#hop was a messy child

[sttoru]

tags. dad!toji x wife!reader. fluff. reader gets called ‘doll’

“toji, you’re gonna break that thing,” you stifle a laugh as you watch your husband’s muscular form squeeze into one of the playground equipments. megumi is on his lap, giggling as he gets to experience what it’s like to go down a slide with his parent.

toji rolls his eyes and grumbles something along the lines of ‘the damn brat forced me to’. you know how weak that man gets when his son looks up at him with those big, sparkly blue eyes. you’d have given in to megumi’s requests as well if you were in his place. thus you don’t blame your lover at all.

“papa, go!” the little boy pats his dad’s thighs, excitedly smacking the muscles. the pure glee on his tiny face makes you smile as you witness the scene from the bench nearby.

“give me a sec, kid,” toji responds with a grunt. his legs are pressed tightly against each other, trying to wiggle down the slide. his body isn’t going anywhere— not even moving down one centimetre.

you can’t help the laugh that erupts from your throat while you watch toji struggle. the confused and impatient look on megumi’s face as he glances up at his father is pure gold. “papa go?” your son pouts and squirms.

this is embarrassing for toji. he can’t wait to get off and go home. the only thing he can do is pray that no one else sees this view of a grown ass man stuck on a slide.

you pull out your phone and start recording the hilarious sight. “hun,” you call out to toji, covering your mouth while giggling behind the camera. “you can do it!”

your humorous encouragement makes the dark-haired man kiss his teeth, “tsk, quit that.” he manages to move his legs in a certain way so he could glide down. the process however is quite. . slow.

toji’s body stutters and goes down the slide in a wonky way. megumi is not amused at all as he sits there and stares downwards, cheeks puffed up. he expected to go much faster than this.

the toddler looks like he’s about to complain the moment he reaches the bottom.

“mamaaaaaa!”

as expected, the little boy quickly hops off toji’s lap, leaving his humiliated dad sitting at the end of the slide. megumi runs off to you and jumps up onto your lap, an angry yet adorable frown on his face. he whines and hugs you, refusing to face your husband who’s walking towards you.

toji scoffs at the sight. “oi, you ungrateful little shit,” he comments and crosses his muscular arms over his chest, “y’ should be thanking me for squeezin’ my ass up on that tiny thing.” he glances down at his son who’s clearly sulking in your arms, disappointed in his performance.

you’d usually scold toji for using such foul language around the kid, though you can’t stop yourself from giggling at the situation. megumi actually got offended by his dad being unable to properly go down the slide with him; it’s adorable.

“no, papa shit!” megumi retorts unexpectedly, causing you to laugh even louder. you shake your head and try to make a serious face - to reprimand your child from saying such words - only to fail.

toji clearly didn’t expect the boy to mimic him again. he raises an eyebrow and you know he’s not going to hold back. that man will fight anyone, even his own son who’s only a toddler.

“whadd’ya say there, bud?” your husband huffs and takes a step forward. megumi squeals as he feels the intimidating aura of his dad get closer to him. he squirms off your lap and runs off into the playground, squeaking.

you watch your child scurry off in attempt to escape toji. you grin to yourself, seeing the excitement return on megumi’s face at the aspect of playing with his parent.

toji runs a hand through his messy black hair as he sees the toddler run around the park, excepting him to follow and play with him. he wouldn’t admit it out loud, but it’s adorable how his son never stays mad at him for long.

it perfectly describes the father-son relationship they have. he wouldn’t want to have it any other way.

toji then shoots you a smirk, leaning down so you’re face to face. he flicks your forehead gently and pinches your cheek, reminding you of one thing before going off to chase after megumi;

“i’ll be dealing with ya later for that video y’ made, doll. don’cha think i forgot.”

[sturnioz]

fratboy!chris getting stuck babysitting with shy!reader isn't how he imagined spending his wednesday.

requested. yes authors note. i changed the original request up a bit to match personalities and themes of the au.

cookie batter and flour splatter across your clothes and smudge your cheeks, a mess created by the small child standing beside you on a chair; his tiny hands swiping at the countertop, trying to tidy up the chaos as you both giggle, already anticipating how bee will react when she walks through the door to find the apartment in such a state.

luckily, bee is with nate, so you breathe a sigh of relief knowing she won't be home for a long while.

noah, your cousin, tilts his head, his wide, curious eyes sparkling with excitement as he watches the oven — the warm, sweet aroma of cookies filling the air, and you can see the anticipation building in his expression.

you smile softly, nudging him gently with your shoulder to get his attention. "they'll be done soon, i promise."

his bottom lip sticks out in a cute pout, his voice filled with hope as he asks, "how long?"

"not long," you reassure him, taking the dirty paper towels from his small hands and tossing them into the trash. you help him down from the chair, your hands steadying him as he hops to the ground, giving him a gentle squeeze. "go wash your hands, okay? they're all sticky and messy."

"'kay!" noah replies, his face lighting up with a toothy grin before he scampers off to the bathroom. you take a take deep, letting out out slowly as you rub your forehead, eyeing the mess around the kitchen.

with determination, you roll up you sleeves and quickly get to work, scrubbing away the remnants of flour and batter. you focus on each surface, wiping it down thoroughly until it gleams, almost as if it's been untouched.

stepping back, a satisfied grin spreads across your face as you admire your work, your head turning to the side when you hear noah's sock-covered feet pad back across the wooden floor as he returns.

"are they ready now?" he asks, his excitement bubbling over as he bounces on his toes, nearing towards the oven.

"almost," you reply, your voice calm and reassuring as you gently steer him away from the oven. you then glance own at your clothes, dusted with flour and streaked with sticky batter, and you grimace lightly, "i need to wash up. can you wait a little longer?"

noah nods eagerly and settles at the kitchen table, his wide eyes still sparkling with anticipation as he struggles to look away from the cookies baking. you quickly make your way to the bathroom, turning on the faucet and lathering soap between your palms, washing away the batter between your fingertips.

after rinsing, you splash some water across your face, wiping away the flour residue with a damp cloth, taking a moment to breathe deeply once feeling a little more cleaner.

you leave your bathroom to walk into your room, changing into a fresh shirt and throwing the dirty one into the laundry basket before you make your way back into the kitchen, the familiar chime of the over timer ringing out, a signal that your cookies are done.

you open the over door slowly, letting the warm, chocolatey scent fill the air, the golden-brown cookies making your mouth water a little. you reach for the tray carefully, settling it down on the counter before grabbing a spatula, transferring the cookies onto a clean plate.

"can i have one?" noah pleads as he slides off the kitchen chair, standing on his tiptoes beside you as he tries to get a better look at the warm treats.

"you've got to let them cool down a bit first... they're too hot." you explain calmly.

noah huffs, crossing his arms defiantly as he whines. "but i don't wanna wait!"

"i know.." you reply as you crouch down to meet his gaze. "but i really don't want you to burn yourself."

"i wont!" he insists.

"you will," you tease, a playful smile spreading across your lips as you reach out to gently pinch his cheeks, making him burst into a fit of giggles and swat your hands away. you then continue, "i promise the second they're done, you'll be the first to have a bite, okay?"

"okay..." noah murmurs reluctantly, and you smile, ruffling the hair on top of his head affectionately before standing back up, taking a quick glance at the cookies on the plate just as you hear your apartment door swing open.

you immediately assume it's bee, a little surprised to hear her back so early, but the voice that follows the sound of the door closing proves you wrong.

"kid, stop puttin' me on fuckin' do not disturb before i—" chris rounds the corner, his words trailing off as he halts in the kitchen doorway. his eyebrows knit together as he takes in the scene, staring. "what the fuck is that?"

"cookies," you reply cheerfully with a grin, but you quickly realise that's not what he's focussed on. his eyes are glued to the little bog clinging to your legs, wide-eyed and unsure. "oh! this is—"

"what is it doin' here?"

you're used to his blunt attitude and behaviour, but you frown disapprovingly at his tone around noah. "don't be mean."

"wh... why is there a kid in your kitchen?" chris presses, his gaze fixed on noah, who stares back with wide, innocent eyes. chris bristles at that, his posture tensing like a coiled spring. "he got a starin' problem or somethin'? why is he starin' at me like that?"

"chris!" you exclaim, instinctively reaching down to lay your hand across the top of noah's head, offering him reassurance. "this is noah, he's my cousin. i'm babysitting him for the day." then, you tilt your head to the side, genuinely curious. "how come you're here?"

"think its uh.. inappropriate to tell you why i'm here in front of a kid, dumbass. use your head," chris scoffs, his tone sharp, and you feel a flush of embarrassment creeping up your neck as you realise what he means. "how uh, how long is he stayin' for?"

"a few hours."

the look on his face is enough to tell you he's frustrated — his jaw muscles clench, a slight glare forming in his eyes, and his brows furrow deeply. it's clear he's not happy about being held back, but it's not like you can just drop everything for him... not right now, anyway.

"do you want a cookie?" a quiet voice speaks up beside you, and you look down in surprise at noah, who's still glued to your leg, his voice timid yet hopeful.

chris' gaze flicks down to the little boy, his tongue prodding against his cheek as mulls over his question before murmuring, "i don't like cookies."

"everyone likes cookies," noah interjects.

"yeah, well i'm picky, kid," chris snaps back, and you can't help but feel a tug at the corners of your mouth. it's almost amusing how chris seems to be having a serious debate with a child. "a'ight? the only cookies i like are my—"

"can we eat them now?" noah cuts off chris, and you can see the baffled expression fall over chris' face at the audacity, a scoff leaving his lips as he shakes his head in disbelief.

you genuinely smile this time and nod your head, grabbing one of the cookies from the plate and handing it over to noah who takes it eagerly, his eyes lighting up as he stares at the treat in his small hands.

you watch as noah guides the cookie to his mouth, but then he stops halfway, puffing out his cheek sin thought. you can see the wheels turning in his mind, and before you can question him, he suddenly breaks the cookie in half, the texture soft and gooey, chocolate chips oozing slightly from the centre.

your eyebrows raise in surprise when noah totters over to chris, his little hand outstretched, shyly holding out the other half of his cookie. "here.. you can have this."

chris blinks down at the offered piece incredulously, clearly taken aback and not knowing how to respond. the tension in the room shifts a little, and chris shakes his head.

"no."

"take it," noah insists with a whine, his brows furrowing in determination. "it's really good."

you watch as chris shifts his weight, an unusual flustered look crossing his face that leaves you feeling taken aback. you've hardly seen him like this before—awkward and at a loss for words.

in some sort of weird way... you like it.

chris lets out a quiet huff, his gaze fixed on the little boy who's staring up at him with wide, hopeful eyes. after a brief moment of hesitation, he reluctantly reaches out to take the offered half, his nose twitching as his fingers brush against the warm chocolate that melts slightly onto his skin.

he takes a cautious bite, and for a fleeting second, you catch a glimpse of something on his features, caught off guard.

"not... not that bad," he admits begrudgingly, chewing slowly while glaring down at noah, who is practically glowing. "this doesn't mean—"

"told you!" noah cuts him off excitedly, beaming from ear to ear as he shoves his part of the cookie into his mouth. you feel a rush of panic, worried he might choke, but he manages to chew without issue, his little face filled with joy and chocolate smeared across his cheeks.

chris clicks his tongue against his teeth, his irritation clear. "don't you have any manners, kid? gotta stop cuttin' me off 'cos i'm gonna—"

"come with me!" noah interrupts again, his small hand wrapping around chris' finger as he tugs him away from the kitchen. chris looks utterly baffled, annoyance flickering in his expression as he's led into the living-room.

you can't help but watch with interest, your curiosity piqued as you follow them with your gaze. chris plops down on the couch with a huff, his posture tense as he tries to settle into the unexpected situation.

he tongues at his cheek, glancing around as if searching for an escape while noah, who is still excited, climbs up beside him, dragging his baby blue backpack onto the couch.

chris doesn't look interested at all, in fact, he looks bored, annoyed, frustrated — his jaw grinding subtly as noah babbles on about the toys and gadgets he has brought over.

you plate up another cookie and grab a juice box before making your way towards the pair, setting it down in front of noah who reaches for it eagerly, his little hands grasping at the cookie while he continues to talk, his mouth full.

"don't—don't talk with your mouth full, kid. where's your manners, huh?" chris scolds him, and you think he's such a hypocrite; you're pretty sure chris has done the exact same thing at least once or twice. but your eyebrows raise in surprise as chris grumbles and reaches out, swiping his thumb across a chocolate stain on noah's chubby cheeks. "you're a mess. y'hear me? mess."

noah grins sheepishly, wiping his cheek with the back of his hand before continuing to show chris his toys, but chris doesn't seem to be fully present. his attention drifts to a keychain that hangs off the zipper of noah's backpack—a lacrosse stick.

"you play lacrosse, kid?" he asks quietly, his fingers reaching out to touch the keychain, twirling it between his fingers slowly.

"m'learning," noah replies, chewing on his cookie nonchalantly.

"do you uh... you... you like it?" chris asks again, but there's some hesitation in his voice.

you notice a strange look on his face, as if the topic stirs up something. it's clear he's struggling, grappling thoughts. you tilt your head to the side, watching his reaction closely.

noah nods in response to chris' question, and chris hums, "good... that's good." he says, his voice barely above a whisper.

"do you like it?" noah asks back politely, and you smile softly at his kindness.

"i—yea—w..." chris stammers, clearly choking on his words, struggling to speak. his takes his hat off, running a hand through his tousled hair before putting it back on, fixing the brim to shield his eyes. "s'fine."

"my dad teaches me how to play!" noah continues, oblivious to the tension.

"yeah?" chris murmurs, his voice voices lacks the enthusiasm it should carry. "mine uh.. mine too. was my coach in high school."

noah, still excited, doesn't pick up on chris' discomfort. but you do. you notice it immediately — the subtle shift in chris' posture, and the tightening of his jaw.

you want to ask him about it, to somehow coax him into a conversation that might reveal what's bothering him. but deep down, you know he'll shut you down before the question even finishes being asked, so you remain quiet, simply observing as chris' expression hardens slightly.

his gaze flits over to you during the middle of noah's enthusiastic babbling, his eyebrows furrowing at the way you're staring at him. you blink, quickly looking away, trying to fake interest in the tv.

but the tension in the room is obvious, you can feel it hanging in the air — thick and uncomfortable.

when you slowly look back at him, you find that he's still watching you, and your face grows a little hot at being caught.

"fix that starin' problem, kid," chris finally says to you, his voice carrying irritation. but the usual teasing tone he uses isn't fully there; you can sense the strain beneath his words.

he forces a smirk that doesn't quite reach his eyes, a façade you've never seen before. it's not real, it's so clearly fake that it makes you feel a pang of empathy for him. but you swallow it down, knowing that pushing him would probably make everything a lot worse.

instead, you direct your attention back to noah, who is still animatedly babbling, trying to forget that nagging voice in the back of your head.

divider credits. @issysh3ll

© STURNIOZ

[breannasfluff]

Snow Angels, Damian and Danny

“Damian! You gotta try this!” Danny flops back in the snow, arms and legs starfished in the snow. He starts swinging them back and forth. He is possibly deranged.

Damian stands awkwardly as he watches. “That is nonsensical. You are only getting cold and wet.”

“It’s fun, kid. Try it.”

He can do fun. It’s just—he doesn’t understand what purpose the action serves. The longer he stands and watches, the slower Danny flops his arms and legs. Is this a trick?

The halfa sits up on his elbows with a frown. “Dami, have you made a snow angel before?”

“Don’t call me that,” he says in reflex.

“You didn’t answer the question.”

“It was a stupid one.” Okay, maybe he doesn’t know how. And maybe doesn’t want to admit it. Damian rarely minds being raised as an assassin until moments like this. Times when Father’s smile pulls into a frown or Richard’s eyes tighten with pity. Snow angels must be another of the items he should understand as a child.

“Let’s make yours an angel of death!” Danny hops out of the snow and pushes Damian a few steps over to the blank snow. “Okay, turn around. I’m going to push you back; just let yourself fall.”

“I know how to fall!”

“Great!” Danny shoves his chest and Damian goes back, flailing slightly as he tries to abort the instinctive movement to right himself. The snow is cold on the back of his neck.

“Now move your legs back and forth. The idea is to push the snow to the side and make a depression. That’s the angel’s skirt.”

It’s easy to push through the fluffy snow. Rather than bring his legs all the way together to make a skirt he leaves space between. His death angel can wear loose pants.

Danny grins and floats, hovering above Damian to look down at the shape. He cheats, but Richard says he can’t call it cheating because it’s part of Danny’s natural biology. It’s still cheating.

“Ok, your arms make the wings. And press your head in or the angel will be headless.”

Damian obligingly moves his arms, spreading snow around. It’s silly. Why do children do this for fun? “Now what?”

“I’m going to pull you up and out so you don’t ruin it with footprints.” Ignoring that Damian could easily spring out of the snow, Danny wraps his arms intangibly around Damian and pulls him up into the air. Then he’s deposited back in the trampled snow.

“The last touch is your katana.” The halfa grabs it, floating over to press it in the snow to the side of one of the wings. “Perfect. What do you think?”

It’s…silly. It only holds a passing resemblance to an angel. The sword floats without a hand to hold it. Damian frowns. “It’s passable.”

Danny hums, but doesn’t let the reaction dissuade him. “Here, let’s try this.”

He’s scooped up in Danny’s arms again and they float up into the air. He does not clutch the halfa’s shoulder in surprise, merely tightens his grip so as not to slip.

“Look down.”

From above, the angel looks a lot better. The sword looks less out of place. Danny’s snow angel is next to his, messy from where he jumped out of the snow. There’s no one to see Damian’s shy smile except Danny, who won’t tell.

“Thank you for showing me, Daniel.”

“Danny,” comes the easy, oft-repeated reply. “And you’re welcome. Snow angels are the best when made with friends, don’t you think?”

He leans his head against Danny’s shoulder, looking at the pair. “Yeah. I do.”

for @meowmeowmeowmeow4x

Prompt List

[thesuperiorrobin]

Bruce told him countless times.

It’s dangerous to get close to a civilian as a hero. But when does Damian Wayne ever listen to his father? But he retreats it. He should have listened to him this one time, however. When the news broke out that a certain girl was taken in broad daylight on her way home from school, He knew. It was a gut feeling. A horrible feeling that ate him away.

You two have been caught countless times—with headlines booming on the news about the secret girl Robin has been seen with. The good thing is no one has gotten a good clear picture of your face.

Until now that is.

Damian doesn’t know how they found out about you—much less figure out the specific route you take home. It takes him two days to find out where you are. With no help.

He wanted to find you and bring you back home safely.

To your family and back to him.

The men that belonged to Joker weren’t bright, but they were kind enough to keep you fed at least. They wanted you alive to be used as bait to capture Robin. You kept your distance from them, tried to at least. When they asked you about his identity you kept your mouth shut. For one reason being that you don’t know his identity. They never believed you. It was always the same for two days straight. They’ll get angry and take it out on you if you said nothing—hopping that the constant abuse would lead you to blurt it out.

At the end of the second day, you’re curled away in the corner. Knees pulled to your chest, head down trying to hide away. You were scared that they were going to kill you if you didn’t fuss up, fearing that you’d die for something you never knew. You could hear heavy footsteps—the sound made your heart drop every time and when the door slammed open, you couldn’t help but let out a yelp, scooting closer to the wall hoping it’ll suck you up as you covered your face.

Someone grabs ahold of your wrist—as a reflex you try to get away from their hold. Thrashing and pulling, But they’re much stronger than you are.

“Let go!” You shout “I already told you I don’t know who he is! Please I’m telling the truth!”

“Hey—y/n—Hey!” Your ears seem to block out the person who calls out your name as you keep fighting until the person grasps ahold of your forearms—shanking you roughly to get you out of the trance. They bring their hand up and you flinch back.

“Y/n, It’s me! Please you need to calm down” You are taken aback by the sudden familiar voice and you finally open your eyes as you look up. Green, red, and yellow fill your vision—and green eyes stare back at yours. You recognize them.

You recognize him.

Damian stands before you with his mask stripped off his face and a worried look painted on his features. Your breathing is heavy “Dam……Damian?”

He nods, gloved hand bringing itself up towards your face gently as he brushes strands of hair out of your face to get a better look. Clothes torn, hair messy, dirt and specks of dried blood cover your body as well as faint bruises that he could see. It makes him angry, but his priority is you right now. Bruce is dealing with the idiots who took you.

“It’s me. Yes—are-are you alright?”

You don’t answer—instead, you throw yourself in his arms—wrapping your arms around his shoulders as you clutch his cape. Damian doesn’t hesitate as he wraps his arms around your waist securely, soothing you as he gently rubs up and down your back. Like how a parent would soothe their crying child at night. He can feel you shaking in his arms and sobs that escape past your lips break his heart, all he can do is stay quiet and hold you.

“It’s alright, I got you. You’re safe now”

[riordanness]

pick up lines - [p.jackson]

pairing: percy jackson x reader

wordcount: 1.4K

warnings: none

I hated waking up.

Not that sleeping was particularly amazing, being a demigod and all, but waking up really sucked. I'd been resting peacefully (not), when I was rudely shaken from my sleep by the breakfast bell.

Unfortunately, I had never been an early riser, so most mornings, there was a mad rush, involving a lot of mess, losing everything I needed, and desperately trying, (and failing) to clean up my cabin before inspection, which was right after breakfast.

I was generally the one who had the messiest cabin during inspection.

I finally was dressed in jeans and an orange Camp Half-Blood shirt, with my h/c hair pulled away from my face. Then, I ran to the dining pavilion.

I was a daughter of Demeter, the plant goddess. Yeah, I'm sure most of you are thinking: Oh, wow, plants... But seriously, it's kinda cool. I do have some pretty sweet powers. I can grow any plants from practically nothing, control plants and stuff, and sense things in the earth. I can even use plants to travel instantly from one place to another, by just hopping through the trees, or seeds, or flowers, or weeds, or . . . whatever.

I slipped into my seat next to Katie Gardner, my elder sister. She was the counsellor for Cabin Demeter. Katie was super nice, but she was always busy at the moment, mostly hanging out with her new boyfriend, Travis Stoll, Son of Hermes.

"You slept in again," Katie whispered to me, trying, and failing epically, to hide her laughter. "We thought it was best not to try and wake you."

That was probably smart. If someone woke me up, they'd most likely leave that situation with a black eye and seeds growing in their skin. I can be fairly lethal when I want to be.

"I stated up too late again last night," I said back, my voice also low. I didn't like when other kids were listening in on my conversations, especially those Hermes kids.

"Doing what?" Katie smirked, like she knew something I didn't.

"Um..." What was I doing? Hanging out with my best friend of course. Who also happened to be the cutest and most popular guy at camp. The only current Son of Posiedon. Percy Jackson.

"I was with Percy, at the beach. We were finding lost starfish and chucking them back in the water..." My voice faltered. I wasn't good at lying. 'At the beach' was accurate. We'd been laying on a picnic blanket, watching the stars, and just talking about everything and anything, for hours. We did that almost every night. It was the best feeling in the world, just being with him.

"Uh huh." Katie turned back to her food. "He likes you, y/n, I'm sure of it. Just as much as you like him, I bet."

"Katie!" I hissed, my face beet red, but the words pleased me. I'd had a crush on Percy Jackson since the first day he arrived at Camp Half-Blood, tired and bruised and scratched from fighting the Minotaur. He'd limped into camp, stole my heart, and became the coolest guy at camp within a month.

And yes, I was in love with him. We'd been best friends for years, and we hung out all the time. How could I possibly not fall for him, with his stupid trouble-maker grin, his dark, messy hair, his sparkling sea-green baby-seal eyes, and his voice. He was, at least in my eyes, perfect.

***

Later, I was practicing my sword-fighting in the arena, hacking arms and legs and heads off the stuffed straw dummies. I'd never been the best fighter, but I felt like I was getting the hang of my sword.

"Are you a child of Hermes?" a joking voice rang out from behind me. I spun around, and came face to face with one of the Hephestus kids. Leo Valdez, maybe?

I blew my hair out of my face, breathing hard. "Um, no? Demeter, actually. Why?"

The boy, Leo, cracked a grin. "Because you stole my heart."

I blinked, not sure what to say. I never really spoke to any of the kids from Hephestus cabin, especially not this one.

"Uh, okay... thanks, I guess?"

Leo grinned again, then ran off without saying anything else. Okay... that was pretty weird.

I decided to go for a walk, to cool down and to stretch my legs a bit, so I headed for the basketball courts, where a bunch of kids were playing a really aggressive game.

I plopped down on the grass a few meters back from the courts, and watched the game. It looked like Ares and Apollo (a strange match), against Athena, Dionysus, and a couple other kids, like Jason Grace, Nico Di Angelo, and Percy.

I found myself watching Percy more than the other players, but snapped my eyes away from him once I realised. I didn't want anyone seeing me staring at my best friend.

After a while, the players called for a break, and Jason Grace approached me. "Oh, hey (Y/N)," he smiled at me, sitting beside me and taking a swig of water from a drink bottle.

"Hey," I said back. Again, I was surprised at why Jason was talking to me. He didn't usually. Demeter kids were looked over quite a bit, and Jason was one of the big shots - a child of Zeus. Of course, Percy was a son of Posiedon, and he talked to me, but that was different. I'd known Percy for years, even before we came here at twelve years old. I'd know him since he was seven.

"Are you a child of Hades?" Jason asked suddenly.

I frowned at him. "No. Demeter, actually. Why does everyone keep-?"

I was cut off by Jason grinning and saying: "Because I'm dying to call you mine."

I swallowed. "Um..."

Jason got up and walked away, heading back to his game. I was totally confused, so I stood up, brushed off my jean shorts, and decided to go to the strawberry fields, where I usually spent most of my time, among the plants. Plants always calmed me down, and this random guys telling me pick-up lines were a little stressful. I wasn't the kind of girl who normally got guys, anyway.

After a few minutes of walking up and down the strawberry aisles, I ran into Nico di Angelo. Nico wasn't usually the sort of person you ran into in the strawberry fields, so I was surprised.

"Oh, hi, Nico," I said cheerily, waving at him. Nico and I were actually pretty good friends, so I was glad to see him. We got along surprisingly well, considering our parents' rivalry. You know, the whole Persephone getting kidnapped thing.

"Are you a child of Hephestus?" Nico stammered, blushing with embarrassment.

At this point, I was utterly confused.

"No!" I said, frowning. "I'm a daughter of Demeter, and I know you know that, Nico. And why does everyone keep trying these stupid pick-up lines on me? Besides... you like guys, don't you?"

"Well, um..." Nico shrugged and ran off, leaving me in a state of helpless confusion.

I sank to my knees in the soft grass, picking at it with my fingers. "What's happening with me today?" I wondered aloud.

"Hey, are you Aphrodite?" a familiar voice asked. "Because you're divinely gorgeous."

I glanced up, meeting the sea-green eyes of my best friend. "Percy?" I asked. "You too? What's-?"

Percy stopped me, sitting down cross-legged beside me. "Hey, I've- I've liked you for ages, but I never told you because I was scared you'd not feel the same and so we'd lose our awesome friendship, but the guys found out and so they were trying to make me jealous enough to admit me feelings today, by trying out pick-up lines on you, so, well, I- I decided that I should just tell you.”

I sucked in a breath. "Oh my gods," I managed. "You stupid son of Posiedon."

"What?" Percy chuckled nervously.

"Are you a child of the Sea God?" I asked softly. "Because I'm drowning in your beautiful eyes."

Gathering all my courage, I leaned forward and pressed my mouth against Percy's, feeling him smile against my lips, and I couldn't have wished for anything more.

[writingchalamet]

Angels Like You IV

Angels like you I

Angels like you II

Angels like you III

AN: it’s here! Sorry for taking so long, my nephews have been staying with me this week and keep trying to look at my laptop while I write 💀

Word count: 3.5k

Warnings: violence, blood, MATT (because everyone hates Matt) trauma, breaking and entering, SMUT, heavy petting, oral (f receiving) fingering.

You’re welcome…

Chapter IV

Matt didn’t like seeing you with Bucky one bit. The thought that you had moved on so ‘quickly’ after him sent his mind into overdrive. He was good at hinting in the shadows, the day he left the bakery beaten and broken he didn’t go to a hospital or return home like he should have, he waited. Watching in the shadows until you inevitably got in your car and drove home, where he followed, rage simmering inside him. He watched from a distance as Bucky ushered you into your house after collected his child. It was the first time he actually saw the kid, and he hated to say it but he felt a tingle inside him, not the warm fuzzy, loving feeling a father should feel when they see their baby for the first time. But one of hatred. The kid he laid his eyes on was the one thing that took you away from him.

So he bided his time. And watched. He learned your routine, your ins and outs of the house, learned how your new play thing never really left your side much. You hadn’t left the house much since the incident but he liked to spot your movements through the house, you almost worked like clockwork, around the house, doing everything for the child, he despised it, that should be him that you were running around for in there, taking care of, cooking for, god he missed your cooking. One thing he hated more though was the way he saw you and Bucky looking at each other, even through windows he could feel the tension, making him want to tear his own eyes out.

He just needed to wait for the perfect opportunity, and that came the night that Sam came and took the kid over to the neighbours house, Matt figured something must be going on, they must be leaving the house, he had a chance, a chance to do what exactly he didn’t know, but he’d figure that out soon enough. He saw your neighbours leave your house, then you and your new man head out looking all dolled up, he couldn’t stand the sight of it, he waited a while longer, waiting for all the lights to shut off next door before making his move, he travelled to the back of the house, hopping the fence, scurrying across the garden until he reached the back door, taking off his leather jacket, balling it around his fist, he smashed the panel of glass closest to the lock, reaching through the newly made hole, flicking the lock open and letting himself into your home.

He took in the scent as he stepped through the threshold. Bergamot and orange blossom tingled in his nostrils, the strong smell instantly reminding him of you. He wondered aimlessly at first, taking in the sight of your home. The warm homey touches that covered every inch of the house, it sickened him. The house was spottles, considering a toddler lived there, but then again, he had trained you well, he didn't like you to be messy, he was glad to see you still kept things tidy just how he liked. Not that he was clean. he ventured up the stairs to find a bedroom t the end of the hall with the word 'Forrest' hung on the door in Buntin. He guessed that was the name of his child, he still didn't know if it was a girl or a boy, you had kept that fact well hidden from him. He stepped towards the room, opening the door with a creek, finding an array of colourful toys, a Peter Pan mural painted on the walls and fluffy cloud lamps and light fixtures. Even the cot bed had been made pristine, this woman was conditioned he thought to himself.

He looked through the small chest of drawers under the changing table fiddling with some of the small shirts when his eye landed on one baby grow in particular, a 'mama's boy' one, it felt like another kick in the teeth to know he had a son, in some sick way to him it felt like another man to take you away from him. He wished you had never ran away, that he had never left that day so he would have been able to sort this whole problem out, there would be no Forrest, and it could just be the two of you again. No he'd have to sort out the Forrest problem another time, when the little bleeder was home.

He came out of the room and closed the door behind him. next finding your bedroom, the room smelt sweet like your perfume, the smell overwhelming him, he walked to your vanity noticing the makeup you had left out, you never wore makeup when you were with him, his mind hurt at the thought of you dressing up to go out with another man, he looked over at the bed, thinking about all the different things Bucky has probably done to you in that bed. Matt stormed out the room and back down the stairs until he found the Kitchen, deciding to wait there for your return, which apparently wouldn't be too long a wait. He heard the front door opening as well as the distinct sound of kissing, the occasional grunt and soft moans from you, He stood in the doorway of the kitchen waiting for you to notice him, only for him to realise you were to caught up to care there was an intruder in your house. He flicked the light on beside him, sparking your fright.

"Well, isn't this cosy?" he spoke smugly, head tilted, sly sile on his face, even with his hand all bandaged up and the dark circles under his eyes, he still acted as though he was God's gift to the earth. before you have a chance to explain yourself Bucky chimes in from his place behind you. arms strong and protective around your waist. "What are you doing here, Matt?" he oozed confidence when he spoke, and almost seemed unbothered. "Just come to take what's mine" Matt sneered, daring to take a step closer, Bucky tightened his hold around your waist as he felt you shiver. "Oh, yeah, and what's that exactly, because I don't think you own anything in this house..." Matt scoffed at his response, there was something wild in his eyes, you just couldn't tell what it was.

"You know, I had a nice look around, Forrest, that the name of my son? You could have picked a better name Y/n really, and leaving him with the neighbours so you can fuck some random guy? You really are a whore" You tore away from Bucky's arms leaping forwards, slapping Matt so hard across the face your hand ached, you could see you had left an indentation on his cheek, the skin flared red and raised slightly. "You don't get to say his fucking name, get out" Matt held his cheek, shocked that you would dare to speak to him that way let alone lash out at him, you had been away from him too long. He lifted his hand up and cupped your cheek in his hand, softly which shocked you, Bucky took a step forwards but soon stopped when he saw you signal him to still. You looked into Matt's eyes, noticing how dead his eyes truly looked. "Come back to me please, I love you. You can leave the kid here and we'll go" It frightened you how fast it was for his emotions to change. You took his hand of your face and let it drop by his side, shaking your head.

"I will never be with you, ever again, you need to understand that Matt, you can't keep doing this, please just leave us alone" You spoke quietly to him, hoping he would hear you out. A sad laugh left his lips , shaking his head, "I'll get you one way or another, whether I have to take you fighting or dead, but I'm not gonna lose you Y/n, I don't lose..."

“You already have” you knew you’d regret those words the second they hit your brain but you couldn’t stop your mouth from saying them. You saw the way his nostrils flared and how he gritted his teeth, you could practically hear them grinding together in his mouth, he yanked on your wrist pulling you closer to him, Bucky stepping even closer ready to pull him away, “you’ll fucking regret that, I’m gonna make you wish that little brat was never born” You closed your eyes expecting to feel pain as Matt raised his hand, but as quickly as it was raised, it was gone, for Bucky had put himself in between the two of you, pushing you away gently with one arm while attacking with the other.

The sound of bones crushing, and blood splattering rung through your ears. The image of Matt having his face repeatedly slammed against your kitchen counter both terrified and elated you. Seeing Bucky in this feral state made your heart thump uncontrollably out of your chest. You called out for him to stop but the sound was lost to the deafening sound of Matt's cries. Through the commotion of the yelling and the sound of things smashing to the ground you missed the sound of Sam entering the house through the front door shield in hand. Sam ran over attempting to tear Bucky away, Bucky's face turning to horror once he saw what he had done. He stood over Matt's body watching his face swell and weep with blood, as he screwed himself into the foetal position on the floor, coughing and spluttering all over the tiles.

Blue and red flashing lights surround the kitchen as the promise of help fills the room. "You Okay man?" Sam asks nodding at Bucky, he stayed silent, giving a sharp tilt of his head, stretching out his fingers on his virbranium hand, wiping the blood off onto his shirt. You went to his side, stroking your hand down his chest hoping to gain his attention, his eyes met yours, but they were shallow, you touched his face softly, making sure his eyes stayed on you "You're okay, thank you for protecting me" He wrapped his arms around your shoulders pulling you flush against him, burrowing his head in the crook of your neck. "It's- (coughs) cap- Captain America" Matt spluttered out, a combination of drool and blood oozing from his mouth, he seemed delirious after taking several punches to the head. "Yeah, and you're in a whole lotta trouble" Sam scoffed, turning to open the front door as the police and paramedics came up the drive.

After being checked over and giving statements to the police, you couldn't help but smile at the sight of Matt being handcuffed in the back of an ambulance, with the promise from the police that not only breaking and entering, but breaking his restraining order and continued harassment should be enough to keep him behind bars, if not only for a while, you were free.

Yourself and Bucky were sitting on the couch in your living room, the both of you quiet, not knowing what to say to one another. You decided to make the first move, opting to face him on the sofa, sitting cross legged opposite from him. His head turned in query as to what you were doing, but soon turned to face you. "So, what a way to end a first date..." you let the words linger, searing his face for any sign of amusement. A small smile lifted to his lips as your words sunk in, his head tilting towards you. "It was a date huh?" he smirked, eyes lighting up a tad more, losing the dullness that had reached them earlier. "We went for dinner, we laughed and you kissed me, then you saved me from Matt, I'd say that's a pretty successful date, wouldn't you?" You leaned forwards, brushing hand along the vibranium limb that sat along the back of the sofa. He laughed nodding. "So you had a good time up until the end?" he queries. "I had a great time, the entirety of it, no one has ever stood up for me the way you do, I'm really grateful...I just wish we hadn't been interrupted" You could feel yourself drawing closer to him, the magnetic buzz between you was back.

Bucky inched closer to you, his face mere centimetres from yours, his breath was warm across your face, he smelt like his cologne and a tint of dried blood, it was enough to send you into a frenzy. "What would you have wanted to happen if we were uninterrupted?" He bumped his nose against yours, tilting your head to the side, gliding his nose over neck, smelling your sweet scent, brushing his lips against your neck with feather light touches. "I'd let you do anything you wanted to me, you can take whatever you want" your breath was nothing more than a gasp as he kissed his way up your neck. "Careful, doll, I might actually do it" his breath fanned your face as he kissed around your cheeks, and jaw. He felt the way your fingers dug into the metal of his arm. "I want you to Bucky" in one swift movement he hauled you into his lap, his arms encasing your body, you squeaked as he lifted you, laying your hands on his broad shoulders feeling the muscles under his shirt. Smoothing over the soft fabric. His own hands wandered, feeling over the silk of your dress, slipping the fabric and bunching it up at your thighs, you gasped at the cool feeling of the metal hand digging into your flesh.

His lips delved in first, yours meeting in the meeting, melting together, melting together in a frantic fashion. His tongue brushed along your bottom lip, asking for access, you opened your mouth wider gladly receiving him. His tongue massaged its way into your mouth gliding along your own tongue. You gripped his shoulders a little tighter, his flesh hand gliding up the front of your body, in between the valley of your breast, settling around your neck. He kissed you as if he had kissed you a thousand times before. It felt natural. You started moving your hips against his, slowly and unintentional at first, but at first sound of your pleasure, Bucky soon started guiding your hips, working you back and forth loving the sounds of the soft mewls coming from your mouth. “Good girl, lie back for me”  

You settled back onto the sofa, leaning your head on the arm rest, Bucky settled between your legs, continuing to kiss and nip at your neck while you got yourself comfortable, you giggled as his stubble tickled the sensitive skin between your neck and collar bone, throwing your head back against the arm rest. “God, I want to hear that sound for the rest of my life” he muttered as he kissed his way down your chest, his hands massaging their way over your body, squeezing at your breasts, you moaned his name quietly urging him not to stop. “I could listen to that too” His vibranium hand pushed up the silk skirt of your dress until it was fully bunched up around your waist, exposing the most precious lacey white underwear he’s ever laid his eyes on. He nuzzled his head into your sternum holding onto your waist tightly, kissing your stomach, he noticed small scars the further he pushed your dress up, some obvious burn marks where Matt must have put out cigarettes on you, others small, jagged like the one on your face. He noticed the slight hesitation in your eyes as he kissed over your stomach. “You’re beautiful you know that” you nodded, eyes fluttering as he headed further down south.

“Tell me to stop at any time, I just want you to feel good okay” your eyes met and you watched as he settled between your thighs, placing each of them over his shoulders, you swore you had died and gone to heaven, the sight of the beautiful blue eyed man kissing the soft skin of your inner thighs, swearing only to make you feel good. His arms wrapped around your waist once more pulling you closer to him, the force making you let out a straggled moan. Bucky pressed a kiss to your covered pussy, a shiver running up your spine. He continued to kiss at the bundle of nerves through the lace of your underwear, your back arching upwards in pleasure.

Moving his vibranium hand down he slipped the material to the side, pressing a cool metal digit onto your clit, swirling in circles, you gasped, hips jutting forwards, his flesh hand around your waist, pinning you back down holding you in place. You watched him as he stared at your pussy, glistening with arousal for him, dripping down onto the sofa, he looked like a hunter waiting to dine on his prey, you only opened your legs a little further for him, encouraging him in. Not a second later he dived in.

Lips wrapping around your clit, sucking and kissing it with the perfect pressure, you weee sure your head would explode, he swirled his tongue around the pulsing nerve enjoying the whimpers and moans that escaped your lungs, he looked up while continuing his assault, watching the way your chest would rise and fall, how your head had fallen back on the arm rest, exposing your neck, breathing so heavily the vein stuck out on your neck. He reached up with his flesh hand, palming your left breast, your back arching into his touch.

He licked at the entrance of your cunt, sucking up some of the wetness that had dripped out, “Bucky” you moaned his name for the first time sending vibrations through his entire body, straight to his cock. “You like that doll?” You nodded letting out another staggered moan as he fucked his tongue into your hole. He could feel your walls clenching around his tongue, he withdrew the muscle only for you to sit up in protest, you whine at the loss of contact but soon that turns into a whine of pleasure when one of metal digits enters you instead. Your eyebrows furrow in pleasure, sitting up on your elbows so you could watch him better.

You saw the smirk on his face while he slowly entered you, seemingly rubbing all the right spots, the cool of the metal mixed with the searing heat of your walls creating a beautiful blend of warmth. “That feel better babydoll?” Your brain couldn’t comprehend words at this current moment, your back arching and head falling back onto the sofa arm once more. “I’ll take that as a yes” he spoke smugly, working his finger in and out, applying the perfect amount of pressure, lips reattaching to your clit.

You could feel a heat raising inside you, one that you had never reached with another person before. You tangled your fingers through his hair, tugging him impossibly closer to your heat. You were panting, hips rutting into his face, you were sure you’d never felt this level of pleasure in your life. He soon found your g spot, softly nudging it over and over again, earning himself a lewd moan of his name, he could feel your walls clenching and spasms around his finger, he knew you were close, looking up loving the sight before his eyes. Sweat kissing your skin, mouth ajar with gasps and moans, chest raised to the sky. You were right there. “Be a good girl y/n, I want you to cum”

He spoke into your cunt and you fell apart. A scream making its way from your lungs while you writhed. He sucked and lapped up all the juices as they dripped from your pussy, sucking you dry, your body shaked and you felt yourself going limp. Bucky lifted himself up settling above you, leaning down to press a kiss to your lips, you involuntarily moaned at the taste of your essence on his lips. He pulled back smiling like a Cheshire Cat. “Did you enjoy that” with your legs still trembling beside his hips and a blissed out look on your face, it should have been telling enough. “You have no idea, no one has ever made me feel that good before, you sergeant James Barnes may have just ruined masterbating for me for life” you sighed, throwing your head back dramatically. He laughed , leaning forwards to press another kiss to your lips. He settled down after a moment, laying his head on your chest, listening to the thrum of your heart, while your fingers combed through his hair. You can’t remember a time that you felt so at home and relaxed while not with your son.

The two of you laid there most the night, talking away, sharing the odd kiss, and eventually falling asleep in the same position, only waking when the first sight of sunlight streamed through the living room curtains. The sight of the man still sleeping soundly, on your chest with his arms wrapped snuggly around you, you felt complete and safe, for the first time in a long time.

Tag list:

@unaxv @mrsnikstan @ilovetaquitosmmmm @scott-loki-barnes @lilyyxoii @cakesandtom @senjoritanana @meganwritesfanfics @onceithough @floralwsloki

[zeezelweazel]

Could you write a smut story where r makes Leah squirt for the first time?

I think you are the only one that will do it justice. Just Leah being confused as to why she's feeling it so intensely and after being slightly embarrassed while r is obsessed w having made her squirt.

If not that's completely fine I just love the way you write. <333

Leah Williamson| Achievement|

______________________________________

I'm so honoured omg I hope I did this justice. This isn't really proof read so I hope there aren't any mistakes (special thanks to the anon that pointed out a mistake)

(It's hinted that reader plays for Man City but that doesn't affect the story whatsoever)

TW: strap on sex, oral, squirting (duh), edging, vibrators

____________________________________________________

Leah has been tormented the whole day.

It started in the morning when you woke up with the blonde still naked next to you, that you decided to wake her up by running your fingers through her slick folds. Leah was awake in an instant, her groggy voice already begging for you. You didn't plan to leave her hanging, you really didn't, but as soon as you started moving your fingers your phone rung and a very angry Alex Greenwood reminded you that training started 30 minutes ago.

Leah was left needy and very grumpy, crossing her arms over her chest and pouting like a child, only huffing in response after you kissed her goodbye. Training was alright, even if your skipper made you do three extra laps, but by the time you were home you were exhausted. Leah was still as horny as ever but she waited for you to come home and take care of her.

The moment you opened the door she was on you, placing messy kisses on your neck and jaw but she only received an apologetic smile as you told her that you'll head to bed after a quick shower. Leah knew better, so she didn't argue but you could tell she was frustrated.

When you hopped in the shower Leah sneaked into your special drawer and picked out a bullet vibrator that you guys have yet to use. Then she proped herself up on the bed and took her shorts and underwear off. She bit her lip when the lacy fabric stuck to her wet folds. She fumbled with the vibrator trying to find the button that turns it on. The moment the toy sparked to life Leah immediately put it over her throbbing clit and threw her head back with a loud moan.

Her moans were bouncing off the walls and unknowingly to your lover, you could very well hear the commotion from where you were standing in the hallway, with your hair dripping and your body covered in a towel. You entered the bedroom with a smirk and Leah looked at you, shocked eyes pooling with pleasure begging you to help her. Her hand stilled in between her parted legs, your eyes immediately being drawn to the wetness smeared on the inside of her thighs. Her pussy was greedily milking all the vibrations from the toy and you had to really fight with your urges not to pounce on her. You completely ignore Leah and all of her whines as you get ready for bed. Before you slip under the covers, right next to Leah, you manage to get a glimpse of the vibrator she's using. Your poor Leah, she's completely forgotten that the toy she's using can be controlled with an app that you have on your phone.

You let Leah work herself up, relishing in the way she was moaning your name, rolling on her side to be as close to you as possible. Then when you noticed how her voice became shaky and strained you opend the app and turned off the vibrator.

"Wha- no! What the fuck! How did it-"

Leah turned on her stomach screaming in frustration with her head buried in the pillow. She stayed there panting, thighs still twitching and shaking when you finally decided to give in. You chucked as you placed your phone on the bedside table and moved to run your fingers through Leah's blonde hair, cooing softly when she looked up at you with teary eyes.

"You want my help baby?"

Leah nodded her head quickly, laying on her back again and spreading her legs wide so you can move in between.

"Please- I need you. Your fingers, your mouth, anything!" Leah croaked out desperately. Your eyes run down her body and you contemplated dragging this out but in the end you couldn't fight the lust. You grabbed her thighs and immediately pushed your tongue against her dripping cunt. Leah moaned, high and loud as you continued moving your tongue. The taste of her on your tongue and the softness of her milky thighs on your hands was driving you crazy. You moaned against her core and the vibrations from your voice send a spark up her spine, her back arching off the bed.

"Trust me baby, I'll make you feel good."

"God, please! I'm close, don't stop!" Her hands had a tight grip on your hair as you kept building up her pleasure. Right before Leah was about to come an idea sparked on your head. Abruptly you pulled away from her throbbing heat. Leah sobbed in desperation when you backed off, her thighs were clenching as she brought down one of her own hands to finish the job. You grabbed her wrist to stop her, quietly shushing her when she fought your grip.

She reluctantly let you go and watched your every move as you went to grab the biggest strap you owned. Leah gulped and positioned herself comfortably on the pillows while waiting for you to come back to the bed. You didn't bother climbing up the bed, instead you reached for Leah's ankles and without a warning you dragged her down so her hips were on the bed while her legs were dangling on the edge of the bed.

Leah gasped when you grabbed her legs and pushed them all the way back so that her knees were almost by her ears. She blushed at how wet and exposed she felt, whining pathetically when she saw your eyes locked on her pussy. You lined up with her entrance and started pounding into her, setting up a brutal pace. The strap was hitting all the good spots and filling her up so good and Leah's hands fumbled with the bed sheets, desperate to hold on to something while she moaned and panted. Her voice was getting sore and her legs started to shake and you knew she was close. You brought your hand down to her clit and rubbed the sensitive bud. Leah almost screamed in pleasure as she came, transparent liquid gushing out and drenching the bed and the strap while her thighs shook. Leah's eyes shot open as she moved up on her elbows, watching with wide eyes while more of the liquid dripped out of her. Your hips were stilled in shock and Leah was flsuhed red in embarrassment. It almost felt like she just wet the bed.

"Fuck I... I'm sorry, I don't-"

Leah was interrupted when you pulled her in for a bruising kiss. Leah whined in your mouth when you rolled your hips, feeling your smirk before you pulled back. You run your hands up and down her sides, looking at her with an expression of admiration and bewilderment.

"Damn baby, I didn't know you could squirt."

Leah laughed nervously, still a little embarrassed from the prior events.

"Well neither did I."

You hummed and continued stroking her sides before grinning and pushing her down on the bed again. You leaned down and kissed the spot just below her ear before whispering.

"Let's see if I can make you do it again."

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[conflictofthemind]

I can't answer a lot of asks I'm getting about my / your opinions on this leak because y'all are putting the leak right in the ask itself and I don't want to jumpscare anyone with possibly series defining spoilers!

However my opinion and analysis is as follows!

I agree that this makes whatever they're doing with the WillElMike love triangle messy as all hell. This is going to require some heavy lifting on the writing to not give off the impression that Will is, as so astutely put, "sloppy seconds". It changes the game a bit on my opinions of Mike's sexuality. I'm neither a gay or bi Mike truther because both interpretations feel equally valid to me. But now as to not invoke the previously mentioned trope, I think they'll have to explicitly make him gay and frame his relationship to El as comphet and a possessiveness resulting from trauma.

If I disregard the handling of the romantic aspects though, my possibly controversial opinion is that this ending makes total sense to the themes of the show. Some of the show's main themes are about childhood, nostalgia, and growing up. That's also what Spielberg was trying to do with ET.

ET is based on an imaginary friend he created as a child to shield himself from the trauma of his parent's divorce. EL magically appears to Mike to provide hope and shield him from the trauma of his best friend's disappearance (and his looming feelings for him).

Mike can't let go of her because then he'd actually have to face his trauma, his grief, his fears, his queerness. She's been his safety net for seasons and she's fought his battles for him. He finally starts to feel like something's wrong in Season 4. Mike becomes a very inactive character throughout this all and then having to rely later on Lucas and Will to help fix his growing relationship issues, so he can continue relying on her. All of it completely antithetical to him being a leader and you can see the degradation of character that has happened. Leaders don't rely on people, they are the reliable ones.

Not to mention Hopper's grief and experience with Sara never being something he could get over, and still isn't over to this day. He is controlling over El in Season 3 because of his helplessness over Sara. He's barely healed the wound - just put a bandage over it with the introduction of another daughter that he can use to ignore his grief. In accepting El's death (or departure), he accepts Sara's and finally moves on. Is it sad? Yes. Is it a lot more relatable to an audience of people who have lost loved ones and never gotten the chance to have a figurative replacement show up at their door and heal the wound for them? Yes. But through it all he has still found love and a family.

For a brief segue into Max, she's never really relied on El. You can see the contrast where Max directly opposes Hop/Mike and encourages El to make her own decisions. Max is more of a mentor figure to El. She's strong on her own right. It would be devastating to her regardless but has a lot less to do with her individual character arc.

I have thought this forever and have not been able to say it because of people who will accuse me of misogyny. As if I am not a lesbian feminist who runs a himejoshi (femslash) blog, almost exclusively stans female characters and has a vast majority female friend group but my opinions on El are just because she's a woman. But this is my honest to god interpretation of the work and if all fits what we are seeing plus the stated inspirations for the show?

[anonymous-dentist]

Or: Soulmates share their dreams every night and can communicate in them, but it's Spiderbit

For day three of @smallchaoscryptid's Spiderbit Week - Soulmates

-

Dream One: How to Train Your Dragon

He blinks awake and finds himself far from the battlefield. His clothes are dry and not muddy, his skin is clean, his teeth feel dull in his mouth.

He's in a strange room: fireplace, stiff bed beneath him(but, really, any kind of bed is better than what he's had since the War started.) The smell of cooked fish.

He grimaces. He likes cooked flesh better, thanks.

This is a dream. He knows it's a dream, so he doesn't hesitate in hopping out of bed and stretching. There isn't a burn in his muscles, and the dull ache of his growing bones is finally gone. Heck yeah.

It's peaceful, in a way. Weird, but peaceful. Really disconcerting, but peaceful.

And then a monster screeches outside loud enough to shake the windowpanes.

He instinctively reaches for his sword, realizes that, right, dream. Of course he wouldn't have his sword in his dreams, that would be stupid.

He runs outside, anyway, because duh. If there's a monster, he wants to see it!

He sees the dragon first: large and yellow and missing one of its legs. It growls at him with a weird dragony smile, and he smiles back.

He sees the child second: short with messy hair and freckles. He gasps when he sees him and runs at him with a gap-toothed smile.

"Hi!" he chirps. He's speaking Portuguese, but that isn't what his mouth is saying. Dream stuff, huh, must be translating everything.

Neat.

"You're my soulmate, right?" the boy asks. He looks him over appraisingly. "You aren't that much older than me."

He scoffs, crosses his arms. "I'm literally so much older than you."

"Yeah? Well, how old are you, then?"

He blinks, throat dry. "I'm-" (He can't remember. But Bad always says that he looks to be about 13, so...) "-13. So I'm way older than you."

The boy puffs his chest out annoyedly. "Only by a few years. Screw you!"

The dragon flies off, bored. He would care more if there wasn't an annoying little kid in front of him pissing him off.

He takes an angry step forward, arms falling to his sides and hands balling into fists. He might not have his sword, but he can still beat up a kid easy.

"Screw you!" he shouts. "Get out of my dream! I wanna go hang out with the dragons."

"It's our dream, idiot," the kid huffs. "We're soulmates, duh. My grandpa says that everyone shares dreams with their soulmates, so we're obviously soulmates."

"What the fuck is a soulmate?"

The kid gasps, all anger pouring out of his tiny little body. "You don't know what a soulmate is?"

He doesn't know what his own name is, but he isn't exactly gonna tell some kid that.

He turns to leave and go find the dragon, but he's stopped by both of the kid's tiny hands grabbing his sleeve and pulling at him until he stays.

He turns to look at the kid, and the kid smiles and explains.

-

"Soulmates are, well, soulmates, okay? They're like super best friends, that's what my grandpa says. His soulmate is dead, but they still hang out in his dreams because that's where your soulmate lives until you find them. And after you find them, too, I think, but I dunno. He says he never met his soulmate before they died, but I think he's lying 'cause he's really silly sometimes."

"Okay, but. Us? You and me? You're a kid."

"You're a kid, too, you know."

"Nuh-uh. I'm a soldier."

"A kid soldier. But, anyway, we're soulmates! When we meet in the real world, we're gonna be best friends, I can tell!"

"Yeah? Well, don't be too sure. I don't do friends."

"Wow, you're emo."

"What the fuck did you just say to me?!"

-

Dream Thirty-Two: Cyberpunk

He laughs as he chases the kid through the slimy, neon-ridden back alleys of the city. He's on a motorcycle, because of course he is, but the kid is on foot.

"Just give up already!" he shouts.

The kid flips him off over his shoulder, grinning widely. He keeps tripping over his own shoelaces, because he's running like an idiot, but he's somehow still faster than the motorcycle.

He doesn't know the kid's name because the kid decided it wouldn't be fair to have a name when he doesn't know his own. Sweet kid. Shame he's annoying.

"Fuck you!" the kid replies. He then proceeds to trip over the cuff of his pants and fall right onto his face in a muddy puddle.

He cackles triumphantly and slows the bike to a stop. He hops off it and goes to poke at the kid until he gives up, but... but he's crying. Quietly, he's crying quietly, but his shoulders are shaking, and, oh, right, he's a child. He's the younger one.

His face falls. He kneels next to the kid and helps him sit up with a frown.

"Are you okay?" he asks.

The kid's lip wobbles, and his eyes shine, but he nods. "It's just a dream. It doesn't really hurt."

He isn't convinced, but, well. It is a dream. Nothing matters in a dream, right?

"Okay," he hesitantly says. "Come on, let's go play laser tag or something."

The kid's eyes light up. "Cool! I'm gonna kick your ass!"

"Oh, really?" he challenges. "You're on!"

And they run off, motorcycle forgotten.

-

"How did you beat me!?"

"I'm just a God Gamer, dude. Get on my level."

"You are so annoying."

-

Dream Seven Hundred and Fifty-Two: High School

"I think I'm going to give myself a name," he announces.

The kid's eyes widen. "Really? Took you long enough."

He rolls his eyes, but the kid isn't wrong. They've been meeting in their dreams for, what, two years? And they still don't have anything to call each other but "idiot" and "you" and "asshole".

But, well, it's about time, he thinks. The War is ending soon, he thinks. Bad says so, at least, and he's pretty good with knowing when things end.

With the War ending, he's going to have to go out into the "real world"... if he doesn't manage to follow Bad where he goes next. But where's the fun in that?

He shrugs. "I need a name. If I don't have one, I can't join the army."

"Why do you wanna join the army?"

"So I can keep killing people, duh. How else am I supposed to get food?"

"Uh, the store?"

"What's that?"

The kid rolls his eyes and pushes his shoulder. "You're literally stupid, what the heck?"

They're in some kind of food line, he thinks. They shuffle forward as the faceless teenagers in front of them get their trays and continue through the line.

He picks up his own tray and wrinkles his nose at the food he sincerely hopes isn't about to be placed on it. Where's the meat?

"What kind of name do you want?" the kid asks.

He's hit some kind of growth spurt, because he's finally up to his shoulder. Still short, though. Loser.

"Dunno," he responds. "I'll think of something later, probably."

-

"What about... Peter?"

"No."

"Miles."

"No."

"Miguel."

"No."

"Ben."

"No."

"You suck!"

-

Dream One Thousand and Ninety-Five: Mermaids

"Call me Cell," he says.

The kid- not quite a kid anymore, much closer to Cell's age when the soulmate dreams started- cocks his head curiously.

"Like, as in a cell phone?" he asks.

Cell grins as shark-like as the tail he's currently sporting.

"Exactly," he says.

The kid's eyes narrow. "Or, like in a prison cell. Did you kill someone again?"

"...Maybe, but-"

"Oh my God, how are we supposed to meet each other if you're in jail!"

The kid swims around in a frustrated circle around Cell, who just watches him, placid. Calm. Totally cool, definitely not at all sheepish over pissing his soulmate off.

That would be ridiculous.

Cell doesn't get sheepish, and he definitely doesn't feel regret. Not over some kid.

...Some kid who's his soulmate. They're best friends already, though, so he should be fine with Cell being stuck in prison for a bit.

Cell rolls his eyes and reaches out and grabs the kid and stops him from swimming. He looks him in the eyes, and he smiles, softer than intended. (He's Cell! He isn't soft. He's a killer!)

"Calm down," he drawls. "I'll be out of here before you know it."

"Really?" the kid asks. "Is your sentence that short?"

"Nah, I'm gonna break out."

He lets the kid go and starts swimming off in a random direction, not waiting for the kid to follow. (He does.)

"Must be a shitty prison, then," the kid comments.

"Trust me, I'll be out soon, and then I can try getting up to Mexico again to see you."

"Then I can teach you how to drive."

Cell flicks his tail at him annoyedly. "Shut up, I can already drive."

"No way."

"Yes way!"

They continue bickering and chasing each other through the coral until Cell feels consciousness tickling at him.

"Hey," he asks, "I told you my name. You tell me yours."

The kid smiles, and he does.

-

"My name is Roier."

"And my name is Cell."

"You already told me that, idiot."

"Oh, yeah."

-

Dream One Thousand, Eight Hundred, and Twenty-Seven: 1920s Mafia

Even in his dreams, he's dying. He's in a pool of his own blood with a couple dozen bullets plugged into his chest, but it doesn't hurt quite as much as the goddamn betrayal burning his skin from the inside out.

If he dies in the dream, he wakes up. Cell knows this, so he's more than a little annoyed about the whole dying thing. At least in his dreams, dying doesn't hurt.

The cops that killed him have already long gone. They may not have had faces, but Cell knows precisely who they looked like. All four of them were traitors, all four of them!

"Bastards," he spits. He groans as the movement of his tongue alone sets off flares of imaginary pain (because he can't feel pain in dreams, but he sure can imagine what it feels like) all throughout his body.

In the real world, he's starving to death in a cave. In the dream world, he's choking on his own blood.

Great.

His eyes slip closed, and he waits to wake up.

He doesn't react as a pair of heels click towards him.

"Cell?" Roier asks, but his voice is just the slightest bit off. But, then again, he is a teenager now. His voice is going to be doing all sorts of weird shit. "Oh my God, Cell! What the- hold on!"

Cell gasps as he's rolled onto his back. His eyes flutter open, and he sees... a girl? A girl in a really bad wig. With even worse makeup.

"Roier?" he mumbles. "What are you wearing?"

Roier looks down at himself- red sparkly dress and all- and blushes slightly. "I'm... trying something out. But what happened? You showed up in the dream and you ran off and I heard gunshots and you're so stupid, what the fuck?!"

He grits his teeth and smacks Cell lightly on the shoulder. But that's still enough to wrack Cell's body with pain.

"I'm sorry," he wheezes, eyes squinting closed once more. "I'm dying."

"It's a dream, Cell. I'm just pissed you're leaving this early. You just got here!"

"No, Roier. I'm dying. In the real world."

Roier goes quiet.

Cell swallows the blood in his throat and continues, "Pac and Mike and... and Guaxinim. They betrayed me. Left me on an island. I'm dying."

"You can't be," Roier faintly says. "We haven't met yet."

"Didn't your grandfather say he sees his soulmate in his dreams? We'll be fine."

"My grandpa is also senile. Cell, I- you're so stupid."

Something wet falls onto Cell's cheek, but it isn't rain. It never rains in dreams. It's always sunny.

Fuck. He made Roier cry. Maybe is a monster after all, and not in the good way.

The dream world starts dissolving, starting with Cell's fingertips. It... tingles.

Why can't real death be as soft?

-

"You better live, or... or I'll never talk to you again!"

"I... I'll try. Roier, I'll try."

-

Dream Two Thousand, Five Hundred, and Fifty-Five: My Little Pony

Tonight, he's a horse.

Why not.

It's his first dream in, what, two weeks? He hasn't slept long enough to dream. It's hard to sleep when all he sees until the dreams kick in is his own mistakes.

But, well. Cell turned 20 today (he thinks, he's still not sure about his actual age), and Felps got him drunk to celebrate. Drunk means sleepy, and sleepy means dreams, and dreams mean-

"Roier!" he calls, running through the streets of the pony town desperately. "I made it!"

Roier knows that he's been having trouble sleeping since his whole moral dilemma thing started after Alcatraz. He doesn't quite get it, but he's trying, and that's all that matters, right?

None of the faceless ponies pay Cell any attention as he goes, but that's fine. Fuck them. He promised his best friend that they'd see each other, and they're going to see each other.

He doesn't have to look too far, thankfully, because, a few moments in, a blazing red blur bolts out of the sky and tackles Cell to the ground.

"Happy birthday!" Roier exclaims.

He grins, wings flaring behind him. What's this called, a pegasus?

Roier's eyes widen, and his jaw drops in shock. "What the fuck, you're a unicorn? Lucky!"

Cell tries looking at his own horn, going so far as to go cross-eyed, but all he manages to do is make himself look goofy.

It makes Roier laugh, at least. That's good. He's been having... a rough time, Cell thinks. He's been quieter when they have been able to meet up. Something about his brother leaving to go to college: a child prodigy gone to an exclusive university and leaving his twin behind.

Cell can't imagine what it would be like to have a twin. Weird, right? Someone that looks just like him but is different? Yeah, no thanks.

(He gave up on any ideas of family a long time ago. Thinking about whoever he had before the War just makes him sad.)

"You're red," Cell intelligently says.

"And you're green. You look like shit."

Cell bites Roier's ear and smiles as Roier lets out an exaggerated scream.

"Missed you," Cell says, and he means it.

"Yeah, well, I didn't miss you at all," Roier sniffs.

But Cell doesn't believe him at all.

-

"I still can't believe your brother's name is Doied."

"Our parents weren't very original."

"Maybe you should do what I did and just pick a name."

"Fuck you, man, I like my name!"

"Lucky. I wish I could change mine. It's too... heavy."

"I mean, you already did it once. Just do it again."

"...You're right."

"I usually am."

-

Dream Four Thousand, Seven Hundred, and Forty-Eight: Medieval

Cellbit hasn't seen Roier for days, and he's maybe starting to freak out. Maybe. Just a little.

Just before he'd disappeared, Roier had mentioned winning some kind of lottery. He was excited, and Cellbit was excited for him. He'd been looking for his asshole twin brother for years, he deserved a break.

But then the break happened.

And Roier hasn't slept since, apparently.

But Cellbit sleeps every night, anyway, even if he'd much rather be spending his nights trying to figure out where the fuck his soulmate went. Because Roier's... Roier is his soulmate. They've been sharing dreams for thirteen years now, they're best friends, and Cellbit is dying without him.

Tonight's dream has Cellbit in a knight's costume drinking flavorless alcohol in a bar. Nothing has tasted right since Roier has disappeared.

He isn't dead, at least. If he was dead, then he would be in the dreams. So he's just... not sleeping. Somewhere. Somewhere not sleeping.

Cellbit's hand shakes with rage and fear as he raises his cup to his lips.

He isn't a killer anymore. Well, he is, but he only kills animals now. He's a butcher, but not in the serial killer way. In the... in the butcher way.

(His hands itch for more blood, but he's been trying to do better.

He can't meet Roier if he's in prison, after all.)

It's as he's drinking that the bar's door slams open and stumbling in comes Roier in fancy robes with a gold crown perched on top of his head.

Cellbit drops his cup and immediately gets off of his stool to rush to Roier's side.

"Roier, what the fuck?" he demands. "Where have you been?"

He pulls Roier into a tight hug, mindful of his armor.

God, is he crying? How embarrassing, but Roier's seen worse from him.

But:

"I'm sorry, who are you?" Roier asks.

And Cellbit's heart drops.

Roier wriggles free and looks Cellbit over. This... this can't be Roier, can it? Because there's no recognition in his eyes as he looks at Cellbit, and no slight blush as Cellbit looks at him.

Roier gasps. "Oh, wow. Are you my soulmate?"

Cellbit's eyes sting. "I- yes, Roier, are you alright?"

"I'm fine. Kinda annoyed that you took so long, though."

Roier smacks Cellbit's shoulder.

Cellbit can't breathe.

"I'm 21, motherfucker!" Roier shouts. "What took you so long!"

"I've been here," Cellbit faintly says. "Roier, I've been here. What happened to you? You said you- you got invited to some island? And then you disappeared? What happened?"

Something sparks behind Roier's eyes, but it's gone as fast as it appears.

"I've been alone for years!" Roier exclaims. He groans and runs his hands through his hair, almost knocking the crown off his head. "God, what is Spreen going to think?"

"Spreen? Who's Spreen?"

And then Roier blushes, and he grins, and Cellbit feels sick to his goddamn stomach.

"Spreen is my best friend," Roier tells him, and Cellbit wants to kill.

-

"Where are you? In the real world?"

"On the island. Where are you? Maybe Osito Bimbo can bring you or something. We have train stations, there's gotta be special tickets for soulmates."

"I'm in Brazil. What island?"

"Quesadilla Island, of course."

-

Reality: Day One

Cellbit's head is killing him. Fucking... what happened? He can't... he can't remember...

"Cellbit, you doing okay?" Felps asks.

He seems fine, sitting on the ground and not at all caring about the literal shipwreck they're stuck in.

"Oh, sure, as Cellbit if he's doing okay," Mike scoffs. He's still not over the whole prison thing, but he'd been angry enough when hearing about Cellbit's soulmate being kidnapped to help kickstart the whole rescue mission.

What a good friend.

Pac rolls his eyes. "He's literally bleeding, Mike. Look at him!"

Oh, shit, is Cellbit bleeding?

He raises a hand to his head; it comes away bloody, oh.

At least it's stopped raining outside. Cellbit can't see much, trapped with the others in what might be some kind of office space just below-deck. But he can't hear the rain anymore, and he can't hear any thunder.

"I'm fine," he sighs. "I've had worse. We should-"

He's cut off by a shout from outside.

Pac's eyes widen comically. "This island is occupied?"

Apparently so, because in comes a whole stream of people through a single door inlaid in the far wall. Tall man in what has to be anime cosplay, slightly shorter man covered in... green goo? Woman in purple. Man in bucket hat. And...

Cellbit's eyes meet Roier's, and the world slots into place around them.

Cellbit stumbles up to the glass wall and presses his hands against it. So close...

Roier is much more hesitant to approach (he still hasn't found that Spreen guy yet, of course he's hesitant...), but he offers Cellbit a small, genuine smile.

(He's so much more handsome in person, what the fuck? When did this happen? He was shorter than Cellbit just a moment ago, he swears.)

"Finally," Cellbit breathes.

The crowd around them is drowned out by the sound of Roier's voice as he says, awed-sounding, "You actually came for me."

"Of course I did," Cellbit replies. He smiles. "We're soulmates, aren't we?"

Tears well up in Roier's eyes- happy tears, Cellbit knows him well enough to be able to tell the different by now.

And then the door opens.

[thewulf]

Pretty Girl || Aaron Hotchner

Summary: So, the request/idea is an Aaron Hotchner x F!Reader where the reader is actually a criminology or psychology professor and is good friends with Spencer... Read Rest Here

A/N: Loosely based on one of my favorite story lines because I sat here for an hour trying to come up with a good enough story that’d stump Reid and failed. Mosely Lane. Doesn't get fluffy until the end. Hope you enjoy!

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x Y/N

Word Count: 5.4k +

Dismissing the class for the weekend you sat back at your desk in the front of the auditorium strumming away at the keyboard. You heard the clapping before you saw him. Eyes crinkling a touch you smiled brilliantly at your longtime friend.

“Another excellent lecture Professor.” He grinned at you.

“Spencer!” You laughed shooting out of your seat hugging the tall lanky man tightly, “To what do I owe this visit to?” You asked after breaking apart from the hug.

His face shifted from one of joy to a downcast expression, “I wouldn’t be here if it wasn’t serious.” He sighed taking a seat on your desk, “We need some help.”

You nodded listening, “Go on.”

He looked down as if he was ashamed to ask for help. As if he should’ve been good enough to solve it. But nobody was perfect. Sometimes cases can get away from you. You’ve had it happen once when every decision you made was the wrong one. It was always awful when you realized you might’ve made a mistake that got somebody killed.

“Kids. They’re just kids.” His voice wobbled as he looked back up to you. You felt your heart clench at the voice crack, “Another child was found off the Potomac just north of here.”

Your cocked your eyebrow in curiosity, “A local case? How many children?” You asked quickly hopping from professor to profiler in your mind.

He drew a deep breath, “Ten.”

Your eyes widened, “Over how long?” That was a lot of murdered kids. Who in their sick minds could do something like that? You’d been around a lot of sick people in your years in criminology, but this was already coming to the top of the twisted pile. Killing kids was another level of sick you despised coming across.

“A year and a few months.”

Your eyes bugged even further, “Christ.”

He nodded solemnly tossing the case file down on your desk. He watched as you meticulously poured over everything the team had put together in two weeks. You hummed and hawed as you fingers ran across the pages. Reading everything.

“These poor babies.” You let out an equally defeated sigh looking at the pictures of the mutilated bodies of the innocent.

He hummed in agreement, “We can’t figure it out. Another girl just got abducted in the same way the last boy was. We just found his body. I’m missing something here. I can’t see it.” You looked up at him. He looked utterly defeated. Tired eyes gave way to the lack of sleep he’d been getting. Messy hair and wrinkled clothing also adored his figure.

“I’m in. Let’s go.” You shoved your laptop in your bag before closing the massive case file to read in the car.

He gave you a confused look, “Right now? Don’t you have to teach?”

You nodded, “I’ll cancel it. Let’s go. Time is ticking for the girl. First to the office.” Hurriedly, you stood next to him eyeing him to lead the way. He nodded seeing your seriousness, You followed him all the way back to Quantico after calling your Dean. It had some perks, being the Director of Criminology at Georgetown. It almost made you giggle it sounded so ludicrous.

You flashed your badge having consulted on a few cases for different departments of the FBI. Security let you through in a flash. You’d never worked with Spencer on an actual case of his. Hell, he’d normally figure it out before he’d ever dream of pulling an outsider into the team. But even he knew he was missing something. A puzzle piece he couldn’t seem to find. That’s when he thought of you. His longtime friend from postgrad. The two of you were ostracized early in your studies. You for being an incredibly intelligent female and him because he was a know it all. The two of you found each other and the rest was history. You stayed in academia while consulting on the side and Spencer went the FBI route. Luckily, you’d stayed in touch through all the years. You found it easy to love him as a friend once you knew how to deal with the boy genius.

“Team, this is Y/N. Y/N, the team.” Spence said quickly once he all but yanked you into the large conference room on the floor. Your eyes glossed over each of them quickly before falling to the one on the end. Tall, dark hair, dark eyes, and a smoldering look? Whew, he was just your type. He’d make you nervous. You didn’t see a ring on his finger as you scanned him from head to toe quickly.

You nodded bashfully. You could lecture hundreds of students but the eyes of six profilers right on you was rather intimidating, “Hello.” You nodded quickly walking over to the white board that listed intricate details of the case you hadn’t skimmed across in the file.

“Director of Criminology at Georgetown?” The handsome man stood next to you. A quick nod before turning your eyes back to the board.

“Yes, sir.” You cringed at your own voice sounding so unsure of herself. That wasn’t like you, not at all.

You noticed the hard stare turn to curiosity for a second before the stoic gaze returned, “Aaron Hotchner, BAU Unit Chief.”

Ahh, the infamous Hotchner. You had to admit it was almost fun putting faces to the names you’d heard from Spencer throughout all the years. At no time did he mention that Hotch was as striking as you’d found him to be. It never crossed your mind to find them online. It seemed too invasive on Spencer’s life but now you were second guessing that decision.

“Nice to meet you Agent Hotchner.”

He wasn’t being unfriendly, but he certainly wasn’t warm. You could tell he didn’t want you here but agreed out of necessity. They weren’t able to save the seven-year-old boy and Aaron was sure as hell not going to let the little eight-year-old girl meet the same fate because of pride. Even though it stung.

He didn’t reply though, only giving you a quick nod. He stood there rereading the same damn sentences he’d read over a thousand times over the last week.

“This is the order they were taken and killed?” You pointed to the wall seeing the boy-girl pattern curiously.

“Seven-year-old boy and then an eight-year-old girl every time. Over and over.” It sounded like the case had depleted him entirely. Haunted eyes scanned over each of the children’s faces. Helpless. All looking eerily similar too each other.

“And you all interviewed 21 suspects in northern Virginia.” You stated more than questioned as you looked up to the curious eyes. They were expecting you, but they weren’t expecting you.

The blonde woman nodded with a gentle look settling on her face, “All dead ends.”

“Can I read their case files?” You asked ready to spend the next few hours scouring over the notes. Maybe a fresh set of eyes could pick up on something they’d missed.

She nodded running out of the room to grab them. Spencer watched you before joining you at the table as you read through the entire file from where you left off in the car. You thanked JJ when she set another

“Y/N will stay here with Reid. The rest of us, we’re heading back out.” Spencer nodded reading what you were. Still not seeing anything. He watched as you scrunched your eyebrows and highlighted certain words on the page. Gray Honda. Black scooter. Pink bike. What were you onto? What did you see? He wracked his brain as you worked seamlessly between pages.

You read over the next potential suspect. He must’ve heard the small gasp escape from your lips. As he immediately urged you to go on by asking, “What is it?”

“The Darcy’s. We need to go back. There’s something here Spence.” Your finger held over a simple line in the interview. One that’d been glossed over. A seemingly useless detail in a sea of muddled mess of facts and fiction.

He shook his head not getting it continuing to urge on with his eyes, “He messed up. He slipped up and said gray.” You started reading from the transcript, “He said, ‘I took the car out for a spin at that time.’ And then JJ asked, ‘What kind of car to you drive Mr. Darcy?’ He responded, ‘A gray… shoot I mean black Honda Civic. Sold the gray one last year to a family member.’”

His head cocked, “A gray Honda Civic... oh, shit.” He dove into the papers finding exactly what you were looking for, “The interview with the witness who found the body. She spotted a gray Honda along her route.”

You nodded, “She thought it was odd because it was so early in the morning. Nobody is ever out.”

“We need to call Penelope.” Spencer gaped.

He pulled out his phone, “Garcia, who did David Darcy’s sell his car to last year?”

She hummed, “Well hello to you too! Give me a second boy genius.” You heard her typing away through the speaker phone, “Looks like it’s Mike Darcy. His brother.”

He looked at you with nothing but approval. He knew you were good at your job, but this was exceptional. You’d pieced it together so easily he was almost embarrassed he hadn’t caught that himself, “What do you have on him?” He asked. Again, silence with more typing before another really long silence and the faintest gasp.

“Garcia?” Spencer was finding it rather infuriating he was the one on the other side. He was the one who couldn’t seem to piece it all together. It wasn’t like him.

“He lost his entire family in a car accident two years ago. His wife and two children.”

He was shaking his head know all too well the aged of those two children, “An eight-year-old girl and a seven-year-old boy?”

“They don’t call you boy genius for nothing right?” Her laugh sounded strained but relieved. It wasn’t an easy life. Often times so much harder than you could ever dream of. The horror of humanity never ceased to amaze you in the worst ways imaginable.

“Thanks Penny. We gotta call Hotch.” Reid’s eyes were huge before as he dialed his boss’s number, “Hotch, you’re never going to believe this.” He walked off spouting off everything you’d just concluded. Letting out a huge sigh of relief, you listened to your friend off in the distance. It had to be the brother. That had to be the missing puzzle piece.

You felt somebody watching you as you cleaned the files up. You’d begged Spencer to let you go but he straight up refused. Hotch wanted to talk to you or some bullshit like that. You’d, very reluctantly, agreed.

“We looked for days.” His voice sounded harsher. A bit meaner than it did earlier. You turned to meet his eyes that looked how his voice sounded, unhappy with you.

“Just needed a fresh set of eyes was all.” His eyes didn’t change. His state only seemed to harden as he took you in.

“Thank you. She was found safe.” It sounded as if it was torturing him to give you the thanks.

You nodded quickly turning back around to clean the mess up, “Anytime.” He didn’t look bad by any means. Must’ve been a pretty easy arrest. You’d seen Spencer at his worst after unsub’s had been confronted. It was inevitable when you hunted the worst of humanity.

“We won’t be needing your services any longer.” Your heart both sped up and dropped a little at that statement. He didn’t like you. Plain and simple. Had you done something to piss him off? Upset him somehow? You ran through the events of the last few hours and came up miserably short. You’d just have to ask Spencer later.

Before you could respond though an older, almost more intimidating than him, woman walked into the room shaking her head, “That’s not what we agreed on Aaron.” She turned to smile at you, “Erin Strauss, BAU Section Chief.” She walked over to shake your hand eyeing you up. You’d were curious to what she was thinking as she approached you.

“I didn’t agree.” He all but mumbled out. That didn’t sound like the intimidating man that had just tried to put you in your place moments before.

“One vote matters more.” She turned to him. She must’ve given him a look you couldn’t see because he mumbled an agreement. It was surely a sight to be seen. Spencer would eat this one up later. Your longtime friend loved gossiping even though he’d never admit to it.

“That was impressive.” She kept sizing you up, profiling you. She wasn’t shy about doing it either. She’s the big boss and she knew it, used it.

“A new set of eyes can do wonders.” You’d downplay it, for Aaron’s sake. Not that he deserved any of your mercy at this point. He hadn’t exactly been the nicest too you.

She nodded quick, “Sure.” She didn’t have the time to go back and forth with you, “You teach close?”

“Yes I do. Georgetown.” You kept it short and sweet not bothering to elaborate with details she clearly didn’t care about.

A smile broke out on her face, “Dean Willow is a dear old friend of mine. I’ll give him a call. We may call in the future. That is if you want.”

She was giving you the option now, “I would like that. Real world examples are invaluable for my students.” You could’ve sworn you heard a scoff from over her shoulder.

She smiled though, “Wonderful. I’ll give him a call later. Nice to meet you Doctor?” She questioned trying to find out more about you.

You nodded giving her the confirmation you too were one, just like Reid. He wasn’t the only one with a PhD, “Nice to meet you as well Erin.”

She walked off quickly leaving you alone with Aaron. Instead of chatting with him you turned back to the table trying to finish what you’d started long ago, cleaning the damn table up.

“You have no right.” His voice was much louder, much closer now.

Heart hammering in your chest you had to be strategic here, “It was an offer.” Your voice was soft, too soft, and gentle for the moment. You hated confrontation this aggressively, it always seemed to get the best of you.

His lips pursed as he considered his words, “Stay out of the way.” Was all he said before walking out just like Aaron. Yikes. That couldn’t have gone worse.

You’d been called back for almost every local case and even a few further away ones that needed urgency on the clock. That’s where you’d seemed to thrive when the clock was ticking. It never seemed to get better with Aaron. He was cold with you. Never downright mean but brushing the line that he knew he couldn’t cross. Still, you’d never seemed to grow to dislike the man. Spencer let it slip that he felt like he let the entire team down when I came in and solved a case in hours.

You knew how finnicky pride could be. You knew just how dangerous that emotion could turn out to be. You’d let it get the better of you a few times. That was the difference between life and death though. The difference between bringing a family back together or giving them the worst news of their lives. So, you’d give Aaron a pass even if he didn’t really deserve it.

You’d also grown to adore his team. You’d made sure to ask Spencer time and time again to confirm that you weren’t overstepping but he shook it off each time telling you that he enjoyed having you on some of the cases. It brought him back to the fun they had in post-grad all those years ago. Naturally, you’d gravitated towards your friend during the cases you’d been asked to join. Aaron’s eyes always seemed to be glaring at you whenever you caught him. You had a sneaking suspicion you didn’t catch him nearly as often as you did.

Spencer would always just tell you that it was just Aaron. But it had been months now and he was still as ice cold as he was on day one. One by one you’d become close with each of the other members but never dreamed of approaching him. He’d let you know just how much he disliked you. You’d gotten the message loud and clear.

A call came through in the dead of night waking you from the light sleep you were in, always ready, “Hello?” You sounded groggy.

“Y/N. It’s Strauss. Another abduction. Fifteen-year-old girl this time.” She didn’t elaborate waiting for your response.

You sighed, “Why is it always children? I’ll be there in forty.”

Sleepily, you drove into Quantico. You were delighted to see you were the last on there, the team already at work. Yawning you slipped into the conference room greeted by a rather

“Y/N! You’re here. I was getting nervous.” Emily smiled patting your shoulder before moving over next to JJ.

Derek laughed, “Pretty boy was just about to call.”

You grinned looking over at Spence, “Sorry guys, the apartment is closer to Georgetown than it is here.” Your commute was just under an hour. Forty minutes if you pushed it.

“We’re just glad you’re here.” JJ chimed in patting the seat next to her, “We think we have a lead, come take a look.”

Hotch watched in awe as you moved to sit next to her. You’d seamlessly integrated yourself as a semi-permanent member of his team. They’d all seen you an integral member to specific types of cases. Cases that had time constraints. And unfortunately for you that seemed to be child abductions more often than not. Had he been too harsh on you? Was he doing it to protect his team that didn’t even need it? He had a sinking feeling he already knew the answers to those questions, and it wasn’t going to be what he wanted to hear.

He continued to watch as Rossi joked with you, Reid smiled far more often than he’d been used to, Derek already gave you the nickname ‘pretty girl’ to match Spencer’s own pretty boy. You brought ease and order to the team. You took the stress and siphoned it out of a situation. Even Aaron had to admit you were a hell of a profiler. He wasn’t blind either. He found you exceptionally beautiful. A detail Spencer conveniently left out.

He knew he might’ve already burnt that bridge with you though. He’d been nothing but an ass to you. You’d never snapped back though. Always taking everything in grace. You knew the pecking order and it wasn’t up to you to dismantle that or shake up the status quo.

Spencer noticed Hotch’s apprehension to his friend. Spence felt awful that his boss had yet to warm up to you. You were nothing but kind and incredibly good at your job. A combination that Hotch was usually a sucker for. Was his pride really that badly wounded?

He heard you let out a string of cuss words seeing the pictures of the last crime scene. Brutal. Absolute brutality. Whomever was doing this to children was beyond help.

“Jeeze Y/N, you kiss your boyfriend with that mouth?” Derek smirked laying it on thick. That comment brought Hotch right back into the present far too curious to hear what you had to say.

You threw your head back in laughter, “Hardly Derek. Between the teaching, directing and this. I don’t have the time to go meet anybody.”

Derek’s eyes flicked to Hotch’s so quickly even you didn’t catch it, “Who says you haven’t met him already?” Your eyes found his, a fiendish persona reveled in your bashfulness after tops of your cheeks turned a twinge pink.

You couldn’t let him win like that. Not with all those eyes listening in to the conversation intently, “In your wildest dreams Morgan.” A wink sent him into a fit of laughter. He too loved your ability to give and take. Knowing how to play along with him seamlessly.

Hotch coughed drawing all those curious eyes back to him, “Let’s get moving. Reid and JJ head back to police station and update the chief on the latest. Emily and Rossi go update the family. Morgan and Y/N you’re with me. Unsubs house.” You gave him a twisted look. You’d never been with him, and you’d certainly never been to an Unsubs residence while on a case. You were a profiler. A professor. Not a cop. Not comfortable with confrontation your heart was already picking up the pace just thinking about it.

“I don’t think this is a great idea sir…” You’d managed to mumble out once most of the team had cleared the room. You were sure your nervousness was full front, and center displayed across your facial features.

He cocked his head studying you again. Always studying you. Always on guard around you, “I think it is.”

You cursed under your breath almost embarrassed to admit it to him, “I’ve never done that before, going to an active scene.”

He shrugged loosening his gaze a smidge for the first in front of you, “First time for everything. You’ve been through the training in the last few months. You can do it.” He nodded eyeing the door but making sure your head was in it before he left. Last thing he needed was you not 100% ready and getting injured. He knew you were ready for it though. He’d had a daft curiously of how you’d handle that type of pressure.

The three of you sped to the crime scene. Morgan forced you to sit up front by diving into the truck and taking the entirely of the back seat up shooting you a sly grin before shutting the door. You felt the weight of the bulletproof vest

“Stay behind me, pretty girl. We’ll go room to room on the main level.” Derek spoke with conviction once the three of you made it to the front of the home. Your heart was hammering so hard you could hear the blood echoing in your ears. Focus. You could do this. Aaron believed you could.

Hotch nodded, “I’ll take upstairs. Listen to Morgan.” He ordered before nodding at Derek. All hell broke loose as you went room to room clearing. Before you heard the gunshots upstairs. Morgan rushed upstairs with you behind him. Hotch stood with his gun pointed at the now deceased unsub who had a shotgun in his own procession.

“The girl. Where is she?” You asked turning away from the blood spatter that laced the wall behind the body.

“Go, find her.” He barked turning away from the kill. You prayed that was something you never had to do.

You ran out downstairs searching. It wasn’t until you found the basement door that you flew down there. A strangled gasp came from your throat as you spotted the girl in the corner on a bloody mattress. You shuddered at the thought that it wasn’t only her blood coating that mattress.

“Hotch! Morgan! She’s down here!” You bellowed out dropping the gun immediately and softening your expression after witnessing the shaking, bound girl. She’d been beat up. Quite a few times by the look of differently faded bruises littered haphazardly around her hardly dressed body.

You unzipped your jacket clutching it in your hand. Putting your hands up you dropped down to your knees keeping a distance away letting her know you weren’t a threat. You put your hands up, “Hi sweetheart. My name is Y/N. I work for the FBI and we’re here to help you. Can I bring you this jacket to cover up?” You asked her in your most gentle voice. Like you were talking to the most helpless soul on the planet. She might’ve been at that very moment.

Aaron and Derek watched from the stairwell as you stood up walking over to her with slow small steps. Once you reached her you dropped down again, “Is it alright if I touch you? What hurts the worst sweetheart?”

She shook her head before breaking. Breaking down completely. The tears turned to ugly sobs. She reached out for you, and you grabbed her quickly. Pulling her right into your embrace. She fisted your shirt like her life depended on it unaware of the two men watching the scene unfold before them. They’d called for an ambulance and just had to wait. But you were there for her. He felt a light flutter in his stomach as he watched you caress her face and play with her hair. Whispering in her ear and hold her tight. You were a natural. Aaron could see it plain as day now.

Slowly her harsh wails turned to strained tears. Almost all her energy depleted as she leaned on you. You wrapped your jacket around her small frame to cover whatever decency she had left. The poor babies life was over as she knew it. Her life was going to be an uphill battle from this point going forward. Your heart shattered as you brought her back into your chest. Whispering those sweet reassurances to the utterly broken girl sitting in your lap.

Once the ambulance took her away Hotch turned towards you observing once more. Your usually chipper grin was downturned. It had affected you more than he had sensed. It was hard. Impossible sometimes. And this was a good outcome. An exceptional one even.

“Are you okay, Y/N?” He asked finally letting that guard down.

You nodded so softly he didn’t know if you truly meant it or not, “Yeah. I just… I’ve never done that. Spence always told me stories, but I guess… I don’t know.” You sighed at a loss for words.

He stepped forward placing a hand on your shoulder this time, “It’s okay. It’s difficult. We all know. But think of the good you’d done. You were there for her when she needed it most. We didn’t train you for that. You’re just a good person. Don’t let this job ever take that away from you.”

Your mouth almost dropped as listened to him. He was always a man of so few words this felt like an all on speech for you. So long was that hard gaze you grew to expect over the last few months and was replaced with something much softer and kinder. The look he gave him other agents. The ones he’s known and worked with for years. Maybe Spence was right, maybe he was warming up to you a bit.

Things had been going well. Another month had passed, and you’d been called on for few more cases. You’d refused pay simply because you came and went as you had time. You called it tunning up for your professorship.

Aaron had completely warmed up to you over that time. You were still terribly timid around him. Old habits died hard with you. But he was trying. Making small gestures when you were around. Getting you coffee, holding open the door for you, smiling a little bit more.

It wasn’t lost on the team. They’d seen the change even if you refused to. Spencer constantly bugged you about it once Morgan put a big in his ear. Planted a seed that bloomed in that beautiful brain of his.   

Aaron had a scowl on his face watching you and Spencer joke around in the conference room. Why weren’t you even remotely like that with him?

“You could just tell her instead of shooting daggers at Reid.” Derek clapped his bosses back cracking a smile at him.

“She doesn’t like me.” The scowl dropped as he turned towards his agent.

“So, you think. More intimidated by you than doesn’t like you. You were kind of an ass there for a while.” Derek egged his boss on. It wasn’t often he was able to get under his skin.

Aaron rolled his eyes, through gritted teeth he answered him, “I know Morgan.”

“Why were you anyway?” He asked, digging for more and more. The true king of gossip at Quantico.

He shrugged, “To protect you guys. She was an outsider. We didn’t know anything about her.”

Derek let out a laugh that even drew your attention away from Spencer and over to them. Giving them a sheepish wave, you looked away back to Spence quickly. Aaron’s hard eyes turned soft made you feel a certain type of way. He was back to being that handsome man you first laid eyes on. A man who seemed so far out of your league it was laughable.

“Whatever you want to tell yourself boss man. But we both know that’s not the case. It’s okay to have feelings after Haley. It’s been years Hotch.” Morgan squeezed his shoulders urging his friend on, “I’m going to go grab Reid. Go apologize and tell her how you feel. You might be surprised. Go be happy instead of being jealous.”

He mumbled something incoherent but didn’t stop him. Spencer gave Derek a knowing look. You waved him off turning back to the case you were reviewing. It wasn’t a moment later the same chair Spencer

“I’m sorry.” He spit it out certainly not afraid to beat around the bush with it.

Tilting your head to the side you asked, “What for?”

“Being an ass your first few months here.” Again, he was com

You were a bit stunned, “Oh, thanks. I’m happy to be here.”

“You are an exceptional profiler Y/N and an incredible asset to this team. You’ve got a heart of gold. You work with victims better than anybody I’ve seen. Do you know how heartwarming that is to witness? You’re a natural with it all. So, I’m sorry. I’m so happy to have you here.” He let out a breath after airing it out there.

Your heart rate sped up to that rapid rate that made you feel almost uncomfortable, “You mean it?”

“Every last word.” He looked at you expectantly. It could go either way. Either really good or horrifically bad.

You gave him your first genuine smile. One he’s seen come out for everybody else except for him. Until now, “Thank you Aaron. That was very kind.”

He nodded, “Of course. It’s the truth.” You could tell he wanted to say more but didn’t know how to.

You felt a weird surge of confidence brush over you, “For the record. I’ve really enjoyed working for you. With you. I’ve learned a lot.” You too wanted to say something more, but the words were impossible to think of.

The tension was thick. But Aaron decided to cut it. Throwing caution to the wind, “Since you technically don’t work here I don’t think what I’m going to say next is really crossing the line.” He breathed taking a second before gathering the courage he needed, “You are absolutely beautiful Y/N. Inside and out. You’ve been chipping away at my heart ever since you stepped into this world. You are exceptional. I like you. Way more than a boss should. Way more than a friend should.”

Your mouth did drop this time. That was everything you wanted to hear and exactly what you expected not to hear. He liked you? You’d thought back on the month and didn’t see the signs. It seemed so obvious once he spoke it so clearly.

You started giggling at the hilarity of it all.

“What?” He asked smiling, easing back in his chair feeling eased by the lightness of the room.

“I can profile everything but my own damn life.” You kept giggling only to be stopped when he grabbed your hands.

“You’re even prettier when you laugh like that.”

Your blush was mad by now, “Thank you Aaron.”

“Would you let me take you out sometime? On a date? A proper one. Where we get dressed really nice. I’ll take you to a fancy restaurant. All that jazz.”

You smiled even wider, “If that’s really what you want.”

Squeezing your hand as a confirmation he nodded, “Pretty girl, it’s all I want.” His grin was everything as you both sat there smiling at each other like two lovesick fools.

Permanent Taglist (Message me or comment below if you want to be added!): @loving-and-dreaming @kmc1989 @memeorydotcom @matisse556

Request Taglist: @evansflowers

[sophswritingthings]

explosive - hazel callahan 

pairing: hazel callahan x forfem!cheerleader!reader

warning(s): no warnings, actually! it’s just really fluffy <3 swearing, tho!

tropes: fluff, friends to lovers, sort of canon compliant, first kiss

summary: hazel’s had a crush on you forever. and it really comes to a boiling point when you and the girls go to tp and egg jeff's house. and when she, y'know, set offs a bomb.

a/n: was hazel knowing how to make a bomb hot…….. or was that just me?

word count: 1,144 words / 6,176 characters

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

hazel was watching you from afar; her eyes trailing up and down your figure. your cute, graphic tee to your lazy comfy sweatpants; which, she only knew your wore when you wanted to get messy. since, you only ever wore them during your art class. 

“hazel, your fucking staring her down,” pj glared at the girl beside her. “you're such a stalker.”

“I— i am not!” hazel hissed back, “I’m… gonna go work on that bomb now.”

meanwhile, you were sort of watching her too. the way her eyes creased together into somewhat of an angry look; but you didn’t think you'd ever seen hazel callahan truly angry. 

that was besides the point.

you thought she was adorable, to which, she was. 

and those thoughts were now dragging you toward jeff's car, where hazel was slipped under. her marked up convers were hanging out from the top of the car.

“hey, hazel.”

the car almost jerked up, and you heard a “fuck” from under the car. you couldn’t help but chuckle at the sight, though you did wonder if she was okay. 

“you okay, hazel? I didn’t mean to spook you. probably should have thought about that before I came up on someone under a car, huh?” you chuckle in response.

“I-it’s fine,” she says from under the car, her voice choked up. she was nervous, and her face was best red—glad that it was hidden under the body of the car. 

“you sure?” you cock your head, bending down to be sat on your knees. “that sounded kinda painful.”

hazel hums a little, “mm-hm!” in a response. she slides out from under the car for a moment. she wanted to see your beautiful face, even if hers was currently covered in soot and ash.

and even if it was beat red.

than a loud, shrill beep sounded from under the car.

“um, hazel, is that something we should be concerned about——“

out of instinct, she grasps your hand tight. she pulls herself to her feet, as well as you, and begins to charge for their “getaway” car. she slides into the backseat, pulling you in beside her.

after a few seconds, you feel her hand still clasped around yours. It made your heart beat a million miles a minute, her rough, coarse hands rubbing against yours. In comparison, yours were small and soft. holding a hand like hazel's felt…

… nice.

a few moments later, you feel those same hands covering your ears, pulling your head close to the crook of her neck. instead of covering her own ears, she covered yours, as if you didn’t have the hands to do so.

she was so cute. so thoughtful…

you two were, as of now, in the car alone. despite the damn bomb going off; the girls still hadn’t hopped back in the car, hadn’t driven away.

that left you alone with a hot girl you had a crush on. 

and you were pretty sure she liked you, too.

“so,” you gently nudge your knee against hazel’s. “how the hell do you know how to make a bomb?” you scoff, glancing at her with a playful expression.

“Its… not that hard,” she laughs, looking bashful as ever. “not like I’m some child genius.”

“still impressive,” you nudge your knee against her's again, causing her to look up at you, “learn that in robotics, or somethin’?”

she shrugs, “um, the mechanics of the it, sure,” hazel clears her throat. “rest online…”

“it’s.. it’s. yeah, it’s cool.” you smile softly. you gaze at her, maybe for a moment too long, your eyes locked together. “hazel… I… um—“

your words are cut off. 

the rest of the girls slide into the car. 

two more slide into the back, isabel and brittany. they pressed the two girls closer together, your thigh pressed gently against hazel’s. it made you blush, sure, but—it felt good. It felt… right.

you and hazel glance at each other, laughing softly. it’s a knowing laugh. you know what you were going to say; and you hoped you'd get the chance to finish it later. It was hazel's car that they were driving in, after all. they'd have to drop isabel and brittany off, drop pj off, let josie drive herself home than—

—it would be just you two.

twenty minutes of driving later and it’s just the two of you. you’ve moved into the drivers and passengers seat, the only sound between you two for a moment is the sound of the heater in hazel’s car rumbling to keep you warm in the cold weather.

“.. I have a feeling you knew what I was gonna say.. don’t you?” you chuckle, your cheeks bright red as you gaze out the windshield in front of you.

“.. I-I could guess,” hazel murmurs, her fingers tapping against the leather steering wheel. “because I kind wanted to say it, too.”

you pause. you had a feeling that it was reciprocated, but god to hear it out loud…

“well, than..” you whisper, “good to know.”

hazel chuckles, “yeah.. that’s pretty good to know.”

you laugh right back, realizing how stupid your words actually sounded.

you grab your purse as the car comes to a stop outside your large house. you open the passengers door, stepping outside the car.

and, unsurprisingly, hazel has followed you.

“so,” your eyes trail up her body, landing on her beautiful blue eyes. “could I say it’s pretty evident that i’d really like to kiss you right now?”

“you.. could say that.” hazel murmured, resting a hand on your cheek. she began to lean down, considering your height difference. her lips where inches from yours. “can I—“

before she gets to finish her question, you gently press your lips against hers. they’re warm; and taste almost like a hint of vanilla lipgloss. 

It was good. It was all so good. It felt like your insides were exploding, from the idea. your stomach squirming, your hands twitching on the back of hazel’s neck—which, you were sure she could feel.

when you pulled back, you took in a little gasp of air.

“a date, than?” you prompt, smiling. “how does tomorrow sound?”

“tomorrow?” her eyes light up at the thought. she didn’t think you’d wanna go on a date with her that soon. “sounds perfect. I—I’ll come and pick you up?”

“amazing,” you nod your head, giving her a smile and a wave over your shoulder as you walk toward your house. 

she watched as you slipped inside, leaning against her car with her arms folded. the idea that such an amazing girl would like… her? the loser masc lesbian is who nobody talked to?

the idea was foreign to her.

yet here you were, kissing her and asking her on a date. 

it was all so… amazing, to her.

she couldn’t wait. not one second.

[solargeist]

i keep mistaking some of ur kidxelqua art for ur grian art so i have to stop and read the captions/tags every time 😭😭 is there a fundamental difference im missing that would make it any easier

hi !!!!!!! no i understand it can be pretty confusing !! its pretty messy on my blog ahahah i'll try to explain them and their place in the AU

All the kid drawings are Xelqua ! Originally it was Grian, but as the character Xelqua developed, I changed it to him. When people send requests for kid Grian, i'm drawing Xelqua, as that is the AU.

This isn't 100% accurate as I forget to do it, but Grian and Xelqua part their hair differently, kid Xelqua does too. Xelqua's hair is always a bit longer. (Grian got a haircut when he joined the Watchers, thats why his hair parts different now in evoAU and HC, he just kept it shorter ! Xelqua used to wear his hair in a ponytail during his time with the Watchers.)

The reason why i say they're "technically the same" is bc Xelqua is just another Grian from a different timeline, he just has a different name. Xelqua only exists because this one Grian joined the Watchers, new possibilités opened new timelines, ones where he died, ones where he's a Listener instead, or ran away to different servers, or stayed. Xelqua is the only one to have reached Sainthood.

Because of this, Xelqua can hop around timelines, he usually just bugs other versions of himself, helping them, giving them tnt. He finds This Grian during s8 of HC, bugging him through the boatem void, briefly possessing him later, but hey ! water under the bridge !

Xelqua's timeline doesn't exist anymore after becoming That, but by becoming That he has essentially rewritten history in other timelines, solidifying himself as a saint of destruction, a destroyer, this is what the Watchers know him as, this is what evo Grian knew him as, even if Grian caused it--It already happened--Xelqua has always been here. (It makes Grian's head hurts when Xelqua explains this to him.)

Basically: Grian set off a chain reaction when he joined the Watchers, and that opened new universes, and in doing that, Xelqua is made.

Xelqua is powerful, but also very lonely and has a lot wrong with him, which is expected he spent many years with the Watchers. Xelqua can mimic any version of Grian he wants, but if he stays in that form for too long, he'll start to forget himself and instead think "Xelqua" is a patron, rather than himself. This is why kid Xelqua will usually praise the Saint Xelqua and be proud of his own name, he just doesn't know ! It takes a little while to remember himself and change back. This also happens in high stress, (bc of course it does, i love when a character loses control of their powers hahaha,) the memory is much worse if it happens from stress. You can't talk kid Xelqua out of this, it'll stress him out further and you'll just have a little god child throwing a temper tantrum then, never a good idea.

After s8 in HC EvoAU, Xelqua hangs around, popping up sometimes in s9, mostly in his adult watcher self. They don't get along too well at first, Xelqua has a little bit of bitterness over Grian having such a fun life, all these friends, needed, wanted..... But whatever ! Xisuma doesn't know how he keeps getting in, but Xelqua has been on good behaviour, so...... Shrug... Just let him visit sometimes....

Xelqua's version of the Watchers are gone, the unfortunate conséquences of becoming a destroyer, you kinda rip your own timeline apart. This, added with the fact that he is a cautionary tale in every other reality to Watchers, means if he tries to visit other versions of his Watcher family, they won't really know who he is, and just see something destructive and chaotic. If he wants to see Aether, he'll just... hop in a timeline and change himself into a kid and quickly forget what he's done. He's lonely, ok !!

Xelqua starts doing this kid bit on HC (late s9/early s10) too, he doesn't exactly mean to, but he does feel safe there. He eats Grian's food and takes over his couch and no one can get mad at him bc he is just a little kid--grian puts him in the corner. timeout. a few dead birds hit the roof as a result.

[rollinouttahere-writes]

platonic yandere shanks and child reader

Better Left Unsaid

Yandere Shanks x GN Child Reader

3k words

“Don’t.”

With one leg still thrown over the side of the ship, you whip around and glare at Yassop. You dropped your head onto the railing and groaned, “Come on! I won’t even leave the docks, please!”

Yassop looked up from the gun that he was polishing, shooting you a weary look, “You know the rules, kid.”

“The rules are stupid!”

“Take that up with Shanks if you think so,” he replied in a bored tone.

You give out the most exasperated sigh and hop down from the railing with a huff. The boards creaked under the impact, more so after you began stomping across the deck. Both of you knew full well that talking to Shanks would get you nowhere. He’s the captain and your dad, he isn’t about to take orders from you.

Using more force than probably necessary, you open and slam the door to the captain’s quarters. It doubled as your bedroom, too. That was fine when you were little, but now you wanted your own space. Every time you tried to tell him this, you would just get waved off and told there was no room. It was either his room or bunking with all the other guys, so you begrudgingly accepted your fate of staying where you were. At least he put up a curtain to give you a little privacy.

After flopping onto your bed, you screamed into your pillow at the top of your lungs while kicking your feet on the bed. This was so unfair!

All you wanted was to leave the damn ship on a populated island. The only times you ever got to set foot on solid land was if they stopped at an uninhabited island, but that wasn’t enough for you anymore. You wanted to see people that weren’t your family, see sights that you don’t usually get to see, and pick out your own damn clothes for once! Was that really so much to ask for?!

Violently, you flipped onto your back and scowled at the ceiling, clutching your screamed-in pillow to your chest.

This was all so frustrating, but you didn’t know how to fix it. Talking to your dad was pointless, he never listened to you when you were complaining. The crew was just as bad, they treated you like a baby. But they were all you had. Shanks didn’t let you see, much less talk, to anyone else.

What you needed was leverage. You needed something that would give you enough of an upperhand to get him to listen to you. In essence, you needed blackmail, and you were in the perfect place to find some.

You grinned maliciously as you sprung out of your bed and marched over to his side of the room. Surely there had to be something in here that would give you some dirt on him! You aren’t sure what exactly you’re looking for, but you figure you’ll know it when you see it.

First was the bed. You lifted up the mattress to peek under and see if anything was hidden underneath. Nothing.

Next was the bedside table. You opened all of the drawers one by one. While you did find some stuff, it wasn’t anything useful. Some old maps, pens, notebooks with nothing interesting in them, a mostly empty booze bottle. Nothing scandalous enough to get a leg over on him.

There was a clothes dresser, too. At first you hesitated. No one wants to risk seeing their dad’s underwear, but desperate times call for desperate measures. 

Pulling open the first drawer, you found a bunch of shirts haphazardly shoved into it. None of them were folded, and it looks like he filled this thing up blindfolded and under intense pressure. No wonder his clothes are so wrinkled. It was a bit of a struggle to close when you were done rifling through it due to how jam-packed it was. Part of a shirt was sticking out after you finally slammed it shut, but you couldn’t be bothered to care. It’s not like you were going to make it look any worse.

The next drawer was similar to the first in terms of how messy it was, but this time with pants. It’s no longer a mystery as to why he perpetually looks like he just rolled out of bed. Whatever, his unfortunate state of fashion is of no real concern to you.

As you dug through the mess of pants, your fingers made contact with something solid. You froze briefly but quickly snapped out of it and grabbed whatever it was you touched. It took a bit of effort, but you freed the object from its tangled up prison. It was a small box. With a lock on it.

Perfect!

This had to be it! If he cared enough to lock it up, then there must be something top secret in here! Giddily, you scurried back to your bed with your findings, not even bothering to kick the dresser shut. You were going to be confronting him with this anyways, no need to be secretive about it.

The box was tossed onto your bed while you dug through your own bedside table, looking for your lockpicking kit. Shanks was about to regret teaching you how to do that. 

You threw the kit next to the box and hopped on the bed. The lock was tiny and appeared to be uncomplicated, you’re betting you’ll have it open in under a minute. Grabbing your slimmest hook, you jammed it into the keyhole.

It unlocked instantly. Damn, you might have to make fun of your dad for using such a useless lock.

The lock was discarded and you opened the box. It was full of pieces of paper and photographs. Interesting. You pick up the first photo you see. It’s facing down, the back of it says ‘Uta - 2’. You flip it over, curious to see what that note on the back means.

It’s a picture of your dad when he was much younger, but that wasn’t what stuck out to you. What really caught your eye was the little girl he was holding. She was very young, and her hair was split down the middle with one side being white and the other red. Both of them were grinning from ear to ear. You can’t remember ever seeing your dad look that happy.

You look at the note again. ‘Uta - 2’. The girl looked to be about two years old, so that was probably her age. Was Uta her name? That made sense.

But who is she? 

No one has ever mentioned someone named Uta being on board. As far as you were aware, you were the only child that’s ever been with them. Maybe this picture was taken before Shanks became a pirate? No, wait, it can’t be that either. He’s never not been a part of a pirate crew.

You need more information. Setting the picture aside, you start pulling more stuff out of the box. There’s some sheet music. The handwriting is somewhat neat, but also big and exaggerated with more loops than necessary and hearts dotting the i’s. Like it was written by a child. On the bottom, the name Uta was signed in large cursive letters.

Another photo is taken out, Shanks isn’t in it, but Uta and other members of his crew are. Uta is standing on a box like some sort of a makeshift stage, and appears to be singing if you had to guess. The others were clapping and cheering her on. This was definitely taken a while ago. Benn’s hair hadn’t even turned gray yet. The back of it said ‘Uta - 5’.

The next picture once again has Uta in it. She’s sitting next to a little boy with black hair and a scar under his eye.

Why does your dad have so many pictures of some girl you’ve never even heard of? This definitely feels like a secret, but you’re so confused about what you’re finding that you can’t bring yourself to feel like this is really a victory for you. You need to dig deeper.

Once again, you reach for another photo, one with three people in it this time. You instantly recognize Shanks and Uta, who you don’t know is the seemingly newborn baby in Shanks’ arms. His expression is nothing but soft and adoring, while Uta’s is a combination of curious but excited.

How many damn kids has your dad taken in and proceeded to just never mention ever?!

You flip over the picture to figure out who this one is supposed to be, but freeze up when you read it.

‘(Y/N) - Just got here!’

That’s… you? You and Uta were here at the same time, but you’re just now finding out about her? What the hell is going on?

Frantically, you unceremoniously dump out the rest of the contents of the box. You’re desperate to find answers, anything that could explain why your dad has this top secret box dedicated to whoever this Uta girl is.

A picture that stands out to you is one of Uta helping the baby- you- stand. You’re a little older here, roughly a year old it would seem. A quick glance at the back confirms your guess as correct, and that Uta is seven. She’s six years older than you. Since you no longer have the squished face of a baby just welcomed into the world, your features are actually recognizable. This is definitely you and not just some other kid named (Y/N).

The mystery unraveling in front of you is so engrossing that you’re deaf to the world around you. That is, until the door to the room is thrown open. Your heart leaps into your throat. Oh shit! Why is he back so soon?! You scramble to quickly but quietly pile your findings back into their box.

“(Y/N), I got you something in-” Shanks voice falls flat and stops abruptly in the middle of the sentence. No, no, no! How does he know something is wrong already?!

You didn’t close the dresser.

Before you can even begin to think of what to do next, Shanks drops whatever he was holding and closes the distance between you two and rips the curtain to the side. All you can do is shrink in on yourself and gawk at his furious expression.

The second his eyes land on the box in your hands, he snatches it into his own. He stomps away and slams it onto the dresser while hastily rifling through it. He hasn’t said a damn thing to you since the realization of what you did. 

Damage control, you need to do damage control, and fast. You move to stand, and utter out a quiet, “Dad?”

“Sit. Down,” his tone was sharp and left zero room for argument. He’s never spoken to you so coldly, even during your worst arguments. 

 All you wanted was to have a chance to explore the town, and now look where that has gotten you. This was a stupid mistake. Shanks and his crew were all you had, and now you’ve made a huge problem of yourself. What would happen to you if he decided you weren’t worth the hassle anymore?

You couldn’t help it. Between all the previous confusion mixed with his harsh treatment broke the dam and tears started to pour down your face. You sniffle loudly while furiously wiping at your face, and force out, “I-I’m sorry.”

With your head being in your hands, and your eyes clouded with tears, you have no hope of being able to gauge his reaction. Or see if he even cares enough to pay you any mind. Probably not, not when he’s this mad at you. 

Your bed dips from the weight of Shanks sitting down next to you. Without hesitation, you latch onto him, burying your face in his coat while sobbing out apologies. Anything to make him stop being so upset with you. Much to your relief, his arm came around your back and held you to him.

“It’s… fine. I wish you wouldn’t have done that, but it’s nothing to cry about,” his voice was strained, but held the warmth that had been previously absent.

Even with that, you needed time to calm down. While your dad being annoyed with your attitude was hardly a new occurrence, him being genuinely upset was. Frankly, you didn’t know how to deal with this, and you were still terrified about how much damage your actions just did.

Shanks didn’t say anything else, instead choosing to sit in silence with you. You couldn’t decide if that made things better or worse. Actually, you could decide. The lack of words was absolutely worse, but you didn’t know what to say right now either.

“Yassop told me you tried to sneak off the ship. Again.”

Nevermind. You wish to go back to silence. All you did in response was bury your face deeper into his coat while mumbling a quick ‘sorry’ for your actions. You were going to dump out that snitch’s booze stash later. 

His chest heaved with the sigh he let out, and his hand came up to pat your head, “I know that you don’t like this, I understand that, but sometimes you have to do things you don’t like.” There was a pause, but when you didn’t respond, he continued, “It’s for your own good. The world is a dangerous place.”

“But… But you’re an emperor. You’re the Red Haired Shanks. What’s the worst that could happen if we just go for a walk in town?” As far as you’re concerned, there’s no threat that your dad can’t handle, not to mention the rest of his crew. Even if someone is stupid enough to try something, they’ll deal with it.

He chuckled, but it was humorless, empty, “Just because I’m an emperor doesn’t mean that bad things won’t still happen. That bad things haven’t already happened.”

“Where is Uta?”

Bringing her up was risky, you knew that, but you need answers. You need to get to the bottom of why Shanks is like this, and this is the closest you feel that you’ve ever come to finding out.

Shanks became rigid at the mention of her name. The hand on your head was now squeezing, bordering on painful from how tight it was. You tried to wiggle away but couldn’t break his hold. 

“She’s gone.”

“She died?!” While you didn’t know what to expect, it certainly wasn’t that.

“No!” Shanks' hand dropped down onto your shoulder and wrenched you away from him. His eyes were wide and wild, “She’s not dead!”

You visibly recoiled from him, you can’t remember a time you’ve ever heard him yell. Once again, you can feel your eyes start to water and your lip tremble. God, what you wouldn’t give for this whole interaction to just be over already. Or for it to have simply never happened in the first place.

His face fell, and he looked away from you with a grimace. Mercifully, his grip had relaxed a bit and no longer felt like a vice on you. “Uta is alive and well, she just isn’t here. Not anymore.”

“Why not? Where is she?” You had more questions with every answer he gave, this wasn’t making any sense. What could have happened to result in her not being here? He wouldn’t just… abandon her. Would he?

“Because I wasn’t able to protect her,” his voice was so quiet that if you were any further away from him you wouldn’t have heard him. “She needed to be left in someone else’s care for her own good. I wasn’t able to keep her safe, and that’s something that I will never let happen again. Not with you.”

“But what happened? I don’t understand,” you felt like you were simultaneously getting closer and also further from the truth. Nothing about this was making sense. There was a bigger story here, but he was seemingly hellbent on keeping his answers to you vague. 

“You don’t need to understand, you’re just a child. Do both of us a favor and forget about what you saw and what’s been said,” Shanks got to his feet, moving to leave not only the conversation, but also the room entirely.

You launched yourself off the bed and grabbed onto his arm, “Wait! You can’t just tell me to forget about this! I want answers!” You weren’t about to let him get out of this discussion so easily.

“Well, (Y/N), sometimes you don’t always get what you want. We’re done talking about this,” the way he spoke to you was slightly condescending. He turned to face you and crouched down to be at eye level, “How about you take a nap? Seems like you need one.”

You were getting on his nerves, that was a given, but you couldn’t up and let this go. Scoffing, you crossed your arms and glared at him, “I don’t need a nap, I’m not a baby.”

Shanks smiled, but it didn’t reach his eyes, “Could’ve fooled me with the way you’re acting today.”

As much as you wanted to yell and be mad about what he just said, your mind went blank. You felt dizzy and like you couldn’t remember how to control your body. A second later, you stumbled and crashed into Shanks who caught you with ease.

Haki. He used Haki on you. 

Distantly, you registered being lifted off the ground. Your head was pounding and felt like it was packed with cotton to the point of bursting. A few steps later, you were dropped on a bed. You’re so out of it that you can’t even tell if it’s yours or his.

An attempt was made to say something, anything, but your tongue refused to cooperate. All you could do was stare up at the blurring form of Shanks helplessly, wondering why he would go to such an extreme over you asking a few questions. 

The last thing you remember is a blanket being pulled over you before everything fades to black as you’re forcibly thrown into a restless sleep. 

[bubble-leaves]

sorry to bother you but can you please do more hassian hcs? tysm 🥺🙏

It's not a bother, Hassian coming up!! Here are some winter-based hcs ❄️🎄

Hassian . . .

- stays at your place during winters with Tau

- usually doesn't bother to keep too much firewood during winter, as he's adapted to the cold; that changes as soon as he gets with you (he is getting so. much. damn. firewood.)

- helps out around your house and does not allow it to get messy in any capacity

- is still the main cook, but still loves when you help him out in the kitchen

- secretly looks forward to when you bake cookies or any festive treats, although he tries not to partake in too many

- requires moisturizing lotions during the winter, as his skin dries easily in the cold, dry air

- brushes out and redoes his locs every winter; your help would greatly cut down the time! Plus, Hassian secretly wants to bond with you that way

- reads a lot during the winter, as he has lot more free time; expect a lot of discussion over romance dramas, as you're the only person he can and wants to talk about them with

- tries not to sleep in, as he doesn't want to fall into a routine that's hard to break when spring arrives . . . buuuut he'll indulge a bit for you

- loves snuggling and sharing/maintaining warmth with you, especially near a fireplace or furnace; he gets chills all up and down his back, his face is one of pure peace, and he actually smiles and laughs

- thinks you are absolutely adorable in big winter coats; he has to look away after a while so he doesn't get cute aggression

- hadn't played in the snow since he was a boy with his momma, but you manage to bring out and heal his inner child a bit when you start snowball fights or build snowfolk with him

- is a competitive and ruthless snowball fighter; he hits his mark every time, so watch out!!

- is always curious about human tradition, so if you celebrate Christmas or Hanakkah, you have to explain to him what it is and why you do it. He's fascinated by any answer

- isn't one for putting up winterlights, but he'll insist on hopping on your roof to put them up for you if you do

- chops down a Winterlight tree himself; you are not going to buy the knockoffs when you have a boyfriend right here that can get a real one for you!

- loves decorating the tree with you. He feels strong surges of intense love and sentimentality every single time he looks at you. While placing lights, baubles, and other ornaments onto this intimate project that reflects each of your hearts, Hassian reflects on how lucky he is to have you in his life and share these special moments with you

[neil-gaiman]

Hello, Mr. Gaiman.

I'm sorry to bother you, but I have a question my brain has curled around that needs untangling before it chokes itself.

Specifically, writing has been my outlet since I was a child. Now that I'm an adult I find that trying to write as a mental and emotional release like I used to do results in tangled, messy projects that I eventually stop wanting to touch because I no longer feel the way I did when I started them. Either they're too much to handle going back to, or I've lost all connection to them by the time I remember them.

I don't know how to stop writing, or having ideas, but the longer I go without finishing anything the more it feels like a protracted mired of wasted time and energy.

Have you ever felt this way, or known someone who has? Do you ore they have any advice for someone feeling similarly?

You have my sincerest apologies if this is too personal or phrased too casually for the question itself.

I hope you have a wonderful evening, wherever the stars find you tonight.

We tend to mess ourselves up by deciding to make enormous things that we can't finish and setting ourselves up to fail.

The solution is normally to plan smaller things. Learn to write short-short stories and short stories. Learn to write novellas. Make things that are within your grasp, and you can learn your craft on.

Plan to begin a twelve volume space and dimension hopping saga involving the love lives and wars of a hundred emperors and you are setting yourself up for disaster. Plan a short story about a lost pirate going to the shops and you'll probably succeed. And you'll learn more about your craft from everything you finish than from anything you abandon.

[estellesdoll]

31 𝒅𝒂𝒚𝒔 𝒐𝒇 𝒘𝒊𝒏𝒕𝒆𝒓 | 𝒄𝒉𝒓𝒊𝒔𝒕𝒎𝒂𝒔 𝒎𝒂𝒔𝒕𝒆𝒓𝒍𝒊𝒔𝒕

⊹. 𝒅𝒂𝒚 15 : 𝒌𝒏𝒐𝒄𝒌𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒐𝒏 𝒄𝒉𝒓𝒊𝒔𝒕𝒎𝒂𝒔 𝒎𝒐𝒓𝒏𝒊𝒏𝒈 𖧧 . ָ࣪    ִֶָ

𝒑𝒂𝒊𝒓𝒊𝒏𝒈: 𝒆𝒙!𝒓𝒂𝒇𝒆 𝒄𝒂𝒎𝒆𝒓𝒐𝒏 𝒙 𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒆𝒓

𓄹 ࣪.𝒑𝒊𝒏𝒏𝒆𝒅 𝒑𝒐𝒔𝒕 𓄹 ࣪.𝒎𝒂𝒔𝒕𝒆𝒓𝒍𝒊𝒔𝒕 𓄹 ࣪.𝒏𝒂𝒗𝒊𝒈𝒂𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒏 𓄹 ࣪.𝒕𝒂𝒈𝒍𝒊𝒔𝒕

It’s Christmas morning, and the house smells like cinnamon and fresh pine. Liora sits cross-legged by the tree, her little hands busy arranging her new dollhouse furniture with quiet concentration. The soft hum of holiday music plays in the background, and you’re curled up on the couch, a mug of coffee warming your hands.

A knock at the door startles you, and Liora looks up, her big eyes curious. “Mommy, who is it?”

“I don’t know, baby,” you say softly, setting your mug down as you stand. “Stay here, okay?”

When you open the door, your breath catches. Rafe is standing there, bundled in a coat and scarf, his cheeks pink from the cold. Snowflakes cling to his hair, and in his hands is a large, brightly wrapped box with a gold bow. His gaze softens the moment he sees you, but there’s a nervous edge to his smile.

“Merry Christmas,” he says, voice quiet.

“Rafe,” you breathe, glancing back at the living room. “What are you—?”

“I wanted to see her,” he interrupts gently, his eyes darting past you. “Just for a little bit. I know it’s not my day, but… it’s Christmas. I couldn’t not come.”

You pause, emotions warring in your chest. Things between you two had been complicated—messy, even—but the sincerity in his expression, the hope, was impossible to ignore.

“Come in,” you say softly, stepping aside.

Rafe’s relief is visible as he steps inside, carefully setting the gift on the floor. His eyes immediately find Liora, and his whole face lights up. “Hey, princess,” he calls gently.

Liora gasps, jumping to her feet. “Daddy!”

She runs to him, throwing her arms around his legs, and he crouches down, scooping her into a warm hug. “Merry Christmas, sweetheart,” he murmurs, pressing a kiss to her temple.

“What’s that?” she asks, pointing at the giant box.

Rafe grins, his eyes flicking to yours for a brief moment. “A special present for my special girl. Wanna open it?”

Her face lights up as she nods, and he carries her to the couch, setting the box in front of her. You lean against the doorway, watching as she rips into the paper with uncontainable excitement.

Inside is a child-sized, pink-and-white play kitchen, complete with miniature pots, pans, and accessories. Liora squeals with delight, running her hands over the tiny appliances and pretending to turn the knobs on the stove.

“I can make cookies!” she exclaims, hopping up and down.

Rafe chuckles, his gaze soft. “Only if I get the first batch,” he teases, earning a giggle from her.

“Thank you, Daddy,” she says, throwing her arms around his neck.

He holds her tightly, and then, almost shyly, he looks up at you. “There’s something for you, too,” he says quietly, pulling a smaller, neatly wrapped package from his coat pocket.

You unwrap the gift slowly, your heart racing for reasons you don’t want to admit. Inside is a silver bracelet with a delicate charm shaped like a star, its surface engraved with a date—the day Liora was born. It’s simple, but the meaning behind it hits you like a wave. The emotions flood you, and for a moment, you just stare at it in your hands, trying to keep your composure.

“Rafe…” you murmur, your voice catching in your throat.

He shifts uncomfortably but doesn’t take his eyes off you. “I know things aren’t easy between us,” he says, his tone quiet but sincere. “But I just wanted to give you something that shows I’m thinking of you... of both of you.”

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@estellesdoll