#tell me i can't and you're gonna see me win [sophie]

[ofragesaesthetics]

                           Sophie Peyton Callaghan                       Daughter of Robert [Big Hero 6]

Find Sophie here Sophie’s aesthetics here Join AskStoryKids-HQ here

[nxttheendxfthestxryarch2]

Double Open Starter: Festival Trouble (Sophie/Fitz)

Sophie looks around enthusiastically, taking a bite of her cotton candy and wrinkling her nose. Holy crap, that’s sweet. She loves it. But whoa, she wasn’t ready for i--

She lets out a choked yelp when a hand suddenly catches her arm and drags her to a side of the building not easily seen by the festival. She’s about to yell when a hand comes to her mouth and she looks up--

She lets out a shaky breath, pushing his hand away. “Fitz! You scared me half to death!”

“Sorry, Callaghan, I just... wanted to see you. Since I can’t...” He motions out to the festival. “Take you around.”

Sophie sighs, laughing softly. “You’re ridiculous, you know that?”

“Yeah,” he shrugs with a smile. “Ridculously crazy for you, Soph,” and he leans in--

But practically pushes her away as someone rounds the corner with them, and she squeaks, trying to look anywhere but at her boyfriend, who leans back against the wall and looks back towards the festival casually.

[crymeariveronceagain]

Keefe pit fighting after a couple of years in the human world

This is a weird one that i had to look up and i got concerned so we're just gonna go with underground illegal boxing clubs that take in tons of money because i can see it and i vibe with the idea of black eyes and bloody lips so y'know what let's goooo

Sophie doesn't think it's him. After years, years, literal years of looking for him. This can't be him. The Keefe she knew wouldn't have blood on his teeth. The Keefe she knew wouldn't have cracked knuckles, wouldn't have heavy, dark bruises on his wrists. The Keefe she knew wouldn't have such messy, sweaty hair. The Keefe she knew wouldn't have scars on his mouth or on his arms.

And Keefe wouldn't look like he's going to kill someone.

He wouldn't do this.

But, she thinks, does she want this not to be him?

His eyes are dark and his stance is perfect. He moves like he's been here for years, hits like he's trying to break bone. He's not holding back, he's not trying to do anything gently.

His opponent is a tall man, who spits curses at him with every other breath.

Sophie watches and winces, watching him get up, over and over, kick the guy in the gut, slam into him with extra force. He moved like a warrior, like a war-seasoned, war-ruined man. His eyes were nearly unseeing, chasing after pain and rage and anger like there was no point to his existence.

The people around them were screaming cheers and obscenities, and the smell of sweat and blood hung heavy underneath the basement cieling. Someone screamed that "the kid should just give up! He can't win this!"

The probably Keefe person got cracked in the face with the taller man's elbow. The person who was probably Keefe cussed like someone could hear him.

Eventually, after gaining a split lip that started leaking blood down his chin, and a black eye, he managed to knock the guy over and hold him down. Sophie swallowed, the headlock and the guy slamming his fist's against Keefe making Sophie want to puke.

Someone shouted that "Lord Hunkyhair" had won the match, and Sophie's stomach dropped.

Yes, that was definitely Keefe.

And he was a whirl of violence and terror.

He spat a mouthful of bloody spit onto the dirty floor of the basement, and stepped out of the ring, wiping his face off with a ragged towel.

She watched him like he was the first drink of water she'd had in months.

Her hands shook, and she took a step towards him. A man brushed in front of him and handed him a stack of cash. "Get out of here, Kid. I don't wanna know where you learned to fight like that."

Keefe grinned, his eyes still dead, and his lip still bloody. "Thanks," he said. "I'll be back next week. Make you about thirty k? That sound about reasonable? I'll be sure to act super timid."

"Get out of here," snapped the older man. "This isn't a place for someone like you."

Keefe snorted. "And yet I wind up here."

Sophie followed him, quietly, up out of the basement. He glanced over his shoulder, and she kept her eyes on the ground.

His eyes narrowed.

She kept following him.

Three seconds later, she was pinned against the brick wall of a building near an alley. "I'm gonna give you ten seconds to tell me who the hell you are and what the hell you want." Keefe snarled, his voice entirely danger and violence.

"Keefe?" she whispered, softly.

"How do you know that name," he spat. His lip was still bloody.

"It's your name, isn't it? You're Keefe Sencen. My Keefe Sencen."

His eyes widened, and he pulled back away from her, his hands starting to shake.

Curse words fell out of his mouth like he couldn't control them, and he started backing away from her. "Foster," he said, his entire body shaking. "You gotta get out of here. Mom will find you, she--"

"She's dead, Keefe," Sophie said. "And I wouldn't care about her."

Keefe took another step back. "Why not?"

"Because I care about you," She said. "You're the person who always protected me, and I felt like crap not being able to protect you."

Keefe looked at her like she'd grown a third head. "Tell me," he said, slowly, "What I said to you the first day I met you."

Sophie blinked, her mind sorting through her memories. "You must be lost," she answered, after a moment.

"Project the memory into my brain," He said, like it was the most casual think in the world.

Sophie did.

And when she pulled out of his head, he was crying.

"Are you okay?"

Keefe shook his head.

"Keefe," Sophie asked, softly. "What happened to you?"

[knockknockchicagopd]

❛ OH, SHE ISN'T PLAYING ❜

❚❙ REQUEST BY @ocetevasgirl: Hola preciosa! Can I request prompt 8 from the fluff list with Voight? Love you 💖

❚❙ PROMPTS: “You're jealous, aren't you?” “You're calling that jealousy? If she/he can still use her/his legs, I'm not being jealous”.

❚❙ HANK VOIGHT MASTERLIST.

❚❙ WORDS: about 2k.

❚❙ A/N: this writing hasn’t been edited, you may find some grammar mistakes, I’m sorry about that. If you find a description about body or a word out of place, or something that it makes you feel uncomfortable / unrepresented, let me know by a private message and I will change it delighted.

❚❙ GIF credits: to my amazing @sonsofeorl.

❚❙ Tag list: @melblacc @rebelwrites @skyofficialxx @sesamepancakes @scarletsoldierrr @mondefantastique @that-chick212 @enbyamaro @inlovewith3 @ocetevasgirl @sophie-writes. If you want to be added to my tag list, send me a message.

Since you saw this morning Olivia Benson walking downstairs accompanied by Voight, your good mood got burned into ashes just in a sight. He hadn't told you that she was going to come and, actually, he hadn't why to tell you. For him, it's only part of his job. But you know it's something else for her. You have seen her how she looks at your man. The unjustified and unnecessary touches on his back, on his arm. The stupid smiles she draws to him, that you would be delighted of erasing using your fist.

You have never, ever, been the kind of jealous girl. You trust your boyfriend blindly, but you don't trust her. You can't. You have tried it with all your efforts, but then you heard her laughing for no reason and Hank responding with a fleeting smile. You haven't talked him about how you feel, because the age gap between both makes you look stupid sometimes. Fortunately, you're professional enough to not let these things affect your job and your relationship. You have learnt how to hide your emotions, even if sometimes your friends suspect that something is going on by the tic that makes you blink your left eye unconsciously.

Aware that he must be there with his amazing friend, Kim places a hand on your shoulder trying to encourage you to cross the entrance and come into the Molly's. Licking your lips as you calm yourself a little, you nod pushing the door to be embraced by the warm atmosphere inside it, covering you from the cold breeze of Chicago. Letting your eyes travel around the place, you greet some of your friends waving a hand, before landing your gaze on your boyfriend. He turns at that exact moment, not even trying to contain a smile. You show him another back, but his disappears when he sees you passing him away straight to the Unit's table without greeting him. And Olivia notices it, but you don't care.

“What's up, trouble?” Jay pulls down your hair, earning a laugh from you.

“Platt said you crashed a patrol”. Wrinkling your nose in a funny gesture, after Adam's words, you take a seat next to him.

“These aren't the things you have to learn from us, you know it, right?” Antonio makes you all chuckle, calling to his sister raising a finger to ask for more beers.

“I caught the bad guy, didn't I?”

“Yeah, crashing a car”. Atwater raises his eyebrows, leaning over the table.

“But I caught the bad guy, that's my job not to take care of the cars. I'm not a mechanic…”

“BUT A COP!” You all say in unison, as always, like a famous quote.

As soon as the beers arrive, you make another toast for your car lost in action. And everything is fun until you feel a presence behind you and the silence gets installed around your table. Gulping and licking your bottom lip, as your friends drink from their bottles trying to pretend that you all weren't doing what you were doing, you turn around over your stool forcing a smile.

“Having fun, officer (Y/L/N)?” Platt's voice gives you the kind of shivers you can hide.

“No, no, n— I mean… yes”. The look on her face causes you to swallow again. “I me—mean, no?”

“It's a simple question. Yes or no”.

“Trudy, leave the kid alone”.

Saved by the bell. Your hero.

“Crash a car is part of our tradition, ain't it?” Hank tries to put some humor in the situation, traveling his eyes from her to you.

“Hm”. The woman just replies, before walking away.

You don't know about what kind of tradition he is talking of, but at least he has saved your ass. Again. Not being able to look at him, you sip from your beer trembling yet. Probably, tomorrow Crowley will ask for a convincing explanation. I caught the bad guy will not work with her, that's for sure. Feeling a soft touch in your lower back, you raise your orbs from the bottle to your boss, who makes a brief move with his chin to point at the back door at the end of the bar. You don't want to go, you know exactly what it's going to happen and you just want to forget the intense day you have had. But he raises his eyebrows with that cockiness usual on him, about to drag you if you don't put down from your stool.

With an imperceptible sight, you end up obeying in silence under the attentive eyes of your friends. Hank walks behind you with both hands in the pocket of his jeans, as you wear your jacket to zip it above your chest. The fresh air hits your face once you reach the Molly's back alley, resting your back against the wall with your face bowed to your military black boots. Placing himself in front of you, he studies thoroughly your gesture, your lips pressed and the lack of eye contact.

“What's the matter?”

Shaking your head slightly, you cross one leg behind the other, putting your hands on your lower back.

“You're jealous, aren't you?”

Letting go an exaggerated chuckle, you roll your eyes before gluing them on him. “You're calling that jealousy? If she can still use her legs, I'm not being jealous”.

“It ain't a good moment to be sarcastic, sweetheart”.

“I'm not. She is just a colleague, right?”

Hank nods in silence tilting his head closer and you're sure he can hear your heart speeding up under your skin. He always does that, putting you nervous only to prove the power he has on you, on your body, on your senses. And you hate him. You hate how proud he feels because of it. The grin on his face causes a chill down your spine, standing up from the wall to pretend that he is wrong, that he doesn't control your reactions.

“Hm… Good to know you're conscious of her position. She's gonna stay in my house tonight. We didn't plan to need more than one day and she doesn't have a place”.

For a moment, the image of you punching his face runs your mind, keeping your hands inside the pockets of your jacket to close them in two fist until you feel your nails hurting your palms. There are a lot of replies to his words stuck in your throat, but if it's a proof of trust, you would fail miserably. This is a clash of titans and you're not going to let him win.

“That's fine”. You respond squinting at him, taking a step ahead almost facing Hank. “Anything else?”

“No”.

“Okay”.

With a feigned smile, you turn to the left to leave the alley and come back to your private party, which means to get drunk until Burgess and Hailey have to carry you home.

“What an interesting night is gonna be”. Hank whispers seeing you grabbing the doorknob, teasing you as only he knows how to do.

Kissing your lips as your steps stop dead, you turn your head about to lose your calm.

“If I see her putting a hand on your leg again, I'm gonna break every single fucking bone of her body”.

You couldn't help it. He knows exactly which words he has to use to push you to the edge. The worst part is the fun he usually has doing it. Walking towards you moving his head as if he was nodding, Hank caresses his bottom lip with a forefinger looking thoughtful.

“I didn't think of you as someone violent”.

“Fucking watch me, Voight”.

“Hm…”

Containing a laugh, he opens the door for you, pointing at the inside with a hand. Clearly challenging you. But before you can pass him away, the sergeant grabs your forearm to push you back and lean his lips over your ear.

“She booked the hotel yesterday”. His raspy voice touring your head makes you feel your cheeks burning in shame.

He has won already and you know it. Wanting to leave him again, he pulls you back again hearing the heavy snort escaping your mouth.

“She knows who you are. Told her this morning”.

Did really he? Arching up one of your eyebrows, you can't help but turn your face slightly at him. Your parted lips reveal the surprise and the confusion. Why can she know it, but not your friends? Just because she doesn't work in Chicago? It isn't fair. At least, under your opinion. It's not like you're going to act like Voight's girlfriend and take the advantage of what it means. But it allows you to smile at him when you cross your eyes in the hallways, it allows you to don't have to hide if you want to have lunch together, it allows you to not have to drive two different cars and leave his house before him to work. Small simple things that for you means a lot.

“Cut off the show, boss. Everybody is looking at us”.

It isn't the first time that Hank can't avoid touching you somehow in public, finding the stupidest excuse just to feel you. And he really enjoys putting you nervous, watching the way you lick your lips and bite the bottom one, feel the way your body gets tense when he lays his hands on you, the short frights he gives you coming behind you and whispering ‘officer (Y/L/N)’ in your ear.

Actually, there's no reason why you decided to hide your relationship. You haven't even talked about it. You haven't thought if it's because of the age gap, because of his past, because he is your boss (...). You haven't given it any importance, till you met Olivia Benson a couple months ago. That kind of sergeant who comes from New York and thinks that she runs the Chicago police department. Hank hasn't told you how they met, imagining they did when he was working on the Gang Unit.

“Admit your jealousy”. Tilting his head enough to look into your eyes, the challenging grimace comes back to his face.

Knowing that he's not going to stop, you simply nod. “It isn't fair that other women can… touch you, and I have to wait more than twelve hours just… simply to smile at you without looking suspicious”.

Hank can hear to perfection the hopelessness in your voice, feeling your fingers loosening his grip around your other forearm. It's not a question of possessiveness, but of insecurity; and he's discovering it now, thinking about since when you feel like that.

“Do you wan'me to take you home?”

You shake your head, now with guilt running under your skin because you know it has ruined his night.

“I'm okay, boss. Gonna have some fun with my friends after a long day”.

“Will you have some fun with your boss after that? End the night in my house playing pool, drinking whisky? I will let you win”.

You can't help but show him a fleeting smile, almost curving your lips. That's a yes for him and Hank feels satisfied. Holding your right hand on his, your boyfriend brings it to his mouth placing a tender kiss on the back of it, before letting you go.

Hailey and Burgess are squinting at you, knowing that their suspicions weren't wrong at all. Not saying a word and pretending normality, you sit back on your stool to have a sip from your beer. You're literally sweating right now, and it isn't because of the jacket you are wearing but because of the petty smiles appearing on the other cops.

“You know that we work in Intelligence, right, little trouble?” Antonio is the first one talking jokingly.

“Yeah, and we don't need to be detectives to know what's going on”. Hailey hums resting his arms over the table.

“How is Voight in private? I've always had curiosity. He takes off the stick of his ass when he comes home, or…?”

“Halstead, I can hear you”.

“Yeah, that was the intention, Sarge”. He replies, lifting up his beer in a silent toast.

Turning at Hank just for a second, you can't help but shrug with your eyebrows briefly frowned in a funny grimace that makes him giggle. It was inevitable, since they have seen the way and how close he has talked to you. But now, the pressure within your chest is dropping down, feeling better.

[adventuresindolls]

Meet Lexie Chapter 3: What Flying Feels Like

(Aside: I know in the story Sophie gets chocolate ice cream and this is clearly a popsicle, but it's the closest I had)

Sophie's friend did come over the next day after Sunday school, but Lexie hardly saw them. She hardly noticed anything that day. Over breakfast, Papa had announced that as a treat to make up for moving, and to forget new school anxiety, they would be going to the County Fair every day this week. Lexie hadn't heard anything said to her since then.

Fairs were thrilling. They meant rare treats and delicious smells and rows of bright booths to hop between. Sophie and Lexie had an ongoing system where they would run around as buddies between the game booths and the ones selling pretty necklaces and giving away paper fans. But when Lexie started to get overwhelmed, they would go together to the 4-H building to look at pretty dresses and pictures of flowers. It was air conditioned in there and much quieter than the rest of the fair. Sometimes Lexie would find a cool corner to sit and read the book she always carried while Sophie found a play area or other kids to talk to.

But best of all were the rides.

They usually went for one day a year. But this year was special—5 whole days of excitement! It was hard for Lexie to think about anything else all day. She read the same page 6 times, lost a Mario game badly to Sophie, and finally went for a long walk around the new neighborhood. She saw a bunch of kids outside playing in sprinklers or shooting Nerf guns at each other, all younger than her. She only got 3 blocks away before deciding it was too hot and turning around. The rest of the day was spent curled up on the couch watching her favorite magic girl anime, which the conversation at shul the day before had reminded her she liked.

She woke up way too early on Monday. By the time Papa called her for breakfast, she had finished her favorite book again and rearranged her stuffed animals. After her usual bowl of dry cereal, she put on her favorite space-themed dress and her comfiest velcro shoes and was pulling on the car door handle before Daddy even had the picnic basket closed.

Lexie had never been to these particular fairgrounds before, but they were as bright and full as she expected. The day wasn't hot yet, which was perfect for running around. They each got $5 for a snack so they didn't have to regroup until lunch.

"What about buying fair stuff?" Lexie asked.

"You can have souvenir money on Friday," Papa told her. "Otherwise you'll buy one thing today and find something better tomorrow."

They ran through the rows of stalls, stuffing Sophie's overall pockets and Lexie's narwhal purse with free pencils in every color of the rainbow and candy they definitely weren't supposed to eat yet. Lexie only had a couple chocolate kisses, but before they reached the end of the lane Sophie had eaten six.

They spent the morning looking at every single booth and spinning prize wheels until they got bored. Having pushed the absolute limit of their patience, they made it as far as 11 o'clock before heading for the games.

Lexie went straight for the ducky fishing game. They had a giant octopus as the big prize. The smiling man handed her a fishing pole and told her to go for it.

She did not immediately go for it. She thought the duck she was aiming for—the little gold one—was about three and half feet away. How hard would she have to swing to hit it without overreaching?

"Hey, are you gonna go?" The man looked a little less smiley now.

Lexie blamed him startling her for why the first time the line went flying past the entire tank. It was much closer the second time, but still plopped into the water an inch away from its goal.

"That's alright!" The man encouraged her. "Try one more time!"

"No, thanks," Lexie politely told him and dashed away before he could try to convince her. She had just remembered that she wanted to save her remaining 8 tickets for rides.

The next thing she remembered was that she hadn't heard Sophie's chatter in a long time. She would be in so much trouble if dads found her alone.

Even worse, something might happen to Sophie, who was "not the most responsible or cautious" kid.

The crowds around her seemed to double suddenly. They were mostly adults or teenagers much taller than her and she couldn't see more than three feet in any direction.

"Sophie?" She meant to call out, but it came out as barely a whisper. That happened sometimes.

Lexie ran up and down the aisles of games and all around the rides next to them. Surely her sister wouldn't be bored enough among the flashing lights and interactive booths to wander back to the ones she had no money for. She tried and failed twice more to call for Sophie, but she doubted even at her loudest she could be heard over the thousand conversations that buzzed around her.

She was about to give up and go find her fathers—who were probably listening to one of the free concerts—and enlist their help whatever the consequences (she was pretty sure by now that Sophie was being murdered or had fallen down a magically appearing manhole) when she spotted her long dark hair by a food booth in a far corner.

"Where have you been?" Lexie wanted to be angry, but instead she felt like crying.

"Right here," Sophie's voice was muffled by a bite of chocolate ice cream, "Where have YOU been?"

"You ran off! You can't do that! We have to stay together."

"I didn't run off. I stopped 'cause I wanted to play something different."

"You have to tell me that!" Lexie really wasn't about to admit that she was mostly embarrassed she hadn't made sure Sophie, who had ADHD and was known to get distracted, was with her.

"Don't yell at me!" Sophie was getting mad.

"Alright, I'm sorry," Lexie finally relented. She gave Sophie a quick hug, which was so rare for her—too much touch made her brain go staticky—that Sophie stopped arguing. "Let's go ride the rides. What's wrong?"

"I don't have any tickets left." Sophie's eyes were wide with surprise and disappointment. "I played a bunch of games, and I didn't even win anything. Can I have one of your tickets?"

Lexie looked down at her sister's tear-filled eyes and felt a sudden sense of protectiveness. She planned so Sophie didn't have to. "You can have two. But only if you tell me where you're going."

"Ok!" Sophie's face instantly brightened.

The rides were all bright colors and flashing lights and quick movements. Lexie didn't even know where to focus and let Sophie lead the way, finishing her ice cream and chattering away about how cool every ride was.

And then she saw the swings.

It had always been her dream to ride that one. It was always more pastel than neon and it looked like fun. Just like spinning on the playground swings but MORE. She had wanted to last year but got too scared at the last minute, even though Papa promised to go with her.

"Sit here and hold my purse. I'll be back." She barely glanced to make sure Sophie obeyed before skipping to wait in line. It seemed very soon that a teenager with a green mohawk took her ticket and motioned her up the metal step. Up close, the ride seemed much bigger, but no one else was hesitating to strap themselves in. Swallowing, she grabbed the chains on the closest chair and pulled herself up into it.

She was still pretty sure it was a good idea, right up until a different teenager came by and pulled the metal bar down on her lap. All of a sudden, she kind of wanted to go back to fishing for ducks. She glanced through the crowd to find Sophie, who was still on the bench and completely ignoring her, her favorite otter in one hand and the other covered in melted ice cream.

Lexie gasped and grabbed the chains with both hands at the first jerk of movement. Several people around her giggled, and she heard at least one "Oh!" of surprise. Very slowly, the ride began to spin and rise into the air. She was torn between stomach-dropping anxiety at being so high and absolute delight at all she could see. The rows of booths looked like brightly colored handkerchief squares. The people swarmed like ants—at least, she thought, there were no crowds up here. She soon lost track of Sophie. And then she could see beyond the fair, to the tiny houses of the city itself. The taller buildings downtown looked like shiny metal twigs. She forgot to be worried.

They were spinning faster. And faster. It wasn't scary up here, really, it was wonderful. It was like everything she'd always wanted to feel when she spun herself until she fell down or kicked her legs to swing as high as possible. It was impossible to describe. Like everything that was always too loud and too bright just stopped. Like there was no such thing as feeling trapped and panicked in a crowd. Like nothing existed but her and the seat and spinning. Like she could stay up here forever. She kicked her legs, making her chair wiggle.

It couldn't actually last forever, of course, and almost before she knew it they were slowing. Her stomach dropped again, this time with disappointment, and her legs nearly collapsed beneath her when she first stumbled out of the chair and through the metal gate.

She found Sophie on the same bench where she'd left her, the remainder of her ice cream staining her hands, face, and overalls, but miraculously not Elliot the Otter. Lexie briefly considered telling her to go wash up, then decided it wasn't worth it.

"Hi! I'm gonna go ride the rollercoaster!"

"Ok."

Sophie hopped up and stuffed Elliot back into her pocket. "What are you gonna ride next?"

"The swings."

"Again?" Sophie looked at her like riding the same ride twice was the weirdest thing she'd heard that day.

But Lexie couldn't help grinning at the thought of freedom and flight. "Yeah."

[ohkissme]

Text Messages

Lauren: Wow.

Camila: What?

Lauren: Really now?

Camila: I don't even know what you're talking about.

Lauren: *sends link of viral video of Camila and Shawn making out*

Camila: What about that?

Lauren: Why would you post it?

Camila: I accidentally posted it and when I deleted it, somebody already had a copy and there's no point asking then to take it down lol

Lauren: so you're happy that it's trending huh?

Camila: Stop making a big deal out of it.

Lauren: I just hate when I see you making out with someone else. Well, you don't seem to care anyway.

Camila: Wow. You care. When was the last time that you cared about my feelings?

Lauren: I always did... still do.

Camila: I've tried thousand times just for you to get me back, always got rejected and now you're telling me that you actually care.

Lauren: I didn't reject you. You were the one that got away.

Camila: You still ignored me

Lauren: I didn't mean to

Camila: This is insane... why are you suddenly texting me now? Thought you 'unlove' me long ago already

Lauren: Stop assuming, Camila.

Camila: Then stop coming back and then leave whenever you feel like to! You're messing with my feelings and I freaking hate it!

Lauren: Are you in love with Shawn?

Camila: Why do you care?

Lauren: Yes or no?

Camila: Does it matter?

Lauren: Solo responde! Si o no?

Camila: Por que es tan importante?!

Lauren: I never stopped loving you. I just need to know if you're in love with someone else so I would know my place.

Camila: Estas bromeando... Stop making a fool out of me okay?

Lauren: I'm serious.

Camila: Why are you telling all of these now?! 4 years have passed! The video of Shawn and I had almost been a year and then I'm gonna receive a text from you saying you don't like seeing me making out with someone else just cause you still love me? Ughhhhh

Camila: You're making me feel crazy! Always did.

Lauren: You just have to answer me. Are you in love with Shawn?

Camila: If I was, would you ghost me permanently?

Camila: If I wasn't, would you try to win me back?

Lauren: I'd let you live your life and never bother you again if you were in love with him.

Camila: The truth? I can't be in love with him.

Lauren: Why?

Camila: Because I never stopped loving you either. Happy now?

Lauren: En serio?

Camila: Why would I joke about my feelings?

Lauren: I don't know...

Camila: You know, I've longed to be back in your arms but I'm afraid you no longer need or want me.

Lauren: Where are you?

Camila: I'm at home. Why?

Lauren: Silly. Are you in Miami? I am here too.

Camila: And you're planning on coming over?

Lauren: Don't have to say.

Camila: Shit.

Lauren: Por que?

Camila: En serio????

Lauren: Si. Hay algo mal?

Camila: No no no. Just that we were arguing earlier...

Lauren: I just really need to see you.

Camila: I hate you.

Lauren: You always do. I'm on my way. See you in a bit.

Camila: Damn you.

(Half an hour later)

Lauren rings the door bell.

Sophia: *gasps upon seeing planet green eyes* Milaaaaaa!!!

Lauren: Hi, Sophi! So good to see you. *embraces the 12 years old girl*

Sophia: *hugs back* Same to you. How are you? Why only visit now?

Camila: *getting closer* What? Woah... you were serious... *whispers*

Lauren: *smiles widely*

Sophia: *stares at the two and grins* I uh... I gotta tiktok. *leaves*

Camila: *immediately wraps arms around the taller one and sighs*

Lauren: *tightens embrace*

Camila: Tell me i'm not dreaming.

Lauren: *pulls away and kisses the shorter one on the cheek*

Camila: *whispers* Te quiero...

Lauren: *smiles and slowly presses her lips on Camila's and kisses her tenderly*

Sinuhe: *walks in and gasps and drops sandwich* Oh Dios mio! En tu habitacion por favor!

[ofragesaesthetics]

Tag Dump 5

[nxttheendxfthestxryarch2]

“I’ve realized now that our world doesn’t define us. We define our world.”

[nxttheendxfthestxryarch2]

“I’d rather be punished for making the right decision, than live with guilt the rest of my life.”

[nxttheendxfthestxryarch2]

“I feel like we probably shouldn’t be this kind of tired at our age. Y’know?”

[nxttheendxfthestxryarch2]

Open Starter: Rather Messy (Sophie)

Sophie frowns as more pages fall out of her notebook and sighs, picking them up and carrying all of the mess of papers and half a binding over to a table to inspect and take care of.

How can she get this mess into some kind of order? She doesn’t have anything new or anywhere to move this stuff to, her notebook needs to make it a bit longer and it’s not looking too good. She carefully inspects the binding that holds a few of the pages in place still, trying to think of what to do.

[nxttheendxfthestxryarch2]

Tag Dump - Sophie

[knockknockchicagopd]

A SERIE WITH HANK VOIGHT. CHAPTER II.

❚❙ WORDS: about 1.2k

❚❙ A/N: this writing hasn’t been edited, you may find some grammar mistakes, I’m sorry about that. If you find a description about body or a word out of place, or something that makes you feel uncomfortable / unrepresented, let me know by a private message and I will change it delighted.

❚❙ GIF credits: to the author.

❚❙ Tag list: @melblacc @rebelwrites @skyofficialxx @sesamepancakes @scarletsoldierrr @mondefantastique @that-chick212 @enbyamaro @inlovewith3 @ocetevasgirl @destynelseclipsa @jadakiss13 @mcgreads @graniairish @sophie-writes. If you want to be added to my tag list, send me a message.

You haven't been able to stop thinking about Hank and his visit the whole day, about what he said, about what he gave you. Natalie's opinion is you should give him a second chance, but Maggie and April don't agree. They said people don't change, but, what if he has done it after being in jail? At least, you need to know if it's true what he told you about his new job. Maybe this is going to help you to make a decision. You're not an officer, but you're aware of the difference between Intelligence and the Gang Unit.

Passing away the private parking of the District, you check his car is still there, which means he's working yet. Taking a deep breath until filling up your lungs completely, you leave your black Mustang in front of the building to step out of it. You're not going to lie saying you aren't nervous, while you're forced to keep your trembling hands inside the pockets of your jacket. The last time you were there was a year ago, to be interrogated by two cops who treated you like shit. You don't know what happened with them, but after Hank told you he made a deal with the Attorney for you, they maybe were relieved to Traffic.

As you shake your head to focus on what you're going to do, you go upstairs walking in, straight to the main desk. Platt is there, and she can't hide a smile as soon as she sees you coming. She has been one of these people who didn't abandon you after what happened, keeping you under her wings only like a mother would do. Boden and she have been like your parents since they passed out when you were just a kid.

“Is it true?” You whisper unzipping your jacket.

By the look on her face, you know that Hank has talked with her already about his visit this morning. She nods in silence, before pressing a button under the desk, causing a buzz in a metallic fence some feet away from you.

“Upstairs, honey”.

Not saying anything else, you continue your path leaving behind you the bustle of the officers to only hear Hank Voight's voice. You are still assimilating it. You can't believe he is free, after what he did. And you sure he has already apologized, even if you also know it doesn't fix everything. His words are interrupted when he lands his eyes on yours, earning other gazes. You can see Erin raising her chin proudly, sitting over her desk, and waving a hand slightly to welcome you.

“Sorry, I can come back later”.

“No. It's okay”. He quickly replies, before pointing at the board with different information written down and some pictures of guys that look like total jerks. “Start to work”.

After that demand, the new sergeant makes you a sign to follow him into his private office, rolling down the shutters to have some intimacy. Closing the door behind your back, you can't help but tour the place with your eyes and the curiosity that resides inside you ever since. Taking off your jacket, he grabs it to hang it on the coat rack before signaling the sofa at your left. You sit in silence, pulling away some bristles of hair behind your ears visibly nervous. You aren't even sure of what you want to tell him. If you want him in your life, or if you want him to disappear again.

At first, you watch sideways Hank resting his body against his desk, but he finally decides to sit by your side. You're not two strangers. You have been through a lot of shit together and he only wants to win you back, to be like in the old times. Doubting, he holds your hands to urge you to look at him.

“I wanna do the right thing this time. You don't have to say yes right now, we can work on this. Step by step”. His voice has always calmed you, no matter which kind of situation you've been in. And now, it's doing it again. “Justin and you were the reason why I continued waking up every day. And I did anything in my hands to protect you while I was outta the game. I want my life back. I will fight every day”.

Licking his teeth, Hank shakes his head briefly while putting his eyes on the window at his left, waiting for a word coming from your lips. But what he hears is a heavy sniff. About to cry, you try to gulp all the pain it has following you for long, long months since he left. If he doesn't want you, if he doesn't really love you, he'd not have gone to find you. He'd have not protected you all this time. And he is still there. Waiting for you.

Hank tosses an arm behind your neck to push you closer, almost lying you on his chest to place sweet kisses on your head. Earning soft but bitter sobs from you, he ends up wrapping your body as tightly as he can, rocking you under his grip. He didn't do the right thing putting you away, practically ghosting you. He has caused you a horrible sorrow all these months. Long days waiting for a call. Long nights sleeping alone and wishing to be by his side. But you have to keep in mind Platt's reaction. She is a good woman. She knows you ever since. She wouldn't let Hank hurt you a second time.

“Step by step”. He repeats in a raspy whisper, cupping your cheek into his hands to clean your tears with his thumbs. “I'm sorry. I swear it, (Y/N)”.

You know it, you can see it.

“Can I kiss you?”

The unexpected question causes you to giggle in tears. “Since when do you have to ask for it?”

“You have punched me before, sweetheart. I ain't gonna take the risk again”. He laughs rubbing the left side of his jaw.

Taking the advantage of having a hand free, you place it on the back of his neck to make your mouths crash in a kiss full of necessity. You have forgotten how good he used to taste, how good he used to make you feel. All your fears turn into ashes after the fire he provokes within your chest, embracing you closer and sitting you on his lap. Neither the two of you want any kind of distance right now between your bodies, having missed the touch from the other. Your lips were made to fit, transmitting so much tenderness, so much love; a bunch of emotions contained for a year, thinking you wouldn't be able to kiss him again, overwhelming your senses and clouding your mind.

Running out of air, caressing both sides of his neck with your fingertips, he pushes himself away just an inch enough to find your eyes again. Shining like never before. Falling a little more in love with you.

“Step by step”. You remark biting your bottom lip, softly sniffing again.

“All the steps you need”.