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mrs-han · 1 year

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Happy early birthday! Can you do the fake dating trope? For Jumin, definitely🥰

✨✨SISSI!!!✨✨

OUU, I LOVE THIS TROPE. I was too shy to write it cuz there are so many BRILLIANT renditions, but I’ll try!!

(I’m totally still working on your first ask, too >w<)

“Your mother is coming to visit?

Furiously rubbing his temples, Jumin grunted an affirmation. You had never seen him in such a state; it was very… un-Jumin-like of him to show an ounce of anxiety.

“She sent this. You can read it, if you like.” Sliding a thick paper your way, you pushed your hair back and started reading.

Jumin couldn’t help but smirk at your expressions — how they went from curious, to skeptical, to horrified.

“Jumin, she… she’s terminally ill…?”

“… It seems so.”

The nonchalant tone in his voice sparked something in you. Forcing the letter down, you pressed both palms against his mahogany desk. “How could you be so uncaring? This is your mother, not some stranger from off the street, Jumin.”

Jumin stared at you. Something inexplainable in his eyes — a flash of unknown darkness — made you stand down.

“Is it so important to you that I meet with her?” Jumin asked, drumming his fingers anxiously against the letter.

“… Well…” you clasped his hand, stilling his jittery movements. “As your friend? Yes. You do for family.”

His long lashes covered the conflicting look in his eyes. “All right. I’ll do it.”

You moved to release his hand, surprised he allowed you to hold onto him for this long. But you remembered something — something you had skimmed over previously. Snatching the letter, you began to read it again.

“No, I’m not engaged to anyone from the Christopher family.”

“… Okay, how did you know I was looking for that.”

“You are incredibly easy to read,” Jumin sighed. “Your eyes speak before your mouth moves.”

“… Nu-uh,” you murmured under your breath.

Pressing his tense back against the chair, Jumin closed his eyes. “I had forgotten who that family was until today. I certainly didn’t know I was engaged to any of them.”

Your eyes grew. “Did your mother arrange it when you were little?”

“She did so many things,” Jumin replied, his voice an octave above a whisper. “I originally had plans to get out of meeting with her, but.” His intense gaze in your direction nearly made you blush.

“Oh, come on. How bad could it be, Jumin?”

“You don’t know my mother the way I do.” Long fingers began fiddling with his tie pin. “Do you remember, when we met, you expressed that I was a hard-ass, or a tough, demanding, and uncompromising person according to Merriam-Webster’s Dictionary?”

“… Yeah?”

“She is 1⁄1,000,000 times worse.”

Your eyes darted.

“She is worse.” Despite the situation, Jumin couldn’t help but notice how often he was grinning.

Specifically in your direction.

“Yikes,” you whistled, resting your chin in your hand.

Silence lingered… until you slammed your hand against the desk. “I have an idea.”

Eyes glancing from the table to your hand, Jumin suppressed another laugh upon noticing you were barely holding in your discomfort. “Yes, well?”

“Stay with me, here. What if I pretended to be your fiancée? That way, your mom won’t pressure you into marrying that Christopher chick!”

Jumin’s head rose slowly, steel-gray eyes trained on you the entire time. His face was illegible… it always was. Your nerves kicked in, but you proceeded confidently.

“There’s no harm in it! I’ll dress up, drape myself over your arm, make a nice show of it, and that’ll be —”

“No.”

You deflated. “… But I wasn’t done.”

“No.” Standing quickly, Jumin stepped down from his desk and moved to fetch a hidden bottle of whiskey.

Your cheeks flushed and your heart hammered recklessly in your chest — had Jumin just rejected you? Granted, the situation was a hypothetical one, but still…

Your feet remained planted on the floor; you felt ashamed to move, wanting the tile to open up and eat you alive. You inhaled “I mean, I know I’m not heiress material, but… I was just trying to help, I guess.”

Jumin set his glass down. “Wait, that’s not what I meant at all.” Nearly tripping over his loafers, Jumin rushed to your side, gripping your chin “Listen to me. My mother is a ruthless woman. Very cruel. She will go out of her way to insult you, even if all that is left of you is a coffin in the ground. I can’t expose such a person to you.”

You took a deep, calming breath. So that’s what it was. “Jumin, I’m grown. Besides, you’ll be with me, so it’s not like I’m gonna be left alone with her!”

Fingers pressing into your cheeks a little too much, Jumin’s eyes searched yours. “Why would you do this for me?”

With puckered lips, you answered as best you could. “Cu-th yerr mah fwen.”

Releasing you, Jumin dug for his handkerchief and blotted the spit on your lip. “That’s right. We are friends, aren’t we.”

“And since I consider the RFA to be family, you’re family too! And you do for family!”

Jumin raised his brows, unenthused. “… Great. Then. I’ll have clothes sent to your apartment for you to try. Feel free to express your opinions freely to me tonight, as I’ll be picking you up for a session on tea.”

“Oh, because your family loves brewing tea, right?”

“Correct. How comfortable do you feel in stilettos?”

“… Uh…”

“No harm in trying them, then.” As Jumin tapped delivery instructions onto his keypad at a furious pace, you reached for a chocolate candy from a tiny bowl on his desk, unwrapped it, and popped it into your mouth.

You did not expect for Jumin to grab your hand with a touch more tender than the cut of beef you ate the night of the party. “Mm — Jumin!?”

He lowered his head, warm lips pressing a kiss onto the back of your hand. You were in too much shock to register that he had placed another kiss on your knuckles.

You were still in a state of shock, the chocolate dangling on your tongue as Jumin leaned in, his chest barely touching your own as he swept your hair back with deft fingers.

The same lips that that had kissed your hand were now pressed against your ear; Jumin exhaled, the very sound frightening and exciting you. “Then. I’ll see you later, my dear.”

You had no time to react; Jumin pulled away just as quickly as he had moved in, throwing his jacket on and leaving the office.

You shoved more chocolates into your mouth and prepped yourself to follow suit. If this was what it was like being engaged to Jumin, then… well… there was no harm in liking it a little.

OKIE, imma have to break this down into parts cuz the idea I have is pretty substantial. I don’t want Tumblr to yell at me like HRRBLRR, LIMIT REACHED.

Hope you liked dis first part!! and omg I swear I will continue writing this. I suck at writing parts, but imma DO DIS.

#mystic messenger #jumin han #mein schatz #jumin x reader #jumin x mc #the birthday of a nugget #AND OKAY THIS SOOONNNGGG #SO LIKE #I HAD BEEN SEARCHING FOR IT FOR YEARS #BUT I COULDNT REMEMBER THE ARTIST #THIS WAS ONE OF THE SONGS I LOOPED ENDLESSLY WHEN I WAS A TEEN #definitely brings back memories of airports and home ♥️#BUT IM SO HAPPY I FOUND IT AND CAN SHARE IT WITH YOU GUYS #also I fell asleep halfway so if there are any bloops #mah bad >w<

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ereborne · 5 months

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Song of the Day: December 6

"Your Body Is A Weapon" by the Wombats

#song of the day #'someone protect me from the one I love' looping in my head #this is another fun song to sing. who comes up with lines like 'my body is a temple of doom / doomed not to be / by your side'#I have to admit also for all that some of my favorite people are very guitar people I do not have an ear for it #so the Wombats like Greta Van Fleet and a couple others sound like older bands to me. very very surprised to find this song is from 2015 #I mentioned the other day that I usually have an origin story for most of the songs I know because mostly I get them from specific places #recommendations and curated playlists and such #and partially that really helps my memory for songs! they all come with strong associations! self-creating mnemonics!#but also it really skews my perception of when songs are from and how popular they are #the other day I played a song for Nick that I thought he'd like #and I did tell him that I thought it was probably a cover because a lot of the other songs on the playlist were #and he looked at me like I was truly stupid and he said 'it's definitely a cover. because that is a Taylor Swift song'#and I was genuinely just like neat! good to know!#I did listen to the original and I do think I like the cover better but my taste is so specific and scattered that it means nothing #I also apparently heard Sleep Token's new album right as it came out in a way that impressed Nick by like #how cutting-edge my metal knowledge was I guess. hipster-style immediate knowledge of the new release. before it was cool etc #and I had to be like nah bro it was a fic title I googled I get no credit for this. also I didn't know the band existed before this album #there's no way I was looking for the new release. the song the album and the band all just came into being before me simultaneously #this ramble is really long now and I feel like y'all get the point #the Wombats are cool though

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death-and-the-codein-scene · 5 months

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Girl who’s stuck in a time loop but doesn’t want to leave because she’s mastered 4 new languages and many new crafts and is having the time of her life just being able to relax without the pressure of modern society. One day she decides to hang out with her friends because it’s been a quite few loops since shes hung out them only to find out she’s now unrecognizable to them and think she’s pulling a bit. Now she has to decide between leaving the comfort and security of the time loop where she can’t have any more meaningful relationships or leaving the loop and having to start over because she can’t possible continue as things were

#I would fuck in a time loop #I would absolutely love it for a bit #but then ultimately I would become a completely different person and I would have to start over #and there is a very good chance I know way too much about my friends that they don’t remember telling me #so they wouldn’t remember any bonding moments we had in the loop #god I love the implications of time loops #story about the aftermath of a time loop that’s a tragedy #cuz in Groundhog Day it makes sense that when he goes back things are better because he was an asshole to begin with #but just like some guy gets stuck in a loop and eventually gets out #yes he’s definitely a better person now but the girl he pursues and now knows everything about #has to try and live up to all these memories of her where they had bonding moments #all those key moments where she gets comfortable enough to tell him something is set off by the fact he knows already #and she Knows he’s not a stalker she knows about the time loop #but it’s just every moment in their relationship feels wrong to her #like if I was that girl I’d have to break up with that guy simply because the relationship was actually built on remnants of moments that #never happened to me #and if I someone stuck in the loop I’d seriously consider staying simply because I would not want to start over with my life #I’d have to quit my job and probably find new friends #don’t get me wrong I wouldn’t hold it against my old friends but it’s like getting different friends in collage because you don’t have #much in common with your highschool friends. no hard feelings just people change #hell i probably finished my degree while I was in the loops and studied other stuff too #now I gotta go through it all again because I would need the official credentials to get the job I would want #like the girl in Palm Springs is an expert in quantum mechanics #but has absolutely no credibility past the loop to show people #also I’d have a hard time explaining to everyone how I became an expert musician overnight #HAHAHAHAH #the time loop movie I’m watching right now basically has a right of passage for each family member to get stuck in a loop #they don’t tell anyone about though lmaooo

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mercyisms · 2 years

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If you don't find harrow as interesting to discuss as the other characters I totally understand, but I have been dying to find meta from people much smarter than me about the paragraph from Crux in NtN: "Lady,..you've gone away again, my lady; where have you run?...Who are you this time, if not my Lady Harrowhark?" (pg 459, hardcover) Have you seen any? I'm surprised I haven't seen it mentioned more, but the NtN has a ton to talk about so

oh! well, i certainly do find harrow, gideon, ianthe, and so on very interesting. i just happen to have a specific illness that makes me very sure i remember almost everything mercymorn and augustine & co have said, and much easier to discuss. that is a fascinating little moment! it strikes me as something that is hard to write meta about, per se, because it refers to something concrete that the author clearly knows but hasn't quite surfaced in the realm of the novel. it's harder to analyze, though potent for speculation! depending on how much you trust crux and his read of harrow's childhood, it certainly suggests a pattern of dissociation or hiding. (again, not enough there for me to call it evidence, but it feels in line with, say, discussions of harrow as a person with schizophrenia? i've seen some thoughtful pieces on that before, though i'm not able to link to any off the top of my head.) it's a brief window into harrow's childhood that harrow herself may not be able to recognize and gideon, in gtn, certainly would not have been privy to. crux's rhetoric, though superficially soothing, is also, perhaps, a way of seeing the different ways harrow came to understand her profound duty to the ninth. i think what i feel certain about re: that moment is it very clearly sets up context for crux's interactions with gideon/kiriona, which strike me as the primary dramatic purpose for crux's return. the comparison between moment of (as best as he can manage anyway/undeniably twisted) tenderness and reaffirmation and the way crux treats paul (crotchety/resentful to outsiders) and gideon (undeterred, spiteful hatred) remind us a) the initial dynamics gideon/harrow were steeped in (and possibly how far they have or haven't come?) and b) how lmao deeply vile and personal crux's hatred for gideon is. it's that "why doesn't it feel good" that is, within nona, still the showstopper for me. (crux being a mutation of a father figure is important there, for sure.) if there was something more you had on your mind, i'd love to hear it! but considering those paragraphs without any further context... to me, they're wonderful bits of colour, but not necessarily enough on their own to suggest much. possibly there will be more to them in alecto -- also possibly it refers to something that will never make the narrative!? however, if people have cool thoughts please link them in he replies.

#thank you for the ask anon i'm v touched but very sorry i'm not more useful #asks #i'll be very honest i check a very limited number of blogs for cool thoughts so i'm not always up to date #though i love see what the people think #really very possible this could link up to something in htn that i erased from my memory while looping augustine spitting teeth into #his little sink again and again and again #i think what is definite is mostly kiriona pushing deeper and deeper into the ninth and reconnecting with how deeply hostile it is #& that being fuel for her to believe more fully in the narrative john has spun for her #it's also a moment for the narrative to try and give us not an objective but an outsider's perspective #we see aiglemene's fondness for gideon and loyalty to gideon (and notably Not towards harrow) much more clearly through nona's eyes #sorry if this is just fully renarrating the text for you #something something also mb about how per tamsyn there are two 'found family' (critical) narratives in nona (john + disciples /#nona / pyrrha / campal) but something possibly dramatically there to bringing them back to the initial 'found family' (awful) of the ninth #there is a parallel #uhh okay that is all i've got here #it's a fascinating line! but as i said i'm not sure it's anything we can crack here but perhaps someone else has more robust thoughts!!#ntn spoilers

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ihatethishellwebsite · 1 year

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Thinking about... Aberdeen Zalinki cover again...

Bro really uploaded one of the most beautifully painful songs I have ever heard in my fucking life and then wiped it off the face of the earth without warning, I only have it downloaded bc I was gonna use it in a speedpaint and then HOURS after I downloaded it he took it down like holy shit

#I have this like #specific memory of having listened to this song one time and then saving it for later bc it's a song I knew would inspire me #and then the next day at work I at somepoint became incredibly stressed and started to have a mental spiral #like I very narrowly avoided brain turning into jelly in the middle of my shift #and during this the part where he yells aberdeen in a drawn out scream just.#looped and spiraled and contorted and twisted in my head #for that entire time I was borderline having a breakdown #Zalinki's music got me through a lot of that summer and I have a lot of emotions tied to his work #but man that specific instance was definitely one of the more surreal things I've experienced #like wow my mental state sure was collapsing what the fuck was that #I'm fine now tho that job just kinda sucked

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trashbaget · 9 months

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yknow, i used to have purpose all nighters down to a science and i dno if that makes me feel better or worse that i don’t know where i was going with this post but anyway—

#gonna have some nibbles in my office (bathroom) and maybe watch a silly video while i recaffeinate #shout out to memory by kane brown and blackbear #shoutout to i drive me maf by renforshort #shoutout to the goofy gay cowboy song aka good lookin by dixon dallas #these are on loop definitely probably driving the upsteighbor at least a little bonkers if she actually can hear it

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universalsatan · 1 year

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sometimes i forget how distinctly american my mother is, and how we are generally a product of our surroundings

#personal #just found out she’s pro-military!!! and she was accusing me of being anti-military because of watching x files. like girl i am 10 episodes #into this show. i have had these views for a Long time (VERY specifically about the us military). and im just like. damn. like yeah of COURS #it’s not plastered everywhere. ‘give me some peer reviewed articles’ i would but i just cant bring myself to get the energy to get stuck in #this exhausting npd abuse loop again (sounds exaggerated but im basically falling for exacerbating the situation. which is why it’s always #hit me the hardest i guess. because she Will just straight up either not mention it ever again or just simply deny it. and i’m not exactly #educated enough on the subject to remember specific points. my memory has been destroyed BECAUSE of this kinda shit and i cant recall decent #argument points anymore. not that i even particularly want to!!! read up on all this shit!!!! oh and even realizing that she was Definitely #seeing me as an Extreme. like girl what. i forgot that npd does that #reminds me of how. she’s very liberal. she was the one who got me out of the closet in the first place (bc i wouldnt do so myself)#and yet the other day. i swear she said something that was almost terf rhetoric #FUCK i HATE that my memory has already scrambled it. fuuuuuck and here i thought my memory was coming back #but it was something along the lines of implying that men Would try to get into women’s shelters etc in a skirt or smth and i #i just stopped talking i was so shocked #god. sorry didnt mean to vent lmao but im. hhh im just Tired yknow?#mandont

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1-800-scaryphone · 1 year

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since d.ialtown is my ultra hyperfixation, my brain is finding ways to attach it to other interests (atm, q.uantum l.eap) and make aus and i...am thinking so bad...

#🎬 || ᵗᶤᵐᵉ ᶠᵒʳ ᵇᵉᵃʳˑ (ooc.) || 🎬#{ rn my brain is between norm being the one leaping and norm being the al of the situation bc- }#{ -on one hand you have the perpetual loop. doomed to never reunite with your loved ones. doomed to never go back home. }#{ but on the other i feel like the entire gist of his mission is more along the lines of how gingi helps literally EVERYONE throughout- }#{ -d.ialtown. so its like... }#{ HM ACTUALLY OH FUCK }#{ callum maybe... he could have developed q.uantum l.eap for an entirely different (definitely selfish( purpose but now- }#{ -hes kinda playin p.honegingi AND himself in that 1) he has no memories and 2) he's helping people. slowly learning to- }#{ - be more empathetic. to CARE. }#{ norm just oversees and tries his damnedest to see that callum's hard work doesn't fail }#{ god theres also the potential of norm being the one meant to leap in the first place but callum got impatient and didnt want funding- }#{ -to get pulled so he rushed ahead before everything was done HH }#{ so norm sitting on the sidelines watching callum stuck in this loop and unable to remember his own last name- }#{ let alone who norm himself is?? fuckin OUCH }#{ wow and my brain started on this tangent bc al acted like a dad in ONE episode and my brain went ;_; norm vibes... }

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jontheredrc · 3 months

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#r-type #r type #irem #shmup #snes #super r-type #1991 #super nintendo #video game music #one thing that always stuck out to me with this track--even when I was a little kid playing this--is that the stage ends at about 1 m 40 s #as notorious as this game is for slowdown there's no way you'll hear the solo and all (idk if kid me ever thought of trying the sound test)#and as cool as the solo is...there's definitely a sense of foreboding as all the horns and all the bravado fall away before the boss appear #and one thing I'm realizing just now is how well it flows from there into the boss theme which has similar/same tempo #idk if it was ever intentional but it definitely had a huge impact and more than it would have if it had simply looped #so if you ever wonder ''what is it with jon and slap bass?'' the answer is that this is a like formative memory #stage 4's bgm is coded so it loops a short bit at the very end also forming a slap bass outro before the boss but kid me never got that far

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autumnday19 · 2 years

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LATE LAST NIGHT WHEN WE WERE ALL IN BED

OLD LADY LEARY LIT A LANTERN IN THE SHED

AND WHEN THE COW KICKED IT OVER--WHACK!--SHE WINKED HER EYE AND SAID

“IT’LL BE A HOT TIME IN THE OLD TOWN TONIGHT”

FIRE FIRE FIRE FIRE!

#screaming into the void #got campfire songs stuck in my head #we'd sing this one on loop progressively getting louder and louder #until our voices cracked and we physically couldn't get any louder #ah memories <3 #the people who lived near the campsite definitely hated us <3

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love-that-we-were-in · 1 month

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lighting the fuse might result in a bang

pairing: frat!luke castellan x reader summary: Silena thinks you need to start blowing off some steam. You think you just need a fresh victory and Luke Castellan is the perfect opponent. word count: 5.3k warnings: smoking, drinking, usual college party stuff.

author's note: brought to you by my personal deep dark history with boys in hats. also i haven't gotten drunk in like 4/5 years so i don't remember what it's like so this was interesting. also i don't know anything about frats OR smoking. have the most fun <3

When Silena mentions a party you could go to, you jump at the offer, brain fuzzing at the edges where you’ve been locked in on flashcards all afternoon. It’s something you’ve started to navigate better this year, remembering to have fun after a year of non-stop focus. Silena makes it easier - a social butterfly with no qualms about dragging you out of the library when she thinks you’re pushing yourself too hard - and there’s no harm in listening to her without protest sometimes.

“Do you even know who’s throwing this one?” You ask as she’s leading you through campus, rubbing at your arms to fight the fall chill. “I do not want a repeat of March.”

“Have some faith in me. I’ve started vetting my sources.”

Both of you shiver, the memory of a night spent outside the Stolls’ cramped dorm still haunting you six months later. You’re not overly familiar with this side of campus, turning away from the usual halls and towards the sorority housing, but Silena walks the path with ease, arm looped through yours.

The walk seems to have cleared your head, the music as you approach shaking off the last of the static. You’ve been here before, borrowing notes from a teammate, but it’s different like this, all pumping bass and cheers from the kitchen. Clarisse waves at you from across the room, beer in hand, and you mutter to Silena that you’re going to grab a drink. She nods, making a beeline for Drew Tanaka. You assume that’s who the invitation came from originally.

There’s a different energy to the kitchen, not quieter by any means but less noisy. Less concentrated, maybe, with twenty different conversations happening at once and nothing you have to pay attention to. Most people you don’t recognise, a group from your first year stats class huddled together near the sink, and the Stolls off to the side pointing at every new person they see.

Mixing your drink is an easy fix, the kitchen island covered in more choices than you’ve seen in a while, and you savor the first few sips. Between class and swimming, you’ve barely drank since the semester began and the burn of vodka isn’t as numbed as you wish it was. Still, a drink is a drink so you refill it before returning to the thick of the party.

Clarisse takes it upon herself to drag you away from the conversation you end up trapped in with Lee Fletcher, quite literally taking hold of your elbow. You mutter an apology, however disingenuous, rolling your eyes in mock exasperation as he smiles grimly.

“I have no idea how you talk to that lot,” she says when you’re far enough away. “They’re all boring.”

“Lee’s great. He always lends me notes from the lectures I miss.”

She laughs, pushing you into another room. “He’s trying to swindle a date out of you and you’re using him for lecture notes.”

You shrug. There’s nothing wrong with Lee, except that Clarisse is a little right when she says most of your classmates are boring. It’s probably not intentional, and they definitely don’t realize it, but there’s this way they carry themselves around campus - half-nervous and half-haughty. It’s not a great combination and it’s why you gravitate towards the people Silena meets.

“We were wondering when we were going to see you next,” Chris says as he throws an arm over Clarisse’s shoulder. You still don’t quite know the story there, how Chris Rodriguez managed to sweet talk your stoic teammate. One day, you’ll find out - a drunken vow you made with Silena on your dorm room floor when Clarisse mentioned a boyfriend - but you’re content to let them enjoy their romance in peace for now. “Almost thought you’d succumbed to the dark side.”

“You’re not getting rid of me yet.”

“And thank god,” he knocks his cup against yours before gesturing to the far corner of the room. “Because we need someone to kick Castellan’s ass at beer pong.”

“Whose?”

Turns out, Luke Castellan is the newest brother to ksig. There’s not much to know about Chris’ fraternity in your eyes, just the basics of all frats, and you know from last year that there’s always bound to be a hotshot that needs someone to pump the brakes on their ego. Usually, they’re on the younger side, with more money than sense and they don’t expect anything from your approach. Luke Castellan isn’t quite that, but he’s not far from it either.

While Chris talks to the boy who was about to play, you take the opportunity to size up your opponent. It comes naturally, a part of constantly competing, and it comes in handy in moments like this, when the element of surprise is a key factor to the situation going ahead.

Fitted jeans, branded polo and a stupid snapback cap worn backwards to show how cool he is. Nothing you haven’t seen before, really, except there’s this focused glint in his eyes with each plastic ball he throws like he has to prove his worth here. It’s a simple practice, unnecessary for a silly party game, but there’s this serious set to strong shoulders that you’re curious about.

The same way you want to know about Clarisse’s relationship, you want to know what makes Luke Castellan, whoever he is, tick.

“Are you trying to get alcohol poisoning, Rodriguez?”

“I’m not playing you, Luke,” Chris says and you watch closely as the other boy tilts his head slightly to the left. “I just had to go and get the current undefeated champion on campus.”

There’s this moment that happens every time you play - those awkward seconds where everyone looks completely past you to anyone else, anyone more noticeable. You count on it, occasionally, so it takes you a moment to process the way Luke’s gaze slides to you, drinks you in before he nods towards the other end of the table.

Chris mutters a quiet “you got this,” as you brush past him, handing him your drink. You’re not delusional enough to think you can get away with mixing your drinks this early in the game.

It takes two of Luke’s shots for you to land your first, his last hour of playing an advantage you accounted for. He’s not getting sloppy, not in the slightest, but he’s at the point where he’s a little worse for wear - a tired arm and hazy mind - and you take the chance you have at a false sense of security, taking your losses on the chin before playing the game to win.

Within seven shots between you, you can see Luke start to get restless. How he reevaluates the table in front of him, his three empty cups to your four. Part of you really wants to knock that hat off his head, as if it’ll give you more of an insight into his mind. Instead, you wait for what you know is coming, a slight miscalculation that has the plastic ball rolling off the table to land at someone’s feet.

Chris hands you a fresh one and you take in the way Luke swallows, jaw clenching as you line up your next shot. Whether he knows it or not, you’ve just been handed your win.

Clarisse cheers, handing you one of the cups from in front of you as everyone yells. You both chug what’s left of them, the bitter taste of cheap beer drowned out by victory, and as soon as that’s done, she throws herself back into Chris’ arms. Laughing, you turn around to find another drink, only to be met by Luke standing beside you.

“Are you about to be a sore loser?”

He chuckles and it’s different like this. His eyes are brown, which you didn’t know five minutes ago, and his hair is dark from the little wisps of it you can see peeking out underneath his hat. You consider telling him that the hat makes him look lame, but then he’s leaning down to whisper anyway. “I expect a rematch.”

It’s quiet and heavy and you wonder if anyone can tell that your blood feels like it’s on fire. It’s nothing, really, and it takes more effort than you want to respond.

“Then expect to lose.”

The only saving grace to the exchange is that Luke looks a whole lot more affected by it, a blush crawling up his neck as you take the drink nearest to you and leave to find your roommate once more.

Losing never used to get to you. Not like this, at least, where everything sort of feels like a precipice and you’re waiting for the next loss to fall on your shoulders alone. It was meant to be an easy game, a warm-up, for when the season started in earnest and you couldn’t afford to be incohesive. There’s always a learning curve, new starters and new competition, but in no world should it have caused this.

Silena tells you to let it go, throwing yet another outfit on her bed as she gets ready. When you saw her at lunch, Clarisse told you to just push harder during practice. Sometimes you’re not even sure how you can be friends with both of them, how they can be friends with each other either. Unfortunately, it becomes very clear when Clarisse knocks on the door that night.

“Why aren’t you ready?”

“I’m not going anywhere.”

She tuts at you, digging through the pile of clothing on Silena’s bed before throwing a dress at you. “Get dressed.”

“You can’t make me,” you protest, the black fabric scrunching in your fist. You’ve borrowed it before, for a party last year you don’t remember very well, and you don’t even want to consider why it’s the one Clarisse selected. You turn to your roommate, looking for backup, only to find her with a pair of your shoes in her hands. “Are you seriously going to make me?”

In unison, they raise a singular eyebrow each and it’s unsettling enough that you let go of all will to fight them. Today may as well just be full of losses that you can mourn tomorrow.

It’s only when you arrive at the party that you realize you have no idea who’s throwing it. Or who’s going to be there. Distantly, you really hope it’s a stranger Silena met on her way around campus - full of people you’ve ever met and will never see again. You could find someone nice enough to blow off some steam with before going on your merry way.

When Clarisse yells at her boyfriend, you let out a huff as both he and Luke Castellan turn around.

Since your first meeting, you’ve learned a few more things about Luke. He’s from Connecticut. He was responsible for half of Drew’s sorority coming down with the flu during freshers week. He’s in pre-med. He’s the reason Professor Chase introduced a ban on energy drinks in his lectures (one hundred students simultaneously opening a can of Redbull each was, apparently, mildly disconcerting). Most importantly, he’s always wearing that stupid cap.

You try to equate the things you know with the Luke standing in front of you. Some of it makes perfect sense - Professor Chase and Connecticut - and some of it unsettles you, but it’s all true. Freshers and pre-med and track meets. Focusing on the distracted way he taps on his beer bottle instead of Clarisse greeting Chris, you kind of want to find out a whole lot more.

“Fancy a rematch?”

It’s the first thing he’s said to you all night, twisting the cap off a fresh beer before handing it to you. Then doing the same with his own. You pretend not to notice the movement of it, the few short seconds where you can get away with staring at the shine of silver rings in low light. Taking a sip, you crinkle your nose.

“I’m not really in the mood,” you mutter and, at the very least, the beer is cold and you chug half of it before you even notice you’ve done it. “Don’t you have someone else you can bother?”

There’s seconds before you notice it, how his eyes shift from slightly curious to intense. They don’t change much but standing in front of him, you can tell when they go from relaxed to focused. How his back straightens and shoulders roll back just so. You should go and find something stronger to drink. Maybe even see if Lee Fletcher is nearby.

You stay put.

“It’s just a bit of friendly competition,” Luke shrugs, unknowing of how it echoes in your skull. How that’s all today was ever meant to be. Leave it to him to dig the knife in again just as the tightness in your chest was starting to ease. “But I guess you just can’t handle it.”

“I’d kick your ass in a rematch. I’m doing you a favor.”

It’s obviously the wrong thing to say, Luke’s eyes brightening as the words push past your lips. The beer you drank way too fast is forming words before you even know what they are.

“You can always choose something else for me to beat you in,” he says, like it’s an offer, something gracious that you should be grateful for. “I’m easy.”

“How many beers have you had?”

“Three, I think?”

Silena would tell you it’s a stupid idea - you have a coaching session at 9am and you haven’t gotten drunk since the party where you met Luke - and she would be right. But you need a win tonight, something guaranteed, and there’s this itch that crawls under your skin the longer you stare at the boy in front of you.

So you say it anyway.

“I bet I could outdrink you.”

“I’d like to see you try.”

He waits as you down two more beers in quick succession, nursing his own as you do. A clink of your bottles against one another, followed by the final sip you each take and it’s finally a competition.

The night continues, you and Luke almost joined at the hip. It’s to keep track, you tell yourself, talking to a kid that might be in your organic chem class. If the kid looks at you weird for pouring two drinks, only to hand one to Luke in silence, that’s probably just the alcohol misreading things. Only once, when you’re deep in conversation with Lee does Luke pass you a beer, eyebrow raised when Lee gives him a glare. You think that might’ve been drink eight.

By the time Chris finds you both again, you’ve thrown yourselves onto the couch on the outskirts of the room. Someone’s abandoned coat is thrown over your legs in a mediocre attempt to preserve some dignity in the dress you’re wearing and Luke’s hat has twisted to the side. You’re sure neither of you has drunk a sip in ten minutes.

“You guys doing okay?”

“We’re drunk,” you say and you can’t tell if it’s a whisper or a shout. “I’m winning.”

“You’re not winning,” Luke turns his head to glare and you blame the alcohol on the attention you pay to the slope of his nose. “Neither of us have finished these drinks.”

“Are you going to?”

He glances down at the cup in his hand, half empty. You can see it, the hesitation, before he places it on the floor by his feet, shaking his head. “Are you?”

The nice thing to do would be to give up, call it a draw and appreciate that you managed to have fun despite the bad day that had preceded it. However, you like to win. So you grit your teeth before drinking the final three sips, tilting the empty cup towards him so he can see the proof. It takes you a second to remember you have to actually swallow in order to drink, but you do and Luke scrunches his nose. You kind of want to kiss it as a way to smooth the skin back out.

“That’s two wins to me, Castellan.”

Chris shakes his head at you both. “I’m not calling either of you to make sure you’re alive in the morning.”

It’s an almost unconscious action when you walk into Drew’s sorority house, how you wave Silena off in favor of scanning the crowd, searching for the one reason you agreed to show up in the first place. It takes a moment, pinks and blues and silvers all merging together in your eyeline until you spot him near the staircase, familiar black cap resting on his head.

You’re already a little buzzed, the thrill of your final project this semester finally being handed in just hours ago, and it’s why you let yourself actually look at Luke for once.

By this point, you’ve seen him in a polo and a flannel, always with jeans. Laidback. That’s what party Luke was. Tonight, though, it’s like he’s trying harder - baggy pants, like they’re resting a little too low on his hips, a white t-shirt, white trainers that you know are going to stain before the night ends and a slightly oversized leather jacket that doesn’t quite go with the hat you used to identify him. Maybe it’s something he does on purpose, ruining a good thing over comforting familiarity. Maybe you’ll ask him.

Luke looks up then, as if he has a sixth sense, and you kind of don’t know what to do with the slight wave he sends in your direction. You wouldn’t call him a friend, that’s for sure, but you nod in response before weaving through your classmates to the kitchen.

It takes two vodka cranberries for Silena to find you. And it takes four shots with people you’ve never met for Chris to ask if you’ve seen Luke anywhere. You tell him where you last saw him, maybe an hour ago, and he shakes his head like he’s already checked the entire house.

“Do you think you can let him know I’m heading out?” Chris asks, one arm looped around Clarisse’s waist, more for support than anything else. She was already unsteady when you arrived and you know by the flush in her cheeks that it’ll only take a couple more drinks for her to start throwing up. You nod at Chris, cradling your drink to your chest, and he mumbles a thanks while steering his girlfriend towards the door.

With both of them gone, it leaves you with little to do except go hunting for Luke. So that’s what you do, waving Lee off as he attempts to grab your attention from the couch.

Focusing is a lot harder now, squinting over everyone’s heads in search of that damn hat. Nothing. You know he’s not in the kitchen, that’s definite, and you learn that he’s not in the garden either, Katie from your anatomy class staring at you bewildered as you explain your quest.

There’s only one place left to check for Luke and you consider if it’ll be a worthwhile risk. It’s entirely possible that he’s already left, whoever he was locked in conversation with earlier with him maybe, and you’re searching an entire sorority house on the off-chance he’s still in the building.

But you promised Chris. More than that, you refuse to let Luke Castellan beat you.

So you commit to the staircase, pushing past the line for the restroom upstairs. It’s quieter up here, not by much, but you can hear yourself think clearer. There’s three doors on your left, all closed, and you drain the remnants of your drink so it warms your blood and erases the small part of your brain still protesting.

There’s two yells when you knock on the first door, both hurried and pitching higher as the words fade so you move on quickly. No one answers to the second door, so you crack it open enough to see inside. It’s dark and neat and completely untouched by whatever is happening below, so you let it click shut again.

Luke is in the third room, you learn, pressing it open when there’s no response to your knock. The room itself is still orderly, but you find the boy you’ve been searching for sitting on the floor at the base of the bed, hat turned to the side and the sleeves of his jacket bunching carelessly where they’ve been pushed higher on his forearms.

“Chris wanted me to tell you he took Clarisse home,” you blurt when it feels like you need to say something. “He couldn’t find you so…”

Luke waits. When it becomes clear that’s all you’re here for, he says, “Well, thanks for letting me know.”

You’ve done your job. You can go back and enjoy the party downstairs, maybe make use of the empty room next door instead of remaining awkwardly in the doorway.

You think about how Chris mentioned that Luke can recite pi to seventeen places while drunk. How you’re still beating him by two points. How there’s an ashtray on the floor beside Luke’s knee and it’s sort of considerate of him to use one when no one else would.

“Mind if I join you?”

Being in an empty bedroom with a guy at a party isn’t unusual. You’ve had your fair share of them, rushed and quiet and mostly on a bed. Sitting on the floor with Luke is different, you find, a gravity to it than you can’t quite wrap your head around after so many drinks. It’s slow and languid and you don’t really say much of anything as your knee bumps against his thigh in an effort to get comfortable in the space.

No one told you Luke smokes.

You tell him as much.

“It’s a bad habit,” he shakes his head, twisting a cigarette between his fingers and you both act like you’re not paying rapt attention to it. “I try to avoid making it one.”

“I used to. Back in high school. Gave it up when I got accepted here.”

He turns to face you then, head tilted so the visor of his slanted hat brushes his shoulder. “I would never have guessed you were a smoker.”

It’s not said with judgment, just as an observation from the limited interactions you’ve had since the semester began. The focus in Luke’s gaze crawls up your spine and mingles with the alcohol you’ve yet to flush from your system.

“You ever blown a smoke ring?”

If you’re not challenging him, you don’t quite know what to make of Luke. It’s the thing you know most about him, the way his face shifts from victory into loss. The way it matches yours, stretches from his eyes to his jaw and into clenched hands. If you’re not challenging him, you can’t read him - you want to be able to read him in the low light of right now.

“I bet I’m better at it than you,” you say after he answers. A short laugh escapes him, almost a huff, and it raises the skin on your arms when it meets the top of your ear. “Wanna see?”

“I’ve only got one.” He waves the cigarette he’s been holding in front of your eyes.

“We can share.”

It’s a bad, terrible, absolutely stupid idea.

“You’re on, Castellan.”

As he lights the end of it, you wonder if he knows what the brief flame does for his cheekbones, for his jawline. Paints them in small, defined shadows that you might still see if you close your eyes. You almost want to mention it to him. You settle for watching his lips settle around it, the sinking of his cheeks on the inhale and the noise as he exhales. There’s an almost complete ring of smoke in the air.

Luke hands you the cigarette and you repeat his motions, a little quicker. A little smoother. The ring that leaves your lips is full, but less circular.

Both of you pretend not to notice the other one staring.

You agree to best of three. You agree and you win by the tiniest margin and you hand Luke the little that remains as a consolation prize. He indulges in the last few drags and you watch him do it, looking nothing like the pre-med student you know he is. You think he could be dangerous like this, based on the way your stomach twists as he puts the cigarette out, how his head tilts back and the final wisps of smoke escape his mouth.

You aren’t as drunk anymore.

You really wish you were.

It takes Luke a second to notice that you’ve moved at all, eyes still closed but he does, and the run of his gaze across your face is enough for you to seize the last of the alcohol in your bloodstream, pushing forward so you’re actually face to face with him, knees digging into the rough carpet beneath you.

“Can I help you?” It’s low and a little ragged and this is the first time you’ve really noticed the thin, pale scar that stretches down the skin of his right cheek. It’s actually a little insane how pretty he is up close.

“I think I want a little more than the glory of winning this time,” and half of your whisper is lost to Luke Castellan’s lips but it’s not that important anyway.

What is important is the warmth of his hand through your shirt, pressed into the skin that exposes itself as you shift even closer. It’s the slightly rough texture of his jaw underneath your palm, the way his breath hitches in tandem with yours and you both push through it anyway. It’s the unexpected catch of your finger on his cap and the way you give up on it entirely, finally snatching it off his head so it lands somewhere nearby.

You’re not sure what you expected Luke’s hair to look like. Horrible, probably, with odd patches that lie weirdly flat and should be covered from view. It’s not this, wild dark curls that deserve to be seen.

“You have curly hair?” You say it before you can think not to, so caught up in the discovery you’ve just made, and Luke squints at you, unsure. “I can’t believe you have curly hair.”

He’s preparing a smart-ass comment, you know it by the way his teeth dig into his bottom lip, and that’s really just not going to work this time - not when he’s been lying for months behind a hat. So you do what any sane person would, twist your fingers into the curls at the nape of his neck and trail your lips across his jaw like you’ll die if you don’t.

His hand hooks underneath your thigh and, when you bracket his waist between your legs, cool leather brushing against your knees, you think this might be the best victory you’ve experienced yet.

Silena knows something is up when you refuse to speak to her about the party. There’s few secrets you’ve kept from each other since meeting, and even less since Clarisse got involved. It’s pointless to try, mostly, since they all spill out of you when the lights go out and you’re left with each other's company. You almost forgot how annoying she could be when she’s pushing for information.

“Don’t think I’m going to tell you either,” you say when Clarisse joins you in the library a week after the party. “I am a fortress of secrets.”

“I know you hooked up with Luke.”

“Seriously?”

She rolls her eyes, passing you the book you’d asked her for during practice last night. “Calm down. Chris told me. I’m down ten bucks now.”

“You bet on it?”

“Of course we did, it’s our brand.”

“I’m not telling Silena,” you whisper again, frowning at your notes. You wonder if Clarisse is aware you haven’t actually spoken to Luke since that night. “She’ll make it a big deal for nothing.”

“I won’t tell but you should probably figure out what happens next. There’s a party at ksig tomorrow night before everyone goes home for the holidays.” You tap your pen against the textbook. Clarisse pushes a slip of paper towards you. Someone’s phone buzzes to your left. “Think about it.”

When she’s long gone, you grab the paper she left from the table. It’s wrinkled and you smooth it as best you can beneath your fingertips. Blue ink, messily scrawled, and you commit it to memory. Closing your textbook, you leave it pressed between chapters seven and eight.

The party is loud, louder than you’re prepared for after flaking out on so many since your first one last year. Silena brushes past you once you arrive, shoving your shoulder just enough that it twinges and you frown. You didn’t speak a word on the way here and the silent treatment is starting to drive a little crazy.

It feels silly now, in a place so crowded, and you breathe deeply. Someone points you in the direction of the kitchen after multiple attempts at asking and you miss the light chaos of throwing up outside the Stolls’ dorm with your best friend.

You grab a beer, using the table edge to pop the cap off, and it helps to ease the tightness in your chest at how unfamiliar this all is. You’re not sure you could even find the restroom, let alone a singular person.

Pushing back into the bulk of the party, you vow to leave if you don’t find him before you finish your beer. There’s a project you have to start looking into for next semester that could be a good use of time tonight.

If anyone tried to convince you that most of campus was here, you’d be willing to believe them. A drink raised in Lee’s direction, a nod to Ethan from last years’ stats class, a half-hearted smile at Rachel, who raises an eyebrow at you like she knows something no one else does.

And maybe she does, because you turn away from her to find Luke just feet away, gesturing animatedly to the guy next to him. There’s a beer in his hand and a hat on his head and his phone number so deeply etched in your mind since last night that you hardly think about it until you’re standing next to him again, drink placed on a table somewhere along the way.

“Hi,” he smiles and his scar shifts with it. He turns to the guy from before. “We’ll catch up later, man.”

“Have I ever told you that I hate that fucking hat?”

“I sort of got that when you threw it across the room.” His lips wrap around the rim of his bottle and you think you can be normal about it, go back to the way things were, until he smirks just slightly and you know you can’t.

“You’re such a sore loser, Castellan,” you mutter as you push yourself up to snatch it from his head. He doesn’t comment, lets your fingers brush through his curls until they’re a complete mess instead of compacted. He glances down at the cap in your hand and mutters, “And what is your genius plan for my hat?”

It’s a really fucking good question. Short of getting it off his head, you didn’t know what you were going to do. It’s one thing to throw it across an empty room in the dark, another thing entirely to abandon it to a frat party. So you choose the next best thing - placing it on your own head and daring him to question it.

“I guess that can work,” Luke says and it sounds like a promise soaked in laughter.

Neither of you find it as funny when he has to tip the visor upwards to kiss you.

#luke castellan #luke castellan x reader #percy jackson and the olympians #luke castellan x you #🖊️ abi writes…

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metalhoops · 10 months

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Inspired by this post

Steve had watched the world end a hundred different ways. He’d lived the same day more times than he could count, watching the people he loved die or feeling himself die. There were things worse than death. There were memories he didn’t dredge up for fear of calling them into the waking world.

He'd held onto hope for the first twenty recurrent days, which had dwindled to a sense of steely determination until he’d lost count of the days. Then all that was left was the comfort of repetition. He was Sisyphus pushing the boulder up the hill, day in and day out. Steve kept trying and failing to save Eddie until it was all he knew.

Maybe he was Prometheus, who stole fire from the gods and spent his life paying for it, tied to a rock while birds picked at his liver, only for it to grow back with each morning. Prometheus whose name, by definition, means forethought; one’s ability to consider possible futures. Steve had spent a small lifetime considering futures. It wasn’t a comparison he would’ve made on his own. That was Eddie, who’d spent his childhood with his head in thick tomes of fantasy and mythology.

Eddie Munson came to him like cheap furniture, in crudely disassembled pieces that Steve had been working tirelessly to put together. Each new loop brought him another piece of Eddie. His favourite colour was blue. He only woke up early on weekends to watch cartoons. He liked too much cream in his coffee.

The Eddie that existed in a world where Steve stayed with him and Dustin during the swarm of bats had told Steve his biggest dream was to make enough money to buy Uncle Wayne a proper home. His biggest fear was that when he died, no one would remember him.

Days or months later, with Steve repeating the same damn day, he’d finally learnt why Eddie’s love for his uncle ran so deep. Wayne had taken him in before his dad went to jail when the man caught Eddie holding another boy’s hand. In that world, Steve had stayed with Eddie in the RV as the rest of the group searched War Zone.

Eddie’s mother died when he was six. He’d told Steve that later, or earlier. Steve had and has lost his sense of past and present. Eddie loved his mother deeply, though was unsure if that love had been misplaced. He recalled two mothers, one who read him bedtime stories and threw herself around the kitchen each morning with her wild theatrics and another mother who was distant and whose temper could turn on a dime. Eddie wasn’t sure which of those mothers was his and which was the mother of memory. All good storytellers know the story shapes itself in the retelling. Eddie’s mother was Janus, god of duality.

Steve understood. He loved and hated his parents. These feelings weren’t mutually exclusive. Steve loved Eddie because he’d spent the last hundred-odd days getting to know him, but Steve hated Eddie because he kept dying. Until he didn’t.

The boys lay side by side in the red-blue soil of The Upside Down, their bleeding sides caked with mud and demonic bat viscera. In the end, Steve wasn’t sure what’d done it. It’d been so long since he’d lived Eddie’s original death that it’d been smeared by the haze of memory and conjecture. All he knew was that a sea of bats lay dead around them and that it was over. Finally, over.

Steve removed his hand from where it was pressed into his side and extended it to ensnare Eddie’s. He felt muscles tug and tear from the walls of his ribs with the effort. Blood flowed freely from the cavity, but Steve didn’t care. He wanted to hold Eddie’s hand. Holy shit, they’d done it.

Somewhere along the way, Steve had fallen in love. It’d taken him ten more iterations to reconcile with the fact he could not only like a man but love him. That was months ago, in Steve’s time. It was old news. “Steve, you still with me?” Eddie asked, his voice horse.

He was hurt, though not as badly as Steve. All his wounds were superficial. He’d be okay. Steve had been so sick of watching Eddie die, he’d been willing to put his body on the line to make sure it didn’t happen again.

In this loop, he was still ‘Steve’, not ‘Stevie’. They hadn’t grown close enough yet. Eddie only called him ‘sweetheart’ in the iterations where they kissed. Steve wanted to kiss him, but there was the taste of iron in his mouth.

“I’m okay,” Steve insisted, squeezing Eddie’s hand. He felt a sharp pain shoot through his side as Eddie pressed his hand into Steve’s wound.

“Christ, there’s a lot of blood,” Eddie muttered to himself.

He was bad with blood. He’d scraped his knee down to the bone when he was seven and ever since, the sight of gore made him queasy. Steve wasn’t meant to know that yet. In this iteration, he hadn’t told Eddie about the loop. He’d tried before, but it never helped.

Pain and blood loss drag Steve down into a familiar oblivion. He expected to wake at the beginning of the loop, emerging in The Upside Down from Lover’s Lake, but instead, he found himself in a hospital room with Eddie in a bed by his side. It was late, too late for visitors, but Eddie wasn’t sleeping. His eyes were trained on Steve, equal parts concerned and curious.

“You scared the shit out of me,” Eddie confessed, as Steve’s eyes met his.

Steve wanted to cry or scream. He wanted to untangle himself from the knot of cords and tubes to crawl beside Eddie in bed as they had curled up together in the back of the RV dozens of times before. He needed to hold Eddie to know he was alive, to understand he wasn’t going anywhere. Steve blinked away tears, balling his hands into fists. He didn’t want to scare Eddie.

“I scared you?” Steve choked out a mixture between a laugh and a sob.

Eddie didn’t know what to do. He never knew what to do when people cried. Steve learned that in the iteration where they’d lost Dustin. He didn’t want to think about it.

“You almost died, man,” Eddie explained.

He somehow understood Steve wanted him closer. Eddie got out of bed, clutching his I.V. drip as he flopped into the chair by Steve’s bedside. He wanted to hold Eddie’s hand again, but he was out of excuses. He could tell him the truth, but he didn’t know what good it would do.

Steve was still used to thinking of possible futures. He was Prometheus who, unlike Sisyphus, escaped his torment. Steve wondered what happened to Prometheus after he was rescued. Did he return to a normal life? Does anyone bother to ask? Prometheus’ story is always about punishment. Afterwards, he was a footnote in the story of Hercules, but once the heroes leave the story, what’s left?

Eddie would know the answer, but it wasn’t a conversation he’d had with this Eddie. That Eddie was dead. This Eddie was and wasn’t him. This Eddie was Janus, god of abstract duality, god of beginnings and ends, god of life and death.

“Sorry my lame-ass face is the first one you had to see. Robin and the kids were in here all day. Wheeler left flowers,” Eddie tacked on awkwardly.

This Eddie didn’t know Steve. They were strangers. Of course, things were awkward. He couldn’t know he was the one person Steve wanted to see more than anything.

“No, Ed’s—.” Slip of the tongue.

“Eddie. I’m really glad you’re here, man.”

They were back to square one, but Steve could work with that. He’d been working with that for months. This time, Eddie would remember. This time, they had the luxury of taking things slow.

“One thing’s been bugging me all day,” Steve began.

After hundreds of days of getting to know Eddie, Steve had learnt a few shortcuts, a few ways to jump-start his way into Eddie’s heart.

“Can you explain what the hell Mordor is?”

It was a tried-and-true method. By that point, Steve knew Eddie’s response off by heart, but he wanted to hear him say it. Eddie gave him the same perplexed look he always did when Steve asked. It was as though Eddie thought he knew too much like there was some secret he wasn’t letting him in on, but he didn’t challenge Steve on it. He never did.

“Harrington, have you heard of Lord of the Rings?” Yes.

“No.” A million times.

“Tell me about it.”

Read Part 2 Here

#steddie #steddie ficlet #steve harrington #eddie munson #stranger things #drabble #ficlet #Metalhoops writes #I read the post yesterday #and I've been thinking about it ever since #the plot kind of ran away with itself #but I like how it turned out #I'm considering a part 2 #from Eddie's point of few in the weeks/ months that follow #depending on if people are interested #shoutout to #@theamazingbard #for the idea

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hopelesslyromanticshark · 1 month

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⋆ ˚｡⋆౨ৎ˚ He Fell First; Literally

content: leo valdez x daughter of poseidon! reader fic warning: lanauage, minor mentions of an ED so if that's something that might trigger you DO NOT READ IM NOT JOKING, author's note: so painfully not canon. i try my best, really i do, but i was not reading those books for memory at 12. i was consuming those books at a rate never before seen, not locking things into my brain. but the fact that i can feel in my bones that it's not super canon accurate makes me want to gorge my eye out but whatevas

y/n was having a pretty crap day. she had been up before apollo allowed the sun to rise, staring blankly over at percy’s side of the cabin. she had been keeping it the same, not shifting the comforter too much or moving his dirty socks from under the bed, knowing he hated when she messed with his stuff. but, every morning, she made sure the dust wasn’t settling. because dust meant more time passed and that thought made her queasy, even though it’s been months.

then, once it was a more acceptable time for her to leave cabin three, y/n had been running around the whole day. she was helping the harpies with breakfast then she had to train some of the younger kids with spears then she helped the hephestus cabin out which left her covered in soot and smelling like a firework. she helped clean out the pegasus stalls, allowing connor and travis to leave early and do as they please. all of that before ten in the morning! she marched her way to breakfast when it was called, putting stuff on her plate to ultimately scrape it all off into the fire, prayers and wishes for percy’s return and safety on loop in her mind. then, she had what chiron liked to call ‘check-ups’ but it was just therapy. she wouldn’t go if he hadn’t threatened to take away her title of camp counselor, something she prided herself on. so, she went, and she lied and said she definitely didn’t cry late at night and she definitely slept through the night and didn’t wake up from nightmares of her little brother contorted in unnatural ways and covered in blood.

leo would say his day was going pretty well, on the other hand. if you ignore the part that his best friend got amnesia, his bully turned into some tornado thing, both of his best friends fell into the grand canyon only to fly back up, and coach hedge was half goat. actually, his day was pretty crap too. now, he was sitting in some chariot thing, with a buff guy that had an inclination for rainbows and a blonde girl that was beyond disappointed by them for just being them. then, another tornado thing showed up, damaging the chariot and sending them rapidly towards the ground, though butch managed to still hold some control. good news was that they were at they’re location, bad news was that landing was going to be a bitch. the blonde girl leaned over the side of the chariot, looking around for someone.

“what are you doing?!” leo called over the rushing wind, looking at her like she was crazy, which took a lot considering the day he’s had.

“saving our lives. what time is it?” she asked, frantically, and leo just continued to stare.

“you’re asking for the time now?!”

“around 11, why does it matter?” piper replied, her grip firm on the side of the chariot.

“because we’re lucky!” the blonde girl replied with a wide grin before cupping her mouth, “y/n!”

“don’t feel very lucky right now,” leo muttered.

y/n marched away from the big house, muttering about the centaur under her breath before hearing a shout for her name. she frowned, looking around and seeing no one. then she looked up, her shoulders sagging as she noticed the chariot rapidly heading towards camp, a familiar blonde leaning over the edge, waving her hands and basically jumping up and down while she called out to y/n.

“annabeth!?” y/n called back, quickly breaking out in a run to get a closer look. she squinted, and noticed one of the wheels was missing.

“oh, gods,” y/n huffed before motioning towards the lake, “butch! go to the lake!”

“the lake? this high up, we might as well just jump off into the ground now,” jason stated, tilting his head at the blonde, annabeth, who seemed rather giddy even though they were most certainly about to die.

“not if the water comes to us,” she replied with a shrug, leaving the three to stare at her.

“oh, she’s cray-cray,” leo grumbled to himself, glancing down at the water that would certainly feel like cement if they jumped. the other blonde stood at the beach, other kids in orange t-shirts beginning to gather and stare.

“you guys have to jump!” y/n called, knowing she couldn’t catch all five of them and the chariot and the pegasus. she knew butch would look out for the pegasus and unclip him so he wouldn’t be injured. but still.

“i will not!” piper insisted, if anything, she tightening her hold on the chariot.

“you will die if you stay on,” annabeth told her, before gripping piper’s shoulders, “you have to trust me.”

“we just met you,” leo argued, causing annabeth to look over her shoulder at him.

“that’s when trust works best,” she reasoned and leo swallowed thickly, as she was starting to convince him.

“annie! running out of time here!” the girl from the beach called nervously.

“okay,” leo breathed out, causing piper to look at him like he’s crazy too.

“leo?!”

“look, if we’re gonna die anyways, i wanna be cool while i do it,” he joked back, like usual, moving closer to the open end. piper took a few more seconds to decide before moving towards him, a false confidence settling over her face.

without another thought, the five of them quickly ditched the chariot, which sent them plummeting towards the water…which seemed to rise to meet them, allowing them to simply slip into the bubbles, no so much as a sting against their skin. then they washed up against the beach, like the ocean was spitting them out. leo coughed up some of the water that managed to invade his lungs, rolling onto his back as he looked up at the sky. a girl’s face intercepted his view, the sun behind her head and hiding her features in shadows. he could make out her golden waves for hair, which were beginning to look like a halo from his view.

“you okay?” she asked, holding a hand out to pull him up.

“just peachy,” he muttered back, getting his arms behind himself and pushing his body into a half seated position. the sun moved from behind the girl’s face to next to it, allowing him to see her features finally. she gave him a soft smile, something like a laugh leaving her lips as she tilted her head at him. all the air squeezed out of his lungs and he felt like he could burst into flames, something he was rapidly trying to get under control.

“you could be having a worse day. i could have been busy,” the girl mused, shrugging her shoulders and leo opened his mouth to reply but the words seemed to die on his tongue, only sounds coming out. the girl giggled, sweetly, and it was like hearing the ocean in a seashell. then, a loud crash interrupted the moment, y/n’s head instantly shooting up and watching the chariot sink into the lake. she winced, quickly rising to her feet as another girl marched to the edge of the water, a shocked look on her face.

“nyssa, nyssa, please don’t freak out! i- i can get it out, promise!” the girl quickly reasoned, following with her hands outstretched like the other girl was a feral beast.

“y/n, we can’t build another one! the curse-”

“doesn’t exist. it’s all mental,” the blonde girl, assumable y/n, muttered in protest, earning her a glare.

“y/n!” nyssa huffed, throwing her hands up.

“i’ll get it out right now,” insisted y/n, raising her hands before another loud crunch was heard, the water rippling with an even louder gurgle. y/n winced again, lowering her hands as nyssa’s mouth dropped in shock.

“it didn’t-”

“it did,” y/n confirmed before nyssa screamed with her mouth closed, marching off. y/n closed her eyes, taking a calming breath before turning to the crowd that had gathered around the new arrivals.

“hey! shoo! nothing to see here,” she joked, waving away the other people in orange, watching them slowly leave, not without a few more glances at the newly found trio. she spun back to the new arrivals, helping piper to her feet before turning to annabeth, pulling her into a hug.

“hey, you!” she cheered before pulling back, noticing the blonde’s discouraged look, “hey, he’s okay. we’d feel it if he wasn’t. go get chiron, yeah? i’ve got this.”

“i know…but, it’s hard,” annabeth whispered back. y/n patted her cheek lovingly before gently steering her away.

“hello! sorry, this is one of the more chaotic ways i’ve seen people come to camp! busy, busy, that’s me,” y/n stated as she approached the three with a welcoming smile.

“i’m sorry, but who are you? why are we here? where even is here?” piper questioned rapidly, still trying to wring the water out of her shirt.

“agh, this is going terribly,” y/n huffed before taking a quick breath, “let’s start over, yeah? i’m y/n l/n. this is camp half-blood, which is a camp for people like us, children of gods and morals. therein lies the ‘half blood.’”

“god? like, god and jesus?” leo questioned, squinting and tilting his head. y/n gave him a soft smile, which caused his bpm to surely spike.

“no, greek gods. athena, poseidon, zeus,” y/n listed quickly.

“jupiter,” jason corrected before he could stop himself, frowning as the word left his mouth. y/n turned to him with a small frown too, tilting her head.

“that…that’s roman…interesting,” she muttered before shaking her head, “sorry. i never asked your names.”

“you apologize a lot. i’m piper mclean,” piper stated, holding her hand out to shake y/n’s already stretched hand.

“sorry,” y/n jokes, winking, causing piper to let out a little laugh. she then turned to jason, who seemed to be deep in thought, before he shook it off and looked at her.

“jason…grace.” he replied, unconfidently.

“you…you don’t seem so sure,” y/n replied, giving his hand a quick shake with a frown.

“i’m not. i’ve- i’ve got amnesia,” he replied, causing y/n’s frown to deepen.

“i’m sorry to hear that. i’ll make sure to tell will. he’s our resident healer, maybe he can figure it out,” y/n told him, giving him a soft smile to which he nodded off, before y/n turned to leo. she had to admit, he’d caught her eyes easily. his curly hair and olive skin, how his hands never seemed to sit still (more so than expected of demigods), the way he smiled at her. but, she’d closed off that part of her heart a long time ago. she didn’t have time for it, she’d tell herself late at night.

“leo valdez. bad boy supreme,” he offered up, causing y/n to raise an eyebrow at him as he briefly shook her hand before flipping it over and pressing his lips against. she rolled her eyes, fighting off a blush.

“if i didn’t know any better, i’d say you're a child of aphrodite,” she replied with a huff, slowly pulling her hand back.

“right back at ya,” leo mused, proudly with a wink.

“down boy,” mocked y/n before turning away and to the other two present, “alright, so i’ll start of the tour of camp half-blood! don't worry, you're gonna love it here!”

you were expert at this tour, sure you could give it blindfolded. you told little anecdotes, even managing to earn you a smile from jason, something you proudly celebrated. you walked backwards as you called out the cabins, pointing with both hands like a flight attendant signaling exits. at least, you thought that's what you looked like. you really had no idea as you've never been flying and probably never would, zeus not exactly a big fan of yours. for such a short tour, quite a lot of claiming went down, something that had you fondly thinking of your brother and not so fondly thinking of luke castellan. you ended your tour at the big house, knowing chiron would be wanting to talk to them, jason especially.

"chiron's gonna take it from here. if you've got any questions, don't be afraid to seek me out!! well, enjoy camp!" y/n mused, clapping her hands before going to walk away but chiron called out to her, ignoring the wide eyed stares he was getting from the trio for being part horse.

"y/n, dear, would you be so kind as to check on annabeth? i worry for her. oh, and will mentioned something about needing help in the infirmary...if you'd be willing," he stated and leo could tell from the minor twitch of her eye that y/n wished she wasn't so willing.

"of course, chrion. when have i ever said no to you?" the girl asked, plastering a smile on her face that clearly took a lot out of her before spinning around on her heels and marching away. and leo's eyes stayed on her, and while they'd typically drift down to her ass, he couldn't bring himself to look downwards as his worry for her overtook his soul.

dinner finally came around, leo sort of following nyssa like a lost puppy. he wasn’t completely sure of himself in this place yet, and nyssa was more than happy to show him the ropes. she grabbed her own dinner, showing him how before one of their other siblings calls for her. she left him and leo glanced around before his eyes settled on a nearby blonde, a smile growing on his lips. he slid in behind her, pretending to be excited over a roll and plopping it down on his plate. y/n glanced over at him, a small smile appearing on her lips before she continued walking and inspecting the food presented to them.

“so, day one. how’s it going?” she asked, sighing as she glanced at the food. her stomach was aching for some food, but her guilt held stronger. Who knows the last time percy had a good meal…or even if he was alive-

“eh. you know, as far as first days in new places go, this isn’t too bad. once got swirly within the first hour of being at a new school,” leo mused, throwing together a random plate of food. y/n laughed lightly, glancing at him out of the corner of her eye as she grabbed an apple.

“give a few hours, the ares kids can smell fresh meat,” y/n joked back, leaning over with a wink before walking away from the food towards her table. leo's lips twitched into a small frown before quickly grabbed a bowl of fruit before following.

“so, are there like clique tables i should watch out for or?” leo prompted, fully expecting to sit with y/n. she looked over at him, her brows furrowing.

“nyssa didn’t tell you? you sit with your siblings. each god and goddess has a table. yours is over there,” explained y/n, pointing over at the hephestus table while still walking towards her lonely table. leo continued to follow, a frown on his lips.

“so…you sit by yourself?” he questioned, the words leaving a bitter taste in his mouth, “a girl like you shouldn’t have to sit by herself.”

“well, i wasn’t always alone…look, these- these are rules, okay? i’m sorry, leo, but you’ve got to sit at your table,” y/n replied, shaking her head as if ridding herself of memories. leo continued to frown before setting the bowl of fruit down on her table and sliding it over to her. she looked up at him, confusion clear on her face.

“you didn’t grab enough to eat,” he explained with a shrug before giving her a salute as he walked back to his table. y/n’s eyes never once left him until he was with his siblings and managed to catch her gaze, the girl promptly averting her eyes and missing the smile that grew on leo’s lips. she looked down at the bowl of fruit fondly before digging in, eating her fill for the first time in months.

“what’s her story?” leo asked over dinner, his eyes trained on y/n as his fork passively stabbed at something on his plate. nyssa looked up from her food at him before following his gaze to y/n.

“who? y/n? ha, you must think highly of yourself,” nyssa scoffed, noting the ways his eyes practically formed hearts. leo sputtered, turning to nyssa with a glare.

“what?”

“she’s got every guy in camp half-blood on her tail. i wish you the best of luck trying to win her over, many people have tried and failed,” nyssa replied with a shrug.

“not what i meant,” leo huffed, returning his eyes to his plate. nyssa looked over at him, frowning.

“what did you mean then?”

“how’d she get here? what’s she like? stuff like that,” leo answered before shaking his head, “look it’s stupid-”

“she’s enigmatic. nicest girl you’ll ever meet, but harsh when she needs to be. she never backs down from anything; she once performed a whole choreographed song and dance during lunch because she lost a bet. poor y/n had to do stall duties for a week after that, but she did it with a smile, telling everyone it was so worth it. y/n l/n is the best of all of us,” nyssa cut in, her words so honest and truthful that leo got sucked in.

“her brother, percy, went missing a few months ago. she lived for him, everything she did was for her brother. technically, they aren’t even full siblings, like you and i. but, they weren’t like that. they became family quickly. she likes to pretend that she’s fine, but everyone knows she’s not. that bowl of fruit…it’s the first thing i’ve seen her eat in a few weeks," confessed nyssa, giving leo a pointed look. he couldn't help the pride that filled his chest at the thought.

and then determination quickly settled into the boys bones. he was determined to make sure she kept eating, three meals a day at least. he was determined to make her laugh, help her find some joy. he was determined to ensure that the daughter of the sea god never saw another cloudy day, not if leo had anything to say about it.

#postcards from covey ౨ৎ #all my love ౨ৎ #hoo #heroes of olympus x reader #leo valdez x reader #leo valdez

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