#dont wanna write about war

[swordfaery]

anyway my favourite thing about dead men fanfiction is the wildly different characters we all write. like. not even the ones who have been dead for years and have so little actual characterisation but even the ones who were alive in canon were probably very different one hundred, two hundred, three hundred years ago. also theyre under characterised in fiction. also we are all just having fun

[glauces-notebooks]

rewatching night at the museum for the first time in a while and wow. i missed this film.

[clicheantagonist]

WiP Wednesday Friday

just shy of the weekend!!!

Thankies for the continued inclusion in the tags: @socially-awkward-skeleton @adelaidedrubman @aceghosts @josephslittledeputy @shallow-gravy and @inafieldofdaisies

I'M BACK ON MY BULLSHIT AND I'M FINALLY POSTING THE BOYS AU after I completely changed the plot I worked on for months a day and a half ago. Ehehehehe chaos.

Be gentle, I really did just let the first impulsive thought win after months of struggling to write and KEEP writing.

“You'd sell me to the Devil without a second glance. Trade me for a paycheck if you got the chance. […] One of many, but you say the best you've ever had. So tell me that you love me, then stick the knife in my back. God, I really worry 'bout the people that you stab, but it's your turn soon. Karma is a bitch like you.”

-Maisy Kay (ft Teisto), “Karma Is A Bitch Like You”

 “There was some other God then, a God for whom the spilling of blood was a prayer, an act of devotion. And they’ve been praying to that God their whole lives.”

-Brandon Taylor, “Filthy Animals”

“Shepherd.” Alex answers, work phone trilling loudly beside her as she lounges in bed, watching the news with morbid fascination. It seemed the Supes had beaten the mad scientists and their corpo overlords in the race to control the country. Not something on Alex’s yearly bingo list, but not entirely shocking, either.

“Got a job for ya, love.”

Alex sits up, eyes narrowing as she looks frantically for the remote to mute the tv.

“I’m sorry, but I’m not taking new clients right now and – “ Alex starts, laying low amidst the current political unrest.

There’s something familiar about the voice on the other end of the call, but it brings a vague, anxious connotation with it.

“Aw, don’t remember me, eh? That stings.”

Alex’s lips pull up in an amused smirk. At her age, coupled with her substance abuse and all the head trauma through the years, her memory isn’t what it once was and she’s open to being wrong.

“Refresh my memory.” Alex invites, curiosity gnawing at her. Its not often she can’t recall a voice, certainly not one as distinct as this guy’s.

“You and yer hubby had a run in with tha C.I.A. some years ago over biological weapons trafficking.”

Alex has to think back a moment, there had been several close calls with various law enforcement agencies throughout the years, but there’s a reason Alex is still a free woman.

“City?” Alex presses, drawing a blank.

“Miami.”

“Were you a bribe or a break?” Alex asks, not finding the further information helpful.

“Break. Ya dislocated me shoulder.”

He doesn’t sound annoyed or resentful, rather it sounds like he’s chuckling around his words.

“Ah! Yes! Handsy Fed that treated me like I  was bein’ trafficked! I do remember you. Got some tracking skills, Mister - ?” Alex laughs in recognition, the memory flooding back of the scene she unintentionally caused when some DHS assholes wanted to get a little too hands on with Wesker (and their bags). There was no quicker way to piss Alex off, especially at the end of a long, stressful retrieval mission. She'd been more than a little upset over being heckled by the stupid government after that.

“Butcher. Glad I made an impression.”

 “We are the last people standing at the end of the night. We are the greatest pretenders in the cold morning light. This is just another night, and we've had many of them. To the morning we're cast out, but I know I'll land here again.”

- Bastille, “Get Home”

Alex makes the short flight to Delaware, to meet Butcher in the smallest, most 90s diner she’s ever been in.

He’s already there, sitting in the last booth opposite the door. The diner is long and narrow, like a strip mall bar. There’s a cook barely visible in the little window behind the front counter, and a tired looking waitress straightens up off the table with a sigh, reaches for a menu and passes it to Alex as she passes the table.

“Here ya go, honey. Sit wherever ya like and I’ll be over with coffee.” She instructs, fixing a smile on her face that doesn’t look genuine (but Alex is glad for the attempt to seem happy).

“Thank you. No rush.” Alex takes the laminated menu and continues towards Butcher’s dark shape in the back. Alex notices her heels tapping on the tiles louder than the old TV in the corner, over the counter, playing the news.

‘Good ol’ 24 hour news cycle. Worst thing that ever happened to this country.’

“Good morning,” Alex greets brightly, sinking into the other side of the booth, facing the door, and making eye contact with the former Fed. ‘Well he’s quite handsome. That’s a plus.’

Butcher makes no attempt to hide the way he sizes Alex up as soon as she nears the table. Alex knows right away she’s dealing with a predator like her; there’s a look that comes with that, one that sees more than most would at first glance.

‘That’s okay, I’m eye-ballin’ you too, handsome.’ Alex thinks, casting him a cursory once over before returning to the single page plastic menu. From her peripheral, Alex watches the tired waitress return with a white mug and pot of coffee.

“Need a minute, hon?” The woman asks, causing Alex to look up with a pleasant smile.

“I’m ready actually. I’ll do the steak and eggs, rare, over medium, no toast, and home fries, please.” Alex orders, waiting for the brunette to stop writing on her pad before offering the menu back.

“You hungry? I’m payin.” Alex asks the stoic ex-Fed across from her, noticing he makes no attempt to even acknowledge the waitress.

Butcher’s eyes narrow briefly in Alex’s direction before he answers, still not bothering to look at the waitress.

“Jus’ eggs an’ toast. Scrambled, wheat.” He mutters, voice a gravelly rumble that Alex wouldn’t mind hearing more of.

“You got it. I’ll have that right out for ya.” The waitress chirps, sounding a bit more awake, and seemingly not taking offence to Butcher’s stand-offishness.

They wait for her to leave before Alex speaks again.

“How safe is it to talk here?” She asks, reclining in the booth, stretching her legs under the table, crossing them at the ankles, toes resting on the bottom opposite booth. She reaches up, rubbing her eyes and blinking them clear.

“Safe enough for some specifics. But I’m gonna come righ’ out an’ say it now – this ain’t for tha faint of heart. They all gotta go, an’ if you get in me way, you will, too.” Butcher tells her seriously, jumping right to the meat of the situation, as it were. Alex appreciates that in a client.

Alex’s lips twitch up, eyes half-lidded even as they occasionally shift between the door, the counter, and the man in front of her.

“I appreciate the warning. Do you expect me to get in your way?” Alex asks, playing it diplomatically, she wants to get a read on this man who managed to find her – its not often those outside her very particular circle manage to locate her.

Butcher smiles.

“Ya never expect it, but it happens.” He replies coyly. Alex raises a brow, smile widening the slightest bit.

“I think I understand. As long as you keep me in the loop, you won’t have to worry. I’m still alive because I deliver.”  Alex replies, knowing well what kind of animal she’s dealing with now.

“That’s what I hear.” Butcher replies, the muscles in his face visibly relaxing.

“So hang on, what makes you think I’ll take such a dangerous job with no guarantee of payment?” Alex chuckles, cutting into her steak.

“Ya don’t survive this long doin’ stupid shit like that. Sell it to me.” Alex requests, gesturing vaguely in Butcher’s direction with the piece of steak speared on her fork.

“Aw c’mon, don’t bust me balls, love.” Butcher grumbles around a sheepish smile Alex knows is not genuine.

“Get used to that. C’mon, convince me why I should risk my life for a stranger, taking on what could well be an actual Fool’s errand?” Alex encourages, curious as to what’s up Butcher’s sleeve. She can tell he’s quite calculating and clever, certainly he’s thought of this before reaching out to her.

“Savin’ tha world ain’t enough?” Butcher asks, still smiling, knowingly this time. He’s teasing her.

Alex hums a laugh before popping the piece of steak into her mouth. She chews and swallows before she replies.

“That was very cute, but you wouldn’t have reached out to me if you thought that line would have worked.” Alex replies, unaffected.

Butcher nods and laughs softly.

“You’ve kept a low profile since ‘e died. Condolences, by the way.” Butcher tells her abruptly, still smiling that malicious little smile. Alex knows her mask cracks some at the unexpected mention of Wesker, but she rolls with the punch, no stranger to the mind games people play.

‘I play them better.’

“Thank you,” She replies, voice the slightest bit choked. He knows more than she would like him to.

“I’m askin you because you’re rudderless. Adrift in tha open ocean. Wouldn’t it be nice to ‘ave direction and purpose again? Really shake up tha world, jus’ ta show ya can?” Butcher asks, leaning forward conspiratorially, arms resting on the edge of the table.

Alex tips her head and sets her fork and knife down, regarding Butcher critically. It’s concerning he’s so confident about his read of her.

“Son of a bitch, I’m in. Fuck it.” Alex answers, around a stunned laugh, reaching over the table with her right hand to shake, and Butcher grasps it firmly, pulling her in over the table.

Alex gasps, but catches herself before she lands chest first in breakfast.

“We gotta leave now then, you’re workin with a marked man.” Butcher murmurs around a reckless smirk that makes Alex think she’s found an unexpected comrade.

Her brows shoot up and her expression twists briefly in stunned shock, more over being physically dragged than his actual words.

‘I’m a magnet for troubled men.’

“Woulda worn different shoes, if I knew that.” Alex replies, expression relaxing into a soft kind of annoyance.

[okaybooner]

[boone cannot be reached at the moment. please hang up and try again]

[altfire]

sucks i cant look up starfield on any social without seeing a million posts about how bad it is and how its flop is affecting the industry. like i understand the gripes and the game def isnt the huge success bethany thought it would be but god is it a crime to want to see ANY content from actual fans

[citruslullabies]

FROM THE RIVER TO THE SEA, PALESTINE WILL BE FREE🍉

🍉🍉🍉🍉🍉🍉🍉

[miraclemaya]

hmmm.... ideas in my head

[vcrnons]

the vernon mistreatment intervention letter i saw on twt this morning certainly is…………….. something

[pan3m]

talking to quinn thinking about jett at the victors meeting.

[hardygalwrites]

Originally posted to FFN on the 3rd of July, 2017

Simply archiving a writing challenge I did back in 2016 up to 2017 and featuring my favourite writing pieces from each week of the challenge here on Tumblr :]

← Week 46 (BB) – Week 48 (BB) →

Cartoon: Transformers Prime / Robots in Disguise 2015

Characters: Smokescreen, Knock Out, and Bumblebee, with appearances from numerous other characters (even ones not featured in the cartoons)

Synopsis: An Autobot Elite Guard rookie, a Decepticon medic turned Autobot, and an Autobot scout turned warrior turned street cop - three very different bots with a wide range of stories to tell. And we are going to spend the next year exploring said stories through daily-written drabbles, be they angsty, humorous, gut-punching, or just plain odd! Who doesn’t love a challenge? (2016 to 2017)

—

The Return of MECH

The sound of radio chatter crackled through the woods. Bumblebee froze, before hiding as much as he could among the trees. More chatter sounded not too far away, and Bumblebee took a peek.

He had to hold back a gasp.

His perp was there, unconscious and surrounded by a group of heavily armed, disturbingly familiar humans. The dark uniforms, the advanced weaponry, the military training...

'Scrap, scrap, scrap...!' Bumblebee pulled back as quickly and quietly as he could. 'What're they doing here? I thought they were gone after Silas disappeared!'

He tapped his comm., hissing, "Team, back to base. Now."

Claustrophobia

"You're not claustrophobic, are you?"

What Bumblebee wouldn't give to shake his helm in response. He settled for an annoyed sigh. "No, not yet, anyway."

He tried transforming into bipedal mode again, failed miserably, and groaned. "Primus, and I thought the inverse problem sucked, but this is even worse! What is it about my T-Cog that has everyone going after it?"

"Maybe you're just special," Smokescreen suggested.

Despite being cramped and irritated, Bumblebee couldn't help but chuckle at that. He really appreciated Smokescreen's company and awkward attempts at tactful levity.

"Didn't know being special came with so much grief," Bumblebee said drily.

Partner After Partner

Depth Charge groaned, pinching the area between his optics. "Slaggit. 'Bee, I'm beginning to think you're cursed."

"I just haven't found the right partner, sir."

"Really? What the slag was wrong with this one?"

"He's a hazard," Bumblebee exclaimed. "Even in the most low-risk situations! You can't tell me that's not a problem."

"And what was Twister's problem?"

"She's never sober." Bumblebee shook his helm. "Seriously, we need to get her help."

"Well, what about Shakedown?" Depth Charge snapped. "You can't tell me he wasn't a good cop!"

"Sure he was! And he wasn't gonna be going anywhere with me as his partner."

This is Why I Don't Have Partners

"You have nothing to do," his partner exclaimed confidently. "So what's the harm in living a little?"

"I said I'm not gambling, Taper," Bumblebee said exasperatedly. "Why are you trying so hard to get me to hang out with you? Until now, you've been just fine with- Oh, no..."

"What?"

Bumblebee groaned, refusing to look at his partner. "Taper, please tell me this isn't some ploy to get me to watch your back because your gambling problem has finally got you in trouble."

Taper hesitated briefly before laughing. "What? Why the slag would you think that?"

"Oh, sweet carrier of Primus..."

Yeah, That was a Bad Time

The 'Con had gone straight for the throat and squeezed, possibly looking to pop his helm off. Bumblebee didn't know, but when his throat began to dent under the pressure and his voice box began to crackle, it was as though a switch had been flipped.

Strongarm later reported the arrest to be quick, though painful for everyone involved. Bumblebee had no way of judging for himself. He hadn't been mentally present for most of it. His team had eventually snapped him out of his panic, and it was clear they were concerned and looking for an explanation.

Bumblebee didn't give them one.

[cadetral]

They bonded over their traumas and cool shiny swords.

[sukugo]

i had.....r2ani/obikin dream

[afterthelambs]

.

[seancamerons]

I need to stop fighting people over opinions on a stupid fb group for degrassi. I got some people mad, boohoo. I just feel so dedicated and passionate person and sometimes people get butthurt when they're simply wrong. It's probably a casual fan tbh, or a jerkass set in their ways. Everyone is entitled to their own opinions but I see red and boom, I got alot to say and if people get mad oh whatever. Get over it it's just a show. I sometimes take it too far, sure, but at least I admit it when I'm dead wrong. Fact and opinion. Canon and fanon. Apples and oranges. Haters gonna hate.

[honeytonedhottie]

what i learned during my reflection period⋆.ೃ࿔*:･🧖🏽‍♀️🎀

as you may or may not have noticed, i've been hiatus for most of the month now. and i disappeared because of personal reasons, and one of those reasons being that i felt i needed to reflect. here are some things that i've learned and realized during my reflection time.

this is quite personal to me, but i wanted to kind of have a heart to heart with you guys and im sure that someone is probably struggling with what i mention in this post so i hope this is comforting...💬🎀

WHY I FELT STUCK IN MY LOA JOURNEY ;

i was literally doing the most and it felt like such a chore at the time. i would force myself to affirm in ways that felt unnatural, i was letting myself get bullied by the 3D, even though i KNOW i dont have to do a thing. i was putting way too much effort in the wrong way.

WHAT'D I DO ABOUT IT ;

i took a step back and RELAXED. i did what felt natural again and enjoyed manifesting again and because of that i've had success story after success story...💬🎀

DOING A SELF AUDIT ;

i wanted to take a second and expose toxic behaviors and patterns that i noticed i exhibit and that have started to affect not only my physical but my mental in a very very negative way.

i'd been struggling with regulating my emotions and managing them so i was a walking ball of stress 💀. a beautiful ball of stress but stress nonetheless. i just felt so stuck.

WHAT'D I DO ABOUT IT ;

i went through the motions and after having a total meltdown and doing a bit of journalling i released everything, giving myself a completely clean slate once more.

i did a bit of a refresh and did miscellaneous things to make myself feel like im starting again. things like self concept work, changing the theme of my phone, taking an everything shower + bubble bath, having a pinterest makeover and getting a trim on my hair.

i forced myself to drink more water, and go for long walks not only to get some sunlight but to get my heart pumping and push myself out of the depressive rot that i had been in for months internally, but had pushed itself out as soon as summer started.

THE DEATH OF A SITUATIONSHIP ;

i got really attached to this boy 😭 but he was such a piece of work. like he did that hot and cold shit, but i rly rly liked him so i ignored the obvious red flags. but i got to a point where i just felt used and embarrassed. upon further reflection i think i didn't wanna let him go because he was so fine 💀, like 6'5 muscular kind of fine.

no matter how handsome a guy is if he has an ugly personality or if he just treats u badly then hes not fine at all...💬🎀

WHAT'D I DO ABOUT IT ;

i went no contact. thats like the easiest way to get over someone i think lol. i went no contact and i just manifested better things for myself. like being asked out by a bunch of guys and wingstop to comfort myself 🧋

also i focused on what i got out of the whole thing. i got the redirection that i wanted, PLUS i was filled with inspiration for my song writing.

SONG RECOMMENDATIONS ;

i want war (BUT I NEED PEACE) - kali uchis

eternal sunshine - jhene aiko

let you go - clara la san

needy - ariana grande

AT THE END OF THE DAY ;

i wanted to include this section as a reminder that everyone goes through shit. things happen. its okay to be affected by it and its okay to be sad. the most important thing is to not dwell on it too long. remember that you are not a victim and remember how amazing you are BECAUSE YOU ARE. you are amazing and no matter what happens, regardless of anything your gonna be okay and your gonna be in a much better place, it starts with putting one foot in front of the other...💬🎀 (love honey)

[queer-little-demigod]

Hi lea!!!! Can you write about an clarisse la true x apollo!reader

Clarisse got in trouble for something (what's new tho) and got a punishment of helping out with the little demigods art class for 2 weeks (or however long) the volunteer teacher is reader. At first Clarisse did NOT wanna be there she acted like a baby for the first few days but after she got more involved and started to understand she enjoyed it (she would never admit it), she started talking to the kids more (she totally has favorites, reader has to constantly tell her dont be so obvious about her favorites 😭) it got to a point where the kids would start talking to her outside of class. Also Clarisse definitely doesn't develop a crush on reader. AT ALL. SHE DEFINITELY HATES HOW PASSIONATE SHE IS ABOUT THE KIDS AND ART AND HOW GOOD SHE IS WITH KIDS SHE DOESN'T THINK ITS CUTE AT ALL. SHE DOESNT THINK OF THAT CLASS AS ONE BIG FAMILY. I mean what???? Who said that???

Anyways when it's time for her to go reader takes some of the kids to make a goodbye sign for clarisse; clarisse takes her 100% not favorite kid on a secret mission to make an 'I'm staying' sign. Then reader and Clarisse present them at the same time and it's all cutesy!! After class, reader asks clarisse on a date via showing her a pain she drew of them on a date and hopes she gets the message!

Thank you! :)

you got an artist inside you - clarisse la rue

summary where clarisse finds herself falling in love with a girl over paintbrushes and a punishment

fic type fluff

pairing clarisse la rue x fem!apollo!reader

word count 1.8k

warnings none

The camp was usually sleepy, quiet, and mostly empty apart from a few stray campers training here and there. But with summer already beating down with a burning force, it was full of kids running around, training left right and center, and all-in-all just general chaos.

So with the burning heat came grumpy older campers, which meant fights.

And a fight at lunch is what led to Clarissa having to help the younger campers with art class, with the co-teacher being none other than you, Y/n L/n, counsellor of the Apollo cabin. Additionally and otherwise known as the girl Clarisse was smitten with.

"Clarisse La Rue if you don't stop whining like that right now, I am going to smack you," you grumbled in utter frustration for the fifth time that hour, when she complained to you about some kid not cutting the paper the way it was supposed to be cut.

For a child of the god of war, she was such a wuss sometimes.

"But they're not following-" she began to protest, but a smack upside the head with a roll of wrapping paper shut her up.

"They're seven year olds in a summer camp art class," you emphasised on those facts. "They're gonna do their own thing!"

This was how the first few days went. She complained, you disciplined both her and the kids. But once she got used to the whole routine of you both giving instructions and the final products having irritatingly distinct variations, she cooled down.

If this was going to be a punishment for the next two weeks, she might as well enjoy it.

The art room, as usual, was a mess. Glitter was everywhere, coloured pencils were strewn around, papers were on the floor, blackened and trampled on. The strong scent of glue made everyone a bit woozy, and there was enough shouting for supplies across the table to give even the calmest camper a sensory overload.

Clarisse sat in the danger zone where the most glitter was being thrown around and spilled, and her soft skin was already glimmering with purple and red glitter as she tried restoring order. However, instead of yelling as usual she was laughing along with the little kids.

One kid in particular, you noticed, she helped far more than the others. A Hephaestus kid named Dennis, who was the sweetest little thing with big, round glasses and bronze hearing aids that you had Charlie customise so they looked like metal elf ear tips.

You pulled Clarissa aside and scolded her with a smile, “Clar, you cannot pick favourites!”

Clarissa loved your smile with everything she had. So naturally, she was so captivated by it that she didn't hear you the first time. Nor did she register the scolding.

"Excuse me, but Dennis deserves special treatment--" She began, but you cut her off.

"No, he's just like the other kids, okay? Just make sure you don't pick favourites, please," you sighed and walked away, going back to showing the kids how to make paper butterflies.

But you're my favourite, she thought to herself. She wished she had the courage to say it out loud, admit her feelings for you, but she couldn't.

Later, as time went by, as days of standing in clouds of glitter and glue fumes began and ended, Clarisse found that she was apparently likeable. After classes, during training, during dinner, she'd have little kids pulling her sleeve to talk to her, she'd have kids randomly hugging her at odd times of the day, or giving her small artworks like a wonky bird or a odd-looking Cerebrus. It shocked the campers beyond belief.

But for you it just made your love for her grow.

One day during class, a Demeter kid named Flora started to cry because glitter went into her eye. You rushed over immediately and helped her up, holding her in your arms as you took her to the basin to clean her up.

"Shh, don't cry, baby, it's okay, I'm gonna wash it out, alright?" You said softly.

"Guys, focus on your work, Flo's fine," Clarisse said, clapping her hands to direct the staring kids back to work, her eyes fixed on you as you washed Flora's eyes with water gently, telling her that she should not to go so close to the page when blowing glitter off in the softest voice the child of war had ever heard.

You were so gentle, like the softest summer breeze which didn't make the leaves rustle, but cooled one's warming skin. You were so precious, with your soft smile and loving words. Your voice was sweet like honey, no matter who you talked to or how.

If your voice was bottled, she swore to the gods that she'd get drunk on it every night.

"You okay, champ?" She asked, gently ruffling Flora's soft brown hair as the girl sat down. "You're a strong girl, aren't you? Showed that stupid glitter it's place."

You giggled at the way she spoke, covering your mouth with your hand to hide it. It was ridiculously obvious that Clarisse thought the kids in the art class were like family, and it was genuinely so adorable.

Seeing her like this, curly hair pulled back in her red bandanna, arms splattered with paint here and there, with glitter shining off her smooth caramel skin with every movement she made into the light, lit up something inside of you. Seeing her without her usual scowl, pulling funny faces with the kids as she showed them how to draw a monster, made your heart beat twice as fast.

However, two weeks went by with heartbreaking speed, and before she knew it, she was in Chiron's office, listening to him gleefully say she was officially un-grounded.

But honestly? She didn't share his happiness.

Nor did you.

"What?! Already!?" You exclaimed that evening as you sat in your cabin at your desk, which had plans put out for what to make for the next art class.

"Yeah," she grumbled, lounging on your bed. "I hate it."

"That's rough, but it's okay, you can always hop in to volunteer,"

"What do we tell the little ones?"

"The truth?"

"You're fucking crazy if you think they'll go with it,"

"I'm out of options, Clar," you leaned back in your chair and put your hands over your eyes. "I love that class, and I love teaching art."

"I know, and as much as I hate to admit it," she sat up. "So do I."

The very next day, Clarisse rushed to Chiron and begged him to let her stay for that class. Even going to lengths that she told him how she felt for you.

"Fine," he relented. "You can stay with the class for as long as you'd like,"

She'd never run to the forges to find a kid so fast.

"Beckendorf!" She exclaimed, looking at the cabin counselor. "Hey, where's Dennis?"

The boy looked around, and his eyes landed on Dennis, who was inquisitively watching one of his half-sisters mold a few practice swords, helping occasionally with putting the swords in water.

"Dennis!" Beckendorf exclaimed, "Clarisse wants to talk to you!"

Dennis immediately ran over, grinning broadly, showing his gap-toothed smile. "Hi, Clarisse!" He said, excitedly.

"Hey there, big boy!" She smiled back, giving him a high five. "So listen, I'm going to need your insane artistic skills and your help..."

While you did help the other kids make a 'goodbye' sign for Clarisse, on the side you decided to confront your feelings.

You knew you liked her from the beginning, from when you first saw her infectious smile, from when you heard her deep laugh reverberating through the empty Apollo cabin on days where you both would plan lessons.

She held the key to your heart, she knew her way past your walls. She clearly also knew how to remain in your thoughts, subconscious and conscious, to the point where you found yourself in the art studio, canvas on an easel before you.

Thoughts of her, of feeling her coarse, battle-worn hands on your skin, of gazing into those deep brown eyes which were like the colour of the rain-kissed earth, and when she fought were like the evening sun, golden enough to put the wings of Icarus to shame, made your paintbrush move. It made your colours flow like the blood in your veins, made each stroke perfect enough to create the scene you most desired on the canvas in front of you.

You stepped back once you felt the need to express yourself flow away, gazing at the canvas. A scene it held, and what a scene indeed. The sky was cornflower blue, a cloudless day, with the sun’s rays shining down on a big oak tree. The leaves were paler as the golden light kissed the surface, casting sharp shadows on the pillowy grass.

But then there was vivid orange and red, a flash of bronze. In the foreground there sat both you and Clarisse, the latter having more detail than any part of the drawing.

Then the dreaded day came where you all had to say goodbye to her.

The little ones were devastated, not letting Clarisse go anywhere without following her around like baby ducklings, making her explain to them that she's not going away from camp, she's just not going to teach them anymore.

At the end of the final class, just as everyone unveiled the 'we'll miss you' poster, she and Dennis revealed their 'I'm Staying' poster, causing a loud, thunderous cheer to erupt from all of you.

Later, you pulled her aside to give her your canvas painting.

Nerves wracked your body, your palms began to sweat.

When was the last time you had felt this nervous? It was probably your cello recital the day you had come to camp...

"Holy shit, Y/n this looks absolutely amazing!" Clarisse exclaimed, taking the painting in her hands.

She didn't miss the detail you had given her, drawing her angelically, despite her thinking she was the opposite. It was so well done that the brush strokes weren't even visible.

Please get the message, you blockheaded, oblivious fool...you thought.

Deciding to act against your nerves, you asked her in a shaky voice, "That's a painting of us on a date...would you like to go on one with me sometime?"

Clarisse's heart stopped. Had you just asked her out on a date?

She was at a loss for words, they didn't touch her tongue, nor did they pass her lips. She stood there, speechless, gaping at you for a moment too long.

"I mean, I get it, you're probably not even a les--" you began, but a pair of gentle lips on yours silenced your words.

Sparks flew, butterflies went haywire, your brain short-circuited. You didn't know what to doo, just stood there frozen with shock. Kissing the girl you had liked for the last few months now.

Clarisse, however, was ecstatic. Her mind was a burst of colour, her body was ablaze. She felt like she had wings, and her heart was taking her up, up, up.

Once she pulled away, she winked at your blushing face and dopey grin.

"It's a date, L/n."

hi, it's me! lea! i hope you enjoyed this long overdue oneshot <3 requests are open via dms or asks!