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#but really the only way i can describe it
healmydesires · 2 days
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sweet like sugar ꕤ (l.h)
part one
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pairing: Logan Howlett x fem!reader
summary: Now that Logan was finally able to call you his, he couldn’t get enough of you.
OR
Logan fucks you from behind.
genre: fluff + smut (18+ mdni)
word count: 3,7k
warnings/tags: friends to lovers, roommates to lovers, thunderstorms, literally the scene right after this fic, porn with NO plot, reader is described as shorter than logan, inexperienced!reader, hint at loss of virginity, unprotected sex, piv sex, doggy style, soft!dom logan, ok… just in overall bye, logan is soft for reader, sub!reader, creampie, overstimulation, major size kink, praise kink, dirty talk, logan talks you thru it. a lot more daddy kink in this one ngl. HEAVY ON THE BREEDING kink aaaaa sorry. I am still ovulating. they’re both FREAKS. scent kink? reader is also ovulating bye. lots of pet names. logan is worshipping his sweet girl ok! reader is a mutant but it’s not really mentioned in this part tho. reader has hair, no further description though. this is not beta read sorry!
a/n: GUESS WHAT!!! I finished part two that I wanted to originally post in the main fic but it kinda felt out of place idk either way!! I’m posting it now 🤪 I thought I’ll write what I WANT to read. this is high key self indulgent. english isn’t my first language so pls bear with me <3 this is just smut😭 I literally wrote this while ovulating…
this goes without saying, but if you don't like it don't read it <3
AO3 • masterlist
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Logan manhandled your body, guiding your body so that you were lying on your stomach. He manoeuvred you in the position he wanted you to be. His hands came to hold your hips, pulling them up, your ass in the air for him.
He kneads the flesh of your cheeks before spreading them apart for him. Your body slumped slightly forward with exhaustion but Logan is quick to grip your hips, holding you in the same position. “Oh kitten, I’m not done with you yet.” He tutted.
You whimpered, feeling his eyes on your wet heat as it clenched repeatedly, aching and begging to be filled all over again and again. Logan growled as he stared at your entrance as your combined cum dripped down your hole, as you continued to clench around nothing. Your body trembled with anticipation.
Logan had made sure you’d cum several times before he took you for the first time. Before tonight, you were so inexperienced, a virgin actually. Now, all you could think about was that you wanted and needed him to continue and fuck you for hours, filling your pussy with his cum over and over again.
He leaned over you, covering your whole body with his own. Logan nuzzled your neck as he littered your skin with his kisses. You writhed against him, wishing he was just pushing his cock in you already and filling you up in the best way.
The air was stuffy all around you, each harsh breath released only thickening it up, leaving your skin hot and your mind fuzzy. Logan groaned into your ear, mouthing kisses along your neck, tongue trailing down the junction between your neck and shoulder before he gently nipped your skin.
Logan reached down to grasp his cock to line up with your tight entrance. He rubbed his tip firmly over your pulsing hole. Your mind was all over the place as his ministrations continued.
“Fuck, can’t wait to fill you up again.”
His breath caught in his throat as his cock smeared his pre cum against your already cum filled hole. The usual restraint between his mind and his words seemed to vanish, as words tumbled from his mouth.
“I wonder if you can handle this position already.” He whispered almost to himself as his hands kneaded your ass cheeks. “Your tiny pussy could barely handle my cock earlier…”
“No, daddy… I can take your big cock.” You whined desperately as you tried to push your hips against his own, hoping he’d enter your pussy again. You were squirming, as you kept trying to push his cock inside you, but Logan had a strong hold on you, which made it hard for you to move around too much. “I’m daddy’s good girl.”
At your words Logan growled, grasping your hips and tilting them more and pushed your trembling legs further apart.
Logan inhaled sharply. “You smell so good, kitten. I can smell your fertility. Your little pussy is practically begging for my cum.” He murmured against your ear. Your cheeks flushed with heat at his words. Logan continued as he pressed tender kisses down your neck, “Can’t wait to breed this pussy again and again with my cock. All night.” Logan moaned and you hissed at the heated sensation of his cock, your eyelids fluttering when you felt it press against your entrance.
A broken gasp left your lips as he finally slid the tip inside you. You felt his body moving behind you, sitting up against you, and you knew his eyes were on your pussy. He watched as your walls spread to try and begin to wrap around him. You whimpered at the new angle as you tried to accommodate his girth. He could barely get more of it in your tight walls at first, eventually using more force to open you up for him. It felt like you were being torn open, split in half.
“D-d-daddy…” you stuttered and mewled.
“I know baby girl, I know.” Logan moaned as he gradually slid more of his thickness inside you and you trembled more underneath him. Your pulsing walls were wrapped tightly around his cock, as your soaked pussy pulled him in more. The pressure of his massive dick deep within your walls overwhelmed you while you clutched the sheets below you in tight fists.
Logan towered over you, as he pushed more of his length inside you, his gaze focused on your clenching hole as his dick slowly disappeared more and more inside you.
You arched your back as you clung onto the bed sheets for dear life, nails digging into the comforters. You couldn’t keep quiet, little mewls and whimpers tumbled past your lips with ease as Logan slid inside.
“Ah, daddy… so big.” You whined.
“You take me so well, pretty girl. Doing so good for daddy.” He moaned as he leaned down to press a soft kiss against your cheek, as he kept pushing more of his girth in you slowly. Every time Logan would slide more inside your pussy would squeeze around him. You knew he was barely halfway in, still you felt so full.
“So full…”
“I know my sweet girl, I know. You’re doing so well, soon you’ll be filled with all of daddy’s cock.”
The whines and whimpers and moans kept spilling from your lips as Logan continued to push deeper and deeper. Your hands trembled as they gripped the sheets between your fingers while he penetrated your tight walls.
“P-please, need more. I can handle it daddy…” you whimpered as you tried to push back your trembling body against him, his cock sliding deeper inside you.
He groaned at your desperate whines and as you pushed back against him , losing his composure momentarily as he thrust the rest of his thick cock all the way inside your wetness. The head of his cock touched your cervix once he bottoms out. A scream left your mouth as you trembled underneath him, your pussy trying to adjust to his size as it clenched around his cock. You pushed your head into the pillows as pathetic whimpers kept falling from your lips.
“Christ, you’re so warm—fuck—so tight,” he growled, rambling without a thought, too enveloped in the feeling of your tight walls wrapped around him.
You moaned and squeezed around his cock at his words, leaving him panting above you. Both of his hands moved to grab at your ass cheeks, kneading them slowly and gently.
“God, sweetheart, you’re so fucking hot… and wet. How are you this tight?” Logan groaned — the deep timbre of his voice reverberating through the air.
There was an intense pressure deep within your stomach — Logan’s thick cock throbbed erratically inside you. The feeling of him nestled so deep within you had you sighing in pleasure. There was still a dull ache — from how wide he stretched you out; your walls pulled apart to their limits — but pleasure soon replaced the stinging ache. Gradually, you adjusted to Logan’s size and with an experimental swivel of your hips, you cried out in pleasure.
Fingers were digging harder into your ass, soft grunts and pants escaped his lips as you moved your hips slowly back against him. “Fuck— that’s it, baby. Grind all over my cock—you feel so good,” Logan growled as his head fell back. The soft murmuring of his voice ripped through the room, the sounds of his own pleasure intermingled with yours.
“Fuck, Logaaaan,” you whined — drawing out the syllables of his name. His hands were still on your ass — holding the plump flesh in his large hands while he squeezed and spread them apart.
Pleasure seeped into your veins, and you began grinding and squeezing more feverishly against him. Short gasps of pleasure slipped from your lips, as you felt his cock pulse inside your tight walls.
“Kitten, fuck, I can’t wait anymore. Need to fuck you.” He slurred and panted above you — euphoric elation dripped from his words. Your stomach twisted — the heat inside caused your stomach to flip and turn with every one of your movements. “Need to breed this pussy.”
“Ah, Lo—”
Both your breaths laboured as you’d feel his hips move, quickly pulling himself almost all the way out of your pussy, as you whined at the empty feeling. “Such a needy pussy.” Logan growled before he thrust himself all the way inside your cunt again.
“Ah ah fuck, daddy… oh my god—” you hiccup as he moved his hips slowly but hard against yours. You cried out as he thrust so deep inside you that it had your body slumping against the bed. Your pussy continued to pulse and squeeze around his thickness, as it tried to adjust to its girth still.
“Pussy needs to be filled all the time ain’t that right?” He groaned as he punctuated every word with a thrust.
You moaned loudly as you arched your back and pressed your ass up against him. He grabbed your asscheeks, keeping the angle perfect as he rolled his hips deeply into yours. You felt his cock throbbing inside you as you tightened around him.
He was so deep, hitting your cervix repeatedly which made your eyes roll back in your head.
“F-fuck baby girl, you’re so sexy like this.” Logan slowly picked up his pace at the sight of you throwing your head back. “You’re all mine, isn’t that right kitten?”
With every thrust, you couldn’t help but cry out in pleasure. Not only was Logan’s cock thick, but he was incredibly long too, his length just slightly curved: which allowed his head to drag against that sweet spot inside you.
Large hands moved to your hips, Logan gripped them tightly as he helped you move against him. Every movement had hot spikes of pleasure jolting across your skin, your toes curled in elation while your stomach twisted and knots violently. The ecstatic bliss of your impending orgasm called to you and you began bouncing your ass against him.
“Ah, y-yes yes yes, I’m all yours. P-please please f-fuuuck, I need m-mo—” you begged and you’re unable to finish your sentence as he gave you a particularly hard thrust.
You felt your arms almost giving out on you because of the force of his thrusts. Logan’s hands were clawing at the sides of your hips, guiding you with him, and he leaned down to place kisses on your upper back, his kisses travelled down your spine, until he leaned back up and just watched you as he fucked into you from behind.
Skin melded together, your sweat acting as a glue, you lost yourself into the feel of Logan. Your mind goes blank as all you could do was focus on the feeling of him stretching you, filling you up, so overwhelmed with bliss already. He thrust deeper inside you, which earned him whines and moans as you continued to cry out his name. You tried to tell him, breathlessly, about how good he made you feel.
The sound of your pleasure fuelled his desire to fuck you better, urged him to do more.
Logan picked up his pace, thrusting into you quicker, harder, hitting the spot that had your body going numb.
From above you, Logan fucked harder — his cock thrusting deeper into you. The additional sensation caused you to whimper, your pussy twitched as sheer, unadulterated bliss began flitting through your bloodstream. You were close — so close you could practically taste your orgasm; even if your mouth was completely dry from gasping his name and calling him daddy over and over again.
You clawed at the sheets, burying your face into the pillow to muffle your screams. The air was all stuffy around you as his hips moved faster, you whimpered as you tried to push back your hips against his to take more of his big cock. Your tiny pussy was so full of him, still trying to accommodate his thick girth as it pulsed and tightened around him. Logan moaned at the sight, kneading your ass as he tried to bury himself more inside you, his tip hitting your cervix instantly. Your eyes rolled back inside your head once again as you dug your fingers more into the bed, you mewled against the sheets at the overwhelming pleasure he was giving you.
You whined loudly as he shifted inside you, the new angle made him hit your sensitive spot inside you.
“Fuuuck,” Logan moaned. Your pussy was so wet and warm around him, your walls squeezed his cock with every thrust, “feels so good, kitten. You’re taking daddy’s cock so well.”
Your noises became louder and higher pitched as he continued his assault on your pussy, indicating that you were getting closer as well as the lewd sounds of your pussy that kept meeting his cock over and over again. The sounds mixed so well with your desperate cries.
Logan couldn’t help it, you looked so pretty like this. Fucked out beneath him and so fucking full of his cock, the closer he got to his orgasm the more the images of you filled with his cum consumed his thoughts.
“Your pussy is so tight and wet around me, begging me to fill you up in other ways… begging for my cum.” He groaned as he thrust harder into your heat. “Begging for me to breed her.”
“God, daddy-daddy please. Fuck I—” You whined as your eyes rolled back inside your head.
“What do you want, kitten?” He groaned while one of his hands reached around you to slip against your clit as you writhed against him as he applied pressure. The pleasure had the tension tightening in the pit of your stomach, dying for your release.
Suddenly, everything became too much: the pressure against your clit, his grunts, the sticky, sweaty feeling, his scent, his warmth, the drilling of his cock inside you. Just everything. You tried to catch your breath but from how Logan was thrusting inside you and the rubbing against your clit it felt almost impossible to do so.
“F-feels s-soo— F-fuck, I-I, daddyyyy—”
“Look at you,” he chuckled breathlessly, “so cock drunk and so fucked out you can barely talk.” He whispered once he leaned down as he buried his head in the crook of your neck, as he picked up his pace once again. He fucked you so fast and hard that you swore you never moaned so loud in your life. “Don’t worry, I think I know what you need.”
He leaned his body completely against yours as he continued to hit against your cervix repeatedly while one of his hands kept rubbing your little bundle of nerves. “Feels good doesn’t it, sweet girl?” You whimpered and trembled underneath him as you nodded, he moaned against your ear before he whispered close to you. “Does it feel good? That I’m fucking you like this? Just the way you wanted it.”
“Y-yes! F-feels sooooo so gooood, Looo—” you whined as he continued to hit your sensitive spots inside you. Logan’s fingers kept pressing down on your little nub making you squirm. The tension continued to build up as the pleasure became too overwhelming.
“That’s right, princess.”
Logan snapped his hips into you again and again, thrusting deep, causing you to see stars from knowing just how to pleasure you. You felt like your head was swimming once again as you whined. “I’m sooo so close, p-please… daddy… I’ve been such a good girl.” you begged desperately. You only needed one more little push, a little bit more attention to finally reach your peak again.
“Yes, you’ve been such a good girl for daddy.” He panted above you.
You cried out for him, your moans almost sounding like his name as he moved his head down again, pressing kisses all over the side of your face down your neck.
“Can’t wait, fuck—“ he breathed, he stopped himself to let out a loud groan, “can’t wait to fill you up. I keep dreaming about filling you up nice and good. ”
The words made you keen and pulse around his cock, as you moaned his name into the warm air of your bedroom. You wanted more, needed to hear more, wanted to know what else he wanted, what else he dreamed of but your voice was strangled, your brain incapable of forming a sentence.
“I keep dreaming about breeding this pussy until you’re fuckin’ pregnant.” He grunted before he whispered in your ear, “be a good girl and cum for daddy.”
“Fuck, oh my god,” you cried, a shrill wail as Logan’s words went straight to your pussy. Your cunt gushed all over Logan’s cock as he never stopped. His thrusts were hard and deep, enough to turn your vision starry.
“That’s it… that’s it, let go pretty girl.” He murmured lowly into your ear.
His hips never slowed down as he massaged your clit. And then the coil in your lower tummy snapped, your eyes rolled back into your head while you arched your back as your world dissolved into pure ecstasy. You couldn’t stop yourself from shaking as he talked you through it. You almost blacked out because of the intensity of your orgasm, trembling like crazy. You whimpered as the overstimulation got to you.
“Doing so good for me, baby.” He groaned as his pace became more erratic, with less finesse as he charged towards his own finish line. “Daddy wants to fill you up. N-need to fuck my cum into you, kitten. Breed you and get you nice and full…”
Your walls pulsed and tightened around him as he continued to hit your sweet spot inside you. He groaned as his movements became more sloppy. He cried out your name with a gasping breath. Loud mewls left your lips as he finally spilled his seed inside you, coating each inch of you with a warmth that pooled deep inside you. An instant wave of pleasure rolled throughout your body as he filled you up with his hot cum.
“Ah...” you whimpered underneath him as your body continued to shake.
He kept fucking his cock inside of you, fucking his cum deep inside of you until he was satisfied. Logan exhaled deeply as he came down from his high, his body slumping against your own. His cock was still lodged deep inside you, still half hard as he kept the cum inside your pussy. You whimpered as your pussy pulsed around him, as it kept clenching repeatedly around his still hard length.
You tried to catch your breath as Logan groaned while you continued tightening involuntarily around him. “Kitten,” he warned breathlessly, “don’t do that.”
“I can’t really help it.” You said under your breath.
He gently pulled out of your tiny spent hole, making you whimper at the loss and you felt his eyes on you, knowing that he watched his seed drool out of you. Your legs were spread wide, and your pussy slightly gaping from where he’d fucked you open. But he was much more focused on how his cum leaked out of you, his seed dripping down your hole. Chest swelling with pride, he couldn’t help but let out a lazy smile.Your pussy continued to clench repeatedly around nothing and he groaned at the sight. Logan made sure to plunge his pointer finger into your hole as you gasped, stuffing you back up with your shared cum.
You winced at the sensation, a whimper slipped from your lips at the sensitivity. Pressing a kiss to your knee, “We’ll have to clean you up,” Logan mumbled, even as he continued pushing his fingers inside you.
“Not now, I’m tired,” you murmured back whiningly. When the ache of oversensitivity got too much, you bat Logan’s hand away before you closed your legs.
With a low laugh, Logan pressed an apologetic kiss to your knee before picking you up effortlessly, making you yelp in surprise. “Up you go.” You were about to complain that you could walk perfectly to the bathroom on your own, when you felt sore and your legs felt incredibly numb.
Once he reached the bathroom, he sat you down on the edge of the bathtub all while running the water and surprising you with your favourite bath bomb, to create a bubble bath. It brought a smile to your face knowing he knew so much about you.
“Logan… how is it that you always know what I need?” You whispered as you looked at him dreamily.
“Isn’t that what your best friend and new boyfriend should know?” He gave you a teasing smile.
“Either way, thank you.” You whispered before pressing a soft kiss to his cheek.
“Anything for you, sweetheart.”
You leaned into Logan's gentle support as the tub filled. When it was ready, he carefully lifted you and helped you into the warm water. Looking up, you moved towards the centre, silently inviting him to join. Logan eased in behind you, and you shifted forward slightly so he could settle comfortably. The soothing warmth enveloped you both as you relaxed against him, relaxing instantly in the peaceful moment.​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​
His strong arms encircled your waist, drawing you closer until you were nestled securely against him. You let out a contented sigh, feeling the solid warmth of his chest behind you. The gentle rise and fall of his breathing was soothing, and you found yourself relaxing even further.
“I love you,” he whispered, his breath soft against your ear. His lips then traced a tender path down your neck, each kiss a gentle affirmation of his words. The sweet gesture sent a pleasant shiver through you.
A smile spread across your face as you settled deeper into his embrace, feeling utterly at peace. The moment felt perfect — safe, warm, and full of affection. You shifted against him, shuffling around as you moved closer into him in the water, you pressed your naked body against his. Face to face once again. Easily, your legs tangled together, and closing your eyes, you let his words and the comfort of his presence wash over you. Your heart swelled with emotion as you replied, your voice soft but filled with certainty.
“I love you too.”
In that quiet moment, surrounded by his warmth and care, you felt truly cherished. The storm outside seemed to fade away, leaving just the two of you in your own little bubble of contentment.​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​ And that’s how the rest of the night went, tender kisses and soft touches shared between you two as you enjoyed each other's company. Feeling so loved and at home as you melted in his embrace.
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mickandmusings · 2 days
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indifferent
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pairing: jake 'hangman' seresin x f!reader
word count: 2.4k
summary: a year ago, the sight of jake seresin would've sent her into a flurry of tears. now, as she stares at him chatting up the bleach-blonde at the bar, all she feels is a deep hatred for the man who charmed the room with his stupid texan accent and encapsulating green eyes.
warnings: 18+ MDNI!!! seriously, this is actually a lot more smutty than usual for me; this is my first attempt at more serious smut so it's not good but we're trying new things!; angsty yet fluffy; exes to enemies to lovers (these two hate each other); no use of Y/N; sort of mean!jake, but not really; reader is described as wearing a skirt
based on megan moroney's 'indifferent'
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As she walks into the Hard Deck, she's convinced the universe is doing everything it can to royally fuck her over.
She'd hoped for a nice night with some random but handsome Naval personnel, make him pay for drinks, give him a rather steamy and heavy make out session, and leave before it can go any further. When she enters from the beach side doors, her eyes scan the room for...Brayden? Brandon? Brian? She couldn't really remember the name attached to his Tinder profile, only remembering the beauty of a Bronco in his pictures, but he wasn't important. What was really important was the spine-chilling hate crawling up her chest as she spots the khaki-uniform-clad blonde at the bar.
Jake fucking Seresin.
Her eyes narrow, knowing her night had already soured, and it hadn't even started. She and Jake had a....history, of sorts. By history she meant deep-seeded rage and hatred for one another after a failed relationship. A year ago, she had been in a mutually exclusive relationship with the aforementioned Lieutenant Seresin, well, one she had thought had been mutually exclusive. Until she found herself worrying and fretting every time he went out with his friends. And her gut had been right, because only six months into the relationship she'd had the dreaded 'hey girl, is this your man?' message sitting in her Instagram DM. When he came home that night and had denied it all, vehemently, she might add, it had escalated to a screaming match and her storming out of the house. From that moment on, she hadn't even bothered to check-in on what he was doing in his life. She hated Jake Seresin, and as much as she told herself she was indifferent to what he was doing with the bleach-blonde giggling next to him at the bar, she knew her skin itched to ruin his night.
Instead, she decided to be the bigger person. In her direct line of vision, she found an empty table in the corner and made her way towards it. She had passed the bar successfully, and she was merely inches away from taking her claim on the seat when his southern accent tumbles into her ears.
"Didn't expect to see you here, darlin'."
Fuck me now.
She takes a deep breath before turning around meeting his tall figure. He hadn't changed, still muscular and broad, big green eyes and well-kept blonde hair. She rolls her eyes, tapping her nails against the table nonchalantly. She didn't care about him, and she would not fall victim to his charms-never again.
"What do you want, Seresin?"
His eyes widen, a shit-eating grin creeping on his face as he raises his hands in mock surrender.
"Damn, sweetheart, I'm just sayin' hello."
"Yeah I bet. Hey, Jake. Now, you better scurry back to your girl at the bar before she gets scooped up by one of your little Navy buddies."
He looks back at Coyote's girlfriend he had been casually catching up with, certainly not flirting, but if it riled up the girl in front of him, well, then he'd play into it. Jake shrugs, sliding his hands into his pockets.
"Not too worried about it, not really interested."
Yeah, I bet.
"So what do you want with me? Because you're not here to play catch up, Seresin."
Jake takes a good look at her, she's obviously here for a date. Her outfit is casual enough for the bar, but accents her curves enough to attract some appeal. Even enough to make his own pants feel tight. Whoever she was here with was one damn lucky man, no matter how jealousy burned at Jake's chest.
"You look good tonight."
She audibly scoffs, rolling her eyes at the compliment.
"If you're here to grovel about what happened, save it. You should've done that a year ago."
Jake bristles, annoyed. Their blow-up fight had been a simple case of misunderstanding. He hadn't been flirting with the girl at the bar that night, he'd been helping her escape a creep who had been following her around the bar. He had to admit, the photo had been a little...compromising, when taken out of context. She'd never even given him a chance to explain himself before blowing it out of the water. They'd both yelled at one another, not bothering to hear either side of the other's statements. She left full of shaking anger, and he hadn't seen her since, until now.
"Maybe I could've groveled if you would've listened to me for two damn minutes."
She swings her head around, her own feelings bristling as she raises her voice.
"Listen to you?! The evidence was pretty damn convincing, Jake!"
He breathes deeply, cutting his green eyes to Phoenix standing at the pool table. The brunette lifts a brow in his direction. Jake knows this is going to escalate quickly, both of their tempers flaring, and for the sake of not ruining his reputation in front of his coworkers, he grips her arm and takes her outside to the parking lot.
"What the fuck are you doing?! Get your hands off of me!"
As they approach the spot where his truck is parked, he lets go of her and she crosses her arms.
"You're yellin' at me like some kind of crazy in there. My teammates are in there-"
"Oh! God forbid the great Hangman is embarrassed in front of his friends."
She's angry, flaring with an annoyance so great she's blind to what she's saying. Jake, a man known for his ego, seems to flare in the same manner. His voice is biting when he speaks.
"That's not what I meant, and you know it!"
"I swear to God, you must get off on the idea of pissing me off!"
They're loud, yelling over one another about trivial things-her being here on a date, him flirting at the bar with another girl, stupid things that didn't amount to much, but nearly anything could fuel the fire between them. Both were still ridiculously attracted to one another, despite everything, and their feelings ran deep. Jake's face is red-between the heat of California and his searing annoyance, he had begun to work up a sweat. Not to mention how incredibly hot she looked when she was pissed. Their voices could not get any louder at one another, spouting off any detail they could think of. Finally, it draws to a head when she spits out her next sentence, her tone biting.
"You know, I fucking hate you, Jake Seresin."
Jake chuckles dryly, no humor lacing his tone.
"That's a harsh claim comin' from the girl givin' me fuck me eyes."
She recoils, crossing her arms over her chest. She knows he's right, despite her annoyance with him, she knows there's still a fire between them, one she tries to swallow despite her blood burning and her heart racing.
"You wish, asshole."
"Yeah, I do."
His response shocks her, his tone softer than before, but his eyes nearly predatory. He can feel his usual roomy uniform grow tight, his jaw clenched tightly. Her eyes dart between his own as they glimmer in the moonlight, and she finds herself unable to find a retort. No worries, Jake's voice oozes with charm and seduction.
"What? Cat got your tongue all of a sudden, darlin'? You sure were all talk only a few seconds ago."
"Y-You don't mean that."
Her voice comes out small and unsure, her throat feeling dry and her entire being throbbing with the tingle of desire.
"Don't mean what?"
He comes closer, eyes never falling from her own, his calloused hands coming around her hips. He almost expects her to flinch out of his touch, but she lets him hold her against his own hips. She can see and feel the evidence of his own arousal, the usual light color of his eyes dark with lust.
"You think I'd lie about wantin' you? You're a damn fool if you think that, I've thought about you since the night you ran out my door."
She stills, her heart racing as she manages to form a thought.
"Y-You cheated on me, I'm not falling for this."
She goes to turn from his hold, but his grip on her hips is tight.
"No."
His voice is firm, demanding.
"That ain't what happened. You just never gave me a second to explain it. So I'm gonna talk, and you're gonna listen, got it?"
His voice was serious, but he was never intimidating or scary. Jake might be an asshole, but he'd never lay a hand on her, not like that.
"I wasn't flirtin' with that girl, never did, not once. That girl asked me to help her, and whoever sent you pictures of us got it all out of context. I might be a dick but I wouldn't do that to you, and I thought you knew that."
She looks at him, conflicted between wanting to jump his bones or punch him square in the jaw. She settles on simply asking a question.
"So why did you never try to call me? O-Or text me to explain?"
"Would you have listened?"
She already knew the answer to that.
"No."
He raises an eyebrow, nodding his head in a knowing look. Both halves of the couple are quiet for a minute, not knowing where to go from here. She's the first to break the silence.
"So, what does this mean?"
Jake shrugs.
"Nothin' if you don't want it to. But if you want me like I want you right now, I'd be okay with that, too."
The heat-filled tension is almost palpable, both of their chests heaving with barely contained want. Jake wants nothing more than to throw her over his shoulder and take her in the backseat of his truck, but this isn't his decision. It's hers-she has to decide if he's what she wants.
She cocks her head to the side before looking back up at him.
"And if I do want you like you want me?"
He feels himself twitch in his godforsaken uniform.
"Then you say the word and I'll make you forget whatever little shit you came here to meet."
In all honesty, she already had forgotten about...Bryson? Fuck, she really couldn't remember the poor guy's name.
"I swear to God, Seresin, if you don't touch me I'll lose my fucking mind."
Jake grins, pulling her flush against him.
"Well we can't have that can we, darlin'?"
His lips meet her own with little warning, a frenzy of clashing teeth and fumbling hands. Jake's hands meet on her back dangerously low, before he's placing his palms flat on her ass, pulling her up and her legs wrap around his waist. Her body flames at even the smallest stimulation, and when his hard-on meets her core, she lets out a provocative moan. Jake is going blind with an unbridled, insatiable want, and he wants-no-needs her, now.
"Baby," he grunts as her hips roll into his own. "You gotta stop that or I'm gonna take you right here in this goddamn parkin' lot."
She pulls back from his gaze, giving him a look as she breathes heavily, her lips plump from his fervor.
"When have we ever been above fucking in your back seat?"
Jake shakes his head and slams open the back door of his truck, wasting zero time tossing her lightly against the leather seats. Once, not so long ago, she would've given him shit for his ridiculous truck, but in this moment, with nothing but pure lust in her eyes, she was thankful for his spacious back seats and tinted windows. He slams the door behind him, and effectively clicks the lock attached to his keys before tossing them into the passenger side seat, his hands now free to grasp the supple flesh of her bottom. His lips return to the open plain of her neck, and she sighs, knowing he was headed towards the sweet spot in the junction of her neck and jaw. He finds it within seconds, and she chokes on a gasp. Her hands find purchase in his blonde locks, a lot less soft from the gel, but still comfortable. Jake groans against her collarbone from the sensation alone, his hips subconsciously thrusting to meet against her own. His lips travel down to the exposed top of her chest before he pulls back, tossing his uniform top and undershirt, dog tags dangling down to brush against her skin. He looks down at her with his hands grasping her hips.
"You sure about this?"
She nods, she'd never been more sure.
"I need your words, baby."
God, this man was going to kill her.
"Yeah, I'm sure, Jake."
In one swift move, he's yanking down the skirt on her hips, her undergarments with it. His knee separates her legs, leaving her completely exposed to his eyes alone. He shakes his head and tuts, smiling the infamous Hangman grin.
"As beautiful as the day I lost 'er."
He darts back down between her legs before beginning to ravish her completely. The next long stretch of time is spent with both of them completely lost in one another. The sound of skin meeting skin fills the air, mingling with cries of pleasure, mangled gasps, and the whispers of each other's names. By the time they both fall against one another after their heights, they're panting and sweating, completely sated and exhausted. The air is quiet, only their heavy breaths between them. Jake is the first to speak after a bout of nothingness.
"Who were you here to meet with anyhow? Hard Deck doesn't seem like somewhere you'd come for shits and giggles."
She takes a breath, rolling over to lie on his chest, tucking her head under his chin as his large hand grips her hip, pulling her closer.
"Met some guy on Tinder. Brayden? Bryson? I don't remember, just saw a really nice Bronco in his pictures. Seemed cute enough for a casual Friday night."
Jake's eyes widen, he moves his head to his hand, propping himself up to look down at her.
"Bradley, maybe?"
She shrugs.
"Yeah, maybe, why?"
"He got a mustache, lots of funky patterned shirts?"
She furrows her brow, wondering how he knew.
"Yeah, why?"
Jake groans as he lays back down, running a hand over his face. She giggles, leaning up to prop her head on his chest.
"What?"
Jake grins.
"I can't believe I was about to lose you to Bradshaw of all people."
She listens to him chuckle, but she doesn't return the action. She shakes her head, pushing blonde hair out of his face.
"You won't lose me, not again."
-
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cool-island-songs · 2 days
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Analysis of ALNST Character Relationship Metrics
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My art book won't be here for a minute, but I ran some screenshots I saw on twt through an image translator and have a lot of thoughts:
TILL: Despite claiming to hate everyone in the world, Till ranks Ivan at 70% intimacy even as he identifies perturbing behaviors of Ivan's going back years and refers to him as "a bother". He also ranks Sua at 10% in spite of having little to say about her and finding it uncomfortable to be around her.
Though he postures at being misanthropic and has all the manners you'd expect of a boy who was half off at the human child pound, he's actually quite gentle and sensitive. This is reflected in one of the graduation messages he's left by a classmate as well:
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The person he feels closest to is an unattainable crush, and someone who doesn't feel that close with him in return, likely because he's too shy to really approach her or carry on a conversation.
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MIZI: That's Mizi, of course, who's rather childlike and naive initially. She likes everyone, but since Till chokes when he tries to speak to her and often keeps his distance, she wonders if he's avoiding her because he dislikes her.
Mizi gravitates towards people who she sees as "perfect", which is how she describes Ivan and Sua in her graduation message to Ivan:
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She doesn't see the darker side of Ivan's personality (which has been described on several occasions, even by himself, as "twisted") because he's attractive, successful, and helpful to her.
Though she likes everyone, Sua is her "God", and the only thing that can keep them apart is the tragedy of their situation, which forces Mizi to grow up in a brutally painful way.
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SUA: Sua is far less idealistic and naive than Mizi, and has clearly thought about sacrificing herself to save Mizi, since Ivan picks on her for thinking of doing so in an official comic. Accordingly, her feelings about Mizi are far more tinged by the knowledge that they will one day be torn apart by external circumstances. She laments that reciprocating her feelings will one day cause Mizi great pain.
She's always been more somber, and despite her surface similarities to Ivan (which he notes in a follow-up comic wherein he realizes he was wrong about Sua's feelings for Mizi being unrequited), she's quite different on the inside. Sua's more sensitive and thus her colder exterior serves to protect her, whereas Ivan's outward persona creates an illusion of normalcy that doesn't reflect his reality.
Sua views Ivan and Till as a threat and a nuisance, respectively. Like Till, she senses something strange about Ivan, and when it comes to Till, it's just one person too many around for her. This is fascinating to me, because I thought she might pity Till! Her feelings about Ivan were already pretty clear from this panel of the 'piggyback' comic, and she seems deeply hurt in the first comic linked by his prodding.
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IVAN: For his part, Ivan is fascinated by Till even though he's content to sit back and observe, pestering him to get a reaction or his attention for a brief time. He doesn't expect anything in return but wants more than anything to be on Till's mind (hence behaviors like stealing Till's belongings and returning them to him, pretending he had found them).
He prefers Sua to Mizi despite his awareness that Sua doesn't particularly like him, seeing her as a sister and even telling her she's "twisted" like he is. He likes Mizi well enough, especially her sincerity, but seems to find her optimism a bit much at times.
The fact that Mizi and the others would likely consider Ivan and Mizi quite close while Ivan does not reflects how much he postures even in his closest relationships. He struggles to connect with those he's most compelled by and it's not clear if he really wants to.
Some Ivantill thoughts before I go:
There seems to be a common sentiment that it's tragic Till was unable to see how much Ivan loved him, and I think we'll likely get more of Till's perspective on Ivan and their relationship in round 7. But it may not be the case that Ivan even wanted his true feelings to be seen, or would have known what to do if Till had reciprocated them.
There's something almost voyeuristic and self-negating in his feelings for Till (see: "I can’t reach you, so I imagine alone/You who shines, I stand next to you" from 'Black Sorrow'). He has far more self-awareness and willingness to accept things as they are than Till, who doesn't see that Mizi only has eyes for Sua and who would likely struggle to accept that reality.
Ivan, on the other hand, is well aware that his feelings for Till are "shallow", a bright fantasy to get him through his dark reality, and he seems to sincerely believe that his death won't scar Till because he's never really broken through to him. He's a schemer, and comments he makes in his graduation message to Till and the interview he gives in advance of round 6 suggest that he may have been planning to sacrifice himself for some time.
Part of me wonders if he hoped it would leave a mark on Till. Choking, kissing, and violently sacrificing oneself are all aggressive, forward acts, especially from someone who used to toy with people to get his kicks but was otherwise quite passive and unfeeling.
There are a lot of parallels in the one-sided loves, like Till acting out of his usual character for Mizi, and Ivan doing the same because of Till, putting all hopes of being saved in something just out of reach, staying in chains for that one special person. But Ivan's psychology is quite different from Till's, and in fact closest to Luka's re: low or no empathy. Both Ivan and Till are significantly traumatized by their upbringings but Ivan's difficult early life in the slums and his experience being dangled off that rooftop seem to have damaged his ability to connect to others or feel much of anything.
Till is the first person for whom he feels anything while for Till, Mizi is an early crush he puts on a pedestal in a much more commonplace way. I think the shared trauma of competing on that stage makes it much more difficult for either of them to imagine moving on, but Ivan is not wrong in identifying that he won't find that feeling again.
The thing that intrigues me most about this series is the way the contestants' differences play out, particularly with regard to how they view love and how they respond to their individual and shared challenges. I'd love to get into it further another time but this is quite long already so thanks for sticking with it if any have (haha)
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lady-phasma · 2 days
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I felt compelled to cite my sources for Armand and Lestat being an item off and on over the years. I’ve been in this fandom too long to get involved in ship wars or to really have an OTP for these crazy-ass vampires. I happen to love Armand and Lestat from the books and think that Assad and Sam make it work so well on screen. I hope we get loads more of them for season 3.
Anne wrote all of her characters as deeply flawed, we can all agree on that, but the nearly fanfiction level of “let’s see what happens when two of my most flawed characters get together” writing she did in TVA is brilliant. Book spoilers below.
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Here's a link to a post I made about Lestat's perspective of Armand from TVL. (I have included one quote from TVL below because it's too precious to exclude.)
Lestat spends almost a full page describing how he sees Armand at a ball at the Palais Royal:
Yet never had Nicolas, mortal or immortal, been so alluring. Never had Gabrielle held me so in thrall. Dear God, this is love. This is desire. And all my past amours have been but the shadow of this. - The Vampire Lestat, p. 275
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They literally feel the same about each other: instant attraction, love, desire, and so on. And it is powerful.
So powerful that hundreds of years later (in one of my favorite passages from any of her books) Armand is the only person allowed to approach an unconscious Lestat. Not only approach him, but allowed to lay down next to him and cuddle, caress, and console Lestat, to cry onto him.
I looked down on Lestat, who was unchanged, his hair fallen as before, a little over his left eye. His right arm was out, and his fingers curling upwards, and there came from him not the slightest movement, not even a breath from his lungs or a sigh from his pores. I knelt down beside him again. I reached out, and without flinching or hesitating, I brushed his hair back from his face. I could feel the shock in the room. I heard the sighs, the gasps from the others. But Lestat himself didn't stir. Slowly, I brushed his hair more tenderly, and I saw to my own mute shock one of my tears fall right onto his face. It was red yet watery and transparent and it appeared to vanish as it moved down the curve of his cheekbone and into the natural hollow below. I slipped down closer, turning on my side, facing him, my hand still on his hair. I stretched my legs out behind me, and alongside of him, and I lay there, letting my face rest right on his outstretched arm. Again there came the shocked gasps and sighs, and I tried to keep my heart absolutely pure of pride and pure of anything but love. It was not differentiated or defined, this love, but only love, the love I could feel perhaps for one I killed or one I succored, or one whom I passed in the street, or for one whom I knew and valued as much as him. - The Vampire Armand, pp. 368-369 (emphasis is mine)
But the contrasting absolute annoyance Armand has for Lestat is hilarious! He loves him but can barely stand him sometimes (that isn't unusual for Lestat's admirers).
Lestat, not a bad friend to have, and one for whom I would lay down my immortal life, one for whose love and companionship I have ofttimes begged, one whom I find maddening and fascinating and intolerably annoying, one without whom I cannot exist. The Vampire Armand, p. 276
But it's the way he describes things that happen to him that maddens me, the way that he connects one incident to another as though all these random and grisly occurrences were in fact links in some significant chain. They are not. They are capers. And he knows it. But he must make a gutter theatrical out of stubbing his toe. The James Bond of the Vampires, the Sam Spade of his own pages. - The Vampire Armand, p. 288 (emphasis mine)
Though Armand's head on Lestat's arm might be the most beautiful image of the two of them from any of the books, this line gives me chills every time:
"Lestat, my Lestat - for he was never theirs, was he? - my Lestat was crazed and railing as the result of his awful saga […]" - The Vampire Armand, p. 320 (emphasis mine)
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Yes, your Lestat.
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yuri-is-online · 2 days
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Bro floyd is so handsome-
And he's weirdly the only twst character that I can describe as handsome??? Like every other character I like is either cute or pretty. Trey and leona might have been handsome to me at one point but I'm just. Not attracted to them yk? Even Jade! Jade is very pretty! He's my evil little wife! But floyd is like. The only one that's actually handsome, like in the traditional sense. At least to me he is. Just like. His mannerisms I guess... idk man he's cool as hell and weirdly reminiscent of dark vintage americana. Weirdest fucking aesthetic I can connect him to but fuck you I'm connecting them (national anthem demo 1 by lana. I was reading the lyrics and also the overall vibe of that specific version of the song just kind of cemented for me)
Idk dude sometime I just go into you inbox and dump out my twst thoughts with no real purpose or structure and this is one of those times 🦵...also it's 2 am so that probably has something to do with it. Good night Yuri!
The prequel to this ask and also still goodnight because it is rather late here rn
Floyd is very much a mob boss, old Americana, guy you obviously should not be attracted to but still everyone kind of understands why type of guy. He's handsome in italics, in a way that you giggle about and exaggeratedly wag your eyes because hey you could be joking.
He's that sort of handsome where most interested parties would ditch him after a weekend. Handsome in a way that sparks but doesn't start a fire, like one of his bad moods that's strong, horrible, and will do so much damage but is gone as soon as it's come on. Like a man desperate for a real connection and can't quite get it, who is looking into your eyes while it rains outside not saying anything but really wanting you to know it's real. Handsome like the guy who doesn't get the girl but everyone knows if the writer was paying attention to their own characters would have been the better choice.
Handsome in a way that's stammered out without a technicality offered by someone small, vulnerable, and foreign to everything he knows in more ways than just the one obvious fact who ignores all of that stuff. Handsome enough for the spark to catch and the connection to wrap itself around your waist and drag you into the ocean without a single scream because the part those stories often ignore is that there are people who would look at an eel three times there size and still "would."
He laughs, dizzyingly loud and all the things he is at once because what he thinks of you is much simpler than all of that. He thinks you're cute~ so cute he could just eat you up.
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f14fun · 1 day
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lay all your love on me - op81 (C2)
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synopsis: in which oscar piastri and a university student begging for her euro summer vacation collide in a steamy, abba-inspired romance
prose (6.1K words) ✮ ⋆ ˚。𖦹 ⋆。°✩ profile | masterlist | series index ⋆.˚✮🎧✮˚.⋆
─────────────────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───────────────────
02: Love, Sweat, and Secondhand Embarrassment
"Clemmy I swear I wanted to die that entire time. Whoever I offended in an alternate universe I am so so sorry, I truly believe karma is real now," I lamented, voice weak.
Burying my head in my pillow, I could finally appreciate the cool blast of AC (well, it was a little bit of air conditioning but a little is better than nothing) I scratched my right leg that was hoisted up onto the blue duvet cover. If not for the horrible comedic timing of everything, in that moment, I might have said that I was enjoying myself.
On the other line of the phone, thousands of miles away, it was a completely different story.
"What the fuck," Clementine could barely muster out because she was laughing so hard.
"I still don't think any part of this story is funny, Clem," I roll my eyes and trail off.
"But it is! You genuinely should consider a career in stand-up comedy. If you recounted all of this in front of a paying live audience, I'm just saying it could make you a millionaire overnight," Clementine wheezed.
"Oh, shut up, bitch," I retorted, trying to suppress a smile despite my mortification.
"You know it's true though!" Her girlish giggles rang through my room. I could see her face through the screen and it looked like visible tears were streaming down her face from how funny she found this to be.
"I am completely and utterly humiliated. There is no way I can go downstairs and face everyone right now," I whined. It was true, as twenty minutes ago, mid-Facetime with Clementine, I heard the door to the foyer open and heard a lot of new noises.
New people. The neighbors. The rest of the Australians.
Crikey, mate.
There was no way I could face them. And since Oscar was probably their son (he looked way too young to be a father) he had probably already told them about the wretched and humiliating mishap.
"Seriously, Clemmy, you don’t get it," I said, trying to keep the frustration out of my voice but failing miserably. "This is not just some embarrassing story. This is my life, and I have to face these people now."
Clementine’s laughter finally started to subside, and she took a deep breath. "Okay, okay, I get it. But you have to admit, this is a once-in-a-lifetime kind of disaster. You can’t just ignore it. It’s like the universe is telling you to embrace the chaos."
I sighed, feeling a bit more grounded with her calming tone. "Yeah, well, I’m not exactly feeling the universe’s love right now. I feel like I’ve been dropped into some kind of sitcom. And what if they think I’m a total klutz? I can’t even begin to imagine how Oscar must’ve described me."
"It'll be fine. You are a pro at handling horrible situations. I mean, I can really only think that you have had more bad experiences with guys than good ones!" Clem tried to reassure me.
"Wow, thanks," I deadpanned. "Way to make a girl feel special."
Clementine's voice was full of playful sympathy. "Hey, I’m just saying, you’ve survived everything life’s thrown at you so far. Besides, look at it this way: if they’re judging you based on this one incident, they’re missing out on getting to know the amazing person you are."
"Yeah, because nothing says 'amazing' like face-planting into a pile of shampoo and knocking over a bunch of cleaning supplies," I said, sarcasm dripping from my tone.
Clementine laughed. "Exactly! And let’s be honest, if they do judge you for this, they’re definitely not worth your time. Besides, Oscar might even think you’re charming in a clumsy, endearing kind of way. You never know."
"You should really consider a career in therapy. If I lay here and close my eyes for a bit and sleep for three hours surely your advice will work," I retorted.
"Oh be so serious with me now,"
"I am! Now I can add a new skill to my LinkedIn profile," I said, trying to stifle a giggle. "How about 'Expert in Catastrophic Bathroom Mishaps: Master of Turning Shower Encounters into Slapstick Comedy'?"
Clementine burst into laughter. “That’s quite a title! It’s like you’ve got a whole new niche market for yourself.”
“Right? I’m just waiting for the endorsement from ‘The Association of Embarrassing Bathroom Incidents,’” I said, imagining a badge with that exact title. What a big, fat, fucking joke.
“Or maybe you'll become the keynote speaker for the 'International Conference on Unexpected Water-Based Accidents,’” Clementine added, her voice full of amusement.
“I’ll make sure to include a workshop on ‘How to Survive a Bathroom Collision with Dignity and Humor,’” I said with a chuckle. “And don’t forget the seminar on ‘Turning Slip-and-Fall Disasters into Networking Opportunities.’”
“A career to consider!” Clementine laughed. “And you know what? I’ll be your first fan. Just remember to keep me updated on how your new ‘disastrous bathroom mishap’ career is going.”
“I’ll make sure to do that,” I promised with a smile. “Thanks for the laugh. It’s nice to know that even in the middle of a fiasco, I can count on you to turn it into a comedy show.”
"What can I say, I will never turn down listening to a free shit show," Clementine winked at me through the camera.
"Clem! What the hell!" I waved my manicured pointed nail at her.
"Bye! Don't die from embarrassment before you come back!" She quipped, then promptly hung up.
I lay sprawled on my bed, dreading the thought of going downstairs and facing the group of new neighbors. The whole idea made me cringe. I was just about to mentally prepare myself for the awkward introductions when a sudden knock on my door jolted me upright. My heart raced as I called out lazily, “Come in.”
The door creaked open, and I nearly jumped out of my skin when I saw Oscar standing there. His eyebrow was raised, and he wore a cheeky grin that did nothing to ease my nerves.
"Well, well, well," he said with an amused smirk. "Looks like you’ve been having quite the chat with 'dearest Clemmy,' haven’t you?"
My face flushed beet red, and I stuttered, struggling to find my words. “W-What are you doing here?”
Oscar leaned casually against the doorframe, clearly enjoying my discomfort. “Oh, you know, just overheard you and Clemmy talking about our little mishap. I believe you mentioned something about me being ‘a charming yet infuriating Aussie who managed to turn your bathroom break into a comedy skit.’”
I blinked, stunned into silence. My mouth opened and closed, but no coherent words came out. The sheer embarrassment was overwhelming. Oscar’s casual demeanor and his cheeky grin only made things worse.
“What can I say, my name was called,” Oscar continued with a mischievous glint in his eye. “If someone keeps calling you hot, I mean, wouldn’t you be too curious to listen?”
His smirk only made my breath hitch and my fingers tremble a little more. I could feel my cheeks burning, and I struggled to come up with a response. The playful glint in his eye and his casual attitude did nothing to alleviate my embarrassment. Instead, they only made me feel more flustered.
I took a deep breath, trying to regain some semblance of composure. “W-Well, I guess I didn’t think anyone would be actually listening.”
Oscar raised an eyebrow playfully, his smirk widening. “Oh, I’m sure you didn’t. But it was too good to pass up. Especially the part where you called me a ‘human wrecking ball.’”
My face flushed a deeper shade of crimson. “Great. Just great,” I muttered, shifting uncomfortably. “I’m sure I’ve made a fantastic first impression.”
Oscar chuckled, leaning casually against the doorframe. “Look, it’s all good. I’ve seen worse first impressions. Trust me. At least you didn’t accidentally set off the fire alarm or flood the place.”
I managed a weak smile, still feeling the sting of embarrassment. “Yeah, well, I’ll try to keep any future disasters to a minimum.”
Look at me, constantly embarrassing myself in front of hot guys. This was the exact reason why I was still bitchless and socially awkward at the ripe age of twenty-one. I could navigate a spreadsheet like a pro, ace exams, and even master the perfect contour, but put me in a room with a cute guy, and I turned into a walking calamity.
I sighed internally, already dreading the inevitable teasing I’d get from Clemmy once she found out I had, yet again, failed to keep my cool around a guy. Maybe I should’ve just stayed in the bathroom and let the ground swallow me whole.
Oscar raised an eyebrow, studying me with a curious look. “You know, you seem like a completely different person right now. Way quieter, more shy… less daring.”
My face flushed with a mix of irritation and embarrassment. “That’s not true,” I snapped, crossing my arms defensively. “I’m exactly the same as I was before.”
Oscar’s grin widened, clearly enjoying the effect his words had on me. “Sure, if you say so. But the girl who almost took me down like a rugby player in the bathroom seemed a lot more fearless.”
My nose flared as I shot him a glare, feeling the fire of indignation rise within me. Who did he think he was, making assumptions about me? I’ll show him just how brave I can be, I thought, my fists clenching. If he wanted to see daring, then I’d make sure he regretted ever doubting me. The nerve of this guy! He might have been hot, but that didn’t give him the right to push my buttons like this.
Oscar gave me a lopsided grin, clearly pleased with himself. "Anyway, everyone’s heading downstairs to meet each other. Figured I’d let you know, since, you know, it’s probably not the best idea to hide out up here forever."
My stomach twisted with nerves at the thought of facing everyone after that humiliating encounter. The idea of meeting new people while still reeling from my disastrous introduction to Oscar was daunting. But there was no way I was going to let him see how nervous I actually was. I took a deep breath, nodding stiffly. "Fine, let’s get this over with."
As we walked out of the room and toward the stairs, I could feel Oscar’s presence behind me—large, imposing, and annoyingly close. My face heated up, and I silently cursed myself for blushing yet again. Why did this guy have to make everything so difficult?
It was like shooting a sitting duck. A little small talk, a smile, and baby, I was stuck. I was a grown woman, for god’s sake, not some teenager swooning over a crush. But there I was, getting flustered over a guy I barely knew. Get a grip, I told myself, trying to shake off the absurdity of the situation. This wasn’t supposed to happen—I wasn’t supposed to be this easily charmed.
When we reached the bottom of the stairs, I hesitated, gripping the railing a little longer than usual. I could feel Oscar’s gaze on me, and it only made my nerves worse. Just as I was about to take the first step down, his hand brushed against mine. The contact was brief but enough to send a jolt of awareness through me. His hand was rough with calluses, moderately enveloping mine in a way that felt both comforting and disarming.
What was it about this guy that made me feel so uncharacteristically off-balance? As I tried to steady my racing thoughts, I reminded myself that I had to keep it together. After all, I wasn’t about to let some smooth-talking Aussie turn me into a lovesick fool—no matter how much my traitorous heart seemed to enjoy the challenge.
As I reached the bottom of the stairs, my eyes were drawn to two adults who were deep in conversation with my mom. Their warm, friendly demeanor and unmistakable Australian accents told me they were Oscar’s parents. They seemed just as lively and outgoing as he was, which only added to the strangeness of this entire situation.
Then, I spotted Oscar’s siblings—a trio of sisters who looked like carbon copies of him, yet each had her own distinct vibe, like different fonts of the same typeface. They were laughing and joking with each other, their bond evident in the way they effortlessly engaged in light-hearted banter. I felt a pang of envy, wishing I had siblings to share that kind of closeness with.
My daydream was abruptly shattered when Oscar’s large, warm hand clasped onto my shoulder, his fingers pressing gently but firmly against my skin. The unexpected touch sent a jolt through me, making me jump slightly as a flush of heat rushed to my cheeks. His chuckle, deep and amused, rumbled behind me, the sound wrapping around me like a teasing caress. He was standing on the step just above me, close enough that I could feel his breath on the back of my neck. His presence was unmistakably felt—broad, solid, and way too close for comfort, yet somehow not close enough.
His fingers lingered on my shoulder, almost as if he was testing my reaction, and I could feel the warmth radiating from his touch, seeping into my skin. The space between us seemed to shrink with every passing second, and I could barely concentrate on anything but the weight of his hand and the steady beat of my heart hammering in my chest.
Oscar leaned in slightly, his voice low and smooth as honey. “Jumpier than I thought,” he drawled, his tone dripping with playful mischief. “Didn’t take you for the shy type. Especially not after our little bathroom tango.” His grin widened, the corner of his mouth quirking up in a way that was both infuriating and ridiculously charming.
My pulse quickened at the way he was looking at me—those eyes sparkling with amusement, as if he knew exactly what he was doing. I swallowed hard, my mind racing to come up with a retort, but all I could focus on was how his hand, still resting on my shoulder, felt both protective and possessive. The air between us crackled with a tension that was impossible to ignore, and I had to remind myself to breathe.
I could quite literally cut the sexual tension with the dullest fucking butterknife in the world.
I tried to muster a sharp retort, something that would wipe that smug grin off his face, but my brain was too busy short-circuiting to cooperate. All I could manage was a stuttered, “I-I’m not shy! You just—caught me off guard, that’s all.” The words tumbled out, weak and unconvincing, and I mentally cringed at how feeble they sounded.
Oscar’s grin only grew, clearly enjoying my flustered state. He leaned in a little closer, his gaze locked on mine with a playful intensity that made my heart skip a beat. “Off guard, huh?” he murmured, his voice dipping lower. “So, you’re saying if I hadn’t surprised you, you’d be able to keep up?”
I opened my mouth to respond, determined to regain some semblance of dignity, but nothing clever came out. Instead, I just stood there, caught between wanting to pull away from his teasing and feeling inexplicably drawn to his warmth. His hand slid from my shoulder, and the absence of his touch left a surprising chill in its wake.
Realizing that my window for a comeback was closing, I finally managed to sputter, “Y-Yeah, exactly.” I immediately cursed myself for sounding so pathetic. Not exactly the sharp comeback I was hoping for. His smirk deepened, and I could tell he wasn’t buying it for a second.
“Sure, whatever you say,” Oscar replied, his tone still dripping with amusement. He straightened up, giving me a quick wink before stepping down to the next stair. The playful glint in his eyes told me he knew exactly how much he was getting under my skin, and he was loving every second of it.
As he moved past me, I finally found my voice—too little, too late—and muttered under my breath, “Cocky bastard.” But it was quiet enough that I hoped he didn’t hear it. To my dismay, Oscar paused, turning back with a raised eyebrow and an even wider grin.
“Sorry, didn’t catch that,” he said, his eyes twinkling with mischief. “Care to repeat it?”
My cheeks flamed as I quickly shook my head. “Nope, nothing. Let’s just… go meet everyone.”
Oscar’s grin didn’t falter as he took a step closer, still looming above me. “You know,” he began, his voice casual but with that familiar teasing edge, “I’ve already met everyone else. Your mom, too. And I’ve gotta say, you two seem like complete opposites.”
I blinked up at him, caught off guard again. “Opposites?”
He nodded, leaning against the wall with that effortless ease he seemed to have perfected. “Yep. Your mom’s all smiles and warm welcomes. You, on the other hand… well, you’ve got this whole ‘ready to throw punches’ vibe going on.”
I narrowed my eyes at him, trying to gauge whether he was being serious or just messing with me again. “I do not have a ‘ready to throw punches’ vibe.”
Oscar’s lips twitched like he was holding back a laugh. “Oh, you totally do. But don’t worry,” he added with a playful smirk, “it’s kind of endearing. Keeps things interesting.”
I huffed, crossing my arms over my chest. “Glad to know I’m so entertaining for you.”
He shrugged, unfazed. “Hey, I’m just saying, opposites attract, right? Besides, your mom already likes me. You could take a few notes.”
His comment sent a fresh wave of warmth to my cheeks, both from irritation and something I couldn’t quite place. “I don’t need notes from you,” I shot back, though my voice lacked its usual bite.
Oscar just chuckled, giving me one last teasing wink before turning to head down the stairs. “Whatever you say, mate. Just try not to tackle anyone else while you’re at it.”
"Well well well, what do we have here?" A girl with short hair and a devious grin matching Oscar's grinned at me as well entered the kitchen. Shimmering her hands like "jazz hands", she rolled her eyes and rested her chin in the palm of her hand.
I turned to face the new arrival, immediately recognizing her as one of Oscar’s sisters—one of the three siblings who seemed to share his penchant for mischief. Her cropped hair and sharp, playful eyes made her look like she’d just stepped out of a rom-com where she was the resident troublemaker, always stirring the pot and having a laugh at everyone else’s expense.
“Hey, party people,” she said, her voice dripping with a teasing lilt. She shot me a grin that was almost a mirror image of Oscar’s, mischievous and knowing, like she was in on some inside joke I hadn’t been let in on yet. I could feel the same heat from before creeping up my neck. Why did it feel like these siblings were reading me like an open book?
“Looks like someone’s already made a grand entrance,” she continued, flicking her eyes between me and Oscar with an amused smirk. “Oscar’s been talking about you nonstop since we got here. Said something about a ‘bathroom fiasco’ that deserves an award?”
I shot a glare at Oscar, who was leaning casually against the counter, looking far too pleased with himself. “Did he now?” I said, trying to keep my voice steady despite the mortification clawing at me.
The girl laughed, light and musical, but with an edge that told me she was fully enjoying every bit of this. “Oh yeah, he’s been filling us in. But don’t worry, we’re used to his tall tales. I’m Hattie, by the way,” she added, extending a hand with exaggerated enthusiasm as if we were meeting on the set of a game show rather than in my kitchen.
I hesitated for a beat before shaking her hand, trying to muster a smile that didn’t look too forced. “Nice to meet you, Hattie. I’m—”
“Oh, I know who you are,” she interrupted, her grin widening. “You’re the girl who almost took out my brother. Honestly, I’m impressed. No one’s ever managed to knock him off his game quite like that.”
I glanced at Oscar, who was watching the exchange with an infuriatingly smug look on his face. Maisie’s comment hung in the air, both a compliment and a lighthearted jab. I couldn’t help but feel like I was once again the butt of some inside joke between the siblings.
“Yeah, well, it’s a special talent of mine,” I said, trying to sound casual but feeling like every word was being scrutinized. “Guess I just have that effect.”
Hattie laughed, the sound bright and unapologetically amused. “Oh, I like you already. But hey, if you’re gonna hang out with us, you better be ready for a little friendly chaos. And maybe a few more unexpected collisions.”
Oscar gave a soft snort of laughter, and I could feel his eyes still on me, assessing, teasing, and—annoyingly—almost impressed. I tried to ignore the butterflies that seemed to be staging a full-on rebellion in my stomach. Clearly, this family thrived on playful torment, and I had somehow found myself right in the middle of it.
“Don’t worry,” I said, straightening up and forcing a confident smile. “I think I can handle whatever you guys throw at me.”
Hattie's eyes sparkled with mischief, and she gave me a mock salute. “That’s the spirit. Welcome to the chaos, mate.”
Oscar chuckled again, giving me that damn wink before pushing off from the counter. “Oh, she’s ready for it. Trust me, she’s already made quite the impression.”
The other two girls strolled in, each with their own distinct energy that filled the room. One had a fierce, confident look, dark hair tied up in a messy bun, and a leather jacket that screamed ‘cooler-than-you’ vibes. The youngest, a curly-haired, bright-eyed whirlwind, practically bounced into the kitchen, her infectious smile lighting up the space.
“So,” I said, feeling slightly overwhelmed by the sudden influx of new faces. “I’ve met Oscar, obviously, and… Hattie, right?” I glanced at the girl who had first greeted me, who nodded with a playful smile. “But I’m afraid I haven’t gotten your names yet,” I continued, pointing between the other two sisters.
The girl with the leather jacket gave me a wry grin, leaning casually against the counter. “I’m Edie,” she said, her voice dripping with casual confidence. “The cooler, smarter middle child.”
Mae, the youngest, immediately chimed in, rolling her eyes at her sister. “And I’m Mae, the fun one,” she said with a giggle, her curls bouncing as she hopped up onto a stool. “Edie’s just mad she wasn’t born with my charm.”
Edie snorted, pretending to be offended. “Please, you’re like a tiny tornado of chaos. But yeah, I guess she’s not wrong,” she added, shooting me a smirk. “Mae’s got a way of making everything a little… livelier.”
I couldn’t help but smile at their playful back-and-forth. “Nice to officially meet you all. And thanks for the heads-up on your brother’s antics,” I said, glancing at Oscar, who was watching the exchange with an amused glint in his eye.
“Oh, trust me,” Hattie added, her grin widening as she nudged Oscar with her elbow. “We’ve got years of experience keeping this one in line. You’re welcome to join the effort.”
Oscar threw his hands up in mock surrender. “Wow, ganging up on me already? This is why I never bring girls home,” he joked, though there was a hint of genuine warmth in his voice, like he was more than used to—and secretly enjoyed—their teasing.
Mae leaned forward, her eyes sparkling with mischief. “Just wait till we start telling you all the embarrassing stories. Oscar’s got quite a few, and we’ve got no problem spilling the tea.”
Oscar smirked, shifting his weight just enough to close the distance between us, his presence suddenly feeling a lot closer, a lot warmer. He leaned in with a casual ease, his movements smooth and unhurried, as if he had all the time in the world to make me squirm. His voice dropped into a playful, low tone, rich and velvety, each word dripping with deliberate charm. “Oh, don’t worry about them,” he murmured, his gaze locked onto mine with an intensity that made my heart skip a beat. “I’d much rather hear your stories. You’re far more interesting than anything they could say about me.”
The way he looked at me was like I was the only person in the room, his eyes lingering on mine with a bold, flirtatious glint that sent a shiver down my spine. His grin was maddeningly confident, a little crooked, and devastatingly irresistible—the kind of smile that made it clear he knew exactly what he was doing. It was teasing, suggestive, and far too charming for its own good, like he was daring me to blush, daring me to react.
I felt the heat creeping up my neck, a slow burn that spread across my cheeks, making my skin prickle with the sudden awareness of how close he was. My mind scrambled for something clever to say, but his flirtatious tone, the way his eyes roved over my face as if he was reading every reaction, left me tongue-tied. It was like he was peeling back layers with just a look, searching for the part of me that he could fluster with a few well-placed words and that infuriating smile.
I tried to steady my breath, but his proximity was overwhelming. I could catch the faint scent of his cologne—fresh, with a hint of something spicy—and the subtle shift of his body as he leaned closer sent my senses into overdrive. Every nerve seemed to hum in response to his nearness, and I could feel my face burning hotter, betraying me with every second that I failed to look away.
Edie made a gagging noise, rolling her eyes dramatically. “Ew, Oscar, seriously? Can you not flirt for like five seconds? It’s embarrassing.”
Mae giggled, giving Oscar a playful shove. “Yeah, gross. No one wants to see that. Save it for when we’re not around, Romeo.”
Hattie snorted, shaking her head as she watched Oscar with a mix of amusement and exasperation. “He’s always like this. Thinks he’s Mr. Smooth. Don’t let him get to you.”
But Oscar only chuckled, clearly unfazed by his sisters’ teasing. He turned back to me, his grin widening as he caught sight of my flushed cheeks. “Aww, look at that,” he said, his voice soft and teasing. “Did I make you blush? How cute.”
I quickly tried to hide my face, mortification bubbling up as I realized there was no escaping the heat radiating from my cheeks. “N-No, you didn’t,” I stammered, though the pink tint on my face said otherwise.
Oscar’s smirk deepened, and he leaned in just a little closer, his voice barely above a whisper. “You’re not very good at hiding it, you know. It’s kind of endearing.”
I could practically feel my cheeks getting even more red, if that was even possible. His sisters snickered behind us, enjoying the show as much as they enjoyed tormenting him.
Mae nudged Hattie, whispering loud enough for everyone to hear, “He’s really laying it on thick, huh? Someone needs to put a leash on this one.”
Hattie snickered and turned to me, giving me an exaggeratedly sympathetic look. “Don’t worry, he does this to everyone. It’s part of his ‘charm offensive.’ Just don’t let him get away with it too easily.”
“Yeah, make him work for it,” Edie added with a laugh. “And don’t let that blush fool you. He’s got enough of an ego without you feeding it.”
Oscar just shrugged, clearly unbothered by his sisters’ ribbing. He kept his eyes on me, his smile softening just slightly. “They’re just jealous because they know I’m right. You really are something else.”
I rolled my eyes, trying to fight the smile that was creeping onto my face despite my best efforts. “You’re impossible,” I muttered, crossing my arms in an attempt to compose myself.
Oscar leaned back, finally giving me a bit of space but not without one last wink. “Impossible’s my specialty,” he said, the playful challenge hanging in the air.
Hattie clapped her hands together, breaking the charged silence that had wrapped around us. “Alright, lovebirds, let’s change the scene before this kitchen gets any steamier,” she said with a sly grin, glancing between Oscar and me. “What do you say we all head out to the pool? It’s hot as hell today, and I could use a swim.”
Mae’s eyes lit up at the suggestion, and she bounced on her toes with excitement. “Yes, please! I’ve been dying to jump in all morning. Come on, it’ll be fun.”
Edie shrugged, pushing off the counter. “Sounds like a plan. Beats sitting around here watching Oscar make a fool of himself,” she said, shooting her brother a pointed look that he brushed off with a careless smirk.
I hesitated, caught off guard by the sudden change in plans. The thought of the pool—cool water, bright sun, and lounging with these new, vibrant personalities—was tempting, but my mind immediately jumped to what that would mean: changing into a bikini, being under the sun's scrutiny, and, worse, the idea of Oscar’s eyes on me again, but this time with even less to hide behind.
“Uh, yeah, sure,” I said, trying to sound casual, though my heart was starting to race for an entirely different reason now. “Just give me a minute to get changed.”
As I slipped back into my room, I rummaged through my suitcase, finding the bright bikini I had packed on a whim but hadn’t quite planned on wearing in front of a whole audience of strangers. It was a pretty number—a little more revealing than I was used to—but suddenly, the idea of wearing it around Oscar felt daunting. My insecurities bubbled up: the nagging thoughts of whether my stomach was flat enough, if my thighs looked alright, or if the faint stretch marks I tried so hard to ignore would be too noticeable under the bright afternoon sun.
I took a deep breath, staring at my reflection in the mirror. I tugged at the fabric, trying to adjust it in a way that made me feel more comfortable, but the nerves wouldn’t settle. I could already imagine Oscar’s eyes lingering on me, his playful smirk turning into something more appraising, and the thought sent a rush of heat to my cheeks. God, why was I letting this get to me? It was just a pool. Just a bikini. Just Oscar. But the more I tried to rationalize, the more those little fears crept in, whispering doubts that made my stomach churn.
I was so lost in my own thoughts, adjusting and readjusting the strings and trying to silence the negative self-talk, that I nearly jumped out of my skin when a sudden knock rattled my door. My heart leaped into my throat, and I spun around, my breath catching as I called out, “W-Who is it?”
“It’s me,” came Oscar’s familiar voice, muffled but still clear enough to send a jolt of nerves through me. “Just checking to see if you’re alright in there. You’ve been quiet, and, well, didn’t want you chickening out on us.”
His tone was light, but there was something softer in it, something that caught me off guard. It wasn’t the usual teasing or the cocky one-liners I’d grown accustomed to in the short time I’d known him. This felt… genuine. A flicker of concern threaded through his words, almost like he actually cared if I was okay. My cheeks flushed anew, this time from the unexpected warmth of his attention rather than embarrassment.
I sat on the edge of the bed, my fingers fidgeting with the hem of my cover-up as I tried to piece together my swirling thoughts. Was this the same Oscar who had been smirking at me in the kitchen, flirting shamelessly in front of his sisters? The same Oscar who seemed to relish every moment he made me blush or stumble over my words? It was strange, almost disarming, to hear him like this—concerned, attentive, with none of his usual bravado.
My heart fluttered at the thought. What if there was more to him than just the cheeky guy who lived for teasing? I couldn’t help but feel a small, unexpected tug in my chest, an urge to believe that this side of him was real and not just some act. But then, just as quickly, my rational side kicked in, reminding me that I’d known Oscar for all of three hours, most of which had been spent flustered and caught up in his whirlwind of charm.
Was I reading too much into this? Was I letting my own insecurities and wishful thinking color my perception of him? It was hard not to, especially when he swung so easily between flirty and sincere, keeping me constantly off-balance. I barely knew this guy, yet here I was, letting my mind wander into dangerous territory, imagining depth and sincerity that might not even be there.
I squeezed my eyes shut, trying to steady my thoughts. I didn’t want to jump to conclusions—didn’t want to let a few kind words make me think I’d seen some hidden side of him. But it was hard not to feel flustered when his voice had softened like that, when he’d taken the time to check on me instead of just joking about how long I was taking.
The knock on my door, the concern in his tone—it all felt so different from the playful Oscar who’d swaggered into my life just a few hours ago. Maybe it was nothing, just a moment of decency, a brief glimpse of something real behind the jokes and teasing. Or maybe I was just overthinking, desperate to see something more in him because he’d managed to get under my skin in a way I wasn’t quite prepared for.
I sighed, feeling my cheeks heat up once more as the realization hit me—I was blushing again, and not just from embarrassment this time. There was something about Oscar, something that made me want to believe he was more than the carefree charmer he projected. But whether that was true or just wishful thinking, I couldn’t be sure. Not yet.
“I-I’m fine!” I called back, trying to steady my voice, but it came out shaky, betraying the mix of anxiety and embarrassment that had settled in my chest. “Just… getting ready.”
There was a pause on the other side of the door, long enough that I thought he might have walked away. But then, Oscar’s voice cut through again, softer this time, and with a teasing edge. “You sure? I promise no one’s gonna judge you out there. Least of all me.”
The reassurance felt sincere, but I couldn’t help the way my mind raced with all the what-ifs. What if he did look? What if I didn’t look good enough? What if this stupid bikini made me feel more exposed than I could handle? I glanced at myself one last time in the mirror, trying to summon the confidence that I usually wore so easily, but right now felt like it was hiding somewhere I couldn’t reach.
“Yeah, I’m sure,” I finally managed, forcing a smile I hoped he couldn’t hear through the door. “Just... give me a sec. I’ll be right out.”
“Take your time,” Oscar said, his voice fading as he finally moved away from the door. “But don’t take too long. You don’t wanna miss the fun.”
As his footsteps retreated, I let out a shaky breath, trying to collect myself. I ran a hand through my hair, giving myself one last pep talk before heading out. It was just a pool day, I reminded myself. Just a stupid pool day with some new people and a guy who was way too good at making me blush. And maybe, just maybe, it would be fun—if I could get out of my own head long enough to let it be.
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Text
‘Til Death
Chapter 10: Three Little Words
Chapter 9: The Exes
Chapter 11: Last Chance (WIP)
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It was about noon in Corinth. The sun was shining up in the bright blue sky as the birds sang their beautiful songs. Persephone sat in the field of freshly grown wild flowers of the Corinthian meadows, taking a much needed break as Thallo grazed on a grassy hill nearby.
Persephone had been working very hard recently to make sure she was bringing spring to the lands of Greece on time. Since she had wasted so much time crying and sleeping the day she ran into Minthe and Leuke, she was a bit behind schedule, so instead of moping around and worrying about Hades, she decided to put her time and energy into her work.
True, the goddess was still very heartbroken about her sudden realization that Hades probably didn’t love her, but she wasn’t going to let that stop her from doing her job. She’s certainly had a few crying spells here and there whenever she got to thinking about Hades, but she was a strong goddess. A broken heart wasn’t going to prevent her from bringing another beautiful spring. Thankfully, Hades hasn’t visited her in quite a while, so she’s had some time to think of how she could end things with him, even though she really, really didn’t want to. 
“You have to do this, Persephone. You can’t love a god that doesn’t love you. Just look at what happened with Narcissus and Echo.” she thought to herself as she watched the fluffy white clouds drift by in the sky.
Suddenly, Persephone heard the familiar sound of crackling flames, the smell of sulfur hitting her nose. She immediately sat up with a surprised gasp to see a cloud of smoke and flames appearing not too far away from her. 
“Oh, gods…not him! Not now! I can’t do this! I’m not ready!” she internally panicked as she stood up from the ground and brushed the grass and dirt off of her chiton.
There he was. Hades now stood before her in the flower field with his arms outstretched like he was ready for a hug, “Hey! Babe! It’s been a while! What’s shakin’, huh?” he greeted with a smile.
Persephone forced a smile as she avoided eye contact with him, looking everywhere but his face as she stayed put. She was so anxious, she felt like she could jump right out of her skin.
“Hey.” she replied softly, trying her best to stay calm and casual.
Hades could immediately tell something was off. Her facial expression, her body language, it was very unlike her. Normally, when he came to visit her he was greeted with an adorable smile, a big hug, and a kiss, but now, for some reason, Persephone refused to go near him. The goddess just stood there, practically glued to that spot in the flowery field as she anxiously stroked a lock of her hair.
The god dropped his arms to his side and raised his brow with suspicion, “You okay? You look like someone just pulled an arrow on you. What’s wrong?” he asked as he approached Persephone.
“I’m fine.” she answered quickly as she turned to walk away from him. Hades stopped in his tracks as he watched the goddess walk in the opposite direction.
“Something’s definitely up.” Hades thought as he started walking after her, trying to be mindful not to trample the flowers in the field.
“You’re obviously not fine because you’re walking away from me like I’m tryin‘ to sell ya chariot insurance. Seriously, what’s the deal? What’s goin’ on with you?” he asked.
“Nothing. I’m fine. I’m just…tired. That’s all.” Persephone lied as she made a beeline for the edge of the field where a row of tall shady trees sat. She then stopped at the trees and started sprouting bright green vines with little pink flowers onto the trees, keeping her back turned to him. She hoped that if he saw she was busy working, he would leave her alone.
Hades wasn’t buying it for a second, “You’re a terrible liar, y’know that? C’mon, just tell me what’s going on.” he said, finally catching up with Persephone by the trees. 
Persephone didn’t reply. She just busied herself by adding more little flowers to fill the empty spots of the vines she had made, still keeping her back turned to him. She was blatantly avoiding him at this point, but Hades was determined to get to the bottom of this.
“Hey,” Hades gently took her hand away from the tree so she’d focus on him for a moment. Persephone finally turned to look at him as he cupped her cheek with his other hand, turning her head a bit so they could be completely face to face, “…talk to me, babe. What’s wrong?”
Persephone placed her hand over his hand on her cheek as she gazed into his eyes that were filled with concern. For a split second, Persephone truly believed that he loved and cared for her, but then she was reminded of what Minthe had said to her before.
“Next thing you know, you’re being lured in by that charming smile and those amber eyes of his…you’re a ‘spring fling’ and nothing more.”
“Hades…I…” Persephone’s anxious expression turned to a pained and sorrowful one as she closed her eyes and gently squeezed his hand, slowly taking it away from her face. She so desperately wanted to avoid all of this and just run away and hide, but she couldn’t. She had to end it now or else she never will. She couldn’t let Hades break her heart…even though she felt as if she were already breaking it herself.
Persephone looked up at him with a tearful expression, his large gray-blue hands still gently holding hers, “I don’t…think we should see each other anymore.”
She closed her eyes again, shutting them tighter as tears began to fall down her face. Hades just stood there like a Greek statue, completely stunned and utterly baffled. He wondered if perhaps he had a little chunk of brimstone wedged in his ear and didn’t hear her correctly, “Wh…What?”
“I’m sorry. I just...I can’t…I…I’m so sorry.” Persephone softly wept as she struggled to find the right words to say. This was far too painful for her to bear and she just couldn’t face him any longer. She suddenly slipped her hands out of his as she dashed away from him.
“Persephone! Wait! Hold on! Let’s just talk about this!” Hades called out as he immediately started chasing after her.
Persephone could hear Hades running behind her and stopped for a short moment to use her powers to manifest herself away from him so he wouldn’t follow her.
“Persephone! Don’t —“ Hades reached out to try and grab her arm, but he was too late. Persephone had already disappeared in a swirl of small leaves in pastel pink flower petals, leaving Hades all alone in the middle of the flower field.
~X~X~X~X~
Pain and Panic sat on the floor of Hades’ throne room, a deck of playing cards (or the Ancient Greece equivalent of playing cards) placed between them as they each held a handful of cards. Since Hades was off visiting Persephone for the first time in a while, they figured they could use that spare time to relax and take it easy.
“I wonder how things are going with Hades and Persephone? He hasn’t seen her in like…forever.” Pain pondered as he grabbed a card from the deck.
As if on cue, Hades appeared in the throne room, in a red, fiery blaze. He was practically shaking with fury as he let out an enraged scream, his entire body engulfed in flames.
Pain and Panic jumped with a yelp, tossing their playing cards up in the air as they all became scattered on the floor. The imps cowered together in terror as Panic quickly hid behind Pain, “I don’t think it’s going well.” Panic whispered.
“I DON’T BELIEVE THIS!” Hades bellowed, “I’M GONE FOR A COUPLE OF WEEKS AND SHE BREAKS UP WITH ME!?”
“Wait…Persephone broke up with you?!” Pain asked with surprise, feeling a little more relaxed now that he knew he and Panic weren’t the source of Hades’ wrath (for once).
“But, w-why?! You two were so happy together! What happened?!” Panic questioned as he peeked out from behind his round partner in crime.
“I. DON’T. KNOW!” Hades shouted, the flames on his body flaring out with every word to emphasize his frustration.
The god went over to his throne to sit as his minions slowly and hesitantly approached him. He took a deep breath to calm himself down for a moment so he could think rationally.
“This is…this is insane. I mean, why would she break up with me? I didn’t even do anything! So, I haven’t seen her in a while, so what!? It’s not grounds for a break up! She knows we can’t see each other every day! I just can’t understand why she’d just dump me like that! Outta nowhere! She was just fine last time we met!” Hades ranted as he slumped over on his throne, resting his elbows on his knees, “This just doesn’t make any sense…something happened while I was gone. She must’ve talked to someone. There’s gotta be somebody else involved here.”
“Maybe she told her mom about you. Demeter’s not exactly your biggest fan. I don’t think she’d be too happy if she found out that you and Persephone were together.” Panic suggested.
“No, it wasn’t Demeter. If it was, she would’ve ripped my head off by now….no, somebody must’ve said something to Persephone that was enough to make her leave me…but who in the Underworld would have the nerve to —“ Hades paused for a moment before his expression began to harden.
“Minthe.”
Hades then arose from his throne with a scowl and made his way out of the throne room, “Don’t wait up for me, boys.” he said as he strode past them.
The imps watched him in confusion as he exited the room, “Where ya goin’, boss?” Pain asked curiously.
“I got some business to take care of. Need to pay a little visit to one of my old flames.”
~X~X~X~X~
Persephone ended up manifesting herself in the luscious garden of her temple near Athens. It was filled with gorgeous plants and flowers of all sizes and colors. There was a beautiful little pond covered with lily pads and lotus blossoms that sat in the middle of the garden with an ivory stone bench next to it. The goddess practically threw herself onto the bench as she sobbed into her arms.
“Why does this hurt so bad? Yes, I loved him, but he didn’t love me. It was only a matter of time before he would leave and break my heart. I had to do it. I should be happy he’s gone…and yet I feel so empty.” she wondered as she laid there crying on the bench.
“Persephone!” 
Out of nowhere, a familiar voice called out from across the garden. The spring goddess sat up on the bench and looked around. 
“Mother?”
Demeter finally spotted Persephone on the bench from across the pond and went over to her, “There you are! I’ve been looking all over Greece for you! Where have you —“ she began before noticing her daughter’s red, puffy eyes and tear stained cheeks.
“Persephone, cherry blossom. What’s the matter?” Demeter asked with concern as she sat down next to her daughter.
“It’s a long story….and honestly….I think if I tell you, you’ll hate me.” Persephone admitted as she pitifully sniffled and wiped her tears away from her eyes.
“No, sweet pea, I’d never hate you! You know you can tell me anything. Please, tell me what’s gotten you so upset.” Demeter asked as she manifested a handkerchief to help wipe Persephone’s tears away.
Persephone let out a shaky sigh then looked away from her mother, focusing her attention on a random spot on the ground. She knew she was going to have this conversation with her mother at some point, however, she imagined it would’ve been under better circumstances than this.
Persephone then proceeded to tell her mother about everything she’s been through since they last saw each other, all while keeping her eyes fixed on the ground, not wanting to see her mother’s facial expression as she confessed. She did her best to explain all of her thoughts and feelings she had as she spent time with Hades, wanting her mother to understand why she’s done the things she’s done.
“…so, after the picnic, he suggested we take a walk along the river, so we did…and we just…talked. After a while we got to the river bridge and the sun was setting. We stopped talking for a minute to just take in the pretty view. Then I looked at him while he was watching the water and I started getting that funny feeling I told you about before, like butterflies in my tummy…that’s when it finally hit me. I realized at that moment…I was in love with him. That whole time, all those weird feelings I got when I was around him, when he looked at me, when he complimented me, when he laughed, when he smiled…I…I loved him…..so I kissed him.”
Persephone squeezed her eyes shut as she felt her tears beginning to resurface. Not only was she scared of her mother’s reaction to this news, but it hurt to think back to the moment she fell for him now that they weren’t together anymore.
Demeter was quiet, trying to process all of this new information, but there was no indication that she was mad or upset, “How did Hades react?” she then asked calmly.
Persephone opened her eyes and looked towards her mother. She really expected Demeter to be fussing at her and scolding her for feeling such a way towards Hades. Her mother’s calm tone and demeanor after hearing her confession made Persephone feel a little less anxious about the conversation.
She took another deep breath to settle her nerves before explaining Hades’ reaction to her kiss and everything that transpired after that, from the moment she left the Underworld, to her recent meeting with his exes. Demeter stayed silent as she maintained her cool and calm disposition, listening intently to what her daughter had to say.
“That’s how I ended up here…like this. Hades came by for a visit and I decided to do what was best, so…I broke up with him.” Persephone explained, her voice wobbly as she tried not to cry again. She then looked over at her mother who just looked back at her with sympathy. The spring goddess instantly broke down in tears as she hugged her.
“I’m so sorry, mother! You were right! I should’ve listened to you! I’m sorry I was so stupid to believe that he actually —“ she sobbed into her mother’s shoulder as Demeter held her close, gently patting her back to comfort her.
“Oh, sweet pea, no. You’re not stupid, don’t you ever say that about yourself.” Demeter said softly as she started to rub her back in little circles.
Persephone then pulled away from her mother to look at her, “But I was so foolish! I should’ve…I should’ve gone with you when you left the Underworld….and I should’ve told you all of this sooner. I’m so sorry. I just didn’t want to disappoint you even more than I already have...”
Demeter once again used the little handkerchief to wipe away Perspehone’s tears as she gently held her face, “Persephone, sweetheart, you’ve never disappointed me...and you don’t need to apologize for your feelings either.” she assured her before taking her hands to hold them in hers, looking her in the eyes.
“I know I’ve shown my distaste for Hades quite a bit in the past, and for good reason, but I can tell by the way you talk about him that you care about him very much. He obviously means a lot to you.”
Persephone nodded, “Yeah…he does.”
“And you still love him…don’t you?” Demeter asked.
Persephone’s lip quivered as she felt the hot tears return to her eyes, “Yes…and it hurts so much!” she wept as she embraced her mother once more.
Demeter felt just as heartbroken as her daughter was and she hated to see her so distraught. Her first instinct was to go straight to Hades and tear him apart both verbally and physically for hurting her Persephone like this, but she knew that wasn’t the wisest decision and that wasn’t going to fix anything at the moment. Right now, Persephone needed the love and comfort of her mother, so she just held her close as she consoled her and let her cry it out.
“I know, sweetheart. I know.”
Persephone finally calmed down after a few moments and let go of her mother as she took a few deep breaths. Demeter handed her the little handkerchief so she could wipe her eyes and blow her nose. Then she spoke, her voice sounding a little bit hoarse from all the crying, “Do you…Do you think I made the right choice? Breaking up with him?“ 
Demeter gave her a warm and sympathetic smile as she brushed a strand of Persephone’s hair behind her ear, “I wish I had an answer for you, honeybee.” she replied.
The spring goddess sighed. That wasn’t exactly the response she was looking for.
“But, you know, I did a lot of thinking after I left the Underworld….and you made me realize that I’ve been coddling you and your sister for far too long. You were the one who was right all along. You’re a grown goddess who can make her own decisions…and that includes the tough ones like these.” Demeter said.
Persephone was glad to hear that she was able help to mother become a little less protective of her and her little sister, but she still wished she could get some confirmation that she was correct in her decision to end things with Hades.
“I just don’t know if I made the right decision. I feel like I should’ve just talked it out with him, but at the same time I….I just don’t know if he truly loves me like I love him.” she mused as she stared at the ground again.
Demeter gave her another sympathetic smile as she lifted her daughter’s head by her chin, “Well, you know I’m no goddess of love, but I think if Hades truly loves you…you’ll know. Besides, he’d be crazy not to love you. You’re so sweet, and beautiful, and talented. Any deity would be lucky to have you. I know I’m very lucky to have you as my daughter.”
Persephone smiled as Demeter leaned over to kiss her forehead, then hugged her mother tightly, “I love you, mom.”
Demeter smiled as she hugged her back, “And I love you too, blossom. Very much.”
After a very sweet and tender moment, the mother and daughter separated. Demeter looked over at the stone sundial that stood across from the garden bench. It was pretty late in the afternoon, and it wouldn’t be too long before sundown.
“Oh, sugar cane! I forgot, I’m supposed to be at a spring harvest festival in Troy this evening.” Demeter said before looking over at Persephone, “But, if you’re still upset…”
The spring goddess smiled again, appreciative that she was willing to stay with her longer, “No, it’s okay. I actually feel a lot better now. You go ahead. Besides, I gotta get back to Corinth. I still have a lot of work to do and Thallo is probably wondering where I am.”
Demeter returned her smile as she brushed Persephone’s bangs away from her eyes a bit, “Alright. Well, don’t push yourself out there, sweetheart. Remember, it won’t kill those mortals if spring comes a little late.” she reminded her.
“I know. I won’t.” Persephone replied as Demeter kissed the top of her head. The harvest goddess then stood up from the bench to manifest a giant tulip from the ground, the bright red petals opening up so she could step inside.
“Mother?” Persephone called out before she could step into the large flower. Demeter stopped and looked back at her curiously.
“Thank you.”
Demeter smiled fondly, “There’s no need to thank me, dearest. I’m your mother. That’s what I’m here for.” she replied before stepping into the flower. She blew a quick kiss to Persephone before the petals of the tulip closed around her, the giant flower then retreating back into the ground.
Persephone closed her eyes and breathed in deeply, smelling the sweet scent of the flowers that surrounded her and feeling more refreshed now that she was able to get that off her chest. She then stood from the ivory bench, stretched her arms, and looked out at the beautiful view of the horizon from her temple’s garden before manifesting herself back to Corinth.
~X~X~X~X~
Back in the Athenian forest, Minthe and Leuke sat by the shimmering grotto, relishing in the bounty they received from Hecate. Minthe was reclining on a low hanging branch of a tree, a small, but hefty leather sachet full of gold drachma coins in her hand as Leuke sat by the water with her own little sachet of wealth sitting in her lap.
”10,000 drachma, each! Can you believe it!?“ Minthe happily raved from the branch as she grabbed a handful of coins from the sachet, watching them fall out of her hand and back into the sachet.
“I know! We’re probably the richest nymphs in Greece! What are you gonna buy?!” Leuke bubbled with an excited smile as she examined one of her drachma coins.
“I can’t decide! I’m either gonna go on a complete shopping spree at the agora or I’m gonna buy a brand new chariot with gold trim. If I play my cards right, I could probably convince the salesman to throw in some free stallions.” Minthe answered as she continued to admire her money, “What about you?”
Leuke cocked her head to the side, “I dunno. I kinda wanted to buy a grand palace.”
Minthe frowned and raised her brow at the idea, looking down at Leuke from the tree branch, “Leuke…you can’t buy a grand palace with 10,000 drachma.” 
“Oh...what about a penthouse palace?” Leuke asked as she looked up at Minthe. The green nymph just looked back down at her with an annoyed expression, “No, Leuke.”
“Okay…then I guess I’ll just buy some souvlaki or something.” Leuke decided with a shrug.
Minthe glanced at her in confusion, “Souvlaki? Seriously? You have 10,000 drachma and you just wanna buy souvlaki?”
Leuke looked at Minthe like she was stupid before replying, “With extra tzatziki sauce! Jeez, I’m not a cheapskate.”
Minthe sighed and rolled her eyes at her friend’s stupidity, “Leuke, I swear there are harpies smarter than you.” she retorted.
Leuke smiled at the comment, “Aww, tha—“ she paused, finally catching on to the insult, “Wait, hey!”
The oceanid looked as if she were about to start an argument with the other nymph, but before she even could speak, she was interrupted by another voice.
“So…you’re still at it, eh, Minthe?”
The nymphs recognized the voice in an instant and turned their heads to find their ex boyfriend, Hades, leaning against another nearby tree, an unamused frown on his face. Minthe smirked as she slid off of the tree branch with ease while Leuke stood from the ground.
“Hey, Hades. Long time no see.” Minthe greeted him flirtatiously as she casually stuffed her sachet of money down the top of her dress. 
Hades scowled at her as he bitterly returned her greeting, “Minthe.”
Leuke simply smiled and happily waved to Hades, “Hi, Hades!” she chirped.
Hades looked over at Leuke with a neutral expression, clearly not having as much animosity with her as he does with Minthe, “Hey, Leuke.” he casually replied.
Minthe sauntered over to Hades, swaying her hips as she smiled at him with half lidded eyes, “So, you finally came crawling back to me, huh? I knew you couldn’t stay away from me.” she purred as she ran a finger down the front of his chiton.
“Yeah, you wish.” Hades responded with annoyance as he backed away from the nymph while wiping off his chiton as if she had gotten it all dirty, “Listen, I’m not here to catch up and shoot the breeze, alright? So, let’s get straight to the point: What did you say to Persephone?” 
Minthe’s smirk quickly turned to a frown at the mention of the goddess' name and rolled her eyes as she crossed her arms, “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
Hades glared at her and clenched his fists, his hair turning red as his hands burst into flames, “Do not play dumb with me, Minthe. I’m not in the mood for games.”
“I’m serious, Hades. I don’t know what you’re talking about. I’ve never spoken to Persephone before in my life.“ she declared.
“Yeah, you have, silly! We talked to her just a few days ago, remember?” Leuke said as she approached Minthe and Hades, completely oblivious to the fact that her friend was trying to lie.
Minthe’s eyes widened as she whipped her head around to give Leuke an icy stare, “Shut up!” she hissed through her teeth.
“Great, so you dragged her into it too, huh?” Hades asked as he crossed his arms and nodded towards Leuke, “What did you two say to her?” he asked once again, shifting his glare between the pair of nymphs.
“We told her the truth.” Minthe answered with a shrug as she observed her nails nonchalantly, “We told her that she wasn’t good enough for you and you were way out of her league.”
“And that you smell!” Leuke added with an enthusiastic smile.
Minthe frowned as her brows furrowed, giving Leuke a look that screamed “just stop talking” while Hades just stared at her with confusion, his hair going back to its calm blue color as his hands stopped burning. Yes, he wanted details about the conversation they had with Persephone, but he wanted details that actually mattered. However, he knew Leuke wasn’t exactly the brightest star in the cosmos, so her pointless remark didn’t really surprise him.
Leuke believed that she had provided valuable information about their recent encounter with Persephone, but Minthe and Hades’ facial expressions said otherwise, “Well, we did. Oh yeah! We also told her to break up with you.” she admitted.
That was the kind of information Hades was looking for. However, this particular detail made him absolutely livid. He grimaced at the nymphs as his entire form shifted into his classic angry red color, his hair flaring wildly past his broad shoulders.
“So, let me get this straight. You two went out of your way to make Persephone feel like she didn’t deserve me, then you TELL HER TO BREAK UP WITH ME!?” the god yelled as his body burned fiercely.
Leuke hastily jumped behind Minthe to hide behind her, placing her hands on her shoulders as she peeked her head up a bit. Minthe was completely unphased by Hades' angry outburst and continued to check nails.
Hades took a deep breath to chill out, but his scorching crimson hair was a blatant indicator that he was still pretty upset, “Why?” he growled, trying to keep his temper so he could get more answers.
Leuke, not as frightened now that Hades was a little less fiery and irate, popped her head up from behind Minthe’s shoulders, “Because H–” she started to explain before Minthe threw her hand over her mouth to keep her from blabbing to Hades. 
Minthe gave Hades a smug and slightly mischievous smirk as she spoke, “Because she needed to face the facts. She’ll never be good enough for you. You deserve someone better. Someone like me.” she said as she tossed her long green hair back in an enticing manner, the lock of hair smacking Leuke in the face in the process.
Hades rolled his eyes at the suggestion as the green nymph continued, “I don’t know why you’re so worried about her, anyways. It’s not like you two were that serious. You never even told her you loved her.”
The god sneered at her accusation as he began to angrily flare up again, “Of course I –” he began to argue before he paused. His eyes widened and his shoulders slumped as he slowly cooled down completely, hair and all.
“Oh, gods…I never told her I loved her…” he said under his breath.
The god stared down at the ground. He couldn’t believe he never once told her that he loved her…not even after their first kiss. She’s told him countless times how much she loved him and how happy he made her, but he never returned the sentiment.
“No wonder she left…she thought I didn’t love her back. Gods, what’s wrong with me!? Why wouldn’t I tell her that!? Of course I love her! I’m crazy about her! Over the moon! I can’t get enough of her!” Hades thought.
“Why would you?” Minthe asked, “She’s not worthy of your love. Seriously, I don’t even know what you saw in that pink cow.” she scoffed.
The insult immediately broke Hades away from his thoughts. He sent a nasty look towards Minthe as she turned away from him to continue carelessly slandering the goddess.
“Really! I mean, she’s fat, she’s ugly, her fashion sense is just hideous, and she’s so gullible! I can’t believe she actually believed everything we told her! She’s so stupid!” the naiad laughed.
Hades was seething with anger as Minthe ranted. His whole body was burning hotter and brighter than the sun itself, but Minthe was completely unaware. However, Leuke was still facing Hades and could see that he was very agitated.
“M-M-Minthe…” Leuke stuttered as she trembled and slowly backed away from her friend and the furious god.
“I mean, gods, it’s no wonder she’s been single for like, a thousand years! She’s the most unattractive goddess on Olympus! Who would wanna date that big, pink –” Minthe jeered before she finally noticed the broiling heat hitting her back. She turned around to find Hades giving her the most intimidatingly venomous expression she’s ever seen. The nymph stood frozen in fear as Hades raised his inflamed arm.
“One more word…and I burn this place to the ground with you in it…capisce?” he threatened. 
Minthe silently nodded, looking at Hades like a frightened deer. Hades shook his arm to make his arms and the rest body stop burning, the hateful look still plastered on his face.
“Great. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m off to go clean up the mess that you two helped create,” Hades said as he turned to walk away from his petrified exes, “and just a suggestion: if you don’t wanna become permanent residents down under, eternal punishment included…” he stopped walking for a short moment to look back at the pair of nymphs. 
“Don’t ever let me catch you talking to or about Persephone again.” the god warned before continuing his retreat.
The nymphs stayed silent as they watched Hades leave until he stopped one last time, fully turning around to face them, his expression now looking more smug and sarcastic than angry and disgusted, “Oh, and uh, Minthe? You and me? Never gonna happen, babe. Seriously, you have got to get over me…sheesh.” he said as he shook his head before finally exiting the forest in a large burst of blue fire.
Minthe’s expression promptly switched from intimidated to frustrated as she ground her teeth together, “I AM OVER YOU!” she shrieked.
The fuming naiad turned around in a huff as she stomped away, “Ugh…shut up, Leuke!” she snapped.
“I didn’t even say anything!” Leuke exclaimed in defense.
Minthe swiftly looked back and glowered at her, “I know, but you were gonna say something and it was gonna be stupid!”
Leuke pouted as she crossed her arms, “I was not!” she shouted as Minthe continued storming away from her. She then looked down with a slightly guilty expression, “Okay, maybe it was gonna be a little stupid.” she admitted quietly before following Minthe.
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aestheticpearl · 2 days
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— 𝐬𝐰𝐞𝐞𝐭
✧·˚swimming lessons from isaac can be a bit chaotic
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“you have to trust me if you’re going to actually do this.” isaac smirks as he stands waist deep in the pool water, holding an outstretched hand to you as you cling to the safety railing on the steps.
“i do trust you, i just don’t trust the water.” you squeeze your eyes shut as you take another step deeper into the water, still white knuckling the railing.
isaac can’t help but bite back a smile at your cautious form, you just looked too cute.
“i wouldn’t let anything happen to you while you’re in the water okay? please just take my hand.”
you hesitantly take his hand and he pulls you into him, your grip on the railing gone and now you grip isaac tightly due to the sudden shock of it.
“you hate me.”
he chuckles and gently removes your arms from his waist and holds your hands in front of him.
“i do not hate you. you ready to try swimming?”
“not really—”
“perfect! let’s see what we’re working with first.”
“no.”
“what do you mean no?”
“i am not embarrassing myself like that.” isaac sighs.
“i won’t be able to see if you need my help if you don’t show me.”
“okay okay fine i’m sorry i’m just nervous.” you dip your hands in the water to try and get use to the temperature.
“why are you nervous? it’s just me here.” isaac looks around the empty room to emphasize his point and then back at you.
“that’s the problem, i just get really nervous cause you’re so handsome.” you smirk and watch as a blush creeps it’s way across isaac’s face.
“just start swimming.”
you sigh as you start swimming very ungracefully in the water and isaac has to hold back a chuckle.
“i could drown and you’re laughing!”
“you are not going to drown, i am right here.” he swims over to be closer to you and you back up on instinct.
“you know, you’re pretty cute when you flail around in the water.”
“i feel stupid.” you say as you paddle your way to the shallow end.
isaac lets out a laugh as he reaches out to take your hand and easily pull you to him. the action makes you smile at how fun it is to be pull across the water so easily.
“where’d that smile come from? you like being pulled through the water or something?”
your face goes flush at the realization of the fact that you’ve made it very obvious that you enjoyed getting pulled around, unfortunately for you isaac immediately picks up on it.
“aw baby, you want me to pull you around in the water?”
you can’t help but feel embarrassed for some reason, feeling a bit childish you cover your face in an attempt to hide your embarrassment.
“hey hey no hiding i think it’s cute, here.”
isaac quickly gets out of the pool and returns just as fast with two pairs of goggles in hand and holds one out for you to take, which you do with a confused looked.
“what are theses for?” you look at the goggles then isaac, who already has them on and you can’t help but crack a smile at how he looks a bit silly. “are we gonna play mermaids? cause i don’t think i’m experienced enough for that yet.”
“what? no.” isaac takes the goggles from your hands and gently puts them on for you. your smile only grows bigger at the thought of you looking just as silly as him.
“alright now hop on.” he turns his back to you so you can wrap your arms around his neck which you do hesitantly. “ready?”
“for what?”
before you know it isaac goes under the water and you instinctively close your protected eyes as he swims to the deeper end of the pool with you clinging to him. it’s not till he taps your thigh gently that you open your eyes and realize how cool it looks under the water.
when you reach the surface isaac makes sure to keep you secure to his back since you’ve never been this deep before, but to his surprise you push off him gently to go under the water again. isaac of course follows watching how you enjoy yourself in the water.
you imagine this is what flying feels like, it’s so healing you can’t believe you haven’t done this before.
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this is dumb i am so sorry, it’s hard to describe swimming for the first time since i’ve swam my whole life. i apologize and will try better next time.
.love always <3 pearl
.masterlist
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1d1195 · 13 hours
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Honey VI
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Read Honey here | ~5.3k words
From me: I know not everyone likes smut so you can read this part directly after part 4 if you'd like. All you need to know is that they had sex in part 5.
Warnings: ANGST, fluff, mentions of sex but not describing everything. I don't think you'll like the ending to this part hehehe
Summary: “Hey kitten,” he hummed, settling her on the mattress. She looked so perfect there. Beautiful.
“Hmm?” She tucked herself into his sheets. Her face smushed into his pillow. He smiled, rubbed his hand on her hip and slipped into bed beside her. Her eyes were closed.
“Happy belated birthday.”
She snorted and tucked her face into his chest. “Thank you, Harry,” she whispered.
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Harry tossed the blanket on the back of the couch across her body. She was stretched out the length of his, her ear right on his chest, her hands cupped on the top of each of his shoulders. Her hips wedged between his legs. He wondered if she felt that his dick was already hardening pressing against the fabric of her underwear.
Pulling the thin piece of her panties from her center was one of the hottest things he had ever done before lining himself up with her. He worried he would never want her to take her underwear off just so he could gaze at the way it looked. (Although he was certain he could be convinced otherwise). His hands went to her back, and he kissed the top of her head. “You okay, love?” He asked. She nodded silently. “Y’sure?” Another wordless shake of her head. Harry ran his hand up and down her spine lightly tracing her skin like there was a pattern for him to follow. “Y’can sleep, kitten,” he whispered.
She had sex before, but it was never like that. Her body was exhausted, her face felt flushed and yeah, she was really sleepy. “Mmm?” She sighed. “Okay,” she mumbled.
“Night, love,” he kissed along her hairline.
*
They both seemed to wake up at the same time and without a clock or their phones nearby, there was no way to tell how late it was. Cece hadn’t made a peep, so she was still in the early stages of her deepest sleep. So only a few hours had passed, since her bedtime. It was still pitch black, so the power hadn’t returned either.
Harry kissed her hairline again, unaware that she was awake. In response, she kissed his chest, nosing at his skin.
“You’re so pretty.”
“You can’t see me.”
“Don’t need to.”
She smiled.
“Tell me ‘bout you,” he murmured.
“Tell you what?”
“Well, I know your favorite food is French fries and that y’like dogs more than cats. I know y’love your family even if they’re lazy and don’t show how much they love you. I know where y’went t’school and your best friend’s name is Eliza even if y’hardly see her or talk t’her.”
“There’s not much else to know,” she shrugged one shoulder.
“Why did y’start nannying? With your degree?”
She bit her lip. “I babysat most of my life,” but her voice had an edge to it. There was more and she didn’t want to tell him. Harry could sense it.
“Y’have a psychology degree with a concentration in child development. And y’have a minor in business. Something tells me that y’didn’t intend t’be a nanny. Even if you’re good at it.”
There was a long pause. Harry thought she fell asleep again. Her voice was soft. “I don’t want to scare you.”
“Scare me?”
She nodded. “It’s that baggage I mentioned?”
“I told you I would carry it,” he reminded her.
She didn’t think he didn’t mean it, but she didn’t think he knew what he was saying right before he slid his finger inside her. Her brain was already mush at that point and Harry could have told her anything as long as he made her come the way he did. Taking a deep breath, she was grateful for the dark. “I’ve wanted to be a mom my whole life,” she explained. That didn’t surprise him in the least. The way she held Cece and how kind, adoring, and doting it would be obvious to someone who was blind that she was going to be the most tremendous mother.
“I took care of dolls my entire childhood. Then there was my baby brother. I babysat from the time I was thirteen and all throughout college,” another deep breath. “I met my one and only ex-boyfriend on my first day of college classes. I was eighteen in an intro to business class. I figured if I wanted to open a daycare of my own, it would be good knowledge, right?” Harry’s finger danced along the side of her neck stroking a line up and down not saying anything, just listening. “He was young and didn’t want kids and I didn’t blame him. What eighteen-year-old does? I know I was a rarity—I had a baby brother and was around babies my whole life. I figured he would have grown out of it.”
“He didn’t grow out of it?” Harry asked.
“No... but he told me that he was definitely changing his mind. Every time I mentioned our future or our future children, he just...” she sighed. “He would say things like ‘of course, angel,’” her tone dropped an octave to imitate him. “But he talked about business and cruises. He talked about these extravagant parties and gatherings. Living overseas and expanding his business,” she shrugged. “It sounded nice, but I wanted kids.”
“You were still young,” Harry murmured. He wasn’t agreeing, but he was curious how her college-sweetheart just stopped being that. Surely that was something that would change with time.
“That’s why I stayed with him,” her voice was indifferent. “It wasn’t a bad thing at the time. I knew we both still had plenty of time,” her throat caught on the word time, and she cleared it. “He actually encouraged me to start nannying.”
Harry didn’t like her ex because she deserved everything she wanted. If she wanted to sell Harry’s company, he would do it for her. All he wanted was to see her smile. But if he was the reason that Harry found her... well... maybe he couldn’t hate him too much.
“I’ve always been pretty nurturing, protective, et cetera...” she shrugged. “My friends called me mom in college. I walked around with a mini pharmacy in my purse, and I never got drunk in college because I was busy taking care of my friends. So, my boyfriend figured I would do well, and he introduced me to a friend of a friend who wanted someone to watch their newborn.” She rolled her lips into her mouth before continuing. “I was twenty-two and I have loved babies my whole life. I stopped nannying him when he was three years old. That sweet little boy would be five now and I worry about him every day. Leaving him was the hardest thing I ever did.”
Harry frowned and kissed the top of her head, squeezing her gently. “Why?”
“His parents weren’t around. You said you felt like you weren’t there for Cece. Harry, you have no idea what some parents are like. I was going to doctor’s visits and buying Christmas presents for him on behalf of his parents. I took him to visit family that treated me like his big sister or an aunt—like I was their family and not his parents. It was awful. When I left, I felt like I gave my own child to a pair of strangers. It hurt so much. I cried for a week and seriously considered never babysitting ever again,” she sniffed and shook her head. “I stopped following them on social media. I would have kept asking because I was so scared. I had to stop, or I would... never let go and he wasn’t mine. He wasn’t,” she shook her head. “They made sure to tell me so. Every time I encouraged a change in eating habits or suggested they monitor his sleeping... they berated me for overstepping.”
“Probably because they were embarrassed, love,” he frowned and cupped the back of her head. Harry was seriously addicted to kissing her. It didn’t have to be her lips, though he loved that too. Kissing her hairline and touching her soft, delicate face was becoming his favorite thing.
“Yeah, but...” she shrugged. “It means a lot to me that you value my opinion. I don’t think you’re a bad dad at all, but you don’t mind asking questions. It’s... it’s like, I would never open a business without asking for your help,” she explained. “Does that make sense?”
“Perfect sense,” he nodded. “I would be lost without you,” his heart hurt on her behalf. “Why did y’leave?” He asked.
She swallowed. “They were pregnant,” Harry waited. “I was there six days a week from six in the morning until eight in the evening. I was exhausted and it wasn’t because I didn’t love what I was doing, I did. I loved it so much,” she whispered. “But they had made me the most important part of their family and they didn’t even know their little boy,” her voice cracked. “He told me he wished I was his mom,” her voice was hardly audible.
“Oh, kitten,” he pulled her in closer. “He loved you so much.”
“It wasn’t fair to me,” she sniffled. “I just left him.”
“Y’had to, love.”
“He told me he hated me.”
“He was three, sweetheart. Of course he did,” he hummed and kissed the top of her head. “Y’were his favorite person, his best friend.” She sobbed and Harry held her tighter, wishing he could take her pain away. “Y’did the right thing,” he assured her. “Even if it didn’t feel like it.”
She swallowed. “Everyone told me I was an idiot.”
Harry frowned. “Who said that?”
“My family, my boyfriend, my friends,” she listed. “It was such a good job. I could pay my rent and all my bills. I hung out with the cutest kid,” she swallowed.
“Did y’tell them all that other stuff?”
She nodded. “Yeah. They didn’t get it. My boyfriend said I was getting to have a baby—two even, without having to ruin my body or any—”
“God, please tell me y’broke up with him.”
She huffed a breath of sniveling laughter. “Not yet.”
Harry sighed. “So y’found another family?”
She nodded. “I had babysat for Mitch and Sarah before. I was so heartbroken, but I’m a sucker for a cute kid and a mom and dad that are in desperate need of a date night,” she smiled. “Have you seen their kid?”
He chuckled. “He’s sweet, huh?”
“I watched him weekly. Just a date night. It was only a few hours, but they were in awe because I would get bored and clean or whatever they needed. I just did it. I didn’t think about it because I was just...used to it. So, they said they had a couple that needed a nanny,” she swallowed. “I was genuinely scared. I was afraid I would be taken advantage of and I was worried... worried I was going to fall in love with them again,” she whispered. “I did, but it was better this time. Hannah and Pete were parents who wanted to be parents. They loved me, I’m sure you saw, but I was just there to keep their babies safe.”
Harry remembered the glowing recommendations. “Tara and Xavier right?” He asked. She nodded.
“It was a blessing Tara was three years old when I met her and not Xavier. I might not have done it.”
“What about your boyfriend?”
She swallowed. “I was home more, and I noticed that...he wasn’t.”
“What was his name? Y’never said.”
“Cody,” she mumbled.
There was more quiet that ensued while she gathered her thoughts. “I was twenty-four and we had been together for almost seven years...” she took a deep breath. “I didn’t want to be married necessarily nor have kids right that second... but...”
“But he didn’t really change?” He finished.
“No, he did,” her voice was hollow. “Just... not for me.”
Oh no. “Kitten,” he hummed. “What—”
“She was pregnant,” she said softly. “Three months along by the time I found out.”
Harry meant what he said about Cece and a sibling. She was still his baby, and he wanted to make sure she got the attention she deserved because he loved her more than anything in the world. But that didn’t mean he didn’t want to give her a sibling. One with Miss Honey? Harry could only be so lucky. “I hate Cody,” he grumbled.
“I’m not really a fan myself,” she whispered. Harry kissed her forehead and wished he could take her heart out and massage it like it was a sore muscle and fix it for her. “Hannah insisted I move in,” she swallowed. “I felt so stupid.”
“That was not your fault, love. Y’shouldn’t feel stupid. He’s an idiot.”
“I love my family,” she whispered. “I love them more than anything on this earth,” she swallowed. “But sometimes, I don’t think anyone loves me the way I love them,” she mumbled. “I feel really selfish saying that and I just thought that if I had a family of my own, the one I imagined with Cody and all the babies I wanted to have, then maybe I would feel loved. Like I was someone’s first choice because...” she trailed off and Harry felt a tear fall on his chest right from her cheek. She didn’t speak and Harry waited and waited.
“Christ, kitten,” he muttered. “If y’want a family. Y’deserve one.”
She didn’t say anything. Maybe she didn’t want to cry more; honestly, Harry didn’t want her to cry either. He wasn’t sure he could console her without promising to marry her right then and there. How someone dated her for seven years and never proposed was beyond him. It hadn’t even been seven hours since he’d been inside her and he was considering it.
“I’d have to quit nannying,” she added her voice was quiet. “I’m also only freshly twenty-seven. There’s still ample time. But... I have a lot of trust issues, obviously.”
“Kitten,” he tutted. “Don’t you think—”
“I don’t want to scare you,” she started which instantly made his heart beat a little faster. His body felt a little hotter. His throat a little tighter around the words he was going to say. “But I’m... my biological clock is a slave to time and if Cece turns five and starts kindergarten, then I’m probably going to have to—”
“Love, stop,” he interrupted. He wanted to say that he would give her everything. But he had her body wrapped around his less than three hours ago. Coming around his fingers, his tongue, his dick.
“Harry, I...” she swallowed. “I love Cece. An embarrassing amount,” she had a smile in her voice. “It’s impossible to find someone understanding of the nanny thing. Now I’ll always worry that the person I’m with is off making his own family with someone else,” she admitted.
“So you’re jus’ going t’accept that and... not have a family of your own?”
“No, I’ve done some research on sperm donation. It’s my best option. And that’s fine. I’ve always wanted to be a mom. I’m not sure I’d be a good wife.”
There was truly no way Harry could fathom that. There was no way she wasn’t the best at anything she did. Fuck, she was a better secretary than anyone he could possibly hire. “How are you holding up with all that baggage?”
“Light as a feather,” he mumbled grumpily. He kissed her temple. He was already planning, plotting. Hoping.
“It... it was nice talking about it,” she whispered. “What’s in your dick that made me blab all that?”
He chuckled. “Truth serum.”
“That’s disgusting,” she gagged. “Don’t tell other girls that, they won’t like it. You’re lucky I’m so cool.”
Harry wanted to ask her if she really thought there were other girls. There weren’t. But if there had been, they paled in comparison to her. There was no one else. There could be no one else anymore. He had been waiting for someone like her, unable to believe he could have someone like her any longer. He had a baby to care for and a company to run. Women didn’t love him for him anymore.
Harry didn’t love anyone besides his baby, his company, and his family.
But he hadn’t accounted for Miss Honey and her sweetness, her kindness.
After a few minutes of silence, Harry realized how tired he was again. Poor thing had to be emotionally exhausted as well. He gently moved her to the inside of the couch “Sit up for me, kitten,” he asked quietly. She rubbed her eye that extra cute way that she did like when he went to her bedroom door in the middle of the night for help with Cece.
He slipped his boxers back on and turned off the little battery-operated candles. There were scrabble pieces all over the floor, but he would deal with them in the morning. She was half asleep, eyes fluttering and trying to stay open. He grabbed their clothes from the floor and threw them into her lap with the blanket that was still wrapped around her.
Harry scooped her into his embrace, cradling her like he was carrying a bride. It made his heart skip a beat. Without discussing it, he carried her to his bedroom. He didn’t want to be apart from her. It felt like he was carrying half his heart in his arms. Her fall blanket had been long since swapped out with a Christmas one and it was draped haphazardly across her keeping her warm as the only thing she wore was the scrap of fabric she was passing off as underwear and that pretty pink bra. “Hey kitten,” he hummed, settling her on the mattress. She looked so perfect there. Beautiful.
“Hmm?” She tucked herself into his sheets almost instantly. Her face smushed into his pillow. He smiled, rubbed his hand on her hip and slipped into bed beside her. Her eyes were closed.
“Happy belated birthday.”
She snorted and tucked her face into his chest. “Thank you, Harry,” she whispered falling asleep nearly the moment she finished speaking.
*
Sleeping with her boss might be the dumbest thing she had ever done.
About ten of her romance novels consisted of this very plot line and she was victim of it per her own doing. Harry’s heavy arm was draped around her waist leaving her trapped beneath it and his soft bedding.
Fortunately, before she had time to spiral, Cece made her presence known. It gave her a reprieve from thinking about how stupid she was. It was something tangible to focus on that wasn’t the ache between her legs from having Harry—
She shook her head. Without another sound in the house, not even the quiet hum of the heating system, it heightened the sound of Cece’s small cry.
She pulled herself out from under Harry, frowning at how cold it was outside his blanket-like body. The first article of clothing she plucked from the floor—which happened to be one of Harry’s T-shirts—and slipped it over her body. Quietly, she went to Cece’s room. “Hello sweet girl,” her voice was soft, and Cece stopped crying instantly. “What are you doing?” She cooed. Cece continued to fuss without crying, so she scooped her up and kissed the side of her head. “Is it the rain and thunder?” She asked. “It’s okay. It’s just a little weather,” she assured her. “Are you cold?” she whispered. “I know,” she sighed. “Let’s go see if Daddy can keep us warm,” she murmured, kissing her temple.
Before she took one step to turn around, a hand circled the front of her stomach, pressing low, making her eyes flutter because Harry had touched and pressed so many parts of her body and he seemed to pull noises and warmth from her without even trying.
Harry’s lips found the curve of her shoulder where it met her neck, and peppered kisses along the made-up path he created from her shoulder to her ear. “You’re so good with her,” he murmured. “It’s so hot,” he whispered. She shivered even though she was about ten thousand degrees warmer than she was a moment before. “She’s cold?” he mumbled into her neck.
She nodded, unable to speak with his mouth on her pulse. He steered her out of the room by her hips, his fingers pressing against spots that he had pressed only hours before. Back toward the living room where he had made her come more times in one sitting than she had in weeks. Her cheeks felt warm as she followed his silent direction—like she was returning to the scene of a crime.
A really hot, sexy crime.
Harry left for his room again, but it was only moments before he was back at her side. He pulled her toward the couch making her stomach flip with the knowledge of what they did. He stretched his legs across the chaise part of the sofa and pulled her down, so her bum wedged between his leg and the sofa arm. Her legs stretched perpendicularly to his, across the couch.
Harry pulled the comforter he had dragged from his room across the three of them and snagged Cece’s crescent pillow from the floor, half under the couch from where it had landed while he was holding her legs open earlier. Harry kept that thought to a minimum as it was late, and she was sleepily holding his daughter. Gently, he tucked the pillow under her arms so most of Cece’s weight would be supported. “S’this dangerous?” He asked curiously.
“A few months ago, yeah... But I’m a pretty light sleeper. She’ll move before it’s an issue.”
Harry kissed the top of her head which had shifted down to the front of his shoulder. “You’re warm?”
“Very,” she promised.
“She’s warm?” He asked.
She wrapped her arms tighter around her and kissed her forehead, making Harry’s heart ache. “Mmm... are you warm?”
“Very,” he smiled. Even if he wasn’t, it was sweet she cared to ask. She was the one holding the baby. “Thank you.”
“For what?”
“For being you,” he murmured.
She tilted her head up and her beautiful wide eyes gazed at him and her lips curved upward so cutely he felt downright hot. No need for a blanket when he could see her smile like that. Harry cupped the side of her head. His thumb brushed along her cheek.
The quiet beating of his heart was under her ear and made her fall asleep.
*
Cece woke them up along with every light on in the house signaling the power was back. Harry’s shoulder felt deadened from her head against it for so many hours. He blinked against the light and glanced at the Scrabble tiles strung haphazardly on the floor. “Good morning, Miss Cecelia,” she cooed and kissed her forehead. “We’re nice and toasty, hmm?”
Harry smiled. His heart so completely full. As full as his arms felt.
“Let’s go change your bum, yeah?” She twisted slightly. “Hold her so I don’t injure you?” She smiled awkwardly. Harry really did a number on her hair while he made out with her last night, but she was still so beautiful it hurt. Her face still had a post-orgasmic glow about it and honestly it was kind of her to worry about Harry’s dick so close to her butt and not wanting to injure him, but she could probably feel it—a reminder that he was so turned on by her.
Harry kissed Cece’s cheek repeatedly. “Good morning, my sweet girl,” he cooed and nosed at her soft skin. She giggled happily and left an open-mouthed kiss on his face making him fall harder for the little baby.
Miss Honey hadn’t moved an inch while she watched the interaction, only inches from her face and she smiled sadly as she finally moved off his lap. Harry was so cold without her body around his it took every ounce of his effort to refrain from pulling her right back down.
She was still in his T-shirt and because her underwear was thin and hiding between her plump butt cheeks, it looked like she wasn’t wearing anything underneath. Harry also had to refrain from groaning at the sight. He was glad the comforter was thrown over his lap because it hid the massive amount of indecency he was sporting at the sight of her. She plucked Cece from him and headed down the hall.
Harry picked up the Scrabble tiles trying to forget how good she tasted on the back of his couch so the blood in his body would drain to anywhere else but it’s current space. Eventually, she returned to the kitchen. Unfortunately, she was wearing pants and Harry thought it was unfair she didn’t even ask if he could get another look beforehand.
Cece was wrapped, as always, around her as she started her morning routine. Food, bottle, tea, coffee. Business as always. “Kitten, y’don’t have to—”
“I don’t mind,” she wasn’t facing him. But he could practically feel the heat of her cheeks, flushed with embarrassment. Her voice was shaky. Higher than normal.
“Y’okay?” He asked, his eyebrows pinching together as he watched her work without turning around. “Y’feel okay? Not sore or—”
“Harry,” she swallowed pausing her movements and Cece was suckling on her pacifier watching the pretty woman curiously.
“What, love?” He frowned. “Y’sure you’re alright? Y’sound—”
She put a hand on her face. “Harry, I feel...” she whispered and turned around.
Harry thought she was stunning when she perched over him and slid up and down his cock. But there was nothing like the sight of her, baby on her hip, freshly fucked and flushed, and sleepy looking as she made breakfast in his kitchen. “Y’feel what?” He asked, clearing his throat before he told her he loved her. How quickly he turned into a teenage boy ready to profess his love all because she felt so good around his cock.
“Good,” she smiled sadly. “Really, really good,” she promised. Harry smiled happily. Glad she was feeling okay. “But—”
Fuck. NO.
“I think we shouldn’t have—”
“Kitten, no,” he said quickly crossing the kitchen and putting one hand on her free hip. Cece was gazing at him while her little pacifier bounced up and down in her mouth. “Love, don’t say it—”
“Harry, you employ me.”
His natural instinct was to fire her right on the spot. Then promptly propose to her.
He shoved that instinct into the bottom of his stomach, but his chest ached knowing she was going to be twenty times stronger than him because she had to be. In her head, she was all alone. Even if that wasn’t true at all. He closed his eyes. “Sweetheart,” he said softly. His voice felt broken, and his heartbeat was thudding too hard.
“Harry, I... I really don’t regret that at all. But it was,” she took a deep breath. “It wasn’t the right move,” she looked at his chest. Her face warm with a fresh blush as she probably remembered how he made her come three times in a row. “It was perfect and I like being close with you. But there has to be a line,” she said. “I shouldn’t have crossed it, and I’m sorry. I don’t regret it. Given half the chance, I’d probably do it again,” she admitted.
“We could do it again if—”
“Harry,” she laughed softly, awkwardness coating the sound.
“Angel,” he started but she winced and turned her head away like he had slapped her.
“Please don’t call me that,” she whispered. “That’s the only thing Cody ever called me and—”
“Jesus, kitten, m’sorry. I was jus’—”
“It’s okay,” she looked up briefly, but her face turned another shade darker when their eyes connected. She looked so kissable. He wanted to. Wanted to kiss her and hold her and promise she could have whatever she wanted. Harry didn’t know if she was right. Maybe it wasn’t the best way to do things.
She was employed by him. A lot closer than any other of his employees. Granted he didn’t want to sleep with Niall or give him babies the way he wanted to do for her. “I love Cece,” she reminded him. “I don’t want to jeopardize this because of...” she swallowed. “Because of what we did. We can just forget about it. It was really, really wonderful. Please don’t question that,” her voice was soft. “You’re going to take your leave and I’m going to see my family for a week or two,” she explained. “It’ll be good to have that space and maybe... maybe reset what we’re feeling.”
“Reset,” he repeated.
She nodded. "Isn't there a part of you that wonders if what we did is only because I'm around so much?"
Harry wanted to scream. How could she say that? How could she possibly believe he only made her come three times because she was there? A small voice shouted from the back of his mind: Tell her why! Harry felt his stomach flip and his heart nearly stopped beating.
She didn’t know he loved her. She couldn’t know that his adoration for her had nothing to do with her proximity.
Her innate ability to know what he needed. Organizing papers without asking, folding his laundry, caring for his precious baby.
Just... being there. But not because of space, because it wasn't just because she was present, it was her presence.
No he shook his head. She was scared. She was pushing him away. Scared of all the things she told him the night before. It was her “baggage." The baggage she claimed Harry couldn’t carry because it was so heavy.
But what had he said that made her believe he couldn’t handle it?
Cece doesn’t need a sibling right now.
But she would never want to pressure him to do that—right? Not with what he had been through himself. But then she went and told him all about the way her ex-boyfriend treated her and how it was the only thing she wanted.
I’m just going to get a sperm donor. She said it so casually. There was an expiration date. If Cece turned five before something changed, then she was going to leave.
Harry wanted to give her a million babies. However many she wanted to have, he would give her. He would do it with her. He would quit his job and let her do whatever she wanted. Everything she wanted. A family that adored her and put her first because she deserved it. A family that would travel across the world for her just because they missed her, and she was their favorite thing in the world. A house filled with babies and her pretty maternal self, taking care of them all. Feeding them medicine and making them giggle when they discovered their toes.
He wanted their future children to love her more than him because she deserved that more than anything.
Hell, Cece probably already loved her more than him already.
“Are you going to fire me?” She whispered, pulling him from his thoughts. His hand was holding his shirt wrapped around her body at her hip. The fabric bunched a little tighter than it was before. He released it.
“No, of course not,” he rolled his eyes.
But he was going to make her fall in love with him.
The sooner the better.
--
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solangelotus · 3 days
Text
she's thunderstorms
luke castellan x reader (MDNI!)
Tumblr media
and sit a little closer
summary: expressing your frustrations to silena and clarisse after a fling leads someone to your bed
word count: 4k
warnings: zeus!reader, implied smut with a different character, making out scene, clarisse x silena, plus size reader, teensy bit of angst from loser luke
author’s note: we’re back! this is a prequel post to my original post here <3 if you take a peek at the masterlist, it will have a list of parts and when everything should be published!
1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12
masterlist | series masterlist
skipping stones across the camp lake wasn’t how you imagined spending your friday evening. your stomach growls but it’s dull compared to the empty ache that fills your chest.
“why are you here alone?” you hear someone question. the voice was light, full of warmth, and melodic, and all signs pointed to it belonging to your best friend, silena beauregard. her rosy, cherub cheeks widen with a smile as you turn to look at her. her hand is enveloped by her girlfriend, clarisse la rue. you give them a half-hearted smile, and sit down on the edge of the dock, waiting for them to join them. “you skipped dinner. luke figured we would find you here.”
“i’m shocked he didn’t come with the both of you.”
“so, why are you out here alone?” clarisse questions, grabbing a stone from your hand and throwing it into the water. you give her an exasperated look and she grins in a way you can only describe as shit-eating. she always steals your rocks from you and purposefully fails at skipping them.
you look at them, their joined hands, and think of all their sneaked touches. of their love that everyone can see. it’s something that isn’t for you, something just as forbidden as your existence. you shrug and break your silence, “bad hookup.”
“again? seriously? you should really let me pick them out.”
“silena!” you scold, “the sex wasn’t the worst i have ever had. i just don’t want a relationship, and i thought i made that clear. that’s why i’m upset.”
“yeah, yeah,” she lets go of her girlfriend’s hand to wave you off. clarisse grabs her hand and pulls it down in between them. the daughter of aphrodite is always nothing but supportive, however, she does fail to understand your motivations. her whole existence is based on love, she was created out of the purest love and is full of it. she is full of beauty and often misses out on understanding that the less beautiful parts of life, like how intimacy without love, can be just as wonderful.
“lena, don’t be mean.”
“i’m not! i just don’t understand not wanting romance.”
“it was sherman yang,” you confess and stand to your feet. they both look horrified as you slowly walk backward from them, but you’re not sure you can blame them.
“my brother?!”
“sorry, clarisse,” you laugh and turn to go towards the campfire. you enjoyed your alone time, but you knew the two girls would enjoy it far more together on the dock. “i’ll see you both at the campfire?”
clarisse still looks as though she’s processing the information you dumped on her, meanwhile, silena bites her lip to hide a sheepish grin. “i think we might stay here for a bit.”
“i figured as much,” you say with a wink. clarisse wraps her arm around her girlfriend and leans in closer, but you begin your walk towards the campfire. voices bounce around the woods when you near it, and a grin plays at your lips as you see the campers dancing around and belting at the top of their lungs.
chris drones on about something clarisse did to him during combat lessons as luke stares at the tree line. your two friends went to talk to you, but deep down he hopes you will come join him at the fire. an uneaten s’more rests on a napkin in his hand. just as he decides that he could take it to your cabin later, he notices an outline at the base of the forest. chris punches his arm hard enough to throw the dessert from his palm to the dirt. “dude, you’re not even listening.”
“sorry,” luke mutters and rubs his arm. chris’s eyes search for what his brother had been staring at and when they land on you, he almost feels bad for the sweet food now on the ground. almost.
“i heard something about y/n today.”
“what?!”
“sherman was going on and on about how they hooked up and how he’s in love with them. it was annoying,” chris explains and luke’s sure he misheard. that or he was about to lose his own eaten s’more to the dirt in front of him too. “i just know you like them so i wanted you to hear about it.”
“i do not!”
“yes, you do.”
“no way,” luke tries to convince his brother but it’s a lost cause. chris knows all about the feelings he harbors for you, and his knowledge is only proven further when you approach luke from behind. you wrap your arms around his neck and lean in to rest your face beside his. “h-hi.”
“hey,” you whisper, and he feels his whole face heat up. your lips were so close they were practically brushing against his ear. a smirk plays on your lips as you turn your head to look at the other son of hermes. “hey, chris.”
“hey, y/n. luke had a s’more for you but i punched him and it ended up on the ground.”
“what?” you question in disbelief as you squeeze between the two boys. a grassy, charred marshmallow beside two chocolate-covered graham crackers catches your eyes and you glare at chris. “go make me a new one.”
“why?”
“i swear to the gods that i will interrupt lee’s beautiful song right now just to ask him to put a rhyming curse on you. again.”
“no, you won’t,” chris scoffs, but you stand and kick the pieces of the discarded s’more into the fire before making your way toward lee. when you open your mouth – presumably to yell – chris shoots up and yanks your arm back so you can’t keep walking. “i’ll make you one now!”
other campers take notice of chris’s yells and his sulking on his way to the table where the supplies lay. a chorus of giggles sounds throughout the large group, and you even catch a wide smile on lee’s face as he puts the pieces together. you return to your spot on the fallen tree log and rest your head on luke’s shoulder. “you feeling better, stormy?”
“i was fine, just a little off all day. i will be better once chris replaces my one chance at food for tonight.”
“why did you skip dinner?”
“just needed space to think,” you answer him in full honesty. hookups were fun for you. control was something you lacked in your life thanks to your divinity and parentage; control within yourself was so easy when it came to sex. your body was your own, your actions were calculated, and you could choose who and how someone could make you feel. pleasure was something entirely you, something mortals could attain too. it was something out of the fates and prophecies' control, which only made you love it more. 
something you couldn’t control was the other person though. you tried your hardest to be open and honest about it; relationships aren't for you. they never would be. they never could be. yet, much like sherman, the other person always wanted more than you could give. you lift your head from luke’s shoulder and give him a small smile. the firelight dances beautifully on his deep, brown eyes. there was something about the color that you found easy to get lost in. a color that reminded you of the earth, of something so simple and yet vital to existing. you were sure luke was something vital to your existence.   “i’ll be okay.”
he inspects your face and slowly rakes his eyes down your form. you put him in a trance. the curve of your jaw, your smaller hands, your thighs that press against him while you sit side by side, and the crinkles beside your eyes as you laugh at the song lee chooses to sing next – he fails to find something about you to focus on. dwindling you down to a singular feature feels pointless; you are anything but simple. he swears there’s nothing more ethereal than you, but especially today.
you had driven him crazy since he caught his first glimpse of you earlier in the day. your baggy, low-rise shorts, and cropped paramore tour shirt left little of your body to his imagination. he had seen you in bikinis many times before, even in less clothing than what you had on at the moment. but the shirt was from the first concert you went together to, and it ended just above your belly button. your belly hung slightly over the waist of your denim shorts as you sat; he thought he might start drooling. “do you want to talk about it?”
millions of thoughts run through your mind as you notice the way he blatantly stares at your chest. you look down at your chest to make sure there isn’t a stain on your shirt, and your brows furrow in confusion as you realize there’s not. what was he staring at? you look up at him and his eyes are looking directly into yours now, “are you okay?”
“peachy,” he says, turning his head to look at the fire. his mouth feels dry and he feels stupid. thoughts of sherman being able to press his lips and hands wherever he wanted on your body plague him. “sleepover tonight?”
“my place?” you question, even though that’s always where you host your secret sleepovers. you were the only one in cabin one, zeus’s cabin, and he was one of many in his own.
“of course.”
chris finally returns to the both of you and hands you a fresh s’more that you immediately indulge in. you did need time alone to think earlier, but you were heavily regretting losing track of time and missing dinner. 
chocolate takes residence on the corner of your mouth while you eat and remains there well after you clean your hands on the napkin. luke notices it and nudges you to point it out. “you have chocolate there.”
“here?”
“no,” he shakes his head as you wipe at the opposite corner. you miss it again, wiping too close to your lip. he uses his thumb and wipes it off for you. “there.”
the melted goo rests on the pad of his thumb, and you retrieve the napkin to hand it to him. before he can take the cloth square, he dips his thumb into his mouth and sucks lightly on it. your mind swirls before you can even comprehend exactly what he’s done. a blush reaches your cheeks. he smirks to himself and thinks that that singular act is more than sherman ever could have given you.
-
when luke walks into your cabin after making sure all of his little siblings are tucked in, he certainly is not expecting to see you in a tank top and thin linen shorts. he feels like you are testing him, which he realizes is ridiculous when he sees the layer of sweat across your chest. there’s an active heatwave, of course, you’re wearing as little as possible. “hey, stormy.”
“hey, sorry, the heatwave came out of nowhere earlier and i forgot to turn on my air conditioning. it’s going to be hot for at least another hour.”
“it’s okay,” he says and his eyes drift to your bed. he feels insecure, and inadequate, as he thinks of anyone else sleeping in your bed. you had been best friends since your arrival, many sleepovers had occurred in both of your cabins and they had all truly been innocent. at least on your part.
he looks at the sheets and back at you, your full chest rising and falling as you take in deep breaths from the air of the fan. you turn your gaze to him and concern fills you. you notice the distant look in his eyes. “what’s going on, luke?”
“can i ask you a question?”
“of course, anything,” you say and pat the ground beside you. he sits in the spot beside you on the carpeted floor and fidgets with his fingers as you look at him. he’s nervous, that much you can tell.
“did he stay here last night?”
“he?”
“sherman,” luke states, and you think your heart stops at those two syllables. no one was supposed to know aside from silena and clarisse. the two boys never talked, which meant that sherman had told someone else who subsequently mentioned it to the boy in front of you. fear fills you; your sex life was supposed to be something no one knew, something that stays personal. the last thing you need is someone saying you have the same reputation as your father.
“how do you know about that?”
“chris told me,” he pauses and sighs, realizing the panic in your face, “apparently sherman said he was falling in love with you. i didn’t know you were dating.”
a cackle escapes your throat, “dating? absolutely not. he knows that.”
luke can’t help but grin at your distaste for the son of ares. “so, you two?”
“just hooked up,” you shrug, feeling bashful suddenly, “it was why i was weird all day.”
“he didn’t hurt you, did he?”
“no, slow your roll,” you rub your eyes with your palms, trying to think of what to say to your best friend. the two of you had never strayed to this topic before. “he just…”
“didn’t finish you off?” luke questions and your eyes go wide. this was the boy who had never been in a relationship, had his last kiss when he was sixteen, and had never had sex because he was too focused on running camp. you didn’t expect him to be so blunt. you feel the flush all over your body.
“luke!” you chastise, even though he wasn’t entirely wrong. “no! i mean, i was close but i guess you’re right. my complaint is that i told him i didn’t want to date him – don’t want to date anybody, actually – and he blatantly ignored that. he’s been bothering me all day, trying to ask me on a date. at least the others always understand.”
others. the only word luke finds himself focusing on. now that he knows sherman is out of the picture, all he can think about is who is in the picture still. “others?”
“um,” you pause, the heat in your body is from embarrassment now despite the cold air blowing heavily throughout your cabin now, “there’s no one else, now. there’s only been a few.”
“few.”
“i’m not naming them, luke,” you say, sternly. you dislike his interest in the topic. usually, your fear surrounding your sexuality stems from not wanting to seem promiscuous, and not wanting to be shamed. luke shows no interest in making you feel guilt or shame but instead seems hurt. “no one’s even supposed to know.”
“can i ask you one more personal question?” you sigh and nod at his request. you prepare yourself for the worst, most invasive thing that could have come to his mind. he surprised you just a few moments ago with his bluntness, but now you can see the pink at the tips of his cheeks and the purse of his lips. whatever he’s thinking of is making him bashful, and it’s almost a relief until he finally speaks again. “why have you never asked me?”
“what?!” you squeak in surprise.
“is sherman more attractive? or the others?”
“what? no! luke, this is crazy,” you tell him and reach for one of his hands in reassurance. “that’s not- i mean, ugh. luke, you are beautiful. it’s not about anyone being more attractive.”
“you think i’m beautiful?”
“this is an insane topic and i don’t want to talk about it anymore.”
“why not?” luke whines. his sudden change in demeanor in the evening makes sense now – he was jealous? or insecure, perhaps?
“why are you pushing it?”
“because i’m tired of being inexperienced! i want to have sex and learn all of these things that all my brothers tease me about, but i want it with someone that i trust. and i don’t have time for a relationship, which everyone else who has shown interest wants. we already hang out all the time too, so it’s not like we have to sneak off or carve out time for each other!”
“what if i don’t want to have sex with you?”
“that’s fine.”
“and what if it affects our friendship?”
“it won’t,” he shakes his head, and he feels pathetic. he’s practically begging, and you love it. “we can set rules and boundaries.”
“okay.”
“okay?” he asks, giddily. he scoots closer to you, and suddenly his face is too close. the act isn’t new territory, but with luke it is. you nod, however, letting him bring his face closer to yours. “can i kiss you?”
“no,” you whisper, your lips nearly brushing, “we’re going to sleep on it. then we can talk more tomorrow, and set some rules before anything happens.”
you pull away from him and go to settle yourself into bed while he grabs the light. the vents slowly allow a faint chill to settle in the air, so when he lays down, you pull the blanket over the both of you. his breathing is slow as you reach out and pull yourself into him so you are face to face. on a typical night, he always falls asleep before you since you are often stuck in your head. even now you assume he already fell asleep with his steady breathing and closed eyes. you run a hand through his hair and he sighs.
“i can feel you staring at me,” he mutters and you blush. you thank the gods that it is too dark for him to notice if he decides to open his eyes. 
“i don’t know what you’re talking about,” you play dumb and close your eyes. you scoot down to rest your head on his chest. he toys with the ends of your tank top and reaches under it to rest a hand on the skin of your lower back. a shiver runs through you. this is new. he pushes against you lightly until you are flush against each other. you feel your heart race and your whole body feels warm. the warmth is overwhelming even with the air conditioning on full blast, yet you’re sure it’s going to get worse. you were sure you wouldn’t be able to sleep with this heat, but you couldn’t find it in yourself to push away from luke. there is something so intoxicating about feeling so close to him, about feeling the lines of his abdomen against yours.
“stormy, relax. go to sleep,” luke whispers, and kisses the top of your head. you take deep breaths to try to calm yourself and wrap your arm around him too. eventually, the sound of luke’s heartbeat and the faint sounds of the thunderstorms from your cabin walls lull you to sleep.
-
when the sunlight flows in from the windows and luke begins to wake, he fully believes the night before was a dream. you stir beside him; your hair splays over his arm that rests underneath you, and a small smile tugs at your lips when you realize the body beside yours is his. “morning.”
“good morning,” he grumbles. you laugh and suddenly he’s happy to be waking up so early. “what time is it?”
“dunno,” you answer and retrieve your watch from the nightstand beside you. it was your mother's, he thinks, and the engraved initials on the band that differ from your own confirm it as you slide it on. “almost time for breakfast. you need to go make sure your cabin hasn’t burnt down.”
“don’t i get a goodbye kiss?”
“no,” your answer wipes the smirk off his face and you laugh at his antics. you lean over to his side of the bed and press a chaste kiss to his forehead. “we will talk later.”
“how much later?” he pouts, and you almost lose your reservations for the future. truthfully, you could have jumped him then and there but he continues to make you nervous. you never sleep with friends, although sometimes your hookups infiltrate your friend group (one in particular). you never even allowed yourself to think of luke – your closest friend – in any way other than platonically. thoughts of his body plague you now; thoughts of his lips, his thighs, his hands.
“well, silena, clarisse, and i have beach plans this morning. lunch after that, and then i have archery lessons with lee. so i’m free after dinner and the campfire.”
“sounds like you’re really trying to postpone sex,” he jokes, and you punch him in the arm, “i’m kidding!”
“we’re not having sex tonight.”
“we’re not?”
“no, we’re taking this somewhat slow. you’re my best friend who i love very much, not some acquaintance i see occasionally throughout camp,” you explain. luke was telling the truth, he was very inexperienced. there was little to no doubt that he was truly ready, but you could never deprive him of everything that could lead up to a person’s first time. “tonight, we will talk and slowly progress towards more.”
he groans and rolls out of your bed dramatically. you stifle a laugh until he finds your hands and pulls you to the floor. the straps of your tank top fall off your shoulders, and luke’s lips find their way to your collarbones once you softly land on top of him. a gasp escapes your lips as he holds you tight, his fingers pressed hard against your spine. the warm heat from the kisses trails all the way to the tips of your shoulders, and you pant, thinking about how nice it would feel if he just used his teeth a little bit. “i just needed to do that finally.”
“finally, huh?” you question, lightly pulling the hair at the nape of his neck. he maneuvered you both until you straddled him with his back against the side of your bed. your closeness should be more than enough, yet luke wants nothing more than to pull you closer. nothing would ever be close enough. “how long you been thinking about it?”
a blush rises on his cheeks and settles on his neck. the confidence he had just seconds ago disappears in light of your question. “i think since that time you beat me and pinned me down during capture the flag.”
“we were like sixteen!”
“and it was hot! oh my god, you staring down at me drove me crazy.”
“you horny ass! is that why you let me beat you now?”
“oh, i don’t let you beat me,” he admits, and your eyebrows shoot up in surprise, “you just are that good with your sword.”
you always assume luke pulls his punches (or his strikes, you suppose) with you because you’re such close friends. it’s reassuring that you come as a close second to the best swordsman at camp – however, percy is learning fast.
the conch horn sounds throughout camp, and soon everyone would gather for breakfast. neither you nor luke moves from your position; he stares at you with those deep, brown eyes, and every decision you thought you made before wavers. laughter and shouts from outside start to fill the quietness of the cabin, and you decide it isn’t so bad to let the guard down sometimes.
luke’s body momentarily tenses up as you slam your lips into his. he quickly relaxes, moving his hands to your plush hips. the touching is vulgar, but the kiss is so soft. his thumbs dip into the very top of your linen shorts, tracing the curve of your stomach and hips. your hands grip his forearms in an attempt to keep them on you for as long as you can – yet he can’t even imagine letting go. 
your lips move languidly, your tongue barely grazing his bottom lip as he pushes his face more into yours. he gasps when your core grinds against his subconsciously, needily, and you take the chance to slide your tongue against his.
although it’s the last thing you want at the moment, he pulls away whenever your stomach lets out a loud rumble. you rest your head against his shoulder as your bodies shake with laughter. “let’s go get some food.”
taglist of those who showed extra love on the first post 🫶: @kamaluhkhan @fubureaders @daisydark @wstcoastcoll3ctive @nina-isabelle
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darlingofdots · 2 days
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What is a romance novel, really?
So far, the response to this post has mostly shown me that a lot of people don't actually know what a romance novel is, and that's okay! I don't expect everyone to know! However, for my own peace of mind, I am going to do my best to explain what we mean when we talk about romance novels, where the genre comes from, and why you should not dismiss the pastel cartoon covers that are taking over the display tables at your nearest chain bookshop. Two disclaimers up front: I've been reading romance novels since I was a teenager, and have dedicated the majority of my academic career to them. I'm currently working on my PhD and have presented/published several papers about the genre; I know what I'm talking about! Secondly, all genres are fake. They're made up. But we use these terms and definitions in order to describe what we see and that's a very important part of science, including literary studies!
The most widely used definition of "romance novel" to this day is from Pamela Regis' 2003 A Natural History of the Romance Novel, in which she states that "A romance novel is a work of prose fiction that tells the story of the courtship and betrothal of one or more [protagonists]."* People also refer to the Romance Writers of America's "a central love story and an emotionally satisfying and optimistic ending" and another term you will see a lot is "Happily Ever After/Happy For Now," which posits that the protagonists must be in a committed and happy relationship at the end of the novel in order to count as a romance novel. That's it. That's what a romance novel is.
Of course it's a bit more complex than that; Regis also posited the Eight Essential Elements which describe the progression of the love plot over the course of the book, and there's a similar breakdown from Gwen Hayes in Romancing the Beat that is intended more as writing advice, but both of these are really useful for breaking down how this narrative structure works. My personal favourite part of the Eight Elements is that the romance opens with a definition of the society in which the protagonists exist, which is flawed in a way that oppresses them, and then the protagonists either overcome or fix it in a way that enables them to achieve their HEA. A lot of social commentary can happen this way!
It can also be a bit difficult to pin down what exactly counts as a "central love story" because who decides? A lot of stories have romance arcs in them, including dudebro action movies and noir mystery novels, but you would never argue that the romance is the central plot. A lot of romance novels have external plots like solving a mystery or saving the bakery. A useful question to ask in this case is whether the external plot exists for its own sake or to facilitate the romance: when Lydia runs off with Wickham in Pride & Prejudice, it's so that Lizzie can find out how much Darcy contributed to saving her family from scandal and realise her own feelings for him. The alien abduction in Ice Planet Barbarians happens specifically so the abducted human women can meet and fall in love with the hunky aliens. There are definitely grey areas here! Romance scholars argue about this all the time!
I have a suspicion that a lot of people who responded to the post I linked above are not actually romance readers, which is fine, but it really shows the lack of understanding of what a romance novel is. I have a secondary suspicion that the way we have been talking about books has contributed to this miscategorisation in a lot of people's minds, because especially with queer books we will often specifically point out that this fantasy book is f/f! This dystopian novel has a gay love story! This puts an emphasis on the romance elements that are present in a book when a lot of the time, the romance arc is just flavouring for the adventure/uprising/heist and we are pointing it out only because its queerness makes it stand out against other non-queer titles. It makes sense why we do this, but there is SUCH a difference between "a sci-fi book with an f/f romance arc" and "an f/f sci-fi romance." I could talk for hours about how the romance genre has evolved alongside and often in the same way as fanfiction and how there are codes and tropes that come up again and again that are immediately recognisable to romance readers, even down to phrases and cover design, and how romance is an incredibly versatile and diverse genre that functions in a very specific way because of that evolutionary process. The same way that dedicated fantasy readers can trace the genealogy of a given text's influences ("this writer definitely plays a lot of DnD which has its roots in the popularity of Tolkien, but they're deliberately subverting these tropes to critique the gender essentialism"), romance readers are often very aware of the building blocks and components of their books. These building blocks (that's what tropes are, lego pieces you put together to create a story!) often show up in other genres as well, especially as part of romantic arcs, but that doesn't make every book that features Only One Bed a romance novel, you know?
Romance is an incredibly versatile and diverse genre and I really highly recommend exploring it for yourself if you haven't. I personally read mostly Regency/Victorian historicals and I've been branching out into specifically f/f contemporaries, and there are so many authors who are using the romance framework to tell beautiful, hard-hitting stories about love and family while grappling with issues of discrimination, disability, mental health, capitalism, you name it. The genre has a very specific image in a lot of people's minds which makes them resistant to it and it's not entirely unjustified, but there is so much more to it than Bridgerton and repackaged Star Wars fanfiction!**
*the original text said "heroines" but Regis later revised this. There is a very good reason for the focus on the heroine in the first couple waves of romance scholarship, but that's a different post!
**neither of these are a bad thing and part of that genealogy that I mentioned earlier.
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sumikatt · 3 days
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a generative AI workflow for art that can't reasonably be detected as "AI use"
before we start:
I am an artist with original art in my art tag dating back to 2017
I think intellectual property is a farce and i hate copyright
I don't think image scraping and using it as training data is stealing, the same way I don't think piracy is stealing
I have used my own laptop hardware for these image generations, not any online service
Images are not described, apologies
Step 1: Concept (txt2img)
Let's do a basic edgy fallen angel character as our example. The prompt was something like "fullbody edgy fallen angel, short hair wearing leather vest, chain accessory, broken halo, wings"
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Model used: Counterfeit v3.0
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Model used: Flat 2D Animerge v4.5
Step 2: Pick and choose parts, then trace
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Since I've traced over a completely new image, it is impossible to detect that I've used generative AI at all. It can't be reverse-searched. For all intents and purposes, this is "original artwork by a human".
You can stop here, but I wanted to toss it back in to see what I'd get.
Step 3: img2img generation
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I've added a dark background and an outline to the boots for clearer separation of character and background. This generation was done with a high CFG (guidance scale).
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For reference, here's high CFG to lower CFG from left to right.
Step 4: Upscale and paintover
Obviously, these aren't flawless images. So we'll paint over some parts manually until it becomes "human art"
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I only did the face for brevity's sake. I've fixed lighting, flattened out the noise, fixed her vest, and overall tried to make it more consistent. Direct paintover is a harder to execute, but it is completely possible to cover all "tells".
It's not my best work as I'm not that experienced with anime style illustration, but it will pass a general AI sniff check (using sightengine).
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for comparison, here's some of my other original paintings.
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Closing thoughts
You'll never really be able to actually 100% identify any art as AI generated or assisted, unless you're literally watching an artist over their shoulder. Models are only getting better at generation. Generative AI is just a Pinterest replacement in terms of art tools, really. Harassing artists and fearmongering about the use of AI is stupid and reactionary. You can still enjoy art even if it's generated.
The end
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I love the Gravity Falls fandom because, like, you can headcanon any character as trans in any direction with like. Three exceptions.
Uh, headcanons below cut I guess
Dipper? We can make a good case for trans masc and trans femme. I tend towards trans masc because he's a little guy and just like me fr fr, but like, I like her, too, I find her cute in the punt-that-small-child-(affectionate) way.
Stan and Ford? Well, they're identical and I've seen a lot of them both being transmasc which I love and trans femme Stan and Ford actually make me feral. I need to do some things with transfemme Stan and Ford actually, I've seen them floating around and they're so cute and wholesome. Old trans sisters to me.
Side headcanon, Stan and Ford are extremely accepting even if they're cishet. Like Stan to me knew queer people in New York who died in the AIDS crisis. Like he can name people on the AIDS quilt to me and the only reason he wasn't hit by it and didn't die to it is he had to move to Gravity Falls. And Ford has a weird conception of gender that's shockingly progressive because multiverse.
Soos, okay, well, I haven't seen trans Soos around but like. First of all, super neglected character (I say as I do nothing with him). And second of all we are SLEEPING on trans Soos. A couple of the reasons for transfemme Dipper hold up here, mostly being the going-only-by-a-nickname thing. But also like, Soos's abuelita seems like just the most tolerant person ever and would so just go "Oh. I have a grandson/daughter now." and move on with her life. And also can someone draw transfemme Soos because I have a vision and if you saw it you'd agree because I can't get over her but like I can't even describe it it's just. Transfemme Soos in a corset. Transfemme Soos putting on a skirt for the first time. You feel me? Oh, and nonbinary Soos, too, just like. Soos went from very cis to the most gender human being ever to me very fast.
The three exceptions to me are Wendy, Mabel, and Pacifica (and it's up for debate whether Pacifica's even an exception).
Mabel is always transfemme. She can't for the life of me be a guy and I can't explain why. She's either transfemme or cis. Sorry, that's a girl to me and she always will be.
Wendy is either a cis woman or a trans man, and probably honestly falls on either extremely-masculine-man or tomboy-cis-woman for me. I can't really see her as transfemme.
And Pacifica is trans masc to me. I don't even see him as cis, he's just a guy. A man. Alternatively, the reason he's one of the execptions is because I was working on Divine Falls stuff and I went "what if he's genderfluid lol" and then "oh wait that's actually cool" so he's either a trans man or genderfluid to me, but like. He's genderfluid in the "getting my tits cut off and taking hormones does not make my gender one thing, I am unknowable and my gender is whatever pisses you off the most" sorta way. (Unrelated I think genderfluid Pacifica would do great on Tumblr)
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bomber-grl · 1 day
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Enemies to lovers with Leo Valdez
Pairing(s): Leo Valdez x Gn!Reader
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If anything it probs stemmed from a misunderstanding
Maybe you were cranky the first two times he ever approached you
And perhaps you may have taken it out on him
And maybe just maybe he thought u were those stereotypical condescending people
Basically what ensued from then on was just you two attacking each other verbally each time you ran into each other
But then you’re officially introduced to him by either Percy or Annabeth or anyone else that’s part of the 7 that’s close to you
He’d be especially shocked if it’s Piper or Jason who introduces you two to eachother
Of course that doesn’t automatically solve anything and you’re both total assholes to each other still
Leo is complaining about you and how could any of his friends also be yours?
You feel the same exact way
And unfortunately this is a case of forced proximity as is all my hcs because I’m an uncreative bitch
Maybe it’s just me but I’d imagine constant bickering and making faces would be a bit hard to ignore and go unnoticed
So they all agree to force you two to get along
So you’re on the Argo ll and are forced to clean the stables
(Before the Athena Parthenos is put there obv)
It’s not messy messy but it’s still something
You two both finally agreed to be quiet
But then he gets almost thrown out the window by the ship getting rocked by a monster or something
And so you have to save him by obligation
You two are literally hanging out the window and Leo is yelling like crazy bro
Eventually you bring him back and he thanks you
It was done reluctantly- you make sure he knows that
Plus the situation gives you material to make fun of him for 💀
Then some time after that you’re fighting some daily monsters and he (despite not rlly being a fighter) helps you out by firing some of the weapons on the Argo
This incident spawns this unspoken alliance??
Literally everyone else is made aware of it too and even they’re confused
But honestly at least you’re not constantly at each others throats anymore
Instances where you saved each others asses continued from then on out
It got to the point where you saved eachother so often that you became literal 4lifers
Like genuinely enjoying each other’s company despite the occasional off handed remarks
There was obvious tension that you were both teased for by your individual friends
Even couch Hedge acknowledged it 💀
And youd both deny it
I mean it was the obvious choice
But there had always been tension between you two if you’re being honest
Like if someone asked you if you thought Leo was cute , well let’s not say you’d say he was, just that you really couldn’t deny it
And so your interactions and dynamic continued all the way until the prophecy that started this quest came to an end
And so did you interacting with Leo
He was dead, and despite having liked him, you’d never be able to tell him.
That’s something you had come to accept, and something you realized you’d never get the chance to admit to him
Until you could.
Leo appears back at camp with Calypso in tow
Let’s just say Leo felt ok about her and saved her cuz he’s a good guy and she went along cuz she wanted an escape)
Anyway like everyone else you line up to hit him
Ain’t no way you’re running to him when there’s so many other ppl infront 💀
Gods forbid YOU end up being the one that gets jumped
Even from the good amount of distance you’re away from him you can still very much see his- what can be best as described- upset demeanor
Why he looked that way? You didn’t know and couldn’t tell even if held at gunpoint
Well anyways eventually you end up face to face with him and his expression can’t even be described with just a few words
So ill try anyway
Hes absolutely star struck and, in truth, made breathless from the sight of you alone
I mean with the way Leo looks at you, you’d think he spotted his only true want in this world.
The guy doesn’t say anything at all but then he sorta gains consciousness (?)
He tries to hug you but then hesitates- tries again/ then hesitates
Before he could do anything else you slap the hell out of him 💀
The act is honestly so violate and loud it was genuinely startling
Some would say that you jumped him that day of his return but what did they know??
And then you hugged him
A deep, emotionally charged hug
All the days you had spent mourning him, being tortured by his death that you couldn’t help but feel was avoidable despite the prophecy-
And yet you couldn’t help but melt into the hug
Obviously awkwardness follows after- and for a good while after too
But in the end you two end up together (per advice from emmie and Jo once Apollo casually mentioned the undefined relationship between you two as defense against a remark Leo had made)
And after Apollo is done at the waystation (and you’re not already involved there)Leo will ask if you’d want to stay there together and go to school and be “normal” teens.
The answer is up to you, but we all know what you’re gonna choose
Cmon you’re reading this so you’re obviously down bad 💀
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olderthannetfic · 9 hours
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Is there gay fiction that feels like fanfic of non-gay media, and if so how can I find it?
I can only find stuff that's very overtly in the romcom or dark fantasy genres (aka the only genres that visibly exist these days), where characters seem to be created to be titillating, but I wanted more like, normal dudes solving a mystery and falling in love along the way or something.
--
Well... there's my day job, nonnie...
But self-promotion aside, the terms you're looking for are "BL" or "m/m romance". The kind of thing you describe is mostly self-published by and for an audience similar to who uses AO3. Right now in 2024, much of it is on Kindle Unlimited and even more of it is ebook only.
A lot of it is more or less marketed as romance, hence the name "m/m romance", which tends to get used by the people not coming out of anime and other Asian media fandoms. (I think we should call all of it BL, honestly, but the more Western end of things is full of people who've never heard that term.)
Even the stuff promoted as "romance" will often be mystery novel series with a central couple rather than really traditional genre romance.
There is some queer mystery from traditional publishers. I have no idea what's big now, but there were various series with gay leads a billion years before other genres caught up. Some of it has more of a cis gay dude big US city culture, which does not feel like fic.
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It sounds like you may be relying on mainstream publishers and paper books. For the content you want, this is a big error. Selfpub was vanity published garbage in the 90s, but some time between 2010 and 2015, there was a seismic shift as ebooks finally fully took off.
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bicheetopuff · 22 hours
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By the end of the story, I stopped being a bkdk shipper because Hori made it seem so one-sided on Bakugo's side. Does Izuku even care about him or think about him by the end of the story? He seemed to care more for Ochako and even Iida. Meanwhile Bakugo and Izuku didn't even have an actual resolution on anything, never had a decent reciprocated convo and Izuku doesn't even acknowledge anything Bakugo did. In the last chapter, he becomes a very passive character. He doesnt even try to be a hero until the class hands him the suit. He doesnt even have on screen convos with anyone besides AM. Hori's writing was so weak for his character and relationships with others at the end.
I’m sorry you felt that way, I guess? They had a resolution, and I honestly think it was the best one in the series because Hori didn’t have to outright explain it in text for it to have the emotional impact it had.
Their whole thing was fixing their relationship and learning to become heroes who save and win simultaneously, instead of one or the other. Which they did, in narrative terms.
Also things don’t have to be said out loud to just be understood/implied. Deku watching Katsuki cry with tears in his eyes is a sign of care. The way he reacted to seeing Katsuki’s body is a sign of care. Shigaraki calling Katsuki the closest person to him, is proof that people in the story can see their relationship through implication just fine. Also, does the cover to volume 37 just mean nothing?
All of those implications, plus the other implication that Izuku doesn’t like thinking about how he feels when it comes to Katsuki, nor does he like acknowledging it unless he absolutely he has to. It’s not a writing flaw on horikoshis part, it’s an intentional character flaw that never showed signs of having development, because its development wouldn’t have been important to the overall story. It’s just something we’re supposed to notice and it’s made decently obvious that this is the case considering DvK2 and his vigilante arc, the latter especially.
When Katsuki being stabbed actually happened, you can tell it affected Izuku way more than Aizawa and Torinos injuries and he literally almost died cuz of his reaction to it, yet he pushes it to the back of his mind when he leaves UA after writing a letter to Katsuki that was different than everyone else’s. Or after Katsuki apologized, we get no internal thoughts about him like we did for the rest of the class when the retrieval arc happened, yet Izuku ends up stumbling and falling into Katsuki’s arms as opposed to literally anyone else’s. Not to mentions the fourth episode of the memories recap in the anime, solidifying this theory by giving him PTSD about Katsuki being stabbed. Also:
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It’s said in text… “…somewhere deep inside…” meaning it’s intentionally not on the forefront of his mind. Also I think the 1:1 translation to this scene, he described his feelings as “gross,” meaning he’s somewhat ashamed of them.
Also is Izuku supposed to just not care about his other friends? Iida and Ochako were literally his first real friends, of course Hori is gonna highlight them in the end.
Izuku is passive in the end, because he’s always been a passive character. It’s just apart of his personality. And he doesn’t try to be a hero for several years, because wtf is he supposed to do? In the society they live in, you really can’t fight criminals without a quirk unless you fight hand to hand, which won’t work against people with quirks who don’t care about fighting fair. It’s not like he could’ve gotten his own suit on a teachers salary. He doesn’t try because he just accepts and appreciates that it was a short lived dream that he got the chance to actually live.
There’s less focus on Izuku’s development and his relationships with the people around him, because Izuku’s the only character that didn’t “need” development because he’s already a “perfect hero” by Japanese standards. He’s kind, driven, respectful, and sacrificial. The only development he has and needed for the sake of the story was trying to be more confident in himself, and letting himself accept help from others. Everything other flaw, is purely personal to him. Other characters bring up his flaws to him in the story, but no one can make him consider changing those flaws except for him, because those flaws only affect him, and his biggest flaw is that he literally does not take himself into account for anything. He doesn’t care about making himself happy. It is literally purposeful.
Now, I think the epilogue in general was just rushed and I do wish he was able to having meaningful conversations with more characters, like todoroki and his mother, but I don’t think those open doors lessened the integrity of the entire frame. I do wish he had a conversation with Katsuki, but I also understand that it wasn’t really needed either. It’s not a slice of life, after all. The only thing I think we didn’t get the best conclusion on, is bkdks handhold.
Also saying Izuku doesn’t care about Katsuki is such a weird take ajdnejdn
THAT. IS. SO. FUNNY!!
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