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pseudowho · 2 months

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"Itadori-kun. Good. You're on time."

Kento checked his watch, clearly distracted, as Yuuji approached with pocketed hands. The shopping centre was bustling, a hive of activity around them. Yuuji ruffled his own hair, unsure.

"Yeah, I just...wasn't sure why we're meeting here, is all."

Still distracted, Kento tapped off a message, before slipping his phone back into his inner pocket. He rarely offered smiles when there was business yet to be done, and today was no different.

"I was hoping for your assistance with a few errands before your school term ends. I'm sure you'll be busy with your friends after then, and I shouldn't like to take your vacation time. I'm sure you're looking forward to the break."

In truth, Yuuji deflated just at the thought of it; though he was an orphan amongst orphans, he didn't favour empty time in the way he used to, with memory and the devil as his constant companions. Still he smiled.

"Yeah! Can't wait. Got...got loads planned."

Kento read Yuuji, shrewd for a moment, before hyper-focusing on the task at hand.

"Quite. Come along, Yuuji."

Yuuji grew more and more flummoxed as Kento's list of errands tickered out before them. Too polite to question why, and with absolute faith that Kento had good reason to drag him along for the ride, Yuuji stomached it all with confused good grace.

Yuuji blinked, momentarily blinded by the flash of light in the photo booth. He grinned for the next photo, and Kento's cool deep voice rumbled past the curtain.

"No smiling, Yuuji."

"H-huh? How did you know?"

"Was I wrong?"

"Uh...sorry, Nanamin."

As a strip of tiny poe-faced photos clicked into the dispenser, Yuuji couldn't understand why Nanamin was so satisfied by such bland pictures. Yuuji was, however, touched; clearly Nanamin liked wallet photos as he liked his suits-- beige. Kento clipped across Yuuji's thoughts.

"Do you like the beach, Yuuji?"

Yuuji blinked. "The beach...?"

"Yes. The beach. Do you like it?"

"Uh...I guess. Why?"

Kento hummed, satisfied, not answering Yuuji's question. Instead, as he passed Yuuji his coffee, he stood and leaned around Yuuji, gently pulling at the back of Yuuji's collar. Yuuji twisted to look, baffled now, and Kento released him, sitting with another satisfied hum. He tapped on his phone again.

"Your identification documents are in your room at Jujutsu High?"

"Nanamin...what's this about?"

"It's important to take care of your documents, Yuuji."

"...so you're just...checking up on me?"

Kento smiled, polite. "Of course." A pause. "I assume you'd like to come back to ours for dinner?"

Yuuji brimmed with unasked questions. "I don't need to-- I'm not really that hungry-- honestly a coffee is great--"

"Mrs.Nanami has cooked extra."

"God, yes, please, I'm starving."

+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+

The summer vacation approached Yuuji like a black cloud. He could not bring himself to be excited for enforced inactivity; his casual offers to assist staff on missions fell on deaf ears. Gojo laughed Yuuji off with a clap on the shoulder. Yuuji smiled away the gentle rejection; he did not have the stomach to beg to work.

Instead, Yuuji stewed, leaning on his rainy windowsill until cicada buzz replaced the pitter-patter of water on earth. Late July arrived, unwelcome, and Yuuji steeped in a pit of dread.

At 2am, on the first day of summer vacation, Yuuji's phone rang. Bleary-eyed, and flat, he looked away from his computer screen and lowered his headset. He looked at his screen with a lurching gut; he answered the phone.

"Nanamin?"

A voice, rusty with sleeplessness. "Ah, Yuuji. I apologise for waking you at this hour. I need help with a mission. Are you available?"

Yuuji perked up immediately, tail wagging. "Y-yeah! Yeah, totally! I can be ready...er...in ten? Yeah?"

Kento's voice smiled. "Good. I'll pick you up."

Yuuji danced from his desk chair, shaking off his joggers and wriggling into his uniform with a grin, ruffling his hair before the mirror. In barely two minutes, he was ready, a spring in his step as he headed to wait outside. He felt so light, so relieved, and he grabbed his keys, opening his door to--

"Oh, shi--...Nanamin?"

Kento stood at the door, comfortable in loose clothes, and...sandals? It was an odd contrast to the backdrop of night, and Kento's usual attire. Kento smiled again, polite.

"Yes. Are you ready?"

"Y-yeah, I'm...how did you get here so fast?"

"The roads are quiet at this time of night, Yuuji."

A pause. "...Nanamin."

"Yuuji."

"Are you fucking with me?"

"Language."

When Yuuji opened his mouth to argue back, his jaw dropped, as you bustled up the corridor behind Kento with a sleepy grin on your face. You slapped Kento's elbow, shooting him a chastising look.

"Morning, Yuuji! Excited?" You pressed a kiss to his cheek, whirling past to invade his bedroom. Yuuji was speechless, horribly confused.

Kento checked his watch as you bustled around. Tapped his foot as you bustled around. Tutted, and leaned pointedly round the corner to stare at you as you bustled around.

"Darling, we're going to be la--"

"--don't give me attitude, Kento, we are about 6 hours early, and you know it--"

"--it pays off to check-in ahead of schedule--"

"--hush. I'll have words with you later."

Kento bristled, pugnacious. You walked out of Yuuji's room with his rucksack in hand. You pinched his chin, gesturing him along with your hand.

"Come on, Yuuji. Before Mr.Organised has conniptions."

Yuuji felt himself swept along by Kento, who still scoffed, mulish. The night air smelled sweet, and Yuuji found himself gently bodied into the back seat of Kento's car.

"--Nanamin-- I don't understand--"

You shot Kento a pointed look from the passenger seat. At first frowning, then with dawning realisation, you scolded Kento in disbelief.

"...you haven't told him."

Kento almost smirked as he rolled the car away over gravel. "I don't know what you mean."

You looked from Kento, to Yuuji, and back again. You reached slowly into Kento's bag, rummaging. Yuuji felt a glossy little book pressed into his hands.

"...a...passport?"

"...Kento didn't tell you."

Never one for expecting a gift, Yuuji couldn't see one when placed before his eyes. "Tell me what? Nanamin?"

Kento chuckled to himself, his eyes glimmering at Yuuji in the rearview mirror.

"Our flight is at 10:30, Yuuji."

Yuuji peered into the seat beside him; a new suitcase, neatly labelled with a luggage tag in his name. He yanked it to the seat beside him, unzipping it, and finding it full of new swimsuits, t-shirts, shorts, sandals, everything he could possibly need. He opened the glossy new passport in his hands, and hiccupped, his breath catching in his chest.

Yuuji rammed into realisation with prickling eyes, and a quiet sniffle, his eyes hidden in the dark. His reply was thick, stilted.

"Our flight...to where?"

"Malaysia. Now give me back that passport. You'll only lose it."

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mariasont · 4 months

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Tie a Tie - S.R

a/n: i'm a slut for a good tie

masterlist

₊˚ ✩°｡⋆♡ ⋆˙⟡♡ ⋆˙⟡♡⋆｡°✩˚₊‧

pairings: spencer reid x bimbo!receptionist!reader

summary: you ask spencer to teach you how to tie a tie

warnings: cuties being cute!

wc: 1.2k

"How do you tie a tie?"

The question and the voice attached to it made Spencer do a double take, his pencil pausing mid-stroke. He directed he gaze upward, and there you were. Beside his desk. Looking angelic as ever.

Today, your hair was embellished with ribbons, pretty pink bows tied neatly above your two braids. It was cute.

You hardly visited at his desk, in fact, this might be the first time. He had always been the one to seek you out at your receptionist desk.

He realized the lapse in conversation had gone on longer than what social norms dictate. He cleared his throat and reached up to rub his neck, offering you sheepish yet attentive look.

"Do I have something on my face?" The question came with an uncharacteristic frown that didn't suit you. A shimmering nail reached up, brushing your cheek as he fought the urge to replace your hand with his.

"No, no sorry," he assured quickly, a sense of equilibrium returning as your mouth flipped into a bright smile. "Just--, you want to know how to tie a tie?"

His intention wasn't to question you, but he was curious. What did you need to know how to tie a tie for? The answer seemed clear, yet unwelcome, as he begrudgingly considered the possibility of a significant other in your life, leaving a sour taste in his mouth.

"Yes," you affirmed, nodding like one of those dashboard bobbleheads, sending your ribbons dancing. "There's this outfit on Pinterest that I wanted to recreate, but it needs a tie, and well, I immediately thought of you, Dr. Reid. You're the tie expert, after all. I know you're super busy, so it's totally okay if now isn't a good time, but maybe you could text me? Or write it down, or--"

The tension dissipated from his frame, and he interjected with a soft smile. "Yeah, no problem at all. I'll teach you," he said, rising to grab an empty chair. He placed it opposite his, motioning for you to take a seat. "And please, It's Spencer."

He doesn't know how many times he's told you that Dr. Reid sounded too formal coming from you.

"Oh, right, Spencer." They way his name rolled off your tongue sent a wave of warmth through him. You bit your lip, crossing one leg over the other, the tip of your kitten heel brushing his calve in the process. "Thank you so much. I tried to watch YouTube tutorials, but it wasn't really working out."

"It's no problem," he said, trying to keep his cool as his surveyed the vacant office, immensely grateful the team was out on a case, and he was left behind to work on documents.

It wasn't that he was embarrassed by you, he would be an idiot to feel that way. He was embarrassed by how utterly out of control he felt around you. "Uh, here--"

His hands moved with practiced ease, a brief hesitation passing before he placed it around your neck. Your smile was disarming, compelling him to avert his gaze to prevent any impulsive actions. Gently, he swept your hair aside at the nape of your neck, careful not to entangle it with the fabric.

Spencer's fingers stalled, suspended over the smooth silk encircling you. The awareness of your focused gaze was palpable, almost tangible.

"Okay," he started, his tone even despite the butterflies attacking at his stomach. "The first thing you need to do is cross the long end over the short end, like this."

He illustrated the motion, his hands lightly skimming over your collarbone, eliciting a soft giggle from the unexpected tickle.

"Like this?" you repeated, your tongue making a brief appearance against your pink stained lips, trying to follow his lead.

"Exactly," he confirmed with a nod, smile inching across his face. "Now you bring the long end up through the loop around your neck."

His touch was light on the fabric, his fingertips just grazing the skin below your ear, a reaction visible in the slight shiver that traveled over you, goosebumps taking over.

You watched his every move, your head tilting to the side, a lock of hair falling into your face. "And then?"

"Now, you fold it down through the knot you've just made." Spencer's voice was soft, almost a whisper, as he focused on the task at hand. "Pull it all the way though, and then adjust the tightness by holding the short end and sliding the knot up."

With his guidance, you managed to complete the knot. "I did it!"

The excitement in your eyes was infectious, and he felt the rosy hue take over his face, a blush he couldn't contain at the sight of you. His laughter spilled out in response.

"You're a quick learner." His hands remained on the tie, a touch too long, maybe.

The intrusive ring of his phone fractured the moment, like a glass dropping on hard ground. He glanced at the caller ID--Hotch, of course--and sighed.

"Sorry, I have to take this."

"It's okay. Thank you for the help, Spencer."

Spencer almost died the moment you entered the bullpen the next morning, almost toppling over and dying of asphyxiation because of how easily you took his breath away.

There you were, in what he could only deduce was the Pinterest inspired outfit, a pink tie neatly arranged around your neck, its tail slipped into the waistband of your skirt.

"Spencer, you forgot your tie yesterday," you called out, extending the forgotten piece of fabric with a smile.

A red akin to a ripe strawberry bloomed across Spencer's face as he watched Morgan and Prentiss freeze mid-step, exchanging knowing looks as they glanced between you two.

"Reid, what's this about a tie?"

Of course, Morgan was butting in, because it just wouldn't be a normal day of work if he wasn't.

"It's not--We didn't--," he faltered, his eyes meeting yours, finding an innocent cluelessness to the implications around them. Opting to dismiss the others, he focused on you, taking the tie with hands that weren't quite steady. "I mean, thank you."

You simply beamed at him.

"Do you like my outfit?" you asked, doing a little twirl that made the hem of your skirt flare out. He had to avert his eyes, knowing that the way he was looking you over would certainly not be perceived as innocent. "I got your text with the instructions. It was so sweet because I definitely did not remember everything you said yesterday. It gets kind of confusing with all the steps."

He was momentarily lost for words. "It's... you look... amazing."

Spencer was still fumbling for words when you stepped closer, the soft scent of your perfume wrapping around him.

"Well, it's all thanks to you."

Before he could respond, your rose onto the balls of your feet and planted a gentle kiss on his cheek. It was quick, innocent, but it left his knees feeling like they might buckle

As you pulled away, his skin tingled where your lips had been, and he stood there, utterly dumbstruck, his face a canvas painted with various shades of pink.

Morgan stared at him, his eyebrows raised in silent question, but Spencer didn't care. For a short moment, he didn't care about anything else--not the case files, not the teasing of his colleagues, not the world outside. There was only the warmth on his cheek and the sudden lightness in his chest.

He decided this was his new lucky tie.

taglist: @hotchhner @khxna

#spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x bimbo reader #spencer reid x fem reader #spencer reid x receptionist #spencer reid #spencer reid fluff #criminal minds #dr reid #reid #criminal minds fluff #Spotify

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catkin-morgs-kookaburralover · 2 years

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#ahhh now i see it #tis not merely trying to replace emotional pain #sometimes it's just trying to replace other more unwelcome and problematic physical issues #in case anyone reads through the lines here #no #im absolutely fine and safe and unharmed just it would be nice if i had some other physical distraction from nausea #bu tnope i am not even doing the innocent litlte things like wrenching fingers out of joint (and they never stay that way either anyway) i #am being a v good chile #and i am peacefully and annoyedly taking meself off to hopefully sleep it off #hahaha whch is foolish of me bc its kinda a fact of life at this point #disregard me rambling #catkin rambles

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sunderwight · 5 months

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Thinking about a scenario where (pre-Plot Happening) Mobei Jun and Shang Qinghua have a tiff, and Shang Qinghua goes back to his peak and honestly he isn't trying to make MBJ apologize first or anything, he just gets so busy that he doesn't have time to grovel (kind of forgets they had an argument in the first place because it's not like MBJ is going to kill him YET unless he does something really egregious, they're on a schedule), but Mobei Jun is just fuming in his ice palace like "that asshole thinks I can't replace him, I can absolutely replace him, he's sooo replaceable" and etc.

So Mobei Jun tries it. He's going to hire himself another evil advisor. Another groveling rat minion. Maybe a dozen groveling rat minions! He's a demon king, these sorts of people are not hard to find. They can't all be working for his shitstain uncle!

And they aren't, of course. Finding a minion who is loyal to Mobei Jun (well, relatively) rather than any of his rivals actually isn't that hard. Mobei Jun is the most promising demon strength-wise of his generation, he's the direct heir, and he's less absent from court than his father and less treacherous and scheme-y than his uncle. There's a whole crowd he appeals to, who serve him readily and have no motive to turn on him.

But.

Turns out that there is a specific combination of traits which Shang Qinghua brought to the table, and none of his new groveling sycophants have it. The ones who are the best at sucking up also tend to be the worst at having actual skills. The ones who are good at their assigned tasks don't have much of an interest in complimenting his tits or telling him this or that cloak really brings out his eyes. The ones who do tell him those kinds of things also keep turning up in his bed, which is unwelcome and annoying. No one can offer him nebulous sort-of-prophetic insights to the goings-on of his realm either, or if they try to, they turn out to be hacks and charlatans with woefully low accuracy rates. A lot of them just outright lie to try and manipulate him against their rivals or enemies.

Within a week Mobei Jun is frazzled, exhausted, and finally ready to apologize.

He shows up on An Ding Peak and slaps Shang Qinghua across the face. The most self-debasing sign of desire that he can extend. Open palm and everything. He's practically on his knees begging Shang Qinghua for forgiveness (he's not actually, though, after all he's still extremely arrogant demon royalty).

Several years into the future, Shang Qinghua will dimly recollect the incident after actually learning about demon courtship customs (he wrote them, doesn't mean he was actually paying attention to them) and ask what that was about, and Mobei Jun will have a Hollywood style PTSD flashback both to that and to the second time he and SQH had a big fight and SQH left, and not properly answer him.

#svsss #moshang #scum villain's self saving system #scum villain #airplane writing pidw: aha if I make it backwards land then I can have sexy scenes of the demon wives slapping bingge without making him su #shang qinghua like 50 years later: where the fuck did all this complex ritualized social violence come from???#mobei jun has extremely high standards for evil minions and did not even realize it until that day

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vanteguccir · 1 month

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hey ❤️ can you make chris x reader where she start to feel really sick in the middle of the video and he take her out of the car and take care of her??

── ୨୧ !　BLURB

chris sturniolo x reader

where your low blood pressure and weak stomach decide to make a show during a car video ;(

　　　༻✦༺ 　༻✧༺　༻✦༺

It was night when the group of four found themselves inside Matt's car. Chris had taken his usual place in the passenger seat, his laughter already bubbling up as Matt fiddled with the camera settings from the driver’s seat, while Nick occupied the back seat beside Y/N.

They had just eaten a pile of fast food, the wrappers still littering the floor of the car. Y/N had smiled through every bite, eager to join in the recording, even though greasy burgers and fries weren’t her usual fare.

As the camera rolled, Nick cracked a joke - as usual -, and Chris doubled over, laughter making his eyes crinkle at the corners. He was animated, his hands gesturing wildly as he recounted a particularly funny incident involving Matt.

Y/N giggled along, trying to keep her smile steady, but she could feel a heavy unease settling in her stomach, an unwelcome discomfort that she couldn’t shake. She shifted in her seat, attempting to find a more comfortable position, but it only made the nauseous sensation swirl more violently.

Her face, usually so vibrant with laughter, began to pale as she pressed a hand to her stomach, willing herself to keep it together. The boys were too engrossed in their banter to notice at first, but Chris, ever so attuned to Y/N, felt a strange pull at the back of his mind, like a sixth sense.

Chris��s attention drifted, mid-laugh, his head turning slightly as if he could sense something was off. He caught a glimpse of Y/N in the rearview mirror, her face now slightly contorted in discomfort, her eyes no longer sparkling with the joy they usually held. His smile faded instantly, concern etching across his features.

"Hey, you good back there?" He asked, his voice cutting through the playful chaos. Matt and Nick paused, their heads turning to look at Y/N, who was now biting her lower lip, her hands clutching the edge of the seat.

Y/N tried to muster a reassuring smile, but it came out more as a grimace.

"Yeah, I’m fine." She said weakly, though the tremor in her voice betrayed her. She felt a wave of dizziness sweep over her, and her stomach churned, making her feel queasy.

Chris wasn’t buying it. His brows furrowed as he twisted in his seat to get a better look at her. Her skin had lost its usual glow, replaced with a clammy sheen. Instinctively, he unbuckled his seatbelt and turned around, leaning into the back seat with genuine concern written all over his face.

"Babe, you don’t look fine." Chris said softly, his voice laced with worry. He reached out to touch her forehead, his hand cool against her skin. She leaned into his touch slightly, eyes closing as she tried to steady her breathing. "You’re really pale. What’s going on? Is it your blood pressure?" He pressed gently, his thumb brushing lightly against her cheek.

Y/N nodded, swallowing hard as she leaned her head back against the seat.

"I think it’s the food." She admitted quietly. "I’m not used to eating so much junk food at once. I’m really starting to feel sick, and i feel my blood pressure falling again." Her voice was barely a whisper, and she looked at him with eyes that silently begged for comfort.

Chris’s heart clenched at the sight of her discomfort. He hated seeing her like this, knowing she was in pain. The playful atmosphere from a moment ago was completely gone, replaced by a quiet tension as Nick and Matt exchanged worried glances.

Without missing a beat, Chris was already moving.

"Okay, let’s get you out of here." He said decisively, his tone firm yet soothing. He pushed open his door and quickly got out of the car, opening the back door to help Y/N out. Nick shifted to the side to give her space as Chris reached in, his arms slipping around Y/N’s shoulders and waist. "Come on, easy." He murmured, guiding her out of the car.

Y/N leaned heavily against him, grateful for his support. The cool evening air hit her as soon as she stepped out, a welcome relief against her flushed skin. Chris kept a steady arm around her, his other hand holding hers as he led her a few steps away from the car.

Once they were a safe distance from the car, Chris turned Y/N to face him, his hands gently cupping her cheeks.

"Look at me, baby." He said softly, his voice a balm against her unease. She opened her eyes to meet his, and he offered her a small, comforting smile. "Just breathe, okay? Nice and slow. I’ve got you." He rubbed his thumbs gently along her jawline, his touch feather-light.

Y/N nodded, taking a shaky breath in through her nose, then exhaling slowly. Chris’s presence was a steady anchor, his hands warm against her skin. The nausea was still there, lurking, but his calm, steady gaze helped to ground her.

Behind them, Matt and Nick watched from the car, their expressions a mix of concern and relief, knowing Chris had everything under control. Matt leaned forward, his eyes scanning Y/N’s face.

"Do you want some water? We have a bottle in the car." He offered, ready to jump into action. Nick nodded in agreement, his usual playful demeanor replaced by a serious look.

Y/N managed a small smile, touched by their concern.

"Water would be great." She said, her voice still a bit weak. Matt immediately turned to grab a bottle from the front, tossing it to Chris, who caught it effortlessly. He uncapped it and held it to Y/N’s lips, watching as she took a few small sips. "Thanks." Y/N murmured after a few gulps, feeling slightly better.

Chris nodded, still holding the bottle as he pulled her into a gentle embrace, his chin resting atop her head. He could feel the tension in her body slowly start to melt away, her breathing evening out as he held her close.

"You’re okay." Chris whispered, his voice low and soothing. "I’m right here. You’re going to be okay." He continued to rub her back in slow circles, his touch gentle yet reassuring.

Y/N buried her face in his chest, inhaling his familiar scent, feeling the warmth of his body seep into hers. The nausea was still there, but Chris’s presence made it bearable.

After a few moments, Y/N pulled back slightly to look up at Chris, her eyes still a little glassy.

"I’m sorry for ruining the video." She said softly, her voice tinged with guilt. Chris immediately shook his head, his expression softening.

"Don’t say that." He said gently. "You’re more important than any video. We can always film another time. I just want you to feel better." He brushed a strand of hair away from her face, tucking it behind her ear.

#⋆౨ৎ˚ 𝒍𝒆𝒍𝒆 𝒂𝒔𝒌𝒔 #chris sturniolo #sturniolo x reader #matt sturniolo #sturniolo triplets #nick sturniolo #x reader #chris sturniolo x reader #chris sturniolo x reader fluff #chris sturniolo x fem reader #chris sturniolo x you #chris sturniolo x yn #chris sturniolo imagine #chris sturiolo fanfic #chris sturniolo blurb #chris sturniolo fluff #fluff #angst #sick!reader

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cloudiinumaki · 1 month

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like a faint ghost.

SCENARIO ! — you give them the silent treatment.

CHARACTERS ! — megumi fushiguro, yuji itadori, satoru gojo (separate, obviously).

WARNINGS ! — sassy man apocalypse strikes again (but not yuji he's safe)

REQUESTS OPEN !

MEGUMI.

— regardless of whether your argument was more his fault or yours, megumi will try (and fail) to make it seem like the whole thing doesn't bother him, hoping that his high-strung emotions aren't as obvious as it feels like. so, when you end up giving him the silent treatment, purposefully not showing him the affection you usually would and acting much more distant than usual, he ends up replicating that same behaviour.

yes, it's definitely petty on his end, but he'll match your energy when it comes to it, and if you're being petty, then so will he. honestly, you two aren't even the type to argue often, megumi much more willing to just speak plainly about whatever's bothering him than you might first think. why get into needless arguments? it'll sometimes be difficult, but he'd much prefer to just talk about it with you.

but, when you do argue? silly stuff like this ends up happening.

nobara and yuji were probably the first to notice this playing out between you, unable to ignore the sudden frigid atmosphere that would prevail the moment you two were in the same room as each other.

yuji and nobara will try to lighten the mood, though you notice them sharing glances every so often, almost as if they've telepathically come to the conclusion that you two had just argued. they don't worry about it too much, because even if it's quite clear that megumi has a much shorter tolerance for their mischief than usual, and your usual smile has been replaced with a slight frown, that one of you will eventually cave in. knowing that, they won't interrupt whatever's going on with you two.

honestly, if the argument was his fault, megumi would be the one to cave first. try as he might to act unaffected by your usual kind gestures and warm love, he does miss your smiles and is not a fan of this unwelcome silence that's settled between the two of you.

he'll head to your dorm room in the evening (not wanting to be noticed by any of the others), and whilst his words will be graceless as he's unused to this sort of scenario and expressing feelings in general, he'll apologise to you. and, despite your previous irritation, you do have to concede that it's clear his words are genuine. you know megumi, after all; when he means something, he means it whole-heartedly.

but, if you're clearly in the wrong when it comes to the argument, and then you decide to go silent on him… he'll be irritated, to say the least. in that case, he won't cave so easily, considering the whole situation, and it will have to be you to reach out and apologise.

he'll forgive you if you apologise, as long as you haven't done something insane, but you do notice that he's more reticent for a little while after. and, if you don't apologise, the silence will continue as long as you refuse.

YUJI.

— it's definitely not an understatement to say that yuji is genuinely heartbroken when he notices you disregarding him after an argument. honestly, he's not sure what it sparked from, but that doesn't temper the intense guilt he feels at knowing he's the one who's made you feel so upset.

if the argument's his fault, then he will immediately apologise, and it's quite clear that it's been weighing down on him. seeing your silence and your uncomfortably cold gaze regarding him, yuji honestly can't stand it. it's so unlike you, and whilst he knows you're clearly forcing it, it doesn't stop him from being uncomfortable with it entirely.

yuji's always been proud to be the one to make you smile the most, laugh the most, the happiest, and so you can see his genuine care for your relationship in how he apologises, picking his words carefully and saying them with sincerity.

i'm not even going to consider you not forgiving him, to be honest, but just know the concept of that happening terrifies yuji beyond belief.

when you inevitably forgive him and finally end your silent streak, the warm hug he gives you is near bone-crushing, and you have to remind him to be a little more gentle. quickly stumbling over his words of apologies, he gives you a little air, but it's clear that a weight has been lifted off of him from seeing your amused smile at that, knowing that you've forgiven him.

after that, whatever mistake that caused the argument, yuji will make sure not to let it happen again. he's always been considerate, but after any argument, he takes into close consideration what caused it and ensures that it won't happen again. he cares about you and what you feel, so he'll pay the extra attention and ensure that the mistake he made, doesn't repeat.

i think yuji's definitely a person who's open to self-growth, and strives to improve himself, not just for him, but also for the people around him so he doesn't affect them badly or cause hurt to them. he only wants to help people, after all.

and, because of everything i've described, it should be obvious that you two don't argue very often.

if the argument was not his fault, however, and you're decisively in the wrong— then, he'll still want to return to normal with you, as he much prefers hearing your laughter over the awkward silence of the room, and misses your kisses too.

but, at the same time, he does note that it's a little crazy that, after an argument where you're squarely in the wrong, you're the one who decides to go silent on him. nothing about that is lining up. he's not a fan of the pettiness, to be honest, and you'll notice from his demeanour that he's not happy with the whole situation (even as he tries to remain his usual upbeat self).

still, i don't think he'd go as far as to mimic that silent treatment. instead, he'll urge that you talk about it with him so you can clear up this stupid misunderstanding. he won't compromise on where he knows he's correct just to ease your irritation, but he'll try his best to reach a good conclusion to the disagreement for both of you, knowing that he much prefers seeing you happy.

given how he tries to have a calm conversation with you about it to try understand your point of view whilst not compromising on his own belief, it's difficult to not realise where you've messed up and apologise.

you don't like seeing him so dejected after all.

SATORU.

— compared to the other two, i do think that satoru would definitely take this silent treatment way less seriously. i think he would be teasing about the whole thing, trying to see how far he can push your buttons without you actually getting mad at him— the moment that you do is the moment that he stops— and he's honestly interested to see how long you'll last in being mad at him.

satoru definitely knows when he can or can't tease you, he's learnt to read your facial expressions so well, but it almost irritates you more how light-hearted he is about everything, trying to coax you back into talking to him by getting your favourite dessert from an entire different prefecture (one of the many benefits of being able to teleport…) and bringing up your favourite topics.

if you do end up cracking, he'll be smug about it, honestly, but he's not an asshole— and will probably try to actually speak with you about the argument to fix the problem. then again, he'll only do that depending on the argument, as whilst he's great at making jokes and bringing up the mood, conversations where he has to be emotionally vulnerable with you?

not as easy.

but, if, somehow, you manage to hold strong and continue to ignore him for a while, those earlier jokes of his start to fade and satoru honestly begins to feel decisively 'off'.

seeing you continue to brush him off so easily, noticing your clenched fists at your remaining irritation, it's all so unusual… and unwelcome to him. he doesn't want to ruin your relationship, one of the few things he truly allows himself to indulge in, so if the argument wasn't too big, he'll bite the bullet and apologise.

of course, that apology is said behind that usual cheerful tone of his (he can never truly be vulnerable), but you notice the slight hint of anxiety in his cerulean blue eyes as he waits for your reply. it's a concealed moment of weakness for him, rare even between your relationship, but he won't let something this good go down the drain just because of him. not again.

still, when it comes to satoru, it's way better that you just try to talk about it with him even if it's difficult, as he's much more likely to misread the situation as being less serious than it actually is if you decide to resolve to petty means.

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tiannasfanfic · 10 months

Text

Not the Wavemother

Astarion x Reader (Fluff)

| Astarion Masterlist | Main Masterlist | AO3 Link |

Summary: Astarion notices your discomfort while you’re trying on your new clothing.

Rating: General Audiences

Author Note: Gender neutral Reader/Tav, they/them pronouns (if any). Spawn!Astarion x Reader/Tav. No class or race for Reader is mentioned in story. No physical description of Reader either, just a general description of how the dress fits. Mild hurt/comfort for Reader with fluffy ending.

CW: Uncomfortable clothes; uncomfortable attention from said clothes; mild innuendo at the end.

Word Count: 9,87

It had taken some convincing, but after a little bit of badgering, everyone finally talked you into trying on the outfit the Wavemother had given you.

You had been very hesitant, took your time changing and only came out after some encouragement from Karlach and Shadowheart.

Everyone fell silent though when you stepped out of your tent.

You looked breathtaking.

The dress was cut within an inch of your life, the fabric hugging close to your body like a second skin. The stooped neckline was exceptionally low, sitting just below your navel, while the slits up both sides of the skirt came just below your hips, showing a considerable amount of skin.

Had Astarion’s heart still beat, he was quite sure it would’ve stopped right then.

Even though he had seen you fully naked, he couldn’t help but stare as you slowly twirled around, letting everyone see the dress on you from all angles. A warm, tingling feeling spread through his abdomen and his stomach felt like it was full of butterflies. It unsettled him at first until he realized what it was.

Desire.

It wasn’t a feeling he was accustomed to yet. While it wasn’t entirely unwelcome with you, it still felt odd to want someone in a physical manner. Before you, he couldn’t remember the last time he was with someone to fulfill his own needs, much less with someone he desired.

But after staring at you for a while, he noticed something was off.

You weren’t holding yourself like you normally would. While you were standing tall and proud, your shoulders were stiff, your posture just slightly hunched. You took everyone’s compliments and comments graciously, a polite smile on your face that was devoid of most emotion.

Suddenly, it dawned on him what it was he was seeing and the warm tingle in his stomach was replaced with a cold knot.

You were severely uncomfortable.

While you were no stranger to tight clothing and even occasionally showed some skin around camp on the warm nights, your normal choices didn’t garner much, if any, attention. Now everyone was looking at you appraisingly and showering you with praise, even Mizora.

And, with each compliment, your expression withdrew a little bit more.

By the time you turned to Astarion, your face was still a polite mask, but the glint you normally had in your eyes wasn’t there.

“You’re bring quiet, Astarion,” you stated, your voice politely neutral. “What do you think?”

It took him one second to decide how best to proceed.

He took a step back and took a long look at you, but it was a thoughtful gaze, as if you were a complicated trap he was about to disarm rather than someone intensely attractive to him.

“Honestly, it doesn’t look very functional to me,” he finally stated, a critical tone to his voice as he pried his gaze up from the dress to your eyes. “It is very cute, but one arrow and you’re done for, darling.”

Astarion’s words had an immediate effect. The stiffness in your posture eased some and your face slightly relaxed.

“Ah, c’mon, Astarion! That’s all you’re going to say?” Karlach said, then she clapped you on the back. “Tav is smokin’ hot right now!”

There was a slight wrinkle in your forehead, so slight anyone would’ve missed it had they not been paying close attention.

Fortunately for Astarion, he was, and already knew how to proceed.

“They are very hot, yes, but I’d much prefer them alive,” he stated, then met your gaze again. “Now, darling, why don’t you go get yourself changed before you catch a cold.”

Everyone booed at him as you hurried back into your tent, Halsin even called him a party pooper, but he didn’t care. He had caught a glimpse of the relief on your face just before you turned to go and that was all that mattered to him.

After changing back into your camp clothes, you were back to your normal self, rejoining everyone at the campfire in a pleasant mood. You took your normal place next to Astarion and slipped his arm around your back. You leaned into his side, your head resting on his shoulder.

Now that the dress was put away, everyone seemed to forget about it and began settling into their nightly routines, leaving you two to watch the fire.

You both were quiet for a while, just watching the flames and enjoying each other’s company, but after a few minutes, you broke the silence.

“I just realized something,” you said.

“Hmm?” he hummed. “And what would that be, darling?”

“You never said what you thought of the dress,” you said, then tilted your head to look up at him. “And you were staring pretty hard, too.”

Astarion looked down at you and carefully studied your expression, looking for any signs of discomfort about the topic. When he didn’t see any on your face, only a little bit of anticipation at his response, he knew you were okay with him speaking freely.

“You looked absolutely stunning, my love,” he said, softly kissing you on the forehead before dropping his voice to a soft murmur only you could hear. “In fact, one day when we have more private accommodations, I certainly wouldn’t mind if you ever wanted to wear it again just for me.”

You blinked up at him in surprise, your cheeks heating up in a blush at his implication. While you were far from a blushing virgin, it wasn’t hard for him to make you a bit flustered.

“Oh really?” you said, then smiled playfully up at him after he nodded. “In that case, I could possibly be persuaded to wear it again.”

He smiled gleefully and kissed you on the forehead again, which elicited a soft giggle from you, before resting his cheek on the top of your head as he returned his gaze back to the fire.

#astarion #astarion fluff #astarion x reader #astarion x you #astarion x tav #astarion fanfic #astarion imagine #astarion oneshot #astarion blurb #astarion drabble #astarion romance #astarion angst #astarion acunin #spawn!astarion #bg3 fanfiction

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bokutosbiceps · 10 months

Text

bodyguard boyfriend

eustass kid/monkey d luffy/roronoa zoro/trafalgar d water law/vinsmoke sanji x gn!reader | fluff | ~900 words

warnings: some suggestive/18+ themes but nothing explicit, cursing

a/n: okay, this was heavily inspired by @pileofmush because she wrote such a beautiful match up for me + zoro that i started to think about how some of my fav boys would be protective over their s/o !! this is more comedic than romantic but i had such a good time writing it :3

18+ MDNI

eustass kid isn't afraid to straight up tell someone to fuck off. he’ll sneer at them through gritted teeth as he stands behind you, keeping a protective hand on the small of your back. if that alone is not enough to send anyone in a twenty foot vicinity scurrying away, he'll approach whoever has their eyes set on you.

“what the fuck do you think you're looking at?” kid will cross his arms and make himself look bigger, which really isn't necessary with his nearly seven foot frame. “get lost, you piece of shit, or i'll make you regret it.”

if this person isn't stupid, they'll immediately obey and never show their face around you again.

you're always oblivious to others’ attention, though, since kid takes care of it so quickly.

“where'd you go?” you’d ask, looking over your shoulder as kid returned to you.

“nowhere, doll, nothin’ to worry about.” he’d say gruffly before assuming his rightful place next to you and draping an arm over your shoulders.

monkey d luffy doesn't ever get jealous! he doesn't mind if you talk to other people who may or may not be attractive to you, and he doesn't mind if people blatantly hit on you. it's not like he’d ever really pick up on the fact that someone's flirting with you, anyway.

there are times when he becomes protective, though, and that is if someone is harassing you relentlessly, despite your attempts to free yourself from the situation.

he’ll place himself between you and the assailant, his arms outstretched as he herds you behind him. all he has to do is glare at them, and the cheerful boy who'd been by your side is quickly replaced by your strong and capable boyfriend, who’d fight the gods themselves to keep you safe and sound.

“leave ‘em alone.” he'd say lowly, and that's the only thing he’d have to do. afterwards, he'd wrap his limbs all the way around you and rub his cheek against yours, speaking to you in a soft voice but with a huge grin on his face to try and cheer you up.

“you doin’ okay? i got rid of ‘em for ya. you'll never hafta worry about ‘em again!”

roronoa zoro is hyper aware of all of his surroundings. every time you're in public, he notices anyone and everyone who happens to even look in your direction. you'd never know it, though, since he's always good at keeping his cool and aloof in most situations.

“i don’ like the way that person is lookin’ atcha.” zoro would grunt, keeping one hand on his swords and the other wrapped around your waist, fingers pressing into your skin.

“ro, there's no one looking at me. calm down.” you'd say with a chuckle. “be my boyfriend, not my guard dog.”

he'd narrow his eyes at you, a very subtle frown grazing his lips, but he'd comply nonetheless. you're right, after all, there's nothing to worry about.

so he'd just resort to being glued to your backside, hands on your hips and head on a swivel, glaring daggers at this person until they slink away. once they're gone, he'd smirk and huff a satisfied chuckle, letting himself relax as he rests his head in the crook of your neck and closes his eyes. yeah, he's not too worried about it.

trafalgar d water law doesn't typically get jealous. if he does, he'll hold it in his heart and let it weigh heavy on his chest and just send death wishes to whoever is taking your attention away at the moment. it's very easy for him to get you out of these situations, though. he doesn't really want to deal with conflict, he's too tired for that shit. so he has a very simple solution.

he’ll approach you and the unwelcome stranger, sighing and taking his hands out of his pockets.

“room.” law raises his hand, sending a devious smirk from underneath his cap toward the stranger. “shambles.”

and then the stranger would be gone, simple as that.

you'd turn to law with an exasperated look. “you just can't help yourself can you?”

he would just exhale a chuckle and pull you close with one arm, not saying a word.

vinsmoke sanji becomes aggressively aware immediately after anyone of the opposite sex expresses even the most minute amount of interest in you. it could be a smile that looks just a little to friendly or a glance that lasts a little too long, he's on it.

he won't let you notice, though. he'll keep his loving and cheerful demeanor, speaking to you in a sweet voice and continuing to call you by your pet name whenever you speak to him. but he's going to be stalking around you, blocking the pursuer’s line of sight with his body while keeping his hands on your hips.

“i’ll be right back, darling!” he’d tilt your chin up to place a sweet kiss to your lips before quickly approaching the stranger and grabbing them by their collar, dragging them out of the area.

he wouldn't physically harm them, but he'd shove them against a wall and threaten the fuck out of them. “if you ever so much as look at my precious y/n-chan again, i will personally deliver you to hell.”

then he'd be off, running back to your arms with such zest and sweet excitement!

taglist: @kingofthe-egirls @chopperwithouthishat @usoppsstar + mush but she's already tagged lolol

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urfavlarry · 4 months

Note

hi! can u write about a drunk love confession lolll 😭🎀

Why’d you only call me when your high?

Joost Klein x fem!reader

warnings: swearing, bad grammar, mentions of alc0hol

summary: you and Joost have been friends for a few years now but ever since he got more recognized after his song ‘friesenjung’ came out you both became more distant. What will you do after he calls you for the first time in months, drunk?

A/N: this is um.. long .. enjoy!

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╰┈➤ ⋆｡‧˚ʚ 🐦 ɞ˚‧｡⋆

You were alone in the house, your parents went off to the neighbours to go grilling. You decided to not go since you were doing things with them the whole day and you just felt exhausted. You went to cook yourself a quick meal, just some toast with whatever on top. You looked at the time, 10:28PM. Joost was performing currently in Amsterdam, not that you knew anything about it. He was probably going to get a few drinks with friends after it like he usually did after his last concert of the season. He has probably long forgot about you, probably replacing you with someone else by now. Ever since he became more famous, you both stopped reaching out as often. There wasn’t any hate behind it, Joost wasn’t the type to cut people off because of fame which you loved about him and you missed him dearly you just.. drifted apart?

You went back up to your room, deciding to go to sleep early tonight, opening the window for some cool air to come into the room. The covers called your name, snuggling into them and getting comfortable. You fall asleep a few minutes later, the room was dark and the wind entered your room like an unwelcome guest, goosebumps appearing on your skin.

A buzzing noise wakes you up, your phone lighting up and blinding your tired eyes. You try and get up, body still a bit weak since you woke up about 5 seconds ago. You grab your phone and your heart skips a beat, the name “duck” appearing on your phone. It was a nickname you gave to Joost years ago. You were teens, trying to make up nicknames for each other and you just took the word dutch and turned it into duck. You watch it ring for a few seconds and then sigh, cursing a bit then pick it up. “Hello?” You say, your voice raspy and very tired sounding. “Hallo?” You hear the dutch accent you oh so loved come through the phone. “Hello, hello.” You turn around and lay on your stomach, waiting for him to speak. The noises in the background were loud and clear, loud music coming through the phone. “Is dat het meisje waar je het over had?” (Is that the girl you were talking about?) “ja ja ga nu..” (yea yea, go now.)

He shifted around before he spoke again. “Sorry, what’s up?” You raise a brow, was this some kind of phone call you get from your dad once a year? “Nothing much, why are you calling me?” He chuckles, voice deep and handsome like always. “Can I not call mijn liefde?” (my love) “What are you on about Joost? Are you drunk?” “No, no.” He slurs, making you scoff. “Yeah, yeah.” He was mumbling things in dutch you couldn’t understand; “Ik wil niemand anders dan jou.. mijn lief meisje.” (I want no one else but you.. my sweet girl.) “Fucking hell Joost.. where the hell are you? Is Apson with you?” He nods, which you barely heard but at least he gave you an answer. Apson would mostly stay sober, only having a few drinks so you decided to call him. He picked up, voice cheerful like always. You told him to take Joost home since he sounded like he had enough for the night and he kindly agreed. You thank him, ending the call with him before trying to go back to sleep.

3:07AM, another phone call wakes you up. “What the fuck is wrong with him..” You ask yourself before picking up. “Joost it’s 3AM can you go to sleep?” You demand and he just smiles. Oh yeah you were on face time now, great. You looked like a zombie compared to him, he looked more energetic than you did, his hair wet and it looked like he was shirtless. Probably just got out of the shower. “I wanted to see your stunning face schatje.” He says, laying down on his side, the side of his face resting against a pillow.

You sigh, watching him like a hawk. The light coming from his side of the phone blinded you, making you groan. “What do you want? I’m exhausted from your bullshit.” You say and he pouts; “Why are you so mean, hm? Do you not miss me?” He asks, smiling, his adorable, genuine smile. “Joost stop it.” He chuckled, moving around in his room when he suddenly turned his lights off, the only light that let you see his face was from his LEDs. He started mumbling things again, his voice lulling you to sleep but you fought back the urge to sleep. “Jij bent zo schitterend..” (you’re so stunning) “Joost I’m hanging up.” “No, no.. Blijf bij me.” (stay with me) “Ik wil je Y/N.” (I want you Y/N.) “Ik krijg je niet uit mijn hoofd.” (I can’t get you out of my head.) All of these things meant nothing to you. You didn’t speak dutch, maybe a few phrases and words but you weren’t fluent. You brushed off all of those phrases, when he said the one thing he taught you during your time as close friends. “Ik hou van jou lieverd.” (I love you sweetheart.)

You face turned bright red, quickly hanging up and flipping onto your back. Your eyes were wide eyed, staring at the dark ceiling above you. You internally scream, maybe he meant it in a friendly way? But the nickname?? It was weird. He was just drunk after all, it probably didn’t even mean anything. You try to fall asleep, tossing and turning before finally succeeding.

Morning came quicker than usual, making your stomach turn and face feel hot. You didn’t even dare open your phone, deciding to pack your things and head home to Amsterdam a little earlier than expected. You booked a flight, canceling the one you were supposed to take 3 days later then this one.

The minute you got home you opened the messages. Some were from last night and some were from a few minutes ago. You tried replying but no words were coming to mind, your fingers just hovering above the cold screen.

———————————————————

Duck🦆💙

Y/N

Hello??

why did u hang up hm?

blijf bij me

please

ik krijg je niet uit mijn hoofd

sent 16 hours ago

————————— new messages —————————

Y/N

Im so sorry I woke u up yesterday

I was drunk haha

hope to see u soon, today Im performing in that club we used to go to as teens

ill look for u after

———————————————————

You contemplated whether to go or not. You wanted to see him, but another part of you didn’t. Why should you be the one running back to him? It made no sense to you, yet you went. It was like you were in a daze, getting ready, taking the train to the city he was performing in.. it all felt forced in a way. You got stopped by a few fans then made your way to the barrier. You bought a ticket last minute most people already in the club waiting for their idol to come up on stage. 15 minutes until it started, you felt disgusting. Sweaty fan girls who never heard of a shower were all around you, all you wanted to do was curl yourself into a ball and dissapear on the spot. It will be so akward talking after almost a year of barely knowing of each other’s pressence yet you still wanted to see him, hug him.. kiss him.

The concert went by fast, you and Joost making eye contact several times which made you even more anxious than you were before. You walked back stage, most of the security recognising you and letting you pass which surprised you. The halls felt endless, walking in front of his door you gently knocked almost instantly hearing footsteps. And there he was. He changed a lot. His hair was now longer, looking more mature but he was still there. Your Joost. “Weren’t you supposed to be the one looking for me?” He rubbed his neck, chuckling awkwardly before pulling you into the room. It looked like he was trying to find the right words to start which made you count down the dreadful seconds going by.

“Well, what I said yesterday was true. I don’t remember all of it but from the messages I said it was pretty obvious. I really do love you and I hate that you aren’t by my side. I hate that I can’t wake up with you in my arms. I miss you. I miss your smile, your energy, I miss hearing your thoughts, I miss everything about you. Liefje please I need you I can’t live without you.” He looked at you with those beautiful ocean blue eyes, looking desperate but it was obvious he truly meant every single word. You smile softly, cupping his cheeks. “I love you too. You have no idea how much I’ve been missing you. It was like a part of my heart was taken away from me.” He kissed your forehead, smiling down at you. “I promise to never leave you. Never.” “Promise.”

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╰┈➤ ⋆｡‧˚ʚ 🐦 ɞ˚‧｡⋆

#joost klein fanfiction #joost klein x you #joost klein x reader #joostice for joost #joost x reader #justice for joost #joost klein #free joost #stand with joost #joost klein requests #joost klein x y/n

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slu7formen · 4 months

Note

Girl first of all I want to say that I'm OBSESSED with your writing I love it.

Second of all I would like to make a request about Luke so hear me out.

Luke and reader were in a relationship before he betrayed camp and they were head over heals for each other and then he stole the bolt and when Percy discovers he's the thief the reader is there feeling betrayed and specially heartbroken even though Luke ask her to go with him but she doesn't accept it because she's so loyal to camp and her friends.

Time passed and even if she wants to hate Luke she loves him more than anything. And Luke loves her too so instead of asking Annabeth to escape with him he asks reader and she accepts.

I want to see everything in here fluff, angst, everything you think about.

I hope you like this request and make it real for me because I've been having this idea for over a week.

Okay but I feel so bad ‘cause I totally forgot I had this story FULLY WRITTEN and READY to be published (‘cause I LOVED it), I’m so sorry angel, made you wait a lot more than just a week 🥺, but thanks for reading my stories <3

MDNI. luke castellan x fem!reader

warnings: luke´s a traitor, betrayal, use of yn, swearing, kinda angst (?, KISSING, lil book spoiler

₊˚⊹♡

The crackle and pop of the bonfire filled the air, a comforting contrast to the vibrant bursts of color exploding overhead. The annual fireworks display was in full swing, casting shadows on the faces of your friends huddled around the warm flames. It was a picture of peace, a moment of respite amidst the constant threat of monsters demigod drama.

You stole a glance at the empty space beside you. Luke, your boyfriend, had told you he'd just be back in a minute. A few minutes had turned into an eternity, but you chalked it up to his usual impulsiveness. He'd be back any minute, with his signature smile and an arm wrapped around you.

You knew it.

From the moment you met, you and Luke had been inseparable. You were his confidante, his anchor in the chaos of being a demigod and his messy life. He was your rock, always there to make you laugh, to understand the weight of your heritage in a way no one else could.

The warmth of the fire danced on your skin, but a shiver snaked down your spine. Something felt off. The chatter of your friends seemed muted, replaced by a dull ache in your chest. You couldn’t deny the way you noticed how Luke has been acting lately. So weird and distant towards you the last couple days. You loved him, fiercely and unconditionally. You'd been there for him through thick and thin, especially after his quest left a jagged scar across his cheek and a hollowness in his eyes.

But then he suddenly just, snapped.

A memory surfaced in you , sharp and unwelcome. It had been months ago, a conversation in the darkness of his cabin in a particular cold night. Luke, his eyes filled with a desperate fervor, had confessed his anger towards the gods, his belief that they were cruel and neglectful parents. He'd spoken of tricking the Olympians, joining forces with the Titans to fight for a better life for all demigods.

The anger in his voice, the glint of rebellion in his eyes, had scared you. The scar on his face, a reminder of his failed quest, seemed to burn brighter that night.

You understood his anger. The gods were far from perfect, their neglect and cruelty evident in countless demigod lives. He'd begged you to join him, his voice filled with a desperate hope. But you'd refused, your loyalty to Camp Half-Blood and your friends unwavering. You had spent hours talking him through it as you held his hand, reminding him of all the good the gods had done, no matter how flawed they might be. He'd looked lost at the time, seeking comfort in your touch. You'd thought you'd reached him, extinguished that spark of rebellion.

You really believed that conversation was long forgotten. But there was a reason why you remembered it.

Some movement at the edge of the woods caught your eye. But it wasn't the boy you were expecting. Percy, his face pale and etched with worry, practically stumbled into the fireplace, his chest heaving and his grip tight on Riptide.

A pang of concern shot through you. "Percy?" you called out, concern lacing your voice. You pushed yourself off the ground, walking towards him. "What happened? Where's Luke?"

Percy hesitated, his eyes filled with a storm of emotions. Shit, should he tell you? His silence was a hammer blow to your gut. You knew, with a chilling certainty, that something was terribly wrong.

"What?" you choked out, the question barely a whisper, expecting some kind of answer from the blonde boy, but nothing came from his trembling lips. The air felt dense, with a truth you desperately wanted to deny. You saw Luke getting into the woods with Percy, you saw it. And now, he was nowhere to be seen.

Then, it clicked. A cold, horrifying truth began to dawn on you.

He lied.

Without a word, you pushed Percy aside and started running, towards the woods. Your heart hammered against your ribs, like a trapped bird desperate to escape. You plunged into the darkness of the forest, the path you'd walked countless times with Luke now leading you into the unknown.

"Luke!" you screamed, your voice raw with anger and despair. You wove through the trees, the undergrowth tearing at your camp shirt, but you didn't care. You had to find him, to confront him, to understand why he'd chosen this path, if he chose it, why he'd lied to you.

But with each passing minute, hope crashed over you. The forest grew denser, the silence broken only by the rustle of leaves and the frantic beat of your own heart. There was no sign of Luke, no echo of his footsteps, no smell, no sense of his presence, only the chilling truth hanging heavy in the air.

He was gone.

He had left.

You sank to your knees, the weight of betrayal crushing you as the first tears you ever cried for Luke Castellan, started to fall. The man you loved, the person you'd trusted with your life, had chosen darkness over everything you held dear. He had chosen Kronos over you.

Grief, a cold and relentless serpent, coiled around your heart. And that feeling never seemed to leave.

The year that followed was a blur of sadness and a desperate attempt at normalcy. The silence from Luke was deafening. Not a single Iris-message, not a single sign of the one who once, was your boyfriend.

You knew you wouldn´t be able to return to Camp, at least not for now. Every corner held a ghost of Luke's smile, every sword clang a reminder of his battles and his betrayal. Your friends, the true ones, bless their hearts, tried everything to cheer you up from a distance, but their efforts felt like trying to pick up the pieces of a broken glass in the sea.

You opted to stay home that summer. But even there, away from the prying eyes and hushed whispers, escape from Luke's betrayal seemed impossible. Messages and news found you no matter where you hid. News of Luke leading a rogue army aboard a stolen cruise ship, rumors of him serving as Kronos's right hand while the Titan slumbered – it all reached your ears.

The nights were the worst. The darkness mirrored the hollowness within you. Tears would stain your pillow as you relived the events leading up to his betrayal. You once seemed to dream about seeing him again, and now you only screamed when you saw his face in your nightmares.

The memory of his touch, the warmth of his smile, the nights you spent loving each other with the sheets tangling in your legs, all felt like cruel illusions now. Yet, a part of you, a stubborn, illogical part, still clung to the love you once shared.

And Gods, did you try to keep yourself as busy as possible. You threw yourself into your studies and little courses here and there, seeking solace in facts and logic. You even began working, a boring but well payed summer job. Yet, the pain lingered, a dull ache that refused to subside.

The more you tried to banish these visions, the more vivid they became. You missed him like a starving man craved a feast, a yearning that gnawed at your insides and threatened to consume you. Frustration gnawed at you. How could you still love someone who'd betrayed you so utterly? How could your heart still ache for a man who chose war over you? The questions echoed endlessly within you, a relentless chorus fueling your self-conscious.

How could you be so weak?

These consuming questions were your companions for a whole year. But as the second summer after Luke's betrayal rolled around, a shift occurred within you. The raw, agonizing pain began to dull, replaced by a quiet resolve.

Finally, you decided it was time to take back control again. Camp Half-Blood called, a familiar haven among the storm. You returned a changed person. The vibrant smile that once adorned your face was a ghost, replaced by a guarded expression that spoke about the pain you harbored in silence. The camp's familiar energy felt hollow, a constant reminder of the happiness you'd lost.

Training became your sole solace. You'd disappear into the arena for hours, your celestial bronze sword a blur as you cleaved through training dummies, each swing fueled by a potent cocktail of grief and anger.

Exhaustion became your closest companion too. You pushed yourself to the limits of your endurance, hoping to find oblivion at the bottom of an empty fuel tank. But sleep, when it finally came, offered no escape. You'd dream of him, leading his army of rogue demigods, his eyes filled with a fanatical zeal that chilled you to the bone. And in those dreams, you'd see yourself, standing beside him, not out of loyalty to his cause, but out of a desperate yearning for the boy you once loved, still love.

In the quiet moments, when your friends weren't around, the dam would break. You'd collapse onto your cool and empty bed, tears streaming down your face, a raw, primal sob escaping your lips. The memory of Luke was no joy anymore, it haunted you like a specter.

You hated yourself for the traitorous flicker in your heart, the desperate, illogical yearning for him. It wasn't the war that tempted you; it was him.

You hated how much you missed him.

The scent of rain clung to the humid night air and to you like a second skin as you zipped up your duffel bag. Another summer at Camp Half-Blood loomed, promising a bittersweet mix of nostalgia and pain, but more training. The worst was yet to come, so you needed to be ready.

New York City, with its cacophony of car horns and the anonymity of millions, had become your refuge these past few months. In Manhattan, the memories of Luke seemed to hold less power for some weird reason, their edges dulling with the passage of time. You'd spent the past months in this tiny apartment, the silence deafening compared to the constant hum of life at camp.

Just then, a sharp rap on the door shattered the silence of your apartment. It was past midnight, an unusual time for visitors.

Adrenaline surged through you. Months of living fully alone had honed your senses. You'd become acutely aware of the city's underbelly – the flickering shadows that could hide monsters thanks to the ever-present mist. You'd seen them stalking the streets, stalking you, their true forms hidden to them mortals, an unsettling feeling crawling up your spine whenever their paths crossed yours. They never attacked, but their chilling presence followed you like a phantom.

Grabbing your necklace, you asked, "Yes?"

Silence. You weren't taking any chances. Pulling down at the pendant once, the necklace morphed into your celestial bronze dagger.

You took a step, two. Could it really be a monster? Could it really be some creature trying to get to you, by knocking on the door? With a shaky breath, you cracked the door open just enough to peek through the gap, hiding the dagger behind your back.

The sight that greeted you stole the air from your lungs.

Standing on your doorstep, bathed in the harsh glow of the hallway light, was Luke. His dark hair was windswept, his face etched with a gauntness that hadn't been there before, but his eyes – those were the same eyes that had haunted your dreams for months. They held a desperate plea, a flicker of the boy you once loved struggling to break through the hardened shell of the man he'd become.

“Luke?”

The silence stretched between you, thick with unspoken words and a tangled web of emotions. Time seemed to warp in that hallway, a single moment stretched into an eternity. Luke looked different, yes. The carefree boy you knew had been replaced by a man hardened by experience, his features etched with lines that spoke of battles fought and burdens carried. But his eyes, those brown eyes that had once held a mischievous twinkle, now held a deeper sadness that mirrored your own.

"Hi" Luke finally said, his voice raspy.

You stood speechless, the dagger still clutched tightly in your hand. Years of longing warred with the fresh wounds of betrayal. You wanted to scream at him, to unleash the torrent of hurt and anger that suddenly washed over you. But something held you back, a flicker of curiosity, maybe.

"Um, can I come in?" he continued, his posture pleading despite his attempt at nonchalance.

Jesus. Was that all he had to say? After everything, after what he did, all he could muster was a request to enter your apartment? A tide of anger threatened to drown you. Did he not understand the gravity of what he'd done? Did he not realize the pain he'd caused? But you forced your thoughts down. You weren't a child anymore, throwing tantrums wouldn't solve anything.

"Are you armed?" you asked, your voice flat, devoid of any warmth.

Luke flinched at your question, a flicker of pain crossing his features. "You think I wanna hurt you?" he countered, his tone defensive.

"Last time I saw you," you spat back, your voice laced with bitterness, "was three years ago, and I know your little monsters are keeping an eye on me. The first thing I'm supposed to think about is whether you want to hurt me or not."

He sighed, a long, weary exhale. Unzipping his jacket, he turned slowly, patting down his pockets before turning back to you. His eyes, once alive with mischief and love, were now filled with a desperate sincerity. "See? No weapons. Just me."

You studied him, a battle raging within you. One part of you wanted to slam the door, to let him know that he wasn't welcome. Yet, another part, a smaller, more vulnerable part, couldn't help but cling to the flicker of hope that flickered amongst the ashes of your love.

Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, you stepped aside, allowing a sliver of space for him to enter. "Fine" you said, your voice devoid of warmth. "But you better have a good reason to come here"

Luke hesitated for a beat before stepping inside. He closed the door softly behind him, the sound echoing through the tense silence. He stood there awkwardly with his hands in his pockets, his eyes scanning the room, landing finally on the packed bags besides the tv.

"You're heading back to camp?" he asked.

You flipped the dagger in your hand, and the celestial bronze morphed back into the golden necklace. "What do you want?" you repeated, your voice still sharp, a shield against the emotions swirling within you.

Luke stood awkwardly in the doorway, the once carefree boy replaced by a man burdened by the weight of his choices. His leather jacket seemed to hang heavy on his broad shoulders.

"I…" he started, then stopped, seemingly unsure how to proceed. He cleared his throat, the sound scratchy and unfamiliar. "You look different" he finally managed, the words tumbling out awkwardly.

You scoffed, a humorless sound that surprised even you.

"Look, yn" he finally managed, his voice barely above a whisper, "I wanna talk, okay? I know what I did was wrong. I know I hurt you."

You rolled your eyes, crossing your arms over your chest. "You could say that again."

His fingers twitched at your bitterness, but pressed on. "I came here because..." He hesitated again, seemingly wrestling with an inner turmoil. "Because I-"

Frustration bubbled up within you. This cryptic approach, this lack of honesty, it was infuriating. "Because you what, Luke?" you demanded, your voice laced with a sharp edge. "Because you decided to grace me with your presence after leading a rebellion against the gods? Or maybe because you just wanted to see if I'm still waiting for you?"

You watched his face harden, the vulnerability replaced by a familiar defiance.

"Don't twist this" he snapped, his voice firm. "I came here because..." He took a deep breath, his eyes locking with yours. "Because I miss you, yn. I miss us."

The air crackled with a tension so thick you could almost taste it.

You took a slow step towards him, then another. He took notes of yourself as you did. The way you had grown internally was so intense that he could sense it everywhere. He might have betrayed you, but that only helped you get on your feet stronger, grow stronger. Become the warrior he always knew you were.

Then, in a move as instinctive as it was fierce, your hand lashed out. The slap connected with a stinging crack, the sound echoing through the apartment like a thunderclap. Luke's head snapped to the side, a crimson handprint blooming on his cheek. Shame flickered in his eyes as he scoffed, quickly replaced by a dull acceptance.

He deserved it, that much was clear.

"How dare you?” you spat, your voice shaking with barely controlled fury, "How fucking dare you come back here after what you've done? After leading a rebellion against the gods, after putting everyone we care about at risk? After betraying me?"

Luke took a shaky breath, running a hand over the burning mark on his face. "I'm sorry” he said, his voice low and ragged. "I'm so sorry. I know I hurt you, and I know a simple apology won't erase the pain or fix things. But you have to believe me, I never meant for things to get this bad"

He stepped towards you, his hands outstretched in a placating gesture, but you flinched back, the space between you a tangible barrier. "Don't touch me" you warned, your voice laced with ice.

He lowered his hands, his shoulders slumping in defeat.

“I know you hate me for what I´ve done. For joining Kronos, I-“

"You think this is all about Kronos?" you cut him off, your voice shaking with barely contained fury. "You think the reason my heart has been broken these past years is because you joined a fucking Titan?"

Luke remained silent, the weight of your words pressing down on him like a collapsing mountain. He knew better.

"This is about what you did to me, Luke" you choked out, tears welling in your eyes. "I was with you, all the time. I was your girlfriend! And you betrayed me. You left me alone” your voice broke so hard that you had to take a second to swallow the big gulp that was forming in your throat. “Everyone at camp looked at me after what you did," you choked out. "They either felt sorry for me, or they insulted me, saying that I was still loyal to you, that I was a traitor."

You closed your eyes for a moment, the pain etched on your face a stark reminder of the devastation he'd wrought. "You were the most important person in my life" you cried, your voice raw and vulnerable. "But you? You let Kronos fill your head with empty promises, and just like that, you forgot about us."

The truth felt like a bitter pill to swallow. He opened his mouth to speak.

"I asked you to come with me" he finally whispered, his voice thick with regret. "I gave you the chance to leave with me."

"And even after I said no," you countered, your voice trembling like the finger that was now pointing at his chest, "you still left. You threw me away like shit. And do you know what the worst part is?" Tears streamed down your face, tracing a path through the dust of old heartache. "That as much as I try, I can't seem to hate you."

A sob escaped your lips, shattering the fragile dam you'd built around your emotions. "I still love you, Luke" you confessed. "Even though it's a love that fills me with pain, it's still there. I hate myself because I dream about you, about the way things used to be. But when I don't, I feel like a piece of me is missing."

You looked up at him, your eyes brimming with tears and a raw vulnerability that left Luke speechless.

What had he done?

"I hate myself because I can't help but pray for your safety, even though you never seemed to care about mine. I hate myself because even after everything, I still love you, Luke."

Your heart felt like a shattered kaleidoscope, a million shards of love, anger, and pain reflecting back at you in a distorted reality. You walked and sank onto the couch, burying your face in your hands as sobs racked your body.

Luke, his heart heavy with a remorse sharper than any weapon, watched you crumble. The carefree girl he fell in love with was gone, replaced by a woman etched with the scars of his own actions. Hesitantly, he reached out, placing a hand on your back as he sat down next to you, a gesture of comfort that felt more like a branding iron on his guilt.

"yn” he whispered, his voice thick with emotion, "I still love you too."

You didn't respond, the sobs coming in ragged gasps as your body struggled to contain the storm within.

"I know I left you" he continued, his voice cracking slightly. "And you didn't deserve it. But… I was so lost, so angry. Kronos promised me power, a solution to all the problems I saw. He convinced me that Olympus was corrupt, that the gods didn't care about half-bloods like us. And when you said no, he-, he told me to leave you behind, said that it would be easier for everyone…"

His voice trailed off. Easier for who? Easier for him, perhaps, to sever the ties that bound him, to plunge headfirst into a rebellion fueled by manipulated ideals.

"But it wasn't" he choked out, a tear escaping his eye, carving a glistening path down his cheek. "Every day, every step I took… it was a constant reminder of what I'd lost. The guilt was eating me alive, yn, you have to believe me”. His hands desperately reached for yours, trying to get your fingers to intertwine by placing his over yours.

Tears welled up in his own eyes. "I regret everything. I mean it. I don't want to do this anymore."

You finally lifted your head, your eyes red-rimmed and brimming with unshed tears. Luke looked different to you now, the bravado and arrogance gone, replaced by a vulnerability that mirrored your own.

"Don't want to do what?" you asked, your voice hoarse.

"This” he gestured vaguely to himself, but you didn’t quite catch it. "Following Kronos. Helping him rise to power. It's wrong. I can see that now."

“Little late to that, isn’t it?” you blurted out.

He took a deep breath, his expression resolute. "yn, there's a reason I came to you. A reason I risked Kronos' trust in me." He paused, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. "Kronos wants me to become his host."

And the world seemed to suddenly stop. You stared at him, the weight of his words sinking in. Your mind raced, trying to process what he had just said. Luke, your Luke, becoming a vessel for the monstrous Titan?

"What?" you croaked, fear coating your voice like frost. Your eyes darted around, searching for a way out, a solution, anything. But Luke wouldn't meet your gaze, his jaw clenched tight, a storm of emotions brewing beneath the surface. "No. No, he can't. It's not possible."

The thought of him, Luke, being consumed by Kronos, twisted your insides into knots.

Luke, however, seemed to gather his resolve. "Yes, it is" he said, his voice low and strained. "There are things you don't know, yn. Things I've done."

A cold dread gripped your stomach, a physical manifestation of the terror that clawed at your insides. Your mind raced, desperate for answers. "Then tell me" you only managed to say. "Luke, what have you done?"

He hesitated, looking around as if afraid someone might be listening. "There's no time now" he finally said, his voice tight with urgency. "But I promise I will explain everything. That's not why I'm here."

Taking a deep breath, he dared to reach out, his hand gently grasping yours, finally. The warmth of his touch sent a jolt through you, a stark contrast to the chilling fear that gripped you.

He called your name, his voice softening. "Come with me" he said.

You only feel capable of frowning your brows in confusion. "Go where?" you asked, your voice wary.

"Anywhere" he said, like a plea. "Let's run away, together. It can be just you and me again"

He leaned closer, the air around him crackling with a tension that mirrored the storm within you. As his forehead rested against yours, a jolt of electricity shot through you. It was a familiar warmth, a spark that had ignited countless stolen kisses and whispered secrets back when your world wasn't teetering on the brink of war. His other hand cupped your cheek, the touch a stark contrast to the turmoil raging inside you. His hand, usually warm and comforting, felt cool against your burning skin, a physical reminder of the distance that had grown between you. Yet, despite the chill, a wave of longing washed over you, a yearning for the simple comfort of his touch.

But reason tugged at you, a voice of caution in the midst of the storm. "But Luke," you stammered, pulling away slightly, "If you escape, Kronos will come for you. He'll come for us, and-,"

"I don't care" he interrupted, his voice resolute, yet laced with a tremor that betrayed his bravado. It was as if he was on the precipice, teetering between defiance and the vulnerability of a man on the verge of breaking. "I'll fight everything that comes for us. And if the war happens... I'll fight. I'll fight for everyone, I’ll fight for you. I'm not losing you again, yn."

His words resonated deep within you, a desperate echo of the love you still harbored for him, a love you thought you'd buried beneath layers of anger and sadness. You saw the fear in his eyes, a fear that you sadly shared, but beneath it, a flicker of something else – a raw, desperate hope. And as you looked at him, a wave of relief washed over you.

The relief of knowing he wasn't entirely lost, that a part of the Luke you loved still existed.

"I love you" he confessed again, his voice trembling.

Looking into his eyes, a storm of emotions swirling within them, the truth resonated with you. "I love you too" you whispered, the words tumbling from your lips like a long-awaited confession.

The world did indeed, stop. The rain, a relentless symphony against the window pane, faded into a distant murmur. The thunders became a muffled echo. In that moment, the only reality was the space between you and Luke, charged with the unspoken electricity of your confessions.

He leaned in further, a hesitant question in his eyes. A flicker of fear danced in their depths, a scared boy seeking forgiveness beneath the warrior's facade. You watched him, a bittersweet ache blooming in your chest.

With a sigh that trembled on your lips, you closed the distance. Your lips met in a hesitant touch, a tentative exploration of a forgotten familiarity. Three years of longing, of unspoken words and simmering emotions, poured into that kiss. It was sweeter than you'd dared to imagine, a warmth that spread from your lips and drizzled down your chest.

Unlike the passionate encounters of your past, this felt different; like kissing him for the first time. Luke's lips moved against yours with a reverence that sent shivers down your spine. He held back, his desperate desire tempered with a respect that surprised you. You knew him.

But then, you yielded. Your lips parted, a silent invitation, and his tongue met yours in a dance as old as time. A full, heavy and angry thunderclap erupted outside, a jarring contrast to the intimacy unfolding on the couch. But you paid it no mind, lost in the whirlpool of rediscovered affection.

Your arms encircled his neck, a desperate hold. He, in turn, cupped your waist, his touch lingering on the curve of your hip as he gently lowered you onto the soft cushion. His body hovered above yours. His lips, however, remained glued to yours, a relentless exploration that spoke of a love both fierce and fragile.

The kiss deepened, a slow burn that threatened to consume you both. You felt the familiar rhythm of his heart against yours, a counterpoint to the frantic beat of your own. It was a melody of second chances, of unspoken apologies and nascent hope.

His hand trailed down your back, teasingly brushing under your shirt, sending shivers dancing across your skin. You arched into his touch, a wordless plea for more. But just then, he pulled away, his breath ragged, his eyes a storm of conflicting emotions.

His voice, a husky murmur against your skin, sent shivers down your spine. "I missed this so much," he whispered, his lips trailing down the delicate column of your neck and the dip of your collarbone. His warm breath mingled with your own, a heady mix of emotions swirling around you.

Your fingers tangled in his hair, the familiar texture a stark reminder of the past you both desperately clung to. He reached for your pulse, slowly sucking in before letting it pop.

"I wanted to feel you every night" he confessed. "Every night, I dreamt of you." His words were a stark contrast to the cold, distant Luke you saw in your dreams, the only vivid memory you’ve had of him the past years.

"Luke" you whispered, your voice barely audible as you tried to speak.

He didn't stop. His hand drifted down your torso, his fingers brushing against the exposed skin of your lower tummy. Every touch felt like a brand, a searing reminder of what you had lost and the uncertainty that lay ahead.

"It was a mistake" he said, his voice thick with regret. "A big, fucking mistake. Leaving you, betraying you-, it was the biggest mistake of my life. My life doesn't make any sense without you."

With a strangled sound, Luke deepened the kiss, his lips moving against yours with a desperation that mirrored your own. You clung to him, a drowning sailor grasping at a lifeline. The scent of leather that clung to him was intoxicating, a familiar anchor in this storm of emotions.

"Luke" you managed to gasp between kisses, a flicker of reason breaking through the haze of desire. You needed more than just words, needed a binding promise, something concrete to hold onto if you were to take this leap of faith.

He stared at you, his eyes a storm of emotions – desire, confusion, and a flicker of something that might have been annoyance. But before he could respond, you pressed on.

"Swear on it, Luke" you whispered, your voice trembling slightly. "Swear on the River Styx” you repeat. Luke’s eyes dart back and forth, from your lips, to your eyes, to filling up with confusion. “I’m not-,” you cut yourself off as you feel your eyes filling with tears again. You bit your tongue before speaking, “I’m not letting you hurt me like this again"

You knew it was selfish, a desperate attempt to safeguard your heart. But Luke was here, finally, after all this time. You craved the warmth of his touch, the comfort of his presence. The thought of letting him go again, of enduring another betrayal, was unbearable. Yet, a part of you, still scarred from the past, craved a guarantee, an oath sworn on the most powerful river in the Underworld. It was dangerous, yes, but did you care?

Did he care?

Luke's expression hardened. The River Styx, held a weight that couldn't be ignored. The river he already bathed himself in. It was a binding vow, a promise etched in the very fabric of existence.

He looked at you, his eyes searching yours for a flicker of doubt, a hint of manipulation. But all he saw was the vulnerability, the fear – a vulnerability born from the scars he himself had inflicted.

"I swear on the River Styx" he said, his voice low and solemn, each word heavy with the weight of the oath. "I swear I won’t ever leave you. I swear I love you. I swear I'll fight for you, for us, with every breath in my lungs."

#luke castellan x reader #luke castellan #luke castellan smut #pjo series #pjo #pjo smut #luke castellan x you #luke x reader #luke castellan one shot #luke castellan fic #luke castellan imagine #pjo x you #luke castellan x female reader #luke castellan x fem!reader #luke castellan x y/n #luke castellan imagines #luke castellan fanfic #pjo luke #luke percy jackson

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headspace-hotel · 11 months

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There's a plentiful supply of nature and ecology writers that criticize "Anthropocentrism" and tell readers that we shouldn't consider ourselves more important than other life forms, and then they write things that are like "We evolved to live in Nature in a Natural environment...Long ago humans lived as hunter-gatherers instead of farming and domesticating animals...But when civilization was created, man unnaturally subjugated and modified plants and animals...Bringing them under human control for his own benefit...Man replaces natural ecosystems with artificially created "post-natural" environments...Now humans live in an unnatural environment that is separated from Nature...and i'm like buddy. do you even hear yourself

Since I have access to a bigger library now, I've explored "deep ecology" and "green anarchism" and "Biocentrism" a bit more and what i've seen is still kinda silly. The writers have very thoughtful theory and philosophy of diverse subjects relating to morality, society, power, and liberation, but...they just don't know very much about Nature.

I mean several things by that: first, they're not clear on the boring, practical details of things like food systems and the way construction alters ecosystems, second, they don't try to clearly define what "nature" is, and third, they act like "nature" has a clear definition anyway.

Now nature is pretty much undefinable anyway, a couple possible definitions are "all things that exist, have existed, or are possible in the universe" and "the thing that a forest has that a parking lot doesn't." You can say "biodiversity," but every space has biodiversity, and it's not clear how much biodiversity a space is "supposed" to have, we're just going on vibes. And the vibes are right, in a way; I visited an old-growth forest and it was DIFFERENT than any place i'd ever been in a way that is hard to describe. A flourishing, biodiverse ecosystem is different than a parking lot, a lawn, a monoculture field of corn. They say it's good for your health to be "in nature." What does that mean? At what point does a place become "nature?" How many trees does it have to have?

Something that is so painful to me is when people write "Human activities" as a cause of biodiversity loss. This is an act of cowardice. WHICH human activities? Name them.

A lot of nature and ecology writings treat humans like they have an anti-biodiversity force field that emanates from them. They write like lands on Earth are each contested between two inversely proportional forces, "Nature" and "Humans."

Without any more information, this is ethereal bullshit on par with crystals having energies. I am totally perplexed at the lack of curiosity about the specific causes and details of "human impacts." The division of habitats by so many roads and relentless speeding of cars with no way for wildlife to cross...the dumping of massive amounts of poison into soils and water...the wounding and disturbance of topsoil...these are the "human activities," but we can imagine a world without such destruction, and we can create that world.

Too many essays and papers talking about Nature non-specifically, an Idea of Nature, a Concept that everyone just intuitively knows. Nature is...you know...wildness! and trees! and...well, you know, NATURE!

And we do know! When we step out into the parking lot surrounded by low, squarish buildings and blaring signs and the stink of car exhaust, we know that something is very wrong with this place! Even we find these horrible un-places harsh and unwelcoming.

But it is very hard to imagine something different, because the other type of place, the place that is beautiful and soothes the spirit and is full of life, is by definition the place where humans only go to visit, the complete opposite and inverse of a place where humans work and live! Wherever humans live, shop, eat, fulfill their daily needs, that place is Not Nature.

The huge mistake, is that we believe that it is necessary to have places that are Not Nature. We believe that for humans to exist, areas must be set aside where the very concept of Nature is utterly obliterated.

From this imaginary and dismal point of view, we have to carefully confine our own lives to places that are utterly poisoned, sterilized, made into a hostile wasteland, and leave all the rest of the living biosphere to itself in pristine preserves.

And in this imaginary and dismal point of view, the one that divides Earth into Nature and Humans, it is okay to poison and to sterilize and to destroy, because humans must live SOMEWHERE, therefore Nature must be utterly excluded from at least SOME of Earth.

BUT...WHAT IF EVERYWHERE IS NATURE? What if the dandelions in the cracks of the pavement, the lichens growing on the park bench, the wildflowers on the side of the road, the sparrows in the parking lot—what if they are all Nature just as much as anything else? What if they too are sacred? What if it is our responsibility to see the connectedness of all life and to care for all ecosystems, however broken and hurt they may be?

What if Nature is not distant and abstract, untouched in some pristine place, but always reaching out, digging into the crumbled concrete and gravel and compacted ground, clawing to return to us and bring us back home?

It does not take away from the value of the old-growth forest or the unplowed prairie if we open our eyes and see even the scraggliest patch of overgrown weeds for the powerful manifestation of Nature it truly is.

Nature is not a place or a thing. Nature is the Movement, the Endless Happening, constantly alive throughout all life, the way of all things being family, the way of all things taking care of each other, the way of all life being constantly transformed through one another. You breathe the breath of the trees of your home, you drink the water of the streams of your home, you eat the sunlight that falls on your home, grown in the soil where all things go to be transformed through death into a new form of life, fed by the mycorrhizal network, pollinated by the bees, wasps, flies, and moths, nourished by the bone, blood and manure of beasts, and ultimately the fertile river valleys where agriculture first began, were replenished by the rich silt that washed down the river, which came from the forests in the mountains that shed their leaves to make a feast for a million decomposing critters, which is how the rich soil is made.

In this way they all take care of you, and in return you are asked to Live—to take care of them in return, to live as part of the great family of everything alive, to live, to live

What are human activities...? Deforestation? Mining? Spraying pesticides? Building housing developments? But is that all? Are we inherently a "bad" and "destructive" species, or is our ability to acquire and pass down knowledge, use tools and novel behaviors, alter our surroundings, shape ecosystems, adapt our lifestyles almost infinitely, and persist in almost any environment, simply incredibly powerful for good or for evil?

First of all, what better way to demonstrate a contrast to anthropocentrism...than to compare the impact of humans alone to the impact of an ENTIRE KINGDOM OF LIFE, the fungi????? Of course all of Fungi are more important than one single species??? Wtf?!?!?

But also, we should not convince ourselves of our own insignificance and worthlessness to the biosphere, because in the same way that individual self-loathing can be a way to avoid the hard work of loving oneself and advocating for the love one deserves, collective self-loathing as a species is a way of avoiding the responsibility we have to other life forms.

How can this author not think of a single role Humans play in the ecosystem?? What species plants trees, saves seeds, documents rare plants, rescues injured animals and heals them, raises orphaned chicks, manages controlled burns, digs ponds, thoughtfully harvests in anticipation of future seasons, mercifully culls in understanding of suffering that cannot be fixed? What species writes a new chapter in the genome of the American Chestnut so it can be saved from extinction? What species mends the broken kakapo egg with sticky tape? What species addresses their own habitat with that fondest name of Home?

#nature #we are a keystone species #you are a caretaker #humans

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mysunshinetemptress · 4 months

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2014

Leah Williamson x reader

Warnings: Coming out,your first experience of jealousy

You can't pinpoint the moment you fell in love with Leah, you conclude that the feelings for your best friend's older sister have always been there just taking shape in different ways but now at the age of thirteen, you know you like Leah the same way Melia likes Chris because your heart beats faster every time you see her and your stomach feels like it drops and Ellie said that's how she feels about Tristan.

You don't understand the importance of coming out to your family it happens one night at the dinner table as your older sisters talk about who they're going to marry you speak up from the end of the table "I'm going to marry Leah."

The clinking of forks against plates ceased. A stunned silence followed, thick enough to cut with a butter knife. You hadn't meant to blurt it out, but the conversation about future spouses, fueled by your two giggling older sisters, had gotten the better of you. Your cheeks burned hotter than the mashed potatoes swimming in gravy before you.

Melia was the first to recover. A mischievous glint appeared in her eyes. "Marry Leah, huh? How does Jacob feel about that!"

You stammered, "It's not like that! I just... I like Leah, the way you likes Chris and Ellie likes that Tristan boy." You blurted out Ellie's secret too, earning a glare from your other sister, but it didn't matter. The words were out.

The silence returned, this time a more thoughtful one. You stole a glance at your mum, who seemed to be studying you. You couldn't decipher the emotions swirling in her green eyes. your sisters, on the other hand, looked positively intrigued. Finally, your father cleared his throat, his voice kind.

"Honey, what do you mean by 'like Leah'?"

You took a deep breath. This was it. The moment you'd never prepared for. "It's... it's the same feeling you get when you really like someone. You get butterflies, your stomach does flips, and you just... want to be around them all the time." You blurted it all out, hoping they'd understand.

Your mother reached across the table and squeezed your hand. "And who makes you feel that way, sweetheart?"

You met her gaze, a mixture of fear and determination in your own eyes. "Leah."

The surprise lingered, but it was laced with a newfound understanding. Your father looked at your sisters, who finally met your gaze. A hint of a smile played on their lips.

"Well," your father said, his voice booming but gentle, "that's certainly something new. Leah, what do you say?"

All eyes are on you. The weight of the moment pressed down on you, but there was a flicker of hope in your chest. You'd confessed, and that was a victory in itself.

Your Mum took a deep breath. "Honestly? I had no idea you felt that way, Y/n," she admitted, her voice soft."Thirteen is a bit young to be talking about marriage, wouldn't you say?"

The night continues like normal and as the days, turn into weeks your sisters begin to ask about different girls you might have a crush on, yet your answer never changes "Leah."

In the same year, you discover what love is and how Leah was the cause of it you also discover what heartbreak is and how Leah can also cause it.

You are kicking about the Williamson's back garden when you turn at the sound of Leah's laughter in the kitchen but your eyes catch her body pressed up against the counter a brunette boy leaning into her telling her things you can't hear but it must be funny with how loud she's laughing.

A jolt of jealousy shot through you like a lightning bolt. Laughter, the sound you associated with good times with Leah, now scratched at your heart. You couldn't hear what the brunette was saying, but the intimacy of their pose spoke volumes, that was how close Melia stood to Chris, Melia and Chris were dating now.

This was heartbreak, a new and unwelcome feeling. The butterflies in your stomach did a nosedive, replaced by a leaden weight. You wanted to turn and run, to hide in the familiar comfort of your room, but your feet felt glued to the spot.

Leah finally pulled away, a playful smile on her face as she brushed a stray strand of hair from her eyes. The brunette reached out, tucking it behind her ear, a gesture that felt far too intimate for your liking.

Suddenly, you felt a hand on your shoulder. It was Jacob, his gaze fixed on the scene unfolding in the kitchen window. An unknown look passed between you, Jacob didn't know about your feelings for his older sister, he didn't need to when you didn't understand your own feelings towards the older girl, but there was a silent understanding of the unfamiliar pain in your chest.

"Who's that?" you managed to croak, your voice barely above a whisper.

Jacob shook his head. "Never seen him before. New neighbor maybe?"

You watched, a silent observer to your own life, as Leah and the boy continued talking. He leaned in again, this time whispering something in her ear that made her cheeks flush red. Her laugh echoed through the kitchen once more, but this time it sounded foreign to your ears.

Anger bubbled alongside the heartbreak. You didn't have the right to be mad, not really. You hadn't confessed your feelings, you wouldn't, out of fear that Leah would find it weird and Leah hadn't done anything wrong. But the possessiveness that comes with a budding crush reared its ugly head.

Just then, Leah turned towards the window, her eyes locking with yours. A flicker of surprise crossed her face before a warm smile spread across it. You couldn't decipher what it meant, but it was enough to break the spell that held you captive.

Taking a deep breath, you squared your shoulders. You might be heartbroken, but you wouldn't let it show. Not in front of Jacob, not in front of Leah.

"Race you to my house?" you challenged a playful grin back on your face.

Jacob's eyes widened. "You sure, Y/n?"

"Absolutely," you replied, your voice stronger than you felt. "Losers buy ice cream!"

With that, you took off towards your house, leaving a bewildered Jacob in your wake. You pumped your legs, the wind whipping through your hair, a desperate attempt to outrun the unfamiliar ache in your heart. You knew this was just the beginning. The beginning of navigating the messy, confusing world of crushes, heartbreak, and maybe, just maybe, someday, love with Leah.

That wouldn't be the first time you would have your heart broken by Leah, at the end of the year the brunette boy had been replaced by a brunette girl and for some strange reason this one hurts so much more, is it because it's a girl this time that Leah seems so enamoured with or is it their proximity on the couch during movie night, a night solely for you, Jacob and Leah only now theirs an intruder sitting in your seat.

You spend the night staring at the pair as Leah wraps her arms around the girl pulling her closer, talking to her quietly.

As the end credits roll Jacob kicks your leg "Are you staying or you going home." You turn to look at the two older girls as Leah plays with the other girls' hair, you haven't cared to learn her name to caught up in the disgusting feelings you once again have "Yeah, can I stay."

The resentment simmered beneath the surface like a forgotten pot on the stove. You mumbled goodnight to Leah and her friend, their intertwined forms a constant reminder of your own crush on the older girl. Back in Jacobs's room, tears welled in your eyes, blurring the image of Leah's smile in your mind. This year's heartbreak felt sharper, laced with a confusing pang of jealousy you hadn't experienced before.

Days bled into weeks, movie nights with Leah replaced by awkward silences as you tried to navigate the new dynamic. You plastered on a smile for Jacob, who shot you worried glances you pretended not to see.

One day, while helping Jacob clean his room, you spotted a crumpled piece of paper tucked under his desk. Curiosity piqued, and you unfolded it. It was a drawing – of boxes that read tick here for yes and here for no. On top, a caption read: "Sarah I like you, will you go out with me."

A gasp escaped your lips. Jacob, the fearless, outspoken Jacob, had a crush too? Relief washed over you, warm and comforting. Maybe your feelings for Leah weren't so strange after all.

Mustering your courage, you approached Jacob after school. "Hey," you began hesitantly, "I saw that note in your room."

Jacobs's cheeks flushed crimson. "Oh! That? Uh, yeah, it's nothing."

You sat next to him on his bed. "Actually, it kind of is. You like Sarah, don't you?"

Jacob looked down at his shoes, kicking them against the wall. "Maybe. But it's stupid. What if she doesn't like me back?"

The memory of your own dinner table confession surfaced. Squeezing Jacobs's hand, you reassured him, "It's not stupid. You have to take a chance, I would if I could with Leah."

Jacob's eyes widened. "Wait, you like Leah?"

"Well, yeah," you confessed, the words tumbling out now that the dam had broken. "But it's complicated."

You poured out your heart, the confusion, the jealousy, the ever-present lump in your throat whenever Leah looked at her girlfriend. Jacob listened patiently, offering words of support and a shared secret that made the burden feel lighter.

The next few weeks were a whirlwind. Jacob confessed to Sarah, who, to your delight, reciprocated. You found solace in their budding relationship, a reminder that love, even unrequited, wasn't the end of the world. You started hanging out with the pair more, forging a deeper friendship built on shared experiences, both triumphant and heartbreaking.

One sunny afternoon, while practising your long kicks in the field behind your house, you stumbled upon Leah sitting by the wall, a familiar forlorn look on her face. Hesitantly, you approached. "Hey," you said softly.

Leah looked up, surprise flickering across her eyes before morphing into a hesitant smile. "Hey, Y/n. What are you doing here?"

You shrugged, sitting down beside her. "Just, practising."

A comfortable silence settled between you, broken only by the gurgling of the leaves. Finally, Leah spoke, her voice low. "We haven't hung out much lately."

You admitted, "Things have been... different."

Leah sighed. "Yeah, I know. I miss our movie nights."

"Me too," you confessed, then blurted out before you could overthink it, "Maybe we could have one again, just you and me?"

A flicker of hope ignited in Leah's eyes. "Really? But what about Jacob...?"

You shook your head, a small smile playing on your lips. "It's okay. He has a date with Sarah."

Leah's smile mirrored yours. "Yeah, they do."

As the sun dipped below the horizon, casting long shadows across the clearing, you and Leah settled in for a movie night, not quite the same as before, but different in a way that held a promise of something new. The ache in your heart had dulled, replaced by a quiet understanding and a newfound appreciation for the complexities of friendship, love, and the messy, beautiful journey of growing up.

You could deal with the heartbreak that came with Leah if that meant you might get to love her fully eventually.

#woso #awfc #woso fanfics #woso one shot #woso imagine #leah williamson #leah williamson x y/n #leah williamson imagine #leah williamson x reader #leah williamson x you #2005 #2007 #2010s #2014

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mariasont · 6 months

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Okay okay, so this doesn't have to be smutty if you don't want but enemies to lovers Spencer, they banter and fight at work they just can't get along * cough sexual tension cough* she is like really short, 5 foot nothing. And one day during an argument she goes "I'll climb you like a tree!" Trying to be intimidating but it comes off as something entirely 😂

Climb You Like A Tree

A/N: ahhhh thank you so much for the request--loved, loved, loveddd writing this! <3 xoxo

‧₊˚ ✩°｡⋆♡ ⋆˙⟡♡ ⋆˙⟡♡⋆｡°✩˚₊‧

pairings: spencer reid x fem!reader

warnings: suggestive flirting, enemies to lovers

wc: 1.1k

From the moment you joined the BAU, you were immediately drawn to Dr. Spencer Reid, resident boy genius and pretty boy. You were hooked on his random facts, and his rare snarky comments--essentially everything about him.

But that admiration swiftly turned into exasperation after just a week of working alongside him. What began as quirky charm quickly soured; his random facts, once amusing, now felt like thinly veiled jabs, and his 'occasional' snark became a relentless critique targeting you. You were at a loss, unable to pinpoint the exact misstep that had seemingly placed you on the receiving end of his pointed barbs, but it was clear you had inadvertently crossed some invisible line.

You couldn't shake the feeling that you were an unwelcome replacement for Alex in his eyes. But surely, he couldn't blame you for that, could he? You tried to overlook his subtle digs, to treat them as mere background noise, but god he made it hard.

Month after month, you kept your head down, refusing the grant him the reaction he so desperately wanted. You were new and hesitant about your place on the team, so you bore the blunt of his jabs with a diplomatic smile.

By the fourth month, you'd reached your breaking point, and you unleashed your own brand of sharp-tongued retorts. You were known for your smart mouth in your old department--a skill that had made you both a standout and a frequent flyer in the disciplinary office. You could sense the team's growing frustration at your constant bickering. Yet, there was an unspoken acknowledgement of the singular abilities you both contributed, a balance that tipped in the favor of necessity.

Today had been particularly challenging, your most recent case had ended in the death of seven victims before the unsub ultimately killed himself, taking the locations of the victims with him. So, when you landed and were greeted not by a moment's rest but by a mocking monolith of paperwork, you were at your wits end.

"Could you click that pen any louder?" you grumbled, your eyes blazing with irritation as they met Spencer's, causing for a momentary pause in your flurry of activity.

"Technically, yes. The Doppler Effect dictates that the perceived volume changes with distance, so if I were to move closer to you, the clicking would indeed sound louder to you," Spencer retorted with a sardonic edge, inching closer across the desk, his pen's clicks swelling in volume as if to underscore the scientific principle he so carefully threw upon you.

"Come any closer and I swear I'll shove that pen where the sun doesn't shine."

"Yeah, you'd like that wouldn't you?"

You bit back the words that sat on the tip of your tongue, acutely aware of Hotch's scrutinizing stare. If was reprimand was on the horizon, you were determined not to be the recipient, despite Spencer's knack for bushing your buttons. The worst part of it all was how undeniably attractive you found Spencer to be--you liked his nerdy comments, the way you had to break your neck to look at him, and even that stupid smirk of his.

It was like a twisted game of fuck, marry, kill--except Spencer was your choice for all three, a secret you'd never admit to anyone. God knows that his ego was already overinflated.

"You know, while acai berries themselves are rich in antioxidants, the bowls are often misleadingly marketed as superfoods. In reality, the excessive amounts of granola, sweetened fruits, and added sugars make it the equivalent of dressing up a dessert as a fruit salad."

Your spoon paused mid-air suspended in the stillness of the break room, as your gaze drifted upwards to lock with Spencer's. A smirk unfurled across your lips, and with deliberate slowness, you savored a slow, exaggerated mouthful, the spoon exiting your mouth with a prolonged, tantalizing pull. A contented moan escaped you. "Mmm, nothing beats a bowl of disguised indulgence. Thanks for the insight, but this 'fruit salad' just became a tad sweeter."

You observed him as he stood, mouth slightly open, eyes glued to your lips with an intensity that bordered on reverence. Anticipating his usual quick-witted comeback, you were met with silence. "Aww, what's the matter, wonder boy? Cat got your tongue?"

"Not at all, but it wouldn't hurt for the cat to catch yours for a change," he replied, stepping forward, his stare cutting through the space between you.

"Look who's talking. When you finally decide to censor your own commentary, that's when I'll consider silence," you pronounced, your acai bowl abandoned on the counter as a wave of irritation surged within you, propelling you forward.

"Censor my commentary? Trust me, If I didn't, we'd be having a very different conversation right now," he murmured, his frame inching so close you could feel the warmth of his breath.

"You must love the sound of my voice to be this close. Remind me again about the Doppler Effect?" you snapped, attempting to sound unaffected, but your body betrayed you--a rush of warmth blooming over your face. "Or is it just my personal bubble that's too tempting?"

"Are you always this flustered when someone invades your space, or am I the exception?" he teased, stepping in even closer, nearly pressing against you. Your gazes locked in a silent challenge as you tilted you head up defiantly, your heart doing somersaults in your chest.

"Flustered? Hardly. I'm just sizing up the tree before I climb," you declare, your gaze sharpening to fine points. "And you're not as tall as you think."

A sudden burst of laughter spilled from Spencer, a rich sound that echoed through the minimal space between you. He didn't step back, your chests touching. The sound jolted you, and as the weight of your own words hit you, a fierce blush flared across your cheeks, your embarrassment impossible to hide.

"Wait, that's not--ugh!" you stammer, but Spencer is already retreating towards the bullpen, his laughter trailing behind him, taunting you. Your voice echoes down the hallway as you hurry after his figure. "Spencer!"

At the bullpen's entrance, Spencer halts, turning to address the team with a grin. "Guess who just said she's planning to climb me like a tree?" he announces, your words now on display for the entire team. Heat creeps into your cheeks as you wish the ground would swallow you whole.

"Called it!" Penelope's voice rang up, her hands waving like she was directing a parade. "Profiler? Please, I didn't need a badge to see this coming. Doubters, eat your hearts out. Get it, girl!"

"I said 'like a tree' in a metaphorical sense, guys. You know, like overcoming obstacles...not literally climbing Spencer!" you mumble, your face hidden behind your hands, the embarrassment radiating from your cheeks.

With a lean that closed the gap between you, Spencer's voice was low and teasing, "Keep telling yourself that."

#spencer reid x reader #spencer #spencer reid #dr reid x reader #dr reid #spencer reid x you #spencer reid fic #criminal minds fandom #doctor spencer reid #mgg #matthew gray gubler #spencer reid fanfic

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