#i really don't know much about this person
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poorly-drawn-mdzs · 1 day ago
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Now I need a lab safety wizard! U
se your PPE, do not microwave food or eat food. Specially in the Ethidium bromide area. Stop touching things with gloves that touched contaminated areas pLEAse!
You can see I'm frustrated lol
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I have sent a helpful Lab Safety Gnome your way. May he guide you, and any students in your proximity to respect the Lab Safety Rules.
#wizard#lab safety#ask#This ask/concept sent me blasting back to the past where I (many years ago) wrote a series of short stories-#-about a chemistry teacher who was constantly at odds with his students regarding lab safety.#The concept being that said chemistry class was a notoriously grade booster due to the teacher giving out test answers.#So you have a group of lassiez-faire students ready to kick back- when 3 weeks into the term the 'easy teacher' keels over dead.#And is replaced by a newer teacher who genuinely cares about the subject and wants the students to learn.#Rest in peace Mr.Ratman. You were probably the best anti-villian I've ever written.#Yes. The Anti-villain; because he's only ever portrayed secondhand by said students.#The whole point was about how much they really hated this guy and their attempts to ruin his life.#So it was up to you (the reader) to untangle what was the truth and what was just a rumour.#It was a commentary (and honestly a personal vent) about the frustrations and anxiety of high academic expectations#And the dehumanization of teachers struggling to motivate a students who push the blame of their failures outwards.#The original is lost to time (and a broken USB). All I have is a spotty memory of some scenes.#I remember it being really damn bleak. If I ever revisited it I think I would give it a more hopeful tone.#May Mr.Ratman be immortalized as the Lab Safety Wizard/Gnome forever more.#If you read all that; thanks for coming down memory lane with me. Don't eat in the Lab. Wear your PPE. Know how to access safety equipment.
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chase-prairie · 19 hours ago
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So you found a dead body in the woods
The worst thing you've worried about, going on hikes, happens. This happens often, in the grand scheme of things. It's always joggers and dogwalkers and hikers. My unlucky day came on October 24, 2022.
So what do you do when you find a dead body?
Look in the other direction and take a breath. Panic wont help you or them.
If you are comfortable, approach them and try to help. If not, it's okay. I was unwilling to approach (they looked real dead) and my 911 operator was 100% totally supportive and okay with that.
Walk a little ways away. There is no reason why you need to keep staring at them. It's okay. Seeing a dead person is really wack!
When you've caught your breath, call 911. My first thought was "Oh god, I don't want to talk to cops." and, good news, it's not cops! 911 responders are different people. They are trained to talk to you, to reassure you, and to help you. They are there for you. They understand you are freaking out. They are kind and patient.
Your new buddy, the 911 person, will help you figure out where you are, exactly. They have access to your location via cell-tower and GPS, but if, like me, you were off-trail (oops), they might need your help navigating to you. I offered to also send a photo, and he provided an email, which he received immediately. I deleted the photo I took right away.
Hang out on the phone with your dispatch friend. They're going to want to keep in touch with you as the paramedics approach. Are you freaking out by chattering too much? Are you freaking out by being dead silent? Both are okay! Apparently, my panic response is to become Super Midwestern Chatty. I was able to make him laugh, which I count as a win.
Holler to the paramedics. My paramedics came deep into the ravine-filled woods, about six men, steering a rolling bed thing. We shouted at each other until they made it to the body. It would have been funny, watching them fumble along, if it wasn't so serious.
Get out of there! The paramedics don't need anything from you. They're busy doing their job. They shooed me back to the trail and to the parking lot. I didn't have to go anywhere near the body.
Meet cops in the parking lot. In my situation, the cops didn't want anything from me. They were just picking their noses in the parking lot while the paramedics did the real work. The cops said thanks for helping, while covering their bodycams, because they're pigs.
Go eat donuts. Christ, that was a lot. Let yourself comedown and get some sugar to kickstart your system.
Feel good that you gave a family closure. Yeah, that sucked. Yeah, your therapist is going to hear about this. Yeah, next time you come to this location, you're going to need a friend with you. But you did the right thing. You'll never know their family, but know that you gave them closure.
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theminecraftbee · 2 days ago
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Grian sits on the edge of a desert cliff, watching the sunrise. His knuckles are bloody. He's had this dream before, and he's lived this moment before. He's awfully tired of it, honestly. He's not even particularly sad anymore. It's hard to be particularly sad, this long after, this much more between them.
But his knuckles are bloody again. There's someone sitting next to him.
"Joel?" he says, baffled.
"Yeah, hi, really weird bloody dreamscape you've got. Literally and figuratively: bloody hell. Like, Scott, he's got this pretty cottage and all these flowers and the single most terrifying version of Jimmy that I've seen in my life. Which serves him right, since he's a bastard, and I told him that. Or, uh, Pearl. She's normal. She's got dogs and... shit, I don't know--"
"Why are you here?" Grian asks.
"Oh, right, I was tasked with asking you if you regret it," Joel says.
There's a long moment of silence. The wind blows.
"I mean. No?" Grian says.
"Right? That's what I said! Blumin' stupid question, that!" Joel says.
"Wait, you mentioned--are you asking everyone that?" Grian asks.
"Yeah! It was all, oh, you've got a car, you can travel, it'll be all poetic like. You've had a 'character arc'--like I'm some, some fake guy--and grown as a person, everyone else has to, would they do things differently now? And I said, man, that's stupid. That's really stupid. But the glowing purple eyes guys--"
"Wait wait wait wait, the who?" Grian interrupts.
"Sorry, do you not know the glowing purple eyes guys? Martyn was acting like you're all buddies or something. Then I punched him. Because it was funny," Joel says.
"No, I know the--they asked you to do this?" Grian says. He takes a moment to try to imagine it. He has some trouble. Joel and the Watchers don't really belong in the same place at the same time for so many reasons that Grian doesn't know where to begin.
"Apparently, I'm not being serious enough," Joel informs Grian. "I kinda get it, actually. Like, everyone but Cleo has been somewhere like..."
Joel looks out over the cliff. It is tall, and Grian knows he cannot see the ground from the top. He had been able to during the actual games, of course, but these aren't the actual games; these are the memories of what brought him to victory, made manifest.
"So I guess I kinda wondered, since you lot always seem so blumin' sad about it," Joel finishes.
"I'm not really," Grian says.
Joel raises an eyebrow.
"I mean, maybe once, but--nah. Not really."
"Cool. That's the last one then," Joel says. "Hear that, weird glowing eyes guys? You act like I'm all weird or whatever but none of them regret it either. Not a single one of them."
Grian looks over the cliff again himself.
"None of us?" he asks, very quietly indeed.
Joel sighs. "All of you asked that too. I'm getting back in the bloody car."
Grian doesn't watch Joel leave. He rubs the blood off his knuckles and watches the sky instead. When he's tired thinking in circles about how he didn't really expect that he would be telling the truth, just then, he starts trying to imagine the trouble Joel might be giving everyone else instead. It's much more fun to think about than the sand that's getting in his socks. He's never able to get sand out of anything, these days, and it leaves him always just a little bit uncomfortable. Oh well; the price of being in a desert. He wouldn't be anywhere else if he had the choice, though, grit in his socks or not.
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shapelytimber · 21 hours ago
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Halfway there with the portraits :D (Please don't spoil me ect ect but I've finished act 1 !!!!! And the Githyanki creche was insane omg)
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[COMMISSIONS]
when he first leveled up I was so baffled he was an occultist djdjdj which *intrigued* me 👀 and I really like that he becomes a demon goody two shoes ! That's fun ! And I love his design omg the horns !! He starts a bit boring, but quickly becomes so much more than what I expected :)
[Astarion] - [Lae'zel] - [Wyll] -
Sketch and more yapping below vvv
But Wyll, my guy, you *have* to stop referring to yourself in third person- "the blade could use some sleep" just say you're tired omfg- it's the perfect blend of him being actually cool af, but annoying about it kfkf also I'm playing a french version of the game, and I know this pissed off the translators because that's not in the french subs- Also if you refer to yourself in third person in french, a way *way* more formal language already, that's not just a bit annoying that's straight up scary shit fnfkk
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I am planning on doing all six main companions :) of course in order from my favorite to the one I feel most neutral about. Don't get me wrong I like them all (for now), but one had to be last-
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lurkinglurkerwholurks · 22 hours ago
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Oh oh I can tell you how I handle this!
First, I must acknowledge that epithets are hard. When writing in a specific character's POV, you have to be careful about describing another character only using descriptors that they would use or it'll feel awkward and weird. (I don't generally think about my sister's height relative to mine and therefore wouldn't refer to her as "the tall one" or even "the taller one", for example, unless it's relevant in the moment. Talking? Not relevant. Her hitting her head on a ledge that I missed? Relevant. That wouldn't be true of someone I just met. If you're tall[er than me] I'm probably noticing it and don't have other ways to differentiate you from other strangers.)
Luckily, I don't usually have to resort to epithets in writing, because readers can generally follow pronouns and support way more proper name uses than you might expect! Pronouns by definition are placeholders for proper names. Where writing gets confusing is when it feels like the pronouns are floating free and unmatched. Reconnecting the proper noun and the pronoun is all you need to reset.
Within a paragraph, use a proper noun enough to be clear. Vague, I know, but it really is an art instead of a science and largely comes down to personal taste. Refining your personal taste can help a ton, and one way to do that is to look at works by people who you feel write these kinds of scenes clearly and cogently. I'm going to use my own writing as an example, just to make it easy for myself.
Structuring your writing so the subject is fairly consistent will help a ton, as will "checking in" with a proper noun when it feels like you've checked in on the other person more recently.
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[alt: The muscles in Bruce’s face, Jason realized, were good at going completely still when surprised. That was useful. He had said intervened like Jason had done it on purpose, throwing himself into this nightmare to save Bruce instead of acting like a petulant, stomping child. He had just a moment to wonder if the look from Bruce was meant as gratitude or as an apology when Bruce turned his attention back to the others. “It should reverse in a few days.”]
In the snippet above, because I'm moving tightly between two he/him characters, I use their names just enough to stick into place who's being reference at any given point. If I had wanted to be extra careful, I could have changed "He had just a moment to wonder" to "Jason had just a moment to wonder."
Over multiple paragraphs, when you're sticking with one person, reconnecting (or what I mentally refer to as "checking in") can happen once a paragraph and really shouldn't be needed more than that.
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[alt: He really didn’t have much of note to say. Dick narrated his way through the canned goods and the dry goods, making jokes about Wally’s Skittles stash and the cans of Spaghetti-Os Roy demanded be kept on hand but no one else ever touched. He talked about a TV show he had been watching and made a joke that elicited a hrmm from Bruce that would have been a laugh from anyone else. And the more he talked, the more he remembered little stories from his week that he had tucked away with a mental note to tell Bruce.
At last, though, Dick had finished his final story and let the call lapse into a pause that stretched into silence. He bit his bottom lip and fidgeted with the rolls of gauze, stacking them into pyramids outside the gutted medical kit. He could never tell with Bruce whether the silences were contented or an interrogation technique, the patience of an investigator applying pressure to a reluctant witness. In the end, it didn’t much matter.]
But really, truly, the TL;DR of it all is you don't need as many epithets as you think; as long as you don't go crazy with your subject and object switches and check in on your connections regularly, you can lean on pronouns way more than you think; and readers can handle way more uses of names than you might suspect.
Me writing a scene with two or more people of the same gender and trying not to get the readers confused, while also trying not to overuse the characters' names or epithets
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gyeomsweetgyeom · 17 hours ago
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⋆⭒˚.⋆ Self-On Kode with Mark ⋆⭒˚.⋆
idol!Mark x f!idol!reader
summary: you and you boyfriend Mark are paired up for an interview, but do you even know you're texting each other? No.
(cw: f!reader, idol!reader)
. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁ ⟡ ݁ . ⊹ ₊ ݁.
Mark got comfortable in the plush, pink chair of the Kode set with a shy smile, "Ah hello, I'm Mark from NCT." He pushes his earbuds into his ears and begins playing his music, "today I'll be known as Cheetah. Um, I couldn't really think of anything else and the fans already call me a cheetah so it was easy to think of."
On the opposite side of the wall, you settle into your own chair while smiling at the camera while introducing yourself, "I was so confused when I was asked to pick a wild cat as my screen name. It was such an oddly specific category, and even weirder when you told me cheetah was already taken. Anyway, I chose Tiger because they're the next prettiest."
Your music begins to play through your earbuds as your phone vibrates from the first message from your partner. "Yo?" you read in confusion, staring at your screen with pure confusion, "is that it? This is a man isn't it? Girls don't talk like this."
On the other side of the wall Mark laughs softly, covering his mouth as he reads the message. "This person is so happy. I've never seen anyone write hi with this many i's."
You and Mark text back and forth for a while, sharing your hobbies and sending memes back and forth until the both of your are giggling madly on your respective sides of the set. Of course, after nearly 2 years together you'd know how to make each other laugh, even without knowing you're texting each other. Your partner still doesn't give you any identifying traits or hints as to who they are. Well, besides clearly being a man based on how he texts.
Following the instruction of the staff, you send a screenshot of your home screen. You pout, feeling slightly bad for your partner. Just two days ago you'd gotten a new phone and hadn't yet had the time to make it yours. It was stuck with the boring default background and a handful of apps you considered to be essential. You explain as much with the text accompanying the screenshot.
And Mark's screenshot? Well, it might as well be just as boring as yours. He has the blur set on the photo so all you see is an indistinct mess of colors. Two distinct blobs which could be the shape of two people or two flowers or two guitars or two cats.
"Wow," you say as you typed out the word, "we are two very boring people. You really don't want me to know who you are."
Mark laughs out brightly while he reads your text, "me? You haven't even changed your own yet!"
"I told you I just got a new phone and haven't had time yet!" You laugh to yourself while typing out your message.
Your joking back and forth gets the two of you off track while you playfully poke fun at each other back and forth until the staff ask you both who you think you're texting. Mark looks at the camera while he tries to think, "I have no clue. It's a girl, surely but it could be anyone. Do you pick random people off the street to do these videos?"
On the other side of the wall, you blush softly, covering your face while your face cools down, "is it weird if I say it's my boyfriend? He just seems so much like Mark."
It's one of the few times you've ever referred to Mark as your boyfriend for any sort media. You and Mark had technically been a public couple for about a year now, since your respective companies had come out with their statements to reveal your relationship. How you'd been able to conceal a year of your relationship was beyond the both of you. Well, a lot of dark, oversized clothes and hats and masks to conceal your faces.
After the company statements, you and Mark seemed to be even better at hiding. You barely glanced at each other at award shows, and if you did, it was only friendly, nothing that could be interpreted as anything else. There were very few glimpses into your relationship beyond birthday and anniversary posts with obscured faces and sharing each other's most recent comebacks on your stories. Privacy was something you both valued and of course you were more than ok with doing any type of promotion with Mark, it just never worked out that way. Until now (not that you knew). Plus, it wasn't like this interview would give anyone any important details of your relationship anyway.
When the staff prompt you both to share a screenshot of your most recently listened to songs, you stare at your screen with a look of blank surprise, "this is just a mix of Drake and Justin Bieber. It's Mark, it has to be."
You zoom in on the picture, mumbling about how you see more music that is so distinctly Mark while on the other side Mark looks at the screenshot you send excitedly. "She's a fan! Of me! Wow, she's listened to Child and Golden Hour and 200! Ok, I have to chill out a bit," he tells himself even as he types out his message telling you that you have good music taste.
You snort at his message just as the staff laugh at the exchange at the same time. The head producer instructs you both to find your baby pictures to send to the other.
You look up from your phone, looking at the camera and the staff, "surely, you'd think a couple who have been together for this long have seen pictures of each other when they were kids, right?" The staff nods in response before you speak again, "well, we haven't! I've only seen what has been posted online. Same for him!"
Mark sends you a picture of him as a baby where he's a few months old and you coo immediately. You zoom in as close as you can drawing your phone closer to you face as you star adoringly at the baby on your screen. "He's the cutest little thing I've ever seen! I've never seen a cuter baby in my life! Oh, I just want to squeeze his cheeks and cuddle him," you gush over the adorable picture of the chubby baby boy with an adoring look on your face.
Mark looks at his phone, the camera, the staff, his phone again, the camera again with a look of pure and utter confusion as he looks at what he can only assume is a child covered in frosting. "You can barely tell this is a human, how is this supposed to help me figure out who I've been texting?" Mark asks, zooming in on the picture while the staff bursts out in laughter. When he finds out who he's talking to...
So when he staff ask for a final guess as to who you've been texting you say Mark's name confidently while Mark ultimately utters out, "Maybe someone from a girl group... maybe it's Yeri."
When the staff ask you both to stand and get ready to face each other to reveal yourselves. Instead of walking toward Mark, you find yourself behind the set so you're behind Mark.
Mark walks forward slowly, waiting to see when he'll spot his interview partner, but when he sees an empty spot, he faces the camera and the staff with a quizzical smile, "was I talking to a ghost?"
They laugh softly and murmur amongst themselves while you finally reach forward and tap his shoulder softly. Mark jumps, completely scared by the touch. He turns to you with his eyes wide with surprise, "you?!"
"Yes, me!"
After you're both seated at the high top table and calmed down from the surprise meeting with on another, you're both ready to talk to each other in front of the camera once again. You smile softly at your boyfriend, "I knew it was you."
Mark scoffs, "how?"
"Yo," you repeat the word from his first message with a poor imitation of his voice, "all the Drake, all the Bieber-- oh my gosh, Mark! Your baby picture!"
Mark laughs, taking your hand in his out of view of the camera, "speaking of baby pictures, what did you send me?"
Your brows furrow softly at his question, "I sent you a picture of me as a baby."
"There's no way that was you. You look like a little cake monster."
"It was from my first birthday..." you pout at Mark.
"Don't get pouty with me, you were completely covered, how could I have known? I can pout too! My face used to be your homescreen and now it's the plain default screen," Mark tells you with a playful pointed look.
"Mark," you deadpan, "you were with me when I got my new phone."
"Oh yeah..." Mark blushes with embarrassment.
"Anyway, who did you think I was?"
Mark squeezes your hand nervously beneath the table, his thumb rubbing at your knuckles a little anxiously, "I had no clue, to be honest. I knew you were a girl but I didn't know it was you."
When the staff ask Mark how he didn't know but you did, all he can do is blush and laugh out a nervous response. You turn to him with a playful accusatory look of your own, "yeah, how come you didn't know?"
"I don't really pay attention to how you text, just what we text about..."
You and the staff coo as you pinch his cheeks and cup his face lovingly, "you're so cute, but you were cuter as a baby."
"My mom says the same thing," Mark rolls his eyes.
Your conversation winds down and you both pose for the selfie at the end. You both pull silly faces, cheeks pressed together and eyes scrunched shut with your tongues sticking out.
Despite the stupid picture you both took, the screen fades to black with a completely different picture of you and Mark laughing while looking at each other with hearts in your eyes and bright smiles on your faces.
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theminecraftbee · 3 days ago
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After he's done listening to the Archeologist's story, the Sheriff frowns.
"Well, that's not fair, is it?" Jimmy says.
"Fair?" Pix responds.
"Yeah, fair. It's not--it's not fair at all! You can't just end it with--they try to be friends for, for the first time ever. And the Codfather gets respect and the Count gets more mature. And they shake hands and, and share magic and stuff. But it turns out them being friends causes the end of the world? That's not fair! That's not a good story at all!" Jimmy says.
Pixlriffs shrugs. "I didn't make it up. It's what's been passed down, and the Ancient Capitol corroborates it to some extent. The Rapture was a very real event in the geological record, and what historical records survive from the Twelve Kingdoms era suggests at the very least some kind of symbolic rivalry between cod and salmon. Maybe a religious one? It's really all quite fascinating."
"Well, yes, but it's not really literal, that religion stuff, right?" Jimmy says. "I mean, uh, I don't know much about all this stuff, but it's like--don't tell Sausage, but Santa Pearla, she's not literal, right? She's like, the idea of the cycle of death and life and all that, but--"
"Recent excavations actually suggest that Empress Pearl was a real historical figure," Pixlriffs says excitedly. "I mean, it seems rather unlikely she caused all the fields in the Twelve Kingdoms to remain fertile until the Rapture on her own, but the number of statues and records we've found even today suggest that she was still a real person!"
Jimmy is silent. He crosses his arms and stares at Pixlriffs until, finally, Pix stops talking.
"It's still not fair," Jimmy says.
"It's not about being fair, it's about what actually happened," Pix says.
"Because the story as I told it went that they made friends to try to make the best of the rapture. And though all the rivers had dried up, the Codfather and the Count laid seeds in the desert, until one day we could go and build our towns there safe, because their seeds made a pond. And, er, that's not all literal either, you know? None of this is really--sorta like Joel is not literally a god, that'd be stupid," Jimmy says.
"Right," Pixlriffs says, nodding. "But we don't tell him that."
"But we don't tell him that," Jimmy agrees. "And I'm just saying that--it's not fair, saying that making up their differences is what made the world end. That's like, like if the moral was that we shouldn't bother even trying."
"I think you'll make yourself sad, looking for a moral in ruins," Pixlriffs says.
Jimmy swallows.
"That's stupid," he says. "That's stupid."
"That's life."
"And it's stupid. I'm going to go bother Joel."
"Good luck with that."
The Sheriff rides away. The Archeologist watches after him for a long time before sighing.
"...and good luck ending this one differently," he says, and he goes back to his dig.
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creamecafe · 2 days ago
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Fate by "Design" | Salesman x Artist!Fem!Reader
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Summary: While doing art in a subway, the Salesman offers you to play Ddakji, a chance to win money. But you wanted his number, when you win your acquaintance with the salesman becomes much more.
Pairing: Salesman x Artist!Fem!Reader
Warnings: fluff, flirting, allusions to smut/sex, but not explicit
Word Count:
Author's Note: This was requested by Crazy4herluv on my Wattpad book Squid Game Imagines/One-Shots. This is also my first Salesman work, so I hope you enjoy!
*Icon used for this header above that I made in PicsArt is from Pinterest. Divider is from @cafekitsune in this post*
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Want a request for a Squid Game character like this one? Check out my post, read my request guidelines and send a request!
Read on Wattpad & AO3 here
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The sounds of the almost isolated subway and people walking is the highlight of your daily routine. You had moved to Korea to work for a art company and you do sketches by hand.
It paid very good money but in your free time you liked to be in the subway and do art for others like New York. People would walk and stop to see what you possibly could be doing.
A lot of the time, couples, parents with their kids or even old people would ask for a drawing each day and you get paid at least $130-200 at the end of the day.
Your art simply consisted of charcoal sketches of the person who requested for the art as semi-realistic as possible with a watercolor splash in the back if they ask.
Sometimes you notice while you're drawing or sketching away looking for people to draw, you would see a man in a black suit.
He had black hair and was always carrying a suitcase with him. He was also very handsome, you thought. When you took the time to actually analyze him or look at him, not in a creepy way you thought, you noticed that he would throw something on the ground and slap people.
This guy must be insane, you thought. Slapping people everyday, but it didn't stop you wondering who he really was. You thought of going up to him and asking if he would like his own portrai. But you were nervous of asking such a good looking guy and you are an artist in the subway, so he was way out of your league.
Today felt like any other day. Until one person, the guy in the black suit came up to you. You were going to pack up for the day when you accidentally dropped pencils and other supplies on the floor, then rolled around. As you were on the ground picking up the supplies, you saw polished black shoes stop and turn in front of you.
You look up and see him. The guy in the black suit looks down at you while you're trying to pick up your stuff.
"Good evening ma'am. I have a question for you."
You got up from the floor and brushed off the germs from yourself from the subway ground.
"Hello sir. I finished my hours for the day drawing so I can't accept any art requests right now I'm sorry. You could always come back tomorrow if you like."
"I'm not asking for a drawing. I'm asking if you would like to play a game."
A game? Is this guy Billy the puppet you thought?"
"What game?" You asked?
"It's called Ddakji. Have you heard of it before?"
Ddakji. It should sound familiar but you felt like you don't know it.
"I don't think so. What is it?"
"It's very simple. You fold two pieces of paper, usually of bright colors as it's a children's game like an envelope and the goal is to throw down the paper as hard as you can so the other person's paper flips over."
"What's the point of playing the game?"
"If you win, I'll give you money. A hundred thousand won."
Your eyes widened at what he said. A hundred thousand won? That amount of money to get while doing art in a subway could take a year or two. Yet here's this handsome well kept money offering to you.
"And if I lose?"
"Well usually I slap people until they win or just give up." That explains why you see this man in the subway grounds slapping people and throwing stuff down.
"But seeing how creative you are. How about a portrait of me? Use all your creativity and imagination you can and give me something."
"Ok. I'll play. But I can change something?"
"What is it?" He turns his head to express curiosity. It's rare that people would ask for a change of things while playing, conducting he's the one in charge.
"If I win, I get to have your number."
The salesman is surprised at your boldness to ask him out.
"My number? You could walk out with a hundred thousand won. What could my number offer to you?"
"Well I might see a better prize than money. I see a real piece of art right here." You raised your eyebrow smirking
He smirks at you. This was going to be interesting he thought.
"We have an agreement then?"
You nodded. "I lose, you get a portrait. But if I win..."
"You get my number." The salesman nods smiling. "Five in a row you have to win." He then pulls out two colored orgami tiles of red and blue from his suit jacket.
"What color would you like?"
"Red/blue" you said.
"Alright then. Ladies first."
You look at him and then the ground. 10 in a row you can do this. You took a deep breath and slammed the envelope on the ground. The guy then slams his envelope on the ground flipping yours around.
It created a loud slapping sound and echoed that it startled you. You look up scared he was lying to his word and might actually slap you. You close your eyes and prepare for it.
"What are you doing?" The salesman asks
"Aren't you going to slap me?"
"You don't have to worry. I wouldn't slap a pretty face like yours. I only want a drawing."
Opening your eyes you took a deep breath. At least you wouldn't be slapped.
"1-0" The guys says. You assumed that was his keeping score
You pick up your envelope and roll up your sleeve. You threw it down but it didn't flip the salesmans. He picked his up and slammed it down flipping yours again.
"2-0". Now the chances of getting this guys number seems low and you might look like a fool. You were weren't to give up just yet. You relied on your skills of carrying an easel and so many supplies per day to the game.
Taking a deep breath, you slam down the card and it flipped the guys. You were smiled wanting to jump for joy.
"2-1" You put up 2 fingers with one hand and 1 finger to the guys face.
He said nothing but smirked. Talking wasn't his thing, you noticed. Probably why you found him attractive.
The salesman picks up his card and slams it and your flips over. It was a continuous picking up and flipping cards. You were getting better as the points were getting higher.
Now the score was "7-8". You were becoming tired and kinda wish you were home right now, sleeping. But
The salesman threw down his card and flipped yours. Now it was 8-8. A tie. Just two more and you get his number. You threw yours down and it flipped over. 8-9. Another slam from the guy and it was 9-9.
This was it. You weren't sure you would have enough energy to draw that portrait of his that he wanted. But you needed enough energy to finish this game.
You slammed it down and saw it flipped over. I won, you thought to yourself. Did I actually win? You thought.
"Congratulations. You won ma'am." The salesman smiled.
Those words felt unreal. "Yes! Yes!" You jumped around happy.
"Now, you asked for my number. I suppose you wouldn't have a piece of paper to write down my number, would you?"
What kind of question was that? You were a artist. Blank papers is all you carry. You grab your sketchbook from your bag and a pen to give to him.
He took it from your hands and wrote down his number fast. He gave it back to you and you saw it.
"What do you plan to do with that number, Miss?"
"I was wondering maybe you want to go out?"
"We can do that. Can I pick the place?"
It was the least you could let him do as he offered you money and kept true to his word to give you his money.
"Sure. I'll text you when I'm available. I might see you here too. Who knows?"
He nodded your response smiling.
"You have a good day madam"
"You too" God how you loved how formal he was and calling you madam and ma'am, even though you weren't really that old.
When you went home, you were exhausted but still smiling and excited that you got the guy's number. You texted your name so he could have yours saved as well. You went to bed, wondering what it could lead to. Possibly just one date or even more.
The next day, was the same thing. Wake up, eat breakfast, pack your things and head to the subway. You kept fixing yourself up for the salesman, wondering if he would come by.
He always comes by, you thought. He just has to. You scanned around the subway to see where he is as you didn't want to move your spot. After an hour had passed, it looked like he hadn't been around.
Maybe asking for his number was a bad idea, that he was avoiding to talk to you, you thought. A man walked by and dropped something not that far from you. It looked like money. Seeing this you get up, pick up the bill and try to call out for the man. But it looked like he was already gone. It was
Written in a black permanent marker, it says “Look at your phone ma’am”. Without thinking you check your phone and see a message. Meet me at the park at 4:30 PM. No need to dress so fancy but wear something you feel pretty in.
Blinking your eyes rapidly, you couldn’t believe what’s in front of you, more likely what’s on your phone. He’s actually texting you. The weird quiet but handsome black suit guy is texting you. You packed your things and went home and went to get ready to meet him in the park.
It was nothing special that you wore. Just a simple sundress/pantsuit but it was still one of the nicest outfits you had in your wardrobe. You kept wondering just what the man in plan for you. Walking around the park, you see the man still in his suit, hands in front looking around, possibly waiting for you, you thought.
Smiling, you walk up to him. When he sees you, he smiles with no teeth but still showing joy. He reaches out a hand. Looking at it hesitantly, you took his hand. The salesman then took your hand, bowed a little and kissed the back of your hand gently. You felt your heart skipped a beat when he did that.
“Hello ma’am. We meet again.”
“Hi. Were you the person that gave me the bill?”
“Maybe, a beautiful woman like you deserves more.”
Was this a dream? Were you dreaming or is this real. This man seemed to good to be true. You two walked to what would be your first date. The place he picked out for the first date was an art museum. It displayed the finest arts across the worlds and many different paintings. The salesman would ask about each piece and how did it make you feel. You responded to many of his questions but kept looking around. You guys kept talking and asking each other questions to get more acquainted with each other.
After the museum, he took you a some place to eat. Then you guys went to get ice cream. He paid for everything and asked if there’s anywhere else you would like to go. If you tried to pull out your card or even cash to pay for your own things, he would refuse so and said he got everything and that anything you wanted he’ll get for you. It had been late, so he dropped you off home and asked how was everything and if you enjoyed it.
You couldn’t thank him enough for the wonderful day you had comparison to just drawing in a subway for hours. Before you left his car, there was a slight tension between you guys that it could be cut with a knife. The man wanted to say something else but couldn’t stop looking at your lips. Looking at him, you see his hands reach towards your face and cup it as his lips softly touches yours.
His lips were so baby smooth and his cologne was so sharp from his neck, it felt like a gas hyptonixjg you. You cup his face, grazing it with your thumb. He pulls away, still looking at you with such yearning. Your thumb still on his face grazed his lips as you said goodbye and gave him a kiss on the cheek.
Ever since that night, you two have been dating. He would take you on dates to other places. Mostly just walks in the park or art related stuff that you like. Your small kisses would turn into small makeouts into something more. He would sometimes, well mostly go over to your place and sleep over. In the mornings he would make breakfast in his underwear. You wish you could draw him right then and there.
He loves to pose for your art or whatever reference you need for your assignment in class. Once a month, he'll take you out to the art store to get whatever supplies you need. Your messy clothing consisted of paint or oil pastel stains is opposite of his clean, ironed and steamed suit. But he loves it either way.
The only time that he was out of the suit was when he was in bed with you. But other than that, you wanted him to be a bit more fun. You wanted to him have more color. Seeing those videos of online of couples doing painting of each others to see both of your art skills.
You begged the salesman to do wit you and he finally agrees. Squealing you get everything ready, canvas, paints, brushes, water and paper towels. You had 10 minutes to try to get each other’s features as accurate as possible
Time passes and both of you guys are done. You show your art of him and it’s him in his suit, pretty accurate and semi realistic but some details were missing. He nods and says it’s impressive of how much you can get done in less than hour.
You ask for his painting and he turns his Canva around and you see you in an almost renaissance like painting. Your mouth dropped and all felt like years of your art skills go away to just 10 minutes.
“What! How’s that even possible? Why didn’t you tell me you were good at art?”
“Well two people can’t be the artists in a relationship. One has to be a muse, to inspire the other.”
You scoffed at his bullshit. He just didn’t want to brag. An idea came in your mind. You grab a paintbrush and leave a stroke of red paint on his face.
“If you want to be a muse, why don’t you have some color on you?”
Smirking, the salesman takes this as a challenge and grabs his paint brush and paints across your face too.
Now you guys were having a paint battle. You tried to paint him more but he lightly grabs your arm and stops you. He leads you the floor, where he’s now on top of you. Seeing this as an opportunity, you grab a bottle of paint that’s open and smeared on his white shirt. He laughs at this and rolls you over where you’re now on top of him, straddling him.
Nothing was said between you both as you kept looking at each other. Like that night of your first date when you guys first kissed. Putting your head down you kiss him and he put his arms around on your back. The paint on your guys’ face mixed with each other. Breath was running out so you decided to stop. Your heart was beating so much just as he was trying to catch his breath too.
Now you’re forever grateful you asked for his number then taking the money. It’s a better reward than what the salesman had to offer you, as you got him, yourself. It felt like a dream come true. Even if it was, you didn’t want to wake up. Everything of being with him was like straight art. Maybe it was meant to be. That day you accidentally dropped your pencils and he came up to you. It could be called fate by others. Fate by design you like to call it.
He was right, one has to be the muse in a relationship and the other an artist. But to him, it was the thing he was missing the most. An new reason to be in the subway that fateful day.
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cryptidswitch · 1 day ago
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Allow me to spin you a yarn about my American education experience
I am 30 currently (31 in March) and I have a bachelors in the Science of Education. A degree which tells people I studied how to be a teacher really hard but fun twist, it isn't a degree I can teach with. My degree is a monopoly money degree.
I did two years at a community college first, knocking out the basics and prerequisites, then transfered to a Bowling Green State in northern Ohio as they are one of the best in the country for education. In total I did four years at BG.
In my third year, I got a letter about my current student debt. Now, I had no grants or savings or scholarships going into college so all my education was paid with loans. By the second semester of my third year I had around $100k in student debt.
Another fact you should know for this is that I have pretty severe ADHD and couldn't keep up with a 15 credit hour schedule each semester so had to slow it down to 12 most semesters. Due to this, what was suppossed to be a four year degree was no longer a four year degree.
I went in to talk to my advisor about what to do because that was so much debt and I needed to be done with school. Asked him how much longer it'd take to have my degree. He replied "Well, at your pace probably another 2.5-3 years." I was shocked, told the dude how much debt I was in already and he agreed I needed to get out. Told me for my last year at BG that all I needed to do was finish off my credit requirement to graduate and I could be done BUT I wouldn't be allowed to teach at all with my degree.
It sucked then, it still sucks now but I couldn't afford that much time so I opted for the credit hour year and called it on my degree.
I graduated with a little over $123,000 in student debt, with a degree that is monopoly money.
Because part of my loans were parent plus loans in my mom's name and were based off her much higher income, my monthly payment back on my loans is about $1,400 a month.
Luckily, I was able yo refinance the FAFSA loans to be based of my much less insignificant income so now I pay nothing on those atm. Still leaves me with 1k to pay each month.
I have a kid and the apartments around us cost so much that we can't afford it, so I live with my mom.
Every single person in my life growing up, pushed me to go to college so I could have a better life when I was older.
They don't tell you what happens if you can't keep up to the "normal" expectations, nor do they warn you how buried in debt you might be on the other side of it.
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mayanneaa · 23 hours ago
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sparkling - ʀᴀꜰᴇ ᴄᴀᴍᴇʀᴏɴ.
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PAIRING : enemy!rafe cameron x kook!reader
SUMMARY : the country club announces a carnival ball, and your parents make you go there with the last person you’d want to be around — rafe cameron.
WARNING(S) : drinking, minor violence, swearing, not proofread
A/N : we're going full kook baby (divider by @roseraris)
WC : 4.6k (bear with me. BEAR WITH ME)
first part, "nights like this" is here!
masterlist.
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You clench your teeth as you walk around the room, waiting for the dress to arrive.
To your surprise, it’s white outside the window, the soft snow covering most of your garden. You sit down on your bed with a sigh.
In two hours you’re supposed to be walking through the door of the country club, your dress flowing on the floor as you move plastered to Rafe’s side.
The last part still makes you fuming.
Obviously, it wasn’t your idea— your parents decided you’d look perfect with the oldest of the Cameron siblings. They seemed to forget that you literally despise him. And you’re pretty sure he feels the same about you.
If this ball was happening a year ago, you wouldn't mind. You'd probably be already all giddy, waiting for your prince on his white horse to come pick you up.
All because of a stupid party. Your birthday party.
It still replays in your head, as if there wasn't anything better to remember.
Rafe kissed you on the rooftop of Tanney Hill. Rafe, the guy you've been obsessed with since, well, fifth grade, kissed you to fulfill your birthday wish. Little did he know he actually fulfilled two of them that night.
But, nothing that's tied to Rafe is easy. Just as you were supposed to leave with him, you caught him with a girl all over him.
Is that enough of a reason not to be happy about being there, showing off by his side at the ball?
“Sweetie, your dress is here!”
Soon after that, your door creaks, and your mother comes in with a long dress in her hands.
It’s beautiful, that’s for sure-- silver, sparkling with tiny glitter pieces. The straps are thin, almost nonexistent.
"Isn't carnival all about being, I don't know, fun?" you say skeptically. "This is going to be so tense. Apart from the fact that I have to be there with Rafe."
Your mother glances at you, her eyes softening. "Ward asked us a long time ago, and you know how your father is about his 'promises'..."
You huff, resting your chin on your hand.
"Plus, you still didn't tell us what happened between you two that made you dislike him so much." You feel a similar sting in your heart. "And you don’t have to, just so you know.”
You give her a defeated look and get up. You trace your fingers down the fabric before you speak up. "I should probably try it on..."
Your mom gives you an excited nod. "Go on!"
She gently hands you the piece of clothing before disappearing behind the door. Do you have any other choice than to get ready? Not really.
You slip into the dress, your figure sparkling in the mirror with every minor movement. It flows over your body most beautifully— a little tighter in all the right places, but not tight enough to feel uncomfortable while sitting, eating, or dancing.
You spin around on your tiptoes, checking yourself out, and a small smile creeps up your lips.
The night before, you used all your most expensive skincare and had a very everything shower. If you have to suffer, at least you’ll look pretty.
You match your makeup to the theme—a whiteish sparkly eyeshadow and lots of highlighter, making you look like a mirrorball—in the best way possible.
With the last run of fingers through your hair you realize it’s almost the time to go.
It’s already dark outside, the moon radiating from the snowy beach in the distance. You grab your heels and bag, hearing your mother calling you from downstairs.
You take a deep breath. It’s going to be okay. It has to be.
The Camerons have just pulled up, their car’s engine dying soundly as you jump off the last step. You look down at your hands and can’t help but notice them slightly shaking.
The doors open, and Ward comes in first, with Rose close by him. Then, Wheezie runs in, dragging Sarah by her hand.
Rafe follows them like a ghost, all quiet when he closes the door behind him.
“Well, look who’s there!”
Your father directs these words to the oldest of the Cameron siblings. You glance at Rafe and see his eyes slightly widen as your dad comes up to him. Almost as if he’s thrown off by it.
He quickly regains his typical confidence and shakes the man’s hand, steady and sure.
“Hi!” Sarah comes up to you, a cheeky smile spread on her face. She looks as gorgeous as ever— her blonde hair pinned up in a half-updo, some strands hanging out and curling around her face.
You hug her, lingering for a bit before pulling away and noticing Wheezie looking at you.
“Well! There goes the princess,” you say, bowing in front of her, so low you’d fold in half. The young girl giggles, and you feel your heart warm up.
"Come on, girls! We're going to be late!"
Rose is already waiting by the door, tapping her heeled foot on the wooden floor.
You glance at the Cameron sisters, rolling your eyes.
"I saw that, young girl."
Sarah snorts behind your back, and you send Rose a sheepish smile. When you run your eyes around the room, you notice Rafe staring at you.
He has a total poker face. Not a single muscle moves when you examine his features, but his eyes speak, or rather scream a million words. There's a hint of anger, making you grimace.
You just have to show off for a little while by his side, and it will be over before you even notice.
You tell this to yourself as you walk out the door, still feeling his gaze on your back.
It's going to be a long night.
The parking lot outside of the country club is already filled with expensive cars when your family and Camerons arrive.
You get out and the cold air quickly hits you, a sharp breath sneaks out of your lungs.
“Okay…” You whisper to yourself, watching Rafe slam the car’s door as he and his family come out. “Remember, just a few hours.”
“Are you ready?”
You turn around and see your father already standing there with Rafe. How the hell did this boy get here so quickly?
“Do we really have to?” You try, eyeing Rafe and noticing his jaw clenching.
“Y/n…” Your father tilts his head and gives you one of his looks, and you know there’s no point in arguing any further.
You turn to Rafe, feeling a lump in your throat appear.
“You’re cold.” He says, looking you up and down. You grimace.
“Excuse me?”
Rafe gestures at your body, “You’re literally shaking.”
You look down, and he’s right— in all these emotions, you didn’t really see it. “Whatever.”
Now it’s him who twists his lips, as if he wants to say something, but changes his mind at the last moment.
“Why do we even have to show off together like some monkeys in a—”
“Are you two coming?” Your mother interrupts you by exclaiming, already waiting at the door.
You glance at Rafe once again and let out a muffled huff. “Let’s just get this done.”
The silent treatment is nice, you have to admit. He follows you without a word, and soon enough you are on the last step.
You take a shaky breath. Most of the people are already there. All the thoughts hit you at once— what if you accidentally slip? Or spill your wine? What if—
Rafe doesn’t let you finish that sentence in your head, because he opens up the door and clears his throat, giving you a signal to finally move.
You startle and quickly get in, immediately getting hit by the wave of warm air and the heavy smell of candles mixed into it.
Rafe’s presence by your side is radiating. You feel it, almost as if he was burning, just inches away from your arm.
You can’t help but remember the memorable night it all went down. It felt the same, yet so different.
Suddenly, Rafe puts his hand on your waist, making a shiver run down your spine. His touch is soft and barely even there as if he’s disgusted to even touch you. Despite yourself, you feel a sting in your heart, and can’t help but wonder how many times it will happen again tonight.
An older man comes up to you two. You know him from the golf field, or at least that’s what you think. He sends you both a smile, before reaching out for your hand and shaking it with such a power you’re almost sure your arm popped out of its place.
“Hello there, Ms. Y/L,” he says, then directs a nod towards Rafe, “Young Cameron. Tell me, what do you think about this?”
“It’s beautiful,” you say, looking around properly for the first time.
The whole place is decorated with such elegance— silver elements mixed with black and white. The glasses on the tables are already filled with champagne, waiting for the guests to come and try it. And, Lord, is that a live band performing on the stage?
The lights reflecting from the crystal accents gleam in your eyes, and you don’t even notice when the corners of your mouth have risen.
They must’ve spent a fortune on this.
“I’m glad you like it,” Mr. Cohen, if you remember his name correctly, says, his eyes trailing off to the dance floor, slowly being filled up with pairs ready for the opening dance. “Oh! Perfect timing. You’ll still get to join. Isn’t that wonderful?”
Your face falls. You discretely steal a glance at Rafe but aren’t able to see anything past his stupid neutral face. You look down, and he takes his hand off your hip in a second, stretching it out as if he got burned.
“Come on!” Mr Cohen hurries you, and you look at him while clenching your jaw. You send him the most polite smile you can make up on your face at the moment, and, defeated, slowly make your way to the crowd.
“You don’t have to do this.”
This is the second time Rafe has spoken up this night. Did he vow to only speak in single sentences for the whole ball?
You look at him skeptically, “As if you don’t know my parents. And Ward. Let’s just— get it done. After that, you can go to your friends, and I can go my separate way.”
He raises his eyebrow but doesn’t say anything. A few women smile at you when you and Rafe squeeze through the other pairs, finally finding a decent place.
The musicians start to play a soft and slow melody. The violin goes first, the sweet notes sounding through the whole room, accompanying the moving pairs.
Rafe’s hands find their way to your body. He holds you close, so close you can feel the tension in his muscles.
You try not to look at his face, because every time you do, your mind wanders. To the moments before that stupid kiss, to when it was just you and Rage against the world. If only you didn’t kiss, maybe everything would’ve been different.
You’d eventually move on, and seeing Rafe switch out his girls after less than a week would hurt less.
But, what matters is present. And right now, want it or not, you stand on the dance floor, so close to the boy you once swore you’d marry you can feel his irregular breath on the top of your head.
Rafe spins you around, and you realize you have dissociated for a while. He stares down at you, a shadow of a grimace sneaking up on his face. The heat rises to your cheeks, and you’re not really sure if it’s from anger, or maybe something else.
You swear you feel his touch on your waist tighten, the place where he’s resting his hand burning through the material. You clench your teeth. You’re almost sure your heart racing can be heard by the pairs near you.
It’s almost done.
You look around, trying to focus on anything else. The piano joined the melody, making it heavier. It builds up the rhythm, nearing the end. There are, what, two spins left before you’re finally free.
Yours, as well as Rafe’s movement, loosened up, his broad shoulders less tense than before, your body moving smoother as well.
When your eyes return to his face, he’s already looking at you, at every feature. For the first time, you see something else in his eyes.
Regret.
He notices he’s been caught, and doesn’t seem to care. His eyes lazily move across your face, but the emotions change as quickly as they appear. You furrow your eyebrows as he spins you around for the last time as if you are the only ones on the dance floor.
Someone accidentally bumps into you, pushing you even closer to Rafe. Does this have to happen to you?
He grips you a little harder. The last chord plays out, essentially ending the dance, and you pull away as fast as you can. His breath hitches, almost unnoticeably. His hand lingers in the air for what feels like an eternity to you. You look in his eyes you’re unable to decode for the last time before giving him a stiff nod and getting off the parquet, your heels’ clicking lost between the steps of others.
The crowd thins out slowly, and Rafe’s gone from your eyesight before the next song starts.
You sit down at the long table. Dinner is about to start, and the waiters are smoothly spinning around, either getting all the food ready or adding champagne to the crystal glasses.
You lean back on the chair, take a long, deep breath, and explore the table with your eyes. Many people are still dancing, so not all the seats are taken. Each of them is already assigned. You’re reading the cursive letters on the note left by the seat next to you when someone’s voice appears behind you.
“I fear that we don’t know each other.”
You jump up in your place and turn around. A tall, dark-haired boy your age, or a little older, is standing there. He smiles and sits down on the chair beside you before he introduces himself, “Callum SMTH.”
“Y/N Y/L,” you answer, resting your chin on your palm. “I haven’t seen you around.”
Callum laughs, and you hold back from furrowing your brows. “I’ve been gone for my studies, but, finally, I’m back.”
You open your mouth to say something but get interrupted by the clinks of some utensils. Both you and the boy look up.
Rafe’s sitting down right there in front of you. His jaw tightens when he glances at you.
“Cameron? Is that you?” Callum says, and you raise your eyebrow. “Man, I haven’t seen you in ages!”
Rafe looks him up and down, forcing a smile that doesn’t even reach halfway to his eyes. “Yeah, and I wish it could stay this way.”
Your eyes widen while Rafe doesn’t look bothered. Callum grimaces and opens his mouth, so you quickly interrupt him by getting his attention back on you, “So, what are these studies about?”
The boy regains his confidence and starts rambling a seemingly learned-by-heart speech about some law studies in LA. You can’t help but sneak glances at Rafe between nodding and humming.
He sits still at the table, his broad shoulders straight as he looks around, obviously avoiding the sight of you.
Soon enough, the seats are full, and the president of the country club starts his speech. His monotonous voice makes it hard for you to keep your eyes open, forcing you to constantly blink in order not to fall asleep.
When he ends, you automatically join the applause, softly clapping your hands with a taught, polite smile.
Everyone gets to eating and chatting, and you immediately curse the person who set up the seating arrangements.
“So, Miss Y/L, how’s it going at school?” Ms. Thornton asks as you pour some juice into your glass.
You look up, your fingers intuitively tightening the grip, only to see everyone sitting close by looking at you with a curious expression— including Rafe, although his fave is more of a typical Cameron poker face.
“Well,” you start, and you feel your cheeks warm up from the attention. “It’s… fine. I started volunteering at the hospital, and—”
“Ooh, how ambitious!” Some older man exclaims, cutting his steak in half. “Isn’t it the same place our Rafe volunteered in his sophomore year?”
You lock eyes with him and watch as he takes a breath. But, instead of saying anything, he just nods.
“Speaking of Rafe,” An elegant, adult woman says, “Do you have anyone? You know, my cousin is already engaged with his fiancée. I’m sure someone has caught your eye!”
You almost choke on your drink, covering it with a small cough. Callum looks at you with wide eyes, but you dismissively wave your hand at him.
Rafe’s eyes are burning holes in you as he speaks up, his voice steady and calm, “I don’t think so. Not lately, at least.”
The woman gives him a hum and starts talking about her cousin’s upcoming wedding, and Rafe falls silent.
You can’t help but knit your eyebrows. You’ve never seen Rafe this quiet at an event like this— usually, he’d be chatting with some golf buddy or his father’s friend, or at least Topper or Kelce.
Tonight, they sit a few seats away, exchanging worried and suspicious looks.
You try to tell yourself it doesn’t bother you. His well-being is not your business or your misery.
And yet, that’s all you can think about for the rest of the dinner.
After everyone has eaten, the time for the dessert is very relaxing. Some people stayed at the table, and many returned to the dancefloor.
You now sit with Sarah and Wheezie, drinking one of the drinks offered to you by a waiter.
"And so, you know, I told her what I think about her, and she—" You don't get to finish because Ward comes up to the three of you.
He kisses his daughters on their heads and smiles at you.
“How are you all doing?” he asks, leaning on the chairs.
“All good, dad!” Sarah answers before she takes another sip from her glass.
“What about you?” he turns his head in your direction, a sly expression slowly creeping up on his face. “I must say, you and Rafe made a beautiful pair at the opening dance.”
Your breath hitches, unnoticed by the others. “I’m glad you liked it.” That’s all that escapes your lips.
“You know, I’m very grateful you agreed upon this. I’ve heard Rafe talking about you a lot, so I figured out I could ask your parents…”
He goes on, but you don’t catch any more words. It feels as if the world stopped— the music suddenly much quieter, overflowed by the racing pulse of your heart.
Rafe was talking about you.
All you’ve experienced from him for the past months were grimaces, snarky comments, or looks that could kill you.
And now Ward is telling you his son was fucking talking about you?
You open up your mouth, about to form a respond, when you hear gasps cutting through the air, followed by a loud bang.
You exchange a look with Sarah and both dart up to your feet.
“What the fuck is—” you say in between panting, going through the hall after your best friend.
You two have to squeeze through the people surrounding the scene. Sarah makes it out first.
“Rafe!” she calls out, and you practically feel your heart go all the way to your throat.
When you finally push the last person and manage to take a big breath, you can’t help but curse loudly at what’s happening in front of you.
Callum is on the ground, holding his hand to his nose, all covered in blood. Rafe is standing above him, irregular pants coming out of his lungs as he stares at the boy. He’s fuming.
Your eyes and Rafe’s lock together, and you see his expression change for a second before he shakes his head and storms out the room, going straight outside in the cold.
You come closer to Callum laying on the ground, quietly throwing cuss words under his breath. You’re frozen to the spot you are standing in.
The only thing you can hear in your head is your heartbeat. All the talking melts together. People pass by, accidentally bumping into your shoulders, but you can’t care less.
You should help Callum.
It’s the right thing to do. He was polite for the whole night, making small talk and passing you every juice you wanted, unlike Rafe who constantly shot glares at you and acted as if even the thought of touching you disgusts him.
But when you look out the big windows, and see Rafe’s tall figure making its way through the snow, you know. You just know.
Isn’t that a reoccurring thing? Whatever you’d do, you always end up near him. No matter how hard you’d try to stop it.
It’s like the gravity pushed you into his arms. Like the universe made it clear.
You and Rafe.
The little voice in your head calls you. You’re not sure id it’s real, or if maybe it’s just the illusion from the drinks you’ve had, but the word ring in your head.
Go.
Go.
And so you listen.
The freezing air hits you like a slap across the face. Your shoulders are fully exposed and you start to regret not grabbing your fur bolero on the way out.
“Rafe!”
He slows down and turns his head to you. His eyebrows are arched and knit, and you notice he clenches up his fists— the knuckles still painted red.
“Go inside,” he grumbles in a voice soaked with anger. “You’ll get sick. Leave me alone.”
You huff. “No. No, no, we’re not doing that,” you say as you almost catch up to him. He doesn’t stop, so you pull his arm. “Rafe!”
Rafe stops in his tracks, and you feel his hand shaking under yours. “Wha- What the fuck are you doing?! Now you’re just punching people? Talking about me so much that Ward himself asked my parents to make me—”
His face goes paler than the snow surrounding you.
“How do you know that?”
Your lips twist in a grimace. “Ugh, fuck that right now. Why did you punch Callum?”
Rafe looks down at his knuckles, and his voice comes out confidently, “He deserved that.”
“But why?” Your voice raises, and you feel the anger that’s bubbling up inside you going dangerously close to the edge. “Do you just hate the idea of me even talking with someone else? You can’t bear seeing me enjoying something or—”
“I did it because I care about you!” he shouts out, his voice trembling. Your eyes widen.
“You care about me, so you decide punching the first guy I’m just talking with?”
“He was talking shit about you!” he finally spits out, now animating with his hands. “Talking about how you’re just a dumb bitch who knows nothing about life because she lives off of daddy’s money. Was I supposed to just- just let him say that?”
You hold your breath, your brows furrowed, and Rafe continues. “Well, I couldn’t. Because, for fuck’s sake, I love you, Y/N!”
The bubble bursts with the last words. You push him away, your vision blurry by the tears hanging of your eyelids. “Yeah? You love me? Well, I think you presented that perfectly at the birthday party. When you decided it was a perfect timing to make out with some bitch while I was literally standing outside the door—”
“What the fuck are you talking about?” Rafe stops you mid-sentence. You wipe your tears, and when you can see clearer, you see the frightened look on his face.
“Don’t act stupid, Rafe. If you wanted to just kiss me and check it off your list, you could’ve just said that instead of acting like you felt what I did too.”
He grimaces. “I have no idea what do you mean—”
You let out a frustrated laugh, still speaking loudly through the night. “Oh? You don’t remember? Taking some touron to your room when you were supposed to drive me home?”
You see the moment it clicks in his head. His face falls, and he turns around from you, letting out a shaky breath. “I have never kissed her.”
“Wow. You can’t even say that to my face—”
Rafe looks at you again. “I have never kissed her. I don’t know what the fuck did you see, but nothing happened. If you stayed there for longer you’d know that I pushed her away in a second and went to look for you, but you were already leaving with Topper.”
Your heart misses a beat. Or maybe two. He must be lying, right?
“No. Nononono, but- but if that’s what happened, why didn’t you…”
He snorts. “What? Talk to you after you admitted it was a mistake?”
You throw your hands in the air. “I freaked out! I thought I was just a new notch in your belt, so this was the only way I could protect myself from being hurt even more!”
“Do you know how I felt? I’ve liked you—fuck it, I’ve loved you—for two years and I finally got to kiss you, and then you just tell me to forget it?” Rafe says, his voice much quieter now.
You feel your cheeks grow red when he gets closer, his lips inches from yours. “I thought it was for the better-”
He doesn’t let you finish. He cups your face and pulls you closer, connecting your lips together.
Someone has to pinch you, because this does not feel real.
You cautiously wrap your arms around his neck, letting all the emotions spill.
If the kiss on the rooftop wasn’t like in all your bedtime scenarios, this one definitely gets closer.
It’s passionate, fierce— just like Rafe. It’s out of the world. He’s burning, the warmth going everywhere: from your lips to your cheeks, to your heart. You are almost sure his is beating louder than yours.
He sighs into your lips, breaking the kiss to get some air, and you feel your mind spiral. Rafe’s eyes meet yours, and there’s not a glimpse of the emotions from earlier.
“Do you believe me now?” he whispers, softly brushing his lips on the corner of your mouth.
You hum, “Maybe.”
“Good.” He pulls you to his chest, resting his chin on your shoulder. You try your best to remain calm, although, if you were alone, you’d probably be jumping all over the ground. “By the way. Ho told you I was talking about you?”
“Ward... Didn’t know you were so devoted, Cameron.” You say with a giggle. He snorts and rolls his eyes.
“That old…” he mumbles, “Well. I can’t imagine otherwise.”
The corners of your mouth rise. You turn your head to the country club. “Don’t you think we should—”
You step back, or rather try to, but Rafe quickly pulls you back to him. “They’ll be fine.”
You let out a hitched breath.You don’t know what this exactly is. Or how it’ll go.
But you trust the universe with this one.
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okay well !!! since you’ve reached this moment of the post i’d like to thank every single one of you for being as excited as i am for this one shot to come out, and sharing your energy with me through the comments asks etc. while i didn’t answer every single one of them, i want you to know that i see them, and i’m so so grateful.
this was super fun for me to write and for the first time i’ve felt such a motivation!!!
i know it’s kinda weird to get this dramatic about it but seriously, it means the world to me, especially considering that i started what, a month ago??
there’s not a SINGLE nonchalant bone in my body
i’m rambling now so as the ending note i hope you all enjoyed it ;)) tysm for waiting and sticking around, love youuu
| ۶ৎ taglist (thank you for liking it sm!! love you) :
@maybankslover @hypnotizedstarkey @akobx @f4irywor1d @binforfeelings @belle101200 @jkrafe @enjoymyloves @eloiavicki @thescooponsof @drewwhor @fallingwallsh @pillowprincess4him @mima116 @lex1031 @stayjellasbitches @dedpoetess @teenwolfbitches28 @drewrry @wellwellhereiam @tequilawithissues @houisfuck28 @midsoulz @whydoineedastupiduser @ltristessedureratoujours @eloiavicki @emeloyy @rafecameronsbitch @perfectmenarefictional @sunflower-hood @buckyssbestgirl @faithywaithy2006 @angvl3tears @lmg-stilinski24 @crybabyreads @enjoymyloves @lvrsvfx @drewstarkeytruelove @otheliesstuff @watersquirtpewpewboomm @drewstarkeyslover
if i missed anyone i'm SO sorry i tried to keep up
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jayparked · 3 days ago
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can u do 52 and 76 with jay🥺🥺 (quite he is yandere if u wanted too?)
WARNINGS: IMPLIED MAFIA AU???? LMAO (idk where tf this came from), yandere jay? (idk if i did it right), possessive jay, he threatens to kill someone, orgasm denial, dom jay, marking, spanking, overstimulation, pet names, dirty talk, rough unprotected sex, fingering (why tf are there so many warnings for a drabble omfg)
WC: 811
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"who is he?" jay demands. his jaw is clenched as he waits for your response, eyes wild and frantic.
"i- jay i told you. my father insists i be seen with him-"
jay's hand smacks the wall right by your face. although it makes you jump, you know he doesn't do it in an attempt to scare you. it's just a way for him to let out the emotions he's feeling stirring inside.
"your father," jay snarls and pulls away from you, laughing maniacally while shaking his head until his hair is falling over his eyes, "i bite my tongue, follow every order- excel at every mission assigned to me, and he still doesn't see that i'm the one he should be trusting you with." disbelief is dripping from his tone.
your shoulders relax and you take a step towards him. "jay," you whisper softly, "it's purely transactional, you know that. my father just wants me to be seen with this guy so his competition backs off and finds new territory. i promise he won't get in our way."
"i'll kill him. that'll surely get him out of the way." jay laughs again, the muscles in his back tensing even more.
"i promise what's-his-name will be gone before we know it."
jay pauses, pointer finger pressed firmly to his lips before he turns and points it at you with a sly smile. "you don't know his name."
you're about to reply when you realize it's not a question, but a confident realization. so, you smile softly and wait instead.
you didn't have to wait long. because just moments later jay is pushing your head down into the mattress with your ass up in the air; the perfect position for him to lay possessively harsh smacks against your skin while he rapidly pounds his raw cock deep inside your cunt. your neck and chest are littered with fresh bright red hickeys and bite marks, his desperate way of claiming you.
"'s too much!" you cry out, eyes shut tightly as your toes start to curl with the amount of pleasure building up throughout your body. jay's pace is relentless, his hand smacking the swell of your ass yet again making you yelp. the sting brings a fresh string of tears to your eyes, your hands fisting at the bedsheets around you as some sort of leverage.
"fuuuck, baby. i can feel this tight little pussy gripping me even more. you want to come?"
"y-yes, I- please-"
"hmm...but do you really deserve to?" he leans forward until his face is next to yours, lips ghosting over the skin of your ear. "tell me who you belong to, baby. tell me who's the only person that gets to have you like this."
you scream out his name and jay promptly rewards you with a particularly harsh thrust. finally reaching your limit, your body lets go, the dam inside you bursting while your orgasm ripples throughout your body.
"that's it, baby, oh that's it," jay groans and flips you onto your back. your eyes flutter shut, expecting him to give you a break for a moment before he chases his own high. but, he clearly has other plans.
"oh i'm not done with you." his fingers fill the space his cock just stretched out, pushing your juices back inside at a cruel, slow pace. his fingers beckon you toward him, calling you back to pleasure as he watches your body tremble with overstimulation.
tears pool from the corners of your eyes, your nails digging into his biceps, desperate for him to ground you.
jay grabs your chin and turns your face towards his, grumbling out, "look at me."
immediately your eyes are open and meeting his hooded gaze.
"you know i'll do it right?" he grunts, "i'll kill anyone who thinks they have a chance with you. you're mine. i dont care what i have to do or who i have to hurt to make sure it stays that way." there's a hungry fire behind his eyes, his fingers picking up speed.
"mmm, fuck, oh my god. jay i-" your own moan interrupts you, the sentence long lost in the void of your mind as the painful pleasure he's inflicting upon you blinds all of your senses.
"look at you, squirming under me, all flushed and pretty looking. can't even take a little teasing, can you? i'll make sure no one else wants you with how badly i'm about to ruin you again."
your second orgasm is already quickly approaching, your brain humming the more he talks. he's not even talking to get a response to you, he's more-so speaking his threats and intentions into the universe, willing anyone to dare test them. and you'll be damned if you didn't stand confidently next to him and watch as he burns down the world for you.
♡ for part of my 1k follower celebration ♡ masterlist
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nakylvr · 1 day ago
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— CAUGHT!
daniela avanzini x tmasc!reader
summary: in which your girlfriend finds out you, are the vigilante that's been running the streets, when you show up beaten and bruised.
warnings/tags: fluff, established relationship, spiderman!reader, mild language
rewatched tasm and had to make something...i love superhero!aus
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pain. all you felt at the current moment was pain. stumbling down the alleyways of new york, you were breathing shallowly while trying to see through your mask that was essentially torn in half. one of the eyes ripped off showing your bright pupils, and there was a large tear along the side accompanying the bleeding mark on your face. one of your ribs might've been cracked judging by the sharp pain and slight difficulty to breathe. you were limping due to landing on your ankle during the fight, probably fractured or at least sprained. you should've known better than to get into a fight you weren't determined you could win, and yet you did anyway.
glancing around, you find yourself in front of your girlfriend's apartment. you don't entirely remember how you got here, but you continue to walk around the building. staring up at the building, you take a deep breath before planting your hands and feet on the wall, slowly starting to climb up the wall. you can hear your heart beating in your ears, your head pounding as you move and eventually reach the window of her bedroom. removing one of your hands from the wall, you take the remainder of your mask off and look through the window, seeing daniela sitting on her bed reading a book. you knock on the glass a little harder than you anticipated, watching the latina jump and look over.
you can see her say "what the fuck" before she quickly gets up and goes to the window, opening it and seeing you clearly. but, you're in too much pain to notice or even remember that you were still in your outfit. letting her be the first person (excluding your aunt) to know who spiderman was.
"yn? what the fuck?" daniela says, her tone sounding angry but you know she's far from it with the expression on her face. she grabs your arm and pulls you inside, and you land on your back with a dull thud as you hit the ground.
"dani," you choke out, coughing up a bit of blood. the light in the room feels brighter than it is, and you have to close your eyes to keep your head from spinning.
"jesus fuck. what the hell yn?" daniela kneels down next to you, her hands cradling your face to make you look at her, your eyes tiredly opening at the feeling. "what happened? what did you do? why the hell are you wearing a fucking spiderman outfit?"
she's asking the questions so fast you can barely keep up, only really hearing the last one which is the one you most expected. "it's me," you murmur in response.
her eyes widen, looking over your face and then trailing down to see the parts of your suit ripped open with open wounds bleeding. she tries not to think on the fact you're a vigilante for too long, shaking her head and grabbing your arms. "get up," she tells you, pulling your arms.
it takes all your energy to pull yourself up off the ground, and immediately your legs are wobbling and you slouch against daniela, hearing the curse she mutters while wrapping her arm around you to keep you standing. she then guides you to her bathroom, sitting you down on the edge of the bathtub. "stay here," she says before leaving the bathroom.
you close your eyes, focusing on breathing that hurt every time you inhaled causing you to cough and feel an extreme sharp pain in your side. "fuck," you curse quietly. you're not sure how much time passes until you hear footsteps approaching and you slowly open your eyes, your vision slightly blurry but managing to make out daniela with a first aid kit in her hands. "dani..."
"don't talk," she tells you, stopping in front of you and setting the first aid kit down on the sink counter. "how the hell do you get this thing off?" she asks, clearly talking about the suit.
tapping the spider logo on your chest, your suit shrinks into a small trinket off your body, leaving you in just your boxers, causing daniela's eyes to widen and mumble a curse under her breath.
"okay...not going to ask," she murmurs. looking over your body and seeing the different cuts and bruises. "god, yn..." she sighs quietly. "you look like shit." she opens the first aid kit, pulling out a few different things from it.
"feel like it," you mumble, your eyes drooping closed.
"don't close your eyes," daniela tells you, pouring some rubbing alcohol on a pad before pressing it on your cheek.
"fuck!" you gasp at the stinging pain you immediately feel, your eyes shooting open.
there was a silence that filled the room after that as daniela put bandages around your waist and other spots that were bleeding. but it was far from a comfortable silence. you knew she was upset at multiple things, but you didn't know how to talk about it. your aunt was the only one who knew you were spiderman, and she found that out on accident, so you hadn't really prepared for when others would find out.
"i'm sorry," you mumble.
"don't start doing that." daniela shakes her head. she finishes with the last bandage and takes a step back to look at you better, letting out a short sigh. "were you ever going to tell me?"
you look down at the ground at her question. it takes you a moment to respond, both from the throbbing in your head and trying to figure out how to put it. "eventually," you answer.
"eventually?" daniela repeats. "what the hell does that mean?" she crosses her arms over her chest.
"it means i..." you take a shaky breath. "i didn't want you to know and possibly get hurt. i-i didn't want to risk losing you," you answer quietly.
daniela's face softens at your response. she sees you look down at the ground again and she grabs your hand causing you to look at her. "you aren't going to lose me, yn," she says in the same voice. "and while this is definitely not how i would've liked to have found out considering you're completely beaten and bruised, i'm glad you came to me."
"i didn't know where else to go," your voice cracks slightly, your breathing coming out in light wheezes from the pain you were feeling. "all-all i could think about was if i-i didn't get away i would die a-and i w-wouldn't see y-you and-"
"hey, hey," daniela interjects, her hands moving up to cup your face and seeing the tears starting to form in your eyes. "breathe, yn. you're okay. everything is okay. i swear." her thumbs wipe away the few tears that fell from your eyes. "i love you, okay? nothing will change that." she presses a soft kiss to your lips.
you can feel your heartbeat finally slowing down to an even pace when she kisses you, sighing softly against her lips as your arms snake around her waist. when she pulls away, she looks down at you with such love in her eyes that it makes your breath hitch in your throat.
"i love you too," you say quietly.
"c'mon, let's get you into some clothes. i think there's still some of yours from when you were last here," daniela says. grabbing your hand and gently pulling you up onto your feet.
you follow her back to her bedroom, standing there silently as she finds the clothes of yours and helps you get them on. once you've changed she grabs your hand again, going over to her bed and lying down on it while pulling you along with her.
you lay down on top of her, hearing the quiet gasp that escapes her lips at the sudden weight on her, but she doesn't mind it. you were honestly like a weighted blanket when you did this, and she knew how much pain you were currently in, so she didn't say anything. your head rests on her chest as you close your eyes to try and ignore the throbbing in your head, hearing her heartbeat calm you down so you were breathing correctly again. one of her hands drags its fingers through your hair, playing with the strands causing you to immediately feel the exhaustion seeping through your body.
"thank you," you mumble.
"don't thank me," she whispers. "i'm just glad you're okay."
you nod a little bit, feeling yourself about to fall asleep just by the way she was playing with your hair and her familiar perfume as you put your face in her neck. "i love you."
"i love you too." she presses a small kiss on your head. "get some sleep. i'll be here when you wake up."
a short hum escapes your throat at her words and within the minute you were passed out asleep on top of her. she glances down at you, her eyes wandering across the bruises that were already beginning to form on your skin and the bandages she used to cover the open cuts you had on you. she lets out a quiet sigh before closing her eyes, knowing she'll have to have a long talk with you tomorrow about all of this. but not for now. for now, you were okay, you were safe, and you were in the arms of the girl you cared about the most. and for now, that was enough.
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mytragedyperson · 2 days ago
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Honestly, for some reason my brain jumped to Dazai Osamu and Sigma. I don't really know why but sure, if my brain says Sigma x Dazai, it can be Sigma x dazai
Also for the record this drives me insane. Like no matter what way you look at it. Either seeing someone capable of chasing so much destruction treat you with gentle care? Perfect.
But also, consider, someone who's never been shown love or care before, they've never been treated gently, any touch was rough and only to cause pain. There's a villain everyone fears for their ruthlessness, for their destructive powere. This villain is seen as a monster. And yet, they're the only person to treat the hurt individual with any kind of care. They can't bring themselves to care how dangerous, how blood thirsty this supposed monster is. They treat them better than any man (meant as human in this case) ever has.
Like, everything about this drives me slightly insane. I think it actually rewrote something in my brain. So yeah this is good. I like this.
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this hit me like a truck
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meanbossart · 1 day ago
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Is du drow bisexual or gay? Bc I know that astarion is like player-sexual but I was just wondering about drow!
Also I love your art!!
Thank you!
He is bi/pan by our definitions, however, I like to think those concepts don't really exist in this universe. With such a wide variety of people and bodies to go by, many that can even change shape on a periodical basis, I think it makes more sense that people's preferences would more widely based on anything but gender.
DU drow, for one, prefers partners who are shorter and less built than himself, plus he gravitates towards androgynous/feminine presentations and associated-behaviors. This would mean that he tends to be more attracted to women rather than men, but that's just because they happen to fit the aforementioned prerequisites more often- and even then, there are cultures where that line is more or less tenuous, and sometimes nonexistent.
I "headcanon" Astarion and Shadowheart as functioning similarly. No set orientation but definite preferences: Shadowheart is really into androgynous looking people that lean slightly more masculine, but she likes cohesive presentations (a sense of style) and upbeat personalities more than she cares about looks. Astarion is probably (and ironically) the least picky, and I think he's a little into the weird looking ones - a dragonborn or a handsome half-orc would probably get a neckturn, and he likes them tall but not as much as he dislikes them short.
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uyuforu · 1 day ago
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❀。 • *₊°。 ❀° 。 • *₊°。 ❀°。 ༻ Astro Observations XI ༺ ❀。 • *₊°。 ❀° 。 • *₊°。 ❀°。
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All pictures were found on Pinterest
Other posts you could like:
જ⁀➴ Union Asteroid in Natal Chart
જ⁀➴ Groom/ Briede/ Juno Aspects in Natal Chart
જ⁀➴ Astro Observations X
❀。 • *₊°。 ❀° 。 • *₊°。 ❀°。❀。 • *₊°。 ❀° 。 • *₊°。 ❀°。❀。 • *₊°。 ❀° 。 • *₊°。 ❀°。❀。 • *₊°。 ❀° 。 • *₊°。 ❀°。❀。 • *₊°。 ❀° 。 • *₊°。
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⊱ ۫ ׅ ✧ Natal Chart
❀ I read somewhere that Aries Rising often ignore people, even the closest people. My sister does that often, and she is also Aries Rising. ❀
❀ Also, the Rising sign and degree can say often how you look, your appearance but don't forget planets and other placements in your 1H! ❀
❀ Moreover, the Ruler of your Rising can also tell a lot about your appearance, meaning the sign and house placements of your Ruler. ❀
❀ I also noticed that whenever the Sun or Venus was transiting my 1H I was changing something on my appearance. It can also just be me adopting a new way to do my hair or my make up, etc. ❀
❀ Having Aries Descendant is a sign you'll have a spouse who will make you realize you are too nice, you are too generous with others, and they will teach you it's okay to tell people to go f*ck themselves. ❀
❀ Men who have Virgo Rising are the finest in my opinion, perhaps because I'm Virgo Venus but girl they are just so neat and take care of themselves so much, it's so refreshing. ❀
❀ Moreover, Virgo Rising men often age like fine wine. Their hot era is never ending. Just take Benjamin Bratt as an example. ❀
❀ If Pluto transiting your Natal Chart will give you clarity over which house it transits, and it will also be a huge transformation in it. I have it in my 4H, and I can tell you I see my family differently and learn a lot of hidden things. It hits like a b*tch. ❀
❀ Can we stop generalizing MC signs ? Cancer MC doesn't mean necessarily the person will do a job related to taking care of others. The sign over your MC is often a way to describe your needs in a career, but the planets in the 10h and the sign it is in matters, AND the ruler of the 10H as well. ❀
❀ Saturn conjunct Juno often means you'll marry your destined person later in life, and you could also meet later in life as well. ❀
❀ Juno conjunct Chiron is a sign your FS is wounded, in depression, or that they will need to heal to be with you. Being with your Future Spouse could also require a lot of sacrifices. ❀
❀ 4H Ruler in 7H people could often depend on their partner emotionally. They can also be the kind of person to want to only settle down with a partner. ❀
❀ Saturn 7H can have the same effect as Venus conjunct Saturn , you could have a delay in your love life, or find yourself having many lessons about it. You could have to live some failed relationships or romantic interactions in your early life, yet perhaps around your Saturn Return, you could have a better and long lasting love life. ❀
❀ Jupiter conjunct Saturn 7H could mean a delay in your marriage, perhaps marrying close to your 30's, but it could also mean after being married, your life will be very good, and you'll gain a lot because of marriage, and perhaps a lot of knowledge and wisdom as well. ❀
❀ I feel like even if you try hard, you'll never really know someone with Sun 8H/12H. They are quite good at showing exactly what they want you to see. ❀
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⊱ ۫ ׅ ✧ Synastry
❀ Rising conjunct Venus often means Venus person will think Rising person is their ideal type. ❀
❀ I often found that when it's not a romantic connection, Sun in 7H Synastry is not a good relationship, yet often a toxic one. Sun person can tend to hate 7H person. ❀
❀ I feel like 2H, 6H & 10H are really underrated houses in Synastry. I think it's really good to have those houses, mostly if big 3 are there. ❀
❀ Sun conjunct Venus often makes the Sun person think Venus person is very attractive. They could also find Venus very charming and their type. ❀
❀ I often saw Juno 1H Synastry when there was love at first sight between two people. Often Juno person having love at first sight for 1H person. ❀
❀ Venus/ Juno/ Jupiter is very beneficial for "finding the house person good looking", and often if you have those planets in someone's 1H or conjunct their Rising, they will be your type. ❀
❀ Every time I had a friend who wanted to befriend me and who was also someone I got along with so much, they have a Stellium in my 11H. ❀
❀ Sun 12H Synastry can possibly make the 12H person forget about you often. ❀
❀ In some relationships, Venus in the 12H can say that 12H person doesn't feel the love Venus person try to give them, and could also feel unloved. ❀
❀ Moon conjunct Saturn can also be that Moon person feel totally misunderstood by Saturn person, or they could feel judged often by Saturn person. ❀
❀ Mars 3H can mean Mars person can often know the right words to hurt 3H person, they can speak to them in a harsh way as well. ❀
❀ Sometimes 12H placements aren't that bad, so take it with a grain of salt. For example, my mother has a Stellium in my 12H, and we are very connected. ❀
❀ Sun conjunct Jupiter often makes the two natives adore each other, they often get along very well, laugh together but also they often share the same opinion. Jupiter person often teach a lot of valuable lessons to Sun person. ❀
❀ Chiron conjunct Moon often means Chiron person will hurt Moon's feelings. I have this aspect with my uncle, he often is harsh with his words. I was scared of him when I was little. ❀
❀ Sun 8H can mean 8H person can feel like Sun person doesn't like them. ❀
❀ Moon 12H in Synastry can often tell us that Moon person will struggle to say to 12H person how they feel, or often share personal things about them. Though, it can also be a sign of deep spiritual connection. ❀
Thank you for reading!
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bettys-redwinesupernova · 2 days ago
Text
WAITING AIN’T EASY
drew starkey x fem!reader
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SUMMARY: after 6 gruelling months of long distance with drew, y/n decides to surprise him on set. listen to ‘waiting ain’t easy’ — Evan Honer!!
based on this ask !! i really hope you enjoy my lovely :) amazing ask as always !! i made a little twist on it though, and added some angsty goodness to make it more emotional <3
WARNINGS: angst to fluff, fighting, crying, mentions of breaking up, long distance relationship, like one (?) curse word, brief mention of cheating rumours (made by the media) and i think that’s it? (lmk if i missed anything !!)
WORD COUNT: 1.8k
THIRD PERSON +
Y/N stared out at the crashing waves outside her beachfront rental in Australia, the sun dipping low in a painted sky of reds and golds. Normally, she would've snapped a picture to send Drew, knowing how much he loved sunsets. But tonight, her phone sat abandoned on the kitchen counter, vibrating occasionally with notifications she couldn't bring herself to check.
It had been nearly six months since she'd left for Australia to film her new movie, a dream opportunity that she'd accepted with boundless enthusiasm. Drew had been so supportive at first, kissing her forehead and promising her they'd figure it out. "Eight months will fly by," he'd said. "We'll make it work." And for a while, they had.
The first few months had been manageable—late-night FaceTime calls, text messages scattered throughout the day, photos exchanged to make each other smile. But as the weeks turned into months, the strain started to show. The time difference, their conflicting schedules, and the exhaustion from their respective work had turned their once-effortless connection into something fragmented and brittle.
And then there were the rumors.
The first article had popped up about a month ago, with pictures of Y/N and her co-star, Paul Mescal, leaving a restaurant. They'd been with a group of castmates, but the tabloids didn't care about context. The angle made it look intimate, as if the two of them had been alone. Headlines screamed: "New Flame on Set?" and "Trouble in Paradise for Drew Starkey and Y/N?"
Drew hadn't believed the rumors—not really. He knew how tabloids worked. But the seed of doubt had been planted. Their conversations became laced with tension. "Why didn't you tell me you were going out?" Drew had asked one night, his voice tight.
"I didn't think I had to give you a play-by-play of my day," she'd snapped, the exhaustion from a grueling shoot making her sharper than she intended.
"I'm not asking for a play-by-play, Y/N. I just want to know what's going on in your life. Is that too much to ask?"
The fight spiraled from there, unresolved, and left a bitter taste that lingered.
Tonight, their most recent argument had pushed them to a breaking point.
She answered the phone after his third call, her voice strained. "Hey."
"Hey," Drew replied, the weight of unspoken words heavy in the silence that followed.
"I'm sorry I didn't call earlier," she began, trying to preempt his frustration. "I got caught up on set, and—"
"Y/N, you always get caught up on set," Drew interrupted, his tone clipped. "I'm starting to feel like I'm not a priority anymore."
Her heart sank. "That's not fair."
"Isn't it? Because it feels like I'm the only one trying here."
"Trying?" she repeated, her voice rising. "Drew, do you know how hard this has been for me too? I miss you every single day, but I can't just drop everything to cater to your insecurities."
"Insecurities?" he echoed, incredulous. "You're calling me insecure because I want to spend more than five minutes talking to my girlfriend? Because I'm tired of feeling like I'm the last thing on your mind?"
"Don't do this," she pleaded, her voice breaking. "Don't twist this into something it's not."
"Then tell me what it is, Y/N," he shot back. "Because right now, it feels like we're falling apart."
Her throat tightened. "Maybe we are," she whispered, the words slipping out before she could stop them.
The silence that followed was deafening.
Drew exhaled shakily on the other end of the line. "Do you really believe that?"
"I don't know what I believe anymore," she admitted, tears streaming down her face. "This... this isn't what I thought it would be. I didn't think it would hurt this much."
"You think I don't hurt too?" His voice cracked, raw with emotion. "You think I don't lie awake every night wishing you were here? That I don't feel like I'm losing my mind wondering if this is worth it anymore?"
Her chest tightened painfully, but she couldn't find the words to soothe him. To soothe herself. The weight of their love—their pain—pressed down on her like a crushing wave.
"I can't do this right now," she said finally, her voice barely above a whisper.
"Yeah," Drew said bitterly, "of course you can't."
And then the line went dead.
Y/N stared at the screen, her hand trembling as the call ended. She wanted to call him back, to take it all back, but the words hung in the air between them, too heavy to ignore.
Halfway across the world in Charleston, Drew sat in his apartment, his phone clutched in his hand. He stared at the empty screen, the echo of their fight replaying in his mind. The silence in the room was deafening, the loneliness suffocating.
They were both alone, yet they'd never felt further apart.
Drew sat on set, legs stretched out as he leaned back in his chair, absentmindedly scrolling through his phone. The day had been slow, and while he loved working on Outer Banks, his mind wasn't fully there. It hadn't been for weeks. The weight of his argument with Y/N lingered, the harsh words and silence that followed gnawing at him.
He sighed, locking his phone and tossing it onto the nearby table. The OBX cast was scattered around the set, some chatting, others grabbing snacks. Madelyn, Madison and Carlacia were huddled together near the craft services table, giggling about something. Their sudden burst of laughter caught Drew's attention.
"What's so funny?" he called out, raising an eyebrow.
"Nothing!" Madison replied quickly, a little too quickly. She nudged Carlacia, who bit her lip to stifle another laugh.
Suspicious, Drew tilted his head but didn't press further. He wasn't in the mood for their antics today. As much as he loved his friends, all he really wanted was Y/N. Six months apart felt like an eternity, and knowing they still had two more months to go made the ache in his chest worse.
What he didn't know was that Y/N was only minutes away.
Y/N stepped off the plane, her heart pounding as she adjusted her bag on her shoulder. She had managed to keep the wrap of her film a secret from Drew, wanting to surprise him in the best way possible. It hadn't been easy; she'd had to bite her tongue during their rare phone calls and carefully avoid social media posts that might tip him off.
Madelyn, Madison and Carlacia had been the first people she told about her plan, and they had been more than happy to help. When she landed, they were waiting for her, practically vibrating with excitement.
"You ready to blow his mind?" Madelyn asked, grinning as she pulled Y/N into a hug.
"I've never been more ready," Y/N said, her nerves and excitement warring within her.
Carlacia held up her phone, ready to document everything. "Okay, we've got this all planned. He's sitting in the main lounge area. You just walk in, and we'll follow behind you."
Y/N nodded, exhaling shakily. "Let's do this."
Back on set, Drew was oblivious. The girls had disappeared somewhere, but he didn't think much of it. They were always running off to do their own thing. He leaned forward, rubbing his hands over his face as exhaustion crept in.
The sound of footsteps approaching barely registered until he heard a familiar voice, soft and hesitant.
"Hey, Starkey."
Drew's head whipped around so fast that his chair tipped backward, clattering to the floor. He stumbled to his feet, his heart racing as his eyes locked on her.
"Y/N?" His voice cracked, disbelief written all over his face.
Before she could say another word, Drew launched himself toward her, nearly tripping over his fallen chair in his haste. He reached her in seconds, his arms wrapping tightly around her as he lifted her off the ground.
"Y/N," he choked out, his voice breaking as he buried his face in her shoulder.
She clung to him just as tightly, her arms wrapped around his neck as tears spilled down her cheeks. "Hi, baby," she whispered, her voice shaking.
Drew pulled back just enough to look at her, his face streaked with tears. "You're here? How are you here? I thought—"
"My shoot wrapped early," she interrupted, laughing through her tears. "I wanted to surprise you."
Drew didn't hesitate. He leaned in, capturing her lips in a kiss so full of love and longing that it made Y/N's knees weak. Around them, the cast erupted in exaggerated groans and laughter.
"Get a room!" Rudy teased, shielding his eyes dramatically.
"Y'all are gonna make me cry," Carlacia joked, still filming the entire moment.
When Drew finally pulled away, his forehead rested against Y/N's, his tears falling freely now. "God, I missed you," he whispered, his voice thick with emotion. "I missed you so fucking much."
"I missed you too," Y/N said, her hands cupping his face as she brushed away his tears. "I'm so sorry, Drew. For everything. For the fight, for the silence. I hated it. I hated being apart from you."
"Me too," Drew admitted, his voice cracking again. "I was so scared, Y/N. Scared I was losing you."
"Never," she said firmly. "I was scared too, but I never stopped loving you. Not for a second."
Drew let out a shaky laugh, his arms tightening around her as if he were afraid she might disappear. "Waiting ain't easy," he said softly, his eyes searching hers, "but it's worth it for you. Always."
Y/N felt fresh tears well up as she kissed him again, pouring every ounce of love and reassurance she had into it. When they finally broke apart, the cast was clapping and cheering, much to Drew's embarrassment.
"Alright, alright, show's over," Drew said, his cheeks flushed as he waved them off. But he couldn't stop smiling, and his hand never left Y/N's.
Carlacia walked up, showing them the video she had taken. "You two are gonna want this later. It's a tearjerker."
Drew chuckled, pulling Y/N closer. "Thanks, Laci."
As the cast gave them some space, Drew turned to Y/N, his eyes still glistening. "You're really here," he said again, as if he couldn't quite believe it.
"I'm here," she confirmed, her smile soft. "And I'm not going anywhere."
Drew's expression softened, his love for her radiating in his gaze. "Good. Because I don't ever want to do this without you again."
They spent the rest of the day glued to each other, catching up, apologising, and soaking in every second of finally being together again.
For the first time in six months, everything felt right.
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(divider by @kodaswrld !!)
betty’s notes ౨ৎ ⋆。˚
this was such an adorable one to write :’) i love writing hurt/comfort, it’s just my absolute fave genre of ff !! i really hope you enjoy this @xoxosblogsblog <3
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