#so i can write for both of them at the same time lol

[salem-s]

can you please write a rafe fic based on the song “back to friends”?

like they were exes turned to strangers but there’s sooo much tension and they’re obviously still sooo in love with each other. just angst vibes with maybe some suggestive fluff? idk

just a suggestion though totally understand if it’s too specific for you!

yes! when you sent this in i had no idea what song you were talking about LOL but now ive heard it and it’s so good. love this prompt!

BACK TO FRIENDS — RAFE CAMERON ONE SHOT (18+)

SYNOPSIS you and rafe have been broken up for months, and despite not seeing him since, you haven't stopped thinking about him. then, out of the blue, he's suddenly there at one of your parties: coy yet shy, a presence yet a ghost, looking at you as if he's never seen anything prettier. and all you can think is: what the fuck?

WARNINGS aaaannnngst (miscommunication tendencies is very high here, they’re both idiots), fluff, suggestive content and descriptions of smut. post-grad au, living in a city of your choice. ex!rafe is fun to write, but apologies because this isn't super edited.

WORD COUNT 8.1k.

SONG OF THE CHAPTER back to friends by sombr

You've been single for six months.

Has it been easy? Absolutely not. Was it necessary? That's a bit subjective depending on who answers on the matter, but - of course - most of the time you'd argue no. Your ex would argue yes in a self-depricating sort of way. Part of you knew it was coming to a close in those final weeks, taking into account the way you drifted apart as one of life's natural tendencies.

You were heading in one direction. He was heading in another. There are so many things that he probably thought that he never spoke, especially with the way he hinted towards not being good enough for you, not being good enough to follow you into the next stages of your life. You, of course, knew that wasn't true, that it was his mind sending him into a spiral, not his heart. It ruptured your soul when the last image of him was his back towards you, not even having the gall to face you as he said goodbye. You never thought you'd see him after that.

So why the fuck is Rafe Cameron standing in your living room right now?

He looks good. Too good. The long locks that you used to toy with between your nimble fingers are gone, replaced with a slightly grown out buzz that suits him, makes him look more mature and grounded. A simple t-shirt adorns his torso, snug tight at the seams around his biceps, looking a little bigger than you last saw. He's clean cut, sleek in a way that makes your heart pound, and a head taller than everyone around him, commanding the room without even meaning to.

But his eyes tell a different story.

When those pretty blues meet yours, you see what he really feels: an emptiness and search for something to fulfill his soul, radiating a sadness to them that emulates the look of despair he had the last time you were with him. No one notices. He hides it well. But you were always able to read him like a book, to be able to pin point his emotion like it was your day job, to know how to approach him through various emotions to get him to feel better.

You, apparently, still can.

It's absolutely debilitating when you lock eyes across the room, and you can't even describe the weird feeling that settles in your gut. Is it anxiety? Dread? Excitement? It's a kettlebell in your stomach that only weighs more and more the longer you look at him, the more you register that Rafe Cameron, your ex and probably the only person you'll ever love, is standing in your living room in a state you never thought he'd be in with people you never associated him with.

First you feel shock. Then confusion.

How the fuck is he here? Who does he know? Did he - somehow - stumble upon this party in a stroke of pure luck and humiliation (on your part) or is this intentional? Does he know this is your apartment? Did he recognize the same decor that you had in your old place? Smell your favorite candle? See the furniture and overall mood of the house and think of you? Did he even know? How could he have?

It isn't until (some) of your questions are being answered when you spot another friend of yours, Wyatt, clap Rafe on the shoulder and whisper something in his ear, nodding in your direction and tugging him towards—

Fuck.

Tugging him towards you.

You wish you could move. Or do anything. Pretend to be caught up in a conversation with a friend or sneak out onto the fire escape that you can only access through your room. Anything would be better than this: simply standing in place and waiting for the inevitable. You're angry. Yet sad. Confused. You're mad that he's still looking at you like he's in love with you. You're sad that he's still looking at you like he's in love with you. You're confused that he's still looking at you like he's in love with you.

Before your brain can turn on and make a move, Wyatt's suddenly there with an audacious hand clapped on Rafe's shoulder and gently shaking it to emphasize the presence.

"Honey!” Wyatt chirps brightly (curse his ability to literally befriend a brick wall, and curse the fact that you can't hate him for doing this to you right now if you tried). "This is Rafe, the friend from Coastal that I was telling you about."

"Honey?" Rafe murmurs in surprise, and you nearly stop breathing at the fact that you're hearing his voice again. "This is Honey?"

Before your friend can explain the horrifically embarrassing story as to how you got that nickname that your friends use more than your actual name, you miraculously find your voice.

"And this is the friend from Coastal you were telling me about?" Your tone matches your ex's of surprise.

If Wyatt notices the clear apprehension between you two, he either doesn't notice or simply doesn't care enough to address it. With some sort of magic, he manages to smile wider.

"Yeah! Figured since you both went there, you might know the same people?" He offers innocently, darting his gaze cheerfully between you as if he's waiting for something magical to happen.

But it...doesn't.

Because you fucking laugh.

Right in Rafe's face. And it's out of disbelief (and slight drunkenness) that this is actually happening right now. Your good friend is introducing you to your ex, the same ex that you haven't spoken to (or much less heard from) in six fucking months. The same ex that you've been absolutely devastated over losing. The same ex that you've been attempting to find fragments of in different people, yet coming up short every single time and thus ruining the progression of your love life.

It's comical, really, it is. Because what are the odds of this happening? Of Rafe Cameron standing in your apartment, in a place you thought hidden well enough to shield you from the ghosts of your past? Of the mere concept that this is how you're seeing him again: flushed and drunk and having a great time at a party you organized. It's out of left field, completely throwing you off your game (if you even have one).

"Yeah," you manage to get out, "we know of each other."

Wyatt beams, and Rafe frowns, portraying the happy-sad theatrical masks to a fucking T.

Yet your friend takes that as a cue to pat Rafe's back, sending another knowing glance your way as if to say you're welcome! before disappearing into the party, chatting up another group of friends as if he didn't just cause a rapture in your brain. You let your gaze settling on your friend morphing into the crowd before glancing back at your ex.

Who's staring right at you.

The seriousness in his expression makes you falter slightly, not because of the intensity of it but because you just...miss him. You haven't seen him in so long, haven't been this close to him. If you wanted to, you could reach out and grab him, tether yourself to him, cling onto a bicep like you used to love doing, or sit snug under his arm and relish in the warmth he always unintentionally provided. But you can’t. Not anymore. He made that clear when he ended things with you: he wants nothing to do with you anymore, and that includes your touch.

"Why did you say that?" He asks gently, as if it's plaguing him. "Why didn't you tell him?"

Your expression must look whack, because you manage a confused smile and an arched brow, as if it's obvious. "Because I'm not about to re-hash the semantics of our break up in the middle of the function right now?"

The tone isn't nice, but it isn't mean either. It is indifferent. Tired. As if you've just picked up the pieces of your heart that shattered with him leaving you, only to have the cracks form again and threaten to burst through the seams of the fragile tape you used to stitch your heart back up. It's a bit crazy for him to ask that, you think. Because why would you bring it up? Wyatt doesn't know any better, as the faux introduction was done out of pure innocence, so why damper the mood with the truth?

Rafe pauses at your words, and the longer he's silent the more you feel stupid. You feel stupid that you're essentially backed into a corner, drawing shapes in the wooden floors with the tops of your toes to keep from slipping, swishing around a drink that has one small sip left in it. It's almost worse that he's silent. You want him to scream. To get mad, for whatever reason. Because then it'll be easier for you to pull away, to detach, to fucking move on.

But he doesn't. He's gentle with you. He always was. Never raised his voice or acted out. He was just...Rafe.

He still is, apparently.

"How have you been?" He manages to ask after a moment's silence, opting for the safe choice of not going on a tangent based on your snotty response.

What do you think? You want to snap.

But you don't. You simply shrug. "Fine. You?"

Rafe furrows his brows, as if his answer is obvious yet prolonging the response to see if you really know, or are asking out of courtesy. You're asking because it's the script you normally follow, when someone asks how you are you typically ask them back. It's not rocket science. It doesn't need to be complicated. God, why is he making it complicated?

Why is he looking at you like that?

"Are you going to answer, or..?" You trail off, searching his eyes for any sort of answer but coming up short.

Your tone is detached, as if you're talking to an old friend who you can joke and kid around with. Not the guy you've loved for years. The wince on his face reminds you of that, that you’re not joking around with just anyone. You’re with him. You’re acting like nothing is wrong, like these past few months have been a walk in the park. It’s funny that you’re going at him as if you haven’t shared your deepest vulnerabilities with him beneath soft sheets that smell of him.

Although Rafe has absolutely no room to guilt trip you right now. He orchestrated this. He wanted this. Not you.

You speak before tears can start brimming your waterline. “Whatever. See you around.”

You’re quick to duck around his audaciously broad figure, beelining towards…anywhere that isn’t here and anywhere that doesn’t have him infiltrating your senses, dulling you down. A flicker of anger crosses across your heart, because how dare he? How dare he show up here (even if he didn’t actually know this is your place, the meaning still applies) and send you all these weird signals? How dare he look at you as if he’s in pain?

Because this is his fucking fault. He broke it off, he separated himself when he didn’t need to, he lost faith in himself as a partner. You loved him through his faults, and you still do, yet that still wasn’t enough to make him change his mind. All him. Not you.

Rafe says your name quietly.

Like an idiot, you turn. Despite the thumping bass and the high pitched laughter wafted through each room, you hear him loud and clear. His blue eyes are too pretty, too intently focused on you, too…everything. It’s almost painful to look at, to see the reminder that you lost him, you lost the privilege of staring shamelessly at those pretty, pretty blues.

“You look beautiful,” he says ardently, low in a tone just reserved for you.

But it only upsets you further, makes your heart split in quarters after he split it in half six months ago. You hate how sincere he sounds, as if he’s been itching to say it all this time. Instead of a compliment, it comes across as a reminder that he left.

All you can do is shake your head. “Fuck you, Rafe.”

And you’re disappearing into the party before he can object.

You’re grateful that your room is somewhat secluded from the communal spaces.

It’s especially forgiving in this instant, when you’re cozied up alone on the fire escape that someone can only access from your bedroom, hugging your knees and staring out onto the cityscape with a scowl so deep one may think the horizon wronged you. A joint that was supposed to calm your racing heart lays untouched next to your lighter, and you don’t even have the gall to light it and try and forget about the events of tonight. Knowing yourself and knowing your brain, the weed will only tenfold the nagging emotion.

You fucking miss him. And you fucking hate him. And you fucking love him.

It caught you immensely off guard to see him again, much less standing in your living room and talking with your new friends without them even knowing who he is, without knowing what he did. The result in your brain is immediate: you miss him. You didn’t realize how much you did until you saw him.

You miss the way he’d always wake up before you, either getting up to brew your favorite coffee blend or simply waiting for you to wake in his arms, tracing idle fingertips along your smooth skin or kissing your hairline. You miss how he always made you laugh, no matter how grumpy or irritated you were at him or at the world. You miss his charm, the way he’d always flirt with you regardless of how long you’d been together, pretending to not know you in public just to ask you out all over again. You miss how he knew you, how he knew your favorite things and brought you your favorite foods and candies, how he’d buy you silly trinkets he saw in a store window simply because it reminded him of you, how he’d know how to approach you when you’ve had a bad day. You miss how he loved you, like there was nothing else around him worth his time.

The tears don’t come. They almost do, but when the time comes for them to fall, they just…don’t.

Perhaps it’s because you’ve already used all of them on him. Or because you’re tired. Or because you’re simply sitting with a pit in your stomach about the fact that he’s here, he’s actually here, probably making friends and slowly integrating himself in the life you wanted him to be in from the start.

God, feelings fucking suck.

“Hey.”

The voice (the all too familiar voice) startles you, snapping you out of your thousand yard stare to whip your head around to face the culprit. You blink dumbfounded when your eyes meet his pretty blues, yours definitely blown wide simply at the mere thought of someone disturbing your fire escape time, a fire escape hidden from the party.

Of course, it’s him. How did he even find you?

You didn’t even hear the window crack open. Nor your bedroom door. You didn’t think someone would have the audacity to enter someone else’s bedroom without knocking, or perhaps he did and you simply didn’t hear it. Regardless of the way in which the events played out, he’s still leaning through your window frame and still too fucking close to be considered apprehensive.

At your silence, Rafe clears his throat with a cautious glance. “Can I sit?”

I don’t know, can you? You almost snap childishly, disastrously still wanting to put on the front you had on earlier to attempt to show him your indifference, but it proves unlikely that you’ll have an ounce of that spark you had from before.

Because now you’re just tired. Worn out mentally. Re-hashing the details of your breakup over and over and over in your head to torture yourself. You have little fight left in you, and the mere thought of trying to stay strong only settles more of a kettlebell in your gut.

Wordlessly, you nod.

It’s a bit awkward when he actually realizes you’ve said yes (gestured it, actually), registering that you’ve given him the green light instead of the red that he had been expecting, especially since your venomous words about an hour ago. His limbs are long and lanky, and it takes him a bit of time to actually situate himself next to you and find a position comfortable enough to accommodate his stature. It’s not the most forgiving fire escape, but you’ve gotten used to the harsh ridges and crates that are now a source of comfort.

Rafe notices the unlit joint. “Were you gonna smoke?”

You shrug, because you don’t even know. You brought it out here just to have some sort of outlet in the beginning, but realized it actually might make your spiraling worse, so you left it untouched. Perhaps for later. You didn’t even bring your phone out here.

The stubborn silence coming from you makes him antsy, you can tell. Because there’s one thing that always made him nervous, and that was when you shut down. When you closed yourself off and drifted into the confinements of your mind that aren’t forgiving. When you are silent, because he’s said before that he loves your words, and life without them always hurt no matter what. He dealt with your quiet as best as he could, and for the most part he always handled it well.

Obviously, his method of coddling you back into speaking isn’t going to work now. So instead he sits, picking at his nail beds that confirms he picked up his bad habit again. You almost instinctively reach out to get him to stop, but catch yourself before you can further embarrass yourself.

“You can have it, if you want,” you offer tiredly, voice quieter than you intended.

But despite the volume, his shoulders visibly relax at the sound of your voice.

“No, I’m…” Rafe clears his throat. “I’m okay. Thanks.”

Then, more silence.

He’s so close yet so far, just barely brushing shoulders and you almost don’t want the connection because it’ll simply remind you of how good it feels to touch him. You don’t want to know it again only to have the rug swept out from beneath you once more. So instead you keep your distance, and don’t lean into him as your heart achingly wants you to do so.

You speak before you make a stupid decision. “How’d you find me?”

In your peripheral, you see Rafe’s head tilt quizzically towards you as if he wasn’t expecting you to speak, to initiate the conversation after the drought. He’s quiet for one, two beats, finally registering that, no, he didn’t imagine it, you asked him a question.

“Wyatt,” he responds simply. His eyes feel like lasers boring into your profile, but you don’t give in, keeping your gaze solely on the city. “Gave me directions.”

You hum. Of course.

“This is nice,” Rafe adds after a few moments. “The place and the…view.”

Again, you hum, ignoring how he’s only looking at you.

“What’re you doing here?” You ask gently.

His brows raise at you bringing out the one million dollar question earlier than you both anticipated, but of course it’s the only one that’s been on your mind for the better part of an hour. He’s here, in the place you initially planned for you two to be in, the place he said he couldn’t follow you to because he didn’t want to bring you down. It feels like one big joke, as if your breakup meant nothing because, despite it all, he’s here.

“Wyatt’s helping me get on my feet,” he answers quietly. “Dad cut me off.”

That piques your curiosity, facing him briefly. “He did? Why?”

Rafe almost looks relieved you’re meeting his gaze. “Backed out of the family business.”

“What?”

He nods. “Put myself in it for a few months and it…” He sucks in a harsh breath. “Fuckin’ blowed. I freaked out, got in a huge fight with him and he just…kicked me out. Cut me off. Told me to go do whatever it is I wanted to do without him.”

Your face must be puzzled as all hell.

He…stepped away from his father’s company? The business he’s been groomed to rule his entire life? Every single major step of Rafe’s life was done to accommodate his eventual take over once his father passes or retires. He majored in business and commercial real estate. He picked up ungodly hours during the holidays or whenever he went home or even logged in from miles and miles away from home to help his dad out with a deal. It’s the only path he’s ever known, only thing he’s ever planned for, only subject he’s been focused on since the responsibility of being a predecessor was high.

And now he’s not doing it anymore?

You want to pry, of course you do, and ask if he’s alright after suddenly dropping the one thing his life seemingly amounted to for the entirety of college. You’ve seen how stressed it made him, how business deals tampered with his mental health and the fear of fucking up weighed on his conscious. More so the fear of disappointing his father.

But Rafe looks content…relaxed, even. It’s as if a massive weight has clobbered to the ground off his shoulders, giving him a newfound lightness to him that you haven’t seen before. Sure, his eyes still brim with a hurt that yours surely reflect, but there’s an easiness to his posture and overall demeanor. It’s almost foreign to see on him.

“And what are you doing now?” You ask incredulously, still wrapping your head around the fact that his life has completely flipped.

Rafe looks down briefly, at the ring you still wear that he gave to you on your birthday one year.

“Working at Wyatt’s dad’s construction site.”

Your brows skyrocket.

He laughs boyishly. “I know. Totally rogue, right?”

Despite it all and despite your aching heart, you manage to laugh with him.

“Rafe Cameron in construction?” You joke. “Never thought I’d see the day.”

He hums low and amused, eyes trained on you. “Me neither. But it’s been good. Steady. Keeping me busy enough so I can save up for school.”

You furrow your brows at him for the umpteenth time. “You’re going back?”

Rafe confirms your suspicions when he nods slowly, earnestly. “Hopefully next fall.”

The words ring through silence for a few moments as you study him, really study his face. It’s soft, still laced with the etches of hurt that isn’t seeming to go away anytime soon, but there’s a firmness to his expression that encapsulates his goals for his future. He looks certain of himself, unsure of himself emotionally, but focused with the way he’s talking about his future.

Because he never really had to deal with that uncertainty. Rafe was always going to move back home after graduation and work with his dad. That was always the plan, nothing more or less to it. He never gave second options a chance and always chased the noble pursuits that would aide him in his future with the company.

But now he’s… free? If that’s the right term for it?

You remember how he used to talk about it sometimes as if it was a prison, as a wheel he’s caught on and never not spinning away from his actual dreams and desires. It was always his path, so Rafe never wanted to think about the possibility of doing something different, because it felt like a lost cause. He’d never be able to leave, so why day dream about doing so? It would only hurt his soul.

Now he’s freed from the burden. And he’s never looked more content.

“That’s…” You try and find the right words. “Good for you.”

You say it as genuinely as you mean it, one hundred percent earnestly. Because he does deserve it, the chance to find himself outside the confinements of what he was bred to be.

But it still doesn’t answer the grand scheme of questions, the big kahuna that’s been plaguing your conscious. Not the question of how he found your room, or your private rooftop, but more so you. Your apartment. Your city. You.

“Why here?” You ask gently. “Out of all the places to start over, you…”

You came to me, you almost say.

But refrain. Because that’s fucking stupid to assume.

It must be a coincidence, no? He has friends here, people to fall back on and places that someone else can introduce him to. He’s not completely alone in his endeavors, like he’s said that Wyatt is helping him get back on his feet. That’s no reason for you to assume that his presence, his uproot, is all because of you. You can’t. Because you’ll spiral more than you already are.

And his answer is worse.

“Because you’re here,” he says simply as if it’s law.

Wh—?

You can barely respond. “Bec—because I’m—?“

Rafe laughs quietly at your befuddlement. “I didn’t know you’d be here literally. Wyatt never told me your name when he told me about the party, only called you Honey. So that was…unintentional.” He hums. “What does Honey mean anyway?”

Your panic spikes. “Uh, nothing. It’s not— There’s no reason to— Semantics.” You’re still trying to wrap your head around the fact that he’s here for you. “You’re here— You— For me?”

When he nods, it literally sucks the air from your lungs.

“It’s strange,” he says quietly after a moment of relishing in your panicked demeanor. “Seeing you with people who are calling you a different name. Seeing pieces of you around the apartment. I knew as soon as I walked in, it just…fucking killed me.” His fingers twitch in your direction, as if his body is involuntarily drawing himself to touch you. “I didn’t realize it would hurt so fucking bad.”

You can’t help but frown. “You’re the one who did it.”

Rafe squeezes his eyes shut, almost pained. “I know. I know.”

“It’s not fair.”

“I know, baby,” he says, the name slipping out like a second nature that stabs your gut. “None of what I'm doing is fair, I- it's selfish. I know that. But I..."

Rafe trails off, scoffing at his own inability to form the words he wishes to speak. You can recognize that, understanding the frustration is not with you but rather the internal turmoil in his own mind. He's constantly fighting with himself, teetering between what feels wrong and what feels right and almost always self destructing in the end.

Words never came easy to him. It's something you learned early on with him, realizing that his actions spoke a lot louder than he ever could. At first, you thought he was odd for shutting down after arguments with his father or after the two of you would disagree on something. But once you saw the laundry neatly folded after one of your classes or the fridge restocked without you asking, you realized that this, the wordless acts, were his versions of mending broken amenities.

You also know that Rafe was probably never taught to properly emote. Orchestrated by the faults of his father.

So you wait patiently. You let him take time to find his words. You allow him to make up for the blunder of his break up.

Playing with the ends of your hoodie (you changed into comfort clothes an hour ago once you promptly decided you will not be returning to the party), you watch as Rafe studies the ring on your finger, brows knit as his eyes narrow in an attempt to ground himself, to focus his thoughts carefully and calculate what he wants to say, how he wants to say it. Trying really, really hard to articulate his bubbling feelings.

"There hasn't been a day that's gone by where I don't think about you," he starts slowly, tone low to articulate his seriousness. "Every fucking day, all I can see is how I hurt you."

The instinct to say something, to say anything, is stronger than you've ever felt. But you hold back, you bite your tongue, instead sucking in a deep breath with the anticipation that whatever he's about to say is going to fucking hurt. Not because you've already been through this before, but because he's probably about to break your heart without even knowing.

He continues. "It wasn't— When you told Wyatt we knew of each other, I... To look at you and pretend you were someone I've never met as if you aren't the only thing keeping my life together at this point.”

Rafe trails off, squeezing his eyes shut momentarily to avoid going on a tangent, to focus on what's important to him in this moment, to not get hung up on semantics from earlier when you were being an asshole.

With another deep breath, he continues.

"I thought I was doing what was right by distancing myself from you, because I knew I'd be suck at home working a job that would've made me miserable, and I..." He sucks in a harsh breath, shaking his head.

But you're yearning for an answer. For anything. "You what?"

Rafe briefly meets your gaze, almost shyly, because you're still here hanging onto every single one of his words. And the look on your face is fucking killing him, because you only look more hurt than before yet prettier than ever.

He swallows harshly. "I know what I'm like. Especially around my old man, and I didn't want to subject you to that."

"Rafe."

It's said as a plea, so earnest and heartbroken that he didn't think you would stand by him, through his wide range of emotions. Because you love him. You know the mental struggle he deals with whenever his father is involved in anything, and you knew that going into your post grad lives. Still, you were going to stick by him, no matter what.

Rafe says your name quietly. "I don't like who I am when I'm around him. I'm mean, and self destructive and...and a total fucking head case."

You whisper his name once more.

But he only shakes his head. "Please, I—I know it sounds stupid, alright? I just didn't want you to see that, to see that part of me. The thought of being long distance with you already fucking killed me, and I didn't need my temper adding onto it."

Rafe's eyes leave yours and settle downwards on the metal crate you're practically both sitting on. His fingers immediately fly to his hand, incessantly picking at his nail beds as a tell that he's on edge, close to panicking. He probably doesn't even realize he's doing it, but his eyes dart back on forth as he shakes his head, almost to himself, as the gears in his mind turn and turn and turn to desperately search for something more to say.

The act is muscle memory when your hand goes to cover his, stopping his bad habit immediately.

His head whips up to meet your gaze, jolted by the contact he surely was not expecting.

But you hold your own, gazing at him gently to stop the horrific insecurities you know he's spewing to himself in his head. For once, you need him to stop listening to himself and listen to his heart, listen to you, to stop trusting the devil on his shoulder and self sabotage in fear of others doing it first. You'd never. Not with him. He must know that.

"I know you," you say quietly. "And I know you would never hurt me without meaning to."

He winces.

Yet you continue. "I know you push people away before they can do it to you. But you need to understand something, Rafe, that I wasn't going anywhere. I'm not going anywhere now. When will you let yourself believe that?"

Rafe frowns impossibly deep, brows furrowing at the notion that you're still here. Despite everything he's done to you, said to you, made you think, you're still here. Wanting him. Caring for him. Being too damn sweet for your own good as you always were. And still are. You're still you, through fragments and a smile that doesn't reach your eyes quite yet, but you're still you. Looking at him like you still love him.

When your hand leaves his to cup his jaw gently, it feels like he can breathe again.

Holy fuck. You've almost forgotten what it's like to touch him. To feel him. To run your fingers along the smoothness of his skin and ground him to a moment so emotional that it nearly sends you flying away. Your palm is practically molded to the sculpture of his bone structure, as if it's been without a puzzle piece for so long, spending so much time incomplete and half of a whole.

Subconsciously, he leans into your touch.

"It feels wrong," he murmurs, eyes boring into yours so deeply that you're getting whiplash. "Having someone care about me like you do. It's not... No one has ever... I don't know how to deal with it."

"By talking," you hum low. "By telling me how you feel. Telling me what you need." Your thumb rubs an absentminded circle over his cheekbone.

He nearly sighs at the sensation. "I don't want to be a burden."

If possible, you frown even more than before. "You're not— Why would you say that? You're not a burden. At all."

Rafe doesn't answer you immediately. His brows pinch at the concept, as if it's foreign, as if what you've said is two plus two is five. His cheek is hot under your palm, hot with nerves and vulnerability that makes him temporarily speechless, and all you do is watch him. You wait for him to come to you. You've said (partially) your piece. His mouth opens and closes once, twice, as if the words are on the tip of his tongue but he refrains last minute, recalibrating his thoughts into something more cohesive.

"My worst fear is disappointing you," he says after a moment of considering your words. "Bringing you down with me. I can't... I won't let that happen."

"You're not," you say almost immediately.

"But I—“

"Do you remember the first week we met?" You blurt out suddenly, rudely interrupting him.

Confusedly, Rafe's head tilts slightly at the anecdote. Nonetheless, he nods slowly, almost egging you to continue.

And you do. "When I cancelled the dinner date at that fancy restaurant you set up? Because I had the flu?"

It was only one of the worst days of your life. Bedridden. Immobile. Practically death without the actual dying part. Too frail to even pick up a water bottle and too stubborn to ask for help. Teetering between being buried under six blankets to cranking the AC on full blast. It was grueling. Debilitating. You missed a plethora of assignments and social gatherings (despite it only being a few days).

He says your name gently. "What's this got to do wit—"

Again, you interrupt him. "You dropped everything, and I mean everything, to take care of me. And then you spent so much time with me that you fucking got sick too," you reminisce, adding a soft chuckle at the end when you think back on the don't be mad text that came from him just days after he was with you.

But he's still not getting it, blinking wordlessly at you in hopes you'll tell him what you mean, why this story has something to do with anything that's going on right now. What he doesn't realize, though, is that it is exactly the kind of thing he sees past. He probably doesn't know how much that meant to you, despite it probably being mindless for him.

How could he even think of himself as a burden? As wasted air? When all he's done is loved you in every way he knows how? How could he even think he's disappointed you when his love has been unlike anything you've ever experienced before? How could he think that low of himself?

"You could never disappoint me," you continue to further add your point. "Never. When all you've done was love me."

“I still do,” he answers almost immediately. “I haven’t stopped.”

You’re moving forward before you both can process it.

Wrapping your arms around his neck, your body is instantly taut to his, chest to chest and cheek to cheek as you find your mold against his body. It’s familiar yet agonizing, almost mind blowing that you’ve gone so long without him, without his touch, without his embrace that you quickly grew to love the first time he held you. You feel like you can finally breathe, finally remember the beautiful feeling after losing it.

Rafe’s nearly — if not more — relieved than you are, wrapping his arms around you immediately with one hand butterfly splaying on your back and the other on the back of your head, keeping you close. The deep exhale that emits from his mouth tickles your ear, and you let yourself close your eyes at the warmth of him, of how he smells the same.

“Fuck,” he murmurs quietly, almost to himself. “I missed you. I missed you so fucking much.”

Tears brim your waterline. You’ve been without him for so long, loving a shadow of a man without ever seeing or hearing from him. You wanted to be angry, to hate him, to say fuck it and move on with your life. But you couldn’t. Not when he’s the only one who has ever made you feel alive. Not when he’s been hurting in his own quiet way and self sabotaging at the fear of hurting you.

Rafe sucks in a large breath and, with that, his chest bumps impossibly taut to yours. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I made a mistake.”

“Don’t leave,” you plead, your voice ghosting the shell of his ear that makes the hair on his arm stand up. “Please. Not again.”

“I won’t,” he answers immediately, sounding absolutely wrecked. “I won’t, baby. I promise. I’m here. Not going anywhere.”

You let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding, readjusting your grip around him to pull tighter — if possible — and practically seating yourself in his lap. It’s not comfortable at all, and you can’t imagine it’s comfortable for him against the grate-like fire escape. But it’s when you need, it’s what he needs, and neither of you can fathom how long you spent away from each other, almost like a sick joke.

And you just stay like this for a bit, holding onto each other as if you’re gripping onto a balloon threatening to float away. Despite his shorter, new hair, his cologne is the same as you first met him. The ring adorning his finger, the family ring, is missing from his hand, instead replaced with a similar looking one. The shirt is sleek and thin and you can feel the ridges and hills of his muscles underneath it. He may look a little different, more mature and in different clothes, but he feels the same as he’s always been, he’s still the person you know through and through.

“Inside,” you say after a while. “Please?”

“Yes,” he whispers immediately, certain. “No need to beg, baby. I’ll do whatever you want.”

When you untangle limbs, it’s slow, calculated, appreciative. His hands linger on your body longer than they should, mapping regions he hasn’t touched in months, re-familiarizing himself with the dips and crevices of your body. You do the same, pressing the pads of your fingertips along his shoulder blades and on the columns of his neck, skimming gently over the single earring adorning his left ear that definitely wasn’t there before. His skin is hot, almost burning for you, yet inviting in a way that makes you never want to let go.

It takes a little while to mobilize. You’re so caught up in feeling each other that you don’t realize how much time has passed. Not that it matters anyway. Because all you can focus on is the man in front of you, putting his heart on a silver platter and serving it to you hot. It’s all limbs and incoordination when climbing back through your window, soft laughter echoing off the alley walls and reverberating into your bedroom. His hands attempt to help you, drifting down to your waist as you climb through and you assume it’s a gesture just for him to cop a feel. But you don’t mind. You’ve missed it. You never want his hands away from you again.

When you change into pajamas and you slither into bed, your eyes brazenly watch him. The way he peels his t-shirt off his body, or unbuckles his pants to leave him solely in his boxers, in his preferred sleep wear. Yet he does it because he knows you: he knows you don’t like “outside clothes” in your sheets, wordlessly respecting your wishes without even being told so.

Rafe climbs under the sheets like he owns it, and you’ve already designated that side of the bed to him long ago, so seeing him here doesn’t feel so foreign. It’s muscle memory when his hand seeks refuge on your waist, shamelessly settling under your sleep shirt to let the pads of his fingertips dig into your flesh to almost stake a claim, but also to tether himself.

Your hand, on instinct, ghosts the skin of his chest, palm skimming over his heart. Despite not pressing fully, you can practically feel how fast it’s beating, how hard it’s thrumming against his ribcage. Though his content expression is a contrary to the feeling, looking more relaxed than ever.

The sensation makes your lips twitch. “Your heart is racing.” You let your palm press gently onto the rhythm.

His smile is impossibly bright.

“Remember when I kissed you for the first time?”

“I remember you being so nervous that you missed.”

“Alright.” Rafe laughs. “Not what I was referring to, but I guess.”

It’s devastatingly refreshing to see his smile, almost forgetting how pretty he looks like this: happy, unguarded, mind quiet of its vulnerabilities and allowing him to enjoy the moment, to slow down and indulge in the simplicities yet complexities of love.

“Then what?” You hum teasingly, his blue eyes piercing despite the dim lighting. “If not that?”

The laughter dies down. His gaze softens. His thumb traces shapes on your skin.

“Thought my heart was gonna burst out of my fuckin’ chest,” he murmurs casually as if that doesn’t make yours skip a beat, even more so when his hand comes up to caress your face, thumb skimming over your bottom lip. “Every single time.”

“You should probably see a cardiologist.”

“Don’t need a diagnosis, baby. ‘S just you.”

You try not to smile. You really try. But it’s really fucking difficult when he looks so pretty, staring at you like you’ve hung the stars yourself and holding you here in place so firmly yet gently at the same time that you couldn’t move if you tried. And he knows it. He knows you’re trying not to give into his charm, the same charm that you’ve been falling for for as long as you’ve known him.

“And now?” You dare, pressing your hand into his beating heart. “How’s it feel?”

“Like it’s gonna burst outta my chest,” he says before kissing you.

Instantly, you’re arching into his body, palms pressed firmly on his chest as a feeble attempt to ground yourself, to remind yourself that this is happening and, no, you’re not dreaming. Rafe’s here, in your bed, kissing you like his life depends on it (and it probably does). Your brows pinch even though he can’t see your face, furrowed in focus to narrow in on the passion.

Rafe makes a noise. A sigh? You think. Regardless, you reciprocate and deepen the kiss by slightly parting your lips, allowing him the access he’s been craving. And he takes advantage in less than a second, a large hand splayed on the column of your neck to keep you here against him, feeling the way your jaw slightly opens to accommodate him.

“I love you,” he praises between breaths as if it’ll kill him if he doesn’t. “I love you, I love you, I love you.”

You say it back. He says it again. You tennis-match the phrase over and over and over until the phonetics are burned into your tongues. He murmurs it against your skin against your lips, you beck, your chest, your stomach, the inside of your thighs. You whisper it into the air as if it’s prayer, an incantation that, strung together, produces a spell unlike any other.

And he’s hypnotized. It isn’t until you finish twice on his tongue that he’s even thinking about himself, and it’s only when you, in a daze, paw at his chest as ask for him, for all of him. He nearly double takes, caught up in the moment of simply pleasuring you, and if you hadn’t stopped him, if you hadn’t asked so sweetly, he would’ve went down on you ‘til sunrise.

The whole ordeal is slow. Unhurried. Deep and sensual that rattles your bones to shake. When he slips inside, it’s fucking euphoric, with an overwhelming sense of longing, nostalgia that causes a pleasure tear to slip from your eye, a tear that falls without you knowing. Not until he brushes it away with the pad of his thumb, anyway.

You’re sure you’re a babbling mess, spewing out incoherent sentences and mumbles of an I love you that probably don’t make sense. But he hears you all the same, going as far as repeating the phrase over and over against your skin like a mantra, telling you how nice you feel, that you’re made for him, how beautiful you are despite probably looking like a hot mess.

When all is said and done, Rafe is right there to tend to your needs. He’s kissing your stomach as he cleans the mess from your inner thighs. His thumb is smoothing over the hickies he peppered over multiple regions of your body, praising how beautiful you look, how good you were for him. He patiently waits for you to go to the bathroom and get ready for bed before he’s welcoming you back with open arms, and you’re not hesitating to fall into them. His embrace is warm and familiar, and you find it easy to breathe, to feel like you can relax. Rafe must feel the same, because his breathing is deeper, more evened out. Calmer and more sure of himself. Content.

“Stay the night,” you plea gently as you’re halfway to falling asleep.

You know it’s pathetic to ask, that he probably was going to anyway. But there’s that small sliver of doubt, the tiny voice in the back of your brain that’s haunted from the first time he left, driven to separation by his insecurities. You say it to be sure he knows, that he could stay for the rest of your life and you wouldn’t mind.

“I’m not leaving,” Rafe reassures against your hairline. “I’m here. I’m not going anywhere. Not again.”

And you fall asleep like that: entangled limbs and sharing the same pillow despite a whole arm’s length of space. Your even breaths are what lure him to sleep, waiting for the crazy thumping of his heartbeat to die down before you can wake up to it. He relishes in the sensation of your breathing, how your chest rises and falls against his, and how you practically nuzzle into his embrace that confirms that you missed him just as much as he missed you.

Rafe pulls you a fraction tighter, refusing to let you go again. It’s a wordless promise that he’s going to try to be better for you, to stop listening to the vulgarities of his mind and listen to his heart. He’s going to allow himself to be loved by you and he’s going to let himself believe he deserves it.

Because if you say it? It’s as good as law.

© salem-s please do not copy or replicate work unless given permission.

notes hope this request is what you envisioned???? hope you enjoyed!!

[phineasandferbs]

[breaks fingers off] now it's time to scream about the revised series bible

candace now being downgraded to "potential fly in their ointment" 💀 but also 😊

"spurred on by a fifteen year-old girl’s natural desire for control, order and normalcy" CANDACE BABY GIRL 🥺

"needless to say, like most healthy young boys, phineas and ferb have a pet platypus named perry" they're funnyyyyyyy

of course all age refs for p&f are removed in this one

"in terms of character, phineas is who he is, almost more so than any other character [...] since he has no achilles heel he must overcome in order to succeed, his character is not built for story arcs that change and evolve who he is. also, without the seed of self-defeat or self-destruction planted inside him, he has difficulty recognizing it in others. this keeps him focused and optimistic. it also helps make it understandable why he his [sic] baffled by these aspects in others and remains unaware of candace’s negative, self-destructive determination to bust him. phineas truly doesn’t understand why people don’t view life the way he does, but he never judges them for it [...] he is like a used car salesman who actually has the best cars in the world" i'm WEEPING!!! phineas flynn i love you with my whole heart!!! he doesn't have obstacles to success, he doesn't need to grow or change, he doesn't even understand self-doubt, he would never judge anyone for being different from him despite not getting it, he is a 👏 USED 👏 CARS 👏 SALESMAN 👏 WHO 👏 ACTUALLY 👏 HAS 👏 THE 👏 BEST 👏 CARS 👏 IN 👏 THE 👏 WORLD 👏 like my boy will promise you the world, the most unbelievable deal that common sense says has to be a scam but he'll deliver 😭 literally everything to me

"throughout the first season, phineas naturally and organically became more layered and dimensional as different situations and interactions further developed the 'who he is' of his personality" this special show <3333 the way it let itself grow and develop despite its formulaic nature that would make it a no-brainer for it to force it to stay the same

"faced with TWO goals at odds with each other can create a bit of a bump in the road for phineas, but these instances are either VERY quickly resolved or best left to be explored in longer form movies and specials" them explicitly saying we can have angry phineas only for specials and movies like angry!phineas is the fine china we can only bring out when we have guests we want to impress lol

well they didn't fix the misspelling of radar's name but he's still mentioned so a win's a win 🤷

describing ferb as "sphinx-like" precious precious boy 🥰

"he does not actively avoid speaking. he just rarely needs to talk because he and phineas are always on the same page" oh my god,,,,,, ferb doesn't need to speak because phineas speaks for them both [we already knew this] i'm having a breakdown,,,, they are EVERYTHING TO ME

"ferb is the guy who builds the greatest cars in the world, which is the reason phineas has such confidence in his words" oh my fucking god.......................phineas' confidence is rooted in ferb's abilities....... these two....... these two........ also thinking about how this was written while they were writing summer belongs to you where phineas and ferb give a pep talk to candace about believing in herself on the basis that she believes in them and they believe in her so she believes in herself all the while phineas believes in them because he believes in ferb..... oh, i am ill with love i fear

"but to say phineas is actually the idea man isn’t exactly the case. many times, hit with a bolt of inspiration from whatever they both just saw or heard, phineas will announce that HE knows what they are going to do that day, as if ferb had to follow his brother around, bent and broken to his will. the truth is ferb’s always hit with the same bolt of inspiration as his brother" what if you were twins and soulmates but you weren't actually biologically related and were born across the sea from one another but the universe still brought you together...... the most important babies in the world to me forever

"it’s best not to focus on the fact ferb doesn’t talk, though - he just doesn’t. instead, explore the ways in which his silence is a strength" guh i really do love this aspect of the show like the way ferb being very quiet is never treated as a bad thing and here they are explicitly stating it's a strength in the bible because there's nothing wrong with it 🥰

"although his silence could make him SEEM like a second banana, ferb is very much phineas’ equal. in this way, they are a two-headed machine built for making every day count" me when the titular pair of the show are in fact a pair: 🫢 god i love hearing it stated like this though <33333

"unlike phineas, though, who uses these immense powers in service of his positive attributes, candace uses her same powers in the service of her ego, fears, suspicion, paranoia, etc" oh candace, my beloved.... she's just a girl fr

"the point is no matter what Candace’s story is, the fun is to [...] to watch her scream at all the trees to move so she can see the forest" oh candace flynn, my dearly beloved darling girl ❤️ luv this as a summary of her role in the show

"it’s a catch-22 (like getting into sag)." oh they're making industry jokes now, huh?

"we are planning a feature length special in which candace and jeremy share their first kiss under the eiffel tower in paris" FASCINATING! so they were planning to have them kiss there (did we already know this? i feel like dwampy&co may have already revealed this, it feels vaguely familiar). also this being summer belongs to you's only outright mention is making me fond

"mainly, though, candace just wants to be a normal fifteen-year-old girl, and phineas and ferb’s lack of desire to be normal bratty little brothers is an endless source of annoyance for her" she just wants them to annoying brats but instead they're so good that it's even more annoying to her soooo precious

linda flynn-fletcher your odd clubs and classes will always be famous 2 me. iconic and beyond reproach

"on the other hand, lawrence is actually used more than perhaps even originally intended and the stories where he is a more central character show he has developed a sort of fun, absent-minded-professor quality which adds a lot to the episodes in which he appears" and thank god

"perry’s lack of facial reaction (or any kind of reaction, for that matter) when he’s in Pet Mode also holds true for him in Agent Mode" the way this eroded way in times of great love for both the boys and doof many times in the series 🥰🥰🥰 (and i wish it would again with the new eps but that's not what we're talking about rn)

"[perry's] countenance is virtually unbreakable" thinking about perry's look of devastation when doof dumps him in last day of summer and floating

"an agent can’t let his feelings shade his judgment, and it is for this reason that perry will not get involved with a female platypus. he’s too well trained to be tempted, and even though his theme song suggests that the ladies swoon for him, he knows better. it won’t happen. focus elsewhere!" DYING at the thought dwampy had to put this in because disney execs wouldn't stop trying to force heterosexuality on this playpus 😭😭😭 also all i'm saying is not mention of perry not getting involved with a male human........ suspicious that 👀

"perry cares deeply about his 'host family,' especially phineas and ferb, [...] his relationship with the boys is filled with the same unconditional affection as any other pet/owner relationship" i literally feel ILL over how much i love them holy shit

"as for perry’s relationship to his nemesis, dr. doofenshmirtz, [...] what began as a simple archenemy situation has developed into a very complex relationship because they both literally spend almost all day together, every day. they are like an old married couple - who want the other one to die painfully. they are like best friends - but with ray guns and fist fights" crazyyyyy they were perryshmirtz-ing on main in 2008.... also the way it started as simple enemies and became something more organically is truly sooooo special that's why it's the greatest ship <333333

"it’s as if they are both duty bound to be mortal enemies when they are on the clock, but at quitting time they’d hang out and watch videos and travel together" oh my god....... this is actually INSANE. WHAT DO YOU MEAN THEY WANT TO CASUALLY HANG OUT AND DO SOMETHING SO DOMESTIC AND CASUAL AS WATCHING VIDEOS TOGETHER. WHAT IS A BETTER EXPRESSION OF WANTING TO BE WITH SOMEONE THAN WANTING TO DO NOTHING WITH THEM. WHAT DO YOU MEAN THEY WANT TO TRAVEL TOGETHER. THEY WANT TO TAKE LITTLE VACATIONS OFF THE CLOCK AND GO SEE THE WORLD LIKE SOME KIND OF HONEYMOON, HUH? WHAT IN THE ULTIMATE ROMANCE IS THIS.............

"it sometimes seems if perry is annoyed by [doof's ineptitude at being evil] to the point of giving doofenshmirtz a hand just to make the game a bit more interesting" imaging perry out here like "i can fix him" while doof is out here like "wait how do i play pool... i guess you'll have to teach me...."

"the bane of Perry’s existence (for reasons other than he wants, sadly)" i think this is referring to how hopeless doof is at evil but i'm taking this as gay. amen.

"doofenshmirtz is basically an evil genius with very poor planning skills or a very stupid man with great planning skills. either way, his plans are often destined to fail even before perry shows up, and the issue quickly becomes how to save doofenshmirtz from his own plan" oh my god the way this literally reads like doof is just bad at evil to get perry to show up and save him........ 🫢🫢🫢

"doofenshmirtz always calls perry “perry-the-platypus” as if he thinks that’s his first name" it's a beloved nickname akin to calling your partner baby when you think about it. change my mind.

"'agent p.,' which is how [monogram] always refers to his star agent" monogram viewing perry as his job, p&f viewing perry the same as if he's another member of the family and doof viewing perry as both who he is and what he is... something is here but i don't have to properly analyze and articulate it

"monogram’s formal but affectionate, boss/employee relationship with perry" thinking about this hard-ass secret agent perry with such a web of people he cares deeply about <33333333333

ah karl back when they spelt it with a "k"

calling vanessa seventeen years old while writing s2 when she turned sixteen this summer in s1......

"[doof's] focus on the evil sciences leaves [vanessa] feeling neglected and misunderstood" BABY GIRL NOOOOOO 😢

okay and they added that isabella is nine years old to the bible at some point like uh??

"while isabella’s crush on phineas surely remains intact, it is touched upon rarely (unlike candace and jeremy) and is mainly used on occasion for shading and coloring her motives. isabella is, apart from ferb, phineas’ best friend, and it is as if that deep bond came first, and, as in real life, isabella matured earlier and the bond deepened to a crush for her sooner. either way, isabella’s disappointment over this is rarely really played up, although the romantic side of their relationship is inched along in small steps every once in a while" this sooooooooo sweet, i love them!!!! sweethearts!!!

"jeremy has a good sense of humor about candace’s odd behavior sometimes, and it even seems to be part of her charm to him. she’s just not like all the other girls" noooo they pick-me'd candace "this shows a more dimensional personality for jeremy than most popular, worried-about-always-looking-cool, hunky guys seem to have" nvm they also pick-me'd jeremy, thereby cancelling out candace's pick-me-ing and making it sweet again ❤️ they're not like anyone else and they're special, that's all!

"buford first appeared as a fairly stereotypical bully, but he has somehow managed to work his way into being among phineas and ferb’s close circle of friends" i am olivia wilde nodding rn

"among his own pals, buford’s best friend is ironically the group’s biggest nerd, baljeet" vs baljeet's paragraph not mentioning buford :( but also still best friend status already confirmed in 2008!!!

"as the first season developed and phineas and ferb occasionally offered help to others, baljeet slowly came to rely on and then expect their help. soon an element of selfish entitlement began creeping into his attitude toward the boys" is it selfish if the boys are happy to give it 😕

the bible talking about how stacy's figure skating "can be explored more in second season" ....uh oh, guess what didn't happen... i do wonder why though!!

"equally sadly, jenny has appeared in only two episodes. she is certainly a character to be developed in the second season where her usefulness in more stories will help evolve and define her traits" oof the way they literally tried so hard to make django and jenny happen but it just wasn't meant to be 🤷

suzy being seen as important enough to merit a character description is wilddddd

"in the show, the tri-state area is almost used as the boundary of the known universe" this is precious to me!!!!!! like yes going to england and the moon is the same thing because it's all outside of the tri-state area

"these three (as yet) unnamed states" oh damn so they were open to possibly naming the states..... interesting..... very interesting....

"the planet earth, in its entirety, is where it all takes place. except when they leave earth - which they’ve done. twice. (phineas and ferb own a milkshake bar at the edge of the cosmos, and candace is actually the queen of the martian people. go figure.)" i love the little jokes they've added it adds a layer of confidence that wasn't previously there which is real great <333

now why is rollercoaster listed as 105 in the loglines

also unfair science fair being 133 vs the redux being 149 in the loglines

also also they definitely skipped some numbers in the loglines i wonder what that means

more leaks!

original show bible (06/08/06)

revised show bible (02/29/08)

[odds-group]

Avoided Kiss

Pairing: March 7th, Himeko, Stelle, Kafka, Silver Wolf, Asta, The Herta, Ruan Mei, Serval, Seele, Natasha, Bronya x GN! Reader (all separate)

Genre: Fluff

They try to give you a kiss, and you avoid it??? You caught them off guard.

A/n: no warnings needed, just be cautious, cuz I can promise that most of them are NOT happy. 😓

Astral Express

March 7th

All dramatic about it.

She is NOT happy with you too much.

Especially if you did it to tease her, or as a joke.

Expects a new plushie.

And chocolate, cuddles, finished with a movie in bed.

But seriously you now owe her.

Still playfully pouting.

Himeko

Surprised for sure.

I meannnn.

Have you seen the way she acts?

She prob expects you to be all over her the first move.

But no, you simply dodged it.

Quietly apologizes before going back to her normal self.

Now she expects YOU to kiss her first, you just screwed yourself.

Stelle

YOU DID NOT

NOOO MY BBG STELLE

Our precious raccoon lady feels so bad and guilty.

She deserves a kiss for that.

She's sulking in the corner :(

Apologizes before digging through a trash can to make herself feel better.

Stellaron Hunters

Kafka

Do you hate yourself?

Let's be honest.

You're madly in love with this woman.

You would never reject a kiss from this woman.

If you would

Oh boy, where do I start

Everything she says afterwards is both a threat and her flirting

AT THE SAME TIME

You're doomed

Nothing else for me to say safely

Wishing you luck xoxo

Silver Wolf

Omg 😭

It is such a rare thing to happen

And now you're rejecting it.

I hope you're ready to wait 927383738271 years before she tries again.

Lol all jokes aside,

She's just going back to her games.

Ofc she feels a little offended, but she's not going to make you feel uncomfortable.

She loves you too much for that

She's waiting though, waiting for you to realize it's prob not going to happen again.

Wolfie deserves a kiss for that though :(

Herta's Space Station

Asta

Immediate panic.

She's scared 😭

Please don't report her to HR

Girl kinda needs her job

I meannnn

How is she going to support peppy?

She's probably already spent all her trust fund money.

She feels so bad.

And apologies constantly

She's probably avoiding you for at least a couple days.

Just expect to find little snacks around with apologies written on them.

The Herta

BHAHAHHAHA

Oh you're actually serious

She is actually so offended even I'm scared.

Literally scoffs in your face.

You bruised her ego :( (it was funny do it again)

Suddenly decides she has better things to do.

Definitely making a plan to successfully kiss you though.

Ruan Mei

OH LAWRDDD

SHE AIN'T MISSING NEXT TIME

But you will be safe for at least the next month 😌

BUT BEWARE 👹

She will be taking her chances and making you more down bad for her.

So that kiss is even more sweet and wanted <3

All apart of her elaborate plan of making you madly in love with her

Belabog

Serval

More than likely hitting on you afterwards

Idk I can just feel the gayness coming off of her

You two will be making out next you both are alone

There are no exceptions

Teasing as payback

You gonna pay for it somehow.

Seele

Okay she didn't even expect her self to do that

And for you to avoid it too??

Poor girl

Will ask for you to forget it

But poor girl can't forget it herself

She's just constantly thinking about what it meant and how she feels

Please give her a kiss :(

Natasha

Congratulations

You just made the gentle giant feel guilty 😐

I hope you're happy with yourself

Now you have to make the first move

but she genuinely is worried that she made you uncomfortable

She will be apologizing for the next couple times you two see each other.

Bronya

She feels so bad :(

How dare you do that to my overworked bbg

She deserves the world

And you deny her a kiss :(

She'll def write about her feelings in a journal

But that journal will never see the light of day.

She won't try until you do

And when you do she won't avoid.

A/N: dividers are not mine but I forgot who I got them from 😭. If they see this I am so sorry 😭😭

[houtdoggo]

BULLY OC INTRO

CHARLIE HICKS

- Charlie and her brother Brian were born into a dysfunctional family. Both parents were alcoholics who did not admit it and were convinced that everything was fine with their family. They treated their children more like a burden that needed to be clothed, fed and given a roof over their heads.

- The mother, being drunk, often quarreled with the children and if Charlie or Brian cried, she tried to shut them up by any means. In principle, she did not like any bright expression of emotions in the house, so she reproached the children in every possible way if they reacted too violently. Because of this, Charlie and Brian, already growing up, do not know how to use their emotions correctly. Because of this, it is quite difficult for Charlie to socialize at school.

- Despite her problems with socialization, she tries to get along with people who are really being nice to her, and vice versa.

- She has some kind of pyromania. Charlie really loves watching things burn or explode, she even has a small notebook in which she writes down how she sets fire to trash cans or dry grass. She keeps a lot of firecrackers at home, which she rarely brings to school to have fun or scare the Preppies. You can always find matches and a lighter in her pockets, so she can often light a cigarette if someone asks (but she doesn't smoke herself because of the taste that makes her want to puke lol ).

- At school, she was caught setting fire to things on school grounds more than once, so she tries to control herself during school to avoid being kicked out.

References:

RELATIONSHIPS WITH THE CLIQUES

Nerds:

She spends most of her school time hanging around with some non-clique students or nerds, cuz she is a big fan of the G&G, and most likely cuz she is not so bad in chemistry and math. And nerds don't seem to mind her company either, so they often hang out with her.

Jocks and Bullies (For Charlie they are no different from each other):

For most of the Bullworth students she is just a "weird" girl because of her communication problems and strange behavior. A good target for bullies and jocks, ridht? She is aware of her weirdness and is irritated by bullying. So she always tries to fight back, respond to insults verbally or start a fight, even if it is obvious that she will lose. But to be honest, it doesn't really help and the mockery of her doesn't stop. Although she doesn't care because she knows that she's cewl :D (Or maybe not...)

Greasers:

On rare occasions, she can be seen next to Greasers. Seems like she is on good terms with Lucky and Ricky, probably cuz she's quite good at understanding bikes and their repairs. But at the same time she's a little clumsy and therefore often makes mistakes in the shop class. Other greasers, in turn, treat her neutrally, even knowing that she is on good terms with the Townies. But since she's still not a Townie, cuz she's is a student at the school, they just don't care about her, and think of her as something like "come on she's just a weirdo what she can do to us lol" and they will be right

Townies:

In her free time from school she usually hang out with Townies, directly because her brother is a member of this clique, and thats why she is on pretty good terms with them. She is also good friends with Zoe, Their relationship can be called almost sisterly, although Zoe often likes to playfully tease Charlie a little. But still, they are something like besties :D

Preppies:

And finally, she has a mutual hatred for preppies. They treat her as badly as they treat everyone below their class. They also find her weird and often make fun of her, that's why she often gets into daily squabbles with them. In fact, Pinkie especially likes to make fun of her.

Some random shit:

- She stinks like something is burning

- She actually has green pupils, but I draw them black to make her look, um... more cartoony?

- was quite a cruel child

Voice claim:

any oc interactions are welcome c:

[aspenlovesmedia]

So, I love Archivist Sasha obviously since I am litterally writing a whole fic based on that, but I also like to think about what would happen if Tim or Martin became the Archivist instead. I actually have au ideas for both, but I wanted to talk a bit about it in general.

Jon was always the perfect option (at least how he is in canon), curious and stubborn enough to look into things but also easy for Elias to manipulate.

Honestly I think out of all the s1 Archives team, Sasha is the most interesting to think about if she had gotten the job, since she has no connection to the Fears already and also Gertrude wanted her to be the next Head Archivist, which I think Elias wouldn’t like.

Tim and Martin both have problems from Elias’ standpoint, since Tim can be very unpredictable and Martin has no self preservation instinct. It’s just really interesting to me to think about what events would lead to them becoming Head Archivist to begin with, as well as what would happen afterwards.

For Shifted Gaze, the reason Sasha is chosen is because Jon’s not an option as he’s already a Web avatar, and Elias has a plan for Tim and Martin since pushing them in certain directions is actually quite easy, especially because of how Jon already being an avatar effects his relationships.

I don’t think Jon necessarily needed to be fully off the table for Elias to have chosen someone else though. I think if the job had been given to someone else, he would either do his absolute best to appease them, or would become overcome with jealousy.

Let’s face it, if Martin got the job, a s1 Jon being forced to work with him could only end badly. I don’t think he’d be so bad with Tim though. Like he would be jealous, but we know Jon and Tim did get on in s1, so I think he’d be obnoxious and pushy as to how he thinks things should be done, but he wouldn’t be doing it out of rage, unlike what he would be doing with Martin.

Anyway, I have a lot of thoughts on both Archivist!Tim and Archivist!Martin. I’ll probably do a posts on these at somepoint, although it will be a while until I get a chance to write them since Shifted Gaze is the priority and I don’t want to be writing all these the same time lol.

[saeist]

a/n: another ua student!touya ft. hawks and mirko as his classmates!! + basing this "long eyelashes" debacle from the fact his eyelids are a little thicker than todoroki's + it's canon that he has long lower eyelashes since it's prominent when he was young lol

"i'm jealous"

you casually drop a bomb on touya, who was currently in the kitchen eating piping hot udon.

touya's eyes widens, ultimately choking on his food. like you just didn't witness him knocking on death's door, you casually slid to the seat next to him, watching him just choke there

"being jealous is one thing, but not helping your poor boyfriend who's choking? that's a little overkill don't you think?!" touya exclaims, after regaining his own composure

instead of answering, you shrug, staring at the now pouting boy beside you

"i'm not a mind reader you know?" touya points out, catching your gaze. it's making him a little uncomfortable being put on the spot like this. last time he checked, he didn't even look at another girls direction! so what could have made you jealous?

"..."

the way you were just staring at him in silence is making him uneasy. it's almost like you were making him admit to something he didn't even do

touya racks his brain for any close encounter he had with any female today during class. maybe he accidentally brushed hands with a classmate earlier today, maybe he bumped shoulders with a third year student back at lunch rush, maybe he made eye contact with another girl for a split second on accident when he was scanning the hallways for you

his mind ends up dating back at lunch where you two were having lunch with your two other friends being keigo and rumi

wait a second.. could it be rumi?

"is it rumi? but i thought you two were best friends so you were cool with us messing around with chicken little back there at the cafeteria? if it is rumi then i'll try not to interact with her that much if it makes you jealous, i'm sorry, doll. forgive me" touya rambles, suddenly getting on his knees and bowing down to (almost) kiss your feet

your eyebrows shot up at the mention of your best friend

"what are you rambling about? of course not! i'm not jealous over her, dummy" you finally break your silence. "i'm talking about your eyelashes"

touya's eyes widened once again. he slowly rises from your feet to shoot you a dirty look. did you really just make him kneel and kiss your feet over the thought of you being jealous over someone else when you were just jealous of his eyelashes all along?

"run that by me one more time?" touya puts his hands on his hips

you let out a fit of giggles watching his now irritated face.

"i'm jealous of your long eyelashes, touya" you grin, standing up to reach his face, cupping his cheeks as you run your thumb against his eyes

touya's eyes flutters shut, letting you touch his face this up close and personal. he won't admit it out loud but it tickles when your thumbs run through his long lower lashes

but the way his face scrunches says otherwise

"it tickles, doesn't it?" you giggle

"no? who said that?" touya denies, turning his head away to hide the impending blush that's rapidly spreading across his cheek

you can feel the cuteness aggression rushing in. you turn his head to force him to look at you. you squeeze his cheeks as you lean in until..

"if you're gonna suck faces could you guys at least do it in the privacy of your dorm rooms? ever heard of that?" keigo casually walks in with rumi on tow

"yuck" rumi gags, skipping past the two of you to get a carrot from the fridge

"i suggest you two get the fuck out of here unless you want roasted chicken and rabbit for dinner" touya growls, (softly) prying your hands off his face as he glares at his two best friends who were now running away while laughing

"so, doll.. where were we?" touya smiles softly, acting like he didn't just threaten his friends just a second ago

[spaciebabie]

see i absolutely despise jimmy (and curly) as a character(s) but as a literary freak i can appreciate the way hes used as a story device with his relationship to curly. i could type this more eloquently but currently ive had a glass of champagne and i havent drank in like 6 months so my tolerance is low so forgive my writing but. jimmy cannibalizing curly. yeah.

theres multiple messages here, theres the message that jimmy is doing what curly (assumedly) did to get into his position and, employing another metaphor, taking the "dog eat dog world" saying to heart. and literally. devouring his competition. or maybe curly didnt do that. and thats what jimmy thinks curly did and so he aims to do the same. choose whichever one you like more they're both interesting storywise.

theres the message where jimmy "consumes" curly in some twisted expression of love. devouring curly so that he remains a part of him, an expression that he is the gold star captain and something to aspire to. admiration for something he'll never be and so he chooses to consume him in order to potentially absorb some of his skill or become more like him.

and then there is curly sitting there helplessly being devoured. its something he has no say in, not something that he chose to happen to him, its something hes become swept up in. he becomes devoured by jimmy in the literal sense of cannibalism, but also in the sense that he became so absorbed in his friendship w/jimmy he ignored his wrongdoings and ultimately led to anya's assault as well as the death of the whole crew.

curly and jimmy intertwined so that one is always consumed by the other. curly in a literal sense, jimmy in a more psychological one. i mean like its really quite crazy they did the "im consumed with thoughts about this guy and want to be him so i must literally consume him" thing quite well. when examining mouthwashing's narrative you find new things to admire every time. each little story element has a place in creating a wonderfully complex and heartbreaking story. its very well done and honestly something to aspire to from the perspective of someone who enjoys studying/writing literature.

all of this is to say i think that there should be more art of jimmy covered in blood and engaging in this cannibalism like the stupid little leech he is

[marblerose-rue]

got asked to draw two of my old wc rp ocs :-) left is cicadahop, right is scallopstar

[quinn-pop]

yet another oc that only exists because i wanted to write something very specific

(middle is a little older, hence her scar healing. i like to think she gets a glass eye at some point)

anyway this is mira! (they/she) since that wip is almost 20k words and counting i won’t give away too much but long story short she’s the result of meta going “one last time, i promise” and adopting yet another kid

also galaxia kinda indirectly picked the name :)

i’ve mentioned before that i headcanon that pretty much all astrals are autistic and this is just kinda an extension of that. whereas meta tends to suppress his emotions and conform to others, mira…doesn’t. she gets uncomfortable and upset and lashes out at people easily, and working through their emotions is no small task.

the main reason i chose to write them that way was for the sake of narrative but i’ve grown attached to it because there’s a lot of ideas there i’d like to explore. stuff about navigating emotions and relationships when existing is so suffocatingly uncomfortable. it’s not something i could center around Kirby himself, but i think it makes sense with a post character development meta knight.

they are very loved (omg oldee cameo???)

kirby was definitely very excited to have younger siblings after being used to being the youngest in the room for so long!! (with the like. one and only exception being gooey.) he’s super affectionate with both of them and wants to have a close relationship one day, but for now mira is pretty unappreciative of that fact lol. they don’t like being pestered for hugs

everyone else is okay tho

(i know that’s hard to read. oops. “obvious bite marks”. siblings being siblings.)

mira also has a very love/hate relationship with the egg kid, being so close in age they kinda Have to get along but in typical sibling nature they also fight a lot. sure it’s probably rough for a while but i think in the end they’d be good buddies. maybe not as close as Kirby and Bandee but still.

anyway i have a lot of thoughts and am very busy but. i’m really enjoying writing about all this lately it’s been fun ^^

[liquidstar]

a friend who'd wait :)

[sskk-manifesto]

Ep 5!!!

[nebulousfishgills]

Reading Emily's saga from HTM to Necrosis (plus Instinct and finishing with Shades of Blue) to @bowersbubbles has been a very rewarding experience, getting real time feedback while I make her laugh, lose her shit, and cry while I swallow mucus by the mouthful since my nose has Issues.

Apologies to my much beloved roommate for having to vaguely hear me reading out loud into the 1 or even 2 AM.

[gothamsfinestdummy]

One day I might actually write an essay thing about how the reboot completely destroyed Pinky and Brain’s characters I am soooo very passionate about that subject

[eyepatchdate]

back in my td debating of 'how dark should it go'

[jinglingeyes]

Jdjdjdjdj YOUR ART IS PRETTY AND THE WAY YOU COLOR IS SO NEAT /POS

Also @ tweet

LITERAL IN MY NOTES APP LMAO

V

very conflicted and confused GNC Unlabeled AFAB (who presents more masculine) Laios is about to get married before getting emotionally fed up with everything, (humans, parents, his sister be mistreated, feeling out of place/disliked, etc) decides fuck that mess, runs away at the alter, semi-catches up with Kabru and heads straight to the dungeon to explore. Whether anyone likes it or not! While Kabru tries to befriend and understand the person they slightly underestimated (thought was boring lol) and “under” observed. Falin is having fun adventuring only to receive news that Laios is gone/missing/left from thier parents and she is immediately off to find Laios with the help of her friends

as foretold

[youremyonlyhope]

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