering embarrassing stories about him and his brothers. a win-win, truly.

— so that’s how you set off, saying your goodbyes to both your roommates and taking a bus, then a campus shuttle, and finally walking the last leg of your journey to phantom studios, cheol’s arm slung over your shoulder the whole way.

— it was when you were both getting tired, the weight of the evening pushing conversation to gentle ellipses, that you walked past a line of vending machines. you pulled cheol to a stop and fished in your pockets for coins, but when you came up dry (probably all used at the claw machine), cheol passed you a bill instead.

— the sound of the vending machine was louder than it usually was in the relative still calm of night, and the bright neon lights of the buttons made for starry reflections in your eyes as seungcheol watched you key in your selections, your fingers drumming on the metal as they dispensed your goods. you had told him all about your unfortunate encounter with mountain dew infinite swirl (2 liter, decidedly unchilled) and he was surprised you’d grown into such a soda junkie that you were back for another carbonated delight so soon, but then you pushed the can into his hands and popped it, and he saw what you’d bought.

a cherry coke.

— “repayment for walking me home.”

— and he laughed a bit before tipping the can back, downing the drink in one go. his adam’s apple bobbed, he gave you a wink, and cheol could have sworn he saw something he wasn’t quite expecting flit across your face before you turned back to the vending machine, fishing out your second purchase while cheol finished the can.

it was a chocopie, of course, and you split the treat down the middle as you finished your slow, meandering walk to your final destination.

cheol had rested his arm over your shoulder, again, and spoke in a softer, low sort of voice that had you leaning in moreso than before, and on occasion, you swore you could hear the beat of his heart: bump, bump, bump — faster than you thought it should have been.

— “so, should i expect to see you at the next Big Tiddie Committee party I get invited to?”

the name was so bad it had you cringing. how unserious could they be?

— “if mingyu invites me i’ll let you know.”

— and your logic faltered for a second, and your mouth started talking before your brain could catch up with what it was saying, and in half-horror, you heard yourself say: “you mean you’re not a member?”

— and sure, it wasn’t the most damning thing ever, but your surprise and cheollie’s clear laughter made it clear that you both knew the shock in your voice came from the fact that in the short time you’d made it back into seungcheol’s company, you appraised him as having big enough pecs to be in a group dedicated to big tiddies.

— “well if you’d come swimming with hannie and i last week i’d know if you at least belonged.” you were pouting.

cheol was smitten.

— “i’ll take off my shirt the next time i walk you back to your dorm, (n/n).”

— and you went to scoff, but it sort of caught in your throat and became a sort of choking surprise that left cheol feeling rather good about himself. clever and smug. chat, does it always feel this good to flirt with your longtime crush?

— you recovered with a strained “alright then” and a rushed goodnight, and as cheol watched you rush inside phantom studios, half of your choco pie still in his hand and something warm in the night air, he figured that maybe he could have quite a lot of fun with this, indeed.

and thus ended Night at the Norebang™.

CUPID IS SO DUMB (CONT.) ☄. *. ⋆

— at this turning point, I think it absolutely vital that we understand two things.

first and foremost, that choi seungcheol has always been a fool in love.

secondly, and most newly developed in our tale, choi seungcheol is a flirty fool in love.

— what gave him the confidence to wint at you, his crush? to bite his lip with one perfectly arched brow raised? the adrenaline rush? the knowledge that it flustered you as badly as your entire being set off a surge of giddiness in him?

cheol wasn’t quite sure himself. all he knew was that all the nervous energy building up in him would come out somehow — in nervous acts or in controlled, thrilling flirtations. he quickly assessed that the latter was more favorable.

you were just so cute to catch off guard, after all.

— and so rather quickly, seungcheol became a menace to you, specifically.

the flirty looks were his go-to for Specific Acts of Menace™, of course.

but he also found that an increased expression of one of his most innate traits seemed to work wonders as well.

that trait being, of course, his protectiveness.

— never was there a fucker more protective than choi seungcheol.

— even in the little things! man was erring on the side of comedy and everyone around him enabled it.

— consider, if you will, the fact that after that one (1) time kwannie convinced you and cheol to go to a baseball game with him and you got lost in the stadium after going back to the car real quick to grab a portable phone charger, cheol had you share your phone location with him and always had you screenshot your percentage before heading to classes.

— or that time you were volunteering to help the dance in culture club set up for their performance showcase, and the longer you worked in the heat of the day, the more cheol fret until he somehow found one of those behemoth 128 oz. water bottles and insisted you drain it all to stay hydrated — a comical request, but one he took with solemn earnestness, the same.

— bringing you meals, picking you up when it began to rain, always being your designated driver or having him in your emergency contacts, sometimes even randomly sending you money for “vitamins” or “stacking your fridge with something nutritious” when you both knew that the funds would be spent on something superfluous that you’d send a picture of to cheol with some stupid caption… cheol would be consistently generous and randomly staunch about certain things that would make you giddy bordering on embarrassed, and cheol would have that self-satisfying grin on his face — proud of his good work.

— things were in a good spot. cheol was enjoying the occasional (frequent) flustering of you, you were finding great pleasure in settling back into a life you’d forgotten you so dearly missed, and summer semester was cooling into fall with a gentle sort of settling that made for long, satisfying sighs.

— of course, there was always finals to worry about (and worry you did) but with yuta to walk with you to the library to study (quizzing you on your way there, ofc) and nicha to cajole you into setting down the books for a much needed self care night, you made it through.

— a good thing to have them for the better part of it, too. they were busy people (almost chronically so, one might say) but they were there.

— see, cheol had called you one night when you were drowning, and when you hadn’t picked up 3 of his calls and dozens more of his messages, he made his way to your dorm and demanded the two of you go on a walk.

past phantom studios, past the vending machines, walking still beyond the stop you always sat at for the campus shuttles, and further to the union building where you met all too often after classes, to catch cheol while he was starting or finishing a tour, ruffling his hair with an unsurprising “boo.”

— you didn’t talk about finals or why you hadn’t picked up his calls, or anything heavy, at first. cheol just told you stories about life, or that time when he had brought kkuma to campus and it took the darling princess all but 10 minutes to get so dirty her coat could barely be considered white. she’d been a good sport, though, and stuck by cheol’s side the whole time, even when there were all manner of enticing people and food on campus.

the stories reminded you of good times — better times — and that’s all it took for the reminiscing to start, and the comfort to flow, and you were infinitely glad that svtu had a daycare on campus and a swing set available to use, because there was something like easy breathing on that swing, with seungcheol next to you and your whole life swinging high.

— “thank you, cheollie,” you said at last, when the quiet that settled between you was warm enough to grasp. you’d slowed your swinging at that point, your feet solid on the ground, just rocking from heel to toe to sway. your gaze was set to the rubber surfacing on the ground — suddenly humility pulling you gently downward.

and then you felt his lips on your skin.

— your forehead.

so soft.

— he’d kissed your forehead.

— it shouldn’t have been so surprising but it was.

— choi seungcheol kissing your forehead, gently, in acceptance of your gratitude. with a smile that overrode that nervous giggling that always captured him, betraying the purest of fondness, when you looked up at him, still so close you could just about reach out with either hand and kiss him proper. how soft would his lips feel, then, when they met yours?

“you used to kiss my scrapes and bruises all the time when we were younger,” you were soft to recall.

and he said something sweet, then, in warm response. a cool wind blew and it tempered the heat in your chest, and you consigned the rest of that moment to fond secrecy.

— but !!!!!!!!!!!!

— you survived your first semester at svtu! how was it? harder than you expected? surprisingly comfortable? well, just you wait, because in this institution of education there was always more to be had. of it all.

and this semester, you had some Very Unforgiving Professors, indeed.

— but haha… at least now you were used to campus and all of it’s charming idiosyncrasies. at the very least, this semester there was no chance of yuqi finding you in the hallway of phantom studios at 2am, begging with a door and keycard, on the verge of sleep-deprived tears to just let you in, damnit; you had been up to hour ungodly finishing a program assignment and had a morning class,,, you just wanted to SLEEP… yes, that would be a memory you’d never have to relive, moving forward… mostly because you’d gotten so good at memorizing your dorm room number you’d never get it mixed up with her neighboring dorm ever again, of course, but also consider the fact that this semester, you had an intimate knowledge of svtu’s very soul. you could save yourself so much humbling embarrassment this time around, and that’s the true win.

harsher professors for a more hardened academic warrior.

a learning curve ♡

— you’d also learned the hours when you were best able to get a seat in the library to study. a godsend, to be sure.

not that it saved you from distraction, of course, but you were very good at ignoring those.

… so long as they weren’t in the form of one (1) choi seungcheol.

— you were diligently working on an assignment one unassuming thursday afternoon when cheollie found you.

you knew the moment he approached that there would be absolutely zero productivity to follow, but you smiled the same.

— he looked over your shoulder uninterestedly to see what you were working on, and when he seemingly deemed the activity to be quite under-stimulating, indeed, cheol began his convincing you to abandon the work for something he oh-so-vaguely "wanted to show you."

he’d help you with your work later, too, he promised.

you pretended as though his generosity was what swayed you and not his infuriating persuasive grin, somewhat lopsided as he balanced a sucker in his mouth, drawing unreasonable attention to his lips (of which you’d certainly been having Very Normal Thoughts Over™, thank you very much. Nothing Amiss Here, why would you ask?).

— you must have been staring because cheol’s lips moved: half puckered, gently pursed (revelation? surprise?) and it was only half a second later that he’d fished another sucker out of his pocket and held it out to you.

a cherry sucker, off-brand, the svtu college of business emblem gaudily stamped on the wrapper.

cheol had a plethora of them after helping orient new business majors for the beginning of the semester, he shared with a laugh. they were notoriously bland, and who had even decided that suckers of all things would be the welcome treat to invest in? see, the college of medicine leaning into handing out suckers would make sense — doctor’s office protocol and all — but the college of business? when the product was of questionable quality to begin with? it probably explained the reason why he still had so many, all these weeks later.

— you took a sucker from him, if only for the compulsion to take something offered when he was standing there before you, hand outstretched.

it really was a subpar sucker.

“bland! i told them we should have bought pens instead.”

“still, it’s fitting that they’re cherry.”

and cheollie hummed in agreement, mouth pursed around the lollipop, lips staining red around the edges. not that such a thing was significant, of course.

“so what is it you want to show me?”

— and cheol promised you that wherever you were headed, you’d love it.

and hey, as soon as you guys got in the car, cheol routed to the nearest place to get you both a silly little drink, and he handed you the aux, so could you truly complain?

— a few intensely rapped k-pop hits later, the two of you were parked outside the cluster of fine arts buildings on campus.

(parallel parked, of course. cheol would always take any and all opportunities to flex his superior parking skills.)

— cheol pulled you into the sculpture building, and it wasn’t long before you were marveling at his work in the gallery room (it was a sculpt of kkuma!!!! with her darling cherry hair pin!!!!) while cheol put on an apron. he grabbed another for you, and after tying it around you properly (smiling bashfully against all your praise, of course), steered you to the room at the end of the hall, a handmade sign over the doorway reading “ (✿˵◕‿◕˵) visitors welcome! V●ᴥ●V ”

it was a pottery studio.

wheel throwing, to be specific.

— “ready to see how my pottery skills have improved?”

— you laughed brightly, and the warmth in the expression lingered in the air around you, revisiting your chests every once in a while, drawing deep rooted laughter and embarrassed giggles out of the both of you. your leftover skill in pottery didn’t quite transfer through the years, but cheol was there next to you to fix your creation from falling flat, should you ask.

“i told you to be careful, y/n!” “and you thought just telling me would work?”

— in the end, both of your creations — one beautifully formed mug and another lovingly approaching it’s aspired shape — turned out well enough. it would be time yet before they’d be fired and completed, but for now, you had incredibly dry hands and messy aprons to show for your labors.

true to his word, cheol helped you finish up your assignment afterward, the two of you grabbing lunch (on your card, you’d insisted) from the food trucks that always set up around the union building and claiming a shaded picnic table.

— the weather was perfect, your assignment was slowly becoming clear, and cheol was leaning over your shoulder, his face set in a concentrated pout as he attempted to decode the work set before you. his eyes shined, and the tree above you dappled cheol’s hair and set it to glow. “y’know, you’re going to completely screw my sense of the perfect date if you keep pulling shit like this.”

and he blinked for a half-second — stunned — before speaking. “your standards should be high. if i were really taking you out on a date, it would be better than this.”

“really?” and you leaned back against him, craning your neck to still look him in the eye. “what would we do?”

and cheol laughed.

“what?”

but for the longest time he couldn’t stop. no matter how you jokingly pushed him, demanding he tell you what was so funny.

“you’re asking me what we’d do if i took you on a date?!”

“you’re the one who brought it up!”

“yeah, well i didn’t expect you to bite,” cheol grumbled, turning awkwardly away, but you weren’t going to let him off that easily.

— you squirmed into your seat, adjusting until you were turned towards him properly, and reaching out, cupped his face with both hands until you turned his flushed face to look at you head on. he couldn’t help himself, he was shyly giggling. “well..?”

— “y/n, i’ve been planning and thinking about that since high school.”

— for a moment the air froze in your lungs. seungcheol — your seungcheol — was sat right across from you, all red faced embarrassment and laughing, brighter than anything.

— you kissed him on the cheek. “then out first date better be perfect.”

☄. *. ⋆

end of file .

SVT (sophrosyne; virtù; truth) University hopes you've enjoyed your stay !

#olive.writes #seventeen headcanons #seventeen imagine #seventeen x you #seventeen x reader #writing.svtu #svt x you #svt headcanons #svt imagine #svt x reader #seungcheol x reader #seungcheol imagines #seungcheol x you #choi seungcheol x reader #so sorry i had to scar you all with the inclusion of the big tiddie committee but also c'mon you know i had to do it #i also lamentably didn't include scoups at the boxing club but hey: we still have mingyu as a member. the idea can still be explored.#anyway go listen to hongjoong's cover of cupid. changed lives (mine)#cheol is giggly with his crush. you can pry that fact from my cold dead hands.

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rainswept · 1 year ago

Text

# THE MOON IS BEAUTIFUL, ISN’T IT?

— lyney, freminet, navia : 272, 213, 206 words respectively. these don’t really make much sense tbh.

# LYNEY : love. bouts of flattery overflowing from a mouth full of bleeding gums, bouquets of rainbow roses neatly tied together in a pretty silk bow; words slipped like cards between fingers past his teeth that are pleasing to the ear but do naught to soothe the ache beneath the skin. stiff movement, perfected performance, smile lines on a face that has seen nothing but tragedy; swooning, blushing, grinning; bright spotlights, pried open eyes blind to it all. cries for an encore are like a bandage over a profusely bleeding wound that just won’t stop, won’t quiet down. gods, he’s so tired of encores.

but he is not tired of performing. the desire to still swells beneath his skin like the blood that sustains him — it always has. but it is beginning to feel like a cut forcing that deep-seated thing to the surface instead of passion, forming a wound instead of flushed cheeks, painful and slow and agonizing as it bleeds him dry. but at least now it is familiar.

dreams that leave him in a haze, warmth settling in the pit of his belly instead of knives, bread as a peace offering, hands held tight in the face of peril, soft breaths entwined without a single kiss and gentle touches to gnawing wounds. moving away from a fireplace when it gets too hot only to return moments later when you forget the feeling of being singed; a garden overgrown with rainbow roses to the point where they almost look as if they began growing wild, unbridled and free and passionate and imperfect.

which is love to him? he doesn’t quite know.

# FREMINET : tears. he thinks his tears threaten to overflow the rushing sea, bleed into the waves until he dies in a water that cannot drown him. marks that linger as memories fade, reflections on the surface of the sun; the deteriorating seashells picked up from the shaking sand at the bottom of the ocean, forever moved by the presence of another. soft touches and fleeting wishes, dry lips with sobs seeping between the cracks like water, begging for a reprieve from the loneliness that strives to swallow him whole unlike like the sea he loves so dearly — a threat versus a plea, a soft embrace instead of a bruising hold. he doesn’t know which is which.

shaky hands held beneath a star-filled sky, glistening teardrops so plentiful they mimic the galaxies and the sea alike. currents swelling beneath fingertips and seeping beneath skin as he sinks until he can no longer see. screaming, yelling, silence, cries and wails of anything but sorrow, knives to throats and blood spilling beneath a red moon to taint shallows that were never pristine in the first place. tender flesh, calloused fingers, sharp nails digging so deep into each other you could nearly get cut. you pray to the archons that the indents in your unwounded skin scar.

# NAVIA : comfort. a warm dessert melting on the tongue, meringues, saccharine and soft; a hazy memory doused in vanilla and egg whites. beds of flowers whistling in the wind, head leaned against the base of a tree, soft strands of golden hair twirled between fingers and tangling in the grass; forehead kisses, sunsets, lighthearted giggles turned to laughs so plentiful they make your chest ache.

navia wraps her fingers around yours like she never wants to let you go — it’s tender, loving, sweet, and oh so far away. the look in her eyes is distant, clouded, guilty; she gazes at the floor, the ceiling, the corner of your mouth. anywhere she can find and grasp onto but your eyes, or your lips, or your heart, or your soul — her eyes are like the moon over the water, you always told her, and the moon’s view of anything you truly want it to see has been hidden away by a fog rolling in on the horizon.

a doomed ship sails straight into the fog blanketing the sky like it wants to protect the moon to a fault. as you hold her hand tight, aware you’re watching it, there’s an innate sense it will not come back.

#⟢ rainswept ⊹#lyney x reader #freminet x reader #navia x reader #idk what this is goodnight

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daisyswift3 · 1 year ago

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I think Taylor often uses summer as a metaphor for coming out like daylight which makes sense since it’s a very sunny season and winter would then be the opposite of this. And it makes sense why folklore (spring/summer) and evermore (fall/winter) would directly follow lover if the failed coming out theories are correct. It was her way of processing these emotions.

I think this is what the transition from august to illicit affairs is supposed to represent. The vibrant sunset and rainbow colors (lover era) drain away and turn into gray (folklore era)—“you showed me colors you know I can’t see with anyone else.” The sunset visuals during august also indicate that summer and daylight are indeed the same thing metaphorically since the sun is going away as she sings “so much for summer love.” She was so close to claiming her sunshine, both the concept and person, but it slipped away from her 💔

I think it’s very poetic that there’s an alternative ending on folklore. Hoax is one possible ending, “my eclipsed sun…this has frozen my ground” and she could’ve stayed frozen in that winter but the lakes offers a bit of hope, “A red rose grew up out of ice frozen ground” which indicates spring and summer have returned 🌹☀️ Similarly in the song evermore she decides to go back inside her warm cabin instead of staying out in the cold which she said represents finding hope again (48:00 of this vid). And to tie it all together she chose a cardigan, her “wool to brave the seasons,” as the main motif of folklore since this person kept her warm during that perilous winter.

#taylor is such an incredible songwriter #there are so many layers to her music like how am i still finding easter eggs and connections #it never ceases to amaze me #taylor swift #taylorswift #gaylor #gaylor swift #lover #daylight #summer #folklore #evermore #parallels #kaylor #eras tour #closeting #cardigan

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skyloftian-nutcase · 8 months ago

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I'll throw this one from your ask game at you, for whenever you feel like it :]

V: Are there certain comments you’ve received on your stories that have stuck with you?

I adore when people tell me what stuck out to them, or they rephrase something that happened that they really enjoy. Breath of the Sky in particular has some gems that have made me laugh out loud, I can’t copy/paste screenshots so I’ll just transcribe it:

(By anonymity)

“Okay I just started reading this chapter but I need you to know how fucking hysterical it is watching the POV change from botw Zelda to ss zelda like

Botw Zelda: Oh my golden goddesses the goddess Hylia herself is right next to me this is her the original Zelda the goddess Hylia has she seen my failure does she know how hard I’ve been working oh gods what do I say to her she’s a deity of legend the first of the royal line what do I do what do I do—

SS Zelda, concentrating as hard as physically possible: Do NOT fall off this fucking horse. DO NOT fall off this fucking horse”

It makes me wheeze every time XD XD XD

#you ask skye answers #lovely sunset peril #Ask game

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mothpawbs · 2 years ago

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more royal dragons, this time the ones from arc 2/3! these were really fun, and the previous designs helped me get comfortable with more detailed jewelry designs, so these are a bit more extravagant.

design notes under the cut!

RUBY: i didn't realize how young she really is when i read escaping peril the first time, i thought she was in her mid-twenties at least but apparently she's only 12/17? wild. anyways i made her ruby red with some orange accents to point to tourmaline. her tiara is meant to look like laurels, studded with rubies, and the gems on her brows and wings are citrine.

GLORY: i already had a design for her, i just touched it up a bit here. she's very pretty, but her scales are notably duller than my other rainwing designs. she has pouches she wears around her neck because she likes to be prepared and is trying to connect more to her culture. at least one of those pockets has snacks for silver. the flower on her ear is a plumeria india, one of my favorite flowers.

THORN: easily my favorite design in the set, oh my god i love how she came out. she has the same colors as my sunny design but desaturated, and almost the same markings. her jewelry is mostly gold with onyx and lapis lazuli insets. the design for the eye of onyx is inspired by @dragonsndoodles's design, which looks absolutely gorgeous and way more elegant than the graphic novel version.

SNOWFALL: i think i made her too round and soft-looking? idk i think she's cute though. i definitely had to get those pale sunset colors in there, and she has similar colors/markings to glacier. the tiara is one she found in the treasury after the racism crown™ was destroyed, and the shawl was a gift from luna as a thanks for helping her tribe. silk doesn't help much against the cold, but it sure is pretty.

WASP: SCARY BITCH. i had to mess with her colors a lot, i wanted to make her kinda greenish with red accents but it just was NOT working. i do like where i ended up though. i don't know that she would wear much jewelry, probably more armor than anything else, but i wanted to do hivewing jewelry so here we are. the neck piece was really fun to design. these are steel and gold with amber and peridot accents, and the cape is silk with gold embroidery. i have this headcanon of her having breath of evil growing out of her like a cordyceps fungus, and she uses the cape to cover the tendrils on her back.

SEQUOIA: ooo she was a challenge, i'm not great at designs with a lot of green or a lot of dark colors so she was fun. her colors are inspired by @daily-wof-designs, and the brown tones were pulled from pictures of giant sequoias. she wears braided leather straps hung with aquamarine, and the scarf might be silk? or some kind of natural fiber? i'm not sure. but it has leaf designs and is probably batik dyed (which is super cool btw look it up)

#digital art #mag art #wof #wings of fire #queen ruby #queen glory #queen thorn #queen snowfall #queen wasp #queen sequoia #skywing #rainwing #sandwing #icewing #hivewing #leafwing #royalty #character design

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koalatysleep · 11 months ago

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Kuwameshi: the 'undercover' love story in Yu Yu Hakusho

This Christmas season, I binged watched the entire Yu Yu Hakusho anime series on Netflix (I was hit with a strong yearning for more content after binge watching the live action), and Kuwameshi became my OTP even though I started off shipping Yusuke with Keiko.

I must say the anime is a remarkably progressive work of art given that it was created as a Shonen manga in the 90's. I love love love love the entire series!! Right off the bat, the series subverts gender tropes, heteronormative romance stereotypes, and the sleeping beauty fairytale with Yusuke in the position of sleeping beauty, Keiko in the role of Prince Charming who literally brings him back to life with a kiss, and Kuwabara as the real love interest and knight in shining armor who continually saves and inspires Yusuke throughout the series.

Instead of a sleeping beauty that passively waits to be saved, Yusuke is actively making choices that ultimately helps to save himself, by first deciding to return to life, then by taking on the emotional work of helping Kuwabara study for the test, and saving Keiko by sacrificing his spirit realm egg and his chance to return to life.

The fact that Keiko was saving Yusuke, while Yusuke was saving both Keiko (from the fire) and Kuwabara (from the evil machinations of that despicable teacher), and Kuwabara was also saving Keiko (from thugs and then the fire) and Yusuke (by being one of the reasons Yusuke was moved to choose life over death and then from the fire) was an extremely refreshing change from the stereotypical heteronormative romance where the male character is doing all the saving, while the female love interest is just a passive character without much agency or ability to contribute, and no other character seems to have much of an impact on the romantic pair. Here we have 3 fiercely independent characters who are all actively helping themselves while saving each other in a holy trifecta of character development goodness.

When Yusuke's body was in danger in the burning house, I love the scene where Keiko shook off the bystanders holding her back with a fierce determination that we come to associate with Yusuke in life-or-death fights, sprang into quick-thinking action by dumping a bucket of water over herself, and ran headlong into the fire and mortal peril, all to save Yusuke.

Yusuke and Keiko would have been my ride or die OTP if the series had continued developing her character and the story along these lines, but even during this arc of reviving Yusuke where the main focus was on Yusuke and Keiko as a romantic pair, the seeds for Kuwabara as Yusuke's 'undercover' love interest are already being planted.

In fact, Togashi's authorial intent for Yusuke and Kuwabara as the central love story in the entire YYH series can be seen in their name designs itself!

Yusuke is written in 2 characters - the 1st character means Spirit/Soul, and the 2nd character means Assistance/Help.

Kazuma means True Harmony. So put together, Yusuke and Kazuma means Souls in True Harmony who help each other. And isn't that the very essence of our heroes right there? ❤️🌈

It's only after Yusuke possesses Kuwabara's body in Episode 2 that he got the help he needed to clearly communicate to Keiko to save his body from cremation. When you watch the episode, Yusuke and Kuwabara literally spoke with their 2 voices overlapping as one in multiple scenes! It's especially obvious in the sunset scene when they finally get to tell Keiko to save Yusuke. Yusuke and Kuwabara are literally Two Souls in One Body!

This symbolizes how Kuwabara truly desires for Yusuke to return to life, as much as Yusuke himself, and foreshadows how Kuwabara goes on to stand with Yusuke as One Soul in Two Bodies throughout the rest of the series. I haven't even meta-screamed about the homoerotic subtext of Yusuke possessing Kuwabara's body! 🤣🤣🤣

We further see how Kuwabara is in True Harmony with Yusuke when Kuwa takes it upon himself to look out for Keiko on Yusuke's behalf when he thought Yusuke was permanently dead! Kuwa literally stepped in on spirit Yusuke's behalf to beat off the thugs bothering Keiko, and then puts his own life at risk to save Keiko from the house fire!

No one asked or expected Kuwa to do this, he looks out for Keiko simply because he knows how important Keiko was to Yusuke, and taking care of the people Yusuke loved is how Kuwa keeps a piece of Yusuke alive! Like, it boggles my mind how deeply Kuwa loves & values Yusuke to the extent that people important to Yusuke is by default important to Kuwa even after Yusuke's death! 🥹🥹🥹 If this isn't True Love (True Harmony), what is? Like, I know real-life married couples who do less for each other! I've meta-ed screamed a bit more about how truly, madly, deeply Kuwa is in love with Yusuke even before canon began, link to that other meta is at the end of this one!

And then of course we have the all-important Episode 3 where Botan literally tells us Yusuke and Kuwabara are so emotionally in sync (True Harmony) with each other that Kuwabara can sense Yusuke's feelings even though Yusuke is a spirit! Their connection even this early on literally transcends the boundaries between life and death! And it's only when spirit Yusuke started following Kuwabara around that Yusuke grew as a person, by learning about Okubo's family situation and deciding to help. This is a large reason why Puu's egg absorbed good energy to develop into lovable goofy Puu!

Yusuke is so moved by Kuwabara's honorable character and determination to help Okubo, that we see Yusuke doing the stereotypically 'female' emotional work of helping Kuwabara study for the test even though Yusuke himself hates studying. It's actually such a huge thing that Yusuke not only does this on his own free will without anyone nagging him into it, he actually looks like he's enjoying helping Kuwabara study! Yusuke has such massive character growth just by helping Kuwa! Look at how happy Yusuke looks! I just love how Kuwa is such a positive influence on Yusuke, because Kuwa inspires and emotionally resonates with Yusuke so deeply! Compare this to how Keiko wasn't able to get Yusuke to study despite all her nagging (which actually inadvertently makes Yusuke feel worse about himself, link to another meta post about this at the end of this one), and you see how Kuwa is Yusuke's True Love Interest who's in True Harmony with Yusuke!

And of coz, Their entire study dream-date is so romantic!! The way Yusuke's hand lingers on Kuwabara's shoulder when he first finds Kuwabara asleep over his desk, and the way this shot (Yusuke's gaze) lingers on Kuwabara's bruised and exhausted face clue us into Yusuke's burgeoning romantic feelings for Kuwabara!

The romantic coding of this scene is further confirmed through the soft lighting, the tender background music, Kuwabara's romantic candy colored galaxy in his dreamscape, and how soft and tender Yusuke's voice is when he whispers to Kuwabara back in Kuwa's bedroom. When morning dawns, the romantic background music segues into a scene of two lovebirds on a branch accompanied by birdsong, and this becomes our visual & audio analogy for Kuwameshi romance later throughout the series!

I personally think it's not a coincidence that Yusuke was carrying Puu's egg on him when he possessed Kuwabara's body and when he followed Kuwabara around as a spirit, and that the egg developed into a bird creature Puu who later becomes a majestic phoenix, but you'll have to read my fic The Good Fight to see what I mean! 😜

Then we get the laugh-out-loud hilarity of Yusuke possessing the body of the knocked-out-girl to beat off the thugs who were about to waylay Kuwabara on his way to the test 🤣🤣🤣! i roll on the floor with laughter every time! Apart from the sheer comedic genius, we also see that Yusuke did not hesitate to literally 'become' a girl to help Kuwabara! We see how emotionally invested Yusuke is in Kuwabara's success, because Yusuke is moved by Kuwabara's heart and grit!

I mean honestly this whole episode of Yusuke doing the 'female emotional work' of supporting Kuwabara is really amazing. I would have loved more episodes like this throughout the series where we get to see more of Yusuke developing his emotional muscle without any life-or-death fights!

Immediately after the revival arc is done, the story goes on to subvert heteronormative expectations even further - one of the first things Yusuke does after coming back to life is to save Kuwabara's cat in a really really sweet gesture. Yusuke punching the lights out of the thug holding the cat hostage, and then turning around in slow motion to reveal his identity is a typical hero's entrance when they save their love interest. The way that Yusuke cradles Kuwabara's cat with such gentleness and care while kicking the living shit out of the thug who had grabbed Kuwabara around the waist, and then returning the cat to Kuwabara in the midst of fighting is seriously swoon worthy !

I mean, if Yusuke had done this for a female character or even a 'good-looking' male character, it would have been universally interpreted as a clear romantic narrative, but because Kuwabara is not female and also not conventionally 'good looking', this flies under the radar, which is how the story can clearly depict Kuwabara as Yusuke's romantic love interest from here on out without anyone being the wiser.

I mean!! Throughout the rest of the series, Kuwa-chan literally spurs Yusuke on to greater heights than Yusuke would have attained himself, because Yusuke cares so deeply about what Kuwabara thinks about him, and living up to Kuwabara's faith in him! This is Yusuke we're talking about, he doesn't give a shit what others think if he doesn't respect them, so the fact that he wants Kuwabara to think highly of him speaks volumes about how highly he admires, values and respects Kuwabara in return!

During Genkai's succession arc, our heroes were literally on an Arcade Date!! Look at our boys putting their best selves forward to impress each other! 🤩😆 The way they're drawn so beautifully in such heroic frames tells us just how much they want to impress each other! If this isn't courting behavior, what is?

Look at how impressed Yusuke is at Kuwabara's high score in the punching game, and how he pretends otherwise! 😆

OMG they way they totally ignored all the onlookers as they gleefully try to outdo each other and show off for each other is SO CUTE!!!!!

I personally think Yusuke was in such a bad mood with the bat demon coz Yusuke was in a hurry to get back to Kuwabara! When he finally made it there and explained what took so long, his eyes were on Kuwabara the entire time!!! And look at how Yusuke is peacocking in front of Kuwabara when he explains how he's faster than the bat demon! 🤣

It's also because Kuwabara asked Genkai to wait that Yusuke was selected despite exceeding the time. Kuwa had zero doubt that Yusuke would make it! His belief in Yusuke is absolute! The scene where the boys forgot themselves and hugged each other in their excitement is chef's kiss! Look at Yusuke throwing himself bodily at Kuwabara! OMG I just love how Kuwabara makes Yusuke forget all about pretending not to care or appearing aloof (which is part of Yusuke's emotional armor) and brings out Yusuke's True Self!

Yusuke had so much fun with Kuwabara, he literally forgot all about his mission to find Rando, to the extent that even Koenma remarked on this! 🤣

Seriously the anime puts so much effort into the little details like these unconscious body language tells and non-verbal cues, it's really amazing!!! When Yusuke later tried to get Kuwabara to retire the fight against Rando to protect Kuwabara, Yusuke (who was still shocky from his fights) literally pulled Kuwabara close with a hand on Kuwabara's chest and another nearly on Kuwabara's neck! These are not platonic personal space boundaries, it's Yusuke's unconscious body language cluing us into his romantic feelings for Kuwabara! Look at how close Yusuke is to Kuwabara!

During the fight with Rando, it's also because Yusuke was so emotionally impacted by Kuwabara's serious injuries that Yusuke was able to tap into a new level of power! I was honestly surprised by this when I first watched the anime before I clued into the Kuwameshi subtext, given how cool and collected Yusuke was when Hiei almost turned Keiko into a demon!

And the unconscious Kuwabara was still cheering Yusuke on! When Yusuke was on the verge of being eaten alive by the demonic fish, Kuwabara's spirit even left his body to go save Yusuke, and Kuwabara knew just the right words to say to Yusuke to spur him on! Souls in True Harmony who help each other!

Cheering on the male character in spirit is literally what female love interests do in anime, and it's usually a one-sided depiction of the female shouting the male character's name in a paroxysm of emotion without the male character actually hearing or interacting with her, so this trope is again nicely subverted here coz Kuwabara is literally a spirit who can have two-way dialogue with Yusuke, and he's obviously a badass himself, which is why he can reach Yusuke as a spirit to begin with. Genkai approves!

As the series progress, we see more of Yusuke and Kuwabara's body language cluing us into their romantic feelings for each other. During their chocolate shake date, they were mirror images of each other when Keiko crashed their conversation and Yusuke covers up what they're really talking about with the movie excuse. When Yusuke was making his excuses to run out on Keiko, he again places his hand on Kuwabara's chest when he asks Kuwabara to come with him, then Yusuke pulls him along by the wrist 😍😍❤️❤️.

You can see in all these interactions that Kuwabara's attention is on Yusuke almost all the time, especially when Botan's explaining the 4 saints beast situation to them! Kuwa literally did not take his eyes off Yusuke even though Botan's the one speaking! This is despite Kuwabara supposedly having a 'crush' on Botan, but we will have to leave the explanation for this for another meta! ;P

I digress! To me, Yusuke running out on Keiko with Kuwabara and forgetting he left Keiko at the movie theatre clearly signals authorial intent to focus on Kuwabara and Yusuke's relationship, rather than Keiko and Yusuke's. At the end of the 4 saint beasts arc when Yusuke exhausted his lifeforce to defeat Suzaku, it was Kuwabara who brought Yusuke back to life by transferring his remaining life-force to Yusuke despite knowing this is akin to suicide, similar to how Keiko saved Yusuke from the fire despite mortal peril to herself at the start of the series. This time, Yusuke wakes up in Kuwabara's bed after Kuwabara has taken care of Yusuke for 3 days, to the sound of birdsong!!!! And from here on out, Keiko is relegated to a side character without further character development of her own or much contribution to Yusuke's personal growth.

When Toguro wanted to devastate Yusuke into unlocking his true power by killing someone Yusuke loves, he chose Kuwabara above all others, even though Keiko was in the audience. It's very telling that Toguro tried to kill Yusuke's metaphorical heart by ripping out Kuwabara's actual heart!! Kuwabara is Yusuke's heart! The subtext is main text!

Kuwabara chose to meet his death courageously even though he knew he had no chance of surviving, showing Yusuke once again the difference between true strength vs just power. The intensity of Yusuke's resulting grief and utter devastation at Kuwabara's death changed the very essence of Yusuke's reiki. The intensity of Yusuke's emotions is the reason why Yusuke rejected Toguro's "power above all else" motto, it's the reason why Yusuke understood the difference between true strength vs just power.

Some things can only be learnt through experience, and Genkai knew this was a hard lesson Yusuke needed to experience for himself before he could learn the difference. (She also knew Toguro still had some shreds of goodness deep down and wouldn't kill Kuwabara straight out).

Yusuke himself said he used to secretly admire and aspire to Toguro's power even as he was scared shitless, before Yusuke's eyes were opened to the immeasurable worth and value of love and friendship, the things that Toguro gave up in his blind pursuit of power. Yusuke lost his fear of Toguro after that, he stopped admiring Toguro after that, he pitied Toguro instead. Yusuke was able to gain this emotional maturity through the grief & devastation of losing Kuwabara. And because of that, he was able to defeat Toguro. Talk about the Power of Love! Kuwabara really is the Warrior of Love! Even when he's not physically fighting, he inspires Yusuke to new levels of both emotional maturity and physical strength through Love.

I mean honestly, at this point in the story, Kuwabara had clearly taken center stage as the love interest for Yusuke, one who actively plays a role in Yusuke's personal growth and emotional motivation, one who is strong enough that Yusuke can be honest about his spirit realm duties and his full self with.

It's a bit of a shame that the story didn't develop Keiko into a more interesting kickass female character like Botan, who's independent and capable of taking care of herself, and whose contributions to the story is not just restricted to that of a romantic love interest. It would have been nice to see Keiko realizing that she and Yusuke are better suited to be found family and lifelong friends rather than romantic partners. It's a pity especially since Keiko got off to such a strong start by saving Yusuke so courageously from the fire. After this point however, the story relegated Keiko to the stereotypical female 'love interest' who's just passively waiting on the sidelines for Yusuke to return.

But given that Yukina is also a similar stereotypical female 'love interest' for Kuwabara, one who's written out of the narrative almost as soon as she's introduced, and thus I also don't find Kuwabara and Yukina convincing as a romantic couple, I wonder whether the author deliberately chose to under-develop Keiko and Yukina's characters and to protray them as rather helpless, one-note and bland, in order to highlight the real love story he's trying to tell between Yusuke and Kuwabara. (Togashi even said in a Q+A that his least favorite character is Keiko, coz she's a typical manga character.)

If I were trying to tell a non-heteronormative love story aimed at teens in conservative 90's Japan, hiding Kuwabara and Yusuke's love story in plain sight, under the cover of them both having female 'love interests' is probably one of the ways to do it while still getting published in Shonen Jump.

It's clearly contrasting Kuwabara and Yusuke's extremely compelling romantic subtext with the very bland and unconvincing heteronormative pairings. It leaves it up to the audience to notice for themselves which pairings they find more compelling to root for, and perhaps in so doing, the story subverts a conservative audience into unknowingly supporting a non-heteronormative couple of Yusuke and Kuwabara 🤣

Togashi also said in his letter to fans that he ended the manga for three reasons, one of which is that he has exhausted the character directions he can explore within the publication bounds of Shonen Jump.

I wonder whether a sexual romantic relationship between Yusuke and Kuwabara (the sex is hinted at in this bonus canon content) is one of the directions Togashi couldn't explore within the publication bounds of Shonen Jump 🤣. (But that's okay Togashi, thank you so much for giving us the rich Kuwameshi subtext in canon, we'll take it from here to explore these directions for you 🤣🤣).

When I first read part of the manga casually as a kid, all the subtext flew right over my head of coz, but now when I watch it as an adult who understands just how much queer love stories were not allowed any expressions in the 90's, I really love Kuwabara and Yusuke as each other's true love interest.

The development of their relationship can also be read as a natural progression of their characters growing closer together than Yusuke and Keiko can, due to Yusuke having to keep Keiko in the dark about spirit realm activities to protect her from it, and Keiko just being so different from Yusuke that she inadvertently makes Yusuke feel worse about himself. This is apparent in Episode 1 itself, when Keiko inadvertently triggers Yusuke's self-worth issues when she berated Yusuke quite thoroughly to apply himself to school - she immediately assumed he must have done something wrong for Takenaka-sensei to be looking for him (when actually Takenaka just wanted to proactively counsel Yusuke!) and she outright says if he doesn't go soon he'll drag her down and she'll get a scolding as the class monitor as well. This is when Yusuke flips her skirt, not because he is romantically interested in her or is pervy, but because he just wants to stop her words which were quite hurtful for him coz it confirms all his worst fears about himself!

Keiko also can't understand why Yusuke enjoys challenging good fights, whereas Kuwabara can and in fact enjoys those fights himself. So perhaps Keiko and Yusuke drifting apart as a romantic pairing once the revival arc is done is also a natural state of things.

In any case, by the time the dark tournament is over in episode 67, it's Kuwabara that Yusuke seeks out for an early lunch at school, it's Kuwabara who Yusuke riles up by poking him in the ass 🤣🤣, similar to how Yusuke used to flip Keiko's skirt, except Yusuke's jabbing Kuwabara in the ass when he's in a good mood and wants an excuse to be close to Kuwabara! I haven't even screamed about the HILARIOUS homoerotic subtext of Yusuke jabbing Kuwabara in the ass just as Kuwabara's thinking about becoming "a real man" for Yukina! 🤣🤣🤣🤣

Look at our boys taking the opportunity to physically be as close as they secretly want to be with each other, under the guise of rough-housing and bickering! Yusuke's full-on hugging Kuwabara in the second frame, and he's got his leg over Kuwabara's shoulder in the third!! 😍😍❤️❤️Once again they totally ignore their audience and focus just on each other, to the extent they didn't even realize the class bell had run and Takenaka-sensei and the entire class is looking at them! 🤣

This scene of Yusuke seeking out Kuwabara for lunch in a good mood and needling him for food is SO CUTE and so sweet! Coz it's Yusuke's way of asking for Kuwabara's attention. It's Yusuke's way of saying he wants to spend time with Kuwabara, he wants Kuwabara to be the one to take care of him (by feeding him), and when Kuwabara reacts with outrage instead (coz he is still in denial about his feelings for Yusuke at this point), Yusuke immediately reacts with hurt defensiveness. Even so, they still have such a great time with each other! It's very relatable and very sweet! Haven't you ever just riled up your crush and teased them mercilessly coz you wanted the excuse to be close to them? I also love that Yusuke is actively seeking out Kuwabara to do normal mundane things like eat lunch together, he must have realized at some subconcious level that Kuwa-chan is his OTP!

We even get Kuwabara's friends and Botan wondering whether Kuwabara and Yusuke were a bickering married couple in a previous life, so the subtext is more or less already the main text by this point.

Then we see Kuwabara catching up with Yusuke after school and Yusuke sharing his feelings of ennui with Kuwabara, who brought Yusuke right out of it with ease 🤣🤣 it's these seemingly little things like Yusuke opening up about his feelings to Kuwabara, Kuwabara keeping Yusuke grounded, and Kuwabara talking about his loss of reiki with total ease with Yusuke and being worried that Yusuke was going through the same that shows the deep emotional connection and deep trust between these two.

Of course, then Yusuke gets abducted and we see Puu flying straight to Kuwabara for help, so again the story subverts the typical heteronormative romance by having both Kuwabara and Yusuke continually inspire, save and rely on each other as true equals in their partnership. No one is the wilting flower, no one is just passively waiting to be saved, and both are simultaneously both the protector and the protectee. Just as Genkai told Yusuke to never forget why he became strong and who he became strong for, they are truly the main reason why the other became so strong!

Speaking of abduction, the tables gets turned later on when Kuwabara is the one who gets abducted and Yusuke goes after Sensui on a bicycle(🤣🤣!) like a man possessed. I mean seriously, even before I clued into Kuwameshi, I thought Yusuke looks like a man who's singlemindedly saving the love of his life! And then of course, Kuwabara experiences the devastation of Yusuke's death, similar to how Yusuke experienced the devastation of Kuwabara's death during the dark tournament, and we get that precious glimpse into Kuwabara's feelings for Yusuke all along! It was never about winning Yusuke in fights, all his challenges were just an excuse to be with Yusuke! His heart gets so excited when he's with Yusuke! He was over the moon when Yusuke called him by name the first time! He did it all - Genkai's succession trials, Rando fight, Byakko fight, yukina rescue mission, Dark Tournament, facing down Toguro - all of it, for Yusuke!!!! Screams! Can it get more romantic than that?!? This not only reveals Kuwabara's heart, it also reveals authorial intent for the Kuwameshi love story from the beginning!

And then of course Kuwabara chooses to avenge Yusuke even if it means his own death and the destruction of the entire human realm! Kuwabara, the warrier for love, truth and justice, protector of the weak, literally chose to burn down the whole world to avenge Yusuke, and follow Yusuke into death! That's how much Yusuke means to Kuwabara! The entire world literally means nothing to Kuwabara if Yusuke isn't there! So for me, I fully believe Yusuke and Kuwabara are the real love story here!

If you love the delicious Kuwameshi subtext as much as me, come scream about it with me in my Kuwameshi meta series on AO3, and my Kuwameshi Alternate Canon Fic The Good Fight on AO3! Most chapters have End Notes with more meta about canon that inspired that chapter! There's just way too much meta to put all into one post here!

If you'd like to read more meta on when Kuwabara fell in love with Yusuke, here's one you may enjoy!

If you'd like to read meta on when Yusuke fell in love with Kuwabara, here's one!

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