#his likeness is so difficult to capture i can never get it right

[cockworkangels]

a guy from kansas

#i tried to draw dean after theeee longest time. i haven't drawn him since like february #his likeness is so difficult to capture i can never get it right #i fucked up with the face but it was too late to turn back lol #i tried 🤷‍♀️ but idk i can't get this to look like i envisioned #spn #supernatural #dean winchester #spn fanart #dean winchester fanart #my art #digital art

[daisynik7]

I could even learn how to love like you

There’s a certain type of peace you find in the mundanity of the typical morning commute. The soothing whirring of the railway, the chill of metal against your fingers wrapped around the handholds, even the odd comfort of being surrounded by strangers who are equally as half asleep as you are, willing to shuffle the slightest bit to make room for new passengers. Sure, it’s a nuisance for the most part, but it’s your tiny pocket of harmony before the usually stressful workday. A routine you’ve grown accustomed to, something you can rely on to stay the same in this ever-changing society. 

Change is never a bad thing, though. And sometimes, it takes a stranger on the train to show you that.

He immediately captures your attention the first time you see him. Tan business suit, straight posture, hair neatly parted, stoic expression etched on his face. The typical salary man heading to his office job in the city. While his stature is most-impressive, it’s his tie that piques your interest, a spotted pattern akin to leopard print. A splash of pizzazz on an otherwise ordinary outfit. 

He maneuvers his way to you, wrapping his fist around the same pole you’re holding, his grip a safe distance above yours. He glances at you through his spectacles, giving you a short nod to acknowledge you. You return this with a small smile, and when you notice he doesn’t have any headphones in, you say, “I like your tie.” You normally wouldn’t speak to anyone here, most people too immersed in their preferred choice of media, like music or the news. Something tells you that straying from your usual habits might be good for you today.

The second of silence where he’s processing what you said scares you; maybe you’ve become a bother for him in this already troublesome commute. Then, he clears his throat, his gaze flickering at you for the briefest moment before it focuses on the floor. “Thank you.”

The conversation ends there. In fact, that’s your entire interaction throughout the remainder of the journey. Your station arrives before his and you leave without another word. It’s neither awkward nor extraordinary. Still, the moment doesn’t stop replaying in your memory the rest of the day. You wonder if you’ll get a chance to see him on the way home, knowing the chances are slim. Schedules vary, there are many different sections of the train. The stars would have to align just right for you to be reunited with this stranger. Despite the improbability of it all, you allow yourself to be hopeful. The little taste of excitement this morning has you craving more. 

~~~

Two days pass until Nanami meets you again. Maybe he does it subconsciously, maybe it’s intentional, but he finds himself gravitating towards you. When he places his hand above yours on the pole, in similar fashion to the last time, he gives his usual nod, unsure if you recognize him.

You beam at him. “Good morning!”

He doesn’t say anything else; he’d only be pestering you with trivial conversation. Though he can’t help watching from his peripheral as you scroll through pictures of delicious food on your phone. He notices you screenshot the ones that include recipes in the description, causing him to grin to himself at how he does the same. The urge to comment is in the back of his throat, the tip of his tongue. Getting it out proves to be difficult, and he knows why. Nanami made a vow to himself ever since he returned to being a Jujutsu Sorcerer: don’t fall in love. He’s completely aware of how dangerous his job is, how his life is at risk every single mission he’s sent on. It’s what he signed up for, the life he’s currently committed to. There’s no room for attachment, for love. It's easier for him to avoid it altogether, even if it means swallowing down a simple hello on the train. It’s better this way. And quite frankly, he isn’t sure if he’s even capable of loving the way others do. His heart has become so callous throughout the years that there’s no chance at it ever softening, he’s sure of it. Perhaps the flutter in his chest at the smile you flash him is a coincidence, nothing more. 

This theory is soon debunked. 

Nanami is especially tired after today’s mission. Heading home, he manages to secure a row of empty seats and plops himself down, resting his head back, sighing. He closes his eyes, listening to the usual hustle and bustle of rush hour, resisting every temptation to fall asleep. Missing his stop would put a damper on his already foul mood. 

Eventually, the automated voice announces your stop. For whatever reason, he made it a point to remember it when you hopped off this morning, just two away from his. When he feels someone sit beside him, he peeks with one eye open, curious. 

“Hi.” You smile softly at him, eyes crinkling with genuine kindness. “It’s you.”

While Nanami is guarded and closed off from people outside his intimate circle, he’s never rude. He has no other choice but to respond to you, ignoring the obvious thump in his chest at your endearing greeting. “Hello.” He tries his best to convince himself that this unfamiliar flutter surrounding him is some sort of medical condition that needs proper diagnosis and not affection towards a beautiful stranger on the train. Stiffening in his seat, he pretends not to be intrigued by the food magazine you start flipping through, secretly studying the way you fold the corners of all the recipes you want to save for later. 

Halfway into the ride, he actually does fall asleep, only rousing awake when he feels a gentle tap on his shoulder. Blinking the bleariness from his eyes, he catches you staring at him guiltily. “Sorry,” you apologize. “I think your stop is coming next and I didn’t want you to miss it.”

He sits up straight, readjusting his tie, clearing his throat before he replies, “Thank you.” Sure enough, the automated voice from the speaker announces that they’ll be approaching his stop next. Slightly disoriented from his nap, he stands up, grasping the nearest handhold tight. His mind is racing, body itching to say something more, say anything more. Before he can, the train comes to a halt. The doors open and without another glance, he’s gone. 

Nanami spends the entire fifteen minutes of his walk home attempting to quell the stir of emotions inside him, from guilt to giddiness, all over the simple fact that you’ve memorized his stop. That you’re paying attention to him just as he is with you. 

~~~

This time, he’s the first to greet you, offering a polite nod before he grabs onto the same pole that you’re occupying. “Good morning.”

You’ve been boarding this particular section ever since you started seeing him, hoping he’d do the same. “Hello, stranger,” you respond with a grin, unable to contain your happiness.

He holds his other hand out to you. “Nanami. Nanami Kento.”

You state your name in similar fashion, shaking his hand. His skin is rough against yours, though his grip is gentle. You let go of him, dropping your arm to your side, fingers tingling. “I guess we’re not strangers anymore.”

“I guess not,” he says with a small smile. And it’s enough to send you into a tizzy. 

Conversation is easy with him. He mentions the magazine you were reading the other day, expressing his mutual interest in food. From there, the two of you talk about your favorite restaurants and eateries around the area, giving your best recommendations. Because of all the ambient noise, you lean in close to one another to hear each other properly. The gap between your hands on the pole is shorter by the time your stop approaches. You’re prepared to bid him a reluctant farewell, so it surprises you when he follows you off. “Is this your stop too?” you ask him, though you already know it isn’t. 

He shakes his head, fixing his tie idly. “My office is fifteen minutes from here. I want to get a quick walk in before I start work.”

“Are you sure this isn’t an excuse to spend more time with me?” you tease him, smirking.

He gazes into your eyes. “Maybe it’s that too.”

This is the start of a new and exciting routine for you, one that involves Nanami. You’ll spend the morning together, talking to each other in the middle of the crowded train. Then, he’ll walk you to your office building, where he leaves you with a cordial bow. You’re reunited during rush hour, sitting next to each other sharing either the newspaper he brings along with him or the new issue of a magazine you’re subscribed to. You’ll even rip out recipes for him to keep, which he tucks safely in his pocket. When he’s too tired from the workday, he’ll close his eyes, his head falling just shy of your shoulder. It all seems silly and insignificant, but to you, it’s special. 

Your relationship never goes beyond this. The two of you don’t talk about work, you never ask questions about the new injuries on his hands or the minor scrapes on his face. The idea of being anything other than acquaintances who commute together terrifies you, and you have a strong sense that it terrifies him as well. While it would be nice to be in love, you’re not confident if you can give that to him. 

It's only after Nanami stops coming when you realize that maybe you can love him. 

On Thursday, the morning after Halloween, the commute takes longer than usual due to a mysterious incident in Shibuya that the media hasn’t disclosed fully. You listen carefully to the gossip surrounding the train. According to the elder folks, it has something to do about “the hooligans” partying too hard on Halloween. The younger generation of passengers chalk it up to some conspiracy about magical entities attacking civilians to lure other magical entities. You’re not sure what to believe, and whatever is the truth doesn’t matter once you realize Nanami hasn’t boarded at his usual stop. The delays don’t help your anxiety as you spend the remainder of the ride wondering where he could be, why he hasn’t shown up, if he’s okay. 

You follow the same routine as best as you can, frequenting the same section as you usually do, holding onto the same pole, which is lonely now without his presence. On the way home, you place your bag in the seat beside you, saving it for him if there’s ever the slim chance he does show up. You continue to tear recipes from the magazines you would normally read with him, placing them inside a small envelope marked with his name, ready to present to him if you ever do see him again. To show him that you never stop thinking about him even in his absence. 

Nothing is ever revealed about what really happened in Shibuya. The general consensus is that whatever danger emerged on that Halloween night is no longer a threat and that the citizens of Tokyo are once again safe. And based on the timing of Nanami’s sudden disappearance, you believe that he’s part of the reason for that. It’s the only solace you find in this otherwise heartbreaking situation. Still, you hold out hope. For what? You’re not sure until two months later when Nanami returns to your life. 

~~~

It takes one month for Nanami to be discharged from the hospital. He was admitted two days following Halloween, after Ieiri performed all she could with her abilities to aid him with his injuries. But he’s alive, they all are. The Jujutsu sorcerers succeeded at defeating Kenjaku and all his minions, thwarting whatever horrible fate they had in store for Tokyo, potentially the entire world. They won. 

However, their triumph came with a cost. The Shibuya Incident left him permanently scarred on the left side and one eye lost forever. Rehabilitation has been grueling the past few weeks, struggling to come to terms with this battered body. He’s received unyielding support from his colleagues who he shares this trauma with. Despite this, there’s something missing, someone missing in his life. He thinks about you much more than he ought to, wondering if you’ve noticed his absence, if it’s affected you at all. Ever the pessimist, Nanami has convinced himself that you have forgotten about him, even after all the tiny, special moments you’ve shared together. It’s better this way, he knows that. After all, he doesn’t have the slightest clue what love is or how to love somebody. 

Still, he’d like to see you again, just to know that you’re doing alright. 

Another month passes before he musters the courage to be out in public again. Because of the winter season, he can hide as much of himself without rousing any suspicion. A large coat, mittens on his hands, a scarf around his neck, a mask to cover the burn scars. He dons his usual spectacles, hoping to conceal the eyepatch draped across his hollow socket. Ever since the incident, he’s felt like a monster, unable to reveal himself to strangers oblivious to the true events of that night. 

He finally boards the train, stepping foot in the usual section as he would going home, searching for a familiar face. There you are, as beautiful as ever, sitting in the same seat, your bag occupying the one beside you. You look up, your eyes meeting his, holding onto his gaze a split second longer than expected before you focus back on the magazine laid out on your lap.

It takes everything in him to deny the swell in his chest, the tiniest sliver of hope fluttering in his belly at the thought of you recognizing him. Before he loses his composure, he takes his place on the empty row across from you, enough distance to observe you inconspicuously. That’s all he intends to do, nothing more. 

As much as his world has been shaken, he’s comforted by you flipping through your magazine as usual, your life continuing normally as it should. However, he can’t help feeling a deep sadness, knowing he’s not a part of it anymore. 

Once again, you prove his assumptions wrong.

His eye widens, intrigued by you grinning at a particular page, carefully tearing it from the binding, something you used to do this for him not too long ago. He watches with bated breath as you retrieve from your bag a marked envelope already teeming with what he assumes are other recipes from previous issues. You add the new one with a delighted expression, making sure to close the flap for a temporary seal. And clear as day on the front of the envelope, even with his obscured vision, is his name written on the front. 

He sits up straight at this, his full attention on this seemingly insignificant discovery. This captures your attention, the inkling you had earlier validated. It’s him. The stature, the posture, those distinct steampunk glasses. You didn’t want to be wrong, so you didn’t say anything, trying to stifle your quickening heartbeat. But you’ve been waiting two months for this reunion, yearned for it more than anything. Unable to contain yourself any longer, you stand up, traversing towards him until you’re an arms-length away, gripping a pole tightly to steady yourself. “Nanami?”

Panic sinks in as he decides to reveal himself to you, anticipating the shock and terror in your face when you see what he looks like now. He removes the mask slowly, avoiding eye contact. “Yes, it’s me.”

Your reaction surprises him. With that same warm smile he’s missed so much, you sit down beside him, unfazed by the scars. “I’m so happy to see you.”

Love is standing close on a crowded train to keep each other company. Love is getting off at the wrong stop to spend more time together. Love is magazine clippings in an envelope with his name on it. Love is seeing all the broken pieces of him and still finding him completely beautiful. 

Nanami is certain now that he could learn how to love like you. 

Author's Note: This is the final installment of the past lives vignettes series. It’s a bit cheesy, but I really wanted to explore the aspect of “missed connections” and I thought strangers on the train would be perfect to do that. Title inspired by the song “Love Like You” by Rebecca Sugar. Likes, reblogs, and/or comments are never expected, always appreciated. Thanks for reading. Divider credit to @/cafekitsune.

#nanami kento #nanami kento x reader #nanami kento x you #nanami kento fluff #kento nanami x reader #kento nanami x you #kento nanami fluff #nanami x reader #nanami x you #nanami fluff #jjk x reader #jjk fluff

[rottenomelet]

Hey, could you do a little fic with yandere Choso? Going a little more into depth like the one you did with Geto? You’re writing is phenomenal

(note(s): i absolutely can :P i was thinking about doing this anyways like anon u just read my mind. and thank you :)

warning(s): implied kidnapping, implied stalking, mentions of period (non sexually), all-in-all slightly creepy tendencies. choso is just an oral king here so if that isnt ur thing, i sorry.)

Yandere Choso Thoughts (1k)

Here’s the thing: Choso is the oldest of ten. He’s hyper independent and he’s in a position of always taking care of others. But he doesn’t just enjoy the act; he embodies it. Being a caretaker is his pride and joy. Being an oldest brother is Choso’s absolute greatest accomplishment, and he wears the title like a medal.

So of course the same can be said when it comes to you, his precious darling.

Having you as his responsibility brings him immeasurable joy. Choso is prideful about how well he’s taken care of you, how much brighter and healthier you’ve looked since he’s taken you into his care.

He’s attentive to your needs like no one else, recognizes what you need even before you do. If you take any medication, he reminds you of it. He makes sure you drink enough water, that you eat balanced meals at healthy times, that you go to bed on time every night. Choso does not allow you much personal time for hobbies but he has no qualms about an - approved - book now and again, or even a tv show as long as you watch it with him.

Any nasty habits you have - smoking, drinking, not eating right, insomnia - he goes through absolute lengths to ‘cure’ you of. It’s not that he thinks these things make you imperfect, but rather that you’re his/. His darling, his responsibility - it just won’t do to have you feel anything but 100% good all the time.

Of course there is the more… concerning side of this attentiveness. He’ll mention special dates (an old friend’s birthday or the graduation of a family member). Choso will bring up tv shows you used to love but forgot about, give you comics you were once interested in but deemed too expensive. He even knows your cycle, buys you sanitary products the day before you begin. Choso sees no issue in telling you when you’re ovulating.

(“You’re at your most fertile today.” He’ll mention during dinner and you freeze. Your stomach churns as you process what he just said.

Choso doesn’t have to eat so he likes to sits there and watch you eat dinner. It was awkward at first, the man not much for talking and you reluctant to converse with your capturer. But as time passed, the two of you could at least exchange comments here and there for the duration of the meal.

Choso pays your discomfort no mind. “I know your stomach hurts, but try to eat a bit more. You have a busy night ahead of you and I want you at your best.”)

You’re in his capable hands now - there’s no reason to even think when Choso is there.

He’s caring in different ways too.

Choso loves your reactions. The way your brows scrunch, when you bite your lip, when your eyes roll into your skull. When your toes clench and your hips twitch and your thighs tremble. The sounds you make - heavens bells could never compare. Whether you’re moaning, whining, screaming, or crying his name, Choso revels in anything that leaves your lips.

He finds that the easiest way to get you to react is when his tongue is between your legs. You practically sing for him then.

The only thing he doesn’t like is how difficult it is to see your face when he’s down there. Because of this, his favorite position is with you on your back and your knees hooked over his shoulders. His face in your cunt, his eyes on you as he licks your most delicate place. He holds your shaking thighs apart as he suckles your clit. Choso practically moans with you when you cum on his tongue.

He doesn’t stop after one - doesn’t see a reason to. He’s here to take care of your every need - one orgasm isn’t enough for him.

(“No more. Please no more.” You whimper as you plead for Choso to have mercy on your sweet pussy.

You’ve come thrice on his tongue already. You’re shaking uncontrollably and the only reason you haven’t collapsed onto the bed yet is because Choso is holding you up. You’re overstimulated and your cunt aches. You can feel your clit pulsate on his tongue.

Choso only pauses his ministrations to reply. “You can handle it. You’ve done it before.”

He kisses the top of your cunt before sliding his tongue back against your special place. His tongue slides against your inner labia, only teasing your clit by circling it.

Your head falls back as moans spill out. It’s all just too much. You’ve never experienced pleasure like this - no one ever good enough at this to make you enjoy oral to this extent.

But Choso? Choso is a master at understanding your pleasure.

“I can’t.” You say, keening as you do.

“You can.” He responds and this time you know he’s not giving you any other options. “Just a little more, love. I know you can take it.”)

But even though Choso loves taking care of you, sometimes he needs to be taken care of.

He needs cuddles more than he would like to admit. He likes to lay on top of you with his head in your chest and your hand in his hair, scratching at his scalp. Choso likes praise, though he’ll never ask for it. Tell him he’s a good big brother, that he’s a good man to you too. He’ll be over the moon.

He’s quiet. He never reveals much of himself unless you prompt him to. He’ll always answer any question you have for him, adhere to most requests. But Choso will always be surprised, pleasantly so, when you show interest in him or want to spend time with him.

And when it comes to more human things, you find yourself leading. Kissing, hugging, holding hands. All things Choso has never heard about until you.

He was a shy kisser at first but now he absolutely loves it. That closeness? It’s something he could never replace.

He’s sweet, really. Choso just cares so much about you.

#jujutsu kaisen drabbles #jujutsu kaisen #jjk #yandere jjk #yandere jujutsu kaisen #choso #jjk choso #yandere choso #f!reader #i cant think of anything else #rottenomelet

[ghcstao3]

(x)

It’s… different, having a teammate held for a genuine interrogation, and not just for some qualifying exercise they’ve all had to participate in.

Soap and Ghost’s fight hadn’t been very fun, for as long as it had lasted. Nothing like their spars where teasing remarks were made around skillful manoeuvres, where at the end of everything they knew what limits could be pushed and what boundaries to respect. Instead it was fought dirty, viciously, and only because Soap knows Ghost was he able to stand his ground at all.

In the end, though, as the targets were detained or killed and the illegal fighting ring shut down—Soap came out victorious, when Ghost had been tranquilized.

The lighting is hardly any better in their makeshift interrogation room, but it’s enough to show Ghost’s withered state since his capture; gaunt cheeks, new scars, hollow stare. He hadn’t come into the arena with a shirt, so he doesn’t have one now—and it hurts Soap to see the outline of his ribs with every haggard breath he takes.

Soap is off in the sidelines as Price pokes and prods his lieutenant for answers—Soap had been deemed too injured to risk getting close, even when Ghost had been restrained. He holds a melting ice pack to a swollen, split lip with the one arm that hadn’t been recently dislocated and reset. He’ll admit that Ghost did a number on him.

He just prays they can get the lieutenant back.

But as the days stretch on, it gets increasingly difficult to hold onto hope. With no information, no signs of breaking, no signs of Simon—he might become a lost cause. And Soap doesn’t think he’s prepared to accept that yet.

Two weeks later, after they’ve moved location and shifted accommodations, Price resigns to finally let Soap help. He’s in much better shape, though the same can hardly be said about Ghost; he barely eats, hasn’t spoken once, and no one on the team is sure he’s really been sleeping.

Soap’s approach is slow. Ghost has already been roused and restrained yet again, perhaps only to be pushed and questioned to no avail like every other time. He barely spares Soap a glance upon his entrance into the room.

Their eyes properly meet for the first time in years when Soap kneels on the ground before Ghost, almost pleading. As if in prayer.

Simon’s eyes were always warm. They were the colour of Simon’s favourite tea, flecked with honey gold when the light hit his irises at just the right angle. Now, his gaze is frigid, his eyes nearly black. It takes everything within Soap not to mourn then and there.

“I’m sorry,” Soap murmurs. “I was supposed to have your six.”

Ghost stares at him with indifference, his attention in a faraway place. Soap misses his lieutenant now more than ever.

“I’d understand if you never forgive me,” Soap continues, itching to reach out and touch, “but I at least need you to come back, yeah? Please, Simon.”

Ghost’s jaw twitches almost imperceptibly.

Against all orders Price had given Soap, and against all training that has Soap’s instincts screaming—he leans his head against Ghost’s knee. He exhales shakily and just… sits like that, for a little while. Ghost doesn’t move, so neither does Soap, and maybe this will be the best thing the sergeant could get ever again, so he relishes.

Soap almost misses the hitch in Ghost’s own breathing, but he certainly doesn’t miss trembling, curious fingers dragging through his mohawk, now nearly overgrown. Soap freezes.

Ghost’s voice is nothing more than a hoarse whisper when he speaks, but Soap’s heart is pounding loudly in his chest as he listens anyway.

Quiet, broken, and nearly inaudible, something slips from Ghost’s lips for the first time in two weeks.

“Johnny.”

#this has not been read over and it is 4am so pls overlook any mistakes #simon ghost riley #john soap mactavish #soapghost #ghostsoap #ghost x soap #ghoap #writing

[miupow]

── ★ ˙🍓 ̟ tubatu as fanfic tropes !!

TXT x GN!READER ★ sfw, fluff, lowercase intended, alcohol mention, drunk!yeonjun, talk of marriage, jacket sharing, shy!soobin, kissing in the rain, best friend!taehyun, mentions of fighting (not w txt), meet cute this is a repost from my old blog! reblogs and comments are appreciated ^^

yeonjun -> drunken confessions

"i like you.." yeonjun slurs as you deposit him on the couch, cat eyes half-lidded and unfocused, limbs sprawled out everywhere-- you giggle, push his hair back, pretend he doesn't give you butterflies when his head lolls back and he gives you a lazy grin. "you're drunk." you shake your head, turn to the kitchen to get yeonjun some water, but the boy stops you with a drawn-out whine; "nooo, don't go, i mean it! i like you so much, you're so pretty, we should get married,," "i'm sorry?" you turn back to face him and laugh, cheeks heating up against your will-- you couldn't take a word yeonjun said right then seriously-- "we should get married," yeonjun repeated happily, already half-asleep just sitting on the sofa. "i'll be a good husband, just for you... i'll tell you i love you every day..."

soobin -> take my jacket

"are you cold?" soobin asks gently, frowning as he took in the way you were shaking like a leaf-- you hadn't bothered to grab a coat before agreeing to walk to the convenience store with him, not expecting the dark seoul streets to be this chilly... "i'm okay," you insist, wrapping your arms tight around your middle. "no you're not-- here," soobin scoffs, quick to shrug off his puffy jacket and drape it over your shoulders, "you can wear my jacket as long as you promise to give it back." you opened your mouth to protest, but the words caught in your throat-- soobin's coat was warm, engulfed you completely, and smelled just like him. you felt so cozy and small, wrapped up and surrounded by soobin... "thank you," you mumble into the coat instead, blushing furiously. "you're welcome-- you could catch a cold, you know. you need to be more careful." soobin was quick to hide his face, turning away to look out at the street, but you could see his red ears from a mile away.

beomgyu -> kissing in the rain

"beomgyu, i--" "shut up," he cuts off, diving in to capture your lips with his-- the height difference made you dizzy, beomgyu's deft fingers tilting your head up to face the pouring sky, protected from the rain only by his body melding against your own... it was raining so hard it was difficult to see, your clothes soaked through completely, your body chilled to the bone; you were freezing, shaking violently, but you couldn't bring yourself to care. you dug your fingers into beomgyu's wet hair, deepened your kiss with a lofty sigh he tasted like fireworks. countless tiny explosions overwhelming your senses and like something sweet you couldn't name. "don't tell me to shut up," you retorted when you parted, breathing heavy, fingers still tangled in beomgyu's hair; "you shut up." "okay." beomgyu giggled, leaning in for another kiss.

taehyun -> friends to lovers

“you’re okay, i’ve got you,” taehyun murmured into your hair, holding you tight as you cried into his shoulder— this was the third time he’s been the one to console you after a fight with your boyfriend, and at this point taehyun was really starting to get tired of the guy. “you’re gonna be okay,” taehyun wished you could see how perfect of a boyfriend he could be for you, how much better he would treat you than that jerk… he rubbed your back as you sobbed into his shirt, trying his hardest not to show how irritated he was— how could anyone treat a person this perfect like this? you didn't deserve this, you deserved so much better! he would treat you like royalty, spoil you rotten... if you would let him. but he was terrified that he was one confession away from ruining your friendship. so he'd never say a word. at least, not until the timing was right. he was willing to wait.

hueningkai -> meet cute

"oh, i'm so sorry!" you squeak, disoriented and mortified beyond belief. "i wasn't paying attention--" you weren't even sure where to start, knocked clean on the pavement, contents of your purse scattered everywhere-- and worst of all, your iced coffee spilled all over a complete stranger. And he was so handsome, too!! "no, no, I'M sorry!" he replied, sounding just as flustered as you were. he helped you gather your things, looking so apologetic despite you being the one to bump into him. "i should have looked where i was going!" you couldn't fathom why he felt the need to apologize when he was the one who now had a giant stain on his light colored sweater. "i'm so sorry about your sweater--" you repeated, rummaging around in your bag. "i might have some napkins in here--" "don't worry about it, it's fine!" the stranger giggled, offering you a hand-- you took it hesitantly but gratefully, face heating up at his pretty smile and strong grip. "i'm hueningkai by the way, what's your name?"

#𓂃₊ ⊹ ℕ𝕀𝔾ℍ𝕋𝕃𝕐𝔸𝕎ℕℤℤ . . . #lia's soft hours ☁️ #txt soft thoughts #txt soft hours #txt fluff #txt fanfic #txt scenarios #txt x reader #txt x y/n #txt x you #yeonjun x reader #soobin x reader #beomgyu x reader #taehyun x reader #hueningkai x reader #yeonjun soft thoughts #yeonjun soft hours #yeonjun fluff #soobin soft thoughts #soobin soft hours #soobin fluff #beomgyu soft thoughts #beomgyu soft hours #beomgyu fluff #taehyun soft hours #taehyun soft thoughts #taehyun fluff #hueningkai soft hours #hueningkai fluff #hueningkai soft thoughts

[lovelyverosika]

I keep thinking about his angel eyes

Hazbin Hotel! Adam x Fem!reader

Part 3 —> Part 1 | Part 2

Warnings: talk about self hate

A/N: Here is the part 3 everyone wished for. I decided to make a total of 4 parts, so you sadly still need to wait a bit for the end :,) Like always I’m sorry for any grammar mistakes.

Y/N POV:

I found myself in a room similar to a movie theater. I’m not able to move a single muscle in my body. Suddenly a movie started playing, memories of my life in heaven or more specially about Adam and me. I smiled and felt all warm and fuzzy inside as the memories of our growing relationship were displayed right in front of me.

The first time we met, how we fought at work, how we began to spend more time with each other, our first dates and how he took his mask down for the first time. This may sound exaggerated but that was the proof of how much he trusts me and oh lord was he gorgeous. His golden eyes had me captured the moment I looked into them…his beautiful angel eyes. Nothing was more beautiful than seeing his true emotions reflect in them. Everyone knew him as "The first man" or the self quoted "Dick master" but I know it better. Deep down he’s a insecure soul who’s desperate for admiration and affection, especially after loosing his two previous wives to the same man.

Of course he was a total asshole when I first met him but he changed for the better and that out of his own will, that is something not everyone is willing to do. In a flash of seconds more memories were shown: Our first kiss, anniversary and lastly our wedding. It was a very magnificent day, I never ever thought I will find a lover let alone get married to someone. Everything was just perfect until the court accident today.

Suddenly everything went black. I don’t know where I am or what to feel, this is stranger than any dream or nightmare I ever had. I slowly stood up as a sudden blow of cold air hit me. I wrap my arms around myself as I start walking around in this strange void. All I can hear is my own heartbeat,breathing and the sound of my heels clicking on the ground. After what felt like an eternity I found a single white door in the middle of this nowhere.

Not knowing what else I should do I open the door and enter another black space with a single mirror standing in the middle. This is all so strange and overwhelming I couldn’t prevent myself from tearing up..pathetic that’s what I am. I took a deep breath and walked towards the mirror. I looked like an absolute mess with my eyes puffy from all the crying.

Suddenly the reflection changed in how I used to look like back then in hell. "Helloooo, redeemed or not I’ll always be a part of you.”, my reflection said. I was completely stunned…how is that even possible? "Do you remember what you used to tell your friends back then in hell? You said and I quote: You don’t need to be perfect to be worthy of being loved or deserving a better life. Everyone deserves a second chance and that goes for you too." My old self gave me a big smile and I couldn’t help but smile too.

In a way she is right but accepting yourself is much harder than people say. It takes lots of time, patience and willingness. My reflection gave me a look full of pity before she started to speak. "You probably think he will leave you, hm? Of course that can be an option but would he really? It’s like Rosie said it’s difficult to admit things you’re not proud of but you’re still you. The fact you used to be a demon doesn’t change the person you really are, the person he grew to love and cherish. It seems like we’re running out of time..it was nice seeing the person I became. You’re much stronger than you think.", she chuckled and waved at me. "Farewell Y/N..it’s time to wake up now. Emily must be going insane from how much she worries about you."

My reflection disappeared and left me with a warm feeling inside my heart. With a smile on my face I walked through the mirror and woke up in a bed, which must belong to Emily. In less than a few seconds Emily wrapped her arms around me, hugging me tightly. "You’re awake, I was so scared you wouldn’t wake up.", she said while sniffing onto my chest. I couldn’t help but smile, she’s such a sweetheart. "Shh, I’m here now.", I said while patting her back.

Part 4

#adam x reader #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel adam #hazbin hotel adam x reader #hazbin hotel x reader #x reader

[the-modern-typewriter]

As a long time lover of vampires, I have recently stumbled upon your wee blog and your vampire writings have me feral and unhinged. You truly capture the alluring and terrifying predator that the vampire should be. They are just so *chef's kiss* amazing! Superb!! Thank you for the undead food!!!

"Do you ever get an answer?"

The protagonist startled, head snapping up. The boy was standing only a metre away, in the aisle, smoky and soft in the candlelight. His eyes seemed to burn, pinprick red and gorgeous, with the fire's reflection. He was...well. He was beautiful.

The protagonist quickly looked away. It was wrong to think such things.

"To your prayers," the boy added, with a smile. "Do you ever get an answer? You're here a lot. I've seen you."

The protagonist swallowed. It would be wrong to lie, and a confession of something to say no. Never. It wasn't something they could say to their parents. What if the silence simply meant that they'd done something wrong? Their parents always seemed so sure.

"I've never heard anything back either," he said, in a confiding tone of voice. "I'm always curious if it's just me."

"He has his reasons, I'm sure. I mean, that's what everyone says."

"Well, if everyone says it."

When they looked up again, the boy was closer than before, in the row in front of them, hands resting lightly on the pew separating them. He had nice hands. Elegant. They were nothing like the protagonist's; calloused, nail-bitten, rough. They would probably be very soft to hold.

They realised they were still on their knees and quickly hastened to stand, cheeks flushing. "I didn't mean to interrupt you," they said. "It's not - people aren't normally here at night."

"No," the boy agreed.

"But you are?"

"Insomnia. I don't sleep much."

"The priests don't mind?"

His smile curled up like kindling catching; just as bright. "They think it's dangerous to be out at night in these parts, but it's yet to stop me."

"My parents don't like it either."

"But here you are."

The protagonist shrugged. "We don't live far from the church. And they - well - they like that I come here."

"And nothing bad can happen on hallowed ground, of course."

"Right."

His eyes really were astonishing. Further away from the light of the candles, the protagonist had expected them to grow shadowed like the rest of his face, but they still seemed so bright. Intent, in a way that nobody had ever looked at them, but which sent a delicious shiver down their spine.

The protagonist realised, with a sharp stab of embarrassment, that they'd leaned in.

"It's okay," the boy said. "I think you're real pretty too."

"It's a sin to lie in church." Their face burned, though. Never mind that they should have protested so many other things about the statement.

The boy laughed and that really was pretty. He leaned in a little in turn. Up close he smelled like...like...the protagonist wasn't exactly sure what it reminded them of. Roses wasn't quite right. Neither was the first snow of winter. Yet it was both of those things, and water on stone, and the church itself a little. Something fleeting. Something that had been there forever.

His finger ghosted beneath the protagonist's chin, a caress, a whisper.

"I - I should go," the protagonist said.

"You don't want to though. You want to kiss me."

Was it so embarrassingly obvious, that forbidden thing?

It was true, but the protagonist would never have said it, never have done it, never have even dreamed of something so bold as to kiss a total stranger in the middle of the night. It was so...the priests would surely not approve. It was difficult to think about the priests, about anything else, when he leaned in the rest of the way.

It wasn't a proper kiss. It was another whisper. A yearning.

Hunger.

It sprung inside the protagonist so hard and fast that they were almost winded by it. To kiss this boy. To be held in the hand of something ancient. To lose themselves in something beyond human.

The protagonist blinked. They shook their head, trying to clear it.

The boy kissed them. It was sweet and heady. For a second, his lips were so cold that the protagonist gasped.

In an instant, or maybe it was a long time, the boy had moved. He had taken the protagonist's hand. He had led them to the altar, glittering a dark gold in the night. Time was honey and melted wax. Time was that his lips were still against theirs, and it was all surely wrong, but their first proper kiss didn't feel wrong at all. It felt like the answer to a question they had been screaming for a while.

They were both on their knees, then, somehow. His fingers carded through the protagonist's hair, so gently, so tenderly. His lips trailed a song against the protagonist's throat, a comet path. Hot. Scattering molten stars through their body.

"Pray," he whispered against their ear. "Tell me if you get a fucking answer this time."

Then he sank his fangs into the protagonist's throat.

#idk what to tell you guys #it just happened #vampires #writing #short story #vampire #blood drinking #ficlet #fic #writeblr #short fiction #creative writing #something something I'm a bit obsessed with the idea of gods and vampires and churches

[rwrbmovie]

BTS of #RWRBMovie: Storming Kensington

From HELLO:

For Matthew, this scene was an important one, but one that he felt needed a different energy than what is on the page. "It is very similar and it's also simultaneously very different to the book which I think is just one way of describing this entire movie," he says. "Casey said to me after watching it for the second or third time, 'It's like there's my book, and then there's your movie and the two are very, very similar and also very different,' which is good because if the movie was so faithful to the book, it, I don't even think it would please the fans of the book.  "I know that's probably a controversial thing to say but it wouldn't have served the story very well." He continues: "I needed to observe the logic of a film and trust that I had internalized the emotional truths of the book and the Storming of Kensington in the book is a lot more chaotic and Alex is highly charged.  "When we were in rehearsals, and Taylor and Nick and I began to really delve into that scene, we realized quickly that if Alex came on that strong then Henry, given where he is mentally, would simply say, 'well, get out,' and kick Alex out. So we knew implicitly that we needed to do a different version of that scene, one in which Alex isn't at all certain of success.  "In the book, Alex is willing to burn down the castle in order to get what he wants, and although the scene actually uses a lot of dialogue from the book, our Alex in the film knows that if this doesn't work, their relationship is over. So he's a little more careful with Henry, more fearful, and Henry is more heartbroken, and those decisions really determined everything else that followed in the scene." 

From Glamour:

Galitzine, meanwhile, says his most rewarding time on set came during the film's emotional climax, when Alex and Henry must decide if—and how—they're going to move forward in their relationship. “It's the emotional height of the movie in a lot of ways, and sometimes as an actor, you can very much get in your head about that,” he says. “But Taylor really was just so emotionally present that it helped me. We got to a vulnerable, beautiful space. Those kinds of moments are where you drift into a level of truth and sincerity that feels very real. That's what we're always aiming for.”

From I’ve Never Said this Before With Tommy DiDario:

ML: We had to break for lunch, and we haven't finished the scene and I was really, really worried that we were gonna come back from lunch and I would've lost them and never re-captured what was happening on set before lunch. And it was the pivotal part of the scene, the end where Alex makes an ultimatum to Henry. We got back on set and we started filming again and instantly in the first take, after lunch, Taylor started crying and Nick was facing away from him and he heard Taylor, and Nick started crying. The back half of that scene is so beautiful because they're doing such great work and I really had a difficult time cutting it because there was such beautiful, nuanced work from both of them. What's so remarkable about it is they had just had lunch, and they came right back into it and they were more dialled in, more in touch with each other than before. It was pretty remarkable. I have to say that was the moment I knew that whatever happened with this movie, those two actors would be fine in their careers.

#rwrb movie #rwrbedit #rwrb #red white and royal blue #rwrbsource #nicholas galitzine #taylor zakhar perez #alex claremont diaz #henry #prince henry #ng #tzp #storming kensington #bts #rwrbbts #* #my gifs #the boys

[mrs-weasley-reid]

and this love came back to me

Aaron Hotchner x (former) bau!reader

Summary: A friend's death brings you back to the loving arms of the BAU family. And like a high tide, it also brought back old feelings that Aaron finds difficult to control.

Warning: fluff! cursing, mentions of death, divorce, miscarriage (tell me if I forgot something)

A/N: this can be read as a stand alone but is a part 2 for you're too sweet for me. it's loosely inspired by This Love (Taylor's Version)

— ✦ — ✦ ✦ — ✦ ✦ ✦

The sight of you is like a dream.

Aaron thinks it might've been the haze of loss and woe that was making him see things, but it isn't. His breath hitched audibly. The sound causes David and Spencer to turn to Aaron, following his line of sight to where you stand at the front door.

As your eyes roam in the crowd of people clad in black, Aaron is the first you see. Your eyes are rimming with red heat and overflowing with tears. Your feet race to Aaron, snatching him into a tight hug like the calvary was out to get you, and he is your only lifeline. "Hotch..." Your voice cracks upon his name as you bury your face on his chest, soaking the fabric of his dress shirt like it hadn't been more than a decade since you saw him last.

Shock fills Aaron's chest, but his hands still remember your frame in his arms so well they wrap themselves around your waist like second nature. Lavender and chamomile. You smell just as he remembers. A mixture of solace and gaiety. Your sniffles sound the same. So distinct that his ears itch.

His mind questions whether seventeen years of his life were all a dream and he'd just woken up. Your embrace feels like a day has never gone by, and you two are young and stupid again. Okay, maybe not stupid. You were never stupid. Not a day in your life were you ever stupid. Aaron insists on the thought.

Right then, Aaron decides that you are real because no one else in his life has ever grabbed him into a bone-crushing hug the way you do. Arms wrapped around his neck like vines. Toes pointed at the earth so you could reach his insane height. He can only think of one other person who'd do that: Jack. But the boy could barely wrap his arms around Aaron's legs at the moment, so it was definitely you.

He closes his eyes, and tears quickly trickle down his face like he's been holding it in. He was. He is under the impression that with all the tearful sobs his team has wept, he should at least swallow his. As usual, he wanted to be a strong foundation for the others. A shoulder they can cry on. So, Aaron forbade himself to cry. At least not in front of everyone.

But then your hold is so tight the heartache finally explodes. You roll in with the reminder that he is permitted to cry, too. To feel the sorrow. To crumble like everyone else in the room.

"I came as soon as I heard," You muffle in his shirt, pulling away to wipe your bottomless tears with the back of your hand.

It takes all of Aaron not to hold you back when your body leaves his cold and empty. Your peripheral had caught David's familiar figure, prompting an automatic brain response to capture him into a hug.

Aaron watches as you exit out of David's embrace, forty-five seconds shorter than his. He doesn't let himself think too hard of it. Afraid that he is to get his hopes up for nothing.

David pats your back, "Glad to see you, kid."

There it is.

Your smile.

A smile so bright it blurs out your chapped lips and runny makeup, "I missed you."

Aaron swears he would've fainted if you'd said that to the Aaron Hotchner from seventeen years ago. The one who can't even pluck up the courage to tell you his feelings. As if he's got the prowess to do it now. As if he hasn't been feeling like a schoolgirl, giddy with any kind of affection you offer him in the past three minutes.

For a moment, Aaron let himself indulge in the delusion that you came for him and only him. His bubble burst into a sharp pop in an instant, though. Because then your eyes shift away from him, "I missed everyone." You reiterate with much clearer keywords.

A tug aches Aaron's chest. How can he forget? You are kind to everyone. You are a safe space for everyone. A light for everyone. So, as special as your embrace was for him, it was a normal thing for you.

Then the realization hits him. He was at a funeral, for Pete's sake. He beats himself up mentally. For letting his unrequited feelings for you go rogue like wild animals, hysterical.

Focus, Aaron. He scolds himself.

Your effect on him is still as rabid as ever. He hates it a bit. Blames your perfection in his eyes. Blames himself for still harboring feelings that should've withered years ago. How the love glowed in the darkest depths of his chest as soon as you'd said his name. How a glimpse of you revived every piece of shattered heart. How the high tide of your arrival brought in waves and waves of his feelings back. He claims you are being unfair. Considering the fact that you are oblivious and at no fault.

A cough cuts the reunion short.

Aaron's thoughts dissipate like a fog blown by a violent wind. He mentally thanks the person for bringing him back to reality.

The three of you turn to Derek Morgan. You don't know the man, but you offer him a soft smile—one with your lips closed but curvy enough to be friendly or display an apology—in hopes that he doesn't form the wrong impression of you.

Other faces come into view. Now you wonder who they might be and what special place they hold in Jason Gideon's loving memory. Was he a mentor, a boss, a friend, or a family? Because your senses have never let you down, feeling the capacity of their mourning through their sullen faces and glossy eyes.

Then again, it has been years since you stepped foot on American soil. You aren't sure how many people Jason Gideon made acquaintance with. Maybe you were smiling too widely that it offended people. It's his funeral after all.

Aaron doesn't let your thoughts wander too far, clearing his throat. As if he sensed your insecurities rattle in the pit of your stomach. If you were flushed by it, your puffy face hid it well. He stands between you and the group of people who watched him in detail.

"Everyone, I'd like you to meet an important vessel of the behavioral analysis unit..." Aaron introduces you with great renown. He says your first name with an undertone the team picks up but doesn't mention. "We worked on many cases together when the unit was too small to focus on one case at a time." He turns his entire body to face you. A hand makes its way to the lower of your back as if to tell you that the strangers are safe enough to be in close proximity with. "These are agents Derek Morgan, Jennifer Jareau, Kate Callahan, Dr. Spencer Reid, and tech analyst Penelope Garcia. The A team." He beams with pride like he'd just shown you his golden medals.

Your jaw drops, hands landing over your chest as a soft gasp escapes you. You look between Aaron and David to confirm, earning two series of nods. "This is the team? Like a team, team?" You can't help but tear up from the utter joy that rushed through your veins.

The said team found you overdramatic. They exchange looks between them. A silent conversation, judging whether they should let their eccentric impression of you stick or give you another chance to redeem yourself. They guessed that the death of a friend may have contributed to your screwy image.

Still, a woman with a kind smile and breathtaking beauty doesn't hesitate to approach you. "You can call me JJ," She starts and offers her hand. You shake it firmly like she's about to interview you for a job. "I used to work with Gideon as a liaison. I never imagined that I'd be one of the profilers who'd solve his case." An awkward smile laces atop her lips, also shock with the randomness of her last words.

Wonderment masked your face. The fact you were supposedly at a funeral was forgotten momentarily. You glance at David with twinkling eyes. "A liaison?" You squeal in a whisper.

"Wait until Penelope Garcia shakes your hand," David whispers back as he leans close to you.

You follow his subtle gaze at the other blonde woman across. Technical Analyst. You remind yourself. An amused scoff bounces off your throat.

Aaron chuckles and hands you a square cloth, "A lot has changed since you left. We have a floor to ourselves now." He is unaware of the team's watchful eyes, taking notes of his every motion next to you.

"Oh, I'm sorry," You take his handkerchief and blot your weepy face. "I must look crazy." A bright giggle roars out of you. "It's just... There were only four of us as a unit, and we had to share our workspace with other units. Cases took a lot more time to solve back in the day."

"How long?" Penelope curiously asks, as if it is the most important detail she has yet to hear. She is a sunshine. It takes one to know one. You swear she's glowing despite the dry mascara stain on her face from all the tears early on the day.

"Too long," You shake your head, trailing off as your face flashes a dreadful expression. "I'm just glad all of you were there to solve Jason's case. I really wanted to help, but I had important matters to take care of." You vaguely share. Your mind quickly shoves the thoughts that you deem irrelevant to the moment.

"You knew Gideon?" The tall boy with unruly hair asks with sorrowful eyes. Dr. Spencer Reid. He had a frown on his face.

"You're not the first genius Jason picked up," David quips, causing a chuckle to most except the young doctor.

Spencer throws his gaze somewhere else. He has been impacted by Jason's death more than anyone else on the team. The tear stains on his face had yet to fade. So, joking about Jason still made his heart ache.

You glance at Aaron, asking him all the questions in your head without letting it slip out of your mouth. Your connection never broke. He could hear your questions loud and clear just by meeting your eyes, and it felt euphoric. Still, he concentrates on your airy curiosity, nodding once.

Just like that, your attention drew to Spencer, "He used to beat me in chess." You state at random, making the group quiet.

Spencer offers you a tight-lipped, wistful smile, "Me too."

You walk closer to him with a soft smile and a "has he ever given you tickets?" The two of you took off to another part of the room, chatting, cheering him up just a bit.

Somehow, the small interaction between you and Spencer made Aaron explode in happiness. He doesn't know why exactly, but it felt fatherly. He wasn't too far older than Spencer, but he'd watched him grow into a great profiler. He knew Spencer like the back of his hand, even if bits of Spencer's life were swept under his palm. So, he knew that it wasn't easy for Spencer to be generously welcoming, especially when someone important to his life just died. And when you knew exactly what to say, understood what Aaron's nod meant, it made his heart swollen. You bonded with Spencer in mere seconds as if you were the one to give him life. Aaron adored it. He couldn't explain the reason, but he hoped that Spencer could find refuge with you.

The day wheels into the night. Fewer and fewer people scatter around Stephen Gideon's residence. You find yourself standing by the terrace with David and Aaron, reminiscing the old days, coddling a glass of whiskey.

Aaron is stunned by your choice of alcohol. He remembers you preferring a much sweeter drink.

"I've always liked whiskey," You correct him gently. A laugh forced its way out against the neat liquid sliding down your throat.

"That sounds wrong," Aaron chuckles, "I swear you even hated it with a passion."

You give him a weird look with a subtle grin, "You must be thinking of someone else because Jason and I like the same exact brand of whiskey. You're getting old, Hotchner." You tease, hiding the butterflies in your stomach.

Aaron's eyes widen as he points an accusatory finger at you, "Jason introduced me to whiskey! You're definitely lying!"

"Well, duh!" You roll your eyes, "It's Jason. He's practically our father." You state, straightening your back as you lean against the railing. The wind whips across your face.

"So, what? I was just a fly on the wall? I'm starting to regret calling you back home." David interjects, spreading his arms as he furrows his brows. He caters to his own glass in the comfort of a chair.

"You're mother bird. Everybody knows that," You grin. The urge to cry has finally stopped. Though, you suspect it was the jet lag and hunger from the ghastly flight.

The three of you fell into fits of laughter. Well, just you. Aaron and David only had wide grins on their faces. After all these years, they still refused to laugh loudly. You didn't mind it, though. Because you felt at home.

Aaron nudges your shoulder, "How'd you get here so fast? If I'm not mistaken, the flight from Paris to Virginia is at least nine hours long." He tries to sound casual, like he hadn't looked up the distance long ago and that, for some reason, he kept the knowledge tucked in one of the wrinkles in his brain.

A smug grin made its way to your face, "Does the BAU have a jet?" You brag, sipping your glass empty as you raise your chin with pride.

"You'd be surprised," David takes the liberty to respond, shaking his head while his brows raise in disbelief. A ring brings his attention to his phone on the table but continues to finish his thoughts out loud. "The team's filled with young people now, and suddenly, I'm ancient history. Hold on, you two. I need to take this." And he slips back inside the house to find a quieter space.

You and Aaron exchange looks.

A smile slowly lifted the ends of his lips. It was a handsome sight.

It felt like time had stopped.

You break from his gaze, "So? How's everything? How long has it been? Like, thirteen—"

"Seventeen," Aaron cuts you off, nonchalantly drowning his throat with liquor.

You blink, "That long?" He nods at the air. "Damn, Hotch. You're making me feel old." You nudge his side, though you barely caused any impact. Your brows are drawn as if you aren't certain whether to take it lightly or feel slightly offended.

He rolls his eyes. Had his team know how much of his expressive side had the habit of showing every time he was with you, they'd start a riot.

"You didn't age a day. You still look young." You still look beautiful.

"Flattery won't get you access to the French database, Hotch. You know that." You kid, playing with the ice cubes in your glass. The clinking sound makes you smile. You convince yourself it was the reason, at least.

"You caught me," Aaron says in a sarcastic tone. He lets the silence sink in for a moment, spoiling himself with your presence for a brief moment. Just for a second, he wants to keep the moment to himself. Just the two of you. Just you and him.

And when he felt satisfied enough, he brought his life into the mix, "I got married." He almost jumps from his spot at the sudden snap of your neck. You beam with excitement, encouraging him to say more. "Haley... she was a great woman, person. We have a son, Jack. He's nine years old."

You looked like a child listening to a fairytale. You pat his shoulder, "Hotch, that's so amazing! Are they here? Did you bring them with you?" You glance inside the sliding glass door, scanning the crowd.

He should've continued talking. "W-we... We got divorced, and... she died," Aaron's voice got lower with each syllable, completely soundless by the end of his sentence. He doesn't know why he feels shame. It has been years, and even if it still makes him sad sometimes, Aaron takes pride in the fact that Haley sacrificed her life.

"What?" The excitement plummets off your chest.

Aaron takes a big gulp. You'd missed so much it became difficult to tell you more. "She died. Five years ago." He clears his throat, "But I'm okay now. Jack and I are doing well on our own."

Your expression softens, and a hand unconsciously sits atop his hand, "I'm so sorry, Hotch." You squeeze his hand. Part of you felt guilty for feeling excited, for getting ahead of yourself like usual. You fear that your enthusiasm may have caused Aaron triple the heartache he is already feeling.

"It's a long time ago. I'm really fine. Jack's growing up like a spitting image of her. He's an amazing kid." He doesn't want to bring the mood down. He's honest when he says that he feels fine. "Enough about me. How about you? Do you have anyone waiting in France? Any kids?" If he can recall, you always told him how badly you wanted to have a family.

You lick your lower lip into a thin purse. You gaze at the evening view of the backyard with a heavy sigh, loosening your shoulders, "I was going to..." Aaron's brows scrunched at the way you phrased your response, but he didn't say anything. "Before I became the chief, I was part of the undercover agents. Days before my new assignment, I found out that I was pregnant. Louis wanted me to take a break from work, but I insisted that I work. The day I learned I was going to have a boy, I got caught in a crossfire. I tried to fight for him, but it was either me or him." You release a heavy sigh, "The doctors chose me. They chose wrong... Louis blamed me for losing our baby. I still do, too. We had a hard time bouncing back up after that. We just finalized our divorce yesterday." You smile weakly at Aaron, masking the hurt that pierced every inch of your heart. You quickly swipe the single drop of tear that managed to trail down your cheek.

Aaron glances at your intertwined hands. He feels guilty for liking it despite the dense atmosphere of your conversation. So, he lets go of it to snake an arm around your shoulders, giving you a tight side hug. "Don't say that, sweetheart..." The endearment rolls off his tongue like butter. He doesn't dwell on it, eager to lessen your pain. "I'm certain that he's glad you lived. He wouldn't have liked the world if he never got the chance to be raised by you." He starts to imagine how awful Louis looks and how much Aaron would make him look worse. He's barely known the guy, but he despises how horrible he's treated you at the time you needed a loving husband the most.

The next thirty minutes became quiet, and Aaron thought that maybe catching up wasn't such a great idea. He should've known that your lives weren't exactly on the greener side.

Then he wonders what life would've been if you hadn't left. He shakes his head. Despite the unrequited love he had for you, he still loved Haley with all his heart and would never change anything if it meant Jack being born. He assumes you'd think the same.

"I sometimes wish I came back here, you know." You blurt out as if you are reading straight from his mind like a book, breaking the silence. "I missed out on so much. Your wedding. You becoming a father. David's other weddings... Jason. I wish I was here for everything." You lean your head against him, letting his warmth spread on your skin. "I don't regret going to France or anything that happened in my life, but I wish I could've been in both places at the same time."

Aaron nods, "Yeah, it would've been nice to have you here." He thinks otherwise because he wishes you stayed. He hoped that despite his cowardness, he'd got you around the block and not a continent away.

He takes it up to himself to change the topic into a lighter tone.

He starts talking about Jack and the satisfying struggles of fatherhood. He shows you videos and photos from his phone. You are engaged in a heartbeat, laughing at the littlest humor he'd throw in. You adored his son. That made Aaron beam with pride. Granted, a lot of people have told him the same thing, but coming from you, it was like he'd received an accolade.

Somewhere in the evening, Stephen steals you from Aaron's company. You're easily filled with joy at the sight of an old friend, ignoring the fact that Jason's son used to have a childish crush on you. Other old acquaintances got a hold of you, too.

Aaron never got to see you again for the rest of the evening.

— ✦ — ✦ ✦ — ✦ ✦ ✦

It has been eleven months since Aaron last saw you when his peripheral caught your figure as soon as he stepped inside David's home.

"She's with the team," David announces casually.

Aaron's brows knit together as he brings his gaze back to David, "What's that?"

"I said she's with the team," David repeats, glancing down the hallway. "You better catch her before she leaves. I got lucky when I called her. She's about to take her flight back to France. This is why I set an arrival time—" Before he could finish his last sentence, Aaron was already halfway down.

Jack Hotchner watches as his father speedwalks inside David's house, "Is Dad okay?" He looks up at David with worried eyes.

"He's alright," David pats Jack's head. "See, kiddo. Your dad used to have a crush on someone before he married your mom."

"Is she pretty? Is she nice?" Jack queries.

David smiles, "How about you decide yourself?" He guides the young Hotchner toward the center of the celebration.

Meanwhile, you are in the middle of wishing Dr. Tara Lewis good luck for her new place in the BAU when Aaron calls your name. You pivot on your heels. A smile instantly brightens your face at the sight of Aaron, "Hotch!" You exclaim, engulfing him in a hug.

"You should've told me you were in the area." Aaron's grin is brighter than yours.

Unbeknownst to him, a couple of watchful profilers keep their eyes peeled at you and Aaron.

"Are they?" Tara trails off next to Penelope.

"They worked on many cases together," Penelope replies suggestively, wiggling her brows as she sips from her swirly straws.

JJ grins at the conversation, "He's like an entirely different person with her. Think of Spencer." She hides a grin behind her glass of wine.

Spencer furrows his brows as he looks at JJ. "Should I be offended?" He clutches the mug of eggnog close to his chest.

"No," JJ shakes her head defensively, elongating the last letter. The others erupt into silent chuckles.

Derek nudges Penelope while he's got an arm wrapped around Savannah, nodding towards you and Aaron's direction, "Look. Hotch is about to introduce Jack to her. How much are you betting he's trying to get Jack's approval? Will Jack even like her? She looked crazy at first—Ow!" He rubs the side Savannah just elbowed, wincing.

Jack shyly stands in front of his father as he looks up at you. You had no doubt he looked a lot like his mother now that you'd meet him in person. You don't forget about Aaron, though, because they had matching eyebrows that narrow every time they attempt to read someone intently.

You squat down to Jack's height, "Nice to meet you, Jack. Your dad has told me a lot of great things about you!" You rummage into your bag, fishing out a huge peppermint lollipop disk. "I didn't expect to meet you today, so I wasn't prepared to bring a gift you'd like, but you can have this if you want it."

Jack glances at his dad from behind him and then back to you. A wide smile spreads across his face as he takes the sweet from you, "I like this one, too! Thank you!" You almost stumble down when he launches to hug you.

"You're welcome!" Your giggle echoes in the entire house. You hadn't expected him to attack you with a hug, let alone a stranger you'd identify yourself as.

Aaron couldn't help but feel overjoyed. He doesn't know how to keep his heart from beating faster as you glance at him with a tooth-rottenly sweet smile while hugging his son.

You really were unfair to him.

He's hopeless. A lost cause. He should've known from years ago. Should've known that you'd leave a permanent mark on him.

"Dad," Jack gestures for Aaron to get down. He leans close as soon as his father oblige to his command, covering his mouth.

Aaron's eyes subtly widen. His ears burn into a beet-red blush. He clears his throat, "How about you say hi to the others? Play with Henry and Reid, okay?" He dismisses, ignoring the innocent words that rang in his ears. He gently pushes Jack toward the team's direction.

"He's such a sweetheart," You say as you get back on your feet. You glance at Aaron, "You're doing amazing. He's lucky to have you." You turn to the team. Laughters passed between one another. "They're all lucky to have you." You add, crossing your arms on your chest.

"She's good," Savannah nods in amazement. She's only heard of you from Derek but can finally see the difference in Aaron's demeanor the moment he caught a glimpse of you.

"Who randomly has a giant lollipop in their bag?" Derek states in disbelief, the total opposite of how Savannah reacted. He hands JJ a ten-dollar bill, though.

Spencer shrugs, "I would've been way nicer to her if she offered me one last time." He pouts at the sight of Jack waving the lollipop like a taunt.

JJ and Tara laugh.

"Oh, shoot!" You exclaim, twisting your wrist to glimpse at the time. "I still have to pass by somewhere before my flight. Say bye to Dave for me, yeah?" The rush makes you quite frantic, pulling Aaron in. You leave a peck on his cheek, patting his shoulders like it's tradition. "Merry Christmas, Aaron." You bid farewell with a smile and began to walk.

"Wait—" Aaron grabs your wrist. It's so small in his hand. He makes sure he held you tight in a gentle grip. The last thing he wants is to break your wrist.

Your body recoils a few steps back to him as a product of his pull. "Yes?" Anticipation sparks in your eyes as you wait for his response. You must've drank wine too fast because electricity surged through veins, all coming from his firm hold.

A huge lump forms in his throat. "I—" Suddenly, Aaron is tongue-tied.

I want you to stay.

He fights hard to swallow the rock that kept him from talking and clearing his throat. "I'll walk with you," He wishes the ground would swallow him whole. But he suspects that even the devil himself is too embarrassed for him to let him in.

"Oh..." You don't know why you felt disappointed. What were you even expecting in the first place? You flash a smile, though. "Sure."

— ✦ — ✦ ✦ — ✦ ✦ ✦

Aaron stays at David's for two more hours before he decides that Jack needs to catch up on some sleep before they leave for Jessica's place in the morning. So, he drives through the light traffic, listening to Jack sing along the radio.

Jingle Bell Rock had just ended, and the DJ interjects for an update about the evening traffic during the transition to the next song when Jack asks a question. "Where did your crush go, Dad?" He inquires all too nonchalantly.

"What did you say?" It takes everything in Aaron to will his eyes to stay on the road and his hands to keep complete control of the wheel. He glances at Jack from the rearview mirror.

"The pretty, nice lady who gave me this," Jack hoists the lollipop in his hand like a wand. He takes a taste of it and adds, "You think she likes Christmas movies? Can we invite her?"

Aaron blinks fast. He couldn't believe how much Jack had grown fond of you in only minutes of interacting with him. He ponders whether you're some kind of a witch. He clears his throat in an obvious fake cough, "I'm sure she'd love to, buddy."

"Can you call her to come back? We can invite her for hot cocoa!"

"Sorry, buddy," Aaron feels bad. He doesn't even know your phone number, even if he could get it within seconds from Penelope. "She had to go and do some work. Maybe n-next time." He isn't sure why he was stuttering in front of his child.

"You didn't ask her to stay?"

It felt like a freezing wave of water filled with ice washed over Aaron. Then, for a moment, he feels proud to know that Jack's innocence has given him the bravery Aaron couldn't even muster.

"No, bud... I didn't." He admits more melancholy to a nine-year-old than he intended to.

Jack sighs, "Aww. Yeah, maybe next time, Dad. I'm sure she'll like to hang out with you if you give her a lollipop. She'll think you're nice. It worked for me. I think she's really nice." He stares at the molded sugar in his hand.

Aaron couldn't believe his son was talking some sense into him. Where did the time go? Jack sounds more mature than Aaron has ever felt for months since he's seen you after years. He tightens his grip on the wheel, clenching his jaw from the sudden torrent of courage that blazes his chest.

"Jack, would you mind passing by somewhere before we go home?"

The boy shakes his head, "It's okay as long as you're okay with me staying past my bed time." Jack giggles.

Aaron chuckles, "I'll let it slide this time," He jests, then turns the wheel and heads to the airport.

You come back from the restroom, looking for a place to sit and wait, when a small figure wraps his arms around your torso, "Jack? What are you doing here? Are you by yourself? Are you okay?" You quickly scan him from head to toe. You could barely move from the way he held you.

He's okay. You tell yourself. Had he been hurt you weren't sure how to face his father.

"I found her, Dad!" Jack shouts, earning looks from exhausted patrons. He leans backwards but still tangled around your legs like his life depended on it.

You panic for a second. Unsure what to make out of his statement. You look around first to mutter an apology on behalf of the boy, but somewhere along the lines you felt like you were a mother denying her child.

"Great job, Jack." You hear a voice so familiar you needn't have to look up to confirm your guess. Aaron walks closer to the two of you out of breath. He tries to play it out but the rise and drop of his shoulders didn't pass your gaze.

You lift your vision up and meet with Aaron's heaving self. "Hotch? What's going on? Is everything okay?" You coax like you aren't sure if he's going to tell you the truth.

Aaron tucks a portion of his lower lip. Fuck. He ran out of courage. His throat is tight. His brain is frozen. His body is stiff.

Jack takes his father's hand and pulls him closer to where you stood. He looks up at you, "Dad has a crush on you. I also think you're nice. Can you watch Christmas movies and drink hot cocoa with us, please?" He says intelligently like he's tired of his father freezing on the spot whenever he faces you.

Your brows knit together, but a huge grin raises the ends of your lips. "He what?" You meet Aaron's blushing gaze. You've never seen his neck, face, and ears glow in rosy red except that one time during an undercover case.

Aaron melts into a chuckle, lowering his head. "I, uh..." He scoffs a laugh, "I can't believe you heard it from Jack first." He meets your eye once more, "Would you mind staying for a bit?" It's clear he has no idea what he was doing. He thinks he's about looking idiotic in front of many people and, most importantly, his son.

You hear your name from below, looking down at Jack as he gestures for you to go down. You do as he says, leaning close when he moves next to your ear, "Dad is very shy, but he really likes you. He smiles when he talks to you. I think he would be happy if you hang out with us." Jack whispers so well Aaron is left to wonder.

"You really think so?" You ask audibly for the sake of Aaron's sanity. You ruffle Jack's hair as he nods eagerly. "I don't mind at all," You smile at Aaron so sweet he feels euphoric.

All three of you leave the airport. The traffic then has grown more difficult to maneuver into, and by the time Aaron parks his car in the driveway, Jack is already ten minutes in his sleep.

You chuckle as you both turn to the backseat, "I stand corrected," You smirk, "I think you're lucky to have him."

"Yeah," Aaron titters, "He's a lot braver than me." He adds gently, reaching out to fix Jack's hair.

A comfortable silence basks the two of you. Jack's soft breathing faintly rings in the background as if both of you had to make sure he's there.

Aaron looks at you, though. He relishes the way the dim light from outside casts a shadow on your face. He loves the way your soft features are still visible despite the dark. "Stay," He blurts out.

"Sure, I'll stay 'til I find another flight—"

"No, I meant..." He struggles to swallow the saliva in his mouth. "I want you to stay. Here... with me." Aaron shifts his eyes down on the gearstick. "I'm not saying that I never loved Haley, but I never stopped loving you." He's sure that no normal person would declare their love the way he just did. He hoped that some foreign spaceship would open the roof of his car and take him away. "I don't know if I make sense. I'm certain that I'm ruining my chances the more I speak, but I want you to stay. I should've asked you to stay a long time ago."

Your gaze sinks into Aaron's eyes. You tuck your lips. Then, you smile. "I agree," You acknowledge, moving your eyes on his lips for a milisecond.

Aaron straightens his back, "I know it's been years," He babbles a laugh, moving his hands as he speaks. "It's okay if you don't— wait—" He blinks once or twice. "Did you just agree? To what exactly?" Only you can make him stumble on his own thoughts.

"I'll stay," You declare, biting the inside of your lower lip. You scoff a silent laugh, "I should've done this a long time ago."

"Done what?" Aaron narrows his brows.

Your gaze jumps between his eyes and his lips, "This," You cup his face with both your hands, clashing your lips like he's in need of saving from a true love's kiss.

Aaron melts into your hold. Not long does he track his hands up your shoulders. Then, to your back, pulling you closer. His hands travel all over you, exploring every inch.

All his life he's seen you as some idea of sweet poison. But as his lips dance with yours, he couldn't ignore the lingering bitter taste of whiskey. He laughs into the kiss. He's been ignorant, wrapped in a saccharine image of you. Was he so wrong for that.

He claims you're still too sweet for him, but was he so glad you came back to him.

Jack moves in his sleep. You both freeze on the spot, lightly pushing Aaron to create space between you.

A soft giggle echoes from your lips, leaning your forehead against his shoulder, "We should bring him upstairs."

"I think that's a good idea," Aaron quips. He unbuckles his seatbelt and opens his door, but before he gets out, he steals another peck on your lips.

#aaron hotchner #ssa aaron hotchner #fem!reader #criminalminds #criminal minds #aaron hotchner fic #aaron hotch x reader #aaron hotch x you #hotch #aaron hotch imagine #aaron hotchner fluff #hotch x reader

[moonstruckme]

Hiii! I love your writing so much! I was wondering if you could write a poly!marauders x fem!reader where they have curly hair and they offhandedly mention wishing they didn’t or that they are thinking of getting it chemically straightened or something and all the boys are just like 😱 “don’t you dare” and super over dramatic bc they love her hair. Thank you!!

Thanks for requesting lovely!

poly!marauders x fem!reader ♡ 695 words

You smooth more product into your hair, blowing out a harsh breath when the stubborn curl springs back up from the top of your head anyway. 

“Argh!” You press your hands to your eyes, feeling on the brink of tears. “I cannot deal with this right now.” 

“What is it?” Remus asks from where he’s sitting on the bathroom rug, watching the rest of you get ready. 

“My hair isn’t cooperating.”

“It looks fine to me,” James says, and then at the ferocious look you send him, he adds hastily, “More than fine. Gorgeous, perfect. Just like you.” 

“It’s this frizz,” you huff. “I just want it to look neat for one night, is that too much to ask? This is ridiculous.” You seize a pair of scissors, thinking to simply cut the curl—there may be consequences in the long run, but damn it, you just want it to look decent now—but Sirius grabs your wrist.

“What are you doing?” He wrestles the scissors from you. “Shit, baby, it doesn’t look bad at all! Don’t get so riled up.” 

“You don’t get it,” you say, knowing you sound childish but too frustrated to care. “It’s unmanageable. It’s too much work, all of the time! There’s this thing where you can get it chemically straightened, I think I’m going to do that.” 

Sirius had started bringing his eyeliner pencil to his lash line, but it goes straight down his cheek at your words. “What?”

“Sweetheart,” James says, sounding appalled, “you can’t!”

“Why not?” You really want to know. Why shouldn’t you do the thing that’d make your life so much easier?

“Be—because,” he insists. “It’s your hair!”

“Dove.” Even Remus seems upset, a concerned line appearing between his brows. “Your hair is so lovely, why would you want to make it less unique?”

“None of you have to deal with wrangling it every day,” you grumble, attempting again to smooth down the rebellious curl and pointing at it accusingly when it boings back up. 

“Shit, I’ll do it,” Sirius says, batting your hands away and beginning to fuss over your hair. He hasn’t wiped away his eyeliner, and it sweeps down his cheek like a comically gothic teardrop. “If it’ll keep you from ruining it with chemicals, I’ll do your hair for you every day.” 

“You won’t want to,” you say darkly. “You’ll get sick of it soon. It’s impossible, it never behaves when you want it to.” 

James sets his chin on your shoulder, pouting at you in the mirror. “I think it looks cool when it doesn’t behave. It’s curly, part of the appeal is that it doesn’t have to be neat.” 

The compliments wash over you without your noticing. “But what if I want to look nice?” 

“You always look nice, darling,” Remus sighs, rolling his eyes like you’re being difficult. “And James is right. Your hair might not always look sleek or perfectly smooth, but it has its own personality. Don’t get upset with it because of its nature. Be nicer to it, hm?” 

You’re about to argue with him again, but Sirius takes your chin in his hand, turning your head and capturing your lips with his. His mouth is insistent on yours, and James snickers as you make a low, whiny sound. Sirius looks at you evenly as he pulls back, leaving his thumb on your chin.

“Let me deal with it,” he says firmly, “and when I’m done, it’s going to look so pretty you’re going to wonder why you ever thought of changing it.” 

You don’t reply, but he recognizes your silence for the assent it is, taking the errant curl and beginning to braid it into a small section of your hair. 

“Ooh, I like that,” James says, watching Sirius’ deft fingers in the mirror. “Moons, will you let me do that to yours?”

Remus sighs as though it comes at a great cost, but agrees, moving to sit down in front of James so that he can receive the same princess treatment you are. 

“See, dovey?” He looks up at you, smirking. “Now if you say your hair doesn’t look good, you’ll be insulting us both.”

#poly!marauders #poly!marauders x fem!reader #poly!marauders x reader #poly!marauders x y/n #poly!marauders x you #poly!marauders fanfiction #poly!marauders fanfic #poly!marauders fic #poly!marauders imagine #poly!marauders drabble #poly!marauders scenario #poly!marauders oneshot #james potter #james potter x reader #sirius black #sirius black x reader #remus lupin #remus lupin x reader #poly!marauders x self insert #the marauders #marauders #marauders fanfiction #marauders era #the marauders era #marauders fanfic #marauders fic #marauders fandom #marauders x reader #hp marauders

[evermoresqueiswriting]

riptide

“I was scared of dentists and the dark I was scared of pretty girls and starting conversations Oh, all my friends are turning green You're the magician's assistant in their dream”

summary: going on the camp's field trip to olympus because clarisse asked you to, meeting your father and clarisse's father and also, there are new updates from camp - luke gone, and percy's arrival

pairing: clarisse la rue x f!reader

word count: 6.7k (14 year old me would never believe me if i said i casually wrote a 6k chapter)

tags: mostly fluff, tiny splash and angst

series masterlist 3/?

The date ended really late – you fell asleep on the beach, and Clarisse didn’t have the heart to wake you up. She didn’t dare, you looked too peaceful to disturb. You loved taking naps and whenever you were around Clarisse, you felt safe enough to do so. By the time you woke up, it was already dark, and Clarisse had put your blouse back on you because it started to get chilly. When you realised what time it was, you hurried Clarisse and grabbed all your bags before leaving the beach. 

The ride back home was quite long, and once you got into camp, it was really quiet. You and Clarisse tried to be quiet, and walked slowly towards your cabins, but then you heard footsteps. Both of you whipped around. Chiron, hands on his hip and Mr D, standing next to him. 

“Hi,” you waved.

Clarisse swiftly grabbed your hand to put it down. 

“You missed the curfew,” Mr D said.

“What– What curfew? There was one?” you hesitated, looking at Clarisse.

“Yes,” Mr D continued, “it was written, black on white, that you should be home before 9pm. And it’s, would you look at that,” he showed you his watch-less wrist, “it’s past 11!”

“We– I didn’t know,” you explained, “I- I mean– I can’t read and neither can she.”

Chiron shook his head, and Clarisse stepped in front of you, shielding you from their disappointed faces. 

“We’re sorry, we didn’t see the time.”

Your hand was grabbing tightly onto Clarisse’s arm.  

“Go back to your cabins and rest,” Chiron said.

“Yeah, cause you’ll need it for the cleaning duties you’ll get for the whole week or month, I still haven’t decided yet haha,” Mr D finished and walked away. 

You were once again alone. You sighed.

“I’m sorry,” you mumbled, not daring to look at her. 

“What for?”

“I should’ve read the whole letter, I should've known and now because of me you’ll have cleaning duties for maybe a whole month!”

“I don’t mind, I had a great time today,” you raised your head up at this, “I’ll do another month again if it means we get to do that again.”

“Really?” you smiled.

“Really, now go to sleep.”

It ended up being a whole month of cleaning duties, but neither of you cared because you got to be together.

Your summer was split between three people, Clarisse, Will and Lee. 

Fighting and combat with Clarisse. Clarisse was ruthless, not letting you rest for a bit, always pushing you to your limits. She had one thing in mind and that was for you to be the best version of yourself. You were progressing fast which she was extremely proud of. Just like Luke said, you were a natural fighter, and everyone noticed that during Capture the Flag. You went from hiding behind Clarisse the whole time from leading the fight. 

Archery lessons from Lee. Lee was also very insistent as a teacher. Never letting you rest. 

“Hitting a still target is easy, a child could do it,” Lee told you in his first lesson. “But no monster is going to stay still for you to hit it at your pace. So, we’ll practise on moving targets, fast and unpredictable ones.”

And he was right, it was much more difficult. There was no time for you to prepare, and see where the wind went. But after some practice, it was easier. He was a good teacher, after all. You were tired and sore at the end of every day, which seemed a bit excessive for a fun, safe, summer camp for half bloods. They looked like they were preparing you for war at this pace. And when you had some free time, you spent it with Cornelia painting and playing old board games they had in the cabins. It was a great way to relax. 

Alongside sharpening your skills, you also spent an absurd amount of time at the infirmary with Will. Michael was the one teaching you everything, with a tiny Will following you there too. He was absorbing information at an incredible pace.

“Isn’t he a bit young to be learning all of this?” you asked Michael.

“Yeah, but he’s good at it, so who cares? Surely not Mr D.”

Will was a really nice kid, and obviously a natural healer. With the two of you at the infirmary, Michael was able to leave for longer periods of time. Will and you often held karaoke afternoons while cleaning the infirmary. And this time, it was your turn to choose the song. So, You and Will were dueting ‘august’ by Taylor Swift when someone came in.

“But do you remember? Remember when I pulled up and said, "Get in the car" And then canceled my plans just in case you'd call? Back when I was livin' for the hope of it all, for the hope of it all "Meet me behind the mall" Remember–” you sang with Will. 

“You’re having fun here,” Clarisse leaned on the doorframe. 

You screamed, and turned around. 

“Clarisse! Hi,” Will waved.

She gave you a questioning look. They had never met.

“This is Will Solace, my brother,” you smiled.

“Yeah, y/n talks about you all the time!” Will smile proudly, before you shoved him aside.

“Betrayal, I said all of these things in confidence, but whatever,” you dragged him outside. “Go grab some more supplies, we’re missing ambrosia.”

“But it’s ful–.”

You slammed the door. 

“He doesn’t know what he’s saying,” you laughed, turning back to Clarisse. 

“Sure,” she smirked. 

“What are you doing here anyway?”

“I forgot to give you something.”

“A gift?” you beamed.

She took out a small tissue bag from her pocket and handed it to you. You opened it, and let the object slip into your palm. A ring.

“Are you proposing?” you joked. 

She rolled her eyes, and smiled. 

“I watched you pick this size when choosing yours, so you shouldn’t lose this one.”

“Thank you, it’s so pretty I love it!” you put it on your left index. 

Clarisse had the one you gave her on her necklace. 

“Great, don’t lose it.”

“I won’t!”

And just like that – in the blink of an eye –  summer was over, and it was time for you to leave camp and go back home. You knew it was time to leave when Mr D started yelling that those who weren’t staying for the year to leave immediately because he had enough of seeing you bunch. When you walked away from your cabin, you noticed Clarisse was already waiting for you at the entrance of camp.

“I guess this is goodbye,” she smiled.

“Until October, for the field trip,” you corrected her. “I talked to Mr D and he said it was ok for me to come. So really it’s only two months away! And I’ll send letters, I’m sure Hermes Express have those next day delivery types of… offers?”

“Sure.”

You fiddled with your fingers. 

“I’m going to miss you,” you admitted. “And I’ll miss Capture the Flag and being on your team, and I’ll miss sparing with you, and I’ll miss… seeing you everyday.”

Her eyes softened. 

“Only two months, like you said.”

You nodded. Then, hesitantly, you opened your arms. 

“What?” Clarisse frowned. 

“We should hug goodbye.”

She had her arms crossed, but then she uncrossed them and you went to wrap your arms around her torso. She hesitantly wrapped her arms around your shoulders. When her arms loosened, you let go. 

“I’ll see you soon Clarisse,” you squeezed her arm, before walking away.

“See you soon sunshine,” Clarisse watched you walk away, “I’ll miss you too,” but you were already too far away to hear it. 

Once you were back home, the first thing you did was to go find your mom’s old walkerman. You had to go search the old boxes your mom had put away in the attic – it was difficult but worth it.

“Why do you need this?” your mother asked once you came out of the attic with her walkerman. 

“It’s for— my friend?”

“Clarisse?”

“Yes. Clarisse.”

When you told your mother about your summer at camp, it had included a lot of Clarisse related stories. 

“And I told her I’d send letters so we could keep in touch, but now I realise I can’t write for the life of me, and even if I did write something, she’s spent too much time trying to decipher what I wrote, and it's just not– good. So I thought I’d send her this,” you waved the walkerman, “and I’d buy empty cassettes to record things, and send pictures along with it.”

“Oh, that’s a very nice thing to do,” she nodded. 

“Oh! I forgot to tell you– to ask you really. Hm, there is this field trip at camp… in october. It’d be during the halloween vacations, so I won’t miss school. Can I go, please?”

“Sure, I don’t see why not.”

Well that was easy. 

So every week, you’d record what you did and update Clarisse about your life, you’d take pictures and buy her favourite snacks — you tried out a lot during your date — and ship it to camp half-blood. Clarisse would also send you pictures. The dinner, pictures of Will and behind one of his pictures he’d written ‘i miss u <3’ on the back, people training, their win at Capture the Flag, and you’d keep everything in a box dedicated to Clarisse. 

Two months. Two months at camp went by fast, too fast even. But two months at school, minus your friends and the fun at camp, it was slow. You woke up every day at 6:45am, got ready and left for school, came back around 5:50pm and did your homework, ate, washed-up, and then scrolled on twitter, fighting with random accounts, and then went to sleep. Your routine was boring to no end, but you tried so you could have things to tell Clarisse. But life outside of camp was boring and your mother could see that.

“You know, if you wanted to stay at camp for the whole year, I wouldn’t stop you.”

Oh.

“But, what about you then? I don’t want you to live alone in this big ass mansion.”

“I’m an adult, I’ll be fine,” she reassured you.

“I won’t, knowing you’ll be alone.”

Your mom wasn’t on good terms with her parents after they learned that she’d be raising a kid alone, without marriage or even a boyfriend. After you were born, they did visit and spent time with you, but never with your mom, their daughter. So she couldn’t even call them to come live with her. You weren’t going to abandon her when she only has you. 

“I–,” she put her chopsticks down, “I met someone at work.”

“What! What does that mean?”

“It means, I’ve been seeing someone.”

“Oh my– you’re trying to get rid of me to have—” you stared at her, mouth wide open from shock, “sex,” you mouthed. 

“Oh grow up y/n, I’m an adult, where do you think you came from.”

“Uh– rude.”

“I’m just saying, this is your last year in high school, if next year you want to stay at camp, you can.”

“And you’d be fine with it?”

She nodded.

“What if I want to stay here, at home?”

“Then you’d stay here, as long as you want, this is your home as well.”

“I’ll– I’ll think about it.”

And then it was finally time to leave for camp again. Your mom drove you to the airport and you left with your suitcase in hand. It was the longest flight ever, and the cab seemed to be driving even slower than a snail. An old lady on foot was faster than this, but then you were finally there. 

“Are you sure this is where you want to get out?” the cab driver asked, seeing the empty road.

“Yes,” you gave him the money, “keep the change, bye.”

When you arrived at camp, Chiron was waiting for you at the entrance already, and you greeted him happily. 

“How was the trip to camp?” 

“Great. Long and tiring for sure, but I’m so excited too.”

“Good, we’re going to leave soon, you can go put your things in your cabin first.”

The first one to spot you was Cornelia, and she came running to hug you. And then Will came in very quickly to give you a hug as well. 

“I missed you guys so much,” you smiled. 

“I wish you were staying here all the time,” Will said. “I’m all alone at the infirmary.”

“You’re leaving him alone?” you gasped at Michael. 

“He kicked me out! Said you had a whole system going on there and I wasn’t following it correctly.”

“He also wasn’t doing karaoke afternoons with me,” Will told you.

“How dare he. That’s ‘cause he has no taste.”

“I can hear you,” Michael stood beside you.

“Do you mind? I’m having a private conversation.”

“Yeah do you mind, we’re having a private conversation,” Will repeated. 

It felt great to be at camp – it felt safe, familiar and comforting. You put your suitcase beside your bed, and grabbed some chocolate bars  from your backpack and put them in your pocket. Will, who stayed by your side, pleaded with his eyes to get one too and you couldn’t resist. 

“I’ll give you more later,” you promised him.

You left your cabin with your siblings as it was time to leave camp. Everyone was on their way to the entrance. You looked around, hoping to catch Clarisse, and there she was, way ahead of you. You turned around, facing your siblings and after a brief “see you up there”, you ran off. 

Clarisse was talking to her brother, and she looked around for you. She was expecting you to be beside Chiron at the entrance, but you weren't. Maybe you were late? When suddenly, she felt someone jump on her back, and her immediate response was to grab their arm and throw them on the ground. 

“Ugh! Motherfucker,” you moaned, laying on the ground, with Clarisse holding down on your arm on the ground. 

“What the hell!” Clarisse immediately let go and helped you get up. “Why would you do that?”

“I wanted to surprise you,” you rubbed your arm. “Why would you do that?”

“You jumped on me! Are you ok?” Clarisse worried. 

You stared at her, dumbstruck. 

“No! I’m not!”

Just when she was about to talk, Chiron called for all the campers to gather around, and you left without giving her the chance to speak. Your whole back was aching, and you tried not to think about it too much, but that was impossible because of Clarisse’s strength. Clarisse tried to grab your arm to slow you down, but you shook her off. Then, Michael and Lee just had to get involved. 

“Butt off Clarisse,” Michael squeezed himself between you two. “Didn’t you do enough by crushing y/n to dust? So much for being friends,” he snickered. 

“Fuck off Michael unless you want to wake up in the morning missing your front row teeth,” Clarisse spat.

Michael did back away a little, bumping into you. 

“How can you be friends with her,” he turned around to look at you. 

Clarisse has been wondering the same thing for the past few days. The Apollo cabin and the Ares cabin weren’t known to be friendly with each other. They tolerated each other at best when they were on the same team for Capture the Flag, but that was it. And when you left, she started to wonder about your friendship. Maybe you’d forget about her once you’re back at home. And the first week, all she could think about was when – or if – you’d reach out. 

But every Sunday, at 9:00am she’d receive a package with your recording and pictures and candy for your siblings and her. You had never given her any reason to doubt your relationship, but not everyone in your cabin, or at camp, were thinking that way. Michael had been one of those people, always wondering loud and clear about your friendship. So that was Clarisse’s final straw. 

She grabbed Michael’s collar, ready to punch him, but Lee tried to calm the situation down. 

“Clarisse, please don’t,” Lee grabbed Michael’s hands, “he doesn’t know what he’s talking about.”

“He clearly does. He’s been talking about it nonstop for the past few weeks.”

You frowned. You looked at Michael, then Lee and finally at Clarisse. The pure rage in her eyes would make anyone run away, but you stepped up.

“Clarisse,” you put your hands on her arms, “it’s fine, let go please. Chiron is waiting for us.”

She locked her eyes with you, clearly still upset about the situation, and pushed Michael away, but Lee was behind to hold him back. 

“Clarisse, what was that about?”

“It’s nothing,” she shrugged, “it’s fine. See you.” 

And she walked away, leaving you confused. You turned around, giving a questioning look at your brothers, but Lee only mouthed a ‘I don’t know’ and Michael avoided your gaze. You were ready to argue with them, but Will came running, telling you they were ready to leave.

The trip to the Empire State Building was long, especially with Clarisse ignoring you. You tried talking to Michael, but he was also ignoring you, and suddenly, everyone at camp lost their ability to talk. Annoyed, you went to the back of the bus, where no one was. But then Will came. 

“What’s wrong? You look like Clarisse all the time. Frowning and sulking.”

“I’m not!” you relaxed your face. “Also while we're talking about Clarisse, what’s that about how we’re not supposed to be friends?”

Will grimaced, and looked away for a second. 

“People have been wondering about how you, sweet and fun Apollo daughter, could be friends with ruthless Clarisse La Rue, Ares daughter. Because the Apollo cabin does not get along with the Ares cabin, like at all.”

“And Clarisse was upset? Over people’s opinions about us?”

“Well…” Will stretched that vowel for far too long. “You know people, and how they love to gossip. And somehow it went from enemy cabins to how there are better friends to have… than Clarisse. And how she’s not… worth it,” he hesitated. “And she only brings you trouble… things like that.”

You were too stunned to give any type of answers. 

“Clarisse doesn’t look like someone who cares about those kind of rumours and speculations, but insecurities are created by people’s opinion,” Will said, “that’s what Lee told me when people were talking about me and I started to feel bad.”

“What were people talking about?” you frowned. 

“I’m not as good as you all with my archery skills.”

“That’s not–, I mean it doesn’t matter.”

“I know, Lee and Cornelia and Michael and everyone at our cabin was there to tell me that.”

“Okay, and they’re right.”

“I’m saying… maybe Clarisse doesn't have that sort of support system. And maybe she is starting to feel like other people are right.”

“Oh.”

You looked at where Clarisse was sitting, in the middle, sitting next to her sister. It was a four seat table, and her three siblings were all laughing and shouting, but Clarisse wasn’t. She was staring out the window, her arms crossed. 

You saw her frown and turned her head in your direction, but when she saw you looking at her, she quickly turned her head to her siblings. 

“You should talk to her, and clear things up. Because Clarisse is nice. I like her.”

“Since when? You never talk.”

“Clarisse is nice to me, she always has been since we’ve met that one time,” he admitted. “I think she deserves good friends. Like us.”

“I think so too,” you agreed. 

When it was time to get off the bus, everyone rushed out, separating you from Clarisse even further. Well, the talk had to wait. 

The trip to the 600th floor took too long. Every cabin went one by one since it couldn’t hold the whole camp at once. The Ares cabin went before the Apollo cabin, but Clarisse stood straight and looked ahead. She had her back turned to you, even once inside the elevator, but at the last minute she turned around and locked eyes with you. 

“We’ll talk,” you mouthed clearly. 

There was no escaping you. When it was your turn, you stepped in last so you could leave first. It took forever to reach floor 600. And just as you expected, there was no sign of Clarisse. She stayed close to her brothers. 

Each cabin had to do a presentation in front of the gods, and it was the worst thing for them and for you all too. Every time they clapped at the end, you knew it wasn’t as a compliment but more as a cheers to being closer to the end. 

After that, there was a big feast. The gods watching you eat and burn your food for them – it was weird and you couldn’t keep your eyes off your father. His tanned skin, golden hair, and bright smile. 

“Blinding isn’t he,” Lee said. 

“Yeah, I should’ve brought my sunglasses. Do you ever talk?”

“Not much. They don’t come just to hang around their kids.”

“He kinda looks like a classmate I’d have if people at my school weren’t all dressed like they just left prison. He looks young.”

 “You’ll get used to it eventually,” Lee shrugged. 

After dinner, campers just hang around talking, and some of the gods would come and talk to their children. You looked around and spotted the Hermes cabin staying together, far away from the main event, and then you tried to look for Clarisse, but she was nowhere. You turned around and bumped into your father. You quickly stepped away.

“Sorry,” you mumbled. 

“It’s alright. How have you been? Have you been settling well with everything?” he smiled.

“Um… Yes.”

What more could you say? You weren’t going to start saying the truth to this god that happened to be your father. 

“How is your mother?”

“Great,” you nodded, smiling. “She’s been seeing someone you know, after,” you looked at your wrist and pretended there was a watch, “eighteen years of having no one.”

“y/n,” he sighed looking away, “that’s just how things work with us gods. She knew from the start who I was, I told her.”

“It’s fine. I was merely stating a fact.”

Please somebody end this conversation, you prayed. 

“Well, well, well,” someone slapped your dad’s shoulder.

“Ares,” your dad greeted him. “This is y/n, my daughter.”

“Ah, the girl my daughter has been seeing.”

Apollo whipped his head around, beaming at you. 

“You have a girlfriend?” he held you in his arms. “I’m so proud of you. Way to go, who and where is the lucky girl.”

You stared at him, and then at Ares, mouth wide open in shock.

“I– I don’t! It’s– It’s not!” you stuttered. “I don’t have a girlfriend. Clarisse is my friend, who is a girl indeed. So yeah girl,” you paused, “friend. I haven’t been seeing her, I’ve been seeing her as in, she lives at camp and so did I during the summer!”

“Oh,” he let go of you. “My bad. You could’ve been more clear,” he looked at Ares. “Well I have to go now,” he walked away. “See you soon, y/n.”

Ares didn’t follow your father. He stayed with you, staring at you. Clarisse looked at you the same way when you first arrived at camp. 

“I feel like I know you from somewhere,” you admitted. 

“Well, I am the war god. They had to have shown you my picture somewhere between those classes they have,” he nodded toward Chiron.

“No, it’s not that,” you frowned. 

Meanwhile, Clarisse was talking to Mark when she spotted Apollo leaving in a hurry, and she looked at where he came from. And her eyes spotted you immediately, and then she saw her father standing tall, towering over you. 

“Fuck,” she mumbled before leaving the conversation without any notice. 

She rushed to where you stood. There was no way she was going to let you alone with her father. 

“... on twitter!” you shouted, hiding a smile. “Clarisse, I was just telling your father about us knowing each other through twitter!”

“What?” she mumbled, pulling you closer to her. 

“I’m always starting fights with him on twitter, because he’s always talking shit and nonsense. He doesn’t know me though.”

“Wait–,” Ares interrupted. “Are you that fan account of that blonde singer?”

“Yes!” you laughed.

He snickered, then stopped and turned to Clarisse. 

“Clarisse.”

“Dad.”

Then he stared at you, before going back to Clarisse. 

“You can leave now,” he gave you a brief look. “I want to talk to Clarisse. Alone.”

Clarisse, who the whole time didn’t let go of your hand, squeezed it. Hard. Before letting go. But you didn’t move, slightly worried.

“I–,” you started, but Clarisse turned to you, face blank.

“I’ll find you after this, go.”

You nodded without arguing and left. You quickly spotted your siblings and joined them, listening to what they were saying. You’d glance at Clarisse’s direction, and all you could see was Clarisse nodding, looking at her feet. Ares was in his human form, but even like that he looked impressive. He was tall and broad, he had these eyes you didn’t want to look straight into from fear. He gave Clarisse a final, firm, pat on the shoulder before leaving her there. She stood there for a full minute before straightening her back and searched for you in the ocean of people. But before she could find you, you were already on your way to her. 

“Are you okay?” you immediately asked. 

“I’m fine.”

“What did he say to you?”

“He…” she hesitated. “It doesn’t matter.”

You stood there, torn between insisting and letting it go. If you insisted when she wasn’t ready to talk, then you’d be a pushy friend who doesn’t respect any boundaries. But if you didn’t, then maybe it’d seem like you didn’t care. 

“Okay,” you nodded slowly. “Well, if you don’t have anything more to say, I do.”

“y/n…” Clarisse sighed.

“No! You ignored me the whole day when I just came back for you. And then that thing that happened with Michael,” she rolled her eyes at the mention of his name, “what was that about?”

“It doesn’t—”

“Stop saying that! It does matter. It matters to me how you feel. About this and everything else.”

Clarisse stared at you. Her eyes pleading with you to let it go. 

“I just…” you sighed, defeated. “I don’t want this to ruin our friendship. And I don’t—” you groaned in frustration. “Will told me,” you admitted, “about what people have been saying and what Michael has been saying,” you found it hard to find your words. “I– I want you to know that’s not what I think. And I—.”

You should’ve been rehearsing this. You took a deep breath.

“They’re not right about this. And I don’t want you to think that they are. Because you, Clarisse La Rue, are the best friend anyone could ask for. And because of you, I’m better than ever. I’ve been a better fighter because of you, I’ve been a better friend because of you. You taught me how to stand up for myself, and I’ve just been happier since I’ve met you. So I don’t want you to listen to what people have to say.” 

Clarisse still hadn’t said anything, which was excruciating. Just as you were about to continue ranting about this, she pulled you in her arms. You wrapped your arms around her, and put your head on her shoulder. 

“Thank you,” she whispered, and let go. 

It didn’t last long enough, but you’ll take what she gave you. 

“Are we ok?” 

“We’re ok,” Clarisse nodded. 

The rest of the evening was spent with you sitting on some big rocks that served as chairs, catching up. She’d tell about all the times she won at Capture the Flag, she’d tell you about the indigestion everyone had due to food poisoning that one day, she’d tell you about that time she had to go to the infirmary and only let Will heal her because there was no way she’d let Michael help her. She’d tell you about every little thing you’d miss during those months when you went home, and you listened to everything she had to say, with your head resting on her shoulder.

“Oh gods,” you straightened your back, pointing ahead of you. “Is that your dad with Aphrodite?”

“Fuck,” she cringed. “Are they making out?”

“I mean– he definitely is. It’s weird,” you looked away, then went back to staring at them.

“Stop staring at my dad sucking the goddess of love’s face.”

“Are you sure he’s your dad though? Cause Aphrodite looks exactly like you.”

Clarisse whipped her head around, eyes wide, staring at you.

“What?” she breathed. 

“What, what?”

She paused, still staring at you. 

“Nothing,” she smiled, and then looked back, “they’re gone.”

“Finally. It’s gross to make out in front of your children like that.”

All the campers spent the night in Olympus, all sleeping in the same area. The room looked exactly like inside a normal cabin at camp, with bunk beds and cupboards, and for once, friends from different cabins were allowed to sleep together. You dragged Clarisse with you, where the Apollo cabin stayed. 

“We’re all used to staying together,” you explained, “but you can stay with me. Are you sleeping on the top bunk or bottom one?”

“Bottom one,” Clarisse sat on the bed. 

“Ooh,” Cornelia sat next to Clarisse,” so does y/n.” 

“It’s fine, it’s only for one night,” you waved it off. 

“Did you see Clarisse’s dad making out in the open with their mother,” Cornelia pointed at the Aphrodite children. 

“We did!” you squealed, squeezing yourself between the two of them.

“I think everyone did,” Clarisse added. 

“Did you notice how Aphrodite looked exactly like Clarisse,” you looked at Cornelia.

Her eyes widened, and shook her head slightly. Clarisse was leaning against the bed frame, her legs crossed on the bed, smirking. You frowned.

“What?” you mouthed. 

“We’ll come back”, Cornelia dragged you away. 

“What?”

“Do you know what it means to perceive Aphrodite, the goddess of love, beauty, passion and lust, as someone you know?” she asked. 

“As someone I know? What does that mean?”

“Aphrodite doesn’t look like Clarisse,” she explained, “you perceive the goddess as such because you think Clarisse is those things.”

“Oh,” you paused. “Is that common knowledge or?” 

You hoped not. 

“Yeah it is, so you probably shouldn’t say those things in front of Clarisse if you’re not…”

“If I’m not what?”

“Nevermind.”

“I already told her, twice now with what happened a few minutes ago. Oh gods, couldn’t you have taught me this earlier!” you panicked. “What–What does that mean though? Do I– Am I—,” you gave a quick glance at Clarisse. 

“I don’t know! I mean, you did ask her on a date like the first week you arrived at camp, what could that mean?”

“I don’t know? I think she’s pretty, and– and apparently I think she could look exactly like the goddess of love herself. It’s—,” you took a deep breath. 

“It’s fine, you don’t have to know.”

“I think,” you hesitated. “I don’t know!” you whined. “Clarisse is nice to me, she’s fun to be around, she’s pushing me upwards and I think I might– maybe– perhaps have a tiny crush on her, yes,” you admitted. 

“Aw,” she beamed, “I think you’d make such a cute couple.”

“Calm your tits down,” you playfully rolled your eyes, “I don’t know if this will ever go further than us being friends. Now look natural, and never tell anyone else this. Okay, let’s go back.”

Clarisse was talking to Will when you two came back, but they abruptly stopped. Will stood so Cornelia and you could sit. 

“What was that about?” Cornelia asked them.

“It’s a secret,” Will smiled. 

“We were talking about how sunshine over there thought I looked like a goddess,” Clarisse grinned. 

Will tried to hide his laugh.

“No one told me!” you hid your face in your hand from embarrassment. “You could’ve stopped me the first time I said it,” you accused Clarisse, who was still laughing. 

“The first?” Will interrupted. 

“Both times in front of Clarisse,” Cornelia added. “It was hard to watch,” she teased you. 

Time went by very fast when you’re surrounded by friends and family, because it was already time to go to sleep. The lights disappeared, and you climbed onto your bed, and whispered Clarisse a goodnight before closing your eyes.

The silence was deafening. You couldn’t fall asleep, you needed white noises, music, anything but this. You tossed around, left your right leg outside the blanket, but then it was too cold, so you put it back inside, and tossed around again. 

“What the hell y/n,” Clarisse whispered loudly.

“Sorry, I can’t fall asleep.”

“Why?” she sighed.

“It’s too quiet, and I’m cold.”

Clarisse let out a bigger sigh, before getting up.

“Where’re you going?” you sat up.

“Get down here, and bring your blanket.”

You did as she told you. You put the blanket on your shoulders and climbed down. 

“Get in the bed,” she pointed at hers. 

You did as she told you. And then she climbed back inside her bed, next to you, with both blankets on you.  The beds on Olympus were bigger than the ones at camp, so it was no problem to fit you two in one single bed. 

“Better?” 

“Yes,” you nodded.

Clarisse fell asleep very quickly, like always. As soon as she closed her eyes, she was gone. But it took more time with you, you were used to looking at your phone until your eyelids were too tired to stay open, but now you couldn’t. You had nothing, only Clarisse sleeping peacefully next to you. 

She slept on her back, with her head tilted toward you. Unlike her, you slept on your side, so you turned your back to her, and closed your eyes. And just as you were about to fall asleep, you felt Clarisse arms wrapping around you to bring you closer to her. And then, in an instant, you were gone. 

The happiness from staying at camp didn’t last long as it was already time to go home and say goodbye to everyone. Your holidays came to an end and so did your stay at camp, and just like last time, Clarisse was already waiting for you at the entrance. 

“So,” you started, ‘I guess we’ll see each other next summer?”

“Yea,” she nodded. “Next summer.”

“I’ll be there as soon as I can,” you promised, “and I’ll keep sending you updates, though I don’t know if I’ll continue to be as regular as before. I do have my high school diploma to get, and I’ll have less time but I’ll do my best!”

“It’s okay, good luck on your exams. I know you’ll do great.”

“Thanks,” you smiled, but still didn’t leave. 

It was too soon, and it felt like you barely spent any time with Clarisse and your siblings. 

“Did you say goodbye to Will and the others?” Clarisse asked.

“Yea, before I left the cabin I did. It sucks that I have to, but–,” you hesitated, “maybe I won’t have to next year.”

“You wouldn’t?”

“I don’t know yet, but… it’s a possibility.”

“Oh,” she smiled, “okay.”

“Okay. Well… I have to go now.”

“Okay.”

You two stood there, without moving. But then you lunged forward and hugged her tightly. 

“I’ll miss you,” you whispered. 

And you let go, and left before she could give you her answer. 

One recording per week became one every other week, and by December, it was only one per month. Clarisse didn’t send anything from December to February either, but then on a random day in March, you received a package from Hermes Express with Clarisse’s usual pictures from camp, without any notes explaining what happened those last few months. You didn’t mention it either, but you gave yourself a quick reminder to ask her when you’d be back at camp. 

“It’s almost time, are you ready?” your mom asked.

“Yep, a minute!”

Your exams were done, you didn’t have the results yet but that didn’t matter – your mom promised she’d send them to you once she’d receive them so you could leave for camp peacefully. You packed lightly – a third of your belongings were already at camp – and went inside the cab your mom had called for you.

“Be careful okay,” she kissed your temple. “And write to me about your decision, okay?”

“I will, I promise,” you gave her a last quick hug and closed the cab door.

The journey to camp felt familiar now, you’d done it a few times already so it was a stress free trip. So you kept your suitcase close to you, you turned your phone off, and walked. 

But something was off when you got closer to the entrance. It was loud. Louder than usual, and there were more people at the border everywhere as well, which were usually empty. You crossed the entrance, and most campers were wearing their gears, and weapons. 

“What the hell,” you whispered. 

You quickly noticed Clarisse, giving orders to campers, and walking around. When she turned around, she spotted you and ran to you, very quickly. 

“Why didn’t you tell me earlier when you were going to be here!” she shot. 

“I wanted to surprise you! Why are you yelling at me!” you shouted back. 

Clarisse stepped back and mouthed a quick apology.

“A lot of things happened while you were gone,” she explained.

“Like when you stopped sending me anything?”

She nodded reluctantly. 

“A new camper came in, got claimed by Poseidon, and then got his quest to retrieve Zeus’ stolen bolt, and…” she hesitated. “We know who stole it in the first place. Luke.”

“Luke?” your eyes widened. “As in Castellan, Hermes' head– former head counsellor?” 

She nodded again. 

“And now Thalia’s tree has been poisoned, meaning the camp’s borders are weakened and we have to keep them safe ourselves.”

“Okay,” you proceeded with this information as fast as you could. “Okay.”

“I was worried sick for the past few days! You didn’t send me anything like last time. I didn’t know when you were going to be here, or if you’d gotten attacked and died.” 

“I’m sorry! I didn’t know. Why didn’t you tell me this earlier!” you argued. 

“I–,” she hesitated, “I didn’t want to burden you with your studies.”

“They’re not important, this is obviously my priority and much more important.”

“Okay,” she looked around. “Stay beside me, I want to keep an eye on you whenever a battle is going to break out.”

You frowned.

“That’s cute, but I’d be much more useful if I stayed with the rest of the Apollo cabin where we’re needed. I’m a great fighter, I know,” you said before she could interrupt, “thanks to you, but I’m much better at archery.”

She stared at you, then looked down. 

“I can’t…” she whispered, “I can’t protect you if you’re this far away from me.”

“Clarisse,” you cupped her face. “I’ll be fine, I promise. You worry about staying alive, and I’ll do the same. It’s going to be fine. Remember, you taught me everything I know.”

She nodded reluctantly. 

“Okay.”

“Where’s your spear by the way?” you asked when she walked you to your cabin. 

She grimaced, and sighed.

“Gone.”

“Gone? Wha–.”

“Percy Jackson,” she spat. “The new kid, I’m sure you’ll meet him soon enough.”

You threw your stuff inside your cabin, and changed your clothes before walking out with Clarisse still outside, waiting for you. Clarisse was about to talk, but was interrupted by screams from campers at the entrance. 

You looked at each other and ran off to where the screams were, and saw it. Two immense bulls – colchis Bulls – coming straight towards campers. 

“Go find Lee, I’ll handle this from here. He’ll know what to do,” Clarisse ordered before walking away.

“Clarisse!” you shouted before she was out of range. She turned her head. “Be careful.”

She nodded. 

“Don’t die,” she added before leaving. 

#clarisse la rue x reader #clarisse la rue fanfic #clarisse la rue x y/n #clarisse la rue pjo #clarisse la rue x you #clarisse la rue imagine #clarisse la rue

[neteyamssyulang]

A/B/O

Day 31

Pairing: Alpha Neteyam aged up x Fem omega omaticaya reader.

Summary: You always had eyes for Neteyam, unfortunately you never thought they were reciprocated as he was eventually promised to another. Little did you know they actually were

Warnings: Dom Neteyam, Sub reader, Kinda cheating Neteyam, Oral (F receiving), Fingering, P in V, Marking, Knotting/Creampie.

Word count: 1221

Translation(s): Paskalin -> Honey, Rutxe -> Please.

A/N: First time writing full on A/B/O so I’m not sure if it’ll do well but enjoy and happy Halloween!

Tags: @teyamsatan @pandoraslxna <3

Being born an omega was difficult, well for you atleast. Whether it be female or male alphas they all tried having you, and each time you had to deny them.

No one except Kiri knew you had eyes for Neteyam, I mean who wouldn't? With his toned body, handsome face, and the way he can make any omega drop down to their knees for him.

Neteyam was your bestfriend and had been ever since you were teenagers, he had saved you from a group of alphas who wanted to have their way with you not caring if you didn't consent.

Ever since then you stuck to his side and eventually grew feelings for him, unfortunately they weren't reciprocated as once he turned 20 his parents had betrothed him to the daughter of the Kanesätaw family.

Li'ona was beautiful you had to admit, she was skilled weaver and hunter but she was also a beta. Everyone was under the impression that they'd make such a cute pair once his father passed the mantle of olo'eyktan to him.

What they didn't know was that Neteyam didn't like Li'ona, he liked you but didn't want to admit it as he didn't think you'd like him back. Li'ona knew Neteyam didn't like her but still tried for the sake of their people.

It was just a regular day not much to really do, you had helped out in the healers tent with Kiri before bidding her goodbye to head back to your hut to finish up some tops you started weaving the night before.

In the corner of your eye you see Neteyam and Li'ona, she was pushing at his chest and you could see she was yelling at him. For what though? You didn't know.

It wasn't your business anyway, you made your way inside your hut and started weaving the top when not even 5 minutes later Neteyam bursts through the flap of your hut turning around to quickly tie the flaps shut.

"Neteyam?" Your head tilts confused as he walks over now "What are y-" he shuts you up by leaning down to capture your lips with his. His pheromones a mixture of lust and nervousness.

Without even looking he picks you up and walks over to your bed laying you down on it while he hovers over you. Breaking the kiss he sighs "I can't do this anymore Paskalin.."

"Do what Teyam?" You didn't know what he was talking about or why he was doing this, it felt wrong since he's promised to someone else already.

Neteyam hisses out of frustration "I can't keep denying my feelings, I love you y/n." Did- did he just say what you thought he said? He loves you? You must be hearing things you have to be.

The male has a look of worry on his face as you don't respond back to him, feeling his heart break he goes to get off you when suddenly he gets pulled closer till your lips meet in a passionate kiss.

He groans into your mouth as he quickly unties his tewng throwing it somewhere off to the side before ripping yours clean off your body along with your top all while never breaking the kiss.

Eventually you need to catch your breath so you pull away panting, his eyes lock onto yours, they aren't the beautiful golden orbs you always got lost in no.. his eyes are dark and filled with lust.

Neteyam was about to lean in to kiss you again when you scooted back earning a growl from him "W-wait, what about Li'ona?"

"Fuck her I want you y/n! I choose you as my mate not her. Please.. I will deal with the consequences later but right now let me show you how much I love you." Your heart melts at his words as you give him a nod.

The male smiles and kisses from your neck all the way down past your stomach leaving marks, in the process copious amounts of slick drip out of you and down onto the bedding below.

Your breath hitches as he licks a long stripe up your folds, a deep growl rumbles through his chest savoring your sweet taste.

Without warning he dives in licking your clit and sucking on the little bundle of nerves, your head falls back against the bedding as your hand reaches down tugging on his hair.

He moans against your pussy sending the vibrations through you, Neteyam then sinks two of his fingers inside you curling them just right.

"Nete- youch!" You yelp as he smacks your thigh with his free hand, "That's not my name." A pink hue flushes your face and you know what he's expecting to hear.

"Alpha- please.." this time he rewards you by trailing wet kisses up your body till he gets to your neck "What a good little omega~" Neteyam purrs into your ear, his cock already emerging from his slit.

Pulling his fingers out of your sopping cunt he replaces them with his cock sliding slowly into you, the stretch was painful but welcoming. Neteyam sensed you were a bit uneasy so he released comforting pheromones to relax you more.

Finally he bottomed out, leaning his head down to the crook of your neck he took a deep breath of your pheromones then licked over your scent gland sending shivers down your spine.

You tapped his shoulder giving him the ok to start moving, leaning back up he hauled your legs over his shoulders and set a fast pace.

The only sounds to be heard was both your moans and the loud squelching sound from your slick as he slammed his hips against yours. You could feel your orgasm approaching rapidly “A-al-pha rutxe..”

“Please what princess?” He smirked looking down at you, sweat dripping from his hairline “Please can I- can I cum?” You spoke softly.

Tsking he sent a harsh thrust into you stilling his hips, “Hm? What was that omega?” Tilting his head, he knew what you said he just needed you to say it louder for everyone to hear.

Your omega instincts were begging you to listen to your alphas command but you were also stubborn so you stayed quiet looking away. Not having any of that he rolled his hips coaxing out a small whimper from you.

“Be a good little girl and answer me or you wont get what you want” he said while grabbing your jaw turning your head carefully to look at him.

Letting your instincts win you gave in “Please alpha, let me cum” this time in a more louder tone but still soft so none outside could hear.

“Good girl” he purred now fully moving again slamming into you. Your nails dug into the bedding as you came chanting his name like a prayer, Neteyam groaned at the feeling of your walls clenching around him.

His knot prodded against your hole begging entry which your body agreed to by producing more slick. Leaning down he sank his fangs into your neck as he pushed his knot inside spilling his seed into your empty womb.

Your body shook as a small whimper left your lips, finally Neteyam unlatched from your neck and leaned up panting.

“You did so well for me my little omega.”

#neteyamssyulang #adult neteyam #neteyam te suli tsyeyk'itan #neteyam x omaticaya!reader #lunaskinktober2023 #avatar kinktober #followmypage #please like and reblog #comments really appreciated #neteyam smut

[gay-dorito-dust]

Hii!!! I love your work so much!!! I was wondering if you could do a hurt/comfort with Miguel O’hara where him and the reader get into an argument over something (you can choose what) and maybe where he has to apologize to the reader. I Love angst that ends in fluff!!! ❤️❤️❤️

You and Miguel fought like every other couple but the most recent fight has to be one of the worst in your relationship. You understood that Miguel was a born natural protector, especially when it comes down to the people that he loves, so much to the point that he’s hightailing anyone who threatens to tear apart the relationships he treasured on all fours with a crazed look in his scarlet eyes.

You could never fault him for being that way with everything he’s ever been through but it does however become somewhat difficult to excuse when he’s practically breathing down your neck 24/7, partnering up with you on missions that he knows you can do on your own but felt that you might need the back up, or how his emotions seemed to change as though he was having a hard time deciding whether or not to act as your boyfriend or the leader of the Spider-Society.

You loved Miguel, deeply and truly but you couldn’t help to think that sometimes he felt more so your boss then he did your boyfriend but you just didn’t know how to bring that up with him; fortunately for you, the situation did arise but unfortunately it came from an argument relating to your most recent mission. ‘I had it handled Miguel and then you had to go and take my anomaly, my capture, you had to completely take over my mission that was assigned to me and me alone to pursue!’ You ranted as you got back home, peeved off by the fact that once again your solo mission became and impromptu duo mission, because of Miguel’s incompetence in seeing that you were more then well trained within your field of expertise.

‘I was just trying to-‘ Miguel started

‘Protect me, I know.’ You interrupted bitterly. ‘I’m thankful for that but it happens so frequently that I’m starting to think that you don’t have any semblance of trust in me nor my abilities in getting the job done.’ You added on as you continued to say everything you’ve been meaning to say for a long while, saying the things that have been long overdue, and how much it hurt to keep silent about something for so long that it starts to feel as though it’s not only effecting you mentally but physically and emotionally also. Miguel didn’t know that this was how you truly felt and felt down -more so with himself then with you- with that he wasn’t able to see how his overbearing and protective nature had made dwindled down your self confidence until it became self doubt.

‘Why didn’t you tell me?’ Miguel asked, voice soft and vulnerable, ‘we promised to tell each other when either of us get like this, not drown ourselves in it.’ You inhaled unevenly as tears brims your eyes as you began to tug at your clothing out of anxious habit, ‘I just didn’t want to my fears to be proven right, I didn’t want to be viewed as a burden by the person I love most.’ You croaked as the first completes of tears began to rain down your cheeks. ‘Y/n.’ Miguel began as he slowly made his way to your side, his hands already reaching out to cradle your body against his chest, tucking your head protectively under his chin as his muscular build acted as to shield you from the lives you both lived outside.

‘There’s no one I trust more then you, I’m sorry I’ve made you feel that way and this is now way shape or form an attempt in justifying my actions but whenever I see you go out there and do what you do, I become terrified.’ He confesses and you peak your head out from under his chin so you could see his tired but adoring eyes look back at you; Miguel’s eyes were your favourite feature of his because of how expressive they are that even he could express his innermost feelings without the need to verbalise it. And in that moment you could see a multitude of emotions fighting inside him, guilt for not being able to see your struggles sooner, anger at himself for not being there when you so desperately needed his comfort, and regret for the times where he implanted doubt within your mind.

‘What do you mean by that?’ You asked, cupping his face within your hands and watching as Miguel practically fell apart in your touch as he pressed more of his face into your palms, his eyes never once leaving yours whilst doing so. ‘I love everything once because I wasn’t ready,’ he says, ‘and I’m not prepared for loosing everything again because I’ve became hyperaware that even the smallest of shifts have greater impacts down the line, think of it as a kind of butterfly or domino effect- but that isn’t what I’m trying to say.’ Miguel cuts himself off when he notes that he was on the verge of rambling and composed himself before getting back to the point. ‘What I’m trying to say is that, you’re amazing at what you do and you shouldn’t allow anyone to make you think otherwise, not even me. You amaze me each and every time but deep down I worry that one day I’ll end up repeating my past and loose you in the process and if I loose you…I don’t know how I could cope and instead of being upfront about it with you, I decided to double down on my fear and became overbearing and overprotective of you.’

Miguel didn’t realise that he had been crying until he felt your thumbs come up to wipe them from under his eyes nor did he notice how blurred his vision became with unshed tears until he clocked the fact that he could barely make out what was in front of him. He never allowed himself to become vulnerable but with you it was an entirely different story for he knew you wouldn’t think differently of him for being open about the anguish he held closely to his heart despite how unhealthy it was to his health. ‘Oh Miguel,’ you cooed, wiping away another tear from his beautifully sculptured face; This Greek god of a man was reduced to nothing but a fallen angel weeping over the loss of his wings and all you could do was cry with him in solidarity.

you were both hurting but by doing so you were also healing together by opening up to one another about things you originally thought you’d never discuss. ‘You aren’t to blame for what happened, you did all you could, you’re a hero.’ Miguel whimpered as he held onto you tighter, burrowing his face against your neck, where it became wet with his tears smearing across the skin there. ‘I don’t blame you for wanting to look out for me either for I know now that you weren’t intentionally trying to make me feel less than. I can’t make your fear go away but I can certainly try and make you believe that I’m not going anywhere, not with you.’ You whispered your promises into his ear as you held him against you, it was your turn to protect Miguel and you’d be sure to kiss his every scar that marked his skin and soul if it was the last thing you did.

#spider man: across the spider verse #across the spiderverse #atsv x reader #spiderman: across the spiderverse #spiderman atsv x reader #spiderman atsv fic #spiderman atsv #spiderman atsv imagines #spiderman atsv imagine #spiderman atsv x you #miguel o’hara imagine #miguel o’hara imagines #miguel x reader #miguel o’hara #miguel o'hara x reader #spiderman 2099 x reader

[rascal-xo]

Can i request one where reader and ghost go to the zoo as a date 💞 and bonus they get to pet capybara's too 😭 i love capybara's

Bittersweet | Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley x Reader |

Chapter summary: You and Simon take a day trip to the zoo

Warnings: FLUFF, Affirming!Simon, language

Word count: 792

A/N: This popped up on my twitter feed and I HAD to add it to this blog.

“I don’t think they like me, Love.” Simon chuckled, watching the penguins waddle away into the water at the sight of him.

“Their first time seeing a ghost, I bet." You smile, earning a small nudge from your fiancé, whose face is covered by a balaclava but his eyes as bright as ever. You lean on the metal railing while Simon keeps a hand around your waist.

It's bittersweet, being here with him. You're both enjoying yourselves, but there's that familiar cloud of sadness hanging over you both, knowing that today could be the last time you get to do something like this together for a while.

Simon will be deploying back to base with the 141 in just two short days. You dread the week before he has to leave, scared and full of emotion, just wishing he could stay longer or never have to leave the peacefulness of your home.

You watch the little babies follow after their mothers, while others swim under the decorative bridge happily.

“What’s got you so quiet, darling.” Simon asks, letting your head fall against his shoulder. “These little things can’t be all that interesting.” He jokes, you smile to yourself at the sound of his voice.

You take a deep breath before answering, not wanting to ruin the peacefulness of the moment. "I worry about you, Si." you say softly, feeling Simon's gaze turn to you.

He leans down and presses a kiss to your forehead through his mask before pulling away slightly to look you in the eyes. "I always come home, don’t I? I don’t want you worrying, it’s not good for you love.”

You know he's right, he always comes back, but the thought of him being in harm's way is enough to keep you up at night. The thought of having Johnny or the Captain at your front door with Simons dogtags, is a constant fear of yours.

"I know you do," you say, “Just wish you could stay.”

"I know," Simon replies, his voice soft, almost regretful. "But duty calls, and I have to answer." You nod, understanding his dedication to his work. You also know that the time apart is just as difficult for him as it is for you.

You spend the rest of the afternoon wandering through the different animal exhibits, dragging Simon to hold various exotic creatures while never once missing the opportunity to snap pictures of him on your small camera.

Pictures you’ll eventually print out to remember back on.

As you approach the capybara exhibit, you can't contain your excitement. "Simon, look! They're so cute!" You see the sign to hold one and almost run off without him. You hand him your camera and run up to the line.

Simon smiles at your excitement, making sure to snap a photo of you getting to hold one of the pups. You can feel the warmth of the animal's fur against your skin as it nuzzles into you

"I think it likes you," Simon says, chuckling as he looks at the photo he just took. You’re smiling up at Simon in the shot, with small animal in your arms. The perfect candid moment.

He was going to make sure he keeps that one in his vest, once printed out. You can't help but grin, feeling a sense of contentment wash over you. This moment, captured forever in time

As you make your way back to the car, the sun starting to set on the horizon, you hold Simon's hand tightly. You don't want to let go, not wanting to face the reality that he'll be leaving soon.

You both know that tomorrow will be spent running errands and packing for his deployment. It won't be a fun day, but it's a necessary one.

As you reach the car, Simon opens the door for you before making his way around to the driver's side. You're lost in thought, when he reaches over and takes your hand in his. You turn to look at him, seeing the small smile on his face.

“Don’t go holding any capybaras without me while i’m gone, you hear?” He chuckles, lightening the mood.

“I wouldn’t dream of it, Lieutenant.” You say sternly, joking.

“Oh god, Love. I don’t wanna be Lieutenant yet. I’ve got two more days.” He whines, with a hearty laugh.

You take his much larger hand, now cupping it with both of yours and bring it up to your lips. “Come back to me, Simon.” You say against it, not wanting to feel anything but him.

He watches you with more emotion in his eyes than he had ever had before in his life. He would come back to you, one way or another.

#simon ghost riley #simon riley x reader #simon riley x you #ghost x female reader #ghost x you #ghost x reader #ghost mw2 #simon riley imagine #modern warfare x you #modern warfare two #mw2 fanfic #call of duty fanfic #cod fanfic #call of duty modern warfare #call of duty #fanfic #call of duty smut #modern warfare smut #modern warfare 2 #simon riley fluff #ghost fluff #simon riley x y/n #simon riley x gn reader #simon riley #ghost #ghost cod

[rillils]

how do explain stucky from the moment they met to where they are now (together in each others arms) to my friend who knows nothing about marvel

ohh this is a tough one, honey! i think i've got two options for you:

the short answer:

stucky is a compendium of all the best tropes out there, and i'm sure i'm gonna miss a few:

soulmates? check! star-crossed lovers? check! battle husbands? super check! mutual pining? check! 'and they were roommates'? check! best friends to lovers? check check check! long-lost lover comes back from the dead? fuck yeah, check! temporary amnesia? check! dude in distress trope? check! 'they will always find each other and choose each other in every lifetime'? also check! identity porn? extra check! saved by the power of love? you guessed it: check! slow burn or childhood sweethearts? you decide!!! did they share their first kiss when steve was 16, as per a popular fanon theory? did they only confess their feelings during the war? did they only get together much later, when bucky was healing in wakanda? you can pick literally ANY point in their timeline, and it will still make sense! they're all equally valid! you can even have multiple different headcanons at once, i mean who's gonna stop you??? all you have to do is join in the fun! 💕

the long AF answer, aka:

STEVE & BUCKY'S LOVE STORY, UNABRIDGED SOMEWHAT ABRIDGED, part 1/3

all right, let's set the scene:

imagine two young kids, let's call them steve and bucky. they meet, they immediately take to each other, they become instant besties! and as they grow up together, facing many hardships, their bond deepens. not only are they best friends; they are also each other's family. they take care of each other, and they both know they can always rely on one another in times of need.

when steve's mom (and only remaining relative) passes away, bucky reminds him that he's not as alone in this world as he thinks he is: bucky will always be by his side. bucky will always love him unconditionally, will always be there for him, for better or for worse, in sickness and in health, for richer and for poorer, and he wants steve to know that.

in fact, he asks steve to move in with him, thus offering steve both a literal and a metaphorical home.

and steve says yes!

SO. they are each other's home, they're living together, they're getting by all right. but then war breaks out, and eventually it reaches their little home as well: bucky is drafted, and steve, due to his many health issues, and despite his best intentions, can't follow the boy he loves onto the battlefield.

it's a very difficult time for them both - so much so that they can't even bring themselves to talk about it.

they have no choice but to say goodbye for now, knowing that they might never see each other again. but here's something you might not know yet about steve: he's the most reckless, most stubborn fucker america's ever seen. he's not gonna let this stop him!!! instead, he goes and gets a very sweet, kindly scientist to fucking experiment on him, because screw it, he's going to fight in this war if it's the last thing he does. and that's how he goes from Smol Steeb to Lorge Premium Steeb.

of course, things don't go exactly as he predicted, and steve is made to be the star of a war propaganda-fuelled musical kinda thingie, which he resents (but he looks fucking precious in his costume)

BUT! he does get closer to the actual battlefield. which is where he discovers that bucky has been captured by the enemy (!!!!!!!) and is most likely dead by now. but steve isn't willing to give up so easily! he'll believe bucky's dead when he sees it with his own eyes. so, he embarks on this suicide solo mission in the attempt to get bucky back, even if it means wandering on his own. into enemy territory. where he would be shot. on. sight. with no protection for his dumb ass except for a bunch of theater props!!! but such is the power of love, y'all.

against all odds, steve finds bucky very much still alive! and as soon as bucky recognizes him, even as confused as he is, he pulls out this beautiful, ecstatic, angelic-ass smile, like he's just seen god or he got high on some real good edibles or maybe both idk, like my man here was having a serious Religious Experience™ you guys

and i just wanna say, they could have totally kissed here and it would have made plenty of sense. but that's true of like 90% of their scenes in this franchise, so *shrugs*

ANYWAY steve takes bucky in his arms (well technically yes he does) and brings him to safety, and on their way there, bucky proves once more just how hard he meant that "with you til the end of the line" from before

afterwards, steve is finally given the chance to fight, just like he wanted.

bucky, on the other hand, could very well leave the war behind and go home; but when he learns that steve is staying, he chooses to stay too, and fight by his side. and he tells steve so in this very intimate, softspoken, delightfully suggestive conversation, which can be summed up like this:

and so they walk right back into the heart of the fight, only this time together, as they were always meant to be!

but. during an especially tricky mission, they're surprised by the enemy, and as a result, bucky falls to his death into a deep ravine.

steve is devastated. overwhelmed with guilt, grief and rage, he vows to bring down the people responsible for his loss, even if it costs him his own life.

and um, it kind of does? cost him his own life?

victorious after his last vis-a-vis with The Antagonist™, steve still chooses to sacrifice himself to prevent the catastrophe set into motion by the aforementioned Antagonist™. he's flying a jet over the frosty expanse of the atlantic, and you know, from the outside, you could easily argue that he could try to save himself. if he really wanted to. but with bucky dead, and the people responsible for all this pain, either dead or captured, it seems like all the will to fight is gone from steve; and so he plunges the jet straight into the ocean, and himself with it.

is this the end of their story?, you might ask.

the answer is: of course not!!!! the best is yet to come, babes!!!

EDIT: here is part 2

#stucky just stucky #personal #stucky #yes this is very dumb but dumb is my middle name lmao #i hope the read more works?????????? #are all the pictures even there???? #i'm too tired to check agsdjahkasdjk #sorry it took me a while to reply honey!!!! #i hope you're having a fantastic day!!!!!!! <3 <3 <3 #the silly stucky recap you didn't ask for #rillers scribbles

[lemonflavoreddishsoap]

Can i request like la squadra and their s/o but they are the complete opposite of them?

Like Risotto is stoic and his s/o is emotional or Ghiaccio who is short tempered and his s/o is calm and very nice

ooh this is actually a very cool prompt to write - personality descriptions in prompts make writing feel way less daunting but I understand if readers may not like a less applicable reader. Oh well, gonna write anyways.

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

Formaggio

You're finicky, on-edge, and I suppose a bit of a perfectionist(?)...maybe "control freak" is a better way to word it? Either way, you need things to go right, perfectly as you plan.

Not to say Formaggio is careless, but he does things on-the-go (you telling me he planned to jump into the sewers?) and doesn't mind if things get messy.

You two are each other's reasonable thoughts. If you think one of his ideas is too risky and need him to weigh the consequences he'll listen to you completely, and in return he opens you up to just...letting some things happen.

He eases your anxieties when they're excessive, but is beyond attracted to your work ethic and smarts. He'll hold your hands and listen to your every idea if you'll listen to his.

Illuso

Soft-spoken and definitely not a confident one, it's difficult for most people to look at you two and understand how you could've ever gotten together in the first place. Maybe you even have these doubts yourself.

But he never lets you feel those doubts for long. At first he honestly probably wasn't the nicest! But when you managed to capture his heart and hints of a connection began to show, he allowed himself to slow down a bit and really understand you. Care about you.

And when you feel anxious about the relationship, he always reminds you how much he loves you (take it sexually if you want, but I don't mean it like that). Just...only in the mirror world. Trust me, he's not embarrassed about loving you, it's just more comfortable for both of you. His image and your nerves.

In the privacy of his own safe world, he doesn't need to worry about how vulnerable he is, and he can praise and encourage you as much as you need. A moment for him to feel softer and you to feel stronger.

Prosciutto

You must be Pesci's twin or something - difference is he isn't as harsh with you. Sensitive and a follower, not a leader, maybe you feel security in Prosciutto's straightforward, no-nonsense demeanor.

Prosciutto is good at seeing the strengths in someone and raising their confidence as we see in canon, and he surely does it with you. He can see how gentle and well-meaning you are in everything you do and he reminds you of your greatness whenever you fear being "too soft"

In turn you offer the quiet he needs sometimes. He is relatively fine with spending a life alone, but a balance of peace and your company is better than he could've imagined. And don't worry about not being good at comforting others with words, he was never one to enjoy that kind of comfort anyways.

I don't know how else to end this section so....imagine him holding your hand :) DO IT NOW

Pesci

If someone were to describe you, they sure would call you brave, headstrong, and....maybe not the brightest? You aren't stupid! You just...aren't the smartest, and it's very clear. However, your open nature makes it easy for Pesci to talk to you.

You see the sides of Pesci that a lot of people take way too long to notice, like how observant and clever he can be. You don't see him as too soft, you know that he takes his job as seriously as he can.

While his meeker nature doesn't do much to dilute your chaos, he never feels bad about it! You're the light of his life, and honestly he really looks up to you!

If you want to stand up for him when his teammates pick on him, go ahead! I mean, the only thing you'll achieve is becoming their second target, but uh....maybe it's a bonding opportunity?? Even if nothing comes from it, he will love you forever.

Melone

What a fucking prude you are. A prude based on NOTHING. My goodness. Were you a sheltered child perhaps? Jokes aside it's a miracle you two can stand each other. Melone isn't picky with partners but someone like you? You're so incompatible at first that the gang assumed he had other plans for chasing you.

Emphasis on at first. Maybe you were a challenge to him, a "passion project" to see how much he could open you up one way or another. I can't say which ways it worked or not, that's for your own interpretation, but in time you became the most annoying couple the team had ever seen.

If you weren't teasing each other, you were bickering in a tease-y way. And if you weren't bickering, Melone was teaching you some sciencey shit in a voice so syrupy sweet that Ghiaccio's practically retching.

Maybe you try to flip the script, try to pick his brain and open him up like he tries to do to you; oh you're lucky he loves you so much, you're the one person he will do anything for.

Ghiaccio

Growing up the way he did, he learned that everything about him is wrong, and everyone is a threat at worst, liability at best. Even you, with your patient smile and kind words and....how you actually...listened to him rant.

He's scared of you, then pissed at you, then so confused by you he doesn't know what to do. If you didn't make the first move then a relationship just isn't happening. While he's the more assertive of you two, you'll have to do the heavy lifting just that once.

Falling for a person so different is easier, but maintaining the relationship is harder on his end, I'm not even going to lie. Sometimes he's frustrated by your unconditional love, sometimes there's a savior-like feeling he has about you, sometimes he fears these ever-changing feelings, and tried to distance himself from you. But you...always help him through it.

And don't think it's only you changing him, he also encourages you to stand up for yourself, to speak your mind, to put your own mask on first sometimes. (insert italian screaming)

Risotto

He's not emotionless, at least...he doesn't like to think so. But in this line of work he needs to keep a tight lip and blank stare. Something he's perfected. So when he watches you openly sob at a movie, curled against his body as you sniffle and choke, he doesn't get moved to the same extent.

Do you get to see Risotto's true emotions? Yes...in time. You've both got targets tattooed to your back, so if he ever thinks it's safe enough to get close to you to the point of being openly emotional, it's because you've spent several YEARS together.

But he understands you, he feels the same as you as you shout or grin or cry. Not only does he understand your emotions, but you may be secretly amplifying his own. There's no tears, but a tearing, clawing feeling in his heart. No smile, but a fuzz in his face that he can't clear out.

You are the ocean and he is a rock, standing strong through every storm and watching both the rage and the calm with equal admiration.

#i feel like when creating these reader personalities im mildly insulting these guys :sob: #i wrote that tag forever ago and realizing that sounds like an insult to the reader character too GDJGSFHD #NO BECAUSE THE MORE I WRITE THIS THE RUDER I AM TO THE READER. I HATE YOU ALL /j #by the way just in case. do not compare the reader to other members of la squadra. dont turn this into character x character ships. #it would make me incredibly uncomfortable. #formaggio x reader #formaggio #illuso x reader #illuso #prosciutto #prosciutto x reader #pesci #pesci x reader #melone x reader #melone #ghiaccio #ghiaccio x reader #risotto #risotto x reader #jjba #jjba x reader #la squadra x reader #la squadra headcanons #la squadra