#can you tell when i found the glitter pens

[marigoldthegamer]

Listened to music, got inspired. I feel weird posting my art but whatever. Worst it could do is ignorable hate comments ¯⁠\⁠_⁠(⁠ツ⁠)⁠_⁠/⁠¯

[inkskinned]

hello. you left a neon pink post-it with pgs 194-359 due 9/12 in the book, by the way. it is now May 23rd and the library's printer is running out of ink. it jammed and tore my passport application. one of the librarians dutifully blacked out all my information (front and back!) before proceeding to use every unmarred inch as scrap paper.

i think maybe our (plural, inclusive) lives are connected. all of them. i have been thinking a lot about borrowing. about how people move through the world in waves, filling in the same spaces. i have probably stood on the same subway platform as you. we held the same book. all of us stand in the same line at the grocery, at the gas station. how many feet have stood washing dishes in my kitchen?

i hope you are doing well. the pen you used was a nice red, maybe a glitter pen? you have loopy, curling handwriting. i sometimes wonder if it is true that you can tell a personality by the shape of our letters. i'm borrowing my brother's car. he's got scrangly engineer handwriting (you know the one). it's a yellow-orange ford mustang boss. when i got out of the building, some kids were posing with it for a selfie. i felt a little bird grow in me and had to pause and pretend to be busy with my phone to give them more time for their laughing.

i have a habit of asking people what's the last good book you read? the librarian's handwriting on the back of my smeared-and-chewed passport application says the glass house in small undercase. i usually go for fantasy/sci fi, but she was glowing when she suggested it. i found your post-it on page 26, so i really hope you didn't have to read up to 359 in that particular book. i hope you're like me and just have a weird "random piece of trash" "bookmark" that somehow makes it through like, 58 books.

i wish the concept of soul mates was bigger. i wish it was about how my soul and your soul are reading the same work. how i actually put down that book at the same time you did - page 26 was like, all exposition. i wish we were soul mates with every person on the same train. how magical to exist and borrow the same space together. i like the idea that somewhere, someone is using the shirts i donated. i like the idea that every time i see a nice view and say oh gosh look at the view, you (plural, inclusive) said that too.

the kids hollered when i beeped the car. oh dude you set off the alarm, oh shit is she - dude that's her car!! one was extremely polite. "i like your car, Miss. i'm sorry we touched it." i said i wasn't busy, finish up the pictures. i folded your post-it into a paper crane while i waited. i thought about how my brother's a kind person but his handwriting looks angry. i thought about how for an entire year i drove someone to work every day - and i didn't even think to ask for gas money. my handwriting is straight capital letters.

i thought about how i can make a paper crane because i was taught by someone who was taught by someone else.

the kids asked me to rev the engine and you know i did. the way they reacted? you would have thought i brought the sun from the sky and poured it into a waterglass. i went home smiling about it. i later gave your post it-turned-bird to a tiny child on the bus. she put it in her mouth immediately.

how easy, standing in your shadow, casting my own. how our hands pass over each other in the same minor folds. i wonder how many of the same books you and i have read. i wonder how many people have the same favorite six songs or have been in the same restaurant or have attended the same movie premier. the other day i mentioned the Book Mill from a small town in western massachusetts - a lot of people knew of it. i wonder if i've ever passed you - and didn't even notice it.

i hope whatever i leave behind makes you happy. i hope my hands only leave gentle prints. i hope you and i get the same feeling when the sun comes out. soulmates across all of it.

[scarletwinterxx]

his day - mark lee dad imagine

hellooo. here's the mark dad father's day scenario🥺 i thought about writing one before father's day but i didn't have the time then some of you requested it so i wrote it during my free time. It took a while since I was busy but it's here. I hope you like it🤍

part1: day with dad mark lee

part2: another day with dad mark lee

part3: a day with the lee's

part4: (prologue) i don't know how to make eggs

part5: glitter pens and goodnight kisses with the Lee's

part6: first love and kisses

part7: naps and baby kicks

part8: then there was three

part9: just like you

part10: fool for you

part11: your day

For my other works you can check them out here, and for my other story series’ you can check them out here.

and if you want, u can buy me coffee(totally optional but any donation is very much appreciated!) thank you🥺💛

All works are copyrighted ©scarletwinterxx 2024 . Do not repost, re-write without the permission of author.

(gif not mine, credits to rightful owner)

Having a new born baby is a new challenge every time. It doesn't really matter if you already went through this twice. The fact that you have 2 older kids to get ready for school and a new born that wakes up every hour makes it 10 times more difficult.

But of course things are made better when you have your husband with you. The two of you already have the routine down to the T, usually you take the night shift since you have to feed baby Minsu while Mark takes the morning shift to get the kids ready and drive them to school.

Mark took some time off work to be with his family. He knew it would be difficult to leave you at home with the kids, and even though his parents offered to help he politely declined them with the assurance that he can handle it.

And he did. The kids are out the door and on their way to school just in time then Minsu to wake up to feed again, usually you'd do that before going downstairs to eat breakfast and get ready for the day.

The two older kids also adjusted pretty well with the birth of their new sibling, Minjee was so excited to meet him and was fascinated to see the little human. Minjung was also so happy to meet his little brother, promising to teach him everything when he gets older.

Watching your three kids together washes all of the tiredness away. The fear and anxiety you felt when delivering your youngest all goes at the back of your mind once you see Minjung hold little Minsu in his arms. Your first baby holding your youngest.

Minjee of course couldn't wait for her turn to hold the baby, you were more worried about her adjusting but she welcomed her younger sibling just as easy. She even promised she would share her cakepops with her baby brother.

All the long nights, sleepless weeks to months and the anxiety if you're doing the right thing everyday is worth it. For them, you'd do it over and over again without a doubt.

It's not always happy days of course. Some nights are more rough than others, recently Minsu hasn't been sleeping. Doctor said he might have colic, they did say it'll go away eventually and there's really not much you can do so you try to comfort him best way you can.

Mark has that mastered. Once Minsu fusses, he's already on his feet shushing his little boy back to sleep. Singing him the softest most random lullabies. Sometimes you find him just walking around the house with Minsu in his arms, telling him the most random stories

That is exactly how you found the two of them in the living room, you don't know how long Mark has been walking in circles in your living room. You can hear him telling Minsu about the many times he and Haechan got in an agreement. Laughing quietly when you hear the familiar story of that time Haechan ran over the mailbox while driving Mark's car.

Your laugh made Mark look up from the baby in his arms and over to you, a similar fond look on his face

"What a peculiar story to tell a baby"

"It puts him to sleep" Mark tells you

"I bet, imagine your dad rambling to you for hours" you joke, watching him walk in circles around the living room

"Why don't I take him, I already showered and ate breakfast"

"Its fine, love"

"Mark honey, I love you really but right now you need a shower. You're covered in baby vomit" you point at the huge stain on his shirt, you stand up from your seat to get Minsu from him

"I got this, you go get ready" you kiss him on the cheek, playfully pushing him towards the stairs

You take this time to get the surprise ready. It's father's day today and even though you agreed not to do anything grand since you just gave birth a month ago, you still wanted to do something for him.

When you're sure Minsu is asleep. You put him down on the baby rocker you have in the living room while you get the cake and flowers you secretly ordered.

It's still quiet in your bedroom upstairs so you assume Mark is still in the shower. You get your present for Mark and set it on the table also then you wait.

After a few minutes, you hear the footsteps down the stairs then Mark emerges with a towel in hand. "Hey can you dry wait woah what's this" he asks, a big smile forming on his face

"Happy Father's Day, my love"

"This is woah when did you do this, are these for me?" He takes the flowers to take a closer look

"Yep, I saw somewhere say men only receive flowers on their funeral and that made me so sad then i thought i never gave you flowers then i got sadder so i got you some"

He smiles at you, putting the flowers down so he could give you a big hug

"You're so cute, it's okay though. You gave me everything and more than I could ever ask for, just look at that" he juts his chin over Minsu who's still sleeping "How can I ever ask for more when I have all"

"You're cheesy"

"You love me"

"That I do. This life we have, I hope this isn't the only one. If there's a life after this, let's meet again okay?"

He looks right at you, listening to your words like he's hearing your wedding vows again. Then he leans down to capture your lips in his, like every kiss with you is the first.

"I'll love you in this one, and in all the other lives I'll live. I'm so so happy, there's really nothing else in this world I'd want more"

You kiss him again, smiling against his lips and hugging him tighter. The two of you only broke apart when you hear your baby cry

"Oh that's the hungry cry, you got it?" Mark says as he picks up Minsu and pass him over to you.

"Minjung gave me a little spiderman lego thing, I'll show it to you I forgot. Then he hugged me and said thank you for being a cool dad even though I don't know how to cook"

You let out a chuckle, imagining your boy saying it to his dad. "That's why I'm teaching him so one day his own kid can say he's a great cook" you joke

"Hey!"

"What about Jee?"

"She made me a card, I swear she used all the glitter she had. I love it, I really do. I also think I would never get rid of the glitter in my office so we might need to move"

While he's talking, you can see the fond look on his face as he talks about his children. You know how much Mark loves you, there isn't a day in your entire relationship that he forgot to tell you that.

But you know deep in you there's no one on this Earth he loves more than his kids, he'd do anything and everything for them.

And you love him so much for that.

[emotionalsupport-ljh]

Crushing!Jihoon

Fluff - Woozi x gn!reader

I have a crush on that boy, but what if he had a crush? 🤔

Word Count: 1k

˗ˋˏ ♡ ˎˊ˗ ────୨ৎ──── ˗ˋˏ ♡ ˎˊ˗

Jihoon cannot look you in the eyes. He usually is good about eye contact because he is very polite, but if he catches your eyes, he will quickly avert his gaze anywhere else. He still likes to talk to you, but he gets overwhelmed and lost in his thoughts if he’s looking straight into your eyes. Sometimes, he tries to look at your nose, so it will at least seem like he’s looking at you, but he still finds it too cute when you wrinkle it to laugh, so he ends up looking away anyway.

Jihoon rambles. A simple “Hello” will turn into him oversharing about his weekend, favorite show, or work. He cannot stop and your patient smile only encourages him to keep going. He eventually will realize and let a sentence trail off as his face turns red. He only stops being embarrassed when you reply with the same energy. You both end up yapping as much as possible, going from topic to topic almost randomly. Anyone listening in on the conversation would get lost because it’s like you have your own language together.

Jihoon can’t flirt. At all. It doesn’t come naturally to him. If he tries to be cute, he just gets embarrassed. He’s also afraid of being seen as a creep. You lightly flirt with him and he doesn’t notice. If you turn it up a little, he either misinterprets it or gets really awkward. He claims to be a direct person or the type to just be straight-forward and tell you, but, in reality, he will take his secret crush to the grave.

Literally everyone notices when Jihoon is crushing. He doesn’t realize how obvious he is when every other topic of conversation is you or what you like or what’s going on in your life. The other members joke about it quietly, but they make sure he doesn’t know or else it would end their favorite entertainment. They find it super fun to watch him get flustered around you then turn around like nothing happened. They even try to get him closer to you or leave you two alone together, just to eavesdrop or peek into the room to witness him freak out a little.

Jihoon writes a ton of love songs. They probably won’t see the light of day and some of them are just sentences in his notes app, but every beautiful melody he thinks of is inspired by you in some way (and some of the horny ones too). Fans would say that these types of songs were written with a pink glitter gel pen which is only true in vibes. He isn’t kicking his feet and writing in twirly handwriting, but his heart is whether he likes it or not.

Jihoon pretends to be nonchalant but remembers super specific things about you. Like, he’ll hand you your favorite obscure candy from your childhood that you told him about one time four months ago, and say something like “don’t make a big deal out of it” or “i just saw this and remembered”. In reality, it took him forever to find it and he wasn’t even sure if it was discontinued or not. He was about to look up a recipe for it to make it from scratch, but he found it, ordered it, then waited like a kid on Christmas for the package to arrive. He gives maximum effort for small details and pretends like it’s nothing.

It’s a lot easier to get Jihoon to open up than you think. He claims that he doesn’t want to burden anyone with his emotions when they are heavy, and he doesn’t always want to share his feelings so outwardly, but if you ask him like twice, he’ll tell you all about it. You can visibly see his shoulders un-tense when he tells you about his struggles. He trusts you and can’t keep anything from you. He’s also just bad at lying, so you can tell something is up with him almost immediately.

Jihoon doesn’t like physical touch BUT ONLY when he isn’t expecting it. He has to initiate the touching for it to be okay. You once tried to place your hand on his shoulder, but he shrugged it off instinctively. Later, he held onto your arm absent-mindedly. You learn to give him his space and wait for him to start anything physical. Once he does, you can reciprocate easily. He likes to put his arm behind you while sitting on the couch. You lean into him and he doesn’t flinch or move or anything. He touches you more often than anyone else which makes his crush on you so painfully obvious.

Jihoon has a Libra Venus in his astrology chart. From the moment he realized he liked you, he immediately envisioned your entire future together complete with four versions of a wedding, a life with kids, a life without kids, what your cat’s names would be, and every time he could tell the world that a song was dedicated to you. He thinks about different ways he could ask you on a date like he’s Doctor Strange looking into possible realities. It was easy for him to get a crush on you, and he can’t help but imagine it when he closes his eyes.

Jihoon is oblivious. You obviously like him and everyone can see it except for him. You always smile when he talks or laugh at his stupid jokes. You’re always caught up on his favorite anime (which you enjoy as well) just so that when he finally does watch them, you are ready to talk about it at a moment’s notice. You call him every night to make sure he’s wrapping up at work, and you offer to buy him food if he hasn’t eaten. You are one of the only reasons he takes a day off or goes outside to have fun when he’s not working. You’re always ready with a plan to hang out together. You want to be with him all the time. You stick to him like glue. And he just thinks that you're his really good friend. He can’t imagine that his crush likes him right back.

[seravphs]

ੈ♡˳·˖✶ — PORT MAFIA! DAZAI X FEM READER X PORT MAFIA! CHUUYA

You’ve been a fangirl of Double Black for years, successfully hiding your hobby right underneath your employers’ noses. When you’re finally ready to give up your immature infatuation after years of pining, Dazai finds out - and he’s ready to have a little fun. 

wc — 3.1k

tags — mdni, mild degradation, praise, delayed orgasms, dacryphilia, Chuuya doesn’t show up until the very end but he has imagined scenes

You’ve always held an attraction to the darker sides of life. How else do you end up working for the mafia if you don’t? It’s something your boss, Dazai, always said - you have to be crazy to be here. 

And you must be crazy, because Double Black, your direct superiors, are two even crazier bastards, and you’ve been getting yourself off to them every night, imagining it’s Dazai’s fingers in your dripping cunt, Chuuya’s chest pressed against your back. You want them so bad it’s made you sloppy and desperate, years of suppressed feelings bubbling to the surface whenever you catch sight of them. 

It doesn’t help that they are the way they are. Dazai is a flirt in all the worst ways, asking if you’d spread your legs for him on his desk when you return a report. You had squeaked and backed up into Chuuya, who had told him to fuck off and guided you to the door. His hands are surprisingly soft, not like that of a mafia grunt. 

That night, you had come three times with Dazai’s name on your lips and two more with Chuuya’s. 

It’s not like you see them often, being the assistant of an assistant of an assistant and so on, far, far down the line. You’re grateful for that, because you’re sure it’s it’s the only thing that kept you from making the dumb mistake you just made before now. 

Dazai plucks the journal from your hand, eyes narrowing. Venom drips from his voice as he snarls, “Is this mafia work? How many times do we have to remind everyone that we don’t leave a paper trail? Do I just have idiots working under me?” 

“Sir,” you stammer. “I-um.” Without thinking, you’ve already started reaching for the journal, your body on autopilot. You need it back. 

It’s not mafia work. It’s even worse. It’s your journal of Double Black’s endeavors, filled with your thoughts detailed in glitter pen next to cut outs of newspapers and pictures of them. Humiliating, the work of the much younger girl you’d been when you made it. You had found it under your bed, a relic from when you had first joined the mafia, and just your luck - Dazai had found it as you were about to throw it out. 

Fury is written all over his features as he sneers, “Did you just try to take this from me?” 

He flips it open. You’ve never seen Dazai surprised. Even then, his control over himself is immaculate. His eyes widen only a fraction, his breath hitches once. Then, he grins. That look can’t mean anything good for you. 

“Oh,” Dazai says. “How cute - you’re a fan.” 

You try to protest, but Dazai’s already made up his mind, and you’re caught up in his schemes. That’s how it always is - what Dazai wants, Dazai gets, and right now, he wants to play with you. 

“Do you like me?” Your mouth falls open and you shake your head, stammering, but your cheeks feel hot. Even if every action you made wasn’t a dead giveaway, this is Dazai. He would be able to tell even if you were the most accomplished liar in the world. 

“Oh, you cute little thing,” he purrs, watching you panic. “You do.” 

He stalks closer until your only options are moving forward into his chest or back into the wall. “Do you fuck yourself at night, thinking of me? What was it like? I can imagine you grinding down on one of your toys, frustrated because it’s not my cock in you. Aw, maybe you couldn’t come without imagining me.” 

Your eyes widen in embarrassment. “Sir! That’s not appropriate!” 

He taps your chest lightly with the journal, chuckling. You can tell what he thinks of you - some obsessed little girl who was new to the mafia, in over her head. “I think we’ve crossed that line a long time ago,” he says. “There’s a more important question to answer. Do you want it?” 

You wet your lips with your tongue, thinking, and his gaze snags on that enticing gloss over your lips. He’s watching you the way a lion watches prey, and you have to press your thighs together to alleviate the ache between your legs. 

He could be teasing. This could lead to way worse things. But you’ve been wanting this ever since you joined the Port Mafia, years of yearning. You can’t afford to give up this chance. 

“Yes,” you whimper underneath his searing gaze. “I want you.”

It’s embarrassing for him to be in your bedroom, seeing the true depth of your obsession with Double Black, but he had refused to take you to his. He outright laughs when he catches sight of a wanted poster you had stolen from a notice board and pinned up across from your bed. 

He doesn’t wait for you to give him directions, sitting down on your bed immediately. “Come here,” he says, patting his lap impatiently. 

Slowly, you make your way to him, thighs spread, one on either side of his legs, hovering over him. He flips your skirt up and coos at your pretty panties. One slender finger runs itself up that damp spot that’s already appeared on your the white fabric, and you shudder over him, gripping onto his shoulder for support. 

His other hand skims your leg, runs up your side, and tugs lightly at your shirt before he pulls it straight off of you, revealing your matching bra. He’s a tease, as you’d known he would be. 

He snaps the waistband of your panties against your skin, murmuring, “Did you plan this? Coordinated just for me? Oh,” he grins like the thought just occurred to him. “Did you mean for me to see that journal and come back here to fuck you until you cried?” 

“No,” you cry out, rocking on his fingers, desperate for the little amount of friction he’s giving you right now as he toys with your clit over the fabric. “Didn’t- mmh!” You curl over him, trying to get him to touch you more. 

He smirks. “Already? So easy for me, aren’t you, sweetheart?” 

He grabs you by the waist and pushes you down so you’re lying on your bed, back pressed against the silk sheets. The Port Mafia, at least, paid well. That’s why you can forgive him as he grabs a fistful of your underwear and rips it right off of you. It stings, but somehow, it feels nice at the same time. He smoothes a hand over your stomach, then dips his head. 

“I’ll buy you another set,” he promises, sucking fresh bruises into your thighs. Marking you up. You squeak as he bites down, then laves his tongue over it in apology. “I’ll buy you as many as you want if you’re a good girl for me.” 

You whimper, too strung out to think of a verbal response besides please, and I want you, Dazai, and, make me cum. 

You’re pliant as he nudges his way between your legs, but try to squirm away when he whistles at the mess he finds between your thighs. It’s humiliating, the way you’re spread for him, completely naked, and he’s still clothed. 

He slides two fingers through your folds, not entering you yet, but already his fingers are wet enough to shine in the dim light of your room. With his thumb, he circles your clit. It makes you jolt like you’ve hit a live wire. He does it again, and presses down harder. You don’t miss the way his eyes flash as he watches you thrash, the way his dress pants are straining against a bulge. 

He kisses you for the first time since he found you in the hallway with Double Black paraphernalia in your hand, hot tongue sliding against yours in a way that would make your knees weak if you weren’t already on your back for him. He kisses like you think he would fuck - with a raw intensity that leaves you dazed and wanting more. Not that you would ever stop wanting whatever he could give you.

Idly, he rubs your clit while sucking a hickey onto your neck, distracting you as two fingers enter you at once, a burn that has you crying out into his mouth. 

“Sh,” he says against your lips. “I know, I know. I’ll make you feel good in a minute, I promise.” 

He’s sweet as he preps you, fingers moving at an agonizing pace to avoid hurting you, but not giving you what you want, either. The pleasure of his thumb playing with your clit dulls the pain, but you’re left wondering - if this is just his fingers, what would his dick feel like?

He noses against your cheek. “Hey. What are you thinking about, baby? I haven’t even put my cock in you yet and you’re already out of it?” 

You like it when he calls you baby. He doesn’t seem like the type to dole out pet names, but he can’t help it when you clench around him like that every time he uses it. 

The noises of his fingers slipping in out of you, made louder by the sheer amount of slick dripping out of you, is embarrassing in a room quiet of anything but Dazai’s candy coated words and your panting. You fling an arm over your face, but just as fast, he pushes it back down over your head. He leaves his hand splayed over your wrist for just a minute, a silent warning not to move. 

You know he likes watching you squirm though, likes the way you fall apart beneath him and can’t control your own body. It’s okay. He’ll do it for you. 

“I want to see your face,” he says. “Don’t hide from me.” 

He rips a sob out of you as he settles into a steady pace. His hands are so pretty you think you could get yourself off just looking at them, elegant, pale, long fingers. He catches you watching them slip in and out of your cunt, transfixed by the sight of your own slick on him, a fantasy come to life. 

You can’t stop yourself from whimpering and trying to grind down against him, bucking your hips for more, more, more. Not even five minutes ago you thought you wouldn’t be able to take the stretch, but now you’re begging him to fuck you harder and deeper. 

He coos faux-sympathetically. “Aw, I know, baby. You want Chuuya here too, don’t you? Greedy little thing. My fingers just aren’t enough, huh?” 

He laughs when you whine and shake your head beneath him, tears sliding off your cheeks. With a glint in his eyes, he leans down to kiss one right off your nose. He’s always wondered how they would taste. 

You can’t hold yourself still beneath him, eyes rolling back in your head as you simultaneously try to grind yourself down against his fingers and back away. He makes the decision for you, spreading your already open legs wider so he can grind his palm against your clit. Your legs quiver as your mouth opens in a silent moan, every nerve on fire. You’re too blissed out to speak. He relishes in knowing how to play your body already. 

“Ah - ah,” he frowns condescendingly. “You’re such a squirmer. Is it because you want Chuuya to come hold you down while I fuck you?” 

You almost cum right then and there from the picture he paints in your mind. Chuuya’s pale hands pinning your wrists down so you can’t thrash away from Dazai and ruin your own orgasm, as you have been doing accidentally without the boys to take care of you. To control you the way you want to be controlled. 

Chuuya, his chest against your back as he spreads you wider for Dazai to take whatever he wants. Chuuya’s voice in your ear, calling you baby and sweetheart and his pretty little slut as Dazai makes you cum until you’re crying for them, makes you beg for it. Chuuya, rubbing your clit as Dazai sinks into your pretty cunt, making you cum before he’s even fully inside of you. Chuuya, transfixed by the way your pussy flutters around Dazai’s cock. 

“Please,” you beg, though it’s indistinguishable from the other noises you’re making. 

Dazai croons he pats your cheek. “Poor little thing, too stuffed full to talk? It’s okay, I already know what you need.” 

“Dazai,” you half moan. “Want you. And Chuuya.” 

“I wonder if you can come with just words,” he pants, pulling his belt off. “That’d be so hot. I think you can, baby, don’t you? You like my voice so much you’re creaming all over me and I haven’t even fucked you properly yet.” 

There must be something wrong with you, because otherwise why would that mocking tone of his send you over the edge? 

You agree mindlessly, as you have been to whatever’s he’s been saying for the past few minutes. Dazai must like his own voice as much as you do because he keeps up a stream of praise and light degradation and filthy words that make you clench as he finally pushes into you. 

He groans, throwing his head back so you can see his Adam’s apple bob. You’re entranced by it, the rough way he swallows. He feels your eyes on him and brings his gaze back to you. Sweaty and half clothed, somehow he manages to look like a conquering king rather than a debauched sinner. Such is Dazai’s nature. He makes even immorality look good. 

The prodigy Dazai never has to work hard for anything - less than half a minute and he has you seeing stars, slurring his name like a prayer to a god who’s answered in all the wrong ways. 

“Good girl,” he murmurs, “that’s right, take it all. Oh, you liked that. Don’t deny it,” he grins wickedly as you shake your head no, feeling embarrassment creep into you even though what more is there to be embarrassed of, when he’s already seen everything? “I felt you get wetter. I won’t be so nice when Chuuya’s here, but you’ll like it, I promise.” 

He fucks into you at a steady pace that has you clawing at the sheets, whining and digging your heels into his back. You want him as close as possible. You want him to fuck you right back into that mind blowing pleasure you had felt earlier, when your thoughts had gone blessedly silent in bliss, nothing but pleasure dancing on your fried nerves. 

You can feel it coming, even better than before, thighs trembling in anticipation. And then he rips it all away from you, the dull tingle of your high receding back into your veins. You’re whining about how much you want to cum before you can stop yourself, too far gone to care about things like embarrassment. It’s a look Dazai loves on you. 

“Dazai,” you whimper, less a complaint than a plea because he’s in charge and you’ve known it from the beginning.  

“Mm.” He smiles down at you, a wicked sort of slant of teeth that has you in the palm of his hand. “Call me Osamu and I might give you what you want.” 

“Osamu?” You try, hopeful. 

“Nah.” He flips you over so you’re straddling his hips, him still buried inside of you. “Earn it.” 

Slowly, you rise up until just the tip of his cock remains inside of you, and sink back down until you find your rhythm. He cups your ass, helping you along until you can feel it again, that tension in the pit of your stomach. 

A noise cuts through the sound of flesh on flesh. Dazai’s phone rings as you bounce on his cock, and he picks up. You freeze and stare at him incredulously. He makes an annoyed face at you and gestures for you to keep going, and impossibly, you do. 

You’ll listen to any command he gives you, on the battlefield and in the bedroom. 

But you don’t have to take this lying down. You grind against him in a way that has your breath stuttering, but you underestimated him. Dazai has no shame - he moans as loudly and freely as he wants, then continues his conversation, only hanging up when he’s finished. 

He grins up at you, his hands settling on your hips again, directing your movement. “I had your room moved next to mine. Oh, Chuuya’s there too, I guess.” 

At the sound of Chuuya’s name, your hips stutter, and Dazai takes the chance to regain control. He forces your body to open for him, and oh, he’s never looked so good as he does when he’s serious, thrusting against you with a litany of throaty moans. Every roll of his hips as you seeing stars as he brings you back to that place that makes you hot and cold all over. 

He’s doing it again. “No, Dazai!” You keen, pressing your heels against his back like you can keep him in, but he’s so much stronger than you. He raises an eyebrow. 

“No?” 

“Osamu, please,” you think you might crying. Over dick. The best you’ve ever had, but still. It’s a little hot and a little humiliating and you can’t think about anything but how much you need to cum on his cock right now. 

“Say ‘thank you for giving me your cock, Osamu,’” he commands, and you fall all over yourself to comply even when he shoves his fingers in your mouth, making you drool and slur around them. 

“Than- thank you for - for giving me your -“ you squeal out as he bucks his hips up into you. “Cock! Osamu, fuck, thank you, thank you, pleaseiwantit-“

“Didn’t need to say all that,” he says, sly smirk gracing his lips again as he finally, finally, slips his hand between your legs. All it takes is one little brush of his fingers against your sore clit and you’re cumming for him, body locking in place as your back arches. 

“Fuck,” he grunts. “Can’t even move when your cunt’s so tight.” But you can’t hear him, pussy still spasming around him like you’re trying to draw him in. 

“Hello?” Chuuya’s annoyed voice accompanies the heavy knocking at your door. “Dazai, I swear to god, you dumb mackerel, if you sent me on another wild goose chase I’ll rip your fucking head off!” 

The thumping gets louder, as if he’s trying to break the door down. With his strength, it’s only a matter of time, too. You give Dazai a wide eyed look of panic, but he’s smiling, pushing his hair, damp with sweat, out of his eyes. 

“Well?” Dazai grins. “You going to answer him, baby?” 

[eden-writes-stuff]

Hi, I hope you're doing well!

I was wondering if you could write something about Luna and Harry coming up with a plan for their moms to fall in love, and for they can be siblings.

It's an idea I've had for a while and I think it's really fun.

OMG I love this idea. So cute!

Tags: fluff, comfort, kids being silly, setup, Regulus being a great parent / uncle side ships: wolfstar, jegulus

Luna spread the paper on the couch table and placed her crayons beside it.

"Operation: bring Pandora and Lily together so we can be siblings - BPALTSWCBS." 

Harry pulled out his glitter pens. "I did my research over last week."

Research, in this case, being a Romance-movie-marathon with his uncles over the weekend. They had very much supported him when he'd confided in them and told them their plan. Or at least the general idea which they needed the plan for. 

 "Great. Tell me what you've learned." She pulled the cap off of one of the glitter gels and got ready to write.

"Well, most of them were with a man and a woman, but I think it works either way", he started and Luna nodded. "So, there was one where they were working on a project together and then they got locked in at their office and had to cuddle to keep warm." "But our moms don't work together." Harry hesitated for a moment. "we could get them to organise your birthday party together?" Luna thought about it, then wrote it down.

"There was another one with two men where they got locked in together in a room and then some woman threatened their lives unless they kiss." The six-year-old grinned and put it above the other idea.

"For the next one we'd have to wait until yule, but maybe you can convince your grandparents to ask your mum if she has found someone yet and then she freaks out and brings my mum as a fake date, so they stop annoying her." "She doesn't really care about their opinions so that probably won't work..."

"Alright. The one where the woman wants to get married before her sister is also out because aunt Petunia is already married..." "So our only option to make them be happy together is to threaten their lives?", Luna summarised. "Yeah, I think so."

"Great. But we need to make them believe it. Maybe we could get a dragon from somewhere." "Or a serial killer. Hey, papa." Harry looked up from their plan on the table, as Regulus walked in. "What do you need a serial killer for, mon coeur?", he asked, one eyebrow raised.

Harry and Luna shared a glance. "You need to promise not to tell anyone. This is a top-secret mission." Harry leaned in a bit and Regulus nodded slowly. "We're trying to get mom to go out with Panda, so they fall in love and get married and then we can be siblings", he half-whispered. 

"But we're not sure, how to do it yet. Our best idea is to threaten their lives so that they kiss", Luna added, shrugging.

Regulus nodded. It was best not to question a child's logic, not to mention that it sounded like something that might actually work if executed properly. Plus, as Pandora's confidante, he knew that she had fancied the redhead since they were teenagers.

Harry looked up at him. "How did you and dad get together?" The pale man attempted to answer a few times, but eventually just shook his head. "I think that's a story for another time. I do have an idea, however. Do you want to hear it?" They both nodded excitedly.

"Maybe you need to approach it from the other side. You tell them you want to spend a sibling-day with your favourite moms. You know, go to the park, have a movie night... That way you force them to spend time together and see how adorable you two are."

The children shared a few looks. "But then we don't get to threaten their lives..." "We can still do that if plan A doesn't work." "Hmmm.... okay."

Luna wrote it on the paper with a crayon. "Thank you, uncle Reggie. You can leave now. We need to work out the details."

[always-andromeda]

aaaAAA valentines prompts are here!! (⁠≧⁠▽⁠≦⁠) weeee please spare some white chocolate truffle for love of my life dwayne? thank you dearest, compliments to the chef (⁠ ⁠˘⁠ ⁠³⁠˘⁠)⁠♥

– 𝐋𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐓𝐢𝐦𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐒𝐨𝐜𝐢𝐚𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐦

𝐃𝐰𝐚𝐲𝐧𝐞 𝐇𝐨𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐱 𝐆𝐍!𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: aHH okay this was super cute!! I hope you enjoy this one, anon!! also lmao, yes, the title is a song. it's from Yellow House and it always reminds me of Dwayne. <3

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: Dwayne is aged up to be high school senior, pure fluff, bits of Dwayne being a little pessimistic guy, nothing else I can think of!

First period hadn't even started yet and already you could tell that Dwayne was itching for the final bell. He sighed, folding his hands together and resting his chin on top of them. You watched him peer out from under his curtain of dark hair at a few students around you both exchanging cards, candies, and little stuffed toys. 

"Doing okay there, Dwayne?" you asked as you unloaded your textbook and your binder.

He threw you a sideways glance and replied blankly, "I'm a ray of sunshine." Whatever modicum of patience he usually had in school was drained entirely by Valentine's Day.

"Oh, yeah. You're looking especially chipper today."

This time, Dwayne turned to look at you fully with his brow furrowed.

"It's a joke."

"Have you seen what's been going on today?"

"Uh, yeah, it's a holiday," you shrugged.

"It's bullshit. It's an excuse for fucking candy and card companies to make a killing," he sneered. "Because if you don't buy your boyfriend or girlfriend a stupid piece of paper that says 'I love you' then you're obviously a bad person, right?"

You scoffed, "Not exactly."

That earned another scowl from Dwayne.

"Listen, I get what you mean. It can be superficial and overbearing sometimes, I guess." You struggled to conjure the right words to explain yourself in a way that Dwayne would understand, "But...it's nice sometimes, ya know? It's nice to have someone show that they thought about you."

"Please," Dwayne dismissed. "It's not about thought or care. It's all...bullshit social transactions that no one is gonna give a shit about after we graduate anyways. It's just...dumb."

Placing a hand over the top of your binder defensively, the more Dwayne spoke, the more you found a lump forming in your throat. It made it even harder to speak as you choked out, "Dumb?"

"Yeah. And...gross," he huffed with an air of stubbornness. He'd never been particularly fond of the holiday; the unnecessary drama of couples asking each other to be their Valentine and the gossip that came from rejections for days afterwards. But...you thought...

With a new wave of frustration, you flipped open the cover of your binder and pulled a card out from the inside flap. You slid it across the top of the table in Dwayne's direction. "Then there's a stupid card for you, Dwayne. Happy Valentine's Day," you added bitterly.

Dwayne froze. Already, the cover threw him off. There was the haunting phrase of the day written out in your handwriting and above it, a drawing of a bouquet of flowers in glitter gel pens. Slowly, he opened the card, finding more of your handwriting hiding inside.

I know this is super cliche. And you're probably going to roll your eyes at me when you read this. Promise me you won't hate me too much. Or at least promise me you'll spare me the embarrassment and forget this immediately after you read it. I just had to try at least once. But I really like you. Will you be my Valentine?

With your head hidden in your folded arms, you could only guess what you and Dwayne looked like to the rest of your classmates. Already, you were anticipating how that scene would get spun. Everyone talked about how you and Dwayne were bound to end up together, seeing as you're one of the only people that would willingly hang around with the reclusive guy. And one of the only people that he would actually let hang around him.

Your first thought after that was to think about Dwayne. He didn't like being the center of attention. Being talked about like this would be the most aggravating thing in the world. And god, it frustrated you that even when he was being a jerk, you still worried about him.

Then you felt a poke on your shoulder. You raised your head and found Dwayne, still looking at the card and tracing the flowers on the cover. But this time his hand was on the table, open with his palm facing up. Inviting you to grab it. Which you do, quickly.

"I'm sorry for what I said," he muttered.

You sniffed softly. "That's okay."

"I like the card."

"Thanks."

“And I'll be–" Dwayne paused. "I'll be your Valentine."

The exhilaration inside you flared so intensely that you couldn't help but squeeze his hand in return. And Dwayne also couldn't help the tiny smile that formed on his lips when he felt the warmth of your sweaty hand enveloping his. Maybe both of you could be right about Valentine's Day. It was gross. But...nice. Very nice.

[ginneke]

Instincts

(aka, what can be found in the heart, or somewhere like it).

A @flashfictionfridayofficial promptfic.

--

When I first had an inkling of this idea, it was meant to be Link POV of a missing scene from the start of ch3 of Seed of Song. Then Revali stole it, and this prompt got me to finally write it.

(This becomes infinitely funnier after @avenin was doodling sleep-deprived Revali + chick earlier this evening as well. Yes we were watching the same osprey livestream what of it.)

--

The fire crackles and spits, launching red-hot embers into empty space.

Eyes closed, Revali imagines himself back at his Flight Range—comfortably alone and resting, for a little while, just like this: listening to the lapping tongues of the fire and the murmurs of a distant wind...

Imagination only serves to illuminate the utter futility of his wish to be anywhere else. This place is nothing like the Flight Range. The air is much too stuffy; the barracks' stone walls are stifling, and the space doesn't breathe as a building ought. Even the faint whisper of a breeze through the open window does little to keep the suffocating closeness at bay.

The sounds are all wrong, as well: no companionable creak of a hammock-rope overhead; no faint, distant hum of Vah Medoh turning watchful circles through the sky above him.

Instead there's a faint, incessent scratching sound. It goes on for a long, long time.

No, this place is nothing at all like his Flight Range. He is caged in, confined, and is altogether much too warm. He desperately wants to be rid of it. Revali struggles to quash his roiling distaste for being forced into such close quarters with another person. He cannot entirely succeed. It's like standing near an improperly-stored Shock Arrow, an unpleasant prickling that sparks under his skin and turns the tips of his feathers to barbs, leaving him battling the urge to get as far away as he can—

As if sensing the turn of his thoughts, the hatchling startles awake.

Revali cracks open one eye and cranes his head to study it. It doesn't look to be hungry, nor in any kind of significant distress. It roots around in blind, listless confusion, still coming to terms with the world outside its eggshell.

This fragile helpless thing wouldn't have survived a day without a fellow Rito's care. Revali reminds himself it's for the best that he's here, and that its wellbeing hasn't been left to the clumsy, haphazard efforts of a Hylian... but even for him, this is unfamiliar territory. He's largely ignorant of what its care entails. The best he can hope for is to keep the hatchling alive until it can become somebody else's problem.

A disquietening thought, and one which stirs bleak memories better left forgotten.

Revali sighs, repositions the chick so that it is better covered by his folded wing, and closes his eyes once more, chasing the illusion of rest. It remains elusive.

And that damnable scratching won't cease. It nudges at the edge of his hearing, incessant: scrape, scratch, scrape.

Under normal circumstances, the scratch of a metal nib against paper would be a sound familiar enough to be comforting. Revali reaches for the comfort of pen and ink often enough. Today, though, it only makes him long for his diary and the chance to sort through his jumbled, tumultuous thoughts.

He cracks open an eye, affixing his ire on the faint silhouette sat just in front of the hearth. "Would it be so impossible for you to cease that racket?"

The scratch of Link's pen pauses mid-motion. His curious sense of industry doesn't bear the cadence of a letter. The sounds are too elongated for script. Revali finds that disconcerting; he has no idea what Link is up to. He doesn't entirely want to know; only the thought that Link might be reporting back on the root cause of their delay gives him any reason to wonder...

Link's downcast eyes glitter lowly in the light. Revali bristles, certain that it's just a ruse.

"What, pray tell, are you looking at?"

At least Link has the decency of looking somewhat abashed—or whatever is meant to pass for embarrassment on those dull, expressionless features. He puts the pen down in an unhurried motion, blows on the paper—scattering a fine layer of dust in the process—and stoppers up his ink. Only then does he lift his head properly.

"Nothing," he insists.

Once, the sound of Link speaking would have been a novelty — something he never expected to hear. The sporadic proof that he can, and always could, is more jarring than it ought to be. Revali doesn't know what to make of this newfound willingness to...

He's torn away from that thought by the chick, which jerks awake with a high-pitched squeak of distress. The sound hooks into Revali's chest, lodging behind his heart and tugging until he forgets all else. He lowers his head to the hapless infant, trying to determine what might be wrong...

In the corner of his vision, the fire flares. Revali notices it with vague detachment. It's immaterial: the thing that matters most is the chick and whatever is causing it distress. Is it warm enough? too warm? hungry? He doesn't know, and the lack of certainty confounds and frustrates him.

"Here," Link mumbles, passing across the remains of the duck he'd caught earlier.

At that point, it becomes easy to fall back into a rhythm of trying, and trying again, to coax the chick into whatever instincts are driving it. (Revali is more than a little perturbed by the evidence of his own instincts on display.) He doesn't remember what it was like to be an infant as young as this; he has no way of recalling how she managed. If only he could ask. Revali isn't coping at all. He can't even hunt for himself; there's no way he could be the sole provider and guardian of a chick. As galling and infuriating as his presence is, it cannot be denied that Link's insistence on staying has accomplished some good...

—

Revali jolts awake into a night that's almost silent. He listens out for any disturbance. Only the low hum of the Flight Range answers. The murmur of the wind cannot drive the sense of solitude away; it can't fill the hollowed-out void in his chest.

[sourcherryandsprinkles]

Hello can you do the prompt 22. ‘’How can you be so blind?’’ with Ajax Petropolus please :)

—

As the tradition followed, cards were distributed to respective students on Valentine's Day morning. Reactions varying from glee to surprise, confusion and disappointment.

You took a subtle glance at Ajax, watching him opening his card. By the surprise on his face, he was not expecting anything. A shy smile curled on his lips as he read the message, followed by a frown when unable to find the identity of the writer. He showed it to Xavier, whispering something, but the psychic shrugged.

‘’Maybe it’s Enid? The paper is pink and written in sparkly gel-pen,’’ you heard Xavier say during lunch. 

He and Ajax were sitting together in the quad two tables behind you and you could hear their conversations almost perfectly. 

‘’Enid?’’ Ajax sounded unsure. ‘’I don’t know…’’

‘’Or the girl who sits behind you in history? Gorgons are shy. Maybe that’s why she didn’t sign her name.’’

‘’Kendra? That's a good guess!’’

You sighed sadly.

Later in werewolf reproduction class, Ajax sat at his usual seat beside you and slipped you the mysterious card. You thought he had finally figured it out that it was from you, but ended up disappointed the moment he opened his mouth.

‘’Y/N? You’re a girl, right?’’

You rolled your eyes as you took your textbook and opened it to the page indicated on the chalkboard. ‘’According to my birth certificate, yes,’’ you replied with a chuckle.

‘’It’s gonna sound weird but, could you help me decipher who wrote this valentine?’’

Your face dropped, just like your hopes of Ajax reciprocating your feelings. 

You faked a smile. ‘’Sure.’’

‘’Xavier thinks it’s Enid, but she put glitter in all the cards she sent this year and this one didn’t have any. You sit beside Kendra in Botany class, right? Do you recognize her handwriting?’’

Boys are so dumb, you decided as you made your way to your dorm to scream into your pillow. Your roommate was on a date with some siren so no one would hear your laments or see you ugly crying over a dumb boy.

Ajax was cute and clueless, but his cluelessness was making you want to put magnifying glasses over his pretty brown eyes so he could see all the hints you've been dropping about your feelings for him. You even tried to ask him out on a date a few times, but he didn't get that you wanted to do that activity with him — only him. 

You took a turn to take the stairs that would get you to Ophelia hall and collided with the one person you didn’t want to see.

‘’Sorry!’’ Ajax quickly apologized although you were the one not looking where you were going, too caught up in your frustrations. His hands grabbed your arm before you could kiss the floor.

If you hadn’t been so upset, you would have internally screamed at this rom-com-esque moment.

‘’I…I’m avoiding Bianca. She’s looking for me,’’ he said before you asked any questions.

You drew your eyebrows together in confusion. ‘’Bianca is your...mystery valentine?’’

‘’No!’’ Ajax immediately corrected you, holding his hand. ‘’God, no. She’s looking for Xavier. Not me.’’ He shook his head, laughing awkwardly at the thought of going on a date with Bianca Barclay. She was out of his league and not at all his type. ‘’She tried to make plans with him in hopes to get back together, but he’s not interested in rekindling and went hiding in his art shed. Please, do not tell Bianca where he is.’’

‘’His secret is safe,’’ you promised. ‘’Have you found who your mystery valentine is?’’ You tried to conceal your heartache and kept your voice casual. 

He shook his head, visibly disappointed. ‘’No. Unfortunately.’’ 

The pink card was peaking from his blazer pocket, right over his heart. It almost made you smile.

‘’I even asked Enid, but she didn't—’’ 

‘’How can you be so blind?’’ you asked out of frustration, the words slipping from your mouth. ‘’It was me who sent you that card. Me. Not Enid. Not the gorgon girl sitting behind you in history. Me.’’

You held your breath, bracing yourself for having your heart crushed, but that's not what happened.

‘’Why didn’t you say anything?’’ Ajax asked, his lips curling into a soft smile, feeling a huge weight was lifted off his shoulders.

‘’I tried — many times —, but you never got the hints. I even used a strawberry scented gel-pen because I know you love strawberries.’’

‘’That's what smelled so good every time I opened the card!‘’

You laughed nervously.

‘’Do you...do you want to go for a walk? It's a lame date, but curfew is in an hour so there's not much to do.‘’

You nodded and Ajax took your hand in his, smiling.

—

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[joonlaksme]

October 17th

Park Jimin x Camboy

Contains: Gender Neutral Reader

Word count: 700+

Kinktober Masterlist

-

“Today, I wanted to show you these…things I found.” Jimin starts buttoning down his shirt. “For some reason, you really wanted to see my chest so I worked really hard to make it look pretty for you.”

Covering his nipples are heart shaped pasties that are a nice shade of red. All over the rest of his chest and stomach is covered in red glitter. It’s a light bringer in person than on camera but his viewers are going crazy. Men, women, and everyone in between are in love with everything Jimin but this is the first time in his 2 year long camboy career that he’s shown his chest.

“What should we do today? Any suggestions?” He leans in closer to his monitor and reads the fast messages. “Take them off? I don’t think so. I’m a bit nervous about that.” Jimin is lying but he enjoys slowly revealing himself to his fans rather than just giving them what they want. It keeps them coming back for more, pointing out a new slither of skin when they see it.

Jimin wiggles down his shorts a bit along with his underwear, his cock hitting his glitter dusted stomach. “I’ve been actually hard for a bit. I had this really…interesting dream.”

And immediately his viewers ask what it was about.

Immediately his imagination flashes with thoughts about you. Guilty, he takes his cock into his hand and strokes it, lips subtly mouthing your name before he starts telling the details of his wet dream.

“They were wearing this…really eye catching black dress. A lot of it was blurry and we weren’t even in a fancy place or a club or anything like that. We were in my room. They were dressed for me, I think.” He huffs out. “They never said a thing the whole time. They just looked at me…like they were ready to devour me.”

Jimin sits back in his chair, closing his eyes to relive and soak in his memories. He could remember this particular dream feeling and looking more realistic than his typical nonsensical ones. Edges were blurry but you were there in complete detail. “I felt weighted, too. Like I had to get on my knees.”

He opens his eyes again, this time they’re glossy. He glances at this chat and chuckles. They’re begging for him to get to the best part already, anticipating this story and what exactly had Park Jimin hard all day.

“They never took off any of their clothes but they pushed me on my bed. I remember them…” and he exhales.

He’s already close at the thought of what you did next. You, his coworker at his boring office job. His job where no one knows his secret camboy side work. Why he’s able to afford all these name brands, and the apartment he lives in at his age.

No one knew expect for you. You never held this knowledge over his head but you did look at him in a different way. You flirted with him and bent over to pick up pens a little too often. You knew the way it affected him so you would smirk and blow a kiss his way. He hasn’t been able to stop thinking about you these past few days.

He hopes you’re watching right now.

Jimin cums in his hands before he can finish his story, quickly apologizing to his viewers. His cheeks are flamed pink with embarrassment. He could usually last long than that but today seems to be the exception. For the duration of the stream, after cleaning up, he spends the last five minutes conversing and making promises to edge in his next one.

He says bye with his lips pursed and then lays back on his chair with a sigh. What a mess, both literally and figuratively. Then he hears his phone go off in a call. It’s not often that people call him so it peaks his interest and he’s standing up and grabbing his phone from his carefully crafted, wooden bookshelf. You’re calling him.

He doesn’t hesitate to answer but maybe he should have. “He-“ His voice cracks and he clears his throat, “Hello?”

There’s silence at first. A thick silence. But then you’re telling him your address very slowly. You tell him to be there as fast as he can. You finish the call by saying that you’d like to hear him finish his story. Jimin lips part but then he’s rushing to shove his wallet, phone, and keys in his pockets.

He’s so glad you knew he was thinking about you.

-

All likes, reblogs, and comment feedback are appreciated for stories like this. Friendly reminder that reblogs spread more than likes!

All rights are reserved © joonlaksme

[sashkapi]

Do you have an character design about Kendall’s unseen older sister? And do you have any headcanons about her also?

I had designed her quite a while ago and apparently forgot to post. Sowwy QmQ

Linda "Linnie" Perkins :)

She is based on a bg character from "Spelling Bee", and according to Sandro we did see Linnie as a background character so you bet my ass was onto every blonde teen girl in the show jfjxjkdnvkjdv

AW YEAH, HEADCANON TIME

1. She used to be a cheerleader. But then her team found out she cheated on her initiation and got kicked out. (She immediately told a loser she had to date that they would be fake dating. She still didn't tell him about the final step of initiation, so Linnie was being just as cruel as cheerleaders.)

2. After getting kicked out, she actually joined the girl's soccer team and still does gymnastics. Girl genuinely enjoys sports.

3. Just like Brad with Kick, Linnie bullies Kendall, although she doesn't get "physical" often. Linnie would rather get some rats into Kendall's room or pour glue in her shampoo than pulling her hair.

As a note: Linnie still absolutely would pull Kendall's hair. Pictured above.

4. She calls Brad "Car-crash". The first time they actually talked was when Linnie was getting her driver's license and Brad was redoing the test for his. Now guess how Brad's test went.

5. She and Brad are sorta friends. Yes, Brad used to hit on her, but after learning that she used to be a cheerleader he kinda backed out (Kelly trauma). Linnie, of course, wasn't interested in him at all, but their shared "interest" in bullying their younger siblings made them unlikely friends. 

Or "Girlboss adopts a Boyloser"

(Brad still hits on her from time to time. The answer is always no.)

6. Already mentioned in my Kendall headcanons, but Linnie also has a cat named "Gretel". While Kendall dots on Hansel and frequently calls her nice names, Linnie treats Gretel like "Oh lawd, here comes that big fat idiot! Who's a big fat idiot? You are! Who has no thoughts in that little skull of yours? You have!". She does it lovingly of course. She loves Gretel.

7. The reason Kendall was getting a soccer ball in "Tattler's tale"? It wasn't hers, it was Linnie's. Kendall and Linnie used to play soccer in their backyard when they were younger, something they don't do anymore due to their strained relationship. Kendall is quite sentimental girl deep down, she didn't want something that has such good memories connected to it getting lost.

Linnie knows that Kendall got that ball back and while she didn't say anything - she really appreciated it.

Got her pink glitter pen in secret as a thanks.

8. Linnie doesn't have a "posse". She has her soccer team. That is kinda like her posse. After cheerleading and some "practice" when she used to play with Kendall - becoming an ace on a field didn't take long for her.

She is genuinely friends with her teammates tho.

9. She is actually really strong. Physically. Even by athletic standards. She can easily pick up several people without breaking a sweat.

After thinking that she is among the strongest people in her school (and later college) - witnessing Gunther's strength made her low-key terrified of him. ("Like wdym he can pick up several BULLS?! AND FREELY RUN WITH THEM?!?!")

10. Yes, she is beefing with Kelly now. Kelly is the one who found out about her initiation cheating and is the reason Linnie got kicked out from the cheerleading squad after all.

Brad 🤝 Linnie   Fuck Kelly

11. One of her ways to bully Kendall is to ruin her clothes. The reason Kendall's pink-green sweaters are fine? "No matter what I do, I can not ruin those ugly sweaters even more"

12. Linnie knew about Kendall's crush on Kick for a while. She didn't use it in her bullying because she has standards.

And she kinda just doesn't care.

13. Linnie go-to derogatory nickname for Kendall is "sissy". Just in case Kendall tries to snitch like "she calls me names!" to their dad, Linnie can spin it as "Oh my silly sis! I was calling you sis, you silly!"

14. Once Kick and Kendall started dating, Linnie extended her bullying onto Kick too. Only when the two of them are together, tho. Linnie isn't interested in picking on Kick alone, so she just ignores him (unless she's with Brad, in which case she just passively helps older Buttowski).

Don't ask Kick and Kendall how many of their dates were ruined by their older siblings.

15. Additionally, to the previous one: Linnie calls Kick "Pipsqueak" (Perkins' "call Kick "Kick"" challenge: impossible)

[writingpiecesak]

Paying Attention

Summary: You’re sort of a chatter box to anyone that will listen. You ramble about a million different things that sometimes doesn’t even relate to one another. So while trying to tell a story that actually means something, you fall on deaf ears. Not to Bakugou though.

“Then! A huge boulder of cement was flying through the air and I was just about to use my quirk to stop it when–guys?”

As I sat there at my desk looking at my four friends talk amongst themselves I couldn’t help but feel a tinge of disappointment. It seemed like my friends didn’t care nor pay mind to what I was saying. I do talk a lot and usually it’s babbling like a baboon when I’m nervous but this near death experience was something I wanted to share. To have a listener or someone try to relate?

Little did I know, amidst the dying words in my throat, a silent listener lurked.

“And then what?”

The class bully, known for his cruel tricks and unkind demeanor, had surreptitiously become an unintended audience for my tale. An unexpected twist, indeed. The realization hit me like a gust of wind, a mix of surprise and nervousness.

“You were listening?”

“Hm. You’re too chatty to ignore, continue.”

While I had always yearned for a captivated audience that hung on my every word, having the class bully as my solitary listener posed a peculiar challenge. But there was something intriguing about this unexpected observer. Maybe beneath his intimidating facade lay a flicker of humanity that craved connection, longing for a story to whisk him away from his own reality. Or perhaps it was simply his primal instinct, reveling in the enjoyment derived from others' discomfort.

Regardless of his motivations, the atmosphere in the classroom suddenly shifted. With every passing moment, the realization that Katsuki Bakugou was listening painted my narrative with a newfound weight. I couldn't ignore his presence as he nonchalantly twiddled with his pen, avoiding eye contact with me. It fueled a surge of adrenaline within me, pushing me to deliver a tale that transcended mere words.

As my story continued, I found myself entwined in a delicate dance of words. Each sentence was carefully crafted, every detail woven with precision to capture their attention. The desperate need to keep my sole listener engaged unlocked a previously untapped reserve of creativity within me. It was as if my words formed a bridge, attempting to connect with a person who usually seemed so disconnected from the world around them.

Time ceased to exist in those moments. As the story unfolded, Katsuki’s stonewall expression softened ever so slightly. A twinkle of curiosity glittered in their eyes, silently urging me to forge ahead. The power dynamics within the classroom momentarily shattered, subverted by the wonder of storytelling.

And in that tiny window of respite, as I held Katsuki’s attention captive, an unspoken connection was established. It was a shared moment, a testament to the transcendental power of narratives. The balance of power may have tilted, if only for a short while, and in that fleeting instance, I could almost see Katsuki’s vulnerability lurking beneath their hardened exterior.

As I concluded my tale, a surprisingly genuine smile crept across his face. In that singular moment, the silent bond formed through storytelling revealed that even the most unexpected listeners, with their hidden depths and guarded hearts, could be swayed by the magic crafted within the words we choose to share.

“And after all that, can you believe it that I made it to class on time!”

“I believe it, mousy. Tell me more.”

“More what? That’s the whole story.” I start taking out my notebook just to doodle to make time pass until next class.

“Tell me another story.” He leaned back in his chair.

“You’ll listen?” I teased.

“I’m always listening.”

[kazoosandfannypacks]

summary: when an apollo camper falls for an aphrodite camper, heart-shaped cough drops and haikus written with glitter gel pens aren't too far behind. word count: 6815 words a/n: it started as a simple headcanon. apollo's kid falling for aphrodite's. i told a few friends on discord about it, and they ate the idea up so much, i knew i had to write something about them. this story is about two ocs, but you'll see a few familiar faces in here too, and if you're paying close enough attention to context clues, you can figure out where eva and kodi's story fits in within the pjo timeline. taglist: @poptart-cat-78 @fynn-arcana @babsbabbles @laughingphoenixleader {if you’d like to be added to my halfblood 5&1 taglist/pjo taglist, let me know!}

also on ao3!

five times it paid to know an apollo boy (and one time being an aphrodite girl paid off too)

~eva's first summer~

 Eva wasn't surprised that, in a camp with archery, flying pegasi, and lava in the dish pit as well as on the climbing wall, she'd gotten herself hurt within her first week at Camp Half-Blood. 

 But, although she hadn't sat down and considered all the possible injuries available to her at Camp, if she had, getting a papercut while opening a chocolate bar for s'mores wouldn't've exactly made the list.

 And yet, even in the dim lighting of the camp's bonfire, she could see very clearly the scratch on her thumb.

 "That kind of injury takes some serious skill," someone said.

 She couldn't see his face in the low lighting by the bonfire, but she saw him hold something out to her.

 "Need a band-aid?"

 "Thanks," Eva said. She took it from him and unwrapped it.

 By the time the bandage was around her thumb, the stranger had disappeared into the crowd, and she shoved the wrapping into her pocket.

 She'd almost forgotten that moment had happened by the time she got back to her cabin. But now that she looked at it in the light, she saw that the band-aid was a shade of hot pink— her favorite color, and the same color as the accessories she'd worn with her Camp Half-Blood t-shirt that day.

~eva's first summer~

 When Eva was a little girl, she always looked forward to Valentine's Day. It made more sense now, looking back on it after her demigod diagnosis, why her decorated shoebox mailbox was always filled to the brim with heart-shaped lollipops, tiny treasures, and cards with cartoon character puns on them. Of course Aphrodite's daughter would attract a lot of attention from her classmates.

 Not long after she settled into camp, she realized Cabin 10 was one giant Valentine's shoebox.  Eva was used to coming back to the cabin each evening and seeing her sisters' bunks surrounded by flowers and chocolates and her brothers' bunks cluttered with assorted candies and letters that smelled like perfume. As long as there were Aphrodite kids who treasured cheap attempts to buy their affection, there would be kids from the other cabins more than willing to oblige them.

 But Eva didn't get gifts like that, at least, not as much as her siblings. She spent a lot of that first summer reminding herself that she was still the youngest in the cabin, and that her time to shine would come soon enough.

 In the meantime, though, she'd just have to get used to all the flowers. She had just the luck of having a bunk next to Silena— kind-hearted, beautiful Silena, who could scarcely glance in a boy's direction without him falling for her. Eva soon found out that where there were boys falling for you, there were flowers, and where there were flowers, there were allergies, and she figured the best way to dispel the issue quietly was to stop by Cabin 7.

 A normal camp would have a camp nurse, maybe a nurse's assistant on staff, and wouldn't be much more than a phone call away from the nearest hospital. Camp Half-Blood's medical treatments pretty much amounted to "tell someone at Cabin 7 what's wrong, and if they can't patch you up, well, there's not much a mortal doctor could do for you anyways."

~💘~

 As Eva approached the cabin, she noticed there were several chains by the door, each one with a different label underneath.

 "PULL FOR URGENT EMERGENCY"

 "PULL FOR IMPALEMENT"

 "PULL FOR PRANK-RELATED INJURY"

 "PULL FOR WALK-IN CONSULTATION"

 That last one sounded the most like what she needed, so she pulled that chain and heard a chime go off in the cabin.

 "I'll be out in a second," a voice said, and a moment later the door opened to a blonde boy, not much older than Eva, whose eyes widened when he saw her.

 "Oh my gosh, are you alright?" he asked, with so much concern on his face she might as well have been actively on fire.

 "Yeah," Eva wrinkled her nose, "just a slight problem I was hoping someone could help me with."

 "Oh, good," he said, "I, uh, what can I do for you?"

 She hesitated a moment, not sure what would happen if word got out that Aphrodite's new daughter was allergic to flowers.

 "Can you keep a secret?"

 "Anything for you," he said, then coughed so hard Eva thought that he might need a doctor, "I mean, uh, of course."

 "I found out I'm allergic to flowers," Eva whispered, "and Drew said that if I wake her up with my coughing one more time, I'm gonna be the one who needs beauty sleep."

 "That's perfect!" the boy said.

 "My allergy is perfect?" Eva asked.

 "No, no," he said, "I have just the thing. Don't go away!"

 He scurried back into the cabin, and about a minute later he came back with a bottle and a cloth pouch.

 "These will help the allergy," he handed her the bottle, "take one each night before bed, and you should be cough free. But, just in case!' 

 He handed her the pouch as well and she opened it to see several heart shaped lollipops.

 "What are these?"

 "Newest breakthrough in Cabin 7 medicine," he said, "making your own blend of cough drops is almost a rite of passage, but I've turned the science into an art form."

 Eva held one up and sniffed it. "You made cough drops into lollipops?"

 "Yeah," he said.

 "Why?"

 "Why not?"

 They stood in silence for an awkward moment.

 "I gotta go," Eva said, "but thanks for everything."

 "You're welcome," he said.

 She walked away, slightly confused and highly appreciative, though the whole of the moment was soon lost in the hubbub of demigod adventures.

~eva's second summer~

 The biggest problem with being a child of Aphrodite is that your skill set usually boils down to "distraction." Another unfortunate truth is that sometimes "distraction" boils down to "do the hard part and run through the woods so that someone else can get the glory for your actions."

 Unfortunately for Eva, this was one of those times.

 All of Red Team had been hopeful for their own chance to shine when Clarisse announced that she wouldn't be going directly for the flag this time. She claimed it was a solid strategy for her and a couple of her siblings to divert the enemy's attention, so she volunteered to take patrol up along the lake instead of in the woods as usual.

 However, this shuffling of the troops meant that Eva and a couple of the other Aphrodite campers were on a new mission: distract the enemy while the remaining Ares campers rush the Blue Team's flag.

 Things had gone pretty much according to plan there. A few of the Apollo kids had been guarding the flag, and more than half of them had abandoned their post to chase down the Red Team's distraction.

 But although the chase was part of the plan, Eva hoped the boy running after her would just give up already. She wasn't sure how much more of it she could take right now.

 As the forest passed by around her, she glanced over her shoulder— just long enough to see her pursuer's determined smile— then looked back ahead of her, in just enough time to notice the tree root in front of her, but without enough time to avoid tripping on it.

 She landed with her hands in front of her, the wind knocked out of her for a moment.

 "Oh my gosh, I am so sorry," his voice behind her said, "are you okay?"

 Eva pushed herself up a little and turned her head to see the boy who'd been chasing her, now with a concerned look on his face.

 She wanted to make a clever remark and then run past her enemy and make her escape, but as she tried to push herself up further, she realized the pain in her knees and chin, and especially her hands.

 "I'm alright," she huffed, sitting up and looking at her hands, both of them brushburned and dirt stained, and one having a decent sized cut.

 "No you're not," he said, and knelt down in front of her, "you're bleeding in five different places."

 "I'll be fine," Eva said.

 "At least let me take a look at it. Apollo's my father, I…."

 "I know," Eva said, "and you'll take me back to Blue Team's jail as a wounded prisoner."

 A drop of blood fell onto Eva's shirt, and it took her a few seconds to realize where it had come from. She touched a sticky spot on her chin, then looked at her fingers to see a streak of red and brown.

 "Capture the Flag isn't my concern right now," he said, taking off his helmet to reveal a familiar face, with a mop of fair blonde hair that would've looked even lighter if it wasn't so sweaty, paired the warmest brown eyes Eva'd ever seen— the boy who'd given her the cough drops and allergy pills last summer, "let me patch you up, and I'll give you a fifteen second head start."

 "I guess that sounds like a deal," Eva said. She was supposed to be the distraction anyways, and this camper wouldn't be after her teammates if he was occupied with her instead.

 "Good," he said. He'd already taken off his chestplate as well, and he pulled a knife out of a holster at his side.

 "What are you doing?" Eva asked.

 "Emergency bandages," he said, cutting a strip off the bottom of his shirt, "maybe this'll convince Annabeth to let us bring more first aid supplies next time. She says they only slow us down," he cut another chunk of the fabric off his shirt, "but this would go a lot faster if I didn't have to tear apart my wardrobe to do it."

 "You don't have to."

 "Nonsense," he said, pouring some water from his canteen onto one of the cloths, "you wouldn't've tripped if I hadn't been chasing you. May I?"

 She nodded as he took her right hand and dabbed her open palm with the wet cloth. She tried not to wince too much.

 "Sorry," he said, "I wish I had something better to clean this out with."

 "No need to apologize."

 Once her hand was clean, he wrapped a strip of the fabric around it, and tied it tightly.

 "Here," he said, handing her the wet cloth, "wipe up that cut on your chin, then apply pressure to stop the bleeding."

 She followed his instructions as best she could as he cut off another chunk of his shirt and wet it.

 "You know a lot about first aid," Eva said.

 He smiled a little as he took her other hand and dappled off the dirt.

 "I'm not the best of my siblings," he said, "but I do what I can."

 Eva knew all about struggling to be the best, having consigned herself at this point to the fact that she wouldn't even be third best among her siblings for a very long time.

 "I'm Eva," she said.

 "Evangeline Blythe," he nodded, "I know. This is your second summer, right?"

 "That's what it says on my necklace," Eva said, glancing at the single clay bead on the string around her neck.

 He held up his own necklace with two beads on it. "Then I guess this is my third. I'm Kodi Archer."

 "I remember you from last summer," Eva said.

 "You do?" Kodi asked.

 "You gave me something for my allergies," she said.

 "Glad to make an impression," he said, cleaning the spots of dirt off her scratched-but-not-actively-bleeding knees, "that's also not the first time we met."

 "It's not?"

 "I'm just sorry I didn't have any hot pink bandages on me this time."

 "That was you?" Eva asked, recalling the bonfire and the perfectly accessorized band-aid.

 "Yeah," he said.

 Kodi looked back up at her, a smile on his face as their eyes met for half a moment. His eyes then shifted, however, to the cloth she had pressed against her chin.

 "Let's see what I can do for that chin," he said, his hand brushing against hers as he took the cloth from her.

 She hardly noticed the sting of the wet cloth on her cut as he tilted her chin up with his other hand, giving her a better view of his face in the golden lighting of the sun, warming his eyes to an even richer hue. He hadn't been this nice to look at last summer, but he'd apparently grown into his nose, and his height, and some confidence had no-doubt come with it, all of which paid off nicely together.

 Her gaze was drawn away when she heard a sound in the distance: the blaring of a horn, signifying the end of the game. Kodi stopped a moment as well, looking up as though trying to see where it came from.

 "That's a relief," he smiled.

 "Who do you think won?" 

 "Doesn't matter," Kodi said, "I'm just glad I didn't have to explain to Luke and Annabeth why I was stopping to help you and would've given you a head start instead of taking you prisoner."

 "At least you don't have to report to Clarisse," Eva offered.

 "I don't envy you on that one," Kodi said, dabbing away the last of the blood on her chin, "now, keep applying pressure, and stop by Cabin 7 to get it looked at once you get back by the main camp, okay?"

 Eva rolled her eyes.

 "At least grab yourself a couple real bandages?"

 "Do they have hot pink ones?" Eva smiled

 "If you tell them I sent you," Kodi smiled back, resheathing his knife. "Now, do you think you can walk with your knees all scraped up?"

 "I think so," she said, trying to stand up off the ground.

 "Here," Kodi jumped to his feet, then held a hand out to Eva, who gladly took it and let him help stand her up.

 "Thanks for everything." Eva said, taking a couple steps with minimum difficulty.

 "All in a day's work," he said.

 In the distance, they heard quite a ruckus.

 "What's that?" Eva asked.

 "Sounds like some commotion over at canoe lake," Kodi said, "probably nothing important."

~eva's third summer~

 Eva had no idea where the haikus were coming from.

 It started one day at dinner, when she got up to make her offering to Aphrodite, and came back to find a three-by-five index card on her napkin. One one side was her name— Evangeline, not Eva— written with a smudged pink glitter gel pen. The other side had three lines written on it.

 She stayed at the table after most of the other campers had left, when it was a little quieter and easier to focus on the words scribbled on the notecard:

 "if the sun should rise

 and see the way your face shines

 it would be ashamed"

 That was it. The only other thing on the card was a heart, near her name, a classic Valentine's heart with an arrow through it, and a scribbled line near the top corner that looked like something you'd do to get the ink in a pen flowing.

 By now, Eva was used to this kind of stuff. Toward the end of last summer, a couple of the Demeter boys started competing to win her affection, and she found her bunk surrounded each day with fresh flowers (which, of course, led to frequent trips to Cabin 7 for allergy medication and a weekly supply of heart-shaped "cough-pops," as Kodi had branded them.) It wasn't uncommon for the Hermes kids to slip candy bars into her pockets and backpacks for her to find later. One of the Ares kids had dedicated an arm-wrestling victory to her, and one of Mr. D's boys had just about run out of elaborate pickup lines to use on her.

 Being well-acquainted with this kind of stuff by now, Eva slipped the poem into her backpack and went on with her evening.

~💘~

 That night before bed, she pulled the notecard out of her backpack, only to discover a second notecard with it. Her name was written on this one as well, with the same arrow-struck heart next to it, but there were two marks in the corner, and the glittering ink on the other side read:

 "your smile is like the

 dripping of nectar, like a

 lump of ambrosia"

 It was a pity that whoever wrote the poem wasn't there to see her read it, because they would've seen another one of her smiles as she read it.

 She stacked both notes together neatly, and was about to set them on her nightstand, when she realized there was a third notecard already there. The unlined side, once again, bore her name and and the same kind of heart, this time with three marks in the corner, and a haiku that read:

 "your laugh is a song

 that i've always known without

 knowing all the words"

 Eva couldn't help but laugh just a little as she read it, then stacked all three notes on her nightstand and went to bed.

~💘~

 As they tidied up the cabin the next morning, Eva smiled with a newfound confidence. There's always something special about having an admirer, but even more deliciously romantic about a secret admirer, one who writes you poems and tells you the sun doesn't hold a candle to you.

 "Is there an Evangeline in this cabin?"Aurora, one of the first-year campers, asked.

 "Yeah, that would be me." Eva sighed. Her dad had always said he gave her the name because it was a beautiful name, and she was his beautiful daughter, but she'd never been a fan of the impromptu Disney karaoke sessions she'd see whenever she introduced herself by it. "Eva" suited her much better.

 "Someone left you a note," Aurora said, holding up a three-by-five card.

 "Where?" Eva asked, walking over to her.

 "Tacked onto the door," the girl said, "I found it while I was sweeping."

 Before Eva could get to her, one of their older brothers, Mitchell, grabbed the note and read it out loud.

 "'You are a poem, and I am just the reader,'' he read, slowly, his tone slightly mocking, "'I've mem'rized your words.' What a piece of…."

 "None of your business," Eva snapped, taking the note from him and looking it over carefully, noting the lines in the corner and familiar handwriting. A favorite pastime of the Aphrodite kids was making fun of the horrible attempts at poetry the other kids would write for them, but for some reason the mockery of this one seemed out of place.

 "Relax, Eva," Drew said, "tell me, who's this new beau, Evangeline?"

 "I don't know," Eva said, calming down a little in spite of her anger.

 "Someone from Apollo's cabin," another guy said, looking over Eva's shoulder.

 "You don't know that," Eva shrugged. Several Apollo campers came to mind.

 "Well, it is a poorly written haiku," Mitchell said.

 "And there's that arrow through the heart," he said.

 "Who do you think it is?" Aurora asked.

 "I don't know," Eva shrugged, "but it's not the first one, either."

 Now that the whole cabin was invested in this story, she showed her siblings the other three notecards and told them where she found them, as they laughed at the words comparing her to ambrosia and singalongs.

 "Those are some hard-to-get-to places to sneak a poem into undetected," Mitchell said.

 "Could be a Hermes kid, then," Lacy suggested.

 That didn't seem right, but Eva couldn't say why.

 "Could be anyone," Silena said, "but for now, let's finish getting the cleaned up and head to breakfast. Just because those Posiedon boys are gonna lose at cabin clean up again doesn't mean we shouldn't try to win."

 And with that, the campers got back to work.

~💘~

 Within a week, Eva had found five more notes in various pockets of her backpack, one at her seat at almost every meal, one on her nightstand each night and her cabin door in the morning, and three in her shorts' pockets (and how they got there without her noticing, she didn't want to know.) Each of them came with her name and a heart pierced with an arrow, a series of strikes up in the corner (which she soon realized were tally marks, the highest one up to twenty-nine so far, though a few in between were missing,) and a haiku, likening her to arrows, celestial bodies, anything beautiful you could think of (except, strangely enough, flowers,) and an assortment of diseases and ailments. Any time she found one, her nearby brothers and sisters would gather around and giggle and gawk over the attempts at romance.

 Eva, however, treasured every one of these notes in her heart. With each note she found, her secret admirer became even more of a point of interest. At the end of that week, her curiosity got the better of her, and she hatched a plan involving a stakeout out front of her cabin. Whoever was hiding these notes came every night to leave them on the door, and tonight she'd catch the cupid culprit in the act.

~💘~

 It was nearly midnight, and her tiredness had almost caught up with her as she crouched behind a flowering shrub outside the cabin.

 Suddenly, she heard the sound of someone coming, and perked up to watch. This part required the most secrecy. If they heard her, no doubt they'd come up with some alibi that didn't involve haikus and thumb tacks. She'd have to catch them in the act. Quietly as she could, she watched as a figure approached the door, stuck something to it, and started to walk away.

 Quickly, Eva shone her flashlight at the note, just to check that it was indeed another three-by-five with her glittering name on it, then turned the light on the intruder.

 "Going somewhere?" she asked.

 He looked like he was gonna jump out of his skin, but instead turned back around to face her. She recognized him as one of the Stoll brothers from Hermes' cabin, but even in better lighting she wouldn't be able to tell you which one.

 "You've been writing me haikus?" Eva asked.

 "Oh no," he said, his hands over his head in a way that made Eva feel like she was some kind of cop. "I'm just the delivery boy."

 "You're running errands?" Eva asked.

 "Half-Blood's gotta make a living," he said, "and I'm just using the skills dad gave me."

 Hermes was a master of sneakery and delivery, and there was a reason the Stoll brothers were the heads of his children. Every demigod knew that if you want something done sneaky and you want it done right, you turn to the Stoll brothers.

 Every camper also knew that they could both be easily bought.

 "Who put you up to this?" Eva asked.

 "My 'client' paid a high price for my silence," he said.

 "Oh?" Eva asked, "and how high a price would I have to pay for the opposite?" 

 "I'm not a sellout," Stoll said, "even among thieves and pickpockets, there is honor."

 "Such a shame," Eva smiled, smugly, knowing she had a bargaining chip worth much more than money, "because that means I won't have to tell my lovely sisters that you were part of this 'secret admirer' plot."

 "Why should that matter?" he asked.

 "They haven't been able to stop talking about it," Eva said, "someone being so clever and sneaky in the name of love. They always go crazy for guys in touch with their romantic side."

 "Really?"

 "Oh, sure," Eva said, "If they found out you were involved with this, oh, they'd be all over you."

 "They would?" he asked, his voice weak.

 "And of course," Eva said, knowing exactly how to seal the deal, "the best thing about attracting my sisters' attention? Being a child of Aphrodite pretty much guarantees more candy than you'll ever be able to eat, more than enough to share with such a daring romantic soul as your own.."

 "Any peanut m&ms?" he asked.

 Though they were a favorite slip-into-your-pocket candy from the Hermes kids, the Aphrodite kids seldom appreciated them. However, there was no one at camp who loved them more than Connor Stoll, who'd burn a pack of them for his father on the regular, and that gave Eva a pretty good hunch who she was talking to.

 "Too many to eat," she said, "it's a shame, really."

 "What's a shame?"

 "Oh, you know," Eva said, "the fact that you'd rather keep your silence than attract the interests of a dozen beautiful girls with a lifetime supply of chocolate."

 Eva turned, with a smile on her face, knowing she'd made an offer he couldn't refuse.

 "Do you promise you won't tell him I told you?" Stoll asked.

 She turned back to him.

 "The only person who'll know about this conversation is my siblings, who will get to hear about how wonderfully romantic the great Connor Stoll is."

 He smiled, so Eva assumed she had guessed properly as to which brother it was.

 "I don't know," he said, with a wink, "Kodi paid a good price to tell me not to tell you."

 "Kodi?" Eva asked, "Kodi Archer?"

 Aside from her trips to Cabin 7 for allergy pills, cough-pops, and brightly colored band-aids, she hadn't spoken much to Kodi since the Capture the Flag game at the start of last summer. She'd attracted the attention of a lot of guys last year, and even more this year, so a lot of her attention-seekers fell through the cracks. She couldn't keep up with every boy who went out of his way to do something for her.

 "I don't want any trouble between myself and the guy who makes my medicine," Connor winked again, and nodded in confirmation, "but don't tell anyone besides your sisters."

 "You got it," Eva smiled, "now, you should get outta here before the harpies catch you."

 "That's not a concern when you know what you're doing," he laughed. He pulled something out of his pocket and threw it into the distance, and Eva watched something in the sky chase it into a far-off tree.

 "How did you…" Eva asked, but when she looked back at him, he was already gone.

 Since she didn't have any magical harpy-escape-plan, she decided it best to head back to the cabin.

 But she stopped a moment at the cabin door, running her fingers along the index card. Had she been paying attention, she could've figured it out without Connor's help. No one at camp called her "Evangeline," except Kodi. He'd written it in what he clearly knew was her favorite shade of pink. The arrow piercing the hearts doodled on the notes represented Cabin 7, and also the boy whose last name just-so-happened to be Archer. There were metaphors to sunshine and medicine and archery all throughout the poorly written poems, and while any other poet would've likened her to beautiful, fragrant flowers, only Kodi knew of her allergy. Not everyone on campus would trust the word of one of the Stoll brothers, but the facts lined up in this one.

 She sighed, and decided not to bring the notecard back to the cabin with her. It would be better to leave it there for her siblings to gawk over in the morning.

~💘~

 The next morning, Eva regaled the tale of her stakeout to her cabin mates, a captive audience, especially for her version of the story, in which Connor had taken the task of leaving the haikus solely "for the sake of romance" and "keeping the delicate flower of young love alive" and a few other poetic turns of phrase that made him into the kind of guy that at least a few of her siblings would fall for by the end of the story.

 The other big change in this version of the story was that when she recounted it, Connor was not so easily bought, and claimed to "honor the romanticism of mystery," meaning he disappeared into the night before telling Eva who her secret admirer was.

 In Cabin 10, names were thrown around often. Eva could list off the top of her head at least a dozen demigods who'd tried gestures like this to win her siblings' affections. Gossip was more juicy when you had names and faces to go with the story.

 But for some reason, Eva didn't want this to be juicy gossip, though, quite frankly, she couldn't quite put her finger on why. So, she kept Kodi's name out of the discussion, suggesting to her clamoring sisters that maybe the best way to get that information was from Connor, either through sweet-talk, or just sweets in general

~eva's third summer~

 It was Eva's turn to help Silena in the stables. It always fascinated Eva, how comfortably Silena got on with the pegasi, and vice versa, especially because Eva was terrified of them. It wasn't just pegasi; she was afraid of horses too, and though she'd never seen a unicorn, she was sure she wouldn't want to. No matter how much Silena would tell her it was safe, that the pegasi wouldn't hurt her— and even having a satyr and that Percy kid translate the pegasi's whinnies for her multiple times— this was something Eva couldn't shake.

 And yet, that afternoon she found herself in the stables with Silena.

 "I wish I could talk with them," Silena said, brushing a winged palomino.

 "Why?" Eva asked, polishing a saddle as far from the pegasi as she could be.

 "I think they know more than they let on," she smiled, "kind of like you."

 "What?" Eva's nose wrinkled.

 "I heard you talking to Connor outside the cabin last night," Silena said.

 "You what?"

 "I knew you were gonna stay up and get to the bottom of the secret poet mystery," Silena said, "so, I waited up to listen in. Kodi likes you?"

 "Not so loud!" Eva said.

 "The only ones around to hear us are the pegasi," Silena said.

 "And they know a lot more than they let on." Eva rolled her eyes, then looked back down at the saddle in front of her and buffed up a stain.

 If Silena had anything further to say, she didn't say it. Instead, she rubbed her wrist, anxiously, then bit her lip, with a far-off look in her eyes.

 "I'll be right back," she said, before Eva had time to question her or protest at being left alone with the flying death horses.

 "May as well get this over with," Eva muttered. She picked up the horse-brush Silena had been using and decided to try to face her fears head-on.

 Everyone had always told her these kinds of creatures were more afraid of her than she was of them, which seemed stupid because they weighed at least ten times more than her and had a mouth bigger than her entire face.

 But whoever had said it was apparently right, because the pegasus she approached seemed startled by her mere presence, and the last thing Eva remembered before hitting the floor was the pegasi standing in front of her, reared up to a terrifying height on his hind legs.

~💘~

 Eva knew stable floors to be notoriously hard and dirty, and yet when she came to, she felt like she was lying on fresh bedsheets on a mattress. Instead of being surrounded by hay and the smell of a stable, she saw tulle around her, and smelled something delightfully clean.

 "I know this room," she thought, "I'm in the Big House."

 Usually, campers only stayed in the Big House for medical emergencies. As her consciousness regained itself, a pain in her head did too, and she realized why she qualified.

 Trying not to move her head too much, she looked around the room. Out the window was total darkness, like the middle of the night. Flowers were gathered, not near her bed, but on the other side of the room. The only light in the room was a lamp, which sat next to a chair that was next to the bed, and in that chair sat someone Eva knew well: a dimly lit Kodi.

 He didn't look like he'd intended to fall asleep. Instead of a blanket, his lap was covered in notecards, and he hadn't returned the cap on the pink gel pen in his hand.

 She turned over, just a little, and felt something out of place on her pillow: a notecard, her name written in familiar handwriting, with an arrow-pierced heart, and more tally marks than she wanted to count. The other side contained three simple lines.

 "evangeline, please,

 you've got to wake up because

 i kind of love you."

 The rest of the kids in Cabin 10 would've laughed their heads off at the words "kind of," but she was focused on the word after them: love. It was one thing to say you like someone, or have a crush on someone, or you think someone's cute. But to say you love someone, even just "kind of?" In the last three summers at Camp Half-Blood, and all those years of grade-school Valentine's and getting hounded for her phone number, not one of those guys had ever said they love her. And now, Kodi had.

 But Kodi hadn't just said that he loved her, he'd shown it. Maybe the hot pink bandages weren't a coincidence. Maybe the heart-shaped cough pops were made with her in mind. Maybe there was a reason he'd helped his Capture the Flag enemy. Maybe he hadn't left her side since he heard about her pegasus incident, and wanted her to see a friendly face when she came to.

 Even if none of that was true, there was no denying he'd gone out of his way to pour his heart out for her. Given the lengths he went to to get his poems to her and the price he paid for Connor's silence, it was clear that he wasn't doing this to get something in return. He just wanted her to know that she was special, and she was loved. That was all he'd been telling her from the beginning, wasn't it?

~kodi's fourth summer~

 From the first time he met Evangeline Blythe, Kodi had known one thing: she was special, and she deserved to be loved like it.

 Of course, his friends and siblings tried to dissuade him. Demigods and mortals alike throughout history had grown a sudden belief in "love at first sight" after meeting Aphrodite kids, and it never worked out as planned.

 Kodi, however, was great at working out plans. He saw the way she accessorized each day, and sent for some colored bandages to meet that need. Every time he saw her felt like Valentine's Day, so when her coughing fits started, it'd only made sense to make heart shaped "cough-pops" to capture that essence. And when he realized that helping her with her injuries in capture the flag wasn't enough to compete with all the other boys who sought her attention, he started his most ambitious project yet, which took a long while (and several pink gel pens) to execute, but the payoff was well worth it.

 He was a worried mess when Silena called him to the stables, and even more of a wreck when he saw Evangaline's lifeless form, and the blood dripping from her forehead. He was thankful he always kept a bit of ambrosia on hand. Had his shirt been able to voice an opinion it would've been ungrateful, though, that Kodi had thought ahead to keep hot pink bandages and a knife on hand, but didn't keep any cloths on hand. A chunk of his shirt was cut off without a second thought as he wiped the blood off her forehead and prayed a million prayers to his father.

 He'd gotten her to a more stable condition— no pun intended— though still unconscious, and brought her back to the Big House as safely as he could on the back of a pegasus.

 Kodi had insisted on staying by her bedside until she woke up, and Chiron said that would be fine, as long as they weren't alone together. Silena volunteered to stay with them, feeling excessive guilt over not being in the stable to stop the problem before it happened.

 Around midnight, after an unexpected heart-to-heart with Silena about his feelings for Evangeline, he'd told her to get some sleep, and that he'd wake her up when Evangeline did.

 In the meantime, Kodi had plenty of time to write some more haikus, and had just slipped the best of them on her pillow when his exhaustion from the day's events finally kicked in.

~💘~

 Kodi woke with a start when he felt something touching him, and looked down to see a hand on top of his. The hand was slender, nails well-manicured in a shade of pink that perfectly complemented the bracelets around the wrist.

 His eyes followed the arm to Evangeline's face, her eyes open and her lips smiling at him as she lay on the bed next to his seat.

 "Good morning, sleepyhead," she whispered, despite the fact that the sun hadn't even risen yet.

 "You're awake," he whispered back in surprise, "and you're… holding my hand?"

 He wasn't sure how this had happened, but he tried to move his hand away from hers, just in case, but instead her hand chased after his, and caught it.

 "I am," she smiled.

 "Why?" he asked, and when she looked disappointed, he followed up, "not that I'm upset, just a little confused. Did I miss something? Maybe you're delirious? I should wake Silena, or maybe get Will…."

 "Not yet," Evangeline said, "I'm thinking clearly. I'm actually thinking a lot more clearly about a lot of things than I have been in a long time."

 "What kind of things?"

 "I never asked to be Aphrodite's kid," she said, "we don't get to come up with strategies or fight epic battles or tend to the wounded with great expertise," and she smiled and squeezed his hand, "but we do have it lucky."

 "How?" Kodi asked.

 "When your mom is the goddess of love," she smiled, that pure smile that somehow had a way of healing his soul every time he saw it, "the most confusing thing anyone can ever go through suddenly makes a lot more sense."

 "What's that?"

 "This," Evangeline said, holding up the note he'd left on her pillow, "'I kind of love you' too," she said.

 "You do?" He asked, and he hoped she liked his smiles as much as he liked hers, because there was no stopping the one that now spread across his face. All that planning and working at getting her attention had actually worked.

 Instead of responding, she squeezed his hand three times, and he'd listened to the modern poets enough to know it meant "I love you."

 He responded the same way, but after the third squeeze, he brought her hand to his lips and kissed it, the world stopping a moment as he looked up and saw the blush creeping along her cheeks, that perfect shade of pink she'd taught him to see everywhere.

 "You said you needed to wake Silena?" Evangeline asked.

 "Yeah," he said.

 "Can it wait ten seconds?"

 "Why ten seconds?" Kodi asked.

 "Because," Evangeline said, leaning closer toward him off the edge of the bed, "that gives me just enough time to do this."

  Then, she kissed him, and if it had lasted ten seconds or ten hours, he wouldn't've known the difference, and he wouldn't've cared. It still would've been overwhelming. He still would've thought it ended too soon. It still would've taken him a few hazy minutes to recover. Even after passing out in a stable and spending a day in a hospital room, her lips still tasted like chocolate and strawberries, and they pressed against his as gently as a feather, pulling away just as softly.

 "Wow," he whispered, between deep breaths, "I think I kind of love you more than I thought I did."

 She giggled a little, and said "me too," and it was the capstone of the greatest moment of his entire life.

 The sun was just beginning to rise out the infirmary window, and as perfect as it would be to say they held hands and watched the sunrise together while Apollo painted the skies in glorious hues, no one could honestly say that's what happened that morning— because Kodi was much more interested in watching Evangeline than in anything the sunrise had to offer.

[opposingsigns]

Klaus- The Baldurian Bard

When I first started drawing my play through, I was wracking my brain trying to think of something a bit more witty for their quest title- but the tag is just too catchy 😂

I had fun writing them a quick Origin dialogue as if they were a companion to travel with (see below the cut), and wanted to give them their own iconic design. I know the base bard build calls back to Volo’s design as a scholar and a bit as a jester (what a mood, I love that), and I wanted to keep that idea in mind. With all the small glittering embellishments, I wanted them look as though you had caught a performer behind the scenes just before they had finished getting ready. Are they about to entertain you with a clever act or they the ring master directing it from the sides with a knowing smile?

Klaus is non-binary and uses they/them pronouns. I should draw it from the back later, but I wanted the vest to function not only like a men’s corset but also a binder! I think we should be having more fun with fantasy binders.

Origin Selection Monologue:

Hello there Adventurer- care to hear a tale before you write your own?

I’ve spent my life in Baldur’s Gate, and I can say with certainty I’ve seen it all: from the smallest taverns on the outer city banks to the grandest court halls in the Upper City. The gift of song has its perks, and I’m well known to my audience as someone who trills the sweetest of tunes.

Or rather, I used to be.

Everyone loves a good storyteller. A pint or three of ale, and I’ve found many people think themselves one. I provided a listening ear to the songs and secrets of The Gate’s People- but secrets can come at a high cost. Some would pay a fortune to grasp the neck of the person that holds them.

I adopted a new name, a new identity, and flew from Baldur’s Gate to leave my past behind. I planned never to return. What a fool I am to forget the oldest story of them all.

You may call me Klaus, shall we tell the tale of ‘The Grand Journey Home’?

Bonus thoughts:

Me, drawing the background: oh actually I’ll leave the bird out, it’s a nice nod to their lore 🤭 (<<< is the only man who would get the reference and knows the lore)

Also I have a new brush pen for line art and I’m in love with it.

[obamasleftkidney]

Okay so hmm..I'm thinking cause of the title, there was a wife who got murdered. Maybe too literal of an analysis but who knows..anyway, the detective, he somehow can see this wife. The wife helps this detective find her murderer which by a long shot I'm thinking it's her husband. Hence the clue about the husband and the wife's infidelity? Also, I think that the husband actually 'found' his wife dead and called it in, which explains clue 8. Banger line btw!

The wife's murder could've been posed as a suicide so the husband could play victim and all 'oh my god, idk what happened, we loved each other and I think she felt too much guilt.' Quite honestly, maybe the husband was hurting the wife? So that's why she had an affair? Is the husband's name Beau?

Super excited for your book. Haven't seen such an interesting premise in awhile <33!

An amazing guess by @swansfilecabinet This particular guess was very entertaining to read, considering many of the guesses were right however the small facts were jumbled up, causing the whole guess to fall apart. A perfect house collapsing because a few bricks from the base were wrongly placed.

There was a fundamental mistake in the guess, regarding a central character. But points of a wife dying, and her husband finding her (though not entirely true i suppose you'll find out when the novel is released), her husband saying the above mentioned, and the wife harboring guilt are correct, though the characters are very jumbled up in the guess. I'll leave it to you to figure out which characters were related wrongly. Nonetheless a GLITTER PEN worthy guess.

Thank you so much for the appreciation for my lines you guys mean the world to me! Can't wait to hear back about my novel, and feel free to drop any guesses that pops in your mind even if they don't quite make sense i love reading them and who knows they might correct.

While i would love to read more guesses, i fear this is where we end the contest. The next novel is already in the works, so expect soon the next contest and stay followed for season 2 of the novel games!

If this is your first time seeing my post; I'm writing a novel which will be released soon. I refuse to tell you the plot, the characters, the tropes, nor the premise. I only ask for your follow + I write my followers names down in a little pretty notebook. I will drop little clues and quotes and paragraphs. Ominous little hints. And the first follower to guess the plot receives a free signed copy of the novel once it's published. (Merch included according to the guessed plot's accuracy) The contest has closed for this as the last guess though the next novel is in the works and the next contest will happen within the next few months!

Do follow me and find out, for if this ended up on your page, this novel has everything you like. I might disappoint, but how do you know for sure I will?

If you're interested, follow me, and go read my posts. Clues have already been dropped. Best of Luck!

[shackleton2]

thank you for the tag @painted-doe!!! I love these i feel hella imposterish sharing WIPs but the folder is honestly getting bulky soooo

my keywords were ignore, kind, lose, silver

ignore

He let himself get lost in the glittering smear of the Milky Way, not tracking time, before he felt ready to bring some attention to the places he felt his body touching the ground, the jungle sounds around him. He reminded himself of where and when he was, and went over the recent series of events that had brought him there. He was here. He knew the date. All of this was real.

He pinched the bridge of his nose. The nightmare was bad enough, but it brought with it a lasting sense of frantic anxiety that he didn’t know how to soothe or surmount or ignore.

“Steve is fine,” he muttered to himself, barely aloud. “Steve is fine.”

He shuffled back into the hut and stared at the beads hanging by the door. They would be silent until the next reminder about traveling off the hillside to meet Shuri for a scan came in a few days.

kind

It was on its side. Thick grey was encroaching rapidly from the borders of its vision. There was only a small window of light left to it, and it found itself wishing, nonsensically, for the Captain’s face to be there, blue eyes radiating certainty in everything, even in defeat. That would be a comfort.

Instead there were bright searing beams of light and crashing impacts hard enough to shake the reinforced floor of the cell. With a massive effort the Soldier blinked and cleared a shade of grey from its eyes.

The Captain and the man in red and gold armor were exchanging violent blows. They flickered across the Soldier’s vision like snapshots. The Captain was strong and fast and desperate. The armored man seemed to anticipate every move, and fired some kind of energy beam from hand and chest.

The Captain had the armored man pinned, the shield at his neck, but the glowing circle in his chest was pulsing, preparing; the Soldier heard through the sealed glass walls: “Give it up, Rogers. I won’t tell you again.”

Something went off in the Asset’s head like a grenade seconds before the flash of the suit’s power outside the cell.

silver

She headed in the direction of the sheep-pen, where the worrying sound had come from a few minutes ago. She had been comfortably settled in an armchair, barely in earshot, but she was sure she’d heard it— faint and strange-sounding, not a cry she’d ever heard before. The animals and her were well-tuned to each other, and her instincts told her: it was the sheep, and they were terrified.

She glanced back as she hurried down the path. Her little cottage stood starkly etched in darkness and faint silver moonlight. The bright butter yellow of the lamplit window was like a lighthouse, a beacon against all that was dark and cold, Outer and Other in the night. With the next bend in the path it was out of her sight.

lose

He wouldn’t mind, honestly. There was a deep ache in his chest when he thought of that little guy with the steely gaze. Whatever was left of James Barnes in him missed Steve Rogers, he supposed. It felt old, the ache, like he had been missing Steve for a long, long time.

“Is Steve your friend?” The question came out quiet and kind. “Because I know how it can be sometimes, but if you can get in touch with him, you probably should. It’s tough out here without friends. You lose ‘em fast.”

“Can’t,” said the Soldier. “I can’t come in, Steve. I gotta…protect you, s’the only good thing I’ve ever been good at. And this is the only way I can.”

“I’m not Steve.” Kindly again, too understanding to be pity.

I think a lot of people have already been tagged but if you're reading this and you wanna do it please do!!! this is such a fun way to peek into each others' notebooks i'm so excited for yalls work :D

keywords are cloth, leap, strain, knife