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slaymitchabernathy · 1 day

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The Nanny

“Looks like you survived the first day.”

Soarynn can only nod and blink while she follows Eudora through more hallways of the Mansion. She had gone straight to bed last night after she got home, too tired to do anything else.

But this morning she made sure to wake up with enough time to shower, style her hair and prepare for another long day of running after the children. She had thought of maybe taking them to the zoo, but she supposed it was up to their father at the end of the day.

As Eudora had mentioned, the children didn’t do as much as they used to after their mother died. He probably didn’t want to risk losing them in some freak accident and Soarynn certainly didn’t want to be the cause of something like that.

“Now breakfast is very important,” Eudora tells her, “this is the only time that the children get to see their father so it’s imperative that you and I say nothing unless spoken to. We’ll go over our schedules for the day, but other than that, zip it.” She turns to Soarynn and mimics throwing away an imaginary key and Soarynn presses her lips into a thin line, earning her a smile from Eudora, “Good! Coriolanus usually arrives a few minutes after the children so they can get started on breakfast early.”

Soarynn follows her down a few more hallways until she can hear the familiar giggles of the children. “I could’ve woken them up,” she mumbles, feeling bad that someone—most likely Eudora—had to do it.

Eudora waves her off, “You can wake them up for the rest of your employment dear, don’t you worry.”

They walk into a beautifully decorated dining room, with floor to ceiling windows and mahogany finishings. It’s one of the most beautiful and expensive rooms Soarynn has ever been in so it makes sense for this to be the room the Snows only eat breakfast in.

Why have every meal in the same room when you have twenty more?

All three children are seated at the table but they’re running the second they see her and Eudora.

“Soarynn! Soarynn you came back!” Ceraphina shrieks, throwing her arms around Soarynn’s legs.

Soarynn chuckles and runs a loving hand through Ceraphina’s hair, looking down into her blue-gray eyes, “I promised I’d stick around didn’t I?”

Celeste comes up behind her sister, simply taking Soarynn’s hand instead, “Well people lie,” she tells her matter of factly.

She’s got a point.

“Daddy says to never lie,” Ceraphina continues, “lying is bad and it breaks trust because Daddy says so.” Celeste nods in agreement, “Mhm. No lying allowed.”

These girls seem to cling to every word their father says, so she’ll have to watch what she says as well. “Lying can be very hurtful,” Soarynn agrees, trying to steer the conversation in any other direction, “now why don’t we eat this delicious breakfast?”

She’s met with zero complaints and they all make their way over to the table where Caspian is watching them with sleepy eyes, Lenny nearly falling from his grasp. Soarynn chuckles, readjusting Lenny so that he doesn’t take a tumble onto the floor, “Good morning Caspian. Did you sleep well?”

Caspian mumbles something she can’t quite understand but he reaches out for her and Soarynn gladly pulls him into her lap.

Breakfast today is an assortment of pastries, eggs cooked in every possible way, fruits, and juices. The girls seem to only be eating the pastries, the croissants, and doughnuts whereas Eudora and Soarynn help themselves to some eggs and fruits.

“Is Daddy going to be home tonight for dinner?” Ceraphina asks, a few crumbs falling from her mouth as she finishes her croissant. Eudora shakes her head, reaching out to dab the corners of Ceraphina’s mouth with a napkin, “Don’t talk with food in your mouth dear. And no, your father has a very important meeting tonight. Soarynn will eat dinner with you.”

Soarynn offers Ceraphina a smile but she’s met with a pout, “Daddy never has dinner with us anymore,” she grumbles.

Before Soarynn or Eudora can say anything to prove that statement to be incorrect, a stern, authoritative voice fills the room. “What’s this about me not eating dinner with my girls?”

Both Ceraphina and Celeste gasp, turning to look over their chairs at their father making his way into the room. He looks very handsome today, wearing a charcoal gray suit with his curls slicked back. He looks like he just happened to stop by for breakfast. Soarynn wonders if this is a part of his schedule.

6:00 A.M. - Wake Up

8:00 A.M. - Breakfast with the children

8:45 A.M. - Start running the country

Soarynn wouldn’t be surprised if he had to schedule every little interaction just to stay on top of things.

Both girls are out of their seats again, running over to their father who bends down on one knee to be at eye level with them. Soarynn looks down at Caspian to see if he also wants to go greet his father, but he seems quite content in her lap, mindlessly chewing on a croissant.

"Daddy, can we please have dinner with you tonight? Please, please, please, we'll be so well-behaved," Ceraphina promises, getting Celeste to nod along with her, "Yes, we'll be so quiet," Celeste adds.

President Snow gives his girls a small smile, reaching out to brush some of Ceraphina's hair out from her face, "I'm afraid not my darlings, this dinner is strictly business. You know the rules."

The girls must not be big fans of these rules because they both slouch, and Soarynn can see Celeste is on the verge of tears which he's quick to interfere with, "No need for tears Celeste," he tells her, his thumb wiping away at her eyes, "we still get to have breakfast together, don't we?"

Celeste shoves his hand away, stomping her little foot for good measure, "But you always had dinner with us! When Mommy was alive, you always had din-"

"Mommy isn't here anymore," he cuts her off, his voice more stern than it was before as he takes her small hands into his big ones, "but if she were here, what would she say? What would she want you to do for her?"

Ceraphina perks up, raising her hand as if she's in class, "Oh I know! I know Daddy!" President Snow nods, his focus still on his youngest daughter, "I know you do sweetheart, and so does your sister, right?" He uses one hand to give her a gentle squeeze, making Celeste crack a small smile, "She'd want me to be on my best behavior," she says slowly, rocking back and forth on her heels, "...and to listen to you."

"Mhm. And I know you can do that for me, darling."

It's a sweet sight to watch the President of Panem get down on one knee to talk to his daughters, to watch him wipe their tears and give them a hug. Soarynn had wondered how involved he really was with his children's lives, but it seems that he knows them well enough to know what to say when things went south.

With no more tears threatening breakfast, the girls make their way back to the table, hand in hand with their father. Eudora doesn't even look up from the binder she brought, flipping through several pages of what Soarynn can only guess is his schedule.

Soarynn expects President Snow to take his seat but he walks around to her side which would make her nervous if it weren't for his youngest child sitting in her lap. She hopes that's alright, that Caspian won't get in trouble for sitting in her lap instead of his own chair. He's just so small and sweet, it's hard to say no to him.

President Snow doesn't even acknowledge her when he comes to a stop next to her, the scent of roses overwhelming her while he places a loving hand on Caspian's head, "Good morning Caspian."

Soarynn swallows at how deep President Snow's voice sounds in the morning. Caspian looks up at his father, piercing blue eyes meeting piercing blue eyes, "Lenny."

"Yes, I see you brought Lenny to breakfast...again. Imagine my surprise."

Caspian looks back down at his food, "Lenny," he mumbles, pulling at his croissant some more.

Soarynn keeps her head down, watching from her peripheral vision to see when President Snow finally sits down. He's seated between the girls which is probably for the best, both girls can get equal amounts of attention this way.

"Girls, you need to eat some eggs," he tells them, reaching for some fruits for himself. Ceraphina groans, slumping in her chair, "Eggs are gross." This earns her a sharp look from her father, "I'm sure people in the Districts would love eggs," he counters, grabbing the dish of scrambled eggs, "and eggs will help you grow to be proper ladies."

Ceraphina looks across the table at Soarynn, her eyes narrowing, "Do you eat eggs Soarynn?"

All eyes are on her now and Soarynn nervously brushes some of her hair out from her face, "I do," she answers, "a balanced meal is necessary to stay healthy." That wasn't the answer Ceraphina was looking for.

President Snow grunts and places some scrambled eggs on both girl's plates, "See? Now eat your eggs please."

There are worse things to eat but the girls don't push back any further, slowly but surely eating their eggs, even if they make very dramatic faces while doing so. President Snow shakes his head and looks over at Eudora, "What's my day looking like Eudora."

Soarynn wonders how Eudora got this job, was she some event coordinator prior to landing this job? Or do all the Trinkets plan out the President's day?

"You have a meeting right after breakfast, then you have an interview with the Gazette, and after that, you have a phone call with the Mayors from Two, Four, and Six. Then after that..."

Soarynn tunes out the rest of the schedule, focusing on keeping most of Caspian's breakfast on his plate and not on the floor, "Soarynn, what're we doing today?" Celeste's question makes her a bit nervous, she had thought about the zoo, but another day in the house doesn't sound too bad now that her boss is sitting across from her.

Soarynn swallows, "I thought...I thought we might go to the zoo," she says softly, "but it might be too busy today."

The girls don't even listen to the last part, they're already gasping and squealing and grabbing their father by the arm, "Daddy! Daddy, can we go to the zoo with Soarynn? Please can we go?"

President Snow's piercing gaze finally lands on Soarynn and he looks nothing like the man she encountered last night. No, he looks like the man who asked about her dead father and then warned her to not act like the children's mother.

Soarynn feels so very small in her chair.

"I want to see the tigers," Celeste says, tugging on his sleeve, "and the birds, and the monkeys."

President Snow sighs, rubbing his temples, "It'll be hot today," he says, more to Soarynn than to his children, "but I suppose a trip to the zoo would be nice."

Soarynn lets out a small sigh of relief while the girls celebrate, cheering and promising to eat all of their eggs. President Snow says a few things to Eudora about extra security measures and clearing out the entire zoo before he starts asking the girls about what they did yesterday.

Soarynn heeds Eudora's words, staying out of the conversation and simply helping when needed. Caspian gets fussy after a while, wanting to be held by his father which is an adorable sight. He really is a miniature version of his father.

"Momma," Caspian says, looking up at his father expectantly.

President Snow shakes his head, a small smile on his lips while he fixes Caspian's bedhead, "She's not here anymore Cas. No more Momma."

Soarynn feels her heart breaking a little bit more for these children who so desperately miss their mother.

"Mommy's in the ground, remember Cas?" Ceraphina reminds him, poking at what remains of her breakfast, "Daddy says we can go put flowers on her grave soon."

Soarynn looks over at Eudora who's wearing a sad expression, perhaps she was close to Livia before she passed.

"Yes," their father finally says, "we can go put flowers on Mommy's grave soon."

꧁ ꧂

Soarynn never knew that a single child could possess so many clothes.

She spins around in Ceraphina's closet, in absolute awe at how many dresses she has. A normal four-year-old would have a normal amount of clothes, but Ceraphina Snow is not a normal child.

"Ceraphina darling, what do you want to wear today?" Soarynn calls, wondering if Ceraphina can ever hear her from all the way inside her closet. After breakfast Soarynn and the children made their way upstairs to get them properly dressed for their outing to the zoo.

She had left all three children in Ceraphina's bedroom, figuring it would be easier to dress them individually but they might want to pick out their own clothes. But she hears small footsteps a second later and looks down to find Ceraphina staring up at her, a smile on her cute face, "You called?"

Soarynn nods, "I did. What do you want to wear today? It will be hot like your father said." Ceraphina hums, spinning around her massive closet, her fingertips grazing several dresses until she stops on a pink dress, "This one! Except, you have to tie the bow in the back," she explains.

Soarynn pulls it off the rack to find that there is a small box that ties in the back, making it a very cute dress. "It's perfect," she tells the child, "and we can put a bow in your hair too."

Ceraphina gasps, not even thinking about her hair until now, "Will you braid my hair again? And Celeste's too?" Soarynn smiles and nods, it's so sweet how the girls always make sure to include one another.

Soarynn helps Ceraphina get dressed, making sure to tie the perfect bow, which earns her an excited squeal from Ceraphina, "Oh, it's so pretty!"

Soarynn wonders what the children's routine was with their last nanny. Did she let them pick out their clothes? Did she take them to the zoo?

But she doesn't think about it any longer, not when she's got to get Caspian and Celeste ready as well, "You look very fancy," Soarynn tells her, "like a true proper Capitol lady."

Her words must mean more than she thought to Ceraphina who's practically beaming, "Thank you!"

Soarynn hums, leading them back into the bathroom which is as massive as the closet. Soarynn sits Ceraphina up on the counter, and grabs a hairbrush, "You want me to braid it again?"

"Yes please."

Easy enough. Soarynn grew up braiding everyone's hair, it was the thing for girls to do. She and her friends would practice different styles on one another, all thinking about a future where they could have the chance to style their daughter's hair.

Ceraphina isn't her daughter though.

And she'd do well to remember that.

꧁ ꧂

Soarynn feels a little bit nervous stepping out with all three Snow children.

Getting them out of the house hadn't been too difficult, she thought their father might come say goodbye but he was nowhere to be seen after breakfast. The car ride was short which she was grateful for since both girls wanted to do everything but sit down and sit still.

At least Caspian sat still.

The August heat beats down on the small group as they make their way towards the zoo's entrance. Soarynn can't remember the last time she went to the zoo, she was probably around Ceraphina's age. As she got older, animals were replaced by catalogs and lipsticks.

Taking care of children means reliving the best parts of her childhood, the parts she got to spend with her father.

They're escorted by a group of Peacekeepers, clearing out the entire area for them. Soarynn barely sees anyone else at the zoo now that she thinks about it. Did President Snow close it down for them? She wouldn't put it past him.

"Look at the flamingos!" Soarynn watches the girls run over to the first enclosure, a small lake with beautiful pink birds wading in the water. Caspian is taking small, slow steps alongside her, looking around the zoo, "Lenny," he says, a small pout on his face.

Soarynn sighs, "I'm sorry darling, but Lenny might get lost if we bring him here. He's safe and sound back in your room."

Caspian shakes his head, "Lenny."

Soarynn had decided against bringing his precious stuffed animal to the zoo for the main purpose of keeping him safe. She didn't need him to fall into the wrong enclosure and go missing.

They finally reach the flamingos and she picks him up so that he can see better, "Look at the flamingos Cas," Ceraphina says, standing on her tiptoes, "they're so pink!"

Celeste tilts her head while watching the birds, "Why are they pink Soarynn? Did someone dye their feathers?"

Soarynn chuckles and shakes her head, what a sweet way to think of the flamingos, "No darling. I think it's what they eat that makes them pink." Celeste's eyes widen and she watches one of the birds flap its wings, "If I eat pink food will I turn pink?"

"You might feel sick, but you won't turn pink," Soarynn tells her, "why don't we go look at the monkeys?"

꧁ ꧂

They spend a good chunk of their afternoon running around the zoo.

Besides the workers, Soarynn doesn't see a single patron which further confirms that President Snow has seen to it that no one will disturb his children today.

The children loved watching the monkeys, especially since they're so similar to humans. Caspian was elated to see an actual lion, even if this one was sleeping the entire time they watched him. Caspian kept roaring at the lion, hoping to get a response. It did get the girls to giggle, Soarynn didn't know he could be so loud but anyone nearby could hear him.

Then they moved onto the aviary where they were all given sticks with birdseed stuck to them. If they stood still enough, a bird might land on the stick. The girls moved around far too much for a bird to even consider landing on their sticks, but Caspian actually managed to get one bird's attention.

Everyone gasped when the small wren landed on his stick, pecking at the birdseed. "That's a bird Caspian," Soarynn had whispered, watching Caspian's face of delight while the bird continued to peck at the seeds. "Bird," Caspian had repeated, eyes wide with amazement.

As the day dwindled down, they found themselves in the zoo's gift shop, which must be new because Soarynn knew for certain that it wasn't around when she was a little girl.

"Can we please get a stuffed animal?" Ceraphina asks, tugging on the dress Soarynn chose to wear today, giving her pleading eyes, "Just one stuffed animal, please?"

Soarynn wants to remind her that they've got an entire collection waiting at home, but she can see Celeste eyeing a stuffed bear already like she owns it. Whoever designed the gift shop to be right next to the exit must hate parents because this is a recipe for disaster.

Soarynn cards her fingers through her hair, "I don't think so darling. We'd have to pay for the stuffed ani-"

"It's free of charge," a worker interjects, flashing them a Capitol smile, "President Snow insists. Pick whatever you like."

Well, that's the greenlight Soarynn didn't need because the children go nuts, grabbing everything in sight. They won't be able to fit into the car at this rate. "Girls," Soarynn says sternly, "you each can pick out one stuffed animal, alright?"

Cerapina huffs, putting her hands on her hips, "Well Daddy said th-"

"Well, I am saying that you can only choose one," Soarynn cuts her off, "it's not fair to the other children who visit the zoo if you take everything. We have to think of others and share."

They're at a standstill, Caspian and Celeste watching as Ceraphina and Soarynn battle it out. But Soarynn is a grown-up, and she's not backing down.

"Or you don't have to pick anything," she says sweetly, "we can just go home if you'd like."

Celeste gasps and grabs her sister's hand, "If you want to leave with nothing you can. But I am leaving with a stuffed animal." Her little sister's words seem to knock some sense into Ceraphina who slowly nods, "Okay, one stuffed animal," she agrees, running off with Celeste to grab something.

Soarynn lets out a sigh of relief. She doesn't want to come off as strict or mean, but she has to earn the children's respect and that means not backing down on certain things such as how many stuffed animals are too many.

"What do you want to get Caspian?" She asks, bouncing him on her hip. She tried to let him down several times today but he's clung onto her every time, wanting to be carried. Who is she to deny him?

Caspian points at a display of different bird stuffed animals, "Bird."

Soarynn smiles, "Excellent choice."

꧁ ꧂

"Hold my hand while we walk to the car please," Soarynn says, reaching out for Celeste's hand. Coming into the zoo, the streets were empty, but a crowd has grown since they went in and it's making Soarynn nervous. She knows they're safe, protected by Peacekeepers but she's still nervous.

Celeste gives her a curious look but obliges to her request, taking her large hand into her smaller one, offering her other hand to Ceraphina, "We've got to stick together," she tells her sister. Ceraphina nods, her blue-gray eyes scanning the crowd, "Snows stick together."

Soarynn guides them towards the car, doing her best to ignore all the shouts that are thrown her way. None of them are mean, everyone seems to be excited to see the President's children out and about after so long. Many people call out the girl's names, a few even waving. Soarynn spots a familiar face, Lucky Flickerman with his camera crew, commentating on the entire spectacle this has become.

Soarynn swallows and tugs the girls along quicker, desperate to get inside the car, "Come on, time to go home," she urges, helping them climb into the back of the car. Soaynn slides in last with Caspian still in her hold, slamming the door shut and letting out a breath of relief when the car immediately starts moving.

"Were you scared?"

Soarynn looks over at Celeste who's playing with her new stuffed bear, the same one she was eyeing earlier, "I was," she admits, "I'm not used to that many people watching me."

Celeste gives her a smile, kicking her feet as they dangle off the car seat, "Don't be scared, Daddy always protects us."

Ceraphina hums in agreement, playing with the stuffed horse she picked out, "People always take pictures of us. Daddy says it's because we're very important."

"You are very important," Soarynn agrees, knowing that sentiment doesn't apply to her as well. She's just a nanny.

Just a nanny.

꧁ ꧂

The Mansion is quiet when they return although Soarynn doubts that it's ever truly busy. The girls run ahead to the dining room where lunch is waiting for them, giggling and playing with their new stuffed animals along the way.

"Lenny," Caspian mumbles, burying his face in the crook of Soarynn's neck. He should probably be put down for a nap. "Alright," she decides, "we'll go upstairs so you can take a nap with Lenny, how does that sound?" He must be so tired after such a busy day.

Soarynn opts to take the back staircase since it's closer, carefully climbing all the steps. She's almost at the top when she hears the familiar voice of President Snow, looking up to find him and another man climbing down the same steps.

For a moment, she's frozen. Not knowing what to do or how to act.

Caspian thinks for her, perking up when his father comes into view and he holds out his new stuffed animal, "Bird."

Soarynn steps to the side so the men can pass, keeping her head down when they pass. "Bird," Caspian repeats when his father passes by, earning him a small nod before he continues down the stairs. Soarynn smooths Caspian's hair down, both of them watching his father disappear down the stairway, "Let's get you in bed mister," she whispers, climbing the last few steps.

She can't shake that feeling while she tucks Caspian into his crib after changing him into some pajamas. President Snow hadn't even really looked at her and yet she felt frozen, in trouble, nervous.

Will she always feel this way around her employer?

꧁ ꧂

The zoo mixed with the August heat took a toll on the Snow children today. Both girls are slumped over on a sofa while Soarynn and Caspian sit on an armchair, the television playing softly in front of them.

They're in that strange period between lunch and dinner where taking a nap sounds like the best idea ever. Ceraphina perks up when a cat appears in a commercial for cat food, its brown fur looks so soft. "Do you have any pets?" She asks Soarynn, playing with the hem of her dress. A few stray curls have come loose from her braid throughout the day but Soarynn can always slick them back down if need be.

"I do," Soarynn nods, "a white cat named Petunia."

This is big, exciting news apparently.

Both girls are all over her in seconds, asking all sorts of questions.

"How old is she?"

"Is she nice?"

"Does she smell bad?"

"Does she meow a lot?"

"Can she do tricks?"

Soarynn is blown away by all their questions and motions for them to sit down on the floor so they don't crowd Caspian who nearly got smothered, "Petunia is five years old, she's very sweet, and no, she doesn't smell bad since I give her lots of baths. She has a bit of a loud personality, so she meows on occasion, but she's also a bit of a diva so she doesn't know any tricks."

Soarynn was gifted Petunia by her father for her birthday and she became her most prized possession. She knows Petunia is at home right now, passed out on top of her pillow without a care in the world.

Heaven forbid that cat ever have to fend for herself.

"Daddy won't let us get a cat," Celeste pouts, "or any pet. He says they're too messy." Petunia is a rather clean cat but Soarynn is sure that there are messier animals out there. "I'm sure he has his reasons," Soarynn tells her, doing her best to defend the President when he's not here to do it himself, "and pets are a lot of responsibility."

Lucky Flickerman's television show finally comes back on the screen and Soarynn can't believe her eyes. It's her. Her and the children at the zoo.

"Today we had a rare sighting at the zoo today folks and no, it wasn't an animal that we saw!" Lucky draws some chuckles from the crowd before continuing, "We caught a rare glimpse of the Presidential family out and about, enjoying the zoo on this bright sunny day, accompanied by who must be their new nanny. Looks like she could be their mother!"

Soarynn is mortified.

This is exactly what she gets for trying to do something different. She should've just stayed within the safety of the Mansion's walls but now she's being compared to Livia Snow.

"We're on television! Soarynn look!"

Ceraphina's words wash right over Soarynn, a million thoughts running through her mind, the main one being that she's getting fired tonight, she has no doubt in her mind that President Snow will fire her. She didn't even last a week.

"Let's go to the playroom," Soarynn says, clicking the television off, "I think that's enough television for tonight."

꧁ ꧂

Dinner is quiet.

Well, Soarynn is quiet.

The girls are talking a mile a minute, telling Eudora every single thing they did and saw at the zoo today. Soarynn pushes her food around on the plate, no longer hungry.

"...and then we got new stuffed animals!" Celeste finishes, throwing her hands in the air for dramatic effect. Eudora gives her an impressed nod, "Sounds like you were very busy today. That's good, a busy schedule is a good schedule."

"Is Daddy busy?"

"Yes dear, he's always busy."

"I wish he'd play with us," Ceraphina mumbles, pushing her half-eaten plate away.

Eudora frowns, glancing at Ceraphina and then at Soarynn, "You have Soarynn to keep you company dear. Your father hired her himself so you could always be taken care of."

Soarynn straightens up in her chair. This is no time to glower in her own self-pity. Her main priority is the children so until she goes home tonight, she's got to keep up her cheery persona. "Eudora is right, I'm always here to play."

"But you don't live here," Ceraphina points out, "Macy lived here. Remember Macy?" Celeste nods, taking a bite out of her bread roll, "Mhm. Macy had pretty red hair like Mommy."

Sorynn quirks a brow at Eudora and is met with a look she understands too well, 'I'll explain later'.

"I might not live here, but I'm going to be here from the moment you wake up to the moment you go to sleep," Soarynn assures her. Unless she gets fired tonight.

Celeste perks up, roll long forgotten, "Can you bring your cat?"

Eudora pulls a disturbed face which leads Soarynn to quickly shake her head, "I'm afraid Petunia is quite comfortable at home. She doesn't do well in cars."

Or around other people. Petunia is a one-woman cat.

"Finish up with your dinner if you want dessert," Eudora reminds the children, "then you all can go play before Soarynn helps you with your baths. I have to go over a few things with Soarynn."

The promise of dessert motivates the girls to finish the last few bites of their dinner while Soarynn helps cut Caspian's chicken into smaller bites, "Lenny," he says, placing his small hand on top of her large one. She gives him a small smile, "You can play with Lenny after dinner."

Dessert is a crowd favorite apparently, chocolate-covered strawberries. Soarynn used to beg for these as dessert when she was little so she's happy to see the children also get so excited to eat them.

"Let me wipe your mouth darling," Soarynn says, reaching out for Ceraphina's face. She's got chocolate all around her mouth and that just won't do. Celeste slides out of her chair and runs over to Soarynn, tilting her head up, "Clean my face too!" Soarynn chuckles softly and makes a big show of cleaning her face as well, even though Celeste doesn't have anything around her mouth.

"All clean," she announces.

Caspian is more interested in licking the chocolate off the strawberries rather than eating them whole bit he seems content so she doesn't bother him.

Soarynn watches the girls try to sit in the same chair, determined to sit with one another with a smile on her face. These children are so sweet. She hopes tonight isn't her last night with them.

꧁ ꧂

"Who's Macy?"

Soarynn watches Eudora's face carefully after asking a question she doesn't even really know about, but the girls do if they mention this mystery woman.

Eudora sighs, shaking her head, "Macy was the first nanny we hired after Livia died. She looked nearly identical to Livia because Coriolanus thought it would help the children. All it did was confuse them. And it didn't help that Macy was the complete opposite of Livia, always so kind and cheerful, just like you."

Soarynn frowns, glancing over at the children contentedly playing with dolls and blocks, "Livia wasn't nice?"

"Livia wasn't kind," Eudora corrects her, "anyone can be nice, it takes a special type of person to be genuinely kind and Livia didn't seem to ever possess that quality. She loved her children though, it's a shame she got sick."

"Was she...did they ever love each other?"

Eudora furrows her perfectly groomed eyebrows, "Coriolanus and Livia? No. Not truly that is. I think they loved the idea of each other which seems to be the case for this generation, running before they learn to walk, let alone crawl. They both loved their children though, it brought them together as a united front, and now he's all alone without a clue as to how to raise them."

Soarynn doesn't know much about love. She's never been in love herself. But she can imagine what it feels like, what it looks like. the Snow couple never looked to be truly in love. Maybe Eudora was right, they just loved the idea of each other and then Livia died, leaving him alone.

"Today people saw us at the zoo," Soarynn says slowly, playing with the fabric of her dress, "Lucky Flickerman was there and he said I looked like I could be their mother. And now I'm worried he's going to fire me," the last words tumble out of her mouth like a confession but she's glad to get it off her chest.

She had to tell someone before President Snow got back home tonight.

Eudora looks over at the children who've built some sort of zoo enclosure from the looks of it for their stuffed animals, not a care in the world. "I must admit, you certainly could be Ceraphina's twin, your eyes are identical. But Coriolanus isn't going to fire you over what Lucky Flickerman said, that man just found out you existed today and now he's got all sorts of opinions about you. Let people talk, all you need to do is focus on your job."

Soarynn sighs, nodding along to her words that do a great deal in comforting her, "I just need to keep them happy," she finishes, "nothing else matters."

And nothing does.

꧁ ꧂

Soarynn can not believe how much energy these girls have right before bed.

She put Caspian to sleep first since he was still tuckered out after his nap. He didn't even put up a fight which she was grateful for.

"It's time for bed," she says for the sixth time, picking up toys from the floor, "your father will be very upset if he comes home to find you two still awake."

The girls continue jumping on their bed, not paying her words any mind, "Daddy never gets upset with us," Ceraphina says, bumping into her sister, "and we're not tired." Soarynn places her hands on her hips, giving them a look, "Well I'm tired."

Celeste flops onto the bed, giving Soarynn a curious look, "How old are you?"

Soarynn puts the last of the toys away, closing the trunk, "I'm twenty years old." Sometimes she feels forty with back pain and aching knees. Other times she feels like she's ten years old again, not a clue to what she's doing with her life.

"You're young," Ceraphina says, hopping on one foot, "young enough to marry someone."

Celeste gasps, sitting up so fast that she knocks her sister down in the process, "You could marry Daddy!"

Ceraphina's face morphs from one of annoyance to one of agreement, nodding along to her little sister's plans, "Yes! Yes, you can have a big wedding and live happily ever after!"

Soarynn laughs, gathering her hair into her hands and twisting it into a braid, "Your father is far too busy to get married right now, especially to the nanny of his children," she says, poking at both of them to make them giggle. She succeeds and scoops them both up, swinging them around, "Now what story should I read tonight hmm?"

The girls shriek with excitement as they all spin around, "The jungle one!" Ceraphina cries, "The one with the lion!" Soarynn tosses all three of them back onto the mattress, letting them catch their breath, "Alright, I'll read that one but then it's bedtime alright?"

"Will you do the voices?"

"I'll do the voices."

Once Soarynn finally gets the girls settled and under the covers, she starts reading the story, doing her best animal impressions and there are a lot of animals in this book. But the girls must think she's doing a good job because she receives zero complaints throughout the whole story, not even a whine when she turns off the light.

"Have sweet dreams and I'll see you tomorrow," Soarynn whispers, cupping both of their faces with her hands. Ceraphina leans into her touch, her eyes growing heavy now that it's dark, "Thank you for taking us to the zoo today Soarynn."

Celeste yawns before cuddling up to her big sister, "Yeah, thanks for taking us."

Soarynn smiles fondly down at the girls, watching them fall asleep, "You're very welcome sweet girls," she whispers, quietly padding over to the doors.

She makes it out just in time to see President Snow coming out of Caspian's room. Her heart starts to beat a little faster when he walks towards her, his tie loosened and his curls unruly. He looks very handsome right now.

"They're asleep?" He nods at their bedroom doors. Soarynn nods then shakes her head, "Yes, well, no. I just put them down."

President Snow hums and pushes the doors open, slipping into the darkened room. Soarynn hears excited gasps and then the sound of him quieting them down. She peers in and sees him kissing them both goodnight, nodding when they show him their new stuffed animals. He gives their foreheads one last kiss each before rising back up to his full height.

Soarynn backs into the hallway, her hands clasped behind her back and her head lowered when he comes back out, closing the doors behind him. "How was the zoo?"

She glances up at him, he looks so intimidating from the outside, like he could break her into a million pieces and yet, he's so endlessly gentle and patient with his girls.

"It was good," she says, "Caspian kept roaring at the lions."

His lips twitch into what might be a smile but she's not too sure, "Ceraphina said you only let them get one stuffed animal."

Well, shit.

Soarynn is sure that his children are more than used to telling him about every interaction where they're denied something, and she can probably guess what happened to the people who were the cause of those upsets.

But she has to stand her ground the same way she did with Ceraphina. They're very alike, Ceraphina and her father.

"I did," she confirms.

He raises his eyebrows and he looks almost...impressed? No, that can't be possible. "You're the first nanny to ever tell her no to something. She's very used to getting her way."

I can tell, Soarynn thinks, "Is that a good thing?" She asks, tilting her head slightly. He lets out a breathy laugh, "Yes, it's a good thing. I can't have my children running around spoiled and demanding."

"They're not demanding," she quickly says, defending the children, "or spoiled. They're very sweet. It just seemed unseasonable to give them everything in the gift shop. Life doesn't always work that way, even if you want to protect them."

Her words seem to strike a nerve with the President because he frowns, "I have to protect them. They're all I have now that their mother is gone."

Soarynn knows how men like him think, how their children are more than flesh and blood. They're his legacy. Without them, his name, his work, his family will die alongside him. He'll do anything to keep them safe.

"I understand sir," she says softly, "and we were very safe today at the zoo. The children enjoyed it very much."

He nods, scratching the back of his neck, "Good. I'll have to let you take them more places then, they need the interactions with other people."

Soarynn stares down at her shoes, wondering how high of heels she'd need to wear to be at eye level with President Snow. He's so tall, so...overwhelming. She feels the same way she did in the stairwell earlier today, unsure of what to do.

"I'm sure they'd appreciate that," she finally says, giving him a polite smile. He stares her down for a second, his cold gaze analyzing her face which only makes her feel more self-conscious than before.

"You look just like your mother."

That just about knocks the wind out of her.

He's older than her, and old enough to remember her mother before she died in childbirth. Soaryn's heard it countless times, how she's the spitting image of her mother but she didn't expect him of all people to comment on it. Not here, not now.

She finally regains her composure and nods, "I've been told that before sir."

His eyes travel up and down her body, "I always thought your mother was beautiful, she was always kind to me. Do you think of yourself as kind Ms. Nightingale?"

"...it takes a special type of person to be genuinely kind..."

Eudora's words echo over and over in her head while she thinks of a suitable answer. She doesn't think it's possible to always be kind but she sure tries. She doesn't really have a reason not to be kind.

"I try to be sir."

"I think you might make my children kind."

"All children are kind, it's the adults around them who make them cruel."

Soarynn has seen it before, how sweet, kind children have been turned into monsters due to their upbringings and the influences around them. She won't let that happen to these children so long as she works as their nanny.

"Goodnight Ms. Nightingale."

"Goodnight sir."

Soarynn walks past him, her hands shaking and her breaths uneven. She's never been around a man as unnerving as President Snow but he probably prefers it that way.

The only time he lets a sliver of kindness show is when he's around his children for a mere hour a day.

What a terrible way to live.

| Part 2. |

| tumblr oneshot/drabble |

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creatingblackcharacters · 3 days

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Also gonna send my criticisms of The Walking Dead TV show's treatment of Black characters as a separate ask.

So, to put it simply. The Walking Dead show has a horrible tendency of killing off its Black characters. Like, to the point it's a semi-common joke/theory that they have a quota on how many Black characters they can have.

Spoilers for most of the TV show, continue at your own risk

At the start of the show, we have two Black characters; Jacqui and T-dog. Jacqui only appears in the first season (7 episodes). She had very little presence in the show, only showing up for brief dialogue or to guide the other characters. She dies comforting a (white) man, who she decided to not leave alone in his final moments.

T-dog lasts three seasons (22 episodes) and gets more time in the spotlight. He's quiet, compassionate, and very selfless, the kind of guy who spent the early days of the apocalypse transporting old people to safety in a church van.

He also gets called the n-word and is beaten horribly within the first few episodes by Merle (...who is widely loved by the fandom despite this). T-dog still attempts to save Merle's life later, as Merle was, himself beaten up and cuffed to a pipe after committing a hate crime.

Throughout most of the series he's a pretty regular good guy. He's resistant to hurting people (even in self defense), he helps out other survivors, very normal stuff.

Then he dies while saving another (white) character.

Then we meet Big Tiny, Andrew, and Oscar, a trio of Black prisoners. Big Tiny dies almost instantly. Andrew is killed by Oscar. Oscar is killed during a rescue mission for two other characters (one white).

Then we meet Bob! He's another normal, decent man, doesn't stand out much. Then he's bitten by a zombie and has his leg eaten by (mostly white) cannibals. Tyreese puts him out of his misery.

Tyreese and Sasha are a pair of siblings. Sasha survives for most of the show, Tyreese survives a couple seasons. He's strong, protective, quiet, and wise. He beats up zombies with a hammer, pretty cool.

He is bitten by a zombie and dies not long after a new Black character is introduced.

That brings us to Noah; he's polite, helpful, intelligent, and interested in architecture. He even builds a close friendship with another member of the main cast.

Then a white man sacrifices him to zombies to survives. And he just... kinda allows it so the other guy present can survive.

Let's not forget about Sasha. She gets a pretty long run on the show; she's loyal, practical, has strong morals, is a great leader, and is amazing with a gun. She even has a couple romance arcs... one with Bob (the guy who got eaten), and the other is a man who is violently beaten to death in front of her.

She commits suicide and becomes a zombie to avenge her second boyfriend (who was white), attempting to bite the man who killed him.

I'm sure you can see the pattern... Black characters die and are replaced by a shiny new Black character. When they die, it's often directly connected to a white character.

If I remember right... around three Black main characters made it to the end of the show.

In comparison, three of the four Telltale games put their Black characters front and centre (the third game stars a Latino man, but a Black girl is still the deuteragonist). These characters are varied, loved by their peers, people sacrifice for them, people want to save them.

Well I guess I have no interest in ever watching this, huh 🤣 my reactions

Jacqui: 🙄 of course

T-Dog: shoulda left dude stuck to that pipe. Let a zombie get him, even. How do you find time to be racist during a zombie apocalypse? Nah, I'd let him die. He better than me.

Big Tiny, Andrew, and Oscar: here one moment gone the next

Bob: poor Bob 😭

Tyreese and Sasha: no, Tyreese 😭

Noah: is Noah the one that was played by Tyler James Williams?? Where he got caught in the spinning door? Because I remember that shit! I remember being HORRIFIED bc omg that's 1) Chris and 2) WHY IS HE DYING?? 3) now im scared of revolving doors

Sasha: 🙄🙄🙄🤦🏾‍♀️🤦🏾‍♀️🤦🏾‍♀️🤦🏾‍♀️🤦🏾‍♀️ now Sasha. Girl.

That is too much lmao damn.

#creatingblackcharacters

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aroaessidhe · 23 days

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2024 reads / storygraph

The Loudest Silence

YA contemporary

a newly Deaf-Hard of hearing girl moves across the country and starts a new school, struggling with navigating her disability and love for singing and lost friendships - determined to not make any new friends for the year she’s in Florida

and a boy struggling with family expectations and anxiety, after being made the fútbal captain even though he secretly ways to be on broadway, who quickly befriends her

bi & aroace-coded MCs

#The Loudest Silence #aroaessidhe 2024 reads #hm this was okay! it’s a sweet and light YA contemporary focusing on friendship and disability.#It’s a little cheesy; and I liked the immediate easy friendship (well; after a few false starts) and how welcoming Hayden's #friend group/family were. I like how they all jumped to learning/practicing ASL.#I liked how Casey was dealing with her newfound Deafness with a lot of positivity - the main frustrations being how other people treat her #but there’s also the underlying isolation and grief. At the same time it didn't go as deep as it could have with that?#The friendship is central to the story - but honestly I feel like Casey and Hayden’s relationship doesn’t develop past ‘they’re friends now #[continues other subplots] - it ends up being a bit telling not showing their friendship. And then she gets a love interest.#I feel like if you’re centering your book on being a platonic love story - rare in YA! - giving one a love interest kinda goes against #what’s supposed to be unique about it? Like it wasn’t overwhelming and I thought it was sweet actually; I just didn’t come here for that.#I always find it a little odd when YA contemporary books don’t explicitly name their aroace characters as aroace -#obviously I prefer an exploration of experiences to just using the word and nothing else; but in this genre; why not both?#considering various other identity labels are used and discussed there were various points where it felt like it was walking circles #around where it would be obvious to say “no I’m aroace” lmao?#And there’s a point where Casey mentions seeing an ace sticker on his guitar - the only reason it wasn’t an aroace sticker is bc #that would have ruined the minor subplot of her assuming he’s gay/dating his other friend. It felt like a slightly odd way to mention it?#but also I guess I appreciate it being evident throughout but also being a non-issue plot wise - while there’s a couple of moments #of people making romantic assumptions about them;for the most part it’s just treated normally for a boy & girl to be friends (as it should!#It does get points for mentioning people watching by conan grey LMAO (not that it really explores him feeling that way specifically;#but I mean same lol)#Overall plot-wise - there were kind of a lot of things going on and it petered out a bit? I wanted some more depth in some areas.#Also I feel like some of the references seemed out of date for current teens haha.#i do love the love for unusual pets (hairless cat and iguana)#aroace books #bisexual books

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johndonneswife · 6 months

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someone really should be talking about how difficult it is to plan a wedding - a gay wedding - when both of your families fucking suck

#who is talking about this!!!! let me know #idk i have 0 expectations for my family but they still somehow always manage to let me down which #i was anticipating #and i didn’t think i would care because i have never cared before #but liiiiiike.#i wasn’t expecting to feel sad rofl but my family is so fucking flaky. again i KNOW THIS i know i cannot rely on any of them #it’s annoying when i have given them a year and a half to make plans and i have had so many people tell me they would be there #just to back out or ghost or come up with some excuse #like do you know how expensive weddings are 😭 JUST fucking be honest with me and rsvp no #anyway i was very intentional with the few family members i did invite #and specifically invited people i have a rapport with / had a good (ish lol) relationship with growing up #people i have bent over backwards trying to please!!! and dropping everything to help them out #and they can’t even be bothered to communicate with me lol it’s fine. like. i do feel like it’s internalized homophobia at this point #or maybe they have hated me this entire time which is totally plausible #but they KNOW how much ayesha means to me and knows that no one from her family is coming to our wedding #at the end of the day it’s going to be like. 5 people from my family 1 from ayesha’s (her brother) and like 30-40 friends #which i am so grateful for obviously #i sound like such a brat but it’s also like - watching your family continuously choose drugs/alcohol over showing up for you - lol #AGAIN i’m used to this and expected as much but i’m still feeling bad #just rsvp so i can move on with my life please. stop telling me you’re trying to make it work when we both know you aren’t #i have so much more to say but i’m going to sound crazy even though i knooooow it is homophobia like i Know it #i think there are certain people i will finally go no contact with for good after this #which is a freeing thought but i only invited v few family members to begin with. there’s abt to be no one left lmao #probably for the best #ugh whatever #again i can’t help but feel a certain way when they have done more/traveled further for relatives they hardly know #meanwhile i was forced to spend so much of my life living for these people and for them alone #AAAAAAAA i just want to scream #text

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blackandblueraven · 11 months

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My friend gave me for my birthday a heat changing mug... so I made him pins with his favourite character for his birthday.

#there was a joke between us about giving the gifts late #because he gave me a gift exactly one month after my birthday and then I gave him his gift late so we just continued giving them late #except the last one I made for him because it was the end of the school year and our last few days in high school #and he had birthday around that time so I gave it to him only a few days later I think #not sure anymore #I brought the mug with me to the dorms and I was just checking if it works so I tought of it #I guess I just wanted to tell it somewhere #he's a great friend we immediately clicked at the start of the first year #I guess some people thought we were dating? or like interested in each other? I can't speak from his pov but in mine it always was as frien #he later started to date our classmate and while I think we were friends and stuff she didn't really like me hanging out with him lol #I mean understandable. BUT he was literally the only person I knew who had very similar interests and sense of humour so I was #she knew about me not being interested in him. or at least I hope so #really just mostly showing him memes or news about the shows we both watched/enjoyed #you can tell I don't have anyone to talk to about these things lol #raven is typing #quite a lot today #also the character on the pins was actually a pet of one of the main characters (Angel Dust specifically. and the pet's name is Fat Nuggets

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damnyousubdermalirritants · 26 days

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UPDATE: NOVAVAX NOW AVAILABLE!!!

Hi everyone, it's been about a year since I posted about updated COVID vaccines and it's time for another update if you are in the US:

THE BRIDGE ACCESS PROGRAM IS ENDING!!!!

If you are uninsured or your insurance does not cover covid boosters, please schedule a new booster appointment before the end of August because the Bridge Access Program (the way the government will still pay for your booster) ends in September. The updated mRNA boosters from Moderna and Pfizer are available now. Go Go GO!!!

Shitty, I know! If you can call your congressional reps, the FDA, the CDC, whomever to tell them you want this program to continue/be reinstated, that would be great. Also, while you're at it, call the FDA to tell them to expedite the approval for the updated Novavax booster (3017962640).

The new Novavax vaccine is designed for the JN.1 strain which is one of the most recent mutations of the virus going around. If you have insurance and can afford to wait, I highly recommend getting the Novavax booster when it becomes available.

We are currently in the largest Covid summer surge since 2021

If you haven't had a booster in the past six months you are essentially unvaccinated. New strains with different spike proteins keep evolving faster than vaccine development and distribution can keep up. All that said, getting Covid is not a moral failing. If you do feel sick, take a rapid test! If it's negative, test again a day or two later. It is better to know than not to know. Here's a refresh on how to take a rapid test correctly:

If you do get Covid, it is worth getting on antiretrovirals within the first week of symptoms to reduce the overall viral load your body has to fight. If your insurance doesn't cover Paxlovid or Remdesivir, here are other low/no-cost ways to access it:

If you get sick, rest radically even after you stop testing positive on rapid tests. Avoid exercising for at least eight weeks after the fact to reduce the risk of developing long covid.

Regardless of your vaccination status, masking with a KN95 or N95 respirator (or equivalent standards in your country i.e. FFP2/3 in the EU) is the most reliable way to protect yourself and others. If Covid protections are a financial burden, there is likely an active Mask Bloc near you doing free distribution of respirators and tests that would be happy to help you. Here's a global map of them from covidactionmap.org

Some quick tips: if you're wearing a bi-fold mask, flatten the nose-bridge wire completely, then mold it to your nose on your face for a better fit. The best mask is the one that you will actually wear regularly to protect yourself. I really like the selection of styles, sizes and colors from WellBefore:

As school is starting, getting you and your family boosted is one of the best things you can do to protect yourselves. Masking is perhaps even more important. If you can advocate for updating and regularly changing the HVAC filters at your local schools to MERV-13 or higher to keep the indoor air cleaner, that can also make a big difference. Better indoor air quality in schools helps protect kids from illness, allergies, wildfire smoke, and more per the EPA's website.

These are steps you can take to improve air quality at home as well. Corsi-Rosenthal boxes are low-cost and highly effective for cleaning the air indoors.

Here's a map of clean air lending libraries for getting access to air purifiers for events from cleanairclub.org

#covid #covid 19 #signal boost #boost #long covid #vaccine #wear a respirator #indoor air quality #covid testing

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fastandcarlos · 1 month

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Paddock Naps : ̗̀➛ Lando Norris

summary: it's a dangerous game when lando falls asleep, but particularly when he finds himself falling asleep on you in the paddock

Your head shook as you glanced down at Lando beside you, his head falling further and further down. When you first let him rest in your lap you knew you were playing a dangerous game but you knew with how busy race days usually were there was no way that Lando was going to be able to rest with you for too long.

Little did you know though how much you were helping him in his mission to fall asleep. The way your fingers ran through his hair, or tickled against his waist all helped him to feel incredibly comfortable, perhaps a little too comfortable if you were a member of McLaren staff.

Time ran away with you tucked up in the hospitality lounge, but the sound of a figure coughing beside you soon made you look up, and immediately look back down.

Oscar’s head shook at the sight of the two of you, something he had gotten pretty used to seeing from you. “How has he managed to fall asleep already? It’s barely even one in the afternoon.”

“Who’s fallen asleep?” A second voice called out, your expression cringing as Daniel appeared up alongside Oscar.

You didn’t quite know where to look as Daniel’s eyes widened at Lando fast asleep, having to place his mouth over his hand to hold back his laughter and make sure that he didn’t disturb Lando with his laughter.

“You look very comfortable,” Oscar teased as your eyes met his, offering you a smile.

“He’s a pain,” you complained, feeling your legs get number and number the more time that passed. As much as you wanted to be annoyed at Lando for falling asleep on you, seeing him so content made your heart swell, knowing just how exhausted he was with the last of three consecutive races looming.

They all had their moments when they tried to get some peace and quiet, but you and Lando were unlike any other couple around the paddock. Other drivers could only admire how comfortable you were around each other, how little you cared about what others thought of you or how much you wanted to be around each other.

It was something that terrified you when you first started dating Lando, but he helped you to not worry about anyone else, training you out of worrying about all of the eyes on you.

“How long until your meeting?” You asked Oscar as he and Daniel took a seat in front of you to keep you company whilst you waited for Lando to stir.

“We’ve still got a little while yet, we don’t want to wake sleeping beauty up too early, otherwise we’ll never hear the end of it.”

Your hand gently brushed over the top of Lando’s head once again, tangling gently through his curls as you tried your best to tidy his hair up for him a little.

“You know he’ll wake up and still complain he’s tired,” you warned the two of them, “he won’t care about the fact that I won’t be able to feel my legs for the rest of the day.”

Daniel could only snigger as you spoke, “it’s his fault for having such a big head.”

You struggled to hold back your laughter, it was something that Lando told you constantly, but only now were you feeling the full weight of it weighing you down in your seat.

After a few minutes of light conversation between the three of you, a groan could be heard from your lap. All eyes looked down as Lando’s eyes fluttered open, grunting at the two men he saw sat in front of him, before glancing up at you.

“Nice to see you awake, it’s only the middle of the afternoon,” Oscar teased as he glanced down at his watch. “Nothing like a midday nap to prepare you for a race is there?”

The moment your eyes met Lando’s you could see how needed his rest was. He smiled softly up at him as he continued to wake himself up, shuffling slightly, much to your relief, as you finally managed to slightly move your legs.

“You really have no shame, do you?” Daniel couldn’t help but joke too. “Do you know how many people have walked into this room and just found you laid out there?”

Lando shot a glare in response to Daniel, stretching himself up before sitting up in the chair next to you where his feet had been laying, hearing a giggle come from you as you shook your own body awake too.

“You’re such a lump,” you smirked as Lando looked at what you were doing, watching as you shook your legs, finally feeling the movement come back into them.

An apologetic pout formed on Lando’s face as he shuffled closer towards you, resting his hand against your lap as his head came down to rest against your shoulder, still a little bit on the sleepy side of life.

“Don’t fall asleep again,” you warned, jolting your shoulder to keep Lando awake.

A frustrated sigh came from him, “why can’t you just let me sleep for the rest of the day?”

“Because we have this thing called work,” Oscar interjected, shaking his head at how dramatic Lando was. “I think Y/N has better things to do then let you throw yourself across her all day.”

You couldn’t see Lando, but you could imagine the glare that he was sending at Oscar, with Daniel chuckling next to him to add salt into the wounds for Lando.

“I hate all of you,” Lando confirmed, “I just want to rest, is that really so hard?”

You knew exactly what would happen if you let Lando sleep any longer. You’d been on the receiving end of Zak before when Lando had missed important team meetings, he trusted you to keep Lando in check and loved to tease you whenever you failed at that job.

“Come on sleepyhead, you can rest when we’re back at the hotel tonight,” you smiled, resting your head down on top of Lando’s. “I don’t think your bank account will want to pay the fine for another missed team meeting.”

A hum of agreement came from Lando as he reluctantly sat himself up, still staring at Daniel and Oscar as they continued to laugh to themselves at the scene they saw unfold before them.

“You wait, I’ll get you two back for this.”

“We’re just sat here, we’re not doing anything wrong.”

Lando looked to you for help, but you chose to stay quiet, knowing that Daniel and Oscar had kept you company for most of the time he slept, you couldn’t betray them by siding with Lando now.

Before Lando could snap back at them, the two of them excused themselves, Daniel ready to head to his meeting, Oscar keen to impress and make sure that he got to the McLaren office before Lando did and keep everyone on his side.

“I can’t wait to go home tonight,” Lando whispered across to you, sitting himself up again. “Thank you for letting me rest on you babe, I do feel a lot better after it.”

Your head nodded as your hands cupped either side of Lando’s face. “I promise as soon as you’re finished we’ll head out of here and get you to bed as soon as possible.”

Lando smiled appreciatively back across at you, resting his head into your left palm. He desperately wanted to stay with you forever, but he knew that he would never be allowed to do that.

“Go and be amazing and I’ll be here when you get back,” you encouraged, tapping Lando’s cheek as he reluctantly stood up from his chair. “If you get bored, just think about all of those cuddles we’ll have at the hotel tonight.”

Lando’s head nodded as he leaned down and pressed an appreciative kiss against the top of your head, brushing his hand through your hair. “Thank you for always being there for me, it means the world to me love.”

“You’re welcome Lan,” you whispered.

“See you soon, for the most incredible rest.”

˗ˏˋ 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 ! ´ˎ˗

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tired-biscuit · 3 months

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I licked it so it’s mine

pairing: stepbrother!yuuji/fem!reader

premise: After a long day of work, you decide to make use of the empty house by having some drinks and a movie night with your older stepbrother. Eventually, one drink turns into two, two become three, and so on. As the buzz of the alcohol progressively fills you with more and more courage, interesting things commence.

cw: 18+ MDNI. stepcest, ‘in the flurry of the moment’ setting, no curses AU, characters are in their 20s, intoxication, dubcon, implied corruption, coersion and pressuring from reader, descriptions of size difference, manhandling and roughness — poor yuuji gets a little too into it in the end.

wc: 6.7k

divider credit: @/adornedwithlight

———

Your big stepbrother Yuuji is likeable. He always has been.

To be fair, what is there not to like? When it comes to his looks, Yuuji is tall, handsome, a proud owner of a pair of pretty honey-coloured eyes that make him resemble a puppy, and an even prettier smile. Every summer, his skin gets this wonderful, almost golden tan that makes him outright glow from within, and his face gets sun-kissed, causing his already rosy cheeks to get dotted with tiny, barely visible freckles that gather under his eyes and only enhance his cuteness.

However, after living with him for so long, you’ve since learned that he rarely actually pays attention to his appearance, much less dresses to impress.

After all, Yuuji is a simple man. He does not care about clothes besides the level of comfort they provide, and yet he still somehow manages to achieve victory. Catching girls checking him out when he’s in nothing but his trusty pair of sweatpants and an old T-shirt is a common occurrence. Even listening to flustered whispers and giggles has turned into a regular thing at this point.

On top of all that, he’s also nice. Kind and open and warm – you could use so many more positive words to describe your stepbrother’s wonderful personality, but you’re pretty sure that they’d never do it justice. Perhaps the only bad thing you could say about him is that he’s too nice. Too helpful and giving.

Especially towards the people who don’t deserve it.

And as you watch him from the corner of your eye now, hanging out at the park and licking the ice cream that he’d treated you to as a reward for beating him in his favourite video game, you try to consider yourself as one of the people who do deserve his everlasting kindness. Who do deserve to be treated nicely by him, and to hear the laughter in his voice, and to accept his almost naive generosity.

It’s a nice day out today. The wooden park bench that you’re sitting on currently is warm from the setting sun that still filters through the leaves above your heads. Small, moving patches of light and shadow linger everywhere, causing you to stare, almost mesmerized, as some of them lazily continue to dance across your big brother’s face.

Yuuji’s arms are splayed wide open and draped on either side of the worn backrest that you’re both leaning against. He’s finished his ice cream ages ago, so now he’s got his legs outstretched and his head angled up towards the sky, enjoying the peaceful tranquility that this year’s summer brings.

There are quite a few people out and about in the park during this time of day – most of them joggers and dog walkers that are using the slightly cooler temperatures to their benefit – but if you listen closely, you can make out distant shouting and laughter coming from a group of children who are occupying the playground that’s on the other side of the trees.

The sound makes you feel kind of old, so you zero in on your sandals to keep yourself busy.

“Remember when you used to scream like that?”

“What?”

When you turn your head to the side again, Yuuji’s gaze looks expectant.

“Back when we were kids,” he explains, jerking his chin towards the direction of the playground. “You got all shrieky and high-pitched whenever it was my turn to chase you, remember? Made you sound like a deflating balloon just by running in your direction.”

“Oh!” You take another lick of your ice cream, fully flattening the scoop before sinking your teeth into the edge of the cone. The scent of strawberries fills your nose in an instant. “In my defense, that probably happened because I didn’t like playing tag with you all that much.”

He quirks an eyebrow at this, intrigued. “How so?”

“Well, for starters, your legs were longer than mine, which made you catch up so fast that it wasn’t fun for me anymore. Aaand your hands were also always sticky for some reason,” you reply, still chewing on the wafer. “It was gross.”

“Wow, okay.” He rolls his eyes but it immediately gets followed by a brief chuckle that escapes his lips. “Excuse me for trying to be a little bit sentimental with my clean freak of a baby sister.”

“I’m normal… You’re just nasty,” you fire back, smiling when he goes to playfully shove you.

His hand is warm when it lands on your shoulder; so warm, in fact, that you can feel the rise in temperature even through the sleeve of the thin, cropped T-shirt that you’ve put on this morning.

It doesn’t take you by surprise. For as long as you’ve known him, Yuuji has been one to have blood as hot as molten lava running through his veins. You’re unsure how he survives it whenever the weather is scorching hot, like today for example – August has always proved to be a bitch whenever it comes to heat – but so far he seems to be doing just fine.

And while it may be weird to some, him being hot-blooded is the reason why you sometimes like to drag him into your bed during the winter months, when it’s cold and you come back home from work feeling like your toes have turned half-frozen in your shoes. Besides being provided with good company, he’s also like your own personal heater.

And that’s it. There’s nothing else to it; how could it be when he’s your stepbrother, for crying out loud! You grew up together and have lived under the same roof for years. He’s walked into your room just to leave the lights on and the door open so many times. You’ve endured his godawful Fortnite phase and have seen him be at his worst just as he did with you. The only feelings that you harbour for him are strictly platonic.

You’re both pretty set on that.

“I should take that ice cream from ya as a form of punishment for being so mean to me,” said stepbrother teases now, pulling you back from your thoughts. When you look up at him, he’s grinning like a little boy. From ear to ear and in a way that makes his eyes crinkle at the corners.

Cute.

“Nu-uh,” you respond, allowing the evidently distrustful tone to lace your voice. “I licked it so it’s mine.”

“Tsch.” He clicks his tongue against his teeth. “Like that’s ever been an issue before. C’mon, give.”

“It is for me because unlike you, I’m not- Hey!” Before you can finish your sentence, he swipes the ice cream from your hand, successfully stealing it right in front of your nose.

You glare at him now, brow slightly furrowed in annoyance, as Yuuji proceeds to lick the melting sweet with exaggerated delight. Since whatever was left of the scoop sank deeper into the cone, you realize that you’re unexpectedly intrigued by the fact that he needs to push his tongue out a little more to get to it.

And he does; of course he does. He twirls it across the flat, creamy surface, and it’s not long before the inside of his mouth is coated in milky pink and there’s a hum of overly satisfied approval sounding from the back of his throat.

You’re unsure how to feel about the entire thing, but you definitely don’t dwell on it.

“Mmm,” he purrs, squeezing his eyes shut. He even makes sure to go as far as to smack his lips. “Mmm-mmm-mm! So good.”

For whatever reason, you feel your stomach do a weird spin as you listen to the sounds he’s making now. It’s like there’s an instant flash of heat searing through your body, similar to the pesky one that you get in the middle of the night when you’re hormonal and on your period, but before you can even properly acknowledge it, it’s gone as fast as it came.

“Again: you’re so gross,” you manage to say with a huff that’s supposed to be disapproving but doesn’t sound like that at all. The shake of your head that you add to the jab also feels somewhat unnatural. Every one of your mannerisms does, actually.

Yuuji, seemingly blissfully ignorant of your inner turmoil, laughs before he takes a giant bite out of the side of the cone and finally hands it back to you.

“Hey, at least my hands ain’t sticky this time.”

———

The house is empty when you come back home that evening.

This too is not much of a surprise, really. Your parents have been gone for the last couple of days, enjoying their yearly vacation to the seaside that neither you nor Yuuji could attend this time because of your work schedules.

So while your mom and his dad are basking in the sun and drinking sugary cocktails, you’re waking up at six in the morning every day to make it to your dull desk job in time, and he’s stuck flipping burgers at McDonalds and honing his social skills in the drive-through booth for eight hours every day.

Poor, poor you.

“Did you see the drinks they’re having over there? Gosh,” Yuuji grumbles on this exact topic as he throws himself onto the couch and flicks the TV on. His expression looks mildly conflicted at the list of movies he’s being offered by the streaming service you’re both leeching off of, but it eases back into neutral as soon as he rests his feet atop the coffee table and crosses his ankles. “They even had those fancy umbrellas on the top and everythin’.”

“There, there,” you say, quickly patting his knee before sitting down beside him. You’re not sure why, but you pay extra attention to the small sliver of distance that you keep between his leg and your own now. The feeling from earlier didn’t fully go away yet, so touching him or him touching you still feels kind of odd.

Meanwhile, Yuuji doesn’t seem to acknowledge it at all, because now he’s resting his head against your shoulder, invading your personal space whilst he pouts.

The action is nothing unusual for him – it’s normal, he does it all the time – and yet you still swallow thickly, trying to ignore the sudden hyper awareness.

“What is it now, you big baby?” you manage to muster out, taking the remote from him.

“Eh… It’s nothing,” he says.

“Aha,” you say.

“Well… It’s just that I want nachos and cocktails with fancy umbrellas, too!” he bristles at your prodding, pressing the side of his face even further into your shoulder. His hair tickles your cheek because of it.

“We have nachos at home,” you utter, trying to avoid the ticklish sensation.

“Yeah. Shitty tortilla chips that come in a bag, with a side of tasteless dip from the fridge,” he quips. “Yum.”

You stifle your laughter. He’s making such a big deal out of a silly thing like nachos. “I’m pretty sure they all come in a bag, Yuu… Come to think of it, theirs are probably stored in one of those big, wholesale bags that most food places get.”

“Well, I want the wholesale ones, then.”

“You’re pretty set on this, huh?”

He just gives you a look.

“Okay, okay, okay,” you ramble, pulling back just enough to make him lift his head and look at you properly. “How about… we try to make semi-decent nachos and cocktails with what we have, and have ourselves a little movie night since we’re both off work tomorrow and we definitely deserve it after all the pain and suffering we’re going through?”

Yuuji muses. “All you do at your job is sit behind a desk all day.”

You feel your eyes narrow. “So?”

“So,” he says, sounding smug. “I’d hardly call that pain and suffering.”

“Oh, I’m sorry,” you chide. “I wasn’t aware that your job also consisted of crawling underneath barbed wire and coming face to face with excruciating death between all those burgers you flip.”

He pokes you in the side for the insult. After jumping a little bit at the ticklish sensation, you make sure to immediately return the favour.

“Do you want those cocktails or not, Ronald McDonald?”

Yuuji stretches his arms above his head and yawns before he gets ready to stand up. “Yeah, yeah… Let’s make ‘em fancy.”

He follows you into the kitchen then, where you both work to recreate the vacation food and drinks to the best of your – and your pantry’s – capabilities.

The nachos end up being surprisingly decent after you sprinkle some shredded cheese on top and give them a spin in the microwave. The cocktails, on the other hand, are a mixture of cheap wine from the corner store and coke, adorned with pieces of sliced pineapple at the top because you sadly ran out of cute paper umbrellas, much to Yuuji’s disappointment.

Though in the end, everything works out just fine.

You have yourselves a nice, perhaps you could even call it relaxing kind of evening. You change into your comfortable pyjama shorts and tank top, he gets rid of his T-shirt because he prefers being shirtless during the summer, and you play a couple rounds of his favourite game again; all of which you lose because Yuuji decides that he isn’t holding back this time. Afterwards, you watch a movie that isn’t all that good necessarily, but isn’t half bad either, and take rather hefty sips of your makeshift cocktails.

By the time the credits start to roll, you’re both feeling a little buzzed and warm in the face. Neither of you feels like calling it a night just yet, though – being off work the next day at the same time happens so rarely, after all – so you decide on watching something equally as uneventful and drinking some more.

So that is how both yourself and Yuuji end up drinking more than you’d initially planned. The alcohol becomes easier to swallow down when you’ve already numbed out your taste buds and have adapted them to the cheap, shitty wine flavour. It even makes the pineapple slices look cool.

And now you’re both drunk. Not shitfaced, per se, but definitely more than tipsy. Enough that it’s making your vision a little bit blurry around the edges, your limbs soft and pliant, and your mind fuzzy. Enough that it’s making you feel like you could do just about anything you’d set your mind to.

You’re both giggling like morons as you sit cross-legged and face each other on the couch. He’s desperately trying to tell you a story about one of his co-workers, who, according to him, is supposed to be very weird, but he keeps on slurring his words and keeps on losing track so often that it’s making the entire thing outright incomprehensive.

“Dude-” Your voice falters as yet another set of giggles pushes its way out. Goddamn alcohol. “You have got to stop laughing and tell me whatever it is you want to tell me about this weirdo, because if you don’t, I swear to god that I’m going to fucking lose my shit.”

“Listen… Jus’ listen-”

“I am listening, you dumbass!” you interrupt, reaching over to flick his forehead. He flinches at the action.

“No, but like,” he mumbles now, rubbing the aching spot. “I want to tell you, but at the same time… I kind of don’t.”

This instantly succeeds in sparking your interest. There’s something he’s unsure about telling you? How curious; you tell each other everything!

You lean forward slightly, resting your elbows on your knees. “How so?”

Yuuji’s eyes flicker towards the television for a quick second. The movie is still playing – it bathes half of his face with light and the other half in shadows.

Much to your bafflement, he sheepishly bites his lip before he says, “‘Cause it’s a secret.”

“A secret? Really?” You groan as you grab the small decorative pillow just so that you can throw it his way. Despite his intoxicated state, he’s still rather quick to deflect it. It lands on the ground soundlessly.

“What was that for?” he asks now, trying not to laugh.

“Oh, I dunno,” you say, bristling. “Did it maybe ever cross your mind that telling me that is only gonna make me want to hear it more?”

“I mean,” he says, scratching the back of his head and shrugging. “I guess…?”

You give him a pointed glare. “You know how much I love secrets, Yuu!”

“I know.”

“Then tell me!”

“No.”

You pout in answer, clearly unsatisfied.

Yuuji looks at you, his expression slipping into something that’s a bit more sincere and apologetic. He watches as you continue to avoid eye contact and push out your bottom lip, clearly trying to appear upset as much as you possibly can in order to get him to change his mind.

Sooner or later, it ends up working.

A person like him is so giving… Who is he to ever tell you no?

“Oh, fine,” he says, sighing with defeat. “Just pinky promise that you won’t tell anyone, okay?”

Your grin is pleasantly lazy because of the alcohol that’s still coursing your veins as you chirp, “Of course.”

He hooks your pinkies together and shakes them from side to side lightly as if it’ll help solidify the promise better.

“So, what’s the secret?” you ask when you pull your hand back and use it to support your cheek.

After a short moment of silence, he finally forces himself to blurt out, “My co-worker, he, uh… He thinks you’re hot.”

You stare at him, arching one eyebrow. “Wait, that’s it?”

Yuuji can feel his entire face tingling with heat now. The blush that steadily continues to bloom makes his skin slightly itchy, but he refrains from scratching it. “Yeah, that’s it.”

You watch him closely.

“What?” he inquires, not liking the fact that you aren’t saying anything. The flush of red has crept down to his neck now.

“You’re lying,” you reply at long last, expression blank.

He sputters when he inhales a sharp breath, ready to defend himself. “Am not!”

You throw another pillow at him. He avoids this one, too. “Are too!”

“Stop throwing stuff at me!”

“I will, if you tell me the secret!”

“I already did!”

“The actual secret, dumbass!”

“Fine… Fine! Ugh,” he groans, scrubbing a hand over his face. “He also said that, umm…”

You enthusiastically gesture at him to continue when his voice fades into nothing again. Curiosity is threatening to eat you alive at this point. “Yes? He said what?”

“He said-” His Adam’s apple bobs in his throat as he swallows thickly. “He basically told me that if you were his stepsister, that he would’ve been all over you ages ago. Or whatever.”

You stare at him once more. He stares right back.

“What?” he asks again, this time slightly more nervous. His pupils are huge and the blush is starting to make him sweat. “What is it?”

After a moment that seems like forever, you repeat, “...That’s it?”

Yuuji feels like his heart has dropped to his ass. “What d’you mean that’s it?!”

“Exactly what I said,” you say, shrugging. “Your co-worker has a ‘Oh no, stepbro, I’m stuck’ fantasy. So what?”

“I-” Yuuji’s eyebrows draw so tightly together until there’s a small v etched between them. He pauses for a long time before he says, “Don’t you think that’s weird, though?”

“Not really.” You take another small sip from your glass and place it back onto the coffee table. “I mean, have you never noticed how popular it is in porn? Lots of people are into that kind of stuff.”

“N-no…” He stutters, somehow succeeding in turning even redder in the face. “I don’t-”

“Watch porn?” you offer quickly, already rolling your eyes.

“Not porn like that,” he quips, suddenly sounding uncharacteristically snippy.

You chuckle at the tone he uses, attempting to tame the upward curl of your lips. Things are getting interesting and dirty – something you don’t get to encounter a lot whenever it comes to golden boy over here. “Well, what kind of porn do you watch, then?”

Oh, that is very bold. If it weren’t for the liquid courage, you doubt you’d dare ask the question. But it’s out in the open now.

Hanging in the tense air that’s between you two. Waiting. Preying.

“Not the stepsister kind,” he says in a low mutter, surprising you that he even chose to answer. “I’m not into that.”

You can’t help but let the smile show now. “How can you know if you’ve never seen it?”

Yuuji gawks before letting out a nervous laugh. “...What?”

“I said,” you repeat, leaning ever so slightly closer. Enough to make him feel on edge, but not enough to scare him away. “How can you know that you’re not into it-” There’s another pause, another closing of distance. His freckles are visible now. “If you’ve never seen it? Hmm?”

“I just-” He tenses up when your knee bumps into his. The short moment of contact is electrifying for some reason; it jumpstarts his heart into a far quicker rhythm. “I just, uh, do.”

You look him directly in his sweet honey eyes. “Yeah?”

And he immediately rushes to break eye contact. “Yeah.”

“You know,” you trail off innocently, patting his knee this time instead of ‘accidentally’ bumping it. Unlike before, though, your hand remains on his leg. “For someone who swears up and down to not be into it… You really don’t sound so sure about it to me.”

“Well, I am,” he protests in a heartbeat, however the bite that’s supposed to be in the statement isn’t quite there.

The reason behind it might be because he’s quite tipsy and can’t bring himself to be firm with you. Or maybe, just maybe, it’s because he’s staring at his lap when he says it; right at the spot where you’re still touching him.

Your hand feels so warm as it sits on his thigh. And pleasant.

He doesn’t exactly… want it to go away.

You watch as he huffs in defeat and shakes his head with evident frustration the thought must have evoked. It causes a giggle to bubble up your throat from how entertained you are. You don’t even try to stop it this time.

He could tell you off, call you names, push you away, whatever… But he doesn’t.

No, he’s just too good of a big brother.

So you allow the flat of your palms to rest on both of his knees now. Still careful, though not nearly as much as before. Meanwhile, your own knees dig into the softness of the couch as you readjust your weight forward so that you can lift yourself just enough to be eye level with him.

Guilty anticipation pools inside his gut and turns him frazzled when you use the momentum to invade his personal space even further. All of a sudden, you find yourself nose to nose with your cutesy stepbrother. Chest to chest. So close that he can feel the heat of your breath on his lips and smell the fading scent of your perfume mixing with thin layers of sweat and sunscreen.

“Prove it, then,” you say. Your voice could barely be considered above a whisper but the silence that follows after it is so loud.

Yuuji gulps from how unnerving this entire situation has become. Gulps. “Prove… Prove what?”

“Prove that you’re not into it.”

Thump, thump, thump! His heart is going wild. “How?”

“Watch it with me.” You move your hands upwards ever so slightly as you speak the words, but it’s not long before you’re sliding them all the way up to his thighs.

They’re strong, his legs, and the muscles in them flex and harden underneath your touch, making the lines of his gorgeous, so profoundly male-like physique all the more defined. The hairs there are lighter in colour and they’re silky smooth. They tickle the tips of your fingers when you finally let them settle at the very edge of his gym shorts.

Digging your nails into his skin just enough to make him jump a little, you add, “Please?”

God, you’re so drunk and… something else. Your pupils are huge; so big that Yuuji swears he can see himself in them, and the laugh you let out a moment later is girlish and kind of breathless.

And he, well, he just looks so goddamn confused in response to it. Like a little puppy that’s been caught doing something naughty and bad. Big, round eyes, twitchy upper lip and everything.

“I, umm… I dunno,” he chokes out finally. He feels like coughing so that he can clear his throat, but he somehow manages to stifle the annoying sensation. “I just… I’m not so sure about that-”

“Pleeease, Yuuji,” you repeat, pushing, pushing, pushing. You even start pouting right at him as a means to get him to budge. “I wanna!”

Fuck.

The whine that’s appeared in your voice now makes his cock involuntarily twitch. What the actual fuck, his dick is responding to you – his baby sister. Little by little, blood is rushing south; right below his waistline until he can feel warmth slowly taking over every inch of his lower half. He tries to make it stop, to put an end to it, to slow it down at the very least, but his efforts prove to be completely useless.

His throat feels scratchy and dry now from not allowing himself to cough, and his skin feels too tight on his face. It makes him rasp as he says, “You, uh, you wanna?”

“Mhmm,” you purr in a mere instant, squeezing his thighs again just the tiniest bit. Goddammit, since when did those parts start feeling so fucking sensitive? “Wanna… wanna see you start sweating a little when you realize that your dick is getting hard over dirty shit like stepcest, you know? Wanna prove you wrong.”

A second twitch, a second rush of blood. Yuuji’s stomach spins and tightens with anxiety. His nerves go haywire. With each passing second, he can feel his cock getting heavier in his shorts. Can feel pre-cum turning the front of his underwear more and more sticky. Can feel his mind going dizzy with quick-paced lust.

You’re just so goddamn close. Staring right at him, with your tits almost on full display in that tiny thing you call a shirt, and with that infuriating, shit-eating smirk plastered on your lips. Kneeling right between his legs, talking about stepbrothers fucking stepsisters, allowing your breaths to intermingle as if it’s no big deal.

But that’s not all. Besides being too close for comfort, he’s also pretty sure that you’re quietly hinting at the possibility of something happening tonight, like letting him stuff your pussy with his cock. Hell, forget stuffing – even just seeing it would be nice.

Not that he’s ever thought about laying eyes on his sister’s cunt, much less filling it, but now that this entire thing is unfolding in real time, before his very eyes, and he swears that he can feel the tips of your fingers subtly brushing against the ridge of his hard-on over his clothes… He doesn’t feel like refusing the idea necessarily, if it were to actually happen.

Fuuuck!

“It-it won’t,” Yuuji stammers in one last attempt at keeping his sense of morality, however all he does is end up fumbling over his own damn self like some pathetic loser. He’s so red in the face, it’s obvious now. “I, ah, I already told you-”

His sentence gets interrupted by a sudden kiss that you press right onto his still half-open mouth.

You don’t know what exactly it is that compels you to do it, but here you are. Kissing your big brother. Latching yourself to him. Offering him things you shouldn’t.

Oh, here you are, all right.

The kiss itself is clumsy, rash, idiotic. Your teeth clash as you hurry forward to wrap your arms around his neck, and there’s a small, muffled noise – that terribly sounds like a squeal of excitement – escaping your lips when his big hands find your waist and he yanks you forward until you’re fully seated on his lap.

One second ago you were merely looking at each other, tip-toeing the line but never quite overstepping it, and now you’re grinding against one another like animals in heat, tangling tongues and tasting each other’s spit. Everything happens so fast and it’s all based on pure instinct and executed with zero thinking, because if it happened any other way, you’d surely regret it.

He tastes like pineapple and the lousy chewing gum that he bought back at the corner store earlier in the afternoon but spat out pretty soon after. You shouldn’t find the odd combination of flavours that good, you know this, but right now the inside of his mouth tastes like sweet, sweet heaven.

And possible release.

“Fuck, Yuu,” you pant between messy kisses, running your fingers along his undercut. “You’re so hard, look… Proves me right, mm?”

Yuuji wants to tell you to shut up, to stop saying things like that, to stop making him feel both so guilty and turned on at the same time because it’s complicated and he doesn’t fucking know what to make of it.

But all he ends up saying instead is, “Yeah...”

Because, as always, he’s simply too good of a big brother. Too good to tell you no.

Especially when you’re right.

And even if your big brother’s cock is hiding underneath several layers of clothing, you can still feel it pressing firmly between your legs now. Thick and heavy and in urgent need of some tender affection; a little sisterly love, if you will. It’s making you grow more and more expectant of what’s to come. There’s no space for shame left.

His size seems promising – at least judging by the feel of it. Each time you push your weight against him, circling your hips a little, he responds by pushing you down even further with the help of his hands on your hips; spreading your folds slightly apart and allowing the seam of your shorts to dig straight into your clit.

Your breathing grows laboured because of it. Slowly but surely, you’re becoming a hot mess of mm’s and ahh’s. And Yuuji, poor, sweet Yuuji, is nowhere near to being any better after he’s forced to hear all of it.

He’s sweating like crazy. Is throbbing between his legs. Is trying to tame his pulse but it just keeps on hammering and ringing inside his ears. The blush is making his entire face itch all over again and his clothes feel too tight on his body. What else is there?

Oh, even his heart feels like it’s jammed itself inside his throat when he pulls back just enough to break the string of saliva that’s bridging the narrow space between your mouths and asks, “You sure you wanna do this?”

“Just fuck me already, god,” you hiss in response. You’re so sexually frustrated that it’s making you pissy.

Neither of you has planned this nor expected this to happen, but you’ve both been feeling lonely, terribly single; are yearning to be touched. It’s been a while for the two of you, shit happens and people get too busy to enjoy the simpler pleasures in life, and you both consider the other to be attractive, so… why not?

Why not? Maybe because this entire thing could, quite possibly, be a disaster in the making.

Still, it doesn’t feel like a disaster when Yuuji’s hands wrap around your sides and slam you down on the couch. Doesn’t feel like a bad thing when he blindly hooks his fingers to the waistband of your shorts and you bring your legs closer to your chest and lift your hips a little so that he can tug them off easier.

Either he’s too impatient to wait or he did it by complete accident, but he manages to pull down your panties right along with your shorts. They’re both left dangling from your left ankle now, hanging uselessly and completely forgotten because he’s too busy trying to push himself inside you.

His back is hunched and his rosy lips are parted as he sucks in and exhales sharp breaths above you. They fan your forehead, cooling the sweat that’s gathered there, only causing you to shiver.

You press your foreheads together when you lift yourself slightly with the help of your elbows so that you can reach between you, tug his waistband low just enough to expose him and guide him inside you. He grits his teeth, baring them like a threatened animal as soon as your fingers curl around the base of his cock, mindlessly stroking the impressive length, spreading the pre-cum that’s gathered at the tip without any sense of patience.

Neither of you looks into each other’s eyes; all of your attention is aimed at the spot where you almost connect. After all, his fat cockhead is bumping against your sticky pussy now, inconsistently gliding up and down and smearing arousal. Every time he teases your entrance, your breath hitches in the back of your throat and you cling onto him a little harder.

“Yuujiii,” you whine, teeth sinking into your bottom lip so harshly that you fear you might have drawn blood. He almost doesn’t recognize the sound of your voice. “What’re you waiting for?! Put it iiin!”

“Yeah… Y-yeah, okay,” he bites out, trying to stop the persistent flutter of a muscle in his cheek. His arms feel like giving in but the muscles in his biceps still flex and shudder with anxiety and anticipation when he finally presses in.

His cockhead pushes past the initial ring of muscle pretty effortlessly from how wet you’ve gotten from mere kissing and a little bit of grinding. Perhaps it’s the alcohol that’s making you so pliant and eager, but it’s easy to open your legs wider so that you can let in even more of him.

Yuuji feels dizzy; like the entire world is spinning. You’re underneath him, panting so loudly and you’re so warm inside, so accepting, so wet. Your pussy hugs him just right, walls squeezing around his girth, sucking him in further. The sensation makes him drop his entire weight right on top of your writhing body the second he allows himself to slowly rock into you and sink balls deep.

He hides his face into the crook of your neck as he begins to lazily thrust inside you, doing whatever feels best because he can’t possibly bring himself to form thoughts right now. In and out, the strokes are long, slow and deep. So deep, in fact, that they make you wince each time he hits the sweet spot that’s hiding inside.

You’ve ended up so close yet again; with your limbs intertwined and your bodies pressed tightly together that your shirt is crinkling between you. It rides up with the movement of his hips slamming against your own, exposing your stomach, making you stick to each other from how sweaty you’ve gotten.

“Nngh… You feel… s’good,” he grits out, quiet moaning already lacing his voice. His breathing has gotten so heavy that it’s creating moisture on the small patch of skin on your neck that he’s got his mouth pressed against. “Won’t last long… Ca-ah… Can’t.”

He sounds so fucking drunk as he continues to say pure nonsense into the side of your throat and keeps on pressing you into the softness of the couch. Not only on alcohol, but also on your pussy it seems.

It makes him practically start pounding into you now. Abusing your tight little hole. He slips one arm underneath you and pulls you even closer so that he can steady himself a little bit, and wetness squelches between you as a result. Skin slaps against skin, breaths intermingle. His fingers tangle into your hair crudely – it hurts when he tugs at the roots even if you’re well aware that he doesn’t mean to.

He’s so big above you. So strong. So stupidly male. And he’s also gotten lost in the moment. For a second it makes you scared of him a little bit even if he’s the sweetest man you’ve ever met, a real proper marshmallow. And it doesn’t help that his cock is as big as the rest of him is; stretching you so deliciously, splitting you wide open, causing tears to prickle at the corners of your eyes even if the booze that’s coursing your veins is supposed to numb you out to a size like that.

“Yuuji, wa- fuck, wait…!” You cross your ankles at his waist in an attempt to slow him down, heels panically digging into his back dimples and toes curling.

“N-no, I can’t, please… Don’t make me wait, please, please, please, c’mon,” he babbles, still not slowing down, not stopping. His eyes are half-closed and they show concern, but they’re also dark and foggy when he lifts his head just enough to look at you. “Just a lil’ more, yeah…? Yeah? Just a lil’... Ugh, keep still just a bit longer- I’m almost there. So… mmh… close.”

You try to fight against him, tugging on his hair and sinking your nails into his back, but all he does is endure it, not really caring much about your thrashing and turning. He’s got you caged underneath him, crying out his name, clawing raw red lines into his broad back. It’s all drunken breeding instinct and no brain as he uses your body like a toy, and the realization that you can do nothing but take it is terrifying as much as it is thrilling.

His pounding has turned borderline ruthless by now and in his urgency to cum, he’s pushed himself so deep inside you that you’re pretty sure he’s fucked his way straight into your goddamn womb. In his weak attempt to make you last until the end, he’s even started to messily rub irregular circles into your clit.

It makes a thin line of drool dribble down the corner of your mouth from how fucked out you’ve become in a mere fifteen minutes. The overstimulation is probably completely accidental, but it achieves the same result just the same. He outright forces the climax out of your body, and the second he feels you squeeze around him, abused pussy trying to milk him dry, he’s giving in, not resisting anymore, shooting his load inside you in an instant.

The groan he lets out is almost like a growl. He arches his back again, balls tightening, grip almost turning iron-like. You can feel the warmth of his cum as it fills you in steady waves of pleasure.

You both stay still for a long while after that, trying to gather your senses, attempting to calm down your trembling. His cum is warm and sticky; tacky between your thighs. It starts to drip out of your hole by the time his cock softens enough to create more space.

There’s just so much of it. A fuckload.

And he’s still breathing so hard. You both are.

“I’m so sorry… Fuck, I-” he rasps out. His mouth is so dry that he feels like he could chug an entire jug of water, but he pushes that need away for now in order to get a good look at you instead. “I just- I-”

Yuuji stops mid-sentence when he sees you push two of your fingers between your legs before bringing them up in front of your face again. He watches, eyelids heavy, as you spread them then, toying with the glimmery, cloudy white substance that’s gathered there until you gently push them inside your mouth, licking his release right off of your fingertips.

His jaw almost hits the floor. He’s so baffled by what he’s just seen that he barely registers the fact that his cock is trying to get hard again, throbbing against his thigh.

“What?” is all you say in response to the incredulous look that sits on his face now. Your voice is muffled from the way you keep your mouth stuffed full.

“I licked it so it’s mine.”

#yuuji x reader #yuuji smut #yuji x reader #yuji smut #jjk x reader #jjk smut #yuuji itadori smut #cw stepcest #cw dubcon #biscuit fics

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ozarkthedog · 1 month

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𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐝𝐚𝐲 𝐥𝐨𝐧𝐠

summary: Logan fucks you with one of his cigars.

pairing: Logan Howlett x afab!reader

warnings: 18+ mdni. smut. object insertion -> unlit cigar. don't try this at home. wc: 509

an: welp, here i am, writing about object insertion once again. first time writing Logan despite pining for him since 2000. thanks to @missredherring for having no qualms about being fucked with a cigar. you're a real one.

𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐋𝐢𝐬𝐭 ⋅ 𝐅𝐢𝐜 𝐍𝐨𝐭𝐢𝐟𝐬

Logan lands a heavy thumb on your clit and swirls the tiny button producing an excess of slick from your glistening sex. "Want 'er nice n' wet." He brazenly informs while puffing on a lit cigar nestled between his lips.

Earlier, he tempted you into his bedroom with a grin; you didn't notice the new box of cigars tucked under his arm. He softly commanded you to lie on his bed and to hold your legs apart.

"I wanna try somethin'."

You should've known how this would turn out when he stood between your thighs and brought one of the fresh cigars to his nose, smelling it like a predator catching whiff of wounded prey.

He teases the head of an uncapped cigar along your puffy, slick opening and slowly drags the blunt end up and down, making sure to gather as much sticky arousal as he can before pushing into your warmth. "There ya go, you can take it."

The pressure is noticeable as it glides across your velvet walls. The cigar is as thick as one of Logan's fingers and grazes all the right spots as he languidly fucks you with it. "Wanna taste ya all day long."

Your stomach cramps at the thought of how inappropriate it was to be fucked with such an object, not to mention the fact that Logan would be puffing away on your pussy soaked cigar in front of people.

"Come on, kid. Drench it." Logan commands, making your cunt clench hard as he rubs tight, steady circles around your clit and forces you to come with no chance of denial.

He husks immoral praise while he continues to thrust the cigar deeper, staining it with your arousal until you try to clamp your thighs together and push at his forearms, overwrought with mind-numbing bliss. "Logan, please," you whimper pitifully as your cunt beats in time with your heart.

He smirks before sliding the cigar from your heat, eliciting a soft, relieved groan from your chest. You watch in awe as he raises and inspects the cigar. It's effectively soaked, dripping with your creamy arousal, and the thought makes you lightheaded.

Logan plucks the old cigar he was puffing on from his mouth and eagerly replaces it with the one just inside you. He cuts the cigar cap with a butterfly blade he keeps stowed in his pocket before flicking his lighter; the foot sizzles, burning like the sun before he takes a few cautious drags and tongues the freshly sodded head. Earthy smoke swirls from his mouth as he leers down at you like a dragon fresh after a kill.

"Fuckin' delicious," he mutters. The words are garbled, barely coherent, over the cigar before he rolls it to the corner of his mouth with his tongue.

A weak laugh breezes out of your throat, and you shake your head with bewilderment before two brute hands catch you by surprise and wedge your knees apart. Logan splays your thighs wide open with a wicked smile.

"Got 9 more to go, bub."

feel free to scream at me -> 💌

reblogs & comments are extremely appreciated! follow @ozzieslibrary for new fic updates!

#logan howlett #logan howlett x reader #logan howlett x you #logan howlett smut #hugh jackman

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a-shade-of-blue · 19 days

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Urgent: Help Mahmoud's 17 Family Members Escape from Frequent Bombings!

Hi everyone. Mahmoud (@mahmoudfamily1) is trying to raise fund to evacuate 17 members of his family (including no fewer than 5 children!), and he has asked me to share his story.

Mahmoud found out the bombing of her sister Tasnim’s husband’s house, the house his entire family was staying at, on the news. He could not contact his family for 3 days after that. He knew that several people had died and several more injured, but he did not know whom among his family survived, and who didn’t.

When he finally managed to reach them, he found out that a close relative, named Alaa, had been killed, along with her children: Ahmed and baby Iman who was not even one month old yet. Alaa was a beloved member of their family. She was optimistic and tried hard to cheer everyone else up. For the longest time, Alaa believed that the world would not turn away from their suffering and the war would end soon. But an airstrike took her and her children’s lives, the bombing continued, and the world remains indifferent.

Mahmoud’s sister Tasnim, was severely injured in the bombing. The attack happened while the family was sleeping, and Tasnim woke up to find her body injured and broken, bleeding heavily with bones sticking out of her leg. She found her 6-month-old daughter under the rubble, severely injured, but thankfully still alive. Tasnim's leg was fractured in multiple places, so severely injured that they all thought it had to be amputated. Tasnim’s husband and her 6-month-old daughter, her father-in-law, her brothers-in-law and Alaa’s husband were all severely injured by the bombing.

A few days later, Mahmoud’s family narrowly survived a second bombing on the street, as the people behind them, too slow to escape from the attack, were killed. They hid in their car, watching the plane flying above dropping bombs, praying that it would not target their car.

Given Tasnim and her 6-month-old daughter’s severe injuries, the family used a lot of money and exhausted all means to get them out of Gaza to receive the essential medical treatment they require. While Tasnim and her youngest daughter managed to evacuate, the rest of Mahmoud’s 17 family members, including Tasnim’s 2-year-old daughter who sustained first degree burns from the bombing, are still trapped in Gaza.

Mahmoud’s 17 family members (including no fewer than 5 children!) risk being killed and injured from the frequent airstrikes every day. They have narrowly escaped death no fewer than 5 times. On 31 August, the IOF dropped bombs on the tent next to theirs, killing 9 young men and women, and Mahmoud’s family woke up to their broken bodies.

Look at the photos Mahmoud sent me. These children, they are all trapped in Gaza where bombs may fall on them anytime. Please do not look away. Please help Mahmoud’s 17 family members reach safety!!

Mahmoud’s campaign is vetted by association. Mahmoud is @hazempalestine's friend, see post here for proof. @hazempalestine is vetted by @/el-shab-hussein and is listed as #281 on the verified fundraiser list by @/el-shab-hussein and @/nabulsi.

I’ve been trying to boost Hazem’s campaign, but we are both worried about Mahmoud’s campaign as donations are coming in really slowly for him. I hope you will support Mahmoud’s campaign and help him evacuate his 17 family members as well!

Extremely Low Funds! As of 3 September, Only $147 CAD raised of $80,000 goal! Last donation was 19 hours ago!!!

Please follow Mahmoud on @mahmoudfamily1 to get updates on his family's situation! And also, please, please, share/reblog, and donate if you can! Every donation helps!!

#mahmoudfamily #vetted by association #Mahmoud is a friend of @hazempalestine (281 on verified fundraiser list vetted by el-shab-hussein and nabulsi)#@mahmoufamilyyy

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willows-peak · 9 months

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*･ﾟ✧ JJK Character's Fav Positions

tags: multi character x reader, gn! reader, fluff, acute descriptions of cuddling, sfw and nsfw below the cut, the students aren't included in the nsfw portion dw

word count: expected 2.2k

a/n: im struggling with a geto wip so have this for tonight :3c i wonder if u can tell whos my fav to write

⋆｡˚ ♡ spooning: reserved for the clingiest of people, those who wanna feel your warmth no matter what, snuggled tight holding your back to their chest under a blanket and falling asleep to the slow breaths you make in your slumber

nobara: she's a girl with a very busy life, socially and academically, so when she finally gets to come home and relax into you, her back being embraced by you and held snugly to your chest as she sighs in content, she's as happy as can be. especially after a nice warm shower to wash the day's work away, curling up in bed in her jammies and taking a well deserved nap is all she needs. she gets very irritable if (god forbid) she cant be with you for a while

yuuta: he's a very sweet boy, even when sleeping. if u two end up cuddling, you'll somehow always end up being spooned, no matter how you two fell asleep. yuuta claims he has no idea how this happens, but youre starting to doubt him when you fell asleep at the foot of the bed and woke up with a snoring yuuta behind you. though, you dont have it in you to push him away, considering the way he grumbles and reaches out for you until youre back in his arms

getou: while he wasn't the one to initiate being the little spoon, that seems to be the role you gave him when you first started sleeping in the same bed. even while he was relaxed, his back muscles seemed to entrance you enough to want to stare at them while he slept. he wasn't surprised or offended at your reasoning of course, quite the opposite. you were fueling his already huge ego so how could he deny you? now, he'll rest with the feeling of your deft fingers combing through his hair, while your other hand was running across the bumps and crevices of his back.

⋆｡˚ ♡ hugging: for the cuddling enjoyer who also wants to smoosh your face with their chest. legs tangled together, the comforting scent of your shampoo in their nose and their hand gently cupping the back of your head

gojo: speaking of the clingiest man alive. he treats you like a stuffie half the time while you two sleep, hugging you tight to his chest and having your face buried in the crook of his neck while he snoozes away. much like yuuji, the pressure of you against his body helps relax him, but unfortunately for you, that means this 6'3 man squeezing you as tight as possible and stacking on blankets on top of your combined bodies. let's hope you two live somewhere cold

inumaki: he always slept in fetal position before you two started dating, so this was just naturally how you two began cuddling. inumaki either slept at 8 pm sharp or he'd still be awake when you got up in the morning, so who was cuddling who was never consistent. sometimes, inumaki slept with his arm thrown across your hip and his face squished against your side, and others he'd hook his arm around the small of your back and hold you while you slept

⋆｡˚ ♡ head on lap: sometimes you don't wanna go all out with cuddling your partner, and for those occasions look no further than the thigh pillow ™ for when you or your partner are too tired to move from the couch to the bed

maki: few words are ever spoken when you two do this. you could be catching up on your schoolwork, or talking with maki, or watching the tv, but often times you'll simply stop and roll over to lay on her lap, neither of you questioning or even batting an eye to it anymore. even when you first did it, there was only a moment of confusion in maki's face before she shrugged and continued talking to you

choso: when you asked him how he liked to cuddle one day, he shrugged his shoulders and answered with "whatever makes you happy." and while he meant it, you couldnt deny the pattern you noticed when you were lounging in bed, or sitting down, where choso would inevitably end up cozied between your thighs, his head resting on your tummy with his hand around your back. pro tip, he makes happy hums if you put your hand on his head

⋆｡˚ ♡ head on chest: who needs blankets when you have a whole other person? the classic and well loved position that lets them hold u as close as they can, arm snagging around your waist and holding you tight as you drift into dream land

megumi: you may have thought this meant youre laying on his chest. nope. it took a while for him to open up with what he wanted with you, physically, but it very quickly turned into routine how he'd wordlessly crawl into your arms and flop down against your chest, grumbling incoherently when you asked him what was the matter. you'd sigh and resume whatever you were doing, combing through his messy hair until the soft sound of snores filled the room minutes later.

nanami: this man does not play around about two things, children and his sleep. he's very particular with how he rests, as in you *will* be with him while he sleeps, and you *will* be placed on his chest, held tight as he snored away. youre his wonderful break from monotony, a shining ray of sunshine in his cold and unwelcoming world, so forgive him for being clingy while he rests. though, this does come with the downside of him becoming restless if you're ever away. dont worry! he has a pillow with your scent sprayed onto it for this very occasion, just in case

toji: he wasnt huge on cuddling at first, both not used to it and finding it inconvenient to deal with if he needed to do anything at night. he didnt sleep well before you, and even if that hasnt changed, you snuggling up to him like a huge teddy bear at least gave him something to focus on in those sleepless fits he often has. on the rare occasion he sleeps before you awaken, youre extra careful to press a kiss to his chest as he silently rested underneath you

⋆｡˚ ♡ in their lap: cuddling doesn't always have to mean sleeping, of course. sometimes its just a really really long hug with your partner. for times like this, curling up in someone's lap while you laze your time away sounds like a paradise

yuuji: at first, scooting you into his lap was just an easy way to keep you close while he had nothing else to do, arm secured around your waist while you either scrolled through your phone or talked to him about your day, the mundane things he loved about you. but, as he soon found, you on his lap added the extra bonus of pressure! a sturdy weight and warmth on his body, allowing him to relax and melt into you in those moments of silence shared between you two.

sukuna: lets just say you're lucky he's touchy at all with you. he'll tolerate surprise hugs or pecks on his shoulder, but the only physical touch he seems to ever enjoy is when you're slotted in his lap, free to touch and poke at whenever he pleases. you'd whine if he pinched your cheek, squawk if he pressed his nails into the meat of your thighs, glare at him if he groped your ass. all those lovely reactions are a fair trade for you scooting yourself into his lap and using his chest as a pillow, he deems

NSFW UNDER CUT!!! MDNI

⋆｡˚ ♡ cowgirl: save a horse, ride a cowboy seeing you take control is unbearably sexy. pivoting your hips up and down on their dick while your hands grip at their shoulders, or having their hands grab at your ass while you slowly grind down against them. either way theyre yours for the taking

ino: a loveable, yet irritating trait of your boyfriend, is that he struggled to fuck you again after a round. you couldnt blame him, with how fast and hard he pounded into you and how he'd always make sure to hit your sweet spots until you were spasming and cumming around his cock. but when you werent satisfied just yet, he spared no time lifting you up into his lap, eagerly offering his cock for you to use as you pleased. and really, how could you pass up an offer like that?

getou: why should he have to do the work when you look this good riding him? his eyes never leave yours while you're bouncing in his lap, the slap of your skin against his backing up your huffs and whines of pleasure, looking at him so pitifully when he backs his hips down out of you. "you want more? come on honey, work for it. thaaat's right, move your hips just like that f' me" he'd egg you on so sweetly, smiling at your pout while you spread your legs and angled your hips to take him deeper inside

⋆｡˚ ♡ doggy style: nasty mfs who live for seeing your ass jiggle with every thrust or slap they give you. the way your tiny waist arches down and your chest is pressed flat against the sheets while they're pounding away at you is unbeatable to them

yuki: behind every woman with a big ass is an even bigger strap, and yuki is the prime example of that. she loves to fuck you in front of a mirror in this position too, cooing at you for being so good at taking her dick while fucking you with aimed precision, making you look at yourself while shes thrusting deep inside you. its enough to make you melt into the sheets and wail at the onslaught of pleasure going through your body, but dont worry, she still has so much more to give you

⋆｡˚ ♡ against the wall: can you say desperate? they love this position so much, sloppy makeouts that lead to pinning you against the nearest surface because they feel like they'll die if their lips leave yours for even a second

gojo: call him a showoff, because its true. in this position, he can show you just how small you are compared to him, size and strength wise. bouncing you up and down on his cock until your pretty head doesnt work anymore, seeing your eyes oggle his flexed arms and the space where he was fucking up into you. this paired with fucking you inside his office? his dick has never been harder. the thought of someone hearing how good youre getting fucked, coupled with your horrible attempt at muffling your cries and moans makes him so fucking turned on

shoko: shes a true switch, which means its a toss up for whos gonna be on the wall in this position. it all depends on her mood, and who shes had to deal with today. if it was a slow day at work, she'll happily make out with you and grind her knee into your crotch against the door of your apartment for as long as she pleases. though, if her day was more hectic, shes not so subtly grinding herself onto your lap and pressing her fingers into your mouth, sighing woefully about how stressed she is until she expectedly pulls out her fingers, waiting for you to offer yourself to help her

⋆｡˚ ♡ 69: they love the competitive-ness of this position. being able to grab your hips and shove them down onto their flat tongue, getting harder when they can feel how much you're struggling to focus from their mouth. but when you grind down into their mouth while bobbing your head on their cock? hooh

toji: hes so mean when he has you like this.. ruthlessly bucking his hips up into your tight and wet throat, sloppily licking and sucking at you and twitching at the feeling of you gagging when he hits the back of your throat. you can barely move your head, your brain getting fucked out by toji's tongue and lips expertly taking you apart piece by piece. you never lasted long when he had you like this either, much to his delight. eagerly lapping up your cum while you moaned and hopelessly squirmed in his grip felt better than any orgasm hes ever gotten, though your throat comes at a very close second

nanami: nanami can at times forget this position is for the both of you, with how into it he can get. hes good about it at first, groaning into you from the way your tongue licks and swirls around his thick cock. but the more he tastes you, the more ravenous he gets with his sucks against you, licking up any stray wetness that threatens to fall down your thighs as the pace of your sucking slows and breaks. you can try to lift your hips away from his tongue, but good luck with that. the grip he keeps on your thighs is near impossible to break, even if your an orgasm or two deep into the session

⋆｡˚ ♡ mating press: whispers of them others name falling right into their lips as their hips rock into you, thighs pressed tightly against your chests and your legs shaking on top of their shoulders. the closeness of this position never fails to rile them up, allowing them to see every little face you make, and hear all those noises they fuck out of you

sukuna: youre helpless underneath him, and thats the way he likes it. you can barely move around when his large, muscular frame is pinning you plush against the sheets of your bed, arms forced to clumsily hold onto his shoulders as he fucks you so deep, so harshly that you choke on your own breath from the power behind his thrusts. "sssuku-na, please, too mm-! is' toomuch, oh" your pleads fall on deaf ears, his thrusts never faltering nor easing up with their intensity.

choso: he honestly thinks he'll die if he isnt pressed up against you while hes fucking you. it all feels so intimate when hes got you with your legs bound to your torso from his chest, his thighs holding your body steady while hes all up in your guts. he feels so wonderfully deep inside you like this, hardly able to get out a full sentence from the way you squeeze and milk his long cock, crashing his lips into yours as tears start to well up in his eyes from how good it all feels

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jellyfishsthings · 1 month

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The five times you left Spencer speechless (or how I like to call it, in quiet awe)

Warnings: reader wears glasses but no biggie, reader can fight and use a gun because why not, bau!reader, smitten Spence, nothing happens just feelz, Spence's drug addiction... I think that it

1. The first meeting

It had been a long week. People were crowding the small space of the bullpen. It had been the first case after Gideon's return, and Spencer had been buzzing with excitement to work with his mentor again. The case hadn't been particularly easy, and almost one agent named Elle Greenaway had been lightly injured, who would from now on work with them. His eyes were burning, and he gave into the temptation to wear his glasses as he looked into the nearly filled report in front of him, containing at least seventeen pages worth of information. Madame Strauss claimed that his reports were unnecessarily detailed, how that was a problem he couldn't tell. The hours seemed to blur together as he continued writing his report, losing many minutes trying to form his handwriting into something more presentable.

That was the moment. The time he first laid eyes on her. He had read many romance novels, which he wasn't going to admit, that the moment someone met the one time seemed to slow to near non-existent and his reality at the moment seemed like something coming out of a book.

She was wearing a chunky white pullover with huge sleeves that strangely represented bells and a light brown plaited skirt that reached just at the middle of her thighs. Long legs that seemed to be going on for miles ended at a pair of black Mary Jane's. And sure, her appearance was incredible, but that was not what made him make a double take. He was sure he was hallucinating as he saw the most beautiful face he had seen in his life, looking as if it was something that came out of a Renaissance painting. Her hair was in a braid resting on her shoulder, and wire-framed glasses sat on her nose, making her eyes appear slightly bigger. A tattered pair of wired headphones framed her face, and for a second, Spencer forgot how to breathe, the most cognitive function, the one he had been able to do since he first entered this world. His ears were buzzing, and his brain was running in endless circles.

A hand was moving in front of him, and he stared at the angel that was standing in front of him. Her mouth was moving, probably talking to him, and he willed himself to pay attention.

“S-Sorry.”

“It's alright.” The angel answered him; maybe he had finally overdone it with the sugared coffee he was drinking as if it were his primary source of hydration. “ I am looking for Aaron Hotchner.”

“R-Right. Umm…”

“Good, you are here. Come with me.” Hotch's voice echoed in the empty room, and Spencer's cheeks flamed an angry red as the girl turned and kindly waved at him as she quickly climbed the stairs and entered the conference room. Spencer had half a mind not to turn his chair and stare at her. With an unnecessary loud cough, he turned back at his report and thanked his luck for Morgan's absence because if he had witnessed this, he was going to hear the end of this anytime

2. The lesson

A month had passed since he first saw her. And yet, he could recall her vividly, the deep-set eyes, the rosy lips. His birthday had been a blur as he celebrated them in the office and invited JJ in a lame attempt to ask her out which just resulted in a long evening where JJ and Penelope talked endlessly and he could comprehend the sport he was supposedly watching.

He was waiting in Hotch's office as a stand-in. He was teaching a young agent to join the unit and he was thrilled when he heard that the student was just a few months shy of his own age. At the moment, he was trying to move a huge board to the office when someone lightly tapped him on the shoulder. He turned around way too fast and came face to face with the angel he saw, the one he thought he willed into existence.

“Do you need help with that?”

“No, no. I got it. Are you Hotch's student?” Ge asked and immediately regretted it. Of course, she was his student. Why did he have to lose half of his IQ around her? He gave one last hard shove to the board end and then aligned it with the desk. “So um… Hotch asked me to be your tutor for today if that is alright with you. Um… What material are you studying?”

“Mostly psychology. Which I am not very good at, by the way.” She retrieved a huge book from her bag and a small pencil case that was filled with just a pen and three markers, red, yellow, and green. Just as she opened the book, he could see that its majority was colored and that it had notes in the margins. His heart thudded louder in his chest.

“What do all those colors mean?” He asked curiously as he approached her.

“Well green means that I understand it; yellow means that I am working on it and red … I just have no clue. It's just mostly yellow at the moment, though the notes help.”

“What's red?” She looked at him in a strange way, and too late did he realize that she was studying him, his question had been earnest and probably too forward, and he rushed to explain himself. “ I just - I asked because I have a PhD in the subject.” He could see her eyebrows lifting before they settled in a scowl and whacked his brain to understand what he said wrong.

“You are Doctor Reid, right?” She asked quietly, and he stupidly nodded as an answer to her question. “Well there is … I don't understand some differences between some categories of killers; they have much in common, so why are they in a separate category?”

“The answer is actually way simpler I'd you think of it in a Venn diagram.” He rushed to the board, and drew a few circles, and he started writing on it as he explained its category separately. He talked for what seemed like hours, and he embarrassingly looked at his watch. He must have been talking for over an hour, and he turned to look at the girl only to find her writing on her book, still in the margins looking at him expectantly. The way she was staring at him almost had him stammering once again, and he felt his knees weaken for a strange reason. So he carried on.

When he was done, he turned to look at her; she was still writing something before she whispered. “You need to tuck your chest in when you are firing a gun.”

“I'm sorry?”

“Aaron said that he was having trouble with one of his agents' firearm training, and it must be you. You have a long torso, so your weight center is different from the diagrams in the training books you must have read. That's why you keep missing.” And just like that, she was gone again wishing him good night and a nice weekend.

His head was spinning as he walked towards the training room, and he wore his earmuffs and protective glasses. Tuck your chest in. And so he did before aiming and pressing the trigger three times. His shots were the best, but he hadn't missed. Pride swarmed his chest; he was going to do it.

The next day, he failed his exam. He had lost his gun.

3. The first case

Small-town cases were always the most thrilling in his humble opinion. And any time somehow a cult or demons were involved, he worked ten times harder to prove them wrong. Only this time, their team had a new member. Gideon did seem to take a liking to her, in contrast with Spencer, who was incredibly warm to her the moment she entered the room. Maybe it was because he had met her before, or maybe it was because whenever she was around him. Somehow, his conversation with Morgan had turned to the explanation of attraction in the neurotic sector.

“Chemicals, such as dopamine, may cause one to be giddy, euphoric, and even to experience suppressed hunger and sleep cues. You may recall a time when someone made your heart thud erratically in your chest, heat rise in your body making you blush, and the sensation of being tongue-tied or not able to form coherent thoughts. These are the characteristics of attraction.”

“Is that what you feel around her then? Because you don't act like yourself around her. I mean, come on, you are a germaphobe, and you were the first to shake her hand.”

He’s a germaphobe, he is, and that doesn’t just go away when you meet someone lovely, but he did shake her hand. She surprised him too quickly to think beyond taking her hand, letting it happen. Their formal meeting, the one where they acted as if they hadn't spent an evening together in this same room. Hotch gave him a funny look. Mostly impassive, but not quite, and he was definitely on to him. In the duration of the case, he tried to keep his distance, which didn't go that well when he found himself staring at the barrel of a gun that was aimed at him. Everything went by too quickly as she dove toward the UnSub, without a second thought tackling him to the ground and disarming him in a few short seconds. He wanted to be impressed, yet he had seen her in the training room with Morgan as they had hand-to-hand combat. She moved with agility, and her every move seemed calculated and strategic. He had felt his heart stutter in his chest as she helped him stand and checked him for injuries.

He was lovestruck as Penelope teased him. His silly crush on JJ had been entirely forgotten.

4. The Lila Archer incident

He was an idiot. It was the first time he would characterize himself in such a way. And hopefully the last.

When you guard a beautiful actress, Spencer, don't jump in the pool with her.

Love,

Spencer

He could identify the disappointment in his colleagues' faces from the very first second, yet the one that pierced him the most was hers. She barely spoke during the discussions about the possible type of the UnSub, no matter how much Elle or Hotch urged her on. She had been stuck with him for pretty much all of the cases and he had to admit that she was a brilliant young woman. The others interpreted her quietness as an inability to profile but her insights were what had helped him make some major breakthroughs on the last cases. When they congratulated him for that he simply smiled stating that he didn't work alone yet the others probably thought that he was just trying to cover his partner and not share mutual credit for their work. It unnerved him how she seemed incredibly distant and stoic always five paces away from the rest of the team.

Yet this time she seemed furious, it was the deathly kind of quiet, the one that sent a chill to his bones and left all the apologies that were spewing up in his brain die on his tongue.

Frustration was welling up on him and he tried to muster up the courage to talk to her, only to find her crying in Morgan's arms. He couldn't understand for the life of him what she was saying and a selfish, terrible part of him hoped that, maybe, she had been crying for him.

5. The drug addiction

Tobias Hankel was going to be a name that would haunt him for the rest of his life. Sometimes deep into the night he was still at that cabin fighting for his life, the one time his intelligence wasn't enough. What drew him to steal those few bottles of Dilaud from his pocket, why he used them, why he formed his addiction. He didn't want to be a drug addict but it was his new reality. He desperately tried to stop it, tried to hide it and always felt ashamed when he relapsed to that horrible habit. He would sit in his bathroom sweating, crying and begging a higher force, a higher being to end his torment, despite never being a religious man, only for his phone to ring demanding his presence because of a new case and for him to fall back to his old routine.

It was a tough journey and he wanted to talk with his friends about that, he needed their help, yet they ignored his problem as if it didn't exist, even though the signs were clear. He was always lashing out, having terrible mood swings and when they tried to confort him about it he lashed out. He had met an old friend of his and he had been the only one he had been brutally honest about his … condition. Gideon knew, his mentor knew, he had the confirmation, yet he turned a blind eye to the situation. Everyone did, except from her.

Everyday she would bring him his extra sweet coffee filled to the brim with stevia and not sugar, because sugar was just as addictive. When he craved, he played with his fingers, tried to distract himself but to no avail, a long strip of hard licorice sweets would appear in front of his face, after research be learned that the flavourful of licorice was extremely distinctive and strong and its hard texture led a person to chew endlessly at just one piece. It was the best food to consume to distract yourself. Every night after a case she would show up at his place with Greek takeout, which was apparently the best cousine, and demand longtime marathons of a show or series of movies, which wasn't something unusual for the two of them. She visited him because she knew that he would never use in her vicinity. He had never known true love until that moment and he recalled a quote by Jane Austin.

To be loved is to be known.

words: 3.007

#spencer reid fluff #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid angst #spencer reid #spencer reid x you #criminal minds x you #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds #criminal minds fluff #criminal minds angst #bau!reader

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odinsblog · 6 months

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“I first started noticing the journalists dying on Instagram. I'm a journalist, I'm Arab, and I've reported on war. A big part of my community is other Arab journalists who do the same thing.

And when someone dies, news travels fast. Recently, I pulled up the list that the Committee to Protect Journalists has been keeping and looked at it for the first time. There are 95 journalists and media workers on it as of today.

Almost everyone on it is Palestinian. Scrolling through, I started to get angry. These were the people carrying the burden of documenting this whole war.

Israel is not allowing foreign journalists into Gaza, except on rare occasions with military escorts. These people's names are being buried in a giant list that keeps growing. What I want to do is lift some of them off the list for a moment and give you a glimpse of who they were and the work they made.

I'll start with Sadi Mansour. Sadi was the director of Al-Quds News Network, and he posted a 22-second video on November 18. That was a report from the war, but it also gave me a picture into his marriage.

Sadi's wearing his press vest and looks exhausted. He's explaining that cell service and the Internet keep getting cut off, and it's often impossible to text or call anyone, including his wife. So they've resorted to using handwritten letters to communicate while he's out reporting, sending them back and forth with neighbors or colleagues.

He ends the video with a picture of one of these letters from his wife. In it, she writes,

‘Me and the kids stayed up waiting for you until the morning, and you didn't come home. We were really sad.

I kept telling the kids, Look, he's coming. But you didn't show up. May God forgive you.

Come home tomorrow and eat with us. Do you want me to make you kebab or maybe kapse? Bring your friends with you, it's okay.

And give Azeez the battery to charge. What do you think about me sending you handwritten letters with messenger pigeons from now on? Ha ha ha.

I'm just kidding. I want to curse at you, but we're living in a war. Too bad.

Okay, I love you. Bye.’

A few hours after he shared that letter, Sadie and his co-worker Hassouna Saleem were at Sadie's home, when they were killed by an Israeli air strike that hit his house.

His wife and kids, who weren't there, survived.

Gaza is tiny, and the journalist community is really close. Reading the list, you can see all the connections between people. Like with Brahim Lafi.

Brahim was a photojournalist, one of the first journalists to die. He was killed while reporting on October 7. He was just 21, still new to journalism.

On his Instagram, you can see that in his posts just a few years ago, he was still practicing his photography, taking pictures of coffee cups and flowers. Then he started doing beautiful portraits and action shots. You can really feel him starting to become a journalist.

Clicking around on Instagram, I found a tribute post about Brahim from his co-worker Rushdie Sarraj. In this photo, Brahim staring intently at the back of a camera, his face lit up by the light from the viewfinder. He looks so young.

The caption reads, My assistant is gone. Brahim is gone. Rushdie himself was a beloved journalist and filmmaker.

And I know that because he's also on the list. He was killed just two weeks after Brahim. I read the tribute post to him too.

I saw this over and over again. Journalists posting tributes, who were then killed themselves soon after. And a tribute goes up for them.

And then the pattern continues.

Thank you.

Something else I saw over and over on the list, journalists later in the war who had become aware that they could be making their last reports. They'd say it at the beginning of their videos. And those were the hardest to watch, especially when it was true.

One video like that was posted by Ayat Hadduro. Ayat was a freelance journalist and video blogger. Her videos before the war covered a wide range from what I can tell, interviews about women in politics.

She even appeared in a commercial for ketchup-flavored chips. She clearly liked being in front of the camera. Once the war started, Ayat's pivoted to covering bombings and food shortages.

On November 20, she posted a video report from her home. You can hear the airstrikes hitting very close to where she is. It's scary.

‘This is likely my last video. Today, the occupation forces dropped phosphorus bombs on Beit Lahya area and frightening sound bombs. They dropped letters from the sky, ordering everyone to evacuate.

Everyone ran into the streets in the craziest way. No one knows where to go.

But everyone else has evacuated. They don't know where they're going. The situation is so scary.

What's happening is so tough, and may God have mercy on us.’

She was killed later that day.

Targeting journalists, in case you didn't know, is a war crime. So far, the Committee to Protect Journalists has found that three of the journalists on the list were explicitly targeted by the IDF, the Israeli military. Investigations by the Washington Post and Reuters, Human Rights Watch and the United Nations have also raised serious questions in these three cases.

And the Committee to Protect Journalists is investigating 10 other killings. When we reached out to the IDF for comments, they said, quote, the IDF has never, and will never, deliberately target journalists. That's the answer they always give in these situations.

Meanwhile, dozens of seasoned reporters have fled Gaza. Journalists who worked for Al Jazeera, the BBC, the New York Times, the Washington Post, Reuters, Agence France-Presse. So many media offices were demolished in Israeli airstrikes that the Committee to Protect Journalists stopped counting.

It's not just individual lives that have been destroyed. It's an entire infrastructure.

Thank you.

The name on the list that was hardest for me to look at was Issam Abdullah, because I'd crossed paths with him once. Issam was a Lebanese journalist, a video journalist for Reuters for many, many years. He had just won an award for coverage of Ukraine.

I'm Lebanese and still report there sometimes, and I'd worked with Issam a couple of summers ago. He helped me film a sort of random story in Beirut. I was interviewing this entrepreneur who had started a sperm freezing company after an accident where he spilled a tray of hot coffee on his private area, burning himself.

I know, ridiculous. It was a really silly shoot. Right after we said cut and started to rap, Issam started this whole bit about being in his late 30s, reconsidering his own sperm quality and everything he now realized he was doing to hurt it, and no one could stop laughing.

It was a really good day that felt good to remember and to remember him that way. Issam was killed by the IDF on October 13. His death was one of the three that the Committee to Protect Journalists has identified as a targeted killing.

He was fired upon by an Israeli tank while standing in an empty field on the Lebanon-Israel border with a small group of other journalists. Everyone was wearing press vests with cameras out. They were covering the Hezbollah part of this war.

A few other journalists were injured in the attack, which was captured on video. The IDF says they were responding to firing from Hezbollah, not targeting the journalists. But multiple investigations, including by Reuters, the United Nations, Amnesty International and the AFP, found no evidence of any firing from the location of the journalists before the IDF shot at them.

The journalists in the group and video footage confirmed that there was no military activity near them. I had only met Issam once, barely knew him, but it affected me so much when he died. I know that he understood the risks of his job, but somehow it still felt so random and unfair that he would be struck down like that, following the rules, wearing his press vest and helmet, and a pack of reporters on a sunny day in an open field.

I find myself thinking about him all the time. His last Instagram post was commemorating another journalist, this iconic reporter Shereen Abou Aql who had been killed by the IDF. When I first saw that post in October, I thought how ironic because a week later, Isam also was killed by the IDF.

But then, after spending time reading the list, I realized how common this had become. I still haven't finished going through the list and looking up the people on it. I keep finding things that stick with me, like the funny way this one radio host would cut off a caller who was rambling on for too long.

A tweet from reporter Al-Abdallah that quoted Sylvia Plath. It read, What ceremony of wars can patch the havoc? I'm going to keep going down the list, even though this story is over now.

Just for myself. My own way of bearing witness. Which is, in the end, all that these journalists were trying to do.”

—DANA BALLOUT, The 95. Dana sifts through a very long list—the list of journalists killed in the Israel-Hamas war, and comes back with five small fragments of the lives of the people on it. Dana is a Lebanese-American, Emmy-nominated documentary producer.

#politics #dana ballout #the 95 #palestine #israel #war crimes #gaza #committee to protect journalists #🇵🇸#brahim lafi #shereen abou aql #issam abdullah #ayat hadduro #rushdie sarraj #hassouna saleem #sadi mansour

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indecisivemuch · 8 months

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Lovesick & Lovelorn

Pairing: Luke Castellan x Reader

Summary: You thought that Luke Castellan, your best friend, did not reciprocate your feelings for him. To cope, you wrote letters addressed to him and kept them in a box. What happens when one of your sisters finds it? Inspired by 'To All the Boys I've Loved Before' (fluff, best friends to lovers; you thought it was unreciprocated feelings, happy ending).

Note: Ahh, I'm so happy the show got renewed for season 2.

Word count: 3.3k

You were deeply convinced your fate was tied to one with eternal lovelorn.

Three years ago, you arrived at Camp Half-Blood and settled into the Hermes cabin before you were claimed by your Godly parent. It was there that you met Luke Castellan - one of your soon-to-be best friends. Though, you knew you were doomed from your first glance into his eyes. Then came his friendly smile and an offer of a handshake, where his hand engulfed yours.

At first, you thought that silly little crush would dissipate. But over time, as you became close friends with the Hermes cabin counselor, you were almost convinced he was faultless. You seemed to adore every little thing about him. Along with the fondness that grew in your heart was also self-pity. At one point, even looking at him hurt because you knew he did not return your feelings.

Hence, the letters.

In between your memories of Luke were letters you wrote throughout those years just to cope with the unreciprocated feeling. It was painful, but what else could you do? You truly believed confessing would put your friendship at risk. Neither did you feel like dealing with the heartache of a rejection. So you never uttered any of your feelings to him, continuing to imprint it on lined papers instead.

You scowled as the pen you were using ran out of ink, leaving the latest edition of unspoken words unfinished. Wordlessly, you fold the incomplete letter into an envelope and shove it into the turquoise box you bought while returning from a quest once. You neatly put the box under your bed.

“Y/N, it’s time to head out,” one of your sisters repeated. Two minutes ago, people were starting to leave, so those on cleaning duties could clean up your cabin. Since you were mid-writing, you hastily asked for a few more seconds. Now, you were the only one left besides two of your sisters.

“Yes, sorry,” you quickly muttered, exiting the cabin and almost immediately bumped into Luke. “Hey, what are you doing here?” you asked.

“I’m here for you. I thought we should hang out,” Luke answered ever so casually. Yet, your heart swelled at the thought that he was there for you. Before you could reply, you two were interrupted by another camper, who told you that one of your other best friends needed you and that it was an emergency.

“I’m so sorry, we’re gonna have to take a rain check on that hangout,” you informed Luke. You slowly started walking backward and away from him. “I’ll see you later, though?”

“Yeah, don’t worry about it. Come find me whenever you’re done, yeah?” Luke requested, hoping to spend time with you later. His soft look made you pause mid-step, almost as if your foot had been cemented to the stones beneath. You nodded absentmindedly before snapping out of that state to comfort your friend.

After two hours of listening to your friend and comforting them, you finally left their cabin to search for Luke, who previously told you to find him after. However, around half an hour later, you slowly gave up at the thought of doing so, feeling almost defeated.

As you turned to head back to your cabin, you spotted the Hermes counselor exiting his. You called out his name, watching his back stiffen before he turned to you. You ignored the odd behavior and recalled, “I’m free now if you’re down to hang out.”

“I’m so sorry, but I’m really busy right now.”

“Uhm, well, I guess I’ll just meet you at our spot whenever you’re done then?” you suggested. You and Luke fell into a routine of star-gazing every night.

Laying under the dark sky that painted your whole horizon often made you feel small. But something about that was so calming, especially considering most of the time, you were suffocated by the weight and duties of being a Demigod. You wondered if it was the moment or if it was Luke’ presence that aided your momentary peace.

“I really, really can’t tonight, I have a lot of things to do.”

“Oh… that’s okay. I’ll see you around?” you replied, watching as Luke fidgeted and gulped while attempting to look normal. It was futile, really, because being best friends meant you could sense when the slightest thing was even off. He nodded, and you retreated to your cabin with thoughts swirling in your head.

Then came the next few torturous and confusing days. For the last two years, Luke would always approach you - almost daily, and vice versa. Being best friends with Luke has been wonderful. Every day together felt like a blessing.

Now, it seemed almost like he was avoiding you. He would find a new excuse whenever you approached. He wouldn’t even look in your direction. Yesterday, you made eye contact with him, and he turned away abruptly, facing his back towards you.

You had enough after day three. You went to your cabin after dinner and reached under your bed with one hand. You did not want to, but this would perhaps be your first-ever letter of anguish about Luke Castellan.

The box…where is the box?

You peered under your bed, mouth hanging open when your eyes could not spot it either. You looked up and around, hoping maybe you had misplaced it somewhere, even though part of you knew you had put it under your bed. You have always done so.

“Hey, have you seen a turquoise box?” you asked your sister as she walked by.

“Oh, the rectangle one, about this big?” your sister reconfirmed, using her hand to show you the size she indicated.

“Yes, that one.”

“Oh, I gave it to Luke.”

“What?”

“Yeah, I was cleaning the cabin three days ago, accidentally knocked it over and saw letters addressed to him. He was right by the door, so I thought maybe I should just deliver them to him.”

Blood drained from your face, and your heart plummeted. Anything else your sister seemed to be talking about started sounding like murmurs, and you could not focus on a word she was saying. Your worst nightmare seemed to have arrived. Somehow, your friendship with him had ended without you knowing. No wonder he has been avoiding you these past few days. He has read them all.

“I need to go,” you quickly muttered, storming out of your cabin. You could feel your body slightly shaking from the panic. No amount of Demigod training had prepared you for moments like these. Then you saw Luke walking over you…with the box in his hands. You took a deep breath and practically forced your voice box to work.

“Listen, Luke—”

“I didn’t think you’d buy birthday gifts that early, Y/N,” he interrupted.

“What?” you questioned and observed the sweet smile gracing his Adonis-like face.

“This?” he gestured to the box. “Your sister gave it to me and said it was from you. Though I thought I should give it back ‘cause it’s not my birthday yet, you might have wanted to give it to me yourself.”

“Oh…” it was the only thing you could utter as it dawned on you what he had perceived the situation as. “Wait, so you haven’t opened it?” you clarified.

“Nope.”

“...So we’re ok?”

“Yeah, why wouldn’t we be?” your mouth hung slightly agape at his words. As you scrunch your eyebrows, you could see how his fingers fidget somewhat, almost as if he could tell you would bring his odd behavior up.

“You’ve been acting really odd the last few days, Luke. It had me worried. I thought I did something wrong. It seems like you were avoiding me.”

“I was just really busy with counselor duties,” he dismissed it. However, something about it made you a bit hesitant to believe his words. You did it anyway, nevertheless. You blamed it on your stupid heart.

“Yeah, but—” you stopped, not wanting to stir anything. “Ok then, I’m going to put this away, but I’ll see you later, yeah? Maybe we can finally not rain check again?” You hated how hopeful you sounded. You’re glad that the sun had set a few minutes ago, blessing you with enough degree of darkness to hide your facial expressions from being as evident as they would be in daylight.

“Of course, I’ll see you later, Y/N,” despite the dark and only dim lights from nearby, you noticed there was something different about him. Luke was wearing a nervous smile, almost sheepish like a schoolboy. There was a glimmer of amazement in his eyes like he was in disbelief. Though it was definitely overpowered by a glaring degree of warmth. He was looking at you like all those writers have written down in the books you have read before - something along the lines of adoration and love.

You shook those thoughts away again, refusing to somehow fool yourself into believing he could reciprocate those feelings.

“Yeah, see you,” you muttered, hand gripping tightly on the box as you took it from his hold. As soon as you reached your cabin, you opened the box to peer inside. You immediately sighed in relief upon seeing the copious amount of letters with your handwriting on them, all with Luke’s name on the front.

However, your eyes landed on one unfamiliar one. It had your name on it, written in a familiar wonky handwriting that you have always found endearing.

You sat on your bed, taking the letter out delicately, almost in disbelief. Then, dread overtook any other emotion. Was this Luke’s way of letting you down easy? By pretending to not have read any of your letters and rejecting you through the form that you express your love to him? — you had to physically shake your head at that thought.

You took the letter out of its envelope and started reading:

‘Dear Y/N,

This is probably the 40th time I tried writing this letter. It feels impossible to try and convey everything onto one piece of paper.

You deserve someone to at least view you as their muse rather than always being the writer.

Hence why, for the past few days, I had to physically drag myself away from you every time you tried approaching me because I knew if I didn’t, I would just end up spilling my feelings out right then. I knew if I even looked at you, I would have just abandoned this letter idea and run to you. You should have seen me yesterday. When we made eye contact, I had to turn away from you because having the knowledge of you liking me back was enough to knock all the air out of my lungs. I was a flustered mess from just that eye contact.

I doubt my words could rival what you have written about me. You once wrote how it hurts to love someone this much and to always be the poet but never the poem. Well, I’d like to thank you for making me your poems. However, now it is your turn. Allow me to be your poet.

You occupy my mind like it’s your castle. If I had to name everything I love about you, this letter would never end. But for starters, here are some of the first times:

The first time Chiron introduced you to the Hermes cabin, I could not take my eyes off you. Chris had to nudge me away. Just from that alone, a part of me knew I was in trouble. I think I came to the conclusion that I did not want to hold anybody else’s hand after just shaking yours.

2.5 years back during a campfire in June, even when the fire had died and the air grew cold, our voices still filled the air. Conversations just flow when I am with you. I remember never wanting that moment to end. Then you started talking about constellations and told me about the ones above us. Right there and then was the first time I had the urge to kiss you, and to show you that I was just as obsessed with you as you were with stars.

The first time I realized I was in love with you was while coming back from a quest 2 years ago. I remember feeling so numb coming back. The world almost seemed monotone, and I wondered for a second, what if I had made one wrong move? Just as I returned to camp, you bolted and hugged me. Somehow, it felt like I had just taken my first bit of fresh air after drowning for so long. I vividly recall shutting my eyes as I hugged you back because I felt like I was finally home. I remember never wanting to be away or out of your hold as others approached and rushed to get me into the infirmary for checkups.

It was only when I was lying on the infirmary bed that it hit me like a train that lost control. A large proportion of why I fought so hard was to come back to you. You’re my best friend, Y/N, and my place of solace and peace. Then came the realization that I was in love with you. I remember everybody else’s voice drowning out as I focused on that thought. It was strangely calming, as if my heart had known all along but was waiting for my head to catch up. Then I remember just smiling as I looked at the ceiling, unafraid of the new feeling.

Last year, the day we went on a quest together lapsed with Valentine’s Day. Every moment felt extra sweet. Us sitting on the train, staring outside the window together like a couple going on a trip. My mind savoured the small things like you falling asleep on my shoulder with my coat around you and us holding hands as we walked through the crowd to not get lost among couples - which I like to imagine that others had thought we were one as well. It was the first time I allowed myself to pretend this is how it would feel like if you were mine and how our lives together would be if we were not Demigods.

I thought for sure you would have realized something by the way I was staring and acting around you that I was irrevocably in love with you. After reading your letters, I realized that you did see it. But you refused to believe that I could ever be in love with you. Well, I hope my letters will reverse all your doubts, because Y/N, it is so easy to fall in love with you.

In fact, the world I built up in my head during last year’s quest had consumed my thoughts enough to make me frown at the idea of returning to camp, where it would not just be the two of us anymore. Loving you has never been something I was afraid of. Loving you has been an honour every single day, even if you never knew of it.

It’s also somewhat funny that I was heavily lovesick while you were lovelorn. But I promise, Y/N, that from this second on, I intend to make you know that you are loved and that I am so deeply in love with you.

Again, I never intended for you to wait for three days, but I ended up throwing away every letter I started because I felt like none had suffice. I didn’t want to mess it up and give you something less than you deserved. I wanted to do something nice for you. I promise I’ll make it up for those three days if you allow me to. But one chance is all I need.

If you are willing to give me that chance, you know where to find me.

Sincerely,

Luke Castellan’

Upon reading his last words, you immediately left your cabin with the letter in hand. You jogged to the spot where the two of you would always meet to stargaze together. Almost instantly, you saw his tall figure under the moonlight. As if he could sense your presence, the Hermes boy turned around and gave you a sweet smile.

“You meant it?” you asked as you raised the letter up, slowly approaching him.

“Every single word, including all the unspoken ones I intend on telling you from now on,” the way he said it felt like he was swearing it on his own heart. “In fact, I would have written more down, but I knew I was keeping you waiting for too long,” he explained as you stopped right before him.

Something about this moment felt cathartic. Three years of dancing around unspoken words and yearning led to this moment. Luke grabbed your hand and rubbed his thumb over your knuckle. You peered up at him, and it was then that you finally accepted what his looks meant: he was in love with you, and there was no doubt about that. There was no more denial on your end that Luke Castellan was enamored with you.

“Will you let me be your poet, Y/N?” he breathlessly referenced the words you and him had both previously written like he had been waiting for this for a lifetime.

“Of course,” you answered almost without hesitation, watching his eyes soften even more, if possible.

“Is it ok if I ask you another question?” he asked again, his other hand caressing your cheek.

“Yeah?” Your face flushed as you saw his brown eyes dart to your lips.

“Can I kiss you?”

This time, you didn’t say anything. You’ve written down way too many words in the past three years. You decided actions would speak louder in this case. So you pulled Luke down by his camp necklace, hands gripping the beads on it as you tiptoed up to reach his lips.

Luke physically melted as he brought one hand to your waist to hold you up as he leaned down from the height difference. Everything Luke had imagined before could not match the kiss he was finally sharing with you - the kiss that seemed to seal his lips into a spell that would forever leave them unable to belong to anyone else. It felt like heaven and hell combined because he knew that this was going to ruin him forever, and every second he spent with his eyes shut would be one where he had this feeling and moment sown behind his eyelids.

You had the same line of thoughts. The wait was long, but you felt like it was worth it. Under the stars, you may feel small. But standing there next to Luke, you finally realize it doesn’t matter. Because he was holding you like you were the only thing that mattered.

You were his sun, moon, and everything in between - no constellations could ever measure to you.

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

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