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#pink blood siblings
mikibagels · 1 year
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I'm very normal about them. I haven't been thinking about this idea non-stop for the last 2 weeks. I've actually been very sane and normal like everyone else.
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krislgfox · 2 days
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! TW Blood !
Really liked the idea of Jevin being possessed and prb killed Pinkie and Tan(I don't remember his name srry) so I drew this! :]
I also really like to think that Jevin's weapon would be shovel xp
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It's kinda lazy made tho ¡v¡
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insertsona · 10 months
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finally got my addison headcanons written down
+ bonus notes under the cut
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punkeropercyjackson · 5 months
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Las novias.........
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lifeonmarz-blog · 3 months
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The 12 houses explained: short word format
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1st: Aries, Mars, Yang, Dragon, Bee, Face, Eyes, Eyebrows, Voice, Accent, First Glance, Passion, Drive, Self Esteem, 3rd Eye, Intuition, Hard on yourself, Mutable, Patience, Leader, Stoic, Muscles, Neck/Head tension, Animals, Intensity, Head scarf, Tender headed, Attracting energy vampires, Hard headed, Red, Purple, Sexual energy, Humor, Introvert/extrovert, Fear of child baring because loss of freedom, Judgement, Lymph nodes, Guitar, Fast talker, Sharp talker, Forward thinking, Warrior, Personality, Spine...
2nd: Taurus, Venus, Yin, Panda, Neck/Throat, Throat chakra, Mouth, Thyroid, Heart, Pink, Blue, Fluid, Security, Resources, Musician, Silent, Introvert, Nose, Scent, Taste, Parent, Singing, Arms, Dancing, Food, Breeze, Partnership, Sharing, Values, Luxury, Pleasure, Easy going, Soft spoken, Naivety, Split decisions, Indecisive, Moon, Father, Sturdy, Poker face, Children, Trustworthy, Grit, Victory, Horses, Trials...
3rd: Gemini, Mercury, Yin/Yang, Jack Rabbit, Hands, Feet, Speech, Tongue, Lungs, Fast pace, Exercise, excitement, Bounce back, Joy, Vigor, Youth, Fidget, Anxiety, Habits, Expressive, Musician, Storyteller, School, Journalist, Moral system, Networking, Group, Siblings, Questioning, Stocks/trading, Choices, Dedication, Picky, Options, Dare Devil, Flirt, Long lasting, Hopes, Trees/Forest, Art, Comedian, Chances, Materials, Time, Loyal, Boundaries, ...
4th: Cancer, Moon, Yin, Owl, Family, Mother, Compassion, Creation, Birth, Life, Regret, Sleep, Nipple, Breast, Anus, Stomach, Womb, Bellybutton, Heart, Sacral, Blue, White, Yellow, Ocean, Cold, Night, Cycle, Fly on the wall, Unspoken secrets, Pores, Suicide, Whispers, Distracted, Outsider, Alchemy, Caregiver, Chef, Guidance, Critical, Teeth, Passage/Gateway, Humming, Drums, Weight on your back, Pressures, Gratefulness, Gratitude, Obedience, Horse, Animals, Words that cut...
5th: Leo, Sun, Yang, Lion, Spine, Heart, Pets, Fun, Youthful, Children, Love affairs, Expression, Dance, Gymnastics, Loud, Bright colors, Short trips, Friends, Aunts/Uncles, Get togethers, Cars, Innovative, Actor, Protection, Magician, Gardening, Gossip, Alchemy, Adulthood, Relaxing, Bonding, Self destruction, Slick words, Hard work, Spotlight, Sharing, Rebuilding, Clothing, Renewed vision, Drawing board, Companionship, Grounding...
6th: Virgo, Mercury, Yin, Ant, Crane, Praying Mantis, Work environment, Routine, Structure, Time, Patience, Health issues, Hygiene, Nervous system, digestive system, Pancreas, Gallbladder, Notebooks, Writing, Movies, Home, Relaxing, Forgiving, Generous, Social Life, Bonding, Practice, Foresight, Letting go, Stable, Helpful, Tense, Pressure, Negative thoughts, Reminisce, Addiction, Sorrow, Indecision, Indigestion, Saving Finances, Strong will, Codependency, Maturing, Realizing, Criticism, Self Honoring...
7th: Libra, Venus, Yin, Dragon Fly, Peacock, Marraige, Partnership, Contracts, Joint endeavors, Kidneys, Bladder, Blood, Caring what others think, Voice, Accent, Culture, Rebuilding, Learning new ways to do, Home decor, Learning gratitude, Giving, Reseveing, Welcome home, Comfort, Jot, Warmth, Spring, Flowers, New thought processes, Building Legacy, Defending yourself, Possessions, Slower living, Connecting to nature, Center of attention...
8th: Scorpio, Pluto, Mars, Yin/Yang, Vulture, Jaguar, Phoenix Death/Rebirth, Fears, Dark, Dreams, Escaping, Running, Hoarding, Lack, Homelessness, Strength, Stamina, Restart, Hard work paying off, Legacy, Against all odds, Elimination system, Pelvis, All the holes in the body, Burgundy, Purple, Black, Sex organs, Releasing worries, Manipulation, Smothering, Misunderstood, Coffee, Over giving, Partnership, Friendship, Sensuality, Secretion, Body odor, Roses, Fruit trees, Chapel, Railroad, Balancing, Power, Unseen forces, Intimidation, Relaxation...
9th: Sagittarius,Jupiter, Yang, Donkey, Whale, Shark, Liver, Legs, Posture, Religion, Long distance, Foreign travel, New ideas, Creative thoughts, Energy, Witty, Nomad, Idealistic, Larger than life, Focused on success, Friendship, Gatherings, Social Life, Relaxing, Luxury, Boundaries, Tired, Mental Illness, Restrictions, Insecurities, Grandparents, Quiet time, Relationships, Sharing, Attention, Harmony, Rebirth, Hard work, Getting over, Time, Late night thoughts, Male role model, Weight on your back, Responsibilities, Greedy, Guarded, Proud, Protection, Unique, Lavender...
10th: Capricorn, Saturn, Yang, Sheep, Alligator Honey Badger, Cactus, Sterile, Marble, White, Grey, Cold, Winter, Snow, Reputation, Social status, Farming, Popularity, Bones, Skin, Nails, Hair, Sharp, Leather, Goat, Structure, Skin conditions, Over explaining, Hard on others/yourself, Violin, Holding onto the past, Hard choices, Seeing others happen, Collecting, Finding purpose, Unique interest, Creative ways to make money, Standing up for yourself, Tunnel vision, Sharing, Networking, Group efforts, Working on love...
11th: Aquarius, Uranus, Yin/Yang, Moose, Mongoose, Snake, Friends, Parties, Organizations, Goals, Hopes, School, Science, mutable, unique style, Different friend groups, Water, Lakes, Rivers, Driving, Circulatory System, Pituitary glands, Changing course, Fear of change, Social media, Learning to stand alone, Trusting intuition, Defending loved ones, nonchalant, Increasing expectations, Std, Dead tree, Sticking it out, Elders, Community, Taking a stand, Protest, Elections, Politics, Numbers, Releasing restrictions...
12th: Pisces, Neptune, Yin, Fish, Birds, Friends, More to go around, Letting go, Releasing Past, Decor, Eye for style, Luxury, Opinionated, Energy field, Subconscious, Mountains, Fog, Spa, Skincare, Hygiene, Safety, Frienemies, Luck, Protection, Unprovided jealously, Foreign, Secret, Being watched, Self expression, Confidence, Talents, Anxiety, Depression, Breath, Dreams, Sleeping, Ufc/boxing, Always wanting more, Magician, Plants, Sunshine, Exotic, Target, Maturity, Completion...
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aemnd · 5 months
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𝓇.cameron. ┆ 4:24pm.
◟ ㅤᡣ𐭩ㅤㅤ ݁.﹒ finally introducing to y'all shy, bambi!reader (she's so me!) i hope y'all love her as much as i do. !!! 🧸♡ྀི
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bambi!reader is a shy, precious, skittish little thing, with you always burying your nose in some romance novel, loves going antique shopping, obsessed with gold and pearl jewelry, loves the color pastel pink (like most of your outfits), besides the occasional virginal white that your now boyfriend, rafe cameron, likes to see you wear for him, always all dolled up and so, so fucking pretty, rafe thought that first night of meeting you.
you're a painfully shy girl, which rafe finds charming, cute, and addicting like sugary sweetness, making rafe absolutely hooked and possessed, especially when he first introduced himself to you, all charming, confident, and with that typical, rafe cameron smirk.
strangely, even though rafe was a little tipsy, barely even drunk, he couldn't help but walk up to you that night at the party he was hosting, never quite seeing you around before, and try to start up a conversation with you, needing to be close to you—it was like an instant pull towards you, like he needed to be close to you.
it almost felt like his heartstrings were aching, tugging him towards you, like you hypnotized him from across his large balcony at tannyhill—you stood alone, taking tiny sips of the fruity, alcoholic seltzer you've been drinking since you arrived barely an hour ago.
once rafe got you talking, all sweet and shy, and yes, it took some time, your answers were slightly short, timid and nervous, like you were scared of embarrassing yourself in front of him, which rafe thought was incredibly adorable, his obsession with you only growing more and more.
rafe continued making light conversation with you throughout the evening, with you giving him pretty, little demure smiles, and all rafe could think about was fucking you in the most nasty, downright animalistic of ways—however, he knew he would have to have patience, to be gentle, not wanting to frighten you in any way, shape, or form, but maybe you'll let him taste your sweet, little virginal pussy.
you'd make the most perfect little housewife, he was certain of it. rafe already knew you would be his—his dream girl, the girl that he would someday put a giant, sparkling diamond ring on your pretty, dainty little ring finger, seemingly always freshly manicured with french tips, he'd noticed.
rafe couldn't help but also begin to imagine you all full and plump with a kid of his inside of your womb, plenty of little cameron babies to come, he knows it, deep in his bones, that you're the girl for him.
meanwhile, as the conversation between you both continued, with rafe mostly doing most of the talking, he would start asking more personal questions, perhaps too personal, but rafe wasn't ever one to give a fuck—except now, but even still, he had this need to know every little thing about your sweet, beautiful self.
"soo..." rafe chuckled lightly, a lazy smirk on his lips, taking small sips of his beer occasionally, while cocking his head slightly to catch your pretty, doe-like eyes, decorated with long, fluffy mink lashes—so damn pretty, rafe thought to himself in that moment, and every single moment after that while spending time in your company.
"do you, uh... h-have a boyfriend?" he questioned casually, though he could already feel his blood boiling at the mere thought of some other man's hands on you, watching as you immediately became shy and bashful, and it made the oldest cameron sibling want to kiss you, to claim you, to mark you as his and his forever—luckily, he was able to refrain himself and control his temper, and his desire for you, surprisingly.
and then, once you shyly shook your head no, all pretty and doll-like and submissive, rafe was already thinking of multiple ways about making you his, his, his—permanently.
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— trickentine જ⁀➴♡ ︎
pairing: luke castellan x aphrodite!reader
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summary: when eros, the god of love, makes the annual valentine visit to camp half-blood, he conveniently unintentionally leaves his bow and arrow in the capable hands of his younger half-sister.
warnings: nothing i think, except for like one curse word (pls do tell me if i miss any though!)
genre: ...romcom?
part 2
─── ° ᡣ𐭩 . ° . ───
The gods were many things: powerful at their core, benevolent to those who merit it, temperamental when goaded, and mysterious in their methods— but there was one trait that defined them most of all, incandescently littered in their tales and lores: they were tricksters.
You really should’ve known better than to pick up that stray quiver of arrows.
─── ° ᡣ𐭩 . ° . ───
The Aphrodite Cabin consistently made it a point to celebrate Valentine’s Day with much fanfare. Everyone has been busy the entire week preceding it; there were fresh roses to harvest, pink and red deserts to be made, hundreds of paper hearts to be cut, ribbons to be tied and acres to decorate. As one of the older siblings, a huge chunk of the responsibility fell on your shoulders. Needless to say, you spent an entire extra hour in the bathroom trying to put your concealer to good use.
A mere 10 minutes after leaving your cabin on V-Day, you’d managed to snap and glare at nearly everyone who even thought of intercepting your path.
Nearly everyone because you knew better than to direct your ire at the god of love.
“You didn’t even blend.” Eros said, perusing your make-up judgmentally. “Consider your favorite demigod sister card revoked.”
In his current human form, his hair was a deep shade of black and coiffed to perfection, his eyes a brown hue that you could only describe as melodramatic, and his skin beautifully tanned from frolicking in the sunlight.
Gods, how you missed to frolick in the sunlight. These days, you had to slave in it.
“Lord Eros.” You bowed, desperately fighting the urge to roll your eyes and purse your lips.
“I adore what you’ve done with the place.” He waved his hand off dismissively. He trudges ahead of you, officially beginning his annual Valentine inspection. “Although I definitely think it could use a little more sparkle. Perhaps a little more pink, too.”
‘Pink? For Valentines? Groundbreaking.’ You drawled inside your head. “The Hephaestus cabin is tinkering with a smoke machine to make it emit glitter.”
“Wonderful.” He replied passively, his attention drawn towards the dining pavilion where hundreds of glowing hearts hung from mid-air. Eros turned towards you. “Fairy lights on the beams?”
“On it.” You nodded your head tiredly, scribbling messily onto a notepad. “Anything else?”
“Everything’s perfect, except…” He trailed off before raising an eyebrow at you. “Find yourself a boyfriend, maybe? You need to loosen up.”
“Oh my gods,” You muttered under your breath, fighting the urge to physically recoil.
─── ° ᡣ𐭩 . ° . ───
“Don’t think I haven’t noticed you slacking off on training.” Luke chastised with a tut, tugging your arm towards the training areas. Your feet were basically dragging against the dirt, soiling your sneakers and flicking particles of dust against your skirt, but you couldn’t care less.
“Luke, look around you. What do you see?” You asked, your tone too saccharine to be considered serious.
He decided to humor you anyway. “Hearts.”
“10 points to House Hermes. Now,” You leaned in conspiratorially, “Who do you think set this whole place up?”
Luke barely opened his mouth before you answered your own question.
“Me.” You jabbed a finger against your chest. You narrowed your eyes at him. “I set this whole place up. I planned it— the theme, the color scheme, the glitter, the ribbons, the dazzling pink fountain with mini-Cupids who sing at the hour!”
“It looks very pretty!” He said, panicked.
“Yes, I know it looks very pretty.” You kissed your teeth. “Don’t you think I deserve a little break because it looks very pretty?”
He shook his head.
“You are insufferable!” You groaned.
“Hey! In my defense,” He raised both of his arms in the air to plead innocence, “You’re the one who said you wanted to develop a skill by the end of the summer."
His voice was pitched higher by the end in a poor imitation of your’s. You scrunched your nose in distaste.
“Gods, why do I keep digging my own grave?” You mumbled. Luke shook his head in amusement.
He led you into the clearing of the archery field, a line of circle targets dotted around the edge of the forest. A quiver of arrows was hung against the branches, different from the ones in the armory but definitely familiar to you.
“You can use those. Guess one of the kids forgot to return them after practice.” He shrugged. Luke mustn’t have noticed the difference.
You reached up to grab the weapons, still incredulous but definitely not alarmed enough to hesitate. The material thrummed in your hands.
“Go shoot.” He grinned.
“Very helpful instructions.” You muttered.
“Well, it’s pretty straightforward, sweetheart.” He sauntered over to one of the targets, leaning against the wooden frame. “You’ve been taught the basics, you just need the application. Now, shoot.”
“I could literally hit you.” You said blankly as you mounted the arrow against your bow.
“Consider it your challenge to not hit me.” He raised a thumbs-up.
“You’re insane.” You responded, irked and stressed by his casualness. “I’m sleep-deprived!"
Again, Luke just shrugged his shoulders. You huff, but then follow his lead anyway. You close one eye as you raise your weapon to your line of vision, zeroing in on the target.
As soon as the arrow flicked away from your fingers, it changed its course. When it should’ve followed a curved arch towards the red target, it whizzed away and made a beeline straight for Luke. A pink trail of haze followed its path.
“Duck!” You yell.
The arrow pierced through his chest at nearly the same time Luke’s body collided with the ground.
“That’s where those went.” Eros snapped his fingers as he emerged behind you. His glinting eyes were looking intently at the bow and quiver on you, an imperciptible smile on his face.
Your eyes widened in surprise. Shit.
“Lord Eros! I sincerely apologize.” You immediately took off the weaponry, holding them in your hands then kneeling as if to offer them back. You definitely did not want a god to be at odds with you. The two of you might have the same mother, but that didn’t mean you were equal in Aphrodite’s eyes. “I wasn’t-”
“Nah, don’t worry about it, sis.” He said, tapping your shoulder. Was he actually consoling you? “I shouldn’t have left it out in the open anyways.”
He pulled you up by the arm gently, snapping his fingers and getting the remnants of grass off of your knees. He even picked off a stray leaf from your hair. What in Tartarus was this?
For as long as you’ve known Eros and he’s practically coerced you into a dysfunctional sibling relationship, this was the kindest thing he’s ever done. Yes, the bar was low.
Something was wrong. Something was very wrong.
“You didn’t use this on someone, did you?” Eros asked, cradling the quiver and bow against him like a child.
“I think I managed to hit Luke—”
“You didn’t!” He interrupted with a theatrical gasp, a hand covering his mouth. He was such a drama queen.
You narrowed your eyes. He planned this, didn't he?
He smirked wider when he noticed the change in your demeanor, the realization behind your gaze. You swore his pupils changed to hearts for a moment.
“Good luck with lover boy, little sis.” He turned around, showing you the back of his hand as he waved goodbye.
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Finally finishing all these guys we’ve got charts and headcanons! (Long post)
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(Height)
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(Wingspan)
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(Body length & basic shapes I used) (it might be odd but ignore any detail on the back, the shapes are for general body shape)
Headcanons:
Seawings: - Colors range from red and purple to yellow - Aquatic is based off areas of bioluminescence rather than singular scales (because no one wants to draw all of those) - Although they average small compared to the other tribes, gigantism is more common - Wing bioluminescence gene is always present but for some doesn't show, thus aquatic doesn't utilize the wings
Rainwings: - Can change the texture of their scales alongside color - Weakest bite due to their fangs, probably why they're vegetarian - Mimic interesting behaviors - Have forked tongues
Mudwings: - Colors range from olive green to purple-ish red - Very resilient - Able to breathe fire regardless of body temperature, the heat of the flame depends on body temp - Their horns constantly grow and sometimes have to be cut due to dangerous growing patterns - Love gnawing on things, tough foods like jerky is popular - The horn covers of fallen siblings are harvested and turned into instruments to remember them by
Leafwings: - Colors range from gold to teal (and pink to olive green during cold seasons) - Can appear to have false eyes - Bug-like just like the other Pantalan residents (because they're just some weird outlier like what is going on here) - Leafspeak doesn't actually allow them to hear voices from plants but rather increase the sensitivity of their antennae which pick up on the changes in plants - In colder seasons, regions that have deciduous trees influence leafwings in that their scales change into warm tones similar to fallen leaves for camouflage but this also negatively impacts one's leafspeak ability; this doesn't apply to evergreen leafwings however
Hivewings: - Colors range from hot pink to olive green - Can appear to have false eyes - Have elbowed antennae just like their "cousins", Hymenoptera (wasps, bees, ants) - Tend to disregard personal space/get close out of habit, being close means better temp regulation and better communication - All hivewings have stingers, wrist stingers, and a venomous bite but it largely depends on preference of which they choose and like muscles, they can be exercised to become deadly weapons - They're not capable of "emitting a horrible stench"
Icewings: - Colors range from white to pale indigo - Melanism is still very rare but more likely in icewings - Can be iridescent in any color, especially visible in lighter scaled individuals - The scales on their face is very fine and is flushed with blood which darkens the area and allows them to see in the snow by absorbing light, otherwise the glare from the sun reflecting off would be a hinderance - Their wings are thin and thus have visible veins most of the time - Idk how to describe their scales other than its kinda like basalt formations - From the side they appear large but are actually thin and flexible - They can freeze to death if they've gone without cold for a long time and then reintroduced too quickly - In hybridization, they have dominant genes, partially because the animus gene - The extra mane of horns can appear randomly on the body in singular spikes, they also make a clink sound when they collide as if they're made of ice, making a pretty scary rattle when disturbed
Nightwings: - Colors range from orange to purple - Albinism is still very rare but more likely in nightwings - Dwarfism is more common - Teardrop scales are always present, highlighted when the dragon has powers regardless of type - Pitbull ready to bite kids - They CAN hang upside down as the books suggest but not for long - By taking dust baths, they dull their scales to reflect less light and blend in better in the dark - Have white fire but cant breathe for long due to how hot it is (this is mainly to add onto the mysterious factor of em and I always liked the idea) - Due to eye sensitivity, they hate sudden bright lights and will close their eyes as they breathe fire
Silkwings: - Can have black or dark accents but never as a whole body color unless they've hybridized - Wing shapes vary widely - Can appear to have false eyes - Flamesilk is rarer than one might think - Very flexible and have strong tails used as a sort of 5th limb in climbing - Albino or melanistic dragons still keep their iridescence - Silk is emitted through a spinneret on the chin rather than the wrists - Prefer to travel in pairs (instinct)
Sandwings: - Colors range from red to olive green - Dark patters often mimic a snake's - Horse-like in complexion - Alongside their snake-like appearance, they have pit organs - Tend to move like birds - Poor eyesight but good hearing - Their horns angle upwards sort of like a bull
Skywings: - Colors range from red to yellow (and green because skywings are meant to be your typical fire breathing dragon which is most often depicted to be red but can also be green) - Tend to move like birds - Weaker than they appear - Green skywings are incapable of being or having flamescales - Their horns constantly grow and have to be filed down - A flamescale cant melt rock or metal by touch alone, only via fire is it possible - It's not that they don't want flamescales that they kill them, it's more of a mercy killing because of how lonely their life can be
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vauxxy · 8 months
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FORWARDS BECKON REBOUND
luke castellan x reader
based on this request !!
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★ “mystery of lack, stabbing stars through my back”
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ABOUT - luke castellan lovingly pissing off his girlfriend while she’s reading
WARNINGS - luke being annoying in a cute way
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you’re alone in your cabin in the early afternoon, enjoying the silence that comes after your half-siblings leave to join in on camp activities for the day. you lay on your stomach with your back towards the ceiling, quietly reading a jane austen novel.
peace and quiet was a rare occurrence at camp half-blood- a rare occurrence that you consistently took advantage of. wether it be sneaking luke into your empty cabin during cold winter nights, exploiting the absence of the rest of your siblings as they go home for the year, or simply spending days reading for hours undisturbed.
so here you are, basking in the quiet of your cabin as you read peacefully. your elbows prop up your torso as you flip through the pages, letting your legs move idly.
suddenly, you hear the door to your cabin open with a loud creak. you whip your head around, only to find your loving, gentle boyfriend standing in the doorway. you watch him as he closes the door behind him.
“hey, princess,” he says breathily, walking over to you with his hands in his pockets. you nod softly, before turning your attention back to your book.
luke sits down at the end of your bed, watching you read in silence for a moment. sadly, luke is one of the most energetic and social people you have ever met, so you brace yourself for whatever he’ll say or do next- knowing the serenity of your afternoon will soon vanish.
“what’re you reading?” he asks quietly, before laying down next to you with his back sinking into your mattress. he turns his head to look at you, resting his hands on top of his stomach.
you turn a page, eyes locked on your book as you respond. “emma, by jane austen,” you say quietly. he nods, quiet giggles escaping his mouth. “of course you are.”
you both lay like this for a few minutes, luke trying not to disturb your peace and quiet. but watching you look so focused on your book, laying on your stomach with your hair cascading down your body- you looked too gorgeous to be left alone.
luke was starting to feel jealous of the fucking book, especially the way you’re holding it so delicately.
luke adjusts his position on your bed, turning to lay on his stomach with his head still facing towards yours. his body is pressed against the mattress lazily, but his hands are less relaxed. he moves his hand towards your arm, softly caressing the bare skin that was holding up your book.
“you okay?” you mumble quietly, still looking only at your book.
“mhm…” he nods, moving his head to lay on your shoulder. he reads the page, letting his body move much closer to yours. you giggle as he tilting his head down to kiss your neck, your cheeks turning pink.
he wraps an arm around your waist, resting his hand on your hip. he lets his head lay back down on the mattress as he begins to press soft kisses on the side of your torso.
you roll your eyes, trying to stifle a flustered smile. “luke, i’m trying to read…” you whine, finally turning your head to face him.
“i know, i know.” he murmurs, leaning in to kiss your forehead, taking advantage of the way your head is turned towards his.
you sigh, closing your book and placing it neatly onto your bedside table. he pouts at you as he grabs your waist, pulling you closer to him. you laugh quietly, wrapping your arm around his back as you bury your head in his chest. he kisses the top of your head as he softly rubs the side of your waist from under your shirt.
you groan quietly, shaking your head. “so needy…”
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dandylovesturtles · 3 months
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explaining the train of thought that got me to this would take way too much backstory but basically I had an idea and then I wrote it. I rewatched Scream recently so maybe that helps lol
cw: death (not of a canon character), mentions of blood and vomit
-----
The call comes in at a little after 2 AM, and he almost doesn’t answer because he’s busy.
But Leo almost never calls him, and it’s a singular enough occurrence that he picks up the phone and hits the button.
���Hello, you are conversing with Donatello,” he greets. “Make it quick, Nardo, I’m elbow deep in the tank’s engine.”
On the other end of the line, Leo is silent. Or, mostly silent; Donnie can hear him breathing, a little too loud, a little too fast.
Suddenly, he’s on high alert. He sits back from the tank, speaking more urgently into the phone, “Leo?”
There’s another second of breathing, and then, finally, in a voice that is too high and panicked to be his normal joking tone, he says, “Hey, remember when I sent you that meme about siblings who will beat the crap out of each other one minute and hide a body for each other the next, and I said, “us,” and you gave it a heart?”
Donnie blinks. Processes that string of words.
“I think I recall it,” he says.
“Well,” says Leo. “I need to know if that’s really us.”
Donnie stands up and keys in the command to swap battleshells to the jetpack.
“Stay where you are,” he says. “I’m on my way.”
-----
The body is male. Early twenties. About six two or six three. Caucasian. Wearing some ghoulish mask like the serial killer in a bad teen slasher.
Actually, now that Donnie thinks about it, there’s been stuff on the news lately. About a guy who likes to knife up co-eds. And Leo’s wearing his biggest, baggiest hoodie, and jeans, and in a dark alley like this it would be easy to mistake him for a normal, non-mutated human teen.
The puzzle pieces are all laid out for Donnie, but the picture it paints is pretty unbelievable.
Then again, he’s a mutant turtle who grew up in a sewer and recently fended off an alien invasion. His bar for believable is pretty low.
He takes in the body, slashed across the chest, ridiculous getup soaked in blood. Then he turns to look at Leo, curled around his knees against the wall. There’s blood all over him, too, but Donnie feels pretty confident that most of it is not his own. There’s a puddle of vomit nearby, and a dagger, and a katana, cast aside.
Leo raises his eyes to meet Donnie’s. “I didn’t know he was human.”
Donnie looks back at the body, and at the mask. Connects it to the dagger, which definitely isn’t Leo’s.
“Seems like he was a great guy,” Donnie says. 
“He stabbed my arm.”
“I meant it sarcastically.”
Leo laughs, high and reedy. Then he leans over and vomits again.
Donnie can’t help but curl his snout at that one. He looks away and waits for Leo to finish.
There’s a spit, then a sniff, then Leo says, “He stabbed my arm and I turned around and saw the mask.”
Ah yes, that. It’s pink and has a serrated smile. Little rubbery bits of slime and ooze. These things got popular after the invasion - they aren’t anywhere near the real thing, but in a dark alley, under attack, alone, when Leo had…
The puzzle pieces are there. Donnie doesn’t really need an explanation to put it together.
Actually, scratch that: he does need an explanation for one thing.
“Why are you so upset about this?” He looks back at Leo. “You took out a serial killer. Or a wannabe serial killer. At the very least a stabber.”
“I didn’t mean to kill him,” says Leo immediately. A little pleading. “I didn’t think that would… I didn’t know he was human.”
“He attacked you.”
“I could have disarmed him. I could have trapped him and let the police deal with him.”
“He came up behind you in this creepy mask and stabbed your arm.”
“He didn’t stand a chance against me,” says Leo, and it’s not swaggering and not boastful, but horrified. “It was like tearing paper, Dee. It was so easy.”
Donnie leaves the body to kneel in front of his brother. He puts his hands on his shoulders, looking him straight in the eye to make sure he listens.
“He attacked you, Nardo. He wanted to kill you. He made the wrong choice. Not you.”
Leo looks down, at the blood on his hoodie, and Donnie squeezes his shoulders until they lock eyes again. 
“He made the wrong choice,” Donnie repeats emphatically. 
Leo sighs, like he’s giving in, and a rueful smile grows on his face. “Thanks, hermano. But I don’t think the EPF is gonna see it that way.”
Ah yes, the good old United States government, and their hilariously poorly titled Earth Protection Force. Since the invasion, their existence had become known to the EPF, and they’ve been in an unspoken truce ever since. A “live and let live” holding pattern.
Unfortunately, Donnie has to admit Leo is right on this one: that this man is likely and most probably a serial killer won’t matter to the EPF. Killing any human crosses a line they won’t tolerate.
And so, there is only one solution here. The one Leo proposed when he first called.
Donnie is going to help him hide a body.
…Which means he is going to have to touch it.
Leo frowns at him. “Uh, Dee, what’s the yarf-face for?”
“I just realized how gross this is going to be.”
Leo laughs again, more than a little hysterical, and lets his head fall against Donnie’s plastron, the giggles shaking his shoulders under Donnie’s hands.
“That wasn’t a joke,” Donnie insists. Leo just laughs even harder.
Donnie scowls, even as he pulls Leo closer. “That meme really is us. I want to beat the crap out of you right now.”
Leo howls with laughter. Except it sounds a little more like sobbing now. Donnie gathers him up and holds him until he’s better again.
-----
Across the Hudson, the sky is turning pink. Donnie stands with Leo, watching the water that the body disappeared under.
They’ve already scrubbed the alley clean of any blood traces - his and Leo’s. He also had his drones bring gloves with the cleaning supplies, so they didn’t leave any fingerprints. At least Leo had the sense not to touch anything. And it’s not like the government has their prints on file, anyway. Donnie’s checked.
There wasn’t anything they could really do to hide the massive laceration that led to the body’s death. Short of melting it in acid, but both of them had dismissed that idea as soon as Donnie raised it. Despite what Donnie thinks of himself, he isn’t actually a stone cold disposer of bodies. The idea of melting it was too gross to think about.
Besides, it doesn’t matter if the body gets found, as long as it doesn’t get traced back to them. And Donnie doesn’t see any reason it should.
He’s already hacked any security cameras near the scene and made sure Leo doesn’t show up on any of them. Leo’s a good enough ninja to avoid that sort of thing, anyway, not that Donnie will admit it out loud. The crabs and fish will take care of the flesh and the katana’s mark. Leo destroyed the weapon itself in a bright blue explosion of ninpo.
“It’s kind of a bummer,” says Leo after a minute, “that the murders will go unsolved.”
“No, they won’t.” Donnie pulls out a phone, holding it carefully with his gloves. “He helpfully took trophy photos.”
Leo’s eyes go wide. “Dude, did you fish around in his pockets?”
Donnie can’t help but curl his lips. “Ugh, don’t remind me. It was a very unpleasant experience and I don’t want to repeat it.”
“What are you going to do with it?”
“Find where he lived and leave it there.” Donnie shrugs. “His body will turn up, or he’ll get reported missing. The cops will find it and everything will be wrapped up in a neat little bow.”
“Huh. Guess that takes care of that.” A pause. Leo shuffles a bit next to him. “You’re… really calm about this.”
Is he? Since the moment he got that phone call, he entered Fix It mode. He hasn’t really thought of anything else since.
“I don’t know if I will be later,” he admits.
“I’ll be there, if you’re not.”
Donnie hums an acknowledgement. There’s a weight against his arm, Leo leaning into him.
“Thanks, Dee,” he says.
“You’d do the same for me,” Donnie replies.
“Yeah,” Leo agrees. Simple as that.
685 notes · View notes
iceunhie · 2 months
Text
— phaethetically in love !
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premise. belle thinks her brother is the most oblivious person in sixth street. the reason? one: because his (super obvious) crush on you is practically the worst kept secret in new eridu, and two: because he can't even see that said crush is reciprocated! good thing he has one (1) amazing, wonderful, nosy sister to help him out, yeah?
or, belle thinks the two of you are a prime example of an s tier romance movie; and she really wants to skip to the final arc already.
pairing. wise x gn!reader.
warnings: kinda ooc wise (i just started the game), wise is a loser (lovingly), belle is an instigator (proudly), comedy, facepalm moments.
a/n: for @vxnuslogy and @milksnake-tea bc yes wise kissers yes
MY (rlly cool btw 🥺) MASTERLIST || INBOX !
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“you're in love with [name], aren't you?”
like all siblings in the world—or what's left of it, belle schemes.
(against wise, of course. obviously.)
her brother bursts into a mess immediately, nearly spilling his cup ramen all over his new shirt, chopsticks sticking out. laughing nervously. general chop would not be proud. “who told you that? i mean— haha, who said that, belle?”
his sister rolls her eyes. “me, myself. i.” she emphasizes, leaning her elbows against the table and putting her palms together; the grin she wears right now is so serene, but not in the angelic, nice way. belle smiles and wise finally thinks, oh. my sister may need to book herself to the closest self-help guru in new eridu.
“i have reason to believe that you, my dearest brother, are in love with [name].”
her voice goes up an octave at the last bit, leading wise to stuff her mouth with potato chips. already, heads have turned. “mff.”
“keep your voice down! and stop broadcasting it to everyone here-”
“what, i am right, aren't i? they clearly like you back, so why haven't you confessed yet?”
“keep. your. voice. down.” wise says, and belle's shit eating grin only widens as she sees her brother's ears tinged with pink. “and... how did you even know that?” he asks, mortified.
“well, one: because it's obvious—like, have you seen how obvious you are?” belle huffs, taking a bite of the potato chip with force (personal grudges are involved). “and two, because they like you back, dummy!”
because when belle sees the two of you together, it's like wise focuses on no one else. you are the center of his world—and he is just being pulled to bask in your light. his eyes soften like they melt only for you, and wise looks like all he is is, all he wants to be, is to belong with you.
(and, wise likes to stare at you for ungodly amounts of time. belle even caught him staring when you were petting a cat by the street and decided to name the stray ‘wise’; courtesy of him, apparently. the cat literally just had grey fur.
“wise.”
“hm?”
“you're practically spawning heart eyes now.”)
it's sickening. (in a oh my god my brother is in love kind of way, mind you.)
“so!” belle says, a devilish sparkle in her eyes. “allow your dearest sister to help you out, 'kay?”
wise nearly coughs up blood.
“what?!”
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so at present, belle compiles her (hastily written) list of romantic moments you and wise have shared. she's not surprised—the number can be counted on one hand. diabolical, disappointing, world-ending! she resists the urge to cough up blood.
first, a coff cafe date with tin man's help: a fail. tin man's wingman capabilities were very superb, but she never heard the end of it when wise was lecturing her about how tin man kept sending over heart shaped desserts and little fortune cookies. the fortune cookies in question which said ‘you can do it!’ and a latte with art of caricature tin man making a heart. (you were very confused). belle thought it was motivating. wise thought it was mortifying.
next, even instilling help from fairy to calculate statistics about what event would you two be likely to be together. fairy said, and belle quotes: “probably never. that kind of pining's for the long run, with the other master's current experience. give it a year or six, master.”
so, she's currently face-palming.
did her brother really have zero game? why were the two of you just dancing around each other?! she's tried everything—from letting you two spend more time with each other in commissions, her inviting you over more to leave you to chat with her brother, and even the entirety of sixth street has lent their aid! how were you two not dating yet?!
“didn't they go on an arcade date at random play yesterday?” belle mutters. “that should've increased your progress by a long mile, bro! even general chop said you two were really, really close in the noodle shop....”
just what was she going to do now? at this rate, her brother would be relationshipless in no time! in fairy's words again, it would be phaethetic. and that would be a phaethal blow on her pride.
“...master, i said no such thing.”
“well, now you did.”
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“The Ethereal Reckoning,” there's a pep in your step, the boxes full of movie DVDs in your arms as you walk back to the movie store. it was heavy, but at least you got to walk with the grey-haired proxy beside you. “That movie was great! Thanks for recommending it to me.”
Sporting a dopey, lovesick grin in response, wise nods at that, content to listen to your voice. it was actually belle's idea to let you lend movies you like over so the two of you could talk about it back and forth. wise would need to (begrudgingly) treat her to a bowl of ramen later on.... she saved him—he probably wouldn't even be talking to you for this long at this point, let alone hang out with you without her. for someone so nosy, he guesses his sister was a pretty good wingwoman.
“the main character was pretty similar to billy, you know?” you ramble on as wise listens. “i mean, because they were an android too, and...”
he finds that he's content to listen to anything you say, really. (right now he doesn't really know what you're saying, something about a horror ethereal movie, but you could just tell him anything and he would listen).
“i feel like the heroine's death was unnecessary, though.” you sigh, “too much tension just for it to end like that? how anticlimactic.”
your voice was so nice, so warm and easy to listen to, and wise can't even say anything to retort, simply staring with a growing (lovesick) smile on his face. talking to people was hard work, and talking to you? it might just make him combust.
“...ise? wise?”
“ah, huh?” he snaps out of his trance, only to find you mere inches away from his face, the only thing keeping you apart the boxes full of movies he's carrying. “...!”
“are you listening?” you furrow, and someone really might be out to get him right now because in that moment, wise flinches from the proximity, bumping into you.
then, because the universe thinks his life couldn't get more dramatic than it already was—you stagger, about to fall forward.
he moves before he thinks. “watch out!”
and wise.... practically astral-projects to another plane when he feels you fall into his arms, his hands on your waist. he can feel the warmth of your skin on his, the flustered look on your face. (he feels like he's going to die).
the two of you lock eyes for a moment, and wise feels like he's about to so something very stupid and his hands are still on your waist—
“....”
“.....”
someone save him.
“ah...”
“sorry!” you recover first, hurriedly letting yourself pull away from him (much to his disappointment). “i wasn't looking, and i- are you okay, wise?”
“no, no, it's fine.... i-i'm fine....” he hopes his voice isn't as small as it is, he couldn't be smooth to save his life; and wise helps you gather your bearings, his hands brushing against yours, blood rushing to his ears. sheepishly rubbing at his nape. “sorry, i was distracted.”
perhaps in the mood to lift the atmosphere, you sputter out, “no worries! it's fine! besides, you listened to me all this time.... i really enjoyed the movie, really.”
“of course i'll listen.” and before wise can think to stop his traitor of a mouth, the words spill out of his lips like it always wanted to be.
“you're worth paying attention to.”
it's automatic—your face heats up, warming like the sun on a hot day in new eridu, and god, he is such an idiot-
“you think so?” wise gulps. you looked bashful, and were way too adorable right now, and his face felt like it was on fire.... wait, that's not the point! he has to answer you, at least. this is a chance to make progress!
“y-yeah. definitely. i enjoyed... watching the movie with you.” he says. did his voice just crack just now? “we can hang out more often too, even without belle.”
he feels bad for throwing his sister under the bus like that, but—wait, did he just ask you out on a date? (accidentally)
well, it didn't matter because wise feels like he won the lottery right now, because you brighten up immediately. “really?”
then you cough and compose yourself. “i mean, sure! i'm sure it'll be fun, haha...”
awkward silence ensues. uh oh, did he say something wrong? was he too forward? he wants to say something, but something is lodged in his throat, and wise can't bring up a response. (his heart was beating like crazy right now, though).
“uh...”
“....”
then, something soft brushes against the side of his cheek. as fast as it was felt, wise felt the sensation leave just as easily. did you just-?
you just kissed him. on the cheek.
“thanks for hanging out with me, wise.”
“you're welcome- wha- huh?!” he nearly drops the stack of dvd's he was holding. you pull away, an enigmatic smile on your face. face flushed.
before he can even respond, the two of you finally arrive at the movie store. damn it, gods of the world. why did his luck run out now?
“i guess this is your stop.” he blinks, your voice coming back to him. “and, wise?”
“ah, uh, yeah?”
“it's a date, then?” your eyes sparkle and shine a light through his heart. super effective!
is this really happening? is he really going on a date with you—oh, he's so thrilled he could actually burst into song and kick his feet, but belle would tease him ruthlessly after. nosy sisters were so much work....
“yes!” he almost yells it out, but because he didn't want to look uncool in front of you, wise composes himself. play it cool, play it cool. don't mess up this chance! “yes, definitely. it's... it's a date.”
you put down the other stack of dvd's down the table, flashing him a dizzying, lovely smile smile. wise swears he falls even harder for you.
“then it's a date.”
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BONUS.
“seriously?! you're going on a date with them?!” belle shouts, so unceremoniously that wise slaps a hand on her mouth.
“not so loud! but, yeah.” he says, face heating up. “your plan worked, sis.”
“yes! yes! finally!” his sister practically cheers, “i can finally be free of your sickening heart eyes... and finally, our street's most anticipated couple is here!”
wise can't help but sigh in fond exasperation. he guesses he'll let her have this one today.
“also, belle?”
“what?”
“you didn't tell anyone about this, did you?”
...
“uhh....”
(on the day of the date, wise receives an abnormal amount of good luck posters. he also gets a disturbing amount of thumbs up from the neighbors.
the last straw? tin man, giving him a baked cake with the words ‘rooting for you!’ covered in pink heart sprinkles.
he facepalms. belle...!)
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a/n: d d do you guys get it..... phaethetically...... phaethon..... wise is phaethon and he's awkward in love lol hahahahaha (💀)
@ ICEUNHIE: do not repost translate or plagiarize my works.
800 notes · View notes
luveline · 2 months
Note
begging on my hands and knees (if you haven’t already) for you to write something about Aaron during the birth of your child 🥲🥲 and jack’s reaction to meeting his new sibling
You suffer through labour, Aaron dotes, and Jack meets his baby sister. fem, 2k
cw for labour/delivery, no graphic imagery
For some people, giving birth is a fast affair. Dilation occurs quickly, and after twenty or so pushes, a baby is born. Some people can go into labour and be finished within the hour. 
You, unfortunately, have not had that kind of luck. And that’s okay —it’s also entirely normal for this process to be difficult. Doesn’t make it hurt any less to watch, but Aaron has thick skin. Who cares what he’s feeling? You’re about to have a baby. 
He stands at the head of the bed with his arm over your pillow, tired despite himself, a styrofoam cup of ice chips in his hand. He presses it to your cheek, and every couple of minutes he changes it to the other one. Your forehead is wet with sweat, your face puffy with sobbing tears, but you’re beautiful in your sleep. Beautiful to him. 
He leans down to press a kiss to your forehead where he stays for some time. Your heart monitor beeps. 
A few minutes later, your heart monitor jumps. A strike of pain to warn of an oncoming contraction. 
You drag yourself from sleep to find his eyes. “Hi,” you whisper. 
He doesn’t know what to say. What can sum it up? Aaron doesn’t think he’s felt this many emotions in his life; he thinks of Jack, his baby face, and he thinks of Haley squishing his pink cheeks; he thinks of your hands, how chapped your palms are, how much he hates to see you crying like this; he thinks of your little baby so close to being here, and all your months of triumph and love and good luck to get to this moment. 
This is the biggest privilege of his life, in line with Jack’s birth. 
He doesn’t feel like he deserves it, but he makes himself a man who could deserve you. “Hello,” he says, pressing the back of his hand to your raging forehead. “How are you feeling?” 
“It has to be time soon.” 
“You think so? Should I find someone?” 
He speaks in solid but hushed tones, as though a raised voice might hurt you more. You find his chest to press your hand to space above his heart, where you give him a little rub back and forth. “No,” you say, tears welling in your eyes as the monitor spikes, “not yet.” 
He helps you into a sitting position which quickly becomes a bent over and keening position. Aaron obviously doesn’t know how childbirth feels, but he has experienced his own scar tissue ripping apart inside his abdomen as his organs flooded with his own blood. By the looks of it, you’re hurting worse than that. You don’t even speak. Your moans turn to panicked shouting before you get so scared your voice disappears. 
He doesn’t like it at all. He waits a good long minute with you for the pain to pass, his hand in yours as you squeeze it to mulch, his nose pressed remorsefully to your cheek. It fades like all the others. 
“I know,” he says as you start to cry in earnest, “it’s over. It’s over.” 
“It’s not over,” you snip, sniffing. 
He leans over your lap to press the button that asks for help. “You’re doing amazing.” 
It’s a hard night. At nearing one in the morning, they measure your dilation and agree it’s time to push. You tolerate it well, but it still takes two and a half hours of agony and tears. Aaron doesn’t cry, but he does feel an acute ache for you, and an excitement you probably can’t feel yourself. Every push is one step closer to the baby. 
Just after three hours, when the midwives are whispering to one another in concern and Aaron is sure he’ll never feel his left hand again, you have a baby. 
She’s snipped, cleaned up, and laid gently on your chest within seconds. You’ll never know how whole and brimming Aaron’s heart feels in that moment, to see you crying against the little forehead of your baby, to watch your arms cradle her body tenderly. 
He’s sure everyone in the room will forgive him for crying too. Just a couple of tears, smiling as you look down at her in pure joy. No shock, no sign of all that pain. 
“Oh, fuck, Aaron,” you say suddenly, to the delight of everyone in the room, “she’s got your frown.” 
She’s screaming, as babies tend to do. Aaron presses himself as close as he can to confirm the wrinkle between her brows. 
“I’m sorry,” he says, kissing your cheek. 
You breathe out deeply. “It’s okay. I forgive you.” 
Sorry for the pain and gunk. You forgive him for everything. 
You’re feeling nearly yourself again when morning comes, Aaron can tell. Showered, changed, swaddled with post-labour padding and with half a sandwich in your stomach, he can nearly forget the sound of your panicked crying. You’re hoarse as though you’ve been out for the night with friends, whispering clumsy love notes to your daughter where she naps in your lap. 
“So pretty,” you say, running an awed fingertip over her nose, “so beautiful, baby. You’re so beautiful. Look at your liccle nose.” You dip into sugar. “Aw, look at your nose.” 
“That’s your nose,” he says. 
“I think so.” 
She’s a baby so it’s hard to say for sure, but Aaron hopes she has your lovely nose and that she looks exactly like you, if she only keeps his wrinkled brow. 
You lean back. The bed has been wiped down and changed, your pillow from home propped behind your shoulders. Jack’s good luck talisman sits on the night table, waiting for him to visit. Aaron has been away for weeks, sometimes months at a time, and still he misses him after not seeing him these last eighteen hours. 
“He’s on his way, right?” you ask, noticing Aaron’s quiet. 
Aaron picks up Mr. Bear where he sits on the nightstand and massages the teddy’s arms and stomach. “Can’t you hear him?”
“My sister!” Jack is saying, words too fast to pick up each one, “Jess, we have to be faster!” 
“I’m going as fast as I can, sweetheart!” 
Aaron meets him at the door. Jack sees his father, probably just the shape of him, and starts to run down the hallway. He slams into Aaron’s legs, who pulls him up against his chest for a two-armed hug that he couldn’t need more. 
“Jackers,” he says in relief.
“Dad, put me down!” He must see you over Aaron’s shoulder. “Y/N! You’re okay!” 
“I’m more than okay, handsome! Were you worried about me?” 
“Is that my baby?” he says, rubbing his eyes with both hands.
You, Aaron and Jess all laugh. “Your baby sister. Are you gonna come and say hello? She’s been waiting for hours for you to wake up,” you say.
“I was waiting for her for hours first,” Jack says, climbing over Aaron’s shoulder, and then slipping back down as his father walks him into the hospital room to stop by your bed. 
Jess stays by the door. 
Aaron puts Jack on the bed beside you where there’s not much room for him, hands clasped around his arms just in case he does something sudden. “Oh,” Jack says, breathing out slowly. “Wow, dad.” 
“Wow,” Aaron echoes. 
“Can I touch her?” 
Assured he’ll be careful, Aaron lets Jack loose, and the boy waits for your signal before he pokes at the baby’s fisted hand. 
“She’s really little, huh?” you ask quietly. 
“Was I this little?” 
“You were smaller,” Aaron whispers. 
“She’s a real baby, dad.” 
“She’s super real. Does she look like you pictured?” Aaron asks. 
“No, I thought she’d look more like me.” 
This is really funny to you. Careful, you hold the baby to your chest and free an arm to cup Jack’s shoulder. “Buddy, I missed you. Aunt Jess says you stayed up past your bedtime, how are you feeling?” 
He smiles and goes shy at the same time. “I’m okay. I missed you, too.” 
“That’s good, I’m feeling good too.” You sniffle. 
“Are you sure?” Jack asks. 
“This is the best day ever. My little girl meeting her big brother.” You take a steadying breath, and you turn the baby toward Jack gently. “Do you wanna hold her?” 
Jack sits against your pillows and waits with pale terror on his face for you to pass him the baby. He bends over her as soon as she’s been placed, worried she’ll tip out of his lap, and you stroke the short brown strands of his hair, crops of it moving shiny under your touch. 
Aaron takes his phone from his pocket. In his rush, he struggles to find the capture button, recording a video instead that will take up most of the memory on his old phone and that he will refuse to part with. 
“Did she look like this in your belly?” Jack asks you, frowning. 
“Not the whole time. Why, does that bother you?” 
“Was she squished?” 
“No, she wasn’t squished. ‘Member how big my belly was?” You laugh warmly. “How big it still is.” 
“Will it ever be small again?” 
“Maybe somebody. I don’t mind.” You stroke his hair again. Baby makes a wet noise. “What do you think, lovely?” 
“About your belly?” 
“About the baby.” 
“I wish I was her.” 
You stroke behind his ear. “How come?” 
“I’m so tired, I wish I was sleeping too. But she is really small.” 
Aaron catches your relieved smile before he puts down the phone. “Do you want a nap, buddy? We can take a nap.” 
“I can take him home?” Jess suggests quietly. 
Aaron thanks her for everything. When you’re feeling better, he’s sure you’ll want to introduce Jess to the baby as well, but Jess doesn’t want to impose, and Aaron lets her go without fuss. Perhaps it’s a little hard on her to see. He doesn’t know. 
But Jess is a good woman, and he knows she’ll want to meet your baby whenever you’re ready. For now, it’s just you, Aaron, Jack, and the baby Hotchner.
Aaron sits in the plastic wrapped chair by the bed and leans back to accommodate sleepy Jack, who falls asleep with little more than a back rub and his family’s proximity. You look like you could sleep, too, but you won’t put the baby in the bassinet. You hold her and watch her for a soothing stretch of time, Aaron watching you both. 
“He’ll be more enthusiastic after he’s slept,” Aaron promises. 
You pucker and press teeny kisses to the baby’s ear. “He was perfect,” you murmur. “He was so gentle. We’re so lucky.” 
Aaron reaches over to hold your hand. You indulge him with an open palm, the two of you shushing in tandem as your children rouse, both of them perfect, and both parents very lucky. 
828 notes · View notes
bunnys-kisses · 10 days
Note
hi bunny!
I’ve been wanting to try the bakery and finally got around to it!
Could I get savory pastry(norris!reader), pull-apart bread, and root beer with carlos sainz!
the menu
want to submit your own order? then hit up the menu! it's still open (yay)! and i working away on orders, so please feel free to submit your own! we're open 6 days a week! i hope you love this order, anon! thank you for submitting it! i hope you're okay with me making the reader have.. big titties... i wanted to yearn for big titties tonight..
savory pastry ("let your brother find out.") + pull-apart bread ("i love you") + root beer (filming/recording) served by carlos sainz jr. (formula one)!!
cw: smut/pwp, norris!reader, possessive behavior, mean!carlos, filming, ditzy!reader, soft!reader, implied mid to plus size!reader, sorry lando, unprotected sex, breast worship
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rivals come and go. if carlos really hated someone however, he wouldn't fuck their sibling. carlos wasn't out fucking max's sister or one of charles' brothers, that was stupid and childish. it was a mind game reserved for people who thought they were smart
but that was until he saw your knelt down in the paddock trying the laces of your pretty pink sneakers and when you stood back up a slight breeze pushed up your skirt. and carlos caught the briefest glimpse of your panties. cotton, pink with little flowers on it. carlos stopped in his tracks, he hadn't realized the can of celcius he had was now on the floor.
you didn't notice his leering gaze, but instead burst into smiles when you went over and wrapped your arms around lando. he held you not like a lover, but like a sibling. oh, you were lando's fabled sister, the one who went to school in the middle of nowhere. was it canada? not that it mattered.
you could've been studying pottery in utah for all carlos cared, because he wanted one thing. those full breasts in his hands.
he remembered the first time he held them in his hands. the weight to them made his eyes bug out a little bit. it was about three months into the season and carlos was starting to feel the itch for sex. a lot of drivers got it, that was a lot of the reason why significant others would fly out for that weekend. but carlos has his right hand, something his left hand if he was feeling adventurous.
and one thing led to another and he ended up in your hotel room for the night. and then you were in his the next weekend, then followed by you in the ferrari motor home. eventually your behind was as red as the ferrari shirt that carlos got for you. he liked how the long was a little stretched across your pretty tits.
the rational thing would've been to tell your brother, lando. drivers dated other driver's siblings all the time! sometimes drivers dated other drivers, but carlos wouldn't get into those details. but something kept him reserved by telling the other driver.
you on the other hand were nervous about telling him. lando had scared off every boyfriend you had since your teens. you remembered when he chased a guy who had a crush on you off your family's front lawn with a hose. if lando found out about carlos....
"what if he finds out?" you squeak when he pulled you to ferrari's side of the paddock, you almost falling over yourself as you tried to keep up with him.
he shrugged, "let your brother find out."
your ferrari t-shirt (a gift from carlos) made you fit in nicely with the others on that side of the paddock. and carlos made sure that no one was looking when he got you into the driver's room. when he got the door closed and locked, he flipped up your pretty skirt. something a little more muted to go with the ferrari shirt, but short and carlos wanted to get his hands on you.
you ended up on the couch with carlos not even taking off the thing, only your panties underneath. he could feel the excitement in his blood stream. your knees up to your chest and your ankles in the air. carlos got his phone out after he got his cock out of his tight jeans.
"sorry, we're in a bit of a hurry." he said as he angled the phone towards your sweet cunt. it felt so good to be balls deep inside of you. even if it was messy quick sex.
carlos liked to film your encounters together. he liked to record your little noises, even if it was just recording your noises together. something to play back when he was alone. sadly, you couldn't be at every race. but carlos was hoping in a few years that would change.
he got his cock into you with ease. one hand on your clothed breast and the other on the phone. he got good shots of your pussy and face. he watched it change on the screen as he moved against you.
you tensed up for a moment then relaxed and carlos felt the cotton in his brain grow. he got addicted to your fast. he continued to grope your breasts as he moved against your achy slit. your legs kicked out a little and carlos pushed himself closer to you. he pointed the camera at the both of you and chuckled at the lenses.
"future carlos, remember this?" then started to lazily make out with you. you giggled as well. you knew those videos were often safe on his phone.
you squirmed a little bit and carlos put his face between your clothes breasts and rubbed his face up against them. he groaned against your heartbeat before he pulled away and got the camera right in your face before he leaned back a little bit to film your beautiful cunt taking him so well.
you yelped but quickly covered your mouth with your hands. he pout the camera in your face as he asked quietly, "so pretty. so good for me. i think about you all the time." he said almost sweetly.
you looked up at the camera, finding a moment to compose yourself before you said, "i love you."
he smiled down at you, the camera angled at your sweet cunt as he responded, "i love you too." he loved the feeling of your sweet cunt against him. he loved it so much. it made his heart leap in his chest at the idea of being able to fuck you.
usually he liked to tease his cock between your heavy breasts, but that would have to wait for another night. for now he just got a good shot of them bouncing as he fucked you. a half-assed mating press just to get to your pussy.
he could feel the heat burning in your core as he fucked you. you felt so good, were you always this good for him. or maybe the rush of today's race was what kept you bouncing on his cock like a good girl.
it wasn't long before you covered your mouth once more and shakily exhaled against your trembling hands. it all felt so good and it made you run hot all over. it was so sweet, it was so good.
carlos almost dropped his phone from the mere pace that he was fucking you in. his heavy breathing heard on the camera paired with your sweet little moans. it was hot, it made carlos' brain run a mile a minute.
with a few more bucks of his hips, he pushed himself all the way inside of you to finish. your voice got high pitched as you came as well, but kept your hands over your mouth to keep yourself quieter.
"there. you'll be having this again soon." carlos said to the camera. to his future self. he ended the video and like a gentleman he helped you start to get yourself dressed.
carlos gave one last squeeze to your breasts and said softly when he sat next to you on the couch. curled up at your side, "we'll tell lando soon." then placed a kiss on your cheek.
-
that night after carlos' grand weekend he was out drinking with the rest of ferrari and mclaren. you had left early because the you were very tried from the day. carlos had suspicion that it might have been from your escapade earlier that day plus the race.
it was a lot for you. carlos didn't mind, even though he missed you.
he was talking to lando, treating him like a friend more so than a rival (he'd eventually be his brother-in-law, might as well get on his good side). they had a few drinks and carlos mentioned that he had something to send the other man.
"yeah, just message it to me, mate!"
carlos laughed and with his thick thumbs he didn't send the right video. what was supposed to be a stupid tiktok, was instead the 10 minute uncut video of carlos fucking you. lando's sister. before he realized what he had done, lando's eyes were the size of dinner plates on the screen.
"uh... mate... carlos." lando said when he was able to find the words. he turned his screen to the other driver. the thumbnail wasn't the stupid meme, but rather a shot of your pussy on full display.
carlos' eyes went wide, realizing that he sent the wrong video. he chuckled nervously and said, "let me explain myself, mate!" he knew he'd be hearing about this for months from both norris siblings.
but, at least you didn't have to keep it a secret anymore. <3
435 notes · View notes
ophelieverse · 2 months
Text
Everything is reduced to misunderstandings,mistakes and accidents.No one is plotting to take/steal the power like it was supposed to.
Characters are completely changed or are the opposite of what they are in the book.The is no gray,only black and white,only good people or bad ones.
Different team stans are at each other’s throats.
Daemon and Aemond are plotting against the people they are most loyal to and they want to become kings by themselves.
Daeron is lost somewhere and it’s rumored to be a bastard.
Maelor and Nettles don’t exist.Their storylines were so important for characters like Daeron,Helaena,Daemon and Rhaenyra.
Apparently having dragon blood/being valyrian has no use to ride a dragon.
Other dragons,like Dreamfyre,are long forgotten.
There was no interaction,no relationship,not even a conversation between Viserys children.
Laenor simply running away,living his best life in Essos meanwhile his family started a civil war.Same as Daeron,who is trapped in Oldtwon while his siblings are destroying each other.Perfect sense.
Rumors about Alys engaging a relationship with Daemon instead that with Aemond.
Aegon and Criston Cole being the most hated in the fandom when in the book they were completely different,so much wasted potential.
Rhaenyra being paint as saint/mary sue,instead that the political idiot she actually is and the bad person she is(and that’s why i loved her in the book).
Alicent being a scheming little bitch,a Margaery 1.0,not a little scared girl that did what she did because of a misunderstanding.She wanted to usurp the throne,she wanted the power and she didn’t stopped in front of anything.
Rhaenicent scene in the Temple was a comic relief,because otherwise it make no sense if you think about how the characters were supposed to be.Just another proof of how “good” and “misunderstood” they are,acting like it’s the world that goes against them and that is not them that are keep doing a bullshit after another.
Helaena having no reaction after Blood and Cheese,but saying that things like this happen in the world.When in reality this is the event that will forever change her life,she will stop sleeping,bathing and eating.She won’t even look at her other children without feeling guilty for what happened.She literally goes insane with grief.
Rhaena bonding with the dragon that Nettles was supposed to have and that’s mean that we won’t probably see her real dragon:the pink baby Morning,that represents the hope for the dragons because in the dance they all died.
Ryan Condal if you plan to make a show about the Conquest,i beg you to not do it.I don’t want to see Visenya and Rhaenys being rivals and fight over Aegon,because i know this is what will happen!
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534 notes · View notes
alexiroflife · 3 months
Text
"mesmorized"
choso is a simp, fluff
choso kamo x reader
Synopsis: choso has a staring problem
to sum it up: he's whipped with a captiable W
WC: 2842
Warning(s): itty bitty tiny bit of suggestive themes
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Choso has a problem. A problem he has harbored for quite some time and yet is not inclined to fix. 
And that problem would be his astonishing habit of staring at you. 
He doesn’t know himself if he’s so obvious about it because he feels shamelessly guilt-free when doing so or if he physically can not bring himself to tear his eyes away from you. Perhaps it’s a combination of both, he decides, his eyes catching you from the other side of the room with ease as he drowns in his thoughts. 
He recalls that this problem of his first started the moment he met you, his eyes doing a double take when he catches you walking by, an air of gentle confidence about you. His violet eyes, dull and tired moments before, seem to catch the rays of sunlight as his irises glimmer in the wake of your beauty, his heart skipping a beat or two in panic when Yuji calls out your name from beside him. Choso glances at his brother in swift alarm, curious as to how he knows you and suddenly rattled by the idea that you are heading his way.
When his eyes travel back over to relocate you, you’re stopping in your tracks, turning over your shoulder to find the owner of the voice that had called out to you, revealing a curious expression on your gorgeous face. 
Choso’s eyes grow wide as you walk over, a smile creeping onto your face when you see Yuji. The brunette himself doesn’t know what’s coming over him. He can’t look away though he wants to hide behind his hands, hide away from your brightness. His eyes glue themselves to you in an instant, deciding upon themselves that you are the only thing of true interest that keeps their gaze unwavering, unapologetic, curious, and open. 
You stop before the siblings, keeping your eyes on Yuji first, and Choso is thankful, for he does not want you to catch wind of his presence so quickly for fear that your attention may spring him into cardiac arrest. “Hey, Itadori.” Your voice is light and airy, soaked in benevolence and springful youth. “How’s it going?” you ask him, and you sound like you’re truly interested unlike those who pose the question out of polite obligation, neither seeking out or caring for a positive or negative response. 
Choso watches timidly as Itadori delves into a conversation with you, chatting brightly about how well his training has been going lately and filling you in on some new skills that he has acquired. The half-curse stares, observing how your eyes train on the pink-haired teen with engagement, head nodding occasionally and smile curling when you catch something Yuji says that inspires a reaction. You’re so attentive when you listen, allowing Yuji to know that he has your full focus though you don’t have to verbalize much to display so. Choso wonders how it must feel to be the center of focus under your gaze, mind slipping into a trance.
He doesn’t have to ponder the notion long, however, before Yuji is excitedly changing the subject and bringing your attention to him. “Oh! (Y/n), have you met my brother Choso?”
Choso can feel the blood drain from his face and his heart pang in that odd fashion again. He shifts, tensing when you turn and look at him. He’s horrified to imagine you noticing the way he has been blatantly staring, but when your (e/c) eyes encounter his, the world goes quiet and time stops.
Specs of light surround you through Choso’s vision, kissing your hair and skin regally as you look his way, sparks flying. You remind him of a star, shimmering brightly and numbing all other senses that come in your wake. You’re beautiful, breathtaking, and Choso’s losing air before he can think to speak. 
“I didn’t know you had a brother,” you say with pleasant surprise in your voice, eyes bouncing between Choso and Itadori to find a resemblance that certainly is not there. Nevertheless, you don’t seem to let that sway you as you turn back to flash Choso a pretty smile. “Nice to meet you, Choso,” you extend a hand. “I’m (Y/n).”
The brush of your hand into his vicinity sends a breeze shifting through the loose strands of Choso’s hair, eyes stuck to your face as though he is in awe. You’re patient, awaiting his response as he breaks his eyes away from you for a split moment to glance at your hand. Your nails are painted with clear polish and your small fingers are decked in gold rings. Your palm, your skin, looks soft to the touch, like the whisper of a cloud.
Choso can suddenly hear his heartbeat in his ears, looking back up at you carefully. Your smile only brightens, hand still offered out.
He musters up the courage to raise his own and clasp yours, wrapping his fingers gently over yours, connecting your hands. He feels electricity jolt up his arms from where you are joined and over his chest, down his back, up his neck, and trickling over the expanse of his body. Your touch, softer, sweeter, and somehow kinder than your eyes consumes him, and he’s floored, taken, done. His eyes are on yours again, locked in a stupor and he can’t look away. 
Choso was doomed the moment he saw you, his life turning upside down and the trajectory of his world spinning on its heels. He did not know someone could be so mesmerizing, so captivating without the tricks of cursed energy or any other supernatural form of manipulation. Instead, you are simply you, breathtaking upon glance, rushing the blood in his body to his face and making his heart pump loudly before he can control it. You’re always so nice to him though he often does not know what to say to you when you come around. You ensure that he’s included in conversations, included in the focus of your eyes, and he is a goner, captured completely by the whim of your interaction.
He can’t help but stare at you when he thinks you’re not looking, at all of you. His full eyes study the way your hair sits atop your head, how it brushes against the nape of your smooth neck, tickling your skin sometimes to the point where goosebumps spread over it. Your hair is such a pretty color, a pretty texture, pretty length, and it compliments you so well, enhancing the already remarkable frame of your facial structure and features. 
He likes to look at the curve of your brow when you talk too. Occasionally, it twitches when you're vexed, curling downward or pointing up to dent the middle of your forehead, emphasizing your stress or frustration or confusion. The skin around your brows crinkles, then smooths out slowly once you have calmed. Your lashes have a tendency to brush against your brow when they’re drawn down too, fluttering against each other with blinks or touching a scrunched cheek like the graze of a feather when you smile, and your smile is one of his favorite things to capture.
Your lips spread wide and the corners of your mouth pinch your cheeks upward, teeth bearing with all their beauty when you beam or laugh at a joke you hear. Sometimes your smile does not reach your eyes, but when it does, they’re shining with the brilliance of a comet, creasing until they’re almost closed as your nose wrinkles and your radiant laughter graces the air. Choso likes to watch as you tilt your head back in amusement, too hysterical to keep it sitting upright. 
His eyes then travel to your throat, stretched under your chin, smooth, slender. He imagines his lips shyly touching the flushed skin there, the pulse of your heart beating against his mouth, and he’s flushing violently, turning his head away and resting his chin in his hand with his palm shielding his mouth, but he can’t keep his eyes off of you too long. You’re too addicting, like a drug he can’t quit, a craving he can’t satiate, so he’s staring at you once more, glancing lazily over your collarbones peeking out from your shirt, the teased sight far more sensual than it truly is in actuality.
He does not even know where to begin when it comes to looking at your body, his eyes unsure of where to focus because all of you is just too perfect. You could be sitting across from him, scrolling through your phone, and his eyes devour the way your shoulders slump and your arms tense, fingers dancing over the keys of your screen as you type a text and send it. Or when you’re walking beside him with Yuji, the outline of your breasts rubbing against the fabric of your shirt, bouncing almost unnoticeably with each step you take. Choso, his height serving to his advantage, can happen to see down your shirt every now and then, depending on your choice of clothing for the day. With sharp eyes and pink cheeks, he’s glancing over you and landing a peep of your cleavage. He tries to force himself to look away in shame when he catches wind of the sight, but now that he’s aware of it, his eyes continuously wander.
Then there’s your stomach, which he catches a glimpse of all by accident one day. You’re playing football with the teens, leaping around and sprinting with impressive agility, clad in a loose white tank and shorts. Choso, not much of a fan of sports, sits on a bench at the park and watches you all play. You’re on offense, squatting with an intense look of concentration on your face in front of Yuta, who’s quick to toss you the football and set the next round into action. You catch it to your chest, rounding Yuji who runs to cut you off, but before you can run into the opposite direction, Todo is slamming into you seemingly from out of nowhere and knocking you off your feet.
Choso stands, worry flooding him immediately when you hit the ground, and Itadori’s calling a timeout, turning to ask the burly man who tackled you what the hell he’s doing. You’re lying on the grass on your back with a pout, pride wounded by the fact that you were taken out by a teenager. Choso prepares to march over and help you up when he sees that your shirt has lifted up, revealing your sweaty glimmery abdomen rising and falling heavily. The pale skinned man’s eyes twitches, freezing in his path. His mouth runs dry, pupils blown wide at the sight of your dewey bare skin. 
Yuta reaches down to pull you up in the next few seconds before Choso can make it, and you march over to Todo to punch him in his hardened arm, demanding to know just how old he truly is because you find it hard to believe that a high school withholds such aggressive strength and mass. Choso has to excuse himself to the bathroom to douse water over his burning face, the image of you laying there with your stomach exposed burned into his brain. 
Along with your abdomen are your hips, hugged tightly in that damn pair of sporty shorts you chose to wear, the curves of your legs emphasized by the fabric, and, jesus, your legs. How can he forget those? He was practically drooling over the sight of them for hours as you played, the jiggle of your thighs when you run, the flex of your quads, and the glisten of your plump flesh under the baking sun hypnotizing him…
Choso splashes his face again, water dripping from his chin and into the sink as an uncomfortable tightness in his pants stretches. He looks down to discover his print poking aggressively against his sweats, and he’s groaning in agitation, in arousal, in humiliation. You’re going to end him one day, he’s sure, for every piece of you that his eyes greedily consume is more perfect than the last, more enticing, more captivating. 
He is utterly smitten with you, with the vision of you. It’s the first thing he sees when he wakes up in the morning and the last thing that stays with him before he goes to sleep. He’s helplessly taken by you and so he stares, every day, all day, refusing to allow you out of his sight when you are nearby.
And the day you run into him alone, accidentally stepping into his path and catching his eyes, he stammers, so damn nervous to be around you yet dreading the thought of you out of touch. You look up at him intensely, (e/c) eyes swimming in his own, and it’s the first time he can’t keep his eyes steady. He’s looking everywhere, at the sky, the ground, his feet, before they can stay on yours. 
His heart is hammering in his ears again, his face a tomato, and his brows knitted as though he is troubled. You continue to look at him closely, an unreadable emotion in your eye that draws you forward, that motivates you to grab his face abruptly, palms holding his cheeks as you pull him down to press your lips to his.
Choso’s eyes go wide, hands shaking as they hover over your hands in shock, thrown completely by your sudden contact. You pull away just as quickly as you kiss him, cloudy, blown pupils boring into his to search for some sort of reaction. He’s looking at you now, as he always does, but only this time, he’s up close. His lips are parted as he processes what has just happened, cold due to the re-established distance from you. He’s breathing heavily, your proximity to him and touch on his face threatening to burn him with how hot he’s getting.
He can’t think, flustered, but then his body is moving before his mind and his hands are grabbing your waist, the very same waist he has spent months gawking at from afar. He feels your hips within his palms, his dream manifesting into reality, and pulls your lips back to his. 
He’s moaning softly when you kiss again, allowing you to take the lead as your sweltering lips swim intoxicatingly against his, your arms winding around his neck as you tug him into you, mouths molded in sloppy connection. Choso’s a mess, hands massaging all over every part of you he can find, bunching your shirt up into his hands then soothing his palms beneath the fabric, rubbing gratefully over the curves in your bare spine. You curl into him, tilting your head, breaking away momentarily to breathe heatedly against each other’s mouths before crashing back in, pressing deeper, grasping harder.
Choso’s messy, grunts of desperation sinking into your mouth as he kisses you, chases and savors the taste of you that he never believed he’d get to experience. He doesn’t know what he’s doing himself, but his body seems to understand as he steps you backward blindly and presses you harshly against the brick of the nearby build, smothering you with his weight as your fingers tangle into his hair. 
You bite gently at his bottom lip and he groans, your tongue slipping eagerly into his wet cavern and tangling against his, rubbing tenderly and intertwining as if your souls are meant to touch. Choso’s body is aching with desire, skin balmy and face scrunched with intensity as he sinks into you, feeling you, holding you, relishing in you. You’re everywhere, in his hair, against his chest, your scent on his skin, and you kiss him like you need him to breathe, a nasty clash of teeth and tongue and saliva mixing into each other. He didn’t realize you could feel like this, so hot and assertive in your attack on his mouth when you’ve always been so tame. 
He loves it. He loves it, he needs it. He needs you. He loves you.
When you pull away, he’s chasing you, your head knocking back against the brick and his half lidded eyes opening to reveal heavy violet hues. You look over his face, stroking the back of his neck as the two of you breath heavily against each other, noses brushing and spit glossing your lips. You break into a breathless grin, cheeks flushed and eyes heavy with passion. Choso can’t even think, for the only thing on his mind is the vision of you in his arms, the feeling of you against him, and he’s mesmerized.
You bring your hand to swipe a thumb over his bottom, red, kiss swollen lip. He gazes at you fondly, hands sliding up and down your sides. You giggle softly, eyes lighting with the same light he saw in you upon first encounter.
“I was hoping you had been staring at me so much for a reason,” you whisper with an exhale, eyes creasing with a beam.
884 notes · View notes
aphroditesmoon · 9 months
Note
Okay but like…clarisse jealous?
I like a challenge when the prize is you
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clarisse la rue x fem!demigod!reader
warnings: platonic luke x reader, kissing, title is from center by sir chloe.
wc: 2.0k
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Today was your birthday, and though birthdays aren't exactly a big thing in camp half blood, considering there are probably more than 300 kids here, your cabin siblings decided to plan out a small party to celebrate it anyways.
You are easily one of the most highly respected demigod here. When you first arrived at camp, you held your ground and barely showed any fear nor awkwardness. You were friendly and charming but knew when to not take people's shit, that had earned you a favorable reputation and had gotten your godly parent to claim you after only being there for two weeks. 
People liked you. And because of the way you're perceived, they were all pretty surprised to find you in a secured relationship with the commonly known camp boogeyman.
You and Clarisse hit it off rather quickly. What started as a playful banter bloomed into a strongly bonded friendship, and then soon enough, became a romantic relationship. 
The two of you grounded eachother constantly, you compliment eachother personality wise, and you just have much more in common then people think. 
Equally as excited as your cabin siblings, Clarisse arrived right on time for your party in your cabin. The event was a private one, only your siblings and close friends are invited.
They had worked together baking a lovely raspberry cheese cake for you along with some brownies and chips. Despite it being your party, you were warned of stealing a taste of any of the food before the party begun.
You were immensely grateful when the clock finally hit 8pm and everyone invited finally arrived. "Can I cut the cake now?" You asked for the 5th time.
"Yes." Your siblings answered together, laughing at your excitement. Clarisse sat by your left, passing you the cake cutter. "Can you do it?" She mumbles as she watches you struggle to push it all the way down. 
You hummed positively and pressed on harder untik the knife finally reaches the bottom of the cake and everyone cheered. "There you go." You mutter to yourself.
Continuing to cut the rest of the cake, you soom began passing the pieces to everyone on paper plates before leaving the rest of it for yourself.
Clarisse was quick to scoop up a section of it with a spoon to wave it over your face. "Alright baby, you know how it goes, open up." Everyone else was laughing at the sentiment, but you weren't bothered by it at all, opening your mouth wide open for Clarisse to feed you like a mother does to her toddler. 
The party hat you were wearing really tied it all together. Nothing says festive more than a coney party hat with pink and yellow polka dots over them. 
"Oh this is amazing." You say with your mouth full, moaning at the taste. "Here, let me do it." You offered quickly,  taking the spoon from Clarisse to feed her the same way. 
If it was any other day, she'd rather die than get caught being babied like this, but it was your birthday, so automatically, you get a free pass. 
"Someone should take a photo." One of the girls called out, Clarisse' glare immediately shut her up. You laughed at her reaction, squeezing her cheek. "Oh no, you're grumpy again." She rolled her eyes and relaxed her face from all the frowning.
"I'm not grumpy, I just naturally look like this." She defends herself as she eats her portion of the cake. 
Music was playing on the back, a mix of Debussy and Tchaikovsky on shuffle as everyone knew how overwhelming loud party music made you feel.
It was all well and beautiful, everything went better than expected, and it's in these moments, surrounded by your loved ones and feeling your happiest, that you feel the luckiest in life. 
It was present sharing time when you heard your cabin door knocked on. You ignored it ar first, letting your sibling check on the visitor as you continue to open your presents. 
"Oh my god, it's a cat sweater!" You exclaimed at your sister's gift. She was only 10 with a passion for sewing and fashion, and she probably took days to make the sweater. You could see the slightly folded and unsymmetric edges, making it even more endearing. 
"You said it's your favourite animal." You nodded your head and bear hugged her. "It is, thank you for this." 
You were about to open your 4th present when your sibling that you had sent to check on the door came sprinting back. "Who is it?" You asked with a raised brow.
"It's, Luke." The name caused the noise around you to husb down. You could feel Clarisse stiffen next to you when you smiled. "Oh, is he joining us?" You doubt it, seeing as he wasn't exactly invited, and it was already so much people here.
"No, he said he wants to see you outside." 
You and Luke are as close as he is with anyone else. His face is usually what new campers are met with, being the leader of Hermes cabin and all, he's always taken the role of the mentor very naturally, never having a problem helping the new kids find where they belong.  
Clarisse unfortunately doesn't view your friendship with him as just that. You've seen the way she tries to size him up whenever he attempts to talk to you alone.
You stood up from your sitting position and ushered your friends and siblings to get back at the eating and dancing as you walk yourself out of the cabin to meet him.
Your hand slips away from Clarisse's. You give her a quick smile that meant 'don't worry about me', before you disappeared from her sight.
Just as you were informed, Luke is outside the door when you exit from it. He wears his easygoing grin when he sees you. You returned his smile and spoke his name.
"Hey." He greeted you. "Got the birthday girl a present." He shows you the small box he carried with him, wiggling his brows as he speaks.
"Oh, Luke, you shouldn't have." He shook his head at you nonchalantly. "Don't worry about it, just wanted to get you something." His presses the box into your hand and folded your fingers over it before taking a step back.
"Thank you, Luke." You tell him, meaning those words. He gives your shoulder a reassuring squeeze. "Your welcome. Now, I'm sure you'd like to go back to your party. See you tomorrow?" You nod your head.
"Alright then, have a good night, happy birthday." You waved at him as he walks off towards his own cabin, waiting until he's a few steps away before going back in. 
You were glad that no one really noticed you until you were near to the group to sit down. Though Clarisse's eyes were on you as soon as you entered the cabin.
Some of them stopped eating as they moved to seat crisscrossed closer to you. "What did he want?" One of them asked. 
You lifted the box up for them to see. They responded with an 'oooh' as they wait for you to open it. "It's so small." Your younger sibling noted, hovering above the box. "Maybe it's a ring." The other suggested. You snorted and shook your head.
"And where would he find a ring around here, less alone to make one." You knew it wasn't a ring. Besides the fact that he didn't have your ring size, he wouldn't give you such a bold gift that could cause a misunderstanding and piss of Clarisse at the same time. 
You opened it gently and awed at it's inside. It was a brooch. One in the size of your thumb. A golden coloured hibiscus engraved brooch. "This is lovely." You noted, letting everyone else look at it.
"It's fine." Clarisse countered, her nose scrunching at the view.
As your younger sibling held it in her hand to properly look at it, you reach over to Clarisse, intertwining your fingers together again. "What about you? No gift for little ol' me?" You ask her jokingly.
"Of course I got you a gift," she scoffed, leaning in to your side. "But I'm not gonna give it here. These chatterboxes can't be trusted."
"These chatterboxes are my siblings." She shrugged at your words. "Never said you weren't a chatterbox either." You gasped loudly, faking offense and lightly slapping her arm. Her grouch falls away, her pursed lips curved into a small smile. 
The rest of the party went well, you managed to get everyone to finish the food so there wouldn't be any leftovers. And despite the argument your cabin presented, you helped them cleanuo the mess and threw away the trash before ot was time to turn off the lights.
You made sure all your younger siblings have been tucked in and all your older ones are done with the chores before you and Clarisse leave the cabin past 11pm.
Some of the girls sent you teasing looks before you left,  but they all swore to secrecy and made sure to cover for you just incase Chiron or Mr.D heard of your little past curfew late night walks.
Once the two of you made it further into the woods, Clarisse pulls you by the arm to sit down next to her on the less harsher part of the grass. You immediately moved to wrap your arm around her neck, resting your head underneath her chin, she wraps her own arms around you and placed a chaste kiss on your hair. 
"Happy birthday." She whispers against your forehead. 
You looked up at her from your position and eyes her suspiciously. "I thought you said you had a present for me?"
A short laugh escapes her as she ruffles your hair. "My presence is not a gift enough for you?" You blinked and answered; "No." 
Clarisse laughs again and uses her right hand to pull something out of the inside pocket of her jacket. "Well, at least you're honest." She did not have a box or a wrapper like the others did. But your heart melted at the sight of the present still.
It was a string of pearls. A necklace. And you could tell from the shine and the ivory colour of it that they weren't fake pearls. They attracted you like a moth to a flame.
"Clarisse, this is beautiful." You told her, she passes it onto your hands and watch as you eye them closely. "I know. Better than the stupid pin." You brows raise at that, your gaze darts from the necklace to her face. 
"Careful Clar, some might say you sound a bit jealous." She huffs and winces at that. "I'm not jealous- I- I just...don't like him." 
"And why don't you like him?" You question her. "Because he keeps hitting on my girlfriend." She answers in a matter of factly tone. "Being nice doesn't equal flirting." You tell her.
"I know that. Does he know that?" 
Clarisse has never liked the way Luke talked to you, and sometimes you genuinely wonder if she was right and if it was you who never noticed any of his romantic advances. But your principle has always been straight to the point, if he doesn't say it outright, then it's not real.
"Well, he hasn't crossed a line so far, so I'd say yes." It wasn't that you're trying to defend Luke, you just don't see what he's done so far that deserves defending at all. 
Clarisse grunted in response and pulls you back into her arms. You refrain from holding her by placing your palms on her chest. "Wait, put it on me first." 
Something clicks behind her eyes like she just remembered about her gift. "Oh, right." You turn around with your back facing her. Clarisse places the pearls over your neck and hooks the back together in one try.
Twisting your body to face her again, you fiddled with the necklace and looked at her for approval. "Well?" She smiled as her fingers came close to your face to brush away the strands of hair covering your cheek. "It fits you." 
You let her pull you by the back of your head to kiss her, welcoming her lips with yours. 
Not that you'd ever admit it aloud, but having her by your side would always be the real birthday gift to you.
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