#I'm just glad I now have friends that genuinely like me and like spending time with me. it makes me very happy

[jadeylovesmarvelxo]

Eddie is in the middle of his biggest campaign yet, meanwhile you're sick and while out for errands you end up running into your ex.

Slight Dom vibes from Eddie. Older Eddie x reader (Eddie is 42, reader is late twenties) protective Eddie. 18+

❤️

"The campaign is the biggest one I've planned yet and all the guys are excited for it. I'll be m.i.a for a little while so try and behave while I'm gone" you sprawl across his bed and love the way his eyes darken at the sight of your naked body.

"I guess. It's more fun when I misbehave though" you reply impishly and that makes Eddie smirk just a little bit.

Sweetheart are you going to be good for me or not?" Eddie asks patiently while you pout and settle back on the bed.

"Maybe" you shrug and Eddie shakes his head torn between adoration for you and exasperation. He leans down to kiss you, loses himself in the sensation for a moment or two.

He can't get enough of kissing you, he can't get enough of feeling your body pressed against his and watching you come undone. He can't get enough of spending time with you and being with him.

He's never felt like this before until you, just so full of love and adoration. For the first time in his life he's actually considering postponing a campaign but eventually the little nagging voice inside of his head (that sounds suspiciously like Dustin) forces him out the door.

"If you need anything then you call me, okay princess?" you nod along but he knows you would never interrupt a campaign, "I mean if baby anything at all" he's still hesitant to leave but you practically push him out the door.

"Go or we all know Dustin will be here in seconds if You're even a little bit late" he scoffs but knows you're not wrong. The little butthead would send the cavalry.

With I love yous exchanged he's then out of the door and on his way to the campaign.

❤️

You were planning to hit the bookstore in town and then heading to Family Video for a movie to watch while Eddie was gone.

His campaigns were meticulously planned out and you knew this session could last most of the afternoon and some of the night.

It was so hot to watch Eddie when he was so passionate about things he loved and you had even sat in on a campaign or two, made up a character and genuinely enjoyed playing with Eddie and his friends.

Truly it would have been nice to join him today but you had been feeling out of sorts since last night and Eddie refused to get you any more sick, he had gently ordered you to rest up as much as possible and call him on the landline the minute you felt worse.

It took long enough to even get him out of the door to even go to campaign so there was no way you were interrupting him after he had spent so much time on it, you had your movies, medicine and a new book, along with soup and hot cocoa. You would be fine.

The fresh air helped and it was always lovely to see Hawkins in the fall, the gorgeous oranges, rust and golden hues of the trees, the chill in the air and Halloween decorations dotted around the town.

Your peace ends up interrupted by a very unwelcome figure. Your ex. Alastair.

"Has the freak left you all alone today?" You ignore Alastair and walk past him. God what did you see in that asshole? It was only a couple of months but you should have seen that he was a douchebag from the start.

Thankfully you had dumped him and moved on. You had found Eddie who treated you like a queen, who adored you and loved you so much.

"I'm talking to you. Stupid bitch" Alastair snarls and he grabs your arm. The violent tug makes you lose your balance and you stumble.

"Let of me" you snap and his face turns puce but before he can do anything else someone blocks him from your view.

"Clear off dickhead" its Steve and he's glaring at Alastair whose face drains of colour.

"You know I'm glad it's that freak who has you now. At some point he will get sick of your bullshit as well" he snarls and walks away.

You're teary and just want to go home. The glow of your perfect morning with Eddie is long gone.

"You okay?" Steve asks kindly and you nod still feeling shaky. You're furious that Alastair has ruined your day and gotten under your skin again, tears of fury blur your vision and Steve softens.

"Come on. I'll walk you home"

❤️

When you head back to Eddie's trailer your head is pounding and Alastair's words play on your mind. It was no good giving that assholes opinions the time of day, the thing is he always managed to say things that got under your skin or that he knew would hurt the most.

It was hard to ignore him and even though you shake up you still refuse to call Eddie. In all honesty you were nervous to say anything about this. He was so protective of you that you worried he would actually knock Alastair out for grabbing you like that.

You didn't want Eddie in trouble so you resolved to keep quiet. Though if Alastair came near you again you were absolutely kicking him in his tiny little balls.

...

You had been strangely quiet since Eddie had arrived back home, usually you were slightly mischievous, chatty and would tell him all about your day. He told you all about the campaign and how well it had gone, you seemed genuinely excited but there was still something bugging you that Eddie couldn't figure out.

Were you still feeling sick?

"Eddie, do you get sick of me sometimes?" the question hangs in the air and Eddie gapes, what? Where the fuck was this coming from?

"Of course not sweetheart. Why would you ever think that?" You shake your head and cuddle up close to him. He held you tightly, trying to soothe away what was worrying you. What happened from this morning to now?

"No reason, I just wondered that's all" he frowns and holds you closer to him, determined to let you know how much you mean to him.

"I love you sweetheart. I could never get sick of you. Please never think like that because it will never happen" the words seem to relax you but Eddie is still suspicious about why those thoughts were even on your mind.

He's determined to find out and he doesn't have to wait very long.

❤️

Steve visits that afternoon and Eddie's worries deepen when he asks if you're okay after yesterday.

"What happened yesterday?" he knew there was something that was bothering you. He should have pressed a little bit more last night but he knew you would tell him in time. He's anxious now that it's something really bad.

It must be judging from your question last night, something had put those thoughts on your mind and now he was closer to finding out what.

Steve frowns. "Did she not tell you that dickhead of an ex was hounding her?" Eddie freezes and shakes his head.

"Shit no, she looked like she wanted to tell me something all night but kept closing up. I should have known it would be something to do with him" he closes his eyes and takes a deep breath to control his anger.

Not that he was angry at you, no way. However he was angry at your ex and his inability to leave you alone. Anytime Alastair saw you it caused him to act like a complete dick, he's pretty sure the guy must naturally be an ass or he didn't like the fact that you dumped his ass.

Either way Eddie wasn't going to let the little fucker away with hurting you. He thanks Steve for telling him and for being there for you, even though he wishes he could have been there himself.

He doubts very much your ex would have said anything when he was around and was one of those people who liked to get their targets on their own.

Once Steve leaves you arrive back home shortly after, you kiss his cheek and take your bag full of groceries into the kitchen.

Eddie follows you and wraps his arms around your waist while trailing soft kisses over your neck.

"Hey princess, Steve came over today to ask how you were after yesterday" you stiffen for a few seconds but relax when he soothes you.

"That was sweet of him. I guess he told you what happened with Alastair? I've been meaning to tell you, it's just trying to find the right words but yeah he was his usual self and he grabbed me..." You turn to him but he's extremely quiet.

You must notice the dangerous glint in his eyes because you cup his cheek and reassure him that you're fine and everything is okay.

Eddie holds you close and kisses you, he's fuming that your ex dared put his hands on you and you quietly tell him the rest of what happened and by the end of it he's pissed.

"I love you so much sweetheart, so fucking much and if that asshole bothers you again then I swear I'll knock his teeth out" he seethes and you shake your head not wanting that to happen.

"I love you Eddie and I don't want you in trouble for that asshole" you rest your head on his chest and he strokes your hair.

"Oh I won't get into shit but he might" he mutters and plans to have a word with your shitty ex. There was no way that douchebag was getting away with hurting you.

"Eddie" you warn him and sigh when you get one of his charming smiles in return.

"I promise you princess that I won't harm a hair on his head even if he deserves it" Eddie vows and you nod believing him. Whatever he had planned though would likely be something Alastair would never forget.

...

Funnily enough Alistair doesn't bother you again and when you ask Eddie about it he simply says they had a little chat.

Knowing how protective Eddie is you can just imagine how that went. It must have been something that got through to him because in the rare times you did see Alistair out and about in town, his eyes would widen and he'd rush away clutching his privates and letting out a squeal.

"Eddie what the hell did you do?" you ask torn between amusement and exasperation.

"I just told him to leave my girl alone or he'd maybe be an appendage less" he shrugs innocently. "No one tries to hurt you and gets away with it" he kisses your forehead and you stifle a smile as the two of you head back home.

❤️

[t00thpasteface]

i very deeply respect your mashposting and even though im not as enthusiastic about hawkahy as you are i think the content you make for them us delightful and some of the best mashposting on this godforsaken website. that being said, i wanted to know ur takes on the hawkeye & trapper dynamic, and the hawkeye & bj dynamic. Not in a shippy way, just in the World of Hawkahy what role do trapper and bj play in their relationships with hawkeye :3 this because i love that one comic u did where hawkeye is spunchbop and bj is Patrick its one of my fave pieces of mash fanart lol

(⁠๑˘❥⁠⁠ ˘๑⁠) first off, THANK YOU!! i'm soooo crazy about hawkahy and i really enjoy contributing to my fellow shippers, but i'm glad my art can also still appeal to people who are less interested the ship itself.

second, VERY fun question!! i wish i had definitive answers for yall, but you know me... i love to go "well idk it could go either way" ^_^;; really, it depends on what kind of tone and theme i'm looking for. i don't really write heavier stuff (because i have so much fun writing funny fic) so that kind of narrows my options, but there's a lot of potential i'd love to explore— or see someone else explore, if they're so inclined!

TRAP:

generally the trapper reading i typically default to is that he and hawkeye have a pretty casual FWB thing going on. trapper considers hawkeye a very close friend and hooks up with him at an intersection of bicuriosity and deep platonic affection, but hawkeye catches baddddd feelings and ends up genuinely heartbroken to find out their thing was lopsided. in this case, hawkahy would happen only after trapper leaves— mulcahy has a tough time trying to get noticed before that point :( but at the same time, i don't think mulcahy would pounce at the first opportunity, because i don't think an immediate rebound would be good for hawkeye nor mulcahy... but it could happen for dramaaaaa...

another version of the hawkeye-trapper rapport that i love playing with in my fics is trapper being generally very supportive but nonetheless slightly grossed out. i think there's a lotttt of comedy potential with hawkeye thinking it's okay to fuck a priest but NOT a married woman, and meanwhile trapper is pro-infidelity but anti-priestfucking (for whatever reason), and they squabble and tease each other about it the whole time.

it's also funny to think about is trapper trying to figure out whether mulcahy now gets the "one of the bros" back-slapping beer-chugging dude treatment, or if instead he's now slotted into the "go easy on 'em trap" category that protects hawkeye's ladyfriends from hearing trapper's bawdiest jokes and comments when hawkeye brings them along as a plus-one to the swamp.

trapper seems like he's pretty likely to sniff out that hawkeye and mulcahy are seeing each other even if they try their damnedest to keep it secret. i like to think hawkeye trusts trapper enough that he would go ahead and divulge it it up front pretty soon after it's official. trapper could probably even pick up hawkeye's crush beforehand... maybe even before hawkeye knows about it!

i don't see trapper as being too jealous of hawkeye spending a lot of time with mulcahy, even if it means hawkeye is now exclusive and not sleeping with trapper anymore. if anything i think he'd be pretty stoked that he's got one less guy to compete with for the nurses' attention. pretty sweet deal as far as he's concerned.

i do think there'd be some tricky navigating between how hawkeye acts with trapper and the STARK difference with how he acts around mulcahy, which you can see clear as day in the s1 finale, where hawkeye gets soooo soft and careful while talking to mulcahy. i don't think either one is disingenuous; i think hawkeye contains multitudes. hawkeye's not the type to fake sincerity. and to that end, i really don't think hawkahy should hinge on hawkeye totally giving up all the cruder parts of his personality (especially since mulcahy is really no saint either), so it could be pretty interesting to see that manifest in whether/how he's still maintaining a close friendship with trapper now that he's been seeing mulcahy regularly and trying to make a good impression.

BEEJ:

the direction bj goes in depends on whether hawkahy are already an item before he gets there. he does form that almost instantaneous trauma-bond with hawkeye on his first day, but i think if hawkeye admitted "yeah by the way the chaplain is my boyfriend" as soon it seemed safe, bj would be able to take it in stride as another weird little quirk of the mash he has to get used to. he's too hung up on dealing with all the gore to worry about who's banging who.

by contrast, i think he could potentially get pretty upset/jealous if hawkeye and mulcahy paired up a little while later. i can see him feeling really betrayed, like, "what do you normally do when i'm gone?" "wait for you to get back!!"

if bj still doesn't feel like he's really enmeshed himself into the unit— which i think on some level, he never wants to, because he's banking on dropping everything like a hot potato the second he can— then i can totally picture him just feeling completely lost and isolated when hawkeye is suddenly forgoing their boys-nite boozathons in favor of getting some priest pipe. like, at least trapper could always go find his own cuddle buddy to pass the time and had nurses lining up to volunteer; bj has basically nobody and doesn't seem inclined nor equipped to fix that. hawkeye is his liason to the rest of the camp, and bj isn't so great with people without having hawkeye there to help as both teleprompter and safety net.

basically i think bj wants to keep hawkeye within a very specific arm's-length radius— not too close, but not too far either, and hawkeye having so much private time with someone else could really get under his skin.

you could also have bj think the priestfucking is gross/bad on sheer principle like trapper did, even without the jealousy angle, and it'd probably hold a little more water coming from bj than trapper. however, it'd be funny if he's insisting it's definitely not a jealousy thing and he's being fully objective about it, but you can totally tell he's just jealous. x)

i admit i kinda love seeing bj get tormented, because he's got such obvious buttons to press and yet sternly insists that they don't even exist, similar to houlihan and frank. like, you can't just set that up and not expect me to rub my hands together and SLAM those buttons as hard as i can. ergo, bj getting jealous about hawkahy is supremely funny to me. i'm not too proud to admit that!

[egg-emperor]

I don't reflect on it much now but it's times like these where I get harsh reminders of how bad of a year 2022 was and realize how far I've come

Becoming the target of harassment and slander due to a combination of my Eggman creations and then being blamed for my abuse after learning the reasons behind it was really hard. I almost died months before that campaign even happened because I was in a terrible place anyway and some knew and still hurt me and made it worse. They made me regret surviving for a while. And if I expressed how hurt I was by it all, I was called manipulative

I lost so much in so many ways and had vile things said about me and my abuse and if it wasn't for the real friends and the lovely followers and anons who stuck by and supported me, I don't think I'd still be here. I was still acting out in terrible ways online for a while after because I was in an absolute awful place mentally due to irl and online struggles. There's a lot of deleted posts and DMs I regret but I genuinely wasn't thinking right for months, my mind was genuinely fucked

I developed some bad habits that I haven't fully recovered from and fluctuate between how bad they are but I'm glad it's one of the only things left to work on. The stress, anxiety, and depression of 2022 worsened my health issues a lot as last year I started experiencing increased fainting and other physical health issues. At that point I realized I needed a change for my safety and health. For a while I didn't even feel like I deserved to be helped so it was hard but I finally did it

Now I'm getting support with bills, going to doctor and hospital appointments to look into my disability for diagnosis and hopefully to be helped, I have a therapist I just started with. I'm personally not an SSRI meds kind of guy so I've been doing every other method to recover instead. I've also made a ton of progress mentally on my own with my mindset, it's far less of a negative and angry place than it was then. I manage how I deal with setbacks better, I don't feel like I'm back at square one when things get bad now

I spend far less time thinking about what happened or letting their negativity consume me. There's been a few times since where parts of it have come back up and it's been challenging at times but I can handle them more rationally and be the sensible level-headed one and assure that I don't go back to that place. It's okay for me to be hurt by it and realize what happened to me was wrong but I don't let it haunt me every moment anymore. It's no longer the first thing I think of when I wake and last when I go to sleep

And I've realized what really matters and what's really important to me. The passion and joyful expression of the things I love and all the great people that are still here that I have the delight of getting to know and talk to. There's still a lot of challenges coming up in the future but I'm happy that it has nothing to do with everything back then. I want to express myself and my passion and never feel the shame they wanted me to. I want to get better. I finally want to live. I have hope and believe better times are ahead

And I'm very grateful for everyone who is warm, kind and supportive of me along the way. I appreciate everyone who is accepting of me and make me feel like I finally belong somewhere. Thank you 💜

[ssoupcup]

sometimes i feel bad for posting too much of my interests to my tumblr and like im annoying my friends. then i realise this is my fucking tumblr?? a place to engage with my interests? maybe. maybe i think i need to get over myself and realise that people dont just automatically dislike me for existing. and that perhaps, my friends like me and aren't annoyed at my every move and if they were they aren't meant to be my friend.

[crljhnn]

The older Jefferson

Pairing: Rodrick Heffley x fem!Reader

Summary: After Rowley announces that his older (half-)sister, who lives quite far away and has never met the Heffleys, is going to visit him over the break Susan invites his family over for dinner. Her not being what Rodrick expects, he starts crushing, which results in him trying to impress her - failing horribly.

No physical description; No use of y/n

Word count: 1.9k

Warnings: None

A/N: Hi, just a quick warning that English isn’t my first language and that this is also the first time I’ve ever written a longer text in English that isn’t a school assignment. I also don’t fully understand Tumblr yet, which makes me honestly a bit anxious to post.

[This and a gender-neutral version are also posted on AO3]

“Why haven't you ever mentioned that you have an older Sister?” Rowley and Greg were sitting on the Heffleys living room floor - Rodrick occupying the whole space on the couch - playing a video game. Well, Greg was. It was a single-player. He promised they would take turns, but by now Rowley had been over for about two and a half hours and hadn’t even had the chance to touch the controller yet. He gave up on asking and settled on just watching about 45 minutes in.

“I talked about her before. Multiple times actually.” That is true. Rowley looks up to his sister a lot “Also, she is technically my Half-Sister. She’s been living with her Dad for longer than I remember. Normally we are the ones flying over to visit during summer break, but she hasn’t visited since she was a little Kid, and after her school schedule finally allowed it, we thought it would be a good idea if she, for a change, came here instead.”

“It sounds like you two get along great!” Mrs. Heffley walked in, holding a laundry basket under one arm while carrying Manny with the other.

“We do! I can’t wait to show her my room and have her around for the entire break! I have so much planned out already, it's gonna be so much fun! Best summer ever!”

“That sounds lovely Rowley, I wish Greg was so excited to hang out with Rodrick, but they just won't get along.” Susan sighed, throwing a pitiful glance at her two oldest, who simultaneously let out a laugh hearing this.”

“Yeah, never gonna happen.” Greg says, “I would rather spend the whole summer in school than voluntarily hang out with this idiot.”

“My Sister is actually around the same age as Rodrick.” Rowley buts in. Greg doesn’t understand how this is relevant, but it probably adds to his mother's yearning for her two oldest sons to get along. Rodrick lets out a laugh hearing that.

“I can’t wait to meet them. Just imagine an older, female version of Rowley. That’s actually fucking hilarious!”.

“Watch your language! Also, I'm sure she is wonderful.” Gregs Mom loosens her lecturing stance, turns around, and smiles at Rowley “I would love to have you and your family over for dinner sometime. It has been a while since I’ve seen your parents and I would love to meet your sister.”

“That sounds great Mrs. Heffley. I will ask my parents as soon as I get home!”

That brings us to about a week later, when the Jefferson family, including their oldest daughter, is standing in front of the Heffleys House, ringing their doorbell.

Rowley has been telling you all about his best friend Greg for years, which made you somewhat excited about finally meeting him. However, you can’t say that the picture your brother painted is entirely positive, finding him rather irritating in many of the stories you were told over time. You aren't too mad though, assuming it is normal for young, teenage boys to act like jerks every once in a while. Not everyone can be such a sweetheart as Rowley. Overall you're glad your brother managed to maintain such a long-lasting friendship.

And then there was Rodrick. You've heard rather interesting stories about him as well. In the beginning, you found those quite amusing, that was until you realized that Rowley was genuinely terrified of him. Not the best first impression someone could make on you. Influenced by seeing your younger sibling grow up to be such a sweet and genuine person you tend to be a bit protective from time to time.

You hear some hushed voices from inside, and you can identify one of them as female, reminding someone to behave. Then the door opens and a woman, who you assume to be Mrs. Heffley, kindly smiles at you. Your suspicion is confirmed a second later when she introduces herself and shoos you into the house, before continuing to greet the rest of your family.

Crossing the threshold you can now see a man standing slightly behind Greg's mother. He introduces himself as Frank, making quite a kind impression on you. Then he leads you into the living room to meet his sons.

The two older ones hardly even notice you at first, too occupied with arguing and rowing with each other.

“Boys!”, their father speaks up, successfully catching their attention. Rather comically their gazes fall from their father to you, their eyes widening and their mouths dropping open. You were not what they expected. While Greg looks just shocked, you would describe Rodricks state as mesmerized.

He recovers fast, pushes Greg off of him, stands up, and puts on what he hopes is a charming smile. Extending his hand he starts to introduce himself.

“Hi, I’m-”

At least he tries to.

“Rodrick. I know. My brother has told me one or two rather interesting stories about you”, your smile is sharp. He gulps, his confident smile turning sheepish, cursing Rowley in his head. You are not what he expected and you are definitely not anywhere close to being a female carbon copy of your, in his eyes, embarrassing younger brother.

He normally wouldn’t consider himself the kind of person who has a type, but from now on, if someone asked, he would probably revert to describing you. You were just ethereal, everything about you was attractive to him. The way you walked, talked, and carried yourself, but also your clothing and hairstyle. Your pretty face just rounds up your whole appearance, making you all the more alluring.

He had to get on your good side. While a family dinner, especially with Greg present, may not be the best opportunity, he could ask Rowley to put in a few good words for him. That kid was easily influenced (or intimidated). Still, making the best possible impression over dinner wouldn’t cause any harm either.

You turn to the other boy who has been silently watching the exchange. Now that your attention is on him he starts feeling nervous as well. Your expression, however, turns a bit more friendly.

“And you must be Greg.” he nods. You introduce yourself and lastly say hello to Manny who is sitting on the floor playing with some figurines. By now the others have entered the room, causing Susan to start leading you all to the dining table.

You’re seated between Rowley and Greg, across from Rodrick, which results in quite frequent eye contact. On one side you really want to intimidate him a bit. This could maybe make your brother's life a bit easier, at least for the time being. On the other side, you do want to make some conversation, maybe throw in a bit of (family dinner appropriate) flirting or at least find out if he’s single.

It’s really hard to hold a grudge against someone who is entirely your type.

While you’re conflicted, Rodrick, on the other hand, is sweating. Nervously fidgeting in his seat. You didn’t seem as irritated with him anymore, if the eye contact was anything to go by. Was this his chance to redeem his shitty first impression? He cursed his brain for failing to come up with something cool to say.

Since when is it so hard to talk to girls? Is it getting hotter in here? What impresses girls? What does he normally brag about? His band! That’s it. Now he just has to bring it up somehow. Maybe he can bribe Greg to ask him about it. No, that’s too risky, he can’t count on Greg to not fuck this up. He is just going to casually bring it up ‘I’m in a band by the way, pretty sick huh?’ ‘Do you like music? Cause I’m in a band’ No that’s stupid everyone likes music… ‘Which kind of music do you listen to?’ That’s good, he should bring up the topic of music first, that’s a normal conversation topic. After that step two is to bring up the band. That’s easy, he got this.

Now he just needs to wait till your attention is on him again and then he can smoothly lead the conversation in the desired direction. He has to calm down, he can do it.

Breathe in.

Breathe out.

Your eyes meet again.

“I’m in a band!” He speaks way louder than intended, his voice is squeaky, and in the middle of the sentence he has the most embarrassing voice crack imaginable.

Silence.

The sole attention is now on him. All he hears is Greg's snickering which causes him to kick him under the table.

“Ow!” That was not Greg's leg. He looks up to see you looking at him with a questioning expression.

That’s it. He fucked up. His chances were already low, but he still managed to shrink them even more, making them most likely completely vanish. Great. His ears were ringing, all he can hear is Greg's quiet laughter in the background.

“I'm sorry I didn’t mean to kick you, I-” he starts his apology but loses track of what he is trying to say when he sees your expression change. You're clearly trying to suppress a smile, but it's not working at all.

“You’re adorable.” Rowley chokes on his food, and Greg's laughter abruptly stops

“Rodrick? Adorable?” That’s it. Greg gives up on ever trying to understand girls. How can his stupid older brother embarrass himself like that, then kick the poor girl under the table and still be perceived as adorable by her, especially since she is so much out of his league?

Rodrick however, was still not functioning properly.

“So that band, is its name by any chance Löded Diaper?”

“Yeah.” He is proud of himself for speaking at an appropriate volume without stuttering. “How do yo-”

“I saw your creepy white Van in front of the house. What’s up with that, kidnapping little kids as a side hustle?” You are still smiling, and with your stupid joke you somehow manage to relax the atmosphere a bit, the adults going back to their conversation.

Rodrick too is now smiling, looking at you with an expression you could only describe as lovestruck, even though you just insulted him.

He is contemplating making a joke about how the space in the back could be quite useful for more than just trapping kids but decides against it, fearing to make it awkward again. Getting nervous about taking too much time to come up with an answer he instead lands on “No only kidnapping pretty girls like you.”. As soon as the words leave his mouth he regrets it, realizing it's in fact not a funny and flirty thing to say, but honestly rather creepy.

At the end of the evening, Rodrick has messed up flirting with you multiple times, however, it’s his luck that you find his desperate attempts to look cool to impress you weirdly endearing. Not that he realizes that. Calling Rodrick confused, questioning why you were still talking to him, would be an understatement.

He certainly doesn’t know how he can have messed up so many times and still end up finding a little note with your number on it in his pullover hood after you left.

[chaithetics]

GIRLLLL OMGGGG YOUR MONEKY MAN FIC HELLO?? HELLOOOO???? so good. i just came back from watching it and wtf. now that is how u direct and that is how u make a profound film. (i’m glazing him and this film so hard but idc i just want 1 chance dev PLS JUST GIMME 1 ONE IS ALL I NEED) also r u indian? cuz when i saw the “jaan” i read it it in his voice and my knees literally almost hit the ground like i was like 😧🌚😜😍🤭🤭😋😋🤤🥰 the whole time!!! if i may, can i request another monkey man fic/drabble/whatever u wanna make it but it’s about how they met? basically like a backstory on how they met and got together. thank youuu! 🫶🏽

Blood-Stained Meetings, Nauseous Introductions

Pairing: Kid (Monkey Man) x reader Word count: 2.6K Warnings: 18+ MDNI, mentions of anxiety, injuries/blood, longing, reader has no physical description, a kiss, no smut. Not proof or beta read. A/N: Hey lovely Nonnie, so glad you enjoyed the film! It's so good! Dev Patel is so talented. I hope you and everyone else reading this and in the fandom enjoys this fic! 🫶(Please do and validate me, I'm scared it's TERRIBLE and I'm not happy with this, genuinely terrified lol) Comments, reblogs etc. are always more than appreciated and encouraged! Enjoy 🥰 Gif by @junkfoodcinemas Somewhat inspired by an old chat with the talented @mittos about how reader would probably hate seeing him fight, and tagging @lialilalo because I feel bad about ending up taking a week to get this out since your ask!

Sure, there were probably worse ways to spend a Friday night, but you also knew that there were definitely much better ways to spend a Friday night as well. But you simply weren’t the kind of person who did better things on a Friday night, that wasn’t in your DNA. Obviously. This was your brother's idea of fun after all. 

It didn’t surprise you that this was how your adult brother wanted to spend the start to his weekend and drag you along, or that this was a frequent pastime of his. It didn’t mean that it horrified you any less though. 

You’d sighed and dreaded this for hours, days probably, subconsciously. 

Yet, you still were here. You’d changed out of your work clothes for this, you’d tried to make yourself as presentable as possible when you knew it was an effort you’d see reflected in your brother. You were dreading leaving your home and having to blend into the sea of bloodthirsty betters you were about to find yourself in. 

You walk with your brother and one of his friends into the building, it’s large and crowded. Everyone is packed in like sardines as they yell about what odds they’re betting on, who’s the biggest and strongest, who’s the most nimble-footed and quickest, and who is the immediate runt of the competitors. You can already feel yourself becoming stressed, at this environment. You don’t understand the appeal of this but you understand how it can become a reality with the world that you’re all in. 

The heat stings your face like a slap, as you stand there, close to your brother so you don’t get split up in this sea and he rambles in your ear about who he placed a bet on, how they usually do. All of the information that seems so important in a moment like this to everyone else. But you’ve seen enough blood, you don’t need to be fascinated by people getting bloodied up like this. It’s a privilege that you’ve been able to avoid this your whole life. 

If you were seeing this at home, or if it wasn’t so packed in here tonight, you’d feel a little less self-conscious. And if you felt a little less self-conscious, you’d be chewing on your nails, all the way down to the nail bed. Until you felt the all too familiar sting of going too far. You give your hand a little shake to try and get rid of that urge, now’s not the place or time to wear your nerves on your sleeve. So instead, you try to offer up a small smile to your brother as he leads you to a spot on some benches nearby. 

The bench is relatively close to the ring, but it’s good, you’re already overstimulated and trying to make it up further to higher seats isn’t an idea that agrees with you right now, and it surely promises you a quick exit if needed. You look around, the dim lighting further adds to everything, your eyes scan the faces of those in the crowd and you look out at the ring. It’s big, you think, but you’re not sure if it’s a standard size or not for this sport. 

An announcer enters the ring, he looks sleazy and has a large, sly smirk pasted onto his face, one that makes you uncomfortable. You look at your brother to try and share a knowing glance but he’s focused on what’s in front of you both. You let out a quiet sigh as you tilt your head back to focus on what’s in front of you. 

The announcer opens his mouth and he speaks in a South African accent, that surprises you and you can’t help but look at your brother again. He announces himself as Tiger. This night is already so random, and you have a feeling that it’s only going to get more wild. 

“He’s the owner.” Your brother says as he tilts his head to whisper loudly in your ear. You can hear him over the whooping, clapping, and chants that have started. You nod as you look back at the ring, trying to pay attention to what you’re going to soon witness. Despite how overwhelming it all is. 

Tiger then introduces a fighter who’s dressed to almost look like a reptile, he’s introduced as King Kobra and gets a warm, adoring welcome from the audience with thunderous applause and cheers. You don’t clap as you can’t help but look around instead, taking it all in. It’s a lot and there’s so many people here, here just for this. 

Tiger then starts to introduce King Kobra’s opponent, his voice changes and it’s tinged with an antagonising disgust, he’s clearly trying to rile the audience up into booing, and not rooting for whoever it is. You can’t help but feel your curiosity grow at that. It feels childlike how it’s said, but you see the audience respond just as Tiger wishes. The opponent is Monkey Man, he quickly comes out and makes his way into the ring. He moves quickly and he bounces on his feet for a moment as he gets further into the zone. He stands there, waiting for the noise to confirm it’s the start, the start of a fight where he can maybe get one or two punches in before he has to keel over for his pay. Pay that he’ll probably have to bargain for. 

He stands in the ring and he can’t help but spend a second focusing on the face he sees in the front row. Kid is sure he hasn’t seen that face here before, it’s a pretty face, but he can’t help but notice the anxiety pooled in those eyes or your body language. He tilts his head slightly, it doesn’t seem to be the kind of anxiety some of the gamblers here have before the match, the ones who are risking it all for an expensive thrill and painful rush, to live vicariously through him and the other men adorned in animal masks and names. 

Kid turns his head away from you and tries to focus back on his work. You don’t even notice that the man in the ring has been staring at you, taking you and your nerves in for a few, long but oh so short seconds.. How could you? With that mask? You can’t see his face, but you can see there’s a lanky figure standing there, hiding under the mask and donning the monkey man mantle. He’s tall and slender but you can see there’s some muscle on his arms, from what you can see of the sweat and blood-stained undershirt he wears, his chest is toned as well. 

You don’t know it yet, but you can feel something realign, change in this moment. You’re just not sure what it is, or if this feeling is even real, or if it’s just another symptom of somatic anxiety. Right now, you think it’s probably just that. 

After almost another minute of the crowd booing Monkey Man and chanting out for the King Kobra, the match begins. Each of the men takes a moment to size the other one up, watching the other’s moves before the first hit lands. It’s King Kobra, he strikes Monkey Man. 

King Kobra goes to throw another punch, he moves quickly and he’s very agile, yet Monkey Man somehow dodges this one. His landing with the dodge isn’t perfect, but it gets him out of the way. He throws a punch to King Kobra and the crowd erupts into boos at that. It’s even more louder and clearer than before who they’re all rooting for and aren’t. The crowd’s response seems to motivate King Kobra as he quickly moves and starts to deliver blow after blow. 

You barely feel the noise of the crowd’s screams of joy and cheers as this happens and King Kobra gets his footing back. Your eyes widen as you watch, you see blood starting to fall as Monkey Man loses his way in this match. 

You let out a gasp as he falls to the ground. King Kobra slithers around the ring, posing and feeding off of the crowd’s response before he goes in for the kill shot. He delivers it and you feel yourself slightly jump. It’s terrifying to you, you don’t see the appeal in this, you can only start to mentally list off all of the physical trauma this causes. You sigh as you watch King Kobra be declared the winner of this match, it sounds like a recurring event, you gaze over at your brother who looks ahead with a large smile of awe, obviously happy with whatever return he’s getting on the bets he’d made beforehand

Monkey Man slowly tries to limp his way out of the ring and backstage, you look at your brother and quickly whisper that you need to check on this man. You have to, it’s basically a moral and ethical obligation. Your brother sighs and nods, you quickly move off of the bench and it doesn’t take much for you to catch up to this masked man. “How are you feeling? I’m a nurse.” You say to him and he nods slowly, you can hear his ragged pants from under the mask, the mask is drenched in sweat along with the rest of his body.

As you slowly walk backstage with him to the locker room that’s pungent with the sweat of costumed men masquerading as animals and characters you’d find in The Ramayana. There’s blood stains visible throughout the floors and walls, and you can taste the copper of the crimson in the air, impossibly so. You don’t know how but you can. You ignore these other bodies floating in your periphery as you walk to a sink with the Monkey Man, he leads the way, naturally. 

As you approach the sink together he immediately puts his hands on the edge and spits out a thick string of blood, you’re used to seeing blood but in this context, you can’t help but feel your nose screw up a little. It’s awful.

He tilts his head to look up at you, your eyes meet him and you offer him a small smile and give him your name. He looks at you, taking in the way that your lips curl up and how they do so genuinely. He gives a small nod, one you’d have missed if you’d blinked just a few seconds earlier. He just tells you that his nickname is Kid. Maybe he’s been fighting since he was very young. You don’t ask. Not yet. 

You turn the faucet on at the sink, to try and wash his blood away so that you can start trying to clean the damage of tonight’s fight, off of him. 

“What are you doing here?” He asks, he knows you’re not the type of person to come to these events. You’re not a regular and it’s clear from your face, you’re not a fan of these displays of violence. 

“My brother. It’s his birthday this weekend.” You say quietly as you wipe the blood off. “Have you broken your nose?” He looks up at you with a small smile, it makes sense. Your brother was probably the man beside you, he thinks. Kid can’t quite remember his face. He then shrugs at your question. His nose doesn’t feel too bad right now, but he knows he’s probably broken it at some stage. 

“You’re not sure?” You ask him, he shakes his head. You immediately notice how quiet he is, but despite his silence, his eyes are so reactive and expressive that you feel like you know more than what his words could give you.

“Do you have issues breathing? It doesn’t look bad, there’s just a small scar there. They often heal pretty well on their own.” You say as if to reassure him, even though you know that it probably isn’t something that would bother him. There wouldn’t be much he could do now anyway about that. You don’t like that thought. 

Kid stays there perfectly still as your stomach is now over its nausea and your hand touches his skin so gently as you try to offer him some kindness, some respect, some dignity, some simple compassion and care. His eyes soften as he realises that and looks up at you. There’s a glow from within you, even in the artificial lighting of the locker room and it’s easy for him to block out the chaos in here and focus on your gentleness. 

He’s barely ever touched, except for when a blow hits in a match, it’s never this gently. He doesn’t even know how to show himself that level of care when he bandages himself up at the end of each night that he fights. 

There’s not much of a conversation as you bandage him up but somehow, you don’t really notice it and it’s completely okay with you. There’s a comfort in his quietness, his stillness. It’s one he finds in you as well, perfectly requited. You put a hand on his arm gently as you just finished putting a bandage on him. He takes your hand slowly, and he examines it. You’ve never had someone look at your hair, analysing every hair on your knuckles and by your wrist. It’s a unique way to be seen. He then takes your hand and gently turns it over, taking his time as he does. Kid looks at your palm, at all the lines on it and his eyes follow and travel amongst every single last one. A million lifetimes. A million dreams. He runs his finger along them, just to confirm as he thinks about the roots of your skin, how they run along to the softness and travel over calluses. “That’s your future.” He says softly as he looks at your hand, running his fingers along the lines. He then looks up at you, and his big, beautiful brown eyes meet your orbs. “It’s your past, everything.” You’re not sure what it is that he sees. You’d like to know but you also think you’d be content living without that and just his opinion on everything else in the world. But still, you want to see with his eyes.His fingers stop running over your palm and you feel your cheeks heat up at the intensity of this, his eyes have softened and there’s something else there. Something you don’t quite know. Is it longing? You’re not sure. You feel a deep, soul-aching longing, he does as well and always has. You just haven’t arrived at the stop yet for that to be communicated with words. Now all there is just looks, longing looks from a man with the most beautiful big, brown eyes in the world. You could melt in them, swim in them, drown in them. All of the above and you’d never complain.

You don’t know who makes the first move first, it just feels natural, like gravity. Some kind of natural force that slowly pulls your lips together that you both know is right. His hand gently cups your cheek as you feel his lips. They’re slightly chapped but you don’t mind. The kiss is soft and delicate and you like it. You need it and so does he. Everything feels so natural right now. Perhaps this is something he saw in the palm of your hand. You don’t know what it is yet, but you’re certain that this mask-wearing monkey man is part of that future he just talked about.

[everythingne]

marketing ploy — LN4 / ch. 1

Everyone can see the growing tensions between Red Bull and McLaren as Lando gears up to be the next best driver under Max. The publicity of it all causes a slight issue… the people want more drama. They need more drama.

So, McLaren and Red Bull make a deal—a plan to get them both the publicity (and some extra cash).

The plan?

Olivia Piastri (yes, Piastri), the head analyst of Red Bull, has to pretend to date her brother’s teammate. And she can’t tell anyone—not even Oscar, it’s not a real relationship.

piastri!oc x lando norris

warnings/notes: sort of financial abuse, manipulation from higher authorities, fake dating AND brothers best friend trope (guys let me cook!!)

prev | next

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05 MARCH 2023 -- INSTAGRAM.

OLIVIAPIASTRI MADE A NEW POST ↴

liked by landonorris, oscarpiastri, redbullracing, and 689k more…

oliviapiastri: never a dull day here in RB. so glad to have gotten to celebrate three podiums!! shout out to max, nori, and ossi here in bahrain!! 🧡❤️

bakerpiastri: the siblings ever 🧡

papayababy: so are we gonna talk ab her calling lando NORI??

⤷ rb.fancams: NO FR??

verstaphin: ok but since when has olivia posted so much mclaren??

oscarpiastri: oh so i can't see the film photos but u can post them?

⤷ oliviapiastri: this is what u get for biting me while drunk.

landonorris: thanks oli 🧡

lando.wc: olivia posting the prettiest photo of lando ever is so...

⤷ piastrycounter: NO FR??? what if. like.

⤷ lando.wc: @.piastrycountry our brainwaves are connected.

addiees: LANDOS COMMENT?

22 FEBRUARY 2023 - SAKHIR, BAHRAIN.

“Piastri incoming!”

Stepping into Christian’s office in my tall white heels, I give him a fist bump at his soft shake of the head and his laugh. It’s extremely weird to have been called to his office at this time, but the man had been serious when we’d spoken about it earlier. I'm still wearing the dress I'd worn to dinner with Oscar and our parents, a little orange sundress my mother had bought me when Oscar first signed with McLaren, paired with a little white sweater and my heels. A loose gold dangle earring catches on a curl, and my bracelets and rings clink as I raise my hand to slip the perfectly done curl off the earring before it ruins it.

"Thank you again, Miss Piastri, for coming on such a short notice." Christian says as I look into the room and my head tilts up slightly as I take in the room in front of me. Three men in different stages of formal dress with their backs to me, a man I don't know sits on one side of the desk with Alice, Red Bull's Chief Communications Officer. And a third woman sits on the other side of the desk with my brothers manager. As I speak, they all turn around, and I notice its both Zak and Andrea from McLaren, and...

"Sorry, am I interrupting something?" I ask, staring down none other than Oscar's current best friend, Lando Norris.

Now, I didn't quite... like Lando Norris. It wasn't that he was an asshole or anything, in fact, he was quite polite. And I didn't not like him either. I just didn't really know him. When you only really see a guy in work mode, asleep, hungover when your brother lets him spend the night after they party, or drunk off his ass at a club. Well. It's kinda hard to genuinely like spending time with him. But, he and Oscar got on better than a house of fire, so ultimately I had learned overtime to just deal with his antics. It was usually fun to watch, and I was usually too busy with Red Bull work to even be paying attention.

"Not at all, actually we were waiting for you to get started." Christian places a hand on my shoulder and smiles, motioning for the chair next to Lando that--conveniently, had been left open. I pop down next to him and offer him a soft smile which he returns. Ah yes, civility. I can work with the bare minimum, it's the usual amount of respect I get here.

"My Mom had to get a picture of Oscar and I in the new paddocks here, thats what took so long." I laugh, settling down in the seat and looking over at the women I dont know, offering them soft smiles as I turn back to Christian, "Sorry if I was a bit late."

"Right on time, actually," Christian nods, "As punctual as usual."

"Lets get right to business, we need Lando to be in top shape for tomorrows race. Can't keep him out too late." Zak easily jokes, bringing the attention of the room to him. Christian laughs softly, taking a seat at his desk and flicking open his laptop. The confusion radiating off of me slowly melts into curiosity, leaning back in my chair as well as I plop my little orange Coach purse on my lap.

"Ah, it's all too much for little Lando Norris, right?" I ask, kicking Lando's chair and he crosses his arms as he looks over at me--eyes meeting mine with a bit of playful anger.

"Little Lando Norris?" He pouts and I kick his chair again with a shrug, making him start laughing as he leans back and swats at my foot. His nails scratch along my ankle and I shiver from the feeling, pulling my ankle to the side of my leg.

"Well, this might work better than expected." Andrea comments with a soft grin on his lips, "they already get along well, and have some sort of chemistry."

"Huh?"

"What?"

Lando and I both turn to look at Andrea, then we both turn our attention to Zak and then Christian in order. The three men laugh along to Andrea, nodding in agreement as the two women jot down some notes, the third woman by Lando huffing with a soft smile on her lips. I point to Ada Luanne, my brothers manager and speak softly.

"Wait, so why are we here?" I finally ask and Christian looks to Zak, holding a hand out for the man to explain. He does, standing as he motions around the room, introducing everyone to each other, thankfully.

There's me and Lando settled in two leather chairs that uncomfortably stuck to my thighs. Christian sat his desk with Zak and Andrea standing between him and Lando and my chairs. Alice, Red Bull's Chief Communications Officer sits next to Steve Atkins, who is McLarens Chief Communications Officer. Then, on the other side of the desk is a woman named Astrid Marina, who is Lando's manager, and then my brothers manager Ada Luanne who is here to represent me.

"And, we are all here for the two of you." Zak nods, and Lando sends me a sharp look that says nothing but 'what the hell did you do?' which I counter with my best 'I didn't do shit, what did you do?' look.

"You see, tensions between Red Bull and McLaren's racing teams are at an all time high due to how close Lando has been racing with Max." Zak continues after a moment, "and the fans have been eating up the rivalry. It's truly been one of the most intense spikes in merch sales and social media trends we've seen in years on both sides. And, Miss Piastri, that is where you come into the picture."

"Okay? What does this have to do with me, if you don't mind my asking?" I lean forward slightly, eyes glancing up at Zak, then to Andrea, then Christian, then back to Zak's smug smile.

"We need to keep the rivalry alive between us and Red Bull, yeah? And, over the past few weeks when you've been on radio with Max, the fans have noticed the two of you seem to be quite close. And considering you are Oscar's sister..." Zak waves a hand as he comes to take one of mine, squeezing it as he leans down to be my eye level, "we have quite an opportunity."

"I'm not following." I glance to Lando, who sends me a helpless shrug of confusion.

"Well, Miss Piastri." Christian taps his desk and Zak moves to sit down again. I watch as both Alice and Steven whisper to each other as the Astrid and Ada nod to Christian, and he speaks words I never thought I'd hear.

"To keep up with publicity, we would like for you and Lando to pretend to date. Just for a season or two."

I can't even bring words to my mouth. The room feels so crowded, multiple sets of eyes watching me as I sputter to try and come up with some sort of answer. Luckily, Lando does that for me.

"I'm sorry?" He spits, a sort of anger in his tone, "what are you on about?"

"Olivia, you will start to spend more time with McLaren." Alice starts to explain, and everyone looks to her, "post more McLaren, wear more McLaren, start to cause a stir. Once we see that stir, we will take photos of you wearing Lando's number and post those. This should start a dating rumor through Australia to Miami."

My jaw is open, completely catching flies at the moment.

"Once the rumor really starts, you will both do a 'soft launch' of the other--basically, faceless photos. You'll be caught by paparazzi on a date, you'll be seen together in the paddocks, and such. We'll bring this rumor up and up until about midway through the season when, during a pole position celebration, Lando will go to you for a celebratory kiss--which will cement your relationship." Alice continues, and then Steven takes over,

"We'll run the relationship probably through next season, maybe a little longer, and then you'll both have a peaceful split off and remain friends. No harm done."

I stare blankly, finally closing my jaw to take a slow breath to calm my racing heart. I look to Lando, who looks equally as shocked if not more shocked than I am about this.

"You're reading me a film script, not the next twenty months of my life." I snap, standing up, and Lando follows my lead as I point to Christian, "I'm an engineer, not some--actress you can throw around for publicity points!"

"Olivia, please." Christian stands, holding a hand out like you would to a scared dog, "it's something temporary, and it's no strings attached! There's a pretty big... financial bonus as well."

"You both will get twenty-five percent of all revenue make off this stunt. Depending on how well you sell this... that could triple or even times both of your salaries by ten." Alice crosses her arms, "and, the deal will be kept to people in this office. Only we will know why this is being done. To everyone else, even Oscar and Max, this relationship is genuine."

There's a long pause, and part of me feels trapped. The amount of money I could make for putting up with a guy I already put up with his obviously extremely appealing. I make a good chunk of change already, but just doubling that would make me set for a while. I could finally start spending my money the way I wanted to.

Hell, I could pay off all my student loans at once with that absolute chunk of change.

"Fuck it." Lando says under his breath, so low only I hear the slight scratch of his voice as he sighs and then looks up at Christian, "where do I sign?"

"Norris?!" I shout as my disbelief hits an alltime high, He had made that decision easily. Lando's right hands takes a pen from Christian's left one as he turns back to me, running a hand through his frizzy curls.

"We fake date for a year, and then we go off and do whatever we want after with a large paycheck for something no one knows is fake. How is this a bad deal, Olivia? I already spend almost every weekend with you and Oscar anyway, it'll hardly be different." He says, and a paper is pushed his way, he looks back at me once more in that loose, half buttoned white tee and black dress shorts. His necklaces dangle off his neck as he scribbles down his name without any hesitance, clicking the pen shut and holding it out to me.

"Plus, if we're pretending to be a real couple, you'll be losing out on nothing because I will be buying you pretty much everything for the next twelve months."

Fuck. That's a good point. I could kinda manipulate this to benefit me if all goes to shit. The black pen taunts me, and the way he grins and wiggles it in the air towards my hesitantly lifting hand is no different.

Yeah, so much for being shy, Lando.

"Is there a way out of this after I sign?" I ask and Christian nods. Relief I didn't know I needed floods my body immediately after and I feel like a man in a confessional being absolved of his sins. Complete and utter relief.

"If you want to leave, talk with me, and I'll sort it out." He says, "it's really no strings attached."

So, there was a way to back out. Easily too. Christian had taken me under his wing with Red Bull when I was quite young. The man was basically my second father by now, so I could tell him anything, and knowing that all I had to do was ask him if I wanted to leave?

It felt a lot less heavy to look at the pen now. But I find my gaze drifts upwards and I look at Lando. That tiny gap in his front teeth, the freckle that rests on his cheek right by his nose, the way his eyes crinkle as his smile widens.

Oh, I'm so fucked when Oscar finds out I'm 'dating' Lando.

I groan, snatching the pen from his hand and leaning down to also sign the contract as I mutter.

"You're lucky I'm a money hungry bitch."

And, we begin.

[musicforastylesrestaurant]

When The Clock Strikes Midnight.

my masterlist || ask me anything <3

authors note - hi, my last post of the year, i just want to wish everyone reading this a very happy new year and that everything turns out alright, tpwk and stay safe!!

this is a pretty angsty piece i would say, as it covers topics of alcoholism where reader struggles with her alcohol, so please if this sort of thing triggers you in anyway, please do not read and if you do, please proceed with caution.

word count - 3.9k

in which, you and harry broke up just over a year ago, and have not seen each other since, but when your friend invites you to a new years eve party with all your close ones there, the last person you expected to see walk through the door was him.

The last place you saw yourself tonight was here.

Your best friend Maura had practically dragged you out of the confines of your apartment when she heard that you didn’t have any plans for New Year’s Eve, and insisted that you dress up and come along to the party her boyfriend Watson was throwing.

You tried to deny her nagging and told her that you were going to order a takeaway, most likely Chinese and facetime your mum like you did last year, and that would be that.

But no…she wasn’t having any of it.

So you chucked on a jumper, which was on the nicer side and paired it with a skirt and tights and your vans before applying a tiny bit of mascara and lipgloss and brushing your hair, before you were ushered out of the house into the Uber Maura had ordered whilst you were getting ready.

So now, here you were.

You find yourself in a corner of Watson's living room at the party, nursing a glass of coke as people swirl around you in a lively dance of laughter and chatter. The pulsating music fills the room, but you, lost in your own thoughts, wonder why you agreed to come in the first place.

Maura's insistence was hard to resist, but your reluctance lingers like a shadow.

Despite the energetic atmosphere, you're content to sip your non-alcoholic beverage and observe the whirlwind of festivities. Maura and Watson seem immersed in the revelry, blissfully unaware of your desire for a more tranquil evening.

The room's vibrant energy contrasts sharply with your subdued mood, as you contemplate the impending arrival of the new year with a sense of detachment.

Watson, with a hint of tipsiness in his step, ambles over to you in the corner of the living room. His usual laid-back demeanour shines through, but the warmth in his eyes intensifies as he wraps an arm around your shoulder.

"Hey, you made it!" he exclaims, a wide grin on his face. Despite the slight wobble in his stance, you can't help but smile in response to his infectious enthusiasm.

Leaning in, Watson expresses genuine happiness that you decided to join the celebration.

"I'm so glad you're here, buddy. No one should spend New Year's Eve alone, right?" He punctuates his words with a friendly squeeze, and the camaraderie between you two, forged over the past six months since he began dating Maura, feels more like family than friendship.

In his slightly inebriated state, Watson plants a gentle kiss on the side of your head, a gesture that reflects the bond that has developed between you.

"You're like a little sister to me, you know that?" he chuckles, his words carrying a warmth that transcends the alcohol-induced haze. It's a testament to the solid foundation of your relationship, built on trust and camaraderie.

With a playful twinkle in his eyes, Watson decides it's time to shake off any lingering reservations you might have.

"Come on, let's hit the dance floor!" he declares, tugging you toward the centre of the room. The music's rhythm wraps around you both as Watson, with his signature charm, spins you into the lively dance.

Laughter and cheers surround you, and in this moment, you can't help but appreciate the unexpected joy that Watson has injected into your reluctant New Year's Eve.

As you sway to the music, Watson continues to share anecdotes and jokes, making the dance floor an extension of the bond you've formed. His boisterous laughter and the genuine joy in his expression erode any lingering doubts you had about attending. In the midst of the revelry, you realise that Watson's presence has transformed the night from an obligation into a shared celebration.

With each step and twirl, Watson's camaraderie becomes a comforting presence, and you find yourself immersed in the moment.

As you engage in conversation with Watson on the crowded dance floor, the doorbell unexpectedly rings, interrupting the lively atmosphere. Watson glances towards the entrance, a perplexed expression momentarily crossing his face.

"I'll be right back, just need to see who's at the door," he informs you, detaching from the dance momentarily.

Curiosity piqued, you nod and watch as Watson weaves through the festive crowd towards the entrance. The door swings open, and to your shock, your ex-boyfriend Harry steps into Watson's house.

They exchange greetings, and you can't help but wonder how they're connected. Watson glances your way, and you sense that he must have divulged your presence to Harry.

The room felt suffocating as you sat on Harry's sofa, the atmosphere heavy with unspoken tension. The air crackled with an impending storm, and you could sense that something was about to shatter the fragile peace that had held your relationship together.

Harry's eyes, once filled with warmth and adoration, now held a distant sadness. His fingers nervously played with the edge of his shirt, betraying the turmoil within.

"We need t’talk," he finally uttered, the weight of those words settling in the room like a leaden silence.

You looked at him, anxiety clawing at your chest.

"What's going on, H?" you asked, your voice barely above a whisper.

He took a deep breath, his gaze dropping to the floor before meeting yours again.

"I've been thinking a lot, and... I think we need t’take a break," he confessed, each word hanging in the air like an unspoken truth.

The room seemed to tilt, the weight of those words crashing into you.

"A break? What do you mean?" Your voice wavered, a sense of dread settling in the pit of your stomach.

Harry's eyes welled with tears as he struggled to articulate the pain that lingered in his heart. "I can't give y’what y’deserve. M’career, the constant traveling , I can't be the best boyfriend f’you. Y’deserve someone who can be there f’you, not someone who's always halfway across the world."

More like you can’t give him what he deserves, your a mess, A drunken mess who can’t be trusted around a glass of wine or a gin and tonic.

It was your fault that he had had enough of the relationship, he was sick of looking after a girlfriend who couldn’t even look after herself, you weren’t what he wanted anymore and who could blame him?

You didn’t even want yourself anymore.

Your eyes mirrored the pain in his, tears streaming down your cheeks.

"But I don't want someone else. I want you," you pleaded, your heart breaking with every passing second.

He reached out, fingers gently wiping away your tears, a tender ache etched across his features.

"M’know, and s’why this hurts so damn much. I love you, but I can't watch y’waiting f’me all the time, feeling lonely. Y’deserve more than that."

The room echoed with the silence of shattered dreams as you both sat there, wrapped in the agony of an impending separation.

"I thought we could make it work," you whispered, your voice barely audible amidst the heartache.

Harry's voice trembled as he spoke, his eyes mirroring the anguish in your own. "I thought so too, but I can't keep asking you t’wait f’a future that's uncertain. It's not fair t’you."

The weight of the impending break weighed on you both, and the room became a crucible of emotions.

"I can't believe this is happening," you uttered, your voice catching on a sob.

Harry pulled you into an embrace, holding you close as if trying to memorize the feel of your presence.

"I never wanted to hurt you," he whispered, the words a fragile admission of the pain etched across his heart.

As the room witnessed the unraveling of your shared dreams, the tears flowed freely, and the echoes of a love that once burned bright now flickered in the dimming light of heartbreak. The sofa, witness to your shared laughter and whispered confessions, now bore the weight of an anguished goodbye.

"I thought we were stronger than this," you choked out, your words a desperate plea for reassurance.

Harry's response was a strained whisper, heavy with regret. "Love isn't always enough, and that's the hardest part to accept."

Your heart skips a beat as Harry's eyes sweep the room, eventually locking onto you. The unexpected encounter catches you off guard, and you feel a lump forming in your throat. Unsure of how to react, you instinctively turn I’m away, making a hasty retreat to the kitchen.

you navigate through the crowded kitchen, the echoes of the past still haunting the recesses of your mind. The room, once a sanctuary, now pulsates with the vibrant energy of the New Year's Eve celebration. As you lean against the counter, you attempt to catch your breath, the atmosphere thick with the weight of unexpected emotions.

The room is a sea of faces, laughter, and clinking glasses, but in this moment, you feel a profound sense of isolation. The air is heavy with the unspoken tension that lingers after encountering Harry, and you find solace in the rhythmic pattern of your own breaths. Each inhale and exhale becomes a deliberate act, a quiet rebellion against the memories that threatened to resurface.

Your eyes inadvertently gravitate towards a bottle of vodka on the crowded kitchen counter, a silent temptation beckoning from its transparent confines. The memories of your past struggles with alcohol loom heavily, each incident etched into your consciousness like a haunting refrain. The room pulses with celebratory energy, yet the familiar lure of numbing the pain through a drink threatens to unravel your hard-fought sobriety.

The bottle stands as a silent witness to the battles you've waged, a tangible reminder of the coping mechanism you once clung to in moments of despair. The urge to drown the resurgence of emotions triggered by seeing Harry again intensifies, as if the vodka holds the promise of temporary relief from the tumult within. However, the echo of past hospital visits, the panicked calls from Maura during Harry's tours, and the aftermath of your own struggles remind you of the high cost that accompanies each sip.

The sterile hospital room bore witness to your feigned slumber as Harry and the doctor engaged in a conversation that would forever echo in your memory. Their voices, a discordant symphony of concern, cut through the antiseptic atmosphere.

"You need to understand the gravity of the situation, Mr. Styles. Her liver is under immense strain," the doctor explained, the weight of the diagnosis evident in their tone. "Excessive alcohol intake has brought her here before, and if it continues, we risk irreversible damage."

Harry's voice, tinged with a mixture of fear and frustration, joined the conversation. "What can we do t’make her stop? This can't be good f’her, and I can't bear to see her like this again."

The doctor, ever composed, responded with a professional calm. "Encouraging her to seek professional help is crucial. She needs intervention and support to address the root causes behind her drinking patterns. This goes beyond just a medical issue."

Your heart sank as you lay there, eavesdropping on the conversation that underscored the depth of your struggle.

"She's in a dangerous cycle, and we need to break it before it leads to irreversible consequences," the doctor continued, the gravity of their words sinking in.

Harry, struggling to comprehend the severity of the situation, pressed for guidance. "What should I say t’her? How can I help her understand the impact of her actions?"

The doctor's response held a note of empathy. "Express your concern without judgment. Encourage her to seek counseling or join support groups. It's crucial that she feels supported and understood during this process."

As the dialogue unfolded, you grappled with a mix of emotions – shame, guilt, and the daunting realization that your actions were not only affecting you but those who cared about you.

The familiar pull of an old coping mechanism clashes with the resolve you've built over the past year. Without much thought, you lift the bottle, contemplating the relief it promises, only to freeze as a voice interrupts your inner struggle.

"Don't you dare take a sip from that bottle."

The words, stern and commanding, cut through the haze of your thoughts. You recognize the voice instantly, and a mixture of surprise and apprehension washes over you. Slowly, you turn around to face him, the bottle held in your hand like a delicate secret.

Harry stands there, his expression a mixture of concern and determination.

"You've come too far t’let this be y’undoing," he states, his gaze unwavering. The air between you hangs heavy with unspoken emotions as you contemplate his unexpected intervention.

Resisting the urge to avoid his gaze, you decide to walk past him, hoping to escape the confrontation. However, his hand closes around your wrist, preventing your departure.

"Let it go," he implores, his eyes searching yours for a hint of understanding. The bottle dangles between you, a tangible symbol of the inner turmoil that threatens to resurface.

In the charged silence, Harry's grip on your wrist feels both restraining and grounding.

"Y’don't need this, and y’know it," he adds, his voice softening. The vulnerability in his eyes mirrors the complex history you share, the wounds of the past laid bare in this unexpected moment of confrontation.

Glancing at the clock, you note the relentless ticking, each second stretching out like an eternity. Twenty minutes until midnight, and the anticipation of a fresh start intensifies. The atmosphere feels stifling as you wrestle with conflicting emotions, your hand still in Harry's grip. The unspoken tension lingers, and you decide that the arrival of the new year will also signal your exit.

Jerking your hand away from Harry's hold, you feel a surge of frustration bubbling beneath the surface.

"I can't do this anymore," you mutter, the anguished words hanging in the air between you. The clock's relentless countdown amplifies the urgency of the moment.

Turning to face him, you meet Harry's gaze with a steely resolve.

"I'm not a child. I can do what I want," you assert, the words carrying a weight that transcends the immediate situation. The bitterness in your voice mirrors the tumultuous emotions churning within.

Harry's expression shifts from concern to a mix of frustration and helplessness.

"This isn't about control, it's about caring," he argues, the lines of his forehead creasing with worry. The room feels smaller, the air thick with the unresolved tension of the past.

"I don't need your care," you snap, your tone cutting through the charged atmosphere. The proximity of midnight becomes both a countdown to liberation and a reminder of the constraints that linger. The resentment that simmers beneath your words reflects a deeper struggle against the shadows of a shared history.

You walk out of the kitchen, the bottle still in your hand, its cold surface a stark reminder of the internal struggle you've been wrestling with. Glancing down at it, you contemplate the temptation it holds. However, a determined sigh escapes your lips as you decide against taking that path. In search of solace, you spot Maura near the bathroom, engrossed in conversation with a friend.

As she notices you approaching, Maura ushers you over with a warm smile. The vodka bottle clinks softly, drawing her attention.

"You didn't, did you?" she asks, her eyes widening with concern. You hand her the bottle, and she gasps when she realizes its weight.

"I almost did," you admit, the honesty heavy in your words. "Seeing Harry after a year... it's just really hard, and I thought I needed something to take the edge off."

Maura's expression shifts from shock to a compassionate understanding. She places a comforting hand on your shoulder, leading you away from the commotion.

"You don't need to have a drink to feel something, darling," she reassures, her voice a soothing balm. "Facing those emotions is tough, but numbing them won't make them disappear. You're stronger than you think."

The weight of her words resonates, and you find a sense of grounding in Maura's wisdom.

"I just... I didn't expect it to hit me this hard," you confess, the vulnerability of the moment laid bare.

Maura nods, her empathy evident. "Love has a way of lingering, especially when there's history. It's okay to feel, even if it's painful. You've come so far, and I know you can navigate this without resorting to old habits."

As the clock ticks closer to midnight, Maura's words serve as a reminder that facing the emotions head-on is a strength, not a weakness.

The night air in the back garden carries a crisp chill, providing a respite from the crowded and charged atmosphere indoors. With just five minutes until midnight, you find solace in the quietude of the outdoors. The rustling of leaves and the distant hum of laughter create a backdrop for contemplation as you seek to contain the swirl of thoughts within.

The faint glow of string lights casts a gentle illumination, revealing a mosaic of emotions etched on your face. The weight of the past, the encounter with Harry, and the echoes of previous struggles converge in this moment of reflection. The cool breeze becomes a metaphorical breath, allowing you to exhale the complexities that have unfolded throughout the night.

Despite the passage of time, you find that lingering feelings persist, stubbornly anchored in the recesses of your emotions. The garden, illuminated by the soft glow of string lights, becomes a backdrop for a bittersweet revelation – you still carry a flame for him.

However, self-awareness prevails, and you acknowledge the undeniable truth that echoes in the quiet of the night. The person you once were, entwined with Harry in a different chapter of your lives, no longer aligns with the person he seeks now. The journey of growth and self-discovery has shaped you both in divergent ways, leading to an understanding that the path forward must be traversed separately.

With a deep breath, you accept the inevitability of change and recognize that clinging to what once was will only hinder your individual paths.

A subtle clearing of the throat interrupts your contemplation in the garden, prompting you to turn. To your surprise, Harry stands there with two glasses of lemonade, his expression softening as he offers them to you.

"Been looking f’you," he says, a hint of concern in his voice.

You accept the lemonade with a nod, appreciating the gesture even as the complexity of emotions lingers in the air.

"Just needed some fresh air," you reply, your gaze momentarily dropping to the glass in your hands.

Harry takes a seat on the concrete step next to you, the night air carrying a blend of both familiarity and unspoken tension.

"Mind if I join you?" he asks, and you find yourself hesitating before reluctantly nodding. The silence that follows is palpable, laden with the echoes of a shared history.

"I never thought I'd see you again after everything," Harry admits, his eyes fixed on the distant horizon. You sense a vulnerability in his tone, a shared acknowledgment of the complexities that led to your parting.

"Yeah, life takes unexpected turns," you respond, tracing the rim of your glass with your fingertips. The garden, once a haven for solitary reflection, transforms into an arena for the unspoken exchange between two people navigating the remnants of a connection.

Harry's gaze meets yours, and a soft smile plays on his lips. "I've missed this, y’know? Just talking like we used to."

The sentiment catches you off guard, and you muster a small smile in return. "Things change, Harry. We change."

Harry's admission hangs heavy in the air as he confesses,

"I've missed y’a lot. Every night before bed, you're all I think about." The vulnerability in his voice is evident, the weight of unspoken longing underscoring his words.

You take a moment, the weight of his confession settling in the quiet of the garden. With a sigh, you respond, "It was the right decision to take a break. I was a mess, and I wasn't what you wanted."

However, before you can elaborate, Harry interrupts, a furrow forming on his brow. "No, s’not why. I never once thought about breaking up with y’because of y’drinking problems. It was the constant leaving, the distance. I felt like I couldn't be the partner y’eeded."

His words catch you off guard, a mix of surprise and realization washing over you. The clarity in his confession adds a layer of complexity to the narrative you had constructed in your mind.

"I thought... I thought it was because of me," you admit, the vulnerability echoing in your own voice.

Harry reaches for your hand, a gesture that conveys both comfort and sincerity. "It wasn't about you. It was about me feeling like I couldn't be the best partner f’you. I should've communicated that better."

The garden, witness to the intimate exchange, becomes a space for newfound understanding. The dialogue unfolds, untangling the threads of misperception and unveiling the intricacies of the emotions that lingered beneath the surface. As the clock approaches midnight, the shared revelations become a poignant marker in the journey toward healing and clarity.

His thumb gently traces circles on the back of your hand as he continues, "I regret asking for that break. I didn't realize how much it would affect me, being without you. I've spent every night wondering if I made the right decision."

You meet his gaze, a mix of compassion and acceptance in your eyes. "H, it was the right decision for both of us. I was a mess back then, and I couldn't have given you what you needed. It wasn't just about the drinking; it was about me figuring myself out."

Hearing you call him by the familiar nickname of ‘H’ has his heart twitching beneath his rib cage, oh how he’s missed you calling him that.

He squeezes your hand, a silent acknowledgment of your words. "But not once did I think about ending things because of y’struggles. It was the constant coming and going, the uncertainty. I felt like I was leaving y’alone too often, and it wasn't fair t’you."

As the conversation deepens, the layers of misunderstanding peel away, revealing the raw authenticity beneath.

"I never wanted you t’feel like y’couldn't be yourself," Harry admits, a sincerity coloring his tone. "I should've communicated better, been more honest about how I was feeling."

It isn’t long before the people crowded inside the house start counting down from ten, only second away from being embraced by 2024.

“10…”

“9…”

Harry leans in close, his words a hushed confession, "I still love you."

“8…”

“7…”

Caught off guard, you turn to look at him, the sincerity in his eyes echoing the sentiments you thought were buried in the past. you find your voice, whispering amidst the cacophony, "I love you too."

“6…”

“5…”

The counting continues, a rhythmic backdrop to the shared revelation hanging in the air. In a moment of vulnerability, Harry's gaze lingers on yours.

“4…”

“3…”

And that’s when he musters up enough courage to ask for the first time in a year. "Can I kiss you?"

“2…”

“1…”

As the countdown approaches its climax, the world outside the window erupts in cheers.

In the final seconds, the clock striking midnight, Harry softly presses his lips against yours, a tender exchange that marks the inception of a new year and a rekindled connection, forged amidst the symphony of shared confessions and the promise of a fresh start.

And this all happened when the clock struck midnight.

[mechaknight-98]

Undaunted (NSFW) ft Sejeong

Author’s note: when I started this piece it was meant to be a fun romp but because Mr. Riordan has tied so much of being a half-blood to being neuro divergent a lot of old wounds invariably brought up and I had a lot to say… more so than usual. So bear with me on this one it’s a long one. 13 k words or so.

I always thought that isolation suited me more than unity or coalitions, believing I could handle anything alone. I've never been more glad to be proven wrong.

Sejeong and I were recent acquaintances. I had been working as a videographer for her entertainment company for four weeks now, spending hours on photo shoots, behind-the-scenes videos, and assisting with music videos and audition tapes. She was bubbly and energetic, a bit much for my taste, but she didn't push me too hard, so I continued working with her. I respected her dedication to her craft—whether acting, modeling, brand ambassadorship or singing—as she always strived to embody each role with utmost dedication. It was inspiring.

At the end of an early day's shoot, she approached me for the first time with genuine interest. Aware that my stern demeanor often kept others at bay, Sejeong boldly asked, "You're Val, right?" I nodded slowly, skepticism palpable. Sejeong smiled warmly and said, "Great, you're coming for coffee with me after this."

Her determined look made it clear that refusal wasn't an option. Before agreeing, I needed to understand her motives.

"Sure, but on one condition," I replied. "You tell me why."

Sejeong tilted her head, maintaining her innocent smile. "Because, silly, we've been working together for months, and I don't even know your name," she said matter-of-factly.

I narrowed my eyes; Sejeong mirrored me, realizing her oversight.

"I barely know yours either," she retorted. "Plus, what if there's an emergency and you need to be found? I think they'll need more information than tall stocky African American man,” Sejeong expanded

Her response eased my skepticism. I followed her to a nearby coffee shop where she remained bubbly and smiling throughout—concerning traits in my experience. People like that were either hiding immense pain or were super evil. As we ordered, she insisted on paying.

"I'm sorry, I just have bad luck when I don't pay for meals," she explained.

I shrugged, "It's no big deal. Plus, this isn't a meal. I got a hot chocolate, and you got coffee."

Sejeong relaxed at my logic. As we sat down, she steepled her hands and asked, "So, tell me about yourself."

This was the first time I took a good look at her, and she was stunning. Despite being a couple of years older, she exuded an aura of ease that made me feel oddly comfortable like I could drop my guard. So, I acquiesced to her prodding.

"Just a normal guy from Cali, I guess. Mom, Dad, and two sisters."

"Oh, are you the oldest, youngest, or middle child?" she inquired.

"I'm in the middle," I responded.

"Cool. I'm the youngest," Sejeong shared. I nodded, surprising her.

"Wait, you know?" she asked, puzzled.

"I did my research before joining the company. Plus, I'm a casual K-pop fan, and you're considered royalty," I explained. Sejeong smiled.

"So, are you a fan of mine too?" she teased.

I shrugged, "I like your acting, but your music isn't my thing."

Realizing too late that I should have been more tactful, I tried to clarify, "Not that it's bad objectively; it's just not my taste."

This only seemed to make it worse, and Sejeong began to pout. "So, you hate my music?" she asked, hurt.

As the situation escalated, I searched for a way to salvage it. Thankfully, a blonde angel came to my rescue.

"Unnie, leave this poor guy alone. Can't you see he's flustered?" Somi intervened as she approached our table. Beside her was a young man in our age range named Ivan. Sejeong turned to Somi, smiling.

"Ah, Somi, can't I have a little fun?" she teased, hugging her friend. Ivan and Somi joined us, and the atmosphere shifted from a business introduction to a casual hangout among friends. Feeling out of place, I listened as Ivan, Somi, and Sejeong chatted and bantered like old friends.

As they talked, a server brought over a plate of food "on the house." While they were engrossed in their conversation, I managed to sneak a few bites, hoping to leave some for them. After ten minutes of rapid Korean dialogue, I excused myself to the restroom. Inside, I splashed water on my face, trying to clear my head.

"When you go back out there, you're going to tell them, 'Hey, something came up, and I have to head home,'" I rehearsed aloud. I failed to notice other occupants in the restroom, but I did hear the telltale rattling of a hydra's tail. Turning back, I found a Lernaean Hydra staring at me.

We locked eyes, and I tried to defuse the situation. "Hey, let's not fight. We can casually cross paths and not kill each other," I proposed, but the hydra lunged at me anyway. I dodged its attack and summoned the "Pyretic Claws of the Storm Beast," slashing at the hydra’s heads until I managed to defeat it. The hydra attempted to regenerate from burning stumps until it finally exploded with a loud "pop," leaving me covered in its guts and slime.

Behind where the hydra stood, Sejeong, Ivan, and Somi stared at me with intrigue.

"You're a demigod, like us," Sejeong declared.

Over the next few days, Sejeong insisted on introducing me to her other demigod friends. These meet-ups usually came with a free meal, so I reluctantly accepted. The friends included two more couples: Levi and Heejin, and Gahyeon and Preston. Levi and Preston were friends of Ivan. I tried to keep my distance both emotionally and physically, but Sejeong always pushed me back into the center. Her reasoning was always along the lines that demigods shouldn’t be alone. Rationally, it made sense; I just didn’t like it. My dad had intentionally raised me away from all of this when my mother left, so I was conflicted. After meeting everyone, we started doing group hangs, the first of which was today.

When we reached the outside of Somi and Ivan’s apartment, I stood frozen. Sejeong noticed and smiled at me.

“Everything alright, Vally?” she asked. I remained silent, prompting her to furrow her brows.

“What’s wrong?” she asked.

“I don’t like this, but I can’t place why. Everything about crossing this threshold makes my skin crawl and makes me want to smash something,” I responded.

Sejeong listened and then asked, “Weren’t you raised around demigods?”

I shook my head. I had met others before but never more than a handful of times. Sejeong’s eyes widened as she listened, prompting her to ask, “Wait, so you’ve survived all this time with no training and no support? Do you even know your godly parent?”

I resisted the urge to scoff. My situation was unique, despite being normal for me, so scoffing at her served no purpose.

“Yes, Seji. My mother claimed me before I went to college and gave me the ‘Claws of the Storm Beast.’ She told me, ‘You’re on your own. I can’t protect you anymore,’” I explained.

Sejeong looked befuddled before asking, “Who the hell is your mom? That sounds terrible.”

I thought about lying but realized it would serve no purpose, so I told the complicated and strange truth. “My mom is Zeus. Long story short, Hera thought a good punishment for his sins would be to live as a woman for a few years. During one of those years, Zeus met my dad, who was separated from his wife, the lady I refer to as my mom, and they had me. She dropped me off with my dad and came back occasionally to chat with him until he reconciled with his wife.”

I watched as Sejeong’s brain broke hearing that. I didn’t blame her; the same thing happened to me when I first heard it.

When she recovered, she asked, “How have you been surviving all this time without being trained? And what is the ‘Fangs of the Storm Dragon’ you mentioned?”

Her response seemed odd to me, but I humored her. “I learned to fight from TV, specifically wrestling and action hero shows. The ‘fangs of the Storm Dragon’ is my weapon, given to me by my mom. It was designed and crafted by my mom with elements from each major betrayer god.”

Sejeong nodded and said, “We are getting you trained as soon as possible.”

I raised an eyebrow, confused as to why Sejeong didn’t respond further, which frustrated me. I had told her all this stuff about me, yet I still didn’t have much information about her. Before she could open the door, I asked about her godly parent and how she survived. She was so taken aback by my story that she was super open about hers.

“My dad is Loki. He claimed me when I was young, but I was already training with other demigods at that point,” she answered.

I nodded at the foreign concepts and feigned understanding of what that was like, yet I remained frozen still.

Sejeong smiled then said, “Tell you what Vally if you come with me right now I'll let you be alone all next week.” I know her words were meant to comfort but they brought a sense of unease within me as I found myself saying,

“No! I like spending time with you…I have grown accustomed to you being around.” I said the rational part of my mind says she still has the potential to be a highly dangerous individual but my emotions presented an intense dichotomy.

Sejeong smiled at me and then said, “If you wanted to date me you could have asked.” she smiled as she watched me short-circuit for a few seconds before opening the door and leading me inside my hand in hers.

The atmosphere in the room is jovial, with friends hanging out and goofing off. It is oddly charming. Sejeong leads me to a spot next to her as we huddle around a hot pot. I take out the Kobe beef and other various meats I brought, along with some veggies and a couple of sushi rolls for palate diversity.

Ivan, Somi’s boyfriend and son of Bacchus, says merrily, “You brought all this for us? Dude, you are the best.”

A smile creeps onto my face. “Well, yeah. Someone has to make sure you don’t poison us with alcohol.”

Sejeong turns to me and cracks a smile. “Oh, was that a joke I heard? I thought Mr. Serious didn’t understand jokes.”

I look at her and reply, “Well, maybe you just aren’t funny?”

Somi, daughter of Aphrodite, laughs, putting me further at ease. Heejin, the daughter of Tsukuyomi laughs too, and stares at me. Not in a particularly menacing or emotionally charged way, but in a very observant way, as if she is trying to figure me out.

Eventually, she asks the question I think she’s been wanting to. “So, Val, who is your godly parent?” The room grows silent. Feeding on the excitement and atmosphere, I reply, “Take a guess.”

Sejeong laughs before telling them that they would never guess it, even with a million hints. I agree but give them the first one.

“She is not who you think it would be.”

Sejeong compliments my hint, saying how good it was as the group begins to guess.

“Morrigan. You kinda radiate her energy as a scary powerhouse,” Levi, son of Tyr says.

I shake my head.

Gahyeon, daughter of Daji, says, “Hmm, well then, my guess is Izanami.”

I shake my head again, surprising everyone. I see Preston, son of Minerva, eyeing me intently.

“It’s your mom, correct?” he asks.

I nod.

“What pantheon?”

“Greek,” I respond.

Preston eyes me, then says, “Huh, you seem way too powerful to be just the son of a Greek goddess. We thought you were stronger than that. Based on how you carry yourself and the static always around you, I’d say Zeus, but that can’t be right.”

At this point, Sejeong loses it. She begins laughing uncontrollably and smiling, making everyone present look at her. Then it clicks.

“Your mom is Zeus,” Somi says. She pauses, then adds, “Yes, we love a girl boss.”

I turn to Sejeong, confused, but she is all smiles.

“How?” Heejin asks, baffled.

“Well, I—” I begin to answer, but time seems to slow down until the air stops. I look around to see everything frozen.

“So, you finally found a home?” an older, feminine voice rang out, instantly recognizable. My fists clenched and my jaw tightened, mirroring the way she used to stand when preparing for a confrontation.

I turned to face my mother. She looked older than the last time I saw her, but still undeniably her: dark skin like mine, long dark brown hair streaked with white, and those piercing gray eyes. Her stance was identical to mine, a stance of readiness and defiance. Everything I hated about myself reflected in me.

“How have you been, DuVal?” she asked, her tone calm yet fierce. It was a voice I had often used to mask my vulnerabilities. I stared in silence, feeling a storm of emotions rise within me. Her gaze held a mix of emotions—bottled rage, the same rage I saw in myself, always simmering just beneath the surface.

“I see you’ve found a home.” Her words were careful, layered with meaning. I kept my guard up, watching her eyes flick from me to Somi, then Heejin, and finally to Sejeong. When her gaze returned to me, it was with a knowing look.

“This one, she’s the one you like,” my mother said confidently.

My fists tightened, my eyes never leaving hers. “Why are you here, Zeus? To remind me of all the times you weren’t?”

She sighed, a mixture of sadness and frustration in her expression. “I know I haven’t been the mother you needed. My actions—or lack of them—have caused you pain. But I’ve always watched over you, DuVal. Always.”

“Watching from a distance isn’t the same as being there,” I retorted, my voice rising. “You left me to fend for myself, to figure out who I am and what I’m supposed to do. And now you just show up, expecting what? Gratitude?”

Her eyes softened. “What was I to do? Beg your father not to break you despite being adamant about making you like everyone else? I don't beg. I told him the ramifications of pursuing ‘rearing for your special needs,’ but he didn't listen. No matter how many teachers and mentors I sent your way, dropping hints about embracing your heritage, he ignored me. Only your mother listened.”

I tensed. “I didn’t agree with my dad on a lot of things, but I believe he did his best.”

“He didn’t know what I was or what it would cost,” I added.

“You believe that? Then why would he root you so deeply in his faith despite having met me and our chats? Why only mention me when he kicked you out? Has he ever apologized for that? If this is about abandonment, he’s as guilty as I am. No, this goes deeper. You hate me because I remind you of all your failed attempts to be normal, despite knowing you’re not. Well, let me be the bigger person and say, ‘I’m sorry I burdened you with such gifts.’”

“Do you expect me to be grateful for this condescending apology?”

“I don’t expect gratitude. I know I don’t deserve it. But you need to understand the weight of your heritage. There are threats on the horizon, and your power is needed.”

I shook my head, the storm inside me brewing. “I’m nothing like you. I don’t want to be.”

“You don’t believe that. I see it in your heart and your eyes. Your appetites are like mine. We share the drive to lead, and to have power. You just refuse yourself. Why not let yourself run wild and let experience temper you? It will be the only way you will learn control.”

Her words brought a splitting headache as my rage and emotions threatened to spill out. Zeus looked to Sejeong and said, “Have you even kissed her yet? Or are you fighting your attraction to her as well?”

Her words were scathing. I thought of a clever comeback, but she was always quicker. “I mean, she is your type—cute face, bubbly personality, sizable assets, and older than you. Why haven’t you made a move?” she prodded.

“Shut up,” I said.

“If you just let yourself be free, you wouldn’t stumble over your words like that.” She bemoaned, “Stop holding back,” she demanded.

She stepped closer, her presence both comforting and overwhelming. “You are more like me than you realize. The strength, the rage, the desire to protect those you care about. It’s all there, DuVal. Embrace it.”

I shook my head defiantly. “Oh really? So you expect me to believe your heart doesn’t ache that she’s not yours. Maybe I should take her.” I broke for a moment, I admit she was pressing all my buttons.

“Touch her and I’ll rip your throat out. She’s mine!” I growled, and my mother was all smiles.

“See how good that felt? I could feel the conviction, the passion, the courage in your words there. Surely it felt good to tell me off, to stake your claim, didn’t it?”

I stood straight and readjusted my posture, and my mother groaned.

The room seemed to pulse with her words, the static in the air intensifying. I glanced at Sejeong, her frozen smile a stark reminder of what was at stake. Could I turn my back on this part of myself?

“I don’t need your help,” I said, though the conviction in my voice wavered.

“Perhaps not,” she replied softly. “But you need to know the truth. The path you’re on is fraught with danger, and you can’t face it alone. Think about it, DuVal. Think about who you want to be.”

I clenched my fists, feeling the energy crackle around me. “I want to be someone different. Someone better.”

“You can be better, DuVal. Better than me. But not by denying who you are. Our power, our drive, it’s a part of us. Channel it, control it, and it will make you stronger. You’ve always had the potential to surpass me, but you have to stop fighting yourself.”

She reached out, placing a hand on my shoulder. The touch was electric, a jolt that sent shivers down my spine. “Embrace the storm within you. Use it to protect those you love. Don’t let fear hold you back.”

I looked into her eyes, seeing a reflection of my struggle. The same determination, the same intensity. “I don’t want to be like you, but I can’t deny what I am.”

“Then don’t deny it. Use it. Be the leader you’re meant to be, not the one you think you should be. Lead with your heart and your passion. It’s not a weakness, it’s your greatest strength.”

I took a deep breath, the storm inside me calming slightly. “I’ll think about it.”

“That’s all I ask,” she said, her voice softening. “Just remember, you’re not alone in this. You have people who care about you, and who will stand by you. Don’t push them away.”

As she stepped back, I felt a strange sense of relief and a flicker of hope. Maybe I could find a way to balance the storm within me, to use my power for something good. But it would take time, and I wasn’t sure if I was ready to fully embrace that part of myself.

“Think about it, DuVal. Think about who you want to be,” she repeated, her eyes locking with mine one last time before she turned and walked away.

I stood there, the static in the air slowly dissipating, and looked at Sejeong. She gave me a reassuring smile,

With that, time resumed. The room filled with laughter and conversation once more, but my mind was a whirlwind of confusion and unresolved emotions. Noticing my change in temperament, Sejeong squeezed my hand, grounding me in the moment. I had a lot to consider, and even more to decide. So I did the thing I knew best.

“I have to go. I just remembered I had something to do,” I said to everyone. Sejeong stood up in front of me as I tried to leave.

“DuVal, what happened? You were cracking jokes and having fun, and now you have to leave. What gives?” The rest of the group surrounded me. Their faces showed concern, but I couldn't tell if it was genuine or not. I tried to get around Sejeong, not realizing at the time that the children of Loki could shapeshift. One moment I was trying to politely get around her, the next I was facing a polar bear. At that moment, I would have rather dealt with Sejeong.

I began to suppress my surging fight response but was failing, as evidenced by the manifestation of "Abyssal Claws of the Storm Beast" in my hands. Realizing her tactics weren’t working, Sejeong did the smartest thing: she shifted back to her normal form and brought me down to her level, hugging me. My heart stilled as the storm inside me began to fade. She tilted my face up from her chest and, with a wicked smile, said, “Feeling better? Or do you need more time cuddling with Samantha and Rachel?” All the tension and emotional turmoil I was processing disappeared at that moment. I stood up and smiled at her. She smiled back before guiding me back to the party.

A few days later, we wrapped filming for a major project, and Sejeong took me back to her place. She booted up her PS5 and started playing FF7 Rebirth. I watched her play but didn’t try to backseat game her. I smiled as she triumphed over a particularly grueling boss in the middle of the game. She looked over to me with a smile, but the fatigue was getting to both of us. I felt my eyes droop and my head fall. The last thing I remembered was her saying, “Omomo.”

I dreamed I was overlooking a vast expanse of sky, the scene cautiously calming. I turned to see my mom. She was smiling, but her presence stirred the emotions I had been burying deep inside. My eye twitched involuntarily.

“Why do you hate yourself so much?” Zeus asked, her voice gentle yet piercing.

“What?” I responded, taken aback.

“You wallow in self-loathing. It’s concerning, yet you hide it well. Why?”

“I don’t understand,” I said, feeling a lump form in my throat.

“Every time we talk, I can see into you, just as you can see into me. I see your hatred of yourself for not being like others, for feeling destined for destruction rather than creation. You wish you could tear yourself apart every day, but you can’t because your body won’t let you. You repress the ferocious, fervent, royal side of you because you’re ashamed of it. Shame others taught you. You are a king. Why do you let them diminish you?”

“That’s a very out-of-touch way to view people,” I retorted, but Zeus wasn’t swayed.

“You and I both know these people don’t want to lead themselves. They want a wise and tested leader to guide them, to make the hard choices so they can live freely and safely. So what are they if not peasants?”

Her words hit me harder than I expected. I wasn’t ready for this confrontation.

“Oh, you weren’t expecting your mother to challenge you like this, were you? Well, buckle up. This is just the beginning. You endure these miserable and intolerable creatures who engage with you as if they’re your equals and bear their injustices, yet wonder why they don’t accept you. No matter how much you defang and claw yourself, the truth remains: you aren’t like them. They know it and will continue to remind you of that fact. So why bother with them?”

“Because a true leader…” I began, but Zeus cut me off.

“A true leader leads ahead of the pack, where it is the loneliest. Stop acting like one of them. You’re better than them. You and that girl are better than this. You should be running the world together. That much is certain.”

“Why are you telling me this?” I asked, frustration boiling over.

“Because you crave validation from sources that can’t give you the praise you seek. These people are not your peers, no matter how much you want them to be. So stand proud and ferocious. Let your rage and power out. Stop holding back because others can’t see your intentions. Let your desires guide you, not your mind. Your mind will only blind you, telling you who you need to be to survive, not who you are meant to be to thrive.”

I sat there, feeling competing desires rise within me, a storm of emotions I’d been trying to suppress.

“Don’t shame yourself for what you want. Want it, Chase it, but don't meander with the sheep it will only weaken you.”

I stared at my mother, her words slicing through the barriers I had meticulously built around my heart. The storm within me raged, conflicting desires crashing like thunder and lightning. I felt the familiar pull of shame, but also a strange, burgeoning sense of clarity.

“Mom, it’s not that simple,” I said, my voice barely a whisper. “I can’t just embrace this…this side of me. It’s dangerous. It’s destructive.”

Zeus’ expression softened, but her eyes remained fierce. “Dangerous? Destructive? DuVal, you are my son. You carry the tempest within you, but you also hold the power to control it. You are not just a force of destruction; you are a beacon of potential, of leadership, of hope.”

I shook my head, the weight of her expectations pressing down on me. “You don’t understand. I don’t want to be a monster. I don’t want to hurt people.”

“And you won’t,” she replied firmly. “You have the heart of a protector. But denying your true nature only weakens you, and makes you vulnerable. You need to find balance, to harness your power without letting it consume you.”

I took a deep breath, feeling the air crackle with the tension of my emotions. “How? How do I do that?”

Zeus stepped closer, her presence overwhelming yet comforting. “By accepting who you are, all of who you are. You are both human and divine. Embrace your heritage, not as a burden, but as a gift. Let those you care about see the real you, not the mask you wear to hide your fears.”

I felt a tear slip down my cheek, mingling with the faint sparks of static. “But what if they reject me? What if they can’t handle it?”

She gently wiped the tear away, her touch warm and grounding. “True friends, true allies, will stand by you, no matter what. And those who don’t? They were never meant to be part of your journey.”

I closed my eyes, letting her words sink in. The storm within me began to calm, not because it was gone, but because I was starting to accept it as a part of me. “I’ll try, Mom. I’ll try to be who I’m meant to be.”

Zeus smiled a rare, genuine smile that filled me with a sense of hope. “That’s all I ask. Remember, you are not alone in this. We are connected, you and I. And there is strength in that connection.”

As her image began to fade, I felt a renewed sense of purpose. The dream dissolved, and I woke up in Sejeong’s apartment. The early morning light filtered through the curtains, casting a gentle glow over the room.

Sejeong was still asleep, her face serene. I watched her for a moment, feeling a surge of affection and gratitude. She had seen a glimpse of my true self and hadn’t turned away. Maybe, just maybe, I could learn to embrace all parts of myself and find the balance I so desperately needed.

Carefully, I slipped out of bed and made my way to the window. (unsure how I got there from the couch) The sky was clear, a soft blue expanse stretching out before me. For the first time in a long while, I felt a spark of hope, a flicker of possibility. I didn’t have all the answers, but I had a direction, and a path to follow.

The decision to be honest with those who mattered most felt like a heavy weight lifting from my shoulders. I returned to Sejeong, lying peacefully in her sleep. Despite her serene appearance, she began to shuffle uncomfortably, her hand reaching out as if searching for something. On instinct, I took her hand, and the frown that had creased her face melted back into her typical smile.

I stayed with her like that for a while, watching her breathe and feeling the warmth of her hand in mine. When she finally woke, her eyes met mine with a clarity that took my breath away.

“Sejeong,” I said softly, my heart pounding.

“Yeah, Val?” she responded, her voice still thick with sleep.

“I like you,” I confessed, the words tumbling out with a mix of anxiety and relief.

Sejeong’s lips curved into a playful smile. “Well, are you going to do something about it?”

Without hesitating, I cupped her cheeks in my hands and kissed her. Her lips tasted faintly of the spicy ramen we’d shared earlier, a perfect mix of heat and comfort. As our kiss deepened, my mind began to blank out, and all I could focus on was the insatiable desire coursing through me.

Her hands moved to my shoulders, pulling me closer. The intensity of the moment seemed to charge the air around us. Static electricity crackled, making the tiny hairs on my arms stand on end. Sejeong’s touch was grounding, pulling me back even as my emotions threatened to overwhelm me.

When we finally pulled apart, her eyes were bright, a mix of amusement and something deeper. “That’s more like it,” she teased, her fingers tracing the lines of my jaw.

I smiled, feeling lighter than I had in days. “There’s so much I need to tell you, Sejeong. About my mother, about what’s coming. But right now, I just wanted you to know how I feel.”

She nodded, her expression turning serious. “We’ll face whatever comes together, Val. But you don’t have to carry everything on your own. I’m here with you, every step of the way.”

Her words settled something inside me, a reassurance that I wasn’t alone. We stayed like that, wrapped in each other’s arms, as the world outside continued to turn. For the first time in a long time, I felt like I was exactly where I was supposed to be. Sejeong smiles, but right now I think I need a bit more of your affection.

Sejeong’s eyes narrow as she brings me in for another kiss.

“Don’t think,” she said and my brain cleared of all thoughts the only thing that remained was lust and affection for her in the moment. She gave me a sexy and sultry look that made me want to see how far I could bury my dick into any of her holes. She goes in for another kiss then says, “Come on Val bare your fangs . Hunt! Let it all just this once,” she said instead of fighting my instincts and urges I run with them I tear into Sejeong’s hoodie and eventually we stand naked in front of each other.

I marvel at her bush. Which causes her to be uncharacteristically shy. When she tries to hide though I spread her legs open and plunge my dick inside of her pussy. Sejeong moans as I spear her, her eyes look up to mine and she smiles, “take me,” she implores me. I begin to thrust gently in and out of her. Hoping to find a tempo she likes. I emphasized slow and deep strokes as she seemed to like when I touched her womb. Her pussy envelops me with the most pleasant feeling of tightness that I can’t help but continue pleasing her. I watch as she comes undone from the pressure and she reaches her peak.

She moans and then looks up at me with a wild look in her eyes before pushing me to be under her. She begins to bounce on my rod with the fury of ten suns.

“Yes, Yes, fuck yes,” she moans as I feel her walls tighten to milk me for all I’m worth. The longer I last the more ferocious she becomes and eventually I lose to her and she has me cum all over her tits. She smiles before taking a long lurid lick and saying, “Delicious,”

The next day, I woke up in a muddled haze that cleared slightly when I saw Sejeong sleeping comfortably beside me. She looked serene, and I smiled, realizing just how much I loved her. That intense feeling was one of the many things my father had said we shared: the capacity to feel deeply.

As if sensing my thoughts, Sejeong turned to me with a bright smile. "Morning, handsome," she said. Her bright eyes looked into mine, and she leaned in to kiss me. I followed her lead, savoring the moment. "Okay, time to get up," she said.

"Okay," I responded. We got ready, and I made her coffee just the way she liked it. We watched the sunrise from a bench near Sejeong's apartment, and as the dawn broke, I felt a familiar presence.

I turned to see my mother approaching slowly but with intent. When she came into view, she appraised Sejeong and me. Sejeong looked at Zeus, then at me, and said, "I see the resemblance. That steely gaze, the commanding aura. You must be Zeus, although last time we met, you looked a little different."

Zeus looked at Sejeong, confused. "Daughter of Loki? How so?"

Sejeong laughed. "Oh, so that way of speaking is genetic. Well, Queen of the Skies, you had less of this," she pointed to her chest, "and you had something between your legs."

My mom looked up, and Sejeong laughed again. "Wow, Val got a lot from you," Sejeong chuckled. I turned to her, and she explained, "When you recollect Zeus, you look away as your mind goes over the memory."

I laughed. "Are you enjoying this?"

"Oh yes. I love seeing my boyfriend puzzled. He just has the cutest focused face."

"Boyfriend?"

"You're surprised? You've been at my beck and call for the past few weeks, and we've gone on three dates. We are boyfriend and girlfriend," Sejeong asserted. I gave a worried look.

"Am I that readable?"

"Not at first glance, but after seeing your heart and all your quirks, I've thumbed through your book a few times."

I groaned, making Sejeong laugh. "Come on, Vally, just accept it."

When she said that, Zeus chuckled. "You remind me of Val's father with that."

I turned to her, on guard. Sejeong noticed and squeezed my hand to calm me down.

"What do you mean?" Sejeong asked for me.

"Well, the playful teasing and compassion, for starters. But this makes me realize, Val," Zeus chuckled, her eyes twinkling with amusement and pride. "You know, our taste in partners is remarkably similar. I see so much of what I admire in Sejeong. She's strong, yet kind. Fiercely independent but deeply loyal. Just like your father."

I clenched my fist, my mom's praise for my father hitting a nerve. Despite my best efforts, I couldn't hold back. "If he was so great, then why did you leave him and me?" The sky darkened lightly at my comment. Zeus's intense glare bore into my eyes, but I didn't back down.

Zeus sighed, sitting down next to us. "It's complicated, Val. Your father and I... we had different paths, different destinies."

Sejeong, sensing the importance of the conversation, moved closer, her hand finding mine for support. Zeus noticed the gesture and smiled faintly.

"Your father was a good man, Val. Strong, principled, but also... mortal. Our worlds were too different. As a god, I have responsibilities and burdens he could never fully understand or share. And I could never be the partner he needed because of those obligations."

I frowned, trying to piece together the fragments of my childhood memories. "But you loved him, right? Why wasn't that enough?"

Zeus nodded, her eyes softening with a hint of sadness. "Love is powerful, but it's not always enough to bridge such vast differences. Our relationship put him in danger and exposed him to things no mortal should endure. And as much as I loved him, I couldn't let my presence continue to put him at risk. It wasn't fair to him, or you."

My jaw tightened, but I didn't interrupt. Sejeong squeezed my hand gently, offering silent support.

"I had to make a choice," Zeus continued, her voice heavy with the weight of her words. "I chose to protect him by leaving, hoping it would allow him to live a safer, more stable life. It was one of the hardest decisions I've ever made, but I believed it was the right one."

"Much like you with that Ishtar priestess. Speaking of, how did the curse turn out?" Zeus asked.

"It's been removed, thanks," I responded coldly. Zeus laughed.

"Good," she said with a smile. Sejeong, who had been listening quietly, finally spoke up. "It's clear that your father loved you both, Val. But sometimes, love means making sacrifices for the greater good, even if it hurts."

I turned to Sejeong, her words resonating deeply. Then I looked back at Zeus, a sense of resolution beginning to form. "I understand now. It doesn't make it any less painful, but I get why you did what you did."

Zeus reached out, placing a hand on my shoulder. "Thank you, Val. And remember, even though I had to leave, I never stopped caring about you. I never stopped watching over you."

“So, this is the famous Sejeong,” Zeus said, her voice carrying that familiar mix of calm and intensity. Sejeong looked up, her eyes widening slightly at the sight of Zeus. I could see her assessing my mother, taking in the same dark skin, the long brown hair streaked with white, and those piercing gray eyes that seemed to see right through you.

“Yes, and you must be Zeus,” Sejeong replied, her voice steady but her eyes flickering with curiosity and something akin to recognition.

Zeus smiled, a small, knowing smile that sent a chill down my spine. “It’s a pleasure to finally meet the woman who’s managed to capture my son’s heart.”

Sejeong glanced at me, then back at Zeus. “The pleasure is mine. I’ve heard… a lot about you.”

“I’m sure you have,” Zeus said, her gaze shifting to me. “DuVal has always been quite the storyteller.”

I could see Sejeong studying us both, her eyes darting between Zeus and me. She had a keen eye for detail, and I knew she was picking up on the similarities—the way we both stood with a certain tension, the way our eyes could pierce through someone’s defenses, the way our voices carried a similar weight.

“You two move the same way,” Sejeong observed, her tone curious. “It’s like watching a reflection.”

Zeus chuckled softly. “Well, he is my son. Some things are bound to be inherited.”

Sejeong nodded, but her eyes narrowed slightly as she continued to watch us. “But there are differences too. Val is… softer, I think. More willing to show his vulnerabilities.”

Zeus’s smile faded slightly. “Is that so? I always thought strength came from hiding one’s weaknesses.”

Sejeong shook her head. “No, I believe true strength comes from embracing them. From being honest about who you are.”

Zeus looked at Sejeong with a new level of respect. “You’re wise beyond your years, Sejeong. Perhaps you’re the influence DuVal needs.”

Sejeong smiled a warm and genuine smile that seemed to light up the porch. “Maybe we’re what each other needs.”

I felt a swell of pride at Sejeong’s words, but also a pang of something else—fear, perhaps, that she would see too much of Zeus in me.

Zeus stepped closer, her eyes fixed on Sejeong. “Tell me, Sejeong, what do you see when you look at DuVal?”

Sejeong didn’t hesitate. “I see someone who’s struggled, who’s faced immense challenges, but who’s still kind and caring. Someone who’s trying to find his place in the world.”

Zeus nodded slowly. “And do you see the same in me?”

Sejeong paused, her eyes thoughtful. “I see someone who’s powerful, but who’s perhaps forgotten what it’s like to be vulnerable. Someone who’s built walls to protect themselves.”

Zeus’s gaze softened for a moment, a rare display of vulnerability. “You’re very perceptive, Sejeong. DuVal is lucky to have you.”

Sejeong smiled again. “And he’s lucky to have you, too. Even if he doesn’t always see it that way.”

I looked at Zeus, seeing a flicker of something in her eyes—pride, maybe, or a hint of the love she rarely showed. It was a fleeting moment, but it was enough to give me hope.

Zeus smiled faintly, her gaze lingering on Sejeong. “You have your father’s eyes, but your mother’s spirit.”

Sejeong tilted her head slightly, a question in her eyes. “You knew my father?”

“Oh yes,” Zeus chuckled softly, “I’ve known Loki for eons. He’s quite the trickster, your father. Always up to some mischief or another.”

Sejeong raised an eyebrow, a hint of amusement playing on her lips. “And how do I compare?”

Zeus studied Sejeong for a moment, her gaze thoughtful. “You are different from Loki in many ways. He revels in chaos and thrives on unpredictability. You, on the other hand, bring a sense of stability and clarity.”

Sejeong nodded thoughtfully. “I suppose I inherited my mother’s influence. She valued honesty and integrity above all else.”

“That balance serves you well,” Zeus noted, a hint of approval in her voice. “Loki may be a master of illusions, but you see through them. That’s a rare gift.”

Sejeong smiled warmly, a genuine expression that softened the tension between them. “Thank you. I try to use it wisely.”

Zeus nodded, her gaze shifting to me. “And DuVal? How does Sejeong influence you?”

I glanced at Sejeong, feeling a swell of pride and admiration. “She… grounds me. She sees through my walls and challenges me to be better.”

Zeus’s eyes softened, a hint of maternal pride flickering across her features. “You’ve chosen well, DuVal.”

Sejeong looked between us, sensing the unspoken history and emotions. “There’s a lot you two share,” she remarked softly. “But there are also differences.”

“Yes,” Zeus agreed, her gaze returning to Sejeong. “You are a blend of both worlds, Sejeong. Your father’s mischief tempered by your mother’s wisdom. It’s a potent combination.”

Sejeong smiled gratefully, acknowledging the complexity of her heritage. “I’ve learned to embrace both sides. It’s what makes me who I am.”

Zeus nodded and got up. she turned to us and asked, "So what's next for you two love birds?"

"I am taking my feral boyfriend to Camp Half-blood to hopefully make him less feral,"

"Good luck He's worse than Heracles in that regard."

"it will be fine."

True to her word, four days later I was flying back to the States with Sejeong to help with counseling at the camp. The camp had grown tenfold, now housing a myriad of pantheons and incorporating their various practices and traditions. We arrived a few days early, along with the rest of our half-blood friends.

On the taxi ride from the airport to camp, Levi leaned over and warned me, “So, um, we might have spilled the beans about you coming with us, and, uh... well, the Huntresses are coming because Thalia wants to meet her ‘little brother.’ I know you aren’t comfortable with the spotlight, so I figured you should know.”

Sejeong groaned. “I told you all not to tell anyone. I wanted only Chiron to know to avoid the circus.”

“To be fair, we told everyone he was coming before you told us not to,” Somi pointed out.

“I told you all not to do it in the same call,” Sejeong said, exasperated.

“Yes, but it was 5 minutes, 54 seconds, and 32 microseconds later. I had already told my entire cabin by that point,” Heejin replied.

Sejeong rolled her eyes, annoyed at her friends' lack of restraint.

When we got to camp, I noticed an immediate change in my attitude, posture, and temperament. I felt an overwhelming hostility. Sejeong picked up on this and squeezed my hand, hoping to calm me. Instead, it only intensified the rising desire I had for her. I managed to squeak out, “Seji I don’t like this place it gives me weird vibes.,” Sejeong nodded and then said

“It will be okay Vally we’ll get through this one day at a time.” As we enter the camp there is a huge crowd waiting for us. I can feel the gazes and hushed whispers as we pass through. The first to approach us was a dark-haired green-eyed young man a little older than me, and a blonde-haired girl with piercing gray eyes who walked with him.

“Hi, I’m Percy Jackson,” the dark-haired man said, “this is Annabeth Chase.” Sejeong walks over to Percy and Annabeth to give them a big hug. Percy and Annabeth happily received the hug before saying to Sejeong, “Long time no see,” Sejeong nodded before mentioning how she had become quite famous. Percy and Annabeth seemed proud and pleased by this. They looked behind Sejeong where I stood,

“You must be Duval,” Annabeth said. I nod and she laughs

“You don’t look much like Zeus,” Percy says bluntly. I chuckled before responding

“Well can’t control that,” I responded Percy and Annabeth laughed before leading me to the Councilor’s cabin. When we get inside they lead me to the room and bed I’ll be in for the next few weeks.

After I set my stuff down I headed outside to hang out with Sejeong. I noticed quite a few of the crowd were still following, which made me more uncomfortable, but Sejeong shooed them away. As we approached the Loki cabin, its unique design became more pronounced. Twisting vines intertwined with intricate carvings of mythical creatures adorned the wooden structure, giving it an air of mystery and whimsy. Sejeong knocked on the door, and we waited for a response. The sounds of laughter and chatter could be heard from within.

The door creaked open, and Asumi stood there with a bright smile. "Sejeong! It's so good to see you!"

Sejeong stepped forward, embracing her half-sister warmly. "Asumi! I've missed you. How have you been?"

Asumi stepped back, her eyes twinkling with excitement. "Come in, come in! We have so much to catch up on."

I followed them into the cabin, feeling slightly out of place but curious. The interior was just as eclectic as the exterior, with colorful tapestries, mismatched furniture, and an assortment of trinkets and oddities scattered about. It was a lively space, reflecting the playful nature of its inhabitants.

Sejeong and Asumi settled onto a worn but comfortable-looking couch, and I hovered nearby, unsure of where to sit. I decided to perch on the edge of a nearby armchair, trying not to intrude too much.

"So, what's the latest gossip?" Sejeong asked, her eyes sparkling with interest.

Asumi leaned in, lowering her voice conspiratorially. "Well, you won't believe what happened last week. Marcus from the Hermes cabin pulled the most epic prank on the Ares campers. He switched all their weapons with rubber replicas. The look on their faces when they tried to practice was priceless!"

Sejeong laughed, her eyes crinkling at the corners. "Classic Marcus. What else?"

Asumi glanced at me briefly, then continued, "And then there’s been talk about the new arrivals. Everyone’s buzzing about a certain son of Zeus who's causing quite a stir."

I felt my cheeks heat up, and I looked down at my hands, pretending to be fascinated by a loose thread on my shirt. Sejeong reached over and gave my hand a reassuring squeeze.

"Yeah, that's DuVal," Sejeong said, glancing at me with a smile. "He's been handling the attention pretty well, all things considered."

Asumi's gaze softened as she looked at me again. "Well, it's not every day we get someone like you here. It's a lot to take in, I bet."

I shrugged, trying to play it cool. "Just trying to find my way, you know?"

Sejeong and Asumi continued their conversation, discussing various camp activities and the latest drama among the campers. I listened attentively, occasionally chiming in when they mentioned someone I had met or an event I had attended. Despite feeling like a bit of an outsider, I found myself enjoying the lively banter and the sense of camaraderie between the sisters.

As the afternoon wore on, more campers filtered in and out of the cabin, each one stopping to say hello and share a laugh. The atmosphere was warm and inviting, and I started to relax, feeling more like part of the group.

At one point, Asumi excused herself to grab some snacks from the kitchen, leaving Sejeong and me alone for a moment. Sejeong leaned closer, her voice low. "Are you okay? I know this is a lot."

I nodded, giving her a reassuring smile. "I'm good. It’s nice to see you with your family. You seem so happy."

Sejeong's eyes softened. "I am. And I want you to feel welcome here too."

Before I could respond, Asumi returned with a tray of cookies and drinks. "Here we go! Help yourselves."

We spent the next hour chatting, munching on cookies, and sipping on lemonade. The initial awkwardness I had felt began to fade, replaced by a growing sense of belonging. Asumi was genuinely kind and welcoming, and I appreciated how she made an effort to include me in their conversation.

Eventually, it was time to head back. As we stood to leave, Asumi gave me a warm hug. "It was great to meet you, DuVal. Don't be a stranger, okay?"

I returned the hug, feeling a bit more at ease. "Thanks, Asumi. I'll be back."

Sejeong and I got ready to leave the cabin, as we were walking back towards the door. She looked up at me, a satisfied smile on her face. "See? That wasn’t so bad, was it?"

I shook my head, smiling. "No, it was nice. Your sister’s great. Thanks for bringing me along."

Sejeong slipped her arm through mine, and as we were about to leave, I heard a familiar voice screech out, "DuVal?"

My face landed directly into my palm as I hoped that the voice wasn't who I thought it was. I turned around to see Cassandra—my ex-girlfriend, daughter of Loki, and Exalted of Ishtar. She looked at me with disdain, but with Sejeong here, she tried to mediate.

"Oh, you know Val?" Sejeong asked Cassandra, surprised.

"Know him? I used to date this motherfucker," Cassandra said lividly.

I shrugged, trying to remain nonchalant, though I could feel the tension in the air.

"Don't you shrug at me like you didn't do anything! We were together for two years, and you left me when it got hard."

I chose my next words extremely carefully so I didn't set her off. "Cassie, we were emotionally abusive to each other, by your admission. You kept pushing me away. I got tired of it and lashed out. I felt bad, I apologized, and do you remember what you said?"

"Don't you dare bring that up! It's not my fault you didn't remember correctly."

"See, you say that, but...you know what? Forget it. I don't care anymore. Let's go back to ignoring each other," I replied.

Cassandra slapped me, and I held my tongue. Fighting the urge to retaliate, I turned to leave the cabin.

"That's it, run away like you always do," was the last thing I heard.

I tried to be the bigger person. Please believe me when I say that.

"I can't believe I cared so deeply for something so pitiful," I muttered, looking at her with a mix of disdain and apathy. It all hit me at once—the hurt, the anger, the realization of how toxic our relationship had been. Sure, we had some good times, but as we got closer, she pushed me further away.

I walked out of the cabin into the afternoon, where it was sprinkling. The gentle rain was oddly soothing as I tried to put as much distance as possible between Cassandra and me. I could hear Sejeong yell something from the cabin, then slam the door before chasing after me. She was visibly shaken by whatever had happened. When she caught up to me, she said, "Tell me what happened. All of it."

So I did. I told her how we met in college, bonded over shared trauma, and how we fell apart after I transferred. I explained how our relationship began to deteriorate, how Cassandra's indecision and emotional turmoil led to every relationship of hers degrading over time, and how every boy she got entangled with ended up hating her. I didn't, though. I felt bad until I just didn't feel anything anymore. The only thing that hurt was the good memories we had, but even those had faded.

I made sure not to paint myself as just the good guy. I was honest about how I was a significant part of the reason it fell apart. I had my faults and failings.

Sejeong looked at me intensely, seeing me for the flawed person I was. She hesitated, then said, "I am going to need some time to process this. Can I talk to you later?"

I nodded, and she gave me a small smile before walking away.

I watched her retreating figure, feeling a mixture of relief and anxiety. The rain had picked up slightly, each drop feeling like a small pinprick against my skin. I walked aimlessly, trying to clear my head.

Eventually, I found myself at the edge of a small grove, the canopy of trees offering some shelter from the rain. I sat on a fallen log, replaying the confrontation with Cassandra over and over in my mind. The bitterness in her voice, the sting of her slap—it all felt too fresh, too raw.

As I sat there, I couldn't help but reflect on the cycles of pain and anger that seemed to define my past relationships. Cassandra was a stark reminder of a time when I was lost, unsure of myself, and reactive. But now, with Sejeong, I wanted something different. I wanted to be better. I skipped Lunch and Dinner as I sat there trying to get back to my calm but I just couldn't do it. while I go over my time with Cassandra I remember Zeus and my dad both saying before I got entangled with her that she was bad news.

Hunger got the best of me, so I headed to the mess hall for dinner. On the way back, I grabbed my cap to hide my face, not wanting to draw any more attention. Once inside, I found a quiet corner away from prying eyes and sat down. Following the rituals of all the other campers, I began to eat, enjoying the rare moment of silence.

That was until someone approached me. I looked up to see a stunning Native American young woman with the coolest green eyes I had ever seen.

"You're a new face," she said politely.

I chuckled and replied, "I guess that's correct. DuVal, but my friends call me Val, and we are friends now."

The young lady smiled. "Val... I like it. The name's Piper." Piper reached out her hand. I took it and shook it. She smiled again before sitting next to me.

"You know, you don't look like a child of Zeus," she observed.

I chuckled. "Well, Zeus was very different when she was my mom."

"Oh, Zeus is your mom. That's wild, but I kind of see it."

"What do you mean?" I asked, genuinely curious.

"Well, I used to date Jason Grace before he died a few years back," Piper said, her face growing somber.

I gulped uneasily until Piper smiled. "Ah, don't worry about it. It's not your fault. You didn't know," she said reassuringly.

I shrugged, and Piper laughed before asking, "Not a big talker, eh?"

I nodded. "Fair enough," she said, looking down at my hands and then back at my face. "Are you okay? Your hands are trembling."

I looked down and noticed she was right. "A little nervous is all," I replied, my voice shaking as I heard the whispers around me.

"It's him. The Orphan. The Child of Zeus. Where's Sejeong? Why is he all alone? Why is he so quiet?" The whispers were quickly silenced when I stood up to leave. As I did, I accidentally bumped into Thalia. The remains of my food spilled all over her, and she looked up at me. When our eyes met, we both recognized each other.

"Oh, you," she said. I held my tongue.

"So, you're the big shot everyone is talking about."

"I am so sorry. I'll get something to clean that right up," I stammered.

Thalia looked at me with a focused expression. "No, it's fine," she said, though it didn't seem like it. "Come on, sit with me and the Huntresses. I want to meet my new 'little brother.'"

My mind raced as I found myself stuck between a rock and a hard place. Reluctantly, I sat down with Thalia. The Huntresses eyed me curiously as I put my hands down by my legs to stop them from shaking.

"So, tell me about yourself. I've only heard bits and pieces," Thalia said.

"Um, I do photography and videography," I replied.

"Oh, okay. And how long have you known you were a half-blood or that there were others like us?"

"Uh... I knew since I graduated high school a few years ago, but I didn't know about this community until deep into the pandemic when I was constantly hounded by monsters," I explained.

Thalia furrowed her brow. "Is everything okay, brother? You seem uncomfortable."

"I... I don't know. I don't belong here," I said, standing up to leave.

"Sit. We aren't done," Thalia said firmly. Her Huntress friends surrounded me, so I sat back down.

"What's wrong? What's got you so shaken?" Thalia asked, her tone softening. Despite her warning, I attempted to excuse myself again. This time, lightning struck in front of me, and the rest of the camp faded away. I turned back to see my mother, Zeus, staring back at me.

“Why are you running?” she asked pointedly.

“My children don’t run away,” she accused.

“Yes, we do. Jason ran from Piper, Thalia ran away from you, and you ran from every responsibility you didn’t want,” I retorted.

Zeus's eyes glared at me, but I wasn’t going to cower.

“I hide and run from everyone because deep down I know no one will truly like me or understand me. That’s the burden of power and knowledge. When you truly have agency and the strength to make wise choices, people resent you. The cowardly judge you and I’m sick of hiding behind a handicap. I’m sick of reducing myself so others can feel at peace.”

Zeus looked at me, surprised. “I never knew you felt that way.”

“Please, I’m your son. I want everything I can grasp and things I can’t, but my father taught me restraint and control. Do you know what it’s like to have the fathomless desire to take anything you want but need the wisdom to know why you can’t? The part of you that’s inside me wants everything under the sky as mine but the human part of me holds me back and I’m sick of fighting myself, but I can’t because the world is too small..”

Zeus looked at me with wide eyes, “so what are you going to do about it?”

“Let the part of you that’s inside of me out and take what I want,” I said.

Zeus' eyes narrowed as she stared into mine and she asked, “What do you want now,”

“To not be bothered,” I said, and as I finished talking the camp faded back into the light and I realized that everyone was staring at me. I figured they must have seen that whole exchange based on their expressions. I roll my eyes and then go to leave when Thalia stops me this time by throwing her javelin. I sigh and then she says,

“Please stay. I just want to talk,” the punk-like edge she had in her voice was gone and was replaced by a genuine feeling of concern. I sigh and say,

“Can we do it elsewhere without so many eyes?” Thalia looks to the rest of her huntresses and they nod so she nods back to me. I nod back and we agree to meet at one of the hills privately after dinner.

I go to our designated meeting area after leaving the mess hall, and wonder why I had that vision with Zeus earlier. She had to have known why I was like this right? I think to myself. A few moments later. Thalia comes from the bushes and smiles at me. I give her a thumbs up and she sits next to me.

“Crazy right?” She says breaking the silence. I nod and say

“Look I’m sorry for my outburst earlier I've just been in a bad headspace since I got here,”

“No, I get it. the scrutiny everyone has with watching you hoping you mess up I completely understand. Jason, Percy, me, and now you all feel it,” Thalia said contemplating.

“I just wish I could create some space where I could be me and not stand out ya know?” I responded somberly. Thalia nodded and eventually responded

“You remind me a lot of Jason. You are more reserved like he was but also I sense a hesitance in your presence that he never walked with. It's interesting,” she said. I smiled as we sat looking up at the stars silently just enjoying the time. Eventually, we go our separate ways and I turn in for the night.

After lunch, I found myself alone. The crowds that had been trailing me since my arrival had finally dispersed, and my friends were all busy catching up with their own family and friends. Thalia wouldn’t be arriving until tonight, so I couldn't meet her just yet. With time on my hands, I decided to explore the camp to get a better feel for it.

My wandering eventually led me to a secluded waterfall area. The serene sound of rushing water was a welcome contrast to the bustling camp. The air was cool and misty, and the sunlight filtered through the trees, casting dappled shadows on the ground. I could sense the presence of others nearby, but no one approached me. I was content with the solitude until a feminine voice broke through the tranquil sound of the waterfall.

“You know it’s dangerous to be this far out alone. Anyone could do bad things to you.” The voice was calm yet carried an underlying authority.

I turned to see an older woman standing a few feet away. Her gaze was strikingly similar to Zeus's but carried a more "maternal" quality. Her presence was commanding yet oddly comforting.

“I like to think that I don’t invite that type of challenge,” I replied, meeting her gaze. “I try to put good in the world and hope to get good back.”

Her expression softened at my words. “I’ve never known a child of Zeus to be so introspective.”

“Well, not all of us can be reckless heroes like Jason, Perseus, Heracles, or the legendary Thalia,” I said with a hint of a smile, feeling a bit more at ease.

The woman’s gaze focused on me, her eyes searching. “Something tells me that’s not your style.”

I nodded. “Nope. I’d much rather enact a strategy that guarantees victory with minimal collateral damage. Huge battles usually mean no one truly wins.”

She smiled, a genuine warmth radiating from her. “May I see?” she asked, pointing to the camera hanging around my neck.

I shrugged and handed it to her. She carefully examined the photos, her eyes lighting up with appreciation. “You have quite the eye for capturing life in motion.”

I couldn’t help but grin with pride. “Thank you, Hera.”

Hera looked up at me, pleasantly surprised. “Hm, you’re smarter than you look,” she admitted, the atmosphere around her shifting from intense to gentle.

“I try my best,” I replied modestly.

“You’ve surprised me, DuVal. I thought you’d be like the rest of my husband’s children, but you’re not. Stay that way; it will serve you well.”

“Thank you,” I said, genuinely touched by her words. “I intend to.”

Hera handed back my camera and sat beside me on the rock, the sound of the waterfall creating a soothing backdrop. “Tell me, DuVal, what drives you? What makes you different?”

I took a moment to gather my thoughts, the roar of the waterfall filling the silence. “I think it’s the understanding that power isn’t just about strength. It’s about knowing when to use it and when to hold back. It’s about empathy and restraint.”

Hera nodded, a thoughtful look in her eyes. “A child of Zeus practicing restraint? You are truly an anomaly, DuVal. You remind me of the best parts of Zeus. His intelligence, his strategic mind... but you also have something more. A kindness, perhaps. Why is it that you share these qualities and the others don’t?”

I looked at her, trying to read the emotions behind her words. “I don’t know. For me, I’ve always been like this. Blame Ultraman, I guess. I appreciate the kind words, though. It’s been an interesting time these last few weeks reconciling with my mom.”

“Oh, that’s right. Zeus had you when he was a woman,” Hera recollected. “That was a peculiar time. I thought it a grand punishment and that he would learn respect for me. To some degree he did, but all it did was drive a wedge further between us. I suppose that’s what led to him or her, at the time, meeting your father.”

She smiled, a mix of pride, sorrow, and nostalgia in her expression. “I believe you are on the right path. And remember, DuVal, it’s not just about what you inherit but what you choose to become.”

As we sat there, I felt a strange sense of connection with Hera. Despite her initial antagonism, there was a bond forming—a mutual understanding and respect. The weight of her words settled over me, heavy yet reassuring.

“Sadly, that’s already been decided. I became a monster,” I said sadly, the reality of my past actions pressing down on me.

Hera’s head tilted, confused. “Why do you think that? Because you don’t have a place with them?” She gestured to the camp. “Just because you weren’t raised like they were doesn’t make you a monster. You move with a gentleness and wisdom that I don’t see others move with. Just earlier today, with the other daughter of Loki, you chose the softer path when you easily could have returned all the venom she sent you.”

“Ah, Cassandra isn’t bad, and besides, that would be begging for more bad to come my way,” I replied.

Hera smiled. “You’ve surprised me, DuVal. I thought you’d be like the rest of my husband’s children, but you’re not. Stay that way; it will serve you well.”

“Thank you,” I said, genuinely touched by her words. “I intend to.”

Hera’s eyes twinkled with a rare warmth. “You’ve earned it. Now, go and make the most of it.”

With that, she stood and began to walk away, leaving me with a renewed sense of purpose. As I watched her go, I knew that this moment had changed something fundamental in me. I wasn’t just the son of Zeus; I was my person, ready to forge my path.

Suddenly, Hera paused and turned back towards me, a contemplative look on her face. “DuVal, one more thing.”

“Yes?” I replied, curious about what else she had to say.

“Your perspective on avoiding unnecessary battles, on protecting others... that’s something I’ve seen too little of among the gods. It’s a quality that will make you a better leader and, perhaps, in time, a better god.”

Her words hung in the air, heavy with meaning. The idea of becoming a god had always been an abstract concept, something far off and intangible. But hearing it from Hera made it feel more real, more possible, and honestly, the idea repulsed me.

“I’ll do my best to live up to that,” I said, my voice steady.

Hera nodded, satisfied. “I have no doubt you will.” With that, she turned and disappeared into the trees, leaving me alone with my thoughts. A little while later I walked back to the councilor’s cabin where a new camera and a note waited for me.

“A hero is more than the weapon they wield. A leader is more than those they control. If you are truly a monster then maybe a monster is needed to guide us out of the night and into the dawn.” I chuckled as I read the note before I heard Sejeong behind me.

“Ooh, what’s that ?” She asked noticing the camera

“A gift I think,” I responded

Sejeong smiled as she closed the distance between us “Ooh a gift from who?”

“Hera I think.” Sejeong laughs as she looks at the camera before handing it to me to add it to my bag.

“You love that camera bag huh,” Sejeong noted

“Why do you say that?”

“I never see you without it.”

“Well I have approximately 5 grand stored in here,” Sejeong eyes popped as she heard the number

“I understand then,” she said with a smile before removing said bag to pounce on me and bombard me with kisses. I happily accepted her advances and let her conduct her “affection train” on me. Her kisses began to shift from chaste to hungry.

Sejeong lifted her shirt revealing her breasts. They were remarkable as always I palm both and began to kiss her more but something was off. I could tell something was eating at her. Like she was forcing herself to do this. As if trying to find her footing, but she couldn’t,

“What’s wrong,” I asked

“It’s nothing. it’s just,” Sejeong started

“Cassandra?” I finished. Sejeong nodded

After she had enough, she cuddled next to me and asked a peculiar question, her voice barely above a whisper, “DuVal, am I a bad person?”

I looked into Sejeong's eyes, seeing the vulnerability and self-doubt reflected there. I understood what she meant by this, the weight of her lineage and the expectations placed upon her. I took a deep breath, choosing my words carefully.

“Sejeong, due to the position you are in, absolutely not. You’ve been trying your best under difficult circumstances, and that’s all anyone can ask for. I understand,” I said softly, my voice steady with conviction.

Tears welled in her eyes, and she leaned into me, seeking comfort. I wrapped my arms around her, holding her tightly. “You are not a bad person, Sejeong. You have a kind heart, and you care deeply. That’s what matters.”

She sniffled, burying her face in my chest. “Thank you, Val. I needed to hear that.”

As we sat there, the room growing quieter, I felt a sense of finality settling over us. The weight of unspoken words and unresolved feelings hung in the air. This was the end of our romantic relationship, but not the end of our connection.

I gently lifted her chin, making her look into my eyes. “Sejeong, you’ll always have a special place in my heart. We may not be together in the same way, but I’ll always be here for you. As a friend, as someone who understands.”

She nodded, a small, sad smile forming on her lips. “I feel the same way, Val. Thank you for being here, for understanding.”

We sat in silence for a while, just holding each other. The unspoken promise of continued support and friendship lingered between us, a comforting presence amid our parting.

Eventually, she pulled away slightly, wiping her tears. “I should go,” she said softly. “But this isn’t goodbye.”

“No, it’s not,” I agreed, giving her hand a reassuring squeeze. “We’ll still see each other, still be there for each other.”

With one last hug, she got up and left the room. I watched her go, feeling a mixture of sadness and relief. This was the right decision, for both of us. As I sat alone, I took a deep breath, letting the emotions wash over me. This was the end of one chapter, but the beginning of another.

End of Part I

[the0doreslover]

For the first time, part II | t.n

Theodore found himself strangely preoccupied with thoughts of you after that short encounter. He couldn't help but wonder what it was about you that intrigued him so much. Every time he saw you around the school, he felt his heart race a bit faster. He found himself looking forward to breakfast just to catch a glimpse of you, and he often caught himself daydreaming about what it would be like to have a conversation with you that extended beyond a few words.

Days turned into weeks, and Theodore's curiosity about you only grew. He discovered from his friends, Blaise and Pansy, that you were known for the way you were quite the mystery, always appearing out of nowhere and disappearing just as quickly. Theodore was captivated by your enigmatic presence.

One day, as the weather started to shift towards autumn, Theodore found himself walking alone in the courtyard after class. Lost in thought, he was startled when he heard your voice behind him.

“Lost again Nott?”

Turning around, Theodore saw you leaning against a nearby tree, a mischievous grin playing on your lips. He chuckled, surprised by how comfortable he felt around you despite barely knowing you.

"I suppose I have a tendency to wander," he replied, his lips curving into a small smile.

You pushed yourself off the tree and took a step closer. "Well, I must admit, I'm intrigued. You don’t look at me with disgust like the other slytherins… it’s nice”

"Is that so?" Theodore raised an eyebrow, genuinely curious about your perspective.

"Yeah. You're quiet, but you don't exude the same air of superiority that most of your housemates do."

He shrugged, leaning against the tree now. "I find that whole superiority thing a bit tiresome, to be honest."

You nodded in agreement. "Me too. So, what do you do when you're not wandering, Mr. Nott?"

Theodore chuckled. "Well, I enjoy spending time in the library, reading and researching various subjects. And I have a penchant for painting."

"Painting, huh? I wouldn't have pegged you as the artistic type."

He smirked. "Appearances can be deceiving, don't you think?"

You laughed, the sound light and pleasant. "Touché. Well, maybe you can show me some of your paintings someday."

"I'd like that," he admitted, feeling a warmth spread through him at the thought. "And maybe this time Hermione won't drag you away from me," he laughed.

As the conversation continued, Theodore found himself opening up to you in a way he hadn't with others. Your easygoing nature and genuine interest in him put him at ease. It was a feeling he wasn't used to, but one he welcomed wholeheartedly.

Little did he know that this conversation marked the beginning of a deep and unexpected connection between the two of you.

Over the following weeks, you and Theodore's friendship blossomed into something more profound. Your witty banter and shared interests formed a strong foundation, and the mysterious air that surrounded you only intrigued him further.

As the months flowed by, the bond between Theodore and you deepened. Each passing day seemed to lock in the connection you shared, an unspoken understanding. The initial curiosity that had drawn you two together evolved into something more profound—an undeniable closeness.

Conversations that once centered around casual topics soon dived into the depths of your hopes and dreams. Theodore found himself sharing his aspirations with you, discussing his fascination with magic's intricacies and the fervor he felt for painting. And you, in turn, bared your soul, revealing your desire for adventure, a hunger to explore.

One serene evening, with the sun casting its last rays across the Hogwarts grounds, you and Theodore stood by the Black Lake. The water flowed, reflecting the fading light, while a gentle breeze tousled your hair, intertwining it with the sweet scent of blooming flowers.

“i haven’t drink anything for weeks” you said looking at the boy who looked almost painted

“i’m glad” he smiled

“i think… we should play shot trivia” you said hopefully

“absolutely not… for all i know you could end up at the hufflepuff table with cedric diggory”

you both laughed

"Have you ever wondered about your path after Hogwarts?" you asked, your gaze lingering on the horizon.

Theodore leaned against a nearby tree, a thoughtful expression playing on his features.

"I've given it thought. Continuing my studies, perhaps looking into obscure branches of magic, and certainly nurturing my love for painting."

Turning to him, a playful grin tugged at your lips.

"So, a wizard with a penchant for artistry? Quite the intriguing combination."

A soft chuckle escaped him. "Appearances can indeed be deceptive. And what about you? What do you envision for your post-Hogwarts days?"

A wistful sigh escaped your lips, and your gaze grew distant. "I've always been more captivated by the present than the future. Yet, I can't help but entertain the idea of traveling."

Theodore nodded in agreement. "That sounds like an awe-inspiring adventure."

Silence settled between you, and Theodore felt a surge of courage, a yearning to confess the feelings that he could no longer suppress.

"Y/n," he began, his voice tender, "there's something I've been wanting to share with you."

Turning toward him, curiosity lit up your eyes.

"What is it, Theo?"

Taking a deep breath, he traced intricate patterns on the tree's bark, the words forming in his mind.

"Every moment spent with you has shaped my life in ways I never even realised till recent. From the minute you sat next to me at the Slytherin table, I haven't been able to think of any name but yours."

Your eyes widened, and the world seemed to still. Then, a smile bloomed across your face. "Theodore Nott, are you implying that you have a crush on me?"

He smirked, his cheeks warming. "I suppose you could say that."

Your grin widened, and you stepped closer, a playful glint in your eyes. "You know, Theodore, I've been secretly hoping you'd say that."

He blinked, amusement filling his eyes. "You were?"

Your nod was accompanied by an unwavering gaze. "Absolutely... I've been feeling the same way too."

Relief and contentment surged through him, and a genuine smile graced his lips. "Really?"

A playful smile accompanied your response. "Definitely. I guess we've been dancing around these feelings for quite a while, haven't we?"

Theodore chuckled, his nerves giving way to a sense of reassurance. "Seems that way."

Reaching out, you gently took his hand in yours, your fingers intertwining with an easy familiarity.

"So, what's the next chapter, Mr. Nott?"

Theodore stared at your face, the way the sun hit it in just the right way made heat rush to his face. In that heart-stirring moment, he leaned in, his heartbeat echoing the anticipation in his chest. He pressed a tender, lingering kiss to your lips.

"I say we travel around the world, I'll draw you in every country we visit."

"Promise?" you asked.

"Promise," he confirmed before placing another sweet kiss on your lips.

“so still a no to shot trivia?”

“still a no”

“okay just checking”

[teddybeartoji]

YES IM TALKING ABOJT THE CRYING I’m so serious I am exactly like that and a similar thing has happened to me (btw you don’t have to respond to this!) but I feel like satoru would do it to tease you and then after seeing you cry because you thought he was upset he would just 😕 okay I didn’t wanna make you cry

AAAAAAAAHHHHHH NONNIEEE!!!!!!! I'M SORRY I'M GETTING TO THIS SO LATE😭😭😭 BUT I'M SO GLAD YOU'RE THE SAME WAY LMAO aaahhh for context for those who might stumble upon this and are like ???????????? the original post was me saying that satoru would definitely get jealous of your cat if you paid it more attention to him bUUUUT i am so sensitive that i would cry over it😭😭 and make a whole scene abt how i love them both equally 😭😭😭

liiiike satoru comes home to the sight of you cuddling with the cat and he's immediately like🤨🤨and where's my hug???🤨🤨🤨 and you beckon him over, saying smth that you don't wanna make the cat leave yk??? and he just rolls his eyes with a small smile and gives you a fat smooch.

but then... he steps out of the shower and gets all comfy with the intent of spending some time with his beloved now, yeah? seems logical? he walks into the living room and- you're still there with the cat,, looking down on the little beast with loving eyes as you give it belly rubs. ohhh and satoru just squints his eyes, huffing and puffing as he walks over. your boyfriend is finally home and you're not all over him??????????????????? are you abandoning him for the critter??????

"do you hate me? do you wanna break up?" satoru stands at the end of the couch and folds his hands over his chest, his eyes boring into yours as he cocks his head.

"wha– " you're confused, of course you are. "why would you ever say that, satoru?!"

his serious tone is scaring you, anxiety immediately pooling in the pits of your stomach. the cat in front of you stops the purring as your hand stops moving, now just resting on top of it.

"do you. hate me?"

"no?!"

"then how come you're still cuddling the furball when i'm literally right here?!"

you blink at him, completely baffled. you take a look at the cat, your baby, and then eye satoru again. your other baby. but he really doesn't seem to be joking, his eyes more serious than usual and you feel bad. you didn't mean for him to be left out! you missed him so much and you're so happy that he's finally home, but you were also just happy that the cat decided to come and cuddle with you, knowing that it likes to sleep on his own more!!!!!!

tears brim in the corners of your eyes before you can stop them and your lips turn downward, forming the perfect pout. oh, and satoru's heart shatters like a piece of glass.

stuck to the ground like glue, he's a bit baffled.

"i'm sorry, satoru. i'm sorry for making you feel bad, i was just excited that it wanted to spend time with me..."

his blue eyes widen like a doe caught in headlights. "i– "

thoughts run a hundred miles per second in his head, his gaze switching from his now heartbroken beloved to the little beast he was so upset with. but when he sees that one tear threatening to roll over the apple of his cheek, he rushes around the couch and drops to his knees in front of you. "no, no, no. i didn't mean it, i didn't mean it!"

he's grasping at your cheeks, tugging you closer so he can press a kiss to your wobbling lips. and then he's pulling back and pressing one to the cat's head too. "i didn't mean it, okay?!"

he pets the cat with a bit more force than usually, desperate to show you that he's not actually mad at you or the cat. "see, we're friends!"

he presses another kiss to the furball. "best friends!" but then the hairs in his mouth make him splutter which in turn makes you crack a small smile. satoru sighs with relief.

"i love both of you... " your voice is soft, genuinely sad that satoru would even joke about something like that. "equally, okay? please, don't be upset..."

"i'm- "

yeah, no, you're going to kill him one day. the strongest one is now getting his ribs cracked in because he made his lover cry. he made them upset over a damn cat. he's close to just sowing his mouth shut just about now.

"i'm not upset, i just missed you. i'm sorry for saying that..." his eyes are gentle while he wipes the remaining few tears with his thumbs. "we can cuddle together. all three of us. yeah?"

he leans forward to press a kiss to your forehead before pushing off the ground and settling himself behind you on the couch, ever so cautious as to not scare the cat more than he has already. he gives the animal a glare but his gaze softens immediately when it starts purring when you start rubbing its belly. satoru can't really blame the little beast, now can he? he's exactly the same – melting into your touch the second you scratch your nails on his undercute. his eyes fall shut as he rests his head against yours, already forgetting the fact that he was getting envious over a pet.

[disasterofastory]

‌👀Oh is your request box is open? If I may, could you maybe do a piece where Thranduil is trying to court reader but she's too focused on her food? Lmao. And maybe we can pretend that a corsage type flower was a courting gift in Silvan elves culture, so Thranduil try to do it for reader since she has many Silvan elves friend, hoping reader notice his intention. Btw thank you

Dinner Thranduil x Reader Warnings: none

A/N: Thank you for your patience! I hope you will enjoy it. :)

You've never been in his room before. You never had the reason for it until now. And you don't understand why you are feeling so nervous about it. You shouldn't. It's just a room, and Thranduil is your friend. There is nothing you have to worry about.

It will be fine.

"It will be fine," you breathe out, forcing a shaky smile on your face as you knock on the tall wooden door. You are not even sure what you should do. Should you knock again? Or just enter? Does he hear you? Maybe you should really knock again just to be sure. "Y/N," the elf greets you with a slight bow of his head. His impossible blonde hair falls over his shoulder. "Hey," you reply. Without your notice, your smile becomes genuine. The nerves relax in your body. "I hope I'm not too soon." "You are just in time," he says. "Come in."

His room is much bigger than yours with a similar style. The bed is huge, with soft blankets and pillows. One of the nightstands is full of books and papers. A mirror stands next to the door with a beautifully crafted wooden frame. "I thought we could have dinner on the balcony," Thranduil says after a few moments, giving you enough time to look around to your heart's content. While you are busy getting familiar with his space, he watches you the whole time. Your hand touches one of his books on his desk. Your finger smooths over the title. Your hair is tied in braids, and the silver embroidery on your dress glints in the light as you move. The long skirt highlights your height, and the leather belt adores your waist perfectly. "We will eat outside?" You ask, turning your attention to the balcony. "Oh, Thranduil," you gasp. "It's beautiful." "It is," he hums in agreement. You don't notice his gaze on you. "Shall we?" He asks, putting his large hand on the small of your back to lead you to your seat.

The balcony is just wide enough to give enough space for a small table and two chairs. Lush, green leaves run all over the wooden railing and the tall, slim columns, framing the view of the woods that are covered in an orange hue by the slowly disappearing sun behind the trees. "Thranduil, this is truly beautiful," you break the silence. Your eyes still scan the view with awe as you sit down. "I don't even know why you don't spend your every time here," you add jokingly. "I can't rule from a balcony," he smiles, sitting down in front of you. "It would be worth a try."

"And you asked for my favorite," you gasp again, looking down at your plate. "What is the occasion?" "It's… I-" "And it's delicious!" You groan between two bites. Thranduil opens his lips to say something but decides against it and smiles. "I'm glad you like it."

"And where is Legolas?" You ask him after a while, looking back into his room. "He won't be mad because we eat without him, right?" Thranduil's usually hard expression softens at your worry. "No," he says. "I told him it will be just the two of us because-" "Where is he? He came back from the woods already, right? It's getting darker." The elven king's teeth clench for a second. His chest swells with the words he can't say out loud. With a deep breath, he nods to chase away your worries. "He is in his room."

"So," the elf starts again after a while. "I asked you to spend dinner with me because-" "It's not your wine, is it?" You suddenly ask him. "It too… spicy." "I asked for the dwarves," he replies. His voice is tense. He really doesn't want to talk about the dwarves right now. "I know how much you like it." "It's really sweet of you, Thranduil," you smile at him. "I-" "Can we not talk about them?" He snaps, making you freeze with your glass in midair. Your eyes widen at the sudden change in his mood. "Sure," you murmur. "I'm sorry, I-" It seems like it's his turn not to let you finish your sentences. A heavy sigh leaves his lips as he closes his eyes for a second. Even though you are familiar with his moods, he doesn't want to ruin the night because of his impatience. You deserve better than him shouting his confession. "Thranduil," you say softly, reaching out for his hand. "Are you alright? Did I do something?" And now, he feels bad. He squeezes your hand in his, lifting it to his lips to kiss your soft skin. "You did nothing wrong, Y/N," he says. His voice is calm and collected. "I apologize for my behavior." "Don't worry about it," you smile at him to make the frown between his thick brows disappear. "I am the one who should apologize. I know I was rude. I just… Everything is so beautiful and… I feel nervous," you confess, biting your bottom lip. "I don't know why."

Silence falls on you for long minutes. None of you say anything as you wait for everything to calm down. Looking back, you feel a bit embarrassed because of your behavior. No matter how much you thought you were calm and relaxed, the small knot in your stomach didn't let you enjoy your night with Thranduil completely. You made a fool out of yourself.

"I just wanted to make this night special for you," Thranduil begins, and this time, you press your lips into a thin line to stop yourself from saying anything. "I'm sorry if I ruined it." You squeeze his hand to argue. He ruined nothing. "I have to tell you something." You nod. He laughs. "What? Now you won't speak?" You grin but say nothing. You just watch the curve of his lips and the brightness of his eyes. Happiness looks really good on him. After another deep breath, he confesses. "I want to ask your permission to court you." Your mouth falls open with shock. "What?" You gasp. That one world is barely louder than a whisper. The knot in your stomach starts to burn with full force. "I really like you, Y/N," he explains. "And if you give me permission, I will…" "Yes!" You snap, then jump on your seat. "I mean… And now I'm rude again. I'm sorry! Please, continue!" Amusement shows on his handsome face instead of frustration. "I will show you how much you mean to me if you let me." "Can I speak now?" You whisper. "Yes," he laughs. "Please, Y/N, talk. I start to miss your voice." "I like you too," you tell him. The words leave your lips with a slight tremble. Nervousness and excitement bubble in your chest. "And I would really like to see where it goes." "Good," he smiles. "You want to go for a walk in the garden? It's not too late for that." "Could we stay here?" You ask him. "I really like the view from here." "Of course, Y/N, whatever you want."

Thranduil only hopes this view becomes a part of your daily life when you move in with him.

[miyuhpapayuh]

21

As soon as Leon walked through the door of Brandon's apartment, nostalgia hit him like a Mack truck.

The air still felt familiar. Every memory of their friendship within these walls came flooding back to him.

“You turned this into a bachelor pad, huh?” Leon cracks.

Brandon laughs. “Ah, had to upgrade the futon and card table at some point, right?”

Leon joined in the laughter, shaking his head. “We lived a lil rough, I won't lie.”

“We made do, though.”

“Please, our mamas woulda killed us if we didn't.”

“You right about that.” Brandon nods, as they move into the living room and take a seat.

The first conversation they've had in five years.

“So, what's up?” Leon asks.

“I wanna start by apologizing to you. I know I was a hothead and I blew you off, a lot. I said some fucked up shit to you and I can't take it back. It took me a long time to realize that you were just looking out for me, cause I just wanted to have fun with my dawg. I wasn't thinking about later in life or the consequences that would come. You were like a brother to me and it's been hell out here without friends like you in my corner.”

Leon nods, knowing it took a lot for them to get to this point, and he knew it was a genuine apology.

“It's all good, man. I said some fucked up shit to you too. I was mad for a while. A long time. Cause we was into it over crazy shit. Petty shit. Yeah, you blew me off a whole lot and I used to take up for yo ass at every stop, cause you was my boy. But I couldn't stick around for the disrespect. But, we can't go through the rest of our lives holdin’ onto that shit.”

“I understand that. I understood it then, it just pissed me off cause fuck you mean we ain't cool no more?” He laughs, Leon joining in. “I'm just glad that I could get you here and sincerely say that. I didn't know what to say for a long time. Sorry just didn't seem good enough. I'm sorry for that, too.”

“It's all good, seriously. I'm sorry, too.” Leon says.

“For what?” Brandon’s brows scrunch.

“I harbored some hatred for you when you and my sister started… whatever y'all got goin’ on. Did the usual overbearing brother thing, but she was hellbent on you becoming a stand-up dude, and I can see that she wasn't lying. It was just so weird to me.”

“I get it, honestly. I mean, that's your little sister. I would never disrespect either of you, things just sorta happened. We knew how it looked and I knew that you and I needed to talk.”

“Well again, I appreciate that man. And just as long as I ain't gotta knock your head between the stove and refrigerator, I'm cool with you and Eryn doing what y'all doing.”

“I know that came straight from the heart.” Brandon nods before laughing.

“I'm glad you know,” Leon says, laughing as well.

“Now that all of that is out the way, what's new with you? Cause I did hear about a girlfriend.”

“Man, ima marry that woman.” Leon shakes his head, a smirk appearing on his lips.

“Word??” Brandon asks, cocking his head to the side.

“No doubt about it.”

“Damn, what's that like?”

And boy, did Leon spend the next almost hour filling his old friend in on everything he'd experienced with Zora thus far.

“Am I invited to the wedding, at least?”

“Come on man, of course!”

They slapped hands and hugged like the brothers they've always been.

✿°•∘ɷ∘•°✿ ... ✿°•∘ɷ∘•°✿✿°•∘ɷ∘•°✿ ... ✿°•∘ɷ∘•°✿

Returning back to his apartment, Leon was immediately greeted by his yawning girlfriend, as she decided to stay up and wait for him.

“Hey baby,” he says, placing a kiss on her forehead as she wraps her arms around him, swaying in their hug as usual.

“Hey, how'd everything go?”

“It went well, actually. We both apologized to each other, caught up like old friends and he's invited to our wedding now, whenever that is.” He snorts, making her join in with her own laughter.

“I'm glad y'all made up, that puts me at so much ease, cause now you're at ease.” She says, rubbing his back.

He smiles, kissing her nose. “Me too, baby. Is that why you're still up?”

“Yeah, I thought something happened. I contemplated on calling you, but then I heard the door unlock.” She smiles.

“You still sleepy?” He asks.

“Eh, not so much anymore. We can still jump back in the bed though. I'm freezing.”

“I'll say,” he steps back to look over her attire, which consists of one of his sweatshirts pulled over her nightgown and fuzzy socks.

“What?” She laughs, playfully smacking his cheek as he shakes his head, his eyes landing back on her face.

“You look beautiful.” He says before scooping her up in his arms and carrying her back into his room.

Back under the covers and in each others arms, the couple flip through the channels to find something to watch.

“Martin?”

“Nah. Half & Half is on tv??” Zora squints, making Leon snicker.

“Did you forget your contacts again?”

“No, I just didn't wanna put them back in yet cause I might fall asleep again soon. I brought my glasses, I just need to get them out of my bag.”

Without another word, he hands her the remote and slides out the bed to retrieve them for her.

“Thank you,” she giggles, putting them on.

“No problem, is that what you wanted to watch?”

“Mmm… nah, let's see what else is on. It's just interesting that it's accessible like that. It's hard finding what you used to watch all the time.”

“Yeah, you right. I remember how hype I was when they brought Jamie back into the rotation.”

“See, he's better than Martin!”

“Yeah, I have to agree.”

“He was way too sexual for me, personally.”

“Yeah, what you be saying? Men are gross? I agree.”

“Good. Plus, you're not a man, you're an angel.” She kisses his face, making him laugh.

“And you're not a woman, you're a goddess.” He pulls her closer to him, continuing to flip through the channels.

“Ooh, my girls!” She all but yells as Living Single pops up.

“There we go.” He chuckles, sitting the remote down.

“Oh, it's one of my favorite ones too!”

“This the one where they were in a singing group?”

“The flavorettes, yes!”

“O had that nasty ass piece on his head, man.” He snickers.

“That was so ugly, I agree. It was so cute how he was still smitten by Synclaire and she was being so mean!” Zora laughs.

“We like that shit.”

“We know,” she responds, still laughing.

After watching Max fall of the stage and get hit with roses, she dozed off again, this time more comfortably since Leon was back underneath her.

“I love you.” He whispers, kissing her forehead.

✿°•∘ɷ∘•°✿ ... ✿°•∘ɷ∘•°✿✿°•∘ɷ∘•°✿ ... ✿°•∘ɷ∘•°✿

“I don't wanna work here anymore.” Zora mumbles to herself as she leans on the bar.

“Then quit!”

“Not that simple,” she sighs, tapping her nails against the freshly disinfected countertop.

As if on cue, the restaurant phone rings.

“Thank you for calling the pub, what can I get you?”

“Yeah, let me get the Wednesday special and a side of Zora Jean!” Nique says before cracking up into the phone.

“Girl!” Zora laughs, covering her mouth and looking around her area.

“What do you want, man?”

“What time do you get off?”

“Six, why?”

“You'll see when we get there. I'll meet you at your place.”

“Do I need to dress up or something?”

“Nope. No more questions! See ya later, love you, bye!”

After work, freshly showered and dressed down in her comfy sweatsuit and uggs, she trudges towards her best friend's car as the wind picks up.

“Hey, lover!” Nique greets once Zora’s situated inside.

“Hey! Where’re we going?”

“You'll see,” she sings, before pulling out of the lot and to their destination.

“So, how was your day?”

“Tiring. I think I'm kinda ready to let it go, friend.” Zora sighs, sticking her finger in the middle of her curly bun to scratch.

“Really?” Nique smirks. “Why what happened?”

“Nothing happened,” she laughs. “I'm just kinda over being there. And I know, we talk about it all the time and I continue to stick it out and I've made it work for me, so it's been extra great.. but I'm not feeling it anymore. The money isn't even worth it.”

“It's okay to feel burnt out. That's why I've always been pro-fuck that job. And no, I'm not gonna insist that you come work with me, I know we're past that. But this could be a good thing for you. You wanna find a new job?”

“No, I need a revamp on my career, as a whole. I wanna… I wanna be the artist of my dreams, again.” She somberly smiles, looking toward the window as her emotions slowly take hold of her.

Nique looks in her direction for a split second, unable to hide her smile.

“I was hoping you'd say that.”

Looking back in her direction, Zora begins to ask what she meant, but then she begins to recognize her surroundings.

“Dominique.”

“Zora-Jean.”

“The Mint?”

“The one and only, babe.” She cheeses, just as Zora covers her face, unable to hold her tears in any longer.

“Oh my god,” she sobs.

“Oh, Jean. Don't cry on me!”

Coming to a red light, she consoles her best friend, rubbing her back with her free hand.

“It's okay, I've been feeling like crying for weeks now. You know how I hold shit in— but, seriously this is so surreal. You just know what I'm thinking and how to execute it every single time. Who are you!” She hysterically asks, making them both laugh as the light turns back green.

“The greatest friend in the world— at least that's what my badge says.” She shrugs.

“Jesus,” Zora playfully scoffs, wiping her wet face.

“Seriously, though. Thank you.”

“Come on, you know you deserve this. It's been in the works for almost six years!”

“Ugh, that's so depressing. Isn't it?”

“Nah. It would be depressing if you still wanted to come home covered in grease after six years. You've had your epiphany and now it's time to plan!”

“You said it! I'm ready.”

“That's all I need to hear!”

Moving inside the spacious museum, the two look around and begin formulating their ideas.

“Wow, I haven't been out here in so long.” Zora looks around in awe.

“Yeah, they rightfully changed some shit around! It was starting to get stale in here.”

“Hm, what pieces could I put in here?”

“All of them?” Nique looks at her like she'd just grown a second head.

“Stop looking at me like that! I'm just asking. I also need to create so much more.”

“Mmhm, get that portfolio together and fast. You know we gotta start making ourselves real familiar with these people. “

“Yes, mom. I'm on it.” 

It feels good to be back.

@ghostfacekill-monger @sheabuttahwrites @honestpreference @thegifstories @harmshake @henneseyhoe @headcannonxgalore @blackpinup22 @motheroffae @mauvecherie-writes @blackerthings @megamindsecretlair @abeautifulmindexposed @blowmymbackout

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

WIBTA for calling out my friend's spending habits?

✈💸 to find later

I (NB 20s) have been struggling to find employment for a long time. I've been struggling a lot with money- I'm technically indebted to my bank due to an overdraft I dipped into during my last weeks of university while paying off surprise fees, and in the entire year since have been unsuccessful in paying it off for any meaningful length of time. The stress has been immense and I've been avoiding like the plague any kind of personal purchase or leisure activity that might cost me anything. It's a mindset that's been making me profoundly miserable and that I'll probably struggle to get out of for a long time.

However, in the past few weeks, I've managed to land what I can only describe as my dream job. It doesn't start for another couple months, and the pay won't be fantastic (it's an internship), but without a doubt it will change my life. Desperate to do something nice and give myself a break, members of my family agreed to lend me money via plane tickets to do a nice trip this summer and see my best friends abroad, my last big hurrah before entering the full-time workforce for the rest of my life (and being able to pay them back). And I've been really excited! I've been saving even harder than usual, scraping up cash and politely asking grandparents. It won't be easy to support myself in another country in my financial situation, I understand that, but I'm at a point where I think I can do it for a short time and not be a burden on the people who are hosting me.

However, the only issue comes with my friend (NB 20s). I've known them for years, we're extremely close, and we've been waiting for a chance to see each other again for most of that time not knowing if it would ever happen due to my financial situation, so this is the opportunity of a lifetime. They really want to host me, for at least 2 weeks, and do all these nice things together we've been planning. But in the past month or so they've all but drained hundreds of dollars from their bank account in art commissions and room decorations for themself, all of which they've been excitedly showing off to me and our other friends, all the while running out of money entirely. They can't pick up work from their (seasonal) job anymore, either, so there's no way for them to earn back the money now, and recently they've started having to push their commissions just to cover their student loan payment this month. In ordinary circumstances I wouldn't mind and would try and help them out, but I won't be in any financial position on the trip to cover their bills as well as my own (at least not regularly), and I feel like this would have been so preventable if they'd just... picked less wildly expensive things to buy as a treat, knowing the circumstances.

They've said they're also stressed and need to buy themselves nice things sometimes, which I totally agree with! I'm not that much of a party pooper, they are in a rough situation themself right now and the stuff they bought does make them genuinely happy. But it also sucks to watch them then have to struggle to pay for bills and necessities because of it, and I feel really selfish for thinking of it in the framework of our time together later as well. I've done my absolute best to be able to spend at least a few weeks having a great time with them not worrying and pinching pennies while taking care of myself, but now I'm worried we're just going to spend the trip with both of us stressed out of our minds and stuck at home struggling to pay for gas. I'm an anxious person, and the few times I've tried to bring up my worries in a more gentle way, they've vehemently reassured me everything will be fine, but now I'm leaving in just over a week and everything seems like it's getting worse instead of improving.

I know I should be just glad to spend time in their company, even if it is just at home, but I can't stop feeling like the way they've been spending money in the leadup to this has been really irresponsible and preventable. But even if so, it made them happy in the moment so i should be happy for them too, and surely it's just straight up none of my business? It's also not like they can take it back now- it's already happened, and they can't earn the money back if they wanted to. I feel like if i called them on it at this point it'd just be a dick move and come across pointless and jealous, but I also can't help but think it's unproductive to let this gnaw at me the entire time, like I should really be communicating this kind of upset and talk it out first in case it comes to a head and boils over and ruins our whole time together.

I'm aware I'll be long into the trip by the time this posts but it'd be nice to look back and see other perspectives.

[lloydfrontera]

i'm about to be a bitch about alloyd so like. skip ahead if you're not into that ig.

the thing thats grinds me the most about alloyd is that,, we've seen lloyd plan out living the rest of his life at someone's side. we've seen him actively wish to spend the rest of eternity with someone. we've seen him think what sounds suspiciously like marriage vows about someone.

i am not joking or exaggerating here are the quotes:

That’s why, you bastard. I’m going to take care of you until the very end. Once I, your wise and older friend, solve the restoration of destiny problem, you’re going to enjoy the rest of your life by my side in peace. [...] He smiled at Javier and thought to himself. You’re my only friend, Javier. I couldn’t have overcome all the obstacles in front of me without your help. So, my trustworthy and reliable comrade, stick with me until I become a lazy lord and you become my personal guard. I hope we will be able to grow old together… -ch 327

Lloyd felt reassured by Javier's presence as he gazed at him. He could not have gotten this far without the knight. Therefore, he did not want to lose Javier and hoped they would keep bickering with each other for eternity. -ch 361

He thought he'd always be with Javier for the rest of his life. Just like now, he thought they'd spend all their time together moving forward. And like they always did, they'd be by each other's side during hard times. Happy moments. Relaxed days. They'd share all these moments as they exchanged insults and corny jokes, growing old as a lazy lord of a fiefdom and his knight. Lloyd always thought so. The thought just came naturally, without much effort from him, much like breathing. Lloyd believed that Javier would always remain by his side as that was how it had been until now. -ch 222

and at no point in any of those occasions has he ever sounded remotely afraid, threatened or uncomfortable with the idea.

so how come he is all of that when it comes to the idea of marrying what is supposed to be his canon love interest? like???

This is bad. Really bad. Terrible feelings struck his gut. Lloyd's lifelong wish was to find a rather ordinary woman to fall in love with, before getting married and having kids with her to lead an unremarkable family life. This was the extent of the luxury he had always dreamed of, not the frantic romance with the mightiest queen in the entire continent. I can see and feel it. I can sense it. This isn't good. Lloyd could see himself in the queen's pockets, like a scaredy cat in the presence of a ferocious lioness. -ch 390

Lloyd became speechless, even though he desperately wanted to call it an absolute abuse of power, tyranny, and dictatorship. But I'm kind of excited and glad... except what kind of marriage proposal is this threatening...?! But Lloyd couldn't bring it out in words, as his queen had already taken him by his hand. It was rough, yet warm. He could feel every heartbeat that was clearly pounding faster than usual. Ugh. There goes my dream of ordinary living. Lloyd quickly wiped off the tear that was about to fall from his eyes at the thought of the frightening romance. -ch 393

does this sound like someone in love???? like?? genuinely?? is this really what the main character should feel about his love interest???

i'm not even saying that the way lloyd feels about javier is inherently romantic, him feeling perfectly comfortable and hopeful about spending the rest of their life together is perfectly explicable by their close friendship.

but why make your protagonist sound so terrified of the idea of marrying what is supposed to be the love of his life?? when you never did that when writing about his other close relationship??

it's just. it's frustrating. to me lmao

[emma23]

The Line Between Us:

Steven Grant x reader

————————————————————————

The British Museum was quiet in the early morning hours, the kind of silence that carried a sense of anticipation. You had been working in the museum's archives for a few years, cataloging ancient artifacts and documents. It was a job you loved, not just for the history but also for the people, particularly your colleague and friend, Steven Grant.

Steven was different from most people you knew—gentle, intelligent, and endlessly passionate about Egyptian mythology. His earnestness and kind heart had made you fast friends when you first started working together. Over time, your friendship had deepened into something more... complicated.

It had started innocently enough. After a long day at the museum, you and Steven would grab dinner, talk about the latest exhibit, or just unwind. One night, after a particularly exhausting week, a few drinks led to a kiss. That kiss had ignited a spark neither of you had expected, but instead of moving forward into a relationship, you had both agreed to keep things casual—a decision that seemed simpler at the time.

You had settled into a routine that worked: friends by day, something more by night. It was unspoken, comfortable, and surprisingly fulfilling. Yet, there was an unacknowledged tension, a question neither of you dared to voice—what if this could be more?

————————————————————————

One evening, after a particularly grueling day of work, you and Steven ended up at his apartment. It had become a familiar pattern; you'd both crash on the couch, watching documentaries or discussing obscure myths until the tension between you grew too palpable to ignore.

Tonight was no different. As you sipped on your tea, you noticed Steven watching you, a thoughtful expression on his face. "What is it?" you asked, setting your cup down.

Steven hesitated, then shook his head. "Nothing, just thinking."

"About?" you prompted, curious.

"Us," he admitted, his voice soft. "How we got here. It's just... interesting."

You felt a flutter of anxiety. "Interesting how?"

Steven sighed, running a hand through his hair. "I guess I just never imagined I'd be in a... whatever this is. But I'm glad you're in my life, you know?"

You nodded, feeling a warmth spread through you at his words. "Yeah, me too. It's... nice."

There it was again, the unspoken words hanging in the air. You both knew this arrangement had a shelf life, that at some point, you'd have to face the reality of your feelings. But for now, it was easier to keep things light, to avoid the complicated mess that emotions could bring.

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One weekend, Steven suggested a trip to a nearby exhibit on Mesopotamian artifacts. You agreed, excited for the chance to spend a day outside the usual confines of work and his apartment.

As you walked through the exhibit, discussing the significance of the artifacts, you couldn't help but notice the way Steven's eyes lit up with passion. It was one of the things you loved most about him—his genuine excitement and enthusiasm for history.

After the exhibit, you found a quiet café and settled in for lunch. The conversation flowed easily, as it always did with Steven, until he brought up a topic that caught you off guard.

"Do you ever think about the future?" he asked, looking at you intently.

You hesitated, unsure where he was going with this. "Sometimes. Why?"

Steven shrugged, but you could see the tension in his shoulders. "Just wondering. I guess I never thought I'd be in a... friends with benefits situation. It feels... temporary."

His words hung in the air, and you felt a pang of discomfort. It was a truth you'd both been avoiding. You liked Steven—a lot. But the idea of changing the dynamic between you, risking what you had for something more uncertain, was terrifying.

"I know what you mean," you finally said, your voice barely above a whisper. "But what we have works, right?"

Steven looked at you for a long moment, then nodded slowly. "Yeah, it does. I guess I just... worry about what happens if one of us wants more."

You felt your heart clench at his words, knowing he was voicing a fear you'd both been suppressing. The truth was, you were scared too—scared of ruining what you had, scared of admitting your feelings, scared of the possibility of being hurt.

But as you sat there, looking at Steven, you realized that maybe, just maybe, the risk was worth it.

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The weeks following that conversation were tense. There was a new awareness between you, an undercurrent of unspoken feelings that seemed to touch every interaction. You found yourself avoiding deeper conversations, focusing instead on work and maintaining the status quo.

But the more you tried to keep things the same, the more the strain showed. There were moments of awkwardness, lingering glances, and conversations that skirted around the growing tension. It was clear that something had to give.

One night, as you sat in Steven's apartment, the silence between you felt heavy. You knew you couldn't avoid the conversation any longer.

"Steven," you began, breaking the silence. "We need to talk."

He looked up, a flicker of apprehension in his eyes. "Yeah, I think we do."

You took a deep breath, steeling yourself. "This... whatever this is, it's not working. We can't keep pretending everything's fine when it's not."

Steven sighed, running a hand through his hair. "I know. I've been thinking a lot about what you said, about what happens if one of us wants more."

Your heart pounded in your chest as you met his gaze. "And what do you want, Steven?"

He hesitated, then spoke with a quiet intensity. "I want more. I can't keep pretending I'm okay with just being friends with benefits. I care about you, a lot. And I think... I think I'm falling for you."

The words hung in the air, and you felt a rush of emotion. Relief, fear, hope—all mixed together in a confusing jumble. You had always known that your feelings for Steven were deeper than friendship, but hearing him say it aloud made it real.

"I care about you too, Steven," you said softly. "But I'm scared. Scared of losing what we have, scared of things changing."

Steven reached out, taking your hand in his. "I know it's scary, but maybe it's worth the risk. We owe it to ourselves to see where this could go."

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In the days that followed, you and Steven navigated the uncharted territory of a budding relationship. It was both exhilarating and terrifying, filled with moments of joy and uncertainty. You had shared so much already, but now there was a new layer of vulnerability, a willingness to explore the depths of your feelings for each other.

There were challenges, of course. Old habits and fears resurfaced, leading to moments of doubt and insecurity. But through it all, you and Steven remained committed to each other, to building something real and lasting.

One evening, as you sat together on his couch, Steven turned to you with a thoughtful expression. "You know, I never really believed in fate or destiny," he began, his voice soft. "But meeting you, it feels like something... special. Like maybe we were meant to find each other."

You smiled, feeling a warmth spread through you. "I know what you mean. I've never felt this way about anyone before."

Steven leaned in, his lips brushing against yours in a gentle kiss. It was a kiss filled with promise and hope, a testament to the journey you had taken together. As you pulled back, you looked into his eyes, seeing a future filled with possibilities.

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Months later, you and Steven found yourselves sitting in the same café where you'd had that pivotal conversation. It was a quiet evening, the air filled with the soft hum of conversation and the clinking of dishes.

As you sipped your tea, you reflected on how far you'd come. The journey from friends with benefits to a committed relationship had been challenging, but it had also been one of the most rewarding experiences of your life.

Steven reached across the table, taking your hand in his. "I'm glad we took the risk," he said, his eyes shining with affection. "I can't imagine my life without you."

You smiled, squeezing his hand. "Me neither. It hasn't always been easy, but it's been worth it."

As you looked at each other, you felt a deep sense of contentment. The line between friends and lovers had blurred, then disappeared altogether, leaving behind a love that was strong and true.

In the end, you realized that the best relationships are built on a foundation of friendship and understanding. You and Steven had crossed that line together, and there was no turning back.