kakashiandjuvia

[kakashiandjuvia]

could you do the "my current boyfriend" tiktok trend with reactions from the pack?

This Is My Current Boyfriend — Wolf Pack Reacts

Pairing: Twilight Wolf Pack x Reader (Established Relationship)

Summary: You film your wolf boyfriend mid-moment and proudly say, “This is my current boyfriend 😍” out loud while recording. Each boy reacts with a mix of shock, pride, and possessiveness.

Warning: Fluff, light language, spicy looks, very boyfriend behavior

⸻

Sam Uley

You catch him buttoning his shirt before heading to a meeting, all serious alpha energy. You point the camera at him and say:

“This is my current boyfriend 😍”

His reaction:

Glances at the phone. Then at you.

“Current, huh?”

Walks over, takes the phone gently out of your hand, and sets it down.

“Let me make one thing clear.”

Leans in, lips brushing your ear—

“You’re stuck with me, forever. Not just current.”

Yeah, you’re not breathing after that.

⸻

Paul Lahote

He’s shirtless, eating a popsicle on the porch when you record him and say:

“This is my current boyfriend 😍”

His reaction:

Immediately turns to the camera and smirks like a devil.

“Damn right. Current and permanent.”

Points to himself, then to you.

“Girlfriend of the century right there. Back off, everyone.”

Then he makes you say it again so he can “hear it twice.”

⸻

Embry Call

He’s watering your plants, humming to himself. You zoom in and say:

“This is my current boyfriend 😍”

His reaction:

Trips over the hose.

“Wait—me? You’re filming me?”

Turns red and tries to cover his face with the watering can.

“You’re seriously posting that? I look like a dork!”

But he watches it 50 times later with the softest smile.

⸻

Quil Ateara

He’s dancing in the living room to some throwback song, socks sliding on the floor. You pan the camera to him and say:

“This is my current boyfriend 😍”

His reaction:

Immediately poses like a model.

“This? This is what peak boyfriend looks like.”

Starts blowing kisses to the camera.

“Tag me. Put #boyfriendgoals.”

You’re laughing so hard you almost drop the phone.

⸻

Jared Cameron

You’re lying in bed and he’s mid-snuggle, hair messy, wrapped around you like a blanket. You whisper into your phone:

“This is my current boyfriend 😍”

His reaction:

Sleepily blinks and mumbles,

“That’s me? Aww.”

Then he kisses your cheek, hugs you tighter, and mutters—

“Forever boyfriend. Change the caption.”

Falls back asleep smiling.

⸻

Seth Clearwater

He’s playing with a puppy (or a kid), laughing and being the definition of sunshine. You point your camera at him and say:

“This is my current boyfriend 😍”

His reaction:

Stops mid-laugh, blushes instantly.

“You’re filming me?! Wait… you actually said that?”

His whole face lights up like you proposed to him.

“You really think that? You’re the best girlfriend ever.”

Tackles you in a hug.

⸻

Leah Clearwater

She’s stretching before a run, ponytail swinging. You record her and say:

“This is my current girlfriend 😍”

Her reaction:

Immediately raises a brow.

“Current? Girl, don’t play with me.”

Smirks and walks toward the camera.

“Say it again. Slower.”

Kisses you like she owns you and walks off like a goddess.

⸻

🐾 Bonus: The Aftermath (Group Text Style)

Once the videos go up, the group chat explodes:

• Paul: “Can’t believe I’m this hot on camera. Thanks for the reminder.”

• Embry: “WHY DID YOU POST ME WATERING THE PLANTS 😩”

• Jared: “She called me boyfriend while snuggling. I win.”

• Seth: “She called me hers 😭😭😭”

• Leah: “She better call me hers. I’ll take her phone if she doesn’t.”

• Sam: Just sends a video of himself looking smug with the caption “hers. always.”

Disclaimer:

I do now own Twilight or any of its characters. All rights belong to Stephenie Meyer. This is a work of fanfiction written for entertainment purposes only. No copyright infringement is intended.

[kakashiandjuvia]

Could we get a Leah x reader where r likes to fish or hunt, and happens to see Leah shift. She obviously freaks out cause holy shit but Leah is way too preoccupied with the fact she just imprinted.

OmG SO CUTE I SEE READER WEARING THIS: (anything will work)

Fishing without Harry feels weird today. It's been a few months without him, and now fishing and hunting feel like tributes to him.

You met him after your cousin started working with Charlie. You got to know Charlie, which got you to meet Billy and Harry Clearwater. You knew he had kids, but you've never met them. Although you knew of them and that Leah was close to your age.

You sigh and throw the fishing line into the water. Your mind begins to play out your childhood like a movie. Back home where you grew up, your dad took you hunting and fishing all of the time. You've always been so outdoorsy because of how you grew up. You wouldn't change a thing.

You hear someone stepping on rocks behind you. You turn around and see a woman with short hair and shorts on. Her shoes are gone. You look up into her eyes and see how beautifully brown they are. It felt as though she engulfed you into her spirit. You felt a pulling toward her. But, you push this weird feeling to the back of your mind which leaves a burning sensation in your chest.

"Hey. Are you trying to fish here?" You ask, smiling.

She just blinks her eyes and looks away. She starts breathing heavily, which confuses and worries you.

"Hello?" You ask.

In a blink of an eye, she changes into a wolf, right in front of you. You gasped at the sight, dropping your fishing pole. Your eyes widen, and your hands cover your mouth. The wolf runs off before anything else could happen.

----

You're sitting in your car, breathing heavy, still at a loss of what happened. You look up to look at the sherif department where you know Charlie is. Should you go in and tell him? You don't want to seem insane. You're so embarrassed of what people would say to you. Or even.. do to you? They could hospitalize you! You've been sitting in the parking lot for an hour and a half.

----

You see a Facebook notification.

Leah Clearwater sent you a friend request.

You see the profile picture and freeze in your bed. You stare. You scroll through. Harry's daughter.

You accept.

----

Your cousin Winona, who you have moved to Forks with, stumbles out of her room into the kitchen where you're doing the dishes.

"Fuck. I have such a headache." She groans and holds her head.

"Ayo! Who'd you party with?" You ask.

"Nobody. I was grieving Liam Payne's passing." She chuckles.

"You know what, that's real." You reply.

"What's up with you? I didn't see you at all yesterday." She sits down at the small table.

You put the last dish in the dishwasher and shut it. You turn to face her, and then you shrug. "I went fishing and I was tired so I stayed in bed after that." You lied. You're a terrible liar.

She raises an eyebrow at you. "I'm a cop. I know things." She says.

"Okay, Charlie." You laugh.

"Oh yeah! Yesterday, I met Seth and Leah Clearwater. They came to drop off lunch for Charlie." She says.

Your heart starts beating fast, but you do your best to hide your emotions. "Ah, nice!" You sit down at the table. "How are they doing?"

"A lot better than I'd be if my dad passed." She shrugs. "But, I could tell it was still a sting to them when Charlie brought him up." She continued.

----

You stare at the messenger bubble for too long. Should you text Leah? What would you even say?

"Hey! I saw you turn into a wolf! Nice fur color."

Like???

You sigh and turn off your phone. You look outside to see the sun starting to go down just a little bit. Good time to go, hunt.

You sit against the tree, tying your shoe laces that came undone. Your shotgun is propped up against the tree beside you.

"Ya know, I can smell you a mile away."

You jerk your head up to see Leah. You drop your arms onto the ground. She laughs and sits beside you.

"I.."

"Don't worry. I know you saw. I'll explain everything to you." She sighs.

Freaking forget hunting! You're here listening to Leah Clearwater speak about the tribe, the legends, her pack, her life story, and... imprinting.

You sat and listened and asked questions. It's easier to digest the information because of the fact that she belongs to Harry.

"So.. imprinting? It can be anything. What do you want with me?" You nervously stare at the trees ahead of you.

"Well, I'm still healing from Sam. But after I saw you, it seemed to matter a lot less." She smiles.

She stands up and holds her hand out. You hesitate but glide your hand into hers. When you do, it shocks you from the feeling. She pulls you up effortlessly. She walks you home.

---

You and Leah have stuck together through the battle with the newborns, the emotions, the small flirting, Edward and Bella having a baby, the volturi, everything. Your anxiety has been high through it all because you were scared of losing Leah. You two flirt but you guys never made it official. You haven't even kissed her yet.

Here you are, fishing with Leah where you two first met. (Here's your fit:)

You guys are sitting on the rocks beside each other, soaking up the silence and peace. You suck in a breath and reel in your bait from the water. You put the pole on the ground beside you. Leah looks over at you with confusion. You cross your legs, turning your body to her.

"Leah?"

"Yes?"

"Did I motivate you during the battles?" You ask shyly.

She smiles and breathes out a chuckle. She puts her pole on the ground beside her. "Yes."

"Can we kiss?" You ask, looking at your lap.

She doesn't hesitate to put her hand on the back of your head and push you down against the rocks. Her other hand grabs your waist. You're shocked and stare up at her beautiful face. She leans down and presses her lips on yours. They're soft and warm and move so well with yours. You're so nervous and melting into her, your hands stay glued onto the rocks.

She finally pulls away and her hand that's on your waist moves up to your jaw, holding your face still. You breathe out a shaky breath.

"Did I take your breath away?"

Your cheeks turn red and you nod.

"Good." She leans down and kisses you again.

[kakashiandjuvia]

⋆·˚ ༘ * LEAH CLEARWATER HEADCANONS 𐚁̸.ᐟ

𐙚 long-distance relationship reunion

the imprint hit leah like a punch to the chest the second she saw you.

you were visiting family on the rez. distant cousins, a temporary stay, something casual. but for leah? nothing was casual after that.

your laugh in the backyard. the way your eyes met hers like they already knew her. the way the earth just… snapped into place.

she didn’t say anything at first.

leah clearwater? saying she imprinted? yeah, right.

she was miserable about it for two straight weeks. moody, snappy, pacing the woods like a caged wolf because why now? why you? why someone she’d have to let go?

you were supposed to be in forks for a month. one month. but after meeting leah, leaving felt like being pulled away from oxygen.

she barely let herself show it, but the night before you left, she held your hand so tight her knuckles turned white.

long-distance was hell.

for someone as emotionally guarded as leah, being apart from her imprint wasn’t just sad, it was agony. but she wouldn’t let herself complain.

leah hated phones. hated texting. but with you? she learned. she’d just send quiet texts like:

“did you eat?”

“still raining here. i hate it.”

“i saw a girl today who had your hair. i got mad at her for no reason.”

she texted you good morning before patrol. she’d send pictures of her coffee, of the sky before she phased, of her muddy boots and bruised knuckles with a caption like: “today sucked. wish you were here.”

you called her once when you couldn’t sleep. she picked up on the second ring, voice rough and low, and whispered, “what’s wrong?”

she stayed on the phone with you for an hour. didn’t even talk much. just breathed with you. let you ramble about your dreams.

she fell asleep to your voice that night, ear pressed to the pillow like you were beside her.

leah kept your hoodie under her pillow. she never said it, but you knew because you’d catch glimpses of it in video calls, or the way she’d hesitate before falling asleep on the phone and mumble, “i can still smell you.”

her wolf misses you constantly. when she’s on patrol, she always ends up walking the edge of the cliffs where you first spoke.

the pack teases her about it, but they also leave her alone when her thoughts go quiet and still, you’re the only thing that calms her inner noise.

you send her photos of yourself. blurry selfies, little updates, your new haircut. she saves them all. set your face as her lockscreen. pretends she doesn’t smile like a dork every time it lights up.

sometimes, she’ll write you letters she never sends. things she wants to say in person. raw things.

“you make me want a future. that terrifies me.”

“you feel like home, and i’ve never had one before.”

jealousy? oh, she feels it. hard.

if someone flirts with you in your town? she’ll go silent for hours. then text something like: “do they know you’re mine?” only half-joking. only barely.

the rest of the pack starts noticing a change in her. less bitter. more grounded. still sharp, still fierce, but… softer when she’s texting you.

they know you’re her anchor.

“i hate being away from you,” she tells you one night over facetime, eyes tired, hair still damp from patrol. “but if distance is the price for being yours… i’ll take it. every time.”

when you finally come back to la push, it’s… overwhelming.

the day of your return, your whole body buzzed. it wasn’t nerves, it was need. you’d never felt more sure of anything in your life.

you wore the bracelet leah gave you the summer you met. the one she pretended she didn’t care about when she handed it over but stared at your wrist every time you wore it.

you landed in port angeles, grabbed your suitcase, and drove toward forks with your hands tight on the wheel, heart beating faster with every mile of moss-covered trees and gray sky.

the second you hit the la push border, your hands started trembling. it felt like crossing an invisible line between longing and belonging.

the rain had stopped over an hour ago, but leah was still there. standing just beyond the curve of the tree line, half-sheltered by thick evergreens and the heavy, gray sky. her arms were locked across her chest, knuckles white where they pressed into her sides, jaw clenched so tight she could hear her own teeth grind. she hadn’t moved in what felt like hours.

her body ached. not from standing still, but from waiting.

she didn’t pace. leah never paced.

she endured.

silently. stubbornly. like if she stood there long enough, if she refused to break, refused to look weak, maybe the universe would finally give her a sliver of mercy. just this once. maybe she wouldn’t have to keep losing.

your text had said you’d be arriving in forks around 3 p.m. it was 3:48 now. but leah didn’t call. she didn’t text again. she didn’t ask if your plane landed or if your car made it through the slick forest roads. that would mean acknowledging how desperate she was, how close she was to coming undone.

but her wolf knew. it had known every second since you left.

the wolf had clawed and howled in her chest, restless and grieving. no matter how strong she tried to be, no matter how tightly she buried it, the part of her that wasn’t entirely human was starving for you. where is she? it would growl when the nights got too quiet. why did she leave us? why isn’t she here?

and leah had no answer for it. only silence. only pain.

she hadn’t told anyone you were coming. not seth, not sue, not the pack. especially not jacob. if he knew, he’d have been waiting with her, taunting, smirking, waiting for her to crack. “you’re gonna lose it when you see her. i bet you cry,” he would’ve said.

as if she hadn’t already cried. as if she hadn’t laid awake with your hoodie clutched to her chest, breathing in the last trace of your scent like it was oxygen. as if she hadn’t shifted into her wolf form just to be able to run and howl and mourn for you in the trees without anyone watching her fall apart.

god, she hated this.

hated being the girl who couldn’t function without someone else. hated how raw and feral she felt without you. how every night she didn’t hear your voice made her skin itch and her chest cave in like her bones were made of ash.

but then,

a low engine hum broke through the stillness. the sound of tires crunching wet gravel curled around the bend in the road. her head snapped up.

a rusted old car appeared. familiar. too familiar. her heart stuttered. her pulse roared.

her feet stayed frozen.

don’t hope yet, she told herself. don’t let it be her. you’ll break if it’s not.

the car pulled closer. slowed.

stopped.

the driver’s door opened.

and there you were.

you stepped out slowly, eyes scanning the trees, breath visible in the cold air. your hair was longer than when she last saw you. you looked tired. real. fragile in the same way sunlight is when it filters through a storm cloud, like she could touch you, but you’d dissolve if she looked too long.

leah’s knees buckled, just slightly.

“leah?” you called softly, searching.

she broke.

not slowly. not gracefully.

violently.

her feet were moving before her mind gave them permission. the second she saw you, really saw you, every ounce of restraint she’d buried for months shattered. her wolf surged to the surface, roaring to run, to touch, to claim. her hands trembled as they clenched and unclenched at her sides, and her chest burned like fire was eating her from the inside out.

your scent hit her like a wave.

home. you smell like home.

she didn’t remember crossing the distance. one second she was behind the trees, and the next her arms were wrapped around you, pulling you in with the kind of force that spoke of months of agony. her hands gripped the back of your jacket so tight she might tear it. her breath hitched, then caught in her throat as she buried her face in your shoulder.

you were here. you were here.

warm. breathing. solid in her arms.

your hands curled into her jacket, like you never wanted to let go either.

“i missed you,” you whispered against her neck.

leah’s body sank.

it was like something inside her finally let go. she inhaled sharply, deep, ragged, and exhaled with a sound that wasn’t quite a sob, but wasn’t far from it.

“you’re here,” she said. her voice was broken glass. “you’re actually—fuck, you’re here.”

you pulled back slightly to look at her, and it wrecked her. your eyes were glassy, lips trembling. and the way you were looking at her, like she was something holy, something worth loving, brought every last bit of her armor crumbling down.

“i hated it,” she choked. “being away from you. i tried so hard to pretend i was fine. told the guys it didn’t matter, told seth i didn’t care. i lied so much, i almost believed it.”

you reached up and cradled her face like it was the most natural thing in the world, thumbs brushing over her sharp cheekbones.

“i never believed it,” you whispered. “not for a second.”

leah let out a sound that was almost a laugh but it caught in her throat halfway. she leaned into your palms, eyes fluttering closed. her lips brushed yours first, soft, cautious, trembling, then again, deeper this time.

it wasn’t rushed. it wasn’t perfect.

it was needed.

it was the kiss of someone who had been starving for too long.

when you finally pulled away, leah stayed close. her forehead rested against yours, her hands shaking where they gripped your hips.

“don’t leave me again,” she said. not a demand. a plea. a wound. “i can’t—i swear to god, i’ll lose it.”

“i’m not going anywhere,” you breathed. “not unless you’re with me.”

she blinked at you, stunned. as if the idea hadn’t occurred to her, that she could go with you. that she didn’t have to keep saying goodbye. that she didn’t have to live with her soul clawing inside her every time you were more than a mile away.

“you’d really…?” she asked. her voice cracked on the question.

“i want you,” you said simply. “wherever we are. whatever we do. as long as you’re there.”

leah let out a sharp breath. and then her arms were around you again, tighter this time, face buried in your neck.

“i thought i was strong enough to do this without you,” she murmured. “but i’m not. i’m not. you’re it for me.”

you held her just as tightly.

and she swore she could feel it. her wolf settling, at long last. the screaming in her blood quieted. the ache that had lived in her chest for seven months faded into something warmer. something peaceful.

she didn’t know where the world would take you both next. but you were here. and this time, she wouldn’t let go.

not again.

[kakashiandjuvia]

Superwonderbat where Bruce keeps stealing Clark’s clothes anytime he can, to the point where whenever he’s at home, he is probably wearing a daily planet hoodie.

There is a problem.

He wants to wear Diana’s clothes, too. Badly.

Not only does it make him feel guilty that he’s only sporting one of his partner’s claims, he also loves the way Diana smells and her stuff always looks so comfortable, he wants to be able to lounge on the couch with a pair of Metropolis Meteors sweats on and snuggle into that plain gray hoodie he sees Diana wear all the time, his nose in the neckline to pick up the hints of vanilla and jasmine that follow his partner.

How does he solve this problem? He pouts.

Anytime he sees Diana in anything that’s not her uniform, he heaves a big sigh as he traces the fabric, sometimes going as far and to bury his head into her shoulder or stomach as he forlornly rubs his cheek into the material.

Once, he even tried to wear a sleep shirt of hers when he was staying at her place. By the time he got it over his shoulders, he had already ripped the neckline. Diana had laughed and told him it was okay, she likes him better sans shirt anyway and Bruce had to tamp down his disappointment. It was nobodies’ fault. Diana, despite her height, is smaller than him, with his broad stature and muscle bulk brought by years of work. It’s a silly thing to sulk over, but he can’t help it.

He thinks he’s being subtle about it.

He’s not.

Despite being the most elusive man in the world, he has trouble keeping stuff from Clark and Diana, especially when he really doesn’t want them to know. They talk about it, it takes them less than 5 minutes to deduce the problem and less than 7 to find a solution.

Diana buys a bunch of stuff in Clark’s size, hoodies and t-shirts and pj pants, and breaks them in. She pretty much wears only her new baggy clothing for a week. Then, she’s leaves it out for Bruce. A hoodie draped over the back of the couch, a t-shirt on top of his pillow in her bed, pajama pants waiting for him when he gets out of the shower.

He knows what they’re doing, knows they talked about it, but he can’t find it in himself to be bothered. When he saw the hoodie on the back of the couch and threw it on he thought it was a new one of Clark’s until he caught a whiff of Diana’s distinct detergent. Immediately, a smile takes over his face and he noses into the collar, taking a big whiff as he falls back into the couch. When he looks up, Clark is standing in front of him with a cocky smile on his face. “Looks good on you,” he says after giving Bruce a once over. He leans down and kisses the hair sticking out of the top of the hoodie before he disappears back out the door. Bruce hides his pink cheeks under the new garment.

The first time Diana sees him in one of her t-shirts, she gets why Clark likes it so much. He’s so cute and soft and hers. She basically dives on top of him where he’s laying on his couch, kissing all over his face until he’s breathless from giggling and shoving at her shoulders. She scoops him up to carry him to bed, holding him in a bridal carry and whispering, “my baby,” before she drops him on top of the duvet. She tells Clark they’re going to bed, curling up behind him and pressing her head in between his shoulders before wrapping an arm around his chest. Clark gets there a couple minutes later, smiling broadly at the sight of his two partners curled up together and the space left for him. He changes and kisses the back of Diana’s head before lying down on Bruce’s other side, letting himself be pulled against the other man so Bruce can tuck his head under his chin. They both hear the shy ‘thank you’ he mumbles as he squeezes each of their hands that he’s holding. Clark kisses his head and murmurs, “No problem, sweetheart.” Diana kisses the back of his neck with a whispered, “Anything for you.”

[kakashiandjuvia]

Lester’s ABCs

A/N: We be loving one awkward, human god -Danny

Warnings: A bit of swearing bc I can’t stop myself

Word count: 1,330

Keep reading

[kakashiandjuvia]

Reyna’s ABCs

A/N: Guys I’m so in love with Reyna -Danny

Request: Hey! Can I request an ABC list for Reyna? Idk if they’re only for the 7 and if so, sorry for wasting your time. Have a great day! // Can you please do Reyna ABC’s? I can never find Reyna content // Reyna ABC’s please?

Words: 1,370

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[kakashiandjuvia]

Grover’s ABCs

He needs more love, that’s it you’re honour. Also I might be naming my next fic after a Hadestown song if I manage.

Pairing: Grover Underwood x reader Request: Hello! May I please request Grover’s fluff abcs? <3 Thank you! Warnings: None Word count: ~2.2k

- Asnyox

Activities - What do they like to do with their s/o? How do they spend their free time with them?

Grover is an outdoors person, to no one’s surprise. If you aren’t chilling out with some plants together you are taking a hike, or maybe even cleaning a beach. Grover does not like being in the city too much, there is a lot of pollution there and so much dirt. So, instead you most often spend time in areas where there are little to no humans.  

Beauty - What do they admire in their s/o? What do they think is beautiful about them?

Grover is a sucker for good character. If you’re determined, loyal or kind, he loves a good positive character trait. Besides this, he also likes to admire you from afar, unaware that he was there. It’s a habit he developed in the crushing stage of the relationship and he never got rid of it. He loves seeing you absorbed in something you’re doing, just being you and in his eyes, just being beautiful.

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[kakashiandjuvia]

Hazel’s ABC’s

fuck i keep doing this, the moral of the story is: don’t let me write anything that’s based on a schedule bc i will forget about it. (peep @incorrect-coi-quotes ​ )

pairing ; hazel x gn!reader

wc ; 1,526

request ; nah pls just enjoy this

- day

Keep reading

[kakashiandjuvia]

hihi how are you? i'd like to request something SIMILARISH to my other request, involving a toddler reader with season 1 twdg gang.

basically , could you please write where said toddler reader is bitten by a walker, but they turn out to be immune? (season 1 twdg pls!!)

have a great day and take your time.

Hello! I hope you like this, this idea is soooo good! Have a nice night!!:)

Lee was so sad when he saw the bite

He didn’t want to leave you alone though

He took you with him

And that night he let you sleep on the other side of his room

When he found you were still not turned, he was surprised

Then he realized

The bite was weeks old

After that, he always protected you

Worried you might get bit again and turn this time

He was terrified

He didn’t want you to leave you

But he also wanted to put you out of your misery

He then noticed the bite was old

Very old

After that, he tried to figure out how you could be immune

He always protects you no matter if you were immune or not

Clem was so worried for you

When Lee told her that you were immune

She was a bit confused

But she came to understand

And she thought it was so cool

She was always a bit worried you might turn though

When Kenny told her you were immune

She was so relieved

She always wants to take care of you

Worried you might turn later on

She never wants you to go outside the walls of the motel

She’s so scared you’ll get bit again

He understood immediately when Lee told him

He was scared you would turn

Like his sister did

But he protects you either way

[kakashiandjuvia]

Can you do Thalia grace and her Korean and black girlfriend Eun-ji? They met when they were kids, and Eun-ji is the daughter of Artemis. Maybe headcanons with Eun-ji and Thalia hanging out as hunters of Artemis.

Thalia & Eun-Ji HC!!

How They Met

Camp Half-Blood, age 10 and 11: Eun-ji was quiet, observant, and terrifyingly accurate with a bow—while Thalia was loud, rebellious, and had already punched a satyr. They clashed instantly…then bonded over shared trauma and chaotic humor.

Shared abandonment issues: Thalia’s resentment toward Zeus and Eun-ji’s complicated feelings about her mother Artemis (who doesn’t act maternal in a traditional sense) created a deep unspoken understanding between them.

First sleepover under the stars: They fell asleep back-to-back with daggers under their pillows and woke up holding pinkies.

Becoming Hunters Together

Eun-ji joined first. Artemis claimed her after Eun-ji survived a monster ambush alone at 9. She already felt the world had nothing else to offer.

Thalia joined after the Battle of the Titan’s Curse, but Eun-ji had been quietly keeping tabs on her. The reunion? Emotional. They sparred, cried, and made fun of each other all in ten minutes.

They don’t call each other girlfriends in the traditional sense—it’s “my Huntmate,” “my moonbeam,” or “my thunderstorm.” It’s ancient, soft, and fierce all at once.

Thalia tried to act aloof for the first fifty years of their immortality, but everyone saw her melt every time Eun-ji touched her cheek or ran her fingers through her short hair.

Hunter Life Vibes

Matching armor pieces: Thalia painted thunderbolts on Eun-ji’s vambraces. Eun-ji hand-stitched a moon motif on Thalia’s cloak. Artemis pretends not to notice.

Midnight rituals: They often sneak off to share tea and whispered poems by the campfire. Eun-ji writes celestial poetry in Korean and Thalia plays with translating it into ancient Greek.

When Thalia gets overwhelmed by leadership pressure, Eun-ji grounds her—sits her down, runs her fingers through her hair, and speaks softly in both Korean and English until the storm in Thalia’s chest settles.

When Eun-ji shuts down emotionally, Thalia will drag her out into the woods, scream at the sky with her, and make her feel again, even if it’s through a snowball to the face.

Fighting Side by Side

They’re unstoppable in battle—Thalia the aggressive vanguard, Eun-ji the precise sniper in the trees. They've developed entire silent sign systems between them.

When one is hurt, the other goes feral. Once, a hydra caught Eun-ji’s leg, and Thalia straight-up summoned a mini lightning storm mid-battle out of sheer rage.

Artemis once told the rest of the Hunters, “Do not separate those two in combat unless you want to die tired.”

Tenderness Between the Chaos

Eun-ji draws Thalia constantly—in sketchbooks, on tree bark, in the snow with a stick. Thalia pretends to groan about it, but secretly keeps every sketch hidden in a pouch.

Thalia composes little punk songs about Eun-ji’s beauty and then denies ever singing them.

They make fun of each other’s godly parents relentlessly—“At least my mom doesn’t throw tantrums with lightning,” “At least my mom shows up occasionally.”

Immortal Eternity Feels

They talk about their past lives like they’re stories in a book. “Remember that time in New Orleans in 1912?” “When you wore that stupid fedora?” “You said it was cool!” “I lied.”

They’ve watched centuries pass, but nothing gets old—not the thrill of battle, not the soft glow of moonlight on each other’s faces.

They don’t believe in fate. They believe in choices. And they chose each other, over and over again.

[kakashiandjuvia]

[At Disneyland, On the teacup ride]

Jason and Nico: [Spinning a little and talking.]

Thalia and Percy: [Flying past them, Spinning as fast as they can, Screaming.]

[kakashiandjuvia]

The Hunter - Chapter 5: A Solid Foundation

https://archiveofourown.org/works/64277836/chapters/172362310

The hunters take a much more leisurely pace on their way back to Greece, giving themselves a few months for a proper tour of the far west and all of its wonders. From long treks over snowcapped mountains to days of relaxation on the banks of the Mediterranean Sea, Artemis wanted to experience all that the land had to offer. Leading her group forward with excitement akin to a child discovering a new place to play. And Zoë could not have been more grateful. Each locale was breathtaking, blending together seamlessly as one tapestry, and yet fully unique in its own right. In just a few months, Zoë saw more of the world than she had in the 1000 years that she proceeded it. Would the adventure the hunters offered always bring such joy and excitement, even after a decade, a century, a millennium even, if she were to be so lucky? The thought was dizzying but soothed any lingering doubt in her mind that joining them had been the wrong decision. She had a feeling that, much like the hunters themselves, this feeling would never grow old.

The constant travel was made all the easier with Artemis’s blessing. It was a different kind of immortality than what Zoë was used to; she felt the march of time slow around her, but still kept the aches, pains, hungers, and needs of a mortal body. As if she was stuck halfway between a mortal and a god. It couldn’t compare to the true immortality Zoë had once taken for granted, but still it was enough. Enough stamina to keep up with the others and enough strength to string her bow each morning. Even if she was roughly half as capable as she was before her banishment, it was still more than she deserved.

Even so, she found herself lying awake some nights, staring at her hands. Or more accurately, the aura that now surrounded them. The light glow that now hung over her was not the golden hue that she was used to, one that complimented the warm tones of her skin, but a clashing silver. Forever a reminder that her new immortality was not innate but borrowed.

As for the hunters themselves, Zoë found them welcoming, in their own way. Beyond basic introductions and instructions, most of them didn’t speak to her much. Content to give their newest sister space as she adjusts, not wanting to overwhelm her with too much at once. Still, Zoë found many open spaces by the fire at each meal, an open invitation to join in whenever she would like. And, most importantly, when they did speak to her, they never pushed her for information, happy with only knowing her name, if that was all that she wished to share. A true clean slate.

They started off small, focused on teaching Zoë names, chore rotations, and camp maintenance. Each day, when they set out from camp, one of them would take her to the side and accompany her for the day. She’d explain what they were doing and why, often pointing out tracks and useful plants along the way. The basics. Zoë learned as much as she could, eager to contribute to the group that had already given her so much. And while she made slow progress with most of it, she found that gathering was almost second nature. She was already familiar with plants from her time spent as a Hesperid, so learning their properties came as naturally as learning how to manage them. A small victory, to be sure, but a welcome one.

After about a month, they added combat training. Her now permanent roommate Mira was more than happy to show her how to wield a pair hunting knives. To Zoë’s surprise, the bulky hunter was no demigod, but a nymph. One of sixty Oceanids hand selected by Zues to serve as Artemis’s attendants, and the only one of their number that remained. The centuries of experience, combined with her naturally strong physique, were a potent combination, making her a force to be reckoned with on the battlefield. Zoë could not have had a better instructor.

The first day was filled with caution, as Zoë was handed a set of wooden training knives and shown some simple forms and stances. Mira’s movements exaggerated as she taught Zoë everything from a proper grip to a few simple strikes. Wielding two blades was difficult to wrap her head around, but part of her was happy to hold any kind of blade in her hand again. Though they were each lighter than her precious sword had been, and didn’t fit so naturally in her hands, some of her experience carried through. The instinctive understanding of the distance of her blade and the best angles to use in combat.

Mira picked up on this immediately, smirking a bit as she increased the speed and strength of her attacks a little at a time. Testing to see how far she could push their newest recruit, stopping only when it was clear Zoë was at her limit. It was brutal and tiring work, as despite her increase in skill over time, each match between them ended the same way. With her body being thrown to the dirt. But for every loss, Mira would come up to her, hand outstretched, and ask if she was ready for another round. The friendly smile on her face soothed any pain or lingering frustration. An invitation to try again. One Zoë would take gladly.

If only all things could be so easy.

For with combat training came archery. Artemis approached Zoë one morning, proclaiming that her first hunt would be against the Great Red Boar of Delos, and asked her to follow. A few girls snickered at the prospect, but Zoë had no time to ask before arriving at the range. Once there, she saw it; a straw filled sack the size of her torso, with a large blotch of red across it, a child’s attempt at depicting a boar. The target was significantly weathered, riddled with holes and faded from the sun. It looked like it could fall to pieces at any moment. Artemis explained that the target was crafted by her and her brother, their first target as young archery gods on Delos. And while the pair certainly didn’t need to train, it had served them well as a practice target and served her hunters well in the centuries that followed. With a wave of her hand, she summoned a bow and quiver and handed them to Zoë. Her task was set; 100 shots in a row, all hitting the boar. Then, and only then, could she be trusted on a true hunt.

It seemed straight forward enough to Zoë, at the time, and she committed to it with the same dedication she had toward the rest of her training. But even with her best efforts, at the end of each day, she found herself lacking. It wasn’t for a lack of instruction. The goddess had shown her the proper form at the beginning of her training, and every day since at least one hunter had been attending to her. Helping her get this right. No, the problem was Zoë herself. Her body, though youthful in appearance, was older than Olympus itself, it simply didn’t want to learn something so new. The basis for archery was consistency, being able to replicate the exact same movements with precision, making every shot predictable. And yet, every time she held a bow in her hands it felt like the first time she had ever touched one. No matter the hours spent futilely sending arrows down range.

And while none of the other hunters had bothered her about it so far, she could tell that they were all surprised that it was taking her this long to learn the skill. A hunter that couldn’t hunt. It was a blow to her pride that she really didn’t need, as if she had not already been humbled enough.

Zoë’s only option was to give herself more time, committing herself fully to mastering the weapon. Each day, after dinner, she would ask Mira to cover for her, as she returned to the range and got in a few more rounds of practice. That’s what she told herself anyway. In reality, a few rounds often turned into a few rounds more and on and on until the sun was setting over the horizon, signifying her need to return to camp. It became part of her routine. She’d wake up and help with the disassembly of camp, be patiently instructed by whichever hunter was available during their daily hunt, help set up camp, rush through dinner, and spend the remaining hours of daylight at the range. If only to get out her frustration.

Tonight was no different, it seemed, as she fired another arrow at the target. This one sailing high over the top. Zoë let out a sign and reached into her quiver for another arrow, resigning herself to another evening spent with little to show for it. When suddenly, a voice disturbed her practice.

“You should be resting, Zoë.” Artemis said. Not quite scolding, but clearly displeased

Zoë jumped at the unexpected interruption but recovered quickly, masking it with a quick bow of her head to acknowledge the goddess. “Good evening my lady, I will be back at camp shortly, I only wish to get a few more rounds of practice in”. She went to nock the arrow when both it and her bow disappeared from her hands. Artemis unsummoning them for her.

“That was an order. You’ve been coming out here to practice for months now, and while I’ve tried to respect your wishes, this has gone on long enough. It does you no good to wear yourself out like this. You need rest.”

Zoë wanted to argue, but kept her mouth shut. This was her first private conversation with Artemis since her vows were taken, as the hunters tended to most of Zoë’s day to day needs. While she had seen hunters lightly push back on direct orders before, she was unsure where Artemis drew the line between acceptable disagreement and outright disrespect. A line Zoë would not dare risk crossing, even by mistake. So, instead of risking it, she looked away, her frustration with herself growing by the minute.

“You disagree?”

“I need to get this, my lady. That will serve me better than a night’s rest”

“And you will.” Artemis closed the gap between them, placing a gentle hand on her shoulder. “Your form is much improved already, but these things cannot be rushed. It will come to you in time, I promise. It could take you a century to master the bow, and none of us would mind.”

But I do. Zoë thought to herself, not wanting to speak her insecurity out loud.

There was a moment of silence between the two, before Artemis sighed. “If it means that much to you, I will personally assist your training tomorrow. Provided you get enough sleep tonight, of course.”

For the first time that evening, Zoë met her eyes. The look she found in those silver irises was all the confirmation she needed to know that her offer was serious. Zoë felt a bit of the tension she didn’t realize she was holding release, and bowed her head in a show of thanks, before following her back to camp. The target long forgotten behind them.

Artemis was true to her word, as she brought Zoë to the range as soon as camp was set up next evening. The goddess had shifted to appear a few years older than what she preferred, gaining a few inches of height on Zoë in the process. A form more suited for direction and instruction. When they arrived at the range, there was no target of any kind, no distractions, only a tall grass hill and the goddess beside her.

“You need to focus on building a solid foundation. The finer points of aiming can come later. Get into your stance, and I will guide you.”

Zoë did as she was told and prepared her shot, waiting for permission to fire as Artemis scrutinized her form. One hand moving Zoë’s closer to her face to properly set her anchor, while the other loosened her grip on the bow. Then, she moved behind her, placing hands on her shoulders, softly correcting her posture. When she was finished, she stepped back, ever so slightly, clearly pleased with the changes she’d made.

“There. Now relax, and let go”

Relaxation was difficult with an Olympian nearly breathing down her back, but she managed. Taking a deep breath, Zoë felt the string slip from her fingers. And for the first time since joining the hunt, the arrow flew true, embedding itself directly into the hillside in front of her.

“Better” Artemis hummed, settling on the grass beside her. “Do that again”

They continued practicing for hours. Artemis sometimes physically correcting her form, and sometimes lining up alongside her, mirroring Zoë’s mistakes so she could see exactly what she was doing wrong. But regardless of how she handled her instruction, her voice was free of judgement, focused only on helping her improve.

As they headed back to camp later that evening, Zoë wasn’t sure if she made much progress in archery. What could one day of training really accomplish, compared to the hundreds of days she had already had? But as she looked ahead to Artemis, the goddess who spent an entire evening instructing her, just to help sooth her injured pride, she smiled. Confident that she was building a solid foundation, in more ways than one.

[kakashiandjuvia]

Superman... super-woke from the super-beginning

[kakashiandjuvia]

Shields and Bruises

Characters: Percy Jackson (11), Grover Underwood (11), Sally Jackson, Gabe Ugliano

Timeline: Pre-Lightning Thief — Percy doesn’t know he’s a demigod; Grover hasn’t revealed he’s a satyr.

⚠️ CONTENT WARNINGS:

This fanfiction includes the following sensitive content:

Child abuse (verbal and physical)

Alcohol abuse

Use of a racial slur (used by the antagonist, not condoned or repeated unnecessarily)

Ableism

Strong language (contextual and emotionally driven)

Emotional trauma / PTSD-like responses

This piece is written with care to highlight the hurt/comfort nature of Percy and Grover’s bond. If you are sensitive to any of these topics, please take care while reading. ❤️

Percy Jackson’s apartment always smelled like smoke and something burnt, but Grover had learned to ignore that. Or maybe he just didn’t care.

It was summer, and Percy had finally convinced his mom to let Grover stay over. Sally said yes the second she heard Gabe wouldn’t be home that night. Poker night. Grover could still hear the relief in her voice.

“You boys be good,” she’d said with a soft kiss to Percy’s head before leaving to work her second shift. “I’ll bring you pancakes in the morning.”

She was good like that—warm in the kind of way Grover had only ever seen in glimpses, like sunlight through dirty windows.

Percy threw a pillow at Grover’s head the second the door closed.

“Finally. He’s out, she’s out—it’s just us now. I’ve got Cheez-Its and Game Boys. We’re kings.”

Grover laughed, dodging the pillow. “Kings of what? Your two-bedroom palace with a kitchen that leaks?”

“Hey! The sink only leaks when you look at it wrong.”

The night was perfect. Cheap snacks, old cartoons, and whispered insults about the characters’ voice acting. Percy talked too loud, laughed like a bark, and snorted when he drank too fast. Grover kept leaning over to correct Percy’s dumb guesses in video games and nearly fell off his crutches twice.

By 10:30, Grover was curled in a blanket cocoon, still giggling from a joke Percy had told about their math teacher. His cheeks hurt from smiling so much.

Then, the front door rattled.

Grover blinked. “...I thought you said he wouldn’t be back till tomorrow.”

“He’s not supposed to,” Percy said, frowning.

The key turned. The door creaked.

And the smell hit first—sour alcohol and sweat, like something rotten walking.

Gabe Ugliano staggered in with half a bottle of beer and a scowl deep enough to cut stone.

“What the hell…” he muttered, squinting at the living room. “What’s this crap? Who the hell—”

Percy stood fast, instinctively stepping between Gabe and Grover. “He’s just my friend. He’s spending the night. Mom said it was okay—”

“You bring freaks into my house without asking me?” Gabe slurred. “You little shit. You think you’re in charge now?”

Grover sat up slowly, voice shaking. “I—I can go. I didn’t mean to cause any trouble—”

“Oh no,” Gabe sneered, swaying forward. “You’re not going anywhere, freakshow. You gonna limp outta here on those sticks, huh?”

Percy’s fists clenched. “Shut up. Don’t talk to him like that.”

Grover put a hand on Percy’s shoulder, trying to stay calm. “It’s fine. Let’s just go to your room—”

“You don’t tell me what’s fine!” Gabe exploded. “Stupid little cripple, comin’ into my house with your charity face and your ratty clothes. What is this, some pity project?”

Grover flinched. “I—I’m sorry, I—”

“You better be sorry, you dirty little—”

Gabe raised his hand.

“DON’T!” Percy yelled.

But Grover moved first.

He threw his arm up and stepped in front of Percy. The slap landed with a crack, echoing through the room.

Grover hit the floor, his crutches clattering beside him.

“GROVER!” Percy dove to him, catching him before he could fully collapse.

“You okay? Grover?!” Percy was practically shouting. “Why’d you do that?!”

Grover blinked up, dazed. His cheek was already turning purple.

“I—I didn’t want him to hit you…”

“You little—” Gabe turned on them again, rage bubbling over.

“Back off!” Percy snapped, standing like he was ten feet taller than he was. “Touch him again and I swear—”

Gabe grabbed one of Grover’s crutches and yanked it up like a weapon. “You want me to show you what real hurt looks like, huh?”

Grover tried to sit up, panicked. “Don’t—don’t take those—I need them—!”

“You don’t need anything, you little nigger—”

And then the world snapped in half.

Percy’s vision tunneled. Everything in him screamed. Rage and horror and white-hot guilt flooded his chest. He lunged with everything he had, fists flying, eyes stinging.

“YOU BASTARD!!” Percy shrieked. “YOU DON’T GET TO CALL HIM THAT! YOU DON’T GET TO—!!”

But Gabe was stronger. He grabbed Percy by the shirt and threw him back like a ragdoll. Percy hit the wall with a thud and gasped as the air whooshed from his lungs.

“Stop—please, stop!” Grover was dragging himself toward Percy, crying now, panic overtaking pain.

And then—

“GABE!!”

Sally Jackson.

She stood in the hallway like divine fury itself, her face pale with rage, voice shaking with power Percy had never heard from her before.

“What the hell is going on here?!”

Gabe froze.

Sally stepped forward, her eyes never leaving him.

“You touch either of them again, and I swear to the gods, I will call the cops. I will call every cop.”

“They started it,” Gabe growled weakly. “Little freaks shouldn’t be here—”

“GET OUT.”

Gabe looked like he might argue—but he saw something in Sally’s eyes that made him falter.

He tossed Grover’s crutch to the ground and stormed out, slamming the door hard enough to shake the walls.

And then silence.

Grover was still breathing hard. Percy was shaking. Sally knelt beside them instantly, brushing Grover’s curls back with gentle hands.

“Oh, honey… Oh god. Your face…” She gently cradled his jaw. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t know he’d come back. I’m so sorry…”

“I—I’m okay,” Grover whispered. “Really.”

“No, you’re not,” Percy said brokenly. “You’re not, Grover. He hit you. He said that… that word.”

Grover didn’t speak.

Percy hugged him, tight. So tight it was probably suffocating. But Grover didn’t pull away. He buried his face in Percy’s shoulder and let himself tremble.

“You jumped in front of me,” Percy murmured. “You always get picked on, and this time—you protected me.”

“I didn’t want you to get hurt,” Grover whispered. “You always fight for me. I just… I wanted to fight for you, too.”

Percy pulled back just enough to look him in the eye.

“You’re my best friend,” Percy said. “And nobody—nobody—gets to hurt you. Not for being different. Not for your crutches. Not for your skin. I swear, Grover. I’ll protect you from now on. I promise.”

Grover’s eyes shimmered. “That’s kind of my promise.”

“Too bad. We’re doubling up on it now.”

Later that night, Sally helped Grover clean his face with ice and gave them both warm towels and tea they didn’t drink. She didn’t say much—just held Grover’s hand and sat on the floor with them for a long while.

Eventually, she went to bed.

But Percy didn’t sleep.

He lay beside Grover in their blanket nest, eyes wide open. Every few minutes, he turned his head to check on him.

Grover noticed.

“You’re still awake.”

“Yeah.”

“I told you I’m okay.”

“I don’t believe you.”

Grover let out a tired chuckle. “It surprised me more than it hurt. Honest.”

Percy didn’t answer. Just moved closer, so their shoulders touched.

“…I won’t let him do that again,” Percy said softly. “Not to you. Not ever.”

Grover was quiet for a while.

Then, just as softly: “Thanks, Percy.”

And that night, for the first time in his life, Grover didn’t fall asleep scared.

Because he knew—truly, deeply knew—that someone had his back.

And Percy Jackson? He didn’t just protect you.

He loved you like family.

[kakashiandjuvia]

Zoey and Mira embracing the patterns look~ ✨✨✨

[kakashiandjuvia]

nico was definitely the kind of “monkey-see-monkey-do” kind of younger sibling (and cousin.) biancas playing soccer? hes running out onto the field. biancas holding a baby? he’ll promise he won’t drop them. biancas playing cards? well, he has mythomagic, he’s laying them out on the table. bianca has good grades? nicos raising his hand even when he doesn’t know the answer. bianca is playing with dolls? he doesn’t care if its a ‘girls game’, he’s grabbing some from the bin. bianca is watching an r rated movie? hes scratching at the door like a cat. bianca accidentally slips out a swear word? it’s permanently ingrained into his vocabulary forever.

[kakashiandjuvia]

Considering Will's light powers I am pretty sure he also discovers he can turn invisible at one point.

So that makes Solangelo and Percabeth the only two couples who can get freaky at camp. Percy and Nico having their own cabin with no other campers and Will and Annabeth being able to turn invisible so just saying lol. That happens to be the bane of Chiron's existence after a while but they keep going.