#and what better to start a fire with than her burning love for her favorites lmao

[50funct]

man I started coding again in renpy last night. idk why this stupid like engine is such a comfort thing for me LMAO but I actually got the hang of making menus pretty easily, and put in some of my placeholder art already... I’m thinking I might actually be making good headway for my friend’s birthday

[ash5monster01]

Not Just The Books

Pairing: Steve Harrington x FemReader

Warnings: 18+, no use of Y/N, smut, nudity, language, fluff, friends to lovers, minors DNI.

Summary: Steve catches you reading a smutty book and before the embarrassment can settle in you realize he is more interested in doing the stuff in the book with you.

word count: 3.5k

Masterlist

It was not uncommon for you and Steve to be able to sit in silence comfortably. Sometimes having the presence of a friend while you did different things was so much better than being alone. So you both sat comfortably in his living room, you in the easy chair, lamp on to illuminate your book, and him in the center of the couch, slumped down, as he watched whatever was on TV. The sound didn’t bother you as you read, you normally were in another world, not noticing the things around you. So even though Steve had the TV blaring with the hearing of a Grandpa, you didn’t even mind, the TV could explode and you wouldn’t notice. Thing was Steve always noticed you, even if his favorite movie was on TV.

So when he spotted you uncrossing your legs it peaked his interest. You still hadn’t torn your eyes from the book to see he had noticed your movement. Steve had almost turned away until he saw you had pressed your legs together, your teeth capturing your bottom lip. His heart accelerated slightly because he knew that kind of movement. He had caused many of girls that kind of movement, so when you started to shift in your seat, your breaths coming out in smaller pants he realized there was something more to the book you had tightly gripped in your hands. You still didn’t even flinch as Steve stood and walked over to you, in fact you couldn’t even tear your eyes from the page as he quite literally did it for you.

“Steve!” you screeched and he quickly noticed how dilated your eyes were, how fast your chest rose with each breath. You looked like a woman starved.

“Since when do books make you act like that” Steve teased, eyebrows raised highly and you felt the embarrassment burn through you.

“Please give me my book back” you begged, hand out, waiting for him to hand it over.

“You know, normally I would” and the panic started to set in as he turned the book towards himself. Steve never attempted to read your books. Why now?

“Please Steve!” you we’re quick, lunging towards him, but he was quicker. Your voice was rough, all worked up, and no one had even touched you.

“It’s always Steve you need to read more, when was the last time you opened a book, and now you don’t want me too?” he knew he was getting under your skin and you just prayed he woundn't read the page you were on. If there was some higher power out there they would keep him from reading that page right now.

“Just not that book, I was enjoying it” even Steve could hear how uncomfortable you sounded as you said it. It was as if you were trying to get him to cough it up without knowing what was so interesting about it.

“Well, I want to see what’s so good” and just like that his eyes dipped down and you launched for him. Yet Steve escaped your grasp, running across the room, and leaping onto the couch where he stood. Book now face open and you got to watch him read it in real time, like he was on a stage.

Claire panted out heavy breaths, skin on fire everywhere he left a wet love bite and blew on it. She tried to steady her breathing but as his wet kisses trailed down her stomach, finishing on the waist band of her shorts, she couldn’t quite seem to stop the breaths that came out.

Slowly his fingers curled into her waistband and she lifted her hips to make it easier, a silent conformation that what he was doing was okay. As the cool air of the bedroom hit her dripping core she couldn’t help but whimper over the thought of him burying himself between her folds.

“So perfect” he spoke, his tongue darting out to take a small taste. “And sweet”

Then just like that he was devouring her completely. So fast her back arched without her knowledge, pressing into him as he deliciously lapped up everything he could. Eating her out better than anyone ever had, and as his nose nudged against her clit she couldn’t help but begin to feel the coil tighten in her stomach. He had barely done anything and she was already ready to cum.

“Holy shit” Steve muttered, dropping his arms that held the book as he looked down at you from the couch. Very much unable to meet his eyes as he realized exactly what you were reading.

“Can I have my book back now?” you nervously asked, arm rubbing up and down your other one. Steve jumped back down to the ground. Trying to regain your gaze.

“Want to explain this to me?” he asked, holding it over and you quickly snatched it back.

“Not particularly” you now hyper aware of exactly how alone the two of you were right now.

“You like to read dirty books” he chuckled like a little kid and finally you dared to glance up at him only to see a smug look on his face, like he obtained information he was going to hold over your head for years to come.

“Most girls do Steve” you hissed attempting to hit him with the book but he quickly stopped you, his head coming to a shake.

“Whatever you say, it just looked like you were really enjoying it. I’d never seen you so…” he paused, trying to think of a word, and your heart accelerated. Thumping quickly against your ribs and you prayed he couldn’t hear it. “Worked up”

You sucked in a sharp breath as he said it and the air around you turned heavy. This had gone from embarrassing to mortifying because not only did you get caught reading about sex but you got caught for it turning you on. Steve had noticed you were turned on and now you wished he didn’t notice you even existed. “Can we not talk about this, I was acting like I always do”

“That’s a lie, you wouldn’t move while reading even if a tornado came through here but you couldn’t even sit still. You were needy and I know it because I’ve seen it a hundred times” now you were red as a fire truck and Steve was enjoying this way too much. Yet he was also getting turned on which he shouldn’t have because it’s you. His longest and oldest friend, the one he can be completely comfortable with but now he wanted to know exactly how wet you were from that stupid book and he wanted to see if he could get you wetter.

“Ah yes, King Steve, ruler of sex. Can’t take a hint but knows when a girl is turned on” you told him sarcastically, annoyed he insisted on embarrassing you further.

“So you admit to being turned on?” he said with a smirk and you rolled your eyes with a groan.

“My God give it a break, yes I was turned on, is that what you want to hear?” you asked him and as you let out heavy breaths and waited for him to give a sarcastic answer it never came. Instead he stared you down, like you admitting this suddenly made you a four course meal. Steve had never looked at you like this and now you were nervous all over again but about an entirely different thing.

“Why are you looking at me like that?” you nervously asked, attempting to back away from him because now the foot and half between you two was way too close.

“I’m not doing anything” he told you, stepping towards you to shorten the distance again and you wished he hadn’t of done it because now Steve was replacing the guy in the book for you.

“Yes you are, you’re looking at me like you want to kiss me” you said, trying to make it sound like a joke but even to you is sounded nervous. Steve just tilted his head, eyeing you up and down completely.

“It looks like that because I do want to kiss you” how was he so comfortable talking to you like this? You had never crossed this line before and now you wanted him to touch you and stay away all at the same time. “So can I kiss you?”

“I uh, I I..-“ you stammered, unsure how you went from peacefully ignoring each other to the edge of the line. If you say yes you would give him a reason to cross it and that was a lot of responsibility for a person.

“I need an answer sweetheart, because I really really want to kiss you” he spoke slowly and you swallowed hard, still turned on from the book and now a little turned on by him.

“Uh yeah, I-I guess” you told him and a grin cracked across his face and before you could say anything more his hands were on your face and drawing your lips near his own. He waited a minute before pressing them to yours, whether is was hesitant or savory you weren’t sure. But after a steady breath he pressed against you, mouth hot and slotting between your own lips perfectly. He was a good kisser but you already knew that.

It took only seconds for it to get heated, his hands tugging lightly at your hair and tongue grazing your lip. You parted in an instant, letting his tongue tangle with your own and then it was over. He had you backing up all the way to wall, your back thumping against it, and his knee wedging between your legs. Against your better judgement you started to grind against it, unable to stop your self considering how worked up you had been. “Getting yourself so turned on without any release, seems like torture sweetheart”

“There was going to be release, later, when I was alone” and your response had Steve’s head tipping back as he let out a groan.

“Still unfair, why don’t you let me take care of you?” Steve coaxed and you involuntarily ground down on his leg, knowing release was right around the corner if you just let him. Was it worth it though? To cross this line just for some sweet release? For a touch that could unwind you more than your own hands could? You knew Steve was a good lay, had been legend among the Hawkins High halls because of it. Should you even find out for yourself with risk of ruining the friendship? Fuck it.

You didn’t even have to answer based on the way your lips smashed back into his own. He met your pace in the blink of an eye and you couldn’t keep yourself from pulling at the hem of his shirt, trying to lift it above his head. Even needier at the sight of his bare torso you began to ride his leg like your life depended on it. A deep chuckle left his throat as his hands dug in the doughy flesh of your hips, slowing your movements against him. He wanted to take his sweet time with you and if he went any slower you were going to be a whining mess.

“What do you need baby?” he asked against your neck, sucking hard on the sensitive spot there and you were in no position to care that he probably gave you a crimson hickey.

“Take off my shirt” you told him with a groan, keening as he licked the sore spot of your neck. He obeyed, removing the baggy T-shirt you had worn over here just to be met with the sight that you had forgone a bra. You watched as his eyes turned almost black at the sight of you, swallowing thickly before cupping his hands around both your breasts. The minute he began to knead the flesh your head was hitting back against the wall, fighting from grinding on his leg again. Something about Steve needily groping your chest ignited a fire within you and you had been doing good until your nipple was sucked into his warm mouth and involuntarily you bucked your hips on his leg so hard you felt your hips bones hit his own.

"Such a needy girl" he teased before moving to suck on your other breast. As much as his words turned you on you still found yourself needing to feel more in control. Steve would be too cocky knowing he got you to so desperately fall apart like this. So in a moment of courage you took some intiative. With his eyes still closed, mouth littering your breast with hickeys, you dropped your hand down and grasped his hard on through his sweats. You felt the squeak from his throat on your breast as you began to stroke him through his pants and just as the girls had said in highschol, Steve was intimidatingly big.

“Looks like the book turned more than just me on” you teased, a sly smile on your face and Steve removed his mouth from your breast, tongue grazing up the skin of you neck till he was face to face.

“That’s not the book, that’s you” he told you and these words gave you the rush of confidence you needed for your fingers to slip below his waist band and grasp his cock right at the base. He hissed at the feeling of your cool fingers and the attention you were giving him.

“Stevie is needy too, what does he need?” you hummed, eyes wide and innocently looking up at him. He squeezed his own eyes shut as you slowly stroked him, prepared to ease him out of his pants.

“Baby this is about you” he told you, trying his best to back away but you had a grip on him that he was enjoying way too much.

“I know, that’s why I want to do this” and you were spinning both of you around, pressing him against the wall he previously had you caged in. He groaned as you dropped to your knees, breasts swinging as you finally pulled his sweat pants down. His length stared you down but he looked delicious as ever. If someone had ever suggested you’d be sucking your best friends cock tonight you would’ve told them they were lying but now here you were, taking him into your mouth. You hummed at the saltiness of his skin, tongue swirling around his swollen tip. He grabbed your hair without even realizing, trying to ease you to take more of him. Slacking your jaw you allowed him to glide in and out of your warm mouth, letting him hit the back of your throat, humming against him which made him writhe against the wall.

“Okay, stop I’m going to cum” he pulled you off of him, arms easing under your own and lifting you to your feet as if you weighed nothing. You smiled deviously at him, chin slick with spit and he didn’t waste two seconds before pulling you into a deep kiss. “It’s my turn to get a taste now”

He was mumbling against your lips, arms wrapped around you as he carried you over to the couch he had been watching TV on. Once he had you laid gently across it he was removing his own pants and dropping to his knees to remove yours. He made sure to take his sweet time, pulling the soft material down your legs, memorizing the cream color of the lace panties that had been soaked against your mound. You tried not to whine out as he touched you everywhere but there. You were on the verge of begging until he finally moved to pull the cream fabric off of you. You went to close your legs but his arm stopped you, keeping you wide open for him.

“So perfect” he said and you groaned out.

“Don’t tease” and Steve knew you meant both about the book and about how he was taking care of you. So he just grinned before dipping down and licking a long stripe through your folds.

“And sweet” and you didn’t have any time to yell at him because he was devouring you whole. Your stomach jumped as he sucked harshly at your clit, back arching and pressing your pussy straight into his face. His hands gripped the back of your thighs, more than likely leaving bruised finger prints but you hoped they did. You wanted to remember the mind numbing head Steve Harrington gave you. You almost didn’t expect him to be so good at eating you out. You should’ve thought because your heels were digging into his back, hands tugging harshly as his curls, and you were moaning unapologetically because he was just that good. You could feel the coil begin to tighten in your stomach and you were grinding against his tongue, movements getting faster indicating you were right there. It wasn’t until his lips wrapped around your clit did you find yourself begin to snap, shaking as your body seemed to leave earth and come back to you all at once.

“Hope you’ve got another one in you baby” he cooed, kissing up your stomach and breasts. He finally met your mouth and even though you were already half worn out you found yourself gripping his cock in your hand again. He winced due to holding his own orgasm off and your thumb gently rolled over his tip.

“Show me what you’ve got Harrington” you were telling him, pressing a chaste kiss to his lips before sucking on his neck. Steve hoped you were leaving your mark and soon enough you were lining him up between your legs. You shuttered as he ran himself through your slick.

He couldn’t wait any longer and finally he was pushing himself in you, bottoming out in seconds as you fully sucked him in. He knew not to move as your mouth froze against his neck and he moved to kiss your lips, an apology and promise that it would stop hurting soon. He was in his own pain of needed relief until your hand was grazing down his bare back.

“Please move, I’m begging you” and he didn’t need to be told twice as he pulled back and slammed into you again. You moaned loudly and he quickly found his pace, moving in and out of you as best he could. Swiftly you grabbed his hands, placing them on your breasts which he didn’t hesitate to grip. He used them for balance as he slammed in and out you, massaging them and loving them as best he could. The way you were reacting made him realize this was what turned you on most, attention to your breasts. Needing to have his release soon he dipped down, removing one hand to suck at your nipple as hard as he could, hips still slamming into you. The wet heat of his mouth had you keening in seconds and you gasped out, trying your best not to yell.

“I’m coming Steve, fuck cum in me please” you begged and he almost came right there as he heard those words. In moments you were pulsating around him, clenching tightly and milking him for all he was worth. The tightness of you made him follow right after, thick ropes shooting into you. You panted heavily as you gripped his shoulders, indicating him not to move.

“I want you inside of me a little longer” you told him and he slowly eased down onto you, trying his best not to move and overstimulate you.

“Where the fuck did this behavior come from?” he asked, pressing gentle kisses to the hickeys he had littered your breasts with. He was trying his best not to get hard over the fact he was still inside of you.

“I’ve always been like this Steve” you told him, feeling him twitch inside you.

“This dirty, why haven’t we been fucking sooner?” he chuckled, mouth kissing your chin and you rolled your eyes.

“Because I don’t fuck around Steve, and I always told myself that if we did this it had to be real” and the weight of your words hit him with surprise. Yet it wasn’t the kind of surprise you had expected.

“You mean to tell me you liked me this whole time too? Then what the fuck have we been waiting for?” he groaned out and your eyes widened as you reached for him.

“You like me too?” you hopefully asked and he smiled, lifting to press his mouth to your own. You winced as he slipped out of you, no doubt a mess all over the couch that now had to be cleaned.

“Hell I love you, I’ve always loved you” he told you after a beat and you smiled up at him, realizing you should’ve read dirty books around him sooner.

“We’ll in that case, let’s do this again”

For you to enjoy <3: @jjmaybankswifes-blog @halflifejess

[nixmori]

Astarion x Wren

The Lovers Tarot: upright

A fun pass time for me is always thinking which tarot card fits the characters at different parts of the story, and the primary themes that govern them.

Wren (my primary Tav) is the reversed lovers card for much of her early story/game. She longs for connection but is met with a cold, detached world, resulting in mental imbalance and the absence of self-love. She’s lonely and insecure, fearing rejection. Her closest relationship up until the events of the game was with her patron—the capricious (but not malicious) Archfey Kol. He offered her power and the pretense of connection, but never anything real.

For Astarion, while I think another card represents himself (I’m keeping that to myself because I have another art planned around it!) I feel his struggle aligns well with the devil card. He is, of course, more than figuratively shackled to Cazador, but also to the years of abuse, trauma, and his own demons born of that time. The shackles depicted in that card are loose—showing they can be broken should the person choose to be free of their demons.

The lovers and the devil cards are mirrors of one another. The lovers shows security and balance, but also the temptation of the fruit and the snake that could lead to back down the road to self destruction. Alternatively, they are a reminder of what it took to come back from that to a harmonious state.

In my interpretation of The Lovers here, I’ve retained the shackles from Astarion’s devil card. He’s chosen a new path—one where he can be true to himself. The scars will always be there, but the chains are broken. I’ve retained the forbidden fruit as Wren’s crown, with the leaves too represent the personal growth of both characters while the berries (fruit) represent the temptations that would have lead them down a very different path (which I will leave out due to spoilers!)

Fun fact, the Angel in the original card art is Raphael! Very different from everyone’s favorite demon in the game. This Raphael represents physical and emotional healing. I didn’t think an Angel would fit the aesthetics of what I wanted so I replaced him with the moon and Polaris. The first reason has to do with Astarion’s spawn ending so I won’t go into it. The second is taken from the moon card itself, where the moon reveals one’s true self. Paired with Polaris, it represents the moon’s light as a guide, as both embark on their long journey of healing. It won’t be an overnight venture—something that can be fixed by a single entity, so the moon as a guide works better in this context, I believe.

As a personal addition, Wren holds a few nerine lilies—a flower that has been associated with freedom since Ancient Greece. They also symbolize unity, and feelings straight from the heart, which felt appropriate for a relationship where both characters started as strangers to emotional intimacy. (I used to be a florist, I HAVE to have my flower symbolism)

Finally, the clouds at the bottom started life as flames, which in the og tarot card represent passion. As the art took form though, they took on the appearance of smoke/clouds. I could have made it more flame-like but I really liked how this looked, but I also think it fits the slow burn the story ended up taking. There’s a fire, somewhere—but it isn’t the most important thing here.

If you made it this far, thanks for reading my essay. I hope it was coherent!

[brodieland]

.˚ 𓈒 ࣪.𝝑𝝔 he's not just a man, mom.. ´ˎ˗

Luke Castellan x Fem!Athena!Reader Synopsis: Reader sneaks on a cruise ship with Percy, Annabeth and Tyson. Guess who she has a run in with !!!! Warning(s): slight angst. and uh swears ig Word Count: 1833 A/N: part 2 was requested😘 and I skimmed over a lot, I didn't want to copy and paste most of Sea of Monsters so yk Part 1

Months, well actually, an entire school year has past since your boyfriend, well ex boyfriend now, Luke turned to Kronos. And yes, the rumors are true! Time heals all wounds!! Sure you needed some more time but you were starting to get back to your normal self slowly but surely. And the Athena head counselor position was rightfully handed right back to you (until Annabeth comes back for the summer).

Normally time isn't real for a year rounder like yourself, but there's been an issue. The magic barrier that protects camp Half-Blood is held up by Thalias tree, except her tree has been poisoned. No one knows when or how it happened, but you decided to keep your guess to yourself. Well that doesn't matter now. With Thalias tree slowly getting worse and worse, the border surrounding camp is weakening, allowing monsters to start slipping through and find the camp. Defenses are thinning, and even with summer around the corner enrollment numbers are at their lowest.

Thankfully you weren't on Charisse's bad side so she didn't mind joining forces. And don't get it twisted, you love Annabeth, but you've never loved her more than when you watched her and Percy (and a cyclops??) run up the hill and help fight the monsters.

After the fighting was over, you weren't injured yourself so you went to help out at the infirmary. It helped keep your mind off stuff, and now you had Percy and Annabeth to keep you company. You were currently checking them for burns.

"Wow, 13 and no body hair?"

"THE MONSTER BURNED IT OFF."

You and Annabeth just laughed at the boy. After you both calmed down you started to explain whats been happening the last couple of months at camp while they've been away. Grim expressions washed over them as you finished, Chiron being fired and being replaced with TANTALUS was truly the cherry on top in your opinion.

"Well, time to eat right?"

This might've been one of the most interesting dinners yet. The cyclopes, also known as Tyson, ended up getting claimed by Poseidon (Percy wasn't the biggest fan of this particular development), and we have an upcoming Chariot race coming up (something Tantalus decided to start doing). You weren't planning on participating in the race, but Annabeth and Percy got into a fight so now you had too.

Finally the day came and instead of a friendly race, everyone was attacked by killer birds that were just barely shot out the sky. Maybe some help on Clarrise's end would've been nice, but she thought winning was more important, while you, Tyson, Percy and Annabeth just got punished.

The four of you were stuck washing dishes when the two younger campers got to talking. They were smart ones, basically we needed the Golden Fleece, simple as that. Except who did Tantalus give the quest too? The winner of the race. Clarisse.

"But Grovers my friend!"

"Yeah you guys wouldn't even have the quest if it weren't for us!"

Your yelling didn't help matters, the Ares kids just accused Percy of wanting the spotlight. They just never liked Percy after he beat up their dad, the fact he did that still amazes you. You and Annabeth just accepted the defeated and walked yourselves to your cabin.

"So Annabeth, how's it been in the outside world?"

"Cooler than I thought but please, how's it been with.. you know what?" You averted your gaze slightly and swallowed. You were getting better, but that certainly didn't mean you were over him.

"I haven't heard from mom in like eight months." Annabeth looked at you confused. You never told her about the last conversation with Athena.

"What? I thought you were like, her favorite or something?"

"To be fair I basically told her to fuck off," you shrugged like it wasn't that serious but your sister looked at you like you were crazy. "It was about Luke, you know she never liked him." She just nodded as you both walked back to your cabin. When you got there neither of you couldn sleep and decided to stay up late studying maps of the sea of monsters, where Grover and the Golden Fleece were. Suddenly Annabeth stood up.

"Annie whats wrong?" You asked, looking between her and the maps.

"You didn't hear that?" you just shook your head slowly.

"Maybe it's just time to sleep-"

"No it was Percy, he was screaming for help cmon!" You decided not to bother questioning it and started chasing after her. Annabeth was following the sound and you just followed her. You guys made it out to the beach, where you saw Percy, just fine and not screaming. Tyson came running out too.

"Percy are you okay? Why were you screaming?" Annabeth questioned.

"I wasn't screaming, but I'm glad you guys are here." Percy explained how he had a run in with Hermes. The thought of Hermes just makes you think of Luke. That kinda sucks.

"Anyways, we need to use this," Percy held up a jar and pointed to the cruise behind him, "to get over there."

"Seems... reasonable. We have to hurry the harpies are getting close." you urged.

"Yeah ask your dad for some help" Annabeth pushed Percy toward the ocean. Why did Percy start with small talk, we're on a time crunch. Never the less a bunch of hippocampi came forward and we were off.

"I've never been on a cruise before, I wonder what it's like." You said.

"Probably won't be like any normal one if Hermes sent us." Percy pointed out. If Hermes sent us you, you hoped it meant what you thought it did. And you hated that you were hoping for that. Luke. Ever since your last conversation with your mom, it's like you've been seeing things differently. The gods really did just use their kids, but could you really turn your back on them?

You were cut out of your thoughts when you finally made it to the ship. You all snuck on and wandered through the cruise. Everyone here was like a bunch of lifeless zombies. Now if that didn't raise your suspicious nothing would. You guys were sneaking around until you found an empty suite on the 9th floor. Sleep was a must right now.

"Us girls will be next door alright?" You said.

"Yeah, don't eat or drink anything either," Annabeth added. She was right, something was off here. You and Annabeth left to your side of the suite to change for bed. Annabeth was knocked out in seconds but you just couldn't sleep. You knew why Hermes wanted you guys here, and it kept you up. While your sister was snoring beside you, you took the chance the sneak out the room. All you had was an oversized t-shirt that hung to your mid thigh and a dream.

As you started walking around, there were no lights to be seen. You started from your floor and made your way up. When you got off the elevator on the 13th floor, you saw the room at the end of the hall had a light on. It was nearing 2AM, most people should be asleep. That's when your gut told you this is what you were looking for. You thought it was time to listen to it. You made your way to the door, and saw that it was unlocked. You slowly opened the door and saw a certain someone with his back facing the door, looking off into the ocean through his window.

"Hey Luke," you said. Luke didn't move for a second, but when he turned it was slow.

"Y/N.. I didn't think I'd see you again." Your lip quirked ever so slightly, and you walked up and sat down on the bed in front of you, now just a mere few feet away from him

"Likewise."

"Lemme guess, Percy and Annabeth are with you? Were you sent to kill me?"

"Yes, and no. We weren't sent here, or anywhere in fact."

"Wow, look at her. Ms. Rule Breaker. What would your mother think?" You swallowed at the mention of your mother. What would she think?

"Well, we haven't spoken in eight months." You looked at the ground.

"Hmm, what happened?"

"You happened, that's what." You looked back up at him, he had a shit eating grin on his face. "Wipe that smile off your face Castellan."

"Or what? You're already here, why waste our time together fighting? We both know you're not here for the gods," Luke teased. He was right, so why fight?

"Just come here," you lunged up and jumped in his arms, kissing him like the starved woman you were. You missed him more than you were allowed to admit. Luke was a sore spot at camp, but hey, right now that was not your problem. You knew you were probably disgracing your family by being here doing what you were doing, or WHO you were doing, but you didn't care. You just needed Luke, even if it was just one last time.

When you woke up after a few hours, you wouldn't say you regret it, but maybe it wasn't the best timing. You were facing the window while Luke held you close. You slowly moved his arm from your waist and sat up, seeing the little clothing you had scattered across the room. Crazy night. You untangled yourself from Luke and got redressed. You truly didn't want to leave, but despite everything you couldn't stand with Luke and the war, too many lives would be lost on his behalf. As you made your way to the door Luke woke up,

"So this is it?" You had your hand on the doorknob and turned back to face Luke.

"Yeah," you made eye contact with him, a single tear falling. "It is."

"Goodbye Y/N."

"Goodbye Luke." You made your way out the door and shut it behind you. You took a deep breathe before rushing back to your shared room with Annabeth on the 9th floor. You opened the door, making sure not to make too much noise, except Annabeth wasn't in her bed. You continued walking into the room when the bathroom door opened from behind you.

"And where were you?" Annabeth questioned as she walked out the door.

"With no one!" You said quickly. Annabeth scared the shit out of you. She slightly frowned.

"He's here isn't he? That's why Hermes wanted us to come here?" You just nodded. "Guess it explains the hickies," Annabeth yawned and headed back to her bed. Your face flushed as you ran into the bathroom. Wow.. awkward!!!!

"It was just a goodbye, I'm not joining him," you walked out the bathroom and laid down next to Annabeth. "I can't stand for a war, no matter how much I love him. Or loved."

"Glad you made up your mind, but it's 6AM, can we sleep a little longer?"

You chuckled, "Of course."

[fayeriess]

⋆｡‧₊°♱༺ DIRTY LAUNDRY ༻♱༉‧₊˚.

abby anderson x fem!reader

summary: bitter about having to drag your laundry basket down the street for your weekly wash, you have a not-so-nice first encounter with the girl who's wearing the same band tee as you. the good news? she's the type of girl you only see in your dreams. the bad? she's your roommate's girlfriend.

warnings: modern!au, implied cheating, cheating, alcohol usage, mentions of guilt, slight angst, not proof-read

a/n: a republish of a small little unfinished series from last year. before anyone gets on my head, i promise superheaven was not as viral early last year as it is now lolll ( its one of my favorite bands ) anywho, enjoy almost 8k words of tea.... lmk what you think, i love getting feedback!

You were precisely three hundred steps away from your destination; a small, collapsing laundromat a couple of blocks from your lackluster apartment. If you widen your short strides just a bit then maybe you’d be able to cut the distance by a few seconds  — maybe, five or ten just to escape the intense rays of the summer sun that beamed down on you.

It was hot enough that the cartilage of your ears were warm to the touch, practically torched by the heat as your fingers ached, feeling as if they were to lock in place at any second from the continuous minutes of strain they had endured. Dirty clothing sat piled in a white, plastic laundry basket, stuffed without care, and unmatched in terms of colors; heavy on the muscles of your arms as you attempted to lift it once more.

The action caused the muscles in your upper back to flex, an ache to accompany the dull throb in protest of the weight that you had tried to pull. A sheen of sweat formed on your forehead; thin enough for you to wipe away with the back of your hand as you puff your cheeks out, letting out a dramatic huff of air. 

After you had straightened your back from being hunched over, the heat seemed to creep through you in the form of a dry throat and sticky skin, bare skin trapped under molecules of heat, and clothing damp from the unrelenting ball of fire in the sky. You couldn’t help but let your lips press into a thin line at the feeling of embarrassment starting to burn up on your bare neck, spreading but unseen to the eyes. The band tee you wore did little to shield your self-consciousness, your tension-filled aura seemingly spreading a transparent mist as you resorted to dragging the basket across the uneven concrete of the sidewalk. 

Twenty more steps and you’d be able to melt away under the cool blast of the dusty air conditioner. It was better than nothing.

“Do you need some help?” 

The voice was one laced with curiosity, a certain playfulness entwined within it as you kept your gaze locked on the tips of your worn shoes. 

A second passed by — two seconds, before you shook your head in refusal, pushing wisps of hair out of your face and behind your ear with a finger on your right hand. “No, I think I can manage.” 

A dry chuckle reached your ears and that’s what finally caused you to glance at the stranger who had so kindly offered you a helping hand. 

She was tall. Her shoulders were broad, and her arms bulky but sculpted so perfectly, the thought that she had to be a bodybuilder had crossed the expanse of your brain. Hell, she had ‘athlete’ written all over here as she towered over you, shielding your frame from the sun, giving you a much-needed break from its unintentional abuse. 

In one of her large hands, she held a small bag, a half-eaten empanada taking refuge within the greasy paper staining her fingers in an orange hue that could only be from blotches of oil that littered it. 

Her blonde hair cascaded down her back in a fishtail braid, tendrils of it framing her sun-kissed, freckled face as her blue eyes scanned across the expression you tried to mask with confidence; albeit the very lame effort to do so. 

You watched as she raised a brow, eying your clammy palms that circled one of the short, white handles of the basket that was filled to the brim with clothing. She couldn’t help but assume that you were someone who waited last minute to do things due to your frazzled state, although she internally slapped herself for criticizing someone when she knew for a fact that she wasn’t in any position to do so. She was way worse.

That’s why she was here too, was it not?

“Doesn’t seem like you’re doing such a good job.” 

Immediately after those words were pushed past her lips, she pulled them back in a grimace; realizing just how rude it sounded even though it was unintentional. 

With your eyebrows furrowed at the jab, you scoffed with a not-so-nice murmur under your breath before pulling on the basket once more, rushing to move away from the rude stranger awkwardly as her gaze burned into your already heated skin. 

Why had that comment bothered you so much? You didn’t know.

 But your sour mood was rubbing off on her, you noticed, as she had rolled her eyes before cocking her neck to the left, then to the right to a row of parked cars before her eyes locked on a trash can a couple of feet behind you. She had retreated out of your line of vision, a shuffle of noise being picked up by your ears before a whoosh of air had weaved itself between your now empty hands. 

It was only then when you had blinked your dry eyes that you noticed the basket was missing, having been scooped up in her broad arms with ease as she held it in one hand and pulled on the rusting, metal handle of the laundromat glass door with the other, the bell above it ringing loudly as she turned to look at your awkwardly stiff frame stood in the middle of the sidewalk. 

“Are you comin’?” 

It didn’t take a genius to sense the hesitance that was harbored within you as you continued to stand there, the sun illuminating you in a light glow before you started to move your feet toward her. 

Moving past her, you inhaled the faint scent of her — earthy yet comforting; with a hint of cinnamon mixed with sandalwood and clean soap. Turning your head, you found yourself in dimmer lighting and a cooler atmosphere, glad to finally be out of the scorching sun. 

“So first you insult my strength and then you find yourself wanting to help me?” 

Surveying the empty laundromat, you could hear the small echo of your voice as you questioned her with curiosity, inhaling the scent of different detergents and fabric softeners. If you squint your eyes hard enough, you could spot the small remnants of chewed gum smoothed into the scuffed flooring as it had practically blended in with it from the lack of maintenance the place had received. 

Seriously, who was running this place?

Turning on the balls of your feet in a means to face her, you watched as she set your laundry basket down in front of a washer with a small thud.  “My goal from the beginning was to help you but I didn’t get my point across in a very polite way, did I?” 

“Hm,” You hummed slowly, pretending to think for a second before lifting your shoulders into a shrug. “No, I guess you didn’t.”

Her lips had lifted into a smirk at your snarky response before she jutted her chin outward, nodding in your direction. “Cool shirt by the way.” 

With lips open and ready to respond to the sudden compliment, your eyes quickly scanned across her attire. Throughout the small interaction, you had seemingly failed to notice the dark muscle shirt she wore. 

Five blue mushrooms with pink stems decorated the front, along with a mint-green snake wrapped around the mushroom in the middle. The words ‘Superheaven’ took all the attention in big, bold lettering in a shade similar to Indigo Blue — but not quite the exact color. 

Looking down at your own, you realized that you were wearing the same shirt, and a twinge of interest sparked up in you.

“You listen to Superheaven?” 

The girl raised an eyebrow, “Asking me personal questions already and I don’t even know your name.” 

Rolling your eyes for what was the hundredth time today, you leaned down to pull the washer door open, shoving a handful of clothes in the small circle hastily before slamming it shut, pushing until you heard the small ‘clink’ of the latch as it was now secure. “It wasn’t a personal question.”

Digging your right hand into one of your back pockets, you retrieved a chipping, neon orange card, inspecting both the front and back side, shrugging in satisfaction at the state of it. 

You silently prayed it worked; as you had found it in the depths of your drawer. It had almost faded into the abyss of all the junk in the dusty area as you stared it down. The contemplation on whether or not to save yourself a couple of dollars for half of the bills of your cracking apartment and risk it not working and being fucked — or — spending the money on a good wash and clean but regret it in the hours of the night where you’d find yourself staring at the ceiling in the darkness of your room, mentally beating yourself up for the path you had taken resulting in your financial choices. 

Thus, here you were, sliding it into the beat-up machine that provided small packets of powdered detergent, inconspicuously crossing your fingers in the hope that there was just enough money in there for you to wash your clothes. “Just one someone else would’ve asked you eventually if they haven’t already.” You continued.

Glancing at her from behind your shoulder, a challenging look crossed your features once you had gotten her attention. “Unless you respond to everyone in the same manner you talked to me in and they were put off by that?”

Turning your head toward the machine again, you pressed the dust-covered buttons for your desired laundry soap, watching the price flash in red on the small screen above the keypad as it dispensed. 

From behind you, she cleared whatever blockage was in her throat, the muscle behind her closed lips clicking against the roof of her mouth as she thought of a retort.

“No, just you.” She confirmed, moving her azure eyes from your frame to focus on the task of shoving all of her clean laundry from the large dryer in a white, plastic garbage bag; the material of it ripping as she tried to stuff every article of clothing she brought with her inside. 

You hummed, nodding your head despite knowing that she wasn’t staring at you. “I still didn’t get your name though.” 

She wiped the layer of sweat forming on her forehead, swiping at it with the back of her hand before dusting the perspiration on the denim of the loose jeans covering her thighs. “Abby.” 

It was a curt reply to your statement. A simple — but sweet and short answer that caused the corners of your plump lips to quirk up in a lop-sided smile as you bent down, outstretching your arm to grab the small packet of laundry detergent before retreating to your clothing.

“Okay Abby,” A satisfied look crossed over your features as you decided that you liked the way it sounded after it rolled off the tip of your tongue. It suited her just a tad, even though it wasn’t the first guess you would’ve made if she had asked you to play that sort of guessing game with her. “So, judging by the shirt, I’m assuming you listen to Superheaven?” 

Opening the small, built-in compartment in the washer for the soap, you poured half of the packet, figuring it was just enough to get the job done before closing it. A couple of feet away from you, you could hear the taller girl shuffle around before she sat on one of the chipping wooden chairs; the object creaking with a small groan under all of her weight. 

Watching as she shrugged, you noticed how her tongue broke through her once-closed lips, moisturizing them before she cocked her head to the side. “Kind of? I mean, my girlfriend does. She was the one who got me into them.” 

Your finger stopped above the button to start up the machine only for a fraction of a second before you pushed inward, a small beeping noise filling the tension-filled silence before a rush of water signaled the start of your cycle. 

Settling for a lame, “Oh, nice!” you awkwardly leaned against the dusty metal of the vibrating machine, looking at her freckled face, flushed and shiny with sweat as she focused all her attention on tying the second knot of the bag.

 The old, rusty air conditioning did little to cool the temperature of your body as you glanced around the stuffy area, sniffing lightly from the particles of dust floating in front of you, disturbed from the palm of your hand slapping onto the surface of cool metal behind you. 

Abby kept her eyes locked on the torn trash bag as she stood from her position, back cracking slightly as she stretched her limbs, letting the blood flow regularly through her veins once more. “What’s your favorite song by them?”

“Uh,” You paused, biting on your lower lip, scanning your brain for the songs you remembered from their discography which was only about two albums long. “ it’s gotta be their most known one, I'm not gonna lie.”

Abby hitched the bag over her shoulder without struggle, biceps flexing as she snapped her fingers before holding her other hand out to stop you from uttering your next sentence. “Wait, don’t tell me. Is it, uhh…” She thought for a couple of seconds, pushing wisps of blonde hair that had fallen in front of her eyes behind her ear; opting to angle her mouth to blow them away when that temporary solution didn’t work. “... ‘Youngest Daughter?’”

“Close, ‘Life in a Jar’.” 

“I was on the right track, though.” 

You scoffed playfully, craning your neck in the direction of the impending darkness that awaited you outside, the sun low on the horizon and casting a warm glow of gentle light into the dim, dreary, place. 

“By all means, don’t let me hold you up either.” You expressed, gesturing to the bag over her shoulder which she seemed to momentarily forget about with parted lips, raising both brows in surprise that there was even something in her hand.

It came as a shock to you when she had set it down with a small ‘thud’ once more, pulling her phone out of her back pocket a minute after as it had quietly buzzed in the space of her jeans, warm on both sides from being trapped against two heat sources. You watched with bated breath as she sat again, thumbs furiously typing away on the screen, her lips all but pressed together into a thin line. 

Turning back to your clothing being tossed about in the wash, you focused on the suds of soap sloshing around the hazy water, clusters of bubbles forming before they’d be ripped apart by the force of the splattering water. 

“I was gonna stay here and chat a little longer, but I’m needed elsewhere.” Her words pulled you out of your spinning thoughts, your bottom eyelashes fluttering against your skin as you blinked, clearing your throat.

Before you could speak, the bell above the door rang, and she was out the door with a small ‘it was nice meeting you’ left in her wake as slammed shut behind her, leaving her scent and the previous conversation lingering.

And then you were alone.

━━━━ ◦: ✧✲✧ :◦━━━━

Standing behind the kitchen island, you squeezed the damp, wet rag between nimble fingers, the muscles in your bicep straining to scrub at a particularly stubborn stain on the counter that refused to leave. 

Over these past couple of days, an overwhelming sense of guilt has consumed you. Guilt for thinking about Abby. 

Whenever her face flashed as if it were a film on the reel of your mind, you thought about the short, meaningless interaction you had to remind yourself that she was just a stranger being nice.

Nothing more, nothing less.

So, why exactly did her name bounce in the space of your brain in big lettering, screaming for attention? 

You had no idea. 

Sighing dramatically, you grasped one of the sharp edges of the cool, marble counter with your left hand, scrubbing at the same spot with your right furiously. 

“Are you okay?” 

Freezing in your tracks, you titled your head up to come face-to-face with your roommate, Lorelai, observing how the once relaxed muscles under her smooth skin contorted into that a worried expression as her bare feet padded against the wood flooring. Her eyes never left yours even when she lifted a hand to pull the refrigerator door open, curling her fingers around the handle as she turned her torso to face you. 

You nodded, darting your eyes from side to side as you dropped the rag onto the island, discarding it before leaning your lower back against the edge to fully show your interest in the arising conversation. 

“Yeah. Why?”

Lorelai shrugged nonchalantly, bending down to get a better look at all the drink choices available in your limited supply of groceries; some of which were close to being unusable due to upcoming expiration dates. “I figured I’d ask 'cause you’ve been a little spaced out these last couple of days.” 

Pulling out a half gallon of Orange Juice, she closed the fridge door before making her way to one of the many cupboards in the kitchen, grabbing a glass, and rinsing it with faucet water. 

Tapping your short fingers against the polished marble, you spoke. “I just have a couple of things on my mind, but really, I’m good.” 

You had met Lorelai in your senior year of high school; having sat next to each other in chemistry class unwillingly as you were given assigned seats for the semester. While others sulked with their seating partners, you and the brunette hit it off as soon as her butt touched the chair. She was an extrovert; a bit on the chatty side, wanting to cover any and every ground possible in terms of socializing without crossing any boundaries. As sweet as she was, the girl who only stood at a mere five foot three deemed herself to be just as scholarly, graduating top of her class and valedictorian. 

From then on, you two were stuck at the hip. Spending all three months of summer after graduation vacationing to wherever your near-empty wallets, and even emptier bank accounts allowed. 

She was your best friend; so much so that after your sophomore year in college, you made the big decision to move in together.

She scoffed, rolling her eyes playfully before gulping a large sip of her extra pulp-filled orange juice. “Yeah, okay.” 

She resolved to put her short glass in the sink once she got to it, “So, you know how I uh,”

Her lips pressed into a thin line as if she was debating on letting her next words slide past them. 

After a couple of seconds of her silence, you slowly raised a brow, cocking your neck to the side as tendrils of hair tickled the skin of your shoulder through the material of your shirt; an involuntary shiver being sent down your spine at the movement.

The gasp that left you when she quickly whipped around was low, reverberating in the back of your throat when she stared at you with wide eyes. 

“I have a girlfriend and she’ll be here in like five minutes. I didn’t wanna tell you 'cause I know how you go into mom mode making sure the apartment is clean and I didn’t want you to feel stressed, especially since it’s just her.” 

Parted lips turned into a slack, achy jaw as you took in the rush of words she threw at you in the form of a confession. The cogs in your brain turned a little too painstakingly slowly, your eyes narrowing into slits as her rant hit you right across your face. “Oh, my god.” You chuckled. The noise develops into a maniacal laugh, then you gasped dramatically, “Oh my god!” 

This was her very first relationship. Ever. And you were freaking the fuck out.

For as long as you had known Lorelai; she kept the possibility of meeting someone in a romantic aspect within arms reach; coming to the conclusion that it was something she’d commit herself to once she was ready to make that big of a leap — you guessed this would be the point in her life where that leap was being taken. 

For that, curiosity gnawed at you greedily as you found yourself desperately wanting to know who exactly had her on her high horse; apples of her cheeks rosy with admiration, an equally love-drunk smile and a few extra skips in her already peppy step. 

But as you went to speak, to let your questions flow out of you as the metaphorical dams had been picked up from your mind, letting you gather yourself; there were three, sharp knocks at the front door. 

With a giddy smile on her face, Lorelai ran in place for a couple of seconds, ridding herself of the burst of energy as she looked from you, to the door, then back to you again. “She’s here,” 

Looking down at your attire, you decided that short shorts and a crop top wasn’t suitable enough to be meeting a girlfriend — let alone your best friends, so you pointed a thumb back to your room, heart beating erratically against your ribcage.

 “I’m gonna go change. Open the door.” You whispered, scurrying back to the confines of your bedroom and closing the door behind you. Looking around, you blew out a breath, eying the pink dresser to your right, a couple of feet away from the foot of your bed before shuffling toward it to yank open the third drawer down. 

Ransacking for a pair of sweats seemed to be a hard task on this night out of all nights as you grew increasingly annoyed at the lack of pants you had stumbled upon. The pressure of presenting yourself for Lorelai’s sake in a timely manner compacting tightly, as if to signal that you were treading on thin ice. Loud muffled laughter could be heard, a sound that was slightly foreign to your ears as you shook your head, rifling deeper into your drawer as if it were a bottomless pit.

Seriously, you just fucking washed laundry too.

Your hands ghosted across the waistband of your blue shorts, fingers yanking the material down as to rid yourself of the article of clothing. Sighing to yourself, you bent down to step out of the thin cotton material, throwing it somewhere in your room for you to find later before adjusting the lace of your thong.

 It was one of your favorites; all white with small, red cherries patterned across with a lace waistband. You had gotten it on a self-care day, something that you had spoiled yourself with once in a blue moon for all the hard studying you do. Plus, there was a sale at the local mall in Victoria's Secret; Lorelai had all but dragged you right into it as soon as her brown eyes fell on the sale sign.

Shimmying on your sweats, you were able to pull them up to your ankles before a sudden rush of air hit your ass, goosebumps rising on the once smooth, blemished skin there as you grew stiff, the hairs on your arms raising, tickling the flesh covering your body in a taunting manner as you sighed, preparing to turn yourself around. 

“Lorelai - I said-“

Only it wasn’t your best friend who you were standing half naked in front of; nipples perked through a thin spaghetti strap, lace thong leaving little to the imagination — it was her girlfriend. 

The girlfriend who you saw less than a week ago in the laundromat in all her muscular, blonde-haired glory. 

God, you were fucking mortified.

“Well this isn’t the bathroom.” 

“Obviously not.”

What. 

The. 

Fuck. 

━━━━ ◦: ✧✲✧ :◦━━━━

“She can’t know.”

“Jaime, I can’t kick her out of the apartment for two hours. She lives here too, just a reminder.” With the heat of your cell phone against the tissue of your ear, you maneuvered yourself around the island counter. Bare feet padded against the hardwood of the freshly mopped floors as you opened the freezer door with a free hand, eyes darting across the small space in search of your dinner for tonight. “She’s also not stupid so she’ll know something’s up.”

From the other end of the line, crackling static was all your ears could pick up before she sighed loudly, breaking the beat of silence. “Well, I have to decorate the apartment for her birthday. What kind of friend would I be if I didn't set up a celebration? Can’t you just ask her girlfriend to take her to do shit? Unless she’s one of those whacko types of people. God, I hate buzzkills.”

Rolling your eyes, you outstretched an arm into the coolness of the frosted freezer, digging out a pint of unbranded mint chocolate chip ice cream. “I’m pretty sure she has a couple of things planned. From what I’ve seen so far she’s in good hands.”

“Okay, so what I’m hearing is that the girlfriend’s cool, and there isn’t an issue with her keeping Lorelai out of the way.” Her chirpy voice held a hint of a smile as she shuffled about. You assumed she was gathering her things; keys, purse, charger, and the decorations she had hoarded up in a brown, cardboard box for the past two weeks for this occasion. 

Jaime was a good friend. That was evident from the numerous times she’s run to your side, consoling you in the instances that you’ve cried due to personal happenings… and the group of individuals she’d hang out with. Truthfully, the capacity of your brain couldn’t comprehend the exact reason as to why she rubbed shoulders with who she did, mostly because they had money; something Jaime was practically swimming neck-deep in.

You shrugged, an action accompanied by the edges of your lips which turned into a frown as you focused your attention on the plastic lid of the container, peeling it off with your right hand, the phone still sandwiched between your ear and shoulder blade. “Yeah, Abby’s cool. Bestie approved.”

Abby. 

Three weeks. Three weeks and two days had passed since that bathroom mix-up fiasco, and to say things were tense was putting it lightly, to say the least. After you frantically shooed her away, bent forward and pants mid-thigh, the uncomfortable silence that hung in the air after the door closed had your heart palpitating. It was embarrassing to the point where the blood flowed to your cheeks, causing them to be warm to the touch. When the door had closed after the short exchange of words, you had sat in the corner of your bed, pants still halfway on, and eyes as wide as could be. 

At the time, you had no idea how much time passed when you sat there before finally taking a deep, burning inhalation of breath and pulling the rest of your sweats up your thighs. Wiping your warm, clammy hands on the fabric of them afterward as a means to rid any nervousness and tension that had weaved itself between your muscles. 

Looking back at your past decisions, hiding behind the chipping, wooden door frame that lead to the living room area wasn’t the best idea, as it only made things just a tiny bit more awkward when Lorelai coaxed you from your shell, leaping for you to reveal the look of embarrassment that clouded over your features. The thick fog that compressed your lungs had nearly sent you into cardiac arrest as the three of you stood there in silence, and it had been Lorelai who had been the one to ask if you two knew each other, taking notice of your body language. 

It was Abby who had nonchalantly shrugged and said that the both of you had met a week prior at the laundromat, leaning against one of the countertops, muscles bulging from underneath the t-shirt she wore. 

This was truly a revelation to you and an unexpected one at that.

Out of all people. It had to be her. It had to be Abby.

Shaking your head, you rolled your eyes at how peppy you sounded, setting down your phone on the marble of the island counter. Twisting your body around to pull open one of the many drawers, your fingers flexed, plucking a silver, metal spoon from the small bin, twirling it in your grasp.

Jaime clapped her hands together, mumbling something incoherent to who you assumed was her cat judging from the low, crackled meows that followed. “Nice, I’ll be there in an hour.”

Opening your mouth to interject, you huffed at the beeping that signaled the end of the call, and your very short conversation with Jaime.

 Puffing out your cheeks, you sighed to yourself dramatically, scanning your eyes around the expanse of your shared, empty apartment before stabbing the tip of your spoon in the lush green of the cream, scooping up an extra chocolate chip or two along the way.

It was just you and your thoughts.

 On any other day, you would’ve enjoyed it, sitting in silence; listening to the muffled chirps of the birds outside hidden in green shrubs, the whoosh of wind ruffling trees, and the constant honk of horns at the end of the street. It was a thinking period, a time when you’d plan out your day without having to worry about anything  — or anyone. 

Clearing certain things from your consciousness was a talent, and you pride yourself in your ability to tune out things. It was something Lorelai had learned to live with these past couple of years, even though it still annoyed her to no end. 

Practically throwing yourself onto one of the three wooden stools lined up against the outer end of the island. It creaked beneath you when you leaned back, causing the skin of your lips to pull back into a grimace as you continued to sulk in the presence of nobody else but yourself. 

Shoveling the cold spoon in the warmness of your mouth, the mint flavor seeped onto your tastebuds, melting as you swallowed. The enamels of your teeth were cold from the contact they had with the dairy, a slight throb forming near your gums when you took another bite. 

You had no choice but to text Abby, even though you were deciding against it. After all, you didn’t want Lorelai’s surprise to be ruined and Jaime to hit you upside the head for neglecting the only task you’d been assigned. 

So, with the slightest bit of hesitance, you left your spoon in the container and picked up your phone from the counter, typing in your six-digit password and scrolling through your messages to find her name. 

Her number had been given to you last weekend by Abby herself, who had awkwardly pulled you aside and silently passed you her phone, the contact info option already open, as well as the keypad. Just as you should’ve been — you were confused, very confused. 

In every crevice and dark corner of your mind, there should’ve been a reason as to why exactly she wanted your number, but that question quickly left your mind when you looked at her freckled face, and long, fluttering lashes.

Fuck.

Biting the inside of your cheek, you let your fingers hover over the keyboard as you organized the right words to text in your brain, the sentence a jumbled mess. 

“ decorating the house for lorelai :) keep her occupied for an hour or so, please!”

“ for sure. what time do I bring her back? “

“ four?? I don’t know, around there. “

Receiving a thumbs up back in response, you pressed one of the side buttons, clicking off the screen. 

━━━━ ◦: ✧✲✧ :◦━━━━

“Happy Birthday!” The numerous voices shouted with you, all facing toward the front door where Lorelai stood, Abby in tow. 

It had been three hours since Jaime burst through the door, the box of decorations in hand, giddy with excitement at the opportunity to execute her vision. She had shoved the brown box into your hand, asking you to set it down on the coffee table in the living room as she spun on her heel to start, babbling about where things should go. 

The decoration process went more smoothly than anticipated, and it was because you had just stood in the corner the entire time, watching curiously as she set the house up for the occasion. 

Once Jaime started something, you just had to leave all the work to her, or else it wouldn’t turn out how she envisioned.

“What the fuck? Oh, my god!” Lorelai’s face morphed into one of surprise, a smile overtaking her lips as she clasped her hands together in front of her. “You guys did this all for me?”

From beside you, Jaime raised her hand, “No, just me. C’mere you big goober.” 

The space she once occupied was empty as she met Lorelai in the kitchen area, embracing her in a tight hug before letting her go. 

You watched from your spot near the arm of the couch, as Lorelai’s eyes darted from every party guest and straight to you, a big, lop-sided smile gracing her face as she made her way over to you. 

Your lips curled upward in response, arms outstretched to hold her in your arms. She smelled like freesia and cotton candy perfume, something comforting to you, but not to the point where you could feel all the guilt melting away. 

It was hot on your skin, burning you alive and tainting your very existence, starting from the outside. 

You were a bad friend. A fucking horrible one for thinking about her girlfriend, who looked at you from behind Lorelai’s shoulder with a toothy grin, her irises practically boring into yours. 

“Happy Birthday, Lai.” You muttered quietly into her ear, cheeks warming once she pulled away to look you in the eyes. They were swimming with adoration — something you didn’t deserve.

“Thank you.” She expressed over the chatter, hands interlaced with yours as she swung them from side to side. “This year’s birthday is tied with last year's so far.”

At that, you snorted. “So indoor drinking is better than the carnival I took you to?”

Her brown hair fell over her shoulder as she cocked her head to the side, and just as she opened her mouth to answer, Abby appeared next to her, guiding a hand to the small of Lorelai’s back.

“This looks nice,” Tilting her head to look at the colorful eyesore of streamers, she pressed her tongue against the inside of her cheek, letting her eyes travel from the ceiling to the walls that were littered with pink balloons. A large “HAPPY BIRTHDAY” sign hung across the width of the wall-mounted flat screen tv, decorated with heart stickers to, in Jaime’s words, ‘make it more noticeable.’ although you doubted anyone beside you, her, Lorelai, and Abby had taken the time to look at.

Nodding your head, you fiddled with a loose string at the end of the blouse you had changed into, something a little more modest than you’d usually go for, but cute nonetheless. “Yeah, Jaime did a good job.”

The fast-paced clicking of heels had you turning your head in the direction of the sound. Jaime stood with four wine coolers in her hands, dangling them in the air from the necks as she outstretched one of her arms. 

“I heard my name, so I came with drinks.” 

You narrowed your eyes, the gears in your head turning as you tried to decipher what brand rested in her shaky hands, smiling widely once you realized what they were. “I can never say no to Mike’s Hard.” 

Abby nudged you playfully, nodding her head to agree with you as she took the two glass bottles from Jaime’s left hand. “In my top five.”

Snorting, you turned to her, jaw agape. “Top five? You have horrible taste. Top three at least.”

She shook her head, tendrils of hair falling from her usual fish braid. “My top three spaces are reserved for the hard shit only.”

Rolling your eyes, you shooed her off, watching as she handed Lorelai one of the bottles, leaning down to whisper something in her ear, which earned her a giggle from the brunette as she slapped her bicep.

Averting your gaze from the pair, you sighed, grabbing one of the bottles Jaime held out to you, and popping the cap open with your shirt. Wasting no time, you chugged half of it down, the cool liquid soothing the dryness in your throat before removing it from your lips, licking the saccharine sweetness that lingered.

“Why the fuck are we all standing in a circle? I have a game of beer pong set up in the kitchen, let’s go birthday girl.” Taking her hand, Jaime dragged your best friend to the island counter, initiating a conversation with two other kids from campus for what you assumed was the game. 

You weren’t sure who connected their phone to the portable speaker, but you were grateful that it was no longer silent, especially with the building tension between you and the muscular girl next to you. 

“So,” Abby began, leaning against the wall, leg crossed over the other, “I kind of wanted to talk to you about something.” 

Taking another swig from your bottle, you pulled your eyes away from the crowd sitting on the couches, a very intense match of uno taking place. 

It took everything in you to stare at her straight-faced, despite your curiosity. What could she possibly want to talk to you about? 

“Yeah?”

You watched cautiously as she focused on the miniature opening of her alcohol bottle, index finger tracing the rim once — twice — three times before she puffed out her cheeks, sighing. “Did I do something?” 

“What?”

She lifted her shoulders in a shrug, “I don’t know. I’m trying to be friends with you and it seems like that’s not what you want from me. If it’s about what happened a couple of weeks ago, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to embarrass you.”

Turning your body to face her, you noticed the rosy tint that consumed the apples of her cheeks, beet red and burning. “What common interests do we have other than Lorelai that calls for us to be more than just acquaintances? And I wasn’t embarrassed, I was mortified.”

A dry, airy laugh made its way past her lips. “You and me both.”

“Didn’t seem like you were.” 

“Oh, I was.”

You downed the rest of your ‘Mike’s Hard’, lifting it to your face to observe the label. It was something to keep yourself busy to not stare at her again. Because, fuck, if you stared at her again, you were sure you’d go into cardiac arrest.

“Besides that, as I said, there isn’t a reason for us to be friends.”

Abby raised an eyebrow, staring at you with a hint of curiosity swimming in her eyes. “You said we don’t have any other common interests besides Lorelai, I don’t think that’s the case. What about Superheaven?”

You were surprised, even if your face didn’t show it. She hadn’t forgotten that meaningless three-week-old conversation? Interesting.

“See, the only common interest we have.”

“No, we still have Mike’s Hard to talk about.” She pressed, eliciting a low laugh from you. 

“What? You want us to discuss our favorite flavors?”

Abby clicked her tongue against the roof of her mouth, “That depends on if you want me to get you another drink or not.”

If this was her attempt at trying to pry a conversation out of you, she succeeded. 

“...Okay, surprise me.”

━━━━ ◦: ✧✲✧ :◦━━━━

As seconds turned into minutes, and minutes turned into hours, your crowd of friends retired home for the night.

 That left you, Lorelai, and Abby alone in the apartment, separated by walls and your figure hunched over the toilet. 

Mentally, you were slapping yourself at the excessive amount of drinks you consumed throughout the night on an empty stomach. And the cold sweat you were in made it all the more worse for you. 

Lorelai had gotten violently drunk, stumbling all over the place, words slurred and incomprehensible, the world slowly spinning. She was always a clingy drunk. That was evident from the multiple times she had hugged you and Abby throughout the night, drunkenly expressing how much she cared for the both of you, switching between holding both of your faces in the palm of her hands. 

Her actions pierced your soul. She had been nothing but kind to you, showering you with positive affirmations and listening to your rants about things that bothered you, because she cared, she always did. 

You did too, but not in the way she did for you. 

Unlike you, she considered people’s feelings. Especially when it came to relationships, and unbeknownst to her, you were slowly weaseling your way into hers. 

It wasn’t like you wanted to. As the days turned into nights and the process repeated itself, you tried damn near everything you could to get her girlfriend out of your mind. You failed — miserably. 

Clutching the sides of the ceramic toilet, your stomach empties its contents, causing your mouth to taste sour and the saliva to pool at the surface of your tongue, bringing you to swallow back the bile. 

You gasped at the unforeseen knock at the bathroom door, brushing a hand through the knots in your hair. 

“Yeah?” Clearing your throat at how hoarse you sounded, you could hear Abby’s muffled laced with concern as she spoke.

“Are you okay? I heard you throwing up so I brought you some water.” 

Setting your butt down on the tile flooring once again, you brought your knees up to your chest, closing your eyes to see if that would make you feel any better. “I’m fine. You can come in.”

Her broad figure stood in the doorway, a bottle of water swallowed by her right hand as she pursed her lips, closing the door quietly behind her. She stared at you for a couple of seconds, ocean-blue eyes searching your face for any sign of discomfort.

“Don’t look at me like that.” You snapped.

“Like what?”

“Like you’re judging me for not knowing my limits.”

Her face scrunched up, the skin there creasing, as if she ate something sour. “What? I wasn’t looking at you like that. I just wanted to make sure you were okay.” Bending her knees, she leaned down until she was face to face with you. 

You swallowed thickly, “Where’s Lorelai?” 

Abby lifted a hand to scratch the back of her neck, biceps flexing as she did so. “She’s sleeping. I got her changed and put her to bed.” 

You opened your mouth, “Oh.” 

“Yeah, you should probably lie down, too.”

Waving a hand in her direction, you lazily shooed her off. “No, I-”

There it was. You making an embarrassment of yourself, vomiting for the third time in the toilet bowl, spitting, and pressing down on the handle to flush.

“See, I told you.” She chuckled, amused at your stubbornness and the fact that your face had turned an unappealing shade of green. 

The blonde took the initiative to hold your hair back as you threw up again, liquid this time as you had filled yourself with nothing but alcohol and ice cream earlier on in the day. 

She didn’t know why she was sitting in here with you, you were fine, you could take care of yourself. She should be with her girlfriend, already tucked beneath a thick, warm comforter, drifting off into sleep. 

But here she was instead, with you — someone who she assumed harbored some sort of dislike for her.

To her, that was unfortunate because after she had left the laundromat the day you two met, you were all she could think about. She was filled to the brim with guilt, even without knowing who you were, and when she found out  — hell, it made the battle in her mind ten times worse.

She watched as you lifted your head, tilting your head back against the coolness of the wall, hoping to at least lessen your sickness slightly to eventually pick yourself up from the floor and drag yourself to the confines of your bedroom. 

This was enough for today.

Uncapping the cold, plastic bottle, you let the stream of water slide down your throat, gulping mouthful after mouthful until you were satisfied.

“Thanks.”

“Anytime.”

Abby didn’t know why, but she found her limbs moving without her mind catching up to match her actions, hands on either side of her cheeks, thumb brushing over her cheekbones, feeling the heat of your flushed skin against her own. 

She was full of surprises today, and you weren’t prepared for the last one of the night.

It concluded with the flesh of her warm, chapped lips against your cold, wet ones, despite the numerous times you dipped your head in the toilet. 

And just like the bad friend you are, you kissed her back, hard enough to knock her off the tips of her toes and onto her bottom as it came in contact with the tile of the bathroom floor.

She pulled away, looking you straight in your eyes without a hint of guilt giving away how she felt right now, but the hammering of her heart against her ribcage gave you the answer you needed.

“What’re you doing to me?”

[liliamoon]

Chaotic Teacher Quotes

Because I just finished my degree, I compiled a list of some of my favorite things my professors have said this past semester:

“To shower or not to shower, that is the question.”

“My parents were baby boomers, which means they were on drugs and had sex and that’s how I happened.” “I’m not kidding. That’s true.”

“Ok, how does everyone feel about nostrils?”

“I like to remind my wife that she’s older than me. Every year on my birthday I’m like, oh my god, I’m almost as old as you!”

“That’s the best way to learn: forget and then remember. The only better way is to learn it drunk and then learn it sober. …Grad school is a lot of fun.”

“Is Dungeons & Dragons legit as a religious institution? Let’s discuss.”

“Punxsutawney Phil, the little beaver— not a beaver, the, you know, the marmot, HE DIED. I mean, what does that mean for our weather?? If he sees his shadow it’s six more weeks of winter but WHAT IF HE DIES??”

“We can’t have negative time— if it’s negative, you’re dead. Just like the groundhog.”

“Are we ultimately born of divine incest?”

“This whole thing is complex, very convoluted. But so is my sister, and I still love her.”

“You might ask yourself, what do I do with a big chunk of text? In many cases, the first step is to burn it with fire.”

“This is good information for those of you thinking of starting a cult.”

“I drive a stick-shift, you can’t steal my car. If you look at the thing, you wouldn’t want to, but the point is, you CAN’T.” “It’s got nothing, I almost literally have to go out with a lighter and turn on the headlights myself.”

“Do you think we could rewrite The Lord of the Rings in limerick meter? Potentially a good idea for your finals.”

“Does that freak anyone out? If it doesn’t, you might not be paying attention!!!”

“Here we read that Tiamat and Apsu had ‘mixed their waters together’— I guess that’s what the kids call it these days.”

“You know how in America we’re very vulnerable to British accents?”

“If you know what you’re doing, it’ll take about thirty minutes; if you don’t know what you’re doing, maybe forty; and if you really don’t know what you’re doing, it’ll take five.”

“Cockroaches gonna cockroach, everybody with me?”

“Right now I’m being a pain-in-the-ass materialist.” “You feel? Hold the phone.” “Conscience? What do we do with people who don’t have that? Like me.”

“Who here is familiar with the term ‘shitification’?”

“Academia is like a hospital: if you don’t work there, don’t stick around.”

“I always want you all to walk out of this classroom with a little bit more of the weight of despair on your shoulders.” “Are you feeling it?”

[lookingformoondrop]

FINALLY SOMEONE WHO WRITES FOR THE COFFIN OF ANDY AND LEYLEY!!!!! THANK YOU <33333

Gonna ask some relationship hc w leyley!! It could be yandere if you like (I mean she is one already but-yk)

Ashley Graves X gn!reader - Relationship Headcannons

TW: Ashley is manipulative, she's a red flag but I'm colorblind, everyone has a foul mouth, mentions of cheating and kissing, Ashley is very emotionally dependent.

♥︎ Notes: I thought about making Ashley a yandere, but then I reflected on what Anon said and thought... they're right, LOL. I'm always happy to supply content for TCOAAL, and I really appreciate everyone who takes the time to request! I hope these meet your expectations. <3♥︎

Ashley Graves is impulsive, stubborn, cleverly stupid, and a pain in the ass.

If I had to describe dating Ashley I'd say it's like riding a roller coaster but never knowing when it'll drop.

When you first met her, you were blinded by her beauty (her tits) and decided to walk up to her for a number.

She was flustered that someone was interested in her, sure she's had people walk up to her before, but it was because they were always more interested in her brother than her.

But once she realized you were in it for her, she never let you go again.

It started with frequent house visits. She'd sleep over without asking, and just like a stray-cat that cuddles up to you, you couldn't say no.

She'd try to cook you for you! Every morning where she aserted herself into your day, you'd wake up to the wonderful smell of burning shit. When you went to your kitchen with a loving fire extinguisher in your hands, you'd see she was cooking eggs and some unidentified meat.

You'd walk up behind her and kiss the nape of her neck, never telling her you're only doing this because her hair smells like cherries and if you don't you're pretty sure you'll pass out from the smoke.

"Y/N, why is there a fire extinguisher in your hands?"

"Early Christmas."

"Liar."

Dates were fun, too! Even though you'd organize the actual dates like eating out, going to amusement parsl, carnivals, and the like, her dates would be along the lines of staying at home and cuddling. You might call it boring, but to Ashley, a perfect date would be where you're both left alone with only eachother to give company.

No one, and I mean NO ONE, would be able to see her precious Y/N except her.

And not that you minded anyways, you enjoyed spending time with Ashley, even if half that time was her being exhausting.

Speaking of which, exhausting, you ask? How is little ol' Ashley exhausting?

Be it a nice co-worker, a pleasant stranger, a funny waiter, or even that woman who works at the deli that gives you that cheap vegan processed ham with bacon bits, Ashley hated the fact you even acknowledged them.

It often became her favorite topic to annoy you with.

While cuddling on the couch (iykyk), Ashley began to look at you with intense eyes. You knew what these eyes meant. It was a warning sign that she was about to ask you something that could potentially piss you off. Of course, she didn't care about that part, all you needed to know was she was going to ask and you'd better be honest.

"N/M, do you love me?"

"Sure I do, you're my girlfriend after all."

Ashley wrapped her arms around your neck a little tighter, "So then," her face darkened, "would you ever cheat on me?"

You sighed, this line of questioning was becoming less and less of the 'would you love me if I was a worm' deal and more of the 'whose that bitch you were talking to' deal.

"No, Ashley, I wouldn't. Why would you feel the need to ask me that?"

Ashley raised her head from your chest and opened her mouth, her final statement ready to fire,

"So then why do you still look at other people if you would never cheat?" Her eyes narrowed on you.

You groaned and rubbed your temples, "Jesus Ashley, now I can't even have simple eye contact with people?"

She blew a breath of annoyance, "why would you even make eye contact?! I'm the only one you should be looking at, N/M!"

You went to push Ashley off of you, already sick of her shit.

"No! Do you even still love me?! All you do is go to work, go to school, hang out with your stupid friends, and ignore me!"

"I'm not doing this with you AGAIN, Ashley! Just because I know or talk to other people does not mean I'm screwing them! Jesus Ashley, you would think we'd be over this by now..."

Ashley pouted and blinked the tears in her eyes away, "...fine. leave me then, see if I care."

She sits up and goes to the opposite end of the couch.

"You're sitting on my feet, Ashley."

Ashley turned her head away and ignored you.

You hated it when she got her way, but you also couldn't stand to see her so upset. After all, she was only upset because she missed you.

Sighing with defeat you said softly, "I'm sorry I don't pay enough attention to you, Leyley. Life distracts me sometimes, but that doesn't mean I don't still love you. This weekend I'll cancel with my friends and we can go on a date. "

She hummed, "id rather we stay in and watch a movie."

"Which movie?" You coax your girlfriend for a smile,

"...Hypergore Splatterbrains 4," She looked at you and grinned.

"There's my pretty girl," you wrapped an arm around her waist, "alright, you happy now? Will you stop bitching about people in my life who I will NEVER cheat on you with?"

She brought a finger to her bottom lip, "Nah, maybe a kiss will convince me?"

She looked at you with a devious smirk, you sighed. "Cmere you," Ashley giggled and jumped on top of you, sharing a loving kiss.

Yeah, Ashley is exhausting.

But in a way, you're happy she's yours. You couldn't be happier, even if her cooking skills are shit, she's a tad bit possessive, and she leaves passive aggressive notes in your lunchbox when you go to work.

You love her either way.

"Hey N/M?"

"Yeah?"

"Do you love me?"

You sighed with content and wrapped your arms around her waist, "Yes Leyley, I love you. Do you love me?"

Ashley laid her head on your chest, listening to your heartbeat,

"I love you, N/M~"

Thank you for the ask!<3

[odysseyeurobeat]

Literally just me gushing about eurobeat

Y'know what? Tumblr, you get a little treat. I don't have much better of a place to post something long-winded like this, so here we are.

I love eurobeat music. Big surprise from the girl with it in her handle, right? But I don't just love one kind of eurobeat. No, I'd go so far as to say I love it all. This genre becomes an absolute buffet of delightful, energetic, silly fun when you forget about trying to look for ways it "doesn't count", and try to look for the ways it does.

I love early eurobeat! I love the stuff that's indistinguishable from early Italo Disco, the formative things where the tempo was still low and the disco vibes were still high! That's Eurobeat and the first few volumes of Super Eurobeat are great for this!

I love later eurobeat, too! Even if some of the sounds aren't always my favorites, I love that folks were trying new things and dabbling with new sounds, experimenting in ways that in previous years seemed prohibited! Comparing some aliases who have been going for multiple decades from this period to when they started is also super fun!

I love traditional eurobeat, if I could pick a name for it! Faster, more rave-influenced, whether or not it's still got some disco elements in it, themes about nightclubs and love and loss and betrayal and that ever-ubiquitous fire! Maharajah Night has some great examples, leading into the bulk of pre-200 Super Eurobeat volumes!

I love J-Euro! It turns out, folks in Japan have different ideas and tastes and approach the genre VERY differently than the folks in Italy do, and I love how it sounds! I love how the sound design is so different and the speed jumps a little higher!

I love indie eurobeat! I love hearing how new and amateur producers take a crack at the sound, and seeing what folks do as the tools for making it grow and evolve! Even virtual versions of the synths the masters used to use are available now, and it's fantastic to hear how those things sound in new hands! I love the ways indie producers bend, break, and work around the rules of the genre and still deliver a uniquely "eurobeat" experience! Without this category, I would never have found DJ Command, DJ Bouche, Turbo, Vikas Beatbox, the Galaxian Recordings crew, and so, so many more!

I love happy eurobeat! The nature of the genre makes it so straightforward to pair its signature energy with joy, delight, empowerment!

I love sad eurobeat! That very same energy that powers joy and happiness can be just as powerful for driving home sorrow and sadness, and some lyrics even carry strong emotional weight (we're well past the days of eurobeat being only about Burning Love Car Baby Fire Desire Tonight Drift Tokyo, y'know)!

I love fandom eurobeat! Yup! Vocaloid, Touhou, MLP:FiM, Vtubers; whatever you may be a fan of, chances are good there's a eurobeat remix out there (or even an original) that suits your fancy!

I love Initial D eurobeat! How could I not, right? The classics are classics for a reason, and eurobeat and drift racing are a uniquely fantastic pair. Of all the things eurobeat could be about, it's one of a few that really knock it out of the park!

I love feminine eurobeat! Masculine eurobeat is great too, but it already gets a lot of love in the other categories, so I want to celebrate those eurobeat songs that feel quite the opposite while still being perfectly eurobeat! Eurobeat is broad enough to express feelings like this, too!

I love songs that aren't quite eurobeat, but have elements of it! And I love eurobeat songs that heavily include elements from other genres, too! Eurobeat is like any other genre-- it has not always had the same chances to rub shoulders with other sounds in the dance space, but when it does, some wonderful things happen! And the whole music world is enriched for that cross-pollenation!

I love the songs I used to dislike! To think I'd go from vastly disliking Norma Sheffield's discography, to adoring it so fully! Disliking "Higher Higher More and More" to seeking it out from time to time! Not being fond of SAIFAM/BBB's style, to knowing some of its songs by heart!

And most of all, I love that I get to MAKE this stuff for a living! I do not take the fact that this could've not worked out trivially, and I hope I've rewarded your patiences well with a lot of new favorites and starting points for diving deeper into the genre over the last... almost 20 years, now!

And that's just the tip of the iceberg! I understand some eurobeat isn't to everyone's taste, but I think if you haven't tasted all that there is out there, you owe it to yourself to see how you feel about it. You might be pleasantly surprised!

[goodoldfashionlovercorpse]

Soul Love

pairing: Luke Castellan x daughter of Loki! reader

summary: No matter what she turned into, blood was always thicker than water. Luke, however, saw her for more than she did.

a/n: hello! this is part one. i thought there weren't enough loki kid! readers, so i started this. comments and reblogs are appreciated. have a nice day :)

warnings: implied ED, daddy issues, angst, etc.

Camp wasn’t made for her. She knew this, others showed it. A daughter of Loki did not belong at a camp for greek demigods. Despite how inviting “Camp Half-blood” maybe seem by name, it was exclusive to Greeks. Unless you want to end up in the Hermes cabin, and Y/N knew that she’d rather her brothers tear her limb by limb than ever stay there again.Well, there is one way she’d stay.  Luke Castellan. Not only was he a son of Hermes, but he was the best swordsman in 300 years.

And yet he looked at her with nothing but love, as if Aphrodite shot an arrow at him herself. He made continuous efforts to include her. When she sat alone outside of the Dining Pavilion, it took the boy mear seconds to accompany her – despite the chants at his home table.

“Hey, how’s dinner going?”

“It’s going…” She played with her food, fearing it a little yet still trying to take bites. She sighed so deep it became its own form. Nothing but gloom and gray sat behind those eyes. Isolation seemed to be her only friend aside from Luke. He was so much more than her; he was a hero and she’s doomed by the narrative. Forced to know not even nuclear warfare could end this world before her father. Yet he understood what he did not know.

“Your hair is turning to snakes. Wanna try again?”

Damn it. “No.”

He poked her continuously. Setting his plate down, he waited – like a predator to its prey – until she finished eating. He knew better than to make her meals more miserable than she already felt, so he sat there waiting for the other plate to empty. Grace wasn’t the sole word he could use for her. Even in a state of distress, she looked as if the love-gods  handcrafted her and brought her to life. Unfortunately, the doom of her destiny haunted her mirror. Despite her father and her being shapeshifters, there was always a piece of him in every shape she became.

The pavillion was as loud as the wind, yet Luke and her were as quiet as the moon. Should she say everything she wants or just leave it be? Her father was never one to tell the truth, especially when he said “i love you.” Saying those words with his blood flowing through her veins felt like a crime. A punishful lie. The cries of cousins burning her at the stake. At some points she’d feel ashamed for her pride. Why should she be proud to be his daughter? He has done nothing but try to end the world. He wished nothing but awful things to his children – she is not the exception.

Despite her father being a horrible being, she was his favorite child. She represented everything he was: chaos incarnate. She didn’t pick sides; even if her best friend went to war, she’d stand in between, only adding fuel to the fire. Her dad wasn’t evil, yet he wasn’t good either. He passed his neutrality onto his daughter, then tortured her for it, only to then aid her. Her. Not her siblings, just her. Loneliness and regret filled her for this, but Samirah and Alex never blamed her.

Yet seeing the pure loathing some campers held for their siblings made her uneasy. They hated their parents, yet it was obvious they are their children. They hold the same opinions, never critique their actions, always knowing one story – the Hero’s story.

She was pulled out of her thoughts when Luke held her hand as he looked into her eyes. Those eyes. Oh, those eyes… the things they do to her and her soul. Those brown eyes held layers of her regrets and so little judgement. He knew every detail of her mind, even what she did not want him to know. War, Valhalla, Loki, Camp, all of it. He knows all of it. Still, love courses through his eyes. She thinks she’s delusional.

While Luke may accept her, he still doesn’t know every single thing. He knew all, except her part in Ragnarok. Odin didn’t owe her anything, neither did she owe him; she also wasn’t on her father’s side, she knew better than Calypso. Instead, she will stand back and get rid of either side. Destiny wasn’t her favorite thing, it was her greatest detest. No way to undo it, no way to fast-forward it.

Luke wouldn’t leave her be, his eyes showed that he’d follow wherever she’d go. He’d meet her where the spirit meets the bone. “Have i ever told you how well the moon suits you?” Goosebumps raised her skin like a cat. He knew what she thought, yet he knew better than to discuss it out here. He knew all her thoughts, as if he knew her soul once upon a dream.

Before either utter a word, Luke smiled, genuinely. it was the kind of beam nothing could rival. “I apologise if i haven’t, you truly are lovely under the light.” he bit his tongue, aching to comfort her and defend her. It was too early, too much. She was impaled by her the venom in her veins, a feeling he knew all too well. The boy couldn’t complain, though. Although he held distaste for his father, he had learned to forgive and make amends.

He trusted his father when he said "i love you." She never had the option to believe her's. War was all that he’d given her, but war was not love; his father didn't start one, her's claimed it was his love. Even Ares and Athena knew it in their cold, golden blood. A moment of quiet passed through the sand. “I’m sorry that-”

“Do you ever think of Death?” she perked her head towards him, staring deeply into his eyes. Constellations and worlds resided in them. Whatever girl he has is lucky to have him, she thought. Silent prayers hung at her lips like the Gardens of Babylon.

The question was raw. Was he going to really answer it? Should he finish this question?

“I mean, Love and Death are a lot closer than one might think.” He stared at her, willing to listen to her every word even if she was describing a plan to murder him limb from limb. “Not everyone loves death, yet death craves love. To be forgotten – to be completely unloved is to die forevermore. Love adores death, loss gives value to what we hold dear. Orpheus already held dangerous levels of love for Euridice, her death increased his awareness. When she died again, she felt so much love for him, knowing she’d never be forgotten. She lived eons because death and love are adaptive. They feed off of each other. Death is never truly the end, the end is being forgotten. Forever lost in the sands. Never to be loved again.”

Behind her eyes, Luke saw her thoughts. He felt them like bullets on his skin, one so deep you couldn’t mistake it. She looked at the stars not knowing she was one.

Death was valuable to her for other reasons, but she ran from it. Ran from her own hair. Why? He wondered. Valhalla loved her, yet his bones knew that they wouldn’t once a grave had her name engraved. Gods were Luke’s enemy for a while. Still, the boy holds resentment over them. Heavy resentment. Y/n, though? Her father wanted her dead. At least Greek Half-bloods get to have a count down, Norse ones just die. No monsters, just their parents and humans. Monsters are her family; howling behind the barrier are her brothers, willing to take her life.

Perhaps he took for granted his dad sometimes. Even though Hermes started to get involved now, he assured Luke that he would’ve been a father to him sooner had he could. Not once did Hermes go after him or bullied him, only to praise him and aid him in the depths of his mental illness. Hermes may not be the best, but he was certainly not the worse. Luke could never imagine what the Norse gods are like: the children of Thor didn’t pray to  him, Odin was barely present — they didn’t even build a camp to ignore their kid, they just let them die.

Chaos followed every demi-god, special the Norse ones, mainly the children of Loki. He was neither good nor evil. Y/n prefaced this during all their talks. To him, Loki was pure evil; but to the most gorgeous creature on earth, he was her father.

Trickery was infused into her soul, unable to leave even if she bore red liquid like a fountain in Greece. Death was her escape, her only vice — yet now her views have change since the moment they met. Life is her, she is life; she adorns his world in her heart. But somehow he still felt so… Powerless. He was utterly powerless when it came to her heritage. She’d accepted it so quickly. Completely unfazed that she had this burden.

Meanwhile, he still had trouble facing his dad. Sure, all has been resolved and war has been evaded, but that’s only for the Greek demigods. His family is, for the most part, alive. But her? Her mom and dad are no where near, her father is out to either kill her or train her, and she’s already suffered the loss of a sister – a loss she dares not repeat.

“That was too much, wasn’t it? It’s not virtuous to praise death. But in this world, what else is there?

“Maybe you’re right. Or, maybe, we can talk about shows, or the gods, or even us.”

“Us?”

Luke swallowed his spit, trying hard not to sweat. Nodding, he looked at the sky. “Us.” He smiled warmly, making the air smells like honey and roses, “my favorite song is Soul Love by Bowie.”  He didn’t have to turn around to see her face, the warmth of her excitement felt like enough. She was already more than enough.

[alwaysonf1]

date?

Pairing: Charles LeClerc x Hamilton!OC

Genre: Slice of Life; Fluff

Word Count: 3.3k

Warning: Mild Language.

Rating: PG-13

Author's Note: PSA there will be no French hear unless it's a pet name or I love you.

A knock on her door makes Iman jump. In the process a bit of the lip gloss she was applying gets on her chin. Panic fills her and she quickly grabs a tissue and blots it away. 

“One second,” she calls out.

Iman would love to say that all her nervous energy was because she needs to touch up her make-up quickly, but it was there long before that. It’d been there since she’d woken up from her nap. She’d opted out of the late lunch she’d been invited to, claiming she was tired and needed a bit to recharge. Which hadn’t been a lie, but it also wasn’t the complete truth. Iman needed alone time to pull herself together and scream into her pillow.

The giddy schoolgirl behavior was back.

There was a part of her that still hated that feeling, but she’d also started to embrace it. Most of her relationships didn’t come with it. That didn’t mean the ones that did were amicable at all, but for some reason she felt like this time it made sense. This time it was okay to fall into her emotions, even if the potential bad outcome comes true.

As soon as the thought enters, even though it’s not sending her into a spiral, she pushes it out. Going into this with only thoughts of the good, while being realistic is what she needed to do. Even if things ending badly, was a realistic possibility.

With a tap of her setting powder and then a light mist, she gets herself up from the seat in front of the vanity and grabs her purse from the bench near the door. Her gaze flits over the mirror on the other side of the door and she walks toward it. One thing she isn’t nervous about is her outfit.

The olive-green dress she chose fits her well up top and flares perfectly at the bottom, stopping just below her knee. It’s her favorite color to wear and she’s full of herself enough that she knows that others agree with her choice. However, the one area where she’s a little hesitant is the shoes. Why she packed stiletto length heels she was unsure, but they work and that’s all that mattered.

A deep breath, an adjustment on how the bottom half of her braids not in an updo, and then she opens the door.

Unconsciously she takes a sharp inhale. When Charles looks up at her he does the same. It stops some of the burning in her cheeks, but she could see the rosiness forming on his face immediately. He looks bashful and that comforts her for some reason.

“Hi,” she says.

Not enough to get her to say something better than that though.

“Hi. You look… beautiful, mon ange.” He sounds a little breathless.

However, that isn’t what she focuses on. No, her brain is fixated on the term of endearment. Fixated on him calling her his angel. Iman is sure that the burn in her cheeks is enough to be visible. But she hopes her blush is hiding it. Being this flustered is a little embarrassing.

“Thank you. You look handsome.” 

The statement could easily just be a throw away compliment since he gave her one, but Iman means it. Her eyes scan him from head to toe, his combination of brown slacks and a cream ribbed button up makes her warm in a different way. Her eyes meet his again and he his lips are quirked in a smirk and there’s a fire in his eyes.

A second passes with them just staring at each other, then Charles extends his hand. Iman takes it without a second or first thought. Their fingers lace together, and Charles nods his head toward the elevators.

“We shouldn’t miss our reservation.”

Iman nods and they begin to walk. 

Silence fills the space between them, but it’s comfortable. Once inside the elevator she thinks Charles will let go, but he holds her hand firmly. Not giving a single sign, he plans to release her. Even as one of her fingers taps against the back of his hand due to her mild fear of being trapped in an elevator. Something that came from getting trapped in an elevator once with Logan. 

He leads her out of the elevator once the doors open, squeezing tight for a second. 

The only times he’s been in front of her is to motion her forward in a lady first gesture. Something she doesn’t need for a date but feels good.

Though the usual move was to rent a house on vacation, everyone thought a new resort that had everything you could want on the property was a good idea. So, from the moment they exit the hotel to their arrival at the restaurant only five minutes will pass.

The first minute is with more silence, but then suddenly Iman is pressed against Charles’ side. Her eyes go wide, and she turns her head to look up at him, but then she feels a whoosh of air. She turns her head just in time to see a golf cart going too fast.

Shock is the word that best fits her as she watches the cart until it disappears. Then she looks to Charles again. Despite their impending danger just moments ago he seems very calm. Too calm.

“Did you set that up, Charlie?”

“What do you mean?” Confusion takes hold of his features. 

“Your saving the damsel in distress moment?” 

His confusion only seems to grow, and she watches as he opens his mouth to reply, then closes it. An expression that Iman would call a little arrogant replaces the confusion.

“Are you a damsel in distress, mon ange?”

Iman purses her lips in thought, then bats her lashes at him.

“Maybe.”

Charles leans in close and whispers in her ear, “Then I will save you whenever you need it.”

Involuntary shivers run down her spine and from the growing smirk she knows that Charles noticed it. Her immediate response is to fall into a shy persona, but she steels herself, this time being the one to whisper in his ear.

“I’ll hold you to it.”

There’s a mild shift in expression, but he manages to keep it off his face. 

“We have to go. Don’t want to be late, remember?” she says.

Charles clears his throat and nods, leading them to the restaurant. This silence is more tension filled than before. The kind of tension that Iman enjoys.

But because she knows that he’s already flustered she doesn’t do anything to get him even more riled up. Just holds his hand until they get to the entrance of the restaurant. Her hand goes to push open the door, but Charles beats her to it. He gives her a look that she’s sure is about the audacity of her opening the door herself and then guides her in by the small of her back.

This resort has quite a few F1 fans on staff, so it doesn’t shock Iman when the host’s face lights up and he gestures for them to follow him without a word said. He leads them through the half full restaurant and to a table that isn’t completely separate from everything else but has some level of privacy.

Charles pulls the chair out for her, and she sits, her hands itching to look at the menu, but she waits until he’s seated and the host leaves. Iman’s hand reaches out to grab the menu, but it’s gone and in Charles’ hands before she can. She opens her mouth, ready to ask what he’s doing, but that’s paused by the waiter arriving with water and taking the drink orders. Before he leaves Charles promises they’ll have their orders ready for when he comes back.

So, instead of saying anything Iman looks at Charles with a raised brow. One of his hands extends across the table and takes her’s. He looks into her eyes and she almost melts.

“I know what you want,” he says.

Immediately she wants to be apprehensive, but she doesn't give into that. Yes, people could be different when a romantic relationship is on the table, but Charles sat through an hour rant about a date with someone who ordered for her and then ate half her food while she was in the bathroom.

“Go on,” Iman says.

“They have wagyu here.”

All funny feelings fled her at once and she could feel giddiness building up in her. 

“And a asparagus dish similar to…”

A soft sound of joy escapes her, cutting him off. The mention of two of her favorite things is all she needs to hear. Without thinking she gets out of her seat and goes to his side. She takes his head in her hands and leans down, kissing him in a way that isn’t soft, but also not intense.

When she pulls away Charles looks breathless again. And for a moment Iman thinks about doing it again but sees their waiter out of the corner of her eye and moves back to her seat. 

“What did I do to deserve that?” he asks when the waiter leaves.

“Listen.”

“That is all it takes?”

Iman knows he’s teasing her. They’ve had many conversations about the bar being in hell. Though he says it’s much deeper than that.

“I also just wanted to kiss you.”

“You are welcome to any time, mon ange.”

Embarrassment for her reaction to that or her reactions at all is nowhere to be found. Maybe it will turn up when she’s trying to sleep at night, but Iman has no regrets. Charles is a man she’s liked for longer than she’d care to admit and like she told herself in her hotel room, she’s allowing her elevated emotions to be what they are. She’ll mellow out.

Neither say anything else, taking a moment to taste their drinks. Wine isn’t her favorite thing, but she likes the red wine she chose. She hadn’t specified what kind, and the waiter didn’t ask. It worked in her favor.

Throat clearing and she’s looking at Charles again.

“Do you like it?’

“Surprisingly, yes.”

“Good.”

“Do you want to try it?” 

Charles’ eyes widen. “Oh no, mon…”

The glass is already outstretched to him, he hesitates, but takes it after a few seconds. Iman watches intently as his lips press to the rim and he takes a small sip. And then another. And then for a third time.

“Hold on now, I didn’t say you could drink it all.”

Her hand beckons for him to give it back and he takes one last sip then hands it over. There’s a pout taking shape, but Iman refuses to be swayed by it.

“Put that lip away before I bite it. Order your own.”

Brows are raised at the word bite, and he doesn’t stop the pouting. In fact, he exaggerates it. 

“Sharl…” she warns.

That brings a smile and she can’t help but roll her eyes, before smiling as well.

Time either moved quickly or the staff did, because two waiters approach with their meals a second later. They’re both covered until the plates are on the table and a man is now no longer what Iman is salivating over.

“Thank you,” they say as the waiters leave.

Once they’re gone Iman takes no cues from Charles, just picks up the smallest piece of her already cut steak and fights a moan. It’s nearly perfect and it’s been a while since she’d had it.

Her next step is tasting the asparagus. There’s a little surprise in the restaurant having it whole, the only time she sees them in an up-scale restaurant is usually as a barely there part of the meal. 

The moment she touches her tongue her eyes go wide and she takes another bite immediately. This time something akin to a moan almost comes out, but there’s another piece in her mouth before she can release it.

“That is almost the taste exactly,” Iman says.

“I don’t believe I have asked you, why do you enjoy those so much?”

Iman puts down the cutlery and takes a sip of her wine.

“Lewis was, and still is, a terrible cook. But that didn’t stop my mother from leaving me with him for a week while she worked. I only knew the basics and that got tiring after a while. So, I begged him to make something fancier. He caved, we went to the store and grabbed anything. Then we got home and it was a disaster trying to figure things out. Burned chicken, burned chocolate lava cake, and somehow burned mashed potatoes. Asparagus is the only thing that we managed not to burn and we’d just thrown random spices on them before roasting so we were terrified. But we agreed it was the best vegetable eating experience we’d ever had. Took weeks to figure out how to recreate it.

“And then he went vegan on me. So, it became one of the few shared favorite dishes we have.”

Charles appears thoughtful. There was some eating here and there - from both of them - as Iman spoke, but she had his full attention the entire time.

“Ah. I will admit that this love you have for it is still confusing to me, but I understand. Now, how did you come to love such an expensive cut of cow?”

Soft laughter escapes Iman because of his phrasing.

“For one of my birthdays, Lewis just showed up and said we were going to Japan. I’d always wanted to, but mom refused to let him just jet me here and there because it would spoil me or something. As if he didn’t in every other way,” Iman rolls her eyes. “But anyway, we went and did all the touristy things, ate ramen in small towns, and bought way too much in all the districts of Tokyo. Then we went to a restaurant that was just the fanciest place I’d ever seen. It was a kind of place that had a set menu.

“I wasn’t all that sure about trying the wagyu when it came out redder than I liked, but he convinced me and it was the best steak I’d ever eaten. We still had a week after that and I convinced him four more times to take me to places with wagyu, but I refused to have anything but the best. That’s the first and only time he’s cut off my spending. Which is fair. I was at risk of actually putting a dent in his bank account if I got my way.”

A fondness fills Iman and she thinks back to the chaos and fun of that trip.

“So should I raise my price when I go into contract negotiations to prepare for this addiction of yours?” he asks, laughing.

“If you like me, happy.”

“Then I will do just that.”

Iman was uncertain if he was joking or not, but there was this look in his eye that made her think he might not be.

Instead of addressing that she continues to eat her meal. They speak here and there about the things they loved in life. There’s a lot of focus on Iman getting back into dancing and Charles wanting to release more music.

“Why not release a single? Get the fans excited.” Iman asks

“I have nothing ready.”

“I’ve heard your “unfinished” music before, it’s great. You’re just too in your head.”

“Perhaps.”

Two waiters arrive to take their plates and then leave quickly. As if scared to linger longer than necessary.

“Dessert?”

Lips pursed, Iman shakes her head. “Hm… I usually wouldn’t say no, but I don’t know if I can manage.”

“We could share?”

Iman thinks it over, she knows that she’ll have to satisfy the sweet treat craving later if she doesn’t now. Which is fine, but she kind of wants to know what the restaurant has to offer. 

“Okay.”

Hand not even halfway up and the waiter is at their table.

“What can I help you with?” he asks.

“One of your chocolate mousses, please.”

“Only one, sir?

“Yes, we will share.”

Their waiter pulls a face. “I’m sorry sir, are you sure? The mousse is quite small.”

Charles looks at me and I turn toward the waiter.

“Two of them, please.”

The waiter nods and is gone as fast as he arrived. 

They continue talking about everything under the sun and just like their food, the mousse is there before they know it. And when they see it, their understanding of what small means is very clear.

“No wonder they provide such small spoons, trying to make people think it’s more than two scoops,” Iman says.

Nothing else is said and they dig in. It takes them both three spoonfuls to be done with it, confirming that Iman will need to order something from room service anyway.

“Ready to go?” Charles asks.

“Yes.”

He leaves the table and returns a minute later with his hand outstretched.

Iman takes it and rises from her seat and allows him to lead her out of the restaurant. The sun is much lower in the sky and so the walk is much slower than it was before. Their hands lightly swing between them.

When they reach Iman’s room she thinks it’s too soon, despite turning a five-minute walk into twenty. 

Stalling, she turns to face him and just stares. Charles does the same thing. Then he’s creeping closer and closer, until Iman’s back is flush against her door. One of his hands slips to her waist and the other cups her face. He angles her head up and then his lips are on her’s. They’re soft and taste of chocolate. It’s gentle to start, but Iman wraps her arms around him, trying to pull him closer and it takes a turn.

They part for a moment and then Iman puts a hand in his hair and pulls him back in. Her teeth graze his lip, he shivers. So, she does it again, but instead of a graze it’s a bite.

A haze comes over her.  As they finally pull away and she doesn’t know how long they’ve been at it, but she hears voices and doesn’t want to get in trouble for indecent acts in public.

“I should probably…” she trails, hitching a thumb at her door.

Charles clears his throat and loses some of that spacy look he has going on.

“Yes, you need your rest. We have an early morning.”

“Someone really should have stopped that Florida man from booking a sunrise breakfast boat ride and then snorkeling.”

Laughter. “I am sure it will be fun.”

“I hope so.”

Seconds tick by with neither of them doing anything. Then the voices get closer and Iman rediscovers sense. 

“So… good night, Sharl.”

“Good night, mon ange.”

They lean in and kiss again, but it’s more of a peck. Then he watches as she unlocks the door and goes into her room. She waves at him as she closes the door.

Inside her room Iman stands perfectly still as she counts down thirty seconds, hoping that he’s on the elevator. She reaches thirty and she grabs a pillow from the love seat in her room and screams into it.

“Hell yes,” she shouts.

###

Every second since Charles kissed Iman at her door has been like he’s floating on a cloud. His every moment is almost autopilot and when he breaks from his stupor for a second or two, he can’t remember when he changed into his pajamas or dimmed the lights. 

Standing in front of the bathroom sink so he can brush his teeth, his eyes meet the reflection and he sees a dopey smile on his face. Not that he hasn’t known it was there this entire time. But seeing it is different. It confirms something for him.

He’s not going to let this slip away. 

That’s not the thing he’s confirmed though, but he can’t find it in himself to address it. It feels too fast.

[mins-fins]

missa solemnis

&&. it's not everyday that you waltz with the prince that wants to rip out your tongue, but life is just full of surprises.

pairing: lee donghyuck x m!reader

genre: fairly random really, royalty au, enemies(?) to lovers

warnings: explicit language, reader and hyuck threaten each other the whole time, reader and hyuck both suck so bad but they both want each other so bad

word count: 1k

notes: this whole thing is just one scene from a bigger thing i wrote during the christmas break that i scrapped because i didn't think people would read it.. also because i'm not very good when it comes to writing people as enemies, also it was HORRIBLE i almost throw up every time i even glance at that mess 😞 anyway to celebrate nct dream reincarnation royal au i decided to just take this chunk and edit it so now at least it makes a little more sense 😭?? not my best writing truly but prince hyuck has not left my mind, i need to start writing more royal aus

"if i didn't know better, i'd think you wanted to kiss me right now".

there's a taunting tone in your voice that makes donghyuck glare, but he still doesn't get distracted, keeping up the same momentum he's had since you two began dancing no more than a few minutes ago.

there's a few good reasons you assumed he wanted to kiss you, mainly the direct contact he was making with your lips, he looked like he was about to move forward and connect his lips with yours with absolutely no shame, no regard for his reputation, his soon-to-be-wife, or his supposed "hatred" of you.

"you are an absolute moron".

"aren't i correct?"

donghyuck's poker face doesn't falter, no matter how much you tried to get a smile out of him with idiotic comments or jokes. "nope, wrong as always".

you hum at the princes response, somehow able to stay focused on waltzing as the two of you made your way around in a circle. donghyuck will never understand your way of easily multitasking, how you were somehow able to focus on annoying the absolute shit out of him as well as focus on not stepping on his foot at all.

he has to give it to you (begrudgingly though), it's impressive.

"so what is it then, your highness? you were just staring at my lips because you were bored? lost in your head?"

donghyuck's grip on your hand tightens at the sound of you using his title in such a mocking manner, oh he hates you, he hates you so much that if he had to choose, he'd rather kill you himself then have someone else do it.

you piss him off so much, your words piss him off so much, he wants to punch you, he wants to set you on fire and watch you burn, he wants to so badly stomp you into the ground and watch you suffer—

but holy shit you are absolutely gorgeous.

donghyuck can't even deny it, even with how much denial courses through his veins about topics such as this, anyone with two functioning eyes could see that you are just such a work of art. donghyuck can't even blame all the women that flock to the gates of your palace, hoping to score just one date with you.

"i was too busy thinking about the several torture methods that i could put you through".

"ah i am so hurt, you don't love me sweetheart?"

donghyuck has to use every single bit of patience remaining in his body to not step on your foot and leave you in pain on the dance floor.

the only reason he was dancing with you in the first place was because of a promise he made to his mother, his fiancée was off doing something else, gossiping with the servants, he assumes, she did always enjoy that, a favorite activity of hers that he's learned about from observing.

a dance like this should truly only be preserved for lovers, people who can stand each other, a pair who, with all things considered, won't bicker whilst they were supposed to be focusing on the music.

you two, with all things considered, are an example of everything opposite of that, you can't stand each other, you bicker all the time, and you are truly the furthest thing from lovers.

"call me that again and next time your head won't be attached to your body".

"i like to think you threaten me because you love me".

donghyuck snorts, finally, and you felt a surge of pride in your chest, you'd gotten a smile out of him. "your mind must be the messiest place ever.." he resorts to muttering, not knowing what other specific threats he could tell you. "an idiotic one too, do you ever think clearly? logically?"

you hum, displaying a lack of offense at the words. instead, you just lean closer, the distance between you two minimizing. "i only think about you, sweetheart".

a scoff leaves the prince's lips, he's absolutely done with you, but there's still a good minute left to the song, meaning there's still a good minute of you two waltzing in this ballroom left.

"i just cannot wait for this to be over.."

"you don't say!"

your enthusiasm pisses off donghyuck, but he doesn't step on your foot like he wanted, instead pulling you forward harshly, causing for a yelp of surprise to escape your lips. his arm remains around your waist, ensuring that you won't fall, but you two do bump foreheads.

"jesus! are you crazy!?"

there is absolutely no reason for you two to be pressed this close, your fingers still very much intertwined, just one trip up and your lips would touch.

you wonder in your head if donghyuck is slowly regretting his brash decision.

"what? you don't know how to waltz anymore?"

you always find a way to jab at him, comment on something he did, joke about a little things that you knew got under his skin.

oh lee donghyuck absolutely despises you.

that doesn't explain why he still clearly wants to kiss you, though.

"you're just—" he pauses in the middle of his sentence, suddenly very interested in your facial features, features that he could now clearly see up close. "a moron, an idiot".

"as you've said before".

donghyuck doesn't respond anymore after that, the song isn't even done, a good 25 seconds left before it's ending, but donghyuck was clearly done, as he pushed you away, taking in a breath.

"that's enough of you, have a good night your highness".

the words leave his tongue bitterly, his glare is less of a genuine one and more full of mixed emotions, but he doesn't give you any more time to stare at him, just turns around and walks in the direction of his fiancée.

you watch him walk away, and he doesn't make an effort to even save you one final glance.

the song isn't even over yet.

but he's done, very done.

[nanamisflowerfield]

Moonlit Meetings, Conversations And A Promise (Dick Grayson x f!Reader)

︵✿︵︵✿︵︵✿︵︵✿︵︵✿︵︵✿︵︵✿︵

Nightwing meets the Reader on a rooftop, talking and joking around with her, while watching the stars. Their second encounter turns to one of many others. And in the meantime, Reader meets Officer Dick Grayson and falls in love with him, not knowing that him - Nightwing - starts falling head over heels in love with her as well.

︶✿︶︶✿︶︶✿︶︶✿︶︶✿︶︶✿︶︶✿︶

(Y/N) always thought of Blüdhaven to be boring, but when she met a certain black-haired vigilante that saved her live in a dark warehouse, the investigative journalist changed her mind. The city was better than she had expected.

But there was one thing that she always had loved. Even before meeting Nightwing or the interesting officer. It was the night sky.

Every night, the (h/c) woman climbed fire stairs of her apartment up, to sit on the rooftop, watching the bright stars that shined up in the dark night sky. A beautiful sight.

And like every day and night, the city of Blüdhaven continued its restless rhythm, just like the journalist, who found herself drawn to the rooftop.

As the moon cast its glow, Nightwing descended gracefully, drawn to the figure on the rooftop. The sound of his boots landing softly on the concrete alerted (Y/N) to his presence. It has been a week since they have met. She turned slowly, but offered a warm smile, when she noticed the vigilante.

“Hey, Nightwing. What brings you here?” she asked, the stars reflected in her (e/c) eyes.

“Just checking in on my favorite investigative journalist,” Nightwing replied with a playful smirk that graced his lips.

(Y/N) chuckled, “Flattery will get you everywhere, but be careful. You might give Clark Kent a run for his money in the charm department.”

The man in front of you only raised his eyebrow, smirk still on its place, before he shook his head. You only turned back to the stars, watching them and hearing the footsteps of the vigilante, who stood now next to you. “Everything okay?”

“Yeah, I just needed some fresh air aaand….” You pointed to the streets. “… for this. The view is just wonderful.” He nodded, leaning on the fences of the rooftop. “How are you doing, Knight-In-Tight-Spandex?” Nightwing couldn’t stop himself, as he laughed at his new nickname. “Really?” You only shrugged your shoulders, smiling to yourself.

“Well… I’m tired.” You only hummed, knowing that feeling to well to be so damn tired. After all, you were always tired due to your job, but you loved it and would never give it up so easily. Just like the man next to you. “A coffee could help.”

The blackhead only nodded, “Yeah. I might need to get one as soon as possible. Gotta go… See ya, journalist.” – “It’s (Y/N). And bye, Sir Spandex.”

You watched him jump down and swinging through the lighted streets, while you smiled at him, not knowing that this little encounter was one of many others.

❀✿❀✿❀✿❀✿❀✿❀✿❀✿❀✿❀✿❀✿❀✿❀✿

You sipped on your hot beverage, nearly burning your tongue as you were too impatient to wait for it to get colder. You walked past a couple, nearly bumping into them, but you were stubborn and didn’t gave up your beverage and your notepad that you held tightly in your fists. Your steps got faster and faster, just wanting to reach the place and here you were.

The newest crime scene of Blüdhaven.

And there were a bunch of cops and of course more journalists. Great.

With a sigh, you tried to squeeze yourself through the large crowd that has gathered in front of the place. All of them wanted to know what was has happened. Just like you were. But perhaps you were too weak or these tall damn idiots were too strong, as you couldn’t get too far into the crowd. Your fingers went through your hair, messing them up, but not caring at all, while your gaze moved around until you found a small gap, far away from everyone.

Sneakily, you tried to walk to the gap, until you heard someone clearing their throat. You turned around, eyes moving from a chest up to the person’s face to only notice him. The officer that you met last week! “Long time no see, (L/N).” He said, crossing his arms over his chest.

Nervously, you scratched your neck, letting out a small laugher. “Heeey, there… Uhmm…” – “Officer Dick Grayson.”

Now you finally had a name for this handsome face.

“I’m (Y/N) (L/N) from the Blüdhaven Bulletin.” You raised your arm, shaking his hand as he nodded his head, already knowing you due to your big headline. “Uhm right… You already know me.”

He shook his head, chuckling at you. The sun dipped on him, making him look so much more attractive than he already was. Damn…

“So,” He started while glancing into your eyes with his beautiful ocean blue eyes, “when are you going to interview Nightwing? I’m already excited to read more of your work.” He leaned now on a wall, closing the small gap that you wanted to use.

You chuckled, rolling your eyes. “I'm not sure he's the interview type. Besides, he's a bit… elusive?”

Dick grinned, a mischievous glint in his eyes. “You might be surprised. He's got a soft spot for determined journalists.”

Determined… That’s what you were indeed. He surely wasn’t the first one to describe you as determined.

Their eyes met, and smiles blossomed on their faces. The world around them seemed to fade into the background as they engaged in easy banter, laughing and joking as if they had known each other for years. The chemistry between them was undeniable, forging a connection that defied explanation.

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Days turned into weeks, and your encounters with the police officer Dick Grayson became more frequent. You'd bump into him at crime scenes, exchange banter, and slowly, a connection formed. He admired your determination, your refusal to back down, and you found solace in his easygoing nature.

And at nights, on your lovely and chill rooftop, you would meet up with Nightwing. The joking vigilante, that loved to tease you, while you sipped on your hot drinks. And the masked man would drink the coffee you would make in your apartment for him. It had become a routine for her to bring him a cup of coffee, a gesture of friendship and an excuse to spend more time together. (Y/N) often found herself meeting Nightwing even when she was clad in her pajamas and messy hair, her vulnerability laid bare. The vigilante would chuckle, appreciating her carefree nature and admiring her even more for her willingness to be herself around him.

As many nights unfolded, you and Nightwing shared stories, dreams, and laughter.

Little did you know that beneath the mask, Dick Grayson harbored a secret of his own. More than just one…

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Small POV change…

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As their friendship grew deeper, the more felt Dick conflicted. He had always been drawn to Batgirl, their on-and-off relationship reflecting their complex connection. Yet, as he spent more time with (Y/N), a sweet but sassy journalist, he couldn't deny the feelings he had for her.

Dick knew that he cared for (Y/N) in a way that surpassed friendship. Her laughter, her support, and her understanding gaze made his heart skip beats. Something that Barbara couldn’t do. But he was with the redhead. Someone he always knew.

His hands rubbed over his masked eyes, while being deep in thoughts.

The quiet night sky hung above the city, countless stars gracing them. It truly was a beautiful sight. The only thing that could have been heard were a few cars and… footsteps?

“A penny for your thoughts?” The woman he was thinking about stood there, in one hand, two steaming cups and with the other hand a dollar and a mischievous glint in her (e/c) eyes.

Nightwing looked at her irritated. A dollar? A small chuckle left his lips.

He teased back, “You know, you're supposed to give me a penny, not a dollar.”

“Sorry, I don't have a penny with me. Also... I wanted to see you smile.”

Nightwing laughed, the sound echoing through the quiet night. “You're something else, (Y/N).” – “I know.”

They stood there, leaning on the fence, gazes up high towards the bright stars that shined their lights on the two. “I… I need your advice.” He whispered under his breath, surprising both of them. “You have a problem?” He nods.

“I'm in a bit of a situation…” He admitted, hand going through his dark locks. “I'm with my ex again… We kinda have this on-and-off-relationship, but there's someone else I can't stop thinking about. She is great and funny. Sweet… At times.” He chuckled to himself, describing the one person that stood next to him. “She is amazing… And I think that I might like her more than well… My current girlfriend… I'm not sure what to do.” She glanced down to her cup, the hot drink bringing her warmth at the cold weather.

She considered his words carefully. “Love is a complicated thing, but you deserve to be with someone who makes you truly happy. So uhm… You should follow your heart. If you're falling for someone else, it's not fair to your girlfriend or yourself to stay in a relationship that doesn't feel right. She is smart. She will notice is sooner or later, that you won’t love her as much as she loves you. Maybe…” She gulps and glanced up to the vigilante, who listened to every word that escaped her lips.

“… Maybe… You have to break up with her. But it’s your decision. Just follow your heart and everything will be alright.” She leaned towards him, bumping him lightly with her shoulder, as his lips turned up and formed a small smile.

“I trust that you will male the right choice.” (Y/N) said, sipping her drink. “But promise me one thing.”

His eyes moved to her. (e/c) eyes meeting masked ones. “Promise me, that you will do something about your little problem and don’t just shove it away. You have to confront it.” Of course, she would say that.

“I want you to solve your problem within this week.”

Nightwing’s eyes widen at her. What did she just say?

“Within this week, I want you to talk to your girlfriend and either break up with her and confess to your new lover or ask her out oooor… You know… Try to stop having feeling for the other girl and focus on your girlfriend. You have a week, Nightwing. Make it count. I just hope that it works out, I mean… on-and-off-relationship? Uff… That’s hard, buddy.”

The vigilante only started laughing, knowing that she was trying to cheer him up with small jokes and comments that she threw in here and there. Nightwing's eyes held a mixture of gratitude and longing. “I promise.”

He cleared his throat, smirk plastered on his face. “What about you? Do you fancy someone?”

She nearly choked on her drink, coughing a little bit. “Uhhh… Why?” The vigilante only shrugged, looking at her interested.

“Urgh… Yeah… But if you will tell him, I will beat you up, okay? I’m not afraid of a guy in spandex.” He chuckled at her threat. “Sure. Now tell me!”

(E/C) eyes moved away from the tall man, ignoring his childish puppy dog eyes. “I know that you know him due to your work and all, so please don’t tell him…” Nightwing pretended to zip his mouth and lock it with an imaginary key, which he threw away.

“It’s… Officer Grayson.” She mumbled, drinking the rest of her drink and not noticing the smile on the black-haired man’s lips. “Let’s talk about uhhh… Dogs! Do you have one? Why are you looking at me like that? Don’t you dare to tease me, Nightwing!”

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With newfound determination and summoning his strength, Dick went to his girlfriend, Barbara Gordon. He walked the to her apartment in Gotham and when Dick has arrived, started rambling and trying to talk about things that were quite off topic, but the redhead knew that something was off. She knew Dick for a long time by now. “What’s wrong, Dick?” She finally asked and the black-haired man stood in front of her, taking a deep breath.

He had to decide.

And when he closed his eyes, his mind and heart yelled only one name. (Y/N) (L/N).

Gently, Dick confessed his feelings, that he felt in love with another woman and apologized to Barbara. As he was sitting on her couch, telling her how he met a journalist and everything that has happened, she smiled at him, shaking her head. To his surprise, she had sensed the change in his heart and had her own suspicions. “We both knew that it wouldn’t work out for us… But I’m happy that you found someone, Dick. Don’t worry. Please be happy, confess to her and don’t you dare to break her heart, because she sounds like a great woman.”

His head rose. “She is.”

And that’s how Dick Grayson kept his promise.

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Small POV change again…

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Meanwhile, you found yourself missing both Nightwing and Dick Grayson during the week. It was weird how both of them were gone, but perhaps… Work was just in the way… right? Yet, you carried on with your work. You had to.

On the last day of that week, you focused on capturing photos for an article. As you walked through the crime scene, a familiar voice caught you off guard. Officer Dick Grayson. Remembering the last conversation and the fact that you told an idiotic vigilante that you had indeed a crush on the mentioned officer – gaining many teasing comments from the damn vigilante – you glanced away from the tall and handsome man, taking another picture.

“Would you go out on a date with me?” You heard the voice ask, making you nearly drop your camera out of shock.

Surprised yet elated, you felt a warmth spread through you. The pieces of the puzzle fell into place, the realization hitting you like a punch in the face. Dick Grayson and Nightwing were gone at the same time. Both have the same appearance and their voices… They sound similar… Nightwing also has promised you that he will confess to or ask his crush out – well perhaps – depending on his choices… But he wanted to do it within this week! Could it be possible? No? Or maybe yes…

It wouldn’t surprise you, as your best friend was a superhero, so the chances of Dick Grayson being a vigilante are there… But you wouldn’t tell him about your little theory. It was just a theory and the chances of him were there but very small. There were after all, many people living in Blüdhaven…

Forget it. It wasn’t the time to think about it. You should start thinking about other things and finally give the man of your dreams an answer. A blush tinted your cheeks as you nodded, “I would love to.”

…

And later that same night, you were on the rooftop, heart jumping in excitement, as you heard footsteps. “Hey, there.” You turned to the man you were just thinking about.

He waved, a smile tugs on his lips as well. “Nightwing, did you ask out your crush?” She asked immediately, awaiting an answer.

Nightwing, leaning on the fence, taking the cup she held for him into his own. “Yes, I did. And she said yes.” His face showed you a mix of relief and joy. “I would never break a promise to you.”

You two smiled at each other, sipping on your drinks and talking about your week. A normal thing that you both did during a moonlit meeting in Blüdhaven at night.

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Reblogs, plot ideas, comments and a ko-fi are appreciated. ( ‘ω’ ) © nanamisflowerfield. Do not repost, rewrite, plagiarize my work.

[hyperactivewhore]

Answer if you have the balls and you're woman enough to do so, but I know you're not. Anyway, here goes.

So, you and your little cult of pick-mes are at it again, huh? Slandering Caroline for no real reason other than because she existed. Man, you guys are relentless. You just can't help yourselves, can you? And you say it's Caroline fans/Klaroline shippers who are the ones who start and harass you. And I know that's bullshit, because I don't see Caroline fans or Klaroline shippers doing anything except minding their own business, not bothering anyone whatsoever and keeping to themselves, and enjoying what they like just like everyone else does. It's you and every other Bonnie fan that's the problem. You're the ones that always look to start a problem or cause some kind of drama, all because you can't stand Caroline is more loved and liked by the fans than your faves. But oh well, that's just how it is.

And it's funny you say Bonnie was justified in acting the way she did when Caroline turned, when it's basically her fault that Caroline ever became a vampire in the first place. Quite frankly, Bonnie deserved way more heat and should've faced deeper consequences for her role in the S1 finale. And don't even get me started on the lame, half-assed bullshit excuse she gave, that "she couldn't do it, because her Grams wouldn't have." Really??? But then she has the nerve to treat her best friend like shit for something that was her own fault and that Caroline didn't ask for whatsoever, that was completely out of Caroline's hands? Fuck out of here, give me a fucking break!

But anything to hate Caroline for, right? Anything to basically make her out to be the devil incarnate. Yeah, Caroline wasn't perfect, but guess what? Neither were any of your shitty ass faves. Get the fuck over yourselves.

Also, gotta love how you only think Tyler deserved better where it concerns Caroline, but you say nothing whatsoever about what Hayley did to him in S4, which in my opinion was 1000x worse than Caroline sleeping with Klaus. But I guess since it didn't involve Caroline, it doesn't matter as much and only then, does Tyler not deserve better, huh? And what about his pack of hybrids? They didn't deserve better than what Hayley did to them? No, I guess not.

Lastly, I'm by no means a Klaroline shipper, but I give no fucks about Caroline having slept with Klaus, simply because that's the big fuck you that everyone in the Mystic Falls Gang deserved. Especially Elena, who knowingly and shamelessly was sleeping with Caroline's abuser/rapist and gave no fucks about it 🙂 But this is who you deem the most "compassionate" and "selfless" girl? Yeah, more like the most selfish and self-centered. And that's exactly why she was the most hated character. And justifiably and deservedly so. Caroline is 10000x better than Elena ever was, and I know it that bothers you and burns you deep down inside. Because you know it's a fact and the truth. Oh well, die mad about it, hun.

Then people wonder why most of the fandom eventually comes to hate klaroline and/or Caroline. This are the same people who got a woman fired off her job and who had their favorite white woman be getting all the plots who belonged to Bonnie or shamelessy self-inserted into everything 💀

"My little cult" I'm fucking dying with laughter, your pretty little sunshine vampire wouldn't be alive without Bonnie, actually no one in Mystic Falls would be alive if not for Bonnie. If people are getting harassed again by the same crazy Caroline stan, all my prayers. Just ignore this cunt 💞

[covenantofthedeep]

forcing a smile and waving goodbye ☆

feat. | xiao, childe, hu tao, and raiden shogun summary | breaking up w them :( a/n | it's been so long since i've written angst omg

hu tao |

she's been together with you for so long that she can hardly remember days without you. her life's been split into two sections; With You and Without You. Without You is cold and dark, a cave in her mind where she vanishes during the night and doesn't emerge till noon the next day.

she remembers how, before she met you, she was just there--incomplete, always bouncing around, always tailing people. she was just that girl at the funeral parlor that somehow knows zhongli. she was just hu tao. she remembers how, just two weeks after you two had started dating, she'd become hutaoandyn. she'd become important.

when you sit her down at your perfect mahogany-colored dining table, your perfect hands cupping a warm, steaming tea, your earnest eyes staring into hers, saying i don't think this is working out anymore, she is convinced it's a nightmare. she lets the words flow over the top of her head, holding her breath so she wouldn't cry. she doesn't say anything (are there even words for this awful pain?), just swallows her burning tea and stands up. the chair makes an awful squeaking noise, probably scratching up the floors you love so much. and she thinks, i hope they get scratched up so bad that every time you see them you think of me. and then she had feels ashamed, and petty. she forces a smile and she waves goodbye, and then slams the door.

she sits in the car for what felt like ten years, tears dripping onto the steering wheel and the seat, her shoes in her hand, her nose burning. the sky is gray, the ground is gray, the clouds are taunting her. her fire is gray, the funeral parlor is bleak. there is no joy in steamed fish. there is no joy in pranking people, not without you.

glaze lilies bring to mind your love for puns, the way she would wake up every sunday morning with a fresh bouquet and a note pinned to them on her bedside table. her heart splits a little when she eats jueyun chili chicken, because it was your favorite. when it comes around to your birthday, she takes a long bath and cries until her throat is raw and her eyes are red and swollen. on her birthday, despite the party that her friends throw for her, she wonders if you're remembering her the way she remembers you.

xiao |

xiao has never been good with feelings, but he is completely head over heels in love for you. he would sprint in front of a moving train for you. he would stab himself for you. he would rip out his heart for you, except you've done it first.

words shouldn't be able to hurt this much, especially words coming from your mouth, your mouth which usually says, i love you, xiao. except this time, it's saying, maybe we should rethink our relationship. i think we need a break. and he knows that you aren't meaning to hurt him, just trying to move on, just trying to make yourself feel better, but that doesn't console him. he tries to make himself feel angry as you're talking to him, but he can't. it's as if he won't feel anything ever again, just the painful pressure in his head, the ringing of your voice in his ears.

do me a favor and break my nose, or tell me to go away, he screams at you, but just in his head. he loves you, still. he feels like a broken nose would hurt less than this, your patient, sympathetic smile, your cried-out eyes that show that you still care too. you reach for his hand, but he feels like your touch would burn, maybe it would make him shatter into a million pieces like glass. do people do that? do adepti do that? does anything alive do that at all?

he feels like he's drowning, like something's holding his head underwater. it's making your face all fuzzy. or maybe that's the tears in his eyes, or maybe he's tired. maybe he's so tired he's hallucinating the whole thing. but that would be too good to be true, because you're standing up and squeezing his shoulders and walking off.

he guesses that you won't have any more tea dates. and with that, he hurls his cup to the ground and watches it shatter.

raiden shogun |

raiden is unaccustomed to love, which is why it hurts more when you're breaking up with her. she had told you that she wasn't the right person to love, that she could hurt you, that she wasn't perfect. you had kissed her and told her that she was wrong, she was lying, of course she was perfect. despite her protests, she had fallen in love with you; your smile and your chin and your cheeks and your forehead. your hands, which hold hers.

she wants to slap you, make you hurt the way she does. she wants to kill you for how you made her love you and then you're making her stop. but of course, she can't stop. how could she ever not love you? you take her face in your hands and she melts, she slumps away. she tries to deny it to herself (of course you still love her!) but it feels like she's ripping away, like just a small gust of wind could strip her away to her skeleton.

bleakly, in her haze, she wonders if there's someone else. someone else who's stolen your gaze as she once did, who you think about at night and whisper stolen words into their ears. but then she thinks about you, and she realizes that would not be the case. you would be doing it because you would think that she wanted it, that she wanted space.

you kiss her cheek, and she thinks numbly, maybe if she was better at love, this wouldn't happen.

childe |

childe had never thrown himself into love as fervently as he did with yours. you could make him smile when he felt like he was dying, and your laugh had taken up a space in his brain reserved specifically for you.

he loved how the light dappling across your face could bathe you in such an ethereal glow, as if you were blessed by the archons. and, he guessed, sometimes you were. it's uncanny, the way your face showed no emotion as you took his hand and whispered, i think we need a break. his heart had shattered then, into a million pieces that dissolved into his body. maybe he could never fix it.

he stares at you, so blankly, you wonder maybe if he hasn't heard you. then he says, what? so softly, so sadly, it almost splits your soul apart. he thinks, probably, that no one will make him as happy as you did. perhaps he will never be happy again. this thought scares him, it rattles him, he never wants to forget your face.

he's never cried over someone before, but he does now. and the sight of his tears shock you, as if you've been dumped into an ice-cold bath and can't breathe. he's sobbing, hands curled into tight fists, waving you away, telling you to just go, please go, please, please go. you don't want to leave him, but you know his sadness will turn to anger and he will lash out. you press a kiss to his temple and he shouts, fuck off! fuck off and go!

as he watches you go, he thinks that simply "fuck off" might be too kind.

[desidarling123]

SAB Scene Breakdown: Inej's Hallucination

OK, so I had actually been meaning to write and publish some meta on this particular scene (and just tons of SAB S2 meta, in general) in the weeks after the second season of the show came out. But life has been crazy recently, so I truly never found the time.

However, I reblogged a certain gifset a few days/weeks ago, slapped some tags on it, and realized there might indeed be some interest in some more #detailed thoughts.

The analysis that follows is at a pretty minute level of detail (and all of course based on MY views) so... take that with a grain of salt.

Also - fair warning - it's long as hell 😂 but entertaining, I hope!

I find this whole sequence in general super fascinating - it's one of my favorite scenes in the second season, and one that's also arguably subject to the absolute worst takes in fandom (iykyk... and if you don't, well, you're about to find out.)

So, let's get into it:

We start off strong with a very specific choice, made early on: it's not Inej seducing Kaz; rather, it's Kaz who's drawing Inej into this vision.

I get a bit more into the broader implications of that a bit later, but it's definitely important that it's done this way, rather than the other way around.

It's also, very notably, an inverse of this scene from a few episodes earlier:

What's unique about that previous scene is that in that moment, he's deliberately pushing her away (for reasons, mind you, that she's not entirely privy to, but definitely hurt her regardless - even if she pretends not to care about it to his face later on).

This is different. Instead of pushing her away, he is asking her to stay.

The choice of words is specific too: the word 'disappear' most obviously references her status as his spider. But it might also be an apt description of her own personal trappings, of 'disappearing' when in the throes of trauma-induced pressure.

Some atmospheric details I love:

Their IRL confrontation was in his office-cum-bedroom (👀shutup), a tiny, crammed space that matched the tension of that scene. This is the opposite of that - the room has a more open layout, imbuing the whole sequence with a more relaxed vibe. We can even see his cane chilling on the table behind him, just in reaching distance.

The DeKappel painting which they jointly stole in the books (and presumably on the show as well) is behind them.

Fire burning as a symbol for latent passion is not exactly groundbreaking imagery, but don't fix what ain't broke, amirite? :P

Malina, very notably, gets the same fire imagery treatment in their own love scene as well:

Will it show up again in a future season for kanej? Between that and, well, the recurring church imagery, we're in for a tossup, folks

But anyways. Back to the scene at hand.

You'll notice Inej goes back to a formal stance, hands behind her back, like she's preparing for a debrief or for an assignment. It's for a few seconds, if that, but it shows that she's grasping at some semblance of normalcy in this decidedly not-normal vision.

That facade lasts for all of, two seconds, tops, when he does this:

It's sexy! It's intimate! There's knives involved!

Okay, but seriously, for the sake of time I actually will not get into a deeper discussion of the ~implications~ because I'm sure it's been done a zilllion times before and it's also fairly obvious lol

Now, the one thing I *do* want to pivot to here is that by this point, both Inej and the audience understand that there is something very subtly yet fundamentally different about hallucination!Kaz.

But what is it?

Speaking on this scene, Freddy Carter had a quote (that I cannot be arsed to find rn) where he basically said that he deferred to Amita when playing hallucination!Kaz because "she (Amita) knows better (than I do) what it is that Inej likes about Kaz"

And what is it, exactly, that she likes about him? The next few gifs tell all, using actions rather than words.

This is her reaction to him pulling her knives from her. And what I find so interesting is that she is so (rightfully) startled....

But that is absolutely NOT the expression on his face at all.

In fact, he's remarkably self-assured.

And THAT, I think, is the crux of 'what it is she likes about him', as Frreddy said.

She likes his decisiveness, the single-minded precision with which he operates.

She's seen him apply it to every last scheme, every seemingly-hopeless situation... to damn near everything in the world, really, but her.

But here, in the depths of her hallucination, he does.

There are none of his usual hangups, none of their typically frustrating back-and-forths.

No. Here, he doesn't hesitate. He wants her, and he makes it known.

Striking, sexy stuff, to say least.

Let's go on:

Nothing to add here except that I'm obsessed with the way their heads turn at the same time here.

It's funny, because for all their personal hang-ups when it comes to physical intimacy, these two are SURPRISINGLY physically attuned to each other.

Goes to show, really, how much both of their problems are in their heads (obviously) -- and how, when they're actually ready to heal, relying on their intuition may be a better approach than getting too cerebral about it.

Again, Kaz does not break eye contact with her here, and it's such a contrast to what he might have instead done if this were happening in real life - in fact, does happen, in real life, though I'd argue that isn't exactly his fault.

I love that we get a moment where Inej looks down and sees his hand hovering near her waist, just so that it's made explicitly clear what he's asking for and what the ~implications~ are.

And then, she says yes! Enthusiastically, I might add.

Not but seriously the sheer want, the little touch of eagerness on her face kills me here. She's never had this experience before - has only ever known men violating her in the most horrible way possible - and yet this tiny little thing, of Kaz asking her for consent, means so much.

Oh my God Kaz is so sexy here sorry no words anyway carrying on.

Now even after she said yes you can see this sudden little beat of hesitation on her face, like she's maybe not sure what's going to happen or if Kaz is going to do what she asked. For her it's a moment of incredible vulnerability, even though Kaz is the one sort of making the advances on her - because this one time, she actually gets to say yes.

I think that shot of his arm going around her waist is so gorgeous and so sensual - but as we pan up we can see that maybe all isn't well.

Now, Amita also really does a fantastic job at portraying the turbulence of Inej's emotions -- she goes from clearly wanting it and saying 'yes', to visibly panicking once he acts on it. We see her shift around in his grip and even swallow nervously, blink-blink-blinking herself back into the moment.

Her response is reminiscent of this passage from the books:

But what might have happened if he'd spoken that night? If he had willingly offered her some part of his heart? What if he had come to her, laid his gloves aside, drawn her to him, kissed her mouth? Would she have pulled him closer, kissed him back? Could she have been herself in such a moment, or would she have broken apart and vanished, a doll in his arms, a girl who could never quite be whole?

You can see the very beginning of that sort of panic start to set in, here. This is completely uncharted territory for Inej - her own desire, the shame and baggage that comes with it, is all getting uncovered for the first time in what is arguably the 'safest' way possible - within the confines of her own mind - and yet, she's still panicking.

More on that in a bit. Let's keep going.

Anyways well Freddy's got a huge hand sorry anyway 

I love the way she closes her eyes here. And you can see again it's not without effort - like there's still conflict within her, you can see all of those different emotions warring within her - but she is trying to let herself have this moment. She's trying to take comfort in this touch that she so desperately wants and yet hasn't had any sort of good connotations with in recent history. 

She also opens her eyes just as he starts to lean in and I think that was a great, deliberate choice on Amita and Freddy's part.

It's that precise moment, really, when it becomes super super clear to her what's about to happen.

No notes, I just really love this forehead lean, it's that little bit of tenderness and intimacy that she's been subconsciously craving.

 Again, it's fascinating to me that we can see all of Inej's nervous tics coming into play here, but for hallucination!Kaz there's absolutely no hesitation at any point whatsoever.

It looks like, for all intents and purposes, he is going to kiss her.

And then at the very very last second you see him move back, ever-so-slightly --

and then she moves all the way back and delivers her line:

Ouch. Like a punch to the gut. True, but still ouch.

Now one could probably ask, in hypotheticals: why didn't he actually kiss her at this moment? And the answer to that simply is: this is her hallucination, you know? Even though she's not conscious of it (she's dying lol), she's the one with all the power, here.

And truthfully, whether she knows it or not, nothing is going to happen in her hallucination if she doesn't want it to.

But wait, you might say. Doesn't she want to kiss Kaz?

Like that original excerpt from the book indicates, it's complicated. Everything pertaining to desire generally will be, for her.

Not that her subconscious doesn't put up a good ol' fight. Hallucination!Kaz, you have to remember, isn't so much Kaz as he is a very precise amalgamation of her own memories and desires.

And boy, does he make a good argument:

The word want, again, spoken so directly here - it's that sort of straightforward speech that neither party is actually really capable of (at this point) in their arcs, not when it comes to each other.

Again, Kaz is behaving perfectly in the prescribed character of his hallucination persona - direct, confident, not rattled in the slightest.

It's interesting also that he doesn't say: this is real. He isn't able to lie to her in her own fantasy, but he does instead tell her exactly what she wants to hear, which is arguably even more dangerous.

And what I feel so terrible about is you can see this tiny little spark this little bit of hope on her face that she has.

She wants to believe this so so badly. She wants it, damn it!

So this time, she actually moves closer, crosses that distance between them. 

You can't see it super well in this gif, but you can see a little tiny muscle twitch in her jaw, a nervous swallow as she's bracing for him to kiss her the second time. And once again, Kaz isn't hesitating, there isn't any note of that discordant thing that they have in real life from his end.

Now another thing that drives me crazy is people claiming that they did kiss in the scene like bro. Bro. Freddy and Amita did not shoot this scene at no less three separate angles for you to tell us that they kissed!! They didn't kiss, they make it incredibly obvious that they did not kiss, and if you're the one person on planet Earth whose definition of a kiss is front lips brushing for .0000000002 seconds then I'm sorry, you belong to a different category, okay?

And again, that was on purpose! It totally would have defeated the purpose of this particular sequence if they had (and would've given detractors of this scene a real leg to stand on - again, more on that at the very end.)

But as it stands, they don't kiss, and that's also kind of critically why this isn't just a sexy scene to watch back.

AND THEN (I'm out of allowed images HAHA) she pulls away. And she says the words that end it all - This isn't real. This is the poison.

The premise of the hallucination is completely shattered, and she looks so heartbroken, but she's finally able to articulate what she's really known this whole time, and that is that nothing she's seeing is real. It is a lie being fed to her by her poison-addled brain as her body slowly succumbs and dies (dark).

But you know, she does get out of it through sheer willpower, and we love her for that - but oh man but what cost?

This particular sequence is definitely a catalyst for her changed behavior going forward. I do actually wish it had been a little better handled in the show (as in, better supported by dialogue in scenes before and after this one) but regardless - this scene is a Big Tipping Point and starts what is essentially a pseudo-regression arc for Inej (paraphrasing Amita directly, bc that's truly the most apt description of Inej's behavior for the rest of the season.)

It's really bad timing, unfortunately, because it happens just as Kaz is starting to open up like never before. He's starting to see the world in a completely different light while she's doing the exact opposite -- she is shutting down her own dreams and desires when it comes to him, because she's come to the conclusion that it's simply not going to happen.

And you know what, she's not entirely wrong for that assumption, but I do have beef with some of the particulars of how it was executed in the show. But that's a discussion for another day.

Now, onto a brief rant that I alluded to at the very start of this post - my single biggest grievance with fandom is that someone on the internet decided that this scene somehow ‘erased’ Inej’s trauma, when in fact that exact trauma is what underpins the whole damn thing.

The fact that this scene more or less parallels the passage from the books beat for beat, shows, in my opinion, that book fans who make these claims of 'erasure' must have deliberately chosen to ignore this passage from the books, or never even read it in the first place.

Because frankly? Once you take that passage into consideration, the intent of this sequence couldn't have been more obvious!

Just to underscore my point, I want to ask anyone who's reading this to please compare and contrast Inej’s hallucination with Matthias’ dream. If the intent, as many so often like to claim, was simply to make this moment in Inej’s mind a sexy, titillating scene, well then, it would have been shot a lot more closely to the way Matthias’ dream was shot: there's no lack of kissing and even implied penetration (!) which is crazy, because of course, Matthias and Nina have gotten nowhere near that in real life.

There's a sexual aspect to her dream, for sure, but it's not a stereotypically-passionate 'sex dream' so much as it is a thinly-veiled reading into her own desires and the inner turmoil that comes with it.

There's also a very subtle undercurrent here that I picked up on and explore in my ongoing fic , which is that Kaz, in these fantasies, is really always the one taking the lead, so to speak. Inej is not pulling him close or asking to kiss him - and we see that even when she consents to the act, she looks like she's bracing herself for it, rather than excited that it'll happen.

That is fueled no doubt by 1) her realizing it isn't real but also 2) the fact that she is still very much in the middle of her own trauma (having been freed like what? mere days ago? if that?)

Any concept of her own independent desire is still saddled with IMMENSE baggage - and this sequence showcases it perfectly.

I think after the fact, she's consciously aware of 1) but not yet aware of 2) which is beating around in her subconscious and is probably gonna cause her WAYY more problems going forward lol

TLDR; Inej doesn't know it just yet, but she's got loads of her own issues to work through, and until she does, she's going to be stuck in this weird purgatory of being a voyeur to/of her own desires.

[creative-heart]

"My thoughts will echo your name"| Esteban Kukuriczka

CHAPTER II: "Startin' up a fire"

Playlist:

Liar- Camila Cabello

Only love can hurt like this- Paloma Faith

Favorite crime- Olivia Rodrigo

T.W: Slow burn; angst; couple’s argument, some ssexy thoughts. Word Count: 2.2k

That night after the party, Y/N laid in bed wide awake, all she could see whenever she closed her eyes where swirls of light brown hair accompanied by those gorgeous eyes of Esteban; she took a deep breath and looked to her left seeing Lucas fast asleep and bit her lip. All in all, he wasn’t a bad man, he had loved Y/N back together when they met, her being a utter mess. They used to get along so well, always that witty banter and laughter whenever they did anything and everything together, the smallest situation was a date to them. Somewhere along the way they had lost that, Y/N didn’t know if it had been after he graduated law school and started working, or if it had just been the routine of living together, but as of about six months ago, they had nothing to talk about. She tossed and turned, before deciding to just give up on sleep altogether and get up, she had some pictures to edit anyway. She threw an old big t-shirt on, before walking to the kitchen and making herself a cup of tea as she turned her laptop on.

Little did Y/N know, that Esteban was across town in no better situation than her, he stared at the ceiling, the movie of the night’s events replaying in his head and he groaned. -Why of all the women he knew, of all the ladies that were at that party did he have to find himself swooning over his best friend’s girlfriend.- He felt quite guilty about it to be honest, but he couldn’t help what he felt. Kuku couldn’t be imagining what he sensed between them, the spark was there, that chemistry, it all came so easy around Y/N, her name sounded so good when he spoke it as well. And those eyes, those gorgeous hazel eyes, they were so deep and earnest, Esteban knew nothing could be hidden from them. He groaned covering his face with a pillow, feeling himself growning restless, he got up and went to take a shower before heading to the kitchen to get a glass of water. He needed to get his mind of Y/N as soon as possible. As he rested against the kitchen counter taking a sip, he found himself looking through Instagram until he stumbled upon what seemed to be Y/N’s photography account; of course she was also talented, did she have no flaws?. 

As he went through the photos, he came across a couple of black and white portraits, one seemed to be of Y/N with her hair short, it really suited her -though Kuku started thinking that everything would suit her- next to that one, was a portrait of Amelia, he would recognize that face anywhere, he double tapped his friend’s photo and bit his lip. As Y/N sat at the kitchen table, dark room, her phone screen lit up with an IG notification, who could be on there at 5 in the morning?; she looked down at the little message bubble and felt the heat crawl up her cheeks, the notification read “kuku.esteban liked your post” it was one of her artistic account’s posts, -how had he come across that one- she opened the app and tapped on the profile looking at her screen for a while, debating whether or not she should hit the follow button, she finally did and closed her eyes. Kuku’s eyes widened, he didn’t expect her to reach back out, he got into her DM’s and typed a quick “up so late?”.

“Couldn’t sleep, what about you?” Y/N bit her lip, it felt wrong, as it had when they were talking on the bench at the party, maybe what felt wrong was what she felt while talking to him. Sure enough, her screen soon lit up again “same, mind wouldn’t shut up :/”, he took a deep breath and muttered “oh fuck it” he went through his contacts and called Y/N waiting for her to pick up, he almost hung up a couple of times.

“Hey insomnia partner” the girl greeted him on the other side, and everything felt quieter in his head. “couldn’t shut the mind up, huh? I wonder what might have been going through it” she said quietly playing with the hem of her shirt.

You, he thought “so many things to be honest, it’s nice knowing I’m not alone” he smiled biting his lip it’s nice knowing it’s you. “For example, I was thinking about those pictures you got on Instagram, you’re really talented Y/N” the girl could feel the heat rushing to her face once more “I mean it, it’s hard getting that kind of emotion on a portrait, I think I’ve chosen the perfect teacher for my new adventure”. They talked for so long that Y/N didn’t even notice when the sun had come out.

~~~~~

Few days later, Y/N waited for Esteban to show up at the park where they had agreed to meet so that she could show him some photography tips. Fidgeting with her hands far more nervous that she had expected to be, though it was true they had been talking more and more everyday, by text and through the phone, on those late nights when Lucas was still working and Y/N was left to have dinner and go to bed on her own, kuku had been a steady companion. She was lost in deep thought when Esteban approached her from behind and placed her the coffee order she had told him was her favorite on one of their chats in front of her face “Penny for your thoughts sugar?” The tall guy said softly as he sat down.

Y/N smiled taking the cup and took a sip of the hot beverage “Hazelnut caramel latte, you remembered?” she looked up at him, smile still plastered on her face “just thinking” she shrugged “how have you been?” Esteban took a long sip of his coffee looking at every single detail on her face. Lucky bastard you are Lucas he thought to himself as she spoke; absolutely taken by the way her eyes fluttered shut when she took a sip from her coffee, as if she needed to focus all her senses on the smell and taste of the drink, the soft noises that escaped her as she drank, making the guy spiral down into a dark train of thought. The past few days he had found himself constantly thinking about the blonde woman sitting across from him on the grass and how good she would surely look naked beneath him, how hot and yet sweet it would be to hear his name coming out of her in soft moans; wondering how would her hazel eyes look darkened by lust. He found himself being snapped back into reality by Y/N’s hand waving in front of his face. “Earth to kuku” she chuckled “where did you go? I’ve been talking to you for like five minutes dude”.

He rubbed the back of his neck quite embarrassed “sorry sorry, I got distracted” he smiled sheepishly. Y/N smiled nodding softly as she looked at him- how can a grown man look so adorable and sexy all at the same time? god I’d like to photograph him some time-. “Ok, so I’ve been going through your photography on instagram, how do you get such raw emotions from people? how are you able to draw emotions from places? that is baffling to me, honestly woman, how can one be so talented?” Y/N blushed hard looking down, no one had ever praised her work so much before.

“I don’t know really, I just capture what I see, I guess emotion’s just there, with people, you just need to capture them while they just are, not make them pose, posing drives everything out, but I don’t think my work is that remarkable to be honest, not enough to support myself at least” she smiled softly; as Esteban finished his coffee she took her camera and snapped a few pictures of him “like this for instance, you look like you could be Vogue’s next cover” she smiled showing him the picture she had just taken.

And that’s how the afternoon went on, shared between laughs, chats and pictures. Y/N kneeled behind him to show him how to frame a shot, her head landing right on his right shoulder “and now, once you’ve found what you like, you hold yourself still, and press the button” she said softly looking more at the guy’s profile than the picture, biting the inside of her lip;- had he always smelled this good? perfect mix between musky wood and something sweet she couldn’t place, oh lord she could nuzzle her face in his neck all her life- The hazel eyed woman cleared her throat moving away a bit and smiled “just like that, see? not so difficult, you’ll get the hang of it in no time.”

Esteban had caught her looking at him through the corner of his eye and had to hold back from kissing her and took a deep breath “with a teacher as good as you, no doubts”. He needed to pull it together, Y/N was Lucas’ girlfriend, it’s his best friend he was talking about- pull it together Kukuriczka, this is not funny anymore.

~~~~~

As Y/N made her way back to her place, she sent the pictures from that afternoon to Kuku, having her camera linked to her phone. 

Y/N/N 🤞:This way, you can go back to these later on, when you want to check your first work ;) 

Y/N/N 🤞: I had a really good time today by the way, thank you, I really needed to get out of my place, those walls can get trapping.

Esteban looked down at his phone smiling at the texts like a damn school boy and quickly texted back.

Kuku 🤭: thanks for the pictures, and I’m also glad that I could help you feel better, always happy to help a damsel in distress 🤭 

He mentally cursed himself for that stupid reply. As Y/N got home, she uploaded the portrait oh him to her instagram with the quote “deep in thought @kuku.esteban” she smiled and put her phone down going to take a shower letting the warm water run through her body. As the blonde woman was going through her after shower ritual, humming softly to the music she had playing from her phone, she heard the slam on the front door and closed her eyes knowing Lucas was home, and probably in a bad mood.

“Where are you Y/N!?” he called out, the angry tone evident in his voice. Y/N walked out of their bedroom in her pjs and looked at him her face rid of all emotion as she could sense the argument coming her way, god knows why now.

“Hey babe, how was your day?” she said in the most agreeable tone she could master.

“How was my day? It was great until I saw your fucking picture on Instagram, what’s that about you going out on a lil coffee date with my best friend? Do you think I’m fucking stupid?” She looked at him, her eyebrows quirked up in disbelief.

“Are you serious right now? Not like I owe you any fucking explanations, cause you’re not the boss of me, but Kuku and I went to the park because he wants to learn some photography, and knowing I’m a photographer he wanted my help. Also, can’t I get along with one of your friends? You should know better than to accuse me of cheating, you of all people, when I forgave the things I did to be with you Lucas! what cheekines you have” Her tone getting louder and louder as her blood boiled hotter in her veins.

“Oh please Y/N you must really think I am in fact stupid, that, or you’re the dunce, because I could see the way Esteban was looking at you at the party! he was all but undressing you with his eyes all night!” he crossed his arms over his chest.

“At least someone was if what you say’s true! you haven’t even looked in my direction in over six months!” she finally cried out, feeling surpassed by the situation and tired, just completely exahusted of the arguments being the only kind of interactions they had these days. “Why don’t you just fucking go to your parents, or wherever you fucking want tonight, cause I honestly don’t wanna stare at your face right now!” As soon as those words left her mouth and she saw Lucas turn around so easily and slam the door again on his way out she regretted it. She knew she had just pushed him into Alma’s arms with what she had said, not that it took much for him to run back to her, as much as Lucas had sweared that was over years ago, she never fully trusted it, and as bad as their situation was, she still loved the man for some reason. 

Y/N sat down on the staircase holding her knees to her chest trying to protect her heart in any possible way, she wanted to run, she needed to run, but she had no idea where to, all she could think about was Esteban’s kind eyes and warm smile, and how much she’d like to be in his embrace tonight.

Taglist:

@madame-fear @cyliarys-starlight @castawaycherry @luceracastro @espinasrubi @lastflowrr @koiibiito @candycanes19 @nperoconelcositoarriba @lxdyred @deepinsideyourbeing