#im open to title suggestions

[timblrdrake]

DONT LET BRUCIE SCARE YOU!!! RELEASE THE NAMES, GOTHAMITES DESERVE TO KNOW

ITS COMING I SWEAR MY TELL ALL NOVEL IS IN THE WORKS

if B is reading this i’m kidding dont worry LOL :)

[kingsandbastardz]

more of the wips list

@cheetahing

shark-dick - a tale of narratives and severe misunderstandings

Ok this one will likely eventually be some flavor of dihua.

But it's basically continuing on the theme of narratives != reality, where I ask, "What if Jinyuan Alliance, and Di Feisheng in particular?"

Which, we know DFS isn't nearly as evil as the name Demon would suggest. But what else?

It starts with the idea of Jinyuan Alliance being the hive of scum and villiany and sexual deviance. Where it's the place where perverts go to roam free and wave their freak flag in a way polite society doesn't allow. Like, their poor prisoners! You'd be better off dead! Etc.

"So... you haven't? At all? Even when you're this old?" Fang Duobing asks with far more confusion than was warranted. Di Feisheng's eyes are closed as he cycles his energy through his meridians, his eyelashes arcing softly across his cheeks and his hair lifting and fluttering about as if buffeted from an invisible, spiraling wind. He doesn't respond beyond a faint but clearly disdainful snort. Offended, Fang Duobing points at him and demands, "So if shaoye grabs your- your jade rod, you're telling me you can just make the feeling go away?" A sharp brow twitching faintly, Di Feisheng immediately replies, "Yes." "I refuse to believe you." Really, Xiaobao? In Li Lianhua's opinion, if there was anyone who would take a largely ignored path to harness his youth's yang energy and efficiently turn himself into a high density cauldron of power, it would be Di Feisheng. The concept of taking sexual energy and transmuting it into something else was not a new one (there were entire schools of thought and exotic styles based around it), but this was an area largely ignored by earthly men and women for a reason -- only Di Feisheng could accidentally master systemic chastity out of annoyance that his adolescence was disrupting his focus. Li Lianhua carefully pours himself a cup a tea with perfectly steady hands and a blank mind. He can feel as Di Feisheng winds down his daily meditation - his energy slows and pulls inward and back, like the ocean's waves tugging lightly at bare toes as it withdraws at low tide. Li Lianhua should be impressed. He really should be. It was a great skill mastered at a very, very young age - a skill mastered without a teacher and without any understanding of what it could mean for Di Feisheng's future self. But instead, unexpectedly perverse words like "virgin" and "untouched" echo resonantly in the cavernous space between Li Lianhua's ears. Meanwhile, Di Feisheng has unexpectedly embarked on a wordy tale of something he personally witnessed. "I know a man who was prideful in his high energy and the size of his manhood. One day, we traveled together for a short time and was on a ship heading to [____] when he started arguing with a deckhand. The sailor insisted his reputation was too overblown. In a rage, my aquantance ripped open his pants and whipped out his cock --", Di Feisheng pauses and looks down at his arm, thoughtfully tracing a finger in the vicinity of his elbow, or maybe his armpit. Di Feisheng blandly continues, "--his cock comes out and he slaps it over the side of the ship's railing." (And the word cock coming out of his mouth makes both Fang Duobing and Li Lianhua twitch for different reasons.) Di Feisheng pauses again and looks sideways at nothing as he reaches his limit for words and struggles for more, "--Heaven was watching and was unhappy with him? There was a shark." "A-a shark?" "Big fish. Lots of teeth. It jumped out the water in a big arc the moment the meat came out and--- when it went back into the water, it took this aquaintence's cock with it." Fan Duobing's mouth had fallen open and remained open for the entirety of this telling. He shuts it with a snap. "It was a freak accident. But truly," Di Feisheng's brows arch questioningly. When there is no response, he says slyly, with great logic, "Why would I want anything to do with that?" Why indeed? Fang Duobing sits down. Li Lianhua has no response either, but not because he is struggling to decide whether this tale has any truth. It's because he realizes, with a sudden flood of fondness that he hides behind his tea, Lao Di may be inexperienced but he isn't innocent.

basically dfs is gonna fuck with fdb's brain about his 'innocence' for the foreseeable future. fdb is a 3-star intelligence against dfs' 5 stars. someone help him.

anyway.

[formula-fun]

Pacific rim au snippet?? for us to live a little happier in coming days ksjadjshs? 👀

i am pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead

The day Sebastian Vettel descends on the Faenza Academy, four things happen.

First, a series of rumors fly across the entirety of base. Charles is ninety percent sure they’re George’s doing, but the way they telephone between the cadets is truly a modern marvel. In the morning the word is that Vettel is visiting to scope out the cadets to select his new copilot, never mind that none of them have ever even drifted in their lives. By noon the story has been transformed into a harrowing tale involving Vettel, a recent Kaiju attack in Cabo, and a torrid affair with Director Binotto’s wife.

“Did you hear about Binotto’s wife?” George asks during lunch, eyes wide.

“That was your rumor, idiot,” Alex tells him. “Obviously it’s not true. Binotto doesn’t even have a wife.”

By that afternoon, it’s rumored that Binotto lost his wife in a Kaiju attack in Cabo, where she bravely fought in a top-secret test jaeger as Vettel’s copilot.

The second thing that happens is training is suspended for a full day. Truthfully, Charles thinks this should be the real source of rumors, but they’re all so burned out none of the cadets want to question having a day off. It doesn’t mean they actually take the day off—they’re too bored for that, and they’ve forgotten how to do anything else than train relentlessly and occasionally study the odd K-Science journal.

Still, the Director, his assistants, half the training staff and Vettel all spend the morning locked in a conference room doing god knows what.

“They ordered pizza about an hour ago,” Alex tells him. He’s been pretending to read Jaeger Daily for two hours, sprawled out on a towel stolen from the bathroom while he pretends not to watch the Operations building from behind his sunglasses. “I heard you can predict a war based on how often the militaries order pizza. It means they’re planning something.”

“This is Italy,” Pierre says, unbothered, stripped shirtless and sprawled out in the sun a few paces away. “They order pizza literally every day.”

Alex hums. “And they got affogatos.”

“Affogatos?! Mon Dieu. Call the press.”

It probably means nothing, but it’s certainly strange—the conference, not the pizza. Vettel is a well-known face not just in the Jaeger program, but in the world. He was confirmed into the program just a handful of months earlier after having matched with some kid in Australia, and once their Jaeger goes into service he’ll be the first European ranger ever. It’s not a great statistic, seeing as there have only been six rangers in active combat in the history of the planet, but it’s still something.

The Faenza school is small, and often forgotten; most of the European academies are the same way. That’s why it’s even stranger that Vettel is here, of all places.

The third thing that happens that day is Charles kicks Max’s ass in the Kwoon. It’s not related to Vettel in any way, but it’s still funny.

Charles’ first impression of Max when they met eight months ago was that he’s too serious. His eyes are shaped like half-moons, clearly designed for laughing, but he frowns all the time. His lower lip juts out a little, petulant. Charles’ dad used to scold Charles for pouting like that when he was little, warning him his face would get stuck like that, and if Charles was too old for it at seven then Max is much too old for it at sixteen. It’s possible that his face is stuck like that, in fact, since the months that Charles has known him he hasn’t relaxed once. 

He doesn’t relax while training. He doesn’t relax in the rec room. He doesn’t relax while eating—if anything he’s the least relaxed doing that, shoveling food into his mouth like he’s about to be called to attention at any second. His frown lingers as they run laps of the dusty base in Faenza, the sun beating down hot and unrelenting, and while he’s training on the sim: thirteen drops and eleven kills, a record that’s second best only to Charles’ own.

“Beginner’s luck, huh?” Max had said when Charles had stepped out of the sim for the first time, exactly one kill to his name. He doesn’t say that the second time, or the third, or the fourth.

Like Charles said. No sense of humor.

Max is good at Muay Thai, which pisses Charles off to no end. It’s not that Charles is bad at it, he’s just been a little shorter than Max and a lot more wiry for the entire time they’ve known each other. Max is gangly too, but his legs are stronger, a fact that Charles has learned on more than one occasion by catching a knee straight to the solar plexus—a blow which Max barely has to strain to deliver. They’ve sparred—fought, really—enough times now for Charles to know that no matter how quick he can be, Max still has a serious physical advantage.

“Teach me Judo,” he told his trainer the fifth time Max pressed him out of the ring during a training session—a fight—with a heavy offense and pointy elbows, the director’s assistant watching from the corner and taking notes on a clipboard.

“We don’t usually teach that,” Andrea told him. “You’ll never beat a kaiju by throwing it.”

“I want to beat him.” At Andrea’s hesitation he added, “I’ll train extra. I don’t care.”

So Andrea started teaching him Judo; and on the day that Vettel arrives at the academy Charles steps into the ring with Max, letting him get two swings in before grabbing his wrist, using his momentum against him and flipping him square over his shoulder.

Max hits the mat hard enough that the sound echoes through the empty kwoon.

“Judo isn’t on the training list,” Max gripes, pushing himself up and rolling over to clutch at his nose. “Fuck.”

“I’m just adapting to the style of my opponent,” Charles says flatly. “As any good ranger would do.”

“I hate you,” Max tells him, dabbing at his nose—entirely for dramatic effect, since there isn’t a drop of blood in sight and Charles is pretty sure he didn’t even hit him there—and then spins on the mat to kick Charles’ feet out from under him.

Charles goes toppling, landing with a grunt, which is the moment Max decides to try to wrestle him. A horrible decision, really. Max is shit at wrestling. It takes all of thirty seconds for Charles to pin him, catching his left arm in an ude-garami, which is the exact moment that the door swings open.

“Ah,” Director Binotto says. “Leclerc and Verstappen, some of the brightest in our youth program.”

“Let me up,” Max hisses through his teeth, his breath hot against his ear, but Charles just tightens his grip.

“You haven’t tapped out,” Charles replies, holding Max down with his own chest as he twists Max’s elbow. Max lets out a string of noises that sound very Dutch and very rude.

“They do look it,” someone says blandly, and when he looks up Charles is greeted by the sight of Sebastian Vettel standing over him.

He springs to his feet, snapping to attention. Max follows suit, albeit a little slower.

“Relax,” Vettel says. “We don’t stand on rank in the kwoon. I thought that was the first rule of training,” he adds, raising his voice a little.

Binotto shrugs. “We do things differently here.”

Vettel’s eyebrows flash up, then back down again. He ignores the director, giving them both an easy smile, and Charles and Max’s hands fall away at the same time. “I’ve never visited any of the youth programs, but I’ve heard great things,” he says. “How long have you been training?”

“Eight months, sir,” Charles says.

“Please, it’s Sebastian. You’ve been here since the opening of the academy, then,” Sebastian says, his mouth forming into a C shape. “And you’ve been training to be copilots?”

Charles looks at Max, who’s already looking back. His mouth is pouty again, his eyebrows furrowed. Too serious.

“Our cadets did not begin the matching process until last week,” Binotto says, stepping forward to take his place at Sebastian’s side. “We have been training them as a group in the hopes that compatibility would be demonstrated organically, and for the most part that has proved to be successful.”

“How so?”

Binotto lets out a little hum. “Some pairs we brought in together proved to be compatible—siblings, best friends. Other times this proved to be the opposite. And then of course, some compatible pairs just find each other. We had our suspicions, but neural aptitude tests only confirmed it.”

Charles frowns, a protest poised behind his teeth.

“And you two train on the sim together?” Sebastian asks them, his face open.

“No,” Max says. “We only train solo.”

“What are your scores?”

“Thirteen drops, eleven kills.”

“Thirteen, twelve,” Charles adds, and can’t bite down the smug smile when Max shoots a glare his way.

Sebastian raises his eyebrows, blowing out a breath. He looks to Binotto, who raises his eyebrows with a small smile.

“That’s impressive,” Sebastian says. “You both want to be rangers one day?”

“Yes, sir,” they say, and it unfortunately comes out in perfect unison.

Sebastian looks at them for a long beat, a serene smile on his face. “I’m not here at an official capacity. I’m just here to scope out the copilot matches in our youth program. You probably already had some idea that you’re drift compatible,” he says, which Charles was not aware of at all, and then while he’s still reeling from that piece of information, “but the tests last week identified you at somewhere between ninety nine point seven and ninety nine point nine percent.”

“That’s not right,” Max blurts out. “We’re not compatible.”

Sebastian’s eyebrows raise. “Neural tests prove otherwise. So do fighting styles and sim scores, from the looks of it.”

“But we don’t get along.”

“That doesn’t always mean something.” He tilts his head. “If this comes as a surprise, it might be helpful to know that compatibility is about balance as much as it’s about similarities. You might see differences in each other, but in a Jaeger those things will become complementary parts.”

Charles can’t hold back a tiny scoff. What’s supposed to be complementary about Max? His bullheadedness? His ability to eat food faster than the mess hall can produce it?

“Gentlemen,” Binotto says, which is another first—Binotto has never called them that in their lives. “The Jaeger Program needs cadets. Not just rangers, but mechanics, strategists, engineers, support coordinators, biologists, neuroscientists—we need personnel, and now that the academy is on its feet and more jaegers are going into service, it’s time to identify who is part of a viable drift pairing, and who would be better suited to a different division.”

At his side, Max sucks in a short breath, barely audible. Charles himself straightens. He knows a threat when he hears one.

“We’d like to start a project to test drift compatibility through a rudimentary neural handshake,” Binotto says, “and we’re going to be testing that project on you.”

And that’s how the fourth thing happens.

[wizardofarles]

[Untitled] —by me

[understandableparadox]

Bottom of the barrel isekai review

did i say I was going to read something horrible for you? turns out it was horrible for me.

behold a fucking pre-amble. I think the idea of loving and being loved is a concept ambiguous enough for it to be idolized by almost anyone because the ways to love are so varied and different. unconditional, unrequited, toxic, wholesome, forbidden, destined, love has more modifiers then fucking charizard and oops we gotta update that sentence because someone on book tik tok has invented a new type of love known as Squimy love. what does this mean for your children? more at 11.

regardless we yearn for a type of romance or if you are aromantic a form of intimacy in the form of the platonic. in some cases we can form such ties with people we don't see, people that Do not know that you exist.

in worse cases, sometimes the people who don't know we exist want to foster that relationship further for their own benefit. Parasocial love.

im sure you heard it from whatever drama youtuber you have decided to use to funnel useless bits of rage bait into your ears but its a tale as old as creepy guys. streamer is a little to eager to play into the fantasy of the viewers, that they love them, that they thing You, that's right, You dear viewer are special...Then they use that to groom or take advantage of a kid and they don't go to jail and someone writes a long expose piece on them and you want them to get hit by a truck but god rarely allows such lovely Closure...

anyways that defeintly has nothing to do with the work we are unraveling today, right? right???

oh.

oh no....

god, just kill me... ok the premise is simple, the internet has been made by a reincarnated rando who has decided that anything in regards to adventuring and fighting is just not in the cards for him so he has decided to just be a streamer. The only streamer in the world...Well more of a podcaster, given his streams are soley voice. but lets not label spikes being driven into my head.

but hey, thats a intresting concept, the idea that someone has created the true information highway across a world that is fucking Eras to early for it, theres a lot of things that one can explo-

kill me kill me kill me kill me kill me kill me kill me, please, im begging, im pleading, im a fucking deer on the side on the road stareing at you with blank uncomprehending eyes, my comprehension of Big Block Of Metal screaming down the road is null, dont let up on the gas and turn me into a grease smear so I may obtain something resembling an iota of peace of mind

NOT EVERY FUCKING CHARECTER NEEDS TO BE THE STRONGEST, THEY DONT NEED TO HAVE THE MILLION MANA MULTIPLIER, ITS OK TO BE SOMEWHAT WEAK, DID LUFFY POP OUT OF THE BARREL SCREAMING GUM GUM GIGA COCK AND ONE SHOTTING EVERY POOR PRIVATEER AND BUCANNEER THAT SO DARED TO GIVE HIM ANYTHING OTHER THEM WARM PRAISE AND DELIGHTIED WELCOME?! NO, BECAUSE WE ARE ALLOWED TO ENJOY THE FACT THERE ARE STAKES, THAT NOT EVERY SITUATION IS ONE IN WHICH WE ARE IN SOLE COMMAND OF! THAT GIVES IT SPICE.

anyways they wont talk about this for ten additional chapters and then again for the arc finally so i'm going to ignore it and move on.

they also go to a school that accommodates commoners and nobals, but its also the first school that actully does this, which is really intresting as its a mixing of classes and allowing "commoner" students acess to higher education and training for magic for a war with the demon king, meaning is this truly for public betterment or is this a method of ensureing nobel students arent drafted into war due to magic potential by haveing a healthy supply of seemingly more expenda- oh? your bored? you want me to jinkle something in your face? oh i messed up that sentance? You Meant to say jiggle? ok cool

reaching the end of the comic we come to its inevitable Gimmick because one cannot be Fucked to try to make just one gimmick work. thats right, the streamer has developed a collection of accidental parasocial relationships with various well endowed women across the nation, each in astoundingly have posistions of power or in some way highly skilled.

Each woman dispite not knowing who the streamer is, never seeing his face are thusly so infatuated by the mere sound of his voice and the kind words he mutters that they have their brain matter utterly rewired, becomeing true devouts for their favorite streamer...

Rinse and repeat for 20 plus chapters and you get Shitty Ecchi Slop delivered out to be consumed en masse because men cannot hope to penetrate the core of male lonliness without true introspection which in turn is stymied by a hunered or so other dude bros who loathe the word and offer a far easier view in which to dye the world. thus they seak idea of being coveted by someone in mangas in increaseingly more convluted power fantasies...

IS WHAT I WANT TO END THIS ON BUT IT GETS WERIDER, DISPITE BEING SLOB THE AUTHOR IS BASED ON TWO AREAS IN PARTICULER,

HOLY SHITBALLS BATMAN, IS THAT AN ISEKAI CHARECTER THAT ISNT IMMEDITLY BUM RUSHING THE FUCKING SLAVE MAKRKET OR GIVING IT A TUT TUT?! IS THAT A HUMAN BEING WITH ACTUAL FUCKING EMPATHY?!

OH MY FUCKING GOD IN HEAVEN I DIDNT KNOW THOSE EXISTED, NOW AINT THAT THE SHINIEST FUCKING PENNY IN THE BUNCH, BUT OH PLEASE DO SAVE ROOM FOR DESERT BECAUSE IN THE SAME FUCKING CHAPTER

THEY BRING THE ABOLTION OF SLAVERY, LADIES AND GENTLEMEN PARASOCIAL RELATIONSHIPS WORK FASTER THEN ABRAHAM LINCON AND HIS INDESCIVE BEARED ASS.

IMAGINE MY FUCKING SHOCK AND AWE, HEARING THE TERM SLAVE AND BEING AWASHED WITH THE TRUAMA OF WATCHING SO MANY BLACK HAIRED SAD EYED ANIME PRETTY BOYS EITHER DECIDEING TO BUY A SLAVE WHO ALSO JUST HAPPENS TO BE THE FUCKING POSTER CHILD FOR STOCKHOLM SYNDROM OR JUST SAYING "THAT SUCKS" AND LEAVEING IT BE, READY FOR THE INEVITABLE KNIFE IN THE HEART AND THEN BOOM, STREAMER SAYS SLAVERY IS BAD AND THEY GET RID OF IT, MAYBE I DO BELIVE IN THE POWER OF THE STREAMER.

DID YOU FILL UP ON SWEET SWEET ANTI FANTASY SLAVERY COOKIES?1 YOU GOD DAMN IDIOT, YOU SHOULD HAVE SAVED ROOM FOR "GUY WITH NORMAL OPINIONS ABOUT SEX WORK"

I AM A CONVERT, I AM A DEVOUT, HAND TO THE HEAVENS I SHALL ESPOUSE THE VIRTUES AND DIVINITY OF THE STREAMER, WITH A WAVE OF THEIR VIRTUAL HAND SOCIETAL PROPLEM LOSE FLIGHT AND FALL TO THE EMBRACE OF THE COLD GRAVE, I JUST NEED A CHAPTER WHERE STREAMER SAYS TRANS RIGHTS AND I PROMISE I WILL NEVER EVER TALK SHIT ABOUT THIS SERIES AGAIN, PLEASE MR. STREAMER, JUST SAY TRANS RIGHTS ONE TIME, JUST ONE SINGULER TIME AND I CAN ASCEND THE RUNGS OF PEACE AND JOY.

turning down the notches this manga is funny in the fact that it pulls me back and fourth with wild abandon between utter and complete slop and genuinly funny bits and abnormally normal opinions for the genra.

"Is the underlying story, barring any other concept, good?" 

there really isnt a story, its just streamer talking and women going batshit insane.

"on a sliding scale of min to max, how much is the author using this to explore fetish" 

medium. the story has an obsession with the idea of yandere but it rarely goes into the idea of a stalker. the women are respectfull of his boundries barring one but that one is called the odd one out. aside from that, alot of scenes are just an ecuse to draw anime tits.

"How many story crutches does the author use to explore the story" 

it dosent need crutches because it has little to no intrest in telling a coherent story, it talks about what it wants and drops the rest.

 "Is the author attempting to use the story as a way to explain why he is not weird."

streamers can solve all of socitial ills as long as the women who they create parasocial relationships in are in posistions of high political power. .

[whyisaravenlike-awritingdesk]

It's a bit of a long one this week for WIP Wednesday, and I was going to share something from chapter 19 of Begged & Borrowed Time, but I changed my mind. So instead here's the opening of the raven attack fix it fic I mentioned last week 👀

It was the stuff of nightmares— the kind that had Cassian stalling, the breath torn from his throat. He’d heard the bell ringing, had rushed to the library beneath the House of Wind, and even though he’d unsheathed his sword and slipped into that quiet, calm place ready for battle and bloodshed… he hadn’t been prepared for her. For Nesta to be stumbling from the darkness, fear carved into the planes of her face as she reached for him, her hands outstretched in a mockery of the way he’d always dreamed she’d one day reach for him. Terror widened those silver-blue eyes, and Cassian felt it mirrored in his own veins, her fear ratcheting through his own chest as he looked her over, searching desperately for injury as his hand curled around the hilt of his sword. He’d never dropped a weapon in his life, but— Nesta stumbled, almost crumbling, and he had to keep his grip tight on that sword in his haste to get to her, to catch her before she fell. It took everything he had, and still— it slipped from his hand, clattering to the floor as Nesta lurched towards him, as she collided with his chest and curled her fingers in his leathers.

[late-tothe-party-07]

*crawls in, war beaten and exhausted *

Chapter 2 is done.....

time to get chapter 3 written....

*collapses into dust *

[ravioverse]

For the prompts, maybe two of the ravio's having to work together even if they don't like it?

Like whether personalities clash or early adventure when they don't trust each other yet?

I saw this and saw the opportunity for both 'personalities clash in early adventure' and to write an episode that I've mentioned before but didn't really elaborate on, so I took that opportunity. Thank you so much for the prompt!

Here's a showcase of Viola and Compass having conflict while under pressure because a certain instrument disappeared c:

-----

"HOW? We were only gone for five minutes, how can it be MISSING?"

Viola's hair was rapidly turning into a knotted mess the more he ran his hands through it, pacing a hole into the ground as he fruitlessly searched for an answer. It didn't make sense. They'd intentionally gone further away from civilization because they were unsure how the enhanced magic of this era would affect the Viola of Space, but that was hardly a problem now.

The new, much larger problem was that it had VANISHED.

"Well, what did you think would happen?" That condescending tone coming from a teenager made Viola want to scream. "You took it out, then ran off to go deal with some monster, leaving it fully unattended. That's asking for something to get stolen."

Viola let out a deep, shuddering breath that sounded more like a growl as he glared at Compass. "And who was the one getting into trouble, hm? I think I remember someone wandering straight into octorok territory and screaming for help-"

"I did not 'scream for help!'" came the indignant retort. "Shouting in surprise is not the same thing as screaming for help! Besides, how hard is it to put the SACRED FUCKING ARTIFACT away before running after someone?"

Goddesses above, Viola wanted to throttle this kid.

Still, the already-present flush of embarrassed rage only intensified because he was right. The viola should have been properly put away before he ran to help Compass deal with those monsters, but how was he supposed to know that Compass wasn't inching closer to death with every second he delayed? How was he supposed to know that he'd simply gotten pelted in the side by an overgrown squid? It hadn't been anything near important enough to warrant the rush he'd granted it, but how was he supposed to know?

Viola ran his hands through his hair once again, with another frustrated sigh accompanying the action. "Well, we still need to find it!" He said sharply, finally turning his frantic gaze at his four companions. "We're stuck here until we do!"

"Uh… with what leads?" Their newest recruit had to point out the obvious, didn't he? Warp even helpfully elaborated, "There aren't any tracks around where it was."

"I DON'T KNOW!" Viola snapped, but the immediate flinch at his volume sent a new pang of guilt through his chest. "There has to be something," he muttered, looking away.

"No reason to yell at somebody else for your fuck-up though," Compass said, sounding more irritated than before. "You don't get to take out your shit on us just because-"

Distant notes carried through the air.

"Shut up."

"What was that?"

"I said shut the fuck up!" Viola snapped again, turning to locate where the noise was coming from. "Listen. Do you hear that?"

The sound of strings became more clear as the arguing paused. Distant, but close enough to be heard. And whoever was playing it clearly didn't have much experience, but Viola could already tell what melody they were trying to replicate.

Viola all but pushed Compass and Empyrean out of his way as he bolted in the direction of the music, swearing violently all the while. He couldn't wait for the others. The Viola of Space didn't care about skill as long as the correct notes were played in the correct order, and whoever was trying to play it now had obviously heard the Song of Space and was dangerously close to getting it right.

By the time he was close enough that the player had to be just beyond a few more trees, he heard the Song of Space plucked from the sacred instrument.

In an instant, an opaque dome of muted colors appeared before Viola. He stumbled to a halt just before he could run directly into it, his veins filling with ice at the sight. The radius seemed much larger than it ever had before, reaching at least ten feet into the air, and Viola could only guess it was the same all around. And as quickly as it appeared, it vanished, with a sudden gust of wind that pulled every surrounding tree, stone, and person toward the newly-vacant space.

Viola felt like his very breath had been sucked out of him. The force of the gale on his back on top of the knowledge that the Viola of Space was gone made breathing feel damn near impossible.

It didn't take long for the others to catch up with him, announced by an impressed "Lorelle's grace," from Empyrean at the sight of the crater. It likely wasn't more than a few seconds, but soul-crushing despair had a way of stretching time.

"What happened?" Warp asked, awe and horror mixing in his voice.

"What does it look like?" Viola asked, as the need to explain the obvious scratched at his nerves. "Whoever took the viola just escaped! With a chunk of Lorule."

"It can do that?"

"HERE, APPARENTLY."

"Goddesses… Okay…" Warp murmured, clearly hesitating before he attracted more of Viola's frustration. "So… what now?"

"Until one of us figures out a different way to travel between worlds, we're stuck here!" Viola announced, finally getting to his feet again. His voice dripped with sarcasm as he asked, "Anyone have any surprise artifacts waiting to be revealed? Anything with space magic? I'm all ears."

"Any space magic?" Compass asked, reaching for his own gold-tipped staff. "Because this might work."

"You're fucking joking."

"I'm actually not, thanks for the vote of confidence," he said, ignoring Viola's tone. "This is the Advent Rod. It usually can't create gates to anywhere other than its normal destinations, but clearly magic is off the charts here. So it might work."

There was a moment of stunned silence before Origin - Origin - chimed in, stating, "It's worth trying." When all eyes went to him, he simply muttered, "It's not as if we have any other options."

"He's right," Empyrean agreed. "It's either try this or be stuck in this time while someone or something runs wild with the Viola of Space. I think it's our best shot."

"Fine," Viola spat, loathing the satisfaction that Compass clearly got from the word. "Just do whatever you need to."

The magic of the Advent Rod was far less graceful than the Viola of Space. While the sphere of space magic had appeared in an instant and left a vacuum in its wake, Compass' portal opened much more slowly, accompanied by horrible, booming CRACKS as the Advent Rod's magic tore a hole in the fabric of reality. Air began to rush toward it, as if the dark colors of the portal were hiding just as much of a void as the sphere had.

Viola barely heard Empyrean shouting for them to "GO!" before they all stopped fighting the wind and surrendered to the portal's event horizon.

His final thought before entering it was, "Compass better be able to close this."

[obeetlebeetle]

one hour ago: "havent touched cyrano today and i think that's what's needed"

after 20 min on desk w no patrons:

[pxrxmoore]

out of the depths of fuckin nowhere while running a fever last night my torchwood obsession was re-awakened within me. and also apparently livejournal still exists and people still post there???????

[drustvar]

Changes / Additions to Muriel's route 11/22

These are more notes for myself more than anything but I thought I might as well share. This is also besides the obvious stuff like he knows what a market is and of COURSE has been in the shop before. (seriously wtf???) Putting under a cut bc there's A LOT. like. A LOT !

Rosie picks up on Muriel's dislike of crowds / general fear of red street and suggests they duck into a garden to wait out the crowds. Unfortunately up until this point she'd been stopping to chat like every 5 minutes which he understandably got frustrated with. This is also when she asks about the chains he wears, and its mentioned that he and Asra have tried everything to break them. (Hinting that they're in someway connected to the Devil / whatever Lucio's been dealing with.) She doesn't ask about them again. ||

Muriel in general in the early chapters is way more prickly / mean because 1, I think that's hot and 2, he doesn't want to fucking be there. ||

His magic and rune casting becomes way more of a plot point, especially in how they navigate through the Steppes / Keep up w Morga. Lots of classic fantasy druidism TM vibes. ||

Khamgalai does die, but she's not getting killed of literally within the same day. Muriel + Rosie get to spend like at least a week with her , meaning 1. more info / worldbuilding about his culture and 2. When she does die it actually has some impact instead of just being shock value. ||

Speaking of Khamgalai, I'm also moving the first kiss between Rosie/Muriel to when they're staying with her. Personally do not like in the canon story how it happens while he's literally having a panic attack. He deserves to have that when he feels safe and content. Thinking something along the lines of just a quiet moment shared on the porch at sunrise. ||

Instead of being given a bow Rosie is given a pair of knives (given how Morga has already seen that she has some familiarity with them) with the runes carved in them she can make them sort of boomerang in and out of her hand. ||

Morga's crimes / lack of action are also addressed and taken far more seriously. Muriel had every right to be mad and he should have been allowed to be. ||

Might add in a chapter or two where they stop at the inn again as sort of a thematic "back to where we started from" type thing except they're worn out and scarred from the journey. Things start to get a little hot and heavy between them but Muriel puts a stop to it bc so far only bad things happen to the people he cares about / they get taken away from him, and he doesn’t want that to happen to Rosie. ||

Muriel is initially very wary of the townsfolk sheltering in the forest, especially the wealthy. Not too long ago these were the same people who were watching him fight for his life for their entertainment. Rosie backs him up on this. (it helps that she doesn't like the nobility to start with either lmfao) ||

I might have them meet his parents when they're in the spirit world??? It truly felt like that's what it was leading up to but idk. The Hermit himself is also more serious and not played off as a gag. ||

Muriel suggests that instead of a siege, they invade the palace via the way-stones and passageways . Right before they can begin phase one, they’re invited to speak to Lucio at the Lazaret. He proposes a series of games / feats of strength, for “old times sake”. They initially refuse, but Lucio implores them to reconsider, implying that he’s somehow gotten wind of their plans of invasion. After some discussion they begrudgingly agree, but on one condition. Only they get to choose the games, he has no say in them and is only a contestant. ||

Football to save the world is funny but also incredibly jarring giving the tone of the previous chapters. After the evening banquet Lucio enters the arena and states something along the lines that he’s let them have their fun, but they simply haven’t played fair. Using devil magic:™: he warps the landscape and the Coliseum begins to close in like a giant bear trap. One more big fight before everything is said and done.

[words-from-school]

"No live sex at Open Mic night"

[naamah-beherit]

I'm begging y'all, put at least minimum care into how you present your fics to the public.

"idk man you name it im tired" as a title tells me you didn't care.

"This is STUPID" in the tags. Okay, I won't read it then.

"I don't know how to do tags" tells me you didn't bother taking one look at any page in the archive to see how others tag and use it as reference. Or, you know, you could have asked, too.

"idk if this is trash, bc I worte this in the middle of the night bc idrk" in the summary doesn't really encourage me to open the story.

3 lines of tags on a 4k monitor, none of which are actual searchable tags but a stream of consciousness about the author's sleeping habits and music preferences, tell me you don't know what your story is about if you can't give us 2-4 main tropes and themes. Also, this isn't tumblr, come on mate.

"I hate myself for this fic" okay? Why did you write it then if it brought you discomfort? Moreover, why did you post it???

"Why Did I Write This?" well, hobbies are about joy and fun, if writing doesn't make you happy then maybe it's time to look for something else to do in your free time? No point in making yourself miserable.

"The Author Regrets Everything" paired with more self-deprecating tags suggest I better not bother opening the fic because it clearly made the author miserable and why would I be miserable as well?

"killing myself rn" please get help.

0 additional tags is better than that. Writing and sharing fics should be an act of care, not anguish.

[gyuuberryy]

love potions (but make it legal)!

pairing: tutor!jungwon x reader

summary: you had not been too excited about these tutoring sessions your potions professor had dropped on you. but, after meeting your tutor you couldn’t hope but think you both were brewing more than just potions, perhaps even love?

genre: hogwarts au, jungwon is a loser for the reader, initially slightly one sided pining, fluff, angst

warnings: some hogwarts lore references, mentions of failing a class, jealousy, angst, magic stuff, kissing, suggestive(ish)

note: they don’t actually make love potions in this but i liked the sound of it so i used it in the title hehe. i hope you guys enjoy this fic as you had given so much love to the heeseung one.

word count: 4.3kish

if you liked it please reblog or comment to give me your feedback! <3

to the anon who requested a jungwon hogwarts au im sososoo sorry for publishing this like six months later. i had a terrible writer’s block with this one. i’m terribly sorry, this constantly ran through my mind but i couldn’t bring myself to begin. i hope you like this!

you were so screwed.

you felt like a deflated balloon looking at your mock NEWT results. you were literally failing your potions class. with all the time spent in balancing out your classes, quidditch and sessions at the room of requirement as a part of dumbledore’s army, you had not practised well enough for your classes that were practical based. 

seeing your grades drop from exemplary results to having mediocre grades and failing a class was depressing. so, your potions teacher had made you stay back to have a word with you which is why you stood off to the side. your head hung low in disappointment with yourself. if this continued, it would be hard to apply for an auror’s job, which was your dream. 

you were broken out of your thoughts by the sound of your professor clearing his throat. your head shot up and you looked around to see the room was now empty save for you both. he gestured to the seat next to his table, so you shuffled over.

he looked over the rim of his glasses as he scanned over your report card. you hated the pitiful look that crossed over his face, you were not used to this.

“you are one of my best students, i really wasn’t expecting this from you..”

you grimaced at his words, feeling worse about your situation. great, you were not the only one disappointed by yourself.

your professor must have noticed because his tone immediately became gentle as he gave you a comforting smile. 

“see, the only reason i asked you to stay back was because i know you can do better”, he shuffled through a register seemingly looking for something. “i’m sure you have your reasons as to why your performance went down. i know you can improve again.”

you nodded at his words, already starting to feel better, “yes professor i-”

“which is why i think you should get tutored”, he cut you off.

you froze. tutoring? this was so embarrassing, usually you were the one to provide tutoring to others, and now you have to be the one to receive it? no thank you.

you let out a small chuckle, “i understand professor, but i think i can handle it by myself.”

his brows creased at your words, “i don’t think you have enough time for that, the exams are nearing and you have managed to mess up even the basic things in the exam.”

you sighed at his words, silently accepting your fate because he wasn’t wrong. maybe you should swallow your ego and just get tutored, it was for your own good anyway.

taking a deep breath you put on a fake smile and gritted out, “okay.”

the rush of your mary jane clad feet filled the hallways of hogwarts with clopping sounds. your feet skidded to a stop in front of the library doors and you placed your hand over your chest, trying to catch your breath from the ten minute long run. you were late for your first tutoring session because your evening nap went a little longer than expected. 

brushing out stray hair strands from your face you opened the doors and stepped in, looking around for your tutor. the only person other than you was a boy with raven hair, sitting on a bench completely surrounded by bookshelves. 

you approached him, assuming he was your tutor. 

“uh hey!”, you called out in an unsure manner. “are you my assigned tutor for po-”

“yes”, he cut you off curtly, not even bothering to spare you a glance. “take a seat.”

you frowned in confusion at his cold behaviour and pulled out a chair to sit next to him. he seemed to be shuffling through some papers and organising them. a few seconds went by with him failing to acknowledge your presence. you cleared your throat awkwardly and introduced yourself, trying to get his attention. 

his head immediately shot up as soon as he heard your name, his eyes widening in what you could tell was surprise. confused at his reaction, you just gave him a small smile. he was silent for a while, giving you enough time to take in his features.

bangs fell over the smooth skin of his forehead and he looked at you through glasses which fit perfectly on his face, adding on to his handsome features. you had seen him around a few times as you shared a few classes with him. he was one of the smartest students, loved by all his teachers.

“uh i’m jungwon”, his voice broke through the awkward silence.

you nodded, “hey. i’ve seen you around.”

his lips pulled up into a smile at that as he let out a small laugh nervously. you raised your eyebrows at his sudden shift in demeanour. just a moment ago he didn’t care about your presence and now he was smiling? whatever.

“professor told me you had been facing some problems with potions”, he looked down and tapped his quill on the table. “what can i help you with?”

you explained how you messed up the practical test for your mocks. he listened intently, never breaking eye contact with you which made you a bit nervous. 

you came to an end of your rant but jungwon still maintained eye contact with you, his chin resting on his hand now. 

you cleared your throat, “so..?”

he still seemed to be staring at you, his eyes out of focus as he dreamily smiled at you.

frowning at his odd behaviour, you waved your hand in front of his face which broke him out of his thoughts. his eyes widened momentarily as he shook his head, a small blush spreading across his cheeks.

“are you sick?”

he chuckled nervously, “no no i was just planning out how i could help you”

he picked up a quill and started writing a plan for you in neat handwriting. once he was done, he passed the sheet over to you.

“we’ll follow this for the next two weeks. meet me in the potions class at four tomorrow.”

you gave a once over at what he had written and smiled at him. “will do, thanks jungwon!”

he nodded and started packing up his things. when he was done he looked at you expectantly, “it’s time for dinner, let’s go to the great hall together.”

you smiled and gathered your things as well.

it was the first day of your tutoring and you were early today.

or you thought so.

glancing around the potions classroom, you spotted jungwon already there. he was perched on a stool, arranging vials and flasks on the tables. unlike his usual composed demeanour in class, he seemed flustered, his bangs falling over his forehead as he fumbled with a particularly stubborn stopper.

he looked up as he heard you shuffle in, a relieved smile splitting his face.

"ah, there you are! i was starting to think you'd gotten lost."

"lost?" you repeated, a laugh escaping your lips. "in the potions classroom? hardly."

he chuckled, a nervous undertone to it. "right, of course. so, are you ready to tackle some invisibility potion today?"

you straightened your robes, a determined glint in your eyes. "ready as i'll ever be. though," you added, an unsure lilt in your voice, "considering my track record, maybe 'invisible' isn't the best thing to start off with."

jungwon's hummed, his cheeks flushing. "well, that's why we're practising, isn't it? to avoid another...disappearing act?"

you snorted. "exactly. though, to be fair, the professor did say my failed polyjuice potion was rather impressive in its...uniqueness."

he winced. "right. let's just focus on not achieving sentience with our cauldron this time, alright?"

the rest of the afternoon was a whirlwind of chopping netslime and muttering incantations. jungwon was a patient tutor, though his explanations sometimes devolved into nervous rambling when your eyes met. 

by the end of the session, your potion shimmered a faint, almost-invisible blue. not perfect, but a far cry from your previous disasters. jungwon beamed, his earlier awkwardness replaced by genuine pride.

"see? you're a natural! with a little more practice, you'll be brewing like snape in no time."

you laughed. "snape? now that's a terrifying image."

he chuckled, then cleared his throat, his gaze flickering away. "well, i should probably get going. i have herbology first thing tomorrow."

you nodded, gathering your things. "alright, see you then. and jungwon?"

he stopped at the door, his eyes questioning.

"thanks a lot for doing this. i already feel more confident.”

he smiled at that, making you do the same unconsciously.

the next two weeks flew by in a flurry of potion-making and stolen glances in your sessions, and outside of it whenever you both crossed paths. you had made a new friend and you were grateful for his help. you found yourself approaching the cauldron with newfound determination. your brews were improving steadily, and the playful banter during your sessions only added to the enjoyment.

one particularly chilly evening, you hurried down to the room of requirement, the usual meeting place for your secret DA practice sessions. you entered to find the familiar sight of your fellow students practising disarming spells and dodging jinxes. but amidst the chaos, you spotted an unexpected face – jungwon.

he was facing away from you, expertly deflecting a curse with a flick of his wand. you blinked, momentarily speechless. you never knew jungwon was a part of this! a warmth bloomed in your chest, a mixture of surprise and a strange sense of pride.

"nice one, jungwon!" , you called out, a wide grin on your face. jungwon turned, his eyes meeting yours. a flicker of surprise crossed his features before he broke into a wide grin.

"hey there," he said casually, striding over to you. "didn't expect to see you here."

"me neither," you admitted, a smile playing on your lips. "i guess you're not just a potions prodigy, huh?"

he chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly. "turns out i have a few other hidden talents."

the rest of the evening flew by in a whirlwind of practice. seeing jungwon in this new light – confident, skilled, and fighting for a cause you both believed in – made your heart flutter. he was everything you admired and more.

admire? since when did that happen?

shaking your head to rid yourself of such thoughts, you got back to practising your charm. although, over the duration of the practise, your mind couldn’t help but wander towards jungwon’s recent behaviour. he had been sweet to you since the beginning, always ready to help out. and the way he blushed around you and quipped with you, you couldn’t help but think that maybe he also felt something? 

as the group started dispersing, you lingered near the room's entrance, feigning the need to adjust your cloak.

"hey," jungwon's voice startled you. he was packing his bag, a casual smile playing on his lips. "didn't head out yet?"

"actually," you began, fiddling with the strap of your bag, "there was something i wanted to ask you about."

his smile widened in invitation. "shoot."

you took a deep breath. "it's about dumbledore's army. we've been working on patronus charms lately, and well, i'm struggling a bit." shame tinged your cheeks. you weren't used to needing help with spells.

jungwon's expression softened with understanding. "a patronus charm, huh? tricky business, that. but hey, i might be able to offer some pointers."

relief washed over you. "really? that would be amazing!"

he gestured towards a secluded corner of the room. "come on, then. let's see what you're working with."

you settled onto the dusty floor, explaining your struggles. you could conjure a faint wisp of silvery light, but it was far from the actual form you needed. jungwon listened intently, occasionally asking clarifying questions.

"okay," he said once you finished, "it seems you've got the basic idea down. the key is focusing on a strong, happy memory. something that evokes a feeling of pure joy and warmth."

he saw your hesitant expression and chuckled. "don't worry, it's not a competition to see who has the most embarrassing childhood memory."

you forced a smile. "no, of course not." but your mind struggled to find that perfect memory.

jungwon seemed to sense your frustration. "close your eyes," he instructed gently. 

"take a deep breath and try to visualise a place that makes you feel truly happy. maybe a familiar place from your childhood, a special time with a friend, anything that brings a smile to your face."

you closed your eyes, following his guidance. images flickered through your mind – family picnics, winning a quidditch match, late-night talks with your best friend. but none of them seemed to spark the necessary warmth.

just as you were about to give up, a memory surfaced. a smile bloomed on your face. you opened your eyes and met jungwon's gaze. "i think i have it," you whispered.

he nodded encouragingly. "focus on that feeling. the warmth, the happiness, let it flow through you and into your wand."

you closed your eyes again, picturing the memory that brought you happiness. it was a little hazy as you tried to focus on the touch and sounds from that memory. with a deep breath, you pointed your wand forward and muttered the incantation.

a wisp of silvery light erupted from your wand, growing and solidifying into a shape. it wasn't perfect – the outline of a cat was more suggestion than a form – but it was a patronus. you had finally done it.

a cheer escaped your lips as you realised you had finally done it. you looked at jungwon, your heart brimming with gratitude. "i did it!"

he beamed, genuine pride radiating from him. "see? you're a natural. you just needed a little nudge in the right direction."

his words held a hint of something more, something that sent a shiver down your spine. you wanted to thank him properly, to express just how much his help meant to you. 

"thank you, jungwon," you murmured, your voice barely a whisper. you wished, however, that your patronus could solidify into something more impressive, something that truly reflected the whirlwind of emotions swirling inside you.

as if sensing your unspoken desire, jungwon stepped closer. his movements were subtle, almost hesitant. but before you could question it, he reached behind you, his hand gently wrapping around yours, enclosing both your hands and your wand within his hold.

a jolt of electricity shot through you at his touch. the air in the room crackled with a tension you hadn't noticed before. your focus on the patronus wavered momentarily, replaced by a hyper awareness of jungwon's warm torso pressed against your back, his fingers brushing against yours.

his warm breath fanned over your ear as he whispered even though there was no one around to hear you both, “now completely focus on that memory.”

the room seemed to shrink, the air growing thick with unspoken tension. you focused on the memory, it acting as a soothing anchor in the storm brewing inside you. but this time, something was different. the wispy light from your wand pulsed, growing brighter, solidifying. the faint outline of a cat sharpened, taking on a more defined form.

in the heightened focus, you were oblivious to everything except the memory and the warmth radiating from jungwon's hand on yours. the familiar nostalgia from the memory echoed in your mind, a beacon of happiness. with a burst of energy, a fully formed silver cat patronus materialised, leaping and frolicking around the room.

you gasped in awe, forgetting everything else. "it's perfect! it's actually a perfect patronus!" 

you jumped, unknowingly pushing yourself more into jungwon, making him wrap his hands loosely around you as he chuckled lowly. you spun around to share your joy with him.

but as you turned, your breath hitched. you were impossibly close to him, his hand still wrapped around yours, his face mere inches away. his eyes were dark and intense, a mirror of the emotions swirling within you. the air crackled with unspoken desire.

you leaned in, heart pounding a frantic rhythm against your ribs. he tilted his head ever so slightly, his lips hovering a whisper away from yours. his breath hitched ever so slightly, as you both leaned in, the space between your lips closing with each passing second.

just as your lips were about to meet, jungwon pulled back abruptly. 

he cleared his throat, his hand falling away from yours. "that's... that's amazing," he stammered, his eyes flickering away from yours. "a perfect patronus. you really are something else."

his words held a strange distance, and a knot of unease tightened in your stomach. the electric tension that had thrummed in the air moments ago had dissipated, replaced by an awkward silence. you weren't sure what had happened, but embarrassment washed over you in suffocating waves. the joy of your achievement felt strangely hollow now.

your patronus immediately vanished into thin air, leaving a trail of sparkles behind.

the tension in the room receded as quickly as it had risen, leaving a bewildered silence in its wake. you blinked, confused and slightly disappointed. why did he stop?

"i, uh," he stammered, looking at his shoes, "i think it's getting late. maybe we should call it a night?"

did he regret the near kiss? or was there something else at play? 

you opened your mouth to ask, but the words wouldn't come. the magic of the patronus lingered, a bittersweet reminder of what could have been.

"yeah," you finally managed, your voice barely a whisper. "it's getting late."

jungwon offered a small smile that didn't quite reach his eyes before gathering his things and hurrying towards the exit. you watched him go, a myriad of emotions swirling within you.

disappointment gnawed at you like a dementor during your potions class the next day. your potions professor, inspecting your bubbling concoction with a delighted smile, declared it "exactly by the book."

he beamed, announcing, "it appears the extra sessions have paid off! perhaps we can consider them concluded, wouldn't you agree?"

a lump formed in your throat. you glanced at jungwon, expecting a playful jab or a celebratory nod. but he simply shrugged, a noncommittal, ‘sounds good to me,’ escaping his lips.

the professor's words should have filled you with relief. you were back on track, independent once more. yet, as the class ended, all you felt was a hollow emptiness. you caught jungwon's eye for a fleeting moment, hoping for a familiar spark or a shared grin. instead, he averted his gaze, muttering a hurried goodbye and hurried out of the classroom.

this became a pattern over the next few days. in the hallways, where you once exchanged playful jibes, jungwon now seemed to melt into the background whenever you approached. shared classes were endured in a tense silence, his friendly demeanour replaced by a distant politeness. 

you replayed the scene in the room of requirement over and over in your head, desperately trying to pinpoint where you'd gone wrong. 

had you misread the tension? had you moved too fast, startled him with your sudden boldness?

one evening, you found yourself lingering outside the room of requirement, the usual meeting place for dumbledore's army. you weren't sure why you were there, perhaps a desperate hope that jungwon would appear. the door creaked open, and your best friend peeked out.

"lost something?" she asked, her brow quirked in concern.

you shook your head, the words refusing to form.

"everything alright?" she pressed gently, her perceptive eyes searching yours.

you sighed, finally blurting out, "it's jungwon. did i…did i do something wrong?"

her knowing smile softened the blow. "ah," she said, pulling you into a hug. "sometimes, the most powerful potions are brewed in silence, simmering with unspoken emotions."

her words offered little comfort, but they planted a seed in your mind. maybe rushing something as delicate as what you felt for jungwon wasn't the way. maybe patience, like the perfect potion, required time and the right balance of ingredients. you resolved to let things cool, to focus on mastering your spells and potions, hoping that maybe, one day, the right opportunity would present itself, and the spark you shared with jungwon wouldn't need words to reignite.

screw whatever you thought before. you couldn't wait for that ‘one day’ to come as you watched your classmate, a girl with hair like spun sunshine, practically cling to jungwon's arm in herbology. they were bent over, giggling like pixies at a particularly stubborn gillyweed.

fury replaced the embers of hope your friend had ignited. who was this girl? had he moved on that quickly? 

jealousy bubbled in your stomach as you stalked away from the window, hurt settling in your chest. but you were determined to make things right, even if it meant making your friendship(?) with him awkward, you needed to know what went wrong. 

the bell signalling the end of class was your cue. you bolted out, weaving through students, your eyes locked on jungwon. he noticed you coming, a flicker of surprise crossing his face, but before he could react, you were upon him.

he was walking with the sunshine-haired girl, lost in their own conversation, until a breathless, "jungwon!" ripped him from it. he turned, eyes widening further when he saw your determined, (slightly crazed) expression.

"uh, hi?" he stammered, glancing between you and the girl who stood blinking at you both, confused.

"excuse me," you said politely through gritted teeth to the girl, who, thankfully, scurried off with a mumbled ‘see you later, jungwon.’

now, alone with the reason of your anger and surging jealousy, you grabbed his arm and steered him away from the castle grounds. you marched him past the greenhouses until you reached a secluded clearing near the black lake. there, with a flourish that would have earned you points in charms class, you pinned him against a sturdy oak tree.

he stared at you, bewildered, as your chest heaved. "okay," he started cautiously, "what's going on?"

"what's going on?" you sputtered, finally finding your voice. "what's going on is, i thought we had...something!" you gestured wildly towards the castle, where you could still see a flicker of sunshine hair disappear around a corner.

jungwon blinked, then a slow blush crept up his neck. "we...we do! we had potions tutoring sessions, remember?"

you threw your hands up in exasperation. "ugh, not tutoring! this…this unspoken thing we have!"

his blush deepened, and he mumbled something inaudible under his breath.

"what?" you demanded.

he took a deep breath. "look, about that night in the room of requirement..."

"yes?" you leaned in, heart pounding.

he cleared his throat. "maybe i… i overreacted. i wasn't sure what you were feeling, and…"

he trailed off, his gaze dropping to the ground. you gaped at him, realising the truth. you hadn't scared him off, he'd scared himself off! 

but there was more. a flicker of insecurity crossed his eyes. "and to be honest," he admitted sheepishly, "the real reason i've been avoiding you… well, it's because i was trying to figure out how to tell you something...something big."

you blinked. here you were, fuming about a nonexistent threat, while jungwon had been battling his own insecurities. the situation was hilarious, almost. but mostly, it was endearing.

a slow smile spread across your face. "well, spill it, jungwon. don't leave me in suspense."

he fumbled with his words, cheeks burning a fiery red. "it's about...well, ever since the beginning of this year, i’ve looked at you…in a different light."

your heart thrummed erratically now, hoping he was getting to where you wanted him to.

"...and, well, you're not just funny and smart, you're kind and brave, and the way you laugh at my stupid jokes, it just makes me..." his voice trailed off, his eyes pleading with yours. 

his rambling was adorable, but the knot of frustration in your stomach tightened with every nervous stammer. you couldn't take it anymore.

grabbing him by the collar, you silenced him with a kiss. it started desperate, fueled by the need to know his true feelings, but as his lips met yours, it melted into something sweeter. you poured your unspoken emotions into that kiss, the frustration, the longing, the dawning hope. 

suddenly, jungwon spun you around, switching your positions so that you were pushed against the tree now. your breath hitched in surprise at his sudden show of confidence. he dove back into the kiss, his soft lips moving against yours in fervour. the intensity of your kiss increased along with your pulse and you were pretty sure jungwon could feel it with the way he was pressed up against you

when he finally pulled back, breathless and dizzy, a different kind of silence hung in the air.

jungwon stared at you as your cheeks flushed a brilliant crimson, mirroring the sunset bleeding across the lake. finally, a smile bloomed on his face, genuine and relieved. 

"see," he breathed, voice husky, "that was much easier than all that."

you laughed, a genuine sound that echoed through the clearing. relief washed over you, warm and tingly. "i should be the one saying that" you teased.

“yeah well i chickened out”, he scratched his head in embarrassment, “i wanted my confession to be perfect.”

you smirked, “yeah well what you pulled right now was very romantic. i didn’t know you had that in you.”

he rolled his eyes playfully and grabbed your hand, lacing his fingers with yours. “you liked it though. let’s head back now, it’s almost time for dinner.”

you smiled as you walked in step with him, swinging your intertwined hands back and forth. he squeezed your hand with a cheeky grin on his face.  you returned the squeeze looking up at him in question, when his next words had a blush blooming on your face.

“i hope you’re going to pay me back for those lessons with more of such kisses.”

𝗰𝗼𝗽𝘆𝗿𝗶𝗴𝗵𝘁 ©𝗴𝘆𝘂𝘂𝗯𝗲𝗿𝗿𝘆𝘆 on Tumblr

˚ · .𝗮𝗹𝗹 𝗿𝗶𝗴𝗵𝘁𝘀 𝗿𝗲𝘀𝗲𝗿𝘃𝗲𝗱

[jyoongim]

Themes: posessiveness, slight yandere behavior, mentions of cannibalism, softcore smut,

After 7 years the Radio Demon is back!

But things arent how he left them…

Vox has taken it upon himself to be in charge of all things media

Radio has turned to Video

And Alastor’s little darling aint in her place…oh that just wont do

Your relationship with the Radio Demon was like a match made in Hell.

Alastor was a wild card by himself alone, but you? You never failed to keep him on his hooves?

You had been in the media world looong before Alastor popped up in Hell, having the title (ironic) Media Demon but somehow he managed to bring back the old themes that were once appreciated.

Not those podcasts or vlogs the youth were so prone to do

But things from the good old days.

Things that were considered ancient in the sense of modern tech.

Radio; Talk shows and actual live broadcasts.

Alastor and you quickly rose in popularity in the media realm [(you had a sneaky suspicion it was because he was terrifying and people honesty clung to an overlord’s word)]

You and Alastor had separate broadcasts, but you worked perfectly in sync with one another. Until one day…the Radio Demon disappeared, leaving you to run your show alone.

You did what you could, but the people seemed to miss the charismatic broadcaster as much as you and soon you were approached by Video.

“C’mon y/n, This will be a great improvement to your brand.” Vox smirked as you sipped the tea you were offered. You frowned. You were aware that media came in all formats but you enjoyed the ‘old’ way. “I dont know Vox, i prefer to be out of the camera’s eye” you said. Vox had been begging for years for you to join his team and claiming it would ‘boost’ your reputation. You didnt need a boost. You were THE Media Demon. If anything, you knew it would boost HIS popularity.

“Radio is so old-fashion, video is the future! You should be up to date with these things” he said. You grimaced “i am well aware of the trends, but not everyone likes this new savvy way, it is good to have a little variety”

Vox was getting annoyed.

Having you on the Vees would not only boost his claim to fame, but it would boost his power.

“The people would love to see the Media Demon in the public eye. You use to sing right? How about music production? You would kill sales with that voice of yours”

He was trying to butter you up.

Everyone knew you were a renown singer. A popstar once. You only showcased it a few times broadcasting when it was late at night and were in a mood.

Alastor loved to hear you sing.

“If you made videos people, your image can skyrocket” he continued.

You set your cup down, standing, having heard enough.

“I appreciate the offer Vox, but I will decline. I quite like stereo” and with that you left.

You made your way to the Hazbin Hotel.

To Alastor’s radio tower.

You sighed as you sat and stared at the station.

Maybe i should take Vox’s offer you thought as you collected your topics and put your headphones on.

You turned on the radio and did a count set

“How ya doin tonight folks? Its your favorite radio host and tonight you are in for a treat!” you gave the daily Hell gossip and opened the line for discussions. Letting out a laugh from a few of the responses you finally sighed “I have been offered the damning chance to retire from radio” you started. “I am sure you are all aware that I am fabulous of course, but i mean reverting to video can you imagine? And the audacity of Vox to even suggest just a thing. I think i do quite alright for a media connoisseur” you giggled.

As you chatted away you were unaware of the dark presence manifesting in the tower.

“Dial in im opening the lines to hear your opinions”

You listened in

“I think it could be good to switch it up!”

“Youre the Media Demon you could crush anything!”

“Y/n youre incredible!”

“Video kills the Radio star!”

You were about to chime in when a deep static like voice sounded

“I think you mean Radio killed the Video star”

Your eyes widened and spun around to see Alastor

“A-Alastor?”

His devilish smile sharpened as he pressed a button to cut the lines and removed your headphones “its been a while darling”

You couldnt help yourself as you launched at him for a hug.

You quickly recovered and let him go, stuttering “oh oh im sorry but w-what are you doing here? I-i thought you were gone”

Alastor grinned, bringing your hand up to his lips to press a kiss to it

“Ooooh mon cher i could never stay away from you”

You blushed.

Alastor pulled you into an embrace, his grip a little tight

“So what it is i hear of you forsaking radio?”

[star-girl69]

I Can See You

Clarisse La Rue x Fem!AphroditeCabin!Reader

—-

sypnosis: you and clarisse work together to get revenge on a mutual enemy, but when that plan involves pretending to date clarisse, something better than revenge happens. requested by anonymous!

a/n: I AM SO EXCITED FOR THIS ONE HOLY FRICK. the beginning is so bad and just like worldbuilding but i PROMISE!!!!! keep reading!!!!!! pls ignore the fact im reusing jackie and tyla i’m attached to them anyways i hope you all enjoy!!

I Can See You - Taylor Swift

(also Dress by tay was the original title soooo…..)

warnings: not proofread, the beginning is so bad i swear it gets better, a little suggestive haha…., kissing ofc, fake dating!!!!!!!!!, JEALOUS CLARISSE JEALOUS CLARISSE I REPEAT JEALOUS CLARISSE!!!!!!!, swearing, violence, mentions of murder!, protective clarisse the loml, ALCOHOL!!!!! reader gets drunk, allusions to sex, MENTIONS OF SEXUAL ASSAULT please be VERY careful, tell me if i missed anything!!

—-

“What the hell are you all doing?”

You had waited until nighttime for a reason, for the light of the full moon and hopefully some peace. You and your siblings looked up at the voice.

Xavier Bones was possibly the rudest and most self-centered person you had ever had the displeasure of meeting. His father was Ares, which made sense, seeing as he had a wicked temper and was strong as shit. Most of the kids from the Ares cabin could probably snap you like a stick if they wanted, but what scares you about Xavier is that he might actually do it.

He’s rude to everyone he sees, but he particularly has it out for the Aphrodite cabin. Just because Aphrodite kids didn’t have skill in battle like Ares kids, or aren’t wicked smart like Athena kids doesn’t mean they’re worthless. Xavier just didn’t understand anything except brute force.

He didn’t understand any other kind of power.

The whole reason you’re out here tonight is to finally finish the potion you’ve been making. Amokinesis was strictly a spoken sort of magic, and it was hard to do it to more than one person. But, you and your siblings had decided that maybe you could try and follow in the steps of sorceresses like Medea and Circe, using spelled objects and potions to execute your power. You had been collaborating with a Hecate kid for weeks now, learning everything you could about potion making until you were finally ready to try and make a simple truth potion- love and desire also opened the door to truth.

Aster, the daughter of Hecate who had been helping you, said it was a relatively easy first timer potion and hopefully with your Amokinesis it would come together.

You look up at Xavier, watching as he smiles in disbelief.

“Oh, don’t tell me you’re trying to make some sort of love potion, huh?” He sits down at the picnic table, curiously leaning in to look at it.

“Get back,” Jackie, your sibling, hisses waving her hand at him so he’ll back up.

“Okay, okay,” he smiles, some glint in his eyes. He holds his hands up in mock surrender. “I’m just trying to figure out why you’re wasting all this time, seeing as it probably won’t work.”

“Shut up, Xavier,” you sighed. You needed this bad. You needed to prove to everyone that love wasn’t a stupid power. You were so sick of Xavier, of everyone and their treatment of the Aphrodite cabin. Jackie wanted so desperately to learn how to use a spear, but no one would pay enough attention to her.

You need this.

“I thought you guys were supposed to be nice?”

You opt to ignore him.

“Hm, okay, definitely not nice. Good thing I’m not either.”

He spits his gum out and drops it straight into the cauldron.

“Fucking bitch!” Jackie screams, Tyla looks like she’s about to cry, and the wooden spoon you’re holding in your hands is about to crack under the pressure.

The potion changes an odd color, a murky brown.

“Oops,” he says.

He laughs and walks away, and you faintly wonder what happened to him to make him so cruel.

—-

The next morning you’re all stewing silently at breakfast. Jackie is glaring daggers at the Ares table, Tyla is ranting about how you need to get all the ingredients again, and you’re trying to listen and join Jackie at staring maliciously.

“I’m gonna murder him, I think.”

“I’ll help,” you murmur, favoring staring at your hands instead of being caught staring at him.

“Do you think Clarisse will let me borrow her spear? How much would that sting, getting killed by one of your Dad’s weapons, huh?”

“She probably would,” Tyla mumbles. “She hates him too, ever since he beat her sparring.”

You resist the urge to scoff. You were there that day, and Xavier had played dirty.

They were sparring, she was winning, when he suddenly pointed behind her and shouted that Ares was there. Of course, everyone had turned to look, and he had disarmed her and kicked her down while she was distracted.

Of course, the next day he was walking around sporting a black eye, but Clarisse had never lived that day down. Xavier had never lived that down, either, exactly why they’re sitting on opposite ends of the table now.

Jackie stares off into the distance. She lets out a small laugh.

“I have a horrible idea.”

“What if we make Xavier fall in love with one of us, right?”

You and Tyla both gag.

“Wait, wait! But then we just lead him on, and maybe Clarisse will do us a favor and pretend to date-”

Tyla snorts. “She would never do that.”

You remember seeing the anger on her face that day. The rage, really, the betrayal. But you remember seeing the sadness too. A part of her had really thought Ares was gonna be there. You remember feeling so, so bad for her.

No one should deserve to feel like that, but it comes with the territory of being a demigod.

“It wouldn’t hurt to ask, right?”

Tyla and Jackie stare at you like you’ve just cursed out Hades.

“I’ll do it. Tyla, no offense, but I think you’d crack under the pressure. And Jacks, you would just start punching him.”

“Yeah,” Tyla murmurs.

“I would,” Jackie agrees.

“I mean, it might actually work.”

—-

You corner her the next day.

She’s outside her cabin, practicing some spear forms when you walk over to her. This is all moving so fast, but you can’t help the fact that revenge is so fun. Why wait when you can get it now?

Revenge is supposed to be served best cold, but you’ve always been a little too handsy, a little too greedy for your own good. You want revenge and you want it now.

“Clarisse, hi.” You smile, she spares you a glance and doesn’t say anything. “I’m Y/N, you don’t know me but I was wondering if I could ask you for a favor.”

The spear stops in mid air. She moves from a offensive position to a standing position, and she looks you up and down so painfully slow that you think your organs are gonna burst.

“What?”

“So, you know Xavier?” you sit down on the picnic bench behind you. “I’m sure you know him, and I’m sure you know that he’s an asshole. He ruined something me and my siblings were doing, and he’s been so rude to all Aphrodite kids for so long so, we just wanna get him back.

She squints at you. “How?”

“We’re gonna use our amokinesis to make him fall in love with me, then maybe, hopefully, we can fake date to make him lose his mind.”

She stares at you blankly for a second. Your heart drops, oh, Gods, you never should have done this.

You’re gonna be the laughingstock of camp.

“‘Cause, you know, you both hate each others guts. And if he’s in love with me, but then he sees you and me together- it was this whole thing about making him see the power of love, you know, ‘cause like-”

She grabs you by your cheeks, pinching your face together, your lips puffing out.

“You can stop rambling, now.” She smiles in a demeaning way, and you would feel insulted if the way she wasn’t gripping your face right now wasn’t addicting. “I actually think it’s a pretty great plan. Surprising, but, whatever.”

You ignore that.

“So, you’ll do it?”

“When are you gonna spell him?”

“As soon as possible, tonight, at the bonfire.”

“Okay,” she nods, thinking to herself. “Come meet me before you do it.”

“Yeah, sure.”

Clarisse La Rue touched your face. Clarisse touched your face, and you really fucking liked it.

—-

The three of you sit by the edge of the bonfire. You locked eyes with Clarisse a few minutes ago, letting her know you’re here.

Tyla fusses with your hair, even though you all spent an hour making everything about you perfect. It would be nice to look hot if you were gonna make him fall in love with you.

You watch as she makes her way towards the bathrooms.

Her golden skin shines in the light of the fire, she adjusts her shirt, and you swear you see her abs just under the orange fabric-

“Clarisse is pretty, isn’t she?” Tyla says. “I mean, I almost wish I was the one fake dating her.”

And she is. She is so painfully pretty.

“I’ll tell you all about it,” you wink.

When you step into the bathroom, Clarisse locks the door behind you. You turn around and she’s there. She looks you up and down. You can’t make out the look on her face.

“You’re really trying to impress him, huh?” she smirks. You ignore that.

The ceiling is low in here, so you walk to the corner and reach up at the loose board. You slide it over, reaching inside and grabbing the small bag.

Aphrodite kid secret- makeup is hidden everywhere around camp.

She stares at you. “Has that always been up there?”

You go to the mirror, taking out the mascara and applying another layer.

“Uh… yeah.”

She leans against the wall next to the mirror, watching you with such an intensity it’s like you’re the one beautiful thing in some bloody war she can’t take her eyes away from.

“We should probably set some ground rules,” you say. She hums. “This will probably only be for a month or so.”

“That’s fine.”

You stare pointedly at yourself in the mirror. You, Jacks and Tyla had dumped almost all of your plates into the offerings fire at lunch, hoping for good luck from Aphrodite. With the way your skin seems to glow, your makeup flawless, it seems she’s pleased by your offerings.

Maybe her and Ares are having a fight up on Olympus, and she’s itching to see him knocked down a peg, however vicariously through someone else.

“Well, you can do whatever you want to me.”

“I- what?” you blink, staring at Clarisse like she just turned into a cyclops.

“You can kiss me, hug me, whatever. I mean, we should really do this if we’re gonna do it. Sell it, or whatever.”

“Oh, okay. Yeah, I guess you can do whatever too.”

Clarisse can touch you wherever she wants.

You look up discreetly. Please, Mom, you think. Don’t let me fall in love with Clarisse La Rue.

It’s fine to admit to yourself that you’d like to jump on top of her, but she’s still an Ares kid. She’s a bully, if you’re being honest. But can you say that you’re not one too after this?

Love can burn down cities, love can start wars, love can end them. Love is always there from the beginning of your life to your beginning. The doctor who delivered you loves their career. The woman who makes flower arrangement for your funeral loves flowers, even if she hates making them for funerals.

Love is always there, and when it’s used as a weapon you know it is one of the deadliest things.

But you’re too deep in this now.

She walks around so she’s standing behind you, adjusting her hair in the mirror.

She puts her hand on your hip. You take a deep breath, you pretend. You pretend so hard it might become real.

She smiles brightly in the mirror. “See you out there, baby.”

—-

You pull your top down. That’s the easiest way to get a man to look at you. Pull your top down. You get a few looks as you move through the tree trunk benches, careful that you don’t accidentally trip, because that would completely fuck up the plan.

There’s a part of you that comes from your mother. The part that some may call vain, but how is it your fault to enjoy the attention that other people are giving you? It’s not your fault they’re looking. It’s not your fault you look like your mother’s daughter.

You walk a little longer, finally setting your eyes on Xavier, sitting across the fire from Clarisse and her group. You eyes meet hers. She pretends to itch her nose, but you can see the laugh she’s hiding. You take one more deep breath, say one more please to your mother.

“Xavier,” you say. “Can I sit?”

He already seems a little shocked that you’re talking to him on purpose, but he quickly recovers and pushes his friend down the trunk.

You sit, your thigh touching his, folding your hands over your legs.

“I just wanted to say, Xavier, that you were right. The other night… the potion would have failed anyways. Thank you so much for ruining it when you did. Who knows what could have happened? It could have exploded everywhere.”

You laugh, putting your hand on his arm. He looks up at you, mouth slightly parted.

You said his name twice and he’s already sucked in.

“Really, Xavier, thank you.” You smile softly, looking at his lips before back up to his eyes.

His hand lands on your knee.

“You’re welcome, sweetheart.”

You watch Jackie walk by. He doesn’t hear her whisper. But you see it in his eyes.

You pretend to blush, brushing your hand down his arm before it lands back in your own lap. He leans in closer, until his lips are brushing your ear.

“Why don’t I give you some more things to be thankful for?”

Tyla walks by. He doesn’t hear her whisper either.

“Oh, I should really get back to Clarisse. Sorry, Xavier,”

His hand tightens on your knee and he pulls back.

“C-Clarisse? What would you be doing with her?”

You feign innocence. “Well, she’s my girlfriend. I do a lot of things with her,” you giggle. “I just wanted to thank you, but I should get going. Bye, Xavier!”

You blow him a kiss as you stand up, and you can practically see the hearts in his eyes right along with the blazing rage. You can feel him stare as you walk away, hips swaying.

Clarisse is still trying to hide her laugh when you start walking over to her. The tree trunk around her is all full of people, and a few more are even on the ground.

You stand in front of her, smiling softly.

“Are you not gonna let your girlfriend sit down?”

“Of course I am.”

She leans back and pats her knee. She draws you forward by wrapping her big hand around your hip. When you sit down, she rests her hand flat against your stomach, pressing you right to her. Her other hand rests on your thigh.

Please, Mom, don’t let me fall in love with Clarisse La Rue. Don’t let me like her touching me like this.

Everyone is staring.

It’s exhilarating.

You twist your face into something serious, trying not to break out into a fit of embarrassing giggles.

Her breath tickles your neck.

“I gotta admit, you little witch, that was impressive.”

You smile and place your hand over hers.

“I know.”

—-

The day after the bonfire, everybody at camp is talking about you and Clarisse.

How long have they been dating? Why did they decide to become public now? I swear I saw Y/N and Xavier getting close, though, what happened?

You’ve been trying not to break out laughing all morning. During breakfast you blew Clarisse a kiss and heard one of your siblings gasp dramatically and mumble about how sweet young love is.

Jackie and Tyla made paper hearts for you during arts n’ crafts, talking loudly about how you were such a lovesick little thing. You know Xavier heard about all of those things, because he stares at you every chance he gets and glares at Clarisse at the same time.

You keep exchanging subtle glances with her, small smiles, secrets in between your gazes. It’s nice to have something like this.

After dinner, the two of you go to the woods to pretend like you’re having a secret date. Clarisse brings her spear and you bring a blanket.

You’ve been laying there comfortably for a while, arms under your head like a pillow.

“I wanna know how you did it,” she says, turning her spear in her hands. You open one eye to look at her.

“I say his name a bunch of times. With, like, a lot of intention. Then Jackie and Tyla came by and whispered “you’re in love with the girl in front of you” and other stuff like that. It’s hard to explain. It’s just, like, this power.”

“I was imagining, like, one of those mortal movies, you know? A potion, or something.”

“Oh, we’re trying that too. Medea used her amokinesis in the form of potions and spelled objects, so me, Jackie, and Tyla have been talking to Aster, who’s a child of Hecate, and we tried to make a truth potion.” You laugh, thinking of that night. “That’s why we’re doing this, actually. Xavier found us and stuck his gum in it, so… completely ruined. We have to wait for the next full moon and get all the ingredients. It sucks, whatever, I guess.”

She listened intently the entire time you were talking. Aphrodite kids are always jumping from one thing to another. Clarisse is so focused and single-minded. It feels good to be the center of just one person’s attention. Not having people look at you, but just one person look at you.

“Every time I see him I think about stabbing him 20 times. Now I’ll think about sticking gum in his ear, too.” She turns to you and smiles.

None of that stupid smirking shit she always does, or those over-exaggerated demeaning smiles, she really smiles at you.

Her smile is really pretty.

You laugh along with her after a second.

“I would love to see that,” you murmur, propping yourself up on your forearms. “What really made you agree to do this? I mean, I know you guys surface level hate each other but, come on, I was just rambling and you were all ‘let’s do it’.”

“I hate him,” she shrugs. “Why do you care, anyways? You got what you wanted. Enjoy my beautiful self while it lasts.”

“Yeah, okay,” you chuckle.

You don’t leave until the stars come out.

—-

The second day after the bonfire, Clarisse invites you to sit with her at lunch. Usually, you’re supposed to stay at your cabin tables, but Chiron is busy all day and no one would snitch on Clarisse.

You walk over with your tray in hand, watching as she whispers something to her siblings. You smile at them before she pats the seat next to her.

“Hey,” the boy next to you greets. “I’m Matty.”

He points to the girl across from him. “That’s Marjorie,” he points to the other boy with dark skin across from Clarisse, “That’s Daniel,” and finally your eyes land on the blonde girl sitting across from you.

“I’m Sarah,” she smiles. She seems nice, at least. So does Matty. The rest just seem sort of standoffish. There’s a scuffle under the table, then Daniel glares at Clarisse.

“Hi, Y/N,” he says. “Nice to meet you.”

Matty is sickly sweet nice, handsome too, and you almost wonder if he’s really a child of Ares. But he’s got that same focus like Clarisse.

He asks you questions and listens to your answers.

He had the bad stroke of fate in accidentally getting you going about your experiments in potions and amokinesis, and you find yourself shuffling closer to him.

“Sorry,” you laugh. “I’ll stop torturing you now.”

“No, no, it’s fine. I love a passionate person.”

You weren’t sure if he meant that to be flirting.

Usually you’re good at picking up these things, all Aphrodite kids have a knack for it, but you think he’s just really nice.

You stare at him, tilting your head to the side when Clarisse suddenly grabs your waist and pulls you closer to her. Her breath tickles your neck, just like the bonfire.

“You’re supposed to be my girlfriend, not his,” she whispers, her chin resting against your shoulder.

You roll your eyes. “Am I not allowed to have a conversation?”

“Not when he’s looking.” You spare a quick glance. Xavier is looking at you, a mix between glaring and starting longingly.

“He looks like a cross-eyed dog,” you giggle.

And to your surprise, Clarisse presses her face into your shoulder to muffle her laugh.

—-

All the time you spend with Clarisse is like some stupid board game you play with Tyla and Jackie when there’s nothing else to do. Jenga. That one where you crack the ice and try not to make the polar ball fall.

The games where you chip it away slowly, one by one, wondering if this time will be the time that it falls, if you’ll be the one to lose the game.

You push a little more each time with Clarisse. Each conversation, you learn a little more, you chip away a few of her walls.

It’s addicting to open her up slowly, to get to know her like this. And when it’s just you and her alone, when Xavier isn’t around to torture, you swear it doesn’t feel fake.

—-

The eighth day after the bonfire, you skip arts n’ crafts to follow Clarisse to the archery range.

While the Apollo kids have all that effortless, natural skill with archery, Ares kids are still deadly. You faintly remember seeing Clarisse shoot once. Even though it’s not her weapon of choice, her aim was deadly and she didn’t miss one shot.

You’re okay with a bow.

Clarisse sees the perfect opportunity to flaunt in front of Xavier.

As soon as you crest the hill, your eyes find his, and he beelines towards you.

“Y/N, sweetheart, what can I do for you?”

It’s easy to switch on that stereotypical persona. You twist your fingers into your shirt.

“Yeah, can you help me?” you look up at him, trying to be as disgustingly sweet as you can,

“What’d you need?” he takes a step closer, about to cage you in between him and the cart full of bows and arrows.

“Can you help me pick out a bow? I don’t know what one would be right for me, I don’t know anything about archery. Please?”

He reaches past you, coming close so your back hits the wooden cart. You can’t help the way your eyes widen. He’s bold, you’ll give him that. Everyone reacts differently under the spell, but their true personalities still shine through.

He picks one up, running his hand up and down the curved wood. He plucks at the string, nodding to himself.

“This one’s fit for a lady.”

You take it, fingertips brushing his. “Oh, thank you so much, Xavier.” You give him a small side hug as you run past him, eager to get away from him.

You just need to find Clarisse.

“Hey, don’t you need some help shooting?” you glance over your shoulder, watching him advance.

Where the hell is Clarisse?

You’re about to say you’re fine when you suddenly slide into someone’s arms. You would have slammed into her, if not for the way Clarisse softly reached out to touch your arm, and Gods, you recognize the feel of her skin.

You knew she was there and you gratefully walked forward, your chests touching, her arm around your shoulders.

“I’ll take it from here, Xavier.”

You look up at her. She’s smiling in that same demeaning way.

You’ve grown to like it.

He doesn’t say anything else. You hear him stomp off.

You let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding. When you open your eyes after a moment, you realize how close you are.

You’re so close it’s just one move and that’s it. One move and you both know that’ll change it all.

You think she just worked out. You can feel the muscles of her arm against you, you can see the sweat on her hairline, you can see her breathing heavily.

You could just press your ear to her chest and feel everything.

The way her brown eyes reflect the sunshine is mesmerizing. You’ve been looking at her for so long, but it’s like you’re looking into the surface of a lake you swear you recognize, slightly green murky waters, but there was a whole world under the surface if you cared to look.

But you didn’t care to look for the Clarisse under the surface. You don’t care. You don’t want to.

She clears her throat and let’s go of you.

You back up.

“Put that thing down, he probably fucking poisoned it.”

You turn the bow in your hands, but when you look up, she’s already walking towards the far end of the field.

“Wait, wait, what am I gonna use then?”

“Mine, obviously.” You drop the bow.

—-

After taking a few deep breaths, and Clarisse going over the basics again, you filled your mind with images of a bow and arrow and not of her eyes. Not of her lips.

Clarisse La Rue hates Aphrodite kids too, just not as much as Xavier, and not enough to resist revenge.

You focus on that. That’s why you’re here. Revenge.

Revenge for every fucked up thing he’s said, revenge for every time he’s come too hard at you during capture the flag, revenge for all of your siblings and everyone he’s ever tortured.

“Ok, there, that’s a good stance.” She’s raking her eyes up and down your body. But you’re here for revenge. She glanced over her shoulder. “Except for…”

She presses her body to yours from behind, molding against you like she was made to protect you like this, her hand covering yours, her stance just a little wider. She glides her hand across your arm.

“Up, up, just a little.” She’s whispering right into your ear. You let her hands guide you. Your mouth feels dry. “Then let go.”

And how badly you want to let go. You want to let go of these feelings rolling around in your stomach like stones, you want to let go and let them become butterflies and fall into Clarisse.

You prayed to your mother not to fall in love with her, but maybe you should trust your mom. Maybe you should let go.

But you don’t.

You let go of the arrow instead, you keep your tumbling feelings inside, and to your shock you only hit a few inches from the bullseye.

The bow swings in your hand.

“Holy shit. Did I- did I just do that?”

Clarisse laughs. “You did, baby.”

You turn around and throw your arms around her neck, smiling wide and laughing hysterically. The bow was the one weapon you thought you could never master, and here you are after one lesson with Clarisse.

She wraps her arms around your waist, and even though you’ve hugged like this a million times, you both know it’s different this time. And you both ignore it.

But for one second, you’re pretending so hard it’s almost real. It’s almost a real date.

—-

On the ninth day, it all goes to shit.

Sword practice is held just after lunch, when the sun is still high in the sky. The Ares and Aphrodite cabins share the field first, and you, Jackie and Tyla take your time stretching to enjoy the show.

Tyla has to turn around to hide her laugh as you bend over slowly, making sure Xavier is watching, then when you face comes up flushed you smile at him. He smiles back.

You wave to Clarisse and he glares at her.

Jackie says it will take him 5 minutes to ask her to spar. Tyla says 5 too. You say it’ll take him maybe 3 minutes.

He spars with one person, a two minute match, then marched right up to Clarisse.

“How about we go, huh? Want another chance to try and beat me?”

Clarisse was smiling before he walked over, talking to her friends. Her smile fades and is replaced by the dark mask of pure focus.

“I’d love to beat you, Xavier.”

She walks past you to grab a sword from the rack.

Her eyes meet yours. You reach out and put your hand on her face, softly pressing her lips against yours. It’s a peck. It’s barely there. At least now you can check off a box and say you’ve kissed Clarisse La Rue.

She seems so shocked that you’ve actually kissed her you swear she loses her footing for a second. You swear her cheeks are a little flushed. By she stands up taller and ignores it, just like you’ve both been doing for so long.

“Good luck, baby!” you call as she walks off to the circle marked off for sparring.

Xavier looks like he’s about to light the grass on fire.

“She’s gonna beat his ass,” Jackie whispers.

“If he loses, do you think I should comfort him after?”

“Oh, Gods, yes,” Tyla smiles. “That’s so mean. We’re so mean.” It feels too good to stop.

Kissing Clarisse almost felt too good to stop. Even that second, one more longer and you would have been sucked in. You decide not to kiss her for however long this goes on.

Once you start kissing her, you’re scared you’ll never stop.

Revenge feels to good, and you need this.

As soon as they face each other Xavier springs out with a million offensive attacks, slightly sloppy- you can see his anger. Everyone knows you can’t let your emotion get in the way of battle.

Clarisse is calm and counters all his attacks. She even smiles, which makes your stomach flip in a way that isn’t fake.

Her sword flicks along his cheek. It’s a paper cut, barely.

“Oh no,” Clarisse fake frets. “You need me to walk you to the nurse?”

He grunts and launches an attack that’s just plain stupid. It’s messy. He swings too wide. She knocks his sword out of his hand.

He goes to dive for it but her sword is already at his neck.

He breathes heavily, staring at her, and it’s suddenly dead quiet. No more talking, no more swords clanging.

Your eyes are flicking in between them like a ball bouncing up and down. But they linger on Clarisse. Of course they linger on Clarisse.

It’s so quiet you swear you can hear her heartbeat.

“Daddy’s behind you,” he whispers.

She whips around, taking her sword with her, but no one is there. Of course no one is there.

Xavier runs away laughing, and Clarisse turns around. Her cheeks are flushed, she’s gripping the hand of the sword so tight you’re surprised it hasn’t broken off.

Clarisse is not your girlfriend. Clarisse is not even your friend.

But she’s someone, she’s someone to you, and you can’t stand to see her like this.

You walk forward and put your hand on her wrist, taking the sword from her. You’re not even in control of your arms and legs.

She stares pointedly at the distance.

“Let’s go,” you whisper, giving her no choice and pulling her along. You throw the sword at the rack.

—-

You end up in Clarisse’s cabin, door clicking shut behind you as you press your back to it. She stays silent for a moment, until she screams and throws someone’s pillow at the wall. You don’t say anything.

You don’t say anything but you follow her to her bed.

“I’m so sorry,” you whisper, watching as she sits down, fists clenched so tight you hope she isn’t bleeding. “I’m so sorry, Clarisse.”

“You weren’t the one who fell for it. You weren’t the one who fell for that stupid, stupid, childish trick. I did.”

“You wouldn’t even be here if it wasn’t for us and our plan. If it wasn’t for me.”

You sit down on the bed next to hers.

“Why are you even here? We’re not actually dating, dummy. You can go.”

“I know,” you murmur. You know. You know you aren’t dating. You know you shouldn’t be here. “But you’re still something, Clarisse.”

She slips off her armor.

“I’m not something to you.”

She wants someone else to hurt like she does. She wants someone else to take the fall, to be embarrassed and the center of everyone’s attention so she doesn’t have to.

“I’ll never be something to you, Y/N, just- just go away. This is over, I’m not doing it anymore.”

“Yeah, okay,” you mutter. There’s something wet in your eyes and your throat tightens up. “That’s fine.”

You leave silently and you cry in the woods.

—-

When you finally make your way back to your cabin at nightfall, everyone is fussing around you. Your hair’s messy, mascara streams down your face, your shirt is wet with tears.

“Where have you been?” one of your brothers asks, and the rest of your siblings echo the sentiment.

Tyla doesn’t say anything when she sees you. She just wraps her arms around you. Jackie stands just behind her, eyes locking with yours. She knows. She doesn’t move. She can see it on your face, she can see it in your eyes.

Aphrodite children are predisposed to fall in love fast and hard. You’ve all gathered around your siblings time and time again when their hearts inevitably got broken.

No one wants to date an Aphrodite kid. Not really.

They all think you’re vain and self-centered. They all think you’re weak and useless.

When it comes down to it, that’s what you are.

How can you claim to wield the power of love when it brings you to your knees too?

You thought Clarisse was hot. You thought you could leave it at that. You thought you could pretend, you thought you could ignore it.

But the more you think about it, the more tears fall down your face, the more you realize you were ignoring the wrong thing. You spent so much time trying not to want Clarisse you forgot that she doesn’t even want you. It stings, like a knife in the chest, it hurts to know you’re making it all up.

But it was always pretend. It was always fake. That’s what fake dating is. The Aphrodite side of you just forgot that you couldn’t find comfort in her arms, you couldn’t memorize the feel of her skin, you couldn’t hear the sound of her heartbeat and pretended it beat for you.

You look up at the sky and you want to curse your mother. You want to know why she has abandoned you. But in your heart, you know she hasn’t abandoned you. The Goddess of Love is right next to you, and this is what it feels like.

Knives in your heart. Memories of heartbeats, memories of skin, memories of soft voices and secrets and the feeling that something was yours, something was quiet and shared.

“Y/N,” Jackie breathes.

The words hurt. You say them anyways.

“I fucked up,” you sob. “I fucked up, Jackie. She doesn’t- she won’t, she never will-”

“Y/N,” Tyla coos.

“I fell in love. I fell in love, and it’s over.”

—-

You give up on wearing makeup. The sadness still seeps through your face, and you end up crying most of it off anyways. A few of your hoodies are just permanently stained with mascara with how much you cried. The tears stream down your face and carry the little black specks with it.

You try to visualize everything you feel leaving with the black specks. The love, the anger, the sadness, the regret. But it doesn’t leave, and you’re too tired of trying to hide from it.

Everyone thinks you miserably broke up, and it’s mortifying to know that Clarisse knows you’re like this, she knows you’re absolutely ruined over this- and it was never even real.

You keep telling yourself that. It was fake. It was never real.

But it feels real, the memories feel real. You know they happened, you know Clarisse touched you so often it’s like you’re burned with it. You say she had to have felt it to, because the more you remember the more you remember the electricity, the charge in the air.

But you might just be making that up.

Lunch is the worst time. She’s always so happy at lunch, her and her table laughing loudly. She mentioned to you once, one of those fake star-studded dates in the woods, that she’s always to tired by dinner time because she trains so hard for most of the day.

You stare at her when no one’s looking, and everyone can see you better in the bright light of day- and you can’t look away.

Tyla mumbles that they’re gonna get up to make their offerings, she doesn’t ask if you’re gonna come. You’re probably not even going to eat more than a few bites again.

You’re alone at the stone table.

Xavier sees that as an opportunity.

Love spells are best to break on a full moon. You thought it would go on longer than this, and he’s only become more emboldened by what everyone sees as a breakup.

He sits down next to you, smiling sadly. You prop your head up in your hand.

“Y/N, you sad angel.” His hand grazes your shoulder, you can’t be bothered to tell him to stop. He places a flower in front of you. “To cheer you up.”

“Thanks, Xavier,” you mutter. He stares at you for a moment longer. Jackie comes back, slamming her tray down onto the table.

“Go away, Xavier,” she says, the same thing she says every day. Jackie has this look in her eyes that lets you know she’s ready to jump on you if she has to.

You think he would stop trying, but he can’t. He can’t because of this stupid love spell that ruined everything. And you can’t even take it off of him, not until the full moon.

You wouldn’t feel like this if it wasn’t for that love spell.

—-

There is one a day a year that Chiron turns a blind eye to parties. The summer solstice all of the cabin leaders come together to throw a huge party, mostly centered around the bonfire, food and drinks and even music. It’s the one night a year where you’re allowed to be teenagers, and it’s not taken lightly.

It even makes you feel a little excited.

“So what if all that shit happened?” Tyla asked. “We’re gonna make sure you look as hell at this party, and then you’re gonna go find someone and make out with them in a dark corner. Don’t even look who it is. Just grab the first random person and kiss them.”

“Okay, well, I’m not doing that, but I will do something of the sort. There is definitively some making out on my list tonight.”

“Oh, as long as it’s not with Xavier,” Tyla frets.

Jackie kicks her. “If Y/N makes out with Xavier, I will personally pay Chiron a million dollars to feed both of them to some horrible monster.”

“Supportive,” you muse.

Jackie gasps. “I forgot about this dress.”

“For which one of us?” Tyla asks.

Jackie turns around, holding up the back dress. It’s sparkly, a slit up the side, going just to your knees. It’s ruffled at the chest, thin spaghetti straps for the top. You can’t wear it. It’s too much, too revealing.

You look around the room.

Most of your siblings are wearing worse.

And you need to get your mind off her.

“I’m wearing that.”

Tyla squeals and Jackie lays it out on your bed.

You’ll forget about her tonight, you promise yourself.

—-

The bonfire burns high and bright, and even 20 feet away from it the feeling is burning. It’s so hot you’re glad you wore this barely there grass, it frees up your skin to touch the cool summer air.

You, Tyla and Jackie had gratefully taken a few too many sips of the alcohol someone had managed to sneak in and was now passing around.

Everything is so funny in the firelight.

Tyla’s tall heels keep sinking into the grass, and you keep giggling when your own do the same. You’re all holding onto each other, barely able to stand.

There was more nail polish fumes in the cabin than usual, and you’ll swear on your life that it gets to your head.

“Noooooo,” Tyla moans, sinking yet again into the grass. She gasps, pointing at the logs currently abandoned. “I’ll just walk on those!”

Your heels sink into the dirt.

“Me too,” you say, smiling as you grab Tyla’s hand and begin your ascent. Jackie ran off with an Apollo boy a minute ago, the first of your group to leave.

You grab onto each other, laughing boisterously as you keep almost falling.

“I-I can bare-barely stand!” you shout, giggling as you throw your arms to the sides.

“Me either!” Tyla shouts back. She jumps off, walking between the end of that one to the beginning of the next log.

“Hey, do you think I can jump and make it?”

Tyla judges the maybe 4 foot jump.

“I don’t know.”

“Well, I’m gonna try,” you giggle. “I’m gonna jump!”

“Whoooo!” Tyla shouts, laughing too. This entire night is just about you and your friends and laughter. She starts clapping. “Y/N, Y/N, Y/N, Y/N,”

You jump, eyes screwed shut, slamming into something mid air and being brought to the ground.

“Wh-” you mumble, and Tyla let’s out a gasp.

“Are you trying to kill yourself?” Clarisse scolds, her hands quickly falling from your waist.

And, of course, the first instinct of your intoxicated brain is to start screaming.

Clarisse grabs your arm and drags you off, past the light of the fire and into a space between the cabins. She slaps her hand over your mouth and you shut up.

“Are you going to stop being such a baby now?”

She lets go of your face and you immediately stumble forward so she has to catch you, pressing your finger into her chest.

“You, demon, are not my mother! So, I don’t know what you’re doing.”

She laughs, holding you up.

“Oh, you’re drunk.”

“Tipsy,” you correct. “As I was saying, don’t you remember, Clarisse, we will never be something to each other.” You push her away from you, heels sinking into the ground and keeping you upright.

Her face falls.

It’s so dark in here but you’re so close to her you can tell.

“Y/N, I-”

You can’t listen to her talk so softly. Being away from the heat of the fire clears up your brain.

“Where’s Tyla?” her hands fall from your hips. “Tyla?!” you dig you heels out of the mud, finding her sitting on the log, talking animatedly to Matty about something. “Oh,” you mumble.

They’re both so absorbed in each other they don’t hear you. And suddenly, you’re the last one left.

You head to a nearby table and chug a bottle of water, shoving a cupcake into your mouth.

“I’m not gonna be alone tonight,” you mumble to yourself. You look up at the almost full moon. You eyes scan the crowd. Xavier isn’t exactly bad looking, and you just need someone tonight. You need anything.

You don’t know where Clarisse is. You tell yourself you don’t care.

You move through the crowd, adjusting your hair, breathing in and out. You won’t be alone tonight. You won’t.

You spot him sitting off to the side with his friends, the group of them sharing a bottle just like you did.

“Xavier!” you shout. His eyes turn to you immediately. He shoves the bottle into his friends hands, standing up and walking over to you like it was his entire purpose to.

“Y/N,” he eyes you up and down. “You look- you look fucking hot.”

“Thank you. Now, dance with me.”

He follows you, his arm gripped in your hand, you can feel him staring at your ass and you don’t care, dragging him towards the music, towards the dance floor.

His hand is all over your ass, your thigh, your hips, drawing you closer to him as you spin and his other winds it’s way around your face.

He’s not her. You can’t bring yourself to feel guilty about imagining her hands on you.

You put your arms around his neck, dancing in a way that would probably make your mother blush.

When you open your eyes, they’re locked with hers.

She seems to have made her way back to her friends, sitting on a log, leaning against her arm and staring at you. Her hands are clenched the same way they were that day. You can see her, you can see her perfectly and she can see you perfectly. She can see you and him.

Good.

You smile at her, waving the way you would have done to Xavier, except now the roles are reversed. He gets to have you, and she has to watch.

His mouth finds your neck. You laugh, throwing your head back, you don’t imagine her lips there. You just sink into the moment.

When your lips crash against his, there’s nothing except hot, hot desire. Like a blue flame, you’re all teeth and tongue, clashing together in a way that is purely carnal.

His hands are everywhere and you love it. It’s like a game, trying to guess where he’ll go next, and it keeps you so wonderfully distracted.

He tugs at the slit of your dress. You pull away for air.

“N-not here. Not yet.”

His greedy hand remains where it is until you shove it down, laughing lightly.

“Maybe later,” you whisper.

“You’re so beautiful,” he mumbles into your neck. “Just let me…” he spins you two around, his hand slips under your dress, against your bare ass.

“Xavier-” you push at his greedy hand again.

“So, so beautiful, like you’re a witch-”

He’s ripped away from you.

You watch in horror as Clarisse grabs him by the front of his shirt and punches him square in the face.

You start screaming obscenities at the top of your lungs.

Xavier only seems to find it funny.

“You fuckin’ jealous, Clarisse?” he laughs. “Fuckin’ jealous, wonder if he’d be proud of you now, beating up his own son for a daughter of Aphrodite?”

She punches him again. Again.

“Fuckin’ jealous?” he says again, laughing, spitting out blood. “Are you fucking jealous?”

One of her siblings finally grabs her and pulls her away. She shoves them off of her.

“I’ll kill you,” she whispers to him. He doesn’t seem scared at all. You stand there and watch, stupidly, feeling like a bird from the skies watching it all unfold, unable to do anything. “Stay away from her. Stay the fuck away from her.”

She looks at you, you faintly realize the music’s stopped.

“Clarisse-”

“She’s not yours!” Xavier laughs from the ground. “The weak Aphrodite girl doesn’t belong to you, that’s gotta sting, Clarisse-”

A love spell only change’s one’s emotions towards a person. Their personalities are the same. They way they behave under a love spell is the same way they’d behave in a regular relationship, except with a lasting relentlessness.

“Shut up, Xavier!” you shout. You’re so sick of him. Sick of his bullshit. He can’t even make out with you without thinking about the next step.

You see it fade from his eyes.

It shouldn’t be.

You watch in horror as the spell falls, you realize this all wasn’t supposed to happen. You were never supposed to actually kiss him.

“Witch,” he mumbles. He was just moaning that against your cheek a minute ago.

He holds his hands to his already red face.

“You’re a fucking witch.”

Everyone is looking at you, for once in your life, you hate it.

“It wasn’t supposed to be like this,” you whisper.

Your eyes meet Clarisse’s. You can’t tell what’s on her face. You walk away.

—-

She finds you under the stars. Of course she does. You didn’t know where else to go. Cabin too stuffy. The lake is too far. The only place left is the woods, the spots where you would go with her.

She stands behind you. You can hear her breathing.

“Do you need something?” you mutter.

“I was selfish,” she starts.

You snort. Clarisse La Rue is a lot of things, you’ll be here all night.

“And I was hurt. So I took it out on you, which I really, really regret. You didn’t deserve that and it wasn’t true.”

It wasn’t true.

“Um, I was scared. So I made a decision for the both of us. But I’m not scared anymore.”

You place your hand on the grass next to you.

She sits, you don’t look at each other.

“That was all I had planned, but more has happened, so… uh, I was watching you the entire night, I guess. Not in a creepy way. I mean, you look, that dress… I couldn’t take my eyes away. Then you almost killed yourself on the logs.”

You smile.

“And I touched you again and I just, it was so much. Then you were on the dance floor, and he was all over you and- I was jealous. I was so jealous, like, I was actually about to go insane. And I saw you push his hand away, I saw him do it again, and I…”

“Went insane, berserk, crazy? Lost all proprietary?”

“Yeah,” she murmurs. “All of that. I’m not gonna apologize for punching the shit out of him. But I am sorry for the things I said.”

“Did you mean it?”

She just seems grateful you’re talking to her.

“Mean what?”

“That it wasn’t true.”

“It wasn’t true.”

You finally look at her. It feels so good to let go. To finally look at her, finally see her.

“I-I was just angry, and I-”

You’re sick of hearing her talk.

It’s nothing like the kiss with Xavier.

Its slow and sweet, heady like syrup, and you feel like you’re sinking beneath the current of some river. Your hands are on her face, she rests hers on your neck.

The kiss was Xavier was pure passion, no love, just bodies and bodies and no thoughts between them. This is all care, this is all slowness, this is all appreciation. It’s faces and faces, singular focus, one intent.

You pull away.

“I was so jealous,” she breathes, like it’s an explanation for the way she grabs you closer, harder, more, kissing you like Xavier did except it’s all erased. You can’t even remember what it feels like for someone else to touch you, let alone kiss you.

It just feels like her. It all feels like her, before her and after her.

When she finally starts to kiss down your neck, it’s so slow again, it’s like she can’t believe you’re in her arms, it’s like she can’t believe she’s got your hands on you. You grab her shoulders, you have her.

You look up towards the sky. Sorry I ever doubted you. Thanks, Mom.

You could see her across from you, you could see her on the dance floor, but now you can see her.

—-

y/n, talking to matty: yes i’m like about to slay amokinesis in a way it has never been slayed before

clarisse, who is NOT catching feelings: what the hell is this bitch doing to my girl

clarisse: ykw… im just gonna…. take her back thank you oh wdym no he’s looking we gotta fake date obvi (clarisse does not care if he’s looking)

—-

y/n, about to fucking die: i’m a bird! i’m jumping!

clarisse: no the fuck you’re not!

—-

clarisse when y/n is dancing in THE DRESS: oh i’m bricked up

—-

clarisse: if this bitch doesn’t get OFF my girl i’m gonna KILL SOMEONE

literally everyone: YOUR girl????

clarisse: nvm i’m just gonna fight him

everyone: not a logical solution???

—-

shoutout to jackie, tyla, and matty the loves of my life COULD NOT DO THIS WITHOUT THEM

also the tyla and matty agenda WILL be pushed

—-

taglist:

@lvrue @t-wylia @laughingcheese037 @kroumi @urdeadpoet @colezb @rey26 @harmzilla @elliewilliamsbae @amberfreemansburntface @kyuupidwrites @neverwaakeme-up @shark1008 @liballer @heyimadison