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#after 34 hours of pain
valoale · 6 months
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Never let me go
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bonny-kookoo · 6 months
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Jungkook
𝐒𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐎𝐥𝐝𝐞𝐫 | Christmas
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Feelings become warmer as the weather outside gets colder.
Tags/Warnings: Aged up!Jungkook, Younger!Reader, Age Gap (9 years, JK is mentioned to be 34/35), Angst, Mature romance, Jungkook's ex wife, fluff, flirty Jungkook, fluff!!, smut, Mutual masturbation, my heart is so full
Length: 4k words (oops)
There is no taglist for this fic.
-> Masterlist
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If you ask Jungkook what he’d like for Christmas, won’t the surprise be ruined?
Then again, what if he genuinely doesn’t want anything from you for such an intimate occasion? You’re not really the textbook definition of a couple after all, the dreaded ‘L’ word having never been spoken, so maybe that’s moving too quickly too soon.
Maybe just some sweets? But he seems rather conscious about his physique, maybe he won’t eat it because it doesn’t fit his diet or something. Wait, does he even diet? How come you never thought about that?
You whine loudly in your apartment, letting your head fall into your arms on the table as your laptop offers you no advice on what to do these days. Every question that’s similar to you always includes the mention of a sugar daddy situation or whatnot, or their partners are more than twenty years apart in age, and that’s just not your problem. Jungkook isn’t.. really your sugar daddy or anything. Sure he's been paying your rent, but he’s been doing that because he wants to- you’re offering him nothing in return, and neither does he ask for something.
What are you two, really?
Is he getting you something for Christmas? He seems awfully busy these days after having returned to work from his accident, despite doctor's advice to rest a few days longer. You’re not sure why he was so eager, but you guess that that’s just who he is.
You could ask Taehyung, but that guy could never keep a secret even if held at gunpoint. One stern look from his friend and he’d spill your plan, you’re sure of it- so who else could you ask?
You wonder if Evelyn ever got him anything for Christmas. You’d love to know just to have at least some sort of measurement to go for- but then again, maybe that’s not the best idea to get inspiration from his ex wife.
Something’s heard from your bathroom. You frown.
The moment you open it, water greets you- old washing machine having given up for real now this time, as it’s got just about half an hour left of the current program running, water seeping out from the side of the door. You quickly shut it off, ripping the plug out from the socket on the wall to at least not make an even worse mess, socks soaking up the soapy smelling water.
Great.
At least your mind’s been taken off of your earlier predicament by that.
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Jungkook sighs as he leans back in his office chair, reading over the schedules and meetings again and again. He needs to make sure everything’s alright before he announces his plans to the rest of the company, not wanting to cause trouble for the new year just because of his own selfish reasons.
His secretary brings in a few signed documents, smiling kindly. “everyone’s on board with the dates.” She offers, and Jungkook nods, taking the documents to check the signatures.
“Thank you. Could you file them for me?” he asks, and she nods as always, taking them back.
“and, your uhm.. Miss Evelyn is in the lobby again, asking for you.” She cringes out a smile, making Jungkook groan in dramatized pain as he throws his head back, flinching a bit from the sudden move.
“What the hell does she want?” He whines, making his secretary send him a shrug.
“she refused to tell, as always.” She sighs. “demanded to see you.”
“And I’m about to demand a restraining order..” he mumbles to himself, pinching the bridge of his nose. “send her up. We both know she’s not going to leave on her own accord.” He waves off, and his secretary bows politely before she disappears out of his office.
The second Evelyn enters, he’s feeling odd again. Like he’s just even more agitated to see her than normal.
“Why did you change the pass code on our apartment?” she demands to know, and Jungkook frowns harshly at that.
“Because you no longer live there, nor have any right to enter.” He explains. “what were you doing there in the first place?”
“You said I could have my Christmas party there?” she huffs, crossing her arms.
“I said that last year, because I was not in the country anyways. “ He sighs.
“so?” she wonders, caught off guard.
“so?” He parrots. “this year I’m spending Christmas home. And I no longer need the apartment- its been up for sale since June.”
“But I need it? And you shouldn’t be alone on Christmas anyways, you could’ve attended the party.” She says, walking closer now. “I know we no longer-“
“Who said I’m spending it alone?” He asks, arms crossed to block her off, leaving back in his office chair. “Evelyn, I’ve moved on. You should do the same.”
“You can’t be serious with that kid.” She scoffs. “Jungkook do you know how ridiculous you look? They’re talking about you, you know?” she complains.
“who? Your friends?” He asks. “as if they didn’t talk about me before.”
“That’s different.” She shakes her head. “You’re in your late thirties, Jungkook. She’s what, twenty? Is she even legal?” she laughs, but Jungkook doesn’t bite the bait.
She’s got no business with you.
“I can assure you that our relationship is that of two consenting adults.” He makes sure to pronounce. “and what I do or who I’m doing what with, is none of your business, and it hasn’t been since we divorced. A choice that you happily agreed to, might I add.” He says, hitting a sore spot for her. “I ask you to leave me alone one last time, Evelyn.”
“or what.” She sneers, leaning on his table now.
“the next time you overstep a boundary, no matter which, I will be speaking to you through legal means.” He simply answers. “if I can’t get through you, maybe my lawyer can.” He shrugs off.
“Jungkook I know we ended on not so great terms, but this is stupid.” She begs. “I told you we could try again-“
“Evelyn I’m in a relationship with this woman because I want to, not because I’m in some strange crisis over the loss of you.” He hisses. “not everything is always about you, get it through your head.” He shakes his head, before he gets up to open the door of his office. “and now leave. Or I will have someone help you with that.”
It's quiet, even some of the staff outside looking anxiously as to what’s about to happen, when Evelyn walks into the doorframe.
“I hope you come to your senses soon.” She sighs, disappointed. “before you hurt another woman.” She says, before she leaves, heels loud on the floor as they disappear along with her, leaving him to close his office, and sit back down.
He's not hurting you. He’d never.
He knows he’s been very lenient with Evelyn even long after they divorced, but that was because he truly didn’t care anymore. It didn’t matter, but these days, it does. He doesn’t want her in his life anymore, because that spot she was taking up is now filled with you-
And you fit it so much better than her.
He takes his phone out to call you- a strange urgency inside of him to hear your voice right now as the call is sent out, waiting to be picked up by you. When you do, you sound out of breath. “Hey.” You say, and he chuckles.
“You sound busy.” He greets. “is it a bad time?” He asks, and you don’t answer for a second.
“A little? Not really.” You sigh. “honestly I could use the distraction.” You laugh.
“What’s wrong?” He wonders, signing out of his work laptop.
“my washing machine broke. There’s soap everywhere!” You whine. “my apartment smells like a laundry service.” You complain.
“Is it bad?” He asks, shutting the lid of his laptop. “I can come over in like, half an hour and help you clean up. Did you turn it off?” He worries, getting up to walk over and turn off the AC.
“Yeah I.. pulled the plug in a panic.” You answer. “and no, it’s not… that bad, just my bathroom flooded, it’s already draining.” You sigh. “don’t worry.”
“Hm, too late.” He teases. “I’ll come over as soon as I get out of here, okay?” He asks.
“Alright, but I’m not letting you do much anyways.” You say. “I’m still upset you went to work already.”
“I know.” He agrees, looking out the tall windows for a moment. “thank you for worrying about me.”
It’s quiet for a moment, and he’s wondering if you hung up- when you answer, softly.
“of course.” You say. “that’s what.. you know.. people like us do.” You say.
“people like us?” He wonders.
“Yeah. People who.. like each other.” You tell him.
“I think our feelings extend that of.. liking a little, don’t you think?” He chuckles.
“Maybe?” You ask. “I’m not sure. Like, I feel.. a lot more than just like I like you, but, you know..”
“I’ve not been very clear, haven’t I.” He sighs. “I’m sorry. I’m.. a bit out of practice you could say.” He apologizes.
“No, no its fine.” You wave him off. “just… we’ll figure it out, I’m sure.” You encourage- both of you, in a way.
“I’m sure of that too.” He agrees. “text me what you’d like to eat later. I’ll pick up some food on the way over to you.” He offers.
“Will you stay over?” You wonder.
“Do you want me to?” He asks.
“…yes.” You answer, for the first time actually requesting something from him. “I want you to stay.” You say, and he can feel his heart beat faster, louder.
“Then I’ll stay.” He answers.
Unaware that after you end the call, you’re squealing into your hands like a teenage girl, while he hides his face behind his own hand, a little overwhelmed by it all.
This truly feels like love.
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“The sealing around the door has become loose.” Jungkook mentions as he inspects the old machine for what might’ve caused the soapy disaster, sleeves of his white button up rolled up to his elbows as he finds the issue. “You can just buy a new one, but to be honest, I’d rather you have an entirely new machine.” He shakes his head, leaning back on his heels where he sits on the bathroom floor. “this thing is over ten years old.”
“But they’re expensive..” you huff. “and it’s still working though?” You wonder.
“Sure, but it’s not efficient. It’s too costly to run it.” He shrugs. “what you’re saving in not getting a new one, you basically throw out every time you use it.” He explains. “I’ll buy you a new one, it’s really no big deal.” Jungkook offers as he gets up, moving to dry his hands with a towel. “For now you can wash your stuff at my house. I don’t mind at all.”
You wonder. Does he really not mind?
You’ve only spent a little less than a week at his house, but it felt a little strange. Like he was a guest in his own home the entire time. He didn’t know where certain things were, other stuff like cooking utensils seemed way too new to be used.
“What’re you thinking about?” He wonders, walking up to you to move your hands, lifting them onto his shoulders in a request to have you hug him. His own palms find their resting place on your waist, swaying you a little to the slow beat of the TV playing a Christmas commercial.
“Nothing.” You deny, hands moving to play with the short hairs on his neck.
“liar.” He accuses. “What’s on your mind?”
“Christmas?” You burst out, before you shake your head, Jungkook looking at you a bit confused. “I- I mean, do you want to.. maybe spend, you know, a day of Christmas with me?” You ask, meekly so, averting eye contact. “we could I don’t know.. bake something or..” fuck, you think. Baking?! How childish is that-
“I’d love to.” He answers, an oddly shy grin on his face as he looks at you with eyes sparkling. “I’ve never done that before.” He admits.
“never?” You ask, and he shakes his head. “what do you.. how do you usually spend Christmas?” You ask, and he shrugs.
“I don’t.”
What?
“Evelyn held her Christmas parties, but I’m not a very social guy. So I usually worked during the holidays to escape the whole trouble.” He chuckles.
“Oh.” You simply say, unsure now. You didn’t really think about the possibility of him not wanting to celebrate Christmas at all.
“But, I’d like to have a.. quiet Christmas.” He says suddenly, stepping closer to you. “with you.”
“Oh?” You wonder, finding his gaze again.
“If you’ll have me, that is.” He shrugs. “I’m not upset if you say it’s.. too fast too soon.”
Your lips part-
Before you laugh, tearfully, hiding in his chest as you begin to cry a little. He’s not sure what’s wrong, all he can offer a hand in your back as he lets you calm down.
“I’m sorry- I don’t know why I’m crying.” You laugh, wiping your eyes. “its just- I was.. I was thinking the same. The whole week.” You confess, tired of keeping it all in. “I was stressing- I want to, I want to do so many things now because I feel like I finally have a person to do them with, but I’m worried I might be doing too much now and-“
“Hey.” He says, helping you breathe for a second as he holds your face, cheeks in his palms. “Thank you so much.” He answers.
“..what?” You wonder, sniffling.
“For telling me. For.. trusting me.” He simply answers, wiping your tears. “I thought christmas presents are meant to be given on the 24th?” He chuckles, and you laugh along.
“I was actually wondering what to get you.. if you even want anything..” you shrug, looking down now.
“it really doesn’t matter.” He confesses. “You can simply.. spend that day with me, and I’m happy.”
“But, can I give you a present?” you ask, and he nods.
“if you want to, of course.” He accepts. “I.. actually have a bit of a confession of my own.” He laughs a bit shy now, sitting down on the couch with you. “I’ve worked a bit overtime. To.. do something special, not just for us, but the company as well.” He shrugs. “and you’re the main reason for it.
“Huh?” You wonder, as he opens his phone, showing some of his emails coming in.
All of them are replies to a Company schedule he’s sent out- and all of the preview texts are a variation of gratitude towards it.
“I’ve given most of the company the option to take the holidays off.” He says. “it’s not much- just the last two weeks of December, but.. it felt right.”
“How am I the reason for that?” You wonder.
“You made me realize that there’s.. things more important than work sometimes.” He shrugs, locking his phone to put it on the small coffee table. “I have so many fathers and mothers in my company. Just because I didn’t have children, or a family or just a single person to spend those days with, I never thought about them potentially needing those days off.” He shakes his head. "and if I take those days off to be with.. my own family, why not give them the option as well?” He offers. “it’s only Fair.”
“Do you never visit your parents?” You ask, unsure.
“not really. I didn’t want them to.. ask questions.” He chuckles. “when are the grandkids coming, why is your wife never here, all that.” He laughs. “Eve.. never visited my family much.”
“That sounds like she never really cared much about the holidays.” You mumble.
“She did.” Jungkook denies. “she just didn’t care about me.”
For a moment, you’re quiet- before you jump over your shadow, boldly leaning over to peck his lips, making him almost chase after you a little.
“Well, I care about you.” You confess-
And at that, he truly can’t help but lean over to kiss you properly, eagerly, to make up for the lack of words he’s able to find.
Whatever this is, he no longer cares. He just wants to keep it close, never lose it, bind you to him and have you sheltered in his own home to never have to face any bad things the world seems to throw your way ever again.
“I care about you too.” He breathes against your lips, keeping you close, hands on your waist happily welcoming you onto his lap. It’s the first time he’s seemingly demanding now- taking the upper hand as he encourages the movements of your hips grinding on him with a bit of hesitance.
He'd love to take you, right now, right here- but he also doesn’t have any protection with him.
Maybe he should always have one on hand when meeting you. His hunger is starting to grow with each time he has you, after all. “we don’t.. “ you breathlessly try and argue, as he leans hisnhead into the crook of your neck, kissing the skin. “I have no-“
“Figured.” He chuckles. “Do you want to stop?” He asks, leaning back to look at you.
“I mean.. we have to..” you shrug, and he can see the slight disappointment in your face as you try and adjust yourself.
“Not really.” He shrugs. “There’s more to sex than.. just that, after all.” He suggests, and you look at him, before your eyes can’t help but travel a bit, unsure. Of course he’d be more experienced than you- he’s got a lot more time to have been fooling around after all, and you’re not at all upset at that-
You’re just a bit.. pressured now. What if he thinks you’re boring if he realizes that your past sexual experiences have been.. standard at best?
“don’t feel like you have to.” He makes sure to tell you, and you nod.
“I do want to.” You confess, and even thought you can’t look at him, he still thinks it’s a huge step for you to even reveal this. “I just.. it’s like the Christmas situation, you know?” You shrug. “I want to do so much but, I also worry I might be overwhelming, or that I screw things up and then you got excited for nothing-“
“Hey.” He chuckles, holding your face in his hands again, pecking your lips. “let’s agree that we will probably not get everything right all the time.” He tells you. “we’ll both screw up. I’ll do something that going to make you upset, you’ll do something that’ll make me upset. That’s called living together.” He laughs. “But I’m convinced that we’ll figure it out.”
“Why?” You ask, looking at him- surprised to see his eyes swimming with emotions, not used to seeing him so vulnerable.
“Because I want to believe.” He answers, voice barely anything above a whisper.
And it makes you realize that it’s not just you who got attached. He’s obviously just as invested in you as you are in him, and maybe, just maybe, you’ve never really thought about that. About his worries, what he might fear, what he struggles with. For you, he’s always been that person who has full control over everything.
But can you control who you fall in love with?
“Then..” you adjust your position a little, before you start to play with the buttons of his shirt. “I’ll believe in it, too.”
The kiss you’re offering is gentle, it’s a promise given, and also something more than that. You’re giving yourself to him with this, trusting him to both care for you- but also accepting his trust to handle him with just as much care. You feel sorry for not understanding his situation sooner, but you do now- and it makes a lot of things look a lot less scary.
Living together means making mistakes. And loving each other means working through those mistakes.
You’re moved by his hands to sit on his thigh instead, hips moving over the muscles beneath his pants, while your hands have undone his shirt by now, causing him to shiver a bit, both from the cool touch of your fingers, but also from the gentle manner in which you treat him.
He feels valued. Cherished.
Loved.
The moment your hand undoes his belt to gain access to what’s beneath, his kisses grow more heated, needy almost, his own hands guiding your hips over his leg. But he needs more, moves your legs again to straddle him once more, one of his hands easily slipping into your underwear to find you more than just a little affected.
There’s frustration in him. A need.
He really needs to start carrying a condom around for situations like this.
And it’s obvious this stress is shared by you, if the expression you have and the way you shamelessly run into his fingers are anything to go by. But it’ll have to do, he doesn’t want to risk things, and considering that he’ll spend Christmas with you anyways, it’s not like this is the last time he’ll ever see you.
And he can’t deny that your hands make him feel good enough already.
Mostly because it’s yours that touch him- the emotional connection you both have established at this point making him feel even more sensitive to every form of affection you offer. He feels comfortable and frankly safe enough to let himself fall into your arms freely- trusting you enough that you’ll catch him, just as much as he’d always catch you.
Your hands aren’t even on him- his underwear still between your fingers and his very obvious election, and yet he’s sure he could cum from this alone. You’re clearly chasing your own high as well by now, head leaned on his shoulder, soft whines beneath your heavy breaths causing him to twitch in your hands.
It's when two fingers slip inside you that you become restless, hands on him moving with more urgency as he plays your body like an instrument he’s been professionally trained in. Thumb flicking over your sensitive bud, slick making an almost obscene sound, but it oddly adds to the intimacy of it all.
This is your moment. No one can take this from you.
Your hands stutter a bit in their movements as you reach your peak, but you push though nonetheless to push him over the edge as well- a very particular movement as your fingers trace his outline making him spill, seed staining the fabric of his underwear a darker shade of its grey color.
It's quiet as you catch your breaths, his hand lazily wiping itself on your cotton shorts.
“You want to come to my place for tonight?” He whispers, slowly calming down again.
“Cause you need to change?” You tease, and he chuckles.
“That too.” He admits. “but mostly because I don’t want to sleep without you tonight.” He tells you, leaning over to kiss your cheek. “we could.. uhm. You know, the stores are still open.” He mumbles a bit more hesitant now, as you open your eyes to look at him. “if you.. want to help decorate the house with me.” He tells you almost incoherently.
Just for you to grin brightly, giggling happily into the crook of his neck.
“I’d love to.”
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sugucidal · 11 months
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# HOW TO SEDUCE YOUR NEIGHBOR 101 !!
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CHAPTER i. [3k words]
୨୧‬┊pairing: toji fushiguro x fem! reader
୨୧‬┊synopsis: with winter break having rolled around the corner, you’ve decided to spend it with your family back at home. it felt nice being back after 2 years away at university. you just wish your mom had told you that a certain guest was visiting. one that you hadn’t expected to ever have to face again.
୨୧‬┊warnings: fluff! + age gap (reader is 19 and toji is 34) + taboo content (cause what’re u doin tryna get tojis middle aged ass in ur bed smh) + slice of life kind of (??) + suggestiveness + humor + reader is in her winter bimbo era + toji is…toji. + no smut yet sorryy + slight slowburn + everything is legal! no ones going to jail!
୨୧‬┊a/n: first chapter woohooo !!! second chapter will finally be coming out on [redacted] <3
‪MAIN POST | part i. > part ii. > part iii.
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Tugging at the sleeves of your jacket further down your hands, you let out an exhale, nerves set ablaze. The typical cool spring air was colder than usual this particular night out, sun having already set and moon shining up into the dark, starry sky.
Fiddling with the hem of your mini skirt, you gazed up, doe eyes glinting heatedly up at the man you've harbored adoration towards.
You were finally gonna confess.
"I want you."
The simple words that held so much weight filled the space between you both.
A sigh in response. Oh no. You already knew what was coming, but you hoped to any deity or god from above that it wouldn't turn out this way.
"Kid, you're way too young for me." The smoke blowing past his lips wafted through the stiff air, his scar pulling at the corner of his mouth in dismay. "If you were older maybe I'd consider it. Wouldn't bet on it though, since you're such a pain in the ass to deal with."
You let his words hang momentarily, trying to come up with a sufficient rebuttal. You knew he was only playing when he said you were a pain to deal with but it still stung your heart to hear it coming from him. But you weren't gonna give up that easily. You've had a crush on this man ever since he moved into the neighborhood years ago!
What started out as innocent puppy love slowly built its way into this desire, stemmed deep at the heart the older you got. You'd watch as he invited women into his home late into the hours of the night, clinging onto him like a leech in a body of lakewater. God, how you wish it was you he'd have brought into his home on those late nights. Lustfully gazing down at you with promises of this being the best you'll ever have, one you'd be thinking back on until the day you die.
He knew exactly just how much you craved for his touch. It wasn't hard to see that he felt the same, you could see it in the way he'd glance in your direction whenever you purposely wore something revealing, hoping to catch his eye. He told you that you shouldn't wear things like that at your age around men, that they were dangerous, intentions impure. As if he wasn't one of those men he was warning you about. But despite it all, he always looked the other way. Kept a boundary of barbed wire up, no way of climbing through. Frankly, it was annoying.
You hate when people play hard to get.
"So...you mean once I'm 18, you'll take up my offer?" If he couldn't get with you because you were 'too young' then surely he'd concede if you were legally an adult...right?
"Not exactly what I said, but sure," Taking one last final drag of his cigar, he stomped it out onto the pavement, sharp eyes gazing at you discerningly one last time before turning the other way.
"Whatever gets you off my case."
That was the last time you spoke with Toji and almost 2 years have gone by since then. The rejection after the confession hurt no doubt, but the avoidance of Toji towards you afterwards, hurt like salt to a fresh wound.
You rarely saw him after that, suddenly out for weeks to months at a time for work. Sometimes he'd come by when he was free and have idle chats with your parents any time they saw him down the neighborhood. Not bothering to spare a polite greeting or glance in your direction whenever you were present. What used to be a strong bond between family friend and their doting daughter, having met him at an early age, quickly turned awkward and tense, distance overtaking whatever there once was.
You regret talking to him that night every single day.
Unfortunately, you couldn't bring back the past and fix your fuck up. On the other hand, the days of being immature and bratty were long gone. Having been replaced by someone more mature and less dense.
Living off pre-packaged noodles and staying up till 6 am finishing up assignments for your university classes due the next hour, does that to a person you suppose.
Now with winter break finally having rolled around the corner, you were able to get that good night's sleep your exhausted ass had been craving for. And the home cooked meals your mother had waiting for you was certainly appreciated as well.
Lugging your bags up the front steps to your parents' quaint home, you took a quick look at the classic 'welcome home' mat under your feet that you were sure still hid a key underneath. Lifting the corner of the mat your suspicions were confirmed.
You'd think they'd realize how unsafe this could be one of these days.
Before you could place the key through the silver lock, you were instead met with the distinct sound of hard, oak wood doors being unlocked and swung open.
"Baby, you're finally home! Get in quickly, come on now." Your mother hastily ushered you in, calling over your father to help carry your bags further inside the warmth of your home. The key you held was quickly dropped on the small table near the entrance, and the door kicked shut. The signature smell of a vanilla sugar cookie candle being burnt filled your nostrils, the rest wafting through the air. Anyone would think your family baked with the way they always seem to choose that particular scent regardless of season or weather. Further glancing around, you watched your family's pet cat prance towards you, its furry face wide eyed and complaining to be held. You swear he acted like a dog sometimes.
Guess some things never change.
You just hoped that would've stayed true for a certain someone.
Before you had any more time to dwell on it, you were taken out of your thoughts by the mention of the name you had barely begun to ponder over.
'Speak of the devil', you sighed.
Walking over to the living area, you followed your father picking up your cat on the way, butting in, "Hm? what was that?"
"You remember Toji right?" Nodding your head, your father continued. "We invited him over for dinner tonight."
You paused in your step. "What? Why?" The confusion in your voice was surely noticed. You couldn't exactly say you were unhappy, hell you felt giddy at just the mention of his name, but you were still hung up on the past and weren't ready to face the man that blew off your poor naive, little heart. If you saw his handsome face in person again that's been embarrassingly haunting your dazed mind whenever you're busy writhing and whining atop your soft, cozy sheets—at that dinner table, you might just take the 2 hour car ride back to campus dorms.
You were just a pussy like that. One that couldn't face the culprit of those lingering feelings that had never ceased to falter throughout the years, dead in the eye.
The two quietly glanced at each other at your sudden change in demeanor, eyebrows raised. Before he could continue your mom piped up first, "What do you mean by 'why'? You haven't seen each other in so long. He misses you and I'm sure you two would like to catch up."
"Misses you" You swear your heart might've actually stopped beating. In what world would Toji Fushiguro have missed their friends young daughter after being told straight to their face that they wanted him to fuck her.
"He..misses me?" It sounded a little unbelievable saying it outloud.
"Mhm, after you left for University he asked about you a couple times, wondering when you'd be back to visit," Turning around to walk into the kitchen to get started on dinner, she smiled over her shoulder at you once more, "You must've really left an impression on him."
Nervously laughing you settled your cat down, watching him stride over to sip some water from his bowl.
"Yeah..quite some impression alright."
- - - - - - - - - - ୨♡୧ - - - - - - - - - -
Okay. Okay it's fine. Yeah you haven't seen him in years but it's fine! He's just coming over for dinner. You'll greet him with a friendly smile, he'll ask how you've been- or shit, maybe he won't. Maybe he'll just ignore you again like he's already done. Toji mentioning to your parents that he misses you was probably just a misunderstanding and he meant to say the weather has been misty- yeah. Totally plausible.
"What the hell am I doing.." Taking a once-over to look yourself in the mirror, you just finished applying the finishing touches to your makeup, wiping off any excess gloss at the corner of your lips with a q-tip for a sharp finish. Was the gloss necessary given the fact that it was going to be smudged off during dinner anyway?
The answer was yes. Yes It was.
Just because you were having a small dinner that was probably gonna be awkward as hell with a man you've been wanting- didn't want to see, shouldn't mean you couldn't at least look cute.
A sudden faint sound of muffled talking took you out your inner monologue. Putting away your array of makeup displayed on the varnished wood countertop of your vanity, you walked over to the door pressing an ear against it trying to discern what was being said.
'Hm sounds like there's someone else down there..' quietly poking a head out into the hallway you just barely made out a deep yet familiar voice before quickly being startled by your mother calling out your name.
"Hon, come down and greet Toji!"
Fuck. "C–Coming!" straightening up, you calmed your blazing nerves, mentally preparing yourself for the onslaught of awkward tension that your parents luckily knew nothing of. Bless their complete oblivion.
Walking out into the hallway and down the stairs your eyes immediately locked onto Tojis, gaze shyly looking away and focusing onto nothing in particular. You were better off staring at something near him than at him directly.
Approaching towards where they stood, you tried your best to look as confident as possible. You're a woman now. Not some doe. At least that's what you feel like telling yourself at this moment, as you pick at your nails. Standing straighter, you stood next to your parents, watching as they finished up their talk.
You haven't had a proper conversation with Toji since, well...that night. Not counting the usual greetings you had exchanged with him in the past when you saw each other after. If you could even call it that. If a glance of bare acknowledgement was considered a greeting, then sure. Yet here you were right in front of him, determined to set things right. You had to confront him, it was the only way you'd be able to heal the wound of the past and maybe, even let go.
But first, you'll have to actually talk to him.
Deciding to finally look up at Toji, you were able to make out his features more clearly. He hadn't changed much since you last saw him, still very much tall, and his ever so brooding presence never waned. His jaw was somehow even more defined than before, and he was still rocking the same haircut as he always did.
If it ain't broke, don't fix it I guess.
Overall, he looked good. Better. The best. As he most likely always will be in your eyes.
And you're so lost in your own thoughts that you don't even notice Toji looking down at you in the corner of his eye, trying to hold back a smirk that's beginning to creep up. Silly you, ogling him so openly in front of your own parents. Not like they bothered to ever notice though.
Hearing the three of them laugh about something pulled you away from your stupor, and your attention was immediately latched onto Toji who was the first to speak.
Hopefully he didn't notice you being a creep.
"It's been a while, huh? You still remember me?" You know he's only teasing by asking if you still "remembered" him. The old you would've sassed him up for asking something silly like that, but you don't know if its a good idea to get ahead of yourself and start pulling on his leg this early on.
So you opt for the safest response.
With a polite smile on your lips, you shrugged your shoulders, "Of course. It hasn't been that long."
Toji stared at you for a moment. Shit. Did he not like that answer..?
Then you felt something warm come into contact with the top of your head; it was Toji's hand. Toji was petting you. Or more like ruffling your hair—same difference.
"You barely changed."
You exhaled a breath you didn't even know you were holding. A moment longer in silence and you don't think you'd be able to hold back the urge to run back up those stairs, slam the door shut behind you, and scream into your pillow.
Why were you so nervous!? You're never nervous when it comes to Toji.
'What's up with me??''
Regardless, you felt yourself being left annoyed at his comment. Disappointed that he probably still saw you as some kid despite not certainly looking or being one at all for that matter.
Too bad you didn't realize he meant it in a different way.
Even if you tried to hide it, Toji could still make out the way you held your hands behind your back, most likely fidgeting with your nails. Seems you've changed, the thought amusing him. The old you he knew would've pounced on him by now, batting your lashes, staring up starry eyed thinking you were being discreet about it.
Nothing gets past him, especially not when you make it so obvious. One thing that hasn't changed though, are the clothes you seemed to purposely wear around him, and him only.
The moment he saw you walk down those stairs, he knew you had him wrapped around your finger all over again. The too short skirt and see-through slip on you adorned leaving almost nothing to the imagination, if not for the cream colored cardigan you wore hiding the slivers of skin, leaving him wanting more of what was underneath.
'What a damn tease..' But Tojis eyes averted by the time your parents noticed your descend towards them. He didn't exactly want them seeing him ogle their daughter so openly.
Before any one of you could say anything more, your mother cut the greetings short. "Great, now that we're all finished reuniting again, let's start eating before the food gets cold."
Walking a little ways behind you, Toji catched the way your hips swayed as you walked. Whether you were doing it intentionally or not, he couldn't say for sure.
But one thing he was sure about, is that you were going to give him one hell of a hard time.
- - - - - - - - - - ୨♡୧ - - - - - - - - - -
The rest of dinner went by quickly. Once you were all seated, your parents and Toji had no problem talking with each other. They were busy discussing something, but your mind was too occupied to actually listen in on what they were saying. Too busy playing around with the food on your plate as your mind ran aimlessly, and foot twitching anxiously.
The night could've been worse. Really, it could've. Sure you haven't made any progress yet, but you'll get there! Overall, nothing particular happened. Except for one thing.
Toji couldn't stop looking at you.
- - - - - - - - - - ୨♡୧ - - - - - - - - - -
Before you knew it, dinner had come to an end. Toji had already taken his leave and bid you all a 'thanks for the meal' and a goodbye. Finally. Now you can slip away to your room, wipe off your makeup, and lay awake in your bed as you regret everything you could've said and done tonight but didn't without anyone noticing–
"Where do you think you're going?" There stood your mom, looking at you expectantly. Were you missing something?
"To my room, why?"
"Didn't you hear at dinner?"
'Was I supposed to hear something at dinner?'
"No, hear what exactly?"
"Tomorrow, you're going out to buy some decorations for a party we're having."
A beat of silence. Your eyebrows were furrowed in confusion as you wondered why the hell you would be having a party.
"Mom… I appreciate that you want to host a welcome back party for me, but there's really no need to." It's sweet that they missed you this much, but you weren't one for parties that were centered around you.
She laughed. "No, no, not a party for you. I know you don't like that kinda stuff,"
Oh. Nevermind then.
"Our annual winter get together. We do it every year with the rest of the neighborhood and we're the ones hosting this time. Have all those cup noodles gotten to your head and you suddenly forgot?" She shook her head in disappointment.
Low blow, mom.
"I didn't forget! I just...didn't know you'd be the ones doing it this year."
"If you were actually paying attention at dinner then you'd have heard."
"Sorry. So, tomorrow you want me to go out and buy decor right? Cool, I'll go after lunch."
Thinking that was the end of that, you began to trudge your way towards the staircase. Already almost at the top when your mother called out to you once more.
"Oh! and Toji's accompanying you."
Yup, definitely going to scream into your pillow tonight.
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exitpursuedbyavulcan · 4 months
Text
Waiting for You
A Michael Gavey Drabble
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Author’s Note: I guess I’m doing drabbles now? This came to me when I was in my third meeting in a row that covered the same information we got in meeting #1 lol
Summary: It’s the evening of your first date with Michael Gavey, but a phone call with your mum lasted way longer than it should have and now you’re running a little bit late. Unfortunately, you forgot your phone at your dorm, so you have no way of letting Michael know.
Waiting for You
7:15
That was the time you had agreed to meet Michael at the pub. He was completely certain about that - he’d written it in his planner, the calendar on the wall of his dorm, and his Yahoo calendar.
He looked at his watch again.
7:23
Being a few minutes late made sense, he thought. You didn’t have a car, and public transportation can be somewhat unreliable on weekends. But now, you were nearly ten minutes late. Even with imprecise bus timings, that seemed like a lot.
It certainly seemed long enough for Michael’s mind to start spiraling.
Maybe you had forgotten. Maybe you got on the wrong bus. Maybe the bus had a mechanical failure, or was stuck in unavoidable traffic.
The longer he stood there, hands shoved into the pockets of his trousers as he stared at the pavement outside the pub, the more far-fetched his thoughts became.
Maybe a faculty member had suddenly needed your help and you couldn’t say no. Maybe your bud had been in an accident. Maybe you’d been kidnapped somehow.
Maybe…
7:28
Maybe you’d realized you didn’t actually want to go out with him.
Why would you? After his outburst in the dining hall at the beginning of the year, he was infamous within your college. Everyone knew the creepy maths nerd who’d made a fool of himself on the first day.
It made perfect sense that you wouldn’t want to be seen with him. What if the essence of his social pariah-dom would rub off on you somehow, and people started treating you the way they treated him?
You wouldn’t want that. He wouldn’t want that for you.
Ditching him would be the smart move. After all, it had apparently worked well for Oliver Quick, the cunt. Maybe if you abandoned him as well, you’d also get an invite to Felix Carton’s estate for the summer. For all he knew, it was a requirement.
7:34
It had been stupid of him to even think you’d want to go out with him.
You were popular and well-liked. You were gorgeous. You were smart. All things that should have wiped Michael off your radar entirely.
But you were also kind. You were friendly to him. You talked to him.
When he asked if you wanted to study with him, you’d said yes. When he asked to exchange phone numbers, you’d said yes. And when he asked you out on a date - this date - you’d said yes.
The memory returned, even as he tried to shove it away. When he asked Oliver if he would get him another pint, he’d said yes, too.
Then, he’d abandoned him.
7:41
Apparently, this was just what happened to Michael. He found someone he liked, thought they liked him, too, then was left behind when something better turned up.
It had happened many times before, and would probably happen many times in the future.
Michael bit hard on the inside of his cheek, hoping the pain would chase away the monumental feeling of loneliness that threatened to overtake him. He should just go back to his dorm. It was pathetic to wait out here for this long. He should -
7:44
“Michael!”
He looked up and saw you running toward him, your cheeks flushed as you pushed through the crowd. When you finally stopped in front of him, panting from exertion, you grimaced slightly. He braved himself for what you would say.
“I am so, so sorry I’m late!” You said breathlessly. “My mum called, and she could talk for hours and hours if she wanted, and I tried to tell her I had to leave, but she wouldn’t…”
You half-sighed, half-groaned, rubbing your hands over your face. “And then I left my phone in my room and I couldn’t tell you I was on my way, so…”
Michael stared at you blankly as you continued to explain. He had almost completely resigned himself to the fact that you weren’t coming. But here you were.
Not only had you actually come, but you had ran to him. You were trying so hard to make him see that it wasn’t intentional. You… you were still talking.
“It’s fine,” he said, halting your babbling. “I understand.”
Your smile of relief was quite possibly the prettiest thing he’d ever seen.
He laughed in awe, then tried to play it off. “My mum doesn’t know when to shut up, either.”
You laughed with him and grabbed his hand. “Still, I’m so sorry. You’ve been waiting here, probably bored out of your mind, and…”
“Nah,” he shrugged, “it’s all forgotten now.” Indeed, he could hardly remember the panicked train of thought he’d been on for the last half hour. “Thank you - for coming, I mean.”
You smiled again. “Of course! I’ve been looking forward to this.”
Without giving him time to respond, you pulled him into the pub, both of you now laughing. “Since I was late, I’m paying!”
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pupkashi · 6 months
Text
gojo satoru masterlist !
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* fluff ^ angst
— all for my angel boy <3
main masterlist
* boyfriend!gojo hcs
* rainy evenings
in which gojo gets himself caught in the rain
* christmas cuddles
gojo finds his place in the universe
* arcades
arcades are scams, he knows, but dammit gojo will win you that prize
* flowers
gojo is a self-certified flower enthusiast
* periods
gojo is an angel on earth when you get your period
* sugar rush ride
gojo loves sugar, and you’re too sweet to resist
* priorities
gojo has his priorities straight: you’ll always be the most important
* rough day
gojo will always cheer you up after a rough day
* mornings
satoru loves mornings with you
* egg hunting
gojo’s never been easter egg hunting, you decide it’s time for the famous bunny to pay him a visit
* sunday love
sundays with gojo are slow and sweet
* grocery shopping headcanons
*^ jealousy, jealousy
the worst part of dating gojo? how often he gets hit on
* movie night
satoru gojo has developed a new weakness: romcoms
* migraine
gojo helps ease the pain of your migraine
* picnics
in which mother nature decides picnics are no good without a little rain
* after like
you and satoru say the L word
* my you
gojo learns he loves stargazing
* titles
in which gojo realizes you truly see him
* going to an observatory
* costume parties
* a scenic drive with him
* time
gojo will always make sure you’re taken care of
*^ hugs
“can i hug you? you look like you could do with it”
* sweet nothing
gojo always finds himself running home to you
* clean linen
gojo’s second favorite smell is your laundry detergent
* untitled
the last person you expect to patch you up is gojo satoru, so why are you knocking on his door?
* azul
when you think of love, you think of the color blue
* oranges
gojo knows how to peel oranges
* pretty boy
gojo has to let you know how much you mean to him
* sick
gojo’s favorite hobby is being your personal nurse
* scrapbooks
satoru isn’t a sentimental person, until he is
*^ nightmares
satoru has nightmares, but also long as you’re by his side he knows he’ll be okay
* easy
loving is easy when it’s gojo satoru
*^ scars
gojo learns to love the scars on his body
*^ arguments
arguments are never nice, but at least they help you grow
* birthmarks
even in his past lives, satoru was always loved
* pizza time!
or the one time satoru tries to make pizza from scratch and is effectively banned from ever trying again
* mistletoe-go
satoru comes up with a new Christmas tradition
* new year, new superstition
whoever said wearing red on new years brought love was onto something
* kisses
satoru always makes sure your lips are well kissed
* f1 racer!satoru hc’s
* to love is to linger
* cereal, soup and other deep questions
* “what do you think you’d be doing if we never met?”
* “you’re bleeding!” “I was trying to cut the tomatoes!”
* “i have a meeting in an hour! get out of the bathroom!”
* “you’re my everything”
* "what do you mean you've never gone trick-or-treating?!"
* going to the fair hcs
* collegebf!satoru
* study buddy!satoru
* birthday special <3
* satoru loves yapping [to you]
* drabble #1
* drabble #2
* drabble #3
* drabble #4
* drabble #5
* drabble #6
* drabble #7
* drabble #8
* drabble #9
* drabble #10
* drabble #11
* drabble #13
* drabble #14
* drabble #15
* drabble #16
* drabble #17
* drabble #18
* drabble #19
* drabble #20
* drabble #21
* drabble #22
* drabble #23
* drabble #24
* drabble #25
* drabble #26
* drabble #27
* drabble #28
* drabble #29
* drabble #30
* drabble #31
* drabble #32
* drabble #33
* drabble #34
* drabble #35
* drabble #36
* drabble #37
* drabble #38
* drabble #39
* drabble #40
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atlabeth · 4 months
Text
(they all say that) it gets better | luke castellan
bleedin' me dry for context (this is that reader's origin story!!)
summary: a look into your unclaimed year.
a/n: does it still count as fluff if you already know it doesn’t end well? idk but i’m having fun writing for this pair so it’s okay. i hope you guys are enjoying reading them!! this ended up becoming a hell of a lot longer than i thought it would be but these kind of one shots are my faves to write lol
title from teenage dream by olivia rodrigo bc apparently guts teenage angst works very well for a demigod who feels like they're worthless and unwanted for a good period of time!! shoutout to the gods
wc: 11.4k JESUS
warning(s): fem!child of demeter reader. typical anger at the gods, but luke is actually pretty sweet! crazy. mostly hurt/comfort, reader is going through it at the beginning (mentions of injuries and almost dying), honestly she's going through it the whole time but luke is very nice to her lol. barely proofread bc proofing 34 pages is a nightmare !!
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It was your first day as a demigod and you were already off to a bad start. 
You didn’t remember much, obviously. There was a lot of stumbling, barely held up by your satyr as you crossed the border, and then full on collapsing. Somehow you managed to stay conscious all the way to the infirmary, enough to hear shocked murmurs from the people-like blobs around you and terrified, whispered affirmations from your satyr as he ran along with whoever was carrying you. 
You didn’t remember much. But you do remember thinking what a shameful existence it would be to die at fourteen. 
And now you were sitting in an uncomfortable cot, staring at the wall and counting divots. The first half of your visit was only there in flashes as you drifted in and out of consciousness, but now, unfortunately, you were fully awake. You belatedly wondered how many other kids began their camp life with a stay at the infirmary. 
The thought was dashed from your head as you jolted and cried out in sudden pain, and you shot daggers with your glare at the boy next to you.  
“Sorry.” The boy fixing you up was about your age, and he almost seemed to glow from within. “You dislocated your shoulder—I was popping it back into place.”
“You could have warned me,” you seethed.
“I did,” he said, and when he placed his hands on your shoulder they actually did glow. “You just weren’t listening.”
“...Sorry,” you said after a moment. “I’m having a rough day.” 
He shook his head with a slight smile. “It’s expected.” 
“It’ll be okay,” your satyr said, and some of the tension left your shoulders as you looked over at Tate. He’d been by your side for the past two weeks of disasters, and you’d saved each other’s lives more times than you could count. You were just thankful he didn’t have to watch you die. “Jace is one of camp’s best healers. You’re in good hands.” 
You nodded, not wanting to cause any more problems, so you bit your lip and bit your tongue and let him heal the rest of your injuries in silence. He was done soon enough, and you could feel both their eyes on you as you rifled through your backpack. Thankfully, Tate brought it in as you were dying. Your own blood stained the nylon. 
“How do you feel?” Tate asked anxiously. 
“Better,” you said, tearing your eyes away from it as you continued making sure all your belongings were still there. “A lot better. Not like there’s much competition.”
Tate chuckled, and Jace picked up a small bag from the bedside table and handed it to you—it looked like there were little pieces of fudge inside. “Here.” 
“What’s this?” you asked as you took it. 
“Ambrosia,” he said. “Wait a few hours before you have a piece, and only have a little if you feel a lot of pain. I already gave you nectar while you were out, and the last thing we need is you burning up.” 
You looked at Tate with raised eyebrows and he smiled a bit. “Ambrosia and nectar are the food of the gods. It heals demigods in small portions, but take too much and you’ll get a fever. Worst case scenario, you’ll literally burn up from the inside.” 
“Oh,” you said, and you stuffed the bag into your pack before zipping it up. “I’ll… I’ll wait.” 
“Probably a good idea,” Jace said, and he looked over at your satyr as he stood up. “I’ve gotta get back to my sword-fighting lessons. Can you give her a tour?” 
He shook his head. “I have to debrief with Chiron and Mr. D. There were some… rough things on the road.” Tate looked at you. “I’ll be back in thirty minutes— are you sure you’ll be okay?” 
“It’s fine,” you said with a smile. “Do your thing. I’ll look around some, then we’ll find each other later.” 
Tate nodded thankfully and went through an open door opposite your bed, and Jace gave you a tight smile as he started to put away all the medical supplies he used on you. You sighed, slung your bag over your shoulder, and walked out. 
You shut the door behind you and blinked rapidly as you tried to adjust to the sunlight. Then, you heard someone sigh. 
“Thank the gods you’re okay.” 
You turned to see a boy standing up from the wall. Dark curls hung just above his eyes, a contrast to his tanned skin, slightly red from exertion. He was wearing the same bright orange shirt that your healer was—Camp Halfblood, it said in curved text. He was far too pretty for his own good. 
“I’m the one who carried you in,” he said, and you realized you were frowning. “Wanted to make sure you were okay.” 
“Oh,” you said. “That’s… that’s nice of you.” 
“It’s been a while since we’ve gotten someone new,” he said. “Even longer since they’ve had such a dramatic entrance.” 
You shrugged. You didn’t exactly know what to say to this boy. “Sorry.” 
He paused for a moment, and then he nodded. “Not one for conversation. That’s fine.” 
“I did almost just die,” you said wryly. “I’m fresh out of icebreakers at the moment.” 
“Maybe I can help with that.” He held out his hand. “Luke Castellan. Head Counselor of the Hermes cabin, and apparent rescuer of damsels.” 
You huffed a laugh as you stared at him. “I’m a damsel?” 
“I’d say you were in as much distress as someone could be back there,” he said with a shrug. “I practically saved your life. I think that deserves a handshake.” 
The slightest bit of tension dissolved from your shoulders and you shook his hand. His smile grew. 
“How are you feeling?” he asked, dropping his hand. “You were pretty rough when I found you.” 
“Better,” you said, though you grimaced a bit as you tested your shoulder, and you decided to switch your pack to your other side. “Whoever that guy in the infirmary is, he’s good.” 
Luke nodded. “Son of Apollo—they’ve got healing abilities. Very useful when we’re all constantly getting injured.” 
Your brows knit together. “So it really is all real.” 
“You were nearly dead on our doorstep, and from those claw marks I’m guessing it wasn’t just a bad fall.” Luke offered a wry smile. “I’m sure you’ve known it’s all real for a while.” 
“Of course,” you said. “It’s just weird to really know that it’s all real. To see all of you, really. Just knowing I’m not alone.” 
He nodded. “That’s the best thing about it, knowing you’re not alone.” He looked around at your surroundings—various campers chatting as they walked with each other (some glancing at you as they went by), distant shouts and cheers, and a perfectly blue sky matching the perfectly blue house you just left. 
“I’d say the worst thing about it is feeling like I still have no idea what’s going on,” you said. “Unless the gods exist just to be deadbeats. That’d be disappointing.” 
Luke actually laughed at that, his eyes crinkling at the corners, and you found yourself smiling a bit. “I can tell we’re gonna get along.” 
Your own smile returned—it was like his joy was infectious. “You think so?” 
“I know so,” he nodded. “Just… try not to throw the gods’ names around like that. They don’t like to be talked about unless they’re being revered.” 
You huffed. “Sounds like an interesting place.” 
“Camp Halfblood,” he provided, and he gestured around you with his hand. “Keeping young heroes safe for over three millennia.” 
“What,” you said wryly, “are you their PR guy?” 
Luke laughed and shook his head. “It’s something Chiron likes to say.”
“You’re the second person to mention Chiron,” you said. “Who exactly is he?” 
“You haven’t gotten a tour yet?” 
You gave him a look. “Come on. You carried me in. You think I could have gotten a tour between then and now?” 
“Fair,” he admitted, and he tilted his head. “I can give you one, if you’re so inclined.” 
“I said I would wait for Tate,” you said. “He’s my satyr— I figure I owe it to him.” 
“C’mon,” Luke said. “He’s meeting Chiron and Mr. D—that’ll take long enough on its own, and if we don’t get out of here soon enough, you’re gonna get dragged into a whole other conversation with them. At least this way, you can get a little bit of downtime before all the lore of this place is dropped on you.” 
You bit your lip, and then you sighed and nodded. “Fine. But it can’t take too long.” 
Luke smiled and held up three fingers. “Halfblood’s honor.” 
-
You didn’t know where to start.
There were far more people than you expected, not nearly enough beds for all of them, and half were talking and a quarter were fighting and the others were just completely unfazed. All you could do when you walked in was stare.
“You get used to it,” Luke said, glancing over at you. “Everyone’s nice, I promise—just keep a hand on your pockets.” 
You frowned. “Why?” 
He gave you a crooked smile. “Hermes is the god of thieves. We learn by experience in this cabin.” 
Your hands instinctively reached back to the pockets of your jeans, despite the fact that you hardly had anything to your name. “Why do they put the new, naive kids in here again?” 
“God of travellers, too—all are welcome.” Luke saw your hand shoot to your pocket and laughed. “Don’t worry. I won’t let anyone mess with you too much—for now, at least.” 
“Oh, good,” you said lightly. “The hazing doesn’t start until later.” 
Luke smiled as he continued to guide you through the cabin, nodding to and greeting campers with equal parts names and handshakes as he walked past them. You got just as many stares as Luke did hellos, and your skin crawled at the attention. 
“Why are they all looking at me?” you whispered to him. 
“Like I said, you’re the first new camper in a while.” Luke glanced at you. “News spreads fast, especially in this wreck of a place.” 
“It’s not that bad,” you said , but your grip tightened on your backpack strap. “Just very busy.”
“That’s what happens when they shove everyone in here,” Luke said. “All are welcome means all are welcome—Hermes kids, unclaimed kids, and kids of minor gods.”
You frowned. “Minor gods don’t have cabins?” 
“This place is as much for us as it is in honor of the gods,” he said. “Twelve cabins for twelve Olympians. They don’t see it as a problem, therefore we can’t see it as a problem.” 
You decided to bite your tongue, but you couldn’t hide your sigh. “I guess I’m gonna be here for the time being.” 
He looked you up and down, and all you could think was that you must look like an absolute disaster. “I’m guessing you fall into the unclaimed.”
Your lips pressed into a thin line, a sad attempt at a smile. “Yeah, but I just got here—I bet my mom doesn’t even know it yet. Gods are busy.”
“They’re also omniscient,” Luke said wryly. “I’m sure she could have claimed you the second you crossed the border. Your parent could’ve given you a little divine intervention and kept you from nearly dying on the hill.”
“Well, I’m here for now,” you said with a bit too much force, and your nails dug into your palms. “So do you mind showing me around?” 
Luke stared at you for a moment before he smiled. “‘Course not. I can also give you a quick tour of camp too, if you haven’t already gotten one.”
You shook your head. “Only the infirmary.”
“If it makes you feel any better,” he said, “you heal up well.”
“I don’t think that’s a credit to me,” you said. “I think it’s whatever magical drink that healer gave me while he was trying to bring me back. Tasted like pecan pie.”
“Nectar,” he said as he started walking, and you followed behind him. “Drink  of the gods that heals demigods in small portions. It tastes like your favorite food—same as ambrosia.” He stopped in an empty corner and looked at you. “You like pecans?”
You shrugged, suddenly self conscious. “My dad makes it the best.”
“I hope you’ll be able to get the real thing soon,” he said, and then he gestured with a flourish at the same empty corner. “Welcome to your new home.”
You stared at him. “This is the floor.”
“We’re a little overbooked,” Luke said sheepishly. “If it makes you feel better, we’ve got sleeping bags. And this is a top tier corner. Quieter than the others.”
“…Great,” you said. “I feel very welcome.”
“I’m sorry.” To his credit, he sounded like he meant it. “Bunch of unclaimed kids, couple kids of minor gods, couple Hermes kids—it all kinda adds up to a mess.”
“...It’ll be better than camping,” you said, though mostly to yourself as you took your bag off your shoulder and let it thud to the ground. 
“Hey,” Luke said, and his voice was softer, “it’ll be okay. With any luck, your parent’ll notice you now that you’re at camp, and you’ll be claimed before you know it.” 
“I hope so,” you murmured. 
“Luke, who’s the new girl?” 
A boy with curls just as good as Luke’s walked up and clapped him on the back, smiling at you in a way that instantly set you at ease. He also wore the orange camp shirt, with long tan sleeves below that he’d pushed up to his forearms. He had kind eyes. 
Luke said your name, his own smirk on his lips as he looked back at you. “You’ve probably heard about her dramatic entrance by now, but she’s the newest resident of the Hermes cabin.”
“Unclaimed or your sibling?” he asked. 
“...Unclaimed,” you said yourself. You hadn’t even been here for more than two hours and it already felt like your own brand of shame.  
He repeated your name with a nod and held out his hand. “I’m Chris,” he said. “Fellow unclaimed kid.”
A little bit less of a scarlet letter, at least. You swallowed your budding insecurity and shook his hand. “Sounds like a shitty club to be in.”
He snorted. “You’re telling me.”
“How— how long has it been?” you asked hesitantly, almost afraid to know the answer. 
His lips pressed into a tight smile. “Couple years.” 
“Gods,” you murmured. You didn’t know if you’d be able to wait that long. It had been hard enough already growing up without one—if your mother was just out of reach after all this time, you would surely lose your mind. 
“Don’t worry,” Chris said, his expression softening a bit. “It won’t take that long for you. I can tell.” 
“That’s what Luke said,” you responded wryly. “Do I give off a vibe that says ‘I’m unwanted, but not for too long’?” 
Luke laughed and shook his head. “I promise, it’s all gonna be okay. I’ve been the counselor here for a couple months—kids get claimed all the time. I bet you’re next on the list.” 
“Maybe,” you said. You didn’t believe it as much as they did—if they did at all. 
You heard the door open and your head automatically turned to the noise, and you felt the heat rush to your cheeks in embarrassment as Tate came through, slightly out of breath. You stared at Luke—he said thirty minutes at least. He just shrugged. 
“I figured you would be here,” Tate said, his chest rising and falling just so as he walked—trotted?—inside. “You didn’t exactly wait.” 
You opened your mouth to speak up, but Luke beat you, already putting on a charming smile. “Sorry. We got to talking, and then I offered to show her around the Hermes cabin. Just so she  could put her things down, y’know.” 
“‘Course,” Tate nodded. “That— that was probably a good idea. Would have been bad if you got lost or something.” 
“I’m sorry,” you said, and you went to pick your bag up. “Luke said you would be talking for a lot longer— I was going to come back after I was done with this.”
Tate shook his head. That nervous energy from the worst parts of the road was back, and you wondered how badly the talk with Chiron and Mr. D went. “No, it was a good idea. Better than you getting lost around camp or caught up with some troublemakers. Thanks, Luke.” 
“‘Course,” he said. 
“Not sure she’s in much better hands with Luke,” Chris said wryly. “He’s head troublemaker in the cabin of troublemakers.” 
Luke just chuckled and shook his head. “It’s her first day. I wouldn’t let anything happen to her.” 
You were only able to glance at Luke for a moment before your attention was drawn back to Tate as he gestured outside with his head. “Chiron’s waiting outside. He wants to talk to you some before the tour.” 
And now you had to deal with it too. “...Great,” you said. You set your bag back on the ground, in your newly coveted corner.  
“It’ll be fine,” Tate promised. “You already went through Hades to get here— he’s not gonna pile on you more. That’s why Mr. D is back at the Big House.” 
This time, you did look at Luke. Thankfully, he understood. 
“Dionysus,” he explained. “He’s our camp director.” 
You blinked. “The god?” 
“Yep,” he nodded. “Punishment from Zeus. Not the worst gig, but he’s… interesting.” 
“Great,” you repeated, because you didn’t feel like processing that at the moment, and you looked back at Tate. “You’ll be with me, right?” 
He nodded. “Not for the talk, but for the tour.” 
You let out a loose breath, because it was going to be fine. He was just the authority figure of the one safe place in the world for you, and you were just an annoying kid that had no idea what the hell was going on. 
“Great,” you said for the third time. You looked back at Luke. “I’ll see you around?” 
He smiled and bowed his head. “Definitely. You do kinda live here indefinitely now.” 
You nodded, more relieved than you wanted to show, and you started following Tate out.
You heard Chris mutter something to Luke, and you turned your head in time to see Luke jab him in the side. His head perked up when you laughed, and his whole expression changed as his smile returned and he did a little wave. 
You couldn’t help but smile back as you did the same, and you left the cabin with a little pep in your step. 
“You promise you’ll be safe.” 
“Yes, Tate,” you said with a slight laugh. “The worst is already over—you got me here, and we’re both alive. I’m gonna be fine.” 
“I know,” he said, and he managed his own smile. “I’m just worried about you. You don’t spend two weeks on the road fighting for your life with someone and not get a little attached.” 
“You’ll be back here, right?” you asked. “I know your whole thing as a Protector, but you’ve gotta drop the demigods off too, right?” 
“Of course I’ll be back,” he promised. “It… just might be a while. You’re the third demigod I’ve gotten to camp safely, now—Chiron’s trusting me with a bigger mission. It might be a couple months, but I’ll be back.” 
“And you’re telling me to be safe,” you said wryly. 
“I’ve been doing this for a while,” he said. “You just got here.” 
“I know,” you said, and you pulled him into a hug. “Just don’t get killed out there.” 
Tate laughed and patted you on the back before he pulled away. “So long as you don’t killed out here.” 
“Thanks for everything,” you said with a nod. 
“Thank you,” he said, and he gestured at the pavilion with his head. “Now get over there and make some friends. I’ll see you around.” 
You hugged him one last time before you reluctantly went off, and you looked back to wave him goodbye before you really started on your way. 
Your head still spun with all the information Chiron and Tate had imparted on you—so much about Greek mythology (and how it was all real), ADHD and dyslexia (and how they weren’t just there to make your life harder), your godly parent (who would hopefully claim you within the month) and so much more that you knew you would forget in an hour or two. 
And Chiron’s talk. God, it felt more like you were in the principal’s office than anything, even though he was nothing but kind. You couldn’t help but be overwhelmed from it all, and though the talk was probably meant to stave some of that anxiety off, it really didn’t. 
But you’d always felt out of place all your life. And now you were finally where you were meant to belong—that had to count for something. 
Tate had dropped you off at the pavilion—nearly dying had taken a lot out of you, and it just happened to be lunch—and just as you neared the tables and realized you had no idea where to sit, your eyes were drawn to a boy raising his hand and calling your name. 
You looked over and saw that it was Luke, the counselor from earlier, and you couldn’t help but smile. True to his word. 
You weaved your way through various campers and around tables full of kids to finally stop next to Luke’s table—Chris, the guy from earlier, sat across from him, and they both smiled at you. 
“How’d the tour go?” he asked. 
“Fine,” you said with a nod. “A little overwhelming, but better than I thought.” You pulled at your new camp shirt, the fabric noticeably brighter than a majority of those around you. “I match now, at least.”
“Orange suits you,” Luke remarked, and he patted the open spot next to him. “Sit down—stay for a while.”
You chuckled as you sat down. You still felt out of place, but at least they weren’t going to hang you out to dry. “Bright orange seems like an odd choice when we’re trying to stay hidden.”
“Probably so Chiron doesn’t lose us,” he joked. “This place is huge, and there’s a lot of us. When the newest camper gets turned around in the woods during capture the flag and nearly dies to a monster, it’s easier to find them.”
You frowned, and you must’ve not been very good at hiding your panic because Chris shook his head.
“Luke, you’re scaring her. She’s already been through enough.” 
“Don’t worry,” Luke said, patting you on the shoulder. “Just a little halfblood humor. You’re gonna be fine, I promise.”
“It doesn’t feel that way,” you said wryly. “It feels like I nearly died four hours ago and now I have no idea who anyone is or what to do.”
“Not true,” Chris spoke up, and he smiled. “You know us.”
“I’ll look out for you,” Luke promised. “And pretty soon, you’re gonna be good enough to look out for me.”
You let out a long lasting sigh. “God, I hope so.” 
“You’re not holding it right.” 
You adjusted your hold on the hilt, resisting the urge to wipe away the bead of sweat dripping down your forehead and the even stronger urge to hit him. 
“You’re still not holding it right.” 
Your teeth grinded together as you turned to look at Luke. “Are you gonna actually help me, or just stand there judgmentally?” 
“I dunno,” he said. “The weather’s pretty good over here.” 
You groaned and moved your non-dominant hand closer to the pommel, shifting your other down as well. “Is this worthy of your approval, Your Majesty?” 
Luke chuckled as he walked over to you, and you could feel the calluses on his hands as he adjusted your form with slight touches to your arms. “It is acceptable, my lady, but your posture is not.” 
“I don’t know how so many people at this camp like you,” you grumbled. “This is awful, and so are you.” 
He smiled. “You’ve been here for two weeks. Give yourself some grace.” 
“I’ve spent one of those trying and failing at the most basic basics of sword-fighting,” you said. “I spent the past hour losing to an Ares kid who I’m pretty sure actually wanted to kill me.” You looked over at Luke. “Thanks for that, by the way.” 
“Trial by fire,” he supplied. “You’re still alive, so obviously you’re doing something right.” 
“Yeah, probably because you’re here,” you said. “You can’t just kill someone when their counselor’s standing right next to them. It’s bad publicity.” 
Luke huffed a laugh and shook his head as he crossed his arms. “Stop talking down on yourself. You managed to make it here with a couple monster attacks on the way—what’d you use then?” 
“I started off with a screwdriver I stole from the garage before Tate and I left,” you said. “And then I stole a hunting knife from some outdoor store. Not exactly top-tier.” 
“Lotta stealing,” Luke chuckled. “Maybe you are a Hermes kid.” 
“They nearly caught me,” you said. “Definitely not.” 
“Regardless of thievery, you still survived,” he continued. “You’re not a bonafide swordsman, that’s fine. But you’re resourceful, creative—scrappy in a fight is just what we need sometimes.” 
“Great,” you mumbled. “I’m ‘scrappy’.” 
“It’s a compliment,” he promised. “If we were all sword-fighters, we wouldn’t get far. Someone like you is gonna do us a lot of good.” 
“If I don’t die before I even get out to the battlefield.” You knocked the helmet off of one of the straw dummies with your sword and sighed as it clattered to the ground. “This is the only enemy I stand a chance against.”
“You’re thinking too much about it all,” Luke said. “You’re literally wired for battle—didn’t you feel it during your fights on the way to camp?”
You shrugged. You guess you did—you remember not even taking the time to analyze the situation, just knowing your lives were in danger and finally feeling the ever-present jitters in your bones settle for the first time. 
“It was rough,” you finally said. “But… it did feel like I knew what I was doing. Like my body understood it all even when my mind was still a couple steps behind.”
“And that was without training, and with,” Luke huffed an incredulous laugh, “a screwdriver. Just imagine what you’ll be able to do with actual Celestial bronze and actual training.” 
“…I think I remember why people like you,” you said reluctantly. “And why I liked you.” 
Luke grinned as he stood up. “That’s the spirit.” He picked up the fallen helmet and placed it back on the dummy, then looked at you. “I think I’ve put you through enough suffering. Let’s get lunch.”
“So a compliment was all it took for me to get out of this?” you asked in exasperation, gesturing with your sword as you worked to undo the ties on your armor with your other hand. 
“Exactly,” he mused, and he took the sword from you to store it away. “I don’t get nearly enough compliments these days, y’know. Sometimes you end up taking that out on campers that don’t know how to swordfight.” 
“Luke Castellan,” you grumbled as you finally got your breastplate off, “you are a piece of work.” 
He winked. “Thank you.” 
You didn’t think you were built for this life. 
It was the only thought running through your head as you sat at a crowded Hermes table, absentmindedly picking at fruit with your fork as you stared off into the distance.
You’d been at Camp Halfblood for a month now, but it had already felt like a lifetime. 
You’d managed to make a few friends—a Demeter girl who grew you a bouquet of your favorite flowers as a consolation prize for fighting dirty during training; an Athena boy who told you whatever interesting fact popped into his head first every time you ran into each other; the Hebe girl who had the misfortune to have the corner opposite you in the Hermes cabin and showed you skincare tips once in a while. 
Throw in a smattering of Hermes and unclaimed kids and a counselor that seemed determined to make you smile, and you weren’t as lonely as you thought you’d be. 
You were learning how to fight in your own way. Luke was right—you weren’t a swordsman, but you were damn good up close and personal. He’d taken you to the camp armory, you found a Celestial bronze dagger that spoke to you, and from then on you’d actually been doing well in training.
Your corner of the Hermes cabin didn’t feel as sad anymore, either. Luke took you to the camp store for retail therapy after you nearly burned your jeans off on the climbing wall, so now you had an AC/DC poster (courtesy of the little money you had) and an I ❤️ NY keychain to attach to your backpack (courtesy of Luke’s idle hands).
You were starting to come into your own, sure. You were doing better in training and making friends in the cabin you were stuck in and starting to get used to burning part of every meal, but the most glaring issue of all still hadn’t been resolved.
You still hadn’t been claimed. 
And maybe it shouldn’t have been such an issue for you, but how could you not feel shitty? How could you see all the different tables and all the different kids talking and smiling and joking with each other that had parents who cared enough to at least claim them, and not feel unworthy?
Because you did. You felt unworthy, and it didn’t matter how many times you took your sparring partner down or bested the climbing wall or actually hit the bullseye at archery practice—your mother didn’t think you were good enough, so neither did you. 
“How’re you doin’, Berkeley?” 
You frowned. You didn’t have to look up to know it was Luke as he sat down next to you. “What?”
“Did you not hear me?” he asked, but you were already shaking your head.
“Berkeley,” you repeated, finally glancing at him. “That’s not my name.”
Luke shrugged. “I dunno what to tell you. You’re unclaimed. UC. University of California—first one I think of for you is Berkeley.”
You were staring now. “You can’t be serious.”
“Oh, I’ve got tons of UCs. I’ve gotta keep track of them all somehow,” Luke said, and he pointed at campers both at your table and walking around as he talked. “That’s LA, Irvine, Davis—the others aren’t here, but you get the gist.” He looked back at you. “Been savin’ Berkeley for someone special.”
“Oh gods,” you said, horrified. “I’ve got to get claimed.”
One of the girls at the table—Irvine?—rolled her eyes as she stood up and flicked Luke on the head. “Be nice,” she said before walking away. All he did was smile.
“Maybe give it to someone else,” you said. “I don’t feel special.”
Luke’s brows creased. “If you don’t like it—”
“It’s fine,” you said. “The name doesn’t bother me. The reason I have it does.”
His eyes softened as he said your actual name. “It’s only been a month. You’ve still got plenty of time.”
You looked across at the Hebe girl you’d become friends with—Marisol, if you remembered right—and hoped that your eyes didn’t show the desperation you felt. “How long did it take for you?” 
She offered a sympathetic smile. “Six months. But it probably won’t be that long for you.” 
“That’s what everyone keeps saying,” you mumbled. But it had been a month, and you hadn’t gotten a single sign. 
“Because it’s true,” Luke urged. “Whoever your mom is will notice you—you’ve been killing it lately.” 
“Really,” you said flatly, “I’ve been killing it.” 
“Yes,” he said. “You don’t know it because you’ve only got your own experience—you went from nearly dead on our doorstep to taking down most of your opponents.” 
“In training,” you said. 
“That still counts!” Luke exclaimed. “Y’know, you’re holding yourself back. You’re incredible, but you’re the only one that seems to not notice it.” 
“And my—” 
“Do not say your mom,” he said, pointing a finger at you. “We’re not talking about the gods right now, we’re talking about you. And you, Bee, are killing it.” 
That gave you pause. “Bee?” 
“I’m trying to get you back up and you focus on the nickname?” Luke asked wryly. 
“Just explain it,” you said. 
“Bee shortened from Berkeley,” he said. “Not fully unclaimed, but still something special.”
God, you hated him. You’d been feeling shitty for a majority of your month here, but he always managed to make you smile.  
“Sure,” you said. 
“And a little annoying,” he added, earning himself a jab in the side as he laughed, “with a bit of a sting.”
“Aren’t you just so clever?” you mused, though you couldn’t help your smile widening.
“It’s in my genes,” he said proudly.
For the rest of a less than exciting lunch, Luke kept you occupied. Whether it was stories of his life before camp, or the couple of months that earned him counselor before you got here, or getting the other campers at the Hermes table to talk about themselves, he made sure you didn’t get a chance to spiral. 
By the end, your face hurt from smiling
As you finished cleaning up, Marisol turned to you.  “Me and a couple other girls were gonna go play volleyball—do you wanna come with us?” 
“Yeah,” you said, and your smile grew. “Yeah, I’d love to. Thanks.” 
“‘Course!” she exclaimed, and she linked arms with you. “I’d be a fool not to get you on my team after you took down Liam yesterday.” 
She continued to talk as she pulled you along, and you looked back at Luke. He chuckled and gave you a thumbs up. “Go get ‘em, Bee!” 
You gave him one back, and as you turned back to Marisol, you found that you couldn’t stop smiling. 
It was two in the morning and you couldn’t stop crying.
You finally had a mattress against your back, and however stiff it was, it was better than the floor. A decent amount of kids got claimed over the past month, and half the cabin left after the summer was over, so you finally had the privilege of a bunk—thankfully, Marisol did too, and she was below you. 
At least, until the summer-only campers that all the Hermes kids liked more than you returned. Then it was back to the floor.
Unless you got claimed before then. But that was less likely than being able to muster some good will from your cabin mates. 
Because it was embarrassing, truly. You’d been at camp for four months now, and you hadn’t even gotten a single goddamn peep from whoever your mother might be. You just woke up every day on the floor, moseyed about a camp that still didn’t feel like home, burned offerings to a god that didn't want you, and went back to sleep on the floor. 
And now you were crying in a bed that was barely even yours and it was two in the morning and you were wondering if it would have just been better for you to die on the road to camp the first time, because at least then your mother might have actually paid attention to you. 
“Hey.” 
And now you were really wishing you’d died because you’d woken someone up and they’re just gonna hate you more— 
“Are you okay?” 
You finally turned your head from where it had been buried in a pillow, a laissez-faire attempt to suffocate yourself or maybe just muffle the noise, and you saw Luke Castellan. Counselor of a cabin of thieves, vagabonds, and rejects, and maybe the only person that you didn’t want to see you like this. All that good will, the unearned faith you’d accumulated—this was the easiest way to lose it. His eyebrows were creased, and his whisper held what sounded like concern, but he was required to be concerned. 
You nodded, still not moving, still not speaking. Tears rolled down your cheeks and stained the bed sheet. 
“You’re gonna have to be a little more believable than that, Bee,” Luke murmured. 
“No, I don’t,” you whispered back. 
You got the tiniest huff of a laugh out of him, and he gestured towards the closed door with his head. “Wanna take a second?” 
“It’s past curfew,” you mumbled. 
“And you’re miserable,” Luke said. “You can’t feel any worse getting eaten by harpies than you do now.” 
Still, you stared at him. 
“It’ll be okay,” he promised. “Right outside the cabin. Harpies won’t even know.” 
You rubbed a hand across your face, coming away wet with tears, and you realized that he wasn’t just going to leave you like this. So you got up as quietly as you could, careful not to disturb your bunkmates, and followed Luke. He pushed the door open and shut so quietly you wondered how many times he’s snuck out. 
The cold air was sobering, and you wiped away more tears before wrapping your arms around yourself. Camp Half-Blood was always supposed to have perfect weather, but you guess not even they were immune to November nights. 
“So,” Luke started, and in your peripherals you could see him leaning against the side of the cabin. You could feel his gaze on you, and you just stared off into the distance. 
“So,” you repeated. 
“You wanna tell me why you’re crying in the middle of the night?” he asked. 
“Not really,” you said, because it felt ridiculous that a boy your age was acting like he’s ten years your elder. 
Luke chuckled and tipped his head. “Fair. You want to say anything at all?” 
“I’m sorry for waking you up.” 
He shook his head. “I was already up. I’m a light sleeper.” 
“Seems rough in a cabin like this,” you said. 
“I’ve gotten used to it,” he said. “Did you have a nightmare?”
You frowned, because now it really felt like he was babying you. Luke must have caught on, because he laughed a bit and shook his head.
“Demigods have… extremely vivid dreams,” he said. “Typically horrific nightmares. Sometimes prophetic.”
Your frown deepened. “That’s awful.”
Luke shrugged. “It’s just the way it is. The gods can’t interfere in mortal affairs, so I guess it’s their way of letting us know what’s wrong.”
You shook your head with a sigh. “No nightmares, thankfully. Just… feeling overwhelmed.”
“About what?” he asked. “I told you you’ve been doing great.” 
“It doesn’t matter how many times you say it,” you said wryly. “It doesn’t mean I believe it.” 
“There’s no reason you shouldn’t,” he asserted. 
You huffed a laugh. “It’s been four months, Luke. Four months since I got here after nearly dying in five different states, and I don’t even know who’s responsible for it.” 
“Ah,” Luke said. “The unclaimed thing.” 
“Yeah,” you said wryly. “I guess you could call it that.”
“Sorry,” he said, and he shook his head. “It’s a bigger deal than that, I know.” 
“Maybe it isn’t,” you said. “There’s at least six other kids in there dealing with the same thing as I am, and none of them are waking up their counselor in the middle of the night with their tears.”
“Don’t talk about yourself like that,” Luke said with surprising conviction. “Like your feelings aren’t valid. Because they are.” 
You crossed your arms. “Doesn’t seem like it.” 
“They are,” he insisted. “A— and you’re not bothering me. We’re friends, and we help each other. I care about you, y’know.” 
“I never said I was bothering you,” you said wryly. 
“You thought it,” Luke said. “I know you did.” 
“...Maybe.” You sighed and shook your head as you looked out at the stars. They really were beautiful here. “I just can’t help but be bitter about all this, and I feel so shitty about it.” 
“Would it make you feel better to know you’re not the only one that thinks that?” he asked. 
“A little, yeah.” You glanced at him. “No one else seems too bothered that their parents are never around.” 
“Most of them have accepted that it’s just the way it is,” he said. “Doesn’t mean you have to.” 
“Have you?” 
Luke sighed after a moment of reluctance. “I… I have a complicated relationship with my dad because he was around. It was almost… worse to know him, and then to have him leave.” 
“It’s better to have loved and lost than never to have loved at all,” you quoted. 
“I don’t know about that,” Luke murmured. “But it certainly helps to talk about it.” 
You glanced over to see him gazing off into the distance, a look in his eye that you couldn’t quite place. This was the most he’d ever talked about his past to you, you realized—and it still wasn’t much. 
“When were you claimed?” you asked after a moment of contemplation.
Luke shrugged. “I never really had to be. Hermes stayed with my mom for a year after I was born, and she told me who he was when I was a little older. I’ve known basically my whole life—he had no reason not to claim me as soon as I got to camp.”
“So you’re saying my dad could be keeping secrets from me too,” you said. 
“He might not know,” Luke said. “A lot of times, they don’t talk about it. Sometimes, we don’t find out until a monster’s trying to kill us on a field trip.” 
You huffed. “What a great existence we’ve been blessed with.” 
Luke smiled, though it was tighter than usual. He let out a deep breath, then fully turned to you. 
“Do you have your dagger with you?”
You frowned. “It’s under my pillow. Why?” 
“Under your—” Luke stared for a moment before he laughed and shook his head. “A little paranoid?” 
You shrugged. “You said it yourself. You’re a cabin of thieves.” 
“True,” he admitted. “How’d you like to get some of this emotion out?” 
“We’re sneaking out even more?” 
“It’ll be fine,” Luke promised. 
“You always say that,” you said. “Eventually, it’s not gonna be true.” 
He laughed and gestured at the door. “Get your dagger. We’re gonna make this a very bad night for some mannequins.” 
-
“Maybe this wasn’t a good idea.” 
You huffed as you ripped your dagger out of the dummy, a few strands of straw coming out of the new hole you’d torn in its forehead, and wiped the sweat off your forehead. “Are you kidding? This was a great idea.” 
“Not this part,” he said. “The ‘being alone with you during a rage’ part.” 
“I’m not in a rage,” you muttered as you slashed at the breastplate, “I’m blowing off steam.” 
Luke hummed. “And you thought you weren’t a good fighter.” 
You stabbed at the armor again then rammed your fist into its head, and you took a step back as the mannequin thudded to the ground. “I guess I just need to think about my mom before I go into battle.” 
“Y’know, Bee,” Luke said, “you scare me sometimes.” 
You shook your head, wiping your blade on your night shirt to get any debris off as you turned around. “You’re really gonna stick with that?” 
“I told you I’d stop if you didn’t like it.” 
“It’s not that. I just…” You sighed and shook your head again. “It doesn’t matter.” 
“Of course it does.” Luke crossed his arms. “Everything you have to say matters.” 
“Not if I say it doesn’t,” you countered, and you looked at him. “Who do you think it could be?” 
“Your parent?” he asked. You nodded. 
“Definitely not Apollo,” Luke said. “You’re way too dreary to be a kid of the god of the sun.”
“Gee,” you said dryly, “thanks.” 
Luke shrugged. “You asked.” 
“Well— who else?” You picked the dummy back up and dusted the armor off. “Athena, maybe? I’m smart.” 
“Not smart enough to not be out past curfew with me,” he said. 
“You suggested this,” you scoffed. “And I definitely needed it. If we get caught, I’m blaming you.” 
“And why do you think that would work?” he asked, amused. 
“You’re the camp’s golden boy,” you said. “I doubt you’d get in much trouble.” 
“Sure, sure,” he said, nodding. “Or you just think I’m good enough to talk my way out of it.” 
You tilted your head. “That too.”
“I never thought Ares before,” Luke chuckled, “but after all this, I think you might have it in you.” 
“God, I hope not. Priya hates me.” 
“She doesn’t hate you,” Luke said. “She just tried to kill you that one time.” 
“And that other time during capture the flag,” you said. “She’s out for blood, Luke.” 
He chuckled and shook his head. “She always is. She’s probably already moved onto her next victim.” 
“I hope so.” 
“Maybe Aphrodite?” he suggested. “You’re awfully pretty.” 
You rolled your eyes. “Flattery will get you nowhere.”
“It’s not flattery if it’s true,” Luke corrected. 
You huffed a laugh but couldn’t help the slightest smile as you shook your head. “It’s not Tyche, at least. I have the worst luck.” 
“Maybe you’re a Big Three kid,” he said. “How do you feel about the sky?” 
“I like it,” you said. 
“The ocean?” 
“Not so much.” 
“And the darkness?” 
You huffed a dry laugh. “I’m not a Big Three kid, Luke. Even I know that.” 
“No, you don’t,” he said. “You can never know for sure until you’re claimed.” 
“If I was, I would be the biggest disappointment,” you said, looking at your reflection in your dagger. “Breaking their pact for a kid that can barely fight.” 
“Why do you always do that?” 
Luke’s voice had lost the joking edge from before, and when you glanced over at him, he was frowning.
“Do what?” 
“You always put yourself down,” he said. “You don’t even give yourself a chance to believe that you’ll be great, or that you’ll succeed—you’re just a coward, or a failure, or worthless at the first bump in the road.” 
“Luke—” 
“No,” he said, shaking his head. “I need you to understand that you are so, so much more than whatever that shitty voice in your head says.”
You went silent. Any words you could have even said stuck in your throat. 
“This is not an easy life,” Luke asserted. “We’re thrown into an ocean before we know how to swim, and we have to find the shore all on our own or die trying. We—” he laughed, but there was no heart in it— “we’ve got our parents above us that could guide us, could save us, but most of the time they refuse to even acknowledge us. And we’ve got every single goddamn obstacle in the way trying to kill us.”
He inclined his head towards you. “But in spite of all that, you’re alive. You’re still here. You’re pushing through everything in your path, and you are still fucking here. Do you get that?”
“…I’m still here,” you repeated, and your hands clenched into fists. It had never felt more right to have your dagger in your hand. 
Luke nodded resolutely. “And you’ve got a couple lifeboats to help along the way.”
“You mean it?” Your voice came out softer than you thought, in stark contrast to the stiffness of your bones, but you felt like a kid all over again. 
“With all my heart,” he promised. “For as long as you’re here, I’ll be here.” 
Your throat tightened, and the telltale beginnings of tears pricked behind your eyes. This time, when you spoke, your voice was little more than a whisper. “Thank you.”
“Always,” he said. “And I mean that.”
You nodded, maybe a few too many times, and cleared your throat as you looked back at your dagger. “It’s late. We should get back before we actually get in trouble.”
Luke nodded too, and he helped you move the dummy back into place. You hated how your heart jumped into your throat when your hands brushed for the barest moment, but thankfully, he didn’t seem to notice. 
“Thank you for this.” You played with your hands as Luke finished putting everything else away—extra insurance to make sure no one knew you were here—and only managed to make eye contact just as he looked at you. “It… it really helped.” More than he knew, you were sure. 
Luke smiled, and he offered you his arm. “Always.”
You took it, ignoring the heat in your cheeks. “Just… don’t tell anyone about the crying.”
He chuckled as you started walking together. “After the way you’ve been handling that dagger? I’d be a fool.“
-
“Luke,” you groaned, “this is awful.” 
“You were the one who said you wanted to spend time with me,” he said, giving you a crooked smile. “Spending time with me after the worst cabin inspection ever means cleaning the place head to toe for our next one.” 
“Is skipping dinner really worth it though?” you asked as you scooped up a pile of dirty clothes and tossed it into the basket between you two. 
“It’s the only time this place is completely empty,” he said. “I told you I could handle it alone—you’re the one that insisted on helping.” 
“Maybe I do want to be a Big Three kid,” you grumbled. “At least I’d only be cleaning up my own mess.” 
“You’d also have the wrath of the gods and every monster in the world to deal with,” he said. 
You shook your head. “A small price to pay for a clean cabin.” 
“And then you wouldn’t get to see me when you wake up every day,” he mused. “A much bigger price to pay.” 
You huffed as you dropped to your knees, reaching under a bed to grab a stray camp tee. “Keep talking, pretty boy. It won’t clean the floors.” 
Luke grinned. “You think I’m pretty?” 
“I think you’ve got the messiest cabin in the world,” you said. “We’ve gotten the lowest rating every day for the past two weeks. I’ve been here for seven months now, and I don’t think we’ve ever gotten a full five.” 
“Which is why you’re helping me!” he said. “Because you’re as sick of scrubbing the pegasi stables as I am.” 
“You’re the counselor here!” you exclaimed. “You’ve gotta whip your siblings into shape.” 
Luke gestured at you. “You’re basically my co-counselor. It’s just as much your responsibility.” 
“And just what makes you think that?” you marveled. 
“You’re the person in the cabin I like the most,” he said, “and we spend a lot of time together. That’s enough to make you my partner.” 
“My stuff is always clean,” you said. “It’s you and the rest of the Hermes kids that’ve gotten us stuck in the stables and the kitchens every afternoon. Not me.”
You started remaking the unmade bed—would it kill any of the Hermes kids to make theirs right after they got up?—and shook your head. “It’s just not fair. Aphrodite’s cabin is basically Barbie’s Dreamhouse, and Demeter kids can grow plants to make it all pretty. We’ve just got a cabin of slobs.” 
“Yeah, yeah,” he said, but when you glanced at him, you saw he was smiling. “It’ll all be fine.” 
“You always say that.” You got the fitted sheet into all the corners then looked at him full-on. “Even when it’s not about something as stupid as laundry. How do you know?” 
Luke shrugged as he nudged a ladder to a top bunk back into place. “I don’t. I just hope for the best.” 
“How do you do that?” you asked. “How does anyone here do that? I feel like I’m the most pessimistic person here.” 
“Every single one of us is an anomaly,” Luke said. “Freaks of nature. By all accounts of logic, we shouldn’t exist. But we do. All of mythology does. And when we have to literally fight for our lives for every single day, it doesn’t do much good to sweat the small stuff.”
“All I do is sweat the small stuff,” you grumbled, and you stretched your back out before you continued. “D’you think they’ll get annoyed that we just pooled all their laundry together again?” 
“Nah,” Luke said. “If they didn’t want to have to pick all their stuff out after we so graciously do the laundry for them, they would keep their things clean in the first place.” 
You chuckled and shook your head as you finished laying out the sorry excuse for a comforter—it would end up on the floor five seconds into the night, but Sisyphus and the boulder and all that—and sat down on the fruits of your labor. “I think this mess is the one thing I won’t miss when I get claimed.” 
“You’re not as down about that as you used to be,” Luke noted.
“You know how they say a watched pot never boils?” 
He actually laughed at that as he leaned against a bed post. “If you don’t care, you’ll get claimed faster?” 
You shrugged. “Nothing else has worked. And like you said—don’t sweat the small stuff, right?” 
“Like you said— all you do is sweat the small stuff.” 
“Maybe I’m gonna try and turn over a new leaf,” you mused.
“I think that would be good for you,” he said. “You’ve been happier lately. It’s good to see you happy.” 
“You’ve been watching?” you asked wryly. 
Luke smiled. “You know I always am.” 
You ignored the warmth stirring in your chest as you shrugged. “I’ve spent way too much time this year being sad over things I can’t control. Might as well start focusing on the things I can.” 
“And to think,” he mused, “this is the same girl that wanted nothing to do with me when we first talked.” 
“Oh, please,” you said dryly, “I’ve always wanted something to do with you.” 
“And you still understand that flattery gets you everywhere,” Luke said with a grin. He pushed himself up and held out his hand. “C’mon—this place is clean enough. I think if we run, we can still make dinner.” 
“Think we’ll get in trouble for partially skipping?” you asked as you stood up and took his hand, swinging your intertwined hands a bit as you walked together. 
Luke chuckled as he pushed the door open and you walked out. “After the work we did here? We should be hailed as saints.”  
-
“Luke,” you whispered. 
His eyes shot wide open as he jolted up, and you had to stifle your laugh at his bewildered expression before he realized it was you. 
He said your name groggily, rubbing his eyes as he kept himself propped up with his other arm. “What d’you need?” 
“The stars,” you said. “They’re beautiful tonight.” 
“So are you,” he mumbled. “You don’t see me waking you up in the middle of the night to tell you that.” 
“Luke,” you said, but you couldn’t help your smile. “On topic.” 
“The stars,” he said, barely nodding in his addled state. “Good for them. I’m going back to sleep now.” 
“No, Luke—” you laughed softly and took his hand. “Come stargazing with me.” 
He closed his eyes, but he didn’t take his hand away. “You’re insane.” 
“Please,” you said. “I could never see the stars at home, not like this. They’re brighter than I’ve ever seen.” 
“It’s so late,” he complained. “Can we do it in the morning?” 
“Do you know what stargazing is?” you asked, amused. 
“Hey, lovebirds.” The annoyed, tired voice of a camper rang out as they hit the wall. “Take it outside so we can sleep.” 
Again, you had to bite back a laugh. Luke looked like he was holding back a groan, but he got up anyway, rubbing the grogginess out of his eyes. You moved to the door as quietly as possible, and you waited until he joined you on the small porch. 
“Thank you,” you said, hearing the door close, “and sorry.” 
“Yeah, yeah.” Luke covered up his yawn as he held a jacket out for you. “Put this on. I’m not gonna be responsible for you getting a cold because you want to stargaze in February.” 
Your eyebrows rose as you took it. “Is this yours?” 
“Don’t think too much into it,” he said, but he had the slightest smile on his lips. “You wanna see the stars, right? Let’s see ‘em.” 
“Not here,” you said, shaking your head as you zipped up the maroon hoodie. You held out your hand once you finished. “Do you trust me?” 
“Oh, gods,” he muttered, running a hand through his messy hair. “We’re doing a trust exercise too?” 
“I’ll take that as a yes,” you remarked. You took his hand and started dragging him along, a clear spot in mind. 
“You’re kidding me,” he said in exasperation. “I thought we were just gonna look at the sky for a couple minutes— you’re taking me to a second destination?”  
“Hey,” you said, “don’t sweat the small stuff.” 
“Oh, I can’t wait to use that on the harpies when they catch us and eat us,” Luke said offhandedly. “‘I’m sorry, ma’am—we’re really trying not to sweat the small stuff.’” 
You laughed as you continued on your way, and out of the corner of your eye you could see Luke smiling too, despite himself. Suddenly, though, his grip tightened on your hand and he pulled you behind one of the thicker columns of the pavilion. 
“Wh—” 
He shook his head then gestured with it to the other side of the pavilion. One of the harpies—Aello, if you remembered correctly from Chris’s rant the past week about cleaning dishes—was walking past, muttering things to herself. 
“Speak of the devil,” you marveled. You definitely weren’t a child of Tyche. 
Luke gave you a look that quite clearly said be quiet, and for some reason that only made you want to laugh more. He must have seen that glint in your eye that he’d grown used to, because he placed his hand over your mouth right before the dam was about to burst. 
You squeezed his hand tight as you tried to keep yourself from blowing your cover while Luke occupied himself with actually watching to make sure your path would clear. You were pressed right up against each other, and even through the jacket, even in the cold, you could feel his body warmth. He did say he ran hot.
Eventually, Luke let out a labored sigh and let his hand drop, and you wheezed, nearly doubling over. 
“There is something wrong with you,” he said. He was barely able to hold back his own amusement.  
“Oh my god,” you breathed, “that was awful.” 
“That was your fault!” he exclaimed. 
“How was it my fault?” you argued. “You’re the counselor here—you’re meant to be the responsible one!” 
“I was being responsible!” Luke laughed again as he ran his hand through his hair then used it to gesture at you. “You were the one that nearly got us caught—you were the one who wanted to be out here in the first place!”
 “Right,” you said, pointing your finger, “we gotta get to the beach.” 
“Stargazing on the beach,” Luke marveled. “Definitely worth nearly getting eaten.” 
“Oh, shut up,” you said as you continued to pull him along. “You could’ve said no.” 
He squeezed your hand for a moment. “We both know I can never say no to you.” 
Once you got to the beach you let go of his hand and laid down, taking care not to get sand in your sneakers. Luke sat down next to you but stayed up, watching the tide go in and out. 
At night, without a hundred campers running around making all the noise they can, you actually felt like you could breathe. 
“It’s nice, isn’t it?” It almost felt wrong to break the sacred silence, to insert yourself in the ambiance of nature working together in all its glory. 
“Yeah.” Luke’s voice was softer than usual, that rough edge you’d grown used to absent in the face of calmer seas. “Yeah. It’s…” 
“Serene,” you suggested. 
“Beautiful,” he said. When you glanced at him, he was already looking at you. 
“Very smooth,” you said wryly. “Now stop flirting and look at the stars.” 
Luke chuckled lightly as he let himself fall back. His hand bumped yours as he adjusted his position, and your breath caught in your throat for the barest moment. You moved it away. 
The two of you laid there together in silence gazing at the stars for what felt like forever. The gentle waves coming to shore then leaving, the scattering of sand from quiet winds, and not a single angry car horn or police siren. 
You missed home, the city. You were headstrong in your belief that Detroit was better than New York. But gods—sometimes, you just couldn’t beat camp. 
You didn’t know what possessed you to break the silence. But something had been tugging at you since the moment you laid down on the beach, and so you did. 
“Can I tell you a secret?” 
Luke didn’t miss a beat. “Always.” 
“I…” you trailed off for a moment, but you bolstered yourself. “I’m scared of what comes next.” 
You heard Luke shift in the sand and felt his eyes on you. “What do you mean?” 
“After this,” you said. “The honeymoon phase of being a demigod.” 
He huffed a laugh. “I wouldn’t say we have a honeymoon phase.” 
“You know what I mean.” A shiver went down your spine and you put your arms on your chest. Like a coffin. “I’m waiting for the other shoe to drop.” 
“I think you need to stop getting up in the middle of the night,” he said. “It seems you have all your existential crises then.” 
You exhaled out your nose, a sorry excuse for a laugh. “I’ve heard about quests—how they can happen for no reason except a god’s will, to— to prove that you’re worthy. And all I can think about is that my mother will never claim me until I prove I’m worthy or die trying.” 
Luke was silent. You could feel your throat closing up, the threatened onslaught of tears. You blinked them back. 
“All my life, I have never felt seen,” you murmured. “And I’m terrified that the only way I will be seen is when I die.”
“Look at me.” 
You turned your head—Luke’s eyes were piercing in the moonlight. 
“I don’t care what anyone says, especially that voice in your head—you’re worth everything and more,” he said. “And you are worth so much more than becoming a martyr for a god’s approval.” 
“I wish you could tell my mom that,” you mumbled. 
“I would march right up to Olympus and say it to her face,” he said. “And if it bothers her that much, she can smite me right now.” 
That got a breathy laugh out of you from the pure absurdity. Luke’s eyes flicked to the sky as he waited, and when he didn’t instantly die a horrific death, his gaze went back to you. 
“I see you,” Luke promised, his voice low. “And I’ll make everyone see you the way I do. I swear it.” 
You were starstruck. You couldn’t look away from him, from the determination etched into each detail of his face, the softness in his eyes directed wholly at you—the fact that he was here at all in the first place at an unholy hour just because you asked. 
Oh gods. You were in trouble. 
“It’s late.” You finally managed to break the spell that held you under. “We should go.” 
“Yeah.” Luke made no motion to move, still focused wholly on you. 
“Luke,” you whispered. 
You could have sworn his eyes moved down to your lips, but he was sitting up so quickly that you knew you must have imagined it. You cleared your throat as you followed suit, brushing the sand off your—his— jacket. 
“This was nice,” he said after a moment. “...Thanks for waking me up.” 
“Of course,” you said. “There’s… there’s no one else I would’ve wanted to share it with.” 
Luke smiled, and you didn’t think he’d ever looked more beautiful than he did now, awash in the silver moonlight. If you were braver, you would have taken his hand again. You would’ve done what the voice in your head desperately wanted to do—had wanted to do for the past two months.  
But you didn’t. 
“I guess it was worth nearly getting eaten, huh?”
“Yeah,” he said, and he shrugged. “But most things are worth it when it comes to you.” 
You nearly melted right there, and it was a credit to your strength that you didn’t say anything horrifically stupid. Instead, you put on a smile, hoped he couldn’t see how much he was killing you, and started back up on the path. 
“C’mon,” you said. “Before we end up having to clean the entire camp for breaking curfew.” 
“Whatever you say,” he mused. 
-
You groaned as you slumped into your usual spot at the Hermes table. You heard Luke laugh, and you felt his eyes on you as you put your head in your arms.
“What’s got you so down?”
“I’ve been fifteen for three days and I already feel like an old woman,” you said. “Everything still hurts.”
“Capture the flag was meant to be a birthday gift,” Luke said wryly. “And we did win.”
“That doesn’t mean anything,” you grumbled. “I swear, some people went after me on purpose just because it was my birthday. I’ve got bruises all over.”
“You know, we have an infirmary for a reason.” 
“They’re battle wounds,” you said. You picked up your head just to take your goblet. “Lemonade. Actually, pink lemonade.” You took a sip, but even that didn’t make you feel better. You buried your head back in your arms with a rough sigh. “Signs of our victory.”
Luke huffed a laugh. “Sometimes I really don’t…”
He trailed off suddenly, and you heard a collective gasp go up at the table.
“What?” you asked halfheartedly. 
“You— you’re—” 
You didn’t know why he couldn’t finish his sentence. You picked your head up to see Luke’s face awash in golden light, his eyes wide. Everyone else at the Hermes cabin was just as awestruck, and Marisol fumbled around in her purse until she pulled out her compact. She opened her foundation, the mirror pointing at you, and you realized why.
A glowing, golden, translucent sickle with a few sheaths of wheat floated above your head. You frowned.
Before you had the chance to say anything, Luke was yelling your name and tackling you in a hug. You let out a grunt of surprise as you barely managed to brace yourself, and when he pulled away he was smiling wider than you’d ever seen.
“You’re claimed!” he exclaimed, his hands gripping your shoulders. “You— you’re finally claimed!”
“Demeter,” you said, almost absentmindedly. It still hadn’t quite hit you. 
“Demeter,” he repeated, nodding rapidly, that gigantic smile seeming like a permanent feature at this point. “I told you everyone would see you— I told you we would make them see you the way I do!”
The rest of the table was chattering away, and you could feel Chris patting you on the back and saying words that went in one ear and out the other. The rest of the pavilion was starting to catch word, and you could see a couple kids from a table on the opposite end standing up and craning to see. Maybe your new siblings. 
(You should be happy.)
Your new siblings. 
…Your new cabin.
You could still barely think, like there was static in your brain. Luke’s hands on your shoulders were the only thing grounding you. 
(You should be ecstatic.)
A year of tears, silent prayers, and apathetic resolution had finally come to a close, just days after your fifteenth. 
(Why are you not smiling?)
You’d been claimed. But you didn’t think you’d ever felt more lost. 
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opencommunion · 7 days
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"Israeli forces used three Palestinian boys as human shields in the northern occupied West Bank last week.
Karam, 13, Mohammad, 12, and Ibrahim, 14, were used as human shields by Israeli forces in separate incidents during an Israeli military incursion into Tulkarem refugee camp on May 6, according to documentation collected by Defense for Children International - Palestine. In all three incidents, armed Israeli soldiers forced the boys to walk in front of them as soldiers searched Palestinian homes and neighborhoods in Tulkarem refugee camp, and in two cases, Israeli forces fired weapons positioned on the boys’ shoulders. ... 'I was crying and shaking in fear, and whenever I begged the soldiers to stop, they would scream at me and order me to be silent,' Karam said. 'After the soldiers searched the apartments of the building that I was entering before them, I asked them while crying where they were taking me. One of them answered me in Arabic that they would take me with them to show them the way, in addition to opening the doors of the neighboring houses and entering before they did.' ... 'While we were climbing up the stairs, three soldiers assaulted me severely with black sticks that they had. They beat me on my lower limbs and my back for about five minutes, while they were telling me that I was a terrorist. When I reached the fourth floor, I was exhausted and could not stand as a result of the beating and fear. I was kept with the residents of the building until around 7 p.m., during which the soldiers did not allow us to eat anything,' Karam said. ... 'While I was held in the hallway, the soldier guarding me assaulted me with a wooden stick for about 10 minutes. He hit me on my head and back. After the soldiers left the apartment, they took me to the fourth floor, during which one of them hit me with his hands on my head, and I fell on my face. One soldier also put his rifle on my shoulder and fired several bullets at the ceiling of the staircase. They kept me with them for about two hours, during which I was crying out of fear, terror, and pain. I begged them a lot to no avail. When we reached the fourth floor, I was searched before I was held with the rest of the building's residents until about 7 p.m., without being allowed to have anything to eat,' Mohammad said. ... 'A number of soldiers took me to one of the rooms and began interrogating me about the whereabouts of wanted men. When I told them that I did not know anything, one of them threatened me in Arabic and said that he would shoot me if I did talk, after which he slapped me and kicked me for a few minutes. Then, my hands were cuffed behind my back with a plastic tie, and I was taken outside and forced to walk in front of the soldiers,' Ibrahim told DCIP. ... Since 2000, DCIP has documented 34 cases involving Palestinian children being used as human shields by the Israeli army. Last year, Israeli forces used four young children in Aqbat Jabr refugee camp, near Jericho in the occupied West Bank, as human shields."
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shanastoryteller · 10 months
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Happy Pride! One of the genderbendy stories, please? Lady Mo, maybe?
a continuation of 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18 19 20 21 22 23 24 25 26 27 28 29 30 31 32 33 34 35 36 37 38 39 40
Xuanyu groans and rolls her eyes when Lan Wangji insists on treating her wounds before they continue, but apparently decides she's tested his patience enough for one evening because she says, "Fine," and and begins to untie her robe.
He steps closer and grabs her wrists. "What are you doing?"
She looks up at him and this close he can see the exhaustion lingering in her dark eyes. "You just said you wanted to bandage me up before we left again!"
"You cannot undress in front of," he gestures around them.
She frowns, following his hand, and then looks down at herself. "Oh. Right, forgot that mattered now." He quirks an eyebrow and she blinks, face going a shade paler before she pastes a too wide smile across her face. "Okay, well, the carriage then?" She doesn't wait for him to answer, instead raising her voice to shout, "Sizhui, make sure our guests get something to eat before we get moving."
"Yes, Lady Xuanyu," Sizhui says, more formerly than he would normally, but Sizhui takes after him in that he tends to fall back on formality when he's feeling out of sorts.
Lan Wangji sighs and leads her to the carriage with a hand on the small of her back. His instinct is to grab her arm and drag her there, but she gets squirmy and argumentative, and he's had quite enough of both.
She hops into the carriage, only wincing at little at the sudden motions, and he follows her in, setting down the supplies he'd grabbed and then closing the doors firmly behind them.
"It's really not that bad," she says as she undoes her robes and slides them down her shoulders. "We'll have time to bathe when we arrive at Koi Tower and I could have just cleaned them there. They don't really need bandages."
He ignores her and doesn't let his eyes linger on her breasts even as he gets flash of memory of closing his lips around a small, dark nipple and biting, his tongue running the indents his teeth had left in soft flesh.
"You didn't need to go running off alone," he says, hoping it's dark enough that she doesn't see the flush he can feel crawling up his neck.
She scoffs as he presses a damp cloth against the stab wound between her shoulder and collarbone, cleaning away the tacky blood. "Song Lan needed help and he's my friend."
Lan Wangji wants to ask once again how in the world she knew were Xiao Xingchen was, how she'd been able to lead Song Lan right to him, but one issue at a time. "You could have told us that and we would have helped."
"Uh huh," she says.
He presses down harder than he'd intended and she hisses in pain. He pulls back, grudgingly admitting to himself that she was right. The wound has already closed and the bruises covering her chest have turned a sickly yellow, looking days old rather than hours. He's never seen anyone improve a golden core so quickly before, especially using such dubious methods.
He doesn't want to say the wrong thing, so he gives himself time to gather his thoughts as he wrings out the cloth. "We are not the Mo. Or the Jin."
"Uh, yeah? I noticed," she answers, pulling her robes open even wider to reveal even more bruised skin and the curved slice around her right hip.
"Have you," he asks quietly, keeping his touch gentle as he cleans the blood from thigh. "You are not - you don't have to," he stops, taking a deep breath and pausing his motions so he doesn't accidentally hurt her again. "You are not required to tell me anything that you don't want me to know. However. I am your husband."
"I noticed that too," she says, voice coming out low, and Lan Wangji does not allow himself to be distracted by the fact that he's kneeling over his mostly naked wife, her body small and soft and strong, evening bleeding and bruised.
"Then you should act like it," he returns, and odd reversal of their argument after the waterfall. "In the Lan you are not a bastard daughter but my legitimate wife. If you'd told me you wished to assist Song Lan, I would have helped you, and others would have volunteered to accompany us. You would not have needed to go alone. "
Xuanyu glares at him, somehow even more compelling with the anger brightening her eyes. "I was fine alone. I didn't need you."
"This is not about needing," he says softly, "but about having. Whether you need me or not is irrelevant. You have me. Next time I hope you remember that."
He ties her inner robe together before jumping out of the carriage, leaving her to redress herself. He feels the weight of her gaze on him, but she doesn't say anything.
Lan Wangi sighs, rubbing at his forehead. He drops into the seat next to his brother, noting Sizhui and Jingyi sitting at the same table as their guests and insistently putting more and more food on their plates over their protests. Well, Song Lan and Xiao Xingchen's protests. A-Qing seems quite happy to eat everything put in front of her.
Xichen raises an eyebrow.
"How long did it take Jin Guangyao to trust you?" he asks impulsively, regretting asking almost as soon as it's out of his mouth.
Xichen sighs, "Oh, Wangji," and doesn't answer.
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wonijinjin · 9 months
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warm covers, sick cuddles
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synopsis: you managed to get sick in the summer, what would be better than your dear boyfriend comforting you?
word count: 0.7k | genre: fluff, hurt/comfort, established relationship | pairing: wonwoo x gn! reader | warnings: mentions of symptoms of a common cold, wonwoo calls reader ‘sweetheart’
it was early in the morning when wonwoo woke up in your shared bed, the rain from a few hours ago still present on the sidewalks and trees. after sitting up he checked the time on his phone - 6:34 AM - then projected his attention in the direction of the other side of the bed; towards your sleeping form. the crisp morning evident on your skin in the form of goosebumps alarmed him to pull the blanket further above your body, as it had slipped away during the night. he was getting ready to leave the bed to make a surprise breakfast for you, but not without kissing your forehead. his lips touched your skin, and he halted his movements, furrowing his brows. your skin was too warm despite the chilly morning. he brushed away the hair which stuck to your face during your slumber, then placed his hand on your forehead properly, to his dismay sensing the same warmth he hoped was a fluke of his imagination.
when you awoke the sun was already up and shining, the emptiness of the bed next to you making wonwoo’s absence settle into your sleepy brain. you felt shivers run up your spine despite being under multiple layers of covers. just when you thought of getting up a tall figure appeared in the doorway. it was wonwoo, in his hands a fuzzy blanket; the one you bought together and loved the most, holding so many memories of cuddling while watching a movie, or draping it over each other when you waited patiently late into the night to welcome the other home, falling asleep on the couch in the process.
”good morning baby” you said, noticing how your voice sounded hoarse and strained. he left you without an answer, instead walking up to the bed and spreading the fuzzy material on the already existing layers of covers, crouching beside your tired form. “how do you feel sweetheart? you were cold weren’t you?” he asked in a gentle tone.
“how did you know?” you whispered, surprised.
“oh sweetie” he placed the back of his palm on your burning skin again “you are still quite warm, i think you are coming down with something, perhaps a flu. you were shivering when i checked on you, but i thought it was because of how early it was. guess it wasn’t the case judging by your voice and fever.” he stroked your hair gently, the way your face relaxed not going unnoticed by him.
“i don’t feel well wonwoo.” you said with a frown on your face. his eyes softened; he hated seeing you be so unwell. “my poor, sweet sweet baby.” he pouted, worry and care written all over his features. “i will bring you some medicine to help okay?”
“i should’ve expected it, i mean my immune system is not really resistant to the amount of ice cream i eat nowadays.” you joked, the pain in your throat getting stronger.
“i already set up some tea, it is still boiling hot, but when it cools down a bit i will bring it to you. what would you like for breakfast? i didn’t know if you would be up for it, but i made scrambled eggs and toast. i can make something different if that is what you would like.” he smiled, kissing your hairline. you grinned at this; he was so considerate, always taking such good care of you. “it sounds good, thank you.” it could’ve been anything he made for you, you still would’ve said yes. “then just wait here sweetheart, i will bring it to you with the medicine in a moment.” he was getting ready to leave when you grabbed him by the hand. “please, can you stay with me in bed for a bit before that? it can wait.” he kissed your hand and got under the covers, opening his arms, motioning for you to get closer. you landed in his arms, getting sleepier already, the sickness wearing your body out after being awake for such short amount of time. it didn’t take 5 minutes and you were already asleep, being protected by him and the blankets. he looked at your face, kissing your warm cheek, smiling to himself.
“i guess breakfast will be for lunch then.”
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smrsxx · 10 months
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Legends Are Made | Lewis Hamilton x Female Reader
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Summary : 9 months after Ayrton Senna's fatal crash , Y/N Senna Da Silva was born in Rome , Italy and was defined by destiny carrying the same talent as her father's . At the very young age of 2 Y/N developed an interest upon her father's job and then entered the fascinating world of F1 . Growing up and moving from F3 to F2 her dream to bring back her father's legacy seemed to finally come true , when she joined the Mercedes AMG Petronas team , becoming the first woman on the F1 grid . What she did not expect was that she would fall in love with an 5 times world time F1 champion , Lewis Hamilton .
TW : Mentions and descriptions of Ayrton Senna's fatal crash from the autopsy , Max is super mean upon the reader ( Red Bull is an absolute shit in this ) , anxiety and panick attacks , a lot of angst(y feeling's ) , tears ( both of sadness and happiness ) , Ayrton visit's the reader ( I was crying when I wrote this ) , but extreme fluff towards the end .
This idea came up to me back in May 1 of this year , and while I was listening to the song above Legends Are Made by Sam Tinnesz , I could not help myself and think of all the things that could have happened if Ayrton had a daughter with the same talent . After 3 months working on this I finally finished it .
Just remember that English is not my first language , so if you spot any mistakes just bare with me . ( It is a tw on it's own ) .
PS : I do not usually pour my entire heart and soul on every imagine that I write , but I actually did in this one - and I am proud of it - I hope you like it . I was literally crying the whole time .
Edit : Still crying .
19k words - i got reallyy away with this one
______________________________________________________________
May , 1 1994 Imola , Italy - San Marino Grand Prix
Lap 7 . . . the  car left the racing line at Tamburello and ran in a straight line off the track and struck an unprotected concrete barrier .
He tried to brake down .
He really did .
The car hit the wall at a shallow angle, tearing off the right front wheel and nose cone with 211 km/h .
" Ayrton Senna crashed after the Tamburello corner and smashed with the barrier . Red Flag . The safety car is on it's way . We may need an ambulance for this . " The presenter said with an anxious tone in his voice .
Ayrton tried moving his head but the pain was insufferable .
After that he lost his vision and everything turned black .
" Ayrton Senna Da Silva , a truly staggering talent is dead at the age of 34 years old , after crashing his W16 on the concrete barrier . We lost without any doubt one of the best or maybe the best F1 racing driver." The same presenter said after a couple of hours after the incident .
Ayrton Senna Da Silva - your father - was dead .
_____
January 8th 1995 , Rome , Italy
It was a sunny but cold day when your mother gave birth to you .
Y/N Senna Da Silva . . . the one and only daughter of the F1 champion Ayrton Senna .
You did not know it yet but you would grow up without your dad .
Although you carried something very special within your heart .
His talent was passed over to you , something that your mother tried desperately to avoid .
At the young age of 2 , after watching for the first time a F1 race , one of your dad's , you could not help but wonder about all these fast cars that were racing in big circles .
You were amazed by the colors and the sounds of the engine's .
Your mother did everything in her power to keep you away from F1 and she thought she had succeeded , until one day when she picked you up from the Kindergarten you were crying and sniffling your nose.
When she asked you what happened the only answer you could give was more tears and the phrase " The other kids say that I don't have a dad , because he left me . "
That phrase still keeps you and your mother awake at night .
After that incident she decided to show you one of your father's races.
You loved it .
Little did she know that you had the same talent as your father and she could not keep you away from it .
After a couple of months , you entered the F1 worlds by going into karting .
_____
By the time you were 15 years old , you were able to perfectly drive a F3 car . Your coach said that it would be too easy for you to move from karting to F3 and then F2 .
" You are just like your father . " Your mother said to you on your first big crash .
You had a few big scratches but nothing that could stop you from raicing .
" What do you mean ? " You asked her back trying to convince your mother on telling you more .
After a few hours of you talking you found out more information about your father's tragic death .
" I saw it live on the TV . He was motionless . He had so many injuries ih his head . There was so much blood . You could see it from afar . Thereafter he did not move again . He called me before the race saying that he had a feeling , that something bad will happen to him."
" How ironic " She thought .
__________
' The resemblance is almost scary . ' You thought while you were looking at your debut photo , that the Mercedes AMG Petronas team had published .
It was 100 % sure that you were your father's daughter .
You had the exact same curls at the end of your hair , big honey color doe eyes , that cute little nose and those same full dark pink lips .
You even had the same stance .
Same fashion style . Heck even some clothes of his where now on your closet .
You were practically the same .
But you were not on the same F1 team .
While your father had the best time in McLaren , you joined the Mercedes AMG Petronas team in 2015 .
Being 25 years old you became the youngest amongst everyone , but what made it even worse is that you were the first woman on the F1 grid .
The night before your first public appearance you couldn't sleep .
You were worried and anxious .
Thinking about people's opinions made it even worse that it already was .
Getting up you decided to go to the kitchen at take those sleeping pills your doctor prescribed for you .
And before you knew it you entered the dream space - or so you thought .
" You know that you can not go on like this for long right ? " A man's voice spoke from your left side of the bed .
A voice you have heard before but can not pinpoint exactly where .
" This is not a dream Y/N you can answer me . "
Y/N .
He knows my name .
' I know his voice . ' You thought .
And then it hit you right in the face .
" Dad ? " You asked tears on your face while you where slowly turning to his direction .
He smiled .
He smiled to you .
Your dad smiled to you .
Suddenly you felt someone embracing you - a soft kiss on your forehead .
You hugged him back .
Your dad was here - hugging you and telling you he loves you .
" I am always with you , you are safe . " He told you .
By now you were crying uncontrollably .
" I love you so much Y/N . "
" Do not leave me alone dad . Please . " You begged him through sobs.
" Never Y/N . I love you ." He said to you one last time before you fell asleep .
And he was right .
He never left your side .
You woke up after 8 hours of sleeping , with his cross on your nightstand beside the photo you had of him .
You were safe .
__________
One year had passed since you first saw your father for the first time .
Everything was going great with the team - almost .
You and Lewis Hamilton were practically best friends by now .
' The best duo on the whole grid ' . Everyone said .
Fans going crazy on Twitter shiping both of you .
You had become great friends with Daniel Riccardo and Carlos Sainz.
You had a good relationship with Fernando Alonso and Perez although you did not talk much , but you respected each other .
You and Valtteri Bottas became buddy's through Tiffany and you had the best time pranking Lewis .
Sebastian Vettel was something else entirely .
He respected you and helped you in any way possible . Being the oldest one in the grid helping others with his own ways , made him the father of the grid .
The only one who did not speak to you was Verstappen .
Max Verstappen .
He looked at you with such hate .
Did not talk at you .
Even when you had to sit net to him in interviews he always switched seats with somebody else .
Atleast you were thankful that nothing ever happened .
__________
Two years had passed by .
The best two years of your life .
Your relationship with Lewis was stronger than before .
At least that's what you thought from your part .
You liked him .
Actually you liked him even more than a friend .
God you even loved him at this point .
But you desided to keep it to yourself , not wanting to mess up your frienship or even worse jeopardize your partnership .
Valtteri joined Mercedes and for once you though that they would ask you to transfer , but Toto Wolff would never do it . Especially after watching you getting close to Susie an having the best time babysitting their kids .
In the Brazilian GP of 2017 you finished first place earning the respect of Kimi Raikkonen and becoming close buddy's .
You were always sending food posts and memes in each other and you even died from laughter when you first watched Jackass while babysitting his kids .
Everything was going great until the Abu Dhabi GP .
Valtteri finished first , Lewis second , Sebastian third , Kimi fourth , you fifth and in the sixth place Max .
You had overtake him in last possible minute earning your place in your father's hometown - something that Max did not like at all and decided to make it show in the press conference later .
__________
" My name is Joseph from the F1 Magazine and my question is for Miss Y/N Senna . Y/N you were so good today and I am a 100 % that next year you will win the Championship . I can not help but wonder though and it is something that a lot of people are asking - today you came in the grid with some of your father's clothes . Is there a particular reason ? " He asked you .
" I actually do it all the time since some of his clothes fit me and I believe that he had the best style back then and since now Lewis has stolen that place I need to bring it back . " You answered smiling and making a little joke about Lewis that alot of people loved .
Especially him .
" That is great . My next question is for everyone and it is about what cars do you drive . Can we start with Mr . Vettel . " The interviewer asked with a smile .
" Well I have a Golf . " Carlos said and everybody laughed .
" And you Max ? " The guy asked him .
" I drive a Ferrari , not like someone else that drives a Golf or an almost 30 year old car . " Max said hating on Carlos and you .
You drove your father's famous red Honda NSX and actually own a really big percentage of the Honda NSX cars and you were extremely proud about it .
" Okay . See you on Twitter . " Carlos said know full well that Max is going to get so many new haters .
Sebastian was not proud , Kimi was laughing at Max's stupidity , Daniel was embarrassed and Lewis was furious .
" Y/N what do you have to say about this ? " The guy named Joseph asked you .
" First of all I agree with Carlos and second I am proud of driving such a car . Actually you can ask Mr. Mibe the CEO of Honda and he can assure you that my 30 year old Honda's are far more better that just a plain Ferrari . Thank you . " You answered making everyone in the room speechless .
" Well I totally agree . " Sebastian said laughing .
" She owns the division of the Honda Acura , she can buy all the Ferrari's he owns and plenty more . " Kimi said making everyone speechless again .
Carlos was right , because Twitter was going wild after the press conference was published .
__________
To say that you were mentally drained was a statement .
You were currently crying your eyes out .
Lewis and his dog Roscoe were on your side .
" I just wished the season didn't end like this . " You said while Lewis was hugging you .
" It's okay silly , everyone is on your side . Look even Kimi talked after a really long time . " Lewis said and you both laughed .
Suddenly you were both looking at each other in the eyes and before you noticed it Lewis had capped your face in his palms and pressed his lips at you .
You were so shocked that you did not realize that you had not kissed him back .
Your unresponsiveness made him believe that he was getting wrong .
'' I am so sorry Y/N I kno that you did- " Lewis said but you interupted him .
" Why did you stop ? " You asked him making him froze in his tracks .
It is safe to say that he kissed you back again something that went on about hours and hours on end until Roscoe got jealous of it and started to bark in your faces .
You stayed in Lewis hands for a while , until a scared Toto stormed inside the room .
" Next GP ? Imola , San Marino circuit . " He announced for both of you to hear , but was looking directly at you .
Imola , San Marino - where your father had lost his life .
__________
May , 1 2018 Imola , Italy - San Marino Grand Prix
"Today's atmosphere is heavy . We are in San Marino , Imola circuit where Ayrton Senna lost his life . Now we are waiting for the race to start as we have Y/N Senna Da Silva driving for the Mercedes AMG Petronas team . Toto Wolff specifically asked for the press to not be outside of the Mercedes pit . Y/N is already anxious and worried enough . We hope and pray for the best . In my opinion she is the best driver of this generation . " The same presenter that witnessed your father's death , spoke about you .
' 5 minutes till the race start's ' . You said to yourself .
You were inside your car , wearing your father's famous yellow helmet, his cross on your neck inside of your clothes .
Lewis had begged you not to do it .
Daniel and Carlos were totally afraid .
Kimi had retired .
Sebastian knew that it was dangerous but you wouldn't badge .
Your boyfriend - Lewis - was looking at you , pleading you with his eyes from his car to not do it .
Valtteri did not intervene .
You started from P4 , Sebastian in P3 , Valtteri in P2 and Lewis in P1 .
And the race started .
__________
You don't know how many laps you had done , you weren't counting them .
Everytime you approached the Tamburello racing line until you pass it , your heart was dropping on your stomach , you had trouble breathing .
You were thinking of him .
You thinking about your father .
Your mind was your enemy at this point telling you to 'look at the corner' .
You heart your companion was telling you 'do not look at the corner' .
'What if I lose control of the car and smash into the barier ? '
' What if I die ? '
' Mom is going to be devastated . '
'Lewis . . . oh my Lewis . . . '
' What if ? '
But despite your heart telling you to not look at the corner near the racin line in Tamburello , you did it and what you saw made everything stop .
__________
It is like you were watching the scene unfold it's self from afar .
You were back in 1994 .
Your car was on the other side of the road parked - you standing at the side of it .
Suddenly your father's car ran off the track and was struck an unprotected concrete barrier at 211km/h .
You could hear everything .
You could see everything .
You could smell everything .
Blood -
Your father's blood -
Tears streamed on your face like falls , your hands trembling while you were running to your father to save him .
But Death was far more powerful .
Before you could go and grab him , a hand engulfed your right wrist .
Your dad was standing besides you - his unconscious body still inside the car .
You started panicking , blindness covering your eyes - head dizzy .
" Y/N breath for me come on honey listen to me . " Your dad instructed you .
Trying to concentrate on your father's voice , you did not see his body getting lift out ofthe car , bones broken , blood everywhere .
After a while your father took you back to the side of your car , watching himself being lifted into a helicopter .
" What was the last thing you felt ? " You asked him .
" The taste of blood in my mouth and pain . " He answered calmly .
" I love you dad . " You said to him and hugged him again searching for his embrace .
You cried again .
" I love you too . Stop unsettling your mind with uneasy thoughts and go finish that race . Okay champion ? " Your father said to you before placing a soft kiss on your forehead .
Suddenly you were inside you car racing at 211km/h passing the Tamburello racing line - with your father's voice saying that he loves you watching him with tears in your eyes waiving at you from the corner .
__________
" AND Y/N SENNA DA SILVA IS THE WINNER OF THE IMOLA GRAND PRIX AND THE F1 WORLD CHAMPION OF 2018 " . The presenter scream in his microphone when your car overtook Sebastian's and finished in 1st place .
Your team was screaming , but all you could see and hear was your father saying ' I love you ' and ' I am so proud of you ' .
Only when Lewis hand landed on your shoulder you looked up - at him with tears in your red eyed from crying .
He helped you to get out of your car , took of your helmet and your balaclava , staring at you .
He grabbed your face - " What happened love ? " He asked you .
" I saw everything Lewis . I saw my dad . "
__________
You were currently standing with the Brazilisn flag on your shoulders , trophy on your hands , closed eys and head looking up , while everyone - even the fans - were all silent .
After you rised for your national anthem you asked for a minute of silence for your father .
The wind was blowing - and when something made you shiver but feel safe at the same time - you knew that your father was sitting besides you .
After one minute tears of happiness fell from your eyes .
__________
2023
You are now 28 years old , married with Lewis from 2019 with one beautiful baby boy .
You were still racing .
But today was a special day .
It was your son's birtand he was turning 3 years old .
You've desided with Lewis to go and wake him up , since you've prepared his favourite breakfast and after you would let him open his gifts .
" Goodmorning Ayrton Happy Birthday honey " You both said to your son to wake him up .
Mom's and Dad's and Thank you's could be heard all over the apartment as your son was driving his toy car around the house while holding a cookie .
Chocolate was plastered all over his face .
You were both happy smiling at him .
And then suddenly you heard your son screaming in the leaving room-
" I woak up in a new Ferrari . "
" I swear I am going to kill Carlos and Charles the moment I see them." Lewis said to you while you were uncontrollably laughing .
--------------------
@unimportantbabymilksharkte
@k----a27s
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Watching From The Sidelines
[SAGAU X Shapeshifter!Reader]
Synopsis: You were teleported to genshin as their God, however there's also an imposter. You had gold blood and could simply prove your existence with a cut but you decided to let the imposter take your place. Now you get to drink cocktails and watch from the sidelines the chaos it causes.
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A/n: sorry this is so short and very rushed.
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You remembered playing genshin late into the night, falling asleep around 2:34 am. Next thing you knew you woke up to entirely new place. Sitting up, feeling the cool breeze of the air, you were laying on field of grass. You slowly got up, looking around frantically.
"w-wha? Where am I?..." You looked at your hand and realized the change of clothes. It was very basic but comfortable, most of your body covered by a cloak. You decided to put your hood up as you hear the sounds of people.
You decided to follow the sounds of cheers and joyous laughter. You noticed a large groups of people surrounding someone. That's when you see it....it was you.
Your doppelganger stood there with the archons.
That's when it hits you, you were isekai'd into genshin impact. And the fact it has to be a SAGAU scenario too!
You immediately noped out of there and basically ran the other direction, never looking back.
After what felt like hours, you collapsed onto the ground, crying. Laying on the ground in a fetal position sobbing your heart out. Wishing, praying hoping to God this was just a horrible nightmare.
You tried pinching yourself but that didn't work and felt the pain. Which only upset you more and made you cry even harder until you passed out.
Once you woke up, you felt like utter shit, you finally soaked at the idea that this is your reality and you have to live with it.
Usually in these scenarios, the presume imposter is hunted down by the archons and killed. But what if there's no imposter in the first place? If you could change your looks and identity then bingo! problem solved!
However there's an other issue, blood.
You looked at your hand, wincing at the thought.
' I have to check. ' you glance around the area, looking for something sharp like a rock or something. Once you do you, you bit your tongue and make a small cut on your hand.
" ow. " You mumbles, and yup you were right.
Gold blood.
You shook your hand and it regenerate itself back to normal. Throwing the rock aside into a pond.
You walked over to the pond, looking into the reflection.
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Years past
It's been years since, our 'beloved' creator has returned.
But in reality it was just an imposter who taken the role of God.
The real "y/n l/n" was now m/n, who owned a wealthy business with their knowledge of modern technology and goods.
They had more mora then they could count, and lived luxuriously.
After they found out the whole god thing years ago, they also realize they had the powers to prove it too!
Shapeshifting being one of them, they simply changed their gender and how they acted and was able to stay hidden.
After that they had to prove a wealthy business man their ideas and get them into fruition and the rest became history.
And now they don't have to worry a single thing.
Besides the annoying piles of papers you had to do, you practically could do anything you wished.
Which brings you to your favorite thing to do, watching the downfall of your doppelganger.
You brought an building at liyue and from your balcony sipping on expensive wine watched the mess that is happening at the temple.
People were starting to realize the imposter wasn't the true creator and lose faith in them. The imposter tried so hard to keep everything in their clutches but it wasn't working.
Even the archons we're starting to be unfaithful to them and things were getting worst by the day. And all you can do is gleefully watch from the window/ balcony in intrigued.
You knew the imposter was going to be executed but you didn't care. Because that could have been you.
After the imposter gets executed, there's a high possiblity the archons will search for you. Until then you sit in your office, scribbling away at papers drinking your wine in peace.
I might write reactions and or part two of this. Idk yet depends how well this does. But I really like this idea, also you know that meme of little girl with house on fire behind her? Yup, that's y/n basically in this au.
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robinhills · 16 days
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💫ROBINHILL Smut
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kinda scared cause this is only my third time writing smut 😣 I wanna try and make this as in character as I can but it’s gonna probably end up being OOC‼️‼️
also when you think of the hotel suite, my idea for how it would look would kinda be a mix of the penacony hotel rooms and the hotel suite from pretty women.
btw bootyhill can’t reproduce cause cyborg 🦿
꒰ა ━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━ ໒꒱
CW(s): cyborg sex, porn with plot? + aftercare/pillowtalk, established relationship, missionary, soft sex, praise, biting, hair tugging, touched starved Boothill, Makeup sex? pussy eating, crying during sex, boothill has a normal dick because I’m a pussy, cream pie.
synopsis: they're dating, semi makeup sex?🩷
“I’d travel across galaxies of torture and pain if it meant I could hold you”
~
Robin had just finished her concert, and finally got back to the hotel she was staying at, she was exhausted, but remembering the smiles she saw on people’s faces as she sang, always made her feel a bit better about her day, sure her long and excruciating makeup routine, plus the hours of dance practice, the strict diets, the hate mail, the constant business, the occasional stalkers, made it rough, but just knowing that she could have made one persons day better with her music kept her going.
But that doesn’t mean the fatigue wasn’t getting to her, and…aeons, she missed Boothill, last time they seen each other had been almost two months ago, they had gotten into an argument about how she felt like she wasn’t enough for him…and than she suggested he was cheating on her.
when they had first met, he was a “pump and dump” kinda guy, the type of guy who sleeps with a women one time, and never calls again, didn’t date, and sure as hell, didn’t stick to one gal.
of course deep down she knew he had changed, she knew he loved her, but, she was so busy all the time, and exhausted, and they didn’t sleep together as much as most couples did.
did he feel unsatisfied? Unloved? The guilt of arguing with him over something she knew wasn’t true was eating her up, she just wanted to see him again, but even after apologizing, she couldn’t bring herself to ask him to see her.
She pulled out her phone, scrolling to her texts with boothill, staring at them.
━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━
Boothill🦾🤠| 09:34
Heya Darling, I know last night we had that argument and I left suddenly, I’m sorry I’ve made you feel like you ain’t enough, and I’m gonna try and fix that, promise, 🦾 I’m gonna be gone for a few months on some business and I won’t be able to text much, I love you read✔️
Robin🎶🪽| 09:42
it’s okay, I get it, I shouldn’t have yelled at you, I know you aren’t being unfaithful, Boothill, I’m really sorry, I’ll make it up to you, none of this is your fault, I love you. read✔️
Boothill🦾🤠| 09:46
it’s fine darling, I get it, I’ll see you as soon as I can, just let me know when ya want to see me and I’ll come running over🦿, see ya, sweet cheeks ❤️ read✔️
Robin🎶🪽| 09:46
Okay, I’ll miss you, cowboy. <3 read✔️
━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━
She sighed, her hand clenching around her phone, seeing that made her feel a bit better, she smiled to herself as she walked down the halls to her hotel room.
she took out her keycard, making sure to check both ways, before quickly opening it and rushing inside, shutting and locking it as quickly as possible, perhaps she was a bit paranoid but better safe than sorry.
Aeons, now she just wanted a nice shower, and sleep, maybe she’d order a bottle of champagne and a box of chocolates.
as she walked in, she noticed the hotel suite was faintly lit by candles, she glanced at the bed, rose petals spread across it, she slowly reached in her bag for her pepper spray, aeons, she hoped she didn’t have a crazy fan inside her room.
She peeked around the corner holding her pepper spray tightly, her thumb on the button, ready to spray.
And there he was, sitting in a chair across the room, already starting to get up, only immediately to sit back down, and put his metallic hands up in defeat.
“eh..hey there…darlin?“ he said, with an unsure tone, as he stared at the pepper spray, and chuckled, slowly standing up.
“sheesh, ya still mad about the fight? Is that it?”
Robin stared for a moment, and sighed, slowly putting the pepper spray down, her wings relaxed in relief, and she rushed over into his arms, burying her face in his neck, his arms wrapping around her waist, spinning her around in his arms. “I missed you.” she whispered into his neck, holding onto him tightly as he slowly set her down, back on her feet. “aww, I missed you too, sugar.”
“im sorry.” she said, almost immediately, staring up at him, her lips curved down into a small frown, the wings behind her ears drooping downwards.
he simply smiled, and took off his hat, tossing it. “Angel, it’s fine, really, it’s okay, do I look mad to you? Cause I ain’t mad.” he trailed his robotic fingers along her cheek.
she hesitates, but she eventually lets out a sigh of relief, nodding slowly, leaning her head into his cold, metal hands. “I know you’re not..” there was a moment of silence.
he must have noticed she still looked upset, because he scooped her up over his shoulder, and started walking over to the bed and before she got the chance to object, he tossed her down on it, and quickly started to undress himself.
“d-dear?…” she says after a moment, slowly sitting up, watching him, she sighed. “you want to do this now?…”
“do ya not want to?” “no I do..but I’m tired…”
He paused, and sighed, smiling. “than ill do all the work, you just lay back and enjoy it, sugar…is that okay?”
She hesitated for a moment, she didn’t like having him do all the work…it made her feel like she wasn’t pleasing him.
but the way he stares at her, it reassures her, she sighs softly, and nods slowly. “yes.”
he chuckles softly, and slowly leans down, climbing on top of her, planting a gentle kiss on her cheek.
“Yes what? Use your words, baby.” she sighed, her cheeks growing hot, she felt that fluttering in her stomach at his words, and she clenched her thighs together, her wings perked up a tad. After a moment, she said in a soft voice, leaning back.
“Yes..I want you to make love to me.” He paused, and giggled, he felt giddy hearing that, and planted a kiss on her lips.
“Than ya hold on, sweet cheeks, we goin all night!”
~
He proceeded to help her get undressed, making sure to be extra gentle with her, the cold steel of his hands caused her to occasionally shiver or tense, he kept checking on her to make sure she was okay. once he got her dress and jewelry off, he slowly removed her bra, planting a kiss on both of her breasts, rubbing her stomach slowly. “Mm..missed my girls…and ya nipples already so perky and hard, just for me.” he chuckled, kissing her right nipple, than her left.
She shivered, and looked down at him, slowly caressing the back of his head with her hand, her fingers curling around his hair, playing with it softly.
“Don’t say stuff like that..it’s embarrassing..” she mumbled with a soft tone, sighing, her cheeks flushed brightly, her lips glossy from the wet kisses he kept giving her.
”but it’s true.” He captured a nipple in his mouth, swirling his tongue around her harden nipple, sucking gently.
she let out a small, content sigh, her eyes half lidded, the wings behind her ears fluttered again, she leaned her head back into the pillow, she smiled slightly for a moment, he always found a way to make her smile.
he slowly started moving down her body, trailing kisses down her stomach, and stopping right above her pubic area. “is this okay, baby?” Robin nodded slowly, and grabbed a pillow to hold onto, pressing it against her chest, burying her mouth in it, and mumbled into it.
“Yes. Go ahead, love.” her wings fluttered again, and she squirmed her hips around a bit.
Boothill slowly sat up, taking off her underwear slowly, he glanced at it, and chuckled as he noticed her slick. “sheesh, sugar, ya already that wet?” he paused for a moment, staring at her flustered face, and he said slowly, in a softer, more serious tone.
“Atta Girl, Lift those pretty legs up for me.” She felt those butterflies in her stomach again, but it felt hotter, she felt a throbbing on her clit, and glanced down, noticing Boothill’s erect thick cock, and how swollen and red the tip looked, thank aeons he kept his dick, her wings fluttered again, she was practically salivating. she obeyed, lifting her legs up slowly, exposing herself to him. he groaned softly, and rubbed his jaw for a moment, staring down at her pussy, his dick twitched slightly, and he sighed, almost analyzing her for a moment, his metallic fingers reached over, and he flicked her swollen bud softly, eliciting a small moan from her throat, she bucked her hips up slightly. “Boothill, please…I need you..” she cooed, squirming her hips around in a circular motion, causing him to chuckle again.
“Gosh darn, darlin…you sure are a needy lil’ thing, ain’t cha?” he sighed, and lifted her legs over his cold, metal shoulders.
“Soon…lemme prepare you first, sweet cheeks.” He leaned his hands under her, groping and kneading her rear softly, lifting her up by her butt just slightly, before leaning down, and planting a few kisses on her inner thighs, he glanced at her, before taking a small and soft nibble at her inner thigh, sucking the skin softly. she gasped, before a whimper left her lips, she stared down at him, wiggling her hips again, desperately, she hadn’t been intimate with him in so long, she didn’t realize how starved she was for him since she was always distracted with work.
“Dear…please hurry up..”
he sucked her thigh for a second more, before stopping, leaving a small red mark on her inner thigh, he sighed, and looked at her. “Relax…we don’t gotta rush everything, we have all night…” he caressed her ass slowly, and planted a loving kiss right above her clit, making her shiver.
“Move that damn pillow too, I wanna hear ya” he leaned a hand up, and snatched the pillow away, she whined.
“I need something to hold onto..”
“Squeeze the sheets, pull my damn hair, I don’t care, but don’t try and hide from me.” He quickly latched his lips onto her clit, and sucked.
she moaned softly, and bucked her hips up slightly, her nails digging into sheets, his tongue swirled around her nub, his cold, metallic hands squeezing her ass, caressing her softly.
he slowly moved his lips away from her clit, only to start lapping at her entrance, sucking and probing her pussy with his tongue, devouring her like she was his last meal on earth. he made sure to be careful not to scrape his teeth against her pussy, he kept giving loving rubs with his thumb onto her hip bone, occasionally glancing up at her, his cock pressing into the mattress, the rose petals on the bed were getting mushed up slightly by Robins squeezing and tugging of the sheets. He started flicking his tongue at her clit, switching between slow and fast every few seconds, her moans and whines filled the room, her wings got droopy from the overwhelming pleasure, and her halo tilted slightly as her head kept moving around, she moved her hands slowly to his head, tugging his long white and black hair gently as she felt that familiar, hot, tightening coil in her stomach.
“B-Boothill…’m gonna cum-“ Robin moaned softly, her body tensing up, he started giving long licks, before lapping at her clit rapidly, after a few moments, he mumbled against her pussy. “cum for me, baby, it’s okay, let go.” she than came undone on his tongue, closing her eyes as her wings fluttered slightly, her thighs clenching around his head, tugging at his hair as her orgasm washed over her, moaning out his name softly.
he kept pleasuring her through her orgasm, and once she finally relaxed, he gave a soft kiss to her pussy, and leaned up.
“glory, darlin…look how soaked you are for me!” he smiled with pride, licking his lips, he slowly climbed over her, his cock pressing against her stomach, he leaned down and wrapped a arm behind her head, the other holding Robin’s hip, caressing her softly.
“Tell me when you’re ready for me darlin.” He kissed her forehead, and brushed a couple strands of her pale blue hair out of her face, his eyes half lidded.
~
After a five minutes of letting her relax, she gently pokes his cheek and snuggles closer to him, spreading her legs slightly.
“I’m ready, love.” she cooed softly against his ear, wrapping her arms around his neck.
he stared down at her and slowly moved up, propping himself up by his elbows, he stared down at her body for a moment, and smiled, kissing her forehead. “hold on, angel..” he slowly positioned his cock head at her entrance, and pushed in slightly, inch by inch, she whimpered as she was stretched by his cock, a drop of sweat dripping down her neck.
he leaned down and licked her neck softly, and started nibbling her neck, as he pushed himself in, groaning, she squirmed a bit, her breathing growing heavier, once his cock reached deep inside her love canal, she whimpers, and tenses up, her pussy squeezing around his cock tightly. he moans into her neck, and mumbled gently. “baby..you okay?…you tightened up..ya tense?” He kisses her neck and leans up, staring down at her, he moves a hand to her face, and rubs her cheek, kissing her lips.
once he pulls away, she shakes her head, and motions for him to start moving. “D-Dear…’m okay…move..please…” he sighs, and slowly grabs her arms, pushing them down, and interlocking their hands, he couldn’t feel her skin with his hands, he couldn’t feel her warmth, but he still wanted to comfort her, to make her feel safe.
he loves her so much, he really does, he can’t imagine being with any other women.
thrust
he only wants her.
thrust
he only needs her.
thrust
he only loves her.
He groans, moaning her name softly. “f-fudge!- aeons…Robin, yer doing so good..oh..yeah, babydoll..” his thrusts are at the perfect pace, the perfect angle, hitting right against her sweet spot, making her squirm and moan, her back arching off the bed, their soft moans filling the room, her eyes watered. ”B-Boothill…I…I love you so much!” she cooed, he filled her up so well, she squirmed her hips, his cock ramming into her, picking up the speed, he groaned into her ear repeatedly, grabbing her hips as he pounded into her passionately, occasionally slowing his hips down only to speed up once again, making her moans roll off her tongue slowly, soft coos leaving her throat.
“Mm..I love you too Robin…love ya so much, darlin..”
He glanced at the wings behind her ears, and suddenly leaned his hands over, grabbing both of them on either side, using them as handles as he thrusted inside her.
A loud moan left her lips, tears of pleasure spilling out, drooling slightly, her hips bucking upwards again.
he rolled his hips up in a way that hit her cervix, making her throw her head back.
his thumb caressed her wings slowly as he tugged them as gently as he could while he thrusted into her. She cried, and he almost slowed down. “baby? You okay? You need me to stop?-“
She quickly shook her head, and whined, her body twitching slightly, legs shaking, yet she wanted him to keep going, he sighed softly, and kissed her forehead, letting go of her wings as he wrapped his arms around her, and continued his thrusts, speeding up again quickly.
They both felt their orgasms building up rather quickly, and he groaned into her hair, he could go all night, but he could see she was pretty damn exhausted. “let go, Robin, just relax, I’ll take care of everything, just let go..cmon baby, you’re so close, you can do it, baby girl.” he moaned into her ear, thrusting faster and faster, and she whined, hugging him tightly, and her pussy tightened and squeezed around his cock, her eyes squeezed shut as she felt her orgasm rising to the very top.
he moaned against her cheek, and slammed his lips against hers, kissing her passionately as they came together, his cum filling her up as her orgasm washed over her intensely, her body twitching, he kept thrusting his cum into her, and slowed down after a few moments, fucking her through her orgasm as he moved his head up, staring down at her, with a satisfied smiled, caressing her back. “there ya go, sweetheart…ya feel good?..” he kissed her sweaty forehead, as her shaken breaths slowed down, and her twitching came to a stop, her body relaxed into the bed, going limp as her wings drooped downwards slightly, after a few moments, she whispered in a soft voice.
“mhm…” she paused, and stared at him with her big teal-emerald eyes, and smiled at him. “I love you.” he chuckled softly, and tilted his head. “I love ya too, Robin.”
~
after their intense lovemaking session, he decided to let her rest for the rest of the night, after all, he had all tomorrow to make love to her.
“How was it, sweet cheeks?” He murmured to her. she curled up in his arms, snuggling closer, his robotic fingers combed through her hair repeatedly. “perfect, as always.” she leaned a hand up, and started braiding some strands of his hair, smiling slightly at him.
“Heh, as always, huh? Guess you’re a pretty lucky gal.” he kissed her forehead again, rubbing her lower back with her cold, metallic fingers, it was hot outside anyways, his cool touch felt nice. “And you’re a pretty lucky man, right?” “luckiest in the world.” She giggled softly, and continued to make small braids in his hair. after some comfortable silence, he continued. “whatcha wanna do tomorrow? Shall I take my lady shopping? You wanna go see a movie?” she paused, and kissed his cheek.
“let’s stay in the hotel all day, laze around…I need some downtime” her words made him grin, and he shook his head, and brushed the wings behind her ears with his robotic fingers. “Yes ma’am.” he eyed her up and down for a moment. “Do I get to pleasure ya all day?” “of course.” she cooed, as he started massaging her thighs, and sighed, he slowly leaned down and buried his face in her breasts, closing his eyes. “mm…you a real beauty…ya know that darlin?” she sighs and kisses the top of his head, caressing the back of his head gently as she held him close. “I know, you and half the galaxy tell me everyday.” She pauses. “I like hearing it more from you though.” he chuckles, and kisses her collarbone. “I know you do, sugar..”
they lay in silence, her hands slowly caressing his head as his robotic arms squeeze around her waist and thighs, occasionally planting a kiss on her collarbone or neck.
after a few minutes, Robin yawns, and curls up closer to him, as he pulls the blankets over their shoulders.
“I love you”
“I love you too”
Fin
꒰ა ━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━ ໒꒱
OMFG. FOUR WEEKS. FOUR WEEKS OF PROCRASTINATION, REWRITING, AND BRAINSTORMING, it’s finally done! HORRAY! 😍
I got a tad lazy near the end but I put sooo much effort and work into this, and I really hope it came out good,
I love robinhill so much and I feel like there isn’t enough content of them at all! So I hope this gets popular enough just to get robinhill more noticed, because I really love this stupid silly ship 🩷
I hope it was an enjoyable experience for anyone who was reading, good morning, good afternoon, and goodnight! - Songbird
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jewish-vents · 3 months
Note
I’m Jewish through my dad but I wasn’t raised in the community(i learned what Purim was two weeks ago, i was fully not in it), so when I got to college last august I decided to really dive in and it’s been a beautiful sort of homecoming for me. I joined SAEPi and got into Chabbad leadership at my campus, and I’m almost at the point where I can do the Chabbad Shabbat prayers before and after dinner without stumbling over my words. Gonna surprise my grandma if I see her in the summer. Anyways.
When October 7th happened it was a shock to my system, because I was a baby Jew barely getting my feet. My parents never mentioned antisemitism to me as something that could affect me in the future, it was always a thing of the past. But I was right there standing in the doorway between jew-ish and Jewish, and it pushed me over the edge. I had many friends with family in Israel. I had a couple friends whose friends died in the attack. Everyone in that group was my family. It felt personal.
When the march in dc happened I went with one of my friends, and it was sad, but amazing to see in person how strong we are. In the plane terminal on the way home he and I got cornered and called baby killers, among other things, because he was wearing a kippa and his Israeli first responder coat. That was my first time experiencing antisemitism and it was terrifying, even though I didn’t get hurt. It was terrifying even though my friend was built like a tank and would’ve protected me. It was terrifying just to sit in the train car with him and watch a woman stare at him with wide eyes like he was some kind of criminal. I stepped closer to him as if to remind her he’s human. I stared back at her with just as much fear and watched her snap out of it, confused.
Last week was holocaust awareness week at my college, and one of the things I did was spend a couple hours in the plaza reading the names of people that died. I found 34 Feldmans and Fotts. I found family names, Chana and Fayge and Jeshua and Sophia Feldman one after the other, and still am wondering if that was part of my family that didn’t make it to the US in time.
I called my grandma and asked for everything she could remember about her family lineage and how we got here, everything she had from that part of her life. I thought that there would be plenty to lean into, family recipes and heirlooms and stories, but there was barely anything. She has a Star of David necklace and a ton of repressed memories, next to nothing else. The recipes I could find were through my great aunt, some short instructions from my great grandmother on the back of a letter she sent to the aunt about what to ask for from a kosher butcher.
My family made it here in 1915 and 1921, they escaped before the holocaust, but they still weren’t untouched because of the ways they were ostracized and othered when they got here. My grandmother will barely admit she’s Jewish because none of her kids passed it on, it’s easier for her to let it go. I didn’t understand this until I realized that one couldn’t be hurt by the grief and pain of a family they aren’t part of.
Even those that survive are not left unscarred.
How could this not be personal? How could it not be generationally affective when it’s pushed so many to minimize their Jewishness out of self preservation? Raise their kids thinking they aren’t Jewish and hope their names never end up on a list of living or dead Jews? People still don’t see us as human. the antisemites still want to scar us. They want us to forget who we are.
It’s unreal to me when goyim act like American Jews in the current day are unaffected by the past and safe from antisemitism. I’ve been here less than a year and have been screamed at in an airport, have uncovered serious intergenerational trauma, and realized that of my Jewish family I have nothing to hold on to but a torn in half piece of paper with a sentence long tangent about brisket.
We are strong and we will outlive them, but god are we still fucking fighting for our lives.
.
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fappinreborn · 4 months
Note
Hiya, new anon here. Really love your preggo control app fics. I’ve an idea for one if you’re interested…
Using the app to mess around with a heavily pregnant work colleague/boss (either someone they like / dislike, depending on what vibe you want to go for). Starting and stopping the labor throughout the day, accelerating and pausing it at inconvenient moments. The mother-to-be struggling through her hectic day of board meetings, interviews, client calls, trying not to push and give birth in her clothes in front of all these people (but she does)
Pregnancy Control Part 4: Workaholic
After the date that turned into a car birth, the girl hasn't talked to me yet. I had a feeling that she may have rejected me, but since the answer is still uncertain, I needed a distraction. Luckily, I know someone perfect for my next target.
I was browsing social media, saw a group photo of my old team on my feed, and noticed that my ex-boss's pregnant. She had always been a pain in a butt, micromanaging the team and myself, so I took it upon myself for a fun revenge.
I drove on the weekdays to my old office and the phone pinged me about my boss's status: Name: Clarisse
Pregnancy: 35 weeks, 3 days
Labor: Not yet (First contraction in 34 days, 2 hours, 10 minutes )
Babies: 1 (projected to be 7.5lbs)
Current Activity: Work
Birth plan: Hospital
I linked her up and began to work. As usual, first order of business is to bump her pregnancy to overdue and increasing the baby's size to 10lbs. She's not aware of the changes yet so next, I... entranced? suggested?... hypnotized her to focus on the work and ignore the birthing signs.
With the setting ready, I kicked off her labor... and went straight to the birthing process. She now feel the full brunt of the birthing pain and her own baby's coming down. But she's a trooper and pressed on, working to get calls and potential new clients.
I nudged a bit more and the baby's crowning now into her workpants. A bulge's forming between her legs and getting more visible as her body's pushing. As the head reached fully crowning, I finally paused her birth so she can "enjoy" that burning ring of fire.
This went on for a couple hours until she got a meeting with her superiors, the Board of Directors. Other people was noticing her... tiredness, but she brushed it off. The meeting was long and arduous and when it's time for her to speak, I set her to stand and present with the contraction picking up speed and slowly undo the hypnosis...
Soon enough, she broke free and screamed in front of the directors as the baby's head popped out, panicking as the baby's making a massive bulge between her legs. Before anyone's able to help her out, I made sure that the baby came out into her pant leg so that she fully birthed her baby into her pants.
I was... satisfied with the fun revenge, though I doubt she'll get fired over this.
Anyway, I came a lot and then got a ping from the control app, notifying me that a new feature has been added. I blinked a lot as I did not believe such a feature is possible, but the app has never been wrong so far.
The pregnancy control app is satisfied with the births and has awarded me the ability to give the pregnancy... to myself.
"This... this is gonna be fun." I said.
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taylor swift ran out of material other than a) her pathetic feud w kim k because kim's EX husband called her a bitch 5 years ago and b) her racist boyfriend dumping her, so she tried to generic americana diary her way into another hit by badly copying other artists. example: olivia rodrigo getyouback -> imgonnagetyouback.
every single one of her songs sounds like 5 other songs i've already heard mushed together like baby food.
she thinks everyone's out to get her and The Evil World is destroying her image and refusing to let her be happy, but I think what's more damaging is telling everyone that your boyfriend fingered you while playing GTA with his friends and she thinks that makes him a bad boy. this woman is 34 years old.
i saw a fan say-- QUOTE-- "hot (?) take: ttpd is MEANT to be long. it's meant to tire you out and beat you up. she wants us to look up at her from the floor at the end of it so she can go "that's how you feel after 2 hours? try doing years."" like the album is supposed to be dogshit as some kind of an artistic statement of pain
how am i supposed to take any of this seriously
Today I learned you can still get asks about Taylor Swift even though I have her name in my filter lol
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dfortrafalgar · 29 days
Text
I'm Losing You... (But We're Filling the Cracks)
Having a family isn't always as easy as fairy tales make it seem. But sometimes, you just need a little bit of love... and a little bit of science.
Warnings: read chapter 1 for warnings.
Taglist: @phsycochan | @mirillua | @augustanna | @chaixsherlock | @whore-of-many-hot-men | @nerdisthenewcool | @lilypadmomentum | @1dkneo | @kitsunechan707
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Chapter 29
[Prev] [Next]
The last thing you and Law were able to fully enjoy together to prepare for the arrival of your babies was setting up the nursery in the second bedroom, after having your friends assist with clearing it out and cleaning up the carpet, that was.  Once completed, Law was now hunkered down to a strict schedule of meetings with almost hundreds of people in preparation for the biggest, longest, and most daunting surgery of his life.
But prior to that, he was able to spend an entire day with you, putting together cribs, assembling toys, installing two small dresser sets and changing tables, and organizing all of the baby clothing and supplies you received from your generous friends.  You had never seen Law more delighted, except maybe on your wedding day.  The way he carefully assembled one of the mobiles and hung it delicately over the top of one of the cribs brought a warm smile to your face.  As the days grew closer and closer, the thought of Law holding your babies made your heart flutter more and more.
The room was much smaller than your master bedroom, but it still had ample room as a nursery for two babies.  You had taken the opportunity (thanks in part to your lenient lease) to paint both of the walls a simple, muted mint-green color, calming to the eyes and yet still allowing the room to glow with light when the blinds were open.  Law had even bought a paper trim decorated with animal prints to place on the highest points of the wall, surrounding the corner where it touched the ceiling.  Both cribs were situated in opposite corners of the room, separated by a small window.  At the ends of both cribs sat their small dressers where their respective clothing, bedding, and supplies were stored, and above the dressers sat their changing tables and changing mats.  The rest of the room was dedicated to storing their plethora of toys until they were old enough to begin playing and exploring their world.  In your kitchen, two high chairs were placed against the wall, ready to be used at your table.  Two car seats with sturdy handles and foldable sun covers were ready and waiting in your extra closet, along with the folded up double stroller.  In your bathroom, Law had installed a small additional storage container for you to keep your unused breastfeeding supplies in, which he insisted on sterilizing three times a week despite not being touched yet.  Everything was ready to go, now the only thing left to do was wait.
But now, Law was spending more and more time at the hospital, which you completely understood, but that he lamented over.  Before he left every single day, and the second he returned home from however long his shift was, he kissed you on the lips before traveling down and planting two tender kisses against your bump.  The bump of which had become quite the hindrance as you approached the 36 week mark.  You were at 34 now, and according to Robin, your twins’ organs were fully developed and they’d be able to breathe on their own once born… whenever that was.
And while you were happy to have made it to 34, overjoyed even, the Braxton Hicks contractions were incredibly annoying.
“They are not indicative of labor,” your doctor had said.  “Trust me, you’ll know when your contractions go from false alarms to actual labor.”
You took her word for it.  But that didn’t make the 30 second increments of sudden cramping rippling across your belly at all hours of the day any better.  Sometimes, the pain would subside for an hour or two before coming back in full.  And they weren’t agonizingly painful, but they were prevalent enough that it was near impossible to ignore them.
While Law was at work more and more frequently in preparation for the surgery, Shachi and Penguin basically moved in with you.  They were walking Bepo, feeding Bepo, playing with Bepo, kissing Bepo, all while you were laying on your couch like a log.  A log with a huge belly and spontaneous Braxton Hicks contractions.
“What does Mama want?” Penguin asked from your kitchen, rifling through your pantry.
“Please don’t call me ‘Mama,’” you groaned.  It was endearing when Law did it, and very awkward when anyone else did.
“Got it.  What does the fat woman on the couch want?” he called back.
“Don’t make me come over there and stab you,” you yelled.  “I’m cranky enough as it is.”
Shachi emerged from the bathroom down the hall.  “Penguin quit bugging her.  That’s my job.”
“You guys are going to make me deliver early,” you snipped.
“Give the poor woman some food,” Shachi demanded, driving a harsh spank against Penguin’s ass through the man’s cargo shorts, resulting in a high-pitched yelp.  That finally forced a smile to break out on your face.
“I’m glad to see you two finally came to your senses,” you chided, trying to push yourself up against the armrest of your couch where a pillow was situated against your back to support you.  “What’s it like having graduated from roommates to sex?”
“It’s the exact same, but way hotter,” Shachi replied with a mischievous, toothy smile.
“Okay, I’m sorry for calling you fat, please stop talking about my sex with this lunatic,” Penguin groaned, emerging from your pantry with a few unopened boxes of pasta while you and Shachi giggled over his modesty.  “How does a simple baked ziti sound?”
You moaned from the couch.  “That sounds heavenly.”
Shachi left the kitchen to enter the main living space with you, sitting on the floor with his legs spread and allowing Bepo to crawl onto his lap.  “Nervous?” he asked, looking up at you.
Your hands soothed over your belly as another false contraction rippled through you in waves.  “More than nervous.  But I’ve been trying not to think about it.  I’m worried that too much stress will induce labor.”  After a brief pause, you added, “I’m worried that everything out of the ordinary will induce labor.”
The redhead hummed beside you, idly stroking the soft fur of Bepo’s head as the dog began to fall asleep on his lap.  “Do you have a hospital bag packed?”
You nodded.  “Law packed one for me a week ago.  It has all of our stuff in it… it’s pretty heavy.  He said, ‘If anything happens while I’m away and you have to go into L&D, have either Shachi or Penguin take this to the hospital.’”
“What’s ‘L&D’?” asked Penguin from the kitchen as he dumped two boxes of pasta into a large pot of boiling water.
“Labor and Delivery,” you clarified.  “We’re all assuming a lot of this is going to be spontaneous, so there’s no real indication of when I’ll have to go in because… well, we don’t know when I’ll give birth,” you explained.  “Most moms with one baby give birth at around 40 weeks, give or take.  But with twins, the average is apparently 36.  And I’m at 34.”
Shachi whistled through his lips.  “So it really could be at any moment.”
“Great time for Law to have to replace a man’s organs, huh?” Penguin piped up from the kitchen.
You laughed.  “The timing couldn’t have been better!”
The smell of baked ziti very slowly began to permeate your apartment as Penguin cooked, Shachi doted on Bepo, and you lounged on the couch, standing intermittently to continue to stretch your legs.  The contractions didn’t stop, if anything they increased in frequency as time slowly ticked away.  And every once in a while, one of your babies would kick against your muscle.
Law was fighting with every fiber in his body to stay awake.  He was leading his surgical team, for crying out loud.  He needed to be front and center for this meeting.  He drove the tip of his pencil through his pant leg into the flesh of his thigh to snap him out of his dozed state.  God, he needed coffee.
At the front of the conference room, directly in front of where Law sat, was the head of the hospital’s Transplant Transport team, which Law’s team joked was a very humorous name.  He was quite a stocky older man with a distended belly that barely fit into the gray dress shirt he had tucked into his slacks.  He was going through an itinerary on a pulled-down projector screen.  
“The patient, to remind those of you who just arrived, is a 51 year old man with a history of cardiopulmonary failure.  He has had two open heart surgeries in the past, and suffered a collapsed lung in his youth.  Both he and his family have been willing to try every treatment possible, and that is why we are meeting here today.  As far as I am aware, this hospital has never performed a double heart-lung transplant before, am I correct?”  He turned his attention to Law, who crossed on leg over his knee, asking silently for the lead surgeon’s approval.
“Correct,” Law affirmed, nodding his head.
“Dr. Trafalgar, would you mind walking your team through the procedure step-by-step?” the man asked, stepping aside to allow Law room to stand up in front of the packed conference room.
With a silenced grunt, Law stood up and smoothed his white doctor’s coat over his chest.  He took a deep breath and turned to face the room.  In front of him, every seat at the table and scattered chairs against the wall were filled by his surgery team, ICU nurses and doctors, hospital technicians involved with the case, and members of the Transplant Transport team.  “The surgery is scheduled to begin at 8:00 AM on May 12th.  That morning, a helicopter will be arriving with the heart and lungs from the donor patient, where they will then be transported by the transplant team to our operating room and hooked up to an artificial body where they’ll be kept living while we remove the damaged tissue from our recipient.  A coronary bypass machine will be used to keep the patient alive while his organs are removed and replaced.  This is the simple explanation, whenever everyone’s ready, I will begin discussing the more heavy aspects of the procedure.”
A few nods and curt words of consent were shared amongst the room.  Law took a deep breath and began speaking once more.
You were sitting naked on your bed, having just gotten out of the shower, when your phone started buzzing on your bedside table.  Your husband’s name popped up, immediately making you smile.
“Hey, baby!” you called into the receiver.  “How’d the presentation meeting go?”
A long, pent up sigh was heard through the speaker, making your heart pang with sympathy.  [About as good as it could’ve.  It’s hard explaining a 15 hour surgery to a group of 50-some-odd people.]
“Do you think your team is ready for it?” you asked, using one hand to slather moisturizing lotion onto your knees and calves.
[I think so.  I mean, I damn hope so.  I’ve had a lot of my nurses and team members review the same materials I’ve been studying to make sure everyone is on the same page.  As the day gets closer, I’m having my assistants complete simulated operations on their down time.]
“You can do that?”
[It’s a teaching hospital, we’ve got plenty of equipment.]
You grinned, dropping your legs and falling backward onto your bed, rubbing your belly with one hand while your other held your phone to your ear.  “Well, that’s good.”
Law’s voice hummed in agreement.  You heard him take another deep breath.  [I miss you.]
A part of you wanted to joke that he was only about five minutes away, but you knew what he meant.  He was missing the last few weeks of your pregnancy, something he had wanted to avoid since the two of you started trying for a baby.  It was vital to him that he was there to support you, to protect you, but once again, he wasn’t.  He was kept away from you by his taxing job, a job that he loved with a deep passion, but one that fought with his unwavering commitment to you.
Instead of commenting something witty in response, you replied with, “I know… I do too.”  A thought came into your mind, something you had read earlier in the day while your friends were out with your dog.  “Hey… Law?”
[Yeah, baby?]
“I know it’s hard to ask this over the phone but… I read online that parents with twins are more likely to suffer relationship breakdown.”
Law seemed to know what you were alluding to immediately, even without you having to explicitly state your worry.  [Remember everything I’ve been telling you?  About how much I love you and how that’s not going to change at any point?]
A smile tugged to your lips.  “Yeah…”
[Relationships break down because of stress.  But we’re good at working things out together.  We jump through hurdles at the same time because we communicate and we love each other.  That’s not going to change with babies.  Even with two new mouths to feed instead of one.]
“Your words always help me feel better,” you sighed into the receiver.  “I love you.”
[Get some rest, sleeping beauty.  I love you, too, always.]
34 weeks turned into 35.
The waiting was starting to take years off of your life, you thought.
Shachi and Penguin had bunked up in your living room.  You only saw your husband about three times while he prepared religiously for the operation.
Somewhere at another hospital, a comatose man was being prepped and signed off to be removed from life support and have his organs harvested.  And ten minutes from your apartment, a middle-aged man with his own family was getting ready to receive them.
And you were carrying two babies in your womb.  Two babies who, according to your very last ultrasound, were both facing head-first toward your cervix.  It was looking like a completely natural birth would be possible, as long as no complications arose in the moment.
Hopefully, according to your latest health workup, everything would be fine.  Your blood pressure had remained steady throughout your pregnancy, all of your blood panel conditions had been very healthy.  Your body felt ready, if the constant Braxton Hicks contractions were anything to go off of.
It was just.  The.  Waiting.
Your journal was almost completed.  You only had two more pages before your prompts switched to journaling the post-birthing experience.
You uncapped your pen and began writing.
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