#and i share a cabin with 7 other people

[gutsby]

Abstaining Game

Pairing: dbf!Joel x Reader

Summary: The only thing worse than an anti-sex retreat is an anti-sex retreat with your former fuckbuddy and dad’s best friend. Especially when sharing one cabin.

Warnings: 18+. IF HE AIN’T GRAYIN’ I AIN’T STAYIN’ 🗣️ [Age gap]. Unprotected p-in-v. Forced proximity. Joel making you fuck just his middle finger when he’s mad. Daddy kink. Overstimulation. First-time squirting. Angst.

Translations: ‘Don’t piss down my back & tell me it’s raining’ is a fun Southern phrase for, ‘Cut the bullshit’ or ‘Don’t lie.’

Word count: 8.6k

Read on AO3

Sequel to Waiting Game & Hating Game (last rhyme I swear)

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8

October 26, 2024

Dear Joel,

Roses are red,

We’re a couple of sluts,

Abstinence camp is awful,

I miss you rearranging my guts.

You were just about to put your pen back down to paper and add the finishing touch, signing an equally lascivious farewell, when the letter was snatched out of your hands. A tyrant in khaki capris and an artichoke-colored polo eyed over your words with a pointed look and frowned.

“Letters to the boyfriend have to be G-rated,” Marlene said, crumpling the thing in her fist before chucking it.

“He’s not my boyfriend,” you returned shortly. Then, “That was actually meant for my dad’s friend.”

You sat tight a moment as the dots came to connect in the woman’s parochial and prudish mind—waiting for the wince of disgust to twitch at the corners of her eyes when she put two and two together. Once it did, you grinned. Even when she plucked the pen out of your hand and told you to sit outside, if you can’t participate in this one simple activity, you smiled bigger and strolled at a comfortable pace out the canteen door.

Anti-sex ‘summer camp’ wasn’t bad at all when you didn’t give a fuck what your counselors told you to do.

It was ridiculous, really. Absurd. Tommy Miller catching you sucking his brother’s dick under the table at your father’s birthday dinner, losing his shit with you both, then threatening to tell your dad everything if you didn’t agree to this stupid retreat and stop seeing each other. You’d barely been trapped in the shithole for twenty-four hours, and you already knew this angle wouldn’t work.

What many of your fellow campers affectionately called the ‘Firefly Fuck-Free Zone’ or the ‘Federal Dickriding Response Agency’ (F.E.D.R.A.) was in fact a secluded enclave south of Austin where khaki-clad monsters forced you to reckon with your sexual urges like one might treat a mutated strain of the Cordyceps fungus. You weren’t meant to keep them for long, and if you did, someone like Marlene would surely shame you for it.

Frankly, Tommy was dumb as shit if he thought this anti-boinking boot camp would have an effect on either one of you—Joel wouldn’t ever bang you again after what happened that night, but it wouldn’t be because of some arts and crafts bullshit he did out on a FEDRA ranch.

He just didn’t want your dad to find out and kill him.

That was a fair concern to have. You didn’t blame him.

Presently, you kicked your feet up on the porch outside the cafeteria, where the rest of the group was finishing up letters to their loved ones—this latest activity was meant to be ‘making amends’ to the people in your life—and you tipped your head back to survey the landscape.

Nothing but sweetgrass and gently rolling hills as far as the eye could see. Somewhere across the plains there was another cluster of cabins, though you couldn’t quite see it, and someplace within that minuscule cluster, you knew there was a middle-aged man. Dark grey eyebrows furrowed in concentration and chest heaving gently. Likely hunched over an old oak desk about five sizes too small for his frame as he gripped a pen and scribbled:

Dear Tommy,

Fuck you, you fucking fuck.

Sincerely,

Joel

You grinned again just thinking about it.

If anyone had a reason to be ticked off and terrified, it was Joel. And you, you guessed. You still hadn’t gotten your period—but that wasn’t due for another few days.

For now, you’d settled on worrying yourself over what would happen after the retreat had ended; what would you and Joel do once you went back to school? What would become of his life back in Austin with a supremely pissed off brother and a best friend who didn’t know his kid had been fooling around with a man twice her age?

Silently, you thanked your lucky stars Joel’s part of the camp was kept separate from yours, because you didn’t think you’d be able to keep a straight face if you saw him.

The whole thing was sickening, if not slightly funny.

You slipped Joel’s old pack of American Spirits out of your boot and fished in your back pocket for a lighter.

Then you crammed both back when you heard a boom:

“LAKESIDE GUIDED MEDITATION STARTS IN FIVE.”

The tinny intercom rang a deafening pitch in your ears. You clamped a palm over the left side of your head and winced, having forgotten this exercise in mindfulness was supposed to be the last event to wrap up your day. You just wanted to slink back up to your cabin and sleep. Or eat. Or slip your fingers between your aching legs and indulge in some much-needed Joel Miller reminiscing.

Then you recalled how masturbation was also off limits to all would-be sexaholic campers—if there was any time to sneak off and get busy by yourself while your counselors were otherwise occupied, now would be it.

Just as you cast a glance over your shoulder to see if a stealthy exit was even possible, a voice trilled overhead.

“On your feet, skank.”

You looked back fast, and damn did Tess look smug.

Your bunkmate crossed her arms over her chest and leaned against the doorframe, seeming to feel your thoughts before they’d even been fully processed.

“If you skip meditation, I think Marlene’s gonna take you behind the rec and shoot you in the head,” she added.

“How kind.”

“Yeah? Certain death?”

“Better than the dick deprivation,” you grumbled, only half-kidding as you dragged yourself back to your feet.

Theresa Servopoulos was no avid fan of penis herself—she much preferred women when she had her pick of it—but she grinned all the same and clapped a comforting hand over your shoulder before the two of you started walking down the mess hall’s front steps. Then she only laughed a little bit when you almost ate shit treading down the winding rocky trail to the lake and cursed your present lack of intercourse for causing your clumsiness.

“You realize it’s only been, like…a day, right?” she said.

“Might as well be a million,” you muttered, “I feel like I’m never getting laid again.”

“Oh?”

Tess gripped your elbow when a root protruding from the path nearly sent you flying again. She tried not to smile.

“Well…my fake brother’s mad at me for going behind his back and fucking his brother,” you explained, coolly.

Stupidly.

“Wait—you fucked your brother?!”

That stopped Tess in her tracks. The two of you were approaching the cusp of a clearing, just feet away from where the forest gave way to the shoreline of the lake. Folks were already congregating at the water’s edge.

“Any day now, ladies,” Marlene called through cupped hands. Tess was still regarding you with eyes the size of saucers as you traipsed across the way to that voice.

“Not my brother,” you hissed.

“You said your brother’s brother. That makes this guy your brother, too,” Tess whispered—still far too loud.

“Not my actual brother, he’s just— fuck—”

Suddenly, two scraps of red fabric were catapulted in your direction. Tess caught one. You caught the other.

“Tie ‘em over your eyes.” Marlene ordered.

“The fuck?” you mumbled, but ventured nothing more as you were ushered to join the group sitting cross-legged on the ground in front of you. Everyone else was tying bandanas around their eyes like all of this was normal.

“Another trust exercise,” Tess’s voice was low as you dropped your asses one after the other on the sand. Speaking like a seasoned veteran of the anti-sex retreat, she helped you get yours on and shot you one last ‘You-better-not-have-actually-fucked-your-sibling’ look before letting you help her secure her blindfold, too.

Just as Marlene began describing in great detail what this blind, guided meditation in self-love and elemental trust was meant to look like, your friend opted to give voice to her concerns the second the opportunity arose.

Still seated side-by-side, still blind, Tess leaned over.

“Please tell me you’re not here for bangin’ your brother.”

You had to stifle a laugh.

“I am not.”

“Then explain, Cersei!”

Just then, a throat cleared behind you. Evidently another camp counselor at your rear was telling you, wordlessly, to shut the fuck up and listen to the instructions. You and Tess just scooted closer and lowered your voices.

“So this guy, Tommy…he’s been like a big brother to me for years. Worked with my dad and always had my back for the wild shit I did back in high school,” you began.

“Uh-huh.”

“His big brother, Joel, is like…old as shit, but wildly hot.”

“Dangerous combo.”

“And Joel’s my dad’s best friend. Drove me back from college over fall break when he was visiting Boston, we took a little motel detour on the road trip home, and bam—” You snapped your fingers for effect, “We fuck, right?”

“Right.”

“—imagine you’re standing at the edge of a waterfall—”

Marlene couldn’t be serious with this hippy dippy shit. You tuned out the rest of what she said and continued:

“It’s incredible. But the condom busts open at the end—”

“Oh shit.”

“—deep breath in…and release…and again, we—”

“Freak the fuck out, right? I’m poppin’ Plan B like candy.”

“As you should.”

“—hold that breath in right there—”

“A week later, me and Joel hook up at my dad’s birthday party. Only we fuck up, ‘cause Tommy catches us, and—”

This time, the counselor who’d cleared their throat to shut you up took to nudging you both in the back with the toe of their shoe. You straightened up, tilted your head back, and scowled at them through your blindfold.

“Do you mind?” you said, turning in place but unable to see anything behind you. You imagined whoever had just butted in on your conversation was probably frowning. They said nothing in return, just huffed like a child.

“Anyway.” You pivoted back to Tess, “Tommy flips his lid, tells us he’s gonna snitch on us to my dad if we keep fucking around like that, and then he…sends us here.”

You heard your friend fight back a chuckle beside you.

“And abstinence camp is supposed to cure you of this awful disease? Wanting to fuck daddy’s best friend?”

Oddly, you wanted to giggle too. You weren’t sure what was so funny, or why Tess’s tone made you want to say something equally out of pocket and lewd, but then you were leaning over before you could even think twice:

“That old man’s dick is like a fuckin’ drug, dude.”

You wished you could’ve seen her face when you said it. But you didn’t need to catch a single glimpse to know she was grinning big and dumb when she whispered,

“Prehistoric cock must’ve been pretty nice, huh?”

You choked. She snorted. You returned, next, shortly,

“Best senior citizen schlong I’ve had in my life.”

You weren’t sure which one of you burst out laughing first. Maybe Tess. Probably you. Either way, both of your sides were splitting in seconds, as the ridiculous and just marginally offensive descriptors for Joel’s dick trembled at the tips of your tongues. You felt like a teenager again, telling your friend your filthiest desires for the DILF-next-door—except this time, you’d actually fucked him. Small perks to seeking out middle-aged men in your twenties. You had to clamp your hand over your mouth to rein in the peals of laughter as Tess wheezed quietly beside you.

Then you felt hands.

Two palms under your armpits, yanking you up.

You stumbled back, graceless and still staving off half a laugh as your back struck the counselor’s chest.

“Just…take her back up.” You heard a female’s voice to your left, low and not sounding particularly amused.

Take you where? Was this the part where Marlene dragged you behind the rec and shot you in the head?

About damn time.

Whoever had grabbed you grunted in acknowledgment. You swayed in their arms, trying to regain better footing, but the grip tightened up in a second and thrust you sideways. You staggered, cursing your captor.

“Fucker,” you hissed.

Fucker said nothing.

Their hands slipped from your pits to one of your wrists, leading you away from the lake in long strides. You were moving so fast you scarcely had the chance to pull the blindfold back, so you just kept walking. Marching.

“Can you slow the fuck down, please?”

You imagined the face of the person leading you forward might’ve twisted in a scowl. Their lips didn’t stir, though.

In a matter of minutes, your feet were crunching on the flat, gravelly terrain you knew to lay under the cabins. This person was leading you back. Likely to throw you off to your room in the next several moments—but not before ripping you a new one for disrupting the peace back down at the lake. You weren’t stoked to hear it.

“Alright, just—” You tripped as you were led up the rickety steps, cursing again, “—just leave me right here.”

A set of knuckles at your spine thrust you forward.

“No? Okay. Fine. Whatever.”

You shook your head as you entered the cabin and heard footsteps follow you in. It occurred to you then that now was probably a good time to take off the blindfold.

Before you could, though, it was ripped off for you.

“Pack your shit.”

Dude.

You spun on your heels.

“DUDE!”

Your eyes moved up the very khaki shorts you despised, the puke-colored polo, the neatly embroidered camp logo, and a nametag strangely labeled ‘Lucien Flores.’ Everything in the ensemble screamed ‘camp counselor.’ But the face above it—it wasn’t one of their own at all.

It was far too lax. Fresh with an easy, shit-eating grin.

“Sweetheart—”

He started to speak, only to get the wind knocked out of his chest when you threw your arms around him.

The barrage of kisses came without you ever really intending to place them at all. You were just so stunned, practically overcome with joy to see Joel Miller in all his ruggedly handsome glory, then confused. What was he doing here, and why was he dressed head-to-toe as a counselor? And why were you so into that on him?

You doubted you could even ask the questions, and he was barely more able to answer the longer you stayed latched to his neck, kissing him everywhere your mouth could get to. You’d just stood on tip-toes to press your lips to his when you realized he wasn’t reaching back.

His hands hung limply at his sides. Still, he smiled.

“Abstinence camp ain’t taught ya much, has it?”

You parted your lips to drag your teeth along the grey-spattered scruff on his cheek—biting but not quite. Begging him to kiss you back, grab your ass, anything to quell this anguish twisting low in your stomach at the lack of contact. Joel didn’t seem keen on answering to it.

“I’ve learned plenty, Miller,” you panted against his jaw, before moving below it to sink into the skin of his neck, “Lemme show you all the stuff FEDRA told us not to do.”

Yes, you sounded desperate. No, you didn’t really care. You were much too busy fiddling with the front of Joel’s shorts to concern yourself with anything but his cock. It made it all the more gut-wrenchingly horrific and disconcerting when you felt his hands push yours away.

“No,” Joel said, simply. Then, nodding to your luggage at the foot of your bunk, “Pack your stuff, sweets. C’mon.”

He was seriously trying to break you out?

You admired the cojones on the man, but you wanted to fuck real quick to get it out of your system. Needed it.

“Joel, I—” You swallowed thickly, shaking your head.

What your mouth couldn’t finish, your eyes said clear as day: I want you to take me right here. Quick and dirty. But, again, Joel seemed completely impervious to your pleas. Almost callous in the face of such a desperate request made from your eyes to his. He moved over toward your suitcase when you didn’t want to budge.

Luckily for you, you’d never unpacked. All that was left were the clothes on your back and a water bottle on the nightstand. Joel grabbed the latter and turned around to snag the suitcase on his way to the door, when he was met with you. Obstructing his path and frowning a little.

“Joel?” You raised a brow.

“Mm?”

The man in front of you straightened up, rolling a nonexistent kink from his neck before regarding you.

His gaze was alarmingly sedate.

“Y’know, you’ve got quite the knack for makin�� shit difficult—”

“Just a quickie, Miller—”

“I ain’t fuckin’ you here!”

The sudden boom of his voice should’ve startled you. But then a broad, warm palm came to rest on your shoulder, and Joel’s expression dropped immediately. There was still a tightness to it, somewhere deep within, and you couldn’t quite work out why he seemed so…off.

Then you caught sight of something steely in his gaze.

It just might’ve clicked if Joel didn’t reach for your face and elucidate things for you himself, eyes narrowing.

“I know my old man dick is like a fuckin’ drug and all…”

Shit.

Cheeks squished between his two big hands, you had only to stare. And blink. And silently regret being so loud when you were talking to Tess before. It didn’t look good.

“Joel—”

“No, no, my senile brain must be mistaken—it was actually that prehistoric cock that did it for ya.”

Your face heated with shame. You blinked again.

But just as you tried to shake your head between Joel’s hands, he pressed his palms tighter and drew you closer.

“Senior. citizen. schlong?” he intoned, painfully slow.

“Joel, I just—”

“Need to fuck someone your own age, it sounds like.”

The man in front of you released your face just as fast as he’d grabbed it, and when he stepped back, you couldn’t help but feel a pang of desperation. That wasn’t what you’d meant! It sounded so puerile and cruel coming out of his lips like this, but you had to tell him it was a joke.

“It was a joke.”

No time to mince words now.

“Real fuckin’ comedic genius,” Joel snorted.

He rolled his eyes and tried to sidestep you, but you mirrored the movement. When your hands flew to his chest to keep him from moving, please, just listen to me, Joel, he pretended not to hear it, or feel it, against him.

“Alright. Enough,” he muttered, “‘S’time to go home.”

“No!”

“No?”

“No.”

For the first time, you saw Joel’s nostrils flare. You pressed into his sternum again, hoping to hold him in place so you could explain yourself, but it seemed he wasn’t planning on staying stationary. Joel dropped to your bunk—or Tess’s, technically—and situated himself comfortably on the bed before shooting you a look. You barely had had a moment’s time to contemplate your next move when he yanked you onto the cot with him.

Joel didn’t try to kiss you. He didn’t attempt to remove one article of clothing from your body or his. He just sat there, staring, while you straddled his hips staring back.

“If you wanna fuck me so bad, go right ahead,” he said, motioning indistinctly in front of him, “Be my guest.”

When you stilled, he added, “That is all y’want, right?”

With your palms laying flat on his chest and a head full of conflicting thoughts—you did want to bang him, obviously, but not before you’d gotten a chance to set things straight, not when he was looking at you like this—you chewed your bottom lip. Certainly you couldn’t continue while Joel still believed you were embarrassed by his age, his lips downturned and humorless as ever.

“C’mon,” he tried again, a touch more venom laced in his words as he spoke, “Show me how much ya want it.”

You needed time to think.

“Why are you…dressed like this?” you said, stalling.

But Joel wouldn’t be kind enough to give you that time.

“Stole the uniform so I could sneak out and over here and get you out. Are we gonna fuck now or what?”

His hands moved over your own to guide them to his lower half, just above where your clothed core was touching his. Your fingers moved mechanically, almost reluctantly, to undo the button and zip of his shorts.

Was that a flash of hurt you saw in his eyes?

You’d never been good at this communication bullshit. Neither had Joel. The two of you would probably just have sex now to hash out your feelings, as was par for the course for a pair of emotionally stunted individuals. It still pained you to see him look at you like that, though.

“Tess and me were just kidding, baby.”

You palmed the bulge in his boxers and heard him grunt. When you nudged his cock out of the fabric to stroke him, his eyes fluttered shut and he sucked in a breath.

“I would never say those things to hurt you,” you added.

“Didn’t hurt me none,” Joel returned instantly. Then, feeling you flick the pad of your thumb over the head of his cock, he exhaled and held his face firm in place. Like he didn’t want you to see the effect you had on him.

You let go of his cock to take off your socks and shoes. Then your top. Then your shorts. Then you slid down his body a little, unsure if this was the time to be trying something new. Or even doing this kind of stuff at all.

At first, you just sort of lowered yourself to Joel’s groin, his dick resting comfortably between your tits. Then you started to move, and your hands were cupping either side of your breasts to push inward on his member. Before you even fully knew what you were doing, you were squeezing Joel’s dick with the soft, supple flesh and stroking him gently. Gaze glued to him all the while.

His eyes cracked open to catch you watching him. Evidently, Joel couldn’t contain all of his reactions, because he audibly groaned when you got going.

Sliding your tits up and down his shaft, feeling him pulse between them. Sensing a warmth pool in your own lower half but being too focused, and slightly ashamed, to act. You just wanted to make Joel feel good, even if your words weren’t able to do the trick with apologizing.

“Come here,” you beckoned him with just one finger as you slid off the bed, to the floor. Joel sat up, and you kneeled obediently between his legs. The two of you shared a tense, sexless look for a second before you lowered yourself back down and resumed the position.

This time, Joel could—and did—stir his hips to create some friction between your tits. His brow pinched inward with a muted concentration, and you wanted to say it looked handsome on him, that you were sorry for saying those stupid things to Tess and making him doubt your affection for him, but you kept your mouth shut. You had to remind yourself that emotions had no place between two needy, unfeeling people who just wanted to fuck.

Maybe that was how it should’ve been from the start.

But watching Joel’s face twist and contort in pleasure nearly wiped the thought clean out of your brain forever.

You felt many things for him, whether you liked it or not.

You really wished you hadn’t said the things you’d said.

Joel braced his hands at the edge of the bed on either side of him, hips working a steady pace to fuck your tits. He was staring mostly at the spot where the head of his cock was poking up through your cleavage with each thrust, entranced by the sight, and in a second, a full-throated moan was fighting its way out of his chest. He spit in his hand and paused to smear the stuff on his shaft, on your tits. Spit again and rubbed even harder.

Seeing him so cold and detached, you wanted to apologize again. Maybe beg him to say something kind.

Instead, you mumbled, “I love it when you fuck my tits.”

Joel scarcely acknowledged the remark, just letting you work yourself over him, meet his shallow thrusts, look sweet and wait patiently for him to cum all over you. When it seemed he might be ready to do it, though, Joel withdrew from you the next second and moved back on the bed. He pulled you into his lap, straddling again, but this time situated over the side of the bed—him sitting up, you perched on the flat, sturdy expanse of his thighs facing him. In the space between your bodies, Joel slid a quiet and almost careless hand to your heat, flicking the sheer fabric of your panties to the side in one go.

The moment his fingers made contact, you flinched.

It wasn’t that you were opposed to his touch, you just felt unfairly balanced in this situation. Joel appeared so stoic; you, a complete and utter wreck. Fighting fifteen different emotions at once and feeling unusually vulnerable spread open to him now, you almost didn’t register what he was doing—or what his hand might find.

Joel’s groan brought you back, though. When he rubbed his knuckles over the seam of your cunt and practically choked out twice his lung’s capacity, you had to look.

Aloof as he tried to be, the man’s desire was painted all over his expression. And his crotch. And his hand.

Well, actually, that last bit of arousal was yours.

“Fuckin’ soakin’ me, sweetie,” Joel breathed.

You perked up at the term of endearment. Watching one glistening fist of his make its way back and forth against your body, smearing sticky wet pleasure all over your mound and your folds, you found yourself gnawing your lip once more, this time for entirely different reasons.

Joel seemed to soften—even if only for a glaring carnal need, you didn’t care. You sank into this gentler touch.

“Khakis kinda suit you, Miller,” you said, off-handed.

Really, Joel looked almost as comical as he was sexy in that camp counselor getup: tan shorts stretched tight over even tanner legs, polyester top sitting pretty on wide, hulking shoulders, that silly stitched logo for the camp emblazoned over his left pec, and, of course, the nametag that didn’t belong to him but to Lucien. The whole thing was so alien to his lumberjack-chic demeanor that he nearly seemed boyish. Endearing. Some spearmint-scented hottie you might’ve had a crush on at camp years ago. You couldn’t help but smile.

Joel tried not to hold your gaze for too long.

“Don’t go pissin’ down my back and tell me it’s rainin’.”

When he slid one finger to your entrance, you tensed again, but smiled just the same and let out a breath. You felt him prod at the warm, wet skin and thumb at your clit, and something told you that he’d wanted to grin too.

“I’m serious,” you said, “Scout’s hon—ohfuckfuckfuck.”

Joel pushed one finger inside you. In spite of the ease with which he slipped between your walls, that gentle sensation made it wonderfully snug. He gripped your hip and started moving his single digit in and out, and in spite of yourself, you squirmed a bit. Joel never failed to call you out for doing that; today would be no different.

“Easy, sweet pea,” he hummed when you jumped again.

But you couldn’t help it. Your hands quickly anchored themselves to Joel’s shoulders, your legs spread wider, and your hips started stirring—bucking, really—against each teasing touch. It was still just one thick finger of his.

You glanced down and saw that it was his middle finger, in particular. The double meaning wasn’t lost on you.

“Another,” you pleaded.

“Nuh-uh.”

“You’re a mean ol— mean man.” You tried to correct course when you felt a mention of ‘old’ slip back into your vernacular, and inwardly, you cringed at your words.

Joel had already heard it. He cocked one eyebrow.

“Mean ol’ man?” he scoffed, still fingerfucking you softly. When you bucked against it, he nodded as if to say ‘fair enough.’

Then, before you could chime in, he nodded some more.

His expression was hard.

“Fuck my hand,” he said.

“What?”

“You heard me.”

You weren’t quite sure what he meant for you to do. When he nodded a third time, the gesture was accompanied by a quick dart of his eyes to the place where your cunt was being penetrated by his one finger. He curled the finger inward, and when you twitched at the hot throb of pleasure that followed, he grunted.

Fuck my hand.

Nails still searing tiny half-moons into his shoulders, you acted more out of impulse than by command. The look from Joel sure didn’t hurt, though. The second you started rolling your hips, he nodded again. Holding onto his praises for now and simply showing approbation.

“Like that,” he murmured.

All you were doing was rocking back and forth over his finger, whimpers percolating quietly in your chest, but the act alone made you feel desperate. And Joel smug.

It was like he wanted to see you getting off to this one, comparatively smaller part of him without being filled. Bucking plaintively to find that fullness and coming back empty every time. Your whimpers turned into whines.

“Need more,” you keened.

“Yeah?” Joel replied gently.

“Yeah.”

A beat, then:

“Tough shit.”

But he said it so goddamn sweet you had to do a double take to make sure you’d heard him correctly. When you met Joel’s eyes, you saw a hint of amusement lingering behind them. Then he squeezed your hip again and started helping you move into his hand, up and down.

“Only givin’ more fingers to good girls, y’hear?” he said.

“What about your cock?” You couldn’t help it.

Joel just breathed out through his nose. In a second, he went from camp counselor to disapproving father figure.

“Greedy little thing, ain’t ya?”

That was all he needed to say, but the firm plunge of his middle finger certainly put a finer point on it. He curled the digit again and, upon grazing that spongy surface inside you, saw another desperate plea in your eyes.

And pleasure.

The pleasure ran almost as intense as the desperation.

Your head fell back when Joel got to making those ‘come hither’ motions again and again, thumb circling your clit, eyes trained on your figure with a marked concern. Like the prospect of not drawing an orgasm out of you in the next two minutes might very well ruin the man’s night.

“‘S’alright, honey,” Joel said quietly.

Then, finding your gaze when your head tilted back,

“Be a good girl and let go for me. Let go for daddy, hm?”

Fortunately for him, that one low hum and another flick of his middle finger and thumb were all you needed to find your release. You came on his hand with a sharp, pitiful cry and a ‘Fuckthatfeelssogooddaddyplease,’ hips working feverishly against his hand as you rode out your high. The sight of you bouncing up and down on his open palm and the way your eyes rolled back, begging him to fuck you full of his cock next, felt wildly obscene.

Joel loved obscene. Needed obscene. Hot. Febrile. Raw.

He nodded again.

Before you’d even descended fully from those staggering heights, his finger was moving too—joined by two more. Joel stuffed his index and ring fingers inside your still-pulsing hole and pretended not to hear your soft cry.

After all, you’d asked for more before. Joel was just sating your desire; your overwrought body would be fine.

“Joel,” you hissed, seizing his wrist.

“Too much?” he returned.

You tried to verbalize some answer but were cut short by a punishing stretch—all three fingers plunging in and out of your sensitive, drooling cunt and making it full of him.

“Too soon?” he tried again.

“I—”

“Too fast?”

“N—”

“Too…old?” Joel pressed after a beat.

There was an air of feigned condescension in his tone as he took on a faster pace gliding his thick, calloused fingers between your walls. You might’ve screamed if you hadn’t found your forehead pressed to his and the warmth of his irises boring into yours while he did it all. At this distance, you could discern a trace of hurt again. Something needing to be soothed inside Joel Miller.

You rutted your hips and shook your head, skull still stuck to his as you did so. Whimpers coming low.

“I didn’t…mean it,” you managed at length.

“What? That I’m ‘old as shit but wildly hot’?”

Joel wedged his fingers straight down to the knuckle and nearly tore a shriek out of your body. His eyes were surprisingly soft. Making sure your pleasure was all there.

“Hyperbole,” you choked, voice hoarse.

Then your jaw grew lax when a hand cupped your chin. All you wanted to do was melt into Joel, but you sensed something brewing again behind those honeyed eyes. Blinking was all you could do to keep your composure.

“You’re right, darlin’,” Joel said, “I am too old for you.”

Right after a clench in your tummy, a hurried word leapt up to your tongue, ‘NO!’ and you had to swallow a moan to keep from succumbing to the pleasure Joel was bringing with his fingers. Sandwiched between two orgasms was no time for a serious argument to take place, but there you were, fighting against it anyway.

“N-No,” you stammered. Stupid.

“I am.” His voice came softer somehow, more resigned.

When outright rejection of the claim seemed futile, you tried to pivot. Climax still closing in as fast as ever.

“I don’t care about that,” you hissed, exhaling hard when the first ripples of bliss crept up toward your stomach.

Joel watched you with careful eyes.

“Yeah? And Tess?”

“Joel—”

“Or Tommy.”

“I don’t—”

“Everyone else?”

Almost against your will, those minuscule ripples turned to waves of full-blown euphoria, and then you were clenching again on Joel’s hand and crying out in climax. You willed your gaze not to stray from his, but it was tough. Especially when the eyes beneath your own seemed so fucking morose and removed from you.

Don’t do this to me, Miller. Don’t do it, don’t do it.

In the wake of what should’ve been consummate satisfaction, you found yourself retreating to a place more akin to starvation—suddenly eager to get your mouth over his and start kissing, tonguing, and scraping your teeth like you’d missed out on a full week’s worth of meals. Feeling selfish but also uncertain how else to proceed—was Joel Miller breaking up with you here?

You couldn’t be sure, because he kissed you back. Joel kissed you and cupped your cheeks, then chased your frame all the way down to the coarse, scratchy sheets of the bed, where he was quick to climb on top of you.

Hell, it seemed breathing was too tough to accomplish with your frenzied pace and the continuous stream of open-mouthed kisses placed anywhere and everywhere. A groan from Joel trembled between your lips as you helped him get his shorts and boxers the rest of the way down his legs—all but dragging them with your heels—and he tightened a fist in your hair when they were off.

“I shouldn’t’a come here,” he mumbled.

“But you did,” you panted.

Both of you got lost in another onslaught of kisses, and you tried not to sigh. Joel was still battling something.

Even as he peeled your panties off and lined himself up with your entrance, he seemed resolved to stay quiet. Holding your gaze and not saying what had to be said.

He was a lot like you in that way.

You kept kissing him anyway.

The events that followed seemed to you little more than fleeting, happy scenes from a film you’d always wanted to see—an eager Joel, a caring Joel, an I-don’t-think-I’m-physically-capable-of-holding-you-any-closer Joel. The weight of his cock a welcome friend and the kisses somehow far too intimate to be considered friendly at all. You’d almost forgotten you were at a camp designed to prevent this very thing from happening between two stupid, impulsive people like you, and you didn’t care.

All you knew was a yawning stretch—that aching, empty void filled to perfection by Joel’s member—and the shockwaves of pleasure that vibrated in bands all the way down to the balls of your feet. You felt safe and secure caged between two muscular arms, and you reveled in a warmth that spanned every inch of your body touching his. The weight suffocating and somehow not oppressive; Joel cradled your head to make sure of it.

“Ain’t…hurtin’ ya, am I?” he said when you winced.

You shook your head against his sweaty palms to say that he wasn’t; you were just adjusting. He scanned your face for any trace of insincerity but found nothing.

In this tender position, your brain was ready to burst—whether from guilt, shame, ruthless self-loathing, or a sobering sense of closeness, you weren’t sure. All four seemed to form the impetus for the words that came next, which were soft, repeated apologies against Joel’s mouth. He swallowed each one without a second thought.

“Quit sayin’ it,” he rasped, low.

“I’m sorry, Joel, I’m sorr—”

Soft lips again. ‘S’okay, honey.’

You weren’t sure why, but your face felt extra hot.

Joel pressed his thumbs on either side of it while he kissed you and went deeper. Then he squeezed even more, and your breath hitched quietly in your throat.

Aw, shit, he could probably feel your heart running amok in your chest and thrumming like crazy right now.

“Ain’t nothin’—” Joel paused to send one measured thrust along your cervix, “—to be sorry for. Nothin’.”

Your legs tightened at his sides when his hips started to snap in quick, stuttered motions, desperate for more friction and depth. He got both, and he groaned feeling you tighten around him as he filled your cunt to the brim. The silky warmth of your walls drawing him in was almost too much, and every now and then he’d have to slow to mutter some, ‘’S’fuckin’ chokin’ me, honey, ya feel that?’ or ‘This pussy’s just made to take me, huh?’

Joel asked like he actually needed the reassurance. As if the slick, dripping arousal coating his length and the sounds of your whimpers mixed in with those wet slaps weren’t enough—as if he had to have deeper consolation.

He was splitting you open and looked guilty as he did it.

Still shaking with each thrust, you helped him slide his shirt over his head and bring him bare, chest-to-chest with you. You couldn’t ignore the tension any longer.

“Joel, I fuckin’ love— I need you inside,” you managed.

“You do?”

“Uh-huh.”

His face softened.

“‘S’mine, isn’t it?”

He said it so fast you couldn’t make out if it were really a question or a simple statement of fact. His balls routinely smacking your ass, eyes searching yours, always gentle.

“Say that you’re mine.”

No, Joel—don’t do that, don’t say it like that.

Your visceral reaction was to recoil. You couldn’t because he had you pinned, but damn did you want to—not him, not this, not now, Joel, why would you fucking say that?

The look in his eyes now surpassed the hurt from before. It was open and aching, even as he drilled your body in two at a near-ruthless pace. Asking you so sincerely.

The obstinacy inside you was almost laughable. Damn near sent your head spinning in a fit of hysterics at how much you wanted to say but wouldn’t; how much you sensed lay waiting to fly off Joel’s tongue but couldn’t. If you were any more emotionally pent-up you might’ve ruptured a blood vessel and lost all ability to think.

It didn’t help that you were both about to cum.

Or that Joel’s right hand was fumbling for your clit.

His expression was steady as ever when you jumped, made a whining noise below him, and grabbed his wrist. You looked down to where your bodies were joined and got a dizzying glimpse of that sight: cunt swallowing Joel’s cock repeatedly, pleasure pooling between your two bodies, then a digit at that little bundle of nerves.

He kissed your hairline and hummed.

“C’mon, pretty girl. Whose pussy is this?”

His thrusts sped up, along with his thumb.

“Don’t.” Not an answer but a warning: tread lightly, Joel.

He kissed your forehead again. And again. For a second you thought he might stay that way until you both came, but then his lips were finding yours, mumbling softly,

“Say no one’s gonna fuck you but me.”

“But—”

“None of those pencil-dick douchebag Delta Sigma whatever-the-fuck ya call ‘ems—” Joel continued, unfazed, “—not your lab partner, not your hallmate—”

His cock was gliding in and out of you at a punishing pace now. Wonderfully slick with sounds obscenely piercing to your ears. You could feel Joel digging in the depths of your tight, throbbing cunt, could see his expression contort with much the same pleasure you were experiencing yourself, and could very well smell the faint aroma of American Spirits still staining his breath. Joel Miller was a sick fuck for what he was doing to you, and he knew it. You nipped at his lower lip in between tender kisses and quietly-spoken words, and whimpered.

“—not your TAs, not your professors—” he pressed on.

You opened your mouth to let a lewd moan escape when Joel lifted his hand to shove a thumb inside. Instinctively, you sucked the whole thing straight down to the knuckle.

“Nobody but me, y’hear that?” Afforded better leverage with his finger wedged between your teeth, he shook your head a little as he fucked you. Watched you bob and nod a wordless ‘yes’ in doe-eyed complaisance while his cock drove shockwaves of pleasure straight through you.

He rubbed his thumb back and forth, and you let him.

You drooled all over that man’s finger like it might’ve been supplying oxygen to your lungs, and when Joel leaned in and said, ‘Ya like that, sweet pea?’, you answered in the affirmative. Or at least as close as you could get while Joel was filling up his two favorite holes.

Your orgasm was maybe two strokes away from shattering bones, it seemed. Now was his chance.

Swiftly, Joel retracted his touch just far enough to drag a string of saliva out of your mouth—then deliver a taut but gentle slap to your cheek. The soft thwack, combined with the sounds your bodies were making down below, served only to elevate the pornographic pitch of your moan:

“Joel!”

“That’s right.”

Joel’s mouth hovered an inch over yours, half-smirking, as if waiting to suck the words clean off of your lips. You whined when his thrusts got quicker and the mouth that was grinning got to kissing your own again. Talking dirty, too.

“Show me who this cunt belongs to. Say it,” he grunted.

You clenched, kissed him back, were just barely aware of the words you were trying to form when you stuttered some unintelligible, ‘Y-Y—ohfuckdaddyjustlikethatoh—’

Oh.

Your eyes widened to Joel’s, and before you could even begin to process what was happening to your body, his name just snapped off your tongue like a shot. A shriek. Some blissfully half-strangled moan that Joel captured between his teeth as he fucked you into the mattress and held your body tight to his own. His palm was wet.

Your legs were wet.

The soft, heaving juncture between your bodies was wet.

You were only dimly aware of the sensation as you dug your heels in Joel’s back and let out a series of cries and moans, but then that fluttering feeling inside made you flinch. A pulsing between your thighs and a…warmth.

You were still blinking through a post-euphoric haze when you felt a soft heat simmer and sink within you.

Did Joel just…cum inside you? Again?

“You dumb motherfucker,” you hissed without hesitation.

You’d just managed to shove him away—not far, but away—when you scrambled into a sitting position and slapped a hand over your stomach. Expecting to feel a churning and an awful pinch as you came to make out some vague sensation of Joel’s seed painting your insides, you were surprised when you didn’t get it at all.

In point of fact, Joel had just sprayed a full Jackson Pollock onto your stomach and was blinking, still fisting his cock as you quickly made your way back to your feet.

Where was that wetness coming from?

You stood and stared down at your stomach. Your legs. The translucent, trickling something that had paved a clear path between your thighs and all over Joel’s front. It didn’t make sense, unless—

“You fuckin’ squirted!” Joel cheered.

Your first instinct was to make a face.

That shit only happened in poorly produced pornos and movies based on books by Colleen Hoover, not real-life human beings. What the hell was this man on about?

“Be fucking serious,” you scowled, reaching for a stray shirt on the floor. Before realizing it was even yours, you hastily swiped several big globs of Joel’s cum with it. Your face grew even more enflamed, and yourself, oddly…ashamed. You couldn’t quite make sense of why Joel was grinning so big, or why you felt so embarrassed by what appeared to be a natural bodily function, but you suspected it probably had something to do with the state of sex education in Texas. Those fuckers definitely skipped squirting in favor of abstinence-only rhetoric.

Still weird. Still gross. You wished Joel would stop smiling.

“Lose the look or I’ll slap that fuckin’ grey off your head.”

Admittedly, neither aftercare nor communication was your métier. You started throwing on clothes, annoyed.

Meanwhile, Joel was swiping moisture off his abdomen three thick fingers at a time and wiggling the residue up for you to see—‘All it is is a sign of good lovin’, sweets, ain’t nothin’a be ashamed of!’—and you gave him just one finger in return. You were sliding your shorts up your legs and attempting to scrap the jizz off your FEDRA top when Joel started shrugging on his stolen clothes, too.

Your back was turned to him, eyes scanning the almost too-calm outdoors through the window a minute later, when you felt an arm snake close around your waist.

“Tastes a little like honey,” Joel crooned in your ear, doubtlessly smirking as he swayed you, “Only sweeter.”

You rolled your eyes. No cunt tasted like a honeycomb.

And you tried to say as much when he stroked over the strip of exposed skin between your shorts and the hem of your shirt, squeezing you tighter, but Joel was too good. He spidered a teasing touch over your tummy and yanked you back into his chest when you squealed and tried to break free. Then your sides, your ribcage, your shoulder blades—anyplace Joel could tickle, he tried to—and most spots, you were squeamish as hell. You clamped a hand over your half-open, giggling mouth, and when you felt him flip you around, you didn’t protest.

Suddenly, Joel’s hands were on either side of your face. He wasn’t smiling quite so big anymore but nevertheless maintained a kind glint behind his eyes. They were soft.

“‘M’sorry,” he said.

Then, pausing as if to consider his words, he said,

“You did great.”

He stopped again to press a kiss on the tip of your nose.

“So good.”

When he saw another smile twitch at the corners of your lips, as though asking him for more, he kissed those too.

“If that was your first time with…that…I’m, uh…”

“What?”

Another beat. Another stupid, stubbled grin.

“The luckiest…senior citizen sonovabitch, I guess.”

At the tail end of that, and once Joel had punctuated his sentence with another tender peck, you met his gaze again. Somehow, it had only gotten softer. His thumbs were searing the gentlest of imprints in the apples of your cheeks, his breaths were even and warm, and if you hadn’t known any better, you might’ve thought the man was contemplating saying something else to you then.

He didn’t.

The bridge to an old Billy Joel song made sure of that.

“And when she’s walkin’, she’s lookin’ so f-i-i-i-ine.”

You heard gravel crunch outside the cabin.

“And when she’s talkin’, she’ll say that she’s m-i-i-i-ine.”

Footsteps bounding up the half-rotted, cedar steps.

“She’ll say I’m not so tough just because I’m in love wi—SHIT.”

Tess’s face went blank the second the door swung open.

Thankfully, both of you were clothed. You and Joel leapt apart like she’d just caught you in doggy, though. And Tess looked like she might’ve seen an asscheek or two with the way she was staring at you both, letting the screen door slam shut, and a wordless ‘what-the-fuck’ caught somewhere in the tepid air between you three.

You stared at Tess, and Tess stared at you. Joel peered over her shoulder for the arrival of any more onlookers or folks just wanting to sing ‘Uptown Girl’ in your general vicinity. Fortunately, no one else appeared behind her.

But Tess looked awestruck enough for fifty people. She blinked and visibly swallowed as her gaze shifted to Joel.

“So FEDRA does dick appointments now?” she hissed.

“No!”

“I’m not—”

“He’s from the other camp.”

“You’re shitting me. Absolutely shitting me right now.”

You brought both hands to your face in a stifling, quiet desperation, unsure what to do. Joel just blinked back.

“I’m—we’re—” he started.

“Fucking!” Tess bit back, “You are so fucking. Raw.”

She wasn’t wrong. Her sixth sense for knowing who was having clandestine sex in her bed was kind of insane.

But, where you expected a look of horror to crawl into those taut, too-smart-for-her-own-good features, you found your bunkmate starting to raise her eyebrows.

Then laugh.

Tess threw her head back and laughed because she thought you were boinking a FEDRA camp counselor.

Joel shared a similar look of surprise but didn’t laugh.

“Yeah, I’m uh…J—” Again, he made as if to speak, to introduce himself, but Tess cut him off. About to wheeze.

“Lucien Flores, you dirty dog!” she cackled.

Joel glanced down at his nametag, started to shake his head, and probably didn’t anticipate Tess smacking him on the shoulder in a semi-congratulatory sort of way. Given a little more muscle to the playful punch, she just might’ve knocked him over. Joel was then trying to pry the pin off his polo just as you stepped closer to her.

“Tess, he’s…” You considered spilling the beans en masse but quickly decided against it. You’d have to stick to the barest of bones if you had any hope of escaping this place. So, resuming, you squeezed her arm and just said:

“Flores is gonna bust us out. Get your shit and we’ll go.”

Theresa Servopoulos didn’t need to be told twice.

And when she scrambled over to her sex-stricken bunk, inquired with a hurried but patently grossed out expression about who the fuck had wet the bed while she was gone, Joel didn’t hesitate—he said it was him.

“FEDRA man with a piss kink. I like you already, Lucien.”

[theghostsarefriendly]

Will makes a couple more trips to the Underworld after Tartarus. Nico gets to show him his room and they have dinner with his father, who Will is sure is glaring at him for the majority of the dinner until he realizes that's really just his face. Will turns 17 one week later.

Apollo laughs when Hades comes to him and asks for a favor. Not out of malice, more out of the absurdity of the situation. Even with Apollo's many children, none of theirs have ever paired up before. They're from different worlds, he supposes. While opposites may attract, love doesn't follow the same rules as a magnet. Hades' children tend to be loners by nature, it just comes with the territory of having death be your realm: it scares people.

It especially scares those who work so hard to try and prevent it, those who don't wish to think too closely about the bloodier targets their arrows land upon, those musicians and poets who work so hard to claw their way up from the pits of grief and to the pillars of fame, to become legends who escape the erasure of death.

Despite all that, their sons work.

Apollo knows this, he spent plenty of time marvelling at how Nico and Will just fit together, as cute and excited as new lovers and as deeply intertwined as any pair of soulmates hes witnessed over his eternity.

To know Hades sees it too, though? He has to laugh. It's so confusing and so obvious. More than anything, its out of character. Hades treasures his family more than most other gods. He loves his wife and rarely strays from her, and the demigod children he does sire he sees and cares for. Making a connection with a demigod that is not one of his own is new, though. He genuinely likes Will.

Nico is trying to do it, trying to be the child of his who is happy, and Will is helping him every step of the way. He's kind, understanding, every bit as fucking weird and off beat as Nico, anxious, still young and stupid. Flawed, but good.

Hades wants Will to be with Nico wherever his son goes. Nico will always venture back into the second home below he loves so much, the one that is a part of him he wishes so badly to share with Will and Will learns every day to love more.

On the morning of his 17th birthday, Will finds a box on the doorstep of Cabin 7, addressed to him. Inside is a small golden pendant, shaped into an open half of a pomegranate with tiny silver seeds. The note next to it only reads: For William Andrew Solace, with no clue of who it's from other than that the whole ensemble smells of the fire and brimstone of the Underworld. Nico hasn't been down there lately, so he assumes it's a joking gift from Persephone. 'Better like these if you're gonna be with my stepson,' maybe. It's beautiful, though. He attaches it to his necklace and laughs with Nico when he sees it, and carries on with his day. Apollo visits him for the celebrations and smiles at the pendant, but he doesn't say anything more.

The next time he visits the Underworld he feels...better. Fine, actually. He assumes he must be getting used to the place. When he eats dinner with Nico and his family that night, he thanks Persephone for her gift, holding the pendant on his chain over his shirt for the first time since he's arrived. She looks confused before she smirks and turns towards her husband, who calmly sips his wine.

"You're clearly going to be here for quite a while, I thought it would be helpful. Your father assisted."

Nico's eyes widen, and Will notices for the first time the odd warmth of the pendant. It's just a bit more intense than the rest of the chain and Nico's skull ring, more than it could be warmed from his skin. It feels like sunshine.

"Your father assisted."

He does not feel tired. He feels in the Underworld exactly as he would above ground; he doesn't have to keep his visits limited to a couple of hours. He can be with Nico in his home without distinctly feeling like he wasn't meant for it, even with all of the love he holds for his boyfriend.

He could not have a more tacit approval from Hades.

More than that, it's a pomegranate. he is wearing on his neck a symbol that he is of the Underworld by virtue of his partner. Gods, a wedding ring might be less symbolically binding. Persephone speaks again.

"Should we start calling you Prince-Consort?"

Nico and Will blush right down to the roots of their hair.

[thekissofaphrodite]

Can you maybe do Clarisse x fem! Child of Hypnos?? I don’t think I’ve seen anything of that dynamic and I’d like to see how you would write it!

OKAY. IM ACTUALLY RLLY EXCITED ABT THIS SINCE JUST LIKE ANON SAID, I'VE NEVER SEEN A DYNAMIC LIKE IT BEFOREE.

Sweet Dreams

Clarisse La Rue X Daughter of Hypnos!Reader

Summary: A shared moment with clarrise with a flick of your finger.

Warnings: Hypnokinesis, people passing out and language

Author's note: Okay, I'm actually tired of some writers portraying a child of hypnos who likes to sleep... yeah, sure, their dad is the God of sleep, but that doesn't mean they just slump on their bed and snore away! They're also powerful! If you read the books !SPOILER ALERT! Hypnos literally knocked an entire city to sleep before the battle of Manhattan for Kronos. Why can't we portray his children like that? 🤨 No hate! Just speaking facts <33

CHILDREN OF HYPNOS DESERVES SOME RECOGNITION!! (coming from cabin 7)

——

You missed your girlfriend so much.

She was in archery and capture the flag today, but you two barely got enough time to run to each other before she was bombarded by tasks from Chiron.

You saw the way her eyes would soften from afar, giving you a discreet sympathetic look while she went on a rampage on her siblings ready to stab them into kebabs using her spear. But she knew you'd find a way to get to her, she always knew.

and you always do.

It wasn't long before every camper eventually dozed off after a fun sing-a-long around the campfire, singing their hearts out about their godly parent, minus a Demeter Girl complaining about getting a fern for her birthday instead of a car like all her friends.

So here you are, pulling your night robe closer as you impatiently wait for your father to caress Clarisse's siblings to sleep so you can have a moment with her.

But your father was taking way too long.

you have been hiding behind the cabin for hours, Listening to the unpleasant way the swords and spears of the Ares cabin got sharpened and big boisterous faces laughing at eachother. Clarisse was in her bunk, her arms crossed with a seemingly frowning expression. Every laughter made by her siblings made her more and more annoyed.

Every minute that passed made you more agitated until you finally snapped.

You stood behind the cabin and held your hands, focusing on the heartbeats and every breath that they exhaled, The sound around you became indistinct and fuzzy, the time seemed to slow down. A translucent light smoke seemed to snake inside the Cabin before it swirled around Clarisse' siblings, it took a few moments before their eyelids got heavy, their breathing ragged. And sure enough, there was a soft thud where their body fell.

It took you by surprise. It also snapped Clarisse out of her thoughts. Seeing her siblings who were talking lively minutes ago dozing off turned her off, She stood up alarmingly, ready to fend herself to any attacks of intruder.

When she saw you, her tense body softened, the beam on your face was a little unreadable, but she couldn't help but smile.

You ran and threw yourself into her arms, she caught you easily, carrying your weight like nothing.

"I did it, Clar!" You squealed, Clalrisse looked at you, confused.

"Did what, Baby?"

"My father finally blessed me! I get to use my powers, i can't believe this, did you see?!" You were babbling like a baby, words being thrown at her in hyperplaps, but she listened, never letting you go in her arms. She listened and remembered everything.

Like the time you were sobbing in her arms, after multiple failed attempts on praying to your father, it hurt her. She remembered when she used to devote herself to Ares, offering him big chunk of brisket and the freshest strawberries on her plate, just for him to answer her prayer, but it never worked, until finally he had enough of her, and gifted Clarisse a spear to shut her up.

But seeing you happy for finally being able to have powers, she felt something inside her change.

Clarisse tightened her arms around you, placing her nose to your hair, inhailing your scent.

"I'm proud of you" she pulled away and placed her hand against your cheek. She was slowly analyzing the color of your eyes, carefully studying each and every details your face had, then she slowly reached to your lips, the color was a mix of peach and pink, assuming it was from the lipgloss, but it looks so deliciously kissable right now.

Her hands reached the back of your head and before you know it, her lips were against yours, an arm wrapped around your waist while pulling you close.

"I love you, did you know that?" Clarisse whispered on your lips, "i doubt it" You laughed, falling over Clarisse' soft bunk bed as she kissed you once more.

An extra for you guys since i disappeared too long :>

——

There were soft groans and mumbles coming from Clarisse' siblings, it was already 3:46 am.

"What happened?" Asked Sherman while rubbing his temple.

Clarisse rolled her eyes at her brother, Sherman, glancing at their weapons leaned against their bunk.

"Nothing, i guess you two spent way too long gossiping that your eyes eventually took it themselves and took a rest" she said, Clarisse was trying not to grin at her siblings, knowing well that it was all her girlfriend's doing.

"Huh... what did you do when we're out then?" One of her brothers, Ellis asked.

"The usual, inspection and lights out"

"Really?" Both brothers said in unison.

"Yes, don't look at me like I'm lying, unless you want a spear up your ass" Clarisse snapped, rolling over and hugging her pillow to sleep.

Both brother looked at eachother and quietly snickered, i guess they'll keep hush about that peach and pink lipgloss smudge near clarisse' neck.

And they'll definitely tell the others tomorrow.

[ryker-writes]

Hi hi! I saw rqs were open and wanted to ask something. If ur uncomfy then no need to do this but lilia, meleanor, and maybe knight of dawn x war veteran/soldier reader with ptsd, preferably in an au where they all survive the war (preferably in Current twst timeline not directly after the war for the faes)

Like, reader is either actively still in their worlds military when they got isekaid or just freshly out of it and has a similar mentality to general lilia (minus the obvious rascism... except they have a similar hatred to the "other side" if that makes sense) your choice of whether their world is magical in nature, and romantic is preferred but platonic is fine too!

OHOHOHOHOHO YES A REQUEST FOR MELEANOR AND KNIGHT OF DAWN!! I fell so hard for the Dawn knight when he showed up in the story like he had NO RIGHT being that pretty smh. Same with Meleanor! I'm caught up in the story on the EN servers, but I don't know the story on the JP servers so I'm sorry if any of this is slightly ooc and I feel like I got carried away with the Dawn Knight I just love him

I decided to do a sort of AU where these characters lived and are alive in the more modern setting of twst, instead of back when they did exist. The power of being a writer is being able to do what I want and I want them to live and be happy so-

Warnings: Spoilers for book 7, PTSD, mentions of war and violence

Request rules and Masterlists

Lilia:

Lilia knows how the many years spent in service can leave lasting effects on the soldiers, he's seen it many times to his old comrades in Briar Valley, and he has his own share of struggles after everything

So he understands the drastic shift from active combat to the calm peace of everyday life, after all, he's gone through it himself

It's one of the reasons his little cabin in the woods that he lived in was so handy, because he didn't have to worry about people

Unlike how he does with most people, Lilia doesn't sneak up on you. Sure, he does like little surprise gifts and stuff, but he won't appear out of the blue to jumpscare you

At some point he does sit down and talk to you about his own experiences, and while you don't have to share, he wants you to know that he understands and you can trust him when things get rough

He does his best to try and avoid the small things that might kick up the PTSD, like sneaking up on you or sometimes training Sebek or Silver in front of you (unless you're aware of it and okay with it)

there's a sense of comradery with you, even though you didn't serve in the same place or time, it doesn't matter

You're both soldiers, healing and living in the peace after everything has settled

And when things get tough, he speaks so softly to you, and brings you outside to feel the cool air on your skin and hear how quiet and still everything is

With his hand in yours, you can enjoy the peace that both of you have earned

Meleanor:

She herself doesn't experience the same kind of struggle you do, but she understands it well

Many of Briar Valley's soldiers were left with deep scars after the war, and she's seen the toll it takes, but it pains her greatly to see you struggling in the same way as them all

She does consult with some of those soldiers to find out what works best for them with coping, and shares the ideas later with you about it

Sometimes she gets similar moments of pure panic when she thinks Malleus (or his egg form) is missing or hurt, and when she's panicking and thinking he's missing, everyone will know by the massive thunderstorm (part of me so wants to write something about this specific point, but idk if I should)

In her experience with those moments of panic, she knows it can be helpful to physically see that it's not still happening, like how she goes to make sure Malleus is okay

So if you're in a particularly high moment of panic and stress, she takes you to the calmest and quietest part of the castle, and will hum her soft song to you

Dawn Knight:

This poor boy feels so bad for you

I mean, he certainly has his own scars from when he fought, but he has a habit of putting other's problems and needs before his own

Combat brings a heavy toll on everyone, and it affects everyone differently

He never wants you to feel like you're back in the middle of combat or experience those same feelings, but he knows at times it may be unavoidable

So he does everything he can to help you when it does

Every touch of his is gentle, he always makes his presence known so he doesn't sneak up on you, he always checks in on you if you're near any of the knights while training or if you're feeling uncomfortable

If he even gets the faintest hint that you're starting to panic, he carefully asks if it's okay to touch you

if you accept, he'll gently place his hand on your cheeks (taking off his gloves if he has them on), and gently stroke your cheek with his thumb. If you'll let him do more, he'll wrap his arms around you, and hold you so gently like he's trying to protect you from the world and it feels so warm

He'll reassure you time and time again that you're safe and here with him, even asking you about some of the things in the environment around you to help distract your mind and ground you

[forsaken-headcanons]

Yippee! A place to yap about Exploiter / Past 7n7!

I think young 07 swore like hell. Just a small show of power, that he isn't bound to any Roblox filters. It's kinda dumb, but hey, 07 is in his what. late teens - early 20s? He's allowed to be childish still. (On the flipside, current 07 doesn't swear at all, and doesn't even like using substitutes for swearing. He figured he should stop after CK copied him swearing.)

07 didn't immediately stop hacking / exploiting when he got CK. I think it took him a few years to actually stop. Part of the reason he didn't stop was, well, he'd already been doing it for years. There's really no point in suddenly stopping, kid or not. Then I think it grew to a desperation thing. A time before he stopped and started to leave that. When he thought it was the only way to help himself and baby CK, since he didn't know how to do much else.

Back when Kidd was really young, I think 7n7 used to read a Lot of parenting books. Some he obtained normally, some he stole, some he just. seemed to be in possession of. He read enough to the point that he could quote the basic ideas each shared. Hell, there was a point he could probably write his own book, or argue with people about it. (He had a lot to say about some the books, since they seemed like pure bullshit to him. Never did.) In that same vein, he went to a few different parenting classes! They. went. They weren't bad, but they definitely weren't the best.

Since he was a hacker, 07 knew the most random people that you'd never expect him to know. Most of the time it was one off conversations, or knowing a guy that knows a guy. People knew his name, he knew theirs kinda ordeal. (Current 7n7 mentions that he knows people off handly because of this. Mostly whenever another exploiter or hacker is referenced, or if a specific hack / exploit is referenced. Though he's also aware of random users that the others talk about. He just knows about a ton of people.)

There was a time 7n7 only spoke in coding phrases and leetspeak. He thought it was funny and cool, and then became a habit. He mostly kicked it as he got older, but still does it periodically in a cabin. (Sometimes it's bad enough, that only the admins can get what he's referencing, and even then, it can be iffy.) c00lkidd picked this up from him.

And another 7n7 hc that isn't quite past 7:

7n7 would definitely have been the house that every kid wanted to spend time at when CK made it into middle / high. The one that people stayed at when they had no other place. Which 7 was happy for, that he could be safe! But it is kinda hard when you're a single dad who's already struggling to care for himself and Kidd.

(Anyway, thanks for reading my yapping. I'm just so abnormal about 007n7 and hope everyday for lore about past him. Either with baby CK or pre c00l time.)

I love exploiter 7n7 so much. Especially after he got c00lkidd and tried to straighten up his act.

[rootspiral]

Agatha All Along deep dive: episode 5 part 2

(Wandavision entries: [1][2][3])

(AAA entries: ep1 [1][2][3][4] ep2 [1][2][3][4] ep3 [1][2][3] ep4 [1][2][3][4][5][6][7][+1] ep5 [1][2][3][4][5] ep6 [1][2][3] ep7 [1][2][3][4][5][6] ep8 [1][2][3][4][5][6][7][8][9] ep9 [1][2][3][4][5][6])

I was so looking forward to brighten this particular scene, it's the darkest yet and it's such a beautiful one it's a pity to miss even one detail

oh no lilia stop being so cute????

have you ever seen jen with a bigger smile? and she's quiet as usual, it's almost like more than the ride she's enjoying how much fun her friends are having. especially lilia, those two have been forming a bond that is equal parts bickering and a growing respect

I'm just glad alice had this moment of pure unadulterated joy before it came all crashing down

agatha is very, very quiet. despite never letting herself feel anything freely, she takes a moment to close her eyes and enjoy the beauty of it all

she looks back at rio, so sensual and confident

how can kathryn hahn convey so much with so little time? her breath catches at her sight. and then worry and fear take hold and she gives the tiniest shake of her head, as if she's forbidding herself to entertain any kind of thought about rio. she looks away. the blood moon behind her spells disaster

meanwhile billy is that kid who has the time of his life hanging out with the teachers during a field trip

I want to personally thank aubrey plaza for every acting choice she made as rio, but ESPECIALLY for this witchy laugh

(I just brightened the salem seven witch vomiting bees and it's actually pretty impressive! but I don't want to trigger any insect haters around here) (I love insects though so please talk to me about spiders if you want)

they couldn't get a good look at the cabin before rushing in and I couldn't either until now, do we know if it's something from Agatha's past? did she use to live there?

I'm salty that alice had to die in these stupid clothes

So. I think this trial is the most fucked up and humiliating yet. Billy knew nothing about jen except superficial facts, so he put her in a scenario that matched her work aesthetic, more of a personal insult than a wake up call (compare it with the broom lilia just made for her: roots and flowers, something that speaks about jen's work, beliefs and traditions.)

Alice's trial was entirely based on lorna, we know billy is a big fan so he ran with that concept creating something that really shook alice, and not in a good way. she was forced to sit in her dead mom's house and wear her clothes for god's sake. she took it as the Road wanting to teach her a lesson, when it was just a teenager with the grace and subtlety of a newborn puppy.

Now, agatha. billy doesn't know a thing about her because she's private to the point of paranoia. he has gathered that there's something in her past about a dead child and that's probably what makes her grumpy, so he... tried to make her talk to nicky. with a fuking oujia board. Despite having had his share of shock and trauma billy inevitably has a kid's point of view re: death, and even more so because he's functionally immortal. death is something that happens to other people, or far far away in the future. he thinks he's giving agatha much needed therapy, when he actually put a grown woman in child's clothes and made her relive her traumas for everyone to see.

btw I'm not in any way saying that the trials are bad writing. they are brilliant writing. they're just tragic and fucked up behind the funny exterior, just like agatha herself. sorry for the rant.

I mean I wouldn't be opposed to that. we could put billy back in a closet for a little while and get down and dirty with it. and ooh there's a little leaf on rio's shirt, I hadn't noticed it!

jen's retainer always SENDS me

agatha's face when she realizes it's her trial

agatha is irrevocably, eternally linked with death in all its forms

looks like rio is playing along and setting the scene, but she's also doing something more subtle that only agatha understands: she's provoking her, and it's becoming more personal and hurtful. she's testing and punishing more than she used to. she is growing angrier.

agatha wants to tell rio to fuck off but knows she deserves it. agatha is NOT happy to be in this trial for reasons that go beyond what everyone present (except rio) assumes, but she'll bite the inside of her cheeks until they bleed before she shows any of it

the way he says it with a straight face too (again, NO PUN INTENDED. forgive me joe, I would never)

oh great alice has only thirty minutes to live

everyone looks worried and on their guard, rio has her whole knife out, playing along. agatha is STILL trying to look cool and casual, it's painful to watch. girl is panicking, hard

meanwhile billy is always bringing a whole different energy, he's playing and having fun! think back to the second episode when they met lilia and then jen and alice for the first time. billy had no clue about the tension, the fear and hate between them and agatha. right now he's still more excited than scared. he's about to have a rude awakening.

do not taunt the spirits, AGATHA.

lmaooo. this motherfucker.

another moment when billy sounds chillingly cruel. being jigsaw without realizing it

I'm not pointing it out every time but whenever agatha does this with her arms she's really, really really nervous

what does agatha do when she's scared or overwhelmed? she puts on a show. like clockwork. and rio has already guessed what's about to happen

I really want to continue this so there will be more later today, stay tuned!

go to episode 5 part 3

[merakiui]

In your opinion, where do you think those silly eels would live? Would Jade be in a cabin up in the mountains somewhere? Would Floyd just go back to the sea? And if he didn't, what environment and house would he live at? I really can't think of one for him and I love how realistic you are in writing the twins. Hence why I ask you. If you don't mind answering of course!

:O this is so fun to consider!!! Please forgive such a long ramble. I love dissecting these eels at any given opportunity. Thank you for saying my portrayal of them is realistic!! :D

I can definitely envision Jade living his cottagecore life in the woods or mountains. Anywhere that's isolated within the embrace of nature because that gives him all the time in the world to go on hikes and admire the scenery, and he has access to so many delicious things for foraging!!! But then I feel like he couldn't do it forever?? I've seen the argument that Floyd can function on his own perfectly fine, but it's Jade who prefers to lean on the company of him or Azul. I think their dreams in book 7 were really telling. As silly as Jade's dream was, it still included Azul and Floyd because they are such essential parts of Jade's life and he cares about them so much.

Part of me thinks he'd live in different environments from time to time just to sate his curiosity or immerse himself in a place he enjoys, but I think a lot of this would be temporary. Jade would like to live in a place where he has access to his favorite people, but it also allows him to have his alone time when needed. He can be just as spontaneous and whimsical as Floyd, so perhaps this is seen in how he explores the world and lives in both land and sea. I could see him being a world traveler,,, tbh though he's a Leech, so the world is basically his oyster and nothing is too crazy or impossible. T_T he could genuinely do anything,, money is never an issue for him.

As for Floyd!!! I'm inclined to place him in a city. I feel like the busy hustle and bustle of a city is exciting to Floyd. There's so much to do in a big city and so many parts and places to see and explore. Maybe I'm just severely the law of magnetism-brained because Floyd lives in the city in that fic, but I do think he'd enjoy city life. He's an independent guy, but I also think he can't do too much independence otherwise he's prone to stagnation like what we saw in his book 7 dream, where he did everything he wanted to do and then quickly became bored.

So similar to Jade, I think Floyd could live in a city for a select amount of time, but inevitably he might wish to go elsewhere once the shine wears off or if it's not everything he's looking for anymore. Since he's young, I imagine he'd want to travel and see lots of places much like Jade. I don't think either of them does so with the intention of settling down quite yet. And that's perfectly logical. Imagining they're both fresh out of NRC and in their early twenties, it makes sense for the both of them to be in a place where they're still finding their footing in the world.

Of course if you ask either of them their home is always going to be the Coral Sea. That's where their childhood home and family are. The sea is very cherished by both eels. They always mention it in-game, and I think it's not just because they're merfolk and the land and sea are very different; but also because they love sharing the beauty and wonders of the sea with others. The sea carries a lot of sentimental value to them.

Perhaps I'm delusional, but I think it's cute to imagine the eels wanting to share such an important piece of their background with you. >w< so perhaps they'll inevitably return to the sea one day,, maybe that's where they both retire when they're older. Until then, though, a lot of their early life is filled with exploration throughout various environments. For Jade, I imagine it's places like quaint villages (think a place like Harveston), the mountains, or the forest. For Floyd, I imagine busy cities, well-populated islands, or maybe even somewhere rural if it's interesting enough to him.

AS FOR HOUSES BECAUSE I ALMOST FORGOT!!!!! I love placing Floyd in a penthouse and thinking about Jade in somewhere small but smart with space,, like a comfy cottage. Floyd can be impulsive and a touch materialistic at times, so I feel like he'd buy a penthouse suite solely for the extra space and then eventually realize it's either not for him or just what he wanted. He's the type to turn a wine cellar into a storage room for all of his luxury brand shoes LOL. But then it really depends with him. Jade, too...... (un)realistically maybe they both start with a little apartment somewhere. It's not the best, but it's good enough for them being fresh out of school and searching for jobs. Realistically, they come from a family that has MONEY and so their living arrangements are probably considerably more luxurious from the get-go. T_T

Alas,,, these are the thoughts!! <3

[salamander-spark]

My first fanfic! I'm proud of it even if it's a little rushed. I barely managed to get it out within the day. Tomorrow's prompt might just be a drawing.

Day 1:

Hug/Cabin 7/Shapeshifter

Fic below:

TW: very brief depiction of a panic attack, description of nightmare.

It had been a month since Vee's mom and sister came back from the boiling isles.

The stress Vee felt the few days it took for the return was immeasurable. A worry for her family took root in the back of her mind, it made sleep nearly impossible, and gave her nightmares.

Waiting for months, no contact, no words, no way of knowing if they are alive. No magic. She'd be found out, spreding herself too thin with Camila and Luz's responsibilities, inevitably slipping up. People from the town gazing upon her demonic form. The eyes of Belos's monsterous form looming behind everyone. her family, Luz's friends all dead they couldn't stop him THEY COULDN'T COME HOME THEY WERE DEAD HE KILLED THE —

In the present, Vee shook her head to dispel the images her imagination made. She remembers the dreams vividly, still occasionally seeing them in her sleep.

The week following their return, she found the pamphet Masha handed her. Blushing (But NOT because she remembers making a fool of herself in front of them), she decided it was time to take up their offer. 

And it turned out AMAZING, Masha's gradoise flair really fitting the tour guide gig. It was just like back at Cabin seven when They waxed poeticly about the many pagen dieties and what they did. 

Vee kept up with Masha's narration, interjecting questions when she thought of them, keeping the conversation flowing. Vee told Masha about herself, and Masha shared stories about their friends. An aching Vee didn’t realize she had in her heart began to fade talking to her friend after so long, but only slightly.

Masha didn't know that she knew them. For all they knew, they were talking to a complete stranger. The person they talked to couldn't possibly be the shy, anxious girl they shared a cabin with. She couldn't be the friend they helped bring out of her shell, who looked at all things mundane with innocent wonder. She wasn't Luz Noceda.

The insecurity persisted, became even bigger after Masha invited Vee to hang out with their friends. Diego, the tall, relaxed boy who let his hair fall onto his face and probably had a million zits on his forhead. Samantha; or rather Sam, who had a love for video games and anime, and rambled about them to the captivated audience of her friends. 

Neither of them knew her as Vee either. It was awkward, but managable, getting to know them a second time. She noticed that they were each more comfortable in conversation than when they were back at camp. They were all less reluctant to share the information about themselves that took them weeks to share at camp. Vee supposed she was also more confident, staying in a cabin with each other must have been to thank for that.

She didn't know how long she could keep lying to them, for her own sanity.

"Say," Masha began, "What about those kids you were hanging out with? They're your other friends, right?" 

Vee, lying belly down looked up from the Cosmic frontier book she was reading. "Huh? She got so invested in the plot it took her brain a while to process Masha's question. 

"Y'know, at the historical society, right before Halloween," Masha clarified. "You guys asked me about that rebus remember? That one kid was going on like, 'Grahh chop off my ear' or something," Masha giggled. 

Oh. Luz's friends. Vee knew the witches also considered her part of the group, but it was easier thinking of them as her sister's friend group.

Wait... They didn't have a proper cover story! Vee was terrible at lying on the fly, but she needed to start talking now!

"O- OH YEAH, that was Gus. H-hes pretty fun. Then theres uhhh, Amity with the pink hair, Willow had glasses, and... oh yeah Hunter too but he was at our home that day." Vee needed to stall so she could come up with something.

"Is he The Blond cosmic frontier fan?" Masha asked, which confused Vee.

"When did you see him? I don't remember him going to your job after we left."

"No, I actually saw them at the haunted hayride! oh, I guess I only told you two-" Masha points two fingers at Sam and Diego respectively "-about that since you weren't hanging out with us back then. Whoops~"

Suddenly, Diego piped up. "Wait, you said 'Our' Home. So they like, live at your place or something"  

CRAP!

"Uhhhh well... you see." Think of something Vee, just spit it out. "Foreign excange students?" she thought out loud. "-From out of state not another country!" she amended in a panic.

"O–kay?" Sam raised her eyebrow "I've never seen them at school before, and you know I watch people like a hawk." It was true, back at camp, Sam compiled a list of the campers from other cabins activities in order to know who to watch out for. 

It wasn't a skill she thought would be used agsinst her.

"Well, There are other schools in the area you know? I think they went to, yknow..." She didn't know the names of any other high schools. "...Not Gravesfield high?" She finished with a shrug. And also, they went back to their own rea-" DONT SAY REALM "TOWN like, right after Halloween, so yeah, that's why you've never seen 'em" She finished with a shrug and a manic chuckle.

How did she keep this up for thee months straight? She must've lost her touch. Then again, she considered not having to lie as a good thing.

"Sure, I'll accept that." Sam relented.

"Hold up, am I missing something, or does that like. Not make sense." Diego once again came in with his terribly timed questions. "Cause like, you said they lived in your house, why wouldn't they go to the same school?" How is he so perceptive!? It must be because he doesn't devote much energy into responding so he can listen better.

Masha put a hand on her shoulder "Hey, sorry about him Vee, if theres something you don't want to tell us, you don't have to." assured Masha. "We didn't mean to push so far." Masha turns toward the offender, "Diego." They enunciate.

Vee didn't her most of what Masha said. Where Masha tried to reassure her, Vee only heard an accusation. 'something you don't want to tell us' sounded more like 'You're hiding something, aren't you Vee.' And what did that last part mean? Could they tell she was panicking? WHY DID THEY SOUND ANGRY?

They'reGoingToForce AnswersOutOfmeNobodyTrustsMe-

Everything turned blurry, she was hyper aware of all the sounds of the room closing in on her. Her heartbeat was in her ears, everyones voices blended into a cocophony She needed to get away She's clammy and very sweaty-

It's queit, what changed, is there still danger?

She heard breathing, not her own, someone elses, not her own, and it makes her realize how quick she's breathing. She tries to slow down, matching the pace of the other person. 

When she finally steadied herself (it felt like several minutes but also less than one) She opened her eyes (They were closed?) and sees Masha sitting on her knees on the bed in front of her (She doesn't remember getting into this corner). They continued to demonstrate the breathing exercise, which they also did with their hands.

Vee thinks she remembers something like this happening at camp, but isn't sure right now. Masha gestured their hands out wide, clearly asking if it was okay if they could give a hug. 

You don't deserve one, her brain tells her. No, she shakes her hehead.

Masha sits with her, and they both breath. Such a simple act, filled with so much understanding. You doesn't deserve Masha. 

She's now aware enough to know how mean she's being to herself. She spots her other friends sitting in the middle of the room, Dego on the floor while Samantha sits in the desk chair. She gives a meek wave and they wave back without keeping eye contact. They look ashamed, Masha must've given them a talking to.

"Hi guys, sorry you had to see that," she knew she shouldn't be apologizing, but this whole situation never would've happened if she was truthful from the beginning. 

"No Vee, this wasn't your fault." Says Masha

Sam adds in "We're sorry. Diego said he should've realised before he asked that. And I'm sorry for getting so uptight about answers." Sam makes eye contact at the end, though it almost looks like she's scrutinizing Vee's face-

-She spins to look at the mirror and sees a splotchy mess of skin on her face. One could confuse it for vitiligo -a skin condition she learned some humans have- if not for the fact her face was previously a single solid shade of brown. 

Her hair is now completely blue, and a bit shorter, exposing her ears in their full glory. They must've been flapping like crazy during her panic attack.

Her sclera was blue, and took on the glossy sheen of an amphibious creature. 

None of those are human traits.

Her head snaps back towards Masha, cringing while waiting for a reaction.

"So..." They began. "I um. I like your ears?" They clerly want to say more, but refrains to be polite. "Once again, I don't wanna force you to answer. I've just got a lotta theories in my noggin right now and I would like to know the truth. But again, no pressure. Whetever the truth is, I'll try not to react badly." They finished by putting their hands up and smiling. 

Both looked at their friends who nodded. "Hey I'm cool with you being a shape-changing spirit, or some cryptid, or whatever you are. Again, I'm sorry." Sam smiles.

Diego nods and says "Ditto, what she said."

"And if you're not ready right now, we trust you. We just want you to be comfortable with us. You can talk later

Now was the time to come clean to her friends. It wasn't because she was backed into a corner. They let her keep her secrets if she really needed too.

Her eyes tear up, and the tears wetted her cheek. They trust her.

Hopefully they stayed true to their words. Here goes nothing.

"Um, Let me tell you about a place called the Boiling Isles"

She shapeshifts into her true skin for the first time in their presence.

Sam fellbackwards off her chair while Diego simply said "woah." After squeaking in a high pitch, Masha just stared, taking in the details of her true for  from her tail to her hair.

She could’ve eased the group in better, could've given them a better idea of what to expect. But flowery speeches were Luz’s deal, and Vee wanted to rip off the bandaid.

She hoped they  would share Mom and Luz's opinions on how non-threatening she looked. Masha looked far from disgusted at least, but she had no idea what was on Diego's mind.

Sam lifted her chair to defend herself, before realizing how it looked and set it down. Vee only now remembered Sam has a fear of snakes, Ophidiophobia if she's correct. 

She considered apologizing, but decided against it, given this whole thing was mostly Sam's fault. She could be petty, she deserves it. She's definitely getting around to it later though.

they let her explain herself in full, with no interruptions. She told them about the titan, demon and witches. She wasn't quite ready to tell them how she was born, but she told them she pretended to be Luz for the summer.

Everyone's eyes grew wide at the admission, and it looked like they had something to say. Then they looked in her eyes and she gave a look that said she never wanted to hurt them.

She didn't expect them to start joking around so quickly after several earth shattering revelations, but she could tell that they wanted to lighten the mood before discussing them.

They were also being super frustrating about the cute comments.

“I'm not cute. Luz calls everything cute, like. Possums, for one.” She scrunches her face, “and she didn't even bat an eye at a bunch of talking rats!” 

“Your face looks like a cat,” says Diego, his mouth curved in an uncharacteristicly mischievous grin. “But like, a bald cat that fell in a can of green paint.” He teases. 

"Hey, you up for that hug yet, Vee?" Masha smiled that pretty gap toothed smile, and Vee felt her resolve shatter. 

"Y'know what? yeah. I could use one." Vee agreed.

"Want to make it four?" They asked, to which Vee nodded.

Vee tightly hugged Masha, and they embraced. With Vees hace in the crook of their neck, she wrapped her tail around Diego who had moved behind her. "Sweet" he simply remarked.

Masha looked at where Sam sat crisscrosed, hand hovering over Vee's tail hesitsntly. "Hey, you know she's not slimy, right?" Masha indignantly asked. "She's also warmer than I expected, she barely even feels like a snake. More like what I imagine a dragon would be like." Masha blinked "Can you turn into a dragon?" Masha almost shouted.

Vee shrugged, Sam insisted "But do I have to?"

"Yeah, get over here dummy!" Vee wrapps the end of her tail around Sam's midsection. Vee thinks she looks a bit pale.

"Geez it must be 'everybody bully Sam hour' today! Really, I'm still sorry," Sam defends. 

"You were a jerk, you owe me something expensive!"

Diego and Masha laughed at Sams expression, Vee leans deeper into Masha's hug. 

"You okay Vee-Vee?" masha softly asks.

"Yeah," Vee looks around at her friends. getting an idea.

"Cabin seven!"

"HOO HAA HAA!" chorused four voices

"I love you guys." whispered the shapeshifter amongst her closest friends.

[rinchfest]

Coming this September to an internet near you: Rinch Fest 2024, a ship week for Harold Finch/John Reese from Person of Interest! This is a low-pressure event meant to encourage the creation of more fanworks for Finch/Reese or Finch & Reese’s friendship. Fic, art, gifs, vids, podfic, you name it—all are welcome, as long as they’re Rinch-centric.

Posting for Rinch Fest will run from September 24 through September 30, 2024

PROMPTS:

Day One – September 24 Fluff• Pining• "Always" • Dark• Domesticity

Day Two – September 25 Be Nice To John• Established Relationship• Road Trip • Food/Drinking/Cooking • Art

Day Three – September 26 Be Nice To Harold• Belly• "Beach Cabin in the Woods• "Five+1" • Pets/Animals • Music

Day Four – September 27 Kids/Babies/Pregnancy• Hugs• Clothes • Setting/Genre Change AU• The Machine

Day Five – September 28 Bed Sharing• Wedding/Marriage• Crossover • Canon Divergence • Tropes

Day Six – September 29 Finch Whump • Reese Whump • NSFW/Kink • Retirement • Home

Day Seven – September 30 Free-For-All/Catch-Up Day

Keep reading for more info!

Who’s running this? ArgylePirateWD. Hi! Now with mods @alexsrousseau and @stingalingaling

Any changes since last year? None! As in previous years, Reese&Finch friendship is also allowed

Why not call it Rinch Week? It started out as Rinch Fest on The Rinch Loft on Discord, and that’s what stuck.

Plus, Rinch Fest and Reese & Finch share the same initials.

What’s allowed? Complete fanworks focusing on Harold Finch and John Reese in a romantic or close platonic relationship with each other. Fic, art, vids, remixes, sequels, you name it! No length requirements, no style requirements, all ratings allowed—do what you want!

Anything not allowed? Works where Finch/Reese or Finch & Reese is not the primary relationship (additional ships are fine), works that are incomplete at the time of posting, and remixes or other transformative works for other people’s fanworks that are done without the original creator’s permission. Anything else is fair game, as long as it’s labeled.

Also, don’t be a jerk.

What about [insert controversial topic here]? Can I make something with x?/OMG someone made something with x! Anything else is fair game, as long as it’s labeled. This includes works featuring tropes and kinks that you may not like or approve of. As long as it’s warned for, it’s fine and allowed.

Please warn for the usual AO3 warnings (Major Character Death, Graphic Violence, Rape/Non-Con, and Underage) and any subjects others may find deeply unpleasant, and clearly label any NSFW works.

What about poly? Gen? Poly is wonderful, but this is a Finch/Reese or Finch&Reese event. Sorry.

Finch & Reese gen is allowed!

What do I do with x prompt?/Can I do [insert concept here]? Anything goes! Seriously, however you want to interpret a prompt is fine.

Do I have to make something for every prompt? No! You can if you want, but it’s not required. Feel free to skip days, combine prompts, create multiple fills for each day, anything! This is as flexible as it gets.

If it fits multiple prompts, when do I post it? Whatever day works best for you!

What if I want to do something NSFW? There's no nsfw prompt this year. Is it still allowed? YES! Bring on the spicy if you want!

What about a multi-chapter/piece thing where each chapter fulfills one day’s prompt? When do I post that? Post an update each relevant day until you’re done! (Just make sure you can finish it by the end of the event.)

What if it doesn’t fit a prompt? That’s what Day 7 is for! :D

What if I need to post my fill(s) on a different day? Life happens. The AO3 collection is set to Unrevealed, so I can reveal early submissions on the right day, but if that doesn’t work for you, I’m sure we can work something out.

Can I work on a previously-posted WIP? As long as it’s finished when you make your post for the event, sure! If you’re just updating a WIP without finishing it, no.

Can I start working now? Absolutely! That’s why I’m announcing it now—so there’s plenty of time for people to make things.

Can I talk about/share previews of what I’m working on? Sure!

Wait, there’s a Rinch Discord server? Do I have to join to do this? Of course not. We’d love to have you at The Rinch Loft, and it’s a fun place to hang out, but Rinch Fest is for anyone into Rinch.

If I want the Discord link… Send in an Ask to the @rinchfest Tumblr, contact ArgylePirateWD somewhere, or ask around. It’s open to anyone who likes Rinch or Person of Interest. I’m happy to give it out to anyone who wants it.

Where do I post? On Tumblr, post to your blog and use the #rinchfest23 or #rinchweek23 tags. You are They are being watched. 👁 And maybe add @rinchfest in your post to be sure. Tumblr is as hungry as Bear and Shaw.

Submissions are also open.

On AO3, you can post it here: https://archiveofourown.org/collections/rinchfest23/

Do I have to have a Tumblr? AO3? As long as you’re on some kind of platform and can get a link to the work to me somehow so I can share it with the world, you’re welcome to play.

On October 1st, I’ll make a round-up post full of links to all the shiny things people made. If I know you made it, it’ll go in!

What time zone? The daily prompt posts will be going up at 12 am Central Time, but as long as it’s the relevant day for your fill somewhere in the world, go ahead and throw it in!

(And if you want to sneak in some Day 7 things a little after, as long as they get posted before the Master Post goes up… 😉)

Sounds fun! How do I sign up? No signups! Just post your stuff somewhere on the right day(s), and you’re in!

[canirove]

The invinsible princess | Chapter 7

“Like the title of that Beyoncé song said…”

Author's note: This is one of my favourite chapters, so I hope you like it as much as I do. And to the anon who sent me the loveliest message ever the other day... I'm still thinking about it, thank you very much 😭💜

Chapter 6 | Chapter 8

Masterlist

“I can't fucking feel my ass” I say while getting out of the camper van Pedri and I have rented for our road trip. 

“Sofía!” he gasps. “Those aren't words for a lady like yourself!”

“Oh, I beg for your forgiveness, my lord. Please allow me to rephrase it… Blimey!” I gasp, covering my mouth like women did in old movies. “I can't feel my lower back after being sat for the past two hours!”

“Much better. Thank you, my lady” Pedri says, doing a little curtsey. 

“My lord” I reply, doing the same before we both start laughing. Whoever sees us behaving like this at a petrol station, must think we are crazy. “Anyway, can you do me a favour before you start with that?” I ask him, nodding towards the van.

“Of course. What does the lady need?”

“I need to use the bathroom, but I don't want to go alone.”

“What?” Pedri laughs. 

“Yeah, I just… What if I'm doing my business and someone comes in and catches me there? I don't want to go online and see that a photo of myself sitting on the toilet has gone viral.”

After my first and so far only viral photo, the one with Charles Leclerc a few years ago, I've become a bit less invisible than what I was used to. Most people still pay more attention to my sister Leonor, but Carlos has had to stop paparazzis from taking photos of me and my aunt leaving work together more than once. 

“Ok, fine” Pedri sighs. “It is a bit weird to not have Carlos around, isn't it? He usually is the one who does these things.”

“It is, yes. But it was what we wanted, so” I shrug.

“I'm sure he still is keeping an eye on us somehow” Pedri says as we walk towards the back of the petrol station, where the bathroom is. “I can see him glued to his phone, checking the van’s GPS to make sure we are following the route we shared with him” he laughs. “He may have even set some microphones and cameras inside to make sure we are alive.”

“For his own sake, I hope he hasn't.”

“Because of what he may have heard last night, for example?” he smirks. 

“If you mean your snoring, then yes. But I was talking about you singing while driving.”

“I beg your pardon?” 

“Let's just say that becoming a singer isn't a career path you should follow once you retire from football.”

“So rude, my lady. So rude… And we've made it.”

“Aren't you going inside?”

“What?” Pedri chuckles.

“Yeah… To make sure there is no one hiding or something.”

“Sofía, this petrol station isn't like the ones you see in American movies. Here they clean their bathrooms and there isn't a guy hiding behind a door ready to kidnap you and take you to his cabin in the woods.”

“Better safe than sorry” I shrug.

“Urgh, fine” he replies, rolling his eyes and walking into the bathroom. “It's empty, you can come in.”

“Did you check it properly?”

“Yes, I did. There is no one inside, and it is quite clean. Maybe not as much as those golden toilets you have at the palace where you can see your own reflection, but they are ok.”

“Idiot” I say, giving him a little push and making him laugh. “But thank you, Pedri.”

“Anything for you, my lady” he smiles.

━━━━━━❃━━━━━━

“I think we'll have enough with these snacks until we… Sofía? What are you doing?”

“Have you ever used one of these?” I say, looking at the machines outside the petrol station’s shop.

“Yeah. Who hasn't?” Pedri chuckles. “Oh. Sorry. You…”

“As a kid we often saw them when we were on holidays, but my mum never allowed Leonor and I to buy anything from them. She said they were just a stupid way to waste your money on useless stuff.”

“I mean, she's not wrong. But we used to have one at the bar in Tenerife, and just seeing the kids’ faces when the ball comes out of the machine and they open it to see which surprise they've gotten makes it worth it.”

“I guess...”

“Here, take this.”

“Why are you giving me these coins?”

“They are the change I got from buying our snacks” he says, nodding towards the bag in his hand. “You can use them on the machines.”

“What?”

“You just told me that you've always wanted to give them a go, haven't you? Then do it, Sofía. You are an adult now, your mum won't scold you for doing it” he chuckles.

“I… I… Thank you, Pedri” I say before wrapping my arms around his neck and hugging him. 

“That's ok” he smiles. “C'mon, let's see what they have.”

The first machine is a Pokémon one, and each ball has a different figurine inside it. 

“What is that?” 

“Pedri, this is Charizard!”

“I'm only familiar with Pikachu” he shrugs.

“You… seriously?”

“Yeah.”

“And then I'm the weird one.”

“You aren't weird, Sofía” he says, kissing my cheek before I put another coin on the next machine. This one has just little teddy bears made of rubber. Very ugly teddy bears. “That smile they painted on him is kind of creepy, isn't it?” Pedri says when I open the ball I got.

“A bit, yes” I laugh, moving to the next machine. This one has little racing cars, and he is definitely way more excited about it than me. “This one is for you” I say, giving him one of the coins.

“For me?”

“For you” I smile. “I know you are dying to do it and see which car you will get.”

“I actually am, yes” he smiles back.

“But wait, let me get my phone and film you. I have the feeling this is going to be the cutest thing ever.”

“Everything I do is cute, my lady” he winks before crouching down in front of the machine, looking like a kid on Christmas morning when he opens the ball and sees the car inside it. “Now it is my turn to film you” he says once he has calmed down. 

“Me?”

“The last one has jewelry or something like that. And you like your jewels, my lady” he smirks.

“I do, yes” I reply, my hand instinctively moving to my necklace. To the banana charm, the S one, and the new addition: a P one he got me for my birthday last year.

“And? What is it?” Pedri asks me when I open the ball. 

“I think… oh.”

“That actually is quite nice, isn't it? Let me help you put it on.”

“What?” I chuckle.

“I have to practice for when it's time for the real one” he smirks, taking the ring from my hand and putting the phone on his pocket. Because the surprise on that last ball had been a ring, one that didn't look that bad for just 1€. “There you go. Perfect.”

“Though not as perfect as you” I say, wrapping my arms around his neck once again. “Thank you very much for this, Pedri.”

“For putting a ring on your finger?”

“For everything. From checking the bathroom to see if there was a murderer lurking in the shadows, to buying me my favourite chocolate bar without me asking for it, and for letting me experience this and go home with a very cool ring. The real one is gonna have to be a really cool ring to be better than this one” I say with a teasing smile.

“It isn't gonna be an easy task, no. But I'll do my best. Because for you, my lady… For you I would do anything.”

“Aww, Pedri…” I say, trying to not start crying in the middle of a petrol station. “I love you.”

“I love you too, Sofía” he says before kissing me.

━━━━━━❃━━━━━━

“Ok, what happened.”

“Uh?”

“Pedri, you've been dating my sister for years and you know I love you like a brother” Leonor says. “But this is the first time we are having lunch together just the two of us without Sofía.”

“Then it was time we did it, don't you think?” he shrugs, focusing on his food.

“Pedri…” Leonor sighs. “What happened? Is everything ok between you two?”

“Yeah.”

“Then?”

“Then nothing.”

“Pedro!” Leonor says, raising her voice.

“God, you just sounded like your mum when she gets mad with your dad” he chuckles.

“Oh, this is not me being mad. Me being mad is something you don't want to see, so you better tell me what the hell is going on.”

“I…” he gulps. “I want to propose to Sofía.”

“No!” Leonor gasps, making Pedri thank everything for being alone in a private area of the restaurant. Because if they had been surrounded by people, all eyes would be in them after how loud that gasp had been. “You are going to do it?”

“Yeah” he says, nervously playing with his fork.

“How? When? Where?”

“I don't know yet. I actually decided it this morning.”

“What?”

“Yeah” Pedri says again. “I had just left my therapist's office, and it hit me: I was ready. I am ready to ask Sofía to marry me and to deal with everything that will come once it is made oficial.”

“Wow” Leonor says. “But do you think she is ready for it too? To stop being the invisible princess like she always says? Because this engagement is gonna be talked about worldwide. The princess and the football player! The fanfic that becomes a reality!” she chuckles.

“Has she shown you the ring she got during our road trip this summer?”

“The plastic one she loves so much?”

“The very same. When I gave it to her I told her it was practice for when I put the real one on her finger” Pedri says. “And since then, we've been talking a lot more about getting married, about how it will be, what will change, discussed it with our therapist… And I think she also is ready, that we both are on the same page.”

“Then it is happening. It's happening!” 

“Leonor, what are you…”

“What happened?” the queen says over the phone.

“Hello to you too, mum” Leonor replies, rolling her eyes.

“Hi, sorry. But what happened? Why are you calling me at lunch time?”

“Is dad with you?”

“Hello!” the king says. “Where are you, Leonor?”

“I'm in Barcelona, visiting Sofía.”

“Oh, is she there? Are you girls out together?” the king asks her.

“I'm out with someone, but not her. Pedri, say hello” she says, turning her phone so it faces him.

“I… Umm… Hello” he says with an awkward smile, hoping her parents can't see that he is blushing. Even though he has known them for years and shared many things with them, sometimes he still goes all shy when he remembers he is talking to the King and Queen of Spain.

“Oh, Pedri!” the queen says. “How are you? Everything ok?”

“Yes, perfect. Thank you for asking. And sorry for interrupting your lunch.”

“Oh, don't worry about that. What happened?”

“Uh?”

“Something must have happened for Leonor to call us and for you two to be having lunch together without Sofía” the queen says.

“Well… I… Umm” he mumbles.

“It's happening, mum” Leonor says, moving the phone so it is facing her again. “He's doing it!”

“He is doing what?” the king asks. 

“He is going to ask Sofía to marry him!”

“No!” the queen gasps as loudly as Leonor earlier. Maybe even louder. “You better not be messing with us.”

“I’m not, mum. I swear. Pedri, tell them” she says, turning her phone again. 

“I… Ummm… Yeah. It's true” he says. “I want to ask Sofía to marry me.”

“He's doing it! He is doing it!” the queen screams.

“I heard you, darling” the king chuckles. 

“Our baby is getting married!”

“First she has to say yes” he chuckles again. “And I have to give Pedri my blessing too.”

“Oh, please” she says, rolling her eyes. “You don't need to do that. It is just a formality, not something you actually have to do, and we live in the 21st century, not the middle ages. Besides, we all know you love him like the son you never had. You are as happy as I am about this. Maybe even more.”

“I am, yes” he smiles. “And even if you don't need it, you have my blessing, Pedri.”

“Thank you, sir” he replies.

“Now, details” the queen says. “Have you chosen a ring? Do you know where you are going to propose? And when? Because we have a trip to South America coming soon and…”

“Mum, relax” Leonor chuckles.

“Sorry, I'm sorry. I am just so happy for them!”

“We can tell, darling” the king says. “But tell us, Pedri. Have you thought of anything?”

“I have not, no” he says. “I was hoping that you and Leonor could help me, because I don't know where to start. I mean, I have some ideas about where I could do it, but the ring? She likes jewellery so much and each piece she owns is so different that I don't know what she could like. And maybe there is like some tradition to follow? A ring to pass from one generation to another? I don't know.”

“I think I have an idea” the king says.

“You?” the queen says, arching an eyebrow.

“Yes, me. Has she ever told you about her favourite painting?”

━━━━━━❃━━━━━━

“I can't believe you managed to close an entire museum to celebrate our anniversary.”

“Perks of being your grandmother's favourite” Pedri winks. “And this is your museum too.”

“What?”

“Reina Sofía?”

“Pedri, this museum was named after my grandmother, not me. We may share the same name, but I've never been and never will be queen.”

“You are the queen of my heart, tho” he smirks.

“Oh… my God” I laugh, my voice echoing on the empty corridors. Or almost empty since I know Carlos is keeping an eye on us from somewhere.

“What? It is the truth” Pedri says before making me twirl and pulling me against his body. “Have I told you yet that you look beautiful tonight?”

“You have, yes” I say, wrapping my hands around his neck while he starts to slowly rock us from side to side. 

We are dancing to no music in the middle of a museum, surronded by art and history eveywhere, and it is… It is the most romantic thing ever.

“Well, you look so beautiful that I have to say it many times so it is accurate.”

“Like me telling you that I love you many times per day and still not being enough to show how much I love you?”

“Exactly” he smiles before making me twirl again. “Should we continue with our tour?”

“I like it here.”

“But I don't like that guy in that painting. It's like he is judging us.”

“If he can read minds, he probably is judging me.”

“You? Why? What is that pretty head of yours thinking about?”

“This pretty head…” I say, moving closer so only he can hear me. “Is thinking about all the things she wants to do to you, and all the things she wants you to do to her once we are alone.”

“Oh… I see.”

“Yep” I smile. “Though that king should not judge me too much since history books say he had like ten lovers and more than twenty bastards besides the five kids with his wife.”

“Really?”

“I mean, the legitimate kids definitely were five, there are records of it. The lovers and the bastards depend on the historian you ask. But everyone agrees on him not being the most faithful of husbands. He was married to one of the most extraordinary women in our history, and he treated her like shit despite being the one who was keeping the kingdom from falling apart while he was hunting, partying and getting drunk with his friends.”

“You aren't his biggest fan, are you?” Pedri chuckles. 

“I am not, no.”

“But you do like his wife.”

“She is one of my favourite historical figures” I smile. “There actually is a painting of her here at the museum that is one of my favourites. Do you want to see it?”

“Of course” he smiles back. “Lead the way, my lady.”

“My lord” I giggle when he takes my hand on his and kisses it.

━━━━━━❃━━━━━━

“She was beautiful.”

“She was, wasn't she?” I say while Pedri and I look at the painting in front of us. “And this is just a painting, so you can imagine how striking she must have been in real life. But she was more than just a pretty face. She was one of the most intelligent women of her time, and like I told you, the country didn't go to hell thanks to her.”

“So she basically was like you, but you have a faithful husband” Pedri winks.

“Oh, shut up” I laugh, giving him a little push. “First of all, you aren't my husband.”

“Yet” he smirks.

“And second, I've done nothing compared to everything she did.”

“Don’t say that, Sofía. You are helping people daily, making them happy and giving them hope, and I still haven't heard anyone complaining about it. And I'm talking about the people that matter, not the trolls online.”

“Yeah, I guess…” I sigh. 

“And if you don't believe me when I tell you that you are alike, just look at all the jewels she's wearing and the ones you are wearing right now. You are only missing the crown!”

“You know, I may like wearing so many things because of her” I chuckle.

“How so?”

“Even though I've always complained about my parents paying more attention to Leonor than me, there was a moment each month where I felt like that wasn't the case, and that was when my dad would bring me here to have something like a date just the two of us. We would visit a different part of the museum each time, but we would always come here and visit her, my dad always telling me something new about her. So I think I like jewellery so much because of all those hours I've spent looking at her and analysing every detail on this painting.”

“So like people say these days, you were influenced by her.”

“Exactly” I laugh.

“Do you have a favourite piece of jewellery she wears? Like one you wish you could have and wear every day if it was possible.”

“That ring” I say, pointing at it. 

“Wow, that was fast” Pedri chuckles.

“I've been obsessed with it since the first time I saw it for some reason. But unlike other pieces like the crown or the earrings, that one went missing. Some say she asked to be buried with it since it was a gift from the love of her life. And no, that wasn't the king.”

“So it was like… an engagement ring?”

“Something like that, yes” I say. “It was a ring that symbolised the love she and that man she loved so much had. A true and pure love that would last forever.”

“Like ours, then” Pedri smiles, kissing my hand again.

“Like ours, yes” I smile back. 

“One that we should also probably… seal, somehow.”

“What?”

“Sofía…” Pedri says, letting go of my hand to pick something that was hiding behind one of the benches on the room. A little box. A… wait. Wait, wait, wait, wait. Is that… Is he… “We always joke about me being the cheesy one in our relationship, but the truth is that when I have to actually be like that and put into words what I feel for you… What you make me feel… Well, I suck” he chuckles. “You actually are the one who has a way with words, the one who can properly express those feelings, not me. So since they say actions are louder than words, that's what I am going to do.”

“Pedri…” I whisper as he gets down on one knee. He's doing it. He is actually doing it, he… Holy shit.

“Sofía… my lady” he says with that smirk that he knows I love, the one I fell in love with the moment I first saw it years ago in Germany. “Would you marry me?”

“Pedri!” I gasp when I see the ring inside the little box. “Is that… is it…”

“We didn't desecrate any grave, don't worry” he chuckles. “This is a new ring, a copy of that one you love so much.”

“But I just told you about it! How did you…”

“Your dad” he smiles. “I didn't know which type of ring you would like because you like different styles, so I asked Leonor and your parents, and he mentioned this ring and this painting you've always been obsessed with.”

“So coming here tonight was my dad's idea?”

“That was all me, he just gave me the inspiration I needed. Going to museums has always been one of our favourite things to do together, this one has your name even if it wasn't named after you, it has your favourite painting of one of your favourite people, and the ring was inspired by it, so I thought it was the perfect place to ask you a question you haven't answered yet.”

“Uh?”

“I asked you a question, Sofía. Remember?”

“Oh, shit, sorry. Yes.”

“Yes…”

“Yes, I want to marry you, Pedri.”

“You do?”

“Of course I do!” I laugh. 

“Great, cool… Cool” he chuckles, his hand shaking as he takes the ring from the little box and takes mine. 

“You know how to do it, Pedri. You already did it once” I tease him, showing him the plastic ring on the other hand.

“I know. But this is the real deal, you know?”

“I know. And I love it.”

“Do you?” he says once the ring is on my finger, his thumb caressing my hand while still holding it.

“I do. I love it almost as much as I love you.”

“Almost?”

“Almost, yes. Because it is impossible to love anything more than I love you, Pedri.”

“I love you too, Sofía. Or should I say…” he says as he wraps one arm around my waist and leans me back like they do in movies. “Fiancée?”

“You should… fiancé” I smirk before he kisses me. “Did you hear that noise?” I whisper when we break apart.

“What?” 

“There is something… Carlos?” I call.

“Sorry, ma'am.”

“Carlos, are you crying?”

“I… I am, ma'am” he says, wiping his tears with the sleeve of his jacket. “It's just… you are getting married.”

“I am, yes” I smile, showing him the ring. 

“It's beautiful, ma'am. You look beautiful. Like, you should see your smile right now. It is the most beautiful smile I've ever seen.”

“Aww, Carlos” I say before hugging him and starting to cry too.

“I'm so happy for you, ma'am. For both of you” he says, awkwardly ending our embrace. 

“Thank you, Carlos” Pedri smiles. “We wouldn't be here if it wasn't because of you, you know? If you hadn't allowed Sofía to leave the Euros party…”

“Yeah” he chuckles. “Though I almost ruined it all when I heard your friends talking and I thought you were only interested in her because of a bet.”

“I actually think that misunderstanding is the reason why we are here” I say.

“What?”

“I don't know if without it Pedri would have been brave enough to tell me that he had had a crush on me for years” I say while giving him a teasing smile, his cheeks turning bright red. “Him being so open and honest with me just after we had met, somehow made me trust him and see that he wasn't like the other guys I had dated. That there were no secret intentions. So thank you, Carlos. And we are sorry for everything you've had to see and deal with over the years.”

“It's ok, ma'am. Just doing my job” he smiles. “Would you like to see the photos I've taken?”

“Photos? What photos?” 

“Carlos may have been our personal photographer and videographer during the night” Pedri says.

“What?”

“I wanted to remember tonight, and basically everyone in your family would kill me if there was no proof of what happened” he shrugs.

“That's… true, yes. Thank you” I say, kissing his cheek. “And thank you again, Carlos.”

“Ma'am” he replies, giving me his phone to check everything. From the sneaky photos he's taken of us smiling at each other throughout the museum, kissing or dancing together, to the video of Pedri getting on one knee and asking me to marry him. Because it happend, it was real. 

Pedri and I are getting married. 

[reflections-in-a-critical-eye]

This will be more of a personal post sprinkled with some thoughts on AYS?!, so for those interested strictly in shipping content, you can skip this.

I couldn't help myself yesterday to wait until my work schedule was done. So I watched the first two episodes during lunch break and work, while using the keyboard from time to time to not appear offline.

And then a second time in the evening, without as many interruptions. I even texted my sister to remind her that the episodes have been released (she has JK's songs on her playlists and that's where it stops). My tone was very casual, as if I just remembered it was already up. As if I haven't actually been thinking and obsessing about that show for a year now. But that's because I can't let this online, fandom "life" seep through my other, "real" one. I've always struggled with my feelings of shame over being part of such spaces. Which is why I avoided them completely. Up until four years ago. I'm still dealing with it. I don't want to tell people that I have an interest in a kpop ship and that it's been ongoing for a few years now. It feels to foreign to the image I allow others to have of me and this kpop stuff is childish to say the least. I've fallen victim to the talking points I've argued against intellectually. But life doesn't work that way. My rational brain doesn't get along with my feelings.

So I keep my thoughts about shipping, fandoms, jikook here. And I share them with friends and people that have a connection to it. It's why I have a blog. So I can post a photo of jikook holding hands at the beginning of their journey and at least 10 people will understand it cause they like the same thing. I'm not a loser on my own here so the thought feels comforting.

I didn't have specific expectations about AYS?!, but I felt happy watching it. It was different, but a good different. Having the opporrtunity to witness them from morning till evening without any interruptions painted an interesting picture and it's the first time to see some parts of their dynamic.

They bicker, they flirt, they get lovingly annoyed, they get bored, they get silent, they get touchy. It feels more real than any 2-min clip from a Memories DVD could possibly show us. I don't want picture perfect jikook because it doesn't exist. Being in stan spaces, all I see everyday is worship, a mentality that is then transfered to the people surrounding the idol. But I don't want JK to worship Jimin 24/7 or vice versa. That's not a real relationship of any kind. I want to see them treat each other like they're just people. Which is what they did. Too bad that some have interpreted that as negative when in fact all we got were clear signs of actual closeness. And nothing beats it like Jungkook's attitude towards Jimin being sick. Shippers/supporters have clips and endless arguments on hand to explain the closeness between jikook, but honestly? That first evening in the cabin when JM was in the bathroom and subsequently the next morning should be the sole argument from now on. It can't be more obvious if it hit us in the head.

It's not about needing confirmation at every step of them being a couple. At least I don't need that. In the long run, it wouldn't even matter if they're not. What's noticeable is that they appear to be one and that doesn't come out of thin air.

Is my mood volatile these days? Yes. Actually these past few months. Do I need this show as one of those feel good series? Definitely, because there's nothing else out there to catch my attention in terms of tv content. I don't want to pick apart and poke holes and question every single line to make myself feel miserable. Everything else is too bad and I am too lame so I rely on this show for a short, temporary thing that improves my mood. I don't care about other things, doubts or worries. I really really just want to enjoy jikook doing whatever they want. I don't have high standards.

[nicodisigma]

since im bored in hospital bed and also im an adult with free will here are my solangelo headcanons that are living in my mind 24/7 and are canon to me:

Will is a very stable vocalist, talented with high notes especially. But a bit lacks music creativity, which is why he was never serious about music career.

He likes doing Linkin Park covers with Austin who is more of a producer + Mike Shinoda here, while Will covers Chester Bennington.

I believe that at some point small baby Will went viral with Country Girl cover (wasn’t hard to accomplish, his mom is famous after all).

Will is into cunty k-pop mainly 2nd and 3rd gen ggs, and likes shinee.

Nico simps for Taemin on Twitter.

Twitter and Pinterest are the only social media Nico knows how to use in 100%.

Every time microwave or toaster do bip bip Nico has a small heart attack.

Sometimes even shouts “Mamamia” out loud.

And orders Will to turn it off.

Chiron, Mr D and cabin 7 are totally okay with Will sleeping in cabin 13 almost everyday, or with Nico sleeping in cabin 7. Mostly because Nico has healthier sleeping schedule when he’s looked after.

Both of them enjoy Maneskin but are also bitter about lack of italian songs in recent years.

Will is often being teasingly asked by other campers if he had already done his duolingo today. Italian duolingo obviously.

Nico bears very unhealthy amount of religious trauma, because of growing up in catholic country in 1920/30s.

Solangelo both join New Rome University at some point, Will is studying medicine and eventually wants to become trauma surgeon. Nico probably chooses some interdisciplinary major connected with latin, history, philosophy and literature.

They share very cool apartment there (their friends are jealous). They also have a black cat which cocoa puffs eventually formed into.

Nico kinda read all Dante Alighieri’s works for fun (in original). And has big classics collection.

Nico is a very fast runner and awesome fighter in evening and at night, since he’s doing small shadow jumps that are so small that no one is really able to spot them. And he doesn’t controll them.

It was hard for Nico to believe that Will really finds him attractive. He gave up with this “he’s faking” allegations, only when he realized Will used(?) to have a celebrity crush on Avril Lavinge, Andy Black and generally tons of emo edgy people and characters.

That’s not everything for sure 🤙🏻

[choicesficwriterscreations]

October Creator of the Month: Tessa-Liam

Please welcome this month’s Creator of the Month: @tessa-liam

Each month, CFWC highlights one of our talented fanfic writers or artists. The writer or artist is selected at random. More info can be found on the navigation page. Past COTMs can be found here.

Tumblr Blog Name: Tessa-Liam

How do you want to be known on Tumblr? Tessa

Quick Links:

Tumblr Blog

Masterlist

1- When did you start playing Choices? What was the first book you played?

Christmas 2017, I was scrolling FB and saw an ad for Choices featuring The Royal Romance Book 1. I downloaded the app and started reading TRR right away.

2- When and why did you join Choices fandom?

I was hooked on that series and was waiting for a new chapter to release. I was desperate for more and my sister suggested that I try searching Tumblr for fanfiction in 2021.

3- How did you pick your blog name?

Liam was my LI, so I joined his name with mine!

4- Pull up the first post in your archive, and tell us about it!

My very first post was the masterlist to @ao719's series ‘The Invitation’. I found her treasure trove of Liam Rys/TRR stories very quickly! I couldn't get enough!

5- Do you write fanfiction, create fan art, or are you one of those really gifted people who do both?

I write fanfiction. I wish I could draw…the best I can do is create moodboards.

6- How long have you been creating for Choices and for any other fandoms?

I started writing my own stories for Choices pretty much at the same time I found the app. Publishing those stories started with prompting and encouragement from Anitah [@ao719] & Emmy [@txemrn]. I posted my first on October 28, 2022, ‘October Weekend Retreat’. I have also written for ‘Game of Thrones’, ‘Twilight’ & ‘The X-files’. These stories are all published on AO3 with other pseudonyms

7- What is your favorite Choices book, and what is your favorite Choices book to create for?

My favorite book(s) to read and create for: The Royal Romance Series. Favorite = book 3

8- Share your first Choices fanfic or fan art that you posted with us. Do you still like it, or would you change it if you were creating it today?

I do still like it! The changes I would make…I would add more ‘Would You Rather’ questions and dialogue.😁

9- What is your favorite piece of fiction or art that you created?

My favorite: ‘All is Fair in Love & War’ …and I won an art commission (my center pic) for it from CFWC, by ArtbyAinna (IG).

10- Do you have a fic/art that you didn’t expect to be well received, but it was? What about one you expected to do well but found it could use a little more love?

I am always honoured whenever anyone takes the time to read, comment, or share my stories!🥰

11- If you could write only angst, fluff, or smut for the rest of your writing life, which would it be and why?

Definitely angst❣️ I love writing/drama about a group of characters in a series with various sub plots and relationships over time.

12 - Do you ever recognize yourself in any of your MCs or in your writing?

Yes! My OC Sophie Taylor from Marabelle.

13 - What element of writing/art do you struggle with most?

Writing…Definitely 😏 smut! ….but practice makes perfect, right!? 😉

14 - Do you have any neglected work you really want to finish?

Oh geez, so much!? My one drive is well stocked! 😂

15 - If someone you know in real life (who isn’t involved in fandoms) asked to see your work, would you let them? If yes, what would you show them first?

Yes! My sister. No, not necessarily…I know she reads AO3, cuz she posts there too!

16 - Are there any writers (published authors and/or fanfic writers) who influenced your writing? Are there any writers that influence you?

Anitah @ao719, my fellow Liam stan definitely inspired me to write TRR stories here on Tumblr. She is a phenomenal writer!💖

17- Which one of your stories would you most like to see as a movie/series?

Marabelle …it's still a W.I.P. right now and I have so much story to tell!

18- Do you write original fiction or create non-fandom art?

I have started a framework for a novel and have created storyboards for it.

19- What other hobbies do you have?

I love horses and am learning dressage. Reading, writing, politics.

20: BONUS - tell us anything you’d like (if you want to)

I adore royalty in real life and follow news on William & Kate. They toured Canada in 2016. I was in Victoria, BC on vacation when they were here, but I couldn't get anywhere near that area of the city. 🤷‍♀️

[the-camp-half-blood-library]

what are some good chat fic/social media fic recommendations you have?

Hey! Here's what we've got :D

paris by @ethannku

[YouTube thumbnail description: A teenage boy, Nico, wears a black leather jacket and black jeans. He stands in front of the Eiffel Tower, his hands in his pockets. He stares at the camera with a deadpan expression. It’s around midday in the photo and there are countless people around him, but somehow he looks separate from them all. To the left of the Eiffel Tower, across the clear blue sky, white block text reads “So. Much. Cheese.” The video is exactly 10 minutes long.] Video Title: going to paris to see if they really hate italians (spoilers: they do) 74k Likes ➦ Share ✂ Clip ☰+ Save ... theghostking ✓ 1.47M subscribers 838k views・1 day ago Or; Nico has a travel YouTube channel. And a crush on one Will Solace.

I'm waiting for it, that green light, I want it by Pondbox

Jason, Will, and Nico all consult Reddit on what to do about Nico and Will's relationship instead of communicating with each other like regular people. r/AmITheAsshole AITA for going to attempt professing my love to my straight best friend? u/sonofapollo r/advice Just realized I am gay and in love with my best friend. u/theghostking

This Family Makes Me Want to Murder People by @theamazingmaddyas

Will created a group chat with Kayla, Austin, Jerry, Yan, Gracie, and Nico Will named the group chat Cabin 7 Group Chat Will: Now that we all have phones, as cabin counselor I decided to make a group chat Don't make me regret this _____ Will: I am beginning to regret this right now

We hope these are in the realm of what you were looking for. These are all incredibly fun so we think you'll enjoy them!!

-Mod 1

[shakespeareanwannabe]

As You Wish, Chapter 7

Summary: When arriving at Camp Silver Star, Abby Floyd was anticipating a summer of adventure with an ocean separating her from the three people she loved most: her mom, her Uncle Bob and her Aunt Natasha. But after a run in with Charlie Seresin, an extremely familiar looking and irritating camper in a different cabin, her summer plans take a turn that neither girl ever could have expected.

Potential Trigger Warnings: reader's children are described as being blond with green eyes because genetics are wild and Jake's genes are strong, reader is canonically Bob's sister (but biological relation is never discussed), reader goes by Buttercup and is tattooed, angst, panic attack, drinking, sadness, reference to divorce, kids doing sneaky things, references to babies, swearing, references to the hospital

Top Gun, almost 12 years ago

When Payback was standing on the tarmac of the training field as they landed, Bob knew it was go time.

It had been odd enough flying without Bagman the past few days; the blond lieutenant opting to take a few days leave as his new wife approached and passed her due date, and Bob found himself almost missing the sarcastic comments shared over comms and the easy way that his new brother-in-law was able to push the other members of their team to their limits. It wasn’t always great for morale, but there was a reason they were the best team the Navy had to offer.

Bob hopped down from his seat behind Natasha and took off running towards Reuben, who he had handed his phone to before takeoff. The older pilot knew a thing or two about impending parenthood and had suggested holding onto the uncle-to-be’s phone, just in case any news broke about the delivery of the twins.

Twins. His sister was having twins. With Hangman. As much as Bob had fought her on her relationship with the cocky aviator, there was no denying how happy the couple had been over the course of the past year. Sure, they had moved fast (too fast, in Bob’s opinion), but that’s the way Hangman operated. His mind moved a million miles an hour in his cockpit, and he saw no reason to slow it down when he was on land.

“Text just came in about ten minutes ago,” Reuben called when Bob was in earshot. “She labored all day and all night, and the girls were born around 2 this morning. Mom and girls are doing fine.”

Bob felt his smile stretch so wide he was surprised his face didn’t break.

“But it’s almost 6 now,” Natasha griped, standing over his left shoulder. “What’s with the hold up?”

Reuben chuckled. “Would you want people all up in your face after over a day of labour and delivery, Phoenix? Or would you want some time to soak up all the lovin’ of those two little angels before you had to share them?”

“I’d want to soak up all the love, that’s the point.”

While Bob tended to agree with her, he knew that this was all part of his sister’s plan. She was a private person at heart and hated being the center of attention. She especially hated feeling like people were waiting on her. So, it made sense that she would’ve held off on announcing the birth of his nieces until she’d had time to adjust.

“Bob, you okay?” Reuben asked, realizing that the WSO hadn’t said a single word since landing. “You with me?”

Bob nodded, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose. “Thanks, Payback.” He reached out and took his phone back from the older member of their team.

He grinned and patted him on the shoulder. “You wish the new parents congratulations from me and Maryanne, alright? We’ll be by to visit when we’re allowed. But it sounds like you’ve got permission already, Bob.”

Bob glanced down at the message from Hangman, which did indeed invite him to the hospital to meet the newest members of his family.

“C’mon,” Natasha held up her car keys. “I’m driving.”

“You—”

“Probably wasn’t invited, was I?” his partner smirked. “But you’re shaking like a leaf, so I’m doing the team a favour and driving you. And, if I get to meet the babies before Javy and Rooster, that’s even better.”

London, England, 24 hours ago

Charlie sat at the high round kitchen table, poking at the cheese and crackers she had assembled for her midday meal as Auntie Nat raced around the kitchen, half a bagel stuffed in her mouth as she prepped her coffee.

When she’d woken up that morning, Uncle Bob had been halfway out the door for work. A schedule that consisted of bouncing from London to Frankfurt to Barcelona and, finally, home ensured that he would be home in time for Jeopardy and dinner but had left her with her surly aunt and her mom, who had been locked into Zoom meetings all morning in her office. Not that she was complaining. While the first few days had been a difficult adjustment, dealing with the time change and the customs of her new home, she absolutely adored her life in London. Her Uncle Bob was just as awkward and funny as she had been told, Auntie Nat was everything she had ever wanted in an aunt, and her mom? Her mom was better than she had ever dreamed. They had spent hours together, reading together and tossing ideas around about Mum’s latest book, going out to eat, watching trashy reality shows while eating ice cream. Mum kept reminding her that things would go back to normal when she went back to school but wanted to keep things loose for the last few weeks of summer because she had missed her so much. It was kind of nice to have a relaxing morning at home with her aunt while waiting for her mom to be freed from work.

“Alright, kid, I’m off,” Auntie Nat announced, breezing past her with her arms loaded down with gym equipment and water bottles. “Have fun with your mom tonight, and remind her to eat something before her book signing, okay? You don’t want to deal with a hangry Buttercup, believe me.”

Charlie grinned at her as Nat paused in front of the large mirror next to the door, putting down a water bottle to touch up the makeup that concealed the angry red edges of the scar that bisected her left eye, a remnant from the battle that had taken Maverick’s life and Natasha’s clearance to fly. Abby had told her that Nat still got self-conscious about the scar and warned her not to stare too much at it, but that hadn’t been a problem. She’d seen worse scars on the cowboys and cowgirls who worked on the ranch. Hell, one of their best breeding experts was a man with four fingers on one hand and only one ear. Scars didn’t exactly scare her.

“I will. Have fun at work!” Nat winked at her through the mirror before gathering her belongings and jetting through the door, allowing it to fall closed with a thud.

Feeling a short, staccato vibration in her pocket, Charlie tugged out her phone and checked for any new message from Abby. Her sister (it still thrilled her to be able to say those words) had been keeping her up to date on the ranch and the lives of the men who lived there. Last they had spoken, Abby had been excited about going on a trail ride with dad, and Charlie had shared a few tips on how to navigate Jake’s favourite trail. They both hoped that the trail ride would be a good opportunity for Abby to start digging into what went wrong with their parent’s marriage, while Charlie was angling for an opening to bring up the same topic with their mother. Thus far, all attempts had been foiled on both their parts, but neither of them was willing to give up without a fight.

Charlie clicked onto the messaging app and read the most recent message.

A: Does dad have a girlfriend?

Charlie snorted. Sure, she’d heard rumors about her dad from Rooster and Javy, how he had all the ladies drooling when he was in the Navy, but that couldn’t be further from the truth now. Besides, there was no way her father could hide a whole girlfriend from her.

C: LOL no he’s got no game

But…those rumors had to have started somewhere. And her father, as dorky as he was, had managed to date and marry her mom, who was the coolest woman Charlie had ever met. And she’d been gone for six weeks at camp. If so much had changed for her in those six weeks, there was no telling what could have changed at her home in Texas.

C: Why??? 👀

Abby’s response was sent almost immediately, as though Abby had had the message waiting to send.

A: Because there’s a random blond lady hanging out in the kitchen and he’s calling her baby

Charlie bit her lip. It didn’t sound like her dad…then again, her dad hadn’t done much dating because he’d been busy with her and the ranch. Still, he wouldn’t just hide a girlfriend from her, would he? Feeling a dark cloud begin to drift over her head, she replied.

C: You sure it’s him and not Rooster?

C: Uncle Roo has lots of hookups 🤢

A: Pretty sure I know what he looks like, thanks 🙄

Charlie tamped down a bolt of anger. It wasn’t Abby’s fault. She was just looking for information and they’d both inherited their mother’s penchant for sarcasm with their father’s ego. Abby didn’t deserve to have her head chewed off just because Charlie was asking stupid questions.

C: You didn’t until a couple of weeks ago, smartypants

“Hey babe, sorry about that!”

Charlie nearly threw her phone across the room as her mom came into the kitchen, dressed in a stylish pair of black palazzo pants and a pretty cream coloured sleeveless top.

“H-hi mum!” Charlie chirped, flipping her phone face down and grinning.

“You okay?” Buttercup’s brow furrowed.

“Fine! I was just looking up restaurants around the bookstore. Auntie Nat wanted me to remind you to eat before the book signing.” Charlie flipped the little switch on her phone to shut off notifications as Abby’s replies started buzzing in.

Buttercup rolled her eyes fondly. “Listen, a girl gets hangry one time, after 27 hours of labor and not being allowed to eat due to archaic hospital policies, and she’s never allowed to live it down.”

Charlie grinned. “But would you really want to get hangry a second time in front of your adoring public?”

Buttercup grinned. “I suppose not. But it would make for one heck of a story, wouldn’t it?” Despite her words, Buttercup dug into the fridge and pulled out a slice of leftover pizza, taking a large bite as she leant against the marble countertop next to the sink. “You know, you don’t have to come with me to the book signing, love. It’ll be super boring, and I could just have a driver pick you up and bring you to the restaurant by the theatre for dinner. I’d come get you myself but you know me. Once I walk back in the door tonight, it’s yoga pants and ice cream for me.”

“No, mum. I want to come!”

Buttercup fixed her with a look as she took another bite of pizza. “You do? You want to sit and watch me talk about the book I can’t finish and sign my name a gazillion times instead of staying home and doing whatever the cool 12-year-old girls are doing?”

“Yep!” Buttercup’s suspicious look lingered as she polished off her pizza. “What? Can’t a girl want to hang out with her mum over summer holiday?”

“She can…but she also hasn’t seen her friends since she left for camp. Are you sure you don’t want to invite Madison or Brooklyn over while I’m at work?”

Charlie was already shaking her head. “I missed you, mum. I want to spend more time with you before I go back to school. Besides, I’m almost 12. I’m not going to want to hang out with you forever.”

“Oof, right for the guilt trip,” Buttercup grinned as she washed her hands. “Alright, lady, if you’re sure, you’d better go get dressed for a day out on the town.”

Charlie grinned and hopped up from her seat. “Give me ten minutes!”

Grabbing her phone, she raced up the stairs and started pulling on the outfit she had chosen for the day, checking her hair, and brushing her teeth. Satisfied with her appearance, she pulled her phone out and checked her messages from Abby.

A: Thanks for the reminder

A: Are you sure he doesn’t have a girlfriend?

A: He wants to talk to me about something

A: What if it’s her?

A: Charlie?

Charlie sighed, feeling only slightly guilty about leaving her sister in the lurch. But whatever issues Abby was facing, whatever conversation Jake wanted to have with her, Charlie was an ocean away and couldn’t really do anything to help. Besides, it couldn’t be a girlfriend. Dad wouldn’t have hidden something like that from her.

C: Sorry, gotta go! Mom’s taking me to one of her book signings, and then we’re going to dinner and a show! Good luck!

Before Abby could start to type back, Charlie shut off her phone and threw it into the purse she had chosen to take with her. Whatever was going on in Texas, Charlie was confident that her sister could handle it.

“…and that’s why I believe that, no matter how dark your content is, your story should always end with a glimmer of hope,” Buttercup smiled from her comfortable seat on the slightly raised stage at the back of the bookstore, and Charlie clapped along with the audience. It looked like hundreds of people had turned out for the event celebrating her mother’s works, each of them clamoring for a look at the notoriously private author who didn’t even have her picture in the backs of her books.

“Alright, it looks like we’ve got time for one more question,” the moderator said, peering out over the audience. “You, in the pink paisley shirt. What is your question?”

The young woman down the row from Charlie stood up and accepted the microphone. “Hi, my name’s Lisa. I was just wondering about the timeline of your books. You say that you’ve been writing since you were a kid, but your first book wasn’t published until 7 years ago. What was it that finally prompted you to publish your book?”

Charlie watched her mother stiffen slightly before turning an almost plastic smile to the audience. “That’s a great question, Lisa, thank you. Unfortunately, that’s just the way this industry goes sometimes. An author can spend years, decades even, revising and editing their work before a publisher will even agree to take a look at it. Besides that, I also had a lot going on in my life that…prevented me from writing as much as I wanted to. But just over a decade ago, I was faced with personal difficulties that forced me to sit and pour my thoughts out onto the page. It took some time after that to organize my thoughts into a comprehensible narrative, but that’s what ended up becoming my first book, The Things We Hold Onto.”

Lisa raised the microphone, probably to try to engage with Buttercup further, but the moderator quickly stepped in. “Thank you so much for your questions. We’ll be taking a five-minute break before the book signing begins. If you’d all like to queue up at the table, that would be wonderful. Thank you.”

The crowd quickly dispersed, and Charlie fought her way through them to stand at the bottom of the stage as her mom stepped down.

“Thanks, Diane,” she shook the moderator’s hand.

“Don’t mention it,” she replied with a wink. “I’m just doing my job. Now, I’m going to go set up the table for the signing, and I’ll see you in five minutes.”

She walked off and Buttercup turned to her with a sigh, hugging her close. “You sure you made the right call, coming to work with me? I’m bored and it’s my writing I’m talking about.”

Charlie giggled. “I’m sure.”

“You’re one weird kid,” Buttercup commented, pressing a kiss to her daughter’s hair. “But I’m so glad you’re mine. I love you.”

Charlie felt her heart beam in her chest. “I love you too.” Charlie watched as her mom guzzled a water bottle, chewing on her bottom lip as she considered her next words. “Mum…what was it that kept you from writing?” Water sputtered from Buttercup’s mouth as she coughed. “Was…was it me?”

Buttercup wiped her mouth, cleared her throat, and tugged her close again. “God, no, babe. Not you. Never you.”

“Then…was it dad?” Charle bit her lip so hard she could almost taste blood. She couldn’t imagine a world where Jake Seresin was anything but supportive of those around him, but she also couldn’t imagine a world where her father had lied to her for her entire life, so, clearly, she didn’t know everything.

Buttercup sighed heavily. “I promised you I would tell you about your dad, and I haven’t forgotten. At dinner, okay? I’ll answer all your questions at dinner.”

Charlie nodded slowly, not meeting her gaze. “Okay.”

“I’ve got to get over there,” Buttercup nodded to the queue. “Dinner. I promise.”

“Okay, mum.”

Buttercup took a few steps and turned back to her. “It wasn’t your father either, babe. Okay?”

Charlie felt the knot in her chest slacken slightly and she brightened. “Okay, mum. Go kill it!”

Buttercup winked and strode off, her head held high.

A few hours later, the queue had been cleared and Buttercup and Charlie sat in a comfortable booth at Café Murano in Covent Gardens. Their glasses of water had barely been placed on the table before Charlie leaned forward.

“Mum?”

Buttercup sighed and placed the menu to the side. “Alright, babe. I’ve made you wait long enough. What do you want to know?”

“If dad didn’t stop you from writing, what did?”

Buttercup traced a finger around the lip of her water glass. “A bunch of things, I suppose. My life with your father was…fast paced. We met, fell in love, and got pregnant with you in the span of what? Three months, give or take? I had been living in New York, getting my Masters in creative writing one minute, and the next I was moving into your dad’s apartment in San Diego. I got so swept up in the whirlwind that my writing kind of fell by the wayside. It’s okay. It happens.”

“So…what made you start writing again?”

Buttercup shrugged. “I moved here with you, and I had no other creative outlet. Bob and Nat were still in the Navy, so I didn’t have them to lean on. I had no friends here; I didn’t know any of my coworkers. It was just me and you, so I would write when you were napping. I just poured everything I was feeling into a word document and, eventually, a narrative started to take shape. It took a while, but I was eventually able to take it to the publishing company I worked for, and they agreed to publish it.”

“Why did you move here? I though you and Uncle Bob grew up in Minnesota?”

“We did,” Buttercup took a swig of water. “I got a job offer here not long after you were born, so I took it when your father and I split up.” Buttercup flagged down a passing waiter. “Could I get a glass of rosé, please? Thank you.”

“Did you split up because of the job offer?” Charlie felt her heart racing in her chest. Every question she’d ever asked (or wanted to ask) her father was battling in her mind, all of them racing to be the first to come out.

Buttercup smiled wryly. “Not exactly. Well…maybe. Kind of. I don’t know, babe. It’s complicated adult stuff.”

“But I’m almost an adult,” Charlie commented, leaning closer. “I turn 12 in a few months.”

Buttercup tilted her head. “You do indeed.” The waiter placed the tall glass of pink wine on the table and Buttercup took a long sip. “Abby, honey…I know why you feel curious about your father. It’s natural to wonder about a man you’ve never met. But…” Another sip disappeared down her throat. “There are just some things that are too complicated to explain. There was a lot going on at the time, and we had gotten together so quickly, and we were juggling parenthood with our jobs, and…” Charlie felt her face flush as her mother’s breathing stuttered, tears welling in her eyes. “Some things…just don’t work out. There are some things in life that you just can’t hold onto, no matter how badly you might want to. It made more sense for us to split up and for you to come with me than for us to keep fighting the way we were.”

Charlie sagged against her side of the booth. So much information, and nothing to do with it. Her mom was clearly just as messed up from the divorce as her dad was, but neither of them were willing to talk it out with their children or with each other. She felt a flash of disappointment in her gut, but she smothered it. She loved her mom and her dad, and she yearned for them to be able to fix things between them, but it was okay that they weren’t willing to do the leg work on their own. That’s what her and Abby were there for. Even if their plan didn’t end with their parents back together, at least they wouldn’t be able to hide their children from each other anymore. That would have to be the main goal.

“Abby?”

Charlie looked up into her mother’s wide eyes. “Yeah mum?”

“I said I’m sorry,” Buttercup bit her lip. “I’ll try to figure out a way to explain it all to you one day, I promise.”

“It’s okay, mum,” Charlie smiled lightly. “I know I sprung it on you. We can talk more when you’re ready.”

Buttercup sighed and squeezed her hand. “I don’t know what I did to deserve you, Abigail Juliet Floyd, but I’m so glad you’re my girl.”

“And I’m glad you’re my mum.”

Buttercup smiled tearily before picking up her menu. “You know what, babe? What do you say we break the rules and have dessert first?”

“I’d say that sounds awesome.”

Charlie yawned as she crawled into bed that night, ABBA songs still ringing in her ears. Dessert, dinner, and their performance of Mamma Mia had been an awesome time, but it was so late that she wished she could just fall asleep the second her head hit the pillow. But, in an effort to be a responsible sister, she dug her phone out of her purse and turned it on instead, searching for any new messages from her sister across the ocean.

When her search turned up empty, she opened Instagram and found her father’s profile, scanning through the photos of Abby, Jake, Javy and Rooster. She felt a pang of longing to be back in her familiar surroundings with the people she loved most, but the anger and hurt she still felt over her father’s betrayal pushed that pang back.

Still, she studied the most recent photo, a selfie of Abby, Jake and Javy at the high school football field, posted only the previous day. They all looked so happy together, her dad’s arm wrapped around Abby’s shoulders as Javy struck a ridiculous pose in the background. No matter what the outcome of their switch was, it was worth it. Abby was clearly enjoying getting to know their father, and Charlie loved her mother more now than she ever had before. Sure, they might get punished once they were found out, but getting to know their parents was completely worth the potential trouble they were in.

The staccato vibration of her phone pulled her from her musing, Abby’s face lighting up the screen. She mashed the green button with her thumb, holding the phone up to her ear. “Hello?”

“Dad’s getting married!” She pulled the phone away from her ear quickly as Abby shouted down the receiver. “He got engaged to some blond woman who looks like she’s half his age!”

“Abby?” she couldn’t help the yawn that escaped her. “What are you talking about?” Dad? Engaged? Without introducing her (or Abby, in this case) to the woman? Impossible.

“I told you! The blond woman from this morning is wearing a rock the size of my head and hanging off of dad! She said that they’re getting married, and he confirmed it!”

Charlie’s stomach dropped and the cannoli and pizza she’d consumed earlier rose in her throat. “Wh…what? No! It…it’s not possible!”

“Except that it is! He told me it was happening whether I liked it or not!” Charlie’s throat worked to dislodge the tears that were silencing her, but, even if they went away, her mind could think of no words to make the situation better. “Would you say something, please?”

Say what, exactly? Her dad hadn’t been on a date in 12 years, always claiming to be too busy. Between the ranch and parenting his daughter, there weren’t enough hours in the day. Charlie had heard him explain that to Rooster and Javy more times than she could count, so what was this, exactly? He got engaged to someone and never thought that his daughter should be able to meet the woman who would be moving into their home?

Tear after tear traced delicate lines down her face, and she worked to keep her sobs silent, mindful of her aunt, uncle, and mother sleeping in the surrounding rooms.

“What do you want me to say, Abby?” she whispered. “Dad’s getting married, and he didn’t bother to even introduce her to me.”

Abby’s tinny sigh echoed through the receiver. “I know…”

Clutching Abby’s pink bunny close, she trembled as she groaned, “But he loves mom! I know he does! You don’t shut down that often about a person if you don’t care about them!”

“He shut down on me today too,” Abby agreed. “But it’s not like I can just tell him that he loves her. He would never go for that.”

“Can you find something to prove it?” For once, Charlie didn’t care that she sounded desperate. One of the best days of her life was somehow turning into a nightmare, and she needed it to stop. “Something to remind him?”

“Like what?”

“I dunno…a photo? Their marriage license? Anything that might remind him of her?”

“Where would I even find something like that?”

“In the office in the stable.”

Charlie heard Abby rustling around. “I’m there right now, I don’t see anything.”

“In the safe under his desk. Or in the filing cabinet. I don’t know the code to the safe or where he keeps the key to the cabinet though.”

Abby sighed again. “I’ll figure it out. I’ll let you know what I find.”

“Thanks…” Charlie sighed, wiping her eyes on the pink bunny’s fur. Come to think of it, she had an identical bunny at home, just in purple. “I’m sorry you have to deal with that while I’m having fun with mum.”

“It’s okay. Do…do you think mum still loves dad?”

Charlie rolled her eyes through her tears. “Abby, all her adult books are about a military guy falling in love with the woman of his dreams and the obstacles that keep them apart. She either loves him or she doesn’t know what else to write about.”

That much she knew was true. The whole reason her mother’s latest book hadn’t been turned in for publishing yet was because her mom had no clue how to reunite the two main characters, who were separated by duty to family and country.

“What if you’re wrong?” Abby whispered to her.

“I…” Charlie swallowed hard. “I don’t want to think about that. Find proof. I’ll find proof too. Then we’ll tell them about the switch.”

“Okay.”

“Okay. Good luck.”

“You too.”

Charlie hit the red button and let her phone slip out of her trembling hand. Her dad was getting married. To a woman she had never met before. Did he not care about how she would feel? Did he not think of her at all when he made the decision to get down on one knee? Did he think of Abby? Or their mother? What if he never thought about them? What if this whole idea was just one terrible bomb waiting to go off in their faces? What if, every time he shut down her questions about her mother, he was actually angry? What if she had misread the situation so terribly that it would have untold consequences when he found out about the switch?

Charlie felt herself begin to tremble more and struggled to take a deep breath.

Water. She needed water. That’s what her dad brought her every time her emotions took over like this. He would bring her a cool glass of water and hold her tight until the panic subsided. She may not be able to have her dad’s strong arms around her, but water she could do.

Stumbling out of bed, she quietly made her way downstairs, willing her legs to stop shaking long enough for her to get that glass of water.

She made it as far as the kitchen island before her legs gave out and she sunk to the floor in the dim light, her tears now flooding her face, her throat unable to even sob against the pressure building up inside her.

“Shhh, Charlie…it’s okay, sweetheart,” a pair of strong arms scooped her up and cradled her against a firm chest. She nuzzled into that chest, allowing her tears to soak into the white cotton t-shirt. A large hand smoothed over her hair and she felt her rescuer sit down on the couch, rocking her slightly. “It’s okay, honey. Let it all out. You’re okay, Charlie. You’re safe.”

Minutes, or perhaps hours later, she hiccupped and wiped her eyes, cradled like an infant in those arms that…were not her father’s, as her destressed mind had thought. She froze, and her rescuer sighed, lifting her slightly to lean her against the back of the couch.

Uncle Bob’s hand never left her back as she settled into a less cramped position, his hair ruffled and his glasses slightly askew. “It’s okay, Charlie,” he whispered. “Whatever’s going on in your brain can’t hurt you. We’ll find a way to fix it and, if we can’t, we’ll find a way to help you cope with it.”

Charlie blinked. He…he was calling her Charlie. He was calling her by her actual name. But…how did he…

“H-how long have you known?” she whispered, her heart settling back into a normal rhythm despite her sudden terror that her uncle would out her and ruin this before they were able to come up with a solid plan.

Bob shrugged in response. “Since the airport.”

“Buffalo or Heathrow?”

He grinned slightly, shrugging again. “Buffalo.”

Charlie groaned. “Tell me we had at least gotten on the plane first?”

“If I did that, I’d be lying.”

Charlie blinked up at him as she shifted to face him, curling her legs beneath her. “B-but…but you haven’t told anyone.”

Bob adjusted his glasses. “No, I haven’t.”

“But…why?”

Bob stared at her, his green eyes gleaming. “Because I trusted you and Abby have a good reason for this. And because your mother deserves to hear it from you, not from me. She’s missed you every day for 12 years. Far be it for me to steal that reunion from her.”

“I’m going to tell her. I swear. I just…Dad’s getting married,” she sniffled. “I don’t know if I can go home and face that right now.”

Bob reached out and gently tilted her head back so he could meet her eyes. “What did I just say? Whatever is happening, we’ll fix it together. And, if we can’t, we’ll find a way to cope with it together. Okay? That’s how this family works.”

Charlie nodded, eyes welling up again. “Thanks, Uncle Bob.”

“You’re welcome, sweetheart.” Bob opened his arms and she leaned into the hug, feeling safe and warm for the first time since she’d gotten back from the theatre. “You have to tell her though, Charlie. Tomorrow.”

She found herself nodding. “Tomorrow.”

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[oonajaeadira]

Okay, who wants to hear about today's moment of magic?

Long story under the cut.

So the SO and I are getting married next month. It's really not a big deal, we're literally going down to the courthouse with @feathersandfoxtails and another bestie on the anniversary of our first date, signing the papers and doing an at-the-counter ceremony. We've been together for 14 years and own a house and a dog together. When it comes to loving and pledging our lives to each other, it's something we've grown into and we choose each other every day. Our families know we're good for life, so there's really no reason to spend a bunch of money on a ceremony. We've got everything we need, we go on "honeymoons" all the time, and we're both theater people, so it's just another event to plan and stage manage and produce and honestly, we'd both just rather put on another show with that cash than have our moms get nuts about invite lists and catering choices.

ANYWAY. With 2025 looming and all the uncertainty it's bringing, I just want it to be official in the eyes of the state so that's never a question. This dude goes up to the cabinland by himself and builds cabins 7 feet off the ground and runs chainsaws and such. If he ends up in the hospital, I don't want to be turned away from holding his hand through an amputation, you know? He's the most honest, trustworthy, good-hearted man I've ever met (if not sometimes frustratingly stubborn about being right all the damn time), and we share the same taste in just about everything. He's an inch shorter than Pedro with shoulders just as broad and eyes just as brown and a good mix of Frankie and Pero and Din and he puts up with my weirdness and I'm not letting him go.

So at one point he asks me if I'd like a ring. And I said no, mostly because I have a million rings and I like to switch them out and I'm not going to be taking up a good finger with one ring forever. My ladybits may be monogamous, but I'm not forcing that on any of my fingers. (That came out wrong. Oh well.) Besides, he's in carpentry. He doesn't like jewelry, much less wear it.

"I would for you," he said.

Cue melting.

But. Also. Another unnecessary expense. (Also, in true mischief fashion, I want to keep the marriage a secret just to see the looks on people's faces when someone like my nosy aunt's like "when you getting married?" and I can say, "oh, we are. Anyway. Pass that turkey...")

And that was that. Until I saw the script they walk you through at the courthouse.

At first glance, it's pretty short, literally an exchange of "do you?/ I dos" and exchange of rings and signing of the certificate by all the parties. No changes allowed, no vows, no "you may kiss," just cut and dry, like 2 minutes tops.

*record scratch* Exchange of rings. No changes. Aw hell.

Cue my online auction addiction. Did I mention that I have an online auction addiction? Surprise! There's a lot of lakeside property in Minnesota and rich folks come and go, passing on or downsizing or whatnot, and there's always fun estate sales going on, which is where I get a lot of my instruments and fun witchy supplies.

Literally the day I read that marriage script and was wondering if I could just fish out some rings from my jewelry box to suffice, this auction came up:

What you are looking at are two antiquities, Viking-era brass rings circa 850 - 1050 CE, the gold plating is pitted and old, but they've been restored and preservation-sealed. I did a lot of research on them and the company that they came from (as well as digging up info on antiquities/museum relations and dealers that may come in handy for a Thief fic at one point), and they're the real deal.

The sizes weren't listed (they were packaged in conservation envelopes, the box is mine) and so I lowballed a bid and was surprised that nobody outbid me. That never happens.

I told the SO that I'd won them and he's like, cool, how do you know they'll fit? I said I didn't. They're not meant to be worn. We use them for the ceremony and then shadowbox and display them nicely. If they don't really fit properly, that's okay, they're only there to fulfill the script. I'm not really getting a fancy dress or anything like that, so we might as well have one little piece of magic on the day. I just thought ancient Viking rings would be cool because he loves history and I've got me some Scandinavian blood and Viking thighs.

But y'all. The magic continues. Because I picked them up today...

And they fit us. Exactly. I'm kinda freaking out about it.

Even my atheist SO looked at me and said, "Hot damn. It's like it's meant to be."

Damn straight, boyfriend. Damn straight.