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#like i also need to take good critiques to heart but
z00r0p4 · 2 months
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Anyway on the subject of sociology I'm reading a novel for my seminar and it is. Not good.
but it WAS published.
Sooooo I need to work on not taking it so personally when my creative writing prof gives me Bs and C+s.
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inkskinned · 2 months
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most writing advice is good as long as you know why it is good, at which point it is also bad. the hardest thing (and most precious thing) about being an artist is that you gotta learn how to take critique. i don't mean "just shut up and accept that people hate your work," i mean you need to learn what the critique is saying and then figure out if it actually helps.
i usually tell people reading my work: "i'm collecting data, so everything is useful." i ask them where they put the book down, even though it's too long for most people to read in 1 sitting. i ask them what they thought of certain characters. i let them tell me it was really good but i like it more when they look a little stunned and say i forgot i was reading your book, which means they forgot i exist, which is very good news.
sometimes people i didn't ask will read my work and tell me i don't like it. and that is okay, you don't have to like it. but i look at the thing that they don't like and try to figure out if i care. i don't like that you don't capitalize. this one is common, and i have already thought about it. i do not care, it's because of chronic pain and frankly i like the little shape of small letters. you use teeth and ribs in all your work. actually that is very true. i don't know what's up with that. next time i will work to figure out a different word, thank you. you're whiny, go outside. someone said that to me recently and it made me laugh. i am on the whine-about-it website as an internet poet. you are in my native habitat, watching me perform a natural enrichment behavior. but i like the dip of whiny, how the word itself does "whine" (up/down, the sound out your nose on the y), but i don't know if i want to feel whiny. maybe next time i will work on it being melancholy, like what you would call a male writer's poetry.
repeated "good" advice clangs in a bell and doesn't hold a real shape, dilutes in the water. like sometimes you will hear "don't use said." you turn that around in your head and it bounces off the edges of your brain like it is a dvd screensaver. it isn't bad advice, but it feels wrong somehow, like saying easy choices are illegal! sometimes i will only use "said." sometimes i will just kick dialogue tags out to the trash. sometimes i make little love poems where the fact that i do not say "said" is very bad, and makes you feel bad in your body, because someone didn't say something. i am a contrary little shitbird, i guess.
but it is also good advice, actually. it is trying to say that "said" sometimes is clutter. it makes new writers think about the very-small words and very-small choices, because actually your work matters and wordchoice matters. "i know," you said. "i know," you sighed. "i know." we both know but neither of us use a dialogue tag, because we are in a contemporary lit piece.
it is too-small to say don't use said. but it is a big command, so it gets your attention. what are you relying on? what easy choices do you make? when you edit, do you choose the same thing? can you make a different choice? sometimes we need the blankness of said, how it slides into the background. sometimes we don't.
i usually say best advice is to read, but i also mean read books you don't like, because that will make you angry enough to write your own book. i also mean read good books, which will break your heart and remind you that you are a very small person and your voice is a seashell. i also mean you need to eat books because reading a book is a writer's version of studying.
my creative writing teacher in the 7th grade had a big red list of no! words and on it was SUNSET. RAZORS. LOVE. GALAXY. DEATH. BLOOD. PAIN. I liked that razor and love were tucked next to each other like birds, and found it funny that he believed we were too young to know the weight of razor in the context of pain. i hated him and his Grateful Dead belt, where the colored teddy bears held up his appraisal of us. i hated his no list. it is very good/bad advice. i wasn't old enough yet to know that when you are writing about death you are also writing about sunsets and when you write about love you are tucking yourself into a napkin that never stops folding.
back then my poetry was all bloody, dripped with agony when you picked it up. i didn't know there is nothing beautiful about a razor, nothing exciting about pain. i just understood sharpness, which he took to mean i understood nothing. i wrote the razor down and it wasn't easy, but it was necessary. that's what i'm saying - sometimes it's good advice, because it's not always necessary. and sometimes it is very bad advice, because writing about it is lifesaving.
hang on my dog was just having a nightmare. i heard that it is a rule not to write about dogs - in my creative writing mfa, my teacher rolled her eyes and said everyone writes a dead dog. the literature streets are littered in canine bodies. i watched the rise and fall of his ribs (there is that word again) and had to reach out and stop the bad dream. when he woke up he didn't recognize me, and he was afraid.
it is good/bad advice to say that poems and writing have to mean something. it is bad/good advice to say they're big feelings in small packages. it is better advice to say that when my dog saw where he was, he relaxed immediately, rubbed his face against me. someone on instagram would make fun of that moment by writing their "internet poetry" as a sentence that tumbles across a white page: outside it is sunset and my dog is still in a gutter, bleeding a galaxy out of his left paw. or maybe it would be: i woke the dog up/the dog forgot i loved him/and i saw the shape of a senseless/and impossible pain.
the dog is alive in this one, and he is happy. when i tell you i love you, i know what i said. write what you need to write, be gentle to yourself about it. the advice is only as good as far as it helps. the rest is just fencing. take stock of the boundaries, and then break them. there's always somewhere else you could be growing.
i love you, keep going.
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saltoru · 9 months
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cw: talks of body image
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whenever you critique and complain of your body, gojo always quips back with a lighthearted “then just give it to me”
the first time you had this conversation, you were both standing in your kitchen after breakfast. you were wiping down the countertops when you opened up to him about thoughts regarding your body image, adding in a few lighthearted jokes and comments along the way.
he took a swig of his sweetened coffee and eyed you up and down from the corner of his eye. "then just give it to me," he exhales, setting the cup down and giving you a small shrug. you stopped wiping and looked at him confused.
"if you're not going to appreciate all this," he dramatically waves his hands in front of you, "then give it to someone who will. i certainly will, so just hand it over anytime."
amused, yet still confused, you frown and say, "how is that even supposed to work-"
he cuts you off and says, "your body will still be with you, but starting now, i'll be in charge of taking care of it." he looks behind him and adds, "you know what, my body's feeling kinda thirsty."
you watch him fill up a glass of water, mouth slightly ajar from puzzlement.
he brings the glass up to your lips and lightly taps your chin. "here, drink up."
you glare at him with furrowed brows as you somewhat reluctantly take a sip of water. "wait, so-" you begin.
"from now on, i'll be in charge of caring for your body," satoru firmly says, bringing his hands to your shoulders to make you look at him. "so you can't make those mean comments anymore. it's not right to talk about other people's bodies, right? this one ain't yours anymore until you start appreciating it."
and with that, he places his hand on your back and ushers you to the bathroom because "my body's feeling a little dirty, needs a bath."
for the next couple days, you decide to entertain his little gimmick to see how far he takes it. within these days, he diligently scrubbed you clean, fed you good, frequently made you drink water, take you on walks, and decide your outfits. you heard a lot of "how's my body doing, feeling kinda sore?" and then he'd spend the next 15 minutes massaging an area you never said was sore. "my body's craving ice cream," he'd say, and get up to get you your favorite ice cream.
"why is your body's favorite ice cream also my favorite ice cream?" you ask him as he hands you the carton and a spoon.
"coincidence," he shrugs.
"i'm feeling blue today," he'd say as he would hold up your light blue pants next to you. "hmm maybe dark blue...no, definitely light blue, even though both looks so good"
one afternoon, he suddenly said, "my body would look so good in this," and brought out his favorite baby blue lingerie set that he got you on one of his business trips. (it wasn't on sale and there was no special occasion, he just felt like getting one for you) satoru quickly ushered you to room to put it on.
"why would you randomly put your body in lingerie at 2:35 in the afternoon," you ask, trying to sound annoyed but really, you can't help your heart from fluttering at his dedication to this
"because i look good and i can," he widely grins as he looks you up and down. "c'mere, i'm suddenly feeling cold and need to be warmed up." he pats his lap and opens his arms. you bite your lip to stop yourself from smiling too hard.
since the beginning of your relationship, he had always been touchy, but this level was touchiness from these couple of days is unprecedented. his hands always had a place on your body. it used to just be one hand on your thigh or just his chin resting of your shoulder, but lately, it's been both hands on your thighs and his chin resting of your shoulder while his hands ran up your shirt. "gotta show my body extra love," he'd say when you question him. "since the previous owner wasn't so good at doing so"
the first time this happened, it lasted around a week. you found his whole gimmick amusing until after a while, you wanted to choose your own outfits, when you wanted to exercise ("not if," he insisted before giving your body back to you. "when" ), and what to eat, and after a quick promise to appreciate your body, he gave you a quick kiss and "handed it back."
this gimmick hasn't happened in a while, but every once in a while when he hears you complain, he just shakes his head and motions for you to hand it to him.
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shaynesthetic · 2 months
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The only thing I think I got right | Luke Castellan
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Word Count: 10.2k
A "Better Unknown" AU oneshot
Main Series: Better Unknown
Pairing: Luke Castellan x Minor God! Half-Blood! Gender Neutral MC
Synopsis: Out of everything that Luke thought he fucked up his entire life, Y/N leaving him where he stood was the ultimate fuck up he wishes he hadn’t. How can he fix this? And will he be able to? 
Tags: Two idiots, mutual pining, Best friends to lovers, fluff, angst with comfort
Warning: Little beta- reading, foul language
Banner by @/cafekitsune
A/N: Hello once again! This was a last-minute idea that's why I'm a little late. Happy Valentines Day! Or belated Valentines' Day if it's already the 15th for you like it is for me. Once again, English is not my first language so apologies for any grammatical errors. Critiques are always welcomed.
A/N: Also, I correct some stuff whenever I see fit sometimes. So if anyone sees any errors, no you didn't. Also also, as of February 16, 2024, I have updated the ending.
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It was the month everyone either despised or loved; It was Aphrodite’s month. A.K.A Valentines. February was always Camp Half-Blood's busiest month. With nymphs making sure every tree was lush and perfect, satyrs helping Demeter kids with preparing and picking the ripest strawberries, Aphrodite kids running around the camp supervising preparations for a feast to be held in honor of their mother alongside some Hermes and Hephaestus kids who were tasked on helping them, with a small fee of dessert that is.
Half of the campers were hanging out with their friends today, grateful that they could finally have a day to themselves, either by canoeing on the lake or having picnics in front of the beautiful views the Hill can give them. Younger campers made heart-shaped letters in the arts and crafts center to send to either their parent or the person they wanted to confess to. Others were practicing the lyre, particularly the Apollo kids, who were asked to help serenade confessing individuals, once again, with a small fee of their food portions, drachmas, and other privileges.
 
Then there was Y/N. Along with some Ares kids, they were on the training grounds, passing the time. It wasn't that Y/N was a bitter gremlin on Valentine's or anything, it was just that they treated it just like any other day. Why need a day to celebrate your love for others when you can do that every day? Was their philosophy. Truth be told, ever since their mom's passing, they just didn't see the point in celebrating. But that was before coming to Camp Half-Blood. They didn't celebrate arriving in camp either, don't get them wrong…but at least they weren’t alone. It wasn’t like the Ares kids were bitter gremlins either; they just didn’t care. Well, they claim they don’t. But you’ll have to take their word on it. 
Y/N was with Clarisse and one of her other siblings, Mark, who insisted on joining them. Clarisse was helping Y/N with the spear, also with a small fee (why would anyone work for free nowadays anyway?). They have been sparring for a few hours, and none have yet to let down. Perks of being the Ares kid and a minor god, respectively. Another sparring session commenced and Mark just watched as their sibling and Y/N hit blow after blow with each other. The clashing of wood and iron made the air sting with adrenaline, and both took advantage of it. 
The dropping of the spear took Mark off his apparent disassociation, and the scene came into view. Y/N was on the ground, with Clarisse pointing a spear to their neck, one minor move from Y/N and Clarisse could nick them. Y/N, out of breath, smiled and looked up at the girl, before nodding and raising their hands in complete surrender. "Alright, Clarisse. You got me." The child of Ares cackled victoriously at them, Mark in the background cheering. Y/N got up and brushed the dust off their clothes. 
“You’re kinda getting good. You still suck but the sparring’s getting you somewhere.” Give it to Clarisse for giving compliments, if you can call it a compliment. But Y/N took it as one. It was a rare occurrence for the Ares cabin’s head counselor to give compliments to other cabins, but for some odd reason, Y/N was an exception. Well, it wasn’t THAT odd. Y/N and Clarisse were best friends, and other campers find that awfully odd. But to Y/N, they were odd to begin with and everything in their life, from the Gods to prophecies to quests are too, so who cares? Being friends with the biggest bully and their other siblings in the camp was the least of their worries. 
Y/N rolled their eyes at Clarisse before shoving their hands in their jean pockets, making their way to a hay bale, and plopping down on it. Clarisse sat next to them, looking at the spear in their hands. “Any plans for the Goddess of Love’s Day?” Y/N asks out of the blue. Clarisse only stared at them before she started laughing with malice. Is it malice? Y/N couldn’t tell.
“What do you think, Ease?” Clarisse smirked as Y/N blushed at the nickname. It was a nickname given by Y/N’s other best friend, Luke, the son of Hermes.  It was a nickname to embody what Y/N was to Luke, as he claims. Ever since the duo came back to camp after a particularly harrowing quest, Luke never had any troubles with sleeping and claimed Y/N had everything to do with it. Y/N begged to disagree, although they weren't going to admit he was right. Ever since, that nickname stuck like glue. Luke took every second embarrassing them with the nickname. It secretly infuriated them, but Y/N knew it had to be endearing, so they let it go. Y/N had a weird set of friends, who would never get along they think, but Y/N didn’t care. A friend was a friend.  
Clarisse, unfortunately, one day had the fortune of hearing Luke call them that. It was during one of the sword fighting training sessions with Luke, and he, out of either pettiness or wanting to embarrass the hell out of Y/N, called them up to be their test dummy sparring buddy. It went smoothly at first. Y/N wasn’t new to Luke asking them to be his sparring and demonstration partner whenever both Y/N’s cabin’s itineraries and his time as a teacher coincide, which doesn’t happen that often, but when it does Luke took advantage of it. Regardless, Y/N did it for Luke. And Luke was always ever so grateful for it. 
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After a few demonstrations from Luke, the real sparring commenced. Y/N knew they had no leg to stand on and was awfully aware that Luke was the best swordsman in Camp Half-Blood. There was no way in hell they’d beat him. It was a short spar and before they knew it, Y/N was on the ground, a scene Y/N was all too familiar with to the point Y/N might as well befriend the ground they walk on by how much accustomed they were to being face to face with it. 
Luke smiled at Y/N as the tip of their sword was right in front of their throat and Y/N rolled their eyes. "You okay there, Ease?" he asked, offering their hand for them to take. Y/N partially accepted the offer, before their eyes widened. The nickname wasn't supposed to go out to everyone else. They looked at the crowd before them, Apollo kids, Y/N's cabin, and unfortunately, Ares kids and Clarisse. Shame and embarrassment became anger, and Y/N swatted Luke's hand before beelining to the exit. 
Luke stood there stunned, not realizing the gravity of the situation. It took him a while to finally understand what he had done. Y/N had firmly asked them to keep the nickname between themselves. But Luke couldn't help it. He forgets himself whenever he's in front of them. It was like Y/N was his tunnel vision, and he forgot every ounce of autonomy and thought. He knew he didn't mean to embarrass Y/N but it slipped. And now, Luke had to ask for penance. It wasn't new for the two to bicker and fight, it was in friends' nature to do so. However, this was different. Y/N was the type to always prove a point, and they'd normally react with a malice-laced “What the hell does that mean?” or a very exasperated “What?”, but today was different. They left without arguing, and that scared Luke more than all of their heated fights combined. He swallowed from worry and nervousness before apologizing to everyone in the arena, also beelining to the exit. Clarisse was there to witness everything, and for once that day, she snickered.
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Ever since that day, Ease had stuck in everyone's minds. Although no one dared to use it and stuck on calling Y/N their name, Clarisse would use it often to either taunt or tease them, there was no in-between. 
"I hate you so much" Y/N begrudgingly says, looking far away from them. Clarisse's laugh roared as a response. "Does Mr. Loverboy have any plans for you both?” That got Y/N's attention. They tilted their head, trying to decipher her words. Clarisse, ever so observant, took that as an answer and sighed.
"He's such a fucking loser." Mark and Y/N's heads snap up, nonverbally lecturing the girl for the use of such…language. It was second nature to think Chiron was listening to them, and the look of disapproval from the camp director was hard to remove. The last thing they wanted was Clarisse getting in trouble or worse…dishwashing duty. “What? It’s true, isn’t it? That boy is in love with you and couldn’t get the balls to confess to you. He's stuck looking at you like a kicked puppy every time he even catches sight of you it's so damn annoying.” It was now Y/N’s turn to laugh, albeit it was more bitter than straight coffee. They knew it wasn’t possible. Y/N knew their feelings for their best friend were genuine but for some sick, twisted, sadistic reason, Y/N decided upon themselves to assume that it was one-sided, and thus made it their mission to lock it up and throw away the key. Even if they weren’t romantically involved, they were just happy for Luke to be a part of their life. Y/N has convinced themselves. 
“I can’t believe I’m friends with idiots!” Clarisse raises her arms in frustration and annoyance, to both her best friend and Luke themselves. It was clear that they danced around their feelings and it was so fascinating that an Ares kid out of everyone saw that, out of all the kids in the camp. It was comedic, albeit sad, but comedic.
“Clarisse, you’re the only one who thinks that.” “Not really.” Mark immediately interjects. Y/N glares at the kid, Mark shrugging in response. Clarisse pumps her fist in the air and high-fives Mark in vindication.  “Even the kid sees it, Y/N. Stop telling yourself it ain’t so because it is.  Luke loves you and you love him. End of story.” 
"I'm content that he's part of my life, Clarisse. Isn't that enough?" The last sentence came out in the form of a whisper, which even Y/N was surprised by. They tried to convince either themselves or Clarisse & Mark that that was the case.  Why were they getting choked up about this in the first place? Weren't they content that he was part of their life? Y/N damns their actions for betraying their words. 
“Look, just accept the fact you like Luke. Stop pretending and stop convincing yourself that you don’t. Let your feelings out.” Clarisse blurted out. Y/N couldn’t help but not stifle a laugh. “Since when did you become Aphrodite’s kid?” Clarisse jokingly punched their shoulder, a blush creeping in her cheeks. “Shut up.” The Clarisse that they knew, the one who hid her feelings well, embodied pride, arrogance & exuded bravery, and wouldn’t dare give any advice, less a confession, was back. 
“Look, I’m just saying that you’re no better than Luke. You might be even worse than him. And I don’t like seeing my best friend sulking because they made their own bed and laid on it. Stop being stupid and accept the fact that Luke has feelings for you and you have to as well or I'll have to beat you with a stick just to get it through your thick skull." 
Y/N spent the entire day looking for Luke, who was nowhere to be found in his normal stations. They asked all his siblings about his whereabouts but nothing. Na-da. Zip. It wasn’t like him to disappear. In a day they’d see wafts of his brownish-black curly hair in the crowd multiple times and knew it was him. Whenever they see him, it was as if he's the only one they can see. 
They decided to look around the cabins once again. They bargained to themselves that if they didn’t see him that time, they’d just look for them at the dining pavilion later tonight or just assume he’s busy. They were so busy with their thoughts it took them a while to finally see the man of the hour. He was leaning against the Aphrodite Cabin, talking to a girl. The girl was blonde, and her height was the same as Luke's shoulder. Louise Clifford-Jacobs, Y/N remembered her name. They were one of Aphrodite Cabin’s kindest members. Y/N wasn’t close to them but they’ve talked once in a while and they’ve heard nothing but kind words from everyone around her.  They were laughing and the girl was giggling, excitement drawn on her face. She notices Y/N approaching him and she taps Luke's shoulder before pointing to their direction. 
Luke looked away from her and saw Y/N, smiling and waving. Luke offered them what seemed like a smile and a hand raised. The smile was something Y/N noticed approaching him. It looked as if it was out of nervousness or tiredness, Y/N couldn't pinpoint which one. It looked forced and was nowhere near Luke's actual smile. 
Still, Y/N flashed a big smile at Luke, happy that they finally found him after that unnecessary scavenger hunt to locate him. “I’ve been looking everywhere for you. You weren’t in the Sword Fighting Arena and your siblings didn’t know where you were”
Luke shifted on his feet, hung his head down, and put his hand on the back of his neck.  “Hey, Ease. Yeah sorry ‘bout that I had a lot of things to do. I’ll make it up to you soon. Honest!”  Y/N nodded their head in understanding. “Oh yeah!” they exclaimed, remembering why they were looking for him in the first place. “I was gonna ask you something. Do you have a second?” Luke began looking between them and Louise. The air suddenly felt thick as tensions and awkwardness rose as if Luke was caught between a rock and a hard place. It seemed as if Luke made his decision when he responded, "Oh shit, sorry Ease I'm in the middle of something with Louise. Do you mind?" 
The smile on Y/N’s face dropped and a forced hard line formed on their lips. “Oh. Oh okay. No worries. If it’s important I can ask you some other time. Bye Louise!” Y/N quickly walked away with hands in their pockets. Y/N felt a pang in their chest, and their heart began to beat more rapidly than normal. They didn’t know what they were feeling. Sadness? Disappointment? It seemingly wasn’t Y/N’s Day, but they convinced themselves that it was because Luke was busy, considering he was Camp Counselor after all. Yeah, that’s what it is. Y/N tried to rationalize what took place. However, Y/N evidently came up short.
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It had begun to be a daily occurrence it seems, Y/N finding Luke, asking if they could talk or hang out with them and him disregarding them, brushing them off, or telling them they're busy. Just like it became a sudden everyday occurrence, it also became a nuisance and annoyance to Y/N. Once can be brushed off as a mere coincidence but multiple times in a week? Now, that wasn't a coincidence. It had become clear to Y/N: Luke was avoiding them. But why? Did they do something to upset Luke? Couldn’t be. Was it? It didn’t make sense to Y/N. It didn’t make sense to poor ol’ Annabeth either, whom Y/N found solace in. They felt bad and shameful, talking to a literal 13-year-old about stuff they should be dealing with on their own. But Luke was Annabeth’s brother, and Annabeth knew more about him than Y/N would ever in their lifetime. So, it made sense that Y/N would approach her. 
"I could've sworn Luke was walking back and forth from the beach. I've seen him there multiple times a day. Even at the lake with the canoes, I'd see him too. He always looked nervous and his hands were clammy. He was very jumpy too. Whenever I’d ask him, he’d brush me aside, force me off his case, and make me return to the Athena cabin.” Annabeth explained one day when they asked about their sibling’s whereabouts.  Y/N was slowly getting frustrated, not at Annabeth but at the lack of answers. Who wouldn’t be? Your best friend, out of the blue, began ignoring you; without offering any answers, without explanation. Anyone would go insane just thinking about it. Y/N felt they had no one else to blame but themselves. 
Y/N felt despondent more and more every day, and it wasn’t hard to notice. Their signature smile was gone, they weren't eating much, and aloof. Their cabin-mates noticed it too. They weren't their enthusiastic self and slugged around with their activities for the day. Their siblings, wanting to distract them from whatever caused their unorthodox behavior, asked if they wanted to do hand-to-hand combat or forge weapons in the camp forge, which was what Y/N liked doing the most, but was met with a shrug and a distant stare off into the abyss. 
It wasn't just their cabin that got the brunt of Y/N’s melancholy. Half of the population in the camp did. Their beds weren't as comfortable as they had gotten used to. Campers began feeling awful emotionally waking up, some had dreams that caused nothing but dejection and misery. Some Aphrodite kids even woke up feeling nothing but heartache, even though it was supposed to be their month. Everyone was affected, and regardless if Y/N knew of this or not, that wasn’t a matter to them that they cared enough about to fix. Selfish? Probably is. 
The last straw was on a random Tuesday when once again, Y/N looked for Luke. They once again, like clockwork, looked everywhere for him. They finally found them near the Hermes cabin, talking to his half-siblings. Approaching them, they sensed that Luke wasn't in the best of moods, with his back tensed than usual and their siblings looking as if the ground was far more interesting than their older brother's lecture. The two, who they later found out were the Stolls, noticed Y/N approaching. Connor (Y/N thought it was Connor but they weren’t sure) looked at Luke before directing his eyes towards Y/N. Luke's eyebrows scrunched up before looking at what had gotten the Stoll siblings' attention. Y/N, with hands behind their back and with a thin line on their lips, greeted Luke. 
Before Y/N could greet them, Luke stopped them. “Listen, Y/N. I know you wanna hang out with me and tell me whatever this is you want to tell me. I get that. I see that. But please, not now. I’m in the middle of something here.”
Y/N’s eyebrows furrow in sadness and in turn look at the Stolls. Y/N, who has been patient with their best friend, just wasn’t having it. Out of either frustration or desperation, Y/N spoke. “I know that and I understand that. Being a camp counselor is hard work, especially with these ruffians trying to tear down every wall in the cabin.” Y/N tried to lighten up the situation, earning a snicker from the Stolls, who weren’t their intended audience. Luke just stood there, his face still the same, albeit more unamused than before. 
“But you have to relax for once. You’ve been at it for days now so I was won-““No.” Luke immediately interjects with hints of venom laced in his teeth. Y/N’s breath hitched. This was the first time in their life they’ve heard Luke speak like that. He was usually this nonchalant, chill dude. Serious when needed but a stand-up guy. Today wasn’t the normal Luke. No, it was something else. It made Y/N’s spine tingle with fear. It also made the Stolls’ back straightened. 
“C’mon, Luke. I know you’re working hard but-""I said no, Y/N. Gods above, can’t you please just listen to me once? I’m busy. Please. Leave.” Y/N gulped, looking back at the Stolls before looking back to Luke, whose eyebrows furrowed and scar making him all the more menacing. Y/N immediately left, locking themselves away in their cabin. They looked up, and just thinking about Luke’s tone and expression made them tear up. It was oh so wrong for Y/N to cry over someone, let alone a boy. But this was no ordinary boy no. This boy was special to them, and their expression of annoyance towards them felt like a stab to the heart multiple times, each time the intensity got worse and worse and as a joke, his expression kept removing the daggers only to put it back in.
This made Y/N’s overthinking tenfold. They have settled at the fact that Luke hated them, thought of them as an annoyance, thought of them as excess baggage. These thoughts overwhelmed Y/N and in turn, tears welled up in their eyes, cascading onto their pillow until they fell asleep. None of their siblings tried to bother them, eyes looking back at each other laced with sympathy towards their once exuberant sibling. Y/N ultimately missed lunch and dinner, and Luke noticed that day that Y/N was nowhere to be found. But ultimately decided not to do anything about it. 
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It was a Thursday when the downfall came. Y/N, who was feeling nothing but sadness the past couple of days, like a shift of tides, has inadvertently turned this sadness into something else; something much more dangerous and malicious: Anger. It was all of a sudden. Y/N woke up on the wrong side of the bed, and that’s when everything went to shit. Y/N’s anger poured over everyone in their cabin. Sammie, Y/N's bunkmate, asked them what was wrong. They were always there for Y/N and Y/N considered Sammie their closest sibling out of everyone. So, it was a surprise to all of their siblings when Y/N’s voice, filled with malice and venom, barked “LEAVE ME ALONE. CAN’T YOU SEE I’M NOT? FOR GOD'S SAKE JESUS ABOVE! ARE YOU STUPID OR BRAIN DEAD?” Everyone’s mouth hung open as they looked at each other, either out of fear or mere awkwardness.  Y/N wasn’t the type to scream at anyone out of the blue. They were boisterous and loud, sure, but it was out of happiness and eagerness to wake up every day. But now, it was like a cloud cast over Camp Half-Blood, even though it never rained there. 
Everyone stopped what they were doing to look at the scene in front of them. Y/N on their bed, blanket strewn about on their legs as they scowled at the now teary-eyed Sammie. Time stood still and the air got more and more heavy. Here was their zealous and exuberant sibling, who woke up and randomly just chose to pick a fight the moment their eyes opened. It wasn't like them. But no one knew what caused them to snap. Someone had to step between them and Hayden, one of the older members of the camp, guided Sammie away from Y/N before they further angered them. Essie, another one of their siblings, glared at Y/N.
Y/N, with everyone's eyes on them, finally was hugged by clarity's warmth and their eyes softened. They looked around to see their siblings looking at them with the expression of either disgust or shame, and Y/N couldn't stand to be around their siblings. They tossed their blanket aside and went out of their cabin, head down.
Maybe walking could clear my head. Y/N thought. So, they walked. And walked, visiting every place you can go to in camp, rinse and repeat. They felt like a soulless traveler, wandering aimlessly around. Lifeless and tired. As they began walking back to their cabin however, a familiar voice tried to stop them. They tensed up, realizing it was Luke, the same boy who had been ignoring them for days, who now had the utter audacity to come up to them as if nothing had happened. 
Y/N, more infuriated than before, turned around to look at the boy. He was in a smiley mood, creases formed on the side of their eyes. This was Luke’s signature smile that he knew Y/N loved, but unfortunately for him, today wasn’t the day it’d work on them. They glowered at Luke with intense fury in their eyes, and Luke, at that moment, wanted nothing more than to be sucked in by a black hole from where he stood, even though they had no idea what had made them furious like that. In the years of knowing Y/N, Luke knew they had that specific look whenever they were furious, that one that made you want to eat dirt or bury yourself alive.  It wasn’t a normal occurrence, which made the intensity of the look way worse. And whenever they did show it, regardless of how many times they’ve done so over the years, it always felt like the first, and Luke always shuddered seeing it. He wasn’t thrilled when his Ease was upset. And in years of knowing them, knew not to mess with Y/N during their spouts of anger, but what Luke wanted to tell them was very important to both of them, Luke thinks, and assumed it’d make Y/N’s mood better, just like every other plan Luke had for them when they were mad or upset. In hindsight, this was probably the worst decision Luke has ever made.
"Hey, I was looking for you. Do you have a second?" Luke put his hands in his khaki pants' pockets and smiled at Y/N. Luke's nonchalance made Y/N's expression turn from anger into disbelief. Did he actually believe that Y/N, whose face is red with anger and disgust towards Luke's actions for the past week, would just come around and entertain Luke's question? Certainly, no one would. Disbelief turned into fury, and Y/N's hands turned into a fist. They approached Luke, and for a minute Luke smiled.  Tunnel vision once again washed over Luke, and unfortunately for him, he failed to see Y/N, who without hesitation, swung at him. 
Luke was on the ground in an instant, shock painted across his face. He felt for the side of his lip, which was now cut open and oozing with blood. If Y/N was in a better mood, they’d take a picture of Luke’s expression and hang it up so people would gawk at it. But alas, Y/N didn’t have a camera, and they weren’t in the mood for stupid jokes, let alone Luke’s. 
“You really have the gall to ask me that? After what you’ve fucking done?” Y/N’s every step was filled to the brim with resentment, each step might leave and burn a permanent mark on the ground. Luke wasn't looking forward to what Y/N was gonna do to him. And Luke, in all of this, was painfully unaware of what he had done, as evident by the clueless look he had, which infuriated Y/N more. 
“You, Luke Castellan, are the stupidest, shittiest, and the most pathetic excuse of a man I've ever met in this entire lifetime. You ignore me for days, brush me off when I try to talk to you and act like I don't exist. You are just as cruel as the Gods. No, scratch that. Even worse. If you didn’t wanna be friends anymore you could’ve just fucking told me instead of you acting like you don't see me.” The anger in Y/N seemingly dissipated, replacing it with another just as intense if not more emotion: Anguish. Y/N's eyes were now filled to the brim with days' worth of unshed tears, it was as if the dam inside their heart finally burst. Luke finally, by the grace of God, realized the critical error they'd made. They didn't mean to leave Y/N in the dust like that, but Y/N didn't know that. It was his fault for not communicating with them about it. He, upon seeing his best friend, with tears in their eyes and anger and other pent-up emotions over the days splattered in both their face and actions, knew he had morally fucked up. Luke Castellan, who was very much aware of how many times he had fucked up in his life, who was so used to seeing the consequences of his actions, for seemingly the first time, was now so blissfully aware of how unaware he was of the damage he’d done. The last thing he wanted was to make Y/N feel anything but happiness. He never wanted to hurt them or make them cry. They swore one day years ago that until they died, they wouldn’t make Y/N feel that way. To be alone. To be abandoned, like the Gods did. Luke had always been angry at the Gods for ignoring them and didn't want anyone, especially their best friend, to feel that way after everything that had happened to them. But like the Gods, life was cruel like that, and promises were sometimes made to be broken. And Luke failed. Yet again. He did. At that moment, he realized just how much anguish and pain he had caused. Luke's expression softened and regret was now sprawled across his face.
Y/N raised their fist towards Luke, and he closed his eyes, expecting a second punch to land on his face. I deserve it. he thought.  But he waited and waited until…nothing. Instead, Y/N's fist faced the ground, and their head was down, tears dripping onto the dirt they were now kneeling on. They gripped on their pants like a lifeline, as they shook with rage. Luke, fully grasping what was happening, tried to approach them and touch their hand. But as soon as he tried, Y/N moved away from him. At that moment, you could hear Luke's heart shattering into millions of pieces. He'd officially ruined it. Just like everything he touched.
Y/N stood up and wiped the tears that were threatening to spill from their eyes. Their hair was a mess, shirt rippled as if it wasn't ironed and their hand was now a little bloody from the punch to both Luke's face and the contact with the Earth. Y/ N looked at Luke with malice, and Luke unconsciously stepped back.
“Stay away from me, Luke Castellan. If you know what’s good for you, I advise you to do so. Never ever talk to me again. Go fuck yourself. We’re done.”
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Relationships end, that was a given. Love was silly like that. Breaking up and losing who you thought was your forever was one of the saddest heartaches you can get in life. That was universal knowledge. But Luke, at that moment, knew that that wasn't the case.  To him, the most heartbreaking thing was to see their best friend walk away, just like that.  They essentially gave up on him, and Luke had nothing to blame but himself. The one person who he knew wouldn’t give up on them, did just that.  Friendships come and go, and over time and unexpectedly, they can break off. And all you can do is accept and move on. That was natural. But this wasn’t something Luke didn’t want to just accept. He knew this one’s reason wasn't natural. And it had one reason: him. Luke Castellan. Son of Hermes. A fuck up.
Luke laid on his bunk bed, contemplating. This had been going on for two days already. Luke waking up and doing nothing but brood and contemplate. Nobody in the cabin bothered him, aside from Chris who stepped up as temporary camp counselor for him and updated him once in a while about what they did that day, and his other younger sister Mia who cleaned up his wound upon seeing him enter the cabin, dazed and hurt. He would kill just for Y/N to say something to him, to scream at him, do something instead of the cold glares they have given them when they reach the dinner pavilion or even as they walk near their cabin. For some reason, Y/N always knew they were there, and it pissed them off even more. The silence between them was deafening, and Luke hated every minute of it. It wasn't rare for the two to fight, Y/N was feisty and loved arguing, especially when they knew they were right. But the first time, when Y/N decided that they weren't gonna argue, got Luke shaken up and scared. 
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Luke had looked everywhere for Y/N that day. He knew he royally fucked up, calling Y/N by their nickname that they’ve agreed upon should be kept in secrecy. Put that in the list of things Luke has fucked up in the years of their friendship. Worry filled Luke’s brain. What if they went to the forest and got hurt? Luke wouldn’t forgive himself if that happens. He’s lost a lot of people in his life, and when Y/N came into his life, while ambivalent at first, later on promised to himself that he wasn’t gonna let anything happen to Y/N. He had sworn to protect them, even though he knew they didn’t need him. Luke was just about to give up, his nerves shaken as he anxiously thought of multiple what-ifs in his head, when he found them ultimately in the last place they never bothered to search: the campfire. 
Y/N was sitting on the ground, hugging their knees. They were looking at the ground. Luke hesitantly walked towards them and sat next to them. The fire crackled as a girl, who was not older than 8, tended to the flames. He could’ve sworn he's never seen this girl in the years he’s been here but that didn’t matter. Y/N sensed someone was next to them, and looked up. Luke sheepishly smiled at them and in turn, Y/N looked away. 
Luke sighed and laid his head on their shoulder, closing his eyes. Y/N didn’t shrug him off, which was a good thing but they weren’t looking at him. They just sat there, the crackling of fire the only thing you could hear as it danced like two lovers in an intense dance for their lives. Silence went by minutes. No one dared making a sound. 
“I’m sorry.” Were the first words that pierced the silence that surrounded them. Luke sat right up and looked at Y/N who was now looking at them with the most heavenly eyes Luke had ever seen. Their eyes were out of this world, it was as if planets and novas were encased in them. But what ruined it was the gloss. Not because of the glossiness of their eyes, but the cause of it. Y/N had been crying. And it was Luke’s fault.
“Why are you apologizing, Ease? It’s not your fault. It’s mine. I embarrassed you. I promised that I wouldn’t tell anyone about it. And now here you are, crying. I also promised I wouldn’t make you cry either.” He sighed before putting his forehead on their shoulder, closing his eyes. It was another minute before Y/N spoke again. 
“It’s stupid, Luke. It was petty. And I made it a big deal by leaving. I shouldn’t have embarrassed you in front of the campers. I fucked up. I’m sorry.”
The pair looked at each other in lopsided smiles. “We’re both a mess, huh?” He looked at them again with the biggest and doofiest smile he could muster. Then, giggles. Giggling and laughter roared in the air as the two non-verbally apologized to each other. Hugs and jokes were shared that day in front of the bonfire. You couldn’t burn that scene whenever you tried. It was one of the best days the two ever had.
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Emphasis on had. Luke thought. Now, he lays there, contemplating the bridge he’d burn from the one good thing in his life. What Luke couldn’t forget the most were their eyes, filled with hate and malice towards him. Seeing them like that felt like the entire world, his entire world, fall apart. And then they left them there standing, forced to pick up the millions of pieces he himself destroyed.
He knew he loved them; he really did. He could lie under oath and people would know he’s being disingenuous. He’d known for a while about what he felt for them. The way he looks at them from a distance as they laugh with their cabin-mates, a smile unconsciously creeps into his lips. The way their eyes drag towards them instinctively in the crowd. The way they put him over themselves and how much they accommodate him. Those were some of the things they loved about Y/N. And it took Chris and the entire Hermes cabin just to make him realize just how much of a love-sick puppy he was. Although he knew of his feelings towards them, just like Y/N though, they were both content in being part of their lives. Just like Y/N, He was scared that he might fuck up if they both got together, and he didn’t want to lose them. So, he convinced himself that keeping them in their lives platonically was the only solution they had. They were both idiots. Laughing at that now, Luke couldn’t help but slap himself in the face. You kept them platonically but you still fucked up. Way to go, Castellan. 
He was surely convinced he was just okay to keep them in their lives platonically. He didn’t even initially plan anything on Valentine's Day. Just hanging out with them and doing nothing was okay for Luke. But as Valentine’s Day crept around the corner, Luke couldn’t help but think of holding their hand that day as fireworks sprayed in the sky, red and white lights dancing and looking down at them. He couldn’t help but dream of holding them in their arms, kissing them on the temple, smiling down at them as they both looked at each other in adoration. He knew he had to make a move, as both were as stubborn as mules. Y/N had always been the one to initiate everything. From hanging out to just lollygagging around camp. Y/N has always been there for him. It was always Y/N. Y/N. Y/N. He swears he could make their name a chant, just to immortalize this being he could’ve sworn was given to him by the Gods themselves. What did he do to deserve such an angel? He doesn’t know. He realized that for once in his life, He wanted to initiate something first.  Not Y/N. Him.
He felt his heart ripping out of his chest, and at that instant, he knew he had to do something. At first, he couldn’t find Aphrodite kids who he was close enough to ask for advice since they were all busy with the Feast. But the Gods smiled down upon him that day, in the form of Louise Clifford-Jacobs. Luke wasted no hesitation asking Louise about what to do on Valentines, the perfect spot in Camp Half-Blood, the perfect food to serve, everything. He was so focused on planning he didn’t realize Y/N was next to him, the last person he hoped to hear him ask an Aphrodite girl about his plans for them. Looking at Y/N and their smile, Luke felt his heart beat in his chest. His ears turned red as the love of their life smiled upon them, like sun rays that greeted you in the morning.  Y/N had wanted to ask him a question, and although he wanted to entertain it, he still had to plan their date. Luke knew he hadn’t had much time but he didn’t wanna make them leave. Sacrifices were needed to be taken, and Luke had asked them to leave. The smile that left Y/N’s face broke his heart, but he had to do something so that his plan wasn’t blown. 
Luke watched as Y/N left and felt a pang, it was as if someone had shot them directly into his chest. Looking at Louise, they instinctively knew they had to make the date as special as ever. 
But all the planning. All gone to waste because Luke had failed to focus on the one good thing he had. He was so intent on making the perfect date he forgot who it was for. And now Luke was just there staring into the abyss of the bunk bed, dejected that not only he lost his best friend, his grand plan was useless now. Maybe he could give the plan to Percy? He wasn’t sure anymore. 
A knock on the door interrupted his brooding, and he sat up to see the last person he expected to see today. Clarisse La Rue, in all her Ares fashion, walked inside and sat next to Luke. She intently looked at Luke, anger pulsing through her veins. Luke gulps in response.
“I wanna punch you so bad, Castellan.” She started. “So, so bad. You don’t know how much you fucked up.”  He flinched. He knew how hard Ares kids’ punches are, but Clarisse’s was deadlier. You could’ve hit him with a stone and it would hurt way less. She continues. “But I won’t.” Luke sat up, confused. If she wasn’t there to hurt him then what? Luke couldn’t wrap around the scenario happening right now.
“Clarisse, if you’re looking for Capture the Flag alliances, go look for someone else. I’m not in the mood to think of strategies nor care for any bartering you're gonna do.” Luke bluntly stated as he plopped his head on his pillow, covering his eyes with his arm. He hears the girl sigh. “As much as I would really like to make an alliance with you, I’m here for Y/N”
This caught the boy’s attention as he sat up again. He stares at Clarisse before she starts to speak. “Look, I’m probably the last person you’d expect to play cupid but goddamn you both are annoying as fuck. I’ll cut to the chase, Castellan. My best friend is fucking in love with you, they just couldn’t admit it because they’ve made their thick skull think they didn’t have a chance with you. It has gotten worse ever since you started your little game of ignoring them. Now, I know you like them too, the way you look at them makes me wanna vomit but whatever. And I know you didn't mean to ignore them. This is all just a big misunderstanding and Idiot 1 and 2 do nothing but brood and sigh all day. I for one think it's annoying as hell.” Clarisse sighs, reclining on the railings of Luke’s bunk. " The point is, I’m not gonna sit around and see them cry over some idiot. Now, get your sad, pathetic ass out of bed and tell me your plan so I can help.”
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Luke and Clarisse indeed formed an unlikely alliance. Although not in Capture The Flag, it was for Y/N so it was the next best thing. Luke’s plan was simple: it was a simple dinner date at the camp’s gazebo, with the gazebo facing the lake. Luke used his abilities as a Hermes kid to smuggle in Y/N and his' favorite food. Clarisse, who had connections with Aphrodite kids through her other best friend Silena, had asked them to help Luke with his case. They didn’t hesitate, seeing that love and courtship was their forte. Louise and Silena lead the operation, Luke owing them big time for this. In all of the planning and decorating, Luke had gotten antsy. And Silena was getting rather annoyed. Using her charm speak, she had managed to calm Luke’s nerves. Sighs of relief echoed as Luke decided to sit as far away as the Aphrodite kids and let them do their jobs without looking like a strict supervisor. 
Silena and Clarisse had known for a long time just how much the Hermes boy yearned for Y/N. In fact, the pair were taking bets on who would confess first, with Silena betting that Y/N would meanwhile Clarisse was betting on Luke. In the meantime, it seems like none of them were winning. And they wouldn’t like that now, would they? That’s why they agreed to help him. Though it was the second reason, the real reason why was sweeter, but they would rather be caught dead than admit that.
Whilst Silena and Clarisse helped prepare, they couldn’t help but look back at Luke. His leg wobbled up and down and he kept wringing his hands. Sweat was rolling down his head as his eyes shifted, while silent murmurs left his mouth. In the many years these two have known Luke, they have never seen him like this. He was the epitome of confidence, both in the eyes of his siblings and everyone in the camp. He was ever so self-assured with both his abilities in sword fighting and his abilities as Head Counselor. Yet here he was, a blubbering mess.  It was definitely out of character for him. The two kept snickering every time they looked back at him, and they looked back at each other, rolling their eyes.  This was definitely blackmailing material for the future. 
That night on Valentines Day, the feast had commenced in celebration of the Goddess of Love. With everyone in the dinner pavilion, Chiron had shared their usual pleasantries, and just like clockwork, finally asked everyone to commence the celebration. Everyone was dressed in their best clothes and eating well tonight, courtesy of the Aphrodite cabin, kids who knew they helped in preparations can finally eat up and pat themselves on the back for a job well done. Couples from different cabins were allowed to eat next to each other, as their single siblings watched in horror and disgust. Burning of offerings had also commenced tenfold, with everyone thanking the Goddess of Love for a very successful day. As the celebration goes on, Y/N sat next to their siblings, half of them sitting with their loved ones, while the rest talk amongst themselves. They sat in the middle, aimlessly picking and playing with their food. 
A cough took them out of their state. Clarisse, who was wearing her best red dress, and Silena who absolutely looked stunning in their off-shoulder dress stood next to each other, looking at them. Y/N in turn looked up at them, eyes filled with gloom. “Don’t tell me you’re gonna be like that the entire night, Y/N”.
“And what if I was?” They barked in retaliation. They were in no mood to bicker with the daughter of Ares. They weren’t also in a mood to celebrate this supposed-to-be happy occasion. Why would they? They just lost their best friend and the person they have been yearning for in just a week.
“Well, that’s no good now, is it?” both snicker at each other.  They sigh before standing up, back hunched and their arms on the table. “Look, I’m really not in the mood to entertain pranks nor play with matchmakers, no offense Silena” she smiled and nodded back to them.
“Well good news. This is no prank. Silena and I decided that since you’re alone this Valentine’s you could come join us on a little singles bonding.” Y/N raised their eyebrow in suspicion. They had a hunch that whenever these two were together and involved, it wasn’t gonna be pretty. These two, besides them and Clarisse, are partners in crime. And when there’s trouble in the air, Clarisse and Silena are the main culprits.
Y/N sighed however. Despite not being in the mood, they had no plans whatsoever. They were, however, in an entertaining mood. There was nothing to lose. So, they humor them, albeit begrudgingly. They rolled their eyes and looked back at them. “Fine. What do you want me to do?”
The girls smile and jump in excitement. Seeing this commotion, they knew something was up. These two were planning something, and Y/N was mentally cursing themselves for agreeing. There was fire in Clarisse’s eyes, and in the many years they’ve known her, they knew exactly what this look was: Determination. A determined Clarisse was dangerous, that they knew. They would stop at nothing to get things done, regardless if it'd kill her or not. An over exaggeration on Y/N’s part but you get the point.  But curiosity was a killer. And well, satisfaction will bring them back.
Silena dragged Y/N away from their table, no one paying mind to them leaving, while Clarisse pushed them forward. They walked and walked until they ended up in the Aphrodite cabin, desolate with no one but themselves. They dragged them to the cabin’s vanity table that was lined with different hair items and products, from hair gel to combs. Aphrodite kids were stacked, and Y/N anxiety never faltered.
“What the hell are you two gonna do to me?” they asked, voice laced with fear. Clarisse’s usual cackle filled the cabin, alongside the sound of a turned-on hair dryer. “Oh c’mon, Y/N liven up. It’s Mom’s Day. I’m giving you a makeover, of course. Courtesy of the entire Aphrodite cabin.” Y/N looked at themselves in the mirror and realized they look utterly horrid. Their hair stuck out in every direction; their eyes red from the constant crying. Eyebags evident from the lack of sleep. Silena was right, They thought. They did look like a mess.
 “Think of it as self-care, Y/N. As the Head Councilor of the Aphrodite cabin, we are humbly your fairy godmothers for the evening.  I’m gonna make sure you look perfect and stunning. Now. Face the mirror.”  
Silena was right. Y/N did look perfect right now. They looked the best they’ve ever been ever since they entered camp, hell, even before they were homeless. One word can describe them right now and it was this: Ethereal. They looked like you could put them in Olympus and no one would be any wiser, no, scratch that, they looked more than just a God. They looked like a celestial being. Silena and Clarisse couldn’t help but gawk at their joint masterpiece and Y/N looked at themselves in the mirror, basking in their appearance. 
Y/N couldn’t help it as a tear rolled down their cheek, which Silena tsked before wiping it off. “Someone who looks celestial tonight has no right to cry. Look at you!” Both Clarisse and Silena were now beside them, and they gawked once more at them. Their confidence skyrocketed ten-fold, and by God they didn’t think they were even capable of looking like so. They looked at both Clarisse and Silena, nodding at them, eyes closed, feeling ever so grateful for their job tonight. But they knew the night wasn’t over, and without hesitation, Clarisse took their hand and led them out the cabin.
It was a short walk and before they knew it, they reached the lit gazebo. Y/N’s eyes sparkled as they stared in awe at the decorations that littered it, fairy lights in little jars, red and white clothes draped at the roof of the gazebo. Food was on the rose petal decorated table, with a beautiful table setting with handkerchiefs folded into swans. But that wasn’t the only thing that was in there. A curly haired boy sat on one of the tables, dressed in a suit, looking down and twiddling with their thumbs. Luke. They thought.
All the happiness they felt have now dissipated, and fury once again taken hold of them. “What the hell is this?” They spat venom, and the pair couldn’t help but flinch in retaliation. Looking up, Luke saw Y/N, and he couldn’t help but gawk at them. Luke had always known Y/N was ethereal, but with Silena and Clarisse’s help, they were all of a sudden out of this world. It was as if Y/N embodied Aphrodite, you can even say moreso, however you wouldn’t catch Luke saying that aloud. All the gawking Luke did however, was ruined when they saw their face. They were infuriated. Angry that they were tricked by Silena and Clarisse. Angry at him. 
Luke wasted no time and made a beeline towards Y/N. "What is he doing here?” Y/N asks Silena and Clarisse, and the duo stayed quiet, looking at Luke for help. Luke sighs, putting both his hands up near his chest, a sign that he wasn’t there to put up a fight. “Don’t get mad at them, Ease. They helped me.  I asked them to trick you. I’m sorry.”
“I told you that I didn’t wanna see you anymore, Luke.” “I know that but please hear me out.” Without saying a word, Y/N began to turn around and walk away. Who wouldn’t be pissed? The last person they wanted to see right now was standing there, whilst they recruited their other friends to basically trick them into seeing him. To say they were pissed was an understatement. 
Not wanting for Y/N to leave before he explained himself, he grabs their arm. The touch felt electric to Y/N as they spun around as Luke held them. And for the first time in a while, Y/N’s expression softened. It had been days since the two had hung out, let alone seen each other. The fight had made them more distant than before, and Y/N couldn’t help but yearn for Luke’s touch. As skin contacts skin, his touch made them putty, and all the anger they’ve kept just seemingly dissipated, and there was nothing left but yearning. Painful, painful yearning. 
“Please, Y/N hear me out. I promise I’ll make it worthwhile.” Y/N closed their eyes, sighing. Y/N knew Luke was their weakness, it had always been. And as he stood there holding them, all thoughts were officially lost. They nodded, and Luke for the first time in a while had his signature smile plastered on their face.
Luke looks at Y/N’s eyes, enamored as the lights from the gazebo danced in it. The more he stared at their eyes, they felt like a moth drawn to the flame. He could stare at it forever, like how Narcissus looked at his reflection in the water, but Luke had to snap out of it, and finish the hell that he had started.
“Listen, Ease. In the years I’ve lived on this Earth, I’ve recognized just how much I’ve fucked up. I was very much aware of how much I’ve done so. With Hal, with…Thalia.” Luke looked at the ground, tears began welling in his eyes. Y/N, who looked at him with adoration, wasted no time putting their hand on his cheek, guiding his eyes back to them. Luke looks at Y/N, before laughing, tears betraying him as they rush down like a waterfall. Y/N’s expressions softened even more, as they used their thumb to swipe any more tears that dared leave Luke’s eyes. A nod left Y/N, encouraging Luke to continue. The gesture made Luke a little more courageous, as he swallowed, before continuing. “With dad’s quest. I knew how much of a fuckup I was. I was always aware, and for some odd reason, when the consequences of these fuck-ups arise, I just ignore them. Not the healthiest option I know but I just stopped giving a fuck, you know? It is what it is mentality.”  As he looked at Y/N, he took their hands into his, and suddenly yet all at once, it felt exhilarating. Their hand in his felt bright and warm, a feeling both of them never felt before. In that moment, they both seemed to forget all the troubles, trials and tribulations they’ve experienced, and what matters right now were just the two of them, in that moment, a scene like in a movie.
“But seeing you walk away like that with the angriest and furious eyes with tears cascading down your face, I realized something.” He breathes out as his grip on their hands tighten, it was as if at any minute, Luke would lose them, like they would drift away from them, never to be seen again. “I realized that out of all the fuck ups I did, hurting you was the worst one I’ve ever done. In that moment, I realized that making you feel alone and small was the biggest fuck-up I have ever done. For the first time, It felt as if some part of me died that day. Out of all the mistakes I've done in my life, you were the only one I was willing to fix."
Luke adoringly stepped forward more, and the space between them left as if it never existed. Luke moved his hands to their forearm, and in turn they put their hand on his chest. “You, Ease, made me realize that out of everything in my life, you’ve become the only thing I got right. I could forget everything, and you’d still be the only constant I’m thankful the Gods had given me. You're the only one who has seen the reds and the blues of my life and despite everything, you just burned them all up. And you, with all your love for an idiot like me, kissed them goodbye.”
“I’m here to fix things between us, Ease. Let it be known that I’m not willing to give you away that easily. Not in this lifetime. Not in the next. So please, I hope you forgive me.”
Y/N, upon hearing Luke’s words, couldn’t help but allow the tears to fall from their eyes. Overwhelmed with emotions, they wasted no time putting their arms around him, sobbing as they cling on to him, scared that they might fall away from them. It took Luke a minute before wrapping their arms around them as well, swinging them back and forth as the pair laughed and giggled in each other’s presence. Tears and smiles were shared amongst the pair, and Luke, smitten in love, broke the contact first, his hands on Y/N’s waist. The pair basked at each other’s presence with adoration, as they stood there, foreheads touching.  Y/N’s hands crept once again to Luke’s face and in that moment, as they looked at each other, time stood still, silence washed over them. “Ease, I promise you, you won’t regret it.” He giddily smiles at them, and they chuckle. 
“I know I won’t.” Y/N replies. Luke leans in, and in sync, their lips move against each other. The pair melted in each other as Y/N placed their hands on their neck. Y/N’s lips were soft. Luke thought. And a smile crept into his lips as his dreams of what their lips felt like on his was now in fruition. Electricity filled the air as the two savored each other, apologies and I love yous passed back and forth with each kiss. It was invigorating, the pair thought. He parts his lips for them, allowing each other to explore and satiate the hunger they had for each other. Their hands slipped into his curly hair and in turn, Luke pulled them towards his body more.
They broke apart after a few minutes, the two catching their breath. As they looked at each other, a sudden boom made their heads snap towards the sky. Red and white lights danced in the sky, covering the entire valley with the Love Goddess’ colors. The two looked up at the sky in adoration as they held onto each other, Luke’s head on their shoulder as they laid their head on his, with Luke’s arms around their waist and their hands resting on top of his. 
Silena and Clarisse watch on as their friends bask in each other’s presence, and in turn they look at each other. Clarisse held out a hand, and Silena couldn’t help but groan as they fished in their pockets, placing a few drachmas on the God of War’s child's palm. Clarisse nodded a thank you to Silena, before both of them left to give the two some deserved privacy.
Never in the million years Luke would think the Gods would give him someone, let alone a person who loved all of him. Y/N, his North Star, his tether, his world. He didn't expect them, out of everyone, to now be in his arms, fully embracing the feeling they had for each other that they were so afraid to admit before. Now, as his name fell from Y/N’s mouth, he smiles as he basked at the moment, silently thanking the Gods for this one. And maybe, just maybe he thinks, he can forget about why he hated the Gods in the first place.
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kitixie · 9 months
Text
Little Girl Gone (pt 2)
Little Girl Gone / T.S. (part 2) 
part three here
Synopsis: You agree to meet up with Tommy for dinner, but when it doesnt go to plan you find yourself in a dangerous situation.
warnings: violence (not extreme, very canon typical), tommy is not nice but i promise it'll make sense later, cursing
word count: 2.4k
taglist: @budugu , please let me know if youd like to be tagged!
information: Thank you all so much for reading, it warms my heart to know someone enjoys my writing! please leave a comment if you have a critique or anything else to say!
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Around 4:30 the following evening, you began to get ready for your dinner with Thomas.
As you brushed and styled your hair, you thought of his strange mannerisms from the night before. He had seemed off towards the end of the conversation, and that was something that never happened, as nothing ever threw Thomas off. Just as the final touches of your hair and makeup came together, you realized the time. You had been so lost in your thoughts and in your indulgent hair care and makeup routine, that you had spent an hour primping and priming. Now only thirty minutes away from Tommy’s arrival, you needed to pick out a dress.
To a man, picking out a dress for dinner may seem like a small task in the grand scheme of his day, but all women know this to be false. First, you pick a dress. Then, you have to pick coordinating stockings, an overcoat, sometimes an undercoat, a bag, gloves, and depending on time of day, a hat. So what most men would deem as a quick process, isn’t a quick process at all. You did happen to be in luck though, as your favorite dress was one of the only items of clothing you’d hung up in your small closet after you moved in. You had your stockings from the night before, and they were a perfect match for your skin tone so that was also an easy choice. You decided to forgo a handbag, as you’d just be going to the Shelby’s, so you wouldn’t need any money. For shoes, you settled on a pair of well-broken-in kitten heels. This outfit was out of your recent rotation, given the odd jobs and such you had been working after your fathers death and mothers disownment, but Tommy always dressed to impress, so you thought you should too. Following that train of thought, you added a pair of your mothers white satin gloves, and awaited his arrival at your place.
6:00 pm
A loud knock sounded through your apartment, and you quickly jumped to open the door. There, in all his glory, stood Thomas Shelby. Looking good as ever in his black suit with a pressed white dress shirt, this time his hat folded in his hands.
“Y/N, you look lovely this evening.”, he remarked, eyes scanning you from head to toe.
“Thank you Tommy, you look handsome, as always,” you blushed, feeling the heat rise to your cheeks.
Tommy smiled, offering his hand to help you out of the door and down the stairs of your apartment. You accepted his hand, loosely holding it in yours, before dropping it to turn around and lock the door of your home.
Once the two of you had made it to Tommy’s car, he opened your door.
“Always the gentleman, aye Tommy?”, you laughed, giving him a soft smile as you stepped into the car and sank down into the passenger seat.
“For you, yes, always.” He nodded, reciprocating your smile, and gently closing the door.
He rounded the car, getting in on his own side and starting the engine up. It gave a sputter, then turned over, allowing him to put it in gear.
“I could take a look at sometime that if you’d like Tommy.” You spoke softly, wanting to offer your help.
“How do you know anything about automobiles? Did you work as a mechanic in your time away, Love?” He joked, a small laugh followed by a toothy smile coming from his mouth.
“Yes, actually. I did.” You said sternly, not appreciating the mans sarcasm.
“And what else did you do in your time away? I suppose you also learned to train horses, or fire a gun?” He joked again, clearly not understanding your short tone of voice.
“One of those I did, the other I am still clueless about. Feel free to guess which.” You stated, now having grown angry at his teasing.
Tommy feigned a sigh, followed by his imitation of a horses neigh. The two of you remained silent for the remainder of the ride to Watery Lane, only for the conversation to be interrupted by Tommy as the two of you pulled up to park in front of the house.
“Just so you know, Arthur and Pol are here as well. They wanted to hear all your stories about your time away as soon as I told them I was bringing you over.” He spoke, his gaze remaining on your face.
“Okay, Tommy.” You spat, still quite upset about the conversation at the beginning of the ride.
Before he could ask any questions, you pulled open the door to the car, getting out. He tried to catch up to you, but you made it to the front door of the Shelby home before he did, and let yourself in the house. Old habits die hard, as they say.
Once inside the home, you surveyed your surroundings. Not much of the decor had changed, a few updated photos here and there, but mostly everything was still in its rightful place. You made your way through the house at a leisurely pace, admiring all the once familiar details that now seemed new. You made your way to the dining room, while Tommy still trailed behind you, watching your every move.
“Oh dear, it is so lovely to see you again! It’s been so long, how are you?” Pol said, quickly rising from her chair to give you a warm, yet firm hug.
“I’ve been good Pol, thank you. How have you been?” You returned, not only as a formality but because you were genuinely interested in her life.
As Pol rattled off her answer, talking about ‘business this’ and ‘this family that’, you noticed Tommy move behind you. He came around to your left side, pulling a chair out. You remained standing, not wanting to sit if that was where he had wanted to sit, but the soft hand on the small of your back encouraged you to take the seat. You briefly nodded up at him and gave a soft smile, then continuing to listen to Pol.
After Pol had placed food for everyone on the table, you all began eating. Someone had made a delicious meal, one of your favorites. You first assumed it was Pol, but when you complemented her, she quickly told you ‘Oh dear, I didn’t make this’ and cast a look at Tommy from across the table. You didn’t put any effort into figuring out what that glance meant, rather you just enjoyed the food and answered their occasional question. The questions weren’t anything to outrageous, until one came tumbling out of Arthur’s mouth.
“So, Y/N, what made you come back to the grand ol’ town of Small Heath?” He said, smiling at his question.
“I, uh,” you swallowed. You had truly hoped no one would ask, but you should’ve expected it. You cursed yourself for not preparing an answer ahead of time.
Your mouth ran dry for a moment as you tried to formulate what to say that would keep you out of the most shit. You didn’t want to blurt out the truth, but they most likely already knew it anyways, they were the Shelby’s after all.
“My mother and I had a disagreement about my…life plan.” You spoke, satisfied with your answer.
“What life plan, dear? What does that mean?” Pol added to the questioning.
“Probably the same life plan that included her learning about cars and horses,” Tommy said under his breath, but not nearly quiet enough, as the entire table heard him.
“Now Thomas, you know women can do what they choose.” Pol reprimanded, giving Tom a stern stare.
“Yes, women can.” He spoke, “but not Y/N.”
“And why not Thomas? Am I not a woman?” You said, letting your fork clank against your plate. He had your full attention now, and not in a good way.
“You are, you’re just…different.” He spoke, his gaze now on you instead of Pol.
You scoffed, and shook your head at him. You couldn’t believe what he was saying. You didn’t recognize the Tommy in front of you, your Tommy, the one from 5 years ago, would have been uncaring about your interests, and glad to have someone be so knowledgeable about certain topics. You just stared at him for a moment, waiting on him to say something, anything, that would explain his previous remarks. But nothing ever came, and when you realized nothing ever would, you stood from the table, thanked Pol and Arthur for the dinner, and headed for the door.
Once outside the Shelby house, now all alone, you began walking. You were initially going to go home, but the dwindling liquor supply in your own cabinets encouraged you to find The Garrison. You walked down the streets, that still held a handful of people, mulling your thoughts. Tommy acted like a real jackass, especially given that he was the one who invited you over. By the time your anger had mostly settled, you reached the doors of The Garrison.
9:00 pm
You’d been sat at the bar of The Garrison for around an hour, and were plenty of drinks deep. You now held no anger towards Tommy; hell, you could barely picture his face in your mind. You hadn’t intended on getting drunk tonight, but the lovely barmaid by the name of Grace had been giving you all your drinks ‘on the house’, and who were you to turn down free alcohol? Especially given how you’d left your purse at home because you were ‘just going to the Shelby’s’.
A loud grunt came from behind you, followed by a man sitting down on the stool next to yours. You gave him a quick glance and nod, not recognizing his face. 
“What’s a pretty lady like you doing at the bar all alone, aye?”, he questioned, breathing his hot, putrid breath into your face. 
“One, I’m not alone. Two, none of your business, aye?” You said, hoping to be forceful enough that he got the hint and left you alone. 
Unfortunately, he did not. The next thing you knew, he had his fat arm wrapped around your waist, pulling you closer to his barstool. 
“Now listen here, little lady,” he breathed, “You can come to the back alley with me on your own will, or I can make you.” He threatened, brandishing a bowie knife from his waist. 
You sat for a moment, considering your options. You knew you definitely were not going into that alley, even if you had to die bloody for it. You quickly came up with a plan in your head, and before you could talk yourself out of it, you acted. 
“Fat chance, ya bastard. Now let me go,” you said loudly, hoping to draw some attention. 
The man laughed at you, and moved his hand up to grab your shoulder, encasing your frame in his large arm. There was no denying he had size on you, but you had speed. And speed always won. You quickly ducked under his arm, knocking your barstool over behind you. You grabbed his wrist as you slipped out of his hold, bringing his hand to the middle of his back. 
“What do ya say now, you piece of shit,” you laughed in his ear. 
Faster than you expected, he ripped his wrist from your hands, and turned to face you. You heard a loud pop, then the feeling of pain registered on your face. The fucker had just backhanded you infront of the entire Garrison. You gave a small chuckle, which spiraled into a full out laugh, leaving the man utterly confused. You turned your eyes up towards him, feigning doe eyes at the man, before you placed both hands on his shoulders. You moved in closer to his body, and before he could realize, you hooked your right leg behind his knee, and shoved his shoulders as hard as you could manage and still stay upright. 
The large man tumbled to the ground, hitting his head on your now discarded barstool. While you had the chance, you snatched the knife from his hands and knelt down on top of his large body. You pressed the edge of his blade against his own neck, feeling a sense of pride swell through you. You had just taken down this very large, muscular man in front of an entire pub. But before you could get any witty remarks out to your fallen opponent, you heard one thing. 
“Y/N, what have you done?” 
Fuck. Tommy had found you, and no less, found you on top of man, with a knife against his throat, in his brothers pub. 
“Y/N, get off of him. Now.” Tommy spoke, his voice sounding closer now. You turned your head to look at him, finally taking your eyes off of the assailant for just a moment. 
Tommy was standing right behind you, with a look similar to what you could assume the wrath of God would look like. He stood poised, with his hands behind his back, peaky hat on top of his head, hiding his eyes. You turned back to look at the fallen man underneath you, seeing his own look of fear on his face. Then you noticed drops of blood splatting onto the man's face. He wasn’t bleeding, you hadn’t cut him, this much you knew. You tossed the knife to the side, far enough away where neither of you could reach it, and felt for your own face. A warm spot of blood came back on your hand; He had cut the corner of your eye open when he backhanded you. You felt angry at first, then ashamed. This man had cut you, and you kept fighting him like a crazed person. Hot tears bubbled at the corners of your eyes, before you climbed off of the man. 
Tommy grabbed you, helping you to stand on your feet. You were still trying to hold back the tears in your eyes while he gently held your chin, looking over your wound. 
“Love, go to the office. Wait for me, I’ll be there soon.” He spoke, softly. 
You mustered a nod, and scuffled your way to the back office, to wait for him. 
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yuri-is-online · 9 months
Note
Hi!
I saw the 300 followers event, and I'd like to request prompt 9 with Leona, Ace, and Jamil
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9. Jealousy pt. 2- someone from a rival school asks for your number
Hi hi! Thank you for your request, I hope you like this friend.
notes: they/them pronouns used for Yuu, Check out the rest of the event requests on my masterlist here.
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Leona
"Overconfidence is a slow and insidious killer." Leona has heard you say that more than once, always in a tone that suggests you are mimicking something or someone; from your world he assumes. Not that he really minds, it's a nice quote. Snappy. And the first time he heard you say it you had been critiquing Azul, not him. Not him, even though it could easily apply.
That's why it is thundering in his skull right now, needling at that knot in his forehead that refuses to leave, twitching in his snarl as he watches some RSA brat wind his way around your shoulders.
Slow.
"I've got to say," purrs the stranger, lightly resting a hand on your shoulder as you consider what power you need to invoke to get him gone "I was surprised to find someone so nice attending NRC." You can't really think of a good reply, the awkward laughter that stutters out of you doesn't seem to count.
Insidious.
"It would be a real shame to let such a chance encounter go unsavored." He could have chosen a less suggestive tone of voice, or maybe it's just Leona's previous comments about how you should try to avoid "getting eaten" that are working double time on your nerves. "Perhaps you could give me your-"
Killer.
"Oi." Leona's voice rumbles, you swear there was an actual roar before he spoke. The RSA student certainly jumps back from you like there was. "You are making them uncomfortable." The student apologizes, to you or Leona you have no idea, as Leona settles a comforting hand onto your shoulder.
"Thank you, sorry for-"
"Don't." Leona is surprisingly calm. "'s my job to scare off bottom feeders like that anyway."
Well now. That is news to you.
Ace
There is something of a disadvantage in always being around the person you like when you aren't quite sure how much it is you like them just yet. The full realization tends to come at an inconvenient time, making ordinary situations into ones of great annoyance. For example, a casual walk through Craneport where you run into some kid from RSA who is also casually enjoying his day of with a friend.
"Cute, right?" A great big dog is happily panting as you scratch her ears, a smile just as shiny as her owners beaming up at you.
"Super cute!" You resist the urge to kiss her all over her massively cute face while Ace tries to fight off an existential crisis. That is a dog, he is feeling jealousy over a dog. What's going to make him insecure next, a tooth brush?
"Her name's Ginger." The stranger says with clear pride. "She really likes you, I'm almost sad to see you go."
"Only almost?" You laugh and give a final head pat to the very good girl while Ace swallows. Anger, jealousy, general annoyance at your obliviousness? Who knows.
"Could I get your number then?" Asks the stranger. "I'm sure she'd love to get to know you."
"I'm sure she would!" Ace's heart skinks, hand going behind his head to awkwardly soothe his wounded heart. "But I think I'll have to pass." You don't give a reason and the stranger doesn't ask, just takes his loss on the chin as you begin to walk again.
"So why'd you say no?" His voice is surprisingly even even if the question feels like it stumbles out of him.
"Oh well you know..." You shuffle along, as eager to let the topic die as he is to press it. "I've already got a favorite ginger." He snorts, threatening to break into a full blown laugh. "I do!" You protest, oddly serious and extremely embarrassed. "And he's enough of a handful already."
"I'm sure Cay-kun will be happy to hear it." Ace laughs, winking back at you as he prepares to run back towards the bus, shouts of protest somehow falling on deaf ears and stroking his ego.
Jamil
Sometimes Jamil is envious of Floyd. His reputation wouldn't take a dive if someone from the other team accidentally ran into a missed shot fifteen times. Nobody would even blink. But if the ball came from his hands... well then people would start asking questions.
"Are you jealous?"
No. A lie. Jamil is jealous of the air you breathe for its closeness to your lips, and this sniveling Nobel Bell brat can actually speak. Not that he knows exactly what he is asking for, but Jamil has an active imagination. And feet, he somehow seems to be stalking his way towards you even though none of what is happening is any of his business.
"Are you dating?"
Why would I want that? I've already got enough on my plate as is, I don't need a partner. Only true on the surface. Jamil has no idea why he wants you (Kalim assures him he doesn't need a reason but why would he want to listen to that advice) he just does. You make him feel a bunch of inconvenient and ridiculous things, he does not need a partner but he does want one.
"Um... I was wondering..." Seven the kid was pathetic from across the court but now that he was actually here he is even worse. Jamil is surprised he hasn't fainted yet. "I was wondering... um if you wouldn't mind could I get your number?" He seems genuinely hopeful and Jamil has got to look just as genuinely disgusted with how far back the kid jumps.
"I'm sorry..." you turn him down so gently it hurts (for Jamil, not the kid, he wants to see the little bitch run away crying) "You've been very nice I'm just not interested right now." You let out a relived sigh as the kid walks away normally as Jamil considers talking to and is not given a chance to think better of it before you turn around. "Oh hey Jamil." Why do you have to look so happy to see him? It hurts. "Sorry you had to see that, I was just trying to turn in the team registratio-"
"Do you find that attractive?" You both look shocked Jamil even asked that, but now that he has, he finds that he is too stubborn to back down.
"No?" And then with a bit more certainty you add. "No. No I think I would like someone with a bit more... mindful" You say with an admiral degree of confidence for someone who is no longer looking him in the eyes.
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turbulentscrawl · 5 months
Note
Sfw/ nsfw para norton por favor!!! 👁👄👁
I'll take any excuse to write for my favorite man ;)
These are relationship-focused. Spicy stuff under the cut. Enjoy <3
Norton Campbell
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SFW
-Norton didn’t start to bulk up until he came to the manor. That is, he’s always been tall, and working the mines made him strong, but at home he never got the nutrition he needed to actually pack on muscle. The manor provides food constantly, so his body has been playing catchup and he’s had to let out his clothes a few times. (Strong man give good hug, make feel safe.)
-Norton has minimal experience with romance or anything related to it. He’s had interest in people a few times over the years, but his long work hours, financial situation, and trust issues weren’t really conducive to serious relationships.
-That said, I think after he decides that no one is ever escaping the manor, he’d be pretty open to starting a relationship if someone genuinely caught his eye. In some ways, it’s not the worst situation to be in. He’s in good health (aside from the ever-looming threat of gruesome not-death in the games), has stability, food, shelter….why not also let himself have love if it feels right?
-He’s a bit awkward with romance at the start. The other men at the mines set poor examples for how to love and appreciate a partner. Of course, Norton hated most of them and wouldn’t trust their advice if his life depended on it anyway…but he doesn’t have much else to go on.
-He does, however, strongly prefer to show love through Acts of Service. He’s a provider at heart. He also gives Quality Time in the sense that he spends his spare time as your shadow. He expects to sit next to you at meals, stand near you during meetings, guard you during matches. He’s not huge on PDA in most circumstances, but he likes to be within arm’s reach. (It’s also close enough to hear any snarky comments he mutters under his breath, and he enjoys hearing you giggle over them.)
-He has a possessive streak. It typically shows itself during his personality flips, which he tries to stay away from you during, but he will have slipups that are usually just him pulling you away from someone standing too close or throwing another person’s hand off you. He feels rotten after the fact if he does anything more drastic.
NS/FW
-Norton has as little bedroom experience as romantic…but he is both very familiar with his own body and pragmatic enough to not be too awkward in the learning phase. Having been a laborer most of his life, he takes instruction and critique well.
-His endurance is not amazing in the beginning. He’s fit enough that it will improve quickly (and he can go several rounds if you give him a short break), but in the meantime he’s also pretty good with his hands. He’s got thick, calloused fingers and a firm grip
-Norton strongly prefers to top. He could be convinced to change it up once in a blue moon, but being submissive just doesn’t feel right for him. He’s been an underdog for too much of his life; he wants to have the power.
-He’s a considerate top and isn’t cheeky enough to try pushing any boundaries. …but please let him be a little rough. He wants to manhandle you.
-He’s on the quiet side during sex. If someone is gonna get loud, he wants it to be you. The noise he makes is generally limited to soft grunts and heavy breathing, but he’ll also growl as a special treat if you tease him just right. Run your nails against his scalp. Run your nails against his scalp.
-His avoidance of PDA extends to sexy times. Norton would not agree to being intimate somewhere you’re likely to be caught, and he won’t make a move on you when other people are around. I do think he might pick up a very subtle way to tell you that he’s hoping for some hanky panky later (something like winking at you. he is NOT a winker otherwise), but don’t expect him to say something suggestive or dirty when other people can hear it.
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nataliesfirefly · 12 days
Text
chapter 1 - new year, same rivalry
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a/n: hello! i’m back finally! super excited for this series, it’s definitely going to be more wholesome than my other one, and more of a slow burn! my plan is to have ten chapters, but that could change later on.. anyways enjoy and please tell me what you think! if you would like to be put on the series taglist, let me know! ♥️
chapter warnings: slight language
wc: 3.8k
series masterlist
“Welcome, year twelves. It’s lovely to see you all today, I recognize some familiar faces. My name is Mrs. Chasteen, I’ll be your teacher for English studies this year.” You set your bag down and take a seat, glancing up at the woman speaking. She’s very elegant, with her grey hair pulled into a strict bun and sophisticated tiny rectangle glasses resting on the bridge of her nose. You smooth out your black pleated skirt before crossing your legs.
“As I’m sure you all know, this year is very important. You should be considering which universities you wish to apply to, how you would like to further your education…” Your attention is side tracked when a tall figure hurries into the room, his dark eyes scanning for an open seat. You swear your heart drops to your stomach. Farleigh.
His eyes eventually fall onto you after spotting the empty seat next to you. He reluctantly walks over and sits down next to you with a big sigh, like he’s just put off by your existence. At least the feeling’s mutual.
“Your grades need to be in top shape this year, as they will determine your chances of getting into university. This year is arguably the most important for grades,” Mrs. Chasteen explains, pacing around slowly. You shift uncomfortably, scooting away from Farleigh. It’s like he’s trying to take up space on purpose as he splays his books and papers across the table. You shoot him an ungrateful look which he ignores.
“Now, enough about all that. I’m going to introduce the book that we will be studying closely this term.” You perk up at her words as she goes to her desk, picking a book up off the surface.
“This book is found on many, many reading lists for universities, namely Oxford.” You raise an eyebrow and sit up at the mention of your dream school. “A classic from the Victiorian era: Wuthering Heights by Emily Brontë.” She holds up the book briefly and you let out a relieved sigh. “One of my personal favorites,” She adds quietly, setting the book back down.
Farleigh nudges you with his shoulder and you have to stop yourself from physically recoiling. “Would’ve thought you’d already read this by now,” He mutters with a slight smirk on his face, showing his teeth like a fox. Suddenly, a question enters your mind and now you have to ask, though you might come off as insecure. “Have you?” You whisper back, eyebrows furrowed. He shakes his head. “No.”
Okay, good. That would have been bad if he had already read it. It’s always nice at the start of the year. You’re both even, and no one’s ahead of each other in anything. Yet.
“We’ll be discussing and taking assessments over the chapters, so be certain to keep up with your reading. For your final project before winter break once we finish the book, you will be writing an essay based off of it and a prompt that I will give you. I will also be pairing you up with someone to collaboratively write said paper with.” Your eyes widen at this. A group project? Well, not a group. A duo. Nevertheless, it’s weird for two people to write an essay together. You’ve never heard of it.
“You need to learn how to critique each other and work together. It’s an important skill for uni.” Mrs. Chasteen seems to notice everyone’s looks of confusion. “Hmm,” Farleigh hums. You glance over to him shortly before observing the other students in your class. You recognize a lot of them. Just accquaintances, not friends.
“Anywho. Please come and grab a copy, then sign the sheet so I know you received one.” You quickly stand up and head over to her desk. You want to make a good first impression. But Farleigh and his stupid long legs make it there before you do, charming Mrs. Chasteen with a bright smile.
“Hello. I’m Farleigh. I’m absolutely thrilled to be taking your class,” He holds out his hand, speaking with his velvety voice while your teacher shakes his hand with a curt nod. “You’re quite tall,” She remarks with an impressed expression. You roll your eyes. Why does everyone feel the need to comment on his height? Does it make him better than everyone else? It’s just one more thing that makes Farleigh stand out more than you, and you hate that. You miss what he responds with due to your bitter thoughts.
“Please, take a book.” She steps back and gives him more space. He reaches down and takes a copy off of her desk, signing the paper shortly after with his free hand, writing in flawless cursive. You’re envious of how smoothly and quickly he can connect the letters. It looks like something out of a scroll from the eighteenth century.
“Oh, wonderful cursive,” Mrs. Chasteen clasps her hands together in approval and Farleigh just glances at you with a shit-eating grin before walking off and back to your shared table.
“Hi there,” You put on your best I’m very high achieving and hard working smile and mimic Farleigh’s actions, holding out your hand as you introduce yourself. She smiles back warmly while shaking your hand. “What a beautiful name. I’ve heard many great things about you from your previous teachers.” She almost lowers her voice. You feel your face heat up and you try not to show your pride.
“Oh, well then, I hope I live up to your expectations, miss.” You say with a beaming smile. She chuckles and hands you a book. “I’m certain you will,” She replies as you sign your name on the sheet of paper in slightly sloppier cursive, looking worse underneath Farleigh’s perfect signature.
You walk back to your spot with a spring in your step, holding your head high. Hearing just those few words from your new teacher’s mouth made your day. That’s how badly you crave academic validation. Or just… validation in general.
“You hear that?” You ask, returning his grin from earlier. “Hear what?” He asks, raising an eyebrow and turning to you with a confused expression. “Nevermind.” You don’t know why you thought he would’ve heard your conversation from all the way over here. “Mmm,” He hums in response, and there’s some attitude in his tone. You debate whether you should come up with a snarky question to ask him, but you decide against it.
Once all the books are handed out, Mrs. Chasteen walks up to the whiteboard and uncaps a marker. “So, can anyone tell me something interesting about Emily Brontë?” She asks.
Both of your hands shoot up at the same time. You mentally curse at Farleigh and shoot him an annoyed side glance. He returns the favor. Mrs. Chasteen notices this and raises her eyebrows. “Eager to answer, are we?” She chuckles and then looks around. “Anyone else?”
You glance around the room. No one else is raising their hands, they’re all just looking expectantly at you and Farleigh. You look back to your teacher with wide eyes, willing her to pick you.
“Alright then..” Mrs. Chasteen clears her throat. Her eyes land on you. She’s going to pick you. Yes. Now you can prove your intelligence and superiority to the rest of the class, and to Farleigh.
“Farleigh.” Your hand drops back down to your side in defeat and he turns to look at you. He just winks. He winks. The annoying fuck, you could probably strangle him right now-
“Well, Emily wasn’t the only poet and writer in her family. Her sister, Charlotte, wrote Jane Eyre, which was hugely successful. But Wuthering Heights was critiqued for being too clumsy or, rather, not well structured.” He explains, sounding like a fucking Britannica article. It was the exact thing you were going to say, and it pisses you off. You rest your elbows against the desk and put your chin in your hands, sighing dejectedly.
Mrs. Chasteen nods and writes this on the board, summing up the information into bullet points. “Correct. Very good.” She caps the marker again and turns back to the class. You raise your hand quickly, and she calls your name.
“I think Farleigh’s forgetting to mention Anne Brontë. She was probably the least popular out of the three sisters, but her works are seriously underrated. Her last novel, The Tenant of Wildfell Hall, was one of the first feminist novels. She paved the way for other female authors and gave women a voice.” You explain, and Mrs. Chasteen looks surprised at your level of knowledge. You can feel Farleigh’s bristling energy next to you. You smile contentedly, watching as your teacher writes what you said about Anne off to the side.
“And have you read this book?” Farleigh suddenly asks. You turn to face him, unafraid of his challenging. “No, I have not. But I did a project over the Brontë sisters last year, and my research went quite in depth.” You explain, and he does one of those Olympic winning eyerolls. “Having extra information like that comes in handy, you know,” You grin as his eyebrows furrow, glaring sharply at you. “It’s not like it matters. We’re not even talking about Anne. She asked about Emily.” It seems like you two have forgotten completely about the rest of the students in the room, the teacher, and everything else in the world as you begin to argue. It just comes naturally.
“If I’m not mistaken, you mentioned Charlotte. She asked about Emily,” You mock him. He opens his mouth to say something back, then closes it and looks down.
“Alright.. anywho, now we’re going to read a short introduction to the book to give you all an idea of what you’re getting into.” Mrs. Chasteen explains, giving you and Farleigh a stern look.
Throughout the rest of the class, you and Farleigh remain silent and refuse to speak to each other, though you were instructed to discuss with the person next to you. You look out the stained glass window, watching the raindrops patter onto the cobblestone, the puddles illuminated by the golden light shining from the lanterns, the chatter around you drowned out by your own thoughts about the rest of today.
Your overthinking is interrupted by your teacher’s voice.
“Okay everyone, that’s it for today. I will see you all tomorrow. Could you two stay for a moment, please?” She turns to you and Farleigh as you’re gathering your things, gesturing for you two to come up to her desk. You both glance at each other before nodding and heading over after you’ve swung your bag over your shoulder.
“So… you two seem very.. competitive. You’re both very intelligent, make no mistake.” You wonder where she’s going with this. “Which makes me curious– May I ask which universities you two intend on applying to?”
“Oxford.” You both say at the same time, after which you immediately turn to each other with wide eyes. What? No. It can’t be. You’re seriously fucked if he applies to Oxford. They rarely ever take two people from the same school.
“You’re applying to Oxford?!” You both ask, once again, at the same time. He looks almost personally offended by you, with his upper lip pulled up and his eyebrows knitted together in a familiar scowl.
“Oh- Haha, well. What a coincidence,” Mrs. Chasteen chuckles nervously, glancing back and forth. “I went to Oxford. It was quite lovely there, and the professors–”
“No, you can’t. I’m applying to Oxford.” You point at yourself, and he scoffs. “Who says I can’t?” Farleigh asks, his voice dripping with sass. “Me.” You reply. He rolls his eyes and facepalms with exasperation.
“Well, the chances of you both getting in aren’t… impossible. If they see two exceptionally good students who are at the top of their class, they won’t mind if you’re from the same school. They only see the talent,” She goes on to explain, trying to stop an argument from breaking out again.
“Logically, they would pick the top student, though. Not students,” You emphasize the s at the end of students. Mrs. Chasteen continues. “You never know. And backup universities are a great option, if–”
“I appreciate the suggestion, but I’ll only be applying to Oxford. It’s Oxford or nothing,” You reply, your voice full of determination. “Me too. Oxford’s been my dream uni since I moved here from the states,” Farleigh adds. You turn to glare at him and he glares right back.
“Well then. That’s fine, just please try not to take up any more class time with your bickering.” She raises her eyebrows at you two. You nod. “Yes, miss.”
“And who knows,” She says, pushing her glasses back up to the bridge of her nose, “You two might work better together. Two smart brains are better than one,” You shudder at the word together. You and Farleigh working together? Absolutely not.
“Think about it.” She points a finger and you reluctantly nod, just to give her some temporary satisfaction. “You’re excused,” She dips her head and you hear Farleigh let out a little sigh of relief. “Thank you, miss. Have a good day,” He nods shortly to her before turning on his heel and heading for the door. You follow suit.
Shit. You forgot about the rain. Before English class, you had made it inside before the downpour had really started. Now the raindrops covered every inch of the ground. You have to cross the courtyard to get to your next class, which is in the west wing of the school. You awkwardly stand in the arched corridor, listening to the rain, slightly shivering as you try to make a decision. The weather is always bipolar in London. It’s September, and the other day it was sweltering. Now it’s freezing and rainy.
Farleigh turns around and raises an eyebrow at your hesitation. “What are you doing?” He asks. You glance down. He’s holding a black umbrella. How is he always prepared for everything?
“Well I don’t have an… umbrella,” You mumble, gesturing to the one in his hand. “Am I supposed to care?” He replies. Of course. Why did you think he would care?
“You asked me what I was doing,” You throw your hands up. “I was answering your question!” You exclaim angrily. He rolls his eyes. “What’s your next class?” He asks hesitantly.
You pull out the small yet important paper from your pocket with your classes on it, looking down and squinting. “Biology,” You reply, looking up and watching all the other students bustling around, chatting excitedly or holding umbrellas over their head as they walk through the courtyard. You look back to Farleigh, who seems to be thinking something over in his head.
“Alright, c’mon.” He nods to you, walking out into the open area, holding up the umbrella. You step forward without questioning it, just thankful for the rare act of kindness. “I’m headed to the west wing anyway,” He says as you walk side by side, as if he has to make it clear that this is not him being generous to you. It’s simply convenient.
You wish you didn’t have to stay so close to him, but if you want to be covered fully from the rain, you sort of have to get closer to him, your head brushing against his shoulder due to your almost embarrassing height difference and your feet almost tripping over his. You both remain silent, with only the sound of the rain pelting against the umbrella to keep you company.
You eventually reach the west corridor, and he’s quickly stepping away from you and wrapping up the umbrella. You begin walking to go find your class, before you hear his voice call after you.
“No ‘thank you’ or anything?” He asks. You turn around and groan internally. “...Thank you.” You respond, very reluctantly and quietly. “You’re welcome,” He smiles sarcastically and you roll your eyes before turning back around, quickening your pace to make it to your class on time.
A week later, your first calculus assessment of the year is already upon you. It doesn’t help that you share that class, of all classes, with Farleigh. Math has always been your most difficult subject. You’ve never been quick to understand it, it never comes naturally for you. But if you put in the time and work, you can make it seem like it’s effortless.
Apparently for Farleigh, it is effortless. He makes it clear that he never studies for tests or quizzes. While it infuriates you, you also find it hard to believe. How can he ace everything when he claims he doesn’t even try?
You sit down at your desk, fishing your pencil and calculator out from your bag. You nervously chew on the eraser, waiting for the papers to be passed out.
“First assessment of the year, good luck everyone. If you fail, there will be no corrections, so hopefully that makes you feel better,” Mr. Bailey says as he passes out the tests. His sarcasm somehow only makes the situation worse. You spent hours studying for this last evening, although he claimed this was all ‘mostly a review’ from your precalculus class last year. Right. Review. You should know this stuff by now.
As soon as the paper is on your desk, you begin working, starting with the problems you know how to solve. You get in that zone, completely unbothered by your surroundings or any distractions, just working, switching between writing down numbers and formulas to typing into the calculator.
You get stumped on a question and glance up to check the time. Your eyes wander from the clock over to Farleigh, who seems completely relaxed, one hand running through his hair and fiddling with his dark curls and the other working a problem out.
“Eyes on your own tests, please,” Mr. Bailey sternly calls out. Your eyes dart over to him, where he sits behind his desk, his gaze directly upon you. Fuck. Now he’s going to think you were cheating. But what were you actually doing? Staring at Farleigh? No. You were just… observing. You go back to your test, flipping the paper over to start the graphing section.
“That’s time. Pencils down, I’ll come by to pick up your papers.” Mr. Bailey announces, standing up and starting down the rows of desks and picking up everyone’s tests. He says something to Farleigh but you can’t make it out, but you see Farleigh grin. It seems that Mr. Bailey has already chosen his favorite student. You never even stood a chance.
Once he makes it to your row and picks up your test, you begin to pack up your things. “I’ll have these graded by tomorrow. Please don’t complain to me if you fail. That’s on you.” You scoff quietly at your teacher’s harsh remarks as you make your way to the door. Thank God that was your last class of the day. Now you can head back to your dorm.
Farleigh falls into step next to you. “So, how’d that go for you?” You stare straight ahead, focusing on the path ahead of you. “Good. Honestly, it was easier than I expected.” You reply. It’s half truth. It was slightly easier than you were preparing yourself for, but you usually prepare yourself for the worst. But you can’t let him know that you still struggled.
“Really. Hmm,” He hums, and you glare up at him. “What?” You study his expression. He must think you’re lying, based on his little smirk and raised eyebrows. “Nothing. It’s just… we both know math is not your strong suit,” He pauses and you stop next to him. “Okay, but that doesn’t mean I can’t be good at it.” You scowl up at him and he just grins.
“Unlike you, I actually study.” You continue walking, hoping he’ll leave you alone, but he follows you. “Aw, you actually need to study? Sad.” He pouts and you actually feel the urge to strangle him.
You turn around abruptly and he stops in his tracks. “Alright. Lovely talking with you. Bye!” You wave with a fake smile. Farleigh looks a bit surprised by your reaction. There’s only so much of his insults you can take.
“Bye,” He quietly mutters as you turn back around, walking quicker and more determined, putting some confidence into your step.
You groan and flop onto your bed once you enter your dorm. Suddenly, you realize how sleepy you are as your eyelids feel heavy You cover your face with a pillow and sigh, wishing you could rest. It sounds wonderful. But you have work to do. Reading, studying, the list goes on.
You chose this boarding school because you heard it was most similar to the Oxford experience, campus wise. It was also named the most prestigious secondary school in London. You often become very homesick, though, and you long for the comfort of your parents and your real home. At least it’s preparing you for university.
You groan once again into the pillow before sitting up and pushing the idea of sleep away. It’s time to get to work.
The next day, you wait to get your calculus test back. Mr. Bailey is handing them out while you overthink and prepare yourself for a failing grade. What would you do if you actually failed? You think you would rather be pushed off of a tall building than receive an F on a test.
Suddenly, a paper lands on your desk. You quickly glance down and see ‘97.5’ written in red ink at the top of the paper. Your eyes widen and you feel relief wash over you. Thank the Lord. You grin and pick up your test, inspecting it closer and going over your errors.
You hear someone coming up behind you. You quickly flip your paper over, hiding the grade from whoever is lurking over your shoulder. But it’s too late.
“Not bad…” A deep, American voice chuckles quietly. You turn around in your chair, and to no surprise, Farleigh is standing there with his arms crossed. He’s already seen your grade.
“Stop looking at my grades,” You hiss. “Relax, I was just curious.” He smirks at your frustration and holds up his own test. You see a ‘98’ scrawled up at the top along with a ‘good job’ next to it. You huff in response, turning back around.
“That’s not even much better than mine,” You mutter. “What’s that?” He asks, leaning over your shoulder, his breath ghosting over your neck. You shiver and remain silent, unable to repeat yourself for some reason.
“Sorry, who got the better grade?” Farleigh questions, his voice lowered. You let out a small sigh, ready to admit your defeat. “You.” You reply quietly.
“Right.” And then he’s gone, probably heading back to his own desk. What a bitch. You roll your eyes and pinch the space between your eyes, shaking your head. Yeah, he got .5 more points than you, and it doesn’t seem like much. But for Farleigh, it’s a huge win. But you’ll get him back. You always do. And you’re going to be the one who makes it into Oxford, you are sure of it.
84 notes · View notes
sunkissedchld · 6 months
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𝐏𝐈𝐂𝐊 𝐀 𝐂𝐀𝐑𝐃
𝒎𝒆𝒔𝒔𝒂𝒈𝒆𝒔 𝒐𝒇 𝒔𝒆𝒍𝒇-𝒍𝒐𝒗𝒆
dedicated to @nashikahan for suggesting the idea ❤️
relationships are important of course, no matter if it's a friendship or romantic or work-related or otherwise, but one of the greatest and most important types of love is the love we receive from ourselves.
i've said this before (a very long time ago), but in general, when most people are interested in tarot, they tend to ask about and lean towards content that speaks about the future (ex. future spouse, next 5 years, next career endeavor, etc), but i’ve realized that falling into that trap of future readings can be harmful if it’s all one ever thinks about.
thinking about the future is great of course, and it’s fun and sometimes comforting to think about the future and what successes and highs one might claim, but too much focus on the future makes it hard for one to focus on the present.
you can’t ever reach that future if you’re so wrapped in the fantasy of it that you forget to bring yourself to the present and work on whatever is needed in order to get there.
therefore, this PAC is not about the future. it's about the now. it's about what you need to hear right now in order to find comfort and love for yourself the way you need it.
the piles go from top left to right. so, "you are exactly where you are meant to be" is pile i, "be kind to your mind" is pile ii, and so on and so forth.
take the time to close your eyes, breathe, and meditate on the PAC prompt, then open your eyes and let your guides lead you to the pile for you.
i hope you enjoy and learn to love yourself the way you deserve to be loved 💖
(TW: slight s*icidal mention in pile vi)
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𝐏𝐈𝐋𝐄 𝐈
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Shufflemancy:
"Rover and Benz" by Aint Afraid
"Blazed" by Ariana Grande
"Lose" by Wonho
Reading:
i think this is my creative pile :)
life is always moving and as hard as it is for you to be okay with it you always find a way to get on the right footing despite there seemingly not being a reason to.
are you a dancer? or at least, do you wanna be? if so, don't deny yourself that art form. i can tell you pour your heart and soul into it. i think it's where you tell the story of your pain. please, continue to use it to continue to be the strong person you are.
you're a fighter and a creative. i don't know a better combo than that to be honest. i don't think you hear this often enough, or you doubt people when you do hear it -- your art form is enough. as a matter of fact, it's more than enough. it's exactly what's needed for the Earth right now and for years to come.
the card i pulled literally says, "SHARE YOUR VOICE" in all caps like that and everything. your mind, your voice, your creativity, your dance, your art is valid. even if self-critique is necessary, also remember that you've come a long way from your very first piece to right now.
the other card i pulled says, "YOUR LIFE IS A CANVAS". continue to use it as such. continue to foster your art. it's beautiful. every ounce of love you put into it can be seen. it's so obvious that art (in whatever form) is of and in you.
love it.
especially your own.
love your own work.
(i promise that it's good enough).
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𝐏𝐈𝐋𝐄 𝐈𝐈
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Shufflemancy:
"Donald Trump" by Mac Miller
"Run The World (Girls)" by Beyonce
"The Vapors" by Jhene Aiko
Reading:
know that you have a reason to be cocky!
i can tell that you're a hard-worker. every action you take is calculated and in an effort to reach the "promised land" of what you want. what you've always dreamed of. although recently (and maybe just in general) you may feel as if this uphill climb feels harder than ever.
the card i pulled says, "it's happening for you. not to you". i think those words may be of help to you right now. sometimes you may feel like God has put you up against these seemingly unwinable battles, but they are winnable. you're the one that can win them.
although you put in the work and action behind all of your wants, i think you mainly need to hear that you're not alone. you are being supported.
more than anything, i think you need to focus on healing yourself before going any further. specifically, go outside. breathe in the cold air and let it hurt your lungs. let the humidity frizz out your hair. listen to the waves as the crash violently or splash little by little.
i think you already know that you're strong, but also know that it's okay to rest.
it's necessary to rest.
please, allow yourself to do so.
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𝐏𝐈𝐋𝐄 𝐈𝐈𝐈
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Shufflemancy:
"Songs About You" by Chika
"Fool For You" by CeeLo Green
"Silent Cry" by Stray Kids
Reading:
there's a calling for you to do something, and you're avoiding it.
now babe.. you know better than to do that!
you feel like logic isn't aligning for you to be able to do it, or you doubt your own abilities, don't you? yeah.. you gotta stop doing that like immediately.
that dream or urge you have that feels so integral to your person and so primal to you in terms of needs is something you can totally achieve, but you have to believe in yourself. pay homage to yourself.
you are unique and honestly, your alignment is not of this world. that's why it feels as if the logic is off because they logic you've been conditioned to follow is not the one you should be following.
listen to yourself. listen to your body. trust that you will end up at the right ending because you're the one who knows how to best lead yourself. the cards i pulled say, "trust where you're led" and "surrender to the alchemy of life". i think that's important for you.
the most important thing i can say is that you control your destiny, and know that there's a path for you that so beautifully laid out, and you naturally lead yourself there.
you are worthy of your own trust.
you know exactly what you're doing -- even if it doesn't feel like it.
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𝐏𝐈𝐋𝐄 𝐈𝐕
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Shufflemancy:
"Sorry Not Sorry" by Bryson Tiller
"in my head" by Ariana Grande
"I'm The One" by Ateez
Reading:
you allow people to walk over you too much :(
is it because you don't think you're good enough? do you think you're not worthy of respect? YOU ARE!
maybe you don't fit society's standard of things. education, beauty, intelligence, material posessions? to be honest, it doesn't matter because you are so much more than that. who you are inside and who you try to be is so much more valuable than any of society's standards.
you don't have to take on everyone's burdens in order to be of use. you don't have to break your own boundaries and beat yourself down in order to receive basic respect.
your unique knowledge -- your unconventional knowledge- is so special to you! it's such a unique trait that gives you a different way of thinking and experiencing than others. use these differences to uplift yourself!
so what you're different? so what you don't blend in with everyone else? THAT'S THE ENTIRE POINT OF BEING UNIQUE AND BEING DIFFERENT!
fitting society's standards isn't helpful to yourself or the collective.
embrace your differences. they are valuable.
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𝐏𝐈𝐋𝐄 𝐕
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Shufflemancy:
"Alone" by Ayanna
"Motivation" by Normani
"Do It Like A Dude" by Jessie J
Reading:
the people who chose this pile are changing! transtitions and transformations are in progress or on the way, and you feel unprepared for them. that's okay!
you keep holding on to old habits and old ways of thinking, but you need to trust yourself and the universe. the card i pulled literally says, "YES. just say yes". the other one says, "you go first. the universe will catch you".
your old ways of thinking and being don't work anymore because they're too mundane. your ability and your intrinsic nature is so much broader! so much bigger!
your personality and energy is so intoxicating to others. i wish you could see yourself through outsiders eyes. if you felt drawn to pile ii, then go ahead and read it. i think the message there also applies to you.
know that you are so much bigger than the little problems and intrusive thoughts that hold you back. for every pessimistic thought that goes through, write down a positive one.
also, learn to praise yourself. you deserve praise.
you are doing well.
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𝐏𝐈𝐋𝐄 𝐕𝐈
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Shufflemancy:
"Cuz I Love You" by Lizzo
"Without You" by Ledsi
"Practice" by Drake
"breathin" by Ariana Grande
Reading:
i think you're tired, just like the photo says.
you may feel like you don't wanna be here anymore. not even in a s*icidal way, but more so in a wanting to be away from your environment -- from Earth -- just for a little bit if it were possible.
the people who chose this pile a very likely starseeds. you miss home. you miss being around likeminded people, and more than anything you miss feeling as if you belonged.
you have so much love you want to give to others, but it's like people don't want it. like they follow the saying of "you can lead a horse to water, but you can't make them drink it".
i think you may be tired of hearing this, but you are here for a reason. more than anything you just want the backpack of rocks that lies on your shoulder to be lightened -- even if just by one stone. you're tired of hearing that you're strong and that you can handle it because if you feel that backpack get loaded with one more stone, then you;ll explode.
you don't have to be strong all the time.
it's okay to cry.
please cry.
you are human too.
you have emotions too.
it's valid and okay to feel them.
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210 notes · View notes
cool-fancier · 7 months
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Unnie's Guiding Light
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Synopsis: You don't have a formal leadership position as a member of BEBE on "Street Woman Fighter," but your relationship with Bada makes you a vital source of encouragement for the group. Your emotional support and nurturing demeanour support Bada's style of leadership, encouraging BEBE's unity in order to face the obstacles of the competition.
On "Street Woman Fighter," the pressure grows as you and Bada go further. Considering of the serious rivalry, every little thing counts. As part of BEBE, you're known as the eldest by just a year, but the weight of that age difference sometimes feels much greater.
As you are all together with the rest of the crew watching video of your groups' performances and the other groups critiques, you overhear some comments that strike a chord.
From LADYBOUNCE, Nob said: "If she's the oldest, why isn't she the leader? It doesn't make sense."
Lia Kim from 1 MILLION: "Leadership should come with experience and maturity, and she's older. It's confusing."
You can feel your crewmates' attention focused on you as a result of these comments hanging in the air. Bada gives you a knowing glance as she softly offers her support.
The truth is, you've always felt a bit hesitant about taking on the role of leader. Not because you doubt your skills, but because you've seen how Bada manages the responsibilities.  She is cautious, diligent, and utterly devoted. She frequently prioritises the needs of the group over her own, working to make BEBE better with each practise.
You, on the other hand, are more nurturing and empathic, providing emotional support when required. You've always admired Bada's dedication to her skill and her determination to lead, but you've also recognized the unique strengths you bring to the group.
You find yourself taking on the role of BEBE's emotional anchor as the competition heats up. As the group's leader, Bada frequently carries the burden of their expectations, and you are there to provide her support and assurance when she begins to have second thoughts.
After a particularly rigorous practise for the mega crew mission one day, Bada begins to cry. She senses the pressure building and starts to doubt her leadership skills. You had to sit on the side as cameras were recording and you didn't want to be seen in it,when they were done you rushed and wrapped your arms around her and hold her close, offering words of encouragement.
You whisper, "You're doing a wonderful job, Bada. "You've guided us so far, and your commitment is obvious. We all believe in you, and we're here to support you every step of the way."
Bada wipes her tears away and smiles in appreciation. "Thank you, unnie. Without you, I don't know what I would do."
After a few days, Bada and you sat in the practise room together as the other BEBE members went to work on their individual part of the choreography for the forthcoming performance. In the midst of the routine chaos, there came a quiet moment.
Bada turned to face you, her eyes glowing with affection. "You know, Y/n, I appreciate everything you do for the girls. You're like their guardian angel."
You gently laughed. "Well, I can't help it. They're like my little sisters. Besides, it's the least I can do to support you as the leader."
Your fingers and Bada's hand gradually entwined as she made her way to yours. "You're amazing, you know that?"
On your cheeks, a blush crept. "Don't say that. I'm just doing what any good unnie would do."
Bada leaned closer, her lips brushing against your ear. "But you're not just any unnie. You're my everything."
Your heart skipped a beat as Bada's words sank in. Since you two had been dating in secret for some time, moments like this made it even more meaningful. You leaned in, capturing her lips in a sweet, lingering kiss.
Just then, Sowoen bursts into the room, and you quickly pulled away, trying to act casual.
"Unnie! Look, I finally got this move right!" The excited member exclaimed, oblivious to the intimate moment she had interrupted.
Bada laughed, her fingers still entwined with yours behind your back. "That's amazing! Sowoen, keep it up."
You and Bada exchanged knowing looks as you couldn't help but smile in spite of the interruption. Whether you were secretly dating or not, times like these were worth it.
As the competition progresses, you often find yourself offering words of encouragement to Bada and the other members. You've become the group's emotional pillar, providing much-needed support during the tough moments.
One evening, when you're all relaxing, Bada comes over to you and smiles in appreciation.
"Y/N unnie, I can't thank you enough for always being there for us," Bada says with sincerity. "You may not be the official leader, but you're the heart and soul of this team."
You chuckle softly, touched by her words. "Bada, we all have our roles to play, and I'm just happy to be a part of this incredible journey with you."
The competition gets more intense as the days turn into weeks. Even though you don't wear the title of leader in BEBE as the oldest member, your contributions are crucial. Your constant support, emotional fortitude, and distinct viewpoint balance the team and support Bada's leadership.
Undoubtedly, you play a key part in BEBE as the Unnie. Your relationship with the members goes beyond merely teaching them how to dance; it also involves providing them emotional support and direction when they're in need.
During the competition, you often find yourself in the role of the dependable older sister, offering encouragement and a listening ear to your fellow members.
Minah sits down next to you one evening after a tough practise session, looking worn out and discouraged.
Minah: "Y/N, I don't know if I can keep up with this," she says with a sigh. It's very difficult."
You put an arm around her shoulders, offering a comforting embrace. "Minah, it's normal to experience overwhelm occasionally. All of us do. But remember, we're in this together, and we'll support each other."
Your words help lift Minah's spirits, and she manages a small smile. "Thanks, Unnie. I needed that."
You continue to be the group's pillar of strength as the weeks pass. When Lusher faces self-doubt before a certain part of the dance, you offer words of encouragement that improve her confidence. You assist Cheche in understanding her feelings and coming up with her own original interpretation when she is having trouble connecting with a particularly emotional part.
Your job as the trustworthy Unnie involves more than just dancing; it also includes providing support and direction so that each member can shine in her own particular way.
Everyone has the opportunity to speak privately to the camera while Street Woman Fighter is still being filmed.
Tatter says with a warm smile, "Y/N unnie is like our guiding light. She always knows how to make things better with her words."
BEBE continues to grow and develop as a family and as dancers thanks to your loyal support. Despite the fact that you don't have a formal title, BEBE's adventure on "Street Woman Fighter" is made all the more unique by your presence and advice.
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violettelueur · 2 years
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𝐒𝐔𝐁𝐓𝐋𝐄 𝐓𝐎𝐔𝐂𝐇𝐄𝐒 — 𝐀𝐋𝐇𝐀𝐈𝐓𝐇𝐀𝐌
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SUMMARY. being alhaitham does make locals of sumeru question your sanity but the second you feel his touch, you no longer worry about anything but him.
CHARACTER(S). alhaitham
PRONOUNS. she/her (does say 'lady')
TW/CONTEXT. use of pet names (dear, princess), small bit of sensual activities
AUTHOR NOTE. so a lot of things have happened, the new chainsaw man trailer is out and aki looks handsome as always. the genshin livestream, where so much more lore was gifted and i am excited for alhaitham and cyno's fight and the jujutsu kaisen season two visual where the SSS trio look amazing as well (suguru the love of my life looks handsome as always). also i know the ending is bad so please don’t comment on that…ʕ; •`ᴥ•´ʔ
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If you were to ask someone about Alhaitham, they would look at you perplexed before giving you a harsh critique of the man.
“Alhaitham is a genius, don’t get me wrong, but he’s too robotics…”
“Be careful of Alhaitham, he is a very rational person. However, he’s not a good person to be friends with!”
“Alhaitham…I hate people who think they are better than others, just because they are part of the Akademiya.”
However, if you were to ask the residents of Sumeru about the lady who seemed to be alway by his side (more like he was by hers), there would be a sudden turn of opinions.
“Miss Y/N is a wonderful person, even though she is so busy being the manager at Puspa Cafe, she still helps alot of the students with their work!”
“The manager is a one of a kind, so patient with the elderly and quite welcoming with travelers, definitely has the hearts of the Sumeru people.”
“Y/N is a very smart person, so I don’t know why she disappeared from the Akademiya, but the fact that she is with Alhaitham is…weird…”
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“I don’t think working at the cafe is efficient for you, dear.”
Looking up from his papers, Alhiatham’s eyes steadily met yours before he tiredly leaned back on the wooden chair while letting out a prolonged sigh, as if he was holding in his breath for quite some time. From what you could recall, your acting manager was quite desperate to call you for help due to the sudden high workload leading you to ask one of the students to relay a message to Alhaitham that you weren’t able to see him today…only to suddenly find him seated in the corner of the cafe once the busy hours had come to a slowdown.
“It’s fine, I was…worried when I heard you couldn’t come,” Alhaitham confessed before you pull a chair to sit next to him.
Softly smiling, you could help but coo over your lover’s worries over you before looking down at the papers that were displayed in a disordered fashion. Writings upon writings on linguistics and translations of different pieces of literature brought some memories of the time when you were at the Akademiya...but that was a story for another time. “Do you want some coffee, it seems you have been here for a while,” you asked before raising your hand to gently caress his cheek with the back of your fingers - letting a pinkish hue rise upon his cheeks if you looked closely enough.
Physical affection with Alhaitham was something that was somewhat evident in your relationship, the people of Sumeru can confirm that due to the amount of time they have seen you both out together. Yet if you had a proper conversation with your lover about this topic, you both would agree that you both weren’t the affectionate type.
Taking your hand in his, Alhaitham lightly placed a kiss on your inner palm before lingering a bit longer than needed - maybe it was because of the longer time you both were separated today, you weren’t so sure?
“I’m fine, it seems like you were quite busy…I don’t want you to tire yourself out,” Alhaitham answered before going back to his papers to continue with his project. Nevertheless, when you cast your gaze down, you noticed how his and your hand was still intertwined on the table.
“Well, I’m going to make you one anyways and I might as well bring some baklava for the both of us,” you suggested before getting up from your seat while noticing how Alhaitham’s grip tightened. Even though he didn’t say anything, you had the knowledge that he didn’t want you to go, but he needed to be taken care of after waiting for you for a few hours.
“I’ll be back in 10 minutes max, I promise I won’t be long,” you reassured the scribe before beginning to depart to prepare the snack you had planned...Yet even when you were walking away, you still couldn’t help but want to relish on his touch just a little longer. Even as you were going away, your intertwined hands were still gently held on to each other, telling each other that it wasn't time to let go yet...maybe just a little longer. However, distance had to become your enemy as it was too great for your arms to reach, leaving your hands to gradually disconnect from one another, leaving you both to miss the affection already.
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The Akademiya. If you could avoid it, you simply would. However, with your history with the prestigious institute, there was simply no way you could steer clear of it anytime soon - especially when you were friends with the famous Lisa Minci, who also graduated with you in advanced studies.
Still, when Alhaitham invited you to keep him company or to help him with something…you never refused. Even if it meant you both were going to sit in silence while he worked and you read, you still accepted his offer to go to the Akademiya to keep him company.
Students will confess to you that they were surprised to see you at the institution, but they would be more confused about how Alhaitham would be there with you since they're used to seeing him work alone. Although, within the same conversation, the female students in the cafe would gush how adorable you both were (a rare compliment for the Akademiya lunatic) since they would always notice how you both hold hands on the table, making them wish they had a school romance - something you actually never really realised.
At this moment in time, you were seated opposite to your lover while looking over the books and files he had laid out for you both to study since he was having “difficulty” understanding something and needed you to guide him to the conclusion. What a liar.
Yet without hesitation, you began to notice how Alhaitham’s arm was suddenly stretched out on the table, relaxing next to yours before his index finger steadily began to ghostly trace the shape of your fingers as if he was teasing or conveying a message that only you would understand. Deciding to ignore this, you continued to scan through the papers only to pause again, once you felt something tenderly taking a hold of your fingers, only to peer up again to find the ‘lunatic’ scribe acting like he wasn’t doing something that would make you embarrassingly tremble at if you weren't seated.
“Are you testing me?” he questioned with a raised eyebrow while putting away the book he was analysing to obtain another one.
“I don’t think I could call this testing…more of…making you want more?” you replied in a questionable tone, before grabbing another sheet of paper to study.
“Oh?”
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“Thank you for the flowers, you really didn’t need to,” you smiled at the handsome scribe before holding the bouquet of Sumeru roses closer to your chest, as if you were embracing the joy and fondness you were feeling from Alhaitham’s gift. Even though, Alhaitham didn’t know why you were so cheerful by the gift he had presented, he couldn’t help but get you one every time he had a stop at Port Ormos leaving the vendor to be confused since they never really understood why the rational man would spend so much on different flowers every week. One week would be the commonly known Sumeru roses and the next it would be Liyue’s speciality of Qingxins - never caring about the price.
People at Port Omros were suddenly starting to notice the admirable interaction, as they were also bewildered by how the robotic man of the Akademiya was affectionately smiling down at the charming Puspa Cafe manager. Those your relationship was well known across Sumeru, it was still a surprise to see the couple in reality making you and Alhaitham become aware of the gazes and stares that were directed toward you both.
“Let’s go,” Alhaitham stated before placing his hand upon your lower back to guide you somewhere more private, where you would be more comfortable.
However, the eyes that were upon you didn't seem to matter anymore. The feeling of sudden warmth that Alhaitham's hand brought made you forget the displeasure that you were feeling just a few seconds ago. Yet, even when you knew this was something natural he was going...there was a small part of you that thought he knew the effect of his touch had on you.
“Are you teasing me?” you asked curiously causing the scribe to pause his stride before turning his head to look at you.
“Really? Is that what you think I’m doing after giving you flowers?” Alhaitham responded before his hand began to slowly travel upwards on your back, gently tracing the shape of your spine causing a spark of electo to ignite within you as you tense at his sudden action.
“In fact...yes I do,” you answer timidly as you began to pay attention to how his hand was now sensually travelling to the back of your neck, aware of how his thumb was now caressing the side of it, near behind your ear almost making you notice how Alhaitham was now steadily and masterfully making you weak within his arms.
Lowering his head down to your level, Alhaitham couldn’t help but place a lingering kiss upon the apple of your cheek before slowly moving towards the shell of your ear to place another, leaving you to slightly feel his breath. Smirking, Alhaitham noticed how your eyes were now closed, knowing that you were feeling lightheaded from the small pleasure he was gifting you with pride swelling up in his chest.
“If I was really teasing you, wouldn’t I be doing this instead?” he whispered, while pushing your hair aside to place another kiss upon your neck causing you to moan softly as you grabbed hold of the fabric of his shirt for support.
“Don’t drop the flowers princess…”
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© violettelueur 2022 - all rights are reserved to violettelueur. Do not repost, copy, change/modify, plagiarise, translate or screenshot my work : this will also include other social media/writing platforms like AO3, Wattpad, TikTok and many more.
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bunny-underground · 8 days
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How I'd rate BTD characters as customers
(Coming from a bartender with social anxiety)
Strade 9/10
He would be the best type of customer and I hate it- He can hold a conversation without talking at you, He's not going to be high-maintenance or complain. Plus he's ordering a lager off tap which is the easiest thing to pour and carry. Would definitely just be an easy person to deal with (Unless he takes an interest in me then I'm fucked.)
Young Ren 8/10
The same vein as Strade but with added awkwardness, he's pretty easy to talk to but there are a few awkward silences. He probably wants a spirit with a mixer but just says something generic like "Rum and coke" Which leads to me having to ask him what rum and it stresses both of us out. "Just whatever." I don't drink rum, Please don't make me make that call. If he wears some kind of anime or game merch it would help get a conversation going though...
Lawrence 5/10
This man is on the same awkward levels as me and he needs to not- Wants to be left alone which is great but he then proceeds to stare at me over the bar which makes me think he wants something but when he doesn't ask it causes me to pull my usual (Hiding under the bar and clinking bottles together so it sounds like I'm doing something). That or I'm hiding in the cellar for a bit. I will give him points because I can't see him being a hardcore Karen.
Celia 2/10
I'm sorry girlie but you would 100% complain and critique my service to my face. Snaps her fingers to get my atention when im walking past. Would also get angry that I don't know my wines or whisky off by heart and then can't recommend anything ;-; She is also definitely making passive-aggressive comments about me in general if she doesn't feel the service was good enough. She would make me cry during a shift. Girl please I'm trying.
Derek 1/10
Is the type of person to tell you why he's not tipping. Shouts at wait staff and whistles at them as well. Keeps returning the first drink claiming it's wrong or not what he ordered He did in fact order that first drink he's just being difficult. Would act like you were a friend if he was trying to show off to someone which I would awkwardly have to go along with it because "Customer is always right" Would also make me cry during a shift.
Mason 10/10
MY LOVE- He just wants to be left alone and honestly, I respect that. No small talk no awkward staring. He probably doesn't even use words. If I come over to see if he wants a refill he'll either nod or wave me off and I appreciate that and the lack of actual conversation. King behaviour.
Old man Ren 3/10
Celia take two I'm sorry. Only thing is he doesn't openly complain he just has a look that's enough to make me wish the ground would open up and swallow me. Would also make me cry during a shift. But he's also the type to look unimpressed and annoyed at the service but tip anyway and give me whiplash. Doesn't snap his fingers at me, he has some vague respect for service staff but would still terrify me regardless
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thecapricunt1616 · 2 months
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Chapter One The Bear & His Honey
Summary: Carmy + Winnie meet, He obviously tries to weasel his way into her heart by cooking for her.
A/N: Eeeep! I am sooo excited to be writing again, i've written fic's since like 2010 & stopped for quite a while, But Carmen has awoken the beast in me once more LOL !!! It's not without much thanks and love to @daysofyellowroses - Her encouragement & excitement for my ideas has inspired me in the most beautiful way. Give her a follow please! Her fic's genuinely are sososooooooo good that they made me want to start writing myself again, The theme and overall organization of her works is immaculate, I admire her works so much! I highly encourage any Carmy lover to take a look!! She is also such a doll!! And so so sooo sweet!!!
Anyhow, I love longer fics - this chapter is nearing 6k words & it initially started as a one shot, so reader be warned I am very wordy!
Warnings; Cursing, ehh I think thats it? Oh! Smoking Cigarettes & The green stuff, but thats all! *We will be getting VERY spicy, angsty, and sickeningly fluffy in this story - if that isn't your cup, ask me anything if you like my style! I am only writing for Carm at this second, but I will be writing ACOTAR & likely other things as I wet my pallate - it's been years for me, but if you have an idea that you want to throw my way, or just wanna talk (even if you just need someone!) I'm here for you peeps! Without further ado- let the show begin.
(Comments + Reblogs + Kind critiques are not only appreciated, but heavily encouraged!)
𝒞𝒽𝑒𝒸𝓀 𝒪𝓊𝓉 𝑀𝓎 𝑀𝒶𝓈𝓉𝑒𝓇𝓁𝒾𝓈𝓉!
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One
I took a deep breath, the dry, late winter air sticking my nostrils together momentarily- fuck. I hate this god-damned weather. I shuffle across the street, my boots mushing through the late-winter Chicago slush. I slosh into the alley, my boots squelching with every step. I trudge across the street, nearly gagging at every soggy step, feeling my socks ever so slowly become wet. 
I sludge my way finally to the (god-blessed, shoveled) alley across the way, that connected The Next Page to the street in front of it, and hear a muttered “fuck” & my eyes lift from the locked spot on my salty, wet boots. They meet the side-profile of an undeniably handsome curly dirty blonde male, my eyes rolling, as he pats his pockets down. I assume he forgot his light. 
As I approached him, I piped up. “Missin’ somethin’?” I flick my pink lighter to life with my thumb, My eyes meeting his large blue ones. He leans forward, gently lighting his cigarette between my thumb and the flame. “Thanks” he muttered, sucking on the cigarette between his lips, his eyes locked on me. 
“Y’ smoke?” he questioned. I shook my head gently, “Not cigarettes, but I’m bout’ to eat, s’why not?” I slipped the small tin from my pocket, pulling a shorty from the box. I put it between my lips, leaning in close, touching the joint tip to the burning end of his cigarette gently, and took a slow drag once it was fully lit.
“Work here?” I motion at the building next to us with my chin, smoke spilling from my lips as I speak. His white t-shirt made me guess he could be a line cook or a bus boy at the restaurant that had been crowding the block the past few months. He nodded, a large puff of smoke leaving his lips, the edges of his lips upturning a bit into a smile. 
“Mhmm, own it.” he said casually, taking another drag, my eyebrows raising. “Hmm,” I hummed, smoke puffing from my nose obviously in the winter air. “Wow, from the shirt- thought you’re a busboy, quite the humble owner mm’?” I teased, a smile dancing on my lips as I pulled another puff of my joint. “Yea- guess so” he teased, shrugging lightly. 
“My boss comes by once in a blue moon, so either you’re a grade-A asshole, or have crippling OCD and you think your business is gonna fail.” I teased, blowing smoke past his left as I leaned against the brick wall. He chuckled, “Alright, well- Sugar says I’m OCD whatever the fuck that means, so you got me” he shrugged. I laughed. “I can so see it, what’s your name?” I asked. 
His eyes flutter to my lips, before meeting my eyes again. “Carmen.” He replied, putting his cigarette back to his lips and taking a deep drag. “Winnie..” I replied nibbling the inside of my lip gently. Carmen. Carmen. Carmen. The word echoed in my mind like an invocation. “Winnie” he repeated, smoke spilling from his lips in tendrils.
“Full name?” He questioned. A heat rose to my cheeks and I rolled my eyes, gaze flicking to my sneakers as I took another drag of my joint. “Winnow. Shut up, if you laugh, I’ll cut off your dick. My parents were never married, not sure what they were thinking.” I mutter, the tips of my ears heating in embarrassment. “Mmm” he hummed.
I look back up at him, “No slick comments?” I asked, genuinely surprised. He shrugged. “Winnow is pretty, people make fun of that?” He questioned, dropping the mostly burnt cigarette to the ground and crushing it with his chef's clog. My cheeks felt like they were on fire. “A dude named Carmen, not used t’ people pokin’ at your name?” my glance meets his.
His arms were now crossed over his chest, his delicious biceps becoming more prominent. “Go by Carm, mostly” he shrugged. Carm. “Hmm.” I hummed. “Carm. Suits you.” I said, my eyes grazing over the tattoos adorning his arms. “Yeah?” his tongue grazed his lips, a smirk pulling at the corners. 
“Mhhmm” I reach out, my finger brushing over the ‘773’ on his arm. “From ‘round here huh?” I questioned, my eyes meeting his blue ones once more. “Ye’, east side” he said, to which I nodded. “Sorry, don’t know too much, from New York.” I said, my arms crossing over my own chest. 
“Yeah? Where about? Did culinary school out there.” he replied. “Rochester” I nod, my accent coming out slightly. “Ah, alright. Like yourself a garbage plate?” he teased. I laughed, a real laugh, something few and far between these days. “Wow, so you really went to school out there eh’? I do actually, know how that came to?” I asked my fingers finding a loose string on my jacket to fiddle with.
“Not at all, thought it was a myth- you really eat that shit out there?” he joked. I giggled. “Don’t make me hit you, Yes! We do, so story goes, frat guys stumble all drunk in to Nick Tahoes, and they tell the line cook to give ‘em the plate with ‘all the garbage’ on it. And so, since it was closing time, they took all the carby leftovers they were gonna throw out, and threw em on a plate- the guys loved it” he grimaced playfully “eugh! Guys never heard of a burger?” 
 I laughed again “there is a burger, Carm! mmm,” I hum my eyes closing and head falling back at the memory of such a comfort meal. “oh my god, mac salad, cold! Has to be cold, Carm, then you do baked beans,” I paused at his brows furrowing “Don’t look at me like that, asshole” I shove his shoulder playfully, earning a chuckle. 
“No- nope keep on explaining your… catastrophe” he teased, I gasped, feigning a shot to the heart. “Wow, Carmy, you know how to flatter a girl huh? Insulting the indigenous dish of her homeland?!” I joked, causing him to really laugh. A beautiful sound I wanted to hear more often. “Ok, ok, so then you add the homefries, then - the house chilli, ohhh my god!” I groaned my head falling back “Soo, so good, then, you add on a burger patty, or a hotdog, or both if you feel frisky” he laughed again, his eyes crinkling adorably.
“How often do you feel frisky mm? Or are you a more tame girl?” he teased. I smacked the side of his jaw gently with a large bashful smile adorning my lips, “Carmen! You do not ask a lady how often she gets frisky!” I giggled, poking his muscular chest gently. “Ok, ok, keep going- or is that the end of the abomination?” he questioned and I dug my knuckle into his chest playfully.
“Nope!! Then you add chopped onions, ketchup, and mustard!!” I grinned and he grimaced jokingly. “Holy Jesus, your breath could knock out an army after that I’d bet” he teased earning another true laugh from me. “I swear, you own his place? If you thought you were busy before- add a garbage plate to the menu, and you’ll be rich, Carmen” I adjusted the Saint Anthony chain around his neck gently, so the pendant was facing front. 
His cheeks got a bit flushed. “Well, i’m makin’ a new dessert menu, if you wanted to come in and check it out, How bout’ I make you a garbage plate, well, the Carmen-Garbage plate, we don’t do chilli here, but I think you’ll like what I pull together” he offered. 
I took another drag of my joint, contemplating. “Alright. Shops been slow today so, Mel won’t notice if I sneak an extra few minutes in” i put out the nub on the wall, before dropping it and crushing it under the toe of my boot. 
“C’mon” he nods, pulling open the large metal door that leads into the kitchen.
Read Chapter 2 Here!
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whateveryouiguess · 9 months
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idk if you take requests but!! i think reader and miguel getting a pet together would be super cute :> i wanna see mr anger issues calm down for once in his life cause of a cute puppy or something
HIII i’m still deciding if i wanna take requests but. i couldn’t NOT do this. like cmon. hope this does the trick anon 🫶🏼
el perro dinero.
Also known as: Miggy O’ Hara and his inability to tell you no ❤️
Pairing: Miguel O’ Hara x Reader
Word Count: abt 1.5k
Warnings: None :) just lots n lots of fluff, maybe improper grammar on the spanish (im not fluent yet, sorry native speakers. feel free to critique me!!!) Not beta’d, I tried to keep this one gender neutral, I don’t think I used any pronouns but if Y/N throws you off, I apologize :)
Sunday Afternoon.
“Absolutely not.” He didn’t even need a minute to think before the words left his lips.
“Miguel!” You draw out the syllables of his name in a whiny response. It was a decent question, honestly: the two of you had been together for a steady two years, going on three, and having just moved in together, the topic of “next steps” in your relationship was pretty fair game! Miguel had mentioned wanting a family before—very vaguely, but it was something you two had discussed—and it seemed like the present was a good time to make those kind of choices together. Despite his hope for your future together, he had been vehemently against the idea since you first brought it up, but you couldn’t understand why! Maybe he’d had bad experiences in the past, or he just wasn’t that kind of person? Or maybe he had an allergy you’d never heard about?
“Amor, we can not get a dog.” He slices open the tape seal of the box in front of him, leaning his elbows against the countertop as he unpacks it. “We’ve just moved in, rent here is already ludicrous…” he rambles as he unpacks thin stemmed wine glasses from the neatly packed box. You sit across from him at the bar, admiring the view of his messy hair and black wife beater against his amber skin, cheeks rosy from all the back and forth from moving vans. The love of your life—too stubborn to use a dolly, like you suggested—stacking empty boxes on the kitchen floor and using words like “ludicrous” to describe the best idea you’ve ever had. “Neither of us are home often enough to take care of a puppy-“
“We don’t have to get a puppy!” You suggest enthusiastically. He quirks an eyebrow and fights a smile at your excitement. “We’ll adopt a grown dog, maybe we’ll find one who’s already trained. You know, a lot of people forfeit perfectly behaved dogs just because they-“
“Amor.” He walks around the kitchen island to ground your shoulders with two big hands. He opens his mouth to speak, but the words are stolen by the pang in his heart at the disappointment in your eyes. The same eyes he’d spend hours gazing into without a care in the world, hearts full and minds at ease. The hopeful eyes he’d have to let down easy.
“We’re not…Not right now, honey.” His voice is kind and quiet, but to the point. “I’m sorry.” He squeezes your shoulders tightly as you sigh in disappointment. Walking back to his station by the sink, he slides a few glasses into the kitchen cabinet and continues speaking. “Possibly in a few months, if we’re stable enough and we have the time-“
“Really?” Your tone perks up immediately. His back shakes a bit, laughing at your excitement.
“Possibly. It’s possible. Don’t make any plans just yet.” He presses a kiss to the side of your head, walking towards your shared bedroom. “Póngase sus zapatos,” he pulls a light jacket on over his shoulders, sliding a pair of sunglasses onto the neckline of his tank top. “Let’s go find some lunch.”
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Friday Evening.
Since moving in with you, Miguel has quickly grown fond of the ends of his days. Taking his new route to his new home, hopping the steps up to the third floor two at a time. Mind exhausted from a long day at work, heart pulling his body through the hall to you, like a Looney Tune drawn euphorically to a pie in a window. The sound of the key twisting the lock mechanism is like a Pavlov bell, and before he’s even opened the door, he knows the treat of your arms is waiting for him behind it. This time, however, when he swings the mahogany door open, he’s not flooded with the soothing scent of your favorite candle, or pulled into your sweet embrace: he’s greeted with an empty living room, and darkness.
“Amor?” He calls out, toeing off his loafers at the door, placing his jacket over the back of the sofa. “Estás en casa?” He says quieter, padding through the house in search of you. All is quiet in the apartment until he reaches the shallow hall leading to your bedroom. His blood freezes at the faint sound of crying, high pitched and seemingly pained. Bounding to the door, footsteps heavy and shaken, he swings open the bedroom door to find you hunched over on the floor, and he can only imagine the worst has happened. Although, now that he’s closer the sound of the crying, its much more high pitched than he knows your voice to sound. When he hears you mumbling over the crying, he knows he’s severely misunderstood the situation.
“Honey?” he calls quietly. Your whip your neck around and see him standing in the doorway, concerned and disheveled in his work clothes. The sight of your red face kills him, you look as though you’ve been crying. His eyes travel to your lap and finds the source of all the noise, and his tightly knit eyebrows unravel in realization. In your lap sits a small, shivering puppy, whining as you try to wipe its eyes clean with a wet rag.
“I—I didn’t…” you stutter. With the conversation you two had been having a few days prior, you didn’t want it to seem like you’d gone against the decision you both had made . Miguel figured from the size of the pup that he couldn’t have been even a month old, and was almost certainly betrayed on the side of the road somewhere. On the streets at that age, it would’ve either been left for dead or found by someone soft hearted enough to give them a second chance. “He was all alone, he was hurt,” you sniffle as Miguel kneels beside you. “I know you said no, and I’m sorry, but I…” the desperation in your eyes is enough to make him wish he’d never denied you. “I couldn’t just leave him there.” You’ve started to cry, really cry, and even with the stress of the situation, he can’t help but curl his arms around your shoulders and hold you as tightly to him as he can. “I’m really sorry, baby.”
“Hey, no, amor. None of that.” Miguel rubs his palms up and down your arms to soothe you, careful to avoid the sad babe between your legs. “It’s…it’ll be okay. Alright? It’s okay.” He lets go of you and leans back to get a good look at the puppy. He was a little thing, no doubt the runt of his litter, but still a bit fluffy. His fur was matted and dark, the spots you’d wiped clean a few shades of brown lighter than the rest of him. Even with his staunch, no dog policy, the puppy’s floppy ears and pointed nose pulled gently on his heart strings. she watches intently as you siphon water into the little guys mouth, dabbing a drop onto your finger, then letting him lick it off. Miguel couldn’t help but smile at how the little thing preened under your touch, hoisting itself up into the palm of one of your hands, gathering more of your warmth. The love that radiates from your eyes is almost motherly, and he knows it’s love at first sight for you two. Leave it to his lover to help the lonely pup—a helpless wret in their time of need, no home to return to and no means to make anew. Left behind, forgotten, just in need of a little love. Sounds familiar, Miguel thinks to himself. The puppy wanders across your leg towards Miguel’s territory, and as soon as he presses a small paw onto his thigh, a switch is flipped for him, his hand shooting out to help the puppy climb. Mierda. He’s silent as he scoops the baby up with one hand, inspecting it like a broken package. The sweet little eyes peering back at him dismiss the perma-scowl on his face.
“He kinda looks like you, Mig.” You observe humorously, your perception of the strong, frightening man as “cute” still baffling to him. He scoffs out a laugh and sighs, gaze never leaving the puppy wriggling in his hands.
“How much is pet rent?” He says dryly. You snap your head towards him, a new hope awakened in your eyes. He pretends not to see it, smug as always.
“Are we keeping him?” You ask timidly. Miguel sets the dog back down between your legs, it’s stubby little tail wagging ferociously, shaking his entire rear, as if in understanding. Miguel smiles slightly as he repeats himself.
“How much is pet rent?”
.
.
.
THIS WAS FUNNN 🤭🤭 I imagined the puppy to be a norwegian elk hound but if you imagined something else, lmk in the comments!! im curious lol :)
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allastoredeer · 2 months
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~Lucifer blanches. He looks around, as if trying to find a sense of Alastor’s words somewhere in the trash-heap he calls a room, before rounding back to him, lips pulling up in disgust. “Are you asking me out?”
“Ahaha!” Alastor laughs, slapping him so hard on the back it nearly takes Lucifer off his feet. “Oh, Heavens no. I’m just proposing we let Hell continue thinking that you and I are,” he waves his hand, searching for the word, “in cahoots. In that way.”~
This is golden comedy right here. Honestly every time I read ur fic I always start wheezing so hard I can’t breathe, u are an amazing writer, hope u know that. When I saw ur last update on the ‘damage control’ chapter i was so excited i devoured it so fast help
Alastor saying he wants to be in ‘cahoots’ with Lucifer it’s so funny to me cause no one use that term anymore, and Lucifer is just downright dumbfounded that they are even having the conversation. I can imagine the shadow rolling his eyes at them, we need more sassy shadow moments, he is so underrated. 😭😭
I love that Lucifer is trying to respect Al boundaries, especially after the ‘incident’ , and doesn’t pry to much on his scars, but now I am curious about what did Al meant. Does he not remember who did that to him? 🥺
Also I am curious about what they gonna tell to the others about their new found relationship. I don’t think Lucifer would want to lie to Charlie, but I also think that it would be too risky to make the whole crew knew they are acting, someone might slip. And it’s not like Al is gonna make it easy for Lucy anyway. If they want to be credible, less ppl knowing it’s best course of action for me.
Last thing~ I really wanted to thank you, cause ur fic really brings me a lot of joy since I recently only been able to find happiness in small things like these , and I I can’t wait to read more🌈
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Hehehe, Alastor purposefully refusing to go into depth about their "sexual relationship," and even side-stepping outright calling it a relationship, is what's going to make it all more entertaining when he actually has to commit to the bit. Cuz you see, they're not fucking. They're "in cahoots."
It's different.
(I love Alastor's Shadow being sassy. If it's attached to Alastor, it has to be. I take no critiques.)
😈 Alastor and his scars is something I'm very excited to get into it. I've been thinking about them for a while, and while it may take a bit to actually get the answer, I'm very eager to get there when we do.
The way I see it, Alastor doesn't want to tell the others (as they already know their not actually dating--as he made VERY clear last time), but Lucifer isn't going to be okay with lying to Charlie. Out of the group, Alastor knows he can trust Husk and Niffty to keep it a secret. Maybe Angel Dust too. But he's most worried about Charlie and Vaggie.
Vaggie isn't a good liar, and Charlie's such an open, bright, heart-on-her-sleeves person, he doesn't trust her to keep up the ruse without letting something slip--most likely by accident.
But Lucifer is stubborn. He doesn't want to lie to Charlie, and if he tells Charlie, Charlie is going to tell Vaggie. If Vaggie knows, well, we already know she has a hard time lying on the spot, so if the others see Alastor and Lucifer suddenly "in cahoots," and ask about it, she's not going to be able to come up with a plausible excuse on the fly.
This is all to say, the next installment is going to be full of silly Hazbin Crew hijinks, where Alastor is forcefully enrolled into Chaggies Dating 101 Crash Course, and he is definitely not setting the grading curve. (And maybe we'll even get a bit of HuskerDust thrown in there, who knows. Certainly not me).
And it warms me so much to know that my fic can bring you joy in a time that such things are scarce 🥺 I can't wait to share more of the story with you!
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handsometheo · 8 months
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hello sweetie! :D
i see that you want to write about descendants and i would absolutely love to share some requests i've been thinking about.
idk if you write ficlets, headcannons or oneshots, so you can write in the way you feel more comfortable! :)
so, the thing is, uma and harry (separately) x artist!reader (gn please!!) where the reader draw and write music and poetry about their lover/crush. i just want to see how they would react if they seen the readers art bcs i think it would be soooooo cute!
(im so sorry if you can't understand something, english isn't my first language.)
take care of yourself. love u!!
I love this so so much! thank you!
Hope this doesn't end up being too bad, I feel it was a little rushed (not because I felt I was being rushed just that I had a few thoughts that I needed to write before they were gone yk?)
I'm doing it so it's:
Harry Hook x painter/drawer!reader
And
Uma x music artist! Reader
To make it easier to imagine
Also I've kept it gender neutral dw and I've also written it so Uma and Harry are in Auradon when they meet you
Please feel free to request more at any point (I'm going to write for all descendants characters but mostly Harry Hook)
----------------------
Harry Hook
Let's imagine Harry has no idea who you are in the beginning
Some random person that's always seen drawing, painting, creating something.
He's seen some of your works hung around Auradon prep in expensive looking frames
He doesn't approach you for a while, in fact Gil is the first to meet you
Gil takes the same art course as you so you meet there when Gil had a bit of a paint disaster
Harry was originally cautious around you because he thought you'd be some stuck up art critique kind of person who was going to complain about Gil
But when you instead explain that you could see what he was trying to do but the actual execution of it wasn't great , Harry laughed with you
Overall your first meet was a positive one that was the beginning of a laughter filled relationship
Harry would always see you sat somewhere, in some weird position, scribbling away in your sketchbook
He eventually spots what you are drawing, or better yet who.
Him
He crashes.
All thoughts, Gone.
He's just staring at it for a good 5 minutes before you have to click your fingers in front of his face to wake him up.
"H- How, no, why are ye drawin' meh?" Heat rises to his cheeks and he slowly brings his thoughts back to Earth.
He'd already had been developing feelings for you since you two met. I mean you were nice to his friends, kind to him, he let you meet his sisters at one point and they seemed to even like you. You are fun to be around, you check that he's taking care of himself, you make sure he's not too bashed up from the sports he plays. What isn't there to like?
"You have a pretty face, nice to draw." He takes note of the blush that grows on your cheeks and the way you look off to the side with a shy smile growing. "I draw the people I like, the people I'm closest to."
His heart almost stops. Did you just try to kill him?! 'cause clearly you aren't aware of the way you make him feel.
I headcannon Harry to be Pansexual, as a pan person myself, so he was kinda well known on the Isle for being able to flirt with anyone he wanted for various reasons
But let me tell you, not once had he had the air knocked out of his chest from a few simple words.
You take his silence the wrong way and begin packing your things to go find somewhere to wallow in your shame, but Harry just drops to his knees in front of you.
"Please, draw meh, whenever ye want to." He is on his knees looking at you with the happiest smile he can muster and almost puppy like wonder in his eyes. "I'll be yours, if you'll be mine?"
Okay that bit came out a little too easy to him, he didn't really mean for that to happen.
But he can't complain since you agreed!
Everything you create for him, he treats like it's the most fragile item he's ever come in contact with
He's always showing it off though he's so appreciative of everything you do so he wants to show the entire world
When you feel down for not feeling your art is good enough, he's oddly prepared to show every bit of art you've ever given him with reasons on what makes it perfect to him
He may as well be prepared with a PowerPoint presentation on every one of your works he's seen
I fact he's probably prepared one somewhere, pictures, effects, transitions, the whole shebang!
He draws too, almost forgot to mention. I've got a little headcanon of him always doodling pirates on cool adventures when he was younger on the isle. I also like to imagine that there was a time where Evie and Harry liked to draw together but Evie drew Princesses and dress designs and Harry drew pirates which created some childish clashing between the two. So they'd stopped almost as soon as they started their little doodle hangouts
That's offtrack, sorry.
He gives you pictures of you in multiple different styles, each time it seems like he's trying to depict you as an angel of sorts
He also draws the Uma and the crew but he comes to check that he got everyone right with you
ART DATES.
YOU'RE GOING TO ALL THE MOST AESTHETICALLY PLACES HE CAN FIND
He may or may not let you take pictures of him for references as long as he can do the same with you, he's also pretty good at photography so he loves getting new picture of you with some fantastical background making you stand out so much more
Uma
Uma knew who you were when she arrived in Auradon, she'd heard your music played at cotillion
She couldn't complain about it, it wasnt her usual style but it was new and she liked that
When she had officially arrived she would notice you all around
Playing music for parties, proper events, even just around the school
Despite her not meeting you she subconsciously finds her way to you
She listens out for you whenever she can
She ends up actually meeting you thought Evie
Evie was designing everyone's outfits for a party so your fitting time overlapped into Uma's time. Uma didn't mind and in fact took the opportunity to tell you that she'd heard you around but hadn't had the chance to meet you
From then, you became quick friends.
Her feelings developed the more time she spent with you, she just loves listening to your music
She'd like to learn an instrument that would compliment your style of music so you could play together
She helps you with lyrics whenever you need the help
She first finds out that you write songs about your experiences and the people around you by looking at the lyrics for some of your songs
She finds it sweet that although you don't directly mention people, you can share the way you feel to them to those who will listen
But then she finds a song that's for her
I mean who else would it be for, she's the person you spend most of your time with and she's the pretty pirate with blue hair
She definitely looks over the lyrics and gets so giddy that she's kicking her feet with glee, when you walk in and see her smiling at the page she doesn't stop smiling
She immediately asks what you mean and when you tell her she latches onto you
Basically, she asks you out right then and there
Who are you to deny her? Of course you accept
⊱ ────── {.⋅ ♫ ⋅.} ───── ⊰
So sorry it took longer than I thought, and sorry Uma's part was shorter thats my dumb lil brain being dumb
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