#as you can see i love it when they all sit near campfire

[monster-effer]

Camping Trip Gone Wild - Caleb x reader

Summary: Caleb invites you to a camping trip and you two are having a great time. But, after snooping through your phone, his jealous side makes itself known. R.I.P. to your pussy!!! Content: MDNI, explicit smut, Caleb and reader are dating, slight dubcon but the reader is definitely into it, questionable use of evol, oral - f receiving, fingering, pet names used: pip-squeak, princess, my love (2.2k wc) A/N: Caleb has been running laps around my mind lately, so I had to write something with him in it. I hope y’all enjoy ♡

You’re shopping at a local farmer’s market when you feel your phone buzz in your pocket. When you unlock it, you are pleasantly surprised to see a text from Caleb. He’s usually wrapped up in his work at this time.

Colonel Apple: Hey pip-squeak. You’re free this weekend right? You: Maybe. Depends on what you have planned.

You watch the typing indicator go on and off for a few moments before locking your phone and continuing to peruse the produce at the local farmer’s market. When you have a bag full of fruits and vegetables you feel your phone buzz once again.

Colonel Apple: We haven’t been camping together yet. Let’s change that? You: Hell yeah, I’m in. What do I need to bring besides clothes and toiletries? Colonel Apple: I have the rest covered. Just bring yourself 😊

The rest of the week passed by at an excruciatingly slow pace. But you have just arrived at the camping site with Caleb and all your supplies in tow. Before you can ask, he starts putting together a chair for you to sit on. When he’s done, he wordlessly gestures towards it as if saying ‘It’s all yours’.

You plop down into the chair and cross your legs. Then you enjoy the rocking motion of your new seat as you watch him work his magic. You were more tired than you thought because the next thing you notice is Caleb gently shaking you awake, his face close to yours and his eyes filled with warmth.

“Welcome back princess.”

You yawn and blink a few times to adjust your vision. When you look around, you see Caleb has made significant progress while you were napping. There is now a huge tent set up to the right side of the campsite. And a second camping chair assembled near a table with cooking supplies neatly organized on top of it.

There are fairy lights hanging in the nearby trees and looped around the top of your tent, giving your campsite a cozy glow. The smell of burning wood and the sound of a crackling fire catches your attention next.

“Why didn’t you wake me up? I could have helped with something.”

Caleb softly chuckles “I did say that I have everything covered. And you need to relax more, your job as a hunter has you running around all over Linkon.”

You huff and cross your arms because you can’t really argue with that logic. So instead, you decide to change the subject.

“I’m hungry. Let’s make dinner and tell some spooky stories around the fire.”

You two roast some hot dogs and settle down on opposite ends of the campfire. Then Caleb launches into a dramatic tale. By the end of it, you’re gasping with laughter at how cheesy the ending to his story was.

Noticing that it is getting dark out, a question comes to mind.

“Can you remind me where the public showers are again? I want to wash up before we go to sleep tonight.”

Caleb points towards the main road near your camping spot and tells you how to get there. “Do you want me to walk you there?”

“No, I’ll be alright. I’m taking a flashlight with me.”

Caleb hums as he watches you gather your pajamas and toiletries. He pulls his camping chair closer to the crackling fire and is about to settle down into it when he hears your phone’s notification sound go off.

He decides to ignore it, but the notification sound pings once more, and then three more times after that. Since you won’t be back for a while, you can’t blame him for being curious about who is bombarding his girlfriend with texts at this hour.

Caleb abandons his plan to chill by the fire and walks over to the tent. He removes his shoes before climbing in and looking for your bag. Once he finds it, he digs around a bit before finding your phone.

From the home screen he can see that all the notification sounds were coming from one source. They were all texts from Rafayel, who you have saved as  ‘The Little Mermaid’ in your phone. Since you two reunited after his “death”, Caleb begrudgingly accepted that he cannot be your only source of social fulfillment. His work as a colonel keeps him busy for long stretches of time, sometimes you two aren’t able to chat more than once a week.

Caleb is stone faced as he unlocks your phone with your password (that he memorized) and begins reading through the recent messages you received. His curiosity over what warranted back-to-back texts needed to be sated, for his own sanity.

His jaw clenched hard as he read Rafayel’s overly familiar texts.

7:10 pm: are u busy this upcoming week 7:10 pm: need you to be my model for this piece i’m working on 7:15 pm: cutieeeeee dun you want to help me 7:16 pm: i’ll take you out for seafood if you agree 7:18 pm: 💔🥺? 🐟🐠🐡

Caleb is always one to compliment your beauty, but the dark feeling of jealousy fills his chest at the thought of the artist eye balling you for hours on end. Before he can read further up in the text thread, he hears footsteps approaching the campsite.

Not wanting to be caught snooping, he quickly stashes your phone back in your bag and sits in his camping chair. He closes his eyes and tries to relax his body despite the fury bubbling under his skin over the artist taking up your time while he’s not there.

“I’m back. All fresh and clean now.”

When he opens his eyes, he hopes his true feelings aren’t shining through. Although he was left almost void of emotions after his chip implantation, Caleb can feel his anger towards the needy artist increasing by the second. He can also feel that anger transforming into a burning need to re-establish what you mean to each other.

Meanwhile as you stand there you can feel that something is…off. As hard as he tries to hide it, you can read Caleb’s emotions better than anyone else.

“I didn’t know you were so well acquainted with that artist…Rafayel,” he spits out his name as if it pains him to utter it.

You’ve mentioned Rafayel in passing but you aren’t entirely sure where this is coming from.

“Rafayel is a close friend of mine, what about it?” You snap at him, beginning to lose your patience.

Caleb smiles coldly before responding. “From the texts I just read, it seems like you two spend a lot of time together. I think I need to remind you of something.”

You feel anger well up in your body. “Why were you reading my texts Caleb? What the hell. And I think you need to be reminded of something called privacy.”

Before you can chew him out, the unmistakable weight of his evol envelopes your body. You gasp as you’re lifted then held up mid air, as Caleb pulls your camping chair towards him. As you futilely attempt to struggle against the hold, he lets your body slowly descend into the chair and stares into your eyes.

“As I was saying, I’m going to remind you that you only need to rely on me.”

“Let. Go. Of. Me,” you say through clenched teeth.

He ignores your demand and drops to his knees before you. Your breath catches in your throat as he spreads your legs and places butterfly kisses on the tender skin of your inner thighs.

You are furious with him for so many reasons, but at this moment, you can’t stave off the arousal building in your tummy.

Caleb begins to suck small hickeys on your skin between peppering kisses all the way up your thighs. You muffle a whine as tingles of pleasure zap straight to your clit. His face is so close to where you can feel your arousal pooling in your underwear. Your thighs are a sensitive spot, and he knows that. If you weren’t weighed down by his evol right now you weren’t sure if you’d be squirming away (or towards?) the torturous pleasure.

“Caleb,” you whimper.

Your voice broke the trance Caleb fell into between your legs. His eyes have darkened when they meet yours once again.

“Yes, princess?”

“M-More please.”

He smirks and doesn’t say a word before forcefully moving your pajama shorts and underwear to the side and licking a long stripe between your glistening folds. His hot tongue is wreaking havoc on your throbbing clit and you all but scream out into the night.

“Oh my god, please please please release your evol. I need to move.”

He detaches from your clit to respond to you. The bottom half of his face is noticeably covered in your slick. And his eyes have a hungry look in them.

 “No can do pip-squeak, you aren’t running from this.”

You let out a high-pitched moan as Caleb leans back in and alternates between dragging his tongue over your clit and making out with your pussy lips.

You take in a sharp breath as you feel tension build up in your belly. Your pussy begins to flutter around nothing.

“C-caleb I’m going to-”

He cuts you off by slipping his middle and ring finger inside of your wet hole. The squelching sound emitting from his ministrations seem amplified by the otherwise quiet night. You can only handle him pumping his fingers inside of you a few times before you reach orgasm.

You almost black out from the overwhelming euphoria as your pussy spasms around the sudden invasion of his fingers. You moan wantonly as Caleb slowly fingers you through your climax.

As you come down from that high, he gently pulls out his fingers. As a small act of mercy, he dissipates his evol and lets your muscles fully relax into the chair. He also pulls down your pajama shorts and undies, leaving your bottom half exposed.

“I hope you’re ready for more, because I’m far from done with you.”

You’re still trembling from the impact of your orgasm as you watch him stand up and remove his shorts and underwear. His thick cock twitches as the cool night air hits it. You hungrily watch his right hand wrap around it and give it a few strokes.

Caleb bends his knees and uses the swinging chair as leverage to line up your pussy with his body. You feel him rub his hot, mushroom tip against your clit and teasingly around your opening.

You shudder at his teasing and consider begging for more. But before you can, he slides himself all the way inside you without warning.

Your hands scramble for purchase before gripping the chair’s headrest. Both of you moan at the sudden, intense sensation.

“I’m so full” you whine as you clench your eyes shut.

He groans and readjusts his hold on the chair.

“Hold on tight pip-squeak,” is all he says before gripping the swinging chair and using it to drill his throbbing length inside of your aching walls. Your back arches sharply from the momentum of being slammed onto his cock.

You can’t do anything but whimper at the deep penetration. Faint creaks can be heard from the chair as your body is forcefully rocked back and forth.

Caleb is showing no mercy to your gushing pussy as he keeps up the brutal pace. You can distinctly feel each vein on his cock drag against your insides. Your mind goes fuzzy when he changes the angle of his thrusts and begins to rut against your most sensitive spot.

Caleb lovingly admires the state he’s put you in. Your hair is a mess, your eyes are unfocused, and it feels like you're sucking him in at every inward thrust.

“There you go my love, all you have to do right now is lay there and take it,” he rasps. He uses his evol to take over maneuvering the chair, so he can rub your clit in time with his thrusts.

Your eyes roll to the back of your head as your mind is filled with nothing but pure bliss. His rhythm turns sloppy when he feels you clench around him.

“You’re doing so good, just let go for me,” he practically coos at you.

You’re barely holding onto consciousness as your orgasm feels like it is never ending. Your legs are shaking, and you futilely try to close them against the onslaught of pleasure.

Caleb continues rubbing your clit and sinking himself inside of you while your spasm.

“Where do you want me to come princess?”

“Inside me please,” you say weakly.

Caleb keens before picking up the pace and burying himself deep inside of you. Feeling the warm spurts of his cum makes you reflexively clench around him. After a few moments, he slowly pulls out and collapses into his chair, letting you both catch your breath.

As you lay there you recall being mad at Caleb about something. But your mind is muddled from the mind blowing, back-to-back orgasms.

Well, you assume it wasn’t that important anyway. And if it was, you’ll deal with it later.

Maybe.

A/N: (Spoiler: Nothing was dealt with. You and Caleb ended up crawling into the tent and fucking some more instead. The end ♡ )

[obsessedwhyyes]

The Learned Observer

Fic Request: Voyeurism

Summary: On a sleepless night, Gale notices the distinct sound of hushed voices outside his tent. It couldn't be you and Astarion… could it? When he decides to take a peek - to satisfy his scholarly curiosity, of course - he gets more than he bargained for.

Rating: Explicit Word Count: 2623 Pairing: Astarion x Fem!Reader, implied Astarion x Gale x Fem!Reader Content: Gale's POV (first person), voyeurism, dry humping, handjob, public sex, male masturbation, a little bit of jealousy.

A/N: Gale, in my humble opinion, would not use the word, “cock.” I cannot express how hard it was to not use the word, "cock" in a smut fic. I frigging love that word. Anyways, writing entirely in Gale’s voice was honestly the most fun mini challenge I’ve set myself so far, and I would gladly do first person BG3 companion POVs again. Thank you, dear anon, for the request!

Another sleepless night.

The orb pulses beneath my skin, each throb a reminder of my predicament.

I implore my mind to wander to the events of our journey, to the challenges that lie ahead, in pursuit of a worthwhile distraction. But the orb’s hunger grows stronger, like a raging maelstrom, each tribute to its insistent pull a mere ripple against the tide of its endless consumption. Perhaps I should consult the others about–

… Voices drift from outside my tent before I can finish my thoughts. Curious.

Hushed laughter and whispered words. Astarion's distinctive timbre and… you.

The sound is soft, subtle - a quiet exchange. Yet, here I am, catching fragments of something private, something perhaps not intended for outside ears.

I shift, the faintest spark of curiosity pulling me from my solitude. It's innocent, surely - a late-night conversation, perhaps a shared joke. And yet, as the moments pass, I can't ignore the intimacy in your laughter, the way Astarion's voice drops to that silken murmur he reserves for his attempts at enticement.

Just a glance, I tell myself. Merely to understand what could be so amusing at this hour.

Slowly, carefully, I draw back a sliver of canvas, just enough to peek through.

My breath catches as my eyes adjust to the firelight outside. There, on the other side of the campfire, resting against a fallen log, you sit beside him, close - very close - your faces inches apart.

Your legs are entwined, and there’s an intensity in the way you look at each other. I’m taken aback by the hunger in the kiss that follows - one neither timid nor restrained. Your hands begin to explore each other with what I can only call fervour - the kind of urgency I hadn't known either of you possessed, let alone with each other. 

The way you move together speaks of raw desire rather than tender affection - this is clearly a new physical relationship.

When did this start? How did I miss the signs? Though perhaps I was too caught up in my own concerns to notice the lingering glances, the way you always seemed to find reasons to be near each other…

I tell myself it’s simple curiosity that keeps me here, observing. A certain academic interest, if you will. After all, Astarion has always been something of a hedonist - a man who indulges in his desires with a recklessness I sometimes envy, though rarely approve. But to see him like this - in action, as it were - offers a unique perspective on his character.

You murmur something I cannot make out, a teasing lilt in your voice, and Astarion laughs in that rakish, honeyed tone of his, as though thrilled to have you so wholly entranced. His hands grip your waist, and with a practised grace, he pulls you into his lap, the hem of your skirt spilling around you both. As his hands settle on your hips, you grind against what I can only assume to be a prominent hardness in his trousers, judging by the satisfied smirk on his face. 

You seem eager, pliant under his touch, responding in ways I confess I hadn’t thought you capable of - no, not like this. Not with him.

My heart hammers in my chest, a tension spreading through me that’s… increasingly difficult to ignore. And yet, I remind myself, this is mere observation, nothing more. A clinical exercise in understanding the intricacies of interpersonal attractions between a vampire and a mortal; the undercurrent of danger that befalls such an arrangement.

He holds you with a blend of confidence and entitlement that borders on decadent, his mouth at your neck, lips brushing against your skin with a maddening leisure that’s somehow indulgent and teasing all at once. His fangs linger there and, for a moment, my heart stops - surely he wouldn’t… Ah, no. No, he’s not feeding. He merely kisses your neck, fangs scraping lightly against your throat - close enough to tempt and tantalise. I see the goosebumps flare on your skin.

He whispers something low and unintelligible, and you let out a soft giggle, yielding in a way that speaks of trust - trust that’s he’s earned, somehow, despite his nature.

And then your hand drifts between you both, touching him through his trousers.

Gosh. I hadn’t thought you so bold.

Astarion’s body arches into your touch, his gaze darkening as he watches you with a hunger that’s both terrifying and… strangely beautiful. I find myself entranced, my breath shallow as I observe the way your fingers trace over him, the way he leans into you. The noise he makes when your fingers flex, squeezing him gently over the fabric… Gracious. 

There’s a strange, reluctant curiosity building within me. I should look away. I should grant you both the privacy you likely assume you have. And yet, my gaze remains fixed, drawn to the details of your encounter: the way his hands tighten on your waist, the way your breaths synchronise, the way he murmurs softly into your ear…

I am aware - painfully so - of the ache low in my body that has built with each passing moment, each glance, each touch. I am no stranger to restraint - I have spent years tempering my desires, sacrificing comforts in the pursuit of knowledge, of power. Yet, here, now, I feel that restraint begin to falter; to dissolve like ink in water, dispersing until it is all but unrecognisable. It has been so long, after all. So, so long.

When your hands move to the waistband of his trousers, my breath catches. Gods above, surely you won't, not out in the open... but yes. Yes, it seems you will.

When you pull him free, well - I’ve always wondered about vampire physiology, purely academically, of course. But the sight of him prompts rather less scholarly thoughts. He’s impressively endowed - perhaps it is wishful thinking to believe that this is but another gift of his condition. It’s fascinating how vampiric transformation affects every part of the body - he’s almost luminescent in the firelight, every inch of him perfect and unmarred. I notice the veins that trace along his length, faintly visible beneath his skin. He is, even now, a study in confidence, exuding a subtle power that one can only achieve when utterly comfortable in one’s own skin.

Your hand wraps around him, sliding up and down his length at a teasing pace, drawing forth a sound I have never heard our pale companion make - a soft, broken gasp, caught somewhere between a moan and a sigh. It sounds almost reluctant, as though he hadn’t meant for such a sound to slip past his lips. He twitches under your ministrations, and his grip on your hips tightens enough that there will surely be bruises tomorrow.

My fingers rest at my thigh, trembling ever so slightly. A small part of me - a remnant of reason, perhaps - tells me to pull back, to look away, to let this moment pass without surrendering to the need that has taken root within me. But my body, the traitorous thing it is, does not heed such commands. Instead, I find my hand drifting lower.

My fingers trace over the fabric of my trousers, over the aching hardness beneath. A gentle palming, barely enough to ease the tension that coils tighter with each passing moment as I watch the scene unfold.

Your hands elicit quiet murmurs from Astarion that grow deeper and more insistent with each passing moment. For a moment, the two of you share a look - one of conspiratorial mischief, perhaps - and then a soft, shared giggle, the sound mingling with the crackling of the fire. 

You're so utterly engrossed in him; so utterly unselfconscious.

You shift, a question in your eyes, and as he nods, giving his assent, you rise just enough to shift, positioning yourself over him. Your skirts drape around you both, providing a veneer of modesty, though there's no mistaking what follows when you sink yourself down on to him. The way your lips part in a gasp as he enters you, the way his head falls back with a victorious grin - it makes the tightness, the great ache between my legs, almost unbearable.

I find my hand slipping beneath my waistband.

Just a little relief, I tell myself. Just enough to ease this maddening tension.

There is a certain poetry to it, I suppose - this surrender to the pleasures of the flesh. I allow myself to imagine, as my hand finds the throbbing heat of my arousal, what it might feel to be in your place, to have someone look at me with that same confidence, to experience touch imbued with the certainty of one who knows precisely how to elicit pleasure - a knowledge gleaned from centuries, no doubt, of indulgence and conquest.

It’s enough to leave me aching for more than mere observation.

The fervour with which you move against him… it’s hypnotic, each roll of your hips drawing forth increasingly wanton sounds from you both. Astarion's carefully crafted demeanour gives way to something more roguish, a playful daring that glints in his eyes as you rise and fall and rise and fall on his length.

I find my hand instinctively matching your rhythm, every shift and motion, as though I, too, am bound to the undulating tempo that you and Astarion have created.

Gods… what must it be like to be him? To have someone so openly, eagerly drawn to you, meeting every touch with matching fervour? To hold someone close and feel their raw desire, the thrill of each laugh, each gasp, offered without hesitation? I wonder what it must be like to inspire such a response, to be desired so freely, without need for pretence or restraint?

With Mystra, I was ever the pursuer, striving tirelessly to earn even the barest hint of her approval, each moment together feeling like an examination I desperately hoped to pass. But Astarion… well. He needn't chase or convince. Despite his vampiric nature - or perhaps, in part, because of it - he is simply desired, freely given all that I once had to beg for. The inequity of it all would be rather poetic, if it weren't so personally vexing.

“A-ah!”

Your gasp cuts through my ruminations, pulling me back into the scene.

Astarion’s hand has slipped between you, guiding you to that final crescendo with a practised touch. The sight of it is utterly spellbinding: his fingers moving with a precision that speaks to centuries of experience, knowing just where to press, where to linger. The control he exercises over you is enviable, each movement of his hand coaxing you closer to that peak, his attention wholly focused on your reaction, even as your hips rock back and forth on his length with an increasingly frantic, unrestrained urgency.

The way your eyes roll back... Gosh.

The expression on your face, one of pure, unfiltered abandon, is a sight to behold.

Your body trembles as you reach your peak, and a sound - a cry, too loud in the stillness of the night - escapes your lips. Astarion’s palm clamps over your mouth, a futile attempt to muffle you in the throes of your climax. Though he hushes you, his expression suggests that he is not in the least bit concerned. In fact, he seems rather pleased - more than pleased, really. 

There’s a thrill in such a public display for him too, no doubt.

I swallow, the sound almost too loud, my heart pounding against my ribs as though it seeks to betray me. Astarion's head tilts slightly, his gaze flickering to the shadows, and for one heart-stopping moment, I think he has sensed me, that his attention has shifted from you to this invisible interloper, the scholar caught red-handed in his quiet act of voyeurism.

Could he... sense me here, lingering on the fringe of his private moment? Could he smell the stir of my own arousal, feel the faint tremor of my breath as I fight for composure? For several heartbeats, my hand freezes. I dare not even breathe.

But then his attentions return to you, and I breathe a sigh of relief. 

He brings his hands to your hips, holding them firmly in place as he drives himself upwards into you, deeper, with mounting desperation. It seems he seeks to chase his own release, content with the pleasure he has wrought you.

You respond eagerly, pressing closer, your own sounds growing louder, heedless of who might hear, and I can see that thrill in his face - the satisfaction of knowing he’s eliciting every reaction from you, drawing out each gasp, each shudder.

My hand glides hastily across my arousal, my own breathing growing ragged as I watch his control begin to slip. Even from here, I can see the tension in his shoulders, the way his head tips back in pure abandon.

In the final throes, he presses himself against you, buried firmly to the hilt. It’s almost animalistic, all thoughts, all calculated movements, making way for one singular goal: to empty himself into you, filling you with all he has to offer with breaths rugged and low. All composure is stripped, replaced with instinct and pure need.

I find my own movements quickening to match his pace, as though some invisible thread binds us all to this moment. My hand tightens as I lose myself in the same tempo, every sound from you both spurring me closer. The sight of his final shudder, the look of utter satisfaction crossing his face as he reaches that height, is enough to tip me over the edge.

For a heartbeat, the night seems to hold us all in perfect suspension - your quiet gasps, his satisfied murmurs, my own silent echo of shared pleasure - all woven together in this clandestine tableau.

Only then, as the euphoria begins to fade, does a most uncomfortable awareness creep in.

Gods above, what have I... A scholar of worldly acclaim, reduced to voyeur, caught up in base desires like some common... No. Best not to dwell on such things. Though I suspect sleep will prove rather elusive tonight, haunted by questions of propriety and... other matters.

With a groan, I roll onto my back, the orb’s steady throb now a minor annoyance compared to the tangled thoughts that flood my mind. Perhaps I can chalk this entire… incident up to fatigue, a wandering mind, even a fevered dream. Yes, that must be it. The product of a restless night and, possibly, a touch of indigestion. After all, who could believe that I, Gale of Waterdeep, would be brought so low as to... well, that.

As morning light spills across camp, I attempt a façade of normalcy, willing my cheeks to cool and my mind to settle. Just as I convince myself the night’s events were nothing more than a peculiar dream, Astarion sidles up, his expression one of leisurely amusement.

"Restless night, Gale?” he murmurs, just loud enough for me to hear. His gaze is as sharp as his tone, a knowing glint in his eyes that makes my stomach twist in the most uncomfortable way. "I thought I heard a... stirring from your tent."

The corner of his mouth quirks up in that infuriatingly smug way of his, and I nearly choke on my response. 

He knew. 

Astarion knew. 

I force a cough, pretending to inspect the morning sky.

"A dream," I reply a bit too quickly. "Perhaps the cheese at dinner was... overly ripe."

But Astarion merely chuckles, a wicked sound, before strolling away with a satisfied air. And as I watch him saunter off, I’m left to question just how much of the night was a dream - and how much, mortifyingly, was very, very real.

Masterlist can be found here!

No Pressure Tags: @roguishcat @davenswitcher @silverfangmarks @sparrowbard @chonkercatto @stokzr @trafalgarussy @asterordinary

[xoxoch3rry]

pleaseeee write for carl grimes! like headcannons or anything

okay so I've never written head cannons before sooooo idkkk :)

ℂ𝕒𝕣𝕝 𝔾𝕣𝕚𝕞𝕖𝕤 ℍ𝕖𝕒𝕕𝕔𝕒𝕟𝕟𝕠𝕟𝕤

@ xoxoch3rry do not steal or translate my work.

────⊹ ࣪ ˖⋆˖ ࣪⊹────

Protective AF. Like, boy has SEEN too much. You so much as get a scratch, and he’s demanding who did it, how it happened, and if they need to be “talked to.”

Slow to open up emotionally, but once he does? You get to see that rare soft side he barely even lets Judith see? He’ll lay his head in your lap and mumble that you’re the only thing keeping him grounded.

Overthinks everything. Sometimes you'll catch him staring into space, and you’re like “What’s wrong?” and it’s literally him planning how he’d get you out safely if walkers broke in while you were sleeping.

Acts like he’s fine, until you press him. And then the walls crumble, and he lets out all that grief, fear, anger… but only with you.

He’s not overly affectionate in public, but lowkey clingy when it's just the two of you. He's constantly brushing your hair back, squeezing your hand, resting his hand on your thigh.

Neck kisses. He acts casual but gets super flustered when you kiss under his jaw or collarbone.

Will absolutely pull you behind him with one arm when danger’s near, even if you’re armed and capable. That’s just his instinct.

Forehead touches instead of full kisses sometimes. That intense, silent kind of love. Nose brushing, eyes locked. You’re the calm in his storm.

You’re ride or die. Like, he needs someone who’s tough enough to survive but soft enough to remind him he’s still human.

Lots of quiet bonding. Sitting on watch together, sharing snacks in silence, leaning against each other during campfires. The apocalypse doesn’t leave much room for grand dates, so small moments become everything.

He likes teaching you things—like how to shoot better, how to read trails, how to take care of wounds. It makes him feel useful and connected.

Sometimes you fight. He gets reckless, especially if you’re in danger. He'd throw himself into fire just to save you. It scares you both.

When you fight, he usually storms off, but always comes back with guilt in his eyes, hands stuffed in his jacket pockets, mumbling, “I’m sorry, I just... I can’t lose you too.”

He lets you wear his sheriff’s hat when you're feeling down. That’s huge.

Would kill a walker and bring you back something weird like, “Thought this necklace looked kinda like you. It’s not bloody.”

He talks to Judith about you. Like, “Don’t you think she’s the prettiest?” even though she can’t talk back yet.

If he ever found an old Polaroid camera, he’d risk using film to get a picture of you just so he can keep it in his pocket and stare at it when he’s out on runs.

Carl genuinely believes he won’t live a long life. So he loves you hard but with a quiet kind of desperation, like he’s afraid it’s all temporary.

He worries more about what will happen to you if he dies than himself. You being alone? That’s his worst nightmare.

He’d try to break things off once, thinking it would protect you. But he couldn’t handle seeing you cry. He caved. He kissed you like it was the end of the world and swore never to let you go again.

[milksnake-tea]

━━ star-shaped .

War was never pretty. Death comes for both enemy and ally, and even as a healer, you cannot save everyone. Wearied by the war that seems to drag on for years, with no victory in sight, you join Jiaoqiu at the campfire for a rare moment of peace.

jiaoqiu x gn!reader

contains: based on leaks abt jiaoqiu's character stories !! but honestly its kinda implied in the quest but idk. has death, war, depictions of injuries and diseases, things are rough, can be read as platonic or romantic !!

word count: 1.7k

a/n: i love this man and his potential because goddamn war stories??? in my hsr??? sign me UP. also this was inspired by The Things They Carried by Tim Burton that i was forced to read in highschool. i loved the soldier death scene in that book so YEAH

taglist: @sh0jun , @themoderatelyawesomeninja , @xphantasmagoriax , @rainswept , @lucensei , @akutasoda , @naraven @camellia-rabbit , @scribs-dibs , @apathicace

The man you killed had two eyes; one was closed, and the other a star-shaped hole.

You wake when the sky is still dark and the sun bathes the other side of the planet. Harsh winds beat unrelentlessly at the tent’s folds, and hail pelts at the sturdy fabric.

Some of your comrades, fellow healers, sleep soundly as they can on the battlefield, while others work tirelessly in the makeshift hospital next tent over, keeping an eye on injured and diseased soldiers’ conditions.

Fire crackles outside. The sound is sharp, yet barely audible over the snow storm.

With a sigh, you pull your sheets off of you and as quietly as possible, make your way outside the tent. You aren’t going to get much sleep anyway - you might as well do something useful.

The man you killed resurfaces in your mind. He had two eyes - one closed, the other a star-shaped hole.

You pull your fur-lined coat closer around you as you step out into the camp. Snow crunches under your boots and you have to hold your hood in place to shield yourself from the hail.

To say that this planet is freezing would be an understatement. Here, the cold chilled you from your bones to your skin, seeping into your veins and leaving icicles in its wake. Frostbite was an everyday occurrence here; you’ve had to amputate more toes and fingers than ever in your life.

A silhouette sits before the fire, their back turned to you. As you get closer, you make out tall, Foxian ears and the same winter coat you’re currently wearing.

“Jiao?” you wrinkle your nose as you near, suddenly slammed with the strong scent of chili. Your comrade acknowledges you with a brief flick of the ears, but nothing more.

You don’t blame him. This war has been a harsh one, with less soldiers returning to camp every time they’re sent out. Unknown territory and harsh weather conditions made the battles long and exhausting, and healers could only do so much.

Not to mention, time passed so quickly yet so slowly here. You don’t know how long it’s been since you’ve been stationed, but it feels like several lifetimes.

Everyone is tired. You can see it in the hollowed cheeks, the eyes that have grown numb to death, and the despondent numbness that has overtaken the camp. They no longer cared who won or who lost. All they wanted was to return home in one piece.

The man you killed had two eyes. One was closed, and the other was a star-shaped hole.

You sit down next to Jiaoqiu on the log. The Foxian makes no move to push you off, only shifting to the side to help make room for you. Hugging your knees to your chest, you stare blankly at the drifting embers that dance in the air.

Jiaoqiu absentmindedly stirs at his soup. It boils in a small pot just above the fire, the thin liquid a red so bright it’d be threatening… if you had the energy to be threatened.

“It’s late,” you say into the crisp silence. “You should get some sleep before the sun rises. You’ll need it for tomorrow.”

Even as the words leave your mouth, you know it’s pointless. In war, sleep is something you have to force your body into. You have to lie down in the tents, look up at the fabric sky and listen to the hustle and bustle outside as soldiers are carried in and out, and close your eyes to the screams as yet another frostbitten knight has their arm cut off. You have to put yourself first, even for that small second, and allow yourself rest while your comrades fight on the front lines.

Sleep is a luxury that no one can afford. It is an escape. It is shameful.

And from the looks of Jiaoqiu’s darkened eye bags and mindless stirring, it’s a sin he won’t be partaking in tonight.

And neither will you.

Your gaze falls to the small bag of spices lying next to Jiaoqiu on the long. You can see peppercorns, cloves, fennel, cinnamon, and… star anise.

You look away.

The man you killed had two eyes. One was closed.

“How are you faring?” Jiaoqiu finally speaks. He doesn’t look at you and keeps his eyes on the flame.

Another gust of wind runs through you.

“As well as anyone else is, I suppose.”

Jiaoqiu swirls the soup with one hand. A bubble bursts and sprays the snow in little sizzling red freckles.

“How about you?” you ask.

The snow has already covered the soup’s spill by the time Jiaoqiu replies.

“As well as one can be,” he mutters. His hands, gloved with thick leather, clench once before relaxing.

A hollow chuckle leaves you. You sigh, kicking your legs out onto the snow and leaning back on the log. You look to the sky, to the cryptically beautiful cosmos. Blues, purples, and reds merge together like watercolor clouds above you, and small, white stars bejewel them.

Stars… Your gaze becomes lidded.

The man you killed had two eyes. One was a star-shaped hole.

“Do you think that man had a family?”

If Jiaoqiu was surprised at all by your question, he didn’t show it.

“Does it matter?” He takes a small taste of his soup. Despite it practically glowing in red, he doesn’t seem satisfied. “He was the enemy, need I remind you.”

You close your eyes briefly. “But I’m a healer.”

“You are.” Jiaoqiu opens his pouch and dumps in the rest of his chili rations - what for, you don’t know nor do you care to know. “You are also a soldier of the Xianzhou Yaoqing military. War always ends up in casualties, you know this. So did the soldier.”

There’s a bitterness in his tone that makes you wonder if he was talking to himself as well as to you. Your eyes soften.

“You did what you could, Jiao,” you offer. You want to put your hand on his shoulder, but you aren’t sure if that is appropriate, given the circumstances. “What happens outside the camp is beyond our control.”

Jiaoqiu sighs. His hand tightens around the ladle.

“Then what’s the point?” he whispers. His brows furrow, and his eyes open - a gem of amber reflecting years worth of grief and hopelessness. “What purpose do I have as a healer if I cannot stop my patients from hurtling towards their deaths?”

He turns to you, searching your face for any sort of answer that could satisfy him, that could reassure him that there was meaning, there was a point, that all of those bandages and surgeries and amputations weren’t for naught.

But you cannot answer him, for it is a question that no healer knows the answer to.

“You gave them another chance at life,” you say softly, unconvincingly. “That’s all that matters.”

“Even if that life is destined to end regardless of what I do?”

Dead eyes meet dull ones.

“What happens outside the camp is beyond our control,” you repeat blankly.

The man you killed had two eyes.

Jiaoqiu searches your gaze once more, before ultimately giving up. The amber of his eyes close, and he returns to the cauldron.

In a feeble attempt to console him, you go against your earlier thoughts and rest a hand on his shoulder, giving it a comforting squeeze. But with the roughness of your gloves and the cold limiting the dexterity of your hands, it isn’t much - but it’s enough.

Jiaoqiu glances at your hand, then back at the cauldron.

“Do you feel bad?”

You blink, a bit caught off guard by the question, but you settle down soon enough.

“No,” you say after a brief pause. “He would’ve killed us if I hadn’t killed him.”

You lean forward, resting your head in your palm as you watch the flames swallow up what little tinder the others managed to collect.

“I’m just glad to be alive.” You don’t sound like you believe it.

Jiaoqiu’s ear flicks. You hear him stand up and scoop some of the soup up into his ladle, and dash out his tongue to taste it. His tail swishes, and his eyes widen momentarily, amber flashing like lightning.

A smile, a weary, tired, but grateful smile, slips onto his lips.

He turns to you, vitality returned, even if it’s just for a moment.

“Try this,” he says, holding the ladle out towards you. 

You eye it warily. The liquid drips down the sides of the ladle and drops down onto the snow below, sizzling the second red touches white. You didn’t think it was possible for the soup to get even redder, but Jiaoqiu somehow did it.

“I won’t die if I eat it, right?” you try to joke. Jiaoqiu huffs, his breath steaming in the air.

“You doubt my cooking capabilities?”

You shake your head. “No, but whatever you have in there doesn’t exactly look… edible.”

And yet you’re already leaning forward to taste his concoction. Jiaoqiu carefully holds the ladle still as you take a sip.

Instantly your senses are flooded with pure, unyielding heat. Fire blazes on your tongue, searing your throat and bringing tears to your eyes. Your stomach burns, and for the first time since you’ve come to this planet, you stop shivering.

It’s painful.

It’s exhilarating.

“It’s delicious,” you praise despite the coughs that wreck your being. “Although… did you have to add so much chili?”

Jiaoqiu hums out a laugh. “But that’s what makes it special.”

You don’t bother denying it. Instead, you laugh alongside him, eyes crinkling with joy instead of pain after years of constant war.

You’ll have to return to the war eventually. The sun is already beginning to rise, and soon the soldiers will be awakened to go out into battle once more. You’ll have to take over for your comrades who had spent the night in the hospital.

But you don’t have to do it just yet.

For now, you just want to enjoy this moment, this second of normalcy and peace in the battlefield.

The man you killed had two eyes.

One was closed.

The other was a star-shaped hole.

reblogs w comments are appreciated !!

[moesthoughts]

Would love to see first kiss headcannons for the camp counselors

How would your first kiss be?

camp councilors x gen neu reader

warnings . . . fluff, suggestive if you squint

for the sake of max and laura’s hcs they aren’t together

dylan lenivy

Behind all the jokes and surprisingly smooth pick up lines, Dylan isn’t the most confident of people. Socially awkward is the word to describe him.

It’s you who makes the first move, the constant flirting and tension between you both practically drove you insane, you couldn’t wait any longer.

It was like any normal day, Dylan talking your ear off, making jokes to attempt to make you laugh. The way you hit his shoulder when he manages to get a chuckle out of you fills his stomach with butterflies.

“You just can’t keep your hands off of me can you?” Comes from his mouth, you’re not sure who’s face lit up brighter. You stare at him, and he instantly waves his hands around. Trying to play it off as a joke.

In the middle of his sentence you cut him off by pressing your lips against his, retreating away instantly, you scan his face for any discomfort.

To say he was taken off guard was an understatement, though once he regained consciousness from his dazed state. He chased you back down, lips crashing against yours. You kissed him back, your arms wrapping around his neck to deepen it.

He was pressed against the wall, sheepish arms snake around you. Your head was dizzy, your thoughts were clouded by Dylan.

You two would’ve gone further if it wasn’t for the “oh shit!” from kaitlyn, walking in on you two in the radio shack. You weren’t living this down.

nick furcillo

You and Nick had a pretty tight knit relationship, you both work in the kitchen so it wasn’t surprising that you are practically attached at the hip.

There was strong mutual attraction between you two, though both failed to recognize one another’s feelings.

It was the end of dinner time, and clean up was finished half an hour ago. Still, You and Nick were idle in the kitchen talking about whatever crossed your minds.

“Hey Nick, I have a question.” You spoke up, he hummed in response, raising an eyebrow. The way his name fell out of your mouth was perfect.

“Do you.. like anyone so far at camp?— Romantically.” Your feet acted on their own, slowly approaching the other. You lean on the counter near him, he seemed nervous.

“Well..” He started, his accent strong. You didn’t expect to feel a tug on your wrist, pulling you closer to him. His brown eyes were focused on your hand, his thumb caressing your knuckles. “I like you, a lot. I don’t think anyone else here interests me as much as you.”

Your cheeks tinted a soft hue of red. Out of every councilor, you weren’t expecting your name to roll off his tongue.

“That’s good to know. Yknow I feel the same way—“ before you could finish, Nick’s lips found yours, pulling you into a delicate kiss. His lips were soft and tasted like mint chapstick, your fingers wormed around his to interlock your hands.

You pull away to catch air, you opened your eyes to meet his. He was so enamored with you, it made you melt even more.

“Why don’t we go down to the campfire?” You interrupted the moment, Nick hurriedly nodded in agreement.

ryan erzahler

Ryan didn’t go out of his way to talk to the other councilors, they usually went to him. Which is exactly what you did, made an effort to talk to him. His loner persona was alluring, you never could take your eyes off of him.

You two became close surprisingly quickly, Ryan enjoys talking to you, and of course you feel the same. Conversation flows smoothly between you guys. The others quickly noticed.

Neither of you can think of a time where you haven’t been together, quality time is important in your relationship. Whether it was walking, hanging out silently, or simple quiet chit chatter.

The small things matter the most, it didn’t need to be any bigger than it already was.

You two were sitting on a log in the forest, watching the view in front of you, your eyes fixate on the view in front of you, Ryan’s rest on your face, examining your facial features.

His hand rested on yours, causing you to look over with a smile. The way he looks at you always makes you nervous.

You liked each other, it’s was obvious even to you. You lean closer to him, your eyes do the communicating. Ryan scoots closer, and pecks you on the lips, one, two, three times before going in for an actual kiss.

Your free hand cups his cheek, he leans into it with a small hum. Thank god for silent communication.

jacob custos

Jacob is a pretty open person, if he’s attracted to someone he will pursue them straight away. What can he say, he’s a charming guy!

From the start of camp, Jacob had a little “hallway crush” on you. Orientation was where it started, He couldn’t take his eyes off you. You’re attractive, and have a certain energy to you that just pulls him in.

You find yourself getting close to Jacob over the first month of camp, you two just couldn’t stop bumping into each other! of course it was on purpose, he just adores talking with you.

At one point he asked you to sneak out, of course you agree. Which brings you to the present, sitting at the dock with your legs dangling over the water. Talking about who knows what, Jacob sure knows how to keep a conversation alive.

“Hey I actually do have something important to ask you—“ Jacob suddenly switched the conversation, you look at him with curiosity. “Sure. What’s up?”

“So I actually am very into you, like very. I was wondering if yknow.. you, me? would be work out?” Jacob points his fingers back and forth between you both, you snort.

“Yeah duh, I’m into you too.” You respond, scooting closer to him. You can tell he got the hint, by the way he wraps his arm around you and pulls you in for a nice slow kiss.

You slowly bring you and him down, your back is on the dock and he’s half on top of you. The kiss breaks off then comes back alive, more passion blooming.

This has to be the best night so far.

max brinly

Max is a bit clueless, especially when it comes to romance. That doesn’t mean he doesn’t have natural charm, he’s had previous experience in the dating world after all.

Infact, that’s what you’re attracted to about him. Clueless guys are cute, the way he looks at you when he’s confused makes you smile, it’s just so adorable.

You both happened to get paired up during cleaning duty one fateful lunch, you were scared to speak with him at first. Once you did though, you two hit it off instantly. Chatter curing the usual boredom of cleaning.

From that day, you both couldn’t stay away from each other. Max would go out of his way to visit your station (even if you’re actively teaching the kids something) You don’t mind though.

Today, you happened to get some free time in the afternoon. You were quick to tell Max and he seemed happy, you planned to go on a walk with him. So you were in a good mood all day.

On the walk you both chat about your days, though you both stop once you come across two camper’s names etched in the wood, a heart surrounding it. Your heart practically explodes in your chest.

“Cute kids, huh? Hey, why don’t we do the same thing?” You feel heat rise to your cheeks, but you accept either way. Max happened to have a pocket knife on him.

After it was done, you two were crouched in front of it. You equally had red faces. You turn your head towards him and reach your hand out, running your fingers through his hair. You slowly got closer to each other, before connecting with a kiss. Max places his hand on your knee and deepens the kiss.

You break off the kiss, nervous laughter spilling from you both. Once your able to think properly again, you look around you. “Shit— we need to get back for dinner.” You two quickly ran off towards the lodge.

emma mountebank

You and Emma became close pretty quickly, having a shared love for theatre really helped secure that bond. Other than her extroverted personality, you guys clicked easily.

Conversations include gossiping, rambling about your lives outside of summer camp, and complaining about how rowdy the kids could get. Emma is glad she has someone close to talk to about whatever, and You’re just glad you have a friend.

You two happened to also quickly develop feelings for one another, Emma was smitten. You were kind, funny, good with kids, and pretty good looking. You couldn’t get your mind off of her, just speaking with her now made your heart race.

Backstage is where you two were usually hiding from kids, so it wasn’t a surprise that’s where you reside currently. Emma groans, rolling her eyes as you complain about Nick and Abi dancing around their feelings for each other.

“Holy shit, I know! She’s always talking about him and not making a move, I really do love Abi but she’s gotta grow some balls.” She said, resting her head in her hand.

“I don’t think it’s her who needs to grow balls.” There’s a beat before you both break into loud giggles, Emma hit you on the shoulder.

“Hey actually speaking of crushes, do you have the hots for anyone?” Emma readjusts herself, that familiar smirk coming onto her face. It’s always when she’s getting nosey.

“Well it so happens that I actually do.” It’s your turn to smirk, Emma purses her lips and squints at you. Under your poker face, your hearts’ practically beating out of your chest.

“She wouldn’t happen to be right in front of you would she?” She asks, your face heats up.

“And what if she was?” You don’t have time to think, Emma is already pulling you into a kiss. It’s passionate right away, you don’t hesitate before pressing back into her. A satisfied whine is pulled from her.

You guys practically made out for an hour, if it wasn’t for Dylan coming in and forcing you both to help with lunch. You would’ve spent more time together.

abi blyg

Abi is a shy girl, anyone could tell that from miles away. Though that didn’t stop you guys from becoming really close at the beginning of camp, your personalities mix together really well.

You have an appreciation for any kind of art, Which is why you mean so much to Abi. You both bond majorly over your love for art, even if it might be different things you are interested in.

You sit in to watch some of her classes. The first time you decided to observe, she was pretty nervous to have an extra set of eyes on her. But overtime she got back into the flow of things again, her being so passionate made you fall in love then and there.

Abi fell in love the moment you actually made an effort to be her friend and seem genuinely interested in her hobbies, she’s never had someone like that.

Today, Abi invited you over her cabin. She found nail polish in her bag and wanted to paint for nails, you accepted straight away.

“—And I was like, Jacob you can’t just say that about a kid. I mean the lowest you can ever go is shit talk a kid. Especially when you’re at a table next to them!” Gossip spills from your mouth, earning multiple giggles from Abi.

“I’ve been waiting for someone to say something! I thought it was just me who thought it was weird.” She responds, painting your nails with caution. The way she gently holds your hand and puts effort into making your nails look good, it just makes butterflies swirl in your stomach.

Once she finishes your nails you compliment her work, making her a bit bashful.

“Hey Abi.. This is really random but, You’re practically my best friend and I don’t want to ruin what we have. But, I really like you. I want to try to have something more than just friendship.” You notice you catch her off guard, her face lights up as her eyes dart around the room.

“I.. I feel the same, I was also nervous about telling you.” She responds, taking your hands in hers. “Can I.. kiss you?” The question rolls off her tongue oh so beautifully. You instantly nod slowly closing the space between you.

kaitlyn ka

Kaitlyn is a chill girl, her vibes were what attracted you. At first her constant teasing was frustrating. You two had a rocky start, disagreeing a ton.

Though, once you injured yourself in a climbing accident. You both had a chance to finally sit down and get to know each other. Your defensive wall lowered immediately and you both genuinely enjoyed the company.

From then on, You and Kaitlyn formed a tight bond. You found yourself making constant excuses for why you needed to go to the nurses office, retreating from your task just to talk with her.

She always scolds you, but in reality she loves your presence. She adores your personality, and your face is really— fuck she likes you.

You started falling for her as well, the way she handles you so gently, caressing the small bruises you use as an excuse to see her. It makes you feel all fuzzy inside.

For the second time today, you go to the nurses office. You assume that Kaitlyn always expects you to come in, when you enter the doorway and she’s facing the medicine cabinet, she calls out your name without looking.

“Hey Kait’, No injuries this time. I just have a genuine question to ask.” A serious tone fills your voice as you sit on the cot next to her. “You never have an actual injury, dude.” Kaitlyn sasses you, effectively causing you to roll your eyes.

“Anyways, what’s up buttercup?” She turns to you with her eyebrow raised, you exhale out the anxiety that’s festering inside of you. “How do you feel about me? Like genuinely.”

“Are you serious?” Kaitlyn asks, you bite your lip with a sheepish head nod. She laughs a bit before sitting next to you on the cot, her hand resting on your thigh.

“I don’t think i’ve felt this way about someone ever since middle school, I’m so into you it’s no joke. You make me feel so different in the best way.” She looks at you in a way you can tell she’s serious, a smile creeps its way onto your lips.

“You haven’t had bitches since middle school?” You laugh nervously as her eyebrows furrow. “Kidding! Kidding! I feel the exact same way I just didn’t—“ You are cut off from her lips crashing onto yours. You kiss her back, slightly pushing her into the mattress as you do.

You break it off once your lungs start to burn, you both stare at each other with love in your eyes.

laura kearney

Laura is a hardcore animal lover, it was the field she wants to go into anyway. Taking care of animals makes her happy, which is why when she saw you feeding a squirrel a nut stolen from the cafeteria, she instantly had a small attraction to you.

She started speaking to you first, asking about how you feel about animals and mentioning how she saw you feeding a squirrel a nut. You rambled on about your favorite animals and your love for nature.

From then on, You and Laura made an effort to observe the wildlife around you as much as you could. Due to that you two are always together during your free time.

Overtime you developed mutual feelings for each other, You subtly flirted with each other every nature walk you took. Which in turn made you both fall harder.

Both of you are sitting on the steps in front of your cabin, Laura’s head is resting on your shoulder while you write in your shared log about the different types of birds you saw.

She lifts her head off of your shoulder, causing you to glance over at her to see if anything was up. Her eyes stare into yours, it looks like she’s hesitant to say something.

“I just wanted to say, Thank you so much for doing this with me. I mean, I can’t even be more grateful that such a.. lovely person decided to pick up a hobby with me.” Her words turn into mumbles as Laura approaches the end of her sentence, it happens when she’s nervous.

You smile softly, fidgeting with the pen in your hand. “..Yeah?” You feel tension in the air, though it doesn’t feel wrong. It feels so right.

“Yeah.” She responds, you two look at each other for a good minute before she cups your cheek. You set down the notebook knowingly and meet Laura half way, sharing a kiss with her.

You could stay in this moment forever.

FINALLY FINISHED THIS!! I started yapping when i got to the women so excuse that (i’m a lesbian). Also sorry for Laura’s part being lowkey rushed my sleeping meds kicked in towards the end of writing it.

[moonstruckme]

I used to be a camp counselor and I just know James is the exact kind of guy the little kids would fight to sit next to at activities. And! He tells the most dramatic campfire stories

Hi! I realize this wasn't really a request but it gave me an idea, so thank you lovely!

camp counselor!James x fem!reader ♡ 751 words

“Then,” James says in a low, solemn voice, “Timmy heard the monster getting louder. Do you know what I do with my giant red mouth and my long purple fingers?” 

All around you, campers sit with bated breath. When the last counselor to go had told her story, they’d all been whispering to each other, giggling and messing around as they tend to do whenever anyone is speaking. Anyone except James, apparently. 

“Timmy ran to the only place left to hide.” He walks slowly around the logs you and the kids sit on as he talks, the orange glow of the fire casting his face in a merry hue despite his foreboding tone. You can tell he’s trying his best to play the part, and James isn’t the worst actor in the world, but anytime he looks at one of the kids’ faces the twitching of his lips betrays him. 

He crouches next to an apprehensive-looking girl and says to her, “He squeezed into the closet in the basement and made himself as small as he could. Just like that.” James pokes the girl’s curled up form teasingly, drawing a smile out of her. His lips twitch again. 

“For a minute,” he stands, beginning to circle again, “it was quiet. Then, Timmy heard the monster coming down the stairs.” James stomps his feet on the dirt, making dull thudding sounds that have you smiling and your camper next to you gripping your arm apprehensively. “The monster got closer and closer. Timmy was trapped.” 

James is nearly behind you, and the girl holding your arm whispers, “Does the monster live close to here?” 

“No, no.” You keep your voice low, bending your head towards hers with your most reassuring smile. “This monster’s all the way in Florida. Don’t worry.” 

“And when Timmy could hear the monster’s breath just outside the closet,” James goes on, though you’re not really paying attention, more focussed on comforting the poor girl beside you, “it asked again, Do you KNOW—” His voice rises to a shout, and big hands grab your waist, making you squeak loudly. James’ hold is the only thing that keeps you from flinching fully out of your seat, and you can hear him snickering quietly behind you as the kids erupt in laughter. 

“Do you know,” he tries again, amusement coating his tone, “what I do with my giant red mouth and my long purple fingers?” 

He lowers himself onto his haunches, speaking to the girl next to you. “And do you want to guess what Timmy said?” he asks her, both hands still on your waist. 

She shakes her head, giggling. 

“Well, he said no, obviously.” James grins as if this is a joke you’re all in on together. “How would he know? So the monster said, I’ll show you.” 

James gives your waist a teasing squeeze as he lets you go, but his face smooths into seriousness again, one hand coming slowly up to his mouth. The kids near you are craning their necks to see him. 

Lightning quick, James sticks a finger in front of his lips, flapping up and down as he blows out and makes a vibrating sound. 

The silence breaks as the kids either laugh or boo or a mix of both, one of James’ campers shouting, “That wasn’t even scary!” 

“It was too!” James feigns offense, setting a hand on your head and banding his forearm across your collar protectively. “Don’t say that, you’ll make y/n feel bad. Poor love,” he says sympathetically, resting his head on your shoulder, “she was really terrified.” 

“Did you pee yourself?” one of the campers near you asks. You turn to her, making a silly face. 

“I think maybe a little,” you whisper loudly, causing the kids to devolve into giggles again. 

“Oh, ew.” James makes a show of removing his hands from you and wiping them on the back of your shirt. The campers eat it up, your small clearing in the woods a cacophony of laughter and cricket sounds. You catch some of the other counselors rolling their eyes, some exchanging knowing smiles. 

“Well, I suppose that’s fair enough,” James goes on. “I nearly peed myself, too, when I thought you were going to fall off your log there.” He shoots you one of his winning smiles. “Good thing you had me to catch you, yeah?” 

You feel your face warm, and you’re grateful for the glow of the campfire as cover. “Mhm,” you say, “good thing.” 

[writeriguess]

Omggggg that Katsuki in a lake with you and professing his love at a campfire was sooooo cute!! Could you write a scenario for Kirishima?

Katsuki fic this comment mentions

Under the Moonlight

The crackling campfire casts flickering shadows across the trees as the Bakusquad laughs, passing around drinks and sharing exaggerated stories. You’re curled up on a log, the warmth of the fire kissing your skin while Kirishima sits across from you, his eyes constantly darting to you when he thinks no one’s looking. He’s been like this all trip—stealing glances, fidgeting, acting a little too eager to help whenever you need something.

You’re not oblivious. You’ve known him long enough to notice when something’s up. But tonight, you decide to push the limits a little.

Stretching your arms above your head, you announce, “I think I’m gonna go for a swim.”

Mina perks up immediately. “Ooooh, nighttime swim? Count me in!”

“Nah, it’s gonna be a solo swim,” you reply with a smirk, standing up and dusting off your shorts. “Just need to cool off.”

There’s a round of teasing comments, mostly from Kaminari and Sero, but you wave them off as you make your way down the dirt path leading to the lake. You hear someone shifting behind you, but when you glance over your shoulder, everyone seems to be in their usual spots—except for Kirishima, who suddenly won’t meet your eyes.

The lake is calm, reflecting the silver glow of the full moon. You tug off your clothes, letting the night air nip at your skin before stepping into the cool water. A shiver runs through you, but it’s refreshing, washing away the lingering heat from the fire. You wade deeper, the water rising past your waist, up to your shoulders, until you’re fully submerged, floating under the stars.

A soft rustle from the trees makes your ears perk.

You tilt your head, barely making out a figure crouching behind some bushes near the pier. The moonlight is just bright enough to catch a flash of red—Kirishima’s hair.

Your lips curve into a knowing smile.

“Kiri,” you call out, your voice cutting through the stillness of the night. “You planning on just watching, or are you gonna join me?”

A sharp intake of breath. Then, a loud thud.

“Shit!” Kirishima stumbles forward, crashing through the brush like a startled animal. He barely catches himself on the wooden railing of the pier, looking completely busted. His face is burning, even in the dim light.

“I—I wasn’t spying!” he blurts out, hands flailing in panic. “I just—uh—I was checking to see if you were okay! You know, since it’s dark and all, and—”

You laugh, the sound soft and teasing. “Kiri, relax. I don’t mind.”

He blinks, stunned. “You… don’t?”

“Nope.” You tilt your head toward the water. “Why don’t you come in?”

“I—uh—” His throat bobs as he swallows hard. He’s looking anywhere but directly at you, eyes darting from the lake to the pier, to the trees, back to the pier. You can practically see the war waging in his head.

“I mean, it’s only fair,” you continue, watching him squirm. “You already got an eyeful, right?”

His face somehow gets redder. “That’s not—! I wasn’t—!”

You laugh again, wading closer to the pier. “Come on, Kiri. Live a little.”

Something in your voice snaps whatever self-control he had left. With a deep breath, he tugs off his shirt, revealing his sculpted chest, then hesitates. “I can’t believe I’m doing this,” he mutters before unbuttoning his shorts and letting them drop.

You smirk as he steps onto the ladder leading down into the water, gripping the metal bars with a tense, white-knuckled grip. His movements are hesitant, but as soon as the water touches his skin, he exhales a shuddering breath.

“Damn, it’s cold,” he murmurs, wading toward you.

“You’ll get used to it,” you assure him.

The air between you is thick with something unspoken, something electric. The moon casts a soft glow on his face, highlighting the nervous yet hungry look in his eyes as he stares at you. Your bodies are close—closer than they should be, considering you’re both completely bare beneath the water.

And then, he moves.

It’s subtle at first, just the brush of his fingers against your waist. But when you don’t pull away, he lets his hand settle, gripping you gently, testing the waters—literally and figuratively.

“You sure about this?” he murmurs, voice husky.

Instead of answering, you press against him, chest to chest, feeling the heat of his body despite the cool water surrounding you.

“Yeah,” you breathe, tilting your head up.

That’s all the invitation he needs.

His lips crash into yours, eager and desperate, like he’s been waiting for this moment forever. His hands grip your hips, pulling you flush against him as the water ripples around you. His tongue sweeps against yours, and you moan softly, threading your fingers through his damp hair.

He presses you back against the pier’s ladder, the metal cold against your skin, but his body is warm—so warm. His hands roam, mapping every inch of you, and soon, all that exists is him. The water splashes softly as he lifts you, positioning you just right.

“Fuck,” he mutters against your throat. “You’re so perfect…”

You bite your lip, arching into him as he pushes inside, slow but deep. The sensation makes your breath hitch, your fingers digging into his shoulders. He groans, forehead pressing against yours as he starts moving, each thrust sending waves rippling across the lake.

It’s frantic and messy, all pent-up emotions and unspoken feelings spilling out between gasps and moans. He grips the ladder behind you for leverage, his other hand cupping the back of your neck as he kisses you like he never wants to stop.

“God, I’ve wanted this for so long,” he confesses in a breathless whisper.

You whimper in response, rolling your hips against him. “Me too, Kiri…”

That seems to undo him completely.

His pace quickens, his breathing ragged as he chases his release, pulling you along with him. The pier creaks slightly with the movement, the night filled with nothing but the sound of water lapping against the wood and your shared moans.

And when you both finally unravel, tangled in each other, the world feels still—like it’s just the two of you, floating under the stars.

—

Later that night, back at the campfire, Kirishima is slumped against the log, cheeks flushed from alcohol and lingering post-bliss haze. You’re sitting beside him, barely able to keep a straight face as he suddenly claps a heavy hand on your shoulder.

“I love you,” he declares loudly, voice slurred but undeniably sincere.

The entire group goes dead silent.

Bakugo chokes on his drink.

Mina’s jaw drops.

Sero and Kaminari immediately start howling with laughter.

“You what?!” Mina shrieks.

Kirishima blinks slowly, as if just realizing what he said. Then, he groans, burying his face in his hands. “Shit.”

You laugh, wrapping an arm around his shoulders. “I love you too, dumbass.”

The group erupts into chaos, but all you can focus on is Kirishima’s dopey, lovestruck grin as he leans into you.

Maybe this camping trip wasn’t such a bad idea after all.

[kaayyyys]

Rick Grimes

Fluff alphabet

Part 1 (a-j )

For those of us who have fallen for the quiet strength, the unwavering loyalty, and the surprising tenderness hidden beneath Rick Grimes's hardened exterior, this is an exploration of the little things, the acts of love – big and small – that define his connection with the one he holds dearest.

A - Affectionate Touches

Rick isn't one for grand gestures, but his love is woven into the fabric of everyday life. A hand grazing your lower back as he guides you through a crowd, a gentle squeeze of your hand across the table, a lingering brush of his lips against your temple as he passes by. These small, almost unconscious touches are his constant reassurance, a silent promise of his unwavering presence. He'll often pull you close when you're standing near each other, just to feel your warmth against him.

B - Bedtime Stories (and cuddles)

Maybe not stories in the traditional sense, but Rick loves to talk with you before you fall asleep. About his past, about his worries, about his hopes for the future. Lying tangled together in a bed, or just next to each other on the floor. He loves running his fingers through your hair as you gently fall asleep in his arms. He will never be the first one to fall asleep, just so he can watch you, observe how beautiful you are and make sure you are still here.

C - Comfort.

Rick is your personal safe haven. When the world feels like it's crashing down around you, he's the one you run to. He’ll hold you close, his strong arms a shield against all the chaos. He doesn’t always need words; his presence alone is often enough to calm the storm inside you. He'll listens intently, offering advice only when asked, and when he does, his words are always measured, thoughtful, and full of genuine care.

D- Devotion.

Rick's devotion is a quiet, burning flame. He's not fickle; once he gives his heart, it's yours to keep. His loyalty is absolute, his commitment unwavering. You'll see it in the way he looks at you, the way he prioritizes your well-being above his own, and the fierce protectiveness that rises within him whenever you're threatened.

E - Empathetic Listening: Rick may not be the most talkative person, but he's an excellent listener. He truly hears you, not just the words you say, but the emotions behind them. He remembers the little details, the things that matter to you, and he uses that knowledge to support you in ways that are both profound and deeply personal. He will spend countless nights just holding you while you cry over all that has happened, never once judging you.

F -Future Planning.

Rick doesn't talk about a white picket fence, but he does think about the future – a future where you both are safe, content, and building a life together. He'll talk about rebuilding, about creating a community where hope can flourish, and he always includes you in that vision. He wants you by his side, not just as a partner, but as an integral part of his world.

G - Gentle Kisses

Not always passionate, fiery kisses (though those have their place), but the soft, gentle kisses that speak of tenderness and affection. A kiss on your forehead as he leaves for a supply run, a lingering kiss on the nape of your neck as you're cooking dinner, a light brush of his lips against yours as you drift off to sleep. These are the kisses that say, "I love you," without uttering a word.

H - Holding Hands

A simple gesture, but one that speaks volumes. Whether you're walking through the woods, sitting by a campfire, or simply relaxing in each other's company, Rick loves to hold your hand. It's a grounding connection, a reminder that you're not alone, that you have each other to lean on. His large, calloused hand fits perfectly with yours.

I -Inside Jokes

He has few friends, even fewer that have survived. But you hold a special place with him. Sometimes, amidst all the chaos, you'll share a look, a small smile, a silent understanding that no one else could possibly comprehend. These inside jokes, these shared moments of levity, are a testament to the deep bond you share.

J -Just Being There

Sometimes, the greatest act of love is simply being present. Rick understands this implicitly. He doesn't need to solve all your problems or offer grand solutions; he just needs to be there, a steadfast presence in your life, a shoulder to lean on when you need it most.

[strawberryblue-blog]

Summer love —Pablo Gavi.

summary: Spending the summer with your friends had always been something you loved but this time something is different, especially with Pablo.

warnings: none. cute/fluff, soft, friends to lovers, lots of kisses.

words count: +2.4k

The starry summer night shone over your heads as your friends laughed at the small campfire they had made. It was the summer vacations and all your friends had decided to come to Pedri's house in the Canary Islands where the best summer nights were spent.

After several hours of drinking, chatting, bathing in the water and returning to the campfire, the night was finally coming to an end. Some were falling asleep on the sand while the others were fooling around about anything. It was already too late and you were starting to feel a little tired. You had spent most of the day out and about, in the sea, running around, drinking, playing stupid games, enjoying the night.

"I think it's time to go to sleep" you warned getting up from your place. The others looked at you confused.

"Boringgggg" Ferran complained mockingly and they laughed.

Some of them were drunk and would probably wake up here sleeping (or not sleeping at all). Normally when they came here the first few nights were spent awake enjoying their youth, doing everything but sitting still. It was like coming back to life after months in college or focused on football for them.

In response you stuck your tongue out in mockery as you laughed. Your eyes focused on your friends, trying to get their attention to see if they wanted to go back to the house.

Fermín and one of your friends were near the shore, making out for quite a while now. Ferran and Pedri were hugging like two drunks laughing with each other, Fer was still chatting with some of the girls. Pablo and Hector were also chatting with each other. While the younger ones Lamine, Nico and three of your friends, were running around the sand with the ball on their legs.

"I'll go rest, you guys can stay" you said laughing at their complaints.

"Do you want us to go with you?" one of them asked. You denied, you didn't have beds assigned yet but you didn't care who you got to sleep with since you guys always used to come here and sleep with anyone.

You wave to your friends while wiping your sandy butt, your gaze drifted to the guys and you got a weird smile from Pablo, he was the one you had the least relationship with of the group but you liked him, maybe because you had never had the chance to get to know each other enough. So you quickly smiled back at him before turning your back to walk away from them, the house is a bit far from the beach so you walk carefully so you don't hit anything.

A sigh leaves your mouth as you feel the summer breeze you love so much, finally with your head free and at ease. This place was perfect. You arrive at the house in a matter of minutes and go upstairs to the room where your things are, you need to take a quick shower before you go to bed. You are full of sand and a little wet from the last time you dove into the water.

When you finish showering, brushing your teeth and drying your hair a bit, you wrap yourself in the towel to go out and get dressed. As you leave the room, you jump a little in fright when you see a figure sitting on the edge of the bed, staring at the floor as he plays with his feet.

Pablo.

His head comes up and he finally sees you coming out of the bathroom. You smile a little as you look into his eyes.

"Hi" he says barely.

"Hi you" you greet him with a smile.

Your wet feet walk carefully around the room dodging young man who follows you with his eyes. You hold the rolled up towel tightly to your chest, covering yourself and feeling embarrassed for being like this. You smile nervously as you take the clothes out of your suitcase, thinking you'll have to change in front of him or go back to the bathroom, it's a little awkward especially since Pablo keeps looking at you like nothing. You should have taken your clothes to the bathroom but you forgot, you weren't alone in the house to walk around like this but you thought you were alone here or that one of your friends would show up but not Gavi.

After an awkward silence you turn to him. You bite your lip as you feel his deep gaze on yours. He hasn't said anything yet but your cheeks start to heat up for some reason. Why? You've never felt self-conscious around him or any of the guys.

"I wanted to bring the boys but they are refusing to come back inside" he mumbles stretching his shoulders back.

You laugh at his words. Of course they are. They won't come until the sun hits them hard in the morning, if it were up to them they'd still be partying until New Year's Eve.

"It's the first night, they'll sleep after the fourth" you say laughing as you deny and Pablo laughs a little too.

Silence returns and your gazes are still glued together but you remember that you are still only wearing one garment (and not at all secure). You clear your throat and wrap your hand around your chest.

"Close your eyes" you ask him as you take the clothes in your hands.

He looks at you confused with his eyebrows raised.

"I have to change..." you stammer pointing subtly at yourself.

He doesn't seem to mind and goes back to roaming your body with a look that makes you shiver. He barely relaxes his lip and you hide a sigh when he finally nods indifferently. Hadn't he noticed that you were practically naked? The expression on his face made you doubt. He didn't care that you were like that, he came into your room, watched you for minutes and now didn't seem to care if you changed in front of him.

A tingle ran down your spine at the thought that you were closer than you had ever been. It was the third time you had come to this place, your friends were friends of Pablo's friends, you used to go out, have dinner, hang out, all together but you had never felt like this with him.

Gavi sighs bringing his hands to his eyes and covers them without complaining. When you make sure he's not watching, you take off your towel and run your underwear down your legs quickly. You grab the oversized shirt and quickly pull it on covering your body as you try to hide your discomfort and nervousness.

"Will you stay here?" you ask as you approach the chair and lay out the wet towel.

You clear your throat after noticing the question. How awkward. Fuck. It's like you're inviting him to stay. He lifts his shoulders.

"Can I stay here?" he says looking at you.

"Sure" you agree without any problem, finishing arranging the clothes on the bed and floor, trying to act normal.

You weren't embarrassed that he's staying but it was kind of weird. Normally you guys used to be friends as much as any of the other guys, though you had never gotten as close to Pablo as you did with Ferran, for example. Still, you didn't mind sleeping with him, or Ferran, Pedro or any of the guys or your own friends, it's not like it was a big deal, you were all trusting enough to sleep in the same bed and you were friends.

After watching you finish settling in, Pablo gets up from his spot. He takes off his shoes and his beach pants leaving him in his underwear and t-shirt. You don't look directly at him, but you can see his pale, beefy skin out of the corner of your eye, making you bristle. You bite your tongue and crawl into bed without saying anything, without even looking at him. You don't dare. Your belly flutters as you feel him open the sheets beside you and climb into bed with you.

"Are you... having a good time?" he questions after a while.

You know he's staring at the ceiling and so are you, they're far apart and still. You relax your dry lips as you feel a shiver run through you at the sound of his strong, honeyed voice.

"Yes, I love it here" you admit nostalgically. "Do you?" you also ask.

"Yeah, it's great" he sighs and you nod.

It's a little uncomfortable, you have to admit, but it doesn't feel bad either. You're curious to know why he wanted to come here... there are five other rooms and a super comfy couch. But you don't dare ask. The smile he gave you at the campfire comes back to your head and your cheeks catch fire. What's wrong with you? You look like you're suddenly fifteen again.

Again, there is an overwhelming silence. You can only hear their quiet breaths in unison. Pablo sighs deeply and you bite your lip staring at the white ceiling as if it were a work of art. Why are you so weird? You think to yourself as you turn your body around with your back to him so you can get more comfortable. Your body relaxes as the sheets embrace you and you gasp with pleasure as you feel the softness in your limbs, today had been a long day and you were looking forward to going back to bed to rest. You feel how the softness of the mattress helps your senses to relax little by little and you try to fall asleep.

A movement makes you shiver as Gavi's body rolls between you and settles behind you. His leg brushes against yours and you swallow nervously. One of his hands grabs you around the waist and pulls you close to him, your back is pressed against his chest and you gasp as you feel his warmth invade you. However, you say nothing. You don't refuse. You don't run. You don't move.

Your eyes slowly open again and his hands embrace your body, his legs touch yours and you caress him a little. It's a pretty comfortable position, you have to admit. His body hugs you from behind, his hands wrap around you and for some reason... it feels good. Too good.

It may sound cliché and even ridiculous but it's the first time someone hugs you like this. So delicate, so warm, so different.

Your heart starts to race when you feel on your back how his heart beats fast, maybe because of his daring to hug you or maybe because he's nervous. You don't know but what you do know is that you are. Your palms sweat and your pulse races, as if you're having a mini seizure.

His face sinks into the hollow of your hair and neck and you hear him sigh. Your hand moves and stays on top of his, enveloping it. Shit.

You are paralyzed. You just grabbed his hand. Like an idiot. Why did you do that? What will he think now? He'll think you're an idiot. You just held his hand like it was... romantic.

You quickly let go and bite your lips nervously. But your heart stops when Gavi takes your hand again and puts it under his, wrapping it around him, like you did before. Only this time it's him who takes it.

Fuck.

It's fucking romantic. And you don't even have feelings for him, do you? You fight your thoughts when you think of all the times you felt shy under his gaze. For all the times you found him looking at you while you danced, sang, or played at the campfire. For all the times you felt weird around him because for some reason, Pablo made you feel different from everyone else.

Did you like him? Sure, Gavi was good looking. Everyone would like someone like him. But you liked him differently. Like he was the only guy you wanted to get his attention. Like he was the only guy you wanted to be noticed, looked at, touched.

You gasped. You really liked him. But you could only confirm it now when his body was behind yours and his hands were touching you. Damn it.

«You liked him and you liked him a lot»

You know he's awake, you can hear him sighing behind you. You bite your lip when unconsciously your body slowly turns towards him. Gavi seemed to be waiting for him, because he himself helps you turn around with his hands on your waist.

When your eyes meet his, the world stops. The little light from the window enters and focuses directly into his eyes, illuminating his glow in them. You feel your belly contract and you want to kiss him. You want to touch him. You want to have it. Pablo watches you delicately, his fingers squeezing your back, as if encouraging you to come closer and you do.

One of your hands cup his face and you bring your lips to him, slowly and softly. When they touch, your belly roars. You don't even move, you just want to feel what they taste like. They are wet and taste sweet, warm and soft. A few seconds pass and his hands on your back, pulling you to him to kiss you. Strong and passionate. Needing your lips, as you need his lips to reciprocate.

Your hands encircle his neck and you pull him close to you, feeling his hard chest muscles on your chest. You kiss fiercely but deep and delicate. His skin feels warm from underneath yours and you gasp as his tongue enters your mouth. It's the best kiss you've ever had. Damn. You don't even take time to breathe properly when they part in a matter of milliseconds you take his lips again.

Desperate as if it were a drug. Kissing him hard and sure. Your stomach is a dance of butterflies, your body trembles and you're dying to feel it. No one had ever kissed you like this, no one had ever made you feel like this. What had changed now? Clearly it wasn't just the fact that Pablo liked you. There was something else. Something deeper in you that you still couldn't figure out.

His hands lift you up and help you sit on top of him, while they continue kissing. It's not sexual at all. It's just different. That's not to say you don't want to touch him in that sense, of course you do. But for now it's enough for you to kiss him. His lips are addictive, tentative, warm. You want him to kiss you until you're breathless. You want his arms to hold you. Hold you.

When your lungs beg for air, you part and your foreheads are pressed together as you sigh for air. His eyes fall into yours and he smiles as he licks his lips savoring the taste of you still on them. You gasp desperate for air. His hands taste from your thighs to your back and he caresses you while yours are on the sides of his neck.

"You are" he kisses your lips. "Fucking" he kisses you again. "Gorgeous" he kisses you again with each word.

A shy smile seems on your lips and you kiss him soft and wet again. You are lost in his mouth, in his gaze and in his caresses. You can't tear yourself away from him. It's as if you've been waiting for this your whole life but never dared.

Is that why you wanted to come back to this place after the last time? Because like no one else you had hoped to return to the Canary Islands to see your friends. Although you weren't sure if you wanted to see your friends... or you wanted to see Pablo.

"You made my life fucking hard, nena" he mutters in agitation. "I wanted to kiss you since two summers ago, since I saw you at the airport, while you were dancing at the bonfire, while you were laughing with your friends, at every moment" he confesses and your heart squeezes.

"Why didn't you?" you question in his eyes.

"Because I didn't know if you felt the same" he says and your breath catches.

You also didn't know if he felt the same and for that reason you never approached him that way. Although you weren't that aware of your deep feelings for Gavi either. At least until tonight.

"Then do it now" your hands go around his face.

"Oh yes. You'll get tired of me, nena" he laughs nuzzling his nose against yours.

"I don't think so, Gavi" you say laughing before crashing your lips against hers again.

[cc-cobalt-1043]

Comforting words can go a long way (A sonic 3 oneshot):

It was late now at the Wachowski campsite, Tom, Maddie, Sonic and Knuckles had drifted off to sleep hours ago but despite his best efforts Tails couldn't sleep.

He could only think of one thing...Stone.

Tails couldn't think of why, but despite being Robotnik's lackey Tails had never thought of him as a particularly bad person, not only had he seemed genuinely horrified when he heard about Gerald Robotnik's plans for Earth, but the man had tried to shield him when Shadow attacked them...that had to count for something right.

After tossing and turning for a good while now and still unable to sleep he got up with a irritated huff and grabbed his backpack walking out the tent.

Sitting down near the now dead campfire he pulled out his Miles electric and tapped away at it.

After several minutes of tapping away he located Stone.

The man was located at Kings Cross Station in London, however according to the schedules no trains were departing for several hours and apparently Stone's signal had been stationary for a few hours now.

Deciding he needed to do something, anything to help the grieving man Tails pulled out a ring he'd been keeping for emergencies he threw it and stepped through.

London:

Stone was sitting on a bench at Kings Cross, the station was deathly silent, the usual trains weren't running at this time, Stone noticed several parked in the platforms but they weren't the reason for him being there.

He was looking up at the stars as well as the now damaged moon, he couldn't get his thought of the doctor.

People only saw them as two madmen but to him Ivo Robotnik was a friend...yes a very very flawed friend, but one nonetheless, the two having met back when Stone was in the military, the two having formed something of a partnerships, neither he nor Ivo had been able to figure out what they were and now they clearly never would.

"Erm, excuse me." A tiny voice said.

Taken by surprise Stone looked and saw the young Fox, Tails or something looking at him with a pair of bright cyan eyes.

Stone blinked not sure if he was hallucinating but after a moment he realised he mustn't be as the fox kit was still here.

"Not to be rude, but how did you get in here?" Stone asked.

"I used a ring, how did you get here?" Tails asked blinking innocently at him.

"That's for me to know and you to find out." Stone said simply.

He looked at Tails who simply stared at him.

"So what are you doing here...Tails was it?" Stone asked.

Tails nodded.

"Technically it's Miles, but you can call me Tails." Tails told him.

Stone nodded.

"So Tails, what brings you to merry old London?" Stone asked.

"I wanted to see you, make sure you were ok." Tails said.

"Oh I'm just fine, all lollipops and rainbows." Stone said bitterly.

"I may be a kid but I can recognise sarcasm you know." Tails said crossing his arms and looking at him with a pout that even Stone thought looked adorable on the kits face.

"Alright fine I'll level with you kid, I've just lost the man I loved over some stupid thing I barely know the details of, he was the first person who actually treated me with some level of respect after I withdrew from Afghanistan and yeah you know what, maybe he was kinda crazy, and maybe he was a bit of a jerk at times but we had each other and that was enough, I loved him kid and now without I'm completely lost and confused, do you have any idea what that's like Tails." Stone snapped.

He looked at the fox seeing his tails had wilted and ears drooped back and he frowned.

"Sorry kid, I didn't mean to go all dark and gloomy on you." Stone said.

"Actually I kinda get it, when I was younger I was always picked on for my extra tail and my smarts, even my own parents had abandoned me by the time I was three." Tails said.

Stone grimaced. "Wow, that's horrible." He said.

"Well I've been staying with Sonic, Knuckles and my mom and dad for a while now they took me in and loved me regardless of my flaws, but if I lost then I guess I'd feel like you do right now, I know it's probably not what you want to hear right now, I just want you to know I understand." Tails are.

Stone looked at the kid in front of him, he would be lying if he said the kid's statement hadn't resonated with his own lonely childhood.

"Sorry, didn't mean to give you my life story." Tails apologised.

Stone shrugged.

"No Tails, that actually did help, guess we have more in common than we thought." Stone said.

"I guess." Tails said.

Just then the Fox let out a very wide yawn, it was then Stone noticed just how late it was, he looked at Tails who looked absolutely exhausted, if he was right about how young the kit was he should have been in bed and fast asleep hours ago.

"You have a way home right?" Stone asked.

Tails suddenly realised he hadnt grabbed a spare ring and face-palmed when he realised his error.

Stone let out an amused snort.

"I'll give you a ride home, want me to carry you?" He asked.

"Tha---s." Tails said, the rest being drowned out by another almighty yawn and he climbed onto the mans shoulders.

Stone simply snorted again and made his way out of the station and towards crab-bot as Ivo had dubbed it.

Thankfully the streets were quiet even by London's standards so thankfully they got very few looks.

Stone wasn't sure when but at some point the kit fell asleep on his shoulders.

The Fox's soft snores echoed in Stone's ears as he walked and not even he could hide his smile at the child's innocence, expecially when the world seemed so determined to snatch it from him.

They got to the crab-bot and Stone set the snoozing fox down in the co-pilot seat, the kid shuffling slightly in his sleep using one of his tails as an improvised pillow.

Stone smiled at the adorable sight before setting course for Green Hills.

By the time they got there it was early morning and when they got to the campsite the Wachowskis were staying at Stone could see the kit's family looking for him.

They certainly weren't expecting to see Stone appear with said Fox snuggled up in his arms.

"Relax, I'm just bringing him home." Stone said seeing the alert looks on Tom, Knuckles and Sonic's faces.

He handed Tails over to Maddie who took the sleeping fox with a much kinder look than the others were giving him.

Tails let out a tiny yawn and groggily opened his eyes looking at Maddie with a sleepy smile.

"Hi mama." He mumbled sleepily cuddling into her.

"Hi pumpkin." Maddie cooed before heading to the kids tent with the exhausted fox, the two talking in hushed whispers.

Stone turned around and was about to leave when he saw Sonic in front of him.

"What were you doing with Tails?" The blue hedgehog demanded.

"Nothing, he came to me, we had a chat and he couldn't get home so I gave him a lift." Stone said truthfully, well he was hardly lying was he.

Sonic gave him a look but seeing no trace of a lie nodded.

"Well, thanks for bringing him back...and look I'm sorry about Eggman, yeah I didn't particularly like him, but he did the right thing in the end, and despite our checkered past...I guess I can respect him for that." Sonic said.

Stone nodded.

"Thanks Sonic...you've got a good brother there, take care of him." Stone said.

Sonic nodded and with a brief smile Stone climbed into the crab-bot and departed the Wachowski campsite.

[livingdeadmlm]

Could I get some head cannons of Arthur and Reader just having a domestic life? Simple things like shaving while he brushes his teeth, I just want to see a happy ending for my baby girl and to also let myself be delulu a bit

yessss I might make the fireplace its own fic, would anyone want that? let me know lol

This life with you was one he never allowed himself to dream of. Even with Eliza or Mary, he never dared to think of a soft life with them for more than a fleeting moment. But after the gang fell apart, the two of you ran with John and started to live on Beecher's Hope. 

Building a house near John for the two of you to stay in. It is an unspoken truth that none of you wanted to be separated from each other; the wounds were still too fresh. 

The three of you would fall into a sense of normalcy, visit each other often to check in and not feel so alone, and have one meal together most days. Usually, John helped himself to whatever you cooked the night before because he's too lazy to cook. 

However, John had to learn to knock on your front door before barging in; all it took was one time catching you and Arthur kissing by the fireplace for him to never walk in unannounced again. In fact, now he yells when he's outside that it's him and asks if the two of you are decent. 

The two of you were fully clothed, your boots were not even off yet, but he insists he walked in on the worst thing he has ever seen. 

Speaking of that fireplace place, it's Arthur's favorite area of the house, other than your bedroom and his art room. He loves to lie in front of it with you, cause it's like how the two of you would sit outside by the campfire fire but now, well, it's inside and safe from bugs and wild animals.

And he does get a bit touchy, and it feels very romantic to lie with you by the light of the fire. Warm and safe in a house that the two of you built together.

Waking up each morning, he can't help but hold you a little tighter against him. Sometimes he thinks that maybe you’d disappear if he lets go. 

He has an art room he uses when he has free time after farm work, plenty of sketches, and paintings framed up. He has a window that faces your backyard where plenty of small animals scurry by or rest in.

When a bunny made its nest back there, it couldn't stop watching to make sure everything was okay and none of the babies got hurt.

Eating meals with you at a table? He brags about it at saloons when he goes for a night out. 

Some husbands groan and whine about “the wife nagging them to be there for dinner,” but Arthur is checking his pocket watch and leaps from the bar stool the second it hits 6. Of course, he can't say that it's you, but he does say 

“See ya, fellers, I got a hot meal waiting for me!” 

“Tonight's my favorite, I'll see y'all next time,” he says every night, no matter what you're cooking.

He likes to come up behind you, wrap his arms around your body, and rest his head on your shoulder as you cook. 

Having more things to eat other than stew feels amazing to him.

Now that the two of you are inside more, he likes stargazing. Neither of you can sleep. It's past midnight, and the two of you step outside in your pajamas, sit on your porch, and just look up. It's the same stars he always looked at every night, but everything is different now. 

Now having a tub to yourselves, you either take turns washing each other or get in at the same time. Doesn't even lead to sex 90% of the time. 

Arthur just likes the warm water and being next to you.

When Abigail and Jack come around, you two are the boys' second home. He loves to come over and spend the night for a change of scenery.

Plus, when he's frustrated or upset, he knows he's allowed to use the guest room in your house just to relax and get away from his parents—good old teenage angst.

In the mornings, when you're both waking up and washing your face, you don't fight over the mirror cause Arthur stands behind you as you shave to do his hair.

[rdrclo]

hellooo! i love your writing and i wanted to send you a little fluff prompt if you’re interested:)

i would love to see arthur praising and being gentle with reader as she does tasks around camp or out on mission when its hard for her.

thank you for your time and continue your great work<33

I LOVE this idea sm the second it came through i got straight to it😭

I hope this is what you wanted, i tried to make arthur really gentle and he is SUCH a kiss arse here, in the best way possible though .. lots of admiration☺️

-

Stitches (the good kind)

Arthur Morgan x Reader

Arthur Morgan asks for a sweet favour, and with the way he admires you so openly, you couldn't dream of telling him no.

1.8k words.

-

You're sitting on a crate near the campfire, needle darting in and out of a torn shirt. Your fingers move quick, the rhythm second nature after years of patching up worn fabric. Arthur watches from a few feet away, arms crossed, a cigarette smoldering between his fingers.

"You're real good at that," he murmurs, breaking the quiet.

You glance up briefly, giving him a small smile. "Had plenty of practice."

Arthur steps closer, crouching beside you. "Still. You're quick, but don't seem to.. nick yourself. Steady." His voice is low, admiring.

You shake your head, focused on your work. But Arthur watches the way your hands move, the way the firelight catches in your hair, and when he speaks again, it's even softer.

"Don't reckon I ever told you how much I appreciate you." His gaze lingers, warm and unwavering. "You take care of everyone. Always fixin' things— not just clothes, this whole damn camp." He chuckles, shaking his head. "I dunno what we'd do without you."

Your stitches falter for just a second, fingers tightening around the fabric. But before you can find the words to answer, Arthur reaches over, thumb brushing lightly against your knuckles.

"Just sayin'," he adds, voice low and genuine. "Ain't a soul here as good as you."

You swallow, throat tight, and let out a small breath through your nose. Arthur's hand is warm, calloused from years of hard work, but his touch is impossibly gentle. It lingers just a second longer than it should before he pulls back, clearing his throat.

You force yourself to focus on the shirt in your lap, but your fingers suddenly feel clumsy. The fire crackles beside you, sending little sparks into the air, and in the distance, you hear someone laughing—probably Sean causing trouble again. But right now, it all feels far away.

"You mean that?" you ask quietly, still not looking up.

Arthur exhales, a slow, deliberate sound, and then he shifts, sitting fully beside you instead of crouching. His shoulder brushes yours, solid and warm. "'Course I do."

There's something about the way he says it, so sure, like it's the most obvious thing in the world. You finally meet his eyes, and for once, Arthur Morgan—the man who can talk his way out of anything, who always has some clever remark ready—is silent. Just watching you.

You clear your throat slightly, suddenly feeling quite flustered. Arthur is a handsome man, with a kind heart deep inside, and of course you've known that since you met him. But you never thought of him as... a suitor, he never seemed to be one for romance, however now, there's a particular ache on your heart you're struggling to ignore.

"You ain't gotta say nothin'," he murmurs. "Just... wanted you to know."

A gust of wind sweeps through camp, rustling the leaves and sending a shiver down your spine. Without thinking, Arthur shrugs off his coat, draping it over your shoulders before you can protest.

"You're shivering," he says simply.

You huff a quiet laugh, shaking your head. "You always this gentlemanly?"

Arthur grins, eyes twinkling in the firelight. "When it comes to you? Yeah. Reckon I am."

Your heart stumbles over itself, warmth pooling in your chest. Arthur doesn't move away—just sits there beside you, close enough that you can feel the heat of him even through the coat.

And for the first time in a long time, camp feels a little less cold.

The fire crackles between you, casting soft, flickering light over Arthur's face. He's quiet for a while, his gaze drifting from your hands to the fabric in your lap, watching the way your needle moves through the cloth with effortless precision.

Then, as if the thought just came to him, he tilts his head slightly and asks, "Hey... can you do that thing with the patterns?"

You pause, needle hovering just above the fabric. "Patterns?"

Arthur gestures vaguely with one hand. "Y'know. The fancy stitchin'. The, uh... what's it called?"

"Embroidery?"

"Yeah, that." He nods, a little sheepish, and you can't help but smile at the way he says it—like the word itself is some foreign concept to him.

"Why?" you ask, amusement laced in your tone.

Arthur shifts, rubbing the back of his neck. "Was thinkin'... maybe you could do somethin' on my shirt cuff?" He rolls up his sleeve, revealing the worn fabric of his favorite work shirt. "Nothin' too fancy, just... somethin' to remind me of you."

You blink at him, caught a little off guard. "Really?"

Arthur shrugs, glancing away like he's embarrassed. "Yeah. If you don't mind."

There's something oddly endearing about the request, and before you even think about it, you nod. "Alright. What do you want me to stitch?"

Arthur hesitates, looking down at his wrist. "Dunno,"

You hum in thought, running your thumb over the cuff of his sleeve. "I could do a little horseshoe," you suggest, glancing up at him. "For luck."

Arthur's lips quirk up at the corner. "That'd be real nice."

You reach for your needle and thread, and Arthur extends his arm toward you, holding his wrist out with quiet patience. His hand is steady, palm open, waiting.

It's such a simple gesture, but something about it sends warmth curling through your chest. He trusts you.

You take his wrist gently in your hand, and Arthur just watches you, eyes softer than you've ever seen them.

"Hold still," you murmur, threading the needle.

Arthur chuckles, the sound low and warm. "Ain't goin' nowhere."

And as you set to work, Arthur stays quiet for a while, his arm relaxed in your grasp as you work. The firelight casts long shadows over the camp, flickering against the edges of his face, highlighting the creases around his eyes. Every so often, you glance up, expecting him to have lost interest, but no—he's watching you with quiet fascination, like there's something about this, about you, that he doesn't quite understand but likes all the same.

His wrist is warm beneath your fingers, solid, steady. You take your time, making each stitch careful and deliberate, but you can feel Arthur studying your hands, the way your fingers move with practiced ease.

After a moment, he exhales, shaking his head slightly. "Hell."

You glance up. "What?"

Arthur huffs out a small, amused laugh. "I just.. ain't never seen hands work like that. So fast, so sure," His voice is warm, appreciative, and when you don't respond right away, he keeps going. "Most folks, they rush things. Try to get through it quick, don't care how it turns out. But you..." His gaze lingers on your fingers, the needle gliding effortlessly through the fabric. "You take your time. Make sure it's done right."

You feel heat rise to your cheeks, but you keep your focus on the stitches. "S'just how I was taught," you murmur, but Arthur only shakes his head again.

"No, it ain't just that," he says, voice softer now. "It's 'cause you care. You put somethin' of yourself into every little thing you do."

Your breath catches for just a second, but you cover it by adjusting the cuff in your hand. Arthur must notice, though, because his smile turns just a little more knowing.

"You do that with everythin', y'know," he continues. "Not just this."

You raise a brow, still trying to keep the focus off yourself. "Oh yeah?"

Arthur nods. "Yeah. Always lookin' out for folks. Always doin' the little things no one else bothers with." His voice turns thoughtful. "Ain't a lot of people like that."

You bite the inside of your cheek, fingers tightening slightly around the fabric. "Ain't nothin' special about me, Arthur," you mumble, half hoping he'll let it go.

But he doesn't.

"Nah," he says, firm but not unkind. "That's where you're wrong."

You feel his gaze, steady and unwavering, like he's trying to make sure you really hear him. And when you glance up—just for a second—you see it in his eyes. The sincerity. The quiet admiration. The way he looks at you like you're something good in a world that ain't got much of that left.

Your fingers falter slightly, but Arthur doesn't move, doesn't rush you. He just watches, patient, waiting, until you clear your throat and return your attention to the needle.

You keep stitching, heart beating a little faster, and Arthur—satisfied with whatever's just passed between you—leans back slightly, a small, contented smile on his lips.

"Reckon I'll be wearin' this shirt a whole lot more," he muses, and you can hear the grin in his voice.

You shake your head, smiling despite yourself. "Glad to know my work won't go to waste."

Arthur chuckles, tilting his head as he watches you work. "Ain't a damn thing you do that's wasted, darlin'."

And just like that, the warmth in your chest spreads a little deeper, a little fuller.

You pull the final stitch through, securing the thread with a practiced flick of your wrist before snipping it with the small pair of scissors you keep tucked away in your sewing kit. With one last sweep of your fingers, you smooth over the little embroidered horseshoe on Arthur's cuff, making sure it sits just right.

"There," you murmur, brushing off an imaginary speck of dust. "All done."

Arthur lifts his wrist, inspecting the work. The horseshoe is small, subtle, stitched in a thread just a shade lighter than the fabric. It's nothing flashy, nothing extravagant—but something about it fits him perfectly.

A slow smile spreads across his face. "Damn," he mutters, running his thumb over the stitches. "That's real nice."

You watch him carefully, waiting for him to make some teasing remark, but none comes. Instead, he just stares at the embroidery like it's something worth keeping, something worth treasuring.

"You like it?" you ask, voice quieter than before.

Arthur glances at you then, something unreadable in his eyes. "Yeah," he says simply. "I do."

The warmth in your chest spreads, creeping up your throat, and you quickly turn your attention to packing up your sewing things, trying to find something—anything—to do with your hands. But Arthur doesn't move.

After a moment, he clears his throat. "Might have to get you to fix up more of my things," he muses, rolling his sleeve back down. "If you don't mind."

You huff a small laugh. "That so?"

"Yeah." Arthur's voice is light, teasing, but there's something softer underneath it. He leans in just a fraction, lowering his voice like he's telling you a secret. "Like having traces of you around me."

Your hands still for just a second, but Arthur just smirks, tipping his hat as he stands. "Thanks, sweetheart," he says, voice warm, before turning toward his tent.

You watch him go, your fingers still tingling where they'd touched his wrist. And as you sit there, you can't help but smile—because now, whenever Arthur Morgan rolls up his sleeves, there'll be a little piece of you stitched right into his life.

[sivyera]

cinnamon girl

frozen 2 elsa x fem!northuldra!reader

༺☆༻

"We are called Northuldra, we're the people of the sun." You heard Yelena say as you watched your people welcome the Queen and princess of Arendelle with opened arms after they found out that their mother was on of us.

You watched the whole interaction from afar, you didn't want to participate. You were still suspicious of them, the fact that their mother was one of us didn't change the fact that people from Arendelle once attacked you.

You rolled your eyes on this whole situation and went back to your teepee without noticing that the Queen of Arendelle saw you.

It was already dark when you were sitting next to your campfire near your teepee in the village. You had your baby reindeer's head placed on your thighs while you were stroking it's head.

You heard the kids laughing with the snowman that arrived with them and you had to admit that he was kinda funny. As you were stroking your baby reindeers head you heard someone clear their throat. You looked up and saw the Queen of Arendelle herself.

"May I?" She asked politely and point at the space that was next to you as if she wanted to sit down next to you.

You slowly nod your head and she sat down. That caught the ears of your baby reindeer who stood up and started sniffing her hand. She offered you a warm smile but your face remain stoic.

"Do you need something?" You asked her calmly as you were stroking your baby reindeers fur. She raised her eyebrow and giggled awkwardly before speaking again.

"I noticed that you were far from others when we came, why is that?"

Now that was your turn to raise an eyebrow. You simply shrugged your shoulders and continued stroking you baby reindeer. "It's simple, I don't trust you." You answered calmly to her question without looking at her.

That caught her a little of guard, because she thought that the Northuldra people are in peace with her, clearly you weren't. It made her confused and once again her curiosity got the best of her.

"Why don't you trust me?" She asked curiously as she tilted her head a bit to one side. You looked up at her with raised eyebrow, was she serious? It was obvious why.

"Your people betrayed us, attacked us, that's why." You said in a harsh tone yet still you remained calm. Elsa took a deep breath, she could have known that you're gonna say that. She still didn't knew the whole true but she understood you.

"Look, I apologize for any mistakes that people of Arendelle ever did, but I don't know the whole truth yet, like why is this voice calling me." Elsa said in a calm voice and gave you once again a warm smile at the end. You looked into her eyes for any signs of a lie but there was none. She was genuine.

You felt a bit sorry for her, you could see that she was desperate to find the truth she needed or the voice that was calling her. You also felt bad that you were judging her before knowing this.

"A voice?" You asked. You were also hearing some voice or sound but you thought it was the forest speaking or the wing singing, so you wasn't paying much attention to it.

"Yes, a voice! It's like singing or calling me, I-I think I'm going crazy." She laughed. Elsa was a bit nervous about telling you about the voice, it may sound really crazy to someone and she didn't wanna be judged or mocked.

"That's strange." You said as you looked up at the night sky. Sometimes you could find the answer in the stars but know it was pure chaos.

Elsa nodded slowly and looked down at her hand that was buried in your baby reindeers fur. "You are a strong and a smart woman, I know you will figure it out." You said calmly as you return your eyes back on her.

Elsa was shocked. This, this was all she needed. Words of appreciation. She loves Anna and she appreciates her help but Elsa needed to figure it out herself, not with Anna behind her all the time, putting herself in danger.

She needed to know that she can do this. She needed some credit and you gave it to her, which warmed her heart. She couldn't help but smile at you with a small blush covering her cheeks.

"Thank you, I needed this." She answered with the same wide smile and blush on her cheeks.

You return the smile and nod your head. She actually wasn't that bad and you now really hoped that she will find out the truth she seeks.

It was getting darker by each minute so you decided to go back to your teepee. As you and her stood up from the ground you said goodbye and good night to each other.

Few minutes after she turned and started walking to her borrowed teepee, you stopped her by stepping in front of her. Before Elsa could ask what you needed you kissed her cheek. Then you smile, wished her good night one more time and went to your teepee.

Elsa froze at the place for few more seconds before her face became red as a tomato. Her fingers touched the place on her cheek where you kissed her as her smile got wider.

She promised herself that after she finds out the truth, she will come back to you and take you on a proper date.

[percyluvr]

helloo, could i request a leo valdez x daughter of poseidon!reader headcanons? thanks 🦈

leo valdez x daughter of poseidon!reader summary: hcs for leo with a daughter of poseidon reader

when y'all first started dating, percy was a bit of a hater

y'know after the whole......... firing on the romans thing

but after a while it was fine

bc y'all r too damn cute

you sneak out of cabin 3 to go see leo a lot

and it's kinda annoying to percy sometimes

cuz you're nowhere near as sneaky as you think you are

but he likes it bc then he can have annabeth over

so it's kinda a win win

but anyways!

you guys sneak out to go sit near the lake

and just cuddle and talk

sometimes y'all fall asleep

and wake up to water splashing your face (it's percy)

other times you sleep in cabin 9

but percy knows either way

he always finds y'all LMFAO

he's so annoying to y'all

but it's all in good fun

bc you and leo prank him back

y'all have like a youtube prank war going on LMAOO

ANYWAYS enough abt percy trynna annoy y'all

leo is such a sweetie

he's always making you things

especially little ocean themed charms for your bracelets

you make him matching bracelets. out of the charms he makes.

UGH my mind

anywho

you sit in cabin 9 watching him make shit

and he gets a lil nervous with you watching him so intensely

sometimes he messes up what he's making because ur so distracting

and he just tries to play it off like he meant to do that

it haunts him at night LMFAOO

anyways

you made him a flame-resistant bracelet bc u know how he was always worried about burning your bracelets

and he actually cried

like he bursted out into tears and gave u the tightest hug ever

he might've cracked one of your ribs

shhh don't tell anyone..

he LOVES when you take him underwater

y'all just be chillin down there from time to time

until percy starts lurking down there too...

percy is a menace to y'all frl

during meals, y'all always sit at the same table

consequences be damned

everyone at camp is SO sick of y'all

pda central i swear

this man COULD NOT get his hands off of you to save his life LMFAO

always cuddling at campfires

late night swims n shiiiii

if ur ever cold

yk he's got u bbygirl

hes like a damn heater

but like

he cant turn it off

so ur like dying of a heat stroke when yall cuddle during the summer

he feels bad

but he loves being close to u

he's always thinking ab how lucky he is to have u

and how he doesnt deserve u

and u know that he thinks that

so ur always reassuring him that hes good enough and u will always love him

hes pretty insecure but he tries to play it off as no big deal

but ur always there for him

and thats something he loves ab u

y'all just get each other on a different levellll

poseidon lowk LOVES him

#prouddad vibes

and hephaestus loves u too

yall lowk got ur dads to be besties

thats how powerful yall r together

y'all are always tg

like 24/7

yall schedule to be in charge of the same activities so you dont have to be away from each other

how yall dont get sick of each other is BEYOND ME

ig thats just how it be when ur in love!

[mayasaurusss]

Day one: Mushroom hunting

Today is quiet. Everyone is doing their best to provide for the group: finding wood to burn, gathering herbs or hunting. You sit near the campfire, cutting off wood with the point of the knife to create makeshift arrows. You hear her before you see her. Lottie sit next to you, looking at your work. "What are you doing?" she asks, attempting to small talk with you, only to get shut down by your sour mood. "I'm making an arrow. Isn't it obvious?" she's a little hurt by your words but doesn't say anything. Both of you changed since the crash, and your relastionship is slowly deteriorating away.

You guys never even kiss that much anymore, only exchanging quick pecs here and there. She knows you still love her, and she loves you too, but the impending doom hanging on your head is making it difficult to enjoy anything.

She has to think of something, and fast.

When she sees Mari chopping the remains of meat and herbs, she has an idea. "We should go look for mushrooms" she tells you with that calm voice of hers, getting your attention. "What? But- but I am making-" she shush you before you can finish your sentence. "I know what you are making, but we should go look for food".

"Okay, I'll go take Misty-" you feel her hand pressing down on yours, her dark eyes peering into yours. "Let's go, just the two of us".

"But...Misty can recognize mushrooms..." you point to where the cabin, where Misty is, probably checking in on Ben.

"She's not the only one who can do that" her legs strech as she gets up, towering over your figure, "So? Let's go".

This is how you end up tailing after Lottie, hearing leaves crunch beneath your feet.

"Are you sure you know how to distinguish mushrooms? I'd rather not be accidentally poisoned" you kick a chestnut away, accidentally hitting Lottie's shin with it. She looks at the chestnut, then at you, then again at the chestnut before continuing to walk.

"Yeah. I know mushrooms. I have been reading a lot of books about them" that sound pretty weird coming from Lottie. The tought that one of the most popoular girls at school is truly a nerd at heart is endearing at best.

You let out a small laugh, "What's the sudden interest in mushrooms?" Lottie hums in thought, recalling an old memory of hers.

"When I was little, I had gone to my home's backyard. It rained the night before, so there were mushrooms everywhere". With the point of the knife you used prior, she carves a sign on one of the trees, indicating your passage.

"I was a pretty dumb kid, so I thought that those were just normal mushrooms. I didn't know how to cook them -obviously- so I took a bite out of one". She lets out a small laugh, one that you have missed ever since the crash. "I got food poisoned. My parents had to drive me to the nearest hospital and I had to get a stomach pump".

"So I decided I would study them so I wouldn't get poisoned again. Then I learnt that they're very complex..." she stops for a moment in her tracks, thinking, "...fungi".

"You forgot what they are, didn't you?" you only recive a huffed hum in response. Suddenly, Lottie bends over and inspects the root of a tree. There are various mushrooms growing at the root of the tree, golden and funnel shaped. "These are Chanterelles. They are good for eating" she cuts the stems and places them in her backpack.

"What about these?" you gesture to some white ones with a round top. "Are their gills brown or yellow?" you look to see a reddish brown colour on the underside of the caps.

"Brown" Lottie's voice rings behind you, "Take it, it's edible".

"And these ones?" you point to a small patch of round and flat mushrooms. They are white in colour, darkening to a deep brown towards the centre.

Lottie tails behind you before you can touch them. "No! Don't touch those!" she takes your wrist in her hand and holds it, worry written all over her face. "H-Have you touched them? Are you okay?" the situation is less than ideal to think so, but you can't help but feel a slight hold on your heart when you see Lottie so worked up over your safety.

"Uh- yes, yes I am okay" she breaths out a sigh of relief, helping you stand up. "So...are those very poisonous?", Lottie let's out a worried laugh, "Well, they're called 'Death Cap' so, make of that what you will". Lottie seem absent, having gone silent. "Look" she says, attracting your attention.

The last sunrays are flooding in between the trees, tinting the forest floor with a warm light. You can see the sun peering in between the branches, red like the last flames of a dying fire. Wind blows through the leaves, creating an echo throughout the entire forest.

You are at loss of words, only admiring the beautiful scenery in front of you. "It's beautiful, isn't it?" then there's Lottie, standing as a black figure against the sunrays. She is ethereal.

"Shall we get back?"

You speak, and your voice doesn't truly sounds like yours; your heart cries for something. "I missed you" is what you tell her, earning a sad smile from her, "I know".

[undiscovered-horizon]

[Apparently, all it takes for a doomed man to feel hope again is bad flirting and corny jokes. Or maybe it's about the comforting presence of someone he loves?]

Enjoying my work? You can leave me a tip on Ko-Fi | Have a request?

Whether Gale wants it or not, he's a quite predictable person. His reliability seems to extend far enough for you to always be able to correctly guess where he might be when the wizard is not near his tent. Although his tendency for routines might be mistaken for something dull, you've always thought of it as somewhat comforting - that among all the chaos that your life has become, there's a sense of regularity; the comfort of knowing how to navigate certain situations.

Just as you knew he would, Gale is sitting by the riverside. His back is slouched as he mindlessly reaches to grab a blade of grass, tear it off, and let his fingers play with it. Brown eyes would be intently staring at the flowing stream if their owner wasn't so lost in thought.

He hears you coming, dry leaves crumble under your feet but he makes no effort to look over his shoulder. Maybe you're actually a wild raccoon that will finally put him out of his misery... On second thought, that is a rather pathetic end for a wizard as great as him. To die by a raccoon. Ha!

"Hey handsome, come here often?" you ask as you sit down next to him.

Gale's robes once smelled of musty books and seawater but during your travels, they have lost their original fragrance in favour of a fresh aroma of pine needles, campfire smoke and herbal medicine. It gave him an "edge", if such a word could coexist with the wizard's homebody way of life.

"Only when I wish to wallow in pity," he answers. Although it's fleeting, almost secretive, you do notice the glance he gives you.

You raise an eyebrow at his response. "And that's often?"

A sad chuckle rumbles in his chest. Gale looks down at his fingers, for the very first time studying what his hands do with the long blades of grass. "A lot more than I'd like to admit." He actually bothers to make himself sound light-hearted but the dread eating him up has already soaked into his words.

You put your elbow on your knee and rest your chin on top of your hand. The new angle allows you to see more of his face, not that it changes your impression. Something's eating him up. "Is this what pretty wizards frequently engage in? I think I ought to update my schedule."

He looks almost like a painting, you think. The one a cleric would put up at the temple, a depiction of martyrhood in the name of something greater. Normally, you'd shrug at the thought of some poor sod thinking that making themself suffer will somehow please their god. It sounds like a questionable freedom of choice at best. But in Gale's case, you can't just shrug. Not anymore. Not since the two of you made it very obvious there's nothing platonic going on.

"I think you'll find that a moping wizard is hardly treasured company."

"Then maybe I should help him stop moping." Playfully, you bump your shoulder into his.

A sad smile graces his face. His brown eyes give you a quick glance again. Gale just can't help his longing. "As much as I appreciate the thought and the effort," he tries to sound unbothered, "my troubles already take up enough of your time. The others might want to have a word with you too."

Not a thing about Gale's statement surprises you. He's always wearing a facade of "Don't worry about little old me" but having gotten closer to the man, you know he's far from that - he wants someone to worry, only doesn't have the pride to ask for that. Part of him probably thinks he ought to earn the right to take up the space in someone's mind. How silly.

Gale's eyes return to you when he sees your fingers sneaking between his hands and a blade of grass he was playing with. No matter what he might say and how laid back he attempts to appear, all of his half-hearted bluffs dissipate when he forms a tight grip around your fingers.

"And I want to have a few words with you," you tell him in round terms. "Well, I want to have many things with you but I guess I can settle for a good old-fashioned conversation."

"I, erm..." he hangs his voice at your allusion. The blush on his cheeks is barely visible in the darkness of the night but you can tell it's there - his whole body is suddenly on fire. Gale clears his throat. "Enlighten me, then! What sort of lexicon do you wish to bestow upon me?"

You can't help the whole-hearted chuckle that leaves your lips. "You're really adorable when you talk all sophisticated." Gale laughs nervously at the compliment and he's just about to say something back but before he gets the chance, you reveal the truth about your arrival. "On a more serious note, I didn't have any endgame plan. I just thought that I'm going to ask you what's on your mind and no matter what you answer, I'm going to bless you with my presence until one of us falls asleep."

For the first time this evening, Gale's eyes linger on you for a long while. Although his initial embarrassment at your boldness is now gone, a sense of nervousness lingers. But do not misunderstand - it's a welcome kind of tension; the anxiety of holding something dear and fearing breaking it. "I'd very much like that," he answers. A small smile of genuine happiness curves his lips.

Gale momentarily tenses up when you lay your head on his shoulder. Then, as though paradoxically a weight has been lifted from his back, he finds himself sighing.

Strangely enough, he feels... calm. Too caught up in his thoughts of impending doom and past failures, Gale has been oblivious to the good things in his life. Especially in the present. He tries to grasp at the fleeting thoughts he had been pitifully entertaining for the past hour or so but they escape his focus. Now that each of his breathes is filled with the smell of campfire smoke and fragrant oils that stuck to your skin, the doom that had been haunting him before dissipates like storm clouds blown away by the wind. Part of him wants to laugh - the morbid scenarios that once rendered him sleepless seem so trivial now. Gale was dealt a bloody difficult hand, yes, but that doesn't mean it's impossible to play it, does it?

He's known hope for a long time but only now does he see her. And what a wonder it is that she's wearing your face.