#He’s not really dumb he’s just sixteen and impulsive | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

kitkatopinions · 3 years ago

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Out of curiositu. What's wrong with Port, robyn and hazel? I do know that you hate coco because of her relation to nazism and you don't like her character overall but what is with remainning three?

I have some silly/not very valid reasons to dislike the characters, but some reasons that I think are pretty valid.

Lots of anti-Port, anti-Robyn, and anti-Hazel under the keep reading.

Peter Port His design looks dumb to me. His moustache is even worse than Jacques' and Watts' moustaches, his outfit is lame, and his weapon is even worse. His Chibi appearances? Never funny once. His voice acting? Cringe. Out of all three of the men written by toxic-masculine men to laugh their heads off at having ‘tricked a man who didn’t know any better into wearing something traditionally feminine - and therefore seen by them as embarrassing - so everyone could laugh at him for doing something that wasn’t gender conforming,’ Port is the only one who never got much depth to his character, and therefore this is harder for me to just headcanon out of here. The dude literally like, leered at Yang when she was underage? Like he was like "Huntsman" and then he makes a face and like, lowers his voice and looks at Yang and is like "HUnTrEssEssss" and then clicked his tongue in that flirty way, and Yang looked visibly uncomfortable and annoyed and gave a forced and very awkward chuckle (I’ve been there.) And I've heard people be like "no, he wasn't flirting, he was just teasing, see Yang laughed." But that's purposefully pretending to not get it. If any man talked to any woman he didn't know like that, I'd consider him mega creepy and gross, let alone a man older than Yang's father, when she was either sixteen or seventeen, doing it in class!

Robyn Hill I also hate her design. I don't know what's up with her hair. Kudos to the writers for designing a woman that doesn't look like a teenager, but there is too much going on with her outfit, I hate it, and also it's so dull. She ate up tons of screen time with Qrow, whatever friendship they had felt forced, and for someone who really had been looking forward to seeing Qrow interact with other characters he already had some level of connection with like Ironwood and Winter, this was personally annoying. Like Clover, she annoyed me because I was waiting for things I cared about and instead got them. XD Robyn was a somewhat late addition, originally her role was as a cheesy mayor (literally they called her "Mayor McCheese") and later on they made her role bigger and different. I think it's easy to tell that she was a late addition, her character doesn't seem super fleshed out, and she doesn't have a very good role imo probably because it was thrown together. The role that she does have in volume seven wound up being centered around opposing people. Since I was a fan of Ironwood and he was one of the people she opposed, this made me biased from the start the same way that when Ironwood first came in during volume two, I was biased against him for going against Ozpin. However, Ironwood wound up not really working against Ozpin, never did anything worse than informed the Council of events and being assigned as the head of security for an event, and wound up openly trusted by the Inner Circle by the end of his second season. Robyn never wound up able to co-exist with James. Her role in volume 8 was literally just playing support to Qrow, who got benched the whole season as it was. She started the whole plane fight despite Clover and Qrow both being willing to talk about solutions and figure things out. Robyn seems very hotheaded and rash, which alone doesn't make for a bad character, but in a story where I'm already wishing that less people relied on anger and impulse and would actually talk things out and compromise, she's just all that more frustrating. Yang and Blake trust her for no real reason, just because the writers wanted people in Team RWBY to ‘display trust,’ but they were also writing for all of them to continually lie to and show mistrust to James already. On top of that, we as an audience never see Robyn do anything with the supplies that she steals. I could talk more about this point in another post, but not seeing anything done with these supplies makes her efforts look ineffective and unnecessary, and it makes it all the more frustrating that the same people who act accusatory to Ironwood at the end of volume seven because Amity isn’t finished yet have absolutely zero problem with the person who was causing the delay. Robyn has the problem of only being a character during the height of my frustrations with the series. She acts as a mouthpiece for whatever the writers want the audience to think, she carries the hivemind group think of most of the 'good' mains, she tells us how terrible Clover actually was and how much better Qrow is after Clover's death despite the fact that she doesn't know the guy and was arguably partially responsible for his death by starting the whole plane fight... A lot of characters are the same way. But they have the benefit of having existed outside of the Atlas arc. Ruby was arguably three times as frustrating in the last two seasons than Robyn was, but I remember when I liked her. With Robyn, all I have is some of the most frustrating and worst written moments in the history of the show. This is the big one for me - She called Marrow Wags. She doesn't know him. She threw his status as a Faunus and her doing the bare minimum of not being Jacques Schnee in his face and then called him Wags. If the writers hadn't ever dipped their toes in their dreadfully done fake-Racism story, this wouldn't be a problem. But it is, and it seems wildly inappropriate and insensitive for her to nickname a Faunus by their Faunus trait, especially one she doesn't know. It was horrible and clearly offensive when Roman Torchwick called Blake 'Kitty,' but we're supposed to be one hundred percent on board with and never blink our eyes at a politician running a "I'm not that bad guy" campaign that calls Faunus offensive nicknames? Yeah, no thanks.

Hazel Reinhart Again, his design is lame, but especially his volume eight look. I don't know who thought it looked good, but it haunts me. It's so badly done. His dialogue also often feels forced, which is a complaint I have for other mostly villains like Cinder and Adam. The man literally beats children, and then his wiki page says he has a soft spot for kids lol. Not only does he beat children, but both times he started trying to beat up on Oscar, he was also ranting about how it was Ozpin's fault, blaming Ozpin for his actions like Ozpin was puppeteering his actions and he just couldn't help himself. It's ridiculously that no one ever was like "Hey maybe stop with the 'why are you hitting yourself' routine and stop victim blaming Ozpin for your issues?" He likely was hunting down and murdering hunters in Mistral. Many of them were Qrow's friends and he looked so sad! This guy literally said "My sister made a choice and the person who 'let her' do it is going to get all my anger forever, instead of the person who makes Grimm for fun." He literally said "I'm going to say he deserves torture because my sister wanted to help people and then died doing an incredibly dangerous job and I need someone to blame." I can understand that he was grieving, but again, there was so much misguided blame. And this wouldn't be as big of a deal if not for... The narrative of the show painted Hazel as at least partially right. His badly done death-equals-redemption, rushed and stupid turn to the light side was accompanied by the "no more Gretchens" line and the fact that Hazel's view of Ozpin never really was challenged. The way the story went basically implied that Hazel was right and that Ozpin really was responsible for the death of his sister, and had to be careful in the future not to let anyone else die... As if the entire series isn't centered around young fifteen-to-nineteen year olds fighting a war and insisting they’re ready and the narrative all but saying everyone has to not only let them do whatever they want, but that they aren't good people if they don't help them do it.

Sooo... Yeah. XD That’s why I hate them. There are other people I absolutely hate too, including Cinder, Jacques, the gods, Salem, and Junior, but they’re all people I feel like I was already supposed to hate. Granted, I hate some of them for reasons I don’t think I was supposed to, but I was still meant to hate them. For characters like Robyn, Hazel, Port, and Coco, I was actually supposed to like them at least by the end of their time so far, and instead I wish they’d never existed.

#rwde #rwby hate #anti rwby #rwby bashing #anti robyn hill #anti hazel reinhart #anti peter port #mention of some #anti coco adel #rwby criticism

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sunjaesol · 4 years ago

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written kind of caffeinated, kind of stoned, kind of sleep-deprived juke | 2043 words | pure fluff

He knew that, rationally, he shouldn’t do it. The word “boundary!” blared in his head and the whole thing was really inconsequential and it was so stupid, but Luke simply couldn’t help himself. Was it because of his crush on her? Most definitely. Should that awareness stop him from doing dumb shit like this? Yes, except here he was.

While Julie was at school, she accidentally let the lights in her room on. And so, Luke poofed from the studio into her room to turn them off. Saving power, right? Doing the right thing, being a good person, definitely not going into her room because it was her room.

There was something relaxing about the space though. A sense of serenity falling on his shoulders every time he stepped inside and let his eyes wander and settle on new nooks and corners he hadn’t discovered yet. F+J scratched in the wood of her wardrobe, a box of pretty seashells, four tubes of the exact same mascara in her vanity. It felt familiar and human and simple and so, so Julie.

He flicked the lights off, the only light source being the sun pouring in and casting the room in a gentle glow. Her pink walls were gentler now, the colour of peaches and reminding him of summer nights with his boys on the beach. (It also reminded him of Julie’s peach deodorant that always hung around her and involuntarily made him zero in on her. Alex would argue he was always looking at her, but that wasn’t the point. The point was that the thought of peaches only held fond memories - new memories that now included her too.)

Alright. The lights were off. He did his good deed. He should go back to the boys…

His feet moved on their own accord and plopped down on her bed, sinking into the mattress. His hands caressed the soft comforter, a smile tugging on his lips that thank the fucking music gods, he could still touch and feel things. He would’ve gone insane in an instant if they weren’t able to be in contact with anything or anyone. It was unfathomable to Luke - not hugging Reggie or massaging Alex’s shoulders or grabbing Julie’s hand. To him, music was just another way to share that sensation of contact with people. Didn’t matter if it was loud and rough or quiet and intimate, a ballad or a rock anthem. Connection: that was all he ever needed.

His fingers slid further and suddenly he was laying on his back, staring at the ceiling. Oh, man. Now he really couldn’t leave. Her bed was so comfortable! Definitely better than the mattress he had at his folks or, even worse, the couch. That thing broke his back the last months. Ha, Luke noted bitterly, maybe it was better that he hit the bucket then. Rather dead and setting the stage on fire than living with a hernia, right?

Though Luke still slept (habit? he guessed?), he has never felt sleepy. The boys just hung around or hit the streets and then eventually felt that tug of human normalcy. “Maybe we should go to sleep, guys. Big day ahead.” He didn’t dream. It was just black. It wasn’t unwelcome; just… empty.

But here, laying on Julie’s bed and letting his eyes blur and rest, Luke felt sleepy. Sufficiently exhausted. He didn’t know where that sudden slam of the hammer came from, but he kind of liked it. It made him feel like he was the one that went to school today, or had a tiring shift at some fast food shack, or played a gig. He stretched himself like a star, grinned as all the joints in his back popped, and then rolled on his side. Fucking heaven.

‘What’re you doing here?’

The faraway voice lulled the groggy Luke awake. He felt like he was hit by a truck. Where was he?

‘Hmph?’

She chuckled, his mind speeding up at just the sound and realising that shit, he did fall asleep on her bed and she caught him. His eyes cracked open, coming face to face with an amused Julie hovering on the side of the bed. His brain supplied him with the thought that she looked pretty, reminding him once again that yup, he still liked her. A sheepish smile crawled on his lips.

‘Hey, Jules.’

She rolled her eyes and then roughly pushed him to the other side of the bed. He squeaked, grabbing onto the comforter as to not fall off and gawked at her.

‘Dude!’

‘This is my side of the bed,’ Julie said, pointing at the indent he made. ‘If you’re going to sleep here, it’s on the other side.’

He let out a relieved breath. ‘You’re not mad?’

‘Depends.’ Her eyes narrowed. ‘Why were you in my room?’

Waving his hands towards the ceiling, he muttered. ‘Your lights were still on.’

His reply visibly mellowed her, so much that it kind of surprised him. Her smile melted into those she gave him whenever he found a gnarly lyric or impressed her with a riff or met her halfway for the mic onstage. During those moments, it was hard to deny there wasn’t more, that both knew there was more, but couldn’t really do anything about it. It was really depressing. “Yeah, Jules, I’m fucking crazy about you. Wanna make out and hope I don’t disappear the next day?” Even his impulsive streak wasn’t that extreme.

He hadn’t expected her to smile like that right now. Not when he laid on her bed and her hair was begging for his fingers to slip through and the spot he slept on was still warm. He almost poofed away. Were they going to touch on the “more”? Was this it?

‘Thanks,’ she eventually whispered, eyes dropping and meeting his again with a shyer smile and he knew he was sporting the exact same. A beat passed between them, eyes locked and unwavering. His fingers twitched.

‘Uh…’ Mustering back some rationality, he said: ‘Do you want me to leave, or?’

Her hands stretched out. ‘No!’ Face twisting to something he could only describe as “cringe”, she went on a little calmer. ‘You can- it’s fine. I’m just going to do some homework anyway.’

He watched as she and her backpack found a place on the bed, both very close and very far away all at once. It shouldn’t be intimate, but it was. He was seventeen and she was sixteen and he was pretty sure his crush wasn’t completely one-sided and she just allowed him to stay. There wasn’t music or a guitar or a songbook to hide behind and it sort of terrified him. But in a good way? Like when he went cliff diving and stood at the edge, stomach whooping at the thought of jumping, or when he was at the top of a rollercoaster and the cart slowly began to tilt. It was that. The feeling of quiet exhilaration.

All of that just cause Julie sat next to him bend over a history worksheet. Get a fucking grip, dude.

He didn’t know how long she worked on her homework or how long he stared at the ceiling, hands weaved beneath his head, but it mustn’t been long. The weight shifted and suddenly Julie’s head fell on her pillow with a sigh.

‘No, no, no, Julie,’ he teased, ‘gotta keep those grades up, right?’

She rolled on her side to stick her tongue out. ‘Very funny. You maybe don’t remember it anymore, but school’s exhausting.’

Luke also shifted on his side, chuckling. ‘Jules, it haunts me. That’s why I dropped out.’

‘Cute pun.’

‘Thanks.’ And then, because Luke was never one to overthink: ‘I like this.’

That smile of her came back, the one he always wanted to see. Her eyes crinkled and her lips slightly parted and so incredibly beautiful. He heard music when he looked at her. Death became sweeter if it meant he’d get to stare at the girl of his dreams. It was a morbid thought, but then again, he didn’t deem himself dead whenever he was around her. Luke probably felt so alive around her that it surprised him later on that he wasn’t.

He wasn’t a ghost. Not to her. She didn’t need to tell him for him to know that.

Julie tentatively held her hand out in the space between, palm up and smudged with ink. When he placed his on top, fingers barely intertwining but the sensation like a shot of oxygen, she murmured: ‘Me too.’

They didn’t plan for it to become routine, but it also felt kind of inevitable. Nearly every day, Luke would go to Julie’s room when he knew her day at school was nearing its end and waited on her. She’d come in and briefly recapitulate the day (usually some story regarding an annoying teacher and Flynn with a killer comeback), sliding down on her side of the bed and hold his hands. Some days, her fingertips quietly wandered the lines on his palms, some days his did. It was always quiet. Though the only ones in her room, they whispered. This wasn’t a secret (the boys were keenly aware where Luke spent his afternoons), but it felt wrong to speak at a normal volume when the other was so close.

As the days progressed, they shifted closer. Not intentional, but once again inevitable. Everything about them felt like that nowadays. The longer he was around, the more he realised that this - the bond he shared with Julie - was always meant to happen. Whenever his thoughts meandered to those cosmically impossible ideas of serendipity and couldn’t wrap his head around it, Julie was always there with her smile to bring him back to earth. Or, well, to bed.

And then one day, Julie came home from school, saw him, and without saying anything, crawled right into his chest. His heartbeat didn’t pick up like he expected. It eased and relaxed, sinking deeper into the matress as his eyes fell shut from pure fucking bliss and hugged her closer. Her peach deodorant overwhelmed his senses in the best way possible, burrowing his face in her neck and her smile stretching against his sweater. She was warm and perfectly fit into the curve of his body and he was in love. The acceptance should’ve ached, but it didn’t. How could he think about tomorrow when Julie Molina was wrapped in his arms?

Time froze those afternoons. As long as she kept her head on his chest, as long as they didn’t leave the bed, their island, then nothing could hurt them.

One afternoon, when the sun was reflecting pink and purple splotches on the walls and he was contently dissecting each curl, his heart so full it could explode, he said it. ‘I wanna do this forever.’

He felt her chuckle. ‘Inspecting my hair like a monkey, or…?’

Luke squeezed her closer. ‘C’mon, Jules.’

Her giggles quieted, chin sliding up his chest to look at him. If she found devotion shimmering behind the green, she was correct. He hoped that the warm flickering in her brown ones was the same.

Her voice was small. ‘You do?’

He nodded, every movement too big or too loud, afraid it would ruin the perfect quietude surrounding them. The room melted away, her face all that was left. Before he let the tug in his chest (the same thread that looped them in this embrace) guide him closer, she got there first. Julie surged upwards, barely needing to close any distance to softly find his lips. He cradled her cheek, warmth brimming from every pore on his skin, love pouring from his lips onto hers. It was short and sweet, but their smiles as they did were anything but. It felt like the first flower blooming in spring. Giddy, he kissed her again. He loved her. (It was inevitable.)

Julie hummed an unknown melody in his ear, lilting and just as giddy, her fingers circling right above his heart. It stammered to blend with hers. Luke met her gaze, noses brushing and smiles private and eyes adoring. She loved him. (It was inevitable.)

‘Then let’s do it forever.’

#aight imma head out #juke #jatp fanfiction #not on ao3 cause its too inconsequential lol #julie and the phantoms #otp: i think we make each other better

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thefirsthogokage · 3 years ago

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Ok, so, I continued watching Doogie Kamealoha afterall. I didn't comment on the episodes, but I'm incredibly disturbed by something in the season finale, so I have to say something.

Two full grown adults told a sixteen year old to not listen to her parents and go off to Australia with her boyfriend. Not only that, they said she was doing the right thing, venturing out on her own. SHE'S SIXTEEN! AND ADULTS TOLD HER THAT! And a third just said "we'll miss you."

That isn't even remotely ok! What the fuck is this?

Doogie thinks two months away absolutely justifies all this. She said she never got a vacation before and admitted it was by her own design.

And then to get her to not be stupid and 'give up her dream job that she'd miss like crazy,' - which is not a good argument but then again her boyfriend isn't framed as smart, - he give up something that could be really good for him just to make sure she isn't pulling a dumb.

And this is all played off as romantic and beautiful and the right thing and OH LOOK THEY HAD THE SEVENTEEN YEAR OLD KISS THE 25 YEAR OLD AGAIN.

And no one, NO ONE, has made any good arguments for either side in the entire episode!

They needed to have Doogie realize she's being an impulsive teenager and encourage her boyfriend to go live out his dream. It was only going to be for two months!

Oh god. And the mother is caving to Doogie being stupid and impulsive and not listening. Doogie literally was going to go to Australia against the will of her parents (which actually could have gotten them in serious trouble legally), and now her mom is saying "sure, you're at that point in your teens where you need to do things on your own" about traveling to a DIFFERENT COUNTRY AT SIXTEEN!

Doogie is of course staying only because her boyfriend gave up his dream for hers.

And her mother's change of heart reasoning doesn't make sense.

Oh good! That nonsense reason that didn't really apply to Doogie did apply to her boyfriend and she realized that. But this still, like, what the fuck is with this?

Concluding Thoughts:

This show. Geezus. This writing of this show is bad, and I really do absolutely believe the only thing making it seem good is the setting and the acting. If there is another season, I will only watch if I'm incredibly bored. And if NPH is in it, I'll watch out of curiosity.

#doogie kamealoha spoilers #doogie kamealoha #doogie kameāloha m.d.#riley watches tv

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laineystein · 3 years ago

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“This is new.”

The Boy™️ and I went out for his birthday on Thursday night. His favorite restaurant happens to be close to where we both grew up so we drove through the same neighborhoods that raised us - streets we walked to get to school or back and forth from the houses we grew up in. Of course, we ran into three separate people we knew. This seems to be a trend lately. It’s like our past, every little detail we’ve been so good at keeping hidden, keeps rearing its head, demanding to be dealt with. One of the people we ran into was a teacher we both had in yeshiva and they commented “oh, this is new!” And we both smiled and laughed and wished them a good shabbat. We didn’t talk about it then but we spent Shabbos together – alone – and we spent most of the night unpacking all of it.

This wasn’t the first time we’d heard it. It’s all anyone seems to say lately. When I had a ride to the airport at 4am and my mother strong-armed me into admitting who it was she said “oh, that’s new”. When his Modox parents were a bit passive-agressive toward me earlier in the summer because suddenly I was *everywhere*, I finally got his mother to admit that she worried about our relationship simply because it “came out of nowhere”…because “it’s new” and a lot of our “decisions seem impulsive.”

No. This isn’t new. We’re not new. Our relationship is 15 years old. This has been a thing - many things, actually - for a decade and a half. I have been in love with this man for half of my life but to the world, even the people we love the most, yes - this is new. And I can’t argue with them. We don’t. We have no idea how to handle this.

We were fifteen and sixteen. Simply put - being a teenager means being young and dumb and somehow being terrified and craving happiness in equal amounts. He was (is) my best friend’s brother and they’re extremely close. On top of that, he’s Modox and I wasn’t and am not. His family never treated me differently, even when other families did - especially early on at yeshiva when it was very clear that I was raised differently than most of my classmates. But I loved them and they loved me. They loved me as their daughter’s best friend. It didn’t make sense to explain that I was more than that with their son - especially because we didn’t know what that was.

We were teenagers! We were intense and fearless and manic and we were absolutely terrified of letting anyone down. We’re both the first born in our immigrant Jewish families. There has always been so much pressure on each of us to be the best - the smartest, the most hardworking. For him - the most devout. We both had to marry well and have big Jewish families. We were the product of generations of trauma - children and grandchildren of families that had consistently escaped persecution and now we were seemingly well adjusted teenagers in America, finally free to live the lives everyone who came before us fought so hard for. It was a lot of pressure, all the time. But together? No pressure. The things I struggled to tell his sister - how much I hated my yeshiva uniform, how marriage and children weren’t in the forefront of my mind yet…everything I couldn’t tell anyone else in the world, I told The Boy™️.

That’s where the name comes from - and those of you who used to follow my studyblr know I talked about him often. I never talked about him by name. His sister always thought I had someone in Israel that I had this big crush on. And I did. When he was in Israel with me I had a huge crush on him. But I loved him in Brooklyn too. I loved him when we traveled to France and Amsterdam and Italy. I spent four out of my five IDF civilians (time off from the military) with him and no one knew. We have lived so many lives together. We’ve experienced so many things, side by side, and no one had any clue. And we watched each other love other people and try to make it work with people that weren’t us. But ultimately he was the one who helped me through breakups and med school. He was the person that literally saved my life in 2020 when my shifts at the hospital during COVID had me so mentally and physically exhausted that I could barely get out of bed…literally. Then when things calmed down I realized, it didn’t matter what was going on in the world, he’s always been my biggest supporter and I cannot and will not live without him and the fact that we weren’t sharing this thing that made us both so undeniably happy just felt ridiculous and unfair.

But we didn’t know how to even explain everything so we kind of…didn’t? It was never “this is my best friend and we’re in love” it was “I’m going to Israel and he’s coming too”. We alternated Shabbos between his parents’ house and mine. All the while everyone is hesitant, almost nervous - this is new, this is new, this is new. It’s not new. But this is the first time we’re admitting how we feel and what we are to the people we love. He’s not just my friend’s brother. He’s not even just my best friend or my boyfriend. He’s the man I want to marry and have a family with. I get why our families are so confused. They have no idea all we’ve done and how so many of the things they celebrate in us - our jobs, our successes, our faith - is because of the other.

So we have to start being honest. They’ll never truly get it if they can’t see how deep it is, if they can’t acknowledge the history. But how do we explain it? We are who we are because once upon a time we were both really struggling with our faith. We thought we were terrible Jews because we didn’t want the things our parents wanted. I didn’t believe in tzniut. Some days he didn’t either. We were doing things we were told kids in yeshiva don’t do! We were having sex and smoking weed and going to bars in the city because we could. But it wasn’t about being a part of the goy world. We didn’t want that. We just wanted to be who we were in the Jewish world and we had no idea how to do that. For so long it felt like it was us against the world - Jewish and gentle. We didn’t fit in with either but we could be who we wanted to be, together, in this weird in-between. He’s safety. He always has been. When I have a thought and I know no one in the world will understand it, I know he’s the exception. We always felt like we were judged, even inadvertently by people who swore they were being open minded and supportive, but together that was never a worry. So how do we explain that?

We don’t. We won’t. We need to be honest about some things: about how far our friendship goes back, about the depth of it - then and now. Everyone else is free to make their own assumptions. They can draw their own conclusions or they can just learn to accept us as we are now. The weird part is that everyone has been much more accepting than we imagined - especially his sister. She loves our relationship so much, to the point that we feel bad for keeping it from her for so long. But we don’t know if we’d be who we are now if we hadn’t lived this other life together. We weren’t wrong. Having this one thing in life that is untouched by the world was magical. We still have days where we miss it, especially now as questions of marriage and children flood in. But we’ve agreed that we’ll be honest with our children. All of it.

I guess a lot of this for us wasn’t just about *us* but about who each of us are as people. We’ve always worn so many labels. We’re completely opposites but we have fundamental similarities. We both love being Jewish. We’re loud and proud, unapologetic Jews. But we weren’t always! And the secret nature of our relationship aside, that’s what’s the most difficult for us to acknowledge publicly - myself in particular. I get a lot of that - often from many of you. I am so so honored that where I am with my faith today, at 31, is something so many of you admire. I can’t even begin to explain to you how much that means to me. But I guess it’s important to note that this was a journey. I was a mess. I always loved being a Jew but for several years I didn’t know what that meant. I didn’t know that I had the power to write my own narrative and live my life as a Jew on my own terms. The strength and confidence you see now is because all of the bullshit I went through before. Even now I am constantly learning. Every day I become more and more secure in my role as a Jewish woman, now that I can define what that means for me.

And that’s all I want for any of you! Live your Jewish truth! We are all products of so much hardship. We really do deserve to be the best version of ourselves. We deserve happiness and security in our relationships, in our careers, in every aspect of life possible. And if you’re not there yet - if you wake up wondering where you fit into the Tribe, that’s okay! You will get there! Being a Jew is a super power!!! You just need to figure out how to be a Jew in a way that makes the most sense to you. There truly is no one way to be a Jew - no wrong way to be a Jew. Being a Jew, in any capacity, makes you an awesome Jew. I wish I had someone to tell me that but I didn’t. It took me many years to be where I am now. So for anyone who needs to hear it: you’re an awesome Jew and I’m so proud of you!

#blog-ish things #Jew things #the boy™️#personal #about me #this was kind of all over the place so if you read it...apologies but also thanks?#I tried to make sense but it's a mess because at one point in my life I was a mess and some days I'm still a mess AND THAT'S OKAY!#anyway. you're all wonderful. I hope you're enjoying your weekends!

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paperbodiesamongthestars · 4 years ago

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Witchcraft does not reward shitty intentions

Hello, I am a day late with my mythological creatures AU, oh noooooo. Also, I had this filed in my brain as a love potion story and it took me way longer than it should have to realize that there isn’t actually a love potion in it.

Read it on AO3!

Steve handed him his movies and opened his mouth like he was going to say something. Then he closed it again.

"Spit it out, Bambi," Billy said. Steve stared at him for a minute, glancing around to make sure Billy was the only customer at Family Video.

"I just wanted you to know that it's not your fault," he finally said tentatively. Billy thought about all the things Steve could be referring to and decided he needed more specifics.

"What are you talking about?"

"The...thing. The attraction thing." Steve gestured between them. "It's not your fault." Steve sighed as Billy's eyes narrowed. "I'm not trying to make this weird. I just...I've seen how you look at me sometimes, and I wanted you to know that it's not you. It's me." Billy decided to ignore the fear in the pit of his stomach at the idea that Steve had apparently caught him looking. Neil was gone, he reminded himself. Sure, his first impulse was to shove Steve against a wall until he promised never to say shit like that again, but he suppressed it. He wanted to know what the fuck Steve was talking about.

"Still not following, princess."

"I was cursed. By a witch. So people are, you know, attracted to me." Billy stared at him.

"And that's a curse because..." he prompted.

"Oh, the curse is that everyone is attracted to me, but no one can truly love me until the curse is broken." Steve seemed remarkably cavalier about it. Billy just stared at him again.

"I'm sorry, what?" he asked, still lost. This was not a conversation he had been expecting to have--ever, really--so it was taking him a minute to catch up. Steve sighed again.

"I was kind of a shallow dick at the beginning of high school. Someone in our graduating class didn't like it, so she cursed me to experience the shallowest possible expression of love until someone comes along who feels strongly enough about me to break the curse."

"What does that even mean? And how will you know that the curse is broken?"

"Great questions," Steve said. "Unfortunately, the witch in question is still a little vague on the details." He raised his voice throughout the sentence until he was practically yelling the last part. Robin came of the back room and Steve played up glaring at her.

"Wait, Robin is the one who cursed you?" Billy asked. That seemed harsh, even for Robin, who could be absolutely savage sometimes. Also, she was Steve's best friend. Robin grimaced and threw up her hands, already defensive.

"Ugh, we're talking about this? Again? First of all, part of Steve's whole attraction deal is definitely the Fae thing, so you can't put all of that on me. Furthermore, I was sixteen and the girl I liked wouldn't stop looking at him, and we weren't friends yet, and I thought he was just a stupid dickhead jock!" Her gaze went to Steve and her tone was a little gentler, though still exasperated. "How many times do I have to say that I'm sorry?" Steve just shrugged. Billy looked from Robin to Steve and back.

"Okay, first of all, I have never heard about any of this so, yeah, we are definitely talking about it," Billy said. "And secondly, you made it so that Harrington can't experience love, Buckley. That's a lot of apologizing."

"Oh, that is rich coming from the dude who almost beat Steve to death approximately five minutes after arriving in Hawkins," Robin shot back. It wasn't exactly an unfair point, but Billy wasn't going to say that. He stared her down instead.

"Billy already apologized for that. And it was a long time ago," Steve said generously. Steve also generously did not mention that Billy had gotten so choked up he could barely finish the apology, and that he had spent the entire second semester of that year helping Steve with his homework without Steve asking him to. Billy also still sometimes shoveled the walk in front of Steve's apartment in the winter, and he showed up periodically to do maintenance on Steve's car. He was reminded of his guilt every time he saw the scar at Steve's hairline, was all. He definitely wasn't just looking for excuses to spend time with, or in the general vicinity of, Steve. Also, none of that was the point right now because it turned out that Robin had also fucked Steve over. And furthermore, what the fuck was the Fae thing?

"He can't. Experience. Love," Billy repeated. Jesus, Steve deserved better friends. "And also, what the fuck is the Fae thing?"

"Steve's mom is Fae," Robin said. "And you're always so fucking dramatic. He can experience love," she insisted, but she sounded a little uncertain. "He falls in love all the fucking time."

"Yeah, but no one's ever going to love me back until the curse is over," Steve sighed. He leaned on the counter, looking a little forlorn.

"Every curse can be broken," Robin said stubbornly. "I just wasn't very detailed about the wording of this one."

"And that's important because..." Billy prompted. He let the Fae thing slide for now. That revelation felt like it warranted an entirely separate conversation. Robin sighed.

"Like I said, every curse can be broken. Typically, an experienced witch will build the conditions for breaking the curse into the spell itself. Said witch will be as specific as possible, to ensure that the conditions are actually met before the curse is broken. If, hypothetically speaking, you have an inexperienced witch who used the wording from a spell template she found on the internet, you get stuck with something vague like 'the curse will be broken when the power of love outweighs the power of the curse.'"

"Ok, so someone just has to love Steve more than you were mad at him when you cursed him. And, one more time, how will you know when the curse is broken?" Robin winced a little.

"There's usually some kind of indication?" It was much more a question than it was a statement.

"I take it that's another thing that is usually covered in the initial spell."

"Yep," Robin said, staring intently at the floor. There was a long silence, and she finally looked up at Steve. "If it helps, I think that curse is probably the reason my love life is a complete disaster. Witchcraft does not reward shitty intentions, even if you're cursing a stupid jock with dumb hair who, at one time, almost definitely deserved it." Steve stared at her, visibly suppressing a smile.

"That's a really touching apology, Robin."

"Shut up, dingus." She nudged him with her elbow and he nudged her back. Now they were both suppressing little grins.

"I can't believe you're both just fine with this," Billy said, staring at them. He knew he was irrationally angry, but he had a nagging feeling that he had been personally wronged by this entire situation. He chose not to think too hard about why that was. Robin narrowed her eyes at him.

"I tried to lift the curse a bunch of times," she said. "I can't do it. Probably because it was such a shitty spell to start with." She sighed. "At this point I'm worried that if I keep trying, I'll just make it worse." Steve shrugged.

"It's okay. It's not like it changed my life all that much in the first place." Billy's eyes narrowed at the hint of bitterness in Steve's tone. "Besides, it's not like I can do much about it now. Except wait and see if someone ever falls in love with me hard enough to break it." Steve's tone had turned wistful, and he had a faraway look in his eyes.

"Someone will," Robin said quietly. She bumped her shoulder against Steve's and smiled at him. "I know they will, dingus." Steve appeared to come back to himself a little bit. He stood straighter at the counter.

"Anyway," he said to Billy, "I just wanted you to know that it's not you, it's me. And it will fade with time. It always does." He gave Billy a reassuring smile, seemingly unaware of how fucking sad that sounded. Billy stared at him for a long moment, thinking hard. Then he smiled back, a little wolfish.

"Thanks, Harrington. That is good to know." He gave the two of them a little salute and then took his movies and walked out of Family Video.

Billy got in his car, but he didn't start it immediately. Instead he sat there, staring into space. Steve was wrong, obviously; that wasn't even a question. If the only thing Billy felt for Steve Harrington was attraction, his life would be significantly easier. He knew what to do about that. Hell, he probably would have already done it, and he thought Steve probably would have been into it; Billy hadn't been the only one looking for a while now. The problem was that he wanted to hold Steve's hand and gaze into his stupid doe eyes almost as much as he wanted to lick him all over, and Billy didn't have the first fucking clue what to do about that.

It was three weeks later when Robin cornered Billy at the auto shop. His behavior toward Steve hadn’t changed, and sometimes he thought he saw a hint of wistfulness in Steve’s expression when Billy flirted with him. Like maybe he was a little hopeful. Mostly, though, he seemed resigned. A little sad. Robin watched their interactions with sharp, knowing eyes, and Billy wasn’t exactly surprised to find her waiting for him after a long shift on a windy, overcast Wednesday.

Robin’s eyes stayed on him as he approached, and then she glanced down at his pendant.

“You never take that off?” she asked. He was caught a little off guard. He hadn’t expected her to open with that. Or to ask about it at all.

“No," he said, suspicious. "My mom told me to always leave it on,” he added, not sure why he was volunteering information except that Robin occasionally reminded him a little bit of his mom. Something in her affect, maybe. Robin nodded, like his mom's insistence on it made sense to her for some reason. She pushed off the side of his car and waited for him to unlock it.

“Let’s go,” she said.

“Go where?” he asked warily.

“My parents' house.”

“Why would I do that?” They weren’t exactly friends, despite all the time Billy spent at Family Video. Robin’s grin was sharp.

“Because I have a theory,” she said.

“Still not hearing anything about why I would want to do this.” Her grin widened.

“Do you want a shot at Steve Harrington or not?” she asked. Billy stared at her for just a second too long without responding, and her eyes sparkled, and then it was too late to do anything but get in the car and let her in the passenger side.

“Steve is cursed, remember?” His tone was acidic as he tried to regain the upper hand.

“He is,” she agreed, “but that might be less of a problem than we thought.” He glanced over at her and then back at the road. It came to him all at once, and suddenly he felt a lot less off-balance.

“You think I'm going to fix this for you,” he said quietly. Robin’s smile vanished and there was a long silence.

“Maybe. Kind of,” she admitted. “But not in the way that you’re thinking.” He glanced over again and cocked an eyebrow.

“Spit it out, Buckley,” he prompted when she didn’t elaborate. She shook her head.

“I’d rather show you when we get there,” she said. “You’ll never believe me otherwise.” He frowned at her, but didn’t argue. He could indulge her for a little while.

When they pulled up in front of her parents' house, Robin didn’t get out of the car right away. She stared up at the gabled roof of the house instead.

“I don’t take it lightly, you know,” she finally said. She was still staring out the window. She didn’t look at Billy. “I was young and stupid and scared and it wasn’t Steve’s fault I felt that way, but it felt like it was. I did something terrible and I haven’t been able to fix it and it kills me how nice he is about it.” She turned to look at Billy and her eyes were dry, but he could see the emotion there. "I imagine you can relate," she said drily. Then she narrowed her eyes at him, calculating. “I really expected you to be a dick about it. I thought you’d find it so funny that King Steve was totally fucked when it came to love, but you didn’t look amused at all.” Robin’s eyes were intent on Billy. “You looked surprised and then angry, which was interesting. So I started paying more attention to you.” Billy stared at her, torn between anger and fear. Someone paying close attention to his life had not, historically, ended well for him. She must have seen it on his face. “Easy, big guy,” she said. “I’m not threatening you. In fact, I think I can help you.” Yeah. He’d heard that before. But Robin thought he could help Steve, maybe, and that was worth something. He sighed.

“So this theory.” Her smile was bright.

“Follow me.”

They ended up in an attic room at the very top of the house. The floor was bare wood with intricate designs painted on it. Billy thought they were chalk at first, but they didn’t smudge when Robin walked over them. Billy felt a tingle at the back of his neck when Robin closed the door, and then his ears popped. He looked sharply at Robin, who nodded to herself.

“Ok, so I need you to take off your necklace.”

“We literally just covered this; I don't take it off.” She was nodding.

"I know. But we're in a magically sealed room with very solid wards, so whatever your mom was protecting you from can't get to you here." She leaned closer, eyes on his pendant. She held a hand over it, not quite touching, but close enough to make him a little wary. "No, not protecting," she murmured, largely to herself. Her eyes went a little wide and came up to Billy's. "This isn't a protection spell. It's a concealment spell. A major one." Billy felt an echo of something familiar in her words, and it was deeply unsettling. He tried to keep the waver out of his voice when he spoke.

"What are you talking about, Buckley?" She straightened up and sighed.

"Again, it would be easier to show you." He just stared at her, stubborn. She rolled her eyes.

"Ok, fine. Your pendant is absolutely saturated with power. Fortunately for you, the only people you hang out with who are likely to notice are me, because witch, and Steve, because Fae senses. When you said you never took it off, I assumed it was a protection spell, but, well, you used to walk around with an awful lot of injuries for someone wearing a protective charm. That hasn't been true for a while, though." And there it was--the reason close scrutiny was never very good for Billy. Because he had a lot of secrets, and he still didn't like people knowing about them. His face must have betrayed him again because Robin's voice was gentle when she continued.

"Again, I'm not going to harm you. I can swear to it, if it would make you feel better."

"That's not super reassuring coming from someone who inadvertently permanently cursed her best friend," Billy muttered. Robin stared at him for a beat and then nodded.

"I'm going to let that one go because you're so obviously uncomfortable. But maybe be a little nicer to the person who is currently trying to help you."

"Don't need help," Billy said stubbornly. Robin just grinned at him.

"I think you just might. Now off." She gestured at the necklace. "Come on, you can put it right back on, and I promise this is a secure room. It's magically sealed up nice and tight." Billy stared at her for a long moment and then decided to humor her. He wasn't sure why. He lifted the necklace over his head and dropped it into the small silver bowl she held out to him.

"Cleansed and warded," she said, as though he had any idea what that meant. But she handled the bowl with respect as she set it gently on a table behind her. Then she turned and stared expectantly at Billy.

He felt the same as he always did, although he was just now noticing that the room was warmer than it had been before. He glanced at Robin and followed her wide-eyed gaze to his hands. His own eyes went wide as he stared down at them. His fingertips were glowing gold. The sight should have been shocking, but instead it was...familiar. It tugged at something in his mind--

And then he wasn't aware of much at all as a flood of memories swept over him. Sights, sounds, smells, the feel of power in his fingertips. His mother, talking him through the process as she prepared salves and potions and tinctures. The smell of fresh herbs and the mustiness of her drying room. Watching as she worked on his necklace every night for months. Her big eyes, sad on his as she explained. It's not safe, baby. I'm so sorry you have to hide, but I can't be there to protect you. It's not forever, I promise. My sisters will find you and they'll help you. The memories just kept coming. He was drowning in sensation and he couldn't get his bearings...

"--lly. Billy! Are you ok?" Robin's voice finally penetrated the haze of memories. Billy shook his head, trying to clear away the lingering headache caused by the flood. He gradually became aware that he was kneeling on the wooden floor of the room, hunched over, hands on the sides of his head. Tentatively, he lowered his hands and looked up. "Fuck," Robin breathed out. "You scared the shit out of me." She slumped down next to him. His fingertips were still glowing, but at least now he knew why. They sat in silence for a while. Billy eventually shifted until he was sitting cross-legged and closed his eyes, just breathing. The chaos in his head was settling, the memories slotting into place among the ones he already had. He took his time, wrapping his head around the way his entire world had just shifted on its axis. Robin seemed content to breathe next to him for as long as it took. It was a small kindness, but Billy wasn't used to kindness at all.

"So you thought I was a witch," Billy finally said slowly.

"Suspected," Robin corrected. "And I was right." She clearly had any number of questions, but didn't ask any of them. She just looked at him, eyes careful on his face.

"My mom was a witch," he said, trying out the words. They felt comfortable on his tongue. "I'm a witch," he tried next. It felt good. Right. He felt whole for the first time in a long time.

"I picked that one up from context, actually," Robin teased. He glared at her, but she just smiled.

"The necklace hid my power." He sighed. "She was trying to keep me safe." Robin was nodding. She carefully did not ask from what, and Billy appreciated that kindness too.

"Your mom must have been really good," Robin said. "That's major magic." Billy nodded a little. Now that he remembered his training, he knew just how much had gone into the spell. No wonder Robin had noticed it.

Billy flinched at a sudden knock at the door, and Robin's head snapped around.

"Robin? Honey? What exactly are you doing in my workroom?" Robin grimaced. She looked at the necklace on the table. Billy stood and reached for it, but she stopped him with a hand on his wrist.

"What if you lose your memories again?" she asked. Billy hesitated. The knocking came again and Robin seemed to make a decision. She tightened her hand around Billy's wrist. "My mom is...a lot, ok, but she's also very good. She might be able to help." Billy considered it. He wasn't ready to lose all those memories again. He let the pendant slide back into the bowl, hoping he was making the right choice.

Robin crossed the room and opened the door. Her mother stepped in, and Billy felt her presence immediately. It was clear why Robin had described her as 'a lot.' She wasn't particularly tall, but the room felt smaller as soon as she entered it. Her eyes swept over the two of them, just as sharp as her daughter's. Billy kept his back straight as she studied him. She closed the door behind her, and Billy felt that tingle at the back of his neck again. This time, though, he knew it was the wards kicking in, and he remembered the sensation from his mother's workroom at home. Robin's mom turned her attention to Robin, and Billy saw her swallow once. He tensed a little, but Mrs. Buckley just shook her head, a little fondly.

"Why exactly you thought I wasn't going to notice power of this magnitude in my own workroom escapes me," she said drily.

"I didn't know what was going to happen," Robin said. Her mother sighed, exasperated.

"That's not really better, love," she said, but there was affection in it. She turned her attention to Billy, eyeing him speculatively as she moved closer and held out a hand.

"Elle Buckley. Robin's mother and local High Priestess."

"Billy Hargrove," Billy said. He wasn't sure how to explain the rest. Fortunately, Robin's mom didn't seem to need much of an explanation. She crossed to the table and passed a hand over the bowl holding his necklace, though she didn't touch it. One of her eyebrows went up and she looked back at Billy.

"That must have been a confusing few minutes," she said. "You won't lose your memories if you put it back on. It will conceal your power from others, but not from you anymore."

"You're sure?" Billy asked.

"I am," she said with confidence. "It was elegant spellwork." She stared at him for a long moment. "Your mother, I assume?" Billy nodded. "She trained you?" He nodded again. Mrs. Buckley nodded to herself and turned back to Robin.

"That was reckless," she said. "What exactly were you thinking?" Robin flushed under her mother's scrutiny.

"He should know what he is," Robin said. Her mother just cocked an eyebrow and held her gaze, waiting. Robin sighed. "And I thought maybe he could help with Steve's curse," she admitted, mainly to the floor. Mrs. Buckley's expression went a little hard around the edges.

"We've been over this, Robin. The Harrington boy can get help from his family if he needs it." Billy looked at Robin, who was still looking at the floor. The Harrington boy? Not Steve, not your best friend. There was a story there. "Besides, Billy needs our help at the moment," she continued. She turned back to Billy.

"You've missed a lot of time as an apprentice," she said. "How old were you when your mother gave you the pendant?"

"Thirteen," Billy said. He wouldn't forget that age anytime soon; it had been a bad year. Mrs. Buckley nodded.

"We'll have to get you set up with someone in town," she mused.

"Not right away, though," Robin interjected. Her mother looked at her, surprised. "He literally just found out. He can take a little while to get used to it, Mom. He's got the basics, right?" Robin glanced at him and he nodded. His mom had taught him enough to keep himself and others safe. Robin's mom looked between them for a long moment, and then sighed.

"All right. Come see me when you're ready to get started. And keep that pendant on, for now, if you're not in a sealed workroom," she said to Billy. He nodded again. He had planned to do that anyway. Mrs. Buckley looked at Robin. "Next time, maybe give me a heads-up before you want to use my workroom? I can only help if I'm actually present when something happens." Robin also nodded, and Mrs. Buckley swept out of the room, pointedly waiting to open the door until Billy had his necklace on. He felt better with it back in place.

Robin led Billy out of the workroom and back through the house, and then followed him out to his car. She stood at the passenger door expectantly. He sighed and unlocked it. They sat there in silence while he lit a cigarette. She shook her head when he offered her the pack.

"What are we doing?" he finally asked, breaking the silence.

"I have two pieces of good news for you," she said. He gestured at her to continue. "You're a witch," she started.

"Wait, what?" he said, acting surprised. The smile vanished off of her face for just a second until she realized he was kidding. She shoved at his arm.

"You dick. I thought you had lost your memories again." She glared at him while he laughed. "What I was trying to say was that there are a couple of implications of your new status that you might find interesting."

"Oh?" he asked, drawing out the word, tone as obnoxious as possible.

"First of all," she said, smile going a little sharp, "curses don't work on other witches. So whatever you feel for Steve is all you, friend." She smirked when Billy looked over at her, and then she kept talking. "That was why I wanted to test my theory so badly." Billy thought about it.

"You know this doesn't actually fix anything, right? He's still cursed."

"Sure," Robin said, "but we found a nice little loophole, and now we can just exploit the shit out of it."

"So what, Steve just has to spend the rest of his life cursed? Come on, Buckley." Robin looked at him and then smiled.

"Hey, maybe the curse will be broken as soon as you kiss him. I suggest you try it. But please do me a huge favor and tell Steve the news when I'm there? I really want to see his face."

"Yeah, no, I'm definitely not doing that." Robin stared at him, amused.

"You don't seem quite as happy as I thought you'd be," she said, and then her eyes widened. "You don't know how to tell him that you like him," she breathed.

"What? I don't...I mean, I do..." She let him flounder, smile growing wider by the second. He finally trailed off.

"Good luck with all of that," she said, gesturing in his general direction. "The good news is that you're a witch and Steve is half-Fae, so you've got a long-ass time to get your shit together. I have a feeling you're going to need it." She opened the car door and got out.

"Thanks," he said sarcastically, and then he felt bad. She had, after all, given him back a part of himself that he hadn't even known was missing. "Thanks," he said again, more sincerely this time. She held his gaze and nodded, giving him a small, genuine smile. Then she closed the car door and turned to head back into her house.

Billy sat there for a while, Robin's words from before ringing in his ears. Do you want a shot at Steve Harrington or not? He did, obviously, and now he had one. What he still didn't have was any fucking idea what to do about it.

#harringrove #my writing #harringroveweekoflove #a lil late #mythological creatures au

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puckyeahobx · 4 years ago

Text

they tried to sweep us into the cracks in the wall

not my gif

a/n: i really hope you guys aren’t getting tired of my rafe apologist behavior because it’s just gonna keep coming. this one is a little long but i really like how it turned out! i just hope rafe gets some form of redemption arc or SOMETHING because he truly is just a product of his toxic, abusive environment and i know he’s good at heart. (it helps that drew is my dream man tho) *title inspired by chapstick by hippo campus*

summary: there’s a huge storm in the obx one night and y/n is stuck at the diner she works tirelessly at. little does she know that her beloved diner is about to become refuge for the last person she’d ever dream of feeling empathy for.

warnings: none! fluff overload

word count: 7.6k (meep)

You had been working at this cafe by the beach for a couple of years now, ever since you had turned 16. You needed the money to save for college and get the hell out of your house and, one day, the Outer Banks. It’s not that you didn’t love it there, because of course you did. It was home after all but you just knew that you were meant for more. But, it had been almost four years at this cafe, two at the closest community college, and things weren’t looking good on the whole “meant for more” front. Lost as ever, you just kind of took every day as it came and tried to keep a smile on your face as you did so. It wasn’t a particularly hard life, nor was it ridiculously painful, but you couldn’t help but think of what sixteen year old Y/N would have thought of you four years older in the same shitty apron and clunky work shoes.

Much like your life hadn’t changed much in the last four years, the cafe hadn’t changed since before you were born. The same old people came in on the same days at the same times, which was good because it meant you got to know them really well, usually meaning bigger tips for you, but it was kind of a slap in the face with the whole complacency thing. You were the youngest people ever in that building, besides Mildred’s granddaughter Celia who came in for brunch every Sunday at 10:45 (right after mass), and since this is where you spent pretty much all your time, your dating life was also suffering. This obviously wasn’t the most pressing variable in the situation, but it was a variable all the same and it wasn’t like you could pretend like you didn’t notice. Because you did. Every time a love song from the 60’s came on the cafe playlist you noticed. Whenever Ester and Charles came in for their Monday morning coffees and Thursday evening dinners, you noticed. Sometimes you’d be doing nothing at all and you’d notice. It was kind of impossible to ignore. You weren’t one to obsess over boys because, frankly, there weren’t any you were interested in. This was a small island, you knew your options and you were far from impressed. Sure some of them were attractive, but that usually also meant they had rocks for brains and that was just not something you were willing to indulge just because you were desperate for a warm body. This was your life for right now and you were just going to have to be ok with it. And you were. For the most part.

The good thing is that you didn’t hate your job. Food service wasn’t glamorous but the cafe was sort of like a second home to you, and since you had been there for so long the owners really trusted you. The couple that owned the place weren’t as young as they were when they opened it 25 years ago so any chance they got to hand the keys over to you for the night, they took gladly. Tonight was one of those nights. It was pouring outside as you started the closing duties. Sweeping, wiping down the tables, polishing the glassware, typical restaurant stuff. It was actually kind of relaxing.

You were on your fourth set of mugs when you were startled by the bell above the front door jingled delightfully. It was only 9 PM so you didn’t technically close for another hour, but your usual crowd tapped out at around 7:30. But, then you realized that this customer was a part of your usual crowd. Oh no, this 6’4” twenty something in board shorts and a half-buttoned shirt was far from that. He was soaked from head to toe, his horrific Sperry’s squelching as he made his way toward the counter, looking around. He couldn’t see you from your spot hidden around the corner to the kitchen back by the dishwasher, but you could see him bright and clear.

“Hello? Is there anyone here?” His tall body and broad shoulders did not match the apprehensive tone of his voice, and it certainly was a far cry from the way you had heard him speak before.

You stepped out from around the corner wordlessly, your towel and mug still in hand. He jumped in surprise before you could say anything.

“Jesus Christ!”

You jumped back at his mini outburst, “You’re the one that asked if anyone was here!”

He rest his hands on the counter and huffed out a laugh, “Uh, yeah. Sorry,” he looked up, his hair (as well as the rest of him) completely soaking wet and dripping all over your freshly mopped floors, and his eyes closed in on you, “Do I know you?”

“We, uh, we went to school together. Class of 2018. You’re uh Rafe Cameron, right?” You tried to be casual, but you knew exactly who he was. Rafe Cameron: public deviant and resident party boy of Figure Eight. Needless to say you never ran in the same circle, but it was impossible not to know who he was. Some may have called in infamy.

Straightening up he smacked a hand to his forehead and then started pointing at you, snapping. “Yes duh! And you’re-” more snapping, “God it’s been so long….Something with an ‘M’?”

You knew he had never known your name, but you kind of liked that he was pretending. “It’s Y/F/N Y/L/N. I think we had geometry together sophomore year.”

“That must be why I don’t remember you, I never went to that class. Mrs. Reynolds was a bitch.”

Normally you would have scoffed and rolled your eyes at a man calling a woman a bitch but in this instance he was absolutely correct. “She was the worst,” you laughed nervously.

There was a beat of awkward silence when you remembered what you were being paid for, “Oh so did you, um, did you want something to eat?”

He looked at you like you were speaking a foreign language until he also seemed to remember what your job was, “What? Oh, uh, no. Not really.”

“Ok...do you want coffee or anything?” You asked, confused.

“I actually only came in because this was the only place within like ten miles that had its lights on. You do know there’s a tropical storm coming, right?”

You did not know there was a tropical storm coming. At around 7 you turned the radio off and took aux, simultaneously cutting off any and all emergency weather reports. You could tell that the storm was rough, but it was rare for a tropical storm this time of year.

“Is that why you’re soaking wet? You got that bad just from walking inside here?”

He started to rub the back of his neck and looked down at the ground, “No, actually, I got this bad from riding my bike for the last hour.”

Wanting to avoid another awkward pause you blurted out the first thing that came to mind, “Well that’s pretty stupid.” You immediately covered your mouth with your free hand, a hot, crimson blush creeping up your neck and taking refuge all across your cheeks. The awkward pause would have been favorable.

However, instead of flipping you off and calling you a dumb slut like he and his friends had been known to do in high school, he looked back up at you and laughed. You hoped it was with you instead of at you, so you forced a laugh back. It was hard not to, his face completely changed when he laughed. It was as if all of his features shifted into something softer, rounder, open. You had gone to school with Rafe Cameron your whole life and never before would you have ever dared to describe him as warm, but that’s exactly what the person laughing on the other side of the counter was. It was almost off-putting.

“Yeah, it was pretty fucking stupid. But, in my defense, it wasn’t raining when I got on my bike. And I didn’t have much of a choice.” The last sentence fell off his tongue a little harder, a little darker.

“What happened?” You weren’t sure why tonight was the night you had decided to speak on impulse, but you were really starting to question why lobotomies were frowned upon. It seemed like you could use one.

He clearly didn’t want to answer, with the way he sighed and focused his attention on the cup of coffee stirrers on the counter in front of him, but he did anyway. “You know how parents are. The old man was just sick of looking at me tonight, I guess.” His tone was casual, but his gaze on the coffee stirrers was anything but. Happy people don’t look at inanimate objects like that.

You let his omission sit in the air for a moment, making sure you didn’t say anything stupid again before settling on the one thing you knew to be a sure fire antidote. “I think you should drink some hot cocoa.”

He looked up at you and tried to wave the suggestion off, “Nah it’s ok. This storm will be over any minute now and then I’ll head out. Besides, you’re cleaning and I’m interrupting you.” He went to turn around and sit in some of the chairs but you had already turned on the machine.

“Don’t be stupid, this storm is going to stick around for awhile. You might as well get comfortable.” The hot cocoa finished and you topped it off with whipped cream and brought it to his spot at the table closest to the counter.

He looked from the mug to you and back again, doing that thing with his neck again. “This is really nice, Y/N, but, uh, I don’t have any money.”

You scoffed and walked away, “Yeah, ok, Mr. Tannyhill.”

He got a little quieter, “No, uh, I’m serious. My dad cut me off. None of my cards work.” You turned around and saw him looking down at his shoes. His broad frame slouching over onto itself, making him look almost small.

“Don’t worry about it. I was never going to make you pay for it anyway. Just promise I can have a sip, yeah?” You tried to keep the conversation light so he didn’t freak about the amount of honesty he was sharing with you. Why was he being so honest? Why was he talking to you at all? You suppose it would have been awkward if he had just walked in, not ordered anything, and sat down without a word, but that still didn’t explain the brutal honesty about his homelife.

He smiled at you and laughed, “Yeah, I promise. You can have as many sips as you want.”

You returned a soft smile back and pointed to the kitchen, “I, uh, I have some other stuff in the back I need to finish up real quick. Make yourself at home, I guess.” And you turned around quickly, hoping he couldn’t see the heat rising to your cheeks, and made your way back into the safety of the dishroom.

Back in the safety of the dishroom you had time to actually process what was happening for the first time all night. There you were, desperate for something in your life to start, and then all of a sudden something jolted you awake. Maybe you were being dramatic for the sake of entertainment, but as a big believer in the universe and the purposeful things it sends our way, you were not about to take this for granted. He was being so kind - so very the opposite of the Rafe you had heard the stories about for years and years. But there was more to it, the kindness didn’t even seem like an active choice. He just was. From the way he tentatively looked around for another soul in the storm, to the guilty look on his face when he couldn’t pay for the drink you had made for him (it was true, by the way. You really were never going to make him pay for it. His surprise made you wonder when was the last time he had been shown a random act of kindness like that. You felt your heart hurting for him), he was just kind and scared and considerate. Although, you might have just been romanticizing the one interaction you had had with a guy in God knows how long. It didn’t help that his shirt was almost all the way unbuttoned and completely soaked through. You weren’t even letting yourself think about the way his hair was stuck to his forehead and in his eyes, because if you thought about it you were afraid you might offer up your hand in marriage.

All this not thinking about his hair had really distracted you from your cleaning, so you were even further behind. You still had four racks of mugs to wash and dry as well as three containers of silverware to sort. Normally, you would have been by now. But normally, there wasn’t a soaking wet boy in your cafe.

Just when you were almost done not thinking about him, you heard his voice coming from somewhere much closer than the table by the window. “Um, do you need any help?” He asked from the doorway.

You jumped, almost dropping the mug in your hand.

“We should probably stop sneaking up on each other, you might end up breaking a mug,” He chuckled as he walked towards you, tugging a dry towel off the rack by the door. “So, where do we start?”

You stared blankly back at him, not trusting your brain to come up with something intelligent to say.

He chuckled offhandedly at your agape mouth, taking the wet mug from your hands and drying it before setting it on the rack with the rest, “Take a picture, it’ll last longer. And, even better, it might just restore my image,” He paused and held his hands out in front of him with a grand gesture, “‘Outer Banks Playboy and Coke Addict Rafe Cameron Attempts Manual Labor’ That’ll be a hit for sure. Do you have any more washed mugs or should I do that too?”

Snapping out of your trance, you cleared your throat and pulled out a rack of freshly washed mugs and set them in front of you both. He was standing so close to you that you could practically feel the heat radiating off of him through his soaked shirt.

“You know, we have extra uniform shirts in the back. I could get you one,” you said, trying to sound casual.

“A job offer, huh? I’m impressing you that much already?”

You felt yourself start to blush again, “No, uh, I just meant because you’re probably cold. It’s not good to stay in wet clothes. If you don’t want one that’s fine I just thought-”

He stopped your train of thought when he rested a hand on top of the one you had been using to scrub the same spot on the mug you had been scrubbing since you started talking, “I’d really appreciate that, Y/N. Now, set the poor mug down. It never did anything to you,” it could have been teasing, but it honestly didn’t sound like anything other than him trying to ease the tension you were so obviously feeling.

You nervously laughed and walked out of the kitchen to get the shirt, trying to avoid eye contact. Returning with what you hoped was the right size, you stepped into the kitchen still not looking at him, “I didn’t know what size you would want, but it was between this and a XS and that just seemed unrealistic.”

When you finally looked up you fully almost passed out. There was Rafe Cameron, in your cafe dish room, topless. He was standing over the drain on the ground, wringing out his other shirt. His biceps tensed with each twist of his arms and you swear you heard yourself gulp. He looked up at you as you finished talking, straightening up and giving you a full view of him. While you had run in different circles in high school, you weren’t blind. And you definitely weren’t stupid. Rafe had always been good-looking. This wasn’t a shock. It was completely a context thing. But that didn’t change the fact that suddenly your mouth had gone dry as you tried to somehow drink in the image of his entire body without coming off as some freak with zero social skills.

“Just toss it here, thanks,” he caught it with one hand (sexy) and slipped it over his head, doing that thing where boys shake out their hair after putting a shirt on, and smoothing it out over his chest and stomach. “Fits like a damn glove.” He shot back another one of those uncharacteristically enthused smiles before setting his wet shirt on top of the washing machine and getting back to work on the mugs. “Are you just gonna stand there, Y/L/N or are you gonna help me?”

You slowly made your way back over to him, too nervous to make any sudden movements. What if you just blinked for too long and suddenly he was gone? Finally getting back to work, you stood further away from him this time

“I don’t bite,” he whispered to you as he leaned in close to your ear.

Laughing nervously you scooted to the side a little closer, “Sorry. I’m just, surprised, that’s all.”

“Not everyday someone so good looking turns up at your door and offers you free labor?”

“I was more so thinking about it being you specifically, the ‘Outer Banks Playboy’ and all. This doesn’t really seem your speed,” you shrugged as you placed another dry mug on the rack.

He sighed, “Yeah, well, the outer banks playboy hasn’t really done me any favors recently. I think I’d much rather move at this speed.”

You scoffed, “I hate to break it to ya buddy but the speed you’re referring to might as well be a standstill. Nothing about this place has changed in the last 25 years and that includes the customers. I’d take Playboy over Groundhogs day any time. Much more glamorous.”

“I’m not so sure about glamorous, Y/N...you did hear me say that I’m completely broke, right? Doesn’t really scream luxury.”

You faltered, surprised that he brought this up again on his own accord. “I hope you don’t mind me asking,” You started after a pause, “But what happened that was so bad that your dad kicked you out in the middle of a tropical storm?”

Stopping his motions completely, he set the halfway dried mug down and sighed, closing his eyes, “To be honest, this happens like every week. Nothing really happens, it's just like, he remembers I exist and picks something to be mad about. This week it was because I didn’t go to college, one of his personal favorites,” He laughed in spite of himself and shook his head, focusing back on the mug, “The one thing that changed was that I couldn’t take it anymore. I just got on my bike and left. I’ve been staying at Top’s since but then his parents kicked me out after Ward told some lies about how useless I was and how they shouldn’t enable me...maybe they weren’t lies, but it’s still fucked.”

You had long since forgotten the mug you were supposed to be drying, too focused on looking up at him to make sure he wasn’t going to crack at any moment. He didn’t seem emotional about all this but that just made you even more nervous. You reached out to set your hand on top of his gently, a sign of camaraderie. “Rafe, that- that is so fucked up. I’m so sorry. I had heard stories about Ward but that...wow…”

“Pretty fucking unbelievable, huh?” He scoffed, “What a stand up guy. I haven’t even done anything to piss him off in months. He didn’t even notice that I stopped doing blow…”

You tried not to show any visible signs of that news shaking you to your core - you thought the coke addict thing had been a joke.

He shook his head and started working on the mug again, finishing off the last in your guys’ stock. “I don’t really know why I’m telling you all of this. I’d be super fucking weirded out if I were you...sorry about that.”

“I don’t mind,” You said sweetly, tossing your used towel in the hamper. “I don’t get a lot of company around here, so I take what I can get. Daddy issues be damned.”

He let out another one of those honest-to-God laughs again which you were relieved by. It was amazing how easy being with him was considering everything you had thought you had known about him. Some people really do change after high school, huh.

“You’re funny,” he remarked as he finished up laughing, swinging his towel over his shoulder and running his hands through his hair, “So...what’s next boss?”

“I still have some silverware to bag up but you really don’t have to help me, I’m a big girl I can handle it myself. Besides, you’ve had a long day of being homeless.” You joked, grabbing the silverware and setting up to sort them. He made no sign of moving. You rolled your eyes, “Rafe, I’m serious. I can get this done in like twenty minutes,” and turned away from him to focus on the task at hand.

Almost as soon as you were done talking though, he was already right beside you, “But if I help we can be done in ten. What kind of asshole would I be to let the beautiful girl I burdened with my presence work while I sat and did nothing?” And, with that, he pulled out another tray of silverware and got to sorting. All you could do was smile to yourself and try not to look at him. If you did you were sure you’d embarrass yourself with the blush and giant smile stretched across your face. This truly seemed like a dream. Too good to be true. It was no passionate affair, but it was more than enough for you. As you finished the silverware (he was right, it did take ten minutes), you found yourself hoping that the storm was raging even harder than before, with no signs of stopping.

Once you finished the last chore of the night, it was time to face the fact that it was too unsafe to travel anywhere for the time being. It was creeping further into the night and you’d be lying if you said you weren’t tired, but you would seriously be damned if you did anything to miss out on the absolute miracle unfolding before you. So, you tried to plow through it regardless of how completely exhausted you were.

Rafe was in the middle of trying to build a pyramid out of the menu cards from the tables while you sat opposite of him, rotating through the same three apps on your phone like you had been for the last 45 minutes when you let out the most dramatic yawn of your life.

The pyramid toppled over and Rafe sighed, “This is stupid. We need to talk about a game plan.”

“What-what do you mean?” You struggled to ask through your second yawn.

“You’re clearly exhausted so we should probably decide who is sleeping where since I doubt there’s going to be any chance I’m getting back on that bike any time within the next eight hours,” He paused to survey the small cafe, clearly trying to come up with a solution. “There’s a booth over in that corner that looks like it might work, and the stools at the counter have some cushions we could remove for pillows….I’m sure my shirt is probably dry by now for you to use as a blanket…”

“First of all, you can keep your shirt. Really, I’ll be fine,” You pretended to be annoyed but truthfully, the thought of curling up with something of his made you want to sob. “Second, I can just sleep on the floor. I’m the one that cleans it so I don’t really mind.”

He was already up and gathering the cushions off the stool, “Just shut up and let me be a gentleman. It’s handled.” And, before you could say no, he was arranging a couple of cushions on the booth, fluffing them for dramatics. “It’s beautiful.” Truthfully, it was a 25 year old glorified couch cushion with two paper thin cushions resting on top of it. But sure, beautiful would work.

“Well this is very sweet but I can’t let my guest sleep on the floor…”

“Guests are usually invited, I don’t think I count. Now! Into bed you go. You’ve had a long day.” He gestures towards the booth.

“Where are you going to sleep?” You asked tentatively, hoping he’d say right next you.

He shifted his weight back and forth between the heels and balls of his feet, “Erm, probably in that corner with the rug. Don’t worry, I saved a stool cushion for myself though.”

“This is so stupid-”

He put a finger on your lips and shushed you, your eyes surely popping out of your skull. Once he was sure you were done talking, he rested both of his hands on your shoulders, easing you down onto the booth. Convinced he had cast some sort of spell, you didn’t put up a resistance and sat down, still looking up at him with a stunned expression.

“What’s stupid is you refusing kindness from Rafe Cameron. People aren’t going to believe you when you tell them so you might as well milk it for all its worth, sweetheart,” His voice was a little breathier than before and your mouth seemingly had gone dry because of it.

Sweetheart. Shit.

When you didn’t say anything, he squeezed one of your shoulders and laughed to himself, “I’m trying this new thing where I put good in because I heard that’s how you get good out. How am I doing so far?”

You tried to speak but nothing came out at first which made you want to crawl in hole and die of embarrassment, but then you cleared your throat and nodded, “Um...yeah! So far so good.”

He smiled and straightened up (you already missed the feeling of his hands on your shoulders, on you period), “That’s what I like to hear. Well...I’m gonna turn off the lights and head over to my corner.” He paused for a second before turning around and then again before he got to the lights, this time turning back towards you, “Thank you, uh, again, for being so cool. Sorry for ruining your night.”

He turned the lights off.

You heard yourself halfway whispering “This has been one of the best nights of my life” before your eyes started to close on their own accord.

“Mine too,” you heard from an even quieter voice as something linen was draped gently across your back and shoulders.

And then it was quiet, and you fell asleep praying to God you wouldn’t wake up in your bed in the morning.

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

When you woke up suddenly, jolting straight up in bed - well, booth - after a particularly loud thunder clap you truly had no idea where you were or whose shirt was draped over your shoulder. It wasn’t until you heard a voice from a disembodied lump in the other corner that the memories of the previous four-ish hours hit you like a truck.

“You snore.”

It was pitch dark but you knew you were red as a beet. Death seemed preferable.

“Don’t worry, it’s the cute kind. Like the little ones, not the chainsaw ones.” There was a tenderness in his voice that would have made you fall over if you weren’t already sitting down.

“Is that why you’re still up? Because I was being loud? I’m so sorry-”

You heard him shift and groan, his body adjusting against the stone floors, “No, no. I wouldn’t have been able to sleep anyway. Too much going on up here, ya know,” he paused, “I’m uh pointing at my head...it’s dark.”

You let out a laugh and laid back against the cushion, “I kinda figured.”

“Yeah that was stupid I don’t know why I felt the need to clarify,” he laughed back.

A comfortable silence fell over you two for a moment once the laughter died out.

Before you could stop yourself, you whispered “Do you want to talk about it?”

He sighed and shifted again, “I’ve already kind of talked your ear off I think.”

“I don’t mind.”

When he didn’t respond immediately you started to get nervous that you had overstepped. You were just about to tell him to forget it, that he didn’t owe you any sort of explanation, when you heard what sounded like a sniffle. Rafe Cameron was fucking crying.

“It’s just uh,” you could tell he was trying to keep his voice even and your heart shattered, “I’m just tired of being the bad guy, I guess. I just wish I could do the right thing, ya know?” He paused, “Do you ever just- just you know, wish you could change everything about yourself?”

You turned on the booth towards the direction of his voice and sighed, “Every day of my life.”

He let out a wet, pathetic laugh, “Yeah. It sucks.”

Another pause, this time not so quiet as you heard him try to catch his breath.

“Rafe?”

“Yeah?” He sounded nervous.

“For what it’s worth, I don’t think you’re a bad guy.” The fondness you had discovered that you had for him was seemingly filling you up completely. Every corner of your body was full of it. You hoped he could hear it. You hoped he believed you.

“Thanks, sweetheart,” he said through another wet laugh, “But you might be the only one.”

This time, you didn’t say anything. Instead, you grabbed his shirt and the cushions he had used to make your bed and walked to where his voice was. The light from the security lamp on the corner of the building filtered through just barely so you can see the outline of his trembling body. There was a broken boy at your feet and you set the cushions down beside him, draping the shirt over him like he had for you and laid down next to him. It was intimate, your front pressed against his back as you held him through the cries he still was hoping you couldn’t hear, but that was it. You didn’t need or want anything besides him being able to feel the tenderness coming from you.

After a few moments he gave, turning to face you as he rested his head on your chest and let out a real sob. He grabbed onto you as if you could get up and go at any moment and your fingers threaded through his hair gently, doing anything you could think of to soothe him. He kept mumbling apologies to you but you just shushed him and held on tighter, trying not to let your own tears fall.

“I’m so sorry, Y/N,” he sobbed into your chest, your work shirt becoming soaked.

“You have nothing to be sorry for. Nothing at all.”

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

You don’t remember falling asleep, but when you woke up the events of the night before immediately popped in your head. Partly because they were arguably the most exciting things to happen to you in years, but also because it was sort of hard to forget with there was a sleeping boy on top of you.

His arms were wrapped around you and half on your side, half on your back, and fully uncomfortable. The stone had not been kind to your back, and the weight of 6’4” Rafe Cameron didn’t really help, but hell would freeze over before you dared move and disturb the peace before you. His eyelashes were so long they rested on the top of his cheek as he snored just the littlest bit, his bottom lip pouting out as he did so. The storm had caused his hair to get soaking wet just for it to dry chaotically around his forehead. It wasn’t his normal slicked back look, but rather unkempt and surfer-like. It was falling on his forehead perfectly and every time you breathed it shifted just the tiniest bit.

By some miracle it was a Sunday which meant you didn’t open until 10 am and judging by the way the sun was barely creeping above the ocean, you guessed it was probably somewhere between 7 and 8. You knew that eventually you both would have to move, but not yet. Please, God. Not yet. Because if he moved, that meant he would leave, and you weren’t prepared to cope with that kind of loss so early in the morning. Or ever, possibly.

It was almost embarrassing how much you cared about this boy that you were almost certain was a sociopath twenty four hours ago. But now it was as if everything had ever known had changed. Everything seemed brand new: The sun, the stone beneath your spine, the shape of his lips. This might have been some fluke that he would pretend never happened, but you knew in your heart that nothing could ever be the same for you after this. What a crushing blow to know that your life was able to change without your permission.

Before you could get too philosophical before noon, your worst fear was confirmed as you felt him shift. It was endearing to see him be so human in those first few moments of awake-ness. He removed himself from your skin, resting up on one of his elbows, as he wiped his eyes and tried to piece together exactly what had happened to make him end up in this very position. After he had looked around and decided he was in no mortal danger, his tired eyes fixed on you. They were still a little puffy from all of the crying, but they hadn’t lost the softness you caught yourself getting lost in.

“Good morning,” His voice was gravel in the morning and you jotted that down as a fun fact to bury deep in your memory in case you never got to hear it again.

“Good morning,” You couldn’t even bother to be embarrassed by how small your voice sounded. He was goddamn breathtaking this early in the morning.

He looked around again, shaking his head slightly as if to shake off the exhaustion, “What time even is it?”

“I’m not sure, my phone is dead, but I’m going to guess sometime before 8.”

To your surprise, his elbow dropped and he rested himself right back against you, nuzzling slightly, “Too early. Need sleep.”

You couldn’t help but chuckle as you apprehensively threaded your fingers through his hair, “I can’t argue with that logic, but the cafe does open in two hours and I think my smell might offend some of the customers.”

He put his face against your chest and sniffed slightly before resting his cheek again, “You smell great. Screw the customers.”

You wanted to stay there all day but there was just no way. If it wasn’t Fran and Neil banging on the door at 10 AM sharp like they do every Sunday, it was going to be your parents sending out a search party. You may be 20, but you still lived under their roof and they never let you forget it. “Rafe…”

Rolling over onto his back he sighed, “I know, I know. I should probably go.” He started to get up when you grabbed his shoulder and pushed him back down.

“No! No that’s, uh, that’s not what I meant. I mean, you don’t have to go anywhere. You can hang out here all day if you want for all I care. It’s a free country!” You were rambling. “I just need to get some clean clothes and shower before this six hour shift, that’s all.”

“Y/N, I’m not going to stay here while you go home. I think I’ve overstayed my welcome.” He started to get up again and this time you didn’t stop him, conceding to defeat. You were already burying this whole night deep in the recesses of your mind where the memories of it couldn’t hurt you when he held his hand out, “Need help up? That stone is a bitch.”

Once he had helped you up you both just sort of stopped and stared at each other for a moment before he cleared his throat and started to look around, “Besides, I uh have some things I need to take care of anyway.”

You nodded and crossed your over your chest, “Yeah, yeah I get it. Good luck, with everything.”

He nodded awkwardly back at you, “Thanks, I’ll, uh, need it,” He tried to laugh but it sounded so forced it just made you even sadder.

You were about to respond when he leant down and gave you the quickest kiss on the cheek known to man. Another awkward nod and he was turning on his heels towards the door. “I’ll see you around?” He asked as he swung the door open.

“You know where to find me.”

And with that, he was out the door and one his bike. You didn’t know where he was going, but it was away, and that was just enough to break your heart.

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

The rest of the day was torture. Your usual Sunday morning customers were not as charming as they usually were, the sun wasn’t bouncing off the coastline as it usually did, and the mundaneness of your life wasn’t as easy to ignore as it once was. After he had left you set the cushions back where they belonged and got into your car and headed home. Before you left though, you saw his shirt laying on the floor where your two bodies had shared sleep and you took it with you as you left. You knew it was best to forget that this had ever happened, but you’d do that after the smell of him mixed with the rain faded from the cotton. Upon returning home you were lectured by your parents for not telling them where you were, and during the middle of a storm, for crying out loud! But nothing they said had any meaning. You hated yourself for how melodramatic you felt, but you couldn’t help it. What were you supposed to do after a night like that? Move on? Seemed unrealistic, in all honesty.

You got ready for work and managed to trudge through the work day until close again. The cafe closed early on Sundays, thank God, so by 6:30 you were locking the doors and were back in the kitchen sorting silverware drying mugs (both of which made you want to cry whether you wanted to admit it or not) when you heard a bang on the glass doors out front. Scared out of your mind, you grabbed a dirty knife and slowly turned the corner. But when you saw the person on the other side of the door, the knife was forgotten as you dropped it and hurtled toward the lock.

As soon as Rafe saw you his face broke open, his smile just amplified by the sunsetting behind him. He was in different clothes now, but his hair looked the same and he looked so much happier than the last time you saw him. You fumbled with the lock until you finally got it, swinging the door open and letting in a giant current of ocean spray, wildflowers and him, him, him.

You couldn’t wipe the smile off your face but you tried to come off as casual anyway, “Back so soon? We’re closed you know...This time it actually is an imposition. If this is just your master plan to get free hot chocolate you are sorely mistaken sir.”

He waited for you to stop rambling to ask politely, that smile still all over his face, “Can I come in?”

You wordlessly moved out of the way as he stepped in and turned back to you.

“So what do I owe to this great pleasure? Did you forget something-”

But before you could get the whole sarcastic remark out, your lips were being crushed by something soft and desperate. His hands cupped either side of your face as he kissed you wildly. Your hands immediately found the nape of his neck and you leaned in even closer to him, trying to make it clear that he could wield you any way he wanted.

He pulled a part far too soon, his breath completely uneven in a way that made you feel like you were dreaming, “Uh yeah, actually. That. I forgot that.”

His hands were still on your face, yours still in his hair, “Well what took you so long then?” You laughed, just as breathless as him.

“I was too busy trying to convince my dad that I was a good person. It took a couple of hours, but I don’t think he hates me anymore. He reopened all of my cards and is letting me live in the guest house-”

“That’s great Rafe!”

“On one condition...” He sounded nervous, but the faintest trace of a smile still danced across his lips.

Your voice lowered, “I’m nervous.”

“I have to get a job…” He paused waiting for you to catch on, but you just stared blankly back at him. You were still reeling from that kiss. “And I guess I was hoping that this very cafe might be hiring?”

Your smile got even wider and your whole body felt like it was glowing, “You know what I think we are,” You all but giggled.

His hands fell to your hips where he squeezed slightly, laughter bubbling off his tongue, “Perfect! When can I interview?”

“Right now!” You enthusiastically pushed him into the chair behind him and he fell back less than gracefully. “Who is the best employee at this cafe?”

“Hmmmmm I don’t know, Y/N, you did give away free hot chocolate...That doesn’t seem very business conscious.”

“Do you want the job or not?” Your eyebrows raised at him as a warning.

He laughed again and looked up at you again and grabbed your hands, pulling you between his legs, “I think you are not only the best employee at this cafe, but the best looking employee at any cafe that has ever been built.”

You scoffed and threw one of his hands off yours, pushing his shoulder.

“So did I get the job?”

You looked down at him and smiled, unable to even pretend to be annoyed, “Well, Mr. Cameron, I have reviewed the facts and it looks like you’ll be the perfect fit. Luckily for you, flattery will get you everywhere.”

He smirked at you and pulled you into his lap, “Oh yeah? I like the sound of that.” His voice was slightly teasing but there was no mistaking his hot breath against your neck.

“Get your mind out of the gutter! I was strictly speaking professionally.” The blush was creeping all over your body when he pulled away.

“So was I, boss. What do you take me for?” He feigned hurt and you saw right through it.

Deciding to tease him right back, you raised an eyebrow and asked, “Do you seriously want me to answer that?”

With that he scoffed and rolled your eyes at you, giving up on your games. You laughed in his face and wrapped your arms back around his neck, assuring him you were just teasing. It didn’t take much convincing because soon he had forgiven you, his lips back on yours in an instant.

You went to sleep that night thanking your lucky stars for that worn down cafe and the tropical storm that brought him to you, still not being able to believe your luck. Sleep came for you as images of his smile fluttered past your eyelids, a smile permanently tattooed on your lips.

#rafe cameron #rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron fanfiction #obx #outer banks #rafemaybank wrote this #rafe cameron fluff

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bssangwook · 4 years ago

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hey everyone! i’m jane and i’m in the gmt+1 timezone and my pronouns are she/her! i’m happy to be writing with all of you and i had been looking forward to join this place for a while - but I think we are all equally excited! let me give you a little introduction of sangwook so that you don’t have to weed through my horrible pages, but if you’d like to take a peek at them, this is what i have to offer to you: background, profile, headcanons (under construction), plots & wanted connections (under construction as well...) anyway, here we go! +++ if you’d like to plot, please leave me a like or a comment and i will hit you up, if you’d like to just add my discord feel free to add egg#1222 and we can talk on there!

( OC, christopher bang, he/him ) — introducing BYUN SANGWOOK, the 24 year old FARMER, known around boseong as THE HELPING HAND. the residents would describe him as worn down clothes that don’t quite fit, a smudge of dirt on his face and locked doors & windows at night.

basics

name: byun sangwook - sangwook meaning to rise with the sun and he’s supposed to get up early every morning as a farmer, his parents really knew what they were doing--

age: 24

occupation: farmer at his family farm, sells produce at the market.

the most important random fact: he is very superstitious. he thinks the entire town is cursed and he *will* light incense for y’all to not get eaten by ghosts...

pre-established connections: @bsgyuri is his bff and they might be snooping around - but he does it mostly for her because he’s certainly spooked out.

background

sangwook was born in boseong since his parents had moved to the small town as a newlywed couple. they were making their dream of owning their own land and cozy little home a reality.

since he was a little boy, he always helped out his parents with farm, slowly picking up on how everything worked, preparing for his adulthood and the day he would have to take over - sadly, that day came quicker than expected, when his father passed away from sickness when sangwook was sixteen years old.

since then, his mother has started to act slightly odd as well, the passing of her husband doing a lot of damage, and now the strange happenings around town are just fueling her paranoia which in return is just making sangwook feel more on edge.

characteristics

sangwook is a relatively simple man. he likes to help others and doesn’t have a whole lot to say, he prefers to listen.

wouldn’t say that he is exactly book-smart, he isn’t dumb either but his knowledge definitely revolves more around vegetables than anything else...

he’s polite and nice to most people and usually doesn’t like to start fights as he’s not the best with words - so for him, discussing doesn’t make much sense.

even though it is hard work, he enjoys what he does daily - he knows that he is doing his mother a big favor and is securing his own future in boseong, so to him he’s definitely doing a good deed.

if anyone ever needs a favor or a shoulder to lean on, he will be there - however it is also easy for him to hold a grudge against someone else if one of his friends doesn’t get along with certain person as he can be quite naive.

he can be quite impulsive and do things on a whim if that means it’ll make someone else happy.

#bsintro #his head is literally filled with potatoes dont even ask

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deathbled · 4 years ago

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zephyrus ( genshin impact ) info drop.

snezhnayan who was granted pyro vision by murata when he was sixteen

orphaned at a young age and doesn’t know who his parents were

doesn’t know why but has high body temperature; is able to walk around the snezhnayan landscape in a tanktop and barely feeling cold

it does take a toll after a while on his body but he usually ignores it until he can’t move for a few days and has to rest

literally everyone who’s ever met him still wonders how he’s still alive especially since he just passes out outside

sweet and cares about people but also an impulsive, reckless dumbass

somehow manages to be smart & dumb at the same time

like to feel in charge and generally wishes for more power which in return caused him to favor fighting battles more and more and generally crave for battle

doesn’t talk about his past and probably never will

claymore user

doesn’t understand life itself half the time and because of that goes with the flow until something annoys him enough to have him lose his temper

never really had friends and doesn’t know what it feels like

has only ever known what it feels like to be used for someone elses gain and to be betrayed for the smallest things that can make life easier

it’s part of why he feels the need to be stronger than other people

absolutely despises feeling vulnerable and would never allow himself to be so

cares a lot but is absolutely horrendous at showing it

#the way i'm gonna have to watch every genshin playthrough ever #* ZEPHYRUS TBT !#* BURN IT WITH MY WOUNDED HEARTBEAT ( zephyrus )

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suffering-and-happy-about-it · 5 years ago

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Favored Ones, Part 2. (Joel Miller x Fem!reader)

Description: When you spend every evening with someone who's deeply under your skin, a certain relationship can be developed. So it's crushing for Joel when Y/N suddenly disappears. But there's way more to the relationship that one would've guessed.

A/N: AM I STARTING TO FALL FOR THIS FIC? OMG STOP ME? SEND HELP.

Warnings: Ain’t much, but it is honest work.

Word count: 2.1 K

Tagging: @nemodoren @xxgoldenhour @missdictatorme

If you like this story, please, more parts can be found here! :): H E R E

Six months prior events of the hunt, April 2038:

You never thought of an ideal man or that ideal life, having some children of your own or whatever. You never thought of that American dream, if you want to address it like that. The new American dream, most likely the global dream when you think about it, was to survive all of the bullshit that keeps coming.

But sometimes, you start to be curious about someone without you even noticing your behavior. You try to have much longer eye contact with them, laughing at those pretty dumb jokes and sayings they used. You tried to be in their presence every time you possibly could.

Sometimes it gets pretty crazy as you start to understand your behavior and your feelings - and the worse it actually is when you feel soft for is a complete moron.

And so, that's how your terrible crush on Joel Miller, local old jackass, started.

You could exactly name the year, month, day and hour when he and his daughter of some sort, now your best friend Ellie, came into your life. The first time you saw him, you thought to yourself that he is just a typical cynical old moron - and that you had already enough of these in your town.

Something moved inside of you when you took Sadie for a short walk around Jackson - and he was sitting on the terrace, smiling at Ellie and playing a slow song on some old guitar the others gave him.

Ellie just sat there, curled into a tight ball with a bar of beer in her hand, as soon as she saw you, she jumped on her feet and joined you on your walk - that was a year ago. And since that, you watched his face intensely during every tactical meeting about visiting a city, you smirked when he said something which was ironical and whenever there was an option to go out with his little kindergarten, you were there on your horse with your knife behind your belt.

Did he even know who you were except that you were going out to the forests with him? Oh, dear, that is a story worth telling.

Joel didn't let you know, but he remembered your face really well - you were, of course, Y/N, Ellie’s' loudest and most impulsive friend she had until that day. You were a pain in his ass every time he was scheduled to go out with you. No matter how good you were with a knife (and let me say that you saved his ass a few times when Clicker was about to crack his head up), you still acted like an annoying little brat.

He would never say that he hates you, no. But he would never say that he likes you. You just existed by his side in the city he was living in, that was all that he cared about.

And you were sure that the feelings will disappear sooner or later, it was just a dumb guy and that situation was ridiculous. But as January and February passed away, nothing changed.

So there you were, sitting next to Sadie in the grass, eating an apple, chatting with Ellie and watching after Joel’s kindergarten of the young people he was teaching about surviving. There were a few boys around sixteen, which was almost ten years younger than you, who were just dicks.

The only thing they were doing there was trying to get your attention because you were indeed an interesting girl, and to annoy the old man. You were there to enjoy the feeling of freedom and nature around you.

“And what about Y/N?” - One boy turned his face to look at you. They were talking about bows, how to catch the chord the best way, the angles of shooting and the power needed. They completely threw you off rails, because you sat next to Ellie in the back, talking about how much you are looking forward to the sweet potatoes which should be ready to be reaped next month.

“I bet she could show us some of that bow shooting, couldn't she?” - Another one said and you felt on your tongue as you wanted to tell them to shut the fuck up.

“Leave her be. She cant shoot from a bow. But if you will shut your mouth and watch, maybe you'll be able to shoot yourself, son.” - Joel mumbled in his deep voice, not even looking up to you.

Your cheeks went red as you furrowed at that man. What a rude jackass move. Yeah, maybe you weren’t able to shoot from a bow, nobody had ever taught you how to, but you were a fucking psycho with a knife. And Joel knew it.

“Jesus Christ, fuck him. That wasn't polite to me at all.” - You said to Ellie when you rode on Sadie’s back at the end of your small caravan. - “And I should be practically bowing in front of that guy? Fuck that too.” - You spoke fast and quietly so Joel couldn’t understand you.

“Come on, baby. You know that Joel didn’t mean that you’re not good enough. You know he’s not good with his words.” - Ellie rolled her eyes to the back of her head, only laughing at your situation.

“Maybe. But this is the third time something like that happened - and third time’s the charm. I will need someone who will teach me, how to shoot from a bow.” - You rose your eyebrows. That was the most devilish plan ever. - “And then I will have a competition with Joel. We will see who is the worse one.”

“Good luck then. The only people who can shoot from a bow is me, Joel and Jesse.” - Ellie looking behind her and chuckled again. - “Like... More people can do something with a bow, but I would definitely not call that shooting.”

Well, fuck you then. You couldn’t stand when Jesse was trying to teach you something because he spoke to you like you were fucking five - so every time he started with THAT tone of his voice, you were ready to explode. Ellie could teach you some things, maybe, but she would make a pure comedy out of that. Your tummy would constantly hurt from laughter. So the only rational option at the moment was Joel.

And you didn't fucking know if that’s the worst thing that could happen or if it is the best thing ever. You couldn’t but smile at the thought of Joel teaching you how to shoot, so the student could overcome its professor in the end.

So you were trying to raise the courage in you for the next two days and let me say that it wasn’t anything easy. Only after a shot of vodka which Jesse had hidden under his bed you could just come up to Joel’s door and knock on it. Ellie wasn’t at home that day - you were about to meet up with her that evening to have a watch on the city’s walls.

Right now, she went for her newly sewed, repaired pants to Mrs. Jefferson to the end of the town, which should take her something about half an hour. Enough time for you to ask Joel the information needed.

“What the hell are you doing at my doorstep?” - Joel asked even before he opened the door and watched you down with a silent stare. - “Something happened? You won’t make it in the next session in the forest?” - He was asking you, but he only did that for decency’s sake; he did not care at all.

“No, I was thinking about the bows.” - You said in the same tone of voice. You were staring each other down like the looks could kill. This was clearly competition for you - and you didn't mean to lose. You had to show Joel that you weren’t weak at all.

“Oh. The bows.” - Joel furrowed you like you were a fucking psycho. He was fucking lost when it came to you - your run of thoughts was a mystery to Joel. - “What about the bows? What’s wrong with them?”

Damn, you two were acting like children. You spoke in weird sentences and you felt like nothing was making too much sense when you spoke with Joel.

“I can’t shoot from it. That’s what’s wrong with them.”

“Oh. Okay. Why should I care?” - Joel raised his eyebrows. You nodded and raised your eyebrows, making a thoughtful face at him.

“You should care because I need a teacher.” - That was when you smiled at him. You didn't drink so often, so the vodka made you hella loose. Maybe it was way more than one shot, you didn't have a single idea how stupid are you going to behave. So far so good, you thought to yourself.

“So that is what you came here to tell me?” - Joel hugged the doorframe with one of his huge palms and looked you in the face. - “I should find you a teacher? Girl, I think that you’re a bit confused because I’m hella sure that finding you a teacher isn’t my job at all.”

“Oh, I did not mean that you should find me someone who will be teaching me, hot to shoot an arrow.” - You giggled and shoved a trickle of your hair behind your each. - “I want you to be my teacher.” - That’s what made Joel sincerely laugh.

You silently prepared yourself for Joel saying you to fuck off. He was so close to it, yet it seemed that you really are into learning about bows.

“Yeah. Fine. Tomorrow, seven in the morning, the gates. Be there on time, young blood.” - Joel smiled and closed the door, leaving you there. But you started to smile when you realized that you will have scheduled alone time with Joel himself. Even though he was a total asshole at times, it made your day.

The next morning, you were there even ten minutes sooner - and Joel came ten minutes later. He just let you sit there for twenty minutes. Motherfucker. Maybe he hoped that you will change your mind - but you had your goals set straight.

You could see that he’s still a bit sleepy, but his beard was cut short again - it was there, but it was way shorter. People with crushes notice such bullshits, that’s normal, don’t worry.

“I got a present for you.” - Joel said in a cold, raspy voice and you excitedly opened your eyes. - “It ain't much, but at least it’s something.”

With that, he gave you a completely normal, training bow. Everybody always only borrowed them, but he was giving you one of your own. - “But if you will not take the training seriously, I will take it away from you.”

With that, you just left Jackson. He took you on nearby training grounds - the first day you ever tried it was terrible. You basically didn't shoot once from that bad boy - arrows just fell down from your palms and Joel knew that he’s going to need a lot of patience with you.

The first weeks were not that enjoyable as well - he had such a jackass rude commentary to your actions and you just tried to murder him with your stares, still thinking that he is sexy as fucking hell.

But one day, the fall was just about to start, it somehow broke down and you started to joke around. Your skills were getting better faster and faster - soon enough, you could shoot from fairly far away and you didn’t miss most of the time, which made Joel enjoy your lessons even more.

As another month passed, he decided that it is the right time to start hunting with you in the forest. These ones were moving, but you adjust over time. And sometimes, you even hunted something down - like a squirrel, a hare or a rabbit.

You weren't that bad after all - he pretty much liked talking to you most of the time. And even if you were sometimes loud and impulsive, you could be smart when the situation needed it. But you weren't exactly his most favorite person on the planet still.

And you were slowly realizing that this surreal crush isn’t going away anytime soon because you made it just worse for your own fucking sake.

#joel miller #joel tlou #joel x reader #joel x y/n #the last of us #ellie tlou #ellie williams #the last of us imagine #joel miller imagine

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etraytin · 4 years ago

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Quarantine, Day 129

July 18

I'm feeling extra tired tonight and I'm not sure why. Just kind of run down, I guess, or maybe feeling one of those bouts of ennui that sometimes sweep in when you've had too many of the same day in a row. Maybe it's because I started MPRE study today and it reminds me that I really need to get a job even though I have no idea what school is going to look like this year or even what searching for a job will be like or who is hiring. It's just easier not to think about that stuff whenever possible, but at some point I'm going to flop face-first into all of it and I'm going to have to deal. And that is a depressing thought.

Good news this evening on the kitten front; all four kittens were accounted for at feeding time tonight. At first it was only the same two tabbies as last night and I was worried, but then the third tabby and the tuxie joined in and they all ate like tiny starving wolves. Mama didn't show up at all, which was a little weird, but I guess I can try and trap her separately if I really have to. The kittens are much bolder and more foolish when she isn't around, so that would make them easier to get in the drop trap all at once. I've inched the food a little further away from the storm drain to get them used to coming out for it, but at the same time I don't want them coming out too far and attracting attention from people in the parking lot. That just makes things more complicated. Day after tomorrow is trap day!

The kiddo played Minecraft most of the day, with mixed results. When he is having fun with Minecraft he has a lot of fun, but when it is bad, he is super-frustrated. Today he managed to both blow himself up with some misplaced TNT and bork his entire world by doing a command line to give himself 1000000 rockets instead of 100. Hopefully this sort of experience helps him learn to cope with frustration in productive ways, but right now it's just unpleasant for everyone. I was able to commiserate at least, having rage-quite Minecraft several times myself over various misfortunes. The thing about Minecraft, though, is that it is always there and you always go back to it eventually.

Tomorrow is grocery day again, or rather, a few groceries and a lot of school supplies. Last year Walmart did not offer school supplies for grocery pickup, but this year they are, even the rollback stuff. Assuming it works and is not all just unavailable tomorrow, that will be very excellent! We still don't know what school is going to look like, but I figure I can safely assume that notebooks, pencils, glue sticks, etc will all still be required. And I simply cannot resist a good twenty-five cent notebook! I'm also getting all the snacks that will be required for our trip. The idea of going anywhere is kind of scary, especially on a trip that is very likely to require an overnight in a hotel room. It's funny because six months ago we spent ten days in a hotel room at Christmas with my folks and it was great because we had our own space to spread out, a pool and unlimited hot water. Now I don't want to even overnight in one. But sixteen hours really is a very long time to drive all in one day.

I heard on my local community group that Virginia Beach's titular beachfront got shut down today because of too many people on the beach. I am at once rolling my eyes and grumbling that people are morons and admitting to myself that I understand the impulse. The guys have gone to the beach twice since we got back, though they have gone during less popular hours and to less popular beaches where there are not many people. Not everybody really has that option, and the beach in VA Beach is beautiful, especially when the weather is so hot and muggy. And most people did not have the chance that the kiddo and I did to decamp to a privately-owned island back in March to wait out the first days of the pandemic on a beautiful and practically empty beach (also empty because the ocean is _cold_ in March, but the beach is still fun!) Being safe without going crazy is a luxury that varies wildly with your financial and family situation. We personally do not have a lot but we still have the main breadwinner's job, one that can be done remotely. We also have families with greater resources than us who can backstop us and help out, as well as provide other places to go and still be relatively safe.

It doesn't keep me from judging entirely when I see people doing objectively dumb things, but I'm trying to remember compassion and empathy as well. Back when I ran the soup kitchen, I would get incredibly frustrated by people who would intimate (rarely say aloud, because we were all pious churchgoing folk) that most people who needed our services were there because they made bad choices and if they would just do x, y and z, they could better themselves in no time. And of course maybe x, y and z would help, but how do you do any of those things when you don't have a home, or a healthy mind or body, or if you're so deep into an addiction you can't see a way out, or you have a criminal record that will keep you from ever being a real part of society again? You can't know what people are going through unless you're willing to sit down with them and hear them and actually try to understand. Sometimes all you can do is give them a hot meal and a smile and some human contact they don't have to sacrifice their dignity to get.

I don't know why the people go to the beach, or the bar, or the dine-in restaurant. I don't know if it's their only outing in months, or if they're at the end of their rope from staying indoors, or if they're just desperate for things to not feel so bad and scary all the time. I suspect that many of them do it because they are willfully ignoring the risk, which is not great. I absolutely think they ought to be wearing masks because that is an easy way to help yourself and others. But the only person whose heart I really know is myself, so it behooves me not to pretend like I know why other people do things that seem foolish and risky. So I'm glad they closed the beach today, but I'm going to try and do better about judging the people who went there.

In slightly related news, my sixteenth wedding anniversary is next week. I am feeling kind of bummed about the extremely limited date options available to us, but it'll be okay. Honestly, I suspect that if we gave the kiddo his own pizza and pop and unlimited screentime for the evening, he would happily babysit himself in his room and allow us a romantic living room date. But I think we may just have takeout for three and a raincheck for when things are not quite so strange.

#quarantine #covid life #feral kittens #anniversary

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mythicvls · 4 years ago

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WHAT’S CRACK’A’LACKIN Y'ALL ?!?! my name’s sun AND i live in the cst time zone. ( T E X A S BBY 🤠 ) i hope ya’ll are all having a good day, afternoon, night !! whatever time it may be where you are out there in the WORLD. sorry i’m a bit late but i’m super excited to get this show on a roll. <3333 . i suck at intros, so pls bear with me., buuuuut !! i’ll be introducing, brianna and leo . one is your crazy inventor who works in the forge, and the other is your uptight hero who is obsessed with doing everything by the book. if you wanna know more about them, check out what’s below !! like this and i’ll go to your messages to spam u with love. THANKS .

♡ —— MEET BRIANNA !!

[ PARK CHAEYOUNG, SHE/HER, CISFEMALE ] — [ BRIANNA BANG ] is a child of [ HEPHAESTUS ] with the power of [ TECHNOKINESIS & ENHANCED CRAFTING ] . they were born in [ 1997 ] and have been in nemean lion since [ 2013 ] . with the change, they [ HAVE GRADUATED FROM ] the [ TECHNOLOGY ] role which makes sense since they’re usually [ CREATING NEW GADGETS & GETTING OTHERS TO TEST THEM OUT ]

( ABOUT PAGE )

its ya girl , brianna bora bang !! aka bree !! daughter of hephaestus and one of the smiths who works in the forge .

growing up, bree’s childhood was relatively calm and uneventful. she was raised by her single-mother, who worked as a mechanic and though they didn’t have much , her mom still managed to get by , supporting them both the best she could. :’))

tbh, bree didn’t think a lot about her family’s financial situation when she was little. though, with that said, she was a bit of a pain.

not because she asked for, or constantly wanted material things, but rather, from a young age she had a knack for taking stuff apart and trying to put them back together again. fascinated by figuring out how certain devices worked.

that habit eventually turned into bree taking things around the house, and makings ‘ improvements’ or crafting something completely new with the different parts she’d collected from items lying about.

her mother living pay check to paycheck , was certainly in awe of brianna’s talents, but the young girl’s creative outlet definitely caused some strESS !!

as one can imagine, she got in a lot of trouble as a kid. having a bit of a mischievous streak coupled along with her curious and imaginative tendencies. her mom wasn’t too happy when she came home to find the vacuum deconstructed , with brianna claiming there was a certain component she needed for the jet pack she was planning on creating

throughout her life, bree was always gathering attention, whether is was due to her odd personality, or the things she was creating. however she was especially attracting people’s attention when it came to the science fairs she enjoyed participating in while she’d been in elementary and middle school --- bringing something completely unexpected to ANNIHILATE ( as she would say ) the competition.

but, brianna created so much buzz, it wasn’t uncommon for her to end up in local news papers as a young ‘genuis’.

one time, even recruits from MIT came to check out to see what all the talk had been about.

when expressing their interest in her, her mother politely declined their offers. thinking bree may have been too young to consider making decisions like that at the time.

[ yet, because of the news circulating bree, nl had been another group to approach her mom, along with hephaestus in hopes to provide brianna a safe haven from the potential threat of monsters (etc.), though her mother also refused that offer at the time ]

SO basically, bree just vibed through her early years creating a bit of mischief and making cool stuff with her handy dandy tool box ( or more like her mom’s tool box lmfao)

she went about every day life as a regular kid, completely unaware of her relation to hephaestus until she neared the age of sixteen.

as she got a bit older, her mother fell in love with a pretty well-off guy who worked as an developmental engineer for the united states milt.. they got married and brianna then had a new step father in her life. despite him being much more strict with her. more than what her mom had ever been , they all got along pretty well. more than anything , bree was jus happy for her mom.

and, it was a plus that they weren’t struggling as much as they originally had been thanks to his financial help.

however, due to an unfortunate turn of events , and a christmas tree having caught fire; their house burnt down. her mom and her stepfather were rescued by the fire department. unfortunately the same couldn’t be said for bree. watching the house engulfed in flames, they worried frantically about their daughter who’d still been trapped inside. but when bree had escaped through the fire by herself , uninjured and not suffering any burns whats so ever. her step-father , along with the fire fighters that had come to help , were hELLA FREAKED OUT.

her step-dad was straight up like, i don’t fuk w demons.

and it was after the incident that her mother finally revealed the truth to bree about her biological father, and eventually gave her the option of going to nemean lion. which was information brianna’s mom had for quite some time, but had chosen to keep it to herself , simply cause she wasn’t 100% comfortable with bree leaving her so young.

THANK GOODNESS THEY NEVER EXPERIENCED A MONSTER ATTACK.

though with what had happened, and her step father’s reaction, bree and her mother came to the agreement that it was probably best if she left for nl.

she eventually moved in after a couple months of trying to make things work at home ( a compromise she made with her mom ). it didn’t work out sadly, and as soon as she turned sixteen, brianna became an official resident at the hotel. having stayed at nemean until now !!

when she first got to nl she pretty much just embraced the change. throwing herself into training and what not, trying to figure out where her place was , all that teenage stuff. ‘tryina find urself uwu’ .

AND she did go on missions quite a bit before the change happened !! having enjoyed tagging along to make some extra money, but her obvious calling was always at the forge.

brianna now and before, has always had a reputation for walking around nl trying to convince people to give her latest weapons or gadgets a go !!

before the change happened at nl, bree was sorta all over the place. ( A MESS !! ) but her goals have become more focused thanks to entering the technology track. so once again, she embraced change with open arms.

she’s totally digging the improvement that nemean lion has made.

after graduating from her track relatively fast; working on stuff is what she mainly does nowadays.

she’s most often found at the forge. cause when she gets an idea, she’s gotta get it done. she has no chill.

yeah, brianna is smart. but on the highkey, she’s only really knowledgeable in her field of expertise.

SO, SHE DOES HAVE THAT CHAOTIC STUPID ENERGY COURSING THROUGH HER VEINS. if you ask her to do something dumb, she more then likely is gonna be down / say yes. skdjlfsjd

though bree isn’t necessarily materialistic, she is kinda obsessed with money, and making money. $$$$🤑🤑 part of it has to do with not having had much growing up, and she wants that security YA KNO. but also , she doesn’t feel totally comfortable asking her mom/step-dad for money. so she out here making her own!!

money is a big motivator for her.

overall, brianna is a brash, outgoing, oddball who is incredibly determined and hardworking.

cause she’s always tryina get that promo, she can come off a bit opportunistic, selfish, and conceited when it comes to her inventions. typically she means well, she’s just a bit on the crazy side.

she has those mad scientist vibes.

POSSIBLE CONNECTIONS !!

first friend brianna made at nl ( someone who was around in 2013 )

people she often trained with / went on missions with before the change happened

friends she’s known for a while here at nemean lion

loyal customers who commission weapons ( etc.) from her regularly. cause she likes you, she’s always down to give you a good deal.

double trouble --- just two chaotic souls, come together to do fun shenanigans.

other people who work at the forge with her

brianna’s go to guinea pigs !! basically she goes to ya’ll when she comes up with a spicey new gadget, weapon, invention, knowing ya’ll are almost always game to get your hands on what she’s got for you.

impulse control --- pretty self explanatory, this person just settles her down. probably a mom friend who keeps her from doing dumb impulsive things.

people she just bothers bc she’s got a cool idea for you, but maybe you’re just like nah.

this person has been on the end of one of brianna’s failed inventions that didn’t turn out so hot. so now you REFUSE to try anything for her again.

people in the ambassador track she is constantly trying to get seen with her gadgets for that promo. she really wants to sell her inventions / sell her patents to big companies. $$

exes !! maybe there was DRAMA, or maybe it was a super chill split. if you wanna snatch this up, we can really do whatever ur vibin’.

enemies

frenemies

a mentor when she first arrived at nl ( someone who was around in 2013 ) they really helped her have an easier time adjusting to everything when she moved in at sixteen.

♡ —— MEET LEO !!

[ KIM DOYOUNG, HE/HIM, CISMALE ] — [ LEO PARK ] is a child of [ ATHENA ] with the power of [ ENHANCED OBSERVING & ENHANCED STRATEGY ] . they were born in [ 1996 ] and have been in nemean lion since [ 2011 ] . with the change, they [ HAVE GRADUATED FROM ] the [ HERO ] role which makes sense since they’re usually [ TRAINING or READING IN THE LIBRARY ]

( ABOUT PAGE )

the son of athena, and a graduate from the hero track !!

honestly, leo’s life before nl was pretty boring.

he grew up in a super small town and was raised by his grandparents after his dad pretty much bailed .

leo was an incredibly bright kid. he learned to read as well as write at a crazy young age, but because he was brought up by his grandparents his taste pretty much reflected his upbringing. he likes super old music, movies. etc. and he’ prefers considerably less exciting pass times such as reading books or playing games like chess. he always goes for a walk super early in the morning too which is something he picked up from his grandpa.

leo’s grandparents took care him when he was very little, but as leo grew older he found himself returning the favor and instead helping his grandparents as they themselves aged over the years.

no one in his household was aware of leo’s ties to his biological mother athena. mainly cause his father never explained anything before he left the family to be on their own.

leo’s life dramatically changed after he experienced a monster attack when he’d been fifteen years old.

basically some demigods from nemean lion saved the day and thankfully nothing terrible happened. but leo’s identity as a demigod was finally exposed to himself and to his family.

he had a really hard time saying goodbye, as he worried how his grandma and grandpa were gonna do without him. however, he feared putting them in danger above all else.

he was then taken to nl, where he spent his time up until now.

after he was rescued, leo couldn’t help but look up to the others who regularly went on missions and hunted monsters. naturally, he worked hard with the aspiration to be like them.

a lot of that also had to do with why he picked the hero track when the change had come about at nl.

if it wasn’t for moving, leo would have never realized his supernatural abilities. and it was through persistence and intense training that he was able to develop his powers over time, as well as pretty fast.

he has always been incredibly dedicated and disciplined.

tbh he kinda has those old man vibes, even when he first arrived at fifteen.

he takes missions and everything a little too seriously.

he doesn’t really know how to have fun either. so when he is on hero duty, he is super STUBBORN about doing everything by the book. trying not to get too crazy and always wanting to make sure extra precaution is taken.

he’s not about them risk. he really wants to ensure that there’s little to no damage that will be done if he can help it.

comes off grumpy most of the time, but it’s like 95% bc he kinda just sucks when it comes to people.

social interaction is not his thing which is why he could have NEVER gone into the ambassador track lmfao.

LEO IS A RULE FOLLOWER, NOT A BREAKER.

though he’s diligent, responsible and honest, he can also be EXTREMELY gullible, too straightforward, and at times, come off as nagging or bossy.

overall, he just wants justice, and to ensure things are done right. but he’s not the best communicator, so instead of being diplomatic about it, a lot of the time he’s just like, ‘i’m right, you’re wrong’dkjsldjf

POSSIBLE CONNECTIONS !!

people leo has known or been friends with for a while

other demigods who he used to train with or currently trains with regularly

( friendly ?? ) competition --- likely another hero who has graduated from the hero track

someone currently training in the hero track who has asked to shadow leo ( BONUS POINTS IF THEY ARE CHAOTIC AND LEO IS DESPERATELY TRYING TO WRANGLE THEM IN FROM THEIR WILD WAYS, ESPECIALLY WHILE THEY ARE OUT DOING HERO TINGZ )

the demigods who saved leo when he was fifteen ( someone who was around nl in 2011 / before )

unexpected duo----no one would have thought these two would be super close. after all, they are polar opposites, but this person gets leo to come out of his shell

leo is super uptight, and because of that, this person enjoys messing with him.

another person that frequents library just as much as him

maybe leo lowkey has beef with someone because every time he wants to check out a book, the mysterious person ‘insert muses name’ always has checked it out before him. one day when he’s talking about it, he finds out it’s YOU!!!!!!! how it plays out is up to whatever u’re feelin. but turns out they have the same taste in books.

other people that are also uptight like leo and that’s why they get along so well

enemies---for whatever reason the two don’t mix

someone leo has an unrequited crush on , bc he’s lame

#nlintro #・⨯˚ 💖 ooc ⤻ 𝘪 𝘸𝘢𝘯𝘯𝘢 𝘣𝘦 𝘢 𝘤𝘰𝘸𝘣𝘰𝘺 𝘣𝘢𝘣𝘺 .#this is kind of a mess #im also sorry this got heLLA LONG!!!!!!#but i'm super excited yalll #pls excuss all my typos its very late where i am #uwu <3333

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