#also I was supposed to just draw her resting her head on a table

[sirbasil]

Art fight attack on @ryebreadedd !!!!

Video version

And gifs!!

[star-girl69]

Music To Watch Girls To

Clarisse La Rue x Fem!Demigod!Reader

—-

sypnosis: is it wrong to be obsessed with clarisse? obviously not!!

a/n: i cant just write a drabble what is wrong w me it’s always gotta be a full fledged fic damn anyways i don’t like this one that much so don’t crucify me, but i hope you all enjoy!!

Music To Watch Boys To - Lana Del Rey

warnings: FRIENDS TO LOVERS GOOD LORD, all clarisse know is be mean to her friends, like girls, and lie, reader is a little insane this time…., it’s not watching clarisse train bc i got struck with inspo but you all will like it dw, there’s still muscles and watching clarisse fight, swearing, violence, mentions of weapons, reader is an honorary ares cabin member bc i think it’s cute and i do what i want, y/n gets hurt like 20 times ITS FOR THE PLOT OK, kissing!!!!, like angst for half a sec not rly tho, tell me if i missed anything!!

—-

The only word you think of when you think of Clarisse is fuck.

It describes your feelings about her so accurately. The first time you saw her, you knew you had to have this girl. And the first time you heard her talk, she was calling some Hephaestus kid a dumbass for not fixing a dent in her armor correctly.

She was an asshole, a bully, whatever, and she was also the hottest thing you’ve ever seen. But, thank the Gods you became close friends with her brother Matty, and then Carrie, and then you practically knew everyone in the Ares cabin like your own siblings.

Even just friendship with Ares kids is an intense rollercoaster.

They admired your for your deadly skill with a bow, a few of them even openly claiming you were probably the best at camp. They were loyal and fierce, protective, funny and everything you could want in a replacement family. Your mortal parent went down a dark road after your godly parent went back to Olympus, and you had never felt that love that everyone craved.

Clarisse hated you at first, like she does everyone, until one day at the bonfire you were sitting with her and a few of her siblings, the fire was hot and it was never the same. You still remember her eyes on you, feeling intoxicated under the moon. Besides, the nights are made for secrets.

And it became a tradition.

You would look at each other next to the fire, and never speak of it again.

The rest of the time, she was like any friend. That same loyalty, focus, but sometimes you could swear she seemed to look a little longer.

After the arrival of Percy Jackson, Clarisse was especially on edge. She was supposed to be training, but she was instead sulking and ranting to Matty and Carrie.

“And he really thinks he killed that Minotaur? Doesn’t matter. That’s what everyone else thinks.”

“Talking about the new kid?” you ask, sitting on top of the picnic table next to their cabin.

“Oh, yeah,” Carrie mumbles. “Talking all about the new kid.”

Clarisse stops her angry pacing to send her a harsh glare.

“He’s just a baby, Clarisse.”

She slams her hand down on the table next to you, pointing her finger in your face.

“He’s a liar,” she hisses. “I’m gonna make him admit it.”

“Hm, okay,” you say, pressing her foot against her stomach and pushing her back. “And that’s totally logical. But have you considered that he actually killed the Minotaur?”

“I’ll punch you.”

“Oh, you love me, Clarisse,” you smile, sweeping your arms out in a big circle. “I’m the brightest part of your day.”

She glares at you.

Matty coughs to hide a laugh.

“Just ignore him!” you say. “I don’t get why you’re so obsessed over him anyways.”

“I’m not explaining myself to you,” she huffs, stubborn as ever.

“Okay, Clarisse,” you say, drawing out the words.

You miss Carrie and Matty shooting each other looks.

—-

Chiron announces the next capture the flag game later that day, and the next morning you’re heading off to the Ares cabin with your bow and armor in tow.

You walk in. They’re all adjusting their armor, polishing their weapons. A few smile at you and wave, but you head straight towards the back. Clarisse is there, helping some of her younger siblings pick out weapons from the secret weapons stash the Ares kids have curated over the years.

It’s Danny’s first game. He’s only twelve.

She looks up at you for a moment, which is about as much acknowledgment as you’re gonna get. You sit at the end of someone’s empty bed, right next to Danny.

“How you feelin’?” you ask. His face is twisted into a stone cold mask.

“Excited,” he says, like he practiced it in the mirror.

“Well, I’m scared.”

He looks at you and frowns.

“You’re the best archer in camp. Matty says so.”

You shrug. “I may be the best archer, but I’m nowhere near the best fighter.”

He nods, thinking hard like the whole world is suddenly starting to make sense.

“Hey, if I promise to keep a look out for you from the trees- will you watch out for me on the ground?”

He doesn’t need your assurance. He’s a child of Ares, they’re prebuilt with the lust for battle. But you know how to play all of them like a fiddle. They like feeling important, and he’s only twelve. It doesn’t hurt you to give this to him.

You stick out your hand and he grabs it.

“Deal.”

“Deal.”

“Y/N,” Clarisse says. You realize she’s been standing there for a while. “Are you here to distract everyone or for a reason?”

“You know, I would welcome you into my cabin warmly.”

Her face remains stone cold. Danny runs off. Clarisse can be some sort of halfway nice, but rarely, and most of the time everyone just knows her cruel words, her ruthless tactics in battle, and her misleading words and smiles.

“You’re no fun,” you pout.

“You’re the one who sticks around. No one’s holding you hostage- you can leave.”

“I need a dagger.”

“Oh,” she says, blinking. “Wow, you actually came here for something? What happened to yours?”

“Broke,” you shrug. “The handle fell off. Weird, whatever.”

She hums, looking through the daggers hung on the wall. “This one.”

She hands it to you. It’s similar to your old dagger, except a lot sharper and a lot more sturdy. But it’s the same style you’re used to. You wonder if she knows that or not- Ares kids do notice everything.

But for Clarisse to actually do something like that with intention is rare.

“I like it,” you say. “Thanks!”

She hesitates for a second.

“Keep it.”

You look at her. “I can give it back.”

“I already told you to keep it. Don’t be pathetic and make me reassure you.”

“Okay, Clarisse,” you roll your eyes.

—-

Your position on capture the flag is always the same.

Carrie, Matty and Clarisse hunt in the woods on the ground, and you get thrown up into some random tree to shoot arrows at anyone you see.

The idea is, they see the arrow coming from up above and look to the trees, only for Clarisse, Matty and Carrie to ambush them on the ground.

It’s only the third game you’ve employed this tactic, so the blue team is starting to catch on.

After Chiron gives his speech you could probably say yourself, you head over to the three of them, holding your arm out to Matty and the red bandana. He ties it around without saying a word, Carrie reaches over and scolds you for not tying your armor tight enough.

“Blah, blah, blah,” you say. “I’ll live.”

“Yeah,” Carrie snorts. “Because I fixed it.”

“Shush,” Clarisse hisses. She finishes talking to a few more of her siblings, and they take their companies off into the woods. She turns back around. “I have a different plan today.”

Carrie and Matty grin dangerously.

There’s something in between the three of them, some sort of matching glint in their eyes.

“Okay, did I miss something? Why are you guys being so… scary?”

“You’ll see,” Clarisse says, her eyes dark.

Gods, it’s the hottest thing you’ve ever seen.

—-

The great thing about being up in the trees is you get to see everything.

You get to see the way Clarisse grins while she fights, the way she whips her spear around like it weights nothing, the way sweat forms at her brow- and the way her muscles flex. That’s the best part.

Her arms, her legs, her stomach, every part of Clarisse is just lean and toned muscle.

It makes you want to betray yourself in a way that would permanently embarrass you.

You follow them, of course, even though you have no idea what the hell is happening or what the plan is. There’s a reason she’s not telling you the plan. Why?

When you walk past the woods where you normally hunt, you start getting fidgety.

“Ok, guys, seriously. Tell me what’s going on.”

You realize you’re heading towards the side of the big hill, starting the climb up through the trees and rocks.

Clarisse turns around.

“Stop. Worrying.”

You grit your teeth. “I’m not worried. I’m just confused.”

She sighs, signaling to Carrie and Matty.

“You know,” she mutters. And they leave, so it’s just the two of you.

They spit up, making their way on the farthest two ends, all leading to the same ledge.

She grabs your wrists. “Stop cracking your fingers. It’s annoying, and you’ll hurt ‘em.”

“Then tell me what’s going on.”

She lets go of one of your wrists, but keeps her tight grip on the other, forcing you to keep pace behind her.

“I’m not gonna tell you again, Y/N. Don’t worry. I’m not going to put you in danger, obviously.” She laughs, as if the idea is ridiculous. “You’re a damn good archer.”

“Oh, my Gods. Did you just compliment me?”

She tenses up, finally realizing she did it.

“D-don’t let it go to your head.”

“Oh, I won’t. It will just be our little secret, won’t it?”

You bite your lip as you smile so you don’t burst out laughing.

“Sure,” she mutters, and you don’t miss the way she stares at your lips. She clears her throat, finally letting go of your wrist. “Percy Jackson-”

“Who’s a baby.”

“-attacked us last night.”

You raise an eyebrow, walking next to her. “Did you attack him first?”

She doesn’t answer that.

“I doubted you would join us. I just didn’t want you to be alone in the woods.”

“Why?”

“Hm, I saw Annabeth as we left the bathrooms. She knows, she knows we’re gonna get revenge so Luke’s gonna go straight for the flag because we’re not in the woods.”

“So you’re just sacrificing the entire game for revenge? Against a 12-year-old?”

“Revenge,” she mutters, thinking over it. “That’s a fun word.”

She smiles, looking at you.

“Oh, Gods,” you mutter.

—-

The rest of the walk continues in silence, until you can see Carrie and Matty in the distance, both waiting for Clarisse’s signal. She grins.

“Now, why don’t you just stay behind me and draw an arrow, and tell me if anyone’s coming. And when he’s distracted, you’ll sneak around behind him and block him from escaping, hm?”

You look around the forest. “Okay. But, Clarisse-”

She smacks her hand over your face. “I don’t need your morality right now. I just need you to keep those pretty eyes open and be our lookout.”

“Fine,” you hiss as you throw your hand off her mouth.

“Thank you,” she smiles, sarcastically. “Was that so hard?”

You mock her under your breath, but she signals to Carrie and Matty. They all start walking forward, trying for stealth, but your feet make sink into the gravel. He hears them. He sits up.

You don’t know anything about Percy Jackson, except for the fact he supposedly attacked the three musketeers you call your friends and possibly killed a Minotaur.

True to your word, you stay behind Clarisse, watching as she lifts her helmet off, throwing it to the ground.

Her spear sinks into the dirt.

“Flag’s that way,” Percy says. “It’s not here.”

“We know.”

You start walking out from behind her. His eyes flick between all four of you.

“Yeah, glory’s fine.” You can feel her eyes on you. “Revenge is more fun.”

She looks up at her spear, slamming it down, and you hear the familiar crackle as it lights up. Red hot electricity.

She laughs a bit.

He scrambles for his sword and spear, forgoing his helmet. They close him in. You walk around Carrie and behind him. His eyes move between you and Clarisse, but there’s nothing he can do to stop the four of you from surrounding him.

“No maiming. It’s like the one rule.”

His stance isn’t even close to correct.

“Yeah, I guess I’ll lose dessert privileges for a while,” she fake frets, looking up at her spear. She smiles and looks back at him. “I’ll live.”

Her face twists into a mask of focus and she swings out at him. He manages to dodge her first hit, and block the second with his shield.

She looks at Carrie and Matty. They lunge forward, attacking him together, and he certainly is a demigod- he has a natural talent.

But you can only really focus on the way she lifts her spear back over her head.

She grunts and spins, shocking him, before jabbing forward at his armor, making him fall back over the log he used to be laying on, right at your feet.

“I’m actually not interested in maiming or killing you, believe it or not,” she says, standing over him. “I just want you to admit you’re a fraud. It’d make me feel better. Are you feeling up to that yet?”

The way she holds her spear, the way she says it’ll make her feel better- you miss the way he swings out with his shield, hitting you in the shins.

“Fuck,” you hiss, leaning down to touch your burning leg. “Oh, fuck, that hurt.”

Percy grunts and takes off running.

“Y/N,” Matty says, a silent question in his concerned voice.

“I’m fine,” you mumble, shaking your leg out.

Clarisse glares at his retreating figure.

“I guess he has a fucking death wish,” she whispers, voice full of a deadly promise.

She grunts and launches herself over the log, Carrie and Matty following. You straighten yourself and take off running after them. You leg does burn, but you still manage to keep pace. Besides, Matty is already far ahead, surprising him and knocking him down from the path, making him tumble through the woods and land on the beach.

Matty and Carrie wave their swords at him from the right. He pants and breathes heavily, backing up, but when he turns around to run- Clarisse is there.

You draw your bow again, out of habit.

The arrows you use aren’t actual arrows of course, but filed down to little circle rocks at the end. They won’t kill you, but they fucking hurt.

You can’t help but giggle as he falls onto his back, scared just by Clarisse being there.

She laughs too, before all three of them launch into an attack.

They push him back, towards you, and you step back with them, waiting for the perfect moment.

But your eyes drift up to Clarisse. She’s hanging back for just a second while Matty and Carrie jab at him. She looks… proud. She looks really fucking proud that you’re laughing at this 12-year-olds misery.

But Clarisse was right. Revenge is fun. And you hate it, but you can’t stop it.

You smile back at her, and it’s like those nights at the bonfire, you know you’ll never speak of it again. It doesn’t matter. Right now, there’s angelic music playing in your head, and you’re watching her. You’re watching her, the sweat on her brow, the way her hands clasp her spear.

Her face twists into something else.

“Y/N!” she shouts, but Carrie and Matty pushed him too far, you didn’t move back enough- distracted by her- and you slam into each other, a tangle of limbs and metal.

He does this awkward sort of flip over you, landing a few feet behind you. You drop your bow in favor of catching yourself, and it gets caught on his shield and dragged along with him.

It’s a blur, you yelp as you go down, Percy groans.

They’re all standing there, tense and watching the way Percy stands up with your bow in his hands. His stance is nowhere near correct, it actually makes you cringe more than your bruised side after the fall.

Why the hell are you the one who keeps getting hurt?

Percy let’s out a breath. “Why don’t we all just walk away and forget this happened?”

“You just made that impossible,” Clarisse hisses.

You just want to get an ice pack on your leg and sit down. You’re tired. You want to boss Clarisse around as payment for bringing you here.

“Okay, okay, just stop. This is stupid, all of you. He’s, like, 12. He didn’t do it on purpose, you’re just attacking him for no reason.” Carrie and Matty look at the ground. Clarisse glares at you.

You turn around and face Percy. “Just go, okay.”

He looks between you and Clarisse.

“O-okay,” he breathes.

You can feel her move, hear her footsteps in the sand, her spear cutting through the wind. She comes around you, and Percy gets scared, so he raises up the bow and let’s it go- pointed straight at her face.

But it never hits her. It hits you, of course, because you have the worst luck in the world.

It hits you right in the chest, and it doesn’t kill you, but Percy is strong and it knocks the wind out of you.

Clarisse throws her spear to the ground and catches you, screaming your name at the top of her lungs.

Gods, this was so stupid. All of it. He didn’t mean to hurt you, he meant to stop her from attacking him. Because Clarisse is bloodthirsty. She cares about no one else but herself.

You were stupid to think she ever did.

But even through all of this, everyone treating you like a rag doll, you stare into Clarisse’s eyes. She’s frozen. She’s watching the rapid rise and fall of your chest, she’s watching the way you press your hand into your chest, trying to breathe, she’s looking at the fear in your eyes.

You’re terrified. And Clarisse looks the exact same way you feel.

You mouth her name.

Carrie and Matty are gathered around you, telling you to just breathe, take a breath in, but you can’t.

Clarisse let’s go of you and ignores your hands trying to hold her back, ignores Carrie warning her.

Oh, Gods, you’re in love with her and she’s just your friend, but it all hurts and you just need her right now.

Percy tries to scramble away from what he’s done, but Clarisse grabs him by his shirt and holds him up.

You think she’s actually going to kill him- then the conch sounds.

You all turn around.

The blue team runs to the beach, sticking the red flag into the ground. They all cheer loudly, Luke and Chris at the center of it.

Clarisse throws Percy back down on the ground.

She picks up your bow. Matty helps you stand up, you can breathe now, and you’re really fine. You just couldn’t for a minute. You don’t look at Clarisse, even though you want to.

—-

The four of you end up at the sword practice field, sitting on picnic tables like you did that one day.

Matty touches a few scratches on his arms from where he burst through the woods, scraping himself on something thorny.

Clarisse walks towards a dummy and starts attacking it. She lets all her anger out on it. They didn’t win, and her revenge is incomplete so, its not even worth it. You could have told her that from the beginning, but whatever.

Clarisse can do whatever she wants. She doesn’t listen to you, she doesn’t care about you- not as much as you want her too. Not as much as you care about her.

She’s so wonderfully in her element it makes you want her more. This is where she belongs, in the field in the sun, with her spear in her hands. She belongs here, where she feels closest to her father and farthest away from her responsibilities, from the constant battle it is for her to keep her emotions in check.

Even after a minute of her obliterating the dummy, she seems better. Finally, after another minute, she slows down until she stops.

You don’t stop looking at her until she turns around and looks at you. She breathes out.

“Are you okay?” she asks, sitting down on the opposite end of the bench.

“Fine. Just got the wind knocked out of me.”

She hums.

“C’mon, Matty,” Carrie says. “Let’s go back to the cabin, I’m thirsty.”

You’re not ready to get up yet, you’re too comfortable here on the bench, it’s too easy to breathe in the valley.

Clarisse flexes, stretching her spear over her head, and you watch her. Of course you watch her. You don’t think you’ll ever just be able to look at her in passing- you’ll always have to focused, you’ve always have to have your eyes totally and completely on her.

Like she’s some book you have to study. Like she’s all you’ve ever wanted to look at.

“Stop staring at me, weirdo,” she mumbles.

You sit up straighter. “I’m not. You’re just flexing dramatically all over the place, of course I’m gonna take notice of it.”

“Okay, sure,” she taunts, and you remember what happened, you remember how you felt when she walked away from you to continue with her revenge.

“I-I’m gonna go back to my cabin.” You don’t wanna be around her, not right now at least. “See you later, Clarisse.”

She stands up immediately. “I’ll walk you.”

“No, thanks, it’s fine.”

“Y/N, you got hurt because of me.” She crouches down and tugs up your pant leg. “How’s your leg? Your side?”

Matty, Carrie and Clarisse too, sometimes, are always touching you and doing things for you. It’s sweet. They aren’t good with the words, but they show you they love you, and that means more than anything else.

If she hadn’t done what she did, if she really cared about you, then you wouldn’t mind her touching you like this. You would love it.

“Clarisse- get off of me,” you shake your leg out, which hurts a bit, but she lets go and stands up.

Her face twists into one of anger, her fists clenched.

“I’m sorry, okay. I’m sorry you got hurt. I feel really bad about it, so just let me do this for you.”

“It’s not about that,” you mumble, cursing yourself and hoping she doesn’t hear you. Of course she does.

“Then what’s it about?”

You try to turn away, but she clamps her around your wrist and tugs you back towards her.

“What’s it about, Y/N?”

She holds your hand to her chest.

You both know what it’s about.

“Just stop, Clarisse,” but your body betrays you and you make no move to push her away. She notices, of course she notices, and she pulls you closer. “We’ve been dancing around each other for months.”

She blinks and her grip on your wrist loosens.

“And it was fun. It was a fun game, okay, Clarisse. But you can stop playing it now. You showed me today that your care more about yourself then you ever could me. I’m sick of it.” You tug your hand away. “I’m so sick of it, Clarisse.”

She grips you tighter again.

“What the hell are you talking about? I’m running around looking like a fool, and you think I care about myself? You think I don’t care about you?”

Your breath is a little shaky again.

“You could have helped me and you chose revenge.”

“For you.”

“What?”

“He slammed his shield into your leg, knocked you over, and then shot you in the chest. Of course I wanted revenge. Not for me, it was about that at first, but then, Gods, did you do something to him?”

You laugh. She smiles, staring at your face like she’s seeing you for the first time.

“Like, he just kept coming after you, I don’t get it. But I… I like you. Like, like you. And I don’t know what that means, but I don’t really care. I just… want you. I want to be near you all the time. And I go crazy when you’re with someone else. I want to touch you all the time, hug you, hold you… I want to kiss you so bad I think I’m gonna fucking explode.”

Fuck is always the first word you think of when you think of her. It used to be because she made you so angry with the secrets, but now it’s just the things the says make you wonder how much more you can fall in love with her.

“Well, I don’t really want you to explode,” you roll your eyes. “That’d be too messy. Besides, I-”

“You’re always such a fucking worrier.”

She plants her hands on your face and presses her lips to yours. You can feel the slight desperateness she won’t say, but she’ll tell you with her body. You can feel everything she won’t show, won’t say. How beautiful you are. How scared she was. How much she wanted you and for how long.

You feel it all just by her lips, and you can’t help but wonder what more she can tell you.

She pulls back and smiles.

“If you tell anyone about this, I’ll deny it.”

“I’m the light of your life, Clarisse.”

“Yeah,” she agrees, grabbing you tighter and kissing you again. You grab onto her arms, smiling. You always wondered what he muscles would feel like against you.

There’s only one word to describe the way it feels.

Fuck.

—-

clarisse when she accidentally told y/n she has pretty eyes: PLEASE DONT NOTICE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE

y/n my ladybug not noticing: 🧍‍♀️

—-

y/n and clarisse just being insane together WDYM YOURE LAUGHING WHEN A KID FALLS OVER STOP

—-

clarisse: bitch stop WORRYING

y/n: WHAT THE FUCK DO YOU WANT FROM ME SHUT UP

—-

clarisse and y/n both pretending that clarisse giving her a dagger wasnt literally a declaration of love and also clarisse throwing her spear down to catch y/n???? bitch she’s in LOVE

—-

taglist:

@jazhandzzz

@lvrue @t-wylia @laughingcheese037 @kroumi @urdeadpoet @colezb @rey26 @harmzilla @elliewilliamsbae @amberfreemansburntface @kyuupidwrites @neverwaakeme-up @shark1008 @liballer @heyimadison @nvirskies @pnsteblnme @mar2ss @restellsss

[violet-eng]

Wife!fem!reader thinks Loid is cheating on her. | NSFW 🔞

So... guess who saw Code White?

Based on the sad and humiliating premise of Code White, where you, Loid's wife-for-hire, think he has a mistress. And you suspect even more when your friends put ideas in your head.

Warning: short. Seriously. Short. Also 🔞 mdni. Exhibitionism? Pussy digging on the train. And just that...

Wk: 800? Not edited btw.

If you want more Loid, check this.

🍃🌱🌿🍵🍃🌱🌿🍵🍃🌱🌿

You'd seen him on that woman in the alley, his hands on her and his torso covering her, as close as you'd like him to be with you in public.

Your relationship with Loid is complicated, a marriage of convenience between the two of you to raise a child you suspect is not even his. A nuanced marriage of blurred contours, with under-the-table displays of affection or hushed sighs in your shared bedroom at night. During the day, however, those wilted displays of affection dampened the passion between the two of you and your feelings for him, or so you thought, until you saw him in that alley.

Then he had come home that night, before you, and proposed the idea of traveling as a family. First sign of infidelity: sporadic trips. Though taking you with him seemed like an oversight, you couldn't sleep that night, not with the thought of Loid thinking about any woman but you.

You watched him sleep next to you, blond curls against the pillow, white shirt snug against his toned arms, and you lamented that you were not the woman who enjoyed his abundant affection and total devotion. You were frustrated that you were only a sporadic lay, a means to relieve stress, though you had to admit that you were using him for your own purposes as well. Sex without love, an arranged marriage like any other.

So you lay on the train and watched Anya struggle with her schoolwork. And then, green flag, the girl goes to the bathroom, leaving you and Loid alone. He picks up Anya's notebook, frowning as he tries to decipher his supposed daughter's handwriting, and you, in an insane outburst, finding yourself fascinated by the gestures of your very attractive husband, caress his leg with your foot. First, from the ankle to the knee, slowly and seductively, while you look at him with your chin resting on your hands and your head cocked to one side, hoping to elicit even the slightest reaction from him.

Nothing.

You watch him carefully, your foot trying to push his knees apart, all in silence until a sound comes from his lips:

"You're kind of anxious," not what you expected to hear, and worse, you find it humiliating that he says it to you in that low tone of voice he only uses when you're alone in bed, the one he knows melts your legs.

You cross your arms, annoyed at yourself for acting like a hormonal teenager, and at him for reprimanding you, or so you think, until you feel his foot slide up your leg.

Bingo.

Anya takes a while in the bathroom, and you both know you have plenty of time. That's why he's sitting next to you, his chest against your back and one of his hands resting on the window pane. You watch the beautiful landscape stretching out in front of you as you blur the window with every sigh Loid draws from you. His fingers are between your legs, his hand has cleverly slipped under the waistband of your skirt and your panties.

You cling to his arm, trying to control the spasms of your body from the circular motion of his fingers on your pussy. But you find it impossible, especially when he kisses your neck and whispers nonsense against your skin.

"Loid… mhhh" you whisper as you turn to face him and find his head resting on your shoulder, his eyes completely closed as he enjoys the wet sound of your center being stirred by his fingers, "Do you have another woman?"

Your question takes him by surprise, but not enough to stop him from pleasuring you.

"If I had another woman, would I be here having me in your pussy?". He answers you as matter-of-factly as if his words were not as inappropriate as his actions.

The orgasm hits you just as the locomotive whistle turns into a high-pitched scream. Loid holds you tight as your body tenses and your legs stretch. You fall into his embrace and feel a kiss on your temple.

"There will never be another woman," he tells you in a soft, gentle tone as his hand strokes your hair, "only you, only and only you, my darling".

🍃🌱🌿🍵🍃🌱🌿🍵🍃🌱🌿

If you want more Loid, check this

[drvirgus]

Protecting (my heart)

Idol! Minji X bodyguard! Reader

Description: getting a new job as NewJeans bodyguard isn't really something Y/n thought would happen to her. What exactly happens when she suddenly felt attracted to one of the NewJeans members? Can Y/n stay professional or are her feelings for Minji too much to handle?

Warnings: stalking; harassment; kys jokes; suggestive language; death threats; mention of abuse; mention of murder;

Chapter: I’m waiting (half-written)

Masterlist

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Smiling, I looked at Hanni as I held the tongs in my hand. The smell of grilled meat wafted under my nose as I patiently waited. Hanni had her drink in hand and was telling one of her stories, which brought a smile to my face.

Chuckling, I turned the meat over to cook the other side. Beside me, Minji nodded, also giving Hanni her full attention, a small smile on her lips. As individual pieces of meat were ready, I placed them on Hanni's and Minji's plates. Both of them immediately thanked me as I put more meat on the grill.

I watched as Hanni and Minji ate, which made me smile. "We shouldn't eat too much," Hanni sighed. "I heard some complaints about us gaining weight," she explained when she noticed my questioning gaze.

I looked a bit more serious and rolled my eyes. "Eat as much as you want. Screw what others think," I said, taking a deep breath. My jaw was slightly tense. "You both. All of you have perfect figures," I said, narrowing my eyes slightly. "So don't force yourselves and just live. That's how life is more fun," I added, laughing lightly, which Minji immediately agreed with.

So I kept putting meat on their plates until Minji leaned closer to me. "You eat too," she said, holding out the salad with kimchi and meat to me. I smiled and opened my mouth, allowing Minji to feed me.

I smiled, which made Minji smile too. Hanni watched the whole thing and started giggling as she filled our shot glasses with soju. She raised her glass, and we followed suit, clinking our glasses together before downing the drinks.

My eyes scanned the empty store. Unfortunately, it had to be this way. After all, I was here with two very famous idols. "By the way, I'm leaving for two days tomorrow," Minji said, looking at me.

"At what time? I'll drive you," I immediately replied. Hanni chuckled when she noticed how familiar Minji and I already were with each other. She seemed to be watching us closely, but I didn't really notice.

Minji smiled at me immediately as she sighed. Her head rested on my shoulder. "The flight is at 10," she said, and I nodded immediately. I hummed a little as I continued to check the meat and turned it. "Then I'll pick you up around 7? We could have breakfast before you fly," I said, and Minji lifted her head from my shoulder with a wide smile on her lips as she nodded eagerly.

I smiled and nodded back. Now I set the tongs aside. "I'll just go to the bathroom for a moment," I said, looking at Minji and then Hanni before I stood up and made my way to the restroom.

Unaware of the conversation Hanni and Minji were having, which I naturally wasn't supposed to know about, I returned to the table with still slightly damp hands that I shook off along the way. Unfortunately, I noticed two tall, visibly drunk men standing at the table, apparently conversing with the two idols.

With a furrowed brow, I approached the table. My eyes immediately scanned the two men as I scrutinized them for any signs of a camera, phone, or even a weapon.

"I'm sorry. This is a private event," I said, putting on a friendly smile and drawing the attention of the men towards me.

I was an idiot for forgetting to lock the door...

"Why though? It's boring just being with three people," one of the men said, and the slightly shorter one nodded with a grin on his face. The smaller one, who was still taller than all of us, leaned towards me.

"Let us join. I promise we'll have a lot of fun," he said, his breath smelling of alcohol, which immediately gave me an uncomfortable feeling. I sighed, but I stood my ground. "Please leave the premises," I reiterated, this time with an even more serious tone and no smile on my face.

The drunk friend just chuckled as he suddenly grabbed Hanni's arm. With a quick movement, I grabbed his wrist and twisted it behind his back, my other hand on his shoulder.

He screamed in pain, "Damn bitch, let me go!" he demanded, but I simply dragged him towards the door, his smaller friend watching with his mouth hanging open.

With a shove, I threw the man out of the store. I could see him rubbing his wrist in pain. "I could easily beat you up," he threatened me, but he didn't move an inch.

I ignored him and turned to his drunk friend. "Are you leaving voluntarily, or do I have to do the same with you?" I asked calmly, causing him to nervously smile. As he walked away, he bowed repeatedly to the idols and me. "I've only had my arm broken recently. I don't want any trouble," he slurred as he voluntarily left the store.

"Damn. That slut lied," I heard one of the drunk men mutter as I simply closed and locked the door. With a sigh, I returned to the table where Minji and Hanni were looking at me with wide eyes.

I cleared my throat as I settled properly into my seat, my eyes focused on Hanni. "Did he hurt you?" I asked, visibly concerned, but Hanni shook her head in response. Annoyed, I sighed again. "I'm sorry. That was my mistake. I forgot to lock the door," I explained, but neither of them reacted.

Questioningly, I looked first at Hanni and then at Minji. "What's wrong?" I asked casually as I took the tongs once again and placed new meat on the grill. The sizzling sound could be heard clearly throughout the room.

"How can you be so casual about it? You just kicked them out without any problem," Hanni said, leaning forward slightly with her mouth open. I laughed awkwardly and rubbed the back of my neck.

"Well, I'm not your bodyguard for nothing," I replied with a smile, feeling my cheeks flush slightly. Hanni laughed in response, which made Minji laugh too.

Surprised by the loud sound Minji made, I raised my eyebrows and looked at her. Hanni refilled our glasses again. "That's how she always laughs," Hanni said. My eyes still on Minji as I simply smiled. I could feel my face relaxing completely.

My heartbeat quickened.

[the-avs]

Promo~?

As the camera flickers to life, thanks to some fiddling by a man in a blue suit, you were able to see four individuals. The TV-faced man sat back down, sighing and breathing heavily, as though he had just performed serious labor. On the far left, just beside the TV-headed man, was another man with red hair and deer ears, and a sinister smile painting his lips as he sipped on what looked like black coffee. On the other side of the TV man, there was another man smoking a cigar with pink fumes swirling around the room, and wearing a large red coat with striped neck fluff. And finally, on the far right, there was the only girl in the room, a young lady with red, white, and black swirled hair, scrolling on her phone with a bored expression. She appears the most trendy of them all in terms of her clothing.

"Phew..." the TV man panted, turning to face the deer-eared man beside him. "Fuck, Alastor, why did you insist on this camera?" he demanded between breaths, the deer man simply lowering his mug from his lips and setting it down onto a coaster on the table.

"Ah, tsk, tsk, darling. You simply don't know the difference between class and 'trendy'. Rest assured, an older camera will do us just fine," the man assured. He then tilted his head, his smile never dropping, although he looked confused. "So I suppose it's on then, yes?"

"The fuck- Of course it's on! We're rolling! Fuck, let's just go down the line. Vel, you first, because I can't breathe," the TV man insisted, drawing out a groan from the girl. She didn't put her phone down, but she did spare you a look, looking at you with a bored expression.

"Fine. Name's Velvette, youngest overlord and ruler of social media 'n shit. Yadda yadda, you get the gist, don't be a dick, don't be a fashion disaster, and we'll get along fine," she listed as though it was nothing before quickly returning her gaze back to her phone.

The man beside the young woman gave a sinister smirk, a sickening look of lust painting his already creepy face. "Heya, sweet cheeks. Name's Valentino, owner of the Pride Ring's porn industry. Need a guy, a girl, something in between? I got you. I also accept 'sir' or 'daddy'~." Creep. Luckily, the attention is quickly taken off of him when the TV-headed man feigns a cough to get your attention.

"Ignore him, ignore him," he tried to laugh it off and be nonchalant. Valentino was still creepy, though. "I'm Vox, of course, the CEO and main engineer of VoxTek and numerous other products you may have heard of, including Voot Floops, VVs, the sound system Valkyrie, and of course, the Vogitek music app, not to mention VoxTube and the like. Pleased to make your acquaintance~" he said in a charmingly fake, yet professional tone, clearly attempting to maintain the appearance of the group's leader.

"Vox, darling, this isn't an advertisement," the man beside Vox said with a chuckle, a Cheshire grin spreading on his face. "Greetings, you wayward sinners! I'm certain most of you already know of me, but for formalities and politeness sake, I'll introduce myself. You may know me as the Radio Demon, my name is Alastor, darling! A pleasure to meet you, certainly, quite a pleasure! Now then, you see, we on the AVs have been rather bored as of late, and we'd like to socialize with those around us, so... would you be so kind as to give us a promo, dear~?"

(( Feel free to ignore, interact if not tagged, or ask for your tag to be removed!! :D ))

@human-monokuma @unknown-ultimates @ultimate-rider @pizza-for-my-friends @bartender-husk @bigkaijubaddie @hellhound-loony @hoshi-neko-hikari and anyone else!! Tagging is hard lmao-

[russellsppttemplates]

first father day for our boys!

Note: it's dad!driver, which we all love!

Charles Leclerc

"We don't want to wake up papa, right, my love?", you asked your son as you took him out of his bed, changing his diaper in the changing table, "and now you're going to tuck into mama's chest while I make us some breakfast", you wrapped him in the sling, grabbing your utensils and starting your baking.

When you had everything ready, you put it in a tray, balancing the tray and your son, "see? Papa drives really fast cars, but can he do what mama's doing? I don't think so, mon ange", you kissed the top of his head, walking inside the bedroom and seeing your shirtless husband resting his back against the headboard, "seems papa is not going to be surprised as he is up already", you scrunched your nose, setting the tray down on the bed so you could unwrap Hervé so he could go to Charles, "happy father's day, my love", you said as Hervé snuggled on his chest.

"Aren't you happy today?", Charles cooed as his son smiled up at him, "I really want to spend the day in bed with my two favourite people, if that's okay", your husband suggested, "and I smell some delicious pancakes, which is more the reason to stay inside", he smiled.

Sitting next to him, you snuggled to his side, the both of you looking at your baby boy, "you're the best papa, Charles, and we are both so lucky to have you in our lives", you whispered, rubbing your nose on his bicep, "I'm the lucky one, Y/N".

George Russell

"Hey, little love", George croaked out as Olivia crawled up to him, her hands going up to his face as she tapped his stubbly cheek, "isn't this a great morning greeting, hm? Seeing your gorgeous face right in the morning", your husband straightened up, propping himself against the pillows so he could sit Olivia on his lap.

"Mummy is doing something downstairs, isn't she? She always goes all out for these celebrations, and we love that very much, but she also loves to do those things alone, she likes having control over it", he smiled as his daughter grabbed his cheeks, "they're not as squishy as yours, buy they'll do apparently", he managed to say as Olivia pulled and pushed.

After waiting a little bit, George out on a t-shirt and walked downstairs with Olivia on his hip, finding his wife in her pyjamas, writing a card, "hello, handsome. Me and Liv are you a card", you smiled as you showed him the abstract drawing, "very artsy, that's for sure. So we are having breakfast and then going to my parents'?", he recalled, "yes. Your mother just texted me saying the surprise for your father if going in full swing, he doesn't suspect a thing", you smiled.

"Sounds like grandpa is going to love his surprise then", George cheered to Olivia, "all of the kids and grandkids in the same place".

Mick Schumacher

"When mama said she was surprising papa, she didn't account for you walking me up, did she?", Mick said as Aurora fussed in her cot beside the bed, making him pick her up so he coiled changed her diaper and grab her bottle, "she forgets that your our alarm clock these days", he chuckled as he walked downstairs, wanting to make it easier for you and not having you carry anything upstairs.

Pierre Gasly

"She's baking that cake I really like, isn't she? I bet you told her I was craving it, and that was our secret, miss Rora", he chuckled, crossing the corner and seeing Angie greet him excitedly before he heard your voice, "I knew you were up the minute Angie left me in the kitchen. This little bug was supposed to keep sleeping so you would be surprised", you pouted, hugging your husband's torso and kissing your daughter's cheek.

"I can go back upstairs if you want me to act surprised", Mick pointed to the stairs, "I'll just jump and pretend I didn't know you were baking my favourite, I'll even let out a small scr-", he chuckled out as you started tickling his stomach, "I'm perfectly fine with eating here. I have my girls, all three of them", he said as Angie laid by his feet, "best father's day ever".

"This is where papa used to race", Pierre spoke to Alexandre as he looked curiously around the track. Since his brothers also wanted to spend a fun father's day wirh their kids, who were a good bit older than your son, he rented out the karting track so they could spend their day together.

Lance Stroll

"And you will too one day, if that's something you'd like to do, join your cousins for races and battle for the first place", Pierre continued, "we might have to wait a while, I'm sure mama will wrap you in bubble wrap the minute you say something about karting and I'm going to be the one to hear about it the first time you have so much of a scratch".

"They're the duo you always imagined they would be, hm?", your sister in-law Charlotte said as you sat down at the tables, sipping on your coffees, "he's my son, and I know he loves me as I love him, but as soon as Pierre gets back or as soon as he sees him, it's gars competing with my husband for his attention", you smiled, "the fact that they're lookalikes also helps the whole thing, it's Pierre and his mini him, and he loves every second of it".

"I don't know if I ever told you, but when you were pregnant, he was so worried he wasn't going to be a good father because of his schedule, that you and Alexandre would resent him sooner rather than later. We told him he was so wrong, there was no way that would happen", Charlotte noted, "and it's true, look at him", you pointed at your husband who was adjusting Alexandre in a go kart with him as the baby sat on his lap, "the best papa".

"When mummy and I found out we were expecting you, I think that was one of the best days of my life", Lance told the little baby resting in his arms, big brown eyes looking up at his own and hanging on to every word he was saying, "the other ones are probably when I won my first race, when mummy and I started dating, and when we got married. The day you were born, though, that was another level of happiness and a bunch of other emotions", Lance gulped, "you made me a father, Addy, and I hope I'm doing my best because you and mummy deserve the world, the moon and the stars, and I'm trying to get them for you", he said as he snuggled her further into the blanket and on his chest.

The night was beautiful, nice temperature and clear sky so you could see the stars, shining beautifully. The plans weren't big, but neither of you liked big plans. A cabin for the weekend and the perfect environment to just chill out and enjoy family time.

"Here's your mug", you called, holding the two steaming mugs with tea and setting your husband's in the arm of the big garden sofa, "we're you two having a chat?", you asked, kissing Lance's lips and Addalynn's head, "is it a chat if it's just me doing the talking? Little miss is not very keen on sharing her opinion", he chuckled.

"She loves listening to you, I think she's fine with just that", you smiled, taking a sip from your mug and snuggling up to him, "did you like your first father's day, love?", you wondered, "I loved it, I spent it with my favourite girls, doing my favourite things", he smiled back, "there's nowhere o would rather be", he said before kissing your forehead.

Daniel Ricciardo

Daniel had been the one to make the plans for his first father's days: a picnic in the garden with his wife and daughter. They ate croissants they had baked in the morning and shared giggles and silly faces whilst enjoying the sun.

"I'm going to make a flower bracelet for you, little one", he explained as he gathered the flowers, "this is going to be a present for you, even though it will never come close to the best present I ever got from mummy, which is you, by the way, in case daddy wasn't clear", he chuckled, "so we begin with this one here, and we thread it through here", he kept showing her as you took in the sight.

Daniel was the best father to your little girl. There wasn't a moment where he didn't give his all for her, always there at her every need and encouraging her whenever she braved through in her explorer adventures, "That's right, that goes in your wrist. Clever girl!", he cooed, kissing her chubby cheeks.

(Thank you for submitting an ask 🤍)

[starstruckunknown-princess]

Magnolia - Din Djarin x Reader

Magnolia (Magnolia) - Meaning: Dignity, perseverance

Summary: Din is blackmailed by Peli into going to the doctor for the first time since he took his Creed. The doctor is not what he expected.

Pairing: Din x Reader (3rd person POV)

Word Count: 2386

Warnings: 3rd person POV, Peli being a bit of a bully, no Grogu, probably inaccurate Star Wars medical practices, Din being mysterious, tattooed!Din, needles/hyposprays, brief helmetless!Din but not in front of reader, awkward!Din warming up to someone, slight touch-starved!Din if you squint

Day 16 is the longest so far! This was supposed to be the first chapter of a series featuring Din and a doctor love interest, but I think it works here too. Also, today is my anniversary with my partner, so I'm dedicating this to him! 13 years together, 9 married. Holy shit, where does time go?

In Bloom Masterlist

Likes, Comments, Reblogs are ALWAYS appreciated! ❤️

“I don’t wanna hear it, Mando!” the older woman exclaimed, “Doc, you here? Sit down, would ya? You’re makin’ me nervous. Doc?” 

A modulated voice said something she couldn’t make out as she made her way out of the exam room to the waiting area. Peli was facing her, hands of her hips, but her attention immediately went to she silver-clad form of a man sitting on a chair in her waiting room. His head was covered with a shiny helmet, his gloved hands resting on his thighs, and even though she couldn’t read his expression on his face she could see the tension in his form. 

“Good, you’re here,” Peli said to her, “My friend Mando here,” she jerked her thumb over her shoulder to the man, “has just informed me that he hasn’t been to a doctor since he was a child, and in his line of work that seems really stupid so I dragged him here, you got time for an exam?” 

“Of course,” she said, “but I feel it needs to be said that I don’t usually perform exams on unwilling patients…over the age of 8, that is.” She smirked. And the Mandalorian’s helmet tilted as if in disbelief. He rose to his feet, his full height and breadth unfolding to take up much more space than she’d initially thought. 

“Fine,” the modulated voice said, ”Let’s get this over with.” 

Peli’s smirk read of something deeper than concern for her beskar-clad friend, but she didn’t have time to parse it for meaning as the Mandalorian made his way toward where she stood in the doorway between the exam room and the waiting room. She stepped aside and held out an arm to usher him into the small room. 

“Thanks, Doc,” Peli said, “Send him back my way when you’re done, I’ve got his ship.” 

“Will do,” she replied, now understanding more about how Peli was able to manhandle such a large, broad person into her clinic.

The bell above the front door jingled as Peli left, leaving her alone with the Mandalorian. She would’ve been more uncomfortable if it weren’t for the numerous sharp instruments within her reach, as well as the hidden blaster strapped under the exam table. 

One couldn’t be too careful on Tatooine. 

The Mandalorian was looking around the small room, possibly assessing for threats until she cleared her throat, getting to work mode. 

“So I think we can just run a few tests and do a quick workup, nothing invasive. That should placate Peli, at least.” 

“Okay,” he said through the modulator, standing stiffly in the middle of the room as she busied herself with grabbing a holopad and passing it over to him.

“Fill this out,” she said quickly, busying herself with grabbing supplies for a blood draw and a retinal scan. 

“Um,” the voice said from behind her and she paused, turning toward her patient, “I, uh, I don’t know my birth date.” 

“That’s okay, just an approximate age is fine.” She went about her business, prepping a few vaccines and a bacta hypospray just in case while his gloved fingers tap-tapped on the holopad. When she was finished, she turned and leaned back against the counter and watched him as he finished. 

It didn’t take a doctor to note the obvious power of the Mandalorian’s body, half-bent over the holopad on the exam table. She scanned his posture, the way he held himself as he tapped with his right hand and noted a few things she wanted to mention. With how well-muscled he had to be under the heavy beskar, she figured he had a physically demanding job, and it was then she remembered Peli mentioning a bounty hunter friend of hers. 

He was silent as he finished and passed her the holopad. Under the ‘Name’ field he’d put simply, ‘Mando’ and she couldn’t help the smile that rose on her face. As a race, Mandalorians were notoriously secretive. 

Scanning the rest of the info sheet, she saw he mentioned back pain and bad knees as places of concern. Other than that, she didn’t see anything glaringly off. 

“Okay, this all looks about right for your estimated age, but I still want to take some blood and update your vaccinations,” she glanced at him from under her lashes and he grunted in what she assumed was assent. “Can you take your, um,” she gestured to the armor adorning his thick arms, not knowing what they were called, “arm pieces off? I’ll need to get in your veins there.” 

The Mandalorian hesitated, going eerily still. If she wasn’t mistaken, she thought she heard a sharp intake of breath through the modulator. Tension rose within the room, but she was well-trained so she turned her back to him to offer a little privacy and used the moment to sanitize her hands and pull on a pair of exam gloves, pleasantly satisfied when she heard the clanking of armor being shed and the heavy pieces being carefully placed on the table.

She turned back around and watched him rolling up the sleeves of his flight suit, exposing his  muscular arms up to his biceps and she had to remind herself that she was a professional — salivating over a patient was unethical. With a deep breath she went back into Doctor mode, assessing his arms for easy-to-access veins. 

A hiss sounded from him when she palpated his inner elbow and she looked up at his blank t-shaped visor. 

“Did that hurt?” she asked. 

The helmet shook, “Cold hands.” 

She smiled, “Sorry, should’ve warned you. Kind of ironic isn’t it?” 

“What do you mean?” 

“Considering it’s hotter than a Mustafarian volcano outside,” she explained, pressing further and finding a juicy vein. “Little pinch,” she said, using the prepped needle to pierce his golden-brown skin. If she wasn’t mistaken, she glimpsed the bottom edge of a tattoo hiding under his rolled-up sleeve. 

When the vial was full, she pulled the needle out and took some of the prepared bacta gel across the small hole in Mando’s skin, then put a small bandage over it. “That can come off in half an hour. Let me get this sample going so I can get your results before you leave, then we can do the retinal scan.” 

She moved toward the far side of the room toward her lab equipment, but a large hand on her wrist stopped her. 

“Retinal scan?” Mando asked, helmet tilted in concern. 

“Yeah, it’s really quick. Just to make sure your brain function is normal, no big deal,” she explained with a shrug. With how still he once again was, she guessed it was not, in fact, not a big deal to him. 

From what little she knew of Mandalorian culture, their armor and weapons were sacred to them but he’d already taken off his arm pieces. Maybe something about the helmet was different? 

“I…my Creed, uh, I can’t remove my helmet,” he said haltingly, removing his hand from her wrist. 

It was her turn to tilt her head in confusion, “What, like ever? How do you shower?” 

“I can take it off, but not in front of other living beings. If I did, I couldn’t put it back on.” 

“Oh,” she breathed. She nibbled on her lower lip as she tried to think of a solution. She didn’t want to let him leave without the scan but at the same time she couldn’t ask him to break his Creed for a fifteen-second scan. 

“Ah! Okay,” she exclaimed as an idea came to her. She grabbed the scanner off of its charger and put it on the exam table in front of him. “I’ll step out, you remove your helmet and run the scan yourself. It’s easy,” she said, sensing his hesitation, “Push this button here and hold the scanner in front of your eyes until it double beeps, about fifteen seconds, then you put your helmet back on and I’ll come back. Think that’ll work?” she asked, looking up at his visor hopefully. 

After a few seconds, he replied “Yeah. That’ll work.” 

Her smile widened and she nodded, “Let me get your blood tests going and then I’ll step out.” 

Din’s POV 

This was the exact reason he hadn’t been to a doctor since taking the Creed. Every Mandalorian covert had their own stash of medical supplies and were trained in first aid, so it never seemed important. He’d been cursing himself for mentioning his back pain to Peli until stepping into the Doctor’s office. 

The fact that she was holding his ship pretty much hostage until he went to the Doctor was only part of what got him here. 

To her credit, the Doctor had been respectful and considerate so far — her solution to his issue with the brain scan was simple, but spoke volumes to her character. Having only known her for a few minutes he could tell she was trustworthy, even though something in her eyes spoke of some hidden truths. 

Not wanting to keep her waiting in the other room for long, he double checked his surroundings before removing his helmet, pushing the button on the scanner that she’d shown him, and waiting for the ‘beep-beep’ to signal it had finished. 

He replaced his helmet and called her back into the room. She swept back in and smiled at him. 

“That didn’t hurt too much, did it?” she asked in a joking tone that made him smirk. She was cheeky, this doctor. 

“Virtually painless,” he said. 

“Good, wouldn’t want to completely scare you off,” she joked again but his breath caught in his throat. She placed the scanner on its charging port and looked at the screen in front of her, assessing the results with a furrow in her brow. 

Din took a moment to finally look at her. He’d already noticed how pretty she was, hair drawn back and up off her neck to combat the heat of the Tatooine suns. Her eyes were sharp and intelligent, and every time she’d looked his way he felt like she could see through the beskar he wore. Unknowingly, she’d already locked eyes with him a few times despite his helmet. While she looked over his results, she absentmindedly played with a necklace — some sort of pendant on a long silver chain — he didn’t see any more jewelry. 

“Well, your brain looks normal. No irregularities or past concussions showing up, but I guess that’s what the helmet is for,” she said, glancing his way. He nodded.”You mentioned some back pain, which is normal for your age, but I can take a look and maybe get you some pain supplements.” 

He nodded again and swept his cape aside, gathering it over one shoulder and exposing his jetpack. 

“Well,” she said with a chuckle, “that’ll do it.” She grabbed a different scanner while he took off his jetpack. His entire spine straightened as he felt her fingers ghost along his lower back. 

“May I?” she asked, and he swallowed hard, mouth suddenly dry. 

“Yes.”

She gently lifted the back of his flight shirt, the coldness of her fingers raising goosebumps along his arms. The scanner she held chirped, and she dropped his shirt back into place. 

“Just what I thought,” she said as he pulled the jetpack back on. “Looks like it’s muscular, not spinal, so I’ll throw some anti-inflammatory salve, and if you’d like, some pain supplement. A mild one,” she added.

“Thank you,” he said. 

She crossed to a cabinet, bending down to open it and Din averted his gaze. From inside she extracted a small tin and a glass jar, cursing when she found it empty. 

“Kriffing hell,” she muttered, “Sorry, looks like I’m out of the pain supplement. Outer Rim supply lines suck.” 

“That’s okay,” he offered, but she was insistent. 

“I feel bad now, getting your hopes up like that. I have something stronger but I figured with being a bounty hunter you’d want to keep your wits about you.” 

“I appreciate that. The salve will do fine for now.” 

“I mean, if you ever find yourself in a trading outpost or on Arvala-7, you could get some for yourself. I’ll write down the name.” She busied herself with that for a moment before another mechanical buzzing caught her attention. 

“Ah, your blood results!” Fluttering past, she slipped the piece of flimsi into his gloved hand. He caught a whiff of her scent — night-blooming flowers and citrus, with a tinge of sweat.

She pursed her lips, and Din wanted to reach over and pull the bottom one loose with his thumb. All her touches had awakened something in him that he usually kept locked away. “Hmm…looks like you’re a little low on Potassium and a few different vitamins, but no major illnesses or viruses, which is good. No malignant bacteria hiding in your bloodstream either, no parasites…damn, that beskar keeps everything out, doesn’t it?” 

She glanced his way, but kept on talking, “I’m still going to recommend a few vaccines, and a bit of a diet change. Let me guess, you mostly survive on ration packs?” 

He nodded, “I do.” 

“I’m going to suggest eating some more fruits in general, that’ll help with the vitamin deficiencies and the potassium. Ration packs are pretty nutritious, but with your lifestyle you burn through certain things quicker than others, so it’s best to supplement the packs. Just a few more hypos and you’ll be all set to go back to Peli with a clean bill of health. Any other questions or concerns?” 

Part of him wanted to ask if she was busy later that night, especially when they locked eyes under his helmet. His mouth went dry, and all he could manage was a shake of his head. 

He cleared his throat, “No, no. Thank you, Doctor.” 

“You are very welcome, Mando,” she said, handing him a small bag with papers and the salve inside. 

“Din,” he offered before he could think about it.

“Hmm?”

He cleared his throat again, “My name is Din.”

Her smile was radiant and Din felt a flutter in his chest. “Nice to meet you, Din. Whenever you need me, I’m here.” 

He reached out and shook her proffered hand. “I’ll be sure to take you up on that, Doc.”

[mrshipsmcgee]

How do you think Peter would propose? I'd feel like he'd go all out but would also be so nervous 🥺🥺🥺

Abby HEY! I love this… so so so much. And I love you so so so much ;)

Warning: mentions of booboos and stitches and love, ew!

- Peter Parker had bought a ring the day after your first date because he knew that there was no one else in the world that got him the way you did.

- He had told May about the ring after only two months into the two of you more than casually dating and May agreed on that fact that you two were seemingly made for one another. She had loved you from the very start. She knew it would be you that her Peter would spend the rest of his days with.

- Peter waited for a moment, a chance where he felt that the time was just beautiful enough - just magical enough to warrant a proposal to the person of his dreams. Even though he waited for the perfect moment, it didn’t come. Nothing felt right.. nothing felt quite good enough to ask you to marry him.

- And then one day the moment hit him.. not a by-the-book magical moment happened, but one moment filled to the brim with true love, full admiration.

- He sat bloodied in between your splayed legs as you stitch up his newest wounds. “Jesus, Pete,” you hiss, needle threading the twine between his split skin.

- he smirks, letting out a breathy chuckle as he watches you carefully tend to his wounds. “You take such good care of me,” he smiles as sweat drops down his forehead, his gut twisting into knots as he thinks of the ring in the drawer of his bedside table. He imagines how the rock would sparkle on your finger the next time you’d need to stitch him up.

- “Yeah,” you nod, “Maybe I take such good care of your dumbass because I love you - I dunno though.”

- He laughs - belly laughs, drawing your attention from the open wound to his honey eyes, “Well, I would have to say that I love you more.”

- You scoff, “No fucking way.”

- “Yes way!” He lets out a nervous giggle followed by a pained hiss.

- “Shit,” you reply, watching as his brows curve into a pained arch - “Don’t make yourself bleed more trying to say you love me more when you already know that I love you more.”

- Peter nods his head towards the beside table, nervously giggling through his pain, “That drawer says otherwise.”

- You open the drawer, a velvet box stared back at you. “Peter,” you choke, eyes darting back to his loving gaze.

- A goofy smile is plastered across his face as he bites his tongue, nodding toward the drawer, “Be a doll and hand me that box.”

- You oblige, sitting the box on his Spidersuit-covered thigh, not knowing whether or not to stare at Peter or the box.

- his glove covered finger opens the box, his eyes meet yours again.

- “Peter,” you whisper.

- “I’ve had this for a long time now,” he says plainly, eyes flickering as he licks his lips. “I’ve known since the first day that-that you and me were supposed to be together. I - I’ve wanted to do this for so long now that I don’t even know what to say.” He looks away, down towards the ring. “But what I do know is that I want to spend the rest of my life with you. I- I want to be the reason why you laugh.. and- and I want to take care of you.. start a life with you and start a family.. and grow old with you right beside me, calling me a dumbass and making fun of me until the day we die.”

- He holds the box in his hand, “Would you marry me?”

[factual-fantasy]

25 ASKS!! THANKS U GUYS!! 🤶

@elegysonnet (In response to this post)

Ok so to explain Lolbit, you'll need a little background--

In my sister location AU I was thinking that William uses the circus as a front to go from town to town killing kids. He takes the remnant of his victims and puts them in the animatronics. This remnant is making the animatronics more "human". Its giving them the ability to feel things like love, hate.. and fear..

Another detail is my animatronics do not move their face plates to appear more life like. The face plates are there for easy access to the endo skeleton and for easy make up changes and replacement. While the animatronic is in use, the faceplates are clamped shut. They are never meant to open them and are not supposed to see each other with them open.

This then leads us to Funtime Foxy. He went into a parts and service tent he wasn't supposed to go in.. and on a table he saw a set of purple and orange Foxy faceplates. But having been programmed to never remove the faceplates and having the remnant in his system.. he just.. couldn't understand what he saw.

It was his face.. but.. also not him? It had no eyes, no teeth, its jaw sat at a bizarre angle. It was.. horrifying. The remnant is really messing with Foxy's head after seeing that. He cant understand what he saw and is basically having "nightmares" about it. Seeing himself in the mirror as this "other Foxy" with missing eyes and a black mouth. With black sludge dripping from his eye sockets..

So "Lolbit" doesn't.. really exist..? Its more like a nightmare concept that Foxy created in his own head. And he just doesn't have the means to understand what he saw.

Yendo has a very similar story..

Oh yeah.. I'm aware.😔 Remember folks, all reposted artwork is stolen. All.

(Also thank you! I'm glad you liked my FNAF stuff! :}} )

AAA THANK YOU SO MUCH!! :DD As for the fusion idea, I love those names!! :DD And I was leaning towards it being a separate AU of sorts. Since the ability to fuse would change A LOT about my characters stories and personalities--

XD And don't worry, that was a good read! Though I believe I had already planned an encounter with King Boo.? Well, "encounter", they never saw him face to face--

I couldn't find the original post talking about this, but if I remember correctly..

Mario and Luigi had found the mansion on one of their adventures and went inside. In which the boos locked the doors and turned out all the lanterns. The boos then proceeded to play tricks on the bros and got them separated. I think King Boo was watching the other boos from the shadows..?

Now Mario had gone into one of the rooms and there was a fire flower in a plant pot. Mario grabbed the flower and created a fireball in his hands so he could see. Immediately after that the entire mansion went completely silent. The Boos were all stunned. Someone absorbing a power up was so foreign, so terrifying... so.. so impossible, that all the boos were immediately terrified of them.

All the lights leading to the front doors lit up and the doors swung open. Mario and Luigi followed the lights, reunited and left the mansion. As soon as they stepped out, the doors and windows all slammed shut. Basically saying "DO NOT COME BACK IN HERE-"

Then the bros went home! Shaken, but safe and sound <XDD

(Referencing this post)

XDD Not exactly, my sona comes in all shapes and sizes. I just drew myself looking more human/"put together" in that post because I was resting on the couch XDD

Plus its only 1 drawing! I tend to put a lot more details into the characters I draw if I'm only drawing them once. :0

@2006-stupid-thatsme (Referencing this post)

Oooo I've never heard of empanadas until now! They look delicious!! :DD

(Referencing this post)

"What's a stomach ache??"

XD Ah don't worry about her! Lucky for Cici, her and the gang cannot get stomach aches. Mostly becuase I've dealt with them enough to know that they are the worst things ever! And I would never wish stomach aches upon even my worst enemy. :')💔

Sooo since I have full control over this universe, I have decided that there will never be any consequences to eating food! They can eat as much as they want, whenever they want, however they want, and they will never suffer any ill effects! No stomach aches, no gas, no uncomfortable fullness, no weight gain- no mess?? Once Cici is done chowing down on that cake the frosting will suddenly vanish from her face and hands. Cuz who likes to clean up after eating??

So don't worry bout her, anyone in the factual fam could eat that entire cake and come out absolutely thriving XDD

..Lucky aren't they.. :/

Yes! Though its only really a moustache-

I pictured that they're basically just straight up tentacles and there's a set number of how many can grown out of his head at once.

He can grab things with them too! And I imagined that they can fully grow back if cut off and the longest they can grow is down to Octo's knees. Once they get that long they kind'a stop growing.

Though Octo has never grown them out that long before <XDD

WAAAATHANK YOIUUUU SO MUSHCHCH!!!!! 💖💖😭💖😭😭💖

@tmelvinborg31

I DIDN'T KNOW THEY COULD BE SO LARG??

@minnesotamedic186 (Post in question)

These past few weeks/months(??) have not been my best

"The Jar".. how can a name be so haunting and creepy yet so funny at the same time? XD

Thank you, <:} I'm sure that I'll peek into the fandom every now and again.. becuase I cant escape my love for Octonauts. But I'm rethinking how I'll approach the fandom next time around-

<XD What can I say, I'm a wizard ✨✨ Though some parts have been spoiled but that's my own fault tbh.

As for why I haven't watched it, its just really hard for me to switch gears for some reason. All I gotta do is sit down, and watch the movie. But my brain just cannot seem to do that, it makes it seem like its this huge task/activity that will be a drag to go through. Its really hard to explain.. I guess I'd much rather just sit in my room an draw and not interrupt the usual flow/pattern of my day-

(In response to this post)

:DD Thank you so much!! And yeah Luigi could probably use a hug or at least a friendly pat on the shoulder <XDD 💔

@whereismycupofcoffee

XDD Not just when I wanna draw. This is my mood like 75% of the time-

For ME??? THANK YOU!! :))))) 💖💖💖

@blade-liger-4ever

Its all ups and downs, not quite sure where I am rn but it don't feel great so it must be a down :(

I don't know much about those characters or the relationship they have.. but Blue and Seafoam have been compared to them in the past. They must be really similar! :0

OH! <:DD Whelp I guess they're not saying there long!!- <XD

@whateverdraws1008

Tucked away deeeep within my brain goo. Its a rarity that I have the motivation to return to that fandom :( the characters are just so hard to draw! 💔💔

@beryl-shade

Ooooo this is so clever!! :D I can totally see this being apart of the actual games too!

YOO I LOVE SURFACE PRESSURE!! :DD I'll have to look into the other songs too! :00

@beryl-shade

I cant remember much of Chef Saltbaker.. he's from the Cuphead DLC right? I imagine he's giant to them, maybe they'd be afraid? DD:

(Related to this post) (I cant find the ask post- but this is in response to someone saying "what about Cici?" And I commented that the mic simply wasn't offered to her-)

Bibi picks up an absolutely miniscule Cici and she squeaks out a tiny;

" ᴵ ᶜᵃⁿ ᵃᶜᶜᵒᵐᵖˡᶦˢʰ ᵃⁿʸᵗʰᶦⁿᵍ >:³ "

[baohanhanesel]

Valeria Garza x TF141 member Reader.

Summary: You interrogate her but you got a few screws loose. And Ghost is definitely judging you. Silently, but he is.

A valuable asset to your force, you were led in the interrogation room to take a look at your recent hostage. Your lieutenant told you she was a very tough nut to crack, that she was absolutely the most annoying one he ever got to deal with because he is not allowed to use proper violence.

You had laughed that time, telling him that surely you can hook some answers out of her. Why would you even need violence? That technique was for the dangerous hostages or the ones really unwilling to talk. ( And also Ghost liked that part of the interrogation the most.)

After you were in the room, you quickly understood what your lieutenant meant on the way here. You blinked, looking at the woman tied on the chair. Her smug and nonchalant expression shows she is no stranger to this situation. You glance at your commanding officer. "Sir?"

"I'll stay by the corner. Give it your best." He looked at the woman with his jaw clenched. You could notice that even with the mask.

The files had told you this woman was The El Sin Nombre. Valeria Garza. The boss of a cartel from Las Almas. Why was she here? You think it is because Alejandro trusted you with ripping information from her. ( And that he was infuriated with this woman. But you made a close guess at the time.)

You approached the woman, she looked at you, you looked back at her.

"Must be an awful day" You said, getting close to the chair she is sitting on.

You noticed her ziptied wrists and the burns around them. "Someone wasn't very comfortable?"

To your audacity, she just leans back on the chair. Tilting her head up and assessing you, up and down. You didn't look intimidating. You were supposed to make her talk? Someone must have been kidding with her.

"And who are you?"

"Chapped lips huh, they weren't so nice with you were they?" You cooed her, leaning closer to the chair and placing your feet to the corner of the chair. A swift move and she'd be down on the ground. It could have been a funny sight but you held your impulsive thoughts to yourself.

"Playing good police bad police, chiquita?" She was annoyed and you were smiling.

"That's a good sign, you like to talk. Most people only stare." You move to the table away from the chair, only ten or so steps. You glance at the items. A butterfly knife. It wouldn't cut deep, but it would cut enough to draw blood.

"Only a few hours," She said. "And I'll be out of here."

You didn't doubt that. But any damage you can land on her wit and will, you'd do it.

Ghost was in the corner of the room, in the shadows. You trusted him to have your back. You made your way to her with the butterfly knife in your hand. You smiled at her. She was more annoyed than anything but she matched your energy. Smirking back. Probably to intimidate you. You had seen all the tricks in the bag, nothing she could do would phase you.

You were an information specialist after all, and sometimes that called for... Unethical methods like this one. Such as participating in interrogations. This wasn't in your job qualifications but being with 141 you knew you had to improvise.

"You are right, you'll be out in no time. I do not doubt that." You brought the knife up on her chin and trailed it down her jaw. Your eyes squinted into a smile.

She didn't know what to make of it.

"A knife like that won't intimidate me." She sneered. And oh how her voice tingled, you kinda liked that!

You chuckled, you looked like you were enjoying this and you were. Much to her surprise, you were not acting like how she thought. You were not hesitant with that blade.

"I figured it won't." You beamed, and raised your knee on the chair in-between her legs to steady the chair while you lean your body weight on it.

She blinked, tilting her head away, but then you pulled the knife away and rested it on your palm. You dragged the knife on your palm and then sunk it in. Blood drew from your skin, and you placed the knife in your thigh holster, squeezing it there.

She looked at you with interest, why had you cut yourself?

You collected the blood on your two fingers and swiped it over her lips. She looked at you then back at your hands.

"What the hell do you think you are doing?!" She was startled because what the fuck?

You just smiled, and spread it on her lips further. You leaned down on her face while you kept the eye contact. "You owe me after all."

She looked at you, and scoffed. Your audacity made her laugh. "Owe you?"

"I didn't hurt you,"

"And what do you want in return? Fucking gratitude?" She didn't understand what you were getting at, and she can't lie it is making her uneasy. Which way she looks at you, she can't understand your actions. The blood on her lips? She is tempted to lick it but she refuses.

"A kiss would be great."

She widened her eyes, just as she was about to shout you leaned over her lips and whispered impossibly close to her. "I could have just cut you up and left you with a scar... Ruining your pretty face would be bad for business." Your eyes squint into a smile and the sight of it, Valeria has a hard time catching her breath.

"A kiss." she repeats. "Is this emotional torture?" She hates how curious she sounded. She was supposed to make it sound sarcastic not genuine but it somehow came out like that. Her eyes still looking into yours.

"Feels more like edging." You smirk. And that knocks the air out of her lungs. You are downright flirting with her. Filthy little shit you are, she is speechless.

You lean down on her bloody lips and then hold her chin with your bloodied hand, as you slowly glide it over her jawline and slowly down her throat. She swallows, and you can feel it under the heel of your palm.

"You'll be out soon, and you know we cannot kill you." You whisper these words, but you know she is not listening. She is looking at you but her chest is rising and falling faster than before. Her eyes are blown wide open. She is anticipating something. "Valeria Garza..." You try it on your tongue before wrapping your fingers around her neck. Staining her skin with your blood.

"You told me you wanted a kiss." She licked her lips, and couldn't stop until her lips were basically clean. The taste of iron in her mouth wasn't unpleasant. You couldn't help but laugh at her. She looked pathetic to you. Covered in your blood, chest unsteady. You were seducing her, catching her off guard. She was a pretty one, you found yourself smiling wider.

"I did. Are you grateful that I spared your beautiful face?"

Your words were a hit to her ego, as much as she would love to sit you back down and shout at you she was in no position to do that. You were a brat, she wanted to gut you for talking to her like that. But at the same time, she hoped you'd continue. She hated the complicated signals in her own damn head.

You wouldn't give her that kiss unless she was grateful. She knew the game and didn't want to play it.

"I am." She found herself saying instead. "I am grateful." A breathy whisper right down your core. So she could seduce too? You laughed and raised your hand away from her neck. Staining her lips with blood.

"That's right..." You pulled away from her, leaving her.

She couldn't process this. Wait why were you going away didn't she just play right at your hand like you wanted her to?

"See you soon probably, but I got what I wanted."

She stopped. And the alarms in her head started going off. Did she spill something without realizing? Surely she did not. Did you read between the lines? You couldn't have. She said nothing to you. You only flirted.

"Thanks for the go, Lieutenant." You told your superior, before grabbing the files with your clean hand.

He knew better than to question what he just saw. You weren't the most sane or the understandable person on earth. "Anything useful?"

"She'll come around." You paused. "Probably as soon as she is out she'll come for my head." You waved bye. Because woohoo you just got yourself in a dangerous zone.

Ghost didn't comment on it. He felt like you wanted it anyways, so he didn't interfere. He couldn't do much about it. Valeria would be out in a bit as she said, with political arrangements and such.

He groaned. Your work ethics were not sane nor safe. Who in their right mind tempts a criminal to seek you out? In your defense she was hot.

[seangelfish]

hi!! can i request romantic fluff of kaoru with a reader who likes to draw but is really shy about it? like they always hide their sketchbook when he goes up to them, but its bc they really likes to draw him when he isn't looking. tysm!! take your time and have a good day <3

Aww, this is actually a cute request because I absolutely love Kaoru and I could relate to the reader here too (as an artist myself)! I had to rewrite this twice because I didn't like my first draft lol but this version is definitely a lot better, so I hope you enjoy reading! ♡

Her sketchbook

Kaoru Hakaze x artist! Reader ♡ Genre/s: Fluff, mutual crush ♡ Word count: 1,423 ♡ Plot/summary: Kaoru always wonders what's inside that sketchbook of yours that you just won't show him. However, you vowed to never show this sketchbook to anybody especially Kaoru who you like so much.

During break, you would head off to the Yumenosaki Academy Garden where you would draw to your heart's desire. You usually drew the pretty flowers therce or the insects that visited them. Sometimes you'd draw the birds that would land on the table you were working on, also feeding them bits of your lunch. By time, that sketchbook of yours was covered in beautiful, colourful drawings of nature.

Kaoru, who had taken a liking to you, would always ask what you were up to. He'd always find you in the gardens smiling happily to yourself when you've finished a drawing. He liked seeing you like this when you're content and at peace.

“Hey, (Y/N)!” called out a voice.

You knew it was Kaoru, so you looked up at him and smiled. He's been visiting you a lot lately, and you always enjoyed his presence.

“Haha, you’re drawing again?” he asked happily. “Can I see?”

As you glanced down at the drawing you were working on, you gasped. This made him look down too, but you had already slammed your sketchbook shut.

But despite you liking him so much, you could never show him your sketchbook. EVER.

"(Y/N)?"

"It's not that good!" you cried. "I don't want you seeing it!"

"Huh? But–"

And in a blink of an eye, you were gone, leaving Kaoru stranded all alone in the gardens.

This same situation has happened countless of other times too. Whenever you'd see Kaoru appear from the hedges, you'd immediately hide your sketchbook on your lap. When you weren't in the gardens, but on the school's rooftop, and Kaoru was there helping out with the school's laundry, you'd hide your sketchbook behind your back. Even when he would visit you in the art department with Rei, your sketchbook was just no where to be found!

"She just doesn't want you looking," said Koga after Kaoru had finished telling the rest of UNDEAD his observation. "I wouldn't want you looking either."

Adonis agreed. "It's her personal sketchbook. She probably has stuff she just doesn't want to show you."

"I suppose..." Kaoru sighed. "But I would like to know what she's drawing..."

It wasn't as if you didn't show any of your drawings to Kaoru. You were happy to show him the pieces you were working on in class. Not only did he think you were beautiful, but the things you drew were beautiful too.

However, the way you presented yourself in class and the way you presented yourself outside in the gardens were completely different. He noticed how confident and poised you were whenever you're painting in class. You were focused, the brush between your fingers as you painted the canvas with delicacy. You were graceful with your strokes, careful with your movements. He loved watching you like this, and he loved it even more when you'd catch his eye from outside your classroom as you smiled at him.

But as he watched you smiling to yourself in the gardens, scribbling into your sketchbook with your face resting on your palm, he couldn't help but love you even more. You were truly content, giggling to yourself as you scribbled away. There was no need for you to act poised here, so you were able to be yourself, draw the things that you wanted to draw. Kaoru could see that clearly. He could see how the gardens' colours complimented your warmness, so he always wondered what things you were drawing that made you so happy like that.

The next day, he found you in the gardens again, as he always would. He could tell you had taken a break from drawing because you were now lost in thought, your hands cupping your cheeks as you stared at the sky.

“Haha, cute,” he muttered to himself.

He approached you slowly so he wouldn’t make a noise. You really were deep in thought because you hadn’t noticed him until he cupped his hands over your eyes.

“Guess who!”

You screamed, but once you knew it was Kaoru, you started to laugh.

"Oh, it's Rei, right?" you joked.

Kaoru chuckled, but a part of him didn't like your response. Was he jealous over you guessing wrong? You weren't even guessing properly and he knew of it, but it still annoyed him.

"Of course, it's you, Kaoru," you said as if you were reading his mind.

He had let you go at this point. You looked up at him with the brightest smile that he has ever seen you pull, but as he was looking down at you, he caught a glimpse at your opened sketchbook. You noticed this too, but this time, he was quicker than you.

He snatched your sketchbook from the table and began flipping through it.

“Kaoru, no!!!” you pleaded, gripping his blazer in order to stop him.

He wouldn't stop though. Eyes glued on the pages, he flipped through every single page of your sketchbook that you swore to yourself not to show anybody ESPECIALLY Kaoru.

The first few pages of your sketchbook were what he expected: drawings and sketches of the gardens. As usual, he thought they were beautiful. He could tell how much you loved this garden, and the feelings you have put into your drawings.

However, as he continued to flip the pages, his eyes widened.

"(Y/N), I..." he began, but trailed off.

Because what he was seeing in the next pages were no longer sketches of still life, but sketches of him. There were so many of them, ones of which were of him smiling and laughing, others of him looking confused or into the distance. There were even sketches of where he was preforming in his UNDEAD uniform.

When did you have time to draw these? He was with you most of the time, wasn't he? Does that mean that when he wasn't looking, you'd quickly sketch him?

By the time he reached the last page, his face was a deep shade of red.

"I didn't... expect that," he finally said.

You covered your eyes with your hands, head down on the table in complete embarrassment. All you wanted to do right now was to disappear off the planet. On the other hand, Kaoru couldn't stop smiling. He had to cup his hand over his mouth to stop himself.

“(Y/N), I didn’t know you felt that way about me,” he said shyly.

He always thought that his crush was one-sided, that you were just treating him like a friend. So now that he knew that the things you were drawing in the gardens that made you so happy were him, he couldn't contain his happiness.

He bent down a bit and clasped your shoulder, stroking it reassuringly. "(Y/N), please look at me." He spoke with such gentleness to you that you couldn't refuse his plea.

You lifted your head off the table and slowly looked at him. Your face was hot, cheeks glazed with tears.

"(Y/N)?! I'm sorry! I didn't mean to make you cry!" he exclaimed, feeling regretful of his actions.

"It's just... so embarrassing..." you sniffled. "I didn't want you finding out like this...!"

"Hey, hey," he said soothingly. "Please don't cry... it's okay... I love your drawings. You drew me so beautifully. I'm... actually really happy about it."

You could tell. Even when your vision was blurry due to the tears, you could tell how happy he was due to his big, radiant smile he had on his face. It made you want to cry even more.

You really did like him.

"I always wondered what you were drawing that you didn't want to show me," he began. "But to find out that it was me, I... I just can't help but love you even more than I ever have. (Y/N), you don't understand how much I adore you."

As he poured out his feelings for you, you couldn't help but cry even more. He wiped away your tears, bringing you into his embrace. You hesitated, but hugged him back, finding comfort in his big body.

Once you've calmed down, you looked at him again with a smile. He cupped your cheek which made you chuckle.

"I like you so much, Kaoru," you stated. "But I'm sure you already know that now. Am I... still allowed to draw you?"

"I will let you draw me as much as you like, just... don't run away from me, okay?" he replied with a soft laugh.

You nodded, taking his hand in yours.

"I promise not to do that anymore~"

Intro page | Ensemble Stars masterlist | Rules

[unholy-reids]

Don't Give Up On Me.

Summary: Hotch is late again, and you've had enough, He properly reminds you why you should stay. [Pairing: Fem!ReaderxAaron Hotchner] Warning: 18+ Smut, Cursing, Fluff. WC: 2.5k

A/N: This was inspired by a prompt I found by @criminalmindswriting thanks so much for the inspo! <3 Also I apologize if I butcher Hotch, this is my first time writing him to the best of my ability. Enjoy!

You sighed, looking at your watch, it was two in the morning. You’d been waiting all evening, planning for tonight, making things right around the house, you even cooked his favorite dinner, set aside his favorite robe and the DVD player had his favorite movie on standby, it was supposed to be just the two of you, but again, his wife—the BAU hauled him off as if he was the Captain America of the world. You always understood his job, you knew what Quantico meant to him, and the degree of importance he held for his position as senior chief, what you didn’t understand was how other staff came home at a decent hour, Rossi was home with his French diplomat, JJ was home with Will and her boys, Derek was home with Savannah, Reid was home with his books and Garcia was probably devouring the interwebs,  yet Aaron had to be the last to leave a case.

Staring out your window you watched the rain draw droplet patterns against the glass, glancing at the empty driveway with just your car you knit your brows together his SUV should be there too, you should be enjoying the orgasms Aaron were to give you had he come home on time, letting the curtain go and hugging yourself, you remembered how much you loved fall in Virginia, the fluffy cardigan Aaron had gotten for you on your birthday, wrapped around you like the hugs he used to give you in the mornings, fall nowadays felt like winter due to Hotch’s absence, you headed to your room and left the dinner covered on the table, not before snuffing out the candles you so carefully picked out, how could he have forgotten—yet again? 

You knew what you signed up for, but this was just ridiculous, a tear left your eye without warning, swiping it away you laid in bed, curling up into yourself, the silence inside the house was deafening, pretty soon that single tear turned into a full crying fest, you hugged your pillow to drown out the screams you were placing in it, your thoughts weren’t any better, the desire to have normal worries about the man you loved was strong, you’d rather know he was at a bar with friends, instead of taking on caseload after caseload that further drifted him from you, tonight was a chance to bring you together after months of seeing him leave, after days of him bringing the work home with him, and waking up to him gone to yet another case, the thought of having an agent at your door at any moment, to inform you that the love of your life had died in the line of duty instead of being stuck in traffic was heavy on your chest. Normal shit.

Your tears and screams subsided, and you managed to calm the anxiety attack that was threatening to knock at your door, you’d finally decided it was enough, wiping your face from the rest of your tears you packed a bag to leave for the night, you didn’t care where, Aaron Hotchner’s face was the last thing you wanted to see tonight, not after this, making your way to the kitchen to make yourself some tea, being that it always calmed you down, that’s when you heard the locks click open, the alarm being disabled and enabled again, and you saw the lights from the foyer come on, you were familiar with the thud his briefcase made when he left it on the floor beside his shoes, and you recognized the sigh, Aaron always let go of once he realized he was home with you, the way your heart thumped in your chest was undeniable, the way you loved this man was unreal, it was hard not to run into his arms and forgive him for absolutely everything. 

“Fuck,” You heard him mutter—he’d seen the table setup, and his keys clinked next to the empty wine glasses, his footsteps slowly made it into the kitchen where you stood with your favorite mug in hand, once he laid eyes on you his eyes closed in shame and hurt. “Honey, I’m sorry,” He came toward you but you raised your hand, taking it off the mug. “Aaron, don’t…” You stopped him, drinking your tea and slipping past him into the living room, the rain picked up, now sending crazy loud patterns against the glass windows, the living room was dim. 

“I should’ve called,” You heard him say softly from the kitchen as his steps were right behind you, “You should’ve called, but you didn’t, you could’ve… But you never do Aaron.” He looked down at you, his height towering over your small frame. “I’m sorry doesn’t cut it anymore, I can’t do this.” Your voice broke, and he held you finally, taking the mug from your hands and setting it down on the coffee table. “My job isn’t the most accommodating—” You cut him off before he continued. “No Hotch, you don’t accommodate me around your job, there’s a difference, I bet your entire team is home, while you stay behind looking for God knows what! Who are you trying to save?” The tears started to fall and Aaron’s face was filled with hurt. “Y/n…” He couldn’t bare to see you cry, it broke him worse than any case he’d tackled before. “I’m trying to make the world a better place, and that includes you, y/n…” 

Your shoulders dropped, you felt defeated, yet not surprised that this was perfectly rational for him. “The world can’t be a better place, when the man I love is never here,” you tightened your lips and shook your head, this was too much, the room was spinning. “And I’m sorry I’m never here, but you knew how it was going to be, why did you think it would change?” His tone was stern, he was still very much in section chief mode, this hurt even more. “You know what Aaron, you’re right, I should’ve known this was who you are and that this was never going to change, I just wish you would’ve kept me as the woman you fucked, instead of the woman you’re now engaged to,” Sliding off your ring you dropped it on the coffee table, storming back to the bag you’d already packed. “I’ll be back for the rest of my stuff, I wish you and the BAU eternal happiness.” The last thing you saw as you grabbed your keys was Aaron with his hand on his waist, and a surprised look on his face, pressing the alarm on your car you threw the bag in the back seat, you were dripping wet in seconds, and just as you unlocked your door to step inside strong hands grabbed your arm, the same arms turned you around to face him, his hair sopped as he looked down at you. 

“Don’t you give up on me now; we’ve come too far and I love you way too much to lose you now.” You tried to give your best rebuttal, but his lips crashed onto yours and you knew you were done for, pretty soon, your legs were around his waist and he closed the door to your car taking you back inside, sure, you were both dripping wet and the wooden floors would pay the price, but you didn’t care, once inside the house, Aaron slammed you gently against the wall, his large hands touching everything, the sounds of wet clothing dropping on the floor, his soft groans and your heaving breath invaded the foyer. “Room, room.” You instructed, but Aaron didn’t listen. “Not tonight honey,” He ripped you away from the wall, you were both down to your underwear, his magical fingers undid your bra single-handedly, something you always found impressive as men never knew how to work a bra.

Cupping your right breast, and using his thumb and index finger to pinch your nipples slightly rolling said fingers back and forth, his mouth left yours, attacking the free breast, biting, sucking and licking your nipple until you moaned out loud, it made him smile mischievously while your nipple was in his mouth, letting it go with a soft pop, his hands tangled on the waistline of your panties, he maintained eye contact as he lowered them slightly and leaving you halfway exposed to him. Looking down at him you realized his eyes never left you, in fact it seemed he was worshipping you, your body heat, your shaky breath whenever he touched one of your spots. 

Hooking his finger around your panties but he didn’t take them off yet, instead he kissed your mound, again in the same worshipping fashion, taking in your scent he finally made the thin fabric drop, his hands sliding up your body, between your breasts, without a second thought his index and middle finger were in your mouth, once you suckled enough, Aaron brought them back down and spread your folds, a slight breath of satisfaction left him when he saw how wet you already were for him, keeping his eyes on you he licked a flat strip up your slit, the taste of you driving him to spread your legs wider, hooking his arms around your legs so you didn’t get a chance to slip away, instead he pulled you closer to his mouth causing you to moan his name out loud. “Mhmm.” He moaned as he flicked his tongue on your clit, sucking it delicately, until your orgasm made your back arch up off the couch, kneeling before you and making sure you were now dripping for him, Aaron slid himself inside you, teasing with just the tip, when you closed your eyes he almost growled. “Keep your eyes on me baby.” 

He felt so good, it was so difficult to let your eyes stay open, but the tease in him would pull out his cock just enough whenever you did close your eyes, the smile of satisfaction knowing he was pushing you over the edge really got him off, the last time you closed your eyes, he allowed himself inside you with his full length, his thickness stretching you out. “Aaron, fuck oh my go—” Was all you managed to spit out as he began to dig for your G-spot, his hips moving sensually, he rested his weight on you, hugging you tightly as he made love to and ravished your body at the same time, both your moans and his grunts filled the living room, nothing else mattered, no unsubs, no phone calls, just you and Aaron, making love as the rainstorm outside continued. 

Wrapping your legs around him to keep him there, a small action that made him chuckle. “You don’t want me pulling it out do you?” You shook your head no, grabbing his face and kissing him passionately as your body received the pleasure of having him inside you. “Come for me, y/n.” He orders, knowing you’re close, the pleasure is so intense you can’t utter a single word, only moaning and “Right there’s” fill the room, his experienced hand finds its way to your clit, where he starts rubbing and slamming into you at the same time. “You’re so wet for me, y/n, now I need you to come for me, can you do that baby?”  His voice is like honey, as his hands circle your clit, getting you closer. “Oh my God, yes, yes, yes, I’m coming!” Your yeses fire in rapid succession as Hotch’s hips pick up speed as well as the fingers on your clit, he can feel your pussy clenching around his cock, and the perfectly shaped O your mouth is currently in lets him know you’re there, right over the edge, making him want to go over with you, “Fuck, y/n I’m coming!” He groaned, filling you up with his warm cum, and that was just the first round, despite the mess you both left on the couch, Aaron carried you to the bedroom, where round two ensued. 

It was now daybreak and Aaron was already up, he’d made coffee and picked up the wet clothing from the floor setting them in the laundry, thankful that the wooden floors were intact, he was now standing in the doorway, admiring your naked form under the blankets, he hadn’t watched you sleep this peacefully in months it would’ve been a sin to wake you, but his phone rang and he quickly ran to find it before you woke up, he took the call in the kitchen, the team was in desperate need of his help, Aaron traveled back to the room ensuring you were asleep, while Spencer quickly briefed him on the current sick bastard the team was hunting down. “From what I understand, if you’re trying to get anything out of him, you have to praise him, he’s the dominant and thinks he deserves it.” You heard him say on the phone, “I have to go, y/n needs me more than you guys do, you’ll survive a couple of cases without me, if the going gets too tough just push it to Strauss, I’m sure she’ll be thrilled to go into the field.

“A couple of cases?” You asked causing him to turn around and take you in as you were wrapped in the sheets. “Were you eavesdropping on my conversation?” He came closer to you, tugging your head back gently and placing a tender kiss on your lips, your hands reached out to grab his mug instead. “After last night you don’t need caffeine, you need to hydrate…” He looked at you, placing another kiss on your lips and replacing his mug with a fresh bottle of water. “And yes, I said a couple of cases, I’m staying home with you for a few weeks, I have to make up for upsetting you, the vacation will come in handy, we can go anywhere you want, y/n.” His eyes softened as he grabbed your engagement ring and placed it back where it belonged. “I believe this is yours, don’t ever take it off again.” With a nod you looked down at the simple yet sophisticated ring on your finger as you looked back up at him. “I love you.”  You muttered, but he heard it clearly, pressing a kiss to your forehead, he left you standing in the kitchen, you watched him put away his briefcase, and shutting off his phone, the surprise on your face made him give you another kiss, he grabbed his laptop. “Now what was that Airbnb in Maine you wanted to go to last month?” He asked as you excitedly sat next to him on the couch still wrapped up in the sheets.

The words he said yesterday rang in your head and you looked at Aaron, as he enthusiastically typed in the name of the getaway you planned a month ago, he remembered…  Your serious, sweet, no nonsense Aaron, made you remember why he was the love of your life…

“Don’t you give up on me now; we’ve come too far and I love you way too much to lose you now.” 

[blueicequeen19]

Sweet Like Candy Pt. 2

Warnings: drug use, partying, dry humping, no fucking yet

After that night on the beach, JJ Maybank is everywhere. All over town. The beach. Whatever party there is. And there’s parties every night. I quickly learn that is my soon-to-be husbands thing. Rafe barely glances at me half the time but he tells everyone to stay away from me.

Meanwhile I’m watching from an upstairs balcony as JJ does the cha-cha slide with a group of girls. They adore him and fawn over him but he plays it off, winking occasionally at me. I shake my head at him as I try to hide my smile while trying not to watch his trusting dance moves.

“He’s cute, isn’t he?” I jump at the sound of Sarah’s voice and she settles in next to me, leaning against the railing. I advert my gaze from JJ and glance back over my shoulder where Rafe snorts more drugs off the coffee table.

“I’m not going to say anything. My brother and I aren’t close.” Sarah says softly, drawing my attention back to JJ. The song has changed to another dance one and I’m not surprised JJ knows that one too.

“He’s.. different.” I finally mumble. Sarah smiles softly, knowing which guy I’m talking about.

“He’s also super persistent.” Sarah laughs, shaking her head as JJ motions for us to come and dance.

“I think it’s better if I stay away from him.” I murmur, giving Sarah a pleading look. I didn’t trust myself around him. He made me want things. I couldn’t think straight and his presence was intoxicating.

Sarah is silent for a moment before glancing at Rafe, making sure the coast is clear.

“You’re not married yet. Come on.” Sarah takes my hand and leads me downstairs without a second glance. She was right. I had three more days before I became Mrs Rafe Cameron.

The rest of the night is spent sipping different alcohols to see what I like and learning how to do all these horrible, repetitive dances. I’ve never laughed so much. It’s the first time I’ve felt free. The first moment of control I’ve had over my own life. I’m not ready to give it up just yet. So when JJ disappears for a moment through a door in the hallway, I follow.

I open the door just as he exhales a cloud of smoke into the air and I quickly slip inside, earning a grin from him as I shut the door to what I now know is a laundry room.

“Sorry,” He says, waving off the smoke, “for my nerves.”

“Are you nervous?” I tease, watching as he brings the joint to his lips and inhales deeply for a few seconds before exhaling into the air.

“Very.” JJ offers it to me and I shake my head.

“I’ve never smoked before.” I whisper and he nods.

“Do you trust me?” He asks, moving so he’s in front of me. I try to swallow as I nod.

“Exhale through your nose.”

“Huh?”

JJ takes a long hit before he gently cups my face and presses his lips to mine, blowing the smoke inside. I draw in a deep breath, keeping my lips pressed to his then exhaling through my nose. I feel him smile against my lips before pulling away, satisfied with himself.

“You-you just kissed me.” I whisper, touching my lips.

“I did.”

“That was my first kiss. I was supposed to give that to Rafe.” I sink against the door when his eyes darken, moving his body closer to mine.

“You’re not married yet.” JJ grumbles, cupping the back of my neck and tilting my head up so he can kiss me again. I don’t mean to but I can’t help but moan into his mouth, fisting his shirt as I reach up on my toes to kiss him back. My body was pulsing and there was a roaring in my ears. My heart was racing and I couldn’t stop.

“Rafe is not a good guy. He doesn’t deserve you.” JJ pulls away for a moment before kissing me again, his tongue sliding into my mouth and making my knees weak.

“We shouldn’t be doing this.” I whisper, sinking my teeth into his bottom lip and he moans loudly, pushing me into the door.

“For a girl who’s never been kissed, you sure know how to drive me insane.” JJ growls, grabbing the backs of my thighs and hoisting me up. I squeal as he walks over and sits me on the dryer, his hands on the tops of my thighs, barely tearing his mouth from mine.

“Tell me something.” JJ rasps, his fingers digging into my skin.

“You’re a good dancer.” I blurt, earning a deep laugh from him.

“Something about you.” JJ grins between kisses.

“I like kissing you.” My voice is low and he hums in approval, running his tongue over my bottom lip.

“I like kissing you too.” JJ moves his mouth to my neck, pressing himself harder between my legs and I moan, needing more of the friction.

“God, it hurts.” I whine, cupping myself over my shorts to try and relief the ache.

“You’re turned on.” JJ murmurs, covering my hand with his and pressing down hard. I whimper, rolling my hips in search of more. I can’t help it. I needed more. He continues to rub me with our hands, kissing from my neck to my lips.

“I’m going to rub you with something else, okay?” JJ rasps, meeting my eyes for a moment and I nod. He takes away our hands and pulls me to the edge of the dryer, pressing his groin against mine. I gasp over how hard he is. I could feel every ridge of his erection.

“Is that better?” He whispers, thrusting against me with one hand on my ass to hold me in place. I grip his shirt, rolling my hips to meet his.

“Yes.” I crush my mouth to his, desperate for more. I wanted more of this. This feeling. This high.

“Cum for me. Let me have it.” JJ growls. A dam suddenly breaks and I cry out, burying my face in his neck as my body shakes. I feel tingles down to my toes and up my spine as I fight to remain quiet.

“Good girl.” JJ whispers as he pulls away, kissing me and halting his movements between my thighs. I was suddenly so tired.

“If Rafe is as bad as you say.. I don’t want him to be my first. He doesn’t deserve it.” I say softly, locking eyes with him so he gets my meaning. JJ swallows, squeezing my thighs for a moment.

“Y/N—.”

“Hey, Y/N—!” The door flies open and Sarah emerges. I quickly push JJ away but Sarah’s already seen us. She scowls as she shuts the door behind her and crosses her arms.

“I told you to stay away from her, J. Just be her friend.” Sarah scolds and he rolls his eyes, sitting me down on my feet. I’m at a loss for words.

Embarrassed was an understatement. I just asked him to take my virginity. In a laundry room at a party.

“Relax. She’s an adult.” JJ says, moving away from me and towards the door. My heart breaks, like I’m getting dismissed by him.

“She’s my brothers. You can’t fuck her.” Sarah snaps, glaring up at him as she moves away from the door. JJ locks eyes with her as they stare off.

“If she asks me to fuck her, I will. You all might be okay with this arranged marriage bullshit but I’m not. Mind your own business, Sarah.”

He casts me one final look before letting the door slam shut behind him. My buzz was definitely gone and the tears started to fall.

[3d-wifey]

And They'd Find Us In A Week - Chapter 6

Pairing: Finnick Odair x Reader Word Count: 5k Synopsis: Here! Playlist: Listen up! A/N: I went with the chariot outfit from the books. If there's ever any confusion about something being described that doesn't match the movies, it's because I mixed it with the books :))))))) I feel like this chapter really hammers home the fact that Hozier inspired this fic. And while I have your attention, Finnick says the word too instead of to later on in this chapter because he means also. Just for those of you who don't know the different meanings of the word.

Past (vi) - Finnick

[18 & 19] -  THE CAPITOL; TRAINING CENTER; ELEVENTH FLOOR

You and Finnick are sitting side by side when they flood the arena.

An earthquake breaks the dam open, and the tributes closest to it die almost instantly, the crushing weight of the water pressure either breaking their necks or knocking them out before they drown. Multiple canons fire one after the other. If Finnick counted correctly, only six tributes are left—five of which aren't from districts with large bodies of water. It’ll only be a matter of time before they tire out. 

He's not hoping that the other kids die, but he is hoping that Annie makes it. She's a sweet girl, and she actually took his advice to heart, unlike his other tributes, who usually didn't take him seriously because of his age. 

He feels a smaller hand slip into his and he doesn’t have to look down to know it's yours. Your tributes had died in the cornucopia and it’s been ten days since then. You had no reason to stay behind. But you did. For him.

You squeeze his hand. He squeezes back.

Once the waters have calmed and the rest of the tributes strive to stay afloat, Annie does the smart thing and moves to float on her back. 

Of course, in a test of endurance, she's the strongest swimmer in the arena. In District Four, kids learn how to backstroke before they can walk. However, there’s no telling how long they’ll be in the water, and trying to tread it will only drain what little stamina she has left.

It takes three hours for three of the tributes to die and five for Finnick to have his first victor.

Socialites and mentors alike surround you and Finnick to congratulate him as they airlift Annie out of the arena. Augustus claps him on the shoulder, and Gloss shakes his hand. But the only hand he cares about slips out of his when four different people try to rope him into a conversation at once, your bracelet catching against his.

You say nothing to him as you edge out of the crowd, and he supposes you don’t owe him an explanation, but it leaves a pit in his stomach to watch you walk away.

When he comes to the Eleventh floor later that night, Chaff is the one who greets him when the elevator opens, presumably heading out himself. Something he should have expected since you aren’t the only one who lives on the floor, but he’s still taken by surprise.

“Oh. Hey?” It comes out as more of a question than a statement, the letters curling and drawing out at the end like he’s just discovered the human language.

“You’re acting like I’m not the face you wanted to see.” Chaff crosses his arms with a beaming grin that spells trouble for Finnick. “What? Am I not pretty enough, Odair?” 

“No, you’re plenty beautiful, Chaff,” he laughs, “I was just expecting Star.”

“Yeah, alright. Go ahead.” He steps aside, and Finnick feels like he got caught sneaking into his girlfriend's room. Which isn’t too far off. “I’m sure you know where her room is.” He decides to pointedly ignore that last comment.

He spots Seeder dishing out playing cards and Haymitch drinking at the dining table, and he just knows this will spread like wildfire among the victors. Despite being grown men, Chaff and Haymitch are the biggest gossips he knows.

“Ah, there’s the blushing bride!” Haymitch half shouts—half cackles, halfway into a bottle of expensive Capitol wine. He ignores them, which only makes them crack up harder. Finnick is nineteen years old, and as they laugh behind him, he actually feels his age for once.

He’s come to your floor for the past two years. So when your door slides open, you only look slightly surprised to see him. 

“Finnick,” you look over his shoulder like you expected him to bring someone with him. “I didn’t think you’d come. I thought you’d be spending time with Annie.” You venture tiredly.

“I spoke to her after they got her into medic, but not for long.”

After Talon, his other tribute, was decapitated in front of her, something happened. Something broke. She cried uncontrollably and screamed when the nurses tried to take her vitals. He was able to help calm her down enough for them to sedate her, but Finnick knows that isn’t going to be an easy fix. No victor comes out of their games the same as when they entered.

You take a step back from him. He didn’t even notice when he got so close and gravitated to you; he never does.

“Well. Thanks for letting me know, I guess. You can go now.”

He stands there, mouth opening and closing.

“Go..." he blinks, furrows his brows, and then blinks again. "I can go—are you mad at me?” He asks incredulously.

"No!" You deny it like the idea of being mad at him never even crossed your mind, yet he can't help but feel like he’s upset you somehow. 

"Are you...sad at me?" You hesitate at that, and his heart sinks. You sigh, and for a second, he worries you’re going to send him away.

"C’mon." You wave him into your room. “I’d rather not have an audience for this.” He glances over his shoulder and spots the three adults in the room clearly eavesdropping as they pretend to play cards at the table.

“Leave the door cracked!” You flip off the cackling trio, herding Finnick into your room, and you barely get the door closed before he’s apologizing.

“I don’t know what I did, Star, but I’m sorry, okay? And—and whatever it is, sweetheart, I swear I won’t do it again.” He pleads, feeling just as desperate as he probably sounds. He’s trailing pretty close after you through the hallway that curves into your bedroom, so he almost bumps into you when suddenly you stop in front of him.

“Finnick, calm down, okay? You didn’t do anything.” You claim, but if that’s true, then—

“I don’t understand. Wh–what’s wrong?” Because there’s definitely something wrong. Your body language is closed off. You’re never closed off around him.

You cross your arms, then drop them and place your hands on your hips. 

“Annie.” You mutter, staring over his shoulder.

“...Annie?” He repeats, eyebrows furrowing.

“Yeah.” You speak muffled, biting at the nail of your thumb. “I’ve been thinking and I can only imagine how exciting it is for you to have someone your age in Four who’s gone through the same things as you. You guys have much more in common, I’m sure. Not to mention you can see each other whenever you want. So, I won’t fault you for, I don’t know, spending less time with me. Or, if you forget to respond to a letter or…something.” You finish off your rambling in a mumble, losing steam.

He blinks at you.

“And why would I do that?” He asks, and you throw your arms up in frustration, walking further into the room to crash down into a forest green armchair. What is he doing wrong?

“Because we don’t see each other outside of the Capitol.” You avoid making eye contact and pick at the skin around your nails instead of biting them, a habit he thought you grew out of. “And I’m fine with that, but that doesn’t mean you have to be. You don’t have to settle for...this.” You wave a vague hand around, either referring to your room, yourself, or your relationship. All of which Finnick finds unacceptable for you to put down. 

“Do you feel like you’re settling?” He asks, doing, in his opinion, a pretty good job of acting like his heart isn’t hinging on your answer.

“What? Of course not.” You look at him like he grew a second head. As if his question isn't completely reasonable given how you're behaving. “But, we just... We have such little time together.”

“Yeah, and that makes the time we do get to spend together special.” He argues. Finnick tracks your movements, coming to stand before you. You clench your fists together before hiding them by folding your arms. “What is this really about?”

You take a breath.

"Finnick, we can never be together outside of this city.” You laugh, hollow and brittle. Beautiful. “With Annie in the picture, you can have something close to normal. You’ve earned that much.” He takes a second to look you over. Finnick has always been able to pick things up through body language. A skill he developed after Mags lost the ability to speak, and even that took him years to perfect. With you, someone who is practically mute when it comes to your emotions, it was almost instantaneous. He can read you like a well-loved book.

"Will you look at me?" He ducks his head down to get you to look at him, but you're being especially avoidant. 

"I’m sorry, it's really not that serious." You mumble, stubbornly keeping your eyes on the ground, "You don't need to—” He places his hand on the back of your neck, bending over to touch his forehead to yours. 

"There you are." He smiles when you finally look up at him. He holds you tighter, free hand sliding down to your waist and his neck straining at the position. "I'm not gonna leave you behind for Annie, okay—I would never leave you behind. For anyone." And he would appreciate you not taking that choice from him. There's already so little he has control over in his life, and, knowing you, it wouldn't be a reach for you to cut him off without explanation if you thought it was for his benefit. 

"Why?" You ask barely above a whisper, confusion so genuine that it nearly breaks his heart. As if you can't wrap your head around Finnick wanting to stay with you, choosing you. He’s failed you somewhere along the way if that’s the case.

He takes a different approach, dropping down to one knee on the cold brown marble floor and then the other until he’s kneeling between your legs, giving his neck a break. The big green chair becomes the backdrop behind you, and it really is an enormous chair.

“Finnick,” you laugh, as dulcet as a melody. “What are you doing?” 

“I don’t want normal. I want you. That’s all I ever wanted.” He grins up at you, wrapping his arms around your stomach. "I'll stop needing air before I stop needing you.” He could spend the rest of his life being the most altruistic bastard in Panem and still not deserve you.

You loop your arms around his neck, fingers carding through the back of his hair. He leans into the warmth of your hand and wonders if there will ever be a moment better than this. There’s always been a level of affection between the two of you that's a little too intimate to call friendship, but Finnick’s grown so accustomed to it that he'd feel unsettled without it.

You lean closer to him, practically sitting on the edge of your seat. "Can I…” You hesitate. “Can I try something?" You ask and he agrees like he always will. He can deny you nothing. 

You move one hand to his cheek. The other grips his shirt as you lean toward him. He holds still—barely breathing, afraid that any sudden movement will make you lose your nerve. 

You run cold, you always have, it’s just another thing to love as far as Finnick is concerned. He himself emits heat like a furnace on the best of days.

He remembers cold hands touching his heated skin, cold toes shocking the skin of his legs whenever you lay together. But now, now Finnick feels nothing but a hissing heat as your mouths press together. Heat like a hot knife cutting into a block of ice, like a blazing star consuming him in a ball of fire, only to sizzle into a warm embrace. He melts into you, trusting that you’ll sculpt him back together with your glacial grip.

And you will, won’t you? Take him into your arms and mold him into whatever shape he needs to be to fit inside your heart. He’s had no experience with that sort of thing. He’s never had to, his heart automatically made room for you without any input on his part. There’s a perfect you-shaped hole in his chest, and you’ve already slotted into place. When you hold him like this, kiss him like this, he can believe it. Believe that maybe, maybe this is something you’ve been hoping for too—that you aren't only doing this because it's what you think he wants and that he hasn’t been alone in his longing.

Your lips are soft, softer than he imagined. You’re softer than he imagined. It’s more of a peck than anything else, but it means everything to Finnick. You stop to take a breath, and he moves to follow you as you pull away. He doesn't open his eyes for a second. If it never happens again, if he never has the chance to kiss you again, he wants to commit this moment to memory. Every detail, down to the puff of air against his lips before you leaned in.

Finnick is well aware of the effect he has on people; he’s had five years to come to terms with it. But he’s never been on the receiving end of it before. It’s all new to him—new and utterly terrifying. Terrifying and utterly beautiful because it’s you. It's always been you, and it’ll keep being you even if this ends here.

"What was that?" he asks, just in case he’s reading this wrong and you aren’t looking at the kiss the way he is, in case you’re not looking at him like he looks at you.

"...I don't know." You whisper like it’s a secret shared between you two.

"Okay," he exhales between you. He can work with that. Finnick shakes his head. “I don’t need more than that.” He smiles. He’ll give himself to you in whatever capacity you’ll have him, as long as you’ll have him. He doesn’t have the right to ask for more.

“I think,” you start, dazed, and he can’t tamp down the smug satisfaction bubbling up because he did that to you, “I've wanted to do that for a long time." 

He considers it. He's wanted to kiss you since that first night under the stars. When you allowed yourself to be vulnerable—sharing a piece of yourself with him—and you looked at him with a smile that was more genuine than he deserved, too good to be aimed at someone like him. “So why haven’t you?” 

You sway into him like you can’t help yourself, and he gets the feeling. You rest your forehead on his shoulder.

“I…I’ve never had anything I've wanted before—I’ve never taken it, but,” you burrow your face into his neck, and he can feel your lashes fluttering against his skin as you squeeze your eyes shut, and he doesn't like that. He doesn't like not having your gaze on him. When did that happen? Under his nose, he's become so needy for your attention, so needy for you. There should certainly be some shame there. “But I want this more than I’ve wanted anything, Finnick. I want you.”

“Then take me. Have me." He begs into the crown of your hair, sounding so desperate he’s surprised you haven’t run the other way. But, honestly, he isn’t sure he wouldn’t chase after you. He's been yours in everything but name for years at this point. It’s just one more leap, one more line to cross together because Finnick wants too. He wants and wants and wants. He wants to be yours.

"It's selfish. To want this much, right?" You pull him closer to you, and he goes. He can't imagine doing anything else. You nose at his jaw, and he shivers at the brush of smooth lips and warm breath on the sensitive skin of his neck. He moves his head to the side to give you more room. "It has to be."

"I like you selfish." If this is you selfish, he wants you greedy; he wants you heedless. He wants your want. He closes his eyes, every other sense focused on you. He holds you closer. “I know it’s hard to love me—” 

“Don’t say that. Don’t think my hesitation has anything to do with who you are. It’s just…” You pull back far enough to look up at him, your eyes darting back and forth between his, and he thinks he understands what you’re asking for. 

You’re scared, so you want him to make the choice. You want it to be his decision. He’s scared, too, so he understands. He’ll take the plunge and bear the brunt of the fall. There’s not much he can protect you from, but he can do this. He can protect you from himself.

This time, he's the one who leans in, and you meet him halfway. On instinct, he goes to grab your waist and stops himself. Instead, he grabs the hand gripping his shirt, lacing your fingers with his. 

Finnick's never prayed for anything; he doesn't even believe in a higher power. Yet, selfishly, he begs. Let this be real. Let him keep this one thing. 

Let him keep you. 

Present (VI) - You

[23 & 24 ] - THE CAPITOL; CHARIOT RIDES

You stand alone in the elevator, skin bristling with the phantom feeling of scrubbing. If your prep team had scrubbed any harder, you're sure your skin would have come off. You rub at the now smooth skin of your face, trying to soothe the lingering sting from the waxing.

The Capitol has many demeaning traditions, but there’s nothing more performative than the Chariot rides. There’s nothing quite like being paraded before crowds of adoring fans while dressed in a caricature of your district.

The elevator slows down as you get closer and closer to the ground. It raises your hackles like a cat being lowered into water. Water that’s full of bloodthirsty sharks that have already gotten a taste of you and are coming back for seconds.

When the doors slide open, the breeze nips at your bare skin. Victors, stylists, and horse handlers alike mill around as the chariots get set up. You spot Chaff and Seeder conversing by the horses, and you see Johanna, dressed as what looks like a tree, having a very heated argument with her stylists. You choose the safer option.

“Of course, I’m the only one dressed provocatively,” you say as you approach them. “And here I was hoping you’d finally be showing some skin, Chaff.” You joke, but you really wish you were at least given some kind of underwear. It’s not exactly warm in here and that draft is reaching places it shouldn’t.

You scratch at the pins holding the wreath of purple petunias in your hair; they’re digging into your scalp. Two purple maple leaves cover your breasts, held on with nothing but liquid adhesive. You weren’t so sure about the coverage, but it’s not like you have any sway over what you wear. Vines and palm leaves of different lengths are tied low around your waist as a skirt and not very modestly. If you make any sharp movements, you’ll be flashing your ass to all of Panem.

It’s a drastic change from your last chariot outfit. At the time, your stylist insisted you be portrayed as coquettish. Someone people will sympathize with and root for as an underdog. That innocent little girl act has followed you for the past eight years. Until today, of course. The assets on display will certainly convince the Capitol elites that you’re a woman worth sponsoring, not that your clients need the reminder.

“What, you wanna switch?” He laughs.

“Oh, I’d love to, but I don’t think these leaves will be big enough for you.” Seeder ‘ooh’s as you pat one of the steeds on its flank. The only horses you're used to seeing are the ones bred for farming—hulking beasts genetically modified to only do one job. But these particular horses get to live a life of luxury as long as they serve the Capitol.

“I guess we aren’t that different, huh, girl?” She neighs at you and you take it as a ‘yes’.

“The company you’re keeping must be horrible if you’ve resorted to talking to horses,” Haymitch says as he approaches.

“I hope you’re including yourself.” Seeder teases.

“Ha, ha. I’ve gathered everyone that’ll ally with Katniss and Peeta.” He makes to lean against the horse but thinks better of it when she scuffs one of her hooves on the ground rather threateningly. “Districts Three, Four, Six, Seven, Eight, and, of course, Eleven. More than I thought we’d get, honestly.” So, that’s it then. Those are all the people who are willing to put their lives on the line for something bigger than themselves. That leaves five districts out, and if it comes down to it, ten people you’ll have to kill. 

It’s suddenly become very real.

“There’s plenty to plan and discuss, but in the meantime, how about you,” he grabs you by the shoulders and turns you toward the last chariot in the line, “go and make a good first impression.”

“How’d you describe me?” What face are you putting forward? There’s a certain way you’ll be expected to act while you’re here, so you can’t deviate too far from that shy naivety.

“If you must know, I told them you have a lot of influence and that you’d be a very good ally. Gives you a bit of creative freedom. Now, go play nice.” You stumble a little when he nudges you forward. You glare over your shoulder, and he holds two thumbs up.

Nothing he said was a lie. Whether you want to admit it or not, you do have an uncanny ability for persuasion. You like to believe it’s because you’re eloquent, but you can acknowledge people are far more likely to believe something when it comes from a pretty face.

"I've been meaning to speak to you,” you settle beside Katniss. You smile up at the horse, reaching up to pet her, "I’m sorry I missed your Victory Tour celebration." You lie. You had just finished dealing with a client at the time, so Snow, in a rare act of mercy, allowed you to skip the event.

"Everyone wants to speak to us." She remarks sorely.

"I remember what that’s like," you chuckle, feeling the horse's silky, black mane. You certainly don’t miss being the shiny new toy. There was always someone asking your opinion on benign subjects, always someone making up excuses to talk to you. It was exhausting when you were fifteen, and it’s still exhausting now. "I’m sure you’ve got plenty to say."

“Nothing I should say.”

“You can start with everything you’re grateful for. They love feeling like they’ve done charity work.” The number of interviews you’ve had to do where you practically kissed the Capitol’s ass for ‘saving you from the squalor of District Eleven’ will always leave a bad taste in your mouth.

“Well, that’ll be a very short conversation with an even shorter list.” She says, just as monotone as she is in her interviews.

“It doesn’t hurt to embellish sometimes.”

“I’m sure you do enough of that for the both of us.” You cock your jaw at the jab. You smile around it until you realize something. You might be a little biased here, but if she thinks she’s had the worst of it, then that ignorance isn’t as much of an act as you thought.

"...You have no idea how lucky you are." You frame it not as a question but as a statement. A revelation that’s just revealed itself to you.

"And how's that?" She turns to you, skepticism evident. You pause and stare at her. There's plenty you can say. Namely, the fact that she was saved from a world of hurt by that star-crossed lovers bullshit. Or the immunity her family has because the Capitol can’t seem to get enough of them. All of that can be flipped into you criticizing the Capitol by the right mouth, so you refrain.

"Well," you sigh and conjure up something that won't flag anyone's attention. "For starters, you've never had to be a mentor." 

She hesitates before asking, mask slipping for a second, "Rue?" 

You nod. "She was one of mine." She was the youngest you had ever mentored. 

She and you both knew she wouldn't survive on the ground. You and Thresh told her to stay high in the trees, and you gathered as many sponsors as you could for them. 

"The trees were her best bet at staying alive. I don't know how many times I told her that." You scoff and shake your head. She was nimble and fast, as most children from Eleven are. They’re forced to climb high in trees to get fruit, and being malnourished only makes them lighter. No one would have been able to chase her. And you knew there wasn't a chance in hell of her winning, but you still had hope, despite yourself, "and, for all intents and purposes, she never would have come down—if it weren't for you." 

Despite what it sounds like, you're not trying to place any blame on Katniss. She wasn't responsible for Rue's actions. She didn't make her come down and help. That was all on Rue and how selflessly compassionate she was. 

You are, however, trying to make her understand the role she's played in all this.

"And Thresh..." You trail off. You don't know what to say. If he hadn't been reaped, he would have been forced to do more backbreaking labor. But he would have been alive. 

It’s a complicated dilemma. Knowing that if the kid won, they'd never be the same. And there was always the possibility that they'd be thrusted into the kind of life that you were forced to live. And if they lost, then they were another bright star snuffed out of the night sky. 

It's nearly impossible not to get attached to the tributes, especially in Eleven, where you truly only have each other. 

There's no good answer, just a shitty position to be in. 

"It hurts each time you lose a tribute. But those two—I don't know. I guess they were a reminder of how…human these kids really are." You shrug and hold her gaze. "How human we are." She takes a second to absorb your words. Can she hear what you’re not saying?

My humanity, thousands of people’s humanity, you think, was kickstarted by you. Take responsibility.

"Thresh—he saved me. He probably would have won if he hadn't." 

"He did save you; they both did. It may have been unintentional, but they gave their lives for you," and with the way things are looking, they won’t be the last. "What will you do with the sacrifices they made?"

The question sits between the two of you. It’s one you’ve been asking yourself since talking with Haymitch. You wonder if your answers will be similar.

"Katniss!" Katniss turns towards the sound of her name, and what do you do? You keep facing the horse. 

Finnick.

If you went deaf, you'd recognize his voice just from the vibrations it sent through your bones. You never thought about what you would do when you saw him again. How you would react, how you would get through it. It's a grave oversight on your part because he's getting closer, and your heartbeat is in your tongue. 

You glance to the side and immediately regret it.

Your eyes trail from his brown gladiator sandals up his bare, tan legs to…netting. There’s a fishnet draped across his torso and knotted low around his hips, similar to how your skirt is tied. It’s very thin, with very spacious holes.

“Star.” You wince at the nickname. You drag your eyes away from his chest and look up to sea green. He’s just as beautiful as you remember him, just as magnetic. There’s something in his gaze, something complex, and it’s more than you can handle. It was always more than you could handle.

"Finnick," you nod, far more composed than you feel. Your tongue will always remember the shape of his name, but you’ve forgotten the taste of it. It’s bittersweet.

His eyes sweep over you at a snail's pace, and you feel him take in your curves and bare skin like phantom hands.

“Stunning as always, Star.” He compliments you just like he used to in that voice that isn’t meant for company. Not that he ever cared about that before.

You war between the urges to cross your arms over your chest and to preen under his stare like a peacock. Briefly, you’re reminded of the way some plants will shift to face the sun whenever it moves.

Katniss looks between you both. Probably taking into account the way you simultaneously wilt and bask under Finnick’s gaze and the way Finnick has yet to look away from you. You two were never subtle, and apparently, that hasn’t changed.

“I take it you two know each other?”

“We’re victors.” You sigh. “We all know each other.” He opens his mouth, but you cut in before he can say anything. Just saying your name—your nickname—was already devastating. He says one syllable, and it shakes your foundations.

You turn back to Katniss, taking the opportunity to look at anything but him. "Good luck, Katniss. Congrats on the engagement." You rush out, but it can be blamed on you being ‘shy’. You pat the horse on her flank one last time before marching to your carriage, and the blue bracelet wrapped around your ankle feels especially tight. 

You did better than you thought you would. You didn’t beg him for an explanation like you’ve wanted to since you read his letter. You’ve still got that. You still have your dignity.

You can feel his eyes on your bare back, but he doesn't call after you. Not that you expect him to. There was a time when you could predict Finnick's next move, where you could walk away and know he'd be right behind you. But now you walk away and pretend like each step isn't killing you, wound still as fresh as it was when he left you with no hand to staunch the bleeding. 

Like there isn't a box under your bed in Eleven with hundreds of sand-colored envelopes and a blue handkerchief that smells like the sea.

A/N: You 🤝 Katniss = unreliable narrators Peeta 🤝 Finnick = Longing for an emotionally constipated woman

[dissvicious]

Gonna put your characters in a modernish au because an Au where Groar is a bit apprehensive because they are supposed to open for the rather notorious rockstar Buggy the Clown, who’s been known to be… difficult to work with, but they actually see their chance at getting somewhere trying to do this band thing more professionally, so they take the opportunity and… turns out that Buggy has mellowed out in the past years after his marriage to his bassist Red and the birth of their three kids.

Don’t get me wrong, he’s still an asshole, but him sitting them all down to tell them just EXACTLY what he expects from them and how he WILL not tolerate tardiness and how he WILL just get someone else to open for him is just a tad diminished by three toddlers being present and him very obviously just wanting to cut to the chase so he can get back to spending the Sunday with his wife.

Law watches him down an, non alcoholic, beer and set it down on the table, while one of his kids is drawing and the other is just bouncing around the couch next to him. „If you fuckers break ANY of my equipment you can haul your asses back home.“ he states, glaring as intimidating at them as a man who’s just opened a new box of crayons for his son can glare at someone. „I don’t care how punk you think you’ll look smashing guitars or dropping mics, every single floorboard on this stage is worth more money than all of your instruments combined and I - Blaze be careful.“ He sends a chopped hand after his son who was just about to tumble off the couch, catching him by the ankle and dragging him back to safety. The kid giggles and squeals in delight and the clowns lips quirk upwards for a second. „… Well?“ „huh?“ „DID I MAKE MYSELF CLEAR? GOD DID YOU SHIDIOTS NOT LISTEN TO ANYTHING I SAID?“ „We’re clear!“ Osha interjects hastily. „Of course!“ Killer turns his head over his shoulder to Bepo, who they planned to bring along as a sort of buffer / intimidation tactic. Just tell the Mink to stand behind them with his arms crossed and he doesn’t even have to say anything. Should have been an easy job. To bad Bepo had immediately been confiscated by the daughter of the triplets and is now too busy cooing over her and flipping trough various kids picture books detailing the sea creatures of the grandline while she babbles happily.

They are saved from this mildly uncomfortable and confusing situation when Red herself finally comes in and Buggy shoos them out, rattling the rest of his rules (Don’t out flashy him, don’t touch his instruments, no rotisserie chicken parties, don’t look at his wife, don’t smile at her, don’t even breathe in her general direction etc.) before slamming the door behind them.

All in all this could have gone much worse.

OK SO.

First of all : THANK YOU SO MUCH. I LOVE THIS. OMG. I love every single part of it. Even if I had to google what a rotisserie chicken partie and everything I found was kinda sexual

But ALSO hold my beer because I actually had something like this (crossing Redbomb & G.R.O.A.R in a kindof modern punk AU) in mind for a while and your message was the kick in the ass I needed to work on it.

SO

In this AU Buggy is a former rockstar and a producer (fit wells with the "I'm lazy but I go and look for treasure"), he met Red as she was singing in a bar and begged her to join his label. Also in this AU life isn't a bitch and parents don't die (well, except Law biological parents) so Corazon is still alive an he comes to. every. single. G.R.O.A.R concert. and has their merch.

[gingermintpepper]

Actually, since it's not going to come up anytime soon and I ended up finalising all of the kids' 'childhood' work-spaces before I finished Apollo's, allow me a moment to talk briefly about what a few of these workrooms look like.

Ares: Snakes, snakes, snakes! One expects his room to be filled with weapons and battle dummies - and those things are certainly in there! - but most of his workroom is essentially a glorified terrarium where he's able to keep track of his little snake friends like the Ismenian and Colchian Dragons. Humid, slightly misty and filled with leafy foliage, still waters and twisting branches, there's shed skin decorating his walls, fangs and skulls mounted like prized weapons, and he even had drawings of his most beloved serpent-children done on the jars and cups he keeps in his room. Hephaestus gives all his dud-weapons and over-wrought metal to Ares for him to practice as roughly as he wants with so Ares also has a lot of unorthodox looking, completely impractical weapons laying around or mounted on his walls. Jars of dragons' teeth and eagle/vulture feathers are on his shelves and he keeps some on hand in his sparring area so he can train against Sown Men when he's testing new weapons or just trying to keep sharp. He also uses the Sown Men to puzzle out formations and battle maneuvers. He has a small rest area in the warmest part of his workroom where he keeps writings about tactics and politics that both Athena and Zeus have compiled along with a few of the scarce preserved texts from Iapetus. He has a dream-charm given to him by his father that's made from Aquila's shed feathers and is meant to keep the phantoms of his battles from haunting him when he rests. Though Ares is supposed to keep it on him at all times, he treasures it too much to risk it becoming undone, so he keeps it safe here.

Hephaestus: Hot and dry one moment and then ice-cold the next, Hephaestus has one of the bigger workspaces. Not to be confused with his forges (which are massive, and at this point are only twofold - his first, more private forge on the banks of Oceanus and the second 'work' forge deep in the belly of Mount Vulcanus where he collaborates with the Cyclops) Hephaestus' workspace is half a storage spot for rare and otherwise unattainable ores, materials and stone and half a place for him to clear his head and recenter himself. It's naturally very cold in Hephaestus' workspace and the layout is labyrinthine with long sprawling hallways that are very dark and lead to wide open rooms that are borderline cavernous in their depth. Fennel torches are on every wall in even intervals and it's very easy to tell what parts of the space are and are not occupied based on which torches are lit. Just as Ares has his Sown Men, Hephaestus has his Golden Handmaidens who assist him in a lot of the busywork of getting around, especially when it comes to lighting the hallway torches or getting materials out from hard to reach areas. His favourite room is the hearth-room which is where he's stored all of Prometheus' old research and work. Considering Prometheus was his teacher, his works are all Hephaestus has left of him and there is still much Prometheus never got the chance to teach him written down in the books. There are also tons of half completed crafts and blueprints scattered about the hearth-room along with some of the assorted jewellry Hephaestus is eternally repairing on the center table for the myriad gods. There's a loom in his hearth-room since he's interested in weaving but he's terrible at it. He can straight stitch just fine though.

Athena: Definitely has the most seemingly chaotic/disorganised workspace on first glance; Athena's space is not so much big as it is tall. The walls are ever-shifting tapestries that Athena weaves from her loom and the rack of her strings travels all across the length of her workspace. She keeps track of all kinds of events this way - meetings, histories, to-do-lists - she weaves all of it and add it to her big tapestry. Along with these, her space is stacked with books, scrolls and tablets with no particular focus. She's a collector of information and she's a voracious reader, intent on learning as much as she can from the mistakes of her predecessors as possible. Just as Ares has Iapetus' old writings and Apollo has Coeus', Athena has Crius' old writings and studies. She inherited some of it naturally but most of it, especially with respect to Crius' constellation mapping and the orientation of the stars are things she requisitioned from Pallas after she conquered him. If one can make sense of all the threads and the thousand-stories sewn into the walls and the stacks and stacks of books and navigate deeper into her workspace, they'll find carefully hung and displayed fabrics and garments and a lot of stone and wood carvings. Mostly likenesses of some of the animals around Olympus like Ares' snakes or Aphrodite's doves, but there are also in-progress models of temples and buildings that she tinkers away at when she's not otherwise occupied. Even deeper into her woven walls is a little klin area where she produces custom pottery when she wants to create in secret, usually for gifts to others.