#BLUE WAFFLE CAUSES

[asexualasshat]

I’m so stressed about the US election and I’m not even from the US!! Make good choices and get out to vote

[lieslab]

Where's my love?

꘎♡━━━━━♡꘎ ꘎♡━━━━━♡꘎

Pairing: Chan X afab reader

Summary: Unannounced and unplanned, you leave your boyfriend, but when he finds you again, things have changed drastically.

Genre: Angst with a happy ending

Word Count: 2.7K

~ Part 2 ~

_ _ _

The sky grew dark again and that meant another night of suffocation for Chan. Another night of looking at the moon and hoping somewhere in the city of Seoul, you were looking at it too. In theory, the moon is all he has left of you. 

Every time he called your name, the quiet halls haunted him. Each time he dialed your number, the same automatic and robotic voice caused his heart to quiver; a threat to burst at the seams. The texts never fell through. You blocked his number weeks ago. No matter how hard he’d tried, he’d never get through. 

The worst thing about loving someone is putting your heart on a line. Handing someone a loaded gun and trusting them not to pull the trigger. The evenings used to fill with shared laughter. Your smile that he thought could harness his own happiness forever. 

As long as you stayed, his confidence grew. Those what-if thoughts turned into a reality. You provided a stable structure for the foundation of his heart. Any time he had doubts or the fears became too large, he found himself finding hope again between your hands. With his cheeks pressed against your hands, the reassuring sound of your voice, he never thought he’d have to live without it. 

He knew he had his flaws. Everyone had their flaws, but he never thought those flaws drove a wedge between the two of you. Life turned into a balancing act. Everything went well and when it fell apart, he thought you trusted him enough to open up. 

Whether that had been a lie or if he hurt you in a way that he couldn’t understand, he didn’t know. You didn’t give him a chance to explain. In the middle of a silent night, Chan stayed in the studio to finish up a beat. 

At your shared home, tears laced your eyes. In a panic and disbelief, you threw your clothes into an open suitcase. The clothes, the toiletries, and your favorite photo of the two of you. You snatched the small black frame and threw it into your suitcase, hoping it wouldn’t bend. 

Driving home from the studio, exhaustion laced Chan’s head. Purple bags smeared beneath his eyes. For a brief moment, he thought he saw a glimpse of your car. The first few numbers of the license plate matched yours, but exhaustion clung to him like a second skin. 

He didn’t realize your side of the closet turned empty. He didn’t take notice of your missing shoes. He went directly into your room, collapsed on the bed, and fell asleep assuming you were in the bathroom. It wouldn’t be anything new for you. With a small bladder, you always had to go. 

The horrendous truth wouldn’t hit him until the next morning. _ _ _ 

In the morning, blue birds sang. The only woodpecker living in the backyard filed away at a tree with a sharp beak. A mirage of morning colors swept across the bustling city. Chan rolled over, expecting to get his hands on you, but you weren’t there. 

In a sleepy haze, his eyes half-opened and he glanced around the room. A faint light filtered through the laced curtains. He squinted, looking around trying to figure out where you were, wondering if you were up making breakfast. Sometimes you woke up early, but other times, you stayed in bed past noon. 

He never knew what the mornings would bring with you. Tender touches, quick kisses, and the rest unraveled into a mystery. Would the two of you argue over the simplicity of pancakes or waffles? The age old question that you always fought over. 

Perhaps, the morning would end with him wrapping you in his arms and refusing to let you go. He’d hold you hostage and appreciate you more than you’d ever know. While you swear, he’d laugh and squeeze you tighter. Promising, vowing, and praying that none of this would ever change. 

For a few more seconds, a few more minutes, another hour, the two of you would stay side-by-side. Two hearts beating for one another through thin, stretched skin. Two halves of a whole, being forced to separate for society’s standards, before the two of you could reunite again. 

He shoved himself up, ran a hand through his messy curls, and started to search for you. He called your name, rubbed his eyes, and padded out into the living room. The TV remained silent. Your shoes weren’t parked on the usual rug beside the door. The hooks holding your house and car keys remained empty. Two golden hooks without their usual objects. A house without a beating heart. He assumed you went out to get breakfast, but the messages remained unread. 

Having to go back to work, he sent you a final text. One final text that you didn’t gather the courage to read until hours later. Hours too late. You were already miles away. You whispered the words, pretended he was reading them off to you, but you never responded. Instead, you hit the block button. 

A heavy heart, eyes swollen with tears, maybe one day he’d understand, but you had to do what was best for the both of you. 

Even if it nearly killed you in the process. 

_ _ _ 

Four years, seven months, and two days. 

That’s how long it took before the two of you stumbled into each other again. The first months hurt and the wounds on each of your hearts grew raw. You bled endlessly, but what more could you do? Everything always fell apart before it could come back together again. 

You still kept up to date with Chan’s band. You bought every album and listened to every song. Woven through the lyrics of his song, a man mourned. He bled guilt. He pleaded for his lover’s return, but it never led to anything. 

Those first few weeks, he searched for you everywhere. With a photo of you, he went into your favorite places, desperately holding up your smiling face to employees, begging to know if they had seen you. Nobody ever did. You faded into the abyss, but his feelings for you never did. 

You vanished like a ghost. You haunted him at all the wrong times. Your missing presence caused the band to go on hiatus for three months. Nobody could make music when their leader was mourning. 

The guys tried to call you. They tried hunting you down. Chan even tried to contact your parents, but no matter what it did, it was a lost cause. The only thing that gave him hope was your best friend. 

At a loss, he appeared on their front doorstep in tears. Begging and pleading to know if you were okay. They promised you were, swore to him that it’d make sense one day, and shut the door. It never made any sense until today. 

The guys wanted his father’s lamb. His father was in Australia and he knew it’d never be as good as his father’s, but he tried to recreate it anyway. The guys had worked non-stop over the past six months. Their latest album sat at the top of the charts for seven weeks in a row and they were hoping it’d stay there for a while. 

Your disappearance caused his heart to ache, but it grew less now. Time heals all wounds and this one was no different. Deep down, he always hoped he’d be able to see you again, but he accepted that your disappearance was final. He’d never get the closure and that stung, but what else could he do?

In a face mask and a baseball hat hiding his face, he heard your voice first. A pack of raw lamb sat in his hand. Debating how many packs to buy, he thought he might have finally lost it. 

“No, no, no. What did I say? We can’t poke the raw meat’s plastic. If our fingers go through it, we can get sick. We don’t want that, do we?” 

Your voice wasn’t harsh, but rather a gentle compassion. He spun around to find you grabbing the hand of a small toddler and coaxing them away from the raw meat. His heart fluttered against the side of his chest. 

There you were. Your hair grew longer, but the bags beneath your eyes remained the same. Tucked in a hoodie and a pair of sweatpants, you chose your comfort over society’s peer pressure to look your best all the time. He thought he might drop to his knees. 

“Do you want to sit in the cart? We’re almost done and then we can go back home. Grandma is waiting for us. It’s supposed to snow later. We need to get back to her house before the storm starts.”

Your hands reached out, but their head shook. Black hair bobbed and sat in waves around her small shoulders. Dressed in a pink fluffy coat and fur-lined winter boots, her little foot stomped. “No!” 

“Come on, honey, let’s-” 

The little girl spun around and took off running. Not realizing how close the stranger was, she dashed into Chan’s legs. He gasped and reached down to steady her. 

Your eyes widen. “I’m so sorry! She can be a handful and-” Your cheeks went red as you hurried forward to grab her. 

The girl’s head tipped back, trying to see who she ran into. Chan reached up and gently pulled his mask down. The girl gasped and grinned. Two dimples and a mouthful of baby teeth. “Daddy!” 

“No, honey. This isn’t-” As your eyes met Chan’s, your world stopped. “Bang Chan?” 

“Daddy!” The little girl squealed again. Her tiny arms wrapped around one of his legs. 

He had so many questions for you, but they didn’t come out. Instead, his gaze fell onto the child at his feet. The same brown eyes as his. The same dimples. Looking at her reminded him of the childhood photos of himself. 

She had your smile, but from what he could see, everything else was from him. She cooed and pressed her head into his leg. “I like your music. Makes me dance.” 

“Honey,” you pleaded again quietly. “Come on, I’m sure he’s busy and-” 

“Is this why you left me?” The words fell out before he could stop them. “Is she really my daughter?” 

You blinked rapidly, trying not to cry. Coming back to Seoul had been a terrible idea, but your mother lived here. You couldn’t just stay away from her forever. You knew there was a chance you’d run into Chan when you were back, so you went to the places you thought he never visited. Apparently, times had changed over the years. 

“Can we talk about this somewhere else?” 

“So you can leave me again?” He asked. Sadness laced his voice and your heart squeezed with pain. You hadn’t meant to cause him any harm, but you knew you had. 

You glanced around, making sure the two of you weren’t being eavesdropped on. Realizing it, he tugged up his face mask again, so nobody could recognize him. Your eyes slipped shut and then they reopened. 

“I left you because I was pregnant. It was a stupid thing to do, I know. Deep down, I was terrified you’d want to stop making music. I couldn’t ask you to pick between leaving your band and being a father.” 

“So you just left without a good-bye?” 

“It was cowardly, but I was afraid. I was afraid of everything. I didn’t know if I was going to go through with the pregnancy. I didn’t know if you wanted me to keep the baby. I didn’t know a lot of things. By leaving, it was easier than forcing you to choose.” 

“I have a daughter?” 

“Her name is Odette.” You stepped around the grocery cart, bent down, and picked her up. “I know that I’ll never be able to-” 

“Odettie Berry!” Odette squealed. “That’s me!” 

“Berry?” 

You swallowed the lump in your throat and nodded. “You couldn’t be there when I named her. I felt awful when Berry died. I know how much you loved her, so I just…” 

The hurt grew indescribable. Your actions had been those of a coward, but knowing that you named your daughter after the dog he loved the most, it was touching. Odette Berry was perfect. 

He reached down and placed the grocery basket on the ground. “Can I hold her?” You nodded and gently handed her to him. 

She smelled like a faint mixture of baby powder and lavender. Her rounded head dipped forward. Her chin pressed against his shoulder and caused him to smile. A loud yawn pulled at her lips. You blinked rapidly, trying not to cry again. 

To her, her father was not a stranger. You let her watch every new Skzoo Code video. Every new song, the two of you listened to together. No matter the distance you put between you and Chan, you still made sure she knew who her father was. 

“Come back home,” Chan whispered pleadingly. “She’s my daughter, too.” 

“I don’t want to cause any issues.” 

“I still have the apartment. The spare bedroom is empty. I still have all of your stuff that you left behind. You can’t just keep her hidden away from me now that I know she exists.” 

“Wolf Chan,” Odette mumbled as her eyes drooped. 

“She knows about Wolf Chan?” 

“Daddy’s plushie.” 

You cursed softly beneath your breath and scrambled through the items in the cart. “He’s in here somewhere.” You pushed aside the bread and eggs. Digging through the cold meat, you finally found him. “She can’t sleep without him.” You held it out to Chan. 

He grabbed it and brought it towards your daughter. “Is this who you’re looking for? Wolf Chan?” 

“Mmhm.” 

He smiled at her sleepy voice and tucked it beneath her arm. “There you go. You can sleep tight now, little one. Wolf Chan is here to save the day. You’re safe in Daddy’s arms.” 

You sniffled and wiped at the tears, trying to stop them. He paused when he said you. “Sorry,” you whispered. “I’ve been hoping you’d accept her, but I-I didn’t know. She loves you and the guys so much.” 

“She knows about the guys?” 

“Of course, I’ve told her about her uncles. Do you really think I’d never tell her? She has all of their plushies too. They line her bed and she can’t sleep without them. I think she loves Seungmin and Felix the most.” 

“Seungmin?” 

“She finds his bullying funny.” 

“You’re raising our daughter to be a Seungmin junior?” 

“No!” Your head shook rapidly. “I said she likes Felix too. She loves to help me bake. Just you wait, she tries to make beats like you too. Back home, she’s constantly tapping away at the kitchen table. I think she’s like you more than you’ll ever know.” 

“Please come back home.” 

He reached an arm out towards you. Without hesitation, you hurried over and wrapped your arms around him. Your shoulder lightly pressed against your daughter. For a few moments, the world stopped, and the missing pieces realigned. 

Your cart of groceries sat abandoned behind you. Chan’s struggle for lamb seemed like a minor inconvenience more than anything. The guys wanting lamb brought him back together with you and his daughter. 

Odette Berry curled into his shoulder and cuddled a Wolf Chan plushie. This morning, his biggest challenge of the day was finding enough lamb. Now it was figuring out how to adjust to life with a child. 

No matter how upset your actions made him, no matter how much it hurt; he understood it now. No matter how much he wished you would have picked better choices, it was far too late. Things finally aligned in his favor and that was all that mattered now. 

Four years, seven months, and two days. That’s how long it took him to find you again. Despite that, a lifetime of memories now awaited him. New memories with his daughter. He’d have to figure out how to tell the guys that he had a kid. 

His ghost had finally been found and that was the best gift anyone could ever give him. 

| ♡.﹀﹀﹀﹀.♡ | ♡.﹀﹀﹀﹀.♡ | ♡.﹀﹀﹀﹀.♡ |

Taglist: @lia-linny @seungnishi @stellasays45 @emilyywhyy @rockstarkkami @flightlessackerman @danihwang882 @inlovewithstraykids @velvetmoonlght

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[invincibledc]

⋆. 𐙚 ˚𝑷𝑳𝑨𝑻𝑶𝑵𝑰𝑪 𝑫𝑰𝑪𝑲 𝑮𝑹𝑨𝒀𝑺𝑶𝑵 + 𝑴𝑨𝑹𝑲 𝑮𝑹𝑨𝒀𝑺𝑶𝑵 𝑿 𝑺𝑯𝑰𝑭𝑻𝑬𝑹!𝑪𝑯𝑰𝑳𝑫!𝑹𝑬𝑨𝑫𝑬𝑹⋆. 𐙚 ˚

pt.1 || pt.2

☆〜 what a smart child, a powerful child that is a god in their own world. The power to shift through realities, the power to make things shift to your own amusement. But what happens when this simple child, this child in elementary, shifts into a universe of violence, landing onto a soft bouncy house.

Giggling wildly, they hop off the bouncy house, ignoring the shock looks of parents as some kids at this assumed birthday party had their jaw drops. But this child didn’t care but to explore! And explore they did, they found themself in a place called bludhaven. A man with some kinda suit with black and blue appears the next minute behind the child.

“Hey kiddo, where’s your mommy or daddy?” His tone soft and gentle. Turning around, the child shrugs, use to them being randomly teleported due to their powers. “Don’t know. I want ice cream!” They point to an ice cream truck, accidentally changing the topic as they rush at it. Nightwing could only panic as he rushes over to this hyper child.

“Hey! Look both ways before crossing!” After the small heart attack, nightwing lets the child get on his back. Going to the police station to see if there is any records about this random child that had randomly made the one scoop ice cream into a three scoop.

After seeing there were no records of the child’s parents, or at least the child at most. Nightwing didn’t know what to do, he didn’t want to give the small child up to foster care. Foster care isn’t the best option at times.

So….he took care of you. He made sure you didn’t know who he was. Dick started to take care of you like a father and an older brother. Not bothering to help you learn things you didn’t know before. But it was only for so long til he could keep the secret before you had found his suit in his closet. “Mr. Grayson!” Dick turns around with a smile. “Yes kid—” immediately drops the pan that held pancakes as you held the Nightwing costume.

“Hero! You’re a herooo!!” Your eyes widen as you put it down gently with small pats. “I wanna be one!” Dick puts the pancakes up with the pan and picks you up, shaking his head no with worry. “No! No! You are too young, and you still are in 3rd grade. You can’t just be a superhero” you pouted as you pointed to the pancakes which transformed into blueberry waffles.

“But.. I wanna help people.” Dick has learned about your powers since you turned broccoli into a chicken sandwich. “Yeah… but it’s not worth it. Believe me.” Haley barks at her owner, staring at him with those big eyes of hers. “But Haley goes out on missions with you!” Dick’s eyes widen as he sits you down.

“You know I went on missions!?” Pouting, you huff. “How can Haley go but I can’t?” “Cause you have school!” “Not on weekends!” The argument you both had left some heavy air for a few days. Mostly cause of your stubbornness, you held a grudge, and when you hold a grudge. You hold one. You reminded him of his younger brother, Damian.

Dick tried everything to get you to forgive him, as such as; ice cream, plushies, movie tickets to the new paw patrol movie. Hell even the newish SpongeBob movie.

Okay now you did talk to him and cling to him like you usual do. But that ended right after the movie ended. Then finally, you’ve won as dick had Bruce clutch in and made you a suit. The suit was very cute with pastel colors due to your love with sparkles. You even named yourself the “Sparkler”, but who knows how long that name will last when you get older.

Yes, dick intends to take care of you to the point you grow old enough to move out. He’s practically the only family you got… in his point of view not knowing you have an actual family out of this reality. But he feels like he actually has his own family, sure he has one with the batfamily. But with you around and your childish antics, he felt.. calm.

As if you were his charge. And he loves it. It’s been months, almost a year since you’ve been here and he would go to any rehearsal you have if you join anything. Hell, he was so happy to hear you call him dad at least. Not dick, not Mr. Grayson.

But dad.

You both already created such a family bond that Bruce even sees you as his grandchild. And his brothers see you as their [nephew/neice]. Damian even gifted you a tiny sword, and dick snatched it away the minute you started swinging it around.

But eitherless, you had fun with your parental figure! That was still a sparkly patrol arrived out of no where.

You were coloring as Dick was in the kitchen cooking your favorite meal, you turned at the portal, not interested as you only rolled your eyes. It was just some portal that would appear when your time limit in a reality has passed. But you loved staying here! Dick was better than your own parents at your own world… but you guess the portal said otherwise.

The portal made a weird noise, like it was growling as it started to suck in everything in your room. Eyes widen, you get up, ready to run. “Dad! Dad!” You yelled for him, the portal started to suck in the plushies like a black hole. You dodged some things that could’ve hit your head.

You were so close to the door! But then the portal got angry, starting to gulp in everything. Dick, who heard a loud scream, dropped whatever he had in his hands when he heared your scream. Haley was ready too as she followed her owner to the room of his beloved child.

But he was too late.. the room was empty of everything. Including you. The blue eyed male dropped to the floor, Haley whines, trying to sniff around. You were gone, your scream echoed in his head.

He was late… late.. late….

Late……

He felt broken. He couldn’t save you from whatever happened…..

Where did you even go?

☆

Mark was flying through the sky, patrolling the city bored as he frowned. “God this is more boring than usual…” then he gets hit with a flying child that fell from a sparkly portal.

Mark grunts as he held you tight to his body, not wasting time or fly to a safe spot. He would’ve thought you would be shaking, scared, crying. You looked no older than 8 or at least 9, yet you had such a soft look on your face along with nonchalance.

“Well that was fun!” You exclaimed as you jumped excitedly. “H-how..? What the…. Are you okay?!” Thoughts was running through his head, a kid, much younger than his half brother was standing infront of him, dusting themself off as if they weren’t close to even dying!? “Oh me? I’m fine! But i need to back to my dad.” You looked around the place that you landed by with this hero.

Seeing no sparkly portal, you frowned. You felt sad, usually you didn’t feel this sad when going through another universe or whatever they are called. Mark looks at you confused, “Hey uhm, buddy? What are you looking for?” He questions as he tries to gentle his voice. “Portal with sparkles! It’s my way back to my dad!” You grabbed mark’s hand. “You’ll help me right?”

Mark didn’t know if he wanted to, he should! Of course he should! But the way you aren’t worried about falling from the sky, yapping about some kind of sparkly portal, and you’re a child. This could ring into trouble. But you look so innocent, and scared.

“Listen, what does your dad look like?”

“Well he has black hair, blue eyes, and he has dimples.” You pointed to both side of your cheeks to make it seem like dimples. Doing so, mark almost laughed at how adorable you seemed. Okay maybe you weren’t trouble, but you definitely were lost.

“Alright, let’s find your dad.” He picks you up, having you smile thinking that maybe he could get someone to have you into the place you were in before…

TO BE CONTINUED

[wvyik]

YOU WANNA?…

dean winchester x fem! reader

ꕤ summary: dean’s been acting weird all morning, but you don’t think much of it — until he casually slides something across the table between bites of waffles. And just like that, your whole world tilts.

♯ warnings: mdni!! pre-established relationship, aggressively casual proposal, dean being a menace as usual, fluff so sweet it might kill you!!… eventual smut (because let’s be real, this man does not propose without following through. is skip able though!!). dirty talk, dom! dean, oral sex, praise kink, unprotected sex, after care cause ima softie.

♯ notes: AHH!! had so much fun with this one. tysm for all the support >ᴗ< i appreciate you all!! tbh this is the best thing I’ve ever written in a while. we love dean with a happy ending. ꒰˶  - ˕ -꒱ buckle up for the spicy stuff later!! as always, feel free to drop a comment or yell at me if you’re feeling some type of way about this. i’m here for it.

It’s early. Too early.

You’re exhausted in that way only hunters understand— the kind that seeps into your bones, makes your muscles ache, keeps you in that hazy space between asleep and awake, even with a steaming cup of coffee cradled between your hands.

Dean, of course, looks annoyingly good for someone who barely got any sleep. His hair is a mess, there’s a fading bruise on his jaw from last night’s hunt, but he’s still effortlessly him — green eyes warm with amusement, shoulders relaxed, mouth curling into a smirk as he watches you fight to keep your eyes open.

“You look like you got run over,” he says, the corners of his lips twitching.

You take a slow sip of your coffee, staring at him blankly. “Thanks. You always know just what to say.”

He chuckles, reaching for his own mug. “Just speakin’ the truth, sweetheart.”

You roll your eyes but don’t argue. Not now, anyway. You’re definitely too tired for that.

The sound of Dean shuffling around the motel room pulls you out of your half-sleep. You crack open one eye, only to find him already dressed, boots laced up, and pacing with that ‘we’re about to hit the road’ look in his eyes. His leather jacket is hanging on the back of the chair.

You rub your eyes, groaning, and try to keep the sleepiness from spilling out of you. “Do we really have to go now?”

Dean grins, not even bothering to look at you. “You know how I feel about sitting still.”

You roll your eyes again, itching to bargain with him, but knowing if you did, he’d just drag you into whatever shenanigans he had planned for the day anyway. After a couple of minutes, the room starts to feel too small, and the silence is making your head spin, so you sit up. The plan— at least, the unspoken one — was to hit the road after a quick breakfast, and you’ve learned that when Dean Winchester says quick, he means quick.

The car ride isn’t long. Dean’s humming along to the radio, steering with one hand as he swerves around potholes, and you’re trying to ignore how damn good he looks in the morning light filtering through the car windows. Eventually, the sound of the engine and the warmth of the sun lull you into a comfortable quiet. You’re barely paying attention when you both pull up to an old diner on the side of the highway, a place that looks like it’s been around longer than you’ve been alive.

Dean parks and shoots you a look and smirks. “I’ll bet you ten bucks the pie here could change your life.”

You raise an eyebrow but don’t question it. You know better than to doubt him by now.

The diner is quiet, just a few truckers scattered at the counter, the hum of conversation mixing with the low crackle of an old radio playing Blue Öyster Cult in the background. The air smells like burnt coffee and bacon grease, and the vinyl booth seat sticks slightly to your thigh where your jeans have a tear, but it’s…nice.

Comfortable.

It’s one of those rare, normal mornings. No hunts lined up. No immediate danger. Just you, Dean, and a crappy little diner on the side of the road.

You should’ve known he was up to something.

Dean’s been acting weird all morning.

Not in an obvious way. He’s still teasing you, still stuffing his face with an ungodly amount of waffles and bacon, still shooting you that signature smirk every time you make a face at him.

But his knee is bouncing under the table. His fingers keep drumming against his coffee cup. And every once in a while, you catch him looking at you — this soft, thoughtful expression flickering across his face before he shakes it off.

You think about asking. But then your waitress swings by again, and Dean immediately perks up, flashing her a charming smile as she tops off his coffee.

“Another round of waffles, darlin’?” she asks, clearly smitten. You don’t blame her.

You smile softly behind your mug as Dean leans back, cocky as ever. “Wouldn’t say no.”

The waitress laughs, shaking her head. “You got a hell of an appetite.”

“That’s what she said,” Dean mutters under his breath, just loud enough for you to hear.

You kick him under the table. He deserved that one.

By the time the waitress walks away, Dean is already back to his food, completely unfazed. You shake your head, cutting into your own waffle, stealing one of his bacon strips just to be a menace. He lets you.

And then— casual as anything, like he’s commenting on the weather— he reaches into his pocket, pulls out something, and slides it across the table toward you.

A ring.

Just sitting there. Between your plate and the salt shaker.

Your brain short-circuits. You stare at it, then at him. Then back at it.

Dean, the absolute menace that he is, doesn’t even look up from his food. Just swipes some syrup with his fork, chews, and— without a single ounce of drama — says,

“You wanna?”

You blink. Your mouth opens. Closes. Opens again. Because what the hell is happening right now?

Dean finally looks at you, chewing like this is just another Thursday.

“What?” he says around a mouthful of food.

Your heart is slamming against your ribs. You feel warm all over, but you can’t tell if it’s from the crappy diner coffee or the fact that Dean Winchester just proposed to you like he was offering you the last french fry.

“That’s your proposal?” Your voice comes out hoarse, disbelief and laughter mixing in your throat.

Dean tilts his head, squinting at you. “What, you want me to get down on one knee in a greasy diner?”

“You literally just slid it across the table like it was a packet of sugar!”

He shrugs, still watching you, still unreadable in that way that makes your stomach flip. “Ain’t exactly my style, sweetheart.”

Your fingers shake as you reach for the ring. It’s simple— silver, understated, perfect. It feels warm from being in his pocket, the edges smooth against your skin.

Dean’s watching you carefully now. The teasing is gone, replaced by something softer, something quieter.

And that’s when it hits you.

Dean Winchester— who has faced monsters, demons, literal hell — is nervous. Like he’s bracing for impact. Like there’s a real, tangible fear in him that you might say no.

Your throat tightens.

“You really want this?” you ask, voice barely above a whisper.

Dean exhales through his nose, sets his fork down. He leans forward slightly, arms resting on the table, eyes locked onto yours.

“Sweetheart,” he murmurs, voice steady now, sure in a way that makes you melt. “I already got you. This is just making it official.”

Your heart stumbles. Because of course he’d say it like that. Like it was never even a question, like you already belonged to each other. Like you always would.

The ring feels solid between your fingers, grounding. It’s not grand or flashy. It’s him. It’s you. It’s perfect.

And god,

You don’t cry, but it’s a close thing.

You swallow hard, slip it onto your finger. It fits like it was meant to.

Dean watches, lets out a breath like he was holding it for years, and then— because you know him, because you love him— you smirk and say,

“You better get me a pie for this.”

That knocks the tension right out of him. His mouth quirks, the easy grin sliding back into place. “Damn right, I will.”

And just like that, you’re engaged. Not with a big speech. Not with grand gestures. Just this. Just him.

In a tiny diner off the highway, with bad coffee and waffles and the love of your life sitting across from you, grinning like a fool.

You bite your lip, trying to hold back the flood of emotions building up in your chest. You weren’t expecting this. Hell, you didn’t even know you needed it. But now that it’s here, now that he’s here, you feel like your whole world is shifting into place.

“I don’t know what I did to deserve you,” you whisper, leaning your forehead against his.

Dean chuckles, the sound deep and warm. ���You’re the one that’s perfect, sweetheart. I’m just lucky.”

You shake your head slightly, not sure how to respond. You’ve been together for so long now, and yet, this moment still feels like a beginning. Like everything that came before— every hunt, every stupid argument, every late-night conversation— it was all leading to this. To this small, simple, perfect moment in a stupid dingy diner.

Dean cups your face, tilting your chin up so you’re looking directly at him. There’s a quiet intensity in his eyes, and for once, you see a rawness that he doesn’t always show.

“You know that’s the thing,” he murmurs. “It’s not about what you deserve. It’s about what you’re willing to fight for. And you—” He pauses, his thumb gently brushing over your cheek. “You’re worth every damn fight, sweetheart. Always will be.”

Your heart stutters in your chest, and you realize you’re not even breathing properly. It’s overwhelming, the way he can say so much with so little. His words hit you deeper than you expected, more than you thought you needed.

“I’m in this. All the way, okay?” he says softly, like he’s reminding you, like he’s trying to make sure you know it, truly know it. “I don’t do half-assed. Not with you.”

“I know,” you reply, your voice barely more than a whisper, the emotions bubbling up.

His lips press against your forehead, soft and tender. And in that moment, you know—you know—that you’re not just his. He’s yours too. No matter what comes next, you’re a team.

Dean pulls back, a playful smile tugging at his lips again, trying to break the weight of the moment. “So, uh, you think I could maybe get a little ‘yes’ out of you? Just a tiny one?”

You laugh softly, your chest full. You tilt your head, looking up at him with a smile that feels too big for your face. “Yeah. Yeah, you could.”

Dean’s eyes light up, a twinkle in them like he’s won the lottery, like this was the answer he’s been waiting for. He presses another kiss to your lips—brief, but meaningful.

And for the first time in a long time, you feel like you can breathe. Like the world, in all its chaos, has paused just for you two. Like nothing else matters except the person standing in front of you.

You know there will be bad days, tough hunts, and fights, but for now, this moment is enough. This love is enough.

And you, you finally feel like you’ve found where you belong.

“Guess we should finish our waffles, huh?” Dean says, the mood lightening again, but his hand still resting on yours.

You chuckle, your heart still racing. “Yeah. But let’s take it slow, okay? We’ve got all the time in the world.”

Dean grins, that cocky, perfect grin you know so well. “Works for me.”

As you both finish your meal— laughing, talking about whatever random thing crosses your mind— there’s an understanding between you two now. You don’t need big gestures or flashy moments to know what’s real.

What’s real is here. What’s real is you two.

And it’s always been that way.

Back in the motel room, the door clicked shut behind you with a soft thud. The dim light from the lamp on the nightstand cast long shadows across the room, the only sound the faint hum of the old air conditioning. The weight of the night pressed in on you— quiet, comfortable, and full of possibilities you weren’t ready to voice just yet.

Dean kicked off his boots and tossed his jacket onto the chair by the door, then turned to face you. There was something different in his eyes now, something deeper, as if the last few hours had opened up a door neither of you could walk away from.

You stood by the bed, your heart thumping in your chest, but your feet seemed glued to the floor, unsure of what came next. His gaze flickered down to your hand, still resting in his from the diner, then back up to your face. That smile— always so effortless, so charming— pulled at the corner of his lips.

“You good?” he asked, voice soft, but with that low, steady warmth you knew so well.

“Yeah,” you whispered, your words barely escaping as your breath hitched. Your heart was racing, but you felt rooted to the spot, unsure if you should make the first move or wait for him to pull you in again.

Dean’s eyes never left yours as he slowly closed the distance between you, his movements slow, deliberate. You could feel the space between you getting smaller, the air in the room suddenly feeling thicker, charged with that same electricity you couldn’t ignore.

When he finally reached you, his hand came up to gently tuck a strand of hair behind your ear. His touch was soft, but there was no mistaking the heat in his fingers, the way they lingered just a little longer than necessary, as if he was trying to memorize the feel of your skin.

You let out a breath you didn’t realize you were holding, eyes fluttering shut for a second, just to take in the moment. He was so close now. Close enough that you could feel the warmth radiating off of him, close enough that the faint scent of the leather jacket he had left behind filled your senses.

Dean’s lips brushed against yours with a familiarity that made your heart skip a beat. This wasn’t the first time— far from it— but each time felt like it was. Every kiss was still a little bit like a spark, each one lighting a new fire. And tonight, there was something different. Something deeper, even though you’d been here before.

His fingers trailed down your arm again, slow and deliberate, like he was memorizing every inch of your skin as if he couldn’t get enough of it. You shifted beneath him, feeling the tension of the moment settle between your legs, but it wasn’t rushed. It never was with him.

“You know what you do to me, right?” Dean’s voice was low, rougher now, but laced with that familiar tenderness. He didn’t need to say it, not really. You could feel it in every touch, every lingering kiss.

You nodded, your lips parting as you leaned up to meet him halfway, pressing your body closer to his. You’d been here before, but that didn’t mean it ever lost its power. It was still just as electrifying, just as sweet.

His hands moved to the waistband of your jeans, pausing for just a moment as his eyes locked onto yours, searching for any hesitation. But there was none. You didn’t need words; your body told him everything. Your jeans met the floor with a slight thud.

With a deep, almost frustrated sigh, Dean pushed your jeans down just enough to slide his hand under them, his fingers skating over the curve of your hip. It was familiar, comforting even, but the way he touched you now felt different. There was a slowness, an intentional care in every movement. Like he wanted to savor you this time.

His lips met yours again, but this kiss was slower, more languid, as if he was taking his time, soaking in the moment. He kissed you like he was letting his feelings pour into every movement, every press of his lips, until the rest of the world disappeared.

“You make me forget everything else, you know that?” Dean’s breath was hot against your ear, his hands expertly undressing you, but it was still slow. As if he was enjoying the feel of your skin more than the outcome of it. You could tell that this wasn’t about rushing, about getting to the end. This was about being with you, right here, right now.

You breathed his name again, a plea more than a whisper, and Dean, ever the attentive lover, responded immediately, his lips trailing down your neck, to your chest, as his hand wandered over you, knowing exactly where to touch to make your breath hitch.

But this time, it wasn’t about the heat of the moment— it was about the slow, delicious build of something bigger. His lips left a trail of soft, lingering kisses across your skin as his hand gently slid down your side, his touch grounding you to the bed. His body moved against yours with that familiar rhythm, but tonight, it felt like it meant more. Like you meant more.

He paused for just a moment, looking at you with those eyes—dark and soft all at once. “I love you, ‘s fucking much. I wanna make you feel so good, baby.” His voice was thick with something deep, something serious, and it made your chest tighten with emotion.

You nodded, pulling him back to you, pressing your lips to his with a fierce intensity. It wasn’t just the physical connection anymore. This was something that went deeper, something stronger than before. And you wanted it. You wanted him.

Dean groaned as you tangled your fingers in his hair, pulling him closer as he moved between your legs. You moan, as he skillfully worked his fingers in you, slowly climbing on top of you— as your head hit the not-so-soft pillows on the bed. You could feel the thrum of his heartbeat against yours, steady and strong.

“Dean…” The word came out like a breath, your fingers gripping his shoulders as you tugged him back up, wanting his lips on yours again. He smirked, just slightly, but there was nothing playful in the way his eyes held yours. It was all raw, all real.

“Easy,” he whispered, voice gruff but gentle as his thumb traced over your lip. “Atta girl, doing so good for me.. Don’t worry bout’ it, we can take your time.”

You nodded, your eyes heavy with desire but filled with trust. “I need you, De..” Your voice was soft, but there was a definite edge to it. The words felt like they had weight, like they meant something. Something more than just this moment.

He exhaled deeply, eyes darkening as his hand slid to your waist, guiding you beneath him as he moved down on you, slipping your panties fully off. The space between you was so minimal now that it felt like you were one.

His mouth lightly sucked on your needy clit, his thick fingers still working their magic inside you. You couldn’t help but let out an almost pornographic moan. You were so close, he could tell.

“Mhm, honey.. let it out, cum on my face,” he whispered against your needy pussy. The stubble on his jaw teasing you even more, as he practically buried his face in your wetness.

Oh, you were a goner. “Dean— fuck, I’m gonna—“ You didn’t even finish your sentence as the orgasm came rushing through you. As dean still worked, still slurping up your juices in his mouth like his life depended on it.

He finally let his face out of between your thighs, kissing you gently— letting you taste yourself on his tongue.

“You’re incredible,” Dean muttered, his voice raw as he pressed his forehead against yours, breathing deeply. “Never forget that.”

You met his gaze, your chest tight with emotion. “I won’t. Not with you.”

Dean’s lips found yours in a deep kiss, and as he slowly pulled back, his hand moved to your waist, gently coaxing your hips up against his. His jeans came off, so did the shirt — the sound of the zipper loud in the quiet of the room, and you felt a rush of heat flood your body again. He was so close, and yet, there was still something in the way he touched you that made everything feel like it was building to something more.

“Don’t tease me,” you whispered, your voice a little breathless, but there was a hint of playfulness too—something you knew he’d pick up on.

He smirked, his lips brushing your jaw as his body settled between your legs. “Me? Tease?” His voice was a teasing mockery of innocence, but there was nothing innocent in the way he touched you, nothing at all.

“Oh, yeah, and this? Off.” He gestured to your shirt, earning a chuckle from you. He skillfully pulled the shirt off of you, unclasping your bra with ease, gently touching up on your breasts.

Dean’s eyes never left yours, that fire still burning in them, but there was a softness there too, a tenderness that made your chest tighten. “You’re so fucking beautiful,” he murmured, the words slipping from his lips like a prayer. His lips moved to your neck again.

You looked at him wide-eyed, as he pressed his lips back onto yours briefly, before sliding one hand down his boxers, pulling his hard cock out of its confinements, already leaking with pre-cum. You never get tired of seeing it, really.

There’s a hunger in his gaze, but it’s a hunger you recognize—one that’s been building between you two, one that isn’t just about tonight. It’s deeper, quieter, but oh so real.

“Y’ ready for me?..” he murmured, and you could only respond with a soft ‘mhm’ sound, too turned on to make any proper sentence.

You’re not just the next moment in line for him— you’re everything. His hand on your skin, his body pressed to yours, it’s all proof of the quiet trust that’s been growing between you since day one.

You can feel the way his chest rises and falls with each breath, as he slowly pushes inside of you, his heart beating steady against yours. It’s like he’s giving you all of him, in this simple, quiet way, and you know you have his heart just as much as he has yours

“That’s it— Jesus, sweetheart. You’re still so fucking tight, can’t believe it’” he chuckles slowly, and you whimper when he finally gives all of himself for you. And he waits for your permission to start moving.

“De.. okay— you can move.” You manage to say breathlessly after a little bit. Nothing can prepare you for that moment, though. As he slowly moves in and out you swear you see stars. And gosh, the sounds that fill the room, it’s so goddamn good, you think before biting down the moan.

“Mhm, yeah.. So fuckin’ perfect, angel, you’re doing so well for me.” He almost whimpered. Goddamn you, Dean — And your filthy mouth.

His lips found yours again, and the kiss was deeper this time— full of assurance, of trust, of a promise that nothing could tear apart. You could feel how much he believed in the two of you, in the bond you shared.

His hands roamed your body, confident and firm, like he knew exactly where to touch to make you lose your breath. Every movement was purposeful, a teasing promise of what was to come.

“De— m’ so close, please” you managed to whimper through the moans, trying to keep up with his pace with your hips.

His lips lingered along your neck, kissing and nipping at your skin, his breath hot against your ear. “I know baby, me too. You can come, sweetness, m’ right there with you.” he murmured, his voice a hushed growl that sent shivers down your spine.

As you both reached your climax, you can’t help but smile. After the world-shifting intensity of the moment, you both lay there, tangled up in sheets and each other. Dean shifted just enough to pull you close, his chest rising and falling with a steady rhythm against yours, as though he was grounding himself in the softness of your presence.

His fingers brushed gently through your hair, the touch so tender it was almost as if he was trying to memorize every strand, every curve of you. The warmth between you didn’t need words; it was enough to feel him there, still connected to you in every possible way.

“Are you okay?” Dean’s voice was low, but it carried that softness you’d only hear when the walls were down and he wasn’t trying to hide anything. There was a genuine worry in his tone, an unwavering need to make sure you were feeling just as safe and cared for as he felt.

You nodded against his chest, your hand resting over his heart, feeling the steady beat that reminded you of the calm after the storm. “I’m perfect,” you whispered, your voice still a little breathless, but full of warmth.

Dean chuckled softly, the sound low and comforting, like it always was when he felt content. “Good. ‘Cause I’ve got you, and I’m not going anywhere,” he murmured, pulling you closer, his arm draping over you protectively as if making sure you stayed there, safe in his arms.

He pressed a gentle kiss to the top of your head, the gesture soft and caring, his way of showing that there was more to him than just the physical connection. It was always about the little things—the way his touch lingered, the way his eyes softened when he looked at you, like you were the only person in the world that mattered.

There was no rush to get up, no need to fill the space with words that didn’t need to be said. You both understood each other in the quiet.

Dean’s thumb brushed against your hand in a rhythm that made you feel grounded, like he was telling you he was there in ways that didn’t need to be explained. Slowly, you let your eyes flutter closed, wrapped in the softness of his care, feeling safer than you had ever felt.

He kissed your forehead again, his voice barely above a whisper. “We’re good, you and me. Always gonna be good.”

And in that moment, with the faintest smile tugging at your lips, you knew he meant every word. The world outside the room didn’t matter, not when you had this—this peace, this love, this feeling of being completely and utterly cared for.

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[cosmica-galaxy]

=Survival and Servitude= Cookie Run x Giant!Human!Reader

Part: 2

Genre: General

Warnings: Little Blood/Injury

Word Count: 3,ooo (3K)

The Cookie Kingdom was a cacophony of worry, confusion, intrigue, and fear as the resident cookies went about their day upon the arrival of a very familiar airship.

The airship parks in the designated landing area of the kingdom, the ship itself radiating with familiar yellow, blue, and waffle pattern accents. On board the said-airship were a few sugar gnomes and the pilot. However, the most important cookie on the airship was dressed in a large waffle-like headpiece, golden robes, a robe with chocolate-like drippings, blonde hair, a closed-eyed warm expression, and a brooch that glittered with the power of his blue souljam. Yet, his expression quickly turns to worry once the Ancient cookie steps off of the airship to see the Cookie Kingdom residents on edge by some unknown cause. What could be causing the residents of the Cookie Kingdom to be so tense…? “Pure Vanilla cookie! You got my letter!” A familiar voice calls out and the ancient changes his expression to a more pleasant one as Gingerbrave and Wizard cookie hurry up to the landing pad to greet their cookie friend. “Gingerbrave! How nice it is to see you!” Pure Vanilla cookie says with a beaming smile. “And yes, I received your letter. You said that your kingdom has a major issue and that you all need my aid as soon as possible…” Vanilla takes a quick look back to the various citizens that look like they are on edge as they hurry from one place to another. “Seeing how your citizens seem to be stressed, I can only imagine what you all may be dealing with to cause such a wide-spread sense of tension…” He tilts his head curiously.

“However, what sort of issue is afflicting the entire kingdom that requires my healing? I figured you would need something more along the line of advice or knowledge…is there a blight or some other form of contagion that is spreading in the populace or…?” “I…well, you see. Yeah! We, uh, do have an issue. A pretty big one, actually.” Gingerbrave slightly admits, rubbing the back of his head. “Oh, definitely. You won’t believe what he has gotten this kingdom involved with, Pure Vanilla Cookie.” Wizard cookie states in an exhausted manner. Pure Vanilla could only look on in growing worry as Gingerbrave flinches slightly at Wizard Cookie’s comment. “What do you mean…?” Pure Vanilla simply mutters in befuddlement. Gingerbrave can only sigh out of exasperation at the unknown cause of his grief.

“It’s probably best just to show you, Pure Vanilla. Follow me!” Gingerbrave exclaims and the cookie begins to make his way off towards a part of the kingdom that wasn’t too far away, Wizard cookie and Pure Vanilla in tow.

Pure Vanilla could only reflect on Gingerbrave’s strange behavior internally. Wondering what has gotten this Kingdom so riled up that a sense of anticipation constantly hung in the air. It was thick and heavy…almost suffocating. Yet, he follows Gingerbrave unhindered as Wizard cookie walks with the two as well, Strawberry Cookie not being around currently to say ‘hello’ to the Ancient sadly. He was expecting to be taken to a hospital or some other place of healing…not a large airship hangar. In fact, this building seemed to be used for the large croissant ships that were primarily used for expeditions…why here? “Uhh…are you sure we are at the right place, Gingerbrave? I doubt my healing can do much here…?” Pure Vanilla questions, obviously confused. “It’s not a machine or anything, Pure Vanilla.” Wizard cookie speaks up, pointing at the building with his staff. “What needs healing is INSIDE this building.” He clarifies. “Oh..?” “Y-Yeah…just…don’t freak out, okay?” Gingerbrave states before opening the cookie-sized door in the front and going inside, and Wizard cookie cautiously follows after him. Now, that made Pure Vanilla pause for a moment in the doorway to the hangar.

It’s inside…this large building…? What could possibly be within this place that Gingerbrave urgently needed Pure Vanilla to come out specifically for his healing prowess? In fact, Pure Vanilla could tell that something was rather amiss about this building the moment he approached it. 

Why were there so many of the kingdom’s guards everywhere around it…? Was it a large cake monster? A group of vagabonds? Maybe it was something that hasn’t been discovered before out here in the wilds? Whatever it was, it may be dangerous…or it may have some serious injuries if Gingerbrave reached out to him personally for his skills. Still, he grew curious.

What could be in there that could possibly break his calm composure…or as Gingerbrave put it–”freak out”?

Without another moment of hesitation, he walks into the hangar, and suddenly stops in place. He finds himself frozen to the spot the moment his eyes make contact with the creature in question and he finally processes what was hidden within such a large building.

A human.

Gingerbrave and Wizard cookie were currently standing near the being, who appeared to be unconscious, and observing it from the safety of the railings and catwalks that line the hangar’s interior. “G-Gingerbrave?!” Pure Vanilla states with a slight tremble in his voice. “Is that what I think it is…?” He says, slowly approaching the railing with caution. The creature rests peacefully. Completely undisturbed as it lays curled up on the hardened sugar floor of the hangar. “Haha…surprise!” Gingerbrave weakly jokes, sticking out his candy cane with false enthusiastic pizazz. Pure Vanilla can barely process what he was witnessing and could only stand on the catwalk in silent awe. For a moment, he was stunned and just...intrigued, in an odd way. Yet, he turns to Gingerbrave and Wizard cookie–wanting to do something or say anything. But the only word that managed to slip by his toothcing was a single question, “how?”. “Gingerbrave–” Wizard Cookie asserts, pointing his staff at the cookie in question. “--Decided that we should take this thing into the kingdom to try and make it better.” “Is that true, Gingerbrave?” “I…well…” Gingerbrave holds one of his arms nervously. “It’s a bit of a long story, Pure Vanilla Cookie.” Gingerbrave begins, “You see…last night, everyone felt this MASSIVE earthquake at around midnight and it really startled all the citizens in the kingdom! During the night, we told everyone that Strawberry, Wizard, and I would go out to investigate the possible cause!” Gingerbrave explains. “So, we found nothing near the Kingdom for the entire morning. Then, we branched out towards Dragon Hill and found large craters in the ground and a messy trail of broken trees! At the end of the trail…we found them.” Gingerbrave continues. “And then this doughbrain decides it would be a good idea to approach it!” Wizard Cookie cuts in. “He could’ve gotten hurt…or worse! Eaten!!” “Hey! They were unconscious!” “Doesn’t mean that they won’t wake up at some point!” “Alright, alright!” Pure Vanilla waves his hand gently, trying to calm the two cookies. “I can understand that you are pretty brave for a cookie Gingerbrave…but I thought even you were terrified of the witches?” Gingerbrave flinches again. “I…well…I am. I still am! But, Pure Vanilla…I don’t think this is a witch. They aren’t dressed like one and they look different!” Gingerbrave confesses. “I just…I can feel that they’re different. Though, I can’t really explain why…”

“Oh yeah. I forgot to mention that this is all off a gut feeling that Gingerbrave has. Yeah. This whole idea? His gut’s doing.” Wizard goads, but he is quietly hushed by Pure Vanilla. “But, why bring it to the kingdom?? You know that there are obvious concerns with their…habits. Are you not worried?” Pure Vanilla questions, his face reading sincere concern. “I know…I know.” Gingerbrave muses. “But…what else am I supposed to do? Leave them there to bleed out in the forest?” This takes Pure Vanilla aback. “Bleeding…?” He says in an aghast tone. “It’s injured…?” “Yes. But…none of our healers are experienced with such…well…creatures. Some even outright refused because they believed that it would awaken and eat them…” Gingerbrave said in a sorrowful tone. “We only managed to buy enough time for your arrival. I don’t know if the wounds have gotten better or worse…but it has been sleeping for a long time. It hasn’t even stirred or woken up at all in two days.” He continues. “A good or a bad thing depending on who you ask.” Wizard Cookie snarkily comments. Pure Vanilla seems to be pondering deeply about something. “That’s why I reached out to you. I couldn’t think of a better healer with a strong sense of empathy than you…” Gingerbrave admits. “So…do you think you would be able to help them…?” Pure Vanilla finally looks away from Gingerbrave to stare at the large slumbering being before him. Yes. He knows the witches species well…but never well enough.  Most of what he knew about humanity was their very powerful magic, their ties into creating the world of Earthbread, and their…horrific habits of eating cookies, and yet they were also the creators of his soul jam.

His mismatched eyes scan over their body and he could already see the pooling of redness that was beginning to spread on the hardened sugar floors. If this kept up…they would surely die. He sits there for a moment longer in silence. Trying to balance his own cookie instincts to turn away and flee and his compassionate nature to give healing to the injured…no matter the being nor the size. 

If he allowed the human to die, what would he think of himself? Healers are supposed to heal. Yet…what if Gingerbrave is wrong and this IS a witch? 

But even he knew, as an ancient cookie who has lived a long life, that even the witches served a purpose for cookiekind. 

Despite their appetites for cookies, some witches hold elements or forces in balance for Earthbread. If a witch were to die and there was no master for those forces anymore…what chaos would that bring unto Earthbread? Better yet…another more important question would be to find out what happened to this human. 

Who on Earthbread would dare commit such heresy as to attack and attempt to kill a witch? He has a very ominous feeling at the thought that some cookie was out there attempting to take down the witches and doom Earthbread itself.

Just like Dark Enchantress Cookie…maybe it was Dark Enchantress Cookie…?

This isn’t good. He needed to act quickly.

“Uh…hello?? Earthbread to Pure Vanilla! Are you there?” Wizard cookie could be heard saying from his side, which startled him out of his deep thoughts.

“Oh! My apologies…I was just contemplating things. But…yes. I will help heal them.” Pure Vanilla nods, to which Gingerbrave’s eyes lit up and Wizard cookie just lets out a defeated sigh.

“Oh! Thank you so much, Pure Vanilla Cookie!! I knew I could count on you! Here! Follow me down there! I’ll show you where they need the most attention!” Gingerbrave says, opening a sugar-metal gate next to him and descending the flight of stairs to get on the ground. “Pure Vanilla…are you sure you know what you are doing?” The Wizard can’t help but ask as he follows the ancient cookie down the stairwell. The holder of the light of truth could only let out a sigh. “It may be hard to believe, but even the witches help to uphold order and to prevent chaos in Earthbread, Wizard Cookie. My fear of the chaos that will erupt in the absence of one of the witches is far greater than the risk of being eaten by one.” Pure Vanilla Cookie admits.  “In truthfulness, my fear of those two things is even lesser than what I truly am concerned about. What I fear more than either of those things…is who decided to attempt to eliminate one of the witches, or humans, that may or may not oversee certain aspects of Earthbread. ” Pure Vanilla Cookie continues.

“Even worse…what if this wasn’t the first one to fall? If this attempt on their life had succeeded and they were killed by their mysterious assailant–then nobody would have any idea that our world is currently unraveling as we speak.” Pure Vanilla Cookie states seriously.

“This is a matter I must bring up to the other ancient heroes in a council as soon as I am able to.”

Wizard cookie doesn’t say anything else, as he and Pure Vanilla approach the spot where Gingerbrave was eagerly jumping up and down to get their attention.

“Here! The worst of the wounds are here!” Gingerbrave points with his candy cane up at the creature, where Vanilla could only guess was the creature’s side, and he could see three long crevices cut into the…dough(?). Though, there were numerous cotton fluff gauze bandages trying to cover the wounds, yet it wasn’t helping much.

Wordlessly, Pure Vanilla begins to examine the wound site.

The more he looked, the more he could see the jam(?) slowly drip out of the wounds in slow moving rivers. He takes a deep breath, trying to ignore the strange taste of metal in the air, and he prepares to get to work.

He has never healed a creature of this size before….let alone one with such different anatomy. So, he can only hope that his magic is strong enough to penetrate through the…dough(?) of the human.

His hands begin to glow with a bright golden light and he gets to work.

In a way…it was fascinating to watch his magic flow into the creature when he touched them.

Their soft dough(?) took his magic easily and the irritated wounds slowly began to stitch themselves closed. He watches with awe as the torn dough(?) slowly comes back together, like the sail of a large ship slowly repairing itself and undoing the damage that was done to it.

The larger of the wounds slowly and steadily closed and the smaller wounds nearby seemed to vanish seamlessly into nothing. Leaving behind a perfectly healed layer of dough(?). The rivers of jam(?) stopped flowing out of the human’s body and Pure Vanilla took the opportunity to pull away and gasp for breath.

This…was taking a lot more magic than he anticipated.  Still…it was fascinating to finally touch such a legendary fabled creature that wasn’t intent on devouring you. In fact, their race was more squishier than he expected them to be…it was nice in a strange way.

“Are you okay, Pure Vanilla? You look exhausted…” Gingerbrave worriedly asks, watching as the ancient tries to gain his breath back.

“I am…okay. It’s just taking more…magic than I anticipated.” He pants. “But, I will not falter! I need to stop the wounds from bleeding so they can…ah…start recovering.” He gasps.

“Wow…you’re right! We need to keep going! I’ll show you the other side. There’s some pretty nasty wounds in their dough over there as well.” Gingerbrave says, walking with Pure Vanilla and Wizard Cookie.

However, as they pass the front of the sleeping giant again, something metallic catches the gaze of the passing ancient.

“Gingerbrave…” He suddenly asks. “What is that device on their wrist?” Pure Vanilla questions, looking at the ominous object with a look of concern.

“Oh, that? We…don’t really know. They had it on them when we found them! We had some arcane cookies look at it before you arrived and–”

“It’s in a language we can’t understand!” Wizard Cookie interrupts. “Apparently, it’s some form of magic artifact that is apparently a part of some incantation…but we can’t decipher the runes that were used…” He explains.

“Hmm…allow me” Pure Vanilla offers.

Then, Pure Vanilla Cookie approaches where the shackle remains attached, taking in the silvery glint that was polished to near perfection. The glowing red writing on the cuff glows ominously at his approach and he leans in just enough to slowly make out the writing.

He knows these words…no. He remembers this language.

This new revelation sends a chill down his spine when the familiar writings bring about his old memories of White Lily and his years of being at the blueberry academy…and those forbidden textbooks.

“Do you know what it is…?” Wizard cookie inquires.

“This…is dark moon magic.” 

“WHAT!?” Gingerbrave and Wizard Cookie bellow out simultaneously. “It’s dark moon magic.” Pure Vanilla repeats. “More specifically, a shackling incantation. This is typically used to ‘shackle’ creatures into forced servitude. It is a powerful incantation that can only be broken by the one who imprisons the victim and the victims of the curse are granted very little will of their own…if any at all.” He continues. “I’m starting to think of something much worse than simple attempted murder...” Pure Vanilla admits, touching the shackle and feeling the familiar dark magic swirling within the moonstone. “I have a feeling that these injuries were inflicted upon this human during a struggle. They must have resisted the placement of the second shackle, hence why there is only one…” “Then…that means…?” Gingerbrave mutters out, completely missing how Wizard Cookie’s single eye suddenly gets very wide. “Yes…some cookie may not be out to kill the witches…but to control them. To force them to do their own bidding.” Pure Vanilla says, standing up and facing towards Gingerbrave. “Gingerbrave, this situation is more dire than I could have ever predicted…and I thank you for showing such compassion to such a large creature. This is news I have to give to the other heroes as soon as possible.” “G-G-G-Guys…” “Aww! Thank you so much! But I was only doing the right thing, Pure Vanilla cookie!” “G-G-Gu-Guys…!” “Come. Let's finish healing up their wounds–” “GUYS!!!!” Wizard Cookie practically screams, which gains the other cookie’s attention very quickly. “What is it?! What happened, Wizard Cookie!!?” Gingerbrave shouts while looking towards his friend, who was suddenly standing pretty far back and trembling uncontrollably. “L…Look….L-Look behind…” Wizard Cookie stutters out while he shakes. “Look…? Look–” Pure Vanilla starts. But both Gingerbrave and Pure Vanilla suddenly fall still and silent when the feeling of a strong puff of warm air brushes by the both of them. Both cookies suddenly begin to slowly turn back around to face the source… They both could only stare in horror as the sleeping expression of the giant was now replaced with a large pair of eyes that were staring down at them all. The giant has awakened.

[phoenixortheflame]

Bound: Soup-pocalypse and The Great Curry Cataclysm by SquadOfCats

Typeset, bind, and illustrations by: me, @phoenixortheflame.

Eleven years after the war, Draco Malfoy leads a quiet, boring, and perfectly respectable life, thanks very much. Or, at least he does, until a sudden and very unexpected veela awakening causes him to throw soup all over Harry Potter in the middle of the Ministry cafeteria.

Every once in a blue moon I pull together a bind in four days, and other times I agonize over it for months. This was one of those rare occasions where inspiration hit — and then simply did not quit.

The cover of the bind was inspired by the novel Icarus by K. Ancrum. And I drew veela Draco based on a tattoo of a falling Icarus, which is an adaptation of the Phaeton from "The Four Disgracers" (ty @haxkattpress for the art lesson!)

For programs I used Procreate for the illustrations (veela Draco, bowl, waffle), Affinity Publisher for the typeset, Designer for the full-title page typography treatment, and Canva for the book cover.

There are a lot of letters sent between Draco and Harry in this fic, so I chose handwriting for each of them.

Finally, I did a sneaky little inside cover design featuring waffles. Regular or fish — you decide!

I did not make a copy for the author, as they've left the fandom; however, I made sure to check that they have blanket permission for binds. (That said, Squad, if you see this and you want a copy, send me a DM!)

As always, the extra copies are gifts. No money was exchanged.

If you have any questions and want to learn how to bind fic for yourself, feel free to get in touch!

[thoughtfulfiction]

Full of Surprises

Author’s note: My first Joe request from a gorgeous anon! Hope you, my angel @emmyblues and all the other New Years babies had an amazing birthday!!!

Pancakes. Waffles. Is both too much? A little fruit on the side? Should he have bacon on the plate? What about eggs?

“Joe,” he snapped out of his thoughts at the sound of a perturbed voice. “What should I make? I’d like to know today, please.”

The man continues walking around the kitchen, running through the plan in his head. It’s honestly causing him more effort than most of his pregame prep. Football was easy, it was x’s and o’s, utilizing his cadence and dissecting some of the best defenses the league has ever seen. Simple things. Planning the perfect birthday wasn’t exactly something he’d practiced his entire life but it was the first one he’d be spending with you living together so he was willing to try his best to make it unforgettable.

“Okay,” he places his hands on the counter, facing his chef. The first order of business for the day was to deliver you breakfast in bed but he loved you too much to make you sit through a meal he cooked. So he called in a professional to start the day off on the right foot. “Chocolate chip pancakes. Final answer.”

“Thank you,” his chef Morgan cracks a tiny smile, patting Joe on the back. “Relax man, she’s gonna love it. If anything, today might be a little over the top but hey—I’d go all out for my girl too.”

That did nothing to ease his worries. He made his way to the living room to touch up some of the decorations and make sure that the layout is how he pictured it in his mind. He thinks for a second, laughing to himself about how you’re still peacefully sleeping upstairs and he’s running around like a headless chicken. By the time he’s putting on the finishing touches, the food is ready and he needs to wake you up so you have time to eat and spend a little time together before he has to leave for practice.

You wake up to the most delicate kisses peppering your face, your neck, your collarbone. Trying to ignore it, you pull the covers over your face but your morning energy, or lack thereof, is no match for him. He easily takes the comforter away, pulling you in close enough to have his mouth back on your skin, kissing your shoulder. Each gentle touch enhances the beautiful wake-up call.

“Good morning sunshine,” he states calmly, “happy birthday.”

You hum tiredly, opening your eyes to ogle at him in all of his glory. His icy blue eyes peering into your soul, the way his arm muscles clench while holding onto the tray full of food that he sets in your lap. You don’t think you’ll ever get tired of this view, of being in his orbit…as long as you live. And he’s completely dedicated to making this entire day all about you. “Thank you baby,” you cover your mouth and back away when he leans in, “morning breath?”

Joe scoffs, “come here woman,” he grabs you by your legs, wrapping them around his waist and reaching over to present the most perfect platter of pancakes you’ve ever seen in your life.

“Thank you! You didn’t have to wake up extra early and do all this,” you give him a very quick peck, immediately digging in.

He takes a piece of fruit off of your plate and pops it into his mouth, “thank Morgan actually. I didn’t make any of it. But…I do have big plans for you today.”

“Oh you do?”

Joe nods, grabbing your fork so he can feed you. He sat there and helped you finish the plate, giving you a kiss after each bite. Once you were finished, he let you brush your teeth before pulling out a blindfold.

“This is a bit kinky…” you trail off as the light is replaced with complete and utter darkness. Joe gently ties the blindfold after wrapping it around your head and waving his hand in front of your face to make sure you can’t see.

“Maybe I’ll save it for later,” Joe growls into your ear, playfully smacking your butt before grabbing your hand slowly walking the two of you out of the room.

The gentle padding of his feet on the ground, leading you down the stairs is the one thing you can focus on. You knew he was only leading you to the living room but you really don’t mind trusting blindly to hold your hand through life and wherever it may take you.

Light comes back to your world when your boyfriend takes off the blindfold, his mischievous smile making an appearance.

“Joseph…what did you do?”

He puts his hands up, looking at you like he has no clue what you’re talking about. The entire living room is covered in balloons, two giant gold numbers depicting your age sit on the couch, surrounded by a array of lavish gift bags. “Oh, I almost forgot,” Joe rushes out, taking long strides toward the doorway and coming back with his hands behind his back. The birthday hat you made him wear a few weeks ago is suddenly now on your head and he takes a picture of you in the middle of the room and you feel like you’ve just won a spelling bee. “You can take it off now if you want, I promised my mom I’d get you back for making me wear the stupid hat. But you look good in the stupid hat so it’s not as funny.”

“Aw you’re so sweet,” you tell him with a laugh, kissing him on the cheek as he hands you the first gift.

The first three bags are Bvlgari. A complete matching set containing a ring, necklace and a bracelet. All gold. The next bag is Gucci, an ivory bucket hat.

“I have the same one in black. Figured we could match,” Joe shrugs, handing you the next one.

Calf length leather boots, with red bottoms. Then another pair of boots, which could be considered more casual since they’re Chelsea boots…except they’re Prada. And of course, he got you the Prada travel bag you mentioned in passing nearly a month ago. “Thank you. You really did not have to get me all this stuff. All of this is beautiful and so thoughtful.”

You wrap your arms around him, hugging him tight and giving him a tender kiss on the lips. “What did I do in my past life to deserve you?”

Most of your early relationship you tried to be firm in letting him know you weren’t with him for the stuff he can buy you. Over time as the trust and love continued to build between you two, you realized that it wasn’t the end of the world to be pampered and showered with gifts every now and then, internal cringing less at the thought of the prices at the end of his gift receipts. The man seemed satisfied with how his first two surprises had gone, letting you know that your friend Ryan was on her way to pick you up as soon as he was gone for practice. Every detail had been carefully planned out so you wouldn’t be alone and bored while he was gone.

As soon as he was out the door you took your time getting ready, putting your new items away in their respective places. Ryan texted you that she was on her way after you got out of the shower, not telling you where you were headed so you opted for minimal makeup and a casual but cute outfit and some sneakers in case there was walking involved.

The surprise ended up being an extensive spa treatment. A 75 minute deep tissue massage and a Vitamin C facial. Then there was the mani-pedi, hydrotherapy soak and exfoliating scrub included. You felt the most relaxed you’ve felt in years, all the tension was released literally from the top of your head and neck area to your feet.

Your home was eerily quiet when you and Ryan came back. The lights were off and Joe was nowhere to be found, even though the car he took when he left that morning was back in its usual spot in the garage.

“Babe? Are you home?” You called out, starting to search for him.

Ryan turned on the kitchen lights and suddenly the room was filled with people yelling “surprise!” Your mom and Joe’s mom were there, along with several of your friends, a few Bengals players and their significant others were also in attendance.

On the side table was a massive spread of food, mostly comprised of your favorites and you bravely held back the wave of emotion to greet everyone and thank them for coming. Having a birthday on a holiday has never been easy. Growing up it was a time where people were either out of town to celebrate with their families or it was just simply too much work to even want to plan anything concrete in case plans had to be moved around or cancelled. You sometimes felt like the day was completely overshadowed. Now that you were an adult it wasn’t the biggest deal in the world as long as you had a relaxing and relatively fun day but for Joe to gather some of your favorite people in the world all in one place to be with you on your birthday meant more than you could explain. Speaking of Joe, you hadn’t seen him yet.

You are in the middle of asking Chase Brown’s girlfriend Jazmyn if she has everything she needs from her baby registry when you spot him. In his hands is the most beautiful heart shaped gold birthday cake and he’s beaming as he starts the “happy birthday” song and everyone in the room joins in. Your eyes are closed when he sets the cake in front of you, telling you to make a wish. The first reaction is to ask him what more could you wish for when you have everything you could possibly want right in front of you, yet you indulge him and stand still to think for a little while before blowing out your candles and letting people try the cake.

Between the conversations about playoff scenarios and resolutions for the new year, the room is bustling with activity. Even Joe seems relaxed, a water bottle in hand and never really taking interest in being more than five feet away from you at all times. You catch his eyes a few times throughout the afternoon, a comforting smile here and there going a long way while the people in your home happily mingle and make significant dents in the amount of food available. Nobody really seems to notice that the two of you have snuck off other than your moms, who exchange knowing smiles.

“Alright, you have to stop.” You tell him once you’re finally alone.

“Stop what? What am I doing?”

“Stop looking at me with that face. That I’ve seen you naked several times face, don’t give me that face. Not with my mom in the room. Because when you make that face and you’re staring at me with that—freaking stare I want to do something about it. And I can’t. Cause my mom is in the room. And so is yours. So stop it. That should’ve been my birthday wish.”

Joe rolls his eyes, closing the already short distance between you. “Well, when you say a wish out loud, it doesn’t come true.”

He’s looking at you again, less intense this time, more…soft. You’re the only person in the world that gets to see him like this, completely undone and void of his impenetrable exterior. This is the man you’ve continued to fall in love with the more you’ve gotten to know him. And when your lips meet his you can’t help but grin, brushing your finger along the side of his jaw with your thumb. The kiss is as soft as a feather, almost painfully slow as Joe teases you, letting you trace his top lip with your tongue until he opens his mouth and takes charge. Before the kiss goes any further he pulls away, sitting down in one of the oversized swivel chairs in the corner of the room and letting you settle on his thigh.

“When did you have time to do all this?” You ask him earnestly, “I mean with your schedule and the end of the season. How did you—”

He leans into your touch, kissing the tiny space behind your ear that he knows makes your skin feel like it’s on fire. “No matter what’s going on in my life, I will always find time to celebrate my favorite person in the entire world. I really wanted you to feel special today.”

“You make me feel special everyday. But for what it’s worth, you’re my favorite person in the world too.”

Joe kissed you on the head, patting your leg so you can stand up first. He tells you to wait here, signaling there’s one more surprise in store. In his hand is a card for you to read…alone. “I’ll be out there making sure Sam hasn’t eaten all of your cake,” he jokes, giving your hand a squeeze on his way out.

Running your fingers across the front of the letter, you admire Joe’s handwriting, trying to think of what could possibly be inside the envelope. Your curiosity gets the best of you rather quickly and you’re tearing it open, holding a small piece of paper in your hand.

Happy birthday baby,

I’ve been thinking about the perfect way to close out the day. Then I thought about birthday sex and doing unspeakable things to each other and got a little distracted. So I took a break to regroup and come up with an actual plan. Today is about you and how amazing you are. How you’ve changed my life for the better. How you’ve been my rock every step of the way during this up and down season. One that I wouldn’t trade for the world because at the end of the day, I get to play football, which love and then I get to come home to you, which I’m starting to love more and more every day. You’re my dream come true and I’m so lucky to get to do life with you.

And if you ever tell anyone I wrote you a love letter on your birthday I’ll deny it. We are taking this to the grave.

I love you,

Joe

You were already in tears halfway through the letter, the waterworks in full effect when two tickets to Disneyland in Tokyo were taped to the bottom of the letter.

How was he ever going to outdo this birthday?

The Bengals should seriously consider signing you for a short term contract the way you wrap Joe up in your arms as soon as you spot him. If he hadn’t seen you coming and knew your reaction, you probably could’ve taken him to the ground. “I take it you liked the present?”

You shrug, “not a bad first offseason trip,” the facade quickly fades and you hug him again, “thank you Joey, for everything today…and everyday. I love you.”

“I love you too.” He leans into you, resting his head on yours for a few seconds.

Tilting you head up, you look at him. “Wait…is this why you got us the bucket hats?”

“That’s exactly why I got us the bucket hats. We gotta fit the vibe babe. Blend in.”

You huff out a laugh. “Right. Of course.”

You once scoffed at an 8:30pm bedtime and now it was hard to keep your eyes open at 9:16pm, laying in bed next to Joe. And you swear you just heard him giggle, leaving you wide awake.

“Did you party too hard birthday girl?”

“It’s not funny! I’m getting too old for this,” you mumble into his side.

Sometimes you don’t even remember what life was like before him. And you definitely don’t want to know a life without him. Here he was Mr. Football fiend, in the middle of the season, going above and beyond to make you feel celebrated, special and loved beyond measure. And he’s always so warm, being in his arms is grounding you, slowly lulling you back to sleep.

The two of took a power nap so you could make it to the ball drop. At 11:59, he wished you happy birthday again and you kissed him at midnight wishing him a happy new year.

“Thank you for escaping the womb. I’m really glad you did that.” He pulls on your—well his—hoodie strings so you can’t see, kissing your nose.

“You’re a freaking idiot.”

[livlocus]

Love Buzz (Jason Grace x Fem!Reader)

Characters: Jason Grace, Piper McLean, Leo Valdez, Percy Jackson

Requested by @jgraceluvr: Hello may o have a Jason grace fic when the reader had a huge crush on him but don’t make a move because he is the ✨mighty son of Jupiter praetor✨ but in reality he is the biggest softie ever and he is like. Man I want I to ask her out but she is intimidated ? With a piper and Leo match maker ? Please

Summary: Jason Grace has a crush on you, but after a sparring incident, he is much too afraid to talk to you. Unknown to him, you also have a crush on Jason, so Piper embraces her parentage and forces Leo to play matchmaker with her for you and Jason.

Warnings: my grammar, cursing, kissing, crack fic vibes ??? genuinely lost track of where this was supposed to go about halfway through, and now we are here i fear

Word Count: 6.6k (it literally would not stop)

Liv Yaps: heeyyy... so i hope that this has the vibe that you wanted! i'm realizing that this accidentally turned into a crack fic... idk how it got so dramatic but i just could not stop so i fear it spiraled a bit haha i tried my best and it took me a while to fully conceptualize this but then it all like, word-vomited out of me haha. (yes i was in fact listening to love buzz by nirvana while i was making the post so that is the name now, the bassline has infiltrated my brain) i tried to make jason seem all praetor-y but also the true awkward jock-nerd hybrid that we have come to love, i feel like it's kinda ooc.... idk i was on a lot of caffeine when i finally pumped this out haha. i fully made up what the training area at chb looks like, i genuinely have no idea if they ever describe it in the books (im sure that they do and i just don't remember lmao) i also have to apologize for that entire sparring sequence because i have absolutely no clue how to write physcial fighting scenes lmao but i hope that you like it :)

Piper was annoyed. She had just spent the past three days convincing Jason to talk to you, and now here you all were. Jason at the Zeus table eating an embarrassingly plain waffle and stealing glances at you, so quick that they might as well not have been there. His blue eyes narrow and darting from his waffle to you and then back to his waffle. 

Piper was ready to get up from the Aphrodite table and drag Jason from his waffle to you, over at your table, sitting with your siblings. She felt like she was living in one of those sitcoms that her dad just got cast in, watching you two exchange longing glances from across the dining pavilion without the other one noticing. 

You had told Piper about your crush on Jason months ago after you practically tripped over your own two feet to get away from him at the campfire when he tried to sit next to you and Piper. When Piper hit you with a “just talk to him, he literally sat next to us on purpose,” you almost choked on your own tongue trying to explain all of the reasons why the son of Jupiter could never like you like that. 

You knew of Jason Grace, but you didn’t know Jason Grace. He was one of the seven demigods who defeated Gaea, not to mention that he used to be a praetor when he was at Camp Jupiter before the war. He still had that air about him now, even when he was just a camper here at Camp Half-Blood. His shoulders constantly squared, his posture always perfect, that little scar on his lip so rugged, his sky blue eyes gleaming with an inherent authority, like just his gaze demanded your attention and your obedience. It was obvious that his father was Jupiter, the air seemed to practically buzz whenever he was around, and it made your cheeks flush.

Jason had killed titans with his bare hands, or so you had heard. He apparently almost caused absolute chaos in New Rome when he tried to change the name of the Twelfth Legion to the First Legion when he was elected as Praetor. The stories of his quests were practically on level with Percy Jackson, saving the world every summer on the other side of the country, and you didn’t even know about it until the whole Jason and Percy switching debacle a summer or two ago.

But for right now, you were doing exactly what Piper saw, avoiding Jason’s gaze so that you could steal a few glances as you picked at the remains of your breakfast. Each time your eyes met, you practically jumped and averted your line of sight to look at anything else. Suddenly, your now soggy toast seemed to hold the secrets of the universe as you tried to stop the creeping flush that tried to spread across your cheeks. You couldn’t stop thinking about how Jason probably looked at you because of your own staring, that he somehow felt your gaze on his perfect, perfect—stupidly perfect face.

Piper could scream. She could, and maybe she actually would scream if this kept going the way it was. She waved at Leo from across the dining pavilion, a signal to meet her after breakfast. 

She had a plan.

-_-

The mid-afternoon sun was high in the sky, beating down on you as you sat on the ground, gulping water. Piper somehow managed to get your sparing block switched with Leo’s so that you could spar with her. She didn’t tell you that’s why, but that had to be the reason, surely there was no other reason. This did just so happen to be the block that Jason had, but you tried not to think too hard about that, or else you would have fallen flat on your ass the second that you and Piper started to spar with your wooden sword and dagger. 

Piper had exhausted you with endless maneuvering and different kinds of tactics that left you winded and already sore as you held on to your water bottle. You were on the sidelines now, with Piper on your left, watching the other pairs practice different moves and weapons. Three pairs usually went at a time; there were three circles sprayed in the grass, all encompassed by a larger oval. Each pair stayed in their circle, and bystanders weren’t allowed to cross into the oval for “insurance reasons” or whatever Mr. D had said. Right now, there were only two pairs, leaving one of the rings open.

Percy was standing on the other side and ran over to quickly claim the empty ring. He stretched his hand up high in the air, looking off to the side for a specific someone to join him to spar. When you saw that Jason was the one he was waving over, your breath caught in your throat. 

When the others saw that Jason was the one that Percy had waved over, they let out a series of sighs and grumbles, and maybe a few people let out excited murmurs. Whenever Percy and Jason sparred, it always turned into an… event, to say the least, which is why the pairs in the other two rings quickly finished as Jason made his way into the circle with Percy. Their sparring sessions had a reputation for getting out of hand; people always said it was a combination of Percy’s ability to function off of pure spite and Jason’s inability to let himself lose. To say that the two boys had a competitive streak was the understatement of the century.

Before Chiron had to give them limitations to their rounds of sparring, they would exchange blows for upwards of an hour, taking up the entire oval that encompassed the three sparring rings with water splashing, wind blowing, and an occasional clap of thunder somewhere off in the distance whenever Percy got in a good hit. Their matches tended to end in draws, with other campers complaining about how they were taking too long and that others needed a turn.

You watched them as they started to spar, both with wooden swords. Your eyes were glued to Jason, unable to look away from his perfect posture or his sharp eyes. Percy was lunging forward, making the first move with his wooden sword pointed at Jason. As always, Jason’s shoulders were squared, and his face was steady when he dodged Percy’s skillful attempt at him. The only indicator of any physical effort was how his glasses slid down his nose just a bit and how that scar on his lip stretched as his breathing got a bit heavier. That’s how it usually was; no matter how long Jason spent at Camp Half-Blood, his years of Roman training were always blatantly obvious. He was the poster child of restraint, barely even grimacing as Percy threw snarky remarks at him that you couldn’t quite hear.

They went on like that for around twenty minutes, mist started to gather around Percy’s feet, and wind seemed to start picking up around Jason, blowing around not only the hair of the two boys, but also your own. There was that faint buzz in the air that seemed to appear whenever Jason had that look in his eyes. They exchanged blow after blow, neither of them appearing to be slowing down anytime soon. That was, until Jason somehow made eye contact with you from across the field.

-_-

Jason was freaking out. He knew that he shouldn’t have been freaking out, but that wasn’t helping him at the moment as he jumped out of the way of Percy’s wooden sword. 

He needed this sparring match to go well. No, scratch that, he needed it to go better than well, he needed this to go perfectly. This couldn’t be one of those days where he and Percy hit their forty-five-minute sparring limit and had to end in a draw. No, no, he needed to beat Percy, preferably while you were still watching him. Jason had a plan; in his mind, it was a brilliant plan. He was going to win this match and then walk up to you while he was still basking in the glorious win over Percy and ask if you wanted to sit next to him during the campfire tonight. 

You would have to say yes, especially because he would have beaten Percy already. You would say yes, right? Jason knew that he was out of his depth here, he truly had no idea what to do, and that scared him. He was always supposed to know what to do, always supposed to have a next step or a plan B. But whenever he thought about you, his brain short-circuited, all of his functioning brain cells died violent deaths, and his heart just about stopped. You had to say yes. Jason didn’t know any other way to go about this, in all honesty.

When he had gone to Piper in a frenzy, pacing anxiously around the Aphrodite cabin, trying to explain these feelings that he had in his chest whenever he looked at you, Piper literally laughed at him. She had gone, “Jason, that’s either indigestion, or you have a crush on her, maybe it’s both?” Then, when Jason had run his hands over his face and groaned in frustration because why was Piper always so right? She suggested throwing a match with Percy, purposely losing, because she somehow had a vibe (whatever that meant) that you were a teensy bit intimidated by Jason. That it would make him seem less… “Praetor-y.”

Frankly, Jason had never heard anything so ridiculous in his life. He understood why some people would be intimidated by him; some of the legionaries back at Camp Jupiter still gave him that look when he would visit, remembering how he had killed Krios, how that had made him Praetor. But you had never seen that side of him before; you had no reason to be intimidated by Jason, or so he thought. Wouldn’t losing a match against Percy make him look bad? Sure, he had absolutely no idea about how he should ask you out, but that was the last thing he wanted to do right now: look bad, or even worse, weak in front of you. 

And, it was going pretty well, Percy hadn’t managed to land a single hit on Jason. He was going to tire Percy out until he became just a little bit more sloppy, then that would guarantee his win, and that would mean that you would say yes—

You. Jason had managed to dodge another one of Percy’s swings, and the first thing his eyes latched onto was you. Of course, it was you. The gods had a cruel sense of humor sometimes. 

Was there a god of making eye contact with the wrong person at the worst time imaginable? 

If there was, Jason was sure that he had done something to piss them off because why did you have to look at him like that. Like he was holding up the sky, like he was holding up the sky for you. Gods know that he would, though he’s barely even had one full conversation with you, and he would switch places with Atlas in a heartbeat for you. The way that the wind was whipping your hair around your face, how it stuck to the thin, gleaming layer of sweat on your skin—Jason couldn’t help but stare. He really couldn’t help it, that and the way his breath caught in his throat, he couldn’t help it. You might as well have been glowing.

That was his first mistake—although Piper would later claim that it was his fourth—letting himself lock eyes with you for a millisecond too long. Percy undoubtedly saw that Jason was distracted, which was a rare sight in and of itself, and used it to his advantage. He swung his wooden sword at Jason while he was too busy looking at you like some sort of lovesick puppy.

Jason stumbled for the first time in the twenty minutes that they had been sparring, and he cursed under his breath, calling Percy a donkey in Latin. The grunted “asinus,” barely audible over the sound of the wind whipping around his head, filling his ears with the hollow sound of his own loss of self-control. He couldn’t help that either, he was going to look bad in front of you. 

Jason needed to gain control of this match quickly, he knew that, he really did, but he couldn’t stop looking over Percy’s shoulder to try and steal another glance at you. The already loosened grasp that Jason had on his composure was rapidly slipping as he tried to do too many things at once—make sure that Percy didn’t manage to pin him down, think of a quick strategy to somehow win this match, steal a few more quick looks at you, all while trying to stay composed enough so he didn’t look like a complete idiot in front of the entire camp. 

A distant crack of thunder made it unfortunately obvious that Jason was not doing a good job at multitasking at the moment. But then again, maybe he was, because now he had a strategy that he could focus on instead of how your eyes were watching his every move. It was simple, something that he’s done too many times to count in battles that were much more stressful than this. His feet slid in the grass, the dirt having turned into mud. Percy. The mist that was gathered around his feet had soaked the ground, turning the once solid sparring ring into mushy mud that made Jason’s feet unsteady.

Jason leaned to the left as Percy brought his wooden sword towards him, successfully dodging the swing. Jason continued to move, a fluid motion as his composure returned now that he had something besides you to focus on. He lunged at Percy, finally landing a blow to the top of his arm, right below his shoulder, knocking Percy off balance just enough for Jason to get back on level footing with him. 

He did his absolute best to focus on the grin that Percy was giving him instead of the wide-eyed look that you were giving Jason over Percy’s shoulder. Jason was trying so hard to stay concentrated on the way that Percy’s feet were shifting in the mud, like he was about to lunge at Jason again. His eyes darted from Percy to you, back and forth so many times that it almost made him dizzy.

Stop that, she’s watching.

The more that Jason tried to concentrate on the sparring match—the dodging, the swinging, the not slipping in mud—the more he tried to look for you. He wanted to see your face, see what you thought about him. His body was on autopilot, dodging and swinging and blocking without a second thought. The familiarity of his movements allowed him to divert just a sliver of his focus to you, looking for your face among the other campers watching. 

It was a splash of water on the back of Jason’s head as he swung his wooden sword at Percy’s leg that forced him to concentrate, really concentrate. Chiron had made a rule for Jason and Percy when they were sparring: no godly given abilities. No water, no lightning, no wind, no storms, nothing. Jason always tried to follow those rules, he really did, but when Percy decided to disregard Chiron’s rules, Jason was usually left with no choice but to follow suit if he wanted to win. 

Maybe I could manage to focus enough to get a gust of wind to knock Percy off balance? Or maybe even enough to knock him over? 

Another spin around the ring and a bout of eye contact with you derailed his train of thought.

Focus, focus, focus—

Another block.

One more swing.

Maybe a little too much static gathering on the tips of Jason’s fingers—

Two more seconds of his eyes looking for yours.

Focus, focus, breathe—

A quick lean to the left.

He didn’t even notice the buzz in the air, how the hair on his arm started to stand up just enough to mean something, but he was too worried about you watching him to realize what it meant. 

Maybe sweep out Percy’s feet? No, too much mud for that—

A clap of thunder somewhere behind him.

Half a spin to duck out of the way of Percy.

Three more seconds of brief eye contact with you as he blocked with his sword.

A swing of Jason’s sword into Percy’s.

Tiny sparks snapped across his fingers, up his arm.

Negligible.

Jason’s heart was beating so hard he thought it would beat out of his chest. This match essentially had no stakes, no one here was going to die if he lost, no one was going to try to end the world if Jason missed the next swing of his wooden sword. 

But she was watching. 

Jason needed you to see him win so that you would say yes, and then he would get to sit next to you at the campfire and then—

Then, he made eye contact with you again. 

And it looked like you were… blushing? 

Why is she blushing? Did I do something weird? I’m holding my sword the right way, I always do, so it’s not that—

The electricity snapping along Jason’s arms was audible now, the sharp crackling breaking through the thought-spiral he was constructing in his head.

Shit, shit, shit, that has to stop, shit, shit—

Jason could feel himself spinning out, like a spinning top that was losing its speed and was about to fall over and roll away. Percy hit the inside of his knee, and Jason lost his balance. 

One last glance at you before he fell into the mud. One barely audible curse in Latin before all of his dignity left his body, before he accepted his fate of being forever alone, never even able to sit next to you at the campfire. 

One last glance at you before that buzzing in the air and that static dancing across his fingers became a problem. One last glance before that iron grip Jason had on his self-restraint crumbled to dust. One last glance before there was a crack, and there was a patch of burnt grass less than ten feet in front of you.

Jason’s entire face went hot, and he didn’t get up from the mud. He couldn’t get up from the mud, he was going to die here. He was going to pray to Hades that the earth swallow him whole right now. He was going to die of embarrassment before he even made it back to Cabin 1. Jason didn’t even flinch when Percy held the tip of his wooden sword at Jason’s neck to show that he had won. Jason didn’t even raise an eyebrow at Percy when he told the son of Jupiter that he just fried the training grounds like an overcooked fish stick. He was going to let himself grow old and die in this patch of mud. He could practically hear Piper stare at him from across the field. 

That was not how this was supposed to go.

He waited a minute before he turned his head to the side, to see just how horribly he had messed up, but you weren’t even there anymore. Jason let himself sink further into the mud with a sigh that Reyna would have called “pitiful.”

-_-

You didn’t mean to run back to your cabin after almost being hit by lightning, but you needed a nap after that. Maybe a cold shower, too. 

It didn’t really scare you, per se, you had been a summer camper at Camp Half-Blood since you were little, so you were used to having multiple near-death encounters every summer. But it was a little unnerving that your mega-crush had just accidentally sent a bolt of lightning right at you as he lost his sparring match. 

It was obviously an accident, anyone with eyes could tell. Honestly, today was probably going to go down in history as the day that the Jason Grace, son of Jupiter, ex-Praetor of Camp Jupiter, champion of Juno, lost his composure during a sparring match. You didn’t really know why he started sparking like an electric candle lighter, but the fact that he looked right at you when it happened only fed into your delusional fantasy that he might like you back.

As a reward for not melting into a puddle from all of the eye contact that Jason made with you during his match with Percy, you flopped onto your bed. You nuzzled into your pillow, not even bothering to get under the covers in your training clothes. It was gross, but you wanted to fit in this nap before anyone noticed you were gone. 

You drifted off without much trouble, the smell of ozone still fresh in your nose.

-_-

“Get up! I need you to help me with something,” was the first thing that you heard as Piper shook you awake from your nap. 

“Wha—“ your voice was still a bit raspy from your nap, and you had to blink the sleep out of your eyes as Piper practically dragged you upright.

“Wipe your face off, you drooled all over,” Piper was already going through your desk. You didn’t really mind, that was just how being friends with Piper worked. She barged into your cabin and went through your things sometimes, and in exchange, you got one of the best friends you could have ever asked for at camp. You ran your hand over your cheek, effectively getting rid of the dried trail of drool Piper had so gracefully pointed out.

“Oh!” She tossed two tubes at you from your desk, “Put these on before you come and help me.”

Looking down at the two tubes in your hand, you quickly realized that one was mascara and the other was lip gloss.

“Do I really need this, Piper? What do you even need help with?”

“Just trust me! Put it on and then follow me, I need your help!”

You weren’t sure if she was using her charmspeak or not, but regardless, you reluctantly got up from your oh-so-cozy bed and swiped on your mascara and lip gloss. It felt silly to do this now, right before the campfire, where no one would even be able to see your face in the dark. But you let Piper win this one.

“Care to mention what I’m going to be helping you with?” You slipped on your shoes and followed Piper out of your cabin.

“No, not really,” she responded to you, head over her shoulder, tone a bit too matter-of-fact. You pressed your lips together into a tight line and huffed out a breath through your nose in defeat.

Piper led you all the way to her cabin, the Aphrodite Cabin, and right to where her bed was, stopping in front of her closet. 

You looked around, not noticing anything out of the ordinary.

“Are you going to tell me now?”

“Yeah, yeah—just look in there for me, do you see that?” Piper reached across you, opening the closet door. The slotted French doors folded open, revealing the clothes and shoes that you had come to know as Piper’s. She pointed to something in the far corner of the closet, but it was too far, too dark to see anything there.

“What are you talking about?” You took a step closer to the closet, leaning in just a little bit to try to get a better look.

“Right there—you’ll see it better if you get a little closer,” Piper insisted, pointing her finger at the corner again, “trust me, you’ll know when you see it. Yeah, see, right there!”

You looked behind you at Piper, making a face as if to ask “literally what the fuck are you talking about?” There was nothing. Piper just shrugged at you and pointed again, telling you to look closer. 

“Piper, I don’t see anything,” you complained, stepping closer to the closet. You might as well have been stepping into it now. You even leaned in, trying to get a better angle to see the corner of the closet, “What are you talking abou—“

That’s when Piper pushed you into her closet.

“I’m so sorry about this,” Piper mumbled as she shut the doors.

“Dude—Piper—what are you doing?” You tried your best to push the doors back open, but there was an audible click.

She locked me in her closet?!?

“Trust me, I promise you’ll be thanking me later!”

“Piper, you just locked me in your closet! There isn’t even a light in here!”

“Give it five minutes, and then you’ll be happy that I locked you in my closet!”

You threw up your hands in disbelief because literally what?

It was dark, and the slots from the French doors didn’t let in much light. The closet really wasn’t that big either. You were standing between Piper’s tank tops, and your feet were on top of a pair of boots.

“This better be good, Piper.”

-_-

Jason was face down in his bed. He was sulking. He was rarely allowed to sulk back at Camp Jupiter, there was too much to do. Because of that, he never got used to sulking. But now, at Camp Half-Blood, there was time to sulk, so that’s what he was doing. Jason Grace, son of Jupiter, ex-Praetor of Camp Jupiter, the champion of Juno, was sulking face down in his bed. With a pillow over his head to muffle the sounds of his own breathing and the sounds of the outside world that leaked in through the cracks in the marble of Cabin 1. 

To say that Jason was embarrassed would do the blood pooling in his cheeks a disservice, it would be an insult to his teeth that he clenched just to say that Jason was embarrassed. 

Jason was mortified. 

He had finally figured out how to ask you out, finally—and then he almost fried you like a vendor at a county carnival would do to an Oreo! Jason was never going to leave Cabin 1. 

I am never leaving, I’m going to rot here, never going to see the light of day ever again, never, ever, I am one with my mattress, never going to—

“Hey, Big J!”

Jason just grunted into his covers in response as Leo interrupted the downward trajectory of his inner monologue.

“Why do you look worse than that time Piper had to charmspeak you back to life?”

Jason rolled over on his bed, flopping his arms dramatically. 

“Leo, I almost fried her. She definitely hates me now.”

“Dude, you’re not looking at the bigger picture.”

Jason lifted his head from his bed to look at Leo, raising an eyebrow at him, almost willing him to continue and explain this “bigger picture.”

“You didn’t almost fry just her, you almost fried like, ten other campers that were standing there! So don’t worry about singling her out.”

Jason groaned and put the pillow over his face, blocking out the light.

“You’re not helping me right now, Leo.” Jason’s voice was muffled by the pillow.

“What?” Leo asked in a voice that was probably two octaves higher than his usual voice, “J Man, it’ll be fine. And anyway, Piper needs your help with something.”

Jason lifted the pillow from his head and sat up. Anything to not think about how horribly that had just gone.

“She needs someone who can reach all the way up in her closet to change the light bulb or something,” Leo made a strange face, but the overwhelming need to be useful was overpowering Jason’s better judgment, and he stood up from his bed. 

“Yeah, I can definitely do that,” Jason ran his hands over his face and through his hair. He didn’t really care that it stuck up, making it look like he was the one who almost got fried.

“Alright,” Leo smiled, it was small and impish. It made Jason do a double-take. “Come on, Sparky, to the Aphrodite Cabin!”

Leo walked out of Cabin 1 with a little too much pep in his step. Jason followed anyway. 

-_-

Jason really didn’t think that Piper would have been able to shove him that hard into her closet, but here he was, face-planting into her graphic t-shirts. And he was stepping on shoes, probably Piper’s shoes, except—except they were your shoes.

Jason’s brain couldn’t keep up with what his eyes were seeing as he adjusted to the dim lighting in Piper’s closet. He heard the door lock, though. It was a clicking noise, followed by some mumbling from Leo about how he had “reinforced the locks” and then some metal clanking.

He could see you now, the light coming through the slats of the closet doors in thin lines on your face, outlining all of the high points of your face. Jason couldn’t help but stare. Again.

You didn’t know what to do. Piper’s grand idea was to lock you in her closet with Jason Grace? You simply stared at the now locked closet doors, then at Jason, and back to the doors. 

“Have fun in there, you two!” Piper said from the other side of the French doors, “We won’t be back until after the campfire—“

“Yeah, so make yourselves busy!” Leo interrupted, and the two of you could hear Piper tell him to shut up from inside the closet. The two of you flushed at the implications.

“—So figure out whatever it is you two have going on before we get back,” Piper continued, “come on, Leo.”

“Hey—don’t grab me so hard!”

Their footsteps and bickering faded away, and you were left locked in Piper’s closet with Jason Grace.

Even in this lighting, while he was struggling to speak coherently, the poised and proper son of Jupiter, now stuttering, was looking almost too good. The flush on his cheeks gave him an adorable boyish look on his usually commanding, stony face.

“Uh—hey… uhm—“ Jason sputtered, his face getting warmer than he would have liked it to be, “I—I’m really sorry about earlier, it was a total accident! I wasn’t even aiming for you, I just couldn’t stop looking at you—er, I mean, I just—“

“Well—you know, I just—it’s okay…” You spoke quietly, afraid that if you spoke any louder, your voice would crack from the nerves. 

He couldn’t stop looking at me.

You and Jason stood in Piper’s closet in an awkward silence. Every time you bumped your elbow into one of her sweaters, it shocked you. You didn’t say anything else, too scared to somehow embarrass yourself in front of Jason. He was just too perfect. The two of you stood there, cramped by hangers and boots, too nervous to speak further. 

“Really?” Jason finally found his words, a bit surprised that you said it was okay that he almost electrocuted you, his voice was probably a little bit too high, “but I—I almost got you—“

“Yeah,” you interrupted him, half expecting Jason to just keep talking because he seemed like when he had an idea, he finished it, but he paused when he heard your voice. Your heart wasn’t threatening to beat out of your chest like it had that one time Jason had tried to sit next to you and Piper at the campfire. He seemed less… formal. Softer, even. It made your cheeks blush. 

He wants to listen to me.

“I mean, you didn’t ‘get me’ and besides, I practically almost die every summer here anyway. Trust me when I say that I’ve come a lot closer to getting killed at camp than almost getting struck by lightning.”

Jason let out an awkward laugh. It was like someone was squeezing his lungs in a vice and squeezing out the pathetic sound the same way you squeeze out toothpaste from an almost empty tube. 

That sounded like a duck, he thought to himself. Jason wanted to shrink down to be small enough to climb through the minuscule slats in the closet door. I bet she thinks that I sounded like a duck just now—

“So you don’t… You don’t despise me for almost—almost electrocuting you?” Jason’s voice was small, almost timid, as he asked you. He was scared, scared that you would say that you were afraid of him, that you didn’t want to be so close to him.

“Oh gods, no! I didn’t—I don’t despise you,” the idea of despising Jason for anything made you almost laugh, but you were too nervous to laugh right now. He sounded too vulnerable, almost… imperfect. “I’m not upset at you for that.”

Jason did his best to search your face in the dark, using the tiny lines of light that filtered in through the closet door, looking for any signs that you weren’t telling the truth. A wrinkle on your forehead, lines on the outside corners of your eyes, a slight tilt to the corner of your lips. 

He couldn’t find any of those on your face, he couldn’t find any indicator that you were lying to him. You really didn’t hate him for what he did during the sparring match with Percy today. Jason had never been so shocked and so relieved at the same time before. He let his eyes travel back down to your lips. 

A mistake.

Jason should not have looked at your lips. They were perfect, and they were glossy. Jason didn’t know how you made them look like that, and when he thought about it too hard, he blushed. This was a bad, bad, bad idea because now that’s all he could look at. All he could focus on now was your lips. All of those years of perfecting his willpower, of chiseling his impeccable composure to be exactly what it needed to be, a perfect mask of marble, wasted. Utterly wasted because you were right in front of him.

The face that Jason was making, brows furrowed, bright blue eyes wide, lips parted just enough to see the glint of his teeth, the scar above his lip catching a bit of the light that filtered in through the doors, and that blush that crept up his neck all the way up to his ears, it all made you weak in the knees. He was looking at you, his eyes boring into your face, drinking up every detail outlined by the thin rays of artificial light that streamed in through the slats of the doors. 

This was real, the way that he was looking at you. Almost too real, you had to remind yourself that you were less than a foot away from each other in Piper’s closet, not some dreamland. That the two of you were stuffed uncomfortably between clothing hangers, shoes, and random sweaters that had fallen on the floor. But you two were so close. That strange, irrational fear you had of the Jason Grace seemed to fall away. He was just a boy, after all. Maybe Piper was right… You wouldn’t tell her that, though. 

“I just—I never do that,” Jason admitted, sounding a bit dazed, still looking at your lips. There was a faint buzzing in the air. Not quite like the buzzing from earlier, not the buzz before a lightning strike. No, this was more mundane, more homely. This sounded like the buzz of a light bulb right before it’s about to blow out, more of a hum, really. 

“That’s alright,” you whispered, feeling a matching flush creep up your neck and make its way to your ears. Your voice was quiet enough that Jason leaned in a bit more so that he could hear you. The humming noise was louder as he got closer to you. That buzz, the humming noise, was coming from Jason. 

You looked up at his face, wide eyes meeting wide eyes. Your hands moved first. They didn’t even have to move that far; the closet was small. A few inches of movement,” and your hands were on his chest. You could hear his breath hitch in his throat, like he was about to jerk away. But he didn’t. Jason just leaned in a bit closer, his hands hesitantly finding their way around you, to your sides. You could feel his breath on your skin. 

“Are you okay if—is it alright if I—“ Jason’s brain was melting out of his ears, and his tongue felt useless, “can I please kiss you?”

The tip of his broad Roman nose brushed against yours as you nodded your head. The Jason Grace was about to kiss you. Your heart was fluttering, and your stomach might as well have been doing parkour. He was so close to you. Jason still smelled like ozone, and you both ignored the humming.

Jason’s eyes flickered from your lips to your eyes and then back to your lips. He moved in to close the gap between the two of you. He could taste the lip gloss you were wearing, but he barely noticed. Jason didn’t even know what planet he was on anymore. You could have told him that he was on the moon for all he cared, as long as this moment never ended. 

His hands traveled slowly up your body, grazing along your t-shirt as his hands found their very natural position on either side of your head, holding it closer to his. You never wanted this moment to end, but unfortunately, your lungs decided that the moment was over. You had to pull your head back just a little bit, enough to suck in a quick breath. 

You could see Jason’s eyes, they were almost entirely black, that sky blue nearly engulfed by his pupils. Both of you were breathing heavily, but that pull was still there. The ever-present, almost magnetic pull that made you reach back up to Jason, connecting your lips for another kiss. It was addicting, filling your brain with fizz, like someone had carbonated your blood.

When your lips were about to meet for a second time, right before they touched, not even millimeters apart, there was a snap, and you pulled away. It felt like you had gotten one of the worst static shocks of your life, but it was from Jason.

“I’m so sorry—I have no idea what’s happening to me—“ he stuttered, his face going even redder. His glasses were crooked now, skewed a bit to the left.

You cut him off with a giggle, because how was this real?

“It’s alright,” you told him, moving your head to the side. You planted a kiss of reassurance on his cheek, leaving a sticky outline of your lips with lip gloss. 

Never in a million years would you have thought that you would be the one to reassure Jason in any scenario. But here you were, hands on his shoulders, smiling at the boy you had thought was almost a god himself, telling him that it was okay that he accidentally gave you a static shock while trying to kiss him.

-_-

Piper and Leo eventually returned to the Aphrodite Cabin after the campfire to let the two of you out of her closet. They were very pleasantly surprised when Leo undid the overcomplicated lock he installed and found that the two of you had, in fact, “made yourselves busy.” The lip gloss stains on Jason’s lips and cheeks were more than enough to tell Piper that you ended up happy after she locked you in her closet. 

Maybe Piper should play matchmaker more often?

tags - @jjsblueberry @somewhereincairparavel

(i know that i don't have an official tag list, i just know that i told you guys that i would tag the two of you when i posted this haha)

Masterlist

[pokemon-ash-aus]

Some more Redesigns!! These were on my own and were very fun to do! I took longer cause i got Tired XD

And Recovering but semantics

Anyways! Pokemkn and the Person who requested :D

Flamigo - @phlurrii

Luxray - @blues-sues

Bewear - @sleebyxd

Diggersby - @lotusmew

Grookey - @penumbramewtwos

Incineroar - @vanilla-waffles / Blues-sues

Theivul - (I put it down and a lot of peeps agreed)

Gothitelle - @morninggloryskye sup bb

Quilladin - @cozykomala

Bisharp - Me! (Might use this deseign for Dead AU cause Bisharp is a bitch for me to draw XD)

[littlelovelunette]

hey, what about an angst/fluff ex lovers to lovers with vi, like it was a looong relationship, but circumstances made them break up, so when reader goes to vi's place to pick up her things, reader also return the promise ring vi gave to her, but vi ask for a second chance, and i mean, who can refuse? its vi

btw, love your work, hope ur okay! 🩷

Happenstance

"It's been nine months we've been together and now you just want to break things off!?" Your eyes were teary, you were angry but you were also sad.

The building emotions caused a storm inside you, you were breaking on the inside but you couldn't let that show. You couldn't let this breakup tear you apart.

"It's just not working, I'm sorry, I really am," Vi said, looking away as she tried to avert her gaze from you but the tears in her eyes told you a different story.

"I can't believe you," you walked out of the door, abandoning all your belongings in Vi's place, all the memories you shared with her. Dancing in the kitchen while you made waffles together. Sitting by the window while the rain splattered on the glass, sharing stories of the past.

All gone, all broken.

All snatched from you.

You didn't know how far you had gotten from Vi, but wherever you were you didn't recognise the neighbourhood. With a small groan, you reached for your phone in your back pocket, calling your sister.

"Hey, Amber... mind if I crash at yours for the night?" You asked, trying to steady your breathing so it didn't seem like you'd been sobbing your heart out.

"Yeah, sure... Have you been crying?" Amber asked, you could hear the car keys jingling on the other side.

"I-It's a long story," was all you could manage, wiping your tears on your sleeve.

"I guess I'll, yeah— I'll pick you up, send me your address and I'll come,"

"Thanks,"

The next day was a blur, you ringed Vi up with the generic "I'll pick my things up at 8," talk but you could've sworn her voice sounded hoarse like she'd been drowning herself in alcohol and her own tears.

But she couldn't have, right? You knew Vi, she was prideful to the point her ego shot right through the troposphere of the planet, she couldn't have.

Thanks to the terrible traffic, you were thirty minutes late to Vi's house. When you turned the doorknob, you realised that the door was already open.

Who leaves their door unlocked? It's like a silent beggery for robbery.

"Vi?" You called but there was no answer to your voice, only a small sniffle that schoed from the room you once shared with the tatted woman.

A small sigh escaped you and you walked to the room, opening the door with quite a loud creak, you peeked inside.

There she was.

Curled up on the floor, hugging a photo frame you both got for your third month anniversary, the carpet soaked with her tears and an empty bottle of God-knows-what brand of alcohol.

"Vi," you walked upto her, fidgeting with the ring she'd given you once promising the eternity of the relationship she had broken due to unavoidable circumstances yesterday.

"You don't get to do this to me," you said slowly slipping the ring off, "You don't get to break up with me and then play victim."

"Oh, sweet baby, I'm so- hic- sorry," Vi looked up, eyes bloodshot and droopy, her blue eyes dulled with the pain of something you couldn't quite register.

"Vi, we can't," you put the ring on the desk, leaning to pick the handle of your suitcase up, "You have to let me go," you attempted to pull at the suitcase but Vi latched onto it like a crazy ex-girlfriend.

Vi let out a broken laugh, one that cracked at the edges, her grip on the suitcase handle tightening as if it were the only thing tethering her to reality.

"No, no, no, please—" she slurred, her voice barely above a whisper yet filled with so much raw desperation that it made your chest tighten. "I—hic—I didn't mean it, baby. I swear, I didn't."

She tried to push herself up but stumbled, landing back on her knees with a pathetic whimper. Tears streamed down her flushed cheeks as she clutched at your sleeve instead, her fingers trembling.

"I love you," she mumbled, burying her face into your arm, her breath reeking of alcohol. "Please, don’t leave me. I—I'll fix it, I'll fix everything. Just—just don’t walk out that door."

"I can't—" her voice cracked, "I can't do this without you. I don't wanna do this without you. Please, please, please, baby, I—I'm sorry."

Her grip loosened just enough for you to step back, but the moment you did, she let out a strangled sob, reaching for you again, her nails digging into the carpet.

"I'll change," she gasped, forehead pressing against the floor. "I'll do anything, just—" a hiccup interrupted her words again, "Just say you’ll stay. Just say you still love me."

"I'm too sober for this," you mumbled before kneeling down to her, hugging her, "I still love you," you mumbled.

"I love you too, please, don't leave," Vi squeezed you tightly for a second.

You heaved a sigh, just when you were about to get your life together after the breakup, Vi wanted to get back together.

You didn't know what would happen after the alcohol wore off but you were tired too, shifting to get comfortable on the floor.

"Have any more of those?"

[a-new-romantic]

lucky charm ♡ (hogwarts!au azriel x reader)

a/n: this is entirely inspired by those "xxx quidditch entrance song" tiktoks. i have no other excuse, but i hope you like it! (and if you hate it, don't read it!)

summary: ravenclaw!azriel plays against the slytherin quidditch team. you're his good luck charm.

"please", Rhysand, muttered as he caught up to you and Feyre going to breakfast. "Ravenclaw is NOT going to win," he said - pointedly staring at your blue and bronze robes.

"Yeah," Feyre agreed, her green tie seeming brighter than ever. "We're going to win, cause our team has us on it." she said, grinning slyly at you all entered the great hall.

"We'll see..." you sung to your friends, rolling your eyes as you got up from the table, heading over to the Ravenclaw table.

"Hey Luc!" you say, spotting your friend eating in what looked like a fit of nerves. "Ready for the game, keeper?" you asked, patting him on the back as you took a seat next to him - your favorite food appearing in front of you.

"Honestly? No," he said, "Rhysand is a damn good chaser and Feyre is the best seeker we've seen in a while," he said.

"And you're the best keeper we've had in centuries! Don't even worry Lucien, you're going to do great. I have full faith that Ravenclaw will win." you said, despite not being 100% certain yourself. He was right, Feyre and Rhysand (and the rest of Slytherin) were damn good.

"Sure, sure. You only say that cause Azriel is on Ravenclaw too." he said, wiggling his eyebrows at you with a teasing tone. It seemed the whole school knew of your budding relationship with your teams star beater.

"Whatever, don't you have to practice or something?" you said around a bite of waffles. His eye widened as he glanced up at the clock before shoveling the rest of his eggs into his mouth. He gave you a quick wave goodbye before grabbing his broom and running out of the hall.

You grinned and finished up your breakfast, heading back to your dorm to get ready for the big game.

----- ♡

The crowd roared around you as you climbed up to the highest seat you could get at the game. The wing whipped your hair around, as the blue and bronze scarf around your neck kept you warm.

"Nice makeup (Y/n)!" someone yelled out at you, as you gave them a grateful smile. You worked hard on it, blue and bronze surrounding your eyes, with Azriel's jersey number on your cheek as a last minute show of support.

Before you knew it, the opposing crowd started roaring, the Slytherin entrance song starting to play.

"everybody wants to rule the world.."

The song echoed throughout the stadium, green and sliver smoke filling the field. Silhouettes of the players started appearing to the left of the field, Rhys and Feyre's outlines clear as they appeared out of the smoke.

The beat dropped and the entire Slytherin team got on their brooms, flying to the middle of the field. Rhysand pumped his fist into the air, triggering a cascade of screams down the Slytherin side of the field. As the beat built up, the players got higher and higher. Suddenly, the music stopped and they all dropped down to eye level - getting into position for the game.

"Honestly? A 10/10 entrance." your friend piped up next to you. You couldn't help but agree.

The crowd started to die down from that amazing entrance: people talking to their friends and chit chatting, the Slytherin team talking strategy.

Suddenly, you hear faint whistles and clacks echoing through the stadium. The crowd went silent in anticipation of the incoming entrance by the Ravenclaw.

Then, the drums started resounding throughout the stadium - going directly through everyone and vibrating through their cores. You grinned, knowing that Az had taken your song suggestion for their entrance tonight. The drums ended with a flourish, blue and bronze confetti erupting throughout the stadium.

"all the birds of a feather.."

The Ravenclaw players entered through the confetti, flying in circles around the stadium - looking like blurs of blue just zooming past everyone. The beat ended and the players exited the circle one by one, flipping in the air before landing in place.

Azriel, unlike Rhysand didn't hype up the crowd at all. He didn't need to. At the sight of him, the entire crowd erupted.

He didn't care, he was looking directly at you. You flushed under his gaze, giving him a quick thumbs up as a show of support. He smiled gratefully before turning to roll his eyes at his brother on the opposing side.

Once the players were in position, the game began.

----- ♡

The game was neck and neck for the most part, with Azriel or Lucien blocking most of Rhysand's advances. Nevertheless, Slytherin was in the lead.

Your focus stayed on Azriel for the most part, tracking him as he shot across the field. He was completely in his element, and you were in nothing short of awe.

He could feel your stare as he played the game, loving you and loving the attention. Forgive him if he flexed a little harder, and showed off a little more during the game. He had a pretty person to impress after all.

Despite your attention attuned on Azriel, your gaze flickered away as you watched the Ravenclaw seeker and Feyre suddenly dive to the ground, spotting the snitch. If the seeker caught the snitch, Ravenclaw could overcome the lead Slytherin had on them and win the game.

The whole stadium went quiet as everyone watched the two seekers twist around one another, up and down through the field as they chased after the snitch.

Suddenly, Feyre swerved out of the way as a bludger appeared in her line of flight. Your eyebrows furrowed as you glanced up at Azriel, who smirked - knowing his plan worked. He shot a bludger in Feyre's direction (not intending to hurt her) to throw her off her path.

He was successful! The Ravenclaw seeker sped up and caught the snitch, flying up and thrusting her hand up in the air in victory. The half of the field you were on erupted in cheer as bronze and blue confetti erupted once again.

You cheered alongside everyone, joy overtaking everyone's face. You took the time to study Azriel's face, as he high fived and celebrated with his teammates. Then, he turned to face you - flying towards you.

"All because of my lucky charm, huh?" he said, as he leaned forward on his broom so his lips could meet you own. You smiled into the kiss, shaking your head while laughing.

He didn't need a lucky charm, but you were glad to be his lucky charm any day.

[thebramblewood]

Julia Zhao in The Mystery of the Time-Traveling Thief, 5/6

Julia, in voiceover: You’ll never guess what Emit asked me to do next, when he finally moseyed his blue little ass back to Copperdale, that is.

Julia: You want me to build a time machine?

Emit: Just one small component of a time machine… for now.

Julia: But I’m only a teenage girl! I like fashion! I make vlogs! I’m not an engineer. Fuck you, Relevart!

Emit: The fate of mankind may rest in your hands, Julia!

Julia, in voiceover: Luckily, my dad is an engineer, and he agreed to teach me a few tricks of the trade, even if he still didn’t fully believe in the cause.

Though I’m not sure what fixing broken plumbing has to do with building a time machine. I think he was just exploiting my free labor at that point.

At any rate, I was being kept busy. Emit had given me a whole list of rare minerals to acquire and indecipherable scientific texts to read. I couldn’t help but wonder if he even knew what he was doing. Was this all just pointless busy work? If everything turned out to be fake, what was his real end game?

Finally, the component was built. All that was left was to activate it and, BAM, instant blue screen of death. The mission felt doomed.

Rose: Honey, at this point, maybe you should just cut your losses. Can this man even be trusted?

Julia: No way, Mom! Not even your delicious berry waffles will convince me to give up! Please tell me it’s fixable, Dad.

[strawberrynightmare]

Mikey, Mitsuya, Koko & Izana with foodie s/o

Content warning: Just Izana being a little bit... extreme

Koko

~It all started when he took you birthday shopping. The two of you went to a mall and he told you to take anything you want and not look at the price, to which you hesitantly agreed. He expected to be dragged into a clothing or electronics shop. Whatever you wanted; jackets, shoes, bags, perfumes, headphones, games, or maybe, once you get more confident, a phone, tablet, laptop? Or even a tv?

~He got so lost in his fantasies it took him a few minutes to comprehend your current whereabouts. 

~...A grocery store.

~Well, that’s fine. It’s completely reasonable that you’d want to do groceries. Duties first, pleasures second. Although he had to assure you that he’s more than happy to pay for your overflowing shopping cart full of sweets, snacks, cheese and other stuff.  He didn’t let you carry everything yourself, either. He insisted he carries at least 3/4 of them.

~Then the two of you went to get pizza. For that, he paid without even asking. Of course, it wouldn’t be good to shop hungry. And then a sweet dessert - ice cream!

~And when he thought that this is where the actual shopping trip starts, you said that you were done and thanked him. He looked at you as if you were insane. Surely, you must have been joking. 

~But instead of saying “just kidding”, you asked him if there’s anywhere he wants to go. This man was so flabbergasted that he just shook his head and silently walked you home. 

~It didn’t take him long to accept his fate and change his strategy, though. 

~Instead of more “classic” gifts, he began to buy you food. And rather than to the shopping malls, he took you to some of the most recommended restaurants. Pretty chill about it too. Although only for as long as he gets to pay. He can get petty when you don’t let him. The two of you literally race to the checkpoint

~And no, you are not visiting McDonald's, KFC or such things. He’s willing to (respectfully) argue with you about that. Why would you even look at their trash-quality food, when he’s more than willing to pay for something healthier and tastier? *proceeds to wave his credit card in front of your face until you give up*

~If there’s a specific food you crave out of the blue, all you have to do is text him. He’ll order it for you. Hell, he’ll even order anything he sees advertised on the internet that he thought you might like, so don’t get surprised when you get random parcels delivered to your door.

~If you’re worried about your eating habits, he’ll suggest visiting a dietician and will even accompany you there. Won’t force you or stick his nose into your eating habits unless it’s clearly dangerous for your health, though. Most of the time he just supports every decision you make.

~Literally the definition of “Eat whatever you want, I can pay.”

Izana

~Okay this guy 100% loves to watch you eat. You can’t convince me otherwise. 

~Like, imagine you’re casually enjoying your waffles and he sits right in front of you, staring at you, drilling holes into your soul with his gaze. Like this ◉_◉. He doesn’t even order anything for himself no matter how many times you ask him if he’s sure that he’s not hungry. 

~Your boyfriend literally can get high on dopamine from watching you eat something you like. He doesn’t get bored. Each time the two of you meet, he just kinda gives you some kind of a snack and at this point, you don’t even question it, cause he’s gonna do it either way. The two of you start talking, he automatically extends his hand with a snack towards you and you automatically take it without missing a beat. 

~The moment you split your food in half and offered it to him, he was so moved. In his mind, he swore to protect you forever. I’ve seen memes about girlfriends saying they don’t want anything to eat and then eat their boyfriend’s food. Which kind of resembles him because he’ll only eat if it’s from your plate. Can’t get his own for his life. 

~I can clearly imagine a scenario where a gang fight occurs and all of the enemies get heavily beaten up except for that one guy who’s captured at the very beginning and then, at the end, they let him go with no more than a scratch, simply because he’s the son of the owner of your favourite sushi restaurant. 

~At the same time, imagine what happens to the people whose food you dislike. Without a blink, he’d watch you eat something, and instead of the usual bliss he sees on your face, you frown and begin to slow down before hesitantly putting down the eating utensils. He’d ask you if anything’s wrong and after you reply that this dish is not really to your liking, he’d just smile and offer that you eat somewhere else. Then, the next day, you heard in the news that the very same restaurant burned to ashes during the night. The cause of the fire was unknown. 

~Another time, he accidentally saw you out in the town with a friend. He just happened to be nearby and considered saying hello when he heard your friend complaining about you eating way too much. You didn’t seem to take it seriously, but a dark glint in his eyes appeared at that time.

~”I never had a problem with how much they eat…”

~Hopefully, you weren’t very close with that friend (._.)

~Lowkey the devil on your shoulder. He only means good, but he never really tells you no. If you’re thinking about whether to get something to eat, you don’t even have to look at him to know his advice. And if you can’t decide between two things, he’ll just get you both no big deal. Even if he’s aware that it might not be the best for you, it’s not like an additional portion of ice cream will harm you, right?

~He’ll even go as far as to rob a grocery store with his gang to get you a good supply of snacks. You might want to establish some boundaries with him. Just saying. 

~Overall, wants the best, but tends to take things to the extremes.

Mitsuya

~Say no more.

~Actually, he’d cook for you almost each time you come to visit him even before he learns about your fondness for good food. And when he does? You got yourself a personal chef and no amount of insisting and resisting will get you out of this. 

~Legit gets offended if you refuse to let him make you food and suggest eating in the town instead.  

“Haaa? You’d rather pay for some stranger’s stuff rather than eat what your boyfriend prepared for you with love?”

~And it doesn’t matter that you only have the best intentions in mind and you don’t want to overwork him. He’s having none of that. If you really insist that you want to eat at some restaurant or worse- a fast food restaurant (!) he has no power to stop you. He’ll go with you, but he’ll be silent most of the time and will be glaring at you as you eat.

“I’m not mad, I’m just disappointed.”

~But the moment you finally break, and promise to always choose his food over others, he’s momentarily back to himself, apologising and cuddling the hell out of you. Overbearing, but he does it out of care.

~That’s where it ends though. He invites you to eat dinner with him every few days and sometimes makes you snacks, but the rest is up to you. He doesn’t really stick his nose into your eating habits. And he doesn’t forbid you from eating in restaurants either. He’ll straight out encourage you to try out new places, but that’s only as long as he’s not able to cook for you himself, probably due to lack of time.

~If he sees some occasional food trucks or other kinds of time-limited food stalls, he’s absolutely getting you stuff from there. He’ll probably get a little bit of everything so that the two of you can go back there and eat whatever you liked the most.

~And if he sees someone bothering you for your eating habits, he won’t hesitate to pull them aside and scold them or even start a fight if necessary. 

~Will ask his friends and fellow gang members if they’ve been to any good restaurants/bars/cafes/food stalls or anything recently so that he can take you there later.

~Also, will try out even more new recipes and even has a little notebook where he writes down your favourite ones. Then, on some grand dates like anniversaries, your birthday or valentines, he’ll prepare little feasts entirely made out of your favourites.

~HOLD HIM FROM BEHIND AS HE COOKS. The first time you did it he froze and started blushing like crazy. He’d pin you to the wall and make out with you if he didn’t have milk on the stove. 

~From there on, he usually demands that you do it each time you ask if he needs any help or feel guilty with how much effort he puts in for you. This is it, this is the payment. Bonus points if you nuzzle your face into his shoulder. It’s his favourite thing to make him relax.

~Compliment his cooking and he’ll be genuinely thrown off. It’s something which always manages to make his mind all hazy and the butterflies in his stomach spring to life. Don’t let him brush it off! Keep going to witness the great mitsuya takashi embarrassed and shy.

~All in all, LET HIM COOK

Mikey

I came up w/ this one while taking a shit

~I can literally see a whole love story forming there.

~Imagine you decided on a study break, went to some shop nearby and bought some snacks. Let’s say, a croissant or two. A full ass croissant with chocolate inside and stuff. And you go to the park to enjoy it. It’s late afternoon, you find a bench hidden in the shadow of some old maple and bon appetit!

~You were halfway in, when you noticed that someone sat at the opposite side of the bench. You glanced that way and saw a blonde who looked to be about your age. He was also eating, but it was dorayaki. Without thinking much about it, your attention shifted back to your treat. After you were done, you quietly left.

~Then, a whole week later, it was also around that time that you decided to have some air, went to the same store and this time, bought a box of cookies. Once again, you ventured into the park and soon noticed that the bench you occupied last time was once again empty. So you sat there and enjoyed your break. 

~And again, the very same blonde appeared and sat nearby but with a different snack. 

You were suddenly pulled out of your blissful state by the stranger’s voice. 

“Can I have one cookie?” You turned to look at him. “I’ll give you pocky in exchange,” he noticed the slight surprise on your face and sent you a reassuring smile. “Is it too sudden? Sorry, but they just smell so good. Seriously, what flavour is this?”

“I think it’s because of the orange filling,“ you extended the box towards him as he moved closer to you. He took one cookie and offered you his pocky. 

“Thank you! Now try this, it’s green tea flavoured.”

“Nice, thanks.”

~No more words were spoken and as you finished, you simply said your goodbye and left. But the next time you went there, he was on the bench already. When he noticed you, he waved you in greeting and another exchange took place, this time, you also had a little small talk. Then, the same situation kept repeating until the two of you sat right next to each other and chatted casually. 

~Every few days, you headed to the bench, hoping to see him there. But after some time, it didn’t simply end on the bench hangouts. He’d ask you to go with him to that cafe you spoke so fondly about. Or the ramen restaurant he recommended. 

~As you began to spend more time together, you exchanged numbers, began to text each other and even developed feelings. None of you could point out the exact time when you fell in love. It just felt so right when you were together, you soon began to officially date. 

~Which brings us to this point. Seriously, you’re like twin souls. It is now a common occurrence for the two of you to exchange food or even steal each other’s. Literally imagine you and a few of his friends hanging out at his place and he looks through his drawers frowning for a while and finally asks “who took my limited edition strawberry taiyaki?” with a death voice. No one dares to breathe, but there you are, head peeking from the bathroom. “Oh, I ate it”.

~Everyone gets ready to hold Mikey down to at least give you a few minutes to run, but he just gets back to his normal mode and smiles. “Did you like it? I’ll buy more for you next time then.” And they’re absolutely bewildered. No, I will never get tired of this trope

~Food dates all of the time. Cafe, restaurant, bar, grocery store, name it and you’ll be going there. Especially if you’re too shy to go on your own. There is no such thing as ‘too much food’ in his dictionary. Eat to your heart’s content and if anyone dares to comment, we all know what happens. 

~Totally the type to bring you some sweets and ask for cuddles, kisses and letting him sleep on your lap in exchange. But hey! You can do the same. Actually, you don’t even have to get him anything. He’s physically unable to say no to you even if he sometimes gets a little bit pouty, a few minutes later he doesn’t even remember why he was mad in the first place.

~Once you have dated for some time, he’s the type to ask you how does your food taste while you’re eating, and as you’re moving your plate towards him, it’s 50/50 whether he demands you to feed him or steals a kiss and then licks his lips and says, “it’s good.”

~The spoon feeding though. He wants you to feed him just as much as he wants to feed you. It makes everyone in the 10 metre radius look away. Especially if you happen to be hanging out with his friends. The moment you start, various groans and sighs can be heard all around you. But at the same time, they all have those little smirks on their lips. 

~Their leader is smitten. Good for him.

[amber-tortoiseshell]

Hi! I'm trying to figure out what the mom of these kittens probably looks like, and I just can't make my brain wrap around the recessives and the sex linked stuff. Can you check my work?

Here are the babies and the daddy:

All longhair colorpoints. Dilute tortie female Juniper, seal point male Jasper with white toes and small bib (not really visible here), and two dilute red males, Chicken and Waffles, who take after like their daddy, Winston. No white bits on the others that I could see, though on the red babies it was hard to tell because they were so pale at that time.

My guess is Mama was also a longhair tortie colorpoint, because if she were seal-point she would not be able to have red male offspring, right? And she must have had one copy of the black gene, because she made a tortie and a seal-point baby, both of which require black, so she would have to be a tortie? And given 3/4 of the babies I have met are dilute, would she be?

And lastly, the little seal-point boy has perfect white toes on all four feet and the white does not go up any further than that at all. His chest has a palm-sized symmetrical splash of white. None of the others have white paws or spotting that I could see. Does this point to a mitting gene vs. regular white spotting for his unique and dear little toes? Might he have got them from Mom?

(The breeding situation that produced the babies was very unethical but that is being worked on. I just want to know what Mom might look like out of curiosity, but also so if someone needs to pick her out of a group, they know what they are looking for.)

Thank you!

All right, let's take a look at the genotypes here.

Juniper. I don't know if you didn't realize it or just didn't mention, but she a tabby, so her color is blue tortoiseshell tabby point; in genotype terms A_ cscs dd Oo ww (tabby point diluted tortoiseshell no-white).

Jasper is, as you say, a seal aka black point with white. The recessive, only-the-paws white is called the gloving allele by the way, not mitting (that's the name of a white spotting pattern in ragdolls and probably usually caused by the "regular" ws allele). Gloving is possible here, but there's nothing against the usual ws white spotting, so i'd say let's just assume the latter. (Gloved wouldn't tell anything about the parents anyway, they could just carry it without expressing it.) This small amount of white is presumably heterozygous, so he is aa cscs D_ o- wsw (solid point dense black white-spotted).

I'll be honest i'm not completely convinced these boys are all diluted, especially the youngers who are still developing their colors, but let's assume they are. Unfortunately nothing really can be said about their agouti genotypes, a red/cream point and a red/cream tabby point looks basically the same. White spotting, as you said, is also very unclear, and i can't see Winston's paws. So what we know of their genotypes is __ cscs dd O- __ for Chicken and Waffles, and _a cscs dd O- _w for Winston (because he has both a solid and a no-white offspring, so he must have at least one of those alleles).

What does this say about the mother? The genotype we know for sure is _a _cs Dd Oo _w - black tortoiseshell. The tabby/solid really can go either way. I agree she's very likely pointed, but in theory full color is also possible. With Winston being cream, she can't be diluted, it's recessive, two dilutes can't make a dense like Jasper. Tortoiseshell, because you're completely right, she must have both the black and red alleles to have both black and red sons. If you're sure Winston doesn't have white spotting, then that comes from her. So her color is most likely black (seal) tortoiseshell point with white or black (seal) tortoiseshell tabby point with white.

[xoxochb]

buttermilk waffles (drowning in syrup) 🧇

hiiii! is it okay to ask for a lil something with jason grace x popstar!reader based off of sabrina carpenter's bed chem?

also????? in love with your theme sm!!! girl, i wish i had ur eye for creativity 😭

⋆·˚ ༘ * bed chem

warnings: allusions to sex, brief kissing, pairing: jason grace x pop star! reader a/n: this isn’t really based off the song but I thought of this idea and wanted to write it because it’s cutesy

event list

you sit down, breathless at the end of the stage, allowing your legs to dangle over the edge. you sigh and turn the microphone to your mouth

“so,” you start, still trying to catch your breath “that was my new song bed chem from my new album short and sweet-”

you’re cut off by the crowd cheering loudly, making a wide smile appear on your lips. “okay… okay…” you laugh. you hear a question being yelled from somewhere in the crowd. your eyebrows perk up and you tilt the microphone away from you to hear better. you point at your ears and then to your mouth to signal the fan to speak in the microphone. a girl— maybe around eighteen comes up to the stage and you switch your position to be laying on your stomach to help yourself with reducing the movie of others fans

at first the fan stumbles over her words, struggling to get something out. when she conquers the right words she begins, “this song- I was wondering who you wrote it about”

this sends the crowd in a chant, begging to hear the culprit you had sang about. you rest your chin on your hand and turn your head to the right of the stage, electric blue eyes meeting yours. you giggle like a silly lovesick school girl and turn back to the crowd

you rotate the mic make to yourself. “well if I told you that would ruin the fun wouldn’t it?”

the crowd starts groaning making you laugh in return

“okay, okay. let me tell you a story. two years ago I was at an award show, you know- and I had that black sheer dress on, remember? and when I was walking home I met this boy- oh god was he handsome! we walked around the city for a while and talked, something casual. but there was tension brewing, and we went back to my apartment, and I’m sure you know where I’m going with this-”

you hear screams— blood curling screams from the crowd. If you didn't know any better you would've thought there was something awful happening

“guys, guys” you wait as the crowd calms down and goes quiet again “that boy, he’s my boyfriend now. this is the first time he’s heard this song. I hope he likes this song because I’m hoping to recreate the first night when we leave”

the crowd laughs and ushers you to go. you dramatically gasp. “wow. you want me gone? I see how it is!”

you stand up and dramatically close the show, saying your farewells to your fans and waving goodbye before heading backstage. In a lovestruck daze you don’t realize a pair of lips slotting over your own until, well— they were! you knew the arms wrapping around your waist and the lips against your own all too well via nights fantasizing about them and nights when the fantasy’s came true. your smile causes you to break away

“hi jase” you peck his lips and slide your arms around his neck “I like these kinds of greetings”

the blond mirrors your expression. “the feelings are mutual”

you squeal and throw your head back. jason takes this to his advantage and begins kissing your neck. “you really wrote that song about me?”

“no, leo”

you receive a pinch to your waist in return

“I did, I did!”

“good. because I would agree”

blood rushes to your cheeks. you play dumb. “about what, angel?”

“we have really good bed chem”

[knight-of-flowerss]

I am tooo addicted to Trucker Cregan being a dad, imagining you being really sick with the twins or later on it being a difficult pregnancy and him stepping up more and having to wrangle his crotch goblins as you put them lmaooo and he complains but lowkey bonds with them a ton and misses them more when he has to go back to work (especially gilly but dont tell her brothers)

OMG YESS AWEEE (and I'm loving how people are catching on to calling his kids crotch goblins 😭)

IM SO SORRY THESE ARE TAKING FOREVER TO WRITE IVE BEEN SO NOT MOTIVATED AND I HAVE TO GO INTO HOSPITAL AND STUPID COLLEGE AND LIFE SHIT 😞😞😞 I promise I love y'all these are just so bad they seem like I don't, I'm sorry 😖☹️

Dad!Trucker!Cregan Stark x Pregnant!Reader + Their crotch goblins

MASTERLIST

Cregan was less than happy about the idea of taking care of his kids while you were going through the last painful leg of your pregnancy.

He was miserable to say the least.

So the luck of him getting any action was already nearly out the window, but if he asked nicely you'd probably blow him. But now that he's got these four cock blocks hanging on his every move, yeah, that luck is six feet under.

Gilly loved him but maybe too much, she always wanted to be with daddy and do whatever daddy's doing. He loved her to bits but it was getting old real fast whenever he just wanted to drink a beer in peace.

Rickon was probably the easiest. The shy boy was always either sat next to Cregan on the couch watching whatever 'football' (I'm putting it in quotations 'cause fuck y'all Americans how dare yous call that football. ☹️🫵) show was on, Rickon didn't even like 'football', it was just the only time he got to sit with his daddy without his siblings interfering, or he was sat on the bed next to you and showing you how much he's learned in school and showing off how much he can read and write.

Ned was the most annoying. The little shit wouldn't give him a moments peace. Once, Cregan was kissing Ned's head as he tucked him in and the fucker launched himself up and bit down on his Adam's apple. Yeah, that shit hurt. He can't even go 'yeah, he's a pain in the ass, but I love him'. To Cregan, it's 'He's a pain in the fucking ass and my girlfriend said I have to love him so'.

And Denny. The fucking prick that loves his momma more. He's two, so you can pretty much assume how much Cregan hated that, especially with all the screaming and crying every time Cregan tried to pick him up.

He really didn't want to deal with them. Like, really. But he saw the condition you were in. He knew you couldn't handle them by yourself in the last leg of your already painful pregnancy.

The first few days were.. eventful..

Drawings all over the walls, dirty dishes everywhere, dirty clothes strewn across the kids rooms and toys thrown around throughout the house. Cregan even had drawings in felt pen all over his bare back since he accidentally fell asleep before the kids.

This carried on for a few days until he got used to them, learnt who liked what.

Gilly loved pancakes with honey and lemon juice but no sugar. Rickon waffles slathered in chocolate spread covered in sugar and a various assortment of fruits on top. Ned was the one that decided he wanted to be fancy and his favourite were blueberry pancakes with jelly on top. Denny just ate anything infront of him to be honest.

Gilly loved pink skirts but hated pink dresses. She'd rather have a green dress, weirdly. But no green top. And she adores her yellow, sparkly wellies, she'll wear them wherever she goes with whatever outfit she wears, no matter if it clashes or not.

Rickon, like everyone expects I suppose, loves those sophisticated shorts. You know, the ones that the rich kids wear on Easter with the button up striped blue and white shirt with a navy bow tie and suspenders. Yeah, he'd rock that whole outfit everyday if he could, much to Cregan's dismay.

Ned just wears shorts and whatever shirt you pick for him, the same with Denny, even though he'd shimmy off those shorts halfway through the day.

He learnt that Gilly was scared of thunder, so was Ned, Rickon was scared of rabbits weirdly and Denny was fearless, I think he's yet to develop fear. Wait, no, I guess you could argue he's scared of Cregan but even Cregan himself can't tell if Denny's scared of him or just hates him lmao.

He slowly started to realise why and how people actually love their kids. I mean, how can he not look at them after spending a month and a half with them and think not?

And after the twins were born, it was a plateful. Seriously. Taking care of two demanding newborns and three demanding kids alongside a weird little shy one who just kinda stands in the corner, it was a lot.

And when Cregan had to return back to work after a month since the twins were born, he was sad on the inside. He was going to miss getting jumped on and getting the wind knocked out of him each morning by Ned. Getting stickers placed on him to 'make him more pretty' by Gilly. Getting given evil looks by just existing from Denny. Rickon's side eyes whenever he sits with him, making sure his daddy was still happy and okay that he was there with him. He even missed the two newborns, the two pains in his ass, the two who keep both you and him up at night.

He secretly missed all his kids but he openly missed you, well, openly in front of his kids, never anyone else. He's still a fucking bastard at the end of the day. Your bastard.

Tags: @thethreeeyed-raven @lost-in-fiction-like-ur-mom @cryinonthefloor553 @visenyablackwood @velaryyon