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mydearlybeloathed · 5 months

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𝐀 𝐂𝐀𝐌𝐏 𝐇𝐀𝐋𝐅𝐁𝐋𝐎𝐎𝐃 𝐂𝐇𝐑𝐈𝐒𝐓𝐌𝐀𝐒

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: you decided to create a real life frosty the snowman for estelle blofis, a regular camp visitor. it goes... unexpectedly.

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: jason grace x fem!boreas!reader

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 6k (wow)

𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭: child of boreas reader, female reader, snowmen, ethically ambiguous magic, more plot than fluff im sorry, tooth rotting fluff towards the end, daddy issues i think maybe, serious angst ngl, i will never be normal about jason grace, canon who?

𝐚/𝐧: this had no reason to be so emotionally taxing but here we are

Being the boyfriend of a Boreas kid meant two things happened every night: one, sneaking you in from your lonely cabin to his lonely cabin, and two, sleeping with nearly a hundred different blankets.

Normally, he fell asleep easy despite the chill, but there was a lot of work waiting for him back New Rome. Jason knew this holiday at Camp Halfblood was only making that work pile up, but he tired, so he didn't care just yet. He could let the anxiety catch him after Christmas. Plus, the longer he was away from work the longer he was with you.

Jason had been away doing Roman things for at least two months, and Iris Messages and the occasional phone call weren’t cutting in anymore; despite your cold shouldered father, you were as clingy as all get out. Not that Jason minded (he was clingy too).

The next fall of New Rome University couldn't seem to get there any slower. You were both going to be there, thank the gods.

Jason started to grin at just the thought, his eyes skimming all over your peaceful face as you breathed in and out slowly. The two of you were practically buried under all the blankets, and he would have been miserably hot if it weren’t for his amazing cooler system of a girlfriend.

“You’re staring,” you suddenly sang out softly, a mischievous smirk taking your face.

Jason’s heart sped up. “I thought you were asleep.”

“Creep,” you mumbled.

He reached over to caress your cheek, tucking some stray hairs behind your ear. You leaned into his touch and twisted in the blankets, wrapping your arms around his middle and nuzzling into his chest.

He pressed a light kiss to your hairline and rested his arm on your waist. “What’s up?”

“Just thinking.”

“About?”

You blinked blearily up at him. “Christmas. I’ve been working on something.”

“Care to share?” Jason had known you long enough to know you were serious about Christmas surprises. This time of year your powers were strongest, and you always took advantage of that.

You lightly patted his chest and snuggled deeper into bed. “Mhmm. When it’s ready. Can’t let anything get out or else Mr. D will so shut it down.”

Jason was officially intrigued. “What exactly… never mind. I'd rather sleep easy.”

You leaned up to kiss his jaw. “Good choice.”

He caught your lips before you could get back to sleep, cupping you cheek in his hand and drawing you close for an everlasting moment. The thundering mosaic on the ceiling was as annoying as ever, and he swore he could feel the statue of his dad staring holes into him.

So Jason pulled the pile of covers up to hide the two of you away, thriving off your little giggle as he pulled you in once more.

જ⁀➴

A week till Christmas, and you finally felt ready to cast the enchantment. Giddiness ran through your whole body all morning, along with some nerves, of course.

It all began when you heard Chiron reading a story to some of the littler campers. They were year rounders and were feeling homesick, whining and crying so much their counselors couldn't get anything done. So, he read to them, taking some Christmas storybook from Athena Cabin and frantically narrating the tale of Frosty the Snowman.

You’d been coming by to drop off some paperwork from your well-enough paying job in the Big House, lamenting being unable to find a suitable gift for Percy's little sister Estelle. She'd be coming to camp for the Christmas Day bonfires with her mother and father, and you had yet to find something she would like.

As you dropped off your papers you heard the older of the littles cry out that she wished it would snow in camp. Another then exclaimed he wished they had their own magic snowman.

Mr. D was in the next room over, promptly laughing and popping the kids dream bubble. You weren’t having that, not one bit. And suddenly, you had your perfect gift.

The only reasonable solution was to learn how to create a magic snowman.

(Jason would later call you crazy, which is basically a declaration of love, you think.)

You sat alone in the dim lighting of your cabin, which you shared with no one but the dust bunnies. Boreas didn’t really hoe around much, which you supposed was nice, aside from the fact that it left you no roommates. Nights used to get lonely before you and Jason started saying fuck to the rules.

Little snowflakes danced around your palms before they went spiraling into the air and exploded into dozens of flurries. Slowly, bit by bit, the snow started to pile up all around you, creating a blanket of white across the floor. You had the snow down, now, you just had to trust you had your sorcery skills down.

A knock on the cabin’s skylight startled you.

You smiled, calling up, “What’s the password?”

“Jason has the coolest girlfriend ever.”

“Not quite.”

There was a sigh. “Shiver me timbers.”

“Access granted,” you sang in reply, an all too satisfied smirk planted on your face.

The skylight creaked open, letting in the moonlight as well as your boyfriend. He shivered instantly. No matter how high you set the thermostat, the Boreas cabin was always freezing. Not that it ever bothered you, anyway.

A snow flurry landed on his nose, sending Jason into a sneezing fit. “Still working?”

“Mhmm.” He watched as you tried and failed to hide a yawn.

A little smile sprouted on his face as he rolled his eyes. “All right. Bed time.”

You shot him a glare. “Don’t baby me.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it, but I’m afraid I can’t sleep without you,” he said softly, holding out a hand with such a pretty look in his eyes. If he kept on looking at you like that, you might as well fall in love with him already.

“Fine,” you sighed, plopping your hand into his and letting him haul you to your feet. “Only because you can’t function without me.”

You wrung your arms around his neck and flushed yourself against him, his arms tight around you and a cute blush in his cheeks.

A light breeze kissed your cheek as he rose off the floor, keeping one arm around your waist while the other pushed open the skylight.

“Air Jason, taking off,” you said, doing your best to mimic a pilot’s microphone and failing miserably. Jason loved it though, an airy laugh bubbling from his lips as the night air met the pair of you with no regret.

“You’re such a dork,” he muttered into your ear, eliciting a poke to the ribs from you. Jason dropped a few feet in the air and nearly sent you into cardiac arrest, a scream leaving you as your legs clambered to wrap around his waist.

Jason was laughing for gods’ sake, shushing you as he picked up speed to reach Cabin One before the harpies caught you. “Sorry, sorry.”

In through the open window and down to the floor, the wind carried you all the way, a soft caress on your skin as if the air meant to comfort the two of you. You were going to ask him if he felt it too when a wave of exhaustion found you, and you started to lean into Jason, not letting him go even when your feet touched the ground.

He rubbed gently circles into your back, his chin coming to rest on your head, eyes closing. You were cold to touch, as always, but Jason would gladly get frostbite just to hold you forever.

Eyes soft, you caught corners of glittery lights in your peripheral, turning to find a Christmas tree that had definitely not been there a few hours ago. A smile split onto your face as you rushed up to it, admiring the rainbow lights and mismatched ornaments.

Jason must’ve gone through the Big House attic to find all these. You picked off an ornament of Olympus, a selfie of a smiling Apollo and a less than pleased Dionysus staring out from the little city of the gods.

“It’s perfect,” you said, spinning back around to find Jason there.

He had that look in his eyes. You know, the one that takes all the air out of you and leaves you craving nothing more than his very presence. “One more thing.”

You followed his gaze to the ceiling, lip slipping between your teeth to contain your smile. “Mistletoe?”

His hand came to cup your cheek, eyes dipping low. “Hey, I don’t make the rules.”

How could you argue with that? Without warning you lurched forward and sent Jason stumbling back, lips meeting his in a feverish moment.

જ⁀➴

Dawn was encroaching on the camp.

There was barely a noise all across the Long Island Sound, aside from the sea meeting land, the ruffling of the harpies’ feathers, and the contented snores coming from each cabin. In the stables the pegasi huffed and dealt with the faux antlers stuck to their heads. Mr. D sat snoring in a rocking chair on the Big House deck.

The tall and proud Christmas tree at the center of camp stood looming over Hestia’s fire. Her warm face could be spied through the flickering flames, if one looked close enough. Beneath the tree’s branches were boxed gifts, some from attentive godly parents, but most placed there by Chiron (he never bothered correcting the campers when they assumed Santa Claus came in the night).

Garlands and wreaths hung from every doorway. Mistletoe was easy to find from the awnings of the Aphrodite Cabin. Poinsettias bloomed over the rooftop of Demeter’s Cabin. The smell of cookies and candy canes wafted out from the camp kitchens, the dryads tossing bits of flour and sugar at each other as they prepared something special.

It was a Camp Halfblood Christmas if you’d ever seen one.

The only thing missing was snow.

You stood on the hilltop overlooking the center of camp, embracing the December chill. The magical borders prevented outside weather from affecting the camp, but they did nothing to stop weather coming from the inside.

Flexing your palms and shaking them out, you let out a breath that crystallized in the frigid air. The water in the air bended to your will, the clouds gathered at you command. You didn’t pretend to understand weather and the science of it all, you just knew that when the water in the clouds got cold enough…

Your concentration was unrelenting even as the first few snowflakes drifted down from above, following the current of air down the valley of camp. You would need a lot more than that. Glancing at the sun peeking up over the horizon, you pushed past your growing fatigue.

There would be snow that Christmas Day if you had anything to do about it.

જ⁀➴

Jason noticed right away that the familiar warmth of your freezing body was missing from his side. Rubbing the sleep from his eyes he rolled over and noticed that your shoes weren’t at the foot of the bed.

The whole cabin was freezing, but without you, it was just getting on his nerves. He was ready to get up, throw on a coat, and maybe just start yelling your name to find you wherever you’d run off to.

That was when he looked out the window. Jason’s jaw slacked, his eyes pleasantly wide and bright as a laugh tore out of him. He jumped up and didn’t bother with shoes as he flung open the cabin’s door and ran into the snow.

Everywhere a white layer of snow sat heavy on benches, picnic tables, the cabins—nothing was safe from this Christmas Day miracle.

He laughed again and raked his hands through his hair. So this is what you’d been working so secretively on. Jason really should have guessed sooner.

The sound of boots in the snow caught his attention and he glanced over to see Piper hurling a snowball at Leo’s head. Leo sputtered when the snow hit his face, a sly grin all over his face.

Piper laughed behind her hand and noticed Jason struggling to pull on sneakers in his doorway. She dodged a melty snowball from Leo’s warm hands and jogged toward him. Her voice was tangled with a smile. “Did you know she was planning this?”

“Nope,” he said, popping the p. All around camp kids were racing outside, slipping on the icy snow and tossing on any warm clothes they could find. You were still nowhere to be seen. “Have you seen her?”

Piper shook her head and made to say something when a handful of snow was dumped down the back of her shirt. She gasped and whirled around, shivering despite the hot anger in her eyes, and took off after a cackling Leo without another word.

Snickering, Jason took another look around, sighing when he couldn’t see you in the midst of excited campers.

He turned around to go grab a jacket when a soft noise caught his attention. Some kind of grunting, followed by a startled yelp. Jason started to smile. He’d know that sound anywhere. He followed the noise around the side of his cabin, tilting his head at the sight.

You were red in the face, using all your might to roll a giant ball of snow, struggling to say the least. Estelle was standing by with rapt attention, excitement written all over her face.

Jason went to stand beside Estelle, kneeling to be at her height. He leaned in to stage-whisper, “Do you think she needs some help?”

You looked up, stopping in the process of pushing your back against the snow, huffing and puffing through your glare. Estelle giggled. “Probably.”

He saw it in your face; you wanted to flip him off, only refraining given the current company. Estelle’s eyes gleamed up at him along with a bucktooth smile. “We’re building a snowman!”

“We?” you huffed, tucking your hair out of your face and behind your ears. “I didn’t know we were pronouncing my name as we now.”

Estelle rolled her eyes. “I’m supervising.”

“Honestly, I think ‘Stelle’s doing the heavy lifting,” Jason teased.

You sighed and turned to face your work. “That’s one layer. Jason, you do the middle.”

Still grinning, he was going to protest before doing exactly as you said, when a voice echoed across the lawn. One of the Stolls (Jason knew they were a few years apart but he still could never remember which was which) was approaching, a snowball in hand.

“Yo, Y/N!” he called. “It’s getting a little soggy over here!”

You smiled like this wasn’t the first time someone had had this complaint, wasting no time in cracking your neck and splaying out your hands. A cold rush of wind enveloped you, a firm crease in your brows, before the another wave of snow rained down from the clouds.

The Stoll brother shouted his thanks, and you meant to offer a smile when suddenly the world got tipsy, everything going black for a split second as you teetered off balance. Jason’s heart dropped and he rushed to your side, steadying you against him.

“Hey, hey, you with me?”

You blinked blankly, though you nodded despite the greenish tint in your cheeks that was quickly fading. Still, Jason wanted nothing more than to sit you down and cast lighting upon anyone who tried to use you like a snow machine again.

“I’m fine,” you assured him, gaining your color back. “Just a bit tired keeping all of this up.”

Estelle was attempting to finish the snowman on her own, promptly falling face first into the snow and sputtering to her feet. You giggled at her expense, not realizing you were still leaning mostly on Jason.

He wasn’t done questioning. “How long did it take to cover the whole camp?”

“Oh, uhm.” Your brows drew together, lips pursed. “A few hours. No big deal.”

You broke away from Jason and went to help Estelle roll along another giant snowball, casting Jason a reassuring smile. He let out a sigh and tried to let it go, going to help with the snowman construction.

The three of you finished the three layers of the snowman’s body, and Estelle ran off to collect the decorations and came back with a box, her brother, and her brother’s girlfriend.

Percy held Estelle on his shoulders, the box of supplies in Annabeth’s arms. You wiped your brow and smiled so brightly upon spying them, that Jason nearly forgot you’d been focusing on continuing the snowfall all along, slowly draining yourself.

Before he could call you out you sprang to your feet and went to pick the carrot out of the box. Annabeth chuckled and said, “I had to fight Blackjack for that.”

“Aww,” you hummed through a giggle. “Poor guy.”

Percy scoffed. “Please, he gets enough carrots. He could spare us at least five.”

Before you even had the chance to reply Estelle had jumped up to swipe the carrot from your hand. A response was barely on you lips when she nearly toppled the whole snowman over trying to stick the nose on its blank face.

You sighed and went to help her, scooping your hands under her arms and lifting her so she could reach its face.

The morning went by as Piper and Leo approached the finished snowman with hot cocoa in hand. Piper sported a grin as she looked at you and said, “Mr. D is furious.”

“I hoped so,” you said.

As Piper knelt to talk to Estelle you once again chose to ignore the weightiness in your shoulders, swallowing thickly to deal with your drying throat, and walked to the near empty box. Inside was a top hat you’d been saving for last. This was what the practice was leading up to.

“Hey, Stelle,” you called. Jason came to your shoulder, brows drawn, and you shot him a smirk. “Have Percy help you put the hat on top.”

She needed no more asking, taking her brother’s hand and dragging him to the snowman. Percy lifted her just as you had, and as Estelle rested the silk top hat on the snowman’s head, you held out a hand, worked some Boreas kid magic, and sent up a prayer to your dear old dad. A flurry of snowflakes shot out from your palm and right to the heart of the snowman.

You waited on bated breath as Estelle’s boot crunched back to the snowy ground, your gaze locked on the unmoving creature of snow. One second, then two, then three, until a minute passed. Estelle ran back to Annabeth and started ranting about something, Percy right behind her as he slung an arm around Annabeth’s shoulders. Piper and Leo engaged in another snowball fight, hot cocoa discarded on the ground.

And the snowman stood still. Your lips pursed with confusion and frustration. Jason appeared beside you again, looking from you to the snowman. “What’re we glaring at Frosty for?”

“Nothing,” you dismissed with a forced grin. You let out a sigh and intertwined your fingers with his, pressing a swift kiss to the back of his hand. “Wanna head inside? You’re shivering.”

He shook his head and slipped an arm around your waist. He was warm and soft and despite how much you loved the cold, you’d never get tired of it. But you couldn’t focus on that right now; you were too disappointed.

That was until he tried to lead Jason back to his cabin anyway, and your boyfriend had a full stop, his eyes slightly horrified while also mystified. Brows pinched, you were on the verge of asking what was wrong when his hand gripped your chin. You flushed deep red at the action, another rush of warmth hitting you, but then Jason was turning your head to follow his line of sight.

A bright laugh escaped you. There, made of snow, two button eyes, and a carrot nose, was Estelle’s snowman. But now, he was living and breathing, the little twig eyebrows on him drawn taut as he examined himself, looking at himself tree branch arms.

The lot around you stood in shock, looking from you to your creation. You laughed again quite like a mad scientist, and dropped Jason’s hand to slowly approach the snowman.

“Hello,” you said, and he considered you with a blank button stare, the line of chocolate chips making his mouth curved down into a frown.

“What am I?” he asked you, dropping his arms to his sides. He looked very contemplative for a snowman.

“A snowman,” you answered brightly.

The snowman hummed. His voice was soft, reminding you of the sound of crackling fire. Ironic. “I don’t think I’m meant to be alive. I feel… odd.”

Your smile started to fade, and you glanced back at your friends for help. Estelle stood awestruck, slowly stomping through the snow to stand at your side. She took your hand and looked up at the snowman with shining eyes.

The snowman looked back at her, going quiet. “Hello.”

Estelle started to smile. “Hi. My name’s Estelle, and this is Y/N. Those are our friends.” She jabbed a thumb back at the others. “Oh, do you have a name?”

He seemed to turn thoughtful, nodding. “I believe it was Perseus.”

Estelle let out a tiny gasp. “That’s what I called you! In my head!” She turned to you in complete and utter amazement. “How did he know that?”

You could only shake you head with a smile, squeezing her hand. “I dunno. Magic?” You couldn’t help but laugh once more, casting a glance up at the sky. The wind brushed through your hair, feeling oddly like a father’s hand ruffling a daughter’s hair.

You’d never met your father, but you doubted he was a cold as the weather.

Percy, Annabeth, Leo, and Piper came to admire the snowman, introducing themselves as he assessed them one by one. Jason hooked an arm around your waist, pulling you side against his, and you practically melted onto him. Your legs felt a tad bit weak.

He pressed a lingering kiss to your temple, whispering in your ear. “You astonish me.”

A smile split onto your face as you turned to kiss his cheek. Percy started to laugh as he looked upon the snowman. “Perseus the Snowman, huh?”

Perseus was holding Estelle’s hand as she rattled on about camp and how cool her big brother was and all about the Greek gods. Perseus listened with unabashed attention, the crease in his twig brows alluding to his curiosity.

Annabeth sidled up to you, unsure how to phrase her question. “Do you… Well, was this smart?”

You gave her an odd look. “What do you mean?”

The wise daughter of Athena settled you with her seriousness. “He’s snow… you can’t keep him that way forever.”

Her words rattled you to your core, and for once, you felt the chill of December.

Morning passed to evening, and you stayed stuck to Jason’s side more by exhaustion than by choice. Not that you minded, but the jelly feeling in your legs was less than pleasant. It took some work to ward off the curious campers from bombarding Perseus, who proved to be a rather anxious snowman.

Christmas Day passed by answering the endless questions of a snowman, explaining everything he could ever want to know.

Piper and Leo had gone off to lead ornament making with their respective cabins, being head counselors and all, and Percy and Annabeth went to make an obligatory holiday call to the latter’s father. Leaving only you, Jason, Estelle, and Perseus.

The four of you were at a picnic table close to the woods, the demigods sat atop the table and the snowman rolled up to the side.

Your energy was slowly but surely coming back to you. With the sun crossing the sky and starting to descend, the need for snow was waning. You hadn’t had a demand for a few hours, and to be honest, you were grateful. Your eyes felt droopy and your shoulders ached. You wanted to sleep, but you had one more thing to keep focused on: Perseus the Snowman.

Jason drew gentle shapes on your hand, letting you lay your head on his lap as Estelle told the harrowing tale of how Percy defeated Clarisse La Rue in his very first game of capture the flag.

You were having trouble looking at your snowman. From what he said when Estelle let out a yawn, he knew exactly why.

“Look at that,” he said, drawing everyone’s attention. His button eyes swept across the lawn of camp, where the snow was melting into the grass under the heat of the setting sun. His eyes turned to you, then. “You’re letting it all melt.”

You sat up and crossed your legs, resting your hands in your lap. You blinked at him, a tug on your heart. “Yes.”

He could only stare back at you. “You’re keeping me, though.”

Perseus was very perceptive for a snowman. You smiled at him. “We’re not done talking to you.”

He smiled back. “That’s true. And when we’re done talking?”

Estelle was looking between all of you, a confused purse in her lips. Jason cleared his throat and asked her to get him earmuffs from his cabin. She nodded and ran off, nearly tripping over herself. You sent him a look. “You don’t own earmuffs.”

“Oops,” he murmured through a grin. Perseus was watching the pair of you almost fondly.

You turned back to him and searched for the words to say, but it was all lost on you. Jason continued to rub soothing circles into your skin. All the words you knew suddenly boiled over. “I’m sorry. I didn’t think what would happen when… You know.”

Perseus shifted around, a gentle chocolate chip smile on his face as he took in the scenery. “Don’t be sorry. I’m happy to have lived.”

“But… you’re going to die,” you couldn’t help but say, as if he needed reminding.

He didn’t. That much was clear by his smile. “Don’t be sorry,” he echoed. “I’ll be happy to die. Snowmen aren’t meant for longevity.”

Your throat constricted. “It’s all my fault. I wasn’t thinking.”

“You were thinking of Estelle,” he said. “I’ve made her happy. I’m perfectly fine with melting.”

You cupped a hand over your mouth and averted your eyes just as Estelle came sprinting back, chest heaving as she lamented being unable to find any earmuffs.

“It’s cool, Stelle,” Jason said, forcing a smile.

She plopped back down and huffed, looking to Perseus, then the sunset. Perseus glittered in the light, and it took you far too long to realize it wasn’t glitter, but dew.

Estelle, angel she is, noticed it too. “Perseus, are you melting?” Before he could even think to answer she was turning on you, a fire in her gaze. “Make him better.”

You would—gods, all of Olympus knew you would, if only you weren’t exhausted. You gaped like a fish, squeezing Jason’s hand. Perseus the Snowman shook his head. “No, there’s no need.”

He reached out a wooden arm and she gently wrapped her little fingers around the splintered edges of his crooked hand. “I don’t fear death.”

Estelle’s jaw hung slack for an everlasting moment. “Well, I do! Y/N, do it.”

Jason tensed and snapped, “Stelle, that’s not fair.”

She didn’t seem to care in the slightest.

“Estelle,” Perseus drew her attention back to him. “You’ll make more snowmen.”

She shook her head hopelessly, eyes going glassy. “No, I won’t. I won’t ever make another snowman.”

“How sad,” said Perseus. “Never?”

Estelle wiped her nose on her sleeve and looked at the ground. “Maybe, not never.”

The snowman started to smile again. His button eyes roamed over them all, stopping on the sky, and he sighed. “What a wonderful day to be alive.”

You turned your face so no one would see you crying. Jason's hold on your hand was the only thing sobering you up enough to remain on the picnic table, watching the sunset with your snowman.

The god Astraeus painted the sky with vibrant yellows, pinks, and oranges in a sunset to rival all others. It was too beautiful. Perseus kept his blank gaze settled on it alone, his hand still in Estelle’s. You and Jason sat rigid behind them as time ticked away.

The moon rose expectantly to take its place as the sun started to hide under the horizon. The yellows and pinks made way for the dark blue of night creeping in. Only then did Perseus shift his gaze back to Estelle. “I’m ready now.”

A crease grew in your brow when Estelle nodded, understanding what you did not, and she stood up on the table to reach over Perseus’ head. With shaky hands she reached for his hat, glancing down at him, worrying her lip between her teeth.

All Perseus did was smile. “Merry Christmas.”

The little girl took in a wavering breath. “Merry Christmas.” And she removed the hat, lifting it off his head, and in an instant all hints of emotion left the snowman. Nothing changed at all, but each of you could see it; those buttons held life behind them no longer.

You bit down hard on your lip. “How did you know that would work?”

She shrugged, setting the hat down on the snow. “I didn’t.”

The sound of footfalls on the snow had you turning around. Chiron approached, a sorry look in his eyes, and he stopped a few feet off. “Everyone has gathered around the tree.”

You took Estelle’s hand in yours, steeling yourself and offered her a smile that she slowly returned. Jason moved to walk at your side as you followed Chiron to the center of camp. The tree lit up most of camp, stretching high and out.

Campers were singing off key here and there. A pair of girls was caught under the mistletoe, one laughing awkwardly before the moon eyed one swooped in for a gentle peck on her lips. Gifts were being exchanged. Snow balls were thrown. A snowman was being built by some younger Hermes kids too.

“Hey!” Percy called out, cheeks flushed as he sipped on his apple cider. One arm was slung around his girlfriend who was talking in low voices with Thalia. The lot of your friends were gathered around one of the many little fires scattered around the lawn.

He offered you and Jason each a blue gingerbread man, grinning ear to ear. “Mom made ‘em.”

You looked around for Mrs. Blofis and found her at a nearby table, handing out marshmallows for roasting with Mr. Blofis at her side. Mr. Blofis wasn’t doing much handing out, instead in what seemed to be a deep conversation with Mr. D. The god of wine was gesturing wildly as he regaled some kind of story.

All was well. All was calm. You found it in yourself to actually smile.

Guilt wasn’t very far, wondering truly what you had been thinking bringing a snowman to life, when a particularly harsh bout of wind blew all your hair into your face. You sputtered through a giggle and swiped your hair to the side, your voice faltering when you caught sight of a man standing on the outskirts of the bonfires and chatter.

It couldn’t be. You stepped away from Jason and the rest, approaching the stranger. He stood tall, with a suit that glittered like snow. Two purple wings arched from his shoulder blades. What could your father want with you on Christmas?

“Hi,” you said, not sure where to start.

He stirred like he was uncomfortable. “Yes, hello, daughter.”

You had the heart to grin. “Merry Christmas.”

Boreas nearly scoffed before he corrected himself with a nod. “You as well.”

The silence to follow was tense. You motioned with your hand vaguely. “Is there a reason you’re here?”

You weren’t sure how to feel about meeting your father. You’d imagined this moment countless times, but it all led up to this anticlimactic reveal that was more amusing than aweing.

“There is,” he huffed. “I thought I would let you know your little magic act didn’t harm anything.”

“What do you mean?” you asked, heart dropping.

“I mean that the snowman is not dead,” Boreas informed you. “The snowman itself was never alive, I suppose. I’m impressed, I should say. You managed to catch a snow spirit and wrangle it into that snowman. Normally, snow spirits don’t get lives… You did a good thing, I suppose, giving that spirit one. He remembers it all. Perseus, as you called him, is living free and wild, as a snow spirit should be.”

You hadn’t realized your eyes were watering, relief coursing through you. “Oh, thanks gods. I’m not murderer.”

Boreas chuckled softly. “You’re not.” He averted his eyes, raising a hand and pausing, unsure, before he settled it on your shoulder and met your eyes. “I’m… proud of you. I don’t have many children. You’re certainly one I don’t regret.”

You blinked up at him, reaching to awkwardly pat his forearm. “Thanks, Dad.”

He nodded stiffly, backed away, and with a last Merry Christmas, he vanished in a flurry of snowflakes. One landed on your nose and gave you an ever rare shiver.

Jason’s arm wrapped around you, his warmth enveloping you like a nice blanket. “You good?”

Nodding, you leaned your head on his shoulder. “Very.”

Curfew was extended that night, much to the herpes disappointment. Treats and drinks were devoured by greedy children and finally, at the end of the night, Chiron gave the word and a stampede of kids ran to tear open the gifts they’d been eyeing for weeks.

After the younger kids had grabbed theirs and the crowd died down, your group moved in to find the gifts with your names on them. Your dad gifted you a snowglobe of camp. You shook it up with a smile, not noticing your sweating boyfriend approach you from behind.

“Y/N?” You turned, smile widening. Jason only got more nervous. “Uhm… I…”

You set the snowglobe back in its box on the ground and stepped closer to him, taking his hands in your freezing ones. “Yeah?”

“I love you,” he blurted. “So much.”

Your grin grew painful with how big it was. “And I love you.”

Jason blushed and took a deep breath. “You’ve been with me through… everything. When I wasn’t sure who I was, when Hera manipulated me and Piper, through the war.” He was out of breath, only one thought on his mind: no words would ever be enough. “I’m so in love with you. I can’t explain how much. Just when I think about it I can’t breathe.”

Your face had fallen into admiration. Jason’s thumb rubbed anxious lines on your knuckles. “I never want to spend a day without you. You deserve everything, I want to give it to you.”

“Jason…” Your voice was shaky, tapering off.

“Don’t worry,” he nearly whispered, moving to cup your cheek. “I’m not asking you to marry me. Not yet.” You giggled and he swore it was better than ambrosia. “I will though. I promise I will.”

You were too busy reaching to take his face in your hands to notice when he pulled something out of his pocket. You leaned forward to kiss the very life out of him, and he would very much have let you, but he drew you back with his hold on your jaw, chuckling when you frowned.

He held up a little velvet box between your bodies. Suddenly you weren’t so interested in kissing him, swiping the box from him with greedy hands and gleaming eyes. You popped the box open, admiring the pretty silver chain laid within. “Oh, it’s beautiful.”

“Here.” Jason turned you around and offered to clip it around your neck. He didn’t waste the opportunity, peppering kisses from the skin behind your ear down to your shoulder, relishing in the little quiver you gave in response. “Merry Christmas.”

Whirling back around, you jumped him, arms flinging around his neck as you crushed your lips to his. You pulled back for barely a second to mumble, “Merry Christmas” before your tongue pushed past his lips, your teeth catching his bottom lip.

“Woah! Woah! No PDA in my camp!” You groaned and ripped away from Jason, rolling your eyes as you cast Mr. D a glare over your shoulder.

Jason wasn’t so cocky anymore, red from neck to nose. “Sorry!”

“I don’t get paid enough…”

You and your boyfriend locked eyes, breaking down into a round of laughter as the grumpy god stomped away.

“Hey!” Piper jumped out of nowhere, Leo hot on her tail. Both were totally buzzed, and all you could do was laugh and wonder how on earth they’d snuck in alcohol. “Come sing carols, lovebirds!”

The pair of you followed the pair of them back to the little bonfire your friends had claimed. Fiddling with your necklace, you eyes scanned across them all to land on Jason, and a rush of adoration hit you like a freight train. You pecked his cheek and watched him stumble over a chuckle, returning a kiss to your hairline.

Then, as you leaned your head on his shoulder, a snowflake crossed your eye.

One by one, the sky became littered with flurries. Annabeth held up a hand as if to catch some. “Y/N, you’ve got to be tired by now. Take a rest.”

You shook you head slowly, confused. “This isn’t me.”

The winter wind kissed your cheek, and you were left at a loss. But Estelle—sweet Estelle, who sat between her brother and Annabeth—she knew. A little grin appeared on her face. “Goodbye, Perseus.”

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an--artistic--autistic · 8 months

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i am unreasonably proud and excited about this

#disability #chronic pain #mobility aid #i am officially running a thing to make my university accessible #i am so ready to fight people over it and I've recruited a bunch of people #we may or may not end up in our local news too #im done with this shit #literally on Friday had to walk around the building bc the elevator broke again and i couldn't do stairs #should take 30 seconds instead took like 10 minutes

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heartpascal · 8 months

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please don’t lose it again

— joel miller x platonic!f!reader

— summary: the aftermath

— a/n: i’m replaying tlou2 and got to the scene again. this followed. sorry if the flow isn’t great!! im all over the place. please please please heed warnings. love you so much. not the official ending for itdws!

— warnings: major tlou 2 spoilers, major character death, grief, burying a loved one, loss, spoilers for itdws, throwing up / vomiting (referenced, not really explicit), all the stages of grief in like 3 minutes, guilt, blame, being sad, GORE, or descriptions of gore, and dead bodies

— taglist: @rhymingtree @sleepygraves @wnstice (everything) @auggiesolovey @just-kaylaa @evyiione @lemonlaides @faceache111 @randomhoex @canpillowscry @pedropascalsrealgf @star-wars-lover @coolchick333 @soobsdior @rvjaa @sunflowersdrop @definitely-not-a-seagull-i-swear @miss-celestial-being (pedro)

a what if one shot from the if the door wasn’t shut universe!

masterlist (part one , part two , part three , part four , part five )

∘₊✧───── ───── ───── ─────✧₊∘

The world is full of horrors.

You learned that much a long, long time ago. In your formative years, your youth, when you were actually a child, you had experienced more horrors than you could name. You didn’t have enough hands to count them on. There was loss and there was pain and there was Joel.

There was a brief time, after arriving to Jackson, where you didn’t have Joel. A part of you always knew he would come back. Not for you, that was true, but you had always known that he would be back. That he wasn’t gone in the way so many were. That Tess was. In the very depths of your mind, he lingered. Even if he had left you behind, he was still with you, in the worst of ways.

You have never lived in a world which didn’t have Joel Miller.

He had always seemed untouchable. Unmovable. As if the world could only move around him.

You never thought you would have to live in a world without him.

There was always a certainty that you’d held. Joel would outlive you. He would survive, where you wouldn’t. Despite how you had improved in your skills out in the wild, in the back of your mind, when you saw Joel, you had always believed he would be the one to bury you.

Because even if Joel hadn’t stayed for you, he would surely stay for your death. It was who he was. Always the survivor, always the one to bury the bodies, always the one left.

You had never considered what it would be like to bury Joel.

Even now, as you sit with your hand pressed against the freshly turned earth, frozen at your fingertips, you aren’t sure you really know what it’s like. Because, surely, there’s no way that Joel Miller could be reduced to this. A body in the dirt. A faceless name left upon a headstone, forgotten in a garden of the dead.

He was alive yesterday.

He was alive.

How could they have buried him? You think of the way the dirt has iced over, numbing your fingers. You wonder how much effort had gone into plunging a shovel into the dirt. How much ice had formed on Joel’s skin when they put him in there?

He would be cold, out here. Without the jacket you knew was hung up in his closet. He would be cold.

“C’mon,” Jesse said, faintly. “Put your gloves on.” He tried, crouching beside you, beside Joel, with the very gloves Joel had gotten you held in his hands. Did you thank him, for those? You needed to. You needed to thank him.

You turn your head away from the wooden headstone, the clumsy carving that Joel could’ve done better, the letters spelling his name. If you don’t look, if you turn your face away, or close your eyes, Joel is still out on patrol. He’s wearing his jacket, holding his gun, pressing a warm hand against his hip in his signature pose. He’s not cold.

But when you turn back, it’s still his name. The ground is still frozen, and as much as you press your hand against the dirt, Joel doesn’t reach towards you. Joel doesn’t do anything. Joel stays buried underneath frozen dirt, underneath snow and ice. Joel stays cold.

Jesse’s hand is warm when he grips your own, his stare concerned and helpless. You wonder what would have happened if it had been you on patrol. If you were the one taking Joel and Tommy off duty. You wonder if you could’ve saved him. You pull your hand away.

He follows you when you stand up.

When you look back, Joel’s headstone blends in with the others. There’s nothing remarkable setting it apart, nothing screaming that it was Joel and he had been alive yesterday.

You wonder who the other headstones belong to. You wonder if anybody remembers them. You wonder why nobody is here, visiting. You wonder if Joel’s grave will end up the same way.

Vaguely, you notice that you’re counting. As you walk, you count the crunch of snow beneath your boots. There are thirty-three steps from Joel’s grave to his door. Thirty-three measly steps between his home, and where his body is buried. Did he know, yesterday, when he was drinking his morning coffee — the coffee you had brought him — that he would spend the rest of time buried thirty-three steps away? Did he have any idea that he would never come home? That he would always be thirty-three steps away?

Tommy is stood in the house when you walk in. His head is bruised, blood still crusted on his skin, and you wonder what happened. You wonder how this could have happened. He doesn’t look like the same man who had once walked on a patrol with you, gun raised, vigilant in every movement. If they let Tommy live, if they let Ellie live, why did they kill Joel? Why did they stop him from coming home?

It’s not long until you realise that you have nobody to ask about Tess. Tommy had long ago told you everything he could remember, most of which was corrected by Joel. Is there anybody left in the world who knew her? Anybody left who would ask about her?

Will it just be you, until your death, who remembers Tess? Who remembers Joel? After you, Tommy and Ellie are gone, who will know him? Who will remember him? Who will put flowers on the grave in which they buried him?

You wonder how long it will be until people wonder about his grave, as you had with the others. How long it will be until he’s forgotten.

What’s going to happen to his pictures? The photographs of Joel and Sarah? Of him and Ellie? Of you and him? Who is going to understand each of these pictures? Who is going to know what was happening in each? How many memories are gone, now that Joel is dead?

“Kid, I…” Tommy trails off, eyebrows furrowed.

Joel is dead.

He’ll never finish the supply of coffee you gave to him. He’ll never complete the guitar he was making for you. He’ll never finish reading your favourite book. He’ll never receive the new mug you’d made for him. He’ll never do anything. Because Joel Miller is dead, and he’s buried thirty-three steps away.

How do you fix that?

How do you tell Joel that you’ll forgive him for ever leaving, that you’ll forgive him for everything, if he just comes back? If this time, he comes back to you. How will he know that things could go back to normal? That you’d— you would do anything. You would bring him all the coffee you found. You would watch every shitty movie he wanted. You would make him every damn mug he asked for. You would forget about him ever leaving at all. You would go back to normal. To before he left, but better.

All he had to do was come back again. That was it.

He just had to prove that it wasn’t him they buried. That the disfigured body they’d brought back to Jackson wasn’t him. That he wasn’t the one who’d had his head caved apart. Joel had proved things that had been far crazier. Surely, for you, he’d be able to prove this.

He would come through the door, all amused grins and warm jacket, and he would walk the thirty-three steps to his grave and tear the headstone with his name on from the ground. He would make fun of Tommy for ever believing it to be him, and he’d make a better gravestone, the name — which wasn’t Joel Miller — carved on neatly, more clearly.

Joel Miller was a survivor. He had to survive.

You aren’t quite sure what you’ll do if he doesn’t.

“I’m sorry.” Tommy says eventually, finally finding his words, and the look on his face reduces your denial to ash. You look at him, trying to find the similarities between him and the mess of the body that had truly been Joel. You find nothing. No resemblance between the body and Tommy. It makes it all the more difficult to believe that he’s dead. You’re not quite sure what Tommy is apologising for. Was it his fault? Did he goad that—that girl into cracking Joel’s skull? Into spilling his blood out of his veins? Into leaving him there like that? Like a body, not a human being?

Jesse says your name, gently, as if your skull would cave if he spoke it any louder. You realise that you’re standing here, in Joel’s house, in the very place that you had drank tea and coffee and whiskey with him, and you have no reason to be here. There’s no Joel to make you a terrible cup of tea, or to play his guitar while you carve at his workshop desk. There’s no Joel, and all of Tommy’s apologies won’t change that.

“I didn’t—” You cut yourself off, finding that you can’t speak any further, lest your throat go dry and your eyes get wet. And really, the words you had gotten out are enough. You didn’t.

You didn’t save him. You didn’t give him that god forsaken mug. You didn’t take him dinner. You didn’t tell him how much you appreciated him. You didn’t tell him that you loved him. You didn’t tell him that he was your dad when nobody else was. You didn’t forgive him.

“It’s okay.” Jesse tells you, and he believes it, obvious in his arms as they wrap firmly around you. Obvious in the way he holds your head, in the way he breathes. But it’s not. It’s not okay.

How could it be okay? You want to yell at him. You want to scream at him that Joel is dead, that it’ll never be okay. You want to do something, anything, but there’s nothing you can do. It wouldn’t matter. Joel would still be dead, and still, nothing would be okay. But you can’t do anything. You can’t vocalise a thing, except for what becomes a choked sob as it leaves your throat.

This is the first time that you cry.

And even though Jesse squeezes you tighter, as if he could possibly put your pieces back together, you fall apart. Once it starts, it doesn’t seem to stop.

There’s an acceptance here. Tears wash away any hint of denial, and you’re left with a reality you can’t help but accept. A reality where Joel Miller is dead, and you will never see him again. The arms around you will never be Joel’s. He’ll never teach you to play a new song on the guitar he was making you. He can’t hear the way you cry, even if you scream and yell and call out for him.

For once, you can’t feel him lingering in the back of your head. As if his absence has removed him from you. It feels like losing him all over again.

You didn’t see Tess’s dead body. Now, you’re glad. If there had been anything left of her to see, anyway. But you had seen bodies before. Mostly of Infected. Or of raiders and hunters who were often shot and killed, sometimes when you were the one shooting. Either way, you’re not used to remembering them as being so… still.

When you close your eyes, forcing the tears to fall, you see him. You see the flashes of skull and soggy brain tissue and smears of blood. And he’s still. You think that you’re so used to seeing Infected people that this just… wasn’t natural.

And to think of that body as Joel? It was even more unnatural.

“C’mon,” Jesse urged once more, voice a murmur in your ear as he tightened his arms around you. “Let’s get you home.” He said, moving to leave.

It was wrong. You didn’t want to leave. It was making you feel all wrong, like there was a constant chill sending shivers down your spine. How could he ask you to leave? How could he ask you to leave when Joel had never come home? Who was going to wash Joel’s mug — the one you had made, that he had stolen — of coffee that he’d left on the side? Who was going to make his bed? Who was going to clean the dirty dishes Joel inevitably would’ve left on his dining table?

Joel wasn’t coming home. So who would do it? How could you leave it like this?

“Kiddo,” Tommy sighed, stepping towards you and taking hold of your hands as Jesse dutifully stepped back, expression creased. He looked tired, more than anything. He looked his age. Tommy blinked, looking up towards the ceiling as if holding back tears, and squeezed your hands in his. “Please, don’t… Go home, okay? I’ll send Maria by. And we’ll—we’ll talk later. Alright?”

It was hard to face the fact that Tommy didn’t want you here. It was incomprehensible. How could you be anywhere else but here? How could he want you anywhere else but here?

How could he expect you to go home? To go back and see that stupid mug you’d almost finished? That Joel would never see? All because you had insisted upon it being a surprise. Insisted that he couldn’t see it until you were done. And now he would never see the mug that matched his own, a slightly better looking owl painted upon its side? The size of it just a smidge smaller than Joel’s own?

He had been complaining that you always had to use the shitty old mug with a football logo on the front. You wanted to surprise him with a mug which matched his own. A sign of your bond. A symbol of your trust, your forgiveness.

Things hadn’t been the same since he left you, all that time ago. Both of you had known it. It was almost tangible, every time you saw one another. But you were getting better. You were seeing him at least once every week, which was improvement from the sporadic visits that’d been occurring last year.

You were all he’d had, after he and Ellie had fallen out.

You, perhaps better than anybody, knew that isolation. You knew how cold it could get. You wonder whether or not he would have even been on that patrol, had you not declined his offer of dinner, in favour of working on the mug.

It was a bitter feeling that bloomed as you pulled away from Tommy. An ugly, rearing feeling that was biting at your throat, and the only thing that stopped you from falling to your knees was Jesse. You wanted to be angry at Joel. You wanted to be able to scream and cry at him, to scold him for leaving you once more, even after he had promised he would never do it again.

And you know it wasn’t his fault. You know that he wouldn’t have chosen this. You do know that. But who else can you blame? Tommy, who is grieving the same as you? Jesse, who had done nothing but support you since you had known him? Ellie, who had no choice but to helplessly witness his death? And there was the girl, of course, Abby, Tommy had said to Jesse. But she seemed… inconceivable. A figment of imagination. After all, Joel was the strongest person you knew. What could have taken that away? Who?

It’s not fair. None of it is fair.

Abby had taken so much from you, and you know from the state of his body, that she hadn’t done it quickly. You feel sick.

Jesse is rubbing your back as you kneel on the snow, the shock of the cold seeping through your trousers bringing you to reality. You hadn’t even noticed leaving Joel’s house.

In the corner of your eye, you can see all of the flowers that people left for Joel. It doesn’t help. These flowers, too, will be cold. They’ll be cold and they will die and then Joel’s porch and garden will be covered in flowers just as dead as he is.

And all of the notes will be left unread, because Joel Miller is dead, and he is not coming home.

∘₊✧───── ───── ───── ─────✧₊∘

if the door wasn’t shut taglist: @sleepylunarwolf @am-i-shit-or-am-i-the-shit @mandowhatnow @aphrcdites @doodlebob-mp3 @rrickgrrimes8 @nikt-wazny-y @fallenoutofrose @wrathofcats

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uninformedartist · 2 months

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So hey long time no see, just popping in to say that this video by Official_TVC is bullshit.

So summary + thoughts:

Video starts off with defintions on different types of stalking & they say Vivienne has experienced all this kind of stalking. Then goes on to say its 2 individuals doing this stalking and they we the viewer doesn't need to know them, Official_TVC has done a lot of research on them and we should should trust Official & their word without evidence because apparently they retweeted something on twitter & it was a tumblr post thats supposedly exposed Vivienne's siblings, personal things ect. All this is hearsay by you, it shouldn't make the average viewer trust your word. Yes I've seen things but that was from posts I've seen.

Aside -honestly Official should be questioning the anon asks we get on here, some of the asks contain some questionable info like how do you get that info. People get asks on here containing info, people don't go out & hunt all Vivienne's private life, we receive stuff thats how things come to light, OTHER PEOPLE SEND US STUFF.

All the background of the video is helluva boss/hazbin scenes coupled with music from respective shows. No evidence, not even heavily censored evidence to protect Vivienne, just Official_TVC talking & basically saying "trust me bro I did research, believe me". This is heinous accusations, individuals you are talking about & you give nothing. It could be lies for all people know, I don't even believe & I've seen the things you're referring to.

Continued, the stalkers, the 1st one is a "troll" according to Official_TVC & the second is supposedly so bad they were quote " has been 15 ft from vivziepop", no backing on that 15ft statement, Official_TVC just states this. All this stalking, entire pages made is because of a ship. Leaking show stuff (aside again, is GIVEN TO US VIA ANONYMOUS ASKS).

They carry on to say essentially all this hate talk on Viv on YT is cos she's popular, they got nothing of meaning to say on Viv cos they hate her so much they can't talk about her positively. They then mention a person has a never ending stream that just feeds misinformation other YouTubers & quote "on the precipice of wanting to strangle a woman (Viv) who made the crime of making demons gay". Wtf does that mean, who has this never ending stream of feeding misinformation to other YouTube, who & wtf are you talking about.

Anyway, goes on to compare spindlehorse workplace allegations to Amazon (yes ironic) & how Amazon treats its workers really bad... do I need to say more. Goes on to say everyone ragged on Viv because hazbin hotel is on Amazon, Amazon is bad & quote by Official_TVC is cos "everyone looks for an excuse to hate". Ok now I'm giving evidence on why people ragged on Viv for prime since you give jackshit.

Amazon/prime is currently being boycotted, its on the bds list why people were saying to pirate hazbin. Not some bullshit reason Official gave on it being mindless hate. Here is a video explaining why people are boycotting Amazon:

Vivienne also like this post from a fan, do I need to spell out how fucking disgusting this tweet is and the fact that she liked it.

Official carrys on to say stalker 1 did 3 things, doxxed Vivienne, & in their words if you go to said person's page Official states "im pretty sure they know where vivziepop lives". That is speculation, thats your opinion cos no evidence is provided or can be for that matter cos this is what YOU think. Dropping as Official says "nuggets" of info on Viv's siblings University, their work (this info was from a sibling's linked in page, public info). Can I say aside, I know her sibling's names. Why, not from stalking but from them leaving comments on Viv's speeddraws and Viv publicly naming them on her PUBLIC socials. And if you know someone's name you can easily find out what uni they went to, if you know my name & search me up you know what uni I go to its in the public on their linked in, social posts ect.

They go on to talk about how terrible leaking Viv's shows are, which idgaf. Amazon is a zionist corporation I'm pirating anything of Vivienne. Even invincible which I love, pirated it. Fans should too (since I see a lot of fans with free palastine in bio but still pay for prime). Anyway thats on them.

TW: talks of sexual harassment. So Official doesn't want to give more info on this individual which I respect & understand. However they say stalker 1 is sexually harrassing this person, sending content of a sexual nature all because the victim in this situation didn't agree with stalker 1 on the stalker's sentiments on hazbin hotel. I understand protecting the victim but my soul you're literally protecting the perpetrator. Expose them, you keep staying stalker 1 & 2 CALL THEM OUT. Protect the victims but expose the perpetrators.

They go on to stalker 2, who know stalker 1. Stalker 2 supposedly went to the hazbin premiere. They were there to keep an eye on vivziepop Official quotes. No evidence of this quote or info just them relaying it. Again this is all your words against what. Yeah that is concerning it really is but substantiate this evidence & quotes. This is the 1st time I'm hearing about this so I would like to know more on this & this heinous person. But you don't give any evidence. Official says " these people need to be stopped", how can they be stopped. You give no names, no info or evidence, its wishful thinking you saying this. I'm harping on and on on about Official gives no evidence but its so flipping frustrating hearing them spout all this WITH NOTHING to back their words.

TW again: Mentions of suicide and Shay a fan bullied by the fandom who then took their own life. Know a lot of people are still saddened by what led to Shay's passing why I mention this.

Official says stalker 1 is using the death of Shay to entice fruther harrassed on Vivienne. Its "apparently now", huskerdust fans went after Shay with heinous harassment & Shay subsequently ended their life, may they rest in peace. Official claims stalker 1 says Vivziepop is directly responsible for Shay's death. Shay's death was worded as "apparently" but stalker 1 using Shay's death to pin it on Vivziepop is stated as a fact. How disgusting can you be someone died & its apparently so to you but your word of mouth should be considered fact, fuck off. Official then goes on to say... sighs quote "we do not hold politicians accountable when they massacre people of other countries... bloodlines don't exist but we don't blame the politicians pushing the buttons".

Ok wtf, yes we do we blame Biden & other politicians & presidents for pushing the figurative & literally buttons on massacring Palestinians & other minorities, WE DO so wtf are you talking about. I honestly hate Official at this point because wtf are they saying. I don't blame vivziepop on Shay's death, even though when there was attempts to reach Vivienne on what was happening to Shay, maybe the channels they used like email didn't get the message across unfortunately. What I absolutely hate is when fans, like official now use Shay's death as a pawn in relation to people hating on Viv. No one that I've see & I'm saying it now I know who these stalker 1 & 2 are not even they were as disgusting as Official & fans to use Shay's death as to further hate on Vivienne. What Official_TVC is saying is bullshit.

And I disregard everything Official_TVC says after they hearted this comment, fuck you Official_TVC for hearting this vile comment.

I link a screenshot of the outreach to Vivienne via email on Shay aswell as the document on Shay's.

https://docs.google.com/document/d/e/2PACX-1vSfCoyn81fp83pycx5eyS4oxryRpFnVnHdEeyEyouigrKSWAZ5iEgTjt7Q63n68S_PcZK7_klB-9dH1/pub

In all this video is a load of nothing, bullshit actually & just vile on the parts of Shay. They ended of once again reiterating they won't give proof because people just want names & evidence for the tea/gossip & they want to protect Vivienne, shoo shoo. Again trust me bro, I did the research so trust me.

I want to reiterate I condone no actions if provided true on stalker 1 or 2. But from what I've seen of them is all out of context, lies spread by the fandom & things just made up down the grapevine. I don't do this for likes, clout or other bullshit the fandom says. Wouldn't be of me on my nature and the work that I do. Come with substantial evidence, then we discuss & make conclusions but for now

...

I hate Vivienne and this fandom, bye all.

#vivziepop critical #helluva boss critical #spindlehorse critical #my post #hazbin hotel critical #helluva boss criticism #helluva boss fandom critical

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dfortrafalgar · 26 days

Text

I'm Losing You... (But We're Filling the Cracks)

Having a family isn't always as easy as fairy tales make it seem. But sometimes, you just need a little bit of love... and a little bit of science.

Warnings: read chapter 1 for warnings

Interlude II

[Prev] [Next]

Law only gave you his phone number for study group purposes. He was strictly adamant that he didn’t want you texting him outside of that single reason.

It was also him that broke that rule. After only 5 days.

You woke up at around 9 in the morning on a Saturday, exhausted from a night out with your friends. You lazily rolled over in your bed, squinting your eyes at the sunlight that beamed through the closed blinds of you and Ikkaku’s dorm room. She had stayed at her boyfriend’s, so you had the entire space to yourself for the morning. You reached your hand over to the small table you kept by your bed, grabbing your phone and holding it close to your face. A few texts from your friends containing pictures from the night previous were in your messages, but one stood out to you.

Mean guy from study group Isn’t this the guy that was bothering you?

Mean guy from study group [1 Attachment]

You sat up in your bed, rubbing your eyes as you opened your conversation with Law. You had only texted three times exactly, first to state your name for his contact (if he even bothered to change your contact), followed by a text from him about the time for the next study group meeting, and lastly you saying ‘thanks’.

But now this.

He had attached a hyperlink that opened up to a news headline dated from the day previous.

North Blue University student arrested for cyberstalking and harassment, officials say.

You quickly tapped on the text window to reply to Law, your hands trembling.

Holy shit, yeah thats him alright

The incoming message bubble popped up and disappeared a few times while Law was typing on the other end. You weren’t expecting him to respond at all, but what he did follow up with made your breath catch in your throat.

Mean guy from study group Are you alright?

Were. You. Alright.

Was he asking about your wellbeing?

With your fingers trembling for a completely different reason, you tapped out a response.

Are you worried about me???

You threw your phone down onto your comforter, your hands going to cup your warm cheeks as you watched those three little bubbles appear, then disappear, then appear again, and disappear. He was surely struggling. You snatched your phone back up, intent on typing an apologetic message, thinking that you came across more accusatory than you intended, but his response popped up before you could type anything out.

Mean guy from study group I guess.

Mean guy from study group It’s scary being harassed, so I wanted to make sure you saw the news. Unless you were one of the ones who reported him.

He was worried about you. Law was worried about you.

You felt blood rush to your face. You were for sure overreacting. Some alcohol must still be in your system from how quickly your exhaustion-riddled mind was jumping to conclusions. He was only sending you this info because he was with you when you were confronted, that’s all. It couldn’t be anymore than that.

But a strange part of you, a part of you that you struggled to consider, almost wished it was something more.

You quickly typed out a response.

Thank you, I really appreiate iy

Ot**

It***

Appreciate****

Im sorry ;3;

Now you've done it. He hated spam messages. If this didn’t get your number blocked by him officially, then you’d resign yourself to never showing up to another study meeting. You plopped your phone down and swung your legs over the side of your mattress to hop down and retreat to the bathroom, but your screen lit up one more time.

Mean guy from study group Lol. It’s okay.

Lol.

LOL.

You sprinted to the bathroom, adrenaline coursing through your veins.

What was wrong with you?! He was an asshole. He was a massive douche who barely bothered to look at you, never talked to you outside of the study group (despite both of your schedules eerily aligning on multiple days of the week). He made a point to avoid you when you approached his friends on campus to say hello. He kept his head down, never looking at anyone.

You slapped your hands against your cheeks in the mirror, attempting to snap yourself out of whatever meet-cute daydream your subconscious was trapped in.

He was an asshole you studied with and he helped you out of a predicament once. It was nothing more than that.

—

Law didn’t text you for almost a week after he initially sent you that news article, followed up his message with uncharacteristic concern for your wellbeing, and then an ‘lol’. He was too embarrassed to even open his text messages, the mere glimpse of your contact name making him anxious.

Lunch girl

He couldn’t come up with anything better. You probably named him something stupid on your phone, too. Regardless, he was avoiding you like the plague when he could. Keeping his head down during study group, dodging eye contact like a rogue flyball at a baseball game, and keeping his lips shut when his friends were in conversation with you.

This was getting annoying.

The next Friday evening, a week after your last brief text message conversation, Law had holed himself up in his room for the evening, intent on swallowing himself into a medical documentary series he had started watching a few days earlier. All the lights in his single dorm room were off, a small fan was blowing cool air around his room, and his computer was on his bed with the brightness turned all the way up. He had just sat down on his mattress and popped one earbud in when a loud knock pounded on his door.

If he didn’t know any better, he’d think it was one of the residential assistants.

But that knock was too familiar to him. With a deep groan, he slid off of his bed and pulled out his earbud, trudging toward the door with one of his hands shoved deep in the pocket of his yellow hoodie. He pulled the door open, his eyes squinting from the bright light of the hallway.

“The hermit appears,” Shachi chided. “Come on, we’re taking you out.”

“I hope you mean to kill me,” Law muttered back. “Whatever you have planned, I’m not interested.”

“Well, we’re not giving you a choice. Come on,” Penguin replied, grabbing his friend’s arm and yanking him out of his dorm. Shachi closed the door for Law, making sure to slip inside and grab his friend’s key that was hung on the back of the door handle.

“What the fuck?!” Law hollered as he was dragged into the elevator. Penguin punched the button to the ground floor, and the three began their slow descent.

“We’re going to Ikkaku’s, we’re gonna have a movie night,” Shachi piped up with an excited lilt in his voice.

Law swallowed sharply. Ikkaku’s dorm was also your dorm.

“No. Let me go,” he demanded, trying to push himself away from Penguin, who’s hand was still firmly wrapped around Law’s wrist.

Penguin made a tsk sound in his mouth. “No-can-do, buck-a-roo,” he sang. “Besides, it’s getting annoying watching you beat around the bush when it comes to New Girl. Ikkaku told me she’s been getting sad that you’ve been avoiding her.”

“What does that have to do with anything?” Law snapped, his voice dripping with venom. “I don’t like her.”

“Bullshit,” Shachi snapped. “You’re smitten for her and you know it.”

Law bit the inside of his lip as the elevator door slid open and his friends dragged him into the lobby of their building, pulling him into the early autumn air.

“Besides, she’s cute. And somehow she’s been able to put up with your dick energy without getting upset about it. Well, until now, obviously,” Penguin added.

“I don’t understand why it’s either of your business,” Law barked, tripping over his feet as he was dragged along.

Your dorm building, as well as Law’s, was part of a quadruple group of five-story buildings appropriately named ‘The Quad.’ Your’s was directly across from Law’s, past a fairly large center green with a few benches and a small stone statue of a pig. No one really knew why the pig was there, and no one really questioned it.

The pig’s marbled eyes reflected Law’s nervous energy in the dark. The raven-haired man gulped as he was dragged through the doors of your building, into the lobby, and subsequently up the elevator.

“Can you let go of my wrist now?” he asked, wiggling his fingers to make sure he still had feeling in them. Penguin’s grip might as well have been a handcuff.

“No, ‘cus you’re just gonna run away,” Penguin responded, squeezing his friend’s wrist to punctuate his point.

“I hate you two,” he groaned.

“Love you too, buddy,” Shachi replied with a shit-eating grin.

The elevator door opened on the third floor and the three men stepped out, trudging down the hallway closer toward you and Ikkaku’s dorm. Your room was located near the end of the hallway. The outside of it was decorated with paper flowers and a whiteboard that had both of your names on it. In the corner, a tiny penis was drawn with the dry erase marker that was kept clipped to the top of the board.

Shachi knocked three times in quick succession. The frantic sound of footsteps bounced from inside of the room. Large brown eyes and frizzy, curly brown hair was behind the door when it swung open.

“You got him!” Ikkaku called, a bright smile on her face.

“We needed to trap him like a stray cat,” Penguin said back, his voice almost prideful, as if kidnapping his friend from a nice, peaceful, solitary movie night was an affable feat.

“Come in, come in, we got some drinks,” she said, opening her door wider and beckoning the three inside. She planted a kiss on Penguin’s cheek when he passed by, making Shachi groan.

Your room was substantially larger than Law’s, on account of there being two of you, and each side was decorated with your respective tastes. Ikkaku’s bed was lifted, with a tidy desk area underneath and plush blankets covering her mattress. Her side of the wall was decorated with flowers and posters from her favorite musicians, and some polaroid photos attached to string lights hanging near the ceiling. Your side was similar, with a large amount of fluffy pillows and blankets, but the poster that was hanging above the head of your bed frame was what caught his eye first.

It was a framed poster of ‘Sora: Warrior of the Sea’. The bottom of it was signed with a few names in metallic alcohol markers. You were sitting on your bed with your legs crossed, holding a pillow to your chest. When Law finally tore his eyes away from the poster, they landed on you staring back at him. You must have known he was ogling your mounted possession, as you simply tossed him a shy, knowing smile.

“So, what are we watching?” Penguin asked, finally releasing Law’s grip to clamor onto Ikkaku’s bed.

Ikkaku grinned. “I found this cool murder mystery documentary. I think it’s based on a true story, or something. Perfect for a Friday night.”

Your shoulders stiffened. “Are you sure…? Ika, you know I don’t like stuff like that…”

Law’s chest clenched at the sound of your unsure voice. He thought about how nervous you became when he first encountered you during lunch that day, how you shied away from the kid confronting you as if you hoped the wall would swallow you whole. You looked so small, then. He remained standing in the center of your room, feeling too awkward to take a seat anywhere. He finally decided to simply sit on the floor against the back wall, facing the small television that was connected to Ikkaku’s laptop.

“You’ll be fine,” Ikkaku chided. “You’re with us, nothing’s gonna happen to you.”

He didn’t miss the way your throat bobbed slightly as you swallowed a thick glob of spit.

With a few taps against the trackpad of Ikkaku’s laptop, the movie started. She turned off her string lights with her phone, plunging the room into darkness, with the only light being from the television screen. Some opening credits flashed on the screen as the documentary started. Some over-dramatic narration about a serial killer who was found guilty for an estimated 20 or so murders of college-aged women.

How topical.

Some comments were passed around between Shachi, Penguin, and Ikkaku, some dry jokes here and there related to the crimes committed by this degenerate man.

Everything was going smoothly, until the documentary made a bold choice to act out the scene of an assault. Suddenly, you bolted upright from your bed, landing on your feet, bolting to your door in the dark based on muscle memory. Law watched as your figure eclipsed the television screen, the door to your room opening and closing quickly cutting off the light from the hallway.

“What was that about?” Shachi asked, confusion and slight annoyance in his voice.

“She can’t stand stuff like this, I don’t get it. It’s all over dramatic, anyway,” Ikkaku replied.

Law bit the inside of his cheek. His body began moving on its own, pushing him to his feet and out the door, tripping over a pair of shoes in the dark as he fumbled to leave the room. The bright light from the hallway infiltrated his eyes and made them water slightly, but he took long strides down the hallway to the stairwell to ascend to the first floor. He wasn’t telling himself to look for you, but at the same time, that’s exactly what he was doing.

The stairs dumped him outside where a fire escape door was attached to the side of the building. The sun had officially set now, plunging the entire campus into darkness save for the walkway lamps that lit the sidewalk. He frantically looked left, right, then left again, before rounding the back of the building. You must have been somewhere out here. He had a feeling.

To his mild surprise, you were indeed behind the building, sitting on a concrete ledge with your arms around your head. The only light above you was a flood light that barely cast enough of an image over the building’s exterior, but it was enough to make out your posture. You had essentially folded yourself in half, your chest pressed against your knees as your feet dangled a few inches above the ground. Even in the darkness, Law could see you trembling. His heart skipped a beat as he approached you faster than he would have liked. He felt like he was out of his body.

“H-Hey…” he uttered, afraid his words were too quiet.

Your head shot up, your eyes widened in surprise. Tears were streaming down your swollen cheeks, your chin quivering as you held in your hiccups and sobs.

“What do you want,” you uttered, your eyebrows furrowing.

Law couldn’t blame you for your venomous tone, after all the disinterest he had given you over the past week. You probably thought he wanted you dead, if anything.

“I just… wanted to make sure you were okay,” he muttered back, his low voice barely above a whisper.

You wiped your eyes against the sleeve of your own sweatshirt. “Why do you care? Don’t you hate me, or something?”

“I don’t hate you,” he replied. It wasn’t a lie. Maybe when he first met you he wanted it to be, but after getting thrice-a-week doses of your smile when you talked to his friends, he was finding it harder and harder to hate you. If anything, he struggled to admit that he had actually grown quite fond of you. The thought still made a shiver run up his spine. It was so foreign, so unlike him. The kid who had grown to hate the thought of love, having lost everything to its toxic clutches.

You were staring at him with red, puffy eyes. You wanted to ask him why he had been so off putting toward you after your brief text conversation with him the week prior. You wanted to yell at him for being a dickhead toward you, for not having the balls to simply tell you that he didn’t want you around instead of acting like you didn’t exist. But your lips stayed closed, trembling as you held in your tears.

A deep-rooted part of you wanted him to sit next to you.

Law’s feet started moving on their own again, a mere subconscious in a vessel of flesh. He sat on the concrete beside you.

After a few painfully awkward moments, he finally opened his mouth to speak. “I’m kind of a dick.”

You snorted, dry and sarcastic. “I couldn’t tell.”

Law brought one of his knees to his chest, his heel resting against the concrete retaining wall. “I’m not good with words, either.”

This time, you simply stayed silent. The only noises coming from you were weak sniffles as your tears died down, your mind finding peace with his presence. A peace you would have never expected. Through the low light from the flood lamp above your heads, your eyes caught another look at the tattoos on his hands. DEATH.

Neither of you moved when your head knocked against his shoulder, your upper body leaning to the side. You could feel his chest still as he held his breath, eyes surly blown wide with the suddenness of your movement.

“I don’t know what I’m doing,” you muttered. “I don’t know why I’m leaning on you.”

“Are you some kind of zombie?” he replied, keeping his voice low. A very small smirk creeped onto his lips, but he forced it down as soon as he felt his muscles twitch.

“Probably,” you responded, serious as you could be. “I don’t like assault.”

Law’s mind flashed back to the scene that had made you get up and leave. Not many people did like assault, but he had a keen feeling your words were a bit deeper than that.

Without thinking, he blurted, “What do you like?”

You kept your skull against his bony shoulder. He had a certain scent to him, a boyish musk mixed with the scent of cedar and something citrus-y. It was… comforting. With a small grin, you replied, “Sora.”

Law’s heart skipped a beat.

You finally picked your head up. “I saw you staring at my poster. I got it a few years ago at a con… the voice actors from the anime were in the dealer’s room doing a signing event.”

“Have you read the latest chapters of the comic?” he asked, finally turning his attention toward you. Your eyes were still swollen from crying, but you had a small smile on your face, very similar to the one you gave him during your lunchroom encounter. His chest fluttered again. He was probably dying of acute heart failure. Perhaps an aortic aneurysm.

“I have, I pirate it online,” you replied. “Yo ho ho.”

Your voice was dry, but the sound of your lazy imitation of a pirate laugh made him snort. He couldn’t help it. His body was acting on its own. He shouldn’t be laughing with you, he shouldn’t have let you lean your head on his shoulder. He needed to keep you at arm’s length, or even further away. But something about you kept drawing him in. Something about you, the sound of your voice, the faint smell of lavender on your skin, the way your eyes sparkled on cloudless days, the softness of your lips when they curled into a smile while you laughed.

Fuck.

“Law…?” you questioned, his golden eyes staring off into space.

He snapped back to attention, tearing his eyes away from you and staring at the ground below his feet. “Sorry.”

Your lips fell. “It’s alright.”

A few brief moments of silence passed through you before he suddenly blurted, “I wouldn’t be a good man for you.”

FUCK.

You turned your head to face him. “What?”

“Nothing,” he stated bluntly. “I spoke without thinking.”

You had heard him loud and clear, though. Your heart hammered in your chest, hoping, begging for him to repeat those words. You were shocked with how badly you wanted to prove him wrong.

“I don’t think that’s true,” you whispered. “I think you could be a really good man for me.”

Law sucked in a breath, his eyes widening. He slowly picked his head up, his weary golden eyes meeting your own. You were gazing at him, a mixture of apprehension and understanding painting your features. You seemed just as damaged as he was.

“Do you…” he mumbled, trying to collect his racing thoughts. “Do you want to go back to my place and watch Sora?”

Your lips broke out into a nervous grin. “I’d love to.”

#x reader #reader insert #fem reader #law x reader #one piece x reader #trafalgar law x reader #op x reader #trafalgar d water law x reader #trafalgar d water law #trafalgar law #i'm losing you

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cyberrose2001 · 1 year

Note

hi hope you're well, a kinda long text coming...

with all the requests FILLED (literally) with joy with optimus, I shall be the one to break it HAHAHA so... can you do like a scenario where the reader and optimus are happy living their lives with the sparklings (imagine triplets!!!) everything is perfect but then........

optimus wakes up from his dream and realizes it all, the perfect family is not real, the reader is not alive, not being able to live with it, he suffers everyday bc of those dreams, he traps himself in this "reality" of his dreams (like that episode fr tfp on Megatron's mind) and isolate himself

hope that's not to sad >:) and if you're comfortable writing this, if not sorry.

Thank you author ❤️❤️❤️

TFP Optimus x human!fem!reader

you're very welcome anon!! this took waaaay too many drafts HAHA but im quite happy with it now, this is such a sad concept and now i just wanna give op a hug :(

I should also mention that I left the details of the sparklings biology unspecified. Whether you prefer them to be cybertronian, human or half-and-half is up to you! <3

Warnings: Angst, SFW

Word count: 1436

“Optimus, honey?” The wonderful voice of his lover called out to him. Closing the front door behind him, Optimus breathes a sigh of relief. Her soft voice calling out his name plays on repeat in his processor. “Is that you? Could you come and help me for a second?”

He had no idea how he got so lucky, to start a family with who he considers the most beautiful specimen in the known universe. Together, they both created three sparklings, all triplets and it was further proof that either Primus or another deity of life had seen the good that Optimus had done and blessed him with both her and sparklings. The day he found out that she was pregnant with them was the first time in his life that he experienced pure joy, the second time was when she gave birth to his little ones and officially became a sire.

With a soft smile, Optimus follows her voice to the playroom of the quaint house he calls home. He is thankful that mass displacement technology exists, allowing him to comfortably live in the house with his family. He observes from the doorway as his sparklings play with stuffed toys and little building blocks, making an absolute mess of the room. He clears his throat and leans against the doorway with folded servos, “I hope you young ones are going to help your mother with cleaning up.”

Three small heads perk up at the voice of their sire, all of them dropping their toys and bouncing over to him. He kneels down and gives his two sons a strong hug, pecking them both on the heads with kisses.

“Daddy!” The last born of the three calls out to him. Optimus chuckles softly as he opens his arms for her, embracing her close to his chassis. Now Optimus is not the one to pick favourites with his sparklings and loves them all equally, but his only daughter was the first one to hug him whenever he came home. She was also the one who took the most interest in his stories of when he was the great leader of the Autobots, constantly begging for her sire to re-tell them as a bedtime story, with the more graphic details left out. It makes the inner archivist within Optimus swell with pride that at least one of his sparklings has taken a liking to the history of his home planet.

“Hello, my sweetspark.” Optimus nuzzles his faceplate to her nose, enjoying the little giggles that erupted from her. He picks her up and places her on his hip, a servo supporting her under her bottom, “Did you have fun today?”

“Yeah! Look what I do!” His toddler babbles as she points to a large tower made out of the small plastic blocks. It wasn’t very impressive by Cybertronian standards of what sparklings can do, but it doesn’t matter to Optimus, he will gush over anything that his kids build or draw in order to expand their creativity.

“Did you build that?” Optimus smiles at her, “How clever of you, honey.”

She nods eagerly, a big grin on her face, “Mommy helped!”

“Did she?” He looks towards his wife who was kneeled on the floor, stomach swollen with the life of another sparkling. She was sorting out the seemingly endless pile of toys that was thrown about on the floor. Optimus can’t help but admire his wifes devotion to their children, playing with them even when heavily pregnant. The incredible and important job of being a mother is something that Optimus has learned and respected during his time on Earth, especially after witnessing it firsthand.

“I did, now could you help me get up off the floor?” She chuckles, a hand rubbing her pregnant stomach.

Optimus carefully steps over the toys to walk over to her. He offers his servo and she graciously took it, pulling her up off the floor. She huffs a little bit and tries to catch her breath, bent knees trying to brace the weight of her unborn child.

“Thank you, love.” She sighs, lightly tracing the servo that still held onto her hand, “You would think I’d learn from my previous pregnancy to not get on the floor.”

Optimus laughs softly, readjusting his daughter on his hip, “It is probably not the wisest decision.”

She laughs, reminiscing the memory of her stuck on the floor while she was pregnant with the triplets, and he can feel himself falling in love with her all over again. She is absolutely glowing, and Optimus can’t help but bask in her natural beauty. Leaning forward, he presses a chaste kiss to her lips, smiling through it as he hears their sparklings protest as most children do when they see their parent’s smooch, “Yucky, Daddy!”

He pulls away from the kiss and brushes a servo across the tight skin of her stomach, feeling the little kicks of their soon-to-be newborn. Optimus doesn’t want to jinx anything yet, but he prays to Primus that it is another little girl.

She smiles and places her own hand on top of his, sharing the moment together. But Optimus does not notice that her smile faltered for a second.

“Optimus, you know that this can’t last forever.” His wife whispers quietly so that the sparkling he held can’t hear.

Optimus perks his helm up to look at her, confusion plastered on his face, his gentle caresses on her stomach halting for a moment, “What cannot last forever?”

She reaches a soft hand out to caress his faceplates, a small tear threatening to spill down her flushed cheeks. Despite being incredibly confused at his wife’s turn of behaviour, Optimus felt a need to comfort her and returns the gesture to wipe her own tears away.

“It’s not healthy for you… you need to wake up.”

Taking a step back, digits leave her face as he nearly trips on the carpet. The words that just left your lips made his spark sink to the floor. There was no way that Optimus was dreaming, he refused to believe, not when everything that has happened within the last few months felt so real and genuine. As quick as he felt his spark sink, the cosy home that surrounded his family began to crumble and disappear around him, falling into an endless cold void. The weight of his daughter on his hip was no longer there. The softness of his wife’s hand had disappeared. Optimus was left with nothing but the darkness of his empty mind. And at that point, Optimus felt his own optics lubricate and fall down into the void, the last echoes of his wife reaching his audial receptors.

“Optimus…”

“Optimus.”

“Optimus!”

Optics snap open, scanning the ceiling above him. In an instant, he sits up right on the berth below and vents heavily. He looks around carefully at his environment and realises that he is in his berthroom on the Autobot base, it feels lifeless.

“Hey, hey, take it easy.” A gentle yet firm voice reassures and pushes him back onto the berth, “I heard a distress signal from your internal instruments, is everything alright?”

Optimus recognises Ratchet, but the old bots words are drowned out by his processor running on overdrive. His wife, his sparklings, and his unborn little one are no-where to be found. Frantic optics flicker around every inch of the emptiness of his berthroom, hoping and wishing that they would be waiting just outside the room or hiding somewhere, playing that fun earth game called hide-and-seek that he enjoyed playing with his sparklings.

Ratchet notices the distant look in his friend’s optics and places a servo on his shoulder to try and ground him to the present, “Optimus, you’re fine, it seems as if you have just experienced a nightmare.”

His grip on the berth was hard. That was no nightmare. That was his life, a life that has now been taken away from him as a cruel punishment. All Optimus had ever wanted was right there in his grasp. He didn’t care about his friends, and he didn’t care about the Autobot cause anymore.

He just wants his family back.

“It was not.” Optimus whispers out, vocaliser stuttering. He knew Ratchet wouldn’t understand the monumental loss that he had just suffered, but Optimus could not deal with his old friend at this point in time. Just as Ratchet was about to question him, Optimus lets out a pained sob.

“Please…” He held his helm in his servos as lubricant began leaking from his optics once again, “Just leave me be.”

#transformers #tfp #tfp x reader #tfp optimus x reader #angst #sfw #x reader

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pr0wlerpunk · 11 months

Text

P.s- I love you

Person: 1610!Miles morales

Afab!reader

Requested:|Yes|No|

@alisblackgf : can I get earth-1610!miles x Reader where they’re childhood best friends and are just like. In love with each other. And then confess. IDK IM A SUCKER FOR FLUFF AND CONFESSIONS

Warnings: angst(?), slight cussing, both miles and reader being Extremely oblivious to each other’s feelings, miles and reader are both 16 bc I feel like it’s more realistic for 16 year olds to have this sort of issues(idk man), the ending is rushed ngl

Translations; Amor: love, Mi Vida: My Life, Mi Corazón: my heart

Tags: @alisblackgf

Ever since you could remember you knew miles..

See growing up your mother was a hairstylist, so that meant she knew any and everyone.

From the browns to the jakobs…

But there was always one name that stood out most

Morales…

Your mother was friends with Rio and your father with Jefferson-which automatically made you friends with their son, miles.

Miles was a sweet boy, always doing right and helping out his family

But

Boy was he shy

When you all first met he never walked away from his mom’s side, which you thought was weird since you were only 5

But as time grew miles warmed up to you, and you realized just how amazing he was

And I mean so amazing that all you wanted to do was be around him

So your mom made plans and before you know it, you lived a couple blocks down from the Morales’s

Every birthday was spent at each other’s houses

Every Christmas

Every thanksgiving

Any and everything was done together..

You and miles grew up close together, so close that even some would say it was the universe proving how you both were meant to be

He was your corazón

And you

His vida…

🕷️

12 years later

You had officially made it to the same school as miles, and would not leave him alone.(not that he minded, you were his girl after all..even if he hadn’t said it yet)

He was your boy and you made sure everyone knew that…

Especially that little Gwen Stacy chick.

When miles first told you about her you thought she was alright, she seemed smart, and she had an interest in the drums

He told you how they met and how he wouldn’t clarify it as them being friends

But still, the way he talked about her made it seem different..

You weren’t the jealous type, but something about her was off…

And then next thing you knew, he was always leaving with her

“Sorry [___], Me and Gwen have some plans after school, I’ll make it up to you amor, I promise”

At first you thought it was ok, miles was making more friends and you were happy for him…

But every time you would ask him to hang or even walk home together he would always say he had plans with Gwen…

“I promised Gwen I’d help her with something today, I’ll make it up to you amor, I promise”

It was all bout her

“Ah [___], I forgot me and Gwen have to do something right now, I’ll make it up to you amor, I promise”

Normally you wouldn’t care if he flaked but you had something for him…

A letter.

You had spent hours on perfecting it

Now it was just about giving it to him…

But maybe you’d wait a little.

🕷️

And so that’s what you did,

You waited..

Hours had became days…

days turned into nights….

And nights went into weeks.

And then you realized

Nothing was going to change unless you made the change and reached out

And so the very next day, you did…

🕷️

Rio, miles mom let you in after school telling you how happy she was to see you and how miles was In his room

You thanked her and made your way to his, the path now unfamiliar since the last time you had been there

Which was-if you could remember-a week or two

As you neared his door you could hear hushed voices.

You leaned in slowly, pressing your ear to the door

“Im telling you Gwen, she’s amazing”

A confused look spread onto you face as you continued to listen

“Then why can’t you confess to her miles?”

Confess…confess to who?

“I don’t know, I mean we’ve been best friends for forever…I don’t wanna ruin things…”

W-was he talking about you?

“If shes a True Friend like you say she is, then she’ll hear you out-”

And suddenly it went quiet

“I got to go miles, Peter needs me back at his”

Then the window was shut

And that’s when you decided you would enter…

“Miles we need to tal-” You froze, there miles was, standing on his ceiling in what looked like a spiderman suit

“[___] I can explain!”

You watched in horror as your best friend jumped from his ceiling to his floor in a matter of seconds

“WHATS THERE TO EXPLAIN MILES??” You were livid, how could he keep something like this from you?

“Uhm im Spiderman….”

You stared at him a furious expression plastered on your face

“WELL I KNOW THAT NOW…”

Miles visibly cringed hearing you yell at him

“[___] Please calm down!, my moms gonna think something’s up!”

You glared at him

And then you put two and two together

“Miles…”

He looked at you, a soft smile forming onto his face

“Yea?”

“Gwen knows…doesn’t she?”

You already knew the answer, but you wanted to hear it come from his mouth

“She was the first person to know”

And you felt your heart shatter even more..

“Alright..yea, no that’s-it’s fine” You hurriedly turned to leave as tears threatened to spill down your face

“[___] don’t be like that, please amor” You felt his hand grab your wrist, and for the first time in weeks…you felt his skin…

And god everything was telling you to turn around and forgive him..

“D-don’t call me that miles”

But you didn’t… instead you ripped your wrist away from his grasp as you glared at him

Miles heart broke seeing your cold gaze…

And then something caught his eye.

“[___] w-whats that?”

You froze, he was never meant to see the envelope..especially not after what just happened

“It’s nothing”

You hurriedly tried to hide it, but you were too late

“Mi Vida, please!” He desperately pleaded

And you froze, the nickname you had came to love was now being used against you to get you to respond… and so you did

“Fine, you wanna know what it is so bad?!”

He anxiously nodded his head

“It’s a dumb letter..” You looked anywhere but him, not trying to see his face after what you where about to say

“I’ve been trying to confess to you for years miles…” your voice soft as you thought about all the times you wanted to tell him you loved him

“But you never got the hint…s-so I thought I’d write you a letter”

You finally held up the red and black envelope.

you watched as he took it from your hands, his gaze fixated on the little hearts and sunflowers that decorated the front

“Amor, I’m sorry, if I had known I would’ve made time for you I promise!”

You scoffed

“Miles cut the bull!”

He stared at you confused

“You would have Never, made time for me, and…I know that know”

He shook his head no, his mouth opening to speak…

But no words came out

And so you nodded, wiping the tears from your eyes before looking at him

Nothing was said as you turned to leave…

And nothing was said as you did

Miles laid awake that night.

he couldn’t sleep, not after what you told him all those hours ago

Earlier…

Rio had saw how you left, tears streaming down your face as broken sobs left your mouth

She immediately went to go check on miles and what she saw broke her heart even more…

Miles was on the floor, pictures of you and him scattered around him as he himself let out broken sobs

Present

Miles couldn’t believe what you had told him

You had liked him for years…and he was so dense that he couldn’t realize it

And now it was too late…

He had lost you

God, if only he had payed more attention to you then maybe he would of gotten the letter sooner

Wait…

The letter..

THE LETTER!

Miles was quick to jump up and find the envelope

He looked around his already messy room until the red and plack cover caught his eye

Quickly he picked it up and opened it

His eyes welded up with tears as he read what you had wanted to tell him for years…

——————————————————

To mi corazón,

As I’m writing this I realize how corny it is.

I mean this isn’t a movie, but I just thought that making this would help me get of few things off my chest…

So here I go

Miles..

You don’t know how much you mean to me, when we first met I thought you were this shy nerdy little boy, But as we matured I came to realize that you were much much more.

You’re caring, and compassionate,

You’re not afraid to help someone in need,

You’re smart and funny,

You’re everything anyone could ever want…

So as I sit here writing this, I think…

I think about how we met.

I think about how we begged our families to live next to each other.

I think about our movie nights.

I think about our first day in elementary together.

I think about how our moms used to match us up in the same outfits.

I think about our first day of Highschool.

I think about how everyone would tell us we were meant for each other.

And I think about how the universe has kept us together…

Miles I was the luckiest girl in the world to meet you.

No matter what…

I won’t ever be mad at you.

I won’t ever not be there for you.

I won’t ever not appreciate you.

And I won’t ever doubt you.

Miles morales you’re the most perfect guy a girl could meet.

All always be your Vida and you, my Corazón

-[___]

Oh! And

P.s -

I love you

——————————————————

“Shit” he cursed whipping the fallen tears from his cheeks

He looked around his room until he spots his suit, he quickly grabbed it slipping the material on as he rushed to the window

Miles needed to talk to you…

🕷️

There you lay, tears streaming down your face as your music blasted through your room.

Your parents had night jobs, so that meant that they would sleep all day and go to work at night, which left little to no time for you…

But you didn’t mind it, you liked being by yourself

You could draw, watch tv, and blast music without any consequences…

Even if someone called the cops you wouldn’t be in trouble

(9 x out of 10 it was mr. Jefferson that came and he would just let you off with a warning)

You were zoned out thinking about everything that happened today,

You found out miles was Spider-Man

You confessed to him

And then you left.

When you had arrived home you went straight to the shower,

After your shower you put your playlist on shuffle and laid in bed

Which is what your still doing

And then..

There was a tap on your window

And another

And then it stopped.

You let out a breath of relief

And then you heard it..

“Amor..”

“Amor, Are You awake?”

Peering over you pillow you came face to face with Spider-Man or now as you know

Miles…

“What’re you doing here miles..or should I say spiderman?”

He let out a soft groan at your tone of voice

“Cmon [___] don’t be like that”

You rolled over, turning away from him

“I read the letter…”

You froze but quickly regained your composure

“Oh goody”

Miles huffed, jumping on your ceiling and crawling over back to face you

“Did you mean it, everything you said…?”

You were quite for a moment, until you opened your eyes to finally face him

“….yea…”

He smiled and it instantly warmed your heart

“Do you forgive me?”

You let out a soft laugh as a smile made its way to your face

“….yea…”

You both went quite just staring at each other

“[___]”

“Yes miles”

“Can we cuddle?”

You let out a snort but quickly shook your head yes

“…..yes miles..”

He crawled(literally)into your bed wrapping his arms around your waist, holding you flush to his body

“Oh and Ps”

He mumbled into your neck

“I love You too”

BONUS

“You’re so corny Miles”

You let out a laugh as he quickly spoke up

“You started it!”

“….Nuh uh”

“[___]!!”

“BOTH OF YOU GO TO SLEEP”

You and miles stared at each other with shocked expressions

You looked up catching Gwen in her spider suit

“GWEN???”

“WAIT, GWEN??”

She waved before leaving

#rae speaks #miles morales x reader #miles morales #gwen stacy #zac zlander #zac abandoned rae #zac the liar

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