#forgot if I posted this one already so here you go :)

[nervoushottee]

Casual | Steve Harrington x Fem!Reader

Summary: To you, what you and Steve had felt like coming home but to him? It was only just casual.

Warnings: 18+ MNDI, S1 King Steve (asshole), implied sex, descriptions of sex but not in detail, ANGST, Steve being a piece of shit, I think I gave Carol the wrong last name?

Notes: I love Chappel Roan’s “Casual”. Always have and always will. One day a few months ago when listening to the song I literally thought about this fic and just wrote crap on paper and forgot about it. Months later and here it is! I haven’t wrote for Steve in a long time so please bear with me if it’s rusty. This fic is inspired by a oc fic that I’m writing for a Canon Stranger Things store but Oc’s are always so hardddd to write compared to Reader. So there are some plot points used from that story to add in this story because it just felt right.

please enjoy! Not edited

(I know I know! This isn’t what you want for me to post! The Jesse fic IS being worked but very slowly due to my feelings with the S2 potrayal so bear with me on that!)

You and Steve have always been around each other—like a tether or an invisible string guiding you together. You live two houses down and one across from him, you’re in the same friend group. You’re a cheerleader and he’s on the basketball team. The both of you were causally and unintentionally tied to the hip.

So it only makes sense when the two of you fuck one night when Steve’s parents aren’t home.

Steve was bored—that’s what he told you over the phone a couple hours before. With a playful groan and a promise of a joint, you shove some sweats and sneakers and make the short walk to his house.

Another thing that the two of you so casually have in common—being an abandoned child.. Father kicked it years ago with the stupid and overused milk scene; Mother drowns herself in liquor that when she’s sober it’s scary. You should hate her, want her to show up more in your life but you’re not…not really.

When she slurs her speech with how much she loves the man who left her years ago and tries to find him again and again in old rich men—you can’t help but feel bad for her. You can’t help but hope and pray that you’ll never be like her: a shell of a woman constantly heartbroken from the one that got away.

Despite her absence and the (many) rich boyfriends in a suit that she drags to meet you—then cry her eyes out when it’s over, you have a roof over your head and money in your pocket. The last guy she dated was able to upgrade the television set in the living room. The guy two guys before that one fixed the pool that hadn’t been working for three years straight (you would use Steve’s anyways). That is what’s different between you and Steve.

Steve’s parents are rarely ever home. Business trips or vacations is what they call them but from what Steve told you, he knows it’s mostly his father having a business meeting or whatever and his mother tagging along be every time she didn’t, his father would go and cheat with a younger version of her. Despite Steve’s nonchalant attitude toward it whenever it’s brought up with Tommy and Carol, you know Steve better than that.

It was nights like these when Steve “bored” out of his mind and calling you to come to his or he’d go to yours—Steve would whisper out the feelings that were hidden inside of him. When the joint was down to its last hit or the beer too warm to drink anymore on a warm night. Or even if it was just a little too quiet and a little too comfortable. The two of you would bring out all of the skeletons you kept deep in the closet.

It was a mutual understanding between you both to keep it to yourself. Despite not being more than good friends, the weight of the conversations you shared meant more to you than just that.

Shaking your head, you scoff playfully as you see Steve already standing in the drive. His hands placed on his hip and his foot tapping on the cement. If you didn’t know any better, you would have thought Steve was a disappointed mother rather than your cute friend.

Of course you think Steve is cute—who fucking wouldn’t? You still keep it to yourself though.

He taps his hands on his wrist, his eyebrows furrowed in disappoint, “Do you know what time it is young lady? For you to go out this late and come to a boys house of all things is just unacceptable.”

You roll your eyes as you walk toward him. “Sorry mom, it won’t happen again.”

“You bet your ass it won’t.” he says sternly, as you stop a foot or so in front of him, you can already see the playful and fond gleam in his eyes. Sometimes you wonder if he only saves that look for you.

Steve opens the door for you and once you step inside, it’s like you never left. You know Steve’s place like the back of your hand and you won’t be surprised if Steve knows yours just the same. Following him up the stairs to his bedroom, the two of you get into a routine that has honestly warmed your heart since it started.

Steve goes slides his desk to corner of the wall as you open the window that it was faced toward. You can hear the crickets chirping in the night and the faint sound of trees rustling from the night wind. The air warm from summer being just a blink away, so you unzip your jacket after pulling out the light you had shoved into it. Steve sits on the other side of window as he pulls out the joint that was promised. You chuck off your shoes with a groan an wiggle your sock covered toes as you hear the scrape of the lighter against Steve’s thumb.

He doesn’t take the first hit, he never does. Not with weed or even cigarettes—he simply lights it for you. You don’t remember when it started but you do remember the curt remark from Carol at a party once. Steve had got a couple beers, had opened one, handed it to you and pull one for him out of his pocket. Carol (drunk and little jealous) had asked “Who is she, your girlfriend Harrington?”

You and Steve had both shrugged off the comments, not really taking to heart the words that your friend had slurred out your mouth. But as Tommy dragged her away for some air, and you watched Steve light the cigarette just to give to you, the words were replaying in your mind for the rest of the night.

Months later and here you are, sharing the small joint with Steve. Fingers brushing against each other as you exchange it back and forth. You blow the smoke out the window with your arm rested on the windowsill. Your cheek squished against your arm, you look out at the night sky. You don’t know if your eyes are playing tricks on you but you can only see two stars in the sky. They stand in the blackness of the night parallel to you and Steve.

You’ve got to be super high already. You clear your throat and rub your eyes against your arm. “Mom’s got a new guy.”

“Oh yeah?” Steve asks as he hands the small joint to you.

You hum. “Yea he’s,” you inhale warm smoke, “He’s some guy up from Indianapolis. Works at a lawyer firm or accounting something.” You shrug your shoulders, you never really give a shit about the who and what of your mom’s new flavor of the month.

“Think this one’s gonna stick?” Steve accepts the last bit of the joint.

You shake your head and smush your cheek back on your arm. “They never do.”

Because from what your mom tells you whenever she drinks vodka—that all of them can never hold a candle to your father. She tells you that with tear in her eyes, mascara smudged and lips quivering. You always exchange her vodka out for whatever after a while when she’s not looking; Usually she’s too drunk to even notice the difference.

You snap out of your daydream at the touch of Steve’s warm hand against your waist. His skin on yours makes your breath hitch silent. Your shirt had ridden up with how you were leaned against the window sill, so you know it wasn’t his intention to place his hands on you like that but he doesn’t move it. Instead you feel his thumb softly move back and forth. Faint baby strokes against your skin that sends goosebumps up your spine.

You try your best to look casual as you direct your gaze to Steve. He’s smoking the last bit of it, the roach looking tiny in his big hands. You let out a whine, “You’re hogging it Harrington.”

Steve shrugs, “Not my fault you were lost in a daydream.”

You use your unoccupied hand to reach out for the roach but Steve takes the little thing and extends his arm out of your reach. Orangey red ember staring back at you as you squint and pout. “That shit probably only has one hit left. ‘S not fair, I was just enjoying my high.” You lie.

Steve debates it for a second, you see how his face changes from playful to thoughtful to fond in the bright moonlight.

Fuck, you really like the way he looks at you.

“Fine. How about this?”

Steve takes the last and final hit of the joint and you gasp in shock— slightly annoyed that he didn’t share it. But once Steve gets into your personal space, his hand still on sliding from your waist, up your back to softly cup your neck—you realize that Steve Harrington is actually fucking sharing it.

You lean to meet him as suck in the warm smoke that Steve blows into your mouth. His gaze low and heavy as he leans back a bit to watch you lick your chapped lips.

You can’t really tell who pulled in first but all you know is that night you and Steve had sex for the first time.

The morning after, when you woke up to the sun on your skin and the sound of birds chirping. The bed is empty when you turn around. Your naked underneath the sheets and you shove Steve’s shirt over your head and shrug on your sweats as you make your way out of his room.

You follow the sound of pots and pans and walk downstairs to see Steve in the kitchen. His back toward you as he places a pan on the stove. There’s a cup of coffee next to him and a mug empty right next to his.

“Hey.” you mumble out.

Steve turns to the sound of your voice and with the same fucking in his eyes that makes your heart jump—he smiles softly at you. “Morning. Coffee?”

Warmth and relief flutters inside of you as you let out a deep sigh, “Yeah that’s perfect actually.”

The two of you don’t talk about what happened last night. Neither of you ask the what are we question and it makes you happy and anxious at the same time. But as you laugh at some stupid story he’s telling, you remind yourself that it was only one time and it won’t ever happen again.

Until it happens a second time and then a third time. Then it turns into something so continuous that Tommy and Carol catch on.

“Are you guys fucking or something?” Tommy blurts out at your table in the cafeteria. You nearly choke on your Coke. Carol eyes you both as she blows the biggest bubble of gum she’s done so far. You keep the soda can up against your lips—an act of not speaking, blaming it on drinking soda.

“Don’t try to deny it either,” Carol states with a pop of her gum. “Those hickeys conveniently placed blow your neck is peaking out of your collar.” She tells you. Your mouth slightly gaped like a fish, you reach to adjust your shirt collar as Steve clears his throat.

“It’s nothing serious. We’re just hanging out.” Steve says like it’s whatever.

You ignore the pang in your chest when the words come out of his mouth. But, you’re in no mood to make a fool of yourself, so you do what you do best—push down those unwanted feelings and agree. “Yeah,” you shrug your shoulders. “We’re just-”

“Casual.” Steve finishes for you and like the stupid girl you are—you nod. You take the multiple blows he sent your way with the five letter word and the look on his face that’s nothing like how he looks at you in private.

With the ring of the school bell, you watch as Steve wipes his mouth with a napkin, toss it on his tray and leave the lunch table. Tommy follows after him like a lost puppy while leaving his girlfriend in the process.

You almost don’t see the small look of shock and disappointment in Carol’s eyes with how fast it leaves. She pops her gum and in a blink of an eye it’s gone. Her usual bored stare takes its place as she locks eyes with you.

“Bathroom?”

Going to the bathroom with Carol Jenkins means more than just going to the bathroom. No, it doesn’t mean making out in the stall—even though you did do that one time when the two of you both turned sixteen; Just to see how kissing girls felt. It meant what every other group of girls did when going to the bathroom at Hawkins High.

To Reapply lipgloss, smoke out the window and gossip.

The highschool bathroom window only opened three inches on every floor for safety reasons and to prevent kids from smoking. But all you had to do was stick your hand out and let the smoke trail out side.

So hear you stood by the window, cigarette in the hand extended outside. You take a puff and watch the track team do laps on the yard.

“You know, if what you and Steve have isn’t as casual as he thinks it is—you need to tell him like now.” Carol says out loud. You nearly break your neck with how quick you turn to the redhead who is reapplying her lipgloss for the second time since you lit the cig. She meet your eyes yet, giving you time to save face as she primos and fluffs her hair before finally turning to you.

You shrug, “He’s right. We’re just—having fun.”

She nonverbally asks for the cigarette and you hand it to her. Watching as she walks to the window and blows the smoke she just inhaled out the tiny open space. Carol’s a bit shorter than you, something you made fun of in a cute way whenever you’re too drunk. But now, for some reason, you’re the one that feels small. Almost as if she can read right through your bullshit lie and knows that what you want and what Steve wants are two different fucking things.

“Well,” she taps the ash of the on the window sill. You wipe it off in annoyance. “Make sure you remember that and have fun.”

The thing about Carol Jenkins—she wasn’t always a bitchy mean girl. No, before status and highschool popularity and even Tommy, she was a pretty good friend. As time went on, she changed and you did too. But probably not in the same direction though.

Carol doesn’t say anything to you about the matter ever again after that. And you continued on with the facade of being okay with being just causal with Steve.

Because the thing is, it wasn’t casual. Steve can go about and say that the two of you were just casual but it doesn’t feel casual and it never has.

Not when he kisses your hand when the two of you take long drives and especially not when you hold each other so close at night.

You know how many freckles Steve has on his back. You’ve counted them on one lazy Sunday morning. The wind blowing through the open window of your bedroom, curtains light and flowy with the sun peeking through. Steve, chest bare, sleeping on his stomach with hands underneath the pillow. You on top of him, cheek smushed against his back and your legs tangled together.

You had woken up before him. Eyes a bit blurry and mouth dry as you glide your fingers up and down his back. M Dancing around his spine as you count all the small dots that were scattered across his body. Twenty three of them.

He knows where all your birthmarks are. Could find them blindfolded with nothing but his wandering hands.

You’ve moaned his name against his mouth and he’s grunted out yours. In his room and yours. In the front seat of his car and the back seats. At Lover’s Lake when the sun is gone and the moon is bright. At Skull Rock, a place you both found after too many close calls getting caught by the cops at the lake. On his bathroom counter and underneath the warm shower water. At his parent’s beach house and at parties when you are able to ditch your friends.

None of that felt fucking casual to you.

You wished and prayed not to be like your mother. But here you are, drunk out of your mind in the corner of the room at Tina’s Halloween party. Black eyeliner smudged against your eyes and fake blood dried against your mouth. You can taste the nasty artificial taste of it as you lick your lips. “Pure Fuel” nearly finished in your stained and sticky solo cup; you watch as Steve and Nancy walk through the crowd of dressed up teens—in their own couple’s costume.

He’s wearing the same sunglasses he had at the beach house. The same ones you took off his face to see his pretty brown eyes and kiss his lips afterwards.

Drink in hand and eyes blurry with tears, you painfully watch the couple dance to the music.

What you and Steve had wasn’t casual. You knew that deep within your bones. But Steve doesn’t speak to you, not like he used to, not after that night and not since Nancy. Because he’ll see it tightly in his mind that what you had was causal when it was nothing of the sort.

So, as you watch Steve follow Nancy to what you assume is the bathroom to go fuck like you used to do with him, you follow in your mother’s footsteps. Hips swaying and mind fuzzy as you tangle your warm tongue with Billy Hargrove’s.

He’s a mistake. He isn’t Steve. But he’s just enough to make you forget how the boy you loved was never your boy begin with.

He made that very clear.

[igotatasteforoldermendelrey]

Notice you.

Picture from ILoveBTRandHD on Pinterest

A/N : hi guys! I’ve been writing that today. This one shot is roughly inspired by The Spanish Love Deception by Elena Armas (if you like ennemies to lovers, forced proximity it’s your clue to read it). Enjoy !

English is not my first language, you might (really) find some mistakes in this, don’t hesitate to warn me !

Ship : Joaquin Torres x reader

Summary : Joaquin had asked you to accompany him as his girlfriend to his sister’s wedding because of a lie he told to his mother. Now here you were, on the west coast with him, acting like you were madly in love. Follows an incident leading to a confession.

Warnings : lies, angst, mean ex girlfriend (she tries to hit reader), swearing, denial (Joaquin’s), aerophobia (reader’s), reader can tan, Afab, feelings, mention of John Walker (yes he deserves a warning even if he isn’t here).

Let me know if I forgot something !

I do not consent to any of my work to be translated or posted anywhere else without my permission.

Banners made from Pinterest.

Come on y/n please… Joaquin begged, following you out of the common room.

No, Joaquin. I am not going to go with you to your sister’s wedding. Even less because you want to impress a girl.

It’s not to impress someone! I swear! He explained, still following. I told my sister that I was bringing someone.

And why did you lie in the first place? You pondered.

Be-because she might have mentioned that Sarah, my first girlfriend, was coming.

And?

With someone. You sighed turning around and continuing walking. W-Wait! I panicked that’s all! Please. I really need your help. I will do anything!

Anything? You asked, raising an eyebrow.

Yes! Anything!

Then I will do it.

Thank you! He exclaimed with relief.

At one condition. You’re training with John. Forever.

I- forever? Seriously?

Dude I swear if I need to hold his punching bag ever again I’m going to jump out the window. It’s non negotiable.

Fine. You’re coming with me to the wedding, I’m training with Walker. Deal?

Deal.

——-

You shouldn’t have said yes. You really shouldn’t have. But you had three days off, no one at the compound and definitely needed some change of scenario. So here you were sat in plane besides Joaquin, your legs jumping against the ground.

Are you ok?

I don’t like plane.

What? That’s not true you never had any problems in the Quinjet.

It’s completely different. In the Quinjet I’m the one piloting and if anything is going wrong then I can jump out. Not here.

It’s going to be alright. It’s a five hours flight to Los Angeles.

You’re really not reassuring me right now. You sighed putting your head in your hands. Oh and I don’t speak Spanish. Like at all. I learned Italian in high school.

It’s no big deal. My sister is marrying a dude from Austin. Believe me my family won’t be shocked by the fact you do not speak Spanish.

You looked at him from the corner of your eye, not convinced.

No really! They’re going to love you. I’m serious. He said, bumping his shoulder against yours. And we’re in this together.

Why did I let you bring me into that.

Because you dumped training with Walker?

Yeah, that’s true.

—————

You landed on time, getting your luggage and walking towards the exit where Joaquin’s family was supposed to be waiting for you. Right before crossing the doors, Joaquin looked at you before extending his hand for you to take. You take it and exhale before continuing walking.

When the doors opened, someone was already calling Joaquin’s name. It was a small old woman, wearing glasses and jumping up and down waving at you both. Joaquin’s face lighted up immediately, you could see the excitement in his eyes and yet he didn’t let go of your hand, if not clutching it tighter.

Mi hijo! You’re finally here! Oh it’s been so long. The older woman said, taking him in her arms, hugging him tightly.

Yes, Joaquin. Your grand mother has been waiting really long to see you again. Another woman speak out behind the older woman. Welcome back, I missed you.

Mom, dad. Joaquin said, taking them both in his arms. After parting way, he took back your hand in his, without even needing to look. And this is Y/n, my girlfriend.

Hi. You said with a smile. It’s nice to finally meet you.

Oh hi! You’re so pretty! Look at that girl Monica! The older woman said with a strong Spanish accent. She took your hands in hers hand pulled you in a hug.

Thank you so much.

It’s nice to meet you my love! Monica exclaimed with a big smile. Let’s get you both home now, you must be really tired.

—————

You and Joaquin entered the bedroom you were going to occupy for the two next nights. Of course there is only one bed, you knew that already so it wasn’t really a surprise. You sighed, tired from your travel and just let yourself fall on the bed, face down in the sheets.

No no no! Airport germs! You’re getting them everywhere on the bed!

The what? You asked, not even raising your head.

Come on, you’ll feel better after a shower. He hold his hand for you and showed you were the bathroom was.

————

You exited the bathroom, wet hair on your back and a towel in your hands. You see Joaquin, sat in the armchair in the corner of the bedroom, swiping on his phone.

Bathroom’s free. You announced before realising he changed his clothes. Did you already take a shower?

Yeah, I used the bathroom downstairs. Ready to go?

To go where?

Oh yeah we have a family dinner at the restaurant tonight. Both my family and my soon to be brother in law’s will be there.

And you’re just warning me now?

No, I told you in the plane.

You mean after I took the medication my doctor prescribed me? You asked him, raising your brow.

Yeah…?

For fuck’s sake. When do we have to leave?

In like twenty minutes.

I hate you. You replied, searching in your bag for a decent outfit.

No you don’t.

————

The night was calm, waves crashing on the shores not so far away from where you were all seated. Joaquin’s sister, Olivia, was everything you would have expected. A really kind, tall and friendly woman that took you immediately in her arms when her brother presented you, telling you how strong you were to pull with her brother’s shit. She insisted for you to be seated next to her, telling her bridesmaid she was already going to be next to her the whole weekend.

Joaquin watched you the whole evening, how you tried to talk with every single member of his family, laughing and telling stories about your job. When you excused yourself to go to the bathroom, all the people around the table went silent, turning to him with smiles of their faces.

What?

Oh Joaquin, she’s amazing! An aunt told him.

Yes, I think it’s the best you can do. Olivia added with a smirk. How did you manage to get her to date you?

I fought really hard to even get her to look at me. I’m not even telling you what I needed to do to get her to come on a date with me. Yeah, she is… perfect. Truly I’ve never met someone so kind yet ready to fight any asshole. She’s truly a hero. He laughed with his family.

You came back to the table, noticing a few stares in your direction. You brushed it off, thinking it was because you were the newbie in the family. You sat back between Olivia and Joaquin, who grabbed your hand in his and linked your fingers. Just for the show, of course.

————

You came home, a little bit tipsy from all the wine you drank, needing to hold onto Joaquin’s arm to walk approximately straight. He brought you to your bedroom, helped you sit on the bed before getting everything you might need to remove your make up.

I will leave you get ready, just call me when you’re done, ok?

You nodded with a smile, feeling your heart warm up.

After changing and calling Joaquin, you both faced the only bed in the room. It wasn’t really the first time you had to share a bed, except that last time you were both on a mission and hadn’t the choice.

Do you want me to sleep on the floor? It’s my fault we’re both in this situation so it’s the less I can do.

What? No! The wedding is tomorrow, you’re the first man you cannot look like shit. We will share, it’s not like it’s the first time. You replied, sitting on the right sight of the bed.

Yeah you’re right. He added and and join you in the bed. Good night, babe. He added with a smirk and that made you laugh.

————-

The next morning.

You felt something hard wrapped around you, enveloping you in warmth. It took you a few minutes to realise that the weight on you was actually Joaquin’s arm draped on your waist. You tried to escape his embrace to not make things weird when he will wake up but the first move you made led to him hugging you tighter.

You sighed, trying to think of a way to get you out of his arms. Joaquin? Wake up… you said softly, lightly shaking his arm. Joaquin?

He groaned before opening his eyes, realising you were in his arms. He simply took his arms off and smiled at you. Good morning.

Hi. You replied, sitting up in the bed.

Did you sleep well?

Yes, the bed was really comfortable. I’m gonna go get dressed while you fully wake up. You said getting up and walking to the bathroom at the end of the hallway, leaving Joaquin laying on his back on the bed, a weird feeling in the chest.

———

The day went smoothly, talking with Joaquin’s family, helping his grand mother to choose her outfit for the wedding, her insisting that what Olivia chose was making her look sick. You truly loved his family, they were always laughing and sharing stories making you feel welcomed.

The time of the wedding was approaching meaning you had to start to get ready. Joaquin was doing his first man duty and will be meeting you directly at the church.

After putting on your outfit and doing your make up, you met Monica in the living room to leave for church. When you arrived, you were surprised to see at least a hundred of people gathered in front of the doors of the church, all of them wearing beautiful outfits.

You entered the church, sat on a bench in the third row before Monica stop in front of you staring at you with amusement.

Honey what are you doing? Come sit with us, you’re with Joaquin, you’re practically like family now! She exclaimed, taking your hand and entraining to the first row.

You had a direct view on the priest, Bill, Olivia’s fiancé, and Joaquin who was standing proudly, looking at the entrance for his sister. He haven’t notice you yet and you profited of this moment to get a good look at him. He was wearing a dark green suit, with a lavender branch in the pocket on his chest. You could see how exited he was just by the smile he was giving to the assembly. Someone sat behind you knocked over a relative’s walking stick bringing his attention to your side. That’s when he saw you.

Joaquin was not someone who lingered too long on someone’s look. However, when he saw you there, sat with his family and staring at him with something in your eyes he didn’t recognised, he almost choked on his saliva. You were truly mesmerising. The colour you chose to wear was perfect for you, complementing your skin and light tan. He didn’t have the time to approach you because the music started.

Olivia walked down the aisle, accompanied by her father, clutching his arm. She was beautiful, wearing a long siren dress with a veil hiding her face. Monica grabbed your hand at the sight, tears running down her face. You took a time to stare at Joaquin and the expression on his face couldn’t be described. You realised Olivia, being the big sister, was his role model and seeing her get married might have broken a little part of his heart knowing she wasn’t going to share the same last name anymore.

The ceremony was beautiful and the newly wed left to get to the other location where the banquet was held. Joaquin met you on the porch of the church, a smile on his lips.

Hi.

Hi. It was beautiful and Olivia was absolutely perfect. You said to him with a smile.

Yes she was. I’m glad she is finally happy. He replied looking around to his family that was gathering in the cars. You have a ride? He asked.

I think your mother told me earlier she will keep me a seat in the car. I mean that was before she met a woman named Carmen who needed someone to bring her to the reception. You answered with a small laugh.

Perfect then. I will be your driver. He said, grabbing your hand and bringing you to his car.

The ride was short and quiet, you both still thinking about the ceremony. When you arrived on the parking lot of the hotel where the reception was held, so many cars were already parked and music was coming from the garden.

You climbed out of the car, grabbing Joaquin’s arm to walk on the gravel with your heels. You walked to the garden where tables were organised all over the grass, fairy lights illuminating the park.

I think your mother is waving at you, you should go see her. I will go get us drinks. You said pointing with your head in Monica’s way.

Ok, I will find you after.

And if you don’t just whistle and I will come find you. You joked thinking back at one of your first missions together.

I always find you, honey. He answered with a smirk before leaving to see his mother.

You walked up to the bar, asking the bartender for a beer and a glass of champagne.

So it’s you. Said a feminine voice behind you.

You turned around, not knowing if the person was talking to you or to someone else. The woman you saw was a tall blonde, with a pink sequin dress and a smirk.

Excuse me?

You’re Joaquin’s new arm candy, right?

If by arm candy you mean girlfriend then yes.

Nah I meant arm candy, you won’t last long enough to earn the title of his girlfriend.

You must be Sarah, right? Isn’t your boyfriend looking for you?

She scoffed before coming closer to you, stepping in your personal space. Believe me you better stay away from him if you don’t want troubles. You don’t want to mess with me. She warned.

Am I supposed to be scared or something?

You-

Here you are, honey! Joaquin exclaimed besides you. Oh hi Sarah, I see you two have already met.

Yes, I was telling her how much I loved her dress. She said, with a faux smile. It’s been a while, let’s catch up, my table is over there. She added, grabbing his arm and leading a confused Joaquin to her table.

You sighed, not knowing if you should intervene or let them be. You chose the last option, returning to your sit with a beer and a glass in each hands. When Monica saw you sitting alone at one side of the garden and her son with Sarah on the other, she scoffed and made her way to you.

I never liked that girl. She had a bad influence on my Joaquin. A true viper. Rolling her eyes, she pulled the chair besides you and sat down. She has the bad habit to threaten every single of his girlfriends he ever brought back home. Like he is her property or something. I’m telling you, I’m this close, she approached two of her fingers together, to go interrupt their conversation. Leaving you alone to talk with her, I swear it’s not how I raised him.

You laughed a little. It’s not big deal. It’s been a long time since they saw each other, they must have a lot to catch up.

I knew I shouldn’t have invited her. Olivia said, standing behind her mother and you with a frown on her face. Bill said I should because she’s close to the family. But I swear if she tries something with him I’m going to tear out her fake hair.

You laughed again, impressed by her vivacity.

I think you will have to queue for that, y/n here is the first in line. Her mom replied, passing a hand on your back.

Yeah you’re right. Don’t hesitate to go get your man, Y/n. I can tolerate arguments if it implies she’s put back at her place. The bride added with a wink before returning to her husband.

You decided to give them ten minutes, after what you will go join them in their conversion, not wanting to be seen as the poor girl her boyfriend is cheating on in front of everyone. You stand up after two when you saw her grab his arm while laughing out loud.

You crossed the garden, coming to stand beside Joaquin, passing your hand in his hair which made him follow your hand afterwards.

Is everything alright? He asked with seriousness to which you nodded. Let’s get something to eat. He told you, before smiling apologetically at Sarah and grabbed your hand.

Well that was something. You started, looking at him with a smirk.

What do you mean?

Well she intimidated me then stayed glued to you since she got here, and I’m not even talking about the fact she quite literally stole you from me as soon as you joined us at the bar.

Intimidating you? No she couldn’t do that. He laughed like it was the nicest joke you ever said. She must have been joking.

No Joaquin. She wasn’t.

Come on, you don’t need to play the jealous girlfriend, they already all believe we’re together.

You don’t believe me. Oh my- You still like her!

Shhh. What?

Either way you would have believed me. Right now it’s like you think she is perfect.

That really not it. It’s just that, I mean she’s not like that. I know her since a long time.

Not even defending your fake girlfriend. You said with a roll of your eyes. Stay in your denial if you want to, but she is not a good person. You told him, before going back to sit at your table.

The evening went without any other incidents except Sarah staring at you with dagger the whole night. When the time of the toast came, Joaquin stand up to make his speech.

Olivia, Bill, I cannot tell you how happy I am for the two of you. Oli, to finally see you happy with someone, someone who can make you laugh even in the worst moments. Bill, when she told me about you, a guys from Texas, I’m not going to lie I thought you were going to be an asshole. And after all, you’re not. You’re one of the funniest man I ever met, and the luckiest bastard too to marry my sister. Just so you know, I’m friend with Captain America so you really don’t want to mess with her. The whole assembly laughed. Anyway, I hope me and my beautiful Y/n, he raised his glass to you, will become like the two of you. To the newly weds ! He exclaimed raising his glass high before kissing his sister who was trying to hide her tears.

He came back to sit besides you, looking at you and smiling when he saw the look he gave you. You wiped away a tears that escaped your eye.

Are you ok? He asked, putting his hand on top of yours.

Yes, I just didn’t expect your speech to be this emotional.

I did my best.

The evening continued, the dinner was excellent and everyone was enjoying the party, dancing and singing along the songs played by the Dj.

Wanna dance? Joaquin asked, holding out his hand to you.

I’m really bad at it.

So am I. So don’t worry they will be laughing at me.

You stand up with him and went together on the dance floor. He grabbed softly your waist, letting you the time to stop him if you wanted to. Instead, you put your arms around his neck, smiling up at him.

You danced the evening away, parting way to get some refreshments. You didn’t understand why your heart wouldn’t stop pounding that quickly in your chest. You both couldn’t take your eyes off one another, something in yours eyes you couldn’t really name.

At the end of the night, half of the guest already left, too tired to continue dancing and already thinking about next morning’s brunch. Only the close friends and family stayed, still laughing with Olivia and Bill.

You were standing against a wall where wallflowers grew, fresh air caressing your face. Your were watching Joaquin talking with his family, the way he was standing tall and happy. It warmed your heart to see him like that. Yes he was the golden retriever of the team, always trying to get everyone to smile. But there, in this environnement it was at another level.

You still didn’t understand it right? Sarah said besides you.

Can’t you leave me alone?

Leave you alone? No. Not as long you’re not gone from his life. I know people and I’m not scared to go dirty.

I’m kinda impressed by how sure of yourself you are. But I am not scared. And by the look on your face you’re the one scared of me. Now please, let us be. You added before looking behind her and realising Joaquin and Monica were both watching you.

You left her behind, going to join them both.

————

You were speaking with Silvia, Joaquin’s grand mother, and Monica when you felt warmth behind you. Joaquin was standing behind you, a light blush on his cheeks from the alcohol and the dancing. He wrapped his arms around your waist and you let him, not feeling the need to get out of it.

You wanna leave? He whispered in your ear.

You sure you don’t want to stay longer?

Nah. And I will see them tomorrow. Come on. Let’s go. He took your hand, lighting pulling you towards him. Ma, abuela, we will see you both tomorrow.

You walked towards the entrance of the hotel to get the car when you heard someone calling you behind. You both turned around and realised Sarah was running behind you, a death stare directed at you. When she arrived at your level, you saw her right hand twitch and before you knew it she was launching at you. You grabbed her arms in the middle of the way, avoiding the impact.

The fuck you think you’re doing?! You exclaimed.

I told you I wasn’t scared to go dirty. She replied, ready to try to hit you again.

Joaquin didn’t react, not knowing what to do or say, too shocked by the gesture.

You’re fucking crazy. Where did you see it was alright to try to hit someone like that? She was still fuming. Joaquin. You called out his name, trying to get a reaction out of him.

What the fuck, Sarah? He finally reacted. Why would you do that?!

Because I love you! I’m better than her!

You scoffed, too tired for this shit. I will leave you deal with that, call me when you’re done. You said, walking towards where the car was parked.

You hear them argue, not stopping until you find the car. You realised the beach wasn’t that far from where you were standing and decided to go take a walk while Joaquin was taking care of Sarah.

—————

There you are. Joaquin said, standing beside you, his hands in your pockets.

Did you take care of her? You asked not even looking at him, staring at the ocean.

Yes. I’m sorry I didn’t believe you. I should have.

You were in denial. It happens to the best of us. You replied, feeling the sand move beside you as the young man sit.

I think I didn’t thank you enough for what you did this weekend.

I gain something from it. I mean not training with Walker is a fucking grace.

You both laughed at that. After a while you put your head on his shoulder, feeling his own head on yours.

Can I ask you a question?

Yes.

Why did you ask me? I mean it’s not like I’m the only one in the building. And it’s not like no one had eyes for you.

You noticed girls interested in me?

Dude even Sam did. You don’t want to know how many people asked me about your romantic life.

I don’t notice them. He simply replied, his words full of another meaning.

You raised your head to look at him, noticing how close you two were.

Let’s get you home, yeah?

You nodded, still staring at him. He helped you get on your feet and escorted you to the car.

When you arrived in front of the building, he ran to get on your side and open your door, helping you get out of the car. He held your hand, even when he opened the front door or the door of the apartment. He didn’t let go until you were in the bedroom. His parents and grand mother were not home yet, and you didn’t know if they were going to come home or stay at the hotel to avoid getting on the road.

You haven’t talked since you left the beach, too conscient of the fragility of the moment. His thumb was caressing the top of your hand, you looked up at him, smiling softly at him.

You asked me why I asked you. He started, looking at your hands. I don’t know why, but when I started to think about it, you were the only person it could work with. It made sense. And I lie to you… when I told you I hadn’t noticed the others looking at me. But I don’t care about them… not in that way. I only notice you.

You couldn’t speak or move.

I notice how in the morning you make sure there is enough coffee in the pot for everyone. I notice how you’re always hyper vigilant about everything around, that’s how you knew Sarah was going to hit you. I notice how you always make sure that the shoelace on your right foot is tightly tied because that’s how you broke your leg before during training. I notice how you blush when you like something even though you’re trying to hide it. I notice everything about you.

Silence.

And earlier, when you told me about Sarah… I didn’t want to believe you because it would’ve meant you actually care much more than I thought you did. And she was the safe option… I mean when she doesn’t take herself for a fucking mobster.

You laughed at that. Joaquin then put his hands on your cheeks, making you look up to him before crossing the line between friends and lovers.

That night, you slept better than you ever did in the past years.

———————

The next morning.

You both arrived late to the brunch, holding hands and running toward the table. Everyone was already seated and eating when you both arrived at the end of the table. Monica, Olivia and Silvia all smiled widely at the sight.

When Olivia realised you were anxiously looking around the table, she got up and came closer to you. Don’t worry, I made sure she couldn’t come here. We don’t raise hands on family. She said, a hand on your right shoulder. Now come on, go sit down before they eat everything.

—————

Wait wait wait. That’s how you guys started dating?! Sam exclaimed. Because you, he pointed to Joaquin, asked you, he pointed to you, to accompany him to a wedding?

Yes?

And your ex tried to hit her?!

Yeah.

I don’t know if I should be impressed or scared.

Just be happy? You said, grabbing Joaquin’s hand in yours.

And that how you crossed the line, losing a friend to find a lover. Someone that noticed you.

[billieskitty]

♱ NOBODY NEW

cw :: based on “nobody new” by the marías , angst? , fluff , ex!billie but u guys basically get back together (kinda implied)

part one here

you quickly rush to the bathroom to clean yourself up, washing off your tear stained cheeks. you didn’t want her to see you like this, even though she heard you crying. it was embarrassing.

after freshening up, you head out to your living room, trying to pick up as much as you could before you hear ‘knock, knock.’

you perk up, head turning quickly to the door. “oh god.” you whisper to yourself, your breath and heart beat quickening.

you walk slowly, trying to calm yourself down as you open the door. you look up to find billie, giving a small, warm, but worried smile. “hey.” she speaks, stepping forward to go inside.

“hi..” you respond, letting her in. you close the door behind her, silently cursing yourself. you turn around, ready to explain. “i’m sorry, i know i shouldn’t have even called.” you ramble on, “you probably have a girlfriend already, i mean i saw a post and-”

you get cut off by a swift kiss and hands on your waist. the kiss was gentle and sweet, but longing. she’s been waiting to do this again.

you return the kiss, wrapping your arms around billie’s neck. after a few seconds you pull away to catch a breath, locking eyes with her. “i missed you.”

she smiles, like an agreement, and then places her lips back on yours. she leads you two to the couch, remembering exactly where it was. you both giggle as you sit down, getting separated.

then there’s silence. not bad silence, you’re both just thinking. she’s staring at you, your eyes, your nose, your mouth—everything. you missed this. her.

“uh-i have a question.” she adjusts herself as you nod, letting her continue. “what were you saying before? about a girlfriend..?”

your face heats up, realizing you totally forgot about that because when she kissed you, everything went blank. “oh uh. i saw a post. you and this girl at coachella. i just figured..” you start getting quieter, nervous. you fidget with your fingers, looking down.

billie grabs your hands, your eyes going back up to hers. “baby, i promise. there’s nobody new.” she smiles so hard her teeth show, and that makes you smile.

“i’m being honest, there’s no one like you.”

— NOTES :: finallyyyy got to this…i had to !!!!! okay hope u enjoy :))))

[florihaei]

𝜗𝜚 only when it hurts .ᐟ 𐙚˙⋆.˚

͏꒰ lee donghyuck! x fem!reader ✿

─── you’ve always came back to him, he never ask you to stay. but tonight feels heavier than usually, it’s just something about tonight that feels different, like one of you might finally break .ᐟ

⟡ 𓂃 - suggestive content!, toxic (not extremely), possessive, smoking, alcohol, heartbreak themes, full fic!, names : baby, sweetheart, pretty girl. regrets,

౨ৎ … WC - 1.2k ! ( FLORIHAEI’S VALUT )

⟡ 秋のメモ… ︵ ︵ ིྀ - hi hi guys!!, gonna start posting a lot more!! this was supposed to be based of + 82 preesin but it’s not 😭!!, likes and reblogs are greatly appreciated!!, please enjoy!

©florihaei 2025 ꒰ do not rewrite, copy, repost, or translate any of my works without permission ۟ ׅ ͡ ୨ৎ

the first thing you see is smoke.

leaning against a blacked out car, there he was, one hand holding a cigarette, his other hand buried in his jacket pocket. it was always the same cigarette between his lips, always the same look in his eyes like he’s already bored of everything.

expect you..

he doesn’t even flinch when you walk up.

“late” haechan says, exhaling slowly. “i was about to leave.”

“you weren’t” you replied, your arms crossed tight against your chest.

his smirk appears like it’s always been there. “you know me too well”

and that’s the problem, you do.

you know the way his jaw tightens when he’s jealous. how he talks with his hands when he’s trying not to say something he means. how he never asks you to stay the night, but still watches you sleep until the morning.

and he knows things about you too, maybe too much.

he tosses the cigarette, stepping on it with his boot. “that dress..” he murmurs. “you wore it to drive me crazy, didn’t you?”

you scoffed. “you give yourself too much credit.”

“baby” he stepped closer, his coicr mixed with smoke and honey. “you walk around looking like that and expect me to just stand here still like im not looking at the most gorgeous girl?”

the way he makes your heart beat even faster, he’s always been good with his mouth, and not just when he’s talking..

he brushes your hair behind your shoulder, fingers grazing your skin. “why do you this?” you whisper.

he tilts his head. “do what?”

“call me.. bring me over here, kiss me like you mean it..”

he doesn’t answer right away. just lets the silence stretch out until it hurts.

“because when i don’t” he finally says, his voice low. “everything feels fake”

you hate how much that sinks into your chest.

“don’t say shit like that..” you mumble, stepping back.

he catches your wrist, not hard. just enough. “say what?, the truth?”

“no” you breath, “the kind of truth that always makes me stay.”

there’s a pause, then haechan speaks quietly.

“your the only thing that feels real”

you’re throat tightens. it’s so unfair, how he knows what to say eveytime, how he always says it too late.

you shake your head. “haechan no.. you don’t get to do this again, you don’t get to pull me in and push me away, it’s every time..”

he takes a step closer, so close your breath catches. “then stop showing up every time i call”

you flinch. “that’s low.”

“so is pretending you don’t want me.”

you shove him, palms flat on his chest. “i want a lot of things haechan, that doesn’t mean i should have them”

his hands catch your waist instantly, like they belonged there. “but you do have me” he whispers. “every time”

and maybe that’s the worst part, because he’s right.

every time he calls you, you go. every time he touches you. you melt. every time he kisses you, you forgot the way your heart bruises the morning after.

and still .. you lean in.

the kiss is slow at first, just lips grazing, a breath shared, the tension of two people who’ve done this many times. then it depends, his mouth opens against yours and your fingers tangle in his jacket.

his hands slide beneath your dress, teasing the edge of your thigh. “this okay?” he murmurs.

you nod, already breathless. “yeah..”

“say it.”

“it’s okay baby.”

he hums , satisfied, and his lips trail down to your jaw. “knew you’d come back to me, you always do pretty.”

you tilt your head, giving him access, even tho it stings. “maybe i’m just stupid”

“then we’re both fucked up” he says against your skin. “because i keep loosing sleep over a girl who swears she doesn’t care”

you freeze, well that was new.

“what?”

he pulls back slightly, eyes locking with yours. “you heard me””

“you never said that before.”

he shrugs like it’s noting, like he didn’t just crack something wide open. “didn’t mean i didn’t feel like sweetheart”

the silence between you buzzes louder than ever before.

and then, barely above a whisper. “god haechan.. you confuse me so much.”

“you break my heart” you whisper.

he swallows hard. “then why are we still doing this?”

you want to say, because it’s easier than being alone. because every time you leave you feel like your missing a piece of yourself. because he’s the only one who touches you like your something, even when you’re running away.

but you don’t say any of that.

you just say. “i don’t know”

he kisses you again, harder this time. like a goodbye, but not really. his hands grip tighter, his breath shudders against your neck. you want to tell him not to. you want to scream and cry and melt into his skin at once.

when he finally pulls back you feel cold.

he leans his forehead against yours. “we’re so fucking bad for each other.”

“yeah”

“but i still want you baby, every single time.”

you close your eyes. “me too”

and that’s the truth, but truth doesn’t always fix everything.

yoy pull back. “i should go.”

his finger don’t drip from your wrist.

you glance down at them. “don’t make me stay.”

he doesn’t.

he lets you go, slowly like it hurts him. like it hurts you.

you walk away. you don’t look back, you never do.

but your phone will buzz at 2am again the next week

and you’ll still answer.

[bennyboyfics]

The morning after a fight with Ben

The morning after || Ben Shelton x gf!reader

A/n: i acc had someone else request the exact same thing ages ago and i wrote it but i forgot abt it so here it is 🤣 sorry it took so long to post!!!

Wc: 1,690

Warnings: angst!!!!

MASTERLIST

-

The morning after a fight with Ben is always the hardest. The air in the hotel room is heavy with the remnants of last night’s argument, thick with unspoken words and lingering resentment. The silence between you is deafening, broken only by the occasional rustle of the sheets when one of you shifts, careful not to touch the other.

Ben lies on his side, facing away from you, his broad back rising and falling with slow, steady breaths. You don’t know if he’s awake or just pretending to be—either way, you don’t have it in you to check. Your body feels weighed down, exhaustion clinging to your limbs like lead.

You barely slept, your mind replaying every sharp word, every bitter exchange. The way his voice had risen, frustration bleeding into every syllable. The way yours had cracked, trying to hold back tears The look in his eyes—hurt, disappointment, anger. You swallow against the lump in your throat and stare up at the ceiling, blinking back the stinging in your eyes.

The hotel room is dim, the curtains still drawn, but you can tell it’s already morning. You should get up. You should move, but the emotional exhaustion keeps you frozen in place. Beside you, Ben finally shifts, exhaling a slow, deliberate breath. A moment later, he sits up, rubbing a hand over his face before swinging his legs over the edge of the bed.

He doesn’t say anything. Neither do you. It shouldn’t hurt this much, but it does. You listen as he stands, his movements slow and heavy. He walks toward the bathroom, and for a second, you think he might say something—some acknowledgement of last night, even if it’s just a sigh in your direction—but the door closes behind him without a word.

Tears burn at the corners of your eyes. You roll onto your side, curling into yourself, tucking your arms around your middle as if it’ll hold you together. You hate this. Hate the space between you, hate how last night’s fight has built a wall so tall it feels insurmountable. Ben isn’t the kind of man to stay angry forever. He doesn’t hold grudges.

But this… this feels different. The fight had been bad—worse than usual. It wasn’t just a misunderstanding or a petty disagreement. It was real, raw, filled with things you can’t take back. The sound of the shower turning on fills the room, and you squeeze your eyes shut. Maybe you should go. The thought is fleeting, barely fully formed, but it lingers.

You could pack your bag, slip out before he’s done, give him space—give yourself space. But the idea of leaving like this, with so much still unsaid, makes your chest tighten. Minutes pass, stretching endlessly, until you hear the water shut off. You stay still, unmoving, as Ben emerges. You hear him sigh softly, a quiet, weary sound.

The bed dips slightly as he sits down on his side again, towel slung around his waist. The silence is suffocating. Then, finally, his voice—hoarse, quiet.“Are you leaving?” Your breath catches. You turn your head slightly, looking at him for the first time since last night. His expression is unreadable, but there’s something in his eyes—hesitation, vulnerability, maybe even regret.

“I don’t know,” you admit, voice barely above a whisper. Ben exhales sharply, like your words hit him harder than he expected. He drags a hand through his damp curls, looking away for a beat before his gaze flicks back to you. “I don’t want you to.” It’s not an apology. Not yet. But it’s something.

You stare at him, searching his face, and even though the ache in your chest is still there, even though the fight still lingers in the air between you, you know—deep down—that neither of you is ready to let go. Not yet.

-

The tension still lingers as you and Ben get ready for the tournament. It’s quieter than usual—no teasing, no soft touches, no casual banter as Ben gets ready for his match. You watch him dress, pulling on the navy blue of his kit complementing his deep brown skin.

You watch as he laces up his shoes, movements precise, almost robotic. He always does this before a match, but today, his usual ease is absent. His shoulders are tense, his brows slightly furrowed in concentration. You finish getting ready, throwing on a simple outfit—something comfortable for the hours you’ll spend courtside.

Usually, you’d be chatting by now, filling the space with mindless chatter, but today, the silence feels fragile. Like if either of you speaks, everything from last night might come rushing back.

-

The ride to the tournament is quiet. Not the comfortable kind of quiet—the kind that wraps around two people in understanding—but the heavy, suffocating kind. The kind where every breath feels calculated, every glance hesitant. Ben is focused on the road, one hand gripping the wheel while the other rests on his thigh.

He hasn’t spoken much since the hotel, only muttering a low “Ready?” before holding the door open for you. You’d nodded, following him out without another word. Now, as the car moves through the city streets, you steal a glance at him. His jaw is tight, the muscle there ticking every so often. His brows are drawn, his lips pressed into a thin line.

It’s his game-day face, one of pure focus, but you know the difference between his usual pre-match intensity and whatever this is. This isn’t just about the tournament. It’s about last night. You drop your gaze to your lap, fingers picking at the hem of your top. You want to say something—to break the silence, to reach across the gap between you—but your throat feels too tight.

And maybe… maybe you don’t know what to say. By the time you arrive at the venue, the world outside is already alive with movement. People are rushing around, security checking credentials, fans waiting in the distance for a glimpse of their favourite players. The energy is buzzing, the kind that usually excites you. But today, it only adds to the tension wrapped around your chest.

Ben parks the car and sighs, rubbing a hand over his face before turning off the engine. For a moment, he just sits there, fingers tapping against the steering wheel. Then, without looking at you, he murmurs, “You coming?” You nod, unbuckling your seatbelt. The walk inside is just as quiet.

You trail slightly behind him, watching the way his broad shoulders shift under his hoodie, the way his hands stay shoved in his pockets. Normally, he’d hold yours. Normally, you’d be talking, maybe teasing him about being nervous. But this isn’t normal. Inside, the tournament staff greets him, and he slips into his professional persona with ease—offering small nods, polite smiles.

You stay close but don’t say much, feeling like an outsider looking in. Then comes the part you’ve been dreading. The moment before he steps onto the court. For months now, it’s been routine. You always stand with him before he heads out, waiting until the last second.

And just before he leaves, you kiss his cheek—a simple, quick thing, but one that has become a superstition of sorts. He never asked for it, but you started doing it one day, and he never stopped you. Now, as you both linger near the entrance tunnel, you hesitate. Ben adjusts the straps of his bag, shifting his weight from one foot to the other.

His eyes flick toward you, uncertain, and for the first time all morning, you see it—that flicker of vulnerability beneath his usually confident gaze. You don’t think. You just move. Stepping forward, you press a soft kiss to his cheek. It’s brief, familiar, instinctive. The second your lips meet his skin, you feel the tension in his shoulders ease, just the tiniest bit.

When you pull away, he doesn’t say anything at first. Just blinks, exhales. His grip tightens around the handle of his racquet bag. Then, finally, his voice—low, rough, but softer than it has been all morning. “You’ll be here when I get back?” Your chest tightens. The fight isn’t over. The hurt hasn’t vanished. But beneath all of it, there’s still this.

Still him. Still you. You nod. “Yeah.” His lips press together, and then, in the smallest of gestures, he reaches down, brushing his fingers against yours for just a second before pulling away. And then he’s walking onto the court. And you’re still here.

[vryptidart]

lets play book 1 again

because i'm trying to work out how to do alternate romance-start pacing for salt/ava given they don't meet until After book 1. i already have a salt/ava save file and ive been playing thru book2 but I Need More Data and staring at the code options isn't quite the same

do love Nat's intro hehe im gonna be screenshotting as many Nat scenes as Ava ones bc i'm gonna be going for Nat friendship route

glare-off commence

rebecca Effortlessly lying (still giggling over Why Are You Wet)

'each one also sounding like a lie' is such a great line bruh

also funny theres an error here i distinctly remember writing Ava as being 6ft tall huh sera better fix that

god she's suuuuch a bitch i love her anyway slams that 'OBVIOUSLY NOT' option. i dont need the stat i am just having my fun with doodoo mortain

naaat i lov u 💖💖💖

oh right i have to pick my routes hmm ok we're goin verda so i can get those yummy N friendship points

hilarious to have written a fic where yeah. actually that was Salt's first impression. Ava standing in the hallway. "I was just checking my phone. by your door." this isnt suspicious at all. now shut up and accept ignorance while i save your life

love the 'half in concealed annoyance' gfhghfh i think if any character understands that loving Ava is agony, Nat does- this is her best friend she has to watch Be Like This ghfhghf

so twagic... boops her on the nose and runs

forgot how quickly both tina and verda are just OKAY SO DETECTIVE WHO ARE YOU MAKING A MOVE ON HINT HINT NUDGE NUDGE theyre like seras little romance shoulder angels thru book1

side note im not gonna screencap the descriptions of janets body but like. murphy why'd you injure her like that. i get you wanted to drain the blood but you werent exactly stopping the new stuff from also draining out hurting her that way. idiot.

lol

makes me wonder how much the past bodies were actually medically investigated- this seems more like genuine surprise. maybe the transfusion was just a New Thing he was trying with Janet, but... idk

oh hm maybe. her arms getting slashed was just to get the vampire blood back out of her after it failed? would he Care about leaving that evidence? HRMMM dammit i wanna write more janet fic ugh

sobs, cries, beats my chest

suuuuch an interesting interaction tbh 🤔🤔🤔 what was N going to say... gibe me the offscreen argument this is in reference to...

already this playthru is helping, bc smth abt this made me figure out how to progress the scene ive been grumbling over this afternoon hehe

alright posting this now bc my computer's bein a lil chuggy

[tintedswindows]

adrien just looked at her. not with pity — not his style — but with that maddening, unreadable calm that made it unclear whether he was judging her or relating a little too well. the light coming in through the tall windows was soft and warm, catching on the faint shimmer still clinging to her cheekbone, and he thought that ella looked like the kind of girl who used to make everyone stare, until she forgot to ask them not to. “yeah,” he said finally, quiet. “haunted.” he shifted, sitting down on one of the marble benches, glanced over at her, squinting like he was measuring something in her face. “not in a ghost way. more like…” he trailed off, made a vague gesture in the air between them, then tapped his own chest. “internal hauntings. existential dread. bad tequila. the usual.” he bumped her shoulder lightly with his. just enough pressure to remind her he was real and here and still paying attention, even when she felt like falling apart silently. he could see the eyeliner smudged under her eyes still, matching the random glitter that flecked over his cheekbone. he whistled at the sight, low and theatrical. “damn, cinderella’s carriage really turned into a pumpkin, huh?”

he didn’t say i know you’re unraveling. he just said, “you gonna keep showing up like this, or you want me to fake your death so you can start over in italy?” and then, without waiting for a reply, he nudged a coffee cup toward her with the back of his hand, already going lukewarm but still half full. “drink. hydrate. pretend it’s penance.” he grinned, but there was no bite to it — just teasing, warm and crooked. the kind of grin he threw when he wanted to make her laugh before she could cry. “you can make it work, though. like.. post-breakdown model-off-duty energy. very i survived a week in berlin and only cried twice. it’s working.” a pause, and then, softer — genuine, maybe: “show up if you want. don’t if you can’t. the glitter on your face is still more effort than ninety percent of this school.”

ella had started the semester looking fabulous - it hadn't took a genius to place her as a fashion student - but now, her appearance was somewhat dishevelled. of course, there was still glitter on various parts of her face as she'd washed her makeup off from the night before and yet it was her fashion choice of jeans (no doubt, expensive...), a tank top and a zip up hoodie - she was no longer screaming high fashion, hbic energy. what happened? she'd not even stopped herself to ask that question because she had been unaware of it. "haunted?" she frowned towards the other. she didn't think she'd done something embarrassing, was certain a guy had said she was too ugly for a shot from him and she'd laughed it off but the rejection had left another mark.

"maybe, yeah. guess i've just got to wait an extra six hours and i'll start sweating it out, then." he had a point - how could she actually go to workshop like this? what made it worse is that she hadn't come in, like, two weeks and not turning up at all would raise less alarm bells than turning up in this state. ella was good at fashion design but did she just like fashion? she had ideas but sometimes she felt like creative direction and stylish was more her thing - she wasn't sure. ella was twenty four, she was in her second year and she was having another crisis, crises with various points of her life and this was seemingly one of them.

[dailymakotonaegi]

[wickmitz]

what do you think mitzi’s type in men is?

hmm, this is a fun little ask! especially since her love interests, on a surface level, couldn’t be more different. we have :

zib : former long term boyfriend but not quite … they were very loose with labels, as we know from outside information and the way zib lives life in general. but despite this, whatever feelings fostered between them were intense ; enough so for him to stick around years later, resigned to a chained down lifestyle simply because he doesn’t want to leave mitzi. he’s very loyal in that sense! even if it’s not a conventional type of loyalty. we know that before bitterness seeped inbetween their bond that zib took good care of her, while also being a complete mess of a person ; someone perpetually scared whenever physical conflict is concerned and being a musically inclined man who very much treats himself as a free spirit, with a morbid philosophy and feel towards life. he’s got a major tortured artist aesthetic!! is a little gripped by melancholy and nostalgia … zib is a lot of things, and ambitious is surprisingly one of the many puzzle pieces that make up dorian zibowski.

atlas : ruthless gangster, has an eerie presence that frightens even the people closest to him. he is prone to a more quiet disposition ; never speaking and always a blot of unremarkable grey. but he is an opportunist! someone who can manage a business and take advantage of shortcuts and loopholes to become even more successful … basically he is wealthy and uses his assets well. but all of this is done with a manner of distance, leaving even those closest to him never having the full picture of who he was. it’s also worth noting that mitzi and him had eventual problems, which caused her to seperate. also perhaps has a heart of some kind, but whatever love he possesses is hidden under layers of blood and mystery.

wick : well-to-do bore, and i say this with all the love in the world for wick! but compared to previous paramours he’s rather clean and talkative … there is a constant earnestness to him that bleeds out, an honesty and a more conventional sort of kindness. he doesn’t hide behind smoke and mirrors and there’s never really a front he puts up around mitzi -- or his investors for that matter, hence why he’s treated as an ‘outsider’ so to speak. he is an alcoholic who loathes the details of his job but is more than passionate about the job itself and makes this everyone’s problem … he is a little helpless, in the sense he’d die without someone there to make sure he functions … and is, like zib, perpetually afraid of conflict. can be a little wishywashy and can come across as uncaring due to his cheeky tone … but he’s loyal and caring, with a hobby for the unusual ( bugs and rocks lol ) as well as being able to look past the gossip mill and see the actual mitzi may as he knows her, someone who’s going through a rough time and is either too kind or classy to be a brutal killer. he is hypocritical, a little snobby, and rather forward with mitzi too. kind of a flirt when he wants to be!

something that immediately stands out to me when looking at this lineup is that mitzi doesn’t enjoy a violent man. i don’t think she loathes someone who can so brutally or clinically remove others from this earth, but if she were to go for someone they’d usually be sweeter in a sense. it meshes well with her old personality and kinder heart, perhaps brings it out in her, and that sort of levity and breeziness is more enjoyable than, say, being fully aware of the dangers that lurk around every corner because the man you’re beside is prone to bringing it. she also enjoys more talkative types, someone who’s less quiet and demure and serious, and is keen on her men having a hobby they care deeply for ; some sort of long term goal to work towards doesn’t hurt either. and because of some scenes in the comic, i’m a firm believer that mitzi wants someone who can make her smile or laugh with ease, whether because they’re ridiculous by nature or genuinely funny! she has a sort of funny bone herself, enamored with gallow’s humor and darker jokes, so having someone who either a.) reacts hilariously in the face of her jokes or b.) who can return that energy with teasing or their own brand of silly is desirable. everyone could use a good laugh or two, a sense of joy injected into the bustling life they all live, and this all ties back to mitzi being more drawn towards the less stuffy types of men.

so atlas seems to be an outlier when it comes to her type in many ways, hence the later problems they apparently had in their relationship even if she did love him dearly. but, of course, atlas did have something very appealing to her that zib had failed to give, which she rather fondly recalls in the comic page vestige. whether zib likes acknowledging it or not, mitzi wasn’t as gungho about their normad life as he was … or, at the very least, when she lived another life besides that one, she realized she had a preference! and atlas gave her that path, that knowledge that she wanted something else, and seemingly for the very first time in her life … she felt like a proper lady, a feeling that clearly meant a lot to her. it wasn’t just the dresses or the wealth, it was the constant eye of atlas who could have any dame he wanted, but fancied her his wife regardless. it was having someone so respectable looking, dressed well and groomed well, being able to see her as something other than a sweating, exposed girl in a bawdy dress. atlas’s seemingly polite treatment towards mitzi was enough to garner her affections in spite of everything else, so i think she enjoys that now in others, ; folks who treat her as though she’s a woman in high society, men who don’t gawk at her or make lewd remarks immediately … she probably prefers the courting process now and the quaint dates ( that she doesn’t pay for, mind you ) that come along with it. she just -- likes mutual respect, i think. and who doesn’t? she’s been through a lot to get to where she is now, even if it’s a bad predicament, and she’d like for that to amount to something. some sort of acknowledgment, some kind of recognition.

however, it’s worth mentioning that her views on romance and all that it entails have been warped since the death of her husband. such a loss would change how anyone approaches their dating life, if they were to even have one afterwards … after all, mitzi’s whole problem is that she doesn’t want to move on from atlas and has thus completely romanticized him in her head, to the point that she earnestly believes she’ll be miserable forever without his presence. any problems she had with atlas have long since been erased by her tortured mind, leaving her with a profound misery she’s wallowing in. i think she believes herself as incapble of romantic or sexual inclinations nowdays, leading her to view the advances made towards wick as a necessary ‘evil’ for the sake of atlas may and little else -- when she genuinely does like sedgewick to a degree, and wouldn’t go on dates or kiss a man unless some part of her honestly wanted to do so. ( i also think she was attracted to wick somewhat even while married to atlas, but that’s besides the point ) so this is all a rather complicated affair! she is vulnerable and weak, is too aware of herself and the criminal underbelly squeezing in closer … add this on top of her still heavily grieving and having no one she feels she can talk to, you have someone who is rather changed. mitzi is so far removed from herself and who she truly is, or was, that there’s no doubt it’s affected her type ; now she’ll settle for anyone if they’ll just help her, and even then she’d be dispassionate if romantic entanglement of any kind was involved in that relationship. it’s not something she wants right now, and honestly, it all seems scary and daunting … besides atlas, zib was the only other man she’s ever loved enough to stay around for, so she’s never faced a loss like this before. has kept zib throughout all the turmoil and changes -- so this is, as far as we know, her first major loss where it concerns matters of the heart. it’s not shocking she’s so messed up after it, especially given how fresh it all still is. all of this rambling is to say that mitzi’s a little more stingy and cagey then she used to be about love or sex, and she has a lot of inner battles to face before she can fall for someone and be sure about it. needs to thaw, i think, and she would require patience and understanding from anyone who actually wanted to be with her. mitzi could move on with time ( i do not think she’s the type of widow who’d never date again! ) but it would take quite some time to do so. well, in a world where she’s allowed / is able to heal anyway!

while her type would probably remain the same, i could see her wanting a serious relationship more than she did prior to the death of her husband. has no energy for the loopholes, or the rationalizations, or the fickle nature that can grip someone’s heart. she has matured in a lot of ways since her band days and would take comfort in frivolous things like labels and promises of a future, together, as lovers. while what she had with zib was nice and is cherished alongside the freedom to do as she pleased while on the road with the band, i don’t think she misses it. having the stability and assurance of an actual relationship, with all the hardships that come with it, would be better suited for her. as long as she’s treated like an equal of course! i don’t think she’d be keen on her partner hiding anything from her, even if it’s meant to protect her, due to where that put mitzi when atlas was killed. she’d rather know and be disgusted, or worried, or scared than to not know about something at all until it’s too late … again. naturally patience and compassion would also be of importance, as would the usual things she loves like loyalty and a passion for something in life. and while never required, she’d be happy if the person possessed even a singular musical bone in their body! she still thinks artists, particularly musicans, are sexy after all … likes the angst and brooding that comes with it, the slight flare towards the dramatics … as long as they can handle mitzi in her pitiful entirety and do, to some degree, care deeply for her and will compromise … i think she could find some happiness wherever. bonus points if she can live comfortably for the rest of her days too, lord knows she’s tired of the constant battle of hucking and bargaining.

but yeah! mitzi’s love life is vast and complex and i definitely see her as someone who is more flexible in type than other people are. though there are similarities between her suitors if you really look! anyway, i hope i was able to briefly touch upon this subject because my shipping brain loved your question and kinda went into overdrive, alas. tldr ; her ideal type is wick sable. sorry. once wick learns an instrument the wedding is back on!! … i’m kidding lol. well, mostly <3

[honeyteastar]

Illegal street racing especially motorcycle type racing, meaning that heiji goes to one idk something something probably relating to the org and this is 100% for helping Kudo mind you his ass wouldn’t go to one especially with his bike (I have looked into it and apparently is not opt for actual racing) let’s 100% my evil hc that heiji is a motorcycle head (motorcycle enjoyer moment) BUT HES LIKE CASUAL YKNOWW anyway something something org related aside from case related moment so he signing up for it and he’s 100% underdog moment also kaito is here too.

Smirks this is actually a kaihei/heikai thing btw because ouaghh motorcycle boyfriends please on my knees anyways heiji takes a turn wayy to sharp or worst he legitimately falls (he breaks his fall btw expert of crashing and going insane with his bike <3) and but sadly kinda landed wrong so he’s out of da game but fortunately for him kaito saw that and he goes back n like help heiji, which at first heiji is like “fuck shouldn’t done that but it isn’t the worst but huh taken <insert injury here>” and he limps and gets his bike Kaito is like try’s to help but heiji is like no thanks <- stubborn moment but kaito legit just grabs him and carries him :3c MIND YOU HEIJI DOESNT KNOW THATS LIKE KAITO LMAOOO Kaito entered the race for his own information gaining or something so when rocking fully like all black n stuff so somewhat anonymous moment but he does yap and heiji is like there’s no way its Kudo. Then it’s not like ok nvm… but funny enough me thinks Kaito kinda talks that oh that’s a very stupid thing to do and like highly dangerous and etc with heiji type of bike in this setting and heiji is like 💢 yes i know! And they squabble about it lmao me thinks they bonk each other helmets like omg kissing… also something something down the line you get heiji actually recognizing kaito bike one day while visiting Kudo and just trails it lol and taaadaaa that’s how they meet each other

You can say ig this is a pre relationship thing going on but I really wanted the motorcycle stuff between the two bc is right there guys…

[superkooku]

Okay, here is part 2 !!

So, like I said in my now deleted post (R.I.P), this second part left me with different tastes in my mouth, even more than a few hours ago.

Let's just say that it really sucks to have what could be a good retelling be held back by a few glaring flaws. Btw quick reminder : this is just my opinion and my experience, I'm not a literary critic, don't take my words as the truth. And I won't say anything against the author, just reviewing her book.

Btw, if it was an object, it would be a rollercoaster 🎢. Because there are cool highs but lows that rub me the wrong way.

Here's the bingo, btw. (Green = well handled. Orange = neutral. Red = ugh 😩)

I changed the Ares thing because it's not that interesting (though his lil role in the myth is super neat) and replaced a mistake that @jejesoso pointed out.

Also, there WAS a healing scene but it was setting up the friendship, not romance (also they were kids), and Atalanta was just bitten by a snake. But who knows ? @gingermintpepper could be right and there WILL be a battle before a romantic healing scene later on.

Edit : since no one reblogged yet, I can add that the summary is on my next reblog, if you want to have the slightest idea on what's going on. I forgot to include it earlier 😅

Part 2 - Chiron

The good (from best to decent)

Well, Atalanta isn't OP anymore ! She actually learns things, has emotional dilemmas and even has to rely Asclepius in order to save her from a snake bite (well, she refused, but it's framed as her being prideful, not some "she doesn't need a man" situation). She's a solid protagonist for now.

@aliciavance4228 will probably like this one (at least she would in a better retelling) : Melanippe, here named Ocyrrhoe, was noticed ! She makes a cool appearance as Chiron wants some infos about Atalanta's future (since ir sounds uncertain). There's the reference to her predicting Asclepius' future and demise

I forgot to say it before, but the prose is quite nice ! I also like the lil format change when Ocyrrhoe predicts the future.

Asclepius' personality is actually pretty interesting and I like the way his craft was handled : a bit of mysticism but also him using actual remedies, herbs and operating on sick people.

And he's characterized as a bratty, proud but well-meaning kid who cares about saving others.

The little glimpse we have of his adult self show him already humbler, cheeky and, idk, he's nice to read about. He's not eccentric like on the Epidaurian inscriptions, though 😂.

Chiron too is handled in a cool way. I know, he's not the hardest character to write, but I genuinely liked him. He has a mesh of strict but caring mentor.

Still no badly executed "feminist" message. The characters actually behave like normal people.

The mid :

The author went with Coronis as Asclepius' mother. This isn't a problem, but my judgement will just depend on how Coronis' actions will be treated (I hope with nuance)

Since Asclepius looks like mini-Apollo, it's mentioned that women and men simp on him in this book, lol. A funny irrelevant detail, I know.

Atalanta, from now on, is only said to have been blessed by Artemis. Even the book itself was like "nope, Ares and Aphrodite doing it too is overkill. Let's just keep Artemis" 😉.

As an adult, Asclepius is like "oh hey, Atalanta is hot 😳". Lol. Btw, yes, they have the enemies (to friends) to lovers relationship. Called it ! Also, I would've preferred the feelings to bloom out of emotional proximity instead of the classical "she's pretty" trope. It's not terrible but, yeah

Meleager comes as Asclepius' "manly rival" yayyyy !! My bingo's getting pretty steady. @just-1-scorpio and @amostcuriousmythicist , you were correct 😂 ! He just made a quick appearance so I can't judge him, but yeah, I called it.

Btw, thanks to a name search, I can say that Hippomenes doesn't exist

I like that Asclepius feels so close to Chiron, that he sees when his mentor feels uneasy, that he trusts him so much. And the message "Your family is the one you choose" is nice. Too bad that I hate the context behind this conclusion.

The bad (from tolerable to Apollo)

Chiron (in Atalanta) : you can't become an Amazon if you kill someone in cold blood.

Penthesilea killing Acheans in the Iliad : 👁️👄👁️

The Amazons attacking Athenians in the Attic war : 👁️👄👁️

-Because Theseus took their queen-

This plot point was introduced after Atalanta killed those centaurs, but since they attacked her first, it's okay.

This one is just funny 😂. It makes the Amazons more innocent than they should be, which is a shame because I like some terrifying powerful women.

What's next ? "Maenads don't do sparagmos in cold blood" ?

Where is Chariclo ? If Ocyrrhoe is here, her mother should be near, or at least mentioned. Come on ! Let Asclepius interact with his half-sister !

There are only two other flaws but trust me, those are the BIG ones.

Asclepius and Atalanta have a cute friendly chemistry and I want it to stay that way. But I know it won't ! Listen, we don't have to turn every interesting relationship between a man and a woman into a romance and this is a big example. If they were advertised as friends from the start, then their relationship would be a positive. A classic but fun buddy story. It's a personal pet peeve how friendships between men and women are underrated

I saw this one coming. I saw it coming and yet I'm still disappointed: Apollo's relationship with Asclepius. Or rather the lack thereoff.

Yup, Apollo is a deadbeat that Asclepius only dreams of ever meeting. No, he didn't appear yet, he was only mentuoned but I hate how he's handled so far.

Let me explain: basically Asclepius explains that his father saw him ONCE when he was born then dumped him to Chiron and left to get some milk.

I saw it coming by the way Asclepius sounded uncomfortable talking about his father and how he didn't seem to be close to him. By how, just absent he was throughout Atalanta and Asclepius' childhood to adolescence.

When Atalanta calls Apollo a superficial womanizer, Asclepius sighs but doesn't contradict her (mind you, he's a real loudmouth in this retelling and he found Atalanta arrogant back when the scene happened. So if he was comfortable with his father, he SHOULD have said something).

And why did the book choose to make Apollo a deadbeat? I have a hypothesis coming from what this reveal leads to : because it could end the scene with Asclepius and Atalanta realize they have a "similar" background.

So, to further Atalanta x Asclepius, the author not only sacrificed good plots Epione, Hippomenes and Meleager as the ACTUAL love interests, but ALSO Apollo's relationship with his son ??????

(no, Meleager being "the other guy" isn't enough btw).

Also, info file : she was abandoned by Iasos, her father, and also like Asclepius, she didn't know her mother.

I'm sorry, but abandoning your daughter in a forest to die is NOT the same thing as a busy Olympian god letting his son in his previous disciple's tutelage while still being around go teach him and developing such a close bond to him that his death provoked a devastating grief.

Hahahaha, no. This is another reason why I hate how romance is seen as the be-all end-all situation in media. So instead of the beautiful father-son relationship we have in the myths, we have this absence of anything interesting for these two.

Instead of ranting any further about how good of a father Apollo is in mythology, I'm gonna drop you some actual proof :

(I love this post so much)

Between that one book about Alcestis that @gingermintpepper was reading and this retelling, Apollo's getting dragged in the mud in these retellings, without even having the chance to appear and defend himself 😅😅

So yeah, there's quite a lot of neat stuff in this retelling BUT there also are some very annoying flaws. I hate them a lot.

Edit : also, the lack of relationship between Apollo and Asclepius motivates me to work on my own ideas even more :3. I want to do something with these two.

Atalanta retelling (review)

Since it's divided in multiple parts, I'll divide this review according to those parts.

Here is a prediction bingo I created out of my and my moots' predictions, I'd like to thank @gingermintpepper , @go-rocksquadsfan , @amostcuriousmythicist , @just-1-scorpio , @jejesoso and @margaretkart (in dms) for giving me the ideas.

Note that not all of these predictions are necessarily negative, but pretty obvious for the genre. The free spaces are for "Stuff I should've seen coming"

Since I made it AFTER reading the first part, I'll be nice and only start counting their realization in the next ones. Although I could already be crossing :

Out of place names

"Not like other girls™"

"It's no place for a woman"

Part 1 - Childhood

I must admit I'm pretty relieved.

Since @aliciavance4228 's heated review of Crown of serpents, I'd fear this retelling would be as bad and completely stray from the source material.

But, although it isn't excellent by any means, it does follow the trend of "non-American retellings not being as disastrously inaccurate".

If the whole book has the same level of quality as this first part, it'd easily earn 3 stars, aka kind of decent, has its flaws but nothing too horrible.

Since I review as I go, I may be wrong about some things. If I end up proven wrong, I'll state it in the reblogs.

Summary

It basically tells us little Atalanta's childhood: from her being abandoned by her biological father's orders as a baby to her living with a mama bear, then two hunters meeting and adopting her.

Her rowdy but isolated childhood gets turned upside down when she comes across wild centaurs who burn houses and kill insects for their pleasure. After a difficult fight, she ends up killing them both.

She ends up being taken by Chiron, who saw the whole thing, and also meets a kid Asclepius.

The good (from best to decent)

I'm a sucker for found family stories 😂. So I found the little plot of Atalanta living with her adoptive dads very classic but nonetheless pretty cute. It's my favorite part of the whole thing.

Btw no, they're not a gay couple, they just raised her together. They're basically a hunter family, they taught her to use a bow and arrow, introduced the wild little girl who lived in the forest to humankind and they're just pretty cool guys.

Which gets me to point n°2 : this book doesn't demonize every single man. So the feminist message won't be as heavy handed and clumsy as other retellings. Heck, maybe it may be decently used.

The author seems to have some knowledge of mythology. Yes, this is an actual quality compared to some of the other retellings out there

The book takes place in Greece. There's even a map (something I always like). Bare minimum, I know, but so few retellings reach it these days.

The gods don't seem to be super demonized (for now)

I like Atalanta's little hiding place with lil flowers and all. And her having to give it up in order to grow up, go with Chiron and live

This book makes me more invested in the myth version of Atalanta, whom I only knew from afar (contrary to Asclepius, I didn't spend hours researching her fof personal reasons 😂)

The bad (from actual dislikes to nitpicks)

There's nothing super awful but I have some nitpicks.

Atalanta is way too overpowered. As a 4yo child she is said to be "as strong as a man". At a young age, she can effortlessly carry a tree trunk. Chiron says he never saw anyone as quick and agile as her while she's still an untrained kid.

If she was her adult self, I'd be way more lenient, especially since most of her described feats happened in the myths (like killing the centaurs). Actually, except the beginning, the book is surprisingly myth-accurate 😂. For now.

But my main problem is that she's a KID. After all, she's just a mortal child trained by two mortals but she can defeat two centaurs with only a slight difficulty and a perfect arrow aim ? As a CHILD ? It's too much. Maybe her own training with Chiron will show her weaknesses and what she works on.

If Atalanta was slightly, and I do mean slightly less skilled, I wouldn't be bothered with it.

Tthe book spends way too much time describing how strong she is.

There IS an explanation on why she's OP but I find it out of place, to the point that no explanation would've been a bit better. Basically, it's because she's blessed not only by Artemis (this one makes sense) but also by Ares and Aphrodite??? Who just came walking in the woods for no apparent reason other than "Plot". It's something I'd expect from Pandora and even then, she wasn't blessed with "kid Heracles" levels of strength. I'd expect hard work, difficult beginnings but impressive progress by Atalanta. Not some backstory akin to Wonder Woman

Yeah, she has "not like other girls™" energy. Even as a baby, before being blessed by the gods, she never cried or something.

I'm sorry, but as much as I kinda like her dads as a character, the fact that someone is named Azariel in an Ancient Greek setting immediately bothered me. It's a Hebrew name btw.

The mid

Atalanta isn't a particularly interesting protagonist but she's not that bad either. The two first bad points bother me, but she's not annoying. She's just a typical wild girl who wants adventure and seeks justice.

Atalanta likes the Amazons and wants to join them. It was on the summary so I am not surprised. I'll see how the rest of the book handles it before judging.

The book states that Artemis is fond of them. While Artemis isn't the n°1 member of the Amazons fan-club (that's Ares), iirc she did take a few of them as hunting companions. Correcr me if I'm wrong. So it's okay

Asclepius is here 😂. He appeared for 2 pages in total (towards the end) and is characterized as a bratty boy who's like "ew a girl !". Since he's a kid and kids can be immature, I'll forgive it for now, but I'll be extra nitpicky about this man once he's an adult.

The gods aren't demonized for now and Artemis watches over Atalanta. Though I wonder if gods would need a magical crystal ball to watch mortals instead of having the innate ability to do so

I'll post part 2 in a few days as a reblog.

[darewolfcreates]

WIZARD BABYYYY!!!!

[beaniebabes]

Beanie Baby Official Club Kit, 1999 ☆

[omgafhsfanin2025]

It's him!! The guy with the inconsistent design!!! (I'm bored as fuck)

I'm still not done with the redesign I have no idea what to do with her clothes

[always-a-slut-4-ghouls]

I don’t get why people feel like the Duolingo owl is threatening, if I ever feel like he is I just get mad at him. I could fight an owl. I don’t know if I’d win, but I don’t think I’d lose (two things that can apparently coexist). I think I’d survive at least and that’s not really winning but also not losing.

You wanna be so threatening? Da bør du drepe meg!

[caramelmochacrow]

Photon Maiden's selection album, 4 Un Voyage, finally released!! Let's go!!!

Here are the songs in order:

FriendShip

4 Challenges (ver. 2023)

We Never Stop (ver. 2023)

Hikari (ver. 2024)

Akatsuki (fruits mix ver. 2024)

OVERCOME (ver. 2023)

Linked Ring (ver. 2023)

Collector

24 (ver. 2024)

Into the storm (ver. 2024)

Be with the world (ver. 2023)

Photon Melodies (ver. 2023)

Begin Again

Platinum (Saki Solo cover)

Dear My Friend (Ibuki Solo cover)

Fansa (Towa Solo Cover)

Let The Show Begin (Noa Solo cover)

Your Love ♡

Happy Happy Friend (Cutopia cover)

Kawaikute Gomen (Cutopia cover)

Photon Melodies (TAKU INOUE Remix ver. 2025)