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crownofgildedlilies · 5 months

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knowin' that it probably isn't true -> cool about it [4]

in which: a son of jupiter can't remember the life he lost to time and circumstance. or the daughter of mercury he lost, too.

pairing: jason grace x daughter of mercury!roman!reader

warnings: cursing, angst, slight panic attack?

word count: 5.3k

a/n: how can this possibly be the final part. like what? also, it's been forever since I've read the ending go heroes of Olympus so I cannot for the life of me remember how canon accurate this is.

one two three [four]

There was one rule Jason was always willing to break.

For you, he had murmured into the side of your head, just above your ear, as he pulled you close the first night it had happened. You hadn't been able to help the roll of your watery, red-rimmed eyes. Or the skip of your heart.

Big declaration, Jase, you had fired back, pretending your voice wasn't shaking, that you hadn't made a much bigger declaration by seeking him out after curfew.

Leave it to the daughter of thieves to break and enter into the praetor's private room.

The first night it happened, you had gotten a rather stiff and formal letter from your mother, explaining why it was simply the better choice for you to stay at camp over the holidays. In front of everyone, you had kept it together.

Alone in your bunk, you broke down.

It was an easy decision, then, to go find Jason. A natural instinct, practically, was leading you through the bunkhouse on silent, swift feet despite the tears staining your face. When you had slipped into Jason's room, he had bolted awake.

You were prepared for a lecture. Instead, he just opened his arms.

So there was one rule that Jason Grace was willing to break.

Curfew.

You were careful not abuse your privilege, only searching him out when needed.

And right now, he was needed.

Your feet carried you soundlessly through the corridors, your heart hammering in your chest and bottom lip caught between your teeth, almost bloody with worry. The dream had been fast, uncontrollable, terrifying.

Not once had you ever bothered knocking on his door, and you didn't start now, twisting the knob and careful to only open it as much as you needed to slip through, because if you went any wider the hinges would squeak and Reyna could only overlook so much.

The sight of him, asleep in bed, hair tousled and face almost peaceful, was nearly enough to settle you. But then flashes of your dream came back, and you knew you needed more.

Easing the door shut, you made sure the latch clicked in place as silently as you could manage. The absolute last thing you needed was some nosy Lar floating by seeing you breaking the rules alongside Jason.

The teasing would never end.

Despite praetor's getting the privilege of having their own rooms, they remained in standard issue sized bunks. Which meant that you couldn't help but press against him as you climbed under the covers, body already half-hanging over the far edge. The movement of the mattress jostled him awake, like always, and he slowly blinked his tired eyes open.

You remained silent as he got his bearings, bottom lip caught between your teeth to keep from spilling out the gory details of your desperation to see him before he even realized what was happening.

He twisted, copying your position of laying on his side, one arm curled underneath his head to prop it up just slightly.

"Hey, you," Jason mumbled, voice still thick with sleep. He stretched slightly, using the movement to reach out and brush his thumb across your cheek, as if he was checking for tears he couldn't see in the dim room. "Couldn't sleep?"

"Sleeping was the problem," You shook your head, kicking your leg forwards under the blanket to knock against his, just the barest excuse to touch him and confirm he was real and alive and laying before you.

"Nightmare?" Like he ever needed to ask. So few things got you worked up enough to risk getting caught sneaking into his room.

"Mhm," You hummed, anyway, eyes tracing the barest outline of his face visible to you in the dark of the room. The moon provide some light through the window, but you had Jason's features memorized from the time you were fourteen.

"What was it about, this time?" He asked, and you wished you could hate him for the way he sounded genuinely concerned and like he wanted to know. The pounding in your heart as he knocked his leg forwards against yours, a mimic of your own actions seconds earlier, would be easier to deal with.

"You." Without cracking, you managed to force the word out at a volume barely audible in the otherwise silent room. Your stare was focused on his chin, because you couldn't meet his eyes as you confessed, and his nose was too close to his eyes, and looking at his lips made you want to do something incredibly stupid.

His chin was neutral territory, even if you wanted to kiss there, too.

"Me?" He sounded like he didn't understand, which you gave him grace for. Yes, your nightmare was about him, but not because of anything he did, so much as what happened to him. Not the first of its kind, but after the fight with Krios, it stung a little deeper.

"You went on a quest, without me, again." Your murmured, gaze still fixed on his chin. He stayed silent, knowing you better than you knew yourself, knowing that you needed him to wait for you to find the right words. "And... and you didn't come back to me, Jase, you had promised, but you didn't—"

Your shudder took you by surprise, eyes squeezed shut tight to try and fight the stinging quickly growing there, your lungs burning with the effort to contain your sobs. You tried all your usual tricks to keep from crying. Counting silently, deep breaths through your nose, hands squeezing into fists so tight your nails cut crescent shaped marks into the heel of your palms leaking the slightest bit of blood.

It didn't work. The image of a broken, ruined Jason returned to you at the edge of camp burned into your memory. You knew it had been a dream, that he hadn't actually died, but the thought—

"This is stupid." You huffed, voice watery and tight and so incredibly pathetic you half expected Jason to strip you of your title of centurion. It was all so very un-Roman of you. "I'm too old to be crying over bad dreams."

"Hey," Jason murmured, voice gentle, and it worked in combination with his warm hands wrapping over yours to calm the tempest that was raging in your mind enough for you to open your eyes. His handsome face was twisted in concern, in understanding, and the tears welled up in your eyes all the bit faster. "I'd be a wreck, too, if I dreamt that I lost you."

Why can't he just say the words, you lamented bitterly in your mind. Why can't I say them, either?

"I hate crying." You managed to force out after a few beats of silence, broken only by your pitiful sniffles trying to keep the tears from finally falling down your cheeks and staining the pillow you shared with Jason.

"I know," His voice was soothing, gentle, and you let him manipulate your hand until he had your open palm splayed, pressed against his chest, his own covering the back of yours to keep you from pulling away. Not that you ever did anything but crawl impossibly closer to him each day.

You were Jason's and Jason was yours, but never in so many words.

"Feel that?" His quiet question startled you from your mind, the terrible sleep-created images replaying on a loop. Reyna apologizing for not protecting him, the weight of his golden coin pressing heavily into the center of your palm.

You're the only one he would have wanted to have that, Reyna had said in your dream when she handed off the magic weapon. And if something ever really did happen to him, you couldn't help but morbidly think that he really would want you to have it—

"Don't leave me here, now." Jason, real Jason, the one living and breathing and holding your hand against his chest—right over his heart, you realized with the sudden jolt. The beat was steady under the tips of your fingers, and you closed your eyes to focus on the rhythm, to try and match your shallow breaths to his deep and even ones. "There. Welcome back, solider."

"We can't be soldiers right now." You shook your head, eyes still shut but voice almost back to normal. And though you knew Jason didn't understand it, he didn't question.

You couldn't be solders. You couldn't be only little heroes destined to fight and bleed and die at the whim of others, of gods with self-imposed rules keeping them from helping their own children. Being soldiers had been what had ruined your dream, that had sent you racing through the dark to find him. Soldiers weren't lovers. Soldiers didn't hold each other.

Jason was trained to be a soldier. But maybe, with you, he could learn to be other things.

"Thank you," You murmured, voice almost silent as you peaked open your eyes. You had known Jason had moved closer to you, had heard his cheek brushing against the pillow you shared and felt the heat from his skin warm yours, but you hadn't anticipated the blow to your chest you received when you opened your eyes and found him close enough to taste, if you had been born into a braver body.

"After my little stunt on the War Games field with Damien last week? I figured I owed you." He teased, and the absurdity of Jason Grace finding it in himself to make such a casual joke after you had climbed into his bed mid-panic attack had a lopsided grin work its way onto your face.

"Shut up." You wanted to lean forward and press your lips against his skin, but you held back. You always held back, but only when it came to Jason. Most of your bunkmates had vocalized that they wished you had the capacity to control yourself more. "How many times have you kept me out of the brig?"

"Fair point," He chuckled, the sound vibrating through his chest and reminding you that your palm was still pressed against the cotton of his sleep shirt.

As much as it pained you, you slipped your hand out of his, but something took control of you and changed direction. Originally, you had planned on tucking your fist underneath your own chin, cocooning yourself in your own arms and trying to justify staying a little bit longer.

What ended up happening was your hand falling to rest on Jason's cheek, thumb brushing over the pearly white line of his scar. The tips of your fingers tingled, might have even shook, as they touched his lips.

All the humor was sucked from the room with your gentle declaration of such intimacy. Sure, you and Jason had long since passed through each other's barriers of personal space. Neither one of you exactly had nurturing childhoods and found relentless comfort in the other.

Touch starved, someone had once explained it as. Two people making up for lost time and a need to feel loved and held. Jason was the only one you let into your space, and as far as you knew you were the only one Jason wrapped himself around. The thought of him locking pinkies with someone besides you made you queasy and tossed you back into the moment, your palm on his cheek and his eyes on yours.

It was almost too much. You hoped he couldn't hear your heart hammering in your chest, feeling as if it was about to burst with how much you loved him.

You loved everything about him. From his smiles to his dedication and his innocent charm. To the way he fought like the weight of the world rested on his shoulders, because it did, and how he let you break the rules in his bed because he knew you better than you could ever hope to know yourself, sometimes.

"I bet it was a wolf bite." You murmured into the quiet, words tumbling past your lips before you could even think of what you were saying.

"Hm?" He must not have expected your words, because he hummed questioningly, sounding half-distracted but your touch lingering on his skin. The idea of distracting Jason Grace made you smile. It felt like an achievement.

"Your scar," You clarified, still tracing it with the pad of your thumb. his skin was warm and soft and it helped ease your remaining nerves to hold him so gently after the gruesome horror show of your nightmare. "I bet it was a wolf bite."

Jason grinned, then. Wide and bright and if you hadn't seen him call down lightning personally, you would have thought Phoebus Apollo was his father from how much blinding sunshine radiated from him, even in the middle of the night, half-asleep.

"If Lupa bit me, I don't think the scar would be so small." He teased, knocking his forehead into yours gently. You snorted, closing your eyes as you leaned closer to him, trying to remain casual as his nose brushed against yours.

"Still, it's a good story." You hummed, shrugged slightly. Jason huffed a laugh, and you felt his breath on your skin, on your lips.

"Yeah, it's a good story." He agreed quietly, his own hand reaching up to hold your face, mimicking your position with a gentleness that made you question if you should ruin the only gentle thing to ever embrace you by slotting your mouth over his, over every inch of his face.

Instead, you moved your hand from his cheek to the back of his head, holding him as close as you could without being greedy.

You knew you'd have to leave soon, or else risk getting caught, and you couldn't do that to Jason.

But you let yourself have a few minutes. You never knew how many you'd ever have with him.

It was peaceful, if only for a moment.

It had only been war, for hours.

Your voice was shredded raw from shouting orders, rallying troops, keeping Romans from turning on Greeks like Octavian had wanted.

It was the final battle, you knew. The air tasted of it, of that heavy weight that came with saving the world. You had felt it when you had gone into battle against Krios to keep the Titans from rising, and you were sick with it, now.

This time, you didn't have Jason by your side, covering your weaknesses while you watched his. You didn't even have Reyna, anymore.

I need you to stay here, Reyna had ordered you when you had argued your case for joining her on her quest to the Ancient Lands after Jason and the others. Your desperation to accompany her went beyond a bone-deep ache to see Jason again; you were going absolutely crazy sitting around at the Roman encampments surrounding the Greek demigod camp, waiting for a battle you were certain shouldn't be taking place.

If I stay here, I'm going to kill Octavian. Or he'll get someone to kill me, you countered, and two weeks earlier you could have played it off as a joke. But Octavian had become drunk on power, had appointed himself to a rank higher than praetor, and was absolutely gunning for a reason to get rid of you, one way or another.

Don't let him, Reyna had said, as if it was ever that simple. I need someone here that I can trust. Jason needs you here, too.

Your frown had deepened, no matter how impossible it had seemed.

That was a low blow, you mumbled, pissed off and exhausted, only getting more pissed off and exhausted by your own shitty attitude.

Reyna had grimaced, but did you the favor of not pointing out that it had worked. You had stayed behind, had remained with your soldiers and dodged Octavian as much as you could, knowing how very weak the leash you held your anger on was. He was looking for any excuse to put you on trial. You couldn't give him one.

But that didn't mean you didn't do everything in your power to undermine Octavian's control.

The fighting that soon followed was inevitable.

You had known from the start that it was either going to be against the Greeks or the monsters, depending on how successful Jason and his new group of friends were. If they got back in time to unify the camps like Annabeth had promised Reyna they would, then the monsters would be feasible to take on.

But Octavian started the war early. Started against the Greeks, then was forced to split forces when the monsters began their assault, too.

The groundwork you had laid against Octavian was almost unnecessary as he doomed the Romans to fight an exhausting and expensive battle they could never win. It had been almost too easy for you to take control, to knock Octavian out with a single punch and order Roman troops to fight alongside the Greeks, to use them as another weapon against the monsters.

Defend their camp as if it is our own!, you had shouted through the roar of battle, perched on the highest point you could find—an upturned chariot. The fighting had paused at your words, Greeks and Romans alike trying to see which way the attacking army would sway.

One girl on the Greek side of the fight gave orders to her soldiers not to attack your Romans, just as the daughter of Ares had promised on the few nights you had snuck into her camp to discuss that very moment.

Clarisse La Rue had been all too willing to talk war with you, double agent against Octavian, you were.

Reyna and Nico arriving with the Athena Parthenos had only sealed the deal, but even with Greek and Roman forces combined the never-ending monster army was a force to be reckoned with. Gaea herself was even pulling you in, feet sucked into the earth to tire you out faster with each step.

By the time the flying trireme arrived, your exhaustion was bone deep and felt like the only substantial thing in your life.

It was a blur, from then on. Fighting still raged. Screams still tore through the air. Battle continued and stole and ached.

Then came the explosion.

One minute you were fighting for your life, prepared to enter into the next one, and then suddenly the world had stilled around you. Whatever monsters weren't falling under the swords and arrows of demigod heroes had turned and ran, and it was almost jarring how silent the battlefield got.

Or maybe you were just too tired to process any sound. You thought you could see Reyna's mouth moving, a few dozen feet in front of you, but all you heard was a low buzzing, the thrumming of your heart, as you searched the carnage.

You weren't sure if the Romans stopped to gawk at you because you were stumbling through the mess or because you were, against all odds, still standing. You had been on the front lines from the start, had led wave after wave of assault.

By all accounts, you should have been lost to the fight. But you never gave up all that easily.

You knew there still were a million and six things that remained to do before darkness fell. First and most important to you was organizing your legion, taking count of who had survived the battle. Mourning walked hand in hand with victory, and you were well acquainted with the pair.

Except, you only made it ten steps before you saw him.

Jason Grace had completely forgotten you. Despite his promises, his sweet words and even sweeter touches, he had forgotten you and all that you meant to him. He didn't know how he used to pinch your arm to keep you awake in your more boring classes. He didn't know that he used to swap plates with you at least once a week because you regretted what the Mess Hall sprites had brought you.

He didn't know how he brushed his hands through your hair when you got worked up, and he didn't remember what the touch of your skin on his felt like.

But he was heading straight towards you, as if the destruction around him could wait and all that mattered was you.

It was enough to root you to your spot. With shaking, brutalized fingers you took off your helmet. You meant to hold it under your arm against your hip, but suddenly Jason was within five feet of you with the most determined stare, and you barely registered it dropping to the ground.

You had counted the days since you had last seen him in Charleston. It had been too long and not long enough, because no matter how much you loved Jason with every inch of your being, it also hurt too great to have him in front of you and know he didn't remember how gently he had once used his thumbs to smooth the worry lines from between your knitted brows.

"Soldier—" You started, desperate to take control of the conversation, but he was speaking over you before you even finished the second syllable.

"It's not a wolf bite." His words were firm, almost pleading. But they were also so unexpected, so out of place, you jolted back half a step. He quickly made up for the space you tried putting between you both, halting only a few scant inches from the exhausted lines of your body.

"What?" You managed to gape, chin tilted to look up at him, face twisted in grief and confusion and hope so dangerous you contemplated the blow to your reputation if you turned and ran.

"The scar. Not a wolf bite." He clarified, and it took nearly everything in you to tear your stare from his to drag down his face and find the beloved mark on the corner of his lips, right where it had been since the moment you had met him. You had felt that bit of raised skin underneath the pad of your thumb more times than what could have been considered as just friendly, had made up stories for its existence just to distract yourself. "When I was two, I tried to eat a stapler."

"Jason," The sound that left your lips could almost have been mistaken for a laugh, if someone only plugged their ears and closed their eyes. It was a haunted, aching, desperate sound, mixed with a short exhale that had Jason leaning even closer to you, somehow.

"I just thought you'd want to know." He murmured, and you weren't sure if the warmth burning your skin was from the exertion of battle, the rays of sun beating against your cheek, or the intensity of Jason's stare on you.

Familiar. He looked... familiar. Maybe a little Greek, but he was still Roman. Still an unwavering force, one that had defeated a Titan and still had enough power to tear down his seat of power in search for your battered body, almost lost to the rubble.

He looked like he knew you.

"You… you remember?" Fingers curled into fists at your side, almost buzzing with emotions you could barely even begin to decipher. Everything was a knot inside of you; thoughts, feelings, strength. You'd given everything on the battlefield, but you had been running on fumes from the moment Jason had been stolen from you. It was nothing short of a miracle that you were still standing.

"I do, now." His nod sent a shuddering gasp through you, but still you couldn't get yourself to lift a hand out and reach him. You had already had this dream—this nightmare—so many times. What happened next would likely be his dismissing you. Or worse—you would wake up.

But Jason moved first, one hand you knew like your own raising to wipe a spot of grime off you cheek before cradling your head gently. It was all the permission you needed before your own hands notched under the sides of his armor, a familiar movement always used to tug him closer to you. Metal clanged together as his chest plate hit against yours, and though you suddenly loathed the equipment that had saved your life more times than you felt you deserved, you couldn't let go of Jason long enough to free yourself from it. That part would have to wait.

"Got hit on the head a few times, talked to a couple of gods. It all helped the pieces fall back together." He explained, and you pressed your knuckles into his sides as a silent reprimand for making fun of himself getting hurt. Tears welled in your eyes, blurring your vision of Jason, and you bit the inside of your cheek so hard you tasted blood. A reprimand for yourself, too. "I'm so sorry."

"It wasn't your fault, Jase." You would have shaken your head, but you didn't want to move out of his hold for a second, and instead pressed your cheek tighter against his palm still holding the side of your jaw.

He looked ready to argue, but you flashed him a glare so fierce he thought better of it. You had been living in anger and fear for months. Having Jason back already helped, but it would take more than a few minutes for you to right yourself.

And you still stood on the battlefield.

"I remember that last argument we had." He knocked you back to reality in the gentle way only he ever knew how to do with you. Out of shame, you ducked your gaze to the ground, but he didn't let you hide. With the hand that wasn't on your jaw, thumb brushing reassuring strokes over your cheek, he held your nearly quivering chin between his index and his thumb. The way he tilted your head up to meet his stare was tender, but that had never been a question when it came to him. "Where I said there was nothing for us to do but be soldiers."

"Yeah," You were pretty sure you were speaking, but you couldn't focus on anything over the sound of your heartbeat roaring in your ears or the beautiful burn of his skin against yours.

"I was wrong." He admitted, but you knew what those words meant just the same as he knew that you would understand. "I remembered fragments of you. The sound of your laugh. How your hair shone in the summer sun."

"Sounds like you might be in love, or something." You tried for teasing but sounded like you had just been hit by a bus. Jason had only been back for a few scarce minutes and already was bulldozing you with his sweet words. If he hadn't just disappeared on you for upwards of seven months and came back to save the world, you would have threatened to kick his ass for disorientating you so much so quickly.

"Oh, I am." He grinned a little nervously, a little lopsided, and you couldn't wait any longer.

You moved first, hands darting from the sides of his armor to the sides of his face, palms flat against his skin as you tugged his head down you meet you while you pushed yourself up on your tip-toes to meet him halfway.

Kissing Jason was as inevitable as it was all-consuming. You had played dumb with Dakota whenever he brought it up, but deep down you had always belonged to Jason Grace, and he to you, from the moment he broke the rules to sit with you in that small, restricted stretch of grass when you were ten years old.

Your fingers knotted into the hair on the back of his head, grown out just enough during his time with the Greeks. You thought it suited him, and it was soft under your touch, and you mentally made a note to plead with him later to leave it alone. From the way he was kissing you like he would starve if he didn't, you had a feeling he'd agree easily.

He was warm and sweet and tasted like mint. He was everything you had imagined, everything you had never once dared to hope for. Strong hands and gentle touches, unyielding intelligence and unwavering kindness.

He was everything. Your everything.

Despite the weight of Jason's mouth on yours, you still were dimly aware of where you stood. The smell of smoke still lingered in the air, and no matter how close you pressed against Jason, you couldn't hide from the fact that you were a centurion and your legion needed you.

You had been left by almost everyone in your life, but never had letting someone go been as painful as it was to step back from Jason long enough to catch your breath and clear the fog from your mind that was a direct reaction to his touch.

"I've got to—" You shuddered, voice catching, but Jason nodded, knowing what you meant. Knowing you, knowing your mind, always. You almost shivered again at the reminder that he remembered. He knew what you were going to say, but you forced yourself to finish your thought so you could convince yourself it was real. "I've got to find my legion. Count survivors. Take stock of injuries. We've been—we've been fighting for hours."

You didn't want to leave him. You never had wanted to before, but after he had been stolen from you for so long? Now that he had confessed his love and kissed you like his life depended on it?

Now you were worried that the next time he left your side, he'd disappear again, no matter how unwillingly he went.

"Okay," Jason smoothed his thumbs across your cheeks, face ducked low towards yours as your hands fell to wrap loosely around his wrists, desperate to hold him in anyway you could. "Okay. We can do that."

"We?" You questioned, then immediately felt stupid for doing so. Of course, he meant we. It had always been the two of you against the world, and he had just gotten his memories of you back. There was no way he would let you out of his sight so soon.

"You told me the day we met that there was no getting rid of you." Jason reminded you, as if you could ever forget meeting him, as if the gods themselves had been able to keep him from remembering you. "I'm holding you to that promise."

Words failed you, but the way you surged forward to press your mouth to his in a quick, urgent kiss that you had dreamed about sharing with him for years, didn't.

"Just for the record, I love you too." You offered an exhausted imitation of a smile as you pulled away, finally dropping your touch from him. Because maybe you had Jason back, but you still weren't sure how many of your soldiers had been lost. Mourning and victory, always a solemn pair.

He opened his mouth like he wanted to say something, but someone called out your name, and the edge of desperation and worry in their voice cut through you like a knife. And Jason remembered you, knew you, and saw everything written on your face.

"We'll figure out this mess together." He swiped his thumb over your bottom lip before nudging your shoulder in the direction the voice had come from. "Lead the way, Centurion."

Your stomach was still in knots, so you pressed your lips into a firm line. But Jason was a warm strength at your back, and he kept his promise of together, and followed you dutifully.

War took and took, but sometimes it gave.

Jason, your Jason, was back. And maybe there were still a million questions to answer, boundaries to fix and homes to rebuild, but you knew Jason would be by your side through it all.

An unwavering force behind your relentless dedication.

War took and took, but things would be okay.

Things would be okay.

a/n: im allergic to sad endings (jk I just can't write them they always feel unfinished when I try) also this took me forever bc I was so incredibly worried that the finale would flop but I kinda love this so im just gonna full send

tag, you're it! @aezuria @tayswiftlovebot @bonnie-tz @folklorefantasies14 @sunshine-of-ur-life @irwinchester @bellamysnatblida @saph-nic @auroraofthesun1 @helloimamistake @maybxlle @p-rspective @lauptimist @dontstopxx @apollosfavkiddo @ebony-reine-vibes @poppysrin @valromanoff @jesuschrist2006 @pariahsparadise @killaari @marshmummy @sofiacblair

#jason grace #jason grace fanfiction #jason grace fanfic #jason grace x you #jason grace x reader #jason grace x y/n #rays of sun #cool about it

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yourpenpaldee · 4 months

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·˚ ༘₊· ͟͟͞͞꒰➳ WRITEBLR INTRODUCTION.

I don't usually put myself out there as it makes me nervous. But I've been a lurker for way too long, and it's about time I step out of my comfort zone. So, hello! I'm Dee (she/her), twenty-two, and have found my voice with storytelling.

Writing has always been a passion of mine, and continues to be the tool I turn to when I need an outlet to freely express myself. I have, unfortunately, hit a rough patch with consistency, and I'm here to bring all of that motivation and inspiration back. Especially since there are one too many WIPs sitting on the backburner, and they're all calling my name.

As someone who loves to dip their toes into every genre of fiction, I will read anything that peaks my interest. However, when it comes to creating, my works usually fall under romance and mystery. With practice, I intend on branching out into other genres I don't write often. There's a lot to explore in the world of writing, and I don't want to limit myself to only two categories.

Creating this blog provides me the space I need to accomplish the many goals I often dream of achieving. I acknowledge that it all starts with the ability to hold myself accountable. To show up for myself. To become comfortable with the uncomfortable. Putting myself and my projects out into the world is only the first of many steps, and it feels quite liberating.

I aim to use the voice I've found to not only contribute to the progression of POC representation, but to touch on several topics that remain heavily stigmatized in today's media. There’s a joy that runs through my veins every time I see someone like me on my screen or in a book. I feel seen, heard, and proud. I feel important. But as a creator, there’s that itch that can only be scratched when I create. When I make something that lets the next person know that they’re not invisible. That they're valued, loved, and appreciated. That's what I hope for when someone reads a project of mine. For them to feel the same rush of joy flowing through them as it does me.

Wow, I’m a yapper. I'd like to close this intro off with some fun facts, so here are some of my top five favorites with sidenotes because I still want to yap a bit more about the things I adore.

SOLO ARTISTS:

ARI LENNOX ✧ ˚ · . CHOCOLATE POMEGRANATE — GET CLOSE — GOAT — POF — UP LATE

HALSEY ✧ ˚ · . 100 LETTERS — I HATE EVERYBODY — NIGHTMARE — ROMAN HOLIDAY — THE LIGHTHOUSE

HOPE TALA ✧ ˚ · . CHERRIES — EDEN — I CAN'T EVEN CRY — LEAVE IT ON THE DANCEFLOOR — SUNBURN

MELANIE MARTINEZ ✧ ˚ · . ALPHABET BOY — DEAD TO ME — EVIL — NOTEBOOK — STRAWBERRY SHORTCAKE

HALIMA ✧ ˚ · . DOWNTOWN — FORD CARDINAL — IF LOVE WAS GREEN — SAMANTHA — TALK

BANDS:

5 SECONDS OF SUMMER ✧ ˚ · . AIRPLANES — BETTER MAN — KILL MY TIME — LONG WAY HOME — TEARS!

FALL OUT BOY ✧ ˚ · . BANG THE DOLDRUMS — CHICAGO IS SO TWO YEARS AGO — HEADFIRST SLIDE INTO COOPERSTOWN ON A BAD BET — NOBODY PUTS BABY IN THE CORNER — WHERE DID THE PARTY GO

FLO ✧ ˚ · . CARDBOARD BOX — FLY GIRL — IMMATURE — SUITE LIFE (FAMILIAR) — WALK LIKE THIS

PARAMORE ✧ ˚ · . BIG MAN, LITTLE DIGNITY — CAUGHT IN THE MIDDLE — FRANKLIN — MISGUIDED GHOST — PART II

THE INTERNET ✧ ˚ · . DONTCHA — HOLD ON — LOOK WHAT U STARTED — SOMTHING'S MISSING — SPECIAL AFFAIR

GAMES:

CORAL ISLAND ✧ ˚ · . IF I START LISTING NAMES, I'M GOING TO MENTION EVERYONE. BUT I'M A LOYAL MARK GIRL. AND NOAH... AND MILLIE, EVA, BEN, Y—

DISNEY DREAMLIGHT VALLEY ✧ ˚ · . THIS IS SUCH A COMFORT GAME THAT SOOTHES MY INNER CHILD.

DON'T STARVE [TOGETHER] ✧ ˚ · . I MAY OR MAY NOT STILL SUCK AT THIS GAME AFTER A SOLID THREE YEARS, BUT I'M A WIGFRID MAIN.

STARDEW VALLEY ✧ ˚ · . I LOVE SEBASTIAN AND LEAH, AND I WILL DIE ON THIS HILL IF I HAVE TO.

THE SIMS 4 ✧ ˚ · . WHERE I SPEND A LOT MORE TIME IN CREATE-A-SIM AND BUILD MODE COMPARED TO PLAYING THE ACTUAL GAME.

TROPES:

FAKE RELATIONSHIP ✧ ˚ · . MHM... JUST SAY YOU LIKE EACH OTHER ALREADY.

FATED MATE ✧ ˚ · . I'M A BIT PICKY ABOUT THIS TROPE THOUGH. THINGS TEND TO MOVE VERY QUICKLY BUT I ENJOY IT NONETHELESS.

FRIENDS TO LOVERS ✧ ˚ · . A CLASSIC THAT DOESN'T NEED AN EXPLANATION.

REUNION ✧ ˚ · . ESPECIALLY IF THEY WERE CHILDHOOD FRIENDS AND THEY REMINISCE OLD MEMORIES, OH MY GOODNESS. I EAT THIS TROPE UP EVERY TIME.

SLOWBURN ✧ ˚ · . NO DOUBT THIS IS MY MOST FAVORITE TROPE. THE BUILDUP TO EVEN THE TINIEST PIVOTAL MOMENT ALWAYS MAKES MY HEART THUMP.

TV SHOWS:

CRIMINAL MINDS ✧ ˚ · . YES, I’LL WATCH ALL 16 SEASONS FOR THE MILLIONTH TIME AND FALL IN LOVE WITH PRENTISS EACH TIME. WE WERE ALSO ROBBED OF BEARDED HOTCH CONTENT.

BRIDGERTON ✧ ˚ · . DO I CRY EVERY TIME I WATCH GEORGE AND CHARLOTTE'S STORY? YES. WILL I CONTINUE TO REWATCH IT AND RECITE THE LINES EVERY TIME SOMETHING REMINDS ME OF IT? ASOLUTELY.

THE BEAR ✧ ˚ · . I WISH I KNEW OF AYO EDEBIRI BEFORE THIS SHOW BECAUSE THAT WOMAN IS AMAZING??? LIKE, HELLO???

THE EQUALIZER ✧ ˚ · . *mini spoiler* STILL CAN'T STOP THINKING OF DANTE'S GRIN WHEN HE GOT TO SEE MEL, ROB, AND HARRY'S LITTLE WORK SPOT FOUR SEASONS LATER.

SWEET MAGNOLIAS ✧ ˚ · . HELEN, MADDIE, AND DANA SUE IS HOW I PICTURE MY FRIENDS AND I IN THE FUTURE. MARGARITA NIGHTS, BEING AUNTIES TO EACH OTHER'S CHILDREN, UGH. I LOVE THEM WHOLEHEARTEDLY.

And that concludes this introduction on me and this blog. I would love to connect and befriend other authors, so please don't hesitate to reach out as my DMs will always be open! I'd love to support and read your works, so don't be hesitant to share them with me if you'd like.

I hope you all will enjoy reading my works as much as I enjoy the process of bringing my ideas to life.

divider creds to strangergraphics ♡

#writeblr #blog intro #writeblr intro #writeblr community #writing community #writing on tumblr #writers on tumblr #writing #authors #writers #i did not expect for this to get as long as it did my oh my

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mydearlybeloathed · 9 months

Text

𝐀 𝐂𝐀𝐌𝐏 𝐇𝐀𝐋𝐅𝐁𝐋𝐎𝐎𝐃 𝐂𝐇𝐑𝐈𝐒𝐓𝐌𝐀𝐒

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: you decided to create a real life frosty the snowman for estelle blofis, a regular camp visitor. it goes... unexpectedly.

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: jason grace x fem!boreas!reader

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 6k (wow)

𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭: child of boreas reader, female reader, snowmen, ethically ambiguous magic, more plot than fluff im sorry, tooth rotting fluff towards the end, daddy issues i think maybe, serious angst ngl, i will never be normal about jason grace, canon who?

𝐚/𝐧: this had no reason to be so emotionally taxing but here we are

Being the boyfriend of a Boreas kid meant two things happened every night: one, sneaking you in from your lonely cabin to his lonely cabin, and two, sleeping with nearly a hundred different blankets.

Normally, he fell asleep easy despite the chill, but there was a lot of work waiting for him back New Rome. Jason knew this holiday at Camp Halfblood was only making that work pile up, but he tired, so he didn't care just yet. He could let the anxiety catch him after Christmas. Plus, the longer he was away from work the longer he was with you.

Jason had been away doing Roman things for at least two months, and Iris Messages and the occasional phone call weren’t cutting in anymore; despite your cold shouldered father, you were as clingy as all get out. Not that Jason minded (he was clingy too).

The next fall of New Rome University couldn't seem to get there any slower. You were both going to be there, thank the gods.

Jason started to grin at just the thought, his eyes skimming all over your peaceful face as you breathed in and out slowly. The two of you were practically buried under all the blankets, and he would have been miserably hot if it weren’t for his amazing cooler system of a girlfriend.

“You’re staring,” you suddenly sang out softly, a mischievous smirk taking your face.

Jason’s heart sped up. “I thought you were asleep.”

“Creep,” you mumbled.

He reached over to caress your cheek, tucking some stray hairs behind your ear. You leaned into his touch and twisted in the blankets, wrapping your arms around his middle and nuzzling into his chest.

He pressed a light kiss to your hairline and rested his arm on your waist. “What’s up?”

“Just thinking.”

“About?”

You blinked blearily up at him. “Christmas. I’ve been working on something.”

“Care to share?” Jason had known you long enough to know you were serious about Christmas surprises. This time of year your powers were strongest, and you always took advantage of that.

You lightly patted his chest and snuggled deeper into bed. “Mhmm. When it’s ready. Can’t let anything get out or else Mr. D will so shut it down.”

Jason was officially intrigued. “What exactly… never mind. I'd rather sleep easy.”

You leaned up to kiss his jaw. “Good choice.”

He caught your lips before you could get back to sleep, cupping you cheek in his hand and drawing you close for an everlasting moment. The thundering mosaic on the ceiling was as annoying as ever, and he swore he could feel the statue of his dad staring holes into him.

So Jason pulled the pile of covers up to hide the two of you away, thriving off your little giggle as he pulled you in once more.

જ⁀➴

A week till Christmas, and you finally felt ready to cast the enchantment. Giddiness ran through your whole body all morning, along with some nerves, of course.

It all began when you heard Chiron reading a story to some of the littler campers. They were year rounders and were feeling homesick, whining and crying so much their counselors couldn't get anything done. So, he read to them, taking some Christmas storybook from Athena Cabin and frantically narrating the tale of Frosty the Snowman.

You’d been coming by to drop off some paperwork from your well-enough paying job in the Big House, lamenting being unable to find a suitable gift for Percy's little sister Estelle. She'd be coming to camp for the Christmas Day bonfires with her mother and father, and you had yet to find something she would like.

As you dropped off your papers you heard the older of the littles cry out that she wished it would snow in camp. Another then exclaimed he wished they had their own magic snowman.

Mr. D was in the next room over, promptly laughing and popping the kids dream bubble. You weren’t having that, not one bit. And suddenly, you had your perfect gift.

The only reasonable solution was to learn how to create a magic snowman.

(Jason would later call you crazy, which is basically a declaration of love, you think.)

You sat alone in the dim lighting of your cabin, which you shared with no one but the dust bunnies. Boreas didn’t really hoe around much, which you supposed was nice, aside from the fact that it left you no roommates. Nights used to get lonely before you and Jason started saying fuck to the rules.

Little snowflakes danced around your palms before they went spiraling into the air and exploded into dozens of flurries. Slowly, bit by bit, the snow started to pile up all around you, creating a blanket of white across the floor. You had the snow down, now, you just had to trust you had your sorcery skills down.

A knock on the cabin’s skylight startled you.

You smiled, calling up, “What’s the password?”

“Jason has the coolest girlfriend ever.”

“Not quite.”

There was a sigh. “Shiver me timbers.”

“Access granted,” you sang in reply, an all too satisfied smirk planted on your face.

The skylight creaked open, letting in the moonlight as well as your boyfriend. He shivered instantly. No matter how high you set the thermostat, the Boreas cabin was always freezing. Not that it ever bothered you, anyway.

A snow flurry landed on his nose, sending Jason into a sneezing fit. “Still working?”

“Mhmm.” He watched as you tried and failed to hide a yawn.

A little smile sprouted on his face as he rolled his eyes. “All right. Bed time.”

You shot him a glare. “Don’t baby me.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it, but I’m afraid I can’t sleep without you,” he said softly, holding out a hand with such a pretty look in his eyes. If he kept on looking at you like that, you might as well fall in love with him already.

“Fine,” you sighed, plopping your hand into his and letting him haul you to your feet. “Only because you can’t function without me.”

You wrung your arms around his neck and flushed yourself against him, his arms tight around you and a cute blush in his cheeks.

A light breeze kissed your cheek as he rose off the floor, keeping one arm around your waist while the other pushed open the skylight.

“Air Jason, taking off,” you said, doing your best to mimic a pilot’s microphone and failing miserably. Jason loved it though, an airy laugh bubbling from his lips as the night air met the pair of you with no regret.

“You’re such a dork,” he muttered into your ear, eliciting a poke to the ribs from you. Jason dropped a few feet in the air and nearly sent you into cardiac arrest, a scream leaving you as your legs clambered to wrap around his waist.

Jason was laughing for gods’ sake, shushing you as he picked up speed to reach Cabin One before the harpies caught you. “Sorry, sorry.”

In through the open window and down to the floor, the wind carried you all the way, a soft caress on your skin as if the air meant to comfort the two of you. You were going to ask him if he felt it too when a wave of exhaustion found you, and you started to lean into Jason, not letting him go even when your feet touched the ground.

He rubbed gently circles into your back, his chin coming to rest on your head, eyes closing. You were cold to touch, as always, but Jason would gladly get frostbite just to hold you forever.

Eyes soft, you caught corners of glittery lights in your peripheral, turning to find a Christmas tree that had definitely not been there a few hours ago. A smile split onto your face as you rushed up to it, admiring the rainbow lights and mismatched ornaments.

Jason must’ve gone through the Big House attic to find all these. You picked off an ornament of Olympus, a selfie of a smiling Apollo and a less than pleased Dionysus staring out from the little city of the gods.

“It’s perfect,” you said, spinning back around to find Jason there.

He had that look in his eyes. You know, the one that takes all the air out of you and leaves you craving nothing more than his very presence. “One more thing.”

You followed his gaze to the ceiling, lip slipping between your teeth to contain your smile. “Mistletoe?”

His hand came to cup your cheek, eyes dipping low. “Hey, I don’t make the rules.”

How could you argue with that? Without warning you lurched forward and sent Jason stumbling back, lips meeting his in a feverish moment.

જ⁀➴

Dawn was encroaching on the camp.

There was barely a noise all across the Long Island Sound, aside from the sea meeting land, the ruffling of the harpies’ feathers, and the contented snores coming from each cabin. In the stables the pegasi huffed and dealt with the faux antlers stuck to their heads. Mr. D sat snoring in a rocking chair on the Big House deck.

The tall and proud Christmas tree at the center of camp stood looming over Hestia’s fire. Her warm face could be spied through the flickering flames, if one looked close enough. Beneath the tree’s branches were boxed gifts, some from attentive godly parents, but most placed there by Chiron (he never bothered correcting the campers when they assumed Santa Claus came in the night).

Garlands and wreaths hung from every doorway. Mistletoe was easy to find from the awnings of the Aphrodite Cabin. Poinsettias bloomed over the rooftop of Demeter’s Cabin. The smell of cookies and candy canes wafted out from the camp kitchens, the dryads tossing bits of flour and sugar at each other as they prepared something special.

It was a Camp Halfblood Christmas if you’d ever seen one.

The only thing missing was snow.

You stood on the hilltop overlooking the center of camp, embracing the December chill. The magical borders prevented outside weather from affecting the camp, but they did nothing to stop weather coming from the inside.

Flexing your palms and shaking them out, you let out a breath that crystallized in the frigid air. The water in the air bended to your will, the clouds gathered at you command. You didn’t pretend to understand weather and the science of it all, you just knew that when the water in the clouds got cold enough…

Your concentration was unrelenting even as the first few snowflakes drifted down from above, following the current of air down the valley of camp. You would need a lot more than that. Glancing at the sun peeking up over the horizon, you pushed past your growing fatigue.

There would be snow that Christmas Day if you had anything to do about it.

જ⁀➴

Jason noticed right away that the familiar warmth of your freezing body was missing from his side. Rubbing the sleep from his eyes he rolled over and noticed that your shoes weren’t at the foot of the bed.

The whole cabin was freezing, but without you, it was just getting on his nerves. He was ready to get up, throw on a coat, and maybe just start yelling your name to find you wherever you’d run off to.

That was when he looked out the window. Jason’s jaw slacked, his eyes pleasantly wide and bright as a laugh tore out of him. He jumped up and didn’t bother with shoes as he flung open the cabin’s door and ran into the snow.

Everywhere a white layer of snow sat heavy on benches, picnic tables, the cabins—nothing was safe from this Christmas Day miracle.

He laughed again and raked his hands through his hair. So this is what you’d been working so secretively on. Jason really should have guessed sooner.

The sound of boots in the snow caught his attention and he glanced over to see Piper hurling a snowball at Leo’s head. Leo sputtered when the snow hit his face, a sly grin all over his face.

Piper laughed behind her hand and noticed Jason struggling to pull on sneakers in his doorway. She dodged a melty snowball from Leo’s warm hands and jogged toward him. Her voice was tangled with a smile. “Did you know she was planning this?”

“Nope,” he said, popping the p. All around camp kids were racing outside, slipping on the icy snow and tossing on any warm clothes they could find. You were still nowhere to be seen. “Have you seen her?”

Piper shook her head and made to say something when a handful of snow was dumped down the back of her shirt. She gasped and whirled around, shivering despite the hot anger in her eyes, and took off after a cackling Leo without another word.

Snickering, Jason took another look around, sighing when he couldn’t see you in the midst of excited campers.

He turned around to go grab a jacket when a soft noise caught his attention. Some kind of grunting, followed by a startled yelp. Jason started to smile. He’d know that sound anywhere. He followed the noise around the side of his cabin, tilting his head at the sight.

You were red in the face, using all your might to roll a giant ball of snow, struggling to say the least. Estelle was standing by with rapt attention, excitement written all over her face.

Jason went to stand beside Estelle, kneeling to be at her height. He leaned in to stage-whisper, “Do you think she needs some help?”

You looked up, stopping in the process of pushing your back against the snow, huffing and puffing through your glare. Estelle giggled. “Probably.”

He saw it in your face; you wanted to flip him off, only refraining given the current company. Estelle’s eyes gleamed up at him along with a bucktooth smile. “We’re building a snowman!”

“We?” you huffed, tucking your hair out of your face and behind your ears. “I didn’t know we were pronouncing my name as we now.”

Estelle rolled her eyes. “I’m supervising.”

“Honestly, I think ‘Stelle’s doing the heavy lifting,” Jason teased.

You sighed and turned to face your work. “That’s one layer. Jason, you do the middle.”

Still grinning, he was going to protest before doing exactly as you said, when a voice echoed across the lawn. One of the Stolls (Jason knew they were a few years apart but he still could never remember which was which) was approaching, a snowball in hand.

“Yo, Y/N!” he called. “It’s getting a little soggy over here!”

You smiled like this wasn’t the first time someone had had this complaint, wasting no time in cracking your neck and splaying out your hands. A cold rush of wind enveloped you, a firm crease in your brows, before the another wave of snow rained down from the clouds.

The Stoll brother shouted his thanks, and you meant to offer a smile when suddenly the world got tipsy, everything going black for a split second as you teetered off balance. Jason’s heart dropped and he rushed to your side, steadying you against him.

“Hey, hey, you with me?”

You blinked blankly, though you nodded despite the greenish tint in your cheeks that was quickly fading. Still, Jason wanted nothing more than to sit you down and cast lighting upon anyone who tried to use you like a snow machine again.

“I’m fine,” you assured him, gaining your color back. “Just a bit tired keeping all of this up.”

Estelle was attempting to finish the snowman on her own, promptly falling face first into the snow and sputtering to her feet. You giggled at her expense, not realizing you were still leaning mostly on Jason.

He wasn’t done questioning. “How long did it take to cover the whole camp?”

“Oh, uhm.” Your brows drew together, lips pursed. “A few hours. No big deal.”

You broke away from Jason and went to help Estelle roll along another giant snowball, casting Jason a reassuring smile. He let out a sigh and tried to let it go, going to help with the snowman construction.

The three of you finished the three layers of the snowman’s body, and Estelle ran off to collect the decorations and came back with a box, her brother, and her brother’s girlfriend.

Percy held Estelle on his shoulders, the box of supplies in Annabeth’s arms. You wiped your brow and smiled so brightly upon spying them, that Jason nearly forgot you’d been focusing on continuing the snowfall all along, slowly draining yourself.

Before he could call you out you sprang to your feet and went to pick the carrot out of the box. Annabeth chuckled and said, “I had to fight Blackjack for that.”

“Aww,” you hummed through a giggle. “Poor guy.”

Percy scoffed. “Please, he gets enough carrots. He could spare us at least five.”

Before you even had the chance to reply Estelle had jumped up to swipe the carrot from your hand. A response was barely on you lips when she nearly toppled the whole snowman over trying to stick the nose on its blank face.

You sighed and went to help her, scooping your hands under her arms and lifting her so she could reach its face.

The morning went by as Piper and Leo approached the finished snowman with hot cocoa in hand. Piper sported a grin as she looked at you and said, “Mr. D is furious.”

“I hoped so,” you said.

As Piper knelt to talk to Estelle you once again chose to ignore the weightiness in your shoulders, swallowing thickly to deal with your drying throat, and walked to the near empty box. Inside was a top hat you’d been saving for last. This was what the practice was leading up to.

“Hey, Stelle,” you called. Jason came to your shoulder, brows drawn, and you shot him a smirk. “Have Percy help you put the hat on top.”

She needed no more asking, taking her brother’s hand and dragging him to the snowman. Percy lifted her just as you had, and as Estelle rested the silk top hat on the snowman’s head, you held out a hand, worked some Boreas kid magic, and sent up a prayer to your dear old dad. A flurry of snowflakes shot out from your palm and right to the heart of the snowman.

You waited on bated breath as Estelle’s boot crunched back to the snowy ground, your gaze locked on the unmoving creature of snow. One second, then two, then three, until a minute passed. Estelle ran back to Annabeth and started ranting about something, Percy right behind her as he slung an arm around Annabeth’s shoulders. Piper and Leo engaged in another snowball fight, hot cocoa discarded on the ground.

And the snowman stood still. Your lips pursed with confusion and frustration. Jason appeared beside you again, looking from you to the snowman. “What’re we glaring at Frosty for?”

“Nothing,” you dismissed with a forced grin. You let out a sigh and intertwined your fingers with his, pressing a swift kiss to the back of his hand. “Wanna head inside? You’re shivering.”

He shook his head and slipped an arm around your waist. He was warm and soft and despite how much you loved the cold, you’d never get tired of it. But you couldn’t focus on that right now; you were too disappointed.

That was until he tried to lead Jason back to his cabin anyway, and your boyfriend had a full stop, his eyes slightly horrified while also mystified. Brows pinched, you were on the verge of asking what was wrong when his hand gripped your chin. You flushed deep red at the action, another rush of warmth hitting you, but then Jason was turning your head to follow his line of sight.

A bright laugh escaped you. There, made of snow, two button eyes, and a carrot nose, was Estelle’s snowman. But now, he was living and breathing, the little twig eyebrows on him drawn taut as he examined himself, looking at himself tree branch arms.

The lot around you stood in shock, looking from you to your creation. You laughed again quite like a mad scientist, and dropped Jason’s hand to slowly approach the snowman.

“Hello,” you said, and he considered you with a blank button stare, the line of chocolate chips making his mouth curved down into a frown.

“What am I?” he asked you, dropping his arms to his sides. He looked very contemplative for a snowman.

“A snowman,” you answered brightly.

The snowman hummed. His voice was soft, reminding you of the sound of crackling fire. Ironic. “I don’t think I’m meant to be alive. I feel… odd.”

Your smile started to fade, and you glanced back at your friends for help. Estelle stood awestruck, slowly stomping through the snow to stand at your side. She took your hand and looked up at the snowman with shining eyes.

The snowman looked back at her, going quiet. “Hello.”

Estelle started to smile. “Hi. My name’s Estelle, and this is Y/N. Those are our friends.” She jabbed a thumb back at the others. “Oh, do you have a name?”

He seemed to turn thoughtful, nodding. “I believe it was Perseus.”

Estelle let out a tiny gasp. “That’s what I called you! In my head!” She turned to you in complete and utter amazement. “How did he know that?”

You could only shake you head with a smile, squeezing her hand. “I dunno. Magic?” You couldn’t help but laugh once more, casting a glance up at the sky. The wind brushed through your hair, feeling oddly like a father’s hand ruffling a daughter’s hair.

You’d never met your father, but you doubted he was a cold as the weather.

Percy, Annabeth, Leo, and Piper came to admire the snowman, introducing themselves as he assessed them one by one. Jason hooked an arm around your waist, pulling you side against his, and you practically melted onto him. Your legs felt a tad bit weak.

He pressed a lingering kiss to your temple, whispering in your ear. “You astonish me.”

A smile split onto your face as you turned to kiss his cheek. Percy started to laugh as he looked upon the snowman. “Perseus the Snowman, huh?”

Perseus was holding Estelle’s hand as she rattled on about camp and how cool her big brother was and all about the Greek gods. Perseus listened with unabashed attention, the crease in his twig brows alluding to his curiosity.

Annabeth sidled up to you, unsure how to phrase her question. “Do you… Well, was this smart?”

You gave her an odd look. “What do you mean?”

The wise daughter of Athena settled you with her seriousness. “He’s snow… you can’t keep him that way forever.”

Her words rattled you to your core, and for once, you felt the chill of December.

Morning passed to evening, and you stayed stuck to Jason’s side more by exhaustion than by choice. Not that you minded, but the jelly feeling in your legs was less than pleasant. It took some work to ward off the curious campers from bombarding Perseus, who proved to be a rather anxious snowman.

Christmas Day passed by answering the endless questions of a snowman, explaining everything he could ever want to know.

Piper and Leo had gone off to lead ornament making with their respective cabins, being head counselors and all, and Percy and Annabeth went to make an obligatory holiday call to the latter’s father. Leaving only you, Jason, Estelle, and Perseus.

The four of you were at a picnic table close to the woods, the demigods sat atop the table and the snowman rolled up to the side.

Your energy was slowly but surely coming back to you. With the sun crossing the sky and starting to descend, the need for snow was waning. You hadn’t had a demand for a few hours, and to be honest, you were grateful. Your eyes felt droopy and your shoulders ached. You wanted to sleep, but you had one more thing to keep focused on: Perseus the Snowman.

Jason drew gentle shapes on your hand, letting you lay your head on his lap as Estelle told the harrowing tale of how Percy defeated Clarisse La Rue in his very first game of capture the flag.

You were having trouble looking at your snowman. From what he said when Estelle let out a yawn, he knew exactly why.

“Look at that,” he said, drawing everyone’s attention. His button eyes swept across the lawn of camp, where the snow was melting into the grass under the heat of the setting sun. His eyes turned to you, then. “You’re letting it all melt.”

You sat up and crossed your legs, resting your hands in your lap. You blinked at him, a tug on your heart. “Yes.”

He could only stare back at you. “You’re keeping me, though.”

Perseus was very perceptive for a snowman. You smiled at him. “We’re not done talking to you.”

He smiled back. “That’s true. And when we’re done talking?”

Estelle was looking between all of you, a confused purse in her lips. Jason cleared his throat and asked her to get him earmuffs from his cabin. She nodded and ran off, nearly tripping over herself. You sent him a look. “You don’t own earmuffs.”

“Oops,” he murmured through a grin. Perseus was watching the pair of you almost fondly.

You turned back to him and searched for the words to say, but it was all lost on you. Jason continued to rub soothing circles into your skin. All the words you knew suddenly boiled over. “I’m sorry. I didn’t think what would happen when… You know.”

Perseus shifted around, a gentle chocolate chip smile on his face as he took in the scenery. “Don’t be sorry. I’m happy to have lived.”

“But… you’re going to die,” you couldn’t help but say, as if he needed reminding.

He didn’t. That much was clear by his smile. “Don’t be sorry,” he echoed. “I’ll be happy to die. Snowmen aren’t meant for longevity.”

Your throat constricted. “It’s all my fault. I wasn’t thinking.”

“You were thinking of Estelle,” he said. “I’ve made her happy. I’m perfectly fine with melting.”

You cupped a hand over your mouth and averted your eyes just as Estelle came sprinting back, chest heaving as she lamented being unable to find any earmuffs.

“It’s cool, Stelle,” Jason said, forcing a smile.

She plopped back down and huffed, looking to Perseus, then the sunset. Perseus glittered in the light, and it took you far too long to realize it wasn’t glitter, but dew.

Estelle, angel she is, noticed it too. “Perseus, are you melting?” Before he could even think to answer she was turning on you, a fire in her gaze. “Make him better.”

You would—gods, all of Olympus knew you would, if only you weren’t exhausted. You gaped like a fish, squeezing Jason’s hand. Perseus the Snowman shook his head. “No, there’s no need.”

He reached out a wooden arm and she gently wrapped her little fingers around the splintered edges of his crooked hand. “I don’t fear death.”

Estelle’s jaw hung slack for an everlasting moment. “Well, I do! Y/N, do it.”

Jason tensed and snapped, “Stelle, that’s not fair.”

She didn’t seem to care in the slightest.

“Estelle,” Perseus drew her attention back to him. “You’ll make more snowmen.”

She shook her head hopelessly, eyes going glassy. “No, I won’t. I won’t ever make another snowman.”

“How sad,” said Perseus. “Never?”

Estelle wiped her nose on her sleeve and looked at the ground. “Maybe, not never.”

The snowman started to smile again. His button eyes roamed over them all, stopping on the sky, and he sighed. “What a wonderful day to be alive.”

You turned your face so no one would see you crying. Jason's hold on your hand was the only thing sobering you up enough to remain on the picnic table, watching the sunset with your snowman.

The god Astraeus painted the sky with vibrant yellows, pinks, and oranges in a sunset to rival all others. It was too beautiful. Perseus kept his blank gaze settled on it alone, his hand still in Estelle’s. You and Jason sat rigid behind them as time ticked away.

The moon rose expectantly to take its place as the sun started to hide under the horizon. The yellows and pinks made way for the dark blue of night creeping in. Only then did Perseus shift his gaze back to Estelle. “I’m ready now.”

A crease grew in your brow when Estelle nodded, understanding what you did not, and she stood up on the table to reach over Perseus’ head. With shaky hands she reached for his hat, glancing down at him, worrying her lip between her teeth.

All Perseus did was smile. “Merry Christmas.”

The little girl took in a wavering breath. “Merry Christmas.” And she removed the hat, lifting it off his head, and in an instant all hints of emotion left the snowman. Nothing changed at all, but each of you could see it; those buttons held life behind them no longer.

You bit down hard on your lip. “How did you know that would work?”

She shrugged, setting the hat down on the snow. “I didn’t.”

The sound of footfalls on the snow had you turning around. Chiron approached, a sorry look in his eyes, and he stopped a few feet off. “Everyone has gathered around the tree.”

You took Estelle’s hand in yours, steeling yourself and offered her a smile that she slowly returned. Jason moved to walk at your side as you followed Chiron to the center of camp. The tree lit up most of camp, stretching high and out.

Campers were singing off key here and there. A pair of girls was caught under the mistletoe, one laughing awkwardly before the moon eyed one swooped in for a gentle peck on her lips. Gifts were being exchanged. Snow balls were thrown. A snowman was being built by some younger Hermes kids too.

“Hey!” Percy called out, cheeks flushed as he sipped on his apple cider. One arm was slung around his girlfriend who was talking in low voices with Thalia. The lot of your friends were gathered around one of the many little fires scattered around the lawn.

He offered you and Jason each a blue gingerbread man, grinning ear to ear. “Mom made ‘em.”

You looked around for Mrs. Blofis and found her at a nearby table, handing out marshmallows for roasting with Mr. Blofis at her side. Mr. Blofis wasn’t doing much handing out, instead in what seemed to be a deep conversation with Mr. D. The god of wine was gesturing wildly as he regaled some kind of story.

All was well. All was calm. You found it in yourself to actually smile.

Guilt wasn’t very far, wondering truly what you had been thinking bringing a snowman to life, when a particularly harsh bout of wind blew all your hair into your face. You sputtered through a giggle and swiped your hair to the side, your voice faltering when you caught sight of a man standing on the outskirts of the bonfires and chatter.

It couldn’t be. You stepped away from Jason and the rest, approaching the stranger. He stood tall, with a suit that glittered like snow. Two purple wings arched from his shoulder blades. What could your father want with you on Christmas?

“Hi,” you said, not sure where to start.

He stirred like he was uncomfortable. “Yes, hello, daughter.”

You had the heart to grin. “Merry Christmas.”

Boreas nearly scoffed before he corrected himself with a nod. “You as well.”

The silence to follow was tense. You motioned with your hand vaguely. “Is there a reason you’re here?”

You weren’t sure how to feel about meeting your father. You’d imagined this moment countless times, but it all led up to this anticlimactic reveal that was more amusing than aweing.

“There is,” he huffed. “I thought I would let you know your little magic act didn’t harm anything.”

“What do you mean?” you asked, heart dropping.

“I mean that the snowman is not dead,” Boreas informed you. “The snowman itself was never alive, I suppose. I’m impressed, I should say. You managed to catch a snow spirit and wrangle it into that snowman. Normally, snow spirits don’t get lives… You did a good thing, I suppose, giving that spirit one. He remembers it all. Perseus, as you called him, is living free and wild, as a snow spirit should be.”

You hadn’t realized your eyes were watering, relief coursing through you. “Oh, thanks gods. I’m not murderer.”

Boreas chuckled softly. “You’re not.” He averted his eyes, raising a hand and pausing, unsure, before he settled it on your shoulder and met your eyes. “I’m… proud of you. I don’t have many children. You’re certainly one I don’t regret.”

You blinked up at him, reaching to awkwardly pat his forearm. “Thanks, Dad.”

He nodded stiffly, backed away, and with a last Merry Christmas, he vanished in a flurry of snowflakes. One landed on your nose and gave you an ever rare shiver.

Jason’s arm wrapped around you, his warmth enveloping you like a nice blanket. “You good?”

Nodding, you leaned your head on his shoulder. “Very.”

Curfew was extended that night, much to the herpes disappointment. Treats and drinks were devoured by greedy children and finally, at the end of the night, Chiron gave the word and a stampede of kids ran to tear open the gifts they’d been eyeing for weeks.

After the younger kids had grabbed theirs and the crowd died down, your group moved in to find the gifts with your names on them. Your dad gifted you a snowglobe of camp. You shook it up with a smile, not noticing your sweating boyfriend approach you from behind.

“Y/N?” You turned, smile widening. Jason only got more nervous. “Uhm… I…”

You set the snowglobe back in its box on the ground and stepped closer to him, taking his hands in your freezing ones. “Yeah?”

“I love you,” he blurted. “So much.”

Your grin grew painful with how big it was. “And I love you.”

Jason blushed and took a deep breath. “You’ve been with me through… everything. When I wasn’t sure who I was, when Hera manipulated me and Piper, through the war.” He was out of breath, only one thought on his mind: no words would ever be enough. “I’m so in love with you. I can’t explain how much. Just when I think about it I can’t breathe.”

Your face had fallen into admiration. Jason’s thumb rubbed anxious lines on your knuckles. “I never want to spend a day without you. You deserve everything, I want to give it to you.”

“Jason…” Your voice was shaky, tapering off.

“Don’t worry,” he nearly whispered, moving to cup your cheek. “I’m not asking you to marry me. Not yet.” You giggled and he swore it was better than ambrosia. “I will though. I promise I will.”

You were too busy reaching to take his face in your hands to notice when he pulled something out of his pocket. You leaned forward to kiss the very life out of him, and he would very much have let you, but he drew you back with his hold on your jaw, chuckling when you frowned.

He held up a little velvet box between your bodies. Suddenly you weren’t so interested in kissing him, swiping the box from him with greedy hands and gleaming eyes. You popped the box open, admiring the pretty silver chain laid within. “Oh, it’s beautiful.”

“Here.” Jason turned you around and offered to clip it around your neck. He didn’t waste the opportunity, peppering kisses from the skin behind your ear down to your shoulder, relishing in the little quiver you gave in response. “Merry Christmas.”

Whirling back around, you jumped him, arms flinging around his neck as you crushed your lips to his. You pulled back for barely a second to mumble, “Merry Christmas” before your tongue pushed past his lips, your teeth catching his bottom lip.

“Woah! Woah! No PDA in my camp!” You groaned and ripped away from Jason, rolling your eyes as you cast Mr. D a glare over your shoulder.

Jason wasn’t so cocky anymore, red from neck to nose. “Sorry!”

“I don’t get paid enough…”

You and your boyfriend locked eyes, breaking down into a round of laughter as the grumpy god stomped away.

“Hey!” Piper jumped out of nowhere, Leo hot on her tail. Both were totally buzzed, and all you could do was laugh and wonder how on earth they’d snuck in alcohol. “Come sing carols, lovebirds!”

The pair of you followed the pair of them back to the little bonfire your friends had claimed. Fiddling with your necklace, you eyes scanned across them all to land on Jason, and a rush of adoration hit you like a freight train. You pecked his cheek and watched him stumble over a chuckle, returning a kiss to your hairline.

Then, as you leaned your head on his shoulder, a snowflake crossed your eye.

One by one, the sky became littered with flurries. Annabeth held up a hand as if to catch some. “Y/N, you’ve got to be tired by now. Take a rest.”

You shook you head slowly, confused. “This isn’t me.”

The winter wind kissed your cheek, and you were left at a loss. But Estelle—sweet Estelle, who sat between her brother and Annabeth—she knew. A little grin appeared on her face. “Goodbye, Perseus.”

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edenfenixblogs · 8 months

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Look what Google just recommended to me!!!!

I already own (and love) Shabbat and Portico.

But I am OBSESSED with the rest and must acquire them immediately.

Top of my list is Love Japan because LOOK AT THIS BEAUITFUL BOWL OF MATZO BALL RAMEN!!!!!

We hear a lot about Jewish people in Europe and MENA, but we do not hear a lot about Jewish culture as it blends with East Asian cultures, and that’s a shame. Not just because it erases the centuries of Jewish populations there, but also because there are plenty of people of mixed decent. People who may not have come directly from Jewish communities in East Asia, but people who have a Japanese Father and a Jewish Mother, for example. Or people in intercultural marriages. These are all real and valuable members of the Jewish community, and we should be celebrating them more. This cookbook focuses on Jewish Japanese American cuisine and I am delighted to learn more as soon as possible. The people who wrote this book run the restaurant Shalom Japan, which is the most adorable name I’ve ever heard. Everything about this book excites and delights me.

And of course, after that, I’m most interested in “Kugels and Collards” (as if you had any doubts about that after the #kugel discourse, if you were following me then).

This is actually written in conjunction with an organization of the same name devoted to preserving the food and culture of Jews in South Carolina!

I’m especially excited to read this one, because I have recently acquired the book Kosher Soul by the fantastic, inimitable Michael J. Twitty, which famously explores faith and food in African American Jewish culture. I’m excited to see how Jewish soul food and traditions in South Carolina specifically compare and contrast with Twitty’s writings.

I’m also excited for all the other books on this list!

A while ago, someone inboxed me privately to ask what I recommended for people to read in order to learn more about Jewish culture. I wrote out a long list of historical resources attempting to cover all the intricate details and historic pressure points that molded Jewish culture into what it is today. After a while I wrote back a second message that was much shorter. I said:

Actually, no. Scratch everything I just said. Read that other stuff if you want to know Jewish history.

But if you want to know Jewish culture? Cookbooks.

Read every Jewish cookbook you can find.

Even if you don’t cook, Jewish cookbooks contain our culture in a tangible form. They often explain not only the physical processes by which we make our meals, but also the culture and conditions that give rise to them. The food is often linked to specific times and places and events in diaspora. Or they explain the biblical root or the meaning behind the holidays associated with a given food.

I cannot speak for all Jews. No one can. But in my personal observation and experience—outside of actual religious tradition—food has often been the primary means of passing Jewish culture and history from generation to generation.

It is a way to commune with our ancestors. I made a recipe for chicken soup or stuffed cabbage and I know that my great grandmother and her own mother in their little Hungarian shtetl. I’ll never know the relatives of theirs who died in the Holocaust and I’ll never meet the cousins I should have had if they were allowed to live. But I can make the same food and know that their mother also made it for them. I have dishes I make that connect me to my lost ancestors in France and Mongolia and Russia and Latvia and Lithuania and, yes, Israel—where my relatives have lived continuously since the Roman occupation even after the expulsions. (They were Levites and Cohens and caretakers of synagogues and tradition and we have a pretty detailed family tree of their presence going back quite a long time. No idea how they managed to stay/hide for so long. That info is lost to history.)

I think there’s a strong tendency—aided by modern recipe bloggers—to view anything besides the actual recipe and procedures as fluff. There is an urge for many people to press “jump to recipe” and just start cooking. And I get that. We are all busy and when we want to make dinner we just want to make dinner.

But if your goal isn’t just to make dinner. If your goal is to actually develop an understanding of and empathy for Jewish people and our culture, then that’s my advice:

Read cookbooks.

#Judaism son #Jewish culture #Jewish cuisine #culinary tradition #culinary history #foodways #cultural preservation #tangible culture #jumblr #Judaism #food #cuisine #kugel discourse #Jewish joy #jewish positivity #Jews around the world #East Asian Jews

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catwyk · 2 months

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some more silt verses sketches ive made on holiday :] i will be home soon so expect plenty of digital art this week!!!

link to my other holiday sketches

(explanations + notes below the cut <EDIT nvm tumblr wont let me AGAIN KILL BITE KILL)

pic 1: VAL pouring an amphora of viscera. i drew this after a day of roman history museums lol

pic 2: faulkner's brother eddie as a child!!! the notes read: Eddie 12? // sparse freckles // 4c curls (prefers to keep it short) // brown eyes // jaw sharpens w/ age

pic 3: faulkner's brother charlie as a child!!! the notes read: left part, looser curl pattern (frizz) // most baby fat, dimples still apparent :)

pic 4: brother faulkner carrying sidter thurrocks out of the snuff cult's holding cells. the pen/paper combo ive been using this week has been a little unpredictable in terms of ink yield, so thurrocks' eyes ended up much darker than intended which forced me to go very hard on the lighting for balance. thurrocks' clothing looks a little strange since i hadnt decided exactly how she would be dressed and got carried away shading her body

pic 5: a very very messy, gestural wip of faulkner murdering thurrocks. i actually did this in the car today!! it was difficult to get the details down while moving but it definitely helped me loosen my lines and lighten my strokes for better posing and energy. unfortunately since im limited to black and white the blood on thurrocks' face blends with the shading of her cheeks :( oh well !! artists must suffer

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aropride · 10 months

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remember being thirteen and downloading halsey's badlands to your old iphone 4 and painstakingly changing the song titles and hiding your earbuds in your hoodie so your parents wouldnt see them and ask what you're listening to. and you poke at your dinner before going back to your room to wait out your parents and you draw and you write bad fanfiction in your email drafts folder because you know your parents would never fucking check there. and when your dad finally goes to bed you sneak downstairs (backwards, so if your parents wake up you can claim you're coming back from the bathroom) and through the kitchen and you lean against the door while you turn the handle because it stops it from creaking. and once you're sure the door is shut you pace back and forth in your driveway in the dead of night and you listen to roman holiday as loud as your shitty earbuds will let you. and you read a tumblr post a couple months ago that said that using drugs doesnt make you a bad person so you think to yourself if you ever smoke weed someday you'd like to listen to this song while high. you listen to control (i paced around for hours on empty, i jumped at the slightest of sounds) and you think about how someday you'll be out of here (im bigger than this body im colder than this home) and you keep glancing back to check the shifting light is just your own shadow and not your parents at the door. you go back inside because you can't enjoy the music anymore and you sneak a single hershey kiss out of the pantry and you run back upstairs. in the morning you'll wake up at 1pm and your mother won't ask why you slept so late but if she did you'd tell her you woke up and couldn't get back to sleep. as if you didn't stay up til 6am and then take a handful of melatonin. do you guys remember that. i remember that

#text

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thegreatwicked · 8 months

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FicRecs

Enjoy some of my favorite stories I've come across on Tumblr! Seriously, I LOVE these stories and I reread them A LOT!

Please note: Virtually ALL OF THESE STORIES ARE SMUT. That means 18+ content, and you are responsible for managing your internet consumption. Minors DNI.

FicRecs

DC Comics

Dance for Daddy by @matth1w LAWD. I love me some Roman Sionis fics and this one DELIVERS. Sexy, kinky, smutty I give it a solid Chefs Kiss.

Joy Ride and Let Me Make You Feel Good, The Intern by @littleredwing89 More delicious Roman Sionis one shots Joy ride is about teasing Roman as he drives and Let Me Make You Feel Good is about a sweet smutty cure for a hangover. And the Intern, a fuck buddies to lovers story, god yum. Reader inserts. Drool. Go forth read and enjoy.

Bait the Beast by @more-cardigan-than-womanLord help me, I found a new little gem. You cause a bit of a ruckus with Coblepot and Roman thinks you need a lesson.

Yours by @tarrenterror25set in the AO! Verse Roman is having some trouble during the holidays overcoming everything the Joker did to him, good thing he has you. Because he does. You're his now. Melt. Sorry about the mess.

Star Wars

Water and Rock by @split-spectrum I honestly cannot say enough good things about this story It follows Obi-wan/Fem Reader in the classic Master/Padawan troupe and it. is. SPICY. Up to twelve chapters which I have read MULTIPLE TIMES and it hits so hard. Go read this story it is sexy as HELL and gives you the feels. She's so damn good at writing Obi-Wan it hurts, but like in a kinky good way.

The Gift by @ladyinwriting18 I have already spoke at length about the fabulousness that is Lady in Writing and her amazing content. This one is a favorite! Its a Maul/Reader Insert and it is smutty sxy and kinky. Seriously if Maul is your fictional crush (Hi me too!), go read this.

The Three Princes Part One: The Oldest Profession by @thenightmarketofdathomir This writer is freaking legendary. I do not know the collection of words in my own language to describe the eloquence and sophistication this writer possesses. Just go. Go read this and you let me know if you're ever the same again. This gem stars our boy Feral and is a you/reader insert. Oh damn, this story makes me want things...

Birthday Wish, Romancing the Pages, The Write Seduction, To Create Life, by @jedianjakenobi Y'all, this author holds a special place in my writer's heart. She's a published author on Amazon and she's truly amazing. Her works are all Obi-Wan-centered and reader inserts. Birthday Wish is a birthday crush from your sexy neighbor, Romancing the Pages is a fake relationship/summer romance with a reclusive shy librarian (Ben) and a best-selling author, The Write Seduction is a professor Kenobi/writing student story and it is SPICY. And my favorite To Create Life is a Jedi Council green lights a baby-making program and who else is the reader paired with? Their good friend Padawan Kenobi. My darlings, my friends, if you like Obi-Wan smut then you are doing yourselves a disservice by NOT reading these.

Empty Me Out by @221bshrlocked reader insert/DOM Obi-Wan I'm tellin y'all this story NEARLY killed me. I've lost track of how many times I've readit. You're an entertainer and Master Kenobi needs information from you, so you give him what he wants and then he gives you what you want. Where it Wasn't massage therapy reader insert/Obi-Wan, do I need to say more? Pretty sure I melted into the floor with this one.

His Loving Satine by @waterlily707 I love reader insterT and OCs but these two Obi-Wan and Satine are a joy to read. Temporary paralyzed Obi-Wan at the "mercy" of a slightly dom Satine. Juicy, gorgeous, little bit of fluff. Love it.

Room 24 by @murdockussy Little angsty Obi-Wan/reader insert enemies to lovers in an undercover assignment-type situation. Spicy, dom Obi-Wan give. Me. More.

Tea with Lemon, Tea with Honey by @wickedscribbles an established relationship as a reader insert and Obi-Wan. If you want honey then you get to take care of a sick Obi-Wan and kind out you have a new kink, if you want Lemon then Obi-Wan takes advantage of said kink and whisks you away to another planet for some R&R under the guise of "work." Enjoy!

Actors/Characters

Ben Hardy

Hold Me Close, Don't Let Me Go by @stray-kaz God. This one shot is just sxy as hell, it's a Billy/Four fro, 6 Underground/Female Reader. Our boy comes home to one hell of an 'I missed you, I need you right now' welcome. GO read it. Right now.

Such an Experience by @rogermyreligionOk. Guys... FUCK, this is a hot little oneshot Roger Taylor of Queen/Female reader and OMG. Just go read it. I've officially stopped counting how many times I've read this. Smutty/Sexy. I'm dead.

Long Distance by @acciotwinzwinz. Y'ALL. Sit your asses down and read this Roger Taylor/Reader insert/You. It's fluffy, its sexy, its cute and the smut is -chefs kiss- Yes, I read this one a lot too.

For now, these are some of my favorites that I frequently reread because I love them. I'll probably be adding more, it's more than likely I've forgotten some...

#fic rec #ben hardy characters #star wars #dc comics #jason todd #roman sionis #all smut all the way #billy/four x reader #roger taylor #obi wan x reader #obi-wan smut #roman sionis smut #jason todd smut #darth maul x you #darth maul smut #Support writers content #My favorite fanfics

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omegastation · 2 months

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I like that the way we view storylines and characters change as we grow and experience new things in life. A good example is Samara explaining why someone might join the Justicars, even if it looks like a miserable time : "Sometimes the most brutal path is the only honest one." When I was first playing the game, I understood the words but I didn't fully get the meaning. Now I do get it. I know exactly what she means.

But it doesn't have to be a big thing. It can be about hobbies. Years ago, I didn't care that much that Turians were inspired by Romans and the Roman empire. Now I'm in a rabbit hole of Roman Empire books because I read Mary Beard's Emperor of Rome on holidays so I care now and want to compare. Obviously, it doesn't mean I understand things better (reading books is not going to make me a specialist for sure…), I'm talking about level of interest. I get excited and want to find tiny bits of information that might be useful to my understanding of the turians.

What else? Languages and in general words people use interest me a lot more than they used to. So I desperately want an expert to analyze the hell out of the common language/writing we see everywhere in the games. And I try to pay more attention to the words Legion uses, because that right there is a fascinating case to analyze.

Characters in power also mean different things to me now. When I first played, Hackett was that kind of old man you reported to. Now I'm fascinated by him and always happy when he is on screen. He's honestly like the rock star of my playthrough, I'm not even kidding. Even someone like Primarch Victus. Of course I sympathized with him before, but I'm more interested in his storyline now because my current reading list has a lot to do with resistance fighters or people who have to become leaders during difficult times.

And by the way, I like that how we change goes for how we view fandom too. I was always so sensitive, so prone to get upset, so ready to make a post about this or that. And yesterday I saw a post with character hate and I immediately blocked the user and just kept on checking the tag. Later I was like "Oh wait. It could have been as simple as that the entire time?". You grow older and you just want to protect your peace.

Anyway if you have a different view of storylines/characters/fandom as you change and grow or get new hobbies, I would love to read about it. It's nothing new or special, but it is a cool thing that our perspective can evolve.

#i don't know how to tag this

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chanaleah · 3 months

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an personal narrative speech on israel i wrote for school

note that this was written for an audience who mostly doesn't know anything about Israel.

essay below if the images are not working for you/you have a screen reader

I was at Hebrew School, my legs against the cold plastic chair of the over-air conditioned synagogue basement, and I was bored. My eyes fell over the posters on the wall — the Rambam’s ladder of Tzedakah, common Hebrew words, and a large map, almost my size, of Israel.

I had looked at this map so many times, so many days. But I had never really looked at it. My eyes traced the coastline … Ashkelon, Ashdod, Tel Aviv, Haifa, Akko. In the center, Jerusalem. At the bottom, Eilat. And at the very top, the little tip wedged between Lebanon and the Golan, Kiryat Shmona.

Israel is a small country, about the size of New Jersey, located in the Middle East. It borders the Mediterranean Sea and is home to almost 10 million people. It is the only country with a Jewish majority, but it also has large Arab and Druze minorities. Many holy sites for the main three Abrahamic religions — Judaism, Christianity, and Islam — are located in Israel.

As a kid growing up in the Jewish community, Israel was a common topic of conversation. We had Israelis come and visit us, a lot of us had family there, and most people we knew had visited Israel. We learned the Hebrew words for things like ice cream (glidah) and dog (kelev). We used the Hebrew pronunciation of words like hummus (huh-miss), which we said houmous (choo-moose).

We celebrated the new year of the trees in January (which doesn’t really make any sense in [redacted]) and we prayed for rain during services.

Really, whether or not we said it, we knew, we could feel, that everything we did… our prayers, our traditions, all traced back to Israel.

But here’s the weird thing… I’ve never been to Israel. I’ve never even really been close to Israel. I’ve never swum at the beach in Tel Aviv, never walked the cobblestone streets of Jerusalem, never felt the heat bearing down on me as I climbed Masada. I’ve never placed a folded up prayer in the Western Wall, never smelled the aromas of spices and herbs at a shuk, never read the ancient names on the graves at the Mount of Olives. And even though I’ve never stood on the grounds my ancestors stood on, put my hands where they did, and breathed the air they breathed, I can still feel these places. They’re in my DNA… literally.

The traditions of the Jewish community connect me to my roots. When the kingdom of Judah, where Jews are from, located in modern day Israel, was taken over by the Romans, the Jews were forced out of our homeland, and we became dispersed throughout the word. As Rudy Rochman, an Israeli activist, says, Judaism “is a portable suitcase of a native people's identity that was created to preserve who they were after their forceful displacement from… Israel.” Every Jew throughout the world, no matter where we are; in the United States, Israel, or France, continues to carry this suitcase that connects us back to where we came from.

Today, when I celebrate Jewish holidays, I know there are people halfway around the world doing the same things I’m doing. They sing the same prayers, eat the same foods, and participate in the same traditions. They are all drawing from a suitcase that looks a lot like mine.

Today, about half of the world’s Jews live in the United States, and about half live in Israel. My traditions and culture connect me to all Jews, but my traditions also tie me to that land. I know that if I wanted to, or if I needed to, I could move to Israel. I could become a part of that country — the country I already love so much.

But today, there are a lot of challenges with loving Israel — at least in the sense of the modern nation state. Currently, Israel is locked in a conflict with Palestine — a conflict you’ve probably heard about in the news — that has been going on for over a century. Today, neither Israel nor Palestine are completely innocent or guilty in this conflict. Israel, as much as I love it and feel connected to it, has done a lot of things I disagree with. And it’s hard for me to love Israel when I constantly see things in the news that make me facepalm, and when I know that the Israeli government is doing things I don’t agree with.

I love Israel. But love is complicated. It’s not black and white. I love Israel as my homeland, the place that birthed my people. And that love is paradoxical. I accept it as it is now, and I want it to get better.

But now that I think about it, I realize that love means caring enough for something that you’re willing to work for it. Love means believing that peace, and a better future, is possible. Love means that a better way will be found. Because you don’t just walk away from something you love when it doesn’t meet your expectations.

So someday, I will go to Israel, and when I swim at the beach in Tel Aviv, walk the cobblestone streets of Jerusalem, and feel the heat bearing down on me as I climb Masada — I’m not going to be thinking about news headlines or military operations. I’m not going to be thinking about disappointment and failures. I’m going to be thinking about the three thousand years of history and tradition that led me back to the land of my ancestors.

#jumblr #jewish #chana talks #judaism #israel #am yisrael chai #i stand with israel #antisemitism #essay #personal essay #personal narrative #jewish identity

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obexes · 1 year

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CATALYSIS

R.C x READER • R.G x Reader

A/N- This was 100% self indulgent, Most of this isn't Canon, and in this "AU" Roman Godfrey is Rafe Cameron's younger cousin. Anyway If you read this I hope you like it, any feed back is appreciated! Also this is gonna be a 5 part series!

Warnings - Swearing, Underage Drinking, Sexual Themes

Summary- When Roman refuses to acknowledge readers blooming feelings for him & the moments they shared, his cousin Rafe is there to remind her that she deserves better.

Word Count- 5.5k

You're chilling on your couch, trying desperately to ignore your phone buzzing and focus on the movie you're watching. Granted it's a friday night and around 7 pm, so you couldn't really blame your cousin Kie for blowing up your phone. Giving in, you pluck it off of the coffee table.

Kiara: bitch, kelce is throwing a party

Kiara: me & nicky are coming to get you

Kiara: 15 min ;) get ur ass up!

You'd already ignored her previous texts asking what you were up to, choosing to sulk in the solitude of your family's villa. Your parents had taken another trip to Mexico and had taken your 10 and 6 year old siblings, leaving you and your brother Dominique (or Nicky, as you all affectionately called him) under the care of a couple of your fathers security guards and your housekeeper, Giselle.

Nicky and Kie had been trying to get you to a party since summer started a few weeks ago. Normally you'd tag along but ever since Kie and Sarah stopped being friends a couple months before summer started, it kind of ruined the dynamic of a once close and spirited group of friends.

You blow a breath of air out through your nose, throw the light blanket off of your lap and make your way into the hallway. Giselle smiles at you as you pass the kitchen and you smile back with a small wave. Upstairs in your room, you pause to give yourself a twice over in your vanity's mirror. You were blessed in that you got your moms naturally curly hair and your dads bright eyes and smooth tanned skin. Deciding that makeup was not a necessity at the moment, you open up your closet doors and step inside.

Being a kook came with its perks, you had to admit your closet was to die for and was one of the only reasons you truly enjoyed your parents' lifestyles. You sift and end up deciding on a white skims bodysuit, and dark jean shorts. You change as quickly as you can and grab a pair of white boots to slip on.

No sooner than you've slipped on the last shoe, do you hear the obnoxious custom horn of your brother's Chevy. You practically sprint back to your vanity and grab your purse, carelessly throwing a lip gloss, your phone and other random shit inside before running down the stairs.

"Bye Giselle, I'll be home later!", and with that you're on your way out of the door, selectively ignoring her calls for you to not be home too late. On the porch, one of your fathers men greets you from where he stands guard. They try to be subtle but your parents are a bit ostentatious about their business in Mexico. All of the security and the watchful eyes makes it difficult to be a normal teenager sometimes.

Your brother and Kie are parked in the centre of the long circular driveway, and you hop in. "Hey guys.”, throwing your bag down next to you and buckling your seatbelt.

"Y/N! Hey!" Kie beams at you, "I feel like it's been forever since you've gone out with us.”

Nicky scoffs and puts the car in drive, peeling out of the driveway. "That's because it has been since you and Sarah got into your stupid fight. We haven't been to a party together since summer started.”

You laugh along quietly, agreeing that the fight currently going on between the two girls is pretty stupid. It's always been your family, with the extension of Kiara, and the Camerons, with the extension of Sarah's cousin, Roman. Rafe and Nicky were both 17, while you, Kie, Sarah, and Roman were all either 16 or going to be this year. Your families vacationed together for years, every holiday is celebrated in one of your families expensive backyards, Ward and your father even conduct business together. So it's safe to say, nobody expected Kie and Sarah's little fight to go on this long.

"Shut up. Don't even get me started. Sarah is a fucking bitch." Kiara huffs and puts her feet up on the dash, while pulling a bottle of Titos from under her seat, "Kook party, take a shot Y/N."

Taking the bottle from her extended hand you gulp a good amount before sputtering a little and handing it back.”Fuckin vodka,” You choke out in between small coughs.

You would never admit it but you were a little nervous about going to Kelce's house after skipping out on parties for so long and it wasn't because of Kie and Sarahs drama. You were avoiding a certain kook prince, but you were nervous about him catching on, and admittedly you missed him, so when Kie invited you you thought fuck it. What's the worst that could happen?

You guys sang along to Rihanna and talked shit about some of your classmates on the 10 or so minute drive. Pulling onto the designated street, there were cars everywhere and music could be heard playing loudly from Kelce's backyard. Kie looks at you and Nicky out of the corner of her eye, "I may or may not have invited the pogues..."

"Kie!" you both yell at the same time. Nicky huffs in his seat as he pulls into an open spot by the treeline, "Nothing could go wrong at all, great idea." he says sarcastically.

"What? They're my friends, I thought it could be fun."

You and your older brother were friendly with Kie’s friends, but you knew that JJ had a penchant for fighting. And with Rafe and his friends being the way that they are, it doesn't always go well when they party together.

"Fuck it, we're already here. Can we just have fun? Please." The last thing you want is more drama, your first night back out. She smiles at you and you guys hop out and make your way onto the lawn. You link your arm with Kiaras and walk into the crowded party with Nicky trailing behind you. Kie drags you towards the kitchen as you pass classmates, tourons, and pogues. Nobody cares about all the classist shit when they're drunk apparently. It was always fucking stupid to you, anyways.

When the two of you make it to the large kitchen, you find Rafe, Topper, Kelce, Roman, Barry and his brother Peter. as well as a multitude of cocaine, girls, and random kids playing bartender to their friends.

You watch as Rafe gives one of the girls you recognize as a soon-to-be junior a bump and you watch as his eyes scan the growing presence in the room, noticing you. "Ayo! Y/N, Kie! Whaddup?"

Kie simply gives him a sarcastic smile and walks over to one of the kids in her volunteer group, who's currently making some legitimate looking drinks. You raise an eyebrow making a mental note to ask him to make you one. "Hey guys, what's up?". You warily eye the drugs carelessly spread out on the counter as you approach the guys. Roman looks up from his phone and catches your eye, you give a shy smile as he rushes you.

"Where the fuck have you been, Y/N/N? You abandoned me." He clutches his chest playfully before lifting you to sit on the counter and smirking down at you. You and Roman have always had a great relationship, albeit a bit closer than most normal friends, but he's someone you would consider a best friend. As of a few weeks ago he was your first kiss, although he was unaware of that detail, after a very emotional night of talking shit about your parents while drinking their wine on their yacht. When Rafe and Nicky nearly caught you both making out, Roman acted like nothing happened. So you did too.

"I've been around, Godfrey."

He smiles and pecks your forehead before turning around to go get you a drink. "Well," He drags out the word, "we have some catching up to do, kid."

Kelce gives you a fist bump on the way out of the kitchen and Topper just gives you a head nod. "Where's Nicky?"

You look towards the doorway you entered from and shrug, "He was right behind us, he probably met a girl or something." Topper hums in response.

Barry whistles, “That's what I need to be doin, really.” Peter nods along. “Whatchu doin’ later, Y/N/N?”

You start to laugh just as Rafe loudly and distastefully snorts a line and groans. You wrinkle your nose as he tips his head back, relishing in his high. "Jesus Christ, Rafe”.

"You want some, Pretty Girl?"

You’re staring at him like he grew another head when Roman places a red solo cup in your hand. Kie, with her own drink in hand hops up on the counter next to you, "If you ever give my cousin that shit, i'll fucking hurt you."

"Y/N's a good girl, she wouldn't do that. Wouldn't wanna disappoint daddy dearest." Topper teases and Rafe barks out a laugh. There's a familiar pang in your chest at the mention of your father and you roll your eyes. This doesn't go unnoticed by Roman. "Leave her alone, man.” then his hands are on your knees, "Wanna go kick ass in some pong?". He looks at you and you nod, downing the drink you'd been sipping slowly, " I'm down, but first let's do some shots."

Two and a half hours later, with three successful games of beer pong under your belt and feeling quite significantly drunk, you make your way back inside to pee. Navigating your way through the crowded house and up the stairs you enter the bathroom and lock the door.

While you pee, you drunkenly think about how crazy it is that everyone was getting along tonight. Seeing Rafe and JJ on the same pong team threw you for a fucking loop, even if they were both extremely wasted. You also kind of wish you had a blunt or something.

After you wash your hands, check yourself out in the mirror and fluff your hair a bit, you stumble towards the door and into the hallway. None other than Roman is standing at the door to your left making out with a pretty blonde, fumbling with the doorknob of the door he has her pressed against. Furrowing your eyebrows and quickly making your way past them, you try to ignore the hurt bubbling in your chest. "I think that one's locked, genius." You say of Kelce's grandmother's room, that he usually always locks when there's guests over. You don't bother looking back at them.

Deciding you need fresh air, you find yourself out on the front porch which is a lot less packed than the backyard. You sit on the steps and watch a group of freshman boys prepare to light a huge firework on the lawn. The warm summer breeze felt nice, despite how dark it had gotten. You pull your phone out of your bag and look at the time. 11:37 PM. You look up when you hear a sizzling type of noise to see the firework, sitting up and it's been lit. The boys are backing up and smacking each other on the arms as they hype themselves up for the explosion. It makes you smile but at the last second it tips over and your smile drops. The firework shoots and explodes directly at Rafe Camerons truck, shattering the front passenger window and from what you can see the side mirror all over the seat and the ground.

They're fucked, and its time to go. There's no way you're dealing with Rafe potentially blaming you for not watching his car. You stand up and grimace as they start freaking out, and people are already making their way outside to see what happened. You walk back up the steps and call your brother from the porch to let him know you're ready to go but there's no answer. You're about to call him again when someone taps your shoulder.

"Hey Y/N.." You whip around and see Sarah standing in the doorway with a bottle of tequila. She holds it up so you put your phone away and grab it.

"Hey, Sar. Having fun?" You take a couple huge gulps and regret it almost instantly, when it burns the ever loving fuck out of your throat.

"It'd be more fun if everyone wasn't pissed at me." She smiles sadly. She knows she messed up by not inviting Kie to her birthday party. "I know I’m kind of a mess lately."

You both laugh. "Well for what it's worth, I'm not mad at you. I do think you and Kiara should talk though."

"That'd be easier to do if she didn't glare at me everytime we make eye contact but I deserve it, so I'm gonna try anyway. I really miss you guys." She says the last part so quietly while averting her gaze to the floor. You can't help pulling her into a soft hug. “I miss you too, Sar. Kie’s stubborn ass probably does too.”

You recap the bottle and hand it to her, trying to empathise. Kiara was your family, and you guys were close, but you all grew up together and you were close with Sarah too. It was such a stupid fight but the underlying issue was serious to both of them. You give her a small smile.

"So are you leaving soon or something?"

"That was the plan but Dominique did not answer his phone and I don't feel like looking for him."

She nods her head and behind her you see Roman walking down the stairs without his blonde friend, and you drunkenly attempt to duck out of sight of the doorway. You don't feel like seeing him again right now. This little crush you'd been secretly harbouring was not something the group needed, on top of the drama with the girls right now. "Well, if you wanna take my car, you can. I'm probably gonna have to force Rafe to take me home." Sarah continues, oblivious to your train of thought.

Roman appears behind her, having seen you try to hide behind the wall to the side of Sarah. "Y/N cant drive, she doesn't have a licence. And shes fucked up. I'll take her."

You internally cringe at your transparency, "It's fine, really Rome. I can go find Nicky or Kie or someone, seriously." Your words are slightly slurred and you can see that fact register in his eyes.

"Nope," He pops his P and puts an arm around your shoulder to guide you towards the steps. “C'mon, kid."

"Bye guys, Roman be careful!" Sarah calls before dipping back inside, you look back at her helplessly. Fuck. Of course this would happen. Roman's hand grazes your elbow as he guides you down the steps But stops in his tracks when he notices the group gathered around Rafe's truck.

"Hold on love, sit down here." You let him help you sit and stare up at the sky. Roman pulls out his phone and calls Rafe while he berates the group of boys. When Rafe barrels outside with bloodlust very apparent in his energy, you're reminded of just why you didn't want to be here when he saw his truck.

He's screaming at the poor kids and threatening to beat two of the taller kids' asses, by the time Roman comes back for you. He walks with you down the driveway to his black SUV and opens the door for you. Once you take a seat he's manoeuvring the seatbelt over you and clicking it in. "I'm not that drunk Rome, I can buckle myself in." But you let him.

He walks around the car and hops in, pushing the start engine button. "My uncles gonna be so fucking mad." He chuckles.

"It was an accident, I saw it tilt over. I wonder where they even found a firework that big?" you mumble, watching Rafe run his hands over his reddened face in frustration through the window as Roman pulls out of the driveway.

"Idiots."

You push the bluetooth button on his stereo system and connect your phone, looking for something to fill the silence. You settle on Weightless by Chiiild and roll your window down, enjoying the breeze and singing along.

Nights like this you come home with a heavy heart for me

Nights like this an endless kiss is all you really need

Roman glances at you quickly and he sighs almost indecipherably. "Y/N, what's up?"

You hum and look over at him, admiring the wispy strands of hair that fall over his forehead slightly and the perpetual pout on his face. "Nothing, I'm fine. Kinda want a slushie."

He fights his smile as he peeks at you again, "We can get you one but that's not what I'm talking about. You've been like... sad or something lately. Kinda distant."

That's what happens when you like someone who will never like you back, you think to yourself as you avert your gaze to your hands. The agitation you felt seeing him with someone else is slowly creeping back up on you. Usually it was fleeting, you knew that Roman would mess with girls at parties but it never went beyond the night. You found a strange comfort in the fact that he’d been and probably would be one of your closest friends forever. You’d never lose him that way.

You wrack your brain for something to say, "It's just... my parents being gone again, sucks. I'm not sad. I'm just here." Is what you settle on. It's not a total lie.

A frown forms between his eyebrows and he takes his right hand off the wheel to place it on your knee, catching you off guard. You can tell he doesn't completely believe you but his touch erupts a swarm of butterflies in your belly and you draw your knees closer together instinctually. He slows the car to a near stop and pulls into a gas station that's thankfully, still open.

Parking right at the front of the building, he takes his seat belt off and turns his head to look at you. "You know you can tell me anything right?" He gives your knee a small squeeze.

"I know Rome. Doesn't mean I will though." You smirk at him a little and without thinking you reach up and push his hair back so it's off of his forehead. He catches your wrist gently before you can retreat your hand and brings it up to his mouth where he presses a kiss to your palm.

"You comin?" He asks, you pout and shake your head. "What flavour do you want, mm?"

"Green apple, please."

He gives you a little mock salute and gets out of the car, heading inside.

In the quiet of the car you get a little lost in thought. How are you supposed to keep up this little unspoken secret with Roman, when he knows you so well? He knows you too well to believe your bullshit when you claim you're fine. And lately that's been a lot. When you guys kissed, you assumed it was fueled by teenage hormones, too much to drink, and overall poor decision making. But now it seems more like he just felt bad for you while, for you, it was a genuine first experience. It's not everyday you admit that your picture perfect life isn't so picture perfect.

You'd been home alone, yet again, sitting on one of the small couches on your fathers yacht when he showed up, pissed at his mom. You two ended up criss-cross applesauce across from each other, passing a bottle of wine back and forth, just absolutely bitching about your parents. He told you how his mom was a psychotic alcoholic, obsessed with having control (which you sort of already knew) and you'd told him how your parents were hardly ever home lately, leaving you and Nicky to your own devices. You missed your parents constantly and you felt abandoned. It hurt, and he understood you.

Tears were pooling in your eyes by the time you finished venting when Roman gently cupped your face in his hand. "Hey, don't cry, Y/N. They may not be here right now but I am, I'll always be here. I promise you. Okay?" He stroked your cheek with his thumb as you stared back into his hazy green eyes, your breath catching in your throat. Roman was always sweet to you, but never in such an intimate way. You glanced down at his lips, which he noticed. He never planned on kissing you, yet he couldn't help himself as he leaned in and delicately pressed his lips to yours, testing the waters. The kiss left you breathless and when you pulled apart he pressed his forehead against yours. "Was that... okay?"

You nodded wordlessly, a little bit in shock. Part of you was screaming that you were crossing a line, and part of you was mesmerised by the feeling of someone else's lips on yours for the first time. Roman sighed in relief and kissed you again, harder this time, more fervent. He unknowingly taught you how to make out. You'd tried something with your tongue and he'd made a noise in the back of his throat that was so enthralling you'd do anything to hear it again. Too, soon you heard the telltale engine of Rafe's truck and you broke apart, albeit awkwardly. He never brought it up, so you never brought it up.

The sound of the car door opening interrupts your thoughts, you didn't even see Roman exit the store, too lost in thought. He holds out a cup full of frozen green ice and you take it with a smile. "For the princess."

"Thanks Ro."

He sets a bag of swishers on the floor by your feet as you remove the lid on your drink and use the bottom of your straw to scoop the slushie up and into your mouth. He puts the car in reverse and backs up.

Continuing the short drive to your house, you sing along to whatever song shuffle picked.

When he pulls into your yard and shuts off the car, he turns to you. "Hey, is it cool if I stay over? My moms being a bitch right now."

"You know you can, I don't know why you're asking." You speak through a mouth full of slush while simultaneously unbuckling your seat belt. He mutters something about manners and snatches the bag off of the floor.

You walk up to the porch and Alex, another one of your dads goons, gives you a look as he unlocks the door for you. "What?" You ask when you get to the last step.

"Nothing..." He avoids looking directly at you or Roman. "... just feel like your dad wouldn't appreciate me letting a boy in this late."

"Well good thing hes never fucking here, huh?" you huff as you brush past him to go inside. Roman follows you silently. You turn the entryway light on, just as Alex shuts the door behind you and Roman. "Who the fuck does that guy think he is?"

You glance at Roman as you head to the kitchen, "He's such a dick rider, but he won't actually say anything to my dad."

"But he's just, like security right? Why does he care."

You shrug as you approach the kitchen doorway. Just then the bedroom door next to you opens, and Giselle peeks her head out, eyes wide and red. "Y/N!" and then she sees Roman behind you and squeals. "Roman!! How was the party you guys?"

Roman shoots her a dazzling smile and goes to hug her. "Hey Giz." She slaps his arm. "Stop calling me that, you jerk. Its disgusting."

"The party was fine." you scrunch your nose a bit, "Giselle are you high, right now?"

Romans head whips up, "Holy shit. You look blasted!" He laughs. She has a bashful look on her face as she backs up into her bedroom. "Shut up, both of you. Bring me some water please, thanks." She shuts the door before either of you can say anything. You both giggle at her behaviour and stumble into the kitchen where Roman puts the rest of your slushee in the refrigerator. You get three glasses out of the cupboard and fill them with water from the fridge, Roman delivers Giselle her glass before coming to stand across from you against the counter. He downs his glass in one go and watches you sip yours.

"That's so hot, you really take your time with it, huh?" He teases.

You laugh quietly against your glass. "Wanna watch a movie?"

"Only if you let me pick. I'm not watching Clueless again." He deadpans. "Fine."

He gives you a smug look and you take his glass and place them both in the sink. He grabs you by the hip in one hand and a tupperware full of cookies that Giselle must have made in the other and pushes you towards the stairs.

When you get to your room you immediately go for an oversized shirt and sleep shorts. "Do you want me to get you some of Nicky's shorts?" He knows you hate outside clothes on your bed.

"Nah, s'cool." He pulls his shirt over head and winks at you, sending a flush of heat up your neck to your cheeks. You've seen him shirtless countless times, but only recently have you begun wondering what his abs would feel like against your skin. His hands go for his belt and you turn towards your ensuite bathroom muttering about how extra he is. After you change, you brush your teeth and wash your face, thinking about what you and Roman could do tomorrow.

When you open the door, you smell two things - weed and sugar cookies. Roman is standing in just his boxers, in front of your television looking for a film to watch, eating a cookie with a blunt tucked behind his ear. You can't help the small laugh that escapes you, your heart swells at the sight of the boy you adore.

He turns when he hears you. "I rolled a blunt, and we're watching Barbarian." He says, finishing his cookie.

You smooth down your hair and sit on your bed. "This is why you're my favourite. Wanna open the door?" Gesturing towards the balcony doors. He does so and lights the tip of the blunt using the flame of a candle that's sitting by the window. He places an ashtray on the bedside table and sits next to you on the bed so you're shoulder to shoulder. You play the movie and take the blunt when he offers it.

You pass it back and forth and when you refuse it after your third hit, he puts it out and wraps his arms around you leaning back so you're both laying propped up against all of your pillows.

"So what the fuck, shes just gonna sleep in the house with this creepy ass dude?"

"I would too, he's hot."

"Seriously?"

You tilt your head slightly, "Wait, no, you guys could actually be twins." You look between the character on screen and Roman. "That's so weird! He's like an older version of you."

He raises an eyebrow with a shit eating grin. "So youre saying I'm hot?"

"This is why I don't compliment you anymore."

The movie slowly got eerier until it was straight up terrifying. You hid your face in Romans chest, multiple times, and at some point began drifting off into a dreamless sleep. Roman glances at you as your breathing evens out, smiling to himself at the sight of you falling asleep against him. He turned your tv off and buried his face in your hair, sighing contentedly as he got comfortable and allowed himself to sleep. Feeling safe.

You went to sleep peacefully, comfortably but your morning has been anything but.

Your parents got home a day earlier than expected, arriving at about 7 am. Your mom decided to come wake you, as they stopped and brought breakfast, but she was not expecting to find you tangled up in bed with your basically naked best friend. She proceeded to freak out, waking up Giselle and Nicky in the process.

There's so many reasons why this is a nightmare. For starters, your father has barred you from boys. He would prevent you from dating forever if he could. He's very adamant about his only daughter remaining virtuous and focusing on getting into Columbia rather than boys. And to make matters worse he actually likes Roman. Not to mention your mom has been friends with Romans mom since their sorority days, and lastly your parents didn't know that you smoke weed...until today.

That brings you to the family room where you've been arguing with your mom for 30 minutes, while your dad sits in an armchair subtly giving Roman dirty looks and occasionally pinching the bridge of his nose. And Roman, well, Roman is sitting on the couch with a hand in his hair staring dejectedly at the ground, genuinely upset that he was the cause of your family drama today.

“Mom! I said It wasn't like that. Roman drove me home. We were watching a movie and fell asleep.”

“Y/N, this isn't just about the fact that I found Roman in there. This is about rules being broken and secrets being kept!” Your mother bites back.

Your dad stands up from his chair and crosses his arms, "And since when the fuck do either of you smoke weed? And in the house, Y/N, you smoked it in your room." He runs a hand over his face, " I don't understand why you would do this."

“That was actually me. I- uh. I mean it was mine.” Your parents gape at Roman.

“Roman, I think it's best if you head home, your mother will be expecting you.” Your dad states, wanting to get you alone so he can pry you for information without making the situation more uncomfortable. You sit down at the couch and bury your head in your hands, mortified. “I'll talk to you about this another time.”

Roman stands quickly and goes to give you a hug but the look on your dads face has him stuttering instead, “I'm so sorry, about all of this and especially the weed, but shes telling the truth.” He looks at you and back to your parents, “Um - I'm gonna go now.”

“Bye Rome.” You whisper, he gives you one last sheepish look before he's out of the door. “Y/N, I'm so disappointed.” Your dad starts. The words make something inside you ache. "I’m only gonna ask you this once, are you fooling around with Roman?”

“No! Dad, oh my god.” You shout and stop to take a deep breath. “He's my best friend, he sees me as like a sister or like Sarah, dad, you know that.” He lets out a heavy sigh. He knows what your friendship with every boy in your circle is like. Hes made it abundantly clear that you're off limits.

Your mother shakes her head at you and you roll your eyes at her. She sometimes overreacts when you get in trouble, being the only girl, she holds you to a higher standard than your brothers. “You're grounded. For a month.” Your mouth drops open but when your dad tilts his head, you know, he'll be talking to her about inflicting such a harsh punishment later.

“Dad! What the hell! Are you going to say anything?”

“Listen, I believe you about Roman, but honey,” he tsks, “There's rules. You were smoking weed in your room and you had a boy sleeping in your bed when we got home.”

“Yeah well, It's not like you're ever here anymore to enforce those rules.” Your dads face softens. “Y/N-” You stand up abruptly.

“I'm going to my room, I accept my punishment.” you say as you beeline out of the room. They let you go, thankfully.

As you pass the kitchen you see Giselle, Nicky, and your younger siblings, Henley and Patton, all eating breakfast silently, having heard the argument. Everyone but Nicky casts you a glance as you walk past. Great, you think, he's probably pissed at me too. You run up the stairs and shut your door a little harder than necessary.

It's around dinner time when you look up from your toes, that you're currently painting baby pink. Your phone is buzzing on your bed and you reach up, hand fumbling around until you feel it.

Romeo: what's the damage?

You immediately text him back, glad he's not upset with you.

Y/N/N: Im grounded for a month, you?

Romeo: A month???

Fuck, thats brutal. Im sorry.

She called me an idiot among other things, nothing serious

Y/N/N: I'm sorry too, that was so stupid

You see him start to type, and then stop. After two minutes of watching the screen you groan and throw your phone onto a pile of clothes across the room. As you are about to finish painting your toes, there's a gentle knock on your bedroom door and it cracks open before you can respond.

Your mom pokes her head inside,”Honey, can I come in.”

You shrug in response, picking your nail polish back up. She comes inside and shuts the door. Sitting across from you on your plush pink rug. “Listen, the way that I handled the situation earlier... I'm sorry. I could have handled it better.” You peek up at her, letting her know you're listening but still upset. “I think it's just scary - for me and your dad. To see our little girl growing up. Being a parent is hard, baby, and we have four of you... but I might have overreacted a bit. I'm sorry that we haven't been around very much. There's been bad business going on in Mexico. But that's for us to worry about, we absolutely will try to be home more. I promise.”

You give her a small smile, “Okay mom.”

She smiles brightly back at you, ”We’re okay?”With arms out silently asking for a hug. You embrace her and she squeezes you tightly. “Oh, and you aren’t grounded -”.

You squeal, rocking you both back and forth.

“- But I swear to baby Jesus, child, If I ever find a boy or weed in here again, I'm locking you in the cellar.”

“Deal.”

She kisses you atop your head and stands up to go,” Dinners gonna be ready in 15.” “Kay,” You're already up, going for your phone.

Y/N/N: Im ungrounded

Roman responds right away this time

Romeo: Can you come to Tanneyhill with Nicky?

After eating dinner and a lot of convincing, you and Nicky pull up to Tanneyhill with a bottle of Crown, he swiped from the cellar. It turns out he wasn't actually mad at all. He told you that he knew Roman didn't see you like that and that our parents were mistaken. Verbatim. Which, honestly kind of stung but you'd take that over him being pissed. Roman was one of his best friends too, after all.

When you guys get to the backyard, everyones in the hot tub. Only Topper, Roman, Rafe, Sarah, and a couple of other girls from school are here. Topper and Rafe are clearly tipsy already, as they're belting the lyrics to some party song that's playing over the big speakers. Roman whispers something in Mia Brown's ear and you can't help the fleeting jealousy that washes over you as she bats her eyes at him and laughs.

“Y/N/N! Come get in.” Sarah whoops when she sees you. He looks over at you with a smile as you and Nicky approach.

“Hey guys.” you say as you set your bag down on a lounge chair and go to take your shorts off.

“Brought the good shit,” Your brother passes the bottle to Rafe who has his arm outstretched. “Thats what the fuck I'm talkin about, bro.”.

After you undress, Rafe offers you his hand to help you step inside the hot tub, your brother following. One girl, whose name you don't remember, gives you a once over from your place between Nicky and Rafe. “So Y/N,” she starts, and you nod, ”We’re talking about midsummers. It's the best time to pop out with your boo before school starts. Who’s your date?”

At that everyone looks at you. Nicky laughs, ”She isn't gonna have a date, are you kidding? My dad would lose his fucking mind.”

“Shut up, I can do whatever I want.”

He scoffs, “No, you can't.”

The girl just smirks and moves so she's sitting next to your brother instead of Topper.

You roll your eyes. “Whatever, Nicky. At least I’m not a suck up.”

Rafe chuckles and holds his hand out for a high five, to which you smile and oblige. He taps your chin “Open up.”

You allow him to pour not one, but two shots into your mouth.

A couple hours later and everyone is pretty fucked up. One of the girls went inside with Nicky an hour ago, Toppers passed out on a lounge chair while Roman, Mia, And Sarah, switched to the pool for a night swim. That leaves you and Rafe in the hot tub alone.

You glance over at the pool just as Roman plants a messy, drunken kiss on Mias lips. They start making out and you and Sarah let out identical groans, although yours is nearly silent. Rafe glances at you and follows your eyes to see what you're looking at and when he does, he smirks to himself.

Sarah pulls herself out of the pool. “Get a freaking room.”

Roman pulls away from the petite brunette in front of him. “That's a great idea. Mia, my room?”

Your heart rate picks up and you look away from the pair. You knew Roman messed around with girls, but you didn't expect him to ever be so casual about it around you, given the kiss you two shared. You think about this morning, how your parents embarrassed you to the point that he would probably never look at you in the way that you did him. As the trio head inside, you start to stand, wanting to lock yourself in a guest room and mope yourself to sleep.

“Hey, don't leave.” Rafe whines across from you. “I don't wanna stay out here alone, and it's only like 9. Want a shot?”

You absolutely want a shot. “Fuck, please.” You sit back down and watch as he leans his torso over the edge of the hot tub and swipes a bottle of vodka off of the bar top.

Turning back around he beckons you with a finger. “Come here, beautiful.”

It didn't surprise you to hear him call you this. Rafe has always been blatant like that. Not just with you, he has pet names on a constant loop, probably because he can never remember the names of the girls he messes with.

What shocks the shit out of you is when you’re directly in front of him waiting for him to pour a shot in your mouth but he sets the bottle down, grabs your thighs and pulls you onto his lap so you're straddling him in the warm water. You gasp, feeling him hard, against you.

You pull away slightly. “Rafe, what the fuck?”

He picks the bottle back up keeping you close to him with an arm around your back, hand resting between your shoulder blades. “Y/N/N, it's fine. Just gonna give you a shot, yeah?” He looks at you expectantly and in your stupor you just open your mouth. After one shot, he holds it back up so he can give you another. Grimacing at the taste you wipe your mouth while he takes two shots of his own.

Setting it back down out of the way, he rests his hand on your thigh, gripping it. “You look really fucking sexy right now, Y/N/N.” He admires your body on top of his with his piercing blue eyes and wets his bottom lip with his tongue.

You get this warm feeling in your belly, and then it spreads. No one had ever said that to your face before. “Yeah?” You giggle a bit when your words are slightly slurred. ”You always do too, Rafe.”

He raises his eyebrows,” Yeah? I didn't know you thought that”.

“I would've never told you unless it was under these exact circumstances, so...”

He mulls that over. “That's fair enough.” And then, “I heard you fucked Roman.”

You look at him incredulously and push yourself back, off of his lap completely, “What?”

He puts his hands up, “My bad, I was just gonna ask If it bothered you that hes fucking Mia right now, the same day.” Your jaw drops and you scoff as you feel your eyes start to fill up with hot tears.

“Youre so fucking rude. No, I didnt fuck him and no I dont care.” The thought of people gossiping about what happened, on the same day it happened, sends fear through your gut.

“Then why are you crying?” He points out as a single tear falls, your heart betraying your desire to keep your feelings at bay.

“Fuck you, Rafe.” You start to get out of the hot tub but this time he stands up and snatches you up, depositing you back on his lap. “Stop, I didn't say it to be mean, okay?” You push at him but you're nearly full on crying at this point and very tipsy. “Y/N, I’m sorry. I just meant that my cousin, is a fucking Idiot.”

You give up on getting out of his lap, sniffling and running a hand through your curls.

“It's not his fault, Rafe. Nothing even happened, my parents are just insane.” You meet his calm gaze with your tearful one. He brings one hand from around you to wipe under your eyes.

“That's not what I'm talking about, Y/N.” His hand finds your waist again and he leans back slightly to look at you, “I think he's an idiot for not seeing how special you are.”

“W- what?” You wrinkle your nose. You never thought you’d hear Rafe say something so... sweet to you.

“Roman told me what happened on your dads boat.”

Your heart jumps into your throat. “He did?” You whisper. Rafe nods slowly, studying you.

“What did he say?”

“Honestly, a bunch of bullshit. Y’know, he was just rambling about it ruining the group and shit. I honestly expected you two to get together, anyway. But like I said he’s an idiot. Doesnt know a good thing when he sees it. You deserve better.”

You examine Rafes face to see if this is just a mean joke, but you only find a genuine expression. Something more, in his eyes that you can't decipher. You sigh, deciding to just accept what he said. Roman clearly didn't care or didnt remember the kiss and wasn't going to acknowledge it anytime soon. So neither will you. Roman was inside probably fucking someone else, So maybe you will too.

You hesitantly drape your arms around his shoulders, “Show me better.” You whisper.

Rafes eyes widened slightly, as if he didn't expect you to agree with him, let alone say that. “I- Y/N, how? What do you want?”

You testingly grind yourself against him, rolling your hips down. And when you do it again, he moans at the feeling of you pressed against him. “Shit, baby.” Your mouth opens in a silent gasp as he returns one hand to the centre of your back to keep you close and uses the hand on your hip to move you against him again, harder. You don't even have time to process the fact that you’re basically dry humping your childhood friend in his hot tub before Rafe begins pushing you back and forth over his dick faster, both of you letting out the filthiest moans as he watches your face.

“Look at me baby.”

You look down at him, trying to control the feeling building up in your lower belly and he places a hand in your hair, pulling you to connect his mouth with yours. There are no similarities between the way he and Roman kiss. While Roman kissed you sweetly, and let you take it slow, Rafe dominated the kiss. It was all tongue and lip bites, while you mewled against him from the pressure of his clothed erection against your clit. This was by far the hottest thing you'd ever done with any boy.

He suddenly lets go of your hair, breaking away from the messy kiss. He glances down at the space between you and suddenly his thumb is rubbing circles against your clit and you’re crying out his name.

“Rafe! Fu- oh shit.” At this point you're digging your nails into his shoulder and rocking your hips against him, like a bitch in heat while he watches you in awe.

“Yeah, baby girl, you like that?” He sucks a hickey onto your neck and peppers it with soft kisses as he draws you closer to your release with his fingers and his mouth.

“Yes, please don't stop. Feels so good.” You can feel yourself hitting a pinnacle and you let out a strangled sound, and your stomach clenches as you try to contain your orgasm.

“Let go, give me all that stress, Y/N. Cum for me.”

His lust laden voice sends you over the edge and you drop your forehead onto his and let your eyes flutter shut as you cum in your bikini on top of Rafe, with raw moans spilling past your lips. He still rubs your clit and you feel your pussy fluttering around nothing while you come down from the most intense 15 seconds of your life.

When you open your eyes Rafes is already looking at you, lightly stroking your back. The eye contact makes you both grin and he breaks the quiet moment. “Was that.. your first time doing that?” You shake your head no, still trying to catch your breath. “Dont lie to me, Y/N.”

Smiling, you sit back a bit, “So what if it was? I told you I can do whatever I want.”

Rafe smirks at you. “Yes you can, princess.”, He stands up with you abruptly and carries you out of the water, towards the back door to the house while you laugh. “You're sleeping in my room with me tonight, gorgeous girl.”

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