#im gonna lose followers for this but whatever

[sluckythewizard]

'I wont cry for you, I wont crucify the things you do. I wont cry for you, see, when you're gone, I'll still be BLOODY MARY'

[deoidesign]

Hello! I just discovered your blog and I immediately became captivated by your webcomic, but I'm unsure where to read all of it. I know it's on Webtoons, but I can see it hasn't been updated for a while, and you still post about it.

Are your physical novels just prints of the webcomic? Are they a continuation? Is the story complete? Thanks in advance!

Hi there!

Glad you found me and are enjoying my comic!

It's only on webtoons, and the story is not complete yet! We're 2/3 of the way through right now. It's currently on hiatus, and it's scheduled to come back in about 2 months!

I'll explain why it's been so long if you're curious, but also for my followers who might also be wondering about it under the cut. Sorry, it's pretty much just me complaining haha

I took a month off I took 2 months to get the books printed I took a month to prepare my next comic and I took 2 months to write the rest of the series (I knew the character arcs I wanted, but not the time periods or mysteries!!!) I've been working on actual episodes since then

I had to take some time off because of some pretty extreme burnout due to the sheer amount of work it was to draw over 800 pages and write 6 complete stories in a year and a half... I was getting sick almost weekly due to the overwork, it was really really bad honestly. I was having to work 60+ hours every week just to keep up...

The nature of the comic itself is also difficult... Each of the arcs is a complete, self contained story which can be read (ideally) without context, and my arcs need to be about 10-13 episodes each... And since I have an exact number of episodes to work with, it's even harder.

It takes a ton of planning and a ton of refinement, and working week to week with no breaks I was forced to put out second or even first drafts, so I just wasn't happy with the work I was doing... And to do that for the rest of the series? I wouldn't be proud of the work I did.

Plus... To be entirely honest, webtoon has treated me quite badly IN MY OPINION... They deprioritized me before I launched (I had to beg for more promotion, I'm not exaggerating), they outright denied me the opportunity to even ask for a raise, I don't make any money on fast pass and they pay me less than my partner makes working at trader joes. My first editor left me completely hanging, my second editor (who I loved) was fired... And they told me I wouldn't get a third season before my first season even finished. So it was just repeatedly completely demoralizing.

I'm sorry it has taken so long, it'll have been 10 months by the time I come back. But I realized... I won't get promotion either way. I won't get more episodes either way. I won't get more money either way. So to finish everything, to make it feel good, to make it something I'm proud of, I chose to take longer to make it better.

I am fully aware I will lose a significant amount of my readership for this and it might genuinely affect my career moving forward. But it's what I had to do! So I'm sticking to my guns on it, and I'm confident long term it'll be worth it. It never could have been this good if I didn't take this much time.

[bobcat-pie]

I'm constantly wondering when to set my queued posts.

I've got an art account that i sometimes log onto and queue stuff for, but it doesn't get anywhere near as much engagement as this account does! I was wondering if changing the queue time could help that.

Sorry I don't have a "see results" option! it only lets me have 12 buttons. I'll reblog the poll when it's finished, but if you can't wait to see the current results, please pick a random one to limit artificial data skewing!

also please reblog for a bigger sample size. please please please, this survey is already flawed, at least give me a big sample size so i can get an answer

[mildmayfoxe]

my boss is in today and was like “i can’t give you the three month raise you’re owed that i promised i would start doing a few months ago because we aren’t making enough money :(((( but you should take a vacation this summer!!! and hey remember how i promised you a personal workspace in the warehouse a full year ago? maybe we should make that happen!!” like ok girl. whatever

[infizero]

like he's literally their guard dog do you get it. do you understand. this shit is making me crazy

[sunieepo]

tbh i've purposefully avoided posting anything about AI art onto any of my public accounts because i just know my opinions on it wouldn't be popular. and i'm saying this as someone who is really, REALLY passionate about art - creating and critiquing art are literally my lifelong passions. but so much of this AI art debacle has become about people making bizarre declarations about what is or isn't "real art" - defining it using nebulous metrics like "the soul" and such.

the ethical issues with AI art as it currently exists are undeniable, and i wish people would focus on that instead of trying to define what "real art" is. because the thing is, gatekeeping the definition of "real art" has been going on for centuries! there are still people today who think video games aren't real art, even. a few decades ago, there were people who thought movies (cinema, film) couldn't be real art! the definition of art evolves and grows, and i resist and question any effort to suppress that.

some thought exercises for people who think they can define "real art" so simply:

is animal-created art real art? are pufferfish nests real art? are elephant paintings real art? does an animal have to reach a certain threshold of intelligence in order for its creations to be considered art?

is duchamp's fountain real art? for those unaware, this was a mass-manufactured urinal that the artist signed and submitted for an art exhibition as is, with no alterations aside from signing it with a marker.

is digital art real art? remember that digital art comes from machines translating human input into pixels on a screen. is this an acceptable use of machine intervention in art creation because the software performing these actions was not created using machine learning? is it because the human has more perceived control over the output?

is photography real art?

is music real art? is music composed using digital software real art? if a song utilizes a heavy amount of sampling, is it still real art?

many digital artists use software that allows them to create layers with filter options that adjust the colors of the layers beneath them using an algorithm (overlays like multiply, screen, etc). in this case, the colors of their images have been digitally altered by a piece of software in ways that most artists don't fully understand. is the image created as a result of this process still real art? can the artist claim full human ownership of the colors, which were digitally altered using a machine algorithm? would your opinion on this change if the machine algorithms behind overlay layers were created using machine learning?

some digital artists make use of "pen stabilization", a type of software algorithm that manipulates tablet pet inputs into a steadier curve to remove jitter. are lines drawn using heavy amounts of stabilization still the artist's? can the artist claim human ownership of lines drawn using near 100% stabilization?

many digital artists will use stamp brushes to get past having to repeatedly draw a static pattern, such as to fill the leaves in a tree. this is essentially a glorified version of copy and pasting repeatedly, except that a software algorithm introduces semi-random rotations and color jitter to give a more natural appearance. is a tree drawn using this process still real art? does your opinion on this change if the artist created the stamp themself, vs downloading it from another artist? does it change depending on how granular the artist was with making manual adjustments to the stamp outputs?

what proportion of an image is allowed to come from stamps, filters, and software tool usage before it stops being real art? is photobashing real art? what percent of an image has to come from freehand drawing for it be considered real art?

are edits of other people's art real art? does your opinion on this change if the editor had the original artist's consent? what percentage of the pixels has to have been changed by the editor before it is worthy of being considered real art?

one popular usage of "AI art" is to apply an "AI filter" over an existing image, which takes a drawing and then utilizes a machine learning based model to alter the image pixels. is an image created using this process real art?

if a person generates an image using a machine learning model, such as stable diffusion, and then draws over that image, is the resultant drawn-over image real art? what percentage of the pixels has to come from a human hand for it be considered real art? what if it was only 1 or 2 pixels that were manually manipulated? what if the only thing a human adds is an overlay filter?

if a person generates an image using a machine learning model, such as stable diffusion, and has very strong intent and emotion about how they want the resultant image to look, tweaking their prompts and specifically trying many different options before the output is in accordance with their vision, why is this not real art? is it because they did not specifically intend on every single pixel in this image? what percentage of pixels in an image has to have specific human intent for an image to be considered real art?

in 3d animation, physics simulations are used to calculate the positions of moving objects, and then artists manually adjust the outputs in accordance with their desired product. spider-verse, for example, was partially created using a combination of "traditional" software and some in-house created machine learning models. is the animation created using this software real art? does it only become real art once a human has gone in and reviewed it? is an individual frame of animation that hasn't been reviewed by a person and was generated via software and simulations not real art? would your opinion of this change if the machine learning models had not been created in-house? would it change if the training datasets had been acquired unethically?

if a traditional artist closes their eyes and splashes paint at a canvas, is the resultant splash of paint real art? if the artist had no emotion or specific intent when casting the paint across the canvas, is this still real art? are pollock paintings real art?

can a mistake be real art? if an artist tips over a can of paint and creates a beautiful spill, could they present the canvas as is with no further alteration, and that resultant image be considered real art?

can art styles be "stolen"? do artist own their art styles?

do you support copyright law? how much inspiration is allowed to be taken from something before it is considered plagiarism vs derivative, and should derivative works be punished?

what is the precise difference between the way ai art "steals" art styles, vs the way a human being takes inspiration from them? remember that many machine learning models take directions and instructions from humans, and often do not learn in a vacuum devoid of human intervention.

some very popular artists, who i will not name, have been accused of having "soulless" art. these artists "mass-manufacture" their images to look very similar and consistent and have seen a lot of financial success as a result of their repetitive works. is their "soulless" art still real art, even if it was made completely without the use of AI technology?

were you bothered by images generated by dall-e, back before stable diffusion became popular? did you consider images generated by dall-e to be art? did you consider dall-e to be unethical?

what is it about machine learning models that separate any software derived from it from software made without the use of machine learning? why is the usage of an art program that did not come from machine learning seen as ethically superior? what is ethically wrong with machine learning models? is it only if the training dataset was scraped without acquiring explicit consent? is it only if the learning was performed supervised vs unsupervised?

can software itself be art? can you find artistry in the way a program has been written - in the lines of code created by a human? in the intent and emotion of the programmer who crafted a piece of software?

please note i'm not trying to be condescending by asking these, and don't assume you know my answers to these questions, either. these are questions i asked myself when i was chewing through these debates and trying to quantify exactly what i found so objectionable about many of these "what constitutes 'real art'" takes.

reblogs off because i don't want to engage with strangers on this topic. i'm open to debate but only if you're going to be civil about it. please remember that i'm an artist too.

[snekdood]

Idk why i expect charitability from ppl who probably listen to whatever their staple favorite left-leaning video essayists says about the Other Leftists they dont like and takes it to heart and doesnt form their own opinion with the information provided (or the information specifically and intentionally left out to make the person look the worst that they can) just kinda does whatever that persons says because Its Probably Correct

I mean, theyre "on the left" and uses all the words you like, nevermind what their intentions or long terms goals are or how thatd reasonably be practiced irl or if it'd actually hurt the general cause of progressives and make things even more divisive and worse bc they value being petty more than actually having any values.

[wholesalesoftie]

hey btw moved to @cherried-softie <3

[pyrriax]

well after i almost just accidentally posted to the powcreations update blog (i was adding image ids earlier)

i need to be normal (i cannot be normal) about. so many things.

[tiredlinguist]

ogh

[devotedlystrangewizard]

one of these days im gonna start running alliance raid roulette as healer JUST BECAUSE i have seen too many people die to the doom effect in the first boss of dun scaith. im sick of it. have none of you ever heard of esuna. "ill just rez them" REZZING HAS A 2400 MP COST AND AN 8 SECOND CAST TIME. FUCK OFF

[makethemhoesmad]

love you till my lungs give out

paige bueckers x reader

word count- 2k(lord)

notes: this fic was such a great write for me, as it focuses around eating disorders, which is something i’ve personally struggled with. i know this is a sensitive topic, so please, if this makes you uncomfortable, scroll away, or read at your own risk.

thanks to: literally the biggest thanks ever to @melpthatsme for dming me your idea and helping me work through it, i really could not have done this without you, so everyone thank them

also thanks to @imaginespazzi and @bueckersstrap for reacting to my random messages about this

—

the first time it happened, i barely realized i did it.

“paigey, my head hurts so bad right now. like, im gonna die right here,” i groan, hiding my face in the fabric of her hoodie, trying to lock out any stray amounts of light coming from the covered windows. she runs her hand through my hair, and starts to ever-so-gently massage my temples. i sigh in quiet relief, and then she tries to pull me up to lay on top of her.

“uh uh, paige, no,” i say. i try to shake my head at her, but a bolt of pain flies through me, forcing my head back down.

“jus’ tryna help you get comfy, ma,” she whispers, bundling me up in a blanket and pulling me back into her side. she moves her warm hands up and under my t-shirt, but i squirm about, complaining that they’re too cold, even though i’ve never felt anything more soft and warm, so she moves them back over my shirt. but i don’t notice it, not really. and neither does she.

the second time, i know what i did.

“so, what should we order to eat?” paige asks, scrolling on her phone for different options. 

“mm, what if i cooked here, for something different! i can make you a grilled cheese,” i joke, nudging her arm with my shoulder. “that’s all i know how to cook anyway.”

she giggles, standing up with me and following me to the kitchen. she hoists herself onto the counter, and watches me intently as i pull out the things for a sandwich. i grin at her, moving to step in between her legs and take her face in my hands. 

“you’re so cute,” i say, pressing a kiss to her nose. she hops off of the counter and follows me to the stove. paige is just too sweet to me sometimes. i’m cooking dinner for her, the least i can do, really, and she’s cozied up behind me, arms around my waist her hands are barely touching, she can barely fit them around me and her chin is resting softly on my shoulder. she’s pressing light pecks to whatever area she can reach, and i feel at peace, in the kitchen, for a few moments. then it stops.

“why aren’t you making one for yourself baby?” she asks, spinning me around to lean me against the countertop, forgetting her sandwich beside her.

“i’m feeling, um, nauseous,” i stutter, stumbling over the excuse. she lets me go, though she looks skeptical.

“cmon, just have a bite of mine then. baby, you really need to eat more, that’s probably why you haven’t been feeling very well lately.”

i allow her to feed me a small bite, then quickly use my fingers to silently add that to whatever else i ate today. i read somewhere that to lose weight, you need to burn more calories that you eat. tomorrow, i need to burn around 800. Well, 804 now. 

the third time, i think paige noticed something was up.

“ma, this is literally the fourth time you’ve said that you’re cold. just take my fucking hoodie, i’m actually begging you,” she pleads, taking it off and offering it up to me. i shake my head, again, and press myself further into her chest, rubbing my arms to try and make the goosebumps disappear. she pulls me into her, then moves her mouth to my ear.

“is everything okay baby? do you wanna go home?” she whispers, nuzzling my neck with her nose. i shrug, not wanting to make her leave if she wasn’t done chatting with people yet. she makes the decision for me, standing up and tugging me with her. her hand finds its way to the small of my back, and she guides me towards the door. i sway slightly as we stand, blood rushing to my head. i take it as my lack of protein, or anything really, catching up to me. she stops walking, lurching to grab me by both shoulders and bend to eye level with me.

“darling, i want you to be honest with me. what have you eaten today?” i shake my head, feeling my cheeks going red at the thought of her confronting me. i look down, trying to avoid eye contact with her as my eyes fill with tears. she wraps me up into a hug, planting a kiss to the top of my head. she pulls me to the car and helps me in, then climbs into her own door, but makes no move to turn the car on. instead she pulls out her phone and asks me “so, where do you wanna stop and pick up food on our way home?” 

“paige, i’m really not that hungry, just tired and need to be with you in bed for the night. can we please just go home?” 

she nods, but looks at me skeptically out of the corner of her eye. she must know that all i’ve eaten today is half an energy drink and a piece of gum. i’ll eat something with her tomorrow, i guess. we can go out to lunch together and then when she goes to the gym ill go on a run. then she’ll see that im okay.

the fourth time, or probably the fifth or sixth, really, i don’t notice it, so i don’t think she does either.

“cmere pretty,” paige mumbles, reaching her arms out to me from where she’s laying on the bed. i slowly move to lay next to her, but roll away when she tries to take my sweater off.

“hey, baby, what?” she whines, apparently frustrated by the lack of contact.

“i wanna leave it on, paigey,” i tell her, moving my hand into the waistband of her shorts.

“but i wanna see you, please baby,” i don’t like saying no to her, but this is one thing i very rarely back down on.

“uh uh, sorry. lemme taste you, though,” i respond, moving to tug her shorts down.

“nah, come and sit on my face, cutie.” she smirks at her own words, but i’m not laughing. i scramble off the bed, standing up to black spots in my vision. i stand still, squeezing my eyes shut to get rid of the feeling. i stay there for im not sure how long, when i feel strong arms loop around my shoulders and help me onto the bed. paige helps me lay down, placing my head in her lap, then starts to comb through my hair with her fingers. she doesn’t say anything, and i’m grateful for that. obviously, she just thinks im tired. she knows im okay.

this time, im sure she noticed. it would be hard not to.

i’ve just come home from a run to the gym, dripping in sweat. it’s part of my new routine. i jog a mile and a half to the gym, i walk on a stairmaster or inclined treadmill there, then run home. normally i leave when paige leaves for practice, and come home just as she’s getting home, if not a little before so i can shower before she gets here. today, i must’ve done a little too much, because by the time i walk in the door, my head is spinning. i walk into the kitchen, sitting down at the island and resting my head in my hands, trying to clear my vision. i don’t hear when the door opens.

“baby, are you okay?” i hear. i sit up quickly, startled, then put my head back down immediately, because my vision goes nearly dark again.

“mhm, just tired you know? just got back from a run.” 

“you’ve got to take a rest day sometimes, darling,” she coos, taking my face into her hands and pressing a kiss to my nose. i nod, knowing i won’t do it.

sometimes i don’t realize it, but she knows exactly what to do.

i’ve just finished cooking dinner, just some simple spaghetti and a salad. i place her bowl of noodles in front of her, then settle down with my salad. when i stand up to get a glass of water, then come back, i can’t help but notice she’s switched our bowls.

“paigey, could i, possibly, maybe, have my bowl back?” i ask, trying to seem lighthearted.

“oh, yeah, sure,” she answers, sliding it back towards me. but when i try to slide hers back, she stops me. 

“nah, you eat that too. seems like you forgot to serve yourself noodles, so ill go make myself a new bowl.” she stands up, but i scramble in front of the stove quicker, blocking her way. 

“why would you do that, when i made you a whole bowl? eat it,” i tell her, pointing back to the countertop. she lunges at me, lifting me easily and placing me on the countertop. why would she pick me up? she definitely thought i was too heavy. i bet she leaves after this. she drags her my bowl over, twirls a few noodles onto the fork, and begins to prod my mouth with it. 

“cmon honey, just a bite. it’s not like it’s poison, you literally just cooked it,” she presses. i start to shake my head, so she moves the fork and instead swoops in for a kiss. i return her advances eagerly. hoping it distracts her. she moves her head down, pressing open mouthed kisses to my neck, and my mouth falls open. i don’t realize she’s noticed that until she’s setting the forkful of food between my lips and lightly closing them.

���it’s one bite, ma. let’s get it eaten, then you can be done.” i chew, not really having the choice to run and spit it out. once i swallow, she beams at me.

“such a good girl, baby. i’m so proud of you.”

at some point, she wins

“come here now, baby,” paige demands, grasping me by the waist and yanking me in front of her. i’d been about to climb into the shower when she spotted me through the bathroom mirror, stripped down to nothing. she’d grabbed me, pulled me into my room, and positioned us in front of the full-length mirror to the side.

“you see how perfect you are? how pretty?” she mumbles into my ear. i let my eyes flutter shut as she snakes her hand down my body, stopping to circle her finger over my clit. a groan slips out from my lips, and she stops.

“alright, i want you to keep on looking right in the mirror, ma. want you to see how perfectly you take my fingers.” i writhe against her, trying to keep my eyes open and hold myself up at the same time. she plunges three fingers into me. i cry out, locking eyes with her in the mirror, she smirks, the same way she always does when drawing a climax from me. i go boneless. if she hadn’t been holding me so tightly, i would be on the floor.

“now can you see how amazing you are? you don’t gotta change anything about you, i’ll love you no matter what. you should stop listening to what others say, because people that love you, like me, want you, no matter what you look like. i, personally, think you’re perfect. i’ll love you till the day my lungs give out, and even then, i’ll use my last breath to say it again.”

after that, it happens less often. some days, i still forget to eat, and some days even looking at a scale makes me want to throw up. but paige is always there. she’s always there to hold me, or help me eat just a little bit, or to help me lay down and relax after i’ve panicked so hard ive puked into the toilet. one day, looking at her from across the couch, i realize that when she told me she’d love me no matter what, she was telling the truth.

[angel-eyes05]

to leave the warmest bed i've ever known

pairing: spiderwoman!reader x miguel o’hara 

summary: after miguel’s fight with miles, you confront him in his office

warnings: this whole thing is basically one big argument there’s SO much angst, implied suicide attempt, HUGE ATSV SPOILERS DO NOT READ THIS IF YOU HAVEN'T SEEN THIS MOVIE, im projecting a little in some parts of this ngl (i cried writing a certain section of this, you'll know it when you read it lmao), mentions and descriptions of blood, gore, and death

word count:  4.1k

notes: i watched the movie yesterday…and miguel is on my mind. but i remember reading this namor x reader fanfic after i watched wakanda forever of a similar idea to this and i loved it so this is HEAVILY inspired by that fic, but just make it miguel. i would link it but ngl that was so long ago and i dont remember the author. if i end up finding it again ill put it here. also, just pretend miguel has been doing this whole spider society thing for a couple of years at least, it just needs to work like that for this ik its probably not canon but just roll with it lmao. and yes the title is a taylor swift lyric im so glad you noticed (im so sorry she's in my brain rn with the eras tour)

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The anger boiled up inside your chest as you stormed your way across the lobby. Hundreds of different Spider-Man variants were scattered across the area, some more injured than the others. It sickened you sometimes. How he had so many people under his grasp and just decided to throw some of them at the walls sometimes, not caring how hard they hit the floor because they were all just ammo to him. How despite his denials of it, that’s probably what your role was to him as well. Nothing more than a bullet in his massive machine gun.

You normally tried not to think about it, how his determination towards his goal sometimes meant lack of care for others. But this time he had just gone too far. You always had a soft spot for Miles, watching closely on him whenever Miguel would let you go though scanners of all the different variants. You admired his struggle, but eventual success to taking up the previous Peter’s mantle, and always hated how Miguel talked about him. You knew there was no way Miles could’ve asked for any of this. For the pressures and struggles of being a Spider-Man, for everything causing such a strained relationship with his parents, for the death of his uncle, and for what will be the eventual death of his father. You definitely didn’t.

Ok lets do this one last time. Eh, whatever, there’s probably gonna be 50 other introductions after this one so it doesn’t really matter.

Being Earth-837’s Spider-Man has never been easy. Especially since you were bit when you were only 13 (another reason you sympathized with Miles and Gwen). Your life had followed the order of canon events to a perfect T, your older brother killed in a fight with a robber only two months after you were bit. You tried to overcome the burden of your powers by trying to live as normal of a teenage life as possible, but it was mostly in vain, having to give up multiple friendships and relationships in fear of those you love getting hurt. This was only elevated when your boyfriend Peter was murdered in the crossfire of an encounter with Doc Ock. You didn’t understand. You couldn’t. What you had done to deserve all of this. All you did was just be in the wrong place at the wrong time. You wonder sometimes what would happen if someone was in the same place you were when you got bit. If someone else went to the closed down area of that museum and ran into that spider. That stupid spider that ruined your life. Those thoughts slowly started to disappear for a bit. For a few years things were easy. Things seemed like they were finally going in your favor.

You were 25 when it happened. The last canon event. Ever since you were a little girl you hated your mother’s job. Losing nights of sleep over if she would come home or not. She always did though. She was good at her job. Too good though. Good enough to get promoted to police captain, which for who you were, was basically sealing her fate. She saved so many people that day. You were too busy fighting Venom to notice how much collateral damage you were causing in the process. Your mother’s job was to evacuate all the citizens away from the fight. She died shielding a child from incoming debris. A noble way to go. But god was it gruesome. You found her after the fight was over, two metal poles impaling her. One through her stomach and one straight through her face, pools of blood growing bigger below her as she was left there, all the paramedics busy trying to save the heavily injured. You froze when you finally recognized her, unable to at first due to how mutilated her face was from the pole. Suddenly, you were transported back to being a six year old, falling asleep outside the door to your mother’s bedroom so you would know exactly when she would come home. Purposefully falling asleep in her arms so that she couldn’t go anywhere.

When you used the key she had given you to get into her apartment that night, and you slept in her room, desperate to intake anything left of her before she was fully gone. You doused yourself in her perfume so it still felt like she was standing right behind you. You had always loved her smell. The smell of vanilla, curl product, and fancy perfume. They were attached to memories you had of her. Trying on her heels when you were a kid to try and be fancy like her. Smelling her hair in the morning before school to comfort you before she left for work. Despite all of this bringing you comfort, all it really did was cause further denial in your heart. That one day you were gonna hear the keys clacking in the keyhole to your apartment one more time. That’s all you really wanted. You would give everything up in a heartbeat just to hear her police scanner go off one last time. But it wasn’t going to. And it was your fault. Deep down you knew it was. You should’ve done a better job controlling the debris. You had always been a messy fighter, but you didn’t know it was going to mean anything until it was too late. 

How you got up to the top of that building is still a blur to you to this day. But next thing you know, you were looking at the New York City skyline from the very top of the Empire State Building. And at the very edge too. You heard some sounds behind you, but you just decided it was the wind howling from how high up you were. You were just so tired. Everything and everyone you loved was cursed all because of you. And with your mother as the most recent victim, you decided you finally had enough. You took a deep breath, eyes overflowed with water, as you set your foot forward.

Your plummet was interrupted by a sudden contact you felt to your forearm. Shock filled your body as you turned around to look at what had stopped your attempt. The blue hand was massive, nearly wrapping back around onto itself as it held onto you for dear life. You finally looked up at face that the hand belonged to. The mask that covered the massive figure was a strange one. Blue with strange red silhouettes for the eyes. It kind of reminded you of…your own costume? That couldn’t be though there was no way. This must be the afterlife or something. You already jumped and that's why you didn’t remember your way up to the top. This was some kind of creature trying to stop you from jumping down to hell below. His breaths were heavy and loud, almost like he was desperate to stop you. This convinced you that this was real, which caused you to try to escape from his grip. He was stronger than you, and was putting up a huge fight. You were slick though. Once you were out of his hand, you closed your eyes and quickly made your jump. Everything flashed before your eyes. Your brother, Peter, your mom. You were hoping to see them soon. This was very quickly interrupted again when you suddenly stopped falling. Something had attached itself to your stomach. You opened your eyes. A web? This web was much different than yours though. It was glowing a bright, neon orange.

The man was holding onto the end of it tightly with both hands. His mask then disappeared to show his face. His was long, matching how big the rest of his body was, defined cheek bones sticking out. Brown wavy hair slicked back with a few loose strands flying out in the wind. The look of desperation on his face stook out most of all. Why did he care so much? He didn’t know you, and you definitely didn’t know him. “Let me pull you up. Please,” he said to you between shaky pants. You stared at him for a bit before nodding. He slowly pulled you up with the string of his web, each move more careful than the last. As soon as your feet were planted safely back on the roof of the building, he wrapped you up in his massive arms. You appreciated the gesture, but you didn’t return it, still very confused about why he was so concerned. He was so big around your body though, you couldn’t help but feel a little comforted, feeling his still shaky breaths against the hairs of your neck. Soon after, he clicked on some buttons on his neon orange watch and led you into a portal.

The rest is history. You’re grateful he found you that day. It allowed you to meet so many people, Peter B., Jess, Gwen, Hobie, Ben, Pavitr, Margo. They all related to you and you felt like you could share things with them that you couldn’t do with anyone else. You had grown especially close to Peter and Jess, both of them having been in the game for a long time, just like you. They both knew how you felt, having lost so much and growing so tired after so many years. Peter even named you as Mayday’s godmother when she was born, a gesture that caused you to nearly kill him with your hug. Miguel though was different. He wasn’t nearly as social as the rest of your friends, but you found yourself having much more intimate moments with him (in more ways then one). You eventually found out why Miguel was so concerned for you the day you met. He had taken interest in your abilities early into looking for variants for his little “project”, but refrained from roping you into something so dangerous while you were still in your teens.

Once you were old enough though, he started paying more and more attention, hoping to catch you in a fight and recruit you then. But he was always pulled away with more important duties to attend to. That was until he witnessed your canon event. He had seen it happen so many times before through his scanners. It was going to happen. It had to in order for your universe to not collapse in on itself. But for some reason, yours hurt more than the rest to him. Especially how you coped with it. Seeing you wrap yourself up in her blankets and clothes broke his heart. He knew where this would lead to. That’s why he was there that day. To save you. He had to, or he wouldn’t be able to forgive himself. You got your own watch immediately, along with your own room in the Spider Society headquarters. He stayed close with you for the first month of you being a member of the team. When he wasn’t out on missions, he was with you. You didn’t really know what to label you two as, but whatever was going on, you liked it. And he did too.

That is until Miles came into the picture. Once Miles was bit, all hell broke loose for Miguel. He was always in some alternate dimension catching some Spider-Man villain who got out and rangled them back over here, falling back over to you more beat up and bruised than the last time. You couldn’t imagine how much stress he was under, the fate of the entire multiverse up to him. You had some ways of helping him relieve his stress, but you wish you could convince him that he wasn’t alone in this. But nothing ever got through to him. He had become distant, aloof even. You tried bringing it up to Jess every so often, but she would just brush it off.

“That’s how he’s always been.” Not to you he hasn’t. This week has been hell though. With Spot making it over to Miles, Miguel had been going into rages all week. You had put up with it for now, but that was all about to stop. Watching how harsh he was being on Miles, throwing so many Spider-Men at an innocent boy, risking all of their lives in the process. Disregarding everything Gwen and Peter were feeling and then throwing Gwen back into her broken world with nothing. He had gone too far. No one else was going to stand up to him about it, so you knew it had to be you. Maybe he would listen, maybe he wouldn’t. It didn’t really matter. He just needed to hear it.

“It’s not worth it you know.” The voice snapped you out of your thoughts, stopping you in your tracks. “You know how stubborn he gets over these things,” said Jess, trying to convince you to save your breath. “I don’t care. I have to at least try,” you responded, monotonically. “I just don’t understand how you can follow him so blindly and not see what he’s doing is wrong.” “Because he isn’t wrong. I don’t know about you, but I’m not just gonna stand by and let some kid’s stupid decisions destroy another Earth,” Jess argued. “He’s just trying to save his dad, I can’t understand how that makes him such a bad person,” you said, finally turning around to face her, shocked when she was closer to you than expected.

“You know exactly why. Don’t be so naive, y/n,” she shot back. “You can’t stop me,” you said staring straight into her. She shrugged. “Then I can’t help you.” She began to walk away. You did to, until you heard her say. “You don’t know how much he cares for you.” You turned around to face her again, but her back was still to you, her head tilted ever so slightly to look at you. “If you really do care for the kid, watch what you say to Miguel right now. Cause you might just give him the final push he needs to do what needs to be done.” You didn’t give her a response, and just simply kept walking. You felt Jess’ eyes on your back as you entered the elevator to get up to Miguel’s office.

The elevator ride up felt longer than it should’ve, as you tried to gather all of your thoughts and emotions together so even if he didn’t listen, your words would still stick with him in some way. You didn’t necessarily want to hurt him (though your fists were telling you otherwise), but you did want him to be aware of what he’s done. Once the doors finally opened, all of that work flew out the window as rage took over your body again, seeing Miguel up there looking at the scanners. The fact that he looked just as normal as he always does made you furious. It’s like nothing happened.

“You know, I could hear you coming in from the lobby,” he said, almost stopping you in your tracks. You hated when he did that. Claiming that he knew what your every move was going to be. Like you were under his control or something. “Yeah, well then you must’ve heard me talking to Jess, which means you know exactly what this is about,” you shot back, stopping to where you could see him perched up there. “Why don’t you just save me the conversation about morality and just come up here and kick my ass already. It’ll save both of us time,” he said, not even taking his eyes off the scanners to look down at you. This only added to your fury. “That’s not what I’m here for Miguel, so don’t you dare try to twist my words here. What you did to that kid was fucked up and you know it.” “Oh yeah, then why didn’t you try to do anything to stop me?” he questioned.

“Because I’m not stupid Miguel. I’m not gonna try to take down hundreds of Spider-Men at once.” “Oh, cause you’re so much better than that?” This wasn’t like him at all. That gentle, kind, and caring Miguel you once knew was gone, taken over by some sort of personal vendetta he had against Miles. “Listen, I don’t know what’s going on with you, but this all needs to stop before it gets taken too far. You’re getting into a fight you can’t win. That kid’s strong and so are his allies. And if you go any further into this, I won’t be here to help you.” He stayed still and only turned his head to look at you. “And what makes you think that you’re so important to my plan that it’ll fall apart if you leave? Have you really become that pretentious?”

Your body froze. Have I really? No no no, that’s exactly what he wants. If you begin to doubt yourself now, you’ll stay and nothing will change. You knew you were right. He was trying to crumble you down, but you wouldn’t let that happen. “And you really think that one kid is going to ruin something that you’ve been working for for years? How insecure you’ve become.” “You have no idea what you’re talking about,” he said, turning back away from you. You did the same, wiping off your face in anger. “I hate it when you do tha-,” you said as you turned back around, but were cut off to find Miguel standing there right in front of you. He was close. Too close to your liking, although in any other circumstance you would’ve found this attractive.

He tilted his head up, but his eyes were down staring daggers into yours. You hated how much he tried to make himself seem more superior to you. “You have no idea what you’re talking about,” he repeated, this time slower as if you were a child. “He’s just a kid Miguel,” you said in a low, quiet voice. “An anomaly. And a dangerous one at that.” “God Miguel, all he wants to do is protect his dad, do you know how insane you sound right now?” you said letting out a slight laugh when you finished. You backed away from him a little. “He doesn’t know how much damage he’ll do with this. Saving his father will only prolong the inevitable. His world will be gone within hours if he does this. All I’m trying to do is make him understand,” he tried to explain. “By trying to kill him.” “You always have to exaggerate the situation,” he said palming his face. “But that’s essentially what you’re trying to do isn’t it? Why not snuff out the problem entirely by taking him out!”

He signed and began to walk away while you were talking, bringing up your anger even more. “Yeah, use all the power you’ve accumulated over the years and just take out the small problem! Except this isn’t just a fly on the wall Miguel. This is a child! An innocent boy who didn’t ask for any of this to happen to him, just like how we didn’t. I get it, I’m sorry that this job is stressful, I really am. But that gives you zero right to act the way you are!” You were screaming at him at this point. You didn’t want to. You didn’t want your emotions to get the best of you. But he was being too stubborn. This was the only way you thought you could get to him. You might not have wanted to, but you needed to hurt him now. It was the only way.

“You can’t be so power blind that you refused to accept the fact that there could be a way around Captain Davis’ death. You said we saved Earth’s before, I’m sure we could do it again.” Your anger only kept rising when he kept walking away and didn’t respond. “This is a personal thing isn’t it?” you asked calmly. You knew it was working now when he stopped walking. “Yeah, it it. You won’t let Miles get his happy ending. Because why should he be pardoned of his burden while the rest of us have suffered so much. While you’ve suffered so much.” The answer to your question was confirmed when Miguel stayed silent. “Just because you didn’t get the life you wanted Miguel, doesn’t mean you have the right to stop other people from getting theirs.”

You knew you overstepped the line when Miguel turned around and started walking towards you, fury burning in his crimson eyes. “Yeah, so what! What if that is what this is all about! You should know better than anyone how much this job takes away from you!” he screamed at you, backing you up into a wall. “Why should he get to be let off so easily, while people like you and me have to suffer so much? Don’t try to turn me into the villain here when I know you’re thinking the exact same thing, y/n.” He wasn’t entirely wrong. You had wondered it at some points. “I won’t let you turn this onto me Miguel, this is about you,” you fired back. “Oh no, you’re not getting off that easily. I know you’re thinking it. And you’re right. Why should Miles get let off so easily when you’ve lost so much.” He held your hands in his, trying to connect to you. “And you have mi vida. You’ve had so much taken from you and it’s unfair. Why should he only have lost one person when you’ve had three taken from you. Your brother, Peter, your moth-.”

He was cut off by your hand striking against his face in a harsh blow. “If you’re smart, and I know you are, you’ll keep those three out of them. I won’t let you drag their names through the dirt for something as stupid as this.” You both stood there for a while, both of your eyes looking towards the ground, hoping it would open up to swallow you both as an escape from this god awful conversation. You never wanted it to come to this. In all honesty, you cared for Miguel. You might’ve even loved him, if you were even capable of doing such a thing. You hoped he felt the same way about you, but in a job like this, he always had at least one wall up around you. It just wasn’t worth it anymore. You were too tired to keep trying for something that was most likely going to fall apart in the end. 

“You’re still going after him aren’t you?” you asked, finally breaking the silence. Miguel looked back up at you. “You can’t ask me not to. You know better than anyone why this is so important to me.” He moved his hand up to cup your cheek and kissed your forehead gently. You let it sit there for a minute out of habit before pushing it off your face. “And you must know why I can’t stay anymore then.” His shoulders dropped. “Whatever this thing between us is. It’s over. I can’t stay beside someone who can’t see what he’s doing is wrong.” Miguel’s dropped hand turned into a fist of anger. “Fine,” he spat in your face. “I don’t need someone like you in my way. You’re just a liability to this anyways.” He began to walk away from you back to his scanners. “Just don’t come crying back over to me when your little plan doesn’t work out, cause I won’t help you.” He used his webs to pull himself back up to the platform to keep looking for Miles. You stood there for a second, gathering yourself.

Five years. Out the door just like that. It bewildered you how easily a bond like you two had could be broken all because of one teenager. You began to make your way for the door before you said. “When this is all over…don’t try to find me.” He didn’t respond. Once the elevator doors opened, you rushed inside, desperate to get away from him. So many thoughts rushed through your head as the doors closed and you sunk down back to the lobby to leave. You didn’t have much of a plan. This could end up being a horrible idea. Your gut told you it was the right thing to do though. And that was enough for you. You walked out of the headquarters lobby with a new heart and a new mind, ready to take action for your new plan.

First though, you had to find Gwen.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

a/n: god that took longer than it should've. dw dw i'll do a part 2 if enough people ask for one. im not 100% sure how im gonna do a part 2 cause yk....idk how beyond the spiderverse is gonna go so tbh, we're just gonna make it go the way i want lmao. thanks for reading, ik this was kind of a long one lmao

NEXT CHAPTER

[love-belle]

take a look at my girlfriend !!!

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ in which she's everything and he's just her proud boyfriend.

or

for when they're your everything. ˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚

social media au // lando norris x fem!reader

warnings - language

author's note - when i said i was back on my writing grind i MEANT it

≡;- ꒰ °instagram ꒱

liked by carlossainz55, landonorris, lukehemmings and 682,826 others

yourusername his cringe behaviour has me captivated

5,987 comments

username MOTHER?????

username not my wife trying to soft launch man what is this

username THE LAST SLIDE??????? HELLO??????? WHAT THE FUCK

username im.

username the first photo i died y'all

-> username she can break me in half and i'll thank her js saying

francisca.cgomes the first photo, i am looking (respectfully)

-> yourusername it's there only for u bébé

username SHE'S SO ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

username rockstar gf

username i want her sooooooo bad

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lukehemmings tell your bf to stop spamming us, we CANNOT give him a private concert at 4 in the morning

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-> lukehemmings basic bitch

-> landonorris WOAH OKAY

*comment deleted*

username lando in the likes i see u pineapple boy

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landonorris nah i think he's kinda cool

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username thinking thots rn

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≡;- ꒰ °instagram ꒱

liked by yourusername, pierregasly, carmenmmundt and 796,451 others

landonorris my girl my girl my girl

7,982 comments

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username i simply refuse to accept that im losing both of my parasocial relationships

carlossainz55 trust us, we KNOW

-> landonorris you're gonna continue to do so :D

-> username lando using ":D" WHO GOT HIM LIKE THAT

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username if that's y/n then im giving up :)

charles_leclerc i want that cat

-> landonorris it's yours i hate that demon

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username lando norizz is proving to be kinda wrong here haha

username i just know he's down BAD for her

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-> landonorris unfollow me NOW

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yourusername need to adopt that cat asap

-> landonorris that's not a cat, that's whatever was let out of pandora's box

-> yourusername boy i will block u

-> username NOT Y/N ACTING LIKE THAT'S NOT HER CAT

-> username honestly give up y'all we KNOW

≡;- ꒰ °instagram stories ꒱

landonorris added to their instagram stories

≡;- ꒰ °instagram ꒱

liked by lewishamilton, carmenmmundt, landonorris and 778,427 others

yourusername an idiot but i love this idiot

tagged landonorris

6,927 comments

username I FUCKING KNEW OMG

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username "men r bad men are nasty but this one is ok" she's so real for this

-> username my queen spoke nothing but facts

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lilymhe an idiot (derogatory)

-> yourusername an idiot (affectionate)

-> landonorris how about you both stop calling me an idiot??? how's that???

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username lando norris i am in your walls

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username this is so chaotic and im here for every minute of it

username FUCK YEAH SOFT LAUNCHES ARE OVERRATED ANYWAYS

danielricciardo you should've seen the look of panic on his face, truly a sight to behold

-> yourusername his 2628182837 texts saying "i done fucked up" kinda gave me an idea

username < them 3

username do y'all need a dog??? i can bark

usernames SOMEONE GET ME A BF RN ISTG

carmenmmundt cutest 🤍

*liked by yourusername*

username lando ur catching these hands

username need to pray to whichever god lando prayed to 🙏🙏🙏🙏🙏

username im LIVING for the lando content we're being fed rn

landonorris me and the bitch i pulled by being mean to her

-> yourusername what did u say

-> landonorris me and my very amazing beautiful ethereal breathtaking hot angelic gorgeous pretty cute adorable gf whom i love and respect very much ☺️❤️

landonorris i loveeeeeee u

-> landonorris please take the demon child, i mean marshmallow, away from me

-> yourusername no ❤️

-> yourusername (i love u)

username im gonna cry what the fuck i need this kinda love

username HSHDJAKSHDHAKKASJJSHSA

-> landonorris same

username love to see lando grovelling ❤️

≡;- ꒰ °instagram ꒱

liked by yourusername, lilymhe, charles_leclerc and 897,627 others

landonorris take a look at my girlfriend!!!!!!!!!!!!! (❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️)

tagged yourusername

8,926 comments

username PLEASE I WANT HER SO BAD

username just one chance y/n i swear

username don't be shy lando fuck off go on do it

username came here for lando stayed for y/n 💪💪💪

username love a man who's just pathetic little baby girl and his gf who's EVERYTHING

*liked by yourusername*

-> username THIS.

username THE QUOTE OH MUCHOD

username HOW did u pull her

-> username this is MY generation's bermuda triangle

-> username LMFAOOOOO

username lando norizz but he actually pulled 🙏🙏🙏

-> username this revelation needs to be scientifically studied

username i love how half the comments section is thirsting for y/n and the other half is just straight up bullying lando

charles_leclerc we beg you, stop it we KNOW

-> landonorris no

username nah bc the grid being sick of him being in love is sending me 💀💀💀💀💀

username SHE'S SO ETHEREAL

username i love her sm

username lando just so u know *our girlfriend

username IM GOING FERAL OVER THIS OMGAIHAAJK

username goodnight.

lilymhe MY girlfriend but alright

-> francisca.cgomes real like he's forgetting something

-> carmenmmundt honestly

-> alexandrasaintmleux i know like *our* girlfriend

-> yourusername my loves 😘😘😘

-> landonorris wow..

username they're so ☹️☹️☹️☹️☹️☹️☹️

username someone find me someone like this i beg

username need to know how they met bc they couldn't be more opposites 💀💀💀💀

lewishamilton so happy for you mate 💜!!

*liked by landonorris*

username on my knees for this woman and for this woman only

username just one chance pls 🙏🙏🙏🙏🙏

username i see how kind god has been to others

yourusername i better be the only one u got

-> landonorris take a look at my girlfriend she's the only i got

-> yourusername that's better ☺️

yourusername love u loverboy

-> landonorris who

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-> landonorris 😘😘😘😘😘😘😘☺️☺️☺️☺️☺️☺️☺️☺️🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰😍😍😍😍😍😍😍😍❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

-> danielricciardo oh no he's lagging again

-> yourusername just give him a min

username IM SO NORMAL ABT THEM I SWEAR I AM

username sliding down the wall fr cannot believe he bagged my wife

username wow.

[ma1dita]

crazy little thing

a ‘partners in crime’ installment - luke castellan x dionysus!reader

words: 3.4k

summary: (pre-established relationship) The one where he spends all his drachmas to make you smile. Sometimes, the Apollo kids are better matchmakers than Aphrodite herself. Everyone’s tired of you two dancing around each other. Luke Castellan x fem!Dionysus!reader

a/n: lil valentines day special though im working on more est. relationship fluff after this!! happy season 2 renewal babies

(posted 2/9/24 unbetaed)

—

“Come on, you gotta admit—it’s kinda funny!” 

Luke is met with blank stares at the camp store after he places a few drachmas onto the folding table in front of the Apollo kids. They’re not sure if he’s trying to convince them, or himself.

Because yeah, that’s the excuse he goes for, wanting to spend his savings on having them sing to a certain head counselor instead of admitting his blatantly obvious feelings, so if you ask Lee Fletcher and his half-siblings, it’s kind of pathetic.

“What do we look like, a traveling mariachi band, Castellan?” he deadpans, watching the usually confident boy scratch the back of his neck with his face red like someone who’s been sitting out in the sun for too long. 

“I’m not saying to follow her around all day or whatever, just pick a random time to sing a song and catch her off-guard,” he insists, before meeting the judgmental look of one of Lee’s younger siblings.

Lee chuckles, ruffling his sister’s hair before looking at Luke quite seriously, “She’s a good friend. You’re gonna have to pay us more than that. Special song for a special lady after all.”

The son of Hermes knows he’s gonna regret this sooner or later, but proceeds to throw the rest of his meager earnings onto the table. He has other ways of being resourceful anyway, the box of chocolates he nicked from behind the store counter feeling heavy in his jacket pocket.

“Right… she’s just a friend.”

Luke’s hands fidget at his sides as he stands there, feeling a little stupid.

Lee’s little sister scoops up the coins from the table, her raised eyebrows and light aura mirroring that of her older brother. 

“What song were you thinking?” she asks, “Gotta make sure I know it if I’m singing it to your…friend.”

The 18-year-old boy tugs at his dark curls, getting more embarrassed and wanting to retreat with every minute that passes, but he’s never been one to back down from anything–swordfights, monsters, capture the flag, but this—trying to impress you...is a whole different story somehow.

Why are feelings so damn complicated? 

It feels like being at the butt of a joke, or more accurately—at the sharp edge of a sword, and Luke never lets his fights end in a draw.

“You guys got it covered. Just…surprise me too, I guess,” he sighs, walking off without finishing his sentence. He wishes he could pray a little harder to his dad for luck, even if he’s unsure of what exactly he’s wishing for (or if his dad will even listen).

“Castellan’s hopeless. You think he knows it yet?” the girl asks her brother, to which Lee laughs.

“I don’t think she does either, even though everyone else can see right through them. The new bets are on who’s gonna break first. Chiron’s been keeping track, but don’t tell Mr. D.”

If Luke wants a show, they’ll make sure he’ll get his money’s worth—and hopefully, it’ll push you two along faster. Lee bet on you two getting together before the summer after all, and he’ll be damned if he loses to Clarisse.

—

Valentine’s Day might be the day of love, but for you, someone who’s single (not by choice), and heavily busy with making sure people aren’t so…enamored in public (you’ve lost count of the reports you’ve written out due to indecent behavior this morning alone)---this just feels like another Wednesday, except with more hormonal teenagers with uncontrollable urges than usual. 

Oh, the joys of being the daughter of the camp director, also known as everyone’s favorite narc.

Honestly, love can suck it. With this much love in the air, you can feel it suffocating you like a plastic bag over your head. 

That’s an uncontrollable urge. Too much?

Maybe Silena was right, you do need to open yourself up more to romantic opportunities. But if you have to watch another person swap spit and get pawed at like they’re the last dinner roll at the table…. You might commit arson and set this place ablaze.

You just didn’t understand why people had to go all out today of all days. Shouldn’t love be shown year-round? Though you were a person of theatrics and enjoy a good show, it is amazing how much grandiose displays of affection make you cringe. It felt very performative, instead of genuine, and you would know, you’re the best actress at camp. You’ve acted out stories before, knowing all of the greatest romances and tragedies by heart. And you pride yourself on being a decent teacher to the campers, but for some of them, love still translates to a bad rendition of a ballad they heard on the radio.

Nothing gets past you at this point.

But that sucks too sometimes, you know?

Multiple failed flings and a heartbreak or two weigh down on you on days like this one, as you’re stuck being a bystander to outlandish displays put on by the Aphrodite kids being put to work. Love is their domain anyway, and yours…makes you feel a little less undesirable. Each demigod has their own strengths and weaknesses, but perhaps in the name of love, some of them don’t know how to take a hint. Several forgettable prose readings, a Sparknotes version of Eros and Psyche, and too many red roses to count have you reeling from exhaustion and a bit of disgust—-and it’s only lunchtime. 

So yeah, maybe you’re a little jealous; they could call you Nemesis at this point.

The only flowers you got today were from the little kids from along the path to the strawberry orchard, and though it’s sweet—the human side of you misses affection. 

Devotion. 

To be a daughter of Dionysus meant to deal in extremes, obsession or nothing, and there are very few people who can handle that. Always being too much to handle, or uninterested as a defense mechanism. Perhaps that’s what scares admirers away. 

That, or the fact that Luke Castellan is always attached to your hip. To be honest, you’ve always preferred it that way—the both of you working as a pair always gets things done faster around camp and he brightens your mood, whether you admit it or not. 

But you two are just friends. 

Really good friends who look for each other in crowded rooms, hands constantly brushing against the other for comfort, and able to pick up where the other one leaves off. Usually he’s the first person you see in the morning, and the last person you say goodnight to. You know how he likes his coffee and he cuts your apples for you as you two sit together in your unassigned seats in the dining pavilion. You watch each other’s workshops and if one of you is missing, everyone knows to ask the other to get an answer.

Right? That’s totally normal coworker/friend behavior.

If you were ever given immortality, perhaps they’d make you the goddess of denial.

You’re sweeping up confetti from the dining hall floor after an uncoordinated excuse of a flash mob was performed for one of the Demeter kids… and not to sound like a heinous bitch, but maybe next time they should use something biodegradable… or less messy. Sighing deeply, you feel someone’s eyes on you, and when you look up, Luke’s standing there with two full plates of food.

“Take a break, Trouble. No one’s paying you overtime,” he jokes, and you roll your eyes as you put the broom aside.

“No one’s paying me at all…” you groan, before taking the plate out of his hands and knocking your head against his shoulder in thanks. He snickers as his hand brushes the small of your back, tickling your spine as he leads you to sit at a table.

“Just another holiday. You know how it is.”

“It’d be nice to have a night off though. Sometimes I regret taking up the position,” you mumble through spoonfuls of soup. He throws his large hand over your shoulder, kneading some tension from your trapezius. Head jerking along with the movements, you giggle as soup dribbles off your spoon, which makes his lips quirk into a small smile. Being around you felt so thoughtless and easy that if you told him to jump off a bridge he’d do it without question, which should be more concerning—the hold you have on him is irrevocable. Feelings are way too difficult for his teenage brain to comprehend at this stage. It’s easier to wash dishes with lava or fight off a dragon (bad example, he knows, but there’s something about you that already makes him feel like he’s losing before anything’s even happened).

Luke is someone who fights until the end, a soldier who’s always trained and so ready for anything that sometimes it makes you wonder what war he’s preparing for. Infatuation, or the scarier, four-letter word was not something he was ever briefed on.

“No, you don’t. You’re a control freak,” he says with a grin. 

Luke watches you play with the pendant on your necklace, the dragon scale he fashioned into your favorite accessory glinting in your hand. Running your fingers back and forth over the smooth surface, your other hand puts the spoon down and you place your head on his shoulder. He thinks if he had to describe the four-letter word on the tip of his tongue, he’d tell whoever’s asking about the way you kissed his healing cheek after you both left the Garden of Hesperides. More than a year later, Luke is still unable to find the right words even if the weakness has made a home in his heart with your name written all over it.

“I swear if I have to hear another person croak out a lovesong I might just drown myself in the Long Island Sound,” you scoff as his fingers trace circles onto your waist.

There’s a low strum of a guitar that reaches your ears and your forehead meets the cool surface of the table as you shut your eyes and grumble. It’s Lee and his half-siblings, beginning to walk through the hall seconds away from singing until they see Luke shaking his head and dragging his finger across his throat to please, gods, stop. The Apollo kids swivel and 180, walking out of the hall as the music stops dissonantly, rolling their eyes and dragging their feet.

“That was quick,” you say inquisitively as your head pops up from the table to see Luke looking off in the distance.

“Heh… I think they were just practicing or something…”

He then had to run off and pay them more drachmas for the inconvenience. 

Fucking hustlers.

—

The sun sets quickly on Camp Half-Blood since it’s mid-February, and Luke finds you trying to calm your nerves as you look at the mess of glitter and paper mache that covers the arts and crafts hall from floor to ceiling.

“I can’t believe this!” you say in disbelief as you look at Luke, and he takes the can of Redbull out of your shaking hand.  

“There’s just no fucking way everyone decided to use glitter. It’s everywhere! I’m—CONNOR, PUT THE SCISSORS DOWN!”

Luke sighs as he holds his hand out for his younger brother to give up the craft scissors, which he relinquishes with a mischievous grin. 

“Guys, go find trouble somewhere else,” Luke mutters, pushing his head away, and where Connor goes, Travis quickly follows, tossing a canister of glitter back at him and not knowing it was still open.

“Oops.” 

Immediately, the both of you are showered in iridescent particles, floating over your heads and stuck in your hair as the older Stoll brother looks at the two of you wide-eyed.

“You've already got Trouble anyway,” he says teasingly, and this asshole winks at Luke before bolting out the door.

The room is silent now, and you pinch the bridge of your nose, before speaking, “I don’t care if he’s your brother, Luke. I might just fucking kill him.” You'd say more but your eyes are shut as you try not to breathe in glitter, and then the sound of the doorknob rattling catches your attention. Luke is standing there, finally faced with a door he can’t open, his eyebrows furrowed in annoyance–but the effect isn’t as menacing as it should be when he’s covered in red and pink sparkles.

“Not if I get to him first, the little bastard.”

“Just open the door,” you say panicked, running over and forcing his hands off the doorknob.

“I can’t if you won’t let me do it!” He grits, elbowing you and trying to unlock the door with both his inherited gift and brute strength.

“What kind of demigod even are you? Lockpicking is supposed to be your thing!”

“Well OBVIOUSLY, but it’s not working, now is it, Trouble?”

Luke finishes off the rest of your energy drink before throwing the can over his shoulder and he swears he can hear you cuss at him under your breath as you berate him about the mess, so he chooses to focus on busting the door down instead of looking at the glitter stuck in your eyelashes and thinking about how the idea of being stuck in a room with you makes him feel weak at the knees.

Through the window, his eyes meet the group of Apollo kids staring at the predicament you two are in (and the barricade of chairs the Stolls put in front of the door). He sighs, and Lee’s little sister flips him off as they start to walk away again, instruments in tow.

“You gonna charge him again?”

A tiny Will Solace looks at his elders for guidance as they walk along the path. As one of the youngest in the bunch, he especially idolizes anything his half-siblings do, going along with whatever they see fit.

“No, but we’re close enough to the archery range that I might just shoot them through their hearts myself. Eros and Aphrodite themselves are pretty much begging us to,” Lee grumbles.

“Why are we doing this again?” Will babbles, and his half-sister grabs his hand to help him walk faster.

“A crazy little thing called love. You’ll understand it better someday, kid.”

—

Thankfully, it all starts winding down after dinner. Luke finds you leaning against a tree flipping through your clipboard during the camp sing-along, so he tugs at your elbow to get your attention.

“Wanna get out of here?”

You look at him, slotting your pen behind your ear as you notice faint glitter particles still dotted along his cheeks. As your lips pull into a small smile, you say, "I still have a few things to do after this, don't you?"

"Cleared your schedule for the night," he mumbles, and whether it's the glow of the bonfire or he's actually blushing, a teasing expression crosses your face as you step closer and cross your arms at him.

"You cleared my schedule for the night. How on earth did you do that?"

Instead of a proper reply, he grabs your hand, tugging you out to the docks near the lake.

"Don't worry about it."

He's not going to tell you that he owes Chris and Annie a few favors before the end of the month to make up for the night shift they ended up taking. Instead, you both sit cross-legged at the edge of the dock, a gentle breeze brushing at your clothes and for the first time today, you're able to just exist.

"I hate Valentine's Day," you suddenly say, looking up at the night sky, and he's watching you closely as the gentle shine of the moon casts a cool glow on your face. Luke cringes at your statement, thinking he's already thrown away his shot.

"Why's that?"

"Tell me something Luke, am I unlikable? Like, is there anything wrong with me?"

He looks at you like you've told him you’re secretly a cyclops.

“The fuck? How many times do I have to tell you that everyone thinks you’re great?"

You don't even give him a chance to finish his sentence before you blurt, "I don’t want to be great, I want to be loved!" Reeling back a little, you lean back on your hands to create some distance.

 “Sorry... that was a lot, and I’m just...wanting to be noticed. It's nice to have people's attention sometimes, you know?”

You’ve got all of mine, he thinks, realizing he never stood a chance at fighting it—this four-letter feeling you give him is the first and only battle he’ll back down from, and you're the only person he’ll wholeheartedly surrender to.

In short, he’s fucked.

"I always notice you." He pulls out a dented box of chocolates from his jacket pocket, opening it up for the both of you to share, and the look of amusement on your face makes him glad that at least one thing somewhat went to plan today, even if the chocolate truffles are a bit smushed. You’re popping one into your mouth and his dark eyes follow the trail of your fingers to your mouth, feeling his heart beat a bit faster.

But then you both hear the soft strum of a guitar from near the trees, and the two of you turn to hear some of the Apollo kids singing beautifully along the coastline.

I'll be seeing you, in all the old, familiar places... That this heart of mine embraces...

You gasp, grabbing Luke’s arm to push yourself up so that the both of you can turn and face a small group of your closest Apollo friends singing to the both of you. Luke’s eyes soften further when he feels you grab his hand and squeeze, leaning against his shoulder as you listen.

“Did you do this?” you mumble, still entranced by the performance.

“Only if it makes you laugh.”

And you do, in the way that he loves—a bit crazy and too loud, and it’s perfect.

I’ll always think of you that way… I’ll find you in the morning sun….

Whether it’s fireflies or Will bouncing light off the water to look like small, glowing candles, Luke can’t tell—he’s too busy watching your lips pull into a smile so confectionery his sweet tooth starts to ache. The little kid was never good at archery like his other half-siblings, but as your eyes shimmer under the ambient lights, you think his added romantic gesture shot you straight through the heart.

“You know, sometimes I really do hate you, Luke Castellan,” you whisper, and it couldn’t be more far from the truth.

“No, you don’t.”

His eyes flicker to you again, but you’re already looking back at him.

“I don’t.”

And when the night is new, I’ll be looking at the moon… but I’ll be seeing you…

It’s quiet now, and you’re unsure of where the Apollonian ensemble disappeared to but instead of worrying about if they’ll make it back before curfew, you stand there in front of Luke with your guard down.

Getting a little closer than he expected, your noses brush before you pull the slightly crushed wildflowers from your jean pocket, the only physical reminder you’ve kept from today, and tuck them into his jacket pocket, sitting right above his heart. 

“Thank you.”

Luke doesn’t realize he’s holding his breath until he feels your lips gently kiss the marred skin on his right cheek, the blemish having an uncanny resemblance to a stroke of lightning; it serves as a reminder of his weakness. The lines blur as his eyes close to savor it and he doesn’t know if weakness is your kisses or his scar—but he is vulnerable to it all the same, realizing there’s a crack in the otherwise perfect persona that he’s worked so hard on.

When his eyes open again, his Achilles’ heel has taken human form.

—

“This has got to be cheating,” Clarisse grumbles as she watches from the distance, hidden behind the trees.

“It’s not cheating if I’m winning. Silena’s gonna get a kick out of this,” Lee chuckles, ushering everyone back towards the cabins. It’s a bit harder to do this in the dark as they try to be quiet and not interrupt whatever will happen next between their favorite counselors.

“Well lucky for you, your gifts are cute and romantic, what am I supposed to do? They fight enough!”

“That’s what got them into this mess in the first place. Come on, curfew’s in 10. We’ll find out which of us wins the bet soon enough,” Chris mutters, pushing them along back onto the main path.

“Easy for you to say, Rodriguez, you live with Luke!”

“Would I ever lie to you, La Rue?” he says with a mischievous grin, and the Apollo kids giggle at the irony.

—

“My body ages,

my anger burns into a seam.

I am so annoyed by love

and still it comes.”

-Kate Baer

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[snekdood]

i wonder if i k****d myself if all the ppl who’ve ever lied about me, altering peoples perception of me and making them avoid me, start to breakdown and let out the fact that they were lying the whole time.

i wonder why only then they would allow me that relief, and how that doesn’t make them an awful person for not telling the truth while actively ruining someones life for no fucking reason other than the lolz.